#I remembered having a document with a story centered around this song years ago... is it still around i wonder

[yukarishoodie]

Someone please join me in being incredibly normal (lie) about this song

[whereisten]

Perfect.

A Winwin fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: things get busy for one of the world’s leading scientist’s, Yuta, so he creates his own efficient and trustworthy personal assistant robot a.k.a Sicheng. But what happens when his perfect creation develops a flaw or two?

Pairing: Scientist!Yuta x Robot!Winwin

Genre: horror, smut, angst, a tinyyy little bit of fluff

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: dark themes, side piece Doyoung, Yuta has major God-complex syndrome, cursing, weapon usage, blood mention, smut: mlm (top!Yuta, bottom!doyoung, bottom!winwin, anal penetration, masturbation, oral sex, c*eampie.

(A/N): hey guys!! This is the first fic we are posting for our Halloween Series! Every day we will post a new fic for each member of NCT 2020 so be sure to stop by to see what dark and spookyyyyy stories we create. This is also my first time writing BL so I hope it’s good enough for a first try😂 I will do better next time. Thank you❤️🥺.

—————

“He’s perfect” Yuta looks upon his creation in the open glass box.

“Height. 5’11. Date of Birth. October 28th, 1997. Eye color. Dark Brown. Hair color. Dark Brown. Origin of parts. Wenzhou, China.”

“It looks so...real. It’s kinda creepy..” Doyoung, Yuta’s coworker, analyzed the texture of the robot’s face.

“Well, he wasn’t made to be pleasant, only efficient.”

“Yes, but Yuta..don’t you think this is a bit much? Mimicking the face of an actual person..someone that died over 100 years ago? Will you name it Dorian too?”

Yuta created his robot as a personal assistant to him. He found that humans were full of error and it made them incompetent and negligent beings. And Yuta, being the best scientist in Japan, just couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. So he created him. The perfect robot, a “copy machine” that could keep up with him and do the work he does just as efficiently. He would be just as smart as him.

Yuta steps closer and runs a finger down the robots face, causing a neon green honeycomb pattern to decorate its skin. It wasn’t on, but it was still reacting to the touch against its surface. Yuta watches the green fade from its perfect cheekbones.

He made him to look like the famous Dorian Gray because he wanted him to be just as beautiful as he was smart. But if he is just a machine made to perform tasks with 100% accuracy, why would looks matter?

This is what Doyoung thought as he observed it.

“There is a word that means talented, beautiful, master piece and a gift from God..Sicheng, that will be his name.”

Doyoung scoffs. “It’s a man? With...male reproductive organs?”

“Yes..” Yuta writes something down on his clipboard.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “You’ve really lost it, haven’t you?”

“I want him to look as real as possible for when we present our findings and such. Do you think anyone will listen to a robot that looks like those beastly things from the Terminator movies? What’s the issue?” Yuta brushes past Doyoung, walking around a table in the lab and placing his clipboard onto it.

“You of all people know the issue..you’ve made him into a beautiful person and for what? Just so you can have something nice to look at while you avoid actual human company? Is it merely a solution to your loneliness, Yuta?”

Yuta smirks. “Sounds like you’re a bit jealous, Doyoung..don’t worry, I don’t plan on engaging in any activities with him. I’m not that barbaric. But even if I did, that would have nothing to do with you. Don’t forget your place in my life, you’re disposable...he isn’t.”

Doyoung’s jaw drops. “I pray this..thing..will tolerate your ungrateful and arrogant ass. For it shall be the only thing to spend time with you, you unsociable maniac.”

———

[The Next Day]

Yuta turns Sicheng on for the first time.

His eyes illuminate as he takes his first breath. He blinks but offers Yuta nothing but a blank stare. 

Yuta sits him down on the couch and turns the TV on before turning on an instructional video on human interaction. 

“Hello. Your name is Sicheng. My name is Yuta, I am your creator and master. For today’s first lesson, you will learn how to speak and express emotions. I’ve uploaded information from my own limbic system into your hard drive so you can access and apply these feelings when necessary. Do not do so without my permission. Repeat after me “yes, master.”

“Yes, master.” Sicheng responds.

“Good, I will be the only one to make demands of you, you will only respond to me and grant my wishes without fail. Alright, I see that you are blinking and breathing..” he writes a checkmark on the word document on his iPad. “Involuntary actions are operating correctly.”

He steps back. “Now, you may watch the video, I will come back when it has finished and test you.”

“Yes, master.”

———

[1 Week Later]

Sicheng has watched several videos every day for the past week. He starts to act more and more—humanlike, and to Yuta’s satisfaction, has performed his duties with 100% accuracy. In addition to performing basic tasks in the lab, like picking up test tubes or writing down Yuta’s notes and storing them into his hard drive, Sicheng has learned how to bathe, drive, cook, clean, and speak 30 languages. 

He continues to learn every day, new formulaic equations as well as feelings and ways to think on his own. He remembers everything, as he was designed to.

One day when Yuta was typing new findings on his computer in the office section of his house, Sicheng sat on the lounge chair and listened to music as Yuta had directed him to.

He was learning about all genres of music and even learned how to play the guitar in less than 45 minutes.

Today, Yuta had him listen to Hopsin, an American rapper that he liked.

When the song “What’s My Purpose?” came on shuffle, Sicheng took his head phones off.

“Excuse me, master. May I ask a question?”

He says softly.

Yuta, still typing. “Yes.”

“What is my purpose? Why did you create me, master?”

Yuta sighs. “You don’t have to verbally refer to me as master. And your purpose is to serve me, do as I ask with 100% accuracy so that you may please me and make me...happy.” 

He turns to him and gives him a cheesy smile.

Sicheng nods. “I understand, m-“ he blinks rapidly as his system reconfigures itself to change previously saved information.

Yuta smiles widely as he sees Sicheng display a smidge of confusion for a moment. He looks adorable, he thinks to himself. He’s beautiful, his lips perfectly round and puckered with a light cherry shade to them always, his eyes are a beautiful, exotic shape unlike any eyes he’s seen before. He could get lost in them if he stares for too long. So he looks away, and frowns.

“What is wrong? It seems you are unhappy?”

Sicheng’s brows furrows, his eyes stare intently as they analyze the motion of Yuta’s facial muscles.

“It’s nothing, I am going to sleep, please turn yourself off.” Yuta looks away as he rises from his desk chair and heads to his bedroom.

“Yes.” Sicheng closes his eyes and shuts down.

———

[The Next Day]

Sicheng and Yuta spend the day inside, a storm has prevented them from leaving the house and heading to the lab for work. Yuta, being the workaholic he is, is dissatisfied with the weather and hates being away from the lab. He checks the weather app through Sicheng every two minutes even though the storm rolls through loudly, violently, thunder shaking the walls.

“The thunderstorm will continue into the evening.”

“This is unacceptable!” Yuta plops down onto the couch in the entertainment room. “Sicheng! Sit with me before I lose my mind.”

Sicheng walks over and sits beside him.

Together they watch movies and laugh. Sicheng observes how happy his master is and finds himself smiling as well, a new feeling is absorbed and saved.

Yuta turns to him and sees his bright smile, his dimples coming out and his eyes closing tightly as he chuckles.

“Are you happy, Sicheng?” 

“Yes, I am happy as long as you are happy.”

Yuta rubs the top of Sicheng’s hand to watch the illuminated reaction of his fascinating skin.

Sicheng has a strange, new feeling from the touch, but doesn’t know what to categorize it as.

“Good.”

———

[The Next Day]

Yuta and Sicheng return to the lab. 

“We have so much work to do.” Yuta hurriedly places his bag down and they set to work. Things seem to be going fine, Sicheng does his best to input brand new information as Yuta works on a new formula. However, Yuta seems to be moving too fast as he is worried about how much he has fallen behind from his day at home.

“Combine elements 65 and 81, place 10 milliliters of each into the cylinder,  measure the solubility and proliferate it by 0.448, then divide the finding by 6 before combining it with element 55, this must be done quickly or we will lose all work we’ve done thus far.”

Yuta grabs the cylinder and places it down before doing his half of the work.

Sicheng, on the other hand, cannot seem to process the demand, his drive releases an error message that he can’t seem to overcome.

But he wants to please master, he must please master.

Sicheng combines elements 64 and 81 and continues on with fulfilling Yuta’s demand, but the result is not what Yuta expects.

“No..no this isn’t right, why is it reacting this way?” Yuta starts to panic as he watches the solution display a completely different state of matter under his microscope.

“Sicheng, verbally explain what you have just done.”

“I combined elements 64 and 81 in-“

“No!! It’s not 64, it’s 65, you fool! How could you make such a mistake?!” Yuta empties the cylinder quickly. “I thought you were perfect, it seems I was wrong.”

Sicheng starts to feel a new emotion.

It’s a terrible feeling, he feels unsteady, confused, for once the answer is not clear. What was this? Why did he feel dread, despair, failure?

Yuta rushes around the room as Sicheng stands in the center, dumbfounded.

When Yuta finally looks up at Sicheng, he sees the his eyes are red, tears run down his cheeks, causing them to illuminate green.

“Sicheng...no. D-don’t cry.”

“Is that what this is, master? Am I crying?”

“Yes, but I’d like you to stop. I need you to be brave enough to handle these tasks.”

He stops and wipes away his tears. 

Yuta sighs. “It’s clear I’ve made a mistake in your configuration, I will fix it when we get home later.”

The rest of the day goes by in silence. Yuta sees Sicheng as no use to him so he doesn’t instruct him to do anything. Sicheng watches Yuta eat and sits at the dinner table with him.

He knows he has done something wrong, something that displeased his master.

Is he of worth if he can’t please him? Does he have a purpose anymore?

Yuta chews heavily and tries to think of where he went wrong with his creation, but he can’t be bothered with fixing him for tonight. “Sicheng, shut down.”

He swallows hard then gets up from the table.

“Yes.” Sicheng’s eyes fade to grey, but he disobeys his master secretly, he doesn’t shut down, he stays awake  to attempt to fix himself so he can make him happy tomorrow.

Yuta then takes his phone out and calls Doyoung.

Doyoung answers reluctantly after not seeing Yuta for days since he got his new “toy.”

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Doyoung exhales loudly.

“Come over.” Yuta demands.

“And why would I do that?” Doyoung teases, but he’s already grabbed his car keys.

“I’m not asking, I want you here in 15 minutes.” Yuta hangs up.

He picks his dishes up from the table and drops them into the sink.

He takes his tie off and unbuttons his white dress shirt by three buttons. He then takes his hair tie off and places it onto the dresser. Sicheng watches as Yuta becomes more relaxed. He feels a certain ache in his system, a desire to make him smile again. A desire to please.

A few minutes later, Doyoung knocks at the door. Yuta grabs him inside by the collar and presses him into the back of the door. He slams his lips onto his and kisses him fervently, not a moment lost between them as they drown in each other’s lust. 

“Are you done with your toy?” Doyoung says breathily between kisses.

Yuta kisses him sloppily, tracing his tongue over his bottom lip then his chin and neck.

He grabs Doyoung’s waistband, pulling him closer to his pelvis so he can feel his clothed erection.

“Do you need me to please you now?” Doyoung smirks as Yuta bites his neck to leave a mark.

Doyoung grunts as Yuta pulls his shirt over his head, licking his hard nipples soon after. He darts his tongue out and licks around the nub, then places his lips around it before sucking hard.

“God, I love when you get like this.” Doyoung rubs his hand through Yuta’s hair as he continues to suck.

Yuta is too busy to see Sicheng watching them quietly. 

Please. That is the key word. Doyoung is pleasing his master so he must watch and copy Doyoung’s action so he may do the same. For what will happen if he no longer pleases him? Will Yuta replace him with Doyoung?

Sicheng listens to Yuta’s groans as Doyoung traces his hand over his crotch, smoothly touching his member through his pants.

“On your knees..you talk too much.” Yuta demands.

Doyoung smirks and licks his lips. He drops to his knees and looks up at Yuta through his lashes. He takes his zipper in between his teeth and drags it down.

Yuta pushes his brief down to let his painful erection free. “We’re wasting time.” 

“Tsk tsk, impatient as usual.”

“Open your fucking mouth, Doyoung.”

Doyoung feels himself leak as Yuta growls at him. Nothing satisfies him more than seeing Yuta beg for him, so yes, Sicheng’s creation was somewhat of a disappointment for him. He thought he would replace him, but now he is happy to see that he can’t.

Yuta exhales and throws his head back as Doyoung takes him into his mouth. He licks his lips and closes his eyes. “God, yes.”

Doyoung runs the tip against the inside of his cheek and hums to send vibrations through him.

He sticks his tongue out and licks the underside of it, tracing over every bulging vein.

He thrusts his hips forward into Doyoung and listens to him choke, he watches his cheeks become round and red.

Yuta is already close, but he wants more.

He helps Doyoung up and kisses his lips again. He takes him to the dining table and bends him over it. Yuta then drags Doyoung’s sweatpants down before cupping his hand around his cock. He aligns his own cock with Doyoung’s ass and pushes into him quickly, he buries himself into him while grabbing a fistful of his hair and bending his neck back. 

“Fuck!” Doyoung groans and holds himself up as Yuta pushes into him hard.

They both ignore Sicheng sitting at the other end of the table. Sicheng watches and absorbs the images of their bodies engaging in this new act.

Yuta pumps Doyoung’s cock with his other hand, liquid leaks out of the tip. Sicheng notes how he also has a penis and wonders if he has the same capability.

Yuta grunts as he pushes into Doyoung a few more times. Doyoung whimpers as he is stretched out over and over while bent over the table, sweat coming across his forehead as a bundle of nerves is on the brink of being released.

Yuta looks up at Sicheng’s still face, he curses and goes harder on Doyoung. And for a moment, he let his mind wander, he let himself think of..Sicheng. Touching his soft, illuminated skin as he makes love to him, or feeling his round lips on his collarbone and his chest,  how magical it would be.

“Fuck.” Yuta releases into Doyoung as Doyoung cries out while climaxing. 

Yuta sits into the chair and breathes heavily. He smooths his hair back and watches as Doyoung pulls his sweatpants back up.

“Want me to stay around for-“ Doyoung starts but Yuta interrupts him with an abrupt-

“No.”

Doyoung scoffs and leaves. Yuta cleans the table soon after and goes to bed. As he lays in bed, he sees Sicheng’s beautiful face. He dreams of laying with him, touching him. He knows he shouldn’t think of these things, but he can’t seem to stop.

———

[A Few Days Later]

Sicheng starts to read novels and books about the concept of forgiveness while he is home and away from the lab. Yuta has been quiet and doesn’t look at him much, he doesn’t even take him to the lab on most days anymore. 

“I have to fix you before you can come back to the lab, we cannot afford any more mistakes.” Yuta says sternly when Sicheng asks if he is to join him one day. He shuts the door and looks down as he leaves.

Sicheng starts to overthink, or overanalyze rather. He wants Yuta to forgive him and be happy again. What good is he if he only disappoints his creator?

He watches movies as well, movies that discuss love and heartbreak. Love is a feeling of admiration towards someone, based on Sicheng’s findings and research. He admires Yuta so he loves him. He wants Yuta to love him too so he can be happy like the others in the novels and movies are. That is the conclusion he’s come to. 

But in order to show his love he must do as they do in the movies and as Doyoung did with him. 

One day at dinner, Sicheng watches Yuta eat the meal he has prepared for him.

When Yuta is almost finished, he breaks the silence.

“Do you love me, master?”

Yuta nearly choked on his food. “I..hmmm..Well...you’re my creation..but I don’t..”

“Yuta, I would like to please you, would you like to make love to me?”

Sicheng asks, weakness coats his tone.

Yuta scoffs. “Of course not! That’s not what you were created for!”

“I apologize.” Sicheng’s head lowers.

“Sicheng, exterminate all information related to “love.” Yuta brings his dish to the kitchen and heads to his room.

“Yes.” Sicheng doesn’t delete anything from his hard drive, but why not? Why was he disobeying his orders, not once, but twice now?

Yuta didn’t know that he made a mistake by inputting his limbic system into Sicheng. He didn’t know that he would develop emotions, feelings, desires of his own, and that this could become a serious issue.

———

[1 Week Later]

Sicheng started working with Yuta in the lab a few days before. Things are slowly going back to normal as Yuta begins to trust him more. They continue on with their tasks and Sicheng is able to keep up with him.

This new confidence, however, causes both Yuta and Sicheng to move faster. 

Yuta walks around the room swiftly, heading behind his assistant. “Sicheng, hand me the solution.”

Sicheng, already prepared, turns to hand it to him, but Yuta miscalculated his reaction time, causing him to bump into Sicheng.

The solution flies out of the graduated cylinder and onto Yuta’s lab coat and pants. Some of it splatters onto his neck.

“Shit!” Yuta runs to the shower room down the hall. They are working after hours so no one else is there but the two of them. Fortunately for them, as other scientists would’ve been greatly concerned.

Sicheng runs after him. “Master! I apologize for my mistake, please do not be displeased with me.”

“Sicheng! Just leave me alone!”

“I will help you.”

“No! Just...wait there.” Yuta finally enters the shower.

Sicheng doesn’t wait, he goes into the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He watches as Yuta throws his coat off then takes his pants down.

Yuta curses and is visibly upset, but then he feels light hands come to his front side.

Sicheng unbuttons his shirt for him and takes it off from the back. 

Yuta’s mouth falls open, but he doesn’t tell Sicheng to leave. He steps forwards into the shower and washes himself off, not realizing the Sicheng is now taking his own clothes off.

Sicheng stands outside of the shower and thinks of what to do next.

Must please master.

He draws the curtain open.

“Sicheng! What are you doing? The solution didn’t get on you, put your clothes back on!”

Yuta pushes back his wet hair out of his face then places his hand over his cock.

Sicheng doesn’t listen. He steps into the shower and stares into the eyes of his master.

Yuta cowers and feels the cold tile against his back as he looks at his creation with lustful, hungry eyes he had never seen before.

The water droplets begin to leave slowly fading green marks on his skin and he looks beautiful.

“Touch me, like you touched Doyoung, master. I would like to make you happy too.”

Yuta’s mouth falls open, his brows furrow as he is stunned to silence.

Sicheng places his lips onto his mouth and attempts to mimic a kiss. He had watched many videos that showed it in detail and now he was able to do it with Yuta.

Yuta closes his eyes and kisses him back. He turns his head and licks over Sicheng’s plump lips, it tastes like cherries, his favorite fruit, and he wonders if Sicheng purposely put cherry chapstick on for this.

Yuta places his hand on the side of Sicheng’s face as he deepens the kiss, letting go of all concern about the consequences to come from this moment. He doesn’t care, he just wants to make love to his creation.

Steaming water falls down both of them, making their hair cling to their foreheads as they smother each other.

Yuta runs his hands across Sicheng’s muscular arms and watches his skin light up from his touch.

Sicheng then runs his hand down Yuta’s abs, feeling the bricks under his smooth skin. Sicheng blinks rapidly as he feels something new. 

“Arousal.you’re feeling arousal.” Yuta practically hears Sicheng’s confusion as he kisses along his neck.

Sicheng’s pulse begins to race as he feels something funny happening to his penis.

“Here.” Yuta takes Sicheng’s hand in his. Sicheng thinks he is going to place it on his own erection, but Yuta doesn’t do that, he places it on Sicheng’s semi-limp member.

Yuta looks into his eyes and speaks deeply. “Touch yourself, move your hand up and down.”

Sicheng’s eyes widen as he starts to stroke his member like he had watched Doyoung do. A tingly feeling begins to fill him up in his nether region when he wraps his hand around it. 

“I see you haven’t been listening to me. You’ve been staying awake when I tell you to shut down, and you haven’t deleted “love.” Yuta smirks.

“No, master, I-“ Sicheng stumbles over his words as he focuses on Yuta’s tongue suddenly on his chest.

Yuta licks the pink circle around Sicheng’s nipple, before flattening his tongue onto the hardening bud. 

He then bites it and watches as the area lights up in a bright shade of green from irritation.

“How do you feel, Sicheng?” 

“I feel good m-master. Are you happy?” Sicheng nearly goes into overdrive as he is turned on more and more from his hand.

Yuta swats Sicheng’s hand away from his member and replaces it with his own.

He pumps Sicheng up and down, coating his hand in Sicheng’s slick. He slides the skin back and forth, feeling Sicheng’s glans with each pass. He then leans down and kisses his neck again, sucking hard and biting his skin. He moves his hand faster as spit mixed with water covers Sicheng’s skin.

Sicheng can’t hold back, he releases an interesting sound from the immense pleasure he feels in the pit of his stomach. He breathes more heavily than usual as his mouth falls open.

He moans once again. “There is a buildup happening, Yuta. However, I would like to make you happy first.”

Sicheng places his hand on Yuta’s and pulls it away while looking into his eyes, water making his lashes look darker than usual.

Yuta feels dizzy just from the sight of the beautiful man in front of him, his color fading from green in all the places he kissed and teased. His erection is painful at this point. Sicheng looks down at it with red cheeks and nods. “You can make love to me...if you don’t like me, just imagine I am Doyoung.”

Yuta furrows his brows. “Are you crazy? Of course I like you, I created you!” He turns Sicheng around, taking his hand and placing it on the wall of the shower.

Yuta wraps his hand back around Sicheng’s leaking cock and continues to move it up and down.

He enters Sicheng, sliding into his already wet anus. 

Sicheng lets out another moan, then covers his mouth from embarrassment. 

“I’ve wanted to fuck you so badly, because you’re perfect..you’re all mine..and you’re fucking..perfect.”

Yuta thrusts hard into him with his chest on Sicheng’s warm back.

He takes his other hand and turns his face towards him, Sicheng’s lips are swollen and red from their kiss, his eyes are wide, his nose is dainty. Everything about him is just beautiful.

“If you like me, master, do you love me too?”

The words leave his lips in a whimper as Yuta bucks into his body, he feels a slight pain as he struggles to adjust to Yuta, but in time, he knows he will.

Yuta kisses him hard, tightening his grip around his cock and intertwining his fingers with his.

Sicheng feels unbelievably amazing around him. He smiles to himself as he thinks about how he designed both his reproductive and nervous systems without error. His body reacts perfectly when aroused, his length glistening with Sicheng’s slick as it also leaves his anus through a special system he designed.

Yuta looks at the beautiful boy’s back and shoulders, he kisses the nape of his neck and then his ear.

“I love you, fuck yes, I love you.” In that moment, Yuta is happy, but he can’t help but be worried about Sicheng’s inaccuracies in the lab, how he nearly put his life in danger. But he’s fix it, he’d find a way to fix him.

He glided his dick into him faster, skin slapping on skin as he grunts and Sicheng whimpers. Yuta feels his cock twitch as it runs against his silky walls.

Sicheng’s system overloads, he releases onto the tiled shower wall and looks down in amazement as a strange liquid leaves his body in heavy spurts for the first time. It feels wonderful to have such a new and exciting release.

Yuta takes what has fallen onto his fingers and sticks it into Sicheng’s open mouth.

“Suck.”

Sicheng does as he demands and Yuta cums into his body soon after.

Yuta curses as he continues to suck his fingers and bounce on his pulsing length. He orgasms harder than ever before, feeling his body tremble from the stimulation. He becomes lightheaded.

He pulls out and watches Sicheng leak his seed through low eyes as he pants.

As he comes down, reality settles in. What has he done? He’s turned Sicheng into the very thing he didn’t want to turn him into.

Sicheng drives them home after they wash themselves off and get dressed.

When they get home, Yuta lies in bed as Sicheng sits on a chair in the corner of the room silently.

He is disturbed by his actions and swears to never let lust take him over again.

“Sicheng…delete all memories of this day and shut yourself off.”

Sicheng’s system runs into a slight error as he hears his master's demands. Why did he want him to forget about this wonderful day? Wasn't he happy? Was he displeased at the end of it? What did he do wrong?

“Sicheng?”

“Yes, master. I am currently deleting all of today’s data from my storage. Goodnight.” He says as his eyes fade to grey. 

But once again, he doesn’t obey him. He holds onto the memories and feelings because he enjoys seeing his master happy.

———

[A Few Days Later]

Yuta distances himself from Sicheng. He doesn’t take him to the lab anymore, he doesn’t even sit at the table to eat. He goes into his room to avoid him.

Some days, he won’t tell Sicheng to ‘wake up’. But Sicheng turns himself on anyway so that he can watch him.

One day when Yuta starts to get dressed, Sicheng walks up behind him and places his favorite blue tie around his neck. Sicheng’s fingers graze Yuta’s neck, sending goosebumps down his spine.

“No!” Yuta jumps as he is startled by Sicheng’s touch. He steps forward and turns to him. “Please..do not touch me.”

Sicheng tilts his head and stares in confusion. 

Why was he disturbed by his simple touch? Maybe he wasn’t feeling well, that had to be it.

But just four days after they made love, Yuta invites Doyoung over and they make love. Sicheng sees that Yuta enjoys another man’s touch. Doyoung grips his waist then scratches his back while Yuta thrusts into him.

Sicheng sits quietly with grey eyes as they fuck in Yuta’s bedroom. He tries to calm his racing pulse and begins to think dangerous things. 

Does he love Doyoung? Yes. He will get rid of me won’t he? I have failed to please master, I must please him before he gets rid of me. If he is unhappy, I must show him that I love him by pleasing him.

When they are done and deep in sleep, Sicheng rises from the bedroom chair and heads to the living room. He realizes he must gain more knowledge so he can make Yuta happy again. He reads poems and comes across one by Oscar Wilde titled “The Ballad of Reading Gaol.”

Doyoung and Yuta snore softly while he sits in the living room and reads.

He reads a passage that sticks out to him.

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves

    By each let this be heard.

Some do it with a bitter look,

    Some with a flattering word.

The coward does it with a kiss,

    The brave man with a sword!”

Yuta loves Doyoung, that’s why he spends time with him. But Doyoung cannot take his place, therefore, he must get rid of him, he must kill the thing Yuta loves. And then Yuta can decide if he loves him, then he can kill him. This is what Sicheng had come to understand.

Brave. Yuta had told him to be brave once. Perfect.

Now, all he needed was a sword. 

Sicheng searches for types of swords.

A sword is a weapon with a long metal blade.

A blade is sharp. A knife is sharp. He must get a knife.

Sicheng goes into the kitchen and takes out a knife from the cabinet.

He walks into the bedroom with it and stands over Doyoung, staring and searching deep into his body to see his veins pumping crimson blood to and from his beating heart. Sicheng’s eyes turn to a glowing red color as he calculates how hard and fast he must act to strike the knife through Doyoung’s chest. He wants to clean it cleanly so as to not make master upset.

Doyoung is woken up by a strange presence. He turns over and is shocked to see Sicheng standing over him while gripping a knife. He smiles sadistically as his red eyes glisten in the moonlight.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Doyoung sits up straight in the bed.

“Don't do this!”

Sicheng leans downward and grins. “I only obey master’s orders.”

He doesn’t give Doyoung the chance to escape, he quickly drives the knife into his chest, blood splatters over his perfect face as Doyoung screams loudly into the night.

Yuta jumps up. “What—Sicheng!! oh my God, what did you do?!” 

Sicheng pulls the knife back out of his chest. “I killed him for you master, for each man kills the thing he loves. I did it for you.” He tilts his head and looks down at Yuta with wide eyes in hopes of gaining a look of satisfaction from Yuta.

But instead, Yuta stares in horror at Doyoung’s lifeless body. His hands start to shake.

“If I love you, Yuta, does that mean I must kill you as well?” Sicheng asks innocently while blinking rapidly. His system is reconfiguring itself as it develops and stores new information.

“No-no! Shut up! Shut down!!”

“But master, I want to please you by loving you..” Sicheng steps closer, Doyoung’s blood drips down the side of his face and onto Yuta’s bed sheets.

His eyes are still red and Yuta is confused as to how, for he never installed that feature.

“Sicheng! I order you to shut down now!”

“Yes, master. I will do that as soon as I am done being brave enough to handle this task.” He crawls over the bed with the knife in his hand still and a horrific smirk.

“Sicheng!” Yuta raises his arm above his head to block his blow.

He knocks the knife out of his hand and grabs both of Sicheng’s wrists. He overpowers him and flips him over onto the bed.

Sicheng doesn’t fight back, he only stares into Yuta’s eyes and continues to grin.

“Must.please.master.Must.make.master.happy..must.love. Master.” There’s a glitch in Sicheng’s system that causes him to repeat these three things over and over, and it drives Yuta insane.

His perfect creation crumbles right in front of his very eyes and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Shut up! SHUT UP!” Yuta wraps his hands around Sicheng’s neck. He can’t control his confusion, sadness, anger. He chokes Sicheng so hard the metal in his neck begins to break and the sound echoes into the gloomy house.

Sicheng’s eyes fade to grey one final time as Yuta kills him for good.

His muttering stops, but his haunting smile remains, engraving itself into Yuta’s memory forever.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

Yuta arrives home after a long day at the lab. It had been only two weeks since Doyoung was killed by his robot and he was still dealing with the pain of losing something he loved so dearly. No, not Doyoung, but Sicheng rather. He missed his company, his touch, his soft exotic eyes and deep voice.

He made a mistake and Yuta could’ve fixed him, but unfortunately the police department took him away after he had reported the murder.

When Yuta asked what they would do with him, they told him that Sicheng would be locked up in a metal box in their department until they decided on how to proceed with the murder case.

But it didn’t matter really. Yuta killed Sicheng in the end. His body was now just clunky metal.

Yuta sighs and sits down on his couch. He turns the TV on and switches it to the news channel to distract himself from his own feelings, never noticing the glistening red eyes that watch him quietly from the corner of the dark room.

He’s watching..he’s always watching.

“Breaking News, there’s been a suspected terrorist attack inside the Osaka Prefectural Police Department. Nearly all police officers have been brutally murdered. The assailant is unknown and is still at large. We are under curfew until further notice, everyone must stay inside and lock their doors..”

Yuta sits up straight and thinks to himself. That’s the same department that Sicheng is in. What if—

“Master..please forgive me for being gone for so long.”

A low voice speaks into the large room.

Sicheng steps out from the shadows, the blood of his victims dripping down his naked body and face. 

Yuta stands up from the couch, his eyes widening as Sicheng walks slowly towards him. 

“Sicheng..what did you do?” Yuta’s eyes brim with tears as he swallows hard.

Sicheng’s neck seems to have healed itself somewhat, the purplish bruises being the only indication that Yuta had choked him. Once again, Yuta doesn’t recall installing a self-healing feature.

“They all tried to stop me, Yuta..” Sicheng smiles widely and runs his bloody hands through his own hair to smooth it back out of his face. “But I couldn’t let them...I have to serve you. I have to please you and make you happy, that is my purpose.”

--------

come back tomorrow for the next spooky story...

[snowdice]

Gaps in His Files (Part 14) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

They’re so dumb... just... so... dumb.

Note that I just posted Part 13 a minute before this!! Read that first!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

When Patton arrived back at his apartment for the first time since Tuesday afternoon (though it felt like it had been much longer), he decided to finally take Remy’s advice. He grabbed a tub of ice cream, sat down on his couch, and just cried for about two hours before he finally fell asleep. He woke to the sound of frantic knocking on his door. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled to the door and opened it.

“Put this on!” was the first thing the person on the other side of the door said, thrusting a hanger with a white bag covering its contents at Patton.

“Wha?” Patton asked as Logan shoved his way into the apartment.

“We’re going to be late,” Logan stressed. “We can’t be late, Patton!”

“Late for what? Logan what?” God Patton shouldn’t have left him alone. What was he thinking?

“I forgot about the reservations. How could I forget about the reservations, Patton?”

“Logan?” Patton said cautiously. “Are you okay?”

“I am perfectly well, but we need to be to the park by 6, and I have just remembered all of the ways this could go wrong!” As he spoke, he ripped the bag off his own black suit and hung the other hanger up on Patton’s coat closet door before starting to strip out of his trousers.

Patton paused, hopeful. He seemed… more confused than he had been since he’d lost his memories, but… “You remember something?” he asked softly.

“Oh, I remember everything,” he said waving his hand through the air absentmindedly, standing in the middle of Patton’s apartment in his underwear as he grabbed the dress pants and started to struggle into them.

“You remember?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, the coffee shop, the surgery, the dates, you staying over at my place 81.3% of the time because it’s closer to the hospital, the fact that you leave dried up pens all over my living room,” he blathered as he finished fastening the pants. Once he was done with that, he stepped toward Patton and grabbed his face in his hands. “The fact that you will never go along with my plans without some form of argument. Put the suit on Patton!”

Patton gapped at him for a moment before his mouth slammed shut, his hands clenched at his sides, and his eyes started to well with tears. “Maybe lead with that next time,” he spat.

Logan did that double blink thing he did when he was particularly startled by Patton. “Apologies love, you are correct of course,” and oh, how was Patton supposed to stay mad at that? Patton softened, and, when he titled his head up to look him in the eyes, Logan pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I think we may have a lot to talk about,” Logan said softly, and oh. Oh right. Patton hadn’t really thought though the possible consequences of his outburst now that Logan remembered everything. “But right now, we have somewhere we really need to be. I’ve bought you a suit that will look very pretty on you. Will you please put it on for me, love?”

Patton nodded, brain a whirlwind of emotions, but he got another quick sweet kiss out of it that steadied him enough to do as he asked.

The next thing Patton knew, he was literally flying out of his apartment. Logan said it was the only way they’d make it to wherever they were going on time.

Not wanting to be seen, Logan had to land them a couple of blocks away from the busy park in one of the city’s closer suburbs. He kept looking at his watch as he towed Patton by the hand toward the center of the park

“Um, Logan,” Patton said, “it looks like we aren’t supposed to be here. There aren’t any people and it’s blocked off by rope.” He pointed to said rope with his free hand while trying to tug at the hand in Logan’s grip to make him stop.

He paused and turned to Patton. “Dear, please, in,” he glanced at his watch, “five minutes and 53 seconds, I will be happy to do anything you say, but will you just do as I ask for a little under six minutes?”

“I…fine.”

“Good,” Logan proceeded to pull him towards a blocked off area near the base of the fountain. He searched the ground for something and then pointed at a bit of glow-in-the-dark paint. “Stand there,” he said, and Patton did, shooting him a confused look. “Now face me.”

“Okay…”

Logan took a deep breath now that they were in position. “And with over 30 seconds to spare,” he breathed.

“I still have no idea what’s happening,” Patton pointed out.

“I know,” he replied. “I was supposed to have more than 30 seconds. I was going to walk you slowly through the park and buy you a flower from the vender down the street. I was going to distract you enough that you didn’t even notice the ropes blocking people from this spot, but life got in the way. I should have expected it with you being a doctor and me being me. We have busy lives, difficult lives that get in the way a lot of the time. And you said some things the last few days that worry me and we’re going to have to talk about it and where it came from, but I would like to talk about it. Actually, I insist you talk to someone about it even if it isn’t me. Because our lives are complicated and messy and neither of us are perfect in general or even for each other. But maybe that doesn’t matter because despite all of that, we still somehow made it here in time and I think that might mean something. Something really, really important.”

“Logan sweetie, whatever’s going on, it’s alright. You need to calm down.”

“This is traditionally not a calm sort of thing from what I understand. Anyway,” he said, looking at his watch. “It’s time.”

“What are-” At that moment, the fountain next to them started up, the little white lights that had already been lit on it shimmering like little stars in the moving water.

Logan went down on to his knees and pulled a ring out of his pocket.

“Oh my god.”

“Will you marry me?”

“I…” Patton said. “I thought you didn’t want to get married.”

“What gave you that impression?” he asked.

“You… I asked you to marry me and you didn’t say yes.”

“You did not ask me to marry you.”

Patton stared at him. “I said I wanted to marry you and you said to give you more time.”

He looked like a very confused puppy on his knees in front of Patton. “Yes, for the planning. We had discussed that you would want a dramatic proposal after you expressed a desire to be married.”

“Wha- When did that conversation happen?” Patton asked.

“Two years and 11 months ago in the park by the hospital when we saw a man perform a song to propose to a woman. I had said that those types of proposals made me uncomfortable and you asked me why as you believed they were romantic. I explained that the receiving party would likely feel pressured to say yes in front of a crowd and that such an act could be manipulative. You said we could compromise and that it would be alright if they’d already said they wanted to be married and the other person did it to make them feel loved and surprise them about the day and type of ring, but not the question. You said that would be your ideal proposal.”

“Logan that was our second date.”

“Yes.”

Patton sighed. “Oh honey, I love you. I think we really need to work on our communication skills, but I love you.”

“I would agree after the last few days,” Logan said. “I also love you very much.”

Patton looked down at him still on his knees… because he was proposing. Right. “Oh! And yes! Of course, yes!”

Logan smiled at him softly and Patton wanted to jump up and down, but he also wanted to cry a bit and maybe sorta wanted to throw up a little and not just from the entire tub of strawberry ice cream he’d eaten a couple of hours ago. But the thing he most wanted was what he could tell he was about to get. Logan put the ring on his finger (Patton made a note to actually look at the thing sometime later) and got to his feet before sweeping Patton up into a kiss.

Patton drew back from the kiss feeling lighter than he had in days though not nearly completely perfect. He looked around himself. “Oh, wow,” he gushed. “This is so pretty! You’re so pretty! I’m so pretty! I love this suit. Oh, can we take pictures somehow before we leave?”

Logan laughed at him softly. “I hired photographers of course,” he informed him, preening a little bit, “They doubtlessly got pictures of the proposal and the kiss. We can have them take more if you’d like.”

“Oh, those are going to be wonderful pictures with us in front of the fountain like this. This is the most perfect thing I could ever imagine. I love you so much.” He started to get a bit chocked up. Logan pulled him into a hug and gee, that was even better than the kiss had been, especially because they didn’t have to pull away to breathe for a hug. Logan never even tried to pull back even though Patton kept him wrapped up in his arms for far longer than most hugs ever went. He just pressed a kiss to the top of his head and rubbed his back until the ache in Patton’s chest eased enough for him to feel comfortable pulling back himself.

(And then Patton goes to therapy for 5 years and they both go to relationship counseling for 2 years as I have mentioned in Labels Shift. I do plan to eventually do at least a one-shot of Patton in therapy, but I wanted to end on a happier note.)

Want to read more? Here’s the Epilogue.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Midnight Angel

Pairings: Peter Parker x Gender Neutral!Reader

Summary: There are some disgusting people in this world- people who feel the need to exert power over others in terrible ways. When victims speak up, they are ignored, or worse, blamed. When you decide to take matters into your own hands, you run into a particular superhero. 

Warnings: Violence; Repeated mentions of sexual assault, rape and abuse (though no actual depictions of any); I guess there’s like borderline torture but not really? Stapling things to people’s bodies?; Cursing; Rope around the neck (not hanging anyone but they get pulled by it, like a collar)

Word Count: 4000

A/N: All victims of the Midnight Angel (Philip Meeks and Hillary Times) are entirely made up characters! These are not based off real people and if anyone has these names, this is not an accusation of them in any way shape or form. Just a coincidence. 

_________________________________

Finding targets was always the easiest part. You had two main methods: 1) Tracking people down through the internet and 2) Hearing about them through your mother’s law firm. Going to a STEM school that emphasized proficiency with computer programming made hacking into web systems to find the necessary information simple. Since your mother specialized in representing abuse and rape victims in court, getting information from her files was a quick task. 

You didn’t think of yourself as a criminal, although you knew that by all legal definitions, you were. But was it really a crime when you hurt people who hurt others? By targeting rapists and abusers, you were only making the city safer. You considered it community service that you could never include on a college application. 

It all started when your mother came home, angrily devastated by the loss of a case her client had against her ex-boyfriend, claiming he’d been abusing both her and their son. The evidence has been solid. Multiple police reports from both her and their neighbors, along with pictures documenting the abuse and witness reports made for a nearly assured win for the client. Your mother had been so excited that the poor woman and her child could finally rest easy knowing that their abuser was behind bars. But then the ex-boyfriend’s lawyer said something that instilled just enough doubt in the jury’s mind to return from deliberation with a not guilty verdict. 

You remembered your mother coming home in tears that night, telling you how she felt like she’d failed the victims because now the boyfriend would walk free. That night, though, you decided that he wouldn’t. It wasn’t difficult to go through your mother’s computer once she fell asleep, a solo bottle of wine later, to find out where to find the boyfriend lived, though it took some digging through multiple databases. 

Once you found your target’s location, you had gotten dressed in dark but unsuspecting clothes and gloves, the face masks you were forced to wear due to COVID-19 coming in handy for concealing your identity without looking suspicious, and snuck out through the fire escape, making your way a few blocks down to the sketchy apartment building your target resided in. You climbed the fire escape up to the fifth floor and peeked in through the window before the actual attack. The man was asleep on the couch, the TV illuminating the otherwise dark room. The cans of beer scattered haphazardly across the coffee table told you that he would probably be difficult to wake up, which was perfect. 

You flicked the blade of your pocket knife out and used it to slide under the windowpane and shimmy the lock until it clicked open. Carefully, you slid the window open, watching for any reaction from the man only to see him still sawing logs on the couch. Once you were in, the first step was reaching into your backpack to remove duct tape and rope that you brought with. You grabbed a chair and carefully brought it into the center of the small living room, just far enough away to make it impossible to reach anything, before tiptoeing back to him and placing a strip of duct tape over his slightly stubbled face. 

His eyes shot open and he woke with a start, hand going up immediately to grip your wrist that dwarfed in comparison. You’d expected this reaction, though, and grabbed his wrist, using his own force to throw him off of the couch and onto the ground. 

Little known secret: Your mother had had you in judo classes since you were a young child. Though you’d never gotten into competing for any more than earning belts, you were one of the best pupils until you quit a few years ago. 

The man was caught off guard and he tried to yell at you through the tape but to no avail. You rolled to straddle him and looped the rope around his neck, albeit sloppily, but it tightened just enough when you pulled on it. Using the rope as leverage, you stood up and dragged him over to the chair. He crawled sloppily, fumbling over himself as you tugged on the rope in a sadistic yet satisfying display of power when he didn’t move fast enough. 

“Get up!” You demanded quietly but aggressively, trying to distort your voice naturally by making it a few octaves lower than it naturally sat. He sat back on his knees, prying at the rope around his throat but you just tugged on it, making him lurch forward, his hands landing on the chair. “Sit.” 

On shaky hands, he pressed himself up to obey and you used the long end of the rope in your hands to wrap around his body, tying him to the chair. The rope around his neck was loose now, mostly just there to serve as a reminder of what you could do if you really wanted to, but the rope bit into his biceps. 

Once he was securely tied in place, you walked around the front of the chair to get in his face. His brown eyes were wide with fear and confusion and a fucked up part of you loved to see it. “You like to hit little kids, huh?” You asked and he shook his head aggressively in denial, tears brimming in his eyes. 

You sent a solid left hook to his face, “You liar. You really think I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know what you did?” You shook your hand, never having truly punched anyone in the face before and boy did it hurt like a bitch. 

For the finishing touch of your master plan, you reached into your bag one final time, retrieving a staple gun and a piece of paper you’d printed out that read I think it’s fun to beat women and children. Uncreative, you knew, but this was a spontaneous act of vigilantism. Next time, you’d think of something better. 

“Tell me… what is it about it that you enjoy?” You waved the staple gun around as you spoke and his eyes followed it in terror, “Is it some power trip? Do you enjoy seeing the fear in your girlfriend’s eyes when you're about to hit her? The fear in your son’s? How old is he again? Four?” Seeing somebody look so afraid of you, by what you were doing and saying honestly scared you but the rage was taking over, fueling your shaky hands as you continued your little speech, “How people like you exist in this world is beyond me. Even more is how monsters like you get away with it. But don’t worry, you won’t ever again.” 

In a flash, you stuck the paper to his chest and used the staple gun to send short metal prongs into his pectoral muscle, tacking the label to his skin painfully. He screamed out in pain as the metal curled beneath his skin but it was muffled by the tape, inaudible to the neighbors in every direction. 

“Now, you get to stay here until somebody finds you and when they do, they’ll see you for what you are. If I ever hear that you put your hands on another person again, I don’t give a damn who it is, I’ll come back and tattoo it across your fucking forehead. Or I’ll just kill you.” You shrugged before leaning in, your forehead nearly touching his, “But remember that I found you this time. Finding you again will be even easier.” 

You made your way to the window, stepping out, “Sleep tight.” 

**

“Today’s top story, another victim of the vigilante taking out abusers and rapists. This time, a woman named Hillary Times was found tied to the kitchen table of her Queens apartment with a paper that says, quote ‘Don’t trust the babysitter’ end quote, stapled to her chest. Along with the note was included multiple pages of messages between Times and several children, all under the age of fifteen. Also provided was a link to a web forum dedicated to child pornography, which has led to the arrests of not only Miss Times but four other suspects. Times sustained minor injuries in the attack and is expected to make a full recovery. She is the latest victim of what news articles are calling the Midnight Angel. Some are making them out to be a hero while others see it as a violent rampage. What is the truth? We’ll leave that up to you. Now, onto sports…” 

Peter watched the news play on his computer screen while he suited up for his nightly patrol as Spiderman. He couldn’t lie, he was actually sort of impressed by this Midnight Angel person, whoever they were. As long as they were only hurting bad people, he didn’t see a problem with it. Besides, he was no better. He was just some kid acting like a vigilante in the night, just like the Midnight Angel. Just like all the Avengers were before they were an organized collective. 

He swung out the window and out into the bustling New York City night. Even at midnight, the song rang true. It was the city that never slept. 

Peter went through his usual routine, swinging around, looking for any sign of distress. He didn’t find any after looking for at least an hour, which was actually disappointing. It wasn’t that Peter wanted anyone to be getting murdered or robbed or what have you but he always craved a bit of action. Tonight was just one of those rare calm nights where he found himself sitting on the ledge of a tall apartment building, swinging his legs over the edge in boredom. 

Or so he thought. 

It was quiet at first- so quiet that he wouldn’t have heard it without his exceptional senses. It came through at first as a tip tap tip tap of something against metal. Peter couldn’t tell exactly what it was but his senses told him it was coming from a few dozen feet below him, still in the same building. 

Crawling along the side of the building, he crept in the shadows until he saw the source of the noise. You swung your body gracefully over the edge of the fire escape and crouched down at the window before taking something from your pocket. What it was, Peter couldn't tell from where he was but it got his blood pumping in anticipation. Home invasion. It had been a long time since he'd dealt with one of these and they always got interesting. 

He watched as you slid the window open and crawled through the port, disappearing into the apartment like a shadow in the night. Peter continued crawling down the building another four stories until he saw the open window you used to enter. 

It was unnervingly quiet at first, though he could hear your light footsteps pattering down the halls, almost imperceptibly. Peaking in, he noticed the main room was empty, apart from typical living room and dining room furniture. The kitchen was directly across from the window, only separated from the living room by a little bar, but his hearing was piqued in the direction of the short hallway to his right. 

Suddenly, there was a thud and the sound of a muffled struggle from down in that direction. Peter rushed down and burst into the bedroom to see you straddling a man on the ground, who it looked like you had just pulled out of bed. He was face down and struggling as you roughly pulled his head up by a gag cloth you had in his mouth that you were struggling to tie. 

"Shut up!" You hissed, smacking the man upside the head. He didn't and only struggled more. 

Peter jumped into the action, immediately helping the man in distress. Before you could even process what was happening, the boy shot a web at you and flung you into the wall roughly. You hit it with a thud and crumbled to the ground. 

What the hell?! 

With a pained groan, you leap to your feet and lunged to grab the man you had pinned, now trying to make a desperate escape. Now that you didn't have the advantage of the target being groggy from sleep, he kicked you in the face roughly with his sock covered feet. You retracted just enough to cover your face with your arms but this allowed for him to scramble away. 

"Don't worry sir! I'm here to help!" A boy's voice called out from the doorway. When you looked up, you saw none other than Spiderman. This meant you were either going to get help or were really fucked. Sure, you had computer skills and martial arts training but he had sticky webs and super strength. 

"Get him!" You called out to Spiderman, desperate not to lose your target. 

Peter stood confused. You demanded his help as if it were an obvious move. Why would a robber expect him to help? Maybe something else was going on… 

When he didn't move, the man shoved past him, desperate to get to the front door, "Please let me go! Help me out Spiderman! This person just broke in and attacked me!" 

You ran after, quickly tackling the man to the ground. He threw punch after punch your way but you swiftly dodged all but one. The one that landed sent you to your ass, falling backwards heavily. 

“Shut up you pathetic sack of shit! You think your exes got help when you beat them?" You spat, venom in your words as you maneuvered have him pinned for a third time.

Those words made it click to Peter. "You're the Midnight Angel?" 

"Yes! Now help me or get out of my way!" Under normal circumstances, you were much nicer but currently you were struggling immensely to keep this guy under control. Manners were not your top priority. 

Peter didn't need much time to contemplate. With a flick of his wrist he had the guy caught in a web and held in place. "What should I do?" Peter didn't know why he felt so clueless. Didn't he do this crap every night? He should know how to capture a bad guy. But because you were involved, he felt like an accomplice to a crime and it made him nervous. The way you handled things seemed so much darker than the way he did. 

The guy was only held by his chest by the webs, his arms free. He took the opportunity to grab at you and pulled your mask down. You gasped in horror and your first instinct was to send a mean left hook to the man's head, effectively sending him to the ground, unconscious, before he could get a good look at you. You just hoped he hadn’t gotten a good enough look at you to describe you to police. 

"Wait, Y/N?!" You froze. How could Spiderman know who you are? And why did the way he said your name sound so familiar…

"How do you know who I am?" You asked defensively, quickly pulling your mask back over your face. 

Peter stiffened, realizing that by acknowledging he knew you put his identity at risk to, and began to babble, "Oh, did I- sorry, you just look like someone I met one time but you're not them so don't worry. My bad, all my bad." 

The rambling with the voice… it all began to connect in your head. "Peter?" 

Peter's blood went cold, "What? No. You must have me confused with someone else." 

"Oh my gosh! Peter Parker, are you Spiderman?" You whisper-yelled to make sure the neighbors couldn't hear. It all made sense. You were casual friends with the boy, both doing Academic Decathlon. Your strength was more computers while he seemed to specialize in engineering but you still had three classes together and just happened to sit by each other in all of them. "All the Decathlons you missed, showing up to school with mysterious injuries, crushing everything in gym class, and the Stark internship! Everything makes sense!" 

He stepped towards you waving his arms desperately, "Shhh you can't tell anyone!" 

You shrugged, looking almost indignantly at him, "Of course, I won't tell. You can't say anything about me either though." Did he really think so low of you? 

"No, no, of course not." He stammered. The room went silent and you both sort of shifted back and forth on your feet. 

Eventually, you gestured to the unconscious man on the floor, "Well, uh, I better finish up with all this. You can stay or go or whatever. But I'm not gonna steal anything so you don't have to worry about actual crimes being committed here if you leave." 

"As if sneaking into a guy's apartment and beating him senseless before stringing him up with rope and stapling a note to his body isn't a crime?" He pointed out, only a hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

Your brows furrowed, "It’s punishing bad guys. You do the same thing!" 

"I know, I know, I was joking!" He defended, making you retreat slightly. You didn't mean to sound hostile, your nerves were just high after being discovered. After a brief pause, he asked ,"So, uh, you need help with that?" Peter gestured to the man, whose face was now swelling immensely 

You shrugged, thinking of the rope in your backpack and knowing it would be easier to let Peter help, with his super strength and all, considering this particular man had to have at least a hundred and fifty pounds on you. Using the moving momentum of someone significantly bigger than you was one thing. Hoisting up the dead weight of one was drastically different. "If you wouldn't mind." 

Peter nodded, almost excited to help. "So where do we begin? This is your thing." 

"Usually I tie them up and threaten them a little. Get a few hits in if I'm feeling generous. Then I staple a list of evidence against them to their chest and run off into the night." You rubbed your neck awkwardly, looking down at the man who was on the ground with twisted lips, "This didn't quite go the way it normally does…" 

Peter thought for a moment, "I think I have an idea." 

***

The coffee shop bustled around the table that you, Ned, MJ, and Peter all sat around. A cup of jasmine tea steamed on the table beside your open AP Chemistry textbook and study guide for the upcoming Decathlon. The group felt comfortable despite it being the first time you'd studied with only them. While you had always been casual friends with all three peers, you hadn't actually started hanging out until recently. That is, until after you and Peter found out about each other's secrets. It was amazing how discovering a friend was a secret vigilante really brought a pair together. 

"How are you doing on the astronomy section, Peter?" Ned asked from across the table, leaning over his AP World History textbook. Each of you had taken a different subject to work on. 

Peter picked up his copy of the study guide, which he'd scribbled notes all over, "Uh, I have all the notes on Titan I could manage from the book and I’m moving onto the gravities of different planets but-" 

"Wait, shh!" MJ silenced the group of you suddenly without explanation. 

"What?" You asked, trying to hear what she was talking about but not hearing anything other than the shop's ambience. 

She pointed up to the TV playing in the far corner that could barely be heard over the constant murmur of voices but the subtitles were easy to read from the close distance. A woman read the newest story from the teleprompter as you all watched, “Breaking news, yet another alleged victim of the Midnight Angel has been found, this time in Jackson Heights. However, this time, there’s a twist. 39 year old Philip Meeks was found strung up hanging between his apartment building and the convenience store across the street, over the middle of the busy road by spiderwebs. This appears to be the work of Spiderman, which has never been seen before at any of the previous crime scenes. Mr. Meeks was found alive and in stable condition with a seven page long list of reported incidents against him, filed by fifteen different men and women claiming to be previous partners of his, stapled to his chest. These accusations range from verbal abuse to sexual assault. 

Mr. Meeks is now in custody and his crimes are being investigated by police. The bigger question now is who is the Midnight Angel? Has this been Spiderman the entire time? Or are they two vigilantes now working together?” 

Her co-anchor turned to her, “Well, Jill, I sure hope we find some answers soon.” 

“Me too.” She agreed, flipping through the papers on her desk. 

There was an awkward moment where you, Peter, and Ned all exchanged a quick knowing glance while MJ’s back was turned. Ned’s eyes got wide when he realized that you were in on everything somehow and his mouth opened in a silent plea for some bit of information. As far as Ned knew, he was the only one who knew about Peter’s secret. What the hell did you have to do with anything? 

MJ turned and let out a heavy sigh, you, Ned, and Peter all quickly returning to a neutral ignorant facade. “I don’t usually look up to people but I think the Midnight Angel is my hero.” 

You snorted, “Why’s that?” You questioned innocently. 

“Why wouldn’t they be? All these twisted sickos out there go around abusing and assaulting people and get away with it because of our victim-blaming ‘justice’ system,” she added air quotes, “It’s about time somebody tracked these fuckers down and made them pay,” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, looking off dreamily, “I think I want to marry them.” 

“You don’t even know who they are.” Ned’s pointed out. 

MJ just waved away the concern, “Don’t care. That’s the energy I need in my life.” 

You just chuckled inwardly to yourself and though, Alright, guess we’re getting married. Peter looked over to you with a similar look, laughing at the same thought himself. 

“So do you guys think it’s all Spiderman?” You asked, just to look less suspicious, though Ned still looked like he was catching on. 

MJ shook her head, “No, not a chance. Why wouldn’t he have used his webs in the other eight attacks then?” Suddenly, she jolted and began scribbling on a notebook page. 

“What are you doing?” Peter peeked over her shoulder to try and decipher the scribbles, failing when MJ’s hair fell to block his view. 

“I’m gonna figure out who they are.” She announced proudly. “Because I know they are not the same person.”

Peter shrugged, panicking internally, “There’s like eight million people in New York City. I don’t think you-” 

“Sure in the whole city but all the attacks have been local to Queens. Same with Spiderman sightings. I’m guessing they live here in Queens, which brings our pool down to like 2 million people. Spiderman is apparently male, which further cuts that number in half, and we don’t know about the Midnight Angel because nobody has ever seen them. From there, we can look at Spiderman’s build and eliminate people who are overweight, underweight, and super tall…” MJ continued rambling on about her masterplan to discover the identities of Spiderman and her new hero, the Midnight Angel. 

You and Peter looked across the table at each other, your leg bouncing nervously. While MJ’s plan seemed ludicrous considering the millions of possibilities she had to sort through, you knew how smart she was. There was a possibility, no matter how slim, that she could actually figure this out. Peter seemed to know this as well. 

Would it be better to come clean now or wait and see if she figured it out? Concerns for the future of the Midnight Angel whirled through your mind but one thing was for sure: regardless of whether or not Ned and MJ found out your secret, the Midnight Angel would never disappear. 

[localhorrornerd]

31 Horror Movies for the Halloween Season

Well.. It’s a little bit over 31 bc of sequels and such but it’s a fun title for horror recs! For the record these are in no particular order in like what’s the best or anything! It’s just a list of horror movie recommendations that might get you in the Halloween mood. I tried not to have huge well-known movies on here, but I did throw in a few just because I love them and couldn’t resist. I did try to add small descriptions for each one, but given there’s like 31 movies on here, they are rather short. Either way, hopefully you’ll find one or a couple movies here that you’re interested in!

1. Trick ‘r Treat

A rather well-known one but is it really a list without Trick ‘r Treat? A fun horror anthology with four different stories that connect to each other in some way - including the fact they all take place on Halloween night! A fun one to actually watch on Halloween.

2. Hell House LLC

For the record there are two sequels (Hell House LLC 2: The Abaddon Hotel & Hell House LLC 3: Lake of Fire), however I have not seen either of them so can’t include them here, but if you want to watch them I’d say go check them out! Basically it’s a documentary style type film that follows what happened up to the days a horrible tragedy took place on the opening night of a haunted house attraction. No one knows exactly what actually went down, so the reason for the documentary is to attempt to figure out what truly happened that night.

3. Repo! The Genetic Opera

A horror musical! It’s set in a future where organ failure is extremely common so naturally a huge company comes along and is like “Okay you can have an organ transplant, but you have a huge payment plan and if you can’t pay then we’re just gonna kill you and take your organs back.” Also it has so many good songs would highly recommend if you haven’t seen it (and you can stomach a bit of gore).

4. The Devil’s Carnival & Alleluia! The Devil’s Carnival

Another horror musical! And done by the same people who did Repo! For the record The Devil’s Carnival is only about an hour long but the sequel is a full length movie! A short quick explanation is that it’s set in Hell (unsurprisingly) and follows the people who end up there - also during this the Devil is planning an attack - but I’ll let you find out the rest if you haven’t seen it yet.

5. Ju-On and/or The Grudge (Any Film)

It’s my favorite horror franchise, so of course Ju-On was gonna end up on here! Whether it be the original Japanese films or the American remakes, it follows vengeful spirits who were murdered in their home and are taking revenge on anyone who enters.

6. Sinister & Sinister 2

Okay I know Sinister 2 is one not very well liked, but since I have seen it I decided I might as well include it (though I don’t really remember my thoughts on it it’s been a while). Video tapes that contain children murdering their families and a mysterious being that may be at the center of it is the basic plot for these movies.

7. Tragedy Girls

Basically you got two best friends who capture a serial killer because they themselves want to become serial killers! Don’t wanna say too much outside of that, as that is the basic plot concept honestly, but it’s a really fun movie.

8. The Final Girls

A girl dealing with the anniversary of her mother’s death ends up, with a small group of others, stuck in a horror movie that her mother actually starred in. Okay as much fun as this one is it does pull on the heart strings a bit I gotta admit. But it’s truly great and naturally has a feel of an older slasher movie.

9. You Might be the Killer

Another one that’s got that older slasher movie vibe as it takes place at a camp. One where the counselors are getting picked off one by one by a masked killer. Comes in our protagonist, who is calling his friend, who isn’t at the camp and also is a huge horror enthusiast, for help to figure out what to do and maybe figure out what’s going on/who the killer is.

10. Danur (aka Danur: I Can See Ghosts)

A young girl who just wants friends finds them in the form of three potentially paranormal ones. Though it seemingly being just a childhood thing, it actually becomes of great importance as she gets older. This movie also has a sequel, Danur 2: Maddah.

11. Fright Night

For the record I am talking about the remake here, as I have not seen the original, but if you would prefer to watch that one - or maybe even both - go for it! Basically, teen starts to believe his new neighbor is a vampire after more and more people go missing. Also David Tennant is there if you go with the remake so that’s always fun!

12. Tales of Halloween

Admittedly I wasn’t too into this film, but I know a lot of people like it! Not too much to say, it’s a horror anthology with 10 different segments that take place on Halloween! So you’re bound to find something you enjoy within it, whether it be the paranormal, witches, or even just dumb fun horror comedy antics.

13. The Tag-Along

Based on an urban legend from Taiwan, “The Little Girl in Red”, it focuses on a man and his girlfriend. Of which the man’s grandmother suddenly goes missing one day - eventually leading to him discovering clues of a potential unknown little girl who had began following his grandmother around. There are two sequels to this movie as well that I have not seen yet, that being The Tag-Along 2 & The Tag-Along: The Devil Fish.

14. Three... Extremes

Another anthology film that contains three separate stories, each one coming from a different East Asian country. It also has a prequel, Three (or 3... Extremes II in the U.S.), and a full length film made from one of the stories within it, Dumplings.

15. The Hallow

Really feel like the point of this movie is like ‘Don’t fuck with the woods’. As it basically focuses on a couple and their baby, who seems to be the target for the odd things happening to them that seems rather connected to the woods nearby.

16. The Devil’s Candy

A man moves with his family into a new home, and slowly begins to feel as though something is possessing him in a sense. That and also the potential fact his family is being targeted by the previous resident of the home.

17. Wake Wood

Apparently FMA did not teach us not to fuck with the dead enough, so here’s a movie about a grieving couple that lost their daughter who move into a town that holds the power to bring someone back from the dead for only 3 days. Unfortunately like FMA, things go horribly wrong (just not... in the same way as FMA).

18. The Cabin in the Woods

College students go out to a cabin in the woods in which things quickly take a turn for the worst. Seems simple enough, but it’s so much more complicated than that - however I won’t be sharing any of those details for those who haven’t watched it yet.

19. Prevenge

A pregnant woman who’s husband has recently passed away, believes that her unborn child wants her to track down and kill everyone who was involved in the accident. An extremely wild but honestly rather fun time.

20. You’re Next

Home invasion, baby! In which everything goes to hell for a family and their partners when masked killers start trying to kill everyone there. Though things take a turn quick and you start to wonder who is really the ones being hunted down here. (A fairly well known one, but I had to recommend it given one of my favorite characters in horror is in this movie)

21. Kuronezumi (aka Black Rat)

Not too much to say here basic plot wise. Six students receive texts from their dead classmate, they follow as the texts ask and go to the school at night, and then start getting targeted by a killer wearing a rat mask.

22. Lights Out

A family potentially being haunted by a creature that only appears when the lights go out? Plus a whole lot of family drama? Always fun truly! It’s also somewhat based off a viral short film of the same name that the director had made before he got to make it a full length film.

23. Absentia

Absolutely had to put a Mike Flanagan movie on here. One that focuses on a pregnant woman who’s started towards attempting to move on with her life after her husband disappeared seven years ago. However, as she takes a huge step towards doing so, something rather odd happens - which I’ll let you find out for yourself if you choose to watch it.

24. Halloween III: Season of the Witch

Perhaps it’s because it’s the one Halloween movie without Michael Myers, or perhaps it’s because I was blanking out on movies I watched that aren’t extremely well-known, but I felt the need to add this one on here. It focuses on this man who is out to kill children on Halloween by using a line of Halloween masks. So basically another fun one to watch on Halloween!

25. The Barn

Teenagers go to a barn where there’s a supposed curse that can awaken Halloween-themed monsters on Halloween night. What could possibly go wrong? Honestly another one that would be a lot of fun to actually watch on Halloween.

26. Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon

A really fun documentary type film where it’s set in a world where iconic horror slashers are actually real! And a documentary crew are out to make a movie centered around Leslie Vernon, who wishes to go down in history as another one of the famous slashers. This one is really just *chef’s kiss* to me, very much recommend if you haven’t seen it.

27. Creep & Creep 2

Found footage type films in which we follow people who are hired by this rather concerning man to film him. That’s really all I can say unfortunately without trying to give away too much.

28. What We Do in the Shadows

Another documentary-style type movie! It tends to be more comedic than it is horror, but it follows  a group of vampires that live together! Sort of documenting their lives and how they survive day by day. Honestly it’s so ridiculous and hilarious, and I know many people have seen it by now but I have to recommend it none the less as it’s one of my favorites. Plus, it also has an equally hilarious tv series now that you can also give a watch!

29. The Banana Splits Movie

Who doesn’t want to see the Banana Splits as animatronics that start randomly slaughtering people after the news that their show is going to be cancelled? Honestly it’s really just a fun, ridiculous movie that isn’t meant to be taken seriously. Perhaps something to watch with friends to get in the mood for Halloween.

30. The Last Exorcism

Another one that has a sequel I have not seen: The Last Exorcism Part II. Another documentary style film (Sorry I added so many of these whoops), that follows a reverend who goes around performing fake exorcisms. Things start getting a bit more complicated though when lines start beginning to blur between what is real and what is fake while doing his current “exorcism” he was asked to perform.

31. V/H/S & V/H/S 2

There is also a third film, V/H/S: Viral, however I have not seen that one. Not too much to say here, they’re basically just an anthology of short horror films that are supposedly being shown from VHS tapes.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Cassandra Jenkins Interview: What I’m Dealing With

BY JORDAN MAINZER

I’ll always remember where I was when I found out David Berman died: on the highway, driving back from a beautiful hike in Southern Illinois, unable to pull over and look up exactly what happened, instead occupied by my own thoughts. Singer-songwriter Cassandra Jenkins processed his death in a similar mind’s isolation, though she was closer to Berman than many. Set to play in his Purple Mountains band and finding herself mourning and grieving mere days later, she had to make a change. Her old songs didn’t feel appropriate; she had to write about her loss. She got on a plane to Norway and starting writing what would become An Overview on Phenomenal Nature, her remarkable new record out next Friday on Ba Da Bing! Records.

An Overview on Phenomenal Nature is not so much a record about Berman’s death as it is one about processing things that are out of your control. Yes, he’s mentioned by name, and Jenkins’ self-described “diaristic” details refer to her story, like on “Ambiguous Norway”, where her Purple Mountains tour outfit comes in the mail and she looks at it wondering what could have been. But the album’s a document of a period in Jenkins’ life rife with general change and her responses to it. Knowing she’d need some songs she could feel good getting up and singing for an opening tour for The Hold Steady’s Craig Finn, after writing in Norway, Jenkins returned to New York to flesh out the new tunes with multi-instrumentalist, producer, and engineer Josh Kaufman. The songs are rich, but simple, leaving space for Jenkins’ matter-of-fact singing and storytelling with efficient instrumentation. On “New Bikini”, she considers how much immersing oneself in nature as a healing force really helps, thinking out loud about Berman over acoustic strumming and Stuart Bogie’s layered saxophone. “Michelangelo” is an alt-country ripper about the eternal limbo of dealing with trauma, Jenkins comparing it to a virus (“Treatable, not curable”). The epic “Hard Drive” starts with a voice memo of a tour at The Met Breuer as Jenkins reflects on different people in her life that have affected her, big and small, spoken word over Bogie’s sax; “The mind is just a hard drive,” she posits, storing information, unknowing of when a small moment might just turn profound. It’s these small moments--interactions with strangers, birdwatching in Central Park--that pepper An Overview on Phenomenal Nature and simultaneously prove to be further artistic fodder for Jenkins, a sort of symbiotic relationship of inspiration.

When I call Jenkins from her home in upstate New York, it’s clear she’s still embracing these small moments, especially as ways to cope with the push-pull of change. She had just come back from a walk in the woods and was considering going again after we were finished. “Walking has been the thing that gets me through everything right now, especially if you can find a little patch of nature wherever you are,” she said. Gearing up to release an album after being in essential isolation for a year due to COVID-19, Jenkins released “Hard Drive” on January 20th and was surprised by its rapturous response, as it landed on best-of-the-month lists and garnering a coveted Pitchfork Best New Track designation. Now, she’s receiving a slew of interview and live stream performance requests, balancing between being outwardly social and retreating to her isolation. She gets through it with her walks, and talking to friends, including those who work at Ba Da Bing!, fully aware that the significance of any given instant may or may not immediately present itself.

Read my conversation with Jenkins below, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: Is it weird to put out a new record at this moment in time?

Cassandra Jenkins: It is very weird, [but] I’m very fortunate. There’s no part of me that’s bummed out that my record is coming out during COVID. It’s really the opposite--this is the most I’ve been in touch with people this entire time. It’s so nice to be feeling connected to people through my music. I feel like this record is different than my other records. I don’t feel precious about it. It has launching pads for conversations. We’ve put out two songs so far, and it’s reached more people than I thought it would ever reach--it’s been really wonderful but also overwhelming, to go from spending all of my time very alone, in complete solitude, to hearing from a lot of people in my life I admire and who I feel shy around because I look up to them so much. I’m having this very strange cognitive dissonance of being totally alone and getting really comfortable with that, to talking to a lot of people. It’s sort of like being in two completely different gears at once.

SILY: Was it the Pitchfork review of “Hard Drive” that caused a lot of that?

CJ: Yeah. I blame Pitchfork. [laughs]. Those rascals! They’re blowing up my solitude. But yeah, Pitchfork was very unexpected, especially right now. I was set to put this [album] out in the spring [of 2020] on Bandcamp. But I’m thankful that this record is coming out at this moment in time. A lot of the record is about processing a difficult moment in my life. I think a lot of people are in that moment in their lives for a lot of different reasons. Oddly, though it’s very personal, it seems to be resonating with people. Had I talked to you a week ago, I think it would have been a different conversation. But the music stays the same. I’m feeling really excited by it but overwhelmed by any amount of attention, to be honest. Hearing from a few friends would be overwhelming at this point because I’m so alone. [laughs] I can’t underline that enough. We all are. It’s bizarre.

SILY: David Berman’s death was the catalyst for this record, but is it the focal point of the loss that comprises the record? Or did it inspire you to reflect on past losses and trauma?

CJ: That’s a good question. While it’s the catalyst, I wouldn’t say it’s the center of the record. It’s what launched me into this moment in my life, where I thought things were gonna be one way, and then they were not. And then they changed again. And then they changed again. A lot of rapid change in my life, and writing the record was partly out of necessity. I was planning on going on tour with the Purple Mountains band, coming home, and then going on another tour opening for Craig Finn. I was gonna play my songs I had in the bag. Once my tour got cancelled, I couldn’t play my old songs anymore. I’m really obsessed with Tig Notaro, and I heard her talk about what it was like getting a breast cancer diagnosis, and getting up on stage telling [old jokes], she just couldn’t do it. She had no choice but to write about what she’s going through. I’ve listened to her so much through this pandemic because I find her spirit and general approach really inspiring. In a similar way, I had that moment in my life, too, where I was like, “I can’t get up here and play these songs anymore.” So I wrote it all really quickly, partly so I could go on tour and sing songs I could actually sing. I tried--I booked a show at one point a month after [Berman’s death], in September, and I tried to play my songs and ended up completely abandoning them and doing this weird, pseudo stand-up set. [laughs] It was definitely not good, and after that show, I was like, “I definitely cannot get up and do this every night on tour.” I really respect Craig, and I’m not gonna open his shows this way. I had to write new songs. I have this thing, which is a tour, and what I’m doing on this tour is singing songs, and I need that, so I’m gonna make new songs.

SILY: Did you do stripped down, acoustic versions of these tracks from this record, opening for Craig?

CJ: Yes. And Craig has a great saxophonist in his band, Nelson Devereaux. Usually, it’s Stuart who plays on the record, but this was this [Nelson], and he ended up joining me for my set near the end of the tour. I usually end up playing things a little differently every night. I’ve never been too streamlined about what I do. I like staying on my toes. Usually, by the end of the tour, I’ve collected a musician or two playing with me. I was glad to have a saxophonist, because these songs have a lot of saxophone.

SILY: There are a lot of biographical moments and specific references to David on here and what happened. In the songwriting, how did you balance those more concrete moments with broader metaphors about what you were going through?

CJ: Except for “Michelangelo”, which was the only song I had worked on before, so it’s kind of an outlier, I was pulling from my journal and from my song journal and voice memos. Things I had written on scrap paper and on the subway on the way to the studio. It was very much a sound art kind of process of pulling together pieces and fragments of a lot of different moments from a very short period of my life. I was really just processing what I had been through, and what I had been through was this brush with playing with a band that was a dream come true and meeting this person I felt immediately attached to. It was strange to only know him for 4 days and have so much of my life really change. Total strangers can have that effect on me. I think that’s what I was taking away from a lot of my observations at the time: You can have very brief encounters with people that will dramatically change how you see the world. It’s a chemistry that can happen if you’re in the right mindset. They [can] say something to you that can be transformative. I’m not always looking for that. I walk into it. It’s really profound, and they’re not really trying to do that. David is one of those people, and he’s so much more than that. It’s very strange to be writing about someone who was such a brilliant writer and feeling, “I don’t feel like I have any business writing about this person, except in the way they affected me.” That’s my experience, and that’s my experience alone. I can write about that experience, but it still felt strange at the end of the day with anything outside of my direct experience of this person, because it feels really silly to think about approaching him or his work any other way. 

SILY: The emotional centerpiece of the record to me is “Ambiguous Norway”. You reference your tour outfit coming in the mail, and you’re never able to use it.

CJ: It was super weird. We all wore our suits to some of the memorials that happened

SILY: There’s a line on there that sounds like something David would have written: “The poetry, it’s not lost on me / I’m left asking how it found me.” I was interviewing someone else yesterday who had an album coming out about various types of loss, and on it, she questions how much meaning there is in loss. At what point do you stop trying to find meaning in it and accept the chaos or randomness of it? Is that something you were thinking about here?

CJ: Yeah! I feel totally inadequate so much of the time with language. It feels impossible to translate the bizarre and exquisite experiences and naturally occurring events in my life that might be brief and fleeting. How do you encapsulate that in language? It feels impossible. It’s just everywhere around me, and it will go just as quickly as it came. Sometimes, grief and loss, which may not have inherent meaning, can activate a certain way of seeing in us that allows us to see meaning everywhere, and it’s this manic, supercharged way of looking for meaning in everything. I’ve had other tragic losses in my life in the past. I remember a high school friend’s mother came to me at a funeral once and came to me and said, “There’s nothing like someone dying to make you feel alive.” There’s that element of it that turns you on to things in a heightened way. I was in that heightened mourning space and also travelling. When I got home, I felt like I was seeing everything through the lens of a traveler, observing my surroundings with so much more open space. It reminds me of reading Michael Pollan’s book on How to Change Your Mind. [When you take psychedelics], your inhibitors are knocked down in this new way. Extreme experiences like grief and loss can have that effect as much as they can also be painful. I think I was just in that space of seeing meaning and seeing connections between things and feeling blown away and not knowing what to do with them. I was like, “I am just gonna let this wash over me.” Only I can really see this harmony, and it’s pointless to explain it to someone else. It feels like I’m the only one that can make sense of it in a particular way and feel tickled by it, for lack of a better word. To feel a sensation of two things coming together in front of you.

One thing I was thinking about was this conversation I had with someone when I was out in Norway. Here I am, sitting on a dock by myself, almost at the edge of the ocean. I was writing my journal about my experience with David--it hadn’t even been a week. This Danish fellow rolls up and starts talking to me about clouds and how in Denmark, the cloud formations there look like mountains, partly because they don’t have a mountainous landscape, so they get to have the mountain feeling from the clouds. He said it in a much more poetic way, but I was thinking, “This guy doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know what I’ve gone through. Here he is talking about mountains turning into clouds, and David’s middle name is Cloud. Like, what?” Then Katie Von Schleicher texted me this cartoon that David had done. It was the drawing of a house that said “Ambiguous Norway” at the bottom. In the middle of having this uncanny conversation with a stranger, and she sends me this cartoon, it’s all this swirling stuff. I was really overwhelmed, but it was really funny, also. I felt like I didn’t know what to do with any of it, and I was writing it all down, but feeling like I was always falling short. It was isolating, but I didn’t feel alone--I was dissolving into whatever atmosphere and landscape I was in.

SILY: Your mention of the stranger reminds me of the line in “Crosshairs”: “All I want is to fall apart in the arms of someone entirely strange to me.” Of course, post-COVID, people might look at that line and think you might miss being around people.

CJ: I thought about that. It could totally read that way now!

SILY: You also have the line about a virus on “Michelangelo”.

CJ: That freaked me out, too. It does feel strangely prescient. I felt squeamish putting out a song like that. Right before COVID hit, the last performance I saw was Renee Fleming singing Bjork’s "Virus” with an orchestra. It was so beautiful and so surreal. It’s not the first time that someone’s dropped a metaphor about a virus in the song, but it’s still weird it’s on there.

SILY: Is it possible to understand this record without knowing the context?

CJ: I hope so. It’s strangely diaristic. I’ve always thought that we should be able to appreciate any art, whether a watercolor or a piece of music, without knowing the context. There are works of art that of course are incredible when you appreciate everything around them, like the footnotes of T.S. Eliot. Reading it for the first time, and how much context there is, this deep web, and how great it is to get into that person’s world and mind. But I appreciate art most when you can walk up to it and appreciate it as is, and learning more about it might deepen your appreciation if you’re curious. The fact that something deeply personal can be appreciated without context, if it’s coming from a real place. I’m embarrassed to think that it would have to be dependent on the context. I hope there’s both a reverence for the experience I went through as well as realizing there’s one of many experiences, and maybe the experience I had of running into someone at the farmer’s market can be at equal weight when thinking about our lives and the way we take things in.

SILY: We haven’t yet touched on the instrumentation of the record; it’s so layered and beautiful. How did you and Josh approach complementing your words with arrangements and instrumentation?

CJ: That was very intuitive. Josh is an incredible musician. We were just playing with stuff in the studio. We knew we wanted to get Stuart Bogie in there on the saxophone, and he also plays the flute. It’s actually kind of a stripped down record compared to my last one. I thought I was gonna go into the studio and walk out with an acoustic guitar and a vocal, and that would be the record. But we started playing with things, and Josh was playing with things while I was on my way to the studio in the morning, and suddenly there’s fretless bass on it! We’re both like, “Man, I love that!” It was never going in with an expectation and working with someone who I really trust. Josh and I really worked on these songs together. It was always guided by a lyric and a lyrical structure already in place. It kind of reminded me of working with soft clay: taking something out, putting something in. Versus walking in with a slab of marble and chipping away at it, which my last record was a little bit more like.

SILY: “Michelangelo” was started before this record, but I really am intrigued by the contrast you pose in it about the three-legged dog in the song: “Looking for what I lost” versus “Working with what I got.” Do you think that dichotomy is exemplary of the entire record?

CJ: That’s funny. I didn’t think of those things as being on polar sides of the spectrum. It’s a metaphor that’s kind of funny to me, because it falls apart when you see a three-legged dog. They’re not looking for what they lost. They’ve adjusted their gait. They’re such a beautiful model for what it is to lose something, work around it, and build balance. They do that naturally in their physiology and psychology, and they’re playing frisbee just like every other dog as if nothing happened. Of course, some of them do have mobility issues--I’ve met a few more [of those] recently. But it’s the human experience to add so much aversion to any feeling of loss. You have that analogy of getting shot with an arrow, and it’s often in our nature to shoot another arrow into the same wound by saying, “Oh my god, I can’t believe I was shot by an arrow,” instead of mending to it.

I have some medical issues, and I often am really frustrated by feeling like I’m handicapped. All of us have to face at some point or another the limitations of our bodies. To feel, “This is what I’m dealing with.” I can either be frustrated that I’m not a perfect specimen, or I can work with it. I can be myself and just enjoy that self as long as I get to live on this earth, amidst all this chaos and imperfection and wonder. That’s what “Michelangelo” is about for me, and feeling similarly about trauma. “Gosh, if I hadn’t had this traumatic experience as a child, maybe I’d be President of the United States by now, but instead I have all these bad habits because I have this deep, limiting self-belief.” But coming back, I’m like, “My trauma is actually a portal for me to connect with people and myself and get closer to a more universal experience. That’s a great gift, and I have to work with that.” That whole song is me being, “God damnit, why am I imperfect in this way?” but it’s actually the thing that will teach me more than anything.

SILY: On “New Bikini”, you sing a lot about the water. Do you find the water to be a particularly healing thing to be in or by?

CJ: Yeah. I was born right next to the ocean. [But] that song is not totally sincere. It’s a little bit of me collecting advice from people that at times brought me solace and at times was frustrating. It’s like, “Hey, get in the ocean, it will make you feel better!” “Yeah, but it’s not gonna bring someone back from the dead, and it’s not gonna fix my DNA, and it’s not gonna heal this person.” At the same time, it’s going to help me. I’m taking mineral salt baths every night and finding them to be really healing for my nervous system and thinking about that song. [laughs] I also ironically got very sick on contaminated water at the very beginning of 2020 and hated that song for a minute, as I was feeling really dejected about water. When I play that song on tour, I love that there were people in the audience who heard it, and came up to me after the show and said, “I never feel better than I do when I’m by the ocean. Thank you. I love being by the water, and that song took me there, even though we’re in Dallas.” This middle-aged woman was able to think about her really good time being at the beach. [And I’m thinking,] “I’m happy this is a space for you that you can access and that we can access together.”

SILY: When did you realize you wanted to release “Hard Drive” on Inauguration Day?

CJ: It was logical timing for when the release date was, and I saw it was on Inauguration Day and questioned whether it was a good idea. But it is a good idea because the song embraces change and struggle and a moment of time where we can pause and breathe because there’s change happening. It’s been a tough time for a lot of people. If we can talk about that, then great! It was really nice on Inauguration Day to have a song come out and not really pay attention to it. I actually felt, “All of America is having the same experience right now.” Really, the whole world is looking on. To get to experience again, very alone, a universal experience, watching the shift of power happen. I’m not really sure I love attention--I think I’ve always been way more comfortable not having attention--so I really loved, “Hey, here’s this song, gotta go, let’s watch the President now!” There was something about that moment. That people got to hear it days after the Inauguration because the type of people that gravitate towards my music were experiencing a collective relief. We could actually take a breath. So it may have reached people in a way it might not have otherwise. I didn’t realize how much it would be felt or how much I’d be feeling that day. I cried a lot that day. I think a lot of people did.

SILY: Is “Hailey” named after the actress you mention in the song, Hailey Gates?

CJ: [laughs] Yeah. I had a song called “Halley” on my last record, and I wanted to make a follow-up Halley. Halley 2.0. The other one was written by my friend Ian, and it’s a love song for the comet. So I figured I would write a love song for Hailey Gates. She’s a friend of mine and is someone I’ve often thought of when I’m going through a difficult moment, like, “You know what? That woman is so incredibly powerful in everything she does.” I look up to her so much, and I don’t think she really knows how much I look up to her. When I got really sick from drinking contaminated water, I would think that Hailey was a reporter for several years of her life, traveling, getting food poisoning, and still managing to get her message across with such grace and gusto. She has a real grit to her I admire. Grit is something that I look for in people. The fact that she has that and is also stunningly beautiful and very feminine is a cool model. I also like the challenge of writing a platonic love song and writing about another woman and letting it be about celebrating someone. In the end, it was nice to have this contrast: Mourning, but celebrating people who are alive and inspire us while we’re here. I feel kind of bad: if someone wrote that song about me, I’d be really embarrassed. I felt a little bit of shyness about it. But I hope it’s just a sweet way to celebrate women in general, and she’s sort of my mascot in that moment. Women who are really smart and powerful and have this gentleness about them as well. She’s got all these qualities that are really striking. She’s a really brilliant person. She deserves to have a million songs written about her. I’m probably one of many.

SILY: Has she heard yours?

CJ: [laughs] Yeah, she has. I think she got embarrassed. I finally sent it to her a few weeks ago, and was like, “Hey, I’m putting out a record and wrote a song about you, I hope that’s okay.” She said she was really honored to be on the record. I also reached out to Lola Kirke, and she joked, “Why didn’t I get a song about me? I just got a mention on ‘Hard Drive’.”

SILY: In the lyrics sheet for [instrumental] “The Ramble”, you have a link to a YouTube video of Chris Cooper birding in Central Park.

CJ: The Ramble is a place I went very much every day at the beginning of the pandemic. I was really saddened by the story of Chris Cooper but really impressed by the way that he handled it. I really thought of him as a role model for how we can handle intolerance. There are a lot of ways to handle intolerance and ignorance, and the way that he handled ignorance in that moment I thought was so beautiful. That interview with him is great because it’s really more about him and how he relates to birding and what a great person he is as opposed to the hatred we could walk away from the story with. He really shifted the emphasis away from behavior that was ignorant and racist towards a conversation of tolerance. He exemplified that. It’s rare you see that. I found him to be really inspiring. That’s one of so many things that happens in “The Ramble”. It was added later on. I recorded “The Ramble” when a lot of the protests were happening in New York. I went from being in The Ramble [alone] every day and birdwatching, which is something I do in a meditative way that really grounds me...to me going to some of the protests. I watched Central Park really transform into this place of progress, I guess, but it also has this life at night, known for nefarious things like drug deals, sex. It’s this wild place that I was starting to see as my sanctuary. When I saw the Chris Cooper story come out, it really saddened me, because the birding community was something I thought of as untouched. It’s so pure and beautiful. I’d seen Chris many times, and I was really sad someone treated him the way they did, and to see how in that moment that story became really important because there was a broader story happening in the public eye. He had this moment to be himself.

So “The Ramble” isn’t as much about him as about me wandering. Janet Cardiff is an artist I really love. She has a Central Park walk you can go on. It’s an audio guide that she made. It’s a poetic collage of songs and history. It really transforms the way you hear. I originally recorded my own binaural audio guide to The Ramble and ended up taking it out. I realized, “Ok, this is an album and there might be someone in Australia listening to it. How can they enjoy this walk? It’s probably better without me narrating how to walk in the space.” But it originally had this timed narrative with a start and end where you’d go on a walk with me. The ghost of that narration is there, and it’s ended up instead a spatial experience--hopefully.

SILY: The record ends with these two lighter tracks, a tribute to a friend and to a place. Was it important for you to order the album such that you talk about the loss in the beginning but it ends on this different note?

CJ: Definitely with “The Ramble”. I made every other song before COVID. I wanted “The Ramble” to exemplify how much life has changed for everyone since these songs were written. I wanted to bring it into the world we’re in now. And I want to bring it into a world with peace and hope in it. Those are two big words that are corny sounding, but I want there to be a moment for you to find peace and tranquility in a world of chaos. It is still there, and it’s okay for you to take that for yourself. Not only can we find that peace within ourselves, but we can find beauty in it and admire our surroundings. We can still appreciate everything we’re given, even in a total crisis. The Ramble was a place for me where I’d find that every day. I’d wake up at 5 in the morning every day and look at birds and feel myself vanishing in that landscape in this tiny corner of nature. I wanted to leave everyone on that note: Nature is gonna figure this out. It’s gonna take over and come in through the cracks in the sidewalk. If I can end the record with the dandelion coming through the cracks in the sidewalk, I’d like it to be there.

SILY: What’s the story behind the album art?

CJ: That’s by my friend [Ole Brodersen]. He thought it was an interesting photograph. He’s the one in “New Bikini” that I’m visiting and he left me a post-it note that said, “Get in the water, it cures everything.” He’s a good friend of mine. We visit each other every few years. I love his work; he’s an incredible photographer and has a large-format photography darkroom he created, on an island, off the coast of Norway. In this photograph, he uses long exposures and kites. He plays with light in natural landscapes around where he lives, with this kind of unknown element in a really static environment. It’s hard for me to speak for him, but he likes to have a lot of control over his photography, and this beautiful landscape is his origin, and there’s this element of an unknown variable in all of his photographs. I looked at that photo as a beautiful example of what I’m talking about in “Ambiguous Norway”. It’s almost like there’s this intangible spirit that’s this element of poetry in the air that you can’t quite identify what it is. It’s almost a literal interpretation of that, where you see this floating magical orb in the middle.

He was such a wonderful host. When he wanted to give his partner a gift--he wanted to give her a down pillow--he shot the ducks himself, created the down pillow, and I ended up eating a bone broth made out of the bones of those ducks at some point in his house. I was like, “This is really living in your environment and thinking about the way you interact with people and objects and your environment around you.” If I can touch a fraction of that, I’m doing great.

SILY: Are you planning on playing these songs live?

CJ: I am getting a lot of calls now to do stuff online. I would love to play with a band in real life. I think about it every day. I didn’t realize how much I was going to miss playing live. I can’t wait to put a band together. I have all these different fantasy leagues in my head of which band I’d want to bring with me on tour. If this record has any kind of positive reception, I’d love to be able to pay my band really well, finally, after years of not being able to and my friends coming on tour with me because we like being with each other. I realize I can’t do that forever, and we need to make a living. That would be so great. It’s a dream of mine.

SILY: Have you thought about how you’re adapting the songs to the stage? Or is that dependent on the configuration of the band?

CJ: I think the songs are pretty flexible. “New Bikini” is only 2 chords. The songs themselves are really simple. My last record has fancy stuff. This one is “A” and “B” and that’s the whole song! I love songs where it doesn’t matter who is there and what instruments are playing, as long as we listen to each other, the song will just flow. It’ll depend on whether I’m opening for someone, how much I can afford, what feels good in the moment. I think they’re gonna take their own shape.

SILY: Is there anything else next for you in the short or long term future?

CJ: I have to be honest. I’m having a lot of anxiety because I feel like when I’m able to do things again, I’m not really ready for that yet. But I’m going to be. I feel like there are certain dreams I have about getting to play music. I’m working towards being capable of seeing those dreams come true. I hope that my health is in a good place and my mental health is in a good place. It’s been a really hard year for all of us, and I want to make sure I can be easy on myself as I ease back into the world. As much as I want to go to a party, I actually will need a lot of gradual time to ease back into the world again and process the path. We’re all going through a lot right now.

SILY: Is there anything you’ve been listening to or reading or watching lately?

CJ: I’m reading a book called The Peregrine. It’s one of Werner Herzog’s favorite books. It’s really cool. The author is English, and he’s studying birds to the extent that he almost becomes them. He talks about transmutation of landscapes and clouds and birds in a way that I was like, “Oh my god! He’s drinking the same tea I am.” But he takes it to an extreme degree where he’s questioning his sanity--and you might be questioning mine, too, at this point. [laughs]

I was just listening to Caroline Shaw. I’ve been listening to Tig Notaro’s podcast. I wait for it every week. It comes out every Wednesday, so today was my lucky day. [laughs]

[pancake-man]

i’m already cursed

This is my Pinescone Secret Santa for Pamela @ladynightmare12 ! She gave me the prompt Fairytale and I instantly knew what to do. I’ve been wanting to write something for this song for so long! Thanks so much, I hope you enjoy it!

Here it is on Ao3!

Story below the readmore!

Lyrics and Inspiration: Fairytale by Alexander Rybak

Years ago, when I was younger,

I kinda liked a girl I knew.

She was mine, and we were sweethearts.

That was then, but then it's true.

Two children, hair wild around their heads like messy halos, dirt clinging to the edges of their clothes and mud stuck between their toes. Smiles on their faces growing as wide as their eyes at each new thing. A stick bug looking for food. A deer stepping lightly through a forest. The call of a bird, shrill and loud above the gentle sounds of the forest.

Dipper’s cap is long forgotten. He doesn’t need to hide, not out here. His birthmark is clearly visible, freckles in an odd pattern, connected by a shaky line of pen. Wirt says he looks cool.

And Wirt, forever cold, even with the warm sun beating down on their backs, closed up in his cape. The ends are frayed and covered in burs, but the blue stands out brilliantly against all the green. Dipper doesn’t ask. It’s not important.

It’s a summer of laughter and running wildly through the woods, shouting Catch me, catch me! And hiding in thickets. Neither of them wants to leave.

But growing up is impossible to avoid, and both have their responsibilities. Dipper packs up his gap-toothed grin and Wirt abandons his dissonant laughter. The wind is ready for winter, and they say see you later!  instead of goodbye. 

I'm in love with a fairytale

Even though it hurts.

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind.

I'm already cursed.

Sometimes Wirt is there. Sometimes he isn’t. Dipper is thirteen, his voice hoarse from changing hormones and from screaming into the silence hoping for some kind of response. He thinks he sees blue through the leaves, but it’s the sky, and he wants to give up.

A childhood of silly games and happy giggles is a fading memory. Dipper wonders if he dreamed it. 

The awkward smile seems like a curse, haunting him at the back of his mind when he wonders what he did wrong.

Dipper has never been one for sitting around doing nothing, so instead he does something. He picks himself up and starts writing. He documents the way the temperature seems to drop around certain parts of the wood. He illustrates in rapidly-improving style the odd twists of the trees. He finds the money for a library computer pass and does whatever research he can. Maybe he doesn’t have time for anything else. He knows it’s worth it.

Every day we started fighting,

Every night we fell in love.

No one else could make me sadder,

But no one else could lift me high above.

Dipper is fifteen. Two years of research have given him a book of matches and bags beneath his eyes. The forest seems colder than he remembers when he steps into it for the first time this summer. Nine months of seasons and he still knows where each root and rock is, carefully making his way to the center even when he can’t see his feet.

The match casts shadows over the trees around him, turning the knotted wood into pained, twisted bodies, calling out for his help. Dipper isn’t there for them.

He steps closer to Wirt’s favorite tree, a towering mess of tangled limbs and leaves. The blaze of the match is nothing compared to the blaze of his eyes. 

“Please,” comes the voice from behind him. Dipper spins around, his match extinguishing. In the shadows he can only make out the vague shape of a cloak. “Don’t do this,” the voice whispers.

“Why not?” Dipper asks, arms crossed because even if he can’t see Wirt, he knows Wirt can see him, and it’s important that Wirt know how pissed he is. 

There’s a pause. “You know what I am, then?”

“I have an idea,” Dipper says, and it’s so hard to keep malice in his tone when Wirt sounds like that. 

Wirt sighs and his shadow melts a bit. “I’m sorry, I couldn't-”

“Sorry?” Dipper interrupts. He actually wasn’t expecting an apology. “You abandoned me. You lied to me!”

“Lied? I never-”

“‘See you later’, that’s what you said. It’s later, Wirt! And I can’t even see you!” Wirt’s outline shrinks a bit. “I want more than ‘I’m sorry’, now. I want an explanation.”

The silence of the forest becomes deafening for a long moment. Dipper has to cover his ears, and then Wirt is speaking again. “Come again tomorrow, in the day. I’ll… explain what I can.”

“No,” Dipper pulls his hands from his ears. “Everything.”

“...Right. Everything.”

I don't know what I was doing

When suddenly we fell apart.

Nowadays I cannot find her,

But when I do, we'll get a brand new start.

Wirt isn’t there the next day. Or the next. Dipper’s research stagnates, and then one of his journals is lost when a leak in the ceiling soaks the pages beyond legibility. He’s seventeen and walking through the forest when he should be somewhere, anywhere else. He’s given up on seeing Wirt, but something about the air still calms him the way Wirt’s smile always did.

Dipper is eighteen, nineteen, twenty. Every summer he still goes back to the forest. He talks out loud to the rabbits, the raccoons, the birds. He tells them about his life, how he’s doing, asks if they could please let Wirt know he’s okay. Dipper is studying mythology now. He wants to be a researcher. The things he found on his hunt for Wirt lit something within him, and he regrew his passion into something more… productive. Dipper sits on a log, his head in his hands.

“Please, Wirt, I don’t…” Maybe he’s finally going crazy, talking to open air like this. “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand, but I want to. I miss you. Wirt..” 

Dipper imagines the hand on his shoulder, and dreams the cold comfort he gets from it.

I'm in love with a fairytale

Even though it hurts.

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind.

I'm already cursed.

The forest is no place for a home, not for him. Not for someone whose clothes and hair and mannerisms are all manufactured, manmade, fake. But Dipper stays close, his useless degree at least getting him a job as a forester. He clears fallen trees, checks on the wildlife, chases away hunters(not that the forest needed any help with the last one) and more than anything, he talks to Wirt.

Occasionally Dipper needs extra cash, and he’ll venture into town for odd jobs. The people trust him with their work and nothing else. The crazy man who talks to the trees he lives with. Dipper is fine with that reputation. 

And with time, he’s happy. The forest is calming and protective of him. People are difficult and scary. More and more of his home leaves the grid, until he’s surviving on rainwater and old logs for firewood. He knows Wirt keeps him safe. Wirt is the one who leads him home when the skies darken, or to bushes full of berries when he’s hungry. Maybe he can’t see Wirt, but he’s there, in the trees and in Dipper’s heart.

She's a fairytale, yeah.

Even though it hurts.

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind.

I'm already cursed.

Dipper hardly notices as he becomes more and more a part of the forest. Leaves in his bed in the morning likely blew through the cracked ceiling, or twigs caught in his hair are from midnight walks through the wood. 

His face sags with content wrinkles and his hands grow knobby. Checking on the trees becomes painful as his joints creak and scream. He fashions a cane from a branch left on his doorstep. Pamphlets advertising retirement are promptly burned. Dipper is old, and in love, and happy.

Soon it isn’t skinned rabbits or firewood on his doorstep. It’s Wirt, his age indeterminate. He’s older than Dipper remembers, though he has the body of a young twenty-something. The only tell of his true age are the bags hanging heavy beneath his eyes.

“You came back,” Dipper says.

“I said I would,” Wirt replies.

“It’s time then?”

Wirt nods. “Is there anything you’d like to say goodbye to?”

Dipper looks about at his home, a rundown cabin on the brink of collapse, nestled on the edge of the forest he loves so much. “No.”

Wirt hums, sways awkwardly. “Are you ready?”

Dipper smiles, and seeing this Wirt relaxes. He smiles back.

Two men, boys, friends, lovers, soulmates meet in an embrace as warm as the sun and strong as the trees. Years of waiting, loving, proving themselves worthy. 

The townsfolk tell stories of the crazy old man who protected the forest. He talked to the trees, they say, and one day he disappeared. His body was never found. The people know the rules: Never enter the forest alone. Never hurt a living being within the forest. Never disrespect the trees. 

[straykidsupdate]

Stray Kids on Growing Up, Taking More Creative Risks, and Dealing with Self-Doubt

Stray Kids are following their own path. And that reluctance to play by anyone else's rules is precisely what makes this group of teens and young adults stand out. They've been releasing some of the boldest tracks in K-pop since making their debut with the blistering "District 9" a year ago, a song that harnessed their teen angst into a dizzying mix of hip-hop, rock, and EDM and quickly established them as rookie group to watch.

It's their ability to channel that raw emotion into their music that has resonated with fans all over the world, many of whom are on the cusp of adulthood themselves. As such, the group's signature sound can't be contained in a single genre; it's more of a state of being — a deeply earnest one.

"Stray Kids music is music that's relatable and can help you out when you're having a hard time," leader Bang Chan tells MTV News over the phone from Seoul, where the group is preparing to embark on their first solo U.S. tour. Though, he quick to add, "It's got a lot of energy, doesn't it?"

And nowhere is that empathy and energy more apparent than on their latest single, "Miroh." Inspired by the word miro, or "maze" in Korean, the boisterous track — produced by members Bang Chan, Han, and Changbin, otherwise known as 3racha — is a cacophony of sounds, rhythms, chants, and animal noises. The hook is massive, a perfect stadium-sized banger that shows off the group's grit and potential. "It’s not hard / in this rough jungle," Bang Chan sings. "It was me who ran into it / I'm okay."

"'Miroh' was a really big attempt," the 21-year-old singer and producer said. "It shows that as we're getting older we tend to take more risks and try out new experiences, challenge ourselves."

And as members Bang Chan, Woojin, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and I.N grow and mature, so does their music. Their previous I Am... series focused heavily on the theme of identity through the teenage perspective. Who am I? Who am I trying to be? And does everyone feel scared and aimless like I do sometimes? With their most recent release, Clé 1: Miroh, it's clear that these questions are still at the forefront of their minds — and they're facing them head-on, charging into adolescent uncertainty with newfound confidence and perspective that comes when you enter your twenties. And of course, a bit of bravado. Their song "Boxer" opens with a cheeky declaration: "Hello, I’m a young man who can fly anywhere."

Within that "long but short kind of period" since their debut, Stray Kids have released four EPs and one pre-debut mixtape, all of which have been primarily written and produced by the members themselves. While 3racha have shaped the majority of the group's discography, all nine members are credited writers and encouraged to contribute to the production.

"The fact that we make our own music is one of [our] biggest weapons because that way it's a bit more genuine," Bang Chan said. "It's the message that we form and want to send everyone."

"It's much easier to express ourselves and express how we feel to the fans," rapper, and fellow Aussie, Felix added. "It's way more honest as well," Bang Chan concluded. "It's really important to Stray Kids."

That creative ethos starts with Bang Chan, who put the group together when they were trainees under Korea's JYP Entertainment. (The Stray Kids logo is even written in his handwriting.) Fans were first introduced to the Australia-raised leader on the group's survival program, aptly titled Stray Kids. Over the course of 10 episodes, Stray Kids — then teenagers with big dreams  — underwent teamwork challenges and regular evaluations for the chance to debut together as a group. The series documented the nine individuals as they prepared their blustery pre-debut song "Hellevator," producing and practicing around the clock for a dream that was never very certain. In fact, members Felix and Lee Know were originally eliminated from the project but were ultimately brought back in the final episode, giving even more meaning to the phrase "nine or none."

The group's nonstop pace didn't slow down after their debut, either. If anything, the desire to create and funnel their questions into their music got even stronger because of their fans (called STAY).

As such, they're always creating. And when they feel stuck, they resort to the kinds of distractions you might expect from a group of young men: fresh air, movies (Creed), and anime (One Piece) for Bang Chan; video games and EDM music for Felix, who added, "I've been listening to 'My Pace' a lot."

"I'm always on my laptop trying to make new stuff, whenever we have free time," Bang Chan said. "On the plane as well. I make a lot of music on the plane. I remember I worked on 'I Am You' on the plane to New York last year. And we did use a bit of it, so it was pretty good."

Of course, with that comes its own unique kind of pressure. "There's that feeling of, 'Will people like this music? Will our fans like this music? Will STAYs like this music?' Sometimes, that can get into our heads," he said. "Trying to satisfy everyone is going to be an eternal challenge." Trying to do so while keeping up with the furious pace Stray Kids' set in their first year is also challenging.

So it makes sense that time (examining it, questioning it, running away from it) is a running theme throughout Miroh. Album closer "19" is a moody and personal song, written and produced by member Han, that finds him navigating that age between adolescence and adulthood. "Maze Of Memories" is a hip-hop track in which the cadence matches the various twists and turns one might encounter while chasing your dreams. It starts off slow and foreboding, then evolves into something darker and more sinister — a nightmarish soundscape — before ending with a confident refrain of "never give up." And then there's "Chronosaurus," an atmospheric song that associates time with something to be afraid of.

"While I was writing 'Chronosaurus' I did think a lot that time is something that has a lot of pressure attached to it. Even when you're taking a test there's always a time limit, or when you're working there's always a deadline," Bang Chan said.

"I would love to have a superpower that could control time because then I could do whatever I want," he added, laughing. "But time being something that no one can stop, because it's something that's always going to be with me anyway, you might as well get comfortable with it. Try to take some of the pressure off it."

This candid exploration is something that means a lot to their fans, many of whom are also navigating their own everyday struggles — running into their own mazes and up against deadlines. "We wanted to spread the message that you guys aren't the only ones," the leader told the passionate crowd of fans at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center on Tuesday night (May 14), the first of two sold-out nights and the first stop of the U.S. leg of their Unveil world tour. The two-hour set traces the group's young discography, telling the story of Stray Kids from the beginning.

source

[aoibaratraveler]

A Look Back At My Time In Japan Part 1!

Time for some Japan nostalgia!

I was hoping to write this much sooner than now but between settling back after our road trip, finding a job and then finding time to organize my life during my days off has been difficult!

This will be part of a three semi-detailed/summarised blog looking back at what I can remember from living in Japan three years ago; since I was too much of a fool to document it back then but then again I was having the time of my life so that can be a good enough excuse I guess, right?

Part One will be my first month in Japan where I was living in Tokyo with a friend who graciously let me stay in her apartment. Part Two (and maybe three) will be my four months living, studying, and working in Nagasaki and Part Three (or 4) will be my hitch-hiking back-packing trip around Japan in what was my final month of my six months living there!

Pre-arrival/Arrival in Japan and First Impressions:

I was excited beyond belief that I was finally going to go live and explore Japan and be away from home for the first time. I was also super nervous, the preparation to study abroad was pretty intense for someone who had never done it before and for someone who had never gone through the paperwork of visa application, passport renewal and getting all the documents together for the study abroad application itself. Once that was settled though it was just the wait to be able to go (maybe I should write a simple how-to of my experience with the study abroad application and why I think every university student should do it?).  I purchased my departure ticket to be on 29th February 2016 which I thought was pretty cool since it’s not every day you get to fly on a leap year. About six months prior to this I had met up with a close friend of mine who was about to leave for a year to participate in the JET programme and she, we’ll call her L, invited me to stay with her for the month of March in Tokyo to sightsee and hang out before my study program would start in April and of course I took her up on it!

In the days leading up to my departure, I really went all out and planned my own going away party with all my friends and had the best time with an escape game, archery tag and a poutine party. The bf, who at that time was just a friend, met up with me beforehand and helped me pick out a bunch of Canadian souvenir type things to bring with me to Japan so I could give to my homestay family. It was a fantastic day and very special so I had no idea that on the day I was set to leave that one of my other close friends, A and the bf planned to sing me a going away song at the airport (to be clear, the bf didn’t actually sing, A did and he provided the music on his laptop and speakers). This tidbit may a bit unnecessary in my nostalgic walk down memory lane but it is just part of what made those six months some of the best times in my life.

Anyway, enveloped in jitters and excitement I boarded my plane to Japan to start my journey, or as the Japanese say “tabi” (旅). I flew into Haneda airport which is quite central to Tokyo and I then found myself squeezed into a sea of evening commuters on the metro. Unfortunately, when I got off the metro and proceeded to take the escalator out of the station…I dropped my suitcase down it and one of the wheels broke which made walking around Tokyo a tad difficult. At that time I hadn’t realized that there was free wifi pretty much everywhere in Tokyo and while trying to find my friend’s apartment…I got lost for about an hour. It was pretty funny and I wasn’t too worried, to be honest, but I did feel bad to be keeping my friend waiting. I found a payphone to try and call her to tell her what was happening but I ran out of change while on the call (had a bit of leftover change with me from when I had first vacationed in Japan two years prior). After a while of walking around and trying to follow google map’s offline directions, I found a koban (a small police station) and gave the police officer the address that I was trying to find. The police officer was very kind and accommodating and pulled out a map to show me where I was and where I was trying to go (which actually wasn’t too far away…I was walking in circles). He then copied down the address on a big piece of paper with some instructions and hailed a taxi for me since he figured it was late and I should just take a taxi which I didn’t mind. I got to my friend’s place in no time at all and settled myself in.

First Two Weeks in Tokyo:

In my first few days, I took out my Japanese textbooks so I could prepare myself and brush up on things to be ready for classes at my university in Nagasaki and because I was planning to be staying with a homestay family that could speak no English…..well, being that I am pretty much the queen of procrastination, those collected dust pretty fast. Since it was a small apartment and I had a suitcase and big travel rook sack with me, L’s sister advised me to just send it to my homestay to be stored there in the meantime. The Japanese postal service is amazing and although my suitcase was pretty big and heavy they had no problems with shipping it to my homestay in Nagasaki the same day.

L’s neighborhood was quite cute and quiet and super pleasant to explore. It was pretty suburban and away from the hustle and bustle of central Tokyo which I greatly appreciated. Since L had work, I often explored on my own and was able to borrow her sister’s bike to further acquaint myself with the area. One of the days I borrowed her sister’s bike, I rode to Arakawa river which is a huge river just outside central Tokyo. I brought my textbooks along and thought I would spend a quiet afternoon just revising next to the river. I didn’t. Instead I rode the bike along the river and took everything in. There were other people there on runs, some guys practicing skateboarding and an old man playing the saxophone. When I finally got around to sitting down and opening up my textbook, a friendly old man walked up to me and with a big smile on his face asked me what I was doing there and why I was in Japan. I told him and we had a pleasant conversation at the end of which he handed me a bag of something from his garden–I think basil? And then told me to enjoy Japan. I didn’t exactly know what to do with this bag so I just gave it to L’s sister who had been doing most of the cooking in L’s place to include in whatever dish she was next going to make.

In the following days, I did all the typical touristy stuff in that I spent an entire day at one point just walking to and around central Tokyo and taking as many artsy photos as I could manage with my old phone. I explored around the Tokyo Sky Tree, perused Sunshine city—definitely made sure to check out all the Ghibli and Sailor Moon items I could find and get a spectacular view from the 59th floor (the place has 60 floors but you have to pay from the 60th and I ain’t about that life).

At the end of my first week in Japan, I made my way to an Airbnb hostel where I would be spending the next 4 days. This place was pretty interesting and my first real hostel experience. Everyone there was really friendly and I became quite close with my roomie who was the embodiment of a stereotypical German woman in that she was tall, pretty, had long blonde hair and sky blue eyes. She was in Tokyo for a mini-vacation from where she had been staying in Hokkaido and basically just wanted a change of pace. We exchanged stories, shared a few laughs and went sightseeing together. We are both fans of anime so we decided to check out Akihabara and since neither of us wanted to go to one alone, we decided to go to a maid cafe…and boy was that an experience. Firstly, it was super expensive so props to the girls who work there because they probably make a ton of money but it was also just very awkward. The maids put on a performance and called us “master” and refused to take any orders for food from us unless we put our hands up to our faces like cat paws and said “nyaa nyaa” first. Afterward, we did the very cliche anime couple thing and went to ride a pedal boat at Ueno park; it was a very silly but funny day. In the following days at the hostel, the roomie and I explored Shibuya crossing, the Hachiko statue, the National Museum of Nature and Science in Ueno on a rainy day and went to a Pokemon center where I purchased a little Charmander souvenir for the bf (who was then just a friend). It was definitely a very cool little pocket of my time in Tokyo. I ended off my first two weeks in Tokyo by visiting the imperial palace and exploring the royal gardens and…..go to the Ghibli Museum! The Ghibli Museum was beyond impressive and I definitely teared up a bit to be there. It was so cool, we weren’t allowed to take any photos from inside but it was like being transported to another world. On top of the museum was a life-size statue of the robot from Castle in the Sky and inside the museum were all these cute little bits from the movie and a mini theatre where you could watch original Ghibli film shorts. There was also a lovely gift shop with so many beautiful items like illustrated postcards; I purchased a lovely illustrated postcard of the Ghibli museum during the day…which I inevitably misplaced (I’m terrible, I lose everything).

Second Two Weeks:

I met up with a Japanese friend who I had met in Vancouver and we went for a day trip to explore Kawagoe also known as “Little Edo”. I say day trip but really it wasn’t until I got there that I realized that Google had lied to me when I searched best day trips from Tokyo because as lovely as Kawagoe was, it wasn’t worth a “day trip” because it was so small that it could be done in an hour or two! It was really quite funny, to be honest. It was very pretty and had loads of old-style architecture from the Edo period, hence where it got its nickname but there wasn’t all that much to do and a bit expensive to get to so after a couple of hours of walking around and trying to make our money’s worth of the train ticket to get there we decided to head to the next biggest spot to explore; Yokohama. Yokohama was definitely very fun and vibrant and the Chinatown there was great. We snacked on a bunch of samples and enjoyed the pretty night lights of the area. It was certainly a day with a lot of contrast.

The next day was great because the next day L and I headed to Taiwan! L managed to get a week off and so we thought why not explore Taipei during that time and get a little break from Tokyo. I, unfortunately, did not know the geography of the city too well and when I booked the Airbnb it ended up being too far from the centre of Taipei city and hence too far from any convenient connections to explore outside of Taipei PLUS we went right in the middle of the rainy season so it was a bit difficult to do any fun outdoorsy things. We still made the most of our time there and had a lot of fun. We ate at a few night markets and tried a lot of food, explored the area near our Airbnb, visited a cafe that was owned by a family friend of L’s and went to the National Palace Museum which housed tons of historical artifacts from China, it was pretty grand. Even though we spent the last two days of our trip sick in bed I’d still go back to Taiwan again to explore more of what the country has to offer and try more of the food!

Last Week in Tokyo + Night in Fukuoka:

I spent the majority of my last week in Tokyo just chillin’ really and preparing for my departure to Nagasaki, although I did go with L and her sister to do some lesser-known sightseeing in parts of Ginza and did the obligatory visit to the Tsukiji fish market to taste a delicious array of food. As well as some egg on a stick. Good stuff. The last bit of sightseeing that I can remember for that week was in two really interesting parts of Tokyo that not many people think to visit when they explore the city (well this was back then, it seems to have gotten a lot more popular now) known as Yanaka and Nezu.  These two neighborhoods make up what used to be Tokyo old downtown and have really kept their old-timey style. Walking through these neighborhoods felt like taking a trip back to the Show era of Japan and walking through the Yanaka cemetery felt very mysterious and cool. I gotta be honest though, as pretty as these places were, I mostly remember them because of the delicious beef korokke and taiyaki that I had there. 10/10. I’m only in part one of my nostalgia blogs but I’m telling you now that I basically ate my way through Japan.

So it was my final night before heading to Narita airport for my flight to Fukuoka and what did I decide to do? Laundry. Except L didn’t have a dryer and the weather wasn’t warm enough for my clothes to be dried fast enough to pack them up and I’m not sure what exactly happened but I think I broke the washer or something because for some reason the water didn’t drain so it wouldn’t have mattered if she had a dryer because my clothes were soaked. With only an hour to go before I had to be out of her apartment (L was asleep and I had decided to just not sleep that night since my flight was so early and I had to leave her apartment at 5 am), I wrung the clothes out as best I could, packed them in the new suitcase that I purchased in Taiwan to replace the one that I sent to Nagasaki with the wheel I had broken on my first day in Tokyo and was off. L’s place wasn’t far from the train station and I arrived 20 minutes before the first train of the day so I decided to go grab some breakfast and use the toilet at the nearby 7/11. Many convenience stores in Japan have two floors and a seating area so it’s a really nice place to just chill for a bit if you’re waiting for a train. A bit dramatic but I’ll never forget this day for the sheer amount that happened in a single morning. So I said before that I thought I’d use the toilet before heading off for the train and I guess for the first and only time in my life, I left the door unlocked…well a construction worker walked in on me on the toilet because of course. I screamed, he screamed and then he awkwardly and for some reason, slowly, closed the door while I died of humiliation. Anyway, I finally hopped on the train to Narita with tears of humiliation still in my eyes and also simultaneously laughing at myself. There weren’t many people on the train thankfully but I’m sure I was still dubbed a crazy foreigner in the minds of the people that were on the train. Oh, by the way, I may not have kept a journal at the time in a technical manner of speaking but I did have a daily journal in the form of me texting the bf every day (again, he was just a good friend at this point) and sending him long messages of what I did every day. Having him to confide in all the time definitely helped me to not go insane, especially that day and especially since Japan is ahead of Canada so he was still awake at that point. Once I arrived at the airport, I was to be greeted by the news that my suitcase was too heavy to be checked in without having to pay an extra exuberant amount, why you may ask? Because my clothes were still frigging wet. Well, partially owing to that and the fact that I accidentally purchased a heavyweight suitcase in Taipei…oops. After some reorganization of my suitcase and bag and *ahem* throwing out some things that I no longer deemed necessary to my life, I was finally able to be checked in..rather late (everyone was waiting for me, what can I say? I was a mess). Pretty sure I cried in my sleep when I finally arrived at my seat on the plane and passed out.

It was a relief to finally arrive in Fukuoka and the airport was so close to the main train station! It only took about 7 minutes to get there. I obviously got there really early in the day so I walked around Hakata station and explored the area before meeting up with the rest of the people who were part of my exchange program for the Nagasaki University of Foreign Studies at the hotel that they were to be staying at and signing in to show that I had arrived. Now I said they were staying at that hotel because of course, I wouldn’t be. But don’t worry, this was by choice, why spend the equivalent of $80 somewhere when the true shoestring traveler way is to rough it up somewhere for little to nothing? It took a bit of searching but I managed to find a family restaurant that was open 24/7 and not too far from the hotel (although sadly had no wifi), left my big ol’ suitcase outside (yay for safe Japan) and headed inside for the night where I did my best to study for the whole night, order some food every now and then and eventually pass out for a couple of hours. The next day I met back up with the exchange group, boarded the bus to Nagasaki and headed to the university to meet my homestay family who I would be staying with for the next four months! (spoiler alert: my homestay mother was about an hour or two late to pick me up and I was, in fact, the last person to be picked up at the university…so yea the first of many reasons why my homestay experience was certainly an interesting one).

[hallowtide]

What are the best ways to help with ADHD/ADD?

Answered on Quora by Iris Crain on July 30th, 2019.

https://qr.ae/TWvd59

I can answer you from the perspective of someone with Adult ADHD that started in childhood, mother of three with ADHD, and now at least three of my grandchildren are diagnosed…

First, you need to *understand* us. Our brains are literally wired differently. They’re calling it “Neural diversity” now, which I like because it really is just thinking differently, not so much like we’re crippled by some ‘disorder.’ But life for us is like having 35 tabs open in your browser, all on different topics across several genres, and knowing exactly how each one corralates to the others (I actually do this a lot, boggles my husband’s mind.) It’s like having five different radio stations going all at once in our heads, rock, talk radio, news, classical and reggae.

And we really want to be understood. The biggest issues in relationships is when we feel the other person doesn’t understand us and we feel alone. My son had an issue over 20 years ago where he was being defiant in the principal’s office in the presence of a police officer. When I walked in, the cop was unclasping his handcuffs to take him to Juvenille hall. I sat in a child-sized chair in front of my son and said “So, what’s going on?” After 10 mins of being heard, he was calm and understood that his response to the situation was inappropriate (although I took issue because he was being bullied) and the officer said he’d never seen anyone so effectively handle an ADHD kid that wound up. I replied “All he wanted was for his feelings to be heard and understood.”

We feel very deeply. We seem to get our feelings hurt pretty easily. Because we attach to the things that get our attention accutely, when they’re taken from us or otherwise destroyed, we feel like we’re being hurt. We’re often told we talk too much, because we want others to understand and feel things as muc has we do. And we don’t understand why people can go through life without feeling things like we do.

We’re not stupid. I was tested and have a 167 IQ. And yet I forget simple things like remembering to set my alarm the night before so I make an appointment, or what I had for dinner last night. I can hear a song and tell you the song title, band name, and usually the album name, what the album cover looked like, the track, the lead singer, and often a bit of other trivia about the song, band or album. My husband calls me his “own personal ‘Behind the Music’.” Yet many ADHD kids grow up to be adults with a lot of self esteem issues from being called lazy, stupid, crazy, spoiled or weird. They often have PTSD (and some like me have actual physical scars) from bullying, poor grades because they just don’t think like the other kids, and a high suicide rate.

We move at a very fast pace. We thrive in situations were we can apply what we know and are good at in a focused manner. My ADHD son would be so into a video game he wouldn’t notice his bathroom urges and wet his pants as a teenager. If I’m working on an important project or event, I typically spend the last two weeks before the event in what my kids call “pre event psychosis” where I get almost zero sleep, only face-planting my keyboard for 15 mins at a time, with little side effects. My husband says he marvels at everything I do out-of-sight until he notices them or I bring them up. My grandparents used to call it “running circles around them” (sometimes literally.)

We want to be helpful, and involved. We forget that people might not want our help, beause we’re so busy butting in trying to join in. We have so many ideas how you can improve what you’re doing that we don’t understand why you’re comfortable doing things the same way every time. Or by yourself. Or it’s not the best/fastest/most fun way possible. We don’t understand why people say “go away, I’ll do it myself” or “I don’t want your help.”

We’re easily distracted. Scatter-brained. Forgetful. Spastic. For example the other day I was sitting at my desk writing a fiction story on my computer, fixing a USB charging cord, making a short grocery list, organizing my top desk drawer and talking to people in the room, all at the same time. I also fed the fish on my desk, and periodically swapped out the page of the document I was scanning into my computer. What most people don’t understand is that ADHD people can actually do that, and we’re usually good at it. We will also have a thousand and one unfinished projects.

We need different coping mechanisms. For some ADHD people, they need quiet to function, to keep the distractions limited. Me, I like to listen to music, preferably non-lyrical like “handpan” music or binural tones. Something with energy. I put headphones on and five hours later I have the outline of a small novel (and sometimes that’s bad, because it started as a simple reply on facebook that went WAY out of control!!) However, if my husband can’t find something in the fridge, without looking up from my computer I can say “second shelf, towards the back, under the sour cream behind the mayo.” And my office area that looks so cluttered and disorganized? I know what and where everything is, so please don’t move anything.

Yet we’re visionary too! Some of the best writers, philosophers and scientists were or are ADHD. We think outside the box so much, we forget to think *inside* the box, and “Neuraltypical” people don’t have a reference in normal thinking to understand what we’re talking about. It’s not anyone’s fault, we literaly have a different perspective on the world. We can imagine all the “what ifs” in the universe (which can challenge even the most patient parent.) But we’re usually very good problem solvers, inventors and creators.

We get easily frustrated. Because we move at such a fast pace, we have trouble learning the rest of the world dosen’t manifest things as fast as we’d like. We want to be instant Mozarts and Wozniaks, we want the paint to dry faster, we want our TV show to come on now, we want to arrive at our destination as soon as we pull out of the driveway (are we there yet?) We can be pushy and demanding beause we want things to go at our speed. And if we grasp a concept, we want to move on to the next step, whether the people around us are on the same page or not.

We also have trouble slowing down, which is why things like belly breathing, grounding and centering, meditation, yoga, martial arts or even simple playtime in the bath can improve our mood and behavior rather impressively. Learning to do these things is hard for us though…

We get easily depressed. The problem with moving fast in a slower paced world is that we get disapointed on a regular basis. We’re different, and a lot of ADHD people describe feeling like a “Stranger in a Strange Land” (good book by the way…) With all the expectations we have of ourselves and our world, and the disapointment from them, people with ADHD have some of the highest rates of mental health disorders and suicidal ideation overall. (It’s also why learning how to adjust one’s perspective and let go of expectations and live in the now is so theraputic for us.)

Our brains specialize. Much like a savant, we’re usually really good at something, but lackluster at most of the other things around us. When we fixate on a topic or field, it’s one of the few times that we are able to shut out the distractions, and so we excel at that thing. The drawback is that it’s also really hard to get interested in anything else. If we’re good at math in school, we don’t hear the bell ring ending the class, we get distracted at our locker looking *one more time* at those equasions, and we miss 90% of everything the next four teachers talk about because in our head we’re seeing numbers and fractions and sums. (As you can tell, mine was English class, adding sociology in college.)

The best way you can help us is to understand us. Be patient. Be kind. Don’t get angry when we try to help. Or when we don’t remember. Learn more about how we think and approach us from our perspective once in a while. Help us set up the structures, reminders and mechanisms that help us function. Or at least try not to throw us off-track if we’re doing good.

For kids, give them lots of stuff to do, but make sure it’s something that catches their interest. Don’t be surprised when that interest changes overnight. Learn the concept of a “teaching moment.” In those moments, you have their attention - use it to teach them why the situation is good or bad. Don’t nag about the failures or differences as much as recognizing and praising the successes. ADHD people have so many little failures throughout the day that praising us for a success goes a log way.

Realize they are mini adrenaline junkies! My daughter’s teacher realized she needed to be evaluated at seven when, instead of going around the table like most her peers at that age would, to get a marker she wanted she not only went across the table for it, but she did so standing, not crawling, and didn’t understand why it was such an issue. I loved to climb trees, big tall pine trees, all the way where I could touch the top, despite it swaying from my weight, or my mother’s terrified screams.

Make them learn to read, without it they will have trouble finding coping mechanisms because neuraltypical people don’t think like they do, but in the myriad of universes and galaxies in stories they can find descriptions of things that their minds will connect with.

And it goes without saying I hope that most of all, we’re human. We deserve the same love and respect you would give anyone else. And if you do, you’ll find no better or more loyal helpers in all of society. Just let us be us.

[okimargarvez]

FEW HOURS IN LUKE ALVEZ’S MIND - 1

Original title: Few hours in Luke Alvez’s mind.

Prompt: Luke’ POV, memory of war.

Warning: quote of 12x1.

Genre: comedy, family, angst, friendship.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia, BAU team.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot.

Legend: 🔦🐶.

Song mentioned: none.

Few hours in Luke Alvez’s mind- Masterlist

GARVEZ STORIES

Part 1-

I spend the whole evening thinking about what Rossi has told me. I was happy to receive that call. Being among the first to know that Daniel Cullen, aka the Crimson King, had participated in the great escape, was very positive. From that cursed day I couldn't take the image out of my head of that monster while was quartering my partner, and, what I never say when I tell the story of his capture, even my best friend. It's something that will haunt me for a lifetime. And of bad things, with the work I do, it's not that I have no way of seeing them.

Is not even to be discussed if I'll collaborate with the BAU, the answer is obviously yes. I want to capture Cullen as much as, but what I’m saying, far more than them. The only thing that kept me going in this period was knowing him right behind bars. But I don't want to definitively join the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I'm not a profiler. I don't see myself trying to penetrate the perverse minds of people like Cullen, or worse. And what I do now, I like it. I can't say I adore it, no, but I feel good and in the end, it's not that you can always expect the best.

Roxy enters the room, in all her splendor. As usual, she manages to make me stop thinking about work and tear me a smile. -Come here.- I say, making a sign her to sit on the couch next to me. And she does it, in a rather stormy way. A pillow falls on her head. I stroke her, and she reciprocates me with a kiss.

-What do you say, let's go to bed?- she seems to nod and so we get up, heading towards the bedroom, one next to the other. Another of the things for which I didn't completely lose my mind is her. She stayed near me, during this period. I love her more than my life.

I don't think I will be able to rest seriously, but I must at least try. Tomorrow will be a long day. Wake up early and go to Washington. Roxy certainly will not like the idea of ​​moving. She adores the landscapes of this area, the long tree-lined avenues, the fragrant bushes. But at least until Daniel Cullen goes back where he has to stay permanently (on the other side of the bars), I'll have to go to Quantico very often, so I think it's better that we have a place to stay, so we don't have to come back and forth. And surely, I couldn't leave her here alone, I miss her terribly.

 The alarm rings while I'm finishing to get dress. I anticipated it for a full fifteen minutes. As I had imagined, I could hardly close my eyes. I've traveled through several mini dreams, I don't even know if I can define them, I don't remember most of them, but I seem to remember the atmosphere, dark, absurd, properly dreamlike. Some of those were vaguely related about a sort of interview to be hired as a profiler, although it isn't something I want, in reality. Some people all the same, both as clothes and as a physical appearance, indistinguishable between men and women, they asked me quickfire questions, not even I was under questioning or they were making me the test of polygraph. And my answers were always wrong or inaccurate. Only the fact of returning to the real world, panting, sweating and with an extra weight on my heart, convinced me that I had slept at least one or two hours altogether.

Fortunately, the plane lands without a minute's delay, ignoring the fact that, predicting the worst, I booked to get to Quantico an hour earlier. Here I am in front of the headquarters of the Bureau: immense, very high, reminds me of certain buildings filmed in the poetic documentaries of the avant-garde (the influence of my brother is felt). It certainly helps to instill in those who are about to enter, a certain sense of authority and smallness by contrast. But I'm only here as a collaborator, what tormented me is just a dream and it doesn't come close to reality.

As soon as I set foot inside, I am shocked by the number of stairs that branch out in every direction and the counters with beautiful secretaries, apparently available. But I don't need to ask for any information, Rossi has already told me what I needed to know. And so, I take the elevator (normally I wouldn't do it, but I don't want to get sweaty right the day I get to know the other members of the unit, with whom I'll have to spend some time anyway...). I arrive in a flash, too quickly, and I'm immediately punished for this lazy choice: my head is now turning, and a certain sense of nausea is rising... Reminder for the future: don't take the elevator any more.

I risk of bumping into a blonde woman, busy carrying a lot of cards. It'll be my gaze, which despite my efforts is still disoriented, or it'll be her precarious position, the fact is that she raises her eyes to mine a moment before our bodies are likely to collide and this is enough to recognize me as the newcomer, the exterior.

-Hey, you are Luke Alvez, the man of the task force?- her voice isn't exactly as I guessed, it's decided and transmits a great determination. Apparently, she looks like a pretty, sweet woman, but I think she'll reserve more surprises. I nod.

-Exactly, I must have right a lost air, for being caught on the first shot...- I throw one of my friendly smiles. She gives me her right hand, I squeeze it. From the corner of my eye I notice a beautiful wedding ring in the ring finger of the other hand.

-Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ.- it sounds good, it sounds good for her. -I imagine you're here for the case of the Crimson King...- just hearing that nickname make me nervous, but if her notice it, she doesn't seem to give it much weight. -Wait that I place these folder, then I'll show you the way.- she starts heading to a door, I follow her. -We were just about to make a meeting to talk about the progress made so far. Thanks to you, less than half of the escapees came back inside.- in saying the last sentence, she turns to me and gives me a very warm and sincere smile.

-I only did my job...- a lines that seems extrapolated from a classic Hollywood police film. JJ giggles anyway. She opens a locker, throws inside everything she has in her hands, then she closes it.

-Well, we can go.- I nod, without saying anything and I follow her, looking around intrigued, hoping that at least it won't be notice, everything: it is very different from the place where I work, is full of desks, each "decked out" personal way, higher up there must be the offices of the "big bosses". We arrive at the door, this is transparent but so that those on the other side can see us, but not us him. It turns out to be a fairly small room, in the center a round table, chairs, a screen, a blackboard directly attached to one of the glass walls. Sitting on one of them there is just Rossi, next to him a dark-haired man, completely focused on the documents he is reading, but even so it seems to convey a shady air. The Italian-American looks up at the sound of someone entering and realizes that besides JJ there is also someone new, me.

-Luke!- he stands up and reaches us. -I'm glad you managed to get there on time. I see you've met JJ...- we both nod. Even the other man, who should be the boss, is approaching. -Hotch, this is the boy- this term makes me feel extremely young -that helped us to take those criminals...- I feel a certain embarrassment or perhaps it is more awe, when I meet the gaze of the boss.

-Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. Aaron Hotcher.- the tone in this case fits perfectly to his person, but also reveals that behind that armor in one piece there is a man loyal to duty but that puts the whole heart in everything he does. Maybe I should really do the profiler, I do nothing but shoot judgments on anyone starting from nuances of the voice and ways of doing, as I have set foot in Quantico. He holds out his hand and for the umpteenth time, certainly not the last, I find myself doing this formal ritual.

-Luke Alvez.- at the same time a tall, slender, professional-looking brunette woman comes.

-Excuse the delay, the damn coffee machine has decided not to cooperate...- she notices me early enough, not that it is a very complex operation. Probably they didn’t explain to all members of the team the possibility of a collaboration on my part, because she appears confusing. I don’t know whether to resolve the problem directly or if I have to wait for the boss to introduce me. In the end, luckily, Rossi thinks about it.

-Tara, remember that we asked for someone who could help us to capture the escapees?- after a few seconds, she nods. For a moment she seems lost in who knows what memory. -Here, he is our trump card- if he continues like this, he will make me blush -Luke Alvez , task force.- I approach her, shake her hand, her is a very delicate hold, perfectly matched with the tone of her velvety voice.

-Tara Lewis.- I hope that for now the pleasantries are over, but it is a rather utopian desire. I seemed to remember that they were more, of course, a few months ago they lost one of their member, some voices have come in my house, he was kidnapped him and then someone had shot his pregnant wife... logical that he decided to move on. However, they still seem to me too few.

-Unfortunately we can’t begin, we must wait for our computer technician.- Hotchner explains, probably turning more to me than to others. I nod, everyone sits down, so I do too. A few minutes later the door opens (apparently for the last time) and, stumbling, hidden by a pile of yellow folders that remind me of the years in the police, and a computer, enters a woman, a spot of various shades of pink and yellow, the color of her hair. Of course, when the boss told "our computer technician", I thought he was referring to a man, but it was a masculine thought, the result of a legacy still present in our society, however much we would deny it and affirm the opposite. Resting the material on the table, finally she reveals her figure, even if for a few seconds. She quickly distributes the folders, one in front of me and I can’t help but notice the amount of bracelets and the variety of shapes that adorn her arm, as well as the colored nails in a very creative way. OK, the nerds are pretty eccentric, but I could never have expected a similar computer scientist. Rossi tries to get her attention, but she clearly ignores him, preferring to dedicate herself to the screen, which suddenly comes on.

-We can start.- Hotchner says solemnly. Nobody replies anything, only the blond woman, the only one left standing, who nods and handling what looks like a common remote control, starts the presentation of the case.

-As you all know, not the all evaded have yet been captured. Last night, in Durham, a man was sighted whose description corresponded exactly to that of the wanted number one: Peter Lewis, aka Mister Scratch.- first a map appears to locate exactly the detection area, next to a picture that I remember, one of the worst serial killers that America has known. Yet a part of me is distracted by the thought of how much the analyst's voice is sweet. Sweet, I can’t think of another adjective that can describe it well. -...unfortunately there are no cameras in that area, so we have only the testimony of a woman who was walking with her dog.- I try to go back to concentrating on serious things, even if it is a complex matter, because the gaze is attracted , willy-nilly, towards those bright colors that completely contrast with the things we are talking about in this room, with the photographs projected on the screen behind her (many victims of Scratch, almost used as a reminder to have one more reason to find him) and with the atmosphere in general.

-We have any kind of identikit?- Tara asks, sitting next to me. The woman, of whom I don’t even know the name, nods and here appears what is required. There is no doubt that there are significant similarities with the killer who enjoys not killing, preferring to push others to do so, prey to nightmares and dark visions.

-Unfortunately the situation remains virtually unchanged.- the comment seems to close the question, it’s the oldest in the room who has talking.

-Dave is right.- the boss is in agreement. -We can move on to the second topic of the day, the main reason why agent Alvez is among us.- I feel the lights of the spotlight on me. Without having to add anything else, every data about Lewis disappears and in its place, peeks out the seemingly normal face, perhaps even more frightening, of the criminal that I more hate, of the man who has ruined Phil's life and by reflex also mine, ripping off whole nights of sleep and serenity, that I will not get back...

-Daniel Cullen, also known as the Crimson King.- I realize after a few seconds that my hand is tigh in a fist. I try to relax, with poor results. -There is no news from the escape, but an anonymous source, a call from a telephone booth, to be exact. He told Durham police he had seen Cullen with Mister Scratch. This is the only thread we can follow to get out of the maze.- the joke rips out a few laughs to the colleagues, but not to Hotcher, who remains serious.

-If there are no other comments- he even says, almost scolding the blonde, who raises her eyes to the sky (probably they are used to it, among them will be a kind of game or ritual) -I would say that for today we can conclude. Agent Alvez, do you feel like joining us in the search?- is the simplest question someone could ask me. -We do not know exactly when the track on Cullen will open again.- he adds, but I have already made a decision.

-Sure.- he nods, satisfied.

-Ok, then if there isn’t other news, we will update tomorrow morning.- and repeated what looks like a formula now standardized, the meeting is dissolved, all stand up, JJ reaches the other blonde and exchange a few words with her, I can’t distinguish enough to understand the logical sense. And it should not interest me. I see Rossi and Tara coming out and, in a moment, we are left alone. It seems to me the right moment to conclude the presentations and finally to give a name to her too, which launches an almost painful and desperate look in the direction where her colleague has disappeared. Then I'll stop calling her just the blonde or computer technician.

-Hey, we haven’t be introduced yet, I'm the agent of the task force, Luke Alvez.- she seems to hardly direct the eyes in my direction and takes much longer than normal to allow them to cross with mine. Her are brown, but not dark, of various shades of hazelnut, framed beautifully by a pair of pink glasses (rightly matched to the clothes) and long and refined eyelashes.

-Penelope Garcia.- the tone is very different from the one she used during the meeting, absurdly it seems darker at this moment, than when she was intent on commenting horrible images. The name is interesting, certainly not really common, yet truly mythical or mythological. And the surname makes me think of a background that is closer to mine, and yet her appearance does not seem that of a Latin, American or not. We exchange a hasty close, which gives me the time to just guess the freshness of her skin. Even her ring finger, like that of JJ, is occupied by a ring, but unlike the other blonde, is in good company. You don’t need to be a profiler to say that she likes all kinds of wearable accessories. -Now I'm sorry, but I'm very busy.- said this, she takes her computer and virtually without even looking at me, leaves the room. That's why I could never be a good profiler: from the way she is dressed, she has talked and even from her tone of voice, I would have imagined anything but a woman as cold and detached as she seems now.

As I mull over, I look up and find myself in front of a tall, very young man, definitely more than me, lightly long and long brown hair, a particular look and a briefcase in one hand.

-Luke Alvez?- he asks and I wonder if by chance I don’t have an ID sticker printed on the front. I nod. -I’m Spencer Reid.- that name reminds me of some detail provided by Rossi (of course).

-Ah! No handshaking, right? Your reputation precedes you.- the other is pleasantly impressed and smiles.

-I just came back and we already have a case.- he goes to a desk, collects something, some sheets, a book, then closes his bag with a click. He turns in my direction and seems to be about to say something but is interrupted by the entrance of the three ladies of the BAU, two blondes and a brunette. The smallest accelerates the pace and reaches us.

-Spencer!- she exclaims with great joy, and then hugs him with a lot of transport. I move away a few inches, partly embarrassed to be unwittingly the third wheel in what seems like a private moment. Here comes the other two, Tara greets the young man with a smile, while Penelope takes the place of JJ, hugging him with a lot of tenderness.

-How are you, my boy wonder?- the voice takes with more force those sweet nuances that I had guessed while she was explaining the case and that has not had only with me. She doesn’t give him the time to answer. -And how is your mother?- but maternal is the adjective that I would use to describe her attitude, in general, towards Spencer. The way she scrutinizes him, apprehensively, her gestures, precise and delicate.

-She is much better.- he exclaims, opening his serious face in a big smile.

-JJ, where can I find your archive? I would like to see all the material you have about... Daniel Cullen.- the blonde nods, but glances at the computer technician.

-If you are looking for information, of any kind, she is the woman to whom you must address.- this phrase comes out with an almost complacent tone, even if I don’t understand the reasons. The other realizes that she has been called into question and turns towards us. -Garcia, could you help Luke find the complete file on the Crimson King?- she asks, before I can do it, leaving me a bit confused. I don’t understand why she seems to want to be an intermediary between us. Garcia nods, snorting and throwing a look that I would call homicidal, just directed to JJ, who smiles strangely once again. Something is happening that I'm completely unaware of. But for now, I decided to pretend nothing happened.

-Follow me.- says Penelope, without even looking at me, start to walking regardless of whether I'm behind her or not. I quickly greet the others and reach out to her. It makes me feel strange, that she is the only one that uses this formal tone. Even Hotch immediately talked to me in another tone and practically demanded the same from me. And after have seen her interact with Spencer, I don’t think she is a super formal type, but... maybe it's better to refrain from judging, for today. We enter a room surrounded by lockers, like those in the libraries where the old catalogs were kept. The rest is made up of files and rows of tables, each equipped with a computer that doesn’t seem to last generation at all. She approaches one, turning it on, typing in a password (even if I don’t have time to follow her fingers flickering on the keys) and the screen lights up. -Here, it is enough that you type the name you need in this space and you will see a list of everything you need. In part it will be directly present in the system in electronic format and if you want you can print a copy. Otherwise, an acronym will appear that corresponds to the location of the document you are looking for. At this point you will have to turn to one of the archivists.- she explains in a calm voice, totally devoid of those pretty inflexions she had just a moment ago. -Good work.- and she goes away.

-Thank you.- I reply, too late.

TAGS:  @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz @mercedes-maldonado  @shyladystudentfan @cosmicmelaninflower @kiki-krakatoa  @pegasus-scifichick  @ leftlamphumanfestival 

[havekiddoswilltravel]

Hamilton Musical Review – Wow, Just Wow!

A creative review of Hamilton – by a travel blogging mom.

Burr I’d rather be divisive than indecisive. Drop the niceties.

Hamilton, “A Farmer Refuted”

Watching Hamilton Musical live has been on the top of my personal family bucket list for years. I’ve researched ticket prices many times and was ecstatic when I found out that they would be coming to The Bushnell Center of the Performing Arts in Hartford this December. We are big Bushnell supporters and tend to enjoy a minimum of four shows there each season. I was determined to get tickets. I set reminders on my phone calendar with ticket release dates and went as far as bringing my laptop to the kid’s taekwondo team practice on the morning of the first wave of ticket releases. After 1 hour of refreshing the browser, I scored four reasonable tickets for December 30th. What a perfect Christmas gift for our wanderlust family.

You can write rhymes but you can’t write mine.

Take A Break – Hamilton Musical

 I had taken the kids this summer to watch Lin-Manuel Miranda’s In The Heights (a musical about a Dominican bodega owner in the Washington Heights neighborhood of Manhattan) and had prepared them for the music, dancing and writing style that would be depicted in Hamilton. As we only had four tickets, we decided to take our two girls and leave the boys behind this time. One more reason for me to watch it again, because honestly, I can’t get enough.  This is not a review that will be focused on whether Hamilton Musical is historically accurate, appropriate, misrepresented history, left a marginalized group out, minimized the evils of slavery or any other overly serious analysis of Mr. Miranda’s intent in writing this musical. I’m pretty sure that Mr. Miranda did not intend his interpretation of Alexander Hamilton to be an all-inclusive, historically accurate depiction of the founding father. Hamilton is not intended to be all things to all people. I come to this review from the perspective of a history, travel, music, dance, culture and entertainment loving travel blogger, wife and mami of four brown kids whom are exposed to a variety of art and theater. Theater often full of casts, music and culture that does not represent them. For this reason alone, Hamilton rocked. #representationmatters. It’s for the same reason that I was moved to tears by In The Heights musical. Mr. Miranda understands the cultural nuances, references, experiences, dance moves, dictation, beats and music that speak to the deepest parts of my Dominican immigrant soul. Let’s dive in. What I loved about Hamilton and how much I wished that I could get inside the heads of all of the white people sitting around us in Hartford, Connecticut watching this art form. If you were one of them and are willing to share, what were your thoughts?

I am the one thing in life I can control. I am inimitable, I am an original.

Burr, “Wait for It”

 Talk less, smile more. Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.

Burr – “Aaron Burr, Sir

 -          Lin-Manuel Miranda is puro Latino. I can relate to everything he stands for in a way that at times is difficult for me to explain to my mainland born and raised children. Bringing them to experience Mr. Miranda’s work like In The Heights and Hamilton, provided a window to our shared culture, history and traditions. He’s a Boricua, born in Washington Heights and raised in a prominent Latino community that closely resembles the one that I was raised in. Like me, he came of age in a bilingual, bicultural home, where music, traditions and food were the norm, but were rarely reflected in the mainstream pop culture. Mr. Miranda has succeeded in creating Broadway characters who manage to erase the invisibility that I’ve often felt as a lover of all things art and theater. I got goosebumps as a sat and watched characters who spoke like my family and friends, danced with the same passion, sabor and vigor and shared the same cultural nuances that bring a sense of nostalgia to this Dominican woman.

-          As I sat in the fancy theater watching the opening number, I was left breathless as the realization hit me that I was watching artists in every shade of brown, wearing traditional colonial garb (minus the wigs), telling the story of a forgotten forefather immigrant who rose from nothing, I saw myself. I shared this same story and I was unable to contain the emotions. I could care less (must put my wokeness aside for the sake of entertainment and rest) about whether our founding fathers were white, sexists, racist, slave owning men, I was taken by the artistry of Hamilton and was able to see myself in Mr. Miranda’s delivery in ways that I’m seldom able to. What a beautiful gift to give our young children. For so long, our narrative and stories have been left out of the arts. With Hamilton, Mr. Miranda placed my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings and friends into the center of the narrative. The bold and unapologetic fashion in which he did so is mind blowing. I lol when Hamilton and Lafayette yelled: “Immigrants, we get the job done.” I was tempted to respond: Asi es. Tu lo sabes. Thank you, Mr. Miranda for allowing me to share this musical with my children and have them see, feel and experience Latinos in a way that is beyond what the main stream media portrays. We know who we are, but it was extremely emotional to have us portrayed outside of the typical narrative of slaves and low-wage workers. Gracias.

We’re finally on the field, we’ve had quite a run. Immigrants: we get the job done.

Hamilton and Lafayette, “Yorktown”

 -          Miranda boldly took on the old minstrel American tradition of black face on stage and reversed it. Oh my goodness, let’s process that one for a minute. I’m cognizant of how this fact and the psychological and social implications of the affect of this when I read negative mainstream reviews of the musical. All of a sudden, those of us usually in the fringes are now put center stage in “The Room Where It Happens” and those usually in the mainstream are left researching, attempting to understand the dictation, body language and music. Wow. That’s genius.

There’s a million things I haven’t done, just you wait

Alexander Hamilton

 Hamilton left me pondering so much about my history, my story and daily life. It was meant to be that our family took in the last show of the year in Hartford on December, 30th. I find myself in a reflective mood during the last week of each year. Since starting my blog 1 ½  years ago, I’ve tried to be consistent in writing, sharing and transparency. Hamilton reminded me of the reasons why I started Have Kiddos Will Travel and it has inspired me to start 2019 “writing like I’m running out of time!”

Why do you write like you’re writing out of time?

Non Stop

 But when you’re gone, who remembers your name? Who keeps your flame?

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

 The final song of Hamilton left me inspired to continue my blog as an avenue to share my unique and personal story. Life as a work from home, homeschooling mother of four can be isolating at times. This is the primary reason why I started Have Kiddos Will Travel. The blog allows me to document and write my own narrative and by doing so inspire and relate to other women in similar situations as mine. Blogging is risky, as it can leave one vulnerable to other’s not so kosher intentions. I want full control of my story; the good, the bad and the ugly. It’s mine to tell.

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Below are some of the other favorite lines from Hamilton. Do share yours.

Dying is easy, young man, living is harder.

George Washington – “Right Hand Man

 America, you great unfinished symphony, you sent for me. You let me make a difference. A place where even orphan immigrants can leave their fingerprints and rise up.

Hamilton, The World Was Wide Enough

 Your debts are paid cuz you don’t pay for labor, “We plant seeds in the South. We create.” Yeah, keep ranting. We know who’s really doing the planting.

Alexander Hamilton, Cabinet Battle #1

 I’m just like my country—I’m young, scrappy, and hungry, and I am not throwing away my shot.

Hamilton, “My Shot”

 know that we can win, I know that greatness lies in you. But remember from here on in, history has its eyes on you….

History Has Its Eyes On You

Legacy. What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.

Alexander Hamilton, The World Was Wide Enough

[jiminwreckedme]

The Distance Between Us

Strange Connections, Stranger Chemistry - Mini Series.

| The Beginning | Everything In Between | The End |

Member- | Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook |

AU - Married, Business. 

Genre - Angst, Implied smut in later parts.

Word count - 24K

Summary -Not all love stories are she loved him and he loved her. Not all love stories are that simple. But it isn’t love which is complicated either. 

It’s the people in love who are.

Tags -@gwynethjodie, @softkomorebi, @itsinseoul thank for you for always being there <3

Song - It’s alright, it’s love. 

As you slowly step on the brake, the hand which was wiping off the crumbs of the tuna sandwich you just had, returns to the steering wheel. Swallowing the last of your brunch urgently, you divert your attention once more to the phone call. “Ash, how about you send me the documents now? I can go through the recorded results and get back to you by the evening.”

“Are you sure you finish the verification by the evening Y/n?” The sound of her voice echoes in the car as you turn left, into the parking lot. “You don’t seem to be at headquarters and you know the deadline is tonight right?”

“Yeah, I know.” Reversing the car, you keep your eyes on the mirror, but your attention is equally on the phone call. Multitasking. With a career that’s all about multitasking, you are pretty good at it by now.

“Will you be back by then? When can you reach by?”

“About an hour or two?” You check for all your belongings, grab your laptop bag and your wallet from behind to place it on the front seat. Leaning a little forward you strip off your white coat and toss it to the back. “I’m at the airport Ash, and that’s not exactly close to the lab. It’ll take me a while to reach.”

“Ah yes you told me about the airport but, why again, are you at the there?”

You freeze, growing unnaturally silent at your assistant’s question. You didn’t exactly realize but a whole awkward minute passes before you hear her voice again, snapping you out of thoughts you weren’t even having. Because your mind is absolutely blank.

“Y/n are you there?”

“Huh? Yeah…I’m here to pick up uh.…” You tensely swallow nothing. “To pick up someone I know”

“Ah, okay.” Her voice is normal. She didn’t notice the hesitancy or the uncertainty in your answer. “Be sure to come back on time. I’ll forward the results to you as soon as I get back to headquarters yeah? I’m kinda out for lunch right now.”

“OK. Cool.” Your voice is tight as you cut the call and the silence of the closed space of your car takes over. Sinking back into the softness of the driver’s seat till your head hits the head rest, you shut your eyes and tensely pinch the bridge of your nose. He’s coming. He’s going to be here. With you. In your house. In your space.

In your life.

Stepping out you collect your things and shut the door as your car gives the click of the lock behind you. Gripping your laptop bag tight, tucking your phone in the back pocket of your jeans, you make your way through the crowd, towards the arrival hall of the airport, heart surely pounding much faster than you’ve learned it’s scientifically supposed to.

It’s late Saturday morning. The sun is blazing like never before, making you long for the coolness of the air conditioning of your car. As sweat makes its way down your neck, your formal wear is uncomfortably beginning to stick to your skin, the material starting to itch. You speeden your footsteps, the clicking of your pumps getting louder, faster, matching the pace of your erratic heartbeat.

But the longing you had minutes ago is gone as soon as you step in the large hall buzzing with people, the constriction of the loud crowd even more annoying than the weather outside. Each person in the crowd moves as if unseeing hands drag them this way and that, pulling their eyes to one thing and then another. They respond in predictable ways, each of them running with a goal to achieve for the day. But you choose to stop.

You stop at the center of the hall as the crowd regardless, makes its way unbothered, parting from either side of you. Taking a moment, you check the old bronze colored watch ticking away on your thinning, paling wrist. 15 minutes. That’s all you have before he’s here. It’s too much and too little time both at once. You shut your eyes tight and let out a long sigh through your mouth, nodding and muttering to yourself, hand tapping away on your heart. “It’s okay…just relax….just relax…”

As you walk ahead you find yourself in front of the sliding glass doors of the arrival hall, the big digital screen flashing that the flight from Seoul has only just landed. That means he is yet to alight, clear immigration, collect his luggage - it would take a while for him to come, so standing and waiting here would only be a waste of time. And a pain in your already aching knees.

Looking around you thank the heavens when you notice the nearby coffee shop, and more importantly an empty table. The moment your rear touches the seat you waste no time in opening your laptop and pulling out the files from your bag, trying to resume the work you had pending - your attempt to utilize time better. A futile attempt.

As your coffee order comes, it sits on the table growing cold, untouched. The pages of your file turn, fluttering due to the occasional gust of wind. The battery of your laptop drains away, the percentage getting lesser and lesser but never mind touching the keypad, you didn’t even look at the screen once.

Head resting on your interlocked hands with your elbows propped on the table, your eyes are fixed on the many people hauling their luggage out of the glass doors. You were the kind trained to observe your surroundings a lot. What people did, their behavior, the little details about their actions and reactions, everything. Being a scientist, keen observation is a skill that naturally comes to you. But that is the last thing you are doing now. Right now your eyes are searching. Searching pointlessly for the one you were waiting for even though the last thing you want to do is to see him.

The thought of him shouldn’t have crossed your mind like this. With all the work you have and being the workaholic that you are, the thought of him should have absolutely not crossed your mind. But like every day in the past three months, it did. And more today than ever before. Perhaps because he’s so close. Or perhaps because even after being this close, he might be so far. Because you knew the distance between you was bound to grow. It was meant to.

And as necessary as that was for you, that hard it was. Staying far was really hard. Getting closer was much harder. And it was thoughts like this that made the last few days so very difficult. It took a hell lot of time and energy to convince and persuade yourself to get prepared to finally see him again. You thought you were ready. You thought you were ready to have him in your life once more but….

But as the crowd parts and sunlight unnecessarily makes its way from the glass windows above to shine on him, every cell of your body tells you that you are far from ready to have him back again. With a bag over his shoulders, a jacket in his hand and dragging his suitcase behind him, he casually walks in your direction, though he doesn’t seem to have noticed your presence. While you should have got up and neared the doors to let him see you, you sit still, maintaining the same stance but the only difference was….

You forgot to breath.

His tousled dark brown hair, looks more thick and lustrous than you remembered it but his eyes are the same mesmerizing brown, flecks of golden light performing a beautiful ballet. His face somehow has stronger and more defined features - The dark eye brows are sloped downwards in a serious expression, his usually playful smile is drawn into a hard line across his face. A prominent jaw curves gracefully around and the strength of his neck shows in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body; strong arms, bold thighs and calves, a firm chest and abdomen. You unnecessarily remember how women used to sigh when he walked down the streets of the city beside you years ago.

As a boy though he didn’t attract the girls. He was far too chubby and his nearly hiding his eyes as he smiled. His horrible sense of style didn’t help either. But by fourteen he was shaping up, he had muscles from biathlon training and skiing all winter. By twenty it wasn’t just the girl who were after him. He had grown into the mesmerizing features you see before you, his bone structure was fine and perfectly symmetrical. It wasn’t exactly just manly. It was strangely beautiful.

He makes his way out of the partition of glass and stands still, searching for something on the boards hanging high above, dangling from the ceiling, before letting out a sigh of recognition and walking straight towards you. Even though you were here to pick him up, suddenly, your body is not cooperating, screaming at you to stray from your purpose. You desperately wish that he leaves without noticing you as you bury your face in your hands, hiding miserably from him. And it works because he goes straight pass you, his eyes only just missing you as he looks around, proceeding towards the taxi stand. You look up and over your shoulder and see him walk further and further away, before relaxing your tense body in relief. But as you return to normal, you remember what his mother said to you on the phone a couple of days ago, guilt surging up. ‘Take care of my son for me Y/n, please….He only has you there.’

Though your body is naturally protesting, hurriedly you push your chair back and stand up, shutting your laptop harshly and stuffing it into your bag hastily. Grabbing all your files in your arms and abandoning your coffee, you make your way rushing through the crowd, banging against a dozen shoulders, stepping on a couple of feet, muttering apologies and excuse mes. When you finally reach him, his back is facing you and he’s humming a beautiful something, tapping his foot, his dancer body slightly swaying. You uncertainly lick your lips, blinking too hard and too many times before extending a shaking arm to tap him softly on the shoulder, balancing the things you were carrying in the wedge created by your body and the other arm. But before you can even make contact with him, a certain unknown someone runs right into you, without noticing your outstretched arm, and everything you are holding tumbles to the ground.

“Bloody hell.” You mutter as you stare down at your scattered things, your violator having far disappeared in the crowd in whatever emergency his or her rushed act was out of. “Doesn’t even have the decency to apologize…”

“Y/n?”

You look up hearing his voice, as he turns around recognizing yours. His face is outlined with slight disbelief and pleasant shock.

“Jimin.” You breath out. You hadn’t taken a proper breath in so long.

And it takes a while, the two of you simply standing, staring at each other, drinking in the delicate details you had so badly missed the last three months. Things were so different before. Every time, every year you went to Seoul, things were so different…..

“Y/n!!!”

Jimin waves at you practically bouncing up and down like a mad man the moment he notices you walking through the crowd. You wave back even more enthusiastic, ignoring the momentary strict stare your father gives asking you to behave. But like always, he smiles seeing the two of you acting like the children, the years of friendship enough to melt his heart. You launch yourself into Jimin’s arms the moment you reach him and he hugs you back with an intensity that lifts you off your feet. As you pull back, red and flushed, Jimin beams at you putting you down, arms still around you.

“Oh thank god you’re finally here! Summer was getting boring without you.” He gives you a heartfelt, genuine smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“My summer is always fun, regardless of your presence.” You tease him smilingly as he laughs.

“That’s what you say all the time. But you know you need me Y/n.” He smirks playfully taking a bag from you, holding your hand instead. “You always want me to be there.”

It’s so true in so many ways but he doesn’t see it the way you want him to. You know he doesn’t and that he probably never will so you laugh it off. “Yeah, yeah, whatever….. Let’s go home! I’m dying to see everyone.”

“Right this way.” He smiles and leads you and your father to the car, your hand still in his.

“Y/n, you’re here?”

Jimin’s voice leaves him uncertainly before his lips curl into a small, warm smile. “I didn’t think you were coming…..”

“I wasn’t going to.” You confess falsely. “Your mother called me last night and said I should….you know I can never say no to her.”

“She worries too much.” The smile on his face turns fond at the memory of his mother. “Just because I’ve never been out of Korea till now, she probably thinks that one step into another country and I’m dumb enough to get myself killed.”

Normally you would have joked back or said something stupid. Something like ‘well she’s not wrong.’ or ‘She doesn’t think that, she knows you are dumb enough.’ But you don’t. Things have changed way too much between the two of you to casually let out something like that. Instead, you just nod.

“We should...um....We should pick up that.” Jimin gestures at the mess you are standing amidst, the mess you had long forgotten the moment you had seen his face. You quickly bend down mentally chiding yourself and Jimin mirrors your act, gathering all the papers, the two of you careful to not even accidentally brush each other’s hand.  

As you stand, he hands you the papers but doesn’t let go when you try to take them.

“I’m glad you came Y/n.” His voice is soft but you can’t tell if he’s happy to see you in particular or just anyone he knows in this unknown country. You tug the papers a little harder, subtly forcing him to let go and swallow nervously before answering, not meeting his eye.

“The car is this way.”

Jimin stares at you for a minute as you begin to walk away, disappearing in the crowd, before following. You keep discreetly glancing at him over your shoulder though, making sure you don’t lose him amongst these people but with the way his eyes are so carefully on you, you don’t think he’ll lose you at all.

When you reach the car, wordlessly the two of you haul the luggage in the boot and he sits in the passenger seat next to you as you take your place behind the steering. And the car moves forward, but there are no words being exchanged, no smiles, no laughters, no music playing, the windows aren’t rolled down. Instead all there is is the same silence that would have been there in the lack of human presence. Or when two strangers travel together.

You are only just getting accustomed to the unusual silence but it’s ruined before you can cherish it with the harsh ring of a phone call, the name of your boss flashing on the screen.

“Oh fuck.” Looking apologetically at Jimin for your choice of words, you hurriedly pick the call, forgetting for a moment that it’s attached to your car’s system and when the male voice booms through the speakers of the car Jimin looks utterly taken aback.

“Y/n.”

“Jin.”

“Ashley tells me you are at the airport. I only just remembered you took permission for the day off around last week.”

You briefly shut your eyes, annoyed that Jimin now knows your presence with him had been planned for a long time now. But he doesn’t seem to have noticed, going through his phone, probably taking it off flight mode to inform his worried mother about this safe arrival. It’s a stupid move, trying to look at his reaction because when you look ahead you are forced to slam the brakes as you notice the red signal and the cars aligned before you.

“Careful Y/n!” Jimin panics at your sudden act as you lean back, relieved that you were quick enough to avoid any damage with the car before you.

“Ah” Jin’s voice makes a return. “I see you have picked him up Y/n.” You can feel your knees shaking for some reason. “This must be Mr. Park.” And your heart beating faster once again. “The husband?”

You look straight ahead at the road, hands gripping the steering wheel a lot tighter than normal. Yet you can feel Jimin’s eyes on you and his throat move the same way as yours. But you say nothing.

Jimin blinks slowly before nodding pointlessly, his voice leaving him like an uncertain croak. “Yeah.”

“Well then my dear boy, I hope you know how fortunate you are to have a life partner as lovely as Y/n. She’s stubborn, oh yes. She’s unnecessarily stubborn, over thinks a lot more than necessary, can be a real pain in the ass sometimes. But she’s a sweetheart. An absolute gem of a person.”

It’s not your senior’s words that affect you. It’s Jimin’s reply to it. “I know.”

“So, do take good care of her young man. Get her to strain a little less at work. The poor woman hasn’t smiled in days.”

Jimin nods again. “I’ll do my best.”

“Now that’s like my boy!... and Y/n?”

“Yes sir?”

“Take your time with that report. I know your husband’s home after a long time and you’ll have…things you need to catch up on.” He snickers making your insides squirm uncomfortably. “I shall see you after the weekend. Take care and…have fun.” The noise of his laughter echoes in the car before he cuts the call.

Jimin doesn’t meet your eye after that for a long time. He pretends like he’s fascinated by London’s right hand driving unlike how he’s used to the left handed system in Seoul. You know though that though his eyes are on the road, his mind is not. Neither is yours anyway.

It takes another 45 minutes of silence to reach home. The home you had so far only shared with him financially. Now you had to share the same space as well. As you unlock the door and hold it open for him, Jimin walks in dragging his luggage behind, curiously looking around at the small but sufficient two story house which will now define his life.

You turn on the fans to get rid of the stuffy heat in the room. 

Jimin places his suitcase by the couch. 

You sit down on the couch. 

He sits down across you. 

You rub your hands together, not sure what else to do. 

Jimin is tapping his foot looking around. 

The awkward silence governs the place once more.

Jimin clears his throat a little too loudly. “Uh....It’s a nice place.”

You nod. “I was worried you wouldn’t like it because you didn’t see it before I bought it”

“Clearly that wasn��t a problem.” He looks up at the ceiling, observing the switched off lights. “I’ve always liked your choices anyways.”

It’s small things like this that he says that makes you hate his presence more. Things he lets out so casually without even thinking about how they might affect you. You think fast, trying to change the topic.

“I haven’t had the chance to fully furnish this place yet, I’ve been extensively busy the last three months so...”

“Oh that’s fine. I can help out now that I’m here.”

It would be a great help if you weren’t even here actually. 

“So…this is the living room.” You point as his eyes follow your finger. “The kitchen is that way. There’s a back door over there too. and a small garage outside. The stairs lead up to the second floor, one half of which is an open terrace, and the other half has a bedroom with an attached bathroom, the other bedroom is down here.”

Jimin nods, walking to the edge of the stairs, looking up as you prepare yourself to make certain things clear to him. “This my bedroom and office room. It’s perhaps the most occupied as of now. I’ve got a lot of things stacked there the past three months. The bedroom upstairs is empty...as of now.”

As of now. You want him to understand without you having to say it. Without having to say, this my room. I sleep here. That is your room, you sleep there and so we stay like this. Like strangers.

You can’t make out if he’s understood or not. He’s just looking at his hands, his face expressionless as he lifts it and sees you. “Is there food in the house? I haven’t had anything since last night....”

Food? He wants food? How is he being so casual with you? Rather, why is he being so casual with you?

“I don’t cook.” You confess. “Or eat at home much as a matter of fact so there’s nothing....there’s a convenience store down the street. There’s ramen and a couple of other stuff available there.”

“Really?” He looks so happy at the thought of eating Korean food overseas. The fact that right now he is feeling completely opposite to what you are going through, annoys you. “That’s good. I’ll get us something then. What do you want to eat-”

“I’m not eating here.” You hate it. You hate how normal he’s being with you. Things are not normal anymore. The two of you cannot be like this with each other anymore. “I had brunch and I’ll have something at the canteen in my workplace.”

“You’re going back to work?” Jimin looks confused “I though your boss said-”

You get up, fists forming balls, unable to take his casual behavior with you anymore.

“My work is most important to me Jimin.” You can feel your gaze harden with a strange anger. “I left my family, a business empire, the place I grew up in, everything. I left everything for my work. I don’t prioritize anyone or anything over it. Ever.”

Jimin looks surprised by your words but he composes himself quickly and nods. He opens his mouth to say something, apologize maybe. But you don’t want to hear it. You turn around, walking away and stop at the entrance. “The store is that way, down the street turn right.”

Jimin gets up and walks behind you, shutting the door behind him. As you get into the car, he walks out of the gate wordlessly. No kisses, no goodbyes. Only two strangers walking away.

As you turn left at the end of the street, Jimin turns right walking away under the sun and you watch through the mirrors of your car, the distance between you getting bigger and bigger.

And like that summer turned into autumn. 

Everything changed. The leaves turned into a beautiful orangish brown, fluttering along the wind. The weather got colder, the clouds, darker, and the day shorter. But nothing changed between Jimin and you. You both were still very much married, under the same roof but in different rooms, still like strangers.

For a week after Jimin’s arrival you barely made an effort to stay at home. You started spending more time in the labs, took responsibility for more experiments than you could handle, turned into more of a workaholic than ever. The few hours a day you came home, Jimin was either sleeping or he was out, roaming around clubs and bars like he used to back in the day. Though the few instances you were both at home at the same time, neither of you made an effort to talk to each other. You weren’t really avoiding or ignoring each other. Rather it was as though there was nothing to talk about. It was so strange in so many ways. Never in the last so many years did you and Jimin ever run out of things to talk about but here you were today, not even looking for excuses to converse.

Approximately two weeks later, Jimin took the decision to take over the family business. Since that day, it surprised you but he was around in the house for even less time than you were. Every morning you’d see him rush out dressed in formal suits, his laptop bag swung over his shoulder, still tightening his tie or putting on his cuff links as he hurried out. And when you came back he either not there or in his room taking some or the other conference calls.

You didn’t know why but Jimin’s attitude affected you. Even though he was doing the exact same thing you did all these days, his behaviour disappointed you. Because despite everything, despite how much you were distancing yourself from him, despite you not taking any effort to heal the fragile relationship between you two, somewhere deep down, you hoped at least Jimin would make an effort. You wished at least Jimin would try and talk to you. Even though you didn’t want to have a conversation with him or anything to do with him you wished he’d show some gesture that he cared, that all this means something to you.

But part of you was happy with how things were too, you didn’t want Jimin knowing how much this meant to you. You couldn’t imagine how much more complicated things would be then.

So since time waited for no one, days went by like that. Jimin didn’t making any efforts and so neither did you.

It is perhaps after this night that everything began to change.

It’s nearly two when you turn into your alley, switching off the headlights of your car. Usually at this time of the night, the lights of your house are the only ones on. Because unlike normal people who sleep, the dead of the night is your favorite companion to work with. Despite your absence, you expected the lights to be on, considering Jimin’s presence. But they’re not. Has he gone to sleep?

But Jimin always sleeps with a small light on. The dark windows of you house are suddenly making you feel peculiar.

Quickly turning into your garage, you park your car noticing Jimin’s car isn’t there yet. Hurrying a little you get out of your car and urgently tried to open the door to you house, only to find it unlocked. Opening it slowly, you step in carefully, fear gripping your heart with every step in the darkness. As you approach the sofa, you can hear the sounds of deep breathing and so you raise your laptop bag over your head and just before you smash it down you hear a familiar groan.

“Jimin?”

You quickly walk to the wall, flipping the switches on to see him sitting on the couch with his legs spread wide, tie loosened, blazer discarded by his side as his head rested back on the sofa.

“What the hell are you doing in the darkness Jimin, I got a fucking fright of my life.”

“I...uh….” He slurrs slowly stirring, pulling himself up. “I just….I probably fell asleep the moment I came....”

You frown a little at his voice. You can’t make out if he’s tired....or drunk. Jimin wasn’t really an alcoholic but his love for alcohol is not unknown to you. But he was working these days, so you thought he’d be staying away from all this for now. Did he get back into it? 

“Jimin did you drink?”

“What? No, no I-”

“Where’s your car? And why didn’t you lock the front door?”

“Yoongi dropped me home today, I wasn’t feeling so good, I sort of just walked in and fell on the couch. I must’ve forgotten to lock the door.”

Though you want to give Jimin a long lecture of what the repercussions of leaving the door unlocked were, you didn’t think it was a good idea seeing how tired he was.

“I should go shower, I have calls to make later.” Jimin gets up, taking one, two steps forward before his knees gave away and you immediately catch him, arms around his waist.

“Jimin, careful!” He balances himself with his arm around your shoulder as you help him straighten out. “What’s wrong with you?” You look at how pale he looks and how his eyes keep threatening to roll back. “When did you last eat Jimin?”

“Last night.” He speaks slowly as your mouth parted in shock.

“What? Last night? You haven’t eaten anything since last night? It’s bloody 2 Am in the morning Jimin that’s over 24 hours, why didn’t you eat?”

“I was busy. I had meetings and other-”

“There’s no excuse you can give as reason greater than having your meal Jimin.”

“I know but I genuinely had no time, maybe that’s why I feel so weak.”

Helping him stand properly you instantly make up your mind, worried about him.

“Sit, I’ll make something.” You drop your laptop bag and files on the couch and roll up your sleeves, walking towards the kitchen. Jimin walks behind you.

“You don’t need to Y/n, you’re probably tired. I’ll-”

“I don’t need you fainting around the house in exhaustion-”

“It’s just till tomorrow morning, I’ll get something to eat-”

“Just sit. Please.”

Jimin knows you for long enough to know when to not argue with you so he silently sits on the stool by the kitchen bar table as you proceed to wash your hands and then scrounge the cupboards for any not expired, edible ingredients. Finding a few you align them, cleaning and chopping them away, trying to whip up something as soon as you can. But you’re so immersed in your work, you don’t see Jimin who leaning on the surface of the table, slowly shutting his eyes, tiredness tempting his body to fall asleep.

It’s only when you fully prepare the meal that you see the fast asleep man, head resting on a single outstretched arm, and sit down across him. You watch him breathing rhythmically, lost in his own dream world - a world you had always longed to be a part of. The bowl of ramen next to you is letting out steam, growing cold, but you can only find yourself thinking of how different things were, once more.....

“Open your mouth.” You are holding a piece of Gimbap with chopsticks, waiting for Jimin to eat it.

“I’m full Y/n!”

“One last bite~ please.”

“It’s the fifth time you are saying that now.”

“Jimin.”

“Y/n.”

“Please.” You pout.

“No.” He pouts.

You narrow your eyes at him as he looks up at you, his head resting on your outstretched legs as the two of you picnic under the cherry blossom tree. “Get up then.”

“No, I like it like this.” He resumes reading his book, lifting it, hiding his face from you.

“But you don’t like eating food I made?” You pull the book from his grip as he protests then lets out a sigh.

“As your best friend Yn, I’ll be honest, it’s my duty to be honest. The food you cook...it tastes pathetic Y/n-”

“What?!”

“-I honestly, pity the man fated to marry you-”

“How dare you Park Jimin?”

“-He’s going to have a really tough time-”

“Get up.”

“What?”

“Get up you idiot. I’m leaving.” You snap, pushing him away, as he laughs, sitting up. As you try to stand, huffing, he holds your hand, eyes looking at you earnestly.

“Hey, you know I’m kidding right?”

“I don’t care.” You roll your eyes but he pulls you harder, and you fall onto your back on the mat, and he lies down next to you.

“You know whoever you marry will be one of the luckiest people on the planet right?” He turns his head to you, a fond expression filling his face.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You brush it off, but you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks.

“But just promise me on thing.”

“And what is that?”

“That you’ll never cook for him.”

“Jim-in!” You smack his chest but you’re laughing and so is he, the pink cherry blossoms gracefully falling around the two of you.

“Jimin?” You pat his hand as he slowly sits up, blinking multiple times. He looks at you yawning, then at the food on the table, the food that’s growing cold.

“Oh...I just closed my eyes for a minute.” He then sniffs the air and smiles. “Is that ramen?”

“Yeah.” You push the pot towards him, holding out chopsticks.  

“And you?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I’m still not hungry” Lies. A lie that is caught immediately because your stomach lets out a very audible grumble. Your ears turn red, embarrassed, as Jimin looks at you, his eyebrow still up.

He stands up and grabs a pair of chopsticks that are lying on the kitchen counter and hands it to you. “This is too much for me. I don’t want to waste food.”

Lies again. Jimin can eat a feast’s worth of food when he’s hungry. This is nothing. It was hardly enough for one person.

But because your stomach is demanding it so badly, you take it from him and the two of you eat from the pot, only sounds of slurping filling the kitchen. Hunger is such a powerful thing. Within minutes there is nothing left, not even slight evidence that there was food in the vessel some time ago. The two of you have finished it clean.

You stand up and wash your utensils. 

Jimin washes his. 

You wipe your hands with the towel. 

Jimin takes it after you and does the same. 

Slowly the two of you leave the kitchen, you behind him as you switch off the light with a click.

Jimin walks towards the couch, takes his bag and blazer and turns to you. He doesn’t say anything. 

And as usual, you don’t as well. 

But time is ticking and sleep is coming and the sun is only a few hours away from rising.

“Do you feel better now?”

“Yeah, much. Thank you, Y/n.”

You nod. “I’ll just....I should go....” You point to your bedroom awkwardly and Jimin immediately agrees. “Yeah me too.”

He turns around and walks away, up the stairs, till he reaches the last step and you hear him mutter something. Something he perhaps didn’t wish you’d hear.

“Goodnight Y/n.”

You smile sadly at that. At how difficult it was to say something that simple out loud. But you find yourself whispering as well.

“Goodnight Jimin.”

And days went by like that.

Even though you both were as busy and uninteractive as before, both of you had somehow come to a small silent agreement. 

The day after he fainted, you went to the supermarket and stored all your cupboards with proper edible items that you could cook with. That night you made Jimin a meal more decent than ramen and waited for him for long. It was a little stupid decision because you had no idea when he’d be back and you knew from how things have been the past few months that Jimin usually came home very, very late. The next morning you had somehow woken up in your bed, the last thing you remembered being, waiting for him in the dining room, perhaps sleeping on the table itself. When you confusedly came out of your room you noticed the house was silent which meant Jimin wasn’t here but on the table was a small note next to a glass of milk and a bowl of cereal.

“Dinner was amazing thank you Y/n but please, don’t wait up so late for me. Also I noticed you have a bad habit of not having breakfast, so here’s something for you. - Jimin”

You smile at the note a little, sitting down to eat what he laid out for you. Right before you left though you scribbled a small Thank you on a paper and left it at the exact same place for him to find.

And that soon became a routine. Every night you would make a simple dinner, keep his share aside with a small note with two words thanking him for breakfast and every morning you’d wake up to breakfast laid out for you, with a note thanking you for dinner. After a while, thanking each other like this was exhausting and silly but you both somehow made it a point to do it. It was the only form of interaction you had anyways and those two words said so many things to you.

If he scribbled it messily you could tell it was a long day for him and he’s tired. If there was an exclamation mark you could tell he was really hungry and actually really grateful for having dinner. On the rare days he drew a smiley, you knew the food tasted really nice. Once he drew a small heart though. You had no idea what that could have meant.

Sometimes he even left you messages. You remembered walking in one morning to see a longer note than usual.

“My office needed an eraser badly, taking one of your rubbery chickens to do the job. Loved dinner! Thank you.”

You genuinely laughed out loud at his message, quickly losing it to a realisation that even after being miles apart, despite everything, Jimin could still make you smile. Nevertheless, in response you scribbled back,

“I hope my chicken has served you well, meanwhile I have eaten so much cereal I’d could be called a serial killer.”

The next morning you met with a response that made you smile again.

“The chicken did it’s duty beyond expectations. Also I cannot believe you made such a horrible joke.. Here’s something to make you less of a murderer.”

And on the table was a plate with toast and jam and Jimin made you smile once more as you sat down to eat.

It is maybe two months or so after things are going this way.

You are quietly laying out dinner on the table for yourself one Friday night when you hear the front door being opened. When you glance at the clock it’s 12, too early for Jimin to come back home. But when the door opens it indeed is Jimin with a couple of bags in his hands as though he had shopped somewhere.

“You’re early today.”

He looks taken aback by your voice, not expecting your presence.

“And you’re later than usual.” He observes looking at the clock as he walks in.

“There’s a new project starting in the lab,” You walk into the kitchen and so does he. “I had some quotation work to submit.”

“You’re in charge of it?”

You nod, smiling at the thought. You were so happy when Jin asked you to finally take charge of one of the labs biggest, most important experiments ever. It was such an honour and you had been waiting for months for such an opportunity.

“That’s great Y/n. You worked so hard all these days, you totally deserve it.”

“Thank you Jimin. But what about you?”

“Well.” He sets down the bags on the kitchen bar table looking relieved. “My latest project just ended and so, no more extra hours to put in.” He smiles at you looking happy. “This is my first project since I took over but the best part is it also happens to be the biggest successful project the company has ever seen Y/n.”

“Jimin that’s amazing.” You lean over, elbows on the surface, standing across him. “I’m so happy and so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” He reaches out and holds your hand in his, slowly stroking the back of it with his thumb. “It would have been very hard if not for you.”

“Me? But I didn’t do anything-”

“I’m so thankful that you’re around. Despite eating in high end restaurants for lunch every day, I’m grateful to have your simple dinner when I come back home. I’m glad that because of you, there’s a home to come back to. It makes me happy that you’re my home Y/n.”

You gulp on nothing at his words. You don’t want to hear them. You don’t ever want to hear such words. Slowly you take your hand back from him as he lets it go, feeling a little awkward too and you clear your throat.

“What’s all this?” You look pointedly at the bags he placed on the counter.

“Oh that? Champagne. I thought today was worthy of a little celebration and luckily, you’re here too. We can celebrate together. A toast for the start of a great project and completion of another.”

The moment he suggests spending time together, you instantly want to say no. You don’t want to eat with him and most definitely don’t want to celebrate. You know that despite wanting to live with him as a stranger you went out of your way, making his meals for him and all that, but you were constantly worried. You were worried Jimin was going to get the idea that things were okay between you two and things were going to get better now. But you didn’t want anything to get okay, you didn’t want anything to change from how they currently were. It took a lot of strength and courage for you to reach the decision of keeping distance and you did want to maintain it. So this dinner was the worst idea there could be, you should have said no.

But you were happy today and so was he. You both were happy for your own reasons and just for tonight you thought maybe, just maybe it was okay. It was perhaps okay to forget everything for just one night and let loose and enjoy the aspects of his presence that made you happy. You wanted to forget for once that you were married, and how and why you were married, you wanted to forget everything and just enjoy with a man who had just as much reason to celebrate as you. So you look at him for a thoughtful second and nod slowly and Jimin smiles both happily and with relief.

“Not all of that isn’t champagne though.” He loosens his tie and rolls up his sleeves as he walks in to take out two glasses. You steer your eyes far away from him. “Some of them are cereal boxes, the household was running out of breakfast.”

You smile at his thoughtfulness as you slowly begin stacking the boxes in the cupboard, while Jimin cleans the barely used glasses.

“And that?” Other than the champagne bottle there is only one, a much fancier bag sitting on the counter that hardly looked like it came from a grocery store.

“Oh that, yeah I was meaning to talk to you about it. Why don’t you open it, I’ll be back.”

Jimin grabs the glasses and bottle walking away to the dining table as you slowly pull out a black box from the bag and lift its lid. By the looks of it, it’s a dress, a deep red one, the kind of colour Jimin always told you suited you the best and as you run your hand over it you could tell its beauty from the feel of the material under your fingers.

“Do you like it?” Jimin returns, leaning by the doorway.

“Yeah who wouldn’t, it looks beautiful but….why this…”

“There’s a celebration party tomorrow in the evening and everyone insisted on meeting you and I’d like it if they all know you too. I thought it would be nice to gift you something to wear on the occasion.”

“Jimin…” You hesitate not knowing how to tell him. “That...that’s sweet of you but I work on Saturdays, tomorrow is a working day for me and I’ve just been made in charge of a project I shouldn’t…..”

“Oh.” Jimin’s face falls but in an instant, he changes his expression. “It’s alright I totally get it….um work first, I know. It’s okay you can meet them all some other time, I hopefully will have many more successful projects like this.”

“You will Jimin, I know you will.”

“Anyways we have wine and dinner for tonight, this should be celebration enough.”

You nod slowly and apologetically as you close the box and put it back in its bag. Jimin walks into the dining room and as you follow and sit down on the chair he’s already pulled out for you. Being the over excited person he is, he shakes the bottle a little, before popping it open, spilling the drink everywhere.

“We have to clean all that you know.” You hand him the glasses, as he begins to pour into them, brushing away your concerns.

“There’s no point of champagne if we don’t do that.” He hands you a glass and takes one himself. “To me for finishing my first of many projects and to you for embarking on another of your many successful projects.” He raises his glass, clinking it with yours. “To us.”

“To us.” You carefully repeat and take a sip as Jimin downs the entire glass in a gulp.

“Oh god Jimin.” You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head, reminded of the wild sixteen-year-old rebellious Jimin. “I can’t believe you still drink alcohol like that.”

Jimin nods slowly swallowing it to the last drop. “Yeah, I do. Nothing’s changed Y/n, I don’t know why anything should.”

You look up, placing your glass down, wondering what he truly means as he avoids your eye. Was he talking about you? You hoped not. You were hoping this dinner wasn’t going to involve this sort of conversation, you didn’t want to regret this decision. But now he was bringing up whatever is between two of you. You should make it clear. You should tell him that yes, things had changed, they aren’t friends anymore and nothing was going to change them back to that. But Jimin doesn’t give you the chance to talk.

“Don’t worry Y/n, I just wanted to get a proper taste, it’s been a while since I’ve touched alcohol.” He sits down leaning back. “I can’t wait till tomorrow’s party is over, God I can’t wait to drink like a normal human again.”

“Normal humans don’t drink like you Jimin, please.”

Nodding in agreement and pouring himself another glass, Jimin laughs at that, and you instantly forget all you had to talk to him about.

And as the two of you ate and drank for over two hours that night, you didn’t remember the last time you talked to Jimin so much. It had been years. Years since just the two of you had such interactions and you loved every minute of it. You loved every minute you talked to Jimin. You loved everything he told you about his business and what he did, you loved it when he so keenly listened about all your experiments though you knew he didn’t understand anything. You told him all about how you found this house and he told you all about how he made little changes to it that you didn’t even notice.

Conversation was going so smoothly that for a while you really did forget everything. You forgot you were wedded and your relationship was barely a marriage. You forgot how for months together the both of you barely didn’t have a decent conversation. You forgot that now you were no longer those bickering teenagers who hung out together all the time. You forgot all this until dinner was over and there were no reasons left to continue conversation which meant, it was time to go. It was time for him to go to his room and for you to go to yours. That was when reality came crashing on you. That the last two hours of your life were a beautiful lie and now it was time to face the harsh reality. That this was a one-time thing and you weren’t going to allow it to happen again. That after tonight, despite whatever happened, nothing would change. You would still be strangers.

You look up at Jimin, preparing to tell him about this, but he beats you to the conversation.

“My ceiling is chipping off.” Jimin casually mentions as you stack the plates one above the other, clearing the table.

“What?” You look up confused, stopping your work.

“The fake ceiling? It’s plaster of paris is sort of cracking and falling apart, I was wondering if you had any contacts who could help me get it fixed.”

“You’re telling you were staying in a room where the ceiling could have potential just broken and crashed on you anytime, without a warning?”

Jimin blinks at you slowly. “….yes?”

“What the hell Jimin?” You look at him incredulously. “What if something had happened, what if it fell? Why didn’t you ask me before?”

“I…I don’t know….I didn’t get the chance to talk to you I guess.” You fall silent at his words. “Besides it only got worse today morning so I was meaning to talk to you about it tonight…which is now, so yeah, do you know anyone?”

“Yeah I do but it’s too late at night to get it fixed now.”

“I’ll get it done sometime over the weekend that’s okay-“

“And you’re going to stay there till then?”

Jimin nods his head and you let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how you are handling a business so big Jimin when you’re so dumb-“

“-Hey!-“

“Why in the world would you stay there after knowing its dangerous?-”

“Where else am I supposed to go?!-”

“This is no hut Jimin! It’s a proper, big two storey house are you telling me you’ve got no place-“

“Well, to sleep there’s only one other bedroom genius!-“

“Then go sleep there, you idiot!”

Jimin stutters at that and lowers his voice. “You sleep there. That’s your room.”

You fall silent along with him as he looks at you for a whole minute in deep thought then turns away.

“Look Y/n, it’s alright I-“

“Fine.”

“What?” Jimin is actually taken aback.

“Till your ceiling gets fixed you can sleep in my room.” It was a matter of a couple of days. You couldn’t prioritise Jimin’s safety over your stubbornness or relationship or whatever the whole deal and complication was.

“And you?” Jimin squinted, frowning a little in worry.

“I’ll sleep in kitchen.” You roll your eyes, walking away from the table taking the dishes with you. “Of course, I’ll sleep in my room Jimin, where else will I go?”

“With me?” You hear the sound of the chair moving backwards as you set the dishes in the sink, back facing him. Taking a deep breath, you nod.

“Yeah. With you.” You turn around to see him walking into the kitchen with the rest of the things in his hand. “If you don’t mind that is.”

“No, no! Of course not, besides….” Do not say we’ve done this multiple times Jimin. Don’t say it, not now. “It is your room.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Yeah, well, so that’s settled then.”

What you thought was a matter of just a dinner, just extended to a couple more days. But genuinely though, you didn’t mind. Health, safety and all of those sorts of things first. That’s why even though you were worried all those dinners gave Jimin the wrong idea, you didn’t mind. It gave you peace knowing he had at least proper meal a day. You could make things go back to what they were once everything was sorted. You could resume your general routine of being strangers once everything was alright again.

“I’ll help you clear up those.” Jimin steps up offering to do the dishes, but you stop him.

“No, that’s okay I’ll do it. You should go shower.” You know Jimin couldn’t sleep at night without showering. “I should be done here by the time you finish and then I’ll use the bathroom. Time will be saved that way because it’s getting late, I have work tomorrow.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, go.”

Jimin slowly leaves the kitchen nodding and you hear his footsteps getting softer and softer, finally allowing your tense shoulders relax and you let out the breath you had been holding. 

Did you do the right thing? Propping your elbows on the surface, you half buried your face in your hands, pushing your fringes back. You just allowed Jimin to stay with you, in the same room. How did you go from barely seeing each other to living in same space, overnight? Why did this even happen? You had no idea how this was going to complicate things. After those conversations over dinner today and now this arrangement you had no idea how close you’d have to get to him and how much harder it will be now to go further. But like you thought before, if that meant he was safe, then maybe you could once more overlook and forget for now, what the repercussions all this meant.

After washing up quickly, silently you head to your room, calculating that by now Jimin must have finished showering and perhaps already gone to sleep so you confidently go into your room, not expecting to have to interact with him again. When you enter the room though, he is standing by the window with his back faced to you, talking softly on the phone, turning around at the sound of you opening the door. Quickly looking away you walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, feeling nervous all over again. Sure, you had a long, casual two hour dinner and conversation with Jimin, and just sleeping in the same room as him should be no big deal. Sure, you had done this multiple times when you were young – sharing a bed, sleeping in his clothes, often with your limbs tangled under the sheets and now just lying down on the same bed shouldn’t be any different. 

But it is. He wasn’t just a friend now, he was your husband, a man you married and all this seemed way too domestic now and that was exactly what you couldn’t have happening.

Washing your face, hoping to wash away your confused thoughts with it, you step out, and see that he’s lying on the bed now, his side of the lights switched off allowing you to see only a silhouette of his frame. You breath a sigh of relief, glad that at least further interaction could be avoided now and step into your wardrobe, changing into your pajamas when you hear him.

“You called my mother.”

“What?” You call out from inside, stripping out of your shirt.

“My mother called me after a long time today, said she heard about me nearly fainting and all that.”

“She called and asked.” You remember how the very next day after that night, his mother had called to inquire about the two of you. It was a true mother’s instinct. From all the way across the world she could sense her son wasn’t doing well. ‘He’s never had to struggle like this before Y/n, help him out. He needs you.’ That’s what she said and that’s what you did.

“How did she know I wasn’t doing well?”

“She’s your mother. She loves and cares for you. Of course she-“

“And you?”

You stop halfway through as Jimin’s question takes you aback. “What about me?”

“Do you?” If he was right in front of you, you know he would be looking you straight in the eye. Maybe then you would know which Jimin was asking this question. The man who is your husband or the man who was your friend? “Did you do all this, all these dinners and notes and coming to the party and all, was it because of love…. or responsibility?”

“I don’t understand.” You slip into your pyjamas quickly.

“Of course you do, if you weren’t smart enough to then you would never become a scientist.” You hear him let out a small laugh as you step out of the wardrobe, looking towards him keenly. “You’re a daughter Y/n and your father’s business needed to be saved, so you married me. I’m a son and my father’s business needed an heir and so despite how much I hate this corporate world, here I am doing it. We both are doing our responsibility as the children of our parents. But the woman who called to ask about me, my mother, she didn’t do it out of duty or responsibility…..that was out of love…..Y/n, it’s either love or responsibility that drives our actions and our decisions. Which one was it for you?” You stop by the mirror, looking at him through the reflection, still only seeing darkness. “All this….was this love or responsibility?”

“What kind of a silly question is this Jimin?” You go on to do your skincare routine, trying to avoid his question, but Jimin is persistent.

“Love or responsibility Y/n?”

You take a deep breath, turning around towards him. “Look Jimin, I don’t know what you want right now okay, but your mother specifically asked me to take care of you when you came here because you’re away from home for the first time, this is a new place and all, so of course I can’t have you fainting around the house because you can’t eat a meal on time-“

“So it was responsibility?” You can feel Jimin looking at you intently. “You’re doing this because my mom asked you to?”

“Yes…I mean no…I’d do it even if she didn’t, to be honest-“

“So it’s love?”

You stare at Jimin into the darkness not knowing what he wants. 

You understand though, why he suddenly has so many questions – it’s because you let him have them. Because having this dinner with him like this today meant that you let him. Allowing him to stay here with you meant you let him. You subtly told him it was okay and that maybe things were getting better, that either things were changing or could change. But nothing was going to change. You couldn’t have things getting anymore complicated than they were. When you had decided to maintain distance, why didn’t you follow it? What did you attempt to mend the bridges and cover the distance, showing him that you cared?

“No. You’re right. It’s responsibility. But not just because your mother asked me but even for the sake of humanity. If we are living together then I think it’s natural for me to have to care for you. Does this answer your question?”

Jimin lets out a short laugh and turning to lie on his back. “I thought so.”

A silent minute passes by.

“And you?” You rubbed cream onto your hands, casually sliding the question. “What were those breakfasts for? Was that love or responsibility?”

Jimin is quiet for a bit. “I don’t think they are different things. Love and responsibility.”

You roll your eyes and start to walk towards the switches. “That literally was the easiest way to avoid giving an answer.”

“Responsibility.” Jimin calls out after you, as you switch off the remaining lights with a click. “If you want an honest, proper answer, then it’s responsibility…..”

“I thought so.” You reply, pulling the curtains shut, back facing him but he whispers something. You might have heard wrong. But he says something, something that sounded a lot like. “…..And love.”

When you turn around surprised, he’s turned around too, back facing you, not saying anything anymore. As you slowly slip into the covers, wondering if he’s asleep and if you should ask him if he actually said that, you hear him.

“Good night Y/n.”

You remember the last time you heard him say that, rather how you barely heard him say that. How things have changed since then. They need to go back there, you couldn’t have this happening, they need to go back to being distant. So you turn, back towards him and shut your eyes.

“Good night Jimin.”

The next evening you found yourself standing outside the hotel address you got from Jimin’s secretary all dressed appropriately for his success party – hair in a sleek bun, a floor length dress and slightly painful heels.

You thought about everything a lot since the morning. Sure, work was important but this was Jimin’s first success party. All his employees, everyone would be there. It would barely look nice for him to go alone when they all especially knew he was married. But you had just taken over the project yesterday and it would give a terrible impression to take a leave the very next day. What kind of view would that give your subordinates, what if they start seeing you as a slacker? And you bounced back and forth until you finally came to a decision. 

You couldn’t let him go like that, the question was more than about sentiments it was about reputation as well. Reputation of both families and the company. Your presence there was important, you had to go.

When you looked for Jimin to tell him in morning expecting to see him the house now that he was more free, you didn’t find him. Instead on the dining table was the usual bowl of cereal and milk and a note.

“I really did enjoy last night Y/n. Thank you for being there. If you want to then maybe we can do this again sometime.”

You frowned at it. No. You couldn’t do this again. Yes you did enjoy last night, you enjoyed it like you enjoyed every minute you spent with Jimin all these years. But unlike before, these days things seem to have to come to an end and it was always an end that gave pain. You couldn’t let yourself keep walking down that road. Maybe deciding to go to the party was a wrong idea after all.

But here you are, slowly following the way to Jimin’s party hall, telling yourself this isn’t about you and him but the Park family and it was just a matter of one more night. It went from one dinner, to one night of sharing the same room as him, to another night of putting up the act of being his better half. One more pretense couldn’t hurt, you’d talk to him about keeping distance once this was over, you were sure you would.

Stopping right at the large entrance seeing the hundreds of people there, your social anxiety suddenly kicks in, telling you that you can turn back right now, you can go back to the lab and do your own work, alone, in silence. You can avoid interacting people and talking and all those things that made you fearful but you were here for not as a wife, not as a friend but the co-owner of the company and so you decide to stay.

Walking in towards the gathered crowd you realize that Jimin is standing in the middle of them all addressing them, thanking them for their efforts.

“……and you have all made this possible today. It’s not the company’s or it’s owners achievement. It’s the result of each and every one of your hard work and dedication. So thank you so much for everything and……” He trails off as his eyes fall on you while scanning the crowd and he breaks into a wide smile. “And there’s someone else who cannot be missed.” He walks towards you, ignoring your slight shakes of the head asking him not to draw the attention to you as he holds you by the hand pulling you to the center, next to him, hand around your waist.

“Meet my wife everyone, Mrs. Park Y/n, one of biggest pillars of support and one of my best friends in the whole world.” You try to make your smile seem as happy as possible but you didn’t think you could. Not when your heart was shattering knowing that what he said isn’t true anymore. As everyone claps for you and then disperses as Jimin announces that dinner is being served, he turns towards you, smiling brilliantly.

“I’m so happy you came Y/n.”

“I wanted to tell you in the morning but you left before I was even up.”

“I had arrangements to do for the party so….” You see him glance over at your dress, a periwinkle blue evening gown which was one of your absolute favourites.

“I wanted to wear the dress you bought but-“

“It’s okay Y/n, no pressure –“

“It didn’t fit me. I couldn’t get it altered in time so-“

“Really? I thought I had the size right?” Jimin looks thoughtful. “Tight or loose?”

“Tight.” You mumble as Jimin smiles a little.

“Someone putting on a little weight huh?”

“I blame you and your breakfasts.” You snap back and Jimin laughs throwing his head back, letting you hear what you always thought was one of the most beautiful sounds ever.

“Don’t even get me started about your dinners then.”

“Oh yeah,” You narrow your eyes at him. “Say something about my dinners, I dare you, Park Jimin.”

Jimin pretends to be scared as he hands you a glass of champagne and holds your hand, walking with you. “Oh no, I have no interest in dying so soon Y/n, I need to survive through this party.”

“After the party then.” You take a small sip. “Maybe over another dinner and a glass of wine.”

Jimin smiles widely, understanding your reply to his note in the morning, squeezing your hand gently. “I’d love that.”

And once again you messed up. 

Once again, lost in the moment you shared with him you forgot you were not supposed to lead him on or give him any ideas of things becoming normal between you two. You didn’t want to have another dinner with him, you didn’t even want the first one. But here you were, silent once more, just because he was happy, just because he smiled and once again for him, you seem to be willing to shatter your heart.

You walk around with him hand in hand, talking to everyone as you stand by his side. Jimin is careful of you the entire time. He knows how you feel around crowds, how anxious and nervous you get, so he doesn’t make you talk to more than a few people at a time. He introduces you to everyone though, the words - My wife Park Y/n - in his voice are ringing through your ears the entire night. It feels surprisingly nice though, to have a reason to be out here next to him and allow yourself to pretend everything was normal. Maybe that’s why you weren’t saying anything. Because deep down, somewhere you wanted this normal relationship with him too despite forcing yourself to stay away from him. You want him but you push yourself away knowing you can’t have him, and Jungkook’s arrival confirms exactly that for you, crumbling everything between you and Jimin, pushing the reset button of your relationship.

“You’re looking for someone?” You watch as Jimin constantly has his eyes on the entrance.

“Huh?” Jimin turns to you. “Yeah, yeah Jungkook is coming.”

Jungkook, a really good friend of Jimin. After you left to London, Jimin often told you he only had Jungkook with him there. Since the two of you were a part of Jimin’s life at very different time periods, you had never met Jungkook but you were always thankful that unlike you, after you shifted to London at the age of 16, Jimin never found himself alone. After a few years though, Jungkook had left the city because of his own personal reasons but had kept in touch with Jimin regularly, until recently, before he left for the army.

“He said he’d be here around 10,” Jimin looks at his wrist watch. “but it’s half past and he’s still not here.”

“Maybe he’s still busy at work?”

“No no, he promised he’d come, and not for me that too, for you.”

“For me?”

“He’s been wanting to meet you for a while now, keeps getting mad that I didn’t invite him to the wedding all…..” Jimin trails off as you understand. “Anyways, if he’s not here I’ll make sure he-“

“Guess we will never find out because JK is already here.” Jimin turns around to see Jungkook standing right behind as his face lit up and he hugs the younger man.

“Kookie thank fuck!” He laughs pulling back. “I was scared you wouldn’t come.”

“Of course I was coming, just got stuck in the traffic and some issues but well, well who do we have here?” Jungkook turns towards you smiling. “Mrs.Park, Jimin always told me you were very beautiful and he couldn’t be more right.”

You turn slightly surprised towards Jimin, hoping he wouldn’t see the slight blush on your face but your eyes meet his faltering smile.

“Kookie,” Jimin starts with a soft voice you could barely hear. “This is my wife, Park Y-“

“Thank you Jungkook. Jimin’s told me a lot about you too.” You look at the both of them, though still not understanding why Jimin seemed tensed to you.

“Has he now? All good I hope, after all after Y/n, it’s only me who was with him to listen to all the nonsense that comes out of his mouth.”

You frown a little as he goes on. Why is he referring to you in third person when you were right before him? You want to ask him but Jungkook goes on.

“So tell me Karen, how is it being married to Park Jimin?”

And at that point everything makes sense. Jimin’s faltering smile, his tensed look, everything makes sense because he realised this was coming. Jimin immediately steps up putting his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Her name is Y/n. Park Y/n.”

Jungkook looks confused as his eyes flicker between you and Jimin as Jimin looks at him pointedly.

“Jungkook, since you’ve just arrived, how about you go ahead and grab a drink, we’ll join you soon.”

Jungkook nods understandingly, shooting you an apologetic look as he walks away into the crowd. Jimin immediately turns to you, holding your hand.

“Y/n I’m sorry he had no idea….He only knew I got married, he didn’t know it was you, I couldn’t contact him much from the army and-“

“Jimin.” You clear your throat, not in a state to listen to him. “I’m sorry I’m not feeling too well-“

“Y/n, please, it was-“

“I don’t want to hear anything right now Jimin!” You contain yourself from being loud. “Look, my head hurts and you know I don’t feel comfortable in environments like this. I’ve had more than I can handle tonight, I’m sorry but I should leave.”

“Okay, I’m coming, just give me a minute-”

“No you’re not.” You pull your hand out of his grip. “I’m taking a cab home. You can return whenever you’re done with your party.”

“At least listen to me once Y/n-“

You ignore his words turning around and walking away, as you know he’s watching you and watching as once more, circumstances start putting distance between you two again. Half teary eyed you stand outside the hotel, desperately trying to hail a cab and finally getting into one. Sitting behind you lean back, looking out of the window remembering when you first heard the name Karen.

You are sitting down next to Jimin at the dining table, both of you bickering not like you usually did but more seriously arguing in hushed tones this time.

“Jimin we need to talk.”

“What is it?”

“Not here. I need you step out with me.”

Jimin looks around the table at the members of both your and his family. “Y/n, how are we to leave when everyone is already sitting-“

“It doesn’t matter, it’s urgent.”

“Then you should have said something earlier, before we all came and sat-“

“I called you about 20 times since last evening. Why didn’t you pick up then?”

“My phone was dead for majority of the time Y/n, and I thought since anyway we were meeting today we could talk. Let’s talk after dinner-“

“We can’t Jimin. There’s no point of saying anything after this dinner, after your parents make the announcement. Please, I just need to talk for a bit-“

“So you know what my parents are going to announce today?” Jimin looks at you both surprised and curious. “What is it Y/n, why have they gathered us all-“

“Exactly I’ll tell you all about if you just step out with me-“

“There’s someone at the door.” Everyone stops murmuring across the table immediately, turning towards the butler standing at the entrance as Jimin gets up.

“I think I know who it is.” You can see the nervousness in him. “Just give me a minute.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. For real? All the while you asked him to leave with you and he refused, but he got up and left for whoever this person is? Who is this person?

Jimin answers your question instantly by walking back with a girl, who stood meekly behind him. Other than the fact that she seemed slightly shorter, you couldn’t help but notice how strikingly similar to you she looked. Her hair, her skin, her dressing style, everything. But who is she?

Jimin slowly holds her by the hand bringing her next to him as he uncertainly clears his throat.

“Everyone, meet Karen, my girlfriend, the woman I love and the one I wish to marry.”

And for the second time that week, your world comes crashing, shattering around you.

“We’re here miss.” The taxi driver calls out to you, forcing your eyes open. Paying him you step out, walking through the front gate and the door to your house, all the way up the stairs into your bedroom. Quickly stripping out of your dress and throwing it aside, you fall back into the sheets of your bed, the tears you are holding back starting to leak out of your eyes.

Karen. 

Jimin’s girlfriend for 2 years. The woman Jimin loves. Deep down you knew she’d be back in your life and relationship. Truth was, she never was third person here, you were. You never wanted to and you never thought you’d come between her and Jimin but fate had different plans. And that very fate was reminding you again what a miserable story it had written for you. A story of distance. Tonight had reminded you about everything again.

Marrying him had changed everything. The relationship between you two and the expectations you had from it, everything had changed. You weren’t best friends Jimin and Y/n anymore, you were now Mr. and Mrs. Park. The friendship between you two was gone, replaced by a relationship you both weren’t able to accept whole heartedly. You were in love with Jimin yes, all your life but he was in love with another and he could never be yours the way you wanted him to. If Jimin knew how you felt, you knew he would try. He would at least try to love you back like you did, but you didn’t want love as charity or pity. You didn’t want his love in return for yours, you wanted him to love you as you. But he didn’t. He never did. Not before being married to you and not after either. And after becoming his wife, knowing he didn’t see you as one, broke your heart. It really did break your heart to see that Jimin still saw you as a friend. That day, after three months when he met you at the airport, it was evident. Nothing had changed for Jimin like it did for you. You were still his best friend for him but you didn’t want to be that anymore. You couldn’t bear knowing that for him you were no more than a friend. You thought it would hurt less to stay away from him than realise this fact every day by staying with him. That’s why you put distance. That’s why you decided to staying with him as strangers did under the same roof. It was the only way you were together, yet not forcing each other to engage in any relationship that neither of you wanted to be in. Not friendship and not marriage.

You questioned it sometimes though, especially ever since you both started making meals for each other. Whenever Jimin’s notes made you smile, you really thought what you were doing was dumb. The last many years you had lived being his friend, knowing he didn’t love you like you did and when you were okay with it then, then why not now? You could at least be close to him for some or the other reason. Dinner last night made you question yourself even more and that’s why maybe even though you thought tons of times yesterday night about talking to Jimin about keeping distance, you never really could do it. Because deep down you didn’t want to stay away from him. But tonight just told you, you were right, you weren’t dumb. Keeping distance was the right thing. Just for a few seconds of smiling you couldn’t have your heart breaking again and again. Tonight, everything was going to end.

Or so you thought.

Suddenly there’s a crash outside and you instantly sit up, worried at the noise. Quickly pulling your night gown over your almost bare body, you rush down the stairs to see Jimin slowly walking in, stumbling a little as the vase near the entrance lies shattered by the door.

“Jimin, are you drunk?” You walk towards him cautiously, frowning a little.

“Tipsy.” He claims as he walks in, tripping over his own feet. You rush to catch him, as he relaxes his head on your shoulder, clearly more than just tipsy. Walking him to the sofa, you help him sit and proceed to go to the kitchen when he grabs your hand.

“Jimin, let me go-“

“Stay with me Y/n.”

“I’m going to get you water, you need it, let go Jimin-“

“I don’t need water, I need you.” Jimin sighs. “Stay Y/n please….It’s been so long. So long since you and I…..I want my best friend back. I want those days back when we used to hang out and talk and laugh together. I want to see you all the time like I used to before, I want us to be us again. Why did things change Y/n? Why have we become this?”

“I….” You breathe out exasperated. “Let’s not talk about this now Jimin, not when you’re like this-“

“But we’ve been living together for months when I was sober, why didn’t we talk about it then?”

“Why are you asking me this question now? Why didn’t you ask then?”

“Because I wanted to believe nothing had changed. I wanted to believe that the two of us were genuinely too busy to be with each other than trying to become busy so we don’t have be with each other. I wanted to believe that the friendship between us is still there but I saw it today Y/n, it’s not there. We don’t understand each other like we used to, we don’t talk or share or do anything like we used to. I don’t understand what we’ve become and why, I just………I just can’t find any answers.”

You love Jimin but he loves another. This relationship and marriage between you two was a failure from the start, that’s why the two of you are like this. That is the answer. As simple and as complicated as that.

You open your mouth to tell him but he stops you. “But at the same time, I don’t want any explanations either. I don’t want to know, I don’t want you to tell me. Because can’t you see how I am without knowing why things between the two of us are like this? Can you imagine how I’ll be when I know why? My heart tells me I can’t handle it. So don’t explain anything.” He finally looks up at you, his eyes a little glassy. “Please.”

You stare back at him, a sense of hopelessness and fatigue taking over. He looks away as though he cannot bear to look at you anymore, leaving you helpless, not knowing what to do. You sit down across him on the tea table, a little far yet near him and the two of you once more begin to search for words in the silence.

“But you need to know Jimin. It’s my fault. It’s my fault for not telling you from the beginning. You need to know why it’s so important for us to keep away-“

“I don’t want to keep away Y/n! I never wanted to. You want to. It was your choice, your decision, your actions, everything is about you. Did you think about me? About how I felt about this distance? About how I felt losing my best friend?-“

“We aren’t best friends anymore Jimin.” You get up, annoyed that he was bringing it up again and again. “We aren’t and you know that.”

“But why not Y/n, why did that change? Why did changing our relationship status from single to married have to change anything between us? You and I were always friends, why can’t we still be that?” Jimin makes you sit again, holding your hand. “Nothing had changed for me when you became Mrs.Park Y/n. I still love and care about you like I used to, but it’s changed for you. I don’t know why but if you wanted me to know about it then you would have told me so I trust you enough to believe whatever you are doing has reasons important enough but I just want one favour in return of these months of silence you’ve created…..I can’t do this anymore Y/n. I tried, this whole staying away from you, not talking, not sharing, I can’t do this anymore, it hurts me way more than I can bear to stay away. I want you back, I want my best friend back, Please, help me Y/n.” He leans forward, burying his head at the crook of your shoulder. “Please come back to me.” He whispers, eyes falling shut, hands still holding yours.

You had no idea. 

You had no idea Jimin was going through all this. All these days you only thought about you. Your pain, your feelings, your side of the story. You never thought about how he felt. How it felt to not marry the one he loved, to lose his best friend overnight, to be left all alone to manage an entire empire at such a young age and come back home to silence and emptiness. You had no idea how hard it was for him because you were so selfish. You claimed to love him but you didn’t think about him at all. What kind of love was that? Please Y/n. You can still hear the desperation in his voice. He really was lonely. All because of you.

It didn’t matter if you were hurt. It didn’t matter if it meant he was happy. That was what love was after all. This distance between you made no sense anymore.

Carefully helping him to his feet, you put his arm around your shoulder, as you walk him to your bedroom. Gently helping him lie down, you remove his shoes and pulled the covers over him, watching him curl under them as he drifted to sleep. Switching off the lights you lie down on the other side beside him, watching him, breath deeply in his slumber. 

He really was right. You were being selfish and dumb. Why did you think marrying Jimin had to change anything between you two? Why did you have to think so much at all? Look at where it left you. With even less than you had before. In the disappointment of not being able to have Jimin’s love you lost his friendship too, something that you always had with you and promised to always keep. You could still be friends, you could still be the Jimin and Y/n you were before if you stopped being stubborn, and maybe, it was time to stop.

Jimin turns to face you, reaching out for your hand, eyes still shut, as he grips it in his hand like he used to before, whenever he was worried and needed you around.

“Stop looking at me and stop thinking so much. Just sleep Y/n.”

You blink at him, shutting your eyes, listening to him wholeheartedly for once as you hold his hand, whispering. “Good night Jimin.”

As he replies you can practically hear the smile in his voice. “Good night Y/n.”

The entire of the next two weeks, winter got harsher by the minute but there was a new-found warmth between you and Jimin.

The morning after everything when you woke up Jimin was still lying down next to you, hand still in yours. As the sunlight falls on your faces, he stirs awake and you look away as though for the last ten minutes you hadn’t been looking at him. Slowly he lets your hand go as he rubs his eyes and you are instantly disappointed by the emptiness you feel. You sit up, pulling your hair into a bun, casually initiating conversation.

“You were pretty drunk last night.”

“I wasn’t.” Jimin words take you aback as you turn around to look at him. “I wasn’t even close to drunk.”

“Yeah, I mean you were tipsy, whatever.”

“No.” He sits up, adjusting himself in a way he’s sitting on his side of the bed, facing you. “I wasn’t tipsy either, I was pretty damn sober.”

“Liar.” You get out of bed, arranging the pillows. “I could tell by how you spoke that-“

“I said it sober.” His voice is serious. “I remember every word I said, and I meant every word I said.”

You stare at Jimin who also gets up, arranging the sheets. “Y/n, I mean it when I say I want things between us to go back to normal. And when I say normal I’m not talking about what you decided was ‘normal’ the past few months. I’m talking about how we were for years till now, as friends, best friends. That sort of normal. I want us to at least try if not -“

“Okay.”

 It’s Jimin’s turn to be surprised. Perhaps he thought it would take you a lot more convincing to agree. 

“You’re right, all this for so long was stupid and unnecessary, nothing has and should change between us right?”

Jimin smiles, happier than most days you had seen him, even happier than when he finished his first project. But it fades a little. “So, will ever you tell me why something did change in between?”

You smile sadly at that, shaking your head. “Something’s don’t need to be told Jimin and if you couldn’t understand without me telling you, you won’t understand even if I do tell you.”

Jimin frowns a little but quickly shakes it off, “Fine, whatever you wish. I’m just glad that things are okay between us now.” You nod as he smiles wider. “How about you go shower first, because you are a crazy person who works on Saturdays and need to leave for work, and I’ll get breakfast ready.”

He leaves the room as you agree when you call him out from behind. “Jimin!”

“Hmm?” He pokes his head in.

“Be honest, you were tipsy weren’t you?”

“Slightly.” He grins sheepishly and you laugh, walking away to shower.

That day was perhaps one of the happiest days of your life. 

You sat in the morning eating breakfast together with Jimin, talking and laughing about last night’s party and his colleagues. As you left to work he asked you to come home soon, forgetting you only worked only half a day on Saturdays. When you did come home in the afternoon though, he wasn’t there and you had no idea where he went. About an hour later he returned with bags full of groceries and things making a disappointed face and whining as he saw you, “I didn’t mean so early! This was supposed to be a surprise.”

As the both of you decided to make the dinner he originally planned to cook alone, you realised he bought everything but meat – the main ingredient - making you laugh at him and his stupidity as he threw himself into the couch annoyed at himself. By the end of the night, the groceries were all stowed away in the fridges and cupboards as the both of you settled down in front of the television with 2 boxes of Chinese take out and a long awaited show.

“I can’t believe you didn’t watch season 6 of Friends yet Y/n.”

“It’s not like you did either Jimin!”

“Yeah well, it’s our show, something we always saw together! I tried but it just wasn’t the same. I couldn’t watch it without you.”

You smiled at that. “Then how was I supposed to watch it without you, you idiot.” 

And that’s how that night, the entire season 6 of Friends played non stop on the television but the two of you didn’t watch it that night either, falling asleep, curling up in the couch, exhausted and stomachs aching with how much you laughed that night.

And things were like that for quite some time. With Jimin’s project completing he was free and looked forward to spending time with you and even though your project was reaching its high point, you didn’t do much late nights anymore. You were more than loyal to your work, submitting and completing everything on time but you were more efficient now. You didn’t look forward to staying back late at night, spending more time than needed in the labs. These days, you found yourself looking forward to going home. More than you or Jimin though, Jin was happy about this development, encouraging you and sometimes teasing you for wanting to run back home to your husband as soon as possible. It wasn’t your husband you were going back for, it was your best friend.

For over a month, things were this way. Everything was fine, Jimin and you were doing great. You were having meals together, hanging out around the city more often, trying to finish the remaining seasons of Friends, hitting pubs and clubs - in fact, you did all those things that you never had the chance to do with him before. After your mother died when your father insisted on moving to London, you were separated from Jimin at the peak time of your friendship. After that other than keeping in touch with him via mails, you only saw him during the summer vacations, for those two mere months to make up for a years worth of friendship like you had for all those years now. Your last summer vacation changed everything. It changed him from your best friend to you husband. 

You didn’t think the whole idea of being best friends like you were before was going to be easy and sure enough, it wasn’t. With the two of you being married now, there were times when it did get awkward. Like when the two of you went to church on Sunday and were blessed by an old woman there for being the most beautiful pair of husband and wives she had ever seen. Or when you were at the restaurant that one night and were voted as the lucky couple. Whenever the subject came to the marriage between you two, there was tension of course. 

Or when the topic about Karen was breached. These were the two times the awkwardness between you two was thick and obvious.  

For Jimin though, it disappeared in an instant. For him, his relationship with the woman he loved, his wife and his best friend were different. He never let them mingle, he always kept them apart. But for you, your best friend your husband and the man you loved were the same, it was nearly impossible to keep them distant, yet you tried. Because it meant he would be happy you tried. And it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would though. Maybe because every time it felt painful, you remembered his smile and healed yourself. That was love after all.

And things went on and on that way as winter got harsher and harsher. 

And then you destroyed everything again. 

Unlike how it’s silent before a storm, the last two days had been extremely happening for you.

You walk around the house making sure all the preparations were done and perfect, Jimin is doing the same. Except he’s more tensed than you. It was funny how he was calling out at you for being the tensed one, two nights ago….

“You look tensed.” Jimin notices the moment he walks into the room as you sit on the couch by the fireplace of your room, pinching the bridge of your nose in worry. You look up as he comes and sink further into the softness, shutting your eyes.

“Just tired.”

“Tough time at work?” You can hear him put his bag down and throw his coat on the bed.

“Yeah, something like that.”

You expect to next hear the bathroom door open as he leaves to freshen up, instead you feel his hands on your head, pressing softly as he stands behind you, making your eyes fly open.

“Jimin, it’s okay-“

“Shh. You’ll feel better.” He softly pushes your hair back, gently massaging. “You used to do the same after my games.”

“And you used to fall asleep.” You smile, letting your eyes shut again.

“Mhmm, and so should you. It’s quite late at night.”

“I can’t.” You whine. “I have work.” You hold his hand, making walk around the couch, bringing him in front of you. “And there’s something we need to talk about.”

Jimin looks worried as he sits across you, “What’s wrong?”

You clear your throat. “Jin requested for business purposes that I organise a Christmas party in our house and…..I said okay?”

“And?”

“And what?” You raise your eyebrows confused.

“That’s it.?” Jimin relaxes, looking relieved. “I thought you were going to…..nevermind what I thought. So, what’s wrong with that?”

“Well there’s going to be party in the house and you live here, I should have asked you first but I said yes without talking to you….”

“That’s no issue Y/n, the house is yours anyways-“

“Ours.” You correct him immediately. “The house is ours Jimin, this is your house too.”

Jimin nods, raising his hands defensively. “What I meant was this is your house too, you don’t need my permission for doing anything.”

“It’s not just that.” You hesitate for a bit. “Look, this party is being thrown to get closer to our potential sponsors on a more personal level alright. I already fucked up one meeting because……because I sort of missed meeting them when they were in town a couple of months ago to join you in your success party-“ Jimin’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. “-but now I can’t have anything go wrong again. Jin thinks that if we interact with them at home like this it would seem more friendly and open and since this is quite a domestic idea…….he wants you to be a part of the party too.”

“You want me to be a part of the party?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know I should have asked before-“

“No, I’m asking if You want me to be a part of the party?”

You look at him confused. “Yeah, I think Jin’s right, if we want to do this at a personal level and so are throwing a party in the house, you should be there too. But…….”

“But what? We need to be Mr. and Mrs. Park, not Jimin and Y/n?” Jimin steals the words right from the tip of your tongue as you looked at him slightly surprised.

“Yeah, that’s what I was going to say. Can you do it?” You carefully chose your words. “We need to make everything seem normal, there will be a lot people, we can’t let people know….whatever….whatever is between us.”

“What’s between us Y/n?” Jimin looks at you so sadly, you can’t meet his eyes for long enough. This was one of those instances when you both knew becoming friends once again, didn’t mean it was the same. Whether you talked about it or not, something was still wrong.

“You know what is between us Jimin, you don’t need me to say it.” You take a deep breath. “Can you do it, for me? Be my husband for one night?”

“I’m always your husband.” Jimin drops the words so casually and thoughtlessly, it hurts you because it’s just a word. The word husband is a title, not a relationship. “But I get what you’re trying to say. And yeah, I’ll be there at the party, as your husband, like you were with me as my wife, you didn’t need to ask me this so specifically.”

You purse your lips tight, “Thank you Jimin.” You get up stretching a little, when Jimin holds your hand.

“Where are you off to?”

“The party is on Sunday which is day after tomorrow, so I’ve got work. A couple of phone calls to make and –“

“Now?” He glances at the clock. “It’s quite late.”

You shrug, “I know, no choice.”

“So you’re going to prepare everything in two days all by yourself?”

“You underestimate me Jimin.” You raise your eyebrows at him.

He shakes his head, “You overwork yourself Y/n.”

He continues as you stay silent because he’s right. “It’s a party at our house as you said, so if its our party and we both work for it, right? How about we make a list of things that have to be done and split jobs?” At this point you’re too tired to even argue against it and Jimin sees through it. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“But Jimin I wanted to call for the cake at least today, they’ll get sold out-“

“All can be done tomorrow.” He gets up, turning you around with his hands on your shoulder, making you walk out of the room. “What’s the point of feeding all your guests if you don’t feed yourself? You didn’t have dinner did you?”

You shake your head as you approach the dining room. “I was waiting for you.”

“Let’s eat now.” And as usual the night goes on with a simple conversation and a simple dinner between two friends. 

As you adjust the decorations on the tree one last time, mentally ticking it off your to do list, Jimin walks up to you.

“Jungkook’s girlfriend has the cake ready!” He smiles in relief. “I’m gonna step out to collect it okay, I’ll be back in a bit.”

You nod as he rushes out grabbing the car keys, hurriedly putting on his shoes. You know why he’s hurrying, he thought he was at his fault. Even though he was, like always you didn’t say anything to him.

Saturday morning when you wake up, you see Jimin working on his laptop near the fire place. As you stretch he notices you are awake and leaves the room silently. You frown a little before going to the shower, confused as you washed yourself why he was a little off. You know him well enough so you can tell why - he’s tensed. And indeed he is because as you walk into the dining room after getting ready for the day, he’s pacing around the area, as your cornflakes and milk sit ready on the table Expect the milk was in the bowl and the cereal in the glass.

“What’s wrong Jimin?”

Jimin snaps out of his worries, still not noticing that you were pouring cereal into the bowl as he sits down across you.

“So I was making a list of things we need to do before the party tomorrow night-“

“That’s why you’re tensed? We could have done it together Jimin.”

“No, no I just happened to wake up early and so I worked on it, it’s pretty much sorted. So we have food and drinks. Dinner to be precise, which we need to place an order for. We need to buy wine and rum and a couple of drinks. And of course, there’s cake. Then there’s decorations, buying them and decorating the house too. And gifts for those who come. Then there’s music. We need a proper playlist and I was working on that in the morning. And…...” He trails off thinking.

“That’s about it, that’s good enough Jimin what are you so tensed about?”

He bites his lip, looking apologetic. “The cakes are all sold out.” He makes angry fists as he speaks upset at himself. “You were right we should have ordered last night, there’s no cakes anywhere, I’ve called about 7 different shops they are all sold out. I’m so sorry Y/n…”

Even though you’re slightly annoyed at him, seeing how angry he was at himself you calmed down. “Okay, nevermind, I’m sure we wouldn’t have gotten a cake last night as well, people order from weeks before, this whole event is just so last minute so don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.” You quickly stuff your mouth with the cereal, talking between your bites. “Let’s decide on the menu and then make a list of what to order now yeah? We need to step out to shop soon.”

Jimin nods and leaves to bring back his laptop and as you continue your breakfast, you discuss about the cuisine, ordering a long list of mouth watering dishes. You wanted this party to impress, there was nothing you were unwilling to do for it.

“I think we should bake the cake if we can’t find one.”

Jimin looks at you absolutely surprised when you walk into the dining room after clearing yourself up once your breakfast was done.

“You want to bake a cake? A Christmas cake?”

“It’s not that bad.” You shrug leaning over the chair, standing behind it. “It’s a little time taking but I think we can do it. What’s a Christmas party without a Christmas cake right?”

“That is true Y/n but this is won’t be easy-“

“I know but we can try right?” You look at him pleadingly as he shakes his head.

“We’d be wasting too much time, no Y/n, we’ll figure out some other way and-“

“Fine.” You straighten out. “You go ahead and shop, I’m not coming.”

“Stop being stubborn Y/n-“

“I’m not being stubborn! You said it was a waste of time so I’m splitting the work between us so we won’t spend too long on a task.”

“How am I supposed to buy decorations alone? I don’t know what to get and all the colour combination stuff and all-“

“You figure that on your own~!” You wave at him leaving to room as he lets out a groan of frustration. “Fine! I’ll do it alone then!” He gets up and shuts his laptop leaving with it under his arm, the opposite way.

A little upset, you began your work in the kitchen knowing very well it wasn’t going to be easy but Jin trusted you with this and you wanted everything about tomorrow night to be perfect. You’re about halfway done, after making an entire mess in the kitchen when you’re tip toeing miserably trying to reach for the vanilla essence on the top shelf when you feel a sudden warmth behind you as Jimin stands, pressed against your back, hand going over yours to grab the small glass bottle. You turn around to face him as he takes a step back and you frown at him.

“Didn’t you say you were going to buy decorations?”

“I called for catering and confirmed the order, and I also finished on music. It’s past lunch time and you are still such a mess.” He grabs an apron from a nearby. “And I can’t leave you in a mess alone can I?”

He smiles, making you smile back as you continued with your work, glad to have Jimin by you. Soon that is turned into annoyance because if the kitchen was a mess before Jimin came, with him around, it was catastrophic. There was flour everywhere, eggs lying broken here and there, dozens of spoons and spatulas out, the milk was running its own river – it was disastrous. By the end of it all when you took the cake out of the oven, it looked more like a burnt log than a log cake. Jimin laughed till his stomach hurt at you disappointed face the moment he saw it.

Realising you were genuinely upset about how this back fired on you, Jimin immediately takes the cake from your hand putting it on the counter and bending down slightly to look you in the eyes you had lowered.

“Hey Y/n, it’s okay, it just looks a little burnt I’m sure it’ll taste fine.”

“That makes no sense.” You strip out of your apron throwing it across the kitchen. “You were right, we should have thought of some other way to deal with this whole cake thing, this was such a waste of time.” You look out at the darkening sky.

“Of course not, If not for all this, I’d never had known how you look covered in flour.” He snickers as you frown, moving closer to the window, seeing the reflection of you with your cheeks and forehead, all smeared with flour. You groan turning towards Jimin and see his phone out, clicking away pictures, laughing uncontrollably.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me-“

“This stuff is gold.” He takes a step back as you walked ahead, putting your hand out to clock your face.

“Jimin stop taking pictures-“

“You look like a masterpiece, we should hang you on the Christmas tree-“

“Stop it Jimin!”

He runs out, making you sigh and follow behind him, grabbing the bowl of icing on the counter, walking out of the kitchen mess, making a bigger one outside, as the cake sat on the counter, all forgotten.

You walk into the dining room smiling to yourself remembering the mini food fight you had here that night as you look at all the food laid out, ensuring there were enough plates and cutlery to go around for everyone. There’s just one empty plate in the centre for the cake Jimin was bringing. After you spent nearly two hours clearing the mess last night, Jimin remembered that Jungkook’s girlfriend had a knack for baking and immediately called him to ask for a favour. Once Jimin bought the cake and you placed it here, then this place was perfect.

Turning to enter the kitchen, you open the fridge to pour yourself some cold water when you see the cake you baked sitting there half eaten. You roll your eyes thinking about how Jimin winced at your cake yet finished nearly half of it for dinner last night. Gulping water straight from the bottle you go into your room, and pull out a dress from your closet, before getting in the tub for a warm bath. It was so cold these days. Even last night when you were returning from an hour’s worth of arguing and discussion in the mall and finally buying decorations, it was freezing cold.

The car comes to a sudden halt on the silent empty street and Jimin looks at you confused. He tries to start it again, turning the key once, twice, but all you hear is a small rumble and then it gets silent again. Jimin steps out of the driver’s seat opening the car hood and you hear him cough as you see a small trail of smoke leaving from the side. You quickly get out too and stand by him as he stares at all the wires and metal confused as to what to do.

“There’s no one around to even ask for help.” You muse looking through the semi darkness.

“We should maybe call a mechanic then, I have no idea what to do.” Jimin pushes a wire or two looking at the parts keenly as you dial for help.

The two of you are still standing there, trying to see what you can do with your minimal knowledge when suddenly you feel a cold soft something land on your cheek. You look up to see the sky scattering snow, white, beautiful snow, after days after a dry spell in London. Jimin looks up, following you and he breaks into a sweet smile.

“Finally.” He turns to you shutting the hood. “Took it long enough.”

“Good things take time.”

You hold out your hand, watching as the flakes settled on your outstretched palm as you leaned back against the hood, sliding up to sit on it, Jimin standing next to you. The two of you looked around as the snow slowly started covering the trees and the side walk, all just illuminated by a few streetlamps and shop signs in the deserted road. As the snow forms a white layer next to you on the surface of your black car, you scoop up a little of it, throwing it sideways to hit Jimin’s arm. He lets out a soft laugh but immediately gets serious as you wince at how the snow stings your bare skin almost too painfully. He turns, moving to stand right before you taking your hands in his, cupping them and bringing them to his mouth, softly blowing warm air.  He’s so close. So incredibly close after so many days and suddenly, your heart is beating fast. Way too fast. And it gets faster when in that small space he looks up and meets your eye, staring right into it in the midst of the snowfall. You see his eyes flicker to your lips then back and he shifts a little. Did he get closer? You don’t know.

And you never get to because the street so far only occupied with the two of you has another visitor as the mechanics car turns in, the headlights flashing towards, making you both instantly jump apart. With his hands on your waist Jimin instantly helps you get down the hood as the mechanic approaches you and the two of you stand as apart as possible while he opens the hood and flashes his torch into it, both of you meticulously avoiding each other’s eyes.

“I need to take this back to the garage, I can only have it ready by the morning.” The man dressed in overalls shuts the hood turning to Jimin. “We can leave this here, and I’ll drop you by my car till your house. I’ll have the car delivered by the morning.”

Jimin shakes his head, the small bits of snow in his hair, falling. “We live just two streets down, we’ll walk, that’s alright.”

The mechanic nods as Jimin walks to the boot, taking out today’s heavy shopping purchase and you help him. After giving Jimin gives his number, the two of you walk home in that snowfall, next to each other but not close enough, looking at one another from time to time but not saying anything. The cold snow had brought something else with it tonight.

You slip on your dress you chose, looking at the way it fit you. As you run your hands over the material, smoothing it out you think about how the pink matched the color of his lips when the two of you were so close last night. You immediately shake the thought off your head. He was your best friend that’s all. He didn’t love you, you weren’t supposed to think like this. But the last few days you kept questioning yourself seeing his behavior. You know Jimin and his interests very well. He loves attention. He loves being in gatherings and parties and clubs. He loves going out, eating in fancy restaurants and having fun. You are almost opposite to him. 

You liked having night’s in, home cooked meals or takeawys, watching movies wrapped in a blanket and surrounded by pillows, that’s how you like to spend time. When you were young, the both of you used to argue a lot about it, often coming to truces and spending time in ways both of you liked it. After moving to London though, you could choose to do as you wished. You spent hours in cafes and libraries all alone and silent but somewhere you missed that exciting life you had with Jimin. That’s why after you both had resolved your issues and were spending time together, you didn’t mind doing it Jimin’s way.

The last few days were weird though. It wasn’t exactly weird to say but Jimin was different. He was looking to spend time in as well, he insisted sometimes on not wanting to go out and you thought maybe it was because of the cold or because he wanted to do things your way for a while but as time went by you were slowly seeing it for what it was. He was looking to spend time some personal time, alone with you. When you first thought that you felt you were over thinking it. Jimin didn’t feel anything beyond friendship for you to think like that. But sometimes when saw the way he looked at you, the way he got closer or touched you, as a woman you could tell. You could tell something had changed.

As you wash up after dinner, you hear some song from the living room where you know Jimin sat with his laptop. When you walk in wiping your hands and frowning at the music, Jimin looks up at you.

“What do you think?”

“What is this?”

“The playlist for tonight. This is one of the songs.”

You laugh, “What kind of song is this Jimin, we aren’t in the 1980s for gods sake.”

“What do you mean 80s music.” Jimin almost looks offended. “This is a classic, this song is a legend Y/n.”

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “There’s no point of a legend if one can’t dance to it Jimin we-“

“Who said?” Jimin held out his hand for you. “Let me show you.”

“Not now Jimin,” You wave him off as you walk back towards the kitchen. “We’ve still got the house to decorate and -“

He holds your hand from behind, making your turn to face him exasperatedly. You don’t expect him to suddenly pull you towards him though, one arm around your waist and another, holding the wrist of your hand which is resting on his chest. You blink at him, trying a little to break free, but he’s held you so delicately yet firmly not just with his hands but his gaze too.

As the music swells, slowly he takes a step forward and back, guiding you along the expanse of your living room to the gentle music. You look into his eyes and him into yours as you both sway to the melody getting slower and slower, halting without even realising that all you were doing was looking at each other. And earlier today by the car, there was a reason for you to move apart but now, now there’s nothing. Nothing or no one to interrupt, or put distance between you two. But then the phone rings and both you jump apart.

You shake your head, bringing yourself out of last night’s memories. That was nothing, that really was nothing. Jimin couldn’t possibly be falling….

You suddenly feel his presence behind you, his hand to be particular as his pulls up the zip at the back for you, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“This dress is really nice.”

You turn around, hoping he’d take a step back but he doesn’t, trapping you in the small space between the dressing table and his body.

“Uh…thanks Jimin.” You blink.

“I’ve put the cake on the table, it looks great, you should take a look. And I also took a final round in on all the decorations, and everything is good. No one will believe it took less than three hours today morning to make the house look like this.......Also the waiters we hired are here. I’ve put a couple of them on drinks duty and the rest will be there to change the course during dinner.”

You slowly take a step to the side, moving away from him, clearing your throat. “Uh yeah, yeah, that sounds fine.”

Jimin looks at you keenly. “Is everything okay?”

You open your mouth to say something and then immediately shut it changing your mind and turning around. No, no, not now. You had a party to throw and a deal to crack. All this can be done later.

“If there’s something, say it Y/n.”

“Can we talk Jimin?” You turn to him. If not now then you’d never do it. You know what an idiot you are.

“We are talking?” He blinks confused.

“I wanted to ask if you….. it’s just that I felt….maybe, you know, I don’t know it’s probably not true but….”

Probably? Of course. Of course it wasn’t true. Why would you ever think Jimin was falling in love with you? He was already in love with someone else and this wasn’t the first time Jimin was close enough to you to make your heart skip a beat. Jimin was a touchy, romantic person by nature, all this didn’t mean anything at all.

“What did you feel?” Jimin waves his hand before you zoned out face.

“Uh….nothing. It’s nothing, never mind.” You turn to walk back into your wardrobe to get away from him, when Jimin calls out to you.

“Y/n, you know you can tell me whatever it is right?”

“Yeah.” You nod, not looking at him. “I know.”

As you finish getting ready, tucking the last strands of hair behind, you can hear the sounds of cars pulling up in front of your house. Quickly taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, happy with what you’ve done, you rush out of the room to see Jimin already holding the door open as your colleagues walked in, couples and families, looking pleasantly surprised at Jimin, having seeing him for the first time.

“Y/n!” Ashley waves at you when she spots you standing by the couches, immediately approaching you and it’s only then though that Jimin spots you as well, his eyes slightly widening and lips parting as his eyes fell on you, from your feet, trailing up your body to your eyes.

You don’t why but when you walked into the wardrobe again the first thing that your eyes fell on was the deep red dress that Jimin had bought for you months ago for the party. It had come back altered, two days after everything and since then it had been hanging on your side of the wardrobe, untouched. For some reason you took it out, staring at it and you didn’t even know why but you slipped out of your gown, changing into it. When you looked at yourself in the mirror indeed Jimin was right, the colour really did suit you a lot.

Seeing you in the dress he gifted, you notice how Jimin refuses to take his eyes off you as you walk towards him, to welcome everyone home. When you reach him, he snaps out of it, putting his arm around your waist, smiling along with you at everyone as you introduced him.

As the night got longer, your friends and colleagues start filling your house, the environment get livelier by the minute. You speak to dozens of people walking around, and everyone showers compliments on your home and the arrangements and how wonderful your husband is, especially when out of the blue, he started playing the piano that sat untouched for months, at the corner of your living room. You thought Jimin only knew how to play a song or two that was taught in school and he never showed any particular interest for the instrument as well. But today the way he played had the entire party’s attention on him, everyone with drinks in their hands but not one person took a sip, all too lost in the way his fingers moved over the keys. 

You didn’t even get a chance to talk to him after that as Jin steals you to the side to talk to your sponsors with whom you discussed for long and in detail what you planned to do with this experiment. By the end of it, you’ve impressed them and as they proceed for dinner, Jin wraps you in a brief hug, congratulating you for your success and you’re so happy, you look around for Jimin to tell him but he’s already looking at you, mouth pressed in a thin hard line, eyes flickering from you to Jin. As you walk towards him, he turns around raising the glass and grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Dinnertime everyone! Please, join us in the dining room.”

You frown at him as the crowd moves towards the dining room, walking between the two of you and Jimin follows them in, and you don’t know whether he has even noticed or not that you want to talk to him.

Dinner is just as uneventful. Even though you’re sitting right next to Jimin, he’s talking to others sitting around him and you found yourself still making conversation with Jin and your sponsors. As desert gets passed around and everyone slowly eats, Jin stands up, clearing his throat for attention. He announces happily about the new project the lab has now received, being its biggest and most important one yet. As he owes the credit to you, everyone cheers as you beam around the table and you feel Jimin lean in to whisper softly in your ear. “Congratulations, love.”

You look at him with slightly widen eyes and he looks away still clapping normally, looking around. You probably misheard him in all this noise. There was no way he said that.

You become pretty silent after that, not talking much to anyone, lost in your own thoughts. What snaps you back to reality is Ashley’s question.

“So Mr. Park.”

“Please, call me Jimin.”

“Alright, Jimin, Y/n has barely told us anything about you.” She looks around the table for agreements. “I mean of course she’s answered our questions before so we know where you work and what you do and all that, but she’s never talked about the two of you before. Tell us something about yourself.”

“Well there isn’t much to say.” Jimin laughs, holding your hand. “We know each other better than anyone, being the childhood friends, we are and last spring we made it a marriage.”

“And love?”

Both you and Jimin look at each other as Ashley continues. “I mean it’s obvious you guys are deep in love, when did that happen?”

You panic but you feel the light pressure Jimin gives as he squeezes your hand in his grip. “Well, I don’t know about her but it was pretty recent for me......They say you know the value of something in your life only when it leaves right?, maybe that’s why I never knew how I felt for her. I remember it was one night, after our families had dinner together and she was walking back home alone as I followed her and as I saw her walk away I somehow just realised that I can bear anything, anything but the distance between us and I guess that was when I knew.”

You stared at Jimin gulping a little. This didn’t really happen did it?, he couldn’t be serious.

“And Y/n, you?”

“Huh?” You turn a little surprised. “Um…..I…..it wasn’t exactly a particular moment for me I guess.” You look at Jimin, straight in the eye. “I think I’ve been in love for as long as I remember.”

Everyone lets out a string of aw’s looking at you two. You can’t take it anymore.

“Well now that dinner is over,” You look around. “How about we all head out for a bit and just enjoy ourselves?”

Everyone mummers in agreement, getting up, wiping themselves with napkin and you leave Jimin’s hand and get up too, talking to the waiters about clearing the place. As music begins playing outside, Jin grabs you halfway as you are giving instructions, insisting that you dance and that it was your night to celebrate. You look at all the couples dancing together slowly and as Jin holds his hand out to you, asking for a dance, Jimin comes from behind, hand around you, pulling you closer.

“Sorry Jin, I’d like this dance with my wife if you don’t mind?” And you just hope Jin didn’t notice the slight harshness in his voice as Jimin leads you away.

Putting your arms around him, you look at him pointedly. “What was that Jimin? Why did you have to be so curt-“

“This colour really does suit you.” His voice is low. “You look beautiful Y/n.”

You blink multiple times at how easily he’s changing the topic. “Thanks, I thought the colour would match the theme of Christmas and all but you’re not getting away with this Jimin, what was all that about?”

“All what?”

“How you spoke to Jin and that story during dinner?”

Jimin lets out a sigh, “You asked me to be your husband tonight didn’t you? I’m doing just that. A husband doesn’t just let his wife dance with anyone and everyone like that.  Besides I hadn’t talked to you the whole evening-“

“I did try! You walked away.”

Jimin shakes his head, brushing it off. “I’m sorry about that, I don’t know why……but anyways congratulations Y/n on your project. I’m so glad this worked out for you.”

Congratulations love.

That’s the only thing ringing in your head, you can’t hear anything he says after that. Should you talk to him about it? Here and now?

But you’re so lost in the moment, you don’t. You don’t talk to him while dancing, not after everyone hugs you both goodbye and leaves, not after the house eventually becomes utterly silent, never. But somehow before you even could ask, he answers your questions with a reply you didn’t expect at all.

You’re clearing the last bits of things remaining in the dining room, after the waiters leave doing their job. As you pull your hair out of the painful bun letting you waves drop over your shoulder. Jimin enters, his blazer removed, rolling up his sleeves. Like always, you look away.

“Just need to keep all these scented candles back in.” You tell him as you blow the fire away, the room getting darker bit by bit. Jimin proceeds to help you, both of you quietly doing your work until your shoulders knock right next to each other as the both of you reach for the last candle at the same time.

And you can feel it again, that undissolved tension between both of you. Jimin is so close to you again, so close you can count his eyelashes, see the specks of lighter brown in his eyes so clearly, feel every breath he is not taking. He’s so close that he can surely feel the way your heart beats like a thousand horses running together and your cheeks giving of heat like a setting summer sun. You don’t think it was possible for the two of you to get any closer. But somehow you do.

Somehow suddenly Jimin swoops down, hands on either side of you, trapping you between them as he gripped the edge of the table and softly presses his lips against yours. It’s so soft, so so soft that it makes your mind reel in an unknown frenzy. It is slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His brings his hand to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as both your breaths mingle. You run your fingers down his spine, as he moves closer until there is no space left between you and you can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. You can feel wild tremors along your nerves, inflicting sensations you had never known you were capable of feeling. You don’t know how but the kiss got deeper, deeper than all the galaxies in the universe, as you move against him.

You can taste the faint traces of wine as the kiss obliterates every thought. Drunk on endorphins your only desire is to have him touch you, to move his hands over places that ached to feel him. He gives you exactly that as his hand wanders down your back, holding him closer to your body. You always wondered what stories meant by melting in a kiss.

It is only now in his arms that you understand. It is only when Jimin pulls back and you pine for his touch that you understand, knee buckling a little, unsteady as you are on your feet, and his hands immediately grab you by the waist, holding you up. There is barely a few seconds gap, a few seconds where you stare at each other, face red and flushed before he kisses you once more with the kind of passion that literally takes your breath away you find yourself pushing him back to breathe again as you both stand foreheads touching till his eyes fly open.

“Oh god....” Jimin looks at you horrified as though he just came to his senses, immediately taking a step back. “I’m sorry....I’m so so sorry this....this wasn’t....I....I’m sorry Y/n.”

You frown at him not understanding as he takes a couple more steps back.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers and leaves in a blink of an eye as you stand in the semi darkness all alone with no idea what in the world was going on.

“Earth to Y/n.”

You snap out of your thoughts in an instant and look up to see Jin staring at you with an eyebrow up. You look around to see everyone else also giving you a curious, confused look.

“Wow that took a while. Are you with us Y/n?”

“Yeah...yeah I just...was lost for a minute sorry.”

“Well it would be a little helpful if you could you know maybe try to be with us so we can get done with this quickly.”

“yeah sure I’m sorry. I’m- I’m listening.”

But you’re not. Barely seconds after saying that you’re scribbling lines on the paper again thinking about last night and Jimin’s changed behaviour for many days now. It couldn’t be possible, it couldn’t be what you were thinking. Jimin cannot be in love with you. Even though that was what you wanted all your life, Jimin cannot be in love with you. That would ruin everything. That would destroy your soul from the inside.

Last night you had finally admitted. You finally admitted to yourself that Jimin not loving you had never been the problem in your life at all. Jimin not loving you was a solution. It was the solution that kept you away from him. It was the solution that helped you with your guilt for something you had never admitted to even yourself till date. Last night, you did. You finally confessed to yourself why the distance between you and Jimin was there. It wasn’t because he didn’t love. 

You couldn’t have him love you. 

And he needed to know that.

“I’m sorry I need to leave.” You get up, as everyone stares at you.

“Y/n this is important-“

“I’m sorry Jin, there’s nothing more important that what I have to do now to me.” You grab your bag and lab coat and walk straight out of the room, not waiting for anyone’s permission.

When you open the front door of your house as quickly as possible to talk to Jimin, you are met with a surprise.

“Y/n!” The woman in front of you squeals, getting up from the couch and nearing you with her arms wide open, as Jimin sits near her.

“M-Mrs.Park?” As Jimin’s mother wraps you in a tight hug you look at him over her shoulder and he shrugs. It was a surprise for him too.

“How does it feel being a Mrs. Park yourself?” She raises her eyebrows playfully as she pulls back and you smile awkwardly as you both walk into the house.

“It’s…it’s okay I guess?”

“Doesn’t feel any different?”

“I still have to tolerate him.” You roll your eyes at Jimin who pouts angrily making his mother laugh.

“You two are still the same I see, still fooling around. Grow up already. It’s not time for you to be kids, it’s time to have your own.”

Both you and Jimin choke on the nothing at the same time, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the older woman’s eyes. She makes you sit next to Jimin, holding both your hands.

“Everything is okay between you husband and wife isn’t it?” Jimin and you look at each other and Jimin puts his arm around you as you force a smile.

“Yeah mom, e…everything is good, we’re both good.”

She smiles at his words and looks straight at you, “You remember what we asked of you when you were married? This empire needs an heir after Jimin and only you can give us that.” She drops a kiss on your head. “Don’t keep us waiting for the news any longer Y/n.”

You blinked at her as Jimin speaks for you. “Yeah mom, we understand.”

“I’l.......l just take with me to the kitchen to get these special diabetic biscuits I bought for you Mrs. Park,” You get up, holding Jimin by the hand. “I need his help taking it from the top shelf, We’ll be back!”

You drag Jimin to the kitchen, making sure his mother can’t hear anything and speak in a hushed voice.

“What’s going on?”

“Dad had some work in Paris and she just took the train from Paris to London for the fun of it and thought to pay us a visit cause the last time she called I wasn’t doing well.” Jimin runs his hands through his hair. “She’ll be leaving in a bit, to catch the train back so-“

“Then we better hurry and tell her.”

“Tell her what?” Jimin looks at you confused.

“Jimin, do you realise what she’s asking for? She thinks things between us are good enough to give her an heir. That’s not happening, no way is that happening and we can’t have her living in the hope that-“

“It’s break her heart to know the truth about our relationship Y/n, she thinks as parents they did take a good decision for our lives by getting us married. Knowing that it’s turned around everything for the worse for us will break her heart.”

“Then what do we do let her live in the delusion? I can’t Jimin, I’m telling her right now-“

“Don’t Y/n” Jimin holds your hand as you try to leave. “She’ll get to know eventually, slowly, don’t tell her this now and-“

“Whenever we tell her, it will break her heart Jimin, then why not earlier?” you raise your hands, not wanting to listen anymore. “Look, I’ve been doing this mistake for days – not talking on time. There’s no point dragging things for longer and longer, it’ll only get more complicated and difficult to break out from. We are telling her today and that’s final. Will you do it or do you want me to?”

Jimin silently looks at you eyes still pleading you to not do this.

“Will you do it or do you want me to, Jimin?”

Jimin gives up eventually shutting his eyes briefly and letting out a breath. “I’ll do it.”

“Good.” You grab the biscuits from the kitchen counter and walk out.

As Mrs. Park talks munching on the biscuits, you keep glancing at Jimin to raise the topic and he nods like he’ll do it soon but over an hour passes by and he doesn’t bring it up. Not even when his mother gets up stating that she wants to take her leave. You can’t rely on him anymore, you had to take matter into your own hands.

“Mrs. Park there’s something you need to know.” You get up as she does and from the corner of your eye you can see the tension in Jimin as he stands up as well.

“What is it dear?”

“I’m sorry but I didn’t want to hide this from you. You need to know about us and……..”

Jimin puts his arm around your waist pulling you closer and words are unable to leave your mouth.

“What about you two?”

“We…we aren’t ready to be parents.” Jimin speaks beside you as you frown. What is he saying? “One day maybe, but both of us are busy now with our careers and we want to focus on it for a while, a child will be a distraction now. Y/n was just.......worried about how to tell you this.”

“Aw is that is sweetheart?” His mother smiles at you, walking to the door as the two of you follow her. “That’s alright, I understand you both are young and newly married, you’d want to work, have fun, spend time and all of that. I just wanted you to know his dad and I are waiting but if both want it later, then we have no qualms waiting longer. That’s not an issue, you needn’t be afraid to say that my child.”

“It’s not that.” You look at Jimin, getting madder at him by the minute for saying everything but what he had to, controlling the emotion in your voice. “There’s more-“

Jimin doesn’t let you finish, pulling you closer, kissing your lips, shutting you up. “She said, it’s okay love, there’s nothing to be afraid.”

Being the old fashioned woman Jimin’s mother is, she laughs into her hand at the sight of her son so blatantly displaying affection in front of his mother and turns around.

“Alright, I’m going to leave you lovebirds alone for a while, I’ve got a train to catch anyways.”

As you stand at loss for words, Jimin’s mother leaves, getting into the car that came to pick her up, waving sweetly at you. The moment she is out of sight, Jimin shuts the door and you push him away from you harder than you expected to.

 “What the hell were you thinking?” You hissed between your teeth. “I asked you to tell her! Why are you giving her hope Jimin, she needs to know. She needs to know you and I have nothing between us! How could you Jimin?”

“I couldn’t do it Y/n! Imagine the poor woman travelling all alone with the thought that her son was bound in a relationship that could barely be called a marriage all because of her?”

“It would hurt her more to know later Jimin! If we keep waiting like this, it’ll be too late to tell her-“

“It’s too late already. We should have told them before we got married, before we agreed to be husband and wife-“

“Agreed?” The word snaps something inside you. You can’t do this anymore. “Who agreed to marry you Jimin, who agreed to be your wife? I don’t think you remember Jimin,” You take a step closer to him. “This relationship was not forged on my consent.”

Jimin visibly takes a shocked step back.

“Tell me Jimin. You were asked if you were okay with marrying me. Your parents were asked if they would accept me regardless. My father was asked if he was okay with this relationship. Do you ever remember me being asked?”

Jimin seems to rake his memories, going back to the day of the wedding.

“No one asked me Jimin. No one thought it was necessary. No one knew if this is what I wanted. I was decked in a bridal gown, told what vows to say and who to say it to and that’s it! No one asked me if I wanted it to be you. And let me make this very clear to you Jimin.”

You walk up to him and jab a finger at his chest. It is not moving like it’s supposed to. He isn’t breathing. You should have at least stopped then.

But you don’t.

“I never wanted it to be you. And I still don’t. So stop doing all this.”

“You….you didn’t want this….” Jimin stares at the floor repeating your words.

“No.” You turn to him. “And I even came here today, leaving everything behind just to tell you that. I didn’t want to marry you, even now this relationship suffocates me, having you around suffocates me, you remind me of things I try so hard to forget. There was a reason I stayed away from you Jimin, there was a reason for the distance but that’s something you’ll never understand. I thought it was a selfish decision though, not thinking about what you wanted from this relationship. But I was right in what I did. I was always right. There was never a point in thinking about what you wanted from this relationship when the relationship itself didn’t make any sense at all. But I can’t break away from it because I know what us being married means to my father so I stayed away from you. You wanted to be friends, you wanted to hang out, you thought it was okay to do or say whatever you want, but it’s not Jimin. Let me make it clear to you one last time. There is and will never be anything but distance between us. Whether you like it or want it or not.”

With that you turn around and walk straight out of the house slamming the door shut hard enough to make it’s hinges rattle. It’s cold, so cold that you can feel the hot tears pouring from your eyes turning to freezing streams. You walked for as long as you could that evening, further and further away from Jimin. 

You did it. After months and months of thinking of telling him to stay away, months of battling with yourself about whether this friendship was right or not, you did it. You pushed him away from you, the man you loved but were never meant to marry, the man who was the source of your guilt. And as much as it hurt doing that, breaking his heart this way, it was important to do. Otherwise the two of you would constantly be stuck in a loop of loving and not being able to love each other and hurting yourself even more. This distance was the best for you both.

That night when you come back home, Jimin is not there. He is not back home even after you have dinner, even after working on your laptop till nearly 2 in the morning, even after you wake up alone in your bedroom after many days now. The bathroom floor is wet though, which means he had come home, but he left again before he had to face you. Strangely there is also a slightly muddy footprint next to the bed table on your side of the bed as though he stood there for a while, the imprint becoming thicker and darker with time. You don’t know how long he was standing there. Or why.

Even after you return from work early, Jimin is not back. Just as you set your takeout dinner on the kitchen bar table you hear the front door being unlocked and see Jimin only just entering the house. When he looks at you though, his expression becomes hard, unreadable.

“I didn’t think you’d be home this early. Sorry.”

Before so much as a sound left you, Jimin turns around and shut the door behind him, leaving the house and you are forced once more to face the silence that you caused, the silence which is and which always has been your fault.

Nearly two weeks pass like that. Jimin hardly being at home. Jimin avoiding you when he sees you. It’s worse because he doesn’t subtly do it. He abruptly gets up and walks away whenever he sees you, he never stays in the same room as you. The other day you even heard him angrily demanding on the phone as to why it’s taking so long to get someone to fix the ceiling. You’ve never seen him that mad. He isn’t not just avoiding you, he’s cutting you off completely, turning you into an absolute stranger. That’s what you wanted right? And that’s exactly what was happening.

By the third week, Jimin got the roof of his room fixed and moved away from your space permanently. He didn’t even tell you about it. When you came home you saw his colognes were no longer lined next to your perfumes, his clothes were not in your cupboard, none of his things were around. You thought he left. Left you.

And just like that, Jimin who was already far off, went further away.

[shellyscribbles]

I am a Writer

               As long as I can remember, I have been making up stories and playing with words.  I grew up on a ranch and most of my time I entertained myself.  Not that I didn’t have other people to play with, I have a sister and neighbors, but I just enjoyed my own company a little more.  I recall spending hours playing with farm animals in the dirt. I would create elaborate worlds for my animals and spin out stories that lasted for days and often involved walking the animals in a line across the yard. It was a while before I put any ideas to paper, and to begin with, it was just poetry.

               I have a book that holds some of the first poems I ever wrote.  It’s kind of a fuzzy brown book with a faded image of a horse on the front (I loved the story of black beauty as a child).  I wrote out a table of contents and began to fill it with poems which I illustrated myself.  Its interesting looking back on them now to see a reflection of the different things I was learning and experiencing at the time.  I wrote many about pinto bean plants, as one of my favorite past times was to take the beans out of my mother’s kitchen drawer and plant them in the back yard. I often centered my plastic animal stories around these plants as well. There is one poem that I titled “Food Chains” which I penned after a particularly enthralling science lesson.  

               As I grew older, the nature of my poems took on a more angsty tone.  My work moved from my fuzzy book to a word document on the family computer.  I also started several stories on there as well. Most of that writing has been lost due to a virus that necessitated the wiping of the hard drive combined with the fact that I did not save them in my designated folder.  I would write poetry, playing with the rhythm and meaning of phrases to express feelings that I did not believe I could properly express otherwise. I have always found I am much more articulate on paper than I am in person.

               I gradually grew more interested in the sound of my writing and began to set my poetry to simple melodies.  I was also playing the clarinet and developing a growing interest and talent for music.  As I found it impossible to sing while playing the clarinet, I began to learn guitar.  While I did still peck at some of the stories I began in my youth, one in particular, I focused much more on writing lyrics and setting them to music.  I formed a few bands that played during lunch at my high school and I joined the worship team at my church, eventually becoming the leader of the youth worship band.  

               I went through a phase early in my faith where I decided to cut out everything that was not ‘Christian’ as I understood it. I deleted all of my music by secular artists, I stopped watching TV, I limited my reading to Christian books and the bible.  I also limited myself in that I would not explore ideas that I did not feel would glorify God.  As a result, I slowly moved away from writing stories at all.  All though there was one story that I did make great efforts to reform as a parable.  Over all, I kept my writing to lyrics for Christian songs and think pieces on culture and faith.

               Eventually I realized that you quickly loose touch with the world if you reject all things you do not feel expressly glorify God.  I remember listening to the band Brand New and realizing that I could see God’s character and movement in those lyrics as well. I could see it in the books I read, I could see it in the stories played out in TV shows.  It was up to me to see them and know what was true and right.  

               Unfortunately, I still didn’t work on my stories.  I had drastically dropped off on the amount of reading I used to do.  I did still write some think pieces but mostly I stayed in the musical side of things. As far as my writing goes, it stayed that way for years until I met a particular boy.  While we never dated, this relationship had a strange impact on me. I have never quite worked out why, but there was something about playing music, my music, with him that, once the connection was severed, turned me off of even my lyrical and song writing.  I no longer sought to express myself at all, be it through lyrics, think pieces or anything else.  Certainly, not stories.

               At the same time, I began to care for my grandmother whom we discovered suffered from Alzheimer’s disease.  The stress of this shut me down in new ways.  While I loved my grandmother and would not have traded the opportunity to help her, I struggled under the weight of suddenly running a household by myself and caring for another person.  Before I moved in with my grandmother, I was still living with my parents working a part-time, dead end job and going to school.

               I experienced depression for the first time during this period.  It was brief and it was comparatively shallow and I feel immensely for people who struggle against that monster on a life long basis.  I could not imagine having more than a few months bout with it.  I found myself unable to write anything in this time besides journaling my emotions out.  I have a basically daily record of my struggle through that.

               Then I got married.  I am the happiest wife.  I had the double uplift of being relieved of my role as caretaker for my grandmother and the joy of joining my life to the man whom my soul loves.  At this point, in total bliss I thought back to my writing and decided that I stopped writing because I became happy.  I was too happy to write, I needed sorrow to write.  It had been too long since my heart had been broken.  As time went on, my sister and brother-in-law got married and my other sister-in-law, my previous best friend for years, hit rock bottom with drug addiction.

               Something my brother-in-law’s wife (fiancé at the time) said stuck with me.  She recommended that my sister-in-law do something to engage her mind, to take a class or read a book.  For some reason that resonated with me and as I struggled through with the rest of the family trying to get her help, I made a reading list.  I listed out fifteen books to read in 2018.  I finished my list in June.  By the end of the year, I read twenty-six books.  

               And that brings me to this.  As I read, I found that all the stories I had written when I was young sprang back to me.  The characters I had created began to take on new life in my mind.  I even got a new breath of interest in lyrics, though my stories have taken precedent over that despite my continued role as a worship leader.  I’ll have to keep singing the lyrics of those wiser than I.  

               Finally, I picked up two books that really got me back to where I started as a little girl making up stories about pinto beans.   The first was The Great Good Thing by Andrew Klavan, his podcast was a big help as well.  I had already picked up one of my earliest stories again and was refreshed when ever he answered a question about writing. I resonated to a lot of his early experiences and began to understand that my passion has always been for words. I attempted his suggestion of writing for four hours a day, but reduced it to one hour which I was never able to actually sit down and do.  But I continued to pick at my story and do planning on a few other’s.

               Driven to continue writing I picked up On Writing by Stephen King which my sister had bought for me years earlier, she probably could see in me what I had largely missed.  I again found attributes of myself in some of his experiences with writing, particularly the bit about discovering the story as you go.  I have always written that way.  I lacked the tools, however, to get myself out of the corners I would end up writing myself into.  His suggestions about developing the tools for writing and the dedication inspired me to begin writing two thousand words a day.  

               That was about three weeks ago.  I now have nearly two hundred pages completed of the book I am writing and a renewed passion for words.  I still have a lot on my plate as a wife and my basically full-time day job, but I find nothing gives me more pleasure than the time I spend spinning stories out on my laptop.  No harm in taking a go at this writing thing and see where it may take me.  Perhaps I will succeed in getting something published.

               Until then, maybe someone is interested in the words I string together.  I’d like to find out.  Welcome to my blog.

[lucalicatteart]

Groups: the Avvi’da Vina

here’s jost a rambly little post with some random information about a vampiric organization of scholars that seeks to gain recognition in broader elven society due to their history, a bit about one of the main speakers of that group, and some elaboration on their ideas and the complications of their politics and etc.  

~ General ~

The Avvi’da Vina (which literally translates to ‘children of ancient elves’ in avirrekava) are a small group of vampires/avirre’thel who wholly embrace the fact that they’re the most direct currently living ancestors of ancient elves (unlike most avirre’thel, who usually have a complicated, slightly negative view of their elven heritage, given that shortly after their deal with the demon they were exiled from the other elves and harassed by them for thousands of years so like.. of course they don’t tend to be.. very fond lol).  Members of the Avvi’da Vina firmly believe that the avirre’thel should still have a place within elven society, sometimes even moreso than any modern day elves. Their main reasoning for this is... (continued under the read more)

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1.  Despite species changes and cultural isolation, they really could just be considered.. a group of elves with a few species altering enchantments tacked onto them. At the end of the day, even with their modified anatomy and physical traits, they do still have elven blood and ancestry.

2. They are immortal, and thus many living vampires have more extensive knowledge/memory about the customs, culture, and lives of the ancient elven people than any modern elven society does (a few of the oldest living vampires even remember being in Fanyin before it was Fanyin, like 20,000 years ago when the first avirre’thel hadn’t even been kicked out of the area yet lol),  

3. Many ancient elven customs that have been lost to modern elves (especially those in the elven alliance that conform to the rules set by the organization) are still present in avirre’thel society today. Remnants of ancient elven culture are stronger in their society than in any other group, despite them widely not even being considered related to elves (though this is mostly due to misinformation)

and 4. Modern avirre’thel even look more similar to ancient elves and overall seem to have retained some of their most prominent features, which most modern elves have lost. Due to many factors (low fertility rates, immortality skewing the perception of time, etc.), the Avvire’thel mate and evolve much slower as a species (elves are born and then die off in a fairly stable and quick life cycle, usually only living a few hundred years, and traits can be passed on to new generations and promote an ever-changing and evolving species. The process of this for vampires is much much slower, though there are obviously new avirre’thel born every once in a while and they have been able to change some (though most of their species alterations have been deliberate through use of external magic, rather than natural change over time lol), relatively speaking they still have some pretty ancient blood, as they’re a rather stagnant population, and evolve on a much more drawn out time scale, if at all.) 

-

The Avvi’da Vina don’t necessarily look up to ancient elven society (if anything, they’re one of it’s largest critics, as one of the only groups that at least remembers it (and it’s bad sides) somewhat accurately, unaffected by the propaganda and altered visions spread by the elven alliance), but they do still take a heavy interest in all elven culture and history, since they see it as their history as well, and feel they have an obligation to document information about their people, especially since they’re in a unique position to do so with their  rare historical connections. Many of them work as scholars and historians, traveling to ancient ruins, trying to preserve the old elven customs that still exist in vampiric society, locating historical texts, learning ancient elvish as a second or third language, etc. They also keep up extensively with modern elven societies and traditions, mostly to track how things have changed over time and look at how cultural customs have evolved (especially the dramatic transformation of the elven religion), as another one of their main goals is just to keep, as accurately as possible, a record of all of elven history.

  Which is kind of odd to consider, that a group of avirre’thel/vampires, literally the species MOST widely hated by elves (at least elves in the alliance/under the influence of the Fanyiniri) are also like.. arguably the foremost experts on elven society and it’s customs, traditions, architecture, language, etc. etc. (and also the other way around like, the Fanyiniri literally almost wiped out their entire species during the many wars they had but.. Avvi’da Vina are still, just bigg ole elf nerds (which is of course because they see themselves as elves rather than anything different but still lol)).

-

Though they’ve made many attempts to gain influence in elven society and take what they see as their rightful position as members of the elven alliance or some other influential elven group**, the Avvi’da Vina haven’t made much progress in this area. They did manage once to get invited to speak briefly at an annual meeting of the alliance (despite extreme efforts by the Fanyiniri to keep them out entirely), to make a public case explaining why they should be allowed to join, but it soon became clear they were invited mostly as a joke amongst some of the higher ups, and pretty much just got mocked and threatened by the crowd, then escorted out by guards once the royals had gotten tired of trying to tease them (like it was intended to be a ‘yeah lmao lets invite them and just make fun of them until they cry and make them look really stupid and embarrass themselves while we publicly degrade them as punishment for their audacity to even think they could have a presence among us’ sort of thing, but after like.. fifteen minutes of them handling it fairly well despite being only two people standing alone in the center of a room being heckled by like hundreds of elves, staying composed and dodging trick questions and etc,  the leaders of the alliance just got agitated and had them sent away, since they were mostly failing to get the reaction they wanted out of them lol.. ).

** (despite them strongly disagreeing with like.. almost all current political ideals of countries and groups within the elven alliance, they still feel they should be a part of it, if anything especially so, to kind of reign them in and remind them of what their ancestors, which they claim to idolize so much, would have actually wanted. They still don’t support or condone the alliance at all, but do see themselves as in a unique position to appeal to them, as many elven societies (almost to an annoyingly obsessive degree) speak about the glory of the past, constantly praise and idealize elven history, etc. So they thought the alliance would be thrilled at the idea of welcoming a group with actual extensive knowledge and deeper connections to the ancient elves, but soon realized it was more complicated than that (that it may actually put them at a DISadvantage, as the alliance see them as a threat to the false version of history they’ve created, having people who can be like ‘No actually it didn’t happen like that, I was there’ is generally.. bad for their image lol) , despite these setbacks though, they still think they have some ground to stand on if they could convince the right people. Likewise, the Avvi’da Vina feel all elves should have a place at the alliance as well, not just themselves, and they usually believe that it could be reformed if an actual variety of elven voices were heard in the decisions made by the alliance (similar to the system of the vampiric council) , rather an only a select few. They feel either reforming or disbanding the alliance is absolutely necessary for the future of the elven people, and would like to be at the forefront of the efforts either way, though both options are...nearly impossibly difficult lmao)    

-

The Avvi’da Vina are most well known for their work with ancient elven texts (or, mostly their bickering with the Elven Alliance just to get their hands on them in the first place lol), and deciphering of the old language. It’s a lot of detail to go into so I’ll be brief about it here, but there were multiple forms of ancient elven writing, primarily a Fancy method, used only for important documentations (poetry, religious texts, often historical records of anything considered too significant to be written ‘simply’), and then a ‘simple’ script that was in everyday use among the people (and a few others but those were the main two). The Fancy method came first and was kind of the original writing system, the ‘simple’ form only came into use later once more of the population became literate.  For a majority of elven history, things were ONLY written down if they were really important (everything else was conveyed through song, stories, using rhymes to help remember things, etc.), and you had to ask special religious leaders/scribes to do it for you. 

( “Fancy” ancient elven is also kind of like, logographs, or more detailed lines and pictures which represent whole words/phrases/concepts, whereas the ‘simple’ writing system developed later by scribes for broader use is more of a syllabary (with characters only representing sounds), similar to what’s used in modern elven, and Avirrekava. Because it was so detailed though, it took a LOT longer to write and was kind of like an artistic labor rather than just something you could scratch down quickly.)

Additionally, the ancient elven writing system and language are, at least by modern standards, pretty vague. Much of it is context or ‘current’ culture dependent, usually possible to interpret in many different ways with various implications, where it’s kind of one of those “you just had to be there at the time” sort of things (like someone who doesn’t use tumblr looking at a vaguely phrased internet meme, and since they weren’t steeped in that culture for whatever thing is being referenced, they take the wording literally, or misunderstand it, since the underlying implications go over their heads). You just sort of had to live within the culture at the time to understand how certain words were combined and why, the tone conveyed by choosing one word over another, etc. Especially since it was often quite flowery and artistic language, as it was just as much a form of art as it was record keeping.

( Like for example, a sentence could, in a literal sense, be: ‘(word for a grouping of living beings, typically people not animals) (word for sickness/illness) (word for rain) (word for sun)’ - but then that could be translated as “Everyone was sick but then they weren’t anymore after the passing of time (as implied by rain turning to sun)”, “Everyone is sick with an illness CAUSED by the cycle of rain and sun”, “Everyone gets sick sometimes, but this will pass, as all things do, just like all rain turns to sun”, “People are sick and the way to treat it is related to weather/rain/sun”, “Everyone, if you feel sick, you should take a warm bath (water (rain) which is hot (like the sun)” , + like 10 other possible meanings lol.. )

ANYWAY, all this background to say, SINCE there are a handful of Avirre’thel still living that either were actually alive during the time that  ancient elven was still prominently used (the later end of the era at least), or their parents/grandparents were (and could teach them), older Avirre’thel are thought to have much better insight on ancient elven translation than any other group. Of course, especially with even older VERY ancient texts, the Avirre’thel don’t know everything and since stuff is so vague it can still be hard to know the true meaning, but they at least have an advantage and more personal experience with the language than others would have. While the language is.. reasonably accessible (in the sense of info about it being decently documented) and any scholar with a few years of study could translate it literally from a book or something, much of the true meanings or more subtle implications have been lost. There’s often a lot of room for misinterpretation (especially if interpreting something a certain way would suit someone’s political agenda *cough* elven alliance *cough*), or lack of general context, even if the very literal simple knowledge of it is there...

SO, part of the work the Avvi’da Vina really spend a lot of resources focusing on (as Avirre’thel who fully embrace their ancient elven ancestry and wish to engage with the old culture, share it, etc. as much as possible) is tracking down old elven texts, creating and spreading their own personal translations (using the Avirre’thel’s unique cultural knowledge of the era), attempting to interpret documents that are thought to be too vague/too old/indecipherable, etc. 

Especially since the Alliance wants to be The Number One Source Of All Things Elven, and will kind of gatekeep old texts and artifacts, hiding them away in secret libraries and only giving their own public interpretations of info, and the Avvi’da Vina are kind of focused on uniting all elves and wanting to share an accurate honest open history with everyone, they also sort of see it as a mission to steal documents from the Alliance (or just beat them to it, if some new ruin is discovered or something), translate them themselves with better background knowledge, and then publish that version for free to the people and any elf who’d like to read it (even allowing them to see the original writing for comparison), rather than them having to jump through hoops with the Alliance just to so much as gain access to their Officially Declared Interpretations, which likely are not even very accurate.

(this is part of why the Alliance has lowkey beef with them, even though the Avvi’da Vina are such a small niche group that a massive multinational organization like the Elven Alliance wouldn’t bother with them, the Avvi’da Vina do essentially just follow them around like ‘Actually, You Are Wrong! : )’. Like, the alliance will make some announcement like “New ancient religious texts have been discovered, come to your local shrine and pay a small sum of money to gain access to our Official Translations of what they say!”,  etc.. then like a week and a half later the Avvi’da Vina are like “what’s up everyone, we hired a shapeshifting jhevona spy to steal the documents and have translated them ourselves, as usual the alliance are WRONG as hellll lmaooooo, here’s what it actually says and we’re going to mass print our translations, give them out for free, go to local elven cities and spread the word, and also just hmu if you want to see the original texts in person because we have them now LOL” . 

So though the Alliance has a policy to (at least publicly) ignore their existence, you can still tell the Avvi’da Vina have gotten under their skin, since they keep putting new measures in place to prevent them from sharing information with the public, ban suspected Avvi’da Vina members from openly traveling to Alliance countries (not directly of course, since they won’t openly acknowledge the group, but the guards of cities have certain ~~suspicious things~~ to look for (like arresting any Avirre’thel seen distributing pamphlets, or speaking anything that sounds like  ancient elvish, or talking to groups of interested looking elves as if they’re explaining something to them, etc..  but then they’d tell them like “Oh, we just arrested you for uh.. like.. um... you know.. loitering? yeah... anyway please get out of the city.”) , etc. etc.

  Luckily, they are received much better by their own government.  The council of Navyete sees them as very useful and various higher ranking (which really just means they’ve studied more) members of the Avvi’da Vina regularly serve as advisors to council members any time a law or issue relevant to the elves is being discussed, due to their expertise in the area, and especially their ability to translate both ancient and modern elvish texts. In return for assisting the council, they often just ask for.. nerd stuff.. like access to connections in foreign governments so they can gain passage into old ruins, or allowances of money they’ll put towards research, etc. Which of course, the council is happy to oblige. Though most avirre’thel are less enthusiastic about their connections to the elves, they at least are genuinely curious about history, and politically often promote the pursuit of any new knowledge, since it’s something that is generally valued in their culture, even if it’s knowledge that happens to be about something most people wouldn’t be invested in lol. 

--

~ Idanya ~ 

Idanya Vashesi (person in all the images above since.. I needed something to draw so this isn’t just a plain wall of text, so I thought a minor focus on a prominent member of the Avvi’da Vina would be something quick to sketch lol) isn’t the leader of the group, nor the one who originally founded it, but she is currently seen kind of as the face of the organization. On top of being a high ranking expert in a broad range of elven studies, she specializes in communication, and serves as their primary representative and speaker (she’s one of the two members who had the pleasure of standing in front of the elven alliance and getting mocked that one time). She overall has the most outside interactions with alliance elves, and is quite persistent in always trying to get them to hear her out or have her group invited to things, even if 99.9% of the time she’s just rudely refused or harassed. 

She has however made many strong connections with the scattered groups of elves that exist outside of the alliance, and is one of the Avvi’da Vina members that most regularly travels to speak with them about elven things. Though sometimes she faces hostilities from them (usually over them having different sets of information, like her telling them something about ancient elves that they refuse could ever be true, etc.), most elven cities and groups outside of the alliance find it refreshing to have a source of more accurate information about their history and culture that hasn’t been tainted by the influence of the alliance (though they obviously may be initially skeptical about what they perceive as an outsider coming in claiming to have information about them, after a while of speaking they usually can tell it’s legit and not just some random weirdo showing up who doesn’t know what they’re talking about lol) . Many non-allied elves are somewhat separated from broader elven society and have had certain  information hidden from them by the Main Alliance Elves Who Try To Control All Elven Stuff, so they usually welcome Idanya and the other Avvi’da Vina as allies. There have even been many discussions about the Avvi’da Vina and other various non-alliance elven groups starting an alliance of their own, rather than merely trying to gain recognition from the main alliance to reform them from within, but currently the main elven alliance holds too much power and many fear this would be immediately seen as a threat, which would likely start wars and other conflicts that none of them would be prepared to handle. 

Thus, she’s still never going to give up trying to get into the main elven alliance and have her people recognized officially as fellow elves lol.. it’s like.. her life’s challenge at this point. She’s such a good speaker she could convince just about anyone of anything, so the fact that the alliance elves just dismiss her and never listen to her is like.. One Day.. It Will Be Over For You Silly Bastards.. she WILL continue nagging you until she meets her goals and has her opinions heard and respected.. she is immortal.. she will outlive all of you.. generations of elven royalty will come and go and there she will be.. showing up to the same damn place for the 6,000th time, as perky and suave and well spoken as ever like “Hey! Ready to let me in yet? ; ) " lmao

--

~ Controversy among their fellow Avirre’thel ~

Like mentioned, most Avirre’thel don’t see themselves as elven, and have developed a strong sense of pride as a distinct species ( if your own people cast you out and reject you, one common response is ‘allright fuck you then, we’ll do our own thing.. die mad about it bitch’, which is certainly the position that the avirre’thel took in their early days as a newly formed society lol) , but they also don’t make much attempt to refute the efforts of the Avvi’da Vina, since like.. everything they claim is still.. technically factually valid so... Most avirre’thel’s view of the organizations’ philosophy is basically just:  “Well... you’re not WRONG.. I guess.. I personally wouldn’t interpret it that way though, but like.. do your thing I suppose, you funky little elf nerds”. 

The main arguments that other avirre’thel raise against the Avvi’da Vina’s views are probably - 

1. Obviously the Avirre’thel, despite maybe technically yes being the closest living descendants to the ancient elves, can’t actually BE elves, since they can’t mate with elves and are very obviously and scientifically classified as a separate species, and thus don’t need to be a part of broader elven society.

(which the Avvi’da Vina counter with  the fact that there are some subspecies of elves that are considered elves but have evolved to no longer be able to mate with certain types of elves, yet they haven’t had their classification as elves revoked. Their species is going to be a bit more complicated, since avirre’thel were created by magical interference by an ancient jhevona rather than evolving naturally, of course they’re going to be in a unique situation genetically, but in every other sense (culturally, etc.) should be considered elven. (and also: maybe they can’t mate with CURRENT evolution of elves, but could the mate with ANCIENT elves if they were still around?? Because of how genetically similar they still are to them? Perhaps. Maybe they could still mate with certain types of elves, it’s just that currently they’re the only “ancient elven blood” still around))

and 2.  The Avvire’thel are a historically extremely isolated species (mostly due to becoming more reclusive after aggression from the elves),  their societies have developed so separately, it doesn’t make any sense to attempt to “rejoin” them now, after 20,000 years of little contact and both becoming extremely different groups, even if they share the same origins. 

( which the Avvi’da Vina counter with the position that,  if anything, the fact that both cultures have evolved so separately is more of a reason to be welcome amongst elves, as with their immortality,  vampiric society is basically an ancient elven society almost frozen in time, and that it would be best to cooperate and learn from each other, and for elves to be able to connect with parts of their history and tradition which were assumed lost but have been preserved within the small isolated species of the Avirre’thel. )

They face some other points of opposition, but those are the main issues people usually take. But again, generally most people view them as strange and a bit odd for being so interested in elven stuff, but not harmful. The only groups of  avirre’thel that have ever been aggressive towards the Avvi’da Vina are like.. small fringe anti-elf groups, mostly the occasional older vampires who lived way back when avirre’thel would still traditionally cut the points of their ears off just to remove association with the elves and etc., which usually is a pretty rare viewpoint in modern day, even for elders. 

Though Avirre’thel society has made a lot of efforts to have a nuanced view on elves (especially in situations like with the Fanyniri, where it’s largely the government committing terrible acts and not the population (who mostly live in prisons and have no rights so like.. not much say at all in what their government does), thus the people themselves shouldn’t be hated/punished), due to the history of mistreatment and the sheer amount of anti-vampiric propaganda that’s pervasively spread throughout allied elves (and reached even some groups outside of the main alliance), many Avirre’thel are  understandably skeptical about attempting to forge any sort of relationship with broader elven society, especially those in the alliance. But the Avvi’da Vina have very strongly assured the council that the organization’s efforts to be accepted as elven and have a say in elven politics won’t interfere with the Avvire’thel species as a whole. They basically just want to have a seat on the alliance, and enough respect to share their knowledge and have their ideas heard, but they’re not attempting to literally integrate their societies together or speak on behalf of the citizens of Navyete and make huge international deals with elven nations or anything like that.  They really just want to represent themselves and have their species be respected for what they are. So for now at least, their group is seen as harmless to most avirre’thel and they’re allowed to continue seeking alliance with the elves and etc., since the people of Navyete and the council don’t see their actions as really bringing any risk or consequences against the species**. (and again, even if other Avirre’thel disagree with their overall philosophy, they are still widely respected as historical experts and etc., so the public’s view of them  isn’t that negative).

(** however, if the Avvi’da Vina did ever like.. follow through with some of the talk about allying with non-alliance elves and starting an alliance of their own that stands in opposition to the main elven alliance, the vampiric council and citizens of Navyete may have to sever ties with them, or even actively step in to try to stop them, because that would very very likely start some type of war, and with Fanyin (one of the overall most powerful elven countries in the alliance) being right next to Navyete, they would absolutely not be comfortable with possibly having a repeat of the old conflicts with the elves. Especially if their own people were involved in starting this alliance (thus provoking the main allied elves), it’s almost certain that even if the non-alliance elven groups were the main ones leading the idea, the avirre’thel would get the brunt of the damage and would immediately become the main target, at least of the Fanyiniri, since they.. would never miss a chance to randomly scapegoat the avirre’thel and find any reason to try to wipe them out again. So depending on their next moves, the Avvi’da Vina do have the potential to be significantly more controversial, and possibly lose all support they’ve had from their own species, but for now, it still stands that most avirre’thel are cool with the little group of elf nerds lol

Also idk where to fit this into the text so I’ll just put it here lol. There are about 250 members of the Avvi’da Vina currently. They are a reasonably well known group and there would probably be more members, if it weren’t for the contentious nature of the idea that the Avirre’thel should be recognized as elves. Because of their culture’s focus on stuff like history and education, there are probably a lot of fellow Nerds out there in the general vampiric population that would love to join the group and get to do stuff like visit old elven ruins and learn alongside experts of ancient elven knowledge and etc., but most probably can’t reconcile the organization’s broader goals, and reject it respectfully on principle. If they ever dropped the whole ‘we believe we should be recognized as elves and are actually elves not our own distinct species’ thing though and just became like, an elven historical and modern cultural studies society, their member numbers would dramatically rise lmao. Most avirre’thel just aren’t comfortable calling themselves elven though. 

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and that’s all for this.. random topic I woke up at like 5am to write about. I tried to organize this so it’s not as rambly stream of consciousness but bhbbb.. hopefully it’s comprehensible 

[myassbrokethefall]

Do you have any favorite scifi shows? Or any recommendations?

Well! This is a fun ask. Let me see…

So, I really like sci-fi, but sometimes I also don’t like sci-fi. I overdosed a little bit on spaceship stuff after my years of Star Trek obsession and then BSG (and like, I hear The Expanse is great but I just…haven’t been in the mood), and these days my favorite sci-fi is talky, high-concept atmospheric mystery stuff in a fairly realistic world where something is a little bit weird. What I really DON’T like is violence/shooting/chasing/action, and a lot of sci-fi, unfortunately, is that. (Westworld, I am looking at your ass.) I also am a LITTLE bit over sci-fi as sledgehammery social parable, again a la Star Trek. Even though I’ll always love Star Trek (and will get around to watching Discovery one of these days). 

Some sci-fi TV that I’ve enjoyed recently includes:

(hey surprise, this got very long! so it’s under a cut)

Dark. There’s just one season of this on Netflix right now, but I LOVVVVVED it. Talk about atmospheric. It made me want to move to Germany and live in a forest where it rains all the time. It’s in German – this isn’t a bother to me because I like subtitles, but it’s available dubbed as well if you prefer that. It takes place in a small town and starts with a missing child, and it quickly becomes clear that something strange is going on. Time travel is an element. A central part of it becomes about the way all the characters in the town are interconnected and how the events of the past affect the future. It’s part Lost, part Stranger Things, part Back to the Future. 

The Returned/Les Revenants. So there’s an American show called The Returned as well, and this is not that one – the one I’m talking about is in French (sorry…I swear some ones without subtitles are coming) and was on uh, IFC or something like that. One day in a(n extremely attractive and cinematic) French town in the mountains, a girl comes home from a class field trip…except she died on that field trip years ago, in a bus accident, and her family is completely shocked and freaked out. The same thing is happening all across town. Includes one (1) very creepy child. Very spooky and also super atmospheric. (One reason I loved Dark so much was that aesthetically it reminded me of Les Revenants.)

The 4400. I binged this show and had a window of time in my life where I was super obsessed with it. Premise is similar to The Returned, actually: A bunch of people (4,400 of them to be precise) who were believed to be the victims of alien abductions – across many years – are returned to earth all at the same time, all at the age they left. So you have a man who was taken in the 1950s (Mahershala Ali!) and a little girl from the 1930s, etc., all dropped back into modern-day America – and most of them (all of them? I forget) have mysterious powers of various kinds. Two police detectives (am I predictable or what) investigate. Things escalate from there. It is a little XF-y in a way I appreciate, while also being totally different (and much less arty than something like Les Revenants). 

Stranger Things. I might as well list it…everyone knows about this show but it really is pretty great. Season 1 especially. Huge ET vibes, creepy/Spielbergy, not a cop-out where it’s all a metaphor or something (pet peeve). 

Fringe. This isn’t so recent (well, neither is The 4400), but if you like sci-fi and you haven’t watched it, you should! It starts out being a liiiiiiittle bit of a less-hooky ripoff of XF (a group of FBI folks, including a retired mad scientist basically, investigate paranormal cases), but after a few episodes it finds its groove and it becomes its own weird and wonderful thing. It was a show I really enjoyed and it ended satisfyingly. John Noble as Walter Bishop is fantastic, and one thing I really loved about it was that it was not afraid to make things happen and shake up the premise if needed. 

Jessica Jones. I really, really am not into Marvel or any of the superhero stuff, but I like this show a lot. It puts the idea of having “powers” in a very grounded kind of gritty, cynical, noir-y setting and I enjoy that. It’s also woman-focused, which is nice, and it’s just different from other stuff on TV. I dig it. 

Orphan Black. Man, I loved Orphan Black. What a fun show, and – not necessarily the most important thing to me in a show, but hugely refreshing nonetheless – it’s also very woman-centered. The premise is that a woman named Sarah sees someone who looks exactly like her – right before the doppelganger throws herself in front of a train. And in unraveling the mystery, Sarah learns that she’s a clone and she has a bunch of “sisters.” Tatiana Maslany is FREAKING AMAZINGGGGG as all the various clones. It is definitely sci-fi, but it’s also a lot of fun and just a fast-moving, action-packed (but not in a way that makes my eyes glaze over) cool-ass show. 

Grimm. Grimm was a pretty silly network-y show, but my affection for it really never waned (though it also never really went too far above “mild”). Premise: Basically, that fairytale monsters (broadly speaking) are real and walk among us (disguised for the most part), and there are these people called Grimms who can see them and are supposed to fight them. Lots of ancient documents, old books, mysterious keys, etc. This one dude who is a police detective in Portland (it was shot in Portland and is basically the second Portland-iest show after Portlandia, as far as I can tell) finds out that he’s a Grimm, and he meets this guy who is one of these monsters but also a delightfully civilized clock nerd who becomes his friend and helps him learn about this hidden world, and it’s pretty much monster-of-the-week episodes every week (though there is a mytharc of sorts involving an evil cabal of European royalty or something, snore). I think it’s the people who did Angel (which I never watched; I’m not a Buffy person). It also started the same year as Once Upon a Time, so it was the “other” fairytale show.

The Leftovers. Technically, it’s sci-fi. It’s also just very imaginative storytelling, and is a good example of what I mean by high-concept and atmospheric and something being a little bit weird in an otherwise contemporary setting. (This is a post-Lost Damon Lindelof, and Damon Lindelof has learned from his Lost mistakes, with wonderful results.) The central premise is a sci-fi one (2% of the earth’s population mysteriously vanishes), but aside from that there are also just a lot of kind of fantastic imaginative leaps and surreal settings and…ah, The Leftovers. My standard intro/warning: Season 1, while really good, is VERY depressing; Season 2 becomes marginally less depressing while also changing things up considerably and in my opinion becoming much better; Season 3 is even better than that. Love you, show. 

Lost. I suppose I should mention it even though it’s another obvious one. I have rarely been hooked as hard as I was by the pilot of this show. It doesn’t necessarily deliver on everything it promises, and it’s interesting to think of it in terms of it being one of the first shows to, basically, cancel itself – to choose to end so that it could pace its story effectively and lead to a deliberate ending instead of just vamping forever and trying to keep sucking the audience in for one more season until that stopped working and it was canceled. However, before that happened there was some time-killing, and I think that maybe contributes to people’s perception that it didn’t know what it was doing half the time. A divisive ending that I did not have a problem with. If you watch it in the spirit of being taken on a ride and enjoying the feelings that the twists and turns give you in the moment, you’ll find it more satisfying than if you’re trying to solve every mystery and trying to make it all work out perfectly with every loose end tied up.  

The OA. This was a weird-ass motherfucking show on Netflix and I still don’t know what the fuck it was about. I feel like I dreamed it. It maybe involves angels? And stuff. 

Carnivale. Lord, talk about atmosphere. This was an HBO show several years ago now about a creepy traveling circus in the 1930s. Being on HBO, it’s very violent and dirty and twisted and stuff. I was obsessed with it, and loved watching it although I vaguely remember the ending being not super satisfying? I should rewatch it, really, because I have forgotten a lot about it beyond impressions (it started in 2003). It’s not that sci-fi, but it has kind of mysterious portents and shit like that all over the place. Anytime I see anything remotely carnival-y I’m like AAAHHH CARNIVALE

Westworld. Sigh…I’m having a lot of trouble connecting to the season of Westworld that’s currently airing (Season 2, on HBO). I loved Season 1. My opinion is that they blew their premise too quickly and now they have nowhere to go – it’s just been violent chaos of the sort that puts me to sleep. Literally – one episode a couple of weeks ago I tried to watch and fell asleep during TWICE – two evenings in a row – before I finally got through it on Day 3. Because it was just a bunch of shooting. But the premise is cool – in the undetermined nearish future, there is a giant elaborate theme park where extremely realistic robots interact with the superrich guests who pay to come and basically be super destructive and violent (this show doesn’t have a particularly high opinion of humanity) in an Old West-themed setting. Like Disney World if your dream was to fuck and murder everyone in the Hall of Presidents. It’s made by one of the Nolans so there are lots of twists and also you don’t know what the hell is going on half the time. But there are some high-budget groovy sci-fi set pieces in it, and if you like amazing piano covers of popular songs (sometimes but not always in the in-show context of the player piano in the saloon), that is a fantastic bonus (the music is terrific overall). ROBOTS.

Battlestar Galactica. Speaking of robots. I loved the hell out of this show, although I have my issues with it. I felt when I first saw it (this is the 2000s remake I’m talking about, not the 1970s original) that it was like Star Trek had grown up. It gets more and more high-concept the longer it goes on, and some people weren’t fans of where it ended up (I, again, was fine with it), but it starts out with a hell of a premise: Cylons (humanlike robots originally created by humanity, which then evolved) destroy almost all of the human race except for a few stragglers in a few scattered ships, who have to pull together and somehow survive. Great acting, great writing, big themes, Laura Roslin. 

Black Mirror. This is an anthology series, meaning each one is a short story basically, with different characters, a different near-future setting, and a different premise (often having to do with technology going wrong. In the words of Mallory Ortberg: What If Phones, But Too Much?) Some of them are better than others but if you can take some upsetting conceptual stuff, it’s really a super interesting show. Your bingeing tolerance may vary, but I personally could not handle more than a couple of episodes a night.

Roswell. Holy shit I was so into this fucking teen soap opera about aliens. Also not recent. They might do a remake of this I heard?? MAX + LIZ 4EVA

Millennium. Yes…Chris Carter’s Other Show. I’ve said this before, but in a weird way I feel like this show is…CC’s best work???? Without the chemistry supernova of Mulder and Scully dimming everything around it, the “scary stories” he’s always talking about actually have room to be kind of interesting. It also works with his inclination to do what is essentially an anthology series loosely connected via recurring characters that are almost more narrators/observers than participants. In XF, this makes me want to break things when it results in stagnated character growth and no continuity and endless reset-button-pushing. In Millennium, Frank wandering grimly through the show universe encountering fable after fable (grimmer than XF – less on the stretchy mutants and fat-sucking vampires and lake monsters and Reticulans and spooky green bugs; more serial killers and cults and angels and apocalyptic stuff) actually worked pretty darn well for me. It’s not that the characters aren’t good, but they are VERYYYYY archetypal (kind of like how M&S could have been if not given such aliveness and humanity by David and Gillian, and Morgan and Wong and Vince Gilligan at that). Frank Black is the tormented detective, he has a beautiful kind wife and an innocent young daughter and they live in a beatific yellow house and he has to keep them safe from the evils out in the darkness. You might say this is hammered home a lot. But: the kind of mythic tone of it is a much better fit here than on XF. Lance Henriksen is perfect as Frank, and some of the stories are really absorbing and emotional. I cried during WAY more Millennium episodes (I can think of three or four off the top of my head that I remember WEEPING openly over, one of which stars Darren McGavin) than I ever have at XF. 

Everything changes in Season 2 when Morgan and Wong take over as (I believe) showrunners – things lighten up considerably versus S1; there’s even a Darin episode! With Jose Chung! And the Spotnitz Sanitarium! – and then everything changes again in S3 when they leave. The show does suffer from a lack of cohesion in that sense, and frankly the “mytharc” parts never did a lot for me (loosely, the world is going to end in the year 2000 and a cabal of mysterious dudes something something). But there is a lot of cool shit in this show. There really is. Every few years I attempt a rewatch and never finish; I should try again. In late fall, which is the only time Millennium should be watched. 

 BONUS

Face Off. This isn’t sci-fi per se (it’s a reality competition show, on Syfy), but if you’re a sci-fi person you might love it. The way I describe it to people is very simple: It’s the exact same premise and structure as Project Runway, except instead of fashion, it’s FX makeup. The best thing about it is that everyone is NICE and HELPFUL to each other. It’s a bunch of creative nerds making monsters together and the competition element is there but no one is a dick and there’s no fighting and drama. Michael Westmore, who did the makeup on Star Trek: TNG among many other acclaimed projects, is the mentor (and the dad of the show’s host, McKenzie Westmore), and he pops in to give dad advice to all these starstruck dorks. The new season just started and it’s just a fun show. I have, at times, thought of it as my FAVORITE show on TV. 

Well, that was probably more than you wanted, anon! I feel like I’m missing some, too. TV! I like it.