#please i need validation from the internet tell me i spent my time well please i literally sacrificed like 2 hours of sleep for this fuckin

[flynn-stinkyfox]

Spent over an hour on this btw

[brandileigh2003]

why do you think athors are unhappy and taking fics down?

This has been talked about a good bit lately.

Search fandom etiquette. Or fandom discourse. Others have worded it better than I can

But, what it comes down to is ... Each author is different. The way their fic has been received, the way that comments, anons, negativity, etc all effect them.

You mention being happy. I don't know that it's that.... Exactly. It seems like fandom is shifting. And that's natural in some ways. But. Things that have been rough... Personally and to some posts I've seen... Is that negativity and people being rude seems to be on the rise. In comment sections and inboxes.

And I know that some people say don't put your work on the Internet if you don't expect some criticism.

But. This is something we do for free. Bc we love it. We want to explore this world and the characters.

And fandom has always had golden rule of don't like don't read.

Except people are ignoring that. Or else they are just going over the line of the unspoken... If you don't like it, don't say anything about it. Not publicly where the author can see it.

I've seen the potluck example. We're all bringing something we put time and effort into. If you don't like green bean casserole, then please just pass over my dish. If you think that you like green bean casserole but you don't like a specific ingredient I used, just don't eat it. You wouldn't get it and then complain loudly to someone about it or tell me it's awful.

The second thing that's been talked about lately is positive interaction with authors. There's been a drop in commenting lately and I'm sure there are lots of reasons.

But it can still be discouraging. I know that we're not owed comments. I know. However. We spent time creating this and many of us do crave for someone to tell us so, or ask questions, to know it impacted someone, to know what reader liked. Or we find out it's being rec'd and talked about other places. Which is awesome, and there's nothing wrong with that. What is a bit discouraging is-- a lot of authors would probably never see people giving positive thoughts and love to the story, and that a very small percentage, if any tell it in a comment or message.

But these conversations are easily found on reblogs by many mutuals.

So I am but sure if you're really asking if I'm unhappy and why I personally pulled my fics (and if not, I apologize). but I will touch on the "why" a bit.

I will admit that I got too caught up in that part of it, the validation, I guess you could say.

It was making me sad and discouraged with numbers. Or that I would get negative feedback. Or if something didnt "do as well" as my average.

And that made me realize that right now, I'm just making myself unhappy. And (besides the people who gave the negative comments or asks) that is ultimately on me.

Because at the end of the day, I should write and share bc I love it. I have a story that I want told, a certain characteristizations or situation.

I shouldn't write for validation reasons even if it amazing to know my work was enjoyed.

And then I should see that any interactions are a positive.

So. I tried to separate from that. And having them hidden takes out the numbers game.

And I've reread a few of my stories, and enjoyed them just listening and trying to not go into I need to edit this mode. So that has helped.

I actually also posted something anon to test it out and will pull it if I do obsess. I also turned off anon comments and ppl can't find me here.

And I've had wonderful people send me kind messages and support lately and that does make me remember that there are such wonderful people in the fandom and they very much outnumber those who are loud and rude.

And I've been sitting with that. Hanging out in my little bubble, looking at kind things that people have been saying.

I've been trying to start reading more wip, the backbone of fandom, trying to comment as much as I can on any of the things I'm reading and let others know they're seen and appreciated.

So. I'm not unhappy. I'm blessed actually. I have good fandom friends. I have amazing fics being written for free that I can read and have an escape.

I think that these posts and ones I've written out reblogged is just trying to spread info a bit about what some of us as fanfic authors are looking for.

[what-i-call-men]

Together at last

Winter Anderson x female! Reader

Request: nope!

Warnings: a lot of cult talk, homophobia from Kai, minor drug use (marijuana), mentioned cheating (for the sake of the cult) and SMUT at the end with Winter.

Picture from @copy-of-a-cheeto

Proof reading by @divineruler

You had met Winter in college. You two had been roommates and quickly spent all your time together, soon starting to date. You had come from a pretty accepting place, whereas Winter was not in the same boat as you. When you two first started dating, you chose to keep it off social media and keep it to yourself because her brother and parents were pretty crazy. When she went back home for breaks you stayed at school or went to your own family. There were even a few years she came to your family's house for holidays.

After the two of you graduated, she opted to move back home with her family, which you ended up moving only a few minutes away in a small apartment. You loved being around Winter too much to just move away from her, so instead you put your English Literature degree to work here. You got to see her every couple days, usually walking around the town or finding some restaurant to sit in together. The two of you were quite a pair, her the dark but more feminine one where as you wore lighter colors but were more into masculine clothes, being taller than her and only accentuating that with big shoes or how you carried yourself in general.

When Winter was finally comfortable, she invited you to her family home for a sleepover about a month into you two staying there. She told you that she'd keep it under the ruse that you were her best friend and roommate from college but nothing more. You agreed, feeling it'd be best for Winter to be safe over however you felt. It had definitely been a bit harder for her to want to invite you especially after seeing how her brother reacted to the election. But when she finally said it'd be safe to have you over, you left your house quickly. Pulling up to the house, you had tried your best to dress as straight as possible, wearing a pair of leggings and a baggy pink shirt just to be on the safe side.

You barely made it to the door before it was opened by a man with long dark blue hair and a judgmental stare. He was about the same height as you if you were to stand up straight and if you had anything other than converse on for shoes you'd probably tower over him. Yet something told you not to try to intimidate him back, this was Winter's brother that you had to impress. "Hey, I'm here to see Winter. I'm y/n." You said and stuck your hand out to shake his. He didn't shake your back but instead a hand grabbed yours from behind him, one you instantly recognized as your girlfriend. "Kai let her in, this is my friend and I'd prefer you left her and I alone." Winter nudged him to the side with her hip as you walked past him into the house.

After spending some time in her room, smoking, listening to some music, and eventually making out after ordering some pizza delivery. You had remembered her locking the door behind you two because she had made a point of it, but when she moved on top of you, you opened your eyes to look at her and saw the door cracked open and a mop of blue hair through the doorway. Your eyes widened and Winter turned around to see her brother. "Winter, your pizza is here." He only said that before retreating back down the stairs and to what you assumed was the basement Winter has mentioned.

After getting some slices and eventually smoking away some more of Winter's stress about her brother, you offered to get you two some drinks which she agreed and you went downstairs by yourself. As you were filling the cups, you heard the door close to the basement. You glanced over and saw Kai standing against the counter. "So you’re the lesbo my sister is dating? You know she really isn't gay and she's just faking it." He said, very obviously trying to upset you and provoke you. You pursed your lips.

"First off I'm not a lesbian, I'm bisexual. Second off, faking it? You mean all the girls that you fuck... oh wait Winter told me you're an incel who gets off to girls feet on the internet." You said and straightened your back a bit, now leaning a bit over his slouching frame. Honestly he wasn't bad looking and the way he stared at you with hate but some underlying impression, wow you must really just like the Anderson's. Now you just had to see Winter's oldest brother to see if looks just ran in the family.

"Winter said she can't fucking stand you and that you really needs a proper boyfriend to show you that you like dick over whatever is in your pants." Kai said and crossed his arms, obviously getting a bit more upset that you weren't taking any of his insults to heart, but somehow he resulted in just kinda flirting... or maybe that was supposed to be threatening.

"Oh what's in my pants? You mean your sister? Now run along little man, don't pick fights you won't win." You said and rolled your eyes before walking up the stairs to Winter's room, telling her little to none of what happened downstairs. She obviously would be upset by it if she knew what you said and what her brother said. It was a normal night otherwise. You went home the next morning, not really expecting to see Winter so soon again when she texted you a few hours later and said Kai wanted you to come over.

This time you wore a normal outfit and didn't try to look "straight". When you go to the house, Winter silently opened the door and nodded to you to walk towards the basement. "He wants to talk to you. Don't fight with him please." She whispered as you got to the open door. You walked down the stairs and saw her brother sitting at a table with two chairs. "What am I gonna get interrogated?" You asked as you sat down in the chair across from him.

"No. I like your strength. I think you and I could help each other out." He said and crossed his arms. "Y/n I know you like my sister, and I know in this town there's not many accepting people... of relationships like yours." Kai said and leaned to the table and extended his pinky. You couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the fact that he was the one you were worried about, not others. "I want you to take my pinky." He said and you hesitated, but he quickly raised his voice and stated "do it." And you did.

He asked you all sorts of questions, and you chose to be honest because quite frankly you were just an honest person. He asked about what you fear. Hurting Winter. He asked what made you like his sister. Easy, everything but more specifically how hot she was in bed, also how fun it was to sneak around with each other in college. He asked what made you realize it wasn't just women you liked. Another easy one, your boyfriend right before Winter was really good in bed. After Kai unlocked his pinky from yours you furrowed your brows. "So why do you think I can 'help you'." You asked.

"I think you'd be able to benefit from helping me. You help me run for city council, write my speeches and make sure I sound well spoken. In return I promise you and Winter safety and a life together." He said and crossed his arms. As much as you wanted to laugh in his face at the idea of him on city council, you bit your tongue. "What is it that you can do to keep us safe? If she didn't move back into this house she would be living with me safely in somewhere like West Hollywood." You said and furrowed your brows at him.

"Well I heard that your poor innocent girlfriend has had some things to do with the few people around here that have been murdered... and I'd hate for my poor sister or her... accomplice to be tipped off to the police." This was the first you'd heard about this... but somehow with Kai being the way he was you didn't doubt what he said and the validity behind it. "So, we make a deal, you write my speeches and you and Winter stay here safely." You had no choice but to agree.

A few weeks into this situation, you had barely spent any time with Winter other than at Kai's meetings. Instead you were tasked with getting close to Ally and keeping her under wraps. You also had to convince her that separating from Ollie and Ivy was a good idea for her. Although you were fully aware of Winter doing the same to Ivy, something felt so wrong when Ally became a bit more than emotionally attached. After Ally had made a move on you, and you just accepted it, you snuck back to the Anderson house and immediately shook off the gross feeling as soon as you walked inside.

Kai sat at the dining room table and winter was probably with Ivy and Ollie somewhere. "How'd it go?" Kai asked as he ate off of the plate he had before him. "I feel disgusting. She is so not my type and I need to go wash her off." You muttered and slid your jacket off. "How about we go down stairs and you tell me about it?" Kai offered and you really had no choice but to agree, if you didn't you were scared he'd become upset at you.

This loyalty and willingness to sleep your way through your jobs, and with Kai if he so pleased, got you a lot of attention from him. Really all you wanted was to get back to Winter, but you had to do so with Kai's permission. When you had finally been given a night to be with Winter alone, you two found yourselves making out in her bedroom. Your hands slid up under her shirt as she kicked off her shoes from the day. You lifted her shirt up and began to work on her bra as she undid your jeans.

After you were both down to your underwear, you lifted her up into your arms and gently laid her on the bed, crawling on top of her. As you kissed your girlfriend deeply, you couldn't help but feel so excited to finally have her in your arms again. You slowly began your descent down her neck and chest. You paused to remove her bra and leave a few kisses along her breasts. You always loved how responsive Winter was, especially when you two had paper thin walls to the dorm beside you and you'd have them knocking on your door to shut up or angry notes to stop 'having boys over'.

When you finally made your way to her core, you slid off her panties as you knelt on the ground beside the bed, booking your arms around her thighs and upping her to the edge. Delving in, you could've sworn Winter almost passed out. You two were very open with each other about everything you'd done for the cult, including who you had been forced to sleep with. Ally, Kai, and a few of the henchmen weren't as good as Winter and lord knows Ivy couldn't satisfy Winter like you did. Which is why Winter's legs were shaking so quickly then soon clenching around your head as she came on your tongue.

Getting back on top of her, she whispered something against your shoulder. "What's up babe?" You asked softly and turned a bit so you could barely hear her ask for you to sit on her face. You gladly agreed, standing off the bed to pull off your own bra and underwear, she sat up and leaned forward to gently grab and lick your nipples, giving small punches and kisses as you removed your underwear. God she was so gentle yet confident, she was so perfect. Even more perfect when you finally were positioned above her face and she dove in.

Her tongue worked wonders on your clit as she slid off the rings from her fingers before sliding the newly bare fingers into your dripping core. You held yourself above her, gently letting your hands roam down her cunt, gently rubbing her clit while you rolled your hips against her tongue. Within a few moments you were on the edge of cumming and winter worked you over the edge. You felt so good to finally have a welcomed orgasm. "I wanna fuck you." She whispered up at you as you came down from your high and you smiled at her a bit. She slid out from under you and ran to her closet as you laid back on her bed.

After a few moments of struggling she pulled the straps of the strapon onto herself. No one would guess you were a bottom to her if they saw you on the street together, but somehow if just worked for you two. She climbed back on the bed as she slid the dildo into place on her belt, turning on the bullet that sat on the inside for herself. Leaning down, winter sucked one of your nipples gently into her mouth as she ran her fingers gently against your clit, rubbing it as she slid the dick into you slowly. You groaned out softly as she made her way up to your lips, kissing you deeply as she began thrusting into you.

With her thrusts and rubbing your clit, and her the vibrations on herself, both of you were quickly close to the edge. Her moans were getting higher and more whiny, you reaching up and gently playing with her breasts. As she leaned over you to speed up her thrusts, you took a nipple into your own mouth, licking and sucking gently, her own thrusts becoming sloppy. "Fuck... babe... fuck I'm close baby." She mined out and you nodded up at her, letting her know you were too. After just a few more thrusts and rubbing a bit harder against your clit, you two were both topping over the edge, letting out a long moan of your own as she whimpered against your neck.

After a couple seconds of breathing, she got up to remove everything from herself. You pulled her back down to the bed before you two could clean up. "I love you." You whispered to her quietly as you pulled her naked body against yours. She whispered her own back to you before taking a deep breath. "I wanna marry you." She whispered softly as your hand traveled up to cup her cheek. You two looked at each other in silence for a moment. "I want you to myself. I wanna run away and marry you and hide away from this stupid cult life. Please marry me." Winter whispered to you and you smiled at her softly. "If we can find a way out, I'd love to marry you." You said back and pulled her into a soft kiss, before hearing the door slam downstairs, basically saying your alone time was up and Kai was home.

[little-silly-bear]

Hello Cookie!! Can you explain autism symptoms for me?

Hi dear! Well it’s a very big argument and I want to talk about my experience that is different from others on the spectrum since every person is unique. I was diagnosed the last year and it was a shock since I’m 23 and I lived my whole life thinking “what is wrong with me? Why I just can’t get friends or having a conversation like the others?” Tumblr literally saved me, I saw a lot of post of regressors that are on the autism spectrum and I was like “Wait..that isn’t normal? I mean not everyone do that?”. So I did a loooot and I mean a looooot of researches on this argument, I tried to study more that I could and I found myself at home.

I can try to summarise the big symptoms for you (I’m not an expert I’m just a kiddo pls don’t be mean if I say or spell something wrong it’s also 5 am here) :

Sensory issues-it means that you have one or more senses very high, you’re sensitive to touch, smells, tastes, sounds or sights and they are more but I don’t remember those ahah! You can have all of them or a mix of them, usually they are more that one. You can’t stand having targets on your shirt, some kind of fabrics drives you crazy and you just really need that blanket to live a regular life and can’t understand why? Yeah me too. Most of the time they are bad, like some sounds literally makes me crazy, in high school I spent a terrible time because no one believed that I felt pain for certain sounds or lights. But I try my best to concentrate on what makes me happy like the fluffy blankets, not having socks, sleeping with a weight blanket, walking with my cancelling headphones and the taste of a cheesy pizza. You just need to listen to your brain if that light is too much please, when possible turning off, your health comes first! I tried to suppress this feelings my whole life to make other people “comfortable” aroun me but not anymore! If a room is too crowded and I literally hear every person talking, I usually feel very sick and need to recharge in another room. When I was a kid and my parents used to take me to the mall I literally fainted, they thought it was something that makes me unique but now we now it was my body reacting to overstimulation.

Having trouble socialising and in building relationships. This was the first criteria that convinced my therapist that I needed a test. As I told before I never get other people, they seemed like a different species to me and if I wanted a friend I needed to work really hard on acting and behaving like them. Obviously I failed every single time because I couldn’t resist more than few weeks? Also this was around elementary/middle school when in my head I needed friends like a task to do 😂 when I realised that I was way more happier by myself I didn’t try it again! But for me, like a lot of us is difficult because everything is built in a way that isn’t ours, every single conversation is based on a neurotypical way. The small talks, the chit chat, I never get this things, why we need to talk about the weather when we can talk about how cool is the Pokémon Go game? Do you know what I mean? I think you does. Also big tip try to talk with a person on the autism spectrum and see if you’re more comfortable and tuned with them, I had three friends irl ,we’re all on the spectrum and let me tell you that is so much easier talk and keeping a relationship when you both understand each other.

Special interests!! Omg! Pls don’t get me started I will never end this post 😂 they literally saved my life, I didn’t know they were special interest until my therapist told me but let me tell you that I have a lot of them!!! Special interests are one or more subjects that you have a deep, almost professional, passion about. They can be simple, scholastic or very complex topic. And you don’t need to be an encyclopaedia to prove that is your special interest, the same fact that you have something that you reaaaaaally love talking about and can’t stop learning more and more about it makes it valid. Let me tell you that at the age 10 I learned Japanese because I fell in love with Japan culture, I didn’t have internet I studied from books and old movies/animes. I never thought that was a special interest because for me it was just my way of loving something.

Stimming. This is something that our dear cousins with ADHD have in common with us. Most of the times someone in the autism spectrum have also adhd and viceversa but it isn’t always the case. Stimming is a natural process to express our emotions, it comes naturally and it’s like an electric feelings (for me) it’s something that you can’t stop and if you tried to suppress it will grow and make you feel worst (not like in a tic or ocd way more in a mental state). Everyone stim, people stimming to music is very acceptable and well viewed by the society but people like us need to stim to express our emotional state. I personally suppressed my stims for so many years because of bad teachers that im still trying to relearn most of them. It’s a common thing to having your diagnosis or starting to accept your autistic traits and then see your stims grow like never before! Most are gestures like flappy hands or jumping when you’re happy or if you ate a good food but they could be everything like chewing, singing, humming, bouncing legs, hair wrapping, scratching, eating nails, watching aesthetic photos, listening a song on repeat or clapping hands.

They’re more and more things to add in this list but I already did a long post and I got so excited for this question that I forgot to take my meds 😂 I tried to summarise with the points that my therapist told me were the most relevant for my diagnosis. Let me know if you need more advices, my dms are always open for you little beans that need help or tips from your big sibling! Have a good day and happy stimming to everyone 💕

[arigatouiris]

an inconvenient crush // kozume kenma x reader (2/2)

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for the support! I really appreciate people coming in and telling me you liked my story! Makes me feel so loved and valid, I can’t even begin to tell you how special it makes me feel. Here’s the final part! Do let me know what you think! Thank you so much :”)

Word count: 4k+

Pairing: YouTuber! Kenma Kozume x Streamer! Reader

Summary: YouTuber Kozume Kenma has had the biggest crush on Twitch Streamer, (s/n) (y/n), who in actuality simps heavily after Kenma’s secret YouTube persona, puddinghead0.

What happens when their paths cross?

Kuroo is honestly tired of Kenma’s second-guessing, and (y/n) is a bit of a crackhead.

Warnings: unrequited love, one-sided crush, slight angst, pining, crackhead reader, internet bullying, slang, gaming references, haikyuu manga spoilers, fluff

C h a p t e r T w o: kozume in love

Kenma chuckled when he heard you scream over the controller. The both of you were currently fighting a boss named Martyr Logarius, and while you had beaten the game once, playing it in Newgame+ was extra hard. Kenma was certainly helping, but you had made a silly mistake and died for the fourth time in a row.

    "You're dodging too early," Kenma said, still chuckling, "But it is entertaining to see you dodge in such panic."

    "Shut up," You groaned over the microphone, earning more chuckles from him, "I'm trying, okay?"

    "You beat this game, you said?"

    "Ahhh!"

Kenma laughed some more, now covering his face with his hand. He could hear you laugh out of frustration as well, but while this entire orchestration felt funny to both of you, Kenma's heart bubbled dangerously. He loved the sound of your voice, and he absolutely adored the way you groaned and cursed at the bosses each time you died or each time you defeated them. You were good, and even as the game tested you, you trod on. He could see you loved gaming in its entirety, and slowly, he was learning more about you.

    "I need a beer." You sighed.

    "This game does that to you," Kenma leaned back against his bean bag, "I mean... Not to burst your bubble, but you do suck."

    "Oye," You warned playfully, "I'm a streamer."

    "Anyone can stream, (y/n)."

There was silence on the other end after that, but Kenma didn't think it was anything odd. The co-oping between you two was going on for a few days now, and it would last up to 5-7 hours at most. It was strange that despite college, you two managed to find time to sit and play, but after a point, it had become more than just the game. You began to crave his voice, crave the way he'd be there, whenever you were about to run low on health, he'd come over and give you time to heal.

Co-oping with Kenma was fun because it felt, oddly, as if he really cared.

    "(y/n)?"

    "I always thought you sounded familiar," Kenma blinked, "But I think hearing you say more words sort of... gave it away."

    "Gave what away?" Kenma's heart was pounding now.

    "Kozume-kun," He didn't want to hear the rest, "Are you puddinghead0?"

It took him several seconds to process what you said. He could practically feel his heart beat against his ears, and he could sense you getting impatient at him as well.

    "Kozume—"

    "How did you know?"

You took a few moments to answer.

    "I... I've been a fan for too long not to recognize your voice, really. I just... I guess I had to hear you through the microphone to instantly pick it up? I don't know I... Why didn't you tell me?"

    "I didn't want you to know."

    "Oh," His heart broke at how low you sounded. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't ask you because I knew you were him or anything! I asked you as Kozume—"

    "Right."

    "No, listen," You were panicking now, "I assure you, I didn't know until recently. I didn't even think... I never—"

    "What did you picture him as, (y/n)?"

    "What do you—"

    "I'm sure you pictured him as someone different, right? It must disappoint you that someone you admire is in fact, a regular college student—"

    "Don't say that! I really enjoy playing with you, and... I never even pictured how you'd look in the first place!"

    "Sure—"

    "Can we meet? Please, let me just—"

    "Not happening. It was nice playing with you, (y/n). I hope you get the platinum—"

    "Please, don't do this."

When Kenma hesitated, he knew that it was no longer an inconvenient crush. His fingers trembled and he couldn't look away from the television screen. His chest hurt and he was certain that his shirt was drenched.

    "Please, let's—"

    "Where do you want to... meet?"

    "Oh, thank goodness," Your genuine relief made him want to laugh, "I was so certain you'd hang up. Oh, thank god. Uh, I don't know. You live near campus?"

He narrowed his eyes, "What campus?"

    "Tokyo University?"

    "You go here too?"

    "Literature student! You go here? You mean to say the puddinghead0 goes to—"

    "Please, just never call me that, okay?"

    "Where do you want to meet?"

    "I... Just come to campus, we'll figure it out."

What normally took Kenma 12 minutes took him 17 now. He spent some time pacing back and forth on whether to go or not, before understanding that he couldn't back out after assuring you that he'd be there. He wondered if you would come as a fan or as his friend (were you his friend?), but the foremost thing that Kenma worried about was what your interaction with him would be about. Why did you want to meet him? What explanation did you want to give?

Maybe she wants to thank me, he thought as he walked forward, finally bucking up and realizing that he might actually need to meet you alone as himself.

He noticed that you were waiting outside the gates of the campus, airpods plugged in, head rocking lightly to some music that you were listening to. From a distance, you caught sight of him and waved almost hesitantly, shooting his heart to the skies. Your hair was tied in a messy bun and you were wearing anime merch, a Bakugou shirt with regular jeans. No matter what you wore, Kenma thought you were ridiculously pretty. Kenma had always thought you were pretty, from the very first video that you uploaded. He caught your stream in Kuroo's laptop when he had come over, and apparently it was your first time. You were hesitant and shy, but it gradually died down the more you played. Kenma found himself laughing so much that it alerted Kuroo, who had understood right away that you held a special place in Kenma's mind since no one could make Kenma laugh quite like you could.

When he was a few feet away from you, you looked at him awkwardly before he noticed you were red-faced. Is she... blushing?

    "U-Uh, yeah so uh," She was so nervous that it was making him feel weird, "I don't want to treat you differently but I just realized that I was gushing to you about puddinghead not knowing that you are, in fact, puddinghead and god, I feel like an idiot."

Kenma had to laugh at that before shaking his head, "It's fine, I don't get too many compliments anyway."

    "You had me simping all over you and you knock that down as compliments? Please teach me the art of modesty, senpai."

Kenma laughed some more before letting out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. You were taking breaths now yourself; you were standing beside someone who had literally inspired you to start streaming gameplay, and you had no idea that you were playing alongside him all this while until he had practically confirmed it not too long ago. Of course, a part of you felt weird that he never told you himself, but perhaps he wanted to keep it a secret. Also...

He had been watching your streams. Kenma had admitted that as himself the first time you had met. You could practically die.

    "There's this cafe down this road," You said, suddenly feeling a lot bolder, "We won't have to stand around awkwardly then."

    "Alright."

The walk wasn't quiet, you were desperately trying to think of something to talk about, and you were mumbling a few things here and there about Bloodborne, and he commented back; but neither of you found your heart in the conversation and kept going because you didn't know how to handle the silence. While you admired Kenma, Kenma was also aware that you had no idea the feelings he had for you.

It made him feel a bit inadequate, and he wasn't sure how to take it.

When you reached the cafe, Kenma and yourself took the seats outside. You took in his appearance properly for the first time that evening; his hair tied in a messy, loose ponytail and wearing baggy clothing with black jeans and sneakers. Kenma was gorgeous, you wouldn't deny that, especially now that your heart was bubbling with excitement over how he was your YouTube idol. Strangely, his question rang in your mind:

What did you picture him as, (y/n)?

Your eyes softened at Kenma as he checked his phone for a minute; unable to look away. You stared at him the way folks stare at a rainbow, taking in all that unexpected beauty, not wanting to look away in case it might disappear. You felt yourself blushing when he looked up to meet your gaze, almost feeling time stop. But, you were too much of an overthinker to let that happen.

I'm sure you pictured him as someone different, right? It must disappoint you that someone you admire is in fact, a regular college student—

    "Kozume-kun," What am I doing? "I can't picture anyone but you."

He was now staring at you like you were an idiot mumbling rubbish. He gulped, you could see the rise and fall of his adam's apple, but he wasn't saying a word.

    "A few months ago, when I started the channel on Twitch, I could do it only because of you. You inspired me to upload my own gameplay because I now had a platform to be proud of it. But as Kozumu-kun, you gave me the courage to not only be proud of my gameplay but to see what's actually important," You smiled as you said, "Fun."

    "You're giving me way too much credit."

You shook your head, "We don't always realize how little exchanges that we have with people cause ripple effects. Playing with you these past few days reminded me of what streaming for views made me forget. Views don't matter, the fun does. I let those comments get to me because the views mattered to me, and they still do. But, that's not everything. I learned that from you."

Kenma didn't know what to say.

    "So when you figured out that I was... the YouTuber—"

    "Puddinghead—"

    "—Yeah, that. Didn't you think I lied to you?"

You shook your head, "You never had a face reveal, which meant that you wanted to keep it a secret. So why would I feel like you lied? You had every reason to—"

    "Stop being so fucking adorable, it's actually pissing me off." Kenma snapped without realizing.

Both of your eyes widened—Kenma's and yours—at the words that exited his mouth. Your face was flaming at what he said, and Kenma probably felt like a suicidal ostrich. He wanted to bury his head under the ground and never rise, for that would keep him away from the embarrassment that was due; he could hear Kuroo's laughter in the distance, which made it all the worse.

    "I'm... I'm not trying to be cute, you know?" You said, tilting your head a little, playing with a strand of your hair.

Kenma frowned at you, wondering now if you were doing it on purpose.

    "What are you... doing?"

    "There's a word for it!" You pointed an index finger in the air, "Hanker sore."

Kenma scoffed, "What's that?"

    "It's finding someone so attractive that it pisses you off."

Kenma blushed, "Y-You're not all that attractive, you just... come across as cute sometimes."

Your eyes widened, "I'm a catch!"

He bit his lower lip, "Yeah, sure."

    "Hey! I am a total catch, you could like totally fall for me!"

Kenma's heart skipped a beat, "Yeah, sure."

While you were sitting across him having a struggle over how he easily pushed away your claims, Kenma stared at you like you were all he could see, and as if you were a sight that he would forget if he didn't drink in your details at this very second. A moment later, you gasped before leaning forward.

    "I think we should get something."

    "Let's actually... go get your platinum."

Your eyes widened, "You... don't mind?"

He shook his head now that he was absolutely certain, "No, let's go back."

You were beaming and thanking him, acting as if he suddenly wasn't the YouTuber you had been simping after, treating him like a separate individual that he was, behaving as you would with anyone else; Kenma's worries dissipated in thin air, he was now confident that he had fallen in love with you, mind, body, and soul—your voice had ensnared and captured him, and now, your revelation had done the deed of claiming his heart.

    "Oh, and," Kenma said, "No one will know."

You nodded before throwing him a mock salute, "Of course!"

*

You were legitimately freaking out. 

Kenma had followed you as puddinghead on your professional Twitter and you had been staring at the screen for close to an hour now. You weren't sure if the reason for your heart to be beating the way it was was because Kenma was puddinghead or because you had finally learned what puddinghead looked like, but whatever it was, the feeling was intense.

Are these feelings romantic though? You wouldn't lie, before you knew puddinghead's face, you had pictured meeting him and dating him—the regular daydreaming that a person would do for the person they were simping after. And while those thoughts were innocent, now puddinghead had a name. Puddinghead was Kozume Kenma, an attractive college student, CEO of Bouncing Ball Corp, and YouTuber. Your mind was taking you to places, and juxtaposing your previous fantasies now with Kenma's face. No, no, no, you scolded yourself before covering your face with your hand. Yes, discovering his identity is huge, but don't forget, he thinks of you as a friend!

You were about to join his party on the PSN and co-op Bloodborne again, but all you could think about were how long Kenma's fingers were when they were placed on the table before you that day when you met him in the cafe.

You were practically out of it.

    "Hey, Kozume-kun!"

    "You know you can call me Kenma, right? I call you (y/n)."

    "O-Oh," Your face reddened uncharacteristically. "R-Really?"

You heard Kenma chuckle and your heart was ready to combust, "Yeah, what's there to think about?"

Oh dear lord, "Okay. Uh... So..."

     "So."

     "Uh."

    "(y/n)?"

Fuck, "K-Kenma-kun."

Kenma had his hand covering his jaw at how cute you sounded, but you were practically jelly yourself. It wasn't easy learning the identity of your internet crush and having to play with them as friends. It wasn't easy to accept these facts and to admit that maybe, just maybe, the person that they are in real life was equally attractive.

    "We have to beat the Shadows of Yharnam today."

Did his voice always sound like velvet?

    "Hm, I've heard they were relatively easy?"

    "No," He said chuckling, "To you, they're definitely going to be a challenge."

When he chuckles, I feel like I'll die.

    "Didn't you play against them without co-op?"

    "Oh, yeah," You could practically picture him rubbing the back of his neck, "I did co-op for Gherman in the end, though."

Fuck, he's so cute!

    "What?" Kenma asked, sounding confused.

    "What?"

    "You said 'he's so cute', you mean Gherman?" You gasped, "(y/n), he's... he's an old man?"

    "Y-Yeah! Haha, I mean... Yeah. It's... I was..."

Kenma laughed before asking you to continue before you slapped yourself for making such a big fool out of yourself. Snap out of it, you scolded yourself once more. You can't like Kenma-kun just because you know he's puddinghead.

But, did you?

As days passed, you exchanged numbers with Kenma. Texting him was relatively easy since he barely tried to keep the conversation alive and you just had so much to say. Sometimes, Kenma believed he might be boring, but you kept texting him as if his personality wasn't really that much of a bother. He wasn't much of a texter, and you had caught on, a fact that didn't actually bother you. Kenma, however, would never leave you on read, would try to reply within the hour even though he doesn't text as often.

Your mind, however, revolved around the heart he had once sent you as puddinghead.

You were re-reading the tweets almost every night, and juxtaposing the image of an empty face with Kenma's. For some reason, puddinghead's image was slowly erasing itself from your mind; you became less fascinated with the YouTube persona, but instead, looked forward to hearing from his real-life identity, trying to know more about his day, about his other interests, and having learned that he was from Nekoma blew your mind since he was from a rival school.

Kenma and you often met at the cafe again, just to grab a few snacks and talk about games. It would be you most of the time who would be initiating conversation, and Kenma would listen and retort when he felt the need to. However, not once did you feel like he wasn't listening; not once did Kenma make you think you weren't keeping him engaged. His eyes were on you, his intense gaze enough to burn you to the ground. It practically had you shivering.

Your mind, however, still continued to revolve around the heart he had once sent you as puddinghead.

    "I might need to go to a volleyball game soon—"

    "Why did you send me a heart?"

Kenma froze before meeting your gaze. "What?"

You almost wanted to slap yourself but you had said it. You couldn't hold it back, you couldn't keep mulling over your thoughts and therefore, you decided to tell the source of your problems what your problems were.

    "Kenma-kun, I... I had a big crush on puddinghead," Kenma's gaze on you was unwavering, "Now that I know you're puddinghead, and... and you were the one who sent me a heart, I... I've always thought you were cute and all—"

    "(y/n)—"

    "—and it's a bit unfair if I like you only because you're puddinghead, but I gave it a lot of thought—"

    "—(y/n), listen—"

    "—and I don't want you thinking that my feelings are just because you're a famous YouTuber and I just want to like... I don't know... I enjoy every second with you and slowly I just—"

Kenma's finger tapped your forehead, freezing you in position. His cat-like eyes were boring into your soul, and there he was, face inches away from yours, expressionlessly staring into you.

    "I've been in love with you for the longest time," Kenma's voice was gold, "No pressure, though."

    "No..." What the fuck? "N-No pressure?!"

Kenma laughed at your outburst, "Yeah, I mean... I took sometime accepting it, to even think that I liked you over the internet didn't make sense to me. And then we bumped into each other and we started gaming together and I guess I understood that your internet persona was just a part of you I'd liked, and now I like you more."

Oh.

Was it really that simple?

    "So... If I liked you as puddinghead—"

    "Please don't call me that."

    "—and if I like you as Kenma-kun, then..."

Kenma sighed before offering you a sweet smile, "It's probably the same thing, (y/n). Stop worrying."

    "Can I kiss you?" You blurted out, without thought.

God, this woman, Kenma thought, before covering his jaw with his hand.

*

In less than a week, you'd learned the route to Kenma's apartment by heart. You went over to game at his place, and slowly began streaming as (y/n) again on Twitch. You didn't want to stream with Kenma yet, because you guys had just started dating a month ago. For liking you longer than you liked him, Kenma was relatively cool about you hanging over at his, and about initiating any sort of touch—because your thoughts were practically spilling out of you and as cute as he once thought they were, he didn't want you to say 'pinch me' every time he kissed you.

Kenma's hands were buried into your hair as he kissed you fervently, softly at first before pulling back to see how flushed your face was. He'd never really imagined you being here, out of the screen he saw you from, in his arms, kissing him back.

He chuckled at the thought.

    "What's so funny?" You were legitimately a crackhead, but he adored you.

    "I thought having a crush on you was very inconvenient at first."

    "Why?"

He shrugged before pulling you to his chest, your face reddening at the contact. He noticed, but simply shook his head as you buried your face into his chest.

    "Because I thought it was too good to be true."

    "Am I the one freaking out each time or are you?"

    "Yeah, that part even I don't get."

You giggled before wrapping your hands around his neck, bringing yourself closer to him. Your face was at the crook of his neck, eyes closed as his arms were wrapped around your waist. You were both currently on Kenma's couch, nuzzling with each other on a lazy class-less Monday.

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing Kenma's roommate, in all honesty, did not know how to react when a famous Twitch streamer was lying asleep on his roommate. Kenma gave him a nonchalant look before placing a finger on his lips.

    "She's asleep."

    "Y-Yeah, that's definitely what I was thinking." The roommate said before rushing to his room and locking the door.

Well, Kenma thought before bringing his hand back around your waist, That's a problem for another day.

[obscurexodd]

Will you tell the Dr Phil story?

Due to the nature of this show, I'm sure you can assume that this involves a messy situation. In this case it involved mental illness. I'm going to do my best to avoid being graphic about it, which the show didn't because they care about shock value, but I see no reason for excessive descriptions of gore.

Okay so the episode was about an internet "celebrity." I knew her. Like she lived in the same area as me, and even though I never saw her in person I had her on both Facebook and Snapchat, we had friends, blah blah blah.

The reason she was on the show was because she was popular for showing and talking about her self harm. At first it was just positivity, like "Hey, this is my body, I don't have to hide it or be ashamed of it just because I have scars." And that was cool and positive. But it blew up and the attention that came with it enabled her problem and made it so, so much worse.

Not only did she start talking more and more graphically about her issues, but she began doing live streams with open, gaping wounds, drinking vodka straight from the bottle every ten minutes, talking about how many stitches she had at the moment, and just completely changing the narrative around the subject. She wasn't being praised for accepting herself, she was being praised for publicly destroying herself. The worse she got, the more fans she had telling her they loved her. It would make anyone worse, not just her. Positive social re-enforcement is a hell of a thing to fight when humans are by nature social creatures.

So, here's where I come in. Like I said, I sort of knew her. I talked to her a few times, but the few times I did talk to her were alarming to say the least. When I mentioned that I also had struggled with self harm, she immediately asked me to show her my scars. Which, as someone who spent a lot of time in inpatient wards, it can be validating to see other people who struggle with the same visible problem you do. (I had a roommate who I'm still friends with who asked to touch my scars and I let her, it never felt violating or uncomfortable, it never felt bad, we were just talking about what we'd been through)

The thing here is that the conversation sounded like a competition. Every time. She talked a lot about how many times she was in the hospital and what she did and how her mom was a nurse so she gave her stitches and mopped up her blood. I don't want to say it sounded like bragging exactly, but I will say that she definitely sounded like an addict, which she was, but not one that was looking to recover.

(She's doing much better now and I'm very proud of her. When people are addicted to anything, whether that's a behavioral addiction or a chemical one, it radically alters their behavior and I don't think it's fair to judge her character as a person based on this. But regardless, it wasn't healthy for anyone involved.)

Now, this wasn't mentioned on the show because it wasn't deemed relevant, but one time I was in the cardiac unit because of a suicide attempt and the first thing she did was tell me that what I did wouldn't actually kill me. Which, regardless of if it's true (in this case it wasn't. I won't list methods of suicide but the damage done was serious enough to land me sedated on a ventilator, in the operating room, and then the icu. It was a literal near death experience, bright light and out of body and all that bullshit. So yeah I'm still bitter about that comment but moving on), is never acceptable to say to someone who attempted suicide. Ever.

So at that point, I was furious and just done. Personally, that is. I decided I would no longer interact with someone who was going to seemingly minimize the pain I was in and the harm I was causing to myself. She was still online doing her thing.

Eventually there was an online petition to get her removed from social media, which didn't happen but it did get enough controversial attention to land her on the show. I ended up talking to the woman who started the petition about my experience with her personally, as well as my concern for her because of how clearly she was spiraling and how she was being cheered on for it. She thought it was significant enough to ask me if someone from the show could contact me and I said yes. I told them the whole thing but they only chose to relay part of it, which is fine. It wasn't about me, it was about her and her health.

After the show her online presence diminished significantly, which is probably for the better, but she said that the show only brought on bullying and was bad for her health. I have mixed feelings on my involvement. I don't like that she was bullied and publicly humiliated, and that I indirectly contributed to that. It also gave me insight as to how the people on this show are treated, because I could tell by her reactions that none of this was what she'd anticipated. But if it did help her recover in any way, then that's positive. I'm not close enough to her to know, but I do feel bad about how horribly she was bullied following her appearance.

Edit: PLEASE do not look for this if you are triggered my images of scars or self harm. Half the videos that are suggested aren't even the episode, but videos of people's own, potentially very triggering, scars and sometimes cuts. Addictive behaviors are often extremely competitive in the mind of addicts, even recovered ones. Part of that can be due to personality but part of it is that we live in a society where if you're not the sickest, people are under the impression that you don't need help. This is not true. Please keep yourself safe.

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

This Christmas - A Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 7)

Two life long friends. Secretly in love. Home for the holidays. Will they risk everything by telling the other how they feel? Or will they spend another year loving from afar?

Read these first    Prologue   Part 1    Part 2   Part 3    Part 4   Part 5  Part 6

**

“So, how’s the family?” Jeff asked.

Harry sat on his bed, holding his phone in front of him as he chatted with his manager over facetime, “Mum’s good. Gem’s coming up tomorrow, I think.”

“Well, that’s good,” he said. “What’s it like being back home.”

“It’s uh… just what I needed,” he smiled.

And he meant what he said. Being back home and being with you was exactly what he needed.

“What happened,” Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“You have that look on your face,” he said. “The one where something happened and you’re not telling me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Except you do,” Jeff said, “Now, tell me.”

Harry rolled his, “Fine, if you must know. I’ve reconnected with an old friend during my time here.”

“A friend, or a friend,” he said.

“The latter,” he sighed, dramatically.

“So, then you’re seeing someone?” He asked.

“Technically, yes,” Harry answered. “We’re taking things slow.”

“Good,” he smiled. “You need someone special in your life.”

“She’s definitely that someone,” Harry whispered.

**

“Wow, you’re making fabulous progress,” your agent said. “I’ll say I was a little worried about you heading home, but it seemed to work some magic.”

“I guess you can say that,” you smiled.

“Have you thought of a title, yet?” She asked.

“Um… no I haven’t,” you sighed.

“Well, we still have time,” she said. “Oh, one more thing before we get off here.”

“Okay,” you said. “What’s up?”

“The producers should have the final cast list by the New Year,” she said.

“Really?” You smiled.

“Yep,” she nodded. “They’re finalizing the screenplay soon and it’ll be sent over for you to look at it.”

“Oh, wow,” you said. “I was expecting that.”

“Hey, when they came to us we told them we wanted as much input as we could have,” she said.

“That’s true,” you said. “I’m really happy with everything so far.”

“Me too,” she said. “So, if everything is okayed soon, filming should start by the spring.”

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you smiled. “I never thought… I never thought one of my books would be made into a film.”

“Well, you better get used to it, love,” she said. “If this one goes well, then I’m sure your other’s will be made soon after.”

“Thank you again for everything,” you smiled. “I really wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”

“Hey, I’m just your voice. You bring the magic,” she smiled. “I better let you go.”

“Okay, talk to you soon,” you smiled.

**

Later that night, you were getting ready for a Christmas party. You were invited by a friend to meet up at a local pub for a little get together. You told Harry about it and since it was a mutual friend group, he was happy to join you. It has been so long since you’ve done your hair and makeup and worn actual clothes and not just different forms of pajamas.

You went into the house where Harry was waiting. You smiled seeing him dressed in a t- shirt and a pair of trousers with a cardigan over top.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, helping you into your coat.

“Compared to how I’ve looked the past few days, I believe it,” you joked.

“You always look beautiful,” he said.

“Not possible,” you said. “Everyone has their off days where they look gross.”

“True, but to be you’re always beautiful,” he smiled.

“Yeah, you just haven’t seen me trying to meet a deadline and I’ve literally not showered in like a few days, my hair’s a mess, and my clothes have stains on them because I didn’t bother changing them,” you said.

“That uh… sounds scary,” he winced.

“Ready to run for the hills, yet?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Not even close,” he smirked, opening the door for the two of you to head out to the car.

When you arrived at the pub, most everyone was already there. Harry placed his hand on your lower as you two walked inside. As soon as everyone saw you, they all shouted and rushed over to hug you two.

“The gang's back together!” One of them shouted.

You laughed, shaking your head, even though it was true. It had been ages since everyone had been back home, you were always missing someone, but that night everyone was there and it was just like old times. Throughout the night, you and Harry had gotten separated as you two were talking to different sides of the group.

“Man, Y/N is looking fit,” one of the guys said.

“Yeah, she is,” another said.

Harry sipped his drink as he waited to see where they were going with this.

“I can’t believe you broke it off with her,” one of them added.

“I know, I know,” he sighed. “I fucked up.”

“Wait, you dated Y/N?” Harry asked. “When?”

“You didn’t know?” They said.

“No,” he shook his head.

“Yeah, we dated almost a year, about two years ago,” he said.

“Was it serious?” Harry asked.

“I mean, it was more casual than serious,” he told him.

“Interesting,” Harry said, looking over at you.

“Why don’t you go over there and see if there’s still feelings there. You seemed to be very satisfied when you were with her,” the friend smirked.

“I might,” the guy said. “She looks like she could use some tension release.”

That’s it. Harry had heard enough. He downed the rest of his drink and pushed through the group he was talking to. He was pissed. He wasn’t sure if it was the thought of those guys who were supposedly his friends talking about you like that, or if it was because he was jealous that someone else was not only talking about you, but had been with you like that. Oh and then there was the whole, you failed to tell him you dated one of the guys you grew up with.

“Hey, Harry,” you said.

“We’re leaving,” he said.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What? Why? We just got here.”

“Yeah, we’ll if we stay here much longer, I can’t promise I won’t shove my fist into someone’s face,” he said. “So, either we leave or I push someone across the pub.”

“Um, excuse me,” you said, pulling him to the other corner of the pub. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you and Graham were together?” He spat out.

You sighed running your hands over your face, “Because that was over two years ago. I didn’t think it mattered and it’s not like we’ve really been on the topic of discussing our exes.”

“But he’s not just an ex! He’s our friend! Someone I’ve been spending time with!” He snapped.

“Oh you mean someone else you’ve spent time with over the past six years, but couldn’t ever spend time with me!” You snapped.

“Seriously? You’re throwing that back up in my face? We’ve been over this already,” he snarled.

“Because you’re yelling at me because you’re jealous that someone had the fucking balls to ask me out and actually be with me. We both have exes. We both have past relationships. If this is how you’re going to react at the thought of someone else being with me, then fuck you! I might have been in love with you for my entire life, but I didn’t just wait around for you to finally want me. And I know you weren’t waiting around either because all of your past relationships are posted over the fucking internet for the world to see!” You snarled back.

Harry jerked back at your words.

“Yeah, maybe I should have told you about Graham. But you want to get jealous over that because you might occasionally spend time with him and let’s be honest. You’ve never spent any one on one time with him, ever. You’re not that close to him. But for me, all I have to do is google your name and the first thing I’m going to see is everyone you’ve ever been linked to in the past ten years. I’ve had to deal with that for a fucking decade and I’m always going to have to deal with that. But you? You can’t handle my ex just because he happens to be in our childhood friend group? You’re right, you should leave, but I’m staying. I’ll get my own ride back,” you sniffled.

“Y/N, wait,” he said, reaching out for you as you walked past him.

**

A few hours later, you got out of the car and walked the long way around to the tiny house. You honestly don’t know why you stayed after your fight with Harry because you were miserable the rest of the night. It also didn’t help that you kept throwing back shots. You pulled your coat around you tighter as you walked through the backyard. You were exhausted and realized you really needed to pee.

You groaned knowing you would have to go into the house and you seriously debated on just finding a tree somewhere and be done with it. But it was too cold for that, so you snuck yourself inside. You didn’t want to see Harry, not yet. You were still annoyed and upset over what had happened. In a way, you both overreacted, but both of your feelings were valid.

You knew if you found out he hooked up with someone from here, you would probably be just as upset and jealous. But it still didn’t make it right. You got to the bathroom, sneaking inside, and being as quick as possible. Afterwards, you washed your hands, barely turning on the water, and drying them off before heading back outside.

However, you were stopped by the voice of the very person you didn’t want to see at that moment.

“Can we talk?” Harry whispered from his doorway.

“I think we’ve done enough talking for one night,” you mumbled.

“Y/N, please,” he begged. “I don’t want to end the night like this.”

You sighed, “Fine,” you said, pushing yourself into his room.

“Are you drunk?” He asked.

“Hard to tell,” you said, jumping onto his bed. “I had a few shots… some food and some water… so I’m probably like 80% drunk right now.”

“Lovely,” he mumbled.

“Hey, you wanted to talk,” you pointed at him. “I had every intention of still being mad at you.”

“Which you should be because I acted like an asshole,” he said.

“Acceptance is always the first step,” you giggled.

“Bloody hell, you’re a giggly drunk,” he shook head.

“I would love to confirm that, but I don’t have enough experience,” you giggled.

“Maybe we should hold off on this conversation,” he sighed. “You need to sleep this off.”

“Ugh, fine,” you said. “Fucking make up your mind.”

“Where are you going?” He asked, when you started getting up off the bed.

“To my room,” you said.

“You’re not sleeping out there like this,” he said. “You’re sleeping in here.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m a big girl, Harold,” you said, poking him in the chest.

“You’re a drunk girl and I don’t trust you out there by yourself,” he said. “You’re staying in here. If you don’t want me to sleep in here, fine. I’ll go to the other room.”

“I don’t even have clothes! I’m not sleeping in this outfit,” you whined.

“Then borrow some of mine,” he said, pulling some out of his suitcase.

“Your mood sure has changed,” you mumbled.

“It’s because I realized I overreacted,” he sighed. “You were right. I was jealous and upset because… I don’t want to think or picture you being with someone else. I know you have a past and I’m sorry I let it get to me… I just…”

You groaned, “I don’t feel so good,” you quickly got up from the bed, racing towards the bathroom where you empty all of your stomach contents into the toilet.

Harry sighed, following and sitting down beside you, holding your hair. When you were done, you leaned against the wall, wiping your mouth with the wet washcloth Harry had given you.

“The thing with Graham…” you sighed. “That only happened…”

“Hey, you don’t have to justify yourself,” he said.

“No, I need you to know,” you sighed. “It wasn’t serious with him. It was never serious with anyone. I tried to let myself, but I was never fully into the relationship. The only reason I got with Graham is because he was there…. I knew him… and he didn’t want anything serious either.”

“What do you mean by he was there?” Harry asked.

“I went… I went to one of your shows,” you whispered. “I thought maybe… maybe if you saw me there, you would have to talk to me. I texted Gemma, seeing if she would be there, and she told me she was. She was going to get me backstage and everything to surprise you. But-”

“But what?” He asked.

“You were with her,” you whispered. “Your ex. You seemed so happy and in love. You looked at her the way I always wanted you to look at me. My heart broke into a million pieces because up until then I really thought maybe we had a chance. Even if it had already been a few years since we spoke. So, instead ruining that, I just… left. Gemma tried to stop me, but I kept going. That was when she realized I was in love with you.”

“Gemma knew?” He whispered. “Gemma knew you were there and never said anything to me.”

“I asked her not to,” you told him. “She felt horrible for omitting the truth from you, but I told her it was for the best.”

“Maybe it was,” he admitted. “I don’t know how I would have reacted seeing you there.”

You didn’t respond other than wiping fallen tears from your eyes. Harry scooted over to sit closer to you.

“I wouldn’t get too close,” you mumbled.

“I don’t care,” he whispered, pushing hair out of your face.

“We can’t change our past, right? We can’t go back in time and do things over, but we can do whatever it takes to make sure our present and future are what we want them to be,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” you mumbled.

“And I’m sorry I yelled at you causing you to yell at me,” he whispered.

You laid your head on his shoulder, “I’m sleepy.”

“Then let’s get you back to bed. We can finish this in the morning,” he said.

He got up from where the two of you were sitting on the tiled bathroom floor. He reached down, picking you up like it was nothing, and carried you into his bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his chest, as he carried you. You placed you on his bed before getting the clothes he had picked out for you and handing them to you.

He turned around while you undressed yourself before pulling his clothes over your body. Once he knew you were finished, he looked down at you.

“Stay in here,” you whispered.

“You sure?” He asked.

You nodded, pulling the blanket down for him to join you.

“Mum’s probably going to kill me in the morning,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you. “Or throw a box of condoms at my head.”

You giggled, “Those might come in handy one day if you’re lucky.”

“Is that a promise?” He smirked.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out,” you said.

He laughed, shaking his head before planting a kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back before closing your eyes and falling into a drunken sleep.

**

SORRRY Again for the super late update. I hope to have Part 8 posted tomorrow at an earlier time. :)

[aion-rsa]

How Dear Evan Hansen Changes the Musical’s Ending

https://ift.tt/2XGJPiD

This article contains Dear Evan Hansen spoilers, both for the movie and the stage show.

No matter how you come to the story of Dear Evan Hansen, and regardless of the medium, things always have to end at the same apple orchard. It’s fitting since Evan’s first major lie about Connor Murphy, the boy who killed himself, was that they spent whole days in the then-abandoned orchard, talking about girls, boats, and whatever other fantasies Evan could concoct. And it’s here that Zoe Murphy, Connor’s younger sister, requests Evan meet her for the story’s final scene.

This is true of the stage show, which took Broadway by storm five years ago—winning six Tonys including for Best Musical and Best Actor for Ben Platt—and it’s the same for the movie, with Platt’s Evan coming to a now renewed orchard and sitting with the cinematic Zoe (Kaitlyn Dever). Among the trees, Evan can see at least one good thing that came out of his lies: The Connor Murphy Project reopened this small slice of paradise.

Yet how Dear Evan Hansen gets to that moment in the movie is drastically different from the stage musical. Then again, so is the world in the five years since the musical’s Broadway debut (and six since it was first performed in Washington D.C.). Hence why director Stephen Chbosky and screenwriter Steven Levenson, who adapted his own book from the stage, have attempted to adjust to our current social climate. The new ending addresses the harshest criticisms about the Evan Hansen character, and the values his tale might promote. This is, after all, a musical about a troubled young man who exploits the suicide of a stranger in his school to increase his popularity and to insinuate himself into the dead boy’s family.

But is the new ending an actual improvement? Well…

How Dear Evan Hansen Ends on Stage

The entire narrative of Dear Evan Hansen pivots on a misunderstanding between Evan and the Murphy family as the latter grieve over the suicide of Connor. When Connor’s parents, Cynthia and Larry, first misconstrue Evan’s letter to himself as their son’s suicide note, Evan attempts to correct them. However, they seem so heartbroken, and Evan is so desperate to please and be accepted—by anyone—he quickly goes along with it and begins spinning tales about his and Connor’s intimate friendship.

The musical is thus a rising crescendo that builds as Evan climbs higher and higher off his mistruths. So the inevitable moment where his house of cards comes crashing down is the narrative’s real climax. And yet, in the original version of Dear Evan Hansen, the story more or less ends right there. After Evan confesses in the song “Words Fail” that he lied about the letter and his entire friendship with Connor, the horrified Murphys walk away from him one by one, with various degrees of disgust. He then comes clean to his mother in the final big song of the show, “So Big / So Small,” where she comforts her son. She’ll never walk away.

The musical then quickly jumps one year into the future, with Evan revealed to be working part-time and attending community college, hoping to save up enough money to someday attend a university. Zoe, who’s now a senior in high school, invites Evan to the orchard where he thanks her family for never revealing his secret to the public—never telling the world he lied about Connor. And, rather incredulously, Zoe absolves Evan and the audience of any guilt. She says, “Everybody needed [the lie] for something.” She even goes so far to say it “saved my parents.” It brought her family closer together.

So while it’s still bittersweet since Evan’s relationship with the Murphys, including Zoe, is forever severed, there are still no real consequences for Evan other than Cynthia and Larry won’t pay for his college education. Even his guilt is assuaged, and he can brag to Zoe that he’s been reading the 10 books Connor said were his favorites in eighth grade. The show more or less ends in a figurative group hug by omitting through a time jump all of the messy fallout from his choices.

How Dear Evan Hansen the Movie Ends

In the film, “Words Fail” is still the climax of the story, with Evan confessing his sins and Zoe walking away. However, in one telling addition, Cynthia (played with delicate fragility by Amy Adams) is barely able to whisper, “I think it’s time for you to leave” while holding back tears. Since she was Evan’s biggest champion, that she is now the one who states explicitly he is disinvited from their home hits hardest.

Then after Evan’s heart-to-heart with his mother (Julianne Moore), we actually see Evan attempt to make amends for his misdeeds. For starters, the whole reason the truth finally came out in both versions of the story is because of the machinations of a schoolmate named Alana (Amandla Stenberg in the film), who accidentally unleashed a whole social media mob on the Murphys, with randos on the internet blaming the parents for Connor’s suicide.

On stage, this plot element is entirely dropped after Evan confesses to the Murphys, who presumably bear the brunt of the social media hate in quiet while protecting Evan’s secret. In the film though, Evan actually attempts to talk to Zoe in school the following week and she asks him to leave her alone. She also reveals the only reason her parents haven’t unmasked what Evan did is because “they’re afraid you’ll do something to yourself.” Like Connor.

Thus Evan gets on Twitter that night and tells the world, “[The Murphys] don’t deserve your hate. I do.” He confesses. Afterward, he again becomes a high school pariah, but we learn in montage he is more content this way as he tries to make further amends to the Murphys by not only reading Connor’s favorite books but tracking down someone’s phone video of Connor during his stint in rehab. Evan even finds footage of Connor playing his guitar, a feat he hid from his parents. The new song “A Little Closer,” which scores the final montage, is revealed to be a melody Connor wrote and sang in rehab, and Evan is able to at least mail that to Connor’s parents. He’s finally given them something true that they didn’t know about their son.

Only then, before the current school year ends, does Zoe invite Evan to an apple orchard and they reminisce about what might’ve been.

Does It Improve Evan Hansen and the Story?

The clear implication for adding these sequences, plus a song that the real Connor Murphy character can sing, is intended to fix the moral and thematic slipperiness at the heart of Dear Evan Hansen. Through a series of hummable ballads by songwriters Benji Pasek and Justin Paul, and some heartbreaking performances, including by Platt in the original cast, the stage production relies on the power of its emotions to overwhelm logic or deeper analysis. Some might even say it manipulates.

Yet over the years, the musical has had its fair share of detractors who pointed out how calculating and toxic the Evan Hansen character can appear. And the fact the musical just ends on the emotional high point without actually bothering to sift through the wreckage of what Evan did has always been a cheat.

Conversely, there are a few fleeting sequences in the stage version where the musical at least briefly seems to consider its darker implications. Evan’s loose group of (bad) friends in Alana and Jared contribute to this element in the song “Good for You,” where they sing in unison, “Well, I guess if I’m not of use, go ahead, you can cut me loose. Go ahead now, I won’t mind.”

The Alana relationship is particularly interesting in the show since it is only after she demands of Evan “how” will he raise $17,000 that he shows her Connor’s “suicide note.” He immediately protests after she decides to post it online, but did he not on some level show it to her in order for her to use it to raise $17,000 and reopen the apple orchard? After this scene, Alana ghosts him, suggesting she was herself only using Evan to brandish her social clout in the school and, eventually, her college applications.

The Dear Evan Hansen movie tries to wipe even this thorniness away. The context of Evan showing the note to Alana is handled slightly differently, but as a consequence there’s no ambiguity on why he showed it to her—he did not intend for her to share it online. She also, like Evan, is softened around the edges when she does answer Evan’s ringing phone on-screen and cries that she tried to take the letter down but it’s still all over social media.

The logic behind the change would seem to make both Evan and Alana more purely sympathetic and blameless for their mistakes. In Alana’s case, she isn’t a master manipulator, and in Evan’s case it is beyond his control when others take things too far. He then puts in the work to help the Murphys, beginning by admitting to the world his dishonesty.

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These were obviously conscious choices made after the five years and full lifetime which passed since 2016—a year where Barack Obama was still president and the #MeToo movement hadn’t yet occurred. Now in an age where social accountability, especially in online life, and alleged authenticity are valued more than ever, having a hero who lies to the world and gets away with it is inherently problematic. So the flaws in Evan’s choices, and even Alana’s, are “fixed” with crocodile tears of regret from Alana, and then Evan making an actual effort to atone for his mistakes.

Yet I would argue it doesn’t actually improve the fundamental issues with the musical. In the case of Alana, having a character show the ugly side of social manipulation, even among ostensibly sympathetic figures, was one of the truer impulses in a story that otherwise glorifies the healing power of finding validation from strangers on the internet. While both the film and show also depict the downside of online life with a discordant singing hydra coming after the Murphys, it’s only because of a couple of misguided mistakes. And in the case of the stage show, the larger message is Evan’s musical platitudes are simply too powerful (or profitable) for the Murphys to shatter.

In 2021, Evan and his creators make the choice that he can admit his mistakes. Yet the story still attempts to justify Evan’s actions, which ironically puts the film at odds with itself. It basks in the splendor of Evan’s self-help ballad, “You Will Be Found,” and then shows him suffering comeuppance for lying—even if Zoe still gives him final absolution.

The one significant change that clicks for me is Evan at least seeking out some hidden truth about Connor, and sharing it with the real people who actually loved him instead of strangers, who in turn would only again offer performative gestures and signaled virtue toward a kid they otherwise ignored. Hearing Colton Ryan’s Connor sing for himself—for the first time in any medium—and not merely be a puppet for Evan’s self-serving fantasies was a significant, moving improvement over how this thread is resolved on the stage.

Still, I think going further in that direction with Evan realizing the crassness of what he created, and the emptiness of his bromides, would’ve made this a more interesting narrative. But what do I know? My instincts wouldn’t have turned this into a Broadway anthem for Generation Z. So how about yourself? Do you like the new ending to Dear Evan Hansen?

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The post How Dear Evan Hansen Changes the Musical’s Ending appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2ZlN281

[teeentyonepilots]

To preface: I am not here to speak over any black or POC fans and also that people are allowed to feel what they are feeling in regards to this situation.

tw suicide tw racism tw discourse

I wake up feeling like a truck has hit me, to be quite honest. From like 5pm onwards everything was like a slow train crash as everything snowballed. Stating now: BLM and mental health discussions can and must exist together especially due to the toll systemic racism has on the mental health of black persons AND subsequent impact on treatment. I see his tweet about one must “keep trying” to add more even if one cannot think they can and I challenge him that there must be a space for highlighting how being a person of color makes navigating an already broken system even more impossible and countless lives have been lost because of that.

This feels like a culmination of a low point and disconnect between the band and the fans. We are on completely separate pages and he lacked the context and understanding that everyone has changed this year and celebrities have to be smarter in how they approach their fan base. Every day someone else is called on to be accountable for their past words or actions, and being quiet in the face of human rights violations is considered to be, to use his words, violent. Everything has changed.

Tyler has spent a lot of time away from social media lately. I acknowledge his tweets about checking in on one’s mental health to realize you’re not doing well, followed by saying spending time off social media, which he has been doing. What he may not have realized is that he came back thinking we were in one place, and finding that in fact, his usual banter and joking with the clique is not going to fly.

I just want to say that your mileage may vary on how you see everything and your eyes may not view something how someone else does. I’ve been reflecting on how I, and also a lot of what I see in the world of social media, that we want to convince everyone to have the same viewpoint and interpretation of information. It is exhausting and impossible to get everyone to agree with you. My therapist says you just have to understand not everyone can meet you where you are. There are things in life you can control and things you cannot— and to protect your own mental health, you should recognize that changing who someone is one of those things.

There are infinite perspectives on situations and emotions people feel depending on their own life experiences that guide to how they respond. I am trying to keep perspective on how I feel may differ from others and when it’s words said over the internet, when we cannot discuss face to face and have a deeper discussion and see context and intentions— all we can do is assume. Some may assume the worst and some may give the benefit of the doubt, but a lot of that comes down to perspective and projection of our own experiences. We have to understand we are all coming from different places.

The facts: Tyler tweeted a joke that missed the mark completely. He is used to joking with fans and fans are not at that point anymore especially after about a month+ of silence. (and I’m now even seeing some people explain that the joke was even self deprecating— goes to show how words can be interpreted in so many ways, since I hadn’t seen it that way at first. I take things personally a lot so I had assumed the worst from it). He said the joke and that was it for two hours. Everyone got riled up, myself being one of them, thinking he was shading the fans who have been asking him to speak up and use his platform for good because times have changed and saying nothing is not sufficient anymore.

Two hours later, after everyone had time to brew and steam, he began a disjointed (ie not in a thread, which then made the statements seem spur of the moment and reactive) discussion on mental health. Tweets were just coming in, and it appeared to be out of character for him— someone who watched every step they make and thinks things through. I was concerned about his mental health because I’ve seen many people have melt downs online and he was discussing suicide and not being in a good place. We can never assume where someone is in regards to their mental health, and again, we lose some context when we cannot look at someone’s face and body language and begin to interpret their intentions. We will project our own experiences onto words when all other context is lost.

I think when putting the discussion on mental health into a vacuum, there were some good points made that in a usual setting, people would have responded well to. I’ve been going through a lot over the past year, compounded by the pandemic and being a frontline responder. It would have been nice to have someone I admire telling me to make my mental health a priority, that it is tough but not hopeless, and I am not alone.

But this doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and at the end of the day, fans have felt unheard and trivialized, especially the BIPOC fans who are already facing so much. He is trying to choose one platform thinking he can stick to what he knows but the world has changed from putting platforms into boxes. Where mental health is stigmatized, it becomes even worse for people of color to live through due to systemic racism. I hope he educates himself and his next words and actions are to highlight that, and advocate for others.

He made another joke at the end and it felt like another slap in the face. There was more time for people to get angry and discourse upon his words. Mass confusion, concern were added to the climate. Another two hours passed before he apologized and said Black Lives Matter and shared a carrd, which was the basic course of action fans wanted him to take. Again, your mileage may vary on how you interpret his words in those tweets, either way, he dug himself a hole and there really was not good way to extract himself from it. There has been a disconnect between the band and the fans and this is a turning point.

It feels like everything is on fire, and what you choose to do is up to you. I’ve been looking at what black clikkies are saying and I found this tweet to be good to keep in mind: https://twitter.com/shlofolina/status/1301346529815539713?s=21

Where do we go from here? I don’t have that answer yet.

We will see where he goes in the future and what he says and does after this. At the end of the day, I am a fan because I saw good in the band and who they are as people. You may call me a fool for hoping that he continues to educate himself and reflect and will improve— but from what I’ve seen from being a fan for many years, is that Tyler engages in introspection and learning. Life has sucked a lot that having hope that the things and people I love will turn out to be good and positive— that’s what I have left. I want to keep a critical eye, recognize that no one is perfect, and understand I cannot put everything into a person who I do not really know. I need to keep perspective, but I also need to have hope. That is for my own mental well-being. I believe that the majority of people are, at their core, good. You may call me naive or pie-in-the-sky but that is what I believe. I need to believe that and believe things will get better because then what is the point and why even try

Your feelings are valid. My feelings are valid. Keep in mind everyone has different perspectives and contexts to situations. check the power you give to people over your life and emotions. Educate yourself. And always, take care of yourself. You are a special and important person. You are loved and cherished. If this becomes too overwhelming, please log off and find self care activities that help you. You cannot fix the world if you cannot help yourself. Caring for your mental health helps everyone in the long run because it prevents burnout.

If you have read through my ramblings, thank you. I still feel very all over the place in how I should feel and proceed. I am trying to seek out what black fans are saying to keep their perspective in the forefront. We all have a lot to process and I wish you all a good day and healing. Know that I love and care about you. You are worthy and enough.

[wannabepygmalion]

30 factoids let’s gooo

( i just felt like doing these for fun... seeing briar do it + the ask memes got me thinking and i had the urge lmao )

1. His favorite Sanrio character is Cinnamoroll!! Also a fan of Marumofubiyori and Pompompurin.

2. Domino enjoys some music from pretty much any genre, but his favorite music usually is of the pop rock-pop punk-rock umbrella of sounds. He likes music that you could shout along to for Emotional Release (even though he will not actually do the shouting. he just still likes that vibe). 

3. He likes Animal Crossing. Probably doesn’t care too much about having a super finished and decorated island, but I imagine he tends to drift towards fall/autumn aesthetics and cottagecore vibes for what he does do… I think some of his favorite villagers would include Sylvana, Marshal, Teddy, Patty, Chief, Benjamin, Anabelle, Eunice, Shep, Hazel… he likes most of the Sanrio villagers too.

4. His favorite season is autumn, unsurprisingly.

5. Domino really likes dyeing his hair! He likes the sensation of looking in the mirror afterwards and his reflection feeling Different. 

6. He’s just so into art and art history. Once you get him to open up and he doesn’t feel like he’s annoying you, he will happily talk your ear off about (checks watch) the Corinthian order of Ancient Greek architecture. 

7. Also he does enjoy himself a little K-pop. He’s not super, super into it, but he has some groups he follows. Likes some songs he comes across. This is largely because I like to think about what kind of idols he’d bias since I”m so into it. I would name some groups he’d like, but I doubt any of them would still be around by 2030--

8. Growing up, his family never had any pets! Too busy. I think, honestly, Domino’s maybe never lived in a household that had pets, only met other people’s briefly. He would enjoy having a pet someday, but right now he doesn’t feel stable enough or like his life situation is good for a pet.

9. He has a couple fake succulents in his bedroom. He is currently too nervous that he’ll accidentally kill one and feel awful about it to try looking after a real plant.

10. His roommate’s name is Atlas! Atlas is a Twitch streamer who’s been getting more popular recently due to Minecraft roleplay, and is also a musician. Atlas’ online handle is Bird; his real identity is not public information.

11. Which. Yes, Domino has played Minecraft. But only on creative mode. He thinks it’s fun to build when his brain needs to chill, not really here for combat and all that.

12. He has a tattoo of a larkspur flower on one of his forearms; he got this pretty recently! Within the last 3 months or so.

13. He is banned from every Jamba Juice. If you ask him about this, he will either avoid it or tell you a different story every time.

14. Domino is actually really good at drawing as well as sculpting, but he heavily prefers sculpting. He’s been drawing for longer, but, when he first tried sculpting, something about it just clicked with him that he’d never experienced prior. 

15. He doesn’t drink alcohol, nor does he consume caffeine!

16. Atlas is also a faceless streamer -- his audience doesn’t know Domino exists beyond Atlas mentioning he has a roommate. Domino would like to keep it that way as much as possible.

17. He’s not a big spender… a good chunk of the money he earns from working goes to general life expenses -- rent, groceries, etc. He is not rich by any means. Money that’s leftover gets put away for when he needs to buy more art supplies; he spent a hot minute saving up for his tattoo since he wanted it to be nice.

18. Domino has an Instagram, but he doesn’t really do the “social” aspect of it. He just uses it more like a portfolio to post his work. Doesn’t respond to comments or anything, doesn’t look at it otherwise.

19. In general, he kinda avoids social media besides, like. Youtube and Twitch, and even then, he’s a diehard lurker for everything. He has spent some time browsing R/ddit, though, because it’s a decent place to see people talking about extremely specific experiences. Been on some specific forums too. Sometimes stuff like that makes him feel more validated and shit. Only valid R/dditor on the planet, etc. He absorbs other internet culture via osmosis from Atlas anyway.

20. He doesn’t drive! He still has a license for the sake of having a valid ID, but doesn’t drive with it. Doesn’t even have a car.

21. He has an older brother, who’s an engineer. He’s a couple years older and is off married somewhere else having an extremely normal life. Domino is estranged from his brother and has never met said brother’s wife. Probably didn’t even go to their wedding, honestly.

22. Domino doesn’t do commission work! He just kinda… does things at his own pace, then displays and eventually sells his work when it’s done.

23. The agent Domino works with is an older woman who works at a local art gallery that kinda took him under her wing. For obvious reasons. I mean, look at him. Her name is Veronica McCoy. Yes, I just took two names from Riverdale and slapped them together.

24. He doesn’t believe in soulmates! Or love at first sight, for that matter.

25. Domino’s usual typing style is actually a lot more laid back and casual -- no capitals, more prone to shortening words, etc. However, he types a lot more formally when it’s appropriate and/or he’s not comfortable with everyone in the convo. Similarly, he’ll loosen up a little in-person as he grows more at ease with you. To no one’s surprise, he will not give anyone nicknames unless they tell him to call them something else… he doesn’t want to offend.

26. Yes, he can and will swear if he’s comfortable with you. Yes, Domino can and will say ‘fuck’ -- though, he doesn’t throw it around constantly like some of my other characters. 

27. Domino has read a translation of all of Ovid’s ‘Metamorphoses.’ He loves that shit.

28. I think cows are one of his favorite animals… he just thinks they’re cute and have very sweet faces. He never wants to touch T/kTok (or its future equivalent) with a 10-foot pole, but he would be very pleased if you sent him videos of cute animals. Curated content with none of the stress.

29. When very focused working on something, he tends to stick his tongue out. :P

30. Some plants I would associate with him include: cyclamen, columbine, and meadow saffron!

[oreocoffee]

Continuing with My Goals

You guyss!

As I was venting these past few days about feeling very sad, angry, and lost. I am finally feeling much better than before and I am recovering from being sick. I still have a cough here and there, but it will go away with time. I still cannot smell anything, but I do not have covid. I think it is from the second dose of the vaccine that I have a loss of smell, but it should get better in a couple weeks.

Yesterday and today I have been in a good mood because I had talked to my husband about things that bothered me. I felt reassured through him and I am learning to find happiness within myself. I feel I am become dependent on my husband a lot and I need to work on that. I am trying to find balance between asking for help/letting others help and doing things myself without seeking help from others. I guess it is from being sheltered as a kid or its from some toxic part of social media that has given me a bad idea about marriage. So, learn to love myself, finding happiness within myself and if my marriage does get toxic (I hope not), I do not spiral out of control and get super depressed.

I remember my brother telling me that he does things by himself, he has hobbies, a great job which he is good at, and does things he loves. He is well accomplished and basically has confidence in himself where he does not have trust issues. When I told him about myself, having trust issues. I always remember this because it facts! If you are confident in yourself, you will not have trust issues. You will not seek validation from others to make you happy or people please. I remember his words every time I feel sad because it helps me.

Today, I accomplished a goal which was finishing a 15min workout without stopping. I got it done guys!! It makes me super happy. I did not exercise for weeks and today I just decided to and I got it done! I also took a nice shower where I exfoliated my body and shaved everything! I feel so good (Alhamduhlillah). I have been continuing to brush, floss and do a face wash at night. I hope I continue on this road of new habits because it makes me feel good and I am taking care of my body, that Allah has given me and will question me about.

Now, I am regaining confidence in having long walks outside which will turn into morning runs (insha'Allah). I realized I like morning workouts, especially doing sun salutations (yoga). I will be adding runs/walks to my morning routine as it feels nicer to be outside during that time.

I NEED to get in my studying time and study efficiently and actually learn. I usually just learn how to do a problem, do the homework and I forget what I just learned. My classes are online and the internet connection isn't always solid so I miss out on lectures.

Also, I had to install a software which was not working out for me. So I spent 2 days trying to fix it. Once the support guys contacted me the problem got solved! Which made me realize that it is okay to ask for help. Also, while the thing was downloading I could have done other things as it took its sweet time. Anyways, lesson learned and I will not be angry at myself for it.

[asherlockstudy]

I got into gmm fandom this year and I love these 2 old men extremely, and I recently read your discussions about Link's psyche and the ear biscuits commentary and I totally relate to you. I couldn't find anything that you wrote about the competition eb#255. I'm very interested in your thoughts on this particular episode since your ideas on their psychology really fascinates me. Will you please share?

First of all, thank you for your kind words!

The truth is I certainly have an opinion on the competition episode but I was hesitant to post anything about it because I wasn’t sure whether that would push any boundaries. Since you asked, I am going to tell you, but I would like to stress to any MB who will read this that this theory / analysis works through a Rhink perspective or at least the perspective of an intense friendship, which I think their friendship is anyway, so you need to be in that mindset from the beginning. This is obviously my personal take on their conversation; the way the puzzle pieces fit inside my mind if you will. It can be as far from the truth as Rhink itself in general. Technically it can be read out of the Rhink lens but IMO it makes more sense this way, so I’m gonna tag this only as #rhink. 

Now let’s actually go to the topic in question. Rhett and Link are both competitive but in different ways and for different reasons and to different targets.

Rhett is naturally competitive. Or maybe not naturally per se, as I think this competitiveness was planted inside him by his father. His father expected him to be good at everything, an expectation that Rhett then internalized and simply never escaped from. His competitiveness might be maximized by feelings of insecurity and self-consciousness. If Rhett cares so much what people think of him, it’s only natural that he wants to ensure that people will think highly of him and that requires him to be good, look good and always perform well. The more Rhett loves and is loved by a person, he’s sooomewhat more relaxed in revealing his weaknesses. Rhett is always competitive but he’s less competitive with his close friends and family than with strangers. Rhett would take 100 defeats from Link than one from any other youtuber. And like he said, Rhett doesn’t mind losing to his sons because he wants them to do well and because, duh, they are McLaughlins and they are proof success still runs in HIS family.

Link is insecure too but handled it for the most part of his life in a completely different way. I have the impression that until 5-6 years ago Link had resigned and lived defeated inside his insecurity. His own insecurity stems from lack of self-worth, which probably stems from feelings of abandonness in his childhood. Let alone that if there’s any truth to the queer!Link theory, he also felt socially and religiously alienated from everyone around him, most importantly Rhett, and all this suffered in silence. This is why his insecurity is associated mostly with the people close to him and not strangers. Link doesn’t care much if random people think poorly of him which is why he’s not self-conscious and can talk to people. But Link is hurt a lot if a person he loves a lot doubts him or mocks him or simply doesn’t  regard him very highly. He has a primal fear of getting taken in, abandoned or betrayed. He’s grown to become a suspicious person, often entertaining the worse case scenario, fearing that a person he loves could actually not love or respect him back as sincerely. As an example, from everything they’ve said I have the impression Link adored Rhett when they were children. He looked up to him and Rhett was some sort of role model for him. Link didn’t have many other friends and certainly not others like Rhett and the rest of his time he spent mostly alone in his home. Meanwhile, Rhett had more variety in his life: he had other friends, including Ben whom he admired so much, hobbies and an obsession with girls. So it’s safe to assume that Link was more “there” for Rhett than Rhett was “there” for him, without that meaning IN ANY WAY that Rhett didn’t love him as much. But Link couldn’t know that - and when Rhett was busying himself with something else, his feelings of abandonness and lack of self-worth intensified.

I think Link never escaped from these feelings.There were some GMM episodes where Link has implied that he often feels Rhett takes him for granted and shouldn’t. In short, Link loathes that he feels uncertain in his friendship with Rhett whereas Rhett feels perfectly sure in it. This, especially at a point 4-5 years ago, when Link started changing stylistically and in the way he carried himself (we can only guess why), it was also the time Link’s efforts to fight that feeling of defeat especially around Rhett reached their peak.

I trust Rhett’s input in this. I don’t doubt Rhett senses competitiveness coming from Link’s side. What Rhett might not understand is that Link is not globally competitive but mostly towards certain people, including him, first and foremost.  Things such as vanity, overt enthusiasm when winning, “OOOOH HA-HA-HA-HA” when Rhett got insulted, “I prefer time with my wife”, “I can’t be always there for you”, “I have other friends beside you Rhett” are some random examples of this overcompensation that is the unconventional competitiveness Link feels against Rhett. “Against” is a strong word though because I believe Link doesn’t do any of this to bring Rhett down but rather to go up and be on the same level as him. NOTE: I don’t believe Link is in any way lower, I believe Link fears this is the case. Link dreams of an entirely equal and balanced relationship between them, not because it isn’t so, but because he has invested so much in Rhett that he constantly fears everything he can lose. He wants Rhett to look up to him, to admire him so that he can keep him, and moreover keep him eternally interested and intrigued. In short, he wants Rhett to feel the way he feels about him and he thinks this cannot be as long as Rhett takes him for granted or doesn’t take his skills, mind, virtues and looks seriously. Furthermore, his tendencies to take most of the control in their job and be a perfectionist could also be connected to all that and increase his anxiety associated with the stability of their job.

The problem is that Rhett perhaps doesn’t understand the motive behind Link’s behaviour and interprets it as plain old competitiveness. He’s however, as I felt in the podcast, troubled by it being targeted to him. A remark like “I have other good friends too” is something that makes Link feel more independent from Rhett but Rhett could occasionally get hurt and think “Okay but why does he have to say this to me?”.

This unavoidably is channeled in their business too. A duo of internet celebrities? That’s like the recipe of guaranteed failure! Even non-competitive people have destroyed their businesses and friendships this way. What Rhett and Link have managed so far is world record. Part of their success is how open they are to each other about how they feel. In fact, it was very healthy of Rhett to confess openly that he has some level of “mild envy” about Link doing well in various aspects of the show. This means that Rhett sat down when he experienced these feelings, had a talk with himself and reached the conclusion that he was very happy Link was doing well. He just felt he had to push himself to be as good - not better -  so that he would not feel bad about himself contributing in this show, in this business. And in short, Rhett feels he need to compete with Link in being as likable to the viewers. I consider this totally understandable.

Link was reluctant to speak openly throughout the whole episode. And that was because his answer was not that easy. From everything he said, I was positively surprised that it seemed Link has it all laid out very clearly in his mind - how he acts and why. He just wasn’t willing to explain, particularly in public. This becomes clear towards the end of the podcast - when Rhett is essentially about to lose his mind because Link denies everything, Link starts to say something only to stop and decide he shouldn’t do it eventually. More importantly, Link adds in the end that Rhett made the big mistake to base his understanding of Link’s competitiveness in minor conventional things such as games and job performance. Link said that Rhett was stripping their relationship off of way too many parameters that he wasn’t taking into consideration to reach a valid conclusion. So indeed Link’s competitiveness is a very personal topic with deep roots and IS connected mostly (if not exclusively) to his relationship with Rhett. Link doesn’t want to be better than Rhett either - he wants to be as good as Rhett and be liked by the viewers. Not for the viewers’ sake but in order to rub it in Rhett’s face later. Again, he doesn’t want to hurt Rhett - this is likely a desire for guaranteed continuous attention from Rhett, whatever it takes.

Furthermore, Link always makes sure to draw attention from the audience as much as Rhett, if not more, (which could be fundamentally what Rhett interprets as competitiveness and doesn’t know how to regulate) which is Link’s way to ensure he’s not taken for Rhett’s sidekick (in his own words) by either the viewers or Rhett himself, because inside Link’s full of concerns mind this hits a little too close to home.

Now, if there’s any truth to Rhink, intensify this by 10x.

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 21

Previous: Codename Black Panther 

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x OFC

Genre: Secret AgentAU, Government AgentAU, Smut Lite

Rating: PG17

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: Swearing, Grinding, Making Out 

Summary: Lee Euna receives a startling message and goes to the one person she assumes will have the answers, or at least, an explanation. 

(uhhh didn’t know it was going to be this long)

The Final Notice

Present Day

           The note said they’d be meeting me face to face, but months have passed, and I am sitting here, waiting. Waiting for a sign, for another note, for someone to be sitting in my living room when I return home, for a dead rabbit to appear in my pasta pot, Jungkook to be taken for ransom, literally anything. And yet, nothing has happened. No note or call.

           I’ve increased surveillance on Taehyung, the only one who seems to connect some of these men, and by a stroke of pure genius, put a tracker on his car and Namjoon’s, as well as a few bugs in their apartment. There’s only so many times you can send flowers with a vague card, and a listening device embedded within the glass. Who gets rid of vases? Hopefully not these men.

           I’ve learned few things in my listening, namely that I am correct. The men are connected. Taehyung and Jimin are best friends and spend an innumerable number of hours together. They also spend time with Namjoon, who I think, if I’m correct, knows Hoseok. Hobi is a nickname for Hoseok, right? And if not, I’m fucked. They’ve added a new person to their discussion, someone they call Black Panther, who sounds like a right pain in the ass. All they do is bitch about how they’re constantly on call to deal with Black Panther’s mess, that Black Panther is getting in their way and in turn, ruining all plans. They speak in some code I don’t know, and I don’t know how to crack it. What I’m more startled by, is the fact that they continue to call this mystery person black panther, who calls a friend Black Panther? That’s like, cultural appropriation lite?

           It’s not, I’m kidding. It’s totally not.

           When I put it all the information together, Black Panther out of the equation because I have no idea who it is, it doesn’t amount to much. Names and addresses, a few yelp reviews, and nothing more. My gut is telling me there’s something here, something more than what Euna believes. Hoseok showing up in Genevieve’s photos, the trio going out to dinner, the mysterious note with the water mark, it has to add up to something. That and they keep mentioning the 7 of them, when the 7 of them are together, they’ll make sense of it, when the 7 of them are all clued in, they can handle Black Panther. Is Black Panther not their seventh member?

           The door to my office slams open, and a disgruntled Euna stomps in, lily white, tears cascading through her foundation.

           “Euna, what a sur-

           “Did you know about this?” She demands, shoving a picture in my face.

           “What?”

           “They know each other!” She yells.

           The photo, a polaroid, of Min Yoongi, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Kim Namjoon. I’ve never seen them all together, Euna was right, they are despicably pretty.

           “How in your world did you not figure out that they know each other?”

          “I-

          “They look pretty fucking chummy to me!”

           “Euna, please, sit, let’s chat,” I stand to get her a water, which she yanks out of my hand and tosses down her throat.

           “Have you been withholding information?” Her voice has simmered, the bubbles of discontent slowly rising to the surface but never popping.

           All I can do is sigh and shrug my shoulders. Lying is not going to work, she’s paying me enough to give her one of my unused eggs, the least I can do is be honest with her.  

           “That’s unfair, I could demand money back for your deception,” Euna says.

           “I have withheld information on the basis that I need more time to connect the dots,” I start. “This is season 1 of The Wire and I’m fucking McNulty asking for more time to put the wire up. These men, Euna,” I exhale again, “It’s not linear, I can’t just plot them and see the whole picture. It’s much more complicated than that.”

           “Explain,”

           “All of it?”

           “Yes, all of it, you think I want to fucking understand parts of it?” Valid question.

           “Fine. It starts sometime when Kim Namjoon was sixteen, I’m not sure what that something is, but that’s the beginning of it. He was a prodigy, renowned in mathematics and rhetoric, short listed for a Nobel Prize by fifteen. After Namjoon, it moves to you and Seokjin, which leads to you and Yoongi, Jun-Seo and Jimin. Finally, it all ends up at Taehyung and whatever happened there,” I glance at her, hoping she’ll tell me if the supposed abortion was from him or someone else. “Somehow Jung Hoseok winds up at Lee Enterprise’s Masquerade, and Kim Namjoon comes back into the picture as a friend of Jimin and Taehyung’s.”

           “Jung Hoseok has taken Kwan on a few dates,”

           “Are they still seeing each other?”

           “No. That’s all you’ve got?”

           “I’ve got more, but I’m not sure it’s going to help you understand this anymore than you already do.” I don’t move to open any files on my computer or pull up any surveillance, Euna doesn’t need that, that information won’t help her in any way understand what these men have in common.

           “Does this make sense to you?” She asks.

           “It’s all,” I sigh, “fits and starts.”

           “Why am I paying you?”

           “Euna, you have given me an already impossible job, and then added more impossible tasks on top of that. I have found all of these men, I have addresses, I have occupations and locations of current employment for five out of seven. I’ve done a fucking good job on something that should truly be solved by a governing body, not a P.I. who bought thirty dollar’s worth of Indian food and ate it over five days because I couldn’t afford to buy more. I’ve used all my resources, called in favors, spied, tiptoed on the brink of impropriety in order to get you results. I’ve done a damn good job.”

           Glowering, her voice is impenetrable, “Then why can’t you find Min Yoongi?”

           “That man has erased himself from the internet, completely, from every website, every search, he’s just gone.” Exasperatedly, I throw my hands in the air as my voice rises. How many times can I explain this to her?

           “He’s alive though,” She counters.

           “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I can pinpoint him,” I grit my teeth and stand, pacing slowly around my office, her voice trailing behind me as I move.

           “He’s really,” She pauses, “Out of any of them, Y/N, he’s the one.”

           I run my hand through my hair before pulling at the strands and aggressively knotting it in a ponytail, the anger feeding into the heat of my body and I shed my sweatshirt. A sweatshirt, with a line drawing of a uterus, that my mother refused to buy me for my birthday so I spent $90 on it myself. I know Euna hates it, but it’s my office and I didn’t know she’d be popping in today in her Dior terrycloth jumpsuit. If I did, I would’ve at least put on a J.Crew sweatshirt and leggings that don’t have wax on them from making crayon art with the kids I used to nanny.  

           “I know, Euna. I know he’s important, I know he’s the one that got away, I know he’s the white whale of this whole investigation. But Euna, he-

           In the middle of my breath, the door opens again creating a space for Jungkook to saunter in. He’s parted his hair, a little off center, and hasn’t put in any product leaving the tendrils to fall softly framing his face. His locks are still long adjacent, and his left hand is using his sweater paw to hold a scalding beverage. His eyebrows are sloped, a genuine look of concern reflecting into my irises. The relief I feel cascading over me, of familiarity, of home, nearly bulldozes me into him.

           “Cricket, I brought you some,” His voice trails as he takes in my client. “Coffee.”

           “Oh thank god,” I whisper. Taking the cup from him, my eyes apologetic as I fall gracelessly into his open arms. The scent of his shampoo and cologne swirl in my nose, relaxing my senses. Nothing smells as sexy as Jungkook. No one looks as sexy as Jungkook does, no matter what he’s wearing, no matter the time of day or night. NSYNC put it best when they sang “god must’ve spent a little more time on you”, because whoever arranged the chromosomes and bone structure within Jungkook truly made a masterpiece. As the kids would say, he’s a whole ass meal. Jungkook keeps a hand splayed on my back while he turns back to Euna. He scans her up and down, no doubt assessing the level of danger she’s presenting.

           “Who are you?” Euna snaps.

           “This is my boyfriend, he was just dropping off some coffee,” I answer. The arm around his waist squeezes a little tighter, my head still resting against his chest.

           “Do I know you?” She wonders.

           “Me?” Jungkook asks.

           “Yes, you, who else?”

           He looks from me to her and back again, “Uh.” He shakes his head.

           “You look so familiar,” She eyes him cautiously, “You’re Korean?”

           “Uh, yeah,” His affirmation causes a twinkle in her eye, a recognition that if she wanted, she could use the powers at her fingertips to find his life story, overturn any

           “Hmm,” She scans him again. “Are you leaving?”

           “Oh, yeah sorry to interrupt,” Jungkook quickly glances at me, mouth moving to form SORRY as he scurries out the door. I hate when he leaves.

           “Don’t fall in love with Korean men, they’ll ruin your life,” Euna sits back down, tossing back some of her water before looking back at the photo.

           “Was something else left? A note maybe?” I hope this will move her back to the topic at hand, the photo in question and whomever left it, not my relationship.

           “Yes, there was,” She reaches into her purse and oh how I wish she had gloves on. The note reads like the last one I received, rhyming and all.

           “You’re looking too hard / We’ve been in plain sight / Stop looking for us / Or we’ll turn out your light,” I read. “Wow, premeditated violence.”

           “What the fuck does that mean?” Euna’s gone back to panic, eyes wild and cheeks red.

           “It means they’ve been in front of us this whole time, as in, we’ve overlooked them,” I clarify.

           “How could you have overlooked them?”

           “I’m not the only one, Euna, you have maybe overlooked them too. Maybe it’s a larger commentary on your persona in a relationship.”

           “My persona in a relationship? What would you know of that?”

           “I know what you’ve told me, and I know what I’ve seen through our interactions. No one is perfect,” I’m trying to soften this, but she’s truly living up to Dae-Seong in her blind rage.

           “Don’t try and compare your relationship to the heartache I have endured!”

           “Euna, I’m not,” The exasperation cannot be more pronounced as I roll my eyes and sigh heavily.

           “Your boyfriend, does what? How do you know he isn’t involved with these bastards?”

           “I don’t,” My honesty cuts her off, eyes widening slightly at my levelheaded response. Her pause gives me worry, what is she thinking?

           “Well, what do we do with these?” She shifts in the tension I’m brewing, I’m unsure what the solution is.

           “I can spend the afternoon trying to trace it, I can fingerprint the note and see what comes up, if anything,” I offer.

           “Will something?” A glimmer of hope, the worst emotion to ever contain or blossom in the human mind.

           “Probably not, whoever these men are, they are far too good to be caught doing whatever it is they’re doing.”

           “We need them all, all six,” Euna demands.

           “What do you want from them?” The thousandth time it leaves my lips, it’s complete insanity. This will never change.

           “What every woman wants,” She broods.

           “Euna, I don’t know what that is,” I’m sinking lower into my chair with every syllable.

           “Those who ask don’t get to know,” Abruptly she’s standing and leaving, belongings gathered in one hand, feet stomping heavily into the aged hardwood.

           Ah, another hint at her upbringing.

           I’m moving slowly through my apartment, Jungkook already sitting on the couch looking deeply cozy in his favorite grey sweats and a sweatshirt with a famous swoosh emblezaned across his chest. Dinner, pizza, is on its way, and a very large glass of prosecco sits waiting for me. I in turn am tossing off my bra, a sight Jungkook is audibly upset by, and coming to sit on the couch, in his embrace.

           “I couldn’t leave, she was mad, I was worried about you,” He tells me, his lips pressing to my forehead repeatedly. “I didn’t know if she was going to hurt you.”

           “About me? Bunny I’m okay, she doesn’t scare me, at least not physically,” I reply, my lips pressing against his neck in recognition of his vulnerability.

           “I didn’t know if she was going to hurt you,”

           “Bunny,” I sit up, turning my head to his.

           “Cricket,” His eyes move from mine to my lip, his thumb coming to swipe over the bitten cherry of my lower lip.

           “I love you, thank you for worrying about me,” I tell him, leaning in to kiss him, his soft, well moisturized lips making up for the bruised state of mine.

           “I love you too,” He hesitates, his lips starting to say something but stopping.

           “Jungkook?”

           “I also found, this,” He pulls out a note, the watermark distinguishable against the light.

           In black ink, a date and time is printed, and underneath:

Roses are red / Violets are blue / It’s time for us to meet / We’re ready, are you?

           “What does this mean?” Jungkook asks.

           “It means that, that I’m meeting with someone who may or may not want something from me, or maybe will hurt me. So just, be prepared.”

           “What’s the one promise you made me make when we first started dating?” He pulls me back into his embrace, but I catch the sadness in his eyes.

           “Aren’t we still in that honeymoon phase?” I want to lighten the mood and not focus on the way my heart is hurting. I never thought I would be the one concerned about not coming home, having Jungkook panicking over my safety.

          I don’t like it, like at all.

           “Absolutely, I think we’ll always be in that phase, but Y/N, please answer the question,” His arms tighten around my waist, another kiss to my temple, replaced by his soft cheek.

           “If you’re not coming home, tell me. If something is going to jeopardize you coming back to me, you have to let me know,” I quote myself.

           “So, if you are going to jeopardize your safety, Y/N, Cricket, my beloved, you gotta tell me. Let me follow you or drop a pin, or use Find My Friends so I can check up on you,” Jungkook rattles off all the apps with ease, a feat I find slightly concerning.

           “I don’t want you to –

           “No, no arguing.” His voice is curt, his words definite.

           “Okay,”

           “I love you, Cricks, and I don’t ever want to imagine anything happening to you.”

           “I know Bunny,” If I could burrow into him, I would. His embrace is my safe place, my weighted blanket after a panic attack, fuck during a panic attack.

          I have to come home to him. Whatever this note entails, it doesn’t matter. Torture me, harm me, beat me up, put me in the hospital, it doesn’t matter so long as when I wake up, or am lucky enough to walk away, I can come through that fucking front door to Jungkook.

           “You didn’t say it back,” He teases.

Rolling my eyes dramatically, squirming intentionally in his grasp so that I can lock eyes again, I sigh. “I love you too.”

           “Don’t act like that when you’d do the same to me!” He begins tickling me, and I feel beyond grateful for his duality.

           “Stop it! Stop it! You’re right, okay!”

           Giggling, his “I know,” is coupled with a kiss. He moves swiftly through my laughter to take my bottom lip between his teeth, tongue swiping over the indentations of his teeth before meeting mine. His hands, under my top and massaging my overheating flesh, pull me closer to him. I tug his locks as a moan escapes my lips, swallowed by his own groan as I reach my hand to palm him over his pants.

           “Cricket,” He groans.

           “Bunny,” I reply.

           He pulls away, pushing my torso down onto him, where my hips happily grind against him.

           “Lock and key?” He whispers, eyes refusing to close as he attempts to restrain himself from giving into the feeling of my heated core over his.

           “God we’re that couple now?” I stop my ministrations, staring at his features. How did I get so lucky?

           “Haven’t we always been?” He cocks an eyebrow, and I’m surprised he hasn’t mustered a ‘what’ to accompany the gesture.

           “I guess,” I roll my eyes, which he greets with a thrust of his hips.

           “Lock and key,” He repeats, hand behind my head, holding my gaze to his.

           “You and me,” I answer, the smile on my lips finding his again.

Next: Cricket & OT7

[blaster-aichi]

Cardfight!! Vanguard Extra Story IF 22 things

forgot to post this, heck

Aw, cute shopping trip because they feel things are drawing to an end, barrier or no —  [gets distracted by the little girl who looks just like Shingo]

Given the topic of conversation, felt Emi’s downcast expression was a hint of bittersweet realization that her time with Shuka is running down, then get smacked with even ruder sads.

There’s something massive ironic about Majesty Lord being pulled to the antagonistic side of battle after his role in the original Season 1 and embodying unification between Royal and Shadow Paladins when things get dire, now faced against the both of them.

Ren taught Shuka ‘Bukki’, bless.

Very appreciative of the explanation why Majesty Lord was so importaant to Shuka to Realize, though curious as to why he wouldn’t manifest in the first place.

MISAKI SIGHTED. Please don’t relegate her to post-Legion Mate Quatre Knights of voiceless cameos.

Side-eyes Emi for picking cards purely because of their cuteness, your friend’s calling you out.

With the truth of what led Aichi to ruling Sanctuary, Emi’s moment of finding no alternative but for the blame to fall on him is very relatable; at least some of us have been grasping at any explanation because we couldn’t imagine Aichi doing this of his own will, it’s incongruous with his character, and Emi may have been doing the same, but with options whittling down, she’s been forced to face that scenario that this has been all by his design and it upsets those of us who have been trying to figure out any other scenario, but to her, naturally it’s world-shattering.

How dare you fuckers use the same sads track from episode 7 where she was talking about the Aichi she knew.

He looks so worn down and I’m so upset.    — Even his tone when speaking reflects his exhaustion and reluctance to deal with shit. Please let me hug him.

Is this the first time he’s said ‘Toshiki’? Feels like this is the first time he’s said ‘Toshiki’.

Even when they don’t meet, fate crams them into one another’s heads. That’s gay. (But doesn’t go the Legion Mate route and make it a clean injection, both of them have become tremendously distressed and pained and I scream).

Takuto, you can’t just say that in front of him?!

Emi actually draping Aichi’s jacket over her shoulders is so cute, she really is giving it a piggyback ride. After he mentioning it aloud how he left it behind, half-expect returning it to be one of her first gestures once he’s brought out of his antagonist role.

Takuto’s referencing Outside World Aichi brings back thoughts of the previous theory that IF Aichi had been doing all this in an effort to reach outside IF, why do you hurt me in these ways after that backstory, Bushi? At the same time, Takuto needs shaking if he had any inclination that IF Aichi would have the mental fortitude to cope with that possibility existing elsewhere after a lifetime of loneliness.

The poor boy hid in the shadows and hunted for Kai-kun just to verify Takuto’s theory and torment himself more, sweetie no... Considering his methods for keeping his very existence from the potential of breaking the IF illusion, it’s consistent, but sweetie no...

Takuto onto Aichi’s bullshit. The post before this clarifies, but his solemn delivery and feeling responsible for accidentally instigating everything, would like to hope he’ll be able to make a move in helping to rectify Aichi’s state.

Two things: You’re saying he had nothing to pass on through Miwa? And why did he never contact Suiko or Rekka before? Because there was no certainty they were inside IF? Isn’t it apparent they would follow once he and Kourin never returned? Did he even try?

Sad Rena howling noises in the background.

If Aichi is banking on her saving him, never let him know there was a moment where it all got too much and Emi gave up on him.    — She’s doing the Misaki episode thing again.    — Though it’s understandable the guilt she must feel; they might be correcting the timeline, but she’s conveyed her feelings before that each iteration of a person isn’t any less valid than another; though Kai-kun has come to terms with and accepted that there is another version of himself in a “proper” timeline, the same is essentially true for Aichi and Emi, who for all we know, could/will vanish along with him. It might not just be Emi sympathizing with others and not wanting to write them off as incorrect versions, but trying to validate her own and her brother’s existences as well.

Suiko and Shuka are onto the price the group are going to pay regardless; the preview isn’t subtle about it. Whether it’s Shuka having to move onto another place where more cards are waiting for her to rescue them or something more final awaits her, it’s difficult to tell. Though the former is simply a part of her journey and might not evoke the sorrow from someone like Suiko, it might be a sore spot for her, particularly with everything she, Kourin and Rekka lost, faced with having to watch the same happen to someone else. But Emi herself seems already be aware of this, she’s a smart girl.

IF 23

Squad goals. Squad goals.

Aichi looks ready to straight up murder and have to wonder who taught you how to pull those faces, boy?

If you’re going to be fighting in the area, please keep the babies safe from harm. Who knows what they might see?

What space-time commotion did you guys cause to alert all the other major characters across the city?.

On the one hand, more Majesty Lord Aichi aaaaaaa. On the other hand, that episode title, screams. (Now are you guys directing that to Aichi, Kai-kun or Shuka? Sus)

This take on the “They Never Met” story:

It’s taken a while for the fact IF is taking the route it is with the story to sink in; a lot of thoughts and feelings are still incredibly jumbled, but here goes An Effort.

As someone who's childhood has a lot of overlap with Aichi’s, it’s incredibly painful to actually see him endure it without the beacon of hope that gave him solace and the toll it’s taken on him to endure it. Having a loving family and a sibling could alleviate the pain, there are fond memories with things with my family that don’t make my childhood an unending nightmare, and it’s apparent that he and Emi were particularly close; though understand that by 16, he’s exhausted by it all, pretty sure I was.

I want to believe that he was able to find at least one other hobby to keep his life from being completely devoid of happiness; reading, writing, art, a love of animal, photography, meeting people on the internet, there has to be something. There are plenty of outlets that could have channelled his imagination to keep it from building with no freedom. The lack of clarification about what he spent his time doing does nothing to help this belief or deter the fears that  he really never tried to find anything, and really hoping that’s able to change before the season is through.

But something about Aichi’s reasoning really doesn’t line up. He claims to be doing this so that he be the only one who has to suffer. And really struggle to fathom how he could think so when Emi and Shizuka, would and are suffering with him. Emi’s own pain has been right in his face and he’s turned away, he can’t be that narrow-minded to think she isn’t in anguish or that forgetting him would magically erase that of her or Shizuka.

My understanding (or interpretation, headcanon, what have you) of Aichi has always been that his unrelenting kindness stems from knowing well the absolute agony of complete loneliness and hopelessness, so he acts to help alleviate or prevent the same feeling upon others. Vanguard shouldn’t have any bearing on that trait staying with him or not; that’s something within Aichi, not created by one facet of his life that appeared one day, particularly when he’s even more familiar with such a rock bottom, even if the exhaustion of it weighs on him; he’s always put on a smile and done his best for someone else’s sake, no matter the cost to himself — and that is what he’s doing, but it’s incredibly difficult to believe he can only manage that demonstration of kindness towards others when he’s connected to or aware of Vanguard.

I can understand Aichi being worn down, I can understand him being a bit hostile and reluctant. But to lack his good heart and throw everything away, to put his family through the nightmare he has been, I can’t understand that, it just isn’t him. He isn’t that dependent on Vanguard to be a good kid.

With how vital the event and relationship are to both Aichi and Kai-kun, to explore the possibility that they would never meet is fascinating, but this feels like a lukewarm attempt at it, at least in regards to what this episode covered and that in itself is saddening, it feels like an incredible premise with wasted potential, just like Legion Mate. It saddens me immensely that this is how they tell that story, more so when it’s the last one we might ever have from this cast.

Late-Bloomer PsyAichi:

The only possibility, and this is very much a last-ditch at this point, draws on ideas from Override (is there an IF plan in the works? laughs with shovel maybe since the day before epi 1 aired), so chances are these might be as swiftly debunked as other ideas.

With the rapid influx of memories breaking through the IF illusion, Aichi’s imagination’s shackles were released, according to Takuto. The result was Psyqualia overloading Aichi, its poisonous nature of the original continuity repeating itself as a result of festering inside of him for years without usage.

By retaining this nature, it amplifies Aichi’s fixation on Kai-kun, maybe through an amalgamation of other PsyAichi remnants in line with the original continuity who became overwhelmed by that obsession blinding him to the pain that other characters have experienced through their connections with Vanguard or the suffering he’s putting his own family through to see IF secured.

His mind struggles to contend with the sudden explosion of power and his sanity withers when viewing possibilities that he was never granted, reinforced by Takuto’s claim that Kai-kun’s life is better as it is, of Aichi’s strength in those other worlds, of longing to reach his alternative selves and feel his existence holds any value. He doesn’t truly have control over himself as a result of this madness, which is why he refers to Kourin by just her name.

How Sanctuary itself formed, there’s just nothing that comes to mind. Unless IF has special properties that just haven’t been explained that allow for more supernatural events to occur — like Sanctuary’s appearance, the battlegrounds that don’t inflict real world damage on their sites — can’t really wrap head around how Aichi was able to create it.

The original distortion’s root:

Something else that still doesn’t make sense is Shuka being led to Blaster Blade as a withering existence. And as Aichi himself never played a part in that, the past couple of weeks had had me suspicious of Nome, and other fans have been pointing fingers his way as of late. His disappearance in episode 1 hasn’t been addressed, and it’s odd for him to so briefly show up only to seemingly play no part.

It’s just a possibility, but he, whether tainted by something Brandt or sibling jealousy, tampered with the Akashic Records to lure Shuka in and cause the accident that prevented Kai-kun and Aichi from meeting, shaping IF Aichi’s life to keep him from deviating from a path that Nome had set for him, using someone else’s brother (and someone known to be a powerful force is let loose) as a weapon.

If Brandt has a part in any of this, perhaps he infected Aichi with it, to allow it/his Psyqualia/imagination to overload him when exposed to the truth beyond IF.

This is all just grasping at straws at this point because really struggle to see Aichi doing this of his own accord and I believe him to be better than this, I want to believe the writers do too.

[beautifulletdownfics]

Twenty Good Reasons :: Part Four

Hello! Welcome to the ‘Someday, Someday’ sequel! I hope you’ll enjoy your time here! Before you start, make sure you check out the Harry & Nina Chronology page to catch up on a few of the drabbles and novellas that slot in the gap between ‘Someday, Someday’ and ‘Twenty Good Reasons’. As always, please don’t be strangers, posting into the void is a terrifying thing! Love K x

++

Harry

We had a bad week after New York.

I posted a photo of Nina on Instagram when we went out for dinner the night after her interview. She thought it went well and came out with a big smile on her face, so I suggested treating ourselves while we were in the city. We went to the prestigious restaurant, The View, on the forty-seventh floor of The Empire State building and there was something about the soft lighting and the glow off the window that made Nina look absolutely gorgeous. So, I took a photo of her and explained it to the world with only a red, heart emoji.

I didn’t even think about the fact her engagement ring was in plain sight.

The fancy decor around us and the decadent looking dessert in front of Nina had everyone thinking I’d proposed that evening. In actual fact we had been engaged for almost a month and the real proposal involved muddy wellies, and dark chocolate digestives and tea as the celebratory meal. But by the time we were back in the apartment we were staying, the internet was alight with the ‘announcement’ of our engagement.

And it was fine, in a sense, because we hadn’t been hiding the fact we were engaged. Our families and our friends knew, and it was news that we weren’t going to be able to keep to ourselves forever. We had hoped for it to trickle out calmly. Perhaps it was both Nina and myself proving we were in denial a bit, that we didn’t want a big, public fuss to be made. Really though, the reality was that no matter how it was revealed, news that we were getting married was going to be made a fuss of.

So we got back to the apartment, took a few deep breaths and then started getting used to the idea of people knowing. Nina turned off her phone, and I talked to a publicist about them releasing the statement we wrote the week after we were first engaged, the one we wrote in preparation for the news coming out

Then, we made a pot of tea and watched an episode of America’s Next Top Model before bed.

The following evening though, things got a little bit hairy when it came to getting into JFK for a flight back home.

It seemed that because everybody knew we were in New York, even more paps were camped outside the airport knowing at some stage one or both of us would be heading back to the UK. And it was just their luck that we were going home together. Upon later reflection, I was glad it wasn’t just Nina on her own.

I knew as soon as we were out of the car to get into the terminal building that Nina wasn't okay. Her grip on my hand was a little too tight to just be so we didn't get separated in the crowd. I could feel the tips of her nails pressing into the skin above my knuckles and her palm was completely rigid in mine.

She didn't cry until we were in the first class lounge, and even then it wasn't until I had settled her on one of the couches and gone off to get us refreshments at the bar. We spent the next twenty minutes in the closest cuddle position appropriate in a private place and Nina sobbed into my chest while we waited for our flight to board. I knew they weren't tears of regret, but ones of fear and apprehension because she was about to get a whole lot of attention for the next little while. Attention she had managed in small doses over the years, but there would be nothing like what was to come.

The next thing happened when we walked in the door at home.

Nina turned on her phone after the flight and there was a missed call and voicemail message from the job interview. She called them back straight away with shaking hands after we had a quick discussion about what the time over there would be.

She sat down on the sofa as soon as someone answered on the other end, I sat on top of the coffee table in front of her, our knees bumping together. I reached out for her free hand when she said she was fine with being put on hold as her call was directed to the correct person.

I became clear pretty quickly than Nina didn’t get the job. From the way her eyebrows drew together and her voice became her small, quiet one I knew what was being said to her was hurting. I felt an awful form of guilt, or something equally as horrific, watching the person I cherished most in the world getting kicked when she was already down. I wanted to take the phone off her instead of having to keep listening to Nina with her chin bravely up, thanking them for seeing her and considering her at all. In that moment, I didn’t dare let myself entertain the fact I might actually be to blame by being openly against the whole thing.

We didn't really talk about it until the next morning. I was keeping an eye on her but not pushing Nina to talk. I could tell the difference now—after more than four years together—between when Nina was processing, and when she was shutting down. And this time she needed to process.

When we did talk though, I could see the forced optimism behind her words—that she knew this wasn't the end of the world—but I could also see that in that moment she was still disappointed and upset. And because I didn't know what the best thing to do would be, I let her stay in that place.

It was at breakfast on our first Saturday morning home together that Nina declared bravely, “I’m okay, you know, Harry? I can tell you’ve been worried about me, but I’m okay, really.”

I carefully turned around to her, holding out the frying pan and scooping a spoonful of eggs onto her plate. She had been sitting, hand juicing oranges into little glasses for our breakfast, while I was in charge of the cooking of the hot foods. A few pieces of egg fell off the side of the plate and it was second nature for Nina to quickly scoop it up with her fingers and drop it onto the toast.

“I know you’re okay,” I said, almost sounding absentminded, but really I was distracting myself with our breakfast while my mind whirled through ways to keep everything okay, “I’m just …”

“You’re waiting for a breakdown,” She accused calmly, when I looked up at her she had a loving, gentle smile on her face.

It killed me, “Neens.”

“Really, I should be offended you have so little faith in my emotional state,” She joked, but it was an evil, self-loathing humour.

“Don’t,” I said darkly, “That’s not funny.”

She moved around the counter to put the juicer into the sink, her palm brushing around my side as she went, “Humour is a coping mechanism.”

“I know,” I replied quickly, turning around so I could keep watching her move, “Just tell me what’s going on in your head.”

Nina lent back against the sink, her legs looking longer than ever when she wore the little running shorts that had become Saturday’s uniform, “I didn’t get the job,” She shrugged, “There’s a bit of mess in my head, but I know there’ll be something else for me, some other job.”

My thoughts tripped on the mess in her head, “What’s the mess?”

Or you could write the damn symphony, I thought to myself.

“Just … You know, that I’m not good enough,” Nina gave nothing away on her face, which made it worse, “Or I’m not as good as I think I am. I’m self centred, stupid, facetious, undeserving.”

My gut instinct was to tell her to stop talking about herself like that, to stop thinking about herself like that, but I knew I needed to validate her feelings. I just hated that I knew exactly where that voice echoed from.

“That’s a load of fucking bullshit, Nina.” I began carefully, “You know you’ve worked hard, you know you have a boat load of talent.”

“I do,” She nodded, “Just hurts is all.”

It was her small sniff that got me, “C’mere.”

Nina stepped forward heavily, shoulders slumping the closer to me she got, “We’ll laugh about this later on.”

When she was pressed against my chest I pulled her against me as tightly as I could, “I could never laugh about a time when you think you’re any of those things you just told me.”

I felt Nina’s sigh all down my body, “Can we do something together today?”

With one more tight squeeze I let her go slowly, “Anything you like.”

*********

We didn’t do this nearly enough.

We packed a picnic rug into the back of the Rover and stopped off at our closest high street in Highgate. Nina picked all the food from the deli while I went into a cafe across the street to get take away coffees for us both. We met back at the car and it was then only a few minutes to get up to the furthest east side of Hampstead Heath, which somewhere along the line had become our favourite spot.

The walk wasn’t far to the big, old tree that we liked best. Nina lay out the blanket, half in the shade and half in the sun. I smiled to myself when she claimed the shaded spot and blurted out a pun to her that earned me a kick in the bum as I lowered myself down in the sunshine.

We chatted while we ate until we ended up lying side by side with empty containers littering the space around us. Nina’s head rested on my shoulder and my arm wound around her easily, her fingers looping through mine over her chest.

“What would happen if we slept out here?”

I hummed in thought at Nina’s question, grin cracking my eyes open despite the glare, “Probably not a lot. It’d get really cold and we would regret it, I imagine.”

Her voice sounded sleepy and drawn out, but happy, “I loved camping as a kid. We should try it at home, then if it sucks we can just go inside.”

“Solid plan,” I agreed.

Nina let out a long sigh then, her shoulders tensed with it and when she took the breath back it caught at the back of her throat, “I was going to say we should try it next weekend but with all the snow it’s likely we wouldn’t make it through the night.”

I ran my hand up and down her arm, “I’m not sure why you’re so nervous about going.”

“It’ll be fine,” She decided bravely, “I know that. And once we’re there it will be great to have everyone together for a bit.”

“Ah,” I caught onto the detail of what she’d said, even if Nina herself hadn’t meant to, “You’re nervous about the getting there bit.”

Nina sighed and rolled over onto her tummy beside me, “I didn’t enjoy coming back from New York last week.”

“Neither did I, Neens.”

“It’s alright,” She diverged bravely, “Plenty of time for sleeping in the garden after.”

After tour is what she meant, but we both knew it didn’t work to make plans for a time so far away. It was better to concentrate your time and energy on making things good at that time, instead of how we could fix things months later.

“We could try this week,” I humoured her, pressing my smiling lips to her temple, “But I’m not sure you’d look particularly cute frostbitten.”

“Don’t you have a hero complex?” She asked through a smile, “If I had frostbite you could save me.”

I shook my head, “Nope, I don’t find the thought of you injured at all appealing. No.”

She whacked my chest and I cracked into a grin at her laugh, “You’re the one who gets injured anyway, aren’t you?” Nina teased, “At least this time you have to be on your best behaviour before New York.”

“What?” I scoffed cheekily, “I could do an eight month tour with a broken leg. What are you implying?”

“Your leg definitely wouldn’t be in a cast for eight months, idiot.”

The time suddenly struck me; eight months.

Nina watched my face carefully as I’m sure my happy demeanour crumbled right before her eyes. I’d been home in London off the Asian leg for seven weeks and by next weekend, there would be another five months of shows ahead of me before a break and then three more.

“H,” She whispered quietly, swallowing thickly herself.

“Eight months is a long time,” I brought my lips together and pulled myself to be sitting up. Nina scrambled to do the same.

“We’re starting off happy, right?” She quoted myself back to me. “I know I stomped about a bit about Canada but it really is a lovely idea, Harry. Everyone’s so excited.”

Hiring a chateau at a Canadian sky village and having both our families away for a week’s holiday had been my idea. An attempt to somehow disguise the start of another leg of the world tour behind the thrill of all being together in a new, beautiful place. Nina and I loved the snow, and we loved Canada. I thought if maybe we were all looking forward to the holiday, we might not dread the beginning of another long period of separation.

“I feel like I’ve been on tour the whole time we’ve been together,” I admitted.

“You mean my fiancé has had a steady, reliable job that he’s passionate about? Yeah, sounds right,” Nina smiled; always the optimistic peacemaker, always diplomatic in her responses. Too much like me.

“You can be mad, you know?” I told her, not completely buying her playful bit.

She smiled again, it was soft and warmed her whole appearance from the inside out, “I don’t want to be mad, Harry. I’d much rather miss you while I have to and look forward to a time, years down the track, when you’re trying desperately to convince our kids you used to be cool.”

I felt a zap of something magnificent down my spine, something happy and safe and wonderful.

“And naturally, you’d be arguing on affirmative for that.”

“One hundred percent,” She responded. “Little Pippa and Scott, we’ll have them convinced.”

I let my body fall back against the picnic rug, covering my face with my forearm and letting out a resounding groan, “Those are not the names of our kids!”

Nina giggled and let out a squawk when I blindly reached for her waist and pulled her back down beside me again, “Those are perfectly reasonable names!”

“Pippa,” I said the name with as much distaste as I could muster, “Is a great name for a cat, not a child. Not to mention the fact that’s almost exactly how people in New Zealand say ‘pepper’.”

“What about Scott?” Nina asked through a laugh, already knowing full well my dislike for the name.

“You’re mean,” I told her, “Not at all sympathetic to my childhood trauma.”

“You were an adorable child, Harry,” Nina pulled herself up to press her lips against mine in a steadying kiss, “Kind—inside and out—right to the core.”

Scott was the name of the grade one bully at my school. At some point over the years, my mother had divulged onto Nina stories about a much younger version of myself trying desperately to ‘save’ the schoolyard  bully. It was my mum’s fault too, all those life lessons about the people who needed friendship the most were probably those being mean to you. I tried to make Scott O’Conner like me, I tried to make everyone else like him as well.

It had been a summer weekend, I remember that much. Nina and I were staying with Mum for a few days and it was gloriously warm the entire time. The very first night Nina and I had a conversation in bed, one that I’d been desperate to have but unsure how to broach; to know what Nina thought about having children. We were just coming up to our first anniversary.

I hadn’t wanted to be presumptuous and just assume that, like most other people, she would want to have kids one day. I really hoped that was the case though, I’ve always wanted children. Nina was so loving and caring, I couldn’t imagine her not being a mother one day.

The conversation beneath the duvet had taken us well into the small hours of the morning though, because with my question came a heartbreaking response. It had been a sobering moment in our relationship, and one that, looking back, I could see I’d really stepped up. It was a moment you recognise the adult version of the you that you walk around as everyday; not really thinking too much about things until all of a sudden you have to deal with the responsibility side of things.

“Harry,” The Nina lying on her back in the middle of Hampstead Heath beside me interrupted my thoughts, “What were you thinking about?”

I turned on my side to talk to her, “That first time we spoke about having kids, when we were in Cheshire at Mum’s.”

She bit her lip and I knew she understood exactly the time I was referring to, “Seems like worlds away, yeah?”

I frowned, “Do you feel differently?”

“No,” Nina shook her head, “I just meant that lots has happened since then, that’s all. That was a non-hypothetical hypothetical time, you know? Like, now we’re engaged and that would’ve been what …” She paused to think, “Three and a half years ago … I mean, now … Now it’s—

—It’s going to be me,” I finished, knowing it likely wasn’t what she was going to say, but that didn’t make it any less relevant, or true, “I’m the one you’ll have kids with.”

I trained my eyes onto Nina to watch her next move. She let out a long breath and reached her hand out for one of mine, “When we get there.” She said as some kind of mantra, “Worrying about it now won’t help.”

I leant in and kissed her lips slowly, “You’re … We’re doing everything right for now. Stay healthy. Stay on top of everything now.”

She nodded feebly.

The ‘everything’ was Nina’s depression.

Nina’s depression that I had found out that night in Cheshire haunted her in more ways than I was initially aware.

I knew everyday was a battle for her, and I had been around long enough to know it was unreasonable to expect it was one that we could win everyday. But I hadn’t realised that Nina’s depression had her looking forward to possible events in her future with unease.

Post natal depression, she had told me, was considerably more likely for her.

In a moment of true, absolute honesty she told me she was afraid of having children. She was scared that she wouldn’t be able to be the mother they would deserve, and just as importantly, the mother she wanted to be.

Right from the very beginning of knowing her, I’ve never been good at handling Nina when she was crying. I never knew what to do, never knew if it was one of those times it was appropriate to let her cry or if I needed to find away to make her stop. Her sadness made me nervous because in the back of my mind was the fear I might lose her to it.

But in Cheshire that night I could do nothing but cry with her. Because it was devastating, one of those things you don’t think about until you come face to face with someone who lives it as a reality every day.

And even though, at that stage, we hadn’t been together all that long it was utterly shattering, to hear Nina confess she wanted to be a mother but was terrified to do so. And it was shattering in a beautiful way as well, because there was already such a respect for parenthood, and a consideration for life that didn’t exist yet.

“Harry,” Nina called me back again, “You’ve got pre-tour distracted mind.”

“Sorry,” I shook my head at myself. “We should get on home, shouldn’t we? If we’re going to pack tonight.”

“Yeah,” Nina agreed easily, but I knew from the look in her eye she was worried about whatever had taken my mind away from her in that moment.

I took the back of her neck in the palm of my hand and pulled her forehead up against mine, “I love you.”

She scrunched her nose up at me, “I love you too, let’s get married.”

I shrugged, feigning mild disinterest, “Sure, why not?”

*******

The following evening Nina, my mum, Gemma, Laykn and I were on a flight from Heathrow to Vancouver. Nina’s parents were flying from Manchester and would arrive in a few hours before the rest of us. From there it was an hour drive to the Whistler ski resort. If everything went to plan we would all be together in just over twelve hours.

It was chilly in London, although I knew the weather we were going into would be even colder. I loved the feeling that dressing for winter gave, a warmth and snuggly one that had me wriggling my toes in my boots and happy to be sitting with Gemma as we waited in the British Airways First Class lounge.

“You’re going to break a bone this trip, aren’t you?” She sighed dramatically next to me, settling down again after I had dropped a scalding cup of coffee down my leg during a competition with Laykn to see who could balance a cup on their knee for the longest. My poor mother had leapt up to apologise to the staff profusely for the mess and Nina gave me a threatening glare from her spot sitting talking to her brother.

“I’d say at least a minor sprain.”

We were quiet again for a few moments when I felt her take in a charged, suggestive breath of air, “Is everything alright?” She asked quickly, “I mean … Are you and Nina good? You seem … You seem fake,” Gemma finally admitted, a hint of sadness in her tone, “But you’re both trying really hard not to be.”

I hadn’t expected anyone else to notice, but that was a silly thing for me to have thought, especially when we were about to spend the next week with our families.

I considered my words and then calmly turned around to face her, “We’re good. And Nina’s good as well … I’m just not very good at leaving. It’s the same old guilt that I don’t think either of us knows how to deal with, and … A fear that we’ll be next, you know?”

“Next?” Gemma asked curiously, our words whispered comfortably between us. My big sister had always been a safe place.

“I guess the longer you’re together the more of your friends you see breakup,” I explained, “And, I mean, Tim—from my band—and his girlfriend Alexis got together long before Nina and I did. They broke up just before I came over for Nina’s performance and … It’s rattled us.”

“Yeah but even people who are married forty years have to start somewhere, H,” She responded prudently, “You can’t measure you and Nina against other people.”

“I know,” I replied gently, “But … I guess them breaking up has shaken me. I really looked up to Tim in that sense, how he’d kept his relationship going after so many years doing what we do. I always figured if Tim could do it, so could I.”

“You still can, Harry.”

“No!” I backtracked quickly, “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I know that, and I will. I’m keeping Nina and I together, and I don’t care what I have to give up for it. But … I guess Tim and Alexis breaking up has been,” I tried to think of the right sounding word and failed, “Like, sort of humbling? In the sense that you get hit in the face with the fact the people around you aren’t invisible, and neither are you.”

“Is that why you …” Gemma shook her head and then fell silent, “Don’t worry.”

“Is that why I what?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her slightly and trying to read where she might be headed.

She cast her eyes down and pulled at the rings on her finger, “Did you see the article on the Juice website about how your proposal was—

—That article was a load of horse-shit that got taken down,” I returned angrily, “Don’t think so lowly of me.”

“I don’t!” She defended, “And I love Nina, you know I do, H. But what I’m saying is that it looks—

—It doesn’t matter what it looks like, Gem,” I hissed, looking around to make sure no one else had cottoned on to our heated exchange. Only our Mum was watching us uneasily, “It only matters how it is, and as someone who knows how it is I can’t believe you’d even try to have this conversation. Or that you’d consider something written on a fucking gossip rag before what you know of your own brother.”

I stood up and went to leave her.

“Harry!”

I turned back around briefly to tell her just one more thing, “Next time keep what you read in your free time to yourself, Gemma. I proposed to Nina because I want to marry her. And you already knew that, so stop reading shit that’ll rot your brain.”

I let out a long breath of frustration, trying to shake the bubbling feeling that came from arguing with my sister. Nina didn’t see me coming, and kept talking to Laykn next to her even when I picked up her hand and started pulling her to her feet.

“Hey!” She yelped, breaking eye contact with her brother and pushing her other hand against my chest, “I was talking, Harry, don’t be rude.”

“You can keep talking,” I mumbled, switching our spots and taking the seat that she had been in, “C’mon,” I coaxed, now gently leading her to sit on my lap, “You won’t even notice I’m here.”

They settled back into their conversation and Nina relaxed in my arms as I wound them around her middle, settling my cheek against her back and looking at my Mum.

“Gemma’s got a guilty look on her face, H,” She whispered my way, concern on her features as she reached out to push my hair out of my face.

I briefly looked across to see my sister looking at her lap, not engaged in conversation with anyone.

“Yeah,” I said carefully, “Well, she deserves it right now, Mum.”

“Harry,” She scolded me lightly.

“She does, Mum,” I insisted, leaning closer to urge out the next words, “She knows better than to pay attention to anything the paper’s are saying about me. And I’d give her a lot more than a guilty look if Nina ever caught wind of it from her, I tell you what.”

Mum was frowning at me harshly, her eyes wide in disbelief, “What did she say?”

I shook my head, “I’m awarding her the courtesy of not taking it any further and moving on from what she implied, if it comes up again though …” I let out another sigh, “It won’t come up again.”

******

Over the years, I found myself developing unique and invaluable relationships with each member of Nina’s family. And my relationship with her mother was similar to that which I shared with my own, there was the playful exterior with a startling ability to get soul-crushingly honest, very quickly.

Today though, in this moment, it was merely fun that glimmered in her eyes beside me, “You should’ve assigned the rooms.”

I scratched at the back of my aching neck, Nina sleeping on my shoulder had me sitting in a funny position the whole flight over, “Yeah, someone’s going to end up concussed from the sound of it.”

Nina, Gemma and Laykn were thundering around our chalet for the week, yelling out and bickering over who would sleep where and what the best features of the place were. It was an impressive house; five bedrooms, four bathrooms, three living areas, a huge kitchen, an indoor pool and fully stocked library. Online Nina and I had gushed over the wooden finishes and beautiful furnishings and in real life I found myself even more impressed.

“This is quite the house,” Mae breathed out and when I looked down at her there was a weariness mixed with her appreciation. I didn’t know what to make of it.

For a second I wondered if this was all a bit much, but I was steadfast in the belief that this was a good idea. A family holiday was exactly what I wanted before I left again, this was the foundation I wanted for tour and these were the people I wanted to make the most of for these last few days.

Just as I was about to try and express something of that sentiment to Nina’s mother, Nina herself appeared at the top of the stairs. Her hair was handing down around her face as she leant over the banister around the platform above the main, downstairs living area.

“Harry! I got us the room with the big windows! The one we liked on the website? Laykn was up there but I won the rock off.”

Her happiness made me laugh, and I felt Mae’s hand on my back in gentle encouragement to go with her daughter, “Go team! What’s the balcony view like?”

Nina held out her hand down the stairs toward me, “Come see.”

We passed Nina’s dad in the master bedroom, and Gemma and Laykn in another arguing their way around who would have it but Nina’s hand in mine was steady and firm, pulling me where she was going without a falter in her step.

I’ll happily follow this woman the rest of my life.

“Oh,” I nodded as soon as we climbed the stairs into our room, “Yeah, this is ace, isn’t it?”

“Feel how comfy the bed is,” Nina encouraged, letting go of my hand and instead wrapping her fingers around my hips to lead me in the right direction.

I flopped down, face first, on the mattress and let out a groan when the tight muscles in my back all started to loosen up painfully, “Fuck, this is good.”

I felt the bed dip down as Nina climbed up on it as well, her knees pressed into my side and I felt her fingers at the base of my neck, massaging slowly, “Sorry I slept on you the whole flight. Will I leave you to nap until dinner?”

“No,” I moved and rolled onto my side, “If I sleep now the jet lag will be even more funky. I think just a shower and fresh clothes will be good. Then we should go into town and find somewhere to eat.”

“I thought we were going to get a big grocery delivery and have those ‘family cooking sessions’ you love so much,” Nina laughed musically above me

I scoffed playfully and waved her idea away with a lazy hand through the air between us, “Nobody cooks on the first night, silly. I want to eat a moose tonight.”

Nina held my gaze skeptically, working hard to keep her lips tight while I wriggled my eyebrows at her, “You’re not funny,” She deadpanned eventually.

“Because everything in Canada has a picture of a moose on it?” I continued with the same lame joke.

“Yes, I know,” Nina wasn’t doing well at pretending she didn’t find me endearing.

“Just getting into that Canadian spirit!” I said overly cheerfully.

“I’m sure it’s all the locals do, Harry, all day.”

Eventually Nina and I untangled ourselves from each other after I tackled her into the bed just to get her laughing. I showered and found her curled into a corner spot on the downstairs sofa, surrounded by everyone else. Laykn let out a loud cry of support when I suggested we all venture out for a meal together.

And it was that first night spent eating, drinking wine and laughing together that formed the precedent for our week together.

A week of lazy, slow mornings followed by snow walks, afternoon naps and evenings cooking meals together. Nina and I had our moments alone out in the spa or going for strolls after dinner when everyone else was comatose from eating. Our parents went on antiquing day trips to near by towns, stopping more than necessary for coffee and cake breaks. Laykn spent his days going to the nearest slopes, usually taking one of us with him; a few days he managed to get Nina, Gemma and myself to go along although we were more of a hinderance for not being particularly winter sports savvy. Other times Nina and Gemma would disappear with our mother’s to explore the local shops and I’d find myself drinking beers with Laykn and Nina’s dad at the house.

Always though, there was everyone around the dinner table together at night, talking back and forth between everyone’s lives. There was the renovations my mum was doing on her house house, or Nina’s parent’s trip they were planning to Asia, Laykn’s study, Gemma’s boyfriend, Nina’s work, and my music.  

It was a safe place to talk about it all, even the emerging record burning a hole in my mind. Because all the times it came up, or one of them would ask to hear a little bit of it, I knew the reaction was always loving, always supportive (for the right reasons) and always proud. Even if I didn’t know when or how it could work, to have the unwavering support of these people.

*******

“Harry?”

I let my eyes flick from my phone screen to Nina beside me in bed, the brightness of the screen and darkness of the room having me squinting to make out her features, “What’s up?”

“Your work phone is buzzing.”

It was then that the vibrating against the wooden bedside table registered to me, “Oh.”

I pulled myself up into a sitting position, dragging some of the duvet off Nina’s chest which had her sluggishly sitting up as well. She leaned over and turned on the lamp but I’d managed to fumble the ringing phone into my hand. I was quick to swipe to answer and extract myself out of bed to take the call, a heavy panic rising to my throat as soon as I saw what number was calling.

“Sorry,” I mouthed back at a confused looking Nina as I yanked open the balcony door and slipped out into the cold. “Hello?” I said down the phone.

“Harry, mate, I know you’re on holiday with your family right now. And I hate doing this to you—

“—What’s happened?” I demanded quickly, bracing a hand again the frozen railing and trying not to think of the last time I got a call like this.

“We think it’s happened again, mate.”

[luxekook]

the mirror | vmin

⇥ pairing: demon!jimin x reader x demon!taehyung

⇥ genre: smut, fluff, slight horror/thriller (?)

⇥ summary: demon!vmin want to make the reader theirs

⇥ word count: 2.4k

⇥ warnings: nc17, cursing, dirty talk, varying levels of smut, talk of demons and possession, general crack!fic

MAJOR DISCLAIMER: This is based on an actual dream I had and pretty much defies all logic. Lol, happy (early) Halloween!

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

My new apartment currently resembled the aftermath of a B and E. Moving boxes were strewn everywhere, various pieces of Ikea furniture were left half assembled, and I was panicking. Asking for help had never been an issue for me before – I wasn’t much of a prideful person.

However, asking for help from my best friends Taehyung and Jimin had been harder than forcing myself to go to the gym. My reluctance to ask them over wasn’t that I didn’t like them. In fact, I had the opposite problem.

I loved them, and those feelings were so fucking confusing.

It wasn’t that I was too much of a little bitch to tell either of them how I felt; it was that I was too much of a little bitch to tell them both how I felt.

I loved Jimin. And I loved Taehyung. Equally.

You don’t even know how many hours I spent scouring the internet for any semblance of an explanation for how I felt.

Basically, I came to a couple conclusions:

1) I was into polyamory:

Polyamory is the practice of, or desire for, intimate relationships with more than one partner, with the consent of all partners involved. It has been described as "consensual, ethical, and responsible non-monogamy".

2) Some pretty badass women like Olive Byrne were polyamorous:

Olive Byrne was a polyamorous life partner of William and Elizabeth Marston and has been credited as an inspiration for Wonder Woman.

And now I was at an impasse – tell the boys and potentially ruin our friendship or never take the chance and stay firmly in the friend-zone.

Basically, I had chosen to do neither and avoid them for the past couple weeks like a fucking coward instead.

The doorbell sounded and shook me from my mini pity party. Time to face the music, I thought as I plastered a forced smile on my face. I opened the door and immediately was pulled into a hug by Jimin.

He spun me around, squeezing me tightly, “I missed you so fucking much, (y/n)!” My forced smile turned real as I felt his warmth around me.

“Stop hogging her, Jimin,” Taehyung said derisively as he stretched his arms out to me.

I wiggled out of Jimin’s hold and into Taehyung’s arms. He smelled like autumn – a heady mix of wood, spice and musk.

I noticed Jimin pouting over Taehyung’s shoulder and I couldn’t help but grin.

Reluctantly extracting myself from Taehyung’s hold, I was still smiling, “Thanks for coming over to help me. I’ve barely made a dent unpacking.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Jimin threw an arm around my shoulders – crushing both my neck and my feelings – while he and Taehyung shared a furtive glance, “Besides, we haven’t seen you for ages.”

“Right,” I mumbled and tried to shake it off the friend-zone comment, “Okay, well I think it’s best we start with the bedroom because I cannot sleep on an air mattress for a fourth night.”

A pregnant pause crackling with tension arose. My eyes darted between the boys who seemed to be having one of their infuriatingly cryptic telepathic conversations.

“You’ve been sleeping on an air mattress this whole time?”

Uh-oh. I knew Taehyung’s angry voice and he just used it.

“Yes…” I backed up as I noticed the boys had suddenly moved all up in my space.

“And you didn’t tell us because…”

Yup, there was Jimin’s angry voice. I was screwed. “Because I didn’t think it was a big deal?” I responded, confused as to why they were making such a fuss over a damn air mattress.

“Not a big deal,” Taehyung hissed and stalked off towards my bedroom, “I can’t do it, Jimin. Talk to her.”

I stared open-mouthed at Taehyung’s back as he exited the living room and made his way towards my room at the end of the hall. What the hell was going on here?

“What the hell is going on here?”

Jimin ignored my perfectly valid question, “You don’t think your health is a big deal? You shouldn’t be sleeping on an air mattress when there are perfectly good beds at me and Tae’s.”

“My health? It’s a fricking air mattress, not a pile of sticks, Jimin! Last time I checked, air mattresses were made for sleeping!”

He continued to ignore me, “You need to take care of yourself, (y/n).”

“You’re not my fucking father or boyfriend, Jimin. I don’t need a lecture.”

“Believe me, I know,” Jimin said darkly and turned away from me, heading in the direction Taehyung disappeared to. And I swore I heard him mutter, “Fuck a lecture, she needs a spanking.”

I stay rooted in my place against the wall and wondered what the actual fuck just happened.

Taehyung calling my name jolted me out of my reverie, “(y/n)? What’s this?”

“What’s what?” I asked, heading towards my room to see what he was asking about.

Oh god, what if he found my unopened stash of condoms?

My speed increased tenfold as I practically ran down the hall. Entering my room, I saw Taehyung staring down at a weird-looking mirror I hadn’t seen before.

“Where did you find that?” I question as Taehyung continues to look down at the mirror as if in a trance.

“Bro? You good?” Jimin asked as we exchanged a concerned look.

Taehyung slowly lifted his head up – his eyes closed; his mouth twisted into a smirk. “Never better,” his answering voice sent shivers down my spine. I opened my mouth to question his suddenly deepened tone when Taehyung opened his eyes.

Gone were the hazel eyes I loved so much and gone were any traces of light or reflection.

There was only darkness.

“Taehyung, what the fuck?” Jimin yelled and pulled me behind him.

“What?” Taehyung cocked his head slowly to the side, “What’s wrong?”

I gaped at Taehyung, “Your eyes…”

“…They’re black,” Jimin finished for me.

Tae’s answering grin was almost as alarming as his fucking black eyes as he peered into the strange mirror again, “Well, what do you know… they are.”

“Why aren’t you freaking the fuck out, Tae?” Jimin continued to shout at him as he moved to grab the mirror from him, “What the fuck is this shit?”

“Here,” Taehyung thrusted the mirror at Jimin, “Look.”

Jimin snatched the mirror from Taehyung and inspected the back of it. I looked over his shoulder, noticing the symbols etched upon its surface. They looked familiar.

Where had I seen them before?

As I wracked my brain, Jimin adjusted his grip on the mirror and its handle came into view. I was staring, completely horrified at its marking of an upside-down cross, when Jimin flipped over the mirror.

“No, don’t—!” My scared protest sounded too late, as I watched in terror as Jimin gazed into the mirror just like Taehyung had minutes before.

“Fucking dumbass,” I groaned. Clearly, the mirror had some kind of curse and Jimin had walked right into it.

Taehyung chuckled amusedly at my obvious distress and turned to his friend, “Feel that power, Jimin?”

Jimin glanced up at Taehyung with now-matching black eyes and leisurely rolled his neck, cracking it, “Oh, fuck yeah.”

My ‘fuck this shit’ meter hit level one million as both boys turned their heads to face me.

“Uh,” I backed up, “I’m gonna go… Feel free to show yourselves out.”

“Now, wait just a second, columba,” the foreign word flowed unnaturally easily from Jimin’s mouth.

Speaking yet another language? That was a big no from me, dog.

I took off.

“Come on, (y/n), don’t run from us,” Taehyung taunted as I ran out my door at full speed. Racing down the stairs and across the apartment lobby, I rushed outside. I could hear them calling my name behind me, “Columba, you know we’ll find you.”

Jimin’s teasing voice urged me to run faster. I knew they had to be fucking with me at this point. They worked out on the daily while I only worked out when hustling to meet my Postmates at the door.

I weaved between pedestrians and made the split-second decision to duck inside the local art museum.

Pushing through the doors, I quickly pivoted to the exhibit on the left – the sculpture hall. I careened to a halt behind a massive sculpture of Galileo and fought to catch my breath.

Had I actually lost them?

A spark of hope bloomed in my chest.

And subsequently died when I heard a whistled tune echoing from the exhibit entrance. Were they seriously harmonizing their whistles to “Jopping”?

Maybe they weren’t completely evil?

“Found you, columba,” Taehyung whispered in my ear – entirely too close for me. I opened my mouth to scream, but his palm covered my mouth, “Shh, this is an art museum, (y/n). It requires you to be quiet. And so do I.”

My eyebrows knitted together as I glared defiantly into his blackened eyes. 

Fuck that noise. 

Cursed or not, I didn’t take orders from assholes.

Taehyung noticed my thunderous expression and smiled hugely, “We love how feisty you are, columba. We want you to be our third.”

He looked at me expectantly. I rolled my eyes at his idiocy and stared at him pointedly.

“Oh,” Taehyung grinned sheepishly, removing his hand, “My bad.”

“Your bad,” I seethed, “Your fucking bad? Who the hell do you think you are?” 

He opened his mouth to respond but I plowed ahead, “That was a rhetorical question, you buffoon. Now listen up: I don’t know what exactly is going on here, but I do know that I’m not vibing with the whole cursed black eyes and new language thing.”

“Ah, Tae, you found her,” Jimin chose the absolute wrong time to interrupt. As I level my glare towards him, he actually flinched back.

“Great,” I laugh, “You’re both here. Now can one of you press your last two working braincells together and give me an explanation?”

“We want you as our third,” Jimin said, as if that explained it all.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I don’t speak demon.”

The boys snickered. “Yeah, the mirror chose wisely,” Taehyung told Jimin.

“Hello?” I waved my hand in between their faces, “I’m right here, boys.”

They turned to face me together. “We know,” Jimin said, prowling towards me.

“Yes,” Taehyung agreed, cornering me in from the other side, “We definitely know.”

“To be our third means that you’d complete our triad,” Jimin trailed his hand down my cheek, “Me, you, and Taehyung.”

“We know how you feel about us, columba,” Taehyung murmured from my other side as my back pressed further into the foot of the sculpture behind us.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I entered full deflective mode, “We’re friends – at least we were. Jury’s out right now.”

“Friends don’t want to fuck each other, (y/n).”

I choked on air at Jimin’s comment.

“You really should clear your search history,” Taehyung whispered into my neck, before giving it a nip.

I felt the blood drain from my face, “Search history?”

“’What is polyamory?’” Jimin ticked off a finger.

Okay, I could explain that search as innocent curiosity.

“’How to approach a polyamorous relationship’,” Taehyung continued and held up a second finger.

Again, I could probably play the innocence card.

“And, my personal favorite, ‘Is it wrong to fuck two friends at the same time?’” Jimin victoriously waves three fingers in the air.

Fuck. I forgot about that one.

I wracked my brain for excuses and came up with nothing. My shoulders slumped, “What do you want me to say? That I love both of you? That it’s embarrassing to admit? That I’ve been terrified to tell you? Take your pick!”

The boys looked at each other briefly and then back at me. “We’ve loved you since the day we met,” Jimin leaned in to kiss my cheek.

Taehyung pressed his mouth to my other cheek, and I could feel his lips moving against it as he added, “It’s true. We’ve been wanting to share you in every way since then.”

I was speechless – both from their proximity and their words.

“Look at her, Jimin. She’s gone quiet. Columba… Our little dove…” Taehyung trailed off, moving his mouth over mine and kissing me.

My body felt like it was on fire. My lips parted in a gasp and Taehyung took advantage, his tongue sliding across my own with a such a sensual slowness that my back arched against the statue’s pedestal behind me.

His hands travelled down the sides of my neck and stay there, gripping my throat lightly in his fingers as he works his tongue against mine.

“Be our third,” Jimin’s whisper sounded from my left, but I couldn’t process anything with Taehyung’s hand on my neck and tongue in my mouth.

Suddenly, Taehyung’s pushed off of me and Jimin slid into his place. “Say yes,” he continued and pressed his lips to mine.

His kiss is completely different than Taehyung’s, fervent but precise. He kisses me like he had been doing so all his life and knew every inch of my body.

Then I felt Taehyung push me off of the statue that I had been using as a crutch and slide into its place behind me. His hands gripped my hips and pulled me back against him, kissing my neck as Jimin continued to dominate my mouth.

“Say yes,” Taehyung echoed Jimin’s earlier plea.

Jimin removed his mouth from mine and smirked at my immediate sound of disappointment.

“Is that a yes, (y/n)?” he asks, raising a brow, his black eyes boring into mine.

I couldn’t speak. Taehyung’s thumbs were tracing patterns on my hips. Jimin trailed a hand up my torso to lightly land on my throat, finding my pulse-point.

This was too much.

On one hand, I knew they were still the boys, deep down. On the other, I had no fucking idea what that mirror had done to them.

But, fuck it – they were still my boys.

“It's a yes,” I said and reveled in Jimin’s beaming grin.

“We’re going to make you so happy you said yes,” came Taehyung’s voice behind me.

“Now, just one more thing,” Jimin reached for something behind his back.

Before I could even comprehend, he had the mirror in front of me. Taehyung’s hands framed my head, forcing it still.

Did Jimin have that thing this whole time? What the fuck?

My eyes were glued to my reflection in the mirror – it was smiling.

I was not.

And then I watched as my eyes turned black.

columba – (Latin) dove