#i have a detailed answer queued up somewhere

[deerspherestudios]

What rating will Mushroom Oasis be? I didn't see it anywhere, but I might just be blind, lol.

PG-13! Just creepy spooks and Mychael being Mychael. Nothing explicit or NSFW planned!

[fluentmoviequoter]

Constant Faith

Requested Here

Part 2: Constant Faith and the Life it Brings >

Pairing: Tim Bradford x worship pastor!reader

Summary: When your church is robbed during worship practice, you try to remember as many details as you can to tell the police. Tim is the responding officer, and despite his worry about you, he's impressed by what you remember.

Warnings: robbery, the robbers point guns at r, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Everyone has constants in their life and unshakeable faith in something to get them through hard days. No matter what that faith may be in, is an irrefutable fact that people put their faith in at least one thing, perhaps even themselves, and rely on it when times get tough. For you, your faith and your constants align. Today, your constants include Tim Bradford and worship practice.

Being a worship pastor at your home church is one of the best parts of your life, and the time you spend at church is just as special and important to you as time spent at home. As you drive to practice, you realize that it has been less than twenty-four hours since you were last at church and chuckle to yourself. Your faith makes you active in church, and you doubt that you’ll ever get tired of being there: your home away from home.

Meanwhile, Tim is out on a call and trying not to think about you. He tends to get distracted by you, and when he sees the time, he knows that you’ll be at church. Safe. Knowing you, your routine, and where you are brings Tim comfort. He trusts you, though, it’s the rest of Los Angeles he has a problem with. Tim also knows better than to think about you too much at work because you make him happy, and the officers around him may get suspicious.

“Hi,” you greet happily as you enter the sanctuary.

The rest of the worship team matches your excited attitude from the stage. Your team is amazing, and you look forward to the time spent with them each week. After you catch up with them quickly, you direct them to take their places with microphones and instruments before queuing the song list for Sunday service.

“I have a question,” your newest, and youngest, member says shyly.

“Of course,” you reply with a smile.

“Could I maybe try harmonizing on the second song? I’ve been practicing, but I don’t know if I can do it with those notes yet,” she explains.

“Please do! We’ll run through it again after, too, if you want.”

She nods, and you signal to Jerry, the audio tech, to start the countdown to the first song. You’ll have one when you enter on Sunday, so you like to utilize it during practice, too. The music begins filling the room, and you lose yourself in the lyrics of the first song.

A door slams somewhere outside the sanctuary, and you raise your hand to end the song. The sudden quiet lets you hear footsteps moving quickly through the foyer area.

“Who is that?” the bass player asks.

Before you can answer, the door at the back of the sanctuary opens and two men wearing masks enter.

“Put your hands up!” one of them demands.

You’re prepared to argue with him, but when he raises a gun, you decide to comply. The friends around you step back and raise their hands as requested. When he gestures for them to move to the back of the stage and sit, they do so without hesitation. As they drop their heads toward the stage, you hear a small voice somewhere within you. It demands that you pay attention and remember everything you can about this moment. You sit as well but keep your eyes up and watch the men walk toward each other and begin whispering.

“… safe somewhere, John!” one of them says.

Clutching your hands together, you say a silent prayer that these men don’t hurt anyone. Your prayer focuses on your continued safety, and that of everyone else in the building, before you ask for justice. These men have clearly done this before, and you’re confident that there are other people, maybe even other church congregations, who have been robbed before. Throughout your prayer, you keep your eyes open and on any defining markers you can find.

“Where’s the safe?” one of the men – John – yells.

He swings the gun toward you, and one of your worship team members answers, “In the treasurer’s office! It’s just around the corner.”

One of the men nods before leaving the sanctuary. You’re left to sit with the other gunmen, and you take the hand of the woman beside you in an attempt to soothe her. Everyone else seems to be panicking, and you say another prayer for them.

Minutes that feel like eternities pass before the man returns and gestures for his fellow thief. They walk out backward to keep anyone from following them, but the moment the door closes, you pull your phone from your pocket and call 911.

“Officers are already en route. We were alerted of the crime in progress,” the dispatcher says before asking you several questions.

After explaining what you can, you end the call, stand, and walk toward the door.

“Don’t go out, they could still be here!” someone implores quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere, just checking on Jerry,” you answer.

Jerry, the audio tech, is in the small booth at the back of the sanctuary. He’s no longer in his seat, and you open the door slowly.

“Oh, it’s you,” he sighs from his spot on the floor. “I called the police. Is everyone else okay?”

“We’re fine, Jerry. Thanks for being so proactive,” you reply.

“I should- should have done more.”

“Your safety is more important. Everything’s fine, so don’t worry about it, alright?”

“LAPD! We’re coming in,” an officer yells outside.

You push the sanctuary door open and wave to the responding officers. You’re surprised to see Tim, but your falling adrenaline keeps you from showing it. He’s with Celina for some reason; you’re not curious enough to ask why yet.

“The robbers are gone. There were only a few of us here for worship practice and we’re still in here,” you explain.

“Any idea what they took?” Celina asks as she moves past you through the doorway.

“Go check on the other witnesses,” Tim interjects.

After she turns around, Tim lays his hand against your side and asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod quickly. “I think so. Just shaken up, I guess.”

“There’s no shame in that. I am too. I heard the call over the radio and couldn’t get here fast enough.”

“How’d you know I was here?”

“You’re always here,” Tim teases.

“I, uh, I heard one of their names and I got a pretty good idea of what they look like – build, I mean; they were wearing masks.”

Tim shakes his head as three more officers enter the building. He tells you to join your worship team and he’ll find you again when he can. After you give a detailed statement and describe both men to a sketch artist, you sit heavily against one of the pews.

“You got a name and a nearly perfect physical description,” Tim says as he lowers to sit beside you. “Most cops can’t even do that.”

“Guess I had a lot of reason to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “I wasn’t scared, I knew that I had no reason to be, but I also knew you would need to know as much about them as I could tell. Not you, but the police.”

“Sergeant Bradford?” Celina asks as she approaches. “Officer Chen is looking for you.”

“Tim!” Lucy says as she rushes to join Celina. “I heard you attach yourself to this call; what was the urgency?”

“Crimes against churches usually go to Metro,” Tim answers.

Lucy’s eyes drift to you, sitting comfortably beside Tim. “Just that?” she asks knowingly.

“Robbery and CSU have work to do,” Tim deflects as he stands. “So, mind your own business and get out of the way.”

“Tim,” you chide quietly.

“What?” he asks.

Lucy grabs Celina’s arm and leads her outside. “You’re telling me everything I missed,” she whispers.

“Your former rookie just abducted your new rookie,” you point out.

“She’s not my new rookie. Just doing a favor for Wade; Celina’s dealing with a lot of stress, so I’m trying to get her back where she needs to be.”

You smile and Tim takes your hand. Your faith allowed you to be aware and alert, and Tim is obviously impressed by the details you remember.

“Let me drive you home,” he offers.

The rest of the worship team is ready to leave, and you wave as they move toward the door.

“Same time tomorrow in my garage?” your bass player asks.

“Sounds great,” you reply. “See you then. And call if any of you need anything.”

“Hey,” Tim says, nudging you. “I promise that we’ll catch the men who did this and make sure the money is returned.”

“I know. And, yes, please, to the ride home. Only if you give me a hug.”

“You’re getting more than one.”

[electricbluebutterflies]

Jess/Leto + Being woken up in the middle of the night when they kick you

Early-era, PG-ish, VERY late  queued crosspost // also on ao3

She wakes up to sudden pain in her leg, and it is all she can do to prevent her reflexes from doing something that could make the situation much worse.

Jessica does not know how to share space with another person. Jessica does not know how to exist within most of the current boundaries and expectations of her life, but that has been the most recurrent issue lately, not the broad strokes of her apparently hostile personality but the fact that she was never taught how to be a normal woman. On the good days, she manages something close to a smile and reminds her partner that she isn’t. Other times…

She centers herself as quickly as she can. It is the deep quiet of night. Her lover does occasionally move in sleep, when the dreams are vivid, and-

This is her fault. It is always her fault, even if no one else thinks so.

The bruise her long skirts will easily hide is less worrying than her partner’s erratic breathing patterns. She can feel the energy as she moves her body around him – they have done this before, enough that she has something of a ritual for it, and her cold fingertips on either side of his collarbone are safe enough. The vivid dreams that are not quite nightmares occur just often enough that she is not worried for her own safety, even as her instincts tell her otherwise, and-

It is still a comfort as her partner’s eyes open, as even in the darkness he processes the presence of her and a hand reaches up to cover one of hers.

“That bad?” he murmurs, like he’s unsure if it needs to be the starting point of an apology.

“You kicked me,” she replies. There is no need for formalities or politeness in the dark, she is learning, not in this space and not with this man. “You don’t usually do that. I’ll be fine, but… I worry.”

“Anything else…”

This is what she owes for the warmth she is offered, she thinks sometimes, her perceptions the small price she pays for comfort. How small an exchange that really is, not what she ever expected, not-

“No. Not bad.”

Her partner’s free hand slips around her waist to bring her close, and she is still confused by these little actions but she will not be difficult right now, she will not-

“You’d say, if it was?”

She can’t answer right away. She should say yes, she knows, but at the same time she should be more cooperative than she has been lately and-

The only certainty she has is the total lack of it, all of her intentions made meaningless as creeping vines of actual emotion climb her fragile heart. What she objectively should do, conscious as she is of that constant list, is starting to mean less and less. What she wants…

“If you hurt me, yes. It doesn’t matter otherwise.”

A true answer, but not the one her partner seems to want. She is thankful for the lack of light sparing her the details of the look she knows he’s giving her right now, the combination of emotions that express themselves as what-did-I-ever-do-to-deserve-you, half adoration and half reluctant martyrdom. Only ever when they’re alone, she reminds herself; in public there is nothing but respect and protection, and even now she knows she is safe, even now she is-

How carefully they avoid their growing emotional entanglement, and how little that avoidance means sometimes.

“You don’t have to put up with-“

“I don’t know what’s even normal,” she murmurs, allowing everything, allowing her body to rest halfway on top of his because she can only do so much at any moment and she is learning she likes touch when she’s feeling too many things. “I don’t know what…”

He makes a noise that is almost a laugh, and the hand on her back starts tracing patterns. “You admitting you don’t know something is…”

“Unusual,” she says before this can go somewhere she doesn’t want. “You might’ve broken me.”

“Did I do anything…”

He’s always asking that, and she often wonders what must have happened long before her to make him like this, so critical of his actions around her. Not cautious, not as much as two years ago, but this inexplicable fear that every little slight might wound her even though she’s given no intentional sign she is fragile and-

“Don’t,” she breathes, and she will blame her avoidance on how tired she is, how tired they both are, not-

“I want to do right by you,” and he’s said that so many times and it still always makes her cold even though it is perfectly clear how much he means it, and-

“What if that’s the problem?”

“What do you-“

“You’re too kind. I’d always expected… respectful distance would be ideal.”

“Is that what you want?”

What she wants, Jessica thinks right now, is for this not to turn into a fight. But that would take miracles she hasn’t earned, a denial of all that she has been, and-

“I don’t know that either.”

The embrace loosens, bodies move, and at least one of them knows how and when to deescalate.

“This doesn’t have to be anything more or less than we make it,” he murmurs, still reaching for her hand. He’d said that the day they met, the first time they were alone and before he even touched her, and two years later it is still the only thing that feels real about any of this and-

“I know. I’m just not sure…”

She is still here, she reminds herself. She is still here, and it will take time she hopes she is given to fully find her way, and even now this is so much more than her own fleeting dreams, and-

“I don’t need answers. Not before you’re ready.”

Someday, someday she will figure out what she’s missing. For now she is too tired for those thoughts, for anything at all.

“And if I never am?”

“We’ll deal with that when we have to.”

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Regarding the Sinclairs [3] PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: You had always assumed the stories of time travel in your family were just that. Stories. At worst, maybe an inside joke. However, your world starts to shift when your grandfather leaves his home to you in his will. The old Sinclair house, one that has been passed down for generations. Taking up the task of moving into and upgrading the home, a man dressed like he just stepped out of a western arrives, unconscious, on your porch with a letter in his hand. WARNINGS: None for this chapter. NOTE: I apologize for the wait! I’m posting this chapter and the most recent is queued to post later this week.

Arthur was withdrawn the next afternoon–which you figured you should have expected.

You could only imagine the confusion he was experiencing, as much as you tried to explain what you could to him when you found him playing with the main hall’s light switch when you came back downstairs. You weren’t much of a historian, not from the period he was from anyway. Though, you could make an educated guess that he had no idea how most modern technologies worked.

Considering you not exactly knowing the details of how they worked either, it made you realize just how common a lot of them were. There was also the issue of trying to explain things in a way that didn’t belittle his intelligence or talk to him like a kid. Still, explaining things like how you didn’t have an outhouse and how the toilet works, along with the sink and shower, was just odd. Still, Arthur was a little more curious than you had expected, and a fast learner.

Still, it was a bit of a process. You wondered if you could get culture shock from a country you never left, but traveling this far ahead in time probably left him with the same experience.

So, his growing quietness in the evening made sense. You were trying to make something you both could eat from what little food you moved in with. Toast and eggs, which wasn’t amazing but it was something at least. Though, Arthur’s voice from behind you pulled you from your thoughts.

“I’m dead, ain’t I?”

You cast him a glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze for a few moments before you returned to making sure the eggs didn’t burn. The answer was a simple one: yes. Yet, you didn’t want to say it too bluntly. Arthur seemed pretty collected so far, but there was only so much a person could take. You probably would have been freaking out if you were in his situation.

Still, you let out a sigh as you reached out to burn off the burner.

“Well, you have a grave,” you replied, “It’s actually part of a larger historical site, but…well, it’s just a headache waiting to happen trying to figure out if there’s a body under there if you’re sitting here.”

“I ain’t gonna pretend to make sense of that,” he muttered, “...So, you seen it?”

“When I was thirteen,” you replied as you pulled some plates from the cupboard, “I had a history teacher take us there as part of our schooling.”

“What kinda school takes kids to see a grave?”

“The gang you ran with is actually pretty well known among old west scholars,” you said around a small chuckle, “Some of them, at least. Your journal is actually a commonly cited source. I guess my teacher figured it would be worthwhile to see.”

He didn’t reply to that as you put the food onto two plates and brought them to the table. You couldn’t read Arthur’s expression much as you passed him a plate, not too sure what he made of all of that. It was a lot of information to process–if you were still trying to wrap your head around him being here, you had no doubt it was ten times worse for him.

“I’m actually pretty sure there are some of Jack Marston’s books here somewhere, if you want to read those,” you continued as you sat down.

“Little Jack?”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” you replied with a soft nod, “He wrote about the final years of his dad’s life. Outside of your journal, I’ve seen those books mentioned a lot too.”

Arthur fell silent at that, too. You could see an almost far-off look in his eyes, a stab of sympathy hitting your gut. You reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, his gaze turning to meet yours.

“Eat. You’ve taken in a lot of information today, you don’t need to sort through all of that right now.”

You really didn’t know how to handle Arthur in this situation–especially with the fact that you were still trying to come to terms with it yourself. Still, he seemed to take your suggestion as he started to pick at what was on his plate. As mentioned, the meal wasn’t much at the moment but you were a little hungrier than you thought you were.

“You think it’d be wise to go see it?” Arthur asked after a moment, the question taking you a little off guard.

You stared at him for a moment before you turned it over in your head. There was the fact that if Arthur’s actual body was still buried under that grave and he was currently sitting in your kitchen, you didn’t know if that would change anything about that site. Yet, outside of him appearing here, nothing really did change. It was a little too mind-boggling to sort through. However, there was also the mental toll. You didn’t know how you would feel upon seeing your own grave, but…

“You want to see it?”

Arthur let your question sit for a few moments, seeming to debate that within himself. “Guess…well, might help me see the full picture here.”

“I’ll be willing to take a day or two drive up there with you, but only if you’re certain. I can’t make any promises on what will happen.”

“Thought you had the answers to everythin’,” he muttered sarcastically as you let out a huff in return.

“Well, I don’t. I really don’t.”

“I guess I do want to see it,” Arthur continued around a sigh, “I never really…got to see how things played out.”

“I can’t imagine seeing my own grave. I figured it might be the same feeling for you, but if you think it’ll be worthwhile, I’ll take you up to the site.”

You still weren’t sure what your role was in all of this. Francis had written that he saw a ‘favorable outcome’ with Arthur in your care, but you didn’t know if it was someone who got him on his feet and he took off eventually to do his own thing or if this was supposed to be some long-term situation. Still, you didn’t want to hinder the process unless you felt it was absolutely warranted.

“Just…give me a couple days,” you continued, picking up your now empty plate, “I’m still trying to adjust to all of this too.”

                                                             ***

Honestly, you had completely forgotten your parents were coming up to see you.

Between helping Arthur adjust to the time period, you keeping an eye on when your online courses were supposed to start, and planning this little road trip, the stress in you wasn’t hard to miss. For the most part, nothing really needed to be done urgently. Your mother had texted that she was bringing you some extra food along with some money to help you out. Yet, you still hadn’t told them about Arthur.

You honestly had no idea how to even start the conversation. ‘Hey, you remember my great, great, great uncle Francis? Yeah, he dropped Arthur Morgan on my doorstep. I’ve been trying to help him settle into the modern world, it’s a big change from the late nineteenth century.’  

It wasn’t a conversation you were going to have. Not yet, anyway.

“You were an outlaw, right? You any good at coming up with aliases?”

Arthur glanced at you over his shoulder as you quickly walked down the stairs onto the main floor, furrowing his eyebrows somewhat.

“I guess. Why? Your parents gonna turn me in?”

“No, but my dad’s interested in old west stuff. Your name might cause some recognition and I don’t know if we want to deal with that right now.”

“Dutch used to have a universal one that I used a couple times. Tacitus Kilgore.”

“I’ve seen that alias referred to when talking about Dutch, it might not be the best idea. You have any others? Plus, you will get looks with a name like that.”

“If ya care so damn much, guess there’s also Arthur Callahan.”

“It’s…still odd, but that works.”

“Why’re you so worked up?” Arthur asked, making you let out a soft huff.

“I don’t know, maybe because I have a long-dead outlaw in my living room who was part of a rather infamous gang. I’m just…a little stressed. The alias helps, I can deal with the rest.”

You didn’t mean to get snippy with him, but at the moment you could only feel a tight ball of stress sitting in your gut. Regardless, Arthur seemed to be cooperative for the most part as you continued to unpack–it would reduce your parent’s stay into just a visit, but with how things had played out recently you figured that was a good thing. For the most part, upstairs was pretty good to go. There was a spare bedroom that you figured you would give to Arthur the next day so he didn’t have to continue to sleep on the couch.

At least, that was the least you could do. You didn’t want to make the assumption that he’d be staying indefinitely, but with what you knew, you couldn’t find it in yourself to just send him off after a couple days.

It was around evening when the familiar car pulled up to the driveway, Arthur not exactly looking impressed with the added company, but you had caught his curiosity about the cars. Though he kept the questions to himself for now, it seemed. You had convinced him to change into a shirt and jeans, something he already had. You figured it looked ‘modern’ enough for the town that he wouldn’t raise any questions from your family.

Though, of course, the surprise upon your mother’s features when she saw him was expected.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had company so soon.”

“Nice to meet you, m’am,” Arthur greeted as your mother gave him a friendly smile and nod, though the question in her gaze when she looked at you was hard to miss.

“Yeah, this is Arthur. We’re doing a roommate sort of situation,” you explained, hoping the little story you made up would be enough, “I figure it’d help with some bills and he’s been a great help with unpacking.”

“Well, as long as that’s what you want…” your mother said under her breath as you took some bags of food from her, casting a glance at Arthur and your father over your shoulder.

“It’s fine,” you replied.

It wasn’t like you had much choice in the matter, anyway. You still weren’t sure if you should be angry at Francis or impressed he had managed to do all of this with no indication that he was. Still, you tried not to show too much stress in your actions as you helped your mother put some of the food away.

Still, your father, ever the host, had roped Arthur into helping him set up that fire pit in the backyard he had always talked about. You caught Arthur’s gaze with an apologetic smile before returning to your task.

As much as the situation seemed to be settling, you couldn’t help but feel you had a couple long days ahead of you.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Update - Harry Styles

i’ve been deep inmy harry feels and this thought just wouldn’t leave me alone so i had to write it. im thinking about starting a taglist for harry, i think i’ll write more about him in the future. let me know if you’d be interested in the taglist!

word count: ~5.9k

masterlist

Sequel: The best present

Harry is not that into YouTube videos, has never really been, which is kind of ironic seeing the number of videos on the internet that is about him. The man himself who makes everyone talk online feels weird seeing someone talking on his screen, looking into his soul as if they were right there with him. But today he felt the sudden urge to be like his peers and get lost in random rambling videos from strangers, who felt the need to put themselves out there.

He has made a mean cup of tea for himself, made himself comfortable on his couch with his laptop balancing on his thighs and now is opening up his browser to unwind in an unusual way. As YouTube opens in front of his tired eyes, he stops when he tries to type in the keywords he is searching for. What is he looking for really? He thinks to himself trying to remember what he heard from his friends when they talked about funny or interesting videos. One thing is for sure, he is trying to avoid watching videos of himself in any content. He has had enough of him for the day, it’s time to focus on someone else, even if he doesn’t know the person.

He scrolls through several pages of many different keywords until he settles for a video where a girl talks about how her latest moving day went. Starting off Harry feels weird listening to her talk about such personal things as where her bed went in her room, how she packed all her stuff to fit them in the boxes, but soon enough this feeling settles and he starts to realize it’s kind of relaxing.

It doesn’t take too long for him to fall down a rabbit hole and by the time his tea empties out from his cup he is intensely watching a guy rant about his boss at Subway while doing a mukbang. The latter is a new discovery for Harry, he has never heard of it before, but he can see why some people find it satisfying.

The video ends, Harry checks the time and sees that it’s already after midnight and he hasn’t even realized how fast time flew by.

“Alright, just one more,” he mumbles to himself scrolling down the column of the recommended videos until his eyes stop at one particular upload at the very bottom.

July update for my Sammy, ready the title and an eye-catchingly beautiful girl is smiling from the thumbnail. He finds her breathtaking, the lack of makeup, the worn out hoodie she is wearing and the many various plants in the background makes it appear she is sitting in the middle of the forest.

Harry finds himself clicking on the video before he could even decide consciously to watch it. The screen loads and the girl appears in front of him, this time in a much larger size.

“Hi Sammy, welcome back to our channel,” she starts with an angelic little laugh as she pulls her shoulders up to her ears as if the camera is making her shy. She has no reason to be shy, Harry thinks to himself. His second thought is about Sammy, he is one lucky guy to know this angel and have her think about him. “It’s Y/N here, your one and only sister,” she adds.

Sister. The word brings Harry relief and he is surprised to feel this way, but he has no time to think anything of it because she starts talking again.

“Here is my July update, I’m sorry I’m a little late, but we got back from Oregon yesterday. Aunt Ella is sending you kisses and hugs, she missed you at the barbeque, or maybe it was just your helping hand at the grill,” she chuckles to herself, probably recalling the memory.

Harry has no idea who Aunt Ella is or where she lives in Oregon, but the way she talks about it makes him feel like he is part of the family a little.

Y/N carries on and starts talking about everything that has happened in July. Painting the shed at her parents’ home, buying a new armchair, one her cat absolutely adores and refuses to sleep anywhere else now, she went to the hairdresser to get a trim, but not too much. She tells about her plans for August, how she is thinking about going to the farmers’ market more often, and she has been playing with the idea of adopting another cat.

“I think Henry has been feeling a little lonely lately. He could use a buddy,” she tells the camera, her eyes moving to the side from where a weak but moody meow can be heard as an answer. “Yeah, I think he agrees,” she chuckles and Harry finds himself smiling at the screen.

At the end of the video she asks a few questions from Sammy, how he has been doing, if his wrist feels any better, even asks about a friend called Matthew. Harry wonders if she has ever gotten the answers to her questions and where Sammy saw this video. What is he doing that made her want to do an update on YouTube?

When the video ends Harry clicks on her profile faster than he would willingly admit to anyone and it’s like he opened the gate to paradise. Tens and maybe hundreds of videos are queuing on her page, monthly updates, birthday wishes, short story times about family gatherings, news and happenings in her life.

Harry gets lost in her tales. He watches video after video, noticing the smallest details about her, almost mentally taking notes about her updates, finding anything and everything she talks about so interesting as if he knew those people and places she mentions. He comes to realization that Sammy is her older brother who is serving somewhere in the military. Y/N is making the videos to update him about her life even if she knows most of them doesn’t get to him until weeks later, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. He also learns that Sammy sends them back lengthy emails once a month and always ends them with a joke they made up with his mates at the army. Y/N loves them even when they're not even funny, she never fails to mention that she smiled reading them.

Hours pass by and the rising Sun peeks inside the window pulling Harry back to his own reality, shocked that he just spent the whole night watching her videos and didn’t even realize how deep he has gotten in her life. Lucky for him he has nothing planned until the afternoon, so shutting his laptop he sets it aside and heads straight to bed, but lying between his silky sheets he catches himself staring out the window, wondering what Y/N might be doing right now. From what he collected she lives somewhere in Spokane and has family in Seattle and Portland, which puts her quite a few time zones behind him. He finds the thought of them going to bed at the same time despite the distance a little funny. He lies in bed for quite some time before he finally drifts off to sleep with a particular girl on his mind, who doesn’t even know he is thinking about her.

 “Do you think you can fall for someone you have never met?”

Harry’s question catches Mitch a little off-guard, but he is kind of used to his random bits of thoughts. Pouring some sugar into his coffee he follows the wondering singer to a free table in the corner.

“Isn’t it what all your fans feel?” he answers with a question, earning a surprised look from Harry. He hasn’t thought about this side, now the situation is kind of ironic, he supposes.

“Y’re right,” he nods stirring his coffee around in the small cup.

“Want to let me in on your thoughts?”

Harry feels a little shy to admit how he has watched all of her videos in the past few days, 207 to be exact and now he feels an oddly deep connection to this girl he has never even seen outside of a screen. Last night he dug up her Instagam profile, and even though she is not posting as frequently as she does on her channel, it was a refreshing change to see her in different settings. Chilling at a lake, having drinks with her friends, playing with her parents’ puppy, it amazed him that she has a whole life outside that small portion she lets him see in her videos.

Hesitantly, but he tells his friend about his latest hobby, if it’s not too weird to call it that, while his friend patiently listens and nods along his words while sipping on his morning coffee.

“D’you think I’m crazy?” Harry sighs leaning back in his seat, looking at his friend and colleague for validation that he hasn’t lost his mind entirely.

“Definitely not,” he chuckles shaking his head. “It’s like falling for that girl in school you know so much about but never really met.”

“Only that I’m stalkin’ this poor girl.”

“This is not stalking. We both know it’s far from that.” Harry nods with slight relief that his situation doesn’t seem as bad as he has been feeling lately. “Have you gotten in touch with her?”

“And what am I supposed to do? Comment on her video that I think her cat’s a cutie and I watched all her videos in three days ‘cuz I think she’s beautiful and I find her voice soothing?”

Mitch lets out a soft chuckle at the oddly specific answer he just gave and finds it amusing how interested his friend has grown about someone in such a short time.

“Maybe phrase it a little different.”

“So you do think I should reach out?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Use your personal YouTube, leave her a nice comment. Maybe she’ll reply.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know, Harry,” he chuckles. “Just go with it and you’ll see. You are obviously interested in her, it’s better than just sit and watch her videos.”

Harry agrees. It wouldn’t hurt to try to reach out to her, possibly in a not too creepy way. Maybe just a sweet comment on one of her videos and if she replies… Well, he doesn’t know what comes after, but he’ll figure it out.

 Y/N updates regularly. Usually once a week and mostly it’s Sunday when a new video gets uploaded. This next Sunday Harry finds himself checking her page occasionally through the day to see if there’s a new update, but it seems like she is missing today. Right until he is driving home and gets a notification from the app.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video! It reads and Harry’s heart beats a tad bit faster. He thinks about pulling over to see it right away, but he tells himself that would be a bit too much, so he is forced to wait until he is in the comfort of his home.

Finally sitting on his couch he opens up his laptop and clicks on the video that has the title: September update.

Y/N sits in her usual spot, Henry in her arms as she is gently stroking his head with a warm smile on her face.

“Hi Sammy! Welcome back to our channel,” she greets him with her usual words and Harry loves how she calls the channel theirs. “This is my September update, even though not much has happened,” she breathes out, eyes wandering to the window besides her and Harry wonders what she sees from her window every day. Does she live in the city? Is it an apartment or a house with a backyard? Are there any trees or does her room have a terrible view, maybe just another house next to hers?

She starts her talk about the month, which she spent mostly with working, a little shopping and meeting her friends. She tells him about her planned trip to the local shelter to see possible new kittens to add to her household and Harry feels himself growing excited about it. He even thinks about what kind of cat he can see get along well with Henry even though he has never even met him.

“Anyway, mom and dad miss you, I miss you too. I loved your joke about ducks in your latest email,” she chuckles sweetly, bringing a smile to Harry’s face as well. “Mom is excited to see you at Christmas, our cousins will come to Portland as well. Maya can’t wait to play Jenga with you, she said she’s been practicing.”

The video soon ends as Y/N tells Sammy how much she loves him and eventually turns the camera off.

He straight away moves the cursor to the beginning of the video and as she starts talking again he scrolls down to the comment section that’s entirely empty. There are only two views on her video, usually a hundred is the max, but she doesn’t seem to care about the views, it’s more about the message.

He clicks to type a comment, but his hands stop above the keyboard as he tries to think of what to write. Mitch was right about taking a chance at reaching out, but what is he supposed to write exactly? Everything that comes to his mind sounds so creepy and scary, and he knows it’s weird that he formed such a deep connection to an unknown girl online. At last he starts typing.

“Hi Y/N! I’ve stumbled across your videos the other day. Love how you keep your brother updated, it’s such a nice gesture. I hope life treats you and Sammy well, you truly deserve it. Good luck with finding a buddy for Henry! Love, an admirer of yours, H.”

He reads it back several times, deleting then retyping it again until he decides to just go with it. A rush of adrenaline washes over his body when he sends the comment and it’s officially out there. Secretly he wishes she would reply right away, but moments pass by, then moments turn into minutes and nothing happens. His comment stands there alone and he has to realize that maybe she will never even reply or even see it.

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself as he shuts the laptop down and goes on to do his things, but he finds his thoughts wander over to her from time to time.

He has a busy day ahead of him the next day, quite a few meetings and a fitting. He checks back for a reply in the morning, but it slips his mind the moment he leaves from home and his phone rings right away. Throughout the day he basically barely has time to check his emails, his other notifications are just sitting patiently on the bar, waiting for him to acknowledge them. It’s way past five in the afternoon when he finally have some time for himself after his fitting. He is sitting in his car, people walk past him without even realizing who is sitting behind the tinted windows. Scrolling down he gets rid of everything that doesn’t seem urgent until his eyes stop at one particular notification.

“Y/N replied to your comment,” he reads it out loud, just to make it real, as if he is seeing it wrong and saying it with his own mouth brings it to life. He quickly taps on it and the familiar video opens up and while Y/N starts talking again the screen jumps down to the comments where, in fact, there is a reply from her.

“Dear H! Thank you for your heartfelt comment! I always forget it’s not just my family who sees these videos, but I’m happy you found them interesting enough to watch a few of them.”

“A few?” Harry huffs to himself feeling a little ridiculous he has watched all of them.

“I hope I didn’t bore you too much. Thank you for the well wishes for me, my brother and Henry too. He is sending his love to you. Y/N xx”

The comment was posted three hours ago. The thought that she has acknowledged his existence with not only reading but also replying to his comment brings him extreme joy. He reads her words over and over again, looking for any clue that would give away that she found his comment weird, but it seems like she was more surprised and happy that someone else saw her video besides her brother. Harry starts to type his reply without hesitation.

“Bore me? You saved me from watching another “what’s in my bag” video the other day. It was a pleasant change. I love your plants, by the way. Your room always gives off the most relaxed vibes. It reminded me I should have more of them in my home. H”

Harry smiles to himself posting his comment, the fear of appearing like a stalker long gone from him, the interaction is making his inside blossom from joy. For his biggest surprise a reply appears just a few minutes away and Harry reads Y/N’s new lines with deep hunger.

“Those videos suck the life out of me every time! I might be having a problem with buying too many plants, but I can’t help myself. They truly bring peace to me just by looking at them. I’m glad you are planning on buying some more, you won’t regret it!”

Harry is dying to reply, but he doesn’t want to look too eager and needy, so he opts for just liking her comment to let her know he read it and agrees. He locks his phone and puts it aside with the widest smile on his face as he starts his car and leaves his parking spot.

Two weeks pass by. In those two weeks Y/N uploads two more videos, one about her time with her grandparents, for a change it was filmed at their home and they even said hello in it. Harry feels wholesome seeing her with her granny and grandpa, it’s clear she cares a lot about them. The other video is just a short one where she has met some of Sammy’s old high school friends and she had a check in from them, sending a sweet message to him through the video. Harry doesn’t doubt how much these little things mean to Sammy, even if he doesn’t get to see them right away. Seeing Y/N alone boosts his mood every time she uploads a new video, he can only imagine how they make Sammy feel.

He leaves comments on her videos without a second thought and she replies to all of them, a lot of the time almost immediately. These are the highlights of his days without exception. Knowing that she has anything to do with him just fascinates him and he is starting to realize what his fans feel towards him on a different level. Whenever he sees the notification that she has replied to what he wrote or that she uploaded a new video he flies right to her page to check it, no matter what he is doing. Some of their comment threads turn out pretty lengthy, almost like a chat conversation and it has Harry wonder how they could maybe move it to somewhere else from the comment section.

He wants to ask for her number, but figures it wouldn’t be the best idea. Regardless of how much he enjoys their short little conversations, the situation is still weird and complicated and he doesn’t want to forget that.

But he is pleasantly surprised when she brings it up herself, to move the conversation to somewhere else.

“Would love to discuss that more with you. Up for exchanging IG names?” her question reads and he blinks a few before he fully comprehends that she wants to talk to him more in private. However there’s no way he can send her his real Instagram profile and making a fake one would be way too suspicious. Opening up the private messages he sends her a short, but informative message.

“I don’t use Instagram, but feel free to text me,” and then his phone number.

He sits at the dinner table anxiously, waiting for his phone to light up from a new text, and just a few minutes later it finally comes.

“Hi! It’s Y/N,” he reads from the notification and he saves the number right away.

“Hello! Save me as Harry. I haven’t even told you my name yet, how rude of me!” he replies chuckling to himself.

“Will let it slip this time. Harry. What a nice name!”

“Is it what you thought about from the H?”

“It was one of my theories. The other one was Hayes, but Harry fits you better.”

“You haven’t even seen me, how do you know what name fits me?”

“I don’t know. You had a vibe. There are many great Harries in the world, you seemed to fit between them!”

Harry wonders if she is thinking about him without even knowing that… it is him. He wants to ask her, but decides not to. Instead, he is enjoying that he can now reach her immediately and not through a comment section. He never thought this would actually happen.

 The texts never stop. They have so much to talk about! Their entire life to share, millions of thoughts and so much to discuss! Harry is not proud of the time he has spent with his eyes glued to his phone, but he wouldn’t miss a chance to talk to her for anything. Their friends are not blind to the change in him, but Mitch is the only one with a guess about why he has gotten so addicted to his phone.

“Is it the girl from the videos?” he asks Harry one time when they are at the studio, having lunch break. Different food boxes are scattered around them, on the table and the couch. Harry’s phone just light up from a text and he immediately dropped his lunch to type a response.

He glances up at his friend with a shy smile nodding his head. He hasn’t talked about his newly funded friendship with Y/N yet, it feels like as if he tells it to anyone it might evaporate into just a dream.

“So you reached out, huh?”

“I did,” he nods returning to his food once his message is sent. “She’s great.”

“Does she know who she is talking to?” Harry’s lack of answer tells enough about the truth to Mitch. “You can’t hide forever, especially if you are planning on meeting her.”

“I know,” he answers shortly. “But I just don’t know how I could even bring it up to her without sounding like a mad man.”

“She’ll need proof.”

“M’not ready to show m’self to her. What if it changes everything?”

“Then it wasn’t worth it,” he simply tells him.

Deep down Harry knows it’s the truth, but he is not ready to be robbed from the joy she is bringing him. He has never felt such a deep connection to anyone before and they haven’t even met. It’s just a version of her he is seeing on the screen, not her real self. But it feels real to him and he wants to keep this reality to himself for just a little longer.

 “I wish I could hear your voice, Harry. You are one big mystery to me, you know that?”

He forgets to breathe for a moment as he reads her message, lying in bed one evening, getting ready to sleep, but he wanted to check in with her before ending the day.

“You know so much about me already,” he types back.

“Not enough, I feel like. Sometimes I’m afraid Nev and Max are about to show up at my door and tell me that I’ve been catfished.”

He chuckles at her words, though he completely understands her fear.

“What do you want from me then?”

“Send me a voice message so I know you are real. That would put my suspicion to sleep. For a while…”

Harry hesitates for a long time until he decides just one voice message couldn’t hurt. Just a short one where his voice is not that recognizable so his cover won’t be over immediately.

“Good night, Y/N,” he tells into his phone and then send the recording to her.

He watches the status change from delivered to read and a couple of minutes go by before she finally responds.

“Thank you. Now I know that you are real. I hope I’ll hear your voice in real life one day.”

“I hope that too.”

 His time spent undercover is coming to an end and he knows it’ll happen soon. It’s been weeks since they started chatting, almost an entire month and she’s been hinting her will to see his face and though he has been putting it off, he knows it has to happen.

Fate is playing under his hands, because he is traveling to Seattle for a few days, exactly when Y/N is traveling there to visit her parents.

“I hope you know you can’t leave without meeting finally,” she wrote when she found out they are going to be in the same city.

“It never even crossed my mind!” he wrote back chuckling to himself, however it brought him extreme anxiety that he is now going to be forced to come clean about who he really is.

He spends his whole flight to Seattle making up possible outcomes for their first official meeting. Not all of them end well and it’s just fueling his fear that he might lose her for not telling her the entire truth.

But she is a smart girl, she’ll see your reasoning, he tells himself, however he can’t entirely convince himself that it will be the case.

In hopes of squeezing in more than just one meeting into the weekend they agreed to meet almost first thing after he lands. So after checking into his hotel he heads into the city to finally meet her in real life in a local café she suggested for the occasion. Arriving to the place he is running a little late and she already texted him she’ll be waiting for him inside. Harry is wearing a beanie with shades to try to keep up his cover and it seems to be working, no one has approached him yet.

Stepping inside the cozy looking place his eyes roam around and immediately finds her sitting in the corner, pouring sugar into her coffee, not even paying attention to the door at the moment, but truth is she’s been intensely staring at it in the past ten minutes she has been there.

Harry takes a deep breath and nods to himself before heading in her way, hands shaking nervously as he stops at her table.

She glances up at him with innocent eyes, a smile spreads across her face as she sees that her mysterious Harry has arrived and she doesn’t recognize her until he finally takes his sunglasses off.

Harry watches her face turn from happiness to surprise then utter shock as she realizes who is standing in front of him.

“You are… my Harry?” she asks, confusion laced through her voice and Harry can’t ignore how she called him her Harry. He likes the ring of it.

“M’orry if it’s a little too much f’you, I really didn’t know how to tell ya.”

Keeping his eyes on her he pulls out the other chair at the table and takes a seat across her while she is still staring at him with a shocked and puzzled expression sitting on her face. Then she looks around in suspicion as he wiggles his coat off his arms, before her eyes settle on him once again.

“It’s not an episode of Catfish, right?” she asks making him chuckle.

“It is not, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry if I’m being weird, but this was literally the last thing I was expecting,” she admits leaning back in her seat. “I believed things like this only happen in movies.”

“Not just there,” he smiles, slowly relieving that she is still sitting there and hasn’t ran out. It’s going way better than he expected.

She needs a little time to put the whole picture together and befriend the thought that she indeed just developed a friendship with Harry Styles through her videos for her brother. The absurdity is still shocking to her, but the more time passes by with him still sitting there, the more she finds peace with it.

Once the shock and surprise is gone they slowly realize they are seeing each other in real life finally. Harry feels overwhelmed, she is even more breathtaking than in her videos and through texts. He is mesmerized by her whole being and could listen to her talk in person forever, he wouldn’t get bored of her.

Time stops existing as they sit at the little café, talking for hours even though that’s all they’ve been doing through texts, but they just can’t get enough of hearing each other, seeing each other’s reaction and be able to see each other and not stare at a screen while talking.

Unfortunately, time never stopped just for the two of them and soon she realizes she needs to head back home. Harry doesn’t want to let go of her just yet so he offers to give her a ride, thanking himself for getting a rental for himself upon arriving. Y/N accepts the offer so the two of them head back to her parents’ home, soaking up the last minutes of their precious time spent together.

“Thank you for today, I really loved meeting you finally,” she smiles at him once they are parked on the driveway.

“I hope I didn’t shock you too much,” he chuckles scratching his chin.

“Just a little,” she admits before they both get out of the car and walking around it she stops in front of him, after a moment of hesitation she opts for a hug that he returns more than happily.

It feels as if her frame was perfectly sculpted to fit in his embrace and Harry can’t imagine how he could go this long without even seeing her in person. He knows it’s gonna be utter misery to be away from her after they leave the city.

“Will I see you before you take off?” she asks letting go of him. Harry looks down at her, the urge to kiss her growing bigger with each passing moment, but he is not sure if it would be appropriate to give it a try on their first time meeting.

“I’m free tomorrow for a lunch,” he tells her and she nods smiling.

“Then I’m free too,” she chuckles.

There’s an awkward moment where they are not sure what else should be done or said and the more they wait the weirder it’s getting so Harry clears his throat as he takes a step back, sad that he has to leave without feeling her lips on his, but he is not trying to be too greedy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he smiles walking back to his car. Y/N waves after him and sitting back to behind the wheel he takes a moment to himself to collect himself after everything that has happened today. His hands curl around the wheel and he is about to start the car when someone knocks on the window. Y/N is smiling at him through the glass and he rolls it down curiously.

“I just…” she starts hesitantly, her eyes wander down to his lips and Harry knows what’s about to happen, but it still catches him by surprise.

Y/N leans in through the window and presses her lips to Harry’s, capturing them in a sweet, long awaited first kiss they both have been dreaming of for quite a while. Harry smiles into the kiss, bringing his right hand up to cup her cheeks as they stretch the moment for as long as possible. Whenever one pulls back the other brings them back for just one more kiss that turns into two more, then three… It takes a long time for them to finally let go of each other.

“See you later, H,” she smiles backing out of the car and running up to the front door, smiling wildly as she waves in his way one last time before disappearing in the house.

 Lying in bed that evening Harry is scrolling through his Instagram feed when he finally realizes he can now follow her without a worry. He is quick to find her profile again and hit that follow button. He is happy to see she was already following him.

He is just about to put his phone aside and go to bed after such a busy but exciting day when a notification pops up on the screen.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video!

He taps on it quickly and her smiling face greets him from his phone’s screen.

“Hi Sammy! It’s me again. Welcome back to our channel,” she starts with a shy smile. The setting is new this time, he supposes it’s her parents’ home this time. “This is going to be a short video, but I wanted to tell you about something. Or someone.”

Harry’s heart skips a beat when he thinks about where it’s heading. He listens to her voice holding his breath.

“I met someone today. We’ve been talking for a while, but I could finally hug him today. His name is Harry, and he is a wonderful man. I think you two would get along well,” she says with a soft chuckle. “I love spending time with him and I hope he feels the same way. Actually…” Her eyes move up straight to the camera, something she doesn’t do often. She usually stares out the window or plays with Henry while talking. “I think he is watching it right now. Hi Harry!”

“Hello, Beautiful,” he greets her back with a smile as if she could hear him.

“I wanted to tell you how amazing you are making me feel. I hope I didn’t disappoint. I was so nervous to meet you today, I hope I lived up to what you imagined me to be.”

“You were so much better than that,” he answers again.

“Anyway… I hope you feel the same way. You are the first guy I’m talking about in an update, so appreciate it!” she tells him and he chuckles lightly. “I’ll see you soon, H. But until then… Know that I’m thinking about you.”

“M’thinking about you too, Angel.”

“Sammy, I miss you as always. I hope everything is well, can’t wait for your next email. I love you,” she smiles before the video ends.

Harry heads straight to the comments. This time he doesn’t leave a lengthy one, just a short line, but it has everything he wanted to tell her.

“I feel the same way.” The comment reads. Just a few seconds later comes the notification and he smiles sweetly at his phone.

Y/N liked the comment.

[btsslowburnfic]

The Arrangement Chapter 9

Series Summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter Summary: Getting your bearings at BigHit

Previous chapter here ---------------------------

It’s fine it’s fine, Yoongi kept repeating to himself this morning after you had left to go to the security office. I’m not even home that often, it’s not her fault. He slipped on a t-shirt and jeans and went downstairs. He put his dishes away and looked in the foyer. Two suitcases and a backpack were sitting there. He couldn’t believe this was all you had. That’s it. He sighed and picked up the bags, wheeling them over to the guest bedroom. He looked around the room and frowned. He would need to order a few more blankets. He took out his phone and ordered some quickly. He walked into the guest bathroom. No towels. He placed an order for those as well. Even if you ended up living somewhere else, it was good to have extra towels and blankets, he reasoned with himself. 

He checked his calendar and yours. You should still be in the security office with Namjoon. He had already texted Hobi earlier.

Y:WTF dude, I thought you were my friend

JHOOOOOOPE: I brought a nice looking girl to your house, how is that not nice **angel**

Y: You can’t just drop someone off into someone else’s house without asking!

JHOOOOOOPE: It’s not my fault no one told you. I was told to deliver your new assistant to your apartment because you needed her to be available to whims at all times. I do what I’m told like every other person who works here. **shrug** it could be worse. I could use an assistant. Send her my way if it doesn’t work **Grin**

Y: >=(

Yoongi walked off the Elevator and saw Namjoon’s smug face there "What the hell is wrong with you?" Yoongi growled, walking up to him. He was surprised he didn’t see you anywhere.

"Not now Yoongi, I have a meeting in 15 minutes." Namjoon sighed. That fucking prick.

"You just dropped a girl into my house without telling me and think I'm not going to have something to say about it?" 

"You knew she was starting today. You agreed that the two of you were going through with all of this. What did you think that meant? Huh?" Namjoon said, almost bored.

"Why don't I get a say in any of this?" Yoongi raised his voice, exasperated. 

"You did. You picked her." Namjoon said calmly as he pushed the up button on the elevator. 

"This is such bullshit!" he yelled. You walked around the corner, surprising him. 

The elevator for Namjoon arrived and he got on it, not bothering to look back. 

You walked closer to Yoongi. "Hey. I'm sorry this was a surprise for you. It was to me too. I thought I would be in a dorm with a bunch of other girls." You gave him a sympathetic look. 

He took off his hat and ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry it's not you. It's just...ughhh…" He put the hat back on.

"Really. It's fine. It seems like Namjoon isn't interested in our opinions though, huh? I'm a good roommate. I'm quiet and I clean up after myself. And I can cook." 

Yoongi wasn’t angry at you, so his feelings had morphed into pouting at this point. "It's fine I put your bags in the guest bedroom." He pushed a button on the elevator. He sighed 

"Thanks Yoongi." you said, standing next to him. 

“And I can cook too. So don’t think that’s part of your job or anything.”

“Now what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t cook for you,” You teased as the doors opened up. You were surprised to see him blushing. He hit the button for the 12th floor, feeling like a total idiot.

You looked so cute and professional. He tried to not think about the fact you had seen him in his underwear that morning. He looked down, mumbling something, hoping you wouldn’t notice how embarrassed he was. He was eager to just get to his studio. He understood abstractly that the two of you would be spending time together but now that it was actually happening, he felt awkward and shy. And vaguely annoyed by everyone else. He got off the elevator with you following. “What are you doing exactly?” He turned and asked.

“I’m your assistant. I’m supposed to help you. Do I have a desk or anything? There wasn’t really an orientation. There isn’t anything on the calendar for the rest of the day.”

“Oh. Ok. Umm take the rest of the day off…? Go unpack?” He shrugged.

You scowled. “That doesn’t seem particularly helpful especially since you want me to move out.”

Yoongi sighed and continued to move down the hallway, “You don’t need to do that. There,” he pointed. “That’s Jiwoo. She’s the office manager for this floor. Ask her if she knows anything. I need to get to my studio.”

You had so many more questions but you didn’t want to bother Yoongi.“Ok. See you later.” You turned and walked over to the woman he had indicated to.

Yoongi continued on to his studio. He had no idea if you had a desk or not. He hadn’t really put thought into it. He cursed himself for not thinking to ask Namjoon about any of this. He detested appearing as though he didn’t know something, which unfortunately meant he hadn’t asked questions when he should have. Oh well. He hoped Jiwoo could straighten it out. Otherwise he would later today. He typed in his pass code and walked into his studio. Fortunately he felt inspired this morning and went straight for his notebook.  

“Hello. Excuse me?” You said as you walked up to the desk of the woman who had been identified to you as the office manager. She appeared to be older than you; her hair cut into a bob, she also had super cute glasses. She looked up. 

“Yes, can I help you with something?” 

“I’m Mr. Min’s new assistant, [Y/N]. Today is my first day and nobody really seems sure what to do with me.”

She laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. They all do a great job with the big picture around here. But the details? That’s my specialty.” She stood up. “Follow me. Your desk is over here, near the lounge area. It’s a little noisy, but it’s across from the coffee maker. Which is important because Min Yoongi loves coffee.”

“Yes, thank you. That is like one of the only things I do know.” You smiled, grateful for any help.

“You don’t have a company laptop yet. I would expect it by Monday. You can do most things via the App though. If something does come up, let me know and we can work something out. Now, if you walk around the corner here,” she led the way. “We have some empty studios. If you ever need to rent space for any reason, they are available under the App. Mr. Min has his own studio so you shouldn’t need to book any spots unless you are helping with a collaborator. Speaking of, here is his studio. Good luck with that.” She pointed down to the doormat which had a cat flipping you both off. You laughed. You looked at the plate by the door. “Min Suga. Genius Lab.”

“Humble. Nice.” You pointed at the placard.

“He is really good though.” She said thoughtfully. She began to move down the rest of the hallway, pointing out the restrooms and arriving back at her desk.  “Also, don’t wait up on him. He’s in there most of the time. Follow your calendar. If you try to follow his, you’ll never sleep or you’ll end up with a sleeping disorder. Seriously. He sleeps in there sometimes.” She sat back down at her desk.

Your eyes bugged out a little bit at this. Damn that was some dedication. You hoped he at least had a futon in there then. Jeeze. “Alright. Thanks so much. I appreciate it.”

You almost wished you would have kept your desk plant now, looking at the empty space. You had a few office items in the bags in Yoongi’s house but nothing really worth going back for. A message popped up on your phone. **ORDER READY MIN YOONGI #2983627** You clicked on it. Apparently there was an order at the store ready for Yoongi. Because there was a store in the company building. Huh. Ok. I guess this is part of my job now. You looked up where the store was and headed down to the 2nd floor. It appeared to be a multipurpose grocery and home-goods store with also a few clothing items.  Looking around you found the *Pick up online order* section and walked over. You queued up and recognized the perfectly coiffed blonde hair of Namjoon’s assistant. 

You gave him a light tap on the shoulder. “Hey!”

Jimin turned around, surprised to see the girl from the interview last week standing behind him. “Hey you.” He smiled, “so you got the job?”

You nodded. “Yep. Sorry again about last week. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He laughed, his eyes turning into adorable crescent-moons  “I’m sorry I literally yelled “shit” at you. So I think we’re even.” He stuck out a hand, “Park Jimin. Nice to officially meet you.” You shook it. “I see you have figured out some stuff. You’ll be on the 14th floor with Yoongi right?”

“Yep. I just got my desk. That’s it. The rest of the day doesn’t have anything and he hasn't given me anything to do yet.”

Jimin turned to move forward in line, with you following suit. He turned back, “Well Yoongi hasn’t had an assistant before but if he’s anything like Namjoon he’ll figure out a million things for you to do soon. Once they get used to it they forget how to even use food delivery apps or how to do their own laundry.” He shook his head. “To clarify: I don’t do his laundry. I coordinate the dry cleaning.”

“And here I was imagining you washing Namjoon’s undies.” You teased, causing him to laugh some more.

“Noooo stop. I don’t want that mental image.” Jimin licked his lips. “If you’re not doing anything later you should join me and Tae for drinks. Not at Club Tokki.” You raised your eyebrows. “Sorry, I peeked at your resume. Think about it and let me know.” He cut the conversation short as it was his turn in line. He concluded his business at the counter quickly. He turned around, carrying a few paper bags. “I’ll see you around.”

You waved, “Alright, I’ll text you about later.” It felt so nice to be included on your first day. He seemed fun. You stepped up and held the QR code up for them to scan. You were handed two paper bags and a larger plastic one. You took them and stepped aside, reading the stapled receipt paper. **PINK TOWELS X 4** on one of the bags. **QUEEN SIZE BLANKET WHITE X 2** on the larger one. He bought me blankets and towels!?!?! You took the bags back to the apartment. Yoongi had taken your bags and put them nicely in the corner of your room. You were pretty sure this stuff was for the guest bedroom and bathroom but you didn’t want to seem presumptuous.

YN: Hey! I picked up your order from the store. Where should I put the towels and blankets?

You waited a few minutes, unpacking one of your bags.

Y: Those are for you. The washing machine is upstairs in the hallway. 

YN: Thank you so much. Pink is my favorite color!

Y: :]

You went and started a load of towels and continued to unpack. Holy shit. This was weird.  You went back upstairs with the blankets. The upstairs loft area had a more lived in feel to it, with blankets strewn over a black couch, a large tv, and a video game system. There was also a keyboard in the corner. There was a short hallway containing a closet and the washer and dryer. You assumed the door at the end of the hallway led to his room. You were a very private person yourself, so you weren’t about to intrude on that. You honestly felt weird being in the loft area, it felt as though the lower level was for show and this was where Yoongi actually lived. 

You moved some more laundry around and decided to head back to the office. You still weren’t sure about joining Jimin for drinks tonight. You decided you would wait and see what the laundry status was. You set a timer on your phone and went back to the office. You stopped by the lounge area and made a coffee for yourself while preparing a coffee for Yoongi. Another ping on your phone.

***EVENT ADDED SATURDAY 6 PM***

Retirement Party for Lee Soobin Akioko Flame Restaurant

The espresso stopped dripping. You added the water and then poured it over ice. You walked over to the studio and gave the door a knock. No answer. 

 You huffed in slight irritation while trying to get your phone out one-handed. 

YN: It’s me. I have coffee.

Y: Leave it by the door.

YN: :( But someone could kick it over

Yoongi took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

Y: Give me a minute.

He got to what he deemed was a good stopping point and walked over to the door, opening it the slightest bit.

“Here you go.” You handed him the iced coffee. 

He took it, eyeing you suspiciously.  “What?” You said, exasperated. You had lovingly hand-crafted this brew.

“You like shitty coffee so I’m worried.” He took a sip. His eyebrows went up. “This is not shitty. This is good. Where did you get it from?” He noticeably relaxed, the doorway opening slightly more. 

“I made it using the espresso maker in the break room.” You said. “I worked in a coffee shop before I was old enough to work in bars. Shitty coffee has to do more with sleep deprivation than actual preferences.”

“True true.” He said, his lips pouting as he took another sip. The sound of a phone ringing in the studio cut through the air. He scowled, making no attempt to answer it.

“Is that your work phone?” You asked.

“Yes. I imagine it’s Jimin or one of BPD’s assistants.”

“So...shouldn’t you answer it?” You asked.

Yoongi shrugged and walked into his office, not bothering to shut the door. You took this as a slight invitation and followed him in. You took a brief look around before the phone rang again and you identified it’s location. You walked over and picked it up. “Genius Lab. This is [Y/N] speaking.” 

Yoongi turned around to ask what the fuck you were doing but then you had sounded so professional, he just plopped down in his work chair instead, a dumbfounded look on his face.

“I’m not sure. I’ll find out and get back with you. What’s the number?” You took out your phone and typed the information in. “Ok yes. Thank you.” You hung up the phone. 

“What are you doing exactly?” He asked. You weren’t sure if he was angry, amused, or confused. He was difficult to read sometimes.

You smirked. “Being your assistant. Would you like me to have this phone forward to mine so it doesn’t ring in here?” 

Yoongi’s eyes grew slightly wider, “You can do that?”

“Yep. There’s an app for it.” You responded, happy some of your previous office experience actually translated to this position.

“Yes. Please God yes.” He said quickly. 

You laughed, setting up the forwarding application. You picked up the phone to see what the number of the studio was. “Alright. I can at least triage some of the calls for you.” You said, satisfied with yourself. “Also. Ew.” You eyed a few take-out containers and coffee cups. “I’m coming back for...this.” You gestured to the room and excused yourself to get a trash bag. 

Yoongi sat there slightly dazed. He rarely let anyone into his studio and yet you had just come in, fixed his phone anxiety issue, and also scolded him. He scrolled through his phone, seeing the event on Saturday. It was annoying but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad with you and J-Hope there. Maybe. Even if it all was a stupid pretend performance.

You retrieved a trash bag from the break room and came back. You started cleaning without saying anything. It was becoming obvious that Jiwoo had spoken the truth, Yoongi really did spend most of his time in here. You made your way around the surfaces, throwing trash away. To your shock, Yoongi just sat there, drinking his coffee and scrolling through his phone.

“Thanks again for the towels and blankets. It was very thoughtful of you.”

“No problem.”

“Are we going to the party on Saturday?”

Yoongi looked up at you, “Sure.”

And just like that, you had committed to your first event at BigHit. “Alright, I’ll let Jin know.”

Yoongi shifted in his seat slightly, “is that who called?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Has he hit on you yet?”He asked casually, belying the fact that he was actually very interested in how you would react to the infamous flirt. 

You giggled. You were almost all the way done tidying up. “Of course. Have you seen his face? He had to let me know how in demand it is at all times.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, him and Namjoon stopped by the bar last week. Idiots.”

“Agreed.” Yoongi felt his body become more at ease with your answer. He didn’t know why he cared.

You looked around the spartan room. “Alright. I’m all done. Do you need anything else?”

Yoongi put his phone down. “Just to get back to my writing.”

You were so very curious but you didn’t want to intrude. “Sure thing. See you later.” You picked up your trash bag and left the room, shutting the door behind you. You were honestly surprised at how easy your day had been so far.  You sat the trash bag down by your cubicle, unsure of where to deposit it.  A text to Jiwoo about the dumpster and an RSVP to Jin about the party on Saturday and your day was almost done. You dropped the garbage off on your way to the apartment to switch out laundry. You were getting tired.

YN: Hey! I’m going to take a rain check for tonight. I am so tired and I still need to unpack ;-; I do want to though, so don’t think I’m blowing you off. Lunch tomorrow? 

JM: Shit I totally forgot you would need to unpack and everything. Sorry. No worries. Also, check your schedule, we have a huge design meeting around lunch time so they will most likely have it catered. I’ll buy you a drink on Saturday if you actually get Yoongi to attend.

You raised your eyebrows. It was on the schedule clear as day, on you and Yoongi’s calendar. Why wouldn’t he attend?

YN: Of course he’ll be there. Why wouldn’t he be?

JM: HAHAHAHA good luck. See you tomorrow!

It was already after five so you didn’t bother going back down to the office. You finished the laundry and finished your unpacking. And then you stood in the apartment just staring. The sun had gone down and the windows had a lovely view of the city. You could see part of the river and one of the many lit up bridges. You turned on the kitchen light. Shit. You had no idea what the food situation looked like here. Your stomach growled. You took some rice out of the cooker, leaving enough for Yoongi and sat at the countertop. 

You opened up your personal email. You had paid the dorm deposit for your brother, using your “disappear in the middle of the night and change your name again” emergency fund to pay for it. It had scared the shit out of you to pull all your money from savings and you still were secretly afraid that the job was lying about how much money it would pay you. Before you knew it, it was 9. 

YN: Hey, I ate some of the rice but I don’t want to just go through your kitchen. Do you want me to order or make anything?

No response. Ok. He was probably busy. You rifled through the cabinets. If his office was any indicator there should be at least a few ramyeon packs you could eat and replace. Bingo. You made a spicy prawn one and texted one more time.

YN: I owe you a spicy prawn ramyeon pack. Thanks again for everything. See you tomorrow.

You set the coffee maker for the next day and brush your teeth. You nestled into your new bed complete with one of your new fluffy blankets. You couldn't remember the last time you had your own bedroom. It was before your sister was born. The two of you had always shared a room. And then 7 years ago you started sharing a room with her and your niece. You took a deep breath, feeling as though you were letting 7 years of bullshit go all at once. If only it were all so simple. NEXT CHAPTER @lidda  @anpanman-sonyeondan  @firefairy1  @cuteipat  @sugaslittlekookies  @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny

[imagineyourworld]

hi! i’m not sure if your ship requests are open or not so pls disregard if they aren’t! but here’s my form thing for a marvel ship pls :)

name: Lisa

age: 19

gender preferred: i’m a lesbian so a woman pls :)

preferred pronouns: she/her

occupation: i’m a student! i’m an acting major :)

hobbies: i like acting, singing poorly at the top of my lungs, baking, spending time with my dog, and some writing :)

personality: i’m an ISFJ, but i’m only really introverted when it comes to ppl i’m not super close to! my love language is physical affection and quality time! i have kind of a darker sense of humor but i also love making cheesy jokes, and i just love hugs and hanging out with the ppl i’m close to! i can be a little shy when i first meet someone, but i open up fairly quickly :)

Hi Lisa,

Thanks for your request! Based on what you told me about yourself I would ship you with Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, just like you, takes a while to open up to someone, but once she does she loves with her whole entire heart. Despite everything she's been through she can see the light and humour in almost every situation and would be there in a second whenever you need help with anything. I hope you're happy with your ship.

Love, Charlie

-------

The first thing you hear when you open the door to your apartment is usually a "Hi, love" or maybe a "You're back early", not a loud bang and muffled Russian curses. Carefully you place your bag next to the door and grab the gun Natasha always keeps on the side table in the entry hall. Making as little noise as possible you sneak through the hallway towards the bedroom, where you could tell the noises were coming from. Maybe Natasha was in danger, maybe someone had broken in, no matter what it was, your heart was beating a mile a minute, even more so when the noises suddenly stopped with a relieved sigh you could tell came out of your girlfriend's mouth. With a bit more confidence you walked through the bedroom door, expecting the worst. Relief flooded through you when you saw Natasha sitting on the foot of your bed, no enemy in sight, but instead a large suitcase next to her, which she apparently had just finished zipping up. The relief was short lived, however, as your eyes fell to the suitcase again. "Are you leaving?", you asked. Natasha, who had been watching you coming closer, shook her head with a slight smile. "No, we're leaving. Now." She got up and grabbed your hand to pull you closer. Once you were within reach she pressed a quick peck to your lips. "You might wanna go to the bathroom first and maybe check if there's anything of yours I've forgotten." With those words she lifted the suitcase onto its wheels and made her way out of the bathroom. Not bothering to question her behaviour you did as you were told and met her again a few minutes later in the kitchen. "What's going on, Nat? Are we in danger?" Realization dawned on her, probably due to your shaking voice and the fear in your eyes. Quickly she shook her head. "No, no, no. Everything's fine, I promise. But I have a few days off and I talked Tony into giving me one of his cars so I thought the two of us could go on a road trip." You raised your eyebrows. You had been expecting a lot, death threats, an assassin, maybe an old enemy escaped from prison, but not a surprise vacation. "I can't just leave without a second's notice", you told her, a small frown making its way to your face. Natasha shrugged. "Sure you can. It's summer holiday, no responsibilities." Both of you knew that that was a bit exaggerated, but maybe she was right, maybe you could give yourself a few days away from all this craziness, just you and your girlfriend. "Alright, I'm in."

-------

"In three kilometers, take exit 63. Continue on Rayroad for 10 kilometers", the mechanical voice coming from your phone ordered. "You could at least tell me where we're going", you told Natasha once more. The two of you had been driving for almost two hours now and all that time she had refused to let you know where you were headed. "It's a surprise, love", she said. The same answer as always. Maybe it was time to give up and just enjoy the ride. Der Weg ist das Ziel, a voice in your head said, reminding you of an old German saying you had once heard somewhere. "If you won't tell me where we're going, can I at least change the song?", you asked, referring to the terrible techno music the radio station had been playing for the last couple of minutes. "Please", Natasha sighed. Though the two of you had quite different tastes in music both of you seemed to agree that anything would be better than this. So you connected your phone to the car's bluetooth and started a playlist you had once created for situations just like this, composed of songs both you and Natasha liked, or at least tolerated. "I love this song!", you exclaimed as the first tunes began to play. Even over the loud music you could hear Natasha chuckling. "I know. This song was playing in the background when I first asked you out, remember?" You were embarrassed to admit that you didn't. Though you vividly remembered every other detail of Natasha asking you out for the first time. The way your hands had suddenly gotten all sweaty, the dark green jumper she had been wearing that brought out her eyes, her perfume that you could smell as she leaned closer to talk to you and the way the sunshine had made her hair look as if it were on fire. "But I remember what song was playing when you asked me to move in with you, two years ago at Tony's party. Though I thought you were joking because you were so tipsy", you reminiscined. For a split second Natasha turned away from the road to look at you in shock. "I was not tipsy! I've had like five shots, I could easily take three times as many." You knew that it was best not to argue with her about how much she could drink without feeling the effects, Tony had tried it once and it did not end well for his liver. "Do you have that song in your playlist we danced to the first night after you moved in?", she asked. As if she even had to ask, during your conversation you had queued it up so it would start playing next. With a quick press of your thumb the song started playing over the speakers and you turned the volume up just a little bit more. As if on command both of you started singing from the top of your lungs. You were quite off, Natasha was a little as well, but it didn't matter. Neither did the pedestrians at the side of the road, who could apparently hear you even through closed windows. Natasha removed one hand from the steering wheel and reached out for yours, giving it an affectionate squeeze before lifting it to her mouth to press a kiss on it. "I'm really glad we're doing this", she shouted over the music. With a smile you big your mouth started to hurt you nodded. You were glad as well. It didn't even matter where you were going, as long as you had Natasha by your side you knew it would be perfect.

-------

I hope you enjoyed a small snippet of a road trip with Natasha.

Translation: Der Weg ist das Ziel = Literally something like The journey is the destination, meaning that you should enjoy the journey, but usually used sarcastically (at least that's how I use it)

[banshee-cheekbones]

i loved your recent fic about snyder cut!barry allen, would you ever write a shipfic with that barry allen/iris west? their meetcute in the snyder cut was soooo cute

hey nonny! I loved this prompt and took a crack at it! I ended up going with nonbinary Barry again, using they/them pronouns. please enjoy!

also used for the fluff square on my @transbingo card. 

~1800 words, on ao3 here.

second chance at a first impression.

At first, when Barry steps into the coffee shop at the edge of campus, they don’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

It’s just a normal coffee shop, part of a chain with two dozen locations spread across the city. Most of the tables are occupied by students, surrounded by textbooks and papers and laptops. While most of the customers are wearing headphones, there’s still a steady murmur of conversation filling the air, weaving perfectly with the lo-fi music playing over the speakers. The place smells absolutely decadent, like fresh roasted beans and sugar and chocolate, and even though they ate a full pizza for breakfast (after going for a quick run to Gotham and back in the hopes of burning off some of the nervous energy fluttering through their body), Barry's stomach still rumbles loudly.

It’s unlikely that eating anything other than the full contents of the glass display case lining the counter is going to have any impact on their hunger, but at the very least, maybe it’ll keep them satiated long enough to keep their stomach from interrupting their first class of the semester.

They get into line, absently glancing down at the time on their phone, only barely aware that there are a handful of people queued up in front of them. They still have half an hour before they have to get to class – plenty of time to get some coffee and enjoy a muffin (or three). Realistically, it could be a minute before class and they’d still have time to eat and end up in a front row seat, but they want to avoid using their powers on campus if possible. It’s probably not completely possible to keep their two identities separate, to keep The Flash from bleeding into Barry Allen, college student, but if they don’t try, then they’ll regret it.

They make a note to ask Clark about it, the next time they have a League meeting. They’re closest with Arthur, but seeing as he doesn’t give two shits about his secret identity being known, Barry doesn’t think he’s the best person to consult in this case.

Once they’ve decided on which three muffins to get, they turn their attention to the intimidating drink menu hanging above the counter. By the time they parse through the options and settle on something that sounds packed to the gills with sugar, they’re second in line, and they lower their eyes from the menu just in time for the person standing directly in front of them to turn around.

Barry’s stomach drops to the floor, but this time, it has nothing to do with hunger.

Standing in front of them, eyes wide, mouth partially open, dark curls spiraling away from her face, is the woman. The one that they saved a mere month ago (although, with everything that happened after that, with them resurrecting Clark and saving the world from Steppenwolf and discovering that, if they run enough, they can completely destroy the flow of time, it feels more like a year has passed since that day). The one that Barry has thought about almost every day. The one that they thought they would never see again – Central City may be small compared to Gotham or Metropolis, but it’s still a damn city, big enough that Barry has a hard enough time running into people they actually know, let alone people they’ve encountered for a handful of seconds.

They were long seconds, though. Long enough that Barry noticed how beautiful the woman’s dark eyes were, noticed how the smile that spread across her mouth once she was out of harm’s way lit up her round face, noticed how soft her hair was when they moved it away from her eyes.

They may have been mere seconds, and Barry may not have found out her name, but that hasn’t stopped them from thinking about her.

And now, here she is. Standing right in front of them.

Barry is faintly aware of the barista speaking to them, probably asking them to move forward and order, but for the first time in years, even though their brain is screaming at them to do something, to move, they feel physically rooted to the spot.

They don’t know what the chances of meeting like this are, but they’re sure that, if they asked Vic to run the math, his answer would be something like astronomically low.

They need to move. Not only because they’re holding up the line, but because this has to be weird for the woman. They only had a few seconds together, and Barry would be surprised if she remembers them in any real detail, which means that she’s probably wondering why she’s being openly stared at by some weirdo when she just wanted to get some breakfast.

And yet, despite the energy they can feel flickering through their body, Barry can’t move. They can’t get over the sheer unlikeliness of the situation, can’t stop themselves from flicking from one what-if situation to the next.

If they had decided to skip coffee and a snack, if they had decided to wait until the last minute and then bolt across the city straight to class, if they had been delayed for any reason, then this wouldn’t be happening.

Why is the universe so unfathomably strange?

Just when they think that the only way to move forward is to give into the Speed Force, shoot through the plate glass window at the front of the shop and hope that the crash causes enough of a distraction that everyone in the nearby vicinity forgets that they were there in the first place, the woman speaks.

“It’s you.” Her voice is soft, influenced by the smile curling her mouth, nearly as bright as the gold, silk scarf tied around her neck. She steps away from the line, over to the small counter stocked with sweeteners and lids and stir sticks, and Barry automatically follows her. Even though they're definitely moving, it still feels like they’re walking through molasses, like time hasn’t fallen back to its regular pace yet.

“You remember me?” they ask, still not entirely convinced that this isn’t some wild kind of fever dream or vision. Maybe they lost their concentration on the way to campus and got mowed down by a truck, and this is a last gift from their brain to make up for the whole dying thing.

If that’s the case, it might be the nicest gift Barry has ever received.

The woman nods. “I do. You saved my life.”

She’s right – Barry may be full of self-deprecation, but even they know that their abilities are the only thing that saved her from certain death. But still, hearing her say it so frankly, so gratefully, makes them feel off-balance, like the world is tilting right underneath their normally so sure feet.

“I was just in the right place at the right time,” they manage to stammer, seizing one of the pronoun pins decorating the front of their black denim jacket and twisting it back and forth, trying to keep their fingers moving at normal human speed. It’s a poor substitution for running, but for the time being, it’ll have to do. “Sorry I couldn’t save your car. It, um, looked like a nice one. I think. I don’t really know much about cars.” Instinctively, they wince at their own words – it may be a true statement (they've never been a car person, even before they gained their powers), but still, it being the truth doesn’t make it any less embarrassing.

Thankfully, the woman just shrugs.

“It was a nice car. But that’s what insurance is for. I have a better one now.” She waves out the window at a yellow convertible, long and blocky and definitely older than Barry is, parked outside the shop, before she says, “I looked for you, afterwards.” As someone approaches the counter, she takes a step forward, so that she’s out of their way. It puts her close enough to Barry that they can smell her citrus perfume, see the flecks of gold glitter mixed into her burgundy eye shadow. “I wanted to thank you. But it was like you disappeared into thin air.”

Close enough, Barry thinks.

“Sorry about that. I… I had to run.” It’s a lame excuse, but it’s not an entirely inaccurate one - they had unfinished business with the dog groomer after all.

(Even if their business didn’t end with a job offer, they got to feed the dogs some sausage from the vendor whose cart got destroyed, which was, frankly, almost as good as landing a job.)

“Well, it’s not too late.” The woman’s full lips turn up into another smile. “Could I buy you a drink? If you have time, I mean. I don’t want to keep you if there’s somewhere you need to be.”

Barry’s heart stutters as they glance at the clock behind the barista counter and confirm that there’s still plenty of time until they’re supposed to get to class. Not that it matters, really - even if they’re late, it’s only the first class. They probably aren’t going to miss anything more exciting than the instructor reading through the syllabus, which is something they can do later (not to mention faster.

They don’t intend on slacking off on their degree – they want to make their dad proud – but they’re pretty sure that the universe has given them a pass for today.

“Okay,” they say, feeling their own lips curl up into a smile that mirrors her. “Yeah, I’d, um, I’d really like that.”

“Me too,” she replies. Waving at the lineup, she says, “After you.”

The line has grown while they were talking, reaches almost all the way to the entrance now, but Barry is more than happy to wait – not only because they’ve completely forgotten what drink they planned on ordering and need to look at the menu again, but also because it means they get to spend a few more minutes with the woman.

Whose name they still don’t know.

“Hey,” they say, looking away from the menu, all thoughts of coffee forgotten for the time being. She’s a few inches shorter than they are, and when she tilts her head up to look at them, they lose their train of thought for a few seconds. Thankfully, they’re able to snatch the train before it completely leaves the station and ask, “What’s your name?”

“Iris.” She shifts her coffee and the bag containing a muffin into one hand and holds out the other. “And you?”

“Barry.” They take her hand and quickly shake it, trying not to notice how soft her skin is, how glossy her deep orange nail polish is.

“It’s nice to properly meet you.” Fingers trailing across their palm as she lets go, she says, with a teasing glint in her eyes, “Don’t run off on me again. Not before I can buy you a coffee at least.”

“Don’t worry,” they reply. Their stomach is fluttering again, but this time, it’s less from hunger and more from the butterflies swarming through it, butterflies that aren’t going to go away anytime soon. “I won’t.”

[ohnobjyx]

Hello what blogs (here on tumblr) can you suggest for bxg's to follow? Found yours and I am looking for more that do the proofs and analysis thing

Hi, anon! I’ve been lazy these days, but with almost 30 asks piled up I should start answering some. About blogs here on tumblr, I can recommend a few:

zhansww and untamedconnotations . I think I’ve reblogged everything they have on this subject, but some of the posts are still queued (if I answer asks, I push them to the top, so I still have a good 80 or so posts in the queue, nnow mainly from untamedconnotations). I liked theirs a lot, they have a lot of very detailed posts (so many it’ll take weeks to read them all), and they also keep up to date. 

twolonesomestars is a new blog, and it’s similar to mine in the sense that they provide answers in long and detailed posts. I like their content very much!

yahargul is a blog that mostly answer asks about this topic (they are very funny, by the way), but for new fans I think there’s not enough context in some of the answers. 

And I like lzswy’s inputs very much, in a lots of topics! 

So these are mainly the ones I follow as well, and when I first created this blog was to mainly have somewhere to keep the posts I liked from those blogs. Happy reading! 

[night-dragon937]

I need to share my experience from a few hours ago (writing this at 2 am aug 24 2020) yesterday but first I'm going to slap a huge tw: abuse, Christianity/gay stuff, anxiety attacks, and yelling/screaming, transphobia/homophobia, self harm/cutting and a lot of cussing/swearing onto this. Like this is deeply religious and I'd rather not have discourse on my beliefs.

That should cover it...

Okay so it started out fine, my mom and i were just talking. She was drunk, and attempting to convince me that my asexuality meant that i was straight... But since she was drunk, I'mma give her that. There was a lot of aphobia but that's not what this is about She started telling me about her experience, and best i can describe it, she's a closeted demisexual biromantic lady with a preference for girls and a shit ton of internalized homophobia ("being sexually attracted to women's bodies more than men's doesn't make me lesbian, I'm still straight")

It was a mostly civil conversation, but it was adding onto my bad feelings from my dad the past several weeks making snide hurtful remarks about our religion and my sexuality and gender. Also using the f-slur against me when i had explained to him in the past how badly that word hurts me, to which he apologized profusely and said he'd never have used that word if he knew how it affected me. Obviously a lie, because he's still using it with full knowledge of the effects.

Back to my mom. She started getting into the religious side of it, but we managed to keep it civil, until the very end when she said she'd be praying for me and i said I'd be praying to help figure out who exactly i am, and she remarked "make sure you're praying to the right person" with a really threatening tone to her voice. At that point, i lost it, let her know that her saying that made me want to go back to cutting (in case she wasn't aware) and said that i needed a moment alone (or something along those lines, i was thrown head first into an anxiety attack and can't quite remember very well).

I ran upstairs as she tried to grab me and pull me back, but i managed to make it to my room. I went into a fetal position, because safe, but she came in and all i remember is her screaming repeating some question, i think, at me, me not being able to breathe, her hands squeezing my wrists way too tight, my wrist pinned to the carpet with her knee, the other with her hand as she tried to grab my jaw and force me to look at her.

Her touching me made the attack worse (hours later i still have marks and scratches) and i couldn't talk, think, or breathe. Somehow i was able to choke out repeated pleas for her to stop touching me because it was making everything worse. I don't know how long that lasted. But at some point she stopped grabbing me and just placed her hands on me and started praying in tongues. Like i was fucking demon possessed. Because i had an anxiety attack. Which my parents have been triggering in me for as long as i can remember.

I managed to sit up and get her to stop touching me, but she refused to be less than a foot away from me, even though i was going through a sensory overload and needed personal space. She finally trapped me into a corner of my room and put her arms on either side of me, one of them holding the door closed. She was screaming in my face and i was yelling over her, asking her to give me personal space and stop being so loud so that i could calm down, which she refused. I ended up very trapped and very uncomfortable and doing my best to not have another anxiety attack while replying to the most outlandish of her accusations, but mostly keeping my mouth shut in an attempt to get her to do the same.

She kept using my deadname, like usual, but it was worse for me for some reason at this point. I mentioned that and got yelled at more. I mentioned her pinning my wrists to the ground and got called a liar and she tried to make it so that i couldn't leave and grab a Kleenex until i admitted she was right and that i pinned myself to the ground (???). So i just started describing what i remembered until she got sick of it and let me go wipe my nose. She must have closed my door when she first came in. My dad (stepdad) was standing outside the door, eavesdropping, apparently.

I got a Kleenex but then my mom started yelling at me again, but i mostly just pretended to listen because i didn't want to have another anxiety attack. My dad started piping in and making me feel so much worse. He ended with saying "you're not a Christian. You don't believe in God. Even the devil believes in God." (Implying that I'm worse than the devil). At which point i started breaking down crying. And then i ran outside to have another anxiety attack but this time my mom just stood on the porch because the grass was wet and she was barefoot, but i curled up under the stars for who knows how long as i forced myself to do breathing techniques, and stim by rubbing the wet grass, which really helped ground me.

I went back inside when i was feeling better and got a drink of water and a Kleenex. And they started telling me how much they loved me and that i might not see it, but they were doing this out of love, because they were concerned for my eternity. I kept pointing out things they were doing that hurt me and better ways to do it (constructive criticism, so they know what's bad for me) and they repeatedly told me how much worse they could make it for me and that i should be glad they didn't make it worse. I pointed out that this didn't make their actions better and they said "doesn't make them wrong, either." Which ????? Victim blaming, abuse, what?

I brought up the times I've cried out to God for answers and the few times He's responded, (refusing my request for Him to kill me, telling me I'm not going to Hell for being gay/queer) bc they kept bringing up a few dubiously translated verses of the Bible and they told me that i was listening to the wrong person. That i was worshipping the wrong one. They heavily implied that i pray and worship the devil (disclaimer: i don't judge those who do, that's your life, I'm not gonna try and decide it for you, also i can admit that the church of Satan makes valid points and treats people right, from what I've seen, this is just a huge insult for them to throw at me specifically because of what I've been taught my whole life). Also invalidating my whole experience just because they don't like it.

They keep bringing up me being involved in the community (following queer people on social media, having one queer shirt, going to gsa-which they told me I'm not allowed to be a part of anymore-, having queer friends) as me seeking validation and attention, and that i shouldn't need validation and it shouldn't be about validation if I really think that this is who i am. Aka, because i am human and seek human things, i must be a total fake and fraud about all I've told them (very little). Meanwhile they do the exact same thing with their friends and social media and each other and everything.

My dad kept piping up with totally unrelated, totally unhelpful comments and tangents while my mom recited the same 5 min spiel for at least half an hour. My dad was saying how my grandparents aren't actually Christians because they agree with me that the world isn't black and white and there are some shades of gray, and because they believe once saved, always saved. That there is nothing you can do, as an imperfect human, to remove yourself from the infinite and unconscious love of God. (... I can't believe he fucking believes that humans have the ability to overrule God because it makes it easier for him to blame and condemn people he sees...)

These are the grandparents who have loved me regardless of my sexuality and gender, even tho they don't agree, and made me feel loved and gave me a place to go when i need to escape from my parents. They're the reason I'm keeping my mom's maiden name (since it hasn't been legally changed) because it's their last name, and it's them i want to honor, not my abusive shitty hateful stepdad. Unfortunately they are moving into assisted living because my papa is in a wheelchair, so i can't move in with them.

He ended that tangent with repeatedly telling me that i was not saved. That i was not a Christian. That i didn't believe in God. And that i was going to Hell. Repeatedly.

My mom made me hug her and made me tell her i love her. I ended up exercising to stop myself from becoming suicidal. I don't know if I'll tell anyone irl apart from the one irl friend i have on here. I'm not sure if I'm going to tell my therapist or not. I reached out to two of my christian friends after everything but they were both asleep. I needed to write this all down and put it somewhere public, just to be safe. I'm not safe in my own home and i can't move out because I'm a. Under 18 and b. Broke as hell

There was a lot more that happened, this lasted several hours, but i honestly can't remember all of the details besides what i typed out. Anyway so yeah i kinda wish i were dead but i also wanna stay alive for spite and show them that i can be a fabulous queer Christian and that the world is colorful, and you can't reduce that to monochrome and expect to have an even partially accurate view of the world. I want to help others like me, and help them feel better about myself.

I'm setting this as a queue so that if my parents take my phone away, they can't stop me from posting it (they have no clue how to look at queued posts) and also so that i can go to bed now and look at it again later and edit it

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, CHARLIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of CORIOLANUS. Admin Jen: There are no words to describe how floored I was by the stellar portrayal you've presented to us, Charlie. With two very strong applications, we were given quite a difficult decision, but ultimately you showed us not only Coriolanus, but Cyrus, flaws and all. There is so much depth and nuance to Cyrus that it makes him not quite an easy character to grasp, but as I read your app, I could see all of it, small details and broad concepts alike, plucked and arranged in front of me in an alluring, mischievous array. You captured every aspect of Cyrus that is distinct and unique to him and him alone, from the various paths that his journey in Verona could take, to the tragic, painfully human starting point that paved the way for it, to his mannerisms and devious charm. He's going to be an absolute menace on the dash and I can't wait to see it! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Charlie

Age | 23 in less than a month!

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | 5-8. I think we all know how chaotic everything gets at the moment and that’s also mirrored in my activity. On the one hand, I have A LOT of free time on my hands right now and a very high motivation to write, at the same time, my mood is also very fickle throughout the day and can quickly jump from feeling like writing a novel to not even wanting to touch my laptop. However, I’m around for plotting basically 24/7 and have established in the past that queuing my replies works very well for me, so I’d be able to deliver replies on a regular basis.

Timezone | GMT+1/CET 

How did you find the rp?  | I’ve been a part of DV before.

Current/Past RP Accounts | https://ofduval.tumblr.com/

IN CHARACTER

Character | Cyrus Sloane

What drew you to this character? |

When I knew I wanted to rejoin Diverona, I also realized that I wanted to write a character, who challenges me as a writer, this time around and thus, started looking at characters I’ve never paid any real attention before as they’re not my go-to kinds of characters.

And then I stumbled across Cyrus bio and, for the first time ever since I stumbled across the group two years ago, truly read it. And what can I say, I fell in love.

He’s darkness combined with the charm and holiness of an angel, a paradox in itself. He’s like Lucifer, the one who shined brightest of all only to fall deeper than all the other angels. And just like Lucifer, he’d rather reign in Hell than serve in Heaven. He’ll do whatever it takes to build his own kingdom. Flectere si nequeo superos, acheronta movebo; if I cannot bend heaven, I’ll raise hell. 

Like the most poisonous flowers, he’s as beautiful as they come and will kill you softly from inside. Cyrus Sloane isn’t handsome nor attractive, he’s beautiful and that’s precisely what makes him so dangerous. To quote The Secret History: ‘Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.’ You’ll fear his name and yet, you also won’t help but feel drawn to it, almost like a fly to a Venus flytrap.

Also, his relationship with Vivianne? W o w is all I have to say about that. No, seriously, I’m so emo over this connection, you wouldn’t believe it. There is just so much potential in there, so much tragedy, so much angst, anger, chaos, and destruction that still deserves to unfold. And I yearn to be the one who gets the chance to do that. 

From reading up on past plot drops and my personal experience within the group (which might be totally wrong, it’s just my subjective perception!), I feel like, so far, Cyrus hasn’t really had the chance to play a key role, to go through the character development he deserves, to matter as much as he should. And I want to give this character, that has grown to be so near and dear to my heart in the past days, the chance to shine that he deserves. For the first time in forever, I can’t even bring myself to truly stress out over the application process as I normally do because this app simply needed to be written, I needed to write Cyrus at least once, even if it’s just in this app. 

Because he does things with me, I myself don’t quite understand just yet. To be frank, Cyrus Sloane gives me a freaking headache, I’m not gonna lie about that. He’s so much and so different from what I’m used to. But still, I just can’t help coming back for more. Which I feel is exactly what Cyrus does? No matter if he hurts you or puts you in uncomfortable situations, you’ll come back craving more. 

And I’m definitely craving more of him.

What future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

mother dearest.

Did she weep when she abandoned him? It’s a question he stopped asking himself a long time ago and yet, it still haunts him. He doesn’t want it to, has done everything in his power to stop caring about it and yet, it’s ingrained so deeply in his bones that even breaking them wouldn’t make him forget it.

Cyrus’ questions of what he did wrong to deserve such a fate turned into hatred for the woman, who is to blame for it all years ago. And still, there is still this childlike curiosity, this desire, so suppressed and ignored that even he believes he’s actually forgotten it, to find out why. 

The dynamic between Vivianne and Cyrus is a very delicate, very intriguing one and I’d love to explore it further. I’m not sure how much has happened there yet as it’s something that needed to be discussed with Lina, but I’d love for Cyrus to get those answers he tells himself he doesn’t even want to know anymore somewhere down the line. Maybe at one point, he might even downright confront her and demand to get them, though this roughness and lack of subtlety would have to be provoked in some way as it’s not his usual style. Nor does he really want her to know that he cares, or acknowledge that himself for that matter. 

I highly doubt that the knowledge of why will be enough to ease the hatred, the pain of the still aching wound that never healed. Finding out what happened, most likely won’t change anything about his determination to see her kingdom come undone as I imagine him being too far down this path for redemption. And yet, it’d be fun to see this already so complex dynamic filled with even more layers. 

see it all burn to ashes.

The tale of a mother abandoning her son, throwing him to the wolves is one as old as time.  The fatal consequences this act of cruelty can bring with it are just as well known. 

And yet, Cyrus intends to outdo them all. 

Considering how I feel like it’s his main character arch, I’m not going to be very concrete here as I think it’s something that needs to be plotted out together with other writers, not to mention that there are so many different routes that this arch could go. After all, all roads lead to Rome. 

One interesting option would be attempting to destroy the Capulets from within. For that, he’d have to make himself irreplaceable. 

This could go hand in hand together with the plot mentioned further below regarding him following into Cassian’s footsteps so I’m not going to delve into that here.

Additionally, In a city like Verona, secrets are a currency more valuable than money, as is information. Mona Chen is a perfect example of the importance of secrets just as the dead witches were. Considering how Mona now not only doesn’t work exclusively for the Capulets any longer but also charges them a heavier price than she used to, it’d be in the Capulets’ interests to replace her with somebody who works exclusively for them, who gives them the information they want for free. I’m not entirely sure of the concrete way to achieve it just yet, but I imagine somebody as charming and talented at manipulations as Cyrus is would be capable of eliciting secrets out of people without them truly realizing what they’re giving up. He might even build his own network of spies to take over that ‘vacant’ position. 

Secondly, he could attempt to set the Capulet empire aflame with the help of the Montagues, after all, there is some truth in the saying “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”. I’m also be going into more detail about that idea in a further plot point.

Whatever route, Cyrus will take in the end, I do want him to make a mark. To do some damage at least. Even though he’s young, he couldn’t have ever crowned himself king of Cape Town if he didn’t know how to gain power. 

the old king is dead, long live the king.

I feel like with Cassian - his mentor - dead, Cyrus is going to strive towards stepping into his footsteps and taking over his role in politics within Verona. After all, it’s what he trained for, what he endured Cassian’s company for. Only that he’ll do a better job as Cassian could have. After all, who could not fall in love with his angelic smile and boyish charm?

Even in a city controlled by the mafia, the civilians still play an important role. Incur the people’s wrath and you’ll find yourself in a tough position. Thus, getting the general population under control is most certainly a way to rise to power (as proven multiple times in various European countries in the past). 

I want Cyrus to get (more) involved with Verona’s politics, attempting to earn the support and respect of members of the leading families of Verona. As mentioned above, secrets are an important currency within Verona and not only among members of the mob. The more respectable the family is, the darker the secrets often are and the more determined they are to keep them hidden from public knowledge. 

Using that to his advantage paired with his boyish charm nobody ever has truly been able to resist, could be his way into politics and subsequently turning Verona into his kingdom.

He managed to do it in Cape Town, why shouldn’t the people of Verona earn to praise his name as well?

maybe we’re just young gods.

Saying Bernadette Dupont and Cyrus Sloane bring out the worst in each other, is an understatement. They’re a match made not in heaven but hell.

I think it’s safe to say that while causing havoc and chaos is fun, it’s not enough for them. For Cyrus at least it isn’t, he’s dead set on pushing the Capulets from their throne and putting himself on it instead. With Bunny as the queen by his side. 

I'm the king of everything and you’re the queen. 

I want to explore their relationship further. How far are they willing to go for each other, what lengths will they go to for their own amusement and selfish goals? Might there even be more going on between them than just causing destruction together? Could mutual selfishness possibly be replaced by truly caring about each other?

the enemy of my enemy.

First of all, I don’t think that Cyrus will ever truly betray the Capulets to become a Montague. Is there a chance of him betraying the capulets? Definitely. However, not to become somebody else’s puppet. No, if he does so, only because it’s in his best interests, because it helps him build his own empire.

His connection to Lawrence, whom he serves as an informant, is already a very intriguing and promising one as it’s a way for him to get involved with the Montagues. No matter what Lawrence might think, they’re meeting as equals, Cyrus only gives him the information for a price that he sets and not because he feels obliged to do so or because Lawrence has something on him. 

Considering how Lawrence isn’t a taken character as of right now and I don’t think he’s the only connection of this sort Cyrus has, I’d love to find a taken character with whom he’s entered a similar symbiosis. 

It’d be the perfect way into getting more power by slowly breaking down the Capulet kingdom piece by piece.

flying to close to the sun. 

Just like Icarus, Cyrus has built his own wings, yearning to fly, to become a god. And just like Icarus, at one point he’s bound to get too close to the sun, is going to get burned and plum into a yet unknown depth. 

Verona isn’t Cape Town and while he made himself a king there, while he built his own empire on another continent, this new playing field calls for stakes higher than any he’s ever known. He turned himself into a shark in a tank of guppies back then, how will he thrive in a tank full of sharks, all bigger and more experienced than him? 

The tragedy of striving to have everything is that you have all the more to lose. The higher you fly, the deeper you can fall. And it’d be such bittersweet irony if his ambition, his thirst to see his mother’s kingdom burned to ashes was the reason for him to get burned. 

I think, especially if I follow up on the previously mentioned plot of him getting more involved with the Montagues, that this has a good chance of getting him into serious trouble. After all, with Viola already being outed as a traitor to the Capulets, the stakes are higher than they’ve ever been before. After all, it only stands to reason the Capulets will be even more cautious now that they’ve found one mole in their midst. If there’s one, who says that there aren’t more? 

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes and no. It needs to be under the right circumstances and, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think I’d want to let him go for quite a while. In my eyes, it’d be a logical conclusion for him to die at some point as he’s just an arrogant boy throwing himself into a war against much older, more experienced people to burn everything his mother ever held dear down and rise as a god from the ashes. I wouldn’t be surprised if this hubris got him killed one day. However, I’d want him to make his mark first somehow. 

 IN DEPTH

muder tw, gore tw

Father, forgive me for I’ve sinned. 

Lips curl into the hint of a smirk as he lazily crosses his legs, right feet resting on his left thigh. The confessional box is just big enough for him to find a comfortable position and yet, his foot touches the dark wood of the wall separating him and the priest. And he cannot help but wonder if its main purpose is precisely that, making it almost impossible to find a comfortable position. 

If a god finds it necessary to intimidate his followers by forcing them to confess their sins in a state of uncomfortableness, he cannot be very intimidating in the first place, can he? 

“I’m afraid I didn’t get your question, padre, mi dispiace.” The words leave his mouth with honey-laced innocence, and while there is not a single hint of doubt in his mind that the priest will buy it right up, the curl of his lips colors their sincerity a lie. It’s almost a shame really, how the insincerity of this show is carefully concealed by the wood in between them, the small openings leaving just enough space for words to transfer back and forth between the two sections. 

Then again, what fun is it if you jump right to the end?

He has a grim business ahead one him, a gruesome duty, one he tells himself he doesn’t necessarily enjoy (except you do, a tiny voice whispers in the back of his mind, he chooses to ignore it). It’s something he needs to do. Betray him and you’ll pay the price, it’s a rule as simple as it can be and yet, one he’d enforce no matter what it’d take. Growing up with catholic foster parents, religion has always played a part in his life. He grew up to follow the Christian beliefs, to respect God and all his messengers on Earth. And yet, doing the Lord’s work won’t save the priest. His treason won’t go unpunished. 

For there is only one god in Cape Town and his name is Cyrus Sloane. 

“Tell me, son, do you regret your sins?” 

The priest’s voice is calm, patient, almost gentle. And yet, it causes him to flinch just slightly. For a small moment, so short and fleeting that it has passed in the blink of an eye, hesitation and doubt shadow his mind. Maybe he shouldn’t go on. If he takes this next step, there’s no turning back. He’ll cross a line drawn so deeply into the ground that it’s almost a canyon. If he crosses that line, he’ll truly be the monster some bold voices already call him out to be in hushed whispers behind his back.

Instinctively, he pushes his chin out just a little, jaw muscles tensing in defiance of the thought, 

Maybe if they didn’t want him to turn into a monster, they shouldn’t have crossed the simple rules he put up. Maybe they should have been smart enough to not try to bury a dagger in his back in the hope of hitting his heart.

Don’t they already know that it’s nothing but rotten flesh anyway? 

“Which one? The ones I’ve already committed or the ones I’ll still commit?” Casual yet empathetic words leave sensual lips with just a hint of amusement lying beneath. And yet, despite it all, there’s a kind of honesty, so sincere and authentic that it cannot be faked, to be found in them. Cyrus doesn’t regret the hard decisions he has to make nor the one he’ll still make in the future; power and the world as his kingdom are his birthrights, a god doesn’t care about the havoc that follows in his wake. And neither does he; if anything he opens it with open arms. And nonetheless, there were some lines that there were harder to cross as others.

The best lies and manipulations always have a ring of truth to them, but maybe that’s just another lie people tell themselves so they won’t have to be ashamed of their true feelings.  

“The ones you’ve already committed will do for now. Confess them and beg the Lord for His forgiveness so that with His grace I can grant you absolution for your sins and you can leave reborn in the light of His mercy.”

A soft chuckle, so full of light it’d put angels to shame, rings through the air, fingers brushing through golden curls lazily, head resting against the wall behind him. “I’m afraid those are more than I can count. If I recall them all, we’ll still sit here tomorrow and your god’s ears will bleed in terror.” 

But then again, the same god stood by and did nothing when his own mother abandoned him so maybe he’s crueler than he’d give him credit for.

Though he tries not to show it, in fact, tries his best to gloss over the priest’s patience is starting to grow thinner and thinner, no longer a sturdy thread of wool but more a silk thread hanging dangerously thin in the air. It’s as obvious to him like blood in the water to a shark, Cyrus feels just as drawn to it. Charm is his weapon of choice, an automatism if he dare say, and yet, there’s nothing quite as satisfying as seeing a grown man slowly but surely come undone. 

Figuratively as well as literally. 

“Do you regret them at least?”

For a moment there is silence, only the damp, cold air only filled by the soft sounds of quiet breathing. Cyrus takes a moment to answer, the tension growing thicker with every passing blink until it’s thick enough to cut. Feet light like a gazelle he stands up and with two decisive steps, long legs moving gracefully, he bridges the distance between them.

“Not really, no”, he says, looking down into the priest’s puzzled face, lips curled into an angelic smile.

It’s the same smile Lucifer must have worn when he stood in front of his creator, so terrifyingly beautiful it could kill the weak of heart.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to confess that I don’t regret any of them”, the smile still locked onto the priest like sharp shooter’s sight on his next target, he calmly pulls the knife out of its sheath carefully hidden by the backside of his Armani jumper and dark jeans. Though it becomes more obvious with every passing second what he’s intending to do, every movement is done in accurate precision without any hurry. 

He rules this town, there’s no need to hurry. Especially not considering how the priest stares at him like a fly caught in a spider net might at the slowly but surely approaching spider, fangs opening wider with every step it takes. 

“I’m not sure if there’s anything I need to confess”, he adds, posture straight and balanced like the king he was born to be, tone as charming as ever. If anybody was looking for a spark of lunacy in his dark eyes, they’d have to look forever for there is none. Cyrus Sloane isn’t crazy, this isn’t the act of an insane person who’s lost touch with all rationality. No, he knows exactly what he’s doing and doesn’t do it despite it but because of it. 

Head slightly cocked to the right, his gaze wanders over the priest’s face once more, soaking up the slowly rising panic like another might the smell of freshly baked cookies. 

It tastes just as sweet in his mouth.

“Che mi dici di te, padre? Is there anything you’d like to confess in front of your god?” 

Be it the one hanging on the cross at the other end up the church or the one standing right in front of him. 

His words leave a sense of finality in their wake, he knows they both can feel it. Good. As exhilarating as this little situation is, there’s only a small line between exhilarating and boring. 

The priest’s eyes open so wide that Cyrus is a little afraid they’re gonna burst. Now that would be mess he wouldn’t envy his dry cleaner having to get it out of his clothes again.  

“I’m sorry”, he starts to blather, regressing to a man half his size and age, eyes full of not yet spoken pleas for mercy. Mercy that won’t be granted, but he doesn’t know that, at least not yet. Soon he’ll find out while taking his dying breaths that this town has no mercy for those betraying its king. “I didn’t mean to…”

Before the old priest can finish his sentence, Cyrus cuts his throat with one swift, determined motion, blood bursting out like air out of a ballon as soon as the cut is made, spraying his formerly clean clothes.

He couldn’t care less.

Carefully, he wipes the blade clean with a handkerchief, the one innocent white cloth now tainted by the crimson red of treason, of revenge. He tucks it back into his pocket before stepping over the lifeless body without giving it another look, his face as unreadable as a dark, cloudy sky.

Father, forgive me for I’ve sinned. For deep down, I know I’ll do it again if I have to. Without any shame or regret. 

 Extras: You can find a pinterest board here.

[steveramsdale]

Big dipper Blog - 10.10

This blog is, essentially, the same as last week’s. There are some alternative factual details, but they are superficial. Anyway, you could just reread (or remember) last week’s offering and save yourself a bit of time. If you do decide to read on, we could make it more fun. You could try to decide for yourself the highest high and the lowest low. Remember, it’s just for fun. There’s no prize, so don’t write, text or email.

I think, as people, we are supposed to grow, to learn, to develop. That’s the most startling revelation you’ll read today. Adversity can be, I’m told, an opportunity for such personal growth. It may, in fact, be true, that I have been learning about myself. I wonder if my ‘issue’ is that if one thing is wrong, it affects everything else. See what you think.

On Saturday, my chief goal was to get the car de-registered and get the papers I need for me to be able to export it. The police centre I needed to go to was advertised as opening at 9:30 so I had time to get up and get sorted. I had a wonderful colleague on notice to be available for telephone translation if necessary.

I took a 6am trip to the shop through the park. Many people were already out running, I’d say 100 or more and it’s not a big park. Much of Tashkent has given up on lockdown.

Soon it was time to head off for the simple process of taking my car off its registration here! Google maps took me behind the centre where there was no gate. It was not difficult to find a way round to the front. That was the last time a problem was easily solved on Saturday. When we got the van and went to register it for the first time, the father and son who sold it to us, took me and helped. Even so, when we got there, they accepted the help of a man who was at the centre to do just that - help, for a fee, people through the process. He charged me about £20 but probably saved us 3 or 4 hours by knowing what to do and going to the front of queues. When I returned to the scene of this lengthy but problem-free process, there were, again, these free-lance ‘sorters’ and I decided it would be worth accepting help. The price was about the same. However, the first problem emerged in minutes. The address. I knew, back in September, that this would be a problem one day, would bite me on the bum. Sorry, I forgot to say that this blog would contain strong language and adult themes. I have a credit card-sized, well, card which is my ownership document (log book). It has all of the details about me and my van. So, of course, the address is our old address. Now, in my passport, I have my new address. I did not sort this out. The people at the centre said they could not de-register me until I changed the address (of course I questioned this), and that I could not change he address there but had to go to the centre in Yunusabad. I paid about £2 for something and my assistant asked for (and received) about £5 for his help. I set off for the other centre.

Long-time readers may (won’t) remember that at the original registration, we also went to two centres - the wrong one first. The centre I had to go to now was that ‘wrong’ one. I love symmetry, and here it was. When I got there, again came the offers of help. There were more guys here and they wanted £60. I declined, at this rate. I first drove into the inspection hall. Here they check the car against the ‘tec-passport’ as the credit-card is called. They match up the chassis number, etc. I had the papers from the first centre, so that went through without a hitch. Thereafter, the day was just a big hitch or series of small hitches that’s looked like one big hitch. We return to the Uzbek system, seen at the Kazakh border (remember) of needing to go from window to window, room to room. However, I was soon (a relative term) told that I would not be able to deregister the van until I had proof that I was leaving the country too. This would be in the form of a stamp in my passport given by my landlord! This cuts a longer story short and, by now, includes Miss Viktoriya as my telephone translator. I was certain that this could not be right (by the way, the miss-matched address was no longer an issue. It would mean, for example, that an Uzbek could not export a car to a relative in Russia! I tried explaining this, we went back to the main hall to talk to the boss a couple of times, but no one was changing this story. I phoned Pim, the export guy who has helped with every stage of this van conversion, and he put me on to a colleague. We talked and he also spoke to the officials there but got the same answer. Pim then told me that his people would look in to it more on Monday (yes, this story goes on) and help to sort it. The woman I had been dealing with insisted that I go back to the other centre and get my £2 back - which was an incorrect charge. She even phoned them to arrange it for me. I didn’t go back. Not for £2.

As an aside, there has to be a better way for the authorities to organise this free-for-all. The system is not a system. Queuing is almost non-existent and the mass of people at peak times is ridiculous. The spivs there to help....It is bad enough in normal times, but while a pandemic is still around....

So now I was free, for the rest of Saturday and Sunday to worry and consider the prospect of being unable to send the van (and the ridiculous amount of other stuff) home. Here is where I realised that this one problem took over everything. I heard that cafes and restaurants would be allowed to re-open on Monday and immediately thought of Ecorn. I should have been more happy. I wasn’t. I did decide I would go and have a chicken caesar sandwich after work on Monday.

Monday was a tough day. There quite a lot of end of year stuff at school, practical stuff, which I’m finding stressful. Then there’s this. The rule is ridiculous but it seems to be the rule! Then, some good news - someone offered to help me. I had called Ekaterina, the woman who deals with staff visas and registration. I thought that she would know about this stamp I needed or would be able to find out. She did not know about the stamp but said that she would go with me to the car centre to find out about it. I still had the papers. We went after my last lesson and when she was free. We went to the office of the ‘Saturday woman’. She wasn’t in the office but her colleague remembered me and said I could go to the main room. We went across and up to a free window. Ekaterina spoke to the police officer there. He immediately told us that no such stamp was needed and, had I brought the car, or even just the number plates, he could have done it there and then! We had gone in a taxi. I asked if there was time for me to go and get the plates then, but there was not. I resolved to go early the next day as he said it would take about 30 minutes. And suddenly the world was full of sunlight and joy again. I looked with pleasure upon my fellow Uzbeks, pushing to the front of queues and standing too close to each other.

We shared a taxi as Ekaterina lives quite close to the centre. I enjoyed (really enjoyed) my Ecorn sandwich. Life was good again. As an aside, these were my first taxi rides since The 22nd March. I saw Z—- JB so I’m sure KB is out there somewhere. Will I see it?

On Tuesday morning, as planned, I went back to the Gai. It opens at 8 so I was there at 7:30. The officer from the evening before was the first to arrive and had the key for the room (more of a hall, really). My first lesson of the day is at 9. School is a 15/20 minute taxi ride away away (I was going in to school to do some of the other jobs I have to do), so this would be a doddle. I was the only customer. I had the number plates and the documents and handed them over. The officer began the process. After about 20 minutes we went over to the cassa (the payment room. He took me. It was about £6. The woman there said I should go back to get my refund (I had given her my receipt from the other place). I agreed that I should but did not say I would not. A taxi there and back would be about £4! We returned to the main room. he continued the process. Time continued to move on. More customers began to arrive. Many went to my guy’s window and he flitted between my job and theirs. None of them could see the ‘maintain distance’ stickers on the floor. These were very obtrusive, written in Uzbek and Russian and invisible to local men. As time ticked on, it was clear I would be late for my first lesson. I sent my students an email. I waited. Eventually, my officer moved across the room, to a computer. This is it. he’s going to print my papers. After about another 20 minutes, I saw the ‘printing’ notification/animation appear on his Windows ME screen. And, five minutes later, he was handing me the paper work. It was done. My first lesson of the day was abandoned but I had what I needed.

One more observation here - no one in Tashkent will be getting coronavirus of the chin.

While I was feeling sorry for myself, over the weekend, I saw people collecting rubbish being moved on by the police. I have mentioned previously, that there are always people sorting through the rubbish bin. The mostly seem to be collecting plastic bottles but take anything of value. This group of four had huge bags of plastic and were near ‘my’ bins. I have no idea why four police men were moving them on. I wondered how many plastic bottles you would need to collect in a day to ‘make a living’. I also wondered what these people had done wrong, ‘stealing’ my rubbish. I also wondered why I had been feeling so sorry for myself trying to sort out my ‘huge problem’. Perspective. It had gone. It has returned but I did not know it could be so fleeting.

I did some lessons at school on Tuesday and began all of the sorting, packing and tidying tasks. Mafirat, my TA, was in too. The internet is not great at school! It was good tom see people, but I was not entirely comfortable.

On Thursday, working from home again, I decided to go for coffee out before work. While walking round I saw two kittens playing and stopped to say ‘hi’. One had jumped into a ditch but the other stopped and looked at me. It the looked back at its mother (I’m guessing but 99.9% sure). She came stalking round a bush. She was ready to attack me if necessary. It was not necessary.

The fire engine and disinfectant squad were also back. While I was out, they sprayed all the way up the stairs in my building, so I imagine they were going through all of the buildings.

Thursday was also the day I would take the van. I had loaded everything. I had stuck the paper transit number plate in the front window. I was ready to go. It is a short drive to Pim’s warehouse. Of course I was stopped by a police man. he wanted to know why I was driving without number plates. As soon as I showed him the paper plate stuck in the window, he was fine. At the warehouse, about six guys unpacked everything and re-packed it in their boxes. It was (is) a ridiculous amount of stuff. And so, I left Munisa with strangers, to travel alone on the journey we should have made together.

And if I did stop at Ecorn and have another caesar sandwich, that’s nobody’s business but mine.

There were children playing inside my building. This is the first time this has happened. I could hear three or four playing further up the stairs - laughing and running around. Later, while I was talking to Mairi and Fred, they were outside my door. They were having a good time. I don’t know why they were playing on the stairs and I don’t mind. It was nice to hear voices and laughter.

Also on Thursday, in my last lesson of the day, guided reading, two notable things happened. A high and low (you decide). In our morning English lesson, we had defined some vocabulary, including ‘bittersweet’. We had talked about the meaning, in terms of taste, of the two parts of the word. They said they were happy that they understood it. The guided reading was Kensuke’s Kingdom. I had not realised it was the last chapter. We were suddenly at the end. I can assure you there are no spoilers ahead. As I was reading, I suddenly found myself getting emotional. The two main characters were interacting and I felt that I was going to cry. In fact, I did. The events of the last two or three paragraphs got to me. They are relevant to my situation, I suppose. This has never happened to me before in a lesson. I always tear up at the end of Sister Act 2 (the cinema’s greatest achievement) but this is a new one. One of the students said “Oh Mr Ramsdale, don’t cry!” The postscript didn’t help, but I regained my composure.

We talked about the complex emotions of the ending. One of my brightest students only every joins in through the chat. I looked in the box and she had written one word. -‘bittersweet’. My work here is done.

I know it’s been a longer one, but there are a few loose ends and thoughts.

Returning to an old them, I heard ‘unite together’. I also heard ‘plateaued off’. Unnecessary, people. Perhaps I should have said ‘returning back to an old theme’.

I saw JB. Driving over to the centre, I saw E___JB. So they’ve been out for a little while. Appropriately, the driver got that plate from one of the centres I went to this week!

Let’s finish with Trump. I mean that in both senses of that sentence. This week he again asserted that testing causes cases of the virus, so testing is bad. He also said that if people stop calling others racists, racism will quickly go away. At what age do toddlers acquire the concept of object permanence? He’s not there yet. If we can’t see him, will he cease to exist?

And that’s it. What sort of week has it been? Bittersweet.

See you next time.

[jiminscaramel]

Can i request angsty shownu? Like he decided to end the relationship but you against it and the rest is up to you. Thank you! Oh and no happy ending 😂

Ahh lovely, a nice angsty-angst. Thank you for requesting! I hope you like it!

*queued*

You notice he isn’t himself, he hasn’t been for the past few weeks but you only put it down to stress. He’s been under a lot of pressure and you’ve only done your absolute best to be there for him.

But something is different, something doesn’t feel right. His shrugs and sighs of exasperation and frustration seem less directed to the world and aimed more at you. His distance seems it has nothing to do with stress and everything to do with you just being around him. All the little things you notice, that you would’ve usually just overlooked, amount to a big problem.

It keeps you awake at night, analysing and assessing your actions; scrutinising and carefully monitoring the words that come out your mouth during the day.

But you cling onto the fact that perhaps it isn’t you, maybe it’s you nitpicking, overthinking things and finding meaning in things that aren’t actually there. But you always trust your gut, if not your heart, and both were singing a song warning.

And so with the dreaded dreaded words of “we need to talk” comes the confirmation of the feeling you’d suspected all along. The questions begin to saturate your mind, flooding and overflowing with bewilderment and hurt before he’s even said another word.

You stop stirring your cup of tea, teaspoon hanging in the air above the cup and stare at his back in fright. You don’t want to have this conversation and you’ll do anything to avoid it.

“Don’t say it so seriously,” you laugh nervously, rounding the table to sit beside his hunched figure.

He rests his chin upon steepled fingers, brow furrowed in deep thought, lips pursed in an effort to keep his emotions in check.

You know he’s hurting because Shownu, more than anyone else, feels deeper than anyone you’ve ever known. The thing that separates him from the rest is his impeccable ability to hide the complex layers of emotion beneath a blank facade.

It fools everyone else but you. You notice the details that give him away every time; his eyes lose their shine and become flat, boring into yours with a sad intensity and the corners of his lips twitch as if he’s making the greatest effort not to cry.

“It’s not working,” he says flatly the minute you’ve made yourself comfortable beside him.

The expectation does nothing to soothe the shock that stutters your heart and you can barely hold yourself together, your control unravelling into a messy heap at your feet. “What’s not working?”

He turns slightly so that he’s peering at you over his shoulder, but his gaze is tinted with disdain. “You know what.”

“Actually, I don’t,” and there is a little truth to it, you don’t know what’s not working. Because everything had seemed perfectly fine on your end. So what’s changed?

“We’re… we’re not working.”

“Since when?” You fire back, determined to get to the bottom of his reason.

“For a long time. I’m not… happy.” He hesitates and you’re sure you hear his voice break as he makes the quiet confession.

“I thought we were. I thought everything was ok.”

“You know, to be honest y/n, nothing is ok.” He’s turned so that he can look at you head on and the weight in his words – his eyes – choke you up. “I’ve thought about a lot–”

“No–” because you can’t bear to hear the next onslaught of words that are sure to change everything in the worst way.

“–and it’s not something that happened overnight. I love you, I always will. But it’s not the same anymore. And we both deserve to be happy, it’s not fair otherwise.” His voice remains consistent, unmoving and flat and it only upsets you more.

How can he say such things with such little emotion?

“Shownu… we can talk and solve whatever’s hurting you. Just don’t shut me out, please.”

He shuts his eyes and you think you’ve gotten through to him, that he’ll give in and apologise but when his eyes flutter open again, a look of set determination rests behind them and you know it’s over.

“I’ll stay somewhere else over the weekend and we can sort out the finer details another time.” And for the first time you notice a duffel bag sitting by the door.

“No,” you whisper to yourself, shaking your head in absolute disbelief. But the most important question is why; no matter how many times you think it, it never makes its way past your lips. Because you’re afraid of what the answer may be.

The door shuts behind him and the defeating silence is almost too much to bear. You’re left to cry and wonder why things had ended the way they did.

Perhaps you’ll never know.

[magistralucis]

Ed Banger House Party @ Electric Brixton, 25 Jan 2019 [Review]

😍 Fucking fantastic you funky little Frenchmen... 😍

This was a very wild night. I can’t quite believe I survived it, even as I finish off writing thousands of words about it. It’s probably the most detailed review of a concert or show I have done to this date. I finally saw Sebastian in the flesh, was treated to over eight hours of sweet sweet music, and feel that I have begun my Ed Banger-related pursuits for this year in the perfect way.

And the loot. The sweet, sweet loot.

Read on for more. Mobile users, be warned this is a very long post.

The Journey

If you’ve read my other gig reviews you know the drill: I don’t live in London, have to commute there from wherever I’m living at the moment, London is difficult to navigate. But I had no trouble with my journeys this time, there were no Underground closures, and this venue was exactly the same one as the TBB show two years ago. Nothing to report there, only that I give props to our driver. There was an accident on the motorway, about 25 mins into a 2hr 20min journey. He took us on a thirty-mile detour to avoid the scene of the crash and still got us to London in time. If you’ve ever been on a National Express coach, you know what a big deal that is.

That wasn’t the only accident we stumbled upon in our journey, somewhere in Croydon (part of Outer London for non-UK readers) there was an altercation between two drivers and something like thirty police officers were present. It is rare to see that many police officers on scene for a single collision, so I wonder whether something more sinister was going on. All of them were wearing fluorescent vests and they reflected the light of the traffic most gloriously for a ten-meter stretch of the pavement. It was very attention-catching. I like to think they shared the same general sentiment of (o_o  ) when they looked over and saw an entire busful of people goggling at them, but that’s neither here nor there. It was around 8:30PM when I got to London, and I spent some time lingering in the train station before making my way to Brixton.

I like queuing up early. I had no idea what I was going to find there.

9:20~PM: If you follow Thibaut on insta you might have seen this.

This instastory. It’s not obvious, but these three were far from the only ones in this picture. I know this because I FUCKING WALKED IN ON THIS PHOTOSHOOT. THESE THREE WERE NOT THE ONLY PEOPLE THERE. THIS WAS A VIP GROUP SHOT SESSION WITH 25+ PEOPLE OUTSIDE ELECTRIC BRIXTON AND I NEARLY BARGED IN AMONGST THEM LIKE A MOTHERFUCKING IDIOT

I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! ;A  ;

I’ve met my favourite bands spontaneously. Gone for signings. Received compliments from Rammstein. I’ve shaken hands with Xavier. But I’ve never just happened upon an entire group of my favourite people engaged in a situation not meant for ordinary fans. I was honestly more terrified than elated. I knew they were VIPs because they (all DJs included) had blue wristbands on which allowed continued re-entry into the club, instead of the usual red club stamp on the back of the hand. Later in the show I recognized two of those people as stage photographers. Pedro was closest to me, Irfane passed by (he had very vivid eyes, even under poor lighting), and around the right-hand side Thibaut was putting his arm around Sebastian. I may have seen Vladimir Cauchemar unmasked. Shit was surreal.

This could potentially have been a good place to greet Sebastian zdravo. Unfortunately there’s a time and place for such things, and a VIP photo session I wasn’t involved in was not one of them. (Electric Brixton isn’t known for facilitating after-show fan meets either, due to the club’s structure and how everyone has to be herded out at the end.) Even if it were just the Ed Banger folks milling around, I'm not sure if I’d have been able to approach them in this case. ‘Cause ultimately, I am just an Animal Experiencing Fear, and I was caught so off guard; I stepped back and pretended I had nothing to do with the area. At least that way I could gather my thoughts and continue to observe.

I can tell you this entire moment took five minutes from 9:23pm to 9:28pm, but only because I checked my phone later. I didn’t want to take it out in the moment because I got paranoid they’d think I was a creep. As the phones and cameras were put away and normal conversation resumed I looked up and saw Sebastian five steps in front of me.

You know that recent Seb + Vinco picture. Hang on I’ll find it. You know the look Seb has in that pic?

That. That is his actual gaze. That is what Seb actually looks like when he has nothing to pose for and nobody to speak to. Unless something mind-boggling was happening in the empty space several feet away from where I was standing, that’s his normal nothing-to-see-here expression. At one point we met eyes. I think he blinked like once. You can’t tell his eyes are blue even from a short distance. He looked down, exhaled vape smoke, and bit his lip. Then someone (Myd?) ushered him into the open doors. And that’s how I accidentally stumbled upon the Forbidden Ed Banger Content, and while I was excited at what I saw, I think I’d prefer a do-over in the future. When they’re not all engaged in other business, when I have a pen and an adequate surface, and when I am not a fool with poor timing.

Also Sebastian was not as tall as I thought he was, but also far from short; Irfane was taller than I thought, but visibly shorter than Thibaut; Thibaut was taller than I thought, but no match for Pedro, whose height continues to boggle my mind. I have seen all of those people before, save for Sebastian. Pedro I have seen multiple times, with multiple people, in multiple contexts. Yet I still have no grasp of how tall anybody is in this label.

I don’t know what that implies about my visualization skills. At this point, I’m too scared to find out.

9:33PM: I’m going with this timestamp because that’s when I noted down that security cleared out completely with the VIPs, closing the front doors behind them. A girl comes up near me and stares at the venue, the ‘Ed Banger Records’ written in lights, then at the queue barriers (not open) for some time before turning to me. There were maybe five people altogether waiting.

Girl: Excuse me, is this the queue for people with tickets?

Me: I don’t know. We might be queuing to find out where the queue is.

Girl: [To a freshly emerged security guard, holding a sandwich.] Excuse me, do you know if there’ll be tickets at the door?

Security guard: [Incomprehensible - he’s speaking at close distance and a bus is freshly pulling up behind me, so I can’t hear them. He goes inside and shuts the door as soon as he says his piece.]

Girl: He doesn’t know. What am I going to tell my friends.

Me: Oh my God did you not get tickets.

Girl: My friends did! I was meant to get in early and get the drinks and stuff oh my God I DIDN’T KNOW THEY WERE GOING TO BE SOLD OUT 😰

Me: DIDN’T THEY SAY THERE WOULD BE A LIMITED RELEASE THOUGH 😰

By this time we’re both mired in anxiety.txt and others were coming forwards with the same experience. A group of three girls who got there shortly after me were all waiting for door tickets, and a guy came along who had a ticket for himself but was trying to get his friend (Asian girl, very pretty) in. (I will see this friend repeatedly throughout the show, but not the dude.) Eventually we looked up what the Electric Brixton website had to say, and gathered that a very limited number of tickets were available and they were all here at the right time to purchase it. As far as I know, everyone there got in without trouble.

First release tickets were £15.00. Later I was told it was £25.00 at the door.

Yeesh.

9:50PM: They finally open up the queue barriers. I’m fourth. Several of us in the line take a poll on who we’re here to see:

Pedro: ///

Breakbot: //

Sebastian: ////

Riton: /

Vladimir:

Myd: /

‘Everyone’: //

‘I’m here because of my friends’: /

The girl in the above section answered with the last one. Ed Banger rookie. Writing this now, I’m sure she had the time of her life.

I say Sebastian. Two guys in front of me nod sagely. One of them wears a Woman Worldwide T-shirt and a Justice logo jacket. We mutually express wonder that Seb’s, like. Doing anything again. At this point, however, the queue is split into two: ticketed and buying at the door, on the opposite end of the entrance. The girl and I say farewells as she departs for the latter. Unfortunately, I do not get to see her again. It’s a shame. She was lovely.

9:55PM: Security emerges with QR code readers and club stamps and starts to call us in go go go go go go go go

9:58~PM: The bouncer initiating pat down pauses over my portable battery for a very long time, seemingly considering whether that’s legal. Fuck my life. Eventually, though, he lets me in and I s p r i n t for the bar.

It has begun.

A note before I start: like the XOYO gig review last year, this review has been composed via rough notes, photos, and videos I took through the show. It was a longer night than last year, and everyone played for a lengthy period of time; this review is thus split into six sections, one for each DJ, including timestamped observations and photos/gifs of the night.

The gifs are taken from my own videos. Unfortunately, Electric Brixton’s setup made photography difficult for three reasons: 1) an abundance of flashing lights, 2) the elevation difference between the dancefloor and the DJ booth, unlike in XOYO where there was no audience-DJ divide, and 3) smoke machines, as well as actual vapers in the form of Sebastian Akchoté. Those three things make a mess onscreen, so images are potato quality compared to where I was (front center). This was a constant problem during the night, so instead of complaining about it with every DJ, I’ll just refer to this as the I Cannot See For Shit (ICSFS) syndrome and call it a day.

Busy P (10PM to 11:50~PM)

10PM: Mother fucking sons of bitches raised the price of water!

As mentioned in the TBB review, a 500ml bottle of water at Electric Brixton was £3.00 in 2017. (Even in 2019, at a supermarket it can be as little as 55p/500ml.) Harsh, but it is what you’d expect from London. But when I came back they’d raised it to a whopping £3.60. You could buy yourself a meal with that kind of money, albeit a small one, even for London. Disgusting.

But what can you do with something as necessary as water. I did expect it. I’m sore about it, is all.

10:05PM: Restroom visited, water bought and tucked into bag, jacket tied around waist. I was wearing armwarmers. I take my place by the barriers, front row center, with a guy on my left and an empty space on my right. Left-hand arrangement will not change during the night, while on the right it will be chaos.

10:10PM: Very superstitious / nothin' more to say / very superstitious / the devil's on his way / thirteen month old baby / broke the lookin' glass / seven years of bad luck / good things in your past

This is my first video of the night. Might upload it later.

10:21PM: USE IMAGINATION 💫 AS A DESTINATION 💘 USE IMAGINATION 💫 AS A DESTINATIoOoON 💘 USE IMAGINATION AND COME CLooOoOSER 👄✨ 👄 FOREVER BEEEEE 😘 😘💋

‘Pleasure’ summons the two dudes I was talking to in the queue to my right, especially the Justice fan guy. They stuck with me through Pedro’s set.

10:30~PM: Pedro looks a lot happier than he did at XOYO last year. He’s interacting a lot with fans, smiling, bopping about the way we have all come to expect from him.

10:40PM: I see the first glimpse of another DJ hanging around at the back. It’s Myd, drinking in a corner.

10:50PM: Is that what I think it is. I think it’s what I think it is

10:51PM: POP THE GLOCK THE GLOCK YOU POP IF YOU OUTTA LINE IT’S YOU I’LL BANG POP POP THE GLOCK THE GLOCK YOU POP IF YOU OUTTA LINE IT’S YOU I’LL BANG POP

Fantastic to hear some Uffie in the mix. I missed her so damn much. I think I might upload that clip as well because I want to share the experience with y’alls.

10:54PM: Thibaut jitterbugs into the scene. The lighting’s too bad for a photo so I post about it on the hellsite instead.

11:19PM: The display in front of the DJ booth has remained constant until this point, displaying the Ed Banger logo with only the occasional change in lighting. But now the display suddenly starts changing. Check it out.

It got really trippy with Breakbot.

11:29PM: ‘Genie’ comes on. I can see Thibaut and Irfane at the back now, ready to take over. I take my first drink since I entered the club.

11:52PM: HE PUT ON ‘BURNIN’. HE ACTUALLY DID THAT.

Pedro picks up the mic at this point and greets us for the first time during the night. I have what he said on video but it’s hard for me to transcribe it over all the audience noise, it might have to be an upload later on; I have videos of most DJ-DJ segues of this night, so hopefully that should be an interesting exercise. According to the timestamp on this video, 11:52-53PM is when Thibaut put on the headphones and took over from Pedro, but he continues to linger

11:55PM:

just so he can cOMPLETELY LOSE HIS SHIT APPARENTLY.

Breakbot (Thibaut and Irfane) (11:50~PM to 1:30AM)

12:00AM: At midnight Thibaut and Irfane take over fully with ‘Break of Dawn’. There’s something wild about listening to people sing a song with no lyrics (da DA DA DA darararaRA).

12:05AM: Irfane was on serious mode all night. I’ve also realized that the light situation is not going to get better; if it was Pedro alone I could have forgotten about it, but Breakbot’s set was where the ICSFS got really, really bad. There are so many photos where I tried to capture beautiful moments between Thibaut and Irfane, as they were quite touchy with one another (not as much as they were at XOYO tho), and yet it all turned to shit. I’m so sad.

12:10~AM: The two dudes to the right of me leave. The music is most funky fresh and the smoke machines are on max, so much I cannot actually see either of the DJs on scene. A girl wearing light blue takes over to my right.

I think Electric Brixton has reached full capacity. It’s not a big venue, fitting only about 2000 people or so, but I can feel it in the air. I look behind me and all around me are unfamiliar faces, packed tightly in a crowd. It’s hot. I take off my armwarmers and cram them into my bag. 

12:16AM: Irfane baby I love you but that was not a smooth segue.

(I don’t actually know what song he was on but the music like. Stopped 100% for a second. It didn’t sound intentional.)

12:25AM: I have a note on my phone that says ‘12:25 Pedro making heart’. I have no memory of this. Fangirl magistralucis what are your secrets.

12:30AM: you 😍💖 are all I think about 😍✨😍✨😍 keep me sulking and down 😘👇🏼 but you fill me with 🔥 so much 🔥 emotion 😳💖😳 and I’ll show my 🙏🏼🕊💐 devotion 💐🕊🙏🏼 to you ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

12:31AM: I cannot see for shit. Here have a light show I guess.

12:36AM: Dance, dance with me / Life's a fantasy / Stand next to me / Like ecstasy

12:48AM: Irfane puts on ‘Funkytown’. Thibaut dances beautifully. I’ll drink to that.

12:51AM:

What the hell is this?

1:07AM: Extra, extra, read all about it! The Mysterious Ninth Planet, located at last! Turns out it was in the hands of funky Frenchmen all along, who were hoarding not just the ninth planet, but ALL THE PLANETS

1:08AM: You may have seen what was happening during the above in Irfane’s instastory, actually. He put on ‘Le Freak’. I wonder whether I should upload this clip from where I was.

1:10AM:

?????

1:20AM: Pedro comes back into view. I try to film him but it doesn’t work out, and for once it had nothing to do with ICSFS. The girl to the right of me, who was rocking out for all of Breakbot’s set, is beginning to slump over on the railing. "Are you okay?” I call, but I don’t think she heard. From how rapidly it came on, how she could barely stand during the first five minutes of VC’s set, and how frantically her and her friends left afterwards (she could barely walk), it is quite possible she was going into diabetic shock. She did not return.

This is a known issue. You generally cannot bring food into London clubs, even if you’re diabetic. Electric Brixton had a complaint two years ago that a diabetic person was not permitted to bring in their food to prevent this exact thing happening. I hope whatever she had wasn’t that serious, but. I do wonder.

This leads to a note about security, I suppose. There were none up front by the barriers. There was no one to call for help to, except for maybe the stage photographers, and that’s not what they’re trained to do. People who were falling sick or too inebriated to stand would have benefited from having security help them beyond the barrier straight away, instead of having to wade their way back through a tight crowd.

This continued to be a problem.

1:20~AM: Vladimir Cauchemar is visible. He doesn’t have the skull mask on, but with something smooth concealing his face, kind of like the Taikobots of Danger’s Taiko-era set. When he takes over he has put the mask on.

Vladimir Cauchemar (1:30AM to 2:30AM)

1:30AM: I gotta say, VC was the easiest and the best to photograph in this show, and I both respect and resent that fact.

VC’s lighting stayed a consistent red and black through his set, similar to how it was at XOYO, and the clearest images I have of the night are of him. I’m still not over his collab with 6**9*** so my impression of him isn’t out of the woods yet, which is why my notes for him are brief.

I tell you what, though. He got the crowd going. VC was the first DJ to get the dude standing to the left of me dancing, and this is the dude who stayed the entire eight hours of the night by my side while on my right people faded in, faded out, barged into places. (Dude was holding out for Sebastian, but stuck around for all of Myd as well.) His set had serious limitations - the most gregarious sin of which I’ve noted down below - but he had a great stage personality. I have very mixed feelings.

Still didn’t prevent me from standing out certain songs to go on Russian duolingo, but that was my pride.

1:35AM: ‘Aulos’ comes on. I will upload that video because I might as well, I’ve little else videoed for VC. Someone taps my shoulder. It’s the friend of the dude whom I encountered outside, the Asian girl. “Can I put this here?” She calls, and places her coat down beyond the barrier; there are steps on the other side where you can place your drinks, bags, coats etc if you’re front row. She withdraws behind me afterwards, and when I next look back, she’s gone.

1:40AM: I’m honestly surprised how many people are digging VC’s set. He was not first choice for anyone I asked.

1:51AM: Vladimir, Aulos is great but not twice in the same set.

2:00AM: Third drink of the night. My legs are getting numb. The first 3-4 hours of a set are always the hardest. I don’t remember what VC was playing. At several points he played Michael Jackson but I have no record of when. I stood still to rest my legs and distracted myself with other pursuits.

2:18AM:

Hi I’m in this photo and I don’t like it.

2:26AM: VLADIMIR. AULOS IS GREAT, BUT NOT THRICE IN THE SAME SET.

This. This is the major problem with his set. I know it’s his biggest hit, but VC exploits ‘Aulos’ way too much, and from what I hear he essentially does this for every set he plays. Would it injure him to play a different song every now and then. Seriously. There are so many excellent songs in the world, and some of them might even be ones he’ll drop in the future. Why stick to ‘Aulos’ alone. I don’t get it.

2:26~AM: As I was noting down the third instance of ‘Aulos’, the girl who put her coat down returned. “Can I have my coat back?” She calls over the sound, and I peer over. I can’t see the coat. The red spotlight passes over the floor; the coat’s rolled off the steps and is now lying on the ground.

“I can’t reach it.” I shout. “It’s fallen off.”

“Oh no.” She shouts. 

“Can you wait until the segue?”

She shakes her head. “I’ll go over the barrier, but thanks.”

I offer to help her over, but she doesn’t think she'll make it. She ducks out past the crowd and goes around the side instead (no security to stop her), runs over to grab her coat, and then leaves straight away. She’ll be back for Sebastian’s set, but now it’s Riton time.

Riton (2:30AM to 3:30AM)

I didn’t enjoy Riton’s set very much. This had 0% to do with his music and everything to do with the chaos on my right-hand side, which made it worse. If it was the artist that was bad you chalk it up to a mismatch in interests, but knowing other concertgoers unilaterally deprived you of a good experience is a unique level of terrible. There are no timestamps for this section because I was too busy keeping an eye on my surroundings to take notes; he was also afflicted with the ICSFS, which didn’t help, but it’s a darn shame how much I missed out.

Oh and that too. That was his light show. Riton was a special guest and his name/logo was the dominant display for the entirety of his set. But I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to talk about the chip on my shoulder.

Here’s the thing. I attend most of the gigs I go to by myself. I prefer it that way because I get anxious when things go wrong. I have a very specific set of items I bring with me to concerts, and practice very meticulous timekeeping. One of the rules I observe during gigs is that I do not move from my position: I prefer front centre or front centre-right generally, but wherever it is, I stay put.

I am not a tall woman. If I lose my place, it is unlikely I’d get it back. I’m full of anxiety about being at my place, but I’m more anxious to avoid losing it, so I defend it with all my might. I have never lost my place in almost ten years and this show was no exception. But my goodness did the guys to my right push my buttons this time. The guy who was to the right of me for Riton was with a group, all of whom were banging on the barriers and creating a ruckus. Just my luck he was the only one who seemed actually inebriated. He kept putting his head down on the railing, slumped over for minutes at a time, before suddenly raving and flailing around whenever Riton dropped a beat. He had no consideration for whoever he was accidentally knocking about (i.e. me) during this. And as I said, there was no security up front, so I was on my own.

At first I had some sympathy, because I still wasn’t over the girl who left earlier. I’ve never seen people who were inebriated/high during shows last very long where they were, either. But the fifteenth time dude nearly poked my eye out, it was just too much. I do not like people prodding their way into my personal space. I do not like it, Sam-I-Am.

The last time I had to be vicious with a concertgoer was at TBB, where a ginger-haired girl kept on trying to tear people from their place up front, and eventually was ejected by security after she got into a catfight with another girl next to me. Apparently this time it was my turn to give into Righteously Indignant Bitch Hours and the next time he started flailing his arm into my neck, I grabbed him and slammed his hand onto the railing and shouted “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU.”

I wish I could say this made him stop. However, life is dumb. Dude was too out of it to comprehend his own actions, let alone my complaints. His friends pulled him out of the front row for about five minutes but then he came staggering back, muttering something about his lens cap (?) and if I’d seen it. It wasn’t long before he began to barge into the surrounding people again. Only elbows were the solution; I can barely move my right arm even now, it feels so bruised. I’m not proud of what I did, but I’m not sure what I could have done differently, and I would do the same even now.

But, you know. It could have been worse. If you’ve been front row, you know there’s a difference between those who’re trying to grab a good time and those who act out of malice. The former usually try to sneak a hand in next to yours on the railing, or crash into you from the back, or wedge their way in - but they almost always follow it up with an apology, and they tend to carve out their own little space, not actively steal yours. Yes I’m talking about that ginger-haired girl at the TBB show again. I’ve attended full on firebreathing industrial metal shows at much bigger, suffocating venues, and yet those audiences still managed to avoid being vicious and petty. She was the worst. Holy shit. It’s been two years and I’m still mad. Fucking bitch I hope you step in a puddle. What was I writing about again? Oh yeah the dude. He wasn’t acting out of malice, but out of irresponsibility. And to be honest, his friends weren’t that better, save for a girl who was about five feet eight tall and complimented that I was still standing later in the set: “I had to sit down after Thibaut and you’re still jumping like nothing happened!”

That made me think about my own stamina. I never thought I had much. I’m twenty-five years old. I’m in my prime, but I had more energy when I was eighteen, and I am old enough to keep that in mind. I’m not getting younger. After a show I’m bruised and my muscles ache and I pass out asleep for hours at a time. I’m usually awake for 30hrs~ during those times. I don’t eat or drink much before shows to prevent bathroom breaks. I ate on 3:30pm on the 25th and didn’t touch a single morsel of food again until 7am on the 26th, and even then it was a sandwich. After dancing for eight hours.

It’s been that way for years. But maybe most people? Don’t? Do that? And maybe I am? Actually quite strong? For regularly surviving what I do to myself?

I don’t know. Let’s move onto what I think 70% of you are here to read about.

Sebastian (3:30AM to 4:30AM)

3:30AM: Predictably, Sebastian gets the loudest cheers of the night when he comes on. Riton announces him and passes him the headphones. He still does the hand thing, by the way.

This thing.

3:30~AM: Not an observation of the moment, but of the entire set. Seb played some big name EDM songs and what I believe are versions of his YLS tracks. He was the only set I wanted to record in full, but I wasn’t tall enough and my equipment wasn’t good enough to do so. ICSFS is in play. I sort of hoped he'd stuck with his vicious red lighting from Primary Tour, and he did, but not to a degree where I could get good shots of him.

Is anyone excited for him to drop an album this year or what. Pedro said he would.

3:38AM: Seb also has the dubious honour of being the only DJ who contributed extra to the ICSFS problem. He vapes through the entire set. I have lots of feelings and I don’t know what to do with myself honestly.

3:39AM: Neither do the dudes to my right. They are the friends of the inebriated dude who has since staggered off into the crowd. They are completely losing their shit, screaming and taking their shirts off and kicking at the barriers. They contributed to some of the bruises on my right arm. But they still didn’t take my place so whatever.

3:40~AM: Seb is not a smiler. Photographer comes by and he gives him a single glance before turning back. I don’t know why I’m surprised.

3:43AM: The Asian girl with the coat from earlier comes back. She asks me to deposit a different layer of coat this time over the barrier, and stands behind me. I feel very protected.

3:50~AM: Balm to aid my pain: photographers start coming down from the stage to pass out Ed Banger pins and stickers. The first lot are thrown into the audience, but the second photographer takes the time to give all of us one. This is the first time I’ve scored thrown Ed Banger merch during a set. I usually can’t reach them because I am smol.

I am also bonding with the dude to my left during this time. We collaborate to catch the pins we want and share them out between the two of us. He gets the Ed Banger melody logo pin, and gives me the Ed Banger 15 Ans pin. “Are you sure?” I ask. He smiles and nods. I thank him and hand him a Breakbot sticker, one that’s of his name. 

4:06AM: What the fuck the lights are changing

4:06AM: Is that

4:06AM: IT IS

4:07AM: IT’S JUSTICE. IT’S HEAVY METAL. SEB’S PLAYING HEAVY METAL AND HE’S DOING THE HAND THING AND THE LIGHT SHOW’S TRIPPY AS FUCK ALL OF A SUDDEN AND EVERYONE IS SCREAMING AND THE DUDE LEFT OF ME IS DECLARING HIS LOVE FOR SEB IN FRENCH AND I AM SCREAMING OH MY FUCKING GOD

4:09AM: HE SEGUES TO ROLLIN’ AND SCRATCHIN’. HE LITERALLY DID THAT. SEBASTIAN AKCHOTE IS PLAYING ROLLIN’ AND SCRATCHIN’ AND WE’RE ALL GOING BATSHIT INSANE. I’M SORRY FOR THE BAD CAMERA WORK. THIS IS HOW I DIE.

4:15~AM: Myd is finally going back and forth. He will close the night after Sebastian has finished his set. Looking back on the videos of the night, I can’t believe he only played for an hour; it felt a bit longer than that, Sebastian never let up for a single second as long as he was onstage. Not a single minute wasted. And now you’re going to have to excuse me babes because he’s puttING ON STRESS AND WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE AGAIN RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW

4:24AM: AAAAAAAAAAAA

(Seb’s still playing Stress. Looping the chainsaw noises. Steady camera work lmao what steady camera work)

4:30AM: Sebastian hands over the reins to Myd at this point. I do not have a video of this segue because he does not announce the takeover; with one of his inscrutable hand gestures and a proud look, Sebastian takes up a whole bottle of wine and silently walks offstage. Again, I don’t know why I am remotely surprised. That is probably the most Seb thing I have seen Seb do all night, and it was a night extremely full of Seb things.

At this point I stop jotting down notes on my phone. But I’m at about 58% battery and going strong, so I’m still taking photos and videos whenever I can. Myd’s section is reconstructed from these records.

Myd (Round 2) (4:30~AM to 6:00AM)

4:30~AM: Not a specific observation. As mentioned in the Breakbot review of May 2018, I have unfinished business with Myd. Or at least: had. Myd played the closer in XOYO last year, and back then I was weak and I could not stay through his entire set. I swore to myself the next time he returned, and I was able to see him, I would last as long as he was onstage.

And I did. That’s one promise to myself kept, and what I hope was a little justice done for a DJ of Myd’s caliber.

4:35AM: Coat girl taps my shoulder again. “I’m going home. Could you...?” She gestures to the barrier, and I reach down and pull up her coat. It didn’t roll onto the ground this time.

“There you are.” I say. She takes it and gives me a hug. “Have a good night.”

“Have a good night!” Then she’s gone, alongside the exodus of people who are leaving the club. More people stuck around for Myd here than in XOYO. Guy to my left nudges me to look; stickers are coming around again, specifically the ‘Hello My Name Is _______ [Myd]’ one. We each take one.

4:44AM: I’m out of water. Actually I was out of water immediately before Seb finished, because for some reason I thought downing the last of my only means of hydration with over 1h 30mins to go was a sensible thing to do. I regret this decision bitterly, but I’ll probably survive.

4:58AM:

@_@

5:03AM: It is very difficult for me to ID Myd’s tracks. I suspect a lot of them are original or are from his recent release that I haven’t yet listened to. Appropriate to a closer, he takes a very trance-inspired line to his entire set, with lots of repetition and few loud drops; this was the same in XOYO. I wonder what a Myd headliner set must be like.

5:10~AM: The guy to the left of me is struggling. So am I. But further to his left, there is a guy slumped on the rails. His girlfriend is beside him. They’ve been there all night, but they’ve clearly reached their limit. My right hand side keeps refilling and emptying as people step away or leave.

I talk about that other guy because he summons Thibaut to him.

5:28AM: I took several vids of this but this timestamp belongs to the longest. Thibaut comes back with his own phone to film the audience. He winks and shyly gestures all of us to gather our strengths and be more pumped up, and I recall we obliged him because he asked so nicely. He lingered for some time, gazing at us as fondly as we were gazing at him. He then looked at the guy slumped over on the railing and hopped down from the stage, gently patting his shoulder to talk to him.

I didn’t hear any of their conversation, save for Thibaut asking the dude ‘where he was from’. By the way he clasped his hand to his chest several times, though, I’m inclined to think he was really concerned about the guy. They eventually shook hands and Thibaut made as if to hop back onstage. (The photo was taken as he was leaving.)

Except he couldn’t jump that high. He gave us another shy look and braced his foot against the barriers, perching neatly on the stage before clambering up. He stuck around for about five more minutes to check up on the audience.

I love Thibaut so much. He’s so gentle.

5:34~AM: Holy fuck my bag is full of crap. I haven’t organized it in some time. Discarded cups, beer cans etc have accumulated by my feet, and as I kick them away I’m trying to check my loot is in place and I still have my items. I can’t feel my passport and my blood runs cold for a moment. I turn the camera flash on to look.

“Are you looking for something?” The guy to my left asks worriedly.

I feel my passport in my front pocket. False alarm. “Just organizing my bag.”

(I didn’t see any lost foreign ID or driver licenses on the floor this time.)

5:43AM:

Russian duolingo says fuck millennial lives

5:50~AM: The smoke machine is turned off. I still can’t see for shit, though, because the lights flash rapidly between deep blue and violet and Myd’s hidden behind it.

My last video of the night is timestamped 5:55AM. Myd has a most benevolent smile on his face. He knows the night is drawing to a close.

6:00AM: I did it.

We made it.

I have made it through a Myd set fully and have survived the night.

Myd finished exactly at 6am and exited to a crowd of applause. There are calls for an encore, but given that it's... like, literally morning, it’s not realistic to expect him to stay any longer. Security comes by as soon as he exits, and we all leave Electric Brixton behind at last. The sun has not yet risen. I fall in step with the guy next to me.

Guy: Where are you heading to?

Me: Coach. I came up from Brighton.

Guy: From Brighton?! Was that last night or what?

Me: Yep, two hours before the show. I haven’t eaten or slept all night.

Guy: Wow. [Pause.] Though I think that’s the longest I’ve danced in my entire life, too.

Me: You’re not kidding. I really didn’t think I was going to last beyond Sebastian.

I think he was a Londoner. We say farewells in front of the Electric Brixton bus stop, and I leave for the Underground. My legs are numb and I can barely walk, but somehow I stumble past the barriers and sink into the seats of the train. Back at Victoria Train Station I drop in at Sainsburys for a sandwich and two cans of grape soda, and then realizing I need a resealable container to take on the bus, buy a bottle of Pepsi. The grape soda was just because I really love grape soda and I cannot find a place in Brighton that sells any. It was around 8AM when I finally got on the coach back home.

I had not slept for some twenty hours. I continued to not sleep on the bus. I tried very hard to, but I couldn’t, because I was still buzzing from the adrenaline. It wasn’t until I got home, just after 11AM, that I began to feel sleepy for real. Sig. other made me a cup of tea, and I took the interval to admire some cat slippersocks that had arrived for me in the meantime.

LOOK AT IT.

Overall I’d say this was a fantastic night. I have taken care of unfinished business and seen Sebastian in the flesh. I have, however, come away with another unfinished business to replace the deal with Myd - I should seek out Riton again, the next time he comes here, and deliver a full review of what that was like. To think of the Ed Banger crew making their way across Europe in 2019, with new material and a new Sebastian in tow...

😍😍😍

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Forgotten Alliance Ch 41

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x OC with other parings mentioned throughout.

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: Canon Typical things

Author’s Note: As a reminder, FA can be found on ffnet up to chapter 42. I am uploading chapters here on tumblr for convenience. I decided against tagging this until new chapters are posted. If you would like to be tagged please let me know! Chapters are queued and will be posted randomly. Enjoy

Coming home should have felt like the best thing in the world. But it wasn't.

Coming back should have meant that there was some relief of being back in familiar surroundings instead of traveling to different states in unfamiliar territory. But stepping back into the one place Elizabeth had been calling home for years had now felt different. It didn't feel like home as it did before they had packed up and left. Even as Elizabeth walked into the courtyard and looked around, there was something about the place that felt...off.

There was silence and an emptiness that surrounded her without any explanation. Maybe it had something to do with the fact she had been away for so long. The time away from here had been hard in itself and here she was back at the compound empty handed and nothing felt right. But as her hazel eyes scanned every wall, every column, every stair case that she could see, it was foreign to her. The Mikaelson crest that had been embedded into one of the columns had sent an unwanted chill up her spine that forced her to look away from it.

Malakai walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Home sweet home." He said sighing softly as a smile formed on his face.

"Doesn't feel like it." Elizabeth said as she continued to look around as if seeing the place for the very first time. There was something in her voice that stated clearly 'this is no longer home' and Malakai hadn't missed it. There was something about the very place she stood that no longer felt like home at all. She had this feeling deep down with in her that from the moment she walked through the doors, her home felt like a strange place to her entirely. It made her want to turn around and walk right back out of the compound without another look. It felt like there was no longer a reason to be there anymore. The warmth she had felt before leaving was no longer there.

"That is only because we haven't been here for a year, Liz." He said walking around her so that he was standing in front of her. "Once we get settled back in, why not go take a trip to see Hope and Hayley?" He asked trying to take her mind off the thing he thought was bugging her. "You haven't seen them and I am sure Hope would love to see you."

While it should have brought a smile to Elizabeth's face mentioning Hope, in that moment, it seemed to mean nothing to her. It just meant seeing two faces that would make things a whole lot harder. The past year had pushed Elizabeth pretty hard and all she wanted to do was go off somewhere on her own, anywhere away from here. She didn't want to be around anyone. Malakai could see that. He could see that she wasn't herself. She hadn't actually been herself for a while now and it scared him. Her eyes didn't give off that glow that they always had. She didn't even show any excitement that she would be returning home to see Elijah.

Ignoring what Malakai said, Elizabeth began to make her way up the stairs. "Make sure Veronica is getting settled back in." She said not turning to look back at Malakai.

Malakai sighed and looked towards the entrance of the compound. He watched as Veronica walked in with her bag. Her smile faded the moment she seen Malakai. Dropping her bag, she walked over to Malakai and hugged him. "She'll be fine, Kai."

Malakai hugged her back and shook his head slightly. "Something tells me its not as simple as saying she'll be fine. What ever happened out there when she ditched us, it wasn't good."

Veronica pulled away from him and looked up at him. "She might just be stressed. I mean she hasn't really slept, not to mention her feeding habits have been a roller coaster ride. It could just be the weight of it all."

"I don't think this has anything to do with stress, Veronica." Malakai shook his head. "She went from being completely fine one day to something being different about her the next...It wasn't fun burning all those bodies. We both know she hates letting herself indulge on her darker side and that was not her falling off the wagon either."

Veronica sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "You're right." She said nodding. "She has been too different."

They both looked up towards the room where Elizabeth probably disappeared into. It had been her room and since they had been back the last few minutes, there had been nothing but silence coming from it. Elizabeth had been silent the whole way back. It was like something had her attention inside her head and the world surrounding her meant nothing. It left both of them worried and they weren't sure what to do.

"Maybe she just needs to go and see Elijah." Malakai said as a suggestion. "Maybe once she there in the spell she'll snap out of whatever mood this is of hers."

"Is she even going to want to?" Veronica asked. "She seems like she just wants to be left alone."

"I believe she just needs a little time." Both Veronica and Malakai turned to see Jess entering the compound.

"I'd ask how you know, but that answer is obvious." Malakai said shaking his head.

"This trip was supposed to be the game changer, remember?" Jess said as looked between the two. "She was hoping to have the cures with her by the time you guys came back. She wasn't able to accomplish that. My guess is she is taking that pretty hard at the moment. If it had been you in her position, I am sure you'd want some space as well."

"Its a set back." Veronica said shaking her head slightly. "We can just regroup and head back out."

"Unfortunately, that isn't an option this time." Jess said sighing.

"How is it not?" Malakai questioned.

"Elizabeth has known her future for quite some time, Kai." Jess looked up towards Elizabeth's room before looking back at them.

Malakai rose an eyebrow and took a step closer to Jess. "You mean to tell me, she knew this trip would be a waste and she still went?"

"She hoped it wouldn't be." Veronica said placing her hand on Malakai's shoulder. "Even if you knew something wouldn't work out in the end, wouldn't you at least want to make an effort to fix things."

"Well, yeah." Malakai said with a nod. "But that doesn't tell us why she is acting different after she ditched us out there."

"She ditched you?" Jess asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you think you may know what have happened?" Veronica asked.

Jess chuckled. "I only see pieces of her future. I don't see every waking moment of her life. Every vision that I see can take days, weeks or even years before they actually happen."

"Who wants to be the one to go up there and actually ask her what happened?" Malakai asked looking at the girls.

"I'll go." Veronica said as she turned and headed up the stairs to find Elizabeth.

While Elizabeth had in fact walked into her room, she never moved more than a few feet after doing so. Veronica had found her standing just inside the room as she stared at everything that was in sight, at least that was what it looked like from Veronica's view.

Veronica frowned as she stepped into the room and stood next to Elizabeth. Elizabeth never once acknowledged her presence. She just stood there.

"Liz?" Veronica tried pulling Elizabeth out of where ever her head was at but she still stood there. "Earth to Liz." Veronica moved in front of Elizabeth and it seemed that Elizabeth was still staring straight ahead. Veronica sighed and was about to give up when a thought crossed her mind. She placed her hand on Elizabeth's head. If she couldn't get Elizabeth to come out of her head, Veronica would just have to go to her. But when Veronica entered her mind, it was not at all what she expected to find.

Moving her hands away from Elizabeth's head, Veronica shook her slightly. "Liz."

That had seemed to do the trick. Elizabeth blinked a few times before her eyes focused on Veronica. "Hey." She said with small smile.

Worried was written on Veronica's face for a moment. She needed to know what the hell she had just seen. "Liz, remind me again why we are looking for the cure for your venom."

Elizabeth groaned in annoyance and rolled her eyes slightly as she walked over to the cart filled with alcohol, pouring herself a drink. "I'm beginning to think finding a way to get a cure for my bite is really pointless." She brought the glass up to her lips, taking a drink. "But if you want a recap, it's because we don't want a repeat of what happened."

"And what was it that happened?" Veronica asked as she watched Elizabeth. She just needed her to say the one thing she needed to confirm what she believes she knows. She could see Elizabeth sigh for a moment. The look in the woman's eyes had looked sad for a only a second before she shook her head.

"I will never let that happen again." Elizabeth had whispered as she took another drink from her cup. "You already know the gory details you don't need me to retell them." She said before walking out onto the balcony.

"Where all did you guys go and do while you were away?" Jess asked Malakai as they sat down at the table having a drink.

"At first, we never left the borders of Louisiana. " Malakai said with a slight nod. "She wanted to be close just in case if she was needed."

"But she never was." Jess added.

"No. She wasn't. She called Vincent and Josh a few times and checked on everything, but every time she did, they would reassure her that everything was fine. That no one was getting to Klaus anytime soon. And when she finally believed that he would be okay in her absence, we left completely. Her whole plan of finding this one particular wolf pack in Montana had been the easiest thing in the world. We had found them easily."

"I sense a 'but' coming." Jess said with a small smile.

Malakai smiled and shook his head slightly. "They were welcoming. They did not care that the three of us had been vampires, which was surprising. Elizabeth was able to talk with the Alpha and tell them why we had gone searching for them. But the moment she brought up what she was, they feared her. Rumors had spread far and wide about what Elizabeth had done almost five years ago. She spent a few months trying to gain their trust. Hell, we all did. But in the end, Elizabeth ended up taking what she wanted."

"What did she do?" Jess asked a bit worried.

"I have never seen a vampire compel a werewolf before." Malakai admitted. "I always thought since they were a supernatural creature that they were safe from it. She had easily compelled him and had him in a mask before any of us could even blink. She had taken the venom that she needed and we left. When we did leave, it wasn't exactly as quiet as we'd hoped."

"You were followed." It wasn't a question and Malakai knew it as well. But he nodded anyway.

"That was when she ditched us." He said before taking a drink. "Veronica and I had managed to make it safely back to where we were staying, but Liz was no where to be found. Sure we were worried about her, but being as that she can't be killed easily, we knew she would eventually make her way back there. It took about two weeks to find out that she had left the state altogether. Looking back at it now, she had left us to lead them all away from us. That's how she has always been. Putting others before herself even if it was better to stick together. But when we eventually caught up to her, there was something... off about her."

"Like what?" Jess asked.

"She was silent. There was something in her eyes that you could just see that something was different. She looked empty as if something she cared about the most was taken from right in front of her." He shook his head thinking about how they had found Elizabeth. "She kept insisting that she had been fine. She wouldn't tell us what happened while she had been gone. For about a week she kept saying that we should just leave and forget the plan, but we kept pushing for her to continue. We did for a while, but we soon found out that it was much harder to convince the other packs we were friendly."

"They all knew what happened in Montana?" Jess asked with a raised eyebrow.

"They did." He nodded. "They knew she needed the venom and if we even stepped a foot into their territory, bullets and arrows went flying. But the packs weren't the worst of our problems. It was Liz's feeding habits. At first she would take more than she normally would before she'd heal them and send them on their way. Then it grew to where Liz would continue to drink from them until Veronica has to pull them away from her. Eventually, she drank from them until they were dry. There had been one night while Veronica and I had slept that she left a trail of bodies leading away from town when she decided she wanted some time alone."

"That isn't like her." Jess said shaking her head. "Even back when I was younger, she never left someone dead. Yes, she would drink from them but she would only take a little before sending them on their way. I know she had problems falling off the wagon, but you guys were there for her. She wouldn't have done that"

"Even with this last trip off the wagon, Elizabeth never once killed someone while feeding." He shook his head slightly. "That kind of blood lust always scared her. She has always been afraid of loosing that much control where she killed several people."

"What changed?" Jess asked. "She still has her humanity so she should care about these people that she is killing."

"That is what I don't get." Malakai said standing from his seat. "She hasn't shut off her humanity, she is still herself when she doesn't go into her weird silent mood thing she has been doing lately. But at the same time, she is feeding as if she doesn't have her humanity and at times she acts like she doesn't give a damn about anyone, even us. There was even a moment when she didn't give a damn that I was almost shot in the chest with an arrow. I don't know how to get through to her to see what is wrong with her."

Jess shook her head. "I'm sure its just the feeling of having the weight of the world on her shoulders. Eventually she will snap out of it."

Malakai sighed and looked up at the ceiling and thought for a moment. "You know she hasn't said his name since we caught up to her."

"You're kidding." Jess said shocked.

"Those cures were the most important things to her and getting Elijah back was her main priority. And she hasn't mentioned his name or even the fact that we spent a year trying to get packs to help us to only fail. I figured she would have been saying that we are on to the next plan or that now that we were back, or that she was going to go and see him. But instead, she just closed herself off in her room. Its so unlike her."

"Maybe Veronica is having some kind of luck with her. She has been up there for some time." Jess said hoping that Veronica had gotten through to Elizabeth.

They sat in silence after that. There was nothing that needed to be said. It now was just a waiting for either Veronica to come back down and give some details as to what happened, or that Elizabeth would be back down after spilling everything out to Veronica and feel a lot better. They hoped that Elizabeth would be a lot better than she had been. While Jess hadn't been with them for that year, hearing all of this had been enough to make her worried for Elizabeth.

Hearing footsteps, they both turned to see Veronica walking towards them. Worry had been written all over her face and as she entered the room, she looked to Malakai right away. "Its not good Kai." She said shaking her head.

"What happened?" Malakai asked.

"They were working with witches. " Veronica said sighing. "While she was gone, a witch had caught up with her long enough to give her a taste of her magic. And it left a very bad taste in Elizabeth's mind."

"What did she use?" Jess asked worried.

"A spell that can make anyone believe their worst fear has happened." Veronica said with a worried look.

"What was hers?" Malakai asked.

"Do you really have to ask that?" Veronica questioned. It took a moment before Malakai realized what it was. "When she snapped out of that weird staring thing that she does, I asked her a few questions about our time away. She believes we were out there getting the cure as a future precaution not as a way to correct the past."

Hello? Hayley's voice came from the other side of the line.

"May I please speak to that adorable little girl of yours?" Malakai asked as he held the phone to his ear.

Is everything okay, Kai? Hayley had been able to pick up the worry in his voice even though he had tried his hardest to make it seem like everything was okay.

"We may have a slight set back, but Hope is the only one that can get the message I need sent." He said as he looked up towards Elizabeth's room.

And who exactly is she sending this message to?

"One of the psychopaths down the street." He said sarcastically. "Come on Hayley, it's for Freya and Elijah.

Hayley sighed. Okay hold on. A moment later Hope was on the phone.

Hi Kai! She said with excitement. It had been a year since the two had talked.

"Hello Hope. I need you to do me a favor and give your Uncle Elijah a message for me, can you do that?"

I can. What is the message?

Malakai sighed and thought of exactly how he wanted this message to be said. "Now, before I say what the message is you can't tell your mom because she will worry, got it."

Got it.

Hope ran through the field as fast as her feet could carry her. She was determined to find Elijah as fast as she could to deliver the message that Malakai had told her was of great importance. When she reached the steps to the porch, Freya had met her outside sensing that she was there. When she seen that Hope was all out of breath, she became worried.

"What is it?" Freya asked opening the door and letting Hope inside.

"Where is Uncle Elijah?" She asked as she tried catching her breath. Freya looked towards the kitchen and a moment later Elijah was walking towards them.

"What's wrong?" He asked looking at Hope.

"I have a message for you from Kai." She said looking up at him.

Freya and Elijah looked at each other for a moment. A flicker of worry flashed over their faces before Elijah looked back over to Hope. He took a few more steps towards her and knelt down in front of her. "What is this message?"

"Aunt Liz is home." She said with a small smile. Elijah raised an eyebrow. As much as it was good to know that Elizabeth was finally back, he didn't think it was necessary for Malakai to send Hope to tell him.

"Is that all of the message?" He asked.

Hope shook her head. "No. He said when Aunt Liz was out of town, she made a pack of wolves and a witch very angry. The witch made Aunt Liz believe something really really bad happened."

Elijah was even more worried now. "Did Malakai say what it was that she believes?"

Hope nodded and frowned. She didn't like this part of the message. Even though she didn't like that a witch had put a spell on Elizabeth, Hope thought telling this to Elijah would make him upset. But Malakai had told her it was important to tell Elijah even though it was a really bad thing. "She believes you died. She thinks she killed you."

[shinee-freefalling]

BTS World Tour: Love Yourself - fan account

I saw BTS perform at the O2 arena in London on Tuesday 9th October 2018, and it was simply amazing. I’ll do my best to tell you all about it.

Before the show (the boring bit in which I try not to misrepresent the realities of the standing experience - potentially useful if you’ll be attending a show with standing tickets)

The truth is that the day of the show… had its challenges. My group of friends and I had standing tickets and we chose to commit ourselves to getting to the O2 by 5 am (which involved waking up at 2.30 am lol - it was like getting up to go to the airport) to be in with a chance of being somewhere near the front of the pit. Queuing had its ups and downs (trying to avoid giving too much detail on this as I don’t want to give room for negativity), but ultimately, for me, a lot of excitement built up and it was an opportunity to practise our fan chants, even if it was a pretty tiring experience.

Once the doors opened at 5 pm and we were admitted into the arena, we were over the moon at managing to get a spot in the fourth row from the front, right near the middle stage (diamond-shaped), which is pretty much exactly where we’d hoped to end up. Unfortunately, although perhaps inevitably, it did later become clear that there was going to be a lot of pushing from the back of the pit. One of my friends sadly got completely separated from the rest of us for the duration of the concert, ending up in about the tenth row back. The rest of us got separated from one another too, though we were lucky enough to be able to somewhat maintain our position nearer the front.

I’ve got to admit that in spite of the level of pushing (and, at times, elbowing) that occurred, there maybe actually was something to be gained from the intensity and vigour of the crowd. It was at least made clear that Bangtan are incredibly loved, that all of UK ARMY want to be close with them, and there was something unifying in that.

Showtime

I’ve wasted time making excuses when all I really want to say is that I had the best time of my life and loved every second of the concert from the moment it started to the moment BTS left the stage.

I’d seen Bangtan before (at KCON Paris in 2016), but had kinda forgotten what it’s like to be there in the same room with them, to look at them and see them with your own two eyes, no cameras or computer screens intervening. As one of my friends said to me on the tube home, they look exactly as they do in their pictures and videos, completely beautiful, but the difference is that they became real. All of that masculinity, attitude and (forgive me) sex appeal that gets dampened by the process of recording and broadcasting became tangible, and it was kinda electrifying.

Songs (with commentary)

The setlist for the night was setlist B, so the songs were:

Idol (The first song!!!! They launched straight into it and did their introductions afterwards.)

Save Me (It became apparent that people really know the words of their songs, and there was even fan chanting going on, not even just singing along. It was so fun to be part of the ARMY ocean with everybody. Namjoon’s part was super popular.)

I’m Fine (I was NOT fine.)

Magic Shop (JK introduced his song for ARMY, giving me the chance to tell BTS that I promise to give me the best of me. Thank you BTS. Such a beautiful moment of my life.)

Trivia: Just Dance (Solo stages!!!! And Hobi, you sexy. How can you go from ‘I’m your hope, you’re my hope’ to this??? That elevated stage dance though - you must’ve been scared… and you didn’t lose your footing or get out of breathe? Wizard)

Euphoria (JK sang from his chair, which probably killed him inside but it was just very moving and somehow didn’t detract from the performance at all, such is the level of his vocals. Being with JK together in that song, well, for me, it was utopia.)

I Need U (I think this is when I almost fainted lol)

Run (Yeah still fainting - oh dear)

Serendipity (‘GEUNYANG GEUNYANG!!!!!’ HOLY SHIT JIMINNNNNNNNN. He freakin played us ALL. Like I was never a fan of excessive floor humping dance moves until this day. Now I am, like 3000% a fan.)

Trivia: Love (So this is one of my favourite of their new songs and I’d heard it wasn’t that popular in concert but our crowd went wild for it. We were all right there with the PQRST, it was mad. I hope Namjoon felt our love.)

DNA (Yoongi’s part and then V’s made us lose our shit.)

Boyz with Fun (Medley time! And I mean, who can resist a bit of ‘heungtan sonyeondan’? Such a lovely throwback to Paris, I was filled with memories of me and my bestie. Love this song so much because of that.)

Attack on Bangtan (A lot of water was being handed out at this point to keep us hydrated. My memories are blurry.)

Fire (They didn’t do the choreo until 3.33, then they hella did the choreo.)

Silver Spoon (THEY DID BAEPSAE!!! Weren’t we lucky?! Namjoon came right up to the edge of the stage and attacked with some… select parts of the choreo 😂 - I was LIVING.)

Dope (This was so clearly an audience favourite. I think maybe because a lot of people got into Bangtan for the first time because of this song? At least that was the case for me. ‘Eoseo wa bangtaneun cheoeumiji?’ NEEEEEEE)

Airplane Pt. 2 (Finally, BTS can say ‘London to Paris’ and really mean it. JK sitting in his chair actually worked well for this one, he did a lot of upper body wiggling and it was great.)

Singularity (V was a solo artist with this - unreal levels of artistry, individuality and professionalism.)

Fake Love (I had the realisation that this is like my favourite BTS stage ever. The choreo in real life was just mind-blowing, the movements were so unbelievable and fluid. It was only just really sad that Jungkookie couldn’t be a part of it, I’m sure he wanted to. The fan chants were mad with this one btw - I think there are ‘FAKE LOVE’-shaped holes in my eardrums.)

Trivia: Seesaw (Aren’t we all Yoongi stans when this song plays? That voice was pure velvet. Yoongi, we all know it now - you can really sing.)

Epiphany (Okay, I’ll admit something I’m slightly ashamed of, which is that i didn’t known Jin could be this good. And I feel bad for not expecting it to the extent I did, but he ruled the stage so hard, it was beyond expectation, definitely one of the best stages of the night. Madhyung’s voice was so strong and beautiful. What a singer.)

The Truth Untold (There was a moment of such utterly perfect harmony between JiKook, the crowd loved it.)

Outro: Tear (Yoongi loves his job, he was just so very clearly so happy to be there and was loving every second of it. The amount of stage presence and… sheer happiness that radiated rom him, it was so so lovely to see.)

Mic Drop (This was mad, we were singing along like it was the last thing we’d do, even the raps, even though it was the Korean version. And freakin ‘mic mic bungee’ was everything.)

Part of me had hoped for setlist C as Boy in Luv is one of my favourites, and there was a moment when Jimin (or was it V?) said ‘make some noise’ in the exact same way that I’ve seen them sometimes doing right before launching into ‘doegopa / neoui oppa,’ and so my heart completely leapt out of my chest. But honestly, no regrets. All the setlists are amazing and I feel SO lucky to have seen Baepsae!!

For the encore, we had the standard:

So What (‘I don’t wanna die right now, I don’t wanna fight right now, I don’t like worries, Life is long… I wanna live right now’ - thank you Namjoon 💖.)

Anpanman (Of course the crowd loved it, though I found out after the show that Jungkook apparently broke down in tears at this point. He must have been so frustrated not to be able to give it his all. ☹️)

Answer: Love Myself (‘You’ve shown me, I have reasons, I should love myself’ - the perfect ending, resolution.)

Jimin

Jimin, my bias. Thank you, Jimin. He spent so much time on our part of the stage, I was immensely grateful, especially as I’d been sad that he hadn’t seemed to come over to our part of the stage so much in Paris. Beautiful, blonde, with a such a pretty tummy (we saw flashes during Baepsae). Charismatic but rude, he was giving all kinds of eye contact to the crowd, so much fan service, in fact they all made a point of doing this and it was so kind, the way they made sure to make us feel seen and heard. Though their gazes (mostly) weren’t soft at all, so hard and piercing. I feel blessed but also somehow humiliated by having been present in their line of sight.

Jimin maintained a cool facade for much of the concert (I mean, he is the coolest after all), but occasionally that true, sweet smile would break through (like at the end of Serendipity, probs cause he knew we needed something to recover) or when speaking to the members (playing with / comforting Jungkook, bothering Namjoon).

Not meaning to be rude or anything, because it’s something I totally love about him, but Jimin is massively attention hogging on stage and you can totally see why the other members like to (semi-pretend) complain about him, yet admire him so much for his stage presence and performance ability. He was always present just seemingly everywhere on stage, and so commanding. Born to perform, I swear. And stealing everyone else’s moments too, especially Namjoon, whose choreographed high kicks he matched at one point, before adding one extra (extra high) kick of his own, then going on to pinch Namjoon’s cheeks and poke his dimples during Namjoon’s ment. At one point, he came up behind Namjoon so suddenly that Namjoon didn’t know he was there and accidentally hit him in the face. Jimin pretended to be stunned and touched his face as if to confirm it had happened before moving on - it was just so cuteee. 

Ending ments

BTS closed the show with their ending ments. The members taking the time to speak to us as individuals and at length was so special, it was maybe even my favourite part of the whole entire thing. To be able to experience Bangtan live, member by member, just as we know them to be, just as they are… it was just so special.

Something I haven’t mentioned yet (although I’m sure anybody reading this who cares to know will already know) is that Jungkook was injured. We got an announcement at about ten minutes before the concert was due to start explaining that Jungkook had collided with furniture while doing some light stretches not two hours before the show started, and so although it wasn’t a serious injury, he had been told that it would be against medical advice to perform choreography that night. Throughout the concert, he was therefore sat in a chair and not able to participate in the dances or come to the front of the stage. During his ending ment, Jungkookie explained (through the translator) that he had originally prepared something to say in English but chose to speak in Korean so that he could speak to us sincerely from his heart. He apologised for not being able to perform and promised that now he had experienced it, being here with us, he would make sure that it never happened again. Of course, we shouted that it wasn’t his fault, which Namjoon also told him (‘Jungkook, it’s not your fault,’ clear and simple), and we shouted that we loved him. A chant of Jeon Jungkook broke out and Jungkook just bent over with head down so that all we could see was the back of his neck growing red as he cried. Jimin in his ment teased that Jungkook would go back and cry all night after this, and counted us in to ‘tell Jungkook you love him.’ I’m sad he cried but I’m glad we managed to show him how much we love him, that our words reached him. In spite of being injured, Jungkookie was clearly just so done with sitting by the end and did get up and walk around a bit at the front of the stage to try and properly say goodbye (this was during Answer: Love Myself, I think). Jungkookie, I hope you won’t be hurt for long and that you will be back to doing what you love in no time. Get better soon and thank you for everything.

Jungkookie wasn’t the only member to cry. I’m pretty sure Jin and V also teared up at the end. So you know, they were feeling it too. And Jimin’s ment had me crying also, I literally took one look at him as his turn came to speak and started bawling. It was quite embarrassing having to shout ‘we love you’ and ‘you’re my hero’ with a voice full of tears but I did it anyway and I hope he realised how much we love him.

BTS in London

I never expected that they’d come here until they did. I didn’t think we’d be able to get tickets until we did. Namjoon said that London is a place they’ve always wanted to come to. Jimin said that it was his first time in London. Namjoon promised that they will come back next year, which was just the most wonderful thing to hear. Jimin said they were supposed to come last year but couldn’t. Someone, maybe Yoongi or maybe V, said that London was a beautiful place, but we (ARMY) were the most beautiful thing about it. It was definitely Yoongi who said, in classic Yoongi style, that they would need a bigger stadium next time. What a total burn to the O2 arena, clearly not big enough to accommodate the size of Yoongi’s ambition. 😂

Overall

Bangtan’s is a position of immense privilege, but they hold it with such grace. They demonstrate such professionalism and kindness, yet at the same time are goddam sexy and frankly brutal in their stage personas. I am so grateful to know them and to be their fan. We were so lucky to get tickets to see their show, to get the chance to say thank you and show them our love. Bangtan, you’re my inspiration; Jimin, you’re my hero. When I need to love myself, you take me there and show me how. When I need to work on myself, you show me how to do that too. Thank you for being together with me always in your music, and making an ‘us’ together with ARMY: ‘Thank you, uri ga dwae jwoseo.’

Moments

Yoongi sprayed water on us first, and rather aggressively too. Then J-Hope did it too. Thank you for showering me (with your love). 😂

Jimin pushed back V’s hair back when he was wearing his bandana during the encore. So cuteee

Jimin took out Jungkook’s earpiece and whispered into his ear, saying something that caused him to smile.

Taehyung did finger guns with that classic boxy smile face right near us - it’s seared into my memory.