#seriously though sometimes words I have written myself look so foreign to me

[incandescentflower]

sometimes I look at words I have written and think "wait, does that mean what I think that means? am I just making shit up? why did I think this word meant something else??"

[i-growl-growl-growl]

Yandere NCT Reaction: Their s/o is secretly more yandere than them

If request are open yandere nct reactions to be being a yandere for them as well? Thank you!

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Yandere Nct reaction. Your written for these reactions are really great! I appreciate the effort and thought that goes into them! Could you do a yandere Nct reaction to finding out their s/o was tricking them and was actually more of a yandere than them? Like the s/o was pretending to be shy and innocent just to lure them in.

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I’m going to put these two requests together since they were so similar. Hope that is okay.

Warnings: Yandere themes, dark themes, suggestive themes, violent themes, 

Taeyong:

 Taeyong would be stunned when he wakes up to fell the weight of the shock anklet on. The feeling something so foreign for him to be on the receiving end of. In one way he loves it, because if you’re possessive of him it quells some of his fears that you’d go to another man...he could certainly keep you busy after all. That being said though I feel like he’d take it as a challenge. Yandere Taeyong lives for control over you after all, so be prepared to fight for control and constant challening.

“Oh? What is this kitten? You think you’re in charge now. Possessive or not you know better baby. Unless I need to remind you of that.

Taeil:

Taeil wouldn’t mind you being yandere, not even more than him. He might even try to get your yandere side to make appearances, loving when you got possessive over him. Oh and if you were to get violent … for him, he’d look at you as if you were an angel, ironically. That being said while it might subdue his yandere tendencies to an extent they would still be there.

“Just because I’m not allowed out with you doesn’t mean any men can just talk to you however they see fit. I’ll sneak out and take care of that problem myself if I have to.”

Johnny:

Johnny like Taeyong will challenge you, but in this case it’s for the purpose of entertainment. He likes seeing how far you’ll go it amuses him. 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to flirt with others?” Your heated words only make Johnny smirk, sipping his drink as he locks eyes with you. The fire in yours not scaring his gaze away even for a moment.

“As many times as it takes for you to learn the same. Or for you to learn what I’ve been telling you that we’re dangerous people Y/N. Dangerous alone...but even more so together. If we stop playing these games.”

 Yuta:

 Yuta would not always have the patience for it, if he feels like your yandere behavior interferes with his desire to protect you and keep you close he’d get frustrated very quickly. Especially if he was trapped at home while you were out somewhere. You’d come back to find him so far beyond pissed.

“Fine. You wanna be like this? Then we’re gonna have to set some rules. Or you’re not going to like what happens.”

Kun:

 Kun thinks that if you’re both like this then you should do something to satisfy what you both want. Buy a secluded home somewhere, mostly  self sustaining with only the best security. If you’re still in need of money all work will be done from home. Any trips either of you make out would be very very rare and always accompanied by the other.

“Don’t deny that it sounds good to you baby. No one will be able to take me from you, or you from me.”

Doyoung:

 Doyoung loves it and everything your yandere side does to him. Makes him feel oddly safe and satisfied knowing you’re as wholly dedicated to him as he is to you. Still his yandere is there, he’s just very subtle about it, acting like he can keep secrets from you. Good at sneaking out to do things to people he doesn’t like you around without leaving any evidence and being back when you get back.

“What? No. That’s just a coincidence sweetheart. A nice coincidence. See look. I was here making this lovely dinner just for you.”

Ten:

 Ten would find it really sexy, but he’d also take it as a challenge and gets irritated at times. Thinks you should work together instead of trying to hold each other back to try and protect or hide the other away. Might actually show you off to some people in that case, even though he still is very possessive. 

“Sweetheart, don’t try to hide me away. Not when we could bring this whole world to it’s knees. You could show them how a true king/queen rules.”

Jaehyun:

 I think he’d be very thrown off at first. Like I don’t think he’d be convinced that you were serious about it. He’d be worried it’s a trap to get him to trust you only to leave. So he’d stay very VERY close to you and try to trap you with questions to see how serious you were.

“So I was thinking, what if we went out to a house in the middle of nowhere. Just us, no phone, no internet, nowhere to escape to. Would you really like that too?”

WinWin:

 Sicheng would be confused too wondering where this side of you had come from and where the innocent, shy person he needed to protect from the world went. He might get somewhat distant until he figures out what happened and then he’d be back again. I think he’d likely let you take the reigns a lot, maybe not entirely as he still wants to protect you and keep you to yourself.

“Sure we can do what you want, but here’s what you have to do to stay safe. That or you can forget about me going along with this.”

Jungwoo:

Jungwoo wouldn’t know who you were or what to do with you. He might be hard to keep a hold of as he might somewhat feel betrayed by your acting like a different person. He would still love you in a way, but he also would feel like he doesn’t know who you are. Very conflicted.

“You aren’t my Y/N...I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

 Lucas:

 Lucas might test you some to see if you’d really follow through on your claims or not, wondering if this was a trick. He’d make it very clear he still will let his yandere side out no matter what you wanted, even if you wanted to try and keep him locked away. Not to challenge you, but because he wants what he wants. Doesn’t care what your punishment for him is as long as he got to follow through.

“No that man touched you, so I’m going to do something about it no matter what you say. You can’t stop me.”

Mark:

 Mark would try to make you equals in this situation, appease both of your yandere sides. His might flare up from time to time, but he understands so will that side of you. Still he knows that neither of you can erase that side of yourself either.

“This is who we both are baby and we both love it. So let’s embrace it.”

Xiaojun:

Xiaojun might cry at first, but it would be tears of relief. He thought you’d been hiding some part of yourself from him and this was the best thing it could have been in his opinion. He wouldn’t have to worry about you ever leaving.

“Just show me all of you baby, you don’t scare me away. I love you too much for that ever to happen. I’m all yours just as you are all mine.”

Hendery:

Hendery would be testy and actually laugh when your yandere side kicks in stricter whether it be punishments or just restrictions for him. The stricter you got the stricter he would, not to irritate you or mock you, but to almost size you up. See where each of your boundaries were.

“Oh? That’s the worst you can do? Well what about this love?”

Renjun:

 Renjun would be pretty out of his element I think. He’d probably back down quite a bit at first purely out of confusion just letting you do your thing as he tried to figure out what was going on. After that he’d stay pretty docile feeling secure knowing you’re so yandere for him alone, but sometimes his yandere side would show up still.

“Sure you can wear that, if I’m there to make sure no one get the wrong idea. If you want me at home though then you’re gonna have to find something else to wear.”

Jeno:

 I think Jeno would be irritated at first, thinking that you’re mocking him or trying to push the limits. Soon as he knows that this is you being possessive over him though he feels pride swell in his chest every time your yandere appears, especially without prompting from him.

“Yes she did get the wrong idea baby, what are you going to do to show her who I belong to?”

Haechan:

Haechan would keep a very close eye on you and try to  reason with you instead of letting your yandere sides get too volatile. Not wanting them to both come out and take things to far, not wanting anything to happen that would risk you two being separated somehow.

“Well we could always stick together, that way we can keep our eyes and hands on each other. You know, for reassurance.”

Jaemin:

 I think Jaemin would be super happy at first, let you kind of take over while he backed down. That would only be at first though. Soon he’d realize that while you wanted him home away from the world that might try to steal him away you were still out there in it. What if it tried to steal you from him? He’d get antsy and then his yandere side would likely come out stronger than before.

“I already told you. You aren’t going out and if you try there will be consequences. I’m not just going to sit around anymore.”

YangYang:

 I think YangYang might try to break your yandere side at first. He wouldn’t be sure it was legit, so he’d try to prove that. His yandere side would come out stronger and if yours told him to do something or threatened punishment he’d push his luck deliberately doing the opposite of what you said to do. After proving it was seriously you though he’d use that to his advantage.

“Yes, I need to talk business with a woman. She’s rather flirtatious too and not afraid of me. Think you can help out with that love?”

Chenle:

 Chenle would love it and might back off to an extent. He won’t just sit around at home behaving for you though. He’s pretty stuck to you like glue. You might take the lead, but that doesn’t mean he’ll back down about certain things. He’s intent on keeping you safe and with him.

“Allow me angel. You shouldn’t have to be the one getting your hands dirty.”

Jisung:

I think Jisung would cry too, he’d be so happy. All he ever wanted was for you to love him back and now you’re proving to him that you do. Not only do you love him back, but you have the same type of love for him as he has for you. Much easier to talk down his yandere now, he kinda turns a little mushy. A bit like a lovesick puppy.

“Of course baby, anything that’ll make you happy. Just so long as you’re safe with me and love me.”

-Bre

[bubblyani]

Bail Out : 09

(Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A Bruce Wayne Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 09: Loyalty 

Summary: One fateful, drunken night gets you arrested for assault.  However, once you get bailed out by Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne,  surprising obstacles get in the way, forcing you to question all your  choices in life, career, and in love.

Word Count: 7300+

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Violence

Author’s Note: Heeyyyy!! Sorry for the 3 week absence. Needed to get some personal stuff on track and finally writing once again. Perhaps I am also sad to end this series also. But, I am determined to end this perfectly. One more chapter to go so it’s not the end yet. Enjoy lovelies!

CHAPTER LIST

(10 am)

Concern came over John Blake, thus translating into physical pain when his fingernails dug into his palms. All the while the young woman sitting before held his attention for a few seconds that seemed like pure torture.

Her graceful, manicured fingers danced across the computer keyboard, pressing in a rhythmic manner as she searched for specific piece of information. Looking up finally, she displayed a choreographed smile: “I’m sorry, but there’s no record of an appointment with…Officer Blake” She said. Bowing his head down, John chuckled with disbelief: “No...” He replied, shaking his hand before putting it on her table, “There has to be a mistake...” His voice rife with seriousness, “You see, I called you…you’re Simone right?” “Yes?” “Yeah, I called you yesterday and I was told…10 am” John stressed on it, eventually growing irritated. Finally, with approval granted by Commissioner Gordon himself, Officer John Blake finally was in the clear to approach Erik Henderson for further questioning. There was a game to be a played, and he played it well. He followed the rules, he made the appointment with his secretary, all in the hopes that today will not proved to be a hassle.

At least, that was his intention. Until now.

“So sorry, Officer…” the cold smile continued to linger in young woman’s face,“...but no appointment. But…” she paused, grabbing John’s attention, “…if you can wait a bit I can fit you in on a free time slot, how about that?”

Though her smile grew wider, it was evident her intentions were far from sincere. With a huge sigh, John smiled back tightly.

“That would be great, thanks”  He said politely, for the game was still on, and he had to keep playing. Joining Officer Nina Langdon, they made their way to the hallway together.

Henderson Incorporated Building proved to be lavish. And it certainly exuded a different energy from Wayne Enterprises. The decor had over-compensating written all over it, as if gold had a massive explosion, while the scent of strong lavender invaded their nostrils without permission. Nina sighed:

“Bet we’re gonna get ditched, I’m 100% sure” she muttered, with her arms folded. “Yeah...” John agreed, as they collectively gazed upon the secretary from a distance, “…especially now that it’s pretty obvious Henderson doesn’t wanna see us” He said. Turning back to the redhead, he sighed, “You didn’t have to come with me, you know”

“You kidding me?” Nina asked, shaking her head slowly, “I assigned myself to this case…” she stated, “…like it or not, I’m with you all the way”

John’s lips curved upward, for the subtle affection she delivered was not to be ignored, “Okay…” he accepted. For truthfully, he was always relieved to have her around.

“Although I’m definitely not happy with the waiting part” Nina pointed out casually. “Wait��What?” Laughing, Nina put her hand on his shoulder, “I’m kidding…” she added, “Cause…” suddenly her laughter disappeared, leaving nothing but a serious facade, “We’re NOT leaving until we talk to Henderson”.

Surprised, yet convinced, John nodded before dialing a number on his phone.

“Ma’am?” He began, with the phone pressed against his ear, “It’s Blake…”

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A call from John Blake was not expected by you that morning. Truthfully, you didn’t expect any call from anyone for you had no intention to answer any. But given the situation you did answer his. Sitting by the edge of the neatly made bed, you listened to Blake on speakerphone whilst dressed in nothing but the white towel.

“But…couldn’t you just go back another day?” You inquired with concern.

“We could…” the policeman replied, “But I won’t be surprised if they suddenly find it inconvenient to see us then” “Fair point…” you agreed with a nod. Looking up, you involuntarily smiled by the sight of Bruce walking towards you in a bathrobe,  “I really appreciate the help, Officer” You added. “Well, this definitely is a case unlike anything I’ve ever seen…” he said, “So we’ll keep you posted”

The moment you hung up, the mere device that was the mobile phone suddenly seemed insignificant as you stood up to face your lover. It was not long before you and Bruce Wayne possibly had the time of your lives making love without any sense of restriction nor interruptions, while the morning was the sole witness. It was not long before this neatly made bed had been full of crumpled sheets, and one destined wet towel. For others, it may have appeared to be a complete state of mess. However, for you it was a sweet reminder of total satisfaction, for that mess was a memory worth treasuring for eternity.

A gentle breath exited your lips the moment he pulled the towel off your nude frame. Gingerly placing a bathrobe around your shoulders, Bruce dressed you up with care. He even took his time proceeding to the smallest detail by tying up the robe tightly, all the while he maintained an unbreakable gaze at your direction. You felt attended, you felt cared for. Truthfully it had been sometime since you had this felt from a man. And it simply proved more than satisfactory.

“Thank you…” You murmured, closing one’s eyes in pleasure when he placed a loving kiss on your forehead. With a gentle tug on the sleeve, he guided you towards the chairs that faced the large windows. The moment your eyes graced over the outside world, you could not help but chuckle all the sudden.

“What?” Bruce inquired, and his confusion was valid. “Just…” You shrugged as you took a seat across from him,  “...never knew I had to literally worry about someone trying to have me killed” you added, feigning laughter. It was no laughing matter. For this was not an average matter of concern. It was much bigger. Given the manner your fingers nervously held the others, it was simply clear as day how you worried for your life.   “Well, I’m here…” Bruce’s gentle voice anchored you back to the light. For all the sudden, you remembered who exactly you sat across from. The guardian, the knight. Your knight. “I know….” You replied, smiling softly, “And I’m glad” you said, taking in a deep refreshing breath in what you were blessed with before you.

As much as the Dark Knight was glorious in black, Bruce appeared  ethereal in white. He always did, ever since you laid eyes on him. For you, he was the poster boy for crisp white shirts, pulling them off well it seemed criminal. And even this bathrobe he donned, came to a close second. The manner his hair gently had fallen over his face, the manner his side profile was proudly flaunted by mother nature, you could be nothing but grateful to witness them. You indulged then sight as he turned his head, gazing across the Gotham skyline with interest. Rays of sunshine illuminated the high rise buildings and other structures nearby, and the sight clearly had brought a huge smile to his face.

“Wow…” He finally breathed, “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He said softly, his eyes still on the skyline.Your own eyes widened with disbelief.

“Please don’t tell me this is your first time realizing that!” You exclaimed, raising your eyebrows. “It is…”   “What?” Leaning forward, your jaw dropped involuntarily,“But...” you scoffed, “...how is that possible?” “Guess I’m not blind anymore...” Bruce replied, except his eyes were not glued to the skyline any longer. Where they were glued, you need not proof, especially when your cheeks began to flare up. His gaze, that gaze, it was what you always longed for. All these years. A gaze full of content. A gaze full of genuine affection. So wholesome it seemed unfathomable. “Why me?” Those words escaped you before you could take control. Bruce raised his eyebrows. “I don’t follow...” “I mean…” you paused, shyly bringing your legs up to sit cross legged, “I was too busy falling for you...that I didn’t even bother to ask you…” you chuckled, “…out of all the people, why pick me?” Truthfully, this was riffed with genuine curiosity. Thus, you did not blame yourself. Surprised by your inquiry, Bruce did not rush to answer. However, that in turn made your pulse race: “Cause, granted Bruce…” you interrupted, “.. I’m not this beautiful foreign ballerina, model or even an actress-” “You are very beautiful…” he protested gently. “Oh! I know I am…” You were surprised by your own  confidence, “It’s  just that…” taking a deep breath, you continued, “Wow! I actually can’t believe you think so…” you found yourself say, suddenly lost in the hazel orbs, “What? that’s not the real question…” you said, scoffing whilst shaking this spell away.

“You seem distracted” Bruce purred, his gaze affixed on you.

“All thanks to you…” you chuckled, blushes making an appearance once again. Inhaling deeply, you looked at him with genuine earnest: “Why...did you risk everything just to come bail me out that morning?”

You inquired, sitting up straight, “You’re Bruce Wayne...you’re someone who could definitely hold up your own…” you added, pointing at him with a sense of grandiose, “…and what I did was colossally embarrassing, not just to you but for the whole company...so…why?” “Loyalty…” Bruce’s reply, it made you blink. “Sorry?” He smiled, “Your loyalty…it…struck me…” he said, “And honestly...” he added, “... bailing you out was simply my way of thanking you…” “And I will always be grateful for that…But why-” “-did I fall for you?” He finished the sentence for you, but in a different way. One that made your heart skip. “I was gonna say...care for me but, I’ll take that instead” you said, smiling shyly. He chuckled: “I wish I could give you a clear answer on that…but I can’t…” he replied, in all honesty, “I mean, can you?” That was when you came to the simple realization. Not everything was a checklist, some phenomena in life are simply many a reasons infused into one entity. “No…” you breathed, “I guess I can’t…” you chuckled, “I mean, it’s not like it’s a Math Test where everything is technical, right?” You said, to which he nodded in sheer agreement. “The moment we started to talk...” Bruce began, “It just felt…so familiar…” he said, in a dire attempt to grasp the words, “…It felt like we were two-” “-friends?” This time, it was you who finished it for him. And he agreed here as well.

“Exactly…” he said,  “And then I just…I just couldn’t stop…”   “I get it…” you said, “I get it a lot” you agreed with a chuckle. It was no difficult task to do so, for your heart was brave witness to all the suffering undergone within you, the suppression of emotions brought up by him, “And, I know what I’m gonna say is very, very cheesy-” “Cheesier than the dinner last night?”

You could not help but guffaw, “No…” as he laughed alongside you, “Oh! come on! I trying to be serious here…” “Sorry…” Exhaling deeply, the laughter died down. Composing yourself from the humor, you were a surprise to your own self as you rose up from the chair.

“As I was saying…” you began, walking towards him while running your fingers through your hair, “…clearly there were the obvious signs of…wealth…and luxury surrounding you…” stating the obvious, you had an air of professionalism that seemed to amuse him, “…but from the moment I spoke to you in the car…” you said, certainly full of surprises as you sat across his lap, “I realized that…I really just wanted to spend time with…you”. A deep breath was indeed necessary, drinking in the man that was Bruce, “I really wanted to win the heart of Bruce...not the billionaire. Just…Bruce-”

His blessed name exited your lips in the best possible manner, especially when his own greedy lips captured you in a kiss. A kiss that traveled deeper to the trenches unknown in your soul. Your hands found haven in his hair, fingers tangled in his luscious locks, allowing your affections to transmit to him through the mere follicles of his existence. Bringing you closer to him, his hand rested gently on your back, stroking with a sense of care and even more. His lips, they seemed essential to you day by day, kiss after kiss. And that realization seeped in to you the moment he pulled away.

“Don’t go today...” His words, they brimmed of a plea. Yet, in truth, you did not seem to require much convincing. “I won’t…” you said softly, against his lips, “Cause… luckily for you…” your face lit up with cheer, “…. this employee rarely takes leave…”

Chuckles filled the room between the two. This, this simple form of comfort, happiness, it was all you ever longed for in life. And when it kissed you and held you tenderly, you found it quite difficult to believe.

“But seriously, I honestly think we both deserve a good break” you added with conviction, “Maybe we can watch something nice. Maybe I can cook for you, feed you, …” your affectionate tone had him throw you a hopeful gaze, “….Maybe watch you do pushups , and act like a lovestruck teenager” you chuckled by the mere thought of it.

“Anything you want…” Bruce certainly did not seem to mind, holding on to you with a sense of high value.

And in truth, those plans were simply perfect.

Even in the comfort of home, it certainly was a vacation. Just you and him together, the world was suddenly your oyster. Excitement bubbled within you both, when it finally was possible to experience the life of a normal couple. And you certainly was surprised when Bruce found it equally enthusiastic. Be it cooking, and cleaning which seemed to have some familiarity already. Be it an unexpected nap, curled up in each other’s arms, occasionally indulging kisses by the sofa whilst engaging with the television. Or be it gazing into each other’s eyes whilst slow dancing together in your sweats and t-shirts. Dusk was welcoming, bringing in nothing but softness while soothing music played in the background. Seeing him this content, you only wished Alfred had returned to witness.

“Do you like this?” You inquired gently, brushing one’s nose against his. And against the changing colors of dusk, you saw him nod. “So much so, I wish I could show you off to the whole world” he breathed.

That heart stirring phrase, surprisingly left you with a needful reminder. With your pulse growing fast, you were overcome with an urge.

“Bruce…” you began, “There’s something I want to tell you…”  you said, which suddenly captured his attention. You took a deep breath “I-”

“Master Wayne!”

Alfred Pennyworth’s booming voice never failed to gain attention. Both of you released each other from seeing the older man walk fast. Bruce grinned at him.

“Missed us already, Alfred?” He inquired. However, pleasure or amusement was the least of his concerns. In fact, his face was filled with concern.

“It’s about Arkham, Sir”

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“A security breakdown? at Arkham Asylum?”

Shooting up from his seat, Blake cried out into his phone, “But… how is that even possible?”. Shocked from what she just heard, Nina could do nothing but watch him.

“Yeah, man. That’s what they told us” Officer Dave Ramirez replied from the other side, “We’re on our way to hold down the place. It’s all good, John, don’t worry. I’ll look into it…”

“Thanks, Dave”

Hanging up, John sighed heavily, sitting next to Nina, “Something doesn’t feel right…” he said. He was not mistaken. For must that happen now? Out of all the times? Or had he just become the victim of a delusional nightmare?

It would seem fair, considering the fact waiting was all John and Nina had to do from morning, the one giant hurdle to overcome in order to reach their goal. At times, it seemed like a punishment, yet they kept waiting. Hours passed, and still they waited. They may had to go run down to satisfy their need for sustenance with some sandwiches, but they did not hesitate to return with more motivation and wait once again. Only upon looking through the glass windows were they informed of the arrival of dusk. And now with the news of Arkham, everything seemed out of reach and uncontrollable.

The young secretary suddenly stood up from her desk with a huge smile on her face. “Mr.Henderson is waiting for you…”

She said brightly. John and Nina looked each other, wondering if it finally was their chance as they got up. But to their disappointment, it seemed she was addressing the 4 men in suits carrying suitcases that just arrived behind them. Given their appearances and features, Blake quickly identified them to be the Henderson Legal Team. Shooting cold glances, the men swiftly entered Henderson’s office one by one. And this time, Nina Langdon scoffed out loud:

“Unbelievable…” she muttered under her breath. “Nina…” filled with hopelessness, John muttered with concern, “…we can go bac-” “No!” She interrupted, looking at him, “We waited this long…” she said, “Not now…”

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It was not shameful to acknowledge  the simple fact you were nervous. For it was not the time to be in denial.

“Would you like to return to the Penthouse miss?”

You halted. Pacing back and forth in constant motion, you certain had forced Alfred Pennyworth to take notice. And you were embarrassed by it.

“No, I’m good…” you shook your head, “Thank you” smiling softly. Suddenly, you were overcome with a sense of unprofessionalism. You took a deep breath, “Did Bruce always use this place?” You inquired, looking around the underground concrete chamber.  

“Not when he was in the Wayne Manor” Alfred replied, sitting in front of the CCTV monitors. With the fire burning most of the Wayne Manor down a few years back, it seemed to make quite the sense to find solace in the Wayne Penthouse and here. Though the news blamed the man’s intoxication for the fire, you wondered if there was reason deeper at play. His enemies? Could tonight be a trap set out for him as well? Involuntarily you found yourself rubbing your forearms as a result. “It’s Master Wayne, Miss” Alfred said, “He will be alright” Smiling at him gratefully, you stood next to him to watch the screens. He was right. You hoped to believe him above all others. It was not too long since Bruce left. Thus, the memory remained fresh in your mind.

“But, but...wasn’t the Asylum supposed to have firm security?”

Your naive and loud  inquiry also was fresh in your memory, as the three of you descended to the concrete chamber. Your eyes were filled with quite a sight of the lair, the moment the white lights began to illuminate.

“It was supposed to…”

Bruce replied, hurried walking towards the monitors. Truthfully, when Alfred came in with the news, you assumed you would have been ask to head home. Therefore, being asked to accompany was unexpected. However, you worried of your possible lack of helpfulness.

“And we just have audio?”

“That’s what Gotham PD got…”

He said, as he kept replaying the phone call. The caller presumably from Arkham, was filled with fear. The more times the clip was played, the more you sensed the atmosphere in the room tense with every second. And by the 5th replay, you saw Bruce get up.

“I gotta get over there…” he said.

“What?”

Your involuntary response leaped out as your eyes traced his movements. As much as you were filled with wonder by the sight of the Bat suit, hung on a transparent rack that emerged from the concrete floor. “The police is going to need all the help it can get, if a breakout happens…” He added standing with arms crossed,  “Especially with the patients in there…”

“You mean like the J-” “Yeah…” “Of course…”

You said quietly. This certainly was not the time to protest for his safety or panic. A sense of responsibility came over you, the responsibility for your own emotions here. You were obligated to offer him your trust in this moment. Turning towards you, Bruce flashed a soft smile:

“Sorry I couldn’t give you the full tour…”

You shook your head without hesitation, “There’s time for that later…” you said, walking over to him, “Just-”you paused, “Be careful, okay?” For that all you could utter. That was what you should utter.

“I will…” Bruce replied, with you a reassuring look, “You stay put”

The sudden vibration in your sweatpants pocket, ushered you back to reality. Taking the phone out, Your eyes widened by the sight of the caller.

“Clara! Hey!” You answered with a smile, “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you last night I-”

“Listen, I need your help” you heard her mutter, “I think…” she inhaled a shakily, “I think I’m in trouble…”

With a cascade of words streaming out of her lips and into your ears through the communication line, certainly made you freeze in a stance. The manner in which your hand clenched, you were certain her distress was no simple matter. She needed your help.

Your initial instinct longed to dash out to the rescue. Yet you made a promise. Never did you preferred to be the naive one and break Bruce’s trust. However, you would never forgive yourself if you could not help either.

“Alfred..”

You breathed, as soon as you hung up, “I’m sorry but… I think I gotta go…Now before you say anything, there’s just a place I really need to be…A friend is in trouble” your lips rambled with concern, “Alfred, you gotta trust me. I wouldn’t go unless its necessary” you brought your hands together, “Please-”

“I believe you…”

Alfred answered with confidence. And you were truly surprised. Perhaps you expected protests and refusal.

“You do?”

“Yes” He said, “Which is why… I know you will do exactly as I say…”

Then again, given the years this man had lived through, it could be possible for him to easily trace of sincerity in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you felt your fist loosen:

“I’m all ears…”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, or Arkham Asylum for short, a psychiatric hospital-prison was home to the most criminally insane in the city of Gotham. Thus, the mere mention of a breach of it’s security certainly caused panic far and wide.

However, the moment Officer Dave Ramirez arrived at the scene, doubts and confusion was all he could come up with.

Standing in the midst of the chatter and the several police cars parked, his arms remained crossed as he slowly shook his head in disappointment. His gaze affixed on his partner, Officer Vance exiting the Asylum building with a skinny man handcuffed.

“A False alarm? Really?”

Ramirez inquired his partner with a scoff, “Do they think we’re a joke?” He questioned further as the man was  seated in the car. He certainly had a fair point. Never did they expect to come down all this way just to realize security breach existed, and it all was nothing but a fake call made by one convincing staff member in administration. With Arkham managing to apprehend the staff, several Gotham PD cars with armed officers had arrived just for a simply handover. It was an embarrassment to the riches. Closing the car door behind him, Vance sighed: “Well, the call was pretty convincing” he replied, looking at Ramirez, “Why he did it, he wont say..” “What?” “Yep, quiet as a mouse-” “HELP!” The loud cry from the seemingly quiet man forced every officer to turn in alarm, including Vance and Ramirez. “Oh…my…god” Ramirez muttered in shock as he lowered his guard. By the sight of none other than the Batman himself.

In a matter of swift movements, he had seemed to grabbed the man out of the car, only to press him fiercely against it with a loud thud! “Why did you do it?” Batman growled at the man, as Ramirez and Vance approached him, “Why did you make the call?” “Please! Don’t hurt me” the man  whimpered whilst hyperventilating, “I had my reasons” “Trust me, Buddy” Ramirez began, “Better save yourself now with the truth, before the Court rips you out with prison time” Truthfully, no officer was as shocked to see the Batman than Dave Ramirez. Known to the whole station as the shameless fan of the Dark Knight, this moment was rewarded for his patience. Yet regardless, it was key that he maintain his level of professionalism and suppress his inner fanatic. With his breath slowing down, the skinny man raised his hands in defense as he took a deep breath: “I was on my way to the store on my day off...” he continued, “...and all the sudden a car pulled up, and it got dark cause I had a bag over my head” he gulped, “....the next thing I knew, I was drowned in a bathtub full of ice” he said in pain, “...threatening me to fake a security fail and call the police…” “You could have told us that, you know?” Vance said. The man’s eyes widened. “How could I, man?” He said, “I was being fucking watched” he added through gritted teeth, “He was threatening to kill my family” “Who was it?” Batman inquired. “Some guy” he said, “...he was dressed in all black” “With a skull shaped mask?” Batman managed to add to his query before the cops could even interfere. The man nodded frantically: “Yes! AH-” Dropping the man down from his grip, Batman surprised all as he began to walk away out of the scene, “Keep this man safe” he growled pointing at the man. Vance and Ramirez looked at each other with confusion: “Wait! What’s going on?” Ramirez inquired. “This is a ruse” Batman replied hoarsely, as he climbed on his Bat-pod, the red and blue blinking lights reflected in his direction in the night. “For what?” Dave seemed more confused, until he gasped, “WAIT!” He cried as the Bat-Pod exited their location with a roaring sound, disappearing into the darkness faster than anyone expected. “Damn it!” Dave cried out, throwing his hat on the ground. Vance seemed concerned. “You okay?” Dave sighed into his palms, “Couldn’t even take a photo of the guy”he mumbled, to which Vance did nothing but roll his eyes.   “Pretty sure he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, Dave. The guy’s too smooth”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Parting greetings were heard and exchanged between the secretary and other employees as most of them prepared to go home after a long day. Half and hour passed, and the Lawyers still appeared to be in Henderson’s Office. Crossing his legs, Blake looked at the young woman:

“Long night tonight, huh?” Blake said, motioning towards the office door. She however, did not look surprised.

“Oh, it’s nothing new” she replied nonchalantly, turning her attention back to the computer.

Finally, the suits managed to exit Henderson’s office, but to John’s surprise, Simone still did not offer the green light he so required, as she merely shook her head in feigned apology. Exiting the washroom, Nina returned, only to identify the dejected look on John’s face.

“Still no?” She asked, to which Blake nodded upsettingly. Never was he the one to give up. Except this time, he was compelled to. A part of him wondered if it was his sheer naiveté blinding him. Sighing, it seemed that Nina Langdon was not going to take this anymore.

“Well, here goes nothing”

She muttered, taking a deep breath, “Ma’am?”

Changing her voice to a more polite tone, Nina approached the secretary, “Uh… it’s Simone right? I’m sorry but I think there’s a problem with the lock in the washroom. Could you check it out for me?”

Confused, the young woman seemingly was encouraged to listen. “Yeah sure...” She said, standing up to follow Nina towards the washroom. Getting up , John leaned towards that direction to listen:

“The door seems fine” he heard the young woman’s voice echo, “…Where exactly is the proble-HEY!!!”

“Oh gosh! I’m so sorry! See? I told you there’s something wrong with the lock. Let me-Let me get some help, okay?”

Smirking to himself, John could detect Nina’s feigned innocence with his eyes closed. And within seconds, she appeared before him, for time was of the essence:

“I locked her in. GO GO GO!” She hissed.

Suddenly tension was high, and while Nina kept watch by the washroom, John made his way to Henderson’s office. One way or another, he was certain to charge his way in and obtain answers.

“I hope we can put an end to this soon, Mr. Henderson…”

John paused. He had to, upon hearing a polite male voice through the door, which conveniently was never completely closed. And that was when he realized, out of the 4 men that entered half and hour earlier, only 3 had left. Holding his breath, John remained frozen as he could possibly be.

“….the Police is starting to get suspicious. Did you see the two waiting outside?”

“What? They’re still there?? I figured making them wait will make them leave”

Erik Henderson’s irritated voice boomed loud enough to end up in John’s ears with clarity. Given the tone of this conversation, he was more than certain this was of great importance. And when he took out his phone and pressed record, he was grateful of his decision.

For the answers he desired for, were finally handed to him on a silver platter. For the waiting finally seemed worthwhile. For Henderson’s attempts were merely futile.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your legs shook with nervousness in the taxi, when you made your way to Wayne Tower.

The fact you were merely dressed in Bruce’s black T-shirt and your sweatpants did not seem relevant at all at this point, for it was vital that you be there. For Clara. Especially since her phone call kept replaying in your mind on a constant loop:

“You might think I’m nuts but, I think I may have a stalker situation. Told you! It’s nuts, but had a feeling ever since I came to Wayne Enterprises. Uh…weeks later, it started to get worse…that’s why…that’s why I even had to leave sooner than my contract. When I left, I thought it would get better, but now I’m getting these weird silent calls and-Oh god! I didn’t know who else to call. Can we meet at Wayne Tower, please?  Its the safest place I could think of…”

The moment you felt the vehicle slow down, you were not hesitant to quickly stuff extra change you had into the pleased driver’s hand, jumping out of the car soon after. “You alright, sport?” Bill the Doorman inquired, as he saw you dash towards his direction. “Yeah!” You panted, “...by the way, did you see Clara come in?” “The consultant lady?” The man inquired, “Sure, I-” he paused when you made your way inside in a flash. Already past closing time, the building was almost unoccupied. Thus, the elevators were kinder. Tapping your foot impatiently as you made your way up, you truly wished for Clara’s safety. In your life, You were proudly capable of getting your Best Friend Allison our of debt. But tonight, you wondered if you were truly able to help out Clara? Would you possess the necessary sources? “CLARA!?!?” Yelling out, you jumped into the HR Floor. Only to find no one there. “Boss! What you doing here?” Except for Greg, the Assistant Manager, who walked towards you with his bag slung across his chest. Panting, you were certain you were a mess. Truthfully you did not care.   “Looking...” you panted, “...for Clara…” you said, holding him by his forearms, “Did you see her?” You inquired in seriousness. “Yeah I did...” he appeared confused, “ ...said she was heading to the roof....” Greg added,  “I mean, it was kinda weird to see her back after the goodbye and-” “Okay great, Thanks Greg!” You would normally feel remorseful for cutting him off this way, yet this was not the time. For it seemed you simply were not blessed with enough time. With the technology of Wayne Enterprises, getting to the top floor was not task at all, yet even the mere few seconds seemed terribly slow. “Please, Please! Don’t be in trouble” You muttered to yourself, “Please...” Jumping out once again, your heartbeat reached a new level of speed, whilst you prayed to find her outside on the rooftop.

“CLARA? I-”

Halting in your tracks, you froze. With immense shock. A shock you had never faced before in your life. Clara Bennett stood by the edge of the rooftop. Except she was not alone.

“No!” you breathed, “ Alpha... ” The pain of the strangulation haunted you once more, upon seeing the dark figure. Grabbing her tightly by the back of her neck, Alpha stood beside Clara, with a gun pointed directly into her lowered head. Given the distance, you had difficulty tracing Clara’s emotions at this point. Regardless, you knew she was a mess.Your heart pounded even further with desperation. Were you really capable of assisting now? “YOU!” You cried, taking a step forward, “W-What are you doing here??” Desperation forced you with an inquiry. For you were genuinely impatient for answers.However, Alpha did not reply. A passenger plane headed towards the direction of Wayne Tower. You would not have paid it much attention if it were not for Alpha looking up. What plan did it have? You were helpless. “What do you want with her? She’s got nothing to do with this!” You yelled with desperation as the plane flew overhead with enough proximity, forcing you to yell out even further as Alpha grabbed Clara tighter. The sound emitting from the flying machine was thunderous, and so was your fear:
 “Please! Just leave her out of th-”
 An air shattering bang struck you hard on the ears, leaving you frozen. It was a gunshot, and it seemed quite evident. Especially when Alpha finally lowered its gun, leaving Clara Bennett to fall on the ground, like a piece of meat. Suddenly, all your worst fears had come to light.

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!”

You bellowed, your feet urging you to dash over to her body. Alpha had disappeared somehow, and truthfully you did not care. “Clara? Clara?” You cried out, as tears flowed down your cheeks like a raging stream, “Oh my god! Oh my god!” you whimpered, seeing her slumped on her stomach facing down, body unmoving, “ Please don’t be dead, Please…” you said, as you turned her over. 
 Except your tears did not make sense, when you realized why she was a mess. For it was not Clara. As much as you were certain it was her clothes and the hairstyle, it was not her. Though it was someone seemingly familiar.

“E-Emilio??”

You muttered softly, eyes widened by the sight of the man dead on the ground. However, you were filled with another confusion. If this was Emilio in disguise, then what of the real Clara? Where was she all along?

Bang!

A thundering clap rang in your ears as your body jerked with surprise. Before you knew it, you found your own self  falling to the ground in an instant.

You landed on your back with a loud thud! Your breathing was loud, but your heartbeat was louder. Even your sight did not fail to grow blurry. Thus, numbness had taken over you whilst you were knee deep in confusion. Only within a few seconds did a raging pain arose from your stomach.
 You were shot. Were you to meet Emilio’s fate as well?

“Don’t worry...Clara is okay” 


Screams exited your lips the moment Alpha’s voice haunted you, all the while pressing it’s foot on your stomach, right on the gunshot. Raging pain enraged itself even further. Suddenly your vision was far from blurry as you watched the dark figure stand before you.

“In fact, she’s more than..okay”

Alpha said, with its free hand reach for  its mask. You drew in deep breaths, “H-How?” You coughed weakly, “How do you know?”

Your inquiry seemed remorseful when you saw the figure slowly unmask oneself. And the moment it freed itself from the constraints, the moment your eyes caught the sight of the one behind it, every trace of oxygen suddenly expired.

For it was Clara.

Eyes widening even further, your heart plummeted straight deep, and hope was nonexistent anymore. Clara Bennett, the consultant was Alpha, the Assassin this entire time? Worst of all, the one who had been trying to eliminate your existence?

“No no no no…”

You kept repeating through the pain,  “I mean, Henderson being an ass, I can understand, but this?” You muttered weakly. With a scoff brimming with sadness, you looked at her directly, “You’re not even a consultant , are you?”

You inquired, which was followed by a cough.

“Why else wouldn’t I be working at Hudsons, the best HR consultancy company?” She chucked coldly, with her eyebrow raised, “They’re too legit to fake your way in…it’s definitely a grueling process”

You screamed further, as she continued to press on to the wound tighter with her foot. Standing tall and looking down at you,  Clara’s eyes had no life whilst her lips adjusted her expression close to smugness. A smugness that seemed much colder than what you saw in her on the very first day. Dressed in her black suit and armor vest, she was the epitome of power. And before her, you were certainly powerless beyond all measure.

Being smothered with pain, it was evident you were about to meet your maker. Worst of all, to face the end with treachery. Inevitability cannot be amended, thus you had no choice but to remain calm.

If only you spoke to Bruce one last time before all this. If only. Your heart may have not suffered from the bullet, yet it already was shattered into a million pieces. How could Clara do this?

“That’s quite the risk you took…” you breathed with snark, “...revealing yourself with all the CCTV’s around.” “Wouldn’t exactly be a risk if the cameras are rewired now, would it?” Clara replied with thicker snark, “Besides, I had help” You gasped the moment your eyes caught the sight of Emilio standing beside her, his head donned with red stains and no wig. You chuckled sadly. Indeed, he was never dead after all. Easily fitting the profile of the Bodega shootout, you never felt this idiotic to not notice. “Loyalty has its perks, you know that” Clara smiled, her actions familiar yet different at the same time. Your eyes grew watery. Indeed, you knew. However, little did she know she took advantage of yours. “So all that…” you began, voice choking with emotion, “…the initial dispute, driving me up the wall…” you sniffed, “…frustrating me, questioning my abilities, then..” “-Making up with you and being friends shit blah blah...yeah! It was all an act” she said, shrugging it off with casualty, “…how else could I get you to trust me?” It was a nightmare come to life. It was that unfathomable. Beyond your comprehension . Losing trust was never a shock. But to the degree of murder, definitely a first. “And here I thought I made a new friend…” you muttered, holding back your tears. “For a second I thought the same…” Clara added, to your genuine surprise, “…truthfully anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend, I won’t lie….”  she said, her tone growing sombre whilst you caught a sense of warmth in her eyes,  “…but…” blinking the warmth away, her orbs were chilled once more, “…you know what they say: ‘Never mix business with Personal’ ” A part of you longed for the goodness in her to overpower her taste for blood. “Still…” you said, through gritted teeth, “ I think there REALLY was no need for theatrics like this ”  you said, looking at the emotionless Emilio. He had trained well, you had a feeling. And so was Clara. Was her name really that ? You wondered.

“True…” Clara acknowledged with a nod. Fearful whimpers left you the moment she stepped away from your stomach, cocked the gun and pointed right at you. “…but you were not so easy to kill now, were you?” She said,  “…especially with your special friend watching over you the whole time”

Panting, your eyes squinted with confusion, “W-Who?“

“She meant me!”

A familiar growl, it awakened your senses in a flash, alarming the others as another black figure jumped in to shield you.

Batman. Bruce.

The sight of the majestic, flowing cape and the pointed ears brought a sense of security to you once again. Even if you were dying.

“Well…” Clara pointed her gun at him with a smile,  “…this was an eventuality” “YOU AGAIN!”

Fuming with anger, Emilio yelled out upon mere sight of him. Fascinating how anger and rage blasts through his cold exterior similar to a bomb.

“You won’t get to her…” Batman growled, “…without going through me”

“Don’t worry!” Clara responded, “We won’t disappoint”

All before she began to fire shots at him, to your horror.

But Batman was indeed Batman. And with the shots being deflected with no hesitation, he seemingly managed to approach  her close enough for an offense attack, until Emilio dove in, lunging at Batman with enough ferocity, he fell backwards. Getting up, you watched him finding himself being surrounded by two assassins circling him like a pack of wolves. Impatient Emilio attacked first, with a diagonal kick right on his stomach, providing Clara enough  opportunity to kick from the back. Though attacked from multiple sides, Batman did not falter. With his sturdy frame safeguarding him, defense was his only option for the time being. However, that did not stop him from making life difficult for the two.

Panting hurriedly, you watched the Dark Knight, the man you truly cared for, being attacked by merciless assassins. This sight, it certainly was not the what you hoped for him. Not another death. Not when your own life was almost slipping away.

Except, you came to a realization. Was it not that you had been “slipping away”  for longer than expected? Placing a hand over the gun shot wound with suspicion, you felt through it. Looking at the hand, you gasped.

For there was no blood. Not even one drop.

With fingers tracing over your stomach further, you sighed with relief, when you were reminded why exactly.

Pure adrenaline and sheer motivation energized your heart to pump fast and for you to jump up to your feet. You were adamant in helping him. But you were well aware of your own limited capabilities. Watching the violent encounter, you suddenly heard an object drop. It was your phone, vibrating with a call. From John Blake.

“Officer Blake!” You answered with haste, “Thank God…” you wailed with desperation.

“Ma-am! Wait! Whats going on?” He inquired with concern, “ You okay?”

“It’s Alpha!” You cried, as you crouched on to the ground, “We’re being attacked at Wayne Tower-DUCK!”  You cried, looking at struggling Bruce, “Batman’s here but-”

“Okay! Okay! Stay Calm! We’ll be on our way…”

The moment you hung up, a text suddenly appeared on the screen. Also from Blake, which read:

Henderson on tape. This may be useful with Alpha. Hurry!

Seeing a voice file attached right below, your eyes squinted with confusion. What could that possibly mean? However, patience was beyond your reach at the moment.  Placing your trust on John Blake, you remained crouched and listened to the file. The moment the recording finally finished, your eyes widened with shock.

Amidst the chaos in the background, you stared at the phone screen. For the only question lingering in your conscious was: Could this actually solve everything?

——————————————————

FINAL Chapter HERE

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[saladejin]

What Words Can’t Say | OT7

OT7 x Reader | idolverse, fansign!au | Fluff, slight crack, social awkwardness, probably seems unrealistic

(very self-indulgent, from 2-3 years ago) 

Summary: You go to a fansign event for the very first time, but you can’t speak Korean. How will you win over the boys?

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay so I was debating on bringing this over from AO3 for the longest time. It’s an older one-shot and very much fuelled by the fansign fantasies many of us have had (if you’re an international ARMY like me). 

MEANING it’s quite packed with what I consider to be clichés, since I really had to try and put myself in the shoes of someone who’s been to a fansign (and having to write the boys kind of in character took lots of thought). So I’m sorry if this is too unbearable for some! I did my best at the time. 

*Request from my Ao3 series ‘Movie Night’. 

  Bold = English (very important).

.

.

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      The anticipation was actually killing you, there was no denying it.

Somehow, things had happened and now you were waiting in the line to meet and talk to your favourite band of all time, the Bangtan Boys. Yeah … things had definitely happened, and you were quite frankly still shaken at the very thought. How had you even won a ticket to the fan-meet in the first place?

You couldn’t remember, not at a time like this.

The line was long, and you had already been waiting in it for about two hours since you weren’t even close to the front of the line. At any other time you would’ve been a bit bummed, but now the anticipation was eating away at you. Well, actually the main reasons were:

1. You were an international fan, and that wouldn’t even be a problem if you had made an earlier trip or something.

2. You hadn’t expected to win a ticket, so here you were with your rusty ass Korean skills.

3. No written hangul = no questions or easy conversation.

What were you going to do!? 

You had prepared literally everything you could, thinking hard about gifts and writing a small letter to Namjoon in English that would sum up what you would’ve written to everyone if you could, but the written Korean had just been a little too much to master in the time you had.

Sure, you had memorised a few key verbal phrases and responses for the general meeting, but this was seriously going to be tough. You would try your best at expressing your adoration for all seven boys, but you were so scared the message just wasn’t going to filter through well enough.

It’s actually a good thing I’m not at the front, then I’m not holding up too many people.

You watched as the boys interacted with their fans so affectionately, and cursed yourself for not being good enough at languages. Honestly, just meeting them and hearing them speak at all would be enough, but you so badly wanted much, much more.

I tried, that’s all I can say.

~

The boys were looking stunning as usual, hair coloured black and shining under the lights of the closed venue; their clothes appearing just as stylish as usual.

You hadn’t dolled yourself up too much in comparison, opting for light natural makeup and a trendy enough choice of fashion. You just wanted to be comfortable, and you knew you had made the right choice when you spotted some fans grimacing in pain from their heels or pulling down on their ill-fitting tops and dresses.

The boys wouldn’t be judging that aspect the most anyway, because it was your speaking you were terrified about. You took solace in knowing the gifts were what you’d put most of your thought into, because you’d spent so much time making them for about three nights in a row.

I mean, if you couldn’t write them lengthy letters, why not make them something they could have fun and create fan-related memories with? That was all you could ask for.

~

Finally, the girls from the current row were almost gone, and your row moved up to the front expectantly. You could see the boys closely now, and the smile on your face couldn’t possibly get any wider. The last few fans were taking their time at the end of the table, and as a result most of the members were idly looking into the audience or speaking into the microphone every now and again.

“How are you all? Tired?” Jimin smiled as he rested his head in his hands, rings glinting underneath the harsh lighting. Replies echoed back at the boy loudly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak because your breath had literally been stolen by his effortless charm.

How were you going to survive being in front of them?

“That’s good, make sure you drink lots of water,” Jimin advised before letting the microphone rest on the table below him, running one hand through his hair to shake away any messiness.

One fan screamed something from further behind your row, but you couldn’t quite catch what it was. The members who heard the outburst fell into fits of laughter, and you saw Hoseok lean sideways to slap Jimin on the shoulder as he chuckled. The younger boy hid his face slightly, but his smile was positively beaming.

“Thank you for that!” Taehyung saluted towards the rowdier part of the audience in response. Literally every time one of the boys did something, shouts and high-pitched screams of the fans would follow. It was easy enough to drown out though, and you had to admit joining in sometimes.

Oh my God, is Seokjin smiling at me?

You froze as you trailed your eyes down to the left side of the table and locked gazes with the eldest of the band. He seemed to be looking at the whole row, but you swore you saw his eyes darting back and forth to your area more than a few times.

“He’s looking at us!” The fan next to you squealed and grasped lightly onto your arm in a bout of excitement, but you couldn’t blame her.

Seokjin spotted the exchange and did a tiny wave in your direction, causing you to raise your own hand and blow a small kiss back at him sweetly.

Wait, why did you just do that?

“You’re cute, but I’ll always be the best.” Seokjin grinned as he picked up his microphone and let it drop again before dramatically blowing his signature kiss right back at you. You laughed loudly, but it was drowned out by the shattering screams of the surrounding fans.

“He just spoke to you!” The same fan from before faced you while shaking her arms around in exaggeration.

“Yeah, we are next. You talk soon,” you pointed out with raised eyebrows and tried your best to gather your Korean the best you could.

“Oh, are you foreign?” She tilted her head in confusion, long black hair swinging.

“Yes, I’m very lucky!”

But it must be too easy to tell…

“Amazing, I’m happy you could come and meet the boys too!” she replied with just as much enthusiasm alighting her tone. The conversation then ended when people started screaming for Yoongi to make hearts, and the kind girl turned away to voice her own input.

You noted that you were kind of short compared to many of the Korean girls and boys sitting in the audience, but it wasn’t too strange. Even younger fans came to these fansigns sometimes.

“Next please,” a deepened voice urged from the end of your row, and you gulped as the nerves gripped at your tightening throat. “Oh my God this is happening,” You murmured, and jumped when the same girl in front of you turned around with a smile.

“It’s okay, fun have fun!”

It was so nice that she was comforting you in your own language.

You bowed your thanks with your own smile and turned to wait for the line to inch along again. Most of the boys were idle now, and while Taehyung was doing cute little dances towards the ARMYs in the audience, the rest were scanning over your row to see what would await them.

Seokjin was occupied by the first fan, but your breath hitched when you saw Jimin and Jungkook throwing tiny waves towards the members of your row. The latter obviously imitating the former like the mischievous brat he was. Still, your mind melted at the adorable sight of their cheeky smiles, and you couldn’t help but clutch at your chest with one hand.

“Are you okay? You there in the first row?” Jimin’s giggle brought you back to your senses, and it took you a good couple of seconds to register that it was you he was talking to. The boy looked at you with amusement, his parted black locks framing his face handsomely as his eyebrows drew together in mock concern.

“Everyone,” Jungkook grasped for his mic, “Jimin-hyung is making you all have heart attacks, what will you do?”

The fans shouted their responses, but you weren’t capable of deciphering them too well. You thought you heard one girl shout something along the lines of ‘send me to hospital!’, but you weren’t entirely sure.

“I’ve had too many today,” You shook your head when the noises had died down just enough for them to hear, and were rewarded with the amused chuckles of the maknaes in return.

“Calm your hearts, everyone!” Hoseok waved one arm and let his tone drop into a warning, causing everyone to laugh at his concerned pout.

Wow, you were seriously interacting with them already and you hadn’t even reached the table. You could almost shriek with happiness.

“Next.”

Okay this is it, God give me courage.

You gripped your bag harder as you breathed shakily, taking careful steps to kneel at the end of the table in front of an eager Seokjin. His eyes crinkled as he smiled down at you, and you could barely stop the rumbling emotions from surfacing.

“Hello!” He grinned as he went straight to signing the album page in front of him, his large hand effortlessly gliding along the route even his muscles would probably remember.

“Hello,” You bowed, “I’m so happy to meet you, Jin.”

Seokjin chuckled as he finished up with the signature and leant forward in his seat to hear you better. His loose shirt was dipping a bit too low for your trembling heart to handle.

“Are you … Are you English speaking ARMY?”

Your breathing drew to a stop and you forced down a groan of disappointment.

“Ah, too easy to tell right? Hello, yes I speak English. Sorry!” You bowed and let both of your hands rest on the table so you could relax. You knew you wouldn’t be able to stay for too long, but your legs were falling asleep already.

“It’s okay! Where are you from?” Seokjin smiled and leaned even further forwards. You swore you heard him mumble a ‘cute’ somewhere along the line, but you were too focused on trying to speak properly that you let it soar right over your head.

“(Y/c), we love you there.” You beamed and also leaned forwards so he could catch everything you were saying. You were sure your eyes were glistening with adoration, so you hoped that would get across most of the thoughts you kept stored within.

“Wow, thank you for coming.” He tilted his head in appreciation and held up both hands for you to grasp onto. You swallowed apprehensively, and as you reached up to interlock your fingers together with his much longer ones, he cooed at your expression.

“I love your voice and I love your jokes,” You stated as you looked upwards for two reasons. Firstly to try and conjure forth the words you were thinking about, and secondly to stop any pesky tears from flowing down your cheeks suddenly. The fact that you were holding hands with Kim Seokjin himself was enough to break you down into a weeping mess.

Deciding you couldn’t take any more struggling, you reached into your bag to bring out the envelope marked with his name, in your best attempt at Korean handwriting. You also brought out a tiny flipbook with certain phrases scrawled across the marked pages.

“Please keep this with you until I reach the end of the table, I have one for everyone so I want you to open them all together please,” You read out confidently now that you had the confirming notes, and at your smile, the black-haired vocalist nodded his head fondly.

“Thank you so much, what is your name? What is your name?”

You returned his toothy smile.

“(Y/n), thank you-”

Your face dropped as the loitering staff behind the eldest member urged you to move with one sharp hand gesture, and you felt your chest tighten at the thought of pointlessly wasting too much time.

Seokjin saw the flicker of sadness cross your features, and looked behind him to see what was happening before turning around with his own pout.

“Thank you (Y/n), I will open,” He held up the envelope, and waved it along with his hand in farewell so cutely that you gripped at your heart again. The feelings of giddy glee swelled inside you, and you couldn’t help but grow excited once more as you waved your goodbyes enthusiastically and scooted over to sit in front of Hoseok.

Seokjin followed your form with a lingering smile, but it morphed into a frown when a staff member tried to slide the envelope away from underneath his fingertips.

“No, not yet please. It’s a surprise for later!”

You missed the exchange because you were already deep into an English conversation with J-hope himself. He had been idle for the last half of your conversation with Jin, so he had instantly picked up on your language barrier and greeted you warmly when you moved.

“(Y/c)? Wow, long way! Is this your first time?” The bright-spirited rapper made quick work of the signing before holding one hand up for a crisp high-five. You obliged immediately with the most dazzling smile you could muster.

“Yes, first time!”

“Is your heart okay? Now?” He asked suddenly, and it took you a few moments to realise that he was talking about the minutes before you had even made it to the table. Where Jimin had caused your very life essence to falter for a few moments.

“You remembered me? Well, no,” You smirked after laughing, letting your hands be held by the grinning man in front of you endearingly.

“Oh! Why?” He questioned while his eyes widened with concern, and you pulled one of your hands free to point at him cutely.

“Because of you.”

Hoseok made a loud sound of amazement and leaned back in his seat, the large smile never leaving his features as he shook your hand back and forth gently. The reaction had been something you were expecting, and you could feel your sides beginning to hurt from how much you were containing the laughter.

“Hobi-hyung is the one giving heart attacks now,” Jimin’s voice suddenly rang out through the concert hall, and you whipped your head around to see him sitting next to Hoseok and talking into the microphone lowly. When he turned back to watch you, your eyes blew wide because his eye-smile was just way too cute.

Hoseok pulled you back to him with a soft tug against your fingers, and you cursed yourself internally for wasting time again.

“Ah, sorry oppa, please take this. I love your mixtape!”

He mouthed the word ‘oppa’ and giggled before thanking you sincerely, but you were so taken aback by his overall cheerfulness that you forgot any misgivings you had about your pronunciation. You repeated the same instructions by reading off your booklet, but jolted in surprise when a hand tentatively reached forward to poke one of your cheeks lightly.

“Cute! Isn’t she cute Jiminie?” Hoseok shook his head in wonder, and you were even more surprised to see that Jimin had been watching the rest of the encounter as well. Had you actually managed to catch the curiosity of all the members already?

“Yes, hurry it up so she can sit with me!” Jimin playfully wacked his hyung’s shoulder and you laughed at their antics, eyeing the irked staff members behind them wearily.

I wish I could just spend as much time as I wanted here.

“Bye Hobi, please open later!” You waved rapidly and high-fived the rapper one more time, making sure he slid the envelope towards himself before scooting across to where Jimin was smiling widely down at you.

Since Hoseok had barely heard the instructions you had given him, he reached over to tap Seokjin’s shoulder for some help. If only he hadn’t been too caught up with the adorable foreign girl who had seemingly captured his heart from one measly conversation.

As you chatted with Jimin using your broken Korean, you noticed the members further down the table growing curious about the envelopes you were leaving behind in your wake. The staff members were probably going to hate your guts, but hey; you were here to make an impression and showcase your full love and devotion in any way that you could. Nothing would stop you now.

“I … don’t speak English,” Jimin warned when he finished signing, and rested his hands underneath his chin to prop himself up. He was most likely exhausted, but he still seemed fully enraptured with you and anything you had to say. Maybe you just looked interesting enough to pay extra special attention too, but you eventually figured they acted this way with every single fan.

“It’s okay!” You swiped one hand through the air reassuringly, and he dipped his head in another bout of amused chuckling. Just from your loud and bubbly tone alone.

“I learn, for you.” You swapped your hand to point to yourself then to him, not even having to try too hard to maintain a warm smile. The boy in front of you was too charming, and you couldn’t resist your expressions just quirking in that way.

“Thank you, you’re a very sweet ARMY. Where…wait, what is your name?” He confidently voiced the last question in a very triumphant tone, and you let out a loud sound of wonder and surprise.

“I’m (Y/n), you’re English is great!”

Jimin calculated for a few seconds before gasping and holding up his hands for you to hold. You reacted instantly and sat up on your knees to reach his hands, relishing in the way his pretty fingers held yours and swayed them from side to side softly.

“I love your voice, and I love your dancing. You … a beautiful dancer,” You breathed out, trying not to let the emotions build up and lodge in your throat again, but it was very difficult. Jimin smiled at your praise, but unfortunately noticed your watery eyes and cut his chuckling short.

“Thank you! Oh, no cry.” He craned his neck downwards to look up into your line of sight, and you fought back the prickling behind your eyelids with a playful groan of annoyance.

“I’m just too happy, I love you guys.”

“Happy? Happy cry?” The vocalist smiled sweetly while grasping your hands once more.

“I love you too (Y/n)!”

God, this boy would seriously leave you dead on the floor one of these days.

“Excuse me, please move along,” A staff member looked at you pointedly with raised eyebrows, and you knew you were definitely not in their good books already. You were only three members in, for crying out loud!

“Oh, okay. Wait, Jiminie can you please take this?” You scrambled to find the correct envelope from your bag, and you flickered your gaze upwards to nod at the staff member in assurance before inching sideways slowly.

“Yes, open later like the others?” Jimin queried while pointing to Hoseok and Seokjin who were locked in conversations with other fans, but the former side-glared at his younger member curiously when he saw the pointed finger.

Wow, he’s been paying close attention.

“Yes, thank you and I’ll miss you!” You exchanged high-fives and sweetened smiles with him one last time before you suddenly found yourself face-to-face with a concentrating Taehyung. Well, he was laser-focused on signing the album at first, but he finished quickly seeing as though you took so long with your goodbyes to Jimin.

“Hello.” He waved adorably, and your whole demeanour brightened when you heard the English right from the very get-go. This caused a few amused and awed chuckles from other parts of the table, but you let all the other sounds drown out.

“Hello Tae, thank you so much!” You beamed again, and you wondered how your face wasn’t aching from all the unusual stretching. Thinking ahead, you fished out his envelope early so you wouldn’t have to flounder with it later on.

“Ah, very cute,” He pointed to the handwriting displayed on the card and chuckled, showing off his boxy smile before meeting your gaze with his own honey-chocolate eyes. His voice and visuals up close were absolutely breathtaking, and you had to take a deep breath before you could even form words.

“Thank you, Oh my God.” You buried your face in your hands, urging away the prickling and masking your crackling voice with laughter. You had managed to keep it together so far, you just needed to last until the end.

“Okay,” You started after Tae’s own chuckles had died out, “I love your singing so much, and I love your humour, very funny.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows at your sudden Korean and clapped for you once you had finished. As he ruffled his own hair, you became breathless at how stunning his smile actually was.

“Thank you! You know Korean?”

“A little,” You cringed, obviously wishing you knew more. Taehyung reached forward to hold your hands softly.

“No, no. Your Korean is good!” He flashed a thumbs up before keeping his hand there for a high-five. You smiled and reached upon your knees to press your palm to his incredibly larger one, letting out a high-pitched sound of surprise when he enveloped your fingers within his own.

“How are you today?” He giggled, the airy sound trailing his voice so adorably.

“Amazing!”

“Amazing? Because you meet BTS?” He tilted his head, shaking your hands just like how Hoseok had previously.

“Of course, I’m such a big fan. I love your songs,” You gripped his hands just like he had gripped yours, and overflowed with joy when the young vocalist actually seemed to understand your words. 

“Oh yes, favourite song? Do you have?”

Ah, this would be a tricky one.

“I sing for you,” He added with a smirk and nodded encouragingly when you widened your eyes at him. “Can you sing with me?”

Okay, now you were terrified. Sing with Kim Taehyung? How could you ever even hope to use your vocal cords in his proximity?

“I love Singularity,” You suggested with a smile nonetheless, “But I’m not very good at Korean. Little Korean.”

You repeated your gesture solemnly, as you were constantly reminded of your inadequacy. The boy in front of you pouted and shook his head.

“No, you very good. I sing for you.”

You suddenly realised why the song had come to mind first, and that was because it was actually currently playing over the speakers to promote their album. He gasped silently and pointed upwards when you both realised, big brown eyes glimmering with joy. You let your eyes flutter closed when he began singing the melody that accompanied the music.

I’ll never get over it. The huskiness, the smooth dulcet tones…

You were broken from the trance when he cut himself off, and you opened your eyes to see the staff member gesturing for you to move urgently. The moments of sadness were so painful, but you took another breath and steeled yourself to leave the vocalist and move on. The gloom would still be there after this whole thing anyway, probably stronger than before.

“Bye bye, please open after!” You slid the envelope further towards the boy, but laughed when you caught sight of his dramatic fake crying. He reached towards you with two hands again and you high-fived him eagerly. He was actually the cutest bean alive, and you adored his childish side as well whenever it came out.

As you shuffled along to meet Namjoon, you felt cold dread bloom within your chest when you saw a new staff member walk up and reach in to take the envelope from Taehyung’s part of the table. The said boy was too caught up with the next fan to even take notice, and you felt your heart breaking at the thought of him not being able to receive his gift along with the others.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Namjoon’s deep voice sliced into your thoughts like a knife, and you scolded yourself for being so incredibly rude.

“Hello RM! Sorry, it’s nothing. I should have known the gift thing wasn’t going to work out perfectly.”

Ah, why were you so negative all of a sudden? The leader of BTS had these few precious moments with you, but you were wasting them!

“It’s okay! I’m so, so happy to meet you, you’re such an amazing and inspiring person.” You clapped your hands together and bowed lightly in his direction, causing the rapper to smile and show off his dimples in the most endearing way possible. Was it just you, or did you hear him also mumble a small ‘cute’ under his breath?

“I’m glad to meet you too, what’s your name?”

“I’m (Y/n).”

“Hello (Y/n), how have you been today? Has it been fun?” He held out his hands for you to high-five while you were positively swooning from his welcoming smile.

After holding his hands, you launched into the rantings you’d had to keep to yourself for the other boys. Well, it wasn’t that different, you just went into more detail about how much you loved and enjoyed the band and everything they put out for their fans to hear.

“So I just wanted to let you know all of that, and I’m sorry I couldn’t learn properly to tell all of you.” You sighed, reaching into your bag to pull out Namjoon’s envelope and extra little letter. The letter basically had some of what you just said, but sometimes it was just easier to express things on paper.

“Wow, thank you for all your thoughts. You know, we really appreciate you coming all this way and supporting us, everything means a lot.” Namjoon looked at you with so much sincerity and appreciation, you could barely even contain yourself.

“It’s always worth it, your messages will always reach us. I’ve always wanted to thank you for the effort you put in, and thank you for loving music as much as you do.”

Namjoon put one hand over his heart and nodded, smiling widely and laughing that bashful laugh of his.

“Please take this and open it when I’m at the end. Actually, I don’t think it’ll work…” You trailed off when you remembered Taehyung’s had already been taken away from him, so the plan for them all to have matching presents would be soiled.

“Oh, the envelopes? I saw you giving them out before, they’re quite big to be just ordinary letters. What are they?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow as he grabbed for the mentioned paper. “Hold on, this is solid.”

You wore a smirk again. “Yeah, they’re just things I made for all of you, something I thought you’d find a bit fun. But I wanted you to all open them together.”

Your head flicked sideways when you saw Taehyung moving out of the corner of your eye. He looked down under the table and then around himself worriedly, bringing up his hands to indicate he’d lost something.

“V-ssi, your envelope?” Namjoon asked into the microphone so the ARMYs in the crowd could understand what was happening.

“Hyung, did you see where it went?”

You were shifting along the line again, as the staff were not letting up, but you did want to find out if Taehyung would get his gift back or not. I mean, you wouldn’t be that surprised if they all just gave up and let the staff add the envelopes to their massively growing pile of letters.

“Bye (Y/n), I’ll make sure we all have the presents,” Namjoon waved at you cutely and you returned it immediately, feeling a bit shitty that your experience had been slightly ruined by your own creations.

“Hello, English?” Yoongi murmured when you finally settled in front of him, and you had no choice to return his small smile.

“I don’t have to, but I know little Korean. Sorry!”

The rapper shook his head in mock disappointment, and you laughed in response. His sarcasm was always something you had adored.

“What is your name? I heard something like (Y…?”

“(Y/n), you were almost there.” You chuckled, and you felt so happy to see him smiling along with you. Everyone always enjoyed saying he was cold, but this was just pure evidence that he loved interacting with fans just as much as the others did. It’s normal to show it in different ways.

“Yoongi I just want to say, I just want to say I love your rapping and your music production and writing so much. You are very talented.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows and let his mouth gape slightly at the language change, smiling at the pronunciation. Maybe he just found it cute like the others? You hoped you weren’t making a fool of yourself.

“Thank you, (Y/n).” He reached forward with one hand, and you didn’t even hesitate to press your own palm into it softly.

“I think,” You took a moment to look down at your flipbook, “I think your emotions really flow into your music extremely well, and people love relating to your lyrics.”

Yoongi smirked and nodded, showing how much he was appreciating your words through his actions rather than speaking. He let go of your hand momentarily to thank you again, also applauding you for your obvious practicing of the phrase.

“Can you please take this and open it when I’m at the end?” You pulled the second last envelope from the bunch and slid it over to his side of the table.

He took it with another nod and flashed you a tiny smile as you were urged along the line yet again. Time went by so fast, and you knew your whole fansign experience was soon going to draw to a close.

“Jungkookie!” You cooed quietly as you shuffled over to the last remaining member of BTS. The maknae grinned and widened his eyes at your non-discreet entrance, but you knew it wouldn’t be anything he wasn’t used to.

“Hello, do you have a present for me too?” Jungkook rubbed his hands together mischievously, but you hummed lowly.

“Sorry, uh, English? All I got was present, I think,” You cursed at yourself internally, again.

“Oh!”

Poor bunny.

“Uh, present? For me?” The dark-haired vocalist cocked his head with the most adorable expression of curiosity you had ever seen.

You vaguely noted Taehyung getting to his feet now that he didn’t have any fans sitting in front of him, taking a few steps backwards to discuss something with the staff.

“Taehyungie lost his present,” Jimin said into the microphone, smiling out into the crowd as cheers of support chorused from it. Taehyung turned back around and threw a thumbs up towards the mass of fans, and in return the room erupted into screams.

“Very…loud,” Jungkook brought one hand up to gesture around his ear, and you melted at how cute he was when he spoke in English using that characteristically shy voice of his.

After telling him your name and where you were from, you gave the maknae his envelope and chatted with him for a few more seconds about his singing and dancing. You had touched on your favourite points with each member, and that fact alone made you feel more accomplished than ever before. Now they knew how you felt, at least you hoped they did to some extent.

“Thank you, I heard V-hyung singing,” Jungkook pointed down the table. “I sing too?”

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, a staff member came right in beside the end of the table to point you towards the exit, and your face fractured into the most sullen expression you had worn for the whole night.

Jungkook noticed, and so did several other members who weren’t occupied. Together they smiled and waved, eventually causing the rest to join in once they realised what was going on.

“Sorry, Bye (Y/n)!” Jungkook held up his hand for a high-five, and you smiled again to oblige enthusiastically.

“I sing next time!”

“I hope, there’s next time,” You laughed, trying hard to think about the vocabulary to use.

“Sorry everyone, but we can open them now?” Seokjin complained into his microphone, obviously impatient after having the longest wait time.

The staff directed you towards the side of the stage, and you took one look behind you to see every single member ripping open their envelopes to see what was inside, regardless of if they had fans waiting in front of them or not.

“Wow!”

“Oh, these are great!”

“Ohhhh…”

~

It wasn’t anything spectacular you had put together, they were just colourful headbands. Well, to be exact they were headbands that had each member’s name in large letters following the arc of the band, in their favourite colours of course. Fun!

The idea had been a very fun one, and you knew the hilarious photos that could come out of Hoseok having a massive, green ‘J-HOPE’ protruding from his head during shows for example. The thing was, you knew they would love to have something like this a keepsake, and you hadn’t held back at all when thinking about the size and vibrant shades of the decorations.

It was go big or go home.

“Thank you (Y/n)!” Seokjin’s voice flooded the whole area, but it was almost drowned out by the roar of the screaming crowd. He now wore a massive blue ‘Jin’ on his head, and the audience were absolutely loving it.

You felt warm inside, because it wasn’t as if you needed to be acknowledged or put on a pedestal. As long as they were happy, even if it was just for a few fleeting moments, your job was done.

          Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Unedited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Twenty Nine: The One With the Weeks After

Warnings: Weight loss

Word Count: 2135

    The first week was the easiest. She busied herself with work, made sure to tell Hunter everything and keep him in the loop. Cleaned the house until there was nothing left. At night she'd scrub the floors until her fingers bled. She'd go to bed around 2 in the morning every night. Rose tried to get her to go earlier, but she knew that Lily needed a bit. Needed time to process the end of the relationship she thought was the one. The one that would fix what had been done to her all those years ago.

Things declined over the following month. The hospital made Lily take stress leave. She stopped eating normally, and would simply make Hunter breakfast before returning to her office to force herself into working on letters she knew wouldn't help her case. Lily kept herself distracted also by helping Rose search for apartments for when her baby came, and Gen revamp the menu for her cafe.

When the first of May came around, Lily knew she had broken herself that day she told him to get out. And now, she sat in her bed as the clock struck 3am, Joey snoring softly at the end of the bed. In her hands she gripped onto the letters he had written her, gripping them to the point she was sure they'd rip. Her tears stained them, smearing the ink as she stared at his words.

-----

"Lily please," his voice broke as he stood from the couch, walking towards the blonde, "Please don't do this."

"You made me a promise, Bucky," Lily whispered, taking a step back from the advancing man, "and I can't handle it. You know for a fact that you're not done with this life."

"I am, baby please," he whispered, halting his steps a meter or so away from her, "I'm done with it all."

"I'll have your stuff dropped off at your apartment," Lily stated, her voice shaking as she dropped her keys onto the half wall, turning her back to the Avenger and taking a few steps up the stairs, "Goodbye, Bucky."

-----

A choked sob racked through her chest as Lily balled up the paper and chucked it at the mirror across from her bed. Her eyes wandered from the paper on the floor upwards, staring at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were hollow and hair wiry. Her collarbones seemed more prominent and her chest heaved as she struggled to bring air into her lungs. On her chest still sat that damn necklace. The one she tried to take off but could never manage to. It sat against her sunken chest, shining bright against her shallow skin.

She remembered the mornings she'd wake up to him leaning over her, fingers wrapped around the silver pendent, admiring it against her supple skin of the good times. Now it just sat there like a jail sentence. Because she knew there would be no moving on from him. His touch, his smell, his words. The way he would hold her.

She longed for the feeling of his hair between her fingers. His breath against her cheek. His head ducked into her neck as she admired him as he slept peacefully at ungodly hours of the night. His smile. His eyes. The stubble on his chin.

Lily remembered the day she wished that she could sit in his lap and trim it. Months later she lived that same fantasy. Him chuckling as she scrunched her nose and intently focused on the harder to reach areas. The rumble deep in his chest vibrating through her like a warm blanket being draped onto her shoulders. How his arms draped along her thighs and fingers traced circles on her hips.

He was gone though. And Lily didn't have the strength to fight for him back.

-----

"Hey what do you want for your birthday, Lil?" Gen asked as she finished cleaning up the table from dinner, sending Hunter off to play outside with the neighbourhood kids.

"Nothing." Lily shrugged, finishing drying off a cup as she avoided her best friends pointed gaze.

"A new necklace, perhaps?" Gen tested, dancing carefully along Lily's guarded mind.

"I have a necklace." She stated simply, placing the rest of the dishes in their respective cupboards before drying her hands.

"Well your birthdays in three days and I'm not getting you nothing," Gen continued, taking a few steps closer to the blonde, "Can I at least offer to cook you dinner at the cafe?"

"Sounds good to me." Lily nodded, closing the cupboards and walking past Gen, shutting the door to her office and slumping into her desk chair.

-----

Lily stared down at the stack of letters that sat on her desk. It was May 2nd, two days from her birthday. Her birthday present to herself was something she read online. Write letters to your past love and then burn or bury them, to cut the ties. She wasn't sure if she would go through with it. She didn't want to burn the memories of him. They hurt her, but she cherished them. She never wanted to forget him, but she had convinced herself she had to in order for her to find true happiness. Or so the blog she read said.

"April 10th

It's been a week since I said goodbye to you. The words still feel foreign to me. It's weird waking up without you by my side. I can't believe I'm saying it but I miss your snoring. Miss your bedhead.

Hunter knows what happened. He's heartbroken, but I don't think he'll show it very much. Moreso for my sake than his own. I don't blame him. I'm sure he sees the same broken mother he saw all those years ago.

But this one hurts a bit more. Because you were supposed to be the one. I thought you were the one. I still think you are. And I loved you.

I love you"

She traced the tears stains that marked the paper. Her fingers grazing gently over the final three words. Three words she was too much of a coward to properly say. Instead, she made him guess them. Made him say them first in the same format. Writing. Three words she couldn't say, now permanently on paper. Lily's hands shook as she put the first page down, picking up the one just beneath it.

"April 15th,

Hunter asked me if I was okay today. The same way you used to. He put his hand on top of mine and let me stare down at my lap as I calculated my answer. His face reminds me of you. Soft and tender, but something always at work behind it. His eyes may be mine, but the thoughts behind it have become yours.

You always took the father figure role so seriously. I never understood why. I loved it, but it never truly made sense to me. He wasn't yours. But when I look at him now, I see more of him in you than I ever did Scott.

He may not have been yours through blood, but he is yours through heart. And he knows me inside and out, even when I feel like I don't know myself. My own thoughts betray me sometimes with Hunter. I feel like sometimes I say things to him because I long to talk to you.

He's your son, through and through. Even if DNA betrays that. But I took your son away from you. And I'm sorry. But I can't risk him."

Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose, as though she thought it would stop the tears. A large ball formed in Lily's throat, and she wanted to scream and let it out, but she couldn't. Not with Hunter around. Not with Gen in the other room. Not with Rose so close to her own due date. She was mere weeks away from it, and here Lily sat, wallowing in her own self pity. Laying in the mess she made herself.

She picked up the third letter.

"April 25th,

I thought it would get easier over time. That the hurt would heal itself at some point. But as I sat at my desk today, I knew it wouldn't go away. It may numb, it may become distant, but there will always be an open space where you used to be.

Rose told me that I should consider therapy, perhaps. But I'm not sure talking about the love I feel for you is possible. The sheer strength of it is something that terrifies me. I'm scared that voicing it will make it stronger.

You took over every part of me. Your smell, your words, you. Every morning I would wake up feeling happy to face another day, because you were there. Whether beside me or just in the city. You were there. And you were mine. But now, you're not. You may already be someone else's for all I know. I haven't dared ask Sam or anyone.

I don't think I'd survive hearing that.

Knowing that you're giving yourself to someone else the same way you gave yourself to me. Knowing that they return the same things I still feel for you. The same feelings that I couldn't voice to you.

But who am I to be upset? I'm the one who ended it. I'm the one who said goodbye, and turned my back without a second thought plaguing my mind until it was too late.

It's still too late."

Staring at her words, Lily slammed her hand down onto the light wood of her desk. She did this. It was her own fault that he was gone. Because when Lily asked something, he always listened. But the one time he asked her to listen to him, she threw him out. She said goodbye. She let him walk out because she was too stubborn to just listen.

Pulling the cap of her pen off, Lily pulled out a few pieces of paper. Her hand shook violently as she signed the date at the top, before pouring out everything she was always too scared to say onto the paper.

-----

May 3rd rolled around mere hours later. Lily sat in her bed once again as the clock struck 2, and she stared at herself in her mirror. Eyes swollen, glasses crooked, face fallen. Her entire body seemed to be falling at once. Her chest was fallen, her shoulders frail. Her skin seemed lifeless. She was merely existing at this point. She still was a mother, she cooked, cleaned, and talked to Hunter. But when the door closed in her room for the night, her body fell into a droop. She shuffled to her bed without bothering to worry about her makeup, if she even decided to do any recently. Nothing about Lily was herself. She had become a husk. Simply a vessel to walk her head and heart around from room to room.

She missed him so much. She wanted him back. God, Lily would do anything to have him back right now. To open her eyes and see him lying in her bed with that same lazy smirk on his face. But when she did, there was no one in her bed. Just herself.

Her fingers dialled the number before she knew exactly who she was calling. Before she realized what this could do.

"Hello?" His groggy voice whispered into the phone.

"Hi...It's Lily."

"Lily it's 2 in the morning."

"I know...I know," she whispered, biting on the tips of her nails, "I just need to know..."

"Know what?"

"Is he okay?"

Sam let out a whisper of a sigh, and she knew the answer before he even spoke again. It didn't relieve her. It hurt her more than anything. Knowing that she had caused it.

"He's a damn trainwreck, Lil," Sam answered, "He's always been the brooding type but there's something different now."

Lily placed her forehead into her hand, "Has he said anything?"

"He's lost a part of himself," Sam responded, the noise of shifting blankets echoing behind his voice, "You were something I can't even explain to him Lily. There's still a part of him with you."

She ended the call before he heard her lose it.

-----

Rose took Hunter for the day. Lily could barely move in her bed the morning after she called Sam. Her eyes felt dry and heavy. Whenever she moved, a part of her screamed out for him. She felt so empty and just so...alone. Now that he was gone. But she wanted him back so badly her throat yelled out at her to tell him.

Call him, her mind said, tell him what you're thinking.

But she couldn't.

Because she already said goodbye.

[thejosh1980]

Don't you know that you're toxic?

I was in a toxic relationship...

In fact I have been in a few... But the last one is the one I can still remember in some detail...

The first few, well they were immature drunk and disorderly scenarios. They are not important in this story, other than you should be aware I was pretty repetitive towards my approach to relationships back then.

The story I would like tell is about the 7 year old relationship that ended in March 2019.

This particular relationship had the biggest effect on me, my well being, and my happiness. And even though I married an amazing woman earlier this year, that last relationship is still a reminder of the baggage I have held onto since my first relationship.

It's time I unloaded that baggage and shed my skin.... Even if it's just a little bit... You know, small steps...

So, lets call my ex “Grumpy”...

In fact that's a name an American girlfriend of a drummer of a band we were watching called her once in Germany, literally minutes after meeting her. I should have seen that red flag even back then...

Look, Grumpy isn't a bad person, deep down I think she means well... But she just hasn't been able to get past her past... She wont let go of any stubborn insecurities, learn new coping mechanisms, and she wont forgive herself, or you for that matter... At least that's what I've experienced with her.

It's like whenever things don't go her way, whenever she's frustrated or doesn't know how to cope, she'd revert back to a 14 year old girl, which is when she had troubles with her Mum.

I mean honestly, who didn't have troubled teenage years??

I'm not saying she doesn't have a right to feel pain about some significant event or trauma, but she surely can't hold it over my head and expect me to hang around, forever...

During our relationship, I explained to her, that when I went into therapy (which at the beginning she thankfully helped me do) I had no idea what to expect. But I knew I couldn't continue the way I was and expect a happy outcome.

It took a long time, but I processed many of the issues and events of my past, which in turn helped my current situation and had a positive effect on my future. I learned new ways on how to cope with current problems, insecurities and learn to take responsibility for my actions and choices in life...

I forgave my Dad for not being a good father. I understand, he just didn't know better and chose not to learn how later in life... It's no excuse but I find some comfort in knowing I wasn't the problem. These days, I can be comfortable in his presence, no longer hoping for the Dad I've always needed, but enjoy his company for what it is...

I forgave my sister for her misgivings. She's a tough cookie, and very jealous of me. I think she's very jealous of my relationship with Mum, but my sister hasn't taken responsibility for her actions, and therefore it will be a long road before I can trust her, but I'm totally OK with that. She has her problems, and they are not mine to take responsibility for, anymore.

My grandparents on both sides were hard work over the years. I thought it was my fault too! But really it was their lack of empathy and understanding that created an atmosphere of negativity. They had every opportunity to be a good example to an impressionable young me. Luckily I learned to forgive them, even if I didn't actually say that to them while they were still alive. I forgave them and myself for contributing to the escalation, rather than finding resolution.

Grumpy knew I did this (and more) in therapy, and refused to consider it.

Now in all fairness, I originally refused to entertain the idea of counseling too, as I had a negative experience in my younger days (just like Grumpy), but when I reached my first breakdown around 2014 in a foreign country, I knew I needed help and I asked...

You know, I know she's still hurting over her past...

How can I tell?

Because it's been 18 months since I broke up with her, and she continues to create drama, instead of “adulting” and talking to me about it.

She's had every opportunity to deal with these post break up problems we all have had to go through like an adult (you know, splitting up the household belongings etc), without fail each time she has deflected, ignored, created more drama, lied or done something else that shows me, she has not recognized her part in our story.

Let's face it, it takes 2 to tango...

I've come to realize she treated me the way she did during our relationship, because she took me for granted. She thought I'd never have the courage or strength to actually leave her. I sure proved her wrong, didn't I!!!

We started our relationship drunk, and continued like that for 2 or so years. Grumpy and I could drink a lot, and did... We both were a bit rounder then too! We were never fully honest with each other or ourselves. I would say, we probably should have just been a short term fling, because we both weren't ready for long term, but we dived in anyhow...

That journey got me here, and that's totally fine. I have no regrets...

In case you didn't know, I wasn't a very strong person back then. I had little self esteem, and little self worth. So it was easy for both of us to “beat on” each other verbally and not resolve any issues. That's easy to do when someone just can't listen without demeaning you, without taking your feelings and smashing them against the wall... I was always ALWAYS in trouble. She was too sometimes back then... We both were in trouble...

As time went on with my therapy I processed a lot of things, and became ready for long term... I also knew I wanted to move back home, down under, eventually. That would be a hard decision, with or without Grumpy. I just couldn't imagine piling on more stress on top of stress with that relationship. I came to realize there was no future there unless something changed. We had to listen to each other, we had to trust each other, we had to respect each other.

I know I am not perfect, but surely if I can forgive her for things, she could step my way a little... Couldn't she? Didn't she have the power to learn to forgive? I mean really forgive someone and love them for all their faults? Didn't she have the power to grow? Unfortunately she didn't... I knew she didn't process anything because she was bringing up stuff from 2 or 3 or 6 years ago...

When I sobered up and seriously got into therapy, I had no idea what road it would take me down... But after talking about all my family issues, social anxiety issues and depression, the last thing was Grumpy. It took almost 5 years to get to the point where I acknowledged I was unhappy, I realized I didn't trust her and I couldn't see a future with her...

I just couldn't talk to her anymore. We just didn't trust each other anymore... That's the point...

The day we broke up, I had written her a letter, and I read her this letter. I read out a letter I had spent weeks writing making sure my adult words were being used (because without the letter I knew I'd revert to something less mature and less communicative). I clearly stated after trying many times, trying for years to correct our problems, I had come to realize we couldn't go forward. I decided we would break up to save each other from unnecessary pain. I couldn't see any steps going in the right direction in our relationship anymore...

I loved her, but it just wasn't working out, and didn't show any signs of improving.

Her first words were “I knew it” with tears rolling down her face...

I didn't want to do it, but I made a choice... Based on the past, for the present, to better my future.

Honestly I don't know if she wanted to recognize any of those times I tried to talk to her. She didn't want to see the signs. When she got frustrated and yelled at me, and I sat quietly listened and did my best not to raise my voice back. When I tried to talk sense to her she'd react like I was talking crazy.

Maybe she was scared? After all, change is a scary thing.

I changed a lot in those years since I started therapy and stopped drinking, always hoping Grumpy would come my way a little... For several years I was a huge contributing factor to our fights, but as time went on and I learned and grew, I started to de-escalate those fights. (Which generally made things worse!).

Apparently she didn't get the memo...

And she continues to blame me for that mistrust, because that's the way it goes when you don't take responsibility for your actions... It's always someone else's fault... The world owes me...

Even though she's been in a committed relationship since the beginning of 2020, she still hasn't let go of any anger, hurt, or resentment towards me. Her actions clearly show she hasn't processed our relationship, start, middle, or end, and would prefer to block me or stop all communication with me, before dealing with herself. She'd prefer to tell everyone else how bad I was, what I owed her, what I did to her, than think about her actions and how they affected our relationship.

It's like history repeating itself... And I am finding freedom in the fact I am no longer a character in her story.

I'm quite sure she'll keep the narrative within her circle of friends to make her look good, and me bad. But I like my narrative more (who wouldn't?), I feel we both were a mess... We were having a negative affect on each other. How or why, isn't as important as learning that communication, trust, forgiveness and respect are the things that were missing...

In fact, I think she dislikes anyone who has shown personal growth... It scares her... I think she's comfortable in her denial... She blames her Mum or her grandma... She blames me... Not once had I ever heard in all her years of coming home from work, “Oh it was me...”, “I did something wrong...” or “I messed up, I better say sorry...”

So how could I stay with someone who didn't take any responsibility?? How can I love someone who doesn't say “sorry”?

I was heart broken during the time leading up to reading Grumpy that letter...

I went back and forth in my head, could I see a future??? But in the end I couldn't... The one thing I realize, that is so important in my relationships, is good ol' communication. We lost that, when we lost the trust... It all turned toxic... Manipulative.... Twisted...

I wish her all the happiness the world throws at her.

We all deserve happiness... But Grumpy, sometimes you gotta work at it...

I could spend my time blaming her for so much of it but in the end, it was down to me. I am the one master of my fate... Just as she is... Then and now...

Thanks for reading,

Josh

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #358

“i know the pieces fit, ‘cuz i watched them fall away”

Would you ever own a Great Dane as a pet? Oh Lord, my mom wants one so bad. She looooves big dogs. I wouldn't, though. I don't want another dog, period. What was or is your favorite quality about your recent ex? Her resilience, strength, creativity, loyalty, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. lol. Have you ever witnessed a human being giving birth in real life? No, and I NEVER fucking will. What about an animal? Yeah, cats. What kind of things do you enjoy reading about on sites like Wikipedia? I sometimes do that for straightening out game plots after watching a let's play if I have remaining questions. Wikipedia tends to do well with compressing it. Which country’s cuisine that you haven’t tried, would you be interested in sampling? (e.g. Moroccan, Thai etc.) I wouldn't know because I'm not educated enough on foreign cuisines. What’s the last movie you watched on your own? The Shining, I think, forever ago. Fried, poached, boiled or scrambled eggs? Scrambled. Have you ever got into a club, whilst being underage? I've never tried. Are you happy with your relationship with God, or do you want more from it? I don't have one. Do you struggle with boredom? Very, very severely. I have absolutely awful anhedonia; I'm pretty much constantly bored. Literally. I just... find things to pass the time, even if I'm not really enjoying myself. What famous person do you wish you could be friends with? I'm going to assume here you don't mean a significant other, because uh... y'all been known lmaooo. I would really love to be friends with Gab Smolders (I know that's not her real name, just using her YT name), because we have very similar interests. As well, Suzie Hanson is a fucking SWEETHEART. I miss her channel. :( At some point I want to purchase some stuff from her store to support the darling. Man, thinking of this question, there's really a lot. What would you do if you were famous? Hate it, haha. Do you wish you hair were shorter or longer? It's at a fine length right now. What photo editing website or software do you use? Lightroom and Photoshop. What hair color looks best on you and what’s your natural color? I think my hair looked best black. It's naturally brown. What is your favorite show to watch? Meerkat Manor. It is so, so comforting to me. Are your maternal/parental instincts strong? Not with kids, oddly enough. I've only ever really encountered strong protective instincts with significant others like when they're sick or something like that. In school, do you/did you work better by yourself or in a group? I absolutely worked better alone. I hated group work. Do you know anyone who has a collection of old records? My mom did, once upon a time. I feel like I know someone who does now... but idk. Do you go on any forums often? Just RP ones. Would you ever agree to an open relationship with someone? Nnnnope. Do people always say you’re too thin? Uh, I have the opposite problem. Could you design a whole web page yourself? Not from scratch, no. I've only done so on free sites that give you the bare bones and easy editing. Have you ever cooked an entire dinner for your family? Definitely not. Do you prefer piano music or violin music? Ohhhh, both are beautiful, but I have to say violin. Who do you tend to get in fights with the most? My mom, I guess, not that we fight a lot. Are you attracted to spooky and macabre things naturally? YEP. Have you ever bobbed for apples? Were you successful? No. It's disgusting if you're going after others, and besides, I HATE water up my nose and have never quite figured out how to block it out without plugging it. Hypothetically speaking, if you had a child [too young to make their own decisions], what would you dress him/her up as for Halloween? It would depend on what their interests were. Do you intend to take your children trick-or-treating, if ever you have any? I'm not having kids, but if I did, I definitely would if they wanted to go. What is the coolest jack-o-lantern you have ever seen? Now THAT'S hard, I really don't know. What was your favorite candy to get from trick-or-treating? What about your least favorite? Reese's was my favorite, and I never liked Tootsie Rolls. Did you ever receive anything that wasn’t candy? Maybe? I feel like I have... Have you ever carved a really extensive pumpkin, or were they always simple carvings? Yes; I once carved a pumpkin with a raven design with "and quoth the raven, 'nevermore'" written into the back. The raven wasn't just a flat cut-out, but rather carved in layers so the light came through differently at certain depths. Are you more interested in cute, funny, “sexy”, or scary costumes? For myself, absolutely the scary ones. In general though, I'm not gonna BS ya, I love me some sexy costumes, haha, but also still scary and particularly gory ones. Have you ever intimidated or made another person feel legitimately threatened? If not, do you think that you could ever be seen as scary? I seriously hate admitting this, but Mom has confessed that my yelling has scared her before when scolding our former dog that I fucking hated. In what ways do you or would you need to be validated by a partner? (For example, liking your posts/talking about you on social media, or perhaps by doting on your with gifts.) I absolutely need words of affirmation. I just need to hear a lot that you do still like/love me. Also, if you're unwilling to actually act like we're a couple in front of ANYONE, like you're ashamed of me or something, byyyyeeee. Do you tend to succeed by weaning yourself off of something or by quitting cold turkey? It depends, I guess. Is there a specific type of pet breed/size/etc. that you don’t want? Why not? Any that have underlying medical issues, like pugs, spider ball pythons, Persian cats, etc. etc... It's just a moral thing; I don't want to support the deliberate continuation of poor genes in animals for human monetary gain. It's just wrong to me. Away from breeds, I also don't really want free-roaming animals after my cat passes, because I don't want to endanger the reptiles and invertebrates I want as pets in the future. Have you ever lived in a notoriously dangerous area? If not, would it bother you to do so? I grew up in one, yes. I never want to again. Has a friend’s significant other ever interfered with or damaged your friendship? What about a significant other of yours damaging a friendship? No. What, if anything, is something that you put pressure on yourself about? What do you imagine would happen if you did not live up to this expectation? Getting a job nowadays. I do NOT want to imagine what my life will be like if I never find employment. If you have been in a serious relationship, have you and your partner ever discussed lifetime plans that clashed? Did you reconcile them or did you break up? If you have not been in a relationship, what are some issues that would be deal-breakers? This hasn't happened, no. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now would you accept? Honestly, I want to try weed to see if it would help my anxiety, BUT I'm unwilling to ever smoke something, so no. Have you ever changed clothes in a vehicle? Yeah. Do you listen to country music? No. Have you ever had a boyfriend your parents didn’t like? No. Were you ever a trouble maker? Not really, no. Do you shave your legs? Hell, that's debatable by this point. I haven't since this past October, but I *would* if for whatever reason someone might see my legs. I am not overexaggerating when I say I naturally have men's legs as far as hair goes, oof. Do you have any person in your family with an addiction to beer? That's what my dad always drank when he was an alcoholic. He doesn't touch alcohol now. Have you ever gotten sloppy drunk at a party? No. Have you ever slept naked? Accidentally. Could you ever be friends with the person who hurt you most in life? I really don't think I could be. Do you actually like going to school? I never did. Have you ever really been in a “complicated relationship”? How did that work out? In your opinion, what makes a relationship “complicated”? No. I don't care enough to go into what a complicated relationship means, I think it's pretty obvious. Who was the first person you’ve ever fallen in love with? Is this a person you’re still in contact with? How do you know you’re in love with someone? Jason, and no. And you just... know. It's a wordless feeling . Have you ever successfully broken a bad habit? How about conquered a fear of something? Uhhhh I don't know, really. Well, I used to be AWFUL at picking my eyebrows, particularly when anxious, but I have gotten better at that. I still kinda do it, though. Onto the next question, I don't believe I've "conquered" a fear, but rather they just faded with time on their own. Have you ever read a whole series of books? Yeah. Are you going to walk at your graduation or just pick your diploma up? I walked. Do you own a pair of brass knuckles? No. Have you ever tried to break a Guinness World Record? No. Can you sing your ABC’s backwards? I can't. Do you like Skittles? I love Skittles. Do you know how to read music? I used to. Who would you say has made the biggest impact on your life? Really, Jason. He ultimately led to me getting proper treatment for my depression, which changed my life. I'm in no way giving him credit for it, but you get what I mean. You can only listen to THREE CDs for the rest of your life. What are they? Black Rain and Ozzmosis by Ozzy Osbourne, and uhhh... perhaps The Black Album by Metallica. Do you own any shirts that have a year on it? Yeah, but it's way too small for me now. It's from Back To The Future, when we actually reached the date in the movie. Have you ever done another person’s make-up? Ha, I gave Jason a makeover once. Honestly, do you double dip? Not if I'm sharing the dip with other people. Who were you last on an elevator with? My mom. Do you know anyone that has a black belt in karate? Not to my knowledge. How often do you wear hats? Never. Who is the youngest gay person you know? *shrug* Have you ever watched an animal being eaten by another animal? I've seen cats eat mice and stuff as a kid. What is the strangest, most “out there” thing you believe? Some people I'm sure would consider the fact I believe the government was involved in 9/11 as "out there," but when you look into it, it's far from "out there." Do you get along with people who are especially religious? Why/why not? It depends on how they act about it, not what they keep in their head. Now if they have just purely hateful beliefs that demonize another's existence, then no, we can't get along. Have you ever drawn or painted a self-portrait? Painted, yes, for an art class. Do you have any interesting pillow cases? No. Are you more afraid of spiders or bees? Bees, generally. Especially if we're talking things like wasps, who are just demon spawns. Would you rather donate time, blood, or money? That's a really hard question, but I guess time? Like I'm thinking volunteer work and stuff, or listening to and comforting someone. Can grills be sexy on a guy? They're sexy on absolutely no one. Last strong smell you can remember smelling? Ugh, gasoline. This one car in front of my mom and me smelled awful. Last healthy thing you ate? Apples. Do you know anybody who was abused? Emotionally, yes. Do your parents volunteer anywhere? No. Do you have a steering wheel cover? Mom's car doesn't. What do you think of when you see sharp knives? This is really morbid, but I will immediately envision what it would be like to be stabbed. I'm very afraid of knives. The highway and back roads take you to the same place; choose your route. The back roads, of course. And let me bring my camera.

[jawnkeets]

How are you so clever??? I’m new to your blog and I’ve been looking at your posts (not in a stalkery way but because they’re so cool) and you seem super intelligent! Like you always reference things I’ve never heard of and use fancy words and it’s just really awesome. How did you get so clever? Do you read a lot or are you just naturally clever? If it’s from reading then what books would you recommend to someone who’s interested in literature and also broadening their general knowledge? Thanks

awwww. well thanks for the lovely ask!! this is way too much detail bc i’m procrastinating work but

i read a ton as a kid, mostly horror books - i was obsessed with the supernatural, and especially vampires, and the idea of things changing into other things (in a magical way, but also stories where characters develop and end up very different, tales of betrayal etc). my favourite series when i was little was the spiderwick chronicles, followed a little later by the saga of darren shan. i didn’t read any classic literature at all though, as i’d decided i hated it for some reason. as a kid i always prided myself on my creativity/ imagination rather than my intelligence (it’s a distinction i’d always drawn and still do after a fashion), but i was and have always been obsessive, and also used to sit and play memory games for hours, too; i remember one where i’d have a list of cards and i’d put one down, say what it was, turn it over, add another one, say what the previous one and this one was, turn them over, and continue until i couldn’t remember every single card in order, and then i’d start again. i wrote a lot, especially poetry, and used a thesaurus often because i loved words. i had a very very vivid imagination and refused to live in the real world until the age of about 11 or 12. then from 14 onwards i read almost nothing (apart from like idk two of the hunger games books) until i was 17, when i finally started reading classic literature, triggered by the great gatsby, which changed my attitude to learning completely. until then i’d despised secondary school partly because of the way learning was presented (i got good grades at gcse but went through the syllabus and exams mechanically with little genuine love) and partly for… other reasons, and had almost given up on taking academics seriously. but i got very lucky and had an incredible english teacher throughout sixth form, who encouraged me to take risks and break from methodical, formulaic writing. at the end of the first essay i had to do for him i still remember that he wrote ‘literature is for you. now and always. carry on.’ at the bottom, and that changed my life. he also introduced me to philip larkin and romantic poetry outside of class. after that, i was gripped by the desire to read and discover as much about the humanities as i could, make links between works, discover new ones, recover the feeling that i was possessed by after finishing gatsby. tumblr genuinely helped with art, literature quotes, and making it all seem accessible, e.g. seeing text posts making jokes about shakespeare, keats, etc helped to demystify a bit. yes, dark academia, i’m also looking at you for making learning seem exciting, but tentatively and with narrowed eyes. general knowledge-wise, it helped me to begin to break down the barriers between ‘subjects’ at school (even if you’ve left school, it’s pretty branded into our brains); they’re sometimes very fuzzy and even arbitrary, and to separate into strictly-defined categories like this is not the only way learning can or should happen.

a work that i thoroughly recommend to everyone who asks where to start is letters to a young poet by rainer maria rilke. he relates so perfectly this idea that the first step is to let yourself be filled with how amazing and vast the world is, and how much there is to read, listen to, and see. that’s not something you can learn from reading, and it’s not something you can be taught by anyone (unless being inspired by someone counts). it’s instrumentally important because it will drive you, but i also think it’s inseparable from understanding (and to me, it is understanding, just understanding without the right words yet). this is the highlight, and it was the mantra stuck up on my wall at 17 when i decided i wanted to learn, and learn seriously:

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

i was relatively articulate before i started reading the classics/ reading widely, but not exceptionally articulate. here’s an example of two essay openings - one i wrote when i was 16, and one i wrote during my first term at university (2 years apart):

i’d say that since then my essays have probably improved by a similar proportion, as i’m as embarrassed to read the second as i was the first when i wrote the second, and the typos r annoying me (am too embarrassed to post recent writing :’( - doesn’t count if over a year and a half ago, hence posting the second :p). obviously, then, this isn’t natural intelligence (everyone has to get knowledge, big words, etc from somewhere, right?), this is natural receptivity and willingness to learn, which i genuinely believe anyone can gain at any point, coupled with A LOT of reading the opinions of others (i.e. literary criticism and theory), and reading literature from many different periods to discover how language is moulded by individual poets and by ‘eras’ more widely. but this is also synthesising everything i absorb into a personal vision (this is the hill i will die on soz i don’t think theory should be ‘objective’ like what does that even mean). you can and should put yourself into it!

in terms of what to read - if you like the rilke (really hope you do!!) then depending on what you like about it, you can search from there. try some of rilke’s poetry. or if you like that ineffable feeling it brings, try the romantics (keats’ ‘ode to a nightingale’ and blake’s songs of innocence and experience are good to start with!), or larkin’s ‘high windows’ and ‘the mower’. also try shakespeare’s hamlet, because that is INCREDIBLE (watching it is always easier, and the more shakespeare you watch/ read the easier it gets! andrew scott’s hamlet is the best imo). from there it’s a question of asking what you liked about what you just read (time period/ vibe/ themes/ subject/ style of writing) and finding things similar - often google works and i made use of it a lot to start with, tumblr too, otherwise ask people who you know (on the internet/ teachers/ friends etc). this is a personal journey, especially to begin with, i think (you have to jump in somewhere), and there’s no one who can give you a list of books to read in the order best for you, because - annoyingly, i know - that’s something it’s best if each individual works out through trial and error, and part of the fun in truth. there are western canon lists out there, e.g., which contain some fabulous works, but have very obvious problems. 

a really really rough chronological development of english lit: beowulf, any of the canterbury tales, hamlet, paradise lost, pope’s satire, romantic poetry, victorian novels (e.g. david copperfield, jane eyre), the waste land, waiting for godot (it would also help to read the iliad, the aeneid, and metamorphoses too, and as much of the bible as you can, especially genesis, exodus, isaiah, job, and the gospels, but genesis and the gospels first if ur stuck/ overwhelmed). this is the lightest of pencil sketches, but if they’re works that go some way towards defining each ‘era’ or ‘period’, then it becomes a little easier to search for works branching off from these that are influenced by or chafe against them. you can always come back to me if you’re struggling with what to look for next :+) also, i have a list of my poetry favs, if you want to check that out (it includes the stuff mentioned in the previous paragraph, as well as others).

hope this helps (?!) ❤️

[mrs-dragneel-stark-solo]

Unforseen Chasm

Part 1 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count: 2191 Warnings: Language, Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93​ what was first a simple "what if" moment turned into a two year writing session and I've never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

___________

Once in a lifetime, and sometimes not even then, people meet someone who can be described as their better half. The person who knows them better than anyone. The person who completes them. Sometimes it can be found in a lover, or a sibling, or sometimes...once in a blue moon, it can be found in just a friend -- a stranger you cross paths with one day. A stranger that eventually means more to you than anyone else in the world. 

That’s how it was for you and Shannon. 

It was freshman year of college when she walked into your life. The two of you were set together as roommates. She had a touch of pluckiness to her, drive that you’d never witnessed, intelligence that rivaled yours, and a take no shit attitude. 

Of course, she was shy at first, so were you. But within just a few minutes, you realized that you two were destined to be best friends. Her major lied in anatomical mutation and molecular engineering with a minor in foreign language. Meanwhile, you majored in physics and engineering, minoring in Norse mythology. 

Shannon definitely teased you for that. She wondered why or how you would ever need that, but your reasoning was simply that you enjoyed it. If you were going to spend thousands upon thousands studying something for a career for the rest of your life, the least you could do was study one thing that was a little different that fascinated you, even if was just for four years. 

Your areas of study may have overlapped, but your upbringing didn’t. Shannon had parents, who loved her, and according to her “sent her to a prestigious academy to refine all skills”. And you saw these skills in the way she moved, talked, carried herself, and focused her skills. She was all things a lady should be. In fact, she did so well in this so called “Red Room”, that Howard Stark (founder of Stark Industries) caught wind of her accomplishments and decided to invest further in her. He gave her a full ride scholarship to any college she wanted, to study whatever she wanted. He thought maybe, one day, she might be of use to his son Tony. 

In fact, they became good friends too. Tony and Shannon, that is. He was a few years older than her, but he helped her with her work, and became curious as to why Shannon was always hanging around his dad’s company. It didn’t take a genius to see why Shannon was selected -- she was elite, one of a kind. 

You on the other hand, you were the nerd. The little bit dorky type. All you ever really loved was science, math, technology. You were raised by foster parents, but they weren’t the greatest. They didn’t ever give you any attention past making sure the foster money cleared for you. The only person you had was Remy, another boy that lived in the foster family with you. Kids were in and out of that house for years, but you and Remy seemed to stay, that is, until you left for college. College was where you met Shannon and her family, and ever since then, Shannon’s family was now your family, making you far closer to Shannon than you’d ever been to anyone besides Remy. You went to her house for holidays, even met with Tony a handful of times. 

Once the two of you graduated college and decided on grad school, you didn’t want to separate. Four years of living together had made you two almost inseparable. Not wanting to lose each other just yet, you grabbed an apartment only thirty minutes away from your graduate school. Graduate school was surprisingly a breeze, and when you completed it, the two of you moved into a studio apartment together. 

After being best friends for nearly a decade, you got a dog together, both of you animal lovers and you thought it might add some more character to your home. And he certainly did. 

While the both of you, yes, were involved in STEM, for the most part, your paths slightly diverged.

After graduation from graduate school for both of you, Tony Stark offered a job to Shannon at his company as his assistant. She would help oversee nearly every operation, invention, gizmo, gadget. All of it, would be under her supervision. Through this, she became good friends with Dr. Bruce Banner, and Tony, being at the labs day in and day out with them. 

It was actually in those labs that her… well… accident happened. A lab malfunction caused a chemical gas to react with her molecular structure causing a strange reaction. By strange you meant, well, unusual. She developed a mutation, but not like a third eye, or another pinky. No, she gained the ability to manipulate the weather and drain people of their powers. It was the most magnificent thing to watch. She accidentally discovered her powers at home, in the kitchen, and you witnessed it, but you swore yourself to secrecy for her. You could never hurt her and betray her like that. 

Tony knew, of course, because he had to help her figure out what was wrong with her. And Bruce was an expert in lab experiments gone wrong. Between those two helping her control her powers, and your emotional support, she was just like a normal person -- until you pissed her off. 

Just another crowning jewel on an already nearly perfect woman. She was the epitome of a femme fatale -- beautiful, genius, deadly, and powerful beyond human strength. 

As for you? Your work placed you in the field. Your physics took you to some crazy locations and you picked up work wherever you could find it. You loved physics, you were good at it, damned good. But you weren’t winning Nobel prizes, you weren’t heading huge projects for Stark Industries, you weren’t getting offers from MIT for research. No, you were scrounging for contract jobs, for little pick me ups with NASA. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it, or that you were desperate for work. People knew of your work, you spoke at conferences, you were in high demand. 

But by your dumb luck, it wasn’t you that ended up with the glitz, glam, and glory that came from working for Stark. 

For the last few months you’d been in the field with Jane Foster - a highly respected physicist -- with barely any funding. The two of you could barely split the research grant you’d been given and you had to hire an intern. You were all the way out in New Mexico while Shannon was still in NYC, living the dream. You missed her like crazy, but this work you were doing was important… At least that's what you kept telling yourself…

____________

Jane and you had set up camp in Small Town, New Mexico, you’d been out here for a few weeks now. There were these strange atmospheric phenomenon that were going on that Jane felt were connected to the research the two of you were involved with. She called Dr. Selvig out to study it with you two, seeing as he was a pioneer in this field. 

Just before you all headed out to the site, you decided to give Shannon a call, a strong case of homesickness hitting you. 

You propped open your laptop and selected her contact and called. The familiar ring only went through twice before her wonderful face filled the screen. 

Y/N! Hey!” she greeted delightfully. 

“Hey!” 

She stepped away from the computer and back to her workbench in Tony’s lab -- a very familiar sight to you. 

“What’s up?” 

“Just missing you. We’re about to go study that aurora again tonight, but Selvig is here now, so it’ll be another set of eyes,” you explained. 

“Ah, yes, the light in the sky. Any headway on that?” 

“None. Hopefully he’ll have some insight because I’m growing tired of staring at clouds each night. I’m not out here to be a storm chaser…” 

“What’s this about storm chasing?” Tony suddenly said, entering your field of view. 

“Hey, Tony,” you greeted in a friendly tone. 

“Why don’t you ditch the desert and come to a real lab?” he asked as he walked backwards, looking at the camera before spinning to stand next to Shannon and work on the tool she was soldering. “You could have unlimited technology here. I could really use someone with your expertise on physics when it comes to landing gear for my suit. What do you say, Y/N? A real job, in air conditioning, not out in the dirt…?”

“Tempting,” you said with a smirk. “But I’m gonna stick to real work for now.”

“Did she just insinuate I don’t do real work?” Tony asked Shannon, pretending to be offended. She merely rolled her eyes and laughed, shaking her head. 

“You two…”  she lovingly chided. “When are you going to come home? I miss you. I need your world famous tacos.”

You laughed. “My tacos are trash and you know it.”

She returned the laugh before becoming serious again. “Seriously though. When? Things aren’t the same without you.”

You sighed, wondering the same thing. “I don’t know. I’m trying to get all this data, but since we have to wait every night… There’s no telling.” 

“Well work hard,” she requested, sadness but understanding in her voice. 

“I’m trying.”

“Seriously. Y/N, pick up the pace, I can’t take another week of this. She is killing the morale,” Tony remarked, gesturing to her with a tool. 

“Okay, Tony, for you, I’ll try,” you said with heavy sarcasm, making the two of them smile. “Oh, shit, gotta go. Time to go watch the sky give me some pretty colors.” You rolled your eyes and told them goodbye before signing off of your laptop. 

The four of you set off about twenty miles west from your little lab in the middle of town. You sat out there for several minutes, nothing happening. Selvig started to question Jane and you, and Darcy was getting restless. Jane was pleading that he just hold on a few more minutes. Finally, Darcy saw something and drew your attention to it. 

This was no subtle aurora. This was… something else. 

Jane ordered Darcy to drive, and all of you launched back into the camper full of equipment, bumping and knocking things as you went over the rough terrain of the desert. Darcy was pushing the camper to full speed, zooming towards the odd light in the sky when suddenly a funnel of light and wind swirled toward the ground. Jane was filming it all and you were taking in what you could. 

Just as you were about to go through the tornado-like event, Darcy cut away from it.

“Darcy!” you shouted, needing to get inside this event.

“I’m not dying for six college credits!” she yelled before Jane tried to take the wheel from her. 

The two of them fought over the steering wheel for a few seconds before -- THUD. You hit something… actually, you think it was someone. Darcy slammed on the brakes and all of you jumped out of the camper. 

You ran over to a man lying on the ground as Jane said, “Do me a favor and don’t be dead.”

“I think legally that was your fault!” Darcy called.

“Get the first aid kit,” you commanded as you kneeled beside him. You grabbed his wrist and felt for a pulse -- there was a strong one, good. Next you looked at his face to examine any damage -- but before you could do that, you were taken aback by his beauty. He was… handsome, very handsome. Then he opened his eyes. 

He jumped up, muttering and stumbling around. Jane noticed the markings on the ground, and you saw them too, and they should’ve been important to you, but right now all you could focus on was this stranger. 

“Hammer...Hammer!” he suddenly yelled. 

“Yeah we can tell you’re hammered, that’s pretty obvious,” Darcy noted. 

Jane began trying to note the markings on the ground, telling Erik to look at them, but he was telling her they needed to get this stranger to a hospital. Your mind wasn’t exactly focused on either thing as you watched him. There was something… familiar about him, but you were sure you’d never seen him before in your life. 

“Father! Heimdall! I know you can hear me! Open the Bifrost!” the man commanded, making your hair stand on end. 

“Bifrost,” you muttered inaudibly. You’d heard that a lot. Actually you’d heard that in Norse mythology. Clearly this man was delusional and thought he was some Viking God…

“You! What Realm is this? Alfheim? Nornheim?” the man asked of Darcy. 

“New Mexico?” 

She pulled out her taser and aimed it at him. “Darcy, no!” you demanded. 

“You dare threaten me, Thor, with so puny of a weapon?!” 

She pulled the trigger and he dropped, just as a mortal man would, making some of your suspicion (and hope) fizzle out. Of course gods weren’t real, that was just silly. 

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[iloveyouthree-thousand]

Dear Peter Parker

tagging @hailing-stars​ because you gave me the motivation to finish this story (it’s been killing me) and actually post it. Hope it doesn’t disappoint too much, love.

Peter listens to the breeze rustle past the material of his suit as he flies through the air.

He’d spent the better part of the first few weeks of being back sitting in his new apartment, occupying himself by staring at the bars at the top of his bunk bed. Counting them up and down until he couldn’t do it anymore, until they became a blurred singular mass of metal suspended above his head.

YouTube was another welcome distraction, but he could only see so many “I died, and came back to life?! *storytime*” thumbnails on his recommended feed before his throat felt like closing up again. Instagram wasn’t much better, because half of the world might’ve gone offline, but social media hadn’t quite gotten the memo.

If he thought FOMO was bad before, it turns out that scrolling through five years’ worth of memories that he’d missed out on was like taking that empty feeling and dialing it up to eleven. Some of his classmates were still sporting braces when he’d last seen them, and now they were graduating college and getting married and even having kids of their own—memories and milestones all preserved for him to gawk at like he was observing relics in a museum.

A month had passed since the Blip. The Snap. Whatever you want to call it.

It was just long enough for the Honeymoon phase to be over. The initial excitement of tearful returns had quickly become a scramble toward a new normal, into a desperate attempt to fit half of the population into a world that, even in their absence, had kept turning.

That was the worst part, Peter decided.

He’d imagined his death before—what his funeral would be like. Sometimes, when it was late and he was alone he’d sit up and wonder what his world would like without him in it.

It was a morbid thought, sure, but it had only been that. Thoughts. What-ifs.

He’d always pictured that, eventually, even the people that loved him most in this life would have to move on. He’d want them to move on.

He’d done it plenty of times himself—after his parents, after Ben. It didn’t mean he’d forgotten them, but there came a point in the grieving process where he’d realized that the sun would keep rising every morning, that he was going to keep living even if his loved ones weren’t.

It was hard, and sometimes almost impossible, but he’d done it.

So it made sense that when the circumstances were flipped and he was that was gone, the people in his life would learn to keep living without him.

But just because it made sense doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt to have to witness it first-hand.

Because this was a special form of hell most people don’t anticipate when they die: coming back. 

Death was awful and sad and downright heartbreaking, but there was a certain finality to it. A sense of closure.

He hadn’t died. He’d disappeared, and somehow that was so much worse. 

No one deserves to disappear.

No one deserves to face the reality of the world passing them by, to have to reopen wounds that have already healed, to have to shove yourself back into a script that’s already written you out.

Putting on the suit had been an impulsive decision fueled by a restlessness that he finally decided he couldn’t ignore.

The red and blue spandex felt more like home than his new apartment ever would, and Karen’s voice was a pleasant and familiar in his ear. 

If he moved fast enough, swinging aimlessly through the city, it was almost as if nothing had changed—as if he had gone back in time, to five years ago, when the biggest stressors in his life were petty thieves on the street.

He sees the Tower in the distance—Tony had bought it back, at some point, had wanted to keep some connection to the city, just in case—stretching toward the stars, and before he knows what he’s doing his body is swinging toward it, driven by sheer muscle memory.

Peter sticks to the glass easily, and he climbs, one foot after the other.

It’s just him and spandex and sky, going on and on forever.

He feels like he should stop—should head back to the apartment that isn’t a home and count the bars on his bunk bed one more time—because climbing a literal skyscraper in this scattered state of mind screams bad idea.

“Peter, a fall from this height could--,” Karen starts, but he mutes her voice before she can say any more.

It’s a dumb idea, he knows that, but something in his bones begs him to keep going. 

Maybe the world might would different from way up there. Maybe it’d finally look like home again. 

He shoots a web to the top of the tower and spares a glance down.

The city is in repair, but it’s alive. Cars honk in the streets, people push past each other on the sidewalks. It’s New York—it’s always moving, it doesn’t matter if the world ends—New York doesn’t stop and wait for anybody.

From way up here, it’s like waving through a window, watching from outside the glass, helpless, as the world passes him by.

His breath hitches.

No one deserves to disappear.

He feels the web give way, feels the lurch of his stomach before the fear gives way to... numbness. Like he can’t feel anything at all.

And then he’s falling.

///

“Peter—hey!” Ned calls, running against the grain of students milling through the hallway.

“Please don’t be mad, but I got so excited and I couldn’t help myself and you weren’t answering your phone so I started the new set without you. Don’t worry, though, because I only got, like, the right wing assembled before I realized it’s not as fun without you there and--,”

The words fly out of Ned’s mouth in a half-comprehensible flurry until he stops to stare at the new baby blue cast his best friend is sporting.

“...what happened to your arm?”

Peter looks down at his feet, a blush creeping against his skin.

“I, uh... fell off a building?”

Ned scrunches his nose and leans closer.

“Were you,” Ned glances over his shoulder and lowers his voice to a whisper, “fighting bad guys?”

Yea, Peter thinks, something like that.

“It’ll heal in a few days,” he says instead, ignoring the question entirely, “May wanted me to cast it up anyway, you know. Just in case.”

He thinks it sounds convincing, and it must be, because most of the worry drains from Ned’s face.

“Oh. Okay. I just, uh, I thought you’d call me. I’m your guy-in-the-chair, remember? I’m here for you.”

“I know,” he says, feeling a twinge of guilt rise in his chest. He means it. Ned is a better friend than Peter deserves, that much he’s sure of.

“It just happened so fast and... I didn’t want to bother you.”

Things had just started to feel normal again, after the Blip. That’s what people had started to call it—the reversal of the Snap.

Some people were having a harder time adjusting than others, but Ned seemed to be doing better than most. His family had all been snapped and brought back together. He had a thing, for lack of a better word, going on with Betty Brant. He’d fallen right back into place in this new, messy reality, and Peter didn’t want to hold him back from that.

He didn’t need to know that Peter was having a much harder time with the whole thing, that he still had nightmares about the moments before, that he felt it when every cell in his body was torn apart.

But maybe Ned does know some of that, because he thinks he sees his friend’s smile fall just a little.

“Next time?”

The question hangs in the air for a second, and Peter swallows the urge to brush it off, to refuse his best friend who, bless his soul, just wants to help.

“Of course,” Peter says weakly, but it’s enough.

“Okay,” Ned replies, a finality to his voice, and he doesn’t push any further. Seriously, bless his soul.

“Do you, uh... do you want to sign my cast?”

In an instant, his best friend’s mouth perks back up at the corners and he’s already reaching into his bag for a marker.

“Dude,” he grins, “I thought you’d never ask.”

///

“Peter, I’m about to head out, but my phone is on so if you need anything,” she pauses when she gets to his doorway.

He’s sitting on his bed, managing an awkward attempt at pulling a sweatshirt over his head with only one good arm.

The bed dips a little when she sits down next to him and gently helps him pull the fabric over the blue cast despite his meager attempt at a protest.

He can smell the perfume on her skin and he flinches when he realizes he doesn’t recognize the scent. When he’d hugged her that morning before the field trip—a month ago, for him, but a lifetime ago for her—she’d smelled like apples and jasmine and sunshine. 

She smells like vanilla and musk now, and it’s... different. Foreign. It’s just off enough to remind him that the woman in front of him, familiar as she looks, isn’t quite the same person he left behind. That thought makes him feel a little empty inside.

It’s a feeling he’s grown accustomed to in the past few days.

“Have you told Tony about that, yet?” She gestures to the injury on his arm, concern seeping through her eyes.

“No.”

May arches her eyebrow at him, silently prodding him for an explanation.

“It’ll heal by the end of the week anyway, and I don’t want to get him all worked up, especially when, you know--,” he stops short, biting his lip, “he’s still recovering. He doesn’t need—he needs to focus on himself, and he should be with Morgan and Pepper and his family right now. He doesn’t need to be worrying about me.”

The scent gets stronger the closer she gets, but he tries to ignore that when she wraps her arms around him. He clutches his fingers into the fabric of her dress and rests his head against her shoulder.

“We can’t help worrying about the people we love, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t deserve her.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, his face half-buried in her hair. She’d stopped dyeing it at some point, he notices, opting instead to let some strands of grey peek through.

She pushes against his shoulders until he’s looking straight into her eyes.

“Are you?”

He knows she’s not just talking about his arm anymore.

“Because I don’t have to do this—I can cancel right now. We can order a pizza, rent a movie. Just you and me.”

He knows what she’s really saying: we can go back to the way things were before.

“No, you should go,” he says quickly, pushing a smile onto his face, “I’ll be okay. Promise. You deserve a night out.”

May holds his gaze for a second longer, debating on if she should cancel anyway, despite his assurances.

“You promise to call if you need anything?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” she says, but it’s still hesitant. She doesn’t know how to approach anything anymore—how to piece together the new parts of her life and reconcile them with her old one. 

Because how the hell do you do this?

It’s not like there’s a road map for navigating the return of a child you thought was gone forever.

The scary truth is that she’s flying blind, making it up as she goes and praying Peter knows that even though some things have changed, he’s still the most important part of her life. No matter what.

“I larb you,” she says, and she means it. She might be stumbling through everything else—pretending to know the right things to say—but the fact that she loves him? She knows that.

“I larb you, too,” he says back, and something sad flashes in his eyes before he covers it up with a smile.

“Tell Happy I said hey.”

///

He wakes up to his phone ringing in his hand.

“Hey,” he answers, still half-asleep, expecting May’s voice on the other end.

“Hey, kid.”

Peter’s heart freezes in his chest.

“Mr. Stark?” 

“The one and only.” 

“What’re you—why are, um, what’s up?” 

“I tried calling you earlier, but you didn’t answer and I haven’t heard from you in about a week or so and May said you’ve been a little off lately so I figured,” the words tumble out of his mouth in a rush, and he takes a breath to slow himself down, “I wanted to see you.”

There’s something fragile in his voice that makes Peter want to cry, but he wills the tears back into his eyes when he hears a knock on the door.

“And I hope that’s okay,” he can hear the voice on the other side of the door and through the phone at the same time, “because I’m already here.”

The key turns in the lock and suddenly he’s staring right into Tony’s face.

He drops the phone from his ear and Tony does the same. 

“Hey.”

“H-hey.”

Tony moves first, taking a step inside and closing the door behind him. Peter’s still frozen to the spot when Tony assumes the seat next to him on the couch.

He notices the cast immediately.

“What happened to your arm?”

“Nothing,” Peter blurts, “I just... fell.”

His eyebrow quirks up.

“Are you patrolling already?”

He thinks about saying yes, because that would be easier, but something about Tony’s fingers running gently over his cast makes it impossible to lie.

“Not exactly,” he says, deciding to deflect instead. 

Tony’s gaze flickers from the blue material to Peter’s face and back again. 

“So I’ll ask again,” he says, his voice pressing and concerned all at once, “what happened to your arm, Pete?”

Peter’s eyes train on the paisley designs of the carpeted floor.

“I wasn’t patrolling. I’m not quite... I’m not ready for that, yet. I just needed a breather, you know? Because I see you guys with your new lives and I’m happy for you, I am. It’s just that sometimes this is all... it’s a lot to take in.”

Tony seems a little surprised by that, runs a hand through his graying hair.

“I didn’t think about how hard this has to be for you. I’ve been so focused on the fact that you’re here and that you’re alive... I didn’t think about the other side of it.” 

The man looks right into his eyes, and Peter’s caught off-guard by the awe that’s still there—the same awe from that moment on the battlefield, when he’d hugged him close and looked at him like the planets had all aligned.

“It’s selfish, isn’t it,” Peter asks, but it’s not really a question. He shouldn’t be feeling this way—shouldn’t be feeling this lost when people like May and Tony’s lives were flipped upside-down and had only just been righted again.

He shouldn’t be resentful of the fact that May has Happy now, or that Tony has Morgan and Pepper and his little lake house in the woods. He shouldn’t hate that the world hadn’t paused just for him, that it passed him by. This—the look on Tony’s face right now, the softness in May’s voice when she’d realized he was really back—this should be enough.

“I could never think you’re selfish, kid.”

His mind flashes back to that night—to feeling utterly insignificant as he looked down at the world from the top of the Tower.

“You would,” he argues, his voice breaking as something inside him shatters, “if you knew how I really broke my arm.”

Peter can see the exact moment the pieces click together in Tony’s brain.

“I went to the Tower, because I thought it would help me make sense of everything, but it didn’t. I felt... I felt even further away from everyone. And then I was up there and the ground was so far down and for a second it just seemed like it would be easier if I--,” he’s choking on every other word, his throat stinging on the acid rising from his stomach. 

“I didn’t fall, Mr. Stark,” he can see Tony’s Adam’s apple bob, can see the tears pricking in the man’s eyes as Peter admits to him, almost inaudibly, what he hadn’t even wanted to admit to himself, “I let go.”

The next few moments are a blur of sobs and hiccups and limbs tangled together as Tony lurches forward, almost on instinct, and holds him so tight he thinks his arm might break again.

“You should hate me,” Peter whispers, “May, too. I don’t deserve you. After everything I already put you guys through--.”

“Hey,” Tony quiets him, “nothing in this world could ever make me hate you, and I’d bet my whole life on May feeling the same way. I know it’s messy and complicated now, and I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through, but you belong here, Pete.”

Peter sniffles in response, and Tony pushes him back just enough to meet his swollen eyes.

“I wish I would’ve known how you were feeling. I wish I could just zapped the hurt away. I wish that, when we fought Thanos the first time, I could’ve saved you.” 

He takes a breath.

“I’ve come up short a billion different ways in your life. And—despite what other people may think—I’m not arrogant enough to believe that I won’t keep coming up short, kid. There’ll be moments I miss, spaces I can’t quite fill. But I’m still going to try. I’m going to sit right here when everything around you feels big and hold you until it all feels small. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to get through this together, okay?”

Peter swallows, burrows into Tony’s side.

“Okay.”

May comes shortly afterward, and Tony rubs Peter’s back while she holds his hand and listens through tears as he tells her about that night, about the night he’d felt so numb he felt like he’d needed to do something, anything to feel again. About the night he’d climbed up ninety-three stories just to dive down.

Tears and hugs and apologies are thrown through the air like confetti, all landing together in an mess of intertwined arms and blotchy faces.

“I’m sorry,” Peter says, one last time, the sound muffled by the warmth of someone’s shoulder.

“Shh,” May coos, the pads of her thumb pressed to his cheek, “we’ll make it work sweetheart, just like we always have. No requiems tonight.”

“We love you, kiddo,” Tony adds, “no matter what.”

For a second, the world falls away.

He knows that it won’t last for forever, that the same big bustling world is going to be there to greet him tomorrow, but for right now he fits perfectly in the spot between Tony and May.

For now, everything feels just a little bit smaller.

///

There’s an empty spot next to Peter when he wakes up to the sun streaming through the blinds. May’s arms are still tangled around him, which leaves...

“Right here, Pete,” Tony calls out from a chair across the room, looking like he hadn’t slept all night. A stack of papers that weren’t there before sits on the coffee table in front of him.

“My therapist had an idea,” he explains, nodding toward the pile. “I wasn’t talking to her. I didn’t... I didn’t want to face the fact that you might never come home. She thought it might be good to write letters, instead. I thought it was stupid, at first, but eventually it helped. It made me feel like, somehow, I could still talk to you. There were so many things I wanted to say, that I’d wished I’d told you sooner, and it gave me an outlet to do that. You don’t have to read them, if you don’t want to, because I’m sure most of them don’t make a whole lot of sense anyway, but if you want--,” he trails off.

Peter picks up one of the papers, hesitant.

He reads one, then two, and before long he’s almost through them all.

They all start the same way, Dear Peter Parker, and vary from there.

One of them talks about moving to the lake house.

I think you’d like it out here. It’s quiet, which is good, because sometimes I think that big brain of yours gets a little too loud. If and when you come back, there’s a room for you upstairs. I’ve even got those god-awful gaudy Yoda sheets you love so much tucked into a closet just for the occasion.

A few talk about Morgan.

I was terrified, kid, when Pep told me the news. I barely know how to take care of myself, let alone a tiny human. But Pepper’s always been my beacon of wisdom, and one day she smacked me upside the head and said that this wasn’t going to be anything new, that I’d already had years of practice. I’d never thought of it that way before—but she’s right. Of course she is. You’ve always been something like my kid, and in Pep’s words, I’ve even got the gray hairs to prove it.

The letters grow farther apart as the years go on, but the sentiment stays the same.

You haven’t been forgotten. 

Tony watches, holding his breath, as the kid tears through letter after letter. He feels like he should be embarrassed, essentially baring his soul in written format, but the way Peter stares at each page with reverence supersedes anything else.

These words were long overdue, anyway.

May has long since woken up by the time Peter grasps the last one in his hands, reading silently over his shoulder.

This one isn’t quite like the others. It’s dated for today.

Dear Peter Parker,

Today is going to be a good day and here’s why: because today you’re you and you’re here and that’s enough. Because you’re not in this alone. Because even when the dark comes crashing through, when you don’t feel strong enough, you’ve got me and May and Ned and everyone else to carry you. I know you feel lost, and a little bit broken, and that’s okay. We’re going to be here,  and we’re going to help you get back up on your feet. You’ll find your place here, kid. If there’s one thing I’m sure of more than anything else, it’s this: if you look up and look around, you will be found.  

-T.S.

There are tears pricking at his eyes when he finally looks up.

At some point, Tony has reclaimed the spot next to him, and he and May exchange turns pressing kisses to Peter’s forehead. 

“I’ve said it a million times, but I’m going to keep saying it until you believe it: you are not alone, Pete.”

You are not alone.

You belong here.

He looks outside, sees the same sun continue to rise, the same sky go on and on for forever, the same city continue to pass by, but this time it feels different. 

This time, he does believe it.

Maybe not right this second, but somehow, someday, he’ll be okay.

[leta-the-strange]

My troubled relationship with the FB community.

Okay, here goes. As ridiculous as it sounds (because in reality, it is ridiculous) I have taken a rather lengthy break from my writing – both here, on A03 and Fanfiction.net for my health. I have a few significant health problems and for as long as I can remember, writing is one of the few escapes I have – one of my true joys. Now, I’m by no means one of the ‘greats’ in any of the fandoms I’ve written in. I’m always in awe of the talent of some of the writers that I have been lucky enough to read and although I’m not at their level, I’ve been so excited to have the opportunity to have these platforms to share the stories I’ve poured my heart into and so mindblown and grateful to have people not only read them but take the time to leave feedback or thanks.

My love for Leta Lestrange began way back in the very first film when we knew very little about her. But I was starry-eyed from the get-go. A woman of colour main character? She quickly turned into my new inspiration and I was lucky enough to be one of the first Leta Lestrange-centred writers and blogs and meet some other great creatives and like-minded fans in the then tiny Leta loving community. I started developing my first multi-chapter story and (as daunting as it was considering the incredible talent in the stories I had read) started uploading the first chapters to share. A few people started reading my stories and left encouragement, advice and comments that absolutely made my day and I would feel so driven and inspired to keeping going and looked forward to spending my evenings putting together new chapters. My heart would skip each time I got an email saying that someone had left a comment, a review, kudos or notes.  

I was quite naïve in not knowing much about ‘ship’ and ‘fandom wars’ and when I found out that was a…thing, I did my best to stick to safe, neutral content, staying out of the confrontational tags, not engaging in the fandom too much – only to share things I created or liked (what all this is supposed to be about). Unfortunately, no matter how well I did that foreign, poisonous part of the fandom I was naïve enough to believe I could easily avoid by minding my business found its way into my life and quickly consumed something I loved.

PLEASE understand that this post isn’t about the characters. This is about real people. As a young girl of colour, yes there have absolutely been moments where I feel sick at some of the racist undertones in a large majority of the fandom’s depiction of Leta – I am happy to put my feelings on this in a more eloquent fashion in a separate post but again, the purpose of my first post back is about real people.

There are people in this fandom, quite a lot of people actually who all belong to one particular community, who not only are lucky enough to have the free time to create and share the things they love on the internet but also apparently have enough spare time to actively go seeking out posts, stories, works, etc that are centred on fictional characters and relationships that they don’t like (to put it lightly) for the sole purpose of abusing, bullying and degrading the creators to the delight of their followers that have little more than mic-drop gifs, ‘oh snap’s, and ‘#preach’ to contribute. 

This behaviour is disgusting, appalling, unacceptable and harmful.

And of course, not ALL people from this particular, I don’t know the word…’shipping group’ do this (so many are kind, talented and supportive) but enough have that I feel like even if I eventually came to like this pairing, I would never, ever feel safe engaging in that community myself.

I have characters I like, characters I love, ones that I am impartial to and ones I don’t like much. That’s the great thing about fictional characters. However, I have never felt the urge (or had the time or energy) to obsessively track the tags of ships and characters that I don’t like to leave hateful comments designed to make the creators feel unsafe and unwanted in a community in which they are just as entitled to be involved in than anyone else.

This obsessive, abusive behaviour destroyed my love for writing. One of the few things that drew me out of depression when I was unable to physically do much else activity-wise gave me intense anxiety and as much as I still received beautiful comments, I panicked when I received notification that someone had messaged me. 

My story has been called disgusting, dumb, awful, gross etc. I have been called deluded (apparently for not following a canon ship), a crazy dumb bitch, illiterate – just off the top of my head. I found a thread last year that encouraged people to upload new Fantastic Beasts content to A03 asap to get my story off the first page when I would upload a new chapter.  I was torn to shreds on both fanfiction websites after the second film came out and told that I hadn’t seen the movies (I had started my story well before the second film so I had to fill in the gaps which were quite a few). It seemed so pathetic and laughable at the start, I would just make sure I could monitor my reviews and would delete or not answer the abuse I received. 

Eventually though, it become too overwhelming and I found it too difficult to continue – my inspiration was gone and I was emotionally drained. A few times I actually became pale, shaky and vomited from the relentlessness of it. I tried to claw back the thrill and love writing gave me by practicing getting back on the saddle by doing prompts on Tumblr while I was in hospital battling one of my illnesses. I thought it might be nice to take requests from people – a gentle re-entry into my beloved hobby and reconnecting with other fans. I did a piece on Theseus and Leta that I had overwhelming support for. I actually cried when more than a couple people left beautiful messages in regard to my Theseus dying/Leta surviving prompt. A few people left me Newt/Leta related prompts. I got around to completing a first kiss request that earned me an anon informing me that my writing was trash, made them gag in their mouth and I should seriously reconsider inflicting my unwanted pieces on a fandom that doesn’t want them and to keep my shit out of the tag. 

I have seen blogs disappear from it and stories, posts and artwork removed. I was scrolling through Instagram and someone (quite notorious for this behaviour across all platforms) simply comment ‘ew #newtinaforever’ on a beautiful Leta fanvid that would have taken such a long time to put together. Surprisingly, the comments I got that were simply ‘ew’, ‘gross’, etc were more hurtful than the torrents of abuse sometimes. 

Just a few days ago, someone posted something absolutely non-confrontational and innocent about them personally liking Newt/Leta because they found it cute which of course opened the floodgates for abuse and I read a comment relating to people who don’t personally ship the ‘canon’ ship (this sounds so ridiculous now that I’m typing it) as deluded and needed to check into a mental ward. This is quite personal but I am someone who has an illness that is accompanied by psychotic symptoms and I have spent periods of time in a psychiatric hospital (and will likely need to during my lifetime) for my own wellbeing. I felt physically nauseous by this. I feel anxious now disclosing this as I know this will give more ammunition to the people who have not yet been blocked by me and enjoy taunting me but I want people to understand the weight of their childish, uneducated, ignorant outbursts.  

Because of my experience, PLEASE understand that when I say ‘unhinged’ I am not meaning it as a slur, it is coming from a place of serious concern. I think there are people in this fandom that are becoming quite dangerously confused between reality and fantasy. These characters ARE NOT REAL. If I can get through years of one my favourite characters being constantly hated on, written by fans as an abuser, rapist, you name it while far more ‘bad/problematic’ (white) females are adored and shipped with various characters quite harmoniously, and not resort to commenting, abusing or harassing people than you can get through your fave not being someone else’s fave. If your favourite pairing is canon, why are you so insecure about people liking other pairings? In Harry Potter, the most popular fan-favourite ships are non-canon and don’t cause any harm.

If someone writes on THEIR OWN BLOG that they personally don’t follow a certain ship, or they find a character bland or boring, or don’t agree with a casting, or don’t see chemistry between certain actors or like a pairing that differs from your own, JUST KEEP SCROLLING (and certainly don’t go on a witch-hunt by tracking down posts, blogs and stories you know you won’t like).

These are not real people. There is absolutely 0 reasons to be offended by someone saying that they find a certain character or pairing bland (which I haven’t done before). Of course you can disagree but if you are enraged, or offended, or feel inclined to personally attack or threaten A REAL PERSON over their preferences in something make-believe, than please, I implore you for your own mental wellbeing, to seriously assess if this level of emotional attachment to made-up characters is healthy.

I am planning on getting back into my story in time. I would love to get through the prompts and (nice) messages in my inbox now that I’m feeling a little more secure mentally and physically. I do thank all the beautiful people who have taken the time to request things, leave notes and such – I’m only back for them and feel confident that I can work through the toxicity and superiority complexes in this fandom with their support. I will do my best from now on to call out and check people when I see them mistreating others and to have more respect for myself and my work and not tolerate this any longer. I may respond and share some of the less pleasant messages I’ve received if I believe my responses can be helpful to others but there are some that require no response or audience.

I feel very content in the knowledge that I can see a story, visual, video, etc, involving a fandom, character or pairing that I don’t necessarily like and still appreciate the time and effort the person put in and find enjoyment in it too. If you still feel incapable of controlling yourself around people who are not a carbon copy of yourself, please just save yourself the distress by just blocking me instead of wasting valuable time and energy finding new ways to abuse me. I am not a harmful person, I am not an abusive person. I encourage you in your journey to hopefully become the same and if you need to remove yourself from temptation than I applaud that decision no matter how much I cannot personally relate. 

To anyone who has read my stories or sent me prompts, thank your for your patience and encouragement. I look forward to being able to get back into a community I have found such joy in.

[70slovergirl]

Jimmy Page Fanfic

right i have no idea what i’m doing. but i’ve had this idea running though my mind for some time now, so i thought, why the hell not. english is not my first language, so i am sorry for any discrepancies here. 

Prologue

The smoked curled, sometimes in patterns and sometimes in plain disorder, as I took another long drag of my burning cigarette. The city below was not yet awake-a clear element that came in hand with the fact that it was Friday and nobody wanted to move a hand.

“Venus,” I heard the high pitch voice of my coworker and didn’t resist rolling my eyes. Everyone knew a smoking break meant I’m-tired-of-the-bullshit break. “Mr. Callaghan wishes to see you.”

I turned around then, my hair whipping all over my face from a current of warm, summer air. It wasn’t everyday that my boss called specifically for me, considering I had only worked on Muse, one of America’s top music magazines for over three months now. My time was spent mainly serving coffee and correcting monstrous grammar errors for over the top male writers.

Speeding past the girl who had carried the message, I jogged along the office, trying to ignore the blast of music coming from each cubicle. Pop, Blues, some Foreign, each cubicle had a different genre and I smiled, knowing I belonged in the one and only Rock. I finally reached the biggest office of them all: Mr. Callaghan, Senior Editor.

I burst through the door, a smile hanging on my face until I caught the look of a familiar douche bag sitting across Mr. Callaghan: Alex, head writer of the rock column and the cause of my every headache. Ah shit.

“Alright! You called my secretary.” My mouth hanged open at Alex’s remark. I was definitely not a secretary, especially considering he had used some of my lines on his shitty column. At most I was an assistant, and a writer all on my own.

“Ms. Rayne, I’m glad you came.” I felt my grin return to my face as my boss signal me to take a seat. “I was just informing your coworker here of the latest assignment involving the magazine.” I smirked at Alex at how Mr. Callaghan remarked the word coworker. “I will need to request a number of things from both of you for this particular task.”

We both nodded excitedly, knowing very well that the fact the boss was informing us privately of the matter meant it was big.

“First of all, there will be secrecy surrounding this, the band doesn’t quite enjoy journalism. Second, I will expect the final draft on Sunday, because it will be included on this month’s edition of Muse. A race against time, will you say.” It really was, two days to write a column wasn’t nearly enough to have it perfect. “Third, Alex here will tend to any need you might have Venus, since you are handling the job.”

In that moment, I really wished I had a camera at hand, since Alex’s mouth fell open at the last remark. I felt a laugh growing in my throat, but it stopped dead in track when I realized what my boss has just told me.

What. The.

“But she’s a GIRL! An amateur! She doesn’t know a thing about rock music! You cannot possibly give her…” Alex protested before I could finish freaking the hell out, but was cut off by Mr. Callaghan, his frown deep and face serious.

“Alex, I will ask you to leave now. I must discuss the details with Ms. Rayne here.” Out of the corner of my eye I watched as Alex froze in shock, his eyes turned cold towards me. I smiled proudly back, trying to ignore the nervous churn I felt on my stomach. Suddenly, Mr. Callaghan rose behind his dark desk and accompanied my zombie coworker outside, locking the door behind him.

Holy shit. My first official assignment. Holy fucking sh….

“Now, Venus,” I snapped right back as Mr. Callaghan retook his seat, rearranging his wool jacket. “You are to leave today for L.A., considering they are starting their tour here on the west coast. You will spend Saturday creating a profile and getting all the information needed, including assisting their concert that night, so you can finish the essay on Sunday and you know, polish everything real good. Any questions?”

“Uh yeah.” My mouth was dry, and it was not because of the cigarette I had just smoked. “I mean, you haven’t told me what band it is. I listen to pretty much everything, but my specialty is rock.”

“Right. Well, you’ll do just fine Ms. Rayne, since the band in question is Led Zeppelin.”

The cavernous space was filled with my laughter, as I doubled over holding my stomach. Yeah right, Led Zeppelin. The biggest band on the world just happened to want a writer and they choose me, the rookie.

“C’mon Mr. C, Zeppelin is famous for their antagonism against rock reviewers.” I couldn’t understand how he didn’t get it, as he stared at me seriously, slightly amused. “And any case, you would never pick an amateur for a column belonging to the high leagues. I have barely written a complete essay-“

“That column on our past issue, the one on The Who, I know you did most of the work there. And it was excellent. The writing was clever, and you managed to capture their style. I’ve received nothing but good reviews on that one.” My cheeks blushed over his remarks, I thought nobody knew I had written that particular essay, after Alex had left it incomplete and with a terrible structure. “Oh yeah, and Zeppelin asked for a girl.”

My heart sank to the bottom of my wedges. Mr. Callaghan hadn’t picked me because I was talented or because my writing was good. It was because I had breast and a uterus. With all the stories of the wild parties behind their tours, I felt rage at the thought of the reason behind it.

“So, I’m bait, right?” Tears pricked at my eyes. “I am supposed to please their sexual desires, so Alex can come in and get all the right info?”

“What? No. No, Venus.” I felt some relief as Mr. Callaghan looked horrified at the idea. “Look girl, you have potential. Look at this as your big shot. If you killed this assignment, you’ll have your name on the map for interviewing the most elusive band on the planet.”

My mind ran free with the image, as I pictured myself getting offers from journals all over the country. Creem, NY Times, Rolling fucking Stone. Oh yeah, that sounds great.

“Now, there is only one thing I want to talk to you about, specifically.” My ears picked up as I bolted awake from my fantasy. Mr. C looked uncomfortable. “I’ll be direct. You are a woman. That is a disadvantage on our field of work. Females aren’t taken seriously if they aren’t writing about fashion or cooking.”

I looked at him. “Right, I kind of am aware of that.” I said, knowing very well it was a challenge I faced daily.

“Right. Okay, I’ll just say it. You can’t sleep with any members of the band, because the rock journalists will only see you as a groupie, and they will never respect you. You understand what I am saying?”

There was something clicking in my mind. Pictures passed by: Robert Plant photographed with skin tight pants, Jimmy Page doubled over his two-necked guitar, the band taking stage after a long concert drench in sweat. And then, a picture I hadn’t seen before. I saw myself lounging on an office of my own, asking for a vanilla cappuccino while having my boots stretched along a long, mahogany desk.

“All right, I get it Mr. C. I’m ready to rock and roll.”

[parkminijiminie]

You do realise at how Jm was looking at some of the better physique interviewers and talking abt Mendes happily when Jk was right there!?!?! I really think Jk deserves someone better. not someone who sees him as a "loyal subordinate" or likes him for his "mind". Jm has been so upsetting drg these interviews. Stay strong, JK! This trip will be a hard one for you.

I debated with myself whether or not I should answer this ask and to what extent as I’ve seen it going around and a lot of good bloggers have already shared their thoughts on it. But I decided that one more doesn’t hurt and repeated questions like this actually give an opportunity for the matter to be discussed from all sides. So even though I doubt you will read this, Anon, I still wanted to address it more for myself and my followers than for you. So here we go

I’ll start with a question that is bugging me quite a lot and  that I find problematic: 

Why is Jimin never enough for some people, in general and regarding Jungkook?      

When Jimin smiles a lot, you say he’s “flirting all the time” or in extreme cases that he is “a slut”. When he doesn’t smile, then “he hates America” or “hates white people”. When he shows his affection to Jungkook, posting pictures of him with special hashtags, talking about him or hugging him, you say “he is the only one who initiates things”, that JK “only tolerates him”, how “Jimin should move on”. When he is more passive and lets Jungkook be the instigator or give attention to someone else, people go “Jungkook is not special to him”, “Jimin does this to everyone”, “He is only playing with him”. Part of this fandom is never satisfied with Jimin. Either he’s giving too much or too less. Even if he just sits still and breathes people still find things to be upset about and blame him for. He just can never win. 

How can anyone even have doubts about how special Kookie is to Jimin, how adored, loved and spoiled with attention, care and affection he is by him, I will never understand. There is never an interview or a vlive nowadays where JM is not praising him; he is always the first to compliment and hype him, to push him when Kook needs it, to support him. Jungkook himself said Jimin is his biggest stimulant on and off stage. He himself specifically chose “There for you” to describe their relationship: a song about always supporting someone and them always having your back.  Are we talking about the same Jimin who didn’t leave Jungkook’s side when he almost fainted? The same person who goes most frequently to JK’s room and spends the most money on him (Jungkook’s words)? The exact same man who was ready to sleep on the floor for Kookie, who gambled his own money so that Kook doesn’t stay hungry? Do we have the same Park Jimin in mind or did some of you get confused? 

Don’t even get me started on how much compliments Jimin has said about Kookie, how much he has hugged him or touched him (on his neck, his waist, his ass, his thighs, his face etc). So much so that there are whole compilations just of him playing with Jungkook’s butt on stage at the end of DNA. JUST on stage. He is so touchy and loving with him that more often than not it looks like he can’t keep his hands to himself. I don’t know about you but it looks to me Jimin quite likes what he sees in Jungkook.

The two particular examples you give all have an explanation behind them: 

“The loyal subordinate”: a teasing comment made in the same day when coincidentally Jimin couldn’t keep his eyes off JK’s face (he scanned his features with his eyes, stopping at his lips). 

If you look for a deeper explanation other than that JM was simply joking, then here’s one for you: For YEARS Jimin was said to be chasing Jungkook around while Kook supposedly “hated him”. Of course, we know that was never the case, they were close even before debut but people even to this day like to repeat the same old story. Jimin, being the social media king he is, is of course aware of this. Do you imagine how hard it must be to give affection to someone (who you know loves you as well) and see a thousand comments about how he hates you? Do you realize how painful it could’ve been for him to see this all over the Internet even when he knows that it’s not true? 

So from time to time he likes to remind us how special he is to the Bunny, how appreciated he is and how none of the bullsh*t is true by saying things like “Jungkookie always comes to my room”, “Jungkookie only gave a present to me”, “Jungkookie bought the tickets (for the Tokyo trip)”, “He is my loyal subordinate”. He does it to show people that JK does in fact care a lot for him and that no, their affection is not one-sided. Maybe he does it because he is aware how Jungkook struggles (or struggled) with expressing feelings with words or simply because he is happy with their close relationship and wants to boast about it. But I assure you, in no way is he treating Kook like a servant. Yeah, maybe he likes being spoiled by him but I think as much as he likes receiving, Jungkook likes giving. Example: 

JM: Jungkook will pay (for his parents’ celebration) 

JK /confidently/: I CAN do it !!! 

So, I don’t think there’s any taking advantage of anyone in this relationship. Jimin babies Jungkookie a lot and in the same time he gives him a lot of privileges. So much so that JK feels they’re the same mental age and often speaks to him informally and casually. (a big thing in SK as you all know)

“The mind” comment: First to clear things up - Jimin didn’t say “he likes Jungkook for his mind” only. He was asked to name a physical feature of Kook but he chose his mind instead. 

To me this is such a precious moment actually. Jimin’s said numerous times how attractive and sexy Jungkook is and has admired his physique. A comment about his lips or smile would be nothing new to me and wouldn’t get me so excited.  Instead of just giving a generic answer about a part of his body (which we know he appreciates, given the above examples of how much and often he touches said body), Jimin complimented Jungkook’s brain, his way of thinking, (something JK himself said he loves about his own self).  Kookie, just like Jimin, is someone who is sexualised and objectified A LOT in the fandom, even in his most vulnerable times, for example when he almost fainted. He is not really known or usually praised for his mind, rather for his body and athleticism. He is often degraded to just his looks or a shipping tool. Which makes Jimin’s comment a lot more meaningful and impactful. There’s a saying that goes well with his answer: “If you want to give a good compliment, call a person who is often regarded as beautiful smart and a person who is always praised as smart beautiful”.  Or another one, that I really like and find especially fitting: “I’m in love with your universe”. 

There’s no doubt in me whatsoever that Jimin loves Jungkook’s universe. Not just his body, or his handsome face but also his talent, his goofiness, his whole self.

Finally about JM and men in America. He complimented an admittedly gorgeous singer, he found an interviewer attractive, he smiled and giggled and was amazingly charming. All behavior that is not foreign to him. Sure, you may say he is more open and expressive but assume he truly is attracted to men. He’s a celebrity and his every action is scrutinized. Idols dating always brings scandal but being a gay/bi one is a sure way to risk your career if you get exposed. If he truly is not straight, that is a big part of himself that he must protect. He might “hide” behind fan service and skin ship but he can’t really be open about his attractions considering his status and that Korea is still homophobic. Which is why his ideal type is always a girl and why Jungkook is often referred as “his brother”. The U.S.A might not be paradise but it’s a lot more accepting and open which gives him the chance to act more like he maybe wishes he could in other countries but can’t. Hence why he may seem “wilder”, “more flirty” and etc. But why are people acting like this is the first time he found someone good looking or as if he’s offering himself to sleep with these men, is beyond me. He is just being his charming and attractive self, it’s who he is but maybe in America we see him a little bit less guarded. 

What he’s done so far is not a crime or something to be concerned about even if he is romantically involved with Jungkook. In fact anyone who has ever been in a serious relationship will tell you that you don’t just stop finding people beautiful. You still have eyes, you can still admire someone and think they are hot, you can even have innocent crushes. You’d just never do anything about those things because you’re happy with what you have. You’re only admiring. I’ve had a serious boyfriend for years and I gush about Jimin to him, sometimes I even say to him “wow, what a sexy man” or “what a pretty girl” and he to me. It doesn’t faze us that the other can appreciate beauty in another person from a distance. Beauty is beauty and that’s that. Of course these are personal examples and I can’t speak for Jimin and Jungkook but I think many people who are seriously committed will agree with me on this. 

As a conclusion what I’m trying to say is that Jimin has shown plenty of times his admiration, affection and attraction to Jungkook. In fact I’ve written a whole post about this HERE.  So there is no need to exaggerate and over dramatize. And also, please stop treating PJM like he is only looking for someone to sleep with. He might be but we don’t have a way to know. From what I see he’s just being his gorgeous self and people are bound to find him attractive and fall for him. I mean, he exudes sex appeal (and many more things) naturally so that’s a given. 

To all the Jikook shippers out there reading this (very long, sorry) answer I’ll say to consider this: Jimin may smile and giggle and raise his perfect eyebrows at anyone but there’s only one Jeon Jungkook who can turn him into a shy, flustered, blushing mess with just a simple sentence and the change of his voice’s tone.

Exhibit A: “Jimin-ssi”, “Jimin-ssi”, “Jimin-ssi” 

Exhibit B: “Where do you think you’re going?” 

Exhibit C: “Jiminie-hyung was acting”

Exhibit D: “Who’s the cake for.. I want to eat it, it looks delicious” 

Exhibit E: “I can tease Jiminie hyung to no end” 

Exhibit F: “Do you hear my heart beating?” 

I can give you an example for every letter in the alphabet, both in English and in my native language. Peace 

[worldwalkernovel]

The dynamic duo: What is their favorite book/poem/song of earth? Of Alleirat? Can they sing? What are some instruments of Alleirat? What are they made of? How are they made? Are they widely available? Of earth's instruments, what is their sound similar to? Are there major festivals/holidays? Any strange ones (like the city in Spain that has an annual tomato fight)? What are Alleirai beds like (raised on four legs/futons/hammocks)? Are there sleeping bags or does everyone just suffer on the road?

Hey, y’all, sorry I just...fucking vanished there!  Real life obligations caught up with me.  Ironically this is a long term positive--I’m much more productive in writing when I have a job, because it leaves me less time to second guess myself.  Point is, I’m going to try and actually Do Things on this blog again.  Also the last one about holidays got pretty long so I put it under a cut.

What is their favorite book/poem/song of Earth?  Of Alleirat?

Oh my God, listen, I’m not gonna get to most of this question because I got overexcited, but let’s talk about these two and Earth poetry, yeah?

Crispin discovers Emily Dickinson in seventh grade English class, and the first poem of hers he ever reads is, of course, Because I could not stop for Death.  He traces his fingers over the words “Since then – ‘tis Centuries – and yet//Feels shorter than the Day//I first surmised the Horses’ Heads//Were toward Eternity –” and for some reason he can’t quite put his finger on, his throat closes up tight and his voice breaks when he’s asked to read aloud.  Some indiscernable something about her words ring in his head like English hasn’t rung in years, and he checks a collection out of the library the same day.  His favorite poem of hers is--it’s not really his favorite, but the poem of hers he knows by heart and can’t seem to peel out of the beat of his pulse is I measure every Grief I meet.  Some days he loves it, for how cleanly and purely it seems to scribe him into neat four-line stanzas.  Some days he can’t read it without crying, or throwing the book across the room.

The only Dickinson poem Brenneth likes is Tell all the Truth, and sometimes when she looks at Crispin she thinks it was written for him.

Brenneth doesn’t like poetry much, she mostly prefers songs--they’re easier to remember and she knows what to do with them, she doesn’t really know what to do with poetry (can’t sing it, doesn’t have a narrative, can’t even go see it performed) and she doesn’t like not knowing what to do with a thing.  But once she read Goblin Market, by Christina Rossetti.  She started it by accident, and there was a story, a narrative threading through the ramble, and she kept reading, and--

Brenneth has dreams for a week, dizzy uneasy dreams of Crispin biting into strange foreign fruits and letting juice as thick and red as blood stain his mouth, and of hands--his hands, strong and crackling with lightning--pressing the fruit against her mouth and saying eat, eat, and of a mouth on her jaw and neck and collarbones, drinking the juice from her skin.

What are Alleirai beds/travel beds like?

The basic structure of Alleirai beds is “four legs, some kind of pad, sheets/blanket, maybe a pillow” but there’s a lot of scope there and it’s not unheard of for people to have a different arrangement based on what they’re used to--sailors are used to hammock-style bunks on ships, travelers used to sleeping rough are most familiar with bedrolls that consist of little more than two blankets and possibly a very thin pad.  At the end of the day, though, since a large portion of the continent is arable, elevated beds have the practical advantage of being easier to keep relatively clean of dirt, water, and creepy crawlies.  As such, a cot-style arrangement is considered the bare minimum, with a base of taut cloth and no mattress at all. The rich might have a four-poster bed with a down mattress.  Most people are somewhere in the middle with plain frames and horsehair or straw ticks that get exchanged on a semi-regular basis.

Can they sing?

Yes!  Brenneth has a nice folksy low alto, it’s nothing special but she used to sing shanties and ballads while she worked in her forge, especially while she was hammering or doing anything else that required a rhythm.  Sometimes she gave people a discount on their work if they were willing to teach her a new song instead, and people made jokes about the singing smith.  Crispin has a beautiful mid-range tenor, sweet and clear as glass when he was a child and deepening to something warm and full as he got older.  He has formal voice training, which was part of his education--singing is a good way to learn to project your voice, which is a desirable trait in a hero of legend.  However, he hates to sing alone, which is where all his training lies, so he taught himself to sing harmony to Brenneth’s melodies and that’s the only way he sings anymore.

What are some instruments of Alleirat/what are they like?

They hit a lot of the same major categories as we do--they have necked and non-necked string instruments (things like guitars or fiddles and lyres or harps, respectively), drums and other percussion instruments, wind instruments.  They lack the finesse to make out modern instruments, and most wind instruments are made of wood rather than metals, whereas they have a lot more metal drums than hide-and-wood drums, so playing the drum in Alleirat is equally about knowing how to stop a sound as start it.  You know that dome-shaped hang drum thing?  Something similar to that with only a few tones (like four total) is pretty common on ships and is used to keep time for sea shanties, and more complex versions are popular during festivals, in combination with strings and singing.  Vocalists are prized in Alleirat, so wind instruments are less common than things that allow singing and playing simultaneously.

Are there major holidays/festivals?  Any weird ones?

I’d have sworn on my life I answered this already, but apparently not.  The Alleirai seasons each have a festival at the height and one at the end of the year, four religious festivals and one political.  The political festival is Unification Day, the commemoration of the unification of the continent of Alleirat and the formal truce of the lengthy wars that threatened to kill everyone on it, and takes place in the early days of summer.  How seriously and/or cheerfully people take Unification Day depends on how they’re feeling about the Unified Council at that moment, and whether or not their protectorate state is on the verge of civil war with a neighbor.  

The religious festivals are:

the Feast of the Wanderer, which takes place at midsummer and is a festival of plenty and warmth and alcohol--the Wanderer is the god of life and fire, and the festival is encouraged to embrace and embody joy and revelry.  There are also ritual fights, which are largely in fun and more like friendly bar brawls than formalized gladiator matches, and both participants are usually quite drunk.  Agreeing to be the on-call flesh workers standing ringside on the Feast makes you an obscene amount of money, but you have to be sober.  Gifts are also exchanged at this festival--material gifts, specifically.

the Lady’s Night, or the Night of Stars, which takes place at midwinter and is very much a festival of...keeping out the dark, I suppose, would be the way I’ll put it.  The festival is about remembering that We Are Alive And Life Is Short, as well as remembering the dead, with a lot of candles lit in memorial and just for light--traditionally, you stay up from dusk until dawn, and if your candles and fire go out, you’ll have bad luck all year.  There’s still drinking and feasting and general celebration, but it’s more intimate and less raucous than the Feast.  You exchange stories and sing and hold your breath whenever the flames flicker.  (Cheating with magical glowglasses is considered bad luck as well.)  There are people who learn a single story or song all year in preparation for the Night of Stars, and you display them as a gift for the people you’re celebrating with.

the Landing, the first day of the new year at mid-spring, which marks the day that tradition and lore say the gods first came to Alleirat.  It’s probably not the right day, sort of like Christmas was moved around a bunch, but no one but the very well educated or very pedantic care.  You leave offerings at the temples or shrines at dawn, and then you go out and celebrate.  All day if you can, more often just from “whenever you get off work” to “whenever you collapse.”  The large cities and sometimes smaller towns and villages hold a parade, and crown young people, a boy and a girl in their mid to late teens or early twenties, as the Lady and the Wanderer for the day.  The crowns assigned to each of the two (generally flower crowns, rather than anything valuable) is supposed to be handed around over the course of the day, as a sort of village-wide game of Tag with the crowned people as “it”, and whoever holds the crowns at sundown has the responsibility of leading the town in the service of the Landing, which is a whole thing.  It’s sort of like religious hot potato with drinking.

the Eve of Dead Gods, which is pretty much what it says on the tin.  In terms of the feel of the Eve, it’s sort of somewhere between old celebrations of Halloween and Yom Kippur, with an emphasis on considering your own actions of the past year and serious reflection, as well as a  day when...well, they’re pretty serious about the dead gods.  Gods can’t be ghosts, of course, don’t be foolish, but--but when you worship the last two of a mighty pantheon, it doesn’t hurt to do honor to those who went before.  On the Eve, you lock your doors and windows at dusk and don’t go outside again until the sun is shining, and you remember that everything dies.  Even gods.

Some people--those whose ancestors escaped the sinking of the western continent--hold a quiet holiday for the Chained Lord, the god who didn’t answer when they called for salvation and whose death throes killed thousands.  It’s a small thing of fasting and candles and salt scattered on the floor, observed by most as little more than a cursory tradition and not even a shadow of a shadow of what his festivals must have once been.

[antigonies]

Summer highlights

I haven't found the right words for a while, but I especially don’t know how to do justice to this summer. Everything seems to have happened. But if I don't  actually force myself to write something down now, I never will.

It all started still in Paris, with C and J inexplicably ignoring me whenever I mentioned planning a trip. And then the uncertainty of whether or not I would be hired to work in England again, something I had been looking forward to all year round, but I somehow decided that I would not get hung up on it, and believe that whatever happened was meant to happen.

The second day after flying home, C picks me up for lunch. Her hair is so short you can somewhat see her scalp, but she looks as lively and happy as usual. Meeting B at the restaurant, 10 minutes later, C tells us that she has been diagnosed with lymphoma. She did not tell us before because we live abroad and wanted us to see that she was ok. I manage to not cry then. But B reveals that the reason she was home early this year is that she woke up one day not remembering anything, covered in bruises; according to her roommates, she came home crying and screaming hysterically. She thinks she may have been drugged but none of us dare to talk about what we all are thinking. Heartbreak upon heartbreak. Holding my friends' hands, hugging  them, crying on the lunch table. 'We are too young to live through this, aren't we?', except no one actually says it, knowledge that tragedy has been happening to us already and will continue to happen. I want to never be away from them again. (I remember having written something about C back in January, something about how "I would not want to live in a world were she doesn't exist". Did I know, somehow? Does love do this to you, worrying always so much that you breathe your fears into life? I have long suspected that dreams, sometimes, are small windows into the future.)

Everything blurry after, hours of just sitting in J's car listening to him talk about the first boy he's ever really liked; going to a pride event (in honor of Garcia Lorca, my heart) with him and C; driving lessons, endlessly, my anxiety getting the best of me. Stopping a class just to call C to check if she needs help with her birthday party.

I'm clingier than most nights. C, tired of hugging me, points at this friend of hers, L, and says, half-jokingly: "He can cuddle with you". Fast forward an hour later and I'm grabbing him and kissing him in the dark of C’s front porch, clumsy and a little desperate. This may have nothing to you with you. I don’t even need to see you again, to be honest.

C and I dress up and surprise J at his graduation. He spots us in the crowd and just shouts "¡Cabronas!", which we take to mean, "I love you with all my heart". Taking cute pictures of C and her ex, because the love is still there, albeit a bit changed; everything transformed into something else.

Is this guy seriously texting me? Are we making conversation now? At first, I'm just being polite, but very quickly I'm laughing wholeheartedly at his jokes and sending him pictures of my favourite artwork at this exhibition from which C, B and I almost got kicked out because we were laughing too hard. Cheap food and two huge pints of cheap drinks later, all three of us are spilling secrets we never thought we'd share. Mocktails after because C is not supposed to drink, talking about everything we have survived in turning from girls into women, all the traumas we've fought and will keep fighting. You never know when one of the best nights of your life can happen. This is one of them.

The best nights of my life just keep piling onto each other, like the time C and I go to see 'Love Simon' and have only fries for dinner (just  like when we were thirteen), then singing our hearts out to Cristina Aguilera, thinking "this is the happiest I've been in months, maybe years, and also, I love you so, so much".

Purposely forgetting France, but also everyone I love there. Finding out that it is impossible to be present everywhere and for everyone. That perhaps you'll always be missing somewhere.

Telling my parents about J's new boyfriend and half-accidentally coming out as bi to them in the same breath. Getting just a surprised comment and then the insinuation that I'm just doing it to be like my friends. Being too scared, or too tired, or too indifferent to tell them my story, so there we are, after a brief moment of silence, at the sushi restaurant, middle table, arguing way too loud over something 'completely unrelated' that has obviously everything to do with It. Still feeling lighter after, somehow, not having to constantly look over my shoulder.

Talking to L about whether of not he should come out to his parents, too, him telling me about this boy he likes in his hometown, me telling him about how this girl keeps ghosting me. This is what my parents were scared of, I guess. This freedom. And this is just the midsummer. The only poems I care about are about the sun.

Sending C flowers after her last chemotherapy session, thinking the worst has passed already. She keeps getting weaker, though, her smile still on, but needing days of sleep. We've all become used to planning our weeks around her good days, that is, always after Wednesdays. When she starts coughing too much, though, she is admitted at the hospital, the same week we were all supposed to go partying again. The little room inside the patient area where her bed is smells of antimicrobial gel even, with the mask on.

When she tells me not to come visit the next day, my heart feels so heavy in my chest that I must find a way to distract myself from all this. Texting a former friend I am just getting back into contact with after two years since our falling out. "Hey, are you going to the fair? I really need to go out". Oh, L is coming too.  Only half-flirting, we share whatever drink he was having and I ask him about his crush; the reply makes me laugh because it may have been more than I bargained for. Of course, an hour later, we're making out at the Cuban bar after I just put lipstick on his ex. We didn't know how to dance when the night started, but we're getting better now, or more oblivious. He asks me to take him to the city center somewhere, just the two of us. I show him the best view of the city, we get breakfast together, I tell him about how the character I relate to the most is Sabina from The Unbearable Lightness of Being, because she always wants to flee, always looking for something somewhere else. He doesn't understand why I ask the things I'm asking, why I talk about loving my friends so much but seem to hate romance. I really don't know, man, I have a doctor's appointment. Straight from the party, I fix my smeared mascara and sit patiently in the waiting room for her to tell me about my blood. Unable to sleep, then, I think I'm experiencing my first hangover. The second night, the other guy in the group points out he's the only one there who hasn't had anything with L, so of course we all chant for them to kiss. Everyone is and is not tired. I don’t go home when he does because I want to keep dancing. No one knows where this is coming from. Not even me. I just want to forget myself a bit, I think.

I seriously don't know which day it is, at this point, or what happened before or after. J's birthday, with very inappropriate presents that we wanted to give him so badly. I keep re-writing C's poem but my handwriting is never pretty enough, never the perfect gift. I have, somehow, not argued with my parents in almost a month. I say I feel like a different person, and C acquiesces. My friends in France wonder where I am, what I have been doing.

I go online while half-asleep one night and seem to read that Marta (@tosfumarewords) is leaving tumblr, something with which I cannot deal at that point and I hope I just misread, trying to go back to sleep. Wondering how I can be so sad over losing someone I have never met in real life, but frankly I am too depressed about it to log on again and find out if it's really happening, and why.

Everyone is going back to studying, so I am alone more. I don't want to be alone. I also don't want to think about it. J takes me up to the mountain to go stargazing. I don't think I could be more in love with the night sky, or with the moment we cuddle in the backseat of his car,  telling him about how I don't want to die anymore, although maybe I would not have chosen to be born, not yet anyway. The clouds have come by now but it doesn't matter. We softly hum to the radio on our way down.

At my grandparent's village, the familiar routine of getting to know old friends again and being too afraid to ask about the war-full past marks the beginning of the end of the summer.

I've started to reread the bad literature of my teenage years over which C and I first bonded over. She is too busy to go out now, back into the hustle. I talk to B about relationships, how they seem to be in a language that is foreign and distant to me. She asks me to let her and her friend sleep at my house in Paris in November, and of course, everyone is welcome to come. The same day, L tells me he is getting tickets to come visit the city. I guess everything happens at once.

This, the first time I write anything new in months, and now it's five pages long, three hours later. I apparently don't know how to do anything in moderation. Getting ready for new farewells, again, and already, things that seemed to be over come back. Reunions on the horizon. Nothing ever leaves completely. Everything transformed into something else. Even summer, time, even me.

[kimonobeat]

aiko bon “Profile Interview” Chapter 6 (3/3)

ーWhat songs did you contribute to the CD, aiko?

aiko: 3 songs: “Ano Ko e (For Her)”, “more&more”, and “AB-Gata no Futari (Us Two Type AB People)”. “Ano Ko e” ended up being one of the B-sides to “Rosie” later on. “more&more” is also a B-side on “Sakura no Toki”, but I sang it with a completely different sort of bossa nova vibe. Then there’s “AB-Gata no Futari”, which I haven’t included on anything yet. The key of that song is super duper high for me to sing, now. “Once a week I call him out of love~ Even though I’ve never said the words ‘I like you’ out loud~ I call him~” I used falsetto to sing that entire part.

ーYou were just fine singing in that key at the time, though?

aiko: No, it was still pretty high for me even then. (smiles wryly) But singing songs in a high key gave me so much status back then. All I did was write songs in super high keys because it made me so happy to hear people go, “Wow, that’s so high! Amazing!” For example, “Aitsu wo Mukaseru Houhou” starts off with me singing on the CD, but the old version actually started with me libbing some high notesーyou know, “Yeah yeah yeah~”, that sort of thing. It was super high-pitched. I tried to sing it again for real and was like, “Huh!?” (laughs) “AB-Gata no Futari” has this nice jazzy sound to it. It’s a song about how these two people whose blood types are both AB fall in love. It only takes them 3 hours to fall in love, but half a year to express their feelings to each other. I’d love to sing this song again.

ーHow did you arrange those 3 songs? Did you form a band for it?

aiko: They were all really simple, I sang accompanied only by a piano. Like, one of my friends from music school played the piano for me, and I sang.

ーAnd then after that was your very first indies release, “astral box”, which was your first solo work.

aiko: Yes, that’s right. We recorded it in this studio in Machida named Dutch Mama. It was called Dutch Mama because it was in Machida. Get it? Dutch Mama, Machida, Dutch Mama… I-I’m sorry, that was rude. (laughs) That mini-album had 5 songs on it, including “DO YOU THINK ABOUT ME?”, “Hikari no Sasu Ashimoto (Where the Light Hits Your Feet)”, and “HOW TO LOVE”, all of which have yet to make it onto any of my major label CDs. I’ve released the other two, “Power of Love” and “Kiss de Okoshite (Wake Me with a Kiss)”. The director, Mr. Chiba, said I absolutely just had to release “DO YOU THINK ABOUT ME?” right this moment. That said, he’s said that about a lot of songs by now. It’s like, “So Chiba, when is ‘this moment’ exactly?” (laughs)

ーBut since you were writing songs constantly after your talent agency president told you to, I’m guessing it wasn’t that much of a struggle to come up with songs when he asked you to make an album?

aiko: Uhhh, I think I had about 15 at that point. I was painfully slow at writing songs back then compared to the pace I go at now, so I think that was about how many I had in stock. Of those, we chose a few and then Shimayan (Shimada Masanori) recorded the arrangement digitally on a keyboard. I think I might’ve been a little bit nasty to him when I first met him. I mean, that was pretty much the first time I ever had anyone arrange my songs, and it really surprised me when he added all of these different sounds to songs I’d based around a piano. When he asked me what I thought about the arrangement, I didn’t give him very many positive replies. “How come this sounds Chinese?” I’d say. “I don’t get what that sound’s for there.” At the time, I pretty much hated everything about it.

ーWasn’t that the height of MIDI music, though?

aiko: Yeah, but I wasn’t a huge fan of the way it sounds. I was also sick and tired of it because everything under the sun had a MIDI arrangement back then, so I was like, “Wait, MY songs are all gonna have a MIDI arrangement too!?” I had a pretty strong reaction to it. But even though I thought I hated all things MIDI, when we worked on my 2nd indies release there were other times when I thought, “Wow, I had no idea it could sound like that… Cool!” My hate for MIDI arrangements totally vanished right then and there. I still feel like I caused Shimayan a lot of trouble because I just couldn’t accept it the first time. (laughs)

ーDid recording the vocals go smoothly?

aiko: I sang them all so seriously. We recorded 3 songs a day, or something like that. Now that I think about it, it’s pretty incredible that we were able to record so many! We went at a pace of 3 songs a day, choruses and all. I sang the same song over and over and OVER again because I didn’t know I didn’t have to, like, sing the song all the way through. I was so serious about all of themー”I sang a lot today and got it recorded.” (laughs) When I listen to it now, I can’t help but be bothered by the fact that I can hear the pitch wobble here and there, and that I’m not keeping the rhythm well. I’m able to keep a rhythm and sing on pitch now, but not I wonder if I’d be able to sing so animatedly now. It’s so complicated. I feel like I’m asking for too much, you know?

ーSo how was recording as a whole?

aiko: It was fun, but definitely exhausting. You see, I was commuting from Osaka. I still had my radio jobs in Osaka so I came and went in-between. Seeing a CD come together bit by bit made me so happy, though. You know how you get a sample of the cover and such before the CD is complete? I  remember putting it in a color CD case. I put the back cover in the case and was like, “Wow, so that’s what it’s gonna look like!” That made me so happy. We did talk about that cover looking like it had blood all over it though. (smiles wryly) I also didn’t know anything about the ‘eye’ in ‘eye make-up’ at the time, so my eyebrows were bushy, I’d never worn mascara before, and I absolutely hated curling my eyelashes with an eyelash curler. ...Man am I being super harsh. (laughs)

ーYou the followed that up by releasing your 1st indies single “Hachimitsu (Honey)” roughly 5 months later, and then your 2nd indies mini-album “GIRLIE”.

aiko: Right. It all happened so fast after I released “astral box”. And I was really exhausted because I was still commuting from Osaka to Tokyo like always. Of the 5 songs on “GIRLIE”, I’ve released “Ijiwaru na Tenshi yo Sekai wo Warae! (Mean Angel, Laugh at the World!)” and “Rosie” after signing to a major label, as well as “Hachimitsu”. I still haven’t released the 2 songs “Inu ni Naru (I’ll Be a Dog)” and “Sasenaide (Don’t Make Me)” since going major, though. But man oh man, the cover for “GIRLIE”... just yikes. (laughs)

ーI don’t think it’s that bad.

aiko: I haaate it. For real, I do. It’s almost kinda funnyーlike, who is that even? My face is so chubby. (laughs) I made the pants I’m wearing in that picture myself; I cut my hair all by myself too. A friend came over to my house and gave me that bushy perm. We didn’t even use rods to curl my hair, we used pencils. That picture is just SO embarrassing…

ーDid you get the offer to debut under a major label with the movie theme song “Ashita (Tomorrow)” around the time you were working on “GIRLIE”?

aiko: I think so. We talked about it sometime in April, and then I debuted in July. I thought I would just be participating as the vocalist at first, though. I was really shocked to find out that I’d be releasing as a CD under the name ‘aiko’. For real, I was like, “...Wait, what!?” It wasn’t my songーwell, I wrote the lyrics myself, but they had a lot of requests. They said things like, “Kids are going to be listening to this” and “Don’t use difficult words, please”, which I whined about. That was the first time I’d ever listened to a composition and written lyrics for it too, since I tend to write songs starting with the lyrics first. Because of all that, I wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. In the end, I sort of just did it because the president of my talent agency said I didn’t have anything to lose by doing it. I didn’t care much  either way. To be really honest, I didn’t have a clue. I honestly had no clue whether to OK it or not…

ーSounds like you were having a hard time making a decision. It wasn’t even a song you’d composed.

aiko: Yeah, exactly. And when I went to record it, there were people chit-chatting in English to each other, talking about the equipment, and I didn’t get their Tokyo sense of humor at all. It felt like I was in a foreign country. I slept in the corner of the studio with a knitted hat pulled all the way down past my nose. (laughs) They were very painstakingly detailed about choosing which take to use for like, the chorus, so I had to sing the same parts multiple times. It left me so beat that I almost had to hold onto the music stand to stand. Part of it was because I wasn’t used to being in the studio yet, I think, but that was also a pretty demanding recording.

ーBe honest, how did you feel when “Ashita” was released?

aiko: It didn’t really sink in. It didn’t feel like I’d ‘debuted’ at all. It didn’t even feel like it was ‘my’ song. I thought it was just going to be a one-shot thing. A little after I’d made my debut, people at [Pony] Canyon were telling me all the time that they honestly didn’t know who I was. (laughs) I was still living in Osaka, and the only information they had on me was this tiny A4-size flyer. Apparently they weren’t aware I existed even after I’d debuted. The Canyon people in Tokyo of all places were saying, “aiko? What’s that? Oh, she’s debuted? Who is she?”, which meant the locals definitely didn’t know who I was. We did a campaign to help with that, but even then we only went to Okayama and Matsuyama. I went with someone from Canyon since it didn’t cost me anything, did our campaign, ate some food. And then on the way home that person said, “I need to go to another campaign event. You think you can make it home on your own?” I said yes and took a plane home by myself. (laughs)

ーThat sounds like a pretty sad story.

aiko: But then FM OSAKA worked really hard and put “Ashita” on power rotation. There was also this guy over at FM Toyama named Kawakado. He was close to someone named Komorita who promoted my song a lot, so it was played heavily there too. It sold some copies thanks to those 2 stations. It sold maybe 20k or 30k copies in Osaka and Toyama, which got the Canyon people in Tokyo to go, “Hm? What’s this all about? Who’s this aiko girl?” And then it wasn’t a one-shot thing anymore. We started talking about signing a contract. I really feel like FM OSAKA and FM Toyama putting the song on power rotation was huge for me. FM OSAKA in particular really supported me.

ーWere you still the DJ for “Count Down Kansai Top 40” at FM OSAKA when you debuted?

aiko: I was. I even said “I made my debut!” while I was on air. (laughs) The time frame was changed to Saturdays late at night from 2 AM until 5 AMーa promotion! (laughs) The show had to be put on hold every now and then to check the broadcast equipment, but since I was generating some numbers, they decided to give me a live broadcast from 2 to 5 AM on Saturdays. I started getting more and more faxes and emails.

ーSince you’d just debuted at the time, right?

aiko: Right. The radio station was really supportive. I wouldn’t be where I am today without the radio station. That’s how much they all supported me. It felt like I had a bunch of moms and dadsーit still feels that way.

ーIt still feels like you have so many people supporting you, from the radio, to your fans, and all the various members of the staff, you mean?

aiko: Mm-hm. So many people have shown me so much support.　I’m able to continue releasing CDs by… by selling a few copies here and there. I see that now.

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