#Whatever. Had it in 2020 for the whole summer then it went away so i thought nothing of it and now its back. For about 2 months now maybe 3

[funkervogt]

Ok has anyone with a minor tic been able to get rid of it cause this shit is getting annoyingggggg

#Im able to suppress it but only when i remember to lol. Its like #Its a head tilt at the apex of a deep breath or at the thought of something i dont wanna think about. ITS ANNOYING TF OUT OF ME #And its like embarassing idk like its barely noticeable because it probably just looks like a bug flew by my ear #Whatever. Had it in 2020 for the whole summer then it went away so i thought nothing of it and now its back. For about 2 months now maybe 3 #I dont fuckin know😁 #Im hesitant to call it a tic but like it happens automatically and i definitely did not train myself to do it...Idk girl. The human mind.

[letteredlettered]

@yellowwallsbluesky asked about new Untamed end!

ahhhhh here is 27,745 words of wangxian that will never see the light of day. Thank you for asking!

I mentioned in my post about lwjwwx2 that I had a really hard time writing CQL fic partly because I just could not imagine WWX having any sex or even being particularly romantic. In CQL, he strikes me as very in love, but not in a romantic or sexual way. The problem was a little bigger than that, though, because I also could not imagine LWJ having sex. To be clear, I thought of LWJ as extremely romantic and sexual. But while LWJ's desire comes across as extremely intense, he's so hellbent on doing whatever WWX wants and whatever would make WWX comfortable, never pushing a single thing on WWX at all. In the second half of the show LWJ strikes me as extremely passive unless WWX needs him; he lets WWX get away with everything and expresses himself so little and so poorly that I just didn't see how these kids could get it together! That was 2020 - summer 2023. Then I was on the couch and thinking about them and could suddenly imagine it happening! So I started writing.

If this was a real fic I assume it would make some people extremely impatient. It takes place directly after CQL, and neither of them have any idea what they want from each other or what they can be to each other. I've seen plenty of people say it's unrealistic for them not to understand each other by then. But for me personally it makes sense that you could love someone with your whole heart and never once consider sex or romance, so to me CQL does not come across as romance but rather the prequel to one that is not necessary consummated (even with kisses) in the next scene after the end.

The premise is that after the end of CQL they go back to Cloud Recesses. LWJ knows that WWX arouses him and that he wants to be as close as humanly possible, but this doesn't really correlate in his mind to wanting to have sex and get married. He doesn't even think about sex. He just wants, all the time, a undefined longing that feels desperate and unstable to him. Meanwhile he's determined to do anything in his power to make WWX feel safe and comfortable and welcome.

It's not really a characterization of LWJ that makes sense to me now. I think I just needed to get it down to deal with idk, the way the censorship makes CQL so weird. I think the way I would read CQL!LWJ now is that he knows he wants WWX romantically and sexually but has difficulty communicating it with words and also does not want to impose, because people have asked so much of WWX and WWX is so willing to sacrifice himself for people he loves, and LWJ does not want WWX sacrificed. The reason this WIP is labelled "new" is that I went back and started changing the LWJ characterization so he was someone who knew what he was doing.

Meanwhile, the WWX is actually more knowing than I see him now. He comes back to Cloud Recesses with LWJ and feels restless and confused about his place there. He doesn't feel like he has a real role and even if LWJ really likes him, he doesn't understand what he could be here. But then LWJ just keeps giving and giving and giving, and WWX becomes very aware of what it looks like, from the outside. WWX has never been concerned about reputation for himself, but he is aware that reputation is a thing, and he cares about it for LWJ, so he notices. And when he notices that other people think they're a couple, he also realizes that it's what LWJ wants too. And WWX's reasoning is basically "well, why not? I'd give him anything; if he wants it, he can take it."

So he pushes and pushes on the boundary of friendship. It's obvious he's not doing it because he wants it because he thinks LWJ does. But it's also obvious he's not against it and that he doesn't know what he wants and that he would rather be something for LWJ than nothing at all. The idea was going to be that after they finally have sex, WWX grows addicted to the cuddling and intimacy that occurs afterwards and wants it all the time--because he doesn't really want it otherwise. He struggles to accept that kind of intimacy unless there's an act of service involved, because he doesn't really feel worth of it.

I actually think that this was the breakthrough for me. Once I realized that WWX would very much like to be held but doesn't really know how to let it happen unless there's a good reason for it, I finally felt like I could write him and write the whole wangxian dynamic. Of course, my WWX changed too; I am definitely more likely to write him now as not having a clue about what LWJ wants from him. That said, I read this fic, and I still buy that WWX could see that LWJ wants this from him and that his response is "sure, I'll do anything," even if he doesn't necessarily feel strong sexual attraction. That WWX gets off on service, which is still something I can buy.

Anyway I only got 25% of the way through shifting the LWJ characterization when I started writing Say More, and I realized I never really had a goal or end for this fic. It was just something I needed to write to get to know the characters--though I will say, I reread it to write this post, and I still really enjoy it!

#wangxian #wips #my fics

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

sighing like an old dog

literally nobody gets it. nobody gets it and i can’t even put it in words properly so nobody gets it even more. i really planned to go to school A four years ago but my current school, which i had only applied to as a backup plan and that people generally see as inferior to others in the system, gave me the scholarship that essentially covered half my tuition—the most money i had ever had in my whole life. i would have been stupid not to take that, even though i secretly wished someone else had given it. and when school A offered nothing, it was even clearer which one i should take. i went into this all thinking of it as the economic choice, the practical choice; i didn’t follow my heart to my current school and i just resolved to do my best regardless of my feelings.

but now school A is fully funding me to come to them and keeps fucking bothering me to submit my statement of intent to register and sign up for housing that doesn’t have air conditioning and they won’t publicly show on their website, and i know that 2020 me would be jumping at the opportunity to get out, but 2024 me does not feel that way. four years and i have come to like my current school, come to appreciate the chance it gives to underrepresented students to shine and succeed. sure, many of my peers came to my current school as a backup plan and are vocal in their indifference to the community, but so many others are first-generation students, undocumented, came from backgrounds far from privilege, were given the opportunity to study at the university and seized it with both hands. i’ve met so many professors who made their home here and are so excited about the work they do, about outreach and lifting students up and making a difference in a community that is so often the butt of jokes about our politics or not being as bougie as other regions or whatever

it’s not being prideful that is making me think about how school A did not at first offer me funding and now gives it to me. i mention it because i am consumed by how my current school started out as the economic choice and ended up being like a home. and even though picking school A would be the choice of my younger self, would not make it look like my current school was the only one to take me, and would result in the lesser amount of scrutiny from people who think i settled for less when i picked my current school—i don’t know if i could make it feel like home. i never know if i don’t try, but…

i was born near school A. i’ve been back there almost every summer. the area of my early childhood no longer feels that way. it’s gotten overgrown, sprawling, urban; teslas on the streets, luxury cars everywhere, exorbitant housing prices that would make it impossible to live anywhere but on campus. designer clothes, fashionable, consumerism. which exists elsewhere, but it’s not the place i remember from when i was a child. not the place i played in with my best friend who moved away to england for uni. i wondered why she didn’t stay. i wonder if she’ll come back.

i don’t know. i just want to lie down and cry. why must this be so difficult

#grad decision venting

[tantai-jin]

5 “no-skip” albums

okay i have to preface this by saying that i will almost always have the potential to skip songs just based on my mood. i don’t think i have any albums that i would truly never skip any of the tracks of, bc a good album encompasses most of the spectrum of emotion but often times i only want to feel a certain subset of emotions so i skip songs even though i think they are good. maybe this is very normal and i don’t need to explain this. but just in case. sorry

thank u beloved @englishsub for the tag 💓

shinee - the shinee world - 2008

obv i had to put a shinee album in here somewhere… so hard to pick but i went w their first one bc it’s the most ~timeless~ despite the clear retro-y sounds.. the past few years i find myself coming back to it a lot even when i think some songs on different albums are a lot stronger. who else (in korea) in the last 10 yrs has been putting out debut albums like this? no one

yoga lin - fiction - 2012

i started listening to this album in 2014-2016? not sure exactly, but it’s had a grip on me ever since. the range between tracks is so good, and 浪费 (unrequited) and 傻子 (fool) are two of my songs of all time. this was only solidified when i finally got to see him in concert a month ago - really artistic and beautiful and so so cathartic to have the whole audience sing along together for like every other song :,)

kenshi yonezu - stray sheep - 2020

i don’t have a v deep backstory for this one or whatever tbh… adding this one in here for a little more genre variety but also i do rly like his music. i heard lemon in 2019, got obsessed w it, and then started listening to his discography in like 2020 after the pandemic started and i needed more upbeat music i didn’t understand to listen to while working. the vibes in his songs are always gr9 and also great driving music

hua chenyu - new world - 2020

found huahua some time in 2020 as part of my newfound chinese renaissance exploration or whatever haha. before then i wasn’t very familiar w a lot of chinese music beyond a handful of more famous artists, bc i didn’t Grow Up listening to that in my household and i didn’t have a great idea of where to explore online apart from youtube, but i found this album on spotify and became even more obsessed when i started watching all his tv performances. some people don’t rly like him bc of his ~scandal~ w zhang bichen which i understand n agree w to some extent but artistically he is really special and i’m always blown away by his live performances even tho i watch through a screen. he’s like kind of a crazy artist and i respect the way he channels it so much. his music is so good and this album was like, part of a Shift for me! wao

jonghyun - the collection story op. 2 - 2017

putting this one last bc it’s the most significant to me. i can’t listen to poet | artist often but i come back to this album more frequently. comforting and feels like a hug. and i’m always, always grateful that i was in seoul in summer 2017 and was able to go to two of his final solo concerts in july and see these songs live. 덕분에 내 평생이 따뜻해 💙

[sum2000port]

the death card    summer

i died when i felt my first unexplained panic attack, triggered by what seemed like an inane message. i was confused, paralyzed, short of breath—i went up to my room and laid on my floor in the summer heat, listening to some daniel caesar song to ground myself. i’ve had anxiety before, but always around specific and distinct events. this was notably different; nothing had happened, and yet i was feeling the fear of a caveman being actively hunted by a lion.

the panic didn't go away. i paced around my house, i folded some laundry, i talked to my parents.

the panic didn't go away. i reached into the depths of my mind, trying to pull out a reason. i willed a reason into existence.

the panic didn’t go away. i confronted what i thought was my trigger; it made my panic worse. i didn’t sleep. i took sleep medication that made me hallucinate. i dissociated through a family trip to seattle. i made my mom sleep in the bed with me while i was kept awake by a burning, hollow feeling in my chest.

the panic never fully went away. when i tried to take pictures of myself, the photos turned out blurry from my uncontrollable hand shaking. i started anxiety medication. i got a therapist. i waited for a fix, for something i could do to make me revert back to normal, for something that could just undo whatever glitch my brain had.

i didn’t know that i had already buried my pre-ptsd self until a year later. for months, i was trying to reanimate her. i robbed her grave to feel like her again, to no avail. i felt like eve trying to sneak back into the garden. i couldn’t un-eat the apple; it was shoved whole down my throat, stem and core and seeds scratching my insides.

something else grew back to take the space of the hollowness i felt. it was shaped like me, sort of, but smaller, more twisted. that june day in 2019 marked the death of that Summer. i was  born in a cage and have to learn how to take steps outside of it. people’s words feel sharper—did they always sound like that? sometimes neutral statements still have me looking for danger signs. if something so innocuous as a text set me off that day, who’s to say it won’t happen again? consciously, i don’t believe that, but my body remembers.

what am i now, with my new life? ptsd summer is 4 years old. it’s june again and i’m in my bedroom, lying in bed. i’m okay, i guess, in the sense that i’m not actively in an episode. most of the time, i am okay. most of the time, i can sleep. my body still functions, despite the increased wear and tear it has been subject to since 2019. the birds chirp the same way outside my window at 6 am as they did when i was five, getting ready for kindergarten. the cool, crisp morning air smells as good now as it did that one day in 2020, where i breathed it in and realized my life was still my own.

i’ve visited my grave many times over the years. i’m inevitably visiting it now as i write this. i’ve come to it for pity parties, for bargaining, for prayers. today i stand above it rather neutrally; i have flowers, and i’m thinking of her, but i’m getting accustomed to these composed visits. i’m holding a bouquet of sunflowers, which was my favorite. i like tulips more now.

[incomingalbatross]

GF Fic: (Insert Time-Related Pun Here)

Having a birthday on the last day of summer was great when you were a kid.

When you were in college and vacation ended somewhere in the last third of August? Not so much.

“Grunkle Ford, I...I don’t think Mabel and I can make it to Gravity Falls,” Dipper confessed, the day before his twenty-second birthday.

“Is it the travel time?” Ford asked from the other end of the phone. “If your usual transportation is too slow, we can call in a favor or two for you kids—I know plenty of entities that would be happy to give you a lift as a birthday present—”

“No, I know, I know,” Dipper said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “And I really appreciate that, Grunkle Ford, I just...it’s not the travel, it’s being there. The other years we’ve been in college, our birthday was always on a weekend—last year was a Monday, but we spent that year with you guys instead of in school—”

“Thank goodness that seer tipped us off about her vision of 2020!” Ford agreed. “Taking a gap year to sail the Arctic with us was definitely the right decision for you two.”

“Right? Half a semester of online classes was more than enough. But—I mean, maybe it’s being back in school after being gone for a year, maybe it’s just early-semester problems, but...” Dipper sighed. “It’s just, I’m taking five classes, and I’ve got a TA job this year, and I’m getting back into the DD&MD group again and maybe planning to DM a oneshot as a Halloween event, and...” He sighed again. “It all looked much more manageable on my schedule. It was color-coded and everything!”

Grunkle Ford hummed noncommittally.

“Yeah, I know,” Dipper admitted. “Not the first time I’ve overbooked myself.”

“Not quite, perhaps. But it’s very good that you’re learning to recognize it and take steps to take care of yourself—when I was in college, I burned out routinely.”

“Mabel would sic the ‘Self-Care Fairy’ on me again if I didn’t learn.” The “Self-Care Fairy” was a truly terrifying onslaught of Mabelness, complete with costume and character voice, and would not go away until its subject had reached an acceptable level of well-being and had examined their mistakes. “Which is why...I have to cancel. If I came to Gravity Falls, even with instant travel, I’d only be able to get there around like 5:00 PM and I’d be stressed and anxious the whole time. And then I’d get back here exhausted and with no homework done and with class tomorrow, and...I just don’t think I can afford that.” Dipper paused, a knot twisting in his stomach. “I’m really sorry, I wish we could come...”

“Of course, Dipper, we know you do!” Grunkle Ford hastened to assure him. “Don’t feel sorry for us—of course we’d love to see you, but we just had the summer together. I’m just sorry you’re so short on time.” There was a moment’s silence.

“But how is Mabel doing? Is she facing the same challenges?”

“I mean, sort of.” Dipper smiled ruefully. “She kept trying to figure out some solution so that we could have our usual birthday and everything would work out, but...neither of us could come up with anything that would actually work. And she’s really busy too. She jumped back into school full steam ahead, and she’s got her Etsy store, and all her social groups to keep up with—you know she’s better at managing her energy than I am, but it’s still a lot.”

“I understand that,” Ford said. “You both do what you need to to keep up with your responsibilities, okay? We’re very proud of you both, you know.”

Dipper swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know, Grunkle Ford.”

“Well, then, I’ll let you go—I imagine you have plenty to do right now! We’ll get in touch with you tomorrow, even if only by text.”

“Thank you, Grunkle Ford! Mabel and I are going to video-call at some point, we think, so there’s that. Say hi to Stan and Soos and Melody and the kids and everyone for me?”

“Of course, my boy. Have a good evening.”

“You too.”

The call disconnected, and Dipper sighed, throwing himself down on his bed. After a minute, he picked up his phone again and texted Mabel.

Just called Ford and canceled plans. He said to take care of ourselves and that he and Stan are proud of us.

Then he pushed himself into the homework for tomorrow until his phone buzzed.

Aww, of course he did. <3 Thanks for calling, brobro. I wish we could go, but you were right--I’ve got WAY too much booked. Why didn’t we check what weekday our birthday was FIRST???

Dipper snorted. Maybe we’re dumb :/

IMPOSSIBLE, Mabel sent back. Clearly an evil College Schedule Gremlin messed with our brains

Is that the same guy who makes it so you can never take the prereqs you need when you need them?

Yep!! And the one who fogs your brain so you THINK you’ve filled all your requirements until it’s too late to patch up the holes in your plan. His phone buzzed a second time after that text. ...Ugh, maybe there ARE gremlins in all the college systems

It would explain Blackboard, Dipper agreed with a frown. Huh, maybe they should look into that...

Anyway, though, u good for Zoom tomorrow?

Dipper huffed, reminded of the fact that they had no time for a paranormal investigation right now. Yeah, he typed, I can do an hour or so anytime after 5:30.

Cool, I will figure out a time and let you know!! Can’t wait to see your 22-year-old face!! :) Even if it sucks that we can’t party :(

Same, same. TTYL :)

Dipper tossed his phone aside again, shutting his eyes for a minute. It wasn’t just the party that had him down—though he would miss the bash that Gravity Falls usually threw on their birthday. It was...everything.

It was having a birthday without Mabel.

Oh, sure, they would talk, but they wouldn’t be in the same place. That was why, really, he’d hung onto their plans until the very last minute. He’d made it work on paper—taking an evening to travel to Gravity Falls, have a party, and be back in time for the next class—and it just felt wrong to admit defeat, to compromise on something this important. Their birthday meant the two of them celebrating together, having a good time, acknowledging that it was important.

This year wasn’t going to feel like a birthday at all, Dipper thought glumly.

But no, that was quitter talk. They were going to do their best anyway, because they were the Mystery Twins! Even if the situation was lame. Even if he was going to spend his time on the call with Mabel tomorrow doing homework and/or bursting with stress.

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Why do I always overfill my schedule?” he asked plaintively.

The ceiling didn’t answer.

---

Dipper dropped his backpack with a thud on his dorm room floor, hastily unzipping it and digging out his laptop. He was late—he’d left his thermos in his last classroom, and been halfway across campus before he realized and turned around to go get it. He blamed his sleep deprivation (a week in, and his body still hadn’t readjusted to the rhythm of morning classes).

Now, though, he could finally pull up Zoom. He plugged in his headphones as he waited for it to connect (stupid dorm wifi), and was rewarded with an ear-splitting squeal.

“Happy birthday, Dipper!”

He grinned at her beaming face. “Happy birthday, Mabel!”

“Did you get a birthday cupcake?” she demanded. “Or at least a birthday cookie?”

He grimaced. “I got ice cream at the cafeteria, but I had to eat it there,” he confessed. “Here, I’ve got...a birthday candy bar?”

“Hmph.” Mabel looked crestfallen, but plastered a smile on anyway. “It’ll have to do! We can sing Happy Birthday, anyway. One, two, thr—”

Before they could launch into an inevitably out-of-sync rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Dipper heard a loud knock. Judging by Mabel’s startled turn towards her door, she heard it too—

Wait, what?

The knocking repeated. On both their doors.

“..Huh,” Mabel said thoughtfully. With a wordless glance between them, they both unplugged their headphones and went to their respective doors.

“Happy birthday, slugger!” Stan said, grinning, the instant he saw Dipper. Over the internet, Ford’s voice was greeting Mabel at the same time.

Dipper’s jaw dropped.

“Ha!” Grunkle Stan shoved past him into the room. Waving to the camera, he added, “Happy birthday, sweetie!”

Ford peered past Mabel into the screen. “Happy birthday, Dipper, my boy!”

“But—what—”

“Grunkles!” Mabel cried. “...But wait, why not just video call us? Not that we’re not happy to see your wrinkly faces, but you came such a long way!”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dipper said, waving his arm in confusion. “You guys—you know we can’t really visit, right? Even with you with us? We don’t have time. I dont want you guys to waste a trip—”

“But we didn’t,” Ford said smugly. “We came to bring your birthday presents.”

With a flourish, Stan produced something and handed it to Dipper. It looked like...a piggy bank, but with a clock face set into the side?

Mabel gasped. “It’s so CUTE!”

“But what is it, Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked.

“Simply put, my boy...it’s time.”

“It’s a Time-Savings Bank,” Stan said proudly. “Got our hands on these babies a few months ago, on a little side trip. See, when you’ve got some extra time—like, at night, or when you’re waiting for a pot to boil, or whatever—you can use these gizmos to store it up instead! Then when you need more time, you use the clock to take it back out. Whammo! You squeeze in a few extra hours between the normal ones.”

“Like Daylight Saving Time without the false advertising,” Ford added. “We know you two are short on time right now, but...if you’d like, there’s enough in here to give you and everyone currently at the Mystery Shack a good few hours of spare time. What do you say, kids? Still up for a party?”

“Are we!” Mabel crowed.

Dipper stared at this miraculous device. “But...that’s a lot of hours,” he said. “Where did you get the time?”

Stan barked out a laugh. “You kiddin’, Dipper? We figured from the start that at least one of you would burn out when you went back to school. We’ve been putting time aside in these things for months.”

“...Really?” Dipper said. Somehow, he found himself blinking rapidly, and swallowing down some obstruction in his throat.

Stan coughed uncomfortably, looking away. “I mean, it’s not like we gave you any time we had a use for. Just some odds and ends here and there...every day... Anyway! You kids wanna get this show on the road?”

“YES!” Mabel shouted.

Dipper beamed. “Definitely,” he said. “Absolutely.”

And a few minutes later, when they all found themselves in the Shack (courtesy of one of those “favors” Ford had mentioned yesterday), and Dipper had piled into the inevitable group hug with his twin and his grunkles—and with hours of birthday celebration in front of them all—he had to add, “Best present ever.”

#did i neglect my college homework to write this? yes. yes i did #anyway #happy birthday dipper and mabel! #belated in my timezone but NOT ON THE WEST COAST so it WORKS #gravity falls #mystery twins #dipper pines #mabel pines #pines family #my fic #i did not proofread this At All so...there may be glaring errors #i'll find out later

[jeonqqin]

man up. [m] | pt. 3

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 4k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNINGS: slight angst?, gross/cringy couple, language

A/N: Hyunae is a normal person guys 🤭

▸ request

CHAPTERS:  01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

© jeonqqin 2020

—UNEDITED

“Don’t even think about it.”

Jisung froze in place, his eyes wide. He hadn’t even said a word and you were already angry with him? He didn’t even know how you could tell it was him—your back was turned and you were staring intently down at your laptop. And he certainly hadn’t expected you to snap at him when he finally found you tucked away in the library.

“Huh?”

“If you plan on bothering me while I’m studying, I will not hesitate to throw my laptop at your head.” You threatened, not once taking your eyes off your notes.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Jisung defended, suddenly ready to block any flying objects from hitting his head. “I just got here!”

You turned your head to send a quick glare to him, just to make sure he knew you weren’t happy with him, before resuming your typing.

To say you weren’t happy with how your little dinner went the other day, would’ve been an understatement. You were currently giving the silent treatment to three of the five people who were at the table and even though you really had no reason to be mad at Jisung, he pushed your buttons so you wanted him away. Unfortunately, it seemed that you had grown a parasite.

“Come on, Y/n. Seriously?” Jisung asked.

Your head shook, eyes rolling in dismissal.

“Yes. I’m—” you sighed, hand lifting to rub over your eyes. You were tired and your eyes hurt. What were you studying again? “I’m serious, you asshole. I need to get this shit done and over with.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Yes.”

Even without looking at him you could tell he was pouting, his lip pulled up and brows furrowed.

“I didn’t do anything this time!” Jisung defended, rounding the table to look you in the eye. “Why’re you mad at me?”

He sounded so much like a scolded child, it took everything in your being not to just grab your stuff and leave. Though, as tempting as the thought was, he’d probably just follow you and you’d be right back at the start.

“You’re annoying.” You answered simply.

He stood there for a moment, watching you with too much intensity for your liking. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, his eyebrows slowly forming into a frown as the seconds tick by. It was unnerving to say the least.

But finally, Jisung sighed, reaching over to shut your laptop.

You gawked at his blatant disregard of your words.

“I—” You stammered, reaching out to grab his wrist in whatever attempt you were making to stop his disruptive behavior. “You can’t—!”

“When was the last time you ate?” He asked, freezing you in your spot.

When… did you eat last?

He waited for your protests and whines but none came, there was just a big puff of the last bit of your resilience. Jisung rolled his eyes fondly, his way of silently saying, “yeah, exactly”. So he continued onward, pulling your chair out and sliding your laptop into your bag.

“Let’s go.” He droned, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of your chair.

You released a small groan in defiance but it was short-lived as Jisung maneuvered your head to rest on his shoulder, one of his arms wrapping securely around your waist to keep you from going limp.

It hasn’t been the first time he had to drag you away from the library, and it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. You were too stubborn for your own good.

You sighed, finally just slipping into the warmth of Jisung’s shoulder. “You don’t have to baby me, you know.”

You felt Jisung’s body shake in a silent chuckle.

“I know. But I want to.”

You had always felt strange whenever Jisung took care of you. It wasn’t like Minho, who was your actual brother. Your relationship with Jisung was something that felt both artificial and natural all at the same time. He felt obligated to help you just as Minho did, but that only made things between the two of you feel fake. Though you knew he sincerely cared about your wellbeing.

If only he would stop trying to fit into that mould that Minho built around himself. Maybe then Jisung and you could be really good friends. But that would never happen while he was trying to compensate and prove whatever it was that he was trying to prove to whoever he was trying to prove it to.

Maybe after that he could be more than your brother's best friend.

“Lix is going to punch me if I miss our lunch again.” You huffed into the fabric of his... sweater?

When did he start wearing those?

Jisung patted your arm, “Well, he won’t be punching you today. You need to eat.”

Your eyebrow raised as you shifted enough to look at him.

“And you’re going to carry me the whole way?”

“Of course.” He nodded without a second thought, a proud smile on his face. “Where are we going?”

Jisung could be really cute sometimes, and you couldn’t help but smile at that realization. He thrived off of making other people feel good, and when he succeeded, he got giddy.

You struggled to pull your phone from your back pocket, scrolling through all the messages you and Felix sent that morning. You hummed, “Felix said we were going to Haven.”

Exiting the library, Jisung groaned, “Again? We just went yesterday.”

You shrugged against him. “He has a soft spot for Jeongin.”

Finally reaching the chilly air waiting outside of the university building, you cursed under your breath. No matter how many layers you threw on, the autumn wind was always there to seep through them, nipping at your sensitive skin. The leaves were finally changing, which was beautiful, but you couldn’t really appreciate their beauty when the wind and rain whipped them off their branches.

It was a little like college; no matter how pretty or vibrant you were, the whirlwind of work and studying always threw you around enough to knock you off that pedestal. Until you were bare and ready for summer to come again so you could recharge.

The cycle was a bitch.

Jisung sighed with you, his eyes gazing out at the pretty leaves as well. Gradually he adjusted you enough so he was able to slip his arm from your waist and then sliding it over your shoulders. The extra padding if his sweater was nice against your cheek, bringing just a little bit of warmth.

He peaked at you in the corner of his eye, looking forward again to avoid being caught in the action.

“Do you want to take the bus? It’ll take a little longer, but at least we won’t blow away.” He suggested with a small snicker as his bangs whipped around his eyes.

You considered it, hands finding warmth in the fabric of his grey pullover.

“Sure, but it’ll probably be packed since everyone is getting out of class.”

He looked to be weighing the options in his head, but suddenly he was at a standstill, his once-limp arm going completely stiff around you.

“Ji?” A delicate voice rang, followed by a small laugh. “I called you twice, baby. Where were you?”

Ew, you frowned, what a movie moment.

Hyunae stopped in front of you, her tawny locks swinging in a pretty braid at her ribs and her thick sweatshirt hanging loosely down around her thighs. You knew it was Jisung’s—you had seen him wearing it before. Hell, you’d seen Minho wearing it.

She wasn’t in anything extravagant or flashy, but with her honest eyes and round cheeks, she didn’t have to be to stand out from everyone else in the world.

The moment her eyes made a sweep of Jisung’s frozen position, they flickered to you, her face slowly settling into something akin to a frown. It was a look that could make anyone feel sad, her face looked unnatural when sullen.

With a nudge from you, Jisung jumped to his girlfriend’s side, leaving you exposed to the chilling wind.

Boys were stupid, weren’t they?

“Sorry, angel—”

Oh, gag.

“—Y/n stuffed herself in the library. Someone had to pull her out for some air.”

He smiled down at her, unconsciously maneuvering his body in the way of the violent wind, shielding her small frame.

She nodded slowly, again looking over towards you.

“Okay. But Ji,” she paused, grabbing his hand to gain his attention. “You know how I feel about you being affectionate towards other people, right…?”

Jealous, insecure, though not completely irrational—

Jisung bent closer to her, lips curled apologetically. “I know, baby. I’m sorry, but it’s like second nature with Y/n! She’s like a baby sister, you know that.”

Hyunae sighed. She was ready to spout out more choice words, but with a small smile, Jisung began to pepper her face with quick kisses, bringing a melodic giggle to her lips.

They seriously couldn’t have forgotten about you. You were standing three feet away from them.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, finding the flying leaves much more interesting than the display in front of you. The giggling stopped and things suddenly felt much more uncomfortable.

“I’m going to head over to Haven, okay?” You asked, ready to speed-walk as far away from their little reunion as you possibly could.

Hyunae places a chaste kiss to Jisung’s mouth before grabbing his hand and hooking it around her waist. She patted his stomach, fluttering her long lashes up at him, “I could go for something to eat. Can I tag along?”

Your nose scrunched up in distaste.

She had to be laying it on thick on purpose. You had seen the two of them together before and sure, they were a lovey-dovey couple, but did she have to look up at Jisung like he had hung the stars in the sky?

Jisung wasn’t any better, his cheeks a nice rosy color, and his hands touching all the little curves of her waist.

Every moment you were within range of Hyunae, you were ignored. She wasn’t outwardly an attention seeker, but just her being there called everyone’s eyes. Not that you wanted to be the center of attention necessarily, it only bothered you when you spoke out and were completely brushed off. Your words going in one ear and out the other with both Hyunae and Jisung, it was frustrating.

They were always in their own little world, and you couldn’t have been the only one who didn’t want to be there to witness it.

“Yeah,” Jisung nodded obediently. “Of course you can, sunshine.”

Well, if you hadn’t been hungry before, you definitely weren’t now.

You deadpanned, spinning on your heel, “Great. I’ll be on the bus then.”

“We’re definitely going on the bus though. Your pants look too thin to be walking around in this weather.”

Hyunae giggled at her boyfriend’s words.

Maybe you could lose them and take the next bus back to your dorm.

You weren’t being petty—no one liked being ignored. That was a fact. Stepping up to the campus bus stop, the last of the crowd was piling into the bright blue vehicle, and you released a relieved sigh. The last thing you wanted to do was sit and wait for ten minutes while Jisung and Hyunae cooed and pinched each other’s cheeks.

Your relief proved to be in vain, however, as you slid into the last remaining seat, only to be followed by the couple. They stood directly in front of you, their shadow casting down and becoming the only thing you could see.

Never had you thought that you would be able to feel your stomach flipping upside-down inside of you as Hyunae pulled Jisung down into a kiss in front of everyone in the crowded bus. Would you really be committing a crime if you threw them out the window? Could it be considered a public service?

“Baby, stop! There are people here…”

Seriously, what kind of sadistic soap opera were you living in?

You had thrown yourself out of your seat the moment the bus crawled to a stop. It was a good thing the diner was the first stop or else you probably would’ve walked the rest of the way and risked being caught in the wind. Even then it would’ve been better than sitting and pretending not to see the cuddling happening a foot away.

You were going to order a cup of coffee and leave with a stomachache—that was your plan.

Maybe Minho would be home and you would be able to slide into his bed and beg for him to cuddle you. Not that there was a particular reason why you were suddenly feeling needy and void of attention, Minho was just kind of squishy and made a good pillow on occasions where you had to force yourself to sleep before you attempted to squeeze more studying in.

“It took you long enough to get here.” Felix called as you slid into the seat beside him, waving off the confused look he sent you. You simply motioned towards the smiling couple and watched as your best friend’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, yeah. Okay.”

You deadpanned, “Quick, kill me before they get here. We can both get out of this.”

“No way, you get the easy way out. I’m here stuck with murder.”

You patted his shoulder sympathetically, the sides of your mouth finally twitching at the corners.

“Trust me, jail for life is better than five minutes around these two.”

“You’re being dramatic. Let the young couple be gross.” Felix said as he nudged at your arm.

“Screw you and your dumb romantic heart. To normal people this is bordering on public indecency.”

Felix’s lip curled at the side as the two sat down on the other side of the table, Hyunae grabbed one menu for the both of them and opened it to discuss amongst themselves and they had to be covering every single disgusting couple trope out there. No matter how many times you witnessed it, it would always surprise you as to just how much you wanted to throw up.

But it was when Felix mouthed the word “jealous” did you determine that your day was just going to be shitty and you couldn’t do anything about it anymore.

“Did you order yet, Lix?” Jisung chimed, his voice almost sounding brighter than it had before. Did Hyunae really affect him that much?

“No. I was waiting for Y/n to get here.” He shrugged, holding up his own menu.

Hyunae looked up, her eyes shining with worry.

Gross.

“I hope we didn’t intrude or anything.”

Who even said “intrude” anymore?

Felix shook his head. “You’re fine. Y/n is usually a bummer to eat with anyway.”

Hyunae glanced your way before chuckling, shaking her head as she refocused back on Jisung who was desperately trying to show her something on the laminated sheet in front of them. He was actually a child.

Who got excited about menus? He ordered the same thing every time he ate at Haven, what was there to be excited about?

“What can I get you guys?”

Jeongin’s smile just barely lifted your mood, and you were grateful.

Felix set his menu down, “I’ll just have a Coke, and I wanted to know if I could order off the dinner list?”

And with that question, your mood was immediately diminished. You frowned, sending Felix a look similar to disgust.

What kind of day were you having?

“Can even be considered dinner? It’s four o’clock, who eats dinner at four in the afternoon?”

“It’s called the early bird special, you disrespectful baby. Old people do this shit all the time.” Felix pointed, sliding his menu across the table to Jeongin.

“Sorry that I don’t know the routine of old people, Felix.”

Jisung frowned, his eyes trying to catch yours to assess what was wrong, but you were too busy ripping up what was left of Felix’s napkin. Though, Hyunae noticed where Jisung’s gaze was lingering, and slid her fingers through his.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” Hyunae asked, voice lit with the intention of lightening the mood. “You seem a little grumpy today.”

But you saw nothing humorous in her comment. You bit your tongue, hard enough to taste the faintest of copper.

“A coffee.”

“Just—?”

“Just a coffee, Jeongin.”

The table went tense at the way your voice rose, Jeongin moving quickly to jot down your simple request, no longer looking up from his notepad. You would’ve felt bad had you not been so frustrated with the turn out of the day.

Hyunae then cleared her throat, her brows raised in the smallest action of judgement. It was similar to the many looks she had shot at Hyunjin during one of their many heated arguments, and that was what you hated about Hyunae. Not only did she get on every one of your nerves by being the world’s best girlfriend, but she had the incredible ability to make you feel like you had done so much wrong just within the few seconds of her flashing that look.

“Okay, then. Me and Jisung will have—”

And her “Me and Jisung,” that was what made your stomach churn the most.

“Sorry, Jeongin.” You said, startling everyone, including the boy you addressed as you stood from the booth. “I’m not feeling very well. I have to go.”

“O-Okay. Feel better, Y/n.” Jeongin said, moving out of your way.

“Woah woah woah,” suddenly, Jisung was standing too, grabbing your arm before you could rush out the door. “Where are you going? You need to eat.”

For whatever reason, his words only infuriated you more, feeling your ears heat and muscles tense under his grip. Was that what it took to get his attention? You had to throw a fit before he gave you the time of day?

You ripped your arm from his hold, not even giving the table a second glance before spinning on your heel.

“Fuck off, Jisung.”

As you stormed off, throwing open the door and leaving with a huff, Jisung watched your retreating form with wide eyes. It was as if you had slapped him, mouth gaping and brows furrowed in confusion.

Felix sighed, suddenly feeling bad for pushing your buttons in that ordeal. “She’s tired.” He concluded, slouching in his seat.

“I’ll say…” Hyunae quipped.

And for whatever reason that was, Jisung really wanted to snap at her, to defend you and tell her to quit being a bitch. But his voice was lost as he looked down at her, only able to muster up a silent scoff as he sat back down. He didn’t even push away her hand when it reached for his.

What perfect timing to realize that he was afraid of his own girlfriend.

He was such an asshole.

Both your and Jisung’s thoughts were very similar at that moment.

And how you could go from leaning your head against Jisung’s warm shoulder to wanting to rip his head off was unbeknownst to you.

You had to leave in that moment, if you hadn’t you didn’t know what you would’ve said… or screamed. You were just so frustrated and so tired, convincing yourself that no, you did not want to cry in front of everyone who was enjoying their early bird special.

There was school, all your homework creating a permanent dent in your life filled with papers and essays and tests, and there was Minho there to nag at you and chase away any boy that gave you the time of day. They had always been in your life. But now there was Jisung and Chan, new emotions and problems to throw into the mix. With everything going on, it was difficult to keep up, and you actually missed the moments when it was just Minho there to tuck you under his arm and lecture you about boys.

In your thoughts, you never even noticed how you completely walked past the bus stop and had come up to a quiet playground on the edge of campus. How you had managed to walk that far, you didn’t know. Perhaps it was all the pent up stress that just had you zoning out and walking, or your body was subconsciously trying to get you kidnapped so you didn’t have to deal with your problems anymore.

You were feeling a bit better, so either way, it worked.

Finally, you found your legs carrying you to one of the swings, the black seat reminiscent of your childhood where you would always burn the backs of your legs in your hurry to get there before everyone else. That black rubber always got so damn hot.

With a small smile, you sat down, almost disappointed to feel the coolness against your jeans.

Your legs of course bent awkwardly under you, you weren’t a kid anymore unfortunately, and it was pretty strange to push off on something that you had forgotten entirely about but had thought so highly of before. Despite it being strange, it felt nice, and you were thankful that the wind was dying down as it was getting later in the day, the sun making its way towards the ground in front of you.

Rocking yourself in the swing you reached back for your phone. You wanted to apologize to Felix for storming off and probably worrying him, he was sort of your mother in that way. But you weren’t really ready to squeeze back into reality like that, so you called someone else.

“Y/n? What’s up?”

You felt your lips quirk up.

“Nothing much. What about you?”

The man on the other line hummed, the faint sound of typing just barely made out. “This song isn’t fitting together and I kind of want to scream, so I’m doing pretty good.”

“I think I’m doing pretty good then too.”

You rested your head against the chain of the swing.

“Did something happen?”

You made a sound that could be read similarly to “yes, but I think I’ll sound stupid if I tell you”, but it successfully pulled a laugh from him, so it was worth it.

“I don’t think you want to listen to my woes.”

“I always want to listen to your woes.”

His tone was joking, but his words were genuine, you could tell.

And finally, you were smiling, as difficult as it had been all day, you were able to while talking to him. There was no Jisung, no Hyunae, no judgment. You could talk to him without worrying, and you knew that for sure.

“And I want to throw up because of how cheesy that was.” You retorted, using the same joking tone he had spoken in.

There was the sound of shifting, and ruffles of fabric—as if he had just stood from his desk and fell back onto his bed.

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m already feeling bad about my song. Now tell me about your day so I can feel better about mine.”

You snorted, pushing yourself off on the swing once more.

“Okay, Chan. Whatever you say.”

#stray kids #skz #inkidz #jisung #han jisung #bang chan #han jisung x reader #han jisung x reader smut #bang chan x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids blurbs #stray kids requests #han jisung imagines #han jisung scenarios #stray kids fanfic #jisung/reader #series #fic; man up

[path-of-my-childhood]

The Story Behind Every Song on folklore - According to Aaron Dessner

By: Brady Gerber for Vulture Date: July 27th 2020

The National multi-instrumentalist spoke to Vulture over the phone from upstate New York a few hours after the surprise release of Swift’s eighth studio album. (“A pretty wild ride,” he admits, sounding tired yet happy.) He was clear that he can’t speak on behalf of Swift’s lyrics, much like he can’t for The National frontman Matt Berninger’s either, or the thinking behind Jack Antonoff’s songs. (Here’s a cheat sheet: Jack’s songs soar, Aaron’s glide.) But Dessner was game to speak to his specific contributions, influences, and own interpretations of each song on folklore, a record you can sum up by two words that came up often during our conversation: nostalgic and wry.

“the 1″

“the 1” and “hoax,” the first song and the last song, were the last songs we did. The album was sort of finished before that. We thought it was complete, but Taylor then went back into the folder of ideas that I had shared. I think in a way, she didn’t realize she was writing for this album or a future something. She wrote “the 1,” and then she wrote “hoax” a couple of hours later and sent them in the middle of the night. When I woke up in the morning, I wrote her before she woke up in LA and said, “These have to be on the record.” She woke up and said, “I agree” [laughs] These are the bookends, you know?

It’s clear that “the 1” is not written from her perspective. It’s written from another friend’s perspective. There’s an emotional wryness and rawness, while also to this kind of wink in her eyes. There’s a little bit of her sense of humor in there, in addition to this kind of sadness that exists both underneath and on the surface. I enjoy that about her writing.

The song began from the voice memo she sent me, and then I worked on the music some and we tracked her vocals, and then my brother added orchestration. There are a few other little bits, but basically that was one of the very last things we did.

“cardigan“

That’s the first song we wrote [in early May]. After Taylor asked if I would be interested in writing with her remotely and working on songs, I said, “Are you interested in a certain kind of sound?” She said, “I’m just interested in what you do and what you’re up to. Just send anything, literally anything, it could be the weirdest thing you’ve ever done,” so I sent a folder of stuff I had done that I was really excited about recently. “cardigan” was one of those sketches; it was originally called “Maple.” It was basically exactly what it is on the record, except we added orchestration later that my brother wrote.

I sent [the file] at 9 p.m., and around 2 a.m. or something, there was “cardigan,” fully written. That’s when I realized something crazy was happening. She just dialed directly into the heart of the music and wrote an incredible song and fully conceived of it and then kept going. It harkens back to lessons learned, or experiences in your youth, in a really beautiful way and this sense of longing and sadness, but ultimately, it’s cathartic. I thought it was a perfect match for the music, and how her voice feels. It was kind of a guide. It had these lower register parts, and I think we both realized that this was a bit of a lightning rod for a lot of the rest of the record.

The National’s Influence On Swift

She said that she’s a fan of the emotion that’s conveyed in our music. She doesn’t often get to work with music that is so raw and emotional, or melodic and emotional, at the same time. When I sent her the folder, that was one of the main feelings. She said, “What the fuck? How do you just have that?” [laughs] I was humbled and honored because she just said, “It’s a gift, and I want to write to all of this.” She didn’t write to all of it, but a lot of it, and relatively quickly.

She is a fan of the band, and she’s a fan of Big Red Machine. She’s well aware of the sentiment of it and what I do, but she didn’t ask for a certain kind of thing. I know that the film [I Am Easy To Find] has really affected her, and she’s very much in love with that film and the record. Maybe it’s subconsciously been an influence.

“the last great american dynasty”

I wrote that after we’d been working for a while. It was an attempt to write something attractive, more uptempo and kind of pushing. I also was interested in this almost In Rainbows-style latticework of electric guitars. They come in and sort of pull you along, kind of reminiscent of Big Red Machine. It was very much in this sound world that I’ve been playing around with, and she immediately clicked with that. Initially I was imagining these dreamlike distant electric guitars and electronics but with an element of folk. There’s a lot going on in that sense. I sent it before I went on a run, and when I got back from the run, that song was there [laughs].

She told me the story behind it, which sort of recounts the narrative of Rebekah Harkness, whom people actually called Betty. She was married to the heir of Standard Oil fortune, married into the Harkness family, and they bought this house in Rhode Island up on a cliff. It’s kind of the story of this woman and the outrageous parties she threw. She was infamous for not fitting in, entirely, in society; that story, at the end, becomes personal. Eventually, Taylor bought that house. I think that is symptomatic of folklore, this type of narrative song. We didn’t do very much to that either.

“exile” (ft. Bon Iver)

Taylor and William Bowery, the singer-songwriter, wrote that song initially together and sent it to me as a sort of a rough demo where Taylor was singing both the male and female parts. It’s supposed to be a dialogue between two lovers. I interpreted that and built the song, played the piano, and built around that template. We recorded Taylor’s vocals with her singing her parts but also the male parts.

We talked a lot about who she thought would be perfect to sing, and we kept coming back to Justin [Vernon]. Obviously, he’s a dear friend of mine and collaborator. I said, “Well, if he’s inspired by the song, he’ll do it, and if not, he won’t.” I sent it to him and said, “No pressure at all, literally no pressure, but how do you feel about this?” He said, “Wow.” He wrote some parts into it also, and we went back and forth a little bit, but it felt like an incredibly natural and safe collaboration between friends. It didn’t feel like getting a guest star or whatever. It was just like, well, we’re working on something, and obviously he’s crazy talented, but it just felt right. I think they both put so much raw emotion into it. It’s like a surface bubbling. It’s believable, you know? You believe that they’re having this intense dialogue.

With other people I had to be secretive, but with Justin, because he was going to sing, I actually did send him a version of the song with her vocals and told him what I was up to. He was like, “Whoa! Awesome!” But he’s been involved in so many big collaborative things that he wasn’t interested in it from that point of view. It’s more because he loved the song and he thought he could do something with it that would add something.

“my tears ricochet”

This is one of my absolute favorite songs on the record. I think it’s a brilliant composition, and Taylor’s words, the way her voice sounds and how this song feels, are, to me, one of the critical pieces. It’s lodged in my brain. That’s also very important to Taylor and Jack. It’s like a beacon for this record.

“mirrorball”

“mirrorball” is, to me, a hazy sort of beautiful. It almost reminds me of ‘90s-era Cardigans, or something like Mazzy Star. It has this kind of glow and haze. It feels really good before “seven,” which becomes very wistful and nostalgic. There are just such iconic images in the lyrics [“Spinning in my highest heels”], which aren’t coming to me at the moment because my brain is not working [laughs].

How Jack Antonoff’s Folklore Songs Differ From Dessner’s

I think we have different styles, and we weren’t making them together or in the same room. We both could probably come closer together in a sense that weirdly works. It’s like an archipelago, and each song is an island, but it’s all related. Taylor obviously binds it all together. And I think Jack, if he was working with orchestrations, there’s an emotional quality to his songs that’s clearly in the same world as mine.

We actually didn’t have a moodboard for the album at all. I don’t think that way. I don’t really know if she does either. I don’t think Jack... well, Jack might, but when I say the Cardigans or Mazzy Star, those aren’t Jack’s words about “mirrorball,” it’s just what calls to mind for me. Mainly she talked about emotion and to lean into it, the nostalgia and wistfulness, and the kind of raw, meditative emotion that I often kind of inhabit that I think felt very much where her heart was. We didn’t shy away from that.

“seven”

This is the second song we wrote. It’s kind of looking back at childhood and those childhood feelings, recounting memories and memorializing them. It’s this beautiful folk song. It has one of the most important lines on the record: “And just like a folk song, our love will be passed on.” That’s what this album is doing. It’s passing down. It’s memorializing love, childhood, and memories. It’s a folkloric way of processing.

“august”

This is maybe the closest thing to a pop song. It gets loud. It has this shimmering summer haze to it. It’s kind of like coming out of “seven” where you have this image of her in the swing and she’s seven years old, and then in “august” I think it feels like fast-forwarding to now. That’s an interesting contrast. I think it’s just a breezy, sort of intoxicating feeling.

“this is me trying”

“this is me trying,” to me, relates to the entire album. Maybe I’m reading into it too much from my own perspective, but [I think of] the whole album as an exercise and working through these stories, whether personal or old through someone else’s perspective. It’s connecting a lot of things. But I love the feeling in it and the production that Jack did. It has this lazy swagger.

“illicit affairs”

This feels like one of the real folk songs on the record, a sharp-witted narrative folk song. It just shows her versatility and her power as a songwriter, the sharpness of her writing. It’s a great song.

“invisible string”

That was another one where it was music that I’d been playing for a couple of months and sort of humming along to her. It felt like one of the songs that pulls you along. Just playing it on one guitar, it has this emotional locomotion in it, a meditative finger-picking pattern that I really gravitate to. It’s played on this rubber bridge that my friend put on [the guitar] and it deadens the strings so that it sounds old. The core of it sounds like a folk song.

It’s also kind of a sneaky pop song, because of the beat that comes in. She knew that there was something coming because she said, “You know, I love this and I’m hearing something already.” And then she said, “This will change the story,” this beautiful and direct kind of recounting of a relationship in its origin.

“mad woman”

That might be the most scathing song on folklore. It has a darkness that I think is cathartic, sort of witch-hunting and gaslighting and maybe bullying. Sometimes you become the person people try to pin you into a corner to be, which is not really fair. But again, don’t quote me on that [laughs], I just have my own interpretation. It’s one of the biggest releases on the album to me. It has this very sharp tone to it, but sort of in gothic folklore. It’s this record’s goth song.

“epiphany”

For “epiphany,” she did have this idea of a beautiful drone, or a very cinematic sort of widescreen song, where it’s not a lot of accents but more like a sea to bathe in. A stillness, in a sense. I first made this crazy drone which starts the song, and it’s there the whole time. It’s lots of different instruments played and then slowed down and reversed. It created this giant stack of harmony, which is so giant that it was kind of hard to manage, sonically, but it was very beautiful to get lost in. And then I played the piano to it, and it almost felt classical or something, those suspended chords.

I think she just heard it, and instantly, this song came to her, which is really an important one. It’s partially the story of her grandfather, who was a soldier, and partially then a story about a nurse in modern times. I don’t know if this is how she did it, but to me, it’s like a nurse, doctor, or medical professional, where med school doesn’t fully prepare you for seeing someone pass away or just the difficult emotional things that you’ll encounter in your job. In the past, heroes were just soldiers. Now they’re also medical professionals. To me, that’s the underlying mission of the song. There are some things that you see that are hard to talk about. You can’t talk about it. You just bear witness to them. But there’s something else incredibly soothing and comforting about this song. To me, it’s this Icelandic kind of feel, almost classical. My brother did really beautiful orchestration of it.

“betty”

This one Taylor and William wrote, and then both Jack and I worked on it. We all kind of passed it around. This is the one where Taylor wanted a reference. She wanted it to have an early Bob Dylan, sort of a Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan feel. We pushed it a little more towards John Wesley Harding, since it has some drums. It’s this epic narrative folk song where it tells us a long story and connects back to “cardigan.” It starts to connect dots and I think it’s a beautifully written folk song.

Is ‘betty” queer canon? I can’t speak to what it’s about. I have my own ideas. I also know where Taylor’s heart is, and I think that’s great anytime a song takes on greater meaning for anyone.

Is William Bowery secretly Joe Alwyn? I don’t know. We’re close, but she won’t tell me that. I think it’s actually someone else, but it’s good to have some mysteries.

“peace”

I wrote this, and Justin provided the pulse. We trade ideas all the time and he made a folder, and there was a pulse in there that I wrote these basslines to. In the other parts of the composition, I did it to Justin’s pulse. Taylor heard this sketch and she wrote the song. It reminds me of Joni Mitchell, in a way - there’s this really powerful and emotional love song, even the impressionistic, almost jazz-like bridge, and she weaves it perfectly together. This is one of my favorites, for sure. But the truth is that the music, that way of playing with harmonized basslines, is something that probably comes a little bit from me being inspired by how Justin does that sometimes. There’s probably a connection there. We didn’t talk too much about it [laughs].

“hoax”

This is a big departure. I think she said to me, “Don’t try to give it any other space other than what feels natural to you.” If you leave me in a room with a piano, I might play something like this. I take a lot of comfort in this. I think I imagined her playing this and singing it. After writing all these songs, this one felt the most emotional and, in a way, the rawest. It is one of my favorites. There’s sadness, but it’s a kind of hopeful sadness. It’s a recognition that you take on the burden of your partners, your loved ones, and their ups and downs. That’s both “peace” and “hoax” to me. That’s part of how I feel about those songs because I think that’s life. There’s a reality, the gravity or an understanding of the human condition.

Does Taylor Explain Her Lyrics?

She would always talk about it. The narrative is essential, and kind of what it’s all about. We’d always talk about that upfront and saying that would guide me with the music. But again, she is operating at many levels where there are connections between all of these songs, or many of them are interrelated in the characters that reappear. There are threads. I think that sometimes she would point it out entirely, but I would start to see these patterns. It’s cool when you see someone’s mind working.

“the lakes”

That’s a Jack song. It’s a beautiful kind of garden, or like you’re lost in a beautiful garden. There’s a kind of Greek poetry to it. Tragic poetry, I guess.

The Meaning Of Folklore

We didn’t talk about it at first. It was only after writing six or seven songs, basically when I thought my writing was done, when we got on the phone and said, “OK, I think we’re making an album. I have these six other ideas that I love with Jack [Antonoff] that we’ve already done, and I think what we’ve done fits really well with them.” It’s sort of these narratives, these folkloric songs, with characters that interweave and are written from different perspectives. She had a vision, and it was connecting back in some way to the folk tradition, but obviously not entirely sonically. It’s more about the narrative aspect of it.

I think it’s this sort of nostalgia and wistfulness that is in a lot of the songs. A lot of them have this kind of longing for looking back on things that have happened in your life, in your friend’s life, or another loved one’s life, and the kind of storytelling around that. That was clear to her. But then we kept going, and more and more songs happened.

It was a very organic process where [meaning] wasn’t something that we really discussed. It just kind of would happen where she would dive back into the folder and find other things that were inspiring. Or she and William Bowery would write “exile,” and then that happened. There were different stages of the process.

Okay, but is it A24-core? [Laughs.] Good comparison. 

#Aaron Dessner #interview #vulture #about taylor #taylor swift #folklore album #folklore era #songwriting #producer #the national #bon iver

[uswnt-keeper]

Whats Christmas Without Burnt Cookies?

Prompt by @estellalovespip: I think a lil alex fic where she burns the Christmas cookies would be cute.

A/N: Heads up! I suck at writing all of a sudden so sorry if this is terrible. I’m trying to keep it as Christmas themed as possible! This is so bad so I’m sorry, and sorry it’s so late, I have AP work over holiday break which sucks. Enjoy (if you can).

“Well that’s not good,” I said from the couch as Alex was doing the dishes in the kitchen.

“What’s that?” She asked, coming out the kitchen, wiping her wet hands on a kitchen towel.

“We’re on lockdown,” I said, looking up at her and her hands stopped moving.

“Well what about our plans? We’re we gonna go away for your birthday this summer,” she pouted.

“Don’t worry baby,” I smiled, standing from the couch to give her a hug, “I doubt it’ll last that long.”

December 24th 2020 (Alex’s POV)

“Remember when you said you didn’t think it’d would last through the summer?” I asked Y/N and she rolled her eyes at me as I giggled, kissing her cheek as I pulled out the sprinkles and cookie decorations from the cabinet.

“Hey,” she said, back still turned away as she rolled out the dough on the counter, her muscles contorting and contracting with every push, “I don’t see how this is bad, I get my wife all to myself this Christmas.”

“If that’s how you want to interpret it,” I smiled, sorting the colors.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” She finally turned to me and I just giggled, holding her waist as she folded her arms and I kissed her nose, which she couldn’t help but smile at.

“It means,” I said, putting my hands behind her neck and closing the gap between our bodies, noses touching, “I’m not sure your ready for all this Morgan.”

There was a pause before she burst into laughter.

“Okay Al, that might be the most cringe thing you’ve ever said,” she laughed, cupping my face, “And don’t try acting like a top because we always know how that ends.”

I sighed, at least I tried, and of course it never worked, but I tried. We went back to the cookies, Y/N cutting out the shapes as I watched, content to just watch her do whatever she wanted, honestly anything she did was cute.

“Baby?” She asked. I snapped out of my thoughts, putting my chin on her shoulder.

“Hmmm?” I hummed.

“Do you wanna cut some? I don’t wanna do it all if you wanna try,” she said with a warm smile.

“Have I ever told you you’re the most adorable person I’ve ever met.”

She pouted like a petulant child, but it just proved my point more and she spun around, crossing her arms too.

“Stop babe, you’re just proving my point,” I whined with a laugh, kissing her cheek and cutting a shape out before backing away, “There, I did one, now it’s all you.”

“If you say so,” she shrugged going back to work.

In the meantime, I threw in some Christmas music, I know Mariah Carey did the original ‘All I Want For Christmas’ but I personally think Michael Buble’s is better.

“Honey!” Y/N called form the kitchen after about 10 minutes of cutting, re-rolling dough, and cutting again.

“What’s up?” I popped my head in the kitchen. I wasn’t into the whole process of baking, I just liked the decorations part, which is why I often left this job to Y/N.

“Did you pick up marzipan from the store when you went shopping or no? Didn't you want to make decorations with it?”

I froze, realizing my massive mistake. Of course I forgot the key ingredient to my decorations and it was in that moment I remembered I forgot something else, “Oh my god I forgot the gold food coloring too!” I exclaimed, a little panicked as Y/N slipped on an oven mit, popping the layers of cookies in the oven.

“Don’t worry babe,” she smiled, washing her hands and grabbing her mask from the dining table. She slipped it on her face, handed me her apron, and grabbed her wallet and keys, “I’ll go grab them now, you just watch the cookies okay?”

“You sure?”

“Someone has to watch the cookies and you need to be able to decorate,” she chuckled, “I’ll be like half an hour, but they’ll only take 10 minutes.”

“Okay,” I said as she slipped out the door, “be safe!”

I sighed as the door shut, how could I have forgotten?! It’s like the key ingredient to cookie decoration! Anyway, at this point I only had one job, and it was to make sure the cookies didn’t burn. I mean that was easy enough right?

Wrong. I mean in theory it wasn’t hard, but admits my foolery, I ended up sitting in the couch as turning on a Christmas movie ready for when Y/N got back... and I fell asleep. I fell actually into a deep sleep until...

“ALEX! WHY IS THE KITCHEN SMOKING?!”

That made me shoot awake, jolting up to see Y/N had dropped the groceries on the table, stepping into the kitchen which had black smoke emitting from it. The smoke detector went off and I begrudgingly whacked it, making the batteries fall out.

“Babe?! You okay?” I called, waking up a little better now.

“Fine!” She called, coming out the kitchen with a kitchen towel over her mouth, “I opened the kitchen window, but we might have soot on the ceiling.”

She waited with me outside the kitchen until the smoke dissipated, by which time we’d rushed into the kitchen to see if anything was damaged, which luckily nothing was, and Y/N opened the oven.

“Well?” I asked in anticipation.

“I mean if you like your cookies that crispy I think you might have a problem,” she laughed, pulling out the tray of black and decrepit looking cookies.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep!” I said angrily crossing my arms.

“I had a feeling you’d do that,” she laughed and I looked at her puzzled as she kissed my cheek, placing the burnt tray on the side and opening the fridge to reveal more cookies, unbaked and already in perfect balls on the tray ready to go.

“Oh thank god,” I put a hand over my heart.

“So you still get to decorate,” she laughed, popping that in the oven and setting a timer on her phone before coming to me, “And maybe next time k should make you go out.”

“Maybe,” I laughed.

We spent the rest of the night making sure the cookies didn’t burn, which was mostly Y/N’s doing, decorating, and then eating them all in less that 30 minutes while watching the grinch. Of course, the smell of smoke still in the house wasn’t ideal, but whats Christmas without some burnt cookies?

#alex morgan #uswnt x reader #uswntxreader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines

[ultimatetornshipper]

Daminette December Day 3

@daminette-december2019-2020

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 3 – Legend

Previous

Next

Marinette closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The breeze softly danced through her hair as she sat in the windowsill of her room. She opened her eyes and stared at the parchment resting on a book on her lap, her little bottle of ink sat next to her on the ledge. She fidgeted with the quill in her hand, frustrated.

She was trying to write a letter to Luka to let him know that they'd arrived safely. He was her right hand man and their friends were most likely bugging him on whether he'd heard from her or not. She needed to give them an estimate on how well the whole thing was going but she barely had a feel for these people. She was pretty certain they wanted this alliance just as much as the Order did, but she didn’t yet have any idea what exactly they’d ask for.

She sighed and dipped her quill in her ink, maybe if she started the words would come.

Dear Luka

I hope you are well. How is everyone doing? How’s Alya and the baby? How’s Nino dealing with her pregnancy hormones? How’s she dealing with his overprotectiveness? Has Chloe returned from her mission? How did it go?

I miss you all, I hope everything is alright back home.

We arrived safely at the Gotham Royal family's Summer home. They have treated me with kindness and respect.

She took a breath. Should she tell him about Prince Damian? He would in all likelihood be the next Black Cat. He was her match. She didn’t know him, but the Destruction radiating off of him was on par with the Creation that followed her. As much as she didn’t want to replace- She shook her head, moving on was inevitable, she needed someone to rule by her side. She needed to tell her court the truth.

I met him. It all feels too soon after everything that happened last year. The Destruction coming from him was incredible. Plagg would kill me if I didn’t introduce them. Please have Pegasus deliver the ring when you receive my letter. He can deliver it to my exact location, I’ll explain things to any witnesses. I’ll disclose more information on who he is if he accepts my offer of the ring.

Yours sincerely,

Marinette

She tapped her chin with the end of her quill as she reread her letter.

A soft mew made her look up, sitting next to her little ink bottle was a beautiful calico, staring at her curiously.

“Hey girl,” she replied softly, holding out her hand, the cat sniffed it then pressed her cheek against Marinette’s hand. She scratched the cat's head softly, smiling.

“Her name is Legend,” a voice said from her doorway. She looked up and recognized Lady Stephanie standing in her doorway. She was about to greet her when the girl kept talking.

“Oh sorry, your door was open, I didn’t think it'd be a problem, we’re just pretty casual around here and it slipped my mind, Your Majesty,” she said, quickly, her hands gesturing as she spoke.

Marinette smiled at her, standing and placing her letter, book and quill on a nearby table, “It’s quite alright, Lady Stephanie. My court and I are quite similar to you that way, and please do call me Marinette,”

“Only if you’ll call me Steph,” she replied, shifting from foot to foot in the doorway.

Marinette saw the movement and invited her in. They sat at the table she’d put her letter on and she folded it as they made small talk.

She melted some wax onto her envelope and pressed it with the Miraculous Court's seal as she listened to Steph detail a story about the time she and Jason had snuck into the kitchen to steal some of the pastries before a big event when she’d first arrived at the castle back in Gotham.

“It seems you are all quite close,” Marinette commented after Stephanie wrapped up her tale.

“Yeah, we’re family, you know?” she replied. Stephanie wrung her hands together before meeting her gaze, “Can I ask you something?”

Marinette could feel the girl’s unease, so she tried to appear reassuring, “Yes,”

“Yesterday,” she started hesitantly, “In the throne room, the older man who came with you did most of the talking. I don’t know much about the Order of the Miraculous, but I was pretty certain you’re their leader but you didn’t really talk so...” she left the rest of the question unsaid, clearly hoping Marinette would understand hat she was trying to say.

She could tell the girl didn’t mean any disrespect, she was simply curious and she couldn’t blame her. So she gave her a smile, “Master Fu is my teacher, I’m still learning to lead and he’s helping me through everything, until my training is complete he makes the important introductions and still does a lot of the talking. I will be voicing my thoughts a lot more during negotiations though,”

Stephanie nodded slowly, “That makes a lot of sense actually,”

They spent the afternoon together and had tea in the garden.

Marinette was listening to Stephanie ‘s retelling of how she and Tim first met when she recognized Prince Jason heading towards them.

Stephanie spotted him too so she paused when he got close. Marinette nodded her head at him, “Your Highness,”

He nodded back, “Your Majesty,”

He sat down on the open chair at their table and Stephanie quickly continued her story.

She listened politely, but she was aware of the Prince who had joined them studying her discreetly, if she hadn’t been trained to notice, she would’ve missed it.

He noticed her noticing him and she was impressed by his ability to read body language. He, if her training was correct, was growing more and more curious about her by the second.

Somehow managing to miss the tension Stephanie kept telling her story.

“We were both so incredibly oblivious to the other’s feelings and denying our own. Months of pinning and so many misunderstandings. Apparently it was an incredibly frustrating debacle to watch,” she said laughingly, giving Prince Jason a pointed look.

He groaned, playing along and ignoring their silent sort-of conversation that had transpired earlier, “Don’t remind me, it was torture,”

They all laughed, and a comfortable silence followed.

Well that was until Tikki appeared and the other two almost fell of their chairs. She turned to her kwami and decided to explain later.

“Guardian, Queen Bee is attempting to contact you,” she quickly supplied, ignoring the two royal siblings who were staring in shock.

“Put her on, these two can be trusted,” she replied, sipping her tea.

Tikki put down a device on the table and the familiar image of Queen Bee appeared shining in the air in front of her, it was nothing new to Marinette but the other two stared in shock at the moving image of a blonde girl in armor unlike any they’ve ever seen.

“Bee, this better be important, you know how much it takes out of the kwami to do calls (a/n I’m not gonna figure out a new name for it, calls make sense sorry not sorry °3°),” Marinette said sternly.

Chloe looked grim but stood up straight, confident in her choice, “I’m afraid it’s rather urgent Guardian,”

Marinette felt chills, Chloe rarely looked that grim, it was even rarer for her to address her by her title, “Queen Bee, what is it?”

Chloe grimaced. She gave her a meaningful look softly replied, “It may bring back a few unpleasant memories, Mari,”

Oh

It felt as though the wind had momentarily been knocked out of her.

The familiar green eyes that haunted her at night flashed through her mind. Immediately followed by a darker, newer pair. She pushed both images away, she’d deal with that later, now Chloe needed her to be the Guardian.

Marinette took a deep breath and tightened her grip on her cup, “I can take it,”

“It’s Gabriel, he has the butterfly, he wants -,” Chloe swallowed, looking at Mari with pity, she lowered her voice, “He wants to bring him back, Mari,”

Her grip around her teacup was deadly, it was a shock it hadn’t broken yet. She was certain her knuckles and face were both as white as a cloud.

“I -,” her voice cracked and she took a deep breath, she was in the presence of strangers, she couldn’t break down, she pushed her emotions back and went into her Guardian mode, “Tikki add Carapace, Viperion, Tigress, Rena Rouge and Paon to the call. Now. I want it taken care of quickly,”

Chloe’s eyes widened, “Those are all our top warriors,”

“Like I said, I want this taken care of quickly,” Marinette replied briskly.

The others were quickly added and they all switched to the language of the Guardians. If the two royal siblings could speak French, her and Chloe’s previous conversation had already given enough away. Chloe explained the situation while Marinette quickly pulled herself together, she could fall apart later. Right now her Court needed her.

Carapace looked on edge and she knew why. Rena was on the call and she was pregnant, he was scared that she’d have to fight.

“Rena,” she said after Chloe finished explaining, all eyes turned to look at her, “You’re not fighting, but your strategizing capabilities are too valuable to have you sit out completely. You’re on the side-lines for this one,”

Carapace looked relieved and Rena nodded, understanding.

She looked at Viperion, while half her letter turned out to be written in vain, at least she could get this done quicker, “I need you to send Plagg and his ring with Pegasus as soon as you guys finish discussing details,"

She took a deep breath, "I found my match,”

(a/n did I totally just only put the prompt as part of a single paragraph? yeah i did. Do I have any idea where this is going? No i don't. Is the fact that I don’t listen to my outline and do whatever the hell I want gonna stop me? Nope, not at all)

(fr tho I’m just as surprised at this plot as yall are ngl, also, look at me doing a cliffhanger hehehe)

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb

#daminette #daminette december #i know it's taking long just gimme a chance fluff to come I promise there'll be some next chapter #damian x marinette #maribat #damian wayne #batfam #batman #jason todd #stephanie brown #I'm sorry i promise interaction I just need to set up some plot man #medieval au #a whelming chapter if I do say so myself #lol jk #hope everyone enjoyed and thanks for reading!! #utp writes

[cosmiclatte28]

Seeing Colors (Yuta x blind!reader)

a/n: hey, this oneshot is a little bit long and I actually started writing this last Summer 2020, but I didn’t finish it. Yesterday I got the motivation and the time to finish the ending part. Please let me know if there is anything missing in the scene (like if I suddenly jumped or you’re confused by the timeline... It’s a fic I left a while and came back to, and timeline sometimes suck.)

I want to tag my two fams who also love yuta fics... this was an attempt I made last year to write angst, but I need to practice more. This is more like a romance drama anyways @ailoveyuta and @yutahoes we are all suckers of yuta.

warning : longer than my other oneshots, buildup, you’re a blind character (do not read if you’re uncomfortable with this head to masterlist instead! thanks)

⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ 

You opened your eyes, or at least you thought you did. It was difficult to tell, given the total lack of light.

Your world has never been bright since the day of the car crash. You were only seventeen when the world took away your sight, and your best brother. Your parents survived the crash; they left the hospital walking on their own while helping you. Yes you, who need to learn using your other senses and walk in the dark for the rest of your life. There were no cornea donors up to this day, and you’ve changed from the bright, cheerful, pretty girl next door into a cold, secluded, ice queen. Without light, life was not easy. Friends pity you, but you’re fed up by their fake attitudes. Love? You have not much hope with it.

“That wasn’t my choice,” You haughtily remarked and straightened your back when the man beside you had finished reciting the news your parents gave to him.

“As much as you don’t like it, your parents were not wrong. You’re 26, graduated with a bachelor degree in music, and yet you’re still not thinking to you know date somebody.” The man older than you by 2 years sighed.

You shrugged your shoulder, “Listen Yuta, I never asked you or my parents if I wanted a boyfriend.”

Yuta quietly lets go off his breath he had been holding; here we go again, fighting over relationship necessity.

Nakamoto Yuta has been your personal guard and secretary ever since your older secretary, Kim Jongin, was retired and got married. Jongin was a nice and caring secretary, he was patient when you first trained to walk with cane, plus Jongin graduated as a guardian for the special needs . Jongin dealt with all of your frustration and anger, he was like a substitute of your brother you lost. Jongin dedicated 6 years of standing by your side, helping you walk, fighting bullies for you, and basically did all the things he could to help you live a happy life. You were thankful for Jongin, but as you started to develop feelings for him, he left you alone with a wedding invitation. You, who were slowly being kind, suddenly changed back to the cold version of you. Your parents tried their best to look for any helpers who were ready to deal with your tantrums. That was when you met Nakamoto Yuta, a graduate student from Osaka, who took specialist in helping the blind. Among the other applicants, Nakamoto Yuta caught your attention and now he’s by your side for 3 years.

“Tell mum I am not coming to whatever date she arranged.” You unfolded your walking stick, making Yuta rushed to stand by your right side. He placed his left guiding hand to his abdomen and you found your hand snaked into his and firmly gripped him to walk.

“Where are we headed?” Yuta questioned when you carefully took your steps down the stairs.

“Well, I want to see Mum.”

Yuta assisted you to your mother and then left. He waited on the door to let you have your private talk.

“(y/n), what brings you here?” Your mother asked you nicely.

You brought your eyes to look at her; you cleared your throat and finally spoke up, “I know you’ve tried so hard to find me a date… Thank you, but I am not ready yet. My last love still hurts and I don’t think boys would  want to date me when they find out I am blind.”

Your shoulder slumped and your tears fell, “I don’t know how I look right now? Am I still a beauty or am I a beast now? Will men like me if they know I’m blind? To be honest mom, I am afraid… I am afraid of their reactions.”

Your mother stood to hug you. She wiped your tear and whispered, “Look sweetheart, you’re beautiful inside out. You don’t have to worry about other people… Let me tell you… one day you will find a man… who will help you see colors again. When that man comes and when that day happens, you don’t have to thank me. That is fate. Believe and you will find your soul mate darling. Now, wipe those tears off and please try to attend the dinner I arranged this Friday.”

You sobbed, “What if I don’t like him?”

“Then you will not date him. Please, meet him for me…” She held your hand tightly and you can feel her sincere mother love tingled to your skin.

You stopped your tears and forced a smile, “Okay mother, I will try and open my heart.”

“Thank you sweetie, I knew I’ll never doubt in you.”

You exited the room after Yuta was called in.

“Please fetch me Vision, I want some fresh air.”

Vision is your service dog, he is a good boy who never fails to amaze you. Yuta grabbed the dog’s collar from the garage and while humming his favorite song, Yuta found the service dog wagging its tail when it saw the leash.

“You’re on duty today handsome,” Yuta clipped the leash to Vision’s collar and brought him to you.

You walked with Vision and Yuta to a near park just down the lane. There’s not many people and you like to avoid crowds. You don’t like being a distraction and being the talk of the park.

You spent your afternoon day dreaming under the big tree while thinking about your mother’s word. Funny how mother believes in soul mate things and what did she said? Someone will make you see colors again? Well you’ve started to forget what seeing things in colors looked like. A majority of your heart screamed that won’t happen, but a tiny part hopes you can see or at least find someone who can make you feel the colors again.

Yuta sat beside you; you shifted your head to look at him.

“Yuta… do you know what to do in a date? I’ve never been into one.” You deadpan stared into him and if you can see, you’ll definitely see a flustered Yuta. All this time he has been cool and reserved, strong and intelligent man, always ready to help you and he cracked jokes too.  You’ve never heard or asked him about his love life.

“Yuta?” you reached out your hand to him and he held them, you remained silent and suddenly broke the awkward silence, “You’re nervous, why?”

Yuta face palmed, how could he forgot your senses are sharp and a slight change in action will bring you curiosity. He calmed himself down  and pretended to not be flustered

“Well, I am the master of dating. Now, where should we start?” Yuta coughed and covered his flustered self. Damn he knew nothing too, but he can always look up Google for you right?

You fiddled with the hem of your dress, in two days you will have your first set up date or blind date: literary and metaphorically.

“Okay first thing first I will be there, so don’t worry too much.” Yuta chuckled nervously “You have to put the fear at home, be confidence, be you.”

“You know what, follow your heart. Now, we shall head home… I think it will rain.” Yuta stood up and helped you rise.

He thanked Heaven for sending a rain, but  You didn’t found his answers satisfying. You went home nevertheless, with a heavy heart.

Friday came.

The whole house has never been this enthusiast before. It was only a blind date, but they treated it as if it’s already my big day.

You let your mother chose your evening dress, and you can do some of your make up by yourself, unless the difficult part, your mother will help.

You’re pampered and dolled up nicely. The simple black dress loosely fit your petite body. You twirled once to feel the fabric and yourself. Though you don’t feel like going anywhere tonight, you will try your best.

You sprayed your favorite fragrance followed by standing up from your chair.

“Let’s go…” you used your stick to help you stand up, and Yuta does his job. Your hand brushed the fabric he wore, “You’re wearing a suit?”

There was a pause from you and him

Yuta cleared his throat, “I should look decent right? Now, we need to hurry up or we will be late. You sure wouldn’t want to make your date wait right?”

You nodded your head and followed his guidance to the car. He ensured you fastened your seat belt in the passenger seat behind, and then moved to sit behind the wheels. He typed in tonight’s destination and departed.

The two of you arrived at a fancy rooftop dinner place. You stood beside Yuta nervously, your small hand kludged into his strong arms. In the small elevator rising to floor 12, you let go a long breath.

Yuta turned his head to you, “Nervous?”

You nodded your head, “It’s my first time… Of course I am nervous. Yuta what’s his name again?”

Your mind must be fuzzy for you kept on forgetting tonight’s date information.

“He’s from Canada-“ Yuta’s words were cut off as the elevator ding and the door opened.

“We’re here, let’s go.”

You and Yuta carefully left the elevator and you can feel the thick mattress laid like a red carpet across the hallway. This sure must be a top restaurant.

You walked gracefully with one stick on your hand and head held up. Having Yuta by your side somewhat comforts you.

You found yourself seated on a chair where the night breeze tickles you. Yuta excused himself after telling you he will be around, you can always wave and call him for a command.

You reluctantly let him go and waited for the man in front of you to speak. You assumed someone was there since a hint of cologne doesn’t miss your nose.

The introduction began; you learned his name, age, job, and nationality. He’s Mark Lee, a 26 years old song writer. He enjoys light conversation and his jokes are quiet funny. He loves watermelon so much to the point that you worry if he is alright. And you didn’t share the same movie genre. He is a successful man for his young age!

You skipped all the boring questions after learning his interests and telling him yours. You put on your cold face, cold heart, and prepared yourself to hear the truth.

“Okay so Mark, you’re a kind person and wonderful, but I just want to ask you,” You paused and bit your lips hesitating.

“Sure, ask me anything!”

“Why are you expecting to date me a blind girl?” You played with a napkin in your lap while waiting for his answer.

Mark froze and thought for a moment; hey he actually did not know the girl he is seeing tonight is blind. Her dating profile did not include that.

You snapped him from the silence, “It’s okay if you cannot answer. I know your answer already. You didn’t expect this right?”

Mark opened his mouth, about to make a rebuttal, but no words came out.

You straightened your back and raised your head to face him, “I can feel how you try your best not to hurt me, but love should not be forced right?” you waved your hand and wished Yuta saw you.

“I’m sorry,” Mark shot his vision to the sky line of Seoul at night.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault. I was the wrong one. It was nice knowing you Mark, thank you and good bye.” You grabbed your stick and left the restaurant with a confused Yuta by your side.

Yuta saw the man, he looked nice and cute. He was also successful and playful. Yuta actually would agree if this man dated (y/n), but he didn’t know why (y/n) did not even bother talking more or even learning his face. Come to think of it, she has never touched Yuta’s face too before.

On the way back home, you bombarded Yuta with tons of questions.

“Yuta tell me do I look like a fool when I enter the restaurant earlier? I’m sure people wonder why a blind girl like me go there… to meet a man. A wonderful man! Gosh why would he choose me over pretty idols and normal girls?” You ranted out your heart, a tear escaped from your eyes.

Yuta glanced from the rear mirror and saw you crying, “No, you didn’t look like a fool. You look pretty like princesses. No one looked at you in a bad way.” Yuta truthfully spilled you his heart’s answers, but earlier was nowhere near that.

“I heard the whispers and murmurs Yuta! Don’t lie to me too, please”  you scoffed and threw your eyes to the window.

“But for me you’re doing so great for a first date, just that I thought Mark was cute enough to be your man.” Opinionated Yuta.

“He’s not my style; I don’t feel any spark of chemistry. Aish just focus on the road. I’m not doing anymore dates! People are only hurting my feelings.” You bit your lips and cried in silence.

You knew no one would date a blind girl unless they really like her, or fate made you two a thing. You rested your head on the window pane and memories of your brother flooded you. He would’ve been your dating coach if he’s still here, but no. Fate took him away from you, and fate took Jongin too.

You changed. Even worse.

You’re once again the cold, heartless young lady.

The dark thoughts of being blind haunted you every time you wanted to go to bed, or when you started your day.

Your mind repeatedly reminded you that you’re a blind person, who can only rely on someone else, vulnerable, bratty, and useless. You realized it will be hard and almost impossible to found a man who loves you truly for who you are, and not for the money and wealth.

You blamed fate for making you blind, you blamed everyone who made a small mistake, and it was not rare for you to rant your emotion out to Yuta. You hit him; you flooded him with tears, you basically made his life hard.

“Yuta I hate my life! What did I do wrong that I end up blind and have no donors for me up to this day?!”

Yuta detested to tell you the fact that, a lot of donors were found but none were compatible. He doesn’t want you to lose hope.

“Hey, listen I will be here by your side. We will find  a suitable donor, and you will soon see colors again,”

You stared into the thin air, “Do you know how hard it is for me, to actually lose sight. Since young, I’ve enjoyed watching sceneries, seeing colors, play with paints, and pour my emotion in a canvas? I miss painting, Yuta.” A small smile greeted your lips when you imagined what painting felt like, “ I miss sneaking out at night to the garden, to paint the starry night. I miss walking with my brother to a hill by the end of town, to just sit on the grass and paint what I felt that day.” Your heart grew warm from the memory, you wiped a tear that left your eyes. your smile faded and your lips pouted.

“Now I can’t even remember what it feels like to finish a painting, I forgot how colors made me feel. I lost everything I love. How miserable can life be?” you threw a sad look to Yuta on your left. Lucky he was in that side.

Yuta sighed and suddenly left you by yourself.

“Yuta? Yuta! Hey where are you going” you shouted when you heard his  foot steps leaving you and a door closing.

He ignored your call and made his way to the kitchen. It’s already eleven and you’re nowhere near sleeping. Yuta needed to make sure you rest enough, so he returned to you with a cup of hot lavender tea. You always have that when you don’t feel sleepy.

“How dare you leave me alone?! What if someone came and tried to harm me? Yuta you’ve worked for three years and you still leave me suddenly?”

Yuta was used to this. You would make small matters big whenever you’re having a rage.

“Here, have your lavender tea, then we will sleep. You’re tired okay from everything. Let’s sleep and tomorrow I will bring you somewhere.” Yuta impatiently fixed your pillows and blanket. You drank your tea to calm yourself down and forcefully followed his command. Without saying good night to him, you faced the other way around and closed your eyes. What Yuta did earlier hurts your feeling. Childish? Yes you are!

Yuta covered you in the blanket, then he left you after saying good night. He stretched his body as he made his way to his own room. How tiring was it to deal with a ranting (y/n).  He smiled to himself when he remembered what he wanted to do tomorrow. Yuta dropped his tired body on the soft mattress and drove to dreamland faster than you did.

--

Yuta shot his eyes opened in alarm as the ringer on his nightstand rang and lighted up. He quickly put on his clothes and cursed at himself for sleeping in. Usually he was always up early before (y/n). Yuta dashed to your room, hairs still untidy just to reach you before one minute.

“Good… morning,” Yuta spoke between his breath.

You squinted your eye brow and listened to his panting, “You just ran?”

“Sorry I slept in, anyways I’m here now. Where would you like to go?” Yuta walked to your side to help you got out of the bed.

You stretched a bit before looking at him confused, “You asked? Of course I need to join mother and father for breakfast. Why did you even ask?”

Yuta yawned and scratched the back of his head “What’s wrong with me today?!” was all he questioned himself.

You made it to the breakfast after a quick bath, Yuta also left to take his shower.

Under the warm water, you laughed a little from Yuta’s sudden weird memory. Yuta was ready to accompany you descend the stairs after you’ve put on your morning dress.

Your parents were waiting for you already on the table and your casual breakfast started. Yuta sat across you, as per usual, and helped drive your food to the center of your plate.

Breakfast almost ended in peace, not until your mother decided to ruin your Sunday with another disastrous news.

“Mum’s sorry about your first date, Mark… I found you another sweet man, this time he knew about your condition and he agreed to come and bring you to the beach. Didn’t you told me you missed the beach?” Mother excitedly explained her big news.

You paused your movements and dropped your fork away from your mouth. “Not again mom?”

Your dad tried his best to keep you in a good mood, “He’s a nice guy, can we try for this once? Maybe going to the beach can make you happier too!”

“I didn’t want to go with a stranger. I want to go with you guys.” You tossed your fork and slightly pushed the half finished plate. Yuta looked at you confused, you never left a plate of waffles unclean.

“It was not a good memory for me,” you crossed your arms across your chest and stared down.

“Oh come on my (y/n)~ Try to make a happy memory then with this sweet guy. Please he will pick you up tomorrow!” your mother clasped her hands in delight.

“Beside Yuta will also join you, you’re not to be alone. Come to think of it, Yuta why don’t you bring your girl along and you can also enjoy the beach with your girl?” Your father offered a solution he thought might be a great idea.

You scoffed, “then Yuta will definitely forget me and be busy with his girl. What if someone harms me?”

Yuta hid a small smile, he felt satisfied seeing you jealous.

Your mother didn’t or pretended not to hear your scowl, instead she joined into father’s plan deeper. “Yeobo, that’s a super great idea! Yuta tell me if you still have nobody, I can help you look for one.”

You turned your head to look at Yuta and cocked a brow, though you cannot see his respond back, you frowned when you heard his happy reply.

“I’d love that mother,” He called your mother by the word mother. And he won her heart.

You the sound of  a chair pushed back and small foot steps she made while looking for her phone.

You glanced at your plate in disbelief, Yuta can just leave you like that? Your father saw your plate, he ascended and sat beside you.

He took over your plate and cur the remaining portion, “Eat up princess, you don’t want to get sick right? I promise the man you’ll see tomorrow is a nice guy. You’ll have a lot of fun! Now finish your breakfast.” He drove the fork back into your hand and tapped it lightly.

Yuta has left his chair to help clean the plates, leaving  you alone with your imaginations and plate.

“Yuta what’s your type?” Your mother excitedly followed Yuta around while asking him questions.

You covered your ears, but their conversations were as clear as a whistle!

“Yuta likes a petite girl, have a beautiful smile, likes nature especially mountains, love art, understands peace, acts like a lady, and of course who will love him purely.” You memorized a new thing inside your head. Well you overheard him answering mom, and it looked like the girl Yuta wanted was near perfect.

You wondered why your mother never asked you what kind of man do you prefer?

With the help of your stick, you made your way out of the house and into the garden. You called Vision and he ran to stand by your side. You don’t walk too far, you found your way to the bench and you sat there. You counted the time Yuta needed to realize you’re gone and for him to look for you.

Your mind drove you back to ten minutes ago, why does it hurt your heart when you heard Yuta will be walking with another girl… a girl he loves? You felt dejected when you heard his criteria of girl. You suddenly remembered of course Yuta will look for a pretty and perfect girl, not anyone like you. Though you don’t know why you were thinking of this.

30 minutes passed, you heard him calling for you and your sour face melted as a smile replaced them.

“(Y/n)! Where are you? Vision?” Yuta yelled through the big garden.

Your wealthy family provided you a big house, a big garden, and a bright shelter.

“Ah here you are!” Yuta tapped on your shoulder lightly and smiled when you remained silence.

“You’re not talking? Fine. Let me tell you, we’re going on a double date on Tuesday!” Yuta’s voice sounded too cheerful, or you’re just too salty.

“I don’t care Yuta, beside I don’t know yet if I’m coming or not to the beach.” You shrugged your shoulder.

Yuta sat by your side and held your hand, his sudden action caught your attention.

“Let’s forget that for a moment. I want to bring you to a place you missed. Now do you want to change or shall we go?” Yuta pulled you to stand up.

You rolled your eyes, what nonsense is this again?

“Let me at least wear a proper shoes.” You wriggled your toes from a fit flop.

Yuta excitedly helped you changed your shoes and after bidding farewell to your parents, Yuta drove the car through the highway.

He rolled the window down after an hour of drive and you could smell the grass, you felt the fresh  air greeted your body, and you knew he’s headed to a hill.

He told you to inhale the fresh clean air as he busily took out a picnic mat and several other heavy things. Yuta laid down the mat and assisted you to take a sit while he finished packing out the baggage.

Yuta returned by your side with two blank canvas, a set of paints and brushes.

“Thanks for bringing me here, I miss this place. Tell me Yuta how does the scenery looks like?” You tossed your head to his side.

Yuta glanced into your bright happy face and closed his eyes, trying to feel the same thing you did.

“This place? Nothing changed I guess. A hill is supposed to look like a hill right. But I feel the peaceful fresh air. There’s no one else here.” Yuta peeked over his eyelids to make sure it’s true.

You raised your head to look at the sky, how you really wish you can see the blue sky with cotton clouds.

“I miss painting,” You mumbled to yourself.

“Then let’s make one.” Yuta suddenly held your hand and placed a brush on your palm.

You were stunned, confused to find someone telling you to paint when you’re blind.

“The canvas is here, feel the length and width first,” he lead your hand to feel the edges and size of the canvas.

“You can call me if you want to change brush, or you can feel them here, on your right side.” Yuta shook the can of brush beside your right ear.

“The paint will be on your left.” He brought your left hand to touch the palette.

“What about the colors Yuta?” Your voice sounded hopeless.

“I haven’t made it. You, you will make the colors by yourself. I will hand you the color, you put it on your palette.” Yuta smiled for his brilliant idea.

“Babo! I’ll definitely ruin the painting. I’ll mess the colors.” You put down the brush he placed on your hand earlier.

“I know you’re trying to make me happy, but I can’t paint anymore Yuta.” Your hand sadly touched the blank canvas.

Yuta took a deep breath, “Look, you paint not with those eyes. You’ll paint with the eyes of your heart. Just draw it there on the canvas. Spread your emotion, spill everything. Believe me, it will make your heart lighter.”

Yuta planted his eyes into yours with much hope. he really wanted to make you happy by doing things you love.

You smirked knowing Yuta won’t give up. Not when he already drove an hour away from the town and prepared all of this. You sighed, you lost today.

“Fine Yuta, I want red, yellow, and black on my palette. Put them in order from left to right. I’m painting my annoyed feeling because of a stubborn man sitting beside me.”

Your hand found the brush you desire and after making sure where the canvas and paints were,  you started making random shapes at the canvas. It was hard at first for you to decipher where your brush was,  but after several strokes and missing the edge… you started to get a hang of it.

Your enthusiast in painting burned within your soul again. Yuta was right, after each stroke, you felt your anger and sadness flew away. You stopped when your heart felt light and you called Yuta.

“Yuta, please blue and green! White too” you peeked your head over the canvas. Your face was stained with several splashes of paints, Yuta who was focusing on his own canvas had to stop and helped you with the colors.

“How is it? Does it scream at you?” You cheekily mocked him.

Yuta gaped at the masterpiece in front of you. Not gonna lie, the emotions were perfectly drawn in the colors you chose. The strong and brave lines showed how fed up you were in the dark world. Though he wondered why you wanted to add blue and green and white in it, he didn’t ask anything.

“It’s super you. Mad and furious all the time.” Yuta giggled and jumped away before you got the chance to slap him.

“YOU MADE ME DO THIS OKAY! AND YOU’RE MOCKING ME. HOW DARE YOU?!” you shook your brush furiously and Yuta can only laugh at you. He descended back to his position and continued his art work.

You’re back focusing on your emotions and masterpiece. The cool breeze, warm sun, and soft humming from Yuta calm you down. You have a smile on your face as you delicately moved your brush over the raging colors.

Truth be told, you really enjoy the activity Yuta did for you. Since that day, there has been several quick run away where Yuta will bring you to a quiet place and lets you paint what you're feeling. He successfully tames your anger and you're no longer the horrendous tiger, you're now a fuzzy cat.

 Sun rises and sun sets, you've met several men from different backgrounds and lately you're losing hope to find your significant other. Well you've been asking them the same question and there was not single one answer which satisfies you.

Until one day on a quiet alley, Yuta brought you here since he said he needs to clear his head. Well his dates were all canceled, because you… you always do something to make him unavailable. Yuta only attended the first date where your parents made the two of you have a double date. Something in your heart doesn't like the attention Yuta gave to other girls… so you've always tried to make him unable to go.

You actually feel bad because Yuta might not realize you're doing things on purpose.

“Yuta,” you call out his name softly after feeling that he is not around you.

Turns out he was several feet away from you, painting a scenery of his choice. The said man glances from his canvas and walks to your side.

After giving out a single breath, he responds. “What can I help you with?”

There was ice in his voice and you suddenly feel bad for making him this sensitive. Yuta has never sounded this cold and heartless. Was it because of what you did last night?

**flashback**

“(Y/n)! Wish me luck! I'm going to the cinema tonight… she's my fifth date and I hope this time it goes well..” Yuta smiles brightly as he prepares everything you may need before he goes. You’ll be alone with the maids only, your parents are gone for a business trip.

You're on the music room, getting ready to practice your piano. At first you send him off easily. Yuta drives away and you've engaged yourself in the music piece.

An hour after his departure, you feel bored and decided to think of a way so Yuta can go home and maybe accompany you to bed while telling stories.

You think of any way that will make Yuta go home directly and with the help of one of the youngest maid in your house (which of course is close to you) … you made an “emergency" situation.

The maid called Yuta and the innocent man has to sadly finish his date night quickly. He drives the girl back home safely and lied to her that his mother is suddenly ill and he had to take care. The date bought his lie and at nine, he is already running through the house like a mad man. Yelling to the maids for not calling any medic helps and he found you sitting on your piano chair looking fine.

His breathing was short from running and the panic, “What happened?! What’s the emergency. Marry called telling me I have to come here quick.” Yuta said from the door.

He quirks his brow when he sees you're looking so fine. You feel his death grip on your shoulders as he toss your body around to check where the emergency is.

“Tell me what happened?!” His tone raises and you're suddenly so scared.

You gulped and suddenly feel so afraid. Why did the joke feel so horrifying right now.

You can sense his furious glare when he realized it's another “emergency" you made just to cancel his date plan.

“What is it now?” Yuta tries his best to not punch you in the face.

A tear escaped from  your eye and you're shaking from fear.. “i'm sorry Yuta.. sorry.. but I had a panic attacked earlier when I suddenly remember the car crash.. and.. and..”

Yuta's eyes widen when  he heard your reasoning.. well he knew if it's about the accident and panic attack… it is a serious matter.

“and then what? Did Marry fetch you your medicine?” Yuta kneels down beside you and gently brings you into his arms.

You snuggle into his embrace and a small smile appears from your lips. “Yeah… but.. she cannot make the best chocolate drink you always make.”

You can feel his body tensed and he suddenly lets go off the hug and straighten your body

“WAIT- you called me home just to make you a cup of hot chocolate?!”

You nod “and I actually got a paper cut… which I did not know until Marry came.”

Yuta darts his eyes to the white tiles and yeah there were some bloods there.

“You should learn to know when an emergency is really an emergency.” He suddenly snaps when he realizes you're playing with him. His voice no longer contains honey and there was only cold ice.

“You know what? I'll teach marry to make the hot cocoa and please don't ruin my date all the time.” He warns you and leaves the room with one loud door slam.

It came to his mind like a flood… all of his dates always fail because you.. you always made a small scene big.. and his heart will make him run away home. He did not know why he cared for you so much, he shrugged it off as “It's my duty to keep you safe.”

--

“Again? She ruined your date?” Taeyong, a long friend of Yuta, asked from the other side of the call.

Yuta nods “Yeah…” they're video calling and Taeyong’s face brightens “I knew it! She likes you Yuta!”

“Nani?!” his japanese tongue comes out.

Taeyong claps his hands “She likes you! Baka! Can't you realize she is jealous?! Gosh do you like her??”

Yuta thinks for a while “I'm not sure…”

“Do you feel like you have to keep her safe but not as a duty?”

Yuta nods

“Do you feel annoyed when you see other man seeing her but they show they regretted going there?”

“Well yeah that part… I had to hold myself back everytime! I wanted to puch them Tae! Had you seen their faces, you'd want to punch them too.”

Taeyong clicks his tongue “You always want to make sure she is happy? If it’s a yes… then congratulations Yuta! You're in love.”

Yuta goes red “I need time to process everything…”

Taeyong smirks “You will always need time but time is not what we all have in this world. Come on! Think quick, bring her to a date or talk with her about her favorite things! Take her heart before she totally hides it!”

Yuta smiles when he suddenly remembers what you want from a man and he quickly bids goodbye to his friend “Thank you Taeyong! You're the best! Good bye~”

--

In the hill, where everything is dark to you… you suddenly feel small and scared. Yuta brought you here, but he hasn’t open his mouth yet. You're afraid he actually left you here and ran away.  

When he finally opened his mouth to answer you, you did not expect a cold tone to greet you.

After giving out a single breath, he responds. “What can I help you with?”

There was ice in his voice and you suddenly feel bad for making him this sensitive. Yuta has never sounded this cold and heartless.

You fiddled with the dress you wore, “I am sorry. I am just a parasite to your life. I'm only ruining your youth and happiness…” your voice cracked and trembled. Which seriously took Yuta by surprise.

“Hey what are you talking about?” Yuta's voice softened but you didn’t realize that.

You sniffled  “I just want to find my love Yuta..  like mom said I want to find the one who can help me see colors again.”

Yuta’s heart clenched and he walked closer to pull you into his embrace “(y/n), you do know the doctors said my eyes somehow cannot be given to you, but if you're willing to give me a chance, I can help you see colors one more time.”

Your heart pounded faster upon hearing his sweet voice, what is this warm feeling creeping up your cheeks?

You leaned into his hug “What do you mean?” you were confused. Earlier he looked like he was super mad at you, but now he's like the sweetest man in the world.

Yuta takes a deep breathe, earlier he cleared his mind and upon stepping on the alley and feeling the wind blew, he felt way better. Yuta also remembered what Taeyong said and he felt like he needed to give it a shot.  Try to win your heart.

“Alright, come here you don’t want to be lost princess.” He took your arm into his and you followed him.

“We will start with Red,” Yuta brought you to the area where the sun shone brightly.

“Look up, there's the sun and now when you feel your skin burn.. that is red. Red is burn, fear, and emotion.”

You feel your skin burning and your mind recorded everything.

Next yuta pulled you to a shadier place “Here let me take off your shoes, you trust me?” he asked when he kneeled down to take your shoes.

You nodded your head and felt the prickly grass beneath your feet.

“The grass will help you feel green. Green is color of life.” Yuta rolled his own pants and took off his shoes too. He enjoyed the same sensation you were going through.

You did not realize a small smile is coming to your lips, you can once again feel life.

“Happy?” he asked and you nodded, still holding on to his firm arm “Now it's gonna be slippery, but trust me.” He held your hand tighter and you felt a cool stream running under your feet.

You giggled “Water?”

Yuta smiled “Blue! This is blue, the cool feeling and relaxation.”

Your head started to guess what color will come next, and Yuta looked like he prepared this already.

Next he announced you to the color “Yellow, it's calming and you still feel happy.” He said when you sit on the grass as Yuta dried your feet and let you feel the sun kiss your cheek.

“Hey (y/n), can you help me?” he suddenly asked for your favor. You turned your head to face him, giving him a “what?” face.

“Help you?” you asked a bit confused.

“Yes, I need you to help me comb my hair, the wind blew too hard on them.” He lied there's no wind… but you bought his lie.

“Umm okay, let me try… come here.” You reached out your hand and waited for a comb to land but Yuta said “Use your fingers.”

You gently ran your fingers through his soft locks and you love the feeling of helping him and playing with his hair.

“Thank you! I look handsome now.” He held your hands in his big ones as he sat across you face to face.

“That is white, the pure feeling of helping someone.” Yuta rubbed his thumbs over your knuckles.

You cannot explain your feelings right now. Your heart thumped so hard on your chest, your stomach felt funny and your head couldn’t think straight.

But suddenly you felt empty, you felt the breeze of the wind turning wild and strong. You reached out your hands to the space “Yuta? Yuta!” your voice turned into a scream and you wildly looked for him.

You wanted to cry, did he leave you after playing with your emotion? But you suddenly felt his warm arms back at your shoulder

“That is black, something you may see everyday… but the feeling of being alone and afraid represented black.”

You quickly held to his hands, afraid he will leave you again but Yuta won’t.  

The japanese man sat next to your side as you leaned your head to his shoulder.

“Thank you Yuta-" you whispered, but he was faster. He kissed your cheek and you blushed and froze in place.

“The last color is pink, the heat creeping up in your cheeks and the fluttery butterfly feeling you have when you fall in love.” Yuta sweetly explained and he was glad no one saw his deep red face.

Your smile grew wider as you touched your cheek that felt warm from his kiss. You turned your head to face him and like magic, your hand could find his chin in one go and you pulled him into a deep kiss.

Yuta didn’t refuse your kiss, he helped you by placing your hands over his cheeks and for the first time you realized Yuta has a handsome face.

“And that I can tell you, is how I see rainbows, Yuta!” you giggled when the kiss ended.

Yuta smoothed your hair lovingly and pulled you to his shoulder “Then I am ready to help you see more rainbows”

You smirked and punched his shoulder playfully “Thank you, I really want to thank you.”

“It's not a problem.” He shrugged his shoulder. His heart is also happy knowing you're glad.

“So… is it mutual?” you chuckled dryly, afraid of the awkward feeling this will turn to if Yuta didn’t like you in the same way.

Yuta pulled you close to his heartbeat “Hear that?”

You nodded

“That's what you did to me all the time!”

You blushed “So you did like me! Why don’t you do this sooner?”

Yuta rolled his eyes “I'm sorry. I'm a newbie too.”

You giggled “I am glad I found the man who can help me see colors again! I love you, Yuta" you sincerely stared into his eyes and for the first time, Yuta could see your eyes sparkle with life again.

“And I love you most.”

“so, when are you ready to meet my mom?” you boldly questioned him.

“Eh? That soon?” he sounded surprised

You laughed “Kidding.  I won’t rush you! Tell me okay when you're ready? Because I am ready.”

Yuta smiled and tucked your hair away from your face “Keep smiling like this for me, you're beautiful and life is also beautiful if you think that way. I can't give you back the colors in your life, but I can help you make colors and feel them for the rest of our life.”

Although you never know when you can see colors again, you’re ready to walk with Yuta in this dark world where he can be the source of your light and brings back the color to your life.

end.

leave comments and feedbacks please :D thank you so much for finishing this fic! I’ll try my best to make better stories

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[kaorimiyazonotl]

Life After 2020

Life as we know it evolved and changed in more ways than one, and that's normal. The word “normal” is a word that people use to describe the usual occurrences of our world. It’s our daily routine. That’s being human. People tend to say that “the world keeps evolving,” and so far it has been evolving very quickly. With each passing day of 2021, people were supposed to be finding ways to recover for the chaotic year of 2020, where everyone suffered greatly in one way or another. This year we’ve been on a tipsy road covered in cracks.

At first it was just another year of masks, social distancing, and online learning for teachers and students. March marked one year. Some people thought 2021 might be the year where everything slowed down and all our worries disappeared. The truth is people’s daily worries don’t go away that easily. We are not cruising through 2021 like we thought we would. Which made me question whether or not the world itself will go back to normal.

People have probably heard that “2020 was such a tough year.” Well, that’s the past, the present is now. According to every news article, television, and social media network 2020 is happening again. Only this time students and teachers haven’t gone back online. The world has been divided like a great battle against one another and it’s been going on for a year and a half. I understand that this is and continues to be a part of our world, but when will we stop wearing masks?

Over the summer I went to New Mexico and the word normal popped into my head. I remembered the days where life was at least decent and you could see a smile on someone’s face. But when August came around it was like 2020 all over again, back to wearing masks. A mask covers everything, from smiles to frowns. Nowadays the only way we can tell someone’s expression is by taking our masks off or looking into each others’ eyes.

In the beginning of 2021 things remained practically the same, stores were closing, dine in restaurants weren’t available still and the continuation to keep our masks on once you’ve entered a place were still intact. So nothing new was really happening except what the news was showing us. But progress was happening, just not not big enough to see but small enough to notice. Still as the saying goes “we’re in the same boat” or “you are not alone” everyone had to face the same thing that was happening. It’s very cliche to hear since people have used that saying before, nevertheless it’s true since everyone went through something just as similar.

We probably all were “in the same boat” last year, but everyone’s method of coping is different. People don’t suddenly recover, it’s a step-by-step process that takes a while. That’s just how things are. Still, the question remains: Will life go back to normal? Will we be able to handle the new changes in the world?

First off; there is no such thing as normal, it is just a word used to describe something plain or to describe a person who dresses or acts like everybody else. I’m asking if life will go back to the way it used to be. There are possibilities to anything, about the way we think, might know, and what we’re searching for. So, we might not even know the whole truth to this question.

According to health experts say that for normalcy to return “. . .the country needs to reach herd immunity...The more people are vaccinated, the less likely the virus will spread.” ( What will the end of the COVID pandemic look like? - WHYY). So that could be our saving grace, if that ends up happening. But what if there are people who don’t want to get vaccinated? What will experts say then? People have their own beliefs and some will do what they think is right.

But other people say differently, that the “normal life” isn’t back yet, and it doesn’t appear “normal will be coming back fully this fall,” says writer Jim Geraghty (Is 'Normal' COVID-19 Life for Americans Going to Return by 2022?). Well, it depends on the people and where they stand.

I know that where I stand I have my own beliefs and opinions. I still have much to learn, however, I should at least have the capability of knowing right from wrong. That’s the meaning of existence, people think they know right from wrong based on what they believe in. As teenager’s we think we might know, but we’re still learning. Our parents may tell us what our beliefs are but we choose where we stand between certain beliefs. We also know that because we want freedom we can’t just do as we please.

In the real world, we have tons of responsibilities. If there are teens who are easily influenced, it’s going to be tough for them. Life itself is like taking a big test, it’s to see if young adults are capable of being independent, responsible, and capable of working well with others. From the article What will the end of the COVID pandemic look like? - WHYY, Gretchen Chapman, a psychology professor at Carnegie Mellon University, thinks that “it’s the responsibility of health experts to guide people about which activities are safe and which aren’t as more and more people are vaccinated.” What exactly do people think that belief or theory will lead to? Why follow sheep when we can be the shepherd?

Throughout school, we were taught to “be a leader, not a follower.” But not everyone is perfect so how do we know? From our perspective of things, we can only tell by what our beliefs are and how strong they are. But health experts also say that “It’s not certain what percentage of the population needs to be vaccinated...But many medical experts estimate that it’s 70% to 80%.” ( What will the end of the COVID pandemic look like? - WHYY) It is uncertain that maybe by fall things should go smoothly if we follow what they think is true.

If things go upwards then by 2022 things “should be normal, or at least whatever qualifies as normal post-pandemic...The virus will still exist, but one possibility is that it will be less likely to make people severely ill and that it will [be] like the flu..but the virus wouldn’t rage out of control again,” Writer Joe Pinsker put in the articleThe Most Likely Timeline for Life to Return to Normal - The Atlantic

So as of next year, there is a hypothetical theory that “normalcy” to the world won’t be showing up until next year? And will the virus be contained this time? Well, this is just a simple theory. As I have said things change all around us, what if it’ll take multiple years to recover? How will we know if what they say isn’t true at all? There are so many unknown questions that everyone has and we don’t even have the answers to most of those questions.

Students at my school have their own beliefs about whether or not the world will go back to normal. Most students had the same answer but everyone I interviewed had a strong opinion on the question asked. Some students said, “look at the facts,” “Once everyone is [or gets] vaccinated things should be okay.” But my most favorite would be from a student who had pointed out that “Once you progress there is no going back.” In my honest opinion it is true, life keeps going forward, yesterday was the past, today is the present and tomorrow is the future.

Every student compared how the world was and what it could or could not turn out to be by relating it to history. It “repeats itself..things that have stopped for a while they always have a way to resume back to normal. Like when the black plague happened [or] when the Spanish flu [happened]..it never went away [but] it took so long for life to go back to normal.”

Particularly speaking, there is a possibility that it may take years or more for life to return to normal. Normalcy does take a while to recover, it may take more than just months and like people always say “life isn't easy.” But those are students who referred life back to history and stated that it took years for them to handle the situation.

Students who said yes to the world returning to normal, most of them all replied the same. “People will get vaccinated,” “We should be vaccinated,” “the more people get vaccinated” or “Because we already have a vaccine.” They think that being vaccinated will turn things around, that’s what they hope for, they believe if people get the vaccine we should go back to normal. But you can’t force people to do what you think is right. That’s not how the world works, we are all entitled to our own opinion.

A student whose a junior, had said “I think covid, being here won't change anything even if people do get vaccinated.” That might be true some students said that covid will be around for a long time now and it’s not going to go away, not that easily. “We barely go back down and go back up.” If the roller coaster continues there’s no telling if what the students have said is true. It may take years to get back on track. Normalcy is just a word used to describe anything, but there is no such thing as normal, to begin with. I think that there is a fifty-fifty percent chance that there will be major changes in the future. There are a ton of possibilities to anything and everything.

#life decisions #summer 2021

[impala-dreamer]

Two Weeks Notice - Day Six

~With the world practicing self-isolation, Y/N and Dean break all the rules of social distancing and common decency as they explore an empty bunker and use the time alone to their playful advantage…~ 

Dean x Reader

1,947 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Fluffy, Costumed Smut.

Two Weeks Notice Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ My Original Works on Amazon

Dean lay back in bed, memory foam mattress forming perfectly around his aching hips. He’d never admit it in a thousand years, but Y/N’s Fuck-Fest 2020 was making him a bit sore around the joints. Not that he was complaining. He was enjoying the ever-loving hell out of it, and her. There was something very relaxing about doing whatever you wanted with no fear of someone else- Sam - walking in on you at the wrong moment. Hell, he was even considering not wearing pants for the rest of the week.

That and Y/N seemed so open to play at whatever popped into his head. He was certain the whole vampire thing wouldn’t go down well, but she leapt at the chance and played it out perfectly. They were exploring each other and the bunker and it was magical. He had almost forgotten that the outside world was in chaos and that Chuck was breathing down their necks.

Almost.

Alone for a moment, he fluffed up the pillow behind him and texted his brother.

‘How’s it going up there?’

As always, Sam answered quickly. ‘Fine. A little bored stuck in the house, but we’re getting by. How’s Y/N?’

‘Oh, she’s doin reeeallll good.’

Dean could picture the look of disgust on Sam’s face.

‘Make sure you guys are washing your hands and… disinfecting the sheets.’

Dean laughed at the screen. ‘I don’t think the sheets are the problem…’

‘Gross. Clean up before I get back, please.’

‘You got it. Hey Sammy- Stay safe up there, OK?’

‘Obviously…. You too.’

As much fun as he was having, he did miss Sam, and Jody, and the girls, and Cas.

“Ahem.”

Y/N’s call to attention did just that, shoving away any lamenting thoughts from Dean’s mind and focusing his eyes on the doorway. The door was open and under the frame stood Y/N, wrapped in a familiar tan trench coat, the sash pulled tight around her waist.

Dean’s jaw dropped.

“Hey there, sexy,” she greeted, posing for him, one bare knee popping out from the folds of the coat.

He swallowed hard, trying to wrap his head around the intensely arousing sight before him. “Hey yourself,” he whispered back, tripping over his tongue.

Y/N ran one hand slowly up the door frame, the long sleeve of the coat dropping down to reveal a smooth, naked arm. “Whatcha doin’?”

A bit of drool sloshed from the corner of his mouth and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “Wonderin’ where you got Cas’s coat from.”

Y/N licked her lips and turned slowly so that he would see all her curves and edges. “Stole it from his room. Who knew he had more than one of these things?”

“He’s gone through a few over the years.” There was a lump in Dean’s throat that he was sure was his lust in physical form, and he spoke around it, trying to keep his cool. “None have ever fit him like that though.”

She took a step inside the room, bare feet moving in a perfect dance toward the bed. Her hips swayed, her lips parted. “You like?” Painted fingers ran over the sash and tugged the ends, squeezing her waist even tighter.

Dean lost his breath. “Uh...yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Y/N laughed sweetly. “Knew you would.”

His brow raised as she neared the bed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

One knee on the bed, mattress moulding around her. “Nothing, it’s just...sometimes you get a look in your eye when Cas is around.”

Dean startled, pushing himself up against the headboard, crushing the pillows beneath him. “I don’t have a thing for Cas,” he said sternly.

“I didn’t say you did.”

“You kinda did.”

“Whoa!” Y/N threw her hands up and laughed to herself. “All I’m saying is…guys in long coats are hot. And so is Cas. He’s a damned angel for fuck’s sake. Who wouldn’t wanna try it if they could?”

Dean pouted and shrugged, thinking it over. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And anyway, Cas isn’t here right now.” Another knee on the bed and Y/N climbed over him, fitting her thighs tight around his. “And I’m wearing a surprise for you beneath all this tan.”

Dean licked his lips and lifted his knees, forcing Y/N to slide closer to him. “Oh, really?” He chewed his lip and tried to peek between the coat folds. “Whatcha got on under there? That hot pink strappy thing?”

Y/N shook her head, grinning innocently. “Nope.”

“Hmm… the black one piece with the hole in the-”

“Not even close!”

Dean ran his hands down her back, trying to feel for a clue. “OK, I give up. What’s hiding under all that London Fog?” He flicked at the lapel and Y/N swatted his hand away.

“Tisk, tisk. Patience, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, patience and I ain’t exactly ever been on good terms.”

She smiled and opened the knot on the sash, letting the ties fall to her sides. “Then I guess I won’t keep you waiting any longer.”

His eyes dipped to the buttons as she opened each one, taking her sweet time, driving him insane. When the last was popped, Y/N sat back a bit and pulled open the coat, revealing his ultimate favorite costume: nothing.

Dean growled. “This. This is perfect.” He reached forward and cupped her breasts in his hands, loving the heat of her, the softness. Her nipples hardened instantly beneath his wide palms and she leaned forward to kiss his plump lips.

“You like?”

“Baby,” he moaned, his brain already buzzing with hunger. “I love.”

She bit down his words, sucking them from his mouth with her perfect lips; hands massaging his neck and shoulders, digging into him, begging for him.

He moaned into her mouth, still playing with her tits, loving how close she was, how perfect, heavy against him. He felt himself swelling and let his mind drift as Y/N licked into his ear, nipping and sucking wherever the urge brought her. When she ran out of room, she tugged on his shirt and Dean sat up too quickly to remove it and something popped. A lightning bolt of pain flew from his right shoulder all the way down to his ass and beyond, pooling in his foot until everything went numb for a moment.

“Fuck!”

Y/N flew backwards, hoping off of him as his pained curse filled the room. “What happened? Are you OK?”

Dean hissed and clenched his teeth as he shifted on the bed trying to ease the strange pain. “Yeah, just… something pulled funny.”

Her face dropped and Y/N lay a soothing hand over his heart. “Did I break you?”

Despite the discomfort, Dean laughed and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips. “No. I’m OK. just like… ouch.” With a sigh, he scooted down the bed and found a pillow to crash into. “Come ‘ere.”

Y/N pouted but laid down with him, stealing half of his pillow instead of using her own. She always liked his better anyway. “I’m sorry. Maybe this week’s been too much.”

“Hey.” Dean’s brow creased as he went on the defense. “This week’s been amazing, you shut your mouth. I’m just…”

“Old?”

He scoffed. “How dare you!”

Y/N cupped his jaw and patted his cheek lovingly. “I don’t care how old you get. You’re perfect. And old’s better than dead anyway.” She winked and he nodded.

“You got that right.”

“So let’s just cuddle.” She turned onto her side, facing away from him, and settled in. “You can cuddle, cantcha?”

Dean smiled and rolled to fit himself behind her, one arm slung over her middle. “Yes, ma’am.”

Y/N sighed and lay her hand on his, keeping him there. “Good.”

He closed his eyes and let the pain subside, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. She smelled like apples and wind; like that summer he spent on the farm in upstate New York. Fresh and sunny and real.

She wiggled a bit, getting comfortable, and Dean hummed in interest as her ass rubbed against him; just a thin layer of cotton and that old trench coat lying between them. He pushed his hips forward and let his body do what it wanted.

His lips wanted her throat, so they took it, kissing and suckling at the tender flesh beneath her ear; teeth gently scraping at her shoulder, inducing a shiver that brought her closer still.

His hand wanted her supple flesh, so it rose from her waist to her tits, rolling each nipple between his long, calloused fingers until she moaned and pushed her ass backwards more, arching against him.  

His body wanted more, wanted all of her. He left her breasts and slid down her body, carefully pushing her legs apart and pressing against her pussy. Her heat was intoxicating. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist and urged him onward; her breath becoming heavy as he dipped inside.  

“Want you,” she moaned, twisting her neck to reach his lips.

He kissed her hard. “You have me.”

“You promise?”

Her whisper blew across his lips and Dean nearly died; so taken with every tiny thing about her, he couldn’t think of ever letting her go.

“Promise.”

She turned fully then, knocking his fingers from her thighs, and took his face in her hands, kissing him hard and fully, holding onto every bit of him. When he rolled over her, she paused, pulling back from their kiss to look him in the eye. “Are you sure?”

He grinned and kissed her deeper, pushing her knees apart with his bowed legs. “I’m fine.”

The trenchcoat fell away and Y/N helped him tug the boxers from his hips, gently stripping him with warm fingers and lingering kisses.

"Slow," she whispered, guiding his cock into her. "Go slow. I wanna feel you."

Dean pushed up on his thick arms and let his hips glide back and forth, rocking gently, in and out until he was coated fully in her juices. She felt every inch of him and her body tightened more with each thrust.

“Oh god…” Her eyes were screwed shut and her lips were parted, ripe for the taking. Dean plucked at them with his teeth, sucking her into his mouth as he fell into a steady rhythm, leisurely stoking the fire between them.

When he felt her begin to pulse around his cock, he licked at her lips and set himself perfectly above her. “Y/N, open your eyes.”

She bit her lip as the orgasm loomed, unable to do much more than feel.

“Look at me,” he demanded, soft but firm. Her eyes popped open and an unstoppable smile lifted her lips. “There’s my girl. I wanna see you cum. I wanna watch you.”

Teeth still tucked into her bottom lip, she nodded and her eyes grew wider, an almost manic look taking over as her body let go. She convulsed in his arms, pussy pushing and pulling at his cock, forcing him to join her in mindless bliss for a moment.

Dean’s left elbow crumbled beneath him and he fell down, crushing her into the mattress as he came. He panted against her neck and Y/N wrapped her shaking arms tight around him, hugging him closer.

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” she whispered, expecting nothing in return.

He smiled and kissed her shoulder where the trench coat had fallen aside. He could never find the words when he needed them, ever afraid to voice them, but he knew she knew, and that was enough.

2020 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278​ @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart​ @amanda-teaches​ @bakutododeku69 @because-imma-lady-assface​ @broiderie​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @cheritzie​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @covered-byroses​ @crashdevlin​ @deansotherotherblog​ @deansgirl215​ @deanwanddamons​ @defenderrosetyler​ @dontshootmespence​ @emoryhemsworth​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @focusonspn​ @hannahindie​ @herbologystudent252​ @ilsawasanacrobat​ @justcallmeasmodeus​ @ladyjenny19​ @laxe-from-outer-space @mariekoukie6661​ @missjenniferb​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @msjava1972​ @mylovelydame21​ @mysticmaxie​ @pilaxia​ @sandlee44​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @squirrelnotsam​ @tatted-trina6​ @typicalweirdbookworm​ 

TWN: 

@rebelemilu​ @pastathighs​ @deans-baby-momma​ @bobbie3939​ @peachyafshawn​ @spencer-reids-babygirl @akrasiaev @shadowkat-83​ @deangirl7695​ @foxyjwls007 @bxbyizzy​ @chenshemesh1 @pandaxo79 

#dean x reader #series #smutt #dean winchester x reader

[darkangel0410]

FIC ROUND-UP 2020

Hey, ya'll, as we yell one last ‘FUCK YOU’ at the absolute hell year that was 2020, I thought I would do a fic round-up of everything I wrote this year. Enjoy!

down to the last bone (pre-relationship McEichel, shapeshifter au): Jack doesn't really meet McDavid until they're both playing at the U18's in Finland. He's heard of him, of course, everyone has, and they've run into each other on-ice, but nothing more than that.

on a hot summer’s night (Tkachuks, a/b/o au, mpreg, werewolves, sibling incest): Sometimes he’ll just be making a sandwich or watching a movie and he’ll just get hit with this urge to find Brady and beg him to fuck him, to make sure he knocks him up.

It’s fucked up for a lot of reasons, not least that they're both still at the beginning of their careers, especially Brady, and Matt isn't in a hurry to stop playing for an extended amount of time, weird biological urges aside.

So when it's mid-August and he still hasn't had his late summer heat, Matt's worried and pissed and fucking scared, but still a small part of him hopes that his alpha finally knocked him up.

falling apart (hips and hearts) (McEichel, a/b/o au, heat/rut sex):  The first time they have sex is during the run-up to the draft while they're in Chicago to watch game four of the Final.

strike us like a match (Tkachuks, Sentinel/Guides, bonding, sibling incest): They've always been close, closer than most siblings Matt knows.

sweat drips (love sticks) (Tkachuks, BDSM au, sibling incest, impact play): There's worse things for a hockey player who happens to also be a sub to be than a masochist; at the very least Matt always has a bruise to press when he's jerking off, aches and pains that he can pretend someone put on his skin during a scene if he wants to. Usually he doesn't.

just swimming in our sins (Tkachuks, dick pics, sibling incest, panty kink, rough sex): The thing is they've always been weird about each other.

Matt always thought it was just being brothers, just a product of playing hockey their whole lives and moving around a lot when they were growing up.

But now he's pretty sure that whatever weirdness they have between them has nothing to do with hockey.

feel good (on my lips) (Stromes, a/b/o au, sibling incest, not related au, heat sex): Most of the time it doesn't bother Ryan that his dad forgets he's an alpha; the rest of their family are almost all betas, so Ryan's always just shrugged off being lost in the shuffle.

It mostly doesn't matter to him in the grand scheme of things: he doesn't live at home any more, his ruts are always six months apart so it's easy for him to plan visits home around them. There's never any one that stays at his dad's house, so his old room there still smells like him, there's no other scents there to annoy him when he visits.

It does mean that his dad tends to dismiss other people's dynamics as unimportant, because Ryan is so easy going about his own.

Even when that's information Ryan would really appreciate having ahead of time.

those words, that kiss (Patrik Laine/Nik Ehlers, werewolves, a/b/o au, heat sex): As long as Nik’s happy, that’s all that matters to Patrik. Everything else is secondary to that, even hockey.

take me home (you’re the one true thing) (Tkachuks, soulmate au, sibling incest): They're exactly what they're meant to be, every part of them tangled together, and they wouldn't change any of it no matter what.

eyes closed, fingers crossed (Sam Girard/Erik Johnson, BDSM au, spanking, light punishment): Erik doesn't need to see a video to know that Sam's a good dom.

all your fevered dreams (Tkachuks, hellhounds, sirens, mating fights, sibling incest): Most preternaturals don’t recognize Matt’s scent right away.

The ocean part of it is simple: all sirens smell like saltwater, even if they’re not born at sea the way their ancestors were. It’s the brimstone that makes wolves and other shifters wrinkle their noses in confusion and lean in closer to get a stronger smell, like their noses lied to them the first time.

Matt tolerates it when it’s his teammates trying to familiarize themselves with his scent and even then his patience is limited and he’s not afraid to push them away from him if they get too annoying about it.

Hellhounds are choosy about who they let into their personal space and for how long: Matt’s no exception.

not a day goes by (Brock Boeser/Elias Pettersson, a/b/o au, non-traditional a/b/o dynamics, bonding): He's never looked at an alpha and thought mine. Never wondered how one would look with his collar around their neck.

But Brock is always right there, always within touching distance and smiling at Elias like he can't help himself. Like maybe he wants what Elias wants.

in between (McEichel, godlings au, homophobic slurs): The locker room afterwards is quiet in spite of winning and Connor knows part of it is his own bad mood bleeding over to the rest of the team, but he can't bring himself to care as much as he should.

got you under my skin (Quinn Hughes/Jack Hughes, a/b/o au, sibling incest): “Quinn's not an alpha,” Jack says automatically, even though he can smell the new undertone to Quinn's normal evergreen and oranges scent, the one that's been there since they went to world juniors last year; it’s sharp and heady, and a part of Jack can’t help but focus on it, drawn to it for some reason he can’t explain. “We're betas,” he adds, his voice unsure.

Matty scoffs but doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t really need to: Quinn and Chucky are still fighting, snarling and hitting each other with a ferociousness that seems entirely out of place in the Tkachuk's front yard, and the air seems to be pressing down on Jack, intense with the scent of two enraged alphas, and that says more than any words could.

charlie (Charlie McAvoy/Brandon Carlo, godlings verse): Charlie doesn't remember anyone ever explaining what death, or the afterlife was to him.

beginnings in death (pre-relationship McEichel, in death au): The first time he sees Connor is at a funeral.

nobody loves you (like i do) (Tkachuks, BDSM au, masochism, sadism, rough sex): The thing is Matt doesn’t consider himself romantic or anything like that. He loves Brady: as his dom, as his brother, as his boyfriend, and yeah, he needs him in the same ways, but those are just facts to him.

i love the way you hurt me (Tkachuks, werewolves, animal death, werewolf courting, minor character death): A mate who couldn’t court properly, who didn’t have claws and teeth of their own, wasn’t a mate worth having in Matt’s opinion.

How could you judge someone as worthy when they couldn’t even beat you in a fight?

just like oxygen (McEichel, werewolves, animal death, werewolf courting, minor character death): Even back then Jack knew Connor would change his life.

just to feel you (Tkachuks, a/b/o au, heat sex): Brady knows it’s going to be him and Matt.

They still fight like cats and dogs, as eager to use their fists on each other now as when they were kids, but there's an edge to it recently that wasn't there before, something that makes Brady want to pin Matt to the floor and take him apart, bite by bite.

He thinks Matt would let him, too, the way he watches Brady when he thinks Brady isn't paying attention.

The joke's on him, Brady always pays attention to Matt and what he's doing.

*

Well, that’s it! All things considered, it was a pretty good year for me, creatively speaking. I did some moodboards, too, and maybe I’ll post those tomorrow or at some other point ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I hope ya’ll also had some good things that helped you through this disaster of a year, be safe and I’ll see you on the other side of 2020 ❤❤❤

#my fic #fic stuff #sibling incest #mceichel #werewolf au #a/b/o au #godlings au #in death au #that's hockey baby #gif

[recurring-polynya]

This was very silly. Byakuya was an infinitely patient man. He constantly honed his patience on the whetstones of a thousand obnoxious relatives, the dysfunctions of the Gotei, and his ridiculous adjutant. You knew this would happen, a tiny voice whispered to him. This is why you stayed away from her for so long. She is turning you back into the person you have spent so many years driving away. (Thx!)

call me back when the war is over (ch 6)

My writing doesn’t always end up getting published in the order that I write it. I started writing Call Me Back in the summer of 2019, and it didn’t get published until January of 2020, so it may not be evident that this was the story where I learned to write Byakuya.

The Heart is a Muscle is a slow-burn romance, but it’s not just that, it’s also the story of how Byakuya came to love his sister and... whatever it is he feels for Renji. It’s pretty clear in canon that the second Byakuya stops actively ignoring Rukia, he’s calling her “his pride” and cutting his tendons for her. It’s pretty sudden, but I also think it’s pretty accurate for Byakuya. The man is either all the way in or all the way out. Unfortunately, falling in love with Rukia is one thing. Living with her is another.

Call Me Back is an important turning point story for Byakuya. I’d already established in Between Tides that Rukia had come to mean a lot to him, but he hasn’t really had to consider what that means. I also wanted to bring in the idea that Renji is sort of instrumental to Byakuya and Rukia’s relationship-- that they are too prickly, too sharp-edged, they need a buffer, and this is a role Renji plays well, even when it’s to his own detriment, a fact that forces Byakuya to upgrade his lieutenant from “good-for-nothing” to “good-for-a-few-things, occasionally.” 

Obviously, this necessitated some Byakuya POV sections and I... was not prepared. Byakuya is not really a character I cared about or had empathy for up to this point. I enjoyed writing him in a sort of overblown comedic way (the scene where he makes his 3rd Seat make him tea, Renji-style in See You On the Other Side is still one of my favorite things I have ever written) but I’d never had to really dig into him as a character.

The place I started was: what did I like about Byakuya? Well, I like the fact that he keeps getting charmed by Rukongai dirtbags, that’s a positive thing. I also like that he loved his wife a lot. I went down an entire side path of trying to figure out Hisana, a thing I had sworn I would never do, but that’s a whole other story.

In the middle of this, I wrote Portions for Foxes, a story where Byakuya dies and Rukia and Renji spend the whole story throwing up their hands because they feel like they didn’t understand him and now they never will. They had done a fair amount of this in Between Tides, too, and I realized that it was much easier to write Byakuya when he wasn’t even there.

Along the way, I started deciding on a lot of things that made up Byakuya. He’s better at writing down his feelings than saying them, but he’s a pretty awful communicator, overall. At some point, I noticed that in battles, Byakuya tends to have favorite moves that he uses all the time, Senka, Rikujoukourou. In the Reigai Arc, whenever he fights his Reigai, they just use the same moves against each other constantly. I decided that he’s a bad improvisor, and when I was trying to figure out the Kuchiki sword form, I decided that it’s all pre-set chains of moves that you memorize, because you do them so fast that there’s no time to think and that there’s always a “correct answer” to every situation. Maybe Byakuya’s like that in all of his life, I thought. Maybe it’s hard for him to figure out what to do in social situations, except that since he was raised a noble, he was trained in all these scripts for what to do in various situations, and he just took that to heart because that’s easier for him anyway, and no one has ever really noticed how much he struggles to relate to others.

The more you think about Byakuya, the sadder you get. I, personally, recommend not thinking about Byakuya at all, but this is a grave I have chosen to dig for myself. His parents died, he’s got all these expectations on him, he met the love of his life and she was gone again in a blink of an eye, and then he got saddled with her lookalike. His solution was basically to shut off all of his feelings, and resort to his scripts and just be perfect and never really care about anyone again, and the fact is, no one even notices. He is the perfect Kuchiki Clan Head and Gotei Captain, he is not a person who is loved or even seen, and he has convinced himself this is good and proper. In fact, he regards his hot-headed youth as an outlier-- a mistake. If he hadn’t been so emotional, he never would have fallen in love with Hisana, and he wouldn’t hurt so badly now. He may be deeply lonely, but he feels like he is doing what is correct, so at least if he gets hurt again, he has that to hold onto.

What Byakuya really needs is therapy, and probably also an ASD diagnosis, but instead, he gets two idiots from Rukongai who show up and care about him, even though he doesn’t deserve it. At this point in the story, he’s still trying to convince himself he can love Rukia without changing himself in any way, but he’s wrong, of course, and the rest of the series is about him getting progressively wronger.

Apparently, I also thought I could somehow learn to write Byakuya without caring about him, and I was also wrong. I am pretty good at writing him now, but I still haven’t decided if it was worth it.

#dvd commentary meme #writing is not a hobby for the faint of heart #it's all fun and games until you start projecting all over a problematic disaster man

[gemmassong]

So uh. It’s 4:17am and I know literally no one cares but I just finished watching Bo Burnham’s new special and like, holy shit. I have some Feelings. And this is my fucking tumblr so unfortunately anyone who follows me can and will be subjected to those Feelings. Apologies in advance. I blame my high school English teacher for this, who I had for freshmen, junior, and senior year, because that cunt made as analyze and pick apart not just books but documentaries, movies, and other pieces of media to such an extreme degree I still blame her for a lot of my academic burnout and inability to really engage with my college courses because what was the fucking point. If I could write the best paper in the class and still not get a full score when my classmates with less well written shit did because I ‘wasn’t reaching my full potential or putting in as much effort as required’ why should I bother. 

Off topic. I’ll put the rest under a cut to be vaguely courteous because this is going to be a lot of semi-organized rambling that I’m putting here mostly so I can stare at it in baffled, disgusted horror at ~2pm tomorrow when I go back and reread it. And then decide not to delete it anyway because hey, I don’t delete anything because I enjoy tormenting myself years down the road.

I grew up with Bo Burnham, yeah? I knew all the lyrics to New Math when I was in middle school and you can bet your ass I understood like, four verses at the time I first started singing it. And I remember the vivid pleasure of going through high school and hating math because I suck at it (ayooo failed out of Calc senior year first semester~ (they weren’t called semesters in hs they were some quarterly thing but I don’t fucking remember the right term)) and the absolute joy realizing how one of those verses were clever was brought me. Like, every time I understood a new verse in New Math it made my entire day so much better. 

And then the summer after my first year of college I, for some fucking reason I cannot fathom now, 20 year old me thought it was a brilliant idea to decide to watch What. with my parents while we ate dinner. I had seen What. before. I knew what the contents entailed. I was apparently 100% down to watch him pretend to jack off on stage while eating taco salad in the living room with both of my parents who were so closed mouthed about sex that I got literally my entire sexual education from fanfiction. 

And then my cat had a seizure literally right before that scene so fate helped me escape that hell for some reason, and yes, Siren was fine after a very scary night.

But like. Still. What the fuck, 20 year old me. Why did you set yourself up for the mortifying experience of watching a comedian mime jacking off while sitting next to your mother. Why. 

So anyway. Bo Burnham was peripherally a part of my life for a very long time. I’ve always really liked him. I wish he had made more vines while vine was still a thing because the ‘is there anything better than pussy’ one still cracks me tf up. 

I saw a post here at some point about how the new special made someone feel like they’d just watched his suicide note. And I didn’t take it seriously, because yeah, Make Happy got kinda serious and stressful there at the end but like? 

Maaaaan am I glad I watched Inside though, despite being vaguely concerned. I totally get where that person was coming from. It does kinda feel like that. At the same time though, I just have this feeling that Inside is going to be important. 

Here’s where I finally get to the actual fucking point of the post.

Collectively, entertainment media is desperately trying right now to figure out how the hell to handle the pandemic. Ignore it? Pretend all media now exists in a universe where the shitstorm of 2020 didn’t exist? Most of the ones that I’ve seen have gone down what I consider the absolute worst route, which is of course terrible fucking writing that kind of? addresses the pandemic and shit that went down, but like, with clunky dialogue and really bad jokes. I’m mostly talking about the Roseanne spinoff/sequel/whatever the fuck it’s considered, of which I watched half an episode of and then silently begged my fiance to let us leave his mother’s house because she was laughing at it and it was genuinely, horrifically painful. This is why I don’t watch tv anymore. 

ANYWAY. He never mentions it. Not once. There are plenty of really relevant things discussed and pointed out and I think one? mention of the actual year 2020 but beyond that. Nothing. And I feel like Inside might be one of the most genuine, visceral, real pieces of media portraying the pandemic that we, as an American society anyway, are going to come away from this all with. At least everyone in my own admittedly piss poor social circles has spent like last ~year and a half doing that social media thing where the more you post about how well you’re doing and great it all is, the more miserable and bad off you really are.

(Yes, that is how I judge my ‘friends’’ relationships on facebook. The more pictures/posts/tagged shit/social media demonstrations of how ~amazing~ and ~in love~ and ~perfect~ everything is, the worse I assume the reality is.)

But Inside strikes as very, very real. And I just feel like 20 30 40 50 years from now, when we’re talking about the 2020 pandemic and how it shaped and shifted and effected and destroyed people and society, it’s going to be a very important piece of media. Because so far, anyway, it’s the first one I’ve seen where you can actually see it all go down. The absolute fucking breakdown so many of us went through. Dealing with worsening mental problems that had previously been getting better, lost progress, ruined plans and dreams and missed opportunities and everything else. 

It’s the first one that strikes as real, I guess. As not manufactured. Not tailored to portray the ‘correct’ message. Not diminishing or exaggerating anything but just... showing. Existing within the reality of the year. And not being apologetic or ashamed about it. 

I’m glad he actually went through with putting it out into the world. That probably took a whole lot to do, and I hope good things get to him for going through with it all. For completing it and giving it to the world. It was visceral and raw to watch and my piss poor attention span that needs 20+ tabs open at all times actually sat there and watched it, in full, all the way through in one go. Without pausing to read a fic, watch something else, check facebook or tumblr, answer a roleplay, or skim through omegle to see if anyone good was online. That’s like, unheard of these days.

I just. I dunno. There’s a lot there to breakdown. A part of me wants to do it, take the time and write the analysis and the breakdowns and pick out what I think the important bits are. But I hate doing that now and I’m sure the desire will be gone come afternoon-morning, along with all these weird feelings about it. 

This has gotten long enough and it’s 4:47 now, so half an hour of word vomiting into a tumblr post is probably too much. So I guess I’ll call it quits and maybe maybe not delete this when I wake up. Night, anyone who actually suffered through reading this mess.

#Maddie talks #Weird thoughts mostly #Don't expect anyone to actually read but hey #that's not what this blog is there for so why not word vomit just for my future self