#one of these texts posts has a typo but i pretend not to see it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cha-melodius · 8 months

Note

Oh my goodness, I've just seen your fic festival request post and am excited to sneak in to participate before it closes. I love your writing and your stories so very much!

My prompt suggestion is... firstprince in Edinburgh, Scotland... in particular, the Edinburgh pride parade (if I may be so oddly specific). AU welcome, canon welcome, makeouts welcome, ahem.

Thank you and good luck wrangling everyone's prompts!

(Firstly, I have to say I love your url and your profile pic! Secondly, this is heavier on the Pride and lighter on the Edinburgh as far as the details go, but I hope it delights. Inspired in part by a tweet shared on tumblr; rated M for dick jokes. Happy Bisexual Awareness Week!)

Something To Be Proud Of

(firstprince, 3.3k, M; read it below or on AO3) read all the fandom fest fics

Henry stares at the carbon copy of the email in his inbox and wills time to go backwards. Just a few minutes, that’s all he needs. Enough time to go back and keep autocorrect from transforming whatever he’d typed after ‘he’ in his pronouns after his name into… that.

Thank you so much for all your help. Together we can make this a truly exceptional Edinburgh Pride. Regards, Henry Fox (he/hung Sent from Outlook for iOS.

How had he not seen it before he hit send on an email going out to every volunteer on their mailing list? How had he not noticed?

Maybe no one else would notice either. No one looks at email signatures that closely, right?

~~~~~

Ok, he’s not delusional enough to think that no one noticed. He had, however, naively believed that everyone would recognise it for what it was and politely ignore his gaff. He gets away scot free for a few days, and then, at the end of an email sent by a volunteer that is mostly as expected, he sees:

Best, Alex (he/him) PS: not sure I did the pronouns right. Does ‘Pride’ over here include being proud of your big dick?

It’s a damned good thing that he wasn’t taking a sip of his tea at the time, or he might be wearing it instead. Once he’s finished choking on nothing and perhaps isn’t quite the colour of a tomato (oh, who is he kidding, of course he still is), Henry professionally answers Alex’s questions about the schedule for the day of the march. He pauses before the sign off, wondering if he should acknowledge the flub or pretend it never happened. In the end, he writes:

Regards, Henry (he/him) PS: Your pronouns look correct to me, but they are, of course, your choice.

He only checks the email about ten times before he sends it. Hopefully, that should be the end of it.

~~~~~

It’s not.

Apparently, Alex has more questions. Apparently the law firm he works for is one of this year’s sponsors and is interested in potentially running a free legal clinic associated with the festival. A noble endeavour, which Henry is only too happy to assist with. He makes a mental note to look into logistics with Kate, the event’s chair, and continues reading. Finding out that Alex is apparently mature enough to be a lawyer lulls him into a false sense of security, though. At the tail of the email, he finds:

PS: regardless of the size of your dick, I’m impressed by the balls it takes to not acknowledge the typo. Then again, maybe it wasn’t? PPS: I’m trying out new pronouns. How do you think (daddy/sir) would go over?

Henry does spit his tea all over his phone this time.

He doesn’t email Alex back right away, but that’s because he has to wait to hear back from Kate. It has nothing to do with the fact that the prospect of dragging this interaction out longer is both horrifying and vaguely thrilling. Henry has noticed that he uses Americanised spellings in his text, which seems to fit with his general demeanour. It piques Henry’s curiosity, even though the thought of actually having to face Alex in person still makes him flush automatically. Eventually he gets an email from Kate that includes additional questions for the firm, as well as telling him that he can pass it off to someone in sponsor coordination. He is, after all, just the volunteer coordinator for the march. This need not involve him.

He still emails Alex back with the questions. And:

PS: Although I support your creativity, I am concerned those pronouns may not be appreciated in a professional setting such as, for instance, a court of law. Just a thought. However, I do suspect they might be rather popular at Pride.

~~~~~

They keep on exchanging emails, even though Henry should have sent Alex’s contact info to sponsor coordination ages ago, even though it becomes clear that Alex is not the one who will be ultimately responsible for the clinic either. On every one, there is a postscript in which Alex makes some kind of joke about the size of Henry’s dick.

do you have to get all your pants specially made with extra room in the crotch

do you have to check your dick as luggage when you fly

have you ever used it as a tripod

is your dick in another time zone

do you call your dick Sir Richard because it’s that prominent

In turn, Henry responds as dryly as possible, which only seems to encourage him. Oddly for someone who is volunteering at the event, Alex seems to have a lot of questions about Pride itself, as though this is the first one he’s attending on any continent. They exchange emails almost right up to the day of the march itself, but if they do taper off, Henry is too busy to notice. Coordinating volunteers for something as big as Edinburgh Pride is intense, and the days tick by before he even knows it.

He’s standing off to the side at the volunteer check-in tent on the morning of the march, going over some last minute logistics with one of his staff, when a voice carries over the hubbub, deep and rich with an out-of-place American accent.

“Sorry, but I was hoping… is Henry here?”

Henry straightens up and turns toward the voice only to find perhaps the most stunning man he’s ever seen standing at the front table. Dark, curly hair, a sharp jaw, big brown eyes with the longest eyelashes Henry has ever seen— he’s actually impossibly beautiful. Unbelievable, really. As is the fact that he’s asking for Henry.

“Hello,” Henry says as he walks over to the front. “How can I help you?”

The man’s eyes snap over to him, and he very clearly looks Henry up and down and swears, “Jesus fuck,” under his breath. Then his eyes come back up to Henry’s face, and he swallows. “You’re not Scottish.”

Henry cocks an eyebrow at him. “Neither are you.”

“Yeah, sorry. I just— need to adjust what you sound like in my head,” he says nonsensically. “I’m Alex?”

Oh.

Oh, Christ.

Henry should have known, because how many other Americans could there be volunteering at Edinburgh Pride? That reality does nothing to help him cope with the situation presented before him, though, in which this is the man who’s been teasing him about the size of his dick for the last month.

“I, uh,” he says eloquently as he tries to pull himself together. There are far too many people standing around watching this exchange. “Hello. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Did your firm get everything sorted with the clinic?”

“Oh,” Alex says, blinking. “Yeah, thanks. Look, I’m sure you’re busy, but I have something for you?”

It kind of comes out as a question, and he’s scratching the back of his head uncertainly, so even though Henry has no idea what’s coming, he nods. Then Alex reaches into his pocket, fishes out something small and round, and places it on the table between them.

It’s a button. A pronoun button, not unlike the one Henry’s already wearing, but instead it reads: he/hung.

Henry’s eyes snap up to find Alex grinning at him with the kind of mischief that Henry honestly should have expected from him sparkling in his eye. “Wanted to make sure you were prepared,” he says with a little one-shouldered shrug. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

Then he takes his volunteer t-shirt and saunters off—and Christ those jeans are ridiculously tight and doing everything for his arse—leaving Henry gawping after him. A moment later, one of his regular volunteers, Robin, bustles by, catches sight of the button, and lets out a sound that can only be described as a cackle.

“My god, it’s perfect,” they say. “Did he really make this for you?”

Henry can only sigh, dragging a hand over his face. “It appears so. Robin, can you do me a favour?”

“Make sure you’re working the same stations all day?” they surmise. Henry doesn’t need to look to imagine the knowing grin on their face.

Henry wants to say no. Just because Henry’s already managed to combine the affection engendered by their previous email conversations with Alex’s stunning good looks into a powerfully intoxicating cocktail of a crush—well, that’s on Henry and his poor decision-making.

Instead, he says: “Yes, exactly that.”

~~~~~ ~~~~~

Alex had only signed up to volunteer at Pride on a whim. He’s always complaining that he doesn’t know anyone in Edinburgh outside of his coworkers, and one such coworker—someone that he could safely call a friend—suggested that getting involved in the festival would be a good way to meet people. Alex had tried to explain that he wasn’t actually queer, but she’d just given him an odd look and told him that allies were welcome at Pride too. It had felt a little weird signing up despite her assurances, but also kind of good. He was finally going get out there and have a life beyond his job.

He certainly hadn’t expected to strike up a prolonged email exchange with the volunteer coordinator, Henry. He also doesn’t really know why he kept finding excuses to send him new messages, except for Henry’s responses to Alex’s stupid jokes made Alex imagine him rolling his eyes and trying not to laugh, which only egged Alex on further. It was fun. That’s all.

Nothing about any of this made him prepared to show up to the volunteer check-in tent today and be plunged directly into a sexuality crisis. But that seems to be exactly what’s currently happening now that he’s been confronted by quite possibly the hottest man he’s ever seen. Alex doesn’t even get it because it’s not like he hasn’t been able to objectively appreciate attractive men before, and blond hair and blue eyes have historically never really done it for him. Even if they are combined with swooping cheekbones, and broad shoulders, and obscenely full, pink lips.

All he knows is that as much as this doesn’t make sense, it also suddenly does. Why he’d felt drawn to sign up in the first place. Why he spent the last month reading about the history of Pride in Edinburgh and around the world. Why he’d gone on a deep dive doing research about different sexualities, brushing it off as wanting to be informed before meeting new people.

Why he was so obsessed with Henry’s dick.

Jesus fuck.

He thinks he manages to hold a short conversation. Somehow he even gives Henry the custom button he brought as a joke, smiling the whole time like he’s not moment’s away from dropping to his knees. He flees the table safe in the knowledge that Henry will likely be too busy coordinating stuff all day and Alex probably won’t see him again. That confidence is shattered when, not even an hour later, Henry shows up at the station Alex is supposed to be working. He’s even wearing the joke button, under his regular pronoun button and next to a little rainbow flag pin. Alex is going to die.

“Oh hey,” Alex says in a reasonable facsimile of nonchalance. “Did you need me for something?”

“Not exactly,” Henry replies. “I’ll be working this station too.”

Yeah, Alex is definitely not going to make it through the day.

~~~~~

It actually turns out to be not as bad as he feared, despite how Henry’s volunteer t-shirt is probably a size too small (never mind that in the context of everyone else at Pride he looks downright conservative) and Alex keeps getting caught staring at his shoulders or his back or his waist. Henry keeps on giving him weird looks at the beginning, probably because he’s expecting Alex to be cracking crude jokes. Too bad Alex is way too wound up in his own head to think of anything at all.

They’re pretty busy all day, but they do get a chance to chat occasionally, mostly small talk stuff about jobs and how they both ended up in Edinburgh. Henry is there for grad school, apparently, and has been volunteering for Pride since he moved out from under his grandmother’s restrictive shadow. In turn, Alex tells him about applying for the law job on a whim, desperate to set himself apart from his parents, and how much he likes Edinburgh (despite the weather). As the day stretches on and the streets fill up, Alex feels himself relaxing into his skin again, undeniably enjoying the festivities as well as Henry’s company.

See, the other thing he never, ever expected is how good it feels to be here. All the people around him loudly comfortable in themselves, and the color and glitter and celebration— it’s amazing, but it’s not just that he’s watching other people be happy. There’s a kind of ecstatic joy that bubbles up inside him at the fact that he’s part of it, one that he feels down to his bones. A sense of belonging that he’s never really experienced before, and that, more than anything else, makes him more certain of his newfound revelation.

Straight people probably don’t feel like this at Pride.

At the end of the day, he’s helping pack up the main volunteer tent when he comes across a table full of pins depicting different pride flags. He dimly remembers seeing them when he’d checked in and thinking that none of them applied to him. Now, he stares down at them and bites his lower lip uncertainly.

“There’s a box for those under the table,” Henry tells him from across the tent, misinterpreting his hesitation.

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Alex says, and Henry’s already turning back to whatever he’s doing when he manages to continue, “Hey, can I— um, can I take one of these?”

Henry stops, his brow creasing as he tips his head slightly. “Of course. That’s what they’re there for.”

“Right, thanks,” Alex says with a tight smile.

He puts his hand out, hesitates, then picks up one with pink, purple, and blue stripes. Stares down at it for another moment before he realizes he’s probably being weird and he’s pretty sure Henry is still watching him. He swallows hard, then pins it to his shirt next to his pronoun button.

No one jumps out to call him out for being an impostor. Henry offers him a careful smile, then turns back to his work like he knows Alex needs a moment to himself. He lets his fingers rub over the surface of the pin, feeling the little enamel ridges, and something settles under his skin, like an itch he hadn’t even been aware of until it was gone.

He feels almost normal by the time Henry walks up to him once they’re finished and everything is packed away in someone’s car.

“Thanks so much for your help today,” Henry says.

“It was my pleasure,” Alex replies, and means it more than he can say. “I’m really glad I decided to sign up.”

“I realize you may very well be tired of my face at this point, but if you don’t already have plans, I was wondering if you’d like to go get a drink?”

Alex would like to make a joke about how it might be literally impossible to get tired of Henry’s face, but at this point he’d probably fuck up and confess his undying love for a guy he just met. “Sounds great,” he says instead, looking around at where a few of the other volunteers are lingering nearby. “Do y’all usually all go out together afterward?”

Henry coughs slightly and glances down at the ground for a few seconds as his cheeks turn faintly pink. “Well yes, a group of them usually do. But I was actually asking if you wanted to go out with me,” he says. “Just the two of us.”

“Oh,” Alex breathes as his stomach decides to do a backflip. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Spending all day volunteering with Henry was fun. Going on a date with Henry, being the sole focus of his attention, is intoxicating. Alex feels like he could sit here all night listening to Henry talk about his research on queer history, although that’s far from the only thing they talk about. As the night wears on and the pub slowly empties, Alex is buzzing with a few drinks and the euphoria of really clicking with someone, already wondering when would be too soon to ask Henry out again.

Henry shifts slightly so his legs press against Alex’s where they’re tangled together under the table—have been for several hours, actually. He’s playing with the stirrer in his empty glass, and a little teasing smirk sneaks onto his lips as he looks up at Alex.

“So you made me a custom pronoun button but forgot your own?”

“Ah, you know,” Alex replies with a shit-eating grin and a one-shouldered shrug, “thought it would be too distracting, what with how everyone would be hitting on me all day.”

Henry hums thoughtfully, biting back a wider smile. “If you wanted to avoid that, you probably should have chosen some looser trousers.”

“That’s fair. I suppose you had to go for the room in yours.” Alex pauses a beat. “You know, on account of the size of your dick.”

That makes Henry actually laugh and shake his head fondly. “I was waiting all day for that.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Alex says, chuckling along with him. It does feel like he owes Henry something of an explanation of why he was so weird all day. He looks down and licks his lips. “Can I confess something?”

“Of course,” Henry answers with a small, encouraging smile.

“A friend of mine suggested I volunteer for this because I wanted to meet people. Make new friends. But until today I actually thought I was… mostly straight?” Alex admits, trying not to wince as he stares fixedly into his empty glass. “Being part of this made me realize why I always felt a little like I wasn’t my whole self. So I was… kind of going through it a bit today.” He pauses, then adds, “Also you’re so ridiculously fucking hot that you kind of melted my brain.”

Henry laughs again, but it’s softer this time. Gentle. Alex kind of wants to sink into the sound. Henry’s cheeks are slightly pink as he extends a hand across the table, and Alex doesn’t hesitate before he slides his hand into Henry’s and links their fingers together.

“I’m glad to hear that, Alex,” Henry says. “I mean, the feeling like your whole self part. Not the brain melting part,” he adds, and Alex can’t help but laugh with him.

Henry doesn’t let go of his hand as they walk outside, and once they’re alone on the sidewalk he uses it to pull Alex close. He puts a hand on Alex’s hip and Alex has to tip his head up to look at him, and it’s a lot but he’s also pretty sure he’s never wanted anything more than to feel Henry’s lips pressed against his.

“I have a confession too,” Henry murmurs as he stares down into Alex’s eyes.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been dreaming of kissing you since the very first moment I saw you.”

Alex lets one corner of his mouth tug upwards. “What’s stopping you, baby?”

“Christ, Alex,” Henry breathes, looking momentarily overwhelmed, but then he’s pressing his lips to Alex’s, and Alex feels his blood sing. It’s brief and chaste and leaves him aching for more, but then Henry looks down at him with heavy lidded eyes and asks, “Given your recent personal revelations, would it be terribly forward of me to ask you back to my place?”

“Ask away, sweetheart,” Alex replies, then he reaches up to touch the side of the ridiculous he/hung button that Henry is still wearing for some reason. “I wanna find out how accurate this button is.”

(It doesn’t take long for him to find out that the answer is: extremely.)

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fic #firstprince fanfic #chamel's fandom fest #my fic

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wobster109 · 1 year

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Twitter isn't going down all at once, but it was never going to. No site gets that big and popular without being pretty stable. I'd expect trouble to gradually pop up over the timespan of a few weeks and months as crucial but unexciting tasks get overlooked.

I'm no systems expert. I'm a programmer who writes code in a little silo, so I'm only peripherally aware of how systems, applications, networks, etc. all work together. But here is my best guess.

Here are some places Twitter might start breaking down.

Software is always changing, and some of those changes are in underlying tools. Look for the words "API" or "patch". If whatever uses it is not updated, it's going down. One example is how neopets games don't work anymore: Neopets doesn't own or develop Flash, but it relied on Flash.

This could be as silent as authentication protocols. What this means is that different chunks of code are always asking other chunks of code to do things for them, for example when I tweet from my phone, my phone asks Twitter to post the tweet. The tweet is not posted on my phone, it is posted on Twitter, where anyone can see it, browser or mobile. So Twitter needs to decide whether to post the tweet to my account. Well, my phone tells Twitter that I am signed in, but does Twitter believe it? Or is it a hacker pretending to be my phone? There are all sorts of protocols before Twitter will believe my phone. Think of it as whispering "The eagle flies at night," or perhaps "I like your shoelaces". Now, security experts are saying "No! That phrase is too common! You need a different phrase!" And if Twitter doesn't have anyone who can update their code phrase, they will no longer know whom to trust. I used this example specifically because authentication protocols are always changing.

In the same vein as Flash, a lot of third-party stuff is licensed. Annually or monthly. Something as big as Twitter probably uses a bunch of third-party stuff in its code. It's easier and more robust than writing it from scratch, just like me building my own table with my own hammer won't come out with a great product. I do not know what third-party software Twitter is using (one guess is it probably uses some image-scanning tool). Personally, I work at a small-medium company and we use third-party software for bug reports/ticketing, and we rent Cloud space from one of the big Cloud providers, and we contract with a company to watch our network traffic for hacking attempts. If we don't renew the contracts, then our stuff stops working. This won't happen to twitter overnight, but crucially, the people who know when it will happen, and to what, might be fired or gone.

Maintenance - data: electronic stuff generates data and logs all the time, and the more data you have, the slower stuff runs. We routinely archive our old logs and files. Some of it is very low-tech -It will take you several minutes to open an excel doc if it has 100k lines in it, and it will freeze when you scroll. A database is like a high-tech version of that. Twitter is always looking up who your mutuals are, what they posted, what you posted, etc. With something like 2/3 of its staff gone, are the crucial databases getting archived or cleaned? (For databases of tweets, it's probably automatically cleaned up. But somewhere down the line, there are probably a handful of somethings - folders, obscure databases, files etc - that are not. Here, we have a text log of user updates that someone manually archives every few months.)

Maintenance - incidents: sometimes something comes up that only a human can fix. One example of this is when new hire A's ID got typoed, and their account got merged with person B, and they can't access any of the stuff they need. Another example is a physical device goes offline, and the reason is it got physically unplugged. Does twitter have the staff to investigate and manually handle these situations? A few issues here and there is probably ok, Twitter probably has redundancies built in, and is not relying on any one person or device. But if it becomes a backlog, and issues pile up over time, there could be trouble down the line.

All this to say that Twitter won't be gone overnight. More likely it will gradually have more and more errors popping up, and get slower and buggier until it falls apart. I think this will start to become more noticeable after a month or so.

It sounds like Twitter is already seeing the first signs of trouble. Axios reports that Twitter has gotten bad at detecting copyright infringement. That may have been one of the third-party tools it was relying on.

#twitter #software #computer science #networks #authentication

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mackenzielovee · 2 years

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Hi!!! I loved hit my line! Please post the second blurb! I know you’re so busy with college work but if you have the time could you please do a protective Rafe over Y/n and the baby like maybe something happens that feels off or when it comes to y/n actually giving birth! 🥰

a/n: hi my love! i was gonna keep it short but it wound up a little long LOL but i hope you enjoy regardless, this is where i took the idea so i hope you like it!! p.s i wrote this entire thing just now and didn't edit it so sorry hope it doesn't have any major typos oops

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, false labor, anxiety, swearing, kissing

series masterlist

ambivalence blurb: 23 - rafe cameron

"Cameron, come on. She'll still be here when we get back."

Topper's voice carries all the way from the hood of his Jeep, the one he's currently leaned up against and pretending to gag as he watches Rafe grip your hand and kiss you like his life depends on it.

He's wearing the navy blue polo you bought him for his birthday, which is today, and the reason why Topper and Kelce are waiting on him to go play a round of golf at the Club. He'd loved the polo when he opened it up this morning, and when you showed him what you had sewn on the inside of the breast pocket, he'd teared up and told you it was his favorite gift he'd ever received. The two of you had finally picked a name but kept it private, and you'd put the name there just for him to see whenever he used it.

"Go on," you say against his lips, "I'll be here when you come home."

"Is it too late to cancel?" he whispers.

You laugh, "Yes."

He frowns and kisses you again, throwing his middle finger over his shoulder toward Topper when he groans again.

"Will you come meet us at the Club for lunch? I can come back and get you, or-"

"I'll be there," you smile, "Just text me when you're on the last hole."

"Okay, sweetheart," he agrees, squeezing your hand.

"Jesus, Y/N, can you push him off the porch or something? Tee time's in ten minutes!" Kelce yells from the driveway.

"Go," you say again, grinning widely when he rolls his eyes.

"Fine," he grunts, releasing your hand and placing it on your baby bump. Five and a half months along now; only making it harder for Rafe to leave you any time he has to.

"Happy birthday, handsome," you say, meeting his hand with your own on your stomach.

He smiles, "Thank you, baby. Call me if you need anything, yeah?"

You nod and give him one last kiss before he steps off the porch, flipping off the boys once again when they yell out 'finally!'.

You stand on the porch and watch him climb into the passenger seat, removing his sunglasses from his collar and placing them over his eyes. He presses a kiss to his fingers and then waves at you, which you return with a smile. Kelce waves to you from the backseat and yells something you can't hear over the hum of Topper's engine, but it earns a glare from Rafe.

You laugh and wave one final time before Topper takes off, then turn and walk back into the foyer of the Cameron home. When you close the door behind you, your eyes catch on the picture frames sitting on the mahogany desk resting against the wall adjacent to the stairs. It has a new addition; a photo of you and Rafe from about a month ago, both of you dressed up to celebrate Ward and Rose's wedding anniversary. You smile at it as you pass, heading into the kitchen.

Rose, Wheezie and Sarah are in full work mode, cleaning the kitchen and dining room out from Rafe's surprise birthday breakfast. You'd had to get up extra early to sneak out of the guest house and over here to get to work, but Rafe, being the morning person he is, had come looking for you after his run and walked in all sweaty and concerned.

He'd laughed when he saw the table, decorated to the nines by Rose and all of his favorite foods spread across it, complete with his girl standing at the head of the table. You'd given him a big smile and a kiss, one he didn't expect from you this early in the morning.

Now, as you watch the girls deconstruct it, you smile at the memory. When you step over to the sink to help Sarah with the dishes, she shakes her head.

"Go sit," she says, nodding to the living room, "We've got this."

"Sarah, come on," you groan.

"She's right, honey," Rose cuts in, "You should rest. You've been going nonstop since this morning."

"I'm fine," you say.

"Prove it," Rose challenges, "Go be fine on the couch."

You roll your eyes playfully at her, watching her smile as she rearranges the bouquet of flowers she'd had at the head of the table. You furrow your brows, as if to silently question why she's doing that. She chuckles and explains.

"Rafe asked what I plan to do with them," she tells you, "I told him they were for his birthday breakfast, so he asked me to rearrange them and give them to you."

You smile and shake your head at the boy, unable to believe that even on his birthday, he's still thinking of you. Sarah smiles at you, watching you grin like a little girl.

"He's so sweet," you say quietly.

"That he is," Rose agrees, "They'd look lovely on your kitchen table."

You nod and watch as she wraps a ribbon around the vase, then places it on the counter and tells you to take them to the guest house next time you head out there. You agree and then step over to Wheezie, watching her put leftovers into containers.

Just as you reach the counter, you grab hold of it when you feel a weird, mild pain shooting up your stomach. You wince and shut your eyes, but it passes after you take a deep breath.

"You okay?" Wheezie asks you, glancing hesitantly at Rose, who hasn't noticed.

"I'm fine," you shake your head, giving her a smile, "Let me help."

"You're supposed to be resting," she counters, but when she sees your raised eyebrow, she slides over a container to you and lets you get to work.

You joke around with her as you two organize the leftovers, which are stacking up quickly. You grab a few of the containers and step over to the fridge, using one hand to pull open the door when the pain in your stomach returns. The containers come toppling out of your arm, only one opening and spilling all over the floor.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Rose asks, reaching out to grab your elbow.

You take two deep breaths, eyes glued shut as you breathe through it. You're sure it will pass like it did before, and it does. When you open your eyes, worry is plastered all over Rose's face. Sarah shuts off the water and steps over, eyebrows furrowed and eyes soft.

"Yes," you say breathlessly, "Oh, I'm so sorry-"

"No, no, it's okay," she counters, "Go sit down. I mean it. We'll get it."

You shake your head to argue, but the stern, mother-like look in your eye makes you nod. Your hand wraps around the bottom of your stomach and you instinctually pat, as if to comfort your baby boy.

Sarah offers her hand silently, and you grab ahold of it and let her lead you into the living room. She lets you sit down on the couch and then brings a blanket over to you, then sits down on the coffee table directly in front of you.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

There's a hint of nervousness in her voice, as if she still feels the wall up between you two and doesn't want to push you too far. Although things have definitely improved and you are civil and even kind to one another, it still feels odd to divulge your feelings to her once again.

"Just a weird feeling. I'm sure it's fine," you say, nodding your head as if to convince yourself and her at once.

"I'm sure it is, too," she agrees, "But, maybe we should stop by a hospital. Just in case."

You shake your head, "I'm just being dramatic. I'm fine, I promise."

She stares at you hesitantly, but ultimately nods and stands up.

"Okay. I'll make you some tea. And call Rafe."

Your eyes dart up to her, immediately shaking your head.

"No, Sarah, don't. He'll worry, and it's nothing to worry about. He needs to enjoy his birthday."

"Y/N," she sighs, placing a hand on her hip, "He'd kill me if I didn't call."

"I'll hide the knives," you counter, earning a smile and a shake of the head from her, "Please."

She sighs again and then nods slowly, inching back toward the kitchen.

"Tea's coming up," she says, then turns and exits the living room.

You sigh and sit back, blocking out the worrying yourself. Although you'd never felt anything like that so far, you don't feel as if it's anything to get worked up over. Especially on Rafe's birthday. The last thing you'd want to do is get him all worried and go to the hospital only to find out it was nothing and you're totally fine.

Rose comes in and sits down on the other end of the couch, sympathy evident on her features. Her phone rests in her hand and at first she's not sure what to say, but you know she's in here because she doesn't want to leave you alone.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she asks after a minute.

"Yes, I'm okay, I promise," you nod, "I'm sorry about the mess."

"No, don't even worry about that," she shakes her head.

You swallow when you feel the weird sensation return, placing a hand on your stomach and tensing when the pain starts to set in.

"What is it?" Rose asks, face draining almost completely of color.

You take one deep breath and exhale, then look up at her, "Um, just a little discomfort."

The pain intensifies, making you lean forward and groan without meaning to. Rose stands up and steps over to you, running a hand through your hair.

"Honey," she says calmly, "I'm sure everything is fine, but I'm going to take you to the hospital just in case."

The thought of going to the hospital without Rafe makes you want to cry. You take in another shaky breath and ignoring the stinging of tears in your eyes, then nod slowly. Your heart sinks; the pain of ruining Rafe's birthday outweighing the pain in your lower stomach. You look up at Rose and frown, standing when she guides you upright.

"I need to call Rafe," you say quietly, your voice almost sounding ashamed.

"We'll call him from the car. Everything's fine, just relax," she promises.

Sarah walks back into the living room with a mug, which almost tumbles out of her hand when she sees the expression on your face.

"What-" she starts, but Rose holds her hand up.

"Get my purse and tell Wheezie to finish cleaning up, all right?" Rose says calmly, already guiding you toward the door.

Sarah just nods, her eyes moving between the two of you before she rushes back into the kitchen.

"How's the pain?" Rose asks.

"It's going away," you say weakly.

She nods and leads you out to the car, helping you into the passenger seat. She brushes the hair back from your face and gives you an encouraging, calm smile, which is exactly what you need. Sarah comes running out of the house with Rose's purse and dives into the backseat, letting Rose take off quickly.

"I have to..." you trail off, feeling your empty back pocket, "Fuck, I forgot my phone. I have to call-"

"I'll call," Sarah places an encouraging hand on your shoulder, giving you a small squeeze.

"Just relax," Rose says again, "Focus on your breathing and let me know if you need me to pull over or anything."

You nod and take a deep breath, trusting Sarah to call him. You close your eyes and try to stay calm, but the worry that something could be wrong has your nerves going like crazy. You'd been doing everything right; eating what you're supposed to eat, getting exercise, sleeping well, keeping your stress levels down.

As if she can read your mind, Rose quietly says, "I'm sure everything is okay."

You open your eyes and look over at her, giving her a small smile. She can see the worrying going on in your head, so she does her best to keep her own at a minimum so she can encourage you.

"Rafe?" Sarah says from the backseat, then she groans, "No, Kelce, I'm serious. Give the phone back to Rafe. I'm not playing - no, give it back to him! Kelce - it's about Y/N. Something's wrong."

You swallow and suck in another deep breath, focusing on the road ahead and keeping your stress levels to a minimum. After a few seconds, Sarah speaks up again.

"Rafe," she sighs, "Yes, she - I don't know. Some sort of pain, I'm not sure - yeah, we're on our way to the hospital. Yes, I'm staying calm..."

Her voice drops, and just as you hold your hand out for the phone, desperate to hear your voice, Sarah speaks up.

"He wants to talk to you."

You grab the phone and turn it in your hands, pressing it to your ear.

"Rafe," you breathe.

"Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you're feeling," he says. Although he sounds calm, you know him and you know he's trying not to freak out.

You can hear the clubs in his golf bag clanking as he walks, the noise rather fast-paced, and you find comfort in knowing that he's on his way.

"It's just this really weird feeling, some pain in my stomach, I don't know-"

"Okay," he encourages calmly, and you hear a car door slam, "Is it coming and going?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," he repeats, "Just stay calm for me. I'm sure everything is fine. I've been reading about false labor and how you can have what feels like contractions. Does it feel like that?"

You groan, "Rafe. I've never had a contraction before."

His chuckle coming through the phone seems to calm something deep inside of you. He's calm, he's laughing, and of course he would know what the problem is. You smile despite the pain returning in your stomach, which makes Rose smile, too.

"Fair point," he says, "How far are you from the hospital?"

Your eyes do a quick scan of the road as you recognize where you are, "Five minutes."

"Okay, all right. How about we stay on the phone until you get there."

You smile softly, "Okay. It's starting to hurt again."

"Take a deep breath, sweetheart. It's going to pass," he encourages.

You do as he says, letting him listen to you exhale and inhale again. When he starts to speak again, you feel comforted just by the sound of his voice.

"Hey, guess what?"

"What?" you ask absentmindedly, leaning back into the headrest.

"I was kicking Top's ass on the course."

You laugh through your breathing, the pain momentarily escaping you as you listen to Topper protest from the diver's seat.

"He was not!"

"Yeah, I was, baby," Rafe whispers into the phone.

"Y/N," Kelce speaks loud enough that you can hear him, "Top missed, like, three easy putts. Your dad could've kicked his ass."

"Her dad's actually really good," Rafe informs Kelce.

"Yeah, he is," you agree.

Rafe laughs lightly, "How're we looking on arrival, sweetheart?"

"Two minutes, give or take," you tell him.

In your head, you can see him nod and run a hand through his now messy hair, the hair you're sure he's been fidgeting with since the second Sarah called.

You speak again, "How far are you?"

You don't mean for it to come out so vulnerable, but when you hear him exhale into the phone, a sort of sad, wishing he was with you, sigh, you frown.

"Five minutes," he says, then quickly, "Four. Do not wait for me."

"Rafe-"

You start to protest, but Rose pulls into view of the hospital and straight up to the front doors.

"Sarah, park the car," she demands and hops out, rushing around to your side.

Sarah gives you another pat on the shoulder and then gets out, running around to the driver's seat. When Rose pulls open your door, she gives you a wide smile and removes the phone from your hand.

"Come on," she grabs your hand, pressing the phone to her ear with her shoulder, "Rafe? I'm taking her inside now. I gotta go."

She hangs up before he can protest, which you're sure he will, and hurries you inside. Rose calmly explains to the first person she sees what's happening, and the nurse guides you away from Rose, who isn't permitted to come with you. Rose steps into the waiting area, and just before you're out of an earshot, you hear the voice you'd been dying for. You freeze, letting the nurse think you're having more pain.

"Hi," he's breathless, like he sprinted inside, "Looking for my wife, she just got brought in. She's five-and-a-half months along, having some pain."

You turn around and start walking back up to the front, brushing the nurse off when she attempts to protest. You turn the corner and see him, standing in front of the desk with his messy hair, hat in hand, sunglasses resting in his shirt. He's swallowing, hand patting the countertop repeatedly as he waits for her to locate you.

"Rafe," you say quietly.

His eyes dart up and he finds you instantly, rushing to you with his hands out. He takes ahold of your hands and opens his mouth to speak, then looks to the nurse and quickly figures out what's going on.

"Everything's good," he smiles to you, "Let's just get you checked out, okay, baby?"

You nod to him and he nods to the nurse, silently telling her to lead you both back.

Rafe had been right; Braxton-Hicks contractions being the culprit. Rafe, who apparently had become an expert on all things pregnancy related, had a very intelligent conversation with the doctor about it. He'd exhaled and relaxed the second the doctor announced what it was, but you'd never heard of that before. He explained that you and the baby are both healthy, and there's nothing to worry about.

When he excuses himself, you turn to Rafe and squeeze his hand, finding him to already be looking at you.

"See? Everything's okay. We're doing everything right," he smiles.

You're laid out on the table and Rafe's sitting in the seat beside you, hand still gripping yours as tightly as it had been when he first sat down.

You smile sadly, "Yeah."

"What?" he furrows his eyebrows, questioning your sad expression and the tears in your eyes.

"I didn't want to call you if it was nothing and ruin your birthday, which is exactly what ended up happening, and I'm sorry, Rafe-"

"Baby, no," he stops you immediately, leaning forward and grabbing your other hand as well, "Stop that. You didn't ruin anything. Listen to me."

You meet his eyes, bottom lip jutting out just enough to make his heart break in half. He smiles softly and then continues.

"Finding out that my girl and my baby are both healthy is the best present I could've gotten today, okay? That's all I ever want."

You nod and signal for a kiss, which he gives you. He releases one of your hands and presses it to your bump, stroking softly up and down. You smile, your mind wandering back to Rafe coming into the hospital earlier.

"Rafe," you almost whisper.

"Yeah?"

"You called me your wife," you smile.

"Huh?"

"When you came in here. You called me your wife," you repeat, watching as he remembers.

"Oh," he nods, and you watch his cheeks grow pink, "I - yeah, I did, huh?"

You grin, "Yeah."

His smile matches yours, and he leans in closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Is that okay?" he whispers in your ear.

"It's perfect," you say.

He grins and kisses you once again, sure that the smile on his face will be permanent as long as he has you.

"We should go tell everyone that everything's okay," you say, sitting up.

"Do you feel up to standing right now?" he asks, not letting go of your hand.

You nod and let Rafe help you off the table, resisting the urge to fall into him and remain in his arms for as long as possible. He presses a kiss to your forehead.

"I know how I want to spend the rest of my birthday," he whispers against your skin, "In bed. With lots of fluids. Resting."

"Rafe," you whine, "It's your birthday. Let the boys take you out or something."

"Oh, and a movie. And a nice, balanced meal. Maybe some ice cream later," he continues, as if you'd never spoken.

You roll your eyes playfully and look up at him, finding a smile on his face.

"I love you," you whisper.

"I love you, too," he replies with a squeeze of your hand, "Come on. We should get you home."

You nod and let him lead you out of the room, knowing that no matter what you say or how you encourage him, you're probably not going to be out of his sight for even a second for the remainder of your pregnancy. Yet, no part of you seems to mind that in the slightest.

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curly-bangtan · 4 years

Text

Heatwave Anniversary Drabble: i miss u like ... a lot (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! but this drabble can be read alone

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: One night until Taehyung is back from his boys’ trip but you miss him too much.

Genre: fluff, smut, kinda crack?, boyfriend/established relationship au

Warnings: unprotected sex (oc on contraception so don’t u do it), teasing over the phone, riding and grinding, just kinda vanilla i-missed-u-so-much sex, a particular selca

Word count: 5k

A/N: It was Heatwave’s one year anniversay on the 17th so I decided to write a quick(?) drabble for this. I fully intended on posting this on time, but wanted to change up some stuff so only managed to finish this now. Happy birthday to my first fic and forver my baby!

MOSTLY UNEDITED

The absolute one thing you hate most about your boyfriend being away from you is your boyfriend being away from you.

You have never been the clingy needy type, that is more his role in this relationship, nor are you really one to show affection. In fact, you would hate for that false image to be perceived of you because all that sappy shit makes you want to throw up your dinner. But one thing you’ve learnt since Taehyung had gone away on a week-long boys’ trip down by the coast is how cold the house feels in his absence, despite being in the middle of a sizzling summer.

Everything is so eerily quiet without his random outbursts into song and fits of laughter. Having spent 3 years living together, you have gotten so used to his constant presence that you had even caught yourself several times calling out for him only to remember that he isn’t here. Waking up without his arm draped around your waist, slided up your top at some point during the night, impacts you more than you’d like to admit.

Are you glad that he’s having a great time with his friends by the beach, relaxing all day and drinking all night? Of course. Are you having a great time all by yourself over here in the absence of your boyfriend? Certainly not.

Though, of course, this isn’t something you would confess to out loud, especially to him. He doesn’t need to know how often the thought: ugh fuck, I miss Tete is crossing your mind, lest you want him to rub his smugness in your face.

It isn’t just that. Your relationship hasn’t been without its tests in the course of its years and things have only finally stabilised. It’s not that you don’t trust Taehyung to be with his ladish friends for seven days, shirtless dusk till dawn, intoxicated to the point where he calls you thinking that you’re the pizza delivery guy but…

A hammered Taehyung at a beach full of girls who are no doubt thirsting over him leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You trust him to be loyal to his core, but you don’t trust anyone else to keep their hands from copping a feel. No matter how you look at it, you would just so much rather he be at home with you right now.

You have endured this for six days. Six full days without Taehyung. Six full days with no sex, no tummy kisses, no clammy hand holding even though you’re only to get groceries. Just one more night and this torture will fucking be over, praise the lord. But you also don’t know how much more you can hold back that I miss you text because you’re combusting from the need to see him again.

It’s almost 4am. Your sleep schedule is fucked and it’s really his fault.

The bright screen of your phone offers the only luminescence at this hour. Your messages from him in the past week have not been shy of your daily dose of Taehyung - clips of the beach (always mischievously caption with something along the lines of “thinking of Mykonos ;D” where you went on your first holiday together), selfies that you dwell way too long staring at because you miss that face buried in your neck, drunk videos of the antics him and the boys get up to that you’ll definitely chastise him for when he comes back yet can’t help but laugh at. You find yourself scrolling through them every single night.

Your personal favourite: a pouty selfie he sent you after he dropped his ice cream, the picture you always go back to and the one you’re staring at right now. His hair is frizzy from the sea, lips jutted out childishly and cheeks puffy. Your chest constricts, fuck...

Just one more night, you remind yourself. And then he’s back and all yours again.

Then suddenly, the phone in your hand vibrates, short and abrupt. The bar slides down from the top of your screen reading New Message from Tete. Surprised, you scramble to open it, maybe a bit too desperately for you to be proud of.

04:11

Tete: bby

You blink at those three letters, lips pressed together because your heart is cinching.

Tete: ur prob aslep rn but

Tete: i missu

Tete: <334

The typos indicate that he is wasted, and you take a guess that he has just returned from their last night out of the holiday. The corners of your lips turn up knowing that he is thinking of you right now.

You: no im awake

Your fingers are itching to reply with i miss u too, and it takes all your willpower and stubbornness to stay true to your steadfast self. There is just something so unpleasantly moist about these kinds of texts, something that makes you cringe and gag when you read them. You refuse to be one of those people. A heart is all that you allow yourself to reply.

You: <3

You: r u drunk?

Tete: drunk in love

Tete: yes

A giggle escapes you at his god awful cheesiness - drunk, sober alike. Insufferable. But probably Taehyung’s most endearing quality.

You: did u have fun!!

Tete: yeah

Tete: but i miss u

Tete: more than i had fun

God, you feel like a teenager again, suddenly overcome with this gushing urge to roll over and scream into your pillow. You’re glad he’s merely texting this to you right now because if he had said this to you face to face, your skin would most definitely stain scarlet from neck to hairline, scalding to the touch. Even months into officially being his girlfriend, these curveballs of overwhelming affection throw you off guard.

Again, the compulsion to tell him you miss him too yanks at your heartstrings. You truly don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say how you feel, let yourself be soft and vulnerable. You know it’s one of your flaws so it’s something that you’re working on, but you can’t say you’ve made much progress.

But just as you decide that maybe you should take the plunge, suck it up and just text him those three words, he sends you a picture.

Tete:

No, not just a picture. A selfie, of him in bed, shirtless under the covers. “Oh, fuck…”

Hand clasped over your mouth to prevent any sound from involuntarily escaping, it takes a moment for your breath to return to you and for you to stop gawking. At this hour… Really? Is he seriously doing this to you right now?

His sleepy eyes. His messy curls. And his fucking nose mole.

The undoing of your existence.

Tete: this boy misses u :]

You: bruh

You: bruhhhhhhh

You: taehyung

Tete: oui my lady :))

You: 👁👄👁

You: can u not do this to my heart

You: y did u send me this </333

You: what was the reason

Tete: coz i miss u

Tete: do u like it

Tete: :D

‘Do u like it’... Actually, you have tears in your eyes, albeit mostly due to staring at a screen for too long so late at night, but it’s certainly contributed by this selfie. You tell yourself you’re acting out because it’s been six days since you last saw him. Perhaps Taehyung Withdrawal Symptoms is the explanation behind why you want to print and frame this picture because that is definitely not a normal reaction to a picture. But this is a masterpiece.

You: taehyung my soul left my body

You: like i could weep

You: u look so soft and fluffy

You: :’(

Tete: lollll

Tete: simp

This boy has some nerve?! Simp! He called you a simp?! Laughing like a maniac, you can’t even pretend to be mad at him, not after this picture he sent anyway. So you guess you are a simp. This selfie is your kryptonite.

Tete: jkjkkkkk

You: hahahaha

You: y r u doing this to me

You: its 4am

You: u can’t send me this rn

You: i won’t be able to sleep

Tete: o yeah how come ur still up?

Tete: go to sleepppp

You: can’t sleep

Tete: aw no whyyy

Because you miss him that’s why.

You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss Tete. You miss your boyfriend, your best friend, your other half. You miss his touch, his smile, his wide eyes when he’s confused. You miss his morning snuggles and late night kisses. You miss the way he hugs you from behind as you prepare your meals. You miss the wandering hands that he can’t help when you’re out in public. You miss playing PUBG together until the sun comes out then both sleeping past noon. You miss taking baths together where bubbles would get into your mouth as your kisses get heated.

You just miss him.

It’s only been six days and you’re in this state. What has he done to you?

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you let out a great sigh and deflate. No other reason offers itself for you to be awake at this hour; he knows you cherish sleep above anything. Teeth digging into your lip, you inhale long and hard, then exhale the gust of your cowardice. It’s not that deep, stupid. Fuck it.

You: coz

You: i miss u

You: like … a lot

You: 🙄

It’s final - you guess you’ve become a mushy wet sap. Truly it is embarrassing how big of a step this is for you; but the sense of pride and accomplishment feels oddly validating. Baby steps. The eye-rolling emoji right after is subconscious because you could only betray the core of your character that much. Forgo it and taehyung might not believe that it’s you.

Tete: omg

Tete: :D

Tete: rrly?

You: *blank kissy emoji*

Tete: wow

Tete: u actually don’t know how hard i’m smiling rn

You: simp

Tete: ofc that’s my middle name

Tete: i miss u a lot too

Tete: like a lotttttt

Tete: i’ll show u how much when i’m back

Ah… Of course, the Taehyung specialty - smothering you with his affection. You freeze at the thought of his wildfire kisses and head between your thighs. Nothing screams of how much you’ve missed each other more than a good dicking down, climax after climax until you’re both panting messes of sweat and entangled limbs. The anticipation makes you squirm under the sheets, legs pressing together.

You: pls do

You: i need u

It’s uncertain what spirit has possessed you at this ungodly hour for these words to come out of you. There’s an instant flash of ickiness, but you let the self-cringing simmer and dissipate into the realisation that this is okay, this is normal. Taehyung’s your boyfriend, couples text like this. You need to grow some.

Tete: fuck baby

Tete: i’m so not used to u texting like this, it's driving me crazy

You: crazy how *cat smirk*

If you weren’t smiling before, you’re definitely grinning like an idiot now. His reaction is predictable, yet oddly still, an incredible wave of satisfaction hits you. And because you want to savour this moment, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, you send him a picture of yourself.

Camisole strap slid off your shoulder, hair splayed out, bottom lip deep red from biting down on it too much. Just to return the favour.

Tete: y/n

Tete: call me now

-Incoming call from Tete-

Laughing to yourself, you wait a good few seconds before picking up to prolong his torture. “Yes, Taehyung?” You put your thumb between your teeth to suppress the laughter.

“Fuck.” Against the silence of the night, the low rasp of his voice permeating into you from the speaker of your phone sends tingles up your toes. You’ve fucking missed his voice more than you thought. “Y/N… You can’t do this to me.”

“I told you, I miss you. Like… a lot.” The saccharine tone in your reply is foreign to your own ears, but you like the sound of it and the deep rumble it elicits from your boyfriend.

“How much?” Taehyung eggs you on. His words are barely slurred, so you gather that he has sobered up at least for the most part by now. Yet there is still a slowness to it that suggests

“Hmm, like… I touched myself every night at the thought of you a lot.”

A sharp inhale. Then silence. But you know better so you give him a moment to gather himself.

“You shouldn’t be putting that image in my head.” Exasperation is evident in his voice, desperate and yearning. You can imagine him now, one hand on his phone, the other sliding over his pants that are getting a bit too tight for comfort. Your breath hitches.

“Then you shouldn’t have sent me that picture, Taehyung…”

“You said it was soft and fluffy. What you sent me back was not soft and fluffy.”

“Just because it’s soft doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn me on. You do things to me… okay?” Heat trapped beneath the skin of your cheeks, your grip on the phone against your ear slackening as your thighs rub together.

“Fuck, I’m getting hard, baby…” Nothing gets him going more than the knowledge that he turns you on, it’s his weakness but somewhat his strength.

“That’s… unfortunate. Are you going to do something about it?”

His gulp is audible even over the phone. “Uh…” A sigh. “Um. Maybe. Thoughts are being thought.”

“What kind of thoughts? Thoughts about me touching myself and moaning your name? Thoughts about how much I wish my fingers were your cock thrusting so deep into me that I feel it in my guts? Or are you thinking about what you’ll do to me when you’re back tomorrow? Fucking my mouth until I’m crying or filling me up with your cum first?” Your hips buckle at the filth leaving your mouth. This is more like you; you haven’t abandoned your nature after all.

“Oh, fuckkkk.” His moan resonates into your skull, not quite as if he’s here with you but good enough to fill your desire. “Y/N… I need you so badly.” Breath ragged, you hear movement of his sheets in the background as he adjusts into a more comfortable position.

“Are you stroking your cock right now?” A warm slick oozes out of your own entrance. There’s something about Taehyung masturbating to you that elevates you to a different kind of high.

“What do you think, baby?” As you listen closely, you hear the slow rhythm of his pumping, and your fingers ache to pleasure yourself. ‘The things I’ll fucking do to you when I’m back.”

“Mmm, but it’s late, Taehyung, why don’t we go to sleep.”

“Wait, what?” The stroking stops instantly and surprise in his voice releases a smug satisfaction into your veins. The equivalent of pouring a bucket of ice water over his head right now. Teasing is an old undying habit, what can you say? “You wanna end the call now?”

“Yeah, we should sleep, babe.” Grin unsuppressed, you turn over onto your side, probably a bit too pleased with yourself at your success. Taehyung is an easy victim always.

“What the fuckkk?” Your boyfriend groans. “You’re seriously going to tease me this hard then leave me high and dry?” When you offer no more response than a sly chuckle, he add, “You’re so evil.”

“Save it for tomorrow, Taehyung. Think about it, we’re one sleep away from seeing each other again.”

“Fuck, I know. But you just got me so fucking horny, bruhhh. I thought we were gonna have phone sex.” You are still laughing at his whining, basking in the victory you’re holding over him.

“Taehyung, save it for the real sex.” The idea of phone sex crossed your mind several times to be honest, but you really want to collect every single drop of desire and longing and unleash it tomorrow. Raw and pent up. Nothing to dampen the fire.

A sigh of defeat down the line. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know?” You know. “How am I supposed to sleep now though? I’m so rock hard that it hurts.”

“You can figure that out yourself, big guy.” Your cheeks ache from smiling for too long; they often do during calls with him. “One sleep away, okay?”

“Ugh, fine, you demon. I can’t believe you sometimes.” He lets out another sigh. Your heart skips at the anticipation of how he will punish you for this. “Good night, I miss you.”

“Good night, I miss you more.” There’s a sudden change of tone with these words. Because you truly mean it. Sex and physical intimacy aside, you really just missed his voice, his banter.

You fall asleep almost immediately.

You don’t think you’ve heard a sweeter sound than the keys rattling at the door the next day. Practically leaping off the couch where you had been awaiting him in your Taeyhyung-less boredom, you run to the door.

As it swings open, heat courses to your chest when your eyes land on his, so full of comfort. Your boyfriend is home. Handsome as ever, much more tanned than your memory of him and much more attractive. White t-shirt and loose black shorts, a mundane outfit that only he could make look exceptional.

And as much as you want to sprint up and throw yourself onto him, your feet stay planted on the floor.

“Hey.” You barely breathe out.

Stay calm and composed, you tell yourself. It was only one week without him, it’s not like he’s returning from war.

But Taehyung doesn’t even reply, because in two long strides he is standing before you, bags tossed to the side, a sign of their insignificance in the presence of you. His arms find their home circled around you, face buried in your hair before you can utter another word. You don’t hesitate to return his embrace, holding his waist as you let yourself fall into his chest. He smells like what summer should, the ocean, sweat and young love; his familiar musk greeting you as if he never left.

Your lips meet his, strong and full of intent. He’s so unexpectedly soft when he kisses back, a timeless romantic dance like he is saviour your taste on his tongue.

With your weight leaning on him, he slowly topples back, stepping hastily until your bodies land on the couch. You fit your legs on either side of him as you burrow your nose in his neck and breathe him in, memorise him. In nothing but a large shirt, your bare thighs are exposed for his roaming.

When you pull away and face each other, you are struck by his beauty. His skin is sun-kissed and glowing, hair an effortlessly beautiful mess, the slightest hint of a stubble peeking through below his nose. Your heart belongs to him forever, you know it without a doubt.

“You smell so good. I missed you so much, baby.” And his voice… That deep baritone honey that you have taken for granted all this time - music to your ears.

“Imissedyoutoo…” You mumble, shy under his undivided attention and mercilessly unbroken eye contact.

With your chests pressed together, his chuckle rumbles into you. “What was that?”

“I missed you too… I guess.” Face flaming, you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at your admittance, fingers twirling around his curls to preoccupy yourself.

But he cups your chin and turns your face to him, forehead pressing up to yours until your noses are touching, breaths mixing. “That’s not what you said last night.” Taehyung smirks, hands sliding down to your waist, the material of your shirt bunching up in his hands. “Do I need to remind you?”

“No…” You find yourself unable to keep your eyes open, your core pulsing mercilessly as you grind onto him. “How are you already hard, Taehyung…” And though you mean to scold him, it comes out breathless.

Lips hovering, he traces the edge of your jaw, tingling the sensitive little hairs on its way to your ear. When he reaches the shell of your ear, warm breath infiltrating so relentlessly into you, you almost lose yourself right there on his lap. “Don’t you know how much I love you?” He whispers.

“Show me.” Is all you make out.

His hands are already beneath your shirt before you even notice, palms kneading into your breasts as he takes your nipples between his two fingers and rolls. As he kisses you again, the same tenderness exchanges between your lips. It’s a different kind of desperation to be so slow and gentle, one that means so much more than sex, one that’s telling of how much you truly missed each other. Your hips roll with a mind of their own over him. One hand of his comes down to your ass, guiding the waves of your rocking. And each time his stiff clothed member digs into your clit, you whimper into his mouth.

Carefully, Taehyung rolls you over onto your back, sucking your bottom lip to keep the seal from breaking. He pulls away when he’s on top of you, and a string of glistening saliva bridges between your mouths. “Foreplay or no? Tell me what you want?” Compliant as ever.

“I need you to fill me up right now. Anything else can wait.” You watch the devotion ignite in his eyes. His fingers are in a hurry as they pull your panties off, knees spreading your legs open as he kneels between your gaping entrance. He tugs his shirt off from the collar, such smoothness in his action that your insides coil up. His newly-bronzed rich skin revealed, you can’t help but reach up and run your hands down from chest to navel, revelling in his blemishless ridges.

A low sound reverberates from the back of Taehyung’s throat as your touch travels down to unbutton his shorts. They fall loose. His hard throbbing members springs free, a glistening bead oozing from his slit. “You didn’t wear boxers?”

When you glance up, you notice his sheepish grin. He presses his mouth onto yours, still smiling, guiding you back onto your back. “I just couldn’t wait.” Taehyung whispers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, especially since last night… Ah, fuck.” Another deep groan erupts from him as you reach down and slather that bead of precum all over his tip. His head falls onto your neck, writhing under your merciless stroking.

His tip brushing against your clit, your toes curls at the teasing of your weakness, hips jolting up involuntarily and perhaps a bit too violently. You’re so embarrassingly sensitive after this many days without Taehyung, and he notices from your breathless reaction. Smirking, he takes his shaft in his hand and runs his stiff head over your clit mercilessly. And as you roll your head back helplessly, he nibbles onto your exposed neck, faint stubble grazing your skin.

“Quit the teasing…” You whine, unable to withstand the build up of twisting pressure begging to be fulfilled between your legs. “Just put-”

Taehyung pushes himself into you so abruptly that you yelp. And there it is, that mind-melting stretch of your walls that you’ve so much missed. “Fuck, Taehyung…” Your entire core feels ablaze, so numbing that your nails dig into the leather of the couch before they find grip on his arms.

“Like that, baby?” His voice his strained, as if he’s struggling not to lose his mind as well.

Nodding because you can’t make out a word as he slowly pulls out, you grab his face and pull him up to meet your lips. You whimper into him mouth when he rams into you again, hitting your walls in full force, no mercy. His kiss doesn’t lose its sincerity despite the juxtaposition of his vigorous thrusts, though you can’t say that he is quite as gentle with as before. You pinch his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it as your fingers get lost in his hair.

After seven days of deprevation of his cock, your cunt is leaking with the fluid of your arousal, aiding in the ease of each plunge. You feel the stiffness of his ridges pulling you open as he slides in and out of you. “Fuck…” He pants, mouth hovering over yours.

“Let me get on top.” Taehyung’s eyes flash at your suggestion, instantly rolling onto his back. He slips out during the switch of position and the wetness of your cunt is assailed by a sudden rush of cool air.

You swing your leg over and mount him, watching him watch you pump his dick, your own liquid slathered over him sticky in your hand. Letting his member fall against his abdomen, you grind over him between your folds, hands splayed out over his chest. The friction created each time your clit would slide over the thin pinch of skin where his tip unfolded into his shaft has Taehyung a groaning mess.

He looks remarkable under you.

You push his sweat-dampened curls out of his forehead, eyes half closed in euphoria, half watching you roll your cunt so lewdly over his length. You know you could make him cum like this if you continue. But you want him to cum inside you first, you want to feel that thick hot spurt of his desire shoot again and again into you until his cock is twitching.

So slowly, lubricated by your wetness, you sink inch by inch down until the skin of your ass meets his thighs. This angle fuck with your mind; you think you feel him at your cervix. Then your hips start to do what they know best, pounding over him with a rhythm that you’re proud of.

Taehyung grabs hold of your waist, your breasts, fury in his eyes as he watches you ride him with such determination. “I love you so much.” He heaves between heavy breaths.

“I love you, I missed you more than you could imagine.” You huff, thumb running over his red swollen lips.

“I love when you admit it.” He sits up and takes the swell of your breast in his mouth, making his way to your nipples where his tongue relentlessly flickers over.

Your thighs are starting to burn, core aching because his cock is thrusting up into you so deep that you feel it in your guts. The signs are appearing - your vision is going hazy, walls squeezing tightly around him, tangle upon tangles knoting in your stomach. His are too - his head is slumped against your chest, arms crossed behind your back as he holds you close to him, whole body starting to tense as he begins to curse.

Pace quickening, you don’t let the tire of your muscles stop you from your chase. The slap of your skins ringing in your ears, you keep riding, cunt swallowing his cock whole each bounce. Taehyung breaks first. “Fuck!” He calls out into your neck. His cum squirts into you, pulse after pulse, your boyfriend’s hips jolting each thrust.

“I’m so close, babe, keep going for me.” You plead, knowing how sensitive he is right after his climax. He nods wordlessly, face still buried in you hair. The lubrication of his cum abolishes any resistance, letting you slide over him easier than sitting down. And not five thrusts later, your own coil snaps. You through your head back at the wave of pleasure that drowns you, your entire core on fire as your moans echo through the room. It takes maybe twenty seconds for your walls to stop throbbing and for the orgasm to slowly die down.

Taehyung is already growing limp inside you after his orgasm. “Thank you.” You whisper against his forehead while you dismount. His cum flows out of your slit and down the insides of your thighs, but he refuses to let go of you.

When he looks up, you are struck by an overwhelming sensationf of adoration. His long dark curls fall slightly over his eyes, in disarray but just the way you like it. His eyes are so full of genuine love and gratitude of having you that you can’t help but capture him with your lips. “No, thank you.” He mumbles against you, falling back onto the couch with you in his embrace.

After a long kiss of after-sex affection, you pull away before it leads to a second round. “I want you to know that I really missed you a lot. I can’t even call you a big baby anymore because I stared at all the pictures you sent me every night till the sun came out.”

Taehyung’s boyish smile melts your heart. You’ve missed him way too much. His smile, his goofy comments, his tender kisses. “My heart… is squeezing…” If his smile doesn’t tell how smitten he is, his eyes definitely do. “I missed you so much too. All the boys made fun of me for being such a wettie ‘coz I couldn’t shut up about you.” The thought is so endearing that you can’t help but hide your face.

“So how was your trip? Plenty of hot girls drooling after you?” Trick question of course, you know that for a fact already.

“Haha, it was good, fun. Bet you couldn’t sleep ‘coz you were trembling from jealousy.” Scoffing you land a smack on his chest. “But nah, no hot girls. Nowadays there’s only one hot girl in my eyes.”

Your own lips spread like a cheshire cat. “Shut up, cutie.”

“Rachel McAdams.”

“Let go of me. Don’t even touch me.”

A/N: Moral of the story, never sit on their couch if you’re a guest at the Heatwave house.

24/08/20

@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @shimtatae @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @yes-another-wannabe-hipster-blog @deliciouslydisturbed365 @getmemyfries @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @angelswrld @expensive-bangtan-girl @icyi-sky @gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @monixreal @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @xblackclover13x @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams @camilaxpolanco @d-noona @haechanspudu @dawnispeace @vante-visuals @liquanzhe222 @bangtanloverrrrr @bs14401 @seokjoontae @comingjimin @jeonsshadow @honeyspillings @taeshotteok @embrace-themagic @wataemelonz @ftvante @kth-jae @sintatae @lunarnovaa @reputae @imajinative @haosmull8 @sssaltyasian @brilliantlybasicb @devilsadvocater @ladyartemesia @btsglitter @besosalvolar @jayparkjustchokeme @johnnyseotolemyheart @bubblegumyuss @octo-donut @ftvante @gia-the-mermaid @miss-peys @fantasticallyabnormal @purplestar00paintblotch @taetaeismybaebae @jooachu @bringitseijoh @bboyseventeenn @lpayne612 @misohime @petuliii @slutdropjin @kyelamarie

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ksuew · 3 years

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The Rookie 4x01 Life and Death Recap ****Spoiler city****

I promised a friend a recap, since she can’t watch until tomorrow, so I figured I might as well post it for anyone who wants to see it? I never can figure out a read more break on mobile so fair warning, DON’T LOOK IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILERS 😁

This is just a rough draft thing, so it’s probably full of typos.

@hamburgerheroes @piratesbooty63fan

Phew… crazy first episode. Unfortunately I was fielding calls and texts about a work issue the whole time so my viewing was very disjointed. So I’m rewatching as I type this recap for you.

The episode is preceded with a recap, of course. Then the opening scene is Chen, Bradford, Nolan, and Harper in tactical gear approaching a warehouse.

While waiting for the go order from Grey, grey has flashbacks of a few hours earlier. They realize Lopez and West are both missing, they find out La Fiera has escaped and assume she took them, then they get security footage of the kidnapping and are watching it at the station, still in their wedding attire. As we suspected. The footage shows Lopez being put in a vehicle and West struggling, then shot in the back, then stuffed into the trunk. Everyone is in shock, Lucy is crying.

Lots of fans are really upset about Jackson, and I get it. But the show runner and writers had no choice. Here’s excerpts from an interview with Alexi

At this point, we’re back to Grey a different officer wants to wait, but Grey says it’s been 3 hours and they need to move fast and orders them in.

They breach the warehouse, find an empty get away car and Angela’s wedding dress on the floor. Lucy moves to pick it up, Nolan stops her, there is a trip wire to explosives under the SUV. They leave the warehouse and realize they had a plane waiting there from the tracks it left.

Next we see La Fiera, Angela, and her female goon in the airplane. Angela assumes they’re going to Guatemala so she can torture and kill her slowly, but La Fiera tells her (as we suspected) that she’ll be kept alive until Angela safely delivers her (La Fiera’s) baby (of course)

Next Grey and Wesley are meeting with a DEA bigwig who essentially says, we ain’t helping. Next they arrive in the compound in Guatemala and talk about how impenetrable it is, etc. She meets the doctor who will be attending her. Angela tries to tell the doctor not to touch her and La Fiera says if she resists she will be sedated for the rest of the pregnancy.

Back at the station Lucy is talking with Nolan, beating herself up about not seeing the trip wire. She’s really just upset about Jackson, she says she can’t believe he’s gone and she and Nolan hold hand for a moment.

Tim and Harper join them and discuss if Lopez is still alive and why. Lucy comes up with the theory that La Fiera wants Angela’s baby as the ultimate revenge. Grey tells them the DEA won’t help. They talk about how Jackson scratched his killer and they’re running DNA. Grey tells them all to go home and get some rest while they work on a plan. ***Chenford alert***

Lucy says she can’t go home and see Jackson’s empty room. Tim says, “you don’t have to, you can stay with me”

Dying!

She says she doesn’t want to impose and this is where he says she shouldn’t be alone right now. She says thanks, he says yeah, then she wonders how Wesley is holding up.

Cut to Wesley meeting with some bad guy and offering to turn dirty lawyer in exchange for finding out where Angela is. I do not like this development and what it can/will do to them in the future.

Cut to a short, weird interaction with Lopez and the female bodyguard then, back to Chenford.

We see Tim in his jammies, setting up his couch to sleep on. The house looks different than I remember it and surely it has at least 2 bedrooms, so why the couch 🤷🏻‍♀️. Anyway. He looks adorable in his jammies. He says, “I’ll take the couch”. Lucy walks out of presumably his bedroom and says she thought he was setting up the couch for her. He says he’s not going to have a guest sleep on the couch and she says she’s not going to kick him out of his bed. He says okay, gets up. Looks a bit awkward, a bit nervous. Asks her if she needs anything. She says “the last 24 hours back”, he says he doesn’t have that power. She says, “a hug” and he says, “yeah. Come here” in a soft voice that nearly made me combust! He hugs her. As they go to part things get all UST, he croaks out “night”, can’t quite meet her eyes. Meanwhile she’s definitely got the “realization” light bulb starting to go off slowly. Still a bit confused. He goes to his room and flops into bed. Obviously affected by what just happened. she is the same out on the couch. Fidgety with nervous energy. He looks toward the door like he’s about to go back out there to her, say something more (do something more?) she looks toward his door from the couch, obviously contemplating same. Back to him purposefully looking away from the door, back to her making her decision. She’s pushing the covers off about to go to his door, when his door suddenly opens. He’s on the phone saying “yeah, okay, we’ll be right there”. She tries to pretend she wasn’t already up and moving toward the door. He says Wesley knows where Angela is and they head into the station.

Oh man, it was sooo gooood!!!

Next it’s the Wesley telling them that he knows where they’re holding Angela. They all say they want to help, but Grey says how’re we gonna do that . They bring up “Max” the covert government guy from the counterfeit money case. Grey says fine, reach out. He tasks Tim, Harper, and John to start tactical plan and says Lucy will stay with him to run the murder case. Then he takes a moment to congratulate Nolan on officially becoming a P2. They get the DNA back, the killer is a 17 year old kid.

Government guy shows up at Nolan’s they coerce him into helping. They go to Guatemala separately from Wesley who is supposed to get a meeting with La Fiera without getting killed. Nyla and Tim look hot playing with military surveillance toys while John steals the plans to La Fiera’s compound from the architect.

Lucy and Grey go after the killer. Grey has a really great scene after cornering the killer and he and Lucy take him in.

Back at the compound Wesley gets to see Angela. John tells Nyla and Tim that he has the plans and there’s a weakness, but the drone shows that the weakness has been fixed so they have to go to plan B. Nyla does not like plan B!

Cut to a very sad scene of Lucy finally going home and looking at Jackson’s room as he left it. Tim calls, says they’re going to plan B. Lucy, as well, does not like plan B. She says to give her a minute to get set up. Tim then radios government guy Max, who also does not like plan B. They decide on a different extraction point and he reminds them if they aren’t there at the agreed upon time they will be left behind.

They alert Wesley with fireworks. Turns out plan B is him injecting Angela with pitocin to start contractions so that they’ll have to transport her out of the compound to the hospital. Nyla will have a drug to counterreact the pitocin at the hospital.

Unfortunately, they separate Angela and Wesley. He’s put in a different car to take him away and kill him so Nolan goes after Wesley while Tim and Nyla get set up at the hospital. Lucy is tapped into a satellite giving them info on the vehicles, etc. Tim says, thanks, we got it from here”. Lucy says, “Tim”, the tension clear in her voice. “Please be careful”. With more significance than just one officer to another. He’s in business mode and replies, “I always am”.

Bradford and Harper ambush LaFiera et al. Angela gets into the hospital with Tim and Nyla and gives Angela the reversal shot. As they make their escape to the helicopter LaFiera follows and fires on them, grazing Angela’s leg, she turns and shoots La Fiera, killing her. They make it to the chopper, tell Max they need to get Wesley and Nolan, he says no, they all point their guns at him and he decides to make the stop.

Wesley and Nolan fight their two bad guys (Nolan simply must save the day in each episode). They make it to the chopper, everyone is safe and they get the hell out of dodge.

Then, the time jump. It’s 3 months later and Angela and Wesley are arriving home from the hospital with their son to a surprise welcome home party with Grey, Nolan, Harper, and Chen. They’ve stocked their freezer and bought them a second freezer and stocked that too. Tim is happy and relaxed. Lucy is a bit overly cheerful, it’s obviously a bit forced. She and Nyla present Angela with a basket full of teas and herbs and cookies tailored to uterine health and breast milk production (as she would). Nyla admits that it was all Lucy when she walks away. That it was good for Lucy to concentrate on something positive. This makes Angela turn a bit sad and reflective. The show ends with Angela holding her baby and standing at Jackson’s grave updating him on her life and how she misses him and hopes by the time her leave is over that she’ll be able to face the station without him in it. She then reveals (again, as we suspected) that her baby’s name is Jackson😢

#the Rookie #the Rookie abc #the Rookie spoilers #the rookie 4x01 #Lucy Chen #tim bradford #john nolan #Jackson west #sergeant grey #Wesley Evers #chenford #chenford spoilers

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just-some-random-blogger · 3 years

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One Million In One Day | 9

GOT7 SugarDaddy!Jackson Wang x Reader + Park Jinyoung x Reader | Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Characters: GOT7 Summary: His mother’s final wish is to see him be happy in a relationship, knowing that Jackson would be fine when she left him. But, damn, he didn’t have time for relationships, especially not since he was busy running his father’s billion dollar empire, thus the compromise: you. Word Count: <2k Warnings: Stalking, fighting, cursing, mentioning of illness, TYPOS, etc.

A/N: HI IT”S BEEN SO LONG BUT HERE IT IS HKASHFKAFA

I’m tagging @tia-m94 because, well, she wanted to be HAHA, and I was looking for all the other messages I got about updating this but I can’t seem to find them, so yeah, if you wanna be tagged in the last chapter just ell me cos I’m actually planning on posting that soon as well.

It’s been two weeks since Jinyoung stopped talking to us, and I’ve had enough of it. He’s neither replied to my or Mark’s texts while clearly holding his phone in class, so obviously he wants us to know that he’s ignoring us.

Once Mr. Choi says class dismissed, I grabbed my things and jogged over to the other side of the room for him. He was still fixing up his things when I arrived and the blank expression he had somehow fell.

I move over to him once his row is cleared and call out to him, “Jinyoung.”

Much unlike him, he takes all his things and shoves it into his bag, out of spite. But it was too unlike his nature. He sighs and begins to fix it inside, not paying attention to me.

“I’m sorry that I upset you.”

Jinyoung glares at me, “you’re sorry? For what?”

I bite my lower lip and huff, “Jinyoung... please don’t be like this.”

Jinyoung scoffs, “you still don’t get it, do you.”

“Could you please just tell me? I don’t like becoming your enemy.”

“Do you? From what I can tell you don’t care at all for me.”

I pull back from his tight remark and frown, “how could you say that...”

Jinyong's eyes are on fire as he watches my expression in disgust, “You can’t play with me, just because we’re friends.”

“I’m not playing with you," I manage weakly.

Jinyoung rolls his eyes and finally fixes all his things and storms past me. I let him have a head start and run after him right after.

The moment I caught up with him, I grab onto his arm and blurt, “there’s only one thing I can think of... but I have no idea how you’d know.”

Jinyoung finally stops and turns to me.

I feel my feel tears well up in my eyes and I pull him to the side. Jinyoung looks down at me as I fiddle my fingers. I scratch my eyes and turn to him, finding he dawned a different expression on his face.

“Do you know about..." I suck in a breath and whisper, "my sugar daddy?"

Jinyoung clenches his jaw for a moment, then lets out a breath, “... yes. I saw him take you out in his sports car when I was supposed to come over. I was already outside your door when I called.”

I bite my lower lip.

Jinyoung clenched jaw, "you lied to me that day. You said you were going to sleep in all day. You even had the audacity to say you had fun with me the day before."

I turn to him, hot tears streaming down my face. I desperately reason out, "but I did Jinyoung. I love hanging out with you no matter where or when."

Jinyoung turns away from me and I begin to feel like the world was staring at me at this point. I turn to my feet in shame and embarrassment.

"Then why did you lie?" Jinyoung starts again, not caring if the world could hear, "between your teeth, in front of my face? And you told Mark though, so it infuriates me even more."

I suck in a breath for courage and grab his hand, "can we talk at my apartment, please. Give me a chance to explain."

I dread that he will rip him hand away from me and spit at my face. But instead, he grips my wrist and sighs, leading me off.

When we get there, Jinyoung's keen eye notices all the differences in the place. He doesn't miss to note on it bitterly, "wah, you bought an oven too. How cute."

I frown and turn to him, "ya... I did it for you okay."

Jinyoung looks at me, bewildered, caught off guard.

I whine and wipe my face. I drop my bag to the floor and push the thought of missing class today away, "I bought an oven so we could make cheesecake, because I just like you so damn much. And I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean for you to see Jackson. And I had to tell Mark because I had to spend all the money he gave me or else I would lose it."

Jinyoung shakes his head and hands, "wait don't tell me the story like this. Tell me from the beginning, from the very start till now."

And so I do.

By the end of it, Jinyoung and I are sitting on the couch with an awkwardly small gap between us. I don't know what was going through his mind now, but what I did know was that he wasn't happy.

"So what, you're going to keep doing this? What if he asks you to marry you for the sake of his mom?"

I furrow my brows, "Jinyoung, he wouldn't do that. And besides, I think he won't ask me to come over anymore."

"But if he does, will you go?"

"... I can't just leave him."

Jinyoung turns sour, "you most definitely can. You have nothing in writing."

"But he's like a friend now..."

He scoffs, "so you like this Jackson guy?"

I bitterly reply without turning to him, "it's like you want me to make a neon sign that I like you, Jinyoung."

When he doesn't give a sassy retort, I feel my insides grind in fear. I manage to turn to him and my stomach drops when I see he's staring at me, "do you mean it?"

I frown.

"Or are you just saying things I want to hear to get a pass?"

I feel my eyes glass, "what?"

Jinyoung scoffs out a chuckle, "are you an idiot, or are you an idiot?"

"... ... Jinyoung ..."

He sighs, "you still don't get it, do you?" Jinyoung diminishes the gap between us and casually wipes the tears on my cheek away, "I like you so much, you big idiot."

I just look at him, dumbfounded, not really knowing what to say, up until a thought popped up in my head, "is that why you were so upset?"

Jinyoung rolls his eyes, "what do you think?"

It may have been misplaced and untimely, but my stomach swirls in butterflies and I begin to feel giddy.

"You have to stop seeing him though."

I feel pulled back by his sudden statement.

"I don't want you going around with some guy that has so much leverage over you. Especially not because you wanted to by me an over for stupid cheesecake, the hell?"

I open my mouth to protest, but Jinyoung cuts me off, “you’ve done enough, pabo. Now, for my sake,” he grabs my hand, “don’t see any other guy, but me.”

My heart races. My breath hitches.”

Jinyoung clears his throat, “so, can I be your boyfriend?”

I can’t help but bite my lip and snort at him for asking like that. I, instead on answering, do what I have thought of doing whenever he pouts, or whenever he smiles, or whenever he’s stressed, or whenever he’s teasing me. I move forward and peck his lips, placing a chaste kiss and smiling back at him.

Jinyoung doesn’t seem to be surprised by this, and only pushes me back to plant a deeper kiss on my lips. We reposition, so that my torso is facing him and so is his facing mine. I wind up leaning on the arm rest of the sofa and Jinyoung’s hands are latching themselves on my body. He stops midway and inhales, “I want you to answer me though, just so it’s clear we’re on the same page.”

I pretend to think about it, “... I dunno, commitment seems a little too much. Why not just be kissing buddies?”

Jinyoung raises his upper lip and makes an annoyed sound. He then tickles me where he had his hands and I jolt and wither at the assault.

“Okay! Okay!” I scream, making him cease and narrow his eyes at me, “you can be my boyfriend, Park Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung scoffs, “ya, you think you’re so cool? It’s an honor for you to be my girlfriend.”

I forfeit another reply and only pull him close. Jinyoung reciprocates immediately.

My mind is already hazy when he pulls away again, “I want to hear you say it--”

“Shut up, Jinyoung.”

It’s kinda funny how Jinyoung and I go about now. I remember telling Mark about it during class and how much he freaked out because of it.

It was kinda funny.

Much like I has anticipated, an entire month had passed and I didn't even really think about Jackson. That was up until I got a call one night from no other than my sugar daddy himself.

“Hello?” I answer immediately

“Hey--” his voice is thick and low, “I know this is short notice, but can I meet you right now?”

I pull my phone away to check the time. I see it’s about 9:30pm. I pull my phone back, “I dunno, Jackson. I’m kinda scared to go out at this time.”

“What if I pick you up?”

I think of Jinyoung for a moment, then I reply to Jackson, “okay.”

By the time Jackson arrives, I had texted Jinyoung that I would go out with Jackson for one last time. He was hesitant, but he said that he trusted me more than anything.

I went into Jackson’s car and he immediately just drives once I get in. I barely even have time to put my seatbelt on. I look at him and see his face is dishevelled.

I decide not to speak up until he parks in a 24/7 supermarket’s parking lot.

“My mom passed,” Jackson says, immediately breaking down.

For a moment I am stunned, and I have absolutely no idea what to do. Jackson is gripping the steering wheel as he crumbles and weeps. I then have the decency to reach out to him and rub his back. I want to speak, to say something, but I just feel like I shouldn’t.

It’s Jackson that bursts out again, “the day you met her, she said she was really tired from being so happy. I stayed with her that night, watching her drama. I slept on the couch. When I woke up, she... she was stiff and... and-”

I cover my face with my hands, “Jackson...”

“It’s like she was just waiting for that moment and-- I- I feel like if you hadn’t met her then, she’d... she’d still be waiting... and it conflicts me so much.”

I begin to feel tears fall from my eyes as well.

“You know, at the very least she’s not suffering anymore, and you made her happy,” Jackson shudders, turning to me with bloodshot eyes. He frowns, lips quivering, “oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ve just made everything so depressing.”

“No,” I take his hand, “what you feel right now is normal. You’ve just had a great loss. I’m glad that I got to meet her and made her happy, Jackson.”

He chuckles, “don’t you resent me for doing something like this.”

I shake my head, “no. In fact, let’s stop this agreement between us okay. If you ever need me, just call me as a friend, okay.”

Jackson pulls his hand away to slap it on his face, “oh lord, as if I deserve that.”

“Jackson-”

“No... I shouldn’t take advantage of you.”

“You’re not!” I say, “I want you to be my friend. You can hang out with me, Jinyoung, Mark, and Nari. I think it would be good for you, especially now. I can take you to cheap restaurants and let you borrow two dollar shirts. You’ll finally taste boxed wine.”

He begrudgingly chuckles at that. I give a smile.

For a moment, he just heaves. Jackson settles and turns to me, offering a sad smile, “thank you... for everything.”

“Thank you too.”

#got7 #got7 fanfic #jackson fanfic #jackson wang fanfic #jinyoung fanfic #park jinyoung fanfic #got7 moodboard #jackson moodboard #jinyoung moodboard #jackson wang daddy #sugar daddy!jacksong wang #sugar daddy jackson #jinyoung fluff #jackson angst #got7 fluff #got7 angst

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goldenxstylinson · 4 years

Text

Larry Song Parallels + analysis

(this is a post that’s going to be included in the masterpost. please do note that this is only a small part of the main post, so if you want a more in-depth explanation on these lyrics you’ll be able to check the post here once it’s published)

i tried to put these in a sort of chronological order because the more i listened to them, the more they all seemed part of the same story.

also, i’ve left out iicf and home because i’m solely focusing on parallels in lyrics and those songs are basically a response one to another. (i’ve only included a lyric from iicf that goes with another song)

wrote this at 5am and had to repost it because tumblr decided to remove it from the tags, fun. i’ll proofread it later so if there are any typos i apologize.

ESNY/ DLIBYH

Harry: I’ve been praying ever since New York

Louis: And I know you’ve left a part of you in New York under your bed in a box

MMITH/ KMM

Harry: Just take the pain away

Louis: I can ease the pain

SHE/ HABIT

Harry: And she sleeps in his bed/ While he plays pretend

Louis: I took some time 'cause I've ran out of energy/ Of playing someone I heard I'm supposed to be

TBSL/ DEFENCELESS

Harry: And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch/ Who can't admit when he's sorry

Louis: And I can't get inside when you're lost in your pride/ But you don't have a thing to prove

TWO GHOSTS/ TOO YOUNG

Harry: We're not who we used to be

Louis: But everything's feeling different now

FTDT/ JUST LIKE YOU

Harry: Woke up the girl who looked just like you

Louis: I wanna lay where she lays

(while some of you might consider this a stretch, I actually think these pair up quite nice and you’ll see why)

FTDT, FALLING/ WALLS

Harry: Woke up alone in this hotel room; played with myself, where were you?/ I'm in my bed and you're not here

Louis: Nothing wakes you up like waking up alone

MMITH/ HABIT

Harry: Just let me know, I’ll be at the door, at the door

Louis: That mentally, you were already out the door

FTDT/ TOO YOUNG

Harry: Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry too

Louis: I’m sorry that I hurt you, darling

FINE LINE/ TOO YOUNG

Harry: You’ve got my devotion but man I can hate you sometimes

Louis: It’s hard to think you could ever hate me

TPWK/ HABIT

Harry: Givin' second chances

Louis: I know you said that you'd give me another chance

MMITH/ WE MADE IT

Harry: Maybe we’ll work it out

Louis: We were only kids, just tryna work it out

TWO GHOSTS/ TOO YOUNG

Harry: Fridge light washes this room white

Louis: Face to face at the kitchen table

FALLING/ TOO YOUNG, DEFENCELESS

Harry: And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say

Louis: I'm tryna find some better words to say/ Tryna find what to say to you/ Not sure how to say this right

IICF/DEFENCELESS

Harry: Right now I'm completely defenceless

Louis: Never been so defenceless

FALLING/HABIT

Harry: You said you cared/ And you missed me, too

Louis: I was better with you, and I miss you now

FALLING/ HABIT

Harry: And I get the feelin' that you'll never need me again

Louis: I’ll always need you in front of me

GOLDEN/ DEFENCELESS

Harry: And I know that you're scared/ Because hearts get broken

Louis: Got so much to lose

SWEET CREATURE/ HABIT

Harry: We started two hearts in one home

Louis: Come so far from Princess Park

GOLDEN/ TOO YOUNG

Harry: Of who I am and all I've ever known

Louis: Me and you is all i’ve ever known

SUNFLOWER VOL. 6 / KMM

Harry: Kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dance floor/Kids in the kitchen listen to dance hall

Louis: You’re a nightmare on the dance floor

FINE LINE/ WE MADE IT

Harry: We’re gonna be alright

Louis: Yeah, it's gonna be alright

Okay, now time for the explanation (from my point of view):

(update: i just realized that Two Ghosts was written during 1D days. My theory still stands as it did before, but it’s possible that smaller fights and arguments between H&L happened a few years prior, as well, although only one led to the breakup)

I believe that everything changed when Harry lost his stepfather, Robin. He begged Louis to “take the pain away” and, of course, Louis helped him through this hard period (after all, H was there for him, too)

Harry let himself be surrounded by sadness once Robin passed away, while Louis had to make sure that Larry is still secret, thus having to “play pretend” and have “her sleep in his bed” (Eleanor). That made Harry even sadder, as not only he lost his stepfather, he also felt his relationship fading away, changing.

Louis became too tired of always having to show up with Eleanor, so he “took some time” away. He was tired and angry, which ultimately led to arguing with Harry. Now I believe that there has been a huge argument between them, when both of them probably said things they didn’t really mean, hurting each other.

The next few songs show how they tried to replace one another, Harry waking up to a “girl who looked just like” Louis and Louis partying the pain away (he said so in Miss You), but they realized that what they had couldn’t be replaced.

Louis took the first step and called Harry or sent him a text or something and, after a long time of thinking, Harry realized that even if he “could hate him sometimes”, Louis still has his devotion. So they met up, sat face to face (at the kitchen table) and it was probably awkward at first, after not seeing each other for about 2 (??) years.

Harry was probably close to losing his hope with that relationship, thinking that they had nothing to say to each other anymore. But they both let their guard down, got out of their pride (Harry did that before as well, back in 2015 when he wrote IICF) and told each other the truth: L told H that he missed him and H told L that he thought he wasn’t needed anymore; Louis’ response was that he’ll “always need Harry in front of him.”

Now comes the reconciliation — while Louis is still scared that he’ll lose everything if Larry accidentally comes out and that he still needs to remain closeted, Harry tells him he has nothing to worry about. He’ll be open someday (Harry hopes).

They agree that their relationship was all they’ve ever known, ever since they were 16 and 18. They’ve started this journey together. They know that they’re soulmates.

Fast forward a few months after their discussion, they dance and kiss in the kitchen and Louis points out, while smiling, of course, that Harry’s still “a nightmare on the dance floor.” as he hears Harry’s laughter filling the room.

And yeah, they’re not perfect. They’re still a bit ripped around the edges and a bit broken, but they’re strong. They’re gonna be alright.

#larry stylinson #larry #harry styles #louis tomlinson #fine line #walls

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sparklingpax · 3 years

Text

idk where to put this but ok hear me out for a sec. sorry for the many typos you will probably find in this. and how incoherent some of it probably sounds since I’m literally dumping out all my thoughts onto this text post here idk lfglkjfs anyway so.

TFP Optimus, Cerebros from Headmasters, SGM Metalhawk, Star Saber (Victory), and G1 Optimus need to start the Nice Dads Club where they just hang out and discuss their daily adventures and how their group of "kids" are doing, as well as various other activities because why not lol ^^

askfdlkgs pls dont start with canon stuff and how its impossible for G1 Optimus to be with them bc he’s dead in that universe techincally sdkjfsj this is for fun let me live aaaa q///q

TFP Optimus would have probably come up with the idea, so he’s their founder and consultant if they ever need one, Star Saber is Club President, Hawk handles organizing and planning their meetings/outings/etc, Cerebros provides their meeting spot (his ship), and G1 Optimus brings food.

They meet every so often, when there’s no Decepticon activity happening; someone suggests they have a meeting so they contact Hawk, who will then look at calendars and stuff and call everyone up to see who can make it and when, how long they can stay, what they might want to do so he can draft an activity plan, etc.

They meet up at wherever Cerebros and his Transtector are; he previously sent everyone out on their own patrol missions across the globe and told them not to return to the ship for at least 4 hours. That way, it’s empty and the bots can do whatever they plan on doing.

Naturally, Cerebros is there first, along with TFP Optimus. Shortly after, Hawk will arrive with Star Saber and G1 Op; Star Saber lets OP ride in his V-Star while he flies alongside Hawk. They meet up and go inside, already remarking to one another how stressful the past few weeks have been wherever they happened to be stationed.

Sitting down in the main piloting room of the ship, the club members happily dig into whatever energon-based food G1 Op decided to make, which is without fail, always incredibly tasty. Sometimes it’s muffins, cookies, or sweetened energon squares. Whatever it is, it’s always a real treat.

The second or third time they’d met up like this, Hawk commented on how human food tasted in comparison, since in his human body he can/has to eat that stuff. This prompted a crazy discussion that lasted nearly the whole time they were there! And somehow, it ended with a brief, calm debate about the hunting laws on some random planet they all remember being on but only briefly.

After starting with snacks, maybe they play a game of cards, a board game, go for some kind of “field trip,” or simply continue talking. It’s whatever they feel like doing.

Discussions about their “kids” would go something like G1 Optimus saying, “Bumblebee almost got himself killed again! I had to go save him..took on Megatron and all his goons msyelf! Everyone’s ok, save for a few scratches here and there!”

“Oh boy,” Star Saber remarks, patting G1 Op on the shoulder. “You did well, Optimus. You know, the other day, the Decepticons kidnapped Jan and Stakeout and almost had them killed?”

Everyone gasps until he tells them the rescue mission was successful :)

“Ok, so I sent the kids out to buy groceries yesterday and guess what they told me when they returned, covered in dirt and without those groceries?” Hawk says, grinning.

“Hawk, tell us!” Cerebros prompts, leaning in and taking a sip from his cup of Energon.

Hawk rolls his eyes, pretending to be disappointed. “They went out and fought Decepticons by themselves in the desert.”

“Oh wow.”

“And we were starting to think about giving Jan a ship with guns of his own..” Star Saber sighs heavily and grabs a leftover energon brownie from the plate, staring at it.

“Thank goodness they made it out,” TFP Optimus says quietly, smiling warmly. “They seem to be a brave group of young warriors.”

Hawk nods affirmatively, feeling proud.

“Irresponsible, but at least they beat them!” G1 Optimus flashes Hawk a thumbs-up.

They ask Cerebros what his team’s been up to. He shrugs. “I advised Chromedome and Hardhead to wait for my command to raid an enemy base, but they went ahead and burst in alone, guns blazing!” Cerebros chuckles, swishing the liquid in his glass from left to right. “Of course the mission went well, Highbrow and Brainstorm came to help, but they did more to help with the cleanup rather than the fighting! I know, Chromedome and Hardhead are capable to handle this kind of thing alone, but...don’t they know we worry about them?”

They share a quiet laugh. He turns to TFP Optimus, sitting and watching them with the most content expression on his face.

“Anything new happen to you, Prime?”

Optimus looks to the ceiling for a moment, then nods.

“The kids, Miko, Jack, and Raf...” he pauses, trying to figure out how to best word this-- “....helped us remove an artifact from the museum, and Miko was captured in the process.”

Hawk sits forward, concerned. “Decepticons?!”

“No, by humans.” Optimus pauses, embarrassed he’d let this happen. “More specifically, the law.”

Star Saber and G1 Optimus exchange looks, smirking. “Ooo~ so the quiet Optimus Prime has in fact, broken human laws and stolen from a museum!” The Galaxy Defense Force Commander jokes.

G1 Prime folds his arms. “The plot thickens!”

“Come on,” Hawk scolds them, chuckling lightly, “they had a reason!”

“That’s true,” Cerebros chimes in to add. “I remember you emailed me about the artifact--the Energon Harvester, right? It’s a good thing it was destroyed.”

The room quiets a bit and Star Saber nods, as well as Optimus and his G1 counterpart.

“Fortunately, however, another human on our team--Agent Fowler--was able to rescue her from her...predicament. All is well otherwise at our base.....actually, now that I think about it, Rafael--our resident computer genius--just earned high honors at his school! We are immensely proud of him--especially Ratchet, who helped him study.”

“Oh, that’s very cool, Optimus!” Star Saber remarks applauding along with the others. He then nudges Hawk. “Hey, didn’t you mention on the way here that Minerva got some kind of award, too?”

“Ah--yes, a perfect test score on an important exam,” Hawk elaborates, smiling. “Waverider and Ginrai took the kids out to a restaurant outing this afternoon, actually.” The applause starts up again.

“Well, no matter what, we’re proud of our teams, right? And the most important thing is that everyone’s safe. I, for one, am thankful for all the bots and humans who call themselves Autobots on my ship!” G1 Optimus prompts brightly after the noise dies down. Cerebros lifts his glass, eyes sparkling.

“I’ll drink to that!”

And they cheer, lifting their own glasses and clinking them together.

.....and so they talk like that about lots of other things, play another round of cards, perhaps, and then Cerebros will check the time and notify them Brainstorm will arrive first in 20 minutes.

Frantically, the bots put everything back in order and collect their things. They make their way out of the ship, still laughing about something TFP Optimus had said, and all of them happy with how good of a time they’d had.

“See you soon, everyone! Good luck with your teams!” Cerebros calls, standing in the doorway of the ship’s entrance tunnel.

“Right back at you, Commander!” G1 Optimus calls with a friendly wave before boarding the V-star.

Hawk smiles at him, nodding firmly. “Thank you for a good time, Commander Cerebros.” Then transforms and launches gracefully into the sky.

“See you around!” Star Saber calls before transforming and leading his ship away from them. Cerebros turns to Optimus, still standing next to him.

“You have a ride, Optimus?”

“Yes,” Optimus smiles fondly. “Ratchet will activate the groundbridge momentarily.”

“Alright then, so I’ll see you soon, I hope?”

“Of course,” Optimus shakes hands with the Headmasters commander. “And I’ll be emailing you those shielding plans, right?”

“If you still want to!”

Then the bridge opens up. Cerebros waves. Optimus nods one final goodbye, regarding the sight of Cerebros and the ship behind him with warmth. Then, steps through the groundbridge.

///

GJDFLKJDSKFS IF YOU READ THIS ILY THANK YOU & ALSO IM SO SORRY AAA Q///Q

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kyotakumrau · 4 years

Text

2020.08.10 AERAdot. Kaoru interview

A confession from the guitarist of the heavy rock band DIR EN GREY: 'there's no meaning to a band if we can't play concerts'

Interview and text=AERAdot. Sakuda Hiroshi (作田裕史)

Original text can be seen here

translation=kyotaku (pls let me know if you see any mistakes or typos m(*_ _)m)

Right now, the world of rock is suffering from a huge quake of an unprecedented scale. After there was a cluster infection in a live house in Osaka in February most of the rock bands lost the place where they can play gigs. Yet, there must be some people who are saved by music while we live in this world entrapped in the hopelessness due to the pandemic. So in what way is this musician trying to overcome the situation like this? Kaoru from the Japan's top heavy rock band DIR EN GREY told us about it in this interview.

＊　　＊　　＊

――DIR EN GREY's live activities are being hugely affected by the pandemic. Your domestic tour planned for March-April and your two-day show in Pia Arena MM on July 23rd and 24th were all cancelled. What was your reaction to those decisions?

薫　Starting with the tour, before the state of emergency was declared we didn't know what kinds of measures will be required to hold an event and what would be bad. While it was still not precise what safety measures will be needed, we couldn't keep postponing it again and again so we decided to cancel the tour. For the shows in Pia Arena we were looking for a way to hold them until the very last minute. We did various simulations, if we changed the arena standing to seated, how many people could we fit if we kept [required] space between seats and so on. But we understood that we could not express what we wanted as a band, for example having the required ventilation for the venue, if we used smoke during the performance it would all go into one certain area. We also knew that there must be many fans who wanted to come but couldn't. And for the shows of the 'arena' scale, we decided that we shouldn't just cling to 'wanting to do it' feeling when we cannot create the right environment, so very regrettably we gave up.

――On your OHP you posted "we must say that music is expression, and that it is not possible for the band to bring you the best performance while following the preventive measure guidelines announced by the government. This is the reason behind the decision of cancel the shows." What is this essential for DIR EN GREY expression according to you?

薫　Speaking in extremes, as long as you can get the sound out you can perform songs. Yet, our shows are not the type where we stir up the audience with MCs to get them moshing and crowdsurfing. There's lighting, videos, sounds and production, and the 'picture' of the band members standing there, all those pieces create our performance. Having fans paying [for tickets] and coming to see us, I don't think it can be called 'an expression' if we can't accomplish the performance we want to show.

――What's your opinion on the safety guidelines published by the authorities and employers' organization? There are requests to have a meter between audience members on both sides and back and front, to forbid the audience make any loud noise and so on. It was also once discussed to have the performer (artist) wear a face shield.

薫　It would be absolutely impossible if artists had to wear face shields or vocalists couldn't shout. It would be like denying the band-ness. It's hard to even imagine a band member playing live wearing a face shield (laughing). It might be possible to have the audience stay quiet, but for many people, the reason they come to the rock concerts is to relieve stress of daily life or to escape the reality. So we could ask if the concert where fans can't sing together nor shout can really be called a rock concert.

However I don't think that 'pre-corona' rock concerts will come back. Especially the standing venues where fans are all squeezed together and things get very heated, that might be difficult even after the pandemic is over. Once the fear of the coronavirus has taken root, the number of people not willing to enter that space will increase. When that happens the style when fans get all squeezed and rough and drenched having fun together - it won't be possible anymore. I think we have to prepare for that.

――If the way concerts are held after the pandemic changes, will DIR EN GREY's expression change as well?

薫　That will not change. In our case, we create the worldview with our performance and have the audience step in and get excited, this style is a bit different to a simply rough and energetic show. As creating the worldview that can be also used at the seated shows is our 'expression', there's no need to change that. So without changing the expression, it will be about changing how we prepare the venues, especially when playing in the 'live houses' (all standing venues). For example,

we have to find a way to hand a huge curtain between the stage and the audience, how to organize the audience into blocks to avoid big crowds or how to organize a show in the standing venue.

――After all rock is about the freedom that is born when one gets out of the 'norm' or 'accepted practices' of the society, and fans are also attracted to such attitude of the band. So when the govt says 'don't play shows' as a preventive measure against COVID-19, don't you feel frustrated as a musician?

薫　Instead of making the decision based on what the govt says, we do it thinking first about the fans who come to see us. When eveyone is wary of people around them, being worried about getting infected and not being able to focus on the performance, in the circumstances like that we also can't perform well and fans also can't enjoy it. So we decided there's no point in this situation.

After all the govt will not tell the rock bands to from now on 'start playing shows gradually', right? If possible what they truly would like to say is 'just stop performing', so the only thing we can do is to decide ourselves 'this is possible' at some point and restart shows. There are some bands performing while following the guidelines. They are criticized a lot by the society, but personally I support them. There's no other way but for the bands like that to gradually increase and move forward, even just one step at the time, while piling up the actual results.That's why I hope the bands that perform now can do their best and for DIR EN GREY as well to start performing as soon it's 'possible'. The situation when we can't perform, speaking in extremes, it's like our band ceased to exist. I think that [playing on] the stage is the place of 'expression', so if that is gone there's no point of making music. And that's why we do trials and errors wanting to restart playing concerts in a fully satisfactory way.

――Kaoru, from March you started a YouTube channel titled 'The Freedom of Expression', you discuss there current topics. If we start counting from the time you did the radio program, you're continuing this project for 5 years, what made you decide to start?

薫　By no means I know a lot about politics or economy, but as a musician ('band man'), as a performer, I can switch my own point of view and share the comments on what's society focused on right now. How is it reflected in the society, how the information is relayed, will karma be served? The start was me being interested in many things like that. But with things you don't know even if you try to pretend to know it won't work. We got a good balance with the radio DJ Joe Yokomizo and Tasai from Tokyo Sports who are on the show together with me. By having those two, I can say how I see things from where I stand and I can also learn listening to different opinions.

――Before there was a tendency for musicians to not talk about things other than music. Because fans were interested in the music and other topics were uncalled for. There was even a discussion once 'don't bring politics into music'. How do you feel about that?

薫　Isn't it fine to not get hung up on the idea what musicians should be like? I understand that fans want to see someone simply as an artist, but that artist is just another human being, they have their own opinions. Fans are free not to listen to their opinions or to only check their work. From the start rock is about freedom, so there's no reason to be that obsessed about this. Does the musician own what they say or not? I think only that is important.

And, in the end we are a rock band. Putting it bluntly, we cannot save the world. In the real emergency if there's someone who collapses music cannot save them directly. At such time musician is powerless. And that's why I really wish for the world where you can listen to music and enjoy it.

――In that sense we can say that pandemic is the real emergency. What is the meaning of rock music during COVID-19?

薫　That's really difficult.... For example, in the situation when you have to constantly brace yourself outside, when you get home and want to spend even just a few minutes with our music, that's one meaning of our existence. Another role might be the attitude of 'not giving up' in this situation. When the world has stopped, rock bands can also breathe new life in and lead people forward. It might be how the show is organized or how the song is relayed. In that sense, DIR EN GREY must keep moving forward. I don't want to give in to COVID-19.

#dir en grey #薫 #kaoru #interview #translation

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spectrumed · 3 years

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2. voice

As a child I could not pronounce the letter R. I once complained to my mother for being so careless as to give me a name that had two R’s in it. Fredrik. Or as I pronounced it back then, “Fledlik.” Cute, right? I was a cute child, all blonde and with big blue eyes. At one point, I got surrounded by a group of older girls who forced me to pronounce my name, even though I really couldn’t. They laughed and laughed, teasing me for my inability to pronounce even my own name correctly. If I ever had a reason to develop a fetish for femdom, I think this would have been it.

Like it or not, in speech, there is no room for individual quirks. No, we’ve all got to learn how to speak properly. Historically, that has led to some pretty heinous attitudes towards regional accents, any tongue that was the standard was seen by default as being less or developed and intelligent. Regional accents were seen as practically unhygienic, the worry being that if people just got to speak as they wished, they might end up potentially thinking dangerous thoughts. While I understand the importance of being understood, it’s clear that the stigma that exists around speech difficulties stems from a place of prejudice. If a person has a lisp, do you really struggle to understand them? And while stammering can be quite debilitating, it should be blatantly obvious that shaming people who stammer, suggesting that they are bereft of intelligence, is not the way to help them. Humans are social animals, and language may be the one thing that distinguishes us as a species, it is natural that proper elocution should be treasured. But some people do struggle with their speech, and that should not cost them any respect or kindness.

As a child, I didn’t speak nearly enough. As an adult I am speaking too much. That’s the problem with you, Fredrik, you’ve never understood that there is a middle ground between two extremes. There is a way you can speak that is neither too quiet, nor too loud. It is how normal people speak. Why can’t you be normal, Fredrik? Are you going to spend this whole blog post talking about how difficult it is for you to simply learn to be like everyone else? Self-pitying yourself, much? Back in my day people pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, if they had something they struggled with, they learned to sort it all out, and they didn’t start complaining about society being all mean to them. You’re just spending too much time inside your own head, go take a swim, take up a hobby that requires you to step outdoors, it will serve you well. Don’t be a freak, Fredrik. Be normal, for once.

On a side note, “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps” is meant to be understood as an impossible feat. You can’t possibly pull yourself up by your bootstraps, it’s ludicrous to even suggest that such a thing may be feasible. While, yes, there are many things you can do to help yourself, ultimately, you can’t profoundly escape from a sorry situation you’ve found yourself in without some outside help. There is no shame in requiring help. To guilt someone into thinking that if they can’t do it alone, they are weak, is frankly sociopathic. Humans need each other, we take care of each other, we are there for each other. Self-sufficiency is great, but let’s not take it to levels of absurdity by suggesting that needing help from others is anything but normal. No-one succeeds in life without others there to prop them up. Instead of telling someone to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, you might as well tell them to go and swallow the sun, which is clearly another impossible task.

Most people will never in their lives experience what it is like to go through a neuropsychological evaluation. Turns out that it is not always such a pleasant experience. Though, considering the popularity of pseudo-scientific nonsense like the Myers-Briggs test, I am sure some folks would lie and pretend to love it. Certainly, there is a charm to being there and talking about yourself for several hours near-uninterrupted, but the exhaustion that you will feel at the end of it cannot be understated. Naturally, it does vary between who does it, and why they’re doing it. But if the stated goal is to find out whether you’ve had a neurodevelopmental disorder since you were but a young babe, then of course, there are going to be some pretty long conversations happening about those early days. Lots of stuff you may not have considered or thought about in a very long time will suddenly become very relevant to your current situation. And at the end of it all, you get some papers detailing your fashionable new diagnosis. Your entire life, all written down. Can make you feel rather wistful. And there’s really quite a surprising amount of typos included in the text, and barely any jokes.

Still, as part of my official diagnosis, there is a reference to my speech at being at times “stilted.” Though, the diagnosis does take very good care to mention that I appear intelligent and thoughtful, exhibiting a wide vocabulary and a good sense of the right words to use at the right moment. It’s flattering, for the most part. Yet, it does irk me that I could be perceived as being stilted. I know that at this point, I am being petty, because who cares if I sometimes come across as maybe a little robotic. I’ve got Asperger’s. Of course I am a robot. The closest role model we folks with Asperger’s ever had for the longest time was Star Trek: The Next Generation’s android named Data. God forbid anyone like me ever turned out to be the protagonist of a series, we’re all doomed to play the part of the robot, the alien, or the socially awkward geek. I should just be delighted that I am high-functioning. I know how much worse some have it. I should be grateful and pleased that I come across as mostly normal, mostly neurotypical. But… I really just don’t want anyone to think my speech is stilted. I don’t want to be Data. I want to be Riker.

It is never enough, you’ll never be good enough. If you fake it, they’ll see through it. If you struggle and if you work honestly to appear more normal, they won’t recognise it. As soon as they get an inkling you may be an imposter, looking like them, but having a neurologically deviant brain, they’ll single you out. For you, normalcy is an illusion. To attempt to be normal is to remake yourself only to receive nothing. Sure, you can be disingenuous, pretend you're not yourself, but it’ll never fool them. In the end, you’ll only lose yourself. Maybe I should just own the fact that my speech sometimes comes across as being stilted. Maybe I should own it. Be proud of who I am. But… sometimes I just don’t want to be me.

I want to be ignored. Sometimes, not always. But that goes for everyone. But most of all, I’d like to be able to go unseen whenever I’m not trying to impress anyone. When I’m just off to buy some milk. When I’m sitting on the bus. When I’m walking through the park. I know it is partly paranoia, but I can’t help but feel like I stick out. It’s always been like that with my friends growing up. The metaphor I used with my therapist is that I felt like a thumb. That they, my friends, were the fingers and I was the thumb. Sure, we’re similar. In many ways we’re the same. You could even say that I was crucial to making the social dynamics work. Who doesn’t like the thumb? What would you do without your thumb? But still, I was different. Some people would do anything to be different like that, to feel special. Some folks feel all invisible and forgotten in the crowd, and I’d lie if I told them that I didn’t envy them sometimes. The ability to go all invisible? That seems swell! There’s this question people like to ask as a sort of personality test. If you could choose a superpower, would you rather be able to fly, or would you rather be able to go invisible? The answer is obvious, as far as I’m concerned. Of course I’d love to be able to go invisible. To be able to exist without anyone seeing me. Without anyone judging me. Without ever having to worry if someone is going to treat me as different. For a moment to feel what it is like not to be some big, dumb, stupid, thumb.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not too anguished. Nowadays, I feel like I am in a relatively good place. But I would be lying if I told you that I still don’t get frustrated at the plethora of difficulties I face just trying to blend in. Even with family members, people who are supposed to know you the best, even then I have to go out of my way to behave a certain way, to exist a certain way, because fundamentally, they just don’t seem to get you. Not in that way. They have an image of you that you need to try and match. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them that sometimes you need to be more direct in your communication to truly reach me, I don’t pick up on the many smaller little social cues they may throw my way, it’s still just me being silly and looking for excuses for why I didn’t understand them the first time around. And I am deathly afraid of hurting anyone’s feelings. A very prevalent misconception about autistic individuals is that we don’t care if we’re being rude. That if we are rude, our rudeness can simply be overlooked because, y’know, we’re autistic. While this sort of thing is commonly represented in media that is supposed to depict autistic characters, in real life, things don't quite work like this. Believe it or not, readers, being autistic is not a free pass to act like a dick. Autistic individuals still very much have to modulate our behaviour if we wish to fit in and be accepted. No-one will ever excuse you for being autistic. To be autistic is living with extra hurdles in your way, thinking that it’s anything but a social handicap is romanticising a diagnosis you clearly know very little about.

When I was a kid, I didn’t speak much. As far as I was concerned, I merely spoke whenever I needed to speak. It took until adulthood for me to learn that my parents and teachers were actually concerned about that. I was made to see a specialist, under the guise of learning elocution, but I’ve later come to realise that those meetings were about more than just learning to pronounce the letter R. Like, what does testing my memory have to do with diction? Yes, her job was partly to help my speech develop more in line with the other kids, but she was also there to evaluate whether or not I was intellectually disabled. I have come to learn that I had teachers at the time that were adamant about me going to a different school, more equipped to handle kids like me, but my mother vehemently defended my right to stay in the school I was in. After all, I did have friends, and to anyone who really knew me, they knew that I was a bright child. Sure, I wasn’t as communicative as the other children, but I clearly had no issues processing information, and it’s not like I was disruptive in some other way. But that was also part of the problem. The teachers that thought that I may need specialist schooling were concerned about the fact that I was too placid and too agreeable. They wanted me to express frustration at my lacking pronunciation, to see me get mad at others for not fully understanding me. That amazes me, if anything. The fact that I was a happy kid they took as some indication that I wasn’t quite right.

My mother delights in a memory of me as a kid once slamming my fist on the table and declaring that “now, I am speaking!” May I remind you that I was a cute kid. Sure, it is the sort of behaviour that parents of the old times would have spanked their kids for. Kids in the past were supposed to be quiet. To be seen, but not heard. I wonder if there’d be any kind of hubbub about my early development if I lived back then. I’d probably be seen as the ideal child, all pretty and docile and never too loud. Still, it was a moment my mother cherished, because for once, I really proved that I did have the capacity to speak. Though, I still couldn’t pronounce my R’s. But it was time for Fledlik to speak.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

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jovalencia · 3 years

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we all knew this was coming and I’m a sentimental bitch. I just wanted to write all my mutuals some little messages about how much I love you. you guys have changed my life and I am so grateful for each and every one of you!!!💕💞💓💗💖💘 anygays have fun searching for yourself in this mess and I’m sorry for any typos, I’m illiterate (and if i forgot you it’s because i lost my brain in 1912)

@cr1spyy fernanda, my first ever mutual. who would have thought that your 5th wave posts would have brought one of the most amazing people in my life to me. your posts always make me laugh and your dedication to the good morning asks is admirable (fr I could never have that much consistency) you’re so kind to everybody and you’re absolutely beautiful and incredible and I fucking love you so much. I honestly don’t even want to think about what my life would be like if I had never met you, MWAH💕🤍

@sundaymorninghangover I remember you being my first ever note!! you liked this post I made that was a reblog of a “uquiz” that was actually a rickroll lmao. you didn’t even follow me back then but whatever. Then I remember waking up one day to see that you had tagged me in a bingo ask game and I was like “ummm tf is an ask game” but I do still have a bingo card for it that I never used ekenksjs. anygays, you have good opinions on everything and you’re absolutely fucking hilarious. If you told me back in may that I would be friends with you I wouldn’t believe it bc you intimidated me but regardless I’m glad to be an arson gang member with you. your memes are god tier and so is your music taste. I love you whore!!!!!🖤💜

@sound-and-colors ma’am you’re so nice and for what??? the aesthetic stuff that you reblog is *chef’s kiss* and nobody else is out there doing it like you. we’ve never talked but I just know that you are absolutely incredible mwah❤️💛

@embeddedinmybrain tasfia you are the nicest person on his hellsite and you know it (I hope). It was so much fun being your secret admirer anon while it lasted, like fr I loved it. Your art is beautiful just like your heart and i honestly don’t know what I did to deserve such a kind soul like you in my life. You’re always there to hype me up and ily (also just cut your own hair already I believe in you)🤍💙

@gumptin you hooked me with your suus icon and reeled me in by being the coolest and funniest person ever. your posts are consistently hilarious, accurate, or relatable and I admire that. I mean it when I say you’re one of the coolest people on here. idk what I did to have you think I’m cool but I’m honored nonetheless. also you have really awesome style and hair jdnjdjdjd mwah💚💛

@nori-in-pink first and foremost, your blog always has a very nice aesthetic and I feel like I need to acknowledge that. anyway, you are so kind and supportive and you don’t take any bullshit and that is absolutely amazing. you are absolutely iconic and always reblog the best stuff so I know I can count on your blog to be fantastic. you used to scare me (idk why don’t ask) but now I know that you’re just a big teddy bear ily💗💜

@matteohnora my slurpee queen and my mememate!! you always send me the funniest shit and it doesn’t go unappreciated. You’re always there for me with a silly meme or emotional support and I don’t think I’ve ever told you how grateful I am for that. whenever you stalk my blog it makes my heart go whooosh and I feel so special. Ily and I am so glad to have met you💜❤️

@lieverobbe ah yes, the girl with the impeccable music taste. that’s what I know you as, oh well. you are more talented and kind than you could ever believe and your edits are amazing!!! whenever I see you on my dash I get all happy bc I’m like “em’s here!!!” I love all your lil posts and I am so glad that you are my mutual ilyyyyy💙🤍

@ironymane you’ve watched limitless which automatically makes you amazing. you’re an absolutely incredible and amazing person and even tho you aren’t on here as much anymore, I still love youre lil posts. And one time you kept me entertained on a 6hr car ride so you deserve some kind of award for that. ly🧡💛

@kingarthurpendragons okay the obvious thing to talk about here is your incredible talent when it comes to gif making. Like how in the hell- but you are also so kind and loving and it doesn’t go unnoticed. You don’t have to send nice asks but you do and ily for it mwah!!❤️💗

@engelkeijsers the skam nl stan that we all deserve to have in our lives. you are so fucking hilarious and relatable and all around amazing and for what? your posts always put a smile on my face and it is so much fun to clown with you. ilyyyy💚💛

@happiness-isin-you let’s ignore the fact that it took me forever to realize that this was your main lmao. your art is some of the most beautiful shit I’ve ever seen. like your style is so cool???? I could literally go on about this for hours don’t test me. the cute animal pictures are the absolute best and you’re always there for emotional support. Ilyyyyyyy💛❤️

@isakyaqi fiz you are so kind and talented and cool and I really do mean all that. You reblog always the best of content so I know I can trust it. you always put nice tags in the things you reblog things and it’s fun to read what you write because it’s almost always you hyping up the creator or the thing itself. you are awesome jdjdjdndjjd mwah🖤🤎

@cash-queens sam oh sam. Idek where to start with how much ily. You’re my famous mutual which is very iconic of you and you put up with my cat pictures and my silly antics and my riverdale posts. You’re so kind to me and everybody and whenever I make a post when I’m having a mental breakdown you’re always there to make sure that I’m doing okay. That def doesn’t go unappreciated. You’re legitimately one of the kindest and most amazing people I’ve ever known and I love you so much, more than you could ever know💛🤍

@welcometo-saturn çağrı you’re so cool. end of statement. that’s all I have to say about it. your gifs are so beautiful and you don’t take shit from anybody. you’re so down to earth that it makes it seem like you’re somebody who I’ve just always known (even tho we’ve never talked sjdjdjdjdj) so yeah anyway, you’re are a really awesome person with really good opinions and I am so glad that we are mutuals🧡❤️

@amifeelingokay it’s difficult not to start with your url bc it’s amazing and I love it. your skam posts are always so nice and cute and positive (just like you!!) and I love them. the content you reblog is always aesthetic or a nice text post and I just love your blog okay. ily💜🖤

@isthatelpome you’re so nice that I’m willing to overlook your opinion on salt and vinegar chips (they’re not good I’ll fight you on that) your dani icon is beautiful just as you are, mwahhhh🧡❤️

@earthling-isa babe you are so cute with your lil edits and your clowning. the near constant black and white aesthetic is very iconic and i love it. you’re a suus stan so I have no choice but to love you for it. i absolutely adore your gifs, especially the ones with the lil squares in the middle fygzbgut. you are absolutely beautiful and incredible and kind and I love you MWAHHHH🖤💙

@grey-mist-exist okay we’ve never talked but you seem like such a rad person. not cool but like rad (there are are subtle differences) your art is beautiful even tho idk the quotes (go off smarty pants) and overall you are just really rad, idk how else to say it mwah!!!🤍🖤<pretend it’s a grey heart

@fatoudixon hey look it’s one of the most talented people here!!! You’ve always been so kind and supportive of me and I really really do appreciate it. you have good opinions on everything and did I mention that you’re talented?? cause you are, very. Your reaction videos are amazing and not to mention iconic, just like your hair. anyway, ily and I am so glad that I have somebody as amazing as you as my mutual💙💛

@sander-klaas you are so kind and and you have so much passion. I can always trust you reblog only the best of wtfock and sobbe content which I am very grateful for. you literally just started making gifs and they are so beautiful (okay it was like months ago but whatever dkdjdjjdjdj) anyway, thank you so much for being my mutual mwah❤️💛

@jusdekiwi okay we’ve never talked but you genuinely seem like such a sweet person??? I love the stuff you reblog, it’s always the best gif sets. idk I can just tell you have good taste. I hope to get to know you better in the future, but for now I am very grateful to have you💚💙

@kritiquer my twin!!! you and I have a lot in common so ofc I love you. I’m joking obviously.... anygays you are always so supportive of everybody and you are so sweet. I love all of your personal posts, it always makes me really happy to see what you’re up to and how you’re feeling. I also like the aesthetic stuff you reblog, I have bad taste in all that, clearly you don’t. I am so glad that we started talking and I hope that we continue! ily kit!!!!💜🤍

@bleachblondebitches you aren’t on here that much, but whenever you are I get so happy! Your gifs are beautiful and I think about your sobbe and booksmart parallels gifset every day. you have amazing taste in movies and I love you!💜💙

@lesbeanfatou clara!!! bitch!!!! You already know how much I love you but I guess I’ll reiterate. I honestly don’t know what I did before I knew you. I always remember looking at the no idea blog with the Nora icons like “who is this?” Little did I know back then that you would be one of my closest friends. your support of me means the world and I am so grateful for you. I’m so glad that I have somebody in my life like you to talk to and be friends with. you are one of the funniest people in and I just love you so much I could burst mwah❤️🧡

@gucciboner okay hiii ypu are literally so fucking kind and funny, i admire your sense of humor sm. your art is so beautiful and you are so goddamn talented, it never ceases to amaze me. I also love all the little funny posts you make and reblog!! ily💙💗

@helmtaryn even though you put supernatural on my dash, I am willing to forgive you bc I love you so much. your gifs are so beautiful like ma’am didn’t you just start?? icon shit. your hate for photoshop is iconic and you are awesome. you’re always sending me asks and responding to my posts and you’re so nice and it makes my heart go whooosh. anygays you’re cool and ily💙🧡

@starmansander nina when I tell you that you give off the best vibes- okay sorry I had to start with that. I love how you are so nice and supportive of me, it really means a lot. I really like the stuff you reblog like,,, cool art? pretty women? those hopeful little posts? iconic. also youre a noor stan which is a sign of good taste. love you🤎❤️

@ijzermanora daniiiiiii madam you are so epic and iconic and I really could go on about that forever. you are so kind and you’re following all my joke sideblogs (even the ch*cken l*ttle hate blog??? why???) which is very brave of you. I love reading all of your lil wholesome posts and hearing about school and how much you hate chemistry (even tho you like sushi???) anygays we were already sending memes 10 hours into our mutualship so I think we were soulmates from the very beginning. I love you so much and I have no idea what I did before i knew you💜💗

@alwaysin-myhead okay, you give off cool person vibes and I had to acknowledge that. your art is so beautiful and you are so incredibly talented!!! I hope to get to know you in the future🧡💛

@alexiaugustin here she is!!! the queen of good opinions!!! you are such a smart cookie and you use that power to make long paragraph posts that I can actually read without falling asleep. which is impressive honestly. never has a person been so kind and funny and genius in such a well rounded way (that makes no sense) I’m so happy that I have you in my life ilyyy💚💗

@ijntba hihi you’re such a sweet person and I literally love your skam blog sm. I am so honored that you’re using one of my icons you have no idea. even though I’m confused when you post about anime, I still appreciate your passion lmao. mwah💛🧡

@hidden-joy liz!! you are such a kind soul and I absolutely love looking at the things you reblog and reading all the nice things that you put in the tags, it’s always so sweet and supportive!!! we’re relatively new mutuals, but I do hope to get to know you better in the future!!!💚💛

okay sorry to group y’all together but @fudgetunblr and @alexiswoke I like just became mutuals with y’all but I do love you and I’m glad you’re here and I hope 2021 treats you well and that i get to know you better!!❤️❤️

aaand one last final message for max and sarah, i know yall wont see this but ily🧡 💜

okay yeah I know I already said this but I really do love each and every one of you so much and I am so lucky to have so many amazing people in my life💕💕💓💕💖💖💕💘💕💗💞💓💕💖💖💘💕💓

#MWAH💕#my mutuals are pretty fuckin rad #also don’t tell anyone but the hearts at the end are the colors I associate you with #or they’re as close as I could get #*makes this post*#*goes back to sleep*

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concealeddarkness13 · 3 years

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WHG 15 Post-Games Imposter Syndrome Part 25

This is a couple of days after part 24. I haven’t really proofread these, so I hope there aren’t too many typos! Tagging the collaboration crew: @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses (also thanks for Avery and Haven!), and @thoughts-of-nora!

That morning, I woke up when my phone buzzed. I frowned and looked at it. The number…it was Shine’s number. Shit. What was the Capitol doing now?

I opened it anyway, and I froze, staring at the message. Bring me that horizon. Fly out to the sea.

Tears filled my eyes, and I looked away from the phone. How did the Capitol know about the code? Or, could it possibly be someone from the crew? I sucked in a breath and texted back. Who the hell is using this phone and why?

I sat back, tears falling down my cheeks. I couldn’t sit in here. I couldn’t look at my phone. I stood up and walked to the door and looked out. Just in time to see Avery leaving the apartment, not even with any Peacekeeper escort. What were they having her do? And was there anything I could do to help?

So, I followed her out, sneaking very sneakily. She walked through the Capitol towards a nondescript building, but when she walked down an alley, and I followed her, she pulled a knife on me.

Eh. I hadn’t been trying to be super sneaky anyway. I grinned at her. “Hi! You’re amazing at this! How are you doing?”

She looked confused for a bit before she backed off and started tossing her knife. “We’ve been captured by the Capitol and you’re trailing me, so either you’re part of them and very bad at being a tail, or you’re overly curious for your own good. They already know I won’t make a break again, I didn’t before the Games.”

“Eh. I just want to see what’s going on. What else the Capitol is planning. Their old tricks for me are so boring. And maybe I could help a little?”

She snorted, but she just kicked back against the wall and started walking, but giving me enough room to walk with her. “Come on then, doubt they’ll really care if someone else is there, particularly someone with magic. Gods, they’ll probably be thrilled. Any chance you’re good at researching it? Or have learned anything useful about your boyfriend?”

Ugh. Did she have to bring Bystander up? “Not like I wanted him to be my boyfriend. Actually, he’s a horrible kisser.” I paused, distinctly thinking about how much of a lie that last one was. “But I’m pretty damn good at research, so I’ll see what I can do.”

She smiled, putting the dagger in her jacket pocket. “Really the pretty boy isn’t as great as he pretends to be, huh? Shame, but I doubt they’ll care much for one of their kissing skills. Unless you think he can be bested by undoing his ego?”

“I’ve already tried to hurt his pride enough. I don’t think anything bothers him. He’s told me that he has an unnaturally long life, and he can…hear better than normal? But I don’t know how much truth he was telling.”

“Sadly, the complete truth. Though vague enough to still be close to a lie.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. Mood. “You don’t seem to have fallen for his ‘charms’ though, thank gods for that or else I’m not sure I’d be able to stand you.”

I again distinctly didn’t think about how good he was at kissing. “Oh, he’s a piece of shit.” I shook my head. It was annoying to think about him. “But I can’t stand thinking about him the whole time. I’m curious about this group you’re going to.” Of course I had tried to look up some stuff on what was going on with the rest of the captured tributes. “I haven’t heard about them. What are their goals?”

“Do you want the party line that dragged me into it, or my best guess at the truth? The former is ‘keeping people safe from magical and divine threats against us so people can stay in charge of their own lives’. Hence my research and questions. Somehow I thought that meant they’d never be in bed with the Capitol of all people.”

Huh. Interesting. I nodded. “Especially because the Capitol employs magic threats. And would that mean I’m one too since I have magic? Which means their whole motto is untrue.” I sighed. This was so tiring. “I really love people who think they can save humans from magic.” The Shades said the same excuse.

She nodded as well. “Speaking of, what exactly is your magic like? They’ve been giving us just enough information to keep Haven sated, but I’ve always been a bit more hands on with research.”

It would be prudent to be a little cautious. I didn’t know what they would do if I just gave them everything. I eyed her. “Will they destroy me after I give away all my secrets? If so, I’d like to keep them, if that’s okay.”

“Fair enough, and worth a shot.” Avery took the dagger out of her pocket, rolled the sleeve up on her jacket, and pressed the dagger to her arm. It disappeared into a tattoo, and I blinked and stared. That was so cool! “I’d say it’d be hypocritical of them to do so, but…” She stiffened slightly as we approached the building, and a man was waiting for us. Haven?

“Avery, is there a reason why you’re late?” He was staring straight at me, so I smiled and waved.

“She wants to join us, maybe give a demonstration or two like we were promised.” Avery covered up her arm quickly.

“Indeed? Then it is time we get started, shall we?” He turned on his heel and walked into the building, not waiting for a response. Oh boy.

Avery hesitated and turned back to me. “Last chance to run.”

Oh, I’d mess with him a little instead. The way Avery was acting, it would be fun to mess with him. I smirked. “I’m not going anywhere. Hope that’s okay with you.”

“Just keep your head down, these people are how I ended up in the Games in the first place.” She led me to a small room that looked like an office, with papers and books lying around everywhere. Beautiful! There were so many books!

Before I could go look at the books, my eyes landed on Haven. He was reading one of the papers. Avery headed in. “Wonderful, you’re apparently worthy of an audience today.”

Fun! “I guess I’m just that interesting. So, do we start reading? What are we looking for?”

“Currently, we’re focusing on them and any accounts we can find, some of whom we’ve already met.” She gestured at the photographs on the wall, with people who looked suspiciously like Reine, Aleksis, and Conor in them. And some others I didn’t recognize. “As well as anyone else we—”

Haven decided to graciously interrupt. “Given our guest, it might be better to switch focuses for the day on them.”

Oh, I didn’t mind if they found out everything about the Shades. But I probably wouldn’t be much help. “The Shades?” I crossed my arms. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about them. Especially not any weaknesses.”

“Shame, but you do know something?” He nodded at Avery, and she brushed past me to sit down at her desk and grabbing a piece of paper and a writing utensil.

“I do. I’ve had to deal with Churi enough to know something about them.” But I wouldn’t just divulge information unless he specifically asked.

“What do you know of their origins?”

“They just showed up one day, claiming that our magic was evil, so they took it away and will only give the magic to people they control.”

“And yet there’s you, a sign their control isn’t as strong as they claim.” In the background, Avery was writing down notes and looking through books. Hopefully, I could do that soon.

I cocked my head as a smirk pulled at my lips. “Yeah, I’m a fucking miracle. Or a fucking mistake. Whichever you prefer.”

He frowned slightly. “Is your power any different from what they give to others.”

“Yes.” If he wanted a specific answer, he should have asked.

His frown changed into a scowl, and Avery had to stifle a snicker in the background. “How?”

I still wouldn’t be specific. “It’s diluted with human blood.”

“Interesting difference,” Avery said as she wrote down notes.

“Indeed. A demonstration then?”

I shrugged. It still wasn’t giving away all my secrets. “Why not? You’ve probably already seen videos of me using my magic anyway. I haven’t exactly been subtle about it.” I walked over to the glass of water just sitting on the table, and I activated my magic. The water in front of me flashed, and it was now a pretty crystal flower.

Avery watched the demonstration intently and reached out to touch it afterwards. Her fingers brushed it before she spoke. “May I?”

I nodded and handed it to her after I deactivated my magic. And then I turned to Haven. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“For the moment. Captain, keep an eye on her for the moment.” He left after Avery nodded while she was still staring at the flower and writing down notes.

She examined the flower more closely. “What exactly is this? It’s no longer water or even the more expected ice. Almost…crystalline? And you can do this naturally with no training?”

I turned to Avery. I wouldn’t answer all of her questions. Just some. “Crystal. And it’s as hard as a diamond. I can cut through almost anything with a crystal knife.”

“Is this what people were supposedly able to do before they took it away? And this is what they give people? How does it hold up against a diamond then? And when you say almost anything?” She went and sat back at the desk.

I laughed. All these questions were so much fun! “I haven’t tried it on everything, so I didn’t want to make a claim I couldn’t back up. Not sure how it holds up against a diamond. So, could you answer a question of my own? What’s with the knife tattoo change thing? That’s awesome!”

“Oh that, not nearly as impressive, a bit of old magic.” She slipped off her jacket, revealing multiple tattoos on her arms. Two knives, one looked like fire, and a cool symbol. “I can call upon them when I need them, daggers are particularly useful, as is fire when you’re lacking light. But the uniforms for the arena were covering my arms.”

“The Capitol probably did that on purpose, the jerks.” I leaned over to see what she was reading, and I smiled. Amanda Ginser. I knew that name. “Oh. That’s probably accurate information. That’s the fake name of the person I went to to get my information. Look for books by her. She always knows everything.”

She smiled and pulled out a stack of books by the same author, and I grinned and started looking through them. After a little bit, I glanced up at Avery. Her magic was just so interesting. “So, can you summon anything from those tattoos?”

“Not anything.” She thought for a bit. “I have to know the name of it in this language I’ve been looking into, or well my friend was looking into, I’m nowhere near as good as him at it. But then I have to make the tattoo out of a real object. It’s a rather complex process and we have many failed attempts tattooed on us from it when we were figuring it out.”

I grinned. “That’s so awesome! What’s the weirdest thing you’ve been able to summon?”

“Fire.” She put her hand carefully on the tattoo until a real fire appeared in her palm! Awesome! “We had to perfect getting it so we wouldn’t be burned in the creation and being able to perfectly capture what the magical deemed an acceptable replica…”

“Yeah, that’s amazing! I wish I could do that!”

“Your own ability seems to be far more useful to be honest, and versatile.”

“Eh.” I shrugged. “I have to be really close to the liquid to actually crystallize it, unlike someone whose magic wasn’t diluted.”

She shrugged and put out the fire. “Still,” she didn’t finish the sentence, just went back to reading, so I did too.

After a while, Avery spoke up. “Would you be against one more demonstration? I can literally not tell anyone else about it without putting myself in more danger for what I want to do if that helps.” She sounded casual, but there was an edge of nervousness to her voice.

I grinned with a shrug. “Why not? I like testing my magic too.”

“Consider this a test for us both then.” She relaxed and pressed a hand to the cool symbol tattooed on her arm and concentrated before nodding at me.

I found another water source and activated my magic and crystallized it, this time into a small ship. I looked over at her. “Is that good?”

She blinked a few times, staring at the crystal, before she bit her lip. “Yeah, I…gods you’re so weird.” She stopped touching the symbol and slumped against the desk. “Not weird, just, not what I’m used to dealing with. I can’t get a read on you as easily as I can the others, maybe because you have a different source?”

I couldn’t help her there. I laughed. “I’m fine being weird. It’s more fun that way. Do you need me to do anything else?” Just to show off, I moved my hands and the ship molded into a small, crystal dog instead.

She sounded tired. “A viable way to get away from all this permanently would be nice. But I think I got what I was looking for, sadly I don’t think it’ll be much use to either of our predicaments.” She reached out to touch the crystal again.

A way to escape. My smile slipped from my lips. The message from Shine’s phone number. How trapped I really was. I sat down and started thumbing through some pages. “I’ll work on it.” I kept reading, and I came across a passage that mention hearsay about the Shades manipulating emotions. Huh. It had felt like Churi had done something like that before. “If you want to learn more about the Shades, I’ve been thinking about another ability I think they have that hasn’t been publicized yet.”

“It’s hardly on you alone—” She cut herself off when she looked up at me with wide eyes.

Glad I could help, at least a little. I took a deep breath. “This is just an educated guess, and I don’t know how they do it, but a few days ago, Churi visited me. When he wrapped his hand around my neck and breathed in, it was as if he took away all my emotions except fear. I couldn’t feel anything else, and it took a while for my other emotions to fully come back even after he broke contact. I think they can take away emotions and possibly just choose what to keep. I’m not sure why or how, but that’s what I felt. And this book mentions something in passing about a possibility that they can manipulate emotions. So, other people think the same way.”

“Well, that’s…useful? Can we, Abyss, what can we do with that? It’s…absolutely terrifying.” Her head fell in her hands, and she groaned. “What have we gotten ourselves into? Gods and magic and nightmares from under the bed, wasn’t this all supposed to be children’s stories?” She sounded like she was trying to sound teasing as she tilted her head to look at me.

This had been my whole life. I laughed ruefully. “If only. I wonder sometimes if it would have been nicer to not know anything about this. To just have a normal life without living in fear that the Shades would discover me.” I looked over at her. Better to not dwell on that. “How did you find out about this anyway?”

“I stole a book on magic as a child and broke into Haven’s home to learn more about a week later.” In the most deadpan tone.

Really? Wow! A thief! I loved it. I laughed. “That’s fantastic!”

Her smile grew. “Yes, but that’s a lie, I didn’t break into Haven’s home. I broke into the highly volatile magical area that was being investigated by him and his group and sat in the middle of it until they finally caught me.”

So dramatic! Looked like we’d get along. I smirked. “A woman after my own heart. I wish I could have seen his expression.”

With a fake serious expression, she ticked off on her fingers. “Surprise, anger—lot of that one—, confusion, worry, interest—the most dangerous of course—, and would believe me if I said fear?” Her shoulders were shaking from the effort of not laughing, and, damn it, it was infectious. “I think I watched the extent of all his emotions in under five minutes.”

“That’s awesome.” I leaned back in my chair. This was fun, but I’d love to get up to some mischief. “I wish I could do something like that right now.” And then I had the perfect idea. I eyed Avery. “Does Haven happen to have a hat I can steal?”

“Oh this sounds like a terrible idea. Lucky for you, those are the only ideas I listen to.” She winked and grabbed her jacket, and I grinned and followed her. She was amazing. She kept to the shadows, and there were times that I lost her, and I was right behind her.

No one saw us, and we made it to an office without any trouble. She picked the lock of the door after checking to make sure no one was there, and she opened the door for me with a wink. Hell, she was attractive when she did that. Mischief looked good on her.

It was a neat office, which meant it was boring. The desk was all organized, and the bookshelf mostly had pictures on it. And there was a coat and hat on a rack, but it was just a plain, old hat. RIP.

I sighed and walked up to the hat. “He’s got boring taste.” I snatched it anyway and put it on my head, turning to Avery with a grin. “But I’d say it still looks pretty good on me!” More serious tone. “You’re really good at the whole sneaking thing. Would you be willing to teach me sometime?”

She shifted uncomfortably and bit her lip. “If we ever get a chance yeah, after I’ve gotten out of my own mess. Sell your soul and all that.” She shrugged.

Was she still talking about getting out of the Capitol? I nodded. “Don’t worry. I’m working on it.” I winked. “So, it’s a date.”

She looked confused. Maybe I was wrong? “Working on undoing handing myself—wait what?” She sputtered, and I grinned a little more. She was cute when she was flustered.

I put a finger on Avery’s lips. “Shh. Don’t worry. We can figure out the details later.” With a wink.

“Uhm. Yeah, what?” She winced, swallowed hard, and took a deep breath. “We should, uhh, get back before,” She waved her hand toward the hallway, turning away from me.

I nodded and bowed. “After you.”

I stayed and researched with Avery until she went back. When I was back in my room, I looked at the reply from Shine’s number. This is Shine, and I’d like to meet you, if you can.

I fought tears and set the phone down. I couldn’t respond yet. Who were they trying to fool? Or maybe they weren’t and I had been lied to? They had started with the code, after all. I just didn’t know if I wanted to take the chance yet.

#writeblr hunger games #writeblr

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fizzingwizard · 3 years

Text

Frantically playing catch up because I’m gone the rest of the weekend so here’s day 6 after all! Blatantly Takari. This one surprised me by how easy it was to write so it got a bit longer than the others. I’m sure there are many typos, please overlook. Also has two quotes, one in the text and one at the end, from my long-time favorite poet, Walt Whitman. BTW, I don’t really get everything that went down with Ordinemon, but I did my best to fit canon.

One month post-Bokura no Mirai, Takeru and Hikari go on a date and Hikari encounters something unexpected, which leads to a very overdue conversation with her brother.

Warning - there’s mention of the death of sick baby. It’s not huge but it matters to the story. I don’t want to shock anyone.

---

Tri week day 6 - Journeys - Death of a Comet

"How are you?" Takeru asked, watching her carefully.

Hikari only smiled and pretended not to notice. "I thought we'd known each other long enough to skip the niceties, Takeru-kun," she quipped. It was a far cry from her old playfulness, she knew, but she also knew he wasn't going to call her out for it it just yet.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Takeru rolled his eyes with an exaggerated, put-upon sigh. "I didn't realize relationship length was proportionate to amount of shits given."

"It is, at least when the last time we talked was an hour ago over text."

"Duly noted."

"Let's go?"

He nodded. He was wearing another hat she'd never seen before, a dark blue beret that looked about to tip off the side of his head with a light breeze. She wondered if he went out and bought a new hat each time before they went out together. Like how a girl shouldn't be caught in the same outfit twice. He probably did. That was Takashi Takeru, vain as fuck. But there was also something kind of adorable about it.

They'd "officially" been dating for a couple weeks, and Hikari wasn't sure yet how she felt about it. Of course, she'd agreed to it when he asked her. What else could she do? They'd been flirting and toying with each other off and on for years, in a childish way, but she couldn't pretend she didn't know full well what she was doing. She'd even sometimes daydreamed about what dating him would be like. Mostly she imagined it would be a lot of sitting in the bleachers at his basketball games.

She didn't consider Takeru the most mature of the boys in their year, but he wasn't as bad as some. Plus, they'd been through a lot together, so she knew what he was made of. And he really liked her. And she liked him. It seemed unavoidable. She'd said yes because she had no good reason for saying no.

It still felt a bit weird when he reached to hold her hand. Two weeks in, and they had yet to kiss. For the most part, it felt like nothing much had changed between them, except that Takeru no longer tried to hide his excitement when she was near. That was... flattering. And she had no qualms with taking it slow either.

They got on the Yurikamome train and stood together by a window, watching the Odaiba waterfront speed by as they traveled over the Rainbow Bridge. The sky was blue and cloudless. It was the kind of weather Tailmon loved, but Hikari had already talked to her about why she sometimes couldn't come along when she and Takeru went on an "outing." Tailmon had blinked lazily and said that was alright, and given her claws a long, purposeful lick. ”But if he ever hurts you, don't you dare hide it from me.”

Hikari promised, but thought the reverse scenario was far more likely.

Takeru had a more difficult time explaining it to Patamon, she'd heard. Supposedly, after Takeru had given his spiel about how growing up meant needing more time to oneself, Patamon had blurted out, "Are you going to kiss Hikari!? You've got to kiss her, Takeru!" loudly enough that some boys at school had overheard, and as a result everyone knew that they were an item before they'd even been out on a single date.

Such was life with Digimon.

"You know where it is, right?" Hikari asked as they got off the train.

"Yeah, I've come here with my mom for other exhibits," Takeru said, leading her out the exit and onto a busy street. "Mom's really into modern art. We've gone to see Kusama Yayoi's sculptures on Naoshima like four times. I'm pretty sure she goes whenever she breaks up with a boyfriend."

Hikari laughed. "Wait, really?"

"Well, she never introduces them to me, but I can tell when she's seeing someone. She touches up her roots more often."

The art exhibit they were going to see was some sort of interactive light show. Hikari had seen pictures online and thought it looked beautiful. Her father was of the opinion that they only ever put the best pictures on the website, and the rest of the exhibit was probably in some big, white-walled room that smelled like someone had microwaved fish for lunch. Her mom had been more enthusiastic, and added that, if the art did turn out to be a dud, it was as good an excuse as any to sneak off somewhere quiet with her Romeo and, you know, romance him.

Hikari was definitely not going to do that.

She'd timed things with care. Taichi had morning soccer practice until ten. After that he'd come home for lunch. The exhibit opened at eleven, but her concerns about there being a line fell on deaf ears, since Takeru claimed he knew this museum and it was never crowded. (Which didn't do much to mitigate her concerns about the exhibit being any good.) So the earliest she could convince him to catch the train was ten fifteen. So if she left right at ten and headed directly to the station, she ought to be able to miss her brother coming home completely.

It felt like fate was laughing in her face when she ran into him on her way out.

Her shock was mirrored on his face as they both stood in the doorway, staring at each other as if unable to understand why their biological sibling would be there, in their childhood home.

Taichi spoke first, if speech it could be called. "Uh," he said.

"Oniichan," she stammered back, "why - how - you got home fast."

"Yeah... Yamato was having band practice and he gave me a ride on the scooter," Taichi replied.

Hikari kept her mouth shut. Had Yamato orchestrated this? Was Takeru in on it? She knew it wasn't likely in either case, but her hackles were raised. "Oh," she said.

They continued to stand in the doorway. This was, Hikari reflected, the longest conversation they'd managed to keep going in almost a month.

"You... going somewhere?" Taichi asked after a while, tilting his head and looking up and down.

"Museum. With Takeru-kun."

"Oh. Well, have fun."

"Thanks."

As if suddenly realizing he was blocking the exit, Taichi stepped to the side, and Hikari barely restrained herself from running down the hall. The damage was done, though. The minute the elevator door closed, the tears started leaking down her face. Dammit. She'd been so careful.

She'd had to stop off at a nearby convenience store to hide in the restroom. She splashed her face and dabbed her eyes with her hand towel until they were less red, until the evidence of the havoc wreaked just by seeing her brother was hidden under a fresh layer of make-up. She never even wore make-up much before - after all, she was fourteen and blessed with good skin. Dating Takeru had been a convenient excuse to explain to her mom why she suddenly needed extra allowance for concealer, despite having no acne.

She wound up ten minutes late meeting Takeru and still, he could tell right away that something was wrong. She'd managed to deflect, but...

Hikari had never been any good at lying, even to herself. But she was surprised by her own cruelty, dating Takeru because she needed the distraction, an excuse to be anywhere but home. His feelings for her were genuine. She was a monster.

"Hikari-chan?" Takeru gave her a nudge that jolted her into the present. There was, indeed, no line to get in at the art show, and Takeru was trying to hand her a ticket. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

She nodded resolutely. "Yeah, of course."

"It's just, you're being kind of quiet."

"Well, sorry but I'm not a professional entertainer."

He didn't reply to that barb. Hikari felt even more miserable. If only Yamato's stupid motor scooter had broken down on the road...

They handed in their tickets and went through a pair of double doors, into a wide room lit by myriad streamers of blue and purple lights wafting on the air like strange, hypnotic jellyfish. No pictures were allowed, so Hikari kept her camera stowed, but she couldn't bring herself to regret it. Any pictures she tried to take while in such a stormy mood were bound to end up in the trash bin anyway.

They followed the path laid out through fiber-optic tallgrass in silence. Takeru was still gripping her hand, even though her own hung like a dead fish. The next section was a blacklight room with an even more obvious sci-fi vibe, bright cables painted brilliant colors in the impression of sea snakes creating circuitous archs on the walls and ceiling. The heat-sensor flooring lit under their feet as they walked.

Takeru leaned towards her, the blacklight setting his white T-shirt aglow. "This is like some disco-era alien planet," he joked, offering her the olive branch.

Well, she owed it to him not to let this date be a total disaster. "The room before reminded me of the tree in Avatar," she said.

"I bet the next one's gonna be something from Fifth Element."

"No way."

"Could be."

"Completely different aesthetic."

"It's gonna be that giant McDonald's sign made of stained glass. Wait and see."

It wasn't, of course. Takeru continued to insist they'd see the sign in the next room, and the next, until they reached the end of the exhibit, where he finally admitted defeat. At least room four had clearly been lifted from Finding Nemo, he said.

The final room was, in fact, an open space with white walls, but Hikari didn't notice any stomach-turning smells. A combination of 2- and 3D works of art were mounted around the room, and they took their time browsing, continuing to try to outwit each other with their increasingly outlandish, and even somewhat insulting, art critiques. It was a lovely show, Hikari thought. If she'd come to see it in a better frame of mind, she would be raving just now. But though she'd recovered her ability to match Takeru quip for quip, she still felt heavy with gloom. Geez, why did he want to date a rain cloud like her?

"Want to go for lunch?" Takeru asked as they took in the last piece of art, an abstract mosaic made of vibrant, blinking lights laid into a glass frame on a large tabletop. Hikari circled it slowly, watching lights ripple across the frame, stitching the full picture together bit by bit.

"Sure."

"There's a cafe my mom and I go to nearby. It does amazing pancakes."

"Sounds good," she said vaguely, her brow creasing in thought. She took a step back, gazing at the table from what she'd discovered was meant to be the foot, where you could see the picture in full if you craned your neck just so.

It wasn't abstract art. It was Ordinemon.

Her whole body stiffened.

"The orange marmalade pancakes are my favorite - you listening?" With a confused look, Takeru glanced from her unchanging expression to the table. His eyes went wide. "... Let's leave, Hikari-chan."

He gave her arm a tug. She didn't budge.

"Hikari-chan, there's no need to stay here. Come on."

"Why," she said. It came out in a harsh whisper, like a frozen wind. "Why would someone make art of... that."

Takeru didn't answer for a minute. "Because... they saw it," he said after a while. His grip on her arm tightened, as if expecting her to try to break away. "So they want to express what they saw."

"It's an abomination," she choked out. Humiliating tears welled up in her eyes.

Takeru seemed to hesitate. Then he stepped back, and his arms circled round her shoulders, locking her in a tight hug from behind. The warmth of his body flowed into her ice cold one, solid, real. Her mind flashed to another day, with a roiling sky black as night, when she'd come to in an unfamiliar bed with Takeru at her side and known, with a rush of deadly certainty, that she'd destroyed everything she ever cared about.

Her brother. Her beloved partner. Her friends.

By her own will.

She didn't know what she'd done. Or how. That almost made it worse, the not knowing. Her heart broke, watching her brother disappear in the earthquake. That was all. Her heart broke and she... stopped. And when she started again -

It was too late.

Tailmon had told her she didn't regret the fusion with Meicrackmon, that she'd been able to hold poor Meicoomon together, just a little longer. There was nothing for Hikari to regret, she said. Powers beyond her control. Yggrasil and Homeostasis felt they could wage their little war and pick their champions, and dispose of them when they felt like it. No sooner had she shaken off Homeostasis's hold over her that Ordinemon happened.

Hikari hated that once upon a time, she'd believed Homeostasis was a benevolent presence. That she'd willingly let her into her mind.

Now she didn't know what to believe.

Rage flared, hot as ice. Her whole world, none of it made sense anymore. She was adrift, she was unmoored, there was no safe harbor, not even in the brother who she loved like no one else. He could make a choice like that, to kill Meicoomon, to kill their friend's irreplaceable partner. The one person who deserved the most to be saved. And she'd helped, because that was what you did, on a team, at least, if you couldn't come up with a better plan yourself.

She realized she was shaking. Takeru only held her tighter, his nose buried in the crook of her neck.

"Hikari-chan," he said, and he sounded - terrified. "What if - what if it's not, though. What if it's not an abomination. What if..."

"How can you say that," she hissed frostily.

"I mean - I'm not saying it was good. I'm not saying I don't wish none of this had happened. But - I think - Ordinemon, she was created from despair, yours and Meicoomon's. She was used, and it tortured her. We freed her from that. She would have destroyed everything, even though it's not what she wanted, and she was in so much pain -"

"Stop!" Hikari yelled, pushing away from him. There was enough strength behind her need to get away and he was not expecting it, so he toppled to the floor while she raced out the exit. She kept running, hardly aware of dodging people on the sidewalk, and ran until she found herself in a small park with nothing but a two-seater swing set and metal slide. She sank into one of the swings and dropped her head in her arms. And cried.

Cried for Meiko, for Meicoomon. Cried for the future they would never have.

Cried for her brother, who had changed, and she understood why, but she still missed the way he used to be. Her guiding star.

Cried for herself, a lost comet streaking through an unfamiliar galaxy, wondering if she would vaporize shooting too close to an alien sun, or if she'd putter out slowly until she was nothing but lifeless, crumbling stone.

Her phone buzzed in her purse - Takeru, surely, trying to find her. On top of everything else, she'd ditched the boy she was stringing along, who cared about her, and who had tried so hard to let her know she wasn't alone. She didn't deserve Takeru. She would break up with him - she had to. He should be with someone stronger than her, who wasn't going to fall apart at the seams just from a silly piece of art at a museum gallery.

After a while the sobs let up enough that she could see without tears clouding her vision, and she figured she should at least let him know she was okay. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her messages.

12:35: Takaishi Takeru: i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to upset you.

12:35: Takaishi Takeru: where did you go? someone said you ran past the 7-11 but I have no idea where you went from there

12:37: Takaishi Takeru: please tell me where you are. If you don't want me to come, I won't. I can call someone if you want.

12:38: Takaishi Takeru: I just want to know you're okay

12:40: Takaishi Takeru: hikari-chan PLEASE respond

12:45: Takaishi Takeru: I asked at the 7-11 but they said they didn't see you. am walking around aimlessly now. no idea where to look.

12:48: Takaishi Takeru: hikari-chan if you don't reply soon I'm gonna have to call Taichi-san

12:52: Takaishi Takeru: wound up back at the train station, if you want to meet me here.

12:55: Takaishi Takeru: if you don't respond in five minutes I'm calling Taichi-san, I mean it.

12:58: Takaishi Takeru: I love you, by the way. think I always have. thought you might want to know

Fresh tears pricked her eyes. Leave it to Takeru. How could he pick now to spring that on her?

She should be happy. She wanted to be happy.

13:02: Me: I'm okay. I'm sorry. Go home. I'll talk to you soon.

Her finger hovered uncertainly over the keypad. She typed:

The real abomination is me.

Then she deleted it, and pressed Send.

---

Little though she wanted to go home, Hikari didn't have an excuse for staying out past dinner. She stayed in the little park until it started to get chilly. A couple times, the occasional grandma stopped to ask if she was alright, but she smiled and waved away their concerns. Finally, when twilight fell over the park in a gossamer curtain, she stood and stretched out the kinks in her back before heading back to the station. It felt like she'd been out much longer than a few hours. She thought briefly of asking a friend if she could spend the night, but didn't like the idea of needing to pretend to be peppy and cheerful.

On the ride back, she did a search on the artist who'd made the Ordinemon mosaic. Why, she had no idea. Some self-hating side that wanted her to hurt, she guessed.

The artist's name was Matsuyama Risa, a Tokyo-based sculptor, whose partnership with Fujii Fiber-optics had given birth to the displays they'd seen today. Hikari let her eyes skim the article, categorically uninterested in the number of lights used or how they were installed. What she wanted to know appeared like magic, tacked on at the very end of the article.

Art of Nippon Now: The last room in the showcase features a magical light-up mosaic of a subject that could be disconcerting for some viewers. What led you to recreate the monster that much of Tokyo watched terrorize the sky last month?

Matsuyama: I put that piece together in a feverish rush. Most of these installations took weeks to install, but I insisted on this one, even though it was such short notice. I had to have it. I heard that many people never saw more of her than her massive wings, but I happened to have a very clear view at the time. It made a huge impression on me.

ANN: You said her?

Matsuyama: It was a she. Or, perhaps it's better to say she might not have a gender, but she deserves better than the pronouns we use for inanimate objects, things without personality.

ANN: Are you saying this monster was a person?

Matsuyama: I don't know if you heard her cries, but they were deafening. They reminded me of how my son wailed in the night when he was first born. We didn't know why he was so colicky. Nothing we did calmed him. I was so afraid that he wasn't getting enough sleep. It turned out he was very sick and we just didn't know. The illness was hidden. We spent many nights in the ICU, holding out hope that he would be alright. I remember thinking, if he wasn't, it would destroy our marriage.

ANN: That sounds like a terrible experience.

Matsuyama: When our son died, it was terrible, but it also came as a relief. At least we knew he was no longer suffering. I was depressed for months. I couldn't make any art. Every day I expected my husband to leave me. The first day I pulled myself together enough to sketch something, he said I should sketch our son sometime.

ANN: So your husband didn't leave?

Matsuyama: No. He stayed by my side. When I cried that he deserved a woman who could make him happy, who would give him healthy babies, he told me I was the strongest woman he knew, and that I'd given him the best son in the world.

ANN: Wow - would that we all meet men like that.

Matsuyama: And women. That's why, although the creature that appeared over Tokyo was very frightening to look at, when I heard her cries all I heard was suffering. I thought, that is a real creature, who wants her pain to be understood. She represents something. Perhaps she was sent to show us the harm we do when we choose not to act to help others. She shouldn't be forgotten.

ANN: So you memorialized her in this mosaic?

Matsuyama: Yes. It was the right moment, even though I had no time. I wanted to recreate her likeness using lights. I set her into a table, because I felt that putting her on a wall would be too imposing, and viewers would only remember the fear she engendered. Lying down, it would seem as if she were in a coffin, finally laid to rest. But she's lit from within, and it's the light of life, desperately clinging on till the final moment, the same as any being with a soul.

ANN: Did you ever complete the sketch of your late son?

Matsuyama: No. I never did. But I think I will soon. I want to lay him to rest in my heart.

ANN: It's interesting that when you say 'lay to rest,' you seem to mean we should remember them.

Matsuyama: Our memories make us who we are. The past is always with us. My son, that creature, they are both part of my journey, as an artist of course, but also as a person in the world. You could say my son is the light of the world and that creature is the darkness, but I hold both light and dark in me, just by existing and being human.

ANN: You added a quote to the piece that said something of that nature.

Matsuyama: Yes, from a Walt Whitman poem, 'Song of Myself.' The quote reads: "I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also."

ANN: Maybe Whitman never expected his poem to be used in this way.

Matsuyama: That's the nature of art. It is a journey in and of itself. It fluctuates and changes to nourish the times. I hope everyone who sees my art understands that they are on a journey as well, and everything they do creates the work of art called "the future."

ANN: Thank you for your time, Matsuyama-sensei.

---

Her brother was home, but her parents were not. The arrangement of shoes in the entryway said as much. Taichi was seated at the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of noodles and reading something. He looked up when the door opened and pushed his seat back.

"Hikari - you okay?" He peered at her, concerned. "Takeru didn't do something stupid, did he?"

So Takeru hadn't told her brother that she'd run off. Gratitude flooded through her. "No, of course not."

"Good." Taichi's hand rifled through his hair, the other planted on his hip, and he looked perplexed. "Then why do you look like you've been crying all day?"

Hikari walked inside and sank down on the couch. "Because I have been crying all day."

She could feel his hesitance as he wavered in the hall, trying to decide if he should press her for more. If that was still something he was allowed to do. She knew he would try. He wouldn't be Taichi if he didn't.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked, moving to sit on the arm of the couch, but he didn't relax, as if expecting her to tell him to leave her alone.

"No," she replied.

He nodded. "Okay." There was a pause. "You're sure Takeru didn't -"

"No, Oniichan."

"Okay, okay."

She sat there for a few minutes, staring blankly at the black TV screen. Soon Taichi slid off the arm into the seat beside her, allowing several inches of space between them. He didn't try to talk anymore. Didn't even get up to bring his bowl of noodles over, even though it was going to get cold.

Hikari tilted her head ever so slightly to peer at him. Dark circles ringed his eyes. She knew he hadn't been sleeping well. Something about his face looked more defined, less roundness to his jaw, starker cheekbones. Hadn't been eating much either, she guessed. It gave him an oddly grown up look. She would have to call him on losing weight from not taking care of himself, but that could wait for later. She was struck by how little he looked like their father. Everyone always said Hikari was the spitting image of her mom, so it seemed natural that Taichi should take after their dad, but though she searched she couldn't find many similarities. Taichi was just Taichi.

He gave a start when she leaned toward him and settled her head on his shoulder, but didn't say anything.

Hikari thought about many things.

How unbearable it was to feel helpless. How much she wanted everyone who cared about each other to be together, and for no one to suffer who didn't deserve it. How deeply she loved her friends. How easy it was fall apart.

Maybe all that meant was her worldview had been too delicate to begin with. A painting on a porcelain vase wouldn't stand the test of time unless handled with the best of care. The real world was too chaotic, too disordered. She could wrap her dream in newspaper, cover it in packing peanuts, tape it into a box marked "Fragile," and it would still end up in shards. She would try to put it together again, but the pieces were sharp, and she kept cutting herself on them.

She still wanted it. So, so much.

"You stay that way. You can hate me if you want," her brother had told her. Trying to put everything on his own shoulders, as usual.

"I will probably never forgive you," she'd said, and wouldn't let him. "But that's why I'll fight with you."

"Oniichan," She slipped off his shoulder, buried her face in his chest. She didn't know how she could still have more tears, but they darkened her brother's shirt as her hands hugged him tight. "I'll always fight with you."

Surprised, he didn't move for a moment, but then his arms wrapped around her the same way they always had, ever since she was small. His grip was sure, but not out of naivety. Yes, he'd lost his innocence. It wasn't coming back. But what grew in his place, she realized, was his choice. And she got the feeling he'd already decided.

"That's good to know," he murmured softly, lashes brushing her cheek, and she thought they might be wet as well. "Because I'm never going to stop fighting for you."

They held each other for a long time.

---

The next day, Hikari showed up at Takeru's door with flowers and a box of chocolates. He made a funny face, looking her over.

"Flowers and chocolates? Shouldn't this be reversed?"

"Didn't know you were such a traditionalist," she joked. "But I'll eat these myself if they hurt your manly pride."

A hesitant grin spread over his face. "To hell with convention. Those are my chocolates, keep your paws off them."

It was silly, and cliche, but this was her life. She could be as silly and cliche as she wanted. She pulled his shoulders down and kissed him. It was light and quick, but he still looked flustered when they parted.

"My mom's home," he said with an unmistakable note of regret.

Hikari only nodded. "Figured. Video games and chocolates?"

The grin unfurled for real. "Yeah, that would be great."

Nothing had ended. She hadn't gotten over anything. But she felt, for the first time, that now she could accept it. It was a piece of who she was, and it would be a piece of who she became. But just who that person would be, she intended to decide for herself. Even if her path got buried under mountains of broken shards of glass, that was just a part of being Yagami Hikari.

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes)."

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