#I can only do things when I have hard deadlines!!! and there are none!! bc nothing is being started!!! like

[sakhafa]

upsetti from my meeting w my supervisor 😞

[shatterthefragments]

I SWEAR TO FUCK IF HE DOESNT FUCKING RESPOND THOUGH

[lovelyisadora]

still can’t do my papers and can’t even do the bare minimum to get two more incompletes 🙃🙃🙃 I mean I don’t have a choice I’ll have to but oh my god what has happened to me

[theoceansluvr]

Study Date Headcanons

warnings; none ! characters; percy jackson, jason grace, + leo valdez author's note; did i technically write a study date fic already ? yes. did i write it with my big 3 ? no !! also i wrote this during breaks on my AP psych assignments so it's a tad bit wonky.. T^T

PERCY JACKSON -

oh boy.. you guys rarely get any actual work done-

but it's very fun either way !

i feel like he has a self established award system so that for every problem he gets right, he gets a kiss..

which usually just ends in him asking super easy questions he already knows the answer to in order to get one.

"hey, the answer to #5 is y = 7.5 , right ?" "uhh.. yeah ? you've gone over that like five times-" "crazy ! i got the answer right though SOOO"

very ineffective method, but you still fall for it

in the scenario where you do get some work done, it's usually bc both of you procrastinated super hard

(we hate deadlines in his household !!)

anywho, lots of snacks too ! like blueberries, blue cookies his mom made, other various things to yer liking !

amazing with science for whatever reason ??? so go to him for help !!

i give him aaaaa 9.5/10 on the study date scale: only productive when necessary but worth it for the kisses !

JASON GRACE -

the most studious person on earth, literally has never missed a deadline !

except that one time but that's bc demigod stuff

has decent handwriting ??(he was raised by wolves okay :c) but enough that you can share notes with having to decipher anything

really good in english but simply bc latin influences on it

will study for like.. 3 hours straight without breaks so you have to grab him by the ear to relax and drink something other than cold coffee and flat red bull..

takes a crap ton of ap and honors classes it's unbelievable, so def the man to go to for anything !!

ermm classical music or pure silence, no in-between ! unless you play the music which is usually what happens

makes you tea/coffee before hand since it helps him focus so he just assumes it'll help you

not necessarily a study headcanon but if you share classes he ALWAYS partners up with you !

anyways, i got sidetracked 10/10 on the study date scale: very productive evening !

LEO VALDEZ -

MY BOYFRIEND EVER !!!

another ap and honors class taker so pls ask him for help in literally anything !

ESPECIALLY MATH 🗣️🗣️

probably takes like.. algebra 2 freshman year

anyways, not the most focused person but he gets his work done super fast despite that !

fast and correctly might i add, like it pisses teachers off when he talks on class and is like "oh i already finished !"

makes you dance with him during study breaks :3 doesn't matter how late it is or if yer in the library, yer dancing to whatever music is playing in the earbuds you guys are sharing

if he finishes his work early he either helps you or just.. stares at you longingly ?? very sappy

he also draws all over his notes so good luck trying to read them !

he gets an 12/10 on the study date scale: im bias + i hate math and would kill for this man to help me with it.. T^T

THIS WAS ACTUALLY SO FUN TO WRITE- might start doing more multiple character works tbh.. anyways !! hope you enjoyed loves🩷 also it was very tempting to put connor in here :(( kinda wish i did but i have work to do !!

[moonrver]

Ok I'm finally getting round to doing this!! Thanks for tagging me @tomsturbotwinks !!

1. Do you make your bed?

most days unless I'm in a huge rush

2. Favourite number?

Always had an affinity to the number 4 for some reason

3. What's your job?

My main job is kinda hard to explain but I work for like? A social housing company/community organisation? And do research into their historic buildings? And also do some marketing for them?

But I work from home and I hateeee working from home so I also work Sundays at my old job in a shoe shop which I actually really love bc I've got so many friends there and also something about it scratches an autism itch in my brain. I love using the till...

4. If you could go back to school, would you?

My dream life involves being able to travel round the world and attend classes in different universities on different aspects of the Humanities but without having to do any exams or work to deadlines. So yes I'd love to but I don't wanna do a PhD.....too much independent research, not enough funding.

5. Can you parallel park?

Not if I can help it

6. Do you think aliens are real?

Probably? It's not something I have strong opinions on but i think the universe is infinitely vast so there are probably others out there somewhere....

7. Can you drive a manual car?

That's what I learnt and did my test in but I haven't driven in 5 years and want an automatic when I do buy a car....too much leg cramps using the clutch

8. Guilty pleasure?

Well I was raised catholic and have had anxiety for as long as I can remember so I very rarely feel pleasure without some level of guilt.

But maybe trashy reality TV like love island, maybe a bit of eurotrash music, maybe the lengths I would go to for a dairy milk daim

9. Tattoos?

None! Don't really want them

10. Favourite colour?

Maybe sage green, maybe powder blue, maybe pale pink...

11. Favourite type of music?

Lmao I'm such a stereotype of myself, it's not dad rock it's more like... Ye Da's favourite bands from the 80s and 90s. British indie, new wave, Britpop. Stone Roses, Lightning Seeds, Pulp, Kate Bush, Alison Moyet, that sort of thing.

12. do you like puzzles?

I love quizzes and crosswords and stuff if that counts? And I love Only Connect which is a sort of puzzle?

13. Favourite childhood sport?

Omg when I tell you I prided myself on being the fastest runner in my year as a kid. And I always chose who to have a crush on based on who was the fastest boy. The Merseyside primary schools' athletics championship was my favourite day of the year

14. Do you talk to yourself?

Under my breath a lot yeah

15. Tea or coffee?

I probably prefer coffee but in the house I drink like, 10 cups of tea a day

16. First thing you wanted to be when you were growing up?

Lmao a ballerina? Which is so funny given I am so uncoordinated and ungraceful? After than an author bc I was a nerd

17. what movies do you adore?

PADDINGTON also Pride, Bridget Jones' Diary, Rocketman, About Time, recently Challengers, and bizarrely Us (the horror with Lupita Nyongo, strangely a comfort film that also still scares me to death)

I'm tagging @babynflames @sallycinnamons @pickleballhater @karlmarxverstappen @kellehim @thelatenightvibes @oceanmonsters @follivora (if you want to) and anyone else who I've probably forgotten who wants to!!

[thedreadvampy]

there's so much stuff I'm combustibly mad about at this moment. from Palestine to work to friendships to my ex's shitty partner. (mostly the first two tbf).

but today I channeled some anger into possibly my most airtight stress spreadsheet ever. people have been making unreasonable demands and not listening to me when I set them deadlines so this is my ultimatum spreadsheet, which:

live tracks the amount of manhours in my team available between now and project launch, then halves them bc We Have Other Jobs.

records the minimum amount of hours each thing we're asked to do is expected to take (non-crunching, so none of this 'if I really push I can do this in 5 hours instead of 30' baseline) and subtracts that from the hours remaining

goes gently red if the amount of remaining unassigned hours goes under 8 per person; goes AGGRESSIVELY RED if anyone's spare hours drop below 4. notes say if anyone's hours are red we delete a job.

converts the scale of each job into a minimum lead time

works off the agreed 'needs to be ready to go' deadline to calculate when it needs to be ready to sign off (with adjustments for external lead times eg print)

From that, calculates a hard deadline for the other team to brief us beyond which, if we haven't had a brief, we assume we're not getting one and do it in whatever way works.

allows each job to be marked as 'done' or 'cancelled', which returns the hours to the remaining time allowance.

I agreed with all managers involved, in sight of senior management, that this is the line in the sand. If we have agreed on the final deadline, all those interim deadlines are final too - if it isn't briefed by the briefing deadline, it isn't briefed; if it isn't drafted by the drafting deadline, it's not getting drafted; if the hours allotted are more than the hours left till launch, we have to scrap something.

Nobody is allowed to change anything except to add jobs and move final deadlines further away (NOT closer). Me and my colleague whose time is being measured are also allowed to increase (but not decrease) the amount of time we think things will take. If anybody steps to me at this stage the only answer is "do you want this thing done or don't you? because I have already explained that this is what you have to do to make it happen."

I am NOT. spending my last month in this job taking the brunt of everyone else's failure to listen to me when I say "we need to do this stuff with a month or more of lead time". I am not going to keep being held responsible because other people think they can still pull "we'll get around to it soon" when we're literally 14 working days from launch. if you want control do the work. If you don't have time to do the work, get out of the way.

my therapist is very proud.

[emi-nova-music]

—*♪,» WELCOME ONE AND ALL ——•°.

hiii! i’m a 19yo college kid making magic however i can! i’m non-binary (they/nova pronouns), queer, neurodivergent, and i adore my strangely specific process and unique set of influences that lead to some cool ass shit! when i’m not jamming, i’m drawing, designing characters, building websites, and playing games 🫶 don’t hesitate to reach out

my main blog is @emerystellar as a general hub for all my creative stuff, and my crazy tumblr hermit spam all goes on @andromeda-absurdity !

—*♪,» LINKS ——•°.

Spotify || Bandcamp || Youtube || Apple Music

music carrd !! — main website !!

—*♪,» GENRE/INFLUENCES ——•°.

i’m pretty broad and experimental so it’s hard to narrow myself down, but i’d say i fall somewhere between jangle pop, psychedelic rock, shoegaze, and indie jazz! some of my biggest influences are louie zong, mild high club, miracle musical, buried beds, vince guaraldi, toby fox, koji kondo, the avalanches, and temporex :]

for extra reference, here’s my giant playlist of all the music i listen to, and a really big list of weirdly specific genres i like! you can also ask me about influences/inspirations for certain songs, associations you make, Anything, i’d love to hear and conversate about it!

—*♪,» RIGHTS AND USAGE ——•°.

feel free to use my music in any personal projects, youtube videos, animations, character playlists, anything, as long as you do two things:

1. credit me however applicable (link to the song, my website/bandcamp, just listing the song title and artist name, etc)

2. show me what you made!! i absolutely ADORE interacting with the creative works others make and i wanna see what ways you use my creations!! 🩵

the only other thing of note is that if you want to remix/make a cover of my song, keep it non-monetary (i.e. keep it to soundcloud and/or youtube)!

addendum that i’m not great at transcription but if you need stems of any songs/sheet music/garageband soundfont titles, etc, i’ll do my very very best to provide!

i’m very very open to collabs, but i am extremely bad with deadlines “- forcing inspiration never really works for me, but if you’re okay with my weird process and want to hmu, please do so!!

—*♪,» GENERAL FAQ ——•°.

• i use garageband on my phone to write most of the time (sometimes bandlab or acoustic instruments, usually various pianos or organs)

• i use distrokid for platform distribution and i seriously recommend it it’s ridiculously easy and super cheap too

• my process is usually pretty linear, starting with a melodic idea and moving from start to finish with the song, then going back and buffing it out making it meatier and tweaking things as i see fit! then i’ll usually adjust the pitch/speed at the end simply bc the analog sound is a lot more pleasing garageband can get a little sterile after listening to it for so long :]

• writing a single song will usually take me anywhere from 2-6 hours depending on the complexity, spanning however many days (i have drafts that have been sitting in my phone for MONTHS bc i’ll often switch between them so none of them get too stale) -> however, some of my live songs work a little differently, seeing as a lot of them (especially on what never left the nebula) are actually almost completely improvised… you'll never guess which ones >:)

• i’ve been playing piano and singing since i was a toddler, but i started formally making music and being serious about it in 2017! i’ve come a long long long way, don’t look for my old soundcloud /hj

—*♪,» THANK YOU!!! ——•°.

if you’ve got any other curiosities or comments please don’t hesitate to send an ask!! i love when ppl engage with my music so please please by all means feel free to :] thank you so much for sticking around this long and have a stellar day!!!

[thisdreamplace]

hi dreamplace, it’s me. I wanted to tell you something that happened. for the past days, it’s been rough. but I remember you and your podcast, and I tell myself that everything will turn out right. last night, I got hit hard but there is light. a part of me just doesn’t feel like life is worth doing anything so I don’t do much of anything or I just hold myself from doing what I need to. this bit me in the ass last night LMAO. i find myself just laying down on my phone a lot because that’s the only time life feels good. I had a college assignment due. If I didn’t do it on time, I’d be dropped from the course. this meant that I’d lose some of my financial aid and I won’t have enough credits. so i told myself, whatever, I’ll lay down and watch this tarot reading (i needed the comfort) and I ended up falling asleep for too long. I missed the deadline. I woke up panicking and I cried. although I don’t care about college at all, I have to do well bc I have nothing else for me rn. so, I calmed myself down. I did not believe in my abilities at all. I still don’t believe now, but I told myself, “it’s going to be okay. stressing and crying won’t do me any good” so I was calm. I still doubted but I just made myself relax. I woke up this morning … the professor re-uploaded the assignment. so now I won’t be dropped. I’m not sure how to feel. I still don’t believe in myself tbh, but a part of me is like, maybe everything can be okay. I know it was such a small incident, but any type of relief I can get in life feels better than none. 🏆 It feels like a success but I hope I can get this success for things I genuinely want now. I guess what I learned from this is just remain calm. no amount of negativity I forced upon myself has ever helped an outcome. all I can do is maintain peace on the inside I guess. still confused on how to go about manifesting, but I know it’s okay :)

hello <3 i am sorry it took me a while to reply to this !

it was a lil magic moment to nudge you and remind you that everything is okay <3 everything always work out, no matter what. i feel like that is a basic given in life, the law just emphasizes it and puts so much pressure on us. but if u just relax.... you'll see the natural flow of life actually flows in your favor. (the tao of pooh !) i think that this experience was a hint on how to go about manifesting. because it's just not..... that deep. and it satisfies the ego when there's all these extensive posts and how-to's and etc etc because it feels like something we get to work out, and the ego wants to work. the ego wants to find problems and dwell in them and contemplate endless solutions to endless problems. but it really is that simple, just letting life flow. :)

i'm really glad that was such a nice lil moment for you <3

[blossom-hwa]

inspired by the ocean, shawna, and virginia woolf.

wc: 1.4k ~ sunwoo x gender neutral!reader ~ slice of life!au ~ triggers: none ~ the boyz masterlist ~ hongjoong (ateez) version (NOT PLAGIARIZED)

[ 7:14 pm: oceans burn in your eyes ] There’s a careful line on the beach, drawn by the ocean, that separates soft, shifting powder from an expanse of dark sand, wet from the waves. Sunwoo crosses that divide, mixing pale dust with damp earth, footprints marking his path in sand cool with the water of the previous high tide.

An orange sun sinks on the horizon, casting warm light over the ocean. Where blue and green used to reign supreme, the waters now burn purple and orange and red, reflecting the sky, and Sunwoo marvels at the change in color as he sits on the wet sand. Part of him knows he’ll have to wash his clothes after this, which won’t be fun, but with the sea breeze ruffling his hair and water pooling around his feet, Sunwoo can’t find it in himself to care.

Waves roll around his body, soaking his already damp shorts and a bit of his shirt as well. They tug him forward lightly, almost playfully, water pulling at the fabric of his pants as it swirls the sand and shells around his sitting figure. If the ocean so wanted, it could swallow Sunwoo whole, dragging him into the dark depths until he sank to the bottom, and if it did, honestly, in this moment, he might not even fight. A certain beauty lies in the dangers beneath the water’s surface, in the way its waves can crash and fight, and what could Sunwoo do but accept it if it came? Right now, though, the waves choose to lay that beauty aside in favor of a calmer sparkle, cheerfully splashing Sunwoo’s feet and soaking the hems of his clothes. It almost makes him smile.

Push and pull, thrust and tug. Sunwoo watches the movement of the waves, listens to the music of its rhythm. Some people paint. Others compose. Sunwoo only does the latter, but from his experience, try as he might, he could never capture nature’s raw beauty on canvas or in a melody – some things, he knows, are meant only to be experienced in person, firsthand. The beauty of creation doesn’t lie in copying the natural world. It lies in observation, inspiration, drawing on what the senses collect to make something different. Something new.

Sunwoo pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, temporarily blocking out the world. If he could just find that inspiration right now…

But no. He didn’t come to the water’s edge to make a track or paint a canvas. He didn’t come to stoke the flame that had already burned too bright. He came to escape if only for a moment, to lose himself in the gentle tug of the ocean waves.

It isn’t hard. Sunwoo brings his knees to his chest, feet digging into the sand as he wraps his arms around his legs, chin resting on top. His eyes close against the burning of the sun, against orange that lights the purple ocean aflame, but it’s okay because he can still see the image splashed across the backs of his eyelids, purple fire on sparkling water fueled by the setting sun behind. It makes him feel a little warmer even as the sea wind flutters by his skin, tugging gently at his clothes and hair.

The tug of the breeze, the tug of the sea. The salty wind is pleasant, to be sure, but Sunwoo leans into it less than he leans into the water pooling around his body. They’re different – air is fickle, ever shifting in one direction or the other and sometimes not blowing at all, but while the ocean may not be as dependable as the solid earth, it never ceases its swirls of push and pull, and Sunwoo likes it. Appreciates it. Might surrender himself to it, even, if only he didn’t have so much fire burning within.

Fire or water. Given the choice, Sunwoo would choose the former, always, even if it burned too bright and scorched him, because without the flame that burns in his heart and fuels his existence, he wouldn’t be alive. Someone like Jacob might choose water – his existence is steady and he knows the constant push and pull, knows when to smother and when to step back. Even more than that, he has the teasing playfulness of the little splashes that nip at Sunwoo’s feet. Sunwoo is different, though. He needs the flame, needs the fire, needs the orange sun burning in the distance – the waves are not enough to soothe him fully, after all.

But a fire cannot burn forever. Sometimes it must die down to glowing coals, to ashes that flutter away in the capricious wind. Sunwoo’s eyes stay shut, a fiery sun still painted across the black wall of his vision, but the waves hum and sing in his ears, caressing his skin and patiently dousing the long-burning flame in his heart, bit by bit, until all that remains are embers waiting to be stoked once more, sometime in the future, but not now. Not yet. Not when the ocean has yet to fully soothe the previous burn.

Give it time. Give it time. Sunwoo sighs, relaxation finally settling his shoulders, previously held tight to his ears. Give it time. Give it time.

The ocean will heal you.

Lost in the waves, Sunwoo doesn’t hear the footsteps behind him, the soft pitter patter of bare feet on the sand. Only when he opens his eyes does he even sense the presence for the first time. It’s familiar, familiar in a way that lifts the corners of his lips even when the waves themselves couldn’t manage.

Sunwoo gets the idea that you’ve been standing there a lot longer than he thinks, but somehow, you still know exactly when to speak. He can almost hear the smile in your voice.

“I thought you might be here.”

Sunwoo turns around then, and the sight, even more so than the burning waves, takes his breath away.

You stand not against the sun but in its rays, golden orange light bathing your eyes, your smile, the hand you extend to help him up. It casts a halo around your figure that Sunwoo wishes he could paint, if only he had the ability. He tries to memorize the vision, but even if he could remember every detail perfectly, Sunwoo knows it still wouldn’t be the perfect picture that he sees now, hand held out like an angel to bring him back to earth.

Your fingers wiggle teasingly, one eyebrow rising with the gesture. Sunwoo takes your hand, letting your fluttering fingers pull him up, steady and strong unlike the waves that push and pull, rhythmic but wavering, beautiful but unsure, nothing like the certainty of your hand wrapped around his.

Certainty was what Sunwoo wanted to escape – deadlines for new tracks, commissions for lyrics. The flame of determination had grown too large, scorching his heart, and in the moment, alone, he had no one to ease the burn besides the undulating waves at the beach’s edge.

Now, though, he has your hand, warm against skin cooled by the breeze and wet sand. Your touch doesn’t burn like the sun does, even as you glow in its setting rays – you are warm, yes, but warm in a way that stokes the glowing embers of the fire within, gently fanning the flames until they come alive once more, burning cheerfully with a subtle heat that Sunwoo can handle.

Sunwoo doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand. Your unruffled appearance tells him you weren’t worried, anyway – you knew just where to find him. So he only smiles, squeezing your hand in thanks after you tangle your fingers with his, warmth soaking into every crevice of his skin. “Ready to go home?” you ask.

It isn’t home, the little beachfront inn where you two have stayed for several nights already. Home in the physical sense is far away, back in the city. But Sunwoo doesn’t correct you, because he knows what you mean – that home for you is wherever he is, and home for him is wherever you are.

The ocean is an escape, a pleasant one that douses his fire when it grows too intense, soothing it with its rhythmic crash, the push and pull of its waves. But you are home, where the hearth lies, gentle flames tickling the embers and ashes of Sunwoo’s heart until it is ready to burn again.

Sunwoo’s smile widens as he nods. “Yeah,” he says, lost in the sparkle of your eyes. An ocean dances in them, flames leaping above the water, a mirror of the scene behind him – only more beautiful, because it’s you. “Let’s go home.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 hug for Sunwoo because he deserves all the hugs :D and then maybe punch him in the shoulder bc he’s a shit)

[littlenekosfan]

i vagued about that several times, but i wanted to make a post alone bc i never actually dove into it i believe? im not really familiar with the emotion of anger since im rather irrational unlike bazz who... is just so familiar with it, anger, frustration or even hatred, he’s is good at keeping it silent or express it with a smile to not loose it... too good actually... bazz had unfortunately a lot of experience which left him scarred, traumatized, and he’s not the type to express his pain via melancholia but rather anger and his actions shows it pretty well.. and the thing is, its not out of pettiness, his anger is pretty rational, i can even call it determination, not a healthy one, but still rational

as a kid, he lost everything, i mean, literally... his parents, his home, basically everything that attached him to that life, the only thing.. or well, person left was jugram, who was his only friend back then (and ever was somehow), when he witness his home being burned down, he didnt cry or felt heartbroken like a child would, he was devastated yes, but to him mourning or coping wouldnt fix his loss, he took the path of revenge, the debt to his pain can only be repaid by punishing the one to blame, yhwach

so he trained, he trained day and night for 5 long years, he didnt just throw himself on yhwach to avenge his past out of hatred bc bazz is good at managing it, but he cant let go.. this is what i meant by determination, he couldnt let go what yhwach took from him after a year a two, the time he made a new life with jugram, his pain wont close until that man dies by his hands. (and obviously, its not heathly) and while i think he’s rational to feel that hatred, he shouldnt have let him consume him this much bc this is what made him even more broken

in FRIEND 3, he desperately tries to get yhwach’s attention, bc this is it, this is the endgame for him to finally live free, but what happens instead? he not only wasnt able to kill him but this time he truly looses everything and by the SAME person, yet, bazz doesnt wanna kill yhwach anymore after that... bazz' revenge was wanting to kill yhwach bc he took his everything back then, he did it again even there, but that second time seemed to scar him even deeper, not bc he has grown up (so his feelings are more developed as a teenager unlike a kid) but bc his everything had more value... 

its jugram

you can tell, you can tell how one scarred more than the other, the day he lost his home, he was able to get up and say what he was going to do next, with determination and certainty, where here, in FRIEND3, we see his face in dismal but nothing after that bc it didnt get better, he got so hurt he didnt even try to convince jugram to come back, he was too broken for that... now he has nothing, not even a shoulder to lay on, just himself and an empty heart... with a small flame...

unlike his first loss, yhwach didnt take jugram’s life, he took him away from bazz, which explains why bazz didnt target yhwach, he thinks jugram left him rather than he was taken away/kidnapped, and that’s a big factor bc this is why bazz’ hatred is now aimed to jugram, he thinks he deliberately left him, for power or even to hurt him (bazz wont think of jugram’s feeling when he left him, he really believes he did it for selfish reasons)

so for 3 long lonely years, he wasnt thinking about joining back the army to be the strongest quincy like his kid self was dreaming about, he didnt join to become close to yhwach in order to kill him, he did it because of jugram... that hatred i mentionned earlier isnt toward jugram himself, its toward what he became, he doesnt like “that jugram”, he hates it so much he constantly wants to fight it but never with the intent to kill and you can tell by how he provokes him, and still listen to him by not pushing it

some would think his hatred toward him irrational or unfair, but its not, its totally rational he feels like that, he shouldnt feel like that if he wanted things to change ofc, but he cant step back and recognize his own mistake bc he doesnt think he made any.. HE was the one left behind, HE was the one who was supposed to be yhwach’s right hand bc HE was the one who lost everything... he was the protagonist of his own story and jugram kinda stole it... but i digress

what i wanted to say is, his hatred, that rage, he is capable to contain it and control it so well, he doesnt lash out in a violent way on jugram, he only provokes him... if he really hated jugram, to the point there is no love toward him anymore, it wouldnt be hard for him to break the rule and try to kill him even if it kills him.. i mean, what’s left for him to even be alive? literally nothing...

yhwach was easy to wish death on bc he has no attachment to him, at all, only pure hatred and revenge, where jugram, he still has that bond, that bond of a friend and even if jugram broke it, he cant help but still see him as a friend, he still loves him

and this is probably why it scarred him the most, in his whole life, he has never cared for someone as much as jugram... and now he sees that person whom he loved the most hurt him...., and i think that's why he wants to fight him, he wants to show/express his pain, prove jugram he's on the wrong path, not for jugram's good, for his own, since jugram is his everything.. that doesnt mean he doesnt care about ju and his wellbeing, he was still disappointed in what he became under yhwach's wing, he promised him THEY would be the greatest.. bazz didnt use jugram like yhwach would say, he wanted to be his partner more than anything

i know what you’re thinking, why did bazz said he would kill jugram in 630 "ill kill yhwach and you along" bazz didnt want to kill yhwach for the same reasons as when he was a kid aka burned his village down, in 630 he wanted to bc yhwach did the auswahlen again, he betrayed him.. so he wanted to kill jugram for the same reason, jugram kinda indirectly betrayed bazz with yhwach there bc he knews jugram knew about it,, and he’s now a lost cause to him.. this was kinda the "deadline" to trying to fix whats was between them, if not at the first war, if not in a 1000yrs, do you really think things would change after a second war? that loop wont end as long as one kills the other... and this is what happened, i dont think bazz had the intention to kill bc he hated jugram, but the pain is too much to bare, seeing the man you loved and cared, who felt the same toward you just ignore you over and over is... too much, maybe death was the only solution... i already talked about that, but if bazz was to win (which im pretty sure he knew he had very very low chances if not none) he would be horribly heartbroken...

i explained it before but, their fight was the best way to end their relationship in "good terms" and yknow how bazz said "things dont always turn out like you wanted them to" it just shows how bazz didnt want to result in that, in that fight, in everything that happened between them was nothing he wanted....

he truly loved ju, he just wanted his old jugram back and be the greatest together...

[spacedlexi]

hey! what's ur opinion on season 2? i saw you stream some of it but not for long bc i forgot my twitch password. fav characters? fav ending? any way you wished the story played out instead?

ok im gonna answer this in like a bulleted way to avoid rambling too much (THIS DID GET LONG THO...). i answered some of this during my stream so i'll be repeating myself a little bit from there. i’ll put it under a read more for everyones sanity

general opinion:

- i dont think its great (or even all that good) but ive played/watched much worse so *shrug* it couldve been worse. playing it with a group makes it way more bearable and even funny aha so i definitely had more fun streaming it than i did playing it on my own

- wouldve been better JUST by handling clem as the player character differently. it wouldnt have solved All of its problems but it wouldve been less...annoying.... clem needed to have more agency. she was always being ordered around by dumb adults who didnt seem to care for her safety. the adults needed to take more initiative and clem (as the PC) couldve just defied orders/interjected into convos/done her own thing. this wouldve 1) given the player more agency 2) wouldve been a contrast to everyone relying on lee in s1 (couldve had everyone telling clem to stay out of the way since shes just a kid) and 3) made the adults of the group seem less...useless...since they instead are just constantly relying on an 11 year old to do everything. like do more stuff like the "clem locked in a shed and escapes into the house to steal supplies to patch herself up" thing. even tho it was ridiculous that they locked her in a shed it still gave her agency and was an opportunity to rebel and prove her resiliency/smarts/ability against the poor decisions made by the adults around her who think they know whats best

fave characters:

-none lol

- ok im joking but like only half joking. i liked sarita!! if i had to pick a non-clem character (and thats what youre asking) itd be sarita. she had a strong will/didnt take shit and was also very sweet (and cute i think shes cute hehe especially with her little nose stud)

- my dislike for most of the cast really derives from weak writing and ties back into all these adults constantly relying on an 11 year old to do everything for them

- alvin was ok and i warmed up to rebecca after she stopped being mean to clem for no reason. luke was....Fine after the first episode or 2 but gets way too much credit from people for some reason. sarah was also fine she mainly suffered from weak writing. jane was ok at first but she progressively pissed me off...

- ttg has a problem with giving determinate characters really...Any development at all which is a shame but is unfortunately a byproduct of having a budget and a deadline. if you dont know if a character will be around or not, its not wise to spend time/resources on them when it can go towards characters you know Will be around. they handle this better in s4 by saving determinate routes for the final ep. a bit underwhelming to save it for the end but at least they used it to focus on determinant endings instead in s4. its hard so i try to cut game studios a little slack with that stuff. but unfortunately it made nick and sarah pretty underwhelming characters who lacked really any arc or relevancy at all...

favorite ending:

- wellington ending i GUESS??? ive chosen all of them at least once (except for clem alone ending just because i dont want her to have to be on her own with a newborn baby at 11 years old). honestly the choice at the end of s2 is a little difficult for me to make but usually comes down to the fact that jane risked ajs life to prove a point we already knew. which was that kenny was a man on the edge holding on by the universes thinnest thread. i cant trust jane to put clem first and by her flashback scene in s3 i was right not to trust her lol. i do love that aj tattoo clem gets from the jane route tho...ive literally chosen that ending Just for the tattoo before lol

- also the wellington ending keeps clem from hugging or kissing gabe SHDSHHSJ so that really seals the deal for me lmaooooooo youre too good for him bby

play out differently?:

- honestly not..really?? but thats mainly because i dont think or care enough about s2 to think up whole other plotlines...

- someone in the stream chat mentioned that s2 went through rewrites after some scripts/episodes got leaked or something which ALWAYS IS A BAD DECISION and makes me so so disappointed and frustrated. it always negatively impacts a story to put it through rewrites just to counter "spoilers". so i definitely think s2 suffered from that decision. the question is just how much did they rewrite? was s2 always weak or did it mainly suffer due to unnecessary rewrites? what a shame.

- the kenny/luke showdown wouldve had more of a natural buildup than the kenny/jane showdown did. and the arvo stuff was soooooo duuuumbbb and annoying. someone in chat made the point that it wouldve been more interesting if the group that attacks them was the 400 days crew looking for revenge from howes and i definitely agree!! wouldve given that group more relevancy instead of just seeing them as like little easter eggs....

- sarah also had a lot of wasted potential. im assuming they were trying to make some "shes how clem would be if lee never taught her to defend herself" point but i dont agree with it?? because clem was already protecting herself in her treehouse with that hammer before lee even found her. they just didnt know how to handle a character with anxiety very well and it shows. at least they do a better job with brody in s4 (i love brody 💕). they also try to pull another weird character foil "this is how clem would be if she was brainwashed" with minnie in s4 but i dont agree with that one either (clem would be the sophie who dies fighting in that scenario lets be honest with ourselves clem could never be brainwashed shes too smart and strong willed "you gave up minerva. i never will")(they needed to stop with the character foils because they even tried to pull it with FUCKING C A R VE R “we’re not so different” sir im 11)

OK I THINK thats all i have to say. im sure i made other points throughout the stream but yeah these are the ones that stand out to me enough to talk about here

[ddaenggtan]

hearts on fire | jhs

Hoseok has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and he’s beyond excited to see you married and glowing.

He just really wishes that he was the groom.

pairing | jhs x reader, knj x reader

word count | 6.5k | cross posted to ao3

genre | angst, light fluff

warnings | angst, mentions of blood, mentions of vomit, lots of choking, lots of angst, this is open ended so like.......potential (?) mcd??, like this is very very very open ended yall there is no happy ending and there is zero satisfaction at the end, like it’s truly just here to hurt you

a/n | part of Outro: Tear, The Angst Now Told, and you should really read all of those fics bc they hurt so good but they’re sO WORTH IT, and i’m shouting out to @personawife​ not only for betaing this, but also for putting the Outro Tear Angst Collab together, because it’s been so fun!!!!! and yet so painful!!!! in so many good ways!!!!!!! this was honestly really fun to write, mostly because it’s rare that i write angst - unhappy ending angst, at that - so it was nice to stretch my creative muscles. 

also go stream ego bc its wonderful and i love it

It starts, as most things do, with a kiss. 

It was innocent enough - just a soft peck on his cheek and a sunflower in his hand while he cried about another student kicking him in the shin. To this day he can’t be sure what it was that did it for him. Maybe it was the way the sunlight lit up the barrettes in your hair and made them glint like stars. Maybe it was the way you hadn’t hesitated to smooch him on the cheek and give him the flower you’d picked out of a vase just to cheer him up. Maybe it was the fact that it had worked when nothing else had. Maybe it was none of that, instead something bigger altogether and more complicated than he could ever understand. 

Or maybe it was all of it. A simple act that led to a simple reaction - him taking your hand and making you smile with some face he made - that led to this moment. 

Either way, Hoseok decides as he watches you walk down the aisle in the off-white dress with the golden sash that perfectly matches the sunflowers in your hands, he doesn’t care. Because it all led to this moment. 

[then]

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late!” You call over your shoulder. Hoseok laughs, wrapping his hand around your wrist to slow you down from your sprint. 

“We are not going to be late,” He tells you firmly. Your lips form a pout that he wishes he could kiss away, but he resists the urge. Instead, he grins and pulls you into a warm hug. “It’s not like they’re going to start our graduation without us, Starshine. It would be a little conspicuous, don’t you think?”

“Ooh, conspicuous, big word! All that studying paid off, I see.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes; he doesn’t mention that he’s been studying his ass off ever since you started crushing on one of the bookworms in the school. He refuses to acknowledge to himself that he did it in the futile hope that it would make you notice him. 

“Hey, it was worth it! Got me into that fancy university, didn’t it?” He wags his brows and lets go of you, and he does his best not to let his arms linger around your waist for longer than they need to be there. 

“Yeah, that fancy university that’s a million miles away from here,” You complain. His smile falters a little, and he covers it with a dramatic gasp. 

“What’s this? Is my little starshine going to miss me?” He doesn’t tell you about the packet laying on his desk at home, about the scholarships he’s scoured the internet to find, about the decision he has yet to make, despite the looming deadline. He doesn’t mention the sunflower pressed between the pages of a book that sits beside his bed, so he can stare at it each night as he wonders whether it’s stupid to take the harder road just for love.

“You know I will, Hobi,” You tell him. You curl into his side, lacing your fingers with his. “You’re my best friend in the whole world. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. Who’s going to make me study when I don’t want to? Or convince me that getting pancakes at two in the morning is a proper breakfast?”

Hoseok shakes his head. He knows exactly what will happen when you head off to school in a few months. You’ll meet so many new people, make boatloads of friends, create new memories and new jokes and new references, and he’ll be standing off to the side, waiting to hear about all of it. 

He can’t wait to watch you flourish.

“Who’s going to help you stop stressing out about your choreography, or your routines?” You ask. Your voice dips into a whisper, and it’s the most scared he’s ever heard you. “Who’s going to be there when I need someone?” 

He knows what you mean; he knows all about the anxiety that wracks your body every so often, the way your brain spirals and panics and can’t seem to bring itself down out of red alert. He remembers - in vivid detail - all the nights he’s climbed through your window to help you breathe in that rhythm your school counselor taught you, or just talked at you through the phone about some new song or dancer he found until he eventually heard your soft laugh.

He remembers the nights you called and called and called and eventually just sought him out, not even bothering to knock as you barged into his room because his parents adore you and don’t care to let you in whenever. You’re like a second daughter to them, something his sister gives him no end of grief about. He’ll always remember the way your hands felt against his skin as you tugged him out of his room and into the kitchen to make some kind of monstrosity, just throwing anything and everything into a blender or skillet, only to wind up going out to the corner store to get noodles anyway. 

“I’ll be here,” He tells you. His voice is as soft and firm as his fingers as he brings your chin up to face him. He wants you to look at him, wants you to maybe see after all these years just how easy it would be for him to move the earth if you asked him to. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Your eyes search for something in his, and he wonders if you’ll finally realize. If he’s finally told you about every single pang of love that he’s ever felt without even needing words. 

You smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and playfully shove at his shoulder. “Not when you’re off at your fancy university a million miles away from mine.”

He covers the heartbreak with a deep sigh and slings his arm around your shoulders as you head into the building where your graduation is being held. He wonders what you’ll think of the sunflowers sitting on your chair, waiting for you to find them. 

Something tickles his throat, a hint of a cough not ready to be cleared, and he swallows it back. 

“About that…”

[then]

Asthma is what he tells you, months and months later while you both sit in your dorm room, curled under blankets. 

You’re preparing for your philosophy paper, pages and sheets and everything else strewn about your bed while he sits at your desk. The lamp is focused and bright as it shines on the metal and stone in his hands, glinting as he twists the wire this way and that. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying for your dance eval?” You ask him. He shoots you that half-smile, a quick glance so that he can finish wrapping the quartz in his palm. He hasn’t told you that he switched majors, that he’s now ‘undecided’ simply because he can’t keep up with the others anymore.

“Aren’t you supposed to telling me who made it their mission to disprove Kant’s entire career?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to,” You pout. He smiles, satisfied, at the stone in his hand; it’s wrapped in wire shaped to look like a tree. He never thought he’d be the jewelry-making kind, but thanks to a randomly-selected elective, he’s discovered he’s got a knack for it. 

Besides, he enjoys seeing the collection on your windowsill grow with each new thing he can make you. 

He extends the quartz to you -  a polished golden one that complements the tarnished brass he’d used to wrap it, the same colors as the flowers you love so much - and the way you light up as you take it makes his heart clench painfully. 

Something tickles his throat, too familiar now, and he does what he can to swallow it down, but this one is stubborn. It forces its way up his windpipe, giving him no choice but to try to cough it up. 

You watch, worried, as he rushes to the sink in your room, bending as far over it as possible so that you won’t see as much. 

It’s small, when it falls. Small and unassuming and spit-slick, he can almost believe it just fell out of the vase of them nearby, and he hopes that’s what you’ll believe as well. 

“Hobi?” 

He hates how small your voice is, how worried you sound as you listen to the ragged pants of his breathing. So he wipes his mouth, checks in the mirror to make sure there’s no blood, and turns back to you with a wry smile. 

“I’m fine,” He says softly. His voice is still hoarse, and you don’t look convinced, but he continues before you can argue. “Just asthma.”

“Asthma? You don’t have asthma, Hoseok-”

“I do,” He says quickly. “Developed recently. Strained myself too hard, weakened my lungs, or something. I don’t remember what the doctor said exactly.”

“But...your dance, how can you-” You cut yourself off with a sharp breath, and he can’t bear to see the heartbreak in your eyes as the realization hits, so he stares down at the scuff in his sneakers instead. “That’s why you aren’t practicing right now. You had to drop out of the dance program?”

You sound like you’re on the verge of tears, so he plasters a smile on his face that’s more convincing than anything else he’s ever done. 

“It’s fine, Starshine. Not all dreams come true. Besides, there’s other things I can do.” 

“But your scholarship, Hobi, I-”

“Already figured out,” He says quickly. It isn’t, not nearly, because he can’t just call his parents to say ‘hey I lost my scholarship because I’m hopelessly in love but don’t have the guts to say anything about it’ and he hasn’t had time to go visit them, either. The corners of your mouth are turned down, and your lips are pressed together, and it’s obvious you’re upset, and it hurts more than the roots tangling in his lungs. 

He crosses the room and slides some of your papers to the side so that he can sit across from you. You’re still holding the quartz in your palm, fingers wrapped gently around it like you’re afraid it’ll break if you squeeze too tight, so he wraps his own hands around that one of yours. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You ask him. Your voice is small and hurt, and he hates that he made it that way, but he knows it’s better than what would come if he told you the truth. 

“Because I didn’t want you to worry,” He replies quietly. “You’ve got exams and studying and papers to worry about. I don’t need to add to that. Besides, you’d just try to help somehow, and you do that enough as it is.”

“How could I possibly be helping you with this, Hoseok?” The look you give him is familiar and humorless and fond and it makes his throat tickle so he looks away. Stares down at the feather-soft blanket in your lap instead. 

“Just by being here,” He tells you. “Distracting me from it. It’s not important, that’s all. I can do other things.”

“Like what? Dancing has always been your dream, and now-”

“Like,” Hoseok interrupts, sliding the quartz from your hand and placing it with the other things he’s made you on the windowsill, “Making things, like this. For you. For everyone.”

You’re quiet for a minute. Your eyes linger on the collection of stones he’s decorated for you, that he’s worked on so carefully to make them as beautiful as you deserve, and he wonders if you can tell. 

If you can see it in every careful twist of wire, in the way his hands are always so gentle against your own, in the way he can’t bear to look at you for longer than a few moments but can’t bear to be away from you in the same way. 

“Well,” You eventually say, blinking back what might be tears. “I suppose we’ll just have to find you a new dream, then, won’t we?”

Your smile is weak and watery and doesn’t reach your eyes, but it’s still a smile. So he returns it, and locks his pinky with yours, and vows to himself to make sure you never cry for him again. 

[then]

"What is that?"

Hoseok looks up from the book he's got propped against the table. He hasn't been paying much attention to the conversation, too engrossed in the metalworking book his glassblowing professor gave him while you studied for an upcoming test, so your words surprise him.

"What's what?" He asks, looking around the cafeteria as if he can magically spot whatever it is you're talking about.

" That ," you repeat, stabbing towards him with your pencil. It's reflex that brings his hand up to his chest, and it's realization that has him clutching the pendant tightly, praying you hadn't really seen it.

"Nothing," he says quickly, tucking it back under his shirt where it's supposed to be. "Just a practice thing."

"Why won't you show me?" You pout. "You always show me your practice work."

"Yeah, because you always take it," He quips back with a laugh. You don't even try to argue, because you both know it's true. The collection on your windowsill has grown immeasurably over the last two years, and it makes Hoseok's heart stutter every time he lets himself consider why you keep all of them. Especially when some are so terrible.

"Seriously, Hobi, can I see?"

He starts to say no, because if there's one piece he's ever made that could tell you about his feelings, it's this. He should say no, should insist this once that you can't see it, but before he can, his hands are pulling the chain over his head and setting the entire thing gently in your palm.

He watches your mouth fall open and your eyes grow wide and he wonders.

He wonders what you see among the curl of metal; if the fact that he would do anything for you is obvious in the way it twists and turns on itself, looping around and around. He wonders if you can see, hidden between letters, how just being near you gets him through every day and makes it all worth it. He wonders if you'll be able to tell, between the pressed yellow petals, just how his chest aches; if you've put the pieces together, after so long, now that you're holding his heart so openly in your palm.

"'Remedy,'" You read, and Hoseok's heart jumps into his throat, even when he knows you don't know about it. "And some tulip petals? It's so gorgeous, Hobi, but what does it mean?"

"They're sunflowers," He corrects, almost scandalized that you could confuse the two. The petals are shortened, of course, cut so that they'll fit into the pendant without obstructing the text in the back, but still. "And it doesn't mean anything. Just something I wrote once in high school."

Your eyes light up. "You mean that poem you never let me read?"

"It was a song, actually," He mutters, but your attention is back on the necklace, looking for any hints about the secrets he keeps. Something soft tickles the back of his throat when you glance up at him and smile, the light glinting just right along the stones and casting golden beams along your features.

You look more beautiful than he's ever seen, and his chest aches with more than just the flowers taking root there.

"This is really gorgeous, Hobi," You tell him as you watch the way the light reflects through the amber beads along the edge.

"Yeah," He whispers as he watches you, drinking in the way your eyes widen in awe and the soft smile on your lips. "It is, isn't it?"

He wishes that moment could last forever, that he could tuck it away into a pocket and pull it out whenever he needs it, but he can feel the flower starting to work its way up his throat and he doesn't know how to hide that from you.

The coughs start right as someone calls out your name and his, and he tucks his chin into his elbow in an effort to hide it. He doesn't bother to look yet, just waves a hand as someone sits beside you, and by the time he's got the handful of petals tucked safely away in his pocket, you're deep in conversation with Namjoon about one of the classes the two of you are taking.

[now]

Hoseok decides, looking at you now, that you are happier than ever. 

You've said your vows and you've cried several happy tears and you've kissed more times than he can count, but you're still radiant. It's the glow of contentment, the promise of more to come, all coalescing to shine like stars in your eyes. 

"May I, Starshine?" He asks, extending a hand and pulling you away from your current dance partner. Yoongi doesn't look too upset about it, just smiles knowingly at you both as your hand folds into Hoseok's. 

You move with him as if it's second nature, and Hoseok supposes that it is , at this point. As many times as he held you this way while teaching you the steps, as often as he led you through them before today, you should be able to move out of sheer muscle memory. 

"Have I told you yet that you're sparkling, Starshine?" He asks, smiling along with you when you laugh. 

"I think that you're confusing me and the ring again, Hobi." 

On cue, he looks down at it. He spent so long on it, years of dreaming of what it may look like and months of trial and error and practice runs before he got it right. It was worth it, though; the ring does sparkle, takes the glow of your skin and the joy in your smile and amplifies it. 

Crafted to look like a sunflower itself, the ring is easily the most expensive thing he's ever made. Each petal sparkles with the same yellow quartz of that stone he gave you so long ago, and set into the middle is one large chocolate diamond that he spent entirely too much money on because it was already cut exactly the way he needed it. He'll never forget the way you cried when you saw it the first time. 

Hoseok's eyes meet yours, and he frowns at the tears he sees there. 

"Hey, none of that, Starshine. It's a happy day, remember?" He stops moving in the middle of the dance floor, hands moving to wipe your tears before they can fall. 

"I just...I'm so happy Hobi." He grins at your words, resisting the urge to poke fun, because of course you're happy. You just got married. 

You look up at him again, eyes still watery and he pulls you into a tight hug. 

"I love you so much, Hobi," you mutter against his chest. His heart flutters in his chest as he resists the urge to press his lips to yours right where you stand. 

"Yeah," He whispers. "Yeah, I love you too, Starshine." 

Someone taps him on the shoulder and he releases you, relinquishing his grasp on you so you can dance with Namjoon. The pendant around your neck sits beautifully, shadowed on either side by the white of the cloth, and he thinks for just a moment, that maybe he made that pendant for you, after all. 

He's worn it for years, of course, but the smile on your face when he slid it around your neck was worth it. It was worth being asked if you could have it, not entirely joking, and it was worth every single time you would fiddle with it during movie marathons, and it was worth every single night he held it in his clutched palm as he sat over the sink and coughed up the yellow blooms that you've strung up all over the reception hall. 

very day that you bugged him about it, how you asked every day without fail if you could have it. He knew you were kidding - mostly - but the light in your eyes when he finally gave it to you before the wedding today is something he’ll remember for the rest of his life, no matter what the future holds for him. 

It ends, as most things do, with a conversation. 

It was innocent enough - just a phone ringing in its place on the worktable and his hands covered in clay while he struggled to hit the screen with his elbow. To this day he can’t be sure what it was that he missed, exactly. Maybe it was the way that you’d been calling him less and less in the middle of the night. Maybe it was the way you hadn’t noticed that he’d been spending too much time in the studio, pouring his soul into every shape he crafts and wire he twists while he chokes down petals. Maybe it was the classes the two of you shared and the projects you worked on together, that he assumed was friendly and not anything more. Maybe it was all of that, everything working in tandem in a way that he could never understand.

Or maybe it was none of it. Simple acts that led to simple reactions - being too busy for each other, not talking as often, coughing up sunflower petals - that all led to that moment. 

Either way, Hoseok decides as he watches the heart-shaped vase spin aimlessly on its wheel while you cry tears of joy through the phone because he finally - finally - asked you out, he can’t care.

[then]

Asthma? is what Jimin asks him, years later when they’re both locked in Hoseok’s newly renovated store, basically a hole in the wall that he saved and saved for with his online sales. Hoseok is curled over the workbench in the back, doing everything he can to catch the petals before Jimin can see them. 

When they eventually subside, long enough for him to gulp down some water and shove the red-tinted petals off to the side in a pile that’s been steadily growing for weeks now, Hoseok shoots Jimin a self-deprecating smile. 

He doesn’t even get a chance to lie to him. 

“How long?” Jimin asks him. There’s no softness to his tone; it’s all hard edges and naked truths, and for once, the exhaustion overtakes Hoseok. He’s so sick of lying. He’s so sick of carrying an inhaler he doesn’t need, of shoving sunflower petals into every nook and cranny he can find so that no one sees them, and he just wants someone to know. 

“Forever,” Hoseok answers simply. “As long as I can remember.”

“And you never said anything? Ever?”

Hoseok sighs, throat scratchy and raw, and he stares down at the ring he’s been fiddling with. “Would you?” He eventually says. 

When he looks at Jimin, the other man has a petal of his own in between two fingers and rubs it absently, distractedly, like it’s habit. When he looks up, Hoseok understands, and an understanding passes between them. 

Jimin goes back to the laptop perched in front of him while Hoseok continues to work on other orders, things less important than the ring burning a hole in his mind’s eye, begging to be made. 

He isn’t ready, he tells himself. He isn’t skilled enough yet. Maybe one day. 

“I’m getting the surgery,” Jimin says after a few hours of silence. Hoseok fumbles with the pliers in his hands, twists the wire the wrong way, and it all clatters to the tabletop. He doesn’t bother to catch it, either; he’s too busy staring at his best friend in shock. 

“Seriously?” He breathes. Jimin nods, and the air rushes out of Hoseok in the span of a heartbeat. 

Everyone knows about the surgery, just like everyone knows about hanahaki disease. It took years to develop and it’s the only known treatment, but there are always side effect. Always. Sometimes they’re minor, just losing your feelings of love for the person you have feelings for, or like the guy that just became allergic to the peonies that he had removed. 

But then there are the others. 

The people who lose the capacity to love altogether. The ones who never find anyone else, who never learn how to love another person, not like they loved the one that caused the flowers. Or the ones who just lose their emotions completely, and become essentially lifeless. Unable to feel love at all, or sadness, or grief, or joy, or excitement, or remorse, or anything. They just exist. 

“But...the side effects-”

“Aren’t guaranteed,” Jimin interrupts. “Plenty of people get the procedure every day and walk away fine.”

“Yeah and some of them turn into lifeless machines!” Hoseok counters. Jimin’s expression hasn’t changed. He looks steadfast, decided, and he’s barely looking away from whatever work he’s doing on the laptop, and it infuriates Hoseok. “You’re gonna sign away any hope that you have, any chance that you have, because it...because it hurts?”

“No,” Jimin says as he closes the laptop and slides it to the side. “Because I’m tired, Hobi. I’m so tired, all the time. I’m tired of keeping it a secret, and I’m tired of puking my guts every time I think about-” Jimin cuts himself off and closes his eyes, tight, as he swallows. 

When he opens them, Hoseok can see every emotion he’s ever had in Jimin’s eyes, and it makes his heart ache. 

“Aren’t you tired, Hobi?” 

Jimin’s voice is small, and weak, but it lingers in the air between them. It curls past Hoseok’s throat and then down to wrap around his chest, growing tighter and tighter with every breath. Neither of them break eye contact, and Hoseok wonders what Jimin sees in his face. 

“Yeah,” Hoseok eventually says. With that, the spell is broken, and he can breathe again, and he drags his eyes away from Jimin to look at the piece he’d been working on instead. “But I can’t just...stop, y’know? I’ve loved her for basically my entire life. I can't...I don’t even know who I am without that.”

Jimin’s quiet for a long moment, and Hoseok thinks maybe he’s not going to say anything. Maybe he got through to Jimin, maybe he won’t get that surgery. 

“Don’t you think that you should find out?”

[now]

Hoseok watches from across the room as Jimin spins you in a circle, both of you laughing brightly. 

Jimin’s suit matches your dress wonderfully; Hoseok doesn’t think anyone else could quite pull off the pattern on it quite like Jimin does in such an effortless way. He looks happier than Hoseok has ever seen him, more content, more at home in his own skin. 

He isn’t coughing, and he isn’t struggling, and everything worked out well for him. No more flowers in his lungs, no more lies to his friends, no more unrequited love left heavy in his heart. Just happiness and laughter and joy. Hoseok wonders if he’d be the same. 

His thumb rubs absently across the business card in his pocket. It’s been there since Jimin handed it to him, what feels like forever ago now. It’s worn, and faded, and torn, and old, but the doctor is still practicing, just got recognized by the World Health Organization for his work. There’s an appointment reminder dinging in Hoseok’s phone, and a business card in his pocket, and he still doesn’t know if he’s even going to go, because you look so beautiful. 

You’re surrounded by your flowers, and you’re glowing like the North Star, and he can’t keep his eyes off of you. 

“She’s gorgeous, right?”

Hoseok turns and smiles at Namjoon. The man looks just as good, decked out in the best suit money can buy, with crinkles in the corner of his eyes and a dimple in his cheek as he grins.

“Yeah, she is,” He says. Emotions clog in his throat when he looks back at you only to find you looking his way. There’s love in your eyes and a soft, private smile on your lips, and it makes his chest tighten. “She looks really happy.”

“She does,” Namjoon agrees. 

Across the room, you wiggle a finger, and the ring glints in the light. Hoseok stifles a laugh, and shakes his head. 

“I can’t dance anymore, so this is all on you, big guy,” He tells Namjoon. The other man looks more than happy to take him up on the offer, grinning sheepishly as he sets his drink down to make his way to you. 

You take Namjoon’s hand and pull him close as the music transitions into a slow dance. Namjoon presses his forehead against yours, and both your eyes close, and suddenly, Hoseok feels like he shouldn’t be watching. This feels private, intimate, in a way that he’s never been privy to.

His throat clenches and he can feel it in his throat. 

He nearly drops his drink, but he gets to a table just in time to put the cup down with shaky hands. He knew, he knew what would happen. He clenches his jaw and heads through the side door of the event space, barely chancing a glance behind him. You don’t seem to have noticed, thankfully, but Hoseok makes eye contact with Jimin. The younger boy taps his wrist, and Hoseok just heads outside. 

He doesn’t need Jimin to remind him that time is up. 

[then]

“You need what?”

Namjoon’s smile turns shy at Hoseok’s tone. Of all the things that Hoseok could have anticipated Namjoon would ask him for, of all the potential items that he’s been commissioned by the taller man, this was never something he expected.

Though maybe he should have.

“-you know her better than anyone, y’know, and no one can craft like you, Hobi-”

The nickname sounds wrong, suddenly; like poison on Namjoon’s lips, but Hoseok just plasters on his smile again, the one he saves for truly difficult customers who try his patience, and he prays Namjoon doesn’t recognize it. 

“No, I get it, yeah.”

“I just...it needs to be perfect. And you’re the only one that I trust to make it perfect.” Hoseok’s heart twinges in his chest, and he can feel the roots moving in his lungs. “I’ll pay you whatever you want, too, cost isn’t a factor, it just needs to be-”

“Perfect,” Hoseok finishes. Namjoon smiles again, sheepish, and nods. “It’s fine, I’ll make it. No charge.”

“Hobi, I can’t ask you to do that, not for free-”

“You didn’t,” Hoseok insists. “I’m offering. Consider it a...gift.” Namjoon’s smile is blinding, and he really must trust Hoseok with this, because he’s heading out just a few minutes after, already on the phone with you because the two of you are meeting for lunch. 

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. It makes sense. It’s been years. Isn’t that the usual time people start to expect this kind of thing? 

A voice in the back of his head, bitter and cruel, tells him that he should have charged Namjoon. Should have made him pay an exorbitant amount, enough to keep the shop running through the months of the slow season, enough to help heal the wound in Hoseok’s heart, but he brushes it off. It wouldn’t have felt right, charging for this. 

Not when he’s had the design sitting in his head since he wrapped that first stone with wire, since he first learned how to make this jewelry. Not when he’s had pages upon pages of designs drawn out for years, since before he even owned his own shop. 

That was never his to design, though, he reminds himself as he heads into the workshop. He had no right to that design. 

Just like he has no right to you. 

[then]

Later, weeks and weeks later, In the darkness of his apartment, Hoseok cries. 

Hoseok cries for all the things he’s never said, all the things he’ll never do, all of the things that you don’t know. He cries for the late nights together and the impromptu adventures and the panicked phone calls. He’s been so blind, he’s refused to see it, he knows. It’s all been waning, all put on the backburner in favor of him. 

He’s the one you call when air can’t make it to your lungs. He’s the one you pull from work in the dead of night to make him sleep. He’s the one that gets to wraps his arms around you while you watch the newest episode of whatever show you’re obsessed with lately. It’s all him, and it will never be Hoseok, no matter how hard he wishes, because he’s too late. 

He spent so long obsessed with maybe. Maybe you’ll love him back, maybe it’ll ruin the friendship, maybe you’ll realize. For years and years, he said maybe, and now it’s too late, because you’re going to be saying yes to another man’s question, and Hoseok will be left in the darkness, no longer able to look at the stars in your eyes because you’ll be looking at him. 

For the first time in his life, Hoseok hates. He hates you for not realizing that he loves you; he hates Namjoon for taking the chance and asking you out; he hates the flowers growing in his chest that are just further proof that he’s alone in his feelings. Mostly, though…

Mostly, Hoseok hates himself, he realizes as he crumples against the wall of his living room. He hates himself for not taking the risk that Namjoon did, for not putting it all out there so that you could give him whatever kind of closure would come. 

And it’s there, sitting on his floor, surrounded by the remains of too many projects that he spent too long on that you’ll now never see, that he first begins to consider it. Everyone knows about the surgery, everyone knows that you can get the flowers removed, but that it comes with a cost. He stares, past his tears, past the colorful crystal remnants at his feet, and he considers. 

There’s already a numbness spreading through his body; it follows the same path as the roots of the flowers in his lungs, it runs parallel to the petals and seeds, and it only serves to highlight the painful ache that his feelings have caused. He’s already becoming numb to it, so why not? He may lose the ability to love forever, yes, but he can still be your friend. He can still watch you marry another man, this time without the itch in his throat and the flowers in his bile. So why shouldn’t he?

His phone rings, and he already knows it’s you. Not by the specialized ringtone - the only custom one in his entire contact list - and not by the blinking light that’s sure to wake him up in the middle of the night. No, he knows it’s you, because he knows that there’s no way Namjoon could have resisted the temptation to ask you tonight. He’s pictured what you’d look like a hundred thousand times, knows exactly how bright your smile would be as you said yes, how soft the tears would feel as he wiped them away, he knows. 

And now you’re calling him, to tell him the great news, or maybe scold him for not giving you a heads up about it in the first place since he’s the one that made the ring. Either way, you’re on the other end of that ringing, ready to tell him about the happiest night of your life, and Hoseok can’t…

He can’t resist it. It’s autopilot as he drags himself to where his phone is still ringing, and it’s only after a deep and shaky breath that he answers it. 

You don’t even give him time to speak for you’re launching into your squeals and happy giggles and how Namjoon did it, and Hoseok feels a reluctant smile cross his features. It only grows when you start to gush about the ring, complimenting his skill, and he can feel a bud trying to make its way up his throat, so he mutes his phone. He doesn’t want you to hear as he rushes to the kitchen sink, as he chokes and coughs and gags and eventually spits out a nearly whole sunflower. 

It’s not a big one, maybe an inch or so in diameter, and not fully bloomed, but it’s there, and Hoseok knows it’s more of a death sentence than anything. 

“Hobi? Are you there?” 

He wipes his mouth and clears his throat and leaves the flower in the sink with its red-stained petals so that he can unmute his phone. 

“Yeah, Starshine, I’m here.”

[now]

In the alley beside your wedding, Hoseok coughs. He coughs and he gags and he chokes, until the ground is littered with flower petals that aren’t from your bouquets, and blood drops and tears. He chokes until he can’t breathe anymore, until he has to reach in and pull the flower from his throat before he really does die, and it makes him shudder when he sees that it’s nearly fully formed, almost completely bloomed and everything.

He doesn’t think he’ll make it through the next one.

He stands up, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of the red suit he chose for this exact reason, and he looks through the window, to the space where you should be dancing with Namjoon. 

You aren’t, though. You’re watching him, brows drawn together, confused, and you’re saying something that he can’t quite make out through the glass. 

Fear strikes his heart. Fear that you saw everything, that you know everything, but directly after it comes relief, because he knows now. He knows what he needs to do, because he doesn’t think he can bear to have you watch him die, but he doesn’t think he can bear not to love you anymore, either; no matter what, he’s lost you, and that knowledge solidifies his decision. He holds a hand over his chest, and you mirror him, your fingers closing around the pendant he made so, so long ago.

You turn, looking for someone - Namjoon, maybe, or Jimin, to ask what’s wrong with him, and he takes the opportunity. He heads out of the alley, as fast as his legs can carry him, because he knows. 

When you finally make it into the alley, you don’t understand. Your best friend, your best man, is nowhere to be found. In his wake are flower petals, drawn out by the wind. 

One catches your eye, and you pick it up. It’s soft against your fingertips, and you frown when you see the red on it. 

You don’t ever see Hoseok again.

[heckyeahepithetswitched]

candaru liveblogs reading her own writing: episode 6

it still absolutely makes my day when people get excited over me talking to them; like habgsdklfgh I’m not Jello I’m just an awkward bean who likes to write?? anyway today’s been pretty good

GHHGASDGAKSDLFH I LITERALLY FORGOT I WROTE THE OPENING LIKE THIS

PFFFFF I GET DONE W/PRAISING JELLO AND THEN IMMEDIATELY GO ON TO ROAST HIM

Gorou being absolutely oblivious and his minions being the ones to drive the plot is hysterical tbh

every once and a while I write a line and then have to squint at it until I figure out where I stole it from because I hear it in a VERY specific voice in my head so I know it’s a reference but even I don’t know to what

anyway (Kirbopher vc) I’M NOTTA SQUIRE!

IT’S THE SWAP VERSION OF WHAT GIO DID TO SYLVIE IN THE MUSEUM

I’m not overly fond of the original bar fight but I wanted to go with the same goofy cartoon brawl aesthetic, so I spent quite a while throwing around ideas before settling on “Nightmare Fuel, but it’s Gorou so instead of being actually scary it’s giant talking donuts trying to eat the people”

I think that was a good idea :)

this was just my personal vendetta upon learning Gorou’s original powerset haijgklsdfhgbh

...but also a good excuse for a swap!version of the “nah, I’m just awesome” line XD

soooooo this was a BIT of a cheat, but I had to have someone drop Molly’s name and I knew it couldn’t be Molly herself because she wouldn’t be dumb enough to do what Gio did (no offense Gio) and every other way I tried to make it happen had other problems, so. Gorou gets to hint at Molly’s backstory! yay!

he used to buy toys for himself and the Banzai Bees even tho he was already very much an adult :’)

this is a joke

but also a very subtle reference to the fact that the cat (who is in Howdy Morning’s role) was part of a plot-relevant “government experiment”

I absolutely love that last one ngl habsdlkpfaghfsd it’s just so absolutely something that would happen in EE

just. a bunch of minions way more competent than their leader but they all refuse to be promoted and “leave the others behind” so they end up as these very highly-skilled but low-ranking Banzai Blasters

OH I TOTALLY FORGOT UNTIL NOW

THIS WAS THE EPISODE I WROTE THROUGH A DEPRESSIVE ATTACK

AND I’M STILL REALLY PROUD OF THE WORK

don’t let your mental illnesses stop you from achieving your dreams, kids

and thus everyone’s favorite nickname was born

the most-loved scene in this entire thing, by FAR, and honestly I’m perfectly happy with that

everyone please salute Anime Campaign, proof that even your dumb friend group RPs can be turned into a masterpiece as long as you’re open-minded to change things

...I forgot I actually DID put Howdy into this basghsdklfgh (tho most of the joke was that none of his lines needed to change at ALL)

this episode is just full of jabs at Jello, huh?

BUT SERIOUSLY, SIR PLEASE. WHY COULD RAMSEY REMEMBER PERCY’S EPITHET? DO ERASER CUFFS ONLY MAKE YOU FORGET YOUR OWN? BECAUSE IT SEEMS LIKE MERA AND INDUS HAVE A PRETTY SOLID BREAKOUT PLAN IF THAT’S THE CASE. AND EVEN SO, HOW WOULD PERCY KNOW THAT ONE OR TWO “ZAPPY TOWERS” WOULD BE ENOUGH TO KNOCK HER OUT? SHE DOESN’T HAVE A NOTE AND SHE’S UNDER THE ERASER CUFF EFFECTS. SHE SHOULDN’T REMEMBER ANYTHING ABOUT PARAPET. SIR PLEASE—

one of the reasons I didn’t like Redwood Run as much as the Museum Arc was bc I felt that Percy and Ramsey didn’t have much time to actually develop their dynamic, so what they did have felt kinda forced and rushed. of course that’s not exactly Jello’s fault bc he only had THREE episodes to work with and a lot to set up, but I still did my best to give the swap duo as many little moments as possible.

I cared NOTHING for Yoomtah before writing this episode and by the time I was done I LOVED her

one of my fav artists drew this scene PERFECTLY and I now see it in their style whenever I read it

open/confirmed spoilers up ahead regarding Yoomtah:

so the whole “Yoomtah is a robot/cyborg who runs faster than anyone and has electric powers (?)” thing REALLY bothers me because Jello NEVER established that there was magic besides Epithets during the ENTIRE SHOW SO FAR (same with Phoenicia being a magical girl) and that’s just,,,, bbghdsjkg it took me a long time to go “okay, this was based on something else first, I get it, I can get used to the new rules” but gosh I just wish that had been set up better. then again I guess it’s nice that even the writers I admire the most make mistakes.

anyway, got off topic but I love how in the swap version, Yoomtah being a robot/cyborg/??? is just vaguely implied and never actually confirmed, it’s such a good running gag

also

I had. SUCH a hard time coming up with a reason for Sylvie and Yoomtah to have a rivalry, since Sylvie’s got no interest in construction work

and then literally my friend was like “isn’t Yoomtah the one who never sleeps?” and I was like “yeah, why— oh”

SEE? THINGS LIKE THIS. I THINK BUGSY & ARNOLD ARE MORE FUN AS OBVIOUSLY-CORRUPT COPS, AND I THINK YOOMTAH IS MORE FUN AS A CHAOTIC NEUTRAL WHO ISN’T ACTUALLY PART OF THE BAD GUY TEAM BUT IF YOU GET ON HER BAD SIDE SHE’LL TURN INTO YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE FOR .00092 SECONDS

idk I guess I just really like “characters who break the personality stereotypes of their moral alignments” which REALLY fits the rest of EE to a T

the case of the “golden buttocks”

I know I talk about this a lot but I was really so, so proud to finish this (& then the next script) on the deadline. I have discovered that shockingly enough, I like (creative) deadlines. Deadlines make me happy.

maybe I was fated to love EE just because of the opening intro or smth idk

[kindsummer]

I was tagged by @hillbillied, who is a horrible influence on me but also the best influence bc who else has such an emotional hard on for AndyEddie??? It’s what we deserve. 

RULES: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 ( heavy on the ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work! 

            THE BANE CHRONICLES (fic series) 

                  It’s no secret to anyone who knows me that Magnus Bane has long been my comfort character and someone that I could write essays upon essays about, despite the fact that canonical information about him is slim to none (at least that I don’t choose to ignore, thanks Casserole Clam!) and in January, I just decided that I would start to do that! This fic series is similar to an essay in that it’s in depth and gives me emotional distress, and different because it doesn’t have a deadline & took me practically a year to write a second fic after the first (we are in a Panera Bread, after all.) Many thanks to @nightmaresintofireflies for keeping this alive, even with its extremely long hiatus! 

          THE ADVENTURES OF DALLAS DIXON AND MATT MEIR (fic series) 

               I tend to do this thing when I’m feeling especially creative (and perhaps a little bit manic) wherein I write me and any number of my friends into our favorite universes just for the hell of it. K was as ever indulgent as she always is and allowed me to bring her to life in this fic series, which is still under progress (and will probably be for quite some time seeing as I have more fics that I haven’t even started yet :P), though I am currently working on The Pacific based one, The Winner Takes it All which is a true labor of love because I take twenty years to write a single sentence. We’ll get there eventually! 

          THE MOST DANGEROUS THING (IS TO LOVE) (fic) 

                   I’m a history nerd, I will always be a history nerd, I have been one since I was very little thanks to my two history major parents and my history engrossed brother. This was born from a combination of my love of The Pacific and the American Civil War, specifically my adoration of the people who lived in the South during the time period that refused to be puppets in the Confederacy’s dumbass power play. Ed knows just how *chef’s kiss* communist, liberal and absolutely feral Edward Jones is, and that also played a part in this. I’ve only got one chapter up right now but I have the entire shit plotted out and boy oh boy, are y’all in for a treat if you’re watching this one! 

           SKULLS (playlist) 

               Thanks to us being in a Peninsula and suffering, I’ve created many playlists this year, especially HBO War ones because, well, hype fixation is a son of a bitch, but this one (which is ofc, AndyEddie, don’t y’all know me??) is my favorite to listen to. If you want to cry, give it a listen, otherwise...keep yourself sane and don’t think about them being together in life and death. 

I’m not going to officially tag anyone here (since it’s less than 24 hours to the end of 2020), but if you see this and you want to brag about your achievements during this rollercoaster of a fuckin’ year, feel free to say that I tagged you and allow me to support your creative pursuits! 

[stevie-steven-stevington]

1-3 for the ask thing uwu

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

ok so. i have like....3 and a half? projects going on right now, in various states of progress from “actively working on and almost finished with” to “all i have is a few jotted down notes”. one of them is an original that i don’t wanna talk about on here for privacy reasons and shit (will tell you abt it if you pm me, bee) and one is a commission that i currently only have a premise and background info from the commissioner from bc i’m trying to finish this other project first but! i’ll talk about the other 2!

so one of them is my fic for marveltrumpshate, which. i should have done a long while back but then Shit Started Happening and it fell to the back burner and just hasn’t come back yet, but! it’s basically one of those “tony and peter gradually becoming family and learning how they fit with each other” fics - i’ve actually always wanted to write one of those and just never had the opportunity/energy to do it, so i’m excited about that. as of now i only have like 1 scene because i’m literally the worst and also MTH didn’t give an actual hard deadline and i. have ADHD. but yeah right now there’s not much to love but i do really like the amount of freedom that comes with writing one of these fics, since there’s so much empty time between SM-hoco and IW

the other is.......one of those “i don’t even go here but i got so attached to these 2 characters that didn’t turn out to be endgame and now i Have To” fics lol. i’m not gonna tell you the fandom. it’s not gonna happen, i literally hate the show and only watched it for like 4 characters out of the giant fucking ensemble cast and at this point i’m just here for 1 ship and that’s it. anyway though, it’s basically a rewrite of the latest season but this time with my ship as the main focus. it’s written as a series of scenes, started as a 5 + 1 and became.....an 11 + 1? we’re not gonna talk about that either. it’s sort of a showing of how one of the characters gradually realizes that he’s bisexual and in love with his best friend, who just recently came out too, while also dealing with deep-seated depression. i’m almost done with that one, i just have one scene left! and as for what i love most about it....i think just seeing the progression of the MC/narrator’s thoughts and feelings about his sexuality and mental health and like...the recurring motifs that i’ve sprinkled into it, like how the other character always taps his fingers on stuff when he’s anxious. it’s one of the only 20k+ fics i’ve written (which. it was meant to be like 5k max at first. it’s probably gonna be like 32k in the end. i hate myself) so it’s fun to see the progression from start to finish

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

the original project i have in the works! i’m not gonna say much, but i will say that it’s (hopefully) meant to be a YA novel, it’s very much a queer story, and it’s got my vibe written all over it lol

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

so i feel like i definitely have one or two but i can’t think of any right now - i do, however! have a bunch of song lyrics that give me super vague but super palpable inspo so i’ll give yall some of those

“you left me stained, called it art” - trust my lonely, alessia cara

“i miss the days of a life still permanent” - i wanna get better, bleachers

“we might be hollow but we’re brave” - 400 lux, lorde

“only bad people live to see their likeness set in stone...what does that make me?” - still sane, also lorde

“the secrets you tell me, i’ll take to my grave. there’s bones in my closet, but you hang stuff anyway” - guillotine, jon bellion

the entirety of heather by conan gray

the switch from “how long can we keep this up” to “how long till we call this love” in distance by christina perri

“low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline” - gasoline, halsey

“can’t take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid” - camisado, p!atd

“we tried the world, good god it wasn’t for us” and “with my mid-youth crisis all said and done, i need to be youthfully felt ‘cause god i’ve never felt young” - jackie and wilson, hozier

“my babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. if the lord don’t forgive me, i’d still have my baby and my babe would have me” - work song, also hozier lol

the entirety of turning out pt ii by ajr, especially “you said you’d love me, no matter what. you said you loved me, is that what i loved?”

“and we’re not bruised, they’re just party tattoos” - party tattoos, dodie

[shkspr]

hey do you have any advice on figuring out your sexuality? I don't know what your experience has been but im struggling

anon, i am deeply sorry that it took me so long to answer this. it’s a combination of the fact that you can’t edit a draft of an ask on mobile (wack) and the fact that i’ve been trying to figure out how to say what i want to say (normal, i feel). anyway, this is what i’ve got, and i hope it helps.

first off, due to the nature of the things i’m discussing here, i want to state unequivocally that i am a lesbian who is open to relationships with trans women because i am attracted to women, and trans women are women. if anybody touches this post with their transmisogyny i will cast the evil eye on them. 

for what it’s worth, my experience with my own sexuality has been a long, hard process, and it’s been heavily, undeniably affected by my simultaneous journey with my gender identity, my personal identity, my childhood trauma, and my mental health. pretty much from the ages of 13 to 19 i was in a constant state of questioning everything about myself as a person. the only reason i even considered i might not be straight was bc i had friends who were not straight and i admired them. you can see how that would be confusing to a small teen who is already insecure about being a poser and a fake in every other aspect of life.

once i really examined what i was feeling, and talked it out with some of the aforementioned friends, i could admit that i wasn’t pretending, and that’s when i began identifying as bi. i wove in and out of different terminologies for a few years, burned thru several nb identities and several aspec identities, but the bottom line was that i was attracted to my own gender and other genders, and that was solid for a while.

when i was 18, i began thinking that i might be a lesbian bc, shock of shocks, i had made some very cool lesbian friends whom i admired. and i pretty much pushed that idea out of the way for a bit, telling myself it was not the truth, that i just wanted to feel special and cool, i just wanted to fit in. but then, shock of shocks again, i talked to some of my cool lesbian friends and they were very understanding and accepting and explained to me why all the reasons i thought i “couldn’t” be a lesbian were actually bullshit. 

so then i was a lesbian! and i spent a long time exploring my relationship with sex and found that i wasn’t asexual; some people are, and that’s cool! but my experience wasn’t a lack of sexual attraction or desire, it was a fear of vulnerability and a traumatic history with sexual content. i still had (or have) a complex experience with sex, and a muddy picture of gender, and a deeply flawed concept of interpersonal relationships, but i am a lesbian. and i’ve been comfortable with that for a while now, and i don’t foresee myself changing how i feel about that, but unexpected things can happen. 

and even though i’m comfortable with being a lesbian and calling myself a lesbian, there are always going to be things that give me pause. the thing is, the main way that i’ve changed and grown in this regard, is that those things don’t make me seriously question myself anymore. i’m secure enough in my sexuality to know that comphet, genderfeels, societal bias, etc etc, doesn’t make me less of a lesbian, even though it might feel like it sometimes.

that’s what it’s been like for me. my experiences are not universal, but i do happen to know that some of them are fairly common. but there’s also no right or wrong way to find yourself. there’s no rush, there’s no requirement. it is confusing and difficult more often than not, in a lot of different and scary ways. that being said, if there’s one piece of advice you take away from this post, it’s to always remember that your experiences are your own, and nobody else can decide for you what they mean or what to do with them.

it’s like this: you know when people say “everyone’s a little bit bisexual”? that’s not true, obviously. but i think there’s a truth hidden underneath it, and i think it’s a common experience that erroneously leads some people to that belief. no matter how you identify, there is almost always going to be something - compulsory heterosexuality, personal trauma that makes sex or romance uncomfortable, past relationships, one (1) very attractive man, whatever it is - that makes you think you’re wrong. even if you know you’re right. there’s always going to be something that could at any moment cause you to stop and think: wait, am i lying to myself?

and some people are not as vulnerable to those thoughts! some people go thru their daily lives and very rarely, if ever, consciously question their sexuality or their perception or performance of it. but other people are more susceptible to the thought spirals and the self-doubt and the confusion, and society at large feeds that and feeds upon it. for every lesbian you meet, there’s seven people giving twelve different reasons why they can’t be a “real” lesbian. for every bisexual person you meet, there’s a handful of thinkpieces about bisexuality that contradict their experiences. and so on and so forth. and that’s enough to cause a lot of indecision and anxiety.

but it’s also very freeing to take that thought and follow it to its necessary conclusion: that nobody on earth can tell you what your sexuality is. sure, if you’re a woman who feels genuine attraction to men and wants to pursue sex or relationships with them, you’re not a lesbian. that’s just because words have meanings. but you get to decide what “genuine attraction” is to you, and you get to decide whether you’re comfortable pursuing those relationships. and that’s just one example; the same logic applies broadly.

the bottom line is really that agonizing over labels and definitions just means you miss the forest for the trees. in a practical sense, in real life, who would you want to date, marry, kiss, have sex with, etc.? without thinking about what you should do, what you should want, what you’d be able to do if you had to, what you did last week, internet discourse, a dream you had when you were 12, whatever, none of it is relevant except insofar as it informs your current feelings on the matter. you’re not obligated to choose a label, and if you want one then there’s no deadline to pick one, and once you do you’re not locked into an identity for life.

which is all to say that no, not everybody is a little bit bisexual, but nobody is 100% anything, in this or any other facet of life. and that doesn’t mean that people’s sexualities aren’t valid; they are valid, but they aren’t objective or concrete in the way we would often like them to be. they’re helpful labels for explaining something that is actually unfathomably complicated. so whatever you do, whatever you decide: you don’t need to be sure, you don’t need to be right, you don’t need to be a certain kind of person, you don’t need to be anything in particular. you just need to be comfortable.