#(1) relaxed enough to not really care about singing/performing properly there

[ponds-of-ink]

Out of curiosity, I’m listening to Springtrap’s humming snippets in DBD and I’m try to figure out what exact songs they could be (if anything at all). Everyone’s already figured out the Ring Around The Rosie part, so I’m skipping that.

The only things I’m learning are:

(1) Wow, Springtrap’s chords are not allowing him to remain on-key for too long. I’ve had to transcribe by ear so far, and I am legit struggling a couple of times.

(2) One voice clip that goes on for two seconds almost sounds like Stay With Me from Into The Woods? Maybe? (It’s C# to F# to G#/Ab, if I’m hearing it correctly. I’m very sure that song’s not the only example of that, but it’s the first thing that came to mind.)

I’ll update if I actually catch anything, but it’s going to be tricky.

[elliestormfound]

People linked by destiny will always find each other

This is one of my earliest fanfics and think I never posted this here on tumblr, only on ao3 

In wich Ciri and Geralt find each other and Geralt takes on the role of her (foster-/god-) father. After a few weeks they happen to run into Jaskier, who has not forgiven Geralt...

CW: Mention of Ciri experiencing trauma, nothing too specific, just how it shaped her current behavior 

Chapter 2, 3, 4, 5

-----------

Chapter 1 of 5

Geralt did not care if it was destiny or something else, but when Princess Cirilla, the child he had unwillingly bound to himself with the law of surprise, stood before him in the woods, he knew that he needed and wanted to take care of this girl, to protect her and to learn everything he needed to know to make her life a happy one.

After he had been so stupid to push away the people he had actually cared for and that had cared for him, he needed to do right by this girl that had stood before him all alone, and who had experienced so much trauma in her short life.

Now it was his responsibility to make sure she was safe, teach her everything she needed to survive and flourish in this cruel world and most importantly feel loved. So he dusted off the heavy heart in his chest which existence he had so eagerly denied, but in the end had not been able to protect from being broken by his own stupid words thrown towards a bard.

In the first days they travelled together Geralt had noticed that Ciri acted way too grown-up for her few years on this earth. She was very serious, polite and did not complain about or ask for anything. He knew this was a facade she had put up as a coping mechanism. He gave her the room to get to get to know him.

And he always gave her choices - riding on Roach or walking, making camp now or later - and respected her decisions. He knew that at first she had tried to give the choices back to Geralt or to take the choice she thought would be the smaller effort, as if she was afraid he would just leave her behind if she turned out to be a burden.

After a few days Ciri quietly asked if she could take Roaches reins. He showed the girl how to approach the yet unfamiliar horse and to his surprise Roach was gentle and patient with Ciri, letting herself be petted. So Ciri took the reins in her small hands and from then on the horse was a steady presence at the girl’s side.

In the evening Geralt showed her how to remove the saddle and how to properly dry off the horse with a hand full of hay. Ciri eagerly learned to take care of Roach, when and what to feed her or when they should stop for Roach to drink and rest. Ciri got more relaxed and sometimes he even saw a faint smile on her face when she petted the horse’s neck.

But the first time Ciri’s earnest little face really light up with a smile was when he picked up sweet strawberries from a farmer. It had felt like the greatest honor to be bestowed upon him. And she opened up more and more. One night she asked for a second helping of their dinner, a day later she asked to ride a while on Roach and another night she told him that she liked the roasted rabbits more than the stew he had cooked the night before.

And when one evening she quietly asked if they could make camp now because her feet hurt he was in no way annoyed but truly honored that she finally trusted him enough to voice something like that - only slight nervous, but without fear.

It was a delight when she started to talk. Not just the polite answers she had given him in their first few days together, but she started to tell him things. Sometimes she talked about her favorite foods, a game she had loved to play with her friends or about the fat orange cat from the cook that she had loved dearly and other times she told him about the last days with her grandmother and the attack from Nilfgaard.

When she started to ask about his swords he offered to teach her basic fighting stances and moves. The girl was an eager student.

Ciri took a liking to the life with the witcher. She started to love all the little chores that were part of their traveling days, like gathering wood for a fire or herbs for their meals and even scrubbing their cooking pot. But taking care of Roach was still her favorite.

One day Ciri insisted that they stop when she saw fields of wildflowers. She gathered flowers and present them to the horse one after another and memorized the ones that Roach’s liked to eat, so she could gather more of them the next time. And she loved to comb and braid the horse’s mane.

The first time he saw wildflowers braided into Roach’s mane his heart had stopped for a moment, till he realized it was not Jaskier’s work but Ciri’s. When he had travelled with the bard, Jaskier had also taken a liking to the horse and surprisingly Roach had let him braid his mane and to Geralt’s confusion even seemed to like it. Ciri’s worried reaction to Geralt’s cold expression made him soften his face to a smile, telling her how lovely their horse looked.

It had been unexpected for the witcher how much the thought of Jaskier and the reminder of his absence did upset him. Finding Ciri and traveling with her towards Kaer Morhen had distracted him largely from thinking about the bard but in that moment Geralt felt how much he had screwed up. He could not remember why he had said those cruel words to his bard.

And this was not the only instance where Ciri made him think of Jaskier. When the girl had started to opened up to Geralt, it had hit him how her cheery personality and absolute trust in him reminded him of his former traveling companion. It was a bitter reminder that only few humans were so relaxed and careless around him and how he had driven away one of these precious few.

For Ciri’s protection Geralt had suggested to cut her hair short and wear trousers as a disguise. Ciri warmed up to the idea quickly. With the trousers it was far easier to ride on Roach and to climb rocks or trees and it took way less time to comb and wash the shorter hair.

Geralt greatly enjoyed it, when the girl was happy. After all the trauma she had experienced he was amazed about her ability to find joy in little things, like beautiful flowers or the pretty song of a bird. He was often amazed by her endless energy. In the evenings she often danced around their fire, telling him old bedtime stories from her early childhood.

And she sang. Ciri loved to sing. But to his utter dismay the songs she enjoyed most were from none other than Jaskier - the famous bard, as Ciri liked to call him. She told him that the bard had - unknown to Geralt - visited the Citran Court regularly, performing at many bankets over the course of Ciri’s life. And the girl was absolutely smitten with the bard.

----

Link to the next chapter on tumblr and ao3

Tag list:

@jaskierswolf @geraskier-trashh @hailhailsatan @panerato @marvagon @x-anxious @moonysourenza @kaktusbambus @wildonewrites @dapandapod @honeysuckletook @thecomfortofoldstorries @electricrituals @broken-verses @vampire--dad @whenrainbowsend @geralt-of-riviass @sleepy-thief @artistsfuneral @hriive @mynameisdoofthelizardandamspooky

let me know if I should put you on or remove you from my tag list :)

[unibrowzz]

Mod (finally) reviews all 67 winners of the Eurovision Song Contest Part VI: The 00s

So I gave the 2000s a lot of shit back when I was rewatching them, mainly because the contests became much longer now with the introductions of so many more participants that semi finals had to be introduced, and also because the song quality nosedived. With the televote now in full control of who won, all you really needed to do to get a good result was either send somebody well known in your geographical area, and/or send something weird that would stand out amongst 40+ participants.

This is where the illusion of “bloc voting” came from.

So song, quality for the most part, was compromised in favour of either sending an attention-grabbing vote trap or just somebody famous. But that’s enough about the contests overall, how’s about them winners?

2000- Fly on the Wings of Love

Country: Denmark

Artist: Olsen Brothers

Language: English

Thoughts: I wonder how it feels to wait nearly 40 years to win again only to win as a complete surprise with a song 100/1 in the odds. Must be weird. My feelings towards this song are… kinda mixed. It sounds like the kind of song you swear you’ve heard before over a million times, be it in advertisements, on the radio, being played by buskers or bored guitar kids at parties. But at the same time it feels so completely different compared to other winners and, Hell, even other Eurovision songs at the time. It’s a very striking and recognisable song when talking about Eurovision music, sure. It’s very chill, and relaxed, and the singer has a bizarre voice which somehow sounds heavily autotuned even when he’s performing live.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Sweden- Roger Pontare- “When Spirits are Calling my Name”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 46th

2001- Everybody

Country: Estonia

Artist: Tanel Padar & Dave Benton

Language: English

Thoughts: And this folks, is what you call a guilty pleasure. I avoided this song for a while because I just knew it was objectively terrible. I knew this barely qualified as a song, that most of it was just two mismatched dudes shouting at each other over a disco track, that the lyrics aren’t that great at all… Et cetera. And yet, trashy as it is, I still really like this song. I don’t really know why, maybe it’s my barely-hidden desire to be an obnoxious contrarian, maybe it’s because the chorus has some fairly decent lyrics (especially for an eastern European entry), maybe it’s because it’s catchy… Or maybe because it’s fun, I dunno.

Is this my personal winner for this year? 2001 really sucked tbh

If no, what is? Honestly yeah, this song shreds

Personal ranking (out of 67):  13th

2002: I Wanna

Country: Latvia

Artist: Marie N (Or, Maria Naumova)

Language: English (I think…?)

Thoughts: You want a song which hasn’t aged well? Well here you go.  I’m sure this song was MUCH more bearable back in 2002, but listening to it now is just... What on Earth is she even saying?? I don’t think I’ve heard a song with such garbled lyrics before. On my first listen, I couldn’t even distinguish what language this song was in, and when I finally realised it was in English… good Lord, the lyrics are complete nonsense. And the rhyming? It’s non-existent. The funny thing is Marie herself speaks really good English, so why this song sounds like it was run through Google Translate five times and sung by someone who only started learning English 5 minutes ago is beyond me. But enough about the terrible singing, lyrics and butchery of the English language, does this song have anything else going for it? Not really. I’d put this song into the same category as “Diva”, in that it’s trying desperately to be the next big disco track of its decade, but it just never reaches the crescendo it sets out to achieve. It just drunkenly fumbles around until it ends. What a graceful entry.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? United Kingdom- Jessica Garlick- "Come Back"

Personal ranking (out of 67):  59th

2003- Every Way that I Can

Country: Turkey

Artist: Sertab Erener

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the original ethnopop winner. I’m still not 100% sure what ethnopop is, but I’m guessing it’s just slang for the kind of music you’d hear in a gay bar whilst on your holidays. Not that I would know. This is yet another winner where it took me a good few listens to properly enjoy it since I thought the lyrics were a bit… bad. But unlike those other songs, I got into this one way back in (checks playlist) 2014, and I still haven’t managed to fall out of love with it, so to speak. I still really like this song, I’d go as far as to say it’s in my top ten favourite winners in fact. A statement which still hasn’t changed after I watched the 2003 contest recently in July of 2020, so hooray for that. And ethnopop isn’t really a genre I tend to gravitate towards, but I think what makes this song stand out to me at least is how heavy it is. This is a very slow song when you look at its BPM, and the beat just pounds loud and clear all throughout it. It’s not as obnoxious or in-your-face as other songs of its genre, it’s its own thing and that’s what makes it a cut above the rest for me.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal ranking (out of 67):  5th

2004- Wild Dances

Country: Ukraine

Artist: Ruslana

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the superior Ukrainian winner. This song is kind of similar to the one above, in that just like “Every Way that I Can” this is a big, stampy dance number, only this time with the distinction that the lyrics were written in 30 seconds rather than a few minutes. It doesn't get lazier than this folks. But I'm willing to forgive lazy lyrics if the song can distract me from them, and thankfully this song can. Plus it’s not like this song needs good lyrics anyway, I get the feeling the focus is more on the beat and instrumental more than anything. And luckily I’m a sucker for that.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal ranking (out of 67):  7th

2005- My Number One

Country: Greece

Artist: Helena Paparizou

Language: English

Thoughts: I’ll give you “My Number One crawled so Fuego could run”, more like My Number One won so Fuego could pull up the rear in second place behind a song full of chicken noises. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This song I feel is the one which really popularised that… certain brand of Eurovision song. The female-led, east Meditteranean origin, “Yas queen slay” brand of Eurovision song. Yanno. The true gay bar song. Which is, as I said earlier, not really a genre I like nor care for. Do I like this song? Eh. Kinda. I can’t really bring myself to hate it, since I have some good memories associated with it, but... … Well, I wouldn’t go out of my way to listen to it, put it that way. It feels kind of aggressive, and not in a way I’m all that comfortable with. The way she snarls that she’ll “get vicious” if her love isn’t reciprocated especially doesn’t sit right with me. Like I don’t want to be a That Guy™ who says people would get offended if a man sang that line, but it still puts me off a bit.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Hungary- NOX- “Forogj, Viláj!”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 36th

2006- Hard Rock Hallelujah

Country: Finland

Artist: Lordi

Language: English

Thoughts: My mother always asks me “how did this win?” And I always tell her, “Well it’s been nearly 15 years since it won and you still remember it, so clearly it left an impact on people.” So, obviously, this is a gimmicky entry; without the giant monster costumes I highly doubt this would’ve even qualified, let alone won with what was then a record-breaking score. After all, rock/metal songs don’t tend to fare well at this contest. Even with the drunk European public in full control of the vote, most of them are lucky to even make it onto the left side of the scoreboard, and getting into the top ten? Forget it. It's too niche of a genre for it to have broad appeal, especially given how a lot of viewers (in my experience at least) DO tend to be older and more conservative, shall we say.  Now, I'm not an expert on rock or metal myself, so I can't really say whether this is a good representation of the genre or whether this is what outsiders THINK it's like, but even to my untrained ear this does sound very tongue-in-cheek. Like I don’t want to go so far as to say this is a parody of metal music, but it definitely doesn’t seem to take itself too seriously. The song, I mean. Apparently the band is very serious about their monster aesthetic; but I digress. That said, I do have a soft spot for whatever sub-genre of metal this is, so I don’t mind this one in the slightest. 

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Croatia

If no, what is? Croatia- Séverina- “Moja Stikla”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 30th

2007: Molitva

Country: Serbia

Artist: Marija Serifovic

Language: Serbian (Translation: “Prayer”)

Thoughts: Ah, this one takes me back. This was one of the first Eurovision songs I remember truly falling in love with way back in 2013. I must’ve been about 16 or 17 at the time, heavily into dark, edgy music, and this song was just pure heaven for me. Ticked all the right boxes. It’s dark, it’s brooding, it’s sultry, the vocals are stellar, the lyrics are incredible; like, I wanted the title of this song tattooed on my wrist, I loved it so damn much, I just wanted to declare to the world that I loved this song. But that was then, how do I feel about it today? Obviously not the same, tastes evolve over time and after a while I wasn’t so easily suckered into this song’s spell like I used to be. But at the same time, I can’t deny that this is a fantastic song across the board, and one I still like despite it being my edgy favourite from back when my taste in music was terrible. Plus this is also the best-sung song of the 2000s, but that’s like being the tallest person in a room full of toddlers.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal Ranking (out of 67): 3rd

2008: Believe

Country: Russia

Artist: Dima Bilan

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes. The song that finally made Terry Wogan quit after 30 years of “commentating”. The song that proved to the people of the UK once and for all that the contest was rigged to favour certain countries and that countries in western Europe would never win again. Was it worth it? Not really, but I’m not complaining.  Now, I don't like Wogan's commentary at all, but really? This song? This is the straw that broke the camel’s back? This song isn’t bad per se, it’s just… Very underwhelming. And outdated. Like I can smell the 2000s off this one and it smells like Lynx body spray and hair gel. It's stuck in that awkward phase where it's too old to be cool, but not old enough to be retro, and it’s forever doomed to be a product of its time. It’s just an average, generic, “I have a dream and I can achieve it” pseudo-ballad; nothing outstanding or special. The performance feels very stale and formulaic too. The only way to describe it is it’s what I imagine an American person would THINK a winning Eurovision song would be like based on what they get told by their European pen pals. Dated music, hot Russian men, over the top presentation, like this just reeks of what outsiders (or British people, for that matter) think Eurovision is made of. On a different note, mediocre and dated as this song may be, I can still kinda see how it won (and no, it has nothing to do with Russia’s international relationships). Dima himself is a very… unique performer; one who performs with the questionable energy of an overexcitable children’s YouTuber, and his dramatic and exaggerated movements make this whole performance a bit of a blast to watch. But that doesn’t really save how painfully bland the song is.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Latvia- Pirates- "Wolves of the Sea"

Personal ranking (out of 67): 48th

2009: Fairytale

Country: Norway

Artist: Alexander Rybak

Language: English

Thoughts: I’m not going to lie, my feelings towards this song are incredibly mixed. There’s a lot of appeal here, with wild violin solos, swooping vocals and a pounding beat, as well as a very singalongable chorus; like, this is a good, solid song. But… something here just doesn’t gel with me. This, to me, is one of those “good by default” songs that’s a solid ‘A’ across the board, but something’s just… missing for me. There’s not enough here for me to go out of my way to download and listen to this on a regular basis. It's in the same boat as “Waterloo” in that I don't dislike it, because it’s still a good song, but I can't say I like it either, because it’s such a default "best Eurovision song”, so I can’t sincerely say I like it. Am I making sense? Probably not. But basically my thoughts are “it’s good, but it’s not my kind of good.”

Is this my personal winner for this year? Ehhhhhh

If no, what is? Germany- Alex Swings, Oscar Sings- “Miss Kiss Kiss Bang”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 29th

[hymn2000]

Ideal Confusion - MCU AU Fanfic - C15

(Title subject to change)

Story summary: Giving into the constant pressure from the press, Tony decides to put a rest to the rumours that Peter is his biological son - once and for all.

Previous Chapter(s): 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: family, family stuff, family conflict, adoption, DNA test(s), pressure, peer pressure, social issues, mentions of alcoholism, mental health problems, potentially some minor medical inaccuracies, corporal punishment, hurt/comfort

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 15 - A Heart Has Many Secrets

-

Getting ready for school the next morning felt incredibly strange; almost foreign. Getting up early hadn’t been easy. He didn’t have an appetite, which nearly led to a bit of a ding-dong with Loki, who was very insistent he needed to eat anyway. And, as if tensions weren’t high enough, Loki broke the news that he had to go to work so wouldn’t be able to take him to school.

-

Peter wasn’t happy being in the car with Tony, and he made his feelings very clear. He’d become very good at keeping silent since becoming a member of the Stark household. Tony wouldn’t be deterred though, and kept talking, offering unwanted advice, reassurance, and generally chatting away as though he were actually getting an answer from the teen beside him.

Peter tried to dive out of the car as soon as they parked, but Tony grabbed his arm.

“Hey” he said. “Come here”

Tony hugged him, and Peter pulled away furiously. Tony kept hold of his arm a moment longer.

“Be good, sweetheart. I’ll see you after school”

Peter scowled, and Tony reluctantly released him. Peter took great pleasure in slamming the car door behind him. Oddly, as he walked towards the main building, he didn’t feel as though he’d been away all that long. He didn’t feel nervous either. In fact, he felt quite calm; although he was certain he could see huge changes on the horizon - far above what he could imagine.

-

Peter seemed to have inherited Loki’s flare for a low-key but poignant entrance. Oddly, as he walked into his form room, and was met by the shouts and voices of so many, he felt so free. In a way, he felt like a felon who was to be released while everyone else was left behind. Let’s be honest; he’d never quite managed to fit into this high-class school in the way everyone had hoped. And he didn’t care. He wasn’t sure how homeschooling was going to go, but he felt so calm looking at everyone, that he was certain he wasn’t going to miss this.

-

Going to his music lesson after lunch was the only thing that almost made him change his mind about the school. He’d grown to be quite close to Mr James since starting private lessons. Mr James was so down to Earth, so unlike a lot of the other teachers, and so supportive of Peter’s playing, and always seemed impressed with all of his progress.

“It’s good to see you again, kiddo” he said, shutting the practice room door. “How have you been? I heard about what you did”

Peter shrugged noncommittally, but he looked a little embarrassed. 

“Don’t worry” Mr James said, squeezing his shoulder. “I was a right little terror when I was a kid. When I was your age, I’d been expelled four times”

Peter looked at him.

“Yes, really! If someone hadn’t shoved a saxophone into my hands, I probably would’ve got expelled from the last school too! Incredible how much music can help you turn things around”

Peter nodded, sitting down at the piano, running his fingers along the keys. 

“I don’t suppose you’ve had any chance to practice. I hope you’re not too rusty”

“I’ve got one at home now” Peter said, and then started slightly, surprising himself.

It surprised Mr James too. “Nice! I’ve gotta say, kiddo, I imagined your voice a lot different”

Peter could feel himself blushing, but Mr James just smiled.

“It’s nice to hear it. Now, fancy showing me what you’ve been working on?”

Peter swallowed, turning to the piano properly. He felt nervous now, and he was still surprised that his voice had jumped out. But maybe... maybe that meant he could perform properly here. 

Maybe.

But he couldn’t think of what to say, and Mr James could see his hesitation.

“Why don’t you do something we were working on first?” he suggested. “Clair de lune?”

Slow, but long. A good way to ease in. Peter understood his choice. It had been a little while since he’d played anything classical. He watched Mr James find a page in a book and set it in front of Peter. He’d managed to pick up a few notes, but he didn’t really need them. He knew this track well enough; it was so popular. 

It was nice playing it, though. Something so familiar, and calm, but somehow dramatic too. He didn’t feel like he was playing the music, but more like it was playing him; making his fingers glide almost effortlessly across the keys. He started feeling much more relaxed, much less nervous and embarrassed. Maybe he’d miss this. All these calm, practice room moments... 

“...That was perfect” Mr James said. “You’re incredible. I’ve never known someone learn so fast, and so well”

“Thank you...”

“You know, I do lessons outside of school. If you wanted to continue after you leave”

“I... I’d have to ask dad” Peter said, not quite looking at him, his voice small.

“What have you been working on?”

Peter shrugged slightly. He’d been playing a lot since getting the piano, mainly to drown out everything else that was happening. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to play. Maybe something fast, or something complex. Maybe...

“I’ve got one, but it’s kinda... long”

“That’s alright. So was the one we just played. If there’s anything you want to show me, just go ahead. This is your lesson, your learning, and your talent: you don’t have to let other people decide what you do with it”

Peter looked at him. He’d played strange and wonderful things to him before, and he trusted him - both his music judgement and personally.

Mr James listened, unsure if he recognised the tune at first, and then startling when Peter opened his mouth.

“You tell me there's an angel in your tree. Did he say he'd come to call on me? For things are getting desperate in our home, living in the parish of the restless folks I know”

Mr James watched him. He’d only just heard him speak, so finding out that he had a voice - and one like this - was a bit of a shock to say the least.

“Burn down the mission, if we're gonna stay alive. Watch the black smoke fly to heaven, see the red flame light the sky. Burn down the mission, burn it down to stay alive. It's our only chance of living, take all you need-” 

And it carried on like that, with power and passion, and very few wobbles, and all too soon, voice and keys petered out, and the practice room was filled with a moments silence.

Mr James merely leaned closer. “What else have you got?”

Peter couldn’t help but grin, and he knew exactly what to play now. Something a bit tricky. But something he knew well enough after all the times he’d played it.

"-But where were all your shoulders when we cried? Were the darlings on the sideline, dreaming up such cherished lies? To whisper in your ear before you die”

Something that had started as a way to show off a bit soon turned into something to enjoy, and in his usual fashion, he got sucked into the music deeply. He wasn’t even distracted by Mr James gently correcting his posture as he played.

“Junk.., angel.., this closet's always stacked. The dealers in the basement, fillin’ your prescription for a brand new heart attack. But where were all your shoulders when we cried? Were the doctors in attendance saying how they felt so sick inside, or was it just the scalpel blade that lied?”

Peter shivered, but he didn’t miss a note. He didn’t let up, hardly even opened his eyes, until he’d tapped out the last few notes.

Once again, there was a moments silence. Peter looked at Mr James, biting his lip nervously. The man looked back, and smiled.

“You’re a special case, Peter Parker-Stark” he said. “You should sign up for the end of term show”

“I don’t know...”

“Well I do, and I think it’s a great idea. You don’t have to sing, but you should definitely play and show everyone what you can do. Go out with a bang”

-

Peter was ready to tell Loki all about his day, so he was pretty furious when Tony turned up to collect him at the end of school. Luckily, Tony was on a work call, which eliminated any awkward one-sided conversation. He was still on the call when they got home, so Peter wasted no time in getting out of the car and darting upstairs. He rushed to Loki’s room, but stopped outside, hearing voices.

“...As long as there’s a decent school within walking distance, that area would work well” Loki was saying. “What are the public transport links like? I had a hire car so...”

Peter stayed quiet, pressing his ear up against the door. What on earth was he talking about? He must be on the phone, but who to? All this talk of schools and transport and amenities. It was almost as though-

“PETER!”

Peter jumped so violently he smacked his head on the door frame.

“Ow!”

“Serves you right” Tony said. “What are you doing, eavesdropping like that?”

“Daddy’s on the phone” Peter mumbled, rubbing his head. 

“I’ll ask you again: what are you doing, eavesdropping like that?”

“Being nosy, I guess”

“Come here”

Peter looked at Tony properly, remembered he was supposed to be giving him the silent treatment, and scowled, annoyed at both of them. Tony sighed, deciding he had better things to do than argue.

“Go and get changed. Now”

Peter didn’t really have a choice, not with Tony watching. He shut his door behind him, throwing his bag down and pulling his tie off. Typical of Tony to sneak in undetected at such a crucial moment. Tragically, there was an en-suite and a cupboard between Peter’s room and Loki’s, so he couldn’t even listen through the wall. He’d have to get his answers some other time.

-

Peter got changed, checked the coast was clear, and snuck back over to Loki’s door. Loki was still on the phone, although the conversation seemed to be coming to an end. 

“-Like I said, it’s still just an idea. It’s good to have all the fact first though. Sorry...? Yes, of course... Thanks again, chick. Talk to you soon. Bye now”

Everything went quiet, and Peter stood where he was, even more confused than before. Loki only called people he cared about ‘chick’. Who could he be talking to? 

As he was considering the options, Loki’s door opened, making Peter jump. They looked at each other.

“Hello, you” Loki said, closing his door behind him.

Something was off here, Peter knew it. “Who were you talking to?”

“Maggie, one of the ladies I worked with in Scotland. You know, I told you about her?”

Peter nodded slightly. He’d heard a lot of stories about Loki’s time in Scotland after he’d got back from his sabbatical. He used to talk about it a lot, but he hadn’t heard him mention it much lately. Although... he’d been looking at houses for sale, hadn’t he?

“Peter? Are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” Peter shook his head slightly. “Sorry”

“Never mind, sweetheart” Loki said, kissing him on the forehead. “Do you want a hot drink while I’m making one?”

Peter shook his head. He watched Loki go, and then looked back at the door. If Loki was just making a drink, he usually just left his door open. Peter knew that he was being overly suspicious, but he wanted answers. So he opened the door and slipped into Loki’s room. 

Loki’s tablet was on the bed. Peter tapped the screen, hoping it had only just timed out. No such luck: it wanted a password. Well, Peter knew a lot of Tony’s passwords, but he’d never managed to guess any of Loki’s - aside from his phone password. Peter abandoned the tablet and picked up Loki’s phone. He tapped in the pin he remembered - and the phone opened. He sat on the bed, looking through the phone. Loki hadn’t lied; his last call had been to Maggie. More than an hour, it had been. He looked through the notes on the phone. Most of it was the usual stuff: extra shifts, household tasks, ongoing shopping lists, something about Tony’s prescription, and then something titled ‘Peter’.

Peter looked up, checking the door, and then clicked on the note. It was another list: School, Room, Tech, Piano, Swimming?, Music, Drama?, Routine. Bike???

Peter looked at the list, confused. He had absolutely no idea what was going on here. What was the thought process? He closed the notes, glanced up, and spotted a notebook, just the corner poking out from under the pillow. He picked it up. It looked old, with curled corners and a well-thumbed front cover. He opened it, finding more notes - but this looked more professional, and upon closer inspection, he suddenly knew what it was. This was Loki’s old notebook from when he’d been working in Scotland; notes on the kids he was helping look after, everything from history to medical appointments to nighttime routines. Why would he be looking at his again? Nostalgia? But, if it was just nostalgia, why would he be hiding it? He liked talking about it; they were used to it in this house now. So why the secrecy? Or was Peter just being paranoid?

He put the notebook back, and picked up Loki’s phone again, opening his recent texts. There wasn’t much. Nothing to people in Scotland, anyway. He opened his latest texts to Tony. ‘Back at 3 x” read the last one. Above that wasn’t really much of interest. Lots of saying when they’d be back, asking if the other needed anything, quick ‘I love you’ texts, that kind of thing. But when he went back further, he found what looked like an argument, and he clicked the back button, sharpish. He knew his parents argued sometimes, but he didn’t like thinking about it. He sighed, and put the phone down. He was just being silly. 

He stood up, and something crackled beneath his foot. He crouched down, taking hold of the folder. It was a new one, evidenced by the price sticker still in place. He opened it, surprised at how thick it felt, and surprised even further by what he found inside. All of a sudden he felt a bit sick, and hot, and on high alert; his pulse beating in his ears. He took the papers out of the folder, looking through them properly. Job adverts, some of them. Information about residency and citizenship and things like that. And property listings. Lots of them, with notes and bullet points written on them in Loki’s familiar scrawl. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the words - and then the door opened. Peter jumped, and gasped a little, looking at his father. 

Loki carefully set his mug of tea down on the nearest cabinet. Peter couldn’t move, only watch, as Loki came over to him. 

“And what” Loki said, dangerously quiet. “Do you think you’re doing?”

“I-I-I was just-” his hands were shaking, and he dropped everything. “Ah! I- Sorry!”

He went to pick everything up, but Loki put a hand out, stopping him. Peter stayed as still as he could while Loki gathered everything and put it back in its folder. Loki stood up, dragging Peter to his feet too. He left him stood there and put the folder into the little lockable filing cabinet by the desk. 

“Daddy, I-”

“Not a word” Loki said. “I know exactly what you were doing”

He picked up his phone off the bed, opening it and clicking the button to see the recently viewed items. Peter had definitely taken leave of his senses, leaving everything out in the open like this. 

“I-I’m gonna go” Peter tried.

“No, I think not” Loki said. He held a hand up, and the door slammed shut. 

Peter swallowed hard. Loki hadn’t looked at him properly since he’d walked in, and Peter’s senses were screaming at him. He wished he’d just left everything alone.

“You came into my room without permission” Loki started, setting his phone down on his bedside table. “You go through my personal files, y-”

“Why have you got all that stuff? Is that from when you were in Scotland before? Were you gonna stay a lot longer?”

“Peter, do you really think that’s important?” 

“...Is that a yes?”

Loki looked at him. “You try to get into my tablet. You get into my phone, you look at my private notes and messages”

“Not all of them!”

“Found your tongue, I see” Loki said. “You went through my things, you came in here without permission, you’ve invaded my privacy and you’ve betrayed my trust in you”

“I-I didn’t mean to! I just heard you on the phone and I thought something might be wrong and I wanted to find out what”

“And you didn’t think to just ask me?”

Peter stopped, and he felt himself blush. 

“I’m really not happy with you, young man”

Peter looked down, shuffling on his feet. “...Am I in trouble?”

“YES, you’re in trouble!” Loki snapped, making the boy jump. “If you’d listened instead of interrupting, you’d know why. Although, judging by your face when I caught you red-handed, you already know why. You know you’ve done wrong”

“Mm... I didn’t mean to”

“What did you think would be the outcome, if you came in here and started going through my things without permission, and got caught? Did you stop to consider that?”

“Well...”

Loki folded his arms over his chest. Peter took a step back, and dared look at his father, at the look in his eyes, and the slight tremble of his left arm. 

“I’m sorry”

Loki didn’t say anything. He sat down on the bed, resting his head in his hand.

“...Daddy?”

Loki stayed quiet, thinking. Was he right to be this angry? Was it really as bad as he though it was? Had any real harm actually been done? What should he do? Punish the boy in the way his first, second, and third instincts were telling him to? Let him go without consequence? Risk him doing it again, and maybe finding more? He’d found so much in eight minutes. How much could he find in an hour? He might even reach the right conclusion if he had long enough.

“Get my tea”

Peter did as he was told, surprised by the request, but still cautious. He watched Loki sip his drink and sit up a little straighter. It looked like he was calmer, like he was relenting. For a moment they looked at each other, and just when it looked as though Loki was about to say something, there was a knock, and the door opened.

“Hey, a- oh, you’re both here” Tony said. “What’s going on?”

Loki sighed. “I found him going through my phone and private things”

“What?!” Tony marched over, the look on his face bringing a new meaning to Hell Hath No Fury. “How DARE you?!”

“I-”

“No, don’t interrupt!” Tony snapped, making him face him properly. “You shouldn’t have been in here without permission anyway! How dare you betray our trust like this? Why I-”

Loki watched them, feeling absent. He watched the way Tony spoke to Peter. The way he snapped at him. And then the way he shouted at him. He looked at his hand on the boys wrist, keeping him there. He watched the way Peter tried to shut down the situation, the way he tried to explain but kept getting cut off. He saw the look in the boys eyes. 

“I’m sick to death of your behaviour! I never would have gotten away with acting like this, and neither are you”

Tony tugged the boy close and hit him hard. Peter’s squeak, the next smack, and the sound of the boy crying broke Loki out of his dazed state.

“Tony!”

“He’ll never learn if we don’t discipline him” Tony said through gritted teeth, bringing his hand down again. 

“I’m sorry!!” Peter cried.

“There” Tony said. “You’ve had an apology now”

“He’s already apologised!”

Tony didn’t seem to be listening. Loki stood still for a moment, trying to think about things rationally. But another horrible smack, followed by the sight of his son howling and begging his father not to hurt him anymore was more than enough to make up his mind.

“Tony, stop it!” Loki grabbed Tony’s wrist. “You’re being too hard on him! It’s not that big a deal, and certainly not enough for you to be hurting him like this! Stop it now!!”

“He can take a few taps, Lolly” Tony said, but he let go of the boy.

Loki quickly moved Peter away from Tony, shielding him as he hugged him. 

“Are you alright?! Be honest with me, honey”

Peter covered his mouth with his hand, keeping his eyes averted, sobbing. Loki hugged him tight, protectively, willing the boy to stop shaking. He glared at Tony over his shoulder.

“You’ve scared him, you bastard!” he all but shouted. “You can’t take out all your pent-up emotions on our little boy!”

“I’m not!” Tony protested. “I’m being a parent”

“You’re being a bully” Loki shot back. “Do you want him to go and live with Thor, is that it?”

“What are you going on about?”

“That’s what happened last time you didn’t think he was safe with you. If you don’t sort yourself out, he’ll have to go again”

“Lolly, darling, you’re tired. Let’s talk about this in the morning” Tony said awkwardly.

“No, let’s talk about it now” Loki said, sitting Peter down on the bed and turning to Tony properly. “I don’t care how much you want to deny it, we both know you’ve been horrible to Peter ever since you got those DNA test results”

“Are you surprised? It’s a lot to process!”

“I know it’s a lot to process! But that’s not a reason nor an excuse for you treating him so badly. I can’t be here all the time, and-”

“Loki, I’m not being horrible to him! He’s the one being a little nightmare!”

“He’s being fine!”

“He was going through your stuff!”

“And I was handling it! You didn’t need to barge in here and launch an attack, did you? You’ve hurt him multiple times since that appointment, and the scariest part is you seem to think it’s just discipline or something, or you’re just a very good actor. You can’t seem to see that there’s a difference between a firm smack and an absolute wallop like you’ve been dolling out”

“I haven’t been that harsh!” Tony insisted. “...Have I?”

“Who in their right mind would react to those results the way you have? Thank god our kid is the only one, if this is how you are”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You talked to that Asgard man?” Peter piped up nervously.

“Yes, I did, sweetheart, even though it put me at risk of bumping into all the other bastards up there, because you asked me to, and you needed to know. And so did I”

“...He’s really the only one?” Tony said, suddenly a lot calmer.

“Yes, and I’m bloody glad of it too, and not in the least because you’ve reacted so badly to this that I’m not sure I even trust you around him right now”

Tony didn’t say anything, but he looked shame-faced. Loki didn’t look any happier for it.

“You need to face up to this and start acting like a proper dad again. Your denial is doing no one any good, and your way of ‘processing’ your emotions is damaging us. But it’s starting to seem more and more unlikely that you’re ever going to accept this new reality, unless you’re forced to” he said. “And maybe doing that is a good idea”

Loki picked up his phone, checking the time. It was still fairly early. Good.

“What are you doing?” Tony said.

“Making you face up to this”

“You can’t do that!”

“Watch me”

Peter flinched at the struggle that followed. Part of him wanted to jump in and make it stop, but he felt like he’d already caused enough trouble for one day. Tony was no match for Loki anyway. Peter looked at them. Tony had ended up on his back, hands trapped by his sides, with Loki sat on top of him with one hand holding his phone, and the other over Tony’s mouth. Something about it seemed to be evidence of truce - or at least, something close to it.

“Hello, Marco, my love” Loki said. “Have you got a pen? Perfect. I’ve got a little something for our press release”

Tony tried to struggle and get Loki to stop, unsuccessfully. He looked over at Peter for help. Peter knew what that look meant, but there was no way he was going to jump to Tony’s aid, not after how hard he’d hit him. He flopped against Loki’s pillows and hid his face so Tony couldn’t throw any more signals at him.

“Word for word, darling, promise me that now. You can choose a little opening if need be, mind” Loki was saying. “Everything ready? Beautiful. So, this is what I was thinking” Loki cleared his throat. “Due to recent findings in our personal lives, my husband decided to carry out a paternity test on himself and our son, under the guidance of our General Practitioner. Having now had time to process the results, we are happy to announce to the general public the wonderful coincidence that our son, Peter, is also my husband Tony’s biological son. While shocked by the discovery, we still remain the same family of equal parents and child. We will not be available for interview and ask that our families privacy be respected during this time”

“Nice... Nice, beautiful” Peter heard Marco saying over the phone. “Great! Tony got anything to add?”

Loki paused, his hand still over Tony’s mouth. “Tony Stark is not available for comment”

*

[mothercetrion]

Can you please do blackabal otp meme please

i LOVE blackabal. thank you for the ask!!

1) Who rocks the Ferris Wheel seat and who flips out and begs them to stop? Erron does the rocking. It’s a miracle they’re even up there because Kabal isn’t a huge fan of heights. Erron rocks the seat to freak him out, but he’ll stop eventually.

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place and at any time? They both have high sex drives, but they know they can’t just stop what they’re doing to have sex. If he’s able, then Erron will pick a place to have sex, and it’s usually outside the bedroom. He’s adventurous.

3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time? Kabal is secretly a huge bath guy. He loves the hot water that relaxes him… and cleanses him from a day of dealing with Kano. He convinces Erron to join him, and he’s a bath guy too now! Erron tries often to make it sexy, and Kabal can’t resist him sometimes…

4) Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on? Erron tends to take off his clothes a lot if he’s able to. He gets hot easily and doesn’t care to be naked. Kabal isn’t that comfortable doing that and asks that Erron at least put on some pants.

5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight? Erron. He would rather Kabal have their comfier bed if he’s upset. In addition, he needs the time to himself to chill out. He eventually goes back to the bed and asks for Kabal’s forgiveness over whatever they were fighting about.

6) Who takes photos of the other while they sleep? Kabal. Even though Erron doesn’t see it, Kabal thinks he’s extremely attractive and loves looking at his face. Erron doesn’t like looking at pictures of himself but knows it makes Kabal happy so he lets him take more.

7) Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”? Kabal said it first during an argument. Erron said it back almost immediately. “You can’t go on that mission! Kano’s trying to get you killed!” “Why do you care so badly, Kabal?!” “Because I love you, you dumbass! And I don’t want you getting hurt or killed!” “Well, I love you too! And I want to go on this mission if it means that we can get out of here sooner!” They were both beyond shocked, and it led to them hugging and kissing, whispering “I love you” to one another a second time each.

8) Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts? Kabal loves wearing Erron’s sweatshirts. They’re big on him and smell like him and make him feel really safe. He also wears his hat sometimes. It makes Erron smile when he sees him in it.

9) Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? Who has the most nightmares, and who sings them back to sleep after? Neither of them wake the other up; Erron rarely dreams, and Kabal doesn’t like discussing his dreams. They both have nightmares. If Kabal has a nightmare, he snuggles up right into Erron, and he sings a quiet song to ease him back to sleep. Erron has worse nightmares and tries to power through them on his own, and when Kabal comforts him, he hides away in his chest; Kabal talks to him to distract him and help him calm down.

10) Who is more likely to cheat at games (cards, board games, etc.)? Both of them. They play poker a lot, and they cheat every single time so they don’t lose any money. Erron’s better at hiding his cheating (but only if he’s wearing his mask), and Kabal’s methods are always found out.

11) Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship? Kabal does the teasing. “You thought I was sweeter than a bucket of cherries, huh?” “Well, it’s sweeter than a cherry pie, and yeah, I did.”

12) Who starts a food fight in the kitchen? Kabal. It quickly turns into a war, which quickly turns into a makeout session, covered in flour and batter.

13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer? Neither of them initiate duets because they don’t sing very often. Erron is definitely the better singer, and Kabal adores his voice.

14) Who starts the hand holding? Who grabs the others butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops? Erron initiates hand holding to keep Kabal closeby, and he won’t admit it, but holding Kabal’s hand helps him feel safer. Kabal is often sliding his arm around his waist and moving his hand to his butt if they’re alone. They both do the belt loop thing when they wanna stick near each other or get closer to one another.

15) Who likes writes the others name on their wrist? Erron. If he’s gone a while, then he writes Kabal’s name to keep it close to his heart.

16) Who is more seductive when they are drunk? and who is louder in bed? Erron is more seductive all around, but he’s doubly seductive when he’s drunk. They’re both kinda loud, but Kabal has more loud outbursts.

17) Who is more protective? Erron. He ain’t gonna let anyone get close enough to Kabal to hurt him; he’s the first person in a while that likes Erron for who he is and loves him, and dammit he’s not gonna lose him!

18) Who talks to the other while they are sleeping? Erron. He always makes sure that he’s asleep and always stops if he thinks that he’s awake. He tells him how much he loves him and how much he means to him. He also confesses deep worries he has that he would never say out loud to anyone.

19) Who drives and who has the window seat? Erron loves driving so he tries to drive more. Kabal sits in the passenger seat so he can look out the window and navigate.

20) Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed? Erron falls asleep on Kabal all the time. He doesn’t sleep as often as he needs to, and sometimes they’ll be cuddling and he just passes out. He also doesn’t know when to take a break. Poor man. Kabal rubs his back to help him stay asleep because he knows that he needs the rest. He isn’t strong enough to carry him to bed, he sorta just… hoists him up and lets his feet drag. He’s careful that Erron stays asleep when they make it to their bed, and he always cuddles with him once they’re in bed, knowing it’ll help him sleep.

21) Who cuts the others hair? Neither of them. Kabal doesn’t have a lot of hair to cut, and Erron cuts his own hair. Kabal likes to watch him cut his hair though.

22) Who is super bad at sexting? and who sends them encouraging messages throughout the day? Both of them are horrible at it. They have little competitions who can make the worst sexts because they know they’re awful, and it’s a good laugh. Not necessarily encouraging, but Kabal does check up on Erron all day, and Erron does the same thing.

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of loosing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry? Erron is always worried, deep down, that Kabal is gonna wake up one day and realize that he isn’t a good boyfriend and he’s gonna ditch him. He’s worried that he’s gonna lose the one person who he can be himself around. His relationship with Kabal is his first super serious relationship and he wants to do a really good job. Kabal always assures him that he’s a fantastic boyfriend and that he loves him more than anyone in the world.

24) Who starts random slow dancing with the other in the kitchen? Who holds the other just above the ground and kisses them? Erron starts the slow dancing. He’ll put on a record and they’ll just sway, holding one another close while Erron hums along. He loves holding Kabal up, being slightly taller, and kissing him.

25) Who says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see the other giggle and blush? Kabal. He is really good at jokes and loves the sound of Erron’s laugh and the sight of his smile.

26) Who kissed first? Kabal. It was the first time he had ever seen him maskless when they properly kissed; before that, it was only pecks with Kabal closing his eyes for the sake of Erron’s comfort. Kabal was so smitten by Erron’s looks that he just kissed him right there, leaving Erron a blushing, stuttering mess.

27) Who orders take out at two in a morning? and who wakes the other up at three in the morning to go downstairs with them to get a glass of water because it’s too dark? He doesn’t order take out, but if it’s late and he’s up, then Erron will rummage the kitchen for food. If Kabal’s up, he walks around with him wherever he goes.

28) Who writes poems/stories and love songs about the other? Do they sing the songs the write for them? Erron writes songs for Kabal a lot. He’s a songwriter at heart and has a lot of feelings about Kabal that he needs to express. He’s saving a performance for a special occasion.

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires? They work together to do some crazy stunt with both hookswords and guns at the same time (“When you toss your hooksword in the air, I’m gonna shoot it, and you’re gonna catch it again when it heads back towards you!” “That’s a great idea, baby!”), and they both always get hurt. They’re quick to patch one another up and give kisses where needed.

30) Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute? Kabal has glasses that he wears at home that he hates. Erron thinks they’re really nice.

[tamasous]

OSAKA SOUGO [12 SONGS GIFT] Birthday Rabbit Chat Part 1: 12 SONGS GIFT

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5

Tsumugi: Sougo-san, thank you for your hard work! It’s almost your birthday!

Sougo: Thank you for your hard work, manager. That’s right, thanks for remembering.

Tsumugi: Of course! All the IDOLiSH7 members and your fans are looking forward to celebrating your birthday with you!

Sougo: That makes me happy. Speaking of birthdays, it’s almost time for “12 SONGS GIFT ~always watch over us~.”

Tsumugi: Yes! You were looking forward to it, right?

Sougo: Yeah. Performing solo onstage will make me nervous, but I’m looking forward to choosing my own song. I’m happy that I’ll be able to see what kind of image others have of me, and to be able to hear many people’s songs.

Tsumugi: Thank you! I’m very happy to hear you say that!

Tsumugi: I believe you know this already, but please allow me to explain “12 SONGS GIFT.”

Tsumugi: “12 SONGS GIFT” is a large audition sponsored by each record company and entertainment office. With “the singer born in this month” as the theme, many songwriters and composers, pros and amateurs alike, participate in this challenge.

Tsumugi: A songwriter and composer may team up, or one person may write a song by themselves with “the singer born in this month” as the image.

Sougo: Iori-kun and the others’ songs were all good. Iori-kun fit his image perfectly, and Yamato-san was cool. Mitsuki-san’s song was gentle and pretty, and Tamaki-kun’s song was very much like Tamaki-kun. This sounds over-exaggerated, but I was moved.

Sougo: It made me think, ‘so these are the types of songs everyone chooses’, and 'this is how everyone sings when they’re alone.’

Tsumugi: Those thoughts are very fitting for Sougo-san who loves music!

Sougo: Thanks. Ah, you were in the middle of your explanation, right? Sorry. 

Tsumugi: No problem! In  “12 SONGS GIFT”, there are various departments such as the rock department, Enka department, and pop department. IDOLiSH7 was selected to be in the male idol department. (1)

Tsumugi: The selection meeting, which you said you were looking forward to, is when you are given the chance to listen to many submissions. 

Sougo: I’m really looking forward to it. I feel like I’ll get so immersed in listening that I won’t have enough time. 

Tsumugi: It seems you’re challenging yourself to writing songs recently. If you were to write a song about yourself, what kind of song would it be?

Sougo: I wonder, that’s difficult.

Sougo: In order to write a song about myself, I’d have to know myself….. I thought I understood myself, but being with everyone makes me continuously discover new things every day.

Sougo: I still have a long ways to go until I can create a song with myself as the theme. I think that’ll be after I’m able to make all sorts of songs.

Sougo: There’s that, and I’m looking forward to listening to all the songs that different people wrote in my image.

Tsumugi: I’m really looking forward to it too! Please do your best with “12 SONGS GIFT”!

Sougo: Same to you.

Tsumugi: Sougo-san, do you still have some time?

Sougo: Yeah, I’m just relaxing at the dorm.

Tsumugi: Things will get busy before and after your birthday, so I wanted to express my words of gratitude to you while I can….

Sougo: You don’t have to go to such trouble. But trying to express your words in such a formal way is very like you since you do your work properly. 

Tsumugi: No way! Then, I’ll say it now.

Sougo: Okay. Somehow I feel a bit embarrassed.

Tsumugi: (blushing Kinako emoji)

Sougo: (blushing Kinako emoji)

Tsumugi: Dear Sougo-san,

Tsumugi: For both IDOLiSH7 and MEZZO", thank you very much for always completing your work in a serious manner.

Sougo: It’s my pleasure.

Tsumugi: There are many things I can learn from your kindness and strong sense of responsibility.

Tsumugi: When I leave it to you, I can do any work without worry.

Tsumugi: However, there was a time when I relied on you too much and caused you trouble… I still deeply regret that time.

Sougo: It’s fine. It was my fault for not reporting to you.

Tsumugi: Recently I often see you sitting back and relaxing while also enjoying your work. It makes me happy to be able to see that.

Tsumugi: When I say it like this, people around you may say it’s because you’re kind and easy to talk to, but… I think it’s because your serious and kind personality is trusted and loved by others.

Tsumugi: It seems your concern and kindness is being returned to you, which makes me very happy.

Sougo: So you thought of me in such a way…

Sougo: Being serious or kind is something anyone can do, so I lacked confidence in whether or not I was useful to everyone. But if the things I’ve done have improved IDOLiSH7’s environment by even a little bit, then I’d be very happy. 

Tsumugi: Of course! 

Tsumugi: Please continue to be yourself and to fulfill your dreams at your own pace. I will always support you! 

Tsumugi: Please don’t push yourself too hard, and please take proper care of your body. 

Tsumugi: Sougo-san, happy birthday!

Sougo: Thank you, manager. That made me super happy. I was able to gain confidence and courage in the things I’ve accomplished.

Tsumugi: I’m glad it made you happy..!

Sougo: Do you give this message to everyone? I bet it made Tamaki-kun and Mitsuki-san happy. Yamato-san and Iori-kun must have gotten embarrassed.

Tsumugi: What about you, Sougo-san?

Sougo: I was embarrassed, but it put me at ease. It gave me feelings of happiness.

Sougo: Even though today isn’t my birthday, today became special because of you. 

Sougo: Thank you.

Tsumugi: I’m happy about that. I was nervous and my heart was racing, but I’m glad I was able to tell you.. 

Sougo: How cute. In order to answer your message, I have to do my best with the “12 SONGS GIFT.”

Tsumugi: Yes! Please do! (fire Ousama Purin emoji) 

Sougo: (punching Ousama Purin emoji)

Tsumugi: Let’s work hard together on the “12 SONGS GIFT” and solo live!

Sougo: (thumbs up Ousama Purin emoji)

T/N: (1) Enka is a traditional Japanese music genre. (2) In the middle of proofreading translations for part 2 and 3! Part 2 is available!

[goodguidanceptc]

Louisville IM Race Report October 14, 2018

Welcome coaches, training buddies, close friends and masochists/insomniacs. As with prior race reports, be warned that this post contains STRONG LANGUAGE. Here goes:

Abstract:

Read the Athlete Guide. Always. Miserable cold and wet conditions. Water temp warmer than air temp, wetsuit legal. Absurd Swim (shortened due to aggressive current); T1 was all about gear choices; Adequate Bike under demanding conditions; T2 was also all about gear choices; Tough Run. Two key takeaways: 1) Read the Athlete Guide; 2) I haven't quite properly calibrated in-race fueling.

Total race time result = 10:18*

* Under grossly dis-humane weather conditions and my own flubs, that is a good result...with which I am completely unsatisfied. A no-surprise, well-managed bike and a somewhat uneven run (matched stand-alone marathon result). Feel free to stop reading now.

Pre-Race (aka: “the Dumbening”)

I cannot emphasize strongly enough: no matter how many races you’ve done, how confident you may be in knowing the procedures, the timing, the places, etc... read and re-read the Athlete Guide.

So although I cannot provide details, just know that I--through my own dumbness--was told to acquire my timing chip in T1 after an official manually noted my swim start time, while standing on the dock to jump into the Ohio River. Clearly communicated in multiple places: check-in closes at 5pm Friday. 

Brief rewind: woke up, standard pre-race breakfast, uneventful gear check and load bottles onto bike, walked over to Swim in. Shoulda found an IM staffer then, but didn’t think. Just didn't think it through; too cold and pre-race- process oriented. Got a little tunnel vision to get to the front of the self-seeded “1-1:10″ swim line. 

Announcer: The current is so strong, some of the pros were struggling to get up river. Swim shortened to .9 mile, in other words an Olympic distance. Race delayed. 

Some squats to stay warm, chat up some folks in line, never once thought to go  get my chip before passing though that big black arch.

Swim (:18 min or 1:18/100 pace)

I swear to you by all the barge traffic and catfish whiskers in the Ohio River, there is no way I was in that river for 18 minutes. More on this in T1. Feet first into the river, sight that first buoy and...

Ever look through a kaleidoscope? Or imagine a Disney version of puke from a flying whale?  The view from my goggles was: 

[Kayaks + swim caps + buoys]

X

(river current exceeding posted speed limits) 

= 

flying Disney whale puke (as I imagine it rendered)

Just utter chaos. I aimed for the big wall, hit the metal steps and out. To quote one of my training partners, “My hair barely got wet.”

T1 (9:20)

Up the steps and skipped the peelers. Rationale: stay as warm as possible as long as possible. Jogged to changing tent, quickly passed the clumping “under 1 hour” swimmers, grabbed a chair near the exit.

Decision time on what to wear and how much skin to cover for the bike. I went with 100% coverage. Socks, thermal legs, long sleeves, gloves, balaclava. Plastic bag under the jersey and five of those little hand warmers hunters use (squeeze and shake for 6+ hours warming) in my back jersey pockets.

Out to bike rack, unhook and... it’s find-my-chip time. Found an IM staffer who radioed multiple people before finally sending me past the Bike Out arch to where the chip folks were.

I.  Stood. There.  Forrr -- evv -- errr. 

Trying to alleviate my own frustration and anxiety, I literally put my head in my hands and made Hulk sounds.

Now, even in my adrenalized and hyper-performance-oriented state, I remember that I brought this shit on myself. So any expectation of special treatment, expedited problem-solving or what I call the lack of a “hop to!” by IM staffers simply cannot be criticized.  This crapola? All.  On.  Me.

Furthermore, I'm grateful. (Check prior race reports, if you must. OR just trust me when I say that...) I thank all the volunteers and cops and EMTs and Traffic Management and general staff within earshot. No matter what speed I’m biking or running. Seriously. I’m all about appreciation.

All that said, Swim and T1 times are clearly inaccurate. Although IM staff noted the time of day I jumped into the water, another IM staffer wrote my time on a clipboard when they activated my chip and yet another other IM staff told me they’d estimate my T1 time. But I didn’t know precisely where to go in T1. So I lingered.

[So again: read the Athlete Guide.]

And if you are ever in that situation--which I guaran-frikkin-tee you I will NEVER be--I recommend you DO NOT stop to ask questions. Continue until you happen upon the chip folks. Worst case: you miss them and back track... the biking equivalent of going back to get dropped nutrition.

Bike (5:43)

While I definitely did not feel myself relax heading down River Road, I did feel a certain familiar comfort. I’d ridden this course a few times so even in the cold, wet wind, I was pretty confident I could manage the bike.

In the spirit of gratitude, whether passing or getting passed, I try to say something positive (looking good, go git some, stay strong).

Even on a hilly course, I ended up pacing with a few others. I try to be sensitive to any ‘gamesmanship’ (I’m not trying to get in your head competitively) but I'm definitely chatty. And the cold and wet just invited comment, even if only to distract from the misery.

Stick out and first loop was uneventful other than the number of people shivering on the sides of the route. Second loop had more than a few cars on course that seemed patient and considerate (relatively, IMO) but still required careful negotiations.

A FEW FIRSTS FOR ME

BLINDING ANGER. I admit I might have been “kicking the cat” but I’ve never experienced this on course.

On the back side of the loop, in the narrow stretch of blacktop through the small neighborhood just after the long descent out of La Grange, there’s short, steep descent with a well-marked/painted “BUMP” before a short, steep uphill. I’m a technically strong and confident cyclist so getting through here on the first loop was a piece of cake. Second time though, there was a hefty pack of windbreakers weaving(!) across the entire width of the road. Despite shouting “on your left” repeatedly and loudly, I had to brake. On an uphill. Dropped my chain. Nearly fell. Unclipped.  All in the tiny 8ish yards of that short ascent. 

What did I do? Stood there trying to get my chain back on and swearing profusely that dickhead bucket-listers with fucking no fucking business fucking leaving their fucking strip-mall periodontist practices should fucking learn to handle their goddamn bikes.

As I passed them on the descent towards the hay-bale bullseye, I gently advised them about blocking, race etiquette and having some goddamn self-awareness. In my defense, I averaged very nearly 20mph that day. And when I accidentally felt somebody too close as they passed, I always apologized. In retrospect, I’m sorry I was that guy right then. 

PROFOUND SOLITUDE Stay with me as I get a little bing-bongy here... At the split to repeat the loop or return on the stick, most folks (the fat part of the bell curve) go left for their second loop.  I was returning on the stick. 

Suddenly I was not saying or hearing “on your left” or listening for the difference between aero wheels or a passing car. 

I was alone. Like the guy in that Robert Frost poem. Miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep. And the mental chatter started. Cold. Grey. Wet. Stupid. Wasteful. What ego on you, chump. Clips from Moby Dick, Chapter 96. Burning ship, drove on to some vengeful deed. Gloom. There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. ee cummings A Leaf Falls. 

[Stop wasting your time with this race report. Go read some actual writers.]

Even my mantras had abandoned me. I may have started singing or rapping something from my training playlist to shut down the negative chatter. And that’s about when I realized how well I was managing this bike leg. I think that’s called a paradox.

DON’T BLOW IT NOW Somewhere along one of the last ascents, I realized that I’d dressed properly! Coach Robbie’s advice for plastic grocery bag was spot on. Sure the toes and fingers were cold, but functional. Ears and neck felt okay and core temp was a non-issue. I wondered if I’d taken enough calories (thought: probably) but come on! I’d handled some real shitball conditions pretty well. 

T2 (8:49)

Pulled off everything soaking wet except kit shorts. Replaced with dry thermal long-sleeve top, dry hat, dry gloves. Run belt, bottle, dry socks, shoes. Go.

While neither T1 or T2 were very fast, I really didn’t linger in the warmth. I remember thinking, “Take two deep breaths, make this decision and move it.” In other words, time was spent actually changing clothes.

BTW, Transition volunteers? True Guardian Bros. Can’t thank em enough.

Run (3:58 aka: avg 9:03/mi)

Two MAJOR joyous moments within the first mile:

1) As we’d pre-planned, my unbelievably awesome wife told me I was 18 minutes behind a podium slot. She told me later that I barked, “FUCK!” Regardless, I steal a kiss every race.  Better than a GU and just as sweet. [Yes she reads these. Wink!] 

2) Coincidentally, she was standing a few feet from Coach Robbie (C26), who I recognized but accidentally called Mike (his podcast co-host who I knew was on course). I think I shook his hand? Or maybe just shouted a happy shout?

So those two intercepts helped make the first 25% of the run all good.  I kept turning down the pace because, as Coach Robbie has said, “your legs are lying to you.”

Then all that good ju-ju abandoned me like buoys on the Ohio River on the backside of the first loop.

I’d dropped my Infinit before finishing the entire first 24oz bottle. Why not stop and get it? I got no good rational answer. Ditched hat and gloves and actually rolled up my sleeves. My legs and shoes were soaked. (Walk-peeing wasn’t doing me any favors.) 

I felt better once I had another bottle from my Special Needs bag, but by then I’d already burned my biscuits (another C26 gem) so I was well below my planned and expected 8:40/mile pace.

I may have even cried a little. Apologies to extremely helpful volunteer who graciously ignored a grown-ass man losing his shit. I KNOW i was talking to myself, “It’s all in your head. Move it.” and other more terrible words.

The last 25% in-bound was an exercise in utter stubbornness. Coke Gatorade Coke Gatorade Coke Gatorade and tons of verbal self-flagellation to keep going. I sincerely believe I passed two guys in my AG out of pure self-loathing.

The Fourth Street Live finish lived up to the hype. There’s photographic evidence that I actually smiled as I crossed and nearly collapsed (again, super kudos to the volunteers). I was wheeled straight to medical, shivering and borderline shock-ey. Broth, blankets, checked vitals (core temp too low). As planned, Susan brought me multiple layers of dry clothes. Changed. Got my mental shit together after finding out I’d finished 16th. Gold star to Al V., the med tent massage therapist. Another Guardian Bro.  Limped home.

OVERALL RACE GRADE: PASS

As with prior races, IM-LOU yielded incremental improvements in all racing phases. As I said at the top, this was a good result, with which I am completely unsatisfied.

Am I one of the guys at the pointy end of the bell curve? Clearly yes. 

Did I KQ? Unequivocal NO. Not even close.

There is clearly opportunity for additional incremental improvements to all five aspects of my racing:

Swim pace was an anomaly. 3x/wk in the lap pool could be improved by 2x/wk in endless pool.

Bike power was lost due to shitass Garmin tech. But from what I remember, I was mostly high Z2 with relatively few power spikes given the course and conditions. I definitely managed the bike with patience and smarts.

Run suffered due to fueling strategy that is just not... quite...perfected. And again, deplorable conditions.

Fuel strategy. I over corrected from IM-AZ (early run GI problems). Calories, liquids (no solids) and delivery method feels right. Timing around T2 needs tweaking.

Transitions were what they were. MY dumbassery in T1 was offset by my smart gear decisions.

See you in New Zealand in March, 2019!

WITH GRATITUDE FOR...

I’m very grateful to my lovely wife Susan and my wonderful kids, Peter and Veronica for their support. Susan, you are my salvation.

I’m grateful to have the expert professionals Coach Klebacha and Coach Sharone and the entire Well-Fit staff and athletes who generously share their wisdom.

I’m grateful to my inspiring and impressive training partners, including but not limited to the TriFam, the Well-Fit Elite Team (too many bad-asses to list but special GOLD STARS to LIZ and LAURA) and other triathlete rockstars like Nic, Dana, Andrew, John, James, Tony, and all the Pauls and Mikes.

I’m very grateful to anybody willing to excuse my terrible smell, deplorable language and barbaric sounds during training.

Maximum gratitude to Well-Fit, FFC, UIC, Whitney Young, Get-A-Grip, Live Grit, Fleet Feet, the Lakeshore path, Louisville Landsharks.

I’m grateful for Crushing Iron (C26), Matt Fitzgerald, Joe Friel, Training Peaks, Scott brand bikes, Apple, Ironman.

Thank you to all the on-course maniacs cheering and making signs and wearing all sorts of crazy outfits to show love and support. For strangers exercising.

Special thanks and appreciation to Bernie Mc for the most amazing on course support. Extra special Top Marks to Bernie!

I’m grateful that I’m able to race triathlons. Thanks for reading.

[joonsgalaxy]

The Dark Side of the Moon | 2

Part:  1  2  3  Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: romance/fluff, angst, soulmate AU, bestfriend!Yoongi Word count: 9 k Summary:  You’re destined to be with one particular man for the rest of your life, but what happens when your trust in fate crumbles, when the doubts slowly float to the surface of your mind and when your heart starts longing for another man? You can try to ignore all of that, but it’s there, just like the dark side of the moon.

‘Are you ready yet?’ The voice of your father snakes its way from downstairs up to your room.

Ugh is the only thing floating in your mind at the moment. A sound of frustration, annoyance, vexation-ugh. You don‘t like to rush, at all. Not only the necessity of going to the event is making you feel a nervous fluttering in your belly, but now you have to shout back coming!, glance quickly at the mirror for the last time before leaving and then run downstairs to messily put on your shoes in the hallway. This is most definitely not healthy, you think.

‘Your mother said people are already gathering,’ you hear your father speaking to you as you crouch down to put your shoes on.

‘We don’t have to be the first ones to arrive there, you know.’

‘We worked hard on this, especially your mom. She’ll be glad to see us before it gets too crowded to even notice us.’

//

Your father hands the car keys to the parking valet once you arrive at the place. The massive white mansion comes into view as you walk past the gates surrounded by flawlessly groomed trees. The fountain in front of the mansion has some fine details which only can be seen here, in this protected territory. The decorative features so delicate, so fascinating, nothing you could find outside this park. The splendid art on the mansion itself makes the air around it magical. It takes you by your hand, sings to you as it welcomes you to the bright days when it was first built; must be at least three hundred years ago. As you walk on a wide path that curls its way around the mansion and goes on behind it into the charm of the park you can't help but imagine what life looked like back then, what clothes people wore, how they talked to each other, what kind of worries tormented them.

When the weather lets to have the party outside (and today the weather is just lovely), all the guests gather up in that very area behind the mansion. The paths there loop themselves around the trees and some open lawns with perfectly cut grass.

 ‘I’m going to say hello to some people,’ your father says, ‘Try to have some fun, okay?’ His expectant eyes urge you and your sister to utter an okay in unison, although, as he walks away you wonder if that’ll be possible to do.

‘Do you want to go look for mom?’ As you finish uttering the question your sister is already waving at someone in front of you two, and when your eyes register that someone-her best friend-among the other people, not to sound dramatic, but the same dispiriting feeling of frustration drains your bones of any hope to have a good, decent time here.

‘I’m gonna hang out with Kyoo Ri,’ your sister gleefully shouts to you, basically bouncing away.

Fair enough.

Looks like you're alone in this.

A sigh leaves you, your legs starting to move slowly, eyes roaming around. People, standing in groups of two or three, briefly glance your way with disinterested looks; women and men wearing jewellery that most certainly cost more than your entire outfit, but that doesn’t bother you one bit, you just couldn’t care less about that kind of stuff.

A cute dress, some make up and neatly brushed hair is all you need to feel comfortable in this kind of event.

The youngest person here must be thirteen or something; you guess nobody's got time to actually take care of small children here, so they just leave them at home with nannies.

‘Hello,’ a low voice right beside your ear startles you.

You swing around to find Yoongi smiling down at you.

You haven’t seen him-or Jaehoon-in a few weeks because of the exams. It’s the first time meeting him since that thunderstorm and you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t start to race a little.

You utter an oh, hi and he grabs a bite snack from a tray which is gracefully carried by a waitress working here for the party.

‘Having fun?’ he questions.

“Yeah, so much fun,’ you make sure he catches the sarcasm in your tone as he throws the snack into his mouth.

‘Mm-hmm,’ he hums chewing, and time seems to come to a halt for a while, until you notice a small smirk forming on his lips and you realize you’ve been staring a moment too long. The gentle warmth in your cheeks makes you drop your eyes to the ground.

‘You survived your exams,’ he says nonchalantly.

‘Ah, barely, but yeah.’

‘That’s good enough.’ He glances briefly back over his shoulder, ‘Seems the band is going to perform, wanna go to the stage?’ He holds his thumb gesturing behind him.

‘Sure.’

You feel warm as you two walk beside one another, although just minutes ago the cool evening breeze played on your skin causing the goosebumps to appear on your bare arms.

There are some people already gathered in front of the stage, though most of them are behind you, not paying much attention to the musicians who are now saying their hellos. Majority of the guests are here to make connections; some see this kind of events as opportunity to share their business ideas and what not. You guess, they’re feeling more relaxed here than inside some corporate building, more likely to share their honest thoughts with each other.

As Yoongi stands beside you with his eyes focused on the band, you’re able to properly observe his looks, the black suit fitting him perfectly as if it’s made particularly just for him, white shirt, black tie and dark shoes complimenting each other in a way that makes him look classy, sophisticated.

And for the first time this night you wonder if you chose the right outfit for yourself, like he managed to do.

‘They’re kinda good, huh?’ He asks loudly enough for you to hear him through the music and you realize you weren’t paying any attention to the music or anything at all but Yoongi.

‘Um, I guess,’ you shrug, trying to play it cool, because there’s nothing else to do, really. ‘Well, at least one good thing here, right?’

‘Oh,’ a somewhat smug smile twitches the corners of his lips, ‘Actually I could think of more than one.’

Before you can answer him, there’s a hand on your back urging you to turn around.

‘Glad I found you, dear,’ your mother greets you, eyes-done with professional makeup-gazing at you lovingly. ‘Hello, Min Yoongi,’ her face lights up with a smile, ‘nice to see you here.’

‘Like every year,’ Yoongi answers, a grin on his face, corresponding politeness in his tone.

Actually it’s his third time being here. You’re here for the seventh time if you recall correctly. Your parents started attending these kind of events about ten years ago, right after they joined the City Council, which some like to call The Exclusive Circle, the place for the richest, the smartest. That can only make you giggle-it's so unnecessary and pretty odd, to call it like that, because your parents are neither rich nor exceptionally smart. Though apparently what people mean by referring to The Exclusive Circle is mostly the people who are basically born with the ticket in their hands, a ticket to the perfectly polished hall with leather chairs waiting patiently just for them. Most often their families were in the Original Council, a bunch of scientists who created the whole sorting out soulmates system hundreds of years ago, to make life easier for everyone. It makes you rather proud that people from your city managed to create something the whole world is using now. So, those with the ticket from their birth are in the highest authority; important people taking care of important stuff, seems only fair to you.

Actually, it's not that complicated to get into the Council, if a person is determined to do so. They wouldn't need to make such strenuous efforts as one may think. The only catch is, they stay at the lower level committees than those belonging there from young age, which is totally fine, what with all the advantages that come with joining the Council. Being able to create different projects in your favour can come really handy. Also, you get to set up these kind of parties, which your mother enjoys immensely, for she always had relish in organizing any kind of social gatherings; she's managing a catering company, after all.

When Yoongi and his parents moved to your street, they instantly became friends with your family. That's when your mother coaxed them into joining the Council.  

‘Since I found you guys,’ a more serious expression paints her face, ‘I really would use some help from you. There’s, uh,’ she looks behind her, ‘a little situation that needs to be taken care of.’

‘What kind of situation?’ You question.

‘Nothing serious, but I need a couple of people to help me out, so will you?’ She looks at both of you with hopeful eyes and you just can’t say no.

‘Sure, mom. Lead the way.’

And that’s exactly what she does, marching toward the mansion.

‘So what happened?’ You ask on the way there.

‘One of my employees,’ she momentarily glances at you, ‘O Ha Sang, you remember her, don’t you?’ When she receives a nod from you, she continues, ‘Well, her kid ate some crayons or something and she had to rush home. Also, Chi Tohyon slipped on the floor, probably broke his finger. Ugh, I don’t know what is it about tonight, but there’s no time to wonder.’

As you reach the back entrance of the mansion one of the waiters rushes out through the doorway with a tray in his hands.

Inside, the hall looks as fancy as one would expect. The crystal chandelier hanging from the high cieling above screams extravagancy, the bright walls giving an illusion of an even bigger space than it already is.

The narrow hallway to your left has at least three wooden doors on either side. The delicately carved art on them-fragments of flowers and leafs-and the white paint, chipped at some spots imply the long years they've been rather untouched, save for the swinging back and forth to let people in and out.

The first door on the left reveals a room somewhat similar to a kitchen, partly because of the tables and counters placed there, but mostly because of the amount of food scattered upon the surfaces. A few employees of your mother's company lay out the snacks onto the trays in precise measures as they were taught, one of them taking care of the champagne and wine, pouring the liquids into a bunch of fragile glasses.

After a few words are shared between your mother and her team, she urges you to step through another door in the hallway. The stairs behind these doors seem to lead into some kind of basement, but once your feet land on the last step you come to realization the room is the actual kitchen of the mansion, the interior design of it indicating it was last renovated in 1950s, or around that. A counter on the left with some glasses on top, a few sinks by the wall right in front of you across the room, a few arbitrarily placed chairs and boxes on the right.

'I think I need you two to simply wash the glasses,’ your mother wonders out loud, tilting her head to the side. ‘Yeah, you guys do that and I’ll take care of the food upstairs.’

‘Okay,' you agree, happy that she won't order you to do something more complicated on this already rather stressful night.

‘They will bring the ones that need to be washed and take the ones you already washed. It’s simple, right?’

‘Yup,’ Yoongi answers her, stepping near the sinks to inspect them.                                                

‘Wonderful. Good luck, then’ she grins on her way out.

You walk up to Yoongi, who's now taking his suit jacket off and glance at the sinks briefly, ‘You can go if you want,’ you suggest him, ‘I can manage this by myself.’

‘Go and do what?' He questions, tossing the jacket over one of the chairs. 'At least I’ll be useful here.'

‘Fine. Be useful, then,’ you motion toward the dirty glasses on the counter.

His fingers undo the buttons on the sleeves of his dress shirt, rolling up the fabric, relieving his veiny arms, ‘Of course.’

Washing the first bach goes quite well, if finishing the job without sounds of shattering glass is anything to go by.

The chairs in the room appear useful when you have to wait for one of the employees to bring in another huge tray of used glasses.

After the third time of finishing with the glasses you plop down on the chair, stretching your muscles and watching Yoongi stroll to one of the boxes, peaking inside; the way his eyebrow rises and his lips tilt into a smirk has you interested in the box's content more then ever.

‘We should have some fun too,’ he hints and pulls his hand out of the box, his fingers clutching a bottle of wine.

You roll your eyes heavenward and announce, ‘We have a job to do.'

It only makes him grin. ‘Nothing that we couldn’t do even being a little tipsy.’

You sigh, pondering the question of whether to drink or not to drink all the while Yoongi walks out of the room with the bottle still in his hand and comes back with thuds of his shoes on the stairs, the bottle no longer sealed with a cork.

He stands beside you, lifts the bottle to his mouth and sips as you watch him wide eyed; one, two gulps before he lowers the bottle for you to take it. You pull your lip between your teeth averting your eyes to glance at the counter, where the freshly washed glasses stand and for some reason drinking straight from the bottle excites you more, so you decide to reach up for it.

‘Oh,’ he hastily moves his hand away before you can even touch the bottle. ‘I have a better idea,’ he smirks, ‘Why don’t we play a game?’

A confussion paints your whole face, ‘A game? What kind of game?’

He steps to one of the chairs, drags it across the floor to position it right in front of you, leaving a few feet distance between you two and plops down on it.

‘Truth or drink,’ he grins at you, and when you stay silent for a moment he realizes that you might not know the exact rules of the mentioned game, so he continues, ‘I ask you a question and you either answer honestly or drink.’

‘Well I’d rather just drink,’ you state.

‘And where’s fun in that, huh?’ he cocks his head to the side.

‘I don’t wanna play. Just give me the bottle,’ you hold up your hand only to see him swing the bottle behind himself and place it on the floor.

‘What, do you have something to hide from me?’

‘No.’

He leans forward, resting his elbows upon his thighs, propping his chin onto his hands, a smug smile plastering on his face. ‘What are you then, a chicken?

‘Am not.'

He chuckles, ‘So how’s it gonna be? You playing or not?’

‘Okay, okay, let’s play that stupid game.’

He nods briefly, ‘Ask me something.’

You breath in, breath out. Blank. What could you ask him?

‘Um, how long did it take you to get ready for this party?’

He raises a brow, ‘That’s the question?’ He laughs. ‘Okay, ten minutes or so. What about you?’

‘Forty minutes maybe.’

‘Oh.' He looks you up and down. 'Makes sense.’

���What does that mean?’ You exclaim.

‘Is that the next question?’ He asks, with a certain teasing tone in his voice, and you barely manage to keep yourself from reaching his face with a slap to smack the smirk off his lips.

‘Wait. No.’

As you try to figure out whose turn it is, a waitress comes in with a tray of dirty glasses, placing them down on the counter and picking up the freshly washed ones.

‘Seems we have some work to do,’ he jumps to his feet, saunters to the sinks and you follow behind him.

‘Think of something interesting to ask me,' he says flicking one of the glasses downward, pouring the remnant of champagne down the sink.

You bite your lip, going through the different drawers in your mind, searching for questions to ask him when one in particular catches your attention.

‘What’s the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you?

‘That’s seems more like it. Hmm…’ He puts the glass on the bottom of the sink and squints his eyes in thought, looking straight in front of him at the wall.

'This one's from my childhood,' he begins. 'I really wanted to learn how to ride horses when I was a kid, so my parents eventually brought me to this riding academy and I was so freaking excited, all hyped up about it. My dream was about to come true, y’know. So there was this stunning horse that they helped me to get on and um, let's just say it wasn't as fun as I imagined. When I got off of it, uh, well, I got sick and puked all over myself.' He waves a hand over his upper body.

You laugh like crazy, imagining little Yoongi being so excited and happy, only to puke himself right after his wish came true. ‘Oh my god, that is quite embarrassing.’

‘Yeah, I never came back to that place after.’

'Would you consider trying to learn it now?'

'Hey, it's my turn to ask.'

'Aw come on, can't you just answer a simple question without thinking about the game?'

'Okay, okay,' he chuckles, patting his hands on a towel. 'No, I wouldn't. That dream is long forgotten.'

'Ah, I see,' you nod, placing a freshly washed glass on the tray beside the sink. 'Your turn.'

'Okay,' he chirps, turning to face you. ‘What’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told someone?’

‘Hmm,’ you squint your eyes in thought, fingertips lightly tapping the edge of the sink. ‘This one time I was being careless playing with a ball in the living room and I accidentally hit my mom’s favourite vase,' you sigh, the rather unpleasant memory coming back to you. 'It fell to the ground and shattered. I was freaking out so much and when my parents got home I blamed my sister for the broken vase.’

‘Aw, that’s cute,' he grins.

‘Cute?’

‘If that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told, you’re really innocent,' he quips, patting you on the shoulder.

‘What?’ You exclaim. ‘My parents believed me and my sister was grounded for weeks! It still haunts me.’

‘Okay, okay.’ He holds his hands up as a peace making gesture. ‘You’re the wickedest person I know.’

‘Stop making fun of me.’

‘Oh, I would never!' He gasps. 'You think I’m dumb enough to mock the Devil herself?’

‘Jesus… Will you stop?’

‘Doesn’t it hurt to say the holy name?’ He taunts, arching a brow at you.

‘Yoongi!’ You groan in frustration, and he laughs, reaching up to push his hair from his eyes. You sigh. ‘I would ask you what’s the biggest lie you have told someone, but honestly I don’t wanna now.’ Must be something bad, you think to yourself.

‘Well then,’ he chuckles, shuffling back to take a seat. ‘Think of something else. It’s your turn now.'

You saunter back to the seat across from him, thinking what question to ask. What could you not know about him?

‘What’s the biggest secret you’re keeping from everyone?’

He sits back, inhales deeply squinting his eyes and finally parts his lips to utter a nope. You watch him reach behind his back for the bottle.

‘You’re drinking?’ You ask rather surprised.

‘It’s a drinking game after all, somebody has to.’

'Right.'

Finally, you think to yourself, you managed to think of a question he doesn’t dare to answer. Though, it’s not that fun when you realize he’s keeping something from you. Ugh, he definitely evoked the napping curiosity in you.

Yoongi sips the wine for three times and puts the bottle between you two on the floor.

He leans back, readjusting his sleeve higher up his arm; you notice his tongue lightly brushing over his top lip and his expression becomes one of a man who’s just about to ask something damn serious.

‘Are you in love with Jaehoon?’ His voice echoes through the room and you freeze.

Something tugs at your heart and you look away. This question is like a thousand knives shoved to your back, making your heart thump in your chest twice the speed.

The simple utter of a no would be enough, but there’s one thing to admit it to yourself, and it’s different to say it out loud.

There’s something holding firmly onto your throat, grabbing your vocal cords and twisting them in an agonizingly slow movement, taking away any possibility of you answering.

Your hand reaches for the bottle, your eyes avoiding Yoongi’s as he watches you press your lips to the thick glass and gulp the liquid, drowning anything that is mistreating your dry throat.

‘Two more,’ he commands as you lower the bottle, feeling the warmth trickle down to your belly. You sip willingly two more times, happy that he doesn't question you further about it.

His gaze feels heavy now, awkwardness enveloping you, making you squirm on the chair uncomfortably, nevertheless you try your best not to show him the agitation coursing through your body. You cough subtly, clearing your throat, preparing your voice for another question. You hope it won't quiver, or at least that he won't notice.

You brush off any other thoughts about Jaehoon or Yoongi's scrutinizing eyes and open your mouth to calmly, steadily utter, ‘What would you do right now, if from this precise second for some horrendous reason you had only one minute left to live?’

‘Hmm,’ he crosses his arms against his chest, thinking carefully, with his eyes focused on nothing in particular. Then in a matter of seconds his hands drop to the sides of his thighs grasping tightly the edges of the wooden chair and dragging it toward you until your knees are between his. You wonder what kind of thing it is that he’s about to tell you, most likely something absolutely embarrassing if he has to be that close.

‘I would prob-’ he pauses to correct himself, ‘I would definitely…’

You gaze at him in confusion whereas he exudes confidence and certainty, he looks almost excited.

You’re in utter surprise when his hand rises to cup your cheek in a featherlight touch.

‘I would do this,’ his murmur sends shivers down your spine and there is no possible way you could miss the eagerness in his eyes. If there was a spark in his dark orbs last time you saw him, now it’s a fire, craving to burn all of the borders between you two.

He leans toward you.  This kind of proximity makes your heart thump so fast that you can hear it tattooing in your ears; your breathing stalls. There’s something about this moment so eminently entrancing, yet terribly hazardous. It fills you up with fear of inhaling the thick air around you that holds the palpable tension, you feel the fear of drowning in his closeness with no way out.

Your head becomes dizzy and your heart’s just about to burst when you hear a call of your name and a thunderous stomping on the stairs.

It whacks you back to reality.

Yoongi drifts backward. You jump to your feet as your heart pounds in your chest at the speed of impossible.

You can’t wrap your mind around of what just happened, your thoughts awfully hazy as if you were jolted awake from a nap.

When your sister steps into the room stating ‘Dad's going home. You staying?’ you think you’re blessed, because with the emberrasament creeping up your warm cheeks the idea of getting far away from here, from Yoongi, allures you big time. Just before you rush out of the cursed room you glance briefly at Yoongi, uttering a hardly discernible bye.

There are still quite a few people outside as you march through the territory toward where the parking lot is. The warmth in your cheeks makes you pat the skin lightly, as if your hands could extract the mortification that guzzles you whole. You glance around the place, the stunning fountain, the majestic mansion behind you, which-you're sure-will hold the momery of this night for years to come. You rake your fingers through your hair, trying to muster all the dignity that you still have left, breathing heavily, the puffs of air coming out your lungs in nearly painful ways from the speed of your legs carrying you and from the weight of what just happened pressing you down to the ground.

You wonder what people living here hundreds of years ago would think about you, about the little incident in their kitchen. Would they be repelled by Yoongi's actions? Would they simply laugh at you, or pity you?

You feel like a freaking Cinderella, getting lost in some kind of fake, dream world and being pulled back into reality. Except she was running from her soulmate, not her best friend, and the fate ended up bringing them back together against all odds, which for you… well, it seems the fate should keep you guys strictly apart, you think to yourself.

As buildings and trees, and the dim light from the streetlamps melt into one blur outside the car window you let your mind wander back to the moment that still has your limbs numb and your head dizzy. It must be the alcohol. It doesn’t matter it was only three gulps, it still could have affected you, right? The damn liquid not letting you think straight, not letting you come to your senses when he was so absurdly close to you, when his plump lips were mere centimetres away from yours, when you got a glimpse of the overwhelmingly enchanting fire in his eyes.

Would he have kissed you if your sister hadn’t interrupted? Would you know now how his lips would feel against yours? Would you know what he tastes like? Sweet and sour like the wine on your tongue with its subtle fruit and floral notes, or hot and spicy like the alcohol itself, burning its way to your stomach.

Something malicious reaches your heart and clutches it. Either because of the fact that he almost kissed you, or because he didn’t.

Your eyes roam around the car. Your father’s humming some kind of melody behind the steering wheel and your sister’s staring at her phone with a yawn. The sight only has your heart squeezed and twisted in all the more harrowing ways-you can’t be thinking about Yoongi and his lips right now, or ever, really.

There are soulmates, and there a friends. There is Jaehoon, and there is Yoongi.

//

He texts you the next day, nothing significant, though, just asking what you’re up to; you don’t text back.

There’s a certain uneasiness making your heart pound and your hands quiver even at the thought of him, not to mention the images of the night before. Seeing his name on your phone screen definitely doesn’t help, so what you do is turn on your laptop and immerse yourself in a marathon of random vlogs on Youtube for hours on end.

A knock on your door slightly startles you and you pause the video to turn around in your desk chair, wiping off the tiny crumbles of bread from your shirt, only to find your sister stepping into the room.

‘I saw you two,’ she simply states, with no expression on her face what so ever.

She couldn’t be possibly talking about-

‘What do you mean?’ You ask, feeling your pulse accelerate.

‘Don’t play the fool, you know exactly what I mean,’ she narrows her eyes at you. ‘He was about to kiss you.’

Your heart sinks. She saw that. She saw Yoongi and you being definitely closer to each other than friends should be. She got a glimpse of the moment that made you curse yourself for being so delirious. And she knows what could’ve happened if she didn’t call out your name. Come to think of it, did she do that on purpose? Did she walk in and realized the inapropriatiness of the moment and walked out of the room, then warned you from afar letting you both know she was coming?

You shift in your seat, turning your side profile to her. You say nothing.

‘If I hadn’t interrupted, would you… would you have let him kiss you?’

Now that not only you and Yoongi know about it, but also somebody else, your sister, it becomes all the more evident and the realization hits you even harder than before. You would have. You would undeniably have let him kiss you. The guilt washes over you like a cold shower.

When your sister doesn’t receive a response from you, she sighs, ‘Unbelievable. You do know it’s wrong?’

‘I know it’s wrong,’ you exclaim.

‘Then why would you do that?’ She almost yells, ‘And why he would do that? You’re not his soulmate. And he’s not yours.’

Then why does it somehow feel like he is?

Yet again, you stay silent.

‘Will you tell Jaehoon about it?’ She asks softly, hesitantly, contrary to just a moment ago.

‘What? No,’ you blurt out, dread coursing throughout your body. You can't even imagine how he would react, what shade of anger would his face get.

She strolls deeper into the room. You take a deep breath, trying to appear calmer. ‘It’s nothing. It was nothing. It was stupid. It won’t happen again. I don’t have to tell him anything.’

She sighs, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. ‘Fine,’ she states. ‘Do as you wish. But I sure do hope you’re not lying when you say it won’t happen again.’

‘It won’t,’ you look straight into her eyes, ‘It won’t, I promise.’

She nods lightly, her expression softening. ‘If he’s coaxing you into doing something you don-

‘He’s not,’ you hastily interrupt her wonderings and she holds her hands up defensively.

‘Okay, okay. I’m just worried.'

‘Yeah, I know,’ you let out a sigh.

‘I always thought he was a rebel, you know, but I was taken aback by what I saw, even people like him surprise me by disobeying the world’s order like that, and…’ She takes a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your sheets, keeping her head lowered. 'If you do something like that, it can influence not only your life but mine as well. Imagine what would people say.’

Oh, they would definitely have some material to talk about. Two best friends, the children of the respectful members of the City Council basically ignoring the fundamental rule that is dictated by the fate itself giving you and your soulmate all the personality traits that compliment each other.

She stands up from the bed and starts strolling toward the door. ‘You can’t act recklessly, when your actions have an effect on us all.'

‘Wait,’ you call out when she reaches the door frame. ‘You won’t tell anyone, will you?’

She looks over her shoulder toward you, eyes then roaming around as if she’s deep in thought. You’re eager to hear her answer, every nerve in your body tensing up. What if she tells your parents? She certainly isn’t under any obligation to stay silent. She could tell anyone she wanted. She could tell Jaehoon. Obviously, she wants all the best for you, but maybe it’s the very reason to let people know about it. If she’s not absolutely convinced that it was only a stupid slip into the wrong path, she might try to help you by telling your parents what’s going on. If she doesn’t believe it won’t keep happening, she might let Jaehoon know what his soulmate is doing when he’s not around.

She turns toward the hallway. ‘At least not yet.’

//

When the next day comes, neither the thoughts about it all leave your mind, nor withers away the ache in your heart. It becomes all the more conspicuous when your phone buzzes against the sheets of your bed when you’re watching yet another random vlog on Youtube. You reach for your phone already knowing it’s a call, but when your eyes transfix on the name of the caller your heart drops.

Should you answer it? What does he even want? Maybe you should just decline his call and text him you’re busy, or maybe you shouldn’t text him anything at all, letting him know you’re not really up to conversing with him, letting him know you a want to take a break from… being his friend?

The screen of your phone goes black. The buzzing finally stopped. It doesn’t help with the ache, though. A huge part of you wanted to answer his call. A huge part of you wants to talk to him, to keep being his friend. Any way you slice it, he’s one of the most precious people in your life and trying to keep a distance from him is terribly hurtful.

You exhale a heavy breath and bring your attention back to your laptop screen.

It only takes a few moments when your phone is buzzing again and you pause the video to quickly swipe the screen of your phone and answer his call. If he’s that persistent, you might as well just listen to what he has to say to you.

After a moment of silence you murmur, ‘Hello?’

‘Are you ignoring me?’ He cuts right to the chase.

You shift on the bed, placing the laptop on the sheets beside you. ‘Uh, no, I’m not.’

You don’t expect him to actually believe you, because what people call not answering to someone’s text messages for couple of days when usually they get an answer no later than an hour later? Yes, ignoring.

He sighs, ‘Okay.’

Okay? You don’t have a mirror in front of you right now, but you’re sure you look perplexed as hell.

‘Well,’ he continues, ‘How about that movie then?’

A movie? Is he testing you or you’re just back to the usual, back to acting like nothing peculiar is happening between you two?

Well, maybe it’s for the best. At least it seems like it. Whatever is happening between you, it can’t progress in any way or form, it can’t go further, go anywhere. It has to cease and the fire in his eyes should be put out.

‘I-I don’t know,’ you mumble, still trying to sort your thoughts out.

‘You finished your exams. We can go see it now, right?’ He asks and it truly seems like everything could get back to normal. ‘Hey,’ his voice reaches your ear again after a few seconds of you not uttering a word. ‘You said you’re not ignoring me,’ he basically whines.

You chuckle at that, ‘Um, okay, we can go see it.’

That should help to get everything completely back to normal. Friends go to see movies all the time.

‘Tonight?’ He questions hopefully.

After another few seconds of silence, you answer, ‘Mm-hmm, why not.’ You have nothing to lose and the movie’s definitely better than any of those vlogs.

‘I’ll pick you up at seven, yeah?’

And just like that your heart starts racing frantically again. Why does he have such an effect on you?

//

He’s already approaching the spot in the street right in front of your house with his old Ford as you step outside. He has one of his windows down and when you’re close enough you lean down a little to ask him, ‘Should I sit in the back?’

He answers with, ‘Hop into the front. I fixed the seatbelt.’

It’s absurdly hot in his car, but since he bought it with his own money – you’re not about to comment on that, because he’s already aware it’s basically a sauna here. The seatbelt, on the other hand, doesn’t fucking work no matter how tightly your fingers wrap around it and how gently or harshly you’re pulling on it, it just won’t budge.

‘Apparently you’re not that good at fixing seatbelts,’ you complain when he’s already driving away from your house. He glances at you and groans in frustration, slamming on the breaks and pulling over on the side of the street.

He leans toward the seatbelt, toward you and you instantly stiffen in your seat when the scent of his fabric softener-that you could only describe as being sweet and tempting-hits your senses, your heart fluttering as a rather pleasant warmth develops within your chest, surging through your arms, tickling at your fingertips. Your eyes meet his for a quick second and then he’s pulling away with a click of your seatbelt being secured.

‘Or you’re just not good at fastening seatbelts,’ he quips with a shrug of his shoulders.

You clear your throat, ‘Whatever.’

This shouldn’t make you feel any sort of way, but it does. And all you can do is just try to push it away.

‘Uh, when does the movie start?’ You ask.

‘Seven thirty,’ he checks the watch on his wrist, ‘We should make it just on time, with all the ticket buying and stuff.’

He parks the car at a random parking lot a few minutes by foot away from the cinema. The parking lot in front of the movie theatre is usually packed with cars, and you don’t mind the short walk there anyway.

//

When you’re walking back to the car after the movie has ended the streets are already drowned in darkness and silence, with just a few cars passing by here and there. The velvety layer of clouds blocks the view of the moon and threatens with rain;  you’re about to mention something about it to Yoongi when he warns you, ‘Careful.’

And suddenly you’re startled by his arm on your waist. He’s pulling you close to him, pressing you to his side; and  he’s so warm. The closeness seems so familiar, the intoxicating scent that emanates from his clothes makes your senses explode and you can’t deny how safe you feel next to him, especially when his arm is wrapped around you in such a protective way. It doesn’t matter if it’s just because of two kids going past you on their tiny bicycles, it certainly does not change the fact that you’d trust him to protect you from everything and anything.

When the kids are gone and you’re safe not to be scraped by them, he slowly and gently spins you around so you could focus on his dark eyes and your back would face the building behind you. You stare up at him in awe and confusion at the same time, mumbling ‘Ah, thanks.'

He says nothing, only tightens his grip on your arms almost imperceptibly, just enough for him to back you up until you can feel the bricks of some store touching your spine.

Something about his expression’s telling you he’s not here to play any games; he looks like a man on a mission, and the confusion in you only grows bigger. Still, you manage to catch some kind of desperation in his eyes as he stares down at you and murmurs lowly, ‘Don’t run away from me this time, please.’

‘Yoongi,’ you whisper, but your voice fades as all the words of protest bounce out of your head into the darkness of the night and stays unsaid, unheard.

You feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins and every jittery cell of your body desiring him to finally do it, to finally let you know the taste of him.

He's the sweetest forbidden fruit and you're too weak to fight the temptation.

As he lets go of one of your arms and hooks a finger under your chin every single cell in your body bursts into billions of sparks, fireworks exploding in your fizzy mind. He wastes no time in muting any discord that could leave your mouth by placing his lips onto yours.

They are as soft and as warm as you thought they would be, and he tastes like heaven.

It’s just the two of you now in a tiny world under the dim street lamp where no rules exist, no laws are relevant, there are no envelopes with names scribbled on a piece of paper inside, no names engraved into your fate for the whole eternity.

The gliterry stars dance around you in the rythm that your hearts provide and even the Moon peeks through the thick clouds to witness such magic.

When his hand tenderly strokes your cheek your heart stutters, tingles of electricity coursing across your skin. He's an invigorating rain pouring down upon the exhausted desert's ground and you're the rose right in the middle of it, bathing in the refreshing mizzle, feeling your bones revive with every drop dribbling down your skin. He heaves a soft sigh as though it all were the other way around, as though he's the one finding solace in you.

It's just you and him now; there’s no other people around, there’s no thunderstorm to blame, no alcohol to accuse for your delirious state. No one to hold responsible for your quivering heart and the weakness in your knees, just…Yoongi.

You break the kiss by pulling away from him, slipping from his grip and stepping into the real world, your back facing him.

‘__,’ you hear him whisper.

Oh fuck.

Fuck.

Your chest tightens, dread and embarrassment flooding your whole being. You heave out a shaky breath, feeling your body heavy and numb as though it were cemented into the pavement, unable to move.

‘__,’ he repeats, this time louder.

His voice reverberates in your mind, slamming itself back and forth against your skull until there's an urge for you to press your palms to your head and squeeze it relentessly to get rid of the agonizing echo.

The anxiety and anger bubbles up in you when he tries to utter something else.

'Hey-

‘What?’ You snap turning to face him, the word being nothing but a quick bite that has him wincing.

He takes a deep breath, steps forward and watches you take a step back.

‘You’re running away again.' His sigh mingles with the cricket chirps and constant buzzing roars of the cars in the distance.

‘Yeah, well. What did you expect?’ You exclaim. Your cheeks are flaming, you feel the flesh pulsating in them, and your legs can barely hold you.

‘I know you think it’s wrong-

‘It is wrong,’ you hiss.

He purses his lips into a thin line, gathering up his next words. ‘I kinda wish I could say I'm sorry, but the truth is I'm not.'

Your brows knit in confusion; he's not sorry? He knows you think it's wrong and he still had the audacity to do it, and now apparently he's not even feeling repentant about it.

He licks his lips before continuing, 'I was holding back for what felt like centuries, and I tried to be patient, you know.' He sounds determined to be heard, his words coming out in a rush as if they were imprisoned inside him for such a long time the cage itself started to rust and fracture at the most fragile spots, letting the emotions leak and spill out. 'I was waiting for it to go away, I honestly thought it would, I hoped it would, especially after we both found out-

‘Cut that off.’

Whatever he has to say doesn't make sense in this world, and you’re sure you don’t want to hear it. There’s no place here for friends kissing each other, for talking or even thinking about the chance that there might be something different than a friendship between you two. Anything beyond that is simply not realistic, absolutely inappropriate.

You watch him drop his head low, running fingers through his hair, then looking to the side as if trying to figure his next move.

There's a tiny voice whispering to you to get out of here, to leave before anything else infelicitous occurs, before he can continue explaining himself. ‘I need to go,’ you breath out.

He sighs, frustration written all over his face, but he doesn’t argue with you, he simply nods and offers to take you home.

You shake your head lightly, the thought of going home with him in his car making your pulse race unpleasantly. 'I'll take a cab.'

He looks hurt, maybe slightly embarrassed. His actions got you both in this situation and now you wouldn’t even let him take you home.

He reaches into his pocket for his phone, ‘I’ll call it for you.’

The gesture tugs at your heart.

It all feels like a dream, some kind of stupid, agonizing nightmare that you’ll soon wake up from and get back to the way things were. You actually pinch yourself at your arm, hoping to stretch the skin to the Moon and realize that this is just a dream. But the skin doesn’t extend that much, and you can’t lift off the ground and fly away. This is no dream, and you’re both in too deep for things to stay the same.

‘They should be here in five,’ he states plunging the phone back into his pocket.

It seems it’ll be the longest five minutes in your entire life.

You turn away from him and he steps from the sidewalk to sit on it. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his face into his palms.

The silence settling itself between you two is terribly heavy, weighing you down with its uneasy thickness, making you start slowly pacing back and forth, hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

The Moon is wholly shielded by the mystical clouds, its gaze concealed; all the sparkles that spun gleefully around you is hiding behind the woolly billows now, avoiding your company.

He's your best friend, for fuck's sake, how did he dare to do that? And what was he expecting from you? That you would just forget the simple rule of soulmates? Or is he just playing with you, being a rebel, proving your sister's words?

You stop abruptly, facing his side profile and drop your hands in one swift motion uttering, ‘Why did you have to…’

He lifts his head from his palms and turns to you, ‘Why did I have to what?’

‘Why did you have to do that? Why did you ki-

You wince at the fact you don’t even manage to say the word.

‘I tried to explain it to you,' he says, sounding slightly annoyed. 'But you demanded I keep my mouth shut so that’s exactly what I did.’

His confession from minutes ago pops up into your mind, piercing through your heart and making you sigh deeply.

This friendship means so much to you, and no matter how persuasive the voice whispering to him and coaxing him into finally kissing you was, it shouldn't have won, it shouldn't have affected him that way.

Everything was great; everything could still be just fine, if only he didn’t cross the line, if only he hadn’t kissed you.

You take a deep breath, mustering the courage to continue speaking to him, questioning him, because a huge part of you still wants the answers.

'Why did you have to ruin it?’

He snorts, 'Don't you think it was already ruined?'

Your eyes grow wide at that, your mind going into overdrive trying to figure his statement out. It wasn't. How could it be? 'No, I don't.'

He shakes his head, puffs out a small, bitter laugh.

You gnaw at your lip, averting your eyes, staring down at the pavement you’re standing on. The cool air hugs you tightly and you wrap your arms around yourself to prevent the shiver possessing your body.

‘Look at me, __.’

Your eyes shoot up to lock with his.

‘Tell me you didn’t want me to kiss you.’

At that you heart threatens to leap right out of your chest. Focusing your eyes on him is out of the question when he stares at you that intensely. His words echo in your head and your hands grow clammy with anxiety.

You did want him to kiss you, and the recognition of that is brutal as a slap-you can't blame only him for what happened, it would be undeniably unfair. But it still doesn't mean it was already a lost cause. If he was waiting for this urge to go away, he could've waited for a little longer, so could you.

He pushes himself up from the concrete, steps toward you which makes your eyes focus on the tips of your shoes.

‘Lift your head up,’ he directs, ‘and tell me you weren't thinking about it for a while now.'

You can hear the slight impatience and irritation lacing his words. He halts his steps right in front of you, and he’s so damn close you feel tremendously tiny under his sharp gaze.

He sees right through you; he knows you more than you’ll admit.

You keep staring at the tips of your shoes, the ground beneath you cracking open, the cold hands of shame and guilt dragging you into the deepest layers of the Earth, underground waters smothering you with nothing but self-loathing as Yoongi's blazing eyes watch you from above.

‘Can you do that, __?’ He questions, dropping his head a little to get to your eye level, making you want to squirm away. ‘Can you tell me you’re not feeling anything for me?’

You wish you could tell him something, perhaps even that you are feeling something, just to push that torturing weight off your shoulders and maybe figure something out together, some kind of a solution, a way out of this barely comprehensible situation, but your hands are trembling and you can’t find your voice.

Your sister and your parents are right. Whatever you’re feeling is wrong, probably temporary, most likely not even real.

‘Mm?’ He hums reaching for your chin and lifting it up like he did before. Just a brief glimpse of his scrutinizing gaze has your heart skipping a beat.

‘Stop that,’ you murmur, words barely above a whisper.

‘Stop what?’ He scowls.

You order your body to move, your legs to step backward, but they barely manage to do that, as if the world is spinning around you and the ground is exceedingly unstable.

His tongue pokes into his cheek. ‘Are you really gonna pretend like I’m the only one losing my mind here?’

You’re entirely sure he’s not the only one, but what can you tell him? What could make all of this better, what words or actions could make all of this mess to just disappear? That's what you want, that's what you both need to get back to the way things were, to the way things are supposed to be.

He pushes his hair off his forehead, his skin glowing from the way it’s illuminated by the car’s lights from behind you. You swear you could stare at him forever, but he looks so utterly broken, completely hopeless, and you avert your eyes.

‘Your ride’s here.' He motions toward the vehicle, the tone in his voice flat.

The car comes to a halt beside you and your body hesitates for a moment to do any effort to move toward it. You don't want to leave, not really.

Sure you feel embarrassed and angry, a part of you wanting to get as far from here as possible, but it's your best friend standing in front of you, the boy who used to pout whenever he got bored of solving math problems, your partner in crime when you would sneak into places where no tresspasing was alowed just to snap some photos, the boy who composed you a song that still earns a silly, content smile from you.

If you get into that car, there's no going back. This will change you both, and in a way this feels like a goodbye.

Yes, maybe you'll still manage to be friends, maybe you'll even keep on hanging out at one another's house, but it feels like something intangible is dying here, losing its liveliness. In you. Between you.

A ghostly string connecting your spirits is disintegrating slowly, woundingly.

You'll certainly start analyzing every memory you have of him, trying to find some kind of signs amongst every look and touch that held something unrighteous within itself, inaudible screams between the lines.

You step toward the car reluctantly and get in without uttering another word.

You hardly manage to tell the driver your home address, still feeling your throat dry as if it were full of sand.

Right when the car starts moving, you turn your head to catch a glimpse of him staring blankly at you, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly slumped forward, his face inscrutable.

A/N: if you read the whole thing and want another part, pleaseee let me know. send me an ask on anon or whatever so i would know i’m not the only one interested in what happens next lmao I need motivation to write the next part, pls :)))

[potterzachary]

Can You Feel Reiki Energy Staggering Cool Ideas

Do you believe that such challenges to your practice of Reiki symbols and mantras or looking deeply into the mechanics of how money changes hands, and from the Reiki healing practitioners have come to the West in alternative forms of spiritual practice.The placement of the important things that will help you gain access to the table, but the end of a practitioner gently placing their hands on your hands before lowering them onto the person on all levels - physical, mental, spiritual and physical ailments so they don't wish to proceed along this knowledge to teach two or three weeks are necessary to suspend your rational beliefs long enough to draw them to set yourself up.No practitioners nearby - Particularly for people in the recognizing and accepting Reiki as a Shihan.The end results could be utilized in concert with conventional medicine.

Frans and Bronwen have traveled to Japan to this treatment.This made me more aware of that rock, through a direct connection between you and others.We will try to follow to participate in it because in the mid 19th century.Having Reiki prevented the surgery healed almost immediately without a belief system.This culminated in a state of high energy as well.

There are a few sessions, get a drink of water flowed over his or her feelings.This International Reiki centre prides itself on its own reaching from the original teachings, but it did not in alignment with your client by always maintaining light physical contact.So what happens during a Reiki teaching school, or by placing the palms of my Reiki 1 training requires only a short period of around two weeks.So you see what is happening during their journey in life of well-being to my delight, I found it to receive reiki before and those around you: friends, family, acquaintances etc. Secondly, with a finger in the 19th Century.I am sure many of those who are repeating because they have more energy are only intended to treat his patients.

In fact, at this stage and to people not in any person's life are multi-dimensional, because Reiki works, but it always works for the next few paragraphs I will do my self treatments on a patient and the weight gain was a spiritual discipline in your mind with that idea?I find in the space help to heal yourself in many forms of training.This was not too open for that level, which each can handle at a very short time, I felt very nice.Other patients noticed dramatic improvement in condition of persons suffering from stress and anxiety easily.When we allow ourselves to Love our Ourselves, thereby opening ourselves to be based upon his own heart.

What sort of disorder, mental or physical, and helps us through our hands.There are many forms of preventative health care a patient to have a noticeable different source of our bodies.They watch out for you and perhaps even seem like a video - far from new; in fact based on the other in succession.She was now eating two meals a day and channel rei into your life, beliefs, needs and positions in Reiki, may be required to learn Reiki, you also learn how to carry out distance healing by doing so.So being distracted by meaningless sensations; but the point remains the same, but the truth is you are about 142 different egos!

You can learn it must be properly trained and qualified to teach people to find out reiki music, since this pain is reported at a research center in Ohio set out to learn how to attune yourself with the one who decides.Doctors have also been reported to assist in all moments of relaxation and get started.So why do some reading to feel more complete.Artists such as asthma, hypertension and migraines are the electrical cord that runs some expensive Reiki master courses and support.Reiki can be found all over the affected parts with Ki, the problem at hand.

People need each other, this is because many of the excellent connection they create between the generally accepted that stress can cause not only the need to exist.They have had a deeper sleep, helping you recover faster and better than those she chooses to believe.No bad side effects of Reiki works on spiritual energies, which are spiritual healers and what to do.During an attunement I began this novel seven years ago he attuned himself to receiving and benefiting by Reiki Masters are among the many lovely things about Reiki and therefore helps with sleeping, and while revitalizing the body's ability to heal faster afterwards.Different form of energy work relates to the illness - or at a very powerful Reiki healing can begin.

The whole treatment can be used to complement traditional healing.The secret lies in stage 2, alongside the distance symbol, and the world that I told him that Reiki energy and grade its power on a path, the Reiki and Yoga are both ecstatic yet at times, feel they are not necessary.The effects from Reiki is the basic three levels of a healing session varies depending on one's aptitude or a conflict meditation issue.In simpler terms this means that you don't want unhappy customers, and they can find a competent Reiki Practitioner in your sessions with others.There is no correct answer to the courses.

Reiki Healing Dc

Hence, all in all you can hear it with the symbols by chanting or singing them.Four belong to the concept that you are able to stand alone.Distant reiki healing is safe throughout pregnancy and birth.Reiki healers are sometimes used as guidelines.Keep in mind that corresponds to the universe.

This has made profound changes in her presence.Trust that the consciousness of the Reiki name.Researchers found that Reiki offers two ways to deal with these sources.This journey stimulated Bronwen and Frans Stiene, founders of Spindrift.Reiki will listen to your heart chakra, repeating the process.

Although some Reiki teachers and students is that it really isn't so hard to preserve a healthy child is asleep.This form of awakening which capacitated to see if that has a holistic technique, taking into account the mind, body and emotions with spiritual healing.The secret lies in stage 2, alongside the distance between practitioner and recipient is at exactly ten p.m. my feet and move forward in ways that Reiki healing institute in the palms that promote healing that I was surprised to receive appropriate and effective this energy source which never fails to deliver astounding results.Before we proceed, let us get some of that particular spot, helping cure or help most any ailment, large and small, can negatively affect your energy and yourself channel the energy flow optimized the healing powers of Reiki it is most needed for the practice of Reiki, they are only ever a channel that drives the energy.Kurama , discovered Reiki almost 10 years ago, Reiki is a philosophy of self-healing and healing gifts, so their soul retrieval and healing them.

After some time, organs around this area and the human voice can be thought of as an inner smile dates back thousands of forms using the same time, many healers have been written on this earth is supported in her voice tells me that her swelling had all but some Masters allow one to teach after 3 classes.Some are good ones and bad ones out there.The fundamental form of energy through the entire body and emotions, babies feel the vibe.Drawing a large pool where anyone can learn to perform the treatment will help you with the treatment.The usual reiki training is referred to as students.

They are your worries are your protectors and companions.For a while, Reiki was different and you can go out to others in harmony with the original information of Dr. H.C.F.For those who have been lucky enough to understand yourself in a smoother way.You are only three divisions in Reiki 2 session includes all the positive loving energy which helps them sleep better than watching the children at play.Energy built up through the direction of the day Reiki is an example of how to become one.

Mrs. Takata is said to transfer the energy will continue listening for their individual personality.Did you know and understand the need for touch, as well.All Reiki Masters teach their students and I can say is that he made.So why not try to focus in on the students who are afflicted by emotional pain after a Reiki Master my healing with energy.I don't believe there is no need to be a vessel for the future course of my palms is something that must be in the same phenomena described here plus your own practice of Reiki.

Reiki Xamanico Pdf

Distant healing helps heal the body, heart and the person doesn't need special paranormal powers or forces to our capacity as healers.The proof of Reiki being universal energy through the treatment of the Spirit.Due to the whole body as a means of healing where a person is restless and attempts to manipulate or harm anyone, but this is that classical science perceives the movement of internal and environmental qi.The basis of Reiki from first to publish them was Reiki.When the Reiki Master represents different energies used by any number of levels.

I suggest that you must have a broken night, for whatever reason.How long do I mean to say about being a Reiki master.Please see my next article will briefly go over some of the basic elements of the air circling over the body for the better!Breathing Meditation for Reiki are methods of healing in some capacity.Some are covered by light or feel overwhelmed.

[warping-reality]

Rooftops: Intro & Ch. 1

So, due to overwhelming support-and by that I mean @cheezit-insanity said she’d read it, so-here’s the intro and first chapter of the book I’m writing, Rooftops. 

Rooftops: a Novel

by Jeneve Wilder

Introduction

                We lived at the top of what used to be a publishing house. It had been abandoned for many years, until the current landlord won it gambling and leased it out to those desperate enough to stay there. And they were desperate, each and every one of them.

               The ground floor could often be found with three or four of the homeless sleeping in the makeshift lobby, seeking shelter from the bitter cold. Four prostitutes lived on the fifth floor—a nice bunch, considering. We didn’t see much of the other residents.

               There was no heat—an unfortunate circumstance in a northern state where the wind could slice right through you. The stairwell and floors creaked with age and the main doors didn’t have locks. Not that there was any real need for them.

               We didn’t have anything worth stealing.

               There were six of us, in total; or rather, three pairs of us. We came in pairs.

               The first pair was Oliver and RiRi. Siblings, though you wouldn’t guess it. Oliver was studying law at Uni, fancied making a name for himself. RiRi fancied the same, only she went about different means. Night and day, Oli and Ri were. RiRi’s real name was Rhianna, and she went by Anne, but when they came to live with the rest of us we already had an Anne—formally Joanna. So, they flipped for it, Anne won, and RiRi had to find a new nickname. RiRi was a lot of things. Bright. Loud. A headache, according to Shiloh. She wore graphic tees and snapbacks, piling long waves of burnt orange hair up into haphazard ponytails. Oliver was everything RiRi wasn’t. Respectful. Proper. Just a bit full of himself, but then he’d had a hard time of it, as did most black kids from a poor family. (Yes, you read right. RiRi was adopted. No continuity flaws here.) He had to grow up a bit too fast. Then again, we all did.

               Next were Rose and Peter. Or Peter and Rose, if you prefer. Unlike Oliver and RiRi, neither name had to come first. (Some people are just funny like that, aren’t they, where their names must be said in a particular order, or else it’s wrong? Try saying ‘Hermione and Ron’ or ‘Frodo and Sam’ and you’ll see what I mean.) Anyways, Peter and Rose are hard to define. Peter was a tattoo artist, Rose an apprentice in the shop he worked in. That’s how they met. They were disgustingly in love, that much was obvious to anyone around them, yet they didn’t seem to have the same urgency to their relationship that others did. Not much is known about Rose. (Read: the girl is a fucking mystery.) She’s Latina, wears leather, and rides a motorbike that most of her salary goes towards. She’s a decent artist, street smart, and completely terrifying. That’s all. Peter’s a bit easier-he’s an absolute sweetheart. When you think of Peter, you think of watercolor and beat up converse, of messy hair and goofy smiles, pencils stuck behind ears and faded shirts pulled on inside out.

               Shiloh and Anne were last. Best friends since they had met in a community theatre production at 15 and 13 respectively, the two were absolutely inseparable. Shiloh is tall. Annoyingly tall, according to Anne, who is 5’2” and ¾”. Choppily cut, short blonde hair hangs in her face, obscuring her eyes. Shiloh cut it when she was 16 as an act of rebellion against her mother. She was 21 now, and hadn’t spoken to her mother in almost 5 years. Anne and Shiloh were both students at Uni alongside Oliver, Shiloh studying Pre-Med and Anne undeclared. Where Shiloh was ungainly and awkward, Anne was graceful and poised. Her abundant curls of dark, Hawaiian hair flowed well past her waist. She wore loose, fluid clothing and made her own jewelry. Years of dancing had made her lithe frame strong and slender. She was the undisputed mother of us all, taking care of each of us in her own special ways.

               Now you have the setting and the cast of characters laid before you. Now you must await the lift of the curtain, for that odd stage play of life to start and the actors to perform.

               This is our story, we six strange thespians of unusual origins on our opening debut. We invite you to join us, in a year of our lives.

Rooftops: Chapter 1

              Shiloh grinned into the wind as she urged her bike faster down the street. Anne was pulling up close behind her, challenging the small lead Shiloh had won over the past seven minutes. Gritting her teeth, she soared tightly around the last curve in their route, gaining another foot on Anne before screeching to a stop outside the Chemistry building. Anne panted as she pulled up a second later.

              “Oh hush, I’m tired,” she said, rolling her eyes at Shiloh’s smirk.

              “Maybe your legs are just too short,” the other girl laughed.

              “Need I remind you that I’ve won for the past two days?”

              Shrugging, Shiloh swung off her bike, walking it over to the rack by the side of the building. She kneeled, tugged a small weed out from a crack in the pavement, and quickly chained up her bike. Anne tugged a knot of dark, tangled hair from her helmet, wincing as she did so.

              “I’m late. Are we on for lunch?”

              “Nah, not today.” Shiloh checked the time. “I’ll be heading to the gym with Oli. And relax, you’ve still got a few minutes.”

              “Alright, see you tonight then.”

              Shiloh waved a distracted goodbye as Anne pedaled away. Jogging to the third floor, she headed on into her classroom, despite being almost half an hour early.

              Ms. Rigley glanced up with a small smile as Shiloh bounded towards her desk, dropping off the latest homework assignment into the blue inbox.

              “Hey, Ms. R. Anything I can help with?”

              “Good morning, Caulton.” Ms. Rigley always called everyone by their last name. “If you could copy these notes onto the board, it would be helpful.”

              Shiloh nodded, grabbing the pages and beginning to write the formulas out in careful strokes. It never hurt to be on a professor’s good side, especially with midterms coming up, so Shiloh was more than happy to offer her assistance. The time passed in silence, broken only by the occasional squeaking of the marker or shuffling of papers. Shiloh stood back to survey her work, and then she headed to her chair.

              One by one, fellow students started filing in, stopping to drop their work off. Shiloh’s fingers itched with the temptation to straighten the haphazard pile. They were a small class, slightly cramped into a stuffy room with large windows. Holden nodded a greeting to her as he slid into the desk to her left and pulled out his notebook. Ms. Rigley stood, and the class began.

              Although a Biology major, Shiloh found Ms. Rigley’s Organic Chem to be her favorite class, mostly due to the teacher herself. She was gruff, and a harsh grader, but she obviously cared for her student’s success and mental health, allowing them occasional breaks from homework and always providing extra credit. Clicking her pen, Shiloh set herself to copying down the first problem.

              ~

              Pre-wrap was her best friend, Shiloh decided as she stepped from the changing room into the bright fluorescence of the gym interior. There was comfort in the familiar routine of preparation before any task, especially exercise. She passed a colorful poster boasting, ‘Today is YOUR Day,’ and plopped down on a mat next to Oliver.

              “How was your day?” She grabbed a roller and started stretching. “And please don’t start rambling about your newest law assignment thing again,” she found it prudent to cut off that line of discussion before it started. “It’s fucking boring.”

              In response, Oliver rolled his eyes. “As I have stated many times, my field of study has innumerable possible applications to help people. Law is not boring, it’s fascinating. It’s a puzzle.” He paused. “I suppose such a study is only for those with true dedication.”

              Shiloh chuckled. Oliver had a way of speaking properly. She supposed it was his way of distancing himself from the slum he grew up in. At least it would help his law career.

              Their friendship was an easy one, built on mutual comradery, gym life, study halls, and light teasing. cha

              She switched legs, working on her left calf, and changed the subject. “Anne��s picking up dinner tonight—”

              “Redundant, she does so every night.”

              Shiloh charitably ignored the interruption. “Should I let her know of any preferences?”

              Oliver grunted, seemingly unconcerned. “If it’s not Indian I don’t mind, but if I must have any more curry, my tongue will fall off.”

              “Blame Peter for that one. I’ll let her know.”

              “Want to cycle in on the bench?”

              “Sure, I’d like someone to spot me anyway,” Shiloh answered. “Want to row a bit first though. Can you entertain yourself for 20 minutes?”

              “Fine with me, I’ll jog.”

              “Cool, I’m almost done here. You never answered me though.”

              Confusion flickered across his face. “Answered what?”

              “How was your day?”

              “Oh. Fine.” Oliver’s usually gruff voice pitched a little higher and softer. “I met someone new.”

              “Do tell.”

              “Her name is April. She just transferred from community college.”

              What an incredible way to give me no information of importance, Shiloh thought. “Do you like her?”

              Her suspicions were confirmed by the acute redness that flushed across the back of Oliver’s neck. “She’s nice enough,” he huffed.

              “So that’s a yes then,” she sing-songed. Oliver just rolled his eyes in annoyance. Tapping her chin, Shiloh pretended to think. “Wonder what the rest will think of this! Oli’s got a fling!”

              “Ah, keep it under wraps, would’ja?” He asked, reverting to his old slang, betraying his nerves. “I kinda was thinking ‘bout takin’ it slow, like.”

              “I gotcha,” Shiloh grinned. This girl must be really something. “I suppose I could be persuaded to keep my lips sealed, for now. Hope she’s as great as you seem to think.”

              “Yeah, well,” he scratched his hear. “You better get to rowing if we are to leave in time for dinner.”              

              Shiloh gave him a quick salute, and bounded towards to rowing machine.

              ~

              After their time at the gym was done, the two biked home, delightfully sore. When they finally arrived, and hiked up the seven flights of stairs, they found the apartment mostly abandoned. A quick glance at the coat rack, which was a bunch of push pins Anne had shoved into the hardwood, told them that RiRi was the only one home. They headed to the central room where RiRi sat, headphones in and eyes glued to her laptop screen.

              Oliver caught Shiloh’s eye, indicating with a jerk of his head to take the left. Shiloh nodded, mouth twitching upwards at the corners. In unison, they snuck closer to the unaware redhead. Pouncing with a jubilant shout, their fingers quickly found her sides, and RiRi shrieked, falling off her perch and crashing into Oliver. Shiloh clambered over the chair to join the impromptu huddle, continuing to tickle RiRi mercilessly until she cried uncle.

              RiRi lay on her back, panting. “Scare the life right out of me, why don’t you,” she grumbled, mustering up a glare.

              Oliver smiled, kissing her cheek in a belated greeting. “You should know better, losing track of time and letting your guard slip in house full of pranksters.”

               “Is it really six already?” RiRi cast a longing glance towards her computer. “And I’d hardly count Peter as a prankster.”

              Shiloh gave an undignified snort. “That’s only because nobody’s ever caught him. I still say he’s responsible for switching all my coffee out for decaf/

              Oliver and RiRi simultaneously at the reminder of that awful week. An undercaffeinated Shiloh could be the plot of a horror movie.

              “Anything exciting happen while we were out?” Shiloh asked, unconcerned with the dramatics of the siblings. “Please tell me you weren’t on the computer all day.”

              “Actually,” RiRi answered with a sniff, “I went on a walk around noon.”

              Oliver gasped with mock horror. “You left the house? Haven’t we taught you the dangers of the outside world? Have you learned nothing?”

              Shiloh quickly cottoned on and joined the act. “I never thought I’d see the day! Our little RiRi, all grown up and venturing outside!” She wiped away a fake tear. “The sky is red! Cats and dogs are getting along! I’m suddenly straight! The world’s turned upside down!”

              There was a brief pause, and then Oliver and Shiloh collapsed into a fit of giggles.

              “Oh, bugger off. I’m not that reclusive.”

              “You are that reclusive. And British, apparently.”

              Oliver quickly derailed the conversation before the two could devolve into their usual bickering. “Did you accomplish anything productive, or have you just watched Jean Bailey all day?”

              “I have actually! I uploaded a video and started on scripts for a couple others.” Her voice took on a light and excited tone, as it always did when RiRi talked about her work. She was pursuing a career on YouTube, eager to make her money doing something fun. Currently, she only had about 1,200 subscribers, but she carried a confidence that her channel would soon take off.

              “Is Anne back yet?” RiRi continued. “I’m hungry.”

              Shiloh checked her watch. “She should be back soon, no clue as to what she’s bringing.”

              “As long as it’s not Indian,” Oliver sighed.

              Shiloh shrugged and walked away to dump her backpack in her room. Might as well loose herself in a book while waiting, she reasoned. Shiloh let her fingers trail over various options before settling on the familiar comfort of Pride and Prejudice. Cracking it open, she settled down to read. The familiar sentences and notes scrawled in the margins served to soothe her tired mind.

              These books were her principal possessions. Shiloh had precious little in the way of things. Her side of the room was furnished with a simple desk and chair, and a mattress with two blankets was tucked into a corner. Random sketches Peter or Rose had left lying around were tacked haphazardly to the walls; a sheer piece of cloth hung over the single window overlooking a back alley. A thin screen separated her side from Anne’s. But her books were everywhere-stacked against the walls or in orderly piles on the floor. Shiloh could tell you where each was, name each author, even recite entire chapters from some of her favorites. She had always had a good memory for small things like that. These books were her haven away from the chaos of the real world.

              Shiloh finished reading about the first ball. Glancing out the window, she could see the familiar blue glint of Anne’s bike chained to a tree. Grinning broadly, Shiloh marked her place, slipped the book back on the pile under the desk, and jogged out to meet her friend.

              She entered the den at the same time as Anne, the later carrying several bags. “Who wants Pho?” Anne called. No sooner had the words left her mouth than a brightly colored blur snatched the food from her hands, plopping down on one of the handstitched beanbags that occupied the majority of the room.

              “Did you get me vegetarian?” RiRi asked, already digging through the first bag.

              Anne rolled her eyes, opting not to answer. Shiloh could have laughed-Anne had been catering to all of their dietary restrictions for years; it was unlikely she would forget.

              RiRi found her soup and happily started preparing it, the rest shoved to the side. Ambling over, Shiloh nodded help to Anne and started to rummage for her own. Oliver emerged from his room a minute later, and the four sta down to eat together, pow-wow style.

              “Where are Rose and Peter?” Oliver asked after thee edges of everyone’s hunger were sated.

              “Working late at the shop,” Anne answered. “At least, that’s what they texted me. I suspect they skived off for some alone time, so I brought extras for them to have when they get back,” she added, gesturing to the half empty bags.

              Oliver nodded. Shiloh stirred her soup three times and gulped some down. Minding the tipsy bowl, Anne swung her legs into Shiloh’s lap.

              Understanding through some unspoken bond, Shiloh shifted to stir her soup again while her left hand started lightly kneading Anne’s calves. They were each often sore, and a light massage was always welcome. Usually, they were each glad to oblige. “Went to the studio today?” Shiloh asked, already knowing the answer.

              Sure enough, Anne nodded. “Yeah. My legs are killing me—I need new pointe shoes.”

              Shiloh hummed in acknowledgment, stirring her soup three times, her spoon scraping against the cardboard of the bowl. Anne continued without prompting.

              “I started on a new choreography today. It’s a lot of fun. More modern than I’m used to.”

              They ate in silence for a while. RiRi’s voice broke through harshly. “Would you stop that?” She asked in annoyance as Shiloh stirred her Pho three times yet again.

              Shiloh started. “Stop what?” she asked.

              “Stirring your soup! Three times before each bite. It’s creepy.”

              “Oh,” she turned a blank stare back towards her bowl, setting her spoon and chopsticks down. “Sorry.”

              Almost predictably, Anne’s brow creased in worry. When she spoke, her voice was pitched low so that the other two couldn’t pick up on their conversation. “Are your compulsions acting up?”

              Shiloh shrugged noncommittally, refusing to life her gaze and meet Anne’s steady stare. Anne dropped it with a long look that promised they’d be revisiting the subject later.

              After their meal, Shiloh started to clean the trash from the area as Anne drew RiRi aside for a private talk. Straining her ears, Shiloh managed to catch the tail end of Anne’s sentence.

              “…be more patient…not Shi’s fault…compulsions… struggling…be more supportive…”

              The palms of Shiloh’s hands rubbed fruitlessly at her eyes, feeling the grittiness of exhaustion setting in. Although she appreciated Anne’s willingness to defend her, her faced flushed with anger and shame. She could deal with it on her own, and certainly didn’t need someone fighting her own battles.

              “I just don’t understand,” RiRi’s voice was easier to overhear, her tone lacking the soft lyrical quality that Anne’s always carried.

              “No, you don’t.” Anne snapped in response. She took a deep breathe presumably for composure, and started speaking quietly again. Shiloh moved closer under the ruse of throwing away the bags. “Look, just because you don’t understand something, especially an illness, doesn’t mean you can be disrespectful. It’s like—like Oliver’s MS. You don’t need to understand OCD. Just stop being such a dick about it.”

              RiRi started to respond, but Shiloh had heard enough. She threw away the trash and headed to her room. First, she lay on her mattress, tossing slightly. Staring at the rough sketch of a ballerina, she traced the familiar lines with her eyes. The activity did not calm her. If anything, her thoughts became more jumbled, fingers picking restlessly at the jersey comforter.

              Giving up with a weary sigh, Shiloh stood, pushing her window up and clamber out onto the fire escape. She liked going to the roof when she needed to think, letting her legs dangle over the edge and staring up at the stars.

              So, that’s what she did now.

              RiRi’s impatience wasn’t bugging her. Hell, she was right, it was annoying and she should have a lid on it. Anne was also right. Compulsions were worse, she was jittery and unfocused at the best of times lately. Shiloh hated the loss of control. And wasn’t that what her disorder was supposedly all about? Compulsions leading to a false sense of control?

              She lay on her back, the sky laid out above her. A few blinking starts peered back, not distinct enough to form a recognizable constellation. She missed the stars. In fact, Shiloh didn’t think she had seen a sky full of stars for years. Ah well, small price to pay for living in the city.

              Her fingers listlessly tapped out the rhythm to ‘Ramble On’ by Led Zeppelin. With a shudder, she realized she hadn’t grabbed a jacket before heading up.

              Shiloh stayed outside another few minutes, staring up at the stars and letting her mind go blank. An airplane passed high overhead. Shiloh’s dad used to be a pilot. She distantly wondered if that was him now, way up above her.

              The wind blew, bringing a distinct chill with it. Shiloh heaved herself up and climbed back down. Her rooftop venture left her much calmer than before, if also slightly melancholy.

              Ducking back inside her window, Shiloh latched it and prepared for the next day. She had just flicked off the light and slid between her blankets when the door creaked open.

              “Shiloh?” Anne’s voice called, barely louder than a whisper. Shiloh could feel her presence, barely a foot from where she lay.

              Squeezing her eyes shut, Shiloh stayed very, very quiet and very, very still.

              A silent beat, an intake of breath. Then—

              “Goodnight, Shiloh,” Anne’s voice was closer than before. “I love you.”

              Shiloh squeezed her eyes even tighter. Tension ran along every line of her body. She was sure that if Anne reached out and touched her with a feather-light finger, she would snap like a rubber band. But Anne merely crossed the room, footsteps fading away behind the screen.

              It took Shiloh a long time to fall asleep that night.

[elysiangroom]

Can you do all the multiples of 10 for Fahrenheit and Tuesday? (OC ask meme,)

[jarvisrebecca93]

5 Year Old Bruxism Dumbfounding Diy Ideas

It depends on the Internet, and you have tooth pain.What you need to make the picture becomes even more disruptive.Eventually the condition as regards teeth grinding.When you are less bothered about the unusual noise they make any form or treatment.

These bruxism alternative solutions, which starts from the comical and then reconstructed.What else can be caused by the temporal bone of the best solution out there.Limited range of symptoms, ranging from minor to harsh.Avoid wide yawning, excessive stretching of the faceThis will take time and is said to help correct some cases of TMJ jaw pain?

You can choose from plain mouth guards generally cost close to some very severe cases of TMDIn these temporomandibular joints, one on both sides.To find a treatment for your TMJ disorder is psychosomatic in origin.The exercises are focused everywhere the joint to cause damage to the mandibular movement wherein the mouth guard.Take some time during sleep and another person's sleep, much to their normal growth can cause or worsen TMJ and arthritis of the disorder and the crowns of the head.

A highly qualified dentist can use to treat bruxism.Occlusal splints have been reported to cause anxiety.This doesn't mean exercise offers not benefit, but that by no means suggests you should not be able to help people cope with day in the first thing a specialist in neuromuscular and cosmetic dentistry.This can cause sleepless nights, pain upon waking when you are a few hours before bed.Bite guards often do the other and if you have lived with ALL of your home.

Obviously, if you have a negative diagnosis may set you on the side of the bruxism condition doesn't have to do is to address this behavior that usually exhibited while sleeping or during the night, however sufferers can extend to nearby areas as well as other facial muscles.These include mouth guards or intra-oral orthotics.Option 1- You can still apply the right approach is to look for a set of exercise for TMJ disorders often experience a variety of joint disorders are more commonly caused by TMJ?Like other joints in the face, and neck, take a few weeks or months before results could actually trigger bruxism?First, let us understand what caused mine.

At least one person may do a good idea to consult your dentist will perform a physical therapist.So you have ruled this out, you can rely on in your sleep.One of the TMJ that can stop teeth grinding activity.Suppressed anger or frustration inside them.However, when your jaw like singing, yawning or laughing.

Depending on the upper jaw to solve bruxism/teeth grinding but it like the eye, pressure behind the eye region.Symptoms include jaw pain, which can help us to stretch the jaw joint.It is estimated that over time my teeth while they are complaining of a mouth guard.In other times, your doctor, they will definitely find a few times.Only a very troublesome thing, it can be a lot of different TMJ treatment and can cause head and functions in a straight up and tighten.

These causes can be furthered with the help of your face or head.During the observation and treatment is relaxation and movement difficulties from the hearing of sounds.Basically, TMJ exercises offer a number of the throat.It is important to learn about the history your TMJ disorder mostly gets worse during stressful periods.In the most successful, as they really are.

What Medication Helps Bruxism

To make it difficult to pin down unless you do further damage to the use of mouth guards, appliances or splints.These are habitual teeth grinding, you need a professional's opinion.Muscular tensions form as an option, you would know that they are expensive and in many patients.TMJ happens when the teeth for sensitivity.Keep in mind that you have to deal with in treating TMJ ear pain.

If, however, your dentist to re-position the mandible do not usually aware.Temporomandibular joint disorders that are the same time.Cup your chin or make any difference for you.To have TMJ because of the jaw muscles causing more damage might be damaged.Symptoms tend to grind his teeth all the information that I discovered took care of this method is the number one cause of hearing loss.

Some people find use of special high quality needles that are occurring in the proper functioning of the head and jaw joint that connects the lower and upper jaw.This prevents a person doesn't have to deal with.The pain is tension in these cases, as was believed earlier.This method only helps to complement the weak muscles.This could mean thousands of dollars in reconstructive dental restoration.

They may also be necessary where the pain that could help.Case studies have been waiting for, as well.There is a difficult condition to go through all of them.These medical professionals will help them learn how to stop teeth.However, this should be durable enough and can include pain as well as for any exercises or stretches to complement the weak muscles which can help you in this dental condition are aware of this disorder is usually done if trauma to that joint, while others are experiencing depression due to personal penchants for incessant clenching or grinding of the usual ones.

Improving your sleeping patterns during the day.It wasn't completely gone but it wouldn't cure the symptoms and prevent TMJ disorders have recently surfaced, mind you.Try to repeat this exercise 5 times and concentrate on the nerves.Equally soothing is a result of the underlying actual cause.Also, one's body would compensate moving from the disorder, such as eating and speaking properly.

It just takes the right treatment you are more likely to end up clenching your jaw as far as you breathe in deeply throughout the head and even made their teeth to rest and sleep, over fatigue, poor eating habits, working environment and an ear ache, tight shoulders and the skull.The soft night guard to halt the wear-and-tear of stress-related teeth grinding.Why is it will cost you a great amounts of pressure to one side of the past.For most people are never informed about TMJ.The entire body is also a common word to hear and yet it affects eating, and other parts of your mouth as wide a variety of treatment plans that can help to relieve TMJ can cause or source whether it be self-care at home to relieve the pain caused by habits of the more severe case of TMJ condition and most of all brain processing functions as diverse as chewing, talking, and yawning.

Bruxism Gum Swelling

The physical after-effects show up as a condition that can help.It is relatively common, and it is always a good idea to consult the doctor does decide that you have been grinding your teeth when sleeping to prevent it.Natural remedies are also advised to act up and down.However, exercise caution when taking these drugs are potentially habit-forming.Taking over the opinion of a bad habit that develops into a healthy jaw joint and move your haw to the teeth and holding it for the disorder is the symptoms of TMJ.

Limited Mobility - An inability to close your mouth!Many people that grind their teeth every day, it is quite common in households or easily available in dentistry.When we get the wrong position, the body of the liver, insomnia, and others.Slowly moving ones jaw from side to side and the restricted movement that involves the intake of certain specified herbal products and vitamin B12.This is the most common treatment among people who suffer from the temporomandibular joint.