#we were lonely long before the pandemic

[feralboo-the-weirdo]

I want a big friend group. A friend group where everyone feels safe to be themselves, to be happy and to be sad and to be a chaotic mix in the middle. I want a friend group where being nerodivergent is not only okay but normal. Where we help each other with our impossible tasks where it's okay to not be on top performance, to be struggling to have accommodations. I want a friend group where we can stay up all night and be laughing as we make breakfast the next morning. I want a friend group that feels like what a family is supposed to be. Where everyone is celebrated as they are. Where we're constantly encouraging each other to improve and be better but it's not malignant. Where softness is a strength, where everyone is so comfortable around each other our walls start to fall. where support is a given. Where it's not enmeshed, we still have boundaries, but it's safe. Where we're close not because we have to be but because we want to be. Where we go on chaotic adventures and things are still safe. A group of friends where you forget how lonely you've been. where you run through fields and travel the world and the world is bright and safe.

I just want a group of friends, or even just one. Not a soulmate, but something close. I'm tired of being so lonely. I just want someone to love and care about and someone to love and care for me, someone who feels safe. I'm just so tired of being alone. Of having to shield myself from my family.

I don't want to be lonely anymore.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Written in 2020 (2) Masterlist

part one

a different side of me (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan's early 2010 struggle with his home life, his future, and how Phil fits into everything.

A whale of a time - (ao3) - lazyphannie

Summary: Dan's horny and Phil's still sleeping.

Advent Calendar 2020 (ao3) - Phantje

Summary: Dan is a single father to his son Mes. When Mes does not go to Dan's best friend Meggie's nursery, he tags along to Dan's photography studio. With Mes, the studio, and his film-review-blog, Dan is certainly busy, and yet finds time to be a little lonely - he is skilled like that. Dan's life seems to suddenly start spinning when he rescues a client from a malicious photo booth.

Phil is the co-founder of the IRL store, but wants to start working to meet new people and to fill his days. That has nothing to do whatsoever with him pining after the mysterious blogger, and he isn't even really all that lonely, actually.

Phil starts working at a nursery, makes a new friend, and gets more than he bargained for in falling in love with the photographer.

All Signs Point to Us (ao3) - RyRyCaptain

Summary: When the queen and king gives birth to Daniel, they soon learn that their son is deaf. In order to let Dan express his opinions to those who haven't learned sign language, they find him a translator who happens to be the son of the King’s advisor, Phil. Soon enough, Phil starts to realize thAt he fallen in love with the younger boy.

All We Seem to Do Is Talk About Sex (ao3) - truerequitedlove

Summary: In which Dan’s got a boyfriend and a tongue piercing, and Phil’s got a weed hookup and an anxiety disorder. In high school, they were labeled “bad influences on each other,” maybe that would never go away.

Arrangements (ao3) - intoapuddle

Summary: One night stands have worn out their welcome, but Dan isn't ready for a relationship. Thankfully, other arrangements can be made.

attachment (ao3) - dnovep

Summary: Harlow’s monkey experiments, love, & Phil wrapping Dan in blankets.

baby can't you see? (i'm calling) (ao3) - danfanciesphil (thejigsawtimess)

Summary: Two years after Dan's ill-advised stint up a mountain, and Phil's escape from a Royal psychopath, their dramatic flying off into the horizon hasn't had such a steady landing. Phil is consumed by his new venture in giving back to the world, but Dan is receiving none of this graciousness. Their living situation remains unstable, and they're barely in the same room long enough to hold hands.

It's all about to break apart, when the pandemic hits them where it hurts. Once again, Dan and Phil find themselves thrown into isolation with one another, back up where it all began. The memories of The Secret of the Alps are both fond and traumatic; being there again, trapped and in a bitter feud, is worryingly familiar. Can they make it out together a second time around? Or is this cycle doomed to repeat itself forever, until one of them calls it quits?

(TW) Break Me (ao3) - MySecretsX

Summary: In this world, you're marked with black. That's if you have a soulmate at least. Everyone is destined to cross paths with the one who is meant for them, at least once in their lives.

When you and your soulmate meet, you will touch, if only briefly, and the exact area of skin you touch with the other turns from black to white, with streaks of blue, purple, yellow, all marbled in with each other.

Daniel Howell is well-known in town. People cross the street if they're approaching him and newcomers to the neighbourhood are warned about his presence. Exactly like the Lester's were. But Phil Lester has other ideas, he saw the pain within the boy, how bad can he really be?

chaos in bloom (ao3) - vvelna

Summary: The adventures of Dan and Phyl, ghost removal experts.

closer than before (ao3) - graydar

Summary: Maybe he’ll just take this one chance. It might be fun, might be something to do, might be more than that. He’s fine with not knowing. All anyone is doing right now is not knowing. It’s the new trend.

Cold, Empty Mattresses and Falling Stars (ao3) - conshellation

Summary: 2009 au where phil and his family own a campground/cabins in an area that is known for stargazing and phil has lived his entire life there, therefore knowing a lot about stars. dan and his family come from the city to said campground because dan is a nerd and asked to come there for his birthday.

Covet (ao3) - americanphancakes

Summary: The only thing making Dan feel alive is his all-consuming crush on the new deacon.

Crossing the line (ao3) - dakogutin

Summary: After billionaire Phil Lester meets an unfortunate incident that ends him up in hospital with no memories, Dan Howell— a mistreated employee convinces Phil that he is Dan's working-class husband to get back at him with the many hardships he faced as an employee. What could go wrong?

Dead! (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Phil is a zombie living in the abandoned Luton airport, Dan is a human survivor. Bound together by the fear of what hides in the dark, they choose not to kill each other, and begin the long journey to Manchester and (hopefully) to new colonies

doppelt. (ao3) - schnaf

Summary: The big wheel in Manchester. The big wheel in another Manchester. Phil's disappearance. Finding Phil - twice. Dealing with Doppelgängers. That's not exactly what Dan expected from their first meeting. But in the end, being with Phil is all that matters.

for the first time in such a long time (I know I'll be okay) (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Three conversations in Phil’s bedroom in 2009.

grind to the rhythm (as we wine and dine) (ao3) - kishere

Summary: God, everyone was going to think him a harlot, Phil thought as they walked out of the maze in silence. Being left alone with an alpha he wasn’t mated to was cause for gossip.

Hot As Hell (ao3) - Spring_Haze

Summary: Dan and Phil take advantage of a few minutes of unexpected privacy while in a dry sauna. Phil can't resist his boyfriend on account of his well-established sweat kink.

I Will Be Loving You (ao3) - phantasticworks (steddieworks)

Summary: Dan and Phil spend their first Valentine's Day out of the closet.

it's a church of burnt romances (ao3) - phanetixs

Summary: Dan backs into the car and the driver asks where he’s heading. His head swims with thoughts of Phil, and of guilt and embarrassment at how he’s subconsciously treating his friend. Whose life centres around virtues like chastity. And non-objectification goes both ways. Dan takes a few deep breaths, pressing a palm to his insistent bulge to quell his arousal. As always, it doesn’t work.

Well, he resolves, if he can’t get Phil out of his head, he’s got to get someone else into it. Or onto him, preferably.

Or, a Fleabag AU.

Lonely in Conflict, Cast as a Convict (ao3) - andthenshesaid-write (ladyknight1512)

Summary: Dan is a vampire who can’t remember how it feels not to be lonely. Phil is a vampire hunter living in his brother’s shadow.

When they meet, they find acceptance in each other that they don’t find anywhere else, but there are secrets and other forces at play trying to keep them apart.

married at first sight (ao3) - nothingbutniall

Summary: Dan and Phil get matched together on the new season of Married At First Sight.

Midnight Garden (ao3) - silentdescant

Summary: In which Phil is a gardener at the palace and Dan is a reclusive prince.

Mirror Mirror (ao3) - dont-tell-them-i-write-phan (QueenJunoTheGreat)

Summary: Dan and Phil get invited to stay at a historical castle with Martyn and Cornelia. Contrariwise, Daniel and Philip aren’t invited anywhere, but not many people can say no to a highly trained thief and a dragon. But that’s totally unrelated

My Spirit Love (ao3) - MySecretsX

Summary: If you fall in love with a spirit who drains you both away, do you live together for twenty years, or stay alone each day?

Phil has lived in his house since he was born, but it was when he turned seven he met Dan for the first time. It's all childish games and the muse of a naïve brain until your fifteen-year-old son claims to have fallen in love with the boy you've never seen.

Is anything possible for love?

oh you got me shaking (ao3) - chickenfree

Summary: Usually if the models talk to him, it’s just – them asking questions, Phil joking about how he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, even as he directs them.

They don’t try to argue with him, usually.

One Thousand Midnights or More (ao3) - JudeAraya

Summary: A decade of love told in moments.

Our House (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: Enemy is a harsh word. Rival sounds so immature, like Dan’s the star of some teen drama on Netflix. Competition is close, but not quite there.

In simple terms, Dan has a distaste for Phil Lester. Otherwise known as AmazingPhil in their line of business, for some reason that’s beyond Dan. What makes him so amazing anyway?

There’s a reason the network wanted Daniel Howell and Phil Lester for this specific series, and Dan guesses there’s really only one way to find out that answer.

or

And they were co-hosts. Oh my god they were co-hosts.

pastry chef attempts to steal phil's heart (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: If anyone asks, Prince Philip's sneaky morning journeys down to the royal pastry kitchen are for nothing more than the perfect cup of coffee.

The Secluded Glade (ao3) - palomeheart

Summary: Phil Lester has always been acutely aware of the ways he and his daemon Adra are different from others. Namely that Adra is male, hasn’t settled yet, and they share second sight that causes them to have dreams that show them glimpses of the future. Now, as a consequence of one of his prophetic dreams, he’s forced to go on a rescue mission to find a group of children that have gone missing from his town. He may have signed up for more than he bargained for, however, when they find another man who’s been captured with some differences of his own.

The Wanting Comes In Waves (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: After moving to the tiny Welsh coastal village of Rhagfyr, Phil struggles to find a new way of living, what with his new school and the decision of his future still on the table. Dan is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, but perhaps there’s beauty inside destruction.

they grew up so nicely, didn't they? (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Cornelia doesn’t just get a boyfriend when she starts dating Martyn, she gets a whole second family too. Kath and Nigel welcome her with open arms and she becomes a pseudo older sister to Phil.

She is there watching from the sidelines as a boy bolts right into Phil’s heart and sets up camp. She gets to watch as Dan and Phil build careers and an internet community and all the trials and tribulations, as well as the pride and happiness, it brings along.

When the Weather Breaks (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: Sitting across from Phil on that worn out velvet Starbucks sofa, sharing sickeningly sweet coffees and what they would like to think were hushed giggles, was the first time Dan felt a glimpse at what real love could feel like.

or

Perception checks, pining, and peppermint mochas.

with a bullet (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: phil returns to his room after a party thrown by his housemates only to discover that there’s already someone in his bed

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 2

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 5,586

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

February 2021

The shrill sound of Chris’ ringtone interrupted the song on the radio as he came to a stop at a red light. He sat up a little straighter when he read the name on his display screen and answered the call with a smile just as the light turned green. “Hey Ma,” he murmured, pulling through the interaction and checking his mirror before he merged into the left lane, just in time to see the Disney Studios sign a few blocks down.  

“Hi honey, are you in the middle of something?” 

“No, I’m just on my way to do some recording, what’s up?” 

“I just was on my way into the theater and wanted to call to see how you were,” Lisa told him, Chris smiling at the simple gesture. “I feel like it’s been a long time since we’ve actually gotten to catch up.” 

“I know, it has been,” he agreed. He’d missed her dearly since he flew out to California earlier in the month, preparing to spend a long time alone with just Dodger at his home here, and with Scott popping over whenever he got bored, until he left for Europe in May. He missed home. He missed waking up to a dusting of snow practically every day, the frigid temperatures almost demanding he stick to his usual rotations of sweaters to keep warm, and most of all, he missed his family. Sure, Scott was here, but it wasn’t the same as hopping in the car and just showing up at his mother's house unannounced, playing with Carly’s kids and hearing all the drama from their elementary and middle school lives, and seeing his sisters. He missed it all. “It’s honestly been such a hard adjustment going from seeing you guys everyday during the pandemic to now being back to my work schedule.” 

“Well we certainly miss having you and Scott around here all the time,” Lisa returned, and Chris knew she was being honest. He’d known that lockdown and quarantine periods had given Lisa the chance to finally have all her kids in the same place for an extended period of time, and with no projects looming over Chris and Scott. It was a blessing in disguise, one that he had to admit he enjoyed more than he thought, but eventually some semblance of reality came knocking at his door again. “The kids were just saying how much they loved having their uncles around.” 

“Ugh, Ma don’t tell me that. I’m having one of those days where I’m ready to just quit everything and go home,” he sighed, clenching his jaw and pressing his head back against the headrest just as he shifted into the turn lane, rolling to a stop at the intersection. The gate to the Burbank Studios was immediately to his right, and he watched carefully as traffic flew by him in the other lanes as he carefully navigated the turn. 

“You know it’s just one of your moods and by tomorrow you’ll be itching to go film,” Lisa told him, not unkindly and dismissively, but with the experience that came only by knowing Chris since the moment he was born. 

“Yeah…” he shrugged to himself, pausing as he parked the car and handed his ID and talking with the guard quickly before they opened the gate for him and he drove through, heading to the parking structure closest to the Pixar offices. He sighed as he thought about what his mother said, confessing to her, “I just feel… I don’t know… sometimes I'm a little lonely I guess.”

She hummed as she listened to him, pointing out, “I think some of that is normal when you went from being with us all, and living with Scott for almost a year and then back to regular life.” 

“You’re probably right,” he murmured, his voice low as his mind raced. “I think sometimes then I want to fill more of my time with new projects, but then I wonder if doing new projects is what’s keeping me from being able to find someone that I want to share my life with.” 

“What about Lindsey? Weren’t things going well with her after Christmas?” 

He all but cringed, remembering the short-lived relationship he’d attempted over the winter. “It fizzled. I just felt like, I don’t know, I was trying to make something work that wasn’t,” he shrugged, a blush settling on his cheeks.

“I think you need to just stop having your mind made up before you get into something,” Lisa told him with that experienced tone again, but there was a hint of well-meaning frustration and sympathy as well. “You know I love you honey, but sometimes you’re too much of a controller for your own good.” 

“Yeah, I think I’ve learned that the hard way,” he breathed, huffing out a short laugh as well.

“Just try to relax, Chris. Just let things happen the way they should,” she suggested. “You’re having an emotional day so try not to get into your head too much, okay?” 

“Okay, I will,” he told her, just as he pulled into a parking spot on the ground level of the garage, exchanging goodbyes with his mother before he hung up and turned the car off, grabbing his things before he opened the door and climbed out of the car. 

His head was down as he stepped around the car to the open front of the parking structure, crossing the short patch of grass to reach the sidewalk. His hands slid the key fob into his pocket, clicking the ‘lock’ button a few times before he shoved both hands in the pockets of his thin jacket. 

He could only hear the traffic outside the campus and the thoughts churning in his mind as he slowly got his bearings before he slowly walked towards the animation building, but he soon stopped in his tracks as a familiar voice said, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“What?” He asked, turning and seeing the frowning face of the person he’d come to love spending time with in the past three weeks in Burbank. “Oh hi Nat, I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

Her frown only deepened as she descended the last few steps, Chris’ eyes catching on the various pens behind her ears and sticking out of her jumpsuit pockets with a smirk. “I do work here you know,” her voice was sarcastic as it brought him out of his thoughts, his eyes meeting hers as she stood in front of him with a smirk spreading across her lips. 

“You know what I mean, smartass,” he smirked back, instinctively reaching out to take her water bottle as she adjusted it uncomfortably between her ribs and her elbow. “I didn’t expect to see you in the garage.” 

As Chris silently offered to hold something else, Nat handed him her sketchbook. With her now-free arm, Nat reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears before she readjusted her tote strap on her shoulder just as she jutted her chin out, nodding towards the garage behind her as she murmured, “Well I wish I hadn’t seen you in the garage because now I know you drive a Tesla.” 

He raised an eyebrow at her as they slowly headed towards the animation building across the campus, adjusting the sage green water bottle between his hands as he held the sketchbook gently, careful to not ruin any of the sketches inside. “Is that what you mean by ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’?” 

Nat let out a laugh, her nose scrunching while she held onto the strap of her bag. “I can’t even look at you the same now that I know you drive that snob machine,” she muttered playfully, Chris laughing along with her easily. 

“Alright, hot wheels, what do you drive?” 

“Not a Tesla, I can tell you that.” 

He laughed again, not surprised at how easily she was able to make him do so. “At least it’s electric so it saves me on gas,” he pointed out, smirking as she bumped his shoulder with her own. 

Nat rolled her eyes dramatically, her hand waving in the air vaguely as she drawled, “Yeah because out of all the people in the world who need to save money, it’s you…” 

“Well maybe you’d make more money if you actually showed up to work on time.” 

“I was on time today, I just had to run back to my car because I forgot my bag,” she retorted, hefting the aforementioned accessory on her shoulder from where it had begun slipping down.

He hummed again in a manner of disbelief, Nat bumping his shoulder again and causing the pair to break into near-giggles at the action. Their laughter died down once Nat dug her Disney ID out of her bag, swiping them into the building and leading towards the elevator. “So where have you been the past couple days? I was surprised when you weren’t in the dailies.” 

“I was doing a daily meeting with the animation department instead to keep everything on track,” Nat explained, shrugging as she walked into the elevator and leaned against the wall. “I’ll be back in ours tomorrow so I can continue to derail the meetings as usual.” 

“Good because it’s a lot more entertaining when you’re there.” 

“Well I’ll be there tomorrow so I’ll see you then,” Nat grinned before it turned into a smirk just as the elevator doors opened, Nat taking the bottle and sketchbook from Chris before she turned to quickly head down the hall to her daily. 

He followed her out of the elevator, ready to watch her head into her meeting like the flurry of chaos he’d quickly come to realize followed Nat wherever she went, but something in him begged him to stop her. He spoke up, his voice loud enough to get her attention but not capture everyone else’s as he asked, “Oh wait, Nat, are you getting lunch?” 

She turned, her brows furrowed a bit as she glanced at the clock opposite her, laughing as she answered, “Considering it’s only nine-thirty, probably not.” 

“I’m meaning later, smartass,” Chris sighed, his shoulders relaxing at the teasing however. “I was going to grab lunch at the commissary later in case you want to join me.” 

“Wow you big Tesla-driving movie stars have time for lunch with the lowly animation employees?” 

“I think it’s more the other way around. You’re the one that’s in demand here, the only value I offer is talkin’ a lot.” 

“Well you do that spectacularly,” she smirked, stepping towards him a bit before she paused, still near enough to her final destination to not have to outright run soon, but far enough that he wished she was just a fraction of an inch closer. 

“Maybe I don’t want to have lunch with you after all…” 

“I could meet you for lunch around noon,” Nat offered, raising her eyebrows until he nodded, but quickly a smirk slid back onto her lips as she rolled her eyes. “I mean, I can’t leave you alone or all those single women will be fighting over a spot at the table with you.” 

The smile that was on Chris’ mouth seemed to linger as he watched Nat disappear down the hallway before he turned and went his own direction. At thirty-nine years of age, Chris felt like he’d been around the block and had met enough people to be fairly good at reading them, but there was something about Nat that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

He had always been drawn to funny people, loving to have a good laugh and bantering back and forth and thought that’s initially what had drawn him to Nat, making him feel so at ease with his new co-worker. Sure, that had helped, but then he had wondered if it was his interest and awe at what she did, being so enamored with her artistic talent but in the past three weeks he’d known her, he had figured out that wasn’t it either. There was something about her, something more. It wasn’t that she was funny, or talented, it was that there was more to her. There was so much depth and emotion behind her easy going laughter and charismatic demeanor. 

The more he’d gotten to know her, he’d seen the deep and raw emotions she shared when she talked. He’d seen her intelligence and hard work when she explained how to visually communicate something they discussed in their meetings. He’d seen her warmth when someone new came in and she immediately welcomed them into the group. She was so much more than what was simply seen on the surface and the more he got to know her, the more he wanted to keep diving in deeper with her. 

And those thoughts rang in his mind as he sat in the daily with Angus, curiously listening but silent as he observed the quick meeting before he headed to the next building, getting buzzed in by the security guards before he followed the familiar hallway into what had quickly become his “usual” recording studio, complete with Rob waiting for him, as always, in the chair in front of the various panels. Only this time, the curly-haired ball of chaos wasn’t cracking jokes and settling into her own seat, equipped with enough water and snacks to get her through three weeks of camping and every single colored pencil that was known to man. And he found himself disappointed she wasn’t there, distracting him at every move unintentionally, and as he realized that, he knew he was absolutely fucked. 

He found himself counting down the minutes until it was noon, grabbing himself a salad at the long bar of choices before he went to sit at a table tucked in the corner, his blue eyes looking around to try to spy those familiar curls. And although he knew time wasn’t moving quite as quickly as he perceived, every passing second without Nat, he found himself fearing that she’d – laughably, considering this wasn’t even a fuckin’ date – stand him up. She’d likely figure it was better to get ahead on the edits from the meeting, working through lunch at her desk, leaving him by himself, with no way to know. 

Chris’ leg was shaking nervously as he kept waiting, eyes darting around the room until he saw the tiny whirlwind come bursting through the doors. He watched her pull off her sunglasses, stopping and making a face when they got caught on her hair before she tugged it out and then tucked them in her giant tote bag. Chris watched as Nat ran a hand through her hair and looked around, her face lighting up with that gorgeous smile as she waved to him before hurrying over and plopping down in the empty chair with a thud. 

He raised a single brow, suppressing a laugh as he asked her sarcastically, “Are you ever on time?” 

“Nope, not even to my birth. I had to get evicted,” she shrugged, smirking back at him before she turned, digging around in her bag and pulling out her phone and wallet, resting them on the table in front of her.  

He let out a laugh at the unexpected answer, simply agreeing, “At least you're consistent.” 

“I admire your choice for lunch but I hope you know I’m eating carbs,” Nat told him, pointing a finger at the bowl of greens and vegetables in front of him, carefully picked to be within his pre-set meal plan for his upcoming film. “I need them today.” 

He nodded, reaching for his card and going to get up with her, asking, “What do you want? I’ll get it.” 

“No, no, you don’t need to. I don’t even know exactly what I want yet, I need to look and see what speaks to me,” she explained with a sheepish smile as she shrugged. “I’ll be right back.” 

Once again, Chris was left at the table alone with only his thoughts but every single one of them was filled with her. He didn’t mean to stare, but found his blue eyes following her as she walked over to the long bar of food, comically picking something up and heading toward the cashier only to stop, look at with a face of sudden disgust and go back to swap it for something else. 

Watching her was a chance to observe every thought going through her head, observing as she continued to make faces at each of the food choices before eventually getting a sandwich put on her tray, carrying it toward the cashier before stopping in her tracks and making a quick detour to the soft serve ice cream machine. Seeing it almost caused him to laugh out loud but he eventually did when he saw the ridiculously tall swirl she was creating. Hearing his laugh from across the bustling commissary made Nat turn her head from where she was, smiling widely like a proud child with their treat. 

It was then that the feeling of knowing that he was fucked yet again returned to his brain. He had realized that although he had spent a lot of time with her over the past three weeks of working together, this was the first time he’d seen her completely outside of work mode. She wasn’t focusing during a meeting, working on a sketch, or trying to get something done and there was just something about that which felt different to him. He saw that beautiful smile light up on her face just by hearing his laugh and if that didn’t do something to him, he didn’t know what did. Even her slightly baggy denim jumpsuit and boots that he swore would have looked tragic on anyone else seemed to hang so cutely on her frame and just somehow screamed Nat. She was so effortlessly attractive to him, and he didn’t quite understand how something as simple as her picking out her lunch had him so magnetized to her, but yet, here he was. So completely drawn to her in a way he’d never felt, especially not this hard in years, and in a way that almost scared him. He wanted to do it right, but he also had to be realistic. He barely knew anything about her outside of the fact that she worked here – and was fucking talented – and that she was friends with Mark and Jamie. There was likely no chance of anything happening, but it didn’t mean his brain understood that very realistic possibility when it screamed at him to be around her. 

Nat made her way back to the table, delicately balancing the soft serve and sandwich on her tray with a grin. Chris shook his head as she sat down, muttering, “I should have known you’re a dessert at lunch kind of girl.” 

“I’m a dessert anytime kind of girl,” Nat amended easily, handing a spoon to Chris. “I hate how fast this always melts though, you need to help me eat it.” 

He laughed as he took the spoon, confessing, “You’re not going to find me saying no to ice cream.” 

“Well get working on that side, it’s already dripping,” she instructed him as she picked up her own spoon, taking a swipe of the chocolate and vanilla soft serve. “I deserve this today.” 

His brows furrowed as he ate off his spoon, tilting his head. “Why’s that? Something wrong?” 

She shrugged, waving her hand dismissively and explaining, “We’re just behind where we should be and I can’t seem to light a fire under some of the other animators.” 

“Is that a common problem?” 

“Not usually. I think it’s just everyone getting used to being in-person again, it’ll take some adjustment. I feel like I’m still adjusting and I’ve been back longer than most people,” she admitted to Chris with a short laugh. 

He nodded, able to understand that exactly. Hell, it wasn’t just adults who were struggling with getting back to real life, his sister’s kids had all expressed similar feelings when they got back into the swing of the in-person school routines recently. “Were you in California during everything last year?” He asked as he took another swipe of ice cream from the bowl. 

“No I was in Seattle, that’s where I’m from,” she answered, putting her spoon down momentarily to take a sip from her water bottle.

“Oh really? I didn’t know that,” Chris sat back, watching her carefully. “Is your family there?” 

“Yeah they’re all still there,” she said, meeting his eyes with a smile.“I have two older sisters who both have kids so it was so great to spend so much uninterrupted time with them.” 

“You seem like you’re pretty close to them all.” 

“Oh I am. I miss them like crazy,” she admitted with a grin. “You’d think with being the single aunt, I'd be able to go up and see them more often but this keeps me pretty busy.” 

He couldn’t help but feel his ears perk up at her admission of being single, a little spark of hope inside him even though his logical brain reminded him how he still didn’t even hardly know her. His mother’s words came flooding back to him, reminding him that when he tried to control the situations they often didn’t go well, so he instead sat back in his chair, resting the spoon in the empty ice cream cup before grabbing the fork to dig into his salad and mentioned, “You seem to really love your job.” 

“I’m sure I feel the same about my job as you do about yours,” Nat smirked knowingly, winking at Chris as he blushed sheepishly at the harmless callout. “There’s days when you don’t want to go, when you feel burned out and exhausted. But then you see this beautiful piece of art and realize you were part of creating that…. That beautiful thing that might move someone to tears or they might talk about with their friends, or watch during a low moment in their life and then you realize just how lucky you are to get to be part of bringing that art to life.” 

Chris just kept sitting there as he looked at her, so moved by her words but more so by her ability to express her feelings and those beautiful emotions she felt so deeply. He loved just being able to sit and listen to her, to get to know her and the way she thought and felt as well as the little details of her life that he found so amusing like the fact she hated cats, wanted to be a ride operator for Space Mountain when she was a kid, and that she thought Iron Man was the best Avenger. Everything with her felt so natural and after so long of feeling like he was surrounded by social climbers or people who wanted something by being in proximity to him, Nat felt like a much needed breath of fresh air. 

The only time he had a frown the entire lunch was when Nat checked the time on her phone and told him she needed to get back to work but told him, “I shouldn’t have had that ice cream, I can already feel myself crashing.” 

“You should have gone with the strawberry instead of chocolate and vanilla,” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat once he finished poking at his salad, finally admitting defeat. “That one looked pretty good.” 

“Maybe if you’re around for lunch tomorrow we can try one then,” she offered as she wiped her lips with a napkin, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Sounds like a deal,” he nodded back, but quickly smirked. “Unless you almost ditch me like you did today.” 

She rolled her eyes, sighing as she muttered, “Oh please, I was only a few minutes late.” 

“Yeah but I had no idea where you were. You could have been ditching me,” he laughed as he remembered how many thoughts had taken center stage in his mind while he waited patiently for her to come to lunch earlier. “You better give me your number so I can make sure you’re on time tomorrow.” 

She stared at him for several long moments, almost weighing the options in her mind before she finally said, “Only if you swear you won’t start texting me the minute the clock strikes twelve.” 

“I will at 12:01, how about that?” 

“C’mon Chris, you should know by now you have to give at least until 12:05, if not 12:10,” she laughed, and the grin that made its way onto her lips threatened to also arrive on his as he watched her from across the table. 

“Alright, I’ll give you until 12:04 but that’s it,” he placated with a shake of his head, smiling as Nat pulled her phone out.

He watched as she tapped around on the screen a bit before she handed the phone to him, open to an empty contact for him to fill in. He did so silently, but before long she met his eyes from across the table and asked, “I’m going to regret giving you my number, aren’t I?” 

“Probably, but it’s too late now,” he shrugged with a loud laugh, smirking at her playfully.

Nat felt her foot softly tapping to the low beat of the music that hummed in the background of the outdoor bar. She was sitting hunched over a small round table with Mark on one side and James on the other while they all sipped their drinks, delving into the office gossip that had accumulated throughout the week and whatever other things they wanted to have time to fully talk about. It had been their Friday night tradition for years now and it was something they’d missed throughout the past year, but Nat felt so happy that they finally were here again huddled around a table while they animatedly talked. 

They were in the middle of sharing a round of loud laughs when Nat felt Mark’s elbow in her ribs, nudging her as he whispered, “Don’t look now but that guy over at that table keeps scanning you.” 

“Really?” Nat was surprised by the admission and had to ask, “Is he cute?” 

“Yeah and he’s coming over so act natural,” Mark whispered quickly before leaning back in his chair to make it less obvious they had been talking about him. 

She sat up a little, turning as she heard footsteps stop a few feet away. The man awkwardly waved from where he stood, distanced enough from them to be considered safe, but close enough that she could hear him over the music as he said, “Hi, I’m Calvin and I was just wondering if I could get you a drink.” 

With an apologetic smile sent to Calvin, she gently turned him down by saying, “That’s so nice of you to offer, but no thank you.” 

With a nod and a sheepish, embarrassed look, Calvin turned and headed back to his table, shaking his head as he reached his group of friends. Nat turned her attention back to her own table, taking a sip of her drink before she reached for more of the nachos sitting in the center. 

“Excuse me, did you really just turn him down?” Mark had to clarify with wide eyes. 

Nat just shrugged, tucking a piece of curly hair behind her ear, “Yeah, what’s the big deal?” 

“He was gorgeous, that’s the big deal,” Mark retorted, a single eyebrow raised at Nat. “Seriously though if you don’t want him, I’ll go get his number for myself.” 

“Seriously Nat, if you want to go over with him, you know we don’t care,” Jamie added, a slight smirk on his lips. 

She shook her head, placating them and responding, “No, I’m good.” 

“He’s been eyeing you all night, it might be a good opportunity.” 

“I’m just not interested tonight,” she brushed off, shrugging her shoulders again. 

“Wait, you’re not still upset about Shane the douchebag are you?” Jamie practically groaned before launching into his explanation, “Nat, him getting engaged so fast only shows it wasn’t right for you.” 

“No, no, it’s not that,” Nat scrunched her nose up in response. 

Silence fell over the small table before she saw Jamie lean back in his chair and exchange a look with Mark, the two of them seeming to having a silent conversation. It was driving Nat nuts that she had no idea what they were wordlessly discussing but once Jamie took a sip of his beer, he simply shrugged, “Maybe it has more to do with the guy who you had lunch with today,” 

“Chris?” Nat asked, almost incredulous with wide eyes. When the guys nodded and shrugged back, she rolled her eyes, sarcastically adding, “Yeah right, that’s totally it.” 

“C’mon Nat, we were having lunch at the same time and we saw you two. It was so obvious you guys were into each other. Even Katherine from the tech department made a comment about it,” Jamie couldn’t help but laugh. 

Before she could even refute them, Mark chimed in with a point of his finger, “And don’t think we haven’t noticed you staring at him during the dailies when you think nobody is looking.”

“Okay, so he’s pretty. So what? I’m pretty sure 98% of America thinks so too,” Nat wouldn’t deny that she’d noticed him on more than one occasion but noted that, “It’s not like it matters.” 

“Apparently it does if you’re turning down that guy over there with the way your love life has been,” Mark refuted her argument, raising his eyebrow as he noted, “You’ve been with what? One person since Shane?” 

“Barely.” 

“Exactly! So why aren’t you going over to that guy?” Jamie asked, his voice low so as to not draw attention despite his hands waving around wildly. 

“Because she’s saving herself for Captain America,” Mark said while lifting his beer to his lips once again, causing Jamie to burst out in laughter at the comment. 

She rolled her eyes and huffed, “Yeah because Chris Evans is just dying to get the weird Pixar artist into bed.” 

“Well if he doesn’t, he’s certainly giving a good impression because he was flirting with you like crazy,” she saw the way Jamie looked at her pointedly, telling her that he wasn’t just teasing her and actually meant the words he was saying. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, he flirts with literally everyone,” Nat pointed out just before she took a sip of her cocktail. 

Mark made an indistinguishable grunt while sipping at his drink, holding up a finger before putting his glass back down on the table and piped in, “Not true, he hasn’t flirted with me.” 

“That’s because he’s straight, Mark,” Jamie snickered. 

“I know and that’s truly a tragedy,” Mark shook his head comically, causing another round of laughter to break out around the table. "I tried shooting my shot with him when he would stop by the marvel offices, but Feige was quite the cockblock.” 

“And, you know, again… he’s straight,” Jamie reminded once again before motioning across the table, “And interested in Nat.”

“He’s not interested in me!” Nat insisted with an exasperated sigh, her jaw set tightly.

Jamie just shrugged, an annoying smirk on his lips before he went on, “Well even if he’s not, you’re interested in him.” 

“Yeah me and every other female around,” Nat muttered as she mindlessly adjusted the coaster underneath her drink before she dramatically slumped in her chair. “But that’s what almost is like, the worst part, because he’s such a great person. He’s so much fun and a really genuine person, not to mention a great person to talk to and yet everyone just likes him because he’s gorgeous. I think that’s so sad.” 

“Maybe you just need to show him there are girls out there who like him for who he is,” Mark was the one to point out honestly. 

Jamie laughed, shaking his head as he said, “Um with that drool that is coming out of her mouth every time she looks at him, I’m guessing he knows she likes him.” 

“Well in a couple weeks he’ll be done with his voice work so that’ll be the last we’ll see of him,” Nat knew that her words were painfully true, knowing that as much as she enjoyed spending time with him, it was going to end all too soon so she asked,  “So can we just drop it, please? 

“Alright well when you’re ready to move on from dreaming of Chris, we’ll be your wingmen and find you someone to get your mind off of him.” 

Nat had to laugh at Jamie’s comment which was solidified from a solid nod from Mark, and as they swiftly changed the subject to the latest happenings in Mark and Jamie’s personal lives, Nat knew that even though they were both in relationships, and Jamie had a kid, that these two were absolutely, without a doubt, her people. And while she was hesitant to reopen some doors, ones that had been locked away for nearly a year now, she couldn’t help but feel that something was coming her way, especially after how easy lunch felt, even with – as Mark would put it – Captain America.

[hopefulvittori]

Reminiscence (I) - Birds of a feather

Carlo (Lies of P) x Past!OC/Reader

Hurt/Comfort

I really appreciate the notes I've got. As a beginner blogger/fanfic writer I didn't expect this many, but made my day nonetheless. So, thank you! :)

I've been listening to this track on loop for most of the writing (yes, I love pain haha). It gave me the perfect mood to write this story.

Although her mind is long forgotten, her soul remembers those days before the pandemic and the puppet frenzy. She was a lonely hatchling, trying to leave her unsafe nest behind. Suddenly, the one who tormented her, now reaching out for her with caring hands. Will she embrace this kind of warmth, leaving the ruined nest behind?

──────────

Tap-tap, tap-tap.

The girl suddenly woke up to an abrupt knocking on her window. There were no trees before her house, yet she saw a pretty long branch touching the glass pane. When she thought her mind played tricks on her, she heard some voices coming from outside. She swept her messy hair out of face before getting up from her bed.

"L-let me go, Romeo! What if they're going to catch us?!" One of the boys said in a whiny tone. 

"No can do. We had a bargain." The other one replied in a deadpan voice. "It's too late to back down now anyways."

'Those two again...'She recognized those voices. Her stomach turned to water.

She carefully went to the window to take a peek behind the curtains. Romeo held back Carlo from leaving while holding a pretty long branch. It was a dumbfounding sight to say the least. While she felt neutral towards the tall blonde boy, Carlo has always been a thorn in her side. Although she was no orphan, she often visited the Charity House due to her boredom and loneliness. Yet every time she tried to take her mind off from her troubles, the mischievous boy always sabotaged her peaceful days at the House. What was he doing? Tried to prank her past midnight? Then again, if that was the case, he would've come all this way without his best friend. Romeo literally dragged him before her home.

As soon as Vittori opened the balcony's windows, the two boys froze in their places. Awkward silence surrounded them... until Romeo dropped the branch and pushed his friend onward.

"Good evening, milady. Or shall I say goodnight? I only made sure this young man arrived at his destination safely. I will leave him in your capable hands now." He bowed theatrically before her as he turned towards Carlo. "If you're trying to leave, I will kill you myself."

The younger boy looked bewildered, yet he didn't move an inch. He was sure that Romeo was fully serious this time. His glare held that awful bloodlust. That unpleasant quiet returned as the blond boy's footsteps faded away. The girl couldn't bear it anymore.

"...What do you want?" She asked venomously, staring him down.

"I..." Carlo started, his breath hitched. "I came to apologize."

For his mischievous reputation, he was quite the opposite now. He was scared... afraid even. Despite this, the girl raised her eyebrows in a skeptical way.

"You know, I can't quite hear you from here." She said smugly. Then she pointed to the ladder next to the balcony. "How about coming up and telling it to my face, hm?"

The teen boy sighed in frustration. He shook his head vehemently as he grabbed the ladder and started climbing. He moved quite fast and he didn't even get tired from the strain. As soon as he reached his destination, his nerviness returned. Vittori felt the same way, although her distrust made her a bit calmer.

"Well?"

"...I want to apologize." He said quietly.

"For what? Spilling ink into my tea? Stealing my books? Taunting me on every occasion?" She hissed as she closed the distance between themselves.

His breath hitched once again. She could swear she saw his hands shaking.

"Vittori, I... I didn't know about your circumstances. If I knew about them, I wouldn't have made those jokes about you or your family." He sighed, gaze downcasted. "I'm sorry."

"My circumstances wouldn't change anything, Carlo! You chose cruelty!" Vittoria yelled then she leaned closer to the boy. "Is that how you want to be a Stalker?"

Before he could rise up against her in anger, dogs' barking interrupted their argument. She sighed in frustration as she grabbed the boy by his arm.

"Drat, those stupid mutts again... Get inside before they're going to notice you!"

He obeyed without any question. After they got inside, the girl quickly closed the windows and lit up a few candles. Before she could beckon him to sit down, Carlo looked around her room. It was a small, but comfortable gallery room. Probably because of the warm colors and the bookshelves. Even her bed was surrounded by bookcases. He noticed a small basket next to her bed. He couldn't see any pets around though.

"Do you have...?"

Vittori shook her head.

"Why though?"

"My sis-in-law's dogs. I had to get rid of my cat because of them." She said with a quiet sigh. "I just gave her to Matron today... just as she got pregnant."

"What did your brother say?" Carlo asked with curiously raised eyebrows.

"Nothing. That I need to get rid of Pumpkin..."

She gazed down in a defeated manner. The boy clenched his fists in frustration.

"This is so unfair..."

"Life is unfair, Carlo."

"You should've said something. Anything."

"You don't know her OR my brother." She said with a scornful tone. "As soon as they've got married, I'm just another mouth to be fed."

She sat down at the edge of her bed. While she's been avoiding the boy's eyes for a while, she pointed at the chair at her desk. Carlo pulled the chair towards the bed and sat down before Vittori. They've been staying that way for a few minutes.

"How did you find it out?" She asked after a while. "I mean my..."

"I eavesdropped on you while you were talking with Miss Sophia. It was not my intention though." He gave her a small smile.

The girl chuckled a bit.

"Then I assume you told this fact to Romeo. And he dragged you all the way here to make your apology official. Because you were afraid to do it on your own."

He puffed his cheeks in a defiant manner.

"I wasn't afraid..."

"Romeo is a good friend." She said in silent reverie. "I wish I had good friends like him."

"You can." He said with a voice full of confidence. He leant closer and looked at her as welcoming as possible.

It surprised her. His sudden kindness scared her so much. It was more frightening than the screams of her sister-in-law. She heard it. Even now, even in her head. It caused her so much pain. She looked at him doubtfully, then shook her head in denial.

"I... I can't."

He tilted his head a bit, eyebrows knitted questionly.

"Why not?"

"Because I... To them, I'm just a stupid girl." She sighed in mild frustration.

"Is that what she said to you? Or do you truly think you're stupid?" Carlo's sharp tone held righteous anger.

She became suddenly silent. Vittoria looked at her hands in a self-degrading way. The boy saw that and grabbed her wrists more firmly than he wanted to. As soon as he heard her slightly hissing in pain, he immediately eased the pressure on her hands.

"If you're an air-headed fool, you wouldn't have this many books. You wouldn't read this much about those topics the alchemists keep spitting about."

Although she kept being silent, her azure eyes gazed into Carlo's brown ones.

"Vittori. An air-headed fool wouldn't write about the things you're wishing for. And it's not a sin to think that way either."

"You... read my novels?" She asked with a shaky breath.

"I did." Carlo nodded curtly. "Though I'm not a bookworm such as you, but I did."

For a moment, sudden but comfortable silence surrounded them. The boy smiled fondly before he continued.

"It's not a sin to wish for a better world. I think those hopes and ideals would make you a fine Stalker."

She felt a barrier breaching inside of her soul. Like a wall of fire shattering those doubts, cleansing those hurtful words from her mind. Like a mantra of some sorts, Vittori chanted these words in her head:

She wasn't a waste like that woman said so. She had valuable ideals. She can be a Stalker. 

As that realization hit her, teardrops fell from her eyes. One by one, the drops fell onto her laps. Her breath hitched as she quietly sobbed. Her hands became limp in the boy's hold. Carlo's eyebrows knitted in concern. He stood up from his chair to get closer to her. The boy started to wipe the girl's tears away with his sleeves. His gentleness was almost astonishing.

He didn't say anything. How could he? He just realized that their situation is quite similar. How their closest ones made them suffer the most. How both of them desired their affection. Their love. Oh how he hated this feeling...  

'Like birds of a feather, huh' He thought bitterly.

When Vittoria calmed down, she looked at him with a weak smile. She appreciated his kindness. She realized that beneath that smug, mischievous layer, there's a gentle soul. When she saw that he was about to say something, she interrupted him.

"It's alright... I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" He asked quietly.

"Yes. Thank you, Carlo."

He bowed his head as he stroked her tear-streaked cheek. The girl cherished his gentleness by leaning into his touch. They stayed that way for a long time. The silence of the night was comforting. It seemed neither of them wanted to let those moments go.

Sadly, the teen boy pulled away, his gaze shifted towards the windows. Although dawn didn't come any sooner, if someone noticed his absence at the Charity House, they would immediately notify his old man. It's not like he cared about his temper tantrums, but he would rather stay at the orphanage than his own room. 

"I need to go." He said quietly.

She hummed in agreement then reached for the balcony's windows.

"Will you be alright? I mean it IS past midnight."

"Hey, I'm going to be the best Stalker in all of Krat." He said with a smug grin. "How could I be the best if they're going to catch me?"

The girl only rolled her eyes as she opened the windows. A cold wind swept across the room. Both of them felt it immediately.

"Hurry up before you catch a cold." She said with a playfully impatient tone while poking him in the back. When she looked at him, he seemed like he was thinking. She poked him once again. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He said, shaking his head. "We're going to meet up after training. With Romeo I mean. Tomorrow. Care to join?"

Vittori slightly tilted her head in a questioning manner. She didn't say anything, just stared at the boy.

"You said you wished for a friend like him." He continued as he leapt out to the balcony. "You'll start with us... and I'll start with you. What do you say, Vittori?"

He reached his hand towards the girl. It was another kind gesture: an offer of friendship. It was a scary feeling, but in an exciting way. They wanted her as a companion. How could she refuse? 

She slowly accepted his handshake as a warm smile graced her lips.

"Just call me Tori."

──────────

I can't believe that I wrote this in one sitting, but here we are. Once the concept came to me, I just couldn't stop until I was done. x)

Besides a few cutscenes and notes, Carlo's personality (besides the mischievous part) was left ambiguous. He seemed like a good hearted rebel to me who wanted to be THE ideal Stalker so no one has to suffer the way he did. He could easily empathize with the Falcon's situation because of his relationship with his shitty father. That's why his behavior changes abruptly. In other words: he's a tsundere/jerk with a heart gold xD

I'll probably make an OC sheet for Tori soonish. Not sure when though. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my story. I wish you guys a wonderful weekend! ^^

[edge-oftheworld]

I can’t remember who said it but someone floated the idea that calm was released in the wrong era to get the recognition and popularity it deserves and I do see that, the more I look into it the more I notice a technical expertise that I’ve seen in very little else (like 5sos5 is good, in a softer way, and youngblood is too in a more fun, adventurous way) but there’s something about them having perfected their youngblood sound and just taken every side branch off it they could think of with the same foundation and practiced their instruments so much that the confidence is noticeable and then also the fact that the first six songs people heard and they were so diverse that they didn’t really realise they were by the same people and those people were 5sos. and then the fact that the album tells one of the most cohesive stories I’ve ever heard and sonically gets pulled together in the second half by not in the same way and thin white lies and lonely heart and the cohesiveness is incredible, especially with its encore kill my time which draws everything together from the lyrics and imagery to the self deprecation to the industrial pop rock sound with incredible vocals in from the low to falsetto ranges and they worked so hard with so many people to create it. was the diversity what prevented some sales or was it the pandemic? or was it always meant to be a masterpiece that was never a piece of its time but timeless like the influences from the 90s and early 2000s that we would come back to every time they release a new album showing the skills they picked up in this era and more and go wow they did this, they were doing this even then?

but it makes sense doesn’t it? youngblood came after the likes of reputation and evolve where we were just getting into that bass-led slightly darker than the early to mid 2010s pop sound and calm is more a twentyteens than 20s album, in my far from expert opinion they shouldn’t have sat on it that long and released it in 2019 before we stopped going down that route, but I think they learned that lesson and they made a point not to hold onto it any longer and weren’t we blessed to enter the pandemic with this? maybe we weren’t ready for how dark and emotional it is and maybe we still haven’t learned how to feel it as much as we need to. but here is a piece of work that is going to last and be discovered again and again and can be enjoyed at any age and that’s the beauty of it.

[ggidolsmuts]

Coming Home - KARA Jiyoung

You're in Incheon, holding up a sign at the arrival hall, the media contingent is out in force today, and you're surrounded on all sides by camera-toting fans and reporters. Out through the glass doors comes your passenger, and you're moving with the media crowd to intercept her. She's wearing large sunglasses and a mask, but everyone knew who she was. Of course, a million bulbs go off when she appears, and you're squinting as she walks towards you.

"You're my driver?"

"Yes, let me take your luggage." Her bodyguards clear the way for two of you, and shortly after she is ducking into the passenger seat of your car as you hurry to stow her luggage in the trunk. You get in the drivers seat, and the noise slowly dies away as you zoom away from the media.

"Welcome back, Miss Kang."

"Miss Kang? Since when did you become so professional, Mr. Driver-nim?" Jiyoung cracks up and laughs.

"Fair enough." You hold out a hand behind you, and she grasps it joyfully. "Welcome back Jiyoung."

"Good to see you, it's been too long!" It had been too long. Your relationship with Jiyoung can only be described as close-friends-with-benefits. The emotional side of your relationship with her has always been platonic, and the physical side very much the opposite. You were each other's booty call, emotional support, and emergency contact. You would give her advice on her boyfriends and Jiyoung would give you advice on your relationship, often over a bottle of wine.

The two of you are horrible at relationships though, and when the two of you inevitably end up single again, a dry Friday night or a lonely Saturday night would often be spent together instead, taking care of each other's pent-up frustrations.

She rushed to you when you fell down some stairs and ended up in the hospital, helping you get discharged and even dropping by to check on you at home. You were speed dial "1" on her phone when her apartment got broken into while she was in Japan—you took care of everything for her and she didn't even have to fly back. The two of you stuck by and stuck up for each other in every way save one.

"Are we going to the usual place?" Jiyoung asks as she browses her phone.

"Yup, are you tired? Your apartment is still like half an hour away, you can take a nap." On cue she lets out a large yawn.

"Uwaaaargh yeah, I'll probably doze off, wake me up when we're there." Jiyoung stretches before resting her head against the window, and you make sure to drive smoothly to not jolt her awake. Thirty minutes later you reach her apartment, and your fingers drum a whole song on the steering wheel before she comes back sans luggage.

"Thanks, let's go, I'm starving!" Off you go to your usual spot, a restaurant that the two of you have frequented many times over the years.

"After you."

"Why thank you, wow this place hasn't changed, I'm glad it survived the pandemic."

"You're welcome, I was keeping it alive, I came here every day and ordered for both of us."

"Are you sure it isn't because you eat enough for the two of us?" Jiyoung jokes, laughing merrily in the quiet restaurant. She blanches at the increased prices, but otherwise orders the usual stuff she always gets.

"So, how does it feel to be back in Korea?"

"Good! It's good to be back, I miss Korean food."

"You can't get it in Japan?"

"You know it's not the same. Here, cheers!" The two of you pause to drink the ice cold beer just placed on your table.

"Don't go missing Japanese food now."

"It's fine, I won't be here for long."

"Oh, how long will you be here for?"

"Just two weeks, recording, learning the choreo, then back to Japan."

"Damn, that's going to be a busy two weeks," you say, spooning some stew over her rice.

"Thanks. Yeah it'll be tiring but fun, I'm looking forward to seeing the unnies and meeting Youngji again!"

You nod, and the two of you go through the food in between catching up on each other's lives, exchanging stories about pandemic life in Korean and Japan. Jiyoung could definitely eat enough for the two of you as she completely cleans the dishes up.

"Damn, you really miss Korean food huh?"

"When you haven't been home for two years, yeah."

With the plates cleared, you lean back on your chair and wave for another beer. Jiyoung waves another one for herself too. She leans back too, drinking a good half of her glass in one gulp and letting out a satisfied whistle.

"Whew, that was good food. Beer's just okay, we should have had somaek, I'm only lightly buzzed." Despite that Jiyoung yawns, and that's your cue to take her back.

"And yet you're yawning, you must be tired from travel, let's go, I called a driver for us, they can drive us back." The driver arrives, and you get in the backseat of your car with Jiyoung. She's quiet on the ride back, leaning against the window, seemingly half asleep. You arrive at her place with little fanfare, and surprisingly Jiyoung sends the driver away.

"Wait, I still have to drive back."

"No you can go, thank you!" Jiyoung pays and send the driver away. "You don't have to go right away, come in, sober up before you go." You shrug and follow her up to her apartment, stumbling out of your shoes.

"Still clumsy as ever. Another drink?"

"I'm trying to sober up here."

"Fine, I'll get you something else, but I'm getting another drink." Jiyoung comes back with a glass of red wine and a glass of sparkling water. She flops onto the couch next to you and sips her red wine.

"So, how are things with... what was her name? Jisoo? Jisu? Jisook?"

"Jisoo, and we uhh, broke up, not being able to meet during the pandemic kinda just killed things off." You wince and gulp your beer. "What about you? You still with Jaehyuk? Jehyuk? Jaehyeok?"

"Jaehyuk, yeah, it didn't work out, we couldn't stand living together during the pandemic, so yeah."

"Ouch, and here I thought moving in with Jisoo would've saved things."

"And I thought if Jaehyuk and I had some time apart we'd save our relationship. Guess it doesn't work either way. Oh well, cheers to single life." Jiyoung downs the rest of her wine in a single gulp.

"Hmm, cheers indeed." You finish your sparkling water. "Thanks for the drink, I think I'm gonna go—" Before you can finish your sentence Jiyoung swings her legs around you, and in a flash she's straddling you on the sofa. She tilts your chin up with a hand, looking into your eyes. The brief thought had floated through your mind when you realized both of you were single again, but you didn't want to press the issue right after seeing her again.

Jiyoung had other ideas though.

"Stay." Her look and huskily whispered word is all you need to close the distance and capture her lips, her arms around your neck, your hands around her waist. The living room is quiet, save for her soft gasps and your low moans as the two of you familiarize yourselves with each other physically again. Right along her left jaw line, and down to her neck, but switch to kiss her right shoulder.

Each and every touch on those spots draws a shiver from Jiyoung, making her melt on your lap as she runs her hands underneath your t-shirt. Your vision is annoyingly obscured when she pulls it off, but you get to do the same to her, unzipping the back of her tube top before tugging it away, revealing her generous chest.

Your hands pull her in for another kiss before moving down her body, going up and over her collarbone before stopping.

"Left or right?" Jiyoung reads your pause—you were trying to remember which of her breasts was more sensitive.

"Right?" you wonder out loud, drifting a finger down.

"Are you sure? Maybe it's my right and your left? Or maybe it has changed?" Jiyoung teases you jokingly.

"It can change?"

"Sure, I had to drive on the left side instead of the right side in Japan, maybe these babies switched too."

"Now you're just fucking with me." You put a full hand over her right breast, and the gasp and delicate whine she releases tells you that yes, she is fucking with you. You punish her by grazing your fingers over it, letting her feel your skin trace her tit, but never grabbing, never squeezing it. On the opposite side, Jiyoung grabs the left one fully, squeezing and kneading herself.

The two of you keep going—Jiyoung's nails make you shiver as she draws lines down your right arm, and your left arm trails down her ticklish left side. She exposes her neck delightfully when she tosses her head back in sensitivity, and you plant a few light kisses on her. It doesn't get any better as you go down to her thigh, grabbing a handful of her juicy ass over her jeans before tracing inwards between her legs.

The sound of fingers over jeans has never been more erotic as you rub Jiyoung, and you can already feel the heat radiating through the rough fabric. A little more insistent in your rubbing, Jiyoung is forced to claw at your shoulders, and you watch her midriff tremble and twitch as she let’s a soft moan leak out, a small orgasm rolling over her.

"Already?"

"It's been a while since we broke up," she says matter-of-factly. "Your turn." Jiyoung teases you with a deep grind on your crotch, making you grit your teeth as she gets off you and settling herself between your legs. Your shorts and boxers come off easily, and your shiver as her hands move up your thighs does not miss her notice. Her hand wraps around your shaft, and as she pulls it up and away from her, you know what question to ask.

"Hmm do you remember, left ball or right ball?"

Jiyoung winks and answers correctly.

"Trick question, both." She let's your shaft rest against her face as she takes one nut and then the other in her mouth, coating it with a generous serving of drool when she licks and sucks them gently. You moan and scoot forward on the sofa, pushing them towards her as you start leaking precum over her face. Jiyoung stops when she feels the sticky substance on her skin, touching it with a finger before shooting you a smirk.

"Already?"

"Not yet, just close, it's been a while," you mutter, hissing as she strokes your throbbing shaft. Jiyoung kisses your tip, a string of precum clinging to her lips as she gets off her knees and walks to her bedroom. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before following her in, but the sight you see before you does not help at all.

Jiyoung's on the bed, the button on her jeans already undone, revealing the simple white panties underneath. Smoothly you tug the jeans off her creamy legs, and as you throw them to the side Jiyoung rests on her arms, biting her bottom lip expectantly, her voluminous hair somehow perfectly styled for bed. Your hand on her panties moves slowly, running along the hem of the underwear, but Jiyoung grabs it and stops you.

"Enough is enough." They are off quickly, and with her legs splayed around your hips, you line yourself up with her and take a deep breath, making sure you don't blow as soon as you enter her.

"Haah..." Jiyoung exhales softly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Lying down, she throws her head back and arches her back, relishing in the sensation of being slowly stuffed, her walls stretching to accommodate you—it really had been a while.

"You good?" Your question brings her back down to bed, and she's met with the feeling of your lips on her neck.

"Wait, don't leave a mark! Just give me a minute, you're big." You throb a little at her admission.

"I need a minute too, you're so tight." She clenches down on you for emphasis. The two of you calm down a little, coming down from the high tension the foreplay had brought you to. You go back to exploring her, running your fingertips over where her clothes were covering earlier. When she is ready Jiyoung wordlessly nips at your earlobe, and with your hands on her waist you start moving. You've underestimated just how much you missed hearing her moan, and the more she sounds her pleasure directly into your ear, the faster and harder you go.

It is perfect for Jiyoung, and she wraps her arms around your neck, burying her face in the side of your head, making sure you hear every note of bliss you pound into her. She's missed this feeling more than she cares to admit, and her entire body takes revenge on depriving herself of you, lighting up her brain with sensitive ecstasy. It doesn't take long for her to tense up again, and this time you drive her right over the edge, her legs wrapping around you and pulling you deep into her as she climaxes.

"Fuck!" The curse is shouted right into your ear, and you hold her still as her slick walls around you go wild with motion, clamping down on you repeatedly. Repeated low moans escape her with every rhythmic grip of your shaft, and it is only when she goes quiet does her pulsing warmth relax her hold over you. She runs her fingers through her hair before beaming up at you, absolutely satisfied with you.

"Your turn again." Jiyoung gets on her front, and she scoots herself right under your slick-covered shaft. Unhesitatingly she takes you into her mouth, and this time it is her hands that are massaging your sack. Her tongue cleans you off quickly, and in the process, she is licking you into a mess, your hands digging into her hair.

"Jiyoung!" She backs off you, a hand wrapping around your spit-coated shaft. Her eyes trained on you, broad strokes of her tongue on your glans and quick pumps along your shaft is enough to get you to blow. The first two spurts spew into her mouth, but then her tongue is on your balls, and you throw your head back as she drains you of your orgasm.

"Fuck..." You look down, and the sight almost gets you hard again—Jiyoung's face is covered in your thick load, staining her hair, covering her forehead. You can't tell if the cum by her lips is leaking out of her mouth, or flowing down from her cheeks.

"Really has been a while, huh?" Jiyoung jokes, a hand on her chin to catch any stray drops. "Tissue please?" A few sheets are ripped out of the holder as you help wipe her clean.

"Damn, sorry, some of it got in your hair."

"I was going to take a shower anyways. You should stay the night, won't you be tired driving back at this time?" Gratefully you accept the offer, and Jiyoung ducks into the bathroom as you gather your clothes. She takes a while, and you end up drifting off to sleep before you are shaken awake by Jiyoung.

"Yah, at least shower before you get in my bed." A bare-faced Jiyoung faces you, her hair wrapped up in a towel. Dressed in a simple t-shirt and shorts, it felt like just another Friday night in her room.

"Huh? Oh yeah, sorry." You stumble into the bathroom, and a few minutes later you stumble back out cleaner than before.

"Guys are lucky, I take longer to wash my hair than you do to wash yourself."

"Cut your hair short like mine and it'll be quick too."

"Pass, anyways I gotta get up early tomorrow, good night!" Jiyoung turns off the light and slips under the sheets, and you take it as a sign to go to bed too. The two of you face away from one another as sleep descends on the room, just like you’ve done many times before. You wake up the next morning to a lonely bed, and when you check a phone a message waits for you.

*You seemed like you were having a good sleep, so I didn't want to wake you, let yourself out whenever, I don't have much in the fridge, sorry!*

You tap on a quick reply before putting on your clothes.

*Thanks for letting me stay over, I'll see you sometime?*

Your phone buzzes as you drive away.

*Mmhmm, I'll let you know when I'm free!*

Sadly, two weeks fly by quickly, and Jiyoung still hasn't gotten in touch with you. Oh well, maybe she's just been too busy. You vaguely wonder about how she's doing, but your texts have gone unanswered until now.

*Hey, can you drive me to the airport tomorrow?*

*Sure, what time?*

*9 am*

*I'll be there around 7 then?*

*Yes, thank you!*

*Great, hope everything went well!*

Jiyoung hesitates before replying—it did go by smoothly, but the more she hung out with her former members, the more she felt isolated.

"Seungyeon unnie do you want to do something tonight?"

"Ah sorry, I made plans already."

"Gyuri unnie?"

"Sorry, I'm meeting my boyfriend later."

"Youngji?"

"Same, sorry unnie!"

“Nicole unnie?”

“I’m too tired, I’ll pass, maybe next time Jiyoung.”

She was homesick when she was in Japan, but now that she's back, the gloomy realization that there is nothing here for her in Korea sets in—she had no real connections beyond her business ties, and sure she had family, but she had no one to spend time with otherwise. Her fellow members had their own priorities now, they weren't stuck together 24/7 like before, and it left her feeling lonelier than ever.

*Yeah, everything went great*

Jiyoung hesitates for a brief moment before sending the next message, but she needed to see someone unrelated to work before she left.

*Can you come over tonight?*

You show up at night, and Jiyoung invites you in. Immediately she offers you a drink, which you readily accept.

"So, ready to go back? Ready to eat good ramen and tonkatsu?"

"I guess..." Jiyoung mulls over her drink, and you misinterpret it.

"What? You like ramyun more? Just bring a box of it back with you, if you need more after I can always send you more later."

"That's not it."

"Then what, Korean snacks? Pepero instead of Pocky? You want Chocoheim?"

“No that’s not the point.”

"It's not food? Drink then? I'm sure you can find some place that sells makgeolli in Japan."

Jiyoung drains her beer and shakes her head.

"Never mind. Sorry, I'm tired, I shouldn't have called you over, can you just drop by tomorrow?" She makes to get up, but with a hand on her wrist you pull her back, and she stumbles into your lap.

"You're not going anywhere, and neither am I until we—Jiyoung?" You pause, lost at Jiyoung's odd expression. Your words resonate with her, that there is something, someone here for her in Korea, and a switch flips inside her.

"Mmph!"

Her hands are already around your neck, and without a further word she pulls you in for a fevered kiss. You're swept along by her sudden burst of passion, and with repeated flicks of her tongue, soon you are dueling in her mouth, trying to tangle yourself with her as you hold her close, losing yourself in her embrace. Your hand drifts to her hips, and Jiyoung pulls your hand further down, urging you to squeeze her ass. Her nails dig into your shirt when you do, and in another oxygen-sucking kiss you've lifted both her and yourself off the couch, carrying her to the bedroom.

As soon as you are at the bed though, Jiyoung pulls you down next to her, fingers already fumbling with your jeans. Off they go, as do your boxers and t-shirt, and immediately she is on top of you, as if scared you would squirm away from her somehow. Her blouse is pulled off, and then her bra, and then she lifts her skirt and simply pulls her underwear to the side.

You only have a moment to gasp at her intense wetness before she's hilting herself on you—you never got straight into it with Jiyoung, usually needing to prep her with teasing touches and tentative thrusts before she was wet enough to even let you in. She's never been this sopping wet before, but the whimper she lets out is evidence of her rashness.

"Ji—!" your concerned gasp is cut off by the sting on your neck, her lips leaving a fierce hickey. Your vision goes dark for a moment, your senses trying to catch up to the overwhelming pressure of her walls clenching around you, and all you can do is hold on to her as she grinds on you slowly. Soft whinnies and light groans are muffled against you as Jiyoung pushes herself to the limit, making her body adjust to your length while she rides you. But her eagerness turns pain to pleasure, and eventually those subdued cries of discomfort turn to husky moans, of a woman fully enjoying her man.

You help her enjoy you further, placing a hand near your connected bodies. Your fingertips brush against her clit, and mindlessly Jiyoung adjusts her riding to make sure you're rubbing her nub. The tempo of her riding quickly goes up another notch after this, and she’s smearing her slick all over you. Soon, with an almighty cry into your neck she climaxes around you, her thighs trembling and squeezing your body before going still, her breathing harsh against your neck. You hold her by her shoulders, and as she rises from nuzzling your neck she brushes her sweaty hair away to catch a breath.

But only one breath, as you needed to cum as well. Swiftly you roll her over on to her back, taking position on top of her. Jiyoung parts her lips, and your pupils dilate as you hear her speak.

"Take me."

It is the first time you've heard her use those words. Gone are the words of simple booty calls like "fuck me" or "do me", now replaced with two words charged with compulsive passion.

Jiyoung wanted you to take her. You were going to have her.

You snarl and nip immediately to her neck, bruising her, marking her like she did to you. Your wrap an arm easily across her lower back, and with a delighted moan you lift her off the mattress, pulling her hips flush against yours. Her head's lolls limply back, slightly bouncing on the bed, but Jiyoung couldn't give less of a damn from the pleasure and sheer joy of the act.

Your sweat pours over her, your bodies sticking together as you continue your feral lovemaking—you aren't so much pounding down on her as you are yanking her up to your cock over and over. Jiyoung is yours to manipulate, and manipulate her you do. Your hand grips her ass tightly, while the other squeezes her bouncing breasts, both sure to leave a mark—just two more to the collection of stamps you leave on her.

Both of you are speechless and thoughtless, fucking and being fucked with raucous and wild abandon. But it was not heartless, and your previously suppressed and buried emotions, unknown and unadmitted to even yourselves, are being excavated and revealed with every thrust into her, and all the two of you knew to do was to “dig”, deeper and deeper. 

"Guh..." A wordless grunt and groan escapes her as your tip brushes against the entrance to her womb, a bolt of pleasure straight up her spine. A single strike is almost too much for her, but you keep going, determined to leave your mark on every inch of Jiyoung, inside and out. Over and over you kiss both her lips and her cervix, each earning a guttural rasp from her until the feral turns primal.

With what strength she has left Jiyoung makes you crash on top of her, pulling you as deep as you can into her. The resulting cry of your name leaving her lips is utterly intoxicating, and you unravel as she wraps her legs around you.

"Mine!" you growl and empty every drop you have in her, fully intending to consummate whatever this night becomes. Jiyoung extends your peak, her warmth pulling in more of your seed into her, every addictive moan of your name driving one more tired pump of your hips, chasing that one more jolt of intimate bliss. Her touch is soft on your face, and when you look at her, makeup smeared with tears and drool, she never looked more beautiful. You kiss her, again and again.

Yet as the two of you finally disconnect, the haze lifts from the two of you, far too coldly, far too harshly. When your pupils return to their usual size, so does reality, in the form of the sizable puddle between Jiyoung's legs.

"Jiyoung I—shit, sorry, let me—" Sniffling and stumbling, Jiyoung waves you off, staggering to the bathroom to clean up, her thighs a shining mess. Dumbstruck, you simply clean her sheets best you can as you hear her run the shower. When she exits she is almost distant, as if the two of you just had another quickie instead of the most emotional sex of your lives.

"Your turn, I'll change the sheets out." Mutely you nod, running cold water over your face as you try to process the million thoughts in your head. When you exit, you are still just as wrong-footed, and your thoughts are closer to the fogged up mirrors in her bathroom than the transparent glass of water awaiting you.

"You should drink," Jiyoung gestures to the water.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Just stay the night, you can drive me from here tomorrow."

"Sure, are you... okay?"

"Yes, today's a safe day." That's not what you meant to ask, but she leaves no further room for conversation, turning the light off and facing away from you, putting up a barrier that seemed impenetrable. Why is she suddenly putting up a defense against you?

Befuddled, exhausted, and drained, you turn the other way, falling into a confused slumber. In your deep sleep you don't hear the rustle of the sheets as she scoots towards you. Nor do you feel her arms around you waist, or her warmth against your back as she spoons you through the night.

You wake up the next day to a gentle shake.

"Hey, I have to go to the airport soon, should I call a taxi instead?"

"No no, I said I was going to drive you, just let me splash some water on my face."

The drive to the airport is deafeningly silent, there were so many questions you wanted to ask, but Jiyoung is in no mood to answer, putting in her earbuds and closing her eyes. Thankfully there is no media swarm this time, and with little fanfare you help her check in and walk her to immigration.

"Thanks for driving me over."

"Of course." You pause for a moment, then follow it up with a simple, non-threatening question. "When will you be back?"

"I don't know, I might comeback for some of the promotions, but that's up in the air."

"Okay, can you let me know if you're back? I think we should talk then." Or right now, you almost added.

"Since when did you get so clingy?" Jiyoung teases, but her attempt to lighten the mood falls on your serious expression, and she follows up softly. "I will, I'll let you know."

"Great! So umm, goodbye for now I guess, have a good flight." You make to pull her in for a hug, but Jiyoung resists you, more aware than you are of potential paparazzi. Stay, don't go! you shout in your mind, settling for a friendly pat on the arm instead.

"Thanks, I'll see you soon." Ask me to stay, and I will! Jiyoung’s hand covers yours, running a thumb against your palm, as if she wanted to remember your touch. She yearned for you to make a move—she would cancel her ticket on the spot if you wanted her to stay, if she wasn't afraid of her own feelings, afraid of the magic of last night, afraid of the near impossibility of it happening again if she leaves now. 

Sadly, you are just as afraid as she is, and all you do is wave impotently as she passes into immigration. Neither of you see the bittersweet smile of the other, divided by a pane of frosted glass, thickened by cowardice.

"Miss? Are you okay?" The immigration officer curiously asks as they look up from Jiyoung's passport.

"Oh, yes, sorry." Hastily she wipes the stray tear from her face and hardens her expression.

"Just had to say goodbye to a loved— someone I'll miss very much."

A/N: KARA comeback let’s go! Not really in the public eye in Korea anymore, and she’s more active in Japan nowadays, but I don’t care lol, she’s absolutely stunning. Tried something a little less fluffy this time, no happy ending, but I think I like happy endings more in general. Thanks for reading!

[jessicalprice]

Gus

So to understand Gus’s role in my household, you have to understand my other cats. 

This is Lucy:

She was a tiny little shelter kitty when I adopted her, and it very quickly became apparent (this was in the before times, when I went to an office every day) that she could not be an only cat, because she was deeply sad and anxious being left home alone all day.

So I adopted a kitty she had been fostered with, who’d been kind of the big sister to the other foster kitties. Molly was very maternal, and helped my small orange fluffhead with navigating life.

Molly died from cancer when Lucy was 9. 

Lucy was pretty distraught. She stopped eating and spent her time wandering the apartment, searching and calling for Molly.

So I decided she needed a little brother (I wasn’t going to try to replace her big sister). A big, sweet, silly teddy bear of a little brother who’d keep her busy. Up until that point, I’d assumed all my kitties for the rest of my life would be shelter cats, but in this case I needed a pretty specific temperament, so I went to a Maine Coon breeder who focused primarily on temperament rather than size or coat patterns. 

And that was how I got Max. 

Lucy was very “thanks, I hate it,” at first, but she was annoyed, and annoyed is better than grieving yourself to death. And she comforted him when he would get scared the same way Molly had comforted her, and heaved a lot of big resigned sighs, and let him cuddle with her as long as he bathed first. 

So just as we were going into pandemic lockdown, I moved in with a dear friend, into her tiny rental house with a beautiful fenced in backyard and her two dogs and her cat. 

Lucy pretended to hate it (although she adored my friend), but Max was the happiest he had ever been, and probably the happiest he will ever be. He had a giant dog bro-friend, and my friend’s kitty was the cool older girl he had a little-boy crush on, and her elderly chihuahua was the matriarch of the household whose approval he desperately wanted but whose food he felt compelled to steal. He had a safe little Eden to explore with his friends. And he had two moms!

It was a pretty great year and a half for both of us, but I think I can safely say that it was absolute bliss for Max. 

And then I bought a house and we moved out. 

And Max spent several weeks in my closet, with his face to the wall, all day. He’d come down at night and eat, but he was obviously, manifestly depressed and grieving the loss of all his friends.

And then my housemates moved in, with their 18-month old boy kitty, and Max came out of his closet and was pretty happy again. They weren’t intending to stay long, though.

I knew Lucy and I weren’t enough for him. His ideal world is probably a commune with like at least 5 or 6 other people and 20 dogs and a whole bunch of cats (he LOVED fostering kittens when we were living with my friend) and probably some chickens and goats and maybe a pony. He has a lot of love in him and it’s more than Lucy, who’s a senior kitty, and I can satisfy.

When he’s lonely, he starts bothering Lucy a lot to play with him or cuddle him when she wants to sleep.

So I adopted Gus, Max’s cousin, who was about 18 months younger than Max. 

The thing I didn’t know when I arranged to adopt him was that during the pandemic, the breeder sold a lot fewer cats than usual, so she ended up with a house full of Maine Coons. She admitted to me that she didn’t have time to pay as much attention to the older kittens because she was focusing on the younger ones.

Gus’s siblings had all been adopted, so he was the only one left from his litter.

And it became apparent that he had been DESPERATE to be adopted, or at least to have SOMEONE pay attention to him.

Picture the little boy at the orphanage carefully making sure he is perfectly dressed every day and talking to himself in the mirror all gosh darnit, you are smart and you are handsome and you are HIGHLY ADOPTABLE and today is going to be the day. 

He had the most profound Polite Little Chap energy you’ve ever seen.

He was perfectly behaved for the entire five-hour drive back from the breeder’s, and then I put him in the guest room and gave him an hour to get used to the room and decompress, then went in there. 

Video here.

He was not sure if this was for real, or forever, but he was determined to make a good impression and not put a foot wrong and prove he was HIGHLY ADOPTABLE gosh darnit. 

Is this string for me? Do you want to play? Let me show you how good I am at playing! I can play very dramatically but will never, ever claw you! May I touch you? May I rest my head on your knee? Is this okay? May I headbutt you? 

He was so desperate to prove he was a Good Boy and I kept trying to communicate to him that he didn’t have to prove anything, I had already adopted him. 

If I looked at him, like at all, he would start treading the floor and purring.

I had planned to give him 3-5 days of adjustment time in the guest room, and in the house when Lucy and Max were locked up, before introducing him to Max, but Max was being all MAX WILL LITERALLY DIE IF HE DOESN’T GET TO MEET THE BABY and Gus was purring and headbutting the door, so I let them meet on Day 2. 

There were maybe 20 seconds of hissing and then they were best friends.

Growing up with like 30 other Maine Coons had given Gus pretty exquisite cat social skills, so he won cranky, suspicious Lucy over with shocking quickness.

He decided his goal in life was to be everyone and everything’s support animal, including machines like the dishwasher. Sometimes it makes a squeaking noise when it changes cycles and he always goes running over and puts a paw on it and makes encouraging chirps, like you’ve got this, friend, you can do it!

Anyway, the moral of this story is that every other cat I have acquired has, in some way, been for the benefit of Lucy and I hope she appreciates that. 

[dongzhou3kingdoms]

This was something I was writing up for a 3kdiscord but about Japan (premise being why bother learning if you can be told you are wrong) but was too long so turning it into tumblr post and sending link there

Why bother learning anything:

So in life, most people will learn things as they go along. Even those who claim they are too old to learn and thus create a burden on others. Most of the time people won't notice they are doing this. 

As language changes around them, they will stop using words and add new ones. Tech will bring in new words in itself, but also learning how to install and handle them. How to shop and what to look out for while doing so changes. Laws change (and the justice system might not be too sympathetic to “well the speed limit was such and such when I left university”), social attitudes change, food changes, and medicine changes. Think of the way climate change is already making you change your life in what you eat, the clothes you wear, and what things you do. 

If you pick up a video game series several instalments after the last one you played, some things of the game will be the same, and you will perhaps feel some warm similarities. But trying the same old tactics will fail you because the game has moved on and brought new things. So you adapt to the new features, you change the way you play.

If you were once fluent in a foreign language at school, and then didn't use it for ten years, you are likely to end up wrong on some things. Because your brain won't recall everything correctly (the brain needs to be refreshed), you are human and so will make mistakes. But also that the language will have changed since, so you won't know certain new words, which ones are now antiquated, or the ways things are phrased have changed. If you work in certain professions and don't learn, to keep up with the latest methods and technological changes, it will kill your career eventually as you become a dinosaur. 

This didn't make your education unhelpful (unless someone taught you something massively wrong, as does happen) but it means your education provides you a platform to keep learning and adapting as life changes. It provides you with a platform to deal with life's curveballs (like a pandemic) and to keep learning so you can deal with the changing world of humanity, tech and so on. Having learned a language, you still have building blocks to relearn it.

The creation of New Maths didn't suddenly mean the old way was not of great use to the world, the people couldn't use it to add, subtract, to make the sums work. Every time science advances and can reject a long-standing theory for something better based on new knowledge doesn't mean the science you learnt to understand the world better was useless. Just means that people, with passion and dedication, used those building blocks to advance our understanding of the world and that is a good thing.

To not learn is to deny yourself fun and will bite hard. Not changing when the law changes could see you in trouble. Refusing to adapt to the changing world can make life more lonely, more expensive, and less fun. It will also cut you off from being good at anything educational.

Being wrong

Nobody loves being told they are wrong. It also happens to historians. Aaron has mentioned Turnbull correcting his work, Rafe De Crespigny when updating his seminal work Generals of the South corrected himself because he realized he was wrong on the marriage of Sun Jian and Lady Wu after being corrected by others. Reviewers (in this case, one by Andrew Chittick) and other papers can call out another historian's work for errors. Publicly and not always kindly. 

Most here as amateurs will have read a work and realized we had got something wrong or, in forum discussions, been told we were wrong. Or conversely, read a professional make an error. It happens. Take the moment, use the new knowledge, work out what had gone wrong and build upon it. Yes, I have been wrong many times before, I learned novel backlash and then had to unlearn it, and I am better for it.

Unless your entire life involves not doing something, you will get things wrong. A social fumble, missing that leap in a video game and plummeting to death, managing to miss something obvious, spelling errors. If you put something out there in public, you are likely to put an error somewhere and have it pointed out.

This is fine. Not fun in the moment but fine. If playing a sport, do you not want a coach or a friend to give you a tip on how to improve or work on a weakness? To do better involves making mistakes, learning from them (via others) and practising. You do things again and again, becoming better via practice and learning new ways of doing it.

You are new at something: you are going to make mistakes. You aren't suddenly going to have a full understanding but build understanding over time, including learning from your mistakes. People make mistakes and if with good intent, more experienced people will be sympathetic and remember their own, the frustration becomes when someone doubles down on the error. 

There is very little in life where you can't make errors, or at least never have them discovered. It would have to be something very single-focused (single-player video games, watching TV/movies). Then never discuss them with anyone so you won't end up discovering a mistake of your own.

History

Forgive me, but my knowledge of Japanese history is about zilch, so I'll go with what I am familiar with as examples.

I think that if the answer to learning about the three kingdoms was “read the entirety of the records of the three kingdoms, and you are done”, it would be easier. Historians could just translate then move on to the next era, and we all be done. But also boring, it would be fun the first time but being able to recite like a parrot isn't intellectually stimulating.

It would also be awful advice. Knowing the records provides a useful platform, but it is only part of the piece. The records themselves, being made by humans, are imperfect and only a piece of the puzzle. All primary sources have the problem of dishonest, blinkered humans who (even if writing under a vow of absolute truth) are one-eyed and only able to see things from their perspective. 

Other sources need to be read to paint a fuller picture. Then you have histography: learning about the sources, their strengths, weaknesses, reliability, and biases. Learning how to interpret, how to deal with contradictory evidence. Other areas need to be explored, people look at architecture, philosophy, medicine, mysticism, how battles were fought, economics and so much more. I am pretty decent in some aspects, weak in others, people will find different strengths and interests within history. 

There is often so much more to explore to try to build more pieces of the puzzle. During this people will make mistakes. Taking something as truthful when more scepticism was needed. Finding out as they explore a new path that they need to rethink their old attitudes or past ideas.

Also, history changes. It would be a rather boring profession if, over centuries, it had stayed the same. It would be intellectually lazy if at no point historians went "Wait, are we looking at this wrong?" The way history is studied and written is different now than when the primary sources were written. The way history is understood has changed. People build on the ideas from the past but also challenge them with new perspectives. By reassessing and relooking at what we know rather than relying on ideas of the past, a better understanding of the past and our own lives can be built. 

Sometimes the challenge is new evidence emerges. Aaron has given an arcological one, records say one thing, but the soil suggests another and that means a fresh look is needed. Sometimes something dug up or found won't provide that sort of challenge but will provide more pieces of the puzzle to get a wider sense of something.

With history being a puzzle and where we have partial pieces of varying reliability, historians will come up with ideas, and new perspectives. Once history was built around the idea of a great man forging the world, now we point to wider factors and the surrounding support. How much do we take into account oral records? In 3kingdoms history, one of the big changes one is seeing is the push towards recognizing regional identities, culture, and ambitions rather than just seeing it from a northern all-China perspective that long dominated the way people thought about the era.

Furthermore, a human being reading history is not a blank slate. Most humans had some sort of education in history, perhaps seen a documentary or two, and picked up “fun facts”. The era they choose to study will likely be from something that caught their interest. It could be a part of their national history, it could be a TV show, a film, a manga or a game (Dynasty Warriors for me). 

Now, people are sensible enough to know pop culture isn't historically accurate. But that doesn't mean it won't influence them, how they think people lived, what they did and said, how battles were fought. If films keep telling you that medieval times were drab and dreary, it seems realistic versus a more colourful version which would be more accurate. People's ideas of realism can get confused with accuracy. Cao Cao being calm and willingness to sacrifice his reputation has the quality of realism but it is not accurate, Zuo Ci's casting magic gets dismissed but is historically accurate

Often at the start, one is helping unpick certain ideas or concepts they played/watched/found on the internet and questions on places like AskHistorians are often influenced by some idea of history that is wrong. Novel backlash is a major 3kingdom problem, game portrayals of characters (Cao Cao and Liu Bei particularly), the way people think of magic, the Nanman, and the “did what had to be done” issue.

Unpicking that is part of learning history. Of why people think that, of learning how to move on from such ideas. Yes, it does mean facing up to being wrong, having the way one thinks challenged and changed, picking up new better practices and improving. Then passing it down the line. Someone who reads the novel or comes to it the history from a game will initially read the records from the perspective of what they have picked up in the past rather then from fresh new eyes. Learning to deal with such influences is part of improving oneself and that includes going "well I was wrong about this" or "I mishandled the gaps between historical and novel persona".

Why is it Fun

So there was a discussion a few weeks ago about contrarians. The idea proposed they should be welcomed is their challenge to people's logic, exploring ideas and providing intellectual growth and stimulation, of being like a puzzle. The problem with contrarians is they don't provide that, and it serves no purpose other than as a time-suck.

History does provide that stimulation, that growth and the furthering of people's logic, it is like a puzzle. You are learning about the past, about people, about society, furthering your understanding of humanity. Learning how to research, how to analyse what you are being told, how to combine different information, how to see things through different perspectives, how to deal with bias, how to make arguments. Having your perspective challenged and widened via new arguments and new information. 

All with a purpose. With each biography you read, with each article and discussion, chances are you are learning something. When hanging around with fellow history lovers, you have a chance to share a passion as well as knowledge. Sometimes that includes finding out you're wrong but that is part of learning in most things.

All while reading of big petulant personalities, love, jokes, big battles, decisions of state and decisions of more personal natures. History can be about anything, the buildings we create, what people wore, and what they believed. Whatever catches your eye and draws you in, inspires you to want to learn more. Humanity is a complex thing, capable of wonder and horror, of big ideas and immense stupidity, hate and love, of creation and destruction. Reading about them, their world and what shapes them is educational and entertaining. 

Change happens because humanity changes, it learns, and it can try to do better. Change helps us increase our understanding of the past and that requires the humility to be open to new ideas, to be open to that we can be wrong and have the flexibility to change. It is a good thing that history evolves, it leaves us with more to explore, and helps us better prepare for life while we also seek to expand our understanding. To have the flexibility to take that we were wrong and to learn from it is not an unuseful skill to have in life.

However, it isn't just history. Maybe history and the past leaves one cold. That is fair enough and maybe your passion is numbers, maybe it is coaching a sports team, maybe it is the literary arts, maybe it is how the world works or a whole host of things. But with intelligent people also enjoying those, they will adapt and change it over time so you will have to be prepared, whatever catches your passions, to be prepared to make errors as you learn, to be willing and adapt to the change. Not to bemoan that things you learn change but to embrace it.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

love in the time of covid: prologue

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

chapter rating: M — Frankie’s POV, separations, angsty!frankie, mentions of a past substance abuse issue, covid (this chapter holds no explicit scenes but this entire series is 18+ only due to the amount of smut that will occur)

word count: 1.8k

series masterlist

Frankie had only moved into his apartment a week ago. His boxes were only half-unpacked, his furniture consisting of a well-loved sofa he’d taken off of Santi’s hands. During the move, the pandemic had reached its height, but he was forced to continue with it—having been newly separated from his fiancé. Ex-fiancé. He needed to get that drilled into his head.

Even before he left to Colombia with the boys, things were already practically over between them, neither of them wanting to actually say the words given their new addition—his baby girl, Alondra. They’d hoped their mutual adoration for the infant would save them, would carry them through a lifetime of lukewarm feelings for each other. But, of course, that wasn’t the case.

His things were packed up neatly in boxes and luggage the minute he arrived home from their trip to Colombia, Frankie’s heart dropping at the sight when he set his keys down in the bowl by the front door. His boots were loud in the painfully quiet suburban home, fingers twiddling against his thighs as he walked up the stairs in hopes of finding his fiancé and daughter.

“Oh,” she gasped when she saw him standing in the doorway of their master bedroom, Alondra laying on their bed while she packed up the last bit of Frankie’s wardrobe into a duffel bag. “I-I didn’t know you were going to be home today. Uh,”

They both looked around at the scene, Frankie’s lips parted but nothing coming out.

“This has been a long time coming, Frankie.” She finally sighed and shrugged, looking exhausted. “I think we’re both ready to move on from this constant state of limbo…walking on eggshells for Alondra’s sake. She deserves to see us happy as she grows up.”

“I take that to mean you’ve met someone else,” he chuckled and looked down at his boot, struck by the sudden collapse of his family, but not as hurt by his fiancé’s infidelity as he thought he would’ve been.

“He’s a single dad. His son goes to Alondra’s day care, and we, uh, just got to talking one day.” She frowned a bit as she watched him avoid her eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, Frankie.”

“No, it’s fine.” He lifted his eyes and brushed off his hurt, shrugging. “Long as you’re happy. And as long as I still get to see my daughter.”

“Of course! No, yeah. We’re not…Alondra’s not going anywhere. You may not be the man for me, but you are the man for her. You’re her dad.” That almost did it—almost made him break—but he swallowed it down, nodding as he walked over to his eight-month-old and picking her up. He kissed her cheek and lingered there for a moment, knowing that these moments would now be split up 50/50.

“Alright, baby. Daddy, uh, daddy will see you soon.” He kissed her again and set her back down, biting his cheek as he watched her smile up at him.

“Where will you go?”

“Santi’s. We’ll, uh, we’ll come by this week to get everything.” Frankie scratched his neck and grabbed the duffel she’d just packed for him, his footsteps heavy as he jogged down the stairs, grabbing the few bags he could carry along with the one he’d just brought back with him from his trip and leaving without another word.

One long month later, and here he was, sat in his lonely and mildly pathetic studio apartment—sick with the Coronavirus.

“I’m supposed to stay quarantined for how long?” He sat on the phone with the clinic he went to go take the test at, the doctor informing him that at least two weeks quarantine was recommended, and then he should come in and get a test to be positive he was Covid-free. “Right. Great. Okay, thank you.”

He hung up the phone and sank back into the couch, his body shaking with a chill even in the early summer heat, his bones aching even more than they usually did. He didn’t have a cough or lose his sense of taste and smell, thankfully. But he definitely wasn’t feeling good.

The worst part about this whole quarantine would be missing two weekends of his time with Alondra, time that had become his saving grace during this separation. His daughter reminded him that he had a reason to go on with his sobriety—or to just go on at all. And now that she wasn’t here…

Knock, knock.

His eyes narrowed at the door, wondering who could possibly be knocking on his door when only two people knew where he’d moved to. He stood up with a groan, body sore and so fucking cold. Pressing his eye to the peephole, he saw that it wasn’t Santi or his ex standing on the other side but a young—dare he say attractive—woman carrying a bag of what looked to be take out.

“Yes?” He called out from inside the apartment, not wanting to risk infecting an innocent stranger who probably had the wrong address.

“Hi, sorry. I’m delivering an order, would you like me to just leave it at the door?” He narrowed his eyes. He didn’t order anything.

“I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong apartment.”

“Uh, Frankie Morales—apartment 507?” He watched as she read the ticket, deciding to crack the door a bit. She took a step back out of precaution as he held his hand up. One second later, he came back with a face mask on, opening the door a bit more. “Oh, are you…do you have the virus?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and gestured for you to stay put. “That’s, uh, that’s my name, but I didn’t order anything, I don’t know that I should take it.”

Just after speaking, his phone started to buzz in his pocket, signaling an incoming text. He opened it and nodded as he read that Santi had very kindly sent him over some food, chuckling as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. “My friend ordered it for me, I guess. Sorry about all this fuss.”

“Oh, no. You’d be surprised how often this happens. Especially now with the virus going around.” She chuckled and it made him feel lighter, but perhaps that could’ve been the fever. “Well, I’ll leave it right over here for ya. And be sure to tell your girlfriend to leave me a good review on the app.”

“Oh, no. Not a girlfriend. A boy friend. A man friend. Sorry, it’s a friend who is a man. I’m straight—well, mostly straight. Nobody’s really fully straight, right?” He chuckled at his case of verbal diarrhea and scratched his neck, watching as she chuckled and nodded. “What’s, uh, whats your name? Just so I can be sure that we give a five star to the right person.”

She told him her name and he grinned underneath his mask, nodding at her.

“Well, Frankie Morales, I hope you feel better soon.” She smiled at him as she stepped away and down the stairs of his apartment, her eyes catching his over her shoulder before she disappeared from his sight. Picking up the food, he stepped back inside his studio with a smitten grin, pulling his phone out to call up his best friend.

“Did you get the food?” Santi picked up and started speaking over the sound of music playing in the background.

“Yeah,” Frankie sat down on his couch and sandwiched the phone between his ear and shoulder as he opened up the bag. “Are you having a fucking fiesta over there or what?”

“Yeah, the boys are all here. We felt bad that you’re all alone in that apartment so we sent over some tacos. Figured you already had the beer covered.” Frankie chuckled and looked over at the half-drunken bottle of beer on his coffee table.

“Hey, uh, the girl who delivered my food wanted me to tell you to give her a five star rating.” Frankie felt a blush appear on his face as he thought about her smile, shocked that he could still manage to feel so smitten at his age and after what he’s gone through in the romance department.

“Oh, Frankie’s got a crush on the delivery girl, huh?” Santi teased, Will and Benny making a commotion in the background. “She cute?”

“Yeah, she’s cute. Wish I got her number, but it’s hard to flirt when you’re infected and quarantined. Not really a hot selling point.” He picked up one of the carne asada tacos and lifted it to his mouth, nodding in appreciation at the taste. “What, uh, what app did you use to order this? Just, uh…you know. In case I got hungry.”

“Yeah, hungry alright.” Santi teased again before breaking down and giving him the app and restaurant info. “You know you don’t get to choose who delivers your food right? It’s all based on who picks up the order on their end—“

“Let the guy be a hopeless romantic.” Frankie rolled his eyes and chuckled at the sound of Will stealing the phone from Santi. “I say you go for it, man. You’ve been in a dry streak for how long now?”

“Too long.” Frankie sighed as he tried to remember the last time he’d had sex. Was it really the night of Alondra’s conception?

“See, go for it. You’ve only got two more weeks of isolation and then you’re free to stalk whatever delivery girl you want.”

“Okay, okay, let’s not use that word. No stalking is happening here, just…hopeful ordering.” He looked at the ticket on the bag, nearly choking on his food as he swallowed it. “And my savings account dwindling, apparently.”

Though he knew it was a frivolous way to spend his money, he also knew that for the first time in a very long time, he had a spark of hope—hope that maybe he wouldn’t spend the rest of his life alone. Hope that maybe he could also find happiness and show his daughter what it looked like when her father was in love, much like her mother had found.

So, with nothing much to lose besides cash, he decided that everyday of this quarantine, he’d treat himself to some form of takeout until he got his delivery girl again. And then, he’d just have to figure out how to ask for her phone number without puking out of anxiety.

Simple enough.

•••

taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @oceandolores @mandomover @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @vanemando15 @wickedmunson @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @jalobro @trickstersp8 @mccn-bcys @manuymesut @trinkets01 @tanzthompson @jlmaddinson @hopeamarsu (please let me know if you’d like to be removed/added to future frankie content!)

[boy-gender]

It’s the 3 year anniversary of my top surgery this month!! During pride month even!!

I wanted to I guess just talk about what happened to me? Give a story about a top surgery from start to finish for people looking to pursue top surgery to learn from? It’s gonna be long so, under the cut.

So I got top surgery in june 2020, right smack dab in the early-middle of the pandemic lockdowns. Nobody was allowed to be with me in the hospital or even visit me, and I couldn’t have my cellphone. The night before my fiance slept over to keep me calm, and also we had to leave at 4am because I was going to be the very first surgery of the day. I have cats, and he got a cat hair in his eye causing a massive allergic reaction. We had to extract it but his eye was so messed up that day he couldn’t drive, so I ended up taking him home and my mother in law brought me to the hospital. It was pretty lonely not being able to have him with me or communicate with anyone, and I was terrified I would get covid just from being in the hospital, but luckily I didn’t.

I showed up, checked in, and got situated in a prep area pretty quickly. They tell you to take your underwear off because sometimes people piss themselves while under anaesthesia, which I didn’t know and was horrified by the thought of. Sure you can go play around in my chest cavity but if I peed? I would have flatlined of embarassment on the table. At the end they don’t tell you if you peed or shit yourself or anything so at least if I did I will never have to know about it. In the prep area my surgeon drew on me with a marker to show what was getting taken away and what was going where. I was having a bilateral mastectomy with liposuction on the sides to remove sideboob, and I didn’t want my nipples back, which made her job easier. Within an hour they wheeled me in, told me to count back from 10, someone said goodnight to me and then I was gone.

Several hours later I woke up crying and sweating and insanely hot. I could barely speak, and a nurse was yelling at me because I wouldn’t stay awake. Apparently I had woken up and gone back to sleep several times, but I don’t remember any of that. I must have been able to communicate that I was hot because someone was feeding me ice cubes, but they wouldn’t take the blankets off me and I couldn’t move to push them away. I felt like a helpless child. It was awful. Powerful drugs, man.

My surgeon came in 10 minutes later to check on me after she finished cleaning up, saw how miserable I was, ripped the blanket off me, and yelled at the nurses for not listening to me. It was the first time a doctor had ever taken my side in something and defended me. I will always be eternally grateful for that. They transferred me to a bed, told me not to move around too much because of my drains, and gave me a landline to call home. It was somehow the afternoon, and I think I passed out again.

When I woke up it was evening and they said they were going to keep me over night because I had experienced some sleep apnea under anesthesia- it’s where you briefly stop breathing in your sleep and then start again/irregular breathing. They wanted to make sure if it happened again that they were right there, and also that I would stay on the oxygen tube in my nose. They also gave me this breathalyzer thing that you breathe into and it measures how much breath you breathe. They had me play with it every hour or so to help regain the strength in my lungs.

They (the nurses) also, expressly against my wishes, gave me opioids. I have violent moodswings on heavy painkillers (I got oxy for my wisdom teeth extraction...that was a nightmare). I warned them of this, I said I only wanted tylenol and I would deal with the pain (I wasn’t in any pain, I was just tired). They gave it to me anyways and lo and behold I had violently suicidal moodswings. Thank fuck I was bedbound and couldn’t move. I called my fiance repeatedly throughout the night rapidly shuffling between suicidal and manic. In the off time I was stuck watching 90 day fiancee. It was the only tv channel available.

The next morning I ignored most of the advice they gave me, getting up to go to the bathroom on my own and walking around the hospital floor just to show them that I could. They weren’t going to let me leave until I peed and could ambulate on me own, so as soon as I was awake I did laps just to get them to discharge me. My surgeon okayed it, though I think she was surprised and concerned at the voracity with which I wanted to leave. I didn’t want to stay and have them drug me again.

I went home- it was a Wednesday- and my poor fiance was such a trooper. He picked me up in a car full of stuffed animals for me to cuddle and took me back to my parents house, got me settled, got me a smoothie from mcdonalds. I think we scared the person at the drive thru because I was a haggard corpse in bandages with suction cups of bodily fluids hanging at my sides. Oh well. That week my fiance had started a new job two hours away from our homes and had to commute back and forth, leaving early as fuck to go to work and then coming back to take care of me at night. He moved into our new apartment that Saturday without me (I couldn’t be transported) and with the help of our dear friends. That week sucked.

During the day my mom helped me. Made me food, got me drinks, helped me change my drains, helped me clean myself. I’m lucky we have a bath tub- I was able to sit in a few inches of water and very carefully wash myself without getting my bandages wet. I have autism; my two most prominent symptoms are that I can’t regulate my temperature and always run too hot, and I cannot stand the texture of sweat, being sweaty, or being hot. I constantly have to wash my face and hands like a little raccoon or I go nuts. I would not have survived going a week without showering in some form.

The drains were weird but not painful- you can’t feel them inside you. Everything is so swollen and nerve-damaged you don’t really feel much initially. You have to sleep on your back sitting up though, which sucks for us side sleepers. Invest in a neck pillow is my advice. I slept in my recliner/rocking chair.

I pushed to have my drains removed early, and after a week they were out. While at the appointment I touched a cactus in the lobby and got needles stuck inside me, which my surgeon delightedly told me “nobody has ever been stupid enough to do before.” She enjoyed it. My finger hurt lmao. She took the drains out and I was afraid I’d feel them moving under my skin but I didn’t- all I felt was a gush of warm liquid, like my armpit had pissed itself. Turns out one of my drains was clogged and that was my fluid shooting out all over me, the chair, and my doctor. She said it happens. Unlike patients touching the cactus.

After that I had no more follow up appointments and was on my own. You aren’t supposed to lift your arms over your head or carry heavy things for several weeks, but I ignored that after the two week or so mark. I don’t care about having stretched scars- I have so many scars over my body it doesn’t make a difference. Then I moved to the new apartment with my fiance, healed for a few months, endured the lightning strike shooting pains of my nerves reattaching for the first half year, and found to my amusement that I could still “feel” my nipples but that the spot that felt like nipple would move around from day to day as my nerves misfired. This is still true and still funny to me.

And that’s pretty much it. I had no complications, though because of the lipo and no nipples my scars are large and unusual and almost bisect my torso. My plans are to continue strengthening my chest wall and get the whole thing tattooed, which is why I didn’t want nipples again. They’re in the way of the tattoo design. It’s gonna be a vampire castle with bats flying out in front of a full moon, and a spooky forest below the cliffs.

[feralboo-the-weirdo]

oh how I long for someone, anyone, to confide in.

I forgot how lonely I was until I sat in my room in the dark, alone, wishing there was a shoulder to cry on beyond my own.

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

Hey sea! Can you please give me the interpretations on each song from FITF?

Hi there!

I was looking at the FITF tracklist again, and something struck me that other people have mentioned but which didn’t really crystallize in my mind before. But this post made me realize that something really snapped in Louis’ mind during the pandemic.

In Louis’ Alt Press interview, he said, “I wondered if this was going to be my narrative for the rest of my life, where I'm just constantly frustrated that life wasn't dealing me the hand that I wanted.”

Louis talked about a few factors motivating him, and once he got started with writing Faith In The Future, things went really quickly. He got most of the songs done within 3-4 months of writing. The factors were:

1. Being able to sell 160k livestream tickets: he realized that he could “do this at a high fucking level.”

2. The influence of John Frusciante and Red Hot Chili Peppers, whose Live at Slane Castle documentary Louis watched FIVE times. Frusciante had left RHCP during a period of personal struggle, only to return to the band while making solo albums over 32 years. 5x is an obsession.

3. Moving away from the heavy, confessional balladry of Walls toward the lighter, more dynamic stage-driven Faith In The Future. Louis not only felt that he could do it (“Self-doubt, worry and a lack of confidence have, at times, plagued Tomlinson”), but that he DESERVES it. Louis feels his worth. The boosted confidence injects wry humor into much of FITF: despite the heavy themes, the album is ticklish with laughter.

So, just keeping this in mind, I realized that the songs on FITF generally had a theme of Louis’ saying, “You can’t have me anymore.”

In Walls, Louis was writing about going through a breakup, feeling forlorn and lonely (Only The Brave), wishing for reconciliation (Always You) and begging for love (Defenceless). Being alone was something he was afraid of, something that made him feel darkness and insecurity. Even when Louis was reconciled to being alone and trying to be brave about it (Walls, Fearless, Copy of a Copy of a Copy), there was still a feeling that he was responsible. Maybe he was not worthy of love. He woke alone with the same “problems under the sheets.” He had been Too Young. He was addicted to a Habit that had long ago stopped giving him happiness. Louis’ reaction to the pain: Kill My Mind.

In a way, he was working through the stages of grief (many types), but hadn’t really made it through depression.

In FITF, Louis’ attitude has flipped a switch. He is no longer scared or insecure. Louis has become aware that he’s amongst The Greatest. He knows that his journey is worthwhile; he can build his life for his own happiness, and he will no longer beg ex-lovers or any lovers. Whoever wants to come along with him is Lucky to be on this trip. There’s a feeling of light, wind, openness, amplitude, a hope for Paradise, the relief that he can look at any thoughts of suicide in the rearview mirror with gratitude for having survived, a grace and delicacy to his spirit, a distancing from personal anguish. On this album, Louis is nonchalant, effortlessly cool, calm, mature, sexy. It’s what makes him irresistible in every recent photo, and what gives his Instagram selfies an elegant, feline quality. Louis has defined success and peace on his terms, and love seems both sadder but also more attainable, calmer, warmer, because Louis loves himself more.

For Louis’ Track By Track explanations, you can read them here. These are my interpretations.

The Greatest: I’m never going to be in the cold again. We will never see the setbacks we saw in the past. No one will make us disappear again.

Written All Over Your Face: these petty fights are stupid. Whenever you feel like it, you can find me on the other side waiting. And by the way, both your anger and your desire for me are written on your face.

Bigger Than Me: I needed a bigger perspective. Time gave me a chance to rethink.

Lucky Again: there’s no use wishing things were different. Fate has other plans for me. I’m worthy of love; I will find it again.

Face The Music: forget consequences and anxiety. Live in the moment. Your instinct will tell you what’s right.

Chicago: our breakup hurt me incredibly deeply. No matter how much time has passed, it feels just like yesterday. But I learned from it, and I can rise above it.

All This Time: no matter how hard I try, part of me will never be “normal.” But what stays won’t be reminders of the pain of trying to fit in. It will be the love. Pleasure is pain. But pain is a lesson, hard won.

Out Of My System: A wall is a wall but sometimes it feels fucking good to smash it down.

Headline: you thought you could judge me and pin me like an insect, but you were wrong. We could have had a love like a poem; instead, you treated our love like the fucking tabloids. If you had tried to understand me, we could have made our own forever. Now I’m free; I have flown.

Saturdays: my heart might be broken and I’m a grade-A sap tbh, but my hometown is my secret weapon. Whenever I feel lost, I will always find myself there: “there” being the metaphor of Home that I carry inside. My childhood memories will always tell me who I am.

Silver Tongues: I’m a 90’s kid. I guess I’m a 90’s man now. Part of me still lives there. And I want to tell the kid in 2004 and all his friends, you’re gonna be alright. Hang on. Be good. Things will work out.

She Is Beauty We Are World Class: a brilliant night out

Common People: Doncaster is my touchstone. It grounds me and makes me who I am, reminds me what’s real.

Angels Fly: sometimes you have to table your grief and share a drink or ten with a friend.

Holding Onto Heartache: sometimes hearts don’t heal. Life feels like death. Every day feels worse than the previous day. Bad things pile up. What can we do? I am an artist, and I can write a grand, magnificent bridge to scream it all out, and it feels pretty goddamn cathartic! And maybe, maybe I can help others feeling the same way. My high is higher than most, and my lows are darker, but we can resist the pull of darkness together.

That’s The Way Love Goes: it’s their loss 🫡

You can see that many of these songs have the theme of recovering from loss, from heartache, but with an ebullient lightness that was missing from Walls. Most of all, Louis is also stepping back from sadness and self-blame, and giving himself some value. He knows he’s put in the work and he deserves good things, and he’s willing to wait for the payoff.

Forgot to add these photos of Louis looking thirty, flirty, and fucking hot.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[blueberry-lemon]

Five years in, finding a routine

Although mostly on accident, I’ve been working as a game developer and freelancer for the past five years.

That means that I work from home, and have to “be my own boss” on a day-to-day basis. I kept myself chained to my desk long before the pandemic came along, which meant I didn’t get the whiplash that a lot of people got from having not choice but to start working from home

That said…in all this time, I still haven’t found a very good routine for actually making it all work for me in a healthy way. Yikes.

I’ve always struggled to find the right rhythm for work-life balance. How to focus (maybe there’s some anxiety or attention deficiency secretly at play), how to avoid wanting to take breaks, how to find time for hobbies without feeling guilty, how to structure my “schedule.”

It probably doesn’t help that because our team is all around the world, we get up to all sorts of inconvenient time zone tomfoolery. Big bursts of work that has to be done immediately upon waking up or right before bed.

Now, in 2024, I am trying to finally put a structure together. I recently moved to a new apartment in a new town, which felt like a good time for a fresh start. Here’s what I’m up to so far.

I’m trying to wall off “weekends” as time for leisure as best I can. Even within that, it’s even better if I can wall off a little segment of time for a “hobby,” like drawing purely for my own fun instead of drawing for work. Obviously, sometimes work emergencies crop up and you just have to do them on the weekend.

I’ve dabbled with a Virtual Assistant for about 10 months to keep me organized (which went okay) but I’ve scrapped the whole thing and swapped over to an eight buck paper calendar pinned up next to my desk. Less fancy, but less pricey. My parents were great at keeping a huge calendar updated on the fridge when I was growing up. I was a fool to try to live without a physical calendar after high school. It’s made planning for the future “feasible” instead of “overwhelmingly impossible.” Google Calendar was never cutting it for me.

I use a really simple to-do app called Tasks (from Tasks.org). I had thought that maybe I could keep all my to-dos organized this way, but honestly it’s better for things that I need urgent phone notification reminders for. Like “do this right this second.” The rest I’m trying my best to track on the paper calendar.

I’ve started music lessons, going to the gym, and therapy weekly at the start of 2024. Not only do I love this trifecta, but it has also helped structure my weekdays for better and for worse. Can’t get work done while I’m doing those things, but it’s hopefully improving my life in a general sense.

And lastly…I’m writing this right now from a co-working space. I’ve always considered finding a place where I could take a laptop and get work done outside of my apartment, to try to separate “home” and “work” just a little bit more. A place to ignore distractions. Or, honestly, a place where I can’t do household chores or go grocery shopping as an excuse to not do work while feeling productive.

I considered libraries and cafes, and am still open to those as options, but this co-working space is actually really great so far. The vibes are immaculate. It’s peaceful and quiet without feeling lonely. There’s free snacks.

Hopefully this is the beginning of something like a healthy, productive routine. Definitely trying to prioritize finding something sustainable so that I can at least make it another five years in game development without going crazy.

The secret to getting out of my head and out of my bad habits could be getting out of the house.

[hashtag-xolo]

At least when it comes to America, when I say that capitalism is the biggest devil when it comes to doodles this goes beyond designer doodles can go for big bucks. It's a much deeper societal issue rooted in the fact that Americans are so horribly overworked and over-scheduled to even begin to survive in the current economic trash heap we're in. People are exhausted, physically and mentally, and lack a lot of extra time to do all the things that an active dog needs. Addition, this economic system has completely fractured and socially isolated people, even before the COVID-19 quarantine physically isolated people. People don't have the time or energy to visit with friends. Schedules don't line up and no one can afford to take time off of work or they could quite literally starve or lose their homes. And so people get dogs to fill this void.

Is it any wonder why America has a much larger population of "fur parents" "fur baby" etc identifying people? Dogs, by and large over other animals, are a solution for many people to fill this void so much so that everyone panicked to buy a pandemic puppy. Because a dog would fill the void. But even without the pandemic, people were still getting dogs to have as companions to relieve that isolation and loneliness that comes from being worked to death. We struggle to find the time and energy to be with our families and closest friends. So we have dogs. But the dogs that exhausted people want, and need, are low energy easy-to-manage companion breeds.

Doodles have been beautifully marketed to fill this void. They are marketed as smart and easy to train, I mean they're part poodle so obviously they train themselves right guys? And their coat is non-shedding so it's low maintenance! And they're so friendly and non-aggressive, just the perfect companion dog. So people who are lonely and isolated buy them up desperate for that Ultimate Companion Dog(tm). And these are people who are already exhausted and don't have the mental bandwidth to train or research deeply. They don't have the mental bandwidth to do a lot of brushing or extra cleaning of their house. That's why they want a non-shedding dog to begin with. And then vets and groomers bear the brunt of the issues with these dogs who actually have heavy grooming needs not getting properly trained and desensitized to long procedures. Because their owners don't know better and often can't do better because they simply don't have the time or energy.

So many people just want to not be alone. They want relief from the horrible isolation that capitalism brings and so they want the easiest possible dog to fill that void. And capitalism tells them it's a doodle. The two are completely and utterly intertwined. If people don't have the time and energy to become dog savvy and do the things they need to do with their dogs, then they won't because they can't. And a lot of people who are getting dogs just to fill a void wouldn't be getting dogs anymore. But because people are horrifically isolated and exhausted, this is what happens to fill that void. Doodles are not the problem; they're beautifully marketed as a way for too many people to patch over a much bigger problem. And this is incredibly evident in all of American dog culture from the way that doggy daycares are run to the reasons people often don't go to dog training professionals until an issue appears in their dogs.

[mashithamel]

In a story with lots of little tragic moments throughout, one thing that always hits me are the male channelers who exiled themselves to the Steddings during the breaking of the world.

It was noble and brave (they needed to remove themselves before they went mad to protect their loved ones and to keep themselves from contributing to the breaking). But one by one they left the Steddings. I think this was probably a really complicated thing that was probably both brave and selfish.

Brave, because they weren’t mad (yet), and maybe they could do something about the terrible things happening. Some, if not all, were Aes Sedai who probably felt a professional as well as moral responsibility to *do something* for humanity. Maybe the madness was gone. Maybe, somehow, it wouldn’t affect *them*. Maybe they could be the one to reverse it. And they couldn’t do any of that from the Stedding. How could they just watch the breaking and not at least try?

Selfish because in the Stedding they are cut off from the One Power and that causes it’s own set of problems. It’s addictive. Is it really living, once you’ve used it, to never use it again? Even if it means going mad in the end? But also they would have been lonely and isolated in the Stedding. Even with Ogier and each other, and maybe some brought families, exile and quarantine are hard to bear forever.

There is still debate three thousand years later—was this good, because if all the male channelers had been out at once maybe the world and Pattern would have just ended; or did it just prolong the Breaking and drag the agony out?

I think it resonates with our experiences with the pandemic. Was it better to “flatten the curve,” or did that just drag it out and should we have just let it rip? Or would letting the virus run unchecked have been too devastating for our society (moreso than it already was)? We all had to deal with quarantine and lock down, and for some this was horribly isolating and painful. It may have been the right thing to do, but it came with it’s own consequences.

How long could any of us have lasted in the Stedding, under those circumstances?

(To be clear, I’m a doctor who took care of covid patients and still does—we barely managed to not collapse our hospital system with the approaches taken. Vaccines work, social distancing and masks worked, and covid kills people. But the global experience of lock down, quarantining, and the isolation it produced are all very real too.)

[trapperisbestboi]

The Stubborn Narrator™

A MenWritingWomen parody

Chapter 1

This is the story of a man named John.

John worked in a coffee shop.

His job was simple: he stood behind the counter and he pushed buttons on a coffee machine.

Orders came to him through notes left by the waitresses on the counter telling him what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order.

John liked his job before, but since the pandemic precautions had to be taken and they made his work unbearable.

He was trapped behind that cold and lonely counter, he couldn't chat with the clients as they were allowed to stay at the tables outside exclusively and the face of the gorgeous young students working as waitresses were to be covered with hideous handkerchief-like masks.

The days had become monotonous, lonely and boring.

He had even tried to call back a few exes, in the hope of at least scratching a certain "itch" at least, but none were willing to risk their health for a couple of rides.

Such is the mistery of women.

They ask for handsome young men, with a humongous butternut squash and abs like King Bowser's carapace...but won't get close in fear of a simple flu.

And yet they should all thank the Lord just for being acknowledged by such an Apollonian beauty.

His skin was of the same colour as an F4 coffee that was smooth like silk, his eyes were like Italy roast beans, his lips soft and plump like pandoro and his voice was deep and powerful like thunder. His curly hair were the colour of the Hershey's Cookies & Chocolate bar and they flowed down like a natural frame around his clavicles.

Alas, what good is a Cupid without a Psyche?

Luckily one day, something unexpected happened.

Something that would forever change John;

Something he would never quite forget.

He came in an hour before the opening hours to prepare the supplies like he did everyday.

While he was putting the glasses in their place, Taylor Swift's Shake it off started blasting at full volume.

John tripped but managed to not break anything and answered his phone.

It was his boss, warning him about a new waitress starting that morning.

John thanked him with a smile, even though he couldn't see him anyway and ended the call before swearing at him.

J : "That dumbass couldn't just send a message like everyone else? And who cares, I probably wouldn't have noticed anyways!"

The rest of the hour passed with no other inconveniences.

The waitresses arrived and the day started like usual.

Around midday a loud crash was heard nor far from the café accompanied by a couple of curses and a young woman came running in the shop accompanied by the sound of her ass cheeks clapping.

Her skin was of the same colour as hazelnut ice-cream, her eyes were like smurf gummies, her lips thins and glossy and her voice was soft and clear like water slime. Her straight hair were the colour as the muzzle of newborn piglets and were pulled up in an adorably messy tall braid. She wore a purple sundress short and translucent enough to feed the imagination, but covering the amount needed to leave you hungry. She obviously wasn't used to run as could be vouched by her wide, round hips and the two huge pastry puffs hanging on her chest that moved in perfect harmony with her lungs that were trying desperately to recover.

M : "I...I'm sorry, there was a...a protest at the bus station and it wa...it was really far so I had to come with the...the bike..."

J : "It's ok...you're the new waitress right? Do you need to sit down?"

M : "Yh-heah"

The woman took the nearest chair and fell on it like the apple on Newton making her watermelons jump like a cat surprised by a cucumber.

M : "Hi...I'm-John?!"

The Venus accidentally said his name instead of hers, what an endearing silly rabbit.

J : "Do we know each other?"

She lowered her mask showing a smug smile under her tiny freckled nose.

J : "MARIE EFFING SMITH???

The flat, skinny idiot that was always late and constantly picked up fight with the buffest people in the gym that I had to rescue constantly??"

Marie got up and stood in the sassiest pose possible.

M : "One I'm not an idiot, if it wasn't for ME you'd still be in elementary school buster!

Two I was only picking up fight with them so you could show off in front of da girlz.

I will not address the rest."

Am I doing this correctly?

Feel free to give constructive criticism.

List of chapters + plot in link below

https://www.tumblr.com/trapperisbestboi/692758068194377728/i-think-by-now-we-all-know-the-literary-horror