#i had like 8 different traits picked out but figured everyone would do the serious ones

[anya-chalotra]

[Speedrun! Local sorceress demonstrates why “swearing like a sorceress” is a better alternative to “swearing like a sailor” in the span of just three (3) minutes. Beats boyfriends ex and frenemy for title of Swearer of the Season.]

YENNEFER APPRECIATION WEEK Day Four ▸ Favorite Trait: Crude/Vulgar

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing x.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 8, 711

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

so here is the mini monster chap !! i know I said this was going to be a drabble series but I clearly got carried away LOL

anyways, no spoilers for this chap but I can say it's one of my favs that I've written and I think we see oc getting the comfort that she deserves (and needs!)

and also !! this is my first time updating a series on tumblr and it feels *exciting* hehe, I hope you enjoy this chapter c:

let me know your thoughts in my asks!! i'd love to hear what you think so far :3

all the love and I hope you're having a great

day/night/evening/afternoon wherever you are ❤️

“Open up!”

The only person that would opt to yell to get your attention than ring on your doorbell like a normal person would be Yena. And it helped that you immediately recognised her voice from the first syllable she uttered. That and you were currently moping in your living room with lactose-free ice cream, courtesy of Jimin that dropped it off a day ago when he heard that you were ‘sick’. Even if you hadn’t seen him face-to-face, you remember him softly hoping you’d get better.

You don’t know why she’s at your door, but you’re already on your feet to get her when you hear her begin to mutter curses directed at you behind the thin wood of your entrance.

“I can hear you!” You call.

“Well bitch then open the damn door!” She snaps.

You roll your eyes, and so far with the number of times you’ve hung out with her, it’s safe to say that the two of you were comfortable. You never knew how fun having a girl best friend was until you met Yena, and sure it’s only been a little under two weeks since you’ve gotten to know her through various messages and FaceTimes, but you feel like she’s your friend soulmate.

And when you expressed that to her over a FaceTime call a few nights back, you remember her gagging all while you flush and attempt to take it back. You know her candidly calling you bitch rather than your name was her saying she felt the same.

You pull the door open as she stands there with her eyes narrowed into slits, eyeing you up and down before she scrunches her nose.

“There’s a thing called a shower that you should look into. You look like a rundown version of long-haired Noah Beck.” She grimaces when she eyes you up and down.

You scowl. “You did not just compare me to him.”

She clicks her tongue before she shoves you aside by shoving a plastic bag of the takeout food into your arms and steps into your apartment.

Yena ignores the glare you shoot at the back of her neck when she looks around your living room, scrunching her nose like she was here to inspect your room than pay you a visit.

“Did someone die in here or was that just your will to live?”

You scoff. “Wow. Drag me.”

She waves you off before plopping onto your couch while you sigh, immediately heading to the kitchen to prep the food she brought over.

“For a moment I thought you were dead.” She confesses casually.

When you return with bowls and plates, with the cutlery to match—you give her a dry look before you’re taking your seat on the floor; attempting to hide your half-eaten tub of ice cream, which Yena immediately spots.

“So your first instinct was to yell at my door in hopes that I wasn’t actually dead?” You ask dryly.

She picks up your ice cream and grimaces at it, silently judging you for the flavour before she gives you a shrug.

“Yeah. I was hoping that your spirit would confer.”

You snort. “And the food?”

“A peace offering.” She tells you like it’s obvious.

You sigh, you loved Yena—you really did. She was all over the place and random, but it was a refreshing difference that you needed in your life from the usual law and order you often opted for.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern,” You tell her, pulling out a container to see your favourite lemon chicken as you eye her suspiciously. “But what brings you here? I told you I was sick.”

Yena scoffs. “And sick you are, bitch. What kind of sick person devours ice cream? Sure, you look the part but your diet says otherwise. Don’t think I didn’t see the empty packet of snickers in the trash.”

You scowl.

“I recovered yesterday.” You lie, taking a bite out of the chicken.

Yena rolls her eyes and you know she doesn’t believe you. She leans into your couch while she watches you eat, “Namjoon texted me that you may need some company.” At that, you choke.

Her eyes widen as you hit at your chest to get the food to go down, eyes still wide at her revelation.

“Why would he do that?” You cry.

“Girl, I know you’re not trying to deflect—you’re literally about to choke and die.”

You glare at her. “I’m fine.” You cough for good measure, then you’re levelling another serious gaze at her.

“I’m fine.” You reiterate with an emphasis on your state even though you were anything but. “I don’t know why the hell he thinks I need company.” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Yena’s face softens as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees while you avoid her gaze; idly poking at your food.

“I don’t know either, and you don’t need to tell me anything.” She says softly. “That’s all I’m here for. To be your company, whether you need it or not.”

You don’t know how much Namjoon told her over a text message, but you don’t think it’s much. Purely because he didn’t seem like a snitch and he was too respectful to ever let other people into the business that wasn’t his own. Even at the thought, you want to groan because you essentially lured him into thinking it was okay for him to kiss you while you were … you don’t even know what the fuck was happening anymore.

“I—” You say weakly, and all Yena does is offer you a comforting smile.

For some reason, the fact that she’s here right in front of you after you spent the day crying and feeling like your heart has been repeatedly stomped over with the addition of your rumination—it feels nice to have someone with you, even if it’s just their presence.

But the way she doesn’t look at you and expects something out of your conversation makes you feel even more overwhelmed, and that’s probably why the dam breaks.

Yena’s eyes widen as she immediately darts out to wrap her arms around you when you end up in violent sobs. You don’t know why you’re crying but you are, and you’re tired of hiding things, your feelings and your intent just to pretend like things were okay.

“It’s okay.” She strokes your hair and it feels warm, like a mother comforting a crying baby and you realise that this is what friends should feel like.

“N-no it’s n-not!” You cry into her shirt and it’s messy, but she doesn’t seem like she minds. Especially when she supports your pliable frame.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks softly, giving you a kind smile.

You sniffle, staring forward as you feel your eyes swell with the escalation of your tears.

“I don’t know.” You whisper.

She hums, “It’s okay not to know. You don’t need to know everything.”

“I’m just so tired, Yena.” You tell her in a hushed breath.

“Life is difficult.” She admits. “It’s natural to be tired.”

You’re thankful to hear that she doesn’t comfort you with blind optimism. She’s real and she acknowledges how shitty things may be, and frankly, you didn’t need another wannabe altruist telling you that things will get better. You knew that, everyone did. But when you’re at rock bottom and all you see is darkness, you’re not looking for better. You’re looking for a reason to continue.

“Can I say something?” She asks. The way she looks at you is soft and open, and non-judgemental. You feel safe.

You nod your head, teary eyes staring up at her.

“You’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings except your own.” She looks at you so seriously that you nearly feel your breath escape. “There are things that you can and cannot control—and the latter usually falls under the people around you.”

You suck in a breath, and you wonder how she’s so spot on without ever touching on the true context.

“Namjoon texted me but I didn’t come here because he asked me to. It’s because you deserve to have someone be around you when you’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m—”

“You’re not.” She blinks, and you almost pout at her firm tone. “And that’s okay. I don’t need to know what happened to justify how you feel. You could’ve stubbed your toe and feel like absolute shit and I have absolutely no right to judge you on how or when you feel emotions.”

You wonder where she’s been your entire life and why she was only in your life now.

“But the thing is,” She sighs. “You don’t always have to choose between something or the other. Sometimes you need to choose yourself.”

You stare up at her in awe because Yena was cool in general, her laidback and unbending personality was mainly what drew you to her because you’d argue you were the opposite. Even if Jungkook’s words stung, you could take it at face value and accept that it was true.

You were uptight and you were a bit of a prude, and for the longest time, you always resented that aspect of you. But you realised with Yena, she had traits that were resented in a woman as well. And you realise that you’d never be perceived the way you want unless you perceive yourself in a positive light first.

So when she speaks to you so sternly, yet with a tone of care as she picks apart her words so carefully—you realise what you have to do.

“I think I like Jungkook.”

Yena pauses for a brief second, but you don’t see any judgement in her face. Just confusion, a warranted emotion you don’t blame her for having.

“I figured as much.”

Your eyes widened, “How—?”

It’s almost like a repeat of the first night at the football game when you befriended each other, but she only shoots you a gentle smile.

“Call it a woman’s intuition.”

You blink, fiddling with your fingers before you stare up at her, continuing your drawls.

“And we kissed.”

At this, Yena cocks an eyebrow up, “Was this recent?”

You fiddle with your thumbs before you sigh and push yourself up.

“Thing is …” You mumble, “I’m not like that.”

You don’t answer her question because you can’t think of a proper enough response to tell her that yeah—you did kiss him, amongst other things that you foolishly allowed yourself to indulge in. You knew Yena wasn’t judgemental but you also knew that you couldn’t retrieve your words the moment they left your mouth. It was your own judgement that stopped you from saying the things you really wanted and it sucked, royally. Because you could tell that Yena wasn’t out here to crucify you for being … liberated. She just wanted to be there for you.

Yena scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she allows your words to settle, pondering a response.

She settles for a huff, “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t … do things like that.” You say softly. “I’m shy and quiet. I’m not active in the social sphere and I only have three friends that I can reach out to if I wanna hang out. But even then, I don’t … I don’t like partying, or drinking, or loud spaces. I’m awkward and horrible at social interaction let alone being able to navigate my romantic feelings. And … I felt so bad about it.”

Yena’s eyes soften, but you can’t look at her just yet. Not when this is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself vulnerable, emotionally that is, to someone that wasn’t just the confines of your thoughts.

“I always wondered what it’d like to be confident, to be liked on campus and not just be known as the smart girl.” You whisper. “My entire personality was built around my achievements and I didn’t know what else to do. What if … what if I peak here and fail after?” Your eyes are wide in despair, and you feel your lips quiver when you speak.

“You’ll never know.” Yena reminds you gently. “You won’t know who likes you or what people say about you—but you’re going to be hearing your own thoughts 24/7 and that’s what kicks you down or drives you further.”

You sigh, nodding your head.

“It’s just … Jungkook and I were close. We grew up together even if he’s younger than me. But we just got along well and he … he saw me. He used to comfort me whenever I’d tell him how pressuring it got and—I feel so stupid because he probably says that to everyone and I fell for it.” You chuckle with no emotion, staring at the stray thread poking outside of your couch pillow.

“Have you spoken to him about your feelings?” She asks softly.

Immediately, you scoff and the sour emotion peaks through again.

“He’s made it clear what he wants to hear from me.” You mutter.

Yena purses her lips before resting her hands gently on your shoulder.

“You’re not answering my question, ______.” She chides gently.

You nibble on your bottom lip and shake your head. That earns a sigh from her as she wraps her arms around you once again, resting her chin on your shoulder as you allow yourself to feel the comfort of her warmth.

“He kissed me first and we did things together.” Your lips quiver when you recall the memories, “A-And he’s with Jennie. I just …” You flutter your eyes shut, “I don’t want to say that I’m the other girl but I feel a lot like a second option and it sucks.”

Yena doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to justify why you felt the way you did, so she holds you tighter.

“Babe.” She gently turns you to look at her with both hands resting on your shoulders. “Did you talk to him? Properly? Do you really know if he’s with her?”

“I think them kissing proves enough to me.” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re being so hostile, especially to Yena.

She purses her lips, “You kissed him and you aren’t together.”

You wince and she shoots you an apologetic look. She sighs before reaching out to squeeze your hand, all while you stare at the ground to level out your emotions.

“I’m not saying that you can’t feel the way you do. But I’m offering objectivity here. Men are … they’re blunt creatures and that’s the biggest difference between men and women.” You furrow your eyebrows as she takes a deep breath before she continues. “And the idea that we’re equal? No, we’re not. I’m not talking about our systemic positions in society but on an emotional level. Men take things surface value and work with it, they don’t stop to think about the layers of feelings that go into interpersonal relationships with friends, family or lovers. Women? We go big or we go home. All we see is the big picture and sometimes the little details get lost in translation. This isn’t me justifying Jungkook playing home with you or Jennie at the same time, but offering you a perspective that may be hard for you to see because you aren’t him.”

It was true, and you hated yourself for being aware but not putting action based on your own thoughts. Yena only reaffirmed the idea that you overthought every single interaction and maybe that was why you were the one that was hurting.

That, or you and Jungkook had horrible communication problems that neither of you was ready to face just yet. But how could you? When the two of you were on two different wavelengths and you were trying to be just enough for him while he was jumping off pedestals to see you.

It didn’t feel nice, and it sucked because he was the same person that comforted you and broke you all at once.

“I’m scared.” You whisper.

She smiles at you gently, patting your head gently as you peer up at her with tears between your lashes.

“And that’s okay.” She reassures you with a soft voice, “The only thing scarier than being scared is not feeling at all.”

Before you go to where your heart tells you to—your mind is the only thing that keeps you rooted in some form of rationale. That’s probably why you’re outside of Namjoon’s dorm. You don’t think you’ve ever paid his place a visit despite him telling you his address on multiple occasions, usually opting to hang out in public yet serene places where you were able to get a breather.

Your feet feel heavy and your fist is raised, but it barely moves. Especially when you’re just eyeing his door like a deer caught in headlights. You’ve rehearsed the apology on your tongue a million times, even if you don’t really know what you’re apologising for. But you feel like you must, particularly because you’ve senselessly let him see all of the feelings that you were trying to suppress in hopes of retaining the same ones he had for you.

You take a deep breath and deliver the first knock, the vibrations making your arm feel weak.

But you’re tired of always surrendering to bigger and more frightening things that you could understand. So you purse your lips and play the waiting game.

It seems like a long twenty minutes that you wait, but in reality, it’s only two when the door swings open. You brace yourself to see Namjoon, apology already sitting on your tongue.

You should’ve dropped a text, you knew that. But you decided against it because you haven’t spoken to Namjoon since what happened a few days ago. Neither of you speaking about the kiss or the way your eyes glistened when you saw Jungkook and Jennie together.

“____?” He asks confusedly.

You give him a meek smile, “Hi. Can I come in?”

He blinks at you, and you notice he still has his glasses that he usually forgoes during the times you’ve hung out—and you feel a little guilty for catching him at a bad time.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”

Namjoon steps aside and you’re welcomed into the space of his living room. The first thing you notice is the interior, and how … Namjoon it was. It’s both cluttered and neat, the palette of his furniture matching the overall vibe he emanated. His furniture is mostly wood, light sandalwood that makes it feel all the homier.

And you tell him such, “You have a very homey place.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you right before he plops himself back onto his couch where you see the bits and pieces of paper scrambled across the floor and the couch. Even then, he was able to look so welcoming even though you reckon he has a right to be hostile—for a reason you came here to apologise for.

“Thank you.” He flushes, patting a spot in front of him for you to take your seat.

When you settle, the atmosphere turns strained when you mull over your words so that you wouldn’t stumble over them. You practised, you did—about a hundred times before you came here and you thought you were ready to apologise and put things behind you but it’s proven difficult when all he does is look at you in earnest.

“Not that I—uh—mind,” He mumbles, “But is there a reason why you’re here?”

You blink at him as you ignore the quiver in your heart.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt.

“_____ why are you—”

“You didn’t deserve what happened the other day.” You interject, voice soft but unwavering when you force yourself to look at him as his eyes widen.

“I wasn’t the one that saw something I shouldn’t have.” He reminds you with a frown.

You swallow, “I kissed you. And you …” It wasn’t helping that he was looking at you so gently as he awaits your continuation. “You didn’t need to save me back then, Namjoon.” You end in a whisper.

Namjoon reaches out to grab your shoulder, touch gentle as he searches for your eyes.

“I didn’t save you …” He tells you tenderly.

“It’s not just that!” You exasperate while you throw your hands up in the air. “I-it’s everything … from the way you treat me and the way you look at me. You didn’t need to do any of that and you even—” You trail off, fluttering your eyes shut. “—what did you say to Jungkook right before we left?”

Namjoon’s eyes enlarge as his grip becomes tense against your shoulder. You can almost see the way his mind kicks into gear as he thinks of a response.

“That—I—does it matter?” He huffs.

Your eyes soften, “Namjoon.” You force yourself to look at him even if now he was the one that tries to avoid your gaze. “What did you say?”

Namjoon tightens his lips before he sighs deeply, head dropping forward before he looks at you.

“I told him to be honest.” He says softly.

You furrow your eyebrows, “To be honest …?”

“I know you have feelings for him.”

Your face blanches when Namjoon basically exposes you. It’s one thing for you to be self-aware of your complicated feelings towards the other boy. But when someone else points it out, especially when it’s Namjoon—the boy who’s been nothing but kind and patient with you while you’re too busy being caught up in your emotions—it’s like a slap across your face.

“I-I don’t—”

“You don’t need to lie to save my face, ______.” He chuckles dryly, eyes darting away as he tries to neutralise his expression. You wince at the spite he establishes, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t angry at you. No, he was far too understanding to be. Disappointed? Frustrated? Sure, but never angry,

The silence answers for you when you look away this time, eyebrows scrunched as you attempt to navigate the conversation. You came here to apologise, and to be honest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath as you flinch. “Don’t … apologise.” He sighs.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Namjoon.” You murmur apologetically.

He shoots you a half-hearted chuckle, “You didn’t do anything. Really.”

“But I did, Namjoon. I kissed you back.” You frown.

“That doesn’t imply anything. I kissed you, and you reciprocated. We all kiss someone and not mean anything by it.”

You flinch, and you’re familiar with that more than anyone else. The reminder only stings because it makes you realise that you were not much different from Jungkook, the same person you’ve claimed to have messed with you and fucked you over.

“I’m—”

“Please don’t apologise anymore.” He says. “I already feel like shit.”

You smile sadly at him, “How do you manage to be so nice even when other’s do you wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, then he grabs both your hands in his. “You didn’t wrong me, _____. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way I do.”

“How did you …” You trail off.

“How did I know you had feelings for Jungkook?” He chuckles. “The same way he knew I had feelings for you.”

You purse your lips, eyes dropping to your lap. “It’s not that simple, Namjoon …” You say softly.

Namjoon smiles at you gently, “Is it?” He gently nudges your knee with his so that you’d look at him. “Life is simple. It’s not easy. But it’s simple.”

You scoff even if a small smile teases your lips, “You really are a philosophy major, aren’t you?”

The two of you grin in tandem before he purses his lips, possible mulling over something before he faces you.

“The two of you are close so … why beat around the bush?”

Your eyes flutter shut, shaking your head. “Like I said, it’s really not that simple.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s not to mock or taunt you. Namjoon simply sees a naive, yet an intelligent girl who doesn’t see what’s right in front of her.

“Remember what I said? I’m a simple guy.” He reminds you, lips in a grin. “Try me.”

You snort, but you’re still nervous. You still remember that he has feelings for you, so you’re hesitant. And he immediately recognises the guilt-ridden expression that you mar.

Namjoon shoots you a stern glare, “Don’t overthink it.”

You sigh.

“Jungkook and I …” You start, fiddling with your thumbs. “We grew up together.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and shoots you another one of his bland stares. “I know the history. I just want to know why?”

You furrow your brows, “Why?”

“Why the two of you insist on being so emotionally constipated.”

You gape at his audacity, and you’re glad the atmosphere isn’t as tense because Namjoon simply snickers at your reaction.

“I am not—!”

He waves you off, “Really?” He adds dryly.

You purse your lips and relent, even if you didn’t want to agree with him—you knew that he was … right. To a certain extent.

“We kissed.” You blurt.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “That’s not surprising.”

You shoot him a dry look before he raises his hands in defence.

“He was my first kiss.”

At this, Namjoon’s widen.

“When you were in high school?” He pries.

You flush, embarrassed that you had to tell him otherwise.

“Two months ago.” You mutter.

Namjoon splutters, and you can’t help but glare at him when he quite literally chokes on his spit. You know you caught him off guard, but him rubbing salt in the wound that’s relatively fresh makes you scowl.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. Then he repeats, “Oh.”

You scoff, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Then … what happened?” You know he’s treading carefully with you when he asks you his question softly.

You purse your lips, and you recall every single moment you’ve shared with him. From giggles to hushed kisses, to intimate touches and sweat-stained sheets that have you gasping for air. You remember it all, and they meant … they meant the world to you, but just a speck in his memory.

“Things escalated and we … did stuff together.” You wince.

Namjoon nods in understanding, he gestures his hands around, “Like—”

“I’m a virgin.”

Namjoon blinks.

“And for the longest time, I felt embarrassed about it.”

“Oh.”

“I struggled to find my footing between being sexually liberated and being a woman because for the longest time I thought those two were mutually exclusive. For me, at least.” You say softly.

Namjoon only stares at you.

“And I always wanted validation from someone else to tell me that what I was doing was the right thing to do. Or the supposed thing to do. Never what I really wanted to do.”

“Not that I’m uncomfortable but … why are you letting me in on this?” Namjoon asks with a raised brow.

“Because I want to do something for myself for once.” You whisper.

“Okay …?”

“Why do you like me? Even if I’m … boring and not as sexy as other women?”

You sound pathetic, and the first person you find yourself comparing yourself to is Jennie—a beautiful, confident woman who looked so assured in herself.

“You’re not—”

You groan.

“Namjoon.”

“Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re asking me if I care that you’re a virgin, then no. I really don’t. Because frankly, that concept to me is false and problematic. Whether or not you’ve had sex or not isn’t any of my business.”

You duck your head.

“And I like you because you’re interesting. You’re funny and you’re assured in your own way. You don’t need to be a certain standard of pretty or sexy or whatever for me to like you. I like you because of the time we’ve spent together and that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you and not the person I admired from afar but the girl who throws in jokes out of nowhere but fits so well with the situation. The girl who’s willing to spend three extra hours of her time to help with content that wasn’t prescribed to her. I like you because I’d like to think I’ve grown to understand who you are.”

Namjoon says all of those things while staring at you straight in the face and you feel compelled to cry. Because no one has ever been so honest with you and you hate that your heart can’t reciprocate what should be an easy feeling that comes naturally.

“Fuck.”

His eyes widen.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He coos, a hand petting your hair gently as you sniffle.

“It’s not, Namjoon. Everything sucks because everything is so complicated. Why can’t I just have feelings for you instead?”

It’s selfish, and Namjoon winces. But you’re so overwhelmed that you miss it, and Namjoon is too nice to point his own feelings out.

“You don’t pick and choose your battles, _____.” He murmurs softly.

“That’s not what my mom told me.” You whimper.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Most people like to believe that because it makes them think that they have a choice over the bad things that happen in their lives. But in reality? They don’t. No one decides what happens to them. You pick and choose how you react to things. How you deal with situations and what you make out of those situations is what you can choose to do. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to just because I’m nice to you, _____. Being nice is the absolute bare minimum and something that everyone should feel and do.”

Your face crumbles, “Why are you so wise?”

Namjoon smiles, “I’m not. It’s called offering a different perspective. Just because I see things one way doesn’t make me any better than you who sees things in another. That’s why we meet different types of people throughout our lives. The good, the bad, the in-between. There’s always something people offer to us in the midst of chaos.”

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

He pats your head, “I said don’t apologise.”

“No, but I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you picked up a shitty situation to be in when Jungkook and Jennie were at the library. Even right after I kissed you. That was … a horrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done that just because—just because I was confused … you don’t deserve that.”

He doesn’t look angry, and that’s even worst because you want him to react, to call you a bitch and say that you were a horrible person.

“I don’t.” He shrugs while you wince. “But a lot of the times we don’t deserve a lot of things that we get. And that’s okay. You did what you thought was justified then, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But you’re hurting too, and you’re confused—that’s what drove you to do the things that you did, and even here. That’s why you’re apologising to me, right? Because you’re not as confused anymore?”

You shake your head.

“I am, I’m still so confused.” You whisper.

“Then let me offer you another perspective.”

You look up to him with big eyes as he smiles at you gently.

“You have feelings for Jungkook.” You immediately flinch, even if he didn’t hit you. But Namjoon continues. “You’re trying to keep the picture as simple as you can even if it hurts you in the process. But

“You don’t understand, Namjoon … we … did things … that I’m not proud off …”

“You don’t have to—”

“He was my first kiss. My first … sexual experience. Even if it was just … third base,” You cringe, but Namjoon isn’t judging you at all. “A-and that’s all I was to him. An experience.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do I, Namjoon?” You say softly. “He said things to me that were so hurtful. And a stupid part of me forgives him but it still hurts every time I think about it and when I see him with Jennie.”

You whisper the words Jungkook’s said to you, and for the first time, you see Namjoon’s jaw harden. The most emotion that wasn’t rationale you’ve seen in Namjoon ever since you first arrived.

“I know it hurts.” He murmurs, holding you close. “And I really don’t want it to seem like I’m justifying his words … but would you want to hear me out?”

You purse your lips and nod nevertheless.

“Jungkook isn’t a bad person.” You blink, you never thought he was. “I know you don’t think he is but you want to. Because of the things he’s said to you because why would a good person say those kinds of things, right? But the world isn’t black and white like that. There’s a grey area where 99% of the population falls into because we operate on emotion and sometimes we say things that we may feel but not necessarily believe in.”

“Jungkook … he’s still young. And I know we’re in college and stuff but he’s still three years younger than I am and two years younger than you. He’s spoken to me about how hard it was to adjust to a high school life where you, Jimin and Tae weren’t a part of. And I don’t know about you but if the only friends I’ve ever known suddenly left because they had to … I wouldn’t know what to do either. He was at a point in his life where his environment played a huge part in the values and internalised beliefs he had.”

You look away as you reflect on his words, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“He mixed around with different groups of people, and I hate this saying but it’s still a common belief to many—especially people his age, almost out of high school. But the ‘boys will be boys’ mentality is more than just misogyny and sexism, but a culture where it feeds off complacency and peer pressure. Jungkook suddenly had to shift from three, good friends who were progressive and influential in an objectively good way to people he was obliged to like because they were his peers.”

You gape at him, purely because you knew that Namjoon was smart and wise but his introspection leaves you breathless and enlightened.

“But that doesn’t change the core of Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “He’s still Jungkook. He doesn’t know how to ask for things that he wants without feeling like he’s betraying his masculinity. And again, I’m not justifying his actions because he’s a grown man too. But he’s lost, and the only thing he knows to uphold this sense of masculinity is by being sexually liberated. Even if he conflates his own emotions with his endeavours.”

“I … I don’t even know what to say Namjoon.” You murmur, eyes looking up through your lashes.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to be honest to yourself, not anyone else. But yourself.” He tells you, carding a gentle hand over your head.

You fiddle with your thumbs.

“What do you want?”

Despite you confiding two different people, you find yourself at a convenience store at 12AM, scarfing down ramen from a cup noodle because your mind was a funny place when it was muddled with a hundred different thoughts. You knew sleep wasn’t an option for you either, and you were hungry. But somehow you didn’t have anything back in your apartment that screamed ‘I’m in a crisis’ enough for you to eat.

Which is why you’re here, while the cashier keeps his eyeball to himself when he sees yet another college student who’s probably having their third mental breakdown of the day.

It is, but not for the right reasons, you think dryly.

You think you’re alone until the chime of the bell momentarily distracts you and you turn your head to acknowledge the next lone customer who may be going through their own set of issues, or had a fucked up sleeping schedule.

But you’re not expecting to make eye contact with Jennie, out of everyone or any stranger you could’ve come across.

She spots you, shoots you a weird look that has you nearly choking on a string of noodles before she moves on to what she came here to do and stops at the snack section, skimming through her options before she settles on a pack of shrimp chips. Your heart churns because they were Jungkook’s favourite. You don’t want to wonder why she picked them.

You turn to your noodles, scarf them down some more because you want to eat your thoughts away even if you’re half-considering to call Jungkook, tell him you wanted to talk. But you knew that if you spoke to him now when you were still sorting out your thoughts, you’d end up in a situation you won’t be ready to deal with.

So when you poke at your food and sigh to yourself, you almost miss the way the stool beside you scrapes against the floor as you cringe.

You turn to shoot a petty glare at the person, and you see Jennie; casually tearing open her chips and popping one into her mouth

You blink at her, and you’re left even more speechless when she juts her hand out as if to offer you a shrimp cracker. Like it was a weird symbol of a truce. Even if you weren’t really … enemies.

“Want some?”

You stare at her, and before you can think twice your lips are moving.

“The crackers or your company?” You say dryly.

Her eyes widen, and so does yours. You didn’t expect to say your exact thoughts and you don’t think she expected a quiet, timid girl like you to have said that—out loud at least. Like Yena said, everyone has a mean bone in them. Some longer and larger than others, but they were still there.

“Wow.” She huffs, but she doesn’t seem offended. “Rude, much?”

You wince and feel compelled to apologise. “Sorry.”

She waves you off and you feel odd to be sitting next to her. You always expected her to be more malicious, a lot more of a bitch. And you frown to yourself because you suppose it’s your own preconceived notions of her due to the association she has with Jungkook that had you thinking of her that way.

“What’s someone like you doing here on a weekday?” She asks off-handedly.

The term ‘someone like you’ doesn’t sit well with you, and you scowl.

“I’m eating. What does it look like?” You retort, and Jennie only raises an eyebrow at your response. Much like an angry kitten.

“Damn, I was just asking.” She mutters under her breath, “I’m hungry. Needed a snack.” She shakes the crackers in front of you, “You sure you don’t want one?”

You can’t believe her as you gape at her easy-going state when she thrusts the bag of crackers into your face yet again.

“No.” You furrow your brows, gently pushing it away as she shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s good.” She reasons, and you don’t know why she’s so adamant about having you take one.

The irrational part of you thinks she wants to poison you, to eliminate you for good so she won’t have to deal with your pathetic pining over a person that wasn’t even yours.

“I know.” You mutter. “I tried it before.”

Jennie nods her head slowly, observing the content of the packet on the back before she turns to face you, “Jungkook introduced this to me. Didn’t see the appeal but it’s addictive.”

You freeze, and your ramen soup is getting cold with the way you haven’t prodded at it for a while and in the air-conditioning in the convenience store. You feel your stomach drop, especially now that your initial suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s nice.” You grit. It really isn’t.

“Did he introduce it to you?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

Why you’re still talking to her, or why she was bothering to talk to you when she’s ignored you all this while—you aren’t sure. But you still answer her despite the spite that forms in your chest.

“I introduced it to him.” You inform.

She hums, unbothered. It only irritates you more.

“Is there a reason?” You huff. “Why you’re here?”

She raises an eyebrow, “I’m hungry?”

You scoff. “No.” You slam the table ever so slightly because even if you were annoyed and confused, you weren’t that brave and you didn’t want to cause a scene at a convenience store at midnight. “Why are you here. Talking to me.”

Jennie blinks at you, then stares at you for seconds too long that you flush under her unwavering stare before she ends up in a fit of giggles. You almost think she’s here to mock you, to call you out on your pathetic and humiliating pining for someone who doesn’t care about you the same way you do to him. But she pats you on the shoulder, and you want to think it’s condescending but it doesn’t seem that way at all.

“You’re an acquaintance. You looked like you needed the company.”

You frown, “I don’t.”

She rolls her eyes, munching on another chip.

“You do. Your posture looks depressing.”

“Excuse me?” You scowl.

“It’s true.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem the type to be here wallowing unless it’s really bad. You seem like you have your shit together.”

And because your mind is already muddled and confused, and filled with irrational thoughts. Her words set you off, and you seem to be underrating or overreacting more than usual. So you snap, you shove your cup aside that the soup nearly sloshes out and send her a glare so blazing that Jennie’s caught off guard.

“And you think you know me well enough to gauge whether or not I’m ‘like this’ or the type to have a perfect mental breakdown regimen because I’m smart?” You seethe. Jennie’s eyes widen. “I have mental breakdowns like every other student and I binge eat when I’m stressed and I fuck up from time to time. I curse, yes! I see your face. Oh does she not curse? Well, look at me, bitch. I can curse like a motherfucking sailor at sea when the fishes come because I’m human. I’m just like you. So fuck off with your ‘you seem like you have your shit together’ because I don’t and I’m so fucking annoyed with your stupid face whenever I see it because it only reminds me of Jungkook!”

The silence is defining, even the cashier stops counting his bills for the night because you don’t hear the rubbing of money together. You feel his stare on your back, and more pressingly, you feel Jennie’s shocked expression linger on your face, and now that you’ve come down from your rage. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

You don’t even recall what you said, except for the fact you’ve mentioned her and Jungkook in the same sentence. And your face pales.

“I …” She chokes.

You flush, before you’re turning away, snatching your belongings to leave and forget this convenience store and never return because you don’t think you can show your face here ever again.

But before you’re able to make a run for it, a hand grabs your elbow that stops you from moving any further.

“This is already as embarrassing—” You exasperate, trying to snatch your arm away.

“For a girl so smart, you’re really dumb, aren’t you?” She deadpans.

You gape, finding enough strength to retrieve your arm as you stare at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“Excuse me—?”

“Firstly, let’s unpack what you just said because there are a lot of things that need to be dissected here.” She says blankly.

You scowl, “Look I don’t—”

“One.” She blinks as if she was doing a presentation for a course and not talking to an alleged acquaintance. “I don’t think you should act a certain way just because you’re smart. You’re entitled to your own mechanisms and I’m not judging you for them. I was simply pointing out my own observations, and I’m sorry for being insensitive.”

You’re stunned to silence, because did Jennie just … apologise to you?

“Two.” She says. You listen silently. “I think you have things you need to talk to Jungkook about, and frankly—I would’ve stayed away if I knew that the two of you were a thing.”

“We’re not a thing!” You cry, face flushed.

She shoots you an unimpressed look, “Really. So that oddly targeted blow-up was because of your mental breakdown and not because you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?”

She’s the third person to call you out the same day, or within the first one in the next. And it’s even more embarrassing because it’s the girl you’ve compared yourself to countless times because of your own insecurities.

“Yes.” You snap childishly.

Jennie sighs, gesturing for you to sit on the stool. You want to defy her out of spite, but you’ve already gotten this far into the conversation and you feel like you’d miss out on something if you left now.

“Why are you mad at me?” She asks.

“I-I’m not mad—” You weakly protest.

“You are. There’s anger in you and if it’s not directed to Jungkook then it’s directed to me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

Your eyes widen, “What—?”

“Let me reword that,” She sighs. “Is it because I’m the woman with Jungkook?”

You flinch at her declaration, especially since she indirectly confessed to being with him, while you weren’t.

“I don’t …” You trail off in a whisper.

“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She says. “But I need you to understand that I would never have done anything with him if I knew that the two of you were together.”

“We’re not.” You blink, and her unimpressed look is still there that makes you speak a little louder. “We’re not together.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. You see her furrow her eyebrows before she settles for a response that comes a few moments after.

“Okay, then if you’re not together then why the resentment?” She puts it so simply and now that you’re listening to her, you feel a lot stupider.

“I just …” You croak, fiddling with your fingers, “I don’t …”

She sighs, “Listen. We’re both women here. I know how it feels to be left in the dark when it comes to things like this but there’s no point in being angry at me when in reality it’s Jungkook you need to talk to. If you aren’t together then I don’t understand why you’re angry with me—or with him.”

You sit there in silence, nearly pouting like a scolded child.

“You’re his type.” You say softly.

Jennie pauses before she raises an eyebrow.

“And you believe that?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, of course?” You mumble, “You’re pretty, confident and sexy. Any guy would like you.”

For a moment, you think you’ve said too much. Looked to vulnerable. But Jennie doesn’t do the typical mean girl thing where she laughs in your face and threatens to expose you. Instead, her eyes soften, and her hand reaches out to hold yours.

“____.” She calls your name gently, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You are sexy.”

You flush, “No. I’m not.”

She scoffs, “_____, there isn’t a set definition of what a pretty woman is like. Nor is there a one-dimensional understanding of a confident woman. There are confident women who strut in their walk and commands all the attention in the room. But there are also quiet, assured women who are intelligent and confident in their capabilities. Both of them are so different, but the one thing that they have in common?” She prompts as your eyebrows furrow. “They’re both women who are worthy of love.”

You blink up at her when her tone goes softer.

“I don’t think I’m Jungkook’s type.” She tells you.

But for some reason you need to deny it, again.

“I think you are.” You mumble, “You’re … you. And you’re probably … experienced.” You cringe at what you say, and you’re mortified if you need to explain yourself to her. But Jennie immediately picks up on it, and you don’t notice how she tenses for a split second but recovers immediately.

“We’ve done things together, yes.” You feel your heart shatter, “But you don’t have to do anything with him for him to like you.”

You sigh, “Maybe. But that's the only way he’s ever wanted me.” You say so softly that Jennie almost doesn’t catch it.

Jennie’s face softens much more, turning into a much gentler expression as she nudges your chin to look at her. And when you do, you feel wounded. You feel so much less assured than you were when you were raging at her. You hated it, how she treated you so kindly when she should’ve been cursing at you like you did to her.

“Do you want to know something?” She asks.

You nibble on your lips before you nod your head.

“If someone doesn’t want you. It’s not because you’re lacking. It’s because they’re lacking the sense to perceive you in a way that recognises your inherent worth to be loved.”

Your breath hitches and Jennie continues.

“I’ve had instances where men didn’t want to sleep with me because I was too confident, too sexually liberated for them. As if who I slept with mattered because it wasn’t them. It was never going to be them.”

“I didn’t sleep with Jungkook.” You tell her, voice soft as if you needed to clarify.

“And you don’t need to. You don’t need to sleep with anyone for them to want you. If Jungkook only wants you for your body then he doesn’t deserve you.” She points out.

You feel your heart clench, and the realisation coming from Jennie only hurts even more.

“But he’s important to me …” You whisper.

“What’s important is not always what’s good for you.” She informs you with a gentle smile. “Your sexuality is yours. And if you want to sleep or be sexual with someone, you do it because you want to. Not because someone coerced you into doing it.”

Your eyes widened, “N-No. Jungkook didn’t force me. I consented. To all of it.” You murmur, “I wanted to do it. B-But I just felt so … lacking? In comparison and … since then all he’s came to me for was just … that.”

Jennie nibbles on her bottom lip, “Jungkook’s not a bad person.” She says softly. And she’s the second person that tells you that. So you know it’s a true reflection of his character.

“I know.”

She smiles, “We both do.” She nods, “But he’s misguided. He’s never had the ability to be with someone he really cares for and I think when that happened—he dealt with it the only way he knows how to.”

You furrow your brows, “But he’s with you.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle, “No. Not emotionally, at least.” She informs. “And he doesn’t care about me. I know. He’s always kept me at arms-length away, and I’m fine with that because I don’t like him like that either.”

You blink, and your ears turn red. “H-How do you—?”

“How do I separate lust from affection?” She laughs. “It’s because I can. Not everyone can do that, and Jungkook is one of them.”

“But you just said that he didn’t care about you.”

“I’m not talking about me,” She smiles sadly.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion until you realise what she was implying. And you don’t want to assume anything, never. Because hope was the one feeling that was worse than fear and you didn’t want to subject yourself to that just yet.

“Oh.” You mumble.

She nods, squeezing your hand.

“I think he misses you.”

You purse your lips.

You missed him, too.

[oikawaplssteponme]

• MASTERLIST

pairing: (prince) Oikawa Toru x (princess) fem! reader

warnings: none

word count: > 2k words

synopsis: A childhood lover, a perfect picture, a thoughtful risk, a dashing spark, a resurfaced fling, a beautiful mystery, and an unlikely charmer. With so many flowers in the garden, which do you pick?

a/n: hello hello! ahh im very excited to share this first part with you all! this one is a bit longer [ most parts won’t be this long ] but that’s because there is important background info since it is the first part :)) i’d love to hear your thoughts and reblogs are also greatly appreciated! enjoy xx

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ: ☾

Confidence is Key

The castle was bustling with people, entering in and out at a fast pace. The chatter bounced off of the walls and high ceilings as orders were being shouted of where to take things and what to do. You stood in the middle of it all, unsure what to do with yourself. The room was spinning, your head was spinning. In just a few hours, music would be playing as people danced the night away. In just a few hours, you would meet a potential husband.

“Your Grace! You should be getting ready! We have things under control down here don’t worry. Go, go!” Sophia, head of castle affairs, shooed you away. She was clearly under an uncomfortable amount of stress.

“Is there anything you’d like me to help with? I don’t have to get ready quite yet,” you explained. Sophia shook her head violently.

“No no not at all Your Highness. You really must go get ready, Anita is awaiting your arrival,” she insisted. You sighed and did as you were told. You walked up the grand staircase and up to your quarters.

You didn’t mind helping, you often did when you could. Nonetheless, your role as princess called you other such duties. Those included getting ready for the ball in a different way.

“Oh there you are! I’ve been searching the whole castle for you!” exclaimed Anita. Anita was your lady-in-waiting. She was also your best friend.

“My apologies, I got caught up in the excitement of everything that was happening downstairs,” you explained. You laid down onto your bed, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“I don’t want to go tonight,” you admitted. Anita sat down next to you.

“The ball is for you after all. It would be quite silly if you didn’t show up to your own event,” she chuckled.

“No more complaints Y/N, you will go to the ball and you will enjoy it,” interrupted your mother. She bursted through the doors of your room, followed by other attendants to help you get ready.

“The ball isn’t even for me. It’s for him.”

“It’s for the both of you my darling. After all, we’re here to find you a husband, not play dress up,” replied your mother. You sat up and crossed your arms.

“Well you didn’t meet father until the fifth ball. Are you expecting me to sort through all of these princes or pick the first one I find?” You groaned. Your mother chuckled.

“I just so happened to meet him at the fifth ball. He could’ve been the first suitor and I still would have fallen in love with him.”

Whenever there was a princess of age, all eligible princes from neighboring kingdoms would come and present themselves in an attempt to win her hand. In this case, your hand was what they wished to win. A ball would take place for each prince, as to welcome them and for the two of you to get to know each other. There would be seven balls taking place.

“What if I go through all seven and don’t like any of them?”

“Then pick the one you dislike the least,” joked your mother, though you knew she was serious.

“Which prince is coming today?” You asked. Your mother smiled.

“He is known as ‘The Great Prince’ soon to be Great King. His kingdom of Aoba Johsai is farthest from ours, hence why his welcome will be first,” she explained. You nodded. You had met the prince once before, but when you were children. He was more of a sweet memory now.

“What is his name again?”

“His name, my dear, is Prince Toru Oikawa.”

~

After your mother had left you, you began to get ready. It was tradition for the welcoming kingdom’s prince or princess to wear the other sides colors, as a sign of respect. You had a beautiful dress made for the event. With silver crystals and white satin, you certainly would be the belle of the ball. You would wear a simple aquamarine diamond necklace to tie your look together.

You sat at your vanity as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. It was almost time for you to head down to the ball. You could hear people arriving. Royalty, knights, dukes and duchesses, everyone would be here.

Anita cinched you up into your dress, making it a little difficult to breathe.

“I’m gonna be out of breath by the first dance if you go any tighter,” you laughed.

“I’m sorry Your Grace.”

Anita tied up the corset, followed by the actual dress. You went to look at yourself in the mirror. You looked beautiful no doubt.

“The prince would be silly not to fall for you,” smiled Anita. You sighed.

“Him falling isn’t what I’m worried about.”

You could hear the sound of violins from the ballroom as you stood outside of it, greeting everyone who entered. There had to be at least one hundred people inside, if not more.

“Oh Y/N I see him!” whispered your mother. She quickly organized your skirt and made sure your necklace was facing the correct way.

“Big smiles everyone.”

Standing before you were two men. You honestly had no idea which one was the prince.

“Your Majesties, I’m pleased to introduce you to Prince Toru Oikawa of Aoba Johsai,” said the shorter of the two. The prince greeted the king and queen before making his way to you.

“Your Highness...”

He took your hand, kissing the top of it. He certainly had grown up a bit since you had seen him last. His hair brown and fluffy, his eyes dark and hypnotic, his smile bright and flirtatious. He wore a perfectly tailored suit with his royal metals and a teal sash.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” you smiled.

“The pleasure is all mine Princess. Perhaps I may treat you to a dance later in the evening?” he smirked. You nodded.

“Until then.”

The two men parted into the depths of the ball.

“Oh he is so handsome Y/N!” your mother gushed.

“Not terrible...”

“Go mingle my dear! Get to know him!” she insisted. You sighed and went out to the floor.

You weren’t big on dancing. In all honesty, you weren’t big on fancy balls. They got old after a while.

“You don’t actually plan to just stand there all night, now do you Princess?”

You looked over your shoulder and standing next to you was Prince Toru.

“Of course not...”

“Did I mention that you look truly gorgeous tonight? My kingdom’s colors seem to suit you,” he smiled.

“Thank you Your Highness.”

“Just Oikawa please. Or Toru if you feel so inclined.”

“Fair enough Oikawa. Then please, it’s just Y/N,” you said.

“Well, I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know what’s going on. Your family planned this ball as for us to fall in love, am I right?”

Your eyes widened a bit and you looked up at Oikawa.

“You aren’t wrong. However I have a feeling it won’t be that simple,” you smirked. Oikawa chuckled.

“Oh Y/N, don’t hold yourself back from fawning over me. It’s okay, every girl where I come from does so.”

“I’m not every other girl Toru.”

Oikawa moved to stand in front of you. His tall figure bowed in front of you.

“Then may I have this dance. Let’s see if you dance better than every other girl.”

You stared at Oikawa’s hand in front of you. You took his hand carefully as he led you to the dance floor.

Oikawa had one hand on your waist as the other hand held yours. The two of you spun around in time with the orchestra’s strings that played.

“Not too bad,” he laughed.

“Well I’d hope not, this isn’t my first ball.”

“It is your first of the seven though, am I correct?”

“Right again Toru.”

“I suppose then that it is my job to make sure I’m your favorite out of the seven. I hope that when you think of me, you think that I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

Oikawa’s words were smooth and sultry. The way he spoke so clearly yet loud enough for only you to hear.

“You’ve got yourself convinced that I’ll be yours. That’s a dangerous game to be playing.”

“Oh Y/N, my dearest, I promise that I don’t feel threatened by those other six. I didn’t even bother to check who I was against, since it won’t be much of a competition.”

“So I’m the game?”

Oikawa’s eyes widened.

“Oh god no, not at all. You’re a crowned jewel, my love. The moment I saw you I knew that you could certainly cause the death of a bachelor.”

Your heart fluttered a bit at the sound of his voice. He was completely wrapped around your finger. Subconsciously, you knew that you were wrapped around his as well.

“You’re confident Toru. That’s an admirable trait.”

“I have to be if I’m going to run my kingdom one day. No one would follow after a weak king.”

“I suppose that’s why they call you the Great Prince, soon to be Great King.”

“You could even call yourself the Great Queen. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

You chuckled.

“It certainly does. Well Toru, answer me this question: why should I pick you?”

Oikawa’s blank expression turned to a cheeky smile. He pulled you closer to him.

“Because, we have history Y/N.”

You had first met the prince when you were just 8 years old. Your family was invited to his kingdom for a banquet. Since you two were close in age, you spent all your time together. You enjoyed the small friendship you had with him. You were young and clueless after all. Oikawa had even said that the two of you should get married, since you were already friends. Your childish mind agreed, not knowing what the future had in store for you. So now here you were, dancing with your childhood love, in a ball made for just you and him.

“I didn’t think you remembered that,” you admitted.

“How could I forget the princess who blessed me with my first kiss?”

The young Oikawa had led you to the gardens. He insisted that if you two were to get married one day, you might as well get used to kissing each other. You agreed and so you kissed him. Your little lips maybe touched for a maximum of a second but still, his pink flushed cheeks were unforgettable.

“Well I’m happy to hear that I made some form of impact on you, Toru.”

“I hope I did the same. I plan to be the best you’ve ever had, remember?”

Before you could reply, the song had stopped and people began to shuffle off of the ballroom floor. Oikawa presented his arm for you to take, which you did happily.

“Excuse me Your Highness, I need to borrow the prince,” said the man who entered with Oikawa earlier. You nodded.

“That’s alright. Well, it was a pleasure Toru,” you said. Oikawa kissed your hand once more.

“Oh the pleasure was all mine Y/N.”

As the night came to an end, the ballroom soon became empty. You stood in the middle of it, alone. For some reason, you thought of Oikawa. How his charm seemed to have melted your coldness towards the situation. He had a certain glow to him, bringing out this warmer side to you.

“Even with the night finished you still look just as beautiful as when it started,” said Oikawa behind you. He stood at the top of the stairs as you stood below on the dance floor. Oikawa joined you, standing in front of you.

“I could say the same about you Toru.”

“I’m about to depart but I wanted to make sure to give you a proper goodbye,” he explained.

“Go ahead,” you said. Oikawa smirked, and slowly leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“I’ll be counting the days until I get to see you again, just as I did when we were kids. Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Toru.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ: ☾

[ taglist OPEN: @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @misszenin @marajillana @asahisimpnation @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful @koutarousangel @shoutamajiki @definitelynottrin @sullen-angel24 ]

[nctsoftskz]

Forbidden love | w. kunhang

Word count: 4.9k Pairing: nursemaid! reader x prince! Hendery Genre: fluff, angst (if you squint), royalty au Synopsis: due to your different social status, being with Hendery is impossible. However, he’ll try everything to make it work. A/N: sorry for being so inactive, I’ve been extremely busy stressing out and overthinking my entire life and decisions. I hope y’all like this piece of trash writing! ❣

Even if it’s forbidden, Hendery couldn’t help but love you. He’s a prince, you’re a nursemaid, the difference between your two social status would never allow your union, if it were to happen. You knew Hendery (I mean, how couldn’t you. You worked for his parents), but you never really talked to him. You had exchanged a few words with him by the past since you were taking care of his younger sibling. He had tried to help you out, but you always denied, not wanting to get him or you in trouble. 

You owed his parents a lot. Twenty years ago, his father, the king, rescued you from the piercing cold of winter. He had found you abandoned in a thin knitted dress; a cotton cloth loosely wrapped around your tiny figure. When he brought you back to the castle, the other maid looked after you and brought you up. You were now 20 years old and grateful for the king. His wife, the queen, never liked you, still believing that you were the daughter of an unacceptable union between her husband and a woman, a whore from the plebs. The king had tried to explain – you once heard that he even vowed it - that he had found you in the snow, but she always rejected his version of the story. You avoided her as much as possible and so did you with Hendery. He had strong facial traits of his mother, that’s why you avoided him. Every time he talked to you, even if he has the humanity and the kindness of his father, his face reminded you too much of his mother and you couldn’t look at him in the eyes without feeling uneasy.

“Hi, Y/N,” you heard someone say and you froze, picking the child in your arms before turning around. “Good afternoon, your Highness,” you bowed your head. Jiaying, his younger sister that you had in your arms copied you, making Hendery chuckle. “Please call me Hendery, it’s more practical and you’re around my age,” he said with a smile and you shrugged. “You have a higher social status, your Highness, I shall use the proper vocabulary when I meet you,” you try to stay as polite as possible, always on your guard. The women who brought you up always told you that the walls had ears and you could get in serious trouble if you said something wrong. You didn’t want to take the risk of losing your job, so you stayed polite, even if the prince asked you to drop the formalities. Working in the castle was exhausting but at least you had a home and food when it was cold. “I know, but we are alone now, you can call me by my name, no one is here.” Hendery smiled at your shyness and laughed as you try to prevent his little sister from untying the yellow ribbon tightly wrapped in your hair. As Hendery wasn’t saying anything else, you excused yourself and went to put the young princess to bed. You washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on her nightgown, and told her a story. You were like her older sister to her, since the king and the queen never really took care of her. She loved her elder brother, but you noticed that she had separation anxiety when you or Hendery left her unattended for a while.

That day, in the middle of the night, you got woken up by repetitive loud bangs on your wooden door. Quickly putting on a long cardigan around your shoulders and securely tied it around your waist, you hugged the material close to your chest. When you opened the door, your head spun when you found the one and only prince of this castle. “Y-your Highness?” you asked, hesitant on why he’s here. “I’m so sorry to wake you up at this hour Y/N, but Jiaying has been crying for the past hour and nobody can calm her down.” Hearing his words, you ignored the coldness biting at your bare feet and you hastily walked to her room, the prince on your heels. As you got closer and closer from her room, you could hear the screeching cries of Jiaying, and you burst through the door. Servants, other nursemaids, the king, and his wife were there, the latter sending you a dark glare as you walked past everyone to make your way to the bed. You bowed at everyone before touching Jiaying’s rosy cheeks.

“She's running a temperature,” you said, and you noticed from the corner of your eye the queen’s jaw clenching. You gulped and focused on the young girl, whose sobs calmed down since you were by her side. The queen dragged her husband out of the room without a word, followed by a few other people, leaving you and Hendery in the room. “Tell me if I can help,” he whispered as he caressed his sister’s hand with his thumb. “Your Highness, it would be unfortunate if you caught her fever. You may go back to sleep.” Hendery frowned at your words and you got surprised as his voice went an octave deeper. “Y/N, this is my sister, I want to help to make her feel better.” “Your Highness, you’re the prince, this is not your job to--” “I know,” he cut you, jaw clenched, and you looked away, his mother’s features strongly making their way on his face. Noticing your change of behaviour, Hendery’s tone softened and sat deeper on the king-sized bed. “But I still want to help. it’s my sister.” “Let us switch roles, then,” your voice didn’t mean to come out trembling, but you couldn’t control your emotions very well, which surprised Hendery. “You can stay here while I go grab the things your sister needs.” 

As soon as you stood up from your spot next to Jiaying, she started crying again, forcing you to sit down. You turned your head to the prince but didn’t look at him in the eyes, feeling his gaze on your face. “Let me help you Y/N.” you sighed, defeated as you timidly but politely enumerated the things you needed to heal the princess. Hendery dashed out of the room and came back around 10 minutes later with everything in hand, only to find you caressing his sister’s cheek. You quickly got up and helped him unload his arms and started taking care of Jiaying.

You stayed awake the entire night to take care of the princess, only to have her falling asleep when the sun was rising. You discreetly stifled a yawn as you noticed Hendery asleep next to his sister. Her cheeks were still bright red and you were praying that she’d heal soon. You preferred running without any sleep than struggling to wake up after only 10 minutes of rest, so you went on with your day as if nothing happened. Walking in the kitchens, you started preparing breakfast for the two siblings, eating a banana and an apple during the process. Feeling your head spinning from your lack of sleep, you slapped your cheeks to shake you awake, earning a weird glance from the cooks. You awkwardly smiled and greeted them, only to be left without an answer. You bitterly chuckled to yourself as you poured the chicken soup in a bowl, putting it on a tray and made your way towards the room.

After closing the bedroom door behind you, you put the tray down on the bedside table and carefully shook Hendery awake. “Your Highness, you need to wake up, it’s 8 am,” you whispered, and he grumbled, his head sinking deeper in the pillow. His behaviour made you smile but you had to wake him up, he needed to eat and get ready before his library session. “Your Highness,” you shook his shoulder a bit harder this time, but he didn’t answer, and you sighed. You had heard that he was a heavy sleeper, but you never thought that it would be so hard to wake him up. Making sure that you were the only one in the room, you got closer to the prince and resisted the urge to push his hair away from his eyes.

“Hendery,” you murmured and shook him one last time. He groaned again, louder this time, but his eyes started fluttering. “You need to wake up, you have your library-” “Shht, Y/N, please. Five more minutes,” he mumbled and grabbed your forearm, making you gasp. You stood there, not knowing what to do. You wanted to shake him off as quickly as possible, but you found him quite endearing hugging your forearm like he currently was. “I can’t let you sleep more; your father and counsellor will be angry if you’re late.” “Don’t care,” he protested, his voice way lower than usual, laced with sleep. You stifled a smile as you managed to place the plate filled with scrambled eggs under his nose. His eyes opened and you caught him inhaling the food you had prepared for him. He let go of your arm, suddenly wide awake and sat down in the bed, hastily grabbing the cutlery you were handing him with a smile. Starting to take care of his sister, you saw him putting the now empty glass of orange juice on the bedside table before resting his head against the wall behind him. “My sister told me that your cooking skills were good, but I didn’t expect them to be this wonderful.” He stated and you shyly beamed, covering Jiaying’s forehead with a cold piece of cloth. “This breakfast is the simplest thing in the world, you know,” you said, softly feeding Jiaying with a spoon. “You’re going to get late, you shall find your servant so she can style your hair.” Hendery touched his hair as a reflex and chuckled as he felt the nest under his touch. “Do you think you can you do it? I can’t be seen like this...” his voice trailed, and you put the bowl down, Jiaying avoiding the spoon every time you neared it around her mouth. “Please keep an eye on your sister while I go grab everything.” He nodded and thanked you as you got out of the door, only to find his servant with the things needed to style his hair. “Ah Y/N, have you seen the prince? I went to your room but none of you was in there.” She said and you frowned. “What- why would he be in my room?” you questioned, and the elder woman shrugged. “He’s in the princess’ room but give me all of that, I’ll do it myself.” 

You grabbed her basket and hurried back in the room, only to find Hendery on the balcony, admiring the view. “Your Highness, I’m back,” you said as you put the basket down on the bed, still a bit angry and confused about what his servant told you. He closed the window and sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for you. His sister was less red than this morning, but when you touched her forehead, it was still burning. You softly stroked her cheek before bringing your attention back on the prince. “Y/N, are you okay?” He said after moments of silence, noticing the frown on your face. Looking at him with eyebrows raised, you nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” you questioned and kept on styling his hair. “I don’t know, you look angry since you came back.” Hendery’s gaze never left you and you sighed. “Well, your servant was looking for you and she said that she went to check my room and she expected us both to be in there. I don’t know who told her that or who started this rumour, but I want it to stop as quickly as possible.” You uttered in one breath, trying to stay as polite as possible. With this rumour, your job was already at risk so you wouldn’t want to get in even more trouble by breaking another law. If the queen were to hear about this rumour, she wouldn’t hesitate to fire you straight away.

“Do you despise me that much that you can't stand hearing rumours about us or what’s the problem?” the young prince eyes you from his spot on the bed while your hands worked in his hair. “I don’t despise you, your Highness,” “I told you to stop calling me like that,” he huffed but you kept going. “I’m not like you, you know. I know your mother hates me, she thinks I’m an illegitimate child and I’m sure that she wouldn’t think twice before firing me if she has the smallest opportunity. Do you imagine, her son, the prince, the royal heir, to be rumoured to have spent the night with a servant, a peasant like me? I’m far from being a princess, I don’t have royal blood flooding through my veins, I’m just a maid. I’m only here to take care of your sister, nothing else. I can be easily replaced, a lot of women are dying to work for the royal family. I’m only meant to get married to someone from my social status and your mother won’t hesitate to remind me that. So no, I don’t despise you, I’m simply scared. Not only for me but for you as well.” It was the first time that you spoke so openly and informally to Hendery and you immediately started regretting it, feeling your cheeks burning with embarrassment and anger. Being too tired to think of an apology, you remained quiet, and so did he. He was shocked that you were so terrified of his mother. He knew that people found her scary, but he had never imagined you being so frightened of her. “I didn’t know she terrorised you this much,” Hendery mumbled but you didn’t say a word. If you could have, you would have given him a piece of your mind about his mother, but you didn’t dare. Even if she terrifies the shit out of you, Hendery wouldn’t like to hear your words about his mother. You wouldn’t like to have someone complaining about your mother, even if you didn’t have one.

Suddenly remembering all the nights you spent crying because you missed the family you’ve never had, your eyes welled up with tears and you sniffled, alerting the prince. You sighed again because it was the last thing you needed. His pity. “Y/N-” Hendery rose his hand to touch your forearm but it stood mid-air at your words. “Hend- your Highness, please no.” You harshly said and backed off to the basket, putting all the stuff back inside. “I’ve finished styling your hair, your Highness, I wish you a lovely day.” You put everything away in the basket, tears blurring your vision. You bowed before dashing out of the room, looking for the hairdresser, never looking back. Hendery stood there, puzzled of what just happened. He didn’t expect you to burst into tears in front of him, and you rejecting his comfort slightly broke his heart. He knew that his mother wasn’t very keen on having you around the castle, leave alone around him. During his entire lesson, he couldn’t focus, you occupied his mind too much. His father looked exasperated but didn’t say a word, whereas his counsellor yelled at him for not remembering the things he learnt last week, but he didn’t care. You were more important to him than any of those lessons.

During the following days, you avoided the royal family like the plague, except for Jiaying, who you were assigned to. She needed your help and attention to heal and your determination to make her feel better paid off. Within a week and a half, she was back on her feet and you were exhausted. You made sure to stay awake most of the nights to be there for her, resting your head against the bed frame or reading while she was sleeping. You had been avoiding Hendery, not wanting to confront him since that time when you styled his hair. He had tried several times to talk to you, but you always managed to get busy or meet someone in the castle that needed him, allowing you to escape. One morning, you woke up with the strongest headache you’ve ever had in your life, preventing you from even sitting up in your bed. You groaned and tried anyway, only to be seized by dizziness. You saw stars, your bedroom was spinning, you truly felt like you were going to die. Since your room was at the very end of a long corridor, no one could hear you, even if you yelled. You started to panic, already hearing your superiors barking at you for being late, which increased your pain. After a few minutes sunk in silence trying to get a grip on your discomfort, you managed to stand up and made your way to your kitchenette, boiling water in a small pot. You started getting ready for the day, way slower than you usually were. Before correctly buttoning up your maid apron, you poured the warm liquid in a cup and let your tea sink in. You hoped that it would give you the strength to make it alive until tonight.

It didn’t help, you felt like it aggravated everything. Maids asked you if you were okay when they saw you and you pretended that you were only a little tired. You didn’t have any other choices, you had to take care of Jiaying, you couldn't skip work, even if you were at your worst. The princess was kind enough to be calm this morning, allowing your pain to diminish a little. You read her stories, played with her, and tried to teach her how to knit. She paid close attention and she was patient, managing to get the strings to work on her little fingers. When it was time for her to eat, you left her room and went to cook her lunch. However, as soon as you got out, your pain hit you straight in the head, making the castle completely spin, forcing you to lean against the granite wall. After earning a few side glances from people walking past you, your body was too exhausted to move and you gave in, completely blacking out against the cold wall.

Jiaying stared at you making your way out the door, your walk was slightly dizzy and uncertain. The young princess frowned but focused on her knitting. She wanted to impress you by making a few rows alone, showing you that she carefully listened and was able to succeed. She stuck her tongue out as she made a stitch on one side, then on the other, carefully passing the needles through the thread. Her stomach grumbled after a few rows, not understanding why you were taking so long to come back. “Where is Y/N?” she mumbled as she opened the door, but no one answered her, people passing by completely ignoring her. She wandered a bit in the castle, looking out for you, getting progressively lost in the winding corridors of the castle. She was getting scared and started running, regularly yelling your name, tears forming in her small eyes. 

Arriving in front of the kitchens, she noticed a figure on the floor and she carefully approached it. She gasped when she recognised the yellow ribbon in your hair, the one she always wanted to untie since she was younger. She tried to bring people to a halt to help you, they all looked at her weirdly, wondering what the princess was doing alone in the castle. She was about to cry when an idea popped in her head. She carefully untied the yellow ribbon that secured your bun, your hair falling down your shoulders and she ran, jostling other children or adults on her way. She noticed her brother in the distance and she yelled his name, panting. Hendery recognised her frail voice and saw her running towards him. He immediately started getting worried when he caught the tears running down her face. “Meimei, what are you doing here alone? Why are you crying?” He crouched down and picked her up, only to have her burying her face in his neck. “Y-Y/N,” at the mention of your name, Hendery grabbed Jiaying’s nape to make her look at him. He spotted the yellow ribbon in her hand and his heart skipped a beat. “What’s wrong with Y/N?” He was getting extremely worried, scared that something bad happened to you. Seeing that she didn’t answer, he slightly shook his sister and asked again. “Hm? Where is she?” “She- she’s gone.” Jiaying cries increased, leaving Hendery with nothing but a pounding heart. Hendery carried his sister as she guided him through the castle to you. When he reached the corridor, you were still on the floor, but a few maids were surrounding you. He caught the first maid and handed her his little sister and kneeled next to you. The other servants immediately backed off, leaving him space. “Go get the doctor and tell him it’s an emergency, prepare a room with new sheets and assign someone to temporarily take care of the princess,” Hendery ordered, his tone authoritative and harsh. People started to move, leaving in every direction to follow his orders. He slid a hand under your head and cupped your cheek with the other, his gaze never leaving your face, ready to catch a small hint of you waking up. But you never did. His face fell when he noticed how pale and exhausted you looked, eyebags falling to the middle of your cheeks and your lips turning purple. He checked the pulse on your neck and fortunately, it was still beating, but it was awfully slow. He took off his uniform jacket and handed it to the last maid, Wenling, who stayed behind, and he recognised her as one of your closest friends. The young prince passed his arms under your knees and neck, lifting you from the ground. He gestured to your friend to follow him and she compelled, looking extremely pale. She was so scared for you, she closely followed Hendery after putting the jacket on you.

When you regained consciousness, your entire body felt numb but at least warmth surrounded you, unlike when you fainted. The bed was way more comfortable than the one you had in your room, making you wonder where you were. It felt like you were sleeping on clouds, wrapped in delicate rays of sunshine. As your eyes fluttered open, you slowly recognised the Chinese tapestry decorating the ceiling. The last time you had seen this tapestry was when Hendery and his maid were sick, and you had to take care of him. Your eyes started to water from being open for so long and you closed them as you heard voices coming from the door.

“Your Highness, do you think Y/N will wake up soon?” “I don’t know, Wenling, even the doctor doesn’t know. He said that she was overworked and exhausted, she needs to rest. It’s already been a week, so it can take her more days, or even weeks to recover, we don’t know. We can only hope that she’ll eventually come back to us. I’ll make sure to warn you when she wakes up.” “Thank you, your Highness.” You heard as the door closed, steps coming closer to you. The bed dipped under the weight and you felt a finger softly caressing your cheek. This gesture sent a wave of chills down your spine, his warm touch contrasting with the coldness of your body.

Hendery stopped stroking your cheek and moved a bit, feeling his hand now on your bare forearm, his head resting on your shoulder. “I can’t wait for you to wake up,” he mumbled as he knew that you were the only two in the room. “I can’t wait to see your pretty eyes and smile again,” you felt his breath against the side of your neck, and you waited a bit before opening your eyes, wanting to hear more of those sweet words. But you didn’t, your body fell asleep before you could hear anything else. When you emerged again, Hendery hadn’t left his spot next to you. He sounded asleep, and the darkness of the room confirmed your thought. You tried to move your head and it dropped on his shoulder, the faint smell of him on his nightclothes made you sleepy again, but it was different this time. You knew that you’d wake up tomorrow.

And you did. When Hendery’s eyes opened due to the rays of sunshine coming through the poorly closed curtains, he felt your head on his shoulder and smiled. It was a sign that you were awake. He slept next to you every night since you fainted, and you never moved your head. He wrapped his arm around your waist and carefully brought you closer to him, having you this close making him happy. You woke up to someone repeatedly sliding fingers through your hair, a chin resting against your forehead. It took you a few minutes to realise in what posture you were in and you froze. 

“H-Hendery…” you mumbled, your voice coming out raspy as you weakly tried to get out of the prince’s arms. His stomach happily churned when he heard his name coming out of your mouth and he kept you close to his chest as he felt you move. “Shht, it’s alright, I’m here. I won’t let you slip out this time,” he mumbled, and you opened your eyes, only to be met with the brown orbits of the man who held you “captive”. “Have you thought about what your mom—” “My mom is the one who sent me there when she heard that you passed out.” Hendery calmly explained and you stopped rubbing your eyes.

What?

“Yes, as surprising as it might sound, she allowed me to keep you company and even sleep next to you.” Maybe she wasn’t as terrible as she looked and sounded. Maybe, it was her facial traits that made her look mad and angry all the time. “So, if she enters now, she won’t fire you or yell at you as you were scared of her doing so. Sometimes, you just need a bit of communication to clear things out.” 

You nodded at his words, staring at the ceiling. Hendery cupped your cheek and made you look at him. His stare was intense, but it never made you feel awkward. He had reassuring and tender eyes, two brown orbits that charmed everyone, including you. They quickly travelled to your lips, only to back up a second later, as if he were scared that you’d catch his intention. He crawled closer to you, as if it were possible, his lips almost touching yours. You closed your eyes, the staring getting too intense for you, and that’s when you felt his lips crashing onto yours. His arm sneaked from your waist to your back, his other hand resting against the back of your head, hugging you with quite some force. 

You managed to lift your arms and wrap them around the prince’s neck, playing with his fluffy hair. Dizziness made its way in your head again, but this time, you knew that you weren’t the only one who felt like that. He deepened the kiss, tangling his limbs with yours, passing his hand under the sleeve of your white nightgown to soothingly rub his hand against your skin. You slightly pushed his chest when you felt your lack of oxygen growing and he broke the kiss, only to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t care about what people or my family say, I love you and no one can change that. Do you understand that?” He said, kissing your cheek. “I don’t love you for your reputation or your social status, I don’t care about this, I only love you for who you are and who you help me be.” “How do I help you, though?” You questioned, cheeks becoming red at his sudden confession. “The way you take care of me and my sister, your smile and your perseverance make me want to keep going, to work and study hard to make you proud.” “You don’t have to do all of this to make me proud, I’m already proud of the person you have become. I love you for what you are already, and that’s more than enough.” “That’s what I needed to hear.” He smirked and you frowned, not understanding what he meant. “I needed to hear those three words. I’ve been waiting for years to hear them.” He kissed your temple as you realised what you said, earning a small from him. “Do you want me to say them again?” You teased and he chuckled but vividly nodded. You hoisted yourself higher, cradling his face and looked at him deep in the eyes. “I love you, my prince,” you kissed his nose and he grinned, stifling a squeal. You giggled and exchanged a kiss again, not caring about the world outside of his bedroom. You were the most important thing to each other, and no one could prevent you from loving each other. Not the queen, nor your different social status. Nothing.

[neocrush]

to the fools who dream.

pairing: idol!renjun x fem!trainee!reader

prompt: when two fools with the same dream collide and tragically fall for each other. except, one has already achieved said dream. the other is willing to sacrifice everything in able to reach that same dream. through experiencing love and heartbreak for the first time, they learn to separate dream and reality.

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TEASER UNDER THE CUT.

“Five, six, seven, eight!” The dance teacher counted to the beats of Boss Bitch by Doja Cat. You kept a strong gaze, looking at your dancing figure on the mirror. You and your fellow trainees  squatted on the ground as you stayed in that position, waiting for your respective solo parts. As your solo part came, you stood up and gracefully went to the center. After sixteen counts, everyone else stood up as you led them into the chorus. As the song ends, you stayed still in your ending pose. You and Saerin’s heavy breathing being the only audible thing to your ears. 

Your ending pose included you perching one arm up her right shoulder as both your bodies faced each other, meanwhile your actual faces faced the floor. “Good job, girls! That’s a wrap for dance practice today!” The man who previously had a stern face, smiled proudly at your hard work. “Your managers told me that none of you have any extra classes or training after this one. Therefore, you are allowed to go back to your dorms. Rest up, tomorrow is the monthly evaluation.” 

All twelve of you bowed as your dance teacher left the practice room. “Finally..” Haryeong sighed, collapsing to the floor as she sprawled her body in a funny manner. 

“I’m so nervous. I-I don’t think I’m ready for tomorrow’s evaluations.” Hannah stuttered. She was fairly new to the company, so her being extremely nervous for her first evaluations wasn’t that surprising to any of you. What surprised you, was that she started crying. Jaera, the eldest female trainee engulfed her in a motherly-like hug. She wiped the tears that fell onto the gray-haired girl’s cheeks away. 

“Hannah, look at me,” She softly spoke. The younger girl looked up, indicating that she was listening to her elder. “You’re going to do amazing. I know that for a fact. I’m not just saying this because we’re friends or because I’m trying to cheer you up. You are truly talented and hardworking. You entered this company without knowing how to count beats and stay on key. That was nearly a month ago. Now you’re up for the Main Dancer position and our vocal coach praises you on the daily. Heck, you even started rapping! Do you see what I’m trying to say? Your hardwork won’t go to waste. None of ours will.” The speaking girl looked around at her fellow trainees. Some of you starting to tear up a bit.

She continued, “I say this with all my heart. We all deserve to debut. When the time comes, our company will realize that our talent and hardwork can’t go to waste. If they fail to do so, then they’re missing out on so much potential.” The sobbing girls wiped their tears as they laughed at Jaera’s last line. Sumin pulled everyone into a hug as you cherished this moment, knowing it won’t forever be like this. 

The hug fell apart as Wonchae’s phone buzzed, receiving a call from one of your managers. Soon enough you all bid your goodbyes, as you were travelling in different cars to your dorms. Everyone walked to building’s main lobby and black vans arrived. It was 3:58 AM and you were in need of rest. As you put your white mask on, you heard a voice call out your name. You turned around and immediately removed your mask, bowing at the person who was nearing you. “Yoongi-sunbae, hello.” You properly greeted your senior.

“Ah, good thing you’re here. The CEO wants to see you.” You widened your eyes at what the taller man had just told you. “Don’t worry, it’s probably nothing bad.” He chuckled at your tense figure. “I should probably tell-” “No, no, it’s okay. They already know.” He reassured as he cut you off mid-sentence. “I can walk you there. My practice room is on the same floor.” You firmly nodded at his suggestion. “Let me just get some iced coffee, which is what I initially was going to do.” You both chuckle as you trailed behind him to the vending machine and to the 12th floor via elevator. 

You walked through the spacey hallway that led to the CEO’s office. Yoongi took a turn as he opened a door that revealed six boys chaotically doing shenanigans in a big practice room. You just chuckled at the sight of the six hyperactive men you had to deal with since you were a mere child. “Y/n! Hi!” A deep but cheerful voice that belonged to none other than Taehyung joyfully called out your name as he energetically waved at you from a distance. “Hi Taetae-sunbae!” You smiled ear-to-ear and waved. 

“See you soon? Good luck for the evaluations tomorrow by the way.” Yoongi calmly voiced out.

“Oh, Thank you, sunbae. See you soon!” You bid your goodbyes as you properly bowed - he was your senior afterall. You continued your mini journey to the CEO’s office as you walked straight towards the end of the hall.

You were now face-to-face with the door that led to the CEO’s office. The words  ‘BANG SI HYUK’ on top of ‘CEO of BigHit Entertainment’ with big, golden letters and a bold font were plastered on the big white door. It was quite intimidating - you must say.

You entered the room full of hesitation and got lost in your see of thoughts, until a man voiced out. “Ah, y/n. I have been waiting for you.” Your boss, Bang Sihyuk, smiled softly. You bowed, “Hello, sir. I apologize for being late.” “It’s alright. Take a seat.” He pulled out a chair that was in front of his large desk, gesturing for you to sit on it. “Thank you, sir.” You took a seat, smiling at his extremely kind gesture. He took a seat on his large leather chair, facing you from the other side of his desk.  

“It’s very late right now, so I’m not going to keep you here for a long time. I’ll just get to the point, okay?” The middle-aged started as you firmly nodded. 

“You have been training with us since you were 12 years old. When you auditioned, I saw the talent and potential in you. I knew you were going to become a star one day. An extremely successful one. You are very talented and hardworking. You already know that, of course. Everybody in BigHit does. Even our cleaning staff.” You both chuckled at his comedic remark.

 He continued with a more serious tone, “I’ve watched you grow into an amazing artist. There was never a day where you would let me down. After every performance, you always remind me why I accepted you into the company in the first place. You never fail to improve. To be better. To be stronger. You are extremely independent for someone your age and you should be proud of that. But most importantly, you are passionate and humble. Wherever you go in life, remember to keep those core traits as they will always bring good things to you. I, as your boss, am extremely proud of you and the person you’ve become.” 

You smile at the amount of compliments that you were being showered with by one of the most important people in your life and career. 

“I made a deal with SM Entertainment.”

Your smile altered to a confused-type-of-look as the words that had just rolled out of the man’s tongue irked you in a way. It wasn’t that you hated SM Entertainment, they were just - a joke - to your company. Your fellow trainees who were in the same class as some of the SM trainees would always talk about how celebrity-like they acted. The girls would joke about how self-centered they were here and there. Of course, you just stood there and listened. You went to an international school and trained almost your whole life, resulting in you almost never interacting with trainees from other companies. Hence, not knowing how they behaved in real life. The only exception was when you appeared in Stray Kids’ music video for God’s Menu. Then again, they weren’t trainees.

“They have decided to transfer a male trainee from their company. He wasn’t exactly fit for their company, but I saw lots of potential in him. They didn’t want to properly let him go. They weren’t going to risk losing another trainee. Therefore, they proposed a deal.” 

I think know where this is going.

“Our team had a meeting with their team. We showed them all of the latest monthly evaluations. They decided that they were going to select one of our trainees to be transferred to train at their company and vice versa.”

Oh no, it’s actually happening.

“With lots thinking and negotiation. They chose you. You’ll be picked up by your new manager here at around 8 AM. Y/n, I truly believe that you are going to be an amazing artist. No matter which company you are under. I have faith in you, y/n.” 

You were tearing up, “So is this goodbye? An end to years of training here? My home?”

Bang Sihyuk replied, “This isn’t me completely letting you go. It isn’t an end to anything. It’s the start of something wonderful. You are extremely talented, passionate, kind, hardworking, and humble. Whichever company you are in won’t matter. You are an amazing individual and you know it.” The chubbier man had engulfed you in a warm hug. “BigHit will always welcome you with open arms. Whenever you’re feeling empty, you know we’re here for you. You know the boys will do everything to protect their sister, right?” 

You nodded into the hug as you pulled away and smiled, “I’ll do my best. I always will. It’s what you taught me.”

“Show ‘em SM kids how they raised you in Bighit!” you laughed at the man, who in a few hours, won’t be your boss anymore. 

You spent the few remaining hours of being under the company you grew up in with the members of BTS and TXT. Together, you ate ungodly amounts of Spicy Ramyeon while reminiscing the boys’ trainee days with you.

Oh, how you were going to miss your brothers.

a/n: no nct yet sorry! but we need this for character building :)) did your faves make an appearance/get mentioned?

taglist

none atm so send an ask to be added !

[leo-culture-technology]

I don't really have anything specific in mind, I'm actually kinda lost as to what to look for jkjsksjk I know I identify with some traits, like sensory issues and difficulty communicating (I do have a diagnosis of social phobia, though I've been thinking maybe autism would better explain other aspects of my life beyond social interaction). I've been reading some articles regarding late discovering of autism and mostly looking for experiences, so I can compare to my own. I feel like I should be looking for something else but I don't really know what? lmao I don't think that was really helpful, anything you can share would be good to me

This is a really long post so I'm going to put it under a read more to not clog up other people's feeds but I think the main areas to cover are:

- verbal communication issues

was your vocabulary/reading ever under/over developed as a child? Having a really advanced vocabulary is just as much a sign of autism as having delayed development in this area. Also, having a very hard to pin down accent, or taking on others' accents Really easily is common amongst autistic people. Do you ever have trouble speaking? I experience selective mutism and when I'm overwhelmed/stressed/upset I often find it hard to speak out loud and have to communicate through messages/notes, though when I'm not mute I'm very eloquent and have always had a vocabulary that was advanced, other kids found it hard to talk to me when I was younger bc they couldn't understand me, but equally comprehension/vocabulary can be delayed/compromised and you might find it hard to understand others because you struggle with that sort of thing yourself. Do you have issues with your tone of voice ever? I find that I can't read my own tone of voice or my volume, some things will come out really bitchy-sounding or angry-sounding and I won't be able to tell, or I might be shouting and not know it because it all sounds the same in my head really.

- sensory issues

do you have issues with certain types of sound? volume? quantity? volume doesn't bother me, but too many different sources of noise will send me into a meltdown so fast. Do you struggle with certain smells, bright lights, tastes, textures of food or of clothing, certain sensations, for example I get really stressed out by having wet skin/hair, and I can't stand the sound/feeling of something rubbing over carpet. I also find some tastes to be overwhelming. Under-sensitivity or processing issues can also be a symptom. Do you ever struggle to process reading/listening to something? I have absolutely awful retention for auditory information, I can't hold more than around 4-5 words in my mind at any one time, and I can't follow auditory instructions at all if there's more than one step, it needs to be written down. I also often struggle to read things because I don't process the words and they just look like meaningless letters on a page to me. I also really struggle to process my own thoughts and order them, I'm able to talk out loud but there are times where I can't write my thoughts without speaking them first because ordering my thoughts while they're still inside my head is very difficult. I also have an under-sensitive sense of smell and taste at times. I can't even smell when meat has gone bad and everyone else I know says it really stinks, and like I can't tell the difference between chicken gravy and onion gravy, for example, because they taste almost identical to me. And senses aren't just the basic five, either. Do you have a particularly high OR low pain threshold? interoception is the perception of bodily functions. Do you have trouble identifying/noticing when you're hungry/thirsty or when you need to go to the toilet e.g. you didn't need to go pee a minute ago but now you're Suddenly absolutely bursting to go because you didn't notice it earlier at all. Proprioception is your perception of your movements, balance and of where your limbs are in relation to your surroundings. Do you bump into things or fall over seemingly nothing a lot? Have you ever been told/noticed you move "strangely"? Do you ever walk sort of on your tiptoes or toes-first rather than heels-first?

- social issues

do you have trouble reading body language? facial expressions? figurative language? tone of voice? not every autistic person will experience all of the above, I know people who can't read body language but can read tone of voice, or can't read figurative language but can read facial expressions, etc. etc. Personally I struggle with tone of voice a lot, I can't tell when people are being serious or not, or whether they're upset or not, tone of voice doesn't really tell me anything about how they're feeling of what they mean. Figurative language varies, I understand metaphors and I often understand sarcasm, although I won't get it if it's too deadpan, and I sometimes miss hyperbole and think people are being serious. I also can't tell whether people are teasing me or genuinely being mean the vast majority of the time. I tend to rely on speech patterns and word choice a lot to understand people, personally. I pick up on what sorts of words they use in what moods and use that largely to inform my interpretations of their current mood based on the words they're choosing. Do you ever struggle understanding what is/isn't socially appropriate? I overshare a lot bc I don't rlly understand what is "too much information" and what isn't, and I also don't understand really how to treat people differently based on their "social role", like I treat someone like a friend regardless of whether they're a stranger, a classmate, a friend, a family member, a colleague, a boss, a teacher, etc.

- need for routine/dislike of sudden/significant change

this isn't always as clear as like needing an entire day to be a routine, it can be little things. I'll give some examples: I have to brush my teeth in a specific way - I count the number of passes of the brush over each section of my teeth, I have to eat a sandwich in a specific order of bites, many food places I will order the same thing every/nearly every time and I will eat that order in the same way, I wash my body/hair in a certain way/order in the shower every time, sometimes I get weirdly obsessed with symmetry and I have to walk in a certain way and if I step "wrong" I have to hop around on one leg until I feel "balanced" again, I have to do my daily tasks on genshin impact in a certain order, etc. etc. I could probably think of more if I tried. I will often get distressed/overwhelmed/upset if any of these "routines" are disrupted somehow. My original method of eating a sandwich applied to when they're cut across into rectangles, so I used to hate eating triangle sandwiches because I couldn't eat them "correctly" until I figured out a similar way to eat triangle sandwiches, and now I Have to eat them in that way because it's "correct" and I'll feel uncomfortable otherwise. Note that this isn't like OCD because it's not anxiety-based, it's based on the fact that it feels like the "correct" way to do it, and that any other way is simply "wrong" and you don't like doing it "wrong". The need for routine and dislike of change might also manifest in needing to plan things ahead days in advance, you also might be like me and be very capable of impulsively doing things like going out if You decide to do it, but if someone Else suggests it, then you need the preparation time. - stimming/special interests

stimming can be honestly anything. I tap my foot, I sing, I have a whole folder names "stim games" on my phone, I type, I eat, I chew gum, I flap my arms, I scratch fabrics, I smell blankets/clothing. Stimming just means self-stimulation and is absolutely any repeated action that you find soothing/cathartic in any way. Under here I'm also going to mention samefoods: foods that you feel comfortable eating even when you don't feel comfortable eating anything else. Like if too much flavour/smell/texture feels overwhelming, most autistic people will have food/s that aren't at all stressful to eat and they can default to at those times. Mine is a specific brand of chicken nuggets, I'll often fall back on those when eating anything else feels overwhelming but I need to eat Something, and I can usually handle those when I can't handle other things.

as for special interests, they are anything that you're kind of obsessed with. You can have multiple, they can change over your life, but your interest tends to go much deeper than that of a neurotypical person's and you feel a need to know everything about it and struggle to hold conversations about other topics because it kind of just takes over your brain. when I was younger some of my special interests were final fantasy, anime, hello kitty, languages/linguistics has always been a special interest of mine, kpop is definitely one, astrology is also for sure one. I fall in and out of being obsessed enough with genshin to call it a special interest. I had a friend in highschool whose special interest was the periodic table, for a while they were obsessed with the 8 times table, and then it became dinosaurs. My little brother is autistic and his special interest has always been video games, he's really interested in retro games, he loves Minecraft and Mario too, when he was younger it was ben 10 for a while, there was also a period where all he wanted to do as a kid was rewatch the cars movies. Media likes to portray special interests as being academic but they can truly be absolutely anything. A desire to know absolutely everything about trains or flowers or kpop is just as much a special interest as neurology or maths or physics or smth like that.

Another thing I've just thought of to be noted, is hygiene:

some autistic people might appear to have borderline OCD tendencies where they can't handle dirt/mess and need everything to be tidy/clean all the time. This is definitely one of the stereotypes. But struggling with hygiene is just as much a symptom of autism. If you struggle to remember to shower/wash hands/brush teeth/do laundry/etc. that could well be an autism symptom. I found out I'm sensitive to mint and especially to toothpaste, it makes my mouth feel like it's burning and like I'll actually cry if it touches my tongue bc it hurts that much lmao. I discovered a toothpaste that's unflavoured and doesn't foam up and now I can brush my teeth without pain but for a long time I struggled with consistently brushing teeth bc of that. I also struggle with showering bc of being stressed out by wet hair/skin. Sometimes it's also a memory thing, and I forget to do these things. I also absolutely suck at keeping my room clean, idk why I just Really Can't lmaoooooo

I'm certain there are things I haven't covered, these are mostly pulling from my own experiences of autism from myself and those around me. All of this might apply to you, it might not, but I hope it makes sense and has given you a good starting point of things to examine within yourself and questions to ask yourself <3 I wish you well bub and please always feel free to ask more questions and/or talk to me more about your experiences <3

[captaincvans]

Chapter One: Heart Made of Glass

09/30/19

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader 

Word Count: 1667+

Prompt: 8. “I think we should break up.” 

Warnings: Language! Angry!Chris

Series Masterpost

A/N: This is my entry for @my-emotional-self 5K Writing Challenge! This can be read alone, but it is a part of a mini-series for those who want a continuation! Anyways, on to the fic~ If you want to be tagged, please send me an ASK! 

You weren’t one to complain about your boyfriend’s schedule. You knew as an actor, he was usually really busy filming and when he was at home, he made sure to spend as much time with you. This time however, when he came home after filming his last Avengers movie, he was distant and snappy with you. It started just two weeks before he was set to go home, and you chalked it up to the fact that it was his last movie with the people he’s worked with for the last eight years and he wanted to spend as much time as possible focused on them. Then he came home, and he just wasn’t the same person. He didn’t text you when he had landed. He didn’t greet you when he came home. There was no welcome home kiss- let alone a hug. He barely talked to you for the next few days, and every time you two talked, he was snappy and short.

The fights started happening more frequently, all throughout the winter holidays, the two of you were under a thick blanket of tension. This man could fight about anything and everything. He was stubborn and passionate. Those two traits were something you always admired about him. The way he could fight for what he believed was right, and defend those who didn’t have a voice. However, when those traits were used against you, that was a different story. Tonight was another fight, and you couldn’t for the life of you remember how it even started, but you knew the end of that fight was something you would be reliving for a very long time.

You were spending Christmas with his family, opening gifts with the whole Evans clan. The morning was spent baking cookies for the children, and you woke up early to make sure you baked enough for everyone. Once the whole lot was settled in the living room of Lisa’s house, around the Christmas tree, the children starting opening their gifts first. There were a lot of screaming, and excited laughter which made your heart swell with joy. You had a lot of fun picking out special gifts for each of the children after getting to know them in the last few years, and their joyous reactions was much appreciated. For the adults, you got each of his siblings an embossed bathrobe as a running joke when you had a spa day with them, a slightly drunk Scott proclaiming loudly that he wished he had a bathrobe as soft as the ones they were wearing. For his parents, you got something more practical, they were complaining about how their lawn mower didn’t survive last summer, so you got them another one for Christmas so they didn’t have to worry about it when the weather got warmer.

They each gifted you different things. Chris’ siblings all pitched together to get the two of you tickets to an art and wine tour, and his parents had gotten you a knitted blanket, joking about passing it down to your future kids. When you turned to Chris, his shoulders squared and his eyes were hard, glaring at you. You could tell it was making the rest of his family uncomfortable how cold he had been with you. They were used to his clingy ways, always having an arm around you and would never go pass two hours without kissing you at least once. They could feel the tension immediately when the two of you stepped in the house: the forced, awkward smile making it difficult to hide their rocky relationship. 

“I didn’t get anything for you,” Chris said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

Your shock was mirrored with by his family members, who knew Chris to be pretty extravagant with his gifts despite your constant insistence that you did not requiring anything to be that super fancy. “Okay, that’s not a problem! I still got you something.” You pulled out a small box, and handed it to him.

He tore the wrapping paper, not very gently, and opened the box to find two summer passes to Disneyland Park in California. When you found out that his last month of filming for his newest movie was in Anaheim, you jumped at the opportunity to have his stay extended to spend the whole summer in the sun and in the happiest place in the world.

“Oh, cool,” he said, closing the box, and moving on to the next gift.

You deflated slightly at his reaction, hoping for some more excitement. You could feel Lisa’s gaze on you, but chose to ignore it, chalking his reaction to the anxiety he always felt around the holidays. There were a lot of pressure around this time to be happy, and you knew that wasn’t always the case with the two of you.

You had one final dinner with the family before heading home. The original plan was to visit your family for a few days, but those plans fell through when your parents’ flight from Cuba was delayed and your siblings wanted to wait until they arrived home to have the get-together. Both of you entered the house silently, Dodger still with the petsitter until we could pick him up.

“Chris, can we talk?” You started, cautiously approaching him as you knew he was already in a bad mood.

“About what?” He responded with snark lacing his voice, He ran his hand through his hair as he dropped his bag near the entrance of the door.

“It was just really awkward today…”

He rolled his eyes. “Just because I didn’t get you a gift one time?!”

“No, no! It’s not like that- I don’t care that you didn’t get me anything. It’s just… I bought those Disney World passes for us… Daniel said you would be doing the last month of your filming in California so I figured I could take some time off and we can go together after you’re done.”

“So you’re upset that I wasn’t more excited for it? Jesus, you know I hate it when you make plans without considering my plans. What if I don’t want to stay in California after filming? You know I only leave Boston when I have to.”

“I know, but I thought it would be easier for you to stay in California for an extra month, instead of coming back here and having to spend money on another flight there.”

Chris scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “It’s always about money with you, isn’t it?”

“What?! What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and crossed your arms in growing anger. 

“You’re always talking about money- telling me that I should save here and save there when I want something, but when you want something you don’t care about my savings anymore.”

“Chris, I never asked you to-“

“We both know you’re only with me for my money anyways,” Chris spat.

That argument made you stop in your tracks. Never in the two years that you dated the actor had he mentioned that he was uncomfortable with the silent arrangement with your finances. You had paid for flight tickets to visit him whenever you could, but there were a few times when he had surprised you with them as well. Everything in between was just whoever had their wallet out first. There were a few times that Chris had left his wallet behind or you had wanted to treat him, and you paid with no problem. Other times, he paid for your outings. You weren’t an actress by any means, and did not have that kind of money, but you weren’t living off his paycheque either.

“Chris, what the fuck?! You know that’s not true-” you started, but he scoffed. “Chris, I love you for you- I don’t-”

“You love my money. You love being spoiled. Honestly, don’t know why I bothered with you- I basically was just paying you to hang out and have sex with me.”

You gasped, never hearing such hurtful things from Chris, even at his angriest moments.

“I should’ve just gone with a prostitute- they’re probably cheaper and at least they keep themselves in shape. You just look like you’ve really let yourself go- honestly, how much weight did you gain while you were fattening yourself up with my money?”

That broke you. Everything else he had said before that moment, you would be willing to fix and forgive him for, but that statement was the last straw. He knew how insecure you were with your figure, especially for someone who was not an actress or model, dating one, he knew that you always felt not good enough. Compared to the beautiful women in his life that he’s dated, you felt like you were on a whole different world. You had told him of your insecurities during a really vulnerable point in your life, letting him in on years of self-hate and doubt that he had helped you with. Instead, now he was using it against you. All the small, petty fights from the previous month finally tired you out. All the fight you had melted away as your heart ached at his insult. 

“I think we should break up,” you whispered, not knowing what else to say. After packing up most of everything, you turned back to your boyfriend, realizing that there was one more thing you wanted to tell him. “Um- I’m not sure how you want to go about this, but I think you should know anyways, and if you want to call me after you’ve calmed down a bit so we can discuss this-”

“Discuss what?”

“I’m pregnant, Chris.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Really? You’re gonna pull that one on me? I’ve had my share of sluts pretending to be pregnant with my baby. Stop lying to try to tie me down to you. It ain’t gonna work. You’re not getting any more money from me.”

“I’m serious, Chris. I could show-”

“Well, I don’t believe you. You probably got knocked up by someone else.”

“I never-”

“Just get out. I’ll leave your stuff with the concierge downstairs.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to listen to anymore, you nodded and left the apartment you spent the fast few years. It was only in the empty hallways of his apartment that you allowed yourself to crumble down. You don’t know how long you spent in hallways, just crying your hearts out at the loss of your relationship. You felt cold and empty, even moreso in the coldness of the winter season.

(Chapter 2) –>

[allisondraste]

on writing kiddos

Hi, hello there, it’s me again back with the first bit of meta in a really long time. I’ve been incredibly distracted with school as well as my longfic, which was actually the inspiration for this post.  Just to provide some context, I write a story that spans the lives of my two protagonists from the time they are young children, all the way to their mid twenties, highlighting pivotal moments in their childhood that have had some lasting impact on their present day selves, and as such, I have spent quite a lot of time writing from the perspective of precocious kids and moody teens.  

Fortunately, I love kids, and I’ve had years of experience in both being a big sister and working professionally with kids as both a childcare worker and a therapist.  I’ve gotten to spend a lot of time around kiddos and learn the inner workings of their amazing, rapidly developing brains, and so I’m here to share some of the things I’ve learned AND how it can be applied in a writing situation.  I know that lots of people have apprehensions when writing kids, and so I hope that my anecdotal tips will be helpful to someone out there.

I’ll drop the rest behind a handy dandy read more to spare your all’s feeds. ;D

Age and Cognitive Development

When we write adult characters, part of getting their characterization pinned down is understanding how they think, and the same thing applies to kiddos! Cognitive and socio-emotional development are long-researched topics, so there are a multitude of varying theories, and it can be quite complex to break down into neat categories that apply to all kids.  In fact, all kids develop at different rates, despite following the same general trajectory.

Generally speaking, children start out understanding the world primarily through their senses, reflexes, and movements (interactions with the environment), and end with a fairly complex system of abstraction and understanding of hypotheticals.  (Note that these development ranges are based upon those who are neurotypical and neurodiverse characters would not necessarily have the same markers, so if anyone has any specific tips for writing neurodiverse kids and would like to chime in, please feel free to do so!)

0-2 years - highly sensory/motor based, lots of reflexes; learn the difference between self and environment and differences between objects.  Emotions develop more rapidly, beginning with anger, disgust, fear, surprise, happiness, and gradually developing more and more complicated feelings.  Even at 2 years old, they are likely to not have a solid grasp on labeling the ways they are feeling, and things are mostly behavioral and reflexive. 

2-7 years - children begin to understand symbols and develop language, beginning with the basics and progressing to fairly complex thoughts.  Children between these ages think in a very concrete fashion and are highly reliant upon objects, but they do begin to pretend and roleplay. Children around these ages are egocentric and usually struggle to take the perspective of others. However, they begin to develop the ability to identify and express their feelings and thoughts simply, but struggle to understand the thoughts and feelings of others. 

Mommy had a scrunched up face when she looked a the mess in the house. Billy didn’t really know why her face did that sometimes. (approx 4ish)

7 - 11(ish) - Development of perspective-taking and concrete problem-solving. Thoughts gradually become more complex and holistic, though children at this stage of development take things literally, and at face-value. They typically can understand their own feelings and infer the feelings of others from facial expressions, body language, etc., although they may be inaccurate in their assumptions. 

Mommy’s face scrunched up when she looked at the mess Billy made in the floor.  It was the same face she made when Daddy didn’t take his shoes off before stepping on the carpet.  It usually meant mommy was annoyed  (Approx. 7-8)

Mom’s face wrinkled when she looked at the mess Billy had left in the floor.  He began to pick his things up so she wouldn’t fuss at him. (Approx 10 or 11)

11+ - The ability to think in the abstract and understand hypotheticals begins to develop around age 11, however, it’s different for everyone.  Children and teens usually start to have rather complex thoughts and make inferences based on subtle cues.  They’re able to manipulate information mentally and come to develop their own opinions and conclusions. 

Billy’s mother wasn’t even home yet, and he could already see the look on her face she would have when she saw the mess on the floor.  He hurredly began to scrub the stain from the rug.  He was going to be in so much trouble. He knew it.  

Teenagerdom - Most teens have all the complex thoughts and emotions that adults have, but often have less experience and/or ability to cope with and regulate those thoughts and feelings. Many teens are stuck in this place of being expected to behave in an adult way, while still being treated as a child.  It’s a rough time.  Not to mention, teenagers experience a re-emergence of  egocentrism that takes the form of “Everyone is watching and judging me all the time,” and also “Nobody has ever experienced what I am experiencing and if they have experienced it, then they haven’t experienced it to this degree.”  That all settles down with cognitive maturation and experiences; however, the experiences of teenagers often extend well into the 20s. 

Examining the mess on the floor, Billy knew that his mother was going to kill him.  Murder.  She’d chew him up and spit him back out, never to see the light of day again.  It was the end.  Unless of course he could scrub the stubborn stain from the rug.  This had to be the worst thing that could have possibly happened. 

Personal Experience and Intelligence

As I mentioned above, those age ranges are broad, general “this is sort of what should be happening when,” but they’re more guidelines rather than hard and fast rules.  When writing children, it is helpful to consider the personal experiences a child has had in their lives up to that point as well as their intelligence.  Those are not the measure of a person (even a little one), but they make a huge difference in the rate at which a child matures and interacts with the world.  Generally kids who have more difficult upbringings and those who end up parenting themselves and/or caring for siblings, often seem older than they really are, particularly in regard to their behavior. 

Just to provide some examples for reference, the children that I write in my story are mostly nobles who have relatively comfortable, safe, and happy childhoods.  My Cousland, Liss, is generally a carefree, impulsive, emotional, messy, privileged child, and so I modeled her development more closely in line with the “guidelines.”  Nathaniel is also a noble, but he’s more thoughtful, and has kind of been placed into a parental role in that his dad is emotionally abusive at the very least, and after his mother dies, he is the rock that his siblings stand on, and at that point in time, he is only 10.  He has to grow up a lot faster than he may have had to otherwise. As a very strong counterpoint, there are other characters who do not have any environmental privileges during their childhood.  A very good portrayal of this sort of thing is this comparison of Isabela and Hawke’s respective upbringings.

Both intelligence and life experiences can lead to a quicker rate of cognitive development and maturation in some cases, that does not mean that they are “grown up” or in anyway done developing.  Even the brightest kids, even the kids who have faced unbelievable adversity are still kids and they often still experience impulsivity, emotion dysregulation, and other things that one might not see in adults with the same experiences.  Furthermore, some kids may not even experience advanced development, instead regressing from the lack of social support and modeling from attachment figures. 

Basically, nothing is hard and fast. 

Personality

The next thing I wanted to touch upon is personality.  I think there is a tendency to portray all kids as Standard Kids (which I have endearingly coined Standard Kid Syndrome).  It is all well and good if the intention is just to show a Standard Kid; however, if you really want to dig deep into a character, into who that child is, it’s so important to consider personality traits.  From birth, children have dispositions, and as they grow and learn more about themselves and the world, those dispositions become personality.  Personality traits should shine through very early on!  Kids can be open to experience or rigid and anxious, they can be introverted or extroverted, they can be impulsive or restrained, they can be aggressive, meek, funny, serious, meticulous, silly, cool, gruff, grumpy, snarky, sassy, nerdy, quirky, shy, friendly, withdrawn, and so on and so forth.  Children are new humans; they are not incomplete humans. 

The Kid Voice

When writing from the point of view of a child, all of the things discussed above factor into word choice.  Just like writing adult characters, the way a kid talks in dialogue, or narrates even, is influenced by a blend of so many different things.  Young kids’ descriptions are going to have simpler sentence structures and words.  They may introspect less and observe more.  They may express themselves through their bodies and actions more.  They may have trouble describing what they’re feeling, or understanding what they’re seeing.  Teens may describe things more dramatically and intensely than similar adults would.  They may not.  What is important is considering the mix of traits and experiences they have in relation to cognitive development.  It’s really no different from writing any other character.  It just takes research and planning to get in The Zone.

TL;DR

- Understanding how kids think is a good starting point to writing kids

- Personal experiences, intelligence, and the interaction of qualities can influence how a child thinks in a multitude of ways

- Kids have personalities!  They’re not blank slates that have yet to be filled.  They are whole people, and it’s good to give proper care to show those unique, wonderful little minds that they have

- It’s not so much different than writing adults! It just takes some time spent looking through a different lens!

- This is not a comprehensive reference by any means, so please feel free to chime in!

[thistangledbrain]

I’m writing when my schedule allows! Sorry I’m having to lump days together- but here’s 14 & 15. ☺️

Autism Acceptance Month

Day 14!

“Routine”

Good topic!!

We love routine & structure. Breaks from said routine should come with plenty advance warning, usually, because even if it’s an activity we love, if you spring it on us suddenly, we will likely be less than thrilled. (For example, one beautiful summer morning we approached my youngest and said “let’s go to King’s Dominion today!”...he was about 8. KD is one of his favorite places. But he had already started gaming and was *pissed* about the change of plans. I myself only have two scenarios where I take a sudden change in plans in stride: military/high stress situations, and if it’s my idea. Like if I go INTO a situation knowing things might change on a whim, like chaotic times or what to do on any given vacation day, I usually roll with it really well.) Some auties are better with this than others - remember, we’re all different - if you’ve been reading along since the beginning, you’ll remember I said we all sort of have a “mixing board”, and specific traits are at different levels in different people...and it also tends to ebb and flow as we age.

“Routine” also encompasses what we expect in our immediate environment, to me. I remember when I was a kid and my Momaw (grandmother who mostly raised me) changed her frames on her glasses from those black hornrims to more delicate frames, and the lenses were a different shape, too.

Oh. My. God. I hated it. I HATED it. To this day, I scowl when I think about it. It upset me so badly. She was my rock, my steady - and when her appearance changed, I had a very visceral reaction. I don’t remember if I was ever able to articulate what was wrong, but she must have figured it out, because from there on out when she changed her glasses, I was involved in picking new ones. (That made it SO much easier to accept.) On the same topic, my husband has kept his head shaved since well before I met him. He was still in the Marines when I met him (I had just gotten out 3 months prior), and the man I fell in love with had a shaved head and clean face. Since he’s gotten out, I get uncomfortable when he lets his hair get too long...I’ve gradually come to accept and even appreciate his goatee, but when the rest of his facial or head hair gets long between cuts, it makes me squirm. I am usually more distant when he’s all shaggy - it’s not that I think he looks bad, it’s just that it’s not my familiar guy. (Oh and it *is* a sensory issue. I hate the way facial hair feels when it touches my face - mustaches are particularly offensive.)

But back on “daily routine”....this intense love of the structure *again* comes in handy with the behaviorally challenged and traumatized dogs I work with. (Oh yeah - it came in handy raising two autie boys, too, obviously.) I’m hyperobservant of dogs’ behavior & realized early on that disruptions in routine caused upset or even chaos. Dogs who were not destructive became destructive. Dogs who were calm and measured became frantic. So even when *i* get more relaxed about routines, I am cognizant of the fact that it upsets *them*, and we make adjustments for that. Structure and routine are the bedrocks of working with a “broken” dog. Predictability is key until trust and confidence is gained.

Our love of routine and structure also comes in handy in the military. Of course there are times when a lot of unexpected shit happens, but like...you still have a *mission*, if that makes sense, so shit that happens while accomplishing that mission is whatever (again, same with dogs). Adapt and overcome.

But let’s talk just daily (civilian) life, right?

If I don’t set my alarm early enough to drink a good bit of coffee (slowly and undisturbed) and get used to the idea, for about an hour, that I’m awake and now must Person, it’s a bad day, ‘tater. I don’t care if I have to get up at 3 am to have that hour before work or travel, I NEED that hour. Sometimes I wonder how I made it through motherhood...(I guess once again, when it’s important enough, you just suck it up, buttercup). I also have my evening routines that are important, as did my kidlets, growing up.

Screwing with those routines usually means short tempers, hatred of everything around you, sometimes meltdowns, and just an all around bad time for everyone involved.

So if you have auties in your life, understand that they may *need* that nap during that *specific* time of day, meals should be in certain timeframes, and so on. We all have our little rituals, too, and when those are disrupted, we get disgruntled. We tend to resist changes...even introducing a new food dish or, say, not having spaghetti on Tuesdays when you usually have spaghetti on Tuesdays, your favorite mug not being available for use/lost/broken & now you have to use a different one, not getting to shower before work if that’s your usual, things like that can cause MASSIVE anxiety. I don’t know about other people’s Autie kids, but I know MINE handled routine disruption/change *so* much better when *involved* in the change. Like, sorry that it’s bedtime, but you have choices in what jammies you want to wear, what story you want read, and so on. I know I’m making a new thing for dinner tonight - how about you come help me make it? Stuff like that.

So...I’m ending this post rather abruptly awkwardly & I’m aware it’s a little redundant and scattered, but it was written over the course of 2 days because I’m busy with a dog and a stressed out teenager lately. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Sorry about that!

————————————-

Day 15!

“Everyone should know”...

I could probably keep adding to this post daily. Sigh.

Everyone should know even nonverbal autistics have something to say - you should read their blogs & find out. Everyone should know it offends and hurts us when you treat us as lesser somehow - especially if we know we’re smarter than you, to be frankly honest. Everyone should know autism is a *developmental* “disorder”, NOT an intellectual one - the weirdest, hand flapping, rocking, screeching, seeming mess of an Autie might be one of the most brilliant writers you’ve ever read - I’m dead serious. Everyone should know we all have a voice but sometimes do need some help finding it (and “voice” doesn’t mean just speaking.) Everyone should know talking about autism like it’s an “epidemic” that needs to be “eradicated” invalidates our very existence, and I don’t think I need to expound on what that must feel like, yes? Everyone should know that most (maybe all, idk) of us *would not change* the fact that we are autistic - we aren’t “suffering” with it, YOU are, apparently. We’re occasionally *frustrated* with our brains, but a whole lot more comfortable with how we are than a lot of neurotypicals seem to be. Everyone should know that if someone seems “mildly autistic” (which is what is said about me by people who don’t KNOW me 🙄), know that YOU experience my autism mildly - I don’t. We KNOW you don’t approve...we either hide (mask), or we flip you the big middle finger and say “too damn bad” - and both are usually true with autistic women. (Lots of us start off trying to fit in, but really run out of patience with it. I’ve noticed most of the boys don’t seem to give a flying shit about “fitting in” from jump street LOL...) Everyone should know a LARGE percentage of us are NOT heterosexual. Everyone should know neurodivergence has always been within the human species - it’s just we have more names for shit now, and it’s a little more more socially acceptable to be different, so there are more people “living out loud”, as it should be. Everyone should know that lots of delayed autistic kids grow up to be brilliant scientists and engineers and contribute massively to society - look at Einstein. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Everyone should know we’re human beings, and should be treated as such. xx

[lifegamified-blog]

Final Thoughts

Hannah A.’s Final Thoughts

Week 2: This last week of using these apps certainly brought up some underlying truths to my daily routines and behaviors.

Pocket Points

Within this final week of using this app, I had the recurring problem of not being able to connect to the University of Oregon campus’ location. To compromise with that, I used the “goal mode” during class to help me earn some points and jump forward on the leaderboard. I was able to earn about 6 points for every hour spent in class. Towards the end of the week, I received a notification from my phone asking if I wanted to continue to allow Pocket Points to follow my location. Following my curiosity, I quickly clicked “Yes” and went back into the app to see exactly where they were tracking me. It was brought to my attention that the app was tracking my location whenever I was in a car and driving. Without the app being open it was tracking my distracted time behind the wheel! This wasn’t something that I was aware of and in all honesty, I didn’t like that factor. I was wondering as to why the battery on my phone was getting drained and I believe this was the reason why. I took a further look into what the app was tracking during my drives and it had tracked every time I had picked up the phone. To my surprise, the result of the distracted minutes was not pretty. I’m not a person that texts and drives, but I occasionally pick up my phone to change a song. At the end of the week, my place on the leaderboard was still in the “BabyLeague” and I racked up 52.71 total points. I feel that if I were able to figure out how to gain points while on campus during the first week, I would have been further up the leaderboard. My final rating of Pocket Points is ⅘. When reflecting on Jesper Juul’s reading, “A Casual Revolution: Reinventing Video Games and Their Players”, I would identify Pocket Points to be a casual game. Pocket Points gives users the opportunity and flexibility to be as competitive as they want to be with little skill, (8). This app is meant for everyone and anyone who would like to improve their productivity, but with a nice gamification twist to it.

Habitica

With my final week of using Habitica to track my daily routines, habits, and to-do’s I found that my productivity levels hadn’t changed as they would have before I started using the app. I really did enjoy the interactivity with my partner, Hannah H., and our ability to cheer each other on in the chat room. In addition to that, I enjoyed gaining more power-ups and points to buy more armor for my little character. I have never been a person to play video games, but the customization and gamification aspect of Habitica has increased my interest in playing retro-styled games. That being said, in relation to Adrienne Shaw’s article, “Do you identify as a gamer?”, they focus deeper on the identification or label  of being a “gamer”. Shaw cites, “How people identify as gamers, is a different question from who counts as a gamer. As Hall (1966) argues, identification allows for the self-definition of the individual, rather than on static definitions of identity applied from the outside, (30). In my opinion, I do not classify myself to be a gamer because of my lack of knowledge in each gaming community and short interest. But that being said, I would consider myself to be a casual gamer who every now and then enjoys playing mobile games in short bursts, (Juul). I feel that this app suits casual gamers as they are able to be competitive with themselves and others, but at a risk to improve their own productivity. My final rating for Habitica is a ⅗ -- the app doesn’t quite suit me for my interests, but I do appreciate the fun and adorable customization of my character.

MyFitnessPal

Week 1 was difficult for me while I was using MyFitnessPal because of my sickness. I went into week 2 with greater expectations for myself, but I still felt sick and had a hard time eating. Rather than being hard on myself with tracking the food I was eating, I went ahead and tracked my water intake. I actually found this part of the app to be extremely helpful in my recovery as I was eager to reach my daily goal of 75 oz every day. I would fill up my 24oz HydroFlask and set a reminder on the Habitca every few hours to finish the bottle. This portion of the app was short and direct, but it was the most helpful for me this past week. Though this wasn’t a game within the app, I would define this practice to be a game that I created for myself. In Jane McGonigal’s book, “Reality is Broken: Why Games Make Us Better and How They Change the World”, she identifies a game to have four defining traits, “a goal, rules, feedback system, and voluntary participation”, (21).

For this practice I created for myself all four traits are identified:

Goal: Drink 75oz of water each day

Rule: Finish 24oz HydroFlask filled with water every 3 hours. If the water isn’t finished, add the oz to the next hourly goal.

Feedback System: Track the oz in the MyFitnessPal app and the goal is complete when the total oz of water hits 75

Voluntary Participation: Myself

My final rating for this app is a ⅘. I could see myself using this app in the near future as I recover to track my daily intake of food with a greater mindset.

Hannah H.’s Final Thoughts

In hindsight, doing this experiment while so much was going on in the outside world created uncontrolled variables that could have easily influenced the outcome. However, I discovered more of an application of course readings in the process. First, I learned the difference in concepts of “gamers” and how we envision ourselves when we put labels on others. Coming into this course, I definitely had room for education on the cultural importance of video games. I had always envisioned gamers in a negative light and played in fear of becoming them. However, reading excerpts from authors who fought that image and redefined gamers in general changed my outlook. From our reading, “A Casual Revolution” by Jesper Juul, “The stereotype of a casual player is the inverted image of the hardcore player: this player has a preference for positive and pleasat fictions, has played a few video games, is willing to commit littl etimee and few reesources toward playing video games, and dislikes diffiicult games” (8). I identified with this definition, although it is mentioned in the essay as a stereotype. Despite my dislike of playing serious games, I do enjoy casual and inclusive games, like Mario Kart Wii and mobile version, Super Mario World and Wii Sports. My reluctance to identify as a “gamer” earlier was all hinged on my mental image of what I thought they looked like.

Through the process of this two-week trial, I also found that gamified experiences make things more attainable for me. Setting goals is more interactive, and once I was in a pattern of tracking aspects of my lifestyle, it was hard to stop without feeling like I was taking significant steps backward. I found a great description for this experience in “The Definition of Games and the Classification of Games”, when Caillois writes, “...In this fixed space and for the given time, by precise, arbitrary, unexceptionable rules that must be accepted as such and that govern the correct playing of the game. If the cheater violates the rules, he at least pretends to respect them” (125-126). To apply this scenario to my use of gamified life-tracking apps, my initial “cheating” was when I avoided logging all my food to feel better about myself at the end of each, While this sort of cheating isn’t like peeking at the deck of cards or using a cheat code, it still misrepresents my standing in the game. Therefore, it is breaking the “rules” of use, and is considered “pretending to respect them”. The “rules” that I agreed to follow were the basic assumptions of the app: to log all food, water and exercise. Without the following of these precise guidelines, the app cannot possibly help the user accomplish what it promises. Caillois then writes, “The point of the game is for each player to have his superiority in a given area recognized” (132). We can apply this definition to MyFitnessPal and Habitica. Both offer a social networking feature, providing updates on friends’ diets and exercise. This provides an outlet for “superiority” to be recognized and makes the game an externally competitive experience instead of purely internal.

These apps also appeal to wider audiences than traditional video games. They are free and allow anyone with a smartphone to be a user. Second, they eliminate issues with on-platform sexism. Users can easily “play” without revealing a gender, which allows them to remain more introspective. The avatars in Habitica, for example, are very primitive compared to those in serious video games, which Martey et al. discuss in “The Strategic Female” reading. “...Avatars are understood as a means for conveying player humor, displeasure, intrigue, and interest, via cues that reveal motivation, identity, and background such as gestures, movement, and language” (286). Since Habitica’s “avatars” are still and nonverbal, they cannot display “player humor” or “displeasure” users cannot use them to hide behind as a shield to bully and abuse their anonymity. This app is therefore very accessible to marginalized populations, including women, men and women of color, and differently-abled people, who are most often harassed online after revealing their identity. Habitica felt like a safe and positive space compared to many I’ve experienced in games before.

All in all, this two-week experience gave context to class readings and enhanced my understanding of course material. I learned that calorie counting is not a healthy thing for me to do at this stage in my life, and that not needing to “perform” as a true avatar makes gamified experiences much more accessible for me and my somewhat fragile self-image. I plan on continuing my use of Habitica in the future, and I will continue to track my liquid consumption through Drink Water Aquarium. I will also use the MyFitnessPal app to continue tracking my workouts, but not diet, and I would definitely do this experiment again with other highly-rated life tracking apps.

[just-an-anxious-mess]

Looking Back

Part 2

Trigger Warning: mentions of blood, character death, sorry in advance :P

Seven minutes.

That was all the time Logan had left if his calculations were correct and they usually were. The chances of him making a mistake were

"infinitesimal"

"You make one mistake and this is what happens!"

Logans lips twitched up into a small smile as he remembered how much Patton enjoyed bringing that mistake up.

He'd felt sort of upset at first but Patton had explained that he didn't mean any harm, it was just mild teasing. It became a sort of affectionate little joke and it became more worrying if Patton didn't bring it up.

Patton had started out as such an annoyance to begin with, someone Logan dreaded spending time with, but he'd grown rather fond of the pun loving trait.

Each time they interacted Logan couldn't help but feel warmth in his chest which started out small and then grew until whenever he even thought about Patton he'd be filled with a fuzzy warm feeling.

Logans smile faded slightly as he thought of what had happened when he'd tried to understand that feeling.

He'd been reluctant to go to any of the others for help and had at first tried to research it online but came up with barely any reliable results.

He'd reluctantly tried to seek help after that had failed.

Logan coughed violently and winced as he checked his watch.

6 more minutes left.

He thought of how he'd gone to Virgil first, having felt more comfortable talking to him as he was the least likely to point out that he lacked knowledge of something and required help from someone else.

"I dunno maybe it's just heartburn or something?"

"It is highly unlikely to get heartburn so frequently and at such a coincidental time."

"Alright, whatever then, why did you come to me in the first place? Surely one of the others would be better at explaining? Patton is literally Thomas's heart, Roman's also good with emotions and stuff, Thomas might be able to help and heck, even the snake would be better at this than me."

Virgil had tried his best to help but neither of them were particularly good when it came to expressing or talking about feelings.

Thinking of Virgils comment about Deceit being more helpful made Logan chuckle slightly.

Deceit was never very helpful when anyone asked him a question, he loved toying with them, switching between lying and telling the truth.

Logan had found that out the hard way when he tried to figure out just how many snake mannerisms he had.

"do you require other sources to heat you up or are you warm blooded still? Do you have scales in other places? Do you shed your scales? Do you have a third eyelid that comes down over your serpentine eye? Do you produce any sort of venom? Do you have specific dietary requirements? How often do you have to eat? Is one huge meal enough for several weeks or do you eat regularly like the rest of us? Can you unhinged your jaw to fit bigger items in your mouth? Are your teeth sharper than normal? Can you... "

"Sssssstop! Has no one told you that you talk to much? If you want the answers to your questions you need to sssssssshut your mouth and let me speak."

"my apologies, go ahead."

"my answers are yes."

"excuse me?"

"You're excused."

"I... I was asking you to... Nevermind. What I meant was, what do you mean by your answers are yes?"

"I mean exactly what I said LoLo."

"yes doesn't answer all of the questions properly though, what do you... Deceit! Come back!"

"nah, I've got other things to do which I definitely don't want to do right now. I'd much rather listen to your inane questions."

"Deceit!"

Deciet had never answered any of Logans questions so he'd had to try and figure them out himself through careful observation.

Logan felt a judder of pain radiate through him and he winced.

5 more minutes.

While Deceit was infuriating with his lack of answers it was nothing compared to Roman. Roman was quite possibly the most annoying person Logan knew, constantly overcomplicating things, so blinded by his love of fantasy and romance that he never stopped to think things through realistically.

The two had definitely disagreed on a lot of things due to that but Logan wouldn't have changed any of it. So many times they'd argued only for them to suddenly realise that both of them had valid points that could then be put together to form an almost perfect solution. Not to mention the rap battles. Logan grinned as he remembered the first time when he'd shocked everyone with his ability to rap.

"where.... Where did that come from?"

"I have an appreciation for poetry"

"Aaaaaaaaaah!"

The scream of excitement from Patton coupled with the stunned disbelief on Romans face had definitely made that a memorable moment.

He and Roman actually found they shared a lot of common interests, poetry being one of them and Shakespeare being another. Obviously they liked those things for different reasons but that didn't matter.

4 minutes.

Logan closed his eyes, holding back a groan of pain. When the pain faded slightly he sighed.

"to quote Shakespeares Sonnet 60: Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,

So do our minutes hasten to their end;

Each changing place with that which goes before,

In sequent toil all forwards do contend."

He coughed and spluttered violently after saying all that aloud before shoving a hand over his mouth to muffle the noise. The last thing he wanted was for the others to hear.

He shook his head as tears slid down his pale cheeks. He didn't have many regrets but his biggest one was definitely his own pride. He was too prideful to ask for help even when it was the only logical solution. He guessed it probably had something to do with his own ego. He hated appearing as if he had no control or knowledge of something but when he did it didn't help if one of the other traits pointed it out.

His damn pride was the reason he was in this mess to begin with.

He could feel his lungs protesting as he took a shaky breath and just about managed to glance at his watch again, his limbs becoming harder to move as he grew weaker.

3 minutes.

He leant his head back against his bedroom wall, closing his eyes as he thought of how this would effect Thomas.

He had purposefully told the others he was not to be disturbed no matter what today. They'd all had at least one issue with his request but upon seeing his dead serious expression they'd allowed him the whole day to himself.

He wasn't sure if Thomas knew though and the last thing he needed right now would be to get summoned because what was happening had some effect on Thomas that made him panic and call for Logan.

Logan hoped the others wouldn't pick up on what was happening because it wasn't exactly like he could lock his door to keep them from bursting in.

2 minutes

Logan glanced at his bedroom door a small choked laugh coming out of his mouth as his eyes struggled to focus on the empty space where the lock used to be. He only had himself to blame for the lack of a lock on his door and remembered how he'd cursed at himself for managing to get on the wrong side of Patton for once.

"Logan Sanders! What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"mphmmph."

"give me that jar right now! I already told you Dinner is going to be in 20 minutes!"

"mmmph.... It's mine!"

"Logan! I swear to dog if you don't open this door I will ban you from eating Crofters ever again!"

Patton had gotten Roman to kick open the door, breaking the lock in the process, and had then confiscated the jar and spoon Logan had in his hand. Logan was banned from eating Crofters for a long time and it was only recently he'd been allowed it again. Not that it really mattered anymore.

Logan screwed his eyes shut as he felt a stabbing pain in his chest and lungs everytime he took a breath. He had a single minute left. 60 seconds and then it would all be over.

He forced his eyes open and looked around his room, tears running down his face as his vision blurred slightly.

Not having a lock on his door had made it more difficult to hide what had been happening and he'd had to think up some rather ingenious places to hide the evidence, just in case someone burst in.

Logan felt something rising in his throat but could no longer lift his arms so he couldn't muffle the choking cough or stop the blood from trickling out of his mouth.

30 seconds.

His breathing was laboured and he shut his eyes. He thought once more back to Patton and the smallest of smiles spread across his lips as he remembered the one instance that had solidified his love for the moral trait.

"Logan could be a Gryffindor."

"and why is that Patton?"

"because he's my hero."

Logan started choking as his lungs seemed to stop functioning completely and he began to think of everything he’d to say to Patton if he had been there at that moment.

10 seconds.

"Patton I love you"

9.

"I'm sorry for everything."

8.

"I didn't want to trouble you"

7.

"it was easier this way"

6.

"me and my damn pride"

5.

"I never wanted you to see me like this"

4.

"if you're the one to find me I'm sorry"

3.

"I'm so fucking sorry"

2.

"maybe I should have said something sooner."

1.

"back when I first started coughing up  p  e  t  a  l  s "

Logans body went limp, a glistening string of blood and petals coming out of his mouth from where he'd fallen victim to the hanahaki disease.

Tags:@amethystdarkwolf @mcfreakin-childproof-caps @patchworkofstars @kitkat-doodles @unikornavenger @dolphin-squirrel @sympathetic-deceit-trash @starryfirefliesbloggo @cakercanart @neonb-fly @kaymischief25 @punsterterry @aprilthevene @theoddkidnextdoor @fuckingemoace @i-sold-my-soul-to-thefandom @im-so-infinitesimal @sea-blue-child @thecatchat @iris-sanders-athena @saphael-malec102 @smedenn @corkeecoderyt @sopi-montezzz @illogicaldeath @deadpanstar

[notontumblr]

Character Analysis: Rean’s Opposite (CS1/2 spoilers)

Okay this gonna be super long and maybe pointless, but Trails is very big foreshadowing and catching people by surprise so I might as get my thoughts out there. 

So lots of people talk about Crow and Rean’s differences and insinuate how they're opposites. It's an easy claim to make, but I'm going to argue that while Rean sure has an opposite, it's not Crow. If anything, Rean and Crow are two sides of the same coin.  While there's some opposing traits- they are fundamentally the same deep down. You could write an entire essay on this and their relationship, it’s a very important relationship. But I'm not here to talk about Crow. I'm here to talk about Rean's true opposite.

And that is Elliot Craig. 

There’s a lot of ways they differ in ways that had to be intentional, so I’ll just break it down into categories. 

Battle Abilities

I’ll start with the most obvious one - Rean and Elliot are opposites in fights. Rean is a melee DPS/Tank while Elliot’s a Healer/Ranged DPS. In other words, Rean is a sword fighter while Elliot’s a mage. 

Their crafts are also pretty opposing too. Both of them get their buff craft early on. Rean’s boosts Strength and gives a little CP (the power meter that goes up when you give or take damage), while Elliot’s boosts defense and heals HP. Rean favors going on the offense, while Elliot favors defense. Their other crafts don’t share much overlap either:

Rean: Physical attacks with an increased chance to unbalance enemies. Meant to lay on the hurt whether it be him hitting as many enemies as possible, causing burn status (which causes extra damage each turn), or even being extra enough to summon his robot friend to step on baddies. In CS2 he even gets a special form that increases his damage output. 

Elliot: Only two attack crafts that can’t unbalance enemies. Instead of laying on the hurt, he puts enemies to sleep. His other crafts are a healing craft and one that scans enemy data - in CS2 this gets upgraded to one that will decrease the enemies attack strength when he scans - once again showing he’s favors defense. He’s also the only character with a healing S-Craft. 

Even their elements are opposite. Rean’s elements are Fire and Time (aka darkness), while Elliot’s are Water and Space (aka light). 

Backgrounds

Obviously with the reveal near the end of CS2 of Osborne being Rean’s dad, CS3 goes more into his past and gives more to say about this. But since that hasn’t been localized, I’ll just keep it to info we know from CS1/2 to spare people spoilers.

First, it’s easy to point out their social classes. Rean is an adopted noble from the countryside while Elliot’s a commoner that grew up in a big city - you couldn’t have more opposite upbringings. Sure, Rean is a commoner by birth, but his birth dad is none other than the most powerful and well known commoner in the country. Meanwhile while Elliot’s dad is a commoner with some status being a Lt. General - it’s much more limited, and only people involved with military are familiar with the name.  

Both Rean and Elliot have one sister - Elise is younger while Fiona is older. That makes the relationship dynamic fundamentally different. Both Elise and Fiona really care for their brothers, but Rean is overprotective of Elise while Fiona is the one whose overprotective of Elliot. Even their personalities are pretty different- Elise is a Tsundere through and through. Meanwhile Fiona is sweet and cheerful- but is a force of nature when she wants something. If you talk to the Craigs during the 2nd day of the school festival, you find out even Craig the Red is intimidated by her. 

Speaking of fathers, let’s talk about their relationships with their living parents. Elliot’s relationship with his dad is the focus of his character arc. When Elliot first talks about him, you get the impression that he’s an aloof and intimidating figure that’s trying to push Elliot to be like him. However when you actually meet him.......the stories don’t quite line up. 

While Olaf IS a pushy and intimidating figure, he’s also a very loving dad that openly affectionate and tries to be there for his kids. He even makes sure to attend Elliot’s concert at the school festival despite the worsening situation in Crossbell.  

Even his pushiness has more noble reasons behind it. If you choose to spend time with Elliot during the bonfire, he says this about what he realized with his dad:

"He wasn't against me going to the music academy because he was against me pursuing a career in music. He didn't want me to lock myself into it. He wanted me to be able to decide for myself just what path I wanted to follow. And more importantly, he wanted me to have the strength to do so, even if people around me tried to stand in my way..."

While Elliot says he’s just speculating, CS2 shows that he’s not far off. After reuniting with his son and seeing how strong Elliot’s become, he tells Elliot he’ll support him in whatever path he chooses. Olaf Craig wants his kids to be independent and strong enough to fight for that independence - even if it means going against him.

Another important element of Olaf's parenting? Is his honesty with his kids even when it’s an ugly truth. One example is when Fiona gets captured, the Craig kids know that if their dad has to choose between his duty and their lives- he’ll choose his duty no matter how much it hurts. Imagine a dad as loving as Olaf having to admit that to his kids. Even if it’s questionable if there’s a point of being TOO honest with your kids (hearing how your dad would let you DIE if necessary couldn’t have helped Elliot’s self-esteem issues, I’m just saying), it’s clear he feels it’s better to be honest no matter what.

Rean’s parents, adopted and biological, are the opposite. Let’s start with the Schwarzers. They are a nice and loving folk when you meet them, not at all intimidating. But they actually have their own ambitions for him, revealed mostly in the Drama CD for the CS1 Ymir trip. Rean’s mom wants Rean and Elise to get married and take over his father’s lordship - even though Rean doesn’t want that. While their intentions aren’t necessarily bad ones (though wanting him to marry his adopted sister is worrying), they're planning to use Rean for their own dreams.

And then there’s the honesty thing. The Schwarzers aren’t honest with their kids. Elise didn’t find out Rean was adopted until she was 12, and as for Rean? They pretend they don’t know who Rean’s birth parents are, but you find out in CS2 they knew all along. This exchange in the drama CD sums up their stance on ugly truths:

Rean: The reason why I want to learn more about myself is because I want to become the real Rean Schwarzer. To be proud as a member of this important family, and at the same time, as a comrade for my friends. Therefore, I must find the truth no matter what it takes. Teo Schwarzer: ...No matter how cruel the truth may be?

This shows Teo Schwarzer’s willing to lie and hide things if he feels the truth is too cruel. His stance is a sympathetic one. He wants to shield their kids from the ugly truths as many parents are tempted to do. But in the end, it just ends up hurting their relationship with Rean more than anything else. 

But at least the Schwarzer’s hearts are in the right place, unlike that asshole of a biological dad. Osborne isn’t even subtle about his willingness to use his own son for his ambitions. The moment the civil war ends, he throws his son into helping him conquer Crossbell. As for not being honest, well the fact he hid his identity as Rean’s father until Rean remembered something says it all. While Olaf is raising his kids to be independent adults with a full understanding of the world, Osborne sees his son as a tool that’s on a need-to-know basis. 

Personality

It’s pretty easy to see where Elliot and Rean differ in personality. While Elliot’s timid, Rean’s outspoken. Rean enjoys fighting, Elliot would rather play music. Rean notices girls on several occasions, Elliot notices the guys more during swim class. Rean is regularly in the center of attention, Elliot is regularly overlooked both in game, and by fans. The list goes on about how their personalities differ, but there’s one major theme:

If there’s one thing everyone knows about Elliot it’s that he’s obsessive about music. He practices constantly, he’s a perfectionist, his room is full music stuff- literally he’s a stone throw away from being an Ace Attorney character his obsession is so strong. But if you look carefully, it isn’t so much about music as he’s someone who when he devotes himself to something, he does it at 200%. In the last dorm visit while most characters express something vague like “our paths will cross again” or agreements to meet up sometime if you pick them for their closest bond, Elliot says this: 

In other words, Elliot is the one character that REFUSES to break up or put his relationship on hold. He’s too devoted. Notably, you get his first S-Craft only after he decides he’s glad to be at Thors and becomes determined not fall behind everyone. 

Rean on the other hand is a drifter that doesn’t commit. He studied 8 Leaves, but he stopped after beginner’s rank. He learned the lute, but he wasn’t serious about it and fell out of practice. He never joins a club (seriously Rean would’ve it killed you to join Fishing Club??). At the end of CS2 when it comes time for Class VII to separate so they can pursue their own goals -- Rean doesn’t really have one, so he stays at Thors, because it’s the only place he ever felt like he belonged. 

Character Arcs

Let’s start with where Elliot and Rean were at the start of CS1

Elliot: Pressured to be in the military by his father. Not confident, and a bit at a loss at what his future would be. 

Rean: Enrolling in Thors despite it putting his parents out. Fairly confident in pursuing his plan of easing his perceived family’s burden after graduation.  

Now look at the end of CS2 where they were at:

Elliot: Enrolling in the Music Academy despite his father’s original wishes. Armed with confidence, he committed to a plan to find a way to use music to help the world. 

Rean: Pressured to be in the military by his father. Confidence shaken, at a real loss about his future.  

The situations are different obviously, but they basically switched places over the course of two games.  Generally speaking when stories do that, it’s intentional for some reason or another.

What does it all Mean? 

Truthfully? It might mean nothing. Or it might not. 

It’s impossible to say until CS3 and 4 get released and localized. Maybe Elliot will have an important role to play in the Erebonia arc, or maybe there was a plan and they scrapped it. Or maybe it’s a red herring. With the Trails series, it is hard to tell because they really do like to give hints along the way that you don’t pick up until later. 

But I do believe it’s not all coincidental. For one, in the character line-ups Elliot is almost always listed right after Alisa (the designated main heroine) in terms of importance. And second?

They outright say it in the game.

Thank you all 2 people that read this, this has been my TED talk. 

[odilestory]

Two Years - Super!Reader x Tim Drake

pretty long one shot with Jon’s sister (superman’s daughter) and Tim Drake. *SLIGHT NSFW BUT NOTHING SERIOUS* towards the end. also mostly based off Super Sons,,,enjoy! 

--

Being a Kent is about as normal as you’d expect. Obviously, my brother and I inherited my dad’s powers, those being dominant traits (I’m guessing). I remember when I gained my first ability; the super hearing. I was around three years old, in preschool. Now, when you first get the ‘super traits,’ you can’t control them. At all. So, when a kid woke up crying during nap-time, to me it sounded like someone was blowing a trumpet right next to my ear, and I woke up bawling as well. At six, I got the heat vision while in the bath. Thankfully, mom figured out she better take me out of the tub before I boiled myself. At seven I got the strength. I saw two kids fighting on the playground and decided to step in. I interfered by pushing one of the kids, but much to my dismay I didn’t push him to the ground. I pushed him across the school yard. That was an interesting call home. But, by far the most exciting power I gained was when I was eight. That’s when I started flying, and boy was dad excited. Mom was concerned, but she trusted me (even though I was eight) and she trusted dad to help me with it. We had just gotten a trampoline (I think it was a birthday present for me and Jon) and of course, I had to try it out. I remember Mom holding Jon next to Dad while I jumped. One, two, three, and on the fourth, I stayed up there. Just hovering. I looked at my Dad, confused at first, but soon we both smiled at each other and he flew up to meet me. The rest of the powers came over the years. Flying will always be a major perk of being a Kent.

Now I’m seventeen and Jon is ten. I’m a senior and Jon is in fifth grade. We both go to the West-Reeve School, of course he’s in their elementary program and I’m in the high school. We used to go to public school, but Bruce (Dad’s apparent best friend and semi-local billionaire) made quite a donation to the school and insisted that Jon and his son Damian, a.k.a. Robin (did I mention Bruce is Batman?), go there in exchange for their own heroes-and-vigilantes-in-training-headquarters as I like to call it. I had friends at the school, so when Dad told me Jon was going and asked if I would like to, I said sure. The only catch being I had to drive them back to our house everyday. Damian usually stayed at our house after school to do homework. To get home, he usually got zeta beamed back to Gotham via their HQ. Occasionally, I use the head quarters as well, but mostly to monitor Jon and Damian. Some nights, however, I meet up with Batgirl in Gotham and patrol with her under the mantle Supergirl, soon to be Superwoman in about eight months. We’re good friends with the bat-family. After all, I drive one of them home everyday. They’re kinda like my older brothers and sisters in a way. Whenever we would visit them or visa versa, Dick would always entertain me while Dad and Bruce talked about League stuff.  Jason taught me a lot about self defense, and even though I would probably never need to know, he taught me how to shoot a gun (much to Dad’s disapproval). Damian was like the annoyingly rude little brother that I never knew I wanted. Steph, Cass, and Babs are like my sisters. We even have a group chat dedicated to bitching about our brothers. Tim was different though. As embarrassing as it is, I’ve had a crush on him ever since I met him at a Wayne Enterprises party. I think I was thirteen and he was fourteen. We kinda hit it off at the party I guess, and we started hanging out a lot. His smart matched my smart, and his stupid matched my stupid, even though at times we were either smarter or more stupid than the other. Not long after I caught feelings, and after about a year and a half of crushing, he asked me out when I was fifteen and he was sixteen. Shockingly, we’ve been able to keep it a secret from both our parents. Being vigilantes helps a lot, I’ll just say I’m on patrol with Steph or Babs and instead hang out at his house while Bruce is gone. Alfred and Babs are the only ones who know, and they’re sworn to secrecy and trusted as well. However, I get the feeling Dick knows too; he always gives me these looks when I’m around him and Tim. I’m not worried though, like Alfred, he’s to be trusted.

—

On this particular day, Friday, I had plans to go out with Tim. It was our two year anniversary of him asking me out. I never really kept track of anniversaries, but he seemed to enjoy the thought of it, so I went along. He said he had something special planned, even though as far as I knew we were doing the usual and just hanging out at his place while Bruce was on patrol. We didn’t get to see each other as much lately. He had a lot of cases and he started his internship, which meant he was extra busy. Somehow, he still found time for our time. My first mistake of the day happened before we left the school parking lot. Jon had a big school project on a try-fold that he wanted to put in the trunk. I was waiting for them to get to the car, sitting in the driver seat, texting Tim. I was in the middle of typing when Damian got in the passenger seat and informed me that Jon needed to put his project in the back. I couldn’t open the trunk without the keys (my car wasn’t the newest thing ever), so I left my phone, open, on the seat as I went out to open the trunk for Jon. Of course, in the minute I was out of the car, Damian had noticed I left my phone open. And he found it interesting how I was texting Tim. So, being the sneak he was, he went through as many messages as he could, undoubtedly finding the short “love you”s and “babe”s hidden somewhere in there, because when I got in the car again, we had this weird look on his face like he was trying not to laugh. Or gag. The second mistake wouldn’t have been such a huge factor if Damian hadn’t looked through my phone, but he did. So this didn’t help his developing theory disprove itself: I told the boys I needed to stop at the store and said that I’d buy them a snack if they wanted to come with. I really needed to go to get coffee. For Tim. I figured it would be a nice gift for him. I knew his favorite kind, and the store was on the way home, so I took advantage. Before we started driving I finished my text to Tim, saying “see you later :)” during which I caught Damian trying to take a peek at my phone, but he tried to play it off as stretched him neck. We got out of the car in the store parking lot, I locked the car, and walked into the store with my hand on Jon’s shoulder and Damian on my other side. I made a B-line for the coffee, and left Damian and Jon to pick out their food. It took we a while to find the right kind, so both the boys had found me and their snacks before I could find the right coffee. The boys were quietly bickering next to me. I found it, and picked it up off the shelf checking the price. Damian was quick to notice the one I had picked. He smirked and said, “Is that the one you’re buying?” I responded without looking at him. “Yep. Why’d you ask?” “Well, I couldn’t help but notice that Drake quite enjoys that brand and roast. Any significance?” Damn that kid. Him and his detective mind. Then Jon had to help him out and interrogate me too. “Yeah, sis, you don’t even drink homemade coffee, you only get iced mochas from the shop. Why are you buying it?” They were trying to get me. “A present for a friend.” Was the best I thought of in the moment. “Tt.” Damian made that weird noise and turned, walking to the register. I followed, cursing myself under my breath. If he had suspicion, he was gonna tell Bruce, and then Bruce would call my Dad, and then everyone would know. Including the media. I can just see it now: “WAYNE WARD DATING JOURNALISTS’ DAUGHTER!” Great. The ride back to our house was a nightmare. I could hear Damian murmuring fractions of sentences to himself. He was most likely debating how he should tell Bruce.  When we got back to the house, as I unlocked the door, I heard Damian whisper to Jon, “We need to talk. In your room. And she can’t hear.” I scoffed and set my bag down on the couch, going to get a snack from the kitchen. Mom and Dad were still at work and would be for another hour or so. “Sis, me and Damian are going to my room, and no super hearing! We are having a confidential conversation!” “You got it, hun!” I yelled as Jon ran up to stairs to his room, Damian trailing behind. It was a rule in our house that if someone explicitly said for no powers to be used, then we weren’t allowed to use powers. It’s a big trust and loyalty thing, often used as punishment. Instead of grounding us, we weren’t allowed to fly or use super strength or speed. Which, in a way I guess is grounding us. I decided to get the little weekend homework I had done before my night out. I was going to meet Barbara for dinner and catch up time at 6, and then be at Tim’s at 8. I had never been over there that early, it was usually always after 10, but Tim said Bruce was away on business, so he would’t be there. And Damian went on patrol with Dick whenever Bruce left him alone, so we didn’t have to worry. I was done with homework by the time Mom and Dad got home, around 4:30, and Damian left around then as well, making sure to give me a look before he walked out the door. I greeted my parents as usual when they came home. “Hey!” I said when they walked in “How was work?” “mm, it was good. Nothing special today. Did Damian already leave?” Mom said, giving me a kiss on the forehead before setting down her things. “Yep. Just a few minutes before you guys got here.” “How was your day, sweetie?” Dad lifted me up from my chair and spun me around a few times, making Mom laugh. “And where’s my son?” “Your son is upstairs, hopefully doing homework. My day was good.” Jon ran down the stairs and jumped onto Dad’s shoulders, making him stumble. They started their own conversation as I walked to the kitchen to meet Mom. “Do we have anything going on tonight?” I jumped up and sat on the counter, watching as she took out a snack for herself. “I don’t think so. Why, do you have a date?” “A date? Not on my watch!” Dad commented from the living room, earning a look from his wife. I laughed a bit nervously. “No, but I was planning on meeting Babs for dinner at 6 and then maybe helping her on patrol. Is that ok?” “Fine with me. Clark?” She looked to him. “Alright with me. Just be home before 12. She can handle the rest of the night on her own. And call me if you need any help.” “Ok, Dad.” I laughed and hopped off the counter, putting the books I was done with back in my bag and headed up to put it in my room for the weekend. Before I made it halfway up the steps, I was interrogated again. “What’s this coffee for?” Mom yelled from the kitchen. I froze, but gave her the same answer I gave the boys. “Present for a friend. I’m gonna drop it off on my way to Gotham.” “Ah.”

The rest of the night went without conflict. It took me around thirty minutes to fly to Gotham, so I left at 5:15. I liked to be early. I headed out with a kiss from Mom and Dad and a hug from Jon, a change of clothes and the coffee securely in a bag. I landed in Gotham and changed into civilian clothes and walked to the restaurant Babs said to meet at. I gawked at the sight of it. It looked too fancy and expensive. Bruce was definitely paying for this one. Over dinner, I would find I was right. We just talked about stuff in general. She asked me how it was going with me and Tim, and I told her about our planned meeting. She teased me about it, but in a sisterly way. After dinner, we parted ways and I headed to the manor. I arrived promptly at eight and was greeted by Alfred. “Good evening, Miss Kent. Here for Tim, I presume?” “Hi Alfred! Yup, is he upstairs?” I entered as he stepped aside. “I believe so. Is there a special occasion tonight?” I took off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack. “Two year anniversary, actually.” I smiled at him and he smiled back. “A congratulations is in order, then. Might I ask when you plan on telling Master Bruce?” I sighed. “I have a feeling he’ll find out soon enough.” I turned and headed to Tim’s room. “Whatever you say, miss. If you don’t find him in his room, check the theatre. I saw him there earlier.” “Thanks Alfred!” I hurriedly walked up to stairs and stopped at Tim’s door. I could hear him talking to himself. Cute. I knocked on the door, and then heard some shuffling and a laptop shut. I opened the door and saw Tim finishing writing a note on his desk. I set my bag down on the end of his bed. His room was clean. A rarity. He looked up and smiled at me. “Its been a while.” He said smoothly. “I know.” I walked over to him and put my arms around his neck, and his went around my waist. “Boy, have I got a lot to tell you.” “Well, we’ve got plenty of time. How long can you stay?” “Dad said to be home my twelve. I can stay ‘till 11 just to be safe.” “Sounds good to me.” He smiled and kissed me. Not quickly, but not too slowly either. Maybe for two or three seconds we held onto it. We pulled away at the same time, smiling. “So, what’ve you got planned, lover boy?” I sat on his bed and watched him walk over to me. He stood in front of me, hands on his hips. “If it’s cool with you, I thought we could just hang out. Nothing super special, just fluffy stuff. Watch a movie, cuddle, make out. The basics.” Tim was usually kinda shy and awkward, but we had become so close that he almost reminded me of Dick. Outgoing, and more forward. As just witnessed with the “make out” thing. I laughed lightly. “Sounds perfect. Before we get into it though,” I reached into my bag and pulled out the coffee. “Here’s this. It’s not a lot but you seem like you could use it.” He got this dorky excited look on his face. “Thanks, babe. You didn’t have to get me this, but thank you. So much. I’m sure it’ll be helpful.” He took it out of my hands and gave me a kiss on the forehead, then went to set the bag of grounds on his desk. He turned to me. “Theatre?” He held out his hand. “Theatre.” I took it and we made our way downstairs. We picked an action/thriller movie that got pretty good ratings. Tim was picky about movies. Lucky for him, we barely watched the movie. We were either talking to each other while cuddling or complaining about the movie’s production. We were both quite the critics. Within the last thirty minutes of the movie, we got into a heated make out session that included removing a few garments of clothing. Shirts were no more, but I kept my bra on, I don’t think he minded. I was sitting on his lap, legs hooked behind his back, on one of the couches in the theater room. Last time I checked the time, it was just ten ‘o’ clock. No one was supposed to be home until at least 1 a.m., so we had plenty of time My hand started tracing shapes on his chest and abs, he then moved kiss my neck and collar bones, trying to give me a hickey, earning a soft moan from me. I tried not to be loud. I didn’t want to scar Alfred. We had gone farther than just make out before. We had gone all the way a few times, and I thought tonight would be one of those nights. But before he could take his lips off my neck, we heard: “Drake?” We looked at each other with panic. We were making out, shirtless, and Damian was about to catch us. How embarrassing. “Drake? Are you home?” I quickly handed him his shirt and he found mine, I got off of him and sat next to him, quickly putting it back on and watching him put on his. Damian was gonna get it for ruining my night. “What do we do?” I whispered to him. “I don’t know! If you go upstairs he’ll see you!” “I could speed past?” “He’d still notice…” “Shh! I hear his footsteps,” I put a finger to his lips. “Tim he’s coming in here!” He sighed. We both knew there was nothing we could do. He didn’t even have to say anything, we both knew. Damian walked in. He laughed. The little demon laughed! “So, my suspicions were correct. Between the texts and the coffee, I knew you’d be here, Kent. I told Dick I needed to stop by, and now that I know I was right, I’ll be on my way. Good night, Drake, Kent.” He laughed as he walked out, clearly pleased. After he was gone, Tim and I just looked at each other. We burst out laughing. I fell into his chest and we hugged each other, just enjoying each other’s company. It was almost eleven now, I would have to leave soon. “Thanks for the coffee, babe.” “Thanks for the hickey, sweetie.” I gave him a kiss, said goodbye, gave him a final kiss, and flew off.

I got home at 11:34. I unlocked the door and saw Dad in the kitchen. I figured he had just gotten back from a crisis. “Welcome home.” He walked over to me. He looked tired. “Were you in the city?” I asked as he hugged me. “Yeah, had to check something out. It wasn’t major. Only took an hour.” “Ah. Well, I’m goin’ to bed. Night.” I made my way to the stairs, but again, I was stopped before I made it upstairs. “Why do you smell like…cologne?” I froze again, and sighed. I gave up. I walked back down and sat on the couch. He sat beside me. “Who’s the boy?” I put my head in my hands. He put his hand on my back. I could feel him smiling. “Tim Drake…” He laughed and pulled me to his side. He wasn’t upset at all. He was probably glad it was someone he knew. “How long?” Here goes the shocker. Slowly, I spit it out. “Two…years…” I winced, awaiting reaction. “Two years!?” He pretty much yelled. I heard Mom and Jon coming down the stairs to see what was wrong. I hung my head back on the couch. This was gonna take some explaining.

[mind0fanintellect]

What's on my mind today? 09/25/2020

Good afternoon tumblr and tumblrets!

It's been i believe 7 or 8 months since the whole pandemic began and things are starting to finds its balance? i guess you could say. For me, it's been a lot of reflecting and accepting. I need to expand my mind more though. I know there's more knowledge i can absorb and things i'm still interested in but it's like im still trying to figure myself out. I still have so much things i still want to do. I want to travel, create my own little side job or buisness, have my own platform. I just want to make it out here.

One thing that I need to start coming to terms with is ME. My emotions and mind are still not aligned. Im still trying to make up my mind on what I like and what is my taste, which means i need to start asking myself serious questions everyday to come to an understanding.

What makes me truly happy? (PEOPLE) Right now, the only thing i can think of is the time i was interning in a middle school and mentoring two of the students. I like talking to them and getting to know their personalities. I geniunely like to know what is going on in their minds and their heart. I believe kids dream big and if they believe they can achieve. I would love to see them flourish into the very best versions of themselves. I hope i can really be in the position to make this possible, which is why my ultimate goal is to be a school counselor and be an advocate for the youth. Theres so many negatives in this world that overpower the positives and there needs to be more people that care about children and the rest of humanity to make a difference in their lives. One person can make an impact and if it's one thing i know, I wish i had someone there to tell me i could do it. Tell me that people arent what they seem to be and can lead you to self destruction. Have your own mind and not someone elses. To love what you have and be grateful instead of comparing yourself to things others have. Even though people suck, they don't suck because inside of everyone there is something we admire about them. Why not pick the great traits people have and disregard the bad ones. Everyone is unique and honestly, it amazes me how interesting they can be. The human specie is so ordinary!

[gloieee]

Limbo

Started this post sometime early July and could not finish in classic fashion because the heaviness weighed me down TOO much for me to continue writing. Usually for me writing is catharsis, but this time it felt laborious because it meant I had to sit with my emotions even more so than during my day-to-day (which was already too much to handle). It was hard for me to even listen to these songs then because it made my entire being ache. Yet, of course, cause I loved the pain, I did and anguished in it to paralysis. Most of these thoughts no longer resonate with me, to a surprising extent, but am attempting to pay respects to the pinnacle and hopefully, the conclusion of a long year+ of distress. Here goes, Limbo. 

 8/12/2020 

_______________________________________________________________________

Good News – Mac Miller 

I spent the whole day in my head Do a little spring cleanin' I'm always too busy dreamin' Well, maybe I should wake up instead A lot of things I regret, but I just say I forget Why can't it just be easy?

I think this sums up my days better than any of my own words can. These couple of weeks have been exactly this—spending whole days in my head (doing little else sometimes gleefully, sometimes woefully) attempting some “spring cleaning,” then going on some tangent on things I should fix in my life, attempting to constructively go down memory lane, then things getting too much and wondering the forever questions, “why can’t it just be easy?” 

Regret has become a salient gateway word into my life these past two years, not always consistently, but at least with some regularity. It feels especially shocking cause it really had so little presence prior to this. I suppose, some may say that before a certain age, there are no real consequences to one’s actions, hence, no need for regret. But under that logic, I don’t think at 26, I’m that old either, so I wonder what happened at 24 that began this trajectory. It seems extremely fitting that I couldn’t finish the blog post for “Mistakes” in May 2018, because to be frank, since then, a tinge (or more) of regret has persisted in my days. There have been some lateral moves for sure, but never a vertical move past the regret. Continuing on this thread of analyzing my own past actions, it also appears fitting that I started that 2018 playlist with Unhappy by Outkast/ Big Boi because regret rings profoundly (maybe only) when you’re unhappy with your current state. You don’t see a happy woman ruminating on a thought exercise of what could’ve been. At the time, I included the song based on feeling, (as with everything on this blog), but never really discussed it. 

Might as well have fun 'cause your happiness is done When your goose is cooked

I suppose this was pretty much how I lived my life this past year. I’m trying not to say it as a bad thing, cause it isn’t necessarily, and I have a tendency to romanticize tribulations. I had a lot of fun, even though at moments I got pretty millennial REKT in the process. It’s less the fact that I had fun (and was very healthy (physically)! Which I am grateful for), but that I had little else. I didn’t feel very fulfilled or feel like I knew myself, or my values, or even what I wanted. I lived nonchalantly, maybe even a little numbed, and got wrapped up in a LOT of distractions. Admittedly, it was nice in the moment to care about such light things, to not have to deal with so much heaviness. I remember reveling in it, in my personal conversations and on this blog as well. 

Yeah Right by Joji is my past year in LA told from the perspectives of cynics (aka Me). It’s a simple, almost grossly millennial song. Despite the extremely self deprecative lyrics, I love how the melody feels like a calming, boppy afterthought. There are moments in the track where you’re just super down in the dumps, but also moments when you’re singing with a lopsided, wry, self-taunting smile on your face. 

 Yeah Right – Joji 

Imma fuck up my life    We gon party all night She don’t care if I die  Yeah I bet you won’t try  But you know I don’t mind 

I don’t think my motives were ever as extreme or bleak as “imma fuck up my life” but the general sentiment rings true. There was definitely a pervasive detachedness to my days, and a total lack of “trying”.  And a lack of minding over that fact. 

Yeah, you know I feel right Yeah, you living right now She don't ever pick sides

I unfortunately discovered Joji during the small insanity of quarantine, and of course blazed through all his interviews. I hadn’t fully realized how not picking sides in my life and going along with the flow belied a sense of numbness or ambivalence. This is so how I’ve been feeling/ felt about so many aspects of my life—career, relationships, values, lifestyle. I couldn’t choose anything because nothing pulled at me. I remember telling a friend that I’m at a point of ambivalence where if I had two research projects I would not be able to pick which one to pursue because they would feel all the same to me. I feel almost no sense of what interests me.

Yeah, you bet I go to see you when I'm feeling like a drum without a beat Yeah, you dance so good And I think that's kinda neat

I am/was truly a drum without a beat, just noticing some insignificant thing of slight interest and noting “that’s kinda neat.” Really not a reason to go after a girl/ relationship in the slightest, but I get how it’s all that could be mustered at the moment. And then you shrug and run with it. 

 Another millennial moment of wisdom from Joji about this song:  

It’s not productive but it’s not destructive. And that’s how a lot of people get stuck, in relationships and in life in general. 

This was exactly what was happening during the year. I was not productive AT ALL, but I was still passing, still technically going through the motions, going through the hoops. Life was happening. And I was stuck. 

What you know about love? What you know about life? What you know about blood? Bitch, you ain't even my type

Honestly not super sure how it relates, but to these lines. Joji explains:  

I mean, the way I see life is like, no-one’s special. You’re not born special, if you’re lucky you’re given a certain set of skills and a certain set of resources and you run with them, and then everyone dies. So as long as they know that, and they’re not thinking in a God’s plan sort of way... So just stuff like that

This was interesting as this summer as I was trying to figure out my path and my direction, and grappling with whether I wanted to try to pursue things that I thought I should/ kinda wanted for extraneous reasons/ seemed practical and logical and well desired vs. what I may be better at/ what I knew I wanted before. And there was definitely this idea of a (lost) calling, a larger cosmic reason that I had blindly chosen this much harder and guilt-inducing path. Something that may make it all make sense. I was extensively looking back on my past self and aspirations. I felt like I had forcibly given up things that made me me without gaining the practical traits I had so envied in others; I had become a boring medical student who wasn’t even super productive nor good at medicine. I was obsessed with this idea of a passion, this abstract thing that I seemed to have perhaps had the inklings of at a certain point, but seemed to have lost entirely, all after having sacrificed much to pursue it. It was refreshing to see someone who is an artiste (hohoho) saying these things, since (successful) artists seemed to be the only people who were truly special or passionate enough in what they did, in that they had risked so much stability, and had made it. 

Returning to the song, I love how all these serious questions are raised only to be followed up by a super petty “bitch you ain’t even my type.” And indeed, my many deep queries have no conclusions and I find myself returning to the minutiae of daily life.  

Back to Good News. The utter exhaustion and endless circle of rumination on past days, a desire to fix the pattern, slight hope, and inevitable resignation Mac sings of make me close my eyes to take a deep breath. His tracks from Circle capture so well the fluctuating inner thought processes of those who are struggling to dig themselves out of something beyond their control:

When it ain't that bad It could always be worse I'm running out of gas, hardly anything left Hope I make it home from work Well, so tired of being so tired Why I gotta build something beautiful just to go set it on fire?   I'm no liar, but Sometimes the truth don't sound like the truth Maybe 'cause it ain't I just love the way it sound when I say it   But I heard that the sky's still blue, yeah I heard they don't talk about me too much no more And that's a problem with a closed door   Then I'll finally discover That it ain't that bad, ain't so bad

The coexistence of heaviness and hope is what I’ve always loved about Mac. I’m obsessed with duality, contradictions, and being conflicted because I think it’s what I have so struggled with for my young adult life (Joji also mentions this is a driving force behind his songs). Also, I think inconsistencies are just something that is so humanizing about people. It’s no wonder that my favorite works of art attempt to dissect or observe dualities—The Unbearable Lightness of Being; the esoteric song by the lead singer of a small Korean indie band that I had to pay 50 cents to download and save on my desktop cause it wasn’t on youtube (it is now huzzah). A minor tangent, in the aforementioned song Jo Woong implores someone to tell him what he did wrong because he sure as hell can’t figure it out. And a line that has stayed with me for years: Aren’t people’s fronts and backs inherently different? Or is it just me that’s lacking something... It’s a play on a Korean saying, but it points out the inconsistencies in people in an aching plea for understanding and sympathy. It’s what too many plagued, conflicted individuals are hoping for. 

내가 뭘 그렇게 잘못했는지 모르겠어요 누가 내 잘못 안다면 얘기 좀 해줘요  사람이 원래 앞뒤가 맞지가 않잖아요? 아니면 나만 이렇게 모자란가요  

When I listen to Mac with a clear head, aka not in the throes of depression, I hear the hope in his voice and lyrics. It strikes me and warms my heart even more because I know that the hope has shined through despite the darkness. But when I’m on the other side of the equation, I hear how deep the sadness and pain is, and how the hope is not enough to overcome that. It’s almost worse because I know the hope exists, and yet I can’t get there. It feels like a failure. 

Everybody- Mac Miller 

Everybody's gotta live And everybody's gonna die Everybody just wanna have a good, good time I think you know the reason why   Yeah, sometimes the goin' gets so good Yeah, but then again, it get pretty rough

The fatalism of this song coupled with Mac’s slight falsetto embodies a type of pain that is ineffable. The back and forth of things being good and rough reminds me of an addled and empty-eyed shrug.

Surf – Mac Miller

And the days, they go by Until we get old There's water in the flowers, let's grow People, they lie But hey, so do I Until it gets old There's water in the flowers, let's grow   Yeah, well Sometimes I get lonely Not when I'm alone But it's more when I'm standin' in crowds That I'm feelin' the most on my own And I know that somebody knows me I know somewhere there's home I'm startin' to see that all I have to do is get up and go

Surf speaks more quietly of possibility even during dark times. The faint sense of having known at a certain point that someone knows you and gets it, and that you could feel at peace again, like in a home of sorts. The desire to grow, the slight feeling that maybe, it we let go (of societal perceptions, of greed, expectations?), something could change. But in the here and now, it’s just a sense and not a reality. A hypothetical thought that has not yet passed the threshold for action:

Gotta get goin', goin', goin' before I'm gone

A break from the melancholy for a throwback to myself, which made me chuckle as well as feel a sense of wistful nostalgia. This short and sweet track seems like the perfect modern-day ode to me. My conflicted state of being in awe of and yearning after impractical aestheticism but simultaneously being terrified of and slightly disgusted by the indulgence and recklessness of art and its values has led me to eschew it as a profession but try to implicate myself in it in other ways. I think one of the slightly problematic ways this has manifested is not pursuing art in my own life, but seeking to be a muse in other’s’ artful endeavors. I’ve definitely probably contributed to the problematic male gaze I’ve written papers on, but in all vulnerable honesty, that is how I’ve been in the past. The redeeming qualities of Kota’s muse reminded me of the past, some of the qualities that I had prided in myself. I woefully feel as though I have lost all these qualities--Doing my own thing, riding my own wave, not being affected by others’ values, particularly the more superficial ones, being grounded, reading (hah, but never self help), low-key taking care of my life, knowing what I want.  

She – KOTA the friend 

She do her own thing, she ride her own wave Only twenty people on the 'Gram that she followin' Only post work, she ain't tryna be a model chick She believe in white wine, feet up on the ottoman Low-key, got her own business and she mindin' it If she get your number, you'll be lucky if she lock it in She hella grounded, but the plane trips to BnB stay booked Told me I should read the Four Agreements, it's a great book Cracked a little smile and she threw me back the same look, yea 

Slowing it down, this song sounds like a warm afternoon sunset on a lake in New Hampshire that’s not even sad. Which is rare for me since I find sunsets heart-wrenchingly empty most days.

Hand Me Downs – Mac Miller 

Get away to a place where the lakes such a great view Leave the bank, couple hunnid thou' I made it, but I hate once I build it I break it down Might just break me down   And all I ever needed was somebody with some reason who can keep me sane Ever since I can remember I've been keeping it together but I'm feeling strange

As long as I could remember, this is what I wanted. Yet in recent months, I’ve felt so confused about what I want. I’ve been feeling strange, and things don’t seem right, with no proper conclusion:   

Get away when it ain't really safe and it don't seem right But what's new? You get used to the bullshit, the screws they go missing It's likely they might be but...

I almost wish that there was something I distinctly missed, since that would at least show that I cared about something. But to be fair, wanting the wrong things have led me down many wrong turns in the past, so maybe this blank slate is not so bad. I’m so very unsure of what I want, but I suppose I just need to keep it up and act like I do* want something. That’s been the conclusion for this past year. It’s sometimes nice and fine, sometimes so difficult, and I’m in the latter end of the spectrum now, but perhaps it’ll click eventually. In the meantime, the detached voice of Giveon soothes me that I’m not only lost soul goin back and forth on the lost young adult pendulum:  

Like I Want You – Giveon  

I guess I'll just pretend until it all makes sense   Like I want you You, ooh, ooh Even if it's true, ooh (Even if it's true)

Early-ish July 2020  

[marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer]

MTVS Epic Rewatch #178

VM 3x11 Poughkeepsie, Tramps and Thieves

Stray thoughts

1) Okay, all the cuteness and fluff in this opening scene should’ve been a warning sign that this episode wasn’t going to end on a happy note for LoVe, right? I mean, tell me this doesn’t read as a piece of fanfic.

VERONICA: Are you gonna eat that? LOGAN: This? VERONICA: Yeah, that fry in particular. LOGAN: That was the plan. VERONICA: I'm just saying, if you weren't, or if you were just gonna consume it out of obligation or to meet someone else's expectations, I know someone who might be willing to take it off your hands. VERONICA: Maybe add a little ketchup, make it worth a girl's while.

VERONICA: You're welcome.

Of course, I’ve embraced the notion that Rob Thomas is actually writing LoVe fanfiction a long time ago.

2) Ugh, Weevil’s so sad about the Dean’s death. Of course, he is! How many people have actually given a rat’s ass about Weevil? Not that many, and the Dean was one of them.

3) So, Lamb is more of an idiot than I thought. I mean, this is how responds to Keith’s burn…

He doesn’t understand his own sarcastic comment is actually a self-burn? Like, you can actually read his lips (“Oh, fuck”) when he realizes what he just said?

4) “ You're just like the rest of them, aren't you? You just want to use me for my skills and pay me for my time and effort.”

5)

MAX: If you don't find her, I'm taking a bath with my blow-dryer.

6) This is one of Veronica’s traits that always rubs me the wrong way, probably because people mocking others’ interests is a personal pet peeve of mine…

MAX: It was Comic-Con. VERONICA: You didn't get all sweaty in your Wookiee suit, did you? MAX: Yuk it up. You know, it's not all Trekkies and Star Wars nerds. I was there because Dave Gibbons has a new graphic novel that he scripted as well as drew. VERONICA: [sarcastically] Sounds cooler now. 

Get off your high horse, Veronica. There’s nothing uncool about liking stuff. That mentality sucks.

What’s worse, she’s clearly a closet nerd, since she can both deliver and understand geeky references.

7) Now, this is the Veronica I love...

MAX: Have a seat.

VERONICA: No, thanks. It's easier to be nosy if I can mill about.

 8) And I love this little Easter egg...

VERONICA: You know Mac and Parker? This is their room.

MAX: Who?

VERONICA: Uh, this photo.

MAX: No, that's from the around-the-world party. That's my roommate, Brian, and my friend, Fred. I think that room was supposed to be Canada, but it was kind of lame.

9) This is gross on so many levels…

VERONICA: The glass-is-half-full version: Chelsea's not getting married. Max is overjoyed. MAX: Are you serious? VERONICA: Yeah. The half-empty version is...she's a hooker. VERONICA: Brian and Fred, as demented as this sounds, thought you'd have more confidence with girls if you...lost your virginity.

10) And this is something the show did a lot during this season, and I honestly appreciate it:

MAX: Can you still find her?

VERONICA: Um...yes. But she'll still be a prostitute.

MAX: I'm not stupid, Veronica. Okay, we had something. I know it. There's some things you can't fake.

VERONICA: There are some things women are universally known for faking, and this girl is a professional.

MAX: When I dropped her off at the airport, she had tears in her eyes.

VERONICA: Are you sure she wasn't thinking of the cab fare back?

See, Veronica’s fieldwork in the world of P.I. has given her hands-on experience on how seedy and corrupted everyone is. Expecting the worse and jumping to conclusions has become second nature to her. She can’t help it. It doesn’t help that more often than not, her instincts are right. But on occasion, people surprise her and prove her wrong. This will be one of those cases, at least in the sense that Wendy really had feelings for Max. And every time Veronica is proven wrong in her preconceptions, it feels so refreshing because Veronica is judgmental and jaded to a fault. And like Logan told her a few episodes ago, she’s not always right. She still believes she is, though.

It still kind of feels this pattern of Veronica having preconceptions and then being proven wrong was building up to something bigger, you know? Veronica had become more prejudiced and prone to snap judgments at the same time she became more reckless and cocky with her detective work. As the season progresses, her sense of infallibility and almightiness gets stronger. But she is never forced to face the music. I think it would’ve been a great arc if she was.

11) See point 6) above.

VERONICA: That explains why Chelsea was into comic books. Chelsea's a dude.

12) 

13)

KEITH: Will you be home for dinner?

VERONICA: No, I'm meeting two hookers over at Logan's later.

KEITH: On a school night?

VERONICA: Off-peak hours. Save a few bucks.

KEITH: You're not really.

VERONICA: Fiona and Lizette. They're just a couple of gals putting themselves through college. Man, quit bringing me down with your bourgeois hang-ups.

14) This conversation pretty much sums up Logan’s and Veronica’s issues and insecurities as well as their relationship’s shortcomings in this season.

VERONICA: So, have you...ever been with one? LOGAN: An escort? VERONICA: Yeah. LOGAN: Do we really want to go there? VERONICA: I guess we don't have to now. LOGAN: Come on, that wasn't me answering the question. VERONICA: It kinda was. LOGAN: No, it wasn't. That was me knowing there's a land mine and trying to figure out where to put my foot. VERONICA: Well, I guess you picked your spot. Look, why not dispel any romantic notions? If we see each other, warts and all, and still like each other, that's a real connection. LOGAN: Well, maybe I enjoy my romantic notions. Maybe I don't care to see any warts, you know, yours or mine. Now you see, you're smiling, all right, so I think it's all fun and safe, but it's a slippery slope from "Have you ever been" to "How many" and "How often." VERONICA: So you've been with multiple hookers on several occasions. LOGAN: I'm not having this conversation with you.

On the one hand, Veronica claims she wants to know about Logan’s sexual exploits so that they can disregard any “romantic notions” they might have about each other and love each other as they truly are. On paper, that seems like a solid statement. And I’d buy it if she wasn’t prying on Logan’s sexual exploits, to begin with. Veronica has always been terrified of Logan cheating on her, with has more to do with her own insecurities than him giving her actual reasons to suspect him. Other than the one time he “cheated” on Lilly with Yolanda (and I think it’s fair to quote Ross Geller’s “we were on a break” defense,) Logan’s always been faithful. Yes, he does sleep around when he’s single, but when he’s in a relationship with someone he loves? I think Logan would cut his own dick before cheating. Veronica knows this. She’s had first-hand experience on how loyal and faithful Logan can be. And she had a first-row seat to Logan and Lilly’s relationship – he was the cheatee, not the cheater. So the fact that she wants to dig in Logan’s previous sexual relationships has to do with her own insecurities as regards how she won’t measure up to Logan’s former sexual partners. She probably feels inexperienced and inadequate. She might even think he could get bored of having sex with her (I know, she’s delusional! Logan could never get tired of her! NEVER!) And so she’s been restlessly waiting for the other shoe to drop and for Logan to cheat on her pretty much since they started dating.

On the other hand, there’s Logan claim that he’d rather avoid this conversation because it is quite literally a landmine. He’s honest, of course. And right. Nothing he could ever say would satisfy Veronica. And that’s the problem. That’s his own insecurity when it comes to her. But the difference is, his insecurities are well-founded. We already got a glimpse of this when the whole Mercer-and-the-hotel-on-fire thing came up. What frightens Logan more than anything is that he believes he will never be good enough for Veronica. And Veronica, more often than not, makes him feel wanting. So, you see, fessing up about his sleazy past won’t exactly paint him in a boyfriend-material light. Logan’s smarter than that. Moreover, he knows he’ll probably feed Veronica’s mistrust because for some reason she has this internalized misconception that if you are a sexual being, then you’re prone to cheating.

15) 

VERONICA: Sorry, Lizette. Looks like we're gonna have to reschedule. Pay the girl, Max.

LOGAN: If we're paying her anyway...

VERONICA: Honey?

16) Look at this goofus face when the two lovers are finally reunited! You truly believe this guy could cheat?

17) Ugh, and then…

To Logan’s credit, he didn’t even bat an eye when she showed up. But then…

VERONICA: No, Madison is pretty much the physical embodiment of all things I loathe. If Dick starts dating her again, you're gonna need to get a different roommate.

He can’t look her in the eye because he knows, he knows what her reaction is going to be once she finds out he slept with Madison (even if they weren’t together when he did…)

18) I fucking love this moment…

The way Keith just looks at her like actually taking note of her advice? It kills me.

19) Favorite!

20) 

WENDY: Oh, my God. Thank you. That's the thing about being a working girl. Easy to break into, not so easy to get out of. It's not like I'm one of the big earners, but I have this client, a judge. VERONICA: Ooh, a judge? Which one? WENDY: Cramer. VERONICA: No freaking way! My dad busted him for taking bribes, and the old bastard still got re-elected. WENDY: He is the kinkiest out of all my clients. No sex, he just likes to sneak me into his office at the courthouse. All he wants to do is have tickle fights and walk around in my shoes.

And while Veronica is delighted with this piece of information, Max is…

…the opposite of delighted?

21) “For what little it's worth, I was totally wrong. You and Wendy do have something. You two are great together, and I'm sorry. And this just plain sucks.” You see? How nice is it to hear Veronica admitting she wasn’t right?

But, of course, literally one minute later…

VERONICA: It's purple makeup. The bruise was a fake. You've been had. They duped you. Nicki didn't get worked over by her pimp. She and Wendy just conned you out of a grand. MAX: That's crazy. VERONICA: Crazy? She screws people for money, Max. That's what she does. VERONICA: I'm sorry. That wasn't- MAX: No, I'm an idiot. VERONICA: You're not. From where I stand, Wendy's the idiot. And now we must crush her.

No evidence other than the stained cloth and yet she thinks she’s figured it all out. And she’s ready for payback. Ugh, I wish they would’ve gone somewhere with this pattern of behavior!

22) You see what I mean?!

LOGAN: This is a bad idea.

VERONICA: It's blackmail. It's the go-to idea. In case of emergency, break glass or blackmail.

LOGAN: Uh, excuse me if I can't get jazzed about my girlfriend extorting a judge.

VERONICA: Look, I'm not doing a back handspring about it either, but I'm getting Max his thousand dollars back, and I'm taking away Wendy's best client. It works on so many levels.

MAX: You don't have to do this.

Like, even Max tells her she doesn’t have to do this. And she ploughes ahead

23) And, let’s be honest, she gets off on it…

VERONICA: I can't believe I had to blackmail a judge just to get some alone time with you.

24)

VERONICA: But seriously, folks... have you? LOGAN: What? Ever been with a hooker? Why does it matter? VERONICA: I just want to know. I assume the answer is yes. Look at it as an opportunity for me to show you how cool I can be. "Hooker? Who cares?" LOGAN: Well, here's your chance to be cool. Stop asking. VERONICA: I just want to get to a place with you where we can be really... intimate. LOGAN: That's what the female praying mantis says before she bites the male's head off. VERONICA: I'm just saying, buried secrets tend to surface when I'm around. LOGAN: Maybe that's because of all the digging, huh? VERONICA: I'm giving you the chance right now to come clean. You tell all. I tell all. Go from there. LOGAN: Hm, fine. Ask away. Ask anything you want. VERONICA: Have you ever been with a hooker? LOGAN: No.

She’s giving him a chance to “come clean” as if he’s committed some sort of crime. And she can’t help her smile when he confesses he’s never been with a prostitute.

25) So was he talking about the beach girl or Madison? Or, possibly, both. 

VERONICA: Were you with anyone while we were broken up? LOGAN: Landmine. I fooled around with this horrible girl who meant less than nothing to me, and I couldn't regret it more. Thinking of it makes me ill. So, there. Presto. Intimacy. Still love me? VERONICA: Yes.

26) You see Veronica? You’re not invincible…

27) 

VERONICA: You just handed over a hundred hundred dollar bills.

MAX: Yeah, I was there.

VERONICA: And what guarantee do you have that-

28) To be honest, I love how Weevil treats Wendy in this scene. Like, no judgment at all! He’s just happy to see someone he knows and wants to say hello! You’re cool beans, Weevs.

WEEVIL: Hey, I-I know you.

VERONICA: Weevil, this is Wendy.

WEEVIL: Fiona, right?

WEEVIL: You used to dance at the Electric Lady. My buddy was a bouncer up there.

WENDY: You must be thinking of someone else.

WEEVIL: No, I don't think so. You have a tattoo, red dragon, left cheek. Am I right?

29) Okay, so that lasted as long as a un pedo en una canasta. (sorry, I like this idiomatic expression in Spanish and I’m not even trying to translate it.)

MAX: "The-the day we met was one of the best days of my life. I-I fell for you that day, but you didn't know what I was then, and now you do and it shows in the way you look at me. It shows in the way you touch me but I'll never regret it. You made me realise what I was missing. Love, Wendy."

30) UGH UGH UGH…

MADISON: Oh, Logan and I hooked up in Aspen over the holidays. I guess you two were split, huh? I was in town and thought he might have some free time, but, oh, well. Oh, and, as a friend, he's not so big on the one-piece numbers.