#sorry this sounds like i should have posted it in 2015 because by now the whole point of this post is obvious to everybody

[lifesliced]

nonverbal prompts. accepting !! // * @maljefe

[  duel  ]  muses get into a fight (josh and loni, post!verse)

the recovery process isn't easy. it might even be forever. until now, he's been mostly isolated, working under various aliases and through a myriad of therapists.

still, his story is never quite straight, at least not the ending. how did you get out of the mines, joshua?

and he would answer something new each time. every single detail is relatively sound up til that point, when stripped through a layer of his vision to the fact and truths of the matter, when compiled next to the varying stories of his former friends.

how did you get out of the mines, joshua?

it was hannah, he would sometimes say. it was my sister, he would insist. i don't know, he would claim often. it was a man ... he found me ... reached out to me, he would insist. it was my friend, he would murmur. i don't know, he would say again. i don't know.

it had taken josh ten months to reach out to matt first. three more after to call mike. another two to reach out to jess, then emily. finally ashley. his shoulder throbs. damn. it was six after her that he finally called sam. then chris. bro ... i ...

deadlines and his tiered list of forgiveness are the only ways he seems to be able to tell time anymore. time. it doesn't mean anything, not after what he's seen; not after what i've done.

and yet, somewhere between all of that, there was loni.

of all of them, she was technically the most innocent, absolved entirely of any responsibility for what happened to hannah and beth. in a way, she was sort of like an extra in the film.

he doesn't say that. it would sound bad, worse than it already is.

i never meant for it to go that far. i just wanted to ... i wanted to scare them ... i wanted to ... it doesn't matter.

he doesn't say that, either. instead, he stares at her over coffee in a dimly lit little cafe that stays open 24/7 just two blocks around the corner from his latest apartment complex. through an awkward set of text messages, he agreed to meet her face-to-face.

this is the kind of thing you do person. there's just no other way around it.

his cup remains unmoved, staying as still as he does. nervously, josh swallows, goes to open his mouth, and shuts it just as quickly. they haven't actually talked since that cold february of 2015. save the date.

❝ uh … ❞ josh feels so small, so stupid right now, and so utterly paranoid. everyone is watching me, he thinks. i can feel them. attempting to self-soothe, he exhales, reminding himself that direct eye contact is necessary. she needs to know he sees her. ❝ look, i was going to reach out — ❞

and that's enough for her. that's all she needs to ask him her first question: why? why did he do it? what had she done to him that was so bad that he had to get her involved?

when he opens his mouth to try and explain — to tell her he's sorry — it's her voice that comes from his lips, not his own. her restraint is something to be admired.

because nothing he says will be enough, and he knows that. so ... should he try to argue? concede and fold? what's the right thing to do here? what do i do?

❝ i know you're angry with me, and you .... you have every right to be, ❞ he begins tentatively, ❝ and i should have reached out sooner, but i just ... it wasn't ... it wasn't the right time. ❞

he's stuck looking stupid, mouth open as he seeks any words that can act as a magic fix.

there is no magic fix. you did this. you did this to her, to them ... to all of them. in the end, isn't what happened to your sisters your fault? you should have been watching them. instead, you blamed everyone else.

❝ i'm sorry, ❞ he tries, ❝ i'm really, really sorry. ❞

[constantfragmentation]

hey, just came here to tell you that i'm so so relieved that i was able to find your blog again !! and your jane eyre au fanfic with silco !! honestly, 'bend but not break' was (and still pretty much is) one of my favourite fanfics ever; not aus or silco fanfics, i mean one of THE best fanfics i've ever read. cannot even begin to describe how sad i was when i lost the ao3 link, and when i wasn't able to remember your blog's url.

and it was a shame, because BBNB was just *chef's kiss* 🤌. i literally stayed awake until sunrise reading it the first time, already getting inpatient for the next chapter. and i think it's mainly because you capture silco so so well, and you get 'jane eyre'; and you capture the dreadful air of the novel, and those little acts of tenderness and romance... and your smut it's quite great too. like, i still can't get over The Opera chapter, even after all this time 👀👀

still, now that i did find you, i'm not only gonna read that one, but i'm gonna get started on all your other works !! i know i'm getting repetitive but i just don't know how to express just how great i think your writing is. so for now, i just hope you get to read this !!

hope i didn't weird you out or anything !! please, have a great day, and stay safe <33

p.s.: i'm gonna read bbnb rn, until sunrise if necessary, just like in the good old days !! so if you hear someone's heart breaking, it might be mine !!

Omg?! Thank you! No, you are not weirding me out in any way.

I am so very humbled. You have no idea. I'm still learning as a writer, and I am my own worst critic.

I'm sorry I haven't been online to respond to this earlier because I've been really sick with the flu and binge watching Poldark (again).

I've been technically writing fiction since 2015 and it's been a learning curve with each story. For some odd reason, historical eras seem to fit my style in writing. I can do modern but this era I feel like I can sink my teeth into it.

I'm a huge fan of gothic horror/suspense/romance. So, yeah, I guess you can see that in the choices I make.

I must admit I'm not all together happy with the last chapter of BBNB, I might want to change some things in that chapter before moving on (maybe because it might meld into the next chapter better? idk).

Even though I have approximately 5-6 chapters (depending on how big the chapters get, I'm terrible about posting novel-length chapters) left in Bend, it should be an emotional rollercoaster. There are soooo many things I have left to run with before it ends.

As of the lastest chapter, I'm deviating from Jane Eyre a bit, while still holding onto certain plot-points for context but I want to play more with the Regency Arcane/Silco's world.

I do have other ideas for Silco stories I want to write. One will deal with a younger, hot-head SIlco. Another I'm tempted to play with a Roaring 20's Underground.

Then I have a story that I'm developing into an original gothic novel. I have maybe too much on my plate. LOL

It's moments like this when I wish I didn't have to 'work' a regular job to pay the bills because I would literally write all day, every day.

I can't tell you how much I appreciate you sending me this. It really does brighten my day. That may sound cliche, but it does. I admit I don't have the greatest self-esteem, but I'm working on it.

That someone likes something I've written that much to comment at all and tell me they're re-reading it... my heart is going to explode.

I am working on both Regency Silco stories. When my head doesn't feel like a fog-horn inside of a 100lb bowling ball, I should be in a better space to be creative. It's zapped when you feel exhausted. Working 60hr weeks lately probably hasn't helped my health any.

Thank you again sooooo much for this. Never feel like you're bothering me or weirding me out. I love and embrace all comments, good or critical.

[sunburnacoustic]

HI MUSE ASKS

2, 11, 14, 32, 36 (I love this question), 45, 51, 59!!

sorry it’s a lot but I’m also not sorry

Hi hi hi @goosetown5! Thanks so much the ask 😊Don't be sorry at all, I'm so pleased to chat to you about Muse!

2. What's a Muse song that sounds better live than in the studio?

Without a doubt, Verona, that's the first song that comes to my mind! I had the pleasure of seeing it live, it's a literal religious experience. Matt lost in the sauce, eyes closed, playing guitar on the verses. My gig had a really good crowd too, so in my mind, I'll always remember Verona now with the chorus of fans singing, "I neeeeed you sooo" in a slight French accent, the reverb around the stadium on Matt's guitar and just how much bigger the song sounds live: you can feel the drums under your skin, in your chest, in your bones. Confetti blasted out into the air just after Matt belts the chorus, blue light lights up the stadium, hands are in the air, ugh. Beautiful. It's an experience just listening to the song in normal everyday life can't recreate. It's a great song otherwise, lyrically it's my favourite on the album, but holy shit you can't return to the studio version after the experience of seeing it live :) I need to experience this song again!

Eyes closed, just lost in the sauce guitar line.

EDIT: My pictures don't half do this moment justice, so enjoy these pics from @prttyinpvnk!

Pretty special, eh?

11. Favourite song that's never been played live?

Falling Away With You. I love that song so much, the way it transitions between the verses and the choruses, such agitation on that chorus, the change from a major -> minor feel, the synths, the lyrics; oh, rip my heart out! I'll never understand why Muse have never played it live. I guess, technically the did almost play it... that one time at an iHeart Radio gig or festival or something in 2018 that Matt began playing its intro on the acoustic guitar and then went "nah, just kidding" and began playing Something Human. Matt why would you toy with our hearts like that </3 They've teased it a few times before.

Map Of Your Head is another. Muse can write such addictive pop songs! (I would also want to say Falling With The Crowd because that's an old one from one of those demos that we have no live footage/audio of, but it was supposedly played regularly in 1997. It's quite fully formed for a song of that era, it's a proper song with verse-chorus-bridge-outro, and I think it's a tune. The problem is, it wasn't played at the one and only 1997 gig we have audio of*, Plymouth's Soundwaves Festival, that was taped by a friend of Muse's off a radio live broadcast locally in Plymouth. And there are no known setlists on which it appears, so has it ever been played live? Who knows.)

*Update, nevermind I found out we have a tiny clip of video footage by someone who saw Muse at a different gig in 1997! It's 50 seconds long, the videotaper seems to have been keener on recording Dom, and it's of the song Boredom. No mention of Falling With The Crowd on the set though. Still, what a treat, it's from so long ago, Matt wasn't nearly the performer he would shortly become. I'll make a different post about that though, so that I actually answer your ask here!

14. Favourite live riff/jam/intro/outro?

I love this question because I've been thinking about it recently! 😊

The improvised, extended Jimmy Jam riff at Wembley before Time Is Running Out. What annoyed me for years is that they split up the clip on the Muse Youtube in ~2015 to separately have the Jimmy Jam riff as one video and TIRO as another, and they fade Jimmy Jam out and that got stuck in my head without the ending. I should make a proper edit of it from HAARP because that jam is my jam, I love it!

Also, how it ends is so cool:

A second favourite is the outro to Assassin played at the Mayan Theatre in 2015 (Theater?), it's so fuzzy it's so filthy, it's so heavy I could listen to it all day. Drones was a good era for Muse's slow-heavy/chugging stuff that The Handler kicked off. I don't know the name of this riff, but it's so good.

And I must mention the riff played during the French 1999 Olaive interview, where the interviewers asked Matt questions and he had to reply by largely playing his guitar, an acoustic, and it was so beautiful despite Matt being really young and nervous, that one of the interviewers told him at the end of the interview that there was magic in his guitar (how poetic the French were, but he's right!). I'm not cheating on this question though, it is a legitimate intro because they brought it back years later and opened Unintended at Wembley with this piece, but transposed higher. It's a classical guitar etude by Cuban composer Leo Brouwer.

(And of course, some classics - Helsinki/Glasgow jam -> bringing bagpipes to a stadium rock gig and then playing Muse fuzzy bluesy hard rock under it is something I admire so fucking much)

32. Have you ever followed Matt's advice to not give a fuck if people think you're a pretentious wanker?

Yes, definitely, and the realisation came for me more from an off-stage moment rather than one on stage, because I guess in some ways you personally can write off on-stage ambition and personas as just something that's easier to do on stage, a place for theatre, but the fact that Matt just lives his life without shame, without feeling self-conscious, without giving a fuck what anyone else may think— I'm learning that from him, and it significantly came from this moment back in 2014:

He's out there living his best life, unbothered. He's knows not to care what anyone else thinks of him (and my respect for him just skyrocketed after this). That made it click for me, just don't give a fuck, don't care if anyone thinks you're a pretentious wanker, cut all the hangups in life—don't be afraid to be yourself! I've kept that in mind since 😊

36. Favourite song to sing along to.

Hm, I suppose it depends on the setting! In a stadium, hanging onto people, bouncing around, headbanging, screaming together "No one's gonna take me alive..." is a life-affirming experience!

Otherwise at home, on your own, a really satisfying vocal part to sing... I'd say a lot of Matt's falsetto bits are so much fun to try and do because you can lose your head and turn into an absolute diva for 20 seconds, I highly recommend trying it with no shame (refer to Q. 32!) And have I tried Micro Cuts out loud? Yeah, while fearing for my life I have lmao. Don't need neighbours calling the paramedics on me! Supermassive Black Hole is fun to try and sing along to (multiple parts). I Belong To You is nice. Showbiz is fun. Undisclosed Desires is another, Screenager too. Dead Inside is so good to sing along to! (and we haven't even got into singing riffs live, something Matt noted Muse fans do a lot live :D)

You're so right, I love this question too!  😊 (Side fun fact, a singer friend of mine told me that Time Is Running Out sung properly is actually quite technically difficulut— it's an acceptable Grade 5 piece to perform on Trinity College vocal exams (the rockschool ones))

45. Tell me a little-known fact about Muse

Oh, yes please! (not the song :P) I've been hoping someone would ask this one :)

Here's one I've decided on at random: Muse played a gig away in North Devon on Matt's 17th birthday. Someone found a poster for the gig years later in like 2008, look at how Muse sometimes stylised their name—quite psychedelic! This was on 9 June 1995, in Torrington.

51. Dom - bleach blond era, 90s slacker-band, wraparound shades era, surfer dude era, Drones black hair era, 2022 'pornstache' baby blue hair era, or 2006 aviators era?

Do you know what, I'm partial to aviators Dom. I'm so fucking partial to aviators Dom. But I think we all know which picture from Dom's Instagram I had in mind when I typed up "surfer dude-era Dom", don't we?

59. Favourite Muse accessory? (Matt's OOS era thick necklace, the guitar-pick necklace, any rings, etc.)

Very partial to the pick-necklace! Independently of Matt, I'd been doing it myself for years, so I was delighted to find that Matt had a pick necklace phase too (except mine is very DIY: it's a pick held together to a chain with paperclips lmao. I haven't lost the pick in 7 years so clearly it works... happy to show pictures of it if you like!)

Matt's 2006-era braces are a top notch accessory too, that was a really good look! I picked up a fondness of scarves from him too, which was also mostly BHAR-era photoshoots as well. Glitter in Matt's hair, A+ accessory; love it.

That time someone stuck a star on Matt's forehead

And of course, Matt's sunglasses. I wouldn't be the "Matt wearing his sunglasses on his head like my mum" blog if I didn't mention that.

(^3 pairs! of sunglasses!)

(This got quite Matt-heavy, didn't it? I love Dom's ever-expanding shades of trousers too! Orange is the latest one the WOTP tour has blessed us with :) Not really an accessory though, is it? Otherwise I'd be able to openly drool over Matt's cool jackets.)

[freebooter4ever]

Hello! Another random anonymous but I kept seeing you’re posts about some relationship relating things and saw the negative stuff you’ve said about yourself. Even if they might be teasing jokes about yourself, you might not realize this (and not in a creepy way 😅) but you really are wonderful! I love seeing your posts and you’re personality!

You’re super pretty too! This might sound really random and weird (and I’m honestly probably not getting the right context of anything because I’m sort of confuse about the topic since English isn’t my first language and the events are hard to catch up with) but my grandma has found love when she was in her 50s and has lived a nice life.

I know your situation differ from hers but have faith in yourself. Nothing is wrong with you at all, it just takes time to find the person right for you and when you do, you’ll find someone who deserves you and you deserve them, if you wish to find someone to love of course. But try to remember that you should try and have some more love for yourself, no matter how tough it can get.

Just know that there are people out there and no doubt people waiting to meet you and love you. Haha sorry if this all sounds super weird and awkward, it’s just how the people of my culture see things. There’s always that one person out there who loves you and is waiting to love you 😊

Hi there! Not annoying at all, my entire blog could probably be classified as annoying, this is most definitely not a curated space :). I waited to respond to this cause i wasn't sure how.

First, im really sorry, i should probably tag my insecurity posts with trigger warnings, i know it can be...a bit much. and can hurt other people who read it. The good news is the insecurities usually only happen when im dating and i like...never...date. So as soon as i find a job i will happily go back to 'im too busy to date', and i can shove the insecurity back under the self hating rug. Its like a hornets nest - its only if you poke the nest that you get stung and i keep poking the nest lately.

Second, I apologize if i generalized too much, i am trying to be more aware of myself doing that. There's lots of examples of friends with good long relationships in my life - the friend whose wedding i'm going to has been with her husband for ten years, my other childhood bff has been with her partner for 11, and jelly bean and her husband have been married since 2015 and dating since college (lord we are old). And of the celebrity couples i kinda idolize, im pretty sure only steve ao*ki and recently rami (lol good for him) are the ones with break ups. (i have been REALLY entertained by the sheer sudden volume increase in thirst traps on steve's insta starting around the time nicole got cozy with this new guy and deleted her loving tributes to steve off her account - dont get me wrong i fully appreciate the photos and selfies, enjoying every minute of it but yeah he must be single right now LOL i would feel more bad for him if he hadnt been the one doing the dumping)(it must be hard dating with his insanely fast paced lifestyle though, i dont envy him :( ). So its absolutely a 'me' problem.

My only experiences dating over the years have taught me that i dont have much to offer that someone cant get through friendship (or friends with benefits) - entertaining and fun to hang out with but not pretty enough (or good in bed enough LOL) to be actually worthwhile. At this point its kind of a joke; "its saturday night, why are you calling me, dont you have somewhere to be?" "no, of course not, i was wondering if i could come hang out with your dog"

Thanks for trying to cheer me up? :) i'm sorry i'm an insecure mess!

[piqued-curiosity]

i don't mean to vent, but that ward post you reblogged struck a chord with me.

i practically grew up in therapy and psych wards. i spent half the year at age 11-12 in them, or being told i'd be sent in between visits. i was always in therapy.

once, at a facility where i had to stay for a month (not a ward but it still dealt with mental health), it wasn't a tim that came over but a tif. this was 2015 and it was still female only, thank god. but she kept talking about trans things. surgeries. sexual topics. "this surgery could give transguys a working penis", "it can cum", etcetera.

i was dissociative and very much not stable, and i was also a child, i was upset that day because someone i'd kinda gotten close to had attmepted, and my brain is being filled with nonsense and talks of sex.

even in 2015 no one corrected her. even in 2015 she still looked and sounded very much like a girl, pre-transition (not that it would've changed her sex, just adds to it), and the entire room of girls aged 11-17 were still expected to act like this was okay. that this was natural, true, you have it. it was bad then but good god has it gotten worse.

i haven't been warded with a tim but i've been warded with grown men. i was terrified. being expected to deny reality and be medicated if you speak against it? horrifying and it makes me viscerally ill.

First of all, I’m so sorry you had to experience that. Both being in psych wards and having this to deal with on top of that. I really hope you’re either better now, or on the path to recovery! 💕💕

I hate to think of how uncomfortable and harmful that kind of talk would be for girls trying to recover from mental illness. Especially when so many trans people talk about this stuff like it’s a magical fix for mental health issues. I don’t understand why it’s so hard for them to just…not be so self-centred. Not everything is about you and your fantasies.

And as that post said, on the worker’s parts, it’s disgusting to see vulnerable people who are relying on you for guidance and stability…and lie to them about life’s most basic facts. It’s disgusting to expect them to waste energy trying to play along instead of putting that energy towards getting better. Because playing along does take a lot of mental energy, it’s constantly denying what you see in front of you and lying to yourself. That’s not something that should be pushed onto or expected of anyone, but especially people struggling with mental illness.

[ai-thne]

can't believe someone still has to say this but if you, a cis straight girl, fancy yourself for having so many friends who are gay men, but think that that makes you entitled to say the f slur and act weird around my partner and i (lesbians) when we're there talking to our mutual friend, you're a bigot in rainbow clothes.

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

[organabanana]

What spring does to cherry trees || Supercorp

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor

Additional Tags: mostly fluff, with some porn for flair, pre-canon, but also, post-canon, tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees. What does that even mean? It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained. No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak. Kara doesn't like poetry. Until she does.

Notes: Written for a very patient anon who prompted me with “Seeing the cherry blossoms in Washington DC” but I got sidetracked by Neruda and my favorite of his poems and it turned into This.  It's poem number fourteen, found in "Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada" (Twenty love poems and a song of despair) by Pablo Neruda, which you can read here (Spanish) or here (English). I mostly translated the lines I needed myself, so I can't guarantee they'll match the official translation (I'm also not sure there is such a thing as an official translation, so there's that). With special thanks to the most patient anon in history for the prompt, to @lavenderrry for praising my vibes, and to @emiltons for the gorgeous graphic.

[ao3 link]

The first time Kara encounters Neruda's poetry she's nineteen and bored. In her defense, she thought taking a poetry class would make her feel sophisticated and cultured, but all she feels is annoyed at the insistence of using language to obscure your message rather than share it.

And yes, yes, she gets it. It all sounds very pretty and evocative. It's just Kara has been hiding her true self in plain sight for the last six years, and she can't understand why anyone would willingly and needlessly do that to themselves. To their feelings. She may never have been in love, but Kara is pretty sure if she ever is -- if her heart ever feels full to the brim with the kind of big feelings her professor keeps making them read in metaphors and symbolism -- she'll want to make them clear as day.

I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees.

What does that even mean?

It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained.

No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak.

***

Kara doesn't take any more poetry classes, and she doesn't think of Neruda (or any other poet, for that matter) for years. She has so many other things to think about. She moves to National City and starts working for Ms. Grant. She grows into herself, she thinks. She becomes Supergirl and feels more like herself than she has since her pod left Krypton. She dates, a little bit. Dips her toe in the dating pool, if you will. She meets Lena Luthor.

And that's the second time she runs into Neruda. Right there on a shelf in Lena's living room, on a book that looks well loved and well read, spine full of small cracks and lines from being opened over and over again. Kara has always thought you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their shelves.  

"Pablo Neruda," Kara says, one finger tracing a line down the spine of the book like she's trying to read something in the pattern of the cracks, "I didn't know you liked poetry."

"I don't dislike it." Lena's heels click-clack on the hardwood floor before she sets the bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table and sits on the couch. "Have you made up your mind on what we're going to watch?"

Kara can hear the faint electrical hum of the TV being turned on, but she's a bit too distracted by the book to focus on deciding whether tonight is a night for a romantic comedy or an epic drama. She couldn't say exactly why this book feels important. It just does. Maybe it's because Lena keeps so much of herself hidden somewhere not even Kara's X-Ray vision can reach, and finding little clues about her thoughts and feelings feels a lot like she's struck gold.

Yeah. Maybe that's why.

Her fascination with the book only grows when she pulls it out of the shelf only to find the title written in Spanish. "Veinte poemas de amor--"

"And a song of despair," Lena finishes in English. "Atonement? I've heard good things about it."

"No way. I said I could be persuaded to watch a tear jerker, but I did not sign up for actual depression." Kara brings the book along when she walks over to sit down next to Lena. She's so focused on the book, still, that she miscalculates her landing just by an inch or so and her thigh bumps against Lena's as she settles on the couch. But Lena doesn't move away, and Kara figures there's no reason why she should. They're friends, after all. Close friends. Figuratively and now very, very literally close.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish." Kara speaks again, breaking the silence before it solidifies into something potentially awkward.

"I don't. It's a bilingual edition. Can we please pick a movie?"

Kara would love to do exactly what Lena wants. In fact, giving Lena everything she wants has become sort of a constant in this fledgling friendship between them. It just feels nice, you know? Giving her what she wants and making her smile. But this book. It's all so very distracting.

"So. Do you prefer the twenty love poems, or the song of despair?"

Lena rolls her eyes, but she can't quite hide the amused smirk behind the glass when she sips her wine, so Kara knows she's not nearly as annoyed as she's trying to appear.

"What is it with you and Neruda? I didn't know you were a poetry fan."

Kara scoffs. "I'm not." She still remembers the feeling of relief washing over her when she saw her passing grade on that stupid course and realized she'd never have to read another line of poetry in her life. "I don't even like poetry. I'm just curious, that's all."

Lena cocks one eyebrow at her. Studies her, in a way that makes color rise to Kara's cheeks and has her wondering if Lena can see through people, too. 

"Anyway!" Kara shakes her head like she's hoping that'll make the blush fade. "The love poems, or the song of despair?"

"The poems," Lena finally concedes, "and I'm very surprised you don't like poetry. You seem the type."

"What?" Kara is already thumbing through the edge of the book, trying to find the place where it'll open naturally and hopefully show her which of the twenty love poems Lena happens to like the most. "What does that even mean?"

"Well, you have a big heart. Big feelings." Lena looks into Kara's eyes like she's trying to read all those feelings right there in shades of blue, and Kara finds herself looking down at the book just in case. Just in case all those big feelings she can't even name herself are there for Lena to read. "Seems like a recipe for liking poetry."

Kara shakes her head and pushes her glasses up, just in case. Just in case the lead in them can shield more than just her powers. And just as she's about to argue -- just as she's about to tell Lena precisely why she doesn't like poetry -- she opens her book and her gaze lands on a familiar phrase.

"Quiero hacer contigo," she reads out loud from the page on the left, and her fingertip is already finding the next verse on the right when Lena finishes for her.

"What spring does to cherry trees."

If Kara was just Kara Danvers, she'd have missed it all. She'd have just heard her best friend speak a line from a poem that -- much like most poems -- means very little to her. But she's not just Kara Danvers. So Kara hears the way Lena's heart beats just a little bit faster. The way her breath catches just so. The exact fraction of a tone her voice drops when she speaks. The faintest hint of a sigh.

"See? This is why I don't like poetry." Kara chances a look into green eyes, and she's so very grateful Lena has no superhearing to tip her off to the way Kara's heart seems to trip all over itself.  "'I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees'. What does that mean?"

Kara swears -- she swears -- she catches Lena's pupils dilating just enough to make her think she knows exactly what the poem means. 

"It's not about what it means, Kara. It's about what it makes you feel." Lena lets out a soft chuckle, something light and airy like this is just a silly little conversation with no weight to it at all. Like she can't feel the way the air itself seems to have changed into something new. 

"Is it your favorite line?" Kara pretends she can't hear the way her own voice has changed, too.

Lena shakes her head. "No. My favorite is actually--"

Kara hears the DEO alarm before Lena's fingertip can make contact with the paper, and she almost considers ignoring it. She almost considers letting whatever danger is looming over this whole city have at it because finding out what's Lena's favorite line in her favorite poem seems far more important right now.

But of course, that would be crazy. Crazy! Kara would never.

"I'm so sorry, Lena, I--" Kara stands up, already hearing Alex's voice telling her where she's needed as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and pretends to read a text, "I have to go. I forgot I had this thing with--"

"Go." Lena's smile is just small enough to make Kara's heart twist in an uncomfortable way that's become familiar since she started lying to her friend. "Sounds important. I understand."

Kara nods, just once. "Tomorrow?"

Lena's smile doesn't grow, but it suddenly reaches her eyes, and something settles in Kara's chest. "Of course. Tomorrow."

Five hours later, foe defeated and safely locked away at the DEO, Supergirl touches down on Lena's balcony. There isn't a single light on inside the apartment, and Kara hesitates for a second by the sliding glass door. She shouldn't sneak into Lena's apartment in the middle of the night. That's a little creepy, right? Even if she knows Lena's said over and over again Kara's welcome any time.

It's just.

That book.

Lena's favorite line.

Kara may never be able to sleep again if she doesn't find out what it is.

So with a non-zero amount of shame at her own choice, Kara ends up sliding the door open and slipping into Lena's living space. She listens for Lena's breathing to make sure she's asleep, and once she's satisfied that's the case she makes a beeline for the shelf and the now-familiar book. It doesn't take her long to find the page she'd been reading before, and soon enough she's reading the lines Lena had been pointing to.

How you must have hurt getting used to me, to my savage, solitary soul, to my name that sends everyone running.

The words wrap around Kara's heart like a vice. If she could do it without blowing her cover and putting Lena in danger, she'd go in her room right now just to wake her up and tell her what Kara thinks about her soul. About her name, too, while she's at it. She'd tell her everyone else is free to run if they want, but Kara isn't going anywhere. 

But she can't do any of those things. 

***

The two lines stay with Kara, sort of swirling under the surface of her thoughts. She never actively thinks about them -- about poetry in general, for that matter -- but they're there. 

She remembers them sometimes. When their friendship grows and strengthens and one day Kara realizes Lena may be the person she loves the most in the world (tied with Alex). When the secrets and lies catch up with her and she thinks she may have lost Lena for good. When she finally gets Lena back.

It's been five years since she snuck into Lena's apartment that one night to find out about her favorite line in her favorite poem. Five years since she's actively thought about Neruda and the book and the words inside it. But for some reason, when Kara wakes up a couple hours earlier than she needs to and finds herself unable to sleep, she feels like that's precisely what she needs to read to soothe her brain. Maybe poetry will have the same sedative effect it used to have in college.

Wearing only an old t-shirt, Kara walks out of the bedroom and into the living area, scanning the shelves where she thinks she last saw that book. It's hard to keep track when your book collection has multiplied and turned into more of a home library situation than anything else, but she eventually finds it -- spine still cracked and pages still well-loved and well-read -- and settles down on the couch.

Kara flips from poem to poem, not really paying attention to any of them. A line from the third and then two from the eighteenth and a word or two from the seventh, eyes flicking between the Spanish lines and their English counterparts on the other side of the page. It's soothing, in a strange way. Like white noise, she figures. Nonsensical but calming. Until she lands on the fourteenth. 

"Oh, those cherry trees," Kara half-groans in a whisper. The cherry trees and the spring and the convoluted way to say I love you. And Lena's favorite lines. 

Kara feels it all over again. The pang of pain at the sight of that line.

My name that sends everyone running.

It lands different this time, five years into a friendship that turned out to be so much more and nearly went up in flames at one point. Because of names and lies and... well. Everything else. Lena was right after all, wasn't she? It's not about what the poem means. It's about what it makes you feel. And right now Kara feels a lot more than she'd be able to put in words if she had to.

Maybe Mr. Neruda was on to something after all.

"Hey," Lena's voice is laced with sleep, and Kara smiles as she listens to her footsteps bringing her closer, "what are you doing? It's the middle of the night."

Kara wouldn't call it the middle of the night -- more like a very early morning, really -- but she's not about to argue. "Reading. I couldn't sleep."

"Everything all right?" Lena reaches the back of the couch and makes the most of the rare height advantage over her girlfriend to press a kiss to the top of blond hair. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

Kara opens her arms before Lena can even think about sitting next to her instead, and smiles at the familiar weight of Lena sliding onto her lap. Even as she shrugs off Lena's question, Kara is already burying her face against the soft skin of her girlfriend's neck, breathing her in and letting the familiar scent filling her lungs soothe her like no amount of poetry ever could.

"Kara," Lena's fingers slide into blond hair, blunt fingernails scratching at Kara's scalp and making her hum in delight, "that's not an answer."

"No reason. I'm just not tired anymore I guess." A deep, content sigh. "Baby, you're so good at that."

There's still a slight crease between Lena's eyebrows, but that doesn't stop the smile Kara's praise brings to her face. "You'd tell me if I had to worry?"

Reluctantly, Kara pulls away from the warmth of Lena's neck. Her arms wrap around Lena's waist as she looks into green eyes. "You know I would."

And Kara watches Lena let the words sink in. They've had this conversation before, and Kara knows they'll have it again. They both have sore spots that need special care from time to time. And just to keep Lena's mind from going down any sort of rabbit hole, Kara decides it's time to continue a conversation they left unfinished five years ago.

"It didn't hurt at all, you know. Getting used to you." Kara shows Lena the book she's been holding, and grins when Lena smirks as the reference clicks.

"I thought you didn't like poetry," Lena chides, taking the book and flipping through the pages until she lands -- unsurprisingly, if you ask Kara -- back on poem fourteen.

"I don't. It's like... giving feelings a secret identity."

Lena arches one eyebrow, looking somewhere between amused and curious. "Care to explain?"

"Well, you know," Kara leans in to steal a quick, soft kiss, "say I want to kiss you. I can just say it. That's better than hiding it behind some kind of... flowery metaphor that'll make you wonder if I'm even saying that in the first place. Right?"

There's this look on Lena's face. Kara knows it well. It's like a challenge. Like she's playing chess and she's already thinking six moves ahead and knows you're toast whatever you do from that point on. Kara finds it nothing short of delicious.

"So you're saying," Lena says, and there's victory right there simmering under the surface of her words because she knows -- she knows -- she's won, "you'd rather I say 'this is a lovely sunrise we get to see together'," Lena's gaze drops to the open book in her hand to refresh her memory on the line she's about to quote, but she makes sure she's looking into blue eyes once again when she speaks, "than 'so many times we've watched the morning star burn, kissing our eyes, and over our heads the grey light unwind in turning fans', right?"

Kara swallows, hard. Her cheeks burn with a blush that will simply not be contained, no matter how hard she tries to keep some semblance of dignity. Her mouth feels dry all of a sudden, heart beating just fast enough -- hard enough -- that she's sure even Lena's plain human hearing can pick it up. And the look on her girlfriend's face lets Kara know she knows exactly what's currently happening to her.

"W-- well." Kara blinks, shaking her head like she's trying to physically clear the fog inside. To her credit, she thinks she manages to sound more indignant than turned on. "I mean that's unfair. You made it hot."

Lena lets out a delighted chuckle that hits Kara right in her heart, like a little pinball ball making it ding with the knowledge that Lena Luthor is happy enough to laugh. Really, truly laugh. 

"What?" Lena asks, still grinning, fingertips teasing the soft hairs at the back of Kara's neck like it's nothing -- like she doesn't know what she's doing to her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ohh no, ma'am," Kara grins, cheeks still burning with the feeling simmering down low in her belly but too charmed by her girlfriend's teasing smile to stop, "you don't get to pretend you didn't do that on purpose."

"Kara," Lena says, in that way, because she knows, she knows, she knows Kara's weaknesses so perfectly well, and Kara wouldn't have it any other way, "I was just quoting Neruda, I didn't do anything."

"You did the voice thing!" 

"What voice th-- Kara, if you can't just admit plain language and poetic language are simply not on the same level I--"

"You purred the words! How is that fair!?"

Kara presses her lips together like she can retroactively keep the words from exiting her mouth. Too late, though. Lena looks positively delighted.

"I purred the words?" Lena echoes, barely able to keep a straight face. Actually, you know what? Scratch that. She's openly pleased with herself. Smug, even.

"I mean. I mean," Kara says, and she touches the bridge of her nose with one fingertip because for a moment she's forgotten there are no glasses to push up at all, "obviously it's not the same. Poetry and prose, they're inherently--"

"Different, right," Lena finishes Kara's thought, "so you see how you'd use one or the other depending on how emotionally charged--"

Kara shakes her head. "But you don't need flowery metaphors to convey emotion! You can just say what you mean and mean what you say."

"But you just said it yourself. It felt different when I just said it's a sunset, and when I quoted--"

"You purred poetry at me, Lena, of course I'm going to feel a certain kind of way!"

And there it is. Kara feels it in her bones. The checkmate Lena had seen coming a mile away. She sees it right there in the smirk on her girlfriend's face. In the way Lena's pupils dilate just so. The way her tongue peeks out to lick her lips as she looks at Kara like she's lunch.

Or, you know. Breakfast, as the case may be.

"You feel a certain kind of way?" Lena shifts on Kara's lap and they've been together for long enough that Kara absolutely knows there's nothing innocent or coincidental in the way Lena's night shirt (Kara's high school gym t-shirt, mind you) rides up to expose Lena's lace-covered ass. "What kind of way is that, Supergirl?"

Kara perks up at the sound of her name. Her other name. Because maybe it wasn't checkmate after all. Maybe it was just check. Because the thing is, it's not just Lena knowing all of Kara's weaknesses. That knowledge very much goes both ways. And Lena calling her Supergirl? 

Oh, Kara is absolutely not the only one who's feeling a certain way.

"You know." Kara shrugs slightly, pretending to still be the mouse in this little game. She rests one hand on Lena's knee and lets her palm slide up her thigh, slowly, listening to Lena's heartbeat speeding up with each inch of skin Kara explores. "You know the way I mean."

Lena's breath hitches just so when Kara's hand slides further up, and Kara savors the sound of Lena's heart tripping over itself when her fingertips drag along damp lace.

"You're listening, aren't you?" Lena cocks her eyebrow, but her lips stay parted and her breathing comes in short, warm puffs so the whole thing really doesn't come off as stern as Kara is sure Lena would like. 

"Hmm?" Kara knows she's probably pushing her luck, but she bats her eyelashes anyway, her face the very picture of innocence as if her fingertips weren't tracing the very edge of Lena's panties, hinting at what they could (will) do if she just happened to push that fabric aside. "Listening to what, baby?"

Lena tries not to -- Kara can see the struggle right there in her eyes -- but she whimpers anyway, quiet and just barely audible to the human ear. 

"Kara." It tries to sound like a warning, but it falls just this side of pleading instead. Lena blushes so very pretty when she's feeling a certain kind of way.

"Yes, Lena?" 

"You're listening," a breath, slow and measured like she wishes she could take in a deep one but her lungs can't quite cope with that right now, "to me."

"Well, I mean," Kara shrugs slightly, like she can't feel the warmth of Lena's pussy against her fingertips, "I try to. I feel like it's good girlfriend etiquette."

Lena is trying so hard to look at least moderately annoyed. It's not working at all, but Kara can see that's her intent. She also knows exactly what Lena means, too. She means Kara is listening to her. To the beat of her heart and the air in her lungs and all the tiny, inaudible (for everyone else) sounds that tell her exactly how much Lena wants her. 

"You're listening to what you're doing to me." Lena drops the book on the floor to wrap both hands around Kara's neck, hips shifting forward just enough to get more contact with Kara's hand between her legs. Kara knows Lena doesn't need superhearing to notice the way Kara's breath catches in her throat. 

"And what am I doing to you, baby?" Kara won't cross the barrier of Lena's panties just yet, but her fingers becomes more purposeful, less teasing as two fingertips press against Lena's clit through damp lace. Lena's eyes flutter closed and she takes in a sharp breath that sounds almost like a gasp, and Kara rewards such a gorgeous sound with a kiss to Lena's jaw. "What Spring does to cherry trees?"

Lena must feel Kara's teasing grin even if she can't see it, because she lets out a breathless chuckle even as her hips start rocking to meet the movements of Kara's fingers. "Just admit poetry can express richer emotions than prose ever cou--"

Kara's mouth is on Lena's before she can finish her thought, and Kara would maybe feel a bit guilty for interrupting, but Lena's fingers fist in blond hair and pull her close and there's no way someone who's offended would kiss her like that. And Kara isn't even listening anymore, because Lena's tongue is in her mouth and all she can hear is her own heart thumping along anyway.

When she breaks the kiss, Lena keeps Kara close. She's panting slightly, breath hot and wet against Kara's lips and pupils so dilated Kara wonders if she can see her at all. A quiet, hitched moan escapes parted lips, and Kara swears there's nothing in the world -- in the universe, really -- more beautiful than Lena when she's like this. Like putty in her hands. And Kara just can't resist. 

"Admit you purred," she whispers against kiss-swollen lips, knowing if there's one chance for her to win an argument with her girlfriend this must be it. When she has Lena rocking against her fingers, wet and wanting and just the right amount of needy to get her to give in, for once. 

"Kara." It's practically a whine, and Kara swears it sounds like victory. Until she sees the glint in her girlfriend's eyes, and Lena gets her checkmate move after all. "Shut up and fuck me."

Kara feels the words rather than hears them. They hit right between her legs and spread all over her body, and you know what? Kara really is okay with losing under these particular circumstances.

Two fingers hook under the crotch of Lena's panties and Kara tugs lightly, almost like she's testing the strength of the lacy fabric. "Do you really like the..." Kara's voice trails off as Lena pulls the t-shirt up and over her head, blue eyes staring unabashedly at her girlfriends breasts as she struggles to finish her thought, "...these?"

It's just polite to ask before tearing someone's panties to shreds, if you ask her, even if you're currently transfixed at the sight of her breasts.

"I don't care." Lena's voice is doing that thing again, except this time Kara is pretty sure she's not doing it on purpose at all, it's just that's what Lena sounds like when she needs Kara now and isn't that just the best thing ever? "Baby, please, I don't care."

Kara doesn't know if she rips the panties off first and then leans in to catch Lena's left nipple with her mouth or if it happens the other way around, but she honestly doesn't care either, as it turns out. All she knows is two fingers slip inside Lena in one smooth, firm thrust, and her free hand grabs Lena's right breast, and then--

"More," Lena moans, breathy and greedy, but when Kara starts thrusting harder into her Lena shakes her head, "no, no-- more fingers," and Kara lets out a quiet whimper around the stiff nipple between her teeth. 

Kara pulls her fingers out of Lena and stretches her ring finger to join the first two before sliding them back inside. Her movements are slow and careful, all of her senses focused on detecting even the slightest hint of discomfort in her girlfriend until her three fingers are fully inside Lena. 

"Go on, Supergirl." 

Lena's tone is just the right amount of teasing to make Kara chuckle lightly, mouth leaving Lena's breast to trail kisses up her sternum and to the freckles on her neck as her arm starts pumping once again. She's so very close, Kara can tell, and even more so when she turns her wrist just so to press the pad of her thumb against Lena's clit.

Lena's fingers dig into Kara's scalp, into the strong muscle at her shoulder as Lena holds on and rides Kara's hand, hips rocking hard and fast in time with Kara's thrusts. Kara couldn't listen to any one thing if she tried. It's a symphony of sighs and moans, whimpers and ragged breaths and stuttering heartbeats that nearly overwhelms her senses until she feels Lena clench around her fingers, hips losing their rhythm as Lena comes with Kara's name on her lips.

Kara pulls her face away from Lena's neck just so she can look at her. Watch her come around her fingers and then relax, chest heaving with the effort of trying to catch her breath. Kara swears there can't be a more beautiful sight in the universe, especially not now, with the sun rising and bathing Lena's damp skin in early morning light. And as much as Kara tries to suppress it, there's a thought running through her head. A line from that stupid poem with its stupid cherry trees.

A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body... 

"You're thinking very loudly," Lena whispers, already resting her head on Kara's shoulder as her fingertips play with the hem of Kara's shirt, "what are you thinking?"

For a second, Kara considers telling her, but Neruda's words aren't what comes out when she opens her mouth. "Just how beautiful you look," she says, which is in fact the truth. Kind of. She can't let Lena win every single time, right?

***

"Apparently the first cherry trees got here in 1910, but they had to burn them all because of a bunch of insects." Kara holds the little guide book in her hand as she reads, her other hand safely in Lena's as they walk along the Tidal Basin. "These ones are newer, from 1912."

 "Oh, like the Titanic!" Lena looks delighted with the coincidence, and the bright smile on her face makes Kara lean in to steal a kiss from her lips. Her fiancée is super cute when she lets her inner dork show, if you ask Kara.

"See? I told you buying an actual guide book would be worth it!" Kara holds the small book in her hand with the pride of someone who's just won an argument (for once). "Where else are you going to get that kind of high quality trivia?"

"You do know the prototype L-Corp keychain I gave you last week can access Google, yes?"

"Not the same."

"Not to mention the actual supercomputers we all carry around in our pockets. Or the high-tech communicator in your wat--"

"Lena!" Kara groans. "Look around! The cherry blossoms! The quaintness of springtime! A romantic stroll along the river! Where's your sense of romance?"

Lena chuckles lightly, her free hand sliding up Kara's arm to wrap around her bicep. And Kara would complain about the obvious use of one of her many Lena-related weaknesses, but you know what? It works.

"Kara Danvers," Lena says, voice low and teasing, "that's all very poetic."

Kara rolls her eyes, but she can't quite stop the bright smile that's already appearing on her face. "Don't you start with me," she warns, not very convincingly. 

Lena presses a kiss to Kara's shoulder, and it makes color rise to Kara's cheeks even through the soft fabric of her cardigan. Even after all these years. But she figures if there's one day to be particularly enamored with one's fiancée, that's the day she's scheduled to receive a Presidential Award for her contributions to science and the betterment of humanity.

Not to brag. But Kara is proud.

"I love you," Kara says, because she can't not, "and I'm just so proud, I--"

Lena presses a finger to Kara's lips, stopping what was potentially about to turn into a whole speech about the many ways in which Lena Luthor could not possibly be any more perfect if she tried. 

"Kara," Lena warns, all cocked eyebrow and slightly pursed lips, "you promised. You promised you wouldn't cry before the actual ceremony."

And Kara would argue. She'd argue that she's perfectly capable of going on about Lena's many virtues without actually crying, but you know what? Her eyes are feeling just a tiny bit misty already so she's just gonna go ahead and trust Lena on this one.

"You know what I also love?" Kara presses a kiss to the pad of Lena's finger and obediently changes subjects. "Sushi. Let's go get some." Kara starts walking away from the beautiful soft pink trees and in the general direction of the street festival, tugging Lena along. She's all for the romance of blossom-watching, but she'd be lying if she said hearing about the culinary side of this whole festival hadn't excited her a bit more than that.

It's only when she hears a sigh coming from Lena that Kara's focus shifts from food to the woman next to her. That wasn't a happy sigh. 

"Are you okay, baby?"

Lena smiles. It's not a fake smile, but there's a hint of something in it that isn't fully happy, either. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. It's just... between the cherry blossoms and all this talk of sushi, I guess it made me a bit nostalgic for Sendai." 

"Sendai?" Kara looks at Lena with curiosity written all over her face. "What's Sendai?"

"Oh, it's a city in Japan. I lived there for a few months for an exchange when I was in college. Did I never tell you?" Kara shakes her head, her face the picture of delight at getting to learn something new about Lena. "There was this little restaurant near Tohokudai, I swear they had the best sushi in the world." Lena hums, letting her eyes flutter closed for a second like she's trying to imagine the taste. "I'd do anything for some negitoro maki from that place right about now."

Kara listens intently to her fiancée's words. She knows it's just a silly little comment. She knows Lena will be perfectly happy eating the undoubtedly delicious sushi currently being sold at the street festival. And yet.

She can't resist a chance to make Lena just that little bit happier, can she? 

So Kara looks around to make sure they're not being watched, and lets go of Lena's hand. "Be right back."

"Where are you--?"

But all Lena gets is a quick kiss and a gust of wind on her face before Kara disappears.

She's only gone for a couple of minutes -- just enough for Lena to wander back towards the cherry trees -- and when she comes back she's holding a small box which she immediately presents to Lena.

"Sushi for my... sushi," Kara lets out a chuckle, her now-free hand coming up to scratch at the back of her head like she's aware she may have gone just a little bit overboard but she's hoping it won't be too much, "Sendai's beautiful, by the way."

Lena's smile is soft, and Kara has a feeling -- not to toot her own horn -- if she'd been listening she would've heard Lena's heart skip a beat. 

"Kara Danvers," Lena sighs, shaking her head like that'll do anything to hide just how charmed she is right now, "you're something el-- what's that?"

"Nothing," Kara shifts slightly and puts her hand -- and the little carton box it's holding -- behind her back, fully intending on letting the focus of this moment be on her romantic gesture, but Lena raises one eyebrow and Kara loses her resolve. "Potstickers." Kara's voice is quiet as she shows Lena the box. "What? I was in the neighborhood!"

"In the neighborhood of," Lena squints slightly as she reads the words on the box, "Shanghai?"

"Well, China is next door to Japan, if you think about it."

Lena chuckles, clearly too charmed by this whole thing to even continue teasing Kara about it. "Thank you. For this. You didn't actually have to fly all the way to Japan to get my favorite sushi, but I appreciate it."

Kara shrugs, chopsticks already grabbing the first potsticker in the box. "I'd go way farther than Japan to make you happy. You know that."

"I do know," Lena nods, looking just a little thoughtful, like she's just now realizing she fully believes Kara would stop at nothing to make her happy, "you even promised when you proposed."

Lena wiggles her finger, flashing the kryptium ring that's been there for a few weeks now along with a teasing smile, and Kara can only shrug. "Well, I meant it," she says, popping the potsticker in her mouth and leaning against the trunk of a nearby cherry tree.

"I know," Lena says again, but this time she's smiling, amusement shining in her eyes, "if only Lex had figured out the one true way to have the world in the palm of your hand is to make a Kryptonian fall in love with you."

"To be fair, I really don't think your brother is Kal's type."

***

Eight hours later, they're seeing the Tidal Basin from above, the cherry blossoms looking nearly white in the moonlight. They could be in National City already, but Kara figures there's no reason why she can't take the scenic route with Lena in her arms and enjoy the view without the crowds and the bustle they experienced earlier today. Perks of being your own private jet.

"Go a bit lower, baby," Lena's voice is soft against Kara's ear, like she's afraid if she speaks too loud she'll break the spell and they won't feel like the only two people in the world anymore, "I want to see the flowers."

Kara doesn't make her wait. Lena's just been awarded an actual medal by the President, and spoiling her a little is the least Kara can do. So she dips until they're hovering just above the soft pink blossoms and then a little lower still, close enough that Lena can smell the sweet, fresh scent of Spring.

The night is clear and quiet, just cool enough for Lena to reach for Kara's cape and pull it forward to wrap it around herself. Kara holds her a little closer, just enough to hopefully provide a bit of extra warmth, and she figures it was the right move when Lena slips one arm from under Kara's cape to reach for the tree and pick a particularly pretty blossom from one of the branches that's closer to them.

Lena looks at it for a moment, twirling the little stem between her fingers like she's pondering what to do with it. And then she turns and tucks Kara's hair behind her ear, sliding the small flower between soft blond strands and smiling when she's satisfied it'll stay exactly where she wants it.

"Happy?" Kara chuckles, something soft and quiet and a little teasing because there's something equal parts amusing and endearing about Lena's perfectionism when it comes to silly little things like putting a flower in Kara's hair.

"Very."

And there's something about the way Lena smiles, more with her eyes than with her mouth, that makes Kara see, clear as day, just how serious Lena is. How sincere, when she says she's very happy. 

Maybe that's why Kara gets a little transfixed just looking at her, suddenly aware of just how different this Lena -- the Lena wrapped in her arms and her cape, wearing her ring and smiling with a smile that's just Kara's -- is from the Lena she first met all those years ago.

"Kara Zor-El," Lena's voice is soft just like the sound of Kara's true name on her lips, "what are you thinking about?"

And Kara wishes she had the words to tell her. But how does she even begin to explain what she's feeling right now? How she's still the same Lena that made Kara's heart trip all over itself the first time she saw her, but she's so very different all the same time. Brighter. Lighter. Loved. God, she's so loved, and Lena knows it, finally, and that's what's different, maybe. Not just Kara's love, because Lena's had that from the very first day, probably, but the fact that Lena can feel it now. 

How do you put that in words? I love you just doesn't feel like enough. 

And then it hits her.

"I'm thinking," Kara smiles, cheeks pink with the knowledge that she's just been proven wrong, "about what Spring does to cherry trees."

[cupiiid]

anderperry week 2k21!

hi everyone!! a lot of you guys have expressed your interest in another anderperry week so i've been planning one with some other people :))

these are the prompt options for this year i think. this is mostly the final list but if anyone has anything else they really want to add, just reblog it with the addition and i'll add it to the list :)

this was 2015's list which i wanted to post so people don't resubmit the same prompts as last time. i just think it'll be more fun to have different ones so we don't repeat the same content.

i'll probably keep the list open for another day or so and then i'll put all the ideas into a google form and the seven prompts with the highest votes will be the prompts for anderperry week 2021

this isn't just for fics by the way!! you can make anything you'd like. gifsets, fics, edits, fanart, whatever just as long as it fits the prompt :)

also, don't worry, im talking getting stuff ready now but the week itself probably won't be for another month or so (i'll talk to some people to come up with the dates and then post them when i know) to give people time to get ready and stuff.

i was just thinking we should probably not use the og anderperry week tag so in a few years, when people want to look back on the fandom history (just like us) the anderperry weeks would be separate things to look at. idk just to see the difference and stuff? i just don't want to crowd the tag with our stuff because they're from two different times y'know? (jesus, sorry, i sound like such a nerd lmaoo). i suggest we maybe use a different tag like anderperry week 2k21 just to keep them separate

anyway, please share this if you want to be a part of anderperry week and if you have any other ideas for the list. oh! and if anyone has any questions or ideas, please feel free to dm me. thank you!! <3

[isaac-lahey-imagines]

Imagine #70 | Request #31 (Part 3/3 of Isaac Lahey x Alpha!Reader)

Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2 (might need to rewrite these two though)

Can I just say that you guys who stuck with this blog (and the Wattpad imagines) are the best? And to think I haven't posted in years and we've hit 6k+ followers when I came back?! I don't even know how you people are still here and loving the pieces I put out when I'm here cringing over the old works back in 2015!

Warnings: The usual when it comes to the Teen Wolf series, specifically the Dread Doctors' season, mentions of blood, bones breaking, drugs, needles, a few curse words, idk if this is angst? whump?

Word Count: 6k+ (it's probably the longest I've written omg)

Not much of a flashback or backstory (I'm out of words, I can't squeeze anymore juices out of my brain, my bad). As usual, this is note beta-ed and sorry for any mistakes! English isn't my first language :(

~

“No more, please,” weak cries fell on deaf ears as you were dragged down from one hall to another, the smell of disinfectant and rust overpowering your already sensitive nose and magnifying the headache that was present from when you took a beating earlier.

The sound of bare flesh skidding on the polished floor bounced off the walls as you tried to pull away and run from your captors, you did not care of the stinging sensation that radiated from the pads of your feet - the open wounds left untreated by the people who kept you in hopes that whatever was inside of you can take care of it on its own.

You were repulsed at the thought of them still being considered as people after what they have put you through - they were monsters.

“Just a little more, my dear.” One of the figures that held your arm sneered, the grip on your bicep tightening making you clench your jaw. You internally scoffed at this knowing well that it won’t be ‘just a little more’ with how long and how frequent it happened and will happen.

“She should be able to go through another round.” A voice, deeper than the feminine one from earlier, spoke up as you entered through the heavy double doors of a room - an operating theater you guessed from the setup. “Prep her.”

“Her vitals are stronger now.” The third person declared, their fingers flipping through the pages of the clipboard in their hands before glancing towards the monitor to one side of the room - an image of your anatomy on display with different colors corresponding to each system in your body.

“The less you struggle the faster this will be.” One of the doctors, the Geneticist, who dragged you to this hell hole hummed as she was met with resistance on your end while she strapped you down on the cold metal table, the leather rubbing your already raw skin.

Her patience with you was at a limit, she was close to just ending it - ending you. But they have already achieved so much with their craft that it would be such a waste of time and resource to start from square one.

“Remember,” The Pathologist warned as he walked closer to you once you were settled down. “The louder you scream, the more blood we take from you.”

The tears that fell from your eyes to the sides of your face tickled your ears at the threat, small whimpers coming from you were ignored.

“Might I remind you that the btch wakes up?” The Geneticist interrupted, irritation in her voice as she steadied your shaking right hand before inserting an IV cannula in a vein at the back of your hand and taping it in place. Looking up to her left, she reached for the device below one of the two bags that hung on the pole and unclamped its tube letting the mix of anxiolytic, hypnotic, and anticonvulsant start to flow down to you. She then turned her attention to the other bag beside it, a mix of amnestic, and myorelaxant drugs, and did the same - a near-perfect cocktail mix they specifically designed for you.

She reminded the other doctors that no matter how much benzos, relaxants, or other drug concoctions they pump in your veins, you will wake up in between operations screaming your head off while attempting to break free of the hold you are currently in. “No matter how much sedatives we put in her, her wolf is too strong-”

“It’s an animal-” The Surgeon spoke up.

“She’s an alpha, a pure one-” She argued again, almost growling at the hard-headedness of her co-doctors before she was cut off by the same person.

“An animal.” He spoke in finality. “We are humans - gods even! We are at the very top of the damned food chain.”

The room suddenly fell silent, your whimpers, the beeping of a monitor, and the hum of the machines somewhere in the room were the only things that could be heard as you started to feel the effects of the fluids injected into you.

The tension you felt from earlier began to leave your body just as your vision started getting cloudy, your eyelids feeling heavier by the minute. You didn’t notice the Pathologist holding up a syringe to the light, flicking the bubbles away with his middle finger and thumb a few times before the taste of rubber invaded your mouth with such force that hurt your lips, gums, and teeth.

The Surgeon that was above you, blocking the light for a few moments, had shoved the mouth guard in before he continued securing your head in the metal gear positioned above you. Your neck followed suit with a hard metal clamp attached to the table effectively locking you in place and soon, your whole body was completely immobilized with a loud click from the double lock clamps.

The tears continued to flow down the sides of your face as you fought the sleepiness, praying for this to just end. The dread of what is to come overwhelming you and making your body shake as much as the drugs and table’s hold on you would allow.

“I’m surprised the smart one hasn’t figured it out yet.” They exchanged small talk over your muffled screams as soon as you felt the sharp sting of a needle puncturing your skin and into your cervical spine; expelling whatever it was they created into your system for the nth time. Your ears hurt from the ringing in your head while your throat burned as the pain from the syringe radiated all over your body.

“I’m surprised her mate hasn’t.” The Geneticist replied with emphasis.

“My friends, let us not be complacent.” Their leader ended their conversation as he now concentrated on looking at the x-ray on the monitor showing the movement of the serum as it spread in you.

“We continue our routine - clean her up, wipe her to an extent and then return her. ” He added as he pushed more of the liquid in you with a press of a button by your head.

“Marcel, they will know, soon enough.” She pointed out. “She will start to have withdrawals if-”

“We won’t let that happen.”

~

Sneakers skidding on the floor as everyone seemed to scramble out of the way towards the door, eyes wide with fear looking at the figure in front of them.

“Y/N?”

“Alpha?”

Isaac watched as the massive wolf in front of them let out a deep growl with its teeth bared at the people that called her attention, the fur on her back and chest standing up making her look even bigger than she already is.

“Y/N,” Isaac knew that Deaton was the best person to handle all kinds of supernatural cases, hence, the title of Emissary to their pack. “It’s Deaton.”

Letting out another growl as you licked your lips, your tail flicked lowly behind you as your eyes darted to each person present in the room before landing back to one in particular who was too close for comfort.

“Y/N, hey,” His voice sounded softer, it almost made you feel a sense of comfort until his hand reached out to you and made you snap back and almost bite it off.

This instinctively made Scott pull Isaac back by his shirt to a safe distance, struggling a bit in his grasp as the beta did not want to be moved further away from you despite the situation.

“Isaac, move back,” Deaton warned when he noticed that the curly-haired werewolf was not backing down, a hand gesturing for him to move away from you. “She’s scared.”

“No, Deaton, she heard me. She’s there - Y/N,” Isaac argued before turning his attention back to you again, blue eyes already glassy as tears filled the rim of his eyes. “She heard me.”

Isaac tried to hold on to the hope that you were present underneath the wolf because he was sure he saw that familiar glimmer that was distinctly you.

Just as he attempted to reach out to you again with a whisper of your name on his lips, the same frequency you heard before rang in your ears making you seize up and drop to the ground.

“Agh! What is that?” Liam winced as his hands reached up to his head to cover his ears, eyes scrunching shut as he tried to will away the incessant ringing.

“What’s what?” Mason asked with confusion etched on his face as he looked at his friend then to Stiles and the others, the werewolves in the room in particular, doing the same.

Isaac did not care for the ringing he heard, witnessing you looking like you were being kicked or beaten as you struggled to stand up, the sound of pained screams, whines, and whimpers coming out of you pulled at his heart making him drop to his knees beside you.

His hands hovered over your form trying to figure out what to do while he avoided getting scratched by the large clawed paws that writhed with your body, Scott and Thor doing the same and looking over you trying to see where exactly were you hurting.

“Deaton,” Isaac called as he carefully placed his hand on your shoulder before hissing - you were burning up and the black color that coursed through his veins upon touching you wreaked of disease. “Deaton what do we do?!”

“What is that?” Thor asked in bewilderment as he saw what was happening with Isaac’s arms.

“Hold her still as much as you can,” The vet’s voice was calm despite the mess, going to one of the counters in the room and asking Stiles and Mason for assistance as he tried to collect what sounded like glass vials from the way it clinked in their hold.

Isaac heard Thor mutter an apology to his alpha as he tried to hold your hind legs down as much as he can, Scott doing the same by your torso and Isaac by your neck.

“Y/N,” Isaac continued to call for you as he tried to hold your front legs down. “It’s Isaac, baby - it’s me.”

“Hurry!” Scott called to Deaton as his eyes scrunched and a sheen of sweat already present on their foreheads, the ringing still present in their ears making it difficult for them to concentrate.

Just as Deaton returned and knelt by your side, carrying a stainless steel tray that contained what looked like multiple large syringes in it, the static ringing noise started to get louder making the supernatural beings in the room let out a pained groan and lose their grip on you.

It grew too much too quickly to bear, causing the lights and windows above your heads to shatter and engulf the room in darkness. As everyone ducked for cover, Isaac stayed by your side and tried to shield you from the onslaught of sharp glass descending on you.

It took a few moments before the ringing stopped and the feel of cold air entered the room, snapping them back to their senses as their eyes opened at the smell of blood it carried with it.

Isaac immediately sat up as he felt the cold tiled floor and not your warm body underneath him.

“Y/N,” was all he said before he sprinted out of the room, the others following behind him.

“How did she get out?” He heard Stiles behind him once they reached the outside of the clinic, Thor already looking around the perimeter of the establishment for any signs of you.

Isaac’s brain was running a hundred miles at what he saw and what had just happened inside, his lips quivering as he ran his hands through his hair and pulling at the roots in frustration. He sniffled as he tried to stop the tears from running down his cheeks with the heels of his hands. Exhaling, he closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing before turning to Scott.

“She’s not gone,” his alpha spoke, already reassuring him. “We’re going to find her.”

Just before Isaac could reply and shoot down the optimism his alpha had, a car screeched to a halt in front of them.

“Where is she?!” Lydia asked as she got out of the driver’s side, a frantic look in her bloodshot eyes.

“Hey, hey, what happened?” Stiles was immediately by her side, cupping her face in his hands. But Lydia only moved out of the way and turned to Isaac and asked again.

“We don’t know where she is. She disappeared right before Deaton -” Lydia was close to tears again as she groaned in frustration.

“They can’t get her back.” She said, sounding more of a beg as her voice shook a little.

Everyone in front of her stopped what they were doing and looked at the Banshee.

“Who’s they? And where do you think Y/N is?” Stiles asked before a few seconds later, realization hit him.

~

It was on the way to Eichen House that Lydia explained everything she saw that made her break all the traffic laws implemented in Beacon Hills just to rush to the vet clinic. Isaac could not shake the feeling that Lydia, a banshee – a herald of death, had visions of you in his arms already in eternal slumber. His wolf broke more than a little as she spoke more of what she saw, only a few words registering to him – Y/N, doctors, experiment, and torture.

Everything was a flash for Isaac now, he did not even realize that they were now in a tunnel under the mental facility planning on who was going where.

But once their strategy was laid out, Isaac wasted no time in trying to locate even the faintest of your scent in the damp and moldy tunnel he was walking through. He heard Stiles and Lydia speaking on the phone in his pocket that they'd found an office that had files strewn everywhere – files that specifically contained information about you and what they have done with you so far.

“Any luck finding her?” Lydia asked as Isaac heard papers being flipped on the other end of the line.

“Nope, not yet,” Liam replied.

“No, she’s not here.” Thor was next then Scott, all claiming to find only empty rooms and dungeons.

“Isaac?” Lydia asked after not hearing from him.

“None,” he answered, sounding defeated as he rounded another corner with you nowhere in sight.

Isaac could hear collective sighs as they continued their searches, his ears already drowning out what Lydia and Stiles were doing - occasionally spitting out questions of why’s as they continued to browse through what they found in the files.

His breathing became labored as his mind started to play tricks on him the further we walked down the tunnel, the source of light slowly fading the deeper he went.

Just as he was about to turn another corner, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He felt as though soft fingertips touched him, making his skin crawl as he turned around quickly only to find an empty space. But as he directed his attention to the other corner of the room, the colors on his face drained.

Amidst the mess of metal chains and torn blankets, Isaac watched closely as the figure on the floor took a raspy breath, eyes moving behind closed lids, lips mumbling incoherent words.

“Y/N?” Isaac slowly approached, the other members of the pack on the other line calling for his attention and asking if they heard him call your name.

At the sound of your name being called, your body went rigid. Your eyes flew open, widening as you saw a shadowy figure in front of you moving closer.

“Please, no more.” Your voice cracked from the overuse as you begged, the sound of heavy metal clinking together echoed in the empty room as you backed away slowly. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, please!”

Your frame quivered as you continued to plead, sweat mixed with blood trickled down your body as you attempted to make yourself smaller against the corner of the cell; failing from the sudden pain on the back of your neck that restricted you to move any further away from where you were.

“Y/N, it’s Isaac. I’m not going to hurt you.” Isaac ignored the voices over the phone calling for him, asking if he really found you. “You’re safe now, they’re not going to hurt you.”

Isaac almost expected for you to cower further away from him, but you didn’t – instead, you relaxed a little as his hand landed on the small of your back and the other on your shoulder effectively pulling you into an embrace.

As Isaac felt you release a breath before melting against his chest, his scent effectively calmed you down as your wolf recognized her other half. You both stayed like that for a while before he went back to examining you and what was behind you, more so what was attached to you.

Now, more diligent in his movements, his hands hovered over what seemed to be a tube attached to the back of your neck. He shifted in his kneeling position, careful not to jostle you, before taking his phone from his pocket.

“Something’s attached to her, I need to get it off-.” He informed more to Stiles and Lydia than to others present on the call.

“Don’t!” Lydia exclaimed, panicked at what Isaac was planning. “Not yet.”

“But she’s already hurting!” Isaac’s hands returned to your shoulder and back, holding you closer - as close as the tube permitted.

“That’s connected to her spine, Isaac,” Stiles added, warning him of what might happen. “If you remove it you might do some serious damage here.”

His attention turned back to you when he heard you whimper his name.

You were testing to see if Isaac was really there with you or if you were merely hallucinating again, not sure anymore of what was real after everything that happened to you for the past few years.

“Isaac?”

“Hi,” he smiled down when he pulled away from you a little, his voice shaking as he cupped your face in his hands. “I’m here.”

Your eyes focused on his face, blinking a few times before-

“No.”

That, he did not expect.

“No, no, no.” You mumbled repeatedly making Isaac more confused- were you not happy or relieved to see him with you?

“You shouldn’t be here.” As you came to your senses, you moved out of his grasp and pushed him away at the same time with the little strength you have left.

“Y/N, we came here for you. What are you talking about?” Isaac was hurt, you can see it in his face the way his brows furrowed and eyes already releasing a few tears down his cheeks.

Before you could answer back, the same ringing sounded again.

“Isaac, you have to go, please.” You cried, your own tears flowing down your cheek as you tried to pry his hands that held on to your wrists away, wanting to get out of his hold on you all the while fighting the heavy ache in your body to turn against your own will.

“Isaac, you have to get out of there!” You can hear Stiles over the phone, can hear Scott and the others running to where your werewolf was located.

“I’m not leaving her,” Isaac growled at them but his eyes stayed on you.

“You have to, plea-”

“Y/N!”

A blood-curdling scream left your lips as your body started to tremble on the floor, your bones were visibly breaking and morphing under your skin against your will yet again. The jagged edges of the broken bones breaking through skin and the movement causing purple and blue patches to decorate your flesh, all the while the liquid inside the tube that was still attached to you bubbled angrily.

“Isaac!”

Turning to the person who called his name, he suddenly felt himself being tugged down to the floor as the sound of electricity zipping past them blasted onto the steel bars of a small window on the wall overcame your pained screams.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” the static voice called.

“It’s the Dread Doctors.” Stiles’ voice over the phone can be heard, more papers can be heard being flipped and thrown somewhere. “They’re the ones doing this to Y/N.”

“I need to get it off of her!” Isaac spoke to the phone as he watched Thor lunge at one of the doctors in front of them, his clawed hand not holding back any hits he let out. Scott was next when another appeared much closer to where you and Isaac were.

Once your cries quieted down and your body settled down to small shakes - appeased from the onslaught of transforming against your will, Isaac’s hands hovered over the tube.

“You have to go before they hurt you.” It was barely a whisper when the words came out of your mouth, your body was getting too tired to fight it anymore.

“No, I’m not leaving without you, you know that.” Isaac spoke it with a voice that left no room for arguments as he held the tube in his hand and attempted to pull.

Isaac held back a sob as the screams you let out shattered through the noise of the grunts and punches being thrown. But before he could successfully pull it out, a force had hit him and sent him across the room hitting a wall with a loud thud.

“Near-perfect.” Another doctor, the same one who threw Isaac off of you, had appeared next to you with a device in his hand that, from the looks of it, controlled the tube that was pumping the liquid into you.

“Stop, please!” Your hands flew to the contraption attached to you just as Isaac charged at the doctor, sending them both to the ground.

Blinking away the heaviness of your eyelids, you tried to move from your position on the floor only to fall back down flat on your stomach. The wolf in you whined in panic, barking almost as she nudged you with her head to stand up - that you still had strength in you and she was there to anchor you herself.

“Give her back to me,” You can hear Isaac from across the room, the sight of him swiftly landing blow after blow at the doctor caught you off guard. The blood that ran down his temple to his eyes only added a level of intensity to his yellow glowing gaze as he gave a growl that had an unnerving timbre to it. “Now.”

On the other end of the room, you watch Scott claw at the doctor he was against before the mask fell off and revealed a face that was mottled, wrinkled, and scarred. If the true alpha was disgusted, he did not show it as he put his arms up to block the hit the doctor threw his way.

At the sound of a device dropping to the cemented floor, you felt the vibration of the tube behind you stop - the bubbles silencing as it halted its actions. This immediately cleared your head and relieved you of the pain, the fuzzy veil finally lifting as you took another deep breath and attempted to sit upright again.

Successfully sitting up with a few labored breaths accompanied by a wince, you lifted your aching arms and took hold of the tube attached behind you - the stinging feel of the needle made itself known as the small movement you made just from holding it jostled a little.

Taking a couple of ragged breaths again, trying to gather the courage and strength to pull the thing behind you when the air was suddenly knocked out of your lungs. The sensation of a sharp jab radiated from your side, the groan you let out echoed to the other end of the room making your eyes dart to where Isaac was.

“No,” you let out a gasp at the sight of your mate wide-eyed as he stared up at the doctor in front of him - the pain you felt on your side mirroring where the Surgeon’s swordcane embedded on Isaac’s side and giving it a twist for good measure. “Isaac!”

Your wolf’s painful yips turned to a low dangerous growl.

Feeling the familiar throb in your gums as your canines grew longer, you heard a banshee’s piercing scream all the way from the other wing of the Eichen house while a true alpha’s growl filled the place you were in.

“No more,” You say through clenched teeth, Thor’s knees buckling at the command in his alpha’s voice, Scott and the doctors they were up against stood in awe at the willpower you displayed.

“Perfect,” one of them said under their breath, the final push for perfection.

Finally standing tall, the tube attached to your neck earlier now clutched in your hand, you did not waste time as you took down each person who did you wrong.

Going for the closest antagonist in your life, Thor immediately scrambled out of your way as your claws wrapped around the Geneticists neck. You let your body move past her without letting go of your grip on her before using the momentum to lift the doctor up, the weight and force effectively disconnecting her head from the rest of her body before hurdling her to the Pathologist who was clambering away from Scott and the fight.

Everything was a blur to the other occupants of the room as you zipped past them and took down each one before you finally lunged at the Surgeon who finally released his grip on both his cane and on Isaac.

“My child-” he managed to say as your grip on his neck tightened, his feet barely touching the ground - your eyes glowing a dangerous color as you stared up at him.

You can finally see through the mask, raw pink flesh with stitches decorating it was what the steel mask protected. His mouth opened to say something but only a gurgled gasp came out as your other hand embedded itself in his chest and pierced through skin and muscle. You felt your wolf puffing up with pride and anger - you were their greatest creation and downfall.

Silence enveloped the room as the lead doctor took his last breath before you haphazardly threw him to the ground.

With his nose scrunched and eyebrows furrowed, Isaac pulled the swordcane out of him. His jaw clenching before he let out a pained groan at the feel of the weapon sliding out before leaning heavily against the brick wall while clutching his side.

Your attention was immediately drawn to your other half, managing to wipe off some of the blood on your hand before tending to him.

“Hey,” Isaac greeted as he tried to not lean all his weight to you as you wrapped your arms around his waist, careful not to touch the stab wound on his side. You felt tears playing at the edge of your lashes as you buried your face against his chest, the scent signifying home.

“Can’t really ask you if you’re okay,” You managed to say once you pulled away and looked up at him.

“You’re one to talk,” Isaac replied with a chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You smiled, wiping the stray tear that ran down your cheek with the back of your hand as Isaac’s lips returned to your forehead for another kiss.

“Y/N, look-”

“No!”

A loud bang and the pain that came with it suddenly broke the bubble of peace you were in.

Clutching you to his chest, you saw the same confused expression that reflected on Isaac’s eyes before they darted from you to where the smell of gunpowder was coming from.

The Pathologist’s hand shook as he held the gun up, a crazed look in his eyes as he attempted to stand up from being buried under his colleague's lifeless body. He muttered incoherent words as he aimed the gun at you again.

But before he can pull the trigger, another loud thud took you all by surprise as you witnessed the man fall down flat on his face.

“Damn.” Lydia was behind him with a bloodied metal bat clutched in her hands - Stiles’ hands were up in the air, his eyes were wide as if he couldn’t believe his girl just did that.

“Well mark me down as scared and horny,” Stiles muttered under his breath, his brain replaying the moment Lydia all but took off with his metal bat and ran down the hall as fast as her heels allowed her to where they were now.

~

“Thank you, Thor.” You hugged the larger-built werewolf, his arms wrapping around you tightly but still being mindful of your current state. “But I don’t think I’m fit to be your alpha - to be the pack’s alpha anymore.”

“I will never understand how you and the others accepted me after what had happened.” Your feet dangled as you sat on a bricked fence outside of the Eichen house, the jacket from Isaac wrapped around you securely to act as a buffer against the coolness of the night.

You can hear Thor’s wolf whine at your words, his face already reflecting the sadness you both felt at what you were doing as he leaned against the fence you were sitting on.

“Alpha, please don’t discredit yourself.”

You looked up at him, not really believing his words with how much damage you’ve done to the pack - to your family.

“You are more than worthy - especially at your age.” He added, pointing out that most of the alphas out there were a hundred years older than you. “You are strong.”

“Thank you, again - for everything,” your lips quivered as you gave your best smile before glancing up to try and prevent the tears from spilling down your cheeks. The thought of leaving your pack broke your heart, they were family. But you needed to have someone better to lead and handle pack-related things -- you needed to recover.

A comfortable silence settled around the two of you before you heard Stiles and Isaac walking towards you.

“Jeep’s good to go, big guy.” Stiles said - more to Thor than you - with a tilt of his head to gesture to where they were parked as Isaac helped you to your feet and walked you towards Lydia’s car.

“You okay?” Isaac asked softly as you both settled in the back seat.

His eyes double-checked the graze on your shoulder from the bullet that hit you, his arms never leaving your side as he let you lean on him - exhaustion already catching up to you with the way your body sagged against his.

No, not really. You wanted to say as he only tugged you closer to him, the drive to Deaton being quieter save for the soft tunes the radio played.

“I will be.”

~~~

Isaac didn’t know what exactly woke him up.

Staring back at the ceiling, his ears strained to hear bed sheets rustling beside him. With the little light that passed through the curtains of the room you shared, he ran his hands down his face before turning to his bedside.

His eyes squinted when his phone awoke and flashed the time, 3:01AM it read - the phone’s screen showed a picture of the two of you together during a weekend picnic Lydia had arranged a few weeks ago. You had your eyes closed and lips smiling - a genuine smile after so long - against his neck as he had his arms wrapped around you tightly while he made a face to the camera.

Isaac stared at his phone’s lock screen a few moments longer before movement on his side and the feel of cold skin touching his leg took him out of his reverie.

Putting his phone back on the nightstand, he curled back down the covers and turned to face you. For someone who’s a warm-blooded supernatural creature themself, you sure have cold feet.

Isaac cupped your face before tucking a stray hair behind your ear, you were lying on your stomach facing him with your hands tucked just a little under your pillow. You were still in deep sleep but it did not look as peaceful as he remembered - your brows were furrowed, your lips moved as if mumbling something and an occasional hand twitch was what he observed.

“Y/N?” Isaac asked, his voice croaked from the lack of use as he leaned on his elbow and tried to coax you awake.

It didn’t take too long before Isaac finally understood what you were saying.

Please, no more...p-please.

Leaning over your side of the bed, Isaac flicked the switch to your bedside lamp open and tried to call for you again. He could now see the thin layer of sweat on your forehead, the sheets bunching up in your grasp as your knuckles turned a lighter shade from how tight your grip was.

I can’t t-take it anymore...

“Hey, baby,” Isaac gently ran his hand down your back a few times, trying not to ‘jolt’ you awake. He knew what methods to use in waking you up when things like these happen, though it took multiple trials and errors with a few bumps - more or less scratches - in the way. But god, he’d take you screaming and lashing out at him any day than this.

I’m sorry, I won’t do it again...

“Y/N, please wake up for me.”

It broke his heart more at the thought that while you were already together, even if in that span of time you were simply friends at first, they’ve already done a multitude of things to you.

“Y/N, I’m here - you’re safe.” He tried again, the soft kiss to your temple lingering a little longer in hopes that it might help - let you sense that he was present and you were not in danger anymore.

“Y/N, no one’s gonna hurt you,” He spoke softly.

Covering your clenched hand with his, it was all it took before your eyes flew open with a sharp gasp of air. It took some strength and swiftness from Isaac to hold your wrists when you sat up so fast - almost bumping his chin in the process - that you almost fell out of the shared bed.

“Hey, hey,” He called for you, your eyes were dilated, blown wide and looking around frantically as if you were searching for the threat that plagued your life a year ago and giving you these night terrors that prevented you from having a good night’s sleep.

“I’m here, you’re safe.” He repeated, waiting for you and not letting go.

“Isaac,” He waited a little more before you finally settled down and realized where you were, your voice shook a little as you spoke his name; eyes glassy as you looked at the familiar blue eyes that called for you.

“I’m here.” Isaac gave a small smile as his hold on your wrist loosened before sliding his hands in yours and holding onto them on your lap - the soft yellow light from your bedside lamp gave his face a soft glow; his eyes looking more kinder that it already was.

Not again. Your lips trembled as you held back a sob, you shook your head as you stared down at your joined hands.

You felt trapped.

That was the only thing you felt and you wanted out, you wanted this to stop; you want an end to this thing happening to you - you don’t deserve the man in front of you.

Having known you for so long, Isaac can already see it on your face, he already anticipated it.

“I love you,” He spoke.

Absolutely no room for arguments, “I won’t leave you.”

You felt Isaac’s hands rest on your hips as you withdrew yours from his hold and tried to stop and wipe as many tears as you could with the heel of your hands. He let you lean your head on his shoulder, the feel of his lips placing a comforting kiss to your ear should’ve given your heart a little leap but it didn’t.

“How much longer will you tell me that before you finally get tired?” You did not mean to say it out loud, you hiccupped once your tears finally settled down with your head and heart.

“Never,” Isaac said as he pushed you away a little to look at you, cupping your face in his warm hands to make you look up at him, a glint of playfulness present. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You could only sigh and give a soft smile.

“You’re too good for me, Isaac.”

Bringing your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles, he let them go before cupping your face again and leaned down to plant a kiss on your forehead, then your nose and lastly a chaste kiss on your lips.

“You deserve good things, Y/N.”

You deserve them after everything you went through. Isaac gave that smile he reserved only for you when he pulled away.

Lying back down, Isaac pulled you closer to him before pulling the covers up just below your chin.

“We’ll be okay, remember?” Isaac reminded you of the words you said to him when he asked you a year ago.

You did not miss the way he said ‘we.’ You did remember what he told you, that you were in this together - you’re it for me.

“I remember,” you answered, curling as close as you can to his side. The tip of your nose resting against the warm skin of his neck as he rest his chin on top of your head, arms tightening around you before they relaxed.

~

Feedbacks are always appreciated! Especially since I miss writing. But again, I won't be doing much writing anymore since I've somewhat lost touch with both my imagines blogs. I might just rewrite/refurbish some of my old imagines/drabbles.

Again, thank you so much for those who stuck by this imagines blog (and for Brett as well). You don't know how much I appreciate it, again, I'm sorry for not being active (read more here)

[heartcal]

distant; c.h.

it’s finally here omg and being posted on time too (barely)!

this was an idea i started writing back in late 2015 (literally the first few paragraphs are from the old draft with some editing) and while cleaning up my drafts i decided to continue it since i liked it :^D

pairing: calum hood x reader (i tried to make it gender neutral so if i used pronouns while describing the reader, i apologize and feel free to let me know!)

summary: you feel like the relationship is deteriorating because he’s gotten distant. you want to bring it up with him, but how can you when he doesn’t realize something is wrong? and why does it invoke a hurtful argument when you voice your feelings?

warnings: none really other than some cursing, arguing, and cal’s kinda an ass sorry lol

genre: angst, very angtsy 

wc: 2,645

my masterlist!

The candle flickered on the coffee table as the sound of rain hitting the roof was prominent. Total silence engulfed you as you finally made up your mind. Your thoughts were running wild for at least the past two hours as you went through numerous scenarios on how he’d react.

Calum had been acting different ever since he came home from tour. It felt like he was distancing himself from you as he began to hang out with his friends right as he got the time off. He already planned visits to his family, which were coming up very soon. He would text you, but they’d only be a couple of words or no more than four sentences a day. At first, you believed it was because he was tired from tour, and honestly who wouldn’t be tired if they had been on a tour bus and planes for almost a year with minimal breaks?

You understood his profession and what comes along with it, you really do.

But when you saw fan pictures or paparazzi pictures of your boyfriend having a hell of a time, obviously without you, it hurt.

You’re not clingy at all; you want him to have a lot of fun considering his age and, due to his fame, he can’t do a lot of the stuff you and other non-famous people can do. You’re not clingy at all, but you would appreciate some one-on-one time with him, especially now that he’s back from tour and soon would be promoting yet another album.

You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down and bring forth your final thoughts on the situation. A break-up is the last thing you want to do. You want to work out whatever is happening between you two, talk it out, and straighten out any knots within the relationship. You don’t want to throw away the past two and a half years, and possibly the five years of friendship.

When you two got together it didn’t come as a surprise to those close to you. The guys were waiting for it to happen, and when it did they didn’t even bat an eye. Your family already thought the two of you were dating, while Calum’s family let out a sigh of relief when the news came out because they saw how happy you made him as a friend.

It started as a test; to see if this is what you want and if it feels right. It did, more than it should if you had to be honest. It almost scared you just how normal it felt to be with him, and the same can be said for him. You had minimal arguments, minimal disagreements; the good outweighed the bad.

But the honeymoon phase can only last so long.

The first time he went on tour when you got together, it was a promotional tour. He wasn’t gone for a long time but he did travel often. That left little to no time to talk, text, or facetime. When he was able to contact you, it was short, but he managed to make it worth it with sweet words and words of encouragement from you.

The second time was a domestic promotional tour. He had asked you to join him, and after getting the OK to work remotely from your boss, you agreed to join him. It was almost like a vacation for you, even if Calum was gone most of the day. On his days off, or when he had part of the day off, it was spent with you alone or with the guys plus you and their significant others.

The third tour was when things started to dwindle. Six months after their third album was released, they went on tour and contact was hard to get. You joined him for a month or two, but after leaving to get back to work, it began to feel like the first time he went on tour. Towards the end of the tour he frequently contacted you, stating that he was, “stressed from the constant traveling,” and he had a hard time keeping up with what day it was.

You didn’t think about it much. Touring like that can strain anyone, amateur or pro. But what you couldn’t understand was how he behaved after the tour. After the first two tours, it was fine, but after tour number three you noticed how distant he would get. Ignoring calls and texts, but updating social media at any time of day and night. It struck you as odd, but he eventually came around with an apology and lots of makeup dates.

Now after tour number four, he’s as distant as ever. You gave him some space but he never came around. It’s been two and a half weeks since you’ve had proper contact.

Running over what you want to say to him in your head, you miss the knocks on your front door. You also miss the sound of your lock turning and the door opening.

“There you are,” You jump at that, turning towards the front door with a hand on your heart.

“What—how did you get in?” You stumble, gone are the thoughts you had previously.

Calum holds his right hand up, his set of keys and key chains jingling as he shakes his hand lightly. He has a small smile on as he speaks, “You gave me a copy, remember?”

You stare blankly at him, recalling the time when you finally moved out of the apartment you shared with an old friend and their partner. You were so happy that you found a place to live on your own, closer to work and closer to Calum. You made him a copy so that he knew he was welcome (and also for safety reasons).

You nod with a hum in response, your eyes moving to the painting a few feet away from him.

If he notices your behavior, he doesn’t mention it as he puts his keys on the hook next to your while taking off his shoes (something you nagged him about since the living room had carpeting).

You knew you had to bring it up. It was sitting on your tongue but your brain couldn’t form the words and sentences that you had previously thought of.

He sighs out as he takes a seat next to you on your couch, his right arm stretched behind you on the back of the couch while his left arm rested on the arm.

You sat stiff, not leaning back or into him no matter how much you craved it. Rather than giving in, you were more focused on the anger starting to bubble up inside of you. How can he act like nothing is wrong after ignoring you for almost three weeks?

“You’re quiet tonight,” he retracts his arm from the back of the couch and moves his hand to your forehead, “You feeling okay?”

When he brings his other hand up to his own forehead, you smack his arm away.

You scoff, letting your anger show, “Really, Calum?”

His puzzled look pushes you over and you stand up.

“What?” He asks as his eyes follow you as you head to the window.

Taking a deep breath and staring out at the city below, you realize that it’s now or never. Releasing the breath as a sigh, you turn towards him.

“Is something wrong?” He questions again.

“I know that tour takes a lot out of you,” you begin, willing yourself to bring your eyes up to meet his, “but you’ve been distant—more than usual. I know you want some time to yourself after touring, and I give you the time, but I can’t help but feel ignored Calum.”

Calum stands with a frown, bringing his hands up to his head before running them down his face with a sigh. His mouth opens to say something but nothing comes out. He stands in front of his seat on the couch, hands on his hips and shoulders slumped. He wants to say something, wants to tell you that he’s not ignoring you, but he can’t bring himself to say so.

“I’ve seen the pictures of you out with your friends. I’m happy you’re spending time with them, that you’re out there having fun because I know you haven’t seen them in so long. And your family, too. But I would like to spend time with you before you head out again.”

“I spent a lot of time with you before I left,” he mumbles, taking a few steps towards you.

“I know-” you hold your hand up to stop him from getting closer, “but you also spent plenty of time with your friends.”

He takes another step towards you, ignoring your signal. His body language shows that he doesn’t want to argue; his steps are small, head tilted only slightly, his eyes are staring intently at you.

It’s silent. Your breathing picks up as you hold back frustrated tears, which causes Calum’s own breathing to falter. He moves his jaw to help ease the tension he feels – a tick you know he picked up from a tour crew member – and shakes his hands as if he was trying to rid them of something.

He inhales, eyes on the floor at his feet, “I feel like we spend too much time together.”

Ouch. His words had a sharp impact, like a punch to the gut when you least expect it. The kind of heart-dropping, breathless pain.

“You think—do you think I’m clingy?” The word leaves a bad taste in your mouth because you felt that you were far from it.

“That’s not what I said—,” he stops, taking in his lower lip with a hand ruffling the hair on his head, “—that’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“But that’s what you’re implying,” you accuse with narrow eyes.

He shakes his head, growing upset with how this night is turning out. He came over to spend time with you, knowing that when comes back from visiting his family he will have only a couple more days of rest before putting all his focus on the new album.

“Look,” he sighs and sits on the edge of the couch with his head in his hands, “all I’m saying is, I wanted to spend some time with my friends since I don’t see them as often as I see you.”

Your jaw tightens, “I understand that, but what about our relationship?”

“What about it?”

“It doesn’t feel like a relationship anymore,” you’re blunt, straight to point out how you feel.

He scoffs, “Cut the bullshit.”

Your speechless, watching him stand up and walk to the other side of the living room. The rain outside has gotten louder with an occasional rumble in the distance, but you’re focused on how he brushed off how you felt like it wasn’t important.

“Just because I don’t spend all my time with you doesn’t mean we’re not in a relationship,” he says, resting his left arm on the bookshelf against the wall, “I have other relationships to manage besides ours.”

“You barely manage this one, Calum,” a tear threatens to spill over your lower lid, “Two and a half weeks of little to no contact, and you suddenly show up to my apartment as if everything is fine? I sat here wondering if something happened on tour that was making you this distant, but from what I’ve seen on Twitter and Instagram…you’re doing just fine. You’re smiling, you’re laughing—you’re seemingly your usual self. So why did all my texts get left on read, no response at all, especially when I just wanted to know that you were okay?”

He sucks his teeth, a humorless laugh leaving his lips as he turns to look at you, “You’re overreacting.”

Another jab to the heart, and this time you let the tears freely fall down your cheeks.

He stands up straight and licks his lips, eyes dancing around the room. They bounce over photos of you with your friends, family, and him. In the back of his mind, he knows this is too much. He knows his words may be overstepping and hurtful, but he can’t see where you’re coming from.

“I’m entitled to my own life, just like you. I have friends I want to hang out with, just like you. Sometimes I need time to myself away from you. Maybe you were right earlier, maybe you are clingy.”

He watches as your tears fall, the pained expression you wear didn’t go unnoticed but he does choose to overlook it.

He cuts you off when your mouth begins to open, “Maybe another thing you were right about before, this doesn’t feel like a relationship, right?”

He rolls his shoulders, jaw clenched as he walks to the front door. Your eyes are covered with unshed tears, previous tears leaving trails down your cheeks and nose. He sees them, there’s a pounding in his brain that’s trying to take control so he can go over and console you with unlimited apologies. But he doesn’t.

Calum grabs his keys, taking off your key and tossing it to your feet. He slides his shoes on, his movements rough as his breathing gets heavier. His eyes reach yours and those dark brown eyes you grew to love have now become hurtful, clouded by an unrecognizable emotion.

His hand blindly reaches for the lock, turning it before lowering to the handle, “If this relationship doesn’t feel like one, let’s end it, yeah?”

Without another word, he opens the door and leaves. Your eyes shed the built-up tears as they fall towards the spare key on the ground.

You don’t know how it came to this. You had your mind made up of how you wanted the conversation to go, what to do if worst comes to worst and how to repair the relationship itself. You weren’t expecting him to come over. Once he walked through that door all your thoughts evaporated and you were left grasping for any remaining thoughts.

You kneel to pick up the key, but your knees are too weak to stand back up. The key glares at you, reminding you painfully of what once was.

But behind your front door stands Calum, a racing mind and pounding heart. He stares at the floor and it finally dawns on him. Mindlessly he’s ended up outside, the warm air of your apartment lobby did not prepare him for the chilly rain outside. By the time he’s in his car, he’s soaked and he’s uncomfortable.

He doesn’t start the car, instead, he reaches for the steering wheel and grips it tightly. The emotions wash over him and the tears slide down as fast as they formed. He shakily inhales, followed by a sob and a sniffle.

The rain is heavy, muting his sobs to his own ears. A sharp crack of thunder makes him jump, and after a few more sniffles and constant wiping of his cheeks, he starts his car and drives back home.

It’s late when you go to bed. The numbing pain in your chest ruins your chances of a good night’s sleep, but selflessly you wished Calum a goodnight before attempting to sleep.

Calum sleeps on his couch, too tired to bring himself to his bed but too hurt to sleep. His eyes drift to his phone on the coffee table when it vibrates; a message from a groupchat talking about an outing scheduled for tomorrow. His sore eyes shut and he turns away from the table.

In the darkness, he sees your pained expression, the way you shrunk as he threw those harsh words at you. It’s an image that will be imprinted forever in his mind, and he regrets everything.

~~~

part two!

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

There is a light at the end of the tunnel

Hello, Stuck. Sorry, I don’t know your real name.

I wrote this long ass post to bring some light into the fandom and between the CSs, and I hope you can post it? I’m new in the Tumblr world, but not in the 5H fandom. I don’t quite know how it works yet and, for the moment, I only know your blog and those of @emisonme, @karlaswine, @sun-to-my-luna, @underthatimpression, and @mentesimploria because, in one way or another, you’re all connected to each other. I just wanted to tell you guys how much I appreciate every single one of you, the passion you have, and the hope you keep alive among those who, like me, love the girls. Also, the patience you guys have, especially against the haters, is admirable. I love the fact that you keep going. Because this is your sacred place, as it should be.

This is the very first time I’ve ever done anything like this. I’m what can be defined as a ‘silent fan’. I never commented on anything in the girls’ posts, not even on the fan accounts I follow. I don’t have Twitter. I have Facebook but it’s like I don’t have it because I don’t use it. I have Wattpad (obviously). I recently registered here on Tumblr, and I have Instagram. That’s what I use. It’s the only app along with YouTube that I use daily to keep up with the rest of the world. Especially the American part of the world. I’m Italian, but I speak American English well, and I apologize in advance if my lazy ass hasn’t noticed possible grammatical errors. I saw that a lot of you are into this stuff, so I thought I’d add it just because. I’m a Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, and Virgo rising.

I’m gonna turn 29 on December 22, and this is a BIG fuck off to all the people who have attacked you lately for your age. This is personal information that I give freely to make ignorant and small-minded people understand that, in this context especially, age is irrelevant. As you, little fucker who hides behind a computer to attack people just to feel stronger, have a life, we have it too. Like you, we have a life, a job, friends, etc. We also have passions. Passions that yes, my dear haters, also include shipping people. I don’t know why in your stupid brain we’re too old to ship people we love and to give opinions about it. I didn’t know it was something reserved only for those who still smell like mommy’s milk. But anyway…

I became aware of 5H existence just before summer 2015 thanks to ‘Worth It’. Being Italian, however, I had no idea who they were, and to be honest, I didn’t go searching for them. Randomly one day then, I ran into Camren on YouTube. I can’t remember which video I was watching, but I know for sure it was about ‘Heya/Brittana’ (Heather Morris and Naya Rivera/Brittany and Santana, my very first hard LGBT ship). And among the suggested videos, there they are. As ridiculous as it sounds, and although I liked them as soon as I saw them, I didn’t go searching for them. I did it when ‘Work from Home’ came out though. From there, I connected that they were the same ‘Worth It’ group and the same two girls I liked from those YouTube videos. I had officially become a fan. I was screwed. Screwed because, I’d officially entered one of the most messed up and yet most beautiful fandoms ever.

As I initially said, this is the very first time I’ve ever done anything like this. But after the recent events, seeing how many people gave up, it made me a little angry and gave me the strength to speak for the first time. I thought the first time would’ve been through the fanfiction I’ve been working on for over two years, but no. Lauren and her beautiful mouth had to terrorize, disappoint, panic, and make angry 80% of CS, thus fueling the hatred of all the other fandom towards us. So I decided to speak now. Maybe, just maybe, this very long ass post of mine is gonna help struggling CS. Maybe, just maybe, it’s gonna make them reason and bring them to their senses.

So. This, as I think you’ve understood, is about Lauren and what she said in the podcast. This is a reminder of the Laucy situation. These are things we already know and that I want to remind you of because apparently, my lovely fellows CS, either you have a short-term memory, or Lauren has the power to create amnesia in people’s minds and I knew nothing about it. Surely this power of hers didn’t work on me and a few others.

Oh and, before starting: 1) You may disagree with me. It’s normal to have different opinions. 2) You can search for information such as dates, easily on the internet. 3) I’m gonna use nicknames on PRs for fun. That doesn’t mean I hate them. I have my reasons for dislike each one of them as people, but I can assure you it has nothing to do with the fact that they were or are the Camren beards. An example to make you understand what I mean is Ty. I’m a huge Ari fan and I’ve been listening to ‘safety net’ non-stop for two days straight. I really dislike Ty as a person, but I separate the art from the artist.

Okay, that said, I can start.

Lauren said: “I knew I was queer because I fell in love with my best friend when I was like 15.” – “Her and I started to have a physical connection when I was 15.”

Lauren and Lucid Vivisectionist met when L moved to Carrollton in 7th grade. Lucille moved back to Puerto Rico in February 2012, returning to visit Miami occasionally (this explains the fetus pictures with Lucy and Camren at L’s house). In February 2012, Lauren was 15, Camila 14, and Lucy 16. And who did Lauren meet when she was 15? Oh yeah, Camila. C and L did the first phase of the audition, the ‘cattle call’, on May 1, 2012 in Greensboro, North Carolina. Audition where Camila took courage to speak at the (“Oh my God that girl is) literally so beautiful” girl from which she felt intimidated by starting that adorable brief conversation “Hi, I like your shirt”, “Thanks. I like your jacket” just before it was her turn to get in for her audition. In May 2012, Lauren and Camila were both 15 years old. Lauren and Camila saw each other again for the first time on July 25th, two months later, in Miami on the first day of boot camp, and it was Lauren herself who went to Camila: “You’re the Cuban girl!”. In July 2012, Lauren was 16 and Camila was 15.

Lauren said: “She came back into my life when I was 18. I was on tour and I was in my room in a hotel somewhere, and she called me.” Let me explain to you why I think this is true.

Lauren and Luxy reconnected with each other after Lucy’s car accident that took place on May 15, 2015. Lauren was really 18 in May 2015, and we can rule out The Reflection Tour dates because it started on February 27, 2015, and ended April 6, 2015. We can also rule out these other show dates that 5H did: April 11 in Jackson Township, New Jersey - April 13 at Live! with Kelly and Michael in New York - April 19 Lauren was at Coachella with Keana, Britt, and other friends - April 22 at the Worldwide Radio Summit in Hollywood - April 25 at Radio Disney Music Awards 2015 in Los Angeles - May 8 at Channel 93.3 Summer Kickoff 2015 in Chula Vista, San Diego - May 9 at Wango Tango 2015 in Carson, Los Angeles (May 9, rumors about Camila and Louis Tomlinson just because paparazzi believed they were together when Louis was actually together with Liam outside the Project Club L.A., and C who was at the club next door) - May 15 at KDWB Radio Show in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

The rest of their program and possible date: May 16 at Kiss Concert 2015 in Mansfield, Massachusetts - May 19 at Dancing with the Stars in Los Angeles - May 30 at G-A-Y in London (rumors about Lauren and Louis Tomlinson this time, born because 5H went to Libertine nightclub with Louis and Niall) - May 31 at Britain’s Got More Talent in London - June 2 at Capital FM in Birmingham, England - June 5 at Good Morning Britain in London - June 6 at Capital FM Summertime Ball 2015 in London - June 12 at Aloha Stadium in Honolulu, Hawaii - June 14 at LA Pride 2015 - June 18 at Jimmy Kimmel Live in Los Angeles - June 20 at B96 Pepsi Summer Bash 2015 in Bridgeview, Illinois - June 23 at San Diego County Fair 2015 - 28 June at Show Of The Summer 2015 in Hershey, Pennsylvania - July 10 at Rockefeller Plaza in New York. July 15, 2015, beginning of Reflection: The Summer Tour.

June 27, 2015 Lauren turned 19, and do you guys remember the events of those days? Because I do.

On June 24, 2015, Lauren celebrated her birthday in advance at the famous sushi restaurant ‘Katsuya’. Among the guests were the girls, her mom Clara, some friends, including Jill (the same Jill/Jillian Gutowitz who worked with Zack Sang and who 5H met on April 22, 2015, at the Worldwide Radio Summit, which lasted for three days but they were present for two: 22 and 23. The same Jill who wrote the article for AfterEllen on January 25, 2016, about her experiences with women who denied their sexuality. Remember the story of Lauren Jordan, right?), and Noah Benardout (may he rest in peace). Still no Lucia, not even on the days when Lauren returned to Miami to celebrate with her family before resuming the program from the 28. As I already said, The Reflection Summer Tour began on July 15, 2015, and Lucy’s first public reappearance took place on one of the tour dates, that is, July 27 at Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

From that moment on, we saw Lucille appear on multiple occasions in hops through time. After the July 27th date, we saw her during the trip to Hawaii with Lauren and Keana in September, followed by the concert that the girls had on October 10 in the Bahamas, where they stayed with their families and friends for a few days. After the Bahamas, the mess happened between 5H because they found out about Camila’s departure from the group which initially should’ve been immediate, but for which they fought and gained another year. That, was also the time when Laucy signed their PR contract. As we know from Lauren herself, that was the worst and darkest time for her. That was the beginning of her numbness.

On October 23, they were on their way to Italy and Lauren wrote on her dark diary, the one shown to us in Episode 8 of her Attunements. On October 24, they arrived in Milan for the MTV Europe Music Awards 2015 occurred on October 25, and on October 28, in Madrid instead, there was the interview with Alyson Eckmann, the journalist Camila flirted with while Lauren was sitting right next to her.

Going forward, in November we have:

- Rumors about Lauren and Julius Dein (his friend who is a YouTube magician).

-The release of IKWYDLS including the rumors about Camila and Shawn and Michael Clifford (who was already in the picture) who were ‘vying for her’.

- Beginning of Lauren’s coming out plan which included: 1) The release of The Vamps’ album on November 23rd, that is, a week after the release of IKWYDLS, and which included the track ‘I Found A Girl’. Joe O'Neill, the manager of The Vamps, liked that famous tweet. Despite the efforts to make us believe that Bleahren (sorry for the Italian pun I made here, but ‘bleah’ in Italian is equivalent to the ‘eww’ to indicate something gross, and therefore Bleah-Ren) Brauren was real and that the girl involved was Lucille and not Camila, they’ve miscalculated since Lauren and Brad ‘dated’ in 2014 when Lucy had not yet returned into Lauren’s life. But since the album and consequently the song came out on November 23, 2015, they tried to manipulate people’s minds as usual. 2) Jill’s article that served to connect and more or less ‘confirm’ the story between this Jordan and her childhood friend, Lauren-Lucy.

- December: completion of the 7/27 album + Dina LaPolt’s entry + renegotiation of the contracts (mostly DNA’s contracts) + FIFTH HARMONY MUSIC, INC. created by LAND on December 21 to prepare for the transfer of the 5H trademark, the FIFTH HARMONY PARTNERSHIP, of which they became owners from April 27, 2016 + change of management from Faculty Management: Jared Paul and Janelle Lopez, to Maverick Management: Larry Rudolph, Dan Dymtrow, and Tara Beikae. [All things that were possible ONLY THANKS to the exit of C from the group]

- January 2016, we have Lauren and Lucrezia who came back from Colombia to then taking a road trip for Lucy’s birthday week.

- Jill’s article came out and coincidentally, by pure chance, exactly two days later, on January 27, 2016, Camila and Dinah were hacked.

- On March 9, 2016, Lauren, Normani, Andrea, Dinah, and Keana went to pierce their ears, or rather, Laurmainah pierced their ears, mama Dre and Keana just accompanied them. During her turn, Lauren asked Keana to take her phone to make a video. In the meantime, Mani was filming Lauren, and again by pure chance, Keana, who was in the heart of the frame, took Lauren’s phone as she’d asked, and both the lock screen and the home screen portrayed a picture of Lucania during a photoshoot. Same picture Lucy herself posted on Instagram on April 10th to leave no doubt.

- April 24, 2016, Coachella together.

- Luciana went with 5H in London, in May, during the promotion of the 7/27 album. (+ Camren video of May 28, 2016)

- She was present during the start of the tour in South America on June 26th (in the evening during the concert, L danced Big Bad Wolf for her, but that’s not the famous video, that was on September 5) and 27th to celebrate L’s birthday together (picture of the 27th of them in Buenos Aires).

- June 27, 2016, on L’s birthday, Jill posted a picture with L from the birthday dinner of the year before, further confirming the story of ‘Jordan’.

- August 1, the national girlfriend day, L posted a picture of her and Lucy.

- From August 12 to 21, Lucy was with them. The night after the concert on the 13th in Rochester Hills, Michigan, videos in which Lucilla appeared during Lauren Fuller’s birthday celebration at the hotel for dinner. On the 14th in Noblesville, Indiana, during Gonna Get Better and Big Bad Wolf Lauren smiled in Lucy’s direction who was in the audience. On the 18th in Virginia Beach, Virginia, a fan met Laucy in a movie theater restroom, taking a selfie with Lauren (C posted a picture of her in the dark with the words of Bad Things “don’t think that I can explain it” the same night).

- On September 4 and 5 Lucippe returned. On the 5th in Houston, Texas, the famous ‘super HD’ video took place in which Lauren danced Big Bad Wolf for Lucy, even pointing to her during her verse. [On September 6, Midland, Texas, during the Q&A, Lauren wore the same dress that Lucy was wearing to the concert the night before, and at the same time, she sat next to C and got jealous when C complimented a fan by sending her flying kisses. Ahh… The irony]

Now. Let’s move on to the part of the podcast where Lauren explains about the kiss with Lucza at her uncle and aunt’s wedding, how her aunt “super innocently” posted the pictures on Facebook that her “unreal invasive fans” found and posted, how Perez Hilton outed her to the world by posting an article with those pictures, how she did nothing for a week, and that after thinking “Ok, it happened. People know. What am I gonna do?”, she wrote that letter against Trump as her own way of coming out.

On November 4, 2016, Lauren and Lucynda did the ‘famous’ photoshoot in New Orleans called ‘Bare With Me’. Lauren flew to NOLA right after Halloween, got back to Miami to vote, then returned to New Orleans on the 10th along with her family for the wedding. Lucianna was also with her on the 10th for the rehearsal/bowling with all of Lauren’s relatives. Meanwhile Orange Trumpeter was elected on the 8th, and many celebrities were preparing to write a letter through Billboard against him and his supporters. Labels and management saw it as a perfect opportunity to get her to come out also considering how much Lauren has always been vocal on the subject, and THEY contacted Billboard to get her to participate in exchange of the exclusive of her coming out. All that was missing was the evidence to make sure that there had been no connection with Camila, and that was the reason for the kiss at the wedding on the 11th.

On November 13, the wedding photographer posted those pictures on his website, including the one of the kiss. And I’m sorry, Lolo, I love you but, really? Who are you kidding? The pictures didn’t start spreading because her ‘unreal invasive fans’ found them on her aunt’s Facebook page where she’d posted them ‘super innocently’. The pictures started spreading after the photographer posted them! And you know what’s even more funny? That to see those pictures on the website, you needed an access password. So what are you saying here, Lo? That your ‘unreal invasive fans’ were so good, to even have hacked their way into the website for pictures they didn’t even know existed? It wasn’t your team, was it? Oh, okay. My bad.

Sarcasm aside. The pictures started to spread, Perez tweeted about it on the 14th, and in the meantime Lauren had time to write the letter that was approved by the labels and sent to Billboard (on the 14th), who approved it a couple of days after it was sent (on the 16th), and which they then published it in the article two days later (on the 18th). In all of this, on November 15, 2016, the girls all went to Epic’s party. Since we know very well that most of the cases of coming out as bisexual in the industry made by a female celebrity occur in succession with the connection with a guy, that night there was the PR proposal between Typo Dolour Signal and Lauren that he obviously accepted, and in fact, he was there that night at that party too (Picture of C with a tear mark on her cheek).

Now, the icing on the cake of the Laucy’s PR: Nicole Cartolano. Nicole is a friend of Lecy’s with whom she had already worked together and who also posted pictures of Lauren on November 17 and 22, 2016, one on December 31, 2016, together with Marian Hill taken backstage after Lauren’s performance with them on the 30th, the night before, for the Snow Globe Festival in South Lake Tahoe, California, and the one of Laucy (with the piñata) on January 10, taken the same night to celebrate Lucilia’s birthday at midnight and that Lauren also used to post it for wish her a happy birthday. That was the last public interaction between the two. *Slow entry of Tympans Dollhouse Signalized in the picture from January 4, 2017, thanks to that tweet*.

On January 21, 2017, Lauren and Lucy were at the same Women’s March, but separately (single), and we haven’t seen them together anymore. LuBYE. On March 22, 2017, both ‘Bare With Me’ and the interview article Nicole did with MTV News (she confirmed that Laucy had been together by having an on-again, off-again for years and also said a lot of other bullshit like the fact that the girls were nervous because they didn’t know how their parents would’ve responded) came out. On August 13, 2018, Nicole officially apologized to Lucy for being angry with her for posting the pictures and therefore for having outed her and for having taken part in the MTV interview without their permission. There was also the screenplay made by Nicole’s mom to make everything even more true.

Bullshit on bullshit on bullshit. Number 1, Lauren herself confirmed in this podcast that her parents knew about her, and said how much she loved Lucre’s ‘I’m out and proud’ part.

Number 2, Nicole posted a preview of the pictures on March 18, 2017, so if she really wanted to stop her before the publication on the 22nd, she would’ve had time to do so.

Number 3, Lucita came out publicly on her own with that Spanish post on Instagram on November 20, 2016, saying in summary that she was anything but straight because she didn’t want to label herself (she did it years later by saying she was a lesbian).

Number 4, as Lusia also confirmed in that post where Nicole’s mom left that comment, Nicole signed a non-disclosure agreement form. If she had actually violated it without having had a release and written consent form, she would’ve been sued.

Number 5, if Luciferase really wanted to have that conversation in private with Nicole’s mom, she might very well have done so. She could’ve contacted her and answered her IN PRIVATE for real, and not via IG where EVERYONE saw and took the side of poor, poor Luckless.

Number 6, the biggest proof that shows the hypocrisy of all this, Lucasta continued to work with Nicole. Their last work dates back to November 25, 2019.

Okaay, sure… sure, because it was normal for her to continue working with the person who outed her, wasn’t it? People’s lies never cease to amaze me. For that matter, Nicole also posted a picture of their ‘adventure’ as they made their way to the photoshoot location on November 1, 2017, and continued to wish them both a happy birthday with posts every year.

And lastly, on June 6, 2020, we have the Lucerne’s video leaked (+ old pictures and videos of 5H) where she burned pictures of Lauren and of the two of them together in 2017, accompanied by the tweets occurred two days later, in which she explained that she was hacked and that she burned the pictures for a closure. Then, exactly 20 days later, that is on June 26, 2020, the PAPER Magazine article of Lauren’s interview came out. What a coincidence! In that article, Lauren explained, along with other things, that she’d been in love with her best friend for 7 years.

Lauren, honey, the maths, the maths… If according to your words you fell in love with her at 15, got together with her at 18, and broken up at 20, how can these be 7 years? It’s 5 years… And as if it wasn’t enough, still according to your words, after 1 year and 8 months (from mid-May 2015 to mid-January 2017), 2 months of which public because of the wedding pictures, of the relationship you wanted at all costs, “all in” and “now we’re gonna be in this relationship”, you broke up with her because she was really toxic, and after less than a month, you started dating an even more toxic person without the proper time to heal?? How do you expect me to believe you? And I’m putting aside the fact that I know they’re both PR relationships. I’m speaking out of logic. How? How can I believe you? How does this make any sense?

Personally, yes, I believe Lauren and Lucy have a past. Lauren’s first kiss was when she was 13 (8th grade) with her boyfriend at the time, Dominic, but I think Lucy was her first kiss with a girl. And I think it happened when she was 15, but in 2011, so long before Lucy left. Lauren dated Paul Martinez from June 4, 2011, to the end of July (around 23/24). From after Paul, until her very first PR at X-Factor, Keaton Stromberg, she was single. I truly believe that before she met Camila, Lauren and Lucy did everything Lauren said. I really believe Lauren experimented with her in secret, but I don’t believe in anything else she said at all.

This is my opinion. And in my opinion, Lauren always knew she was queer, and Lucy was the first with whom she could experience the attraction and the feelings towards girls she had always felt and concealed deep inside herself. But they were friends. Just friends. Friends who messed around and experimented together in secret given the environment that surrounded them. Lucy then returned to live in Puerto Rico and they simply drifted apart because of the distance and Lauren’s busy schedule with 5H. When she came back into Lauren’s life, they rekindled their friendship. Just that. Also because, Camila, hello? Camila entered Lauren’s heart the same year Lucy left and never get out of it. Not to mention that Lucy had a girlfriend, Sarah Scott Narcise, before getting together with Nicole Marie Rendón in March 2017. I honestly think that Lucy was also giving advice to Lauren about her relationship with Camila, and I also think that now they really aren’t friends anymore for something we don’t know about, even though I have my theories… But anyway. Lauren needed a beard to be able to come out, Lucy needed visibility for her modeling career and, at the time, also for her music which, however, never saw the light of day. The labels approved because they would’ve done anything to keep their chosen one out of the gay light. Camila also approved. Boom, PR.

I don’t believe all the other bullshit she said during the podcast. Because if they’d been true, they would’ve made logical sense. A sense they’ve been trying, and failing, to give for years. If Lauren really didn’t want to come out, she wouldn’t have done a photoshoot with Lucy a week before the wedding with the intention of using that same photoshoot to come out. She would not have kissed Lucy in a public place during the wedding pictures in front of a professional photographer hired for the event, knowing full well that those pictures would eventually have been published by the bride and groom, her aunt and uncle, and the photographer himself. If she wanted so badly a picture of her kissing her girlfriend, drunk or not, she would’ve taken her fucking phone and take selfies. It wasn’t the fans’ or Perez’s fault. It was the management that was following the plan.

And I’m supposed to, what exactly? Forget all these things, things that have been proofed multiple times in the past, because Lauren, or Camila, or management, or labels, or their contracts, must continue with their stupid narrative? Because Camila must continue to look straight and continue to look in love with Shalt Menstruated because the señorito is about to release his documentary and his album? Because Camila’s movie is about to come out? Because Lauren’s own album is about to be released and because the subject matter of her female-pronounced songs must only and exclusively be related to Lucy? (Although I think her album will be out next year. I think a song with female pronunciation is coming out soon. And no, I’m sorry, I don’t think it’s Burning)

Guys, come on…

Think about it. She used Lucy as a shield to tell part of her story with Camila that happened in 2014. It all fits. Even the story told through songs from Camila’s cocky POV, including ‘Like Friends Do’, ‘Eyes on You’, ‘Cleopatra’, ‘Leave for Good’, and a couple from her last album like ‘Should’ve Said It’ and ‘Feel It Twice’.

I understand why many of you have been hurt by this podcast and by Lauren herself. I understand why a lot of you are angry about the things she said. I see you, I understand, I really do. And everyone is free to feel whatever they want, I’m not saying otherwise. But I really don’t understand why you’re hiding or why you’re abandoning the ship. Authors who don’t wanna write anymore. Accounts closed. Names changed. Hope lost. This, all this, makes me angry and hurt. Because you fell for it. And you know why you fell for it? Because Lauren changed her approach. Leaving aside the part just before when she said: “Even when I talk about it, and I don’t talk about it because I’ve learned to just ignore it because-” and there, I swear I had to pause because I burst out laughing, and I was like: “Bitch, you’re the one who pulled this out of your ass out of nowhere right this second, what are you saying?”. She went on by saying, and she knows us so well because of this: “I just chose to ignore it at a certain point because getting angry to them would it mean that it was real and validate it more for them”.

And it’s true. This non-angry approach of hers, worked like a charm. Lauren’s older, she’s more mature than before. Although she was very nervous, she managed to explain everything calmly. The fact that she was emotional and almost cried in many parts, it really gave an extra boost to what she tried to sell. And I’m not saying she faked almost crying. Hell, no. That was super true and hard for her. I’m saying though, that it’s really easy to manipulate people’s minds, and Lauren used her real pain, the real suffering she has gone through over the years to tell this charade. That’s why it seemed so real. And I’m supposed to fall for that shit just because that’s what they’ve wanted for years, right? Convenient much?

Guys, please. You’re smarter than that, use those beautiful brains. For example, the fact that Lauren said: “I was queer, but she was not”, wrong as you want it to be, and “Camila and I were just really good friends at that time”, yeah, sure, Jan. Doesn’t the very fact that she used the past tense make you realize that it was done to completely detach herself from her IN THE PRESENT? Everything she said was for something. Everything had a purpose. And the goal is always the same. Make us stop shipping ‘em. Putting a label on C only served the Shoestoremila purpose, nothing else. And those were words that came out of the mouth of the one who says she doesn’t like labeling people. The same one who was pissed that someone had outed her before she wanted to. Do you really think she’s that hypocritical?

The fact that she put all the CS in the same box, especially when she talked about the Daddy situation, WAS DONE ON PURPOSE. She couldn’t fail to generalize because their purpose is, and will be for a long time to come, to kill Camren. That means the whole fandom. Not just invasive elements. But really all the CS. The purpose was to make us feel guilty. The purpose is to make us accept that it was never real, and since we care about them, to make us continue to support them individually and not as a couple, even though she knows that the real CS do it regardless. This, is called manipulation, guys.

Think about everything else too. The inconsistency. The holes in her story. The lack of explanations. And the fact that during the story of how it all happened, she jumped from one theme to another and therefore managed to deflect and not completely finish one before moving on to the other, doesn’t it make you understand that she didn’t want to give too many details? And when does that usually happen? She knew we’d analyze her. She knew she couldn’t say too much. When she talked about Lucy, she knew that WE know she was talking about Camila, and with too many details, it would also have been obvious to the others because WE would’ve pointed it out to everyone. I mean, it’s obvious enough in itself, imagine if she’d fed us more information that we would’ve compared in the timeline.

Please, guys. I know that it feels like something’s changed, but it’s not. It’s really not. I’m appealing to all of you. Open your eyes. Reason. I know many of you still have conflicting emotions and feelings, and that’s okay. If you’re still upset, if you still wanna cry, then cry. Do whatever helps you feel better because, especially after the haters have come to bite your asses, you’re entitled to feel the way you do. But please, please, don’t give up. If you give up, you just play their game. You just do them a favor. You guys had invested so much of your time, so much of your passion, so much of yourselves to just, give up. Think of all we’ve been through, especially those who’ve been in the fandom for years. Think about how happy Camren makes you. They were there for you when you needed them. When you were going through hard times. I know they’ve helped a lotta people.

And think about this too. Lauren herself said at the beginning of the podcast: “The news and the media are constantly spinning narratives for your clicks so they can make money”. And what do you think this podcast was for? It’s always the same shit. Have you not noticed how the very same news and media have ALL talked about them? Didn’t you notice how My Oh My magically returned into the charts? How 50ft surpassed the 9 million streams on Spotify? And you still have doubts?

This is instead for the CS who get often angry about their actions. I personally think it’s pointless to blame Lauren and Camila for every single thing they do that has been PLANNED for them. Especially Camila as far as Shonas is concerned. There’s a pattern here too. Lauren had her light PR with Lucia. Lauren then had her heavy PR with Typic Dole Sight while Camila had a light one with Eatchu. And now Camila’s having a heavy one. C’s one is heavier simply because they’re much more famous than PRen (Tyren) were. So, guys, be patient. There’s really no point in getting angry and blaming them. It’s a waste of energy. It’s useless to blame them if they’re gonna continue to do so over the years to come. They’re just still trying to get past their original contracts and survive in the industry at the same time. Sooner or later, I HOPE, they will be free to tell the truth or the truth will come out on its own.

Well, I’m done. Jeez, that was long, wasn’t it? But I hope it was worth it. I hope I’ve cleared your heads a little bit and instilled some hope again. I also hope I made you smile with all those nicknames and my sarcasm. I especially hope that wherever you are, you’re having a good day, and if not, then I hope it has improved at least a little bit with this post. And thank you so much, Stuck. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to use my voice for the first time publicly/virtually. You, above all, keep on being one of the lights and NEVER let them turn you off. I love you guys. Stay safe. Stay strong. Stay patient. With love, F.

I leave you with these two pearls:

Number 1. Lauren said something else too. She said: “Don’t trust me. Go research. Go look this shit up yourself”. I know she said it for a completely different context, but I found it really funny given the situation.

Number 2. This is a small scene that automatically created itself in my head as soon as I finished listening to Wonder. I titled it: The sad and short story of the making of ‘Wonder’.

Enjoy:

*on the phone*

Shawl Mendicant: “Hey, buddy. I know you were a huge Fifth Harmony fan and I know you love my fake girlfriend, so I was thinking… could you help me? You know, I need her to stay relevant, but to do that, I also need to release music and completely take all the credit from other people because, you know, the most I do is change a sentence or two in my style to make people think that I wrote all my songs.”

Sam Smith: “………okay?”

Shawnita Menorrhagia: “So, I was wondering, can I copy your homework? You can totally refuse if you want to, but I’m hoping to appeal to the love you have for 5H and Camila, and maybe help a friend out?”

Sam Smith: “Yeah, sure, you can copy my homework. Anything for my girls. Just, change it up a bit so it doesn’t sound too obvious you just copied it.”

Shonas Mended: “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. Thanks, man.” - *ends the call*

Sam Smith looking at the phone with an incredulous expression and one hand over his heart: “I came out as a non-binary, you insensitive asshole!”

Shoes Mentionable from the other room: “Cameeela! He said yes!” *reaching then Camila and Lauren in the living room where Lauren is lying with her head resting on Camila’s legs who’s running her fingers through her hair with one hand and holding the book that she’s reading with the other one* “You were right, all I had to do was mention you girls.”

Lauren chuckling and continuing to pet Cleo who’s lying at the foot of the couch with one hand: “Told you”, to then adding: “And please, I know you’re excited because of the news but keep your voice down”, continuing to caress Sofi’s head who’s sleeping on top of her with the other one.

Shapeless Mentality: “Oh, sorry.”

Camila without looking away from her book: “Sam’s really nice. I’m sure they would’ve said yes even without the need of mentioning us.”

Lauren: “Hmm, I’m not so sure about that, babe. Yes, they’re very nice, but we’re powerful in their minds, so it was an added incentive for them to say yes.”

Shaved Mentholated: “Who are they? Weren’t we talking about Sam?”

Camila who was giggling at her girlfriend’s words:

Lauren:

Sinu from the kitchen:

Cleo who was nibbling her toy:

Even Thunder, Leo, and Eugene from outside into the yard:

*the end*

Chon Mendable: ‘Wonder’ - Sam Smith: ‘One Last Song’

____

OMG I am speechless. I’m really still digesting this whole story because it’s amazing but I wanted to start by saying hello to you and telling you my name, my name is Marite. It is a pleasure to meet you dear friend. I don’t want to write too much because your words are much more important than mine but I wanted to thank you for trusting me and my blog to tell me your story. That side of the story that, being new and not having been a harmonizer from the beginning, I never learned. I intended to ask for more information about Laucy’s Timeline but what you have told is a gem. A gem that shows that the bastards of the industry cannot fool the fans because we pay attention to everything and it is not easy for us to fall for their shit. I think the power we fans have is so great that if we all came together, we could bring down this whole fucking fake empire that they have created. That said, Laucy’s story is surprising. As planned and how each person involved had to do their part on the chessboard. Incredible. Now that you tell me that story, I think it fits the one I wrote in my once upon a time post. Sure, yours is true and has everything that mine doesn’t. I have tried to keep this blog open for all who wish to come and air their ideas, their thoughts, their tea. And you dear friend, you have been one of the best so far. You’ve given us that support that the fandom so badly needed and I really appreciate it. I also appreciate your humor, the nicknames have been so hilarious and I’m still laughing. Thank you for daring to tell this part of the story and reopen the can of worms of a PR that right now resurfaces with that Lauren interview. With a purpose, it’s true. And something tells me that we will see much more very soon. Thank you for your support, my friend. And you know, you have my blog at your disposal for whatever you need. And if you need to talk or anything else. I greatly appreciate that we can continue to keep this ship afloat among ourselves. Among a group of intelligent people who have been hurt by someone we have always loved very much even though we know the reason for all that. We can’t give up now because if we do it like you say they will win and I personally don’t plan to indulge them in that. Thank you very much for all dear friend and I hope you have a nice day. I send you a hug and I hope you stay safe.

[sometimes-men-need-help-too]

What does modern feminism do that you don't agree with? This is genuine btw

A couple things before I start: 

- This is not meant to bash all the feminists out there unless they fit into what I’m saying. I know there are good feminists out there 

- When I say ‘you’ I’m not meaning you, I’m saying it in a general way 

-I hope I get my point across and it’s clear. I sometimes struggle with that 

Also I’m sorry this is so long and it’s in no particular order and I hope none of this comes across as being aggressive or anything

~~ 

A lot of my issues with the movement boils down to attitudes. To me, that is very telling of its true colors. And I do try not to necessarily judge an entire movement from just the bad people because I know that isn’t fair, although I do feel like the bad feminists have taken over the movement and end up drowning out the good voices and that’s why we hear more negativity than positivity. 

One thing that I have issue with the lack of respect towards those that disagree whether it’s with the movement itself or it’s a particular thing. For a movement that preaches about a woman’s choice, I don’t feel that really happens like it should. I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong here but depending on what the topic is I get a general impression like you’re not really supposed to disagree with what’s being side. You do and you might have someone lash out at you (that’s another point I have). Or if you say you’re anti feminist, you have people coming up with these reasons why they think you are; one being internalized misogyny  and you get called a pick-me which I find a bit insulting.  I should be able to have an opinion without someone assuming I’m trying to get a man’s attention or I can’t think for myself or I hate other girls. That isn’t it! Wouldn’t you think that is misogynistic? 

And if it’s not  internalized misogyny, then there are other factors; her being white (which usually then goes on to sound racist)  or it’s because she has money or  internalized racism or whatever they come up with. And it sounds condescending and that just bugs me. Hey, maybe instead of some underlying reason, we just don’t agree. 

or you have people try to stick the label on anyway. 

‘If you believe in equality you’re a feminist’

The label means nothing. I don’t understand why some will focus on this so much. I don’t want to be called a feminist. I don’t need to. In the same way, it’s not necessary for me to refer to myself as an MRA (men’s rights activist). And yeah, I know this says it’s an “MRA blog” that’s what I had when I started. But ultimately, the label isn’t important. I’m all for equality. It’s cool, it’s great. But I see this sort of thing (online that is) being forced on people and the thing is, with that wording it makes it sound like the movement is all inclusive when it’s not. You have to have certain politics and for the most part (unless you’re a religious feminist) you have to be pro choice otherwise you’re not a ‘real’ feminist. 

My next issue is all the aggression. You can just tell sometimes with how people respond online or if you catch a video that someone posted. And not only that, but how quickly people fall into name-calling or just all around acting like a child. And for the most it seems pretty acceptable to some because it keeps happening. It’s not hard to find on this site or otherwise. If you can’t communicate your opinions about something without having a fit or blocking someone (excluding if they just keep harassing you) then you’re not mature enough. That shows me you don’t really care about having a real discussion. And some can say that it happening on here is probably done by teenagers and to an extent they’re probably right. But it happens on other sites and in real life as well and it’s more than just teens. It’s people my age and older and that’s not cool. 

And then we have  how some like to ignore the differences between men and women. Sure, yes, there are many things a woman can do just like a man but we also have to acknowledge our differences.  I don’t see a lot of that with some forms of feminism. STEM, for example, is something I would attribute the differences more to just how men and women tend to be rather than sexism. Could there be certain circumstances where it is sexism? Sure, I suppose you can’t rule it out entirely. Otherwise I would say it’s just what they’re happy doing. I know girls who are doing science stuff or business things but I also know girls who are going to be teachers or psychologists or nurses. It’s not that they're actively being told by everyone that they can’t do it(I suppose unless they live in some other country like that). That’s just what they want to do, you know, their choice. Just like how some men go towards a job like with computers or farming or they’re pre-school teachers or gynecologists.

 I found an interesting fact (source will be posted below) that said women are actually preferred over men two-to-one for faculty positions. The study was done by psychologists from Cornell University with professors from 371 colleges/universities in the US. It also noted that: “recent national census-type studies showing that female Ph.D.s are disproportionately less likely to apply for tenure-track positions, yet when they do they are more likely to be hired, in some science fields approaching the two-to-one ratio revealed by Williams and Ceci.” 

Yet, we need to ask ourselves honestly, how often do facts like these get passed around vs the idea that women are suffering from misogyny and therefore are unable to fully represent in STEM jobs? 

The next thing I want to address is misandry. Now there are a good portion of people who don't think it exists or if it does, it's really not much of an issue because of the "power" and the "privilege" men have within society. And to me, I have a problem with that. If feminism is supposed to be for men as well, I would think they would want to combat misandry as well as misogyny. If someone really doesn't think it exists, I would suggest that the person really take a look at what goes on in real life and online that's directed towards men.

There's the whole "male tears" thing which is on coffee mugs and t-shirts. There's the kill all men/yes all men thing. All of which are supposed to be jokes and if a man says something about it he gets mocked for his "fragile masculinity"

That's just not okay. They're being immature and a bully which they usually try to justify (men have done this and that throughout history to women) but you just can't.

I found this article, this really really atrocious article. It's one of those open letter things and found on this feminist website (feminisminindia) and I almost believed it to be satire with how.... stereotypically Tumblr it was. I did research and looked at the info regarding the site and nope, it's a serious site. I'll post the article below but I'll also summarize it:

Basically this woman is telling the men in her life that she will not stop saying "men are trash or other radical feminist opinions." She's saying it because women and others have suffered so much at the hands of the patriarchy because they're not straight white men. She goes on to say:

So let’s establish: misandry isn’t real. Just like unicorns and heterophobia, misandry is a myth because it isn’t systematic or systemic. Unlike misogyny, cis men don’t face oppression purely based on their gender. While they may encounter instances of racism, homophobia and ableism, they are not dehumanised as a function of their gender identity (read: cis privilege).

That is wrong. Absolutely wrong. Misandry is real. "Cis" people do face oppression purely based on their gender. Anyone can. To deny that lacks understanding.

And the rest is just saying that: It is time to start hating on men-as-a-whole and starting celebrating the men that you are.

And: Because at the end of the day, feminists need men. Whether it’s because you wield structural power or because we genuinely value your existence, we need to band together to destroy ‘men’ because men are trash, but you, if you made it to the end of this, are probably not. Prove me right.

I would imagine this is a common viewpoint. And it's not a good one. If you genuinely think a whole group as a whole is bad you need to reexamine your thoughts. It's not "men" that are bad, it's the sexist people.

To wrap this up (I'm sure you might be tired of reading this lol); like I said, the attitudes play a huge part of it. Modern feminism, in my opinion, is just not good enough for me to say I agree with it and want to identify as one. I just can't

Here is the link to the feminist article: https://www.google.com/amp/s/feminisminindia.com/2020/09/23/men-are-trash-and-other-radical-feminist-opinions/%3famp

And here is the link for the STEM thing: https://news.cornell.edu/stories/2015/04/women-preferred-21-over-men-stem-faculty-positions

[ivanabaqero]

Since I just returned from rehab, here is my.. idk, emotional journey on my chronic illness + mental health or wtf ever u wanna call this. This is the most personal thing I have ever posted but I need to get it out. 

Before you read, I guess I gotta tw this for suicidal thoughts and descriptions of my symptoms.

I don’t even know where to start. It feels like all of this happened in one week and at the same in a span of several years. But no idea, time just kept passing and more shit happened. 

Last summer was pretty cool. I worked hard and made a fuckton of money - not really considering the consequences of the fact that I overstepped the boundaries of my body every single day. Either way, I regret nothing it was pretty cool and another experience I am glad I could make. Well, but when I came back home, I started to notice a few things. Among some weird shit nobody wants to know about, I noticed a change of my eyesight. There was a cloud right on the vision on my left eye and it got blurry. At first, it started with minutes and then it passed. But I knew my body responded to exhaustion in an odd way so I let it slide. As doctors have instructed me, only when it lasts over 24 hours it’s an actual episode/flare and I should go to the ER -- to elaborate this further, I have been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2015 and have not had any bigger flares since, only the regular symptoms like fatigue, etc.

 I got treated with the regular medication; cortisone. This shit gave me some energy boost for a few days and then, things went back to somewhat normal. The blurry thing in my eye has changed into a weird ass thing called nystagmus. Basically, my eyeball was twitching. It was better than the blurry sight and my doctors told me that physical therapy was the only thing to help me with that, and up until some weeks ago this didn’t stop, at the moment it’s gotten way better though - a relief because that caused me mad headache and made reading really difficult.

Anyway, that was the smaller problem. A few months later, in December around Christmas, I have gotten really weak and have been constantly dizzy. As usual, I let it slide for some days. Up until that point when I couldn’t move from the bed or look at anything else but right up at the ceiling or I would get fucking dizzy. Back to the ER again, the same procedure began. Cortisone  resulted in a massive push of energy that lasted for some days, but after that, all the symptoms slowly returned. Not only that, but it started to get worse. I have been dragging and limping with my left foot since months but I still managed somehow to walk and get around. In January I had a major panic attack when I noticed that I couldn’t walk on my own to my doctors, which is merely an 8 minute walk away. I had to call my mom to bring me back home because I couldn’t go any step more. My doctor sent me to the ER but the next day, I decided that I was fine and being over dramatic and everything was perfectly fine. The whole thing kept getting worse, I could not walk anymore, I kept feeling dizzy all the time unless I was staring at only one spot: my laptop or phone. So that was what I did, ignore my symptoms. Adding to my chronic fatigue, dizziness, inability to walk and my eye problem, a sensitivity problem spread all over my body from the chest downwards. My hands hurt and my fingers cramped up and got stiff, I lost all feeling in my feet. I had an appointment at the neurologist thank god, or else, I would have let it gotten worse and kept telling myself that I am being over dramatic and nothing is actually wrong. Delusional? Maybe. I don’t understand myself there either.

The neurologist decided to keep me in hospital for a whole ass week, getting cortisone every day. I got in there with the ambulance in a wheelchair and left out of there walking again. Not perfectly, but I thought things were looking up. Of course, once the high dose of steroids begins to wear off and you slowly come down from it, you first catch sleep. Steroids this time have been given to me five days in high dose instead of three and in addition, I had to take pills that I had to reduce slowly over another two weeks. I did not sleep in those three weeks more than 3-4 hours per night and then I finally could. To make this more understandable; my brain was tired but my body was buzzing. I also had a tremor that has still not entirely left me as a wonderful side effect from the medication. 

That time stationary they finally put me back in a MRT and found 2 bigger new lesions. One of them in my cerebellum and the other in my spinal cord. Each of them causing me all those massive problems. Back at home I had physical therapy every day, but despite all of it, I had to rely on a wheelchair. I got my wheelchair in march and named him Otto because he is the best man ever. Next time in hospital, I was mentally and physically just fucking done and tried to just ignore how much my mental health was going downhill along with my body, the neurologist offered me stationary rehab at a very well known center where they treat several physical as well as mental illnesses. I said yes, and luckily got a place in July.

The initial plan was to stay there for four weeks, but the doctors suggested to extend to six. I did. And good that I did. I made slow progress. Very slow. To imagine, in twenty minutes at the first day I could barely walk 130m with four  breaks in between, with walking aid and what not - and my last day I made 640m in the same time with no breaks. I know this doesn’t sound like a lot but fuck -- I made it out of a fucking wheelchair. I am walking again. Not perfectly or any good, but my legs are used for their purpose again; to get me through this world. For someone who loves hiking and going for little walks alone, this was such a big deal to just not be able to anymore. 

The day I had the panic attack was the day I realized that in 2015 I made a promise to myself that if I ever have to rely on other people, I would end it. But I felt selfish for not wanting to end it. I felt selfish  for wanting to live and being a burden to people. I know, none of this is my fault and I am the first to give good advice, but am I good at handling my own shit? Absolutely not. 

With all the physical therapy I did for six weeks every day, I also had a psychologist that helped me understand myself better and deal with the trauma this experience brought me. I have to find another psychologist at home as well, because I didn’t feel the one I have helped me at all. I had to make a lot of promises to myself, such as accepting and asking for help and that it’s no shame in doing so. I feared losing my independence and I still do. But fuck, this experience was an eye opener in so many ways. I made new friends in rehab as well, which was one of the coolest things. And I got hit on by two attractive men - can you believe? I was in a wheelchair, dressed like absolute shit and not making any kind of deal of how I look! But yeah, my interest wasn’t really there to get involved in anything. I’ve got a lot of love to give but I need to give it to myself rather than pour it out on someone else.

I learned so many lessons, about my body and about my mind. My brain is an idiot and I have so many fears I was never even able to see until now. I thought optimism could beat everything and well... while it helps me a lot to get through every day life, every now and then I just need a slap in the face to look at things in another light. Not everything is fine if you tell yourself it is, no, you are not over reacting and you are allowed to feel sorry for yourself when life is dealing you a bad card. It doesn’t matter that other people have it worse -- it doesn’t mean your own shit is any less valid. And with that, I am going to wash my face and stop crying. I am still in a shock of reality state because I am  back at home now and everything is different. And I got to admit, I feel a little lonely. But I don’t want to reach out to my old friends at the moment with whom I felt like the “sick friend”. I want more friends in similar positions as me so I don’t have to feel bad for... well, feeling bad, and I don’t want to hear any more optimism monologues from healthy people who have absolutely no idea what it is like to have chronic pain, fatigue and overall; an illness. Whether it be mental or physical.

If you really read all of this, thank you. There was no need to, but I appreciate it. I honestly just needed to let it out. Because I haven’t done so properly since all of that started. 

[ericmun]

210314 Shinhwa’s Eric and Dongwan’s Instagram Updates

Just a quick note as what might transpire this. There have been posts from fans pressuring about the lack of Shinhwa activities and Eric got the flak usual. One post in particular on the day before (Saturday night) that tagged all the members that probably why this happened, why he feels he’s been treated unfairly, as well as explaining why he had to go on SNS.

The clash between Eric and Dongwan is nothing new. It is mostly personality differences and ways of doing things. We are posting this because everyone has the right to understand what’s going on with a full and accurate translation (as accurate as possible) of how things went. Thanks so much 6crystalis for these long translation.

Eric’s 1st post:

I was keeping track quietly, but the problem is that the gap between internal affairs compared to external perception is too big, and so, there is constant conflict between the two. I thought if just leave it, it would slowly disappear by itself. Instead, the difference became so big, these was nowhere left to take a stand. I always thought that when it came to problems, the right thing to do was to dig it up by its roots and untangle it bit by bit; you shouldn't try to cover it up and pretend nothing happened. But in the end, I chose to listen to the opinions of different people and left it alone. One guy who always put group activities before all other work. Another guy who puts certain emphasis on solo activities, but during this period is emphasizing on Shinhwa activities. Although, it caused problems for group communication and schedules, but to fans, he is an intimate and gentle guy. Two people with different thought processes, so I've decided I need to go find and understand each person's differences. But everyone is too one-sided on who they are listening to, to the point that only support the one saying nice words to them, and cursing the condition of the person who is quietly working hard for the group. Isn't that too much? If the problem only stopped at supporting VS not supporting, it doesn't matter, but is it really necessary to go to the extremes of praising one side to high heavens and making personal attacks on the other? Right now, it's not 50/50, it's more than 90% of the people who think the latter's style is correct. Then that means everything I had been doing during that period is wrong. Just let me switch places with the later then, it's easy. But, can you put on some restraint, the group of people on DC? Aren't you tired? Stop gathering in groups in places I'm absent and discussing things that aren't set? If you want to talk about those things, then say it when you come join the group meeting. Didn't I already ask you guys (the members) 3 weeks ago about setting the schedule? If you actually want to resolve this, then let's talk. I have no way of contacting you, so I'll tag you, and I will also let Andy know. You'll invite me to tomorrow's live right? I'll be there.

Note: Eric tagged Dongwan for this post as seen in the photo

Source: muneric Translation: 6rystalis

Eric’s 2nd post:

Because I was afraid of causing conflict, I thought just leaving it would make it disappear, so I chose to say pretty words filled with hope that were false to make people happy and just leave everything. I think that’s just making me doenjang (superficial/full of BS)

Text on the chat:

ERIC: What time is the live tomorrow, Andy? ANDY: The time is not set yet, hyung. We'll set it after meeting with Dongwanie hyung tomorrow. ERIC: Can you tell him to invite me for tomorrow liveㅎㅎ ANDY: Okay ERIC: ㅋㅋㅋ ANDY: ㅋㅋㅋㅋ ERIC: I'm curious what he'll say ㅎㅎ No matter what he says, just forward it to me. I'll also adjust as needed. If it's really too convenient, then I'll think of a way to adjust it. ANDY: eung eung (yes yes)

Source: muneric Translation: 6rystalis

Dongwan’s post:

I am Kim Dongwan.

First of all, I feel very sorry for all the Shinhwa Changjo who got shocked.

Tomorrow, I will meet the members and have a good talk. Because it is internal affairs, we should discuss it among ourselves first.

The previous announcement about holding a live with Andy will go ahead as planned.

The conception of Shinhwa albums and concerts require the investment of a lot of manpower. This isn't completed by members on their own, or can be completed by just any member. To members, Shinhwa activities are very important and something they really look forward to. So, I have always taken into account the opinions of all six members, and after adjustments, produce a conclusion that is satisfying to all members.

Before getting this conclusion, other than the members' opinions, communication with the production team is also very important. It requires the polishing of time and opportunity.

Apart from the problem about contacting me... If we could've had a little bit of communication with the production team beginning last year, if we could've communicated so that they could feel at ease, then Shinhwa and Shinhwa Changjo wouldn't have had to encounter a situation like this... This is a point that I feel a bit regretful about.

We work hard together to be the Shinhwa that will paint a beautiful painting for Shinhwa Changjo.

Thank you, everyone.

Source: danedkim Translation: 6rystalis

Eric’s 3rd post:

Starting from 3pm, I had been asking Dongwannie and constantly checking with Andy for updates, but there was no answer at all about whether he was going to accept or reject my request to be there. Said it was because the production team couldn't contact me, so that's why they couldn't go forward with their work. Then let me tell you about my position. It started around "Sniper" activities? Around 2015-2021, he hasn't been in our group chat for 6 years; and after being blocked, I never got his new phone number. During the time I announced my marriage, because of "whether I let the members know I was getting married", I was being attacked. There was that brother that came out and loudly said, "Eric definitely has his own reasons~ Please understand~" Kept getting cursed or something. From the blank period in the military to album production in the years that followed, schedules and venues were booked one year in advance by me. I wouldn't know how to keep in contact with the production team? In those 6 years, I'm always telling everyone we should hold a meeting. Every time, the schedule is adjusted weeks in advance so that we can have this hard-earned chance to meet up. Even like that, we weren't able to see each other. There are too many times where there was no other way because of deadlines to just hold a meeting with 5 people.

Last year was the same. Again, I told the members that we should meet, everyone should open up some time in your schedule. And then the date was set, but on the day, we were stood up. The kind-hearted members were finally able to meet up after so much, but weren't even able to take a picture for proof before we separated. I was also really tired, so I suggested if it's hard to find time in your schedule, then let's use group chat to to figure things out, it'll be more convenient. I'm also really busy with work. Each time I have to adjust my schedule so we can meet, but if it gets cancelled on the day, I'll also feel really tired. Even so, he still refused to use group chat to discuss things. I'm also human. I thought, "We're in pandemic conditions and I still have dramas to film. If it continues like this, just leave it, stop pretending to be close." And so, at the end of last year, I stopped joining the group chat. But the root of the problem is here. In the 6 years that I have been doing all this, where I was constantly cursed, after I left group chat for a mere 3 months? Under the circumstances where I was absent, you had a meeting in a chat, in the way where you are comforting others and telling them to air out their raincoats? At that point, I couldn't hold it anymore. A few days ago, a Shinchang chat was established in Clubhouse. Like it was an official channel, you talked about things that members have never discussed or confirmed. There was even content that we haven't even heard of before. Yesterday, you said, "It wasn't you. It was because there are a few members who don't want to hold Shinhwa activities that these activities weren't confirmed in the end" ?

I'm not playing that despicable SNS where you can say things without leaving any evidence, talking about things that don't exist or politics where people criticize you. But to be different from being like that despicable SNS. I chose to leave a record of what I'm saying to be criticized. I guess it can be considered me saying what's on my mind. 6 years and 3 months. I'm too angry, so I suggested in the past that for 3 months, everyone should calm down on their own and think about what our things mean to us. If suggesting these 3 months is wrong, then I admit it, I apologize. But, in the post, it brought up the production team. I really want to ask, am I really the one affecting Shinhwa's schedule? Up until now, I've asked another members about this situation, yet I'm still unable to get a solid answer about whether you're accepting my arrival. Instead, you confirmed on Instagram that it's Eric and the production team's miscommunication that things couldn't be confirmed? I'm preparing to take a rest right now. I'm going to treat it as you rejecting to invite me to join you tomorrow. If members discuss things in the future and really want to make our dongsaeng, who's caught in the middle, uncomfortable, then just continue to do so. The person I wanted you to invite was me, so why are you replying to the fans? It would be great if I also had the ability to omit the main point and say words that sound nice to the ears. But, I'm also human. I apologize to everyone for having to listen to such tiring story.

Dongwan’s reply: I had a phone call with Andy around 6pm. I said that the 3 of us should meet and talk together. Perhaps he hasn’t told you yet.  I’m coming to Seoul tomorrow. We’ll talk face to face.

Source: muneric Translation: 6rystalis 

============================================================

Eric also did 2 more posts about the hate posts from Shinhwa DC Gall. We might translate it later if translator has time.

[getitinbusan]

10 years with Jungkook

California

You met Jeon Jeongguk in the summer of 2012. Two kids brought together by a calling to California and a chance at making it big. Best friends from the start, what happens when only one of you becomes successful? Do you ever forget your first love? 

Childhood friends to lovers, angst and smut.

Words:  4600

Warnings: 18 plus smut. Oral F, Sex MF, Swearing. Pretty Mild for me. This is a previously posted fic that has been updated and reworked.

It was a rare rainy August day in California. The heavy drops created a sad melody on the window as you put the dishes away. Tired and lonely, the feeling in your gut kept nagging at you, maybe it was time to give up. 

The savings account was drained, there were no jobs to be found and  this was the second month of falling short on rent. Surely it would only be a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning for money. 

Hanging the threadbare towel over its hook you stood in the kitchen, your mood mirroring the dim light of the afternoon. Feeling frusterated and stupid, it had taken you way longer than it should have to realize that in LA, you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough to ever make it big. So this is how the great Califonia chapter of your life would end, not by choice but necessity. 

Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through it sorting its priority. Junk mail, bills, personal…one in particular standing out. Your heart began pounding as you took in the details.

The penmanship was nice, black ink on an unassuming envelope. But it was the stamp that caught your attention. It was sent from Korea.

Flipping it in your hand you examined the torn top. The letter, having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face. Why wouldn’t he write to you?

It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find a trace of his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. Cool California nights were the best excuse. How many times had you borrowed his sweaters just to have his smell on you?

You missed him. It had been a year and a half and you couldn't help but once again ponder the nagging question that always crept back. If you hadn't forced him to break the rules would he still be a part of your life? 

It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free. 

I’m feeling low, I don’t know who I am, only who I’m supposed to be.

What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.

Does she even think about me?

It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, it’s not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I can’t. I’ve made the mistake of trading her for fame and now I’m destined to keep her at an arm’s length so she’ll never know the price I paid.

How does she even see me? As an Idol? As the boy who abandoned her? Has she forgotten the good days we spent together?

I’ve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about it…

~When I see you smile in the screen

You’re good at everything

You’re just perfect

Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don’t like me like that

I want to be your decalcomania~

I’m afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of her are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.

JK

Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day. 

"Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"  

Reading the description on the wall you’d both stood laughing at the piece's strange name, Decalcomania. The gallery visit felt like lifetimes ago but you still remembered clearly. You remembered, not because the piece had struck you as particularly special but because that's where you had decided that Jeongguk's laugh was the best sound you'd ever heard.  

California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an  intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer. 

It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.

Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way across the unfamiliar wooden floor to the tiny gathering of teens in the darkened corner.

Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. “This is Jeongguk.” 

He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.

Absolutely exhausted by the end of the first few days he quietly knocked at your door.

He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldn’t sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent. 

Inseparable, days and nights were spent side by side, the others began referring to you as the twins. It was the best summer of your life but like every boy meets girl summer story, it had to come to a close. Promising through tears to keep in touch and stay friends you went your separate ways. 

Jeongguk would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members.  He’d facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.

They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you,” and a few lines of lyrics he’d written.

You didn’t know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to.  

Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You always found a way to get to the small tour stops whenever they came through. 2015 was the first, then KCon in 2016, but 2017, it was different.

Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if you’d be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook the hottest new K-pop Idol? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.

He had strict rules, girls were completely off limits. No talking, no hugging, no smiling at one another, any little thing could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room where you would spend your nights together catching up. The boys would bring you in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.

While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.

"I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to," his voice trailed off.

You were laying in each other’s arms cuddling on his bed.  Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.

"All I really want is to take you on a proper date."

You snuggled closer into his side as he exhaled deeply, releasing his secret. 

"I’ve been waiting so long to become someone, a man worthy of your affection. Now I’m stuck. I have everything I wanted and I’m not allowed to share it with you."

His arms gripped you tighter.

"I’m sorry, this is a terrible confession. I don’t expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and there won’t be anybody else, ever." 

Every bit of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room had stuck with you to this day. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.

He'd left in the morning without knowing. You were a coward, too afraid to tell him you loved him too.  

LA became your home right after they left Anaheim. Focused on your dancing, if you became good enough, maybe you could join the tour with him. 

A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later. 

"Congratulations on your new house in LA!

I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, it’s hard living with others sometimes.

Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all of our friends. We were having a party on the beach and we sat together watching the sunset.

Do you remember after practice when we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldn’t miss the colors?

Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.

I miss you, I miss me… the me I am when I get to be with you.

We're coming back in October for a few days and I’m hoping I can see you, I’m lonely already.   

Jeongguk

~Won’t you please stay in dreams

I can hear the sea from far away

Across the dream, over the bush

Go there where it becomes clear

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

When I’m with you, I’m in utopia~

By the time The AMAs came, the plan had been finalized. You would steal Jungkook away so that you could take him on your first real date.

Having enlisted Namjoon to help, he was your inside man. The boys, happy to help finally get you together, would cover for his whereabouts with management. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasn’t late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.

It was Namjoon’s job to get him out of the building. Telling him to follow his lead, Joon convinced the managers that Jungkook must have eaten something bad for lunch. Claiming to not feel well, he was whisked away to meet you at the hotel’s back receiving door. 

Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldn’t give now to see that smile again.

Barely giving him time to get in you’d sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.

"Kookie, I hope you’re ready for the best day of your life! We’re going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel you’re staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!"

He laughed, that perfect laugh. It was so pure and honest, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last moment he'd gotten to be his true self? Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna? 

Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.

Picking up the food Jungkook held onto the red and white bags in the passenger seat, sneaking his hand in to steal fries when he thought you weren’t looking. If you weren’t sure you were in love with him before you you certainly were now.

Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, "Ahhh Jagi, I can’t believe you brought me here."

Happy that it meant as much to him as it did to you, you both sat on the branch and ate. Two blocks from the old studio this used to be your escape. Every break you’d make your way to the tree for some time alone, together. 

With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, but stupidly, you'd cut him short leading him back towards the car.

Making your way through your checklist you brought him back to where you'd first met. The Movement studios students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.

Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with his every move.

Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close. But again, you resisted him. 

"You stink Jungkook, our next stop is the ocean."

You remember pulling away. How stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy. It broke your heart but you had a plan and limited time to execute it. 

The Ocean was chilly but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but still wearing his shirt.

"Kookie, this isn’t Korea, you don’t have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed," you grinned, "you look really sexy."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.

Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.

The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.

Leading him back to the shore you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into his side.

"My god Guk, look at your abs!"

He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.

"Stop, it tickles," he giggled.

But you didn’t, you kept tickling him until he held you so tight you couldn’t move. He had you pinned, flipping you on your back he shook his wet hair flinging water droplets all over you. Pleased with himself he leaned in closer to you, his eyes asking for permission to kiss you. As the gap between you got narrower you could hear his name being shouted and footsteps running closer. He flopped onto his back and sighed as your roommates and friends piled on top of him.

Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.

"Welcome back." Running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never. 

Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.

"I love you," you whispered.

Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, you’d been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.

"I’m so sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble."

His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.

"You promised I wouldn’t be going back to my hotel tonight, let’s get out of here."

If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now?  

The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation lingered in the air between you.

It wasn’t just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, it held the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke.

"I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave I’m not going to get to see you again for a very long time." His head hung low. "Management is going to do everything possible to keep us apart and that won’t be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I don’t want you to regret anything. " 

Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"The only thing I'll regret is never getting to experience all of you. I can’t live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours even if it's only for one night."

He rested his head against your chest, "You’ll always be mine."

His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them. 

Standing up he lifted the thin fabric of your shirt over your head and you stood before him waiting as he took his off too. Unclasping your bra he sighed as he looked at you taking in your shape, his fingertips hovering over your hard nipples.

"I’ve never done this before," he confessed.

"Me either," you whispered. "I've only ever wanted it to be you."

More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found it’s home between your legs.

He was soft and careful, placing his lips over your clit sucking it in delicately until your moans couldn’t be contained any longer. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he watched in awe as his finger slid inside you.

"It feels good Kookie, please…"

You could feel his mouth stopping to smile before he picked up speed. Moving your hips to eagerly meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.

"The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined."

Devouring you in sessions between his words of adoration you came hard on his tongue. 

"I'm really regretting running you all over town today when we could have just been here...doing that.. " You were out of breath. 

"I was worried that I wouldn't be any good." He grinned at you pleased with himself. 

Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

He placed his forehead against yours.

"I just want you. I need you to know I'm yours, forever. 

Rolling a condom on he moved slowly to line himself up with your entrance.

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

He pushed carefully, slowly stretching you around him. Watching intently for discomfort he froze when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

"Shit, I’m so sorry, let’s stop, I didn’t mean to hurt you." He was apologetic as he thumbed away the tears.

"No," you delicately kissed his lips. "I’m okay… I’m just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much I’m feeling right now."

He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom. 

Laying together in euphoria you kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you finally found sleep while wrapped around one other.

Every few hours he’d wake you up. His hands running over your body checking to make sure you weren't just a dream. You’d made love each time, everytime better than the last.

It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.

"I have to leave soon. I don’t want to." He spoke in whispers nestled into your neck. "Please tell me to stay."

Your heart broke at his words. "If I ask you to stay, I’m selfish, you’ll always wonder if you made the right decision." The tears came, knowing you had to do what was right. "If I tell you to go, your dreams come true… ” your voice trailed off.

"And I’ll always wonder if I made the right decision,” he finished. 

Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.

It was Joon, "I’m outside. Sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them that I’d come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye."

Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, "Okay, five minutes… and Joon… thanks, I know you’re probably in trouble too."

Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms bravely waiting. 

"Thank you for yesterday I'll never forget it."

Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle and knew he was crying too.

You flashed back remembering that night long ago when he came to you homesick, holding you so he could sleep while he tried to hide his tears. There was a knock at the door and Namjoon’s voice broke through the moment.

"We’ve got to go Jungkook."

Stepping away you’d left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you. "You keep it."

He kissed you one last time before opening the door to reveal Namjoon's weary face. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.

Turning one last time he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears as he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan. 

For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.

You held on to that silly notion until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through your empty heart. Then, just like that, it was over and he was gone again. 

Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind and opening old wounds.

He was just as sad as you but what could you do? 

Picking up a pen you began writing… 

I shouldn’t have done it but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing

You don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are

And honey, you don’t ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You’re brighter than the brightest stars

You’re scared to win, scared to lose

I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

You’re changing like the weather, oh, that’s so like you

I’ll pick you up

I’ll catch you on the flipside

If you come back to California

We’ll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far

We’ll hit up all the old places

We’ll have a party, we can dance till dawn… 

Y/N

October came again and a chill was in the air, the smell of the ocean hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.

Bundled in Jungkook’s hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. You'd gotten lucky, Movement had hired you just as you were about to give up and leave California. Filled with hope and excitement a new intensive program was scheduled to start today and you were going to meet the future superstars of the dance world. 

Memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt, but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.

Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror.  Chalk marker in hand he was writing something, It couldn’t be?

Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you.

"Hi."

He walked towards you slowly. Unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.

"Hi."

You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him he’d only grown more handsome.

"I can’t change what happened… and for the rest of my life I’ll be sorry for all of the time we missed."

He was getting closer.

"But I can’t take another day not knowing if I can fix this… somehow…"

He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.

"Jungkook, I can’t listen to this… look at me."

Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.

"I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that is out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I am nothing but grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story."

He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.

"God I’ve missed you." He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

"How long are you here? I’ve got to teach class.. It’s the first day but I’d love it if we could catch up?"

He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.

Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.

"I’m your private lesson Jagi, I’ve booked you for the next two weeks."

Taking a step back you had to ask, "How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?"

Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.

"There is no more giving up, on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldn’t negotiate on, that’s you." 

He guided you to look at the mirror.

"I wrote you something."

~Please call my name one more time

I’m standing under the frozen light, 

but I’ll walk step by step towards you

Still with you ~

"I promise I’ll never let you go again."