#so I cranked up my music and put in about 7 hours of work | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

missdutch21md · 4 years ago

Text

Gas Station Saviors

A/N: so instead of going to therapy. I wrote this about something that happened on Halloween this year. So. There’s that. 🥴🥴 anywho please everyone stay safe in these times of plague and don’t do like these characters do only go outside if you absolutely must!

Genre: crack (?) 😜 mature 🔞

Pairing: OT7 x main character (reader)

Length: 9.1k

⚠️warnings ⚠️: mentions of loss, alcohol consumption, mentions of COVID 19 (please social distance unlike the characters in this one shot), panic attack mentions

M. L i s t | Request

It was another endless day. The fact that the calendar date was October 31st did nothing to influence my schedule into being less demanding. I sighed as I sat back at my desk, finally able to clock out for the day.

During the times of pandemic, work only got busier, which was great for my wallet, but my mind was becoming increasingly vacant as the days turned into weeks and then months. I heard the rest of my family down stairs as I sat back wondering how much longer life would continue on like this.

I watched as the time on the clock kept blinking back at me, unfeeling. [5:45 pm.]

Another sigh left my lips as I heard my grandmother calling out to my cousins to pick up after themselves. Dinner must be coming to a close, I hummed. I grabbed my headphones and my phone after slipping on a pair of sweatpants. I was used to eating on my own these days. My family never waited for me anymore.

And thank goodness I did. Coming down the stairs I saw a person I had never met before. “Oh, ____, you’re home!” my older cousin smiled. “This is my girlfriend, Sarah.”

He was smiling, nothing ever seemed to affect him, not even the pandemic. Here he was, introducing me to his new girlfriend. I smiled as my mind was shouting insults at the family that I was stuck living with. “Nice to meet you,” she moved to shake my hand but I stepped back and then her face seemed to color with understanding. I couldn't believe it, here I was, separating myself from my friends, the guy that I liked, and my dad and a whole other side of my family. But of course, social distancing didn’t apply to my cousin. He was allowed to do just about anything he wanted.

“Oh, Princess?” my mom came up behind me and steered me into the kitchen, her soft dulcet tones calming as she plated a hefty plate of food for me. Mom was always doing that, steering me away from things and situations, good and bad.

The tension I felt settled in my brow and my shoulders as I was sat down at the now empty table to eat. I fished my headphones out of my pocket along with my phone and put on a BTS music video, Dynamite, I decided, I needed something to make me smile. Just watching the seven idols always put a smile on my face. Once the song stopped playing, I sent a text to the guy I was crushing on, asking if he had plans tonight.

[6:01 PM] to: tall boi u wanna hang out—or r u busy? C:

I went back to YouTube and selected an old BTS bomb to watch while I finished eating. Walking back into the kitchen, I plated the rest of my food into a Tupperware box laughing and smiling at the seven boys that I basically grew up with.

“Plans for tonight, Princess?” my mom was all smiles as she filled her wine glass again.

I gave her a small smile, “possibly, I’ll let you know.”

“Perfect, you should put make up on if you decide to go out,” she briefly touched my cheek and floated back to the sofa to get back to her tele-novella. I sighed, she was right, it had been weeks since I felt like a person, I made my way upstairs to my room and put my music on shuffle while I got ready.

My makeup was all done, and I was picking out an outfit. I finally settled on a cropped black long sleeve sweater and striped pants that made my butt look really cute. Satisfied with my selection, I got dressed, and because I was antsy, I grabbed my keys and told my mom I was leaving.

I was bounding out the door in minutes, the sounds of screams from haunted houses were rising in the air, and there was a subtle mist that clung to the dark asphalt of the street like a thick blanket. I smiled as the scent of fog machines and the chilling sounds of haunted house albums greeted me before I placed my hand on the driver’s door handle unlocking my car and climbing in.

The long coat that I draped over my shoulders was already making me too warm as I settled into my seat and waited for the music to connect to the speakers.

My Time softly greeted my ears as I turned on my seat warmer and adjusted the air settings in my car so that I was comfortable.

I checked my phone one last time before I peeled out of my parking space and decided that a night time drive through the canyon would be very relaxing. It also took me in his direction so if he ended up wanting to meet up, I would be closer than usual.

As I turned onto the main road leading down to the canyon, my car alerted me of his text.

[7:45 PM] from: tall boi can’t im super busy

I tried to push back the disappointment that took hold of my heart. Only one year before, we had spent this exact night laughing, eating candy and watching TV in his apartment. The sting of tears threatened to escape from my lashes, but I did my best to not allow them to fall. I further resolved to drive completely through the canyon to end up in the city.

With my mind made up, I cranked up ON by BTS as it started playing through the speakers. I slowly came to a stop at the streetlight and shifted my car into sport mode. Once the light turned green, I was off merging into the next lane getting in front of the slower cars and pulled ahead.

Soon, I was curving down into the canyon, the forest coming up and creating a canopy over the road. I had always loved driving down into the canyon and now it was the route most travelled when going to visit my grandpa’s grave. A left-handed turn had me pulling into the outskirts of the city. I kept to the outskirts, not wanting to get mixed up in any traffic and then kept going north. Finally, my destination came up, In n Out. I smiled happily as I got in line.

After acquiring my sustenance, I made my way over to the nearest park to sit and enjoy my strawberry milkshake and my steaming hot French Fries. Softly, BTS was still playing through my speakers as I scrolled through my phone mindlessly. After another half hour, I got bored and decided to finally start making the long trek home.

I started up my car again and back tracked briefly to stop at a gas station to fill up my tank before getting back on the road. I killed the engine and fished out my wallet from my purse to pay for my gas. The gas station had been full of cars. A family, two couples and an elderly man. I stood with my phone and scrolled more while waiting for the tank to fill. I suddenly remembered about the trash in my car and threw it out.

Once the gas line popped, I grabbed a napkin to wipe off the gas tank on my car and removed the gas line. I turned back to the console and keyed in for it to print a receipt. At that moment I heard a shout from behind me and turned in surprise. When I turned again to watch where the scream came from, I saw a short man with a ripped tank top on. A quick glance around told me all the other cars had gone at some point. I clutched onto my phone tighter, unsure if I should really even worry.

My eyes widened in shock; I had no idea where this person came from. But I seemed to have drawn attention to myself because he changed his trajectory after our eyes met. He stumbled away a little and I let out a sigh of relief as I returned the gas line and impatiently tapped my foot, waiting for the receipt to print. There was another shout and I turned to see he was no longer making his way to the car at the air pump ahead of where I parked —where had it even come from?—he was making his way over to me and he had a sinister smile on his face. My hands started to shake, and I bared my teeth in warning.

He must have taken it as a smile because his eyes lit up in a disgusting way. My breath hitched in my throat as I saw another guy make his way over from my left. And then the car at the air pump started. The first guy waved at the car signaling for it to come closer. My hands were shaking as I hastily reached for the receipt that finally printed and then a sweet, melodic voice greeted me from behind.

“Hey Babe, still getting gas?” I turned to give the person a piece of my mind, or scream—I wasn’t sure— when I stopped and my mouth fell open slightly at the sight that greeted me.

My eyes landed on The Jeon Jungkook. “H-hi,” I stuttered. My hand was still reaching for the receipt from the console, stuck in shock. Jungkook seemed to notice and grabbed onto my wrist, my cellphone was still clutched in my grasp, to tug me gently in his direction.

The two guys that were making their way over to my car were stopped at the front by the hood, watching the scene play out. “You scared me, Kookie!” I giggled then, the adrenaline or something kicked me into gear and I grabbed onto him leaning in for support. I tried to playfully swat at his arm but couldn’t help but wonder if I was shaking too much to really sell it.

“Who are your friends?” he asked me jutting his chin at the older men.

I shook my head, “I don’t know them,” and pulled him closer and he easily stepped up to put me slightly behind him.

Suddenly, I heard the voices of other BTS members, I heard Jimin louder than the others though. “Jungkook-ah!” he called out loudly.

The two men at the hood of my car snapped their gaze in that direction when they previously seemed to be deciding whether they could take on Jungkook, but at the sound of the rest of the members, they seemed to rethink it. Jungkook called out something in Korean and the sound of footfalls was heard, once the other six made their way to where we were, the two older men backed up and got into the waiting car. After a moment, they drove off and I only calmed down once I was sure they had left. I physically sagged into Jungkook’s back and moved to lean against my car and covered my face.

The boys were all speaking so fast, I started feeling dizzy and there was a growing ringing in my ears. I slowly sank down using my car for support and didn’t even look at the 7 men stood before me. Softly, I heard a gentle voice trying to bring me back. “Are you okay?”

I blinked, when had my vision gotten so blurry? I turned to the right when there was a gentle touch to my arm. I was then greeted with Jungkook’s soft face his eyes wide with worry. Suddenly, the full implications of what just almost happened hit me like a bucket of ice-cold water and tears came.

He let out a surprised sound and the others seemed to quiet down at the sound of my cries. I covered my face again with my hands and my whole body shook. I felt a strong comforting hand on my back and running through my hair. I leaned into the touch and was glad that I was being allowed this moment to process what just happened.

After a couple of minutes, I calmed down enough to not lean on the person anymore. I moved away slightly and tried to stand up. Hands were offered to me and hands on my hips also helped steady me as I stood again.

“You’re really here?” I gasped in amazement when I took in the sight of BTS in front of me.

Namjoon laughed and Yoongi gave me a soft reassuring smile Jin and Jimin nodded. I looked to my right and saw and then finally felt Jungkook beside me. “Oh my god,” I stilled. I covered my face again, though this time, it was from embarrassment. “I look like a mess.”

Suddenly, it was like they realized that I knew who they were. “Are you ARMY?” Hoseok asked tentatively.

I nodded, “yes, I’m ARMY,” I smiled and I couldn’t suppress my happiness anymore. I was having serious emotional whiplash. “Thank you,” I told the members and then turned to Jungkook and bowed to 90 degrees. “Thank you,” I tried to bow several times and then he put his hands on my shoulders trying to stop me.

“No, no” he shook his head. “It’s okay.”

I shook my head again and then Namjoon stepped in here. “Are you feeling okay?” I felt that I was still trembling but I nodded and Namjoon seemed to read me like an open book. “We are leaving to get dinner would you please join us?”

I shook my head, as I looked at all of them. “I can't ruin your plans like that.”

“You wouldn’t ruin our plans,” it was Yoongi who spoke up then.

“What’s your name?” Jimin asked softly.

I gasped not believing I could be so rude and bowed again, “____ imnida.”

“Wooo~” it was Seokjin who gaped at me.

“I forgot all of my Korean,” I apologized blushing more.

“That’s okay, we speak English,” Hoseok smiled warmly at me.

“I know,” I blushed. “Where are you having dinner?”

“BCD, you know it?” Taehyung finally spoke up.

I nodded, “I love to eat there! Their kalbi is delicious!”

Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook all smiled and laughed at my reaction. The older men seemed surprised and glad that I was even interested.

“Can I go with you?” I blinked. Right. I had my car. I turned and smiled with a nod to Jungkook.

“If you like, I just gave to move my coat.” I smiled warmly at him.

I was making my way to the passenger door and then remembered the door was locked so I back tracked and leaned into the cab from the driver’s door to reach for my things and move them around. I scrambled around and I didn’t even think twice as I busied myself wish my task that they would be watching me. Suddenly the chatter around them got a little quiet and then stopped. I settled for draping my coat along the middle console and letting my backpack rest on the floor right in front of my seat. I made sure that it was closed properly so nothing would go rolling around.

I stood back up and turned to face the seven men that kept me sane for the last 7 years and couldn’t help but be stunned by them yet again. Yoongi and Jungkook had been watching me closely it seemed and the others had their gazed pointedly fixed somewhere else. And then I remembered I was wearing pants that made my butt look delectable. I blushed and unlocked the car doors and told them I was ready.

Jungkook nodded and moved past me and rest his hand on my hip lightly. I’d never been one to openly drool or be affected by just a man’s touch. Maybe it’s because it was Jungkook or maybe there was just something in the air because of Halloween. But I felt a warmth stir in the pit of my stomach and bit down on my lip to keep myself in check.

“D-Does anyone else w-want to come along?” I smiled flushing hot, but now, from embarrassment.

Taehyung nodded and moved to go sit behind Jungkook in the back seat and Jimin followed after. As the younger boys climbed into the car, I heard Jungkook’s sweet voice calling for me front he still open door on my side. “_____-ssi, turn car…on?”

“Oh!” I nodded and climbed into the driver’s seat pressed on the brake and held the engine start button and my car purred to life. I plugged in my phone and adjusted the volume so the music would be soft and told Jungkook he could put whatever on, when Bigbang started playing through the speakers, I skipped through a couple of songs until I came to an Ariana Grande song. I gave him a small smile and got back out of the car and the other boys in the backseat leaned forward to tell Jungkook what to play.

Jin smiled and said something in Korean that I didn’t understand and I blushed more as they all looked at me. “You know how to get there? Jin-hyung is asking,” Namjoon translated for me.

I nodded, “I go there all the time. It’s just down the street that way,” I pointed in the correct direction to emphasize my point.

Namjoon nodded, “can I come too?” Hoseok gave me a huge smile.

I nodded with a tight smile, “it might be tight,” I hedged. Hoseok didn’t seem to understand but when he looked in the rear window at how Taehyung and Jimin were commandeering most of the real estate, he sighed. And yelled at them through the window.

Jimin’s eyebrows were raised as he rolled down his window and said something in retaliation to his hyung. I smiled and giggled a little bit before turning back to Namjoon.

“I will follow your car?” I asked.

Namjoon nodded but then started shaking his hard and said “no, we will follow you.”

I nodded with sudden realization. I was driving 3 of the most famous people in the world. Of course, there was a worry that I would drive off and kidnap them. I wouldn’t ever dream of doing that, but I understood. With another nod and a command to drive safely from the hyungs, I got back into my car and settled into my seat.

I stopped short again as I reached for my seatbelt and looked into my back seat to see Jimin and Taehyung laughing about something so casual and relaxed. Like they belonged there in my car, in my life. To be fair they were part of my life. I followed their music and campaigns religiously. And consumed all the media they created, but what wasn’t normal was having the 3 super stars in my little Honda hatchback.

“Hi, ___-ah,” Jimin smiled leaning in forward.

“Hi Jimin-ie,” I giggled as a blush came over me.

“How old are you,” Jimin smiled warmly.

I giggled a little, “I’m 26.”

Taehyung and Jungkook laughed at this. “So, you’re our noona?” Jungkook confirmed. I nodded and did my best to ignore the growing flame in my stomach at the sound of Jungkook calling me noona.

There were gasps and laughs and clear teasing coming from the back seat and I couldn’t stop the smile that wanted to keep growing on my face. “Seatbelts,” I called while I clicked my own into place.

Beside me I saw Jungkook fasten his own belt and turned back to check that Taehyung and Jimin had secured their own. With a determined nod I said, “okay let’s go! BCD here we come!”

The boys joined in my cheer and I shifted into sports mode again and slowly pulled forward to wait for the hyungs to get behind us in their car.

Once the black SUV pulled up behind me, I pulled forward and settled into my seat talking as best as I could with the three men in my car. They asked silly questions like what is my favorite color and when I got my car. I answered their questions with the simplest answers that I could. I happily talked about my car telling them I bought it as a birthday present for myself.

We were only three lights away from the restaurant, what could we really talk about? Still somehow, we were all laughing and talking together. We didn’t catch the first light; we could have but I suddenly was preoccupied with making sure we made it in one piece. My anxiety was through the roof—would they tell their hyungs that I was a safe and responsible driver? While I contemplated this, Boys with fun started playing through the speakers and I turned up the volume by 1 and started singing along and dancing—somehow— forgetting that I had an audience.

Then the car was suddenly very quiet after I acted out along to Taehyung’s part in the song with J-Hope and I looked over to Jungkook with wide eyes and shock—had I really just done that? His mouth was hanging open in a teasing smile and his eyes were wide with wonder.

I gasped and said, “don’t laugh!!”

And after another beat of silence, all three erupted with laughter.

It was contagious, I couldn’t help but laugh too. The light we were stopped at changed to green and I made the left turn and quickly merged all the way to the right in preparation for the eventual right turn we would make.

The guys were all loud and laughing and making me forget the trauma that I just experienced. What would have happened if Jungkook hadn’t stepped in? I wouldn’t let myself dwell on it while I was with them. I would soak up all the love and positive energy that I could while I had them with me.

After two more lights, we were turning into the parking lot for BCD. I tried to get a close spot and parked in reverse so if we needed to leave quickly, it wouldn’t be an issue. Once I was parked, I grabbed my mask and tried to not think about the phrase printed on it. “Notice me Oppa”.

It was meant to be a cute thing to wear if I ended up with him but those plans didn’t exactly pan out and here I was shrugging on my over coat to ward off the cold. I couldn’t believe I was wearing this embarrassing mask in front of the 7 men that I looked up to most. I waited for the boys to get out of the car and then locked the doors with the press of the lock button in my handle. Jimin saw my mask and I saw it in his eyes. The teasing glint in his eyes as he regarded me. “Don’t say anything!” I giggled pointing up at him thankful the mask covered most of, what I was sure was, my red face.

“C’mon noona,” he teased lightly and the four of us made our way up to the entrance for BCD where the other members had already been ushered inside and to the back room.

When we entered the ajumma smiled and greeted us in English. Jungkook greeted her warmly in Korean and explained who we were. She nodded and called someone over to lead us into the back room. I had never been back here so I was excited to see a part of the restaurant I hadn’t before.

The hyungs and some managers were already seated and talking, ordering drinks and relaxing. When we came into the room, the guys called in greeting and I was stunned again with how handsome they all were. I was really here. Eating dinner with them. I couldn’t believe my luck.

I must have been standing for too long because Yoongi waved at me and called me over with his hand. I blinked and sauntered over and started to really question my mask choice as he leaned in to speak softly. “Hi ____-ah,” He pat on the empty seat beside him and I slowly lowered myself onto the chair after removing my coat.

I blushed and didn’t want to remove my mask because I knew I was so red underneath the blessed fabric. “Hi—Yoongi?” I hedged he nodded and blinked back at me.

“I am your oppa?” He smiled teasingly at me and pulled on my mask a little, I pulled away from him a little as my blush deepened further. I nodded and was reminded again of the flame that flared up in my belly again. Now was so not the time. “So?” He raised his eyebrows waiting for me. And then it clicked.

Was he in a power trip or something?? “H-hi Yoongi-oppa.” I winced, my voice sounded small, even to me.

He leaned in like I had seen him do at a concert I attended in 2016. At the concert he was waiting for the audience to scream for him and scream we did I reminisced on the screams and cries I had belted out for him. He was my bias at the time and I was hoping that he would be satisfied with how loud the stadium had gotten. Suddenly I was back in my seat, watching how he put a hand cupped around his ear and motioned for me to repeat it again just like that night.

By some miracle I found my voice again, pulled my mask down and spoke again. “Hi Yoongi-oppa.”

He seemed satisfied this time and leaned back in his chair to chime in on the conversation going on around us. A conversation I couldn’t really participate in since I couldn’t speak Korean and that I had completely lost due to a certain Min Yoongi distracting me. But it seemed that Jungkook was relaying to his hyungs about something that happened. I just sat silently and smiling just happy to be near them.

Namjoon seemed to notice my lack of understanding because he was leaning over explaining what was being said to me so I could feel included. I smiled and thanked him and then we started having our own conversation. I was worried that because he has such a big brain that I wouldn’t be able to have stimulating conversation for him, but he didn’t make me feel nervous or anything.

Eventually, a waiter came in with drinks and a soda was placed down in front of me. I thanked them all with nods and bows. And then a shot glass was placed in front of me. I gulped, a little nervous.

“You can drink, right?” Namjoon looked at me as he seemed to notice that I got nervous.

I smiled and gave a nervous laugh. “Yes I’m 26.” Though I didn’t voice that I get stupid when I’m drunk.

“Oh?” He smiled with interest. “I am too.”

I nodded, “yeah I know.” I blushed and hid my smile a little bit.

“When Is your birthday?” He asked.

Oh “February 21st.”

“That’s only a few days after J-Hope!” Hoseok looked over in interest at the mention of his name.

I smiled and nodded again stating again, “I know.”

When Namjoon said “you know” at the same time we both laughed together. Hoseok must have asked him what we were talking about because Namjoon was suddenly gesturing to me and Hoseok’s eyes got wide as he answered back.

He turned and looked at me and said “we have almost same birthday!”

I nodded along and smiled wider. “You’re older by a few days!”

He nodded and sat back in his seat suddenly energetic again. “Let’s be close since we are same age!”

I nodded and said, “okay.” Yoongi snorted beside me and I turned back to look at him and smile. “Neh, oppa?” I gasped suddenly and fished for my cellphone from my pocket and blushed when I felt Yoongi lean in closer to look at the purple screen and asked if I was okay.

I had made a mood-board of Jungkook my Lock Screen and had just finished customizing my Home Screen just the day before. I nodded to Yoongi in answer and pulled up messages on my phone and text my mom that I was safe and with my friends so she wouldn’t worry me and apologized for not texting sooner. Not even a minute later, she replied back thanking me for letting her know.

I smiled and let out a little sigh of relief. Yoongi had to have still been watching me because suddenly, his finger was tapping against my phone and looking at the settings I had in place. He scrolled through the photos I had cycling on screen and stopped at an edit of him from Boy with Luv. He pointed at the screen and then back at himself, that’s me.

I nodded. “You were my first bias,” I giggled.

“Who is now?” I blushed and locked the screen and illuminated it for him to see Jungkook’s face smiling up at him. Namjoon seemed to catch on our conversation at this point.

“You mean it’s not me?” He played it like he was offended and I hurriedly tried to explain.

“I love all of you. You’re all my bias and my wreckers at the same time. You’re all so talented and you’re so smart.” I suddenly realized that I was gushing about them to him and clammed up a little feeling self-conscious.

Yoongi seemed to notice and gently pat on my arm trying to be reassuring. I gave him a small smile and he said something in Korean and Namjoon translated for me. I suddenly remembered about the iOS update that happened to put a translator on my phone.

I hurriedly unlocked my phone but Facial recognition didn’t seem to work so I typed in my code. And pulled up the translator. I spoke into it, “maybe we can understand each other now.” And pressed play on the Korean side of it.

The little voice that played back made Yoongi’s eyes light up in wonder as he nodded back.

He then got his own phone out and found the translator and spoke what he said “okay, I think this can work.”

I smiled triumphantly and told Namjoon I didn’t want him to have to translate everything for me. He smiled and then relaxed back in his seat revealing Jungkook to his left. I smiled and turned back to Yoongi asking him about how he was doing. Why they were even in California.

Yoongi answered and we went back and forth like this a few times. And then a waitress stopped between us to ask for our order. Yoongi motioned for me to go first. I ordered the kalbi combo with mild spice on my tofu soup.

Yoongi snorted out a laugh again and I gasped at him waiting for him to finish ordering after me to ask him what was so funny. He explained that he laughed at how I ordered not spicy soup.

I rolled my eyes and laughed more. “I get sick if I have too much spicy food.”

He nodded and suddenly concern clouded his eyes asking if I was okay eating here.

I smiled and assured him that I’d been craving to eat here for a while now. I told him that I wanted to at least pay for my meal when I suddenly remembered that isn’t how Koreans gather. I apologized and bowed my head that I forgot.

Namjoon’s ears pricked up at my comment. “What do you mean you forgot; did you live in Korea?”

I shook my head and spoke into the translator as I answered so Yoongi wouldn’t feel left out. “I wanted to move to South Korea so I learned about the culture over there. And I learned when you go out one person pays for everybody and you take turns.”

Namjoon nodded and confirmed and Yoongi asked. “Is that not how it is here?”

I shook my head no. “Everyone pays for themselves when you go out with a group. Or if one person pays, you pay your part to that person.”

Yoongi’s jaw dropped in shock and Namjoon just nodded along. Soon after sides were laid in front of us and I looked at the fish placed in front of me. And Yoongi turned his attention to the others I was deep in thought as I watched them all dancing around and joking with each other. I wished this time together could last forever.

A wistful sigh left my lips as I had my phone facing up on the table in front of me when my phone lit up with a message from my crush.

[21:37] from tall boi: wanna meet up?

I sighed and rolled my eyes, the disappointment rolling off of me in waves seemed to alert the others.

“Yah. ____-ah!” It was Hoseok. “Why you are sad?”

“Oh,” I smiled at him. “This guy wants me to meet up with him.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Hoseok laughed.

I giggled more and shook my head no. “He’s not. Just a guy that wants to mess around.”

Namjoon blushed at that when Hoseok looked confused at my answer. I guess Namjoon explained what I said because Yoongi was suddenly upset and talking into his phone when it sounded out. “That guy sounds like an asshole block his number!”

I laughed. Actually laughed, and nodded as I opened the text and didn’t answer leaving it on read.

Jin suddenly looked over at me, “we make him jealous!”

I shook my head no. “We don’t have to do that.”

Hoseok was suddenly into it with how shy I had gotten. “Yes! Let’s do it!”

The rest of the group cheered and Jimin snatched up my phone from across the table and snapped a photo of me sitting between Yoongi and Namjoon. The two men leaned into me and put their arms around me.

I giggled and blushed even more and Taehyung hopped up from beside Jungkook and came to stand behind us, leaning down. Jin shot up out of his chair on the other side of us and shouted. “You need Jin, worldwide handsome!” And made his way over too.

I couldn’t stop laughing and Jimin kept taking photos capturing every moment. Hoseok suddenly called out to the one of the staff and asked for them to take our photo together. He was gesturing to us and the staff member nodded and took my phone from Jimin.

Suddenly I was stood up, Yoongi and Namjoon pushed our three chairs together and sat me down on their lap. Jungkook got closer, and Taehyung sat to Yoongi’s right. The three other men gathered behind us and posed. I don’t know how I didn’t notice, but they were each holding onto me somehow. I couldn’t help the smiles and the laughs that escaped me. I was actually happy.

The staff member handed my phone to me and I thanked him profusely bowing many times.

The next thing I knew, our food was coming out and our spots were rearranged so I was sitting between Jin and Jimin on the other side of the table now. Yoongi glared in our direction and Jimin childishly taunted him.

I’m watching you! It looked like Yoongi warned Jimin who bowed his head and closed his eyes with a 10000-watt smile as we sat. Finally, someone said let’s eat and we all dug into our meals. Everyone grabbed from whatever plate they wanted and ate together.

“What is your favorite BTS song?” Jimin asked me suddenly, pulling me from watching the others laugh and joke while they ate.

I laughed lightly and answered honestly. “All of them. But the first song I ever heard was Haruman.”

Jimin seemed to think back on it fondly.

“Who is your favorite?” Jin asked me.

I smiled and showed him my phone screen.

“Yah! Not worldwide handsome Jin?!” he screeched incredulously.

I smiled and giggled at his dramatics I could tell he was joking but it still made me laugh. “Oppa~~ don’t be like that.”

He’s eyes sparkled at my tone and he then continued to eat his food and joke with the other guys. And I looked on fondly.

“Jungkook is really your favorite?” Jimin asked me.

I smiled and blushed nodding and bumped my shoulder with his as I explained that they were all my favorite at one point. I just had a soft spot for the youngest of the group. Jungkook turned at the sound of his name, his eyebrows raised in question passing over me and then turning to Jimin.

“Hyung?” He called in his melodic voice.

I couldn’t get over hearing them without a filter of some sort. Be it a screen or a microphone from a concert. A girl could get used to this. Jimin spoke quickly to the maknae and the way his eyes gleamed with pride as he then smiled at me told me everything I needed to know about the exchange. He knew that he is my bias and there was so hiding it now.

I blanched a little under his intense gaze and looked down at my plate blushing when Jimin saw this he took the opportunity to tease me. Bringing it to the attention of everyone at the table. I would have been mortified but I didn’t really care. I was again just so happy to be around then to hear them. I was rubbing elbows with Mr. Worldwide Handsome over here!

Maybe I was getting overwhelmed again, but I felt a tear escape my eyes and Jin seemed to calm down and pat my back trying to comfort me.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked from my left I turned to him and I started sobbing. The guys all sprang up from their seats and tried to reassure me. I nodded and grabbed a napkin trying to dab away my tears. I had worked so hard to make my make up perfect tonight. I wasn’t going to ruin it I cursed myself internally. I curled up into myself as I tried to calm myself, patting on my shoulders in a soothing motion.

Then Jungkook was knelt in front of me. “Can I hug you?” Was falling to my ears.

I nodded and said, “yes please.” Then. I felt the world come to a standstill. I was overcome with his scent and the strength of his arms. I don’t even know why I was still crying. I hid my face in his chest and he suddenly lifted me up into his arms to move back to his seat and keep me in his lap. Jungkook kept a hand on my thigh and kept eating and offered me bites of food here and there.

After a few minutes, I calmed down enough and moved to get up off his lap. He wrapped an arm around my waist and held me in place. My chopsticks were passed over to me and I ate happily from my new seat.

“Tell me if I’m too heavy,” I told him while trying to lessen my weight on his leg. He blinked back at me in confusion so Namjoon translated since my phone was still at the other side of the table.

Jungkook smiled and puffed his chest. “I’m Strong. I can hold you noona.”

I giggled and went back to eating happily. As we all sat and ate Jungkook’s hold on me loosened but he still kept a hand on my thigh.

As we ate, the boys ordered booze and shots. Jin wanted me to drink for him so I had initially tried to deny but then I found myself with my hand on my elbow like I had learned and turned my face away to drink the shot. I had turned in Hoseok’s direction and he pretended to be offended making the guys all start laughing.

I couldn’t stop laughing with them. The next thing I knew, we were tumbling out into the cool air and it was late. Too late.

“We’re going to go keep the party going, if you want to come?” Namjoon asked as Jungkook kept a firm hold on my waist from my left. I smiled and nodded before I looked at my phone and saw the time. 11:35 and several texts from my mom asking if I was alright.

I told my mom I was okay just caught up in eating with my friends and looked up at them sadly. Well. I don’t really want to leave.

Taehyung and Jimin cheered and grabbed me into their arms and I felt the loss of Jungkook’s arm around me. And we all cheered so ready for the party to continue. Namjoon smiled and said that he’d be coming in the car with me this time. Yoongi agreed and Jimin and Taehyung pouted.

“Noona~” they pleaded I didn’t understand the rest of what they said because it was all in mostly drunk Korean.

I giggled and shook my head not understanding. Jungkook was once again pulling me into his side and I looked up at him smiling.

“You let me come, right?” Jungkook’s eyes were shining like stars.

I nodded and Taehyung and Jimin groaned. I looked back at them confused and Taehyung tried to explain. “I come too?”

I nodded, “if you want to squish between your hyungs.” Taehyung cheered and Jimin looked offended.

I giggled at their show of annoyance with each other. “Where are we going?” I asked Namjoon.

“To our hotel?” He answered.

I nodded, “okay. Let’s go!” Jungkook crowed into the night air and I joined him along with Taehyung. We raced back to the cars, Jungkook got shotgun again and we climbed into my car. I felt the purr of the engine coming alive again and smiled to myself. Or so I thought.

“You really like your car,” Yoongi gave me a gummy smile.

I nodded and looked back at him through the rear view while we waited for the younger boys to climb into the black SUV. I had the biggest smile on my face and reconnected my phone to the USB-port. A Spanish Selena song Tu Solo Tu started played and I mumbled an apology when Yoongi said to leave it on.

Maybe it was the little alcohol in my system, but I started belting out with the song, just singing my heart out as though I didn’t have an audience. Once the song changed the younger boys were ready and motioned for me to follow. I nodded and shifted into sport again, following after.

After I sang a bit more and the boys joined in, Namjoon spoke up. “Your singing is really pretty.”

I blushed and said no but he insisted so I finally let him have it. “Can I record your voice?”

I knew it was Yoongi and for some reason it made my heart flutter. So, I answered with a question of my own. “Are you serious?”

I looked back at him briefly and saw him nod in response and if I thought my face was going to break in half before, that was nothing compared to this. I nodded and enthusiastically said yes. “I would love that.”

He hummed quietly and Jungkook brought my attention back to the road when he started asking me questions about how long I’ve been in California and if I was ever going to go to South Korea.

“I’ll make it there some day,” I told him. “Maybe not for a while; I can’t speak much Korean. I want to be able to speak more.”

“What can you say?”

I laughed and said “hi my name is ____. Or I’m ____.” I thought a little harder. “Where is it?” I couldn’t stop the bubbling laughter. “I took a class years ago but I didn’t have anyone to practice with so I lost most of it.”

“We can help you practice,” Namjoon smiled warmly from the back seat.

I shook my head. “You’re already busy enough, you don’t need me wasting your time too.”

“Will you help me with English?” Jungkook queried softly from my right.

When I looked over at him, I stilled. He was looking at me from under his lashes turning the cuteness to 5 trillion. I nodded. “Of course, I would help you!”

“So, we help you too,” Yoongi smiled.

I blushed and continued to follow after the younger boys and finally after a half hour drive of singing and laughing with the guys, we were pulling off the freeway and towards their hotel. Once we finally arrived, we parked and made our way inside. Yoongi took the lead and Jungkook jumped around annoying his hyungs and making me laugh.

Namjoon and I were laughing talking about their plans while in California. I gushed about local beaches and then remembered they probably wouldn’t be able to go, first because the weather was getting colder, and two they’re celebrities.

Namjoon smiled in understanding helping me not feel bad for my inconsiderate answer. I’d had my hands up and was talking animatedly about how I haven’t really been around people because of social distancing and my frustration about my cousin still having a perfectly normal time right now.

I then paled considerably. “I hope I don’t get you guys sick.”

Yoongi had just stopped to enter a keycard into a door as I said this and he shook his head. And Namjoon looked down at me with a soft smile, “you won’t. It’s okay.”

Namjoon ushered me into the hotel room after Yoongi and Jungkook and we were greeted with the cheers of our arrival from the others.

“You made it!” Jimin and Taehyung shot up and wrapped their arms around me, tugging me around. I laughed and told them to please put me down.

Yoongi yelled out something in Korean as he was rifling through some bags. My name was somewhere in the mix there so I looked over to him. Jimin and Taehyung groaned out in response.

“Yah hyung,” and then they grumbled on before letting me go. Yoongi called me over and I dropped my bag on a chair and shrugged off my coat.

“We record?” He flashed me a gummy smile and I perked up instantly.

Hoseok groaned at the sound of Yoongi’s words but then was slightly interested once Namjoon explained Yoongi wanted to record me. “___-ah come get a drink!” Hoseok called before I made it to Yoongi.

Yoongi growled out some sort of response with a scowl and so I promised Hoseok. “After, I will.”

Yoongi was typing away and I sat beside him watching as he fiddled with settings. “Okay.” He grabbed his phone and was searching something up.

“I’m nervous,” I laughed. “What should I sing for you?”

“The same song?” He answered with a furrowed brow.

“Oh, from the car?” I asked my eyebrows raised in question. He nodded and I pulled up the lyrics on my phone to make sure I would sing it correctly.

I cleared my voice a little and then started singing, careful to make sure I put as much effort into the quality of the sound and making sure the pitch was right too. I sang through the whole song once doing my best to not notice the way the others slowly stopped having conversations to listen to me singing. I made the mistake of looking up from my phone at one point and met eyes with Jungkook and nearly stopped singing.

I looked over at Yoongi sitting beside me and his eyes were already trained on me so intently I started blushing and nearly fumbled the last few words of the song.

Namjoon came over and started asking about the song and about what it meant. I explained it’s about lovers and the woman singing about how she’s getting drunk and can’t get over the person.

After a while longer, we were all singing and dancing together. I sat down after a while and lazily sipped at the beer that they had given me. I started feeling myself get tired. Once I let my body relax, I grabbed my phone off the coffee table and gasped at the time. It was 3 AM.

“Holy shit,” I laughed. Namjoon plopped down next to me and asked what happened. I showed him the time and he was equally surprised.

Yoongi sat to my left and had his eyebrows raised in question. I showed him the time and explained, “It’s late. I should probably go home.”

“No~,” I heard the drawn-out call at my words from Jin as he sat on the chair beside the sofa I was resting on.

“Jin hyung, you’re drunk,” Taehyung laughed at the oldest member.

Jungkook tumbled over to where we sat and landed at my feet, laying his head in my lap. Maybe it’s because I was drunk or because I knew I would have to leave them, whatever it was had me reaching out to touch him. It made me card my fingers through his pillowy soft hair and run my hands across his shoulders giving him a light massage.

He hummed and I could feel it through his back and I marveled at him and the way he was built so strong. It made me miss his strong arms around my waist like they were only hours before. Jungkook relaxed into my touch and leaned his back against my knees. I hummed quietly and eventually got too tired. I pat on his shoulder affectionately and gave him a brief squeeze before sitting back all the way in my spot and resting my head against the back of the sofa.

“You’re tired,” Yoongi commented.

“Neh oppa,” I smiled up at him.

“Stay here and rest,” Jungkook said.

I shook my head, “I should go home.”

“You’ve been drinking,” Taehyung pointed out remembering my earlier comment of not wanting to drink and drive.

I frowned. I had been drinking and quite a lot of the bottles laying around were anything to go by. I hummed in response, not able to add much to the conversation.

“Stay,” came Jungkook’s dulcet tones again.

Yoongi put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close. Jimin sauntered over and sat down beside Jungkook leaning against him on the floor.

“No one wants to cuddle with me?!” Jin screeched clearly joking but still trying to get someone to going join him. Namjoon let out a heavy sigh and went to sit in Jin’s lap. I chuckled softly and watched as they all talked with each other. Hoseok finally flopped down onto the mattress and scrolled through his phone.

I blinked and tried to hold back a yawn while Yoongi got comfortable in his spot and Taehyung sat beside us. “Are you staying noona?” I heard someone call as my eyelids were harder and harder to keep open. Yoongi had started humming a soft tune. I vaguely recognized it as Seesaw and hummed in response again.

Hoseok was up again because I heard him walking around. Someone removed the beer bottle that was in my hand and then I was being lifted up. I opened my eyes briefly as much as I could and heard Jin say something in Korean. I was too tired to really ask, Namjoon called out to whoever was carrying me and I heard a chest rumble in response.

The soft quality reminded me of Jungkook but I wasn’t sure. I blinked up blearily at the person holding me and was met with Jungkook’s sharp jawline. I sighed and snuggled closer into him; I briefly noticed his grip tightening on me slightly.

“Just rest noona,” he hummed the smell of his breath and alcohol washed over me. Jin called back for Jungkook from down the hallway. I also heard Yoongi too but couldn’t be bothered to really try to pay attention.

When I finally managed to open my eyes again, I was looking at Taehyung’s back as he opened the door to another room. I tried my best to ask in Korean, “Where are we?”

Jungkook and Taehyung both cooed at me seemingly praising me based on their tone. I hummed happily once I was deposited onto a cool and soft surface. Someone removed my shoes. I felt hands on my waist and the zipper for my pants coming down.

“What are you doing?” I huffed in annoyance.

I didn’t hear a response. Just felt my pants being pulled down and quickly a silky soft material was being pushed up my legs. I forced my eyes open and laughed when I saw Jungkook and Taehyung trying to get a pair of basketball shorts on me. I helped them and raised my hips. I heard them huff a “thank you noona” in Korean.

I heard fabric rustling and sighs and they were chatting about the day. I couldn’t quite catch everything. I briefly heard my phone going off in the background and one of them handed my phone to me. I opened my eyes and saw it was a text from my mom.

[4:02 AM] from Mom: are you coming home?

I answered back. [4:05 AM] to Mom: nope still out with my friends. I’m not coming home tonight.

Her response was immediate. [4:05 AM] OK you need to stay safe.

I sighed and turned off my phone. And flung it to the end of the bed. I heard laughs and snickers in response to my attitude. I grumbled out, “Kookie~”

“Neh, noona.”

I heard the smile in his laugh. “Cuddles…” I racked my brain, trying to remember the phrase in Korean, “hold me tight.”

I heard Taehyung right behind me then. His chuckle was right in my ear as he cooed at me for speaking Korean again. I shivered and settled under the covers comfortably as he had pulled them back. Finally, Jungkook came into bed too and I sighed happily when he pulled me to rest on his chest.

Taehyung draped himself across my back and held onto my waist. I fell asleep quickly after that, praying that the last 12 hours had not been a dream.

A/N: This probably won’t have a second part-- hence calling it a one shot. anywho;; I’m safe, nothing eneded up happening that night because a higher power was looking out for me that night-- so enjoy this crack piece and talk to me or something or i’ll just go off into the void and not do anything else but edit the next chapter in Music of the Night.. so i’m off to do that!

Master L i s t | Request

#bts #btsxreader #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #ot7xreader #oneshot #one shot #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #park jimin #jung hoseok #min yoongi #jeon jungkook

67 notes · View notes

adultswim2021 · 3 years ago

Text

Ephemera Week (2002)

It’s still ephemera week, and we’re still talking about John K. I said most of my piece on him in the last post, so don’t expect there to go full bore on this one, except I forgot to say he’s animation’s Jerry Lewis. His current stuff is basically Hardly Working. I will not elaborate, because I’m being mean to you0.

MARCH SPECIALS!

In March, Adult Swim advertised a run of one-off specials. A couple of them were already covered because they fell under the parameters of “Adult Swim original production”. They were Welcome to Eltingville (March 3rd) and Saddle Rash (March 24th).

Day in the Life of Ranger Smith | March 10th 2002 - 11:00 PM (Originally aired on Cartoon Network in 1999)

This was one of two specials commissioned by Cartoon Network re-imagining Yogi Bear. The artist what took this assignment was John K, who I REEEAALLY skewered in last night’s post, didn’t I?

This is about Ranger Smith harassing animals and writing them up for violating park rules, basically. It’s short! I remember liking it at the time! Okay, maybe I’m going crazy here, but I distinctly remembered a part at the end where Ranger Smith is in bed and he solemnly confides in the viewer that the noises of wilderness give him nightmares and then it just ends. Did I imagine this? It does end with him in bed, but this doesn’t happen in the version on YouTube (which is from the Adult Swim airing). Huh.

Boo Boo Runs Wild | March 10th 2002 - 11:15PM (Originally aired on Cartoon Network in 1999)

Boo Boo Runs Wild was another one of these stand-alone Yogi Bear John K specials. This one was 30 minutes long. The Ranger Smith short was a brief 7 minutes; I’m guessing they aired a couple Capt. Lingers or something to fill time.

This one is about Boo Boo reverting to his feral nature and causing BIIIIG problems! This special would later go on to be kind of a weird trolling thing Adult Swim would do where they aired it every Sunday for a few months, even promoting regularly. This was like 2006, I think? They’d also air it as part of April Fools. Is that Adult Swim admitting this special sorta sucks? Does it sorta suck? Again, I liked these at the time and REFUSED to actively rewatch these for this write-up. Sorry.

The Jetsons: Father and Son Day/The Best Son | March 10th, 2002 11:45PM (Originally aired on CartoonNetwork.com in 2001) Our John K rock block ends with a pair of Jetsons shorts, Father and Son Day and The Best Son respectively. This is kinda the same deal as his Yogi Bear shorts, but these were exclusive for Cartoon Network’s website. I remember watching them on there. They are as bad as you’d expect late-period John K internet shorts to be, though the second short is a superior version of Spielberg’s A.I. (in that it’s shorter).

Night of the Living Doo | March 17th, 2002 - 11:00PM (originally aired on Cartoon Network, 2001)

Night of the Living Doo originally aired as wraparound segments during a Halloween Scooby Doo marathon on Cartoon Network. It’s kinda like an episode of the Scooby Doo Movies, which shoehorned in a guest star each episode. Suddenly my man Dick Van Dyke be running a carnival and shit. That’s the Scooby Doo Movies. At the end of the night they played all the wraparound segments in one uninterrupted sitting, so the viewer could appreciate it as an actual full-on Scooby Doo episode. Night of the Living Doo functioned both as an extension of that series as well as a parody. The guests were Gary Coleman, David Cross, and the very cool band Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. It was all very self-deprecating and had jokes about the absurdity of Scooby Doo tropes. Well trod territory by this point, sure. But this is better than most irreverent Scooby Doo things. It didn’t hurt that I was a HUGE David Cross fan when this aired. Is this where I tell the stupid-ass story about getting mad at a message board guy for not liking David Cross? Sure. Okay, yeah. When this aired on Adult Swim a guy on Kon’s (hi Kon) message board posted something about not finding David Cross funny, shrugging that he didn’t get the hype. He cited this and his appearances in the Men in Black movies, and nothing else as proof for his lackluster comedy skills. It’s kinda like deeming Eddie Murphy as a bad comedian after watching Dr. Doolittle.

The point of this special is that David Cross is a little wooden and stilted, like in the old Scooby Doo Movies episodes. This poster revealed that he never heard David Cross’s stand-up or seen Mr. Show, explaining “I don’t watch puppet shows” A response that still baffles me to this day. Why Mr. Show isn’t a-- WHAT IS HE TALKING ABOUT? I’m not even sure if there was EVER a puppet on Mr. Show*. David wasn’t even a guest on Crank Yankers at this point! SO WHAT THE FUCK? To this day whenever mutual pals from that board get together and watch a movie or show and a puppet appears we make a joke about this guy. Good story? No? Fuck you.

Other stuff about this show: When it originally aired on Cartoon Network it was a little bit longer than the Adult Swim version. There’s a missing scene. I think it’s David trying to play an improv game with a mummy or something. At one point I had it on tape, but I’m not sure I kept it. Sorry.

*sorry to be coy here, but I do know of at least one puppet on Mr. Show, episode 204 there is brief footage of Grass Valley Greg putting on a puppet show for his staff. This CAN’T be the source of the confusion, can it? It’s literally like, 5 seconds.

MAIL BAG

This’ll teach me to skip a day cuz this really piled up. Thanks, guys. I love all the attention. It is my favorite thing.

I never really saw oblongs as something for the hot topic set. They had Invader Zim and Squee for that kind of shit. Oblongs feel like it was always directly targeting me: the shut-in comedy nerd who would appreciate will ferrell and the sklars being in a thing. Since they ended up doing the exact same show with Janeane Garofalo and David Cross a few years later it seems like that was the goal.

Yeah, I guess that also makes sense. There were a few elements that were kinda gothy but this show was mostly just Angus Oblong ahem, clowning around (puckering mouth to stifle laughter like Chris Elliott in Cabin Boy)

What are your thoughts on the other adult animation blocks of the past couple decades? Spike's notriously failed attempt. Animation Domination. Apparently Syfy has had their own going?

Spike was irredeemably bad. People think this shit is easy. Animation Domination is sorta legit, but it’s anchored by mostly crap. That ADHD thing was kinda good and underrated. Is that still going on? I wish I were more diligent about watching/recording that. Some of them bumpers were good. Also, we mustn’t forget MTV’s oddities. They were kinda the first cable network to court Adult Animation as their thing. They deserve some kind of credit for that. I’m sure they’re doing fine.

I'm having a nice big thing of spaghetti for dinner with some chicken parm? Jealous?

I’ve never had those are they good

What does Ephemera mean? Why is this happenening? Why aren't you talking about 10 Home Movies episodes in a row like a good boy.

In dude time, my friend. In dude time

What would be your Adult Swim dream come true?

Having a complete archive of Adult Swim blocks on a harddrive like Don Giller has with his Letterman archive. Even the commercials and shit. I know of a guy who was a regular taper of the entire block from night 1 but I’m not sure he kept up with it when they went nightly. I should ask him if he still has his tapes, huh?

That or they bring back the BUILD YOUR OWN DVD thing but with blu-rays and you can make your own bumps, which was a different thing they had. THEY SHOULD COMBINE THEM. And you can master it in SD if you wanna put 10 hours of stuff on a disk.

All this is archival bullshit dork shit. Real answer: Clay Croker comes back from the dead and every block is hosted by Space Ghost. That’d be it, right?

If anyone has genuine/better answers please write in with them I wanna keep this conversation going. ‘kay?

McDonalds reintroduces limited edition Adult Swim Toys. You can get them all (plus an extra to keep wrapped for collectors purposes) but you have to spend 20 dollars at McDonalds to grab them all. This is the last day of the promotion. You have to personally eat everything you buy but you can take it home. You can only buy one of each food item. What are you getting? I know the longer the mailbag message is the quicker you are inclined to give some glib remark but indulge this one for once.

Oh wow. I’m literally going to take this seriously. I’d roll in as breakfast was ending. Get myself a McChicken Biscuit and a Bacon Egg & Cheese McGriddle, hashbrowns and a Coffee. Gobble that knob on down. Wipe my mouth with a napkin. It’s lunchtime, bitch. Big Mac, Large Fries, BIG ass soda. You feel me, dude? Lemme tally up. Okay, probably need more. 20 piece nugget. Take that home cuz I’m probably gonna have to save some for dinner. That’s probably 20 bucks right there, especially if you go to the McDonalds on Burnside where all the menu items are more expensive because of the amount of security they have to hire (did you know that different McDonalds have different prices even in the same city? I didn’t until very recently). If this somehow doesn’t satisfy my price point I get a Vanilla shake and eat it anally DURING my BIG D squirt sesh, so it’ll spend as little time in my body as possible. Wait, do I get something for this? I might do this tomorrow just cuz. It sounds like a funky thing to do

Do you think you'll open an Adult Swim mueseum at some point? You seem to be the only steward of its history.

Unless I’m hired to by a large corporation, probably not. Also I don’t think I actually have much in the way of merch other than DVDs. I stopped being a DVD completist at some point around Freaknick The Musical. Oh, I never EVER bought a Robot Chicken DVD, EVER. I literally had a nightmare once that one appeared in my collection.

Hey! Please keep us abreast any time you put more of your garbage on eBay. Maybe you can put your wedding dress on there, you big girl.

Fucking sexist/trasphobic behavior.

Check out my eBay auctions I got season 18 of NCIS up there and some other things :)

The Ripping Friends blow chunks. I don't care if a rapist or the opposite of a rapist (a virgin who volunteers, lol) made it. It sucks a high hard one like when Ozzy banged the Cheiftan's Wife in that Black Sabbath TV Funhouse cartoon. Tell me more.

Tell you more?

Name one rap song you tolerate lol. You can't say anything by weird al or marky mark.

I guess I like the song the pest sings from the motion picture The Pest

Are there any good podcasts on adult swim?

The official one hosted by Matt Harrigan is good, but I’ve only bounced around on it. I don’t know if there’s any formal recap ones. I simply don’t know!

HE'S GIVING HIGH HARD ONE TO CHEIFTAN'S WIFE? UH OH!

Buddy, you are BANNED for LIFE from my MAIL BAG! You drive me CRAZY!

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #night of the living doo #boo boo runs wild #yogi bear #jetsons #ephemera

9 notes · View notes

obxhoe · 4 years ago

Note

I was wondering if you could maybe do a JJ x kook reader, where the reader is kinda stuck being with rafe because of family ties and this is the time JJ takes the blame for what pope did to toppers boat, and the reader pays it off anonymously because they have a crush on him?

a/n: HI!!!! This is like a month late I’m so sorry y’all but I have more stuff in the works now that I have more free time. I spun it a little like John B and Sarah have been together for a lil bit, so the timeline is a tad off from the show. It’s kinda all over the place so I’m sorry about that.

Word count: ~1.8k

Warnings: mention of drugs, some swearing, probably typos, nothing else really

Ever since Sarah started dating John B, you’ve been hanging out with the Pogues. Your skepticism, due to being a kook yourself, about hanging with the group quickly fizzled after just one day on the HMS Pogue. And almost everyday you’re with them, that is whenever you can get away from Rafe.

Ah. Rafe Cameron. King of the kooks. And your “boyfriend”, not necessarily by choice. You two had grown up together on Figure Eight and of course as soon as you two had entered the age where it was acceptable to date, both sets of parents threw you together. It was nice, at first. It was new, exciting and you got to spend time with one of your best friends. But as time went on, and as you matured, Rafe seemed to stay in his high school days. Drugs controlled his mood, he was never on time or forgot you had plans and had completely changed from who he used to be.

You tried to break things off but your parents begged you to give it one more chance, they just couldn’t lose their friendship with the Cameron family or tarnish their precious image. So you gave it one more chance, about ten or more times. Your relationship at this point consists of hooking up with no strings attached, going to family dinners and putting on an act.

Your time is mainly spent with the Pogues. Rafe absolutely hated it at first, but he realized he couldn’t stop you and his sister, so he gave up eventually. Your summer days consist of surfing, relaxing on the boat or causing trouble around town. The trouble coming mostly from the shaggy blonde, with the ocean blue eyes that you were absolutely, undeniably, in love with. Rafe gets with his fair share of girls now. It never really bothered you at all since you both had come to a mutual agreement that this so-called relationship was purely physical and just an act to satisfy your parents. So now you spend your days and nights sneaking around with JJ Maybank, only the pogues and Sarah knowing what’s really going on. Rafe knows you’re fucking other people, but he doesn’t know who. If he did, he would lose his shit.

You wake up to your phone ringing next to your bed. Rubbing your eyes, you see the caller ID state that it was Rafe. You sigh rolling your eyes, you just talked to him before you decided to nap due to the exhaustion engulfing you after working a 7 hour shift this morning.

“Is this a booty call?” You ask, flopping back on your bed.

“Y/N! Someone sunk Topper’s boat!” He yells. You sit up immediately, stomach sinking, having an idea of who could have done this.

“Wait what?” You stand up and start pacing around.

“The plug wasn’t put back in. Topper claims he remembered to put it back in, but he was also drinking the last time he was driving it. Probably those fucking pogues though.” He raises his voice. “I don’t understand why you and Sarah hang around them, they’re trash y/n.”

“Rafe…” You state, already getting annoyed. “I love gossip just as much as the next girl, but I was hoping this was either more important information or a booty call. And seeing that it’s not, I am going to go back to bed.”

“Whatever. Come over tonight then?” He asks.

“Yeah yeah, see you then” You huff and lay back down trying to sleep, but your mind won’t stop thinking about the incident. Part of you knew JJ could have done this, and another part of you denied that. You give up on trying to sleep, throw on a bathing suit and one of JJ’s giant tees and head over to the chateau.

You hop out of the car and walk around to the backyard of the chateau.

“Now if any kooks come up to you and ask if you had anything to do with it, you walk up to ‘em, look ‘em right in the eye” You hear JJ stop and Pope mumble something. “And deny. Deny. Deny.” he finishes. You stop in your tracks, your suspicions now proving to be true. Your phone goes off and you mentally curse yourself for not putting your phone on do not disturb.

“Y/n?” JJ runs over to you, his face lighting up.

“What were you guys just talking about?” You ask nervously.

“Um uh well. I-” Pope starts but JJ cuts him off.

“Just talking about trying to find the gold. In case any kooks find out, we can’t have them fucking it up for us, ya know?” JJ says. You nod, not believing a single word but too scared to push for any further answers.

“Well I gotta go back to work, I told my dad I would only be gone an hour or two.” Pope says, heading to the driveway. “Dinner tonight?”

“Yeah. Wait no fuck. I forgot I have a stupid family dinner thing I promised my parents I would go to.” You say, remembering you told Rafe you’d go over tonight. “Can we just come and hang out with you at work?”

“Yeah sure, I don’t care. Kie said she would help out today so she’ll probably be there by the time we get there” He says, and the two of you follow him.

You get to Heyward’s and not even 15 minutes after you arrive, chaos ensues.

“Hey Pope, someone here to see you” Heyward says, eyeing the boy almost as a warning.

“Evening officer.” He says, swallowing as his hands start to shake.

“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property.” Shoupe orders, as the other officers step forward and grab him. You start screaming, following Heyward outside, JJ hot on your heels. Kie starts to sob, and everyone else starts to shout, confusion in the air around you. Pope looks as if he can’t breathe. His eyes looking lost. All of a sudden the screaming stops, and you hear one voice call out.

“It wasn’t him! it was me. He tried to talk me out of it. but I was mad because he’d just been beaten up. I was so sick of those assholes from figure eight that I lost my shit.” JJ turns to Pope. “I can’t let you take the blame for something that I did. You’ve got too much to lose.”

“JJ what are you doing?!” Pope hisses.

“I'm telling the truth. For once in my goddamn life, I’m gonna tell the truth. I took his old man’s boat too.”

“What the hell?” Heyward says from behind you.

“JJ come on” Pope pleads.

“Shut up Pope, shut up. He’s a good kid. “This was all me.” That was the last thing they said before they took him away. You didn’t notice you had started crying until you felt your tears roll down your neck. You feel a hand on your shoulder and see Heyward giving you the most sympathetic look. As much as he acts like JJ annoys the fuck out of him, you know that he loves JJ.

You, Pope and Kie stay outside as everyone else retreats to where they were before. You sink to the ground, hands covering your face.

“What do we do?’ You groan, wiping away the rest of your tears from your cheeks.

“I’m not sure we can do anything” Kie says.

“Well,” Pope starts “I mean in a perfect world we could pay off whatever his restitution would be. But Topper’s boat is expensive, like only the Kook-iest of Kooks can affor-”

“Pope, we know okay. That doesn’t help” Kie interrupts. You shoot up, an idea coming to your head. Deciding to keep it to yourself knowing that the two of them would immediately shut it down and call you crazy, you make an excuse to leave so you can execute your plan.

“I have to go guys. Get all socially acceptable and that shit for dinner with my family.” You start walking in the direction of your car. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” You call out. You get into the car, open the glove compartment and grab the checkbook. Luckily, you share your bank account with your very, very elderly grandparents, who are loaded. And never check the account ever. So no one will notice anything missing. Your parents won’t be able to see anything, no one will ever know, and you’ll be able to do it anonymously. You drive to the station and climb out the car, your hands sweaty and stomach nervous.

“I’m here for JJ. Uh Maybank.” You tell the lady at the front.

“Let me grab Shoupe” She gives you a judgemental look as she walks back.

“Y/n, didn’t expect to see you here. Everything okay? Parents good?” Shoupe says as he sips on some coffee.

“Yeah yeah everythings fine. Um I’m here for JJ” You say, fidgeting with your hands.

“Maybank?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I’m here to pay his restitution.”

“That’s $25,000 Y/n…” He puts his coffee down.

“Alright.” You grab a pen from the desk and start to write in the checkbook.

“Woah woah woah. Slow down. What will your parents think when they see 25k missing?”

“They won’t know. It’s not their account.” You finish filling out the check. “I would like to keep this anonymous please.” You hand it to him and walk out the door. You drive to the local market and sit in the parking lot, air conditioning cranked high and your favorite band blasting through the speakers and wait for him to call or text you.

------

“Maybank” Shoupe says, unlocking the cell that he was sitting in. “Your restitution has been paid, you’re free to go.”

“By who?” He shoots up, eyes wide.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Get out of here.” Shoupe commands.

------

Your ringtone interrupts the music and you groan as you reach for the phone hoping it’s from the only person you want to talk to right now. *JJ* flashes on the screen, with a photo of him shotgunning a beer.

“JJ?” You try to sound confused to avoid any suspicion.

“Y/n! I’m out! Someone paid my restitution. Shoupe wouldn’t tell me who but at this point I don’t care. Can you come get me please? Oh! And bring burgers and fries, jail makes you hungry.”

“JJ you were there for 2 hours, tops.” You laugh.

“Yeah and I’m starving. I’ll be waiting outside the station.” You hang up, pick up some food and head over to the station.

The moment he sees you his eyes light up.

“Hey beautiful.” He hops in the car and grabs your face, kissing you passionately. “I love you. You know that? I fucking love you.” You smile as the words leave his lips.

“I love you too J. Now eat up.” You throw him the bag of food and drive off to the Chateau, texting Rafe that something had come up. You’ll come up with an explanation as to how you got out of your “family dinner” for Pope and Kie. Tonight, you’re putting JJ first.

#jj #JJ Imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj obx #obx #jj outer banks #outer banks

116 notes · View notes

seeaddywrite · 4 years ago

Text

not a place, but a feeling

a/n: written for alex manes appreciation week 2020, day 1. i used the theme ‘home can be a person,’ but took a lot of liberties, whoops? thanks as always to @soberqueerinthewild for catching all of my repetition, wacky tenses, & holding my hand through the last 5k words of this fic, haha.

warnings: starts with forlex, but this is very clearly a malex fic & forrest does not end up particularly happy. angst with a happy ending, as per usual. 8k+ wordcount.

________

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Alex mutters to himself, turning the key in his SUV’s ignition for the third time and hoping for a miracle. The engine wheezes, sputters a few times, and finally settles into a high-pitched whine that sets Alex’s teeth on edge. Apparently, the ‘check engine’ light on his dash that morning had been more urgent than he’d expected -- and now, he’s stuck somewhere between Jim Valenti’s old hunting cabin and town. Fantastic. He’d already been running late to meet Forrest thanks to taking way too long to pick an outfit for their first official date, and now he’s over half an hour late.

As if it read his mind, Alex’s phone starts to ring, Forrest’s name flashing across the display. Groaning, Alex accepts the call and tries to crank the engine one more time. The attempt results in a screech and an alarming puff of smoke emerging from beneath the hood. With a bitten-off curse, Alex yanks the key from the ignition and throws the car door open, hastily putting a safe distance between himself and the smoking vehicle. Logic tells him that the smoke isn’t necessarily a precursor to an explosion, or even a fire, but years of military training and instinct are impossible to ignore.

“Hello? Hello? Alex, are you there?”

Alex glances from the still-smoking SUV to the phone in his palm, the source of the tinny-sounding voice calling his name. Frustrated with himself, he smacks a hand against his face and answers, hoping Forrest hasn’t already hung up on him. “Hey, yeah, I’m here. Sorry -- my car doesn’t want to start, and I guess I cranked it one too many times, because the engine just started smoking.”

For a moment, the only thing Alex hears on the other end of the line is blaring music. “I should probably not be relieved that your car blew up, huh?” Forrest asks, a self-deprecating laugh clear even through the pounding bass in the background. “I was starting to think you were standing me up.”

“What? Why would you think that?” Alex asks, putting the call on speaker so he could pull up Guerin’s contact information and start a new text while he listens. There’s no one else he could call at this hour, and he needs to be able to get to base on Monday, one way or the other. Michael would probably be able to fix the SUV, and even if he couldn’t do it overnight, he’d at least get Alex a loaner car for a few days while he did. And, after that, Alex wouldn’t have to worry about something like this happening again anytime soon; he could trust that Michael would actually fix the problem entirely, unlike any other mechanics in Roswell -- or in general, honestly.

My car gave up on me halfway to town. Any chance of some help?

It only occurs to Alex after the message has gone through that he should probably be a little more apprehensive about texting Guerin out of nowhere, but he’s really not. The two of them make a hell of a team, and after spending so much time together unravelling the mysteries of Nora and Tripp, and everything that came after, Alex is more confident than ever that Michael will always be part of his life -- even if it’s not in the way he’d initially hoped it would be. They’re family, whether or not they’re sleeping together, and Alex doesn’t doubt that anymore.

“Well, you weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of going to Planet 7,” Forrest is saying, answering Alex’s question about why he would stand him up, and Alex feels guilty for not giving him his full attention. “And I kind of pressured you into it. I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

It’s a fair assumption, Alex supposes. He hadn’t been thrilled with the suggestion of going to Roswell’s only gay bar, even after finding the courage to push his father’s hateful words and judgements out of his mind for long enough to pull Forrest into a kiss in the middle of the Wild Pony. But he’s not the kind of guy to agree to something he really doesn’t want to do for a date, and he’d assumed Forrest would know that -- like Guerin would have. But Forrest is different from Michael; he has no reason to take Alex at his word, lacks the intimate knowledge of who Alex is that Michael has somehow managed to collect through ten years of hook-ups, break ups, and hurt feelings. And that’s not Forrest’s fault -- so Alex needs to learn to communicate better, somehow, if this has any chance of working out.

“I’m still planning on coming,” he promises, looking out at the darkened horizon, visible only because of the moonlight. “Seriously, I would’ve been there already if it weren’t for the fact that my car decided that tonight was the night it was giving up on me. I’m really looking forward to seeing you.”

There’s an audible smile in Forrest’s voice as he responds, and Alex feels vaguely proud of himself for managing to put it there, despite everything. “Okay, awesome. Want me to come get you? It’s late, so I doubt anyone’s going to be able to tow you before morning. And trust me, you don’t need to rough it in the desert overnight to prove what a badass you are. I already know.”

Alex laughs, and opens his mouth to retort -- but his phone dings, signalling an incoming barrage of messages, and Alex opens them with a swipe of his thumb, once again distracted from the phone conversation.

Let me guess. You decided to ignore your check engine light again.

Or was it an oil change you put off for six months?

You realize routine maintenance isn’t actually a suggestion, right? You either get it done, or you end up stranded in the middle of the desert begging for a ride.

On my way now with the tow now. Can you give me anything more specific than halfway to town, or am I supposed to just drive and hope for the best?

Alex snaps a picture of the nearest mile marker with the flash on, and sends it to Guerin with a quick, I plead the 5th. See you soon.

“Hello? Alex! Alex, are you --”

Alex winces guiltily and puts the phone hurriedly back to his ear. “Sorry, sorry, I’m still here. What were you saying?”

Again, all Alex hears for a long moment is the thudding of the bass from whatever stupid pop song the DJ is playing, and he runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. He already basically missed their date, and now he’s only half paying attention while Forrest is kind and understanding about it. Alex doesn’t deserve his patience.

“I was asking you where you are. I’ll come get you, and we can still get in a few hours of shitty music and half-off beer,” Forrest reiterates patiently, though Alex can tell he’s starting to reach the end of his reserves of understanding. And, considering the circumstances, Alex doesn’t blame him.

“No, don’t worry about it! That’s pretty far out of your way. I already have a tow truck coming, so I’ll just have them give me a ride into town, and I’ll meet you like we planned.” Alex pauses, reflecting on his words and wondering when, exactly, he’d decided to avoid using Michael’s name… and why. It’s not like Forrest didn’t already know that the two of them were good friends. It’s not like it meant anything, that Alex called Michael to help -- his car broke down, and Michael is a mechanic. None of that added up to anything that he needed to lie to Forrest about.

And yet.

“You found a garage open at this hour in Roswell?” Forrest asked incredulously. “I can’t even get fast food past eight, so you’re going to have to share some of your black market contacts.”

The expectation of a laugh is pretty obvious, so Alex manages a slightly strained chuckle. “Uh, well, I can probably hook you up with a burger at the Crashdown after hours, but that’s about it,” he retorts, even though Liz is long-gone, and the chances of after-hours snacks at the diner are a lot lower without her. “I just called Guerin, tonight. He pretty much runs Sanders’ garage these days, and lives out back, so it’s no big deal for him to come get me.”

Alex opts to ignore the fact that he knows Michael doesn’t usually drop whatever he’s doing to rescue stranded motorists who aren’t smart enough to get their vehicle to a garage when the ‘check engine’ light comes on when he’s not working. That’s just what friends do for each other, and Alex would do the same, if their positions were reversed.

“Oh.” Alex doesn’t know Forrest well enough to read the emotion in the short syllable, but he’s not naive enough to think he sounds pleased. “You two must be pretty good friends if he’s giving up his Friday night plans to come pick you up, huh?”

It seems like a loaded question, so Alex just says, “We’ve known each other a long time,” in response, and glances up as a set of slowing headlights wash over him. Sanders’ tow truck pulls off to the side of the road in front of Alex’s SUV, and Michael waves from the window, familiar curls bouncing from the motion. Alex waves back with a grin.

“He’s pulling up now, actually, so I’m going to get off of here. I’ll give you a call and let you know when I’m five minutes out, if you still want to try to spend some time together tonight?”

Alex watches as Michael hops out of the truck and starts toward him with the usual swagger in his stride. It’s hard to tell what he was doing before he got Alex’s text, because he’s wearing the same ragged jeans and worn jacket that Alex has seen him in a hundred times, but there’s enough volume in his curls to suggest he put some effort into his hair. A date with Maria, maybe? Or hanging out with Isobel, who loved to make fun of his hair if he didn’t put the effort in?

“Yeah, okay,” Forrest says, recapturing Alex’s attention for a minute. “I’ll stay and have a few drinks, and I’ll see you when you get here. Tell Michael I said ‘hey.’”

“Will do,” Alex says, and ends the call just as Michael reaches him, hand extended for the keys.

“So?” he asks, and despite the darkness, Alex knows exactly what the teasing expression on Michael’s face looks like. It’s always the same -- a furrowed brow, a mischievous glint in his eyes, even as he manages to keep his lips from turning up in a too-obvious smile. It’s a look that never ceases to make Alex’s heartbeat speed up, even now, when they’ve moved past any real chance of romantic reconciliation. “Which one was it? Check engine light or skipped oil change?”

Alex rolls his eyes, but tosses his keys into Michael’s open palm. “Look, it’s not my fault that the check engine light comes on when you need an oil change -- who wouldn’t assume that’s the problem and keep driving?” They’ve had this argument before; Alex always takes his car to Michael when something goes wrong, and Michael always has to point out that Alex sucks at taking care of an engine. At this point, Alex would almost be disappointed if the mocking stopped.

Michael shakes his head in faux disappointment and disappears to pop the hood, leaving Alex to follow behind and watch. Another wave of smoke wafts into the night sky when the hood opens, and Michael sends Alex a disbelieving look over his shoulder. “Seriously? How many times did you try to start it when it made the grinding noise? A hundred? This would’ve taken me two minutes to fix if you hadn’t kept pushing it.” He’s pulled a flashlight from somewhere and is shining the beam down into the guts of the SUV, staring at what, to Alex, looks like a bunch of hoses, wires, and smoke.

“Sorry,” Alex says sheepishly. “Don’t worry about it tonight if it’s going to take a while -- I’m sure you had plans. We can just tow it back to town and worry about it again on Monday, during actual working hours.”

There’s a clank and a thud, and another plume of smoke curls up from the engine. Michael groans, and straightens up to slam the hood closed. “Yeah, okay, I give up. Let’s just get it on the truck and I’ll figure out what you did to it when I can actually see what I’m doing.” They both take a few steps back, and Michael turns, looking down the silent road for a minute before glancing back at Alex. “I’m going to cheat, since there’s no one else around. You can just get in the truck if you want. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Michael doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s staring intensely at the SUV. After a moment, with a slide of gravel and the squeal of tires, the SUV moves up the ramp on its own. There’s a thud as the connections fasten under the guidance of Michael’s metaphysical hands, and a few minutes later, they’re on their way back into Roswell.

For once, the silence between them isn’t loaded with things they should have said. Alex is reclined in the seat, relaxed and comfortable with someone he trusts driving -- but the ease of the atmosphere evaporates quickly when Michael asks, “So where am I dropping you? Do you need a ride back out to your place?”

It shouldn’t be this hard to tell Michael that he’s meeting Forrest. They haven’t been together in a long time, if they ever really even were -- and Michael has Maria. It’s not like he’s going to be upset. But the words feel stuck in Alex’s throat as he opens his mouth to answer, and his stomach squirms unpleasantly. “Uh, no,” he says. “I’m actually … meeting someone. At Planet 7.” His eyes are locked on the road straight ahead, but Alex can’t help himself; he glances at Michael through his periphery to check for a reaction.

Michael’s shoulders have lost their comfortable slouch, and his spine is rigid. He obviously still cares about who Alex is spending his time with -- but Alex isn’t going to apologize. They’re both moving on, and they need to remember that.

“Yeah,” Michael says finally. “I kind of guessed. You’re pretty dressed up for a night of snacks in front of the TV.”

Alex glances down at himself, taking in the dark-wash jeans and button-up shirt he’d selected for the occasion. “I guess so,” he agrees, sighing. “Uh, what were you doing with your night, before you were rudely interrupted by my smoking engine?” It’s not the most graceful subject change, but Alex doesn’t really care as long as they’re away from the topic of Forrest.

Michael snorts. “Trust me, I was relieved you called -- it’s my night to babysit Max and make sure he doesn’t take off after Liz. Towing a car is way more exciting than watching him boohoo into his beer.”

“I’m surprised you’re not glued to Maria’s side, since she just got out of the hospital.” Alex had only been trying to keep the conversation moving steadily away from his own date that night; he doesn’t expect Michael to go rigid in response. He blinks, turning in the passenger seat to get a better look at Michael’s expression, but he’s gone blank.

“Maria and I are over.” The answer, when it comes, is terse and definitely over-simplified, but Alex knows better than to ask for details. If Michael wanted to share, he would have already, and while friends might have license to pry into each other’s personal life, Alex doesn’t want Michael doing the same in return, so he stays quiet aside from a soft, “I’m sorry.”

The drive loses the easy sense of camaraderie after that. Alex spends the next twenty minutes into town fighting with a small, cruel voice in the back of his head that keeps whispering celebratory words about Michael’s break-up. They’re friends now. Friends don’t think like that, but even after a decade of separation, it’s hard not to think of Michael as more than a friend. Alex hopes that he just needs some practice; otherwise, none of this is going to end well.

Planet 7 isn’t exactly in the middle of town, but Michael finds it without any direction. Alex slides out of the passenger seat when he sees Forrest coming toward them, smiling, and glances back at Michael. “Thanks for the help, Guerin,” he says earnestly. “I really appreciate it.”

Michael nods, his expression still tense, though Alex thinks that’s less about his break-up and more about Forrest, now. “No problem. If you need a ride home, just let me know.”

Forrest has reached them by this point; one of his arms falls over Alex’s shoulders, and Alex only startles for a moment before relaxing again when he realizes who’s touching him. Michael’s eyes narrow slightly, but not enough to be noticeable to someone who isn’t really looking.

“That won’t be necessary,” Forrest tells Michael pleasantly, though he’s standing closer than he ever has before when they aren’t joined at the mouth. Alex sighs inwardly -- this is what he’d been trying to avoid. He doesn’t want Forrest thinking he needs to compete with Michael. Competition and jealousy in a relationship never ends well, and Alex wants one good thing in his life. Surely that’s not too much to ask? “I’ll make sure he gets home in one piece. Thanks for bringing him though, Alien Dude!”

Michael nods at Forrest, then glances back at Alex, an unreadable expression in his dark gaze. “I’ll call you tomorrow about the SUV,” he promises. “It might take me a couple of hours, but I’ll get it up and running for you by Monday. You need to be on base by six, right?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Guerin -- I owe you one.” Really, he’s lost track of who’s one-upping who when it comes to favors, but Alex isn’t interested in keeping score, and he doesn’t think Michael cares much, either.

Michael nods at them one more time, his eyes lingering on Alex’s face for long enough to make him start to squirm, and then he’s gone, disappearing in a plume of exhaust and the groan of overworked machinery, leaving Alex and Forrest staring after his his taillights and Alex feeling strangely bereft.

“All right,” Forrest says, his voice twice as cheerful as it had been only a moment ago. “Let’s get the night started, shall we? You missed out on Happy Hour, but I scored you a feather boa anyway.”

Alex laughs, letting the teasing ease him back from thinking about Michael and into focusing on Forrest and their plans. This is the path he’d chosen, the person he’d chosen. He’s never going to give up on being a part of Michael’s life, and he’ll protect the aliens and their secret with everything he has in him to make up for what his family did to theirs. But Michael can be his family without being his lover, and Alex needs to stop confusing the two before he winds up heartbroken and alone all over again.

Sometimes, love just isn’t enough. Cosmic doesn’t mean much without commitment, without trust, and there are too many complicated feelings between Alex and Michael to make a go of it. So he smiles, leans into Forrest’s side, and allows himself to be led into Planet 7 with a warm arm draped over his shoulders.

*******

Despite the anxiety leading up to their first few dates, being with Forrest turns out to be surprisingly easy. He’s smart and funny, quick with a witty comment or self-deprecating joke, and never pushes Alex further than he’s willing to be pushed. He understands Alex’s service background and love of writing, even if music isn’t his preferred medium, and encourages Alex to dress and act in a way that makes him feel true to himself. Alex smiles a lot around him, and laughs, and starting their relationship feels like sliding into an old, worn jacket -- soft and comfortable, without any real friction.

“So, basically, you’re bored,” Maria summarizes, after Alex finishes telling her about how smoothly things are going. They’re in the Wild Pony just after opening, Maria in her usual position behind the bar, Alex sitting on a stool opposite. She’s only been back to work for a few weeks after her stint in the hospital, but there’s no sign of weakness in the way she runs her business -- or the way she’s looking at him now.

“What? No! That’s not what I mean,” Alex argues, shaking his head quickly. “I said things are comfortable between us. That doesn’t mean I’m bored!”

Maria raised an eyebrow, her brightly-painted fingernails tapping against the bar. She’s dressed fairly conservatively tonigh in a flannel shirt and a pair of form-fitting jeans, but her nails are painted in pastels, a minor homage to her usual style. “Sweetie, you’ve been dating for what, two weeks? Relationships that new aren’t supposed to be easy, and definitely not comfortable. Two weeks in is like the honeymoon! You’re supposed to want to spend every waking moment together, to have to fight to keep your hands off of each other -- and instead of telling me about how hot he makes you, you’re comparing him to an old coat.” Skepticism drips from her words, and Alex crosses his arms over his chest and stares back at her in return annoyance.

“We’re taking things slow,” he says, and winces inwardly at the defensive tone.

While it’s true that Alex hasn’t exactly had to fight to keep his hands off of Forrest, he hasn’t been fully honest about them agreeing to take their sexual relationship slowly. Alex isn’t a prude, and it’s not that Forrest isn’t exactly his type. He’s just been unsure about taking that next step. Every time their dates end up at Forrest’s place -- and it’s honestly just a coincidence that Forrest has never stayed at Alex’s. It’s just always worked out that way; Alex isn’t trying to keep him out of his personal space -- and their goodbye turns into a little more than kiss, there’s always something holding Alex back from letting the moment continue. Forrest is great about it, and smiles when Alex pulls away, but after four dates and four attempts at moving onto second base, Alex can tell he’s starting to get frustrated.

Honestly, so is Alex. He doesn’t know why he’s so reticent to sleep with his boyfriend. Forrest has always been embarrassingly up front about finding Alex sexy, and he’s never so much as blinked at the realities of Alex’s amputation or scars -- but even so, Alex can’t do it. He’s just not ready.

But he’ll be damned if he admits any of that to Maria. Alex has no desire to know how she’d read into that information whatsoever.

“Uh-huh, right. Slow.” Maria pours a shot of whiskey into two glasses and slides one across the bartop to him, eyebrows raised in challenge, and Alex makes a face, but clinks his shot glass against Maria’s and knocks it back. “Okay, great. Are you drunk enough to tell me the truth now, or --”

“Whoa, shots before the sun goes down? And here I thought I was the town drunk.”

When Alex turns, he finds himself face-to-face with a smirking Michael Guerin. He’s wearing his usual jeans and open-collared shirt, black cowboy hat tipped forward on his head, and he’s obviously trying to act nonchalant. But Alex knows that he’s been avoiding Maria ever since she broke up with him -- Maria had been complaining about it half an hour ago. With that in mind, he looks at Michael again, and sees the tense lines around his eyes and the sharp edges of his smile.

“I think I’ve got a ways to go before I’m even tipsy,” Alex retorts, shaking his head in bemusement. “But you’re welcome to join us and see how many shots it takes.” In the weeks since their last meeting, it’s gotten easier to be around Michael without worrying about saying or doing the wrong thing. They’ve relaxed back into their usual banter, supported by genuine care for each other, and Alex isn’t spending every second of every interaction analyzing microexpressions anymore. It’s a nice change, and he’s planning on doing whatever he can to make sure it sticks around this time.

“You have no idea how much I wish I could,” Michael groans, and gestures over one shoulder with his thumb. Alex follows the movement and finds Isobel and Max Evans settling into a table at the back of the bar. Isobel’s perfectly-lined eyes are rolling in what can only be exasperation, and Max just looks miserable. There are bags beneath his eyes, and his hair and beard have seen better days, while Isobel is her usual immaculate self in floral dress with a flowing skirt and an updo. “Iz decided she’s had enough of Max’s moping and wants to get him laid.”

The disbelieving noise that escapes from Alex’s throat really isn’t a reflection on Max’s looks -- he has no doubt that, if his heart were in it, the defacto leader of Michael’s little family could find someone to take home with him. But the guy is clearly miserable and heartbroken over Liz’s departure, still. There’s no way Isobel’s going to convince him to pick anyone up tonight, no matter how many beautiful women she parades past the table.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Michael says, shaking his head. “I told her she’s crazy. Max has been pining over Liz for longer than he’s known how to speak in complete sentences. There’s no way he’s moving on that easy -- but you know how Isobel is.” He shrugs, a what can you do? sort of gesture, and Alex is stopped from answering by Maria clearing her throat pointedly from behind the bar.

Michael glances her way, his shoulders tensing for a second, but his smile is only slightly strained. “‘Sup, Deluca?” he asks. “I need three of whatever you’ve got on tap.” The interaction is wholly impersonal, and Alex almost winces for Maria, who definitely didn’t miss the cool tone in Michael’s voice as he spoke to her. Obviously, he’s still upset about the break-up, or at least holding onto some hard feelings. It’s not like Alex can blame him either, as much as he wants to be able to take Maria’s side, or at least understand her perspective. But Alex knows what it’s like to love Michael Guerin, and he knows what it’s like to lose him, and he can’t understand why Maria would put herself through that if she didn’t have to. She hasn’t really explained herself, either, to Michael or to Alex, so it’s almost impossible to empathize.

“You should come hang out,” Michael invites, when Maria turns away to get his drinks. “There’s already a crowd, so she’s going to be too busy to chat soon.” He’s right; the Pony has filled up while Maria grilled him on Forrest, and there’s already a line forming at the bar. For now, the second bartender has it covered, but it won’t be long before Maria will have to devote her full attention to running drinks. “You get company, I have someone to buffer and maybe stop me from killing one of my siblings . . . it’s a win-win situation, really.”

Alex chuckles, and nods his easy agreement. He’s not entirely sure how he feels about Max Evans after what he did to Flint -- it’s not like he hadn’t had a good reason to want the man dead, considering what he’d done, but despite all of his sins, Flint is still Alex’s brother. But it’s hard to look at the guy moping in a bar full of people and see a cold-blooded killer, and Alex wants to like Max. Plus, Isobel is always good for a laugh and at least one ridiculous story, and Alex never needs much of an excuse to spend time with Michael. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “But I’m telling you, if Max starts crying into his cup, I’m out of there.”

“Deal,” Michael agrees with a laugh. He heads back to the table with Isobel and Max, his body language getting looser the further he gets from Maria. Alex wonders if he realizes how much more relaxed he seems as he rejoins Max and Isobel -- before Max’s death, that was the last word he would have used to describe Michael in his presence, but now, it’s like something has clicked between them, and Guerin is clearly most comfortable with his family.

Alex tries not to hope that extends to him.

“He’s still giving you the cold shoulder, huh?” Alex asks, once Michael is out of earshot. He’ll go join them in a minute, after he has a chance to say goodbye to Maria and try, one more time, to figure out why she’d ended a relationship that seemed to make her genuinely happy.

Sighing, Maria nods. “Guess so. I was hoping that it’d get better, once he finally started coming back to the Pony, but --” she waves a hand in Guerin’s vague direction, the golden bangles on her wrist clacking together. “I get a ‘hey, how are you?’ and a ‘I’ll take a beer, please,’ and that’s about it. He doesn’t even try to get out of paying anymore, and I never thought I’d be bummed about that.” Her nose wrinkles, and Maria hunches forward over her elbows on the bar, looking run down. “I miss him, you know?”

Alex knows. Intimately. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have broken up with him?” he suggests leadingly, hoping that he’ll get a reason without having to ask, explicitly, why Maria had ended things. The suggestion sends a brief shock of something through his chest, but Alex doesn’t let himself stop to analyze it.

Maria rolls her eyes, but there’s a lingering sadness in them that Alex could pick up from across town. He knows Maria too well to fall for the act she’s putting on, and they both know it. “I had to,” she says finally, the words slow enough that Alex can tell she’s thinking it through even as she answers. “I didn’t want to, but—“ The sentence hangs in the air between them, but Maria doesn’t finish; instead, she shrugs. “I didn’t doubt that he loved me, you know. That wasn’t it— I know he thinks it was. But when you went missing, he just... didn’t think. Didn’t stop to ask for help, or wonder what he was walking into. He just started off on this crusade to get you back, all on his own.”

Alex opens his mouth, ready to tell her that Michael would have done the same for her, and that kind of recklessness probably isn’t a healthy, positive trait in a stable relationship, but Maria silences him with a look.

“Every time I called, every time I needed him— it wasn’t like that. He was always there, he always showed up for me— I’m not complaining! But Michael never jumped without looking, without thinking first, when it came to me. He was never desperate, or past reason, you know? He always managed to keep his secrets, or protect his family while he was saving me. But he didn’t do that when it came to you. Michael thought you were in real, mortal danger, and his first instinct was to do whatever was necessary to save you, and screw whoever else it might hurt.”

What the hell is he supposed to say to that? He sees where Maria is going with her explanation, now, and he’s not proud of the small, smug feeling hiding beneath the incredulity growing under his breastbone. “Maria, that’s not --”

“And,” Maria interrupts, raising her voice as if determined to be heard, whether Alex wants to listen or not. “As stupid as it sounds, considering the sci-fi horror movie our lives have become, I want someone to be that desperate at the thought of losing me.” Maria laughs, then, a short, self-deprecating sound. “I don’t want to play second-fiddle to the one great love of his life, Alex. As much as I love him, as much as I believe he loves me, dating isn’t fair for either of us.”

Alex stares at her, his lips parted as he flounders for the right words. He’s torn between trying to convince her that she’s wrong, that he and Michael are doing well at being friends and that it’s enough, and telling her that maybe she’s right, that it was never going to work out, and he wants her to be happy.

“That’s not— he’s not—“ Alex can’t argue, really. He knows, deep down, in the same part of his subconscious that knows the sky is blue and the grass is green, that Michael would do anything for him, and Alex would do the same in return. Even when they couldn’t look at each other without wanting to scream or cry, they’d always done their best to protect one another, and Alex doesn’t think that’s ever going to change. He’d promised Michael, once, that he’d keep him safe from his family, from the government, and Alex isn’t going to go back on his word on the off-chance that Michael and Maria might manage to work things out.

“Look, Maria,” he says finally. “Helena asked him to build a weapon of mass destruction.” The words feel the words like they’re being torn from his throat, but Alex perseveres. “And he did it. If she’d wanted him to build a bomb that could kill everyone in town, or more— he really might have done it, no matter who got hurt, just like you said.” Another full shot glass appears in front of him when he pauses, and Alex throws it back without a second thought, hoping the liquor will ease the ache caused by reliving everything that’s gone wrong with Guerin. “And how am I supposed to live with that? Knowing what he might do? What I could do, if our roles got reversed?”

The question is as good as admitting that Alex still has feelings for Michael, and he knows it. Hiding things, especially feelings, from Maria DeLuca has always been all but impossible, and this time, she’d barely had to give him a nudge before he spilled his guts. Damn it. How is he supposed to go over and drink with Michael and his family now?

“See? The fact that you didn’t even try to deny it is pretty telling, Alex,” Maria says, her lips quirked at the corners. “Instead, you immediately jump to how dangerous the lengths you’d go to for each other are. And yeah, maybe it’s a bad idea for you to be together -- I don’t know. That’s for you two to figure out.” Soft hands tighten around his. “But I had to make a choice for myself, too, and now I’m sure I made the right one.”

The noises of the bar and growing crowd around them fill the silence until Alex squeezes Maria’s hands and moves to pull back to say goodbye, before Guerin comes back to ask what’s taking so long -- the last thing either of them need is for Michael to overhear this conversation. But Maria’s grip tightens instead of releasing, and when Alex glances up at her, eyebrow raised in question, she’s staring at him with a strange intensity that tells him he really, really doesn’t want to hear whatever she’s about to say next.

“Don’t you think that Forrest should have a chance to make that choice?” she asks, and Alex yanks his hands free as he slides down from the barstool, more than ready to tell Maria to have a good night and leave. “I know you don’t want to hear it, Alex, but dating him is no different than Michael dating me. And--”

“And what, Maria?” Alex demands sharply. “You want me to tell you that I’m not sure about Forrest? You want me to admit there are times when we’re together that I have to remind myself that he’s not Michael, and I can’t expect him to know stupid things like the fact that I never remember to get a freaking oil change? Yeah, okay! I’ve been in love with Michael since I was seventeen. I can’t just flip a switch and stop feeling that way, even if it’s the right thing to do!”

Flustered at the sudden deluge of feeling and irritated by Maria’s pushing, Alex barely registers when Maria’s gaze jerks to one side and widens. “Alex -”

But he’s been holding back for weeks, months, years of watching Michael with other people and trying to open himself up to dating, too, and Alex isn’t ready to stop talking now that he’s started. So he ploughs forward, ignoring her interruption. “But you can’t compare yourself with Forrest, either -- it’s not the same. We’re dating! It’s fun, but he’s not in love with me. It’s not --”

“Alex!”

“Oh, no, don’t interrupt him on my account.”

Fuck. Like he was free-falling from a plane without the guarantee of a parachute, Alex’s stomach sinks and flips.

Forrest.

Alex spins around to find the guy he’s supposed to be dating standing less than a foot away, back and to Alex’s right, just a little in front of the crowd that now stretches from the entrance to the bar itself. Horror and guilt bloom in his stomach, making him feel nauseous. Alex struggles to make his mouth form words, his mind spinning as he tries to put together an explanation for whatever Forrest had just heard -- and what had he heard? How long has he been standing there? Alex honestly has no fucking clue, and the horrified, apologetic expression on Maria’s face suggests that she doesn’t, either. “I --” Alex shakes his head and forces a smile on his face. He can only hope it doesn’t look too fake. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” he says, biting his lower lip.

Both of Forrest’s eyebrows lift high enough that they disappear into his hairline. “Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty obvious,” he drawls, arms crossed defensively over his chest. Alex’s heartbeat speeds as the uncomfortable moment stretches between them, and for once, he’s grateful when someone drops a quarter in the jukebox and starts blaring an old country song at top volume. It cuts through the awkwardness a little, at least. “I came to meet a couple of friends who wanted to talk about plans to expand Open Mic night -- so, imagine my surprise when I came over here and heard the guy I’m dating talking about still being in love with his ex.”

Alex grips the edge of the bar, hard, and looks down at the floor. “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he says quietly, the words barely audible over the din of the bar. “Can we maybe go somewhere to talk about this? I know I owe you an explanation, and I didn’t mean to --”

But Forrest shakes his head before he can even finish the sentence, lips thin and eyes hard. “Look,” he says, and the timbre of his voice matches the look in his eyes. “We haven’t been dating long, and you really don’t owe me an explanation. I’ve known you have history with Guerin since we met at the barn, and it’s not like I haven’t had plenty of clues since then that you’re not over him.” He runs fingers through his vibrantly blue hair, looking away from Alex while his jaw clenches and unclenches. When his gaze meets Alex’s again, the anger is still obvious, but this time, resignation is, too. “I mean, come on. You called him to come pick you up for our first date, when I could have come to get you just as easily after the car died. And last week, when you were talking to Liz in the car? You should have seen the way your face lit up when you started telling her about how he’s thinking about going to college or whatever. And that song -- fuck. How did I miss that the song was about him?”

Forrest paces in a small circuit around the barstools in their immediate area, and Alex remains silent, unable to say or do anything to defend himself or correct Forrest -- because everything he’s said is true. Alex may not have realized it, and he’d truly gone into this relationship with the best of intentions, but he’d never really wanted Forrest. He’d liked the way he felt with Forrest, enjoyed being flirted with and pushed out of the comfort zone he’d hidden within for so long, and Alex had mistaken liking Forrest’s company for romantic feelings. And all the while, he’d been trying to push away real romantic feelings for Guerin, like he’d been doing for the last decade of his life.

God, he’s such an asshole.

“So. Here it is. I’m going to go home, get drunk, and hate you for a while. You’re going to leave me alone. And then, in a few months when I can look at you without wanting to either yell or cry, we’re going to be friends. Because there aren’t enough gay guys in Roswell, and I think we could both use a friend who gets it.”

It’s such a Forrest way of breaking up with Alex that he almost laughs. It didn’t seem like anything could ruffle Forrest’s feathers -- it had been one of the things that drew Alex to him from the start. That constant calm, the feeling that no matter how chaotic and out of control Alex got, Forrest would be steady. But a desire for control, or something easy, isn’t a good enough reason to be with someone, not when Alex has always thrived in high-pressure situations, has always sought out the adrenaline rush. Maybe it’s a side effect of his ruined childhood, but Alex has always preferred the chaos of his time with Michael to anything else.

Alex swallows, his smile small and a little sad when he nods at Forrest. “Okay. I can do that. But seriously, I really am sorry. I really thought that I could move on, and I wanted to try with you because you always made me feel so brave.”

Forrest sucks in a breath, shakes his head again, and disappears into the crowd, headed toward the exit.

Alex doesn’t go after him.

******

It takes Michael about twenty minutes to find him after Alex leaves the Wild Pony. He’d considered sticking around and drinking until the shame and guilt melted away into an alcoholic haze, but ultimately, Alex has enough problems without adding alcoholism to the list. So he’d said goodnight to a still-apologetic Maria, avoided the stares and whispers that came from being dumped very publicly in a small, gossip-mongering town, and slipped out into the street.

He walks home, thankful for the house he bought that’s only a mile or so from the Wild Pony and the fact that he’s able to walk for a mile without the pinching and aching his old prosthetic had caused. He’ll be sore tomorrow, probably, but it’s worth the night air and the chance to clear his head. The confrontation with Forrest had been so public that Alex is feeling more embarrassed than guilty, at this point, but he knows that when that dies down, he’ll be angry with himself for hurting someone that way. No, Forrest hadn’t been in love with him, but that didn’t excuse the way Alex had treated him -- and he’s going to have to deal with that, somehow.

“You know, I’m pretty sure normal people don’t walk down abandoned alleys at this hour,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and instead of jumping at the unexpected presence, Alex lets go of the tension he hadn’t known he was carrying. Michael Guerin’s voice has always meant security, to Alex, even when it wasn’t guaranteed.

“Good thing neither of us are normal people,” Alex shoots back, stopping to wait for Michael to catch up. When they’re shoulder to shoulder, he starts forward again, falling into step with Guerin without even thinking about it. “I thought you’d still be at the Pony-- it’s awfully early, if you’re trying to keep that town drunk title.”

Michael huffs a laugh. “What do you mean? They ended the night with a floor show, so I figured the bar was closing.” He should probably be offended by the joke, Alex thinks, or at the very least embarrassed that Michael most likely overheard everything Forrest said, but he’s not. Instead, he’s just glad that Michael cared enough to chase after him, even now.

They walk in silence for a while longer before they arrive at the fence around Alex’s yard. He opens it with his key and gestures Michael inside -- he’s come this far, after all, and he isn’t trying to make an excuse to leave. Alex kills the security system and leads the way into the kitchen, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket as he goes. “You want coffee?” he asks, heading straight for the coffee pot that’s served him well for the last several years.

Michael shrugs. “Sure, if you’re making it anyway.” He leans against the wall of cabinets a foot or so away from where Alex is measuring out coffee grounds, one foot propped casually behind him, arms hanging loose at his sides, and Alex can feel the weight of his stare as he flips the power switch on the coffee pot. But neither of them say anything, and the anticipation of the moment when someone finally breaks is enough to make Alex’s pulse speed up.

“So, are we going to talk about this, or --?” Unsurprisingly, Guerin is the first one to give in and speak.

Alex turns to face him properly, fidgeting with the bottom of his henley as he does. “Do you want to?”

It’s a fair question. Every time Alex has tried to talk to Guerin about their relationship, about the chance of moving forward, Michael’s been the one to say ‘no,’ or to walk away, and Alex doesn’t know if he’s brave enough to try again without some reassurance that this time will be different. He doesn’t mind fighting for Michael, doesn’t mind protecting him and loving him from a distance, if that’s what he needs, but there’s a limit to the number of times he can put himself on the line and be vulnerable only to have it thrown back in his face.

There’s a beat of silence, but ultimately, Michael nods. “Last time we talked about this, I couldn’t unravel what your father did to my mother from you and me,” he says quietly, his grease-stained fingers drumming idly on his own arms. “And I needed to know if I could find something -- someone -- who didn’t have the same power over me that you always have. Being with you has always made me feel like I’m in free fall, and I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t about to be a fiery crash landing.”

It hurts more than Alex expected, to hear that, but he knows he’s given Michael reason to worry. “Yeah,” he sighs, flipping the coffee pot off when the light comes on, signalling that it’s done brewing. “Is that still how you feel now?” If the answer is ‘yes,’ Alex doesn’t know where this conversation will lead, but he needs to know either way.

“Alex, I’m pretty sure I’m always going to feel out of control when I’m around you,” Michael says bluntly, taking a step forward, his gaze intent on Alex’s face. “You and me, we’ve never been easy, and my bet is that if we try this, we’re going to have to put some effort in to make it work -- but my mom never got the chance to be with Tripp. She had a lot more reasons than I do to be afraid, or to run in the other direction, and she didn’t, because she knew that love was worth it.”

Reading Tripp’s journal had been an emotional experience for all involved, but Alex wonders if he missed Michael having this revelation that day. He’d been caught up in his own thoughts, his own regrets for himself and his father, and the people they might have been if Tripp survived, so he supposes it’s possible.

“I don’t want to spend any more time wondering if we can be happy together,” Michael continues, suddenly close enough that Alex can feel his breath against his face. As usual, his mere proximity makes Alex’s cheeks feel warm and his stomach feel tight. He couldn’t speak now, even if he wanted to interrupt. “I don’t want to wake up every day for the rest of my life with the same hollow feeling in my gut when I realize you’re not in bed beside me. I don’t want to watch you date anymore assholes who make you smile, and I -- fuck, I want to be able to remind you to get your damn car serviced so you don’t end up stranded on the side of the road!”

Alex’s laugh is a little wet, and he’s reaching out to touch Michael’s stubbled cheek before his mind registers the action. He’s utterly overwhelmed with Michael’s admission, blown away by the honesty and the affection and the care, and God, he wants. He aches for Michael in that moment like he’d spent the better part of a decade aching for him in another part of the world, homesick for a person who wasn’t his anymore, and Alex wants to reclaim that home now more than ever.

Michael swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing convulsively, and continues, “I still can’t look away, Alex. And it hasn’t been our time, but now -- now I think it could be. If you still want to try this with me.”

This time, Alex’s laugh is incredulous. “I thought you heard what Forrest said at the bar,” he says, his expression impossibly fond as he looks back at Michael. “I’m in love with you. And I’m done running.”

The impulse to do it again will come back, he knows. Alex’s spent his entire adult life running, in some way or another, and that’s not going to vanish overnight because he has Michael. But he wants to stay, now. He wants to make a home with the man in front of him, wants to tie their lives together in every conceivable way and spend the rest of his days protecting Michael and making him happy. And that’s a pretty solid foundation on which to build.

Michael’s smile is wide and earnest in a way Alex has so rarely seen, and he drinks it in, promising himself that he’s going to take every opportunity to make Michael smile that way in the future.

And then, without overthinking, without worrying about what happens next, Alex closes the remaining distance between their bodies and seals their lips together in a hard, affirming kiss. Michael’s arms close around him, and Alex allows himself to melt into the warm, strong chest in front of him, content in the knowledge that Michael won’t let him fall.

For the first time since he went to war at eighteen, Alex Manes is officially home.

#alexweek2020 #alexappreciation2020 #my fic #malex fic #not a place but a feeling

113 notes · View notes

musicallydivine · 3 years ago

Text

[ID: A header reading "What Helps Me Write" in orange, capitalized text. The top half of the background is pastel green and the bottom half is pastel blue. On the left of the text is a sharpened number 2 pencil, and on the right of the text is a white eraser and an orange binder clip. /end ID]

As someone with ADHD and a busy schedule, it is often hard for me to get into the right mindset, or have enough time to write, even though it's something I love to do. Whether it be creative writing, or an assignment for one of my university courses, it can be hard to get started on writing, but once I start, I can't seem to stop.

Over the years, I've found a method that works for me, so I thought I would share it here so others who find they have similar struggles can try some of what I have found helps me! Hopefully, you'll find something here that works for you to, although chances of my entire process being what works for are slim, so make sure to try out other things too. After all, we're all different people who need and use different things!

1. The first thing I always do when I'm getting ready to write is find a quiet place with minimal distractions. This can be my bedroom or sunroom at home, my dorm room or practice room at college, someplace quiet outside such as a secluded area of a park. Wherever I won't have to worry about people interrupting me and where I am comfortable enough to focus.

2. Next, I set the mood for whatever it is I'm writing. Silence gives my brain too much room to wander, so I like to put on instrumental music to fill that void. The genre of music I put on depends on what I'm writing. If I'm working on an assignment that I need to crank out because it's due in a few hours and I had been neglecting to start on it, I put on a playlist of music from final boss battles in video games. If I'm writing something sad, I'll put on sad piano music. If I'm writing a fantasy story, I'll put on Renaissance music. Whatever I think will fit the mood of the story, to act almost as background music if the story were a movie playing out in my head.

3. I set alarms. This one may seem a bit weird, and might be unnecessary for some of you, but I often forget that there are other things that I need to do when I'm writing, such as eating, drinking, and going to the bathroom. So, I set alarms to remind me of these things. Every 10 minutes, I set an alarm to remind me to take a drink of water. Every hour, I set alarm to remind me to go to the bathroom, and every 2 hours, I set an alarm to remind me to eat something.

4. Now, we get to the actual writing part. To start writing, I go to writeordie.com. If I'm writing for an assignment, I set the word goal to that amount of words, or to the maximum amount of words if the assignment is over the maximum or I am writing for a creative project. I always set the grace period to 2 seconds, as this keeps me more on top of making sure I am writing instead of staring off into space. Then, I enable Kamikaze Mode and start writing. Note: there is a pause button, so if one of my alarms goes off or I need to look something up, I use that to my advantage.

5. Once I have met my word goal or have completed what I intended to write for the day, I save the word document that the website gives me and open up a new word document, formatted how I need it to be based on what I am writing. Instead of copying and pasting from the Write or Die word document into the new document, I retype everything and make minor edits to spelling and grammar as I retype.

6. I make another edit. Once everything is retyped into a new word document, I reread over it all, making even more edits and adjustments to the writing as I see fit. Sometimes there are errors that I did not find the first time, or new errors that had been made as I retyped everything.

7. I use the immersive reader option in the view tab of word to read aloud everything that I have written to me. This gives me a better feel for grammar and sentence structure, and helps me make my final edits.

8. After finishing up writing for a while, I like to celebrate with something! So, after I save my document and turn it in if it's an assignment, I get myself a treat. This can be anything from a bowl of ice cream to watching an episode or two of a show to going out to buy a donut or other treat for myself.

As I said before, this is just what works for me. There is no one right way to do anything, but hopefully my process can give you some inspiration or someplace to start figuring out your own writing process!

#writing #writeblr #writing advice

4 notes · View notes

warfstachenby · 4 years ago

Text

cgp egos headcanons

back in December I was writing a mostly slice-of-life fanfic about the cgp egos. I never finished it but I found my notes from it and since the cgp egos fandom has been getting some content lately I thought I’d post them. idk if I’ll ever return to this fic and finish it but we’ll see :] (this is my second time posting since tumblr wouldn’t put it in the tags >.<”)

Mike and Heapass are cousins. However, Mike’s parents weren’t around much when he was a kid so they grew up closely.

They kind of grow apart some time during Heap’s time at Happy Trails, through no fault of either of them.

It’s Mike’s apartment first. Sort of.

The building is old. Blank has been in that apartment for as long as he can remember. He didn’t used to be corporeal very often though.

When they first encounter each other, Blank wasn’t expecting Mike to be able to see him. Mike throws a vase at him in surprise. Somehow, they fall into familiarity.

Heap has chronic pain and EDS (+ is no stranger to breaking bones). Mike has chronic migraines. Desperation to quiet the pain was what first got them into dealing.

Blank also has chronic migraines, but can’t really medicate in any way :c

Mike’s ears are pierced.

When Heap eventually gets out of Happy Trails, Mike insists he stays with him for a while.

It takes nearly 3 weeks for Mike to convince Heap that the ‘ghost’ he keeps seeing whilst high is really there.

After that, Heap and Blank actually hit it off fairly well. Heap’s seen some weird shit - what’s a void ghost on top of that?

Thick, black liquid always leaks out of Blank’s eyes, but when he’s stressed he cries harder and more and the liquid is less vicous like human tears. His migraines also flare up. Depending on how much stress or panic he is undergoing, he can also make paintings/statues bleed/cry black; distort recorded video/audio; and make water run from faucets etc.

He also has a black mark over his heart. It bleeds out black that soaks through his shirt. But only when he’s in moments of despair.

Parker the Postman is their local postman and also lives in the same building, a few doors down. He and Mike are friends and have been for a while.

He and Blank become fast friends simply because of how normal Parker treated him when they first met.

Heap watches Neil Neilson’s religiously whilst high. Blank watches along and has come to genuinely enjoy it.

Mike prefers Warfstache Tonight.

Mike never seems to need to re-dye his hair.

Parker is the best at most video games.

Blank doesn’t really need to sleep, but does so anyway to kill time until Mike, Heap and Parker are awake again.

What he does isn’t really sleeping, it’s more like…… he just stops existing for 7 hours. But he doesn’t really have any other frame of reference, and it works for him.

Parker is studying robotics and dreams of building a robot. [In the fic this was how I was planning to eventually introduce Corroded Crank.]

Parker is a regional champion at gymnastics and takes mixed martial arts classes.

Heap is the best dancer.

Heap plays guitar and bass and Mike plays drums. When they were teens they briefly had a two-man emo punk band.

Despite this, Mike also loves 00′s dance/electronic music, r&b and almost anything that can be considered ‘scenecore.’ Heap also likes rap and anything similar to Marina and the Diamnds. Parker likes a lot of chart stuff, as well as folk and folk punk. And vocaloid.

Blank is still finding out what he likes but he’s really liked Hozier, Daughter, and Nina Simone so far.

Heap’s nails are bitten to shit. He paints them black. Blank’s nails are also black. He doesn’t.

Parker is loved by all the neighbourhood cats. They all hiss and arch their backs at Blank.

There’s a mirror in the closet that no one can remember buying. Its really hard to see in, and just looking at your reflection makes your stomach churn.

#crankgameplays #cgp egos #blankgameplays #mad mike #cgp mad mike #heapass #ahwm heapass #parker the postman #cgp parker #long post #drug mention #neo writes

44 notes · View notes

owoeditsthesmoluwu · 4 years ago

Text

Stare at the stars

Got this idea from a tumblr user called "im-tired-and-queer". Man it was hard to make myself only make this a drabble bit hey I like it!

___

Gilbert couldn't sleep, who would be able to when all he could hear was the shouting of his father on the phone with someone again. He rolled over in bed and put the pillow over his head, groaning and trying to sleep but it wasn't working. Ig was about one thirty in the morning when he finally gave up on sleep altogether. He slipped out of bed and took out his phone. He checked his messages, Ivan texted him about a project, Francis sent a dick pic to him on accident and Antonio sent pictures of turtle shaped pastries he had made with his brother nothing new.

He stretched and decided he'd head to 7/11 and get something. He flicked on his bedroom light and started getting dressed, skinny jeans, oversized sweatshirt he stole from a friend, neon green socks and a pair of crocs, he was all set. He strolled over to his vanity, he knew he wouldn't be back to sleep after this so he decided to have some fun and put on some makeup. After about half an hour he was set. He grabbed his keys, phone and wallet and headed down the hall. He was about to go down the stairs when a little voice stopped him "Gilbert?" Ludwig asked.

Gilbert looked over his shoulder at the little boy on pajamas "Shhhh, I'm going to 7/11, don't tell dad and I'll bring you something back" he told him. Ludwig rubbed his eyes tiredly and yawned "White chocolate bar and apple juice please" the little boy requested. Gilbert snickered to himself and nodded "Alright how crawl back into bed now" he instructed and watched Ludwig stroll back to his bedroom.

He walked down the staircase, careful not to alert the dogs or hit any creaking stairs. He grabbed a house key and headed out the back door. He shudderd as the cold air hit his face. He huffed and could see his breath. It reminded him of being small and pretending to be a dragon, that was a nice feeling. He strolled around the house to the driveway and got into his best up old car. He crawled inside and started it, cranking the heat up all the way while knowing damn Well it would take fifteen minutes to warm up. He looked around his car, it was clean as he could keep it while driving his friends home from school. (Which means it smelled a little like weed and had a few monster cans in the cup holders) He pulled out of the driveway and down the road he went.

It took about ten minutes to get to the convenience store, he checked his pockets to make sure his wallet was still there and got out of the car. Walking inside the store was nice, it was warm and the glow of the white lights wasn't to harsh on his eyes, he waved to the familiar face at the register "Aye Mattias what are you doing up at this hour?" He asked. "I could ask you the same Gil, what do you need? And no I'm not getting you booze or cigarettes" the tall dane said to him. Gilbert rolled his eyes "I dont want that's stuff I just want some snacks and a pop" he said.

He strolled through the isle, quickly grabbing Ludwig his apple juice and candy bar along with a pack of gummy worms as an extra treat. He grabbed himself a mountain dew and some chips and headed to check out. "So, you going out there again?" Mattias asked as he scanned the snacks. Gilbert nodded "Yeah, gonna look at the stars and clear my head for a bit, kept the change" he said and handed him a ten. Matt smiled "Thanks, I'll see you in biology" he chimmed as Gilbert walked out of the store.

Gilbert turned on a radio station and sat in his car for awhile as it heated up, eating his chips and wiping his hands with a napkin, he couldnt have oil getting in his steering wheel. After another fifteen minutes of a jam session in his car with the radio he started driving again. He merged onto the dirt road and cranked up the music when he wasn't near any houses since he wasn't disrespectful and fudnt want to wake anyone up. As be drive it was just him and his music, it felt great.

He squinted as his destination came into focus. The hill, the hill that he used go play on, ride bikes on, watch the stars, and nearly get struck by lightning. All that childhood fun. He parked his car on the side of the road and grabbed his pop. He unbuckled and locked his car, made sure he had everything on him and headed up the hill, of course it wouldn't be Gilbert if he didn't have some indie spotify playlist running in his phone as he made his way up the tall hill.

When he had made it to the top of the hill he shivered, it was still cold as balls out but the no sleep mixed with the feeling of being ontop of the world made it all worth it. The feeling of drowsiness mixed with realism made him feel free. It was the perfect angle, he could see the city street lights just out if reach, he could look above him at the stars. He sat down and sipped his drink, laying on his back he stared to at the heavenly bodies made of fire and gas and smiled.it felt nice and calming, the feeling he had been searching for

#hetalia #aph #aph prussia #hws prussia #fanfic #drabble

12 notes · View notes

mhdiaries · 5 years ago

Photo

Wave 1 Draculaura Diary

4♥July

Another great day to be alive... okay technically it’s a great day to be undead but it’s still a great day and I’m going to enjoy it.

15♥July

It rained today which means I didn’t have to wear so much sunscreen when I went out for a walk. It’s also nice for my garden. Mmmm fresh tomatoes, carrots and lettuce. Count Fabulous loves it too - not the vegetables but all the bugs they attract, it’s like a bug buffet for a bat.

21♥July

Father “surprised” me by buying my school clothes this year. I love my father but you’d think after 1,599 years he’d realize there’s more to fashion than whalebone corsets and black velvet lined hooded capes. At least he left the tags on everything this year so I can return it all for something splashed with a little color. I reeeaaallly hope he didn’t bite the clerks this time. That’s sooo gross and embarrassing.

26♥July

We got new human neighbors today which I thought was a little strange cause my father is kind of intimidating to humans... and monsters too actually, but it doesn’t seem to bother Mrs. Jekyll, and her son Jackson Jekyll who is my age... well, I mean technically he’s really not but we’re going to be in the same class. When he gets moved in I’m going to give him the entire lowdown on Monster High.

7♥August

I took a casketberry pie over to the Jekyll’s today as a haunted house warming gift and Jackson answered the door. Wow! He is scary cute and really sweet. I got bats in my stomach an ghost bumps just standing there talking to him. I don’t know what it is but there’s something a little mysterious about him.... I like it!

15♥August

Clawdeen Wolf came over yesterday. We were supposed to be going through my closets to collect some of my out of date fashion and give them away to Ghoul Will. It also gave me a chance to give some of them away to Clawdeen. She has a big family and I have almost 1600 years of clothing - it would be selfish of me not to share with my best friend. Clawdeen has a lot of pride though and so I had to combine the two. After we pulled out a bunch we cranked the music and started trying outfits. We had such a good time that it woke father up. What a grump! Anyway, I can’t believe chain mail was ever in style. It’s so 15th century. Of course Clawdeen looked fabulous in it.

17♥August

Jackson came over tonight to return my pie plate. Father got to the door before I could and totally went all Transylvania on him. “Good evening. Vat can I do for you?”

I was like “Oh no!” but then Jackson asked to borrow a hammer cause he needed to drive a stake into something. It flustered my dad so much I think he turned a shade whiter. Then Jackson said, “Gotcha!” and my dad regained his composure, barely. “Draculaura you have a visitor!” Later on I heard father muttering something about Jackson being more than he appears to be. I don’t know about that but he is sweet, funny, cute and not afraid of my father! Perfect!

23♥August

I went to The Maul with Clawdeen Wolf today to exchange some of the new school clothes father got me. We met Mrs. Stein and her new daughter Frankie Stein while we were there. Frankie is going to be in our class at Monster High and her mother was taking her back-to-school shopping. Mrs. Stein is really, really sweet but her fashion sense is well... not really current. Anyway, we were able to rescue Frankie for a couple of hours and show her the best of what this century’s fashions had to offer. We had a great time and Frankie Stein is definitely built for fashion. I think Clawdeen might have even been a little jealous... I also suggested that Frankie should try out for the fearleading squad! She was really excited about that and I think we’re all going to be great friends.

24♥August

Cleo de Nile was unhappy with me because I had to miss fearleading practice this morning =( but Count Fabulous got another mothball and I had to take him to the vet. I scolded him for being such a pig but he looked so miserable I couldn’t be mad at him for long. If he’s not going to be a vegetarian he should at least stick to eating something smaller like gnats or mosquitoes.

25♥August

So my Sweet 1600 birthday is coming up soon which I’m really looking forward to but it also means something I am not looking forward to and this is having “The Talk” with my father. We do this every year around my birthday and it usually bums me out for at least a couple of days. “The Talk” goes like this, “Draculaura I have been extremely tolerant of your keeping daytime hours, our friendship with that pack of mangy werewolves and your insistence on being happy. But I believe it is imperative that you return to your roots and give this ridiculous idea that a vampire can be a vegetarian. It is unnatural, un-monster like and I think it is time you return to what you once were.” Then he stands there with his arms crossed looking very serious.

I used to get mad and tell him that it was my life and I could choose to live it however I wanted to, which caused an even bigger fight, but then I started just giving him a kiss on the cheek and big hug which totally disarms him and he doesn’t bring it up for another year. My father is the most scary cool monster ever and I know it’s hard on him, but being my own monster makes me happy and I’m never going back to the way I used to be.

29♥August

Jackson Jekyll asked if I wanted to go for a walk with him today which was totally creeperific until he asked me to bite him! I thought he was just kidding but he was totally serious. When I asked him why, he said it was because he didn’t want to be the only human at Monster High and that if he were a vampire he would fit in and we could hang out. He was so sweet about it but I told him why I became a vegetarian and how that meant I couldn’t possibly bite him. I could tell he was disappointed but I told him just because he was human didn’t mean he wouldn’t fit in or that we couldn’t hang out. That seemed to make him feel a little better but I don’t think he’s giving up on the idea of me biting him.

1♥September

I just finished working on a newsletter for V.A.M.P. which stands for Vampires Advocating Meatless Proteins. I put in some recipes, a short story and some poetry. I think it’s a great organization although I’m the only member so far. I even gave a copy to father who circled some spelling errors and gave it back to me. Well, at least he read it close enough to find mistakes!

5♥September

Clawdeen Wolf’s family always has an end of the summer boo-b-que and they always invite me even though, in the past, our families haven’t always gotten along but since Clawdeen and I are like best monster friends forever I always get invited. Of course they are all like total carnivores so I usually bring my own food. At least they don’t tease me... too much... about the tofu dogs and veggie burgers I bring =). This year I invited Jackson Jekyll to go with me and I think he had a good time although Clawdeen has a really big family and they can be pretty rowdy when they’re all together.

6♥September

As much fun as I had at the cook out yesterday, it was still a sign that summer is ending and school is about to start. I mean I don’t dislike school and I love seeing all my friends every day but there’s nothing like summer time and the freedom of just being able to do whatever I want whenever I want to.

#monster high #monster high diary #draculaura #wave 1

113 notes · View notes

t100ficrecsblog · 4 years ago

Text

an interview with @changingthefairy-tale

What are you working on right now? Right now, I’m focused on BellarkeFic-for-BLM (I just got an amazing canon prompt I’m really excited to finish). I’ve also been participating in this round of the Chopped Challenge, which has been fun and challenging. In between prompts, I’ve got two WIPs that I’m slowly cranking through. Shoutout to every single reader who’s been incredibly patient while I’ve been so slow on those updates — though, reminder that you can donate to a BLM organization (even a $3 donation works) and request an update to get those higher on my prio list while I’m focused on that initiative.

What’s something you’d like to write one day? My absolute dream job and the ultimate goal is to become a showrunner for a prime time TV show. I love TV shows — I love the way actors and directors and crew take a script and breath life into it, I love how you take a general idea for a story and mold it into something amazing as you go, I love how a series gives a story more time to be fleshed out and explored, I love the concept of a writers room and collaborating on a story. It’s a different ballgame from fic writing (which I do for fun) and travel writing (which I do for a living), but I’m determined to make it happen. JRoth, I’m coming for your job, babe. 😉

What is the fanwork you’re most proud of? I’m still really new to fic writing, especially compared to some of the powerhouse writers in this fandom. And I’m sure one of my WIPs (when finished) will probably supersede this. BUT, my one-shot about Madi calling Bellamy on The Ring (She called you for 2,199 days) is something I’m really proud of. I’m a long-winded writer, so one-shots have never come naturally to me. This one just…clicked. It’s got some good lines in there that I’m proud of, and based on the feedback I’ve gotten, it really made readers feel something and connect to the story. It’s not my longest story or my most thought-out. But it shows my growth as a writer these past few months, and I’m proud of that.

Why did you first start writing fic? I started writing fic as a creative outlet for my writing. My day job is writing about travel and credit cards. And while I enjoy that, it’s just not as creative. My dream is to write for a TV show though, and I was craving a way to flex my creative writing muscles in a low-stress way. I started watching The 100 when it first came out, but I didn’t really get into the fandom until I came back to the show during the S5/6 hiatus. That’s when I started reading fics and reblogging stuff about the show on Tumblr. During the S6/7 hiatus, I had this idea for a Greys Anatomy AU, and my sister (who is also a major fan of the show) was like, “You literally write things for a living. If you want to write a Grey’s AU for t100, there is absolutely nothing stopping you.” I published my first chapter on that The Choices We Make in Dec. 2019, and the rest is history.

What frustrates you most about fic writing? For me, I think that the most frustrating thing isn’t even about fic writing itself; it’s the fact that it’s a side-hobby and not something I can dedicate my full attention to. When you write all day for your day job, then do some for your freelance gig, and then turn around and try to write for a few hours every night for fic… that gets hard sometimes — especially since starting quarantine where I’m not traveling, going out with friends, getting a break from it, etc. Fic writing is a creative release for me, and I absolutely love crafting and writing these stories that involve some of my favorite fictional characters. And I love interacting with other writers and fic readers, I love talking about ideas and exchanging headcanons and fangirling over my favorite writers’ works. But (because there’s always a but), sometimes I just don’t have the mental energy or capacity to write at the end of the day when I’ve turned in 3 deadlines for work. I’ve got all these ideas floating in my head, but only so much time and mental energy I can dedicate to it.

What are your top five songs right now? Oh boy. So I live alone, which means I’ve got either music or Netflix on in the background 24/7 because ya girl doesn’t like silence. I have a different playlist for different moods. I’ll share my fav song from each of those playlists. Lol Fvck Somebody by The Wrecks (On my “Summer state of mind” playlist for when I wanna dance it out in my kitchen like an idiot)

Don Quixote by Drapht (On @talistheintrovert’s “My Good Bitch Murphy” playlist for when I’m feeling *edgy*)

that way by Tate McRae (On my “Pandemic Jams” playlist bc I like angsty music and this song is a Bellarke MOOD)

Washington on Your Side from Hamilton (On my “Feeding my Broadway Obsession” playlist for when I wanna sing show tunes and plot overthrowing the government)

Tea by Noah Davis (Shameless plug for Noah bc it’s a bop and I literally dated Noah’s older brother in junior high — so proud of this kid for making his dreams a reality)

What are your inspirations (books, songs, other fic, really good cake)? All of the above, except I like pie more than cake. lol But really, I kind of use everything around me for inspiration. “The Choices We Make” is inspired by my love of Grey’s Anatomy. “Intertwining your soul (with somebody else)” is inspired my the first draft of my YA novel (though the setting was adapted to a grounder canonverse AU). “The Day He Shut That Rocket Door” and “She called you for 2,199 days” were inspired by @historyofbellarke‘s headcanons that were brought up in S7 speccing conversations (shoutout to her for enabling my angsty ass). My most recent WIP “There are some things written in the stars” that I started as part of Chopped (but will continue because I’m obsessed with the idea) is inspired by my love of Timeless. And I have an entire Notion database filled with fic ideas — some one-shots and some multi-chapter fics — that are inspired by quotes, songs, conversations with friends, books I love, shows I adore, random HCs that pop into my head while I watch, my own life experiences, etc. I take inspiration in any form it decides to come in. 💕

What first attracted you to Bellarke? What attracts you now? I’m a ho for enemies to lovers — the idea that you can put your worst foot forward and show someone all the ugly parts of you… and that they’ll see that and somehow look past it to see the good stuff too, falling in love with your whole self instead of just the pretty parts. Yeah, it’s my favorite romance trope. And that tension is what originally drew me to Bellarke. Now, it’s a combination of things. I love each of these characters in their own right. I relate to Clarke in a lot of ways, and I aspire to be her level of badass. I straight adore Bellamy Blake (flaws, stupid decisions, and all) and would marry him in a heartbeat if he were real — I’m not even kidding. lol But I also love their dynamic. They are partners, best friends, perfect compliments to the other. They see each other in a way no one else does, and they are the one person the other constantly risks everything for. They are both so driven by their responsibilities to their people, yet that all typically goes out the window the moment the other is at risk. I don’t believe in soulmates in real life, but it’s nice to get to believe in this fictional world that they are just made for each other.

BESIDES Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? My favorite character besides Bellarke is John Murphy. His arc has been BY FAR the best on this show, going from that little shit in S1 to this “asshole we love” in the middle to now a true hero in this final season. And through it all Richard Harmon has been amazing to watch on screen.

My favorite pairing besides Bellarke is Linctavia. Yes, that ship is problematic in a lot of ways, but I still loved their dynamic. Lincoln helped Octavia navigate this new world that she was so desperate to be apart of while being mindful of her safety. And I thought they were a good match — he helped tame her fire without putting it out, and she helped challenge the way he was raised. Given time, I think they could have become one of the most stable and loving relationships on t100. Of course, that couldn’t happen because Jason needed Bell’s actions in 3A to have heartbreaking consequences, O to spiral for her own character journey, and whatever mess happened off-screen between Ricky and him. But they still remain my favorite ship aside from Bellarke.

Why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? The second I saw that Sam was planning on doing this, I reached out to ask how I could help/write/be involved. The BLM movement is so important, and this is an amazing way for me to contribute while pursuing my passions. It’s a way for the fandom to get involved and do something good. And ultimately, this helps organizations that need donations. Shameless plug for everyone to please go check out the Bellarke Fic for BLM page — check out the many amazing writers and artists we have participating, and send in prompts. Most of us are allowing WIP chapter update requests, and there are a number of us (myself included) who are matching donations made! No donation is too small, and you’ll be supporting a movement that is a necessity in the U.S. and beyond.

What’s your writing process like? My mind is literal chaos, so I plan and outline like hell in order to make sense of everything. When I get an idea for a fic, it goes on my Notion database. Within Notion, I write down my inspiration for the idea, and a pretty in-depth summary of where I want the fic to go — dialogue ideas, any feelings/emotions I want to invoke, literally just a brain dump of all my ideas. From there, I’ll arrange that brain dumb into an outline. If it’s a one-shot, I’ll generally write the whole thing in the Notion doc. But multi-chapter fics will get a checklist within Notion for me to keep track of progress, and I’ll actually write the fic in Google Docs. I generally start writing from the beginning of a story, but if I get stuck or have an idea for a later scene, the fact that I’ve outlined heavily allows me to jump around as ideas come to me. I’ll read each one-shot or chapter after I’m done to make sure it flows before publishing. I post chapters for my WIPs as I write them, which I should really stop doing. lol For my readers’ sakes, I should work ahead and publish on a schedule rather than making them wait for my slow ass to finish chapter to chapter. But right now, that’s my process!

What are some things you’d like to recommend? Oh goodness, too many fics to possibly name. Instead, I’ll link to my AO3 rec bookmarks (which isn’t all-inclusive of the amazing fics I’ve read in this fandom, but it’s got some good favs in there) and shout out all of our awesome Bellarke Fic for BLM writers. Y’all should check out their work (and send in prompts)!

Where’s the best place to find you (twitter? tumblr?) I’m @changingthefairy-tale on Tumblr and @changingthefairy_tale on AO3! My ask box is always open for anyone who wants to scream about the show, ask about specs, talk about my fics, etc. Come say hey!

#bellarkefic for blm #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #john murphy #bellarke #bellarkefic for blm interviews

19 notes · View notes

batfamily--headcanons · 5 years ago

Text

Advice for Finishing University Work Right Now

This obviously isn’t Batfam related, but given the situation the world is in right now and that this is where I have the biggest platform (still can’t quite wrap my head around seeing that 5000 number), I’m posting it here.

If you’re like me, you’ve been forced to complete your school year online (this is advice from a university student in regards to my classes, but it could totally apply to high school work too) and working from home during a pandemic is not the easiest thing in the world as we’ve all learned. So here’s how I’ve been coping and what I’ve figured out since I started online classes.

1. It really doesn’t matter what you wear. I’m seeing all these people saying to get dressed like you’re actually going to school and that does not matter. For some people, that works, but I used to do all my assignments in my dorm in my pajamas long before this happened. Although, it might help to take a shower and put on some clean PJs, but you don’t need to dress up for this.

2.Don’t beat yourself up for not being as productive as you usually are. We’re in the middle of a fucking pandemic and that shit is traumatizing. Even if you feel fine, studies have shown that this amount of stress makes your brain work differently. So, it’s not your fault and you shouldn’t feel guilty about it.

3. Find a place to work that works for you. Because I had to move out of the dorms, I’m now back home at my parents’ house and the thing I miss the most is my desk. My big, beautiful desk. It was L shaped and took up almost the entire back wall so there was plenty of room for my laptop, my books, my printer, and a few snacks. I don’t have that at home. We have two desks and neither of them is wide enough to fit both my computer and my textbook. I’ve had to get creative and I turned my couch into a makeshift desk while I sat in my moon chair with a lap desk. They say not to work in bed, but if your bedroom is the only place quiet enough to study in right now, use it.

4. If it doesn’t distract you, crank up the music when studying. Personally, the only way that I can concentrate is when I have the music as loud as it can go and I’m singing along. It makes working a little less boring. I’ve created an entire playlist just for this and it’s full of the most upbeat songs that I know the best so that I don’t even have to think of the lyrics when singing. Music is a great stress-reliever and it can help your mind from wandering and thinking about the reason that you now have to work from home.

5. Procrastination is going to happen. Just because many of us have nothing but time, it doesn’t mean that we’re able to use it to work. Like I said, this shit is traumatizing and stressful. Every day, the prime minister of my country does a press conference and I watch it every day and in the hours after watching it, I don’t do anything. Some days, you are going to feel terrible and on those days, don’t try to work. Some days, you’ll feel more alert and like yourself again. Spend those days enjoying it and getting some work done too, but not so much that it ruins your mood.

6. If you don’t feel like doing the actual assignment but feel like doing something, go through your notes/course material and highlight/make notes on what you’re going to do your assignment on. For example, I’m doing a paper for my poetry class and yesterday I wasn’t feeling up to writing so I highlighted quotes from the poems that I can use as evidence to back up my thesis. I also found an academic article to use as a source for my paper as well. It’s helped tremendously because now I know my topic and have the evidence right here in front of me so all I have to do is write without interrupting myself to find one of those things.

7. Take breaks!!!! I have never in my life taken a break from working on an assignment unless it was to eat and even then, I forget to do so a lot. However, ever since I’ve been home, I cannot work for hours straight with no break. That’s partly because I don’t have a proper area to study in and partly because my brain is preoccupied with my constant anxiety and fear. Also, when you are literally in pain from looking down at screen or from being hunched over a book for hours at a time, take a break. Don’t “power through” because you have to do this. Being in pain mentally or physically is a reason to stop.

8. No amount of study tips will get you motivated if you are not in a good place mentally so stop torturing yourself by scrolling through them on tumblr and feeling like shit about yourself because you aren’t as productive as everyone you see online. I say this from personal experience. Plus most of these study tips I see going around are way too fake and overly optimistic for my tastes. That’s why I wrote these down, because they’re honest and they’re real. They view this situation as a goddamn vacation when in reality, it’s a tragedy. A shower and a change of clothes is not going to fix your life, especially now. You not being productive right now isn’t laziness or lack of motivation, it’s because of your mental health.

Hope this helps in some way. I’m just doing the best I can under the circumstances and it’s taken me a while to come to terms with the fact that this isn’t lack of motivation and to stop blaming myself for not getting anything done. Stay safe, everyone!

#studying from home #studying tips #quarantine #not batfam #reece rambles

49 notes · View notes

amandajeanwrites · 4 years ago

Text

The End of an Era

Seven years ago, yes count those, SEVEN years ago, in late 2014, at the peak of internet fashion hauls and makeup tutorials, during the rise of YouTube and Pinterest and Tumblr, I moved from podunk Montana to the big urban areas in and around Portland, Oregon. Portlandia was airing, hipsters were growing mustaches and wearing plaid on a global scale, and I was ready to drink craft beer and breathe in as much pine scent as I could muster.

I wanted to be a Blogger or a Vlogger. I wanted to talk about travel, but also film, but also also makeup and fashion because I was growing into my fashionista-ness. I wanted to infiltrate little boutiques and hold events and start social media campaigns, you know, really get ahead of the curve. So my first(ish) job when I moved out here was working as a sales associate for a tiny boutique.

Now, this boutique was a chain based in Austin or Houston or something, so I wasn’t going to head their social media anytime soon, and I was just working as a lowly sales associate at minimum wage, and I’m pretty sure I only worked about twenty hours to start out, but I had confidence in myself and my abilities to grow up and out.

God, I remember during my interview, I wore this NEON FLORAL swing dress that I’d bought in Portland with my Mom that July, paired with a neon sports bra that matched the colors in the dress, all topped off with a God awful cobalt blue cropped cardigan and probably some glitter-embellished shoes. For those of you who have grown to love and appreciate my new sense of style (emo-chic), you’ll understand how mind-boggling that would have been. Oh God, I probably also had matching neon lipstick and eyeliner or something.

The point is, I was young and adorable and confident in my skin and my outfit decisions. I remember panicking throughout the interview, noticing bright colors on the racks of the stock room over the manager’s head and just talking about how much I loved color… the ENTIRE interview. It’s honestly a miracle she hired me.

The reason I’m talking about this now, and the reason it’s all come surging back into my memory so damn vividly, is because Sean and I were walking through that little shopping center over the weekend (the entire mall has been and always will be one of my favorite places in my area), and we walked by this little boutique to see it’s Closing. We hopped in and bought four pairs of earrings as a last donation to the cause, and I immediately felt bitter sweet and melancholy and nostalgic for everything I learned and did there.

I talk about my outfits, my prospects at that time in my life, to reflect on just how much I’ve grown. I was so young, on the edge of 23, and I moved away from home for the very first time. I dragged my boyfriend along with me, and we overstayed our welcome at my Grandma’s. I actually remember driving the 40 minutes to work and 40 minutes back in the middle of the night, fog coating the road and my car, cranking One Direction’s Four album. (A premonition that Zayn was leaving, don’t we think!?)

I was experimenting with a social media presence, with blogging, with fashion and makeup, absorbing everything I could. I explored Portland and the surrounding areas. We went to the coast constantly. I just wanted to get out and see the world, be whoever I didn’t think I could back home. I was making new friends and trying to figure out who I was without college or Musicals or the country western bars or Perkins.

The biggest issues I had were suburban Moms from Lake Oswego that wheeled strollers through our claustrophobic boutique, knocking breakables off the gift table and then scoffing at us before they left. I spent hours irritated with my boss for being a controlling 25-year-old (an actual child). I clung to the drama of my past, not understanding how to be without thinking of how much my hometown had “wronged me”. Dear God, I was dramatic.

I had prejudices, against suburban Moms! And against sex workers and against hipsters and against Big City people that didn’t understand Little City people and against Little City people that didn’t understand me.

I talked too much and didn’t work hard. My only real memories of actual work from that boutique were untangling the God damn necklaces, which TRUST me was an 8 hour task. Mainly, though, we dusted the room for the 40th time and gossiped about senseless things like boyfriends that wouldn’t hurry up and propose already! (Sean did two and a half years later.)

I met my best friend there, unexpectedly. I remember meeting her and thinking she was way too cool for me. She’s stunning, hip, knows how to style a French tuck, and she seemed to rule the boutique in a way that I couldn’t ever match. The actual manager hated it too, always trying to undermine her to appear superior. None of us could live up to the grace and beauty that was Rochelle.

We bonded over our hatred for retail and our love for One Direction and YouTube and conspiracy theories, and I’m so so glad we did. I also met at least three of my other best friends as an extension, and if any of you are reading this, I love you all.

I took up writing again in 2014. First, little blog pieces, like I mentioned before. I wrote about my favorite products and all the places I wanted to visit in Oregon (some of them, I still haven’t crossed off my list. Sean? Get the car!). But then, something in me whispered that I needed to try creative writing again. I don’t think I’d written a story for years, not since freshman year of college when I’d write dramatic love stories about the boys I had crushes on. (Do you remember that, Aubrie? So embarrassing!)

So I sat down, the day after Christmas, at my grandma’s countertop, and I decided to start writing a tiny piece of fiction every single day for a year. That was my goal, just a year. Until I couldn’t stop. I think I did just over 550 days, and even then, I never thought that someday I’d call myself a “writer”. I was still working retail, planning on social media management and fashion blogging, at a different boutique and a different stage in my life. But that’s a story for another time.

I guess the point of all this, the reminiscing and nostalgia, is that if I could go back and pay that girl a visit, walk into that store and help her untangle those necklaces, I’d tell her her colored mascara is fierce and that she should keep at it. I’d tell her that someday, she would laugh at all of the drama from back home. I’d tell her that she’d move on to bigger and better jobs, and she’d kick ass at them until she realized her true calling. I’d tell her to keep writing because nothing will make her happier. I’d tell her to buy less furniture, because she’s going to be in that apartment too damn long.

But mostly, I’d tell her that time moves on and people change and interests change and the weather changes, so just have a total blast with everything you’re doing right now, in the moment. I want to look back in another 7 years with twice the amount of fondness, knowing that I was struggling with silly, minute qualms that won’t matter then. Knowing how much I’ve grown and learned and shaped, I can’t wait to see how much I’ll grow and learn and shape in the future.

Although, I do hope, in 7 years, I’m still wearing strictly black and white. Hahaha!

What were you wearing in 2014? It’s important I know.

Thank you so much for sticking around all of these years and putting up with me and supporting me. And thank you, as always, for reading xo

#writeblr #time capsule #end of an era #nostalgia post #looking back #seven years ago #2014

2 notes · View notes

jlf23tumble · 4 years ago

Text

Top 10 Niche Interests

Fixations? Obsessions? This is incredibly hard because I have wayyyy too many niche interests, so instead of stressing about it, I tried to channel the 10 things that immediately speak to me and maybe aren't so obvious from what I post here, like how much I'm obsessed with wigs, doll furniture, incredibly specific blogs, all forms of clothing with pockets, swimming pools, whimsical bus stops, over-the-top bathrooms, etc. etc Instead, I opted for some specifics that feel a little more evergreen and long tailed, like, so LIFE-long tailed that it's tough to nail down when or how they became part of the national psyche. I thank @alienfuckeronmain for the initial tag, and I'm tagging her AGAIN for round two because I know she has a billion additional niche things, and she'll post them, and I'll scream because it'll trigger five other things I neglected to post here, and I'll probably post my own round two, arggggh, insert aggressive sighing. Anyway, I tag ANYONE who wants to do it, just tag me so I can see!

1. Indoor Trees

I have no idea why this concept PULLS so hard because houseplants are kind of meh to me, but you want to plant an entire-ass TREE indoors, in the place where you live? Me, too, and I'd add a conversation pit plus a combo gold/red bathroom, among other things, and, bam, we're in my imaginary dream home, which I have literally, constantly ALWAYS mentally constructed from the time I was about six or so. (If you're curious, it has multiple themed rooms, and the closest I've seen to it recently is the outstanding Dita von Teese AD feature, but Amy Sedaris’s apartment comes close, too). There are two (2) 1960s houses in Long Beach with magnificent indoor trees, but I can't find them online, so have this modern interpretation and cry with me about how I can't visit the multi-story fake tree inside Clifton's Cafeteria for a good long while:

2. Conventions of Fans of Any Kind

One thing that I don't think I'll ever lose is how much I *love* people who are fans of SOMETHING, people who have a passion and create something about it or cosplay it or simply gather to celebrate it and connect to other people through it. The Internet provides in all kinds of ways, but I'm talking specifically about IRL conventions and the way my heart pitter pats when I first walk in those doors, SWOON! And it doesn’t matter how big the convention is or how random, I've been to smaller events like CatCon and the My Little Pony convention all the way up to biggies like WonderCon and Comic Con, and I have yet to be disappointed. I might know jack shit about what I'm walking into, but I want to see the merch, hear about the panels, and check out the people who are fucking PUMPED to be there. Sadly, I think it's gonna be a lonnnnng time until these come back, but I can live vicariously through my old photos, sigh:

3. Dutch Wax Fabrics and African Fashion

I'm not the snazziest of dressers, but textiles, colors, and patterns have been an obsession that has soothed my visual soul for as long as I can literally remember. Wax fabric marries all three of those touchpoints, plus throws in a healthy dose of style, and I count myself lucky to have seen two big exhibits on the subject (this was one of them), oh, how I wish there were more! For sure, there's a fucked up underlying colonial/imperialist history here, but there's also humor and color and vibrancy, a reclamation of sorts, and multiple levels of fashion that take my breath away. I cannot do the different patterns justice at all, but the fan motif is one of my faves:

4. Hearst Castle vs. Madonna inn

These two fall into my #home tag because they're where I'm from, and they speak to me as equally sublime and ridiculous, camp and kitsch writ large and small, different (yet similar!) versions of Xanadu that two rich white men built as shrines to their own personal "taste." And the irony is that a lot of people shit on Alex Madonna for being tacky (the Madonna Inn is...uh, something else), yet praise WR Hearst for all the high-class art and architecture, most of which is fully lifted from desperate churches between and after world and yet they're both more or less the same concept (lodging for weary travelers, self-aggrandizement, questionable taste-mixing). Hearst Castle edges out slightly for me because it's bigger and has spectacular scenery and history, plus it gives me doses of LA noir thanks to the way Hearst killed a guy in a jealous Charlie Chaplin-related rage and Hedda Hopper covered it up, all kinds of old Hollywood shenanigans happened up there, etc. But I'm low-key an expert on both houses of the holy, I'm OBSESSED with both, and we can leave it at that. I mean, come on:

5. Snow Globes

I had to cull my personal collection slightly just to fit it all on the dedicated shelf in my bathroom, and I seriously need to refill all the water lines, but nothing beats a snow globe in terms of memorable souvenir, especially when you put it in a bathroom. The majesty!!! The jewel of my collection is the one from Sherwood Forest because WHY NOT celebrate a historic place and moment in the basic way?? He robbed from the rich to give to the poor, and the gift shop about 100 feet from the tree he hid in does the same! The circle of life! The irony of all the watermarks on this blessed image...protect:

6. Highly Specific Museums

Look, we can all agree that the more venerated museums in the world are a form of garbage in terms of what they represent, what they've done, and who runs them, but I'm here for the museums that collect and celebrate things that tend to get overlooked. There are too many to list that I love that are still thriving, so I'm going to say goodbye to four recently departed faves. RIP to the Pez museum, I'm so glad I saw you and purchased your stale candy souvenirs. RIP to the museum of terrible food, you were a pop up when Phoenix and I saw you, and I will forever think about the worker describing people literally vomiting during their visits. RIP to the currywurst museum in Berlin, I've had currywurst exactly once and it was not for me, but I respect the Journey you took me on, including obscure east German TV shows that helped make you so popular (??). Finally, RIP to the velvet painting museum, there's no way to mince words, the person who owned you was crazy AS FUCK and had zero clue how to run a business, but I'm so glad I saw you multiple times and purchased my own velvet treasure (not this exact one, but remarkably similar):

7. Liminal Spaces: Grocery Store Edition

Confession time for those who don't know me all that well, I'm a big time voyeur, and nothing fills my heart with joy like a walk at 7 or 8 pm, the witching hour when people haven't pulled the curtains, and I can scope out their decorations/furnishings without it being "weird." Another confession is how much I unabashedly adore grocery stores in other countries and will spend at least an hour wandering aisle by aisle, falling in love with how much everything is different yet completely the same:

8. Agatha Christie Novels:

As a child, I was a fairly compliant reader--I had to read something for school? Okay! For my mom? Sounds good! But the books that sparked the initial fire for me to read something purely for myself were second-hand (probably fourth- or fifth-hand, judging by cover art) Agatha Christie short story anthologies, which were the gateway drug to full Agatha Christie novels, then other mystery novels, and so on. But getting back to Agatha, I obviously loved all the stories, but every decade spawned incredibly good cover art (like, exceptionally good), and this particular artist's are right up near the top for me (I go back and forth on a lot of the '50s and '60s ones):

9. Scopitones

I link my obsession with scopitones both to my love of music videos in general and a shop in Austin, TX, that sold DVD compilations of them in particular, but either way, they're underappreciated and kitschy all in one! Francoise Hardy and the rest of the ye-ye's are my forever girls for this medium, but seemingly every country cranked them out, both actual set videos and "live" performances? If you don't know what they are, scopitones were machines that played music videos in French cafes in the '60s (??), so it was sort of your proto-MTV way to see your faves sing and dance. Oh, Francoise...so moderne!!

10. Cover Songs

I have so much patience and love for cover songs of any stripe, the more genre-bending and/or surprising, the better! My only minor beef is the trend in slooooooooowing down songs to make a point, but even those ones have a special place in my heart if they're effective. Live Lounge feeds my hunger the best, but my meta fave for representing this concept is Pulp's Bad Cover Version, which was already lyrically INSPIRED, a song about bad cover versions in terms of relationships, but then they did a video that was a visual "bad" cover version, with actors lip synching over an audio "bad" cover version, and all of it just worked? The cover for the single is someone in the band as a boy, making his own bad cover version of a Bowie album cover, it's meta meta meta, and I love love love, here's the video, if you're curious. In the more sublime cover category, I'm absolutely addicted to all of Orville Peck's covers, I truly hope he officially releases them sometime soon, but I wholeheartedly support any artist who does it:

#tag games #niche interests #god i have a few

15 notes · View notes

animeniacss · 4 years ago

Text

A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!YN - Chapter 1 - Being a Professional

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU,

Length: approx. 4.6k words

Chapter 1 - Being a Professional

Art was subjective. Many people can see a film, pictures, video games, paintings, music, all of it, yet each person could leave with a different view of it to share with their peers. It provides chances of expression, different outlooks on multiple various exciting topics. Art could also help you make a lot of money if it piqued the interest of a particular group...you know, and if the artist was on time to the FUCKING ART SHOW!

Jimin’s eyes frantically scanned the entrance of the show, as people filed in and out, yet none of them was the person he was hoping would arrive. It had been a half an hour since the art show began, and Jimin had been making small talk with the attendees, high-end businessmen and women who were looking for the right art piece to hang in one of their many living rooms. However, they couldn’t purchase anything unless the artist was at the venue. Which, as of 7:35 p.m., he was not!

“Are you alright, Mr. Park?” A man asked, making the brunette turn his head. Before Jimin, stood the most important man in the room, the one that allowed Jimin to be standing on these marble floors at all. And he was here, with Jimin.

Waiting.

“You keep looking at the door. Don’t tell me your date stood you up.” Jimin couldn’t help but laugh a bit, taking a sip of his champagne.

“No, no.” He said. “Just waiting for someone.” Someone who I kept reminding that this was the most important night of their life and they’re still late! He thought to himself. Jimin looked over at the man before him and offered him yet another one of his charming smiles. “Oh, here. Would you like me to get you another glass of champagne, Mr. Oh?” He offered.

“Hm? Ah, I didn’t even realize I ran out.” The man laughed a bit. “I’d appreciate that Mr. Park, thanks. I’ll be over here by this artist’s work…” he motioned to a wall of different paintings. “I’ll see if I can finally scope out your artist.” The man looked at Jimin, seeing the slight look of panic on his face. It made him smirk. “Is he still in the bathroom?”

“Uh, I’ll find out.” He smiled, nodding his head. “While I get the champagne.” Just as quickly as he nodded his head, he hurried to find a waiter that was close to the entrance, pulling out his phone. As he stood by the door, he took a waiter by the tie, keeping him close. “Tell me the appetizers you guys have, please.” He asked. Though the man began to speak, Jimin was frantically pushing buttons. The sound of his phone connecting was no use to calm his nerves because if he didn’t get an answer, he would probably break the phone in half and flee to a different country. Fortunately, he heard a deep voice on the other side, panting and gasping for air in desperation.

“H-Hello?”

“Taehyung, where are you?!” He asked. “You’re almost 45 minutes late. There are people -.”

“Don’t shout, I... I hear from you.” Jimin blinked as he put a hand on his hip. “And take your hand off your hip. It makes you look like a diva.”

“Wha-?” Just then, Jimin turned slightly to his left to see a panting Taehyung, hunched over and holding onto his knees tightly as he tried desperately to get air into his lungs. His grey suit jacket was a bit wrinkled from the running, and his hair had little strands flying off his head from the wind blowing against it. But he was here and alive, so that was all that mattered. “There you are.” He hurried over. “What the heck is wrong with you? Do you know how much I had to crank up my charm to keep the people who want to see you at bay?”

“But you’re good at cranking up the charm. That’s why I love you.” Taehyung looked up at him, patting his friend’s cheek as the waiter walked over to the two of them, Jimin forgetting that the poor man was rattling off appetizers to him. “Oh, good. I need a drink.” Taehyung gasped, reaching out to grab one of the drinks. Jimin grabbed one too, and Taehyung smirked. “Have you been stress-drinking again?” He asked, putting the glass up to his lips and taking a sip.

“No.” He said. “...Well, yeah, but that’s not it.” Jimin quickly thrust the skinny glass towards Taehyung, who looked at him curiously.

“...You think I’m going to stress drink?” He asked curiously.

“No, dummy.” Jimin huffed, turning the two of them towards the gathering happening only feet away. “Look. Right there.” He pointed straight ahead. “Oh, Min-Jae. That’s the guy that keeps talking to me about you. He’s the guy who even got your work displayed here in the first place.” Taehyung looked the man over, watching as he stood by Taehyung’s paintings and works, hands in his pockets as he stared ahead silently. “Go bring him a drink and chat him up a bit or something, will you? I’ll go try and mingle with some other people for once.”

“Alright, alright.” Taehyung sighed. “...I still cannot believe you got my art into such a high-end show.” Taehyuhg sighed.

“Yeah, don’t make any of this go to waste. Now go.” Nudging his friend, Taehyung nodded, walking over towards Mr. Oh, drinks in his hands.

“Mr., Oh?” He called out, making the man look over. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Kim Taehyung.”

“Aaaah, Mr. Kim. Finally, I was getting worried your nerves got the better of you.” He said. When he saw the drinks in his hands, he grinned. “A partier?”

“Hm? Oh.” He chuckled. “No, Sir. Here. My manager told me that you were looking for another drink, so I took the liberty of bringing you one.” Mr. Oh took the glass into his hands, nodding his head.

“I was waiting for about 45 minutes.”

“I uh...heh. I apologize. This is my first time at an event as big as this. I usually have my art shown at smaller gigs.” Mr. Oh chuckled.

“I can tell...” Mr. Oh said, his eyes wandering back to the handful of portraits before them. He quickly took the full glass from Taehyung’s hand, lifting it to his lips to take a sip. “So, tell me, where does your inspiration come from?” He asked.

“Well…” Taehyung began, putting his hand in his pocket. He pursed his lips together. “It depends. This one I got inspired by a nice tree I passed by a while back.” He motioned to a painting that encompassed every shade of green on the canvas, the other various colors put in places that accented the beauty of the greens. “This one...I uh….” Mr. Oh looked over at him as Taehyung motioned to a myriad of colors on a circular canvas, blending and almost creating a new color entirely, while still accenting the beautiful hues of the rainbow. “This one I…made after a very...important….dark… a moment in my life.” He saw Mr. Oh put the glass to his lips again, and let out a shaky breath as he turned to a third painting. He was silent for a moment, pointing to the picture. He was out of bullshit to spew. “...Well, nothing inspired this one. I just wanted to draw a dolphin.”

“A....dolphin.” Mr. Oh said, nodding his head. “I see.”

“Yeah. A lot of things inspire me, but I don’t know how to describe them. I just paint what I want.” Mr. Oh walked over and examined the paintings, leaning in close to observe what he was looking at.

“....A dolphin.” Mr. Oh repeated. Taehyung raised an eyebrow, wondering why the hell this guy kept saying that.

“What do...you think?” He asked curiously, watching Mr. Oh step back once again. Silence filled their little area for a moment, and Taehyung shifted in nervous anticipation.

“What do I think?” Mr. Oh asked, turning back to Taehyung. He put his hands behind his back. Taehyung took a step back, trying to remain calm despite the sudden nervousness she felt in his stomach. “I think that you’re the kind of person who gives the term ‘professional’ a bad name.” It was then Taehyung felt it. His heart sank directly into his stomach.

“...I-I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Your paintings are subpar, your attire is atrocious, and your professionalism is a joke. Almost one hour late, and you couldn’t use that time to think up a single intellectual thing to say?”

“Uh, I-.”

“You even have your…Instagram on here. That’s just embarrassing…” He motioned to the small little plaque on the wall that read @thelocalartaeist. Then he turned back to Taehyung. “Look, Mr. Kim-.” Mr. Oh said, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. “I’ll be honest. You seem to deserve at least that. Your friend Mr. Park did a lot of help with the marketing of my business's newest branch in Busan.” When his comment was meant with a confused stare from the twenty-five-year-old artist, he let out a much more frustrated groan. “Consider it a favor to him that your art is even hanging up on this wall right now.” Taehyung frowned. “Why do you think I’m the only one here even giving these a glance? Because they’re not at the same level as the rest of the art in this show. You might want to consider staying at your...usual locals, hm?”

Taehyung’s eyes wandered to the paintings that were hanging on the wall. All of the hours he spent awake in his room, living off mugs and mugs of coffee, as crumpled and ripped up sketches scattered around him. They filled his studio apartment, leaving him to spend moments writhing in pain on the floor because he got a cramp in his wrist from hours of nonstop drawing, or in frustration. After all, he ran out of blue paint just as he was about to finish the sky. All those moments, he poured into his art….

...and he was unprofessional because he wanted to draw a dolphin?

When Mr. Oh watched Taehyung’s shoulders slump, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll have my security return the paintings to you within 24 hours.”

“I don’t need your help,” Taehyung said simply. Mr. Oh blinked, eyes slightly wide in surprise. Taehyung’s lips turned into a tight frown. Mr. Oh nodded.

“Fine.” He said, passing his champagne glass to Taehyung once again, using his finger to tug at the wrinkly collar of his jacket before putting his hand in his pocket. “And invest in an iron. That’s a good start.” He hummed before he began to walk towards another group of people who were admiring the work of another artist. Taehyung looked down at the empty wine glass in his hand, gripping it tightly. He suddenly heard footsteps approach him. When he looked up, he saw Jimin.

“How did it….?” He fell silent, just staring at Taehyung. His knuckles were white, hand shaking slightly. “Tae-.” He put his hand on his shoulder. Just as he did so, Taehyung’s hand released, sending the glass onto the floor. A loud shattering sound alerted the attention of everyone in the room, finally bringing Taehyung back to reality. “Woah!” Jimin hopped back, watching glass scatter around his feet.

Taehyung glanced around, seeing the faces of other people. All eyes were on him now, women clinging to their dates in fear of a violent outbreak, single men preparing to take control of the situation as needed. Min-Jae was looking over, hands in his pockets as he chuckled a bit, only turning away from the scene with seemingly no more interest in Taehyung. Taehyung glanced at Jimin, who turned to a waiter and asked for someone to clean this. When he looked back to Taehyung, he offered a kind smile.

“You hurt?” Jimin asked curiously. Taehyung didn’t respond, only offering a soft smile. “...You can tell me what happened when we get home. Come on.” Patting his friends back, he led him out of the event, just as an event worker returned to the broken glass to clean this up. As the duo walked past, a couple was walking in, but Taehyung was so busy staring straight ahead that he didn’t notice, causing him to bump into the woman.

“Oh. I’m sorry, are you alright?” The girl asked, turning to him. Taehyung looked over, biting his lip.

“I-I’m fine. Sorry…” he said. The woman nodded, offering a kind smile before the man, a tall, well-pressed individual with black glasses and slicked-back brown hair, gently put his hand on the small of her back.

“Are you alright? Let’s get going.” The young woman nodded, following him into the event. Taehyung watched as Mr. Oh approached the duo, shaking hands with the man.

“Ahhh, Mr. Kim, I’m glad you finally made it. And who is this?” Mr. Oh said. Before Taehyung could overhear anymore of the conversation, Jimin finished leading him out of the event.

“I’ll make sure to get the paintings back to your apartment tomorrow,” Jimin said. Taehyung only groaned in response, stuffing his hands in his pockets as the duo headed down the road. “Let’s go down to that pub and get a few drinks.”

The local bar, a small yet cozy place where locals would get together to wash away the stresses of the long day they had, would find Jimin and Taehyung as frequent guests. Jimin’s job as a popular marketing executive meant that he had connections, connections that sometimes helped him and his friend out, while other times, slapped them both hard in the face. He was realizing now that this was a connection that would leave a dark bruise on Taehyung’s ego, as he sat back in his seat watching his friend throwback shots.

“You know if you keep drinking like that, you’ll wake up outside your apartment again,” Jimin said, crossing his arms. Taehyung set his now empty shot glass onto the table with a forceful slam, before looking at his friend with glazed-over eyes.

“Did you even hear what that jackass said to me?” he asked, sniffling. “No, you didn’t. He said my art was subpar, and I gave professionalism a bad name.” Running a hand through his hair, he sniffled. “You had to see how he looked at my picture of the dolphin. He said it was subpar. I worked days on that painting.”

“I know,” Jimin said softly. “I remember the fast food bags that piled up outside your front door because you wouldn’t pull yourself back to cook.

“Right?! But that jackass doesn’t even get that. All he cares about is…” he groaned, hands falling onto his face in an attempt to stifle his frustration. “I don’t even know. God, this sucks.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Jimin said. “You have tons of followers on your Instagram that love your work.”

“My work and my face. More than half of my comments are on how attractive my teenage fans think I am, not even my artwork.” He groaned. “I love them, but it’s so frustrating.” Jimin nodded in understanding, though he didn’t come close to understanding. “How the hell did you even get to know that guy? He said you helped him out.”

“Yeah. While I was helping him market, I overheard him talking about the art show he was holding for his friends. I showed him your social media, and he seemed to like it.”

“Well, I guess he’s a good actor, huh?” Taehyung sighed. As he saw one of the waiter’s approach, he leaned back in his seat. “Can I get another bottle of soju? I’m almost out.”

“No, absolutely not,” Jimin said quickly, his hand reaching out to grab hold of the empty shot glass. “He doesn’t need any more drinks, but some bread or something would help sober him up.” The waiter nodded his head, giving one more apologetic glance to the frowning Taehyung before walking away.

“Aaaah, Jimin, that’s not nice! I want to drink!” Taehyung whined, hoping a set of wide eyes and a pouty lip would help his case. It didn’t.

“I’m not carrying you home again; you’re heavy when you are blackout drunk!” Jimin huffed, running a hand through his hair. He could see Taehyung’s face slowly switch emotion. No longer was he pouting like a child with wide eyes and a quivering lip, but instead, his eyes cast over with a dark somberness, his bottom lip stuck between an anxious set of teeth. Jimin sighed, leaning forward so that his hand reached out, taking Taehyung’s hand tightly in his own. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Taehyung said, resting his head in his hand. “You didn’t make me look like a complete jackass in front of some of the most important business people in Korea.”

“But I shouldn’t have accepted the offer. Mr. Oh was a douchebag even when I was working for him. I just wanted to-.”

“Jimin, please,” Taehyung said, looking up at him. When Jimin looked up at him, he saw Taehyung’s glassy eyes turning red, and he quickly tried to hide it by running his arm across his wet eyes. “Just forget it.” Jimin leaned back in his chair, the duo staying in silence as the waiter brought over a basket of some bread, the warm aura of the slices of bread sending somewhat of a comforting feeling into both men. Taehyung reached out, taking hold of one of the loaves and tearing it in half, profoundly inhaling the warmth of the bread as if it would consume his body and take away the awful feelings coursing through him. When he took a bite of the dough, he glanced down at a napkin, sitting idly on the table as it waited to be used. It hadn’t yet, but Taehyung planned to put a stop to that. With the bread still in his mouth, Taehyung reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small pen. With a click, the pen opened up, and he grabbed hold of the napkin, sliding it closer as he leaned forward. When Jimin saw the pen touch the napkin, he tilted his head.

“Hm? What are you doing?” Jimin asked curiously, leaning forward in curiosity to what caught his friend’s drunk attention. Taehyung didn’t even look up; his pen continued to just scratch against the pale white napkin.

“Drawing.” He said simply. “The bread is hot.” Jimin couldn’t get a view of what Taehyung was scribbling down, since Taehyung had it so close to his chest. Tilting his head just a bit, Jimin was able to get a view of Taehyung’s face. His eyes were still red, still wet from the embarrassing night that he had experienced. However, Jimin noticed something new sparkling behind those wide, dark eyes.

Absolute inspiration.

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

Teaching and instilling the ideas of inspiration in young children is an essential tool in the ever-growing development of children. Inspiration could come from anywhere, at any time. By providing children with enough opportunities to draw and create based on their own experiences, drawing their inspiration from things they didn’t even realize were planted in their memory, is an easy and enjoyable way to see the personalities of children. It takes a lot of patience, a lot of creativity, and a lot of overly exaggerated praise that keeps the children wanting to succeed in hopes of that praise being given again.

When you’re the head pre-school teacher of about 17 children just barely aged 4, you need to succeed at that whole ‘overly exaggerated praise’ aspect. You paced the room, watching the little heads of children rocking side to side happily, their hands reaching into colorful buckets of markers and crayons to pull out their absolute favorite color, only to scribble all over their blank, white canvas in five seconds and call that art. As your eyes scanned, one of your younger students, a girl named Yuna, was doing just that, a pink marker clutched in her tiny hands.

“Yuna, remember, don’t scribble all over the page. Draw a nice picture, use as many colors as you can, okay?” You hummed, kneeling down and gently reaching out for her hand, setting the pink marker down.

“But pink is my favorite Teacher.” She said sadly, pouting a bit.

“I know. But look at all the other amazing colors, okay?” You smiled, picking a few hues of reds, yellows, and blues, and spreading them all out in front of the little one for her to see. “Not everything in the world is pink, you know.”

“I know…” Yuna, though a bit bummed that she couldn’t create her entirely-pink world, reached out and grabbed the closest thing to it: red. With a pop, the cap fell onto the table, and Yuna hunched over, continuing her frantic coloring. Just as you continued to walk around and look at the kids, one of them tugged at your skirt. Turning your head, tiny Yeonjun, a skinny little boy with wide eyes, tried his best to get his picture as close to your eyes as possible.

“I’m done!” He beamed. “Look! Look!” As you knelt, you took the picture from his hands and examined it. Yeonjun’s image was decorated in various colors, arching over one another to make a crudely drawn, yet still recognizable rainbow. Some of the colors overlapped one another, and it seemed that the orange was an afterthought, hastily rushed in between the red and yellow at the last moment, so it wasn’t too easy to spot it. The sky was scribbled with a lighter blue than the one used for the rainbow, yet still, it was scribbled with such an unsteady and novice hand that the blue overlapped with the rainbow, and if it didn’t, there were significant gaps of white leftover that he didn’t color.

“This is so good.” You beamed. “Tell me, what was your inspiration for this one?” You asked curiously, looking up at the boisterous little boy whose eyes were sparkling.

“Well, I saw a rainbow with my Mommy the other day after it rained alllll night. Then, I got to splash in the puddles. So, I drew the rainbow.”

“I love it. Can I hang it up on the wall?” Yeonjun nodded, practically bouncing in place, his hands balled into anxious little fists. As you got to your feet, smoothing out your skirt, you led Yeonjun to the wall of pictures. The wall was covered in many different images from all the students, ranging from holiday and birthday cards to pictures they drew or even colored in. Whatever they wanted to display in the classroom, you were happy to hang up. The only rule was, they had to show that they worked hard on it. There were no scribbles on this wall, no random circles, or simple lines that were done in a second just so the student could get as many pictures as they could of their own plastered up for the world to see. That wasn’t fair, not in your eyes. “Alright.” Snagging a piece of tape, you handed the completed picture to the young boy. “You can choose where it goes.” Yeonjun’s eyes scanned the wall of art, trying to find the best place he could put it. After a moment, he found it.

“There!” His hand pointed up to a blank space he located, right between a colored in a picture of the South Korean flag, and a drawing of a tree with apples on it. “I want it next to Taehyun’s picture!” Before you could say anything, Yeonjun got onto his tiptoes, trying his absolute hardest to reach the spot himself. However, it was much too far for his tiny stature; even you had to reach your hand up and stretch for it to fit. However, just as Yeonjun was getting discouraged, he was swooped into the air. Turning your head, a heart-shaped smile, and wide eyes caught your attention. Jung Hoseok – better known to your students as just Mr. Hobi - your good friend and co-worker, who had a spirit so free and a personality so upbeat that just saying his name would get the kids in a frenzy every morning. He, though a bit unorthodox in his methods of handling the kids, was well-liked, and very good at his job.

“Up we go!” Hoseok cheered. “Okay, can you reach now?”

“Uh-huh.” The little boy placed his picture in the spot he desired, pressing on the piece of clear tape with his thumb to make sure it would stick. After staring at it with a proud smile, Hoseok set him down. “Thank you, Mr. Hobi~.”

“No problem. Now, go play until our next activity, okay?” He hummed, smiling wide as he watched the little boy hurry off. Next thing he knew, tons of children swarmed him, holding up their pictures.

“Me next, Mr. Hobi!” Yuna shouted, holding up her picture as high as she could.

“No, me!” Another boy, Kai, shouted, trying to get his even higher than Yuna’s.

“Alright, alright. We can hang them all up; we still have some room.” Hoseok said, kneeling to look at all of the pictures being shoved in his face. “Now, Kai, can you tell me what you made?”

“I made a dinosaur!” He beamed. “It’s breathing fire! I saw a real one at Disney one time!”

“Those aren’t real!” Another little girl, Chareyeong, shouted, a hand on her hip as the other held the palm of her best friend, little Yuna.

“Uh-huh! My Dad told me so.” Kai snapped back, deciding to end the conversation with his tongue poking out of his mouth. Chaeryeong was quick to do the same, as was Yuna before Hoseok quickly crossed his arms, a disapproving look aimed towards all of them. Instantly, the bickering ended. With that settled, Hoseok nodded, scooping the male tyke up and holding up in his arms, allowing him to search for a spot. You knelt as well, taking Yuna’s picture from her. While it was still consistently pink, the reds and blues added as well, making it look like Yuna spent a lot more time on her project.

“What did you draw for us, Yuna?” You asked curiously.

“A pink cotton candy castle with red and blue gumdrops.” Yuna nodded, a grin forming on her face that reached from ear to ear. You smiled as you examined the picture thoroughly.

“Can you tell me what inspired you to draw this, Yuna?” you asked curiously. Yuna was silent for a bit, taking a moment to think.

“…Well, I saw Yeonjun pick his nose in gym class yesterday, and thought it was gross. So, I drew cotton candy because it’s not gross.” A few of the other kids giggled at the memory of Yeonjun’s little finger jammed up his nose before the gym teacher quickly spotted and wiped his hand off with a Kleenex. Glancing up at Hoseok, he was just setting Kai back onto the floor; a grin spread on his face as he heard the little girls reasoning for her picture.

“…That’s your inspiration?” you asked, an eyebrow arched in confusion, and yet, somehow slight amusement. Yuna nodded, the reasoning making total sense to her.

“Mhm. It’s my inpirtion.” She hummed. Only able to reply with a shake of your head, you placed a piece of clear tape onto the picture, and moments later, Hoseok scooped her into his arms, as she searched for where she wanted her picture. Once it was up, you stared at it for a moment.

Inspiration could come from anywhere, it seemed.

Return to Masterlist

Next / Previous

--------

A/N: I’m back guys! I look forward to sharing my newest fic with you. I have more stories and ideas in the works as well, so I hope you enjoy everything I have to share! <3

11 notes · View notes