#there's a lot going on for me again. somehow these fandom weeks keep overlapping with my semester finals lol

[pocketsizepunk]

@layclaireweek day 1 - music

piano practice always turns into a jam session with these two

[the-darklings]

coa one year later & self-reflection

(*drags out a creaky metal chair and plops down on it heavily*)

Hi. It’s me, ya boi skinny--

Wait, wrong one. Do over.

Hi, it’s me, Kat, and I’m not dead. Clearly. Today being one year anniversary of COA has kinda put me in a reflective mood, so I guess I decided to sit down and just...talk about some things, thoughts and feelings I’ve been bottling inside for a hot sec. Especially given how radio silent I have gone on here and people deserve a bit of perspective. 

And before anyone starts worrying, it’s all good, and I’m still around and currently in good health for the most part. 

So, let’s take it back to the start. Regardless of how dramatic it may sound, we need to go back a year for that. 

By technicality alone, COA actually turned one year old on October 12th. That’s when the first part was posted. However, the reason I’m treating today as the aforementioned birthday is simple: I had no intention of this story ever being more than a short two-parter. I told this to the discord gang already but COA was only going to have two parts. V was going to die in Tokyo and the rest of the story follows glimpses of John throughout the movies and it’s her ghost that haunts him. Skipping ahead, it was going to have a bittersweet ending of John eventually dying, having completed his task, only to be greeted by V, Daisy and Helen in the afterlife. A peace of sorts. Then, I realised that, well, no. I have more to say on this world and intrigue about this placeholder character V kept growing. 

November 1st happened and I made a very last minute call to continue COA but with the added pressure of doing it during NaNoWriMo 2019. And boy did I. Most of the story was figured out during that very intense month. I posted Part 2 on this day a year ago because I was so eager to share it. Perhaps, in retrospect, a bit too eager. 

For those of you who may not know this, I work as a writer full time for my actual every day job. I’m the main writer for an original webcomic called In the Bleak Midwinter on Webtoon.com and have been for almost two years now. Getting what is essentially your dream job is amazing. I’m very lucky on that front but it also taught me stark realities of having your job and only hobby overlap. It’s a dangerous creative mix. Especially because I was not used to being constraint in what I create or the feeling like I have to please anyone else. Writing as a job is a whole other avenue of creative exhaustion. I love my job a lot and am very, very lucky to have it but it doesn’t change the fact that those initial stages made me fall back on COA a lot for creative freedom that I craved so desperately. To an unhealthy degree looking back on it now. 

But going back to November last year. NaNo time. I did it. Finished on the 24/25th I believe. A juicy final count of 52k+. All while maintaining a weekly update schedule for a fic that usually hit around 10k per update, if not more, even during those early days. Add writing an original story on top of that. Writing every day for hours on end (we are talking 10-12hr days) without any time for other hobbies or time for myself in general. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing. Losing weight and sleep in the process. I think the thing that convinced me that I should continue doing so is the fact that the outpour of support for COA ended up surpassing anything I ever expected or even dared to hope for. I’m not a huge numbers person but the outpour of love and just sheer investment in the story and characters blew me away. John Wick fandom is on the smaller side and has been going through downtime when I posted COA so my expectations were...well, small tbh. I like keeping expectations low to avoid any disappointments in general. But I’ve also always had an issue of being a massive 0 or 100 kind of person. If I love something, it consumes me. In this case, it brought me as much joy and freedom as much as it was steadily pushing me towards the ultimate crash. 

That being said, I can’t thank you all enough for every comment, like, reblog and message and fanart. You’re the reason I got this far. With your support. It brightened some really dark days for me.

But. 

To be frank, it’s never been about you guys. I never wrote or pushed because I felt like I had to appease anyone. That creative mindset is pure poison and I long since learned to let go of it. I kept pushing and kept working myself to the bone because I liked it. I liked how reading peoples’ responses made me feel. I liked the addictive nature of reading all the comments and theories after an update. I loved the idea of brightening peoples’ days and giving them something to cheer them up after what might have been a shitty day. Even if that was at expense of my own time/well being. But for a long time, it wasn’t. I love writing a lot but facts remain facts. 

It was beyond unhealthy and burnout wasn’t a question of if but when and that when was approaching at neck-breaking speed. 

So we come to the end of November. Part 4 has just come out. People were invested and I was invested alongside them. I was just finishing up Part 5 which (back then) was the biggest single chapter I’ve ever written and god I still recall my sheer dread because that was the beginning of Santino being established as a LI. Looking back on that now, it’s downright hilarious how worried I was about the reception of him and V together after John.

So honestly, I hit burnout at around Part 8. Because that’s the first time I recall struggling with writing a chapter. Part 8 came out on December 28th. I had a brief break for holidays. But my mistake was not taking longer back then. Because I continued writing with a barely healed burnout. Followed by almost a year of struggling and continuously creating through that state. It wasn’t like I eased off the pressure, either. Oh, no. The chapters grew in size, the world and the characters with it. AUs amassed quickly and while I adore every single one - again, I didn’t know how to pace myself well enough.

I’m spiteful though. The more the chapters struggled the more I pushed against the burnout. By the time Chicago arrived, however, I knew I was in trouble. I ended up writing 43k+ in a span of 2 months, I believe. And while to some it may not seem like a lot given the time frame, it’s a lot when you’re burnout to a crisp & writing an original story for work + deadlines. Which I was burned out and then some. Chicago was something I was looking forward to writing for months. I have built it up since Part 4. It was a long time coming. So while I’m still proud of it, I would be lying if I said that some scenes were not sacrificed for the sake of keeping to my invisible schedule that no one but me actually cared about. You guys have always been patient. I never felt pushed into anything. It’s always only ever been me doing the harm. 

Chicago was the downwards spiral for me mentally. I felt like I was failing to live up to my own expectations. That people were drifting away from it. I was plagued by the thought that the story I poured so much into was falling apart and growing weaker. Which this has always been an issue with me: I am my own harshest critic. Always have been. In fact, I’m a downright mean little fucker when it comes to just tearing at myself. I know writing is for fun - and it is - but I still like the idea of being proud of my work which only made everything worse despite the love each update received. 

This takes us to the beginning of June. Specifically, June the 2nd. Or, as I like to call it: Kat Makes Another Impulsive Decision but This One Actually Works Out For the Better. On this day, I created the COA Discord server. And damn, I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting when I did ngl. I did it for fun and as an escape more so than anything. But somehow it ended up being the best decision I made in a long while. I know some of you are reading this. So love you lots, dorks. It’s such a privilege to be able to call so many of you my friends even outside of COA now. That little community has given me some of the best memories from this year and helped me to crawl out of my own metaphorical pit I was stuck in. Mentally, I’m doing much better than I did beginning of this summer. Which could be summed up as a constant self-hatred cycle and a feeling of inadequacy. 

That, however, does not mean my burnout magically disappeared. If anything Chapter 17 just put a nail in the coffin so to speak. 2020 has been a shitty year just across the board for obvious reasons I don’t need to go into here but that can only partially be attributed to my mental state. Chapter 17 was...exhaustive. To say the least. But I was determined to stick with my vision and not split it up. I was also starting to be a bit more forgiving towards myself in terms of how long I may take to write it thanks to guys on discord though the feeling of failure and worry never quite faded fully. I’m proud of Part 17. Truly. But that was also when I hit rock bottom creatively on COA. It drained me completely. 

I tried writing Part 18 for weeks after, day in and day out, not getting past the first scene and hating every word I wrote. So I took a deep breath and stopped. Figured I let it marinate and wait instead of trying to piece one of the most crucial chapters in this story like some Frankenstein monster two sentences at the time.

So my solution was simple: give myself some distance from it and write other things. Get my spark back. Of course that’s always a good idea. Having multiple creative escapes is the best thing you can do for yourself creatively. There was just one tiny little problem. 

I was still burned out. Still am. The problem went deeper than just being burned out over COA. I was burned out over writing itself. 

Which is an issue for a person who only has writing as a creative outlet.

I don’t have any other way to express myself. So I was stuck in a runt, trying to write because it’s the only thing that makes me genuinely happy even when I really shouldn’t have. And let me tell you. It’s a shitty fucking feeling. My burnout worsened. I had a thousand ideas but every time I tried to get them down it felt forced, fragmented, and weak. Repetitive and dry. Now, this is also in part because English isn’t my native language, so my vocab is limited as a result, but I hit that sweet rock bottom in that regard, too. 

So, I worked on V (but in her OC form Clara), Lucien and The Elites. All those characters have grown so much since you last read about them. I have multiple original projects planned down the line that will feature all of them existing in their own world, with their own stories and no longer constrained by JW canon.  

Which, finally, takes us to the end of October and beginning of November 2020. 

I was convinced that the best course of action was to do NaNo again but with an original story this time (involving V). Suffice to say, it took a grand total of maybe 5-6 days and hating every second of writing it while also feeling like this project I’m so passionate and excited to write (still am) is just...going down the toilet to be blunt, to realise I may have made the wrong call. 

Still, the stubborn ass that I am, I pushed through. Convinced I can get into it if I just keep going. The realizations that I am sharing with you right now won’t have been possible if it hadn’t been for a rather curious turn of events about a week and a half ago.

I recently bought a gaming laptop, all in preparation for Cyberpunk 2077 dropping ofc. But, in the meantime, I kept recommending a game to a friend on the COA server. That game? Far Cry 5. (It’s a blast to play btw, just a side note.) And playing it brought back all the feelings of nostalgia from the days when I used to write for that fandom. So I revisited some old work. Checked the stuff I never published and that has been sitting ducks in my docs for months and hoo boy. Let me tell you it was a vibe check of the worst kind. 

The stark difference in the prose and the ease with which it flowed was...startling. It made me remember why I love writing so much and how proud I used to be of what I wrote back in the day. Which is not to say I’m not proud now, but it was just such a sharp dip in quality it was impossible to ignore.  

So I didn’t.  

I paused NaNo, moving it to another month. I paused writing for everything but work, which with our season coming to an end I will also get a rest from soon, too. I kinda paused in general. For the first time in a while, I finally forced myself to switch off. Rest. 

The reason why I haven’t been on here is simple: guilt and not having energy to be on here. I like making my blog a safe space for everyone. Similar to escape it has become for me. I couldn’t pretend I was fine when I wasn’t. I felt obliged to perform and being here became exhausting. I haven’t been checking my inbox. Haven’t done much of anything except occasionally dropping by and reblogging a random post so people know I’m alive.

And that’s that, folks. That’s where I am currently. Resting. Completely exhausted mentally but resting. Getting my energy back. 

So where does that leave us, huh? If you read this far, dunno what to tell you. Thanks, I suppose. It’s still odd to think people actually care about my existence sometimes.

I know what you’re likely thinking, too. So does this mean COA is never gonna be finished? What is gonna happen to it? Are you abandoning it?

The answer: no. 17 out of 25 chapters and 250k+ in, I’m too far in not to give it a proper conclusion. Not because I owe it to anyone other than myself. I want this story to be a stepping stone for my future as a writer. I want to prove to myself that I can get this done and finish it. As of right now (as you can no doubt tell with how long it’s been since last update) it’s on a soft hiatus while I rest. This rest? Not sure how long it may last. Right now, my plan is till mid December at which point I will reevaluate. Ideally, I finish the year with an update. But my New Year’s resolution is to finish COA. That timeline has become a little more murky now but, again, ideally it’s within the first quarter of 2021. Will that happen? I don’t know. And I don’t want to make false promises, either. 

All I’m saying is that it will be done. I’m just no longer sure how long, exactly, it may take me to reach that Epilogue. I don’t expect many people to stick around for however long it may take me, but if you do, thank you. Truly. I really and deeply mean that. 

So what’s on the cards for this blog in the meantime? Well, CP77 is coming out in under a month (if it doesn’t get moved again lmao rip) and I expect that to be my soft return to posting my writing on here again. We will see where the muse takes me, if at all. Regardless though, I’m excited. 

One doctorate thesis later, here we are at the end of this really long rambling session. I hope that this has given you some perspective on things going on behind the scenes. I spared you some of the gorier details but I think this post has been long overdue. I suppose I, myself, was just too unwilling to face these things despite knowing about them deep down for a while now. I’m too self-critical not to notice but acting on correcting this behavior has been a whole other matter clearly. 

Thank you for reading this post, my writing in general, and supporting me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m still around. More is on the way in the future. I’ll be seeing you all real soon. And all my love to all of you. 

Love,

- Kat.   

[zenonaa]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya Characters: Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Touko Additional Tags: togafukaweek2020, there is one nsfw bit of dialogue right at the end

Summary: Byakuya and Touko go to Iceland for their honeymoon.

Comments: Day 2, traveling and outfits! Ice caves look so pretty ahhh.

***

Barren trees sat in ragged clusters on and around the brown mounds surrounding the gravel car park. In the distance, snow dusted the tops of black mountains overlapping each other, their silhouettes stark against a cloudy backdrop like ink on paper. The chill of crisp air masked any aroma nature may have breathed. Touko rubbed her gloved hands together before returning them to the harness she was meant to be finishing putting on.

In the Icelandic car park, she didn’t have a pen and paper to scribble down all the similes and metaphors that sprouted in her mind’s garden. Condensation puffed out between her parted lips as she stared at the distant mountains, herself small unlike a mountain and human unlike a mountain. Her curious eyes traced over the mountains’ outlines while her hands fidgeted with her partially done up harness.

Next to Touko, her husband, Byakuya, reached over.

“Here, let me do that for you,” he said, and he secured Touko’s harness for her.

A smile glinted on her face. He progressed onto snapping the straps of her helmet into place. Unlike Touko, he had taken his gloves off temporarily to give his fingers more dexterity. Nearby, others also put on their hiking equipment over their outerwear, but she didn’t pay them any more attention. They chatted in languages she didn’t know fluently, such as French, German and Russian.

Not that any of that mattered to her. She was here with her husband. Her husband. On their honeymoon.

“There,” he said, with his hands either side of her head. “It’s on now.”

That just left her crampons to attach to her feet.

“Thank you, Darling,” she replied, beaming up at him.

Byakuya’s hands cradled her cheeks for a few seconds more before he nodded and turned away. She could still feel his touch linger as she watched Byakuya walk over to a white tub by the minibus they all arrived here in. From it, he drew out two ice axes, and then he padded back to her. He passed one to Touko.

The lower shaft was straight while the upper shaft curved slightly. Their tour group’s leader, a round woman with a fluorescent orange helmet and bright blue coat, flourished her axe and said something to the group. After she repeated it in another language, Byakuya translated for Touko.

“Straight shafted axes are ideal for flat planes and moderate slopes. Technical ice axes curve a lot more and are for higher grade slopes. We’re just ice-walking through some caves, so we’ve got axes between those two extremes,” he explained.

“I see,” said Touko with a bob of her head. Her helmet wobbled slightly, and noticing, Byakuya clicked his tongue and adjusted her straps again.

Excitement vibrated through her body, but it came edged with nervousness. Yes, she survived a killing game. Yes, she survived a city where children murdered adults. And yes, she even survived her wedding’s afterparty where Yasuhiro drunkenly yowled into the karaoke machine. But here, she wasn’t confronted with someone to outwit, to outwait. This was nature.

Byakuya took his hands off her helmet, satisfied, and motioned to her feet. She still had yet to put her crampons on completely, just standing in them.

“If you haven’t worn crampons before, try walking in them now rather than wait until we reach the glacier,” he said.

Touko hadn’t worn them before. Never had reason to. Never had anyone to give her reason to before.

“Do you remember how to walk in them?” asked Byakuya.

“I do,” she said, and she bent down to strap the crampons to her boots. 

Prior to the tour, the pair researched ice-walking online to give themselves an advantage, and the tour leader had gone over general things on the ride here that Byakuya translated. Touko inhaled and took a step forward while keeping her legs slightly more apart than usual, like a cowboy in an old western movie. 

She didn’t fall over. Good. Easy. So long as she didn’t shuffle and kept the sharp edges of her crampons away from her faux fur lined leggings, then she would be fine.

“Good,” said Byakuya, observing, having just put on his own crampons. He fixed his glasses into place. “We’re ready.”

Confidence glowed on his face. Byakuya shifted his weight and Touko suspected he had meant to take a step, but he instead lurched and started to tip over. Her heart jolted as she darted forward, ready to catch him.

Thankfully, he wobbled and regained his balance at the last moment so didn’t end up landing on her. He straightened with a pout, shoulders slumping. She sidled up to him and hooked her arm around his elbow.

“I’ll put them on when we get there,” he mumbled. Touko rested her head against his arm.

Soon, the tour leader called them all together, and they set off. She led the group down a gravel path with chocolate brown terrain either side of them. Not snow. Not yet. As they trekked along, admiring the scenery, the tour leader rambled on about miscellaneous facts that Byakuya translated for Touko, such as how glaciers covered ten percent of Iceland. 

After a ten-minute walk, the ground sloped down onto uneven, icy terrain.  Clumps of brittle ice dotted the landscape here and there, mixed in with rocks of various sizes. The layer of ice and snow was rather thin so didn’t blanket the ground completely, reminding Touko of a dark wooden kitchen surface that had sieved flour splattered across it. Anyone yet to put on their crampons did so now, and once the tour leader gave a brief safety talk, they ventured onto the field of ice.

Touko squared her shoulders and marched forward, hearing the ground crack and grind under her feet. Initially, the sound made her waver, but the ground didn’t give way so she pushed on. She stayed close to Byakuya, using her ice pick as a cane despite the fact that even though the ground rose and fell, it wasn’t too cragged yet.

However, it still wasn’t flat. At one point, Touko stumbled on one of the many rocks embedded in the ground and shrieked. Fortunately, Byakuya spun around, catching her before she could fall completely. Touko slumped into his chest, first because of momentum, but then she buried herself in him with relief.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his axe planted in the ground next to him.

A grin spread across her face as she looked up.

“It s-seems I’ve fallen for you,” she quipped.

“We’re married, so I should hope so,” he told her. He peeled Touko off his chest, holding her arms. 

She shivered and scrunched her hands together. When she exhaled, she could see her breath spread its wings and fly. Her eyes followed her breath upward, and she stared at the colourless sky.

“Do you think we’ll see aurora borealis tonight?” she asked.

To be honest, of all the activities to take part in and all the sights to enjoy here, seeing the northern lights ranked at the top of her list. She tried to imagine them now, imagine watercolours bleeding into a night sky, but the clouds absorbed her daydream before she could visualise even a few paint strokes.

“The locals can’t control the weather, but Iceland is one of the best places to see it,” said Byakuya. He let go of her and extracted his axe from the ground. “Still, the trip advisor said to have plenty of other things planned just in case.”

Such as ice-skating, hiking and visiting landmarks. Every night, Touko had stood at their cabin’s window, hoping to see the lights, but every night, she had curled up beside Byakuya without seeing any.

At least she got blessed with the sight of his face beside her every morning. That more than perked her up.

Touko shimmied her shoulders and simpered sweetly. “I don’t know, darling. We could spend two weeks in our cabin in bed and I would be more than happy.”

Byakuya made an inarticulate noise between a grunt and a yelp and turned away. She snickered a little as they set off again. After several paces, though she continued to walk, she gazed at the sky and hoped it could somehow understand the desire gleaming in her eyes that longed to see the northern lights during their trip.

If the sky understood, it didn’t let on.

From a distance, all they had been able to see were small hills, but as they wound through the ice field, they realised crevices ran through the terrain too. Some were thin, black dirt veins engraved in the icy flesh, some dry, some with hissing water that trickled through, ranging in width and depth. Some could accommodate a foot, others full bodies, and the walls either side of these indentions varied in height. Could reach up to an ankle or tower over a person. Then there were the different textures on the walls and mounds. Dusty. Chunky. Smooth.

Touko brushed her gloved fingers across a wall crusted in crumbly snow before moving on, able to see Byakuya a couple of strides ahead. She spotted a hole in the ground nearby and peeked inside. So far, she had noticed a few of them. Some could allow a human to slide down their throats into the stomach, while others were not wide enough to fit more than an adult’s hand into their mouths. 

As for this hole, when she crouched down to inspect it closer, she reckoned a person could slide down on their stomach and perhaps find themselves in one of the ice caves on the other side. Byakuya sauntered back to Touko, who glanced up. He adjusted his glasses, continuing to stand straight next to her.

“Do you think we could fit down there?” she asked, focusing on the hole again. “J-Just the two of us? Such a secluded area... think of what we could get up to down there...!”

She hugged herself and trailed off, laughing under her breath, and knew Byakuya well enough to know without looking up that he wrinkled his nose.

“You mean like... kissing? In a block of ice?” he asked. 

Her smirk grew, and she raised her head. Yep, his nose was wrinkled.

“If you want somewhere private, we have a cabin,” he pointed out. “We don’t need to risk getting trapped in ice.”

“W-We can still imagine, though,” she said. She stood up and leaned her hip against him, then her head against his shoulder. “I-Imagine... we tumble in and have to wait in a small air pocket until we’re rescued... while we’re stranded, we have to keep warm and share oxygen, so we... heheh...”

The ends of her lips climbed as high as they could go. Touko cupped one cheek and shuddered, keeping her other cheek pressed against Byakuya.

“This place is incredibly inspiring. I’m already... feeling a bit warmer,” she said.

“I’m not,” replied Byakuya, fidgeting his scarf with a telltale blush across his cheeks. “So let’s carry on.”

Snow crunched underfoot, and soon something else grabbed their attention. Up ahead, they discovered an ice cave, naturally made, with tunnels that they could walk through. Touko stared, mouth hanging open as they entered. As the tunnel wasn’t particularly long, light intruded and highlighted the lining of its throat. The cave tinged everything in a blue glow. In places, the texture on the walls reminded Touko of honeycombs. Ripples ridged the ceiling, motionless, frozen in time. It made Touko feel like she was walking through the bottom of the ocean.

Byakuya nudged up his glasses, looking around. 

“During the summer, warmer temperatures and sunlight melt the ice at the surface of the glacier,” he told her. “The water drains downward through cracks, sinkholes and moulins, melting the ice at the bottom. This creates the area which we’re walking through now. It will freeze over again when it’s colder, only to happen again. Year to year, the formations change... we’re seeing a formation that will not exist this time next year, or even ever.”

Touko placed a hand over her heart. The tour leader happened to be nearby and stared at them with a polite smile. Byakuya said something to her in English, which Touko assumed was what he just told Touko in Japanese.

“That’s right!” said the tour leader in English, sounding impressed. “It sounds like someone has done their research.”

Much of Touko’s understanding of English was restricted to written form. She glared at the tour leader but said nothing, tugging on Byakuya’s arm and leading him away. The cave was a simple tunnel, and they could see the light at the other end, but Touko and Byakuya approached it casually, in no hurry, drinking in their surroundings. A range of blues inhabited the icy walls. Some areas were speckled black, while others sported clear blues and creases of white.

Not long after they left that cave, they entered another. This one had a lower ceiling, crystallic with icicles hanging down from it. However, though the ceiling consisted of translucent whites and blues, the ground was coal black. Touko fumbled with her camera, stored in her satchel, and took a few photos. Then she turned to Byakuya and snapped one of him.

So handsome.

Her finger pressed the button again.

His sandy blonde hair.

Dreamy blue eyes.

Kissable lips.

He looked as if the Gods themselves had chiseled him from their finest marble.

Touko snapped another photo.

Then another.

And some more.

She giggled dreamily.

Byakuya noticed and gave a small sigh.

“You will end up filling the memory card with just photos of me. Let me take a few,” he said, and she readily handed him the camera. He looked around, his finger on the capture button, then aimed it at her. 

Touko stiffened, but he didn’t take a photograph like she expected. Instead, he positioned himself next to her, holding the camera an arm’s length away from them and pointing it at their faces.

“Are you taking a selfie?” she asked, nervously rotating the handle of her ice axe in her hands.

“Yes,” he said. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. 

As a child, Touko often avoided being in photographs. Classmates would take them of her to ridicule later. Some people were honest about their cruel intentions, guffawing in her face, but others weren’t upfront about it. Even so, she would hear their muffled laughter, pick out her name buried in whispers. Byakuya, however, played no tricks, and Touko relaxed as he pressed on the camera a few times to capture images of them together, then he checked to make sure he had taken a picture in case he hadn’t pressed hard enough without realising.

“These ones are a bit blurry. Let’s try again,” he said.

After he took another round of photos, they strolled forward, and he occasionally snapped a photo of something nearby. Their footsteps plopped as their boots stamped on puddles of water. 

At the end of the cave was a lip-shaped opening, revealing a dim blue sky past its prime. Touko’s stomach tightened. Not long from now, they would either see the northern lights or not see them.

“This way, Touko,” Byakuya called out, waving his arm. He had slipped ahead. She hurried after him.

They investigated more caves, then an hour later, they returned to the minibus which drove them to their original meet up area. The temperature outside dropped, evening air nipping at their exposed faces, and before they retired to their cabin for the night, Byakuya and Touko stopped by the restaurant where they enjoyed kjötsupa – a traditional lamb meat soup, enriched with herbs and vegetables that balanced the savoury meat with low-key sweetness.

Throughout dinner, Touko’s eyes flickered between her husband’s face and the window that taunted her with a stubbornly black sky. All she could see were stars sprayed across it. No ethereal lights. A tremor in her chest made her feel fuller quicker, but though she ate slowly, she persevered, eating most of it. 

Despite how full she felt, though, the fluttering in her stomach still had room to bat its wings.

By the end of the meal, they had warmed up considerably, and full up after their flavourful, peppery soup, they retreated to their cabin. The wooden plank interior offered warmer hues than the ice caves, brimming with lush browns, and not just the walls but the furniture too.

Byakuya and Touko went into different rooms to disrobe from their outer gear. Touko popped into the bathroom and came out in a pink onesie with a cat-eared hood, gifted by Komaru. Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Byakuya had changed into a set of fleece pajamas, composed of a navy long-sleeved top and checkered dark green bottoms. Hearing the door, he turned toward it, sitting on their bed, and raised his eyebrows but said nothing, observing her quietly as she trod over to the window.

Black sky. Black as the deepest recesses in the ice caves. No aurora. Not yet.

Assuming it would even come. They had one night here after this, and then that would be it. The ice caves had proven to be an enjoyable distraction, but now she couldn’t avoid the fact they hadn’t seen the lights. She heaved a sigh and heard Byakuya join her.

“What if we don’t get to see it?” she asked, clutching the window ledge. “We might not be able to afford to come here again anytime soon...”

Not with the Togami Conglomerate’s forced termination years back. Not after Touko’s parents drained her account dry years back. Not with their teachers’ salaries. Neither would trade in the lives they had now, not for anything, even for a chance to witness the northern lights, but that didn’t mean Touko couldn’t wistfully stare at the sky.

“Don’t get me wrong. Even if we don’t end up seeing it, our honeymoon will still have been wonderful,” said Touko. “I’ve felt like I’ve been on a high the entire time. It’s just... when I think of aurora borealis, s-such a beautiful natural phenomenon... I think of our relationship, and how magical it is. It would have been nice to see it on our honeymoon, like a mint leaf on peach mousse.”

As she peered out of the window, Touko imagined. Imagined herself and Byakuya, holding hands while the sky flared in front of them, when in reality the sky may as well have been a chalkboard.

He didn’t answer right away. She didn’t look at him either, absorbed in thought. Then, Byakuya piped up.

“I think our relationship is more than that,” he said.

Touko tensed and turned to him. His brilliant eyes were fixed on hers.

“What we have together is more than natural or a coincidence,” he explained. “The timing... Our victories, battles, and traumas... Perhaps, what we have together could be described as supernatural because of how perfectly everything lined up, as if we were destined to be together.”

His words blew a gust through Touko that both rejuvenated her and knocked the wind out of her. She breathed in, found herself unable to speak. 

“Like you said, it would have been ideal if we could have witnessed the lights,” said Byakuya. “But being with you... is far greater than any force of nature.”

The back of her eyes felt hot and she nodded, which seemed enough for Byakuya, who took her hand and led her to the bed.

“Why don’t you read to me for a while?” he asked. “I packed some books.”

He showed her a selection of them, and she shuffled through them. Mystery. Mystery. Mystery novel. Then she saw a familiar cover and froze. Stared.

She went, “That’s...”

“... one of yours, yes,” he said. “I believe you published it during our first year at Hope’s Peak? It’s one of your books I haven’t got around to reading yet. I would like you to read that, if you would.”

“Of course!” Touko blurted. 

The two settled on the bed, with Byakuya resting his head on her lap, and she began reading from the first page of the book. It focused on a girl who moved into a boarding school after escaping a cannibalistic cult, though she had never eaten human meat herself, and at the school, she fell in love with a student whose parents had arranged for him to marry someone who he didn’t connect with, didn’t love, who wanted him solely for his fortune.

Touko cringed in places at some of the phrasing. A voice in her head told her how she would write it now. How she would simplify this sentence, or use a synonym with a different connotation. Despite what she considered to be its flaws, Byakuya betrayed nothing, listening contently as she read aloud. As if he didn’t notice them, or even perceive them as flaws.

Initially, she put on a distinct voice for each character, but then stopped, though when she did, Byakuya spoke.

“That’s not the voice you did before,” he told her, so she resumed doing them.

Occasionally, Touko snuck glances at the window, and an unlit sky greeted her each time. Her heart sank a bit whenever this happened, but she refused to let it dampen her spirits, remembering what she had said to him and treasuring what Byakuya had said to her. She didn’t need to see the lights, not when they had their relationship that was infinitely more precious.

It still would have been nice though.

More than nice.

Oh, well.

As the night wore on, she felt herself grow more and more tired, and Byakuya’s eyes crept shut. Touko was tempted to call it a night when she gave the window of their room one last check, and this time, she gasped.

“I think I see something!” she yelled.

In her haste, she nearly dropped her book on Byakuya’s head as she scrambled off the bed. Byakuya sat up, grabbed their camera off the bedside table and crawled off after her. 

A green streak writhed in the sky. He opened the window and began recording it, though he watched it unfiltered too. One moment, the light was shaped like a fishhook, and in the next, it straightened before curling up into a ball and melting into the weaker green hue surrounding it. Seconds after that, the green streak returned, yawning larger, brighter. It danced with the whole sky as its stage, and a faint green hue spread out from around it. As it soared, more vivid streaks of light emerged to perform alongside it.

Gradually, the entire sky became tinted green. Touko held her breath, gripping the window frame tightly. They could still see the night sky through the green shroud, sprinkled with stars. She propped her head against Byakuya’s shoulder. Byakuya shifted. Not to move away though. He wrapped his arm around her middle. Kept his hand on her side furthest from him. Held her.

Then pink light filtered in through the sea of green. It swam in the emerald ocean, twisting and leaping and billowing. The colours mixed together into a milky swirl that couldn’t help but ooze green and flare pink. Touko managed to tear her gaze away for long enough to sneak a glimpse of her husband. Byakuya was still engrossed with the light display, his lips pressed into a frown that wasn’t unhappy, just thoughtful. She turned back to the window.

Eventually, clouds rolled over, and the lights lost their intensity until the pair could barely discern them. They stayed at the window.

Touko wrung her hands together. Spoke first. “T-That was beautiful...”

“It was,” Byakuya agreed just as soberly. 

He removed his arm from around her and gently deposited the camera onto the bed. It made a dull thump, and he picked his phone up off the bedside table. Flicked the screen on.

“Two ante meridiem. It’s quite late,” he noted, and she stirred.

Earlier, when she thought the lights weren’t going to happen, she had been prepared to end the night there on the bed. Nearly fallen asleep too. Now, however, she was full of energy, which meant she could pull off what she had prepared for earlier.

The thought of it energised her further. Electricity scuttled up her body. Burst out of her in a squeak. Touko twitched.

“W-Wait!” she exclaimed, thrashing her hands. “We can’t go to sleep. N-Not yet...!”

Byakuya blinked. She unzipped the front of her onesie and stripped it off, dragging the outfit down to her feet. His breath caught in his throat as she straightened up. He stared.

“Is that my underwear?” he asked, eyeing the black thong.

Touko nodded. It was all she was wearing now. Byakuya pursed his lips and turned his head to one side. Pushed up his glasses.

“I wondered why you were wearing that thing,” he admitted, referring to her onesie. “And why you got changed in the bathroom this time. I mean, that thing isn’t ugly... but...”

“Cat girls can be sexy, right?” she asked him, and she pawed the air with one hand for good measure.

“Yes. No. I mean, only if it’s you,” he said, getting redder and redder. “It’s just... It’s funny you did that, because...”

She wondered which funny he meant. Byakuya unbuttoned his pajama shirt from the top. As more of his chest became exposed, Touko’s mouth cracked open.

“T-That’s...” Touko started, trailing off. He pulled down his pajama trousers. She ogled him. “That’s my underwear...!”

Her red bra and panties, to be precise.

“It seems we had the same idea,” he said, gesturing to himself. “So I assume we also thought up the same thing that happens next?”

Touko whispered in his ear. His eyes widened.

“... I didn’t plan for that much anal, but I’ll take it,” he said, and he pulled her onto the bed, on top of him, and the night carried on with both of them smiling brighter than any lights that had been outside.

[saundraswriting]

S.C Books Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Eren, Mikasa, and Armin live together off-campus for college. They go to Trost University, where the rest of the 104th fill in. Levi and Hange run Survey Corps Books or S.C. Books as a team, with Petra Moblit and Oluo. Eren's life hasn't been pleasant but the discovery of his second favorite place has made it a little better. Levi is aware of his near constant presence at the shop, confused as to how a college student can afford his book and coffee habit. Through unwelcome meddling from their friends, the two fine themselves growing closer. Possibly too close for a traumatized college student and slightly neurotic bookstore owner to be.

NOTES: I have not watched all of AoT or read the manga. I probably won't ever either. I have seen/read enough to know what is happening. I am enjoying being tangently attached to this fandom but also my existence thrives in canon divergence/modern setting au's and that is where I stay. usually.

WARNINGS: Eren/Levi ship but aged up in a modern setting, some SH references(physical and mental) language, suicidal thoughts, panic attacks, more warnings to come as I write(very slowly)

read it here on Ao3 (Which I recommend for better tagging)

Masterlist // Ao3 // Anime Masterlist

The chime ringing through the back room at 5 in the morning was a surprise. Levi was the only one at his bookstore/café to meet the extremely early customer. Levi came out of the small kitchen in the back, drying his hands off with a towel.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I though today was Hange's morning to work. I apologize." The smooth voice cut Levi off before he could speak. Levi looked up and froze, not often did Levi work the counter of his own establishment. The store was rather large but was tucked into away a bit so his 4 employees handled it just fine. He was glad this was one of those days. The tall green eyed wonder staring at him was one of the few regulars he had. Levi didn't know his full name, or why some weeks he practically lived at the store but he did know the three different way he took his coffee and the one way he took his tea. Levi knew that he was attractive and clean and polite.

"It was. They went on a bender after reading a weird article and overslept. Their husband texted me to ask me to cover." Levi told the kid. The kid nodded like he understood and with as often as he was there, Levi didn't doubt that Hange had roped the kid into a discussion or two.

"Again, sorry. I'll get going then. I was coming in to say hi and see if the machines were running. But I am an hour early for when you open." The kid looked down rubbing his already messy hair. He looked ready to bolt.

"It's fine, kid. I have a machine running already. I am no spring chicken, I need coffee to get up this early anymore. I was getting ready for the rest when you came in." Levi told him. The kid looked up hopeful, eyes slightly bloodshot. "I can only do regular coffee right now, or I'd do your Monday special." Levi said. He looked apologetically at the student, sympathizing with him.

"You know my coffee order?" He looked surprised. He blinked. "I am fine with regular coffee. I'll need-"

"3 creams and 6 sugars. How you can call that swill coffee I will never know." Levi cut him off. He turned around and made the coffee, wanting to hurry so he could look at the kid some more. 'Stop, he is much too young for you.'He tried to shake off the invasive thoughts but the urge to peek at the kid who'd been sitting at his table for what felt like years was strong.

"Just cause I hate the bitterness doesn't make it swill. Sorry we all can't have as refined taste buds as you. I rather like enjoying my drink." The kid snarked while your back was turned. 'He's witty. And attractive.' Levi sighed, this kid was almost too much for 5 am.

"Here you go brat. Enjoy your drink." The kid swiped his card, already drinking heavily from the cup. "I'll let you know when I get the espresso machine up." Levi told him as he finished the transaction. The kid looked up at him, with a grin powerful enough to run the damn city.

"Thanks, Levi. Do you mind if I sit in my spot? I have some work to finish up." The kid hadn't moved from the spot at the counter.

"Fais ce que tu veux." Do what you want. Levi muttered under his breath waving as he ducked into the kitchen. He wasn't sure how the kid knew his name, Hange could have pointed him out or mentioned him but he seemed to know exactly who Levi was.

"I don't know what that means but I will take it as a yes." Levi heard through the swinging door. Levi busied himself with getting the small food stuffs ready for opening and even getting them ready for lunch. He put the breakfast stuff in the oven and put the lunch stuff from the freezer into the cooler to thaw. He was just setting the timer when the door chime went off again.

"Oh! Eren, you're here?" A loud high pitched voice told Levi who it was without looking. Levi did not step closer to the door to hear the kid's-Eren's response.

"Yeah. Levi let me stay. I feel bad. I don't mean to be an imposition." Eren sounded bothered and instantly his face came to Levi's mind wearing a small frown. Levi had spent enough time watching Eren over the last couple years, he knew exactly what he looked like.

"If he thought you were imposing then you wouldn't be here. Don't worry." Hange's voice got louder meaning they were getting closer. Levi scrambled back a few steps and then mentally cursed, he never scrambled anywhere. "Get back to your work, Eren. I'll bring you over a Monday special, I just need to check in with the boss man." Hange stepped through the door to see Levi unconvincingly fiddling with the oven.

"Hange. About time you fucking got here. What is this I hear, you let Eren come in before opening?" Levi demanded. He was trying to keep his cocky attitude but Hange was one of the few that new him best.

"I am sorry, but you know how I get sometimes. I just can't help myself." Hange smiled broadly. "Also, Eren is a good kid. Been dealt a shitty hand but good. I like 'em." Hange shrugged. "He lives with some friends but I think he likes having a space to himself. Anyway!" Hange began darting around the kitchen trying to get things ready so Levi could go back to his job. "You head back to the office, boss. I got it from here. Thank you!" Levi rolled his eyes and headed back into the office, trying to ignore his growing curiosity about Eren.

Later that morning, Levi came out of his office to check on everything to see Eren still at the table he sat at flipping through text books and scrawling down messy notes. He had a little more color than this morning but was still looking haggard. 'Eren is a good kid. Been dealt a shitty hand but good.' Unbidden Hange's comment came to the front of his mind. As he watched, Eren shook out his left arm, rubbing from wrist to mid-forearm looking like he was drowning. Levi felt a pang of sympathy for the young man, he quickly grabbed a pastry and made a cup of green tea. Ignoring the confused stares of Hange and Petra. He walked over and lightly tapped his shoe against Eren's failing to smother a smirk when he jumped.

"Hey, brat. Are you trying to fuse with my furniture today or will you be leaving at some point?" Levi said. Eren blinked up at him before the words sank in.

"Levi! Hi. Um, no. I usually have a class right now but the professor cancelled. So I have been here, quietly sucking up all your wifi and spewing bad vibes. I can leave if you want?" Eren asked, a small hopeful look on his face.

"Oi, stop looking at me like that. If I wanted you gone, you'd be gone. You practically live here. I see no reason to change that now." Levi sat down across from the kid, ignoring that heavy stares his employees were giving him. "What are you studying so intensely you freaked out?" Levi asked. He still kept his treats, waiting for the best moment.

"Calculus. I am going into the art fields but I also want a bio degree in case of later, looks like if I play my cards right I will end up with a Bachelor in Science with chemistry and math minors and an Bachelor in Art with a minor in English and Psychology." Eren sighed. "Not like I chose this but I am taking so many classes to begin with for my double major that the minors all kind of happen. Especially at Trost, so much overlap for each dept. So I will be a jack of all trades buried under a lot of debt." Eren chuckled.

"Wait, I thought I heard you and Shitty Glasses that you were given a full academic ride?" Levi peered at him. Eren's green eyes widened and a pretty blush spread across his cheeks.

"I am. Yes. I don't like to talk about it. Trost only gives full rides to the top 10 kids of the high school's class. I know a lot of people who go to Trost don't have the luxury of free schooling, so I try not to mention it. It makes me uncomfortable when I can't relate to others." Eren shrugged. He looked at the clock on his computer, and closed his textbooks with the pens and notebooks still inside. Levi glanced at his left arm and saw the discoloration of a long scar. It was tapered at the top and bottom, it healed nice but Levi could only think of one thing that made scars like that.

"Are you leaving?" Levi was reminded how he didn't know this kid's schedule and this meager attempt at getting to know him after all this time was ridiculous.

"No. Thought now would be a good time for a break. I try to take ten minutes every hour to look at my phone or whatever. I sometimes walk the store too, give Hange a stack of books to buy later." Eren shrugged. Levi was instantly captivated. This kid was gorgeous, witty, smart, talented, polite, and somehow loaded? Levi wanted-no, needed-to know more.

"Good thing, I thought you could use a break too. Here, A blueberry scone and a honey lemon green tea. I know the tea is new but I think you will like it. It may even help with anxiety." Levi pushed the mug and plate over, with a very small smile on his face. Eren looked between the offering and Levi before beaming. He quickly sanitized his hands, which earned him points with Levi before breaking the scone in half.

"I am assuming-dangerous I know-that this is on the house. If so then I will only accept if you share it with me. Or else, I will pay Hange, right now." Eren's eyes twinkled playfully, matching the smile on his face. Levi sighed in defeat and Eren's grin grew bigger.

Before either of them could say anything, Hange was putting down a clean plate and a cup of black tea before winking and skipping away. Levi felt a shiver of apprehension go down his spine. They would definitely terrorize him over this later. Eren has been visiting for months now, staying some days past close or coming in before opening and staying the whole day, sometimes looking well and sometimes looking like he could run away from his thoughts fast enough, and today of all days Levi decides to sit down and share a scone with this stranger/customer. Levi put his half on his plate with the distinct feeling he lost at something but the soft, warm smile Eren was wearing made it worth it, somehow. The two of them sat, chatting lightly until both their plates and mugs were empty.

"Hey, Levi?" Eren asked. Levi looked up from where he had stacked the dishes, getting ready to leave. "Thank you for everything today. I really enjoyed the company." Eren looked up from the spot on the table he had been staring at to grin at Levi. His green eyes shining and dimples showing.

"Tch. Don't get used to it, brat. Get back to work, you slacked enough today." Levi pushed his chair in and headed back to his office, ignoring the urge to turn around.

"Yes, sir." Eren said to his retreating back. Eren saw his shoulders move in a sigh and Eren couldn't help but smile again. Levi had always distracted and caught his attention. He saw Levi one day in the store and decided to go in, Eren was glad every day he made that slightly impulsive decision. The shorter man with his sharp blue eyes and sharper tongue had Eren hook, line and sinker. Once he arrived for the day not much could pull him away, always wanting one more secret look or overheard joke. Many days, Eren felt like his thoughts were too much, the day too long, the night too short but a couple hours in the café/bookstore with his art tablet were enough to settle him down. He hadn't felt this stable since before his mom died. He was enjoying school and friends and even if some days were bad days, that was all they were, and he knew he could try again the next day.

Eren pulled out his books again, wanting to get a little ahead in his class that was cancelled today, but he was sure it was for nothing. His head was full of Levi. He had welcomed him in early and even gave him a free snack. He talked to Eren, like he really wanted to know about him. He asked about his friends and classes and how his art was coming, Eren realized Levi must watch him as much as Eren watched him. Now Eren's nose was full of his cedar and tea tree oil scent and the image of Levi in a button up rolled to the elbows and looser fit slacks. Eren wondered how much muscle was hidden under his clothes, he had seen Levi carry some heavy boxes around. His arms were well defined and his thighs were perfectly snug in his pants. Eren shook his head, trying to focus and lose the warmth in his cheeks he knew was visible.

After a couple more hours of studying, Eren packed up his school books and pulled out a large binder and a tablet and sketchbook. He had several friends that were going to school to be game developers and as a friend he told them he would help out with character design and lore, since he like to write and draw. Once he got set up he went up to the counter where Hange was just finishing up for the day. "Hange, you haven't left already?" Eren looked confused before checking the time on his watch.

"I came in a little late, so I stayed an extra two hours. Petra is closing with Oluo tonight." Hange put their apron in the dirty laundry bin at the end of the counter. "Did you need something? I can ring you up before I clock out at least." Hange said.

"Yes please. I really shouldn't but I need to finish like 3 characters for Armin and Jean. They had some big changes to the designs I gave them last week." Eren paused, hesitating ever so slightly. He looked around suspiciously. "I need to pay for the treats Levi and I shared. I know I told him it was okay, but I don't want him to make a habit of it, ya know?" Eren rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. "I don't want to be seen as a mooch." Hange grinned, glasses glinting scarily under the lights.

"So you need a early evening pick me up and then 1 black tea, 1 Green Tea and 1 blueberry scone? Is that right?" Hange said, a bit louder than acceptable.

"Hange! Shush. Please. That is everything." Eren held a finger to his lips, trying not to flush under her staring.

"Why not accept the gift as it came? Eren, I get where you are coming from, I do. I have to say though, this is the first time he has shown any interest in someone who is new. I know that you have been here for ages already but think. Levi doesn't make uncalculated decisions. I know you are interested and I know he is. If you snub his fist gift, then what happened today may be as far as this goes. Do you understand?" Hange held her finger over the screen , ready for Eren choice.

"Fine, I will take my early evening pick me up and whatever you want instead." Eren said. He looked nervous. "Thanks Hange, I appreciate you help, even though I know it comes from a warped place." Eren chuckled before handing over his payment. Hange sent their order off and clocked out. She waited at the counter for her and Eren's drink. Eren, knowing this headed off to the stacks of books seeing if anything new caught his eye. There were a few art books that had just came in that he quickly grabbed, animated and 2-D character books. He bought them and headed back to his seat where Hange arrived a moment later.

"I can't stay long. I have to go. But I will thank you for the beverage. I will also tell you that while you may think my concern for the two of you comes from a warped place, it also comes from love. Eren, I don't know everything about you. I don't know why some days you looks like the world rests on your shoulders and why some days you look like a 20 something living his best life. I do know that you are an amazing kid though. I know more about Levi than I probably should but I don't know what he is thinking. I don't know why he has preferred all these years to be alone, pardon his family. I will say, I haven't seen him sit down and enjoy a conversation like today in a very long time. So treasure the fact that you are important to Levi Ackerman, for that is no small feat." Hange was uncharacteristically serious, fiddling with their to-go cup. She quickly brightened. "If you have sex, will you take pictures? Or record it? I need to know if that guy is a top or bottom desperately, and I am dying to know your preference too." Hange laughed boisterously at the terror clearly seen on Eren's face. "I am kidding...unless?" Hange wiggled their eyebrows.

"Hange! If you are done harassing my customers then leave. You are scaring the poor kid. He looks like he is about to shit himself." Levi came up to the table saving Eren from having to answer.

Hange pouted. "You ruin all my fun." She looked at her phone to check the time. "I got to jet. There is a program I want to see. Bye!" They darted off, not worried about the terror they left behind.

"Oh my gosh. She is terrifying. Anyway." Eren seemed to shake himself off. "Are you going home?"

"Yeah. I've been here long enough. I got nothing left to do today, so might as well head home." Levi scanned his cafe with sharp eyes.

"Everything okay, Levi? You seem tense." Eren looked around but didn't see anything to cause the reaction.

"Nothing. What about you, brat? You got someplace to be today?" Levi nudged his bag gently with his toes.

"Yeah. I have a 5 pm anatomy lab once a week. I am there until 9 or 10 most nights. I have to get going soon. I should also drop by the house too, check in with Mikasa and Armin." Eren told him. He began packing up his things carefully. "Can I walk you to your car? Or is that being to presumptuous?"

"Maybe a little. But I don't mind." Levi waited until Eren grabbed all his stuff, the new art books included. The two of them walked out, tossing farewells over their shoulder to the closing staff.

"Thank you for walking me to my car, Eren. I feel more like a damsel in distress with each second." Levi's eyes usually harsh and narrow had softened slightly and had a glint to them. Eren could read the intended humor. "Good luck in class. I will see you later." Levi got in his car, not denying that he did feel safer, almost protected when Eren didn't turn away until he turned his car on. Levi pulled away from the curb where he was parked while Eren turned to start the trek to his house to get ready for his anatomy lab/class.

************************************************************************

Any thoughts? Any at all? Hope you liked it!

[itchapter3]

Here it is, my gift for this year’s It Fandom Secret Santa

Ao3 Link (x)

My Secret Santa was @dark-alice-lilith​ I hope you like it! I used the prompt for college au/staying in the dorms over break with the paring eddie/richie.

@itfandomsecretsanta​

The door opens and a brief gust of wind bursts through as a giant shapeless blob of coats, scarves, and reusable shopping bags shuffles in. Eddie looks up from his laptop screen to see this before it disappears behind the barrier that separates the dorm rooms’ shared kitchen from the laundry room.

Going back to the work in front of him Eddie decides to ignore the interruption until-

“Fuck!”

More shuffling, the sounds of containers being stacked and moved around then, once more with feeling.

“Fuck…”

Eddie closes his laptop with a sigh and prays that this is not a huge mistake.

“You okay in there?”

Some more shuffling, then an actual human being emerges from behind the wall.

And… he’s actually kind of cute Eddie’s traitorous mind notices. Beneath all the layers of coats and scarves he’s a tall, dark haired, blue eyed dream with admittedly silly looking glasses, but bone structure that more than made up for it.

“Just debating on whether or not I should try and walk all the way back to the store to get an egg or just end it all here and now.”

“Well I’d appreciate you not turning the common area into a crime scene I really wouldn’t advise going out there again, I’ve already gotten three seperate warnings about the snowpocalypse happening outside.” Eddie gives the guy another once over, despite the hat the ends of his hair are still dripping with melted snow. Taking pity on him he continues. “I may have a carton of eggs in my mini fridge, if you tell me exactly what you’re attempting to do with them.”

The other guy smiles and holds up a bag of flour.

“How do you feel about chocolate chip cookies?”

Eddie smiles back.

“Hmm… I deem them… worthy of me walking to my room to get eggs.”

“Yes!”

His arm shoots up in victory.

Eddie grabs his keys and laptop and by the time he looks up from that there is an arm holding the door open for him. He nods and leads the way.

The guy follows him, mostly quietly, though he does hum a few notes along the way.

“Eddie.” He says as they both reach the dorm room.

“Yes?”

“I just realized we never actually introduced ourselves.” He says, pointing out the name tag still taped to the door. “I’m Richie.”

“Oh, shit.” Eddie feels like hitting himself over the head, he just basically invited a total stranger into his room. At least he seems nice enough, has a nice enough name, although it seems a little familiar for some reason. “Nice to meet you, Richie…”

He unlocks the door then, in a sudden moment of clarity whips around with an accusatory finger pointed at-

“Richie!”

“Eddie!” He tries to mirror back, but Eddie just narrows his eyes at him.

“You- You were the one that started that snowball fight last week!”

He can remember clearly now the last time he heard that name, an exasperated ‘ Richie! ’ yelled from the quad between the dorm’s two halls during finals week just before the sounds of projectiles being thrown and the window shaking crack of one hitting his own started up.

He had looked outside at the time, but all he could make out through the fog was two figures mercilessly pelting each other, alone. It would have been pretty funny had it not completely thrown off his concentration on his online Intro to Psych final.

“Guilty?” He gives Eddie a crooked grin, which shouldn’t be cute, it should be annoying right now!

“I was going to bargain for it later, but I’m officially staking claim to half of the cookies since you almost broke my window!”

Richie just nods.

“That seems… a fair and worthy payment.”

“Good, because it is.” Eddie shoots back.

He throws the laptop on his bed and goes for the fridge underneath it, pulling out a half-dozen carton of eggs.

Richie is scanning the various movie and band posters around the room with appreciation when he looks up and Eddie feels an excited dip in his stomach despite himself, he’s pleased that Richie seems to have similar tastes as him.

“Got ‘em” He says.

Richie smiles.

“My hero!”

He hums, more happily on the way back to the common area, until he clears his throat.

“So, not to sound ungrateful but who the fuck keeps eggs in a dorm room? Aren’t those specifically made to hold beer and like… a jar of pickles you only open if you’re extremely high?”

“I am feeling the strangest sense of pity for your roommate right now.”

“Don’t, he’s a monster.” He says with a fond tone that makes it obvious he’s joking.

“Well, if you must know I don’t completely trust the cleanliness of the cafeteria and scrambled eggs are pretty much the only thing I know how to make.” Truth be told since moving out he’s probably been living on way too many frozen meals than is completely healthy, but that’s still better than getting salmonella from dodgy cafeteria food.

“That… is fair enough. I once picked up a spoon from the bin that had a piece of lettuce just full on stuck to the side of it.”

“And if I hadn’t already blacklisted it, that story alone would be enough to keep me from going there.”

“That’s exactly what my roommate said when I told him! You’ve got to meet Stan the man, Eddie!”

Eddie nods agreeingly, but something makes him want to take Richie up on that offer. He also really wants to introduce Bev to him, there’s just something that makes him feel like they would get along like a house on fire.

Once they’re back in the kitchen they start up cooking and chatting. It’s easier than Eddie expected to keep up a conversation and it turns out they have a lot in common, classes, comic books, taste in movies. Eddie measures as Richie stirs and soon enough they’re getting close to done.

“Ugh… my mom always makes this look so easy.” Richie looks at the recipe, pours a little more flour, directly from the bag, into the very sticky dough, and looks at the recipe again.

Eddie hums to himself, not having experience with either baking or watching his mother bake, but happy to watch the trial and error.

“Okay, I think it may be good now.”

Eddie looks over, and it definitely looks like cookie dough, hopefully it tastes like it too.

“Looks like it.”

As the cookies are baking Eddie hears a beep from the other side of the room and remembers why he had been in there in the first place.

“Wait!”

Eddie rushes to the dryers and pulls out a pile of soft fabrics. When he gets back he hands one over to Richie who takes it immediately before he even realizes what it is.

At the recognition he moans, pressing the dryer-warmed blanket to his face.

“I literally owe you my life now, Eds”

Eddie laughs at the muffled praise.

“I forgot I put those in there, I usually put them in on ten minute cycles just to keep me warm while I’m working.”

“Mmmm,” He finally removes the blanket from his face, instead draping it over his shoulders like a cape. “So you always spend the holidays here? This is my first time, it’s deader than I expected.”

“Yeah, it’s really usually only me and the RA’s around here. So, why did you decide to stay here instead of going home for break this time?”

“Eh, didn’t have much of a reason to go home, I mean, my family’s Jewish but we don’t really celebrate, I usually just go over to my friend Stan’s house, but he abandoned me now that he’s got some new hot piece to bring home.” He sighs dramatically. “So here I am, abandoned and alone, luckily I’ve been at the mercy of a very generous and very cute stranger, so I have high hopes for not getting murdered in this ghost town of a school.”

Eddie laughs, a blush rising in his cheeks at the mention of him being called cute.

“Well, don’t hold your breath, if I wasted my eggs on mediocre cookies I have been known to strike out in anger.”

Richie lets out a whistle.

“Well, I didn’t take you for the vengeance type.” He says in what Eddie guesses is supposed to be a cowboy accent.

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do then, partner.” Eddie drawls back at him, making him laugh.

When Richie sobers up he speaks again.

“You should come help me eat these in my room. Stan’s got this mondo TV with Netflix built right in! We can watch all the classics, pretend like we’re having a real Christmas!”

“I thought you were Jewish?”

“And I am selflessly putting that aside for you today, Eddie. Think of my sacrifice and then say no to my face.” He makes a face which must be his ridiculous attempt at puppy dog eyes. “Hmmm?”

Eddie lets out a laugh despite himself.

“Fine, fine. Only because of the sacrifice you’re making though, I live to see you suffer.”

Soon enough, the oven timer beeps and Richie pulls out a baking sheet full of perfectly browned, sweet smelling, chocolate chip cookies. Eddie burns the tip of his tongue, but declares them better than mediocre and they pack them up to head to Richie’s room in the other hall.

“Wow, your hall really gets into the holiday spirit… I’m actually pretty sure this is a fire hazard.” Eddie says as he takes in the canopy of white, red, and green lights hanging from every available surface.

“Yeah, I say blame Mike, he gets really into it and he’s somehow charmed all the RA’s into looking the other way when it comes to christmas lights.” Richie sighs fondly.

“I like it, we’d never get away with something like this in my hall.”

Eddie looks around, eyes bouncing from the perfectly arranged strings, overlapping and entwining with others. It really is a beautiful scene, more festive than he imagined ever seeing, and on campus no less.

“I guess you’ll have to come over here more often then, you should see what Mikey does for Easter!” He grins.

“I might just have to take you up on that.” And Eddie meant it, honestly as much as this break had taken a turn for the better he couldn’t wait until it was over so he could meet Richie’s friends, and introduce his own in turn.

Once inside Richie’s dorm, Eddie took a minute to take it in. It’s a lot bigger than his own since it’s a double, which he knows is shared with Stan, and the two sides could not be more different. One is meticulously organized, dorm standard furniture in the pre-approved configuration, bed made to what Eddie guesses would be military standards, textbooks stacked cleanly on the desk, the few personalizations seemed to be a few bird posters and brain teaser puzzles scattered around.

“I told you Stan’s a nerd!” Richie calls, noticing him looking around.

The other half looks more lived in, much more lived in. It’s darker, the walls are almost completely covered in posters and the dark blue plaid bedspread, which is not anywhere near made up, gives it a grungy sort of look. Eddie knows before he even processes it that this side must be Richie’s, and he takes his time looking over the little details that make it his. He’s got books and binders in a pile that honestly looks like he just turned over his backpack and let things fall where they would. The posters are mostly bands, David Bowie, The Cure, Nirvana, and a few that Eddie doesn’t recognize, must be newer ones by the look of them, he’s also got tickets from shows he’s been to taped up between the posters, mostly concerts but a few musicals and even one for a local drag show.

Eddie also notices the rather large TV set up against the far wall so that it can be seen well from either bed.

Richie must have been busy while Eddie was snooping because when he turns around from looking at the TV he's got the remote in one hand and about half of the cookies they made on a plate in the other.

“Pretty sweet right?” He says, motioning for Eddie to take a seat on the bed.

Eddie nods.

“After you.”

Richie obliges, putting the plate down so he can climb up on the messy bed. He pulls the pillows up to the head as he gets himself comfortable, on top of the duvet but under the blanket Eddie had given him.

Eddie follows him up, sitting with his back up against the headboard and looks down at Richie.

“Well, what are we watching?”

As Richie rattles off the different services Stan has built into the TV and Eddie just hums along and let’s Richie choose Netflix to start while he tries to focus on the words he’s saying rather than the warmth of him lying so close. Eddie’s a little afraid if he opens his mouth to talk he’ll scream out loud about how he’s sitting in Richie’s bed right now . Richie who is very cute and very nice and even pretty funny and has friends who sound pretty great too who he can’t wait to meet, and now he’s thinking about how much Bev would like him and-

It’s a lot, Richie’s a lot. But Eddie kind of likes that about him.

After Eddie’s vetoed three separate hallmark-esque rom coms, and Richie’s vetoed an admittedly pretty horrible looking movie about cgi kittens they land on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer which Eddie has never seen and Richie argues that that in itself is a crime.  

After that’s over they decide to continue on with the series and somewhere around The Year Without Santa and Frosty the two of them conk out, the comfort and warmth lulling them asleep in Richie’s shared bed.

Richie wakes up first.

“Eddie...Eds!” He gives him a little shake as the credits music pours into the room.

He’s close enough that he can see Eddie crack an eye open.

“Mmm, lemme get your glasses.”

Richie doesn’t have time to process that because Eddie is turning around in a sleepy, cat-like stretch, reaching over the bed to where Richie really can’t see, but knows that his bedside table sits. Then he hands over the glasses and all at once Eddie comes into focus, his hair is sleep-ruffled, his eyes are still not-quite awake, there’s a red splotch on his face from where his hand must have been pillowing it, and all Richie can really focus on is how many freckles he has on his nose.

It takes Richie a minute but he realizes, once his vision is completely back to normal, that Eddie is staring at him too. His wide brown eyes are now locked onto his.

“You lookin’ at the zit on my nose?” Richie glances at him sideways before pushing himself completely up to face him. He presses a finger to the tip of his nose. “Just like Rudolph, huh?”

“I like Ruldolph! I think he’s cute…” Eddie huffs, a blush rising on his cheeks as well.

“Ohoho! I had no idea you were into beastiality, gotta say, Eds, you keep a man on his toes.”

“Shut up.” He warns.

Richie grins, he’s quickly finding that the more riled up he can get Eddie the better.

“I mean, does this thing of yours extend to Bumble, or-”

Eddie puts his warning into action and presses his lips to Richie’s, directly shutting him up.

Richie melted into the kiss, Eddie’s soft and warm against him, and he can taste the chocolate from the cookies they made together. It’s nice and sweet and a little feisty just like Eddie, but it’s also shorter than Richie would have liked, he thinks, as Eddie breaks the kiss with a heavy breath.

“I’m so glad I decided to stay here over break.”

Eddie grins, and the way he does tells Richie he is too.

[peachdoxie]

Saw your dragon prince ask the other day and it got me wondering. Do you think binge-watching culture (via streaming, e.g. Netflix) has changed the way people get emotionally invested in TV series?

My gut answer was to say yes.

HOWEVER

The issue with an answer of “yes, binge watching has changed emotional investment” is that the rise of streaming does not exist in a vacuum. It coincides with a lot of other things that makes isolating any specific thing as the “cause” of a given change literally impossible and incredibly reductive to do.

Please know that I am NOT a historian of television, so there are certain points where I have to speculate and generalize. I'm basing this answer on my knowledge of the film industry and the general principle that technology, media, and culture all exist in a symbiotic relationship and change in one has an impact on the other two.

Also, when I talk about “accessibility” I am not using it in the context of disability, but instead in the context of large populations, ie, not the elites who can afford anything. While changes in  disabled accessibility do impact technology and media developments, it's not part of this response and I'm not the right person to talk about it.

It is true that online streaming has radically changed how accessible media is for basically everyone. It's cheaper and easier, in general, to watch TV shows and movies. People are no longer restricted to watching stuff just in a theater or when it's on the TV, but can access it anywhere they have an internet connection. Watching whatever media is no longer strained by either schedule or physical location. It is far easier than literally any other time in history to binge TV shows.

However, the ability to binge watch and the bingeability of TV shows has not always been possible, and the two have evolved together. TV shows of the distant past, recent past, and present often follow a non-continuous storyline from episode to episode so that it's easier to watch any random episode and understand generally what's going on without having to have watched every single episode. Hence the “monster of the week” narrative form, and why there are discussions about Steven Universe filler episodes vs seasonal narrative arc episodes. It's also why, if you get an episode starting with the “previously on” prologue, you know shit's about to go down. It's mostly so that the casual viewer to pick the show up on reruns instead of the fan who knows the release schedule and watches every episode when it premieres, though their impact is important too. I know that TV viewership numbers on premieres are really important in the television industry and have an impact on what gets made and what doesn't and what kind of ads are shown and on and on.

Again, I'm not a TV historian, so I can't give you exact specifics, and it's important to know that changes in media follow trends, not linear cause-and-effect lines. What I'm giving is a generalization of these trends as I know of them, but there's a lot of overlap in how industries change over time and none of it happens at once. Keep this in mind when reading what I say next.

The addition of season/series narratives to TV is related to changes in technology and accessibility. As TV units became cheaper to buy, more people bought them, which meant more development into their technology by the industry. And as TV became easier to produce and distribute, production companies had to come up with new ways to draw in audiences. All of these things and a thousand other factors in technology, media, and culture changed how people watched TV and thus changed how it was made. This is likely part of the reason why seasonal/series narrative arcs in TV developed and became popular. Granted, people have been sluts for long media sagas since like, ever, so that's relevant as well. Producers know that's popular, so they start making it, it's kind of a chicken and egg thing.

The thing is, though, is that the growth of large-scale streaming sites didn't just suddenly cause the rise in binge watching. While I don't think it was called “binge watching” until very recently, I'd argue that people have been able to binge things before the rise of streaming sites. In my experience, it used to be a “marathon” of TV watching. Home entertainment has existed for decades in the forms of DVD and VHS and various other formats before streaming became popular. TV channels had and still have lengthy marathons of shows in chronological order for people to watch, and that's been around for a long time. And while I know very little about the specifics of underground fandom distribution networks, I do know that pirating and sharing has always been a concern for official distributors. If there were underground fanfiction networks sharing fics on thumbdrives and on obscure websites, which I do know existed, certainly similar networks existed for pirated TV shows. And online streaming existed for a while before it became really popular.

So it's not like people haven't been able to “binge” TV before the rise of online streaming. For a while now, it's been possible to binge watch TV shows. It's just way easier now. This is where I do know a little bit more about the television industry because online streaming is something discussed in depth in my Master's program because the same things that Netflix, etc, are doing with TV they're doing with film, and I've also lived through these changes and experienced them personally. I'm going to talk mostly about Netflix because they're the most well-known and prolific online streaming service at the moment, and they've also been around since the 90s, but most of this applies to all streaming services as well.

Netflix began as an online rental company for DVDs in the late 90s, following a similar model to Blockbuster and the fledgling Amazon, but only online and only for DVDs, which were a very new technology. Over time, they acquired more and more content and grew in usership. The company has been pretty aggressive at staying at the top of collection and technology, and so when streaming began to come into popularity, largely because of YouTube, they followed that route quickly. And because Netflix is always looking for new business opportunities to grow their popularity, the company also moved into the distribution sector of entertainment. Instead of just being based in home entertainment, they began becoming the primary distributors of certain titles.

A bit of background: I don't know exactly how the TV industry works when it comes to distribution, but I do know well how the movie industry works in that respect, and I am guessing that there are a lot of similarities between the two. The lifetime of a movie roughly follows the pattern of Production -> Acquisition -> Theatrical Exhibition -> Home Entertainment Exhibition. Distribution companies are the liaisons between the production companies and theatrical exhibition companies, with “acquisition” being the step where distribution companies fight over who gets to purchase the rights to distribute the film in theaters. Home entertainment mostly refers to physical copies of the film in the form of DVD, Blu-ray, and Video on Demand, though it also can sometimes include online streaming if a movie is added to an online streaming service at some point after its theatrical exhibition window is over. (Terminology is shifting a lot in the chaos of the film industry because of companies like Netflix, so definitions are muddled a lot.) It's likely that TV is very similar, except that instead of a theatrical distribution, it has a television distribution instead.

Netflix becoming the primary distributor of TV shows is where the single biggest change happened in relation to the question of “Do you think binge-watching culture has changed the way people get emotionally invested in TV series?” because it impacted how production companies made TV shows. As streaming grew more popular, production companies made distribution deals with Netflix so that original content would be distributed solely through Netflix. And this is where all of my background information and blathering about technology, media, and culture being interrelated comes into play. Making shows whose original mode of exhibition is online, on-demand streaming means that it no longer needs to be understandable from anyone who random turns it on, because it's only going to be watched in chronological order. It is designed to be binge watched, which changes the way the narrative flows. Shows that are designed for streaming tend to have very tight narratives without a lot of filler. The narratives can and do focus more on in-depth character building, world building, conflict, all that type of stuff that's downplayed in TV shows designed for reruns on an actual television channel.

In truth, shows made for streaming are actually designed to maximize emotional investment because it keeps people watching. In the age of the internet, there's so much content for people to choose between that getting and keeping someone's attention has to involve their investment somehow. And creating emotional investment is one of the easiest ways to do that.

It is extremely difficult to give a yes or no answer to the question at hand because identifying cause and effect is nearly if not completely impossible. Has there been a change in how people get emotionally invested in TV series? That, I believe, is true. Is binge watching culture the catalyst for that change? That's much more difficult to say. I'd almost go so far as to argue that high emotional investment is an intrinsic part of binge watching culture, but the truth is that I'm not knowledgeable enough to defend that statement entirely. And did binge watching culture come from changes in emotional investment that the industry reacted to, or did the industry notice emerging trends and adjust their shows accordingly? It's highly likely, actually, that it's both working alongside each other, and alongside a bunch of other factors as well.

Now, there are a few other things that I need to add to this answer to address the entire situation. I discussed mostly shows that are designed for online streaming and therefore binge watching. I don't know for sure how emotional investment would be different watching a show like The Office, for example, live/on reruns vs in a binge session. Obviously, there's a degree of emotional investment in any given TV show shown on a TV channel. Why else would people keep choosing to watch the same show, out of all the options being played at the same time and out of all the possible things to be doing? Emotional investment works alongside curiosity, but humans are also creatures of habit. That likely plays some role as well. But how that differs when someone's binging it instead of watching weekly or on reruns? Or how habits of binging Netflix originals impact how we watch non-streaming-designed shows? I don't know for sure. I think to answer those questions would involve a far larger evaluation of people's viewing preferences than I'm capable of. Someone may have done it. It's quite possible that relevant data exists and just needs to be compiled. Granted, the people who have that data are production and distribution companies, and they are notoriously bad at sharing that data with anyone who's not in the need-to-know.

It also depends on what type of TV show is being watched. Rachael Ray's cooking show is very different from NCIS which is very different from Teen Mom in terms of viewership populations and viewership patterns, just like the Dragon Prince is very different from Daredevil which is very different from the Ted Bundy Tapes. It's not a one-size-fits-all situation, and the things that draw people to different shows are going to be for different reasons.

And, of course, there's the impact of social media to consider. While fandoms - or, at the very least, groups of people devoted to a piece of media - have existed for millennia, the internet and massive social media sites have made it so much easier to connect with other fans of content, which certainly impacts the level of emotional investment when you're able to build up the hype with other people instead of by yourself. The rise of streaming has been fairly contiguous with the rise of massive social media websites because of the technological developments that enabled them to exist. It's likely that there's a large overlap between people who use social media a lot and people who stream things a lot. I think it's impossible to ignore the role that social media plays in encouraging people to stream a show on Netflix because of fandom culture. And also because of marketing on social media. We can't ignore the impact that marketing plays, which again is days that production and distribution companies have but won't release outside of their company.

I hope this has answered your question, anon, or at least given you an insight to how complicated studying the entertainment industry is.

Sources: I didn't actually do any research on this topic, but instead pulled from things I've learned in my undergraduate and graduate studies, as well as things learned personal experience. Specifically, from an anthropology class on the entertainment industry where I wrote a research paper on YouTube and its effects on franchised movie trailers; my three-class film history sequence; various topics from media theory; several presentations I've heard at conferences regarding the history of television; a course on the intersection between art, media, and technology; every class I've taken in my Master's program, which is about film distribution and marketing; articles and comments I've read on Facebook, Tumblr, Reddit, Wikipedia, and news sources that talk about media history; and lots and lots of practice in making connections between culture, media, and technology.

[runningwolf62]

SURPRISE IT’S UPDATE TIME! It’s so bizarre being writing this at the same time Larry is because there’s like this weird overlap, we’re like ships passing in the night he’s finally caught up to my time and now is about to pass me.

Anyway, there’s some lovely art in here and a reference to a blog that actually exists, @ask-potoo-firestar. Art belongs to @lavendersongs, thank you for your amazing contribution to the Warrior Cats fandom and for giving me permission to include references to it in this fanfic.

Beep.

Larry curls up deeper under his blankets.

Beep.

He covers his head with his pillow.

Beep.

Fine, he’ll crawl out of his nest and see what had happened, maybe Nick was in trouble again, that Godot guy seemed to have a grudge against him for something.

u ok?

Only Nick texts like that.

haven’t seen u in few days

u alive?

Larry almost fires something back before thinking better of it, Nick had far too many people around him die to joke about that.

Yeah I’m fine, and you usually don’t see me for awhile.

yeah but u had a rough time

Larry hesitates before deciding to just call Nick. The phone rings a few times before Nick answers.

“Hey Larry,” he greets him, Larry can hear voices in the background, he thinks one is Maya, the other is young and high so probably Pearl.

“Hey Nick,” Larry runs a hand over his jaw, aw gross he’d ended up with that scraggly beard, he never looked good with that, he needed to go shave, “you in a crisis?”

“No?” Nick has the gall to sound offended, “I do not only call you during crisises!”

“Mmm might wanna check you phone bill there Nicky Boy,” Larry teases him, his voice is rough, he should haul himself out of bed and start putting himself back together.

“You want to talk about having a crisis you sound like you’ve been on a bender,” Nick fires back, Larry frowned and groused at him.

“Don’t be an ass Nick, I’ve been taking a week off, chilling and relaxing before I remake myself! You called while I’m still in the cocoon man!”

“That metaphor started strong but you took it somewhere very weird,” Nick replies, Larry laughs roughly.

“Alright, alright, you’re the one who texted me,” Larry points out, wrapping his blanket around him like a cloak to hide his shame from the world and stay warm from the chillier October day. He crossed to his laptop to open his resume, he’d need to update it and he might as well do that while chatting with Nick rather than sit around feeling shitty about it.

He chats with Nick, and Maya and Pearl when they demand a chance to chat with him. He interrogate Nick, or tries, but he doesn’t know what’s up with Godot either, other than he’s got one hell of a caffeine addiction, came out of nowhere and claims to be from hell.

Given half the stories Larry’s heard about Nick’s cases he’s tempted to believe it.

“Maybe you ought to have an exorcism performed,” he teases, he’s on speaker phone now and he’s sure they can hear him typing away as he adds his latest job to the long master list of jobs he’s held, “Maya, Pearl, can you do that?”

“I’d have to exorcise the entire Prosocution’s office!” Maya bemoans, Larry grins as she outlines everything she’d need to do to Nick.

“Maybe you should, it sounds like it has a few too many demons over there even before this guy,” Larry muses, saving his resume and opening Fanfiction.net. His stomach drops and his jokes trail off. There’s several messages from XxWolfDragonxX. Shit, he’d just dropped off the map after talking to the guy daily.

He immediately types a response, assuring the guy some stuff just came up, he got fired from work, etc. but he’s doing alright. He misses a question Nick asked him until he repeats his name.

“Larry.”

“Sorry, what?” He tosses the message to WolfDragon off, his friend is probably off work it’s well after six for him.

“I asked what were you typing?”

Larry glances at his messages and then at his minimized programs. “My resume.”

He refreshed FF.net and got a message from WolfDragon.

Man it’s fine, life happens! It’s just good to hear from you again. I’m sorry for all the shit that keeps happening to you.

Again I’m so sorry, and yeah, it’s just been that kind of year.

Do you have a discord? I have something to show you but I don’t think ff.net will send it.

Oh? Uh yeah actually, one second let me find my ID number.

It takes him longer than he should be tosses the information to Wolfdragon. After a moment he gets a friend request on Discord, from a XxWolfDrgonxX surprising absolutely no one. The avatar is a gray anime wolf with yellow eyes snarling, which also doesn’t surprise Larry though he wonders where it’s from.

However he’s still on the phone with Nick, so he accepts it and turns away from the computer, “so what are you all up to asides from calling me?” He hears Pearl giggle and Maya’s voice in the background, they’re moving away, “how are they Nick?”

“They’re good,” Nick sounds happy and Larry can’t help but hurt even as he’s happy for him.

“We’re probably going to do a few things today before they have to head back,” Nick’s chair creaks audibly, “do you have plans for Halloween?”

“Uh, not really?”

“Do you want to come over to the office and hand out candy with me?”

“People come to your office for candy?”

“Surprisingly yes,” Nick sounds equally baffled by this fact, “so, are you in?”

“Do you want me to bring anything?” Larry asks, glancing at his Discord occasionally, where he can see WolfDragon typing. “Beer, Soda, popcorn and terrible horror movies?”

“Popcorn and let’s go with lighthearted movies,” Nick suggests, and Larry wonders if Pearl will be there. He’ll bring soda then, just in case. That or Nick’s gotten to be more of a scaredy-cat since their last Halloween movie festival.

“Have you seen that one cartoon thing that everyone raves about?” Larry’s seen so much art for it for Inktober so he needs to actually sit down and watch the show obviously is what that means.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, I’ll find it, it’s some kids show but everyone who’s seen it loved it,” Larry sends a quick message to WolfDragon while Nick talks.

You sure are dedicated to your brand.

It’s who I am

Furry.

WHAT IN GOD’S NAME IS THAT?!?

That’s Potoo Firestar you fool

I want to hate it but I’m laughing too hard, it’s amazing.

“Larry are you okay?” Nick asks, and Larry can’t answer, he’s wheezing at the damn Potoo Firestar, he cannot believe WolfDragon got his discord just to send him this, and that it’s somehow made him feel so much better.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he wheezes, and clicks the link that WolfDragon sends him to this person’s blog, “just saw something funny.”

He hops off the phone with Nick promising to see him on Halloween and bring candy and popcorn and the cartoon he’s seen everyone drawing if he could just remember the name.

He spends the next hour teasing WolfDragon on Discord for his avatar and username, all the while scrolling through this blog, which WolfDragon has dubbed “the only pure Warrior Cats blog”.

It doesn’t take long for him to agree though he does have a few questions.

So I miss all the discourse but I also miss blogs like this?

Listen man, some people are still stuck in the can cats be gay discourse?

Seriously?

Yeah, like sure the Erins just made a mistake making some tortoiseshell cats toms. OR they made several trans icons.

I can’t believe Tigerstar was transphobic.

Firestar made the first call out post

“OP is literally a Transphobe and murderer but go off I guess.”

Scourge: *goes the fuck off *

Listen, he wear dog teeth on his collar he can do what he likes, I’m not gonna be the guy to try and stop him.

Oh you do know they made Scourge and Firestar half-brothers right?

THEY WHAT

Yeah they have the same Dad

Oh shit I’d heard that theory but I thought it was just a fan theory

Nah they confirmed it. Also Tallstar was super gay for him

Like canonly gay or the fandom has shipping goggles glued on

Like so canonly gay that the publisher calls them good friends

What?

One of the authors says Tallstar’s heart always belonged to his Jake, but the publishers say they’re just good friends

What’s better than this, guys being dudes.

You’d probably like Tallstar’s Revenge actually, there’s a lot of your fic in it

Seriously?

Yeah man, like leaving the Clans to discover yourself the themes of forgiveness and parents and family there’s a lot of good stuff in there

I guess I’ll have to read it then.

Yeah, that blog I linked you even did fanart of Jake and Tallstar

Oh my god.

Did you find it?

Not yet, but I’m looking.

FOUND IT!

THAT’S IT

Okay that is gay.

Much like my fic.

Now I gotta man.

He did just lose his job but Larry’s got some money saved from his last paycheck and the commissions. What the hell. He makes a note to buy Tallstar’s Revenge next time he’s at the book store, and gets up.

Thanks for this.

Of course!

Is this the best way to contact you, or should I howl out the window?

Haha

FF.net or Discord works I’ll probably review your fics on FF.net still but we can chat here

Larry grins and tells him he hopes he has a good evening. He needs to clean himself up and try and rejoin society.

He showers, shaves, and pulls himself together. He also draws Wolf as a Potoo and sends that back to WolfDragon which is obviously loved, if the fact he turns his avatar into it was any indication.

-

Larry spends Halloween crashing on Nick’s couch, Maya and Nick fighting over candy while he snags some and occasionally slips a piece or two to Pearl. The kid’s clever and smiles shyly at him every time he does so.

They do settle down to watch the cartoon though Maya grumbles at points about how she wanted to watch the Steel Samurai Halloween Special.

They enjoy Over the Garden Wall though, even if it sends the girls diving to hide behind Nick at one point from the Beast. He lets Nick comfort, while he cleans up some of the trash into the popcorn bowl which he sets to the side, making sure it will not be grabbed by mistake by someone hurrying to give candy to trick-or-treaters.

He’s honestly astonished at the number that turn up at the office, until Nick says he thinks Mia used to hand the candy out, which makes sense. It’s tradition now. And Nick must’ve gotten paid because he’s got the good candy and he’s letting kids take handfuls.

He doesn’t touch that stuff only the bag Nick bought for them to share and the stuff he traded Pearl for because she didn’t like nuts in her candy. Said they got stuck in her teeth which Larry felt was a valid reason to not like them.

He tells himself that means they have protein as he pops a handful in his mouth. While Nick’s busy with some teens at the door and Maya’s tucking Pearl in on the couch he sends a message to WolfDragon.

Happy Halloween.

Technically it’s November, and I didn’t grow up in America

Spoilsport.

WHY ARE YOU AWAKE?

Work

Work can suck my dick, it’s what- oh

It’s six in the morning

You’re going to work

Yup

Listen, I don’t need your sass

It’s not sass I just woke up Writer boy

Don’t you sass Wolfman

Tell me you at least watched terrible werewolf movies in my honor

I did not.

Watched kids cartoons instead.

Warrior Cats Authors

There was an actual child in the room!

Ah what’s being introduced to fear at a young age?

Trauma I believe, and the kid’s had enough of that

You’re a good guy you know that, don’t let people tell you otherwise

“Texting a girlfriend?” Maya’s teasing voice made him jump, she wasn’t peering over his shoulder yet but she might’ve been. She might’ve seen the teasing and… no, she was looking at his face.

“Nah, just a friend,” he shoves his phone back into his pocket, she and Nick are both staring at him intensely now, he’s not sure why but they are.

He swears he sees Nick counting to three but he’s not sure why that happens either. He and Maya share a look, and Larry feels himself tense more.

He looks to Nick, whose eyes pierce him as he looks at Larry, “I thought you said you were taking a break from dating.”

“I am!” Larry insists, careful to keep his voice low, glancing to Pearl because however much they want to interrogate him he knows they’ll kill him if he wakes her.

Nick and Maya look confused again but it’s not his fault they can’t accept that he’s just friends with some people. He’s not even into guys anyway!

He shakes his head and grins at them, “glad to hear you think I have that much game though Nick.”

Maya smothers a laugh, while the edge flows out of Nick’s eyes and a smile takes its place, “you keep getting girls to date you somehow.”

“It’s that I have an artist’s soul,” Larry pulls himself up and rests his hand over his chest, grinning at the two of them.

“I went to art school too you know,” Nick points out, relaxing and smiling.

“And who taught you all those tricks for backgrounds?” Larry fires back, he’s always been the better artist for backgrounds and forms, Nick just had more practice with human anatomy. Nick huffs and shakes his head.

“I showed you how to draw men’s jawlines, ‘cause you only paid attention when the model was female-”

“Nick I’ve accepted my heterosexuality and horndog ways will be my downfall,” he fires back which obviously takes his friend by surprise, Maya too, “hey, I can have some self-awareness you know.” He glances over at Maya, “Nick, Edgey and I are allowed the common sense of one person but we have to share and Edgey came back and took it all from Nick.”

“Excuse me?” Nick looks so genuinely offended and Larry laughs, shoulders shaking.

“You took some back, TSA wouldn’t let him take it all with him.”

Maya’s grinning and apparently not taking sides as he and Nick begin to playfully jab at each other about who has more common sense, and it’s nice to be able to talk about Edgey again without Nick’s anger, to have him laugh as he talks and recounts stories from elementary school to Maya is worth the few bits of his dirty laundry that Nick airs.

They end up on the other couch, Maya curled up on Nick’s one side, Larry on the other; with jackets draped over themselves as make shift blankets.

“Larry?”

“Yeah Nick?”

“Who were you texting earlier,” Nick’s not judgmental now but he is obviously curious, maybe hoping that in his exhaustion Larry will let something slip.

And he does.

“He’s a guy I met online, we talk about like books and stuff. You wouldn’t understand, you nerdy lawyer.”

Nick laughs softly as Larry slumps against him, “that so?”

“It is,” Larry lays his head back against Nick’s shoulder, “very so.”

-

They wake up in various states of aching and trying to hide it, all of them trying to deny they’re getting old while Pearl buzzes around the office. Larry wonders briefly if she’s gotten into the Halloween candy for breakfast.

He checks his phone and there’s a few messages from WolfDragon.

You still there?

Don’t eat too much candy, aren’t you doing NaNoWriMo this year?

Larry only barely manages not to curse in front of Pearl as he realizes that he’s going to have to write his first 1667 words with one hell of a crick in his neck.

[noecat]

but i dont mind (6661 words) by firepixel Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) Rating: Mature Relationships: Jean-Jacques Leroy/Otabek Altin Tags: #JJBek week 2017 #5 plus 1 without the plus 1 type of fic #unless someone convinces me to write the plus one as 'first time they fuck' #Firsts #why does ao3 recommended tags not ship jjbek jus wondering #first meeting/dance/date/kiss/confession, in that order #Fluff Summary:

jjbek week day 1, prompt: firsts

jj looks good in neon, otabek pines, gross romantic dates happen and they fall in love sometime in between

dedicated to lia @otasucc who dragged me into this hell in the first place. thank u, i guess. i suppose. maybe. thing is under cut for those who hate ao3:

chapter 1: first meeting

Otabek first meets JJ in the bathroom of a gas station.

He’s washing his hands, looking up at his own reflection in the stained mirror, when he sees the door open as someone comes in.

Stumbles in, perhaps, is more appropriate, because the stranger seems to be drunk as fuck. Otabek snorts in sympathy before he can hold in the sound. The stranger looks up at that and grins. Their eyes catch in the mirror — holding for a long moment — before Otabek redirects his attention to the way he’s scrubbing under his own fingernails. Can never trust gas station bathrooms, after all. Once he’s satisfied with the general cleanliness of his hands he smoothes them down his face and lets the tap run out by itself. He turns to leave once it does.

‘Hey,’ the stranger calls at him from the urinal, and Otabek turns around.

He’s treated to the sight of the stranger zipping up his pants and blinking at him rapidly. Otabek raises his eyebrows.

‘What’s your name?’ The stranger inquires.

The entire encounter feels like it should be strange, but somehow it isn’t, and Otabek is responding before he can think twice about it. ‘Otabek.’

‘Oh. Otabek. Nice name,’ the stranger remarks. He tips his head. ‘You’re very attractive, you know that?’

The compliment is delivered simply, like a fact, and is sudden enough to throw Otabek off. Clearing his throat, he tries to come up with an appropriate response. ‘Thank you,’ he settles on, ‘you too.’ The last part is a reflex, the typical way Otabek responds to compliments, but the longer the stares at the stranger the more true it feels.

The stranger grins. ‘I’m JJ,’ he volunteers, and Otabek nods.

‘JJ,’ he repeats.

The silence stretches for a few beats after that. Otabek is staring, stoic, and JJ is grinning in a way that somehow makes Otabek feel like they’re already close. Even when they’re clearly not. That fact must shine through, because the not-so-much-of-a-stranger nods back at him and shuffles around a bit.

Then he makes his way back to the door, and Otabek catches it to hold it open as JJ moves past him into the dark-and-quiet night. He didn’t come alone, apparently — unlike Otabek — because there is a car on the curb and a door opens as JJ moves towards it. Otabek hears ‘bro, hurry up, we’re going to be late—’ as he walks to his own motorcycle.

‘See you around,’ JJ calls as he waves and is pulled backwards into the car. Otabek hears the door shut on the excited voices and music. It peels off into the night, and the surroundings are suddenly quiet and dark again. Quiet enough that Otabek hears the breath he lets out before he puts on his helmet. Quiet enough that the roar of his engine spills out into the night and reverberates in his bones when he straddles his motorcycle. The roar swallows up his thoughts, eventually, as the darkness blurs around him and lights flicker past in long neon smears on the edge of his vision.

He does see JJ around a lot after that.

It’s funny how they never met before, given the overlap between places JJ is at on weekend nights and places Otabek is at on weekend nights, but once they have it seems like JJ is everywhere. He’s like the moon, really — once he’s been pointed out to Otabek he sees him anytime he looks up.

He finds out that everyone who’s anyone in the scene knows JJ. It’s a lot less weird then. It’s a lot less weird that JJ recognizes him, pulls him in close with an arm around his shoulders, introduces him to his friends. They don’t even get many chances to talk one-on-one (it seems like no one gets a chance to talk to JJ one-on-one, Otabek’s convinced that the one time he got to meet him alone was some kind of glitch in the universe — statistical outlier — because JJ is never ever not surrounded by people), but somehow Otabek becomes JJ’s ‘bro’.

He’s pulled into orbit, somehow, and settles into it with a surprising lack of resistance. JJ’s friends recognize him; he recognizes JJ’s friends. The way he turns up at the same clubs as JJ is treated with the same lack of surprise as the sun setting each night.

It’s some kind of bros-at-first-sight thing, it seems, that day they’ve bumped into each other at the gas station. Otabek can’t say he minds.

chapter 2: first dance

note:this is where the M rating comes in: there is nothing explicit, but towards the end they get touchy while dancing.

In all those times they’ve met since then, Otabek has learned quite a few things about JJ. For one: he doesn’t smoke, unlike Otabek. He drinks a lot, also unlike Otabek. He has some kind of weird greeting, where he forms his own initials with his hands and smirks at the recipient — ‘it’s JJ style!’ — and then laughs, easy and warm and bright.

JJ, he learns, burns with the kind of light Otabek tries to catch between his fingertips anytime he flicks his lighter on. He never manages to. For some reason, he keeps trying again every night.

It’s not the easiest task; where Otabek at best feels like the pale glow at the tip of the stick between his fingers, JJ is more of an actual star. The light just spills out, uncontainable, winking across the dimly lit spaces with their blue-tinged smoke and neon cutting through in beams. Otabek can’t even imagine what else he would look like — what else, if not strobe lights flashing off his cheebones and pale skin drinking in neon to reflect it back in an undimmable, steady glow? — so he doesn’t waste his time imagining.

So many words, just to say that JJ’s personality is naturally magnetic.

Otabek, half helpless moth, half sensible goth, is attracted to him with every piece of metal in his body and then more besides. There’s iron in his blood — maybe that explains the way his skin buzzes when JJ brushes too close on his way to the bar, the way it sings at the press of leather-clad muscle against his back when JJ leans against him momentarily to steady himself.

In a way, this reminds him of something he used to do back when he studied all through the night and zoned out sometime ages past his bedtime to stare at the lightbulb hanging a foot from his face. He’d lift his hand, inching his fingertips closer and closer to the glass, heat intensifying until he came in contact with smooth-hot-burning. The light would glow through the red-tinged tips of his fingers, and he’d see how long he could hold them there, how close, before he inevitably got burned and had to blink the light out of his eyes to refocus on the paper.

Touching JJ for the first time feels a lot like that.

The place is so packed it feels a lot like he’s touching everyone at once — insistent hands as much part of the ambience as the pounding music and the pulsing dim lights. There’s a hand on his hip; another brushes itself against the line of his shoulders as someone presumably grasps him for balance, and there’s another set of hands resting on his waist trying to edge up past his leather jacket. He doesn’t know who he’s dancing with. He doesn’t particularly care.

He finds it hard to care about anything when the only force acting on him is the centripetal pull JJwards. Center-seeking, indeed, somehow never getting any closer – and yet, and yet, Otabek has been orbiting JJ for the third hour and he can’t seem to stop. He’s the unfortunate Earth to JJ’s sun; just close enough, just far enough, and even when he’s turned around he can feel the heat on his back.

It takes a single push to send his trajectory crashing gracelessly with JJ’s.

‘Where’s my bro,’ JJ loudly questions no one in particular with a waggle of eyebrows that suggests that he knows exactly what he sounds like (not much like himself) and unapologetically sounds like it anyway. The teasing lilt to his voice is not gravity that Otabek can avoid. The momentum draws him, inevitably, forwards.

Or maybe it’s all the hands; it doesn’t take long before the crowd responds in its own way, like some kind of strange hivemind extension of JJ’s will. Hands gently prod him and tug at his sleeves and voices raise themselves a little to carry over the music to inform JJ that ‘there he is, coming over here’, and Otabek has very little choice as to whether he’s going to be here coming over there.

He goes willingly, leather jacket and all.

He’s deposited in front of a grinning JJ like a particularly brooding log washed up on a shore. JJ unglues himself from two girls, unwinding their arms from his torso and wiping lipstick off his neck. His eyes are alight — brighter, even, when they settle on Otabek.

‘Let’s dance,’ JJ says, offhand, and drags Otabek back into the crowd.

The crowd obligingly swallows them both.

And this time, it’s JJ’s hands on him; hot-dry on Otabek’s side through his t-shirt, just above his hipbone, and curled around his shoulder inching up to his neck. JJ presses in close, swaying, all-consuming, eyes almost closed behind fluttering eyelashes. Otabek doesn’t recall when he last took a breath.

The hand on his hip shifts, upwards, and then JJ’s thumb is swiping across his skin like a brand. Otabek is struck with the need to do something, anything, so he settles a hand hesitantly on JJ’s side and brings the other one to JJ’s upper back. It seems to be the right thing to do, because JJ hums and sways in even closer, hot breath on the collarbone opposite the one his palm is covering. Otabek masks a shiver with the motion of turning them both around.

When Otabek’s next step brings his leg between JJ’s, there is a catch in the breath fanning over his neck. JJ thumps his forehead down against Otabek’s shoulder, breath coming harsher, and something in Otabek feels like he’s rapidly approaching terminal velocity in this freefall. His fingers dig into JJ’s leather-covered back on reflex; the hand he has on JJ’s side sneaks its way further back, and lower, until it brushes over denim. He spreads his fingers, palm pushing down as his thigh bears up.

JJ makes some kind of sound at that, swallowed up by the noise around them. Otabek wonders if this is what meteors feel like, moments before they burn up entirely. -- ‘You’re very attractive, you know that?’ -- he remembers. With JJ in front of him hanging on for dear life the compliment seems soberingly real.

The music builds up, anticipation climbing higher and higher, and somehow JJ’s fingers are wound loosely in Otabek’s hair and the hand previously on his hip is roaming under his shirt. Otabek is dimly aware that they’re both sweating. The proximity is hot, and the air between them is a sticky kind of humid that plasters Otabek’s shirt to his chest, makes his hair stick to his forehead, makes the slide of JJ’s fingers over his abs slicker.

When the beat drops, the crowd goes wild.

chapter 3: first date

warnings: jj is a Tease, and also mentions his dick but like. very offhand with no details ??

Sometime between all the times he’s met JJ in person, he’s managed to get his number.

At first, it was a joking thing; a parody of everyone who’s ever hit on JJ, with Otabek batting his eyelashes in exaggeration and sidling up close to JJ at the bar. ‘Let me buy you a drink,’ he said, and JJ’s lips curved up in amusement that meant he was playing along.

Somehow, somehow, it didn’t feel so much like a game to Otabek.

He still bought the drink. Again, and again, having learned that JJ would drink anything alcoholic someone pushed at him.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked, and JJ’s smile slipped into something a little more knowing, something that said is this what we’re doing, then?

Then JJ, king of one-upping, leaned close. ‘Why, need something to chant tonight?’

Hot lights, the sudden drop in the music, the crowd around them — so many reasons why Otabek’s cheeks could be flushed. He hopes it’s dark enough that JJ doesn’t see, and knows that JJ’s eyesight is attuned enough to darkness to see anyway.

Otabek refuses to be embarrassed in a game he started himself, so he looks at JJ dead-on. ‘What if I do?’

JJ leans back out of his space and looks at him for a moment, consideringly, before replying. ‘Get me another drink, and I might.’

As if Otabek wasn’t going to get him another drink anyway. He huffs, but does as told, flicking up two fingers and nodding when two glasses are pushed his way.

JJ doesn’t touch his, but he does touch Otabek. The hand is gentle on his shoulder, teasingly so, and JJ’s lips are dangerously close to his ear, close enough that Otabek has to focus hard to make sense of what JJ is saying.

‘Call me Jean,’ he breathes, ‘Jean-Jacques Leroy.’

Otabek can only stare, dumbfounded, as JJ scribbles something on a napkin and pushes it at him before picking up his own glass and vanishing off into the crowd. For a moment, his only thought is so that’s what JJ stands for, and then he’s captivated by the sway of JJ’s hips as he smoothly makes his way across dancing people, and then all he can think of is how utterly fucked he is.

He gets out his phone anyway — Otabek could never resist making his own life more difficult — and copies the digits off the napkin, before sending a text. It’s appropriately simple. ‘want to go somewhere,’ is all he types, no punctuation and no inflection. It’s read immediately.

He can’t see JJ anymore but spares a moment to imagine him fishing out his phone from the pocket of his too-tight jeans. It’s a good mental image. Otabek blinks to refocus on the screen when it starts to swim before his eyes.

> wherw

> **where

> are u going to take me out?;) x

It’s all Otabek can think of to say. JJ’s reply is instantaneous.

> my my so foreward!!

> **forward lol

> i accept;)

Then, slightly left-field:

> i dont put out on the first date tho

For some reason, it makes Otabek smile into the rim of his drink.

He takes another sip as JJ replies.

> ok

> looking forward to it!!

> :)

Otabek hesitates a moment, then, before he powers on.

The reply he gets to that is impossibly faster, texts flickering across his screen in a barrage of grey.

> wow thaats so wierd

> people usually only call me that when were fucking lol

> **weird

> otabek

> just call me jj lmao

> wait

> do u want us to be fucking

> otbaek,

> **otabek

Otabek lowkey chokes on his drink and spends the next few seconds coughing.

The next time he gets a reply is when he’s already home, about to get into bed. It’s timestamped 4:03am.

> goodnight :) x

It’s enough to make him smile into his pillow. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.

 He still doesn’t know what it is that JJ — Jean — does for a living, but apparently it makes him unavailable until the late hours of evening.

  For this reason, their ‘date’ is planned for late hours of evening.

‘how do you want to do this?’ he had texted, and got a much more sober reply from JJ around noon. ‘take me somewhere good’, he’d said, ‘i get off work at 9 today’. In the end, it wasn’t that much difficult to schedule a time and a place for them to meet.

What was difficult, however, was breathing for Otabek when he finally pulled up to the curb near the spot they’ve agreed on and pulled off his helmet to finally look at JJ.

He looked, for lack of a better phrase, fucking amazing.

Not to say JJ didn’t always look amazing; the floppy undercut and sharp jaw and bright eyes looked great in any lighting, but there was something a little extra to the way he looked under the streetlight on the corner as he leaned against the brick wall of the restaurant. Perhaps, it was the white button up — JJ looked ridiculously good in formal — or maybe the jeans hugging his hips, or even the soft smirk on his face.

In comparison Otabek feels almost inadequate in his usual white t-shirt and leather jacket combo. It seems to be enough for JJ, though, because he pauses to look him up and down twice, before greeting him with a soft smile. ‘You look good.’

‘So do you,’ Otabek responds, equally soft, and watches JJ push off the wall to come to a stop in front of Otabek. JJ raises a hand, smoothes it down Otabek’s front to unzip the jacket that he’d kept zipped up for the ride. Otabek catches his wrist.

‘Let’s go?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ JJ breathes in response. They go.

The restaurant Otabek has picked out was the product of many hours of research, reading reviews and menus and social media pages. The food was promised to be amazing, but the atmosphere was highlighted as the main selling point.

Otabek feels very sold on the atmosphere.

They’re taken to a booth with no questions, a secluded kind of thing trimmed with cherry wood and lit very dimly by warm gold candles flickering in the center of the table. The air smells like incense, intoxicating, and quiet music sets a backdrop for a very lazy, relaxed mood.

‘Romantic,’ JJ remarks, looking at the candles.

‘I try,’ Otabek teases before he can overthink it. JJ looks up at him at that.

The moment is broken by the waitress appearing to take their order, and they slide into their respective seats. Otabek is thus spared from having to explain himself any further. Instead, he focuses on his order, on the rich drawl of JJ’s voice as he tells the waitress what kind of wine they want.

Otabek barely remembers what he’s ordered for himself.

He’s a little preoccupied with this: the soft curve of JJ’s jaw in the gold light, the sheer novelty of seeing JJ in anything other than club-neon or gas-station-fluorescent, the peek of collarbone where JJ’s shirt is unbuttoned a button lower than what is decent, the way JJ’s incisor digs into his bottom lip.

Then he realizes that JJ is biting his lip because he’s busy looking at Otabek looking at him, and suddenly he’s preoccupied with breathing normally.

They both cough, and avert their eyes. He hears JJ snicker, and looks up again. JJ’s shoulders are shaking a little, and his eyes are laughing at him even as he hides his mouth in the hand he has propped up on the table, and — if JJ keeps looking like that, like he’s happy-drunk on Otabek’s presence alone, then Otabek might not even need the wine after all.

Their food arrives, in Otabek’s humble opinion, way too fast. He’s forced to focus on his steak instead of on JJ as the waitress fills up their glasses and leaves the bottle on the table. He doesn’t even know if he minds; it looks delicious.

JJ (king of one-upping) doesn’t let him focus on the steak for long.

Otabek almost chokes on it when he feels the brush of a foot against his calf, and then against his thigh, warm and teasing and very inappropriate for a public place. When he looks up, JJ is very innocently regarding the label on the wine. He meets Otabek’s gaze, sly as anything, before he moves his foot a foot to the right — and Otabek makes a sound into his steak that has JJ looking smug.

‘That good, huh,’ he asks, eyes twinkling, tilting his chin in the directoin of Otabek’s plate.

‘Shut up,’ Otabek croaks.

‘Let me have a taste,’ JJ flicks his tongue out, and Otabek can only oblige him as he brings his own fork, a piece of steak speared on it, to JJ’s lips. The moan JJ makes at the taste is obscene. Otabek is glad he’d already swallowed. That way, at least, he has nothing to choke on.

By the time the waitress reappears to take their now-empty plates away, JJ is on his second glass of wine. He’s sipping it slowly, seemingly savouring the taste, and he’s looking at Otabek with a mild kind of gaze that makes Otabek think he might want dessert.

‘Would you like dessert, sir?’ The waitress asks.

JJ looks Otabek in the eye when he licks his lips, pointedly, and replies for both of them. ‘Nah, I’m good.’

‘Thank you,’ Otabek adds to be polite, because nothing about the way that JJ licks the rim of his wine glass is polite. The waitress nods, a blush high on her cheeks.

Otabek’s throat is a little dry at the insinuation.

It’s followed by a scramble when she brings them the bill. JJ procures a credit card out of seemingly nowhere, pouncing the moment the little clipboard hits the table, but Otabek slides it towards him with his wallet out. JJ’s eyes narrow.

‘Otabek,’ he says dangerously.

‘JJ,’ Otabek replies, mildly, as he holds the clipboard just out of JJ’s reach.

‘Otabek,’ JJ says again in a tone that spells death. ‘Give me. The bill.’

‘Nah.’

‘Do you want to die.’ JJ’s smile is very wide and very terrifying. His eyes glint a little.

‘JJ, you’re scaring the nice lady,’ Otabek says just to see how far he can push, and smiles politely at the waitress as he hands her the bill with his card and absolutely does not enjoy the indignant sound JJ makes.

‘I can’t believe you.’ JJ says, incredulous and somewhat betrayed, as they leave the restaurant. ‘I cannot believe you.’

‘Mmm,’ Otabek hums.

JJ makes a strangled, frustrated sound, and he looks so adorable that Otabek can’t help but smile at him.

‘It was a date,’ Otabek tells him by way of explanation. Then, he wonders if he is being presumptious, and his cheer drains away a little. ‘Was it a date?’

JJ pouts for a second more before he replies.

‘It was,’ he concedes. ‘Even if you’re kind of a dick.’

Otabek is all giddy relief at that. They’re at the corner, already, the same one Otabek has parked his motorcycle, and suddenly he’s hit with the fact that this is it.

He’s actually kind of not ready to end it there. He clears his thoat.

‘Do you,’ he says, slowly, ‘maybe want to go somewhere else?’

JJ looks at him, bright and — secretly pleased? — before he ducks under his floppy fringe with a smile. ‘Maaaybe,’ he teases. ‘Where do you want to take me?’

Looking at him, happy and relaxed, cheeks a little pink from the two glasses he’s had, Otabek’s first thought is — everywhere. I’d take you everywhere.

He replies with a more realistic ‘the pier. Let’s go see the pier.’

‘The pier,’ JJ hums, as if trying to see how the words taste. ‘Okay. Take me to the pier, Otabek.’

Otabek glances at his motorcycle.

‘I hope you’re not planning to take me on that thing,’ JJ says. ‘Didn’t think drunk driving was a kink of yours.’

‘You don’t know my kinks,’ Otabek replies, absentmindedly, as he brings up Google Maps on his phone.

When he looks up at JJ, JJ looks half scandalized and half amused. ‘So tell me.’

‘Tell you what?’

‘About your kinks.’

Otabek blushes violently all of a sudden at the way JJ says that. He keeps his eyes firmly on the route that Google Maps suggests.

‘700 meters from here,’ he says instead. ‘You think we can walk that?’

‘You can carry me if my legs give out,’ JJ snarks. ‘Since you’re my knight in shining armor and all.’

Otabek pretends to consider it.

‘No. You’re heavy,’ he says, and turns his back on JJ’s indignant gasp to begin walking.

‘I cannot believe you’d let me die in some unknown street because you think I’m too fat to carry. Otabek. Is this how you treat all your dates?’

Otabek keeps walking and ignores JJ’s whining. JJ catches up soon enough; throws an arm around Otabek’s shoulders and pokes at his cheek where Otabek is trying to hide a smile.

‘You’re not fat,’ Otabek says. ‘Just muscley. Heavy.’

JJ snorts into his neck. ‘Says Mr. Built Like A Truck.’

‘If I was built like a truck,’ Otabek argues, ‘then I could lift you with my muscles.’

JJ jerks them both to a stop.

‘Carry me,’ he declares, dramatically.

‘No.’ Otabek widens his eyes at him.

‘Carry me,’ JJ insists.

‘No,‘ Otabek insists harder.

‘Otabek,’ JJ says, and his eyes are narrowed in the same way he glared at Otabek across the table at the restaurant. His voice is low, deliberate, and somewhat of a turn-on. ‘If you want to have any chance at all at this dick, you will shut up and carry me.‘

‘Are you serious.’

‘Otabek.’

Otabek considers a world in which he has no chance at all at that dick.

Then, he turns around and crouches a little, sighing.

JJ pretends to swoon for a moment before he climbs on. He pats Otabek’s cheek, lips close to his ear. ‘Good boy,’ he says. ‘I knew that would tempt you.’

Otabek thinks about his entire life and the weight of his combined mistakes for every one of the 700 meters he carries JJ to the pier.

When they finally reach there, JJ seems to be possessed by a spirit of someone chivalrous as fuck; he insists on buying two sticks of ice cream, gathers up both of their wrappers, and walks a whole 50 meters to the bin to throw them away.

When he joins Otabek on the walkway to lean against the railing, he looks oddly thoughtful. It smells like the sea, dark, rushing all around them, breaking against the rocks below in a heavy and constant rhythm. The only light comes from the lamps lining the railing, and from the stars twinkling above, as well as the ships dotting the horizon.

Under the orange light of the lamp right above them, JJ’s eyelashes cast shadows long enough to span his cheekbones. Otabek’s eyes are drawn to the way JJ licks melted ice cream off his wrist, catching the droplet before it runs down his arm. JJ doesn’t look at him; he’s too transfixed by the dark expanse before them.

Otabek briefly entertains the thought of staying in that particular moment forever.

JJ ruins that particular illusion very fast by pulling out his phone to check the time.

‘Otabek,’ he says, as he licks the ice cream stick clean. ‘It’s almost midnight.’

‘Mm,’ Otabek hums, trying his best to ignore the way something in his chest sinks a little at that. ‘Want to head back?’ he says instead, turning to look at JJ properly.

JJ yawns at him in reply.

Otabek is so, so fond. JJ blinks at him, and then stretches a hand out to pull Otabek in closer by the collar of his jacket. For a minute, they’re staring at each other, unguarded and anticipatory, the sea rushing under their feet and the stars above them.

JJ leans in first.

His breath is ghosting over Otabek’s cheek, maddening-hot, flickering down to his jaw. His voice, when it comes, is pitched quiet and velvet-soft. ‘I want to do this again,’ JJ murmurs into the shell of Otabek’s ear. ‘Tell me we’re doing this again’.

JJ doesn’t kiss him; he doesn’t have to.

chapter 4: first kiss

That one date seems to break some kind of invisible barrier, some kind of line that separated club JJ and Otabek’s JJ.

When Otabek first sees him during the daytime, it’s not their first date; but it’s his first time seeing JJ in sunlight, playing across his hair, setting his eyes on fire.

Just Otabek’s luck that the fucker would look breathtaking in literally every kind of light.

It was JJ’s proposal they meet in a cafe near where he works. He’d texted with too many emojis, nervous hope in every word, and Otabek accepted without thinking. Clearly, accepting things without thinking when it comes to JJ is a trend, but also very stupid of Otabek, given how he is literally dying.

JJ looks, disgustingly, unfairly, ridiculously beautiful in the soft midday rays filtering through the cafe window. Only a decade of experience in ordering coffee allows Otabek to function; most of his brain cells are diverted to the incredibly important task of figuring out how JJ manages to look more radiant than the sun itself. What the fuck, even.

He thinks JJ has noticed Otabek’s fish-like gaping at some point, actually, because JJ looks like he’s about to start laughing any minute. Mercifully, he does not. Instead, he starts talking about his life, does things to Otabek’s poor gay heart when he realizes that he’s being let into something very private and very personal and very JJ.

There’s something about daylight, apparently, that makes JJ less of an enigma and more of an open, warm person who owns dogs and takes pictures of the view outside his office window and tells Otabek about these things.

Tells Otabek these things like it’s nothing, like he’s talking about the weather, instead of divulging precious information about himself.

Daytime JJ is another dimension, another whole field to explore, and Otabek literally does not know how on earth he can be possibly more in love with someone, but somehow he manages to do just that. It’s like he’s dug a hole down through the entire diameter of the Earth and is now bravely digging into outer space, leaving molten rock and humanity behind to chase the stars.

A very particular star, to be more exact.

A very particular star that has cleared its throat three times already and is smirking at him in amusement as he attempts to recall where the conversation was before he spaced out (hah) thinking about how much he adores stars in general, and JJ above all.

He blinks very rapidly to try and cover up that fact.

JJ is most definitely laughing at him now. He pokes Otabek’s shin under the table with his toes and crinkles his eyes.

‘Thinking about something?’ He asks. ‘Someone?’ he says, and oh, he’s totally making fun of Otabek.

‘Yeah,’ Otabek says. Waits.

‘Oh?’ JJ bites. ‘Tell me about them?’

‘You wouldn’t want to hear it, really, he’s kind of an ass.’

‘My, Otabek, thinking about yourself again? You’re so vain,’ JJ sighs in mock disappointment.

‘mY, oTaBeK, tHiNkInG aBoUt yOuRsElF aGaiN? yOu’Re So VaIn,’ Otabek mocks into his coffee for lack of a better comeback.

JJ chokes a little on his bite of muffin, staring at Otabek in unguarded delight.

‘Otabek,’ he says, ‘did you just meme?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ says Otabek, with infinite dignity.

‘You totally just memed!’ JJ squeals.

Otabek very pointedly bites into his own muffin and ignores him.

‘You. Memed!’ JJ repeats, stabbing his toes into Otabek’s shin for emphasis. ‘I cannot believe my boyfriend is a walking meme. Wow.’

Boyfriend, he says.

‘ksdjgfhjgh,’ Otabek says, as he tries to cough his muffin out of his windpipe.

‘Otabek. Are you dying.’ JJ’s eyes are appropriately wide and his hands are hovering off the table as if he’s about to leap over it and do something helpful, like thump Otabek very hard on the back.

‘No,’ Otabek says eventually, a little hoarse from coughing.

‘Was it something I said? That you’re a meme? —Oh.’ JJ’s eyes are even wider. ‘It’s the boyfriend thing, isn’t it. You’re choking because I called you my boyfriend.’

Otabek’s entire face has colored to match the raspberries in JJ’s muffin.

‘Oh god.’ JJ sounds horrified. ‘You don’t like it. I fucked up. Oh god, I fucked up.’

‘NO,’ Otabek rushes to correct. His voice probably comes out a little too harsh. ‘No,’ he repeats, more quietly. ‘I liked it.’

JJ stares at him, dubious.

‘I really liked it,’ Otabek mumbles, flustered.

‘Boyfriend.’

‘Oh god. Stop.’

‘Boyfriend.’

‘Now you’re just making fun of me.’

‘Otabek Altin, my boyfriend.’

‘I am leaving right now, immediately.’

‘Aww, would you leave your boyfriend all alone in a cafe on your date?’

‘Literally yes,’ Otabek says, and stands.

‘You don’t mean that,’ JJ simpers and flutters his eyelashes at him.

Otabek leans forward to put his face very close to JJ’s. ‘Yes,’ he says, enunciating every word. ‘I do. I would totally leave my boyfriend,’ he pauses there, watching the stunned look on JJ’s face with narrowed eyes, ‘because he is being obnoxious in this cafe, on our date.‘

After that declaration, JJ is silent for a moment. He looks, in one word, shook.

Then he whispers. ‘Holy shit.’

Then, a little louder. ‘I can leave with you, though, right? I’m done with my muffin.’

Otabek blinks. ‘Yeah. I’ll go pay?’

‘Ok,’ JJ says. His cheeks are very pink. ‘Boyfriend’.

‘Obnoxious,’ Otabek mutters under his breath as he makes his way to the counter with his wallet. He’s smiling, though.

The street outside the cafe is very warm, and very sunlit. JJ pauses to pull out his phone to take a picture of the sun beams caught in the leaves of a very green tree, framed against the wispy clouds of the sky. Incidentally, the sky is very fucking blue.

Otabek doesn’t know where to go from here, so once JJ finally gets his perfect shot, they just stand there.

Time stretches on, for a bit, ahead of them. JJ is looking at Otabek like he’s waiting for something. Otabek wonders what the hell he’s waiting for.

Then JJ nods, quick and decisive, and kisses Otabek in the middle of the street.

It’s a firm press of lips, dry and smooth, right on Otabek’s own. He makes some kind of surprised sound, some kind of I can’t believe this is happening right now but I’ve been waiting for it so long and I’ve imagined it countless times and it was never like this but this is also impossibly better than anything I could have imagined, and when his lips part JJ takes it as his cue to press in closer and taste.

JJ tastes like the raspberry muffin he’s ordered at the cafe. He also tastes like Otabek thinks a meteor might taste like, or a star, or the music right before the beat drops. Under all that, he just tastes like a complete dork.

JJ pulls away with a final peck. His eyes are shining.

‘I’ve been waiting to do that,’ he says, and it’s the most cliche line ever but it does things to Otabek’s heart.

‘Was it good?’ he blurts out. He’s still a little dazed from the kiss.

‘You’re asking me,’ JJ laughs. ‘Yes, dumbass. It was good.’

‘Want to do it again?’ Otabek says, when he recovers a little from the idea of JJ thinking that their kiss was good.

‘Well, if you ask nicely,’ JJ says against his lips. ‘Maybe.’

They do it again. And again.

chapter 5: first 'i love u'

warning: jj asks 4 the D. he's also in the hospital, but nth graphic is described ?? no rly jj mentions his dick and otabek mentions broken limbs

Their relationship thrives on a solid foundation of similarities. They’re both, equally, likely to be found somewhere crowded and neon and loud past 10pm on a weekend; they both, unfailingly, sport an undercut and multiple piercings; they both, without a doubt, incredibly gone on each other.

They do say, though, that opposites attract, so the healthy sprinkle of mirror-image differences probably spices up the otherwise very healthy salad that is their relationship. There’s the 10cm JJ has on Otabek; 10cm that Otabek determinedly ignores anytime he drags JJ down for a kiss. There’s also the fact that when you get to know him, JJ is a complete whiny diva, and Otabek literally does not have any room to be a whiny baby because JJ takes up all of it and then some.

There’s also this: unlike JJ, who has wrapped himself in layers upon layers of nicknames like spare labels to shed at will, Otabek never really felt the same itching need to be something else.

Unlike JJ, whom Otabek can call Jean when he’s aiming for particularly vulnerable spots, emotionally, Otabek doesn’t have much to his name besides his name itself. Most of the time, as a result, JJ doesn’t call him anything at all.

Well, there are some things: he calls Otabek bro, ironically, dude, even more ironically, and Otabek, when he’s lit by the harsh buzzing fluorescent hospital lights.

Jean, Otabek says to the hand gripped firmly between his own. Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t you dare do this to me right now.

JJ’s response is a weak laugh that breaks midway into a weak cough, and Otabek’s fingers clench with the conflicting desire to push him into the starch-white hospital sheets to tell him to shut up and save his breath, or to pull him in close and possibly never let go.

I think you care a lot, Otabek, JJ’s smile says for him.

Of course I fucking do, idiot, says the hard and tense line of Otabek’s jaw.

‘I love you,’ says JJ finally. ‘I think I really do.’ He looks as if his own admission was what got him dazed and blinking up at Otabek in some kind of silent wonder, and not blood loss.

‘Shut up. You idiot. You fucking idiot.’ Otabek’s voice comes out sharp, exasperated, like the glaring lights overhead. ‘I love you too. Shut up.’

‘Oh god, I love you so much,’ he follows up in a hoarse whisper that cracks towards the end, eyes closed and JJ’s limp hand pressed to the space between his eyebrows with both of his own.

When Otabek finally collects himself, synching breaths to the slow beep of the heart rate monitors, he presses his lips against JJ’s knuckles and takes in a deep breath.

‘You are never,’ he says, heavy intent in every single word, ‘ever, stepping foot near a motorcycle alone ever again. Jean. I will break both your legs myself.’

‘You don’t mean that,’ JJ says, light.

Otabek sighs against JJ’s palm.

‘No,’ he admits, finally. ‘I can’t tell you what to do. But please, J, don’t ever scare me like that again.’

JJ brushes the knuckles of his hand over Otabek’s cheek, over his miserable expression.

‘Okay,’ he whispers, ‘okay.’

Then JJ’s contrite expression turns devious. ‘But when I finally get out of this cast, I want you to give me the D.’

Otabek stares at him for a very long, very stunned moment.

‘How many drugs are you on?’

JJ shrugs. ‘Enough, probably. But I’ve wanted you since months before that, so I don’t think it really matters.’

‘Jean. You have just broken several limbs, lost enough blood to fund an entire donation drive, and the thing you choose to think about is my dick? I don’t know if I should be flattered or disturbed.’

‘Depends,’ JJ says, matching Otabek’s serious tone. ‘Is your dick flattering or disturbing?’

‘I can’t believe you,’ Otabek mumbles.

‘I can’t believe you love me,’ Jean fires back, and then pauses as if he doesn’t realize it came out that way.

‘Too bad,’ Otabek says, measured. ‘Because I do. Get used to it.’

‘You love me,’ JJ repeats, giddy. ‘You love me.’

‘Yeah, genius, glad to see the crash didn’t affect your listening comprehension skills.’

‘You looooove me. Wow.’ Then, JJ’s expression turns suddenly serious. He’s biting on his lip, even, as he looks at Otabek all careful-like. ‘You’ll tell me that again when I’m not drugged up to my gills, right?’

Otabek slides their fingers together, and nods. ‘I will. And every day, for the rest of our lives.’

For the rest of our lives, JJ mouths.

For the rest of our lives, Otabek nods, a promise.

[ladypjmoon]

BTS FF Reads for July...

Greetings Readers!!!

Sorry this is a few days late—I like to post my reviews during the first week of each month—but it’s summer and I’ve been spending time with friends and family...while enjoying the sun and beautiful weather!  

So, without further delay...here’s my BTS FanFiction recommended reading list for July!!!

Summertime was made for reading and these are some fantastically amazing stories I’ve had the pleasure to read—and, of course, cheerzzz to all these talented writers...and Thank You for sharing your beautiful works of art with the fandom!

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01)   Title: Pull Me Closer

Ship:  Yoonmin

Author:  by Willow_Odessa2333

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/11002941

Summary: College!AU where Jimin can’t sleep without listening to a *certain someone’s* channel, and then hears someone in the library that sounds JUST like him, but brushes it off until..... Or in which Jimin meets Yoongi, the voice behind the anonymous live stream host he kind of fell in love with.

My Review: I’m starting you out with a sugary delight that’s so sweet it’ll give you cavities—so remember to brush after reading, lol!  But seriously, this is Yoonmin at their most romantic—full of fluff and feels galore—and it’s sure to bring a smile to your face...so, enjoy!  

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02)   Title: Butterfingers

Ship:  Yoonmin

Author:  by ohdizzy

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/7848391

Summary:  Jimin's life is no fairytale.  But if it was, it'd go something like this.  (Or: the AU in which Jimin is cursed to drop whatever he’s holding every time he sees the person he loves)

My Review: Here’s another Yoonmin gem where Jimin’s lost his creative edge and has a painting project due.  Taehyung decides he needs a muse—enter barista Min Yoongi, covered in tattoos.  The plot is pure love, the twist is Jimin’s cursed by the gods to drop things around the person he loves because he hates love and the friends to lovers ending is predictably cliché but beautifully done!    

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03)   Title: Come First

Ship:  Yoonjin

Author:  by jinified

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/10155545

Summary:  “You could go in there, you know.” Hoseok suggests offhandedly.  “No,” Seokjin says immediately with a dismissive shake of his head, “he told me to never interrupt him when he’s in there.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious! We have an established boundary zone because—”

“Please don’t.”

“—we’re roommates.”

or: Yoongi has been in the studio too long and Seokjin tries to persuade him to leave. It doesn't go quite according to plan.

My Review: This shorty is pure Yoonjin smut and fun while the simplistic plot only adds to the air of humor and believability—I can actually see this happening...oh yes!          

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04)   Title: Dahlia

Ship:  Yoonseok | Sope

Author:  by signifying_nothing

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/8726908

Summary:  witchchild jeongguk accidentally summons a pair of demons

My Review: I find the summary on this fic a little misleading because it’s actually quite a soulful piece of work.  There’s a lot of meat to this one so don’t be surprised by the plot depth and fully developed characters.  Make sure you’re heart, mind and soul are open when you read this one because there’s a fuckton of good questions that are sparked by this basic angel-demon theme.  I loved this story a lot and those of you who like to read unusual story lines will too!!!

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05)   Title:  Daily Smoothies

Ship:  Taekook | Vkook

Author:  by Missmozzie

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/8291000

Summary:  Taehyung likes smoothies, and so does Jeongguk.

My Review: I love awkward Taekook and this is a really cute college au with an added Yoonmin flare...enjoy!

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06)   Title: Eternal

Ship:  Jikook

Author:  by staycute1234

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/6228838

Summary:  Jungkook has been chasing Jimin for centuries.

My Review: This story spans a few hundred centuries following the vampire, Jungkook, as he waits for his soulmate, Jimin, to be continually reborn so they can be together for another human lifetime. There is blood and smut in this story but it’s sensual and not gore—however, if you’re the squeamish sort you might want to refrain from reading this one.  For all you vamp-lovers, this is a fabulous story and a great read!  

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07)   Title: Finally

Ship:  Vmin

Author:  by rosiex

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/10577745

Summary:  In which Jimin and Taehyung finally share their first kiss.

My Review: I adore this story—it’s quick but thorough!  We follow Jimin’s thought process surrounding his first kiss with Taehyung...which is also his first time kissing a boy.  Jimin’s mental dialog is genuine and detailed as he leads the reader through the physical and mental aspects that change his relationship status of his best friend from friend to lover.  This is a great little story with a big emotional footprint!          

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08)   Title: Homefront

Ship:  Namji | Minjoon

Author:  by ACatWhoWrites

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/7998787

Summary:  There were times Jimin felt a lot and didn't feel at all. Times before he was a dad that he'd rather never forget and times he'd rather never think of again. Times when he was alone and choking on ash and slipping in mud made of blood and exposed dirt. Times before dancing with his daughter to animated guitar music and planning dates to pick flowers in the park.

My Review: I don’t normally read fictions that portray BTS members are parents (not my thing) but this one grabbed my heart. This is a multi-layered piece that surrounds a soldier (Jimin) who’s past and military obligations overlap with his life as a single father.  I love the underlying theme of finding love when and where you least expect it...because it reminds the reader there’s always hope!

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09)   Title: Insanity (in G minor)

Ship: Yoonmin

Author:  by neatospiffy

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/9575978

Summary:  Yoongi is a pianist who runs a music shop in a small town. Jimin is his unlikely studentroommate?  the music!au that nobody asked for tbqh heavily inspired by Yoongi's First Love, the piano version of Butterfly, and several Yoonmin fics I've read in the past.

My Review: I have a hard time reading plots about or with child abuse—however, since it was implied, not graphically depicted, I got through it fine.  Most of the fiction revolves around how Jimin comes to live with his piano instructor and how their bond forms over a love of music...eventually, they fall into a romantic relationship.  This is a very touching Yoonmin story that deserves your attention and will reward you with a happy heart in the end!

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10)   Title: Meet The Parents

Ship:  Yoonjin

Author:  by rosiex

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/7851541

Summary:  Yoongi predicts that meeting Seokjin's parents will be a disaster.  He was right.

My Review: An honest and cringe-worthy account of meeting your partner’s parents and knowing they instantly hate you.  I found this story both funny and sad as I suffered through second-hand embarrassment and dreaded the ride home and ensuing fight that had the potential to rip them apart, but doesn’t—with an ending that’s pure Yoongi...at least in my mind.

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11)   Title: Never Judge a Book by its Cover

Ship:  Jikook

Author:  by whenIseeUsmile

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/9841067

Summary:  Thanks to Jungkook's idiot best friend, he drowned the books he borrowed from the library. Now, he has to work there to work off his debt. He doesn't really like the job but that one boy that always has his nose buried in his books makes his days much better.  Or in which Jungkook meets bookworm Jimin and falls harder than he thought he would.

My Review: This story is fabulous!  It has a generous amount of fluff and feels along with a well-structured plot that flows easily, making it a great read—and it doesn’t hurt to that there’s a healthy dose of side Taegi either...can I get an Hell Yeah!

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12)   Title: Passengers

Ship:  Yoonmin

Author:  by unclassified_senpai

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/9180250

Summary:  The spacecraft Starship Avalon is traveling to a distant colony planet, Homestead II, a journey that will take 120 years to complete. The colonists and the entire crew are in Hibernation Pods, but a malfunction awakens one passenger, mechanical engineer Min Yoongi, 90 years too soon.  A YoonMin PassengersAU.

My Review: You all know I’m Yoonmin trash (she said proudly) and this is Yoonmin in epic proportion!  This is a must read!!!  And, if you’re a stalker (like me) you can go read the comments I made throughout the story however, here’s a section of my last comment...

“Seriously, you did a spectacular job on this story and the research you put into it (behind-the-scenes) shows immensely! I love Yoonmin but in this setting...I don't know, there was just something so beautifully quiet and peaceful about the Yoonmin ship that I haven't found in any of my other reading travels. The characters were so truthful and exactly how I see them in my own mind, including all their pain and insecurities--somehow you managed to keep this same quiet echo through the entire series...which is a feat in and of itself. And Namjoon killed me--every chapter watching his body fade and fail was done with honest and painful simplicity...I cried more for Joonie than I did when Yoonmin separated after their misunderstanding.”

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13)   Title: The 8 by 8 Rule

Ship:  Taekook | Vkook

Author:  by Rix

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/7344526

Summary:   Jungkook drinks a lot of water. Taehyung's into it.

My Review: This is another story that won’t be to everyone’s liking so READ the TAGS!  I laughed and blushed my way through this one because Rix’s sex scenes are off the MF hook!  I enjoyed reading this one—but again, I love me some bottom Jungkookie so yeah...don’t read this one in church, lmfao!

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14)   Title: sidereal

Ship:  Vmin

Author:  by darling

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/8029858

Summary:  Here we observe the Earth and the Sun in their natural habitat: each other.

My Review: This story is another with the theme of domestic abuse—it’s heart-wrenching and bittersweet—with a happy ending but I caution you all to READ the TAGS for triggers!  Darling is one of my favorite authors because of the unique perspective, style and voice...so I highly encourage you to read this or any other piece by this fantastic writer!    

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15)   Title: you have 1 new message

Ship:  Namjin

Author:  by bazooka

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/7481172

Summary:  

r u n c h r a n d a.

fuck, this is going to sound like the weirdest shit. okay look i used ur selcas to catfish and this older dude is gonna buy me stuff but i have to send him a selca with a peace sign

~ * ~ pingkeu jin ~ * ~

hahahahahahaha wtf

My Review: This is a long one however, don’t be afraid—it’s written in a texting format so it’s a very fast-paced read.  It’s Namjin centric with the other members contributing here and there but the plot spirals into a suspenseful thriller and has a great ending...that’s sure to put a dimple in your smile! ;)    

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16)   Title: Figuring It Out as We Go

Ship:  Jikook

Author:  by peppermint_wind

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/6078801

Summary:  Jungkook never thought this would happen to him; eighteen years old and questioning everything he used to know. Staying up late watching gay music videos with wide-eyes, phone tucked to his chest, probably isn't helping him much, either, but what is he supposed to do when he realizes seeing two men together makes his whole body ache?

**Based off of Jungkook covering Troye Sivan's, "Fools."

"Jimin’s breathing begins to even, and Jungkook watches his chest rise and fall, steady and slow, like how waves wash up on Busan beaches."

My Review: A very sweet coming about Jungkook discovering and accepting that he’s gay and has feelings for Jimin.  The feels in this story are deep and intense—it’ll make your heart beat faster, ngl!      

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17)   Title: breathing underwater

Ship:  Taekook | Vkook

Author:  by parallels

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/3604374

Summary:  Taehyung meets Jungkook on an impromptu summer road trip to Busan.

My Review: This is an odd little gem that I really love—it’s very poetic and beautiful.  I will mention that Taehyung almost drowns and Jungkook saves him so if this is a trigger for you please be careful as drowning is described with great feeling.    

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18)   Title: describe your ideal type here

Ship:  Sugakookie

Author:  by fruitily

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/11229873

Summary:  he means well. this is what jungkook tells himself when taehyung shoves a sheet of paper in his face at eight in the morning when he’s mechanically shoveling cereal into his mouth at the kitchen table in sort of a dissociative state. TAEHYUNG’S MATCHMAKING SERVICES, it reads at the top in taehyung’s glaring handwriting. jungkook doesn’t even want to read the rest of it.  or: taehyung makes a business out of matchmaking. yoongi smiles at jungkook at a coffee shop and it's really a downwards spiral from there on. both jungkook and yoongi probably need new roommates.

My Review: This story is wonderful!  Sugakookie done well is always a good time but honestly, I absolutely loved Vmin in this one.  The fact that you never know for sure if Vmin is a couple through the entire story is delightful and fun! Definitely read this one!!!    

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19)   Title: Good Job (with a G and a J)

Ship:  Namseok

Author:  by taetaetiger (sexyvanillatiger)

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/8045644

Summary:  “Good, Hoseok," Namjoon says. "That’s exactly right. Very good.” Oh. Oh, Hoseok thinks. Oh, he feels crawling down his spine. Oh, he sits higher in his seat. Oh, he tightens his legs together and feels a rush through his stomach, through the insides of his thighs, through his groin. Oh.

My Review: A college au story with brilliant Namjoon tutoring Hoseok at Seokjin’s request.  This story is cute, funny and all-around a good read so add it to your summer reading list!    

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20)   Title: when the lights go out (run away with me)

Ship:  Sugamon

Author:  by JemKay

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/5690152

Summary:  Yoongi’s soft when he’s tipsy, softer when he’s cold, and softest when Namjoon says “I

love you.”

My Review: God this story is “Chick-flick-central” and so worth your time an effort—Namjoon is precious and Yoongi is his spitfire-self that melts in Joonie’s hands—this is a beautiful love story...so check it out!  

__________

Alright, that wraps up my listing for July—it’s a long one because it’s summer and most of you have extra free time on your hands...I know I do!!!  So, hope these keep a smile on your face during daylight hours by the pool, lake or beach!

As always, let me know if you’ve fallen in love with a certain story and send me the link so I can check it out!!!

Happy Reading and see you all next month!  

^___^  PJ

[kane-and-griffin]

I'm really sad about something I don't understand and was hoping you could explain. Why do people block without giving a reason to? I don't why it first seems like it's all going so well then the next you're blocked and you don't know why or what you did or said wrong? It's happened twice now and to say it hurts is an understatement.

Oh, my precious Kabby babies.  Circle up, it’s time for some firm butgentle life advice from Mom. 

First of all, unless I personally am the person who blocked you (whichI’m obviously not since we’re having this conversation!), in a very real sensethe short answer to this question is that you know I can’t actually answer thisquestion.  You’re asking me to tell youwhy a person I don’t know did a thing for which I have no context, and forwhich there could be a thousand reasons. So in a concrete, specific sense, my answer is: I do not know.

However.

(You knew there was going to be a however.)

Social media is a deeply personal avenue for self-expression and it’s also aworld where many of us spend a great deal of our time, which means that we havethe full and free right to customize it into exactly what we want it tobe.  The things that you post are personal reflections of you, which is  why it bums you out when someone mutes or blocks or doesn’t followback; it feels on some level like a personalrejection.  But the space you curate is also a personal reflection of you.  You have the rightto post anything you want and other people have the right to choose not to seeit.  Both of those rights are equal, eventhough you’re only on one side so naturally the other one feels like it’s insome way “wrong.”  

I’m speaking with zero context for what your preexisting relationship withthese people was beforehand (like obviously if it was a close friend and theyblocked you out of nowhere, you’re going to have to sort that out with themdirectly, I can’t advise you there), but it’s important to remember that theremay be no “right” and wrong” in this scenario.  It’s fully possible forboth of these things to peacefully coexist at the same time:

1) your absolute right to feel a little bit rejected and hurt that astranger on the internet made the choice that they didn’t want your socialmedia sphere to overlap with their social media sphere,

and

2) that other person’s absolute right to say “if something or someone makesme feel even the tiniest bit ‘nope’ I am purging it out of this space so it isexactly what I want and need it to be.” 

They don’t need to have a reason.  That sucks, when you’re on the receiving end of it, which all of us have been - it truly and genuinely sucks - but it’s also reality.  One of the hard truths that incidents like this make us sometimes have toface - and we don’t want to face these things, because they can feel reallyicky and vulnerable and ping all the little gremlins in our brain  - is this:

nobody on the internet owes you their time or attention foranything you do or say.

This sounds mean and brutal, and I don’t mean it to be, because you know mom loves you, but it’s incrediblyimportant, so I’m going to say it again to make sure that if nothing else, thisgets through:

nobody on the internet owes you their time or attention foranything you do or say.

The celebs you stan don’t owe you a response to your tweet, justbecause you want one.  The people you tag in meta don’t owe you rebloggingit to continue having that conversation with you forever, just because you wantto prove you’re right.  The fans of the fic you write for your mostpopular ship don’t owe you crossing over to give you hits on yourrare-pair fic if they don’t feel like it.  Nobody owes you a certainnumber of followers, nobody owes you a response to every anon you send them,nobody owes you finishing that fic you like in time for them to read it whenthey feel like reading it.  We owe each other one thing and one thingonly: basic human decency.  That’s it.  Everything else is freelyoffered to the world, and freely taken by the people who want it.  It’snot a transactional exchange.  If you make art or write fic and you put itout there into the world, you’ve done a cool thing, and whether it gets tenhits or thousands it was still worth doing.  There will be people whoaren’t interested, but if you get hung up on feeling rejected by that, it willparalyze you.

Social media is personal. That’s unavoidable.  It’s an extension of ourselves.  When someone is cruel to you or to one ofyour friends on the internet, even if it’s an anonymous stranger, it feelsshitty.  When you express an opinionabout something and a ton of people reblog it and the tags are full of “OMG YESTHISSSSS”, it feels great.  We all experiencethat in different ways.  Society has always selected arbitrary measures for young girls and women tolive up to in order to feel like they’re popular or they’re approved by thecool kids, and right now it’s things like “how many followers do you have” and “didyou get an RT from a celebrity” and “how many likes on your posts”.  So ona primal level, maybe having someone you thought was a friend block you on Twitter or Tumblr hits you in the same deep coreplace as having the cool kids not come to your birthday party.  That feeling is super real!  It brings upalllllll that deep stuff we try to hide and pretend that we’re aboveexperiencing, but we all have those squishy vulnerable inner selves that justneed the cool kids to like us and we feel bad when they don’t.  

I had this exact conversation with my therapist a few weeks ago when she wasgiving me a hard time because my book has 60 reviews on Amazon, of which likethe majority are 5 stars with two negative ones, and I have both the negativeones like memorized.  And she was like “CLAIRE.  WHAT THE HELL.  WHY DO YOU DO THIS?  58 POSITIVE AND YOU CANNOT QUOTE A SINGLEONE.  TWO SHITTY ONES AND YOU KNOW THEMVERBATIM.  THAT IS NOT HEALTHY BEHAVIOR.”  And I was like “… . okay fine when youput it that way, yes I do sound like a crazy person.”  So like my advice to you – advice which I havejust proven I am absolute garbage at taking myself, so like I may have justeroded my own credibility in my efforts to help – is to remember that you probablyhave a lot more than two followers so honestly this is probably not a badcollective ratio, and there may be lots of people who are very interested inwhat you have to say but you’ve focused a lot of your energy on these two people andit’s worth giving some thought as to why that is.

My question for you is this: what is the net negative impact of having thesetwo people block you on social media? Like in an actual, concrete way, separate from those sort of core gut “Ifeel unloved in this moment” feelings, what is the effect on your life?  You might be surprised.  It might be zero.  In which case, let yourself feel thosefeelings, experience them as valid, and then breathe through them and move onand keep on doin’ you. 

I’m pushing backon you a little bit here very gently because it feels, reading this anon, likeyou’ve made a determination of hurtful intent on the part of the person whoblocked you, or at the very least a certainty that this choice that made wasabout you and not about them.  That the fact that things seemed to be going fine and then they blocked you means you were somehow intentionally misled or mistreated.  Be really, really, really carefulabout deciding the cool girl didn’t come to your birthday party because she’s abitch who wanted to make you feel terrible and is sitting somewhere cackling atthe thought of your sad lil’ face waiting by the front door; maybe she didn’tcome to your birthday party because she has depression and it’s hard for her toleave the house sometimes and she knew your party would be loud and wild and crazyand too much for her brain to handle right now. Be careful about presuming negative intent with no proof it exists.  The internet makes this so easy, the internetconditions us for this, and itconditions us to respond in kind. The worst thing you could do here is to, like,make a callout post or subtweet in the hopes that it will get back to them andthey’ll feel bad, or to sic your other followers onto them, because that turnsthis into a situation that really doeshave a right and wrong; and since you don’t know if they were trying to makeyou feel shitty, or just went on a big block/mute purge to whittle their listdown for mental health reasons that are totally their own, once things escalateyou can’t put the horse back in the barn. It’s too late.  Now it’s A Thing,when maybe it never really needed to be A Thing.  And in almost all situations for almost allpeople in almost all ways, Kabby Mom’s advice is going to be, “please thinkcarefully before you make this A Thing.”

This got long, I’ve been having a lot of thoughts lately about theconversations I’m always having with fandom folks the way we let social mediapermeate and shape our sense of self, in good ways and bad, so I apologize formy verbosity but also not really because that’s how things roll over in KabbyMom’s Advice Corner.  But I will sum upin bullet points for those of you who have been skimming, to bring you up tospeed:

Everyone has the right to curate their own social media spacehowever they see fit, and they don’t have to explain their reasons.

They aren’t obligated to include you in that space even if you want themto.

None of that is an objective measure of your worth as a person or a signthat you should stop being you on the internet.

Your feelings of rejection come from a real place and you get to feelthem, as long as

You are striving to move through them without permitting them to paralyzeyou, and finally

You never use someone else’s choice to curate their social media sphere as ajustification for treating them like crap.

Focus on your positive interactions instead of negative ones – your friends,creating stuff and putting it out into the universe – whether it be art, fic,opinions, a podcast, gifsets, crackposts, whatever – and your social mediaworld will be a better place.

In the immortal words of the great Michael J. Fox, “What other people thinkof me is none of my business.”

[davewakeman]

The Chargers Are Moving To LA, But....

We are about 2 weeks into the new area of the Los Angeles Chargers, which brings the number of teams in LA to 2. From the zero about a year ago.

At the same time, the Raiders potential move to Las Vegas is working its way through an approval process as well.

If you are counting, that makes 3 teams potentially moving in about a year.

WHOA!

I don’t think you have to be a sports marketing expert to know that this isn’t a good look for the league and when you add it on top of all of the other challenges the NFL has faced the last few years, a harbinger of potential challenges ahead.

We keep hearing about Commissioner Roger Goodell’s vision for the NFL to reach $25B by 2025, which at the time he set that goal would have meant the league needed to add $1B of revenue every year.

Since he has made this goal public, the NFL has found itself getting larger TV revenues and a lot of bad news: concussions, declining ratings, empty seats, Deflategate, and more.

Which brings us back to the idea that 3 teams could move in 1 year!

Wow!

From a straight revenue standpoint, this is probably a great deal in the short term.

Let’s count the ways, team values will go up for the Rams and Chargers just from benefit of being in LA market as opposed to San Diego or St Louis.

Team revenues may rise due to the initial rush of fans coming out for the novelty of a game in LA or Las Vegas for that matter.

Or, you might have fans that make a rush to buy their new home teams merchandise at the outset, maybe. That’s going to drive some improved revenues immediately.

And, I can go down the list.

New stadiums mean we can justify higher food and beverage costs in the short term. We can drive a tough bargain for higher ticket prices. We can likely wedge people into bad suite lease deals.

But what is the long term play?

As we saw in San Francisco with the Levi Stadium, people will just walk away from the PSLs.

As we have seen in NY/NJ with the new Giants Stadium, hiking the prices in a way that makes a new stadium viable also has the unintended effect of driving out some of your most rabid fans, causing the in-game stadium experience to be beautiful and antiseptic. Which drives down long term demand, unless you are on a Super Bowl run…

Which we have seen in a number of sports doesn’t guarantee success either, during or after the fact.

You also have the challenge of who is your market?

If you are the Rams, you likely have a chance.

Why?

Because you were there before. You are LA’s original football team, though the people that remember that are older now and maybe don’t care. So with your long term demographic, you are starting over from scratch.

If you are the Chargers, there isn’t any logical reason to move.

Sure, you had an old and worn down stadium in San Diego. But you had a fan base that was yours and pretty much yours alone.

In LA, you don’t have any inbound fan base. You are going to be playing second fiddle to the Rams.

Not just second fiddle, but second fiddle and you are the roommate of the landlord.

The ruse to move the Raiders is a little more understandable.

Somehow Mark Davis has the opportunity to milk the city of Las Vegas and a billionaire partner out of a new stadium.

Great deal if you can get it.

But the question becomes, who is your audience in Las Vegas?

Again, you are going to have some lookie loos…the same with the NHL team.

But long term, where is your fan base coming from?

Are they coming in from out of town to see their team play the Raiders?

That’s a tough sell because many potential fans are going to more drawn to the glitz and glamour of the strip.

And, if you’ve ever been to Vegas, you know that once you get sucked into the casinos and hotels…they are tough to leave.

So right away your competition is the Strip. Which conventional wisdom would tell you would be some of your best customers.

But my primary question to you is: “If you’ve invested billions of dollars in creating these mega entertainment centers, why exactly are you going to take them to someone else’s to entertain?”

Sure, for the Raiders…great deal.

For the NFL, another good deal because they now have a footprint in another market without really losing anything because the 49ers are still in the Bay Area.

For the NFL, moving to LA from St Louis is a decent swap on the ratings landscape…second largest market, no brainer.

Even moving up from San Diego isn’t too bad on that front because I am sure that the SD TV market has a lot of overlap with the LA market.

But when you get past these obvious things, that’s where the iceberg gets big and substantial because we’ve talked about a lot of stuff that is great for the teams making the moves and the league itself, but what about the group of people we have left out so far?

THE FANS!

My big concern about all of this moving around of teams, of all this push to rapidly and constantly extract another billion dollars per year out of viewers and fans, is that no one is looking out for the fans.

If we get back up to the issues that the NFL has been dealing with, specifically the ones like declining ratings and empty seats, this is an issue where your fans are sending you a clear message that something isn’t right.

Is it “peak football” as I have heard the term called?

I’m not sold on that because I have seen the NFL’s popularity be down before, where the NFL wasn’t the big dog before.

But I do think that if you don’t pay attention to your fans and to increasing their engagement and connection to the teams and the games in a meaningful way, besides just producing more content…you can have an issue and it can be one that sneaks up on you pretty quickly.

So what do you do, if you are the NFL?

First, I think you might want to put some pressure on the Chargers to reconsider moving to LA. I’ve pretty much seen unanimous consent that the market is apathetic to the team.

What’s the opposite of love?

Apathy…and that is a tough one to overcome.

Sure, winning can help.

But look how long it took the Clippers to ever become relevant in the LA market.

Second, Oakland is a historic market and one that the NFL has already toyed with before.

I’d agree with anyone that said, a replacement stadium in Oakland is probably necessary. There have been multiple occasions when sewage has run into the dugouts or concourses. Its a concern for public safety.

What I don’t think is a good idea is moving the team to Las Vegas.

I mean, Vegas is going from no teams to two teams in a year as well.

We have no idea if the market can bear one team.

If I am the NFL, I don’t want my team to be guinea pig, especially when we know how powerful the site of empty seats is when driving fan and TV viewer perception of the health of the game.

Finally, I’d look at some ways that drive revenue while improving the fan experience.

To this point, every way of improving revenue has been add more game days, build new stadiums that allow us to charge higher prices, raise prices on all licensed merchandise.

That’s going to cause fans to feel gouged.

And, it doesn’t do anything for adding new fans or improving the fan experience so you can drive them to more games.

To keep it simple, I would start with 3 ideas to improve the live experience.

First, I would revisit the fan or customer lifecycle to better help drive fans to the content, merchandise, and interactions I want.

Right now, too many viewers ingest the game passively, through watching it on TV, while more concerned with the health of their fantasy football teams.

We need to create a virtuous cycle that drives fans back into our stadiums and make the in-game experience the center piece of NFL viewing.

This is going to likely mean more and more stadiums will take on a lot of the attributes of the redesigned and rebuilt Hard Rock Stadium in Miami. With experiences for fans at all levels of the stadium. With more local food and beverage options. And, better options for ingress and egress.

Second, I think as an industry live entertainment has gotten infatuated with the idea that if we can get away with charging outrageous prices for crappy F&B and some people will buy it, let’s do it.

I think as much as anything, this has driven a wedge between fans going to live experiences and fans choosing to do something else.

What the Falcons are doing in Atlanta at Mercedes Benz Stadium is a start.

I think if you combine fan friendlier pricing with better options, you can win over a lot of people that are looking to share a night at a game or a concert that might not other wise choose you because they don’t want to mortgage their house to have a date night.

Trust me on this one, after having opened nightclubs, bars, and restaurants all over the country, I know two things. One, if you can get them into the building that’s win number one. Second, if you are smart about pricing, merchandising, and experience, you can drive tons more revenue and they will happily come back.

Finally, you need to focus on building communities around the teams.

Sure, the ultimate brand is football or the NFL.

You know what, I think that does a disservice to the teams at the local level. And, one of the big issues that could throw a wrench into the long term growth of the NFL.

Why?

Because you don’t build a fan base from the top down, you build it from the ground up.

Look at any really successful political campaign, they are built from the ground up…people talking to people, people sharing, people, people people.

The NFL needs to get back to that.

Put the teams at the center of a community in each of the markets and even have teams be the center of fandom in markets without a team.

Because without community, you won’t have a business that is sustainable…and that’s why 3 teams moving in 1 year is a bad sign for the NFL.

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