#Inspired by the fact I used to do this to my Dad and sing 'it's veeryyy niiicee' as I beaded his hair lol

[afroplatypus]

Being pack leader to creatures with a penchant for adornment involves many hours of plaiting, daisy chaining and spending what little coin you have on trinkets that the little ones might otherwise try to steal.

It also involves getting a very pretty new look every now and again.

[aza-writes]

Morning Affirmations

Lip Gallagher x female!reader

Requested: no

Summary: Lip walks in on his girlfriend singing to the younger kids while she gets them ready for the day. Takes place in season 4 after Liam gets home from the hospital

Warnings: few curse words, mentions of drug use (Fiona in jail) but overall, it’s just tons of FLUFF

A/N: inspired by “I love my body” by @mothermoon on TikTok. Might rewrite something similar for dad!lip, lmk what you think. Got bored before lab and wrote this

The floorboards creaked under every step Lip took to get down to the kitchen. He wasn’t too concerned with anything too wrapped up in his mind until two sweet voices pull him out.

“I love my body from my…” 

“Head to my toes.” 

Liam’s voice was hard to hear, even in the quietness of the unusually empty Gallagher house. Everyone was already at school or wherever they ran off to today—leaving Lip home alone to take care of some things. 

Liam has only been home from the hospital for two days, leaving Lip and the rest of the family still scrambling without Fiona running the show. Lip had school off today, some random college holiday that didn’t make sense for a lot of people, but they took it anyway. 

Lip had been out of bed since 5 that morning, unsure if it was considered a late night or an early morning due to the fact he hadn’t slept for more than a few hours the night before. His mind was going a million miles an hour, mixed with him worrying himself sick about Liam and going to check on him every thirty minutes. Every time he would get up from his bed, y/n would sit up, too. Her concerned look was always dismissed with a quick “go back to sleep” or “I’ll be back soon” from Lip. The “soon” in question was around five to ten minutes of Lip just sitting in front of Liam’s bed, watching his chest rise and fall. 

Y/n stayed up and waited for Lip the first few times, but soon enough her eyes got too heavy for her to ignore. Even with the extra sleep, caffeine would be her best friend today. 

Lip’s mind was still groggy as he trudged down the stairs, stress and sleep deprivation felt like chains were strapped to the back of his ankles. He barely made out the words y/n and Liam were exchanging. 

“I love my face…” She lingered for a second, allowing Liam to think about the next verse. She smiles and continued on. “My-” 

“Eyes, my mouth my nose.” Lip could help but smile at the sight of Liam touching every body part mentioned. He clearly knew this song, yet Lip couldn’t think of any of the words. When ever you would sing it to one of his younger siblings, all he could do was hear your voice. The kindergarten-teacher-like tone was enough for him to abandon all of his thoughts and focus on you. 

“I like the way I look when I look in the mirror.” Liam didn’t have to wait for y/n this time, he sang it with her. Their voices both were quiet, almost scared to wake anyone up, but the house stayed quiet. It was just those three in that house, the outside world didn’t matter. 

“I stand a little closer just to see a little clearer.” Both of their smiles were beaming. Liam giggling at y/n’s little tickles all over his belly and neck. Lip’s grew too. Y/n was so amazing with the kids, Lip could’ve sworn it as always been this way. Y/n and Lip, Lip and y/n. They belonged together. 

Everyone in his family loved her. Carl made her a gift out of melted spoons and forks, Debbie demands they have a girls day at least once a month. Shit, even Frank called her “one of the good ones.” Technically it was after she downed a shot of vodka without even wincing, but he still liked her non the less. 

Y/n turns around smiling, it only growing when she finally sees Lip. 

“Good morning babe.” 

“Morning babe!” Liam repeats immediatly, causing Lip and y/n to giggle with him. 

Lip pours two cups of coffe before heading to the kitchen table. “Good morning to you.” He sets the coffe right in front of y/n while kissing her cheek. He carefully set his down too and kissed Liams cheek. “Good morning little man.” 

[onlyswan]

summary: in which christmas is upon us and jungkook just wants to say that he loves you.

> fluff / wc: 3.4k

> warnings: poor baby is sick so he’s on vocal rest :( oc loves snow but is scared of slipping on it, a littleee suggestive with an allusion to a hard-on

note: just to be clear the bold texts are the lines jungkook says to you using his phone ^^ + the first scene is inspired by this ask !!! + i had a nap after my finals then started writing this lol my brain is still fried. happy holidays my dear friends <3 stay warm and healthy <3

—

jungkook plops down on the bed, about to slide his sweatshirt over his head until it gets forcefully ripped away from his hands. a yell of his dog’s name dies down on his tongue as bam’s fast paws slide all the way across the living room floor. releasing yet another crestfallen sigh, he follows after his stolen piece of clothing.

however, the path gets blocked by you, standing infront of him with a hand over your waist.

“and why are you walking around only wearing boxers?” you ask him quizzically, raising your eyebrows. “baby, please don’t get sicker than you already are.”

he pouts sadly, pointing at the couch where bam stands tall, his two-weeks-old sweatshirt hanging from the dog’s teeth.

“bam!” you turn to look at bam, and he tilts his head to the side innocently. “come here. give it back to your dad.”

jungkook scratches his head when bam drops the sweatshirt on the floor, stepping on it as he jumps off the couch to jog towards you. he can’t even point out the fact that it was just fresh from the laundry because he left the whiteboard in the kitchen and his phone is in the bedroom. oh my god, he can’t even complain about how much he fucking hates being on vocal rest.

well, he did try once this morning, using the whiteboard. with eleven exclamation points and the sad emoji drawn with extra details to be exact. okay, maybe twice. he erased the sad emoji to replace it with a crying one when you caught him making coffee, which the doctor told him he isn’t allowed to drink until his throat heals because it can dehydrate and irritate it. to be fair, having coffee every morning has been a part of his daily routine. he didn’t even realize he was making coffee until you started scolding him.

due to the cold weather and his intense recording sessions for the past week, he woke up with a sore throat and hoarse voice yesterday morning. aside from taking the prescribed medication, he was advised to go on a vocal rest, too. what makes it absolutely hellish for him? it’s not difficult to obey doctor’s orders. because it’s not like he could actually use his voice even if he wanted to. almost nothing comes out when he tries.

this gloomy situation reminded him why he religiously drinks vitamins and takes good care of his voice in the first place. it’s one thing to take a break from singing . . . but to completely abstain from talking? the last time he said ‘i love you’ was almost two days ago. he wants to curl up into a ball, cry, and scream.

and just like what he’s been doing since yesterday to express his misery, he sighs, lazily draping his arms around you. bam ends up lying down on the floor behind you when he realizes he won’t be getting any attention.

“oh, my poor baby. i love you.” you coo, tenderly rubbing his naked back, hoping it provides him a little more comfort and warmth. “you’ll be better in no time. just give your voice the rest it needs, hmm?”

you feel him nod against your shoulder. his embrace becomes tighter as he slumps, leaning more of his weight on you. you plant your feet firmly on the ground to prevent the two of you from falling, and you allow him to hold on to you for however long he needs.

“are you sure calvin klein hasn’t offered you guys a deal yet?”

and that’s when he pulls away. he stares at you for a second before shaking his head, fluffy hair bouncing as he does so.

“maybe it got lost in the mail?”

he shakes his head again, a bunny smile creeping on his face because of how adorably serious you’re being over such a random topic. how do you possibly miss a mail from the calvin klein? your teasing touch travels down to the curves of his waist, until your fingers trace the waistband of his boxers, sparking tingles in his abdomen and all the way down there. only then does he realize that he’s still half naked.

your nose scrunches as you smile innocently. what a minx. you never give his poor heart a rest. “then i guess you’re for my eyes only.”

body, heart, and soul— for your eyes only. but he wouldn’t say it even if he was able to speak because it sounds too cheesy outside of the song he hasn’t played you yet, so he kisses your cheek to say i am.

you pat his butt twice, urging him to head back to the bedroom. “go get dressed now, or i’ll change my mind and leave alone.”

he narrows his eyes at the sweatshirt left lying on the floor, and you click your tongue when the realization dawns on you.

“i’ll wash it later. it just had to be the white one, huh?”

—

“oh, baby, wait! forgot your scarf!” you rip your hand away from the doorknob, bolting back to the bedroom.

jungkook waits by the door, holding up his phone in landscape view, the words ‘but i don’t have a scarf?’ flashing on the screen. he only sees this at concerts, having done it himself before— a fan using their phone as a makeshift banner. and here he is, using it to his maximum advantage in his daily life.

“well, i do!” you enthusiastically respond to his message when you return, holding up the two scarves you managed to find in your cabinet. “pink with black checkered pattern or indigo? it’s shibori.”

he points at your right hand, and his heart flutters inside his ribcage when your face evidently lights up. you drape the pink scarf over his nape, wrapping the longer end twice around his neck to make it even with the other end. you take a quick step back to check him out, and it matches perfectly with his all-black outfit.

“nice and warm.” you say sweetly as you stroke his shiny hair.

he types on his phone before showing you the screen: ‘it’s so cold outside wear a scarf too :(’

you wear the indigo scarf without tying or wrapping it around your neck, leaving both ends draping down almost the same length as your jacket. this makes your boyfriend tut. he mimics your actions from earlier, making sure it’s warm but still breathable. you hide a pout. this scarf doesn’t match your outfit at all, but just like how you also ate soup for dinner last night so he wouldn’t feel sad and lonely about eating bland food, you do it anyway.

you look down when you feel a poking at your thigh. “oh. hi. be a good boy, bamie, okay? we’ll be back before dinnertime.”

despite the dirty white sweatshirt in the hamper, jungkook gives bam his good boy head pats before locking the front door.

—

you hum along to the christmas songs playing in the stores you pass by, restraining yourself from skipping along the pavement so you won’t slip on the unswept snow that fell almost the entire evening. jungkook is holding your hand firmly as you share a heating pad. his free one is tucked in the pocket of his padded jacket to shield it from the cold. you made sure that he was leaving the house as warm as possible, even stuffing earmuffs in your bag incase he starts complaining about freezing ears, too.

you pull back the khaki knitted bucket hat a little over your head so it won’t block your vision. he can’t see the rest of your face, but the way your eyes crinkle as your cheeks rise beneath the mask makes him copy your smile. you’re not usually happy with walking crowded streets, but the holidays seem to be an exception.

you always marvel at the giant christmas trees they display in the middle of the cities. you watch hanging christmas lanterns in awe, the swirling colors dancing in your dilated pupils. you gush about the christmas sales, and the discount bundles. you insisted on owning two christmas trees, green and white, to use them interchangeably. and by insisted he means you went home one november night hauling a giant box without him having a single clue what was inside . . . and he was afraid to find out.

you tend to decorate a little late because you’re both usually busy by the end of the year, but you leave it up until you’re reminded that valentine’s day is nearing.

this year, it’s the white tree’s time to shine again. it was jungkook’s idea to go with the theme of pantone’s color of the year, very peri, a shade of periwinkle. you already decorated it with a purple star on top and christmas balls all around, with light blue flowers and candy canes as the accent. now you’re on a hunt for lights to wrap around it, and hopefully also toss in some of those little gift box ornaments you just can’t seem to goddamn find online. (spoiler alert: you fail to find them in person too)

“ah! they have all the colors.” you giggle as you grab the first box of lights you saw, which is green.

jungkook is walking to the other end of the shelf as he inspects the boxes of lights he brushes past, until he finds something you’d definitely love. he takes out the first two boxes to grab the one behind them, because well, many other people most probably already touched those.

“baby, please help. should we get white? or green? or pink?” you ask without looking at him, squinting at the three boxes infront of you in serious contemplation.

he catches your attention by bumping his arm against yours, proudly presenting the item he found with the words ‘this one has a remote control with twelve colors ^_^’ flashing on his phone screen.

of course, it goes to say that you feel sad about your sweet boy having a sore throat, because this man’s life literally revolves around his voice. you were anxious about how you were going to comfort him when you found out that he needs to be on a vocal rest. but you didn’t expect that it would end up with you being hopelessly endeared by his written communication and cute little emoticons.

you beam at him excitedly, taking the box from his hands. “i like these round bulbs better. i didn’t think they’d have this type of st-”

you flip it over to check the price, and the amount of numbers comically make your shoulders drop. “aaand that’s also twelve times the price of the regula- jungkook!”

you yelp in surprise when he tightly wraps his arms around you from behind, whisking you away before you can convince yourself not to get it.

after the employee tested out if the product is working well, you finally made your peace with the price tag. you can choose the colors for the lighting modes and patterns? sick.

it doesn’t come as a surprise when you find long lines extending past the belt stanchions that separate the two counters. jungkook glues himself to your back again, resting his chin on your shoulder. the beeping of the barcode reader sounds too loud for him, and he wishes they would turn up the speakers so he can hear the jazzy christmas songs better.

he behaves for the most part, gently swaying you back and forth to the music. at some point, he almost falls asleep on your shoulder while resting his eyes. he regrets not wearing his glasses today. when he opens them again, you’re already fifth in line. jungkook estimates that a good 10% of your relationship is spent waiting on cash register lines, and it may sound tiresome if you put it that way, but oddly enough, he doesn’t hate it at all.

he pulls up the notes app in his phone, and you instantly look down at the screen knowing that he has something to say to you.

‘i’m thirsty :( my throat is getting dry again’

“aw, my love.” you coo at him sadly, rubbing his forearm. “want chamomile tea with honey again?”

you feel him bob his head, his cheek brushing against yours as he types his response. ‘yes. it magically makes me feel better ㅠㅠ but the pain still comes back ㅠㅠ’

“it’s gonna be fine. just let me take care of you, okay? drink your tea at the bakery we passed by, then let’s cuddle when we get home.”

jungkook briefly pulls down his mask to press an appreciative kiss on your temple, a small smile forming on his lips because you taking care of him makes him feel significantly less shitty. about generally everything, really. but you just get extra fussy over him when he’s in pain and he adores it.

your cheek kisses? addicting. asking him how he’s feeling every hour with your sweet, nurturing voice? brings him to tears. scolding him about being stubborn? makes him feel loved. religiously refilling the humidifiers? he must marry you. burning his midnight oatmeal because you had to help him look for his whiteboard marker? funny.

“oh wait, it’s already 4pm. so you should eat dinner and take your meds first before cuddles.”

the medicine makes him drowsy, and considering that he is already drowsy, he knows he’s going to pass out to sleep as soon as his body gets tangled with yours. having a sore throat fucking sucks, but he’s kind of excited to get his longest sleep of the year yet.

—

jungkook heads straight to the table beside the window, letting you order alone so he doesn’t get charmed by the wide array of christmas-themed desserts displayed by the counter. the seductive smell of sweets permeate through every corner of the room, and it’s more than enough to have him drooling, really. but if he eats sugar, his voice’s time in prison will be extended.

he takes off his jacket, scarf, and mask to enjoy some warmth without the heavy layers. while he waits for you, he distracts himself with checking his inbox. he giggles quietly as he scrolls through the conversation between his members that took place earlier this noon. he was taking a nap at that time, courtesy of the medicine he took after breakfast. however, his attention gets torn away from the phone when he hears a gasp from another table.

it’s snowing pretty heavily again, engulfing the vibrant street in thicker piles of pure white. winter can sure be a nuisance, but god, is it breathtakingly magical. it’s fascinating how ice falling from the sky can transform a daily scenery into a wonderland of unadulterated joy. to jungkook, the human’s ability to breathe life into earth’s many natural processes gives him the enthusiasm to live through another cycle of the four seasons.

“snow is so pretty.” you sigh dreamily as you sit down beside him, sinking on the (personally, too) soft couch. “here’s your tea, babe. be careful. it’s still hot.”

mesmerized by what he calls his magic potion, he carefully picks up the cup by its handle. as he blows on the piping hot beverage, his gaze falls upon the saucer infront of you. it’s a blue donut with a snowflake intricately drawn on it— too pretty, he would feel bad about eating it.

“stop watching me. i feel bad.” you whine halfway through your donut, wiping the corners of your lips with a tissue paper.

your boyfriend feigns innocence, making a confused face before taking another sip of his tea.

“what do you want for dinner?”

with that question, he goes back to scrolling through his phone to look for a restaurant. craving to feel his warmth, you hold his waist as you rest your cheek on his toned bicep, curiously watching him navigate the food delivery app.

he shows you the chicken noodle soup from the family restaurant you’ve ordered from several times in the past. “yeah, that should be fine. as long as the meat and veggies are soft. put it as a request in the notes.”

he does as you told, explaining that he’s sick so he can only eat easy-to-swallow food. before he can proceed to the payment, you sneakily tap the plus sign beside the quantity to make order two servings. he look at you in question, because you always prefer rice over noodles.

“i’ll eat it with you. i want something warm in my tummy.” you smile sweetly, gesturing at the snow-covered street to reiterate your point.

you finish the rest of your donut while singing along to jingle bell rock, thighs bouncing along to the beat. your boyfriend watches you in amusement, laughing to himself when you mumble gibberish then sing louder when you know the lyrics again. after sending in the order, he shows you that it should arrive at your doorstep by 6pm.

he picks up his cup to finish the rest of his tea. he takes a small sip to find that it’s already at the perfect temperature. “mhmmm, so good.” he moans, eyebrows knitting in sheer delight as the warm liquid soothes his sore throat.

“jungkook!”

oh shit. right. he has a sore throat. that hurt.

his hand flies to cover his mouth, ‘oops!’ written all over his face.

you release a sigh. it’s the first proper sound you hear from him since the other night, so you can’t say that you’re mad. “is the tea that good?”

he snaps a thumbs up with a wink to confirm that ‘it’s the best!’ as he usually says. you conclude that the tea here is better than what he has at home, and so, you decide to secretly go here early tomorrow morning. his throat hurts the most after sleeping, and you’re hoping it would help put him in a good mood for the rest of the day.

jungkook wears his jacket again, and then the pink scarf. as it’s snowing harder and it’s getting colder, you take this opportunity to put the earmuffs on him.

“so cute.” you mutter quietly, kissing his cheek because it’s impossible not to shower him with love when your heart is overflowing with it. you roll your eyes when your boyfriend leans closer to wordlessly ask for another. nevertheless, you cup his face with your warm hand, kissing the mole on top of his cheekbone.

jungkook opens the umbrella the moment you step out of the bakery, and the sound of chimes get muted when the door closes on its own. the green eco-bag where the christmas lights are in gently swings as you walk back to the car parked three blocks away. parking was full almost everywhere so you had no choice but to go with whichever empty spot you saw.

you make a noise of confusion when jungkook suddenly grabs your arm to stop you from walking. he dishes out the phone from his pocket and begins typing using only his thumb. you remain standing there, motionless, waiting for him to communicate.

he pushes back his earmuffs a bit before showing you the screen. ‘baby do you want a pasta maker?’

“why would i want a pasta ma- do you want a pasta maker?”

‘they’re on sale at the store we went to :D’

you fail to hold back a laugh when you realize that he’s probably been thinking about it since you were waiting in line back at the store. “want to go back and let me buy it for you?”

‘i love you <3’

you hide a stupid grin under your mask, shyly pushing down the screen to hide it. “yah, we’re in the middle of the sidewalk.”

jungkook only giggles, stubbornly raising the screen to show it to you once more. you pull him over to the side when you see a big group of people about to walk by, accidentally stepping on a pile of snow that makes you an inch taller.

“i love you more.” you brush off the snow that fell on his hair, and you share a sincere smile that can be recognized even only through the eyes. “you promise that you’ll use it more than once?”

he replies with a fervent nod. and it’s his eyes again . . . it’s always those wide eyes shimmering with love and optimism. they make you feel as though you are capable of moving mountains and parting oceans and turning dust into gold. and as long as it’s for jungkook, those might just be true.

“alright. let’s go then.” your boyfriend takes that as the green light to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he excitedly tugs you back to the opposite way.

“walk slowly! i’m scared of slipping!” you whine in panic as you and jungkook leave behind footprints on the snow, temporarily carving the memories of today into stone.

—

taglist! @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @cramseys @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @rkie @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @ameliejeannelaurent @takochelle @the1921-monsters @investedreader @seagulljk @yeow6n @yoonqkiss @hopeworldjimin @lllucere @unnatae @zqynmlk @bxbyyyjocelyn @zkdlllin @koostarcandy @tswisal1 @fragmentof-indifference @laylasbunbunny @jjk-jeongirl @cherishoshi @taexidriver @luaspersona @yn-lifeu + send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

[why4anne]

Daylight

Part: 6/?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Social Media au

Summary: Follow the love story of a global pop icon and a monegasque F1 driver

Face claim: Taylor Swift (Singing) + others

Masterlist

2022

yourusername

liked by gigihadid, nicorosberg and 11 372 931 others

yourusername:

You’re Loosing Me: Out on all platforms at 6PM tonight!

There has been a lot of sleepless nights lately. During one of which I sat down with a glass of wine and wrote this heartfelt song. This is one of the most vulnerable songs I’ve ever written but I’m very proud of it. I hope you guys like it as much as I do.

view comments:

ynfansunite: MISS MAAM IT’S A RANDOM TUESDAY??!!

haveyntickets: I was having a calm morning until you posted this😭

uno_dos_yn: How am I supposed to live through the day knowing this will be dropping tonight???!!!!

ginaschumifan: So… are we going to adress the elephant in the room?

- frenchf1fan: The song? The caption? Nico f*cking Rosberg liking this? You gotta be more specific girl.

- holy_verstappen: NICO ROSBERG LIKED THIS???!!!! Helloooo??? Sir??!!

doverussell: I love how all of the F1 drivers are ignoring her and Nico Rosberg is out here liking her posts💀

- formula_frankie: istg he’s so unserious😭

- slaybastianvettel: He lives for chaos

howtomoveyn: It’s about Charles, I know it!!

- ynxcharlesship: Girl- we all know it😭

- charlesgirlie: I can’t handle it🪦

threeyn: 💀🪦☠️😵: Visual representation of me rn

fromtheyntable: I know it’s bad but if the breakup with Charles gives us more heartbreaking, tear inducing, banging my head against the wall type of songs I’m here for it!

- howtobeyn: She’s still a person, have some respect!

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and 3 182 732 others

charles_leclerc:

ABU22 out at 5PM tonight!

I’ve recently started picking up the piano and had a burst of inspiration after the Abu Dhabi GP and composed this piece. I hope you enjoy it.

View comments:

icemanfan: He’s not even trying to be subtle😭

formula_frankie: ON THE SAME DAY???

unocharlss: SIR?? Is this a good timing??

- goodleclerc: RIGHT!!??

allaboutleclerc: anyways…the weather😃

thinkingyn: I can’t tell if he’s heartbroken or shady

- ghost_leclerc: probably both💀

hateyn: Serves her right after all the songs she’s written about her exes!😤

- charlesfans4ever: gtfo of here

- goldenyn: How does it feel to be unwanted and lonely?

-ynandsharl: Y/N fans 🤝 Charles fans: not tolerating hate!

celebritynews

Liked by 219 377 people

celebritynews:

The 2022 athletes gala have announced that the musical guest for this years gala in early March will be singer Y/N L/N. This would not be anything noteworthy unless for the fact that her ex, Charles Leclerc is confirmed to be in attendance.

What do you think will happen on this eventful evening? We’re certainly eager to find out!

View comments:

formulayn:what. the. fuck.😭

leclercthigs: So we’re going to see mom and dad in the same room for the first time since the split?😃

greatnessln: She will 100% be performing the pettiest songs in existence💀

- ynchildrenshome: I bet she’ll perform you’re loosing me!😖

superyn: Guys! Please do a wellness check on all of your friends who are Y/N and/or Charles fans. We’re very fragile rn😭💀

Tag-list: @mindflay3r @karmabyfernando @lightdragonrayne @ilove-tswizzle @sadg3

[natashawritesstuff]

I hope your request are open so if u don't mind this one I was hoping to get like haikyuu boys(kageyama,oikawa,atsumu & kenma(maybe))with reader going to the doctors going to see a ultrasound of the babys?if you don't mind i love reading your stuff!have a good day!

pregnant reader x setters

cw: pregnancy stuff, vomit

2 weeks w/ Oikawa 

Oikawa holds your hair back as you throw up in the bathroom toilet. As you wipe your mouth with the napkin he had gotten for you he jokes, “so you don’t like the new recipe?”

You pant, “no, I don’t.’’

Later in the day as the two of you are cuddling on the couch you sit up quickly clutching your stomach and Oikawa looks at you concerned. 

“Baby, are you okay? Should we go to the doctor?”

“No, no, just period cramps probably.”

He paused, “speaking of when was the last time you had it?”

“What? It was….oh shit.”

***

“Congratulations,” the nurse says nervously, reading the room and seeing how you both didn’t seem to be in a celebratory mood. “I’ll give you a minute.” He excuses himself and then closes the door behind him. 

“Parents, huh?” Oikawa says and you can only nod.

“Parents,” you confirm.

“Think we’re ready?”

“Hell no, but…we’ll work it out.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, walking over to the image of your child, “we will be.”

12 weeks w/ Kageyama

“Water?” he asked. 

“Check,” you confirm. 

“Snack for the car?”

“Check,” you sing, holding up a granola bar. 

“Phone?”

“When do I ever forget my phone?” you wager and he clicks his tongue. 

“Right, you do have a problem,” he mutters. 

“Rude.”

“What’s rude is being late, so let’s get going,” he tells you, lacing your fingers together as he nearly drags you out of the apartment.

Ever since finding out you were pregnant, Kageyama, being Kageyama, has been so particular about everything it nearly causes a headache. The moment you wake up, he’s there with water and morning prenatal vitamins, and breakfast is already ready- in fact, everything you eat is already meal-prepped for you, by him, days in advance. He has notes of your favorite foods in his phone back from when you two were dating and used them to predict your cravings. Everything is taken care of and nothing is unexpected. He is seemingly prepared for anything involving the baby.

When you arrive at the office, you can see a hint of a smile fighting to form on his lips. Today is the 12-week ultrasound- aka-

“D-day,” he says, as he helps you out of the car- not that you needed it. 

Today is the day it is confirmed that you two are having a boy. Not to be confused with the day you find out, because Kageyama already knows. He says it’s a ‘dad gut feeling’ something you wouldn’t understand. He’s already ready to fill the nursery with posters of his old volleyball teams for ‘inspiration’ and has his jersey number on a onesie coming in the mail next Tuesday. Kageyama was prepared for anything. 

“And it’s a girl,” the nurse says with a smile and you feel your heart skip a beat before you look back at your husband who stared at the sonogram unblinking. 

“Really?” you ask for the two of you.

“Yes, congratulations.”

The car ride was silent, dinner was silent, everything for the next 4 hours was silent, and you were sure you broke him. It’s not until your moments before turning out the lights does he finally speak. 

“We’re having a girl,” he whispers, voice hoarse from lack of use. 

You turn your head and nod, agreeing, “yeah, baby, we’re having a girl.”

He smiles at you, and a single tear falls as he confessed, “I wasn’t prepared for that.”

His smile turns wobbly and you pull him in for a hug as he sniffles against your shirt. 

“Can we name her Tobia-”

“Baby that’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking-”

“Oh no, you have to be,” you tell him and he chuckles. 

15 weeks w/ Atsumu

You don’t learn how much of a weirdo Atsumu is until you are pregnant. You should have known something was up when he’s giggling when he serves you dinner one night and the moment you take a bite he tells you, “ya  know yer eating our child.”

You nearly spit the food out as you stare at him shocked. 

“What the hell?”

“Did I word that wrong? Our baby’s the size of a sesame seed,” he explains then gestures to your food, confused why you stopped eating. 

This continues on, for 4 weeks it was sesame, 5 poppy seeds, 6 lentils,  and so on and so on. By fifteen weeks little Miya is an apple and he’s grinning all the way through the beginning of the appointment as she spreads the gel on your stomach, which is now finally starting to show a bump.

“There’s baby,” the sonogram specialist says and Atsumu’s eyes grow wide. 

He’s speechless for a moment staring at the sonogram before he whispers, “the little apple has my nose.

“Yeah, I guess he does,” you agree before you confess, “I hope he’s just like you,” but it’s too quiet for him to hear as he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the baby, already the apple of his eye; your little apple.

40 weeks w/ Kenma

“Hey guys,” Kenma greeted his chat as he logged onto his stream. 

Comments started flooding in and he squinted trying to read them, finally catching one, he replies, “no Y/N hasn’t given birth yet.”

“Wish I did,” you call out from the couch in the back of his room and even more comments flood in. 

Once nearly everyone in the chat is asking questions about you, Kenma sighs, sitting back realizing he’s not going to get to the game and accepts it.

How’s Y/N doing?

whens the due date

congratulations

is the nursery done?

boy or girl???

baby kenma loading!!

“Y/N’s fine, the due date passed, thank you, yes the nursery is done, baby girl,” he answers rapidly. 

Then squints again trying to catch a particular question, “I actually wanted to address this. No, you won’t be seeing baby Kenma until she understands what the internet is and can consent to being on it. I also want to keep that portion of my life private.”

how is he already such a good dad

we understand!!

will you teach her how to game off screen

Understandable, still wish we could see her though :/

Kenma leads the last comment and quickly mutes his mic and turns back to you, asking a question the chat can’t hear. After a few minutes, he unmutes and takes the framed photograph of the latest sonogram. 

“There’s baby Y/N,” he introduces your daughter to the world before he quickly takes the picture out of frame. 

Awww!

so cute 

make sure she gets some rest!!

we love you Y/N!!

baby y/n >>>>>>> baby kenma 

Kenma lightly confessing, “yeah, yeah, I like Y/N better than me too.”

hope you like it!

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[oddinary4bts]

The Forgotten Spaces | ch 8 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in previous/later chapters)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: laura is purposefully mean, oc sprains her wrist, oc's mother is a bitch, lots of angst, some sort of miscommunication between oc and jungkook (what's new) (nothing bad this time I promise), probably some curse words as per usual

☆word count: 12.6k

☆series masterpost here

☆a/n: Some more angst, but a silver lining in the end I promise. Thank you to @moonleeai for her beta reading on this fic, I won't ever thank you enough, you're the best <3

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, September 22nd

                You’re tired. Tired and anxious, especially as nationals are coming in two weeks. Two weeks. It’s unbelievable – it feels like the auditions were yesterday. And you don’t feel ready at all with the choreographies. You’ve mastered them a while ago, yes, but you’ve mastered them alone. Now, you have to practice with the rest of the crew, no matter how much you’ve been trying to avoid Jungkook.

But also, you’re tired and anxious because your mother has been on your back. Indeed, she believes you’ve been investing too much time in the crew, and that you’ve been neglecting your studies. You haven’t, of course, but your mother can’t accept the fact that you are juggling both dance and law. At least that’s what it feels like to you, so whenever she scolds you you just let her talk, tuning her out until she leaves you alone.

Today is no different. You haven’t really been listening to what she’s saying, but all that you know is that she is making you late for dance practice.

“Like, you think dancing will ever bring you any good?” she’s saying. “The type of dance you dance is not something you’ll make a living out of, and I can’t believe you haven’t understood that yet.”

You sigh, and you focus on her where she’s standing in the doorway of your room. “That’s kind of funny coming from you, a professional ballerina.”

Red splotches dot her cheeks. “Ballet is a far more lucrative discipline than whatever you call dance, Y/n. But of course you wouldn’t know.”

You can’t resist but roll your eyes. “Listen mom, I know you don’t like the crew. But I’m an adult and you can’t do anything about it. I have practice now, because we have nationals in two weeks, so can you just please let me go?”

“What are you going to do if I stop paying for your college, uh?” she spits. “You’ve been using my money forever. Your crew doesn’t even pay for the studio.”

“If that’s a problem to you, we can pay”, you say, folding your arms on your chest as you cock an eyebrow. “We’ve suggested it plenty of times before, and you keep refusing.” That makes you shake your head a little, and you add, “And we both know dad wanted to pay for my college. You’re the one who refused.”

You might be a little too bold. It is true that your father had once suggested he could pay for your tuition, considering that you are studying to be a lawyer like him. But that was years ago, and you have no idea if the offer still stands.

“He’s not even your father,” your mother chooses to say, as if you don’t already know.

It just makes you shrug your shoulders. “He’s been more of a father to me these last few weeks than you have been a mother. At least he supports me and my interests.”

She’s insulted. It’s clear as spring water. Brows so furrowed over her eyes that they’re almost touching, fists clenched so hard you can see white on her knuckles. “I…”

But she has nothing else to say. She knows just as well as you do that what you said is true. Your father, even if he isn’t your biological father, has always supported your dance passion. He never once questioned it, never once made you feel lesser because the type of dance you chose isn’t as “elegant” or “classy” as ballet. He also supported you when you decided to join the crew, even if your mother was fully against it.

“As I said, we’re adults, and I have engagements with the crew,” you continue. “So I’m going to go now, and if you want to talk like adults about me paying you for tuition or for the studio, we can do that another time. Alright?”

It’s insolent, the way you say it, but you know nothing else works with your mother. Sometimes, you feel like you’re the more mature one out of the two of you.

Scratch that – you are the more mature one out of the two of you.

Surprisingly, your mother lets you go for now. You expect that she will be on your back again soon enough, but at least you will be able to get to practice without being too late. And you walk quickly to compensate, so much so that you end up arriving before Jungkook and Heather, and you start stretching next to Jiho.

“Hey loser,” Jiho greets you, and you reckon the moment you see her, the annoyance your mother caused you goes down the drain.

Your relationship with her has been sailing smoothly now that you have decided to cut Jungkook out of your life. Now that you’ve actually taken steps to remove him from your heart too, which you’ll be forever thankful for. Maybe Jisung helped a little too, making Jiho realize that pushing her happy relationship in your face was the wrong thing to do. She and Hobi have chilled a little now, though you don’t feel about it the way that you did a month ago.

Now you’re just happy whenever you think about how Jiho got lucky. You know more than anyone else that she deserves that luck.

“Hey stupid,” you reply.

“Are you calling my girlfriend stupid?” Hobi asks, faking offense.

“We all know she’s stupid for you,” Scottie points out, and everyone laughs.

You love them. You love the crew with every single beat of your heart. You can’t imagine a life without them – if you had to choose, you’d cut ties with your mother before you’d even consider dropping out of the crew.

Heather joins you next, bright smile on her lips as Bridget files in behind her. You wave to Bridget and she waves in return, before moving to the spot where you’ve brought bean bags in for her.

After all, Bridget has taken a liking to attending dance practice, saying that it helps her to focus on studying. You have no idea how she manages to do that – loud music has always been a big distraction for you – but Bridget does it well. Sitting in a corner on one of the bean bags with her laptop on her knees, typing away as you all dance.

Jungkook doesn’t seem like he’s going to come soon, and Hobi suggests practicing without him. No one argues, and Lance sets up the music as you all take your places on the floor in front of the mirror.

You’ve done the choreography almost three and a half times when Jungkook finally deigns to show up, and you’re ready to throw hands when you realize why he’s late: he’s decided to bring Laura to practice.

Mind you, you’ve been good at moving on lately, or maybe you’ve just been good at pretending you’ve moved on. But seeing her in a space that she doesn’t belong in, in a scene that never should have been tainted with her presence makes your heart hammer in your chest, eyes going wide.

Jiho has the exact same reaction, mouth hanging open as she looks at Laura walking in. Laura has the decency to look shy a little as everyone just stares at her, and it’s with cheeks flushing red that she raises a bag she’s holding.

You only then notice that Jungkook is holding a bag too.

“We brought boba for everyone,” Laura sheepishly says, entirely avoiding the side of the room where you, Jiho and Lance are standing.

You exchange a look with your best friend, features slightly turning into a frown just long enough for her to notice. To outside eyes, nothing happened, and you’re back to looking at Laura a second later.

Though what you notice then is not her. It’s Jungkook. Jungkook is looking at you, as if he’s gauging your reaction. You meet his eyes, and you hope your emotions don’t show on your face.

Because quite frankly, the hammering of your heart aches, and you wish you could disappear.

Lance is the first one to break the silence that followed Laura’s words. And then everyone follows suit, moving closer to grab their own drink. All you can do is stay rooted in your spot, and you keep looking at Jungkook. He keeps looking at you too, and it feels like the moment has frozen for the two of you. It’s strange, as you have been avoiding him, but it does feel like the connection is still there.

You think it probably will always be there. You’ve just been better at accepting its existence doesn’t mean you and Jungkook were meant to be together anyway.

You stare at each other until Hobi nudges Jungkook, who blinks as if he’s been brought out of a trance. He shakes his head a little, gaze sliding to Hobi, and then he’s opening the bag he’s holding to hand the drinks he has.

You just stay there, teeth digging in the inside of your lips as you notice Laura has seen. She’s seen you and Jungkook looking at each other, and she’s frowning. When your eyes meet, it’s only for her to glare at you.

You wish you could tell her that he’s hers anyway, that she doesn’t have to hate you, but you’d never be able to step on your pride like that. So with your head held high you walk towards where they are. It feels decisive, like something is about to change – maybe the universe is about to shift back into position, after having spun off its axis since that night under the stars.

You think Jungkook senses you approaching, because he doesn’t even look at you when he tells Laura, “Babe, do you have the banana milk bobas?”

Her features turn solid, harsh. “I have yours, yes.”

You watch Jungkook. He’s furrowing his brows as if he doesn’t understand. “You don’t have Y/n’s?”

To hear him say your name makes your heart stop in your chest, and you reckon it hurts just as much as the hammering.

“I only got one banana milk.”

Jungkook’s gaze slides to you then. The room fills with tension, and you just cock an eyebrow as you hold his gaze. As if to say ‘she’s the one you chose as your girlfriend?’

“I asked you to get one for Y/n too.”

Laura just shrugs, and she fakes innocence. “Sorry, I forgot.”

It doesn’t really matter. It’s just a boba anyway, and you don’t usually drink anything while you practice, so you don’t upset your stomach. But the way Jungkook’s features fall, turning apologetic, makes you clench your fists until you feel the sting of your nails digging in your palms.

But you decide to be the bigger person, because you can’t really stay in front of them any longer. “No worries,” you let out, and you spin on your heels, moving away.

Jiho catches your gaze, and she looks livid. Way more than you are, because you reckon this little interaction almost made you faint.

“Wait, Y/n,” Jungkook says.

Now, you’re pretty sure you’re stepping on shards of glass as you turn back around. “Uh?”

“Take mine,” he suggests, and he even digs in Laura’s bag to hand it to you.

You shake your head. “Nah, it’s fine.”

He doesn’t insist, and Laura doesn’t say anything else either. But you see the way everyone is looking at each other: disapprovingly, and you think Lance and Jiho are about to say something. You shrug your shoulders to tell them that it really is fine, but it’s a lie to yourself.

The fact Laura purposefully didn’t get a boba for you does upset you. It’s childish of her, and maybe it’s childish of you to get upset over it too. But you’re human, and you aren’t flawless.

Lately you’ve been thinking you’re more flaws than qualities anyway. And you don’t think it’s your fault that your mind fills with the night sky and cataclysms again. You’re allowed to feel, you’re allowed to break.

You avoid Jungkook’s gaze after that. You try to ignore Laura too, but she has a smug look on her face. She knows what she did, and she’s happy about it. You didn’t think Jungkook would be able to like someone like that.

But he never really did like you anyway, did he?

You made progress over the few last weeks. You really did. You’ve barely been thinking about Jungkook now, but something about standing in a room where she is too… It’s unraveling your progress. You feel like you’re back on square one, back to the day he told you about her.

Right in this room, actually. And maybe you’re not on square one, maybe it was bound to end in that same place.

Dancing isn’t easy, under her watchful gaze. Under the smugness on her features. Under the remorse on Jungkook’s own features. He looks like he wants to apologize, like he wants to talk to you maybe.

But that boat sailed a long time ago, and you’re not going to speak to Jungkook alone outside of choreography talk anymore.

Bridget doesn’t seem too happy when Laura decides to sit next to her. She throws you a look, eyes going to the ceiling before they settle back on you.

It’s then that you realize just how much you really do love the crew, and the other friends you’ve made over the last few months. All of them… They’re your family. Who cares about a broken heart when you have a family like that?

Jungkook is kinder tonight, as he makes you practice. Well, he starts that way, until he seems to relax and forget that Laura is here, and that she was a bitch to you. Then he returns to his usual iron will, and he hammers the choreography into each of you, as if you don’t already know it.

But something about the way Laura’s been looking at you this whole time is starting to make you lose your cool. You feel anxious, though you reckon you really have been feeling anxious for days now. About nationals, about your mom, and of course about Laura and Jungkook.

Jungkook stops the music for the thousandth time. “Heather, try doing this instead,” he says as he shows the move he’s talking about. He’s still moving mechanically, but everyone has stopped noticing it now. “I think it’ll work better.”

She nods, and Jungkook starts the song again.

You’re not one to trip. You’ve never tripped on your feet, have always been agile. But for some reason your feet tangle during one of the steps, the one Jungkook changed for Heather, and all you know is that you’re down before you even had time to blink.

It hurts. Something hurts, and you don’t know if it’s the embarrassment or your body. You only know that tears are pricking at your eyes.

It only doubles up when your gaze meets Jungkook’s doe eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks.

He’s kneeling next to you, and you didn’t even notice him moving. Hands gently holding your shoulders as you try to push yourself up.

Pain shoots up your left arm, and you would have collapsed had he not been holding you.

“Fuck.”

“You’re hurt,” he says rhetorically, and he helps you as you sit up.

You feel everyone’s eyes on you. They look shocked, but what you really do notice are Laura’s eyes. She’s livid where she’s sitting, and you almost want to scream at her that this is her fault. That Jungkook wouldn’t be touching you if she wasn’t here tonight.

“I don’t know,” you reply, and your gaze moves back to Jungkook.

He looks concerned, infinitely so. He’s a little pale, and his big eyes scan your features a few times before dropping to your left arm. Your wrist has already started to swell, and you both look at it for a time.

“Do you think it’s broken?” he asks with a small voice.

You don’t know. You don’t know shit. All you know is that your heart is breaking again, always, and the tears you’re blinking back aren’t because of the pain anymore.

Aren’t because of the physical pain, in fact.

“Can you please stop touching me?” you ask.

He’s not looking you in the eyes, but you feel how he stiffens next to you. How his shoulders tense up, how his jaw clenches. His hands drop on his thighs, and then they turn to fists.

“Sorry. I just…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Maybe because he’s realized everyone saw him run to your side the moment you hurt yourself.

You know then that he does care. That whatever led him to choose Laura over you wasn’t because he didn’t care about you. Or maybe he only cares because you’re part of the crew, and you getting injured puts you all at risk of failing nationals.

Needless to say, you favour the former possibility.

“Do you need me to call an ambulance?” Jiho asks as she moves closer.

Jungkook doesn’t move, and neither do you. You just glance at her. “I think it’s just sprained.”

“You better get it checked out before nationals,” Hobi points out. “Just to be sure.”

You nod. He’s right, and the pain turns into anger. The blinding kind of anger. Because if this messes up your performance at nationals, you’re pretty positive you’ll murder Jungkook.

For choosing her, for bringing her tonight, for caring when he should be pretending he doesn’t care.

But he was there under the stars, wasn’t he?

“Okay,” you agree. “But no need to call an ambulance, I can just grab a Lyft.”

There’s no chance in hell you’re risking an ambulance bill when your mother has been pestering you about money earlier this evening. You have pretty good insurance, you really do, but you’re not going to risk having a higher bill than needed.

“I’ll go with you,” Jiho declares.

No one else says anything, because she’s obviously the only one that should be going with you, and a moment later you’re leaving.

You can’t help looking over your shoulder as you go. Jungkook is watching you leave, and you think you see him blinking back tears too. You might have imagined it though, and you’re gone before you can make sure.

Maybe he hasn’t forgotten. Maybe he still remembers how it felt, maybe he’s finally realizing the implication of his decisions.

You reckon you shouldn’t even be thinking about that. So you cling to the progress you made, and you pretend you’re not blinking back tears during the Lyft ride. Jiho holds your hand, the uninjured one, and she pretends she doesn’t see the tears either.

Sunday, September 23rd

                Laura has been crying for twenty minutes now. Jungkook thinks she should have seen it coming: after getting angry at him about you last night, she made his decision pretty easy.

He knew he was going to break up with her the moment she started insulting you to his face. And she knows what happened between you and him; he told her everything, not wanting to build a relationship over a lie.

Maybe that’s why she’s been crying so much. Sobbing, face flushed red as snot pours from her nose. She’s told him he’s an asshole and a liar at the beginning, but it hasn’t affected him like he thought it would.

No, he never lied to her. He only lied to himself, so much so that he refused to even acknowledge how he feels about you. But seeing you getting hurt yesterday – both by Laura and because of your wrist… It brought him right back to the night he chose her over you, and it made him sick to his stomach.

They are in Jungkook’s room. Laura is sitting on his bed, and he’s sitting in front of his gaming PC. His chair is turned away from the monitor, but the sound is on speaker, so he hears it when he receives a discord notification.

He looks over his shoulder to see that Taehyung wrote something, but Laura lets out a broken sound that grabs his attention again.

“I just…” she says as she sniffs and he turns back to look at her. “You fucking used me.”

He plays with his piercing for a few seconds. He does feel bad. He’s not immune to someone he cares about being hurt. And for all that she thinks, Jungkook does care about her. Platonically, that is. Because she is comfortable, she is like the sun in his life.

She was like the sun in his life.

Because he misses his night sky too much. He’s not stupid though: he can’t be with you either. He doesn’t want to do that to you. To run back to you with his tail between his legs begging for forgiveness. He just doesn’t want to string someone along when his heart is not into it.

“I didn’t,” he says, and it’s not the first time he’s told her that in the last twenty minutes. “I really wanted to be with you, but after the disrespect you pulled yesterday, I just don’t want that anymore.”

“You say that as if she doesn’t deserve it!” Laura exclaims. “She broke your heart.”

He shrugs. “We broke each other’s hearts.”

He knows it now. And he knows he’s mostly responsible for it. Because he was too proud, too immature to fully face whatever it was that was blossoming between you and him when you clearly were ready to commit.

Laura stays for a while longer. Crying, screaming at him, and Jungkook just does his best to remain impassive. It hurts him, it does, and in other circumstances he’s pretty sure he would have cried. He’s a sympathetic crier, and seeing Laura cry should be enough to make him cry, but somehow it isn’t. Somehow his gaze remains dry during the whole ordeal, even as he thinks of all the good moments he shared with her.

But it’s been just a little under three months, of them seeing each other. He’s known you for years now. The impact she has on him is just not the same as you, and he reckons he’s not an asshole enough to cry about you in front of her.

He’ll allow his heart to break for you later.

When Laura leaves, Jungkook walks her to the door. He even orders the Lyft for her, and when she begs him to not break up, he tells her he is glad he got to know her. At that she bristles, punches him in the chest and then she turns around to leave, without once looking over her shoulder.

His heart does ache for her then, and he reckons he does shed a tear about it. He wipes it quickly though, and when he turns around to head back upstairs, passing through the living room to reach the stairs, he’s met with a stunned Yoongi.

He doesn’t know how long Yoongi has been standing there, only that his older friend sports wide eyes.

“What happened?” Yoongi asks.

Jungkook sighs, shaking his head slightly. “I broke up with Laura.”

Jin pops his head out of the kitchen. “You did what?”

Valeria appears behind him, a sad smile on her lips. “I’m so sorry, JK.”

He’s stunned for a few seconds. Valeria does look concerned for him, but Jin has started smiling and Yoongi just looks confused.

“Don’t be,” Jungkook reassures Valeria, offering her a small, sad smile. “It is the right thing to do.”

Jin fully comes out of the kitchen, crossing his arms on his chest. “And why is it the right thing to do?”

Jungkook’s brow creases as he holds Jin’s gaze. “Uh?”

“Is there a certain someone that’s caused this… sudden decision?”

Yoongi seems like he’s just put two and two together. “Did something happen with Y/n?”

“Y/n?” Valeria lets out. She appears to be the one that is confused now. “The girl from the cottage?”

Jin grabs her elbow, slightly shaking his head at her as if to tell her not to talk, before turning his shit-eating grin back on Jungkook. “Good for you, bro.”

“Uh?” is all Jungkook can produce again before Jo and Taehyung appear too.

It’s the strangest thing. All his friends flocking in as if they sensed something important happened in his life. As if they sensed he might need them, or as if they too have sensed the shifting of the universe.

It has shifted right back into place, hasn’t it?

“Damn, what are you all doing here?” Taehyung asks as he passes by Jungkook, heading towards the kitchen. Jo is following him, and she and Valeria greet each other.

“Jungkook broke up with Laura,” Jin provides in a sing-song voice.

He’ll murder him. Jungkook will kill Jin in the most agonising way he can think of.

Taehyung stops in his tracks, and Jo bumps into him. She’s the one that turns with eyes big as saucers.

“What the fuck?”

It leads to a very strange conversation. They all sit in the kitchen, and since it’s still early afternoon Jin decides to make mimosa for everyone. Though the atmosphere feels heavy to Jungkook, somehow, it doesn’t linger too long as he speaks with his friends. As they speak to him too, and the conversation doesn’t linger on Laura for long either.

As if she didn’t even matter anyway. And maybe she didn’t. Maybe it’s always been about you anyway.

He knows it’s true now. But he’s too late, and he knows that too. He won’t ask anything of you again. Though he’s learned his lesson, and he won’t let his pride affect him anymore. It was a good defense mechanism for a time, albeit a dysfunctional one.

He’d rather leave it in the past.

Hobi and Jiho arrive as Yoongi leaves, and Jin is once again the one to break the news to the new arrivals. The glare Jiho has been reserving for him for weeks melts as her gaze matches the one Jo offered him earlier.

He reckons he’s getting tired of it, so he says, “It’s nothing, can you please all stop?”

He’s angry. He really does sound angry too, frustrated, embarrassed and annoyed. It works, but it creates an uncomfortable silence that he decides to flee this time around. He gets up from the table, tells them that he has to go, and he moves up to his room.

He decides to clean it then. To wash away every little lingering piece of Laura, and then he sits at his PC and games. He games for a while, until guilt catches up to him about not doing schoolwork today, and then he turns off his game to work on editing the pictures he’s starting to choose for the final project he’s already been working on since the beginning of the semester.

Pictures he took through the last few months appear on his monitor. They’re a collection of moments and emotions, and each picture tells its own story. He stills on the page for a time, watching the pictures without blinking, before he decides to add one to the others.

It feels like it deserves the centermost spot, and he doesn’t even hesitate as he reorders the pictures.

It’s late in the evening when his phone buzzes next to him. He hasn’t looked at it since he’s come up, and the text brought him back to reality,  quite at the same time his stomach growls to remind him he hasn’t eaten all that much today.

He pushes his hair back, before grabbing the phone. He tilts his head to the side in surprise as he sees Jiho’s the one that texted him.

[8:37 pm] Jiho: hey, i told everyone to let you tell y/n urself. plz don’t be an asshole again🙄

It does put weight on his shoulders, but he knows Jiho is right. He’s about to tell her so when he receives another message from her.

[8:38 pm] Jiho: but u better talk to her soon bc she’ll find out herself if u don’t. she’ll be at the studio tmrw night

Now he feels as if someone is crushing his heart in his chest. Anxiety floods his blood, and he wonders, is that how you felt that night before he told you about Laura?

He reckons he deserves the anxiety, but you also deserve him telling you. So he tells Jiho he’ll be there, before turning off his phone and resting it face down on the desk.

He keeps working on his project until late that night. Until the night sky glitters up above as he looks out his window, reminding him that some things are forever.

Monday, September 24th

                You think it’s early in the year for the weather to be so cold. Like the summer came and went in the blink of an eye, and it really does feel like it.

The summer warmth really feels like a distant memory as the cold fingers of the fall wind grabs at your hair, blowing it all around your head. It’s unusual for it to be so cold today, and from your weather app you know that it’s not going to last. It’s already supposed to start warming up in the next few days, but today it really feels as if you’ve time traveled to the autumn days that are looming over the horizon.

It starts raining a little before you get home, and you reckon you should have grabbed a Lyft to go back home. But you wanted to walk, and now you have to suck it up and live with the consequences of your choice.

Your wrist still aches a little, and the cold makes it feel worse, as if someone’s digging their fingers in your skin, right where it already hurts. You glare at it, as if it’s going to change anything. It’s not broken. Just sprained, and the doctor said you should be okay to dance at the competition, as long as you don’t go crazy with the hands motion.

Hence why you’ll be heading to the studio later tonight: you need to figure out how to adjust the choreography so you don’t hurt yourself more.

You sigh, though your house finally comes into sight. It’s a relief, it really is, until you see that your mother is home. You haven’t spoken yet since Saturday. She doesn’t even know you’ve hurt yourself, and you don’t see why she would need to know.

She’d probably just scold you because that’s the only thing she knows how to do.

You walk up to your house, wincing as a particularly strong gust of wind almost makes you lose footing. Luckily enough, you remain steady, and a few seconds later you finally reach the door.

You open it and step in, shutting it softly behind you hoping your mother won’t hear you.

Only, she’s sitting at the foot of the staircase that’s almost right in front of the door, just outside the hall, and a duffel bag lies on the ground next to her. It’s yours, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you take off your Airpods.

“What are you doing?” you ask her as you remove the platform boots you wore to college today. It’s hard to unzip them with just one hand, but you manage to succeed after a few tries.

Your mother just remains silent. Confusion moves through you even more, and you’re getting out of the hall when her eyes fall on the brace around your wrist.

“What happened?” she asks. The way she says it is curt, as if she’s asking just because she has to, and not because she’s concerned.

You know damn well she’s not concerned. And it’s not like you will tell her about Jungkook, Laura and the whole thing that led to you spraining your wrist. So you just shrug and say, “Nothing really, just a sprain.”

She nods at this, and then she kicks at the duffel bag next to her. “It’s going to make this hard to carry.”

“Why would I carry this?”

You’re stupid sometimes. Book smart, street stupid. Because it’s obvious. To outside eyes, what is going to happen is completely obvious. But you just stand there, watching her with an eyebrow cocked quizzically.

“Because you don’t get to live here anymore.”

You laugh. You genuinely start laughing, shaking your head. “Okay mom, of course.”

You walk around the duffel bag and her, and you’re halfway up the stairs when she speaks again. “I’m serious, Y/n. I’ve had enough of you living under my roof. I don’t have to be taking care of you anymore, not at your age.”

You freeze, before slowly turning to look at her. “What?”

“You can try living on campus or getting an apartment, I really don’t care. I’m giving you a month to be out. You can keep the furniture that’s in your room.”

She’s still sitting with her back turned to you, because you know she’s too much of a coward to tell you while looking you in the eyes.

“What the fuck?”

“You can keep practicing at the studio. And no, you don’t have to pay for it. And I’ll pay for your college until the end. I just don’t want you living under my roof anymore.”

You’re stunned for so long you think you’ve been turned into a statue. You don’t know what to say, and your brain can’t really process what she’s saying. “And you expect me to go right now?”

She nods, finally glancing at you over her shoulder. “Yes. I prepared a bag that should have everything you need.”

You scoff, and you start feeling like you’re going to be sick. Like someone pulled a rug under your feet, and you’re crashing to the ground.

“Are you fucking serious?”

She nods again, slowly getting up. “Yes, Y/n. Go live with your father for all I care.”

“He’s in California!” you burst. “College is a twenty minute walk from here.”

“You can find some housing that’s near college,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s not my business anymore.”

“By tonight?”

You’re seeing red. No, in fact, you’re way past the red, everything turning fully white as fury grabs you into its hold, blinding you.

“Yes.” There’s a silence, and then she adds, “I’m sure you could stay with the Hans. Or some other friends.”

You don’t remember the rest of the fight. You remember screaming, and you remember her screaming back. You remember going up to your room to make sure you really had what you needed, packing an extra bag yourself as she screams at you from the door to your room. Telling you how much she hates you and hates that you’re the reason why the love of her life left.

As if she’s not the one who cheated on him. And when you tell her so, she strides in your room and slaps you straight across the cheek. She’s wearing rings, and you feel your skin sting where one of the rings cut through your cheek.

A glance in the mirror confirms that you are already bleeding.

Then all you remember is walking to the studio. Carrying the bags, not even feeling their weight. You can barely even feel the ache in your wrist. You hide in the room you usually take for refuge, and it strikes you then that it might be your actual last refuge.

Because you don’t have a house anymore.

You want to call your father, you want to call Jiho, you want to scream and throw up and rage at the world. But all you can do is sit with your back against the mirror.

Jiho is supposed to come later anyway. You just need to wait for her.

You watch the sun lowering on the horizon, light moving on the floor as it slowly sets, a long time after you’ve gotten to the studio. You feel as if you don’t move, then maybe none of this will be real, that maybe you’re going to wake up from a really bad nightmare.

Your mother is a bad mother, she is, but she’s not a monster.

Your eyes slide to the bags. They’re in the semi-obscurity next to the door, because you haven’t turned the lights on. But they’re still there, and it’s proof that it really did happen.

That your mother is really the monster you prayed she’d never be.

Tears come to you then. Welling up in your eyes, stabbing into your heart, and you pull your knees to your chest, resting your head on them as you wrap your arms around them. As if holding yourself will stop you from breaking.

You reckon you’re already fragile. You’ve barely glued the pieces of your heart back together after Jungkook, so maybe you break a little harder.

Maybe the tears and the pain are tenfold what they would have been otherwise. Because you’re in pain. It physically hurts a lot more than Jungkook did. Because a mother is supposed to protect you, to love you unconditionally.

The last time you think your mom loved you was when you were eight and practicing ballet. Long before you gave up on it to focus on dance styles that felt more natural to you, with upbeat music that you could get lost in easier.

You remember the last day she told you. You won a competition, and when you got off the stage she gave you flowers and told you she loved you. She brought you to get ice cream after, and you stained your outfit as you ate. She yelled at you then, told you that you had to be better.

You never were good enough. You’d never be good enough to live up to her expectations, and you accepted that a while ago. But you never thought, never could imagine that she’d choose to kick you out.

Because that’s what happened. You’ve been kicked out of your house, kicked out of the home you grew up in. Kicked out of the memories of laughter and dancing around the kitchen with your father. Of Christmas wrapping paper and twinkling lights, of crying at the dinner table because you didn’t understand a math concept and your father sucked at trying to help.

You’ve been kicked out of the house where you and Jiho played Wii in the basement when you were younger, kicked out of the house that your father left from.

You’re spiraling. You know you are, and your breathing is turning erratic as panic wells up in your chest. What are you even supposed to do?

A soft knock at the door startles you. You don’t even remember shutting it behind you. All you know is that the sun is fully set when your brain focuses back on the present, and dusk has made the studio dark in shades of grey that match the bleak colour of your feelings.

You look at the door, but it’s lacking a window for you to see who’s on the other side. You assume it must be Jiho, and you really feel like crying in her arms for a time. So you get up on wobbly feet, making your way to the door, seeking your best friend’s comfort.

You almost let out a terrified scream when you open the door and Jeon Jungkook is standing on the other side, a halo of light surrounding him and blinding you coincidentally.

You blink a few times, as if it’s going to make him disappear, but you still see him once you hold your eyelids still.

He’s in front of you, wearing an oversized grey crewneck over a black t-shirt. He’s holding bubble teas, and glasses you’ve never seen him wear before sit on his nose. His hair is a mess around his head from the wind outside, and his eyes surveys you as you just stand there.

But he has no business being here right now, when you’re breaking. It just breaks harder, and he looks utterly terrified as tears well up in your eyes again, so much so that they start rolling on your cheeks.

He says your name, so softly you don’t really hear him. He says your name as if you’re made of glass, and maybe you are. Maybe you are and all that you know how to do is break and break and break.

Your face falls in your hands, and you cry, you sob, and it takes Jungkook a few hesitant seconds before he steps closer to you and wraps an arm loosely around you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with a small voice.

You grab his shirt with your uninjured hand and press your forehead against him. He’s warm, and it hurts even more.

But you don’t have anything left in you that can break. Your mother made sure of that, he made sure of that all those months ago. All that’s left is an ocean of sorrow, and you fear you’ve just seen the surface.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” he asks again.

You say something through your tears, but you reckon it was inaudible. So you steel yourself, before asking, “Why are you here?”

He pulls you in, closes the door behind him. You fall in darkness again. “Why is it so dark?”

“Hold on,” you say though you’re still crying. You let go of his shirt before moving to the light switch. You keep your back turned to him as the neon lights flicker to life around you.

“Y/n, what’s happening?” he enquires once more.

You hate him. You hate him so much you want to turn around and move back to the comfort of his arms. Because then you can focus on the pain he causes, on the lava he pours into your blood. You’ve already gotten used to it, and it’s easier to handle that than whatever your mother did to you.

“My mother kicked me out,” you reply, using the sleeve of your shirt to dry your cheeks.

You’re surprised when no new tears meet those that have already cascaded down your face.

“What?”

You chuckle, ever so bitterly. “You heard me right.”

He’s silent for so long you turn around. And he looks so sad it only makes you break again, and fresh silver lines your gaze. Especially as his eyes fall to the cut on your cheek, that you at least managed to clean when you got to the studio. All you can do is hope he won’t mention it.

“What are you doing here anyway?” you ask as you blink the tears away.

“Jiho told me to come.”

So he’s not going to mention it, but you’re going to kill Jiho. You’re pretty positive you’re going to eviscerate her the next time you see her. It’s an emotion other than the sorrow, and you cling to it as best as you can, because right now it feels like preservation.

“I don’t need your help,” you say, folding your arms on your chest.

It makes your sprained wrist hurt, and you let your arms fall at your side almost immediately.

Jungkook just nods, and he pulls at his piercing, like you’ve seen him do a thousand times before. He glances at your bags next to the door, and then holds up one of the bobas.

“Do you want a bubble tea?”

It brings you back to Saturday, and goddamn him you’re crying again. “No.”

He takes a step towards you, then seems to realize he isn’t the one that should be comforting you. Not with Laura in the picture.

“I got your favourite.”

You know he did. You know Jungkook would always get your favourite bubble tea, because that’s just the person that he is. As much as he breaks, Jungkook cares too.

You inhale sharply, trying to keep the tears from rolling down your cheeks. “Why?”

He seems like he wants to talk, to say something, but he remains silent. He just holds the bubble tea out between the two of you, and you watch it as if it’s going to blow before you finally walk towards him.

You grab it with shaky hands, before taking a long swig.

“Better?”

You don’t know how drinking bubble tea will make you feel better about getting kicked out, so you just remain silent. Jungkook figures you don’t want to say anything, and he just stands there, looking away from you as if to give you privacy.

For a few seconds, all you can picture is how he cared last Saturday.

“I sprained my wrist,” you tell him. And then you bristle at your sight as you look in the mirror on the wall.

Your face is flushed red, eyes bloodshot and nose putting Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer to shame. You look positively horrible, hair ruffled and all out of place.

“Yeah,” he replies flatly. He then worries at his piercing some more, and you turn your gaze away from the mirror. “Are you going to be okay for nationals?”

You realize the next time you might be in a bedroom is at the hotel for nationals, and you’re back to crying. “I don’t know,” you say, and this time Jungkook really hugs you, pulling you flush against his chest.

You hate that you’re crying in his arms, but he’s warm and solid, and right now it’s all that you need.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” he whispers reassuringly, brushing his hand on your back in a soothing manner. “You’ll figure it out.”

“I have nowhere to stay tonight,” you admit.

It feels as if he holds you a little tighter. “You can come over to mine. Stay in my room, I can grab the couch.”

It is a stupid idea, and it just makes you cry more. “Why?”

“I care about you,” he says simply.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t care and shouldn’t make you feel safe. But he does. He still makes you feel safe even though he broke your heart. Even though he’s hers.

You think about her. You think of her smug smile Saturday. And maybe it makes you a bitch, maybe it makes you worse than she is, but you say, “Are you sure the boys wouldn’t mind?”

He pulls away so he can look you in the eyes. “Yeah. They love you, they will be happy to help.”

You refuse to mention Laura. Not when you’re in Jungkook’s arms. Instead, you nod once, sniffling a little. And then you glance down at his chest, and at the wet spot you left behind. “Sorry about that.”

He looks down too, before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s okay. Let me grab your bags, I’ll call a Lyft.”

You’ve stepped in a parallel universe, haven’t you? One where Jungkook is allowed to take care of you, one where he felt the way that you felt under the stars that night. And you’re selfish. You’re selfish and you decide to let him do it. To let him care for you.

You’ll find a way to fix things yourself tomorrow. But tonight, tonight you’ll let yourself find comfort in his arms and presence. Then maybe the sun will never rise and tomorrow will never come.

Maybe you’ll be allowed to stay in his arms until eternity takes you in its embrace instead.

*****

                It takes you a lot of courage not to cry in the Lyft. Not to look at Jungkook and sob again. It takes you even more courage to sit on your side, miles away from him, with your bags creating a physical border between the two of you.

You’re weak, and you want him to make you feel weaker still. Until you die and can’t feel anything anymore.

The Lyft driver has some music playing on the radio, and from the corner of your eyes you notice Jungkook bobbing his head to the beat. He’s texted away on his phone for the first part of the drive, and you assume he’s informed the boys that you’re coming over.

You wonder what they think, and then you remind yourself that you don’t care. You really just need a place to stay.

You’re not surprised when you receive a text from Jimin, when you’re just a few streets away from their house. It confirms the fact that Jungkook told them, because as you open your phone, you read,

[9:07 pm] park.jm: hey, if u’d rather stay in my room, u’re welcome to it🤗 i’m not gonna be home tonight

You’ve remained friends with Jimin after the night you kissed. As a matter of fact, you think you’re way closer now, mostly because he’s dropped the flirty persona, and now you’ve started seeing the person that he is underneath.

Which is, a very caring and kind person.

You type back a reply, teeth pulling at the ever-constant dry skin of your bottom lip.

[9:08 pm] You: thank u💛 i’ll figure it out later [9:08 pm] You: if jk’s chill with it, i don’t mind staying in his room tho [9:09 pm] park.jm: sounds good!

You don’t say anything else, and neither does Jimin. That leaves you to focus on the music on the radio again, and on the splatter of the rain on the windshield and side windows. It only takes a few more minutes, and then the car is stopping in front of the house.

Jungkook grabs your bags as he thanks the driver, and he gets out before you do. You hesitate long enough for Jungkook to have walked around the car, and you figure you have nowhere else to go, so why not just do it?

Why not just claim Jungkook’s room as yours for the night?

It’s not a nice feeling. But it’s starting to take room in your heart, replacing the hurt that your mother left behind. You want to hurt someone, just so you can transfer the pain to someone else. You never thought you’d have it in you to feel this way, but it just feels like it’d be a relief.

Give someone else the weight to bear. You’ve had enough of it.

You’re trying not to think about your mother too much. You know the moment you’ll be left with your thoughts again you’ll crash, so you try to focus on the fact Jungkook’s waiting for you just outside the door.

It works. Almost.

You thank the driver, and then you open the car door, stepping outside into the rain. The only thing you notice is that some drops are clouding Jungkook’s glasses where he’s standing waiting for you, but he turns his back to you and walks to the door without saying anything.

It feels weird, but you still follow him. He waits for you by the door, and offers you a smile as you stop next to him.

“They shouldn’t talk to you about it,” he says as he glances towards the door. “And if someone makes a comment, I promise I’ll beat the shit out of them.”

That sounds a little excessive, and it takes you aback. You remain silent for a time, just taking in the noises and smells of the rainy world around you.

“I… are we going to hang out with them?” you ask.

You don’t realize you’ve used the word ‘we’ until Jungkook repeats it. “We can stay in my room, if you prefer.”

“I…” you trail off, nodding slowly. “I think I’d like that better.”

He offers you another sweet smile, a soft smile you haven’t seen in months now. “Alright then. We can go straight up to my room.”

You thank him with the smallest voice you can muster up, and then you’re walking into his home behind him, trying to hide behind his large frame so his friends – your friends – won’t see you.

Luckily enough, the living room is empty, even though the TV is on and playing some drama you know for a fact Jo has been watching with Taehyung. You wonder where they’re hiding, but you’re thankful you don’t have to confront them as Jungkook leads you to the staircase, and then up to his room.

You only relax when you step in the cool darkness of his room. Jungkook drops your bags by the door before turning his LED lights on, and they shine purple around you. You eye his room – it’s a lot cleaner then you saw it the last time you stood in it, the night he told you about the accident. Not that it was very messy then, but it looks and smells like Jungkook has just cleaned it.

It feels homey, and it makes your eyes well up again. Jungkook has his back turned to you as he moves to his PC, before sitting in his gaming chair. He turns to look at you, tongue playing with his piercing for a few long silent seconds.

You just stay by the door, fighting the tears in your gaze.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asks, gently, his big doe eyes casting softness on his entire aura.

You dry the lone tear that’s escaped the confines of your eye with your thumb, before folding your arms on your chest. “I don’t even know where to start.”

He offers you a sad, knowing smile, before glancing pointedly at his bed. “You can first get comfortable.”

You don’t know why, but it makes you chuckle a little. You reckon you might be going crazy, but you can’t even bring yourself to care.

“You’re just going to sit there?” you enquire.

He shrugs. “Would you rather me sit with you?”

Your heart beats steadily in your chest as you answer, “Are you comfortable with that?”

It’s the closest you’ll go to mentioning Laura tonight. If he wants to pretend she doesn’t exist, then you’ll follow his lead.

“Of course,” he simply says, and you watch as he moves to his bed. The floor creaks as he steps closer, and you watch as he rearranges his pillows so they can serve as a backrest. He then sits on the side of the bed, patting the spot next to him. “Come here.”

You bite at your tongue to refrain from saying something, instead nodding your head as you cross the distance between you and him.

It feels a little awkward sitting there, but Jungkook saves you by saying, “Do you feel comfortable confiding in me?”

You glance at him. His eyes are already set on you, and it makes something ache so deeply in your chest that you think you might actually be dying.

“I mean, I’d be better off talking to Jiho, uh?” You shrug your shoulders. “I… is it okay if I talk to you?”

He nods. “As I said earlier, I care about you. You can tell me anything if it can help make you feel better.”

You highly doubt it’ll help. You highly doubt revealing to the man that broke your heart that your mother hates you will help in any way. So you choose to say something else instead.

“You know my parents divorced, right?” You wait for him to give you an indication that he does, and then your gaze slides to the floor, before settling on a vague spot next to his gaming chair. “I don’t think you know the reason why. Only Jiho and her brother do, and I’ve never really told anyone else.” You steel yourself, taking a deep breath, before continuing. “My mother cheated on my dad before I was born? And uh… He’s not my dad. We learned when I was sixteen.”

A heavy silence follows your revelation. You’re too broken and exhausted to be ashamed, so you just shrug your shoulders. “That part doesn’t even matter anyway.”

You completely freeze when Jungkook grabs your uninjured hand, slowly forcing you to unclench your fist by gently pulling on your fingers. “You have the right to say it matters,” he carefully says.

You feel like falling in his arms again, but you let him play with your fingers instead. “It… it does matter. My mother has always blamed me for him leaving. Said if I never was born then he would have stayed with her.” You’re crying softly now, silently. “I think that’s the reason why she decided to kick me out today. She’s had enough.”

“I don’t have the words to convey how sorry I am that you’ve experienced that.”

You let out a broken sound, and then your crying is nothing but silent, with you sobbing as you hide your face in your hands. Jungkook wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his chest. And he holds you as you break, as if the breaking has never scared him. You don’t know how he does it: the night you saw him break right in this room you fled like a coward.

“It hurts so bad”, you say through your tears, and the words cause a break in the sobbing. “Like, I never thought she’d go this far.”

He runs a hand on your back, waiting for you to continue.

“We barely even talk most of the time, but we got in a fight on Saturday before practice. Something about money. And it doesn’t even make sense because today she said she’ll still pay for everything, but she’s given me a month to be out of the house.”

The position in which Jungkook is holding you is a little uncomfortable, so you push on his chest, until he lets you straighten. You balk at the sight of tears on his cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” you ask, forgetting all about your own pain for a few seconds.

He chuckles sadly, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Sorry. I’m a sympathetic crier.”

It’s endearing. And you know the last thing you should feel when it comes to Jeon Jungkook is endearment, but you’ll allow it for tonight.

“It’s fine”, you reassure him. “I’m going to be fine.”

You say it as if he’s the one that needs comforting, and he catches on to it right away. “You’re not alone, you know?”

You blink back tears as one rolls on his cheeks. It makes him laugh awkwardly, and he quickly dries it, this time using the sleeve of his shirt.

And he has no business telling you you’re not alone. It makes you look away as you’re fighting the urge to yell at him. To yell at him for breaking your heart, to yell at him for not listening to you, for moving on so quickly.

He’s right though. You’re not alone. You have friends that are there for you, no matter how far away they feel like.

“It’s just…” you trail off, shrugging your shoulders. “It fucking sucks that my mother hates me so bad. No matter what I do she just always hates me, and sometimes it does feel like everything is my fault.”

“It’s a natural way to feel after she’s blamed you for years”, Jungkook carefully replies, as if he too has heard the hidden meaning behind your words.

As if he too knows you’re also referring to how you lost him.

“But you know that it isn’t, right?” he adds. “People make mistakes. That’s what makes all of us human.”

“I just…” Now you break even more. You can barely breathe for a few seconds, and it feels like you’re burning inside, so badly you think all that will be left of you are charred remains. “I just wish my mother would love me? It’s so fucking hard to see happy families all around when all I’ve got is her.”

You’re talking about Jiho and her family. Jungkook probably doesn’t know, and you reckon it isn’t really relevant. Because Jiho’s family is not the only happy family in your vicinity. You see couples on walks with their kids all the time in your neighbourhood, you see some friends from high school getting married and starting their own little family. And you’d like to think your friends are your family – it does feel like it most of the time. But today it feels as if you’re back in that forgotten space where no one knows about you.

Where all that you are is the physical embodiment of breaking.

“You know, I still talk to my dad,” you add after you’ve fought a wave of panic. “But he has his own family now. He’s married, and they have a son.”

You glance at Jungkook, and he’s still crying. In silence, just letting his tears flow freely. His nose has turned red, and you want to reach out and ruffle his hair. You want to wipe his tears and hold him, making sure that he’ll never hurt.

But that’s not your job. So you just let out a small laugh. “Stop crying.”

He furrows his brows before chuckling. “Sorry.”

“We can stop talking about it if you want,” you suggest.

He forcefully shakes his head no a few times. “No. You need to talk, and you deserve to be listened to.”

You hate him. You wish you could show him that he’s ripped your heart from your chest, that he broke you that July night. When he chose not to listen to you, when his pride won over whatever emotions the starry night raised between you.

He’s sensed your unease, because he adds, “I’ll never do that again.”

“But why, Jungkook?” you ask, voice trembling. “Why did you do it in the first place?”

His hand moves between you as if he wants to hold you again, but his arm falls back to his side. “I was too proud. We can talk about it tomorrow?”

You scoff, but then crease your brow. Because if he’s referencing to a tomorrow, maybe he doesn’t expect you’ll have to leave again. “Why?”

“Because you’re vulnerable right now, and I think it’s better to process what happened today before we focus on what happened in the past.”

Jungkook sounds as if he’s majoring in psychology, and not photography. You don’t know what to make of it.

“Why?” you repeat, as if it’s the only word known to you.

“Because I think you still have a lot more to say about your mother. And I’d hate myself if I brought the conversation to me.”

“Jungkook…”

He shrugs. “I’m serious, I was a dick. And I don’t want to be like that anymore. So tonight we’ll figure out what we can do to fix your situation, and then we can talk some more tomorrow.” He offers you a tentative smile. It’s a little hopeful, like he wants you to stay.

And tonight, you’re foolish enough to believe you will.

“What should I do?” you ask after a while of silence. “I never thought I’d have to find a place to stay in such a short amount of time.”

He worries at his piercing, and then he’s getting up to walk to his PC setup. He turns it on, before glancing at you. “Come here.”

You hesitate, but when he moves the chair so it’s facing you, you figure it’s better if you just do as he asked. So you get up and cross the distance between you once again, before plopping down in the chair. Jungkook turns you towards the keyboard, and then he leans down to press in his password.

You catch a whiff of his detergent from so close, and maybe of some cologne, though it’s pretty faded. It distracts you from your ocean of sorrow, and you just watch him with wide eyes as he waits for the monitor to show its welcome screen.

“Why don’t you look up some apartments? Figure out what you’d like to live in.”

It’s a good suggestion, but it makes you feel infinitely insecure. “I don’t know what I’d like to live in.”       

He glances at you, offering you an encouraging smile. “Do you want a studio, or do you want your room to be separated from the rest of your living area?”

You think about it for a time. You’ve always been used to having your own room, and you’ve always liked the comfort of a closed door when you sleep at night. So you reply, “I’d like to have a room.”

He nods his head, before focusing on the monitor as he opens the web browser, and then searches for a website where you can look through listed places to rent. He puts in some filters, asking you more questions to guide the search – like your budget, if you want an office, if you need a parking spot.

You’re so thankful to have him with you right now you think you’ll cry again. You succeed at blinking the new wave of tears away though, and then you start looking at the apartments.

A whole hour later, you’ve made a list of places you’d like to go visit. Jungkook suggests to go sometime over the weekend, but with midterms coming and having to practice for nationals, you feel like you’re running out of time.

It makes panic rise in you, and Jungkook quickly gets up from where he’s been sitting on his bed. In two long strides he’s already next to you, and he turns the chair away from his monitor.

“That’s enough for tonight,” he says gently. “You’ve got a good list, and I can help by visiting some of them if you want.” He slowly nods. “That could work. I could take videos for you.”

“Most of them are on the other side of town.”

He shrugs. “It’s fine, I can take the bus. I can visit a couple of them on the same day too.”

When you start crying, Jungkook grabs your hand to pull you up. You don’t resist, and you let him guide you to his bed.

“Sit.”

You don’t move, instead burying your face in your hands.

He says your name gently, pulling you in yet another hug. He’s firm next to you, warm and real, and in this moment you realize you don’t want him to be gone when tomorrow comes.

But he’s right, and it’s better if you focus on figuring where to live for tonight. Already, you feel a little reassured that things will work out.

He lets you go when your tears recede, and you let out a small laugh as you notice he’s shed a couple of his own too.

“You really are a sympathetic crier,” you tease, and it makes both of you laugh some more.

“Sorry.”

His hands are still on your shoulders, and your mind chooses this moment to focus on the spot where his palms trace warm spots on you. He notices the change in your expression right away, and he lets his arms fall to his side.

“Don’t apologize,” you say, and you let your gaze drop to a random spot on his chest. Mostly because his big eyes have started feeling like a safe haven far too much. “You’d really go visit some apartments for me?”

He sits on the bed, nodding his head. “Yes, of course. Unless you’d rather go yourself, which would be totally understandable.”

You kind of do, because you know you’ll need to see the places yourself to decide which one you want to build your home in. But Jungkook could pinpoint which locations are worth visiting…

“Maybe you can visit a couple and send videos?” you suggest, even though that’s what he already said he’d do. “And you tell me which you prefer and all.”

He smiles at you, a little hesitantly. “My opinion is not important.”

He’s right, it’s not. But at the same it is, so you only shrug your shoulders. “You’re not stupid, I’m pretty sure you can tell if a place sucks.”

“Right.” He laughs a little, that childish laugh of his you haven’t heard from him since the weekend at the cottage. It stabs into your chest a little, but you reckon you’ve cried way too much tonight to be able to cry some more.

Or maybe the way his eyes are crinkling at the corners, housing hearths of happiness that shine brightly as he looks up at you… Maybe that is the true reason why you don’t feel like crying anymore.

You look away, taking a deep, steadying breath. You don’t know what good it does you, but it’s easier to think when you’re not directly looking at him.

“What’s next though?” you ask.

“A trip to Ikea?” he proposes, shrugging his shoulders. “We figure out what furniture you need, what home appliances and all of that shit.”

“My mother is letting me keep the furniture in my room.”

He nods. “Then the bedroom is going to be easy. You might want a dinner table or a couch, or maybe just a desk?”

You decide to sit next to him before replying, letting yourself think about it for a time. “It’d be nice to have a little cozy living room area.”

You don’t see it, but he’s smiling softly as he gazes at your profile. “What do you have in mind?”

“Mmh,” you let out. “Maybe a cute little coffee table, and some plants? I don’t watch TV a lot, but I feel like that’s a necessary thing in an apartment.”

He chuckles. “You don’t need to have a TV. You can save up the money for other stuff.”

You’re too drained to feel stressed about the financial aspect, but you still say, “I hope I made enough money over the summer to be able to afford all of that.”

His expression turns somber. “You can always get a part-time job to help. And you mentioned you still talk to your dad. Is your relationship good enough with him to talk about money?”

For the first time tonight, you realize there might be a chance you’ll truly make it out of this situation. And Jungkook’s words remind you that your father suggested himself that you move out of your mother’s house. Maybe he’d truly be inclined to help.

“I could try,” you say after a few seconds of thinking. “I’ll call him tomorrow, see what he thinks about this whole situation.”

Jungkook offers you an encouraging nod. “Good idea.”

As silence fills the room around you once more, you find yourself yawning. You hide it behind the back of your hand, but Jungkook still notices. He chuckles a little, and you throw him a sheepish look.

“Sorry, I’m exhausted,” you admit.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

You hold his gaze for a few seconds. “As much as I feel like I still have a lot to do, I think sleeping would be better.”

“You’ll also feel better in the morning,” he says, smiling softly. “Trust me.”

You chuckle, because you don’t know if he’s right but you sure hope that he is. “Let’s hope so.” You look around, eyes settling on your bags by the door. “Is there any chance that I could take a shower?”

He’s up before you’ve even finished your sentence. “Of course. I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

*****

                Jungkook has a hard time believing that you are currently sleeping in his bed behind him. He barely even dares look over his shoulder, afraid that you’ll disappear if he does. But each time he fails to resist the urge, you’re still there. Features serene in your sleep, arms wrapped around a pillow.

You told him you liked to hug something while you slept, and he made sure to tuck that piece of information in the safest corner of his brain.

When you came back from your shower, hair wet and cheeks red from the water – or maybe from crying some more – Jungkook had started a game with Taehyung. You told him that he could play while you slept, and he kept the volume to a minimum since then, though he reckons you’d probably sleep through a hurricane.

It’s unbelievable that you’re here. That you’re real, that maybe he’ll be able to fix things with you. He’s not foolish to expect he deserves to be the one that you love. He knows he’s lost that privilege a while ago. But he thinks that maybe, maybe you could be friends.

He finds a strange form of comfort in thoughts of friendship with you.

He’ll help you. He’s already decided he’ll do everything he needs to do to make sure you settle into your apartment comfortably. It’s what you deserve, and if you let him, he’ll make sure you forget about your mother.

He knew you had a bad relationship with her, but he has never suspected that it was so bad. And he didn’t tell you, won’t tell you either, but he’s glad that you’re out of that toxic environment.

Maybe it’ll allow you to grow and finally start healing. And he knows more than anyone on this Earth how much healing you deserve.

You don’t deserve any of the pain that you’ve been through.

Taehyung went to bed about twenty minutes ago, and Jungkook has just been looking at YouTube videos since then. He doesn’t want to go to sleep yet, mostly because he enjoys your presence, and he doesn’t want to have to go downstairs.

But he told you he would, so he will.

He’s not really paying any attention to the video unfolding on his monitor. As a matter of fact, all he can think of is that he understands you now, or at least he’s starting to. Starting to understand the complicated maze that is your heart, starting to know how to navigate its halls.

He can’t wait to talk to you more tomorrow. To tell you he’s not with Laura anymore, that he’s sorry for the pain he put you through. He’s anxious about it, and maybe that most of all is the reason why he doesn’t want to go downstairs.

Because there’s a high possibility that you’re just going to leave tomorrow, and he reckons he’d deserve it.

He sighs, blinking his tiredness away. He readjusts his glasses on his nose, tries to focus on the video, but he’s dozing off.

No matter how much he fights it, he knows he’ll just end up falling asleep in his gaming chair. So he turns off the computer, turning the chair around as silently as possible to glance at you. You shift a little where you’re lying, burrowing your face in the pillow.

Jungkook doesn’t think he is ready to feel the pang it causes in his heart, because he almost starts crying then. But he’s cried enough tonight – not nearly as much as you, of course. So he blinks the emotion away, and then he stands.

He moves towards his bed, walking around it to reach the empty side. He can’t resist but sit on it, and as creepy as it might be he just looks at you for a few seconds.

You’re real. You’re real and in his bed, under his comforter, like the place belongs to you. He thinks maybe it does.

Jungkook takes off his glasses, putting them down on the night table. He rubs his nose where the pads left little indents, sighing deeply before lying down. He knows he shouldn’t, knows he should just grab his pillow and go, but he wants to be in your company just a little longer.

He’s a fool, he knows he is, and he falls asleep in the next few seconds.

Prev | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Soooo we're finally nearing the end of the angst are we?? I'm sorry I ended it here, this chapter used to be over 20k and I split it in two hahaha did we still like it??

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

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@whoa-jo | @kelsyx33 | @sugaluvmyg | @mafameal | @allisonstonex | @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs | @nadzzzblog | @bloopkook | @synnfulqt | @ggukiepie | @quarter-life-crisis2 | @amylouisecullen | @chimchimmarie | @jk-190811 | @pamzn | @melodiesforari

[beeoftheanxieties]

So, @da-proti-toku-grem kind of inspired me to make a lengthy post, sharing some positive vibes across the fandom, listing the reasons why I love each member of Joker Out and why I would go full mom-mode on them and cook for them and bake them gluten-free cookies.

Anyway:

A Joker Out, brain-rot, appreciation post

(members listed in alphabetical order)

Bojan

First up - as someone who had the chance to see them live, he is an insane performer

His ability to enchant the crowd is insane and you can tell really well that he has great acting abilities too

Watched him in Gospod Profesor too, spot on for someone who is a so-called amateur

His singing voice is... amazing to say the least, it feels really unique

Also, the way he talks, the sound of his voice, the words he uses, his pronunciation, if there were awards for talking he would get one

The languages he speaks, I want to study him, linguistically, he is truly a phenomenon

We of course love a bilingual king

He looks like he has his priorities straight

I also respect him so much for how open he is about his mental illness

I might relate to him a bit too much at times whoops

And the fact that he can somehow befriend literally anyone??? Love that

His friendship with Jere is the main one of course

Oh yeah and the fact that he literally helped people who collapsed at their gigs a few times

Bless him, he deserves all the rest he is hopefully getting

Jan

First things first, I have a soft spot for math guys

And the way he talks about math is fascinating (but you still won't get me to like it Jan)

Cat dad???? We absolutely adore Igor and a man loving cats is such a green flag

I know people say he mumbles a bit and it's hard to understand him at times, but idk, he talks nice and slowly, so it's still really easy to understand him

He comes from my home region, so I am very biased haha

Also, every band needs a guitarist with luscious locks

He absolutely owns the colour red, that colour was invented specifically for him

The nose ring suits him so well too, this man KNOWS what fits him

And if that ends up being jackets with nothing underneath when he performs, THEN SO BE IT

I know people call Kris the lesbian icon, but from what I've seen lesbians are very drawn to Jan as well

Oh, and he gives me Klaus from the Umbrella Academy vibes (I blame the hair and the pink boa)

Jure

Holy shit, sunshine in human form????

The most underappreciated one in the band imo

His surname literally means 'cat' and I am so normal that Jan has called him 'muca'

He also comes from my region haha, bias again

He's really good at filming, he actually shot a few things for RTV (national TV station) and edited them as well, god, talent

Also playing drums... I have sang, I have played guitar, played bass, but drums is something I feel like I could NEVER do, so hats off to you

As @da-proti-toku-grem pointed out, THE MOLE ON HIS LIP? weak knees, yes

He also reminds me of a good friend of mine and I vibe with him so much, I feel like I would vibe with Jure as well

I really don't like the fact that drummers tend to get ignored and I just wish there was more Jure performing content

Though I love it how every time, during Novi Val, he comes to the front and hangs with the others

His hair also looks so soft and fluffy aaaaaa

Again, biased but he resembles my bf the most out of everyone so hmmmm

Kris

The baby of the band! (and the only one in the band I could actually call 'mulc')

In case you didn't know yet, he's half Dutch

And he speaks Dutch, which, as someone who speaks Dutch (in theory, not in practice) makes me really happy

I wish to study him linguistically as well

Also his parents' story feels very close to me, as I'm dating outside of my culture as well

According to him he was menace as a kid and I think we should normalise the fact that you can become a better person as you grow up

But pls don't honk at me on the road Kris, pls, I will cry

The songs he wrote??? NGVOT and Vse kar vem??? Oh boy, I love them, adore them

His holey sweaters are also a vibe

Dutch fans, if you don't shower him and the rest of the band with gifts at their Dutch concerts, I will be mad

Also gotta honorably mention Maks

They gotta be my fav nepo-but-not-really babies out there

Kinda like Maya Hawke?

I am ranting

He also looks like the only member of the band that I would fight, and idk why

Also, I must know if he supports Max Verstappen haha

Minus points for chemistry though, I cannot with that

Nace

Okay everyone

Here we go

We have reached my beloved

I love all of them, but Nace just a bit more

It was love at first sight, I cannot lie

I have a soft spot for bassists and he might actually convince me to try and play bass again

He has been playing it for so long too??? like wow

Oh and of course; THE TATTOOS, BLESSETH BE THE TATTOOS

I will always go feral about his tattoos

At every concert

I know he was the last to join the band but it looks like he fits in so nicely, it's beautiful

Strong mom-codded dad friend vibes

He kinda is the dad of the band haha

And he looks like he gives amazing hugs (lucky all of you who had managed to get one already)

A nice addition to the band

Oh and he's apparently shit at sports which is like... felt

Plus the fact that he wanted to be a vet?

Me too boo, me too, but neither of us is there now

Anway, I'll stop now. In conclusion, this band has my whole heart and they deserve every good thing that happens to them and so much more.

[crooked-wasteland]

Hazbin Hotel Live Blog: Overture

. While I am being kind to the show as it is, I cannot push out of my mind the fact that this is still Vivienne Medrano, and while this seems to be an interesting direction the series is considering to take the story, I am lacking any intrigue. Medrano has a knack for interesting ideas, but once executed are often trimmed down from all nuance and then played in the most straight forward and storybook fashion.

Evil existed before and separate from Lucifer

Eve is linked to the root of evil through the animation

Dichotomy of Lilith and Lucifer

Why does Heaven think Hell will rise up?

Charlie is reading the storybook to herself. Aloud. And the reason is because she’s like a child seeking comfort. Also Charlie’s delivery of “Pretty worked up” is just feeling off. Like isn’t this supposed to be a somber moment? Why is it delivered so chipper? The pilot had her crying and singing a lamentation. Downgrade.

Info dump dialogue

“This kingdom was something she really cared about.”

Vaggie’s voice is such a downgrade. She sounds so uninterested.

“Daddy issues by fixing you” So alastor knows about Charlie’s family situation already.

The lineart around Alastor is so distracting. It’s so bizarrely thick.

I wish there was no dialogue

Her dad calls her but she is supposed to have a strained relationship.

I feel like Medrano doesn’t know what Angel Dust is. As in the actual drug. PCP is not Cocaine.

That was the worst segue into a song I ever saw.

“If you dont mind the smell, it’s a happy day in hell.” I hate this line.

Vaggie just never sounds right, does she? Her singing is so nasal dominate it doesn’t sound like her throaty modal voice.

What was the contract? What did it say? Why even have Charlie sign anything if we have no concept of what that is? It is such a rip off from Ariel’s contract in the Little Mermaid that it feels more like an Easter egg than relevant to the story actively being told. You need to show why the actions happening are taking place, you cant just do things and expect us to pick up the pieces for you. Are you trying to get across that Heaven is full of bureaucracy and paperwork? There is no receptionist and no other person in the building until she signs ONE paper. You failed at portraying an overabundance of bureaucratic red tape and it is distracting and infuriating. All I see are the better DISNEY MOVIES that were clearly just plagiarized. Not an homage, not inspired. Plagiarized.

Lucifer calls Charlie to meet Adam. Adam says he knows. So this doesn’t feel like this is Charlie filling in, the way the dialogue is written is that it was specifically planned for Charlie to meet Adam.

Everything has a gradient.

I bet $15 that the Dickmaster portion of Adam’s dialogue was Alex Brightman’s improv. I was not impressed by his Kaiju Dick improv in Oops and this is just as flaccid. Pun intended.

There is a clear discccrepency in talent between Alex and Erika. He has such a smoother voice and range while Erika feels like a Disney understudy where every delivery is pretty much identical to the last. Like the songs themselves are not doing her any favors. They range from bad to mediocre, and even in the better songs, there is always one horrifically bad lyric that just ruins the entire experience.

I like Lute. She feels like Peridot.

RIP Katie Killjoy.

Nifty is cute. The joke for her had a lot of potential of being hilarious but didn’t meet my threshold of comedy due to lacking a feel for Nifty. Imagine if she was in every scene with Vaggie talking her head off and never shutting up. Then when Vaggie is like, “If anyone can sell this hotel, it’s Nifty.” And we had this foundation that Nifty is known for being a huge chatterbox only to then be dead silent when the camera is on her. It would have been hilarious. But we see her once and she has one singular line previous. So it just feels like a cheap visual gag.

As a musical, it is lackluster. I see that Evil is something separate from Lucifer and something he dislikes. Lucifer is said to see free will as a spring of creativity, but humans used it to suck and that killed Lucifer’s love of life. In the meantime, Lilith is empowered by Hell. Hell fuels her sense of freedom, which she spreads through her “songs”. Only for her to just vanish I guess. She just hopes out without a word, Charlie says she must be doing something important over the last 7 years, but no inclination on what important things Lilith would be doing. Additionally, Lilith is said to have loved Hell, like Charlie. So it sets up this idea that Lucifer dislikes Hell or even hates it, while Lilith revels in it. Alluding to their marriage falling apart from this dissonance. At the same time, Lucifer calls Charlie to meet with Heaven, despite the pilot being canon. So we get the impression that Charlie and Lucifer had a falling out (“Maybe dad was right.”) but she doesn’t have much more than surprise at her father calling. Then he just sets up this meeting for her to meet with Adam off screen entirely. It is unclear how this was conveyed, but Lucifer doesn’t believe in Charlie and her meeting Adam has nothing at all to do with her hotel.

But the way Adam talks about the meeting is unusual in that it gives the impression that it wasn’t about Charlie “filling in”, but that this whole meeting was specifically set for Charlie and Adam. This is compounded by how the ending reads like they didn’t know if the angel was dead until that moment. So the extermination being moved up has nothing to do with the angel’s death. Maybe I’m wrong, but this all feels really disjointed.

But Lute really is just Peridot. So much so that when asked what I liked about the episode, I literally said “Peridot”, not Lute. The one good aspect of this episode is another stolen concept from a better show with a more competent creator. But I also like Alex Brightman’s singing. He is very talented and he does elevate the material by really playing with his delivery, but it’s still at best Mid due to the weak lyrics,

3/10

[choicesmc]

CEDAR STATION - MEET THE MCs - DROP ONE

What’s this, you ask? Well, @aria-ashryver is doing this wonderful little series called Welcome to the Jungle! [here’s the latest episode], I thought it’d be a cool idea to make moodboards of all the MCs featured in the series. I also made this decision after episode two when there was only six MCs. Episode 3 added a couple more MCs whose moodboards regrettably will not be on this post. …Instead, they’ll be in the next post [DROP TWO] (<- I’ll link it here when it goes up.) 

You cannot imagine the amount of fun I’ve had learning about all of y’all’s MCs and trying to create moodboards that are 1) cool and 2) reflect them and your vision of them. I hope I’ve done all these wonderful MCs literally any justice so without further ado onto the moodboards! 

(It's under the read more)

ANITHA

tagging: @lover-also-fighter-also Can I just say? More Anitha content? Please? Especially about her childhood? Absolutely fell in love with the fact that she sings and plays soccer and used to ride motorcycles with her dad.

DORIAN

tagging: @/aria-ashryver (<- i wasn't sure whether or not tagging the same person multiple times in a post would show up multiple times in your notifs and didn't want to risk it)

Dorian is lovely. It's kind of embarrassing how many times I've poured over literally any mention of Dorian on your blog. I took the wants to be a hero and fucking ran with it. anyway please enjoy the fruit of my obsession.

EVIE

tagging: @cadybear420 Admittedly, you were expecting this. I wanted everything to be a surprise but I also wanted to make sure I especially got Evie right. I hope this one is miles better than the prototype I sent you like forever and more ago! (Can you tell l adore Evie's style? Can you?)

LUCA

tagging: @/aria-ashryver + @lilyoffandoms (that's their amazing work smack dab in the middle of the board!!)

Love Luca, don't think I can say much more than that about it 😭 (Wanna know the inspiration for the main background? -> Luca always having a cracked screen. the minute I saw that the rest of the board fell into place xD)

MARIANNA

tagging: @rosesnink

My stars. Prior to this project, I'd briefly come across Marianna in tidbits and snippets. I regret not knowing this brilliant woman sooner. I fell in love with her and your writing! It reminds me of soft kisses and secret trysts. Thank you so much!!

RIN

tagging: me + myself + i

look. I couldn't not include Rin??? I'd be a monster to do that!

So, really hope y'all like your moodboards! Like I said, I have another big post planned (though it'll take a hot minute before it drops xD) It was so so hard keeping myself quiet. You do not want to know how many times I almost leaked this 😭 or the urge to post each on individually!! But I am so glad I resisted! It's so much more fun in a big post like this :D

[sol-draws-sometimes]

shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals <3

Me: Why don’t people send me asks

Also me: Takes weeks to respond cause I can’t answer a question normally

Okay here’s the thing, I don’t really listen to playlists and the only one I do is a shuffle playlist I have(tho I’m pretty proud of it). What I normally do is pick a song and go to radio, or go to my likes and press one of the genere thingys

However I think I’ll do 2 things, show off my shuffle playlist(since I actually do use it a lot), and then shuffle my liked songs NOT w/out any categories for full chaos. Actually I also have a shuffle playlist I did for Spanish music, but that one’s more recent and hasn’t gotten that much use so I won’t do the shuffle thingy.

Anyway this my oldies shuffle playlist:

It’s over a day’s worth of music, cause it’s meant to be shuffled(full disclosure started adding a shit ton of songs before the shuffle because I wanted to make sure it was accurate to my taste and there was a lot of music I added to my likes before making the playlist so they were missing(big chunks of abba,Fleetwood mac,queens, EWF, ELO, etc.) While the playlist is inspired by dad, and so is my taste in oldies music(actually a mix of him and my older sis), there’s stuff on there that I like that he doesn’t( stuff like Simon and Garfunkle and Elton John). It’s mostly 70s, but I’d say it’s 60s-80s. Also it’s English music, so no city pop or older hispanic music like Jeanette(most of my older spanish music is 90s anyway).

Anway these were the first 5 songs

1. At The Rainbows End- The Osmonds

2. Unercover Angel- Alan O’Day

3. Lady in Red- Chris Burgh

4. That’s All- Genesis

5. Wouldn’t it be Nice- Beach Boys

Also screenshotted 5 more and I think these are more indicative of my tastes in oldies(it’s missing a bit of my classic rock but it’s not like that’s what I listen to the most)

6. Roxanne- The Police

7. Oh Daddy- Fleetwood Mac

8. I’m Gonna Be(500 miles)- The Proclaimers (ngl got jumpscared with this one)

9. Wild Word- Ysuf/Cat Stevens

10. Fernando- Abba

Fun fact: Most of Rumors is on the playlist and the whole Xanadu Soundtrack is on there! I’d say may fav artists from the 70s would be ELO and ABBA, tho EWF was my fav band as a kid so that’s still nostalgic to me. Also Doobie Brothers are pretty good! Oh and Hall and Oats! On the more rock rock side of things, I’d say Aerosmith is the one know the most. Or Kansas, I think I like them more idk. I mostly listen to soft rock.

OKAY TIME FOR CHAOS SHUFFLE TIME

1. Sex w/ a Ghost—Teddy Hyde(I think this is more of my sister song?, tho it’s not bad song)

2. Esto les Digo— Kiney Lange, performed by Messiah College Concert Choir (yes this is a choir song)

3. Rata De Dos Patas—Paquita La Del Barrio

4. マイ・ボーイ(My Boy)- Lisa Ono (The title is Japanese but the song is in English)

5. Shun-ran— John (THIS IS IN JAPANESE, specifically vocaloid)

Bonus 6 incase 1 wasn’t me

6. L-O-V-E—Nat King Cole

Honestly, this is actually a good mix of the music I listen to, indie/soft, spanish, and j-pop, and oldies it’s just missing musical theater(also I listen to more early 2000s latino music). Also I don’t really listen to choir/classical music all the time but I do LOVE singing it so sometimes I will try to find new choir songs. Tbh, most playlist on Spotify lowkey suck and have very same-y repertoire, the best playlists I’ve found are Choir Classic-Spotify(a bit same-y but it is the classics™), Choir music that makes me crumb(great variety! I recommend this one the most), and I think Choir songs me that give me chills is also pretty good and it has more musical theater on it (THOUGH IT’S MISSING NORTE DAME).

Okay, I’m done yapping

[ellievickstar]

Just Another Stereotype 

Warnings: physical abuse, mentions of self harm, su!c!de, de@th, Swear words ( 13+ )

inspiration: Seasonal depression got to me

Ship: Inner circle x reader, Acheron!reader, Azriel x reader

So everyone knows the stereo type of how the youngest is the golden child, the child that can do no wrong, the favourite. But not my family, yes I was the youngest but when my mother died, things changed.

My sisters had things to do, so they were spared from my father’s wrath. And even when my dad was so rageful, he never did anything to my sisters. He loved Elain too much, Nesta was his heiress and Feyre kept us alive? But me? Twelve year old me who occasionally went with Feyre but was over all useless?

My father did things. And I remembered it all, the beatings, the pain, the terror. I never wanted to be alone but I could not tell my sisters. How could I? They all loved father and even though Feyre resented him, she loved her. And I cared, so I let it eat me alive. The words spoked, the physical pain. I was a girl, many would say they missed her. But I don’t, she was easier to use, and abuse, and she was, for very long.

I still remember it all.

“You brat! Why can’t you be more grateful? You can’t even help around the house!” The thunderous voice of my father rattled my senses as I burst into tears, I tried to shield myself but as my head met the wall I yelped in pain. It was too much, all too much. “You are a mistake, why can’t you be more like your sisters?” He hissed the pure anger in his eyes. The words from his poisoned mouth. I was dazed but the words echoed. Mistake, burden, useless. I was all that and more.

I was there the day we killed the wolf. I had gone out, afraid of father but I went with Feyre, claiming that I wanted to learn, to spend time with her. And when we went deep into those woods. She had taught me how to shoot the wolf, and she had sliced its throat. Granted it a painless death, even if she suspected that it was Fae.

I was taken away with her. She fell in love with the High Lord of the Spring Court but I did not buy it, not one bit. The act. I was seventeen years old when all that happened. I saw through the High Lord who wanted to coddle Feyre, take care of her, of me. I didn’t want that. I had been through enough that I did not want to be coddled, I wanted to fight. So instead of joining Feyre for her paintings, her walks, I taught myself skills. I trained with Lucien, bless him, and he taught me helpful skill sets. How to read, how to fight, how to remain calm in situations.

At the end I confided in him and we bonded over the fact that our fathers were pieces of shit. I was there the night Feyre was almost attacked by that group of scoundrels, I was ready to use what I had learnt to fight them off but then, “There you are, I’ve been looking for you,” That voice was like velvet midnight. The violet eyes of the stranger that was familiar yet not. The High Lord of the Night Court. Lucien had told me he was a prick but, he seemed more approachable compared to Tamlin and i trusted my instincts and did so, part of me knew that Rhysand was not all that bad I guess.

Of course, I was there to help Feyre fight off the Middenguard wyrm. I helped her read the riddle. I was there when Amarantha snapped her neck, end the stabbed me through my gut. I was brought back, but unlike Feyre, I was not given the power of the seven courts. No, I was focused on four courts. The seasonal courts. I could summon the Solar Court powers if I really tried but the Seasonal Courts came at ease, like a second conscience.

Unlike my sister, I didn’t crumble apart under the pressure of the Spring Court, I followed her to the Night Court but I mostly kept to myself, most of the time. Mor was too loud, obnoxious for me and she liked dressing up so much. Amren was terrifying and didn’t like anyone, Cassian was a general, Rhysand was busy and the shadow singer. When I was younger I used to talk the to the shadows when i was sad, I would sing and sometimes after a bad beating I would seek solitude in a corner filled with shadows, if only to see the shadows dance, it was comfort.

The shadow singer was that and more, he was quiet, nice to have around so most of my days I spent time in the library, thanks to Az who showed me. I often borrowed books because I enjoyed reading and sometimes I spent time with Az just in simple company. He helped to train me. And when I found out that I had been gifted the power to have wings, not from shapeshifting but something like Rhysand. He had been with me every step of the way.

Almost another year passed and I had turned eighteen. Feyre didn’t say anything since she was busy with her other plans so I had spent some time in the kitchen. I was alone, and when I opened a drawer. It was like it called to be, the knife. I felt so empty, m birthday being just another reminder that I was just as useless as anyone because of how young I was, how I burdened everyone. I almost did it. I was ready to resort to that if it meant feeling something, anything. But Azriel came in, grabbed the knife from my hands and swept me away to my room. He had sat me on my bed and listened as I cried for hours.

That was when I had finished my tale and I realised something. “You know when I started to let the hurt eat me alive, I thought that the pain went away,” I confessed, before another tear slipped down my cheek, “Turns out I just got good at hiding it,” I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get enough air in my lungs as I wanted to rip my skin from my bone.

Rough, scarred hands grabbed my wrist as Azriel forced me to look at him. “You are allowed to feel pain. The stereotyped that siblings are treated a certain way is horse shit and the fact that you did all that alone, you are so strong, Y/N, more then you know,” So I had sobbed screamed and let all my problems out. Had laid it out for him as I broke down. As my walls came crashing down.

A/N: This is just an idea. Something triggered me today and my trauma got to me again so this story was a little depressing. I might turn the idea into a series. Sorry to anyone who can relate to domestic abuse, I hope you know that we are all in this together and there is someone out there for you. Even if you haven’t found them. Bye my loves <3

tag list: @moonfawnx @bankerfrog @younxii @starlit-terror @hideing @flightlesslittlebirdie @menagerofmischief @famousbasementpainter @owllover123 @bookworm-nerd6 @gigisssz @bethany-bee0128 @cityofidek

[callsign-rogueone]

the girlfriends’ music tastes

I did this as a fun little thing / character development for the ladies, and thought I’d share with the class — what would be on the girlfriends’ playlists, if they lived in our world in 2024. featuring things that are in my Spotify library! I’m a woman of broad taste. contains a few very mild spoilers for chapters I haven’t yet posted but oh well 🤷🏻‍♀️ [~400 words]

Angel: calm vibes and girly pop. Lana Del Rey, Taylor, TVGirl, Billie Eilish, Sabrina Carpenter, and so on. also secretly fond of Garrick’s gym playlists (mild phonk and rap). he was shocked to learn that she knew all the words to some of those songs and would hum along to them.

Darling: R&B / sensual pop, because she’s an unbothered baddie and she knows it. Ari, Kali Uchis, Jhene Aiko, SZA, and the classic 90s ladies: Sade, Aaliyah, Lauryn Hill… she loves to turn it up and just groove to relax, and Bodhi loves watching her do her lil dances.

Duchess: 00s hits, because she’s an elder millennial, and they just don’t make music like they used to. a lot of Beyoncé — just not “single ladies”, because Brennan did in fact put a ring on it, and he was deeply offended the first time he heard her play it after they got married. 

Love: DGAF Pop. Icona Pop, Charli XCX, Dua Lipa, Brittney… things you can blast in the car and sing along to. and that entire subgenre of 90s/00s ladies singing about how men ain’t shit. Dain has learned not to take that personally.

Peach: country, but happy, fun country. lots of the famous ladies: Carrie, Miranda, Dolly, Shania, old Taylor… some top 40 pop in there, too. anything that makes her feel good. and slow, romantic songs too, so she can sway around in the kitchen with Sawyer while they’re making dinner. 

Spark: a delicate blend of 2010s emo + classic “dad rock”. this entire post was inspired by Joan Jett’s “bad reputation” coming on shuffle and me going SPARK SPARK SPARK. dipping into metal a little bit — some Metallica in there, AC/DC, Mötley Crue, Black Sabbath… 

Sunny: powerful vocals. ABBA, broadway musicals, and famous jazz ladies. sings along in the shower or doing dishes etc., and she’s actually hitting the right notes and in perfect harmony with the original recording. but she’ll vibe with whatever’s playing and find something nice to say about it — just loves having any music on.

Sweetheart: instrumentals and classical. — good for studying. loves those “Lo-Fi anime beats” videos on YouTube, and reading ambiance playlists for really getting into a fantasy novel. invested a good chunk of change into noise canceling headphones, so it can be just her and her music, no distractions.

I'm still figuring out Bun... I'll add her later, maybe :)

[cartelheir]

─ PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER !

ALIAS / NAME : viviane, vivi. BIRTHDAY : november 13th. ZODIAC SIGN : scorpio sun, cancer rising, virgo moon. HEIGHT : 5'4 or 5'5 i have no idea HOBBIES : writing (i'm aware i haven't been doing a lot of that lately lmao but beyond rping i really like writing original projects), watching movies and shows, singing, playing guitar, cooking & baking, reading. FAVOURITE COLOUR : atm it's green but it changes every week. FAVOURITE BOOK : it's hard to choose but i think my top favorite would be a simple plan by scott smith. LAST SONG : una mattina by ludovico einaudi. LAST FILM / SHOW : last film was black swan (again, it's always my go-to when i just want a movie i know won't fail me), last show was the handmaid's tale (i can't stop watching it). RECENT READS : i was reading the housemaid's secret but tbh i'm not super into it. INSPIRATION : crime media is always a big one. i'd say the top ones for pat inspiration are n.arcos m.exico (not just because of her fc, but the visuals definitely help my inspiration too, like seeing her face but also the aesthetics around her and her sense of style in outfits, jewelry, etc) and the movie s.icario, but i could spend the whole day listing every crime and tv show that brings me inspo (seriously. if anyone wants me to ramble lmk). i also really like media about female revenge and rage, which is also a whole category of its own. another source of inspiration is research both about organized crime but also mexican culture and character archetypes that i feel fit pat to some degree, such as the femme fatale, the anti-hero, etc. STORY BEHIND URL : honestly there isn't much of one, this url was very impulsive. i was hammurabicomplex for the longest time, it was my brand and i didn't think i'd ever change it, but as pat's backstory evolved i thought of cartelheir and changed it on a whim. pat's journey for power mirrors her dad, who used to be a notorious kingpin, so i thought it was appropriate for her. FUN FACT ABOUT ME : i’m going through a huge, huge mid-20s crisis rn lmao

tagged by: @artmadc ❤️ tagging: i've seen a lot of people do this so idk who hasn't been tagged yet, please just steal and say i tagged you!

[sgt-morgan]

Dancing🎵

Summary: Matt learns all the moves of a dancer (apart of the Robin Trilogy)

Warnings: AFAB&female identifying reader, death of a family member, nothing else, very sweet and fluffy.

A/N: apparently I’m very inspired by Sting. Who would have guessed?

Daredevil Masterlist

You and Matt were dancing in the living room, your little girl was giggling and twirling around your legs she was perfect in every way. Stunning, and brave, and devilish, just like her dad. She was a curious child, smart and silly, she was the perfect addition to your little family and now Batman and Robin had a little Batgirl. She looked just like Matt, much to your pleasure. They had the same smile, the same nose, the same eyes. Matt was just glad she had your personality. She was silly, and vibrant, and a fighter. She lives up to her namesake everyday, and the nickname Battlin Jackie fit her like a glove. Your little family was giggling and twirling, and Matt held you close as you lay your head on his chest and watched your little girl run about the room. Then she stopped and tugged Matt’s pant leg.

“Sorry Robin! Batgirl calls.” Matt chuckles and kisses your temple, you sigh and close your eyes in content. He runs your back then releases you, picking up his daughter and looking like he was cradling the whole world in his hands.

“Ok you two, keep dancing. I’m gonna go turn on the oven.” You smile and leave them to their dancing. You wander to the kitchen and flip on the oven, hoping to make dinner for once this week. You and Matt had been so busy, but thankfully, you were free for the weekend, thus the impromptu dance party. You returned to the living room to see a sight that filled your heart to the brim.

Matt held your baby in the middle of the floor, he was swaying back and forth in a slow dance as some song by Sting played softly in the background. One of her little hands was clasped in his big calloused one, he had her wrapped up snugly in his arms, and one of her chubby cheeks rested on his shoulder. Her eyes were slowly dropping closed, and he was grinning and placing kisses to her curls, and suddenly you were reminiscing about an evening during your pregnancy.

You were in the living room, snuggling up to Matt, you were reading a boom and Matt was skimming over some paper work with one hand, while rubbing your belly with the other. There was a record playing, and you were humming along, when suddenly you were hit with a blast from the past.

“Oh, my grandfather and I always always used to dance to this song.” You smiled, standing and swaying back and fourth in a familiar box step. You smiled faintly and hummed the lyrics. Eventually singing them under your breath as you held your stomach and continued to read.

“Why do stars fall down from the sky

Every time you walk by?

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you

On the day that you were born the angels got together

And decided to create a dream come true

So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold and starlight in your eyes of blue”

When they sing ended you sighed, and Matt could faintly smell the salt of your tears in the air. He placed his paperwork aside, and cradled you in his arms.

“What’s with the water works Robin? Hmm?” He shushed you as you continued to sniffle.

“I don’t know, I just. I miss him. I miss dancing.”

You sighed and Matt’s heart ached as your tears soaked his collar.

You and Matt were a lot alike, you were both orphaned at a young age, you both lost a parent to murder, but where you differed was what happened after the fact. While Matt was sent to the orphanage, you were sent to live with your grandfather. He was a prickly old bastard, full of grunts and sarcasms, but you always loved him the best. He was the one who gave you that mean sense of humor, and when he died, you were devastated. He raised you as best he could, and you both filled in holes in each others lives. When your grandmother died, he became a ghost of himself, or so your dad said, but when you were born, he always claimed it was like having a mini version of her. You were his pride and joy. He was constantly smoking a pipe, the smell of cherry tobacco permeated all of his clothing, and you loved the smell. He had a big white bushy beard and long silvery hair. When you were little you believed him to be Santa clause, and he always played it up like he was. Your favorite memories of him though, were of those when you would dance.

He always would squeeze you tight and make

Noises as if you stepped on his foot, even when you didn’t, and he would hum the song under his breath. You really loved it when you would dance and he’d tell the story of how he met your grandmother.

“Me and your Nana? We met at a fall

Formal in college.” He would chuckle, spinning you around. “She was the most beautiful

Thing I’d ever seen, she was in this pink dress with white gloves, and I thought she was a fallen angle. Im sitting there, thumb up my ass, just staring at her. I couldn’t even remember if I had brought a date she was so beautiful. So this song, ‘Close To You’ by The Carpenters comes on, and I see she’s all alone, swaying to the music. In that moment, I decided that mo girl that damn beautiful should ever dance alone, and that if I had my way, I’d dance with that girl every night for the rest of my life. So, I walk up to her, and offer her my hand. She accepts, and two years later we were dancing to it at our wedding.” You would

Always smile, and tell him how you hoped you’d find a man who’d talk about you that way someday. He would always smile, spin you and plant a kiss to your hair, and repeat what he’d always say. “Sweetheart? If a man won’t dance with you, he’s not the marrying kind, and if he can’t dance? He better learn. You’re too pretty to not have somebody to dance with.” You lived with him for five years, and two years after you moved out he passed away. You missed him every day.

You relay all this to Matt, and he frowns contemplatively. He hadn’t realized how important this was to you. You continue to hold him and eventually you look up at him with a frown of your own. “What’s going on in that crazy head of yours devil man?” Matt too another second to contemplate. He didn’t know how to dance. It was shocking, but it was true. World class flirt and slut extraordinaire, Matthew Murdock, had never learned how to properly dance. He knew the stand and sway middle school slow dance thing, had done it a couple times. Serious slow dancing though? The opportunity has never really crossed his path. He didn’t really go to dances, he mostly mingled at galas, and because of his blindness, people generally (read: annoyingly) steered him from physical activity. This includes dancing. So he had never really mastered the skill.

“Teach me.” He says suddenly, and you stare at him confused.

“Teach you?” You question, “teach you what?”

“Teach me to dance. Your Grandfather was right, a girl like you deserved a dance partner, and I’m more than willing to oblige.” He gives you a boyish grin, and you squeeze him tightly.

“Oh Matty! That’s- yeah! Let’s do this!” You turn on a Frank Sinatra song, and you stand in front of Matt and show him where to put his hands. You take his calloused left hand, and place it on your waist, and you clasp his other hand in yours, putting him in the proper slow dancing stance. “Ok so you’re gonna-“ you show him how to lead, and he struggled a bit at first, stepping on your toes a time or two. He was scowling the whole time he was trying to get a hang of it, and you were pretty sure the harder he concentrated, the worse he got.

“Ok Matt. Jesus, I can hear your wheels spinning from here, it’s a foxtrot not nuclear physics.” You laughed and he released some of the tension, smiling at your amusement. “You know what? Think of it like… think of it like a boxing match!” He barked a laugh, and you smacked him over the head, “I’m being serious asshole, think of it this way. When you fight someone, you’re anticipating their movements, and leading them to your desired movements so you can beat them. Instead of knocking someone’s brains in, you need to anticipate what movement would best fit the songs rhythm, and leading your partner in the desired movements in order to stay on the beat.” Matt nodded, impressed. Surprisingly, that made a whole lot of sense. Once he finally gotten the hang of it, he was actually an amazing dancer.

“Wow Batman! You really do have skills!” You giggle, letting him waltz you around the room.

“Oh yeah! I mean, Bruce Wayne has to be dapper too.” Matt chuckles spinning you under his arm. “That, and if this is important to you, I want to pass it down to our daughter. Something to keep his memory alive.”

“Well, I’m one very happy Robin.” You grinned and captured Matt in a sweet kiss, the most thoughtful man alive that one.

You’re zapped out of your day dream by the oven signaling it was preheated. You sent a soft gaze Matt’s way as he continued to sway your now dosing little girl in his arms. Once dinner was in the oven, and she was settled on the couch, Matt gathered you back into his arms, and sang the lyrics of a sting song he had recently fallen in love with. He thought it perfectly described your relationship, and you couldn’t help but agree.

“In the streets around here

There was nobody tougher than me

I was quick with me fists and fast with me footwork as you can plainly see

But while fighting was useful for getting your way among the toughs of the town

Where you could hold sway

There had to be something that was better than this

I was 15 years old and I'd never been kissed

Well of course she'd ignore me, her friends would all sneer

At me bloody nose dripping and me cauliflower ear

For it's hard to convince in a romantic pose, with a lovely black eye and a broken nose

Where a girl is attracted to skills more refined than the pugilist's art, and so I inclined

To take meself serious as a modern romancer

And I secretly learnt all the moves of a dancer

Ye swing to the left, ye swing to the right

Keep your eyes on your partner, more or less like a fight

Ye just follow the rhythm, and ye keep to the beat

The important thing's never to look at your feet

Then a miracle happens, your mind's in a trance

Though the strategy's subtle, retreat and advance

It's all about attitude, all in your stance

Attention to detail, leaving nothing to chance

Which explains how the pugilist finally learned how to dance.”

You chuckled and kissed Matt on the cheek.

“Oh Batman, even with a broken nose you’d still steal my heart. Thanks for dancing with me.” You cuddled into him and Matt felt sunshine in his soul.

“For you Robin? Anything.”

Tags: @pbeckn26

[vaidehi-raghunatha]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! :3

Okay alright so here goes:

(Btw I've never thought of this before, I never really pondered on this question of the things that make me feel happy but still ig I'll give it a try)

1. BOOKS, BOOKS AND MORE BOOKS!! The first on the list, always, will remain books. I just cannot live without them, they're the bestest friends I've ever had, even more closer to me than my IRL friends actually. I remember my grandpa saying this one line to me always when I was young: that people don't just live their lives, they live their stories, stories that their destiny crafted for them, and since then I've always been hooked on to stories that intrigue me, inspire me, and fascinate me, so I'm someone who cannot live without books at all because I need to devour stories to survive lol, my sanity solely depends on how I dwell in my fantasies and dreams 24*7

2. Badminton 🏸!!! I never had a boyfriend or a love interest of any sort so I decided to fall in love with this sport instead lmao 🤣🤣🤣 but jokes aside, playing badminton is equivalent to breathing oxygen for survival at least for me, because this sport has taught me SO MUCH, even the limited amount of wisdom I have, is because of the millions of moments in time that I've dedicated to the game, badminton taught me to stay strong, to stay hopeful and to stay opportunistic lol. I made so many good friends in my journey of sporting, in fact I've visited half of India already thanks to the different national tournaments conducted periodically in different cities of the country, I owe so much to the game and ig I'll never be able to love a boy as much as I love this sport lmao 🤣🤣🤣 but yeah although I never got permission to pursue this sport professionally, I'm glad I at least got the opportunity to learn the skills and hone my talent in this field

3. My family: mom, dad, sistah and my pet German Spitz named Lucky, idk what I'd do without them 😭😭❤️❤️

4. Singing and dancing and poetry ARGHHHHH I WON'T SURVIVE IF I DON'T HAVE THESE IN MY LIFEEEEEE, penning short poems in Urdu, Hindi and English is a different level of luxury tbh, and who would not want to shuffle their legs and hands for a moment of bliss if there's a Krishna bhajan playing nearby? Who would not want to dance to the beat of the raindrops beneath the darkest of clouds to forget their miseries? Who would not want to hum to old retro duets of Lata ji and Kishore da if they hear it playing in some radio nearby? So u see, life without music, dance and poetry would obviously be equivalent to hell for anyone because these simple luxuries are what make life worth living

5. Idk what the heading for this should be, but.....amongst the top 5 things that make me happy, I absolutely have to mention this otherwise it would be dishonest on my part.

The biggest thing that gives me happiness is, seeing others laughing with a smile on their faces. There's so much of darkness and despair around us, isn't it? We try finding ways to get out of our traumas, our troubles, our battles, but what if there's no way out of it really? Don't they say that "struggle is the other name of life"?? We're born with our own personal destinies, our own ill fates and misfortunes, our own sufferings and burdens, and life is nothing but a constant process of making your way out of this mess, so sadness in a way is inevitable in everyone's life, but that doesn't mean happiness should be out of bounds right? U can find happiness in everything u see around you, everything that happens around you or what happens TO YOU, you just need to have the eyes to identify happiness and the heart to feel the bliss, as for me, I try finding happiness in other people's smiles, there are so many days when I have no reason to be happy, when I am constantly in a state of bad mood, but then when I help others out around me and see a smile on other's faces because of me, that's perhaps the happiest feeling I can ever experience, which is far more superior than all other sources of happiness I've described in the above 4 points. So perhaps "helping others out and making others smile around me" tops the list of "5 things that make me happy"

To everyone who came across this post, here's a happy hug 🫂✨ and the final thing I'd like to say is: I'M SOOOOO SOOOOO SOOOOO SOOOOO SOOOOO SORRY FOR SUCH A LONG POST PLEASE FORGIVE ME BUT I COULDN'T HELP IT SO PLEASE I'M SORRY IF MY LONG POST RUINED YOUR EYES

[myloveforhergoeson]

Lengthy comment left.

I make no apologies. ;)

oh my friend thank you so much!! literally just the sheer size of the comment in my email made my heart swell so so so much. i truly cannot put into words how much your support means to me :') thank you for giving me the space to share my story and talk about it all the time and taking precious time away from your day to dive into my content and share your thoughts <3

now, everything i have to say under the cut <3

"I love how Roxy was so excited when Gustavo mentioned going multiplatinum. Of course that would be her main focus. She's not interested in the sold out stadiums. She wants the awards."

yes!! while she's not worried about awards in the sense that collecting them means something in hollywood, its more about the reach of her music - someone nominating a song of hers for an award, what that implies about the impact and the effect of her words... good lord im crying just thinking about it 😭

"I love how you actually focused on another reason the New Town High song was a big deal - especially for Kendall. Being able to have one of his songs - preferably a love song - on his girlfriend's show would be a big deal for him. I actually wish the show focused on that angle a bit more."

thank you!! i know on here we like to joke about how season 3 and 4 kind of erase everyone's characterization from the first few seasons, but personally i've always felt this episode in particular also falls into that category. so weird for kendall to be a gustavo ass kisser, so i definitely needed to give him a reason if that's how i was going to write the story :)

kendall: write a song about love for my girlfriends show because im in love with her

roxy: what's that? you want to sing another song about my boyfriend?

"Okay, first of all, Storm in a Teacup or Rip-Off the Old Block are awesome song titles."

I'M TRYING SO HARD 😭 <- someone who could never be a songwriter. something early 2000s pop punk bands loved to do was take a common phrase and twist it into new meanings or make it punny or combine it with another phrase (i.e. i'm like a lawyer with the way i'm always trying to get you off) (i love you pete wentz) so that's my attempt at a small nod to her taking inspiration from the scene around her to write her music in minnesota <3 now that it's all pop, her content's shifted just a bit for more palatable and straightforward titles

"And I love the way she immediately starts thinking about what her dad used to do for her when she was sick and immediately apply it to James. It was a very sweet touch."

in my first draft james actually fought her a bit more about taking care of him because he really didn't want her to get sick! but when i was writing out the parts where she was taking care of him i was thinking 'she's 17 where did she learn all of this?' and there's only one person that could've been LMAO so i took their back and forth out and made it more narrative, glad you thought it was a sweet touch :)

"And I love how James fell asleep on her. Shows how comfortable he is with her. (Also, the falling asleep in the middle of a conversation... that's my dad sometimes - the only difference is James doesn't snore.)"

i regret to inform you james diamond does snore but i cut it out of the final drift. at the end of the chapter when james makes fun of her for being a double dipper the conversation was essentially

james: rox! gross!

roxy: you literally just kissed me with tongue? and don't act like you're so perfect - you literally snore so loud you big jerk

james: don't you ever imply that i snore again!

roxy: imply? i'm stating it as fact

which was not as good as what i came up with afterward hehe

"Hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus! Communication wins out in the end!"

😭 me when i project my communication issues onto my oc and then fix them 😭

"Why do I suddenly want Dak to appear again so Roxy can rub her newfound happiness in his face?"

i want dak to come back so bad (i say as the author of this story like i don't make the decisions) because i miss writing him aghhhh ! he will at some point some time eventually i just need to make up my mind about when. i have a few ideas but i'm not really married to any just yet. same with stephanie!! when will she return from the war!!!!!

"Oh. Then the jerks from Roxy's past had to come and ruin it. Once again, I shall like to offer my services in dealing with the douches. Maybe the guys and Gustavo could team up and destroy their career before it can even take off. Maybe something a la what they did to WayneWayne is in order..."

no comment. just love your ideas sm!

thank you so so so much again! <333