#got tired of yelling at an empty stage so I packed up my routine and moved on to other cities

[iinmysights-main]

💛🍃🌺🌙If you receive this you make somebody happy. Go and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up, if you want to. If you get it back even better 🌙🌺🍃💛

💖💖💖💖💖💖

Ottie I— thank you so much wtf I’m shook ;w;

Hearing from you makes me happy too so I’m glad I could spread the joy a bit!! <333

#this is so sweet of you omg #seriously thank you so much <33 I always worry I’m bothering people so this means a lot to see :D #nfnfjfng what was my original post tag did I even have one #got tired of yelling at an empty stage so I packed up my routine and moved on to other cities #asks #that’ll do #no I did NOT spend like an hour forty minutes making a weird fuckin meme-ish drawing to represent my reaction only to realize it would— #—look better with buggy eyes and then immediately said ‘well that’s too hard’ and left which is why this took so long sHUT UP #this will suffice for now #I’ve been p stressed out lately so this made me explode in joy ajsjdjfnf #🧡🧡🧡

[fatrainbowmermaidunicorn]

Lost In Japan (Jimin x You)

A/N: this idea just popped in my head while I am taking a bath, and I rushed through my skincare routine just so I can jot this down 😂 anyway, I am going to combined this request with another. This being part one and the other part two. but it can also be read as a oneshot. I had wanted to do a story based on this song ever since I heard it (Lost In Japan by Shawn Mendes) bcs it just reminds me of the feeling you get at night on your holidays when you are just strolling around after a long day of exploring the city and met someone exciting ❤ and I dont know from what country you are anon, and I am not from Japan either, its just based on this song so you can imagine elsewhere ❤ Sorry if this is not what you have in mind

MASTERLIST

A/N : And also, I’m trying a new thing here and you are in no way obligated to do it but if any of you like my stories and want to give some support, why not buy me a coffee? ☕💜

A/N: I cant just keep a good thing to myself, so for those who are looking for a variety and affordable BTS and KPOP merchandise. visit this link right here okay

"Ahhh finally!" Jimin dropped his carry on on the floor and lie down in the middle of the bed, spreading out as wide as he can after taking off his stuffy jacket and mask. Airport arrivals are fun. Fun seeing their fans coming out all the way just to catch a glimpse of them and to welcomed them to their country. But as much as it is fun, it is also damn tiring. Especially when they are mobbed by crazy fans. Jimin is thankful he and his brothers managed to get out from the commotion as fast as they could and arrived safely at the hotel. And he is more thankful that they  have individual rooms now.

Dont get him wrong. Sharing a room with Taehyung or Jungkook or even one of his hyungs are fun. Theres someone he can talk to and do fun vlive clips with, but sometimes he needs some space without anyone breathing down his neck too. Times like this, where he juat want to rest his tired body.

Japan.

A country they are so familiar with already.

Two days of concert here and three days of free days for him and his brothers to roam about before they fly back to Korea for their other schedules.

Jimin cant wait to shop, sightsee and of course eat. He had learn long ago to treat every tour like a vacation in order to make the whole journey less tiring, more fun and less stressed. Just like what the others told him, it doesnt matter as long as they have fun performing, their fans will surely have fun with them too.

But Jimin can feel that something more exciting is going to happen this time.

He can just feel it.

/////

"Y/N, YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE THIS!"

Y/N calmly look up from the table shes wiping. Shes so used to her bestfriend yapping around like crazy. She used to get excited at first, but now, she learns that its better fir her to actually hear the news first. Mika can get super excited about a rock for all she knows.

"What is it that I wont believe Mika?" Y/N laughs. Thank god the cafe she works in has less customer today.

"BTS is coming! For a two days concert!" Mika shrieked.

"Okay... and?" She give her friend a short glimpse and turn back to her task.

"And?! What do you mean and?!" Mika went around and shakes her shoulders.

"Mika, they come here fir a concert every year! Sometimes even twice a year. Its not really a huge news," Y/N rolls her eyes.

"Oh right, I forgot," she giggles.

"You forgot they have a tour here every year? Every year that you become crazy everytime its announced?" Y/N eyed her friend, tapping her foot.

"No. I forgot about the news that you will not believe. The great news is...." she paused for dramatic effect before jumping and yelling, almost breaking Y/N's eardrum. "I got us two VIP tickets and a special fansign invite for both days! Both! Aaaahhhhhh!"

"Oh, thats great Mika! No wonder you are excited!" Y/N's smile grew. Mika has been trying to get tickets every year but she never made it. Online or physically lining up, she never gets the chance to get one. Y/N wonders how hard she work to get the tickets this time.

"Well, arent you?" Mika looks at her weirdly. "I know you are an ARMY too. And arent you excited? You can actually meet them, and converse with them! What if they fall in love with one of us?!" Mika exclaimed, already excited at the thought.

"Well, I am an ARMY," Y/N laughs at her friends cuteness. "But I only like them as a talented idol Mika. I dont even know what to talk to them about. And falling in love?" She giggles. "That only happens in fan fictions my friend. They will most probably already forget about you once the next fan came in view," she shakes her head and continue to clean the table, making Mika pouts.

"Sometimes I hate how practical you are. Cant you just let me dream a little?" She crosses her arm across her chest. "But still, you are coming with me right? Riggght?"

"Well, if you are willing to take me, then of course Mika," Y/N grins. "Of course I'll go with you. Who knows, maybe one of them will really fall in love with me," she giggles at the ridiculous statement.

Or she thought so.

/////

"Lets go people. We can do this!" Namjoon calls out behind the curtains, a few minutes before they are meeting their lucky fans who won the fansign event. After some peptalk and group hugs they went out and start the event.

The crowd is packed and loud, as usual. Girls screaming out their names and waving, trying to get their attention. Each of them did they usual routine, smiling, asking basic questions, answering the questions given to them, making aegyo, handshakes, posing for photos, wearing cute headbands and all sorts of fan service. Jimin is enjoying his time meeting his fan. He loves the attention they gives him and he appreciate all the support they gave to him all these years.

"Next!" The security calls out so the line will move as the fans switched to the next members. Jimin reaches out for the album and booklet in front of him, still looking down at thr album, flipping to the post-it where he should place his signature. But the post-it came empty, its just there as a mark to where he should place his signature. Iy seems the fan has no questions for him, which is a first. Their fans always have multiple questions for them to answer

"No question?" He looks up and immediately stopped blinking. In front of him stood the most beautiful angel he has ever since. Well, shes an angel to him, at least as everyone else seems to be perfectly normal.

"N-no question to ask?" He stuttered and mentally slapping himself. Shit, what is wrong with me. You are Park Jimin, composed yourself!

"Oh," she laughs, the most beautiful sound Jimin has ever heard. "No. Just an autograph will do,"

"Uh.. o-okay," with shaky hands Jimin put down his signature. God, what is wrong with me. I have met so many girls before and I am never like this. Calm down Park Jimin, composed yourself before she thinks you are weird. Come on, say something!

Jimin look around at the laughing fans by around him, talking to to the other members, talking to Taehyung and Jungkook, who is on his right and left side and he realized how quiet and awkward he is with this fan.

"O-oh right. I am Jimin. Whats your name?" Introducing yourself at your own fansign? Are you stupid Park Jimin?

She giggles.

And Jimin's heart skipped a beat. How unusual.

"I know you are Jimin. How can I come here and not know you," she leans forward to a whispering gesture, making Jimin's heart thumped faster at her close proximity. "ARMYs will kill me if I dont," she giggles more and leans back to her normal position in front of him. "And my name is Y/N,"

Jimin smile. How bold. How interesting. And what a name. Beautiful. Just like her.

"And Y/N.. how come you have no questions to ask? Arent ARMYs always curious?" He taps her post it to show the blank paper and Y/N shakes her head.

"No. Not really," she smiles. "Nothing that I want to know,"

"Just nothing for me or for everyone?" Jimin feels the need to ask. He felt like he needs to know if Y/N is just not interested in him or she really doesnt have a question for everyone.

"Well, its not just you. I dont have a question for everyone," Y/N's smile got bigger. Jimin raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Well, because everything you are allowed to tell me, it will be published in the news, or articles or something anyway. And if I asked you a real question, you wont be allowed to answer truthfully anyway. Isnt that right?" she laughs. "So no. No questions,"

Jimin was stunt. Never has anyone ever throw that cold hard truth to his face. Its true. Whatever they are showing and potraying in public, the character that they show, all of it is something that they want their fans to see. There are still parts of them that their fans doesnt know. A part of them, rhat is the real them that they didnt show the world. Mouth agape, Jimin looks at Y/N's face, not knowing what else to say.

His gut js right. Jimin is right, fron the moment he looks up to her face, he knew theres definitely something special about her.

"Well, whats your real question?" Jimin finally find his voice and the bravery he needed.

"When you are allowed to answer it, then I'll ask about it," she giggles, just in time for the security to shout next, and Y/N waves a hand and move aside before Jimin could say anything else. Y/N move to Taehyung, leaving Jimin speechless, and fascinated.

Y/N... hmmm.. his feelings is right then. Japan is going to be interesting this time around.

/////

Jimin knew he is going to see Y/N again at the concert. Everyone who attends the fanmeet has a VIP ticket, which is a particularly small section that is made special for them right in front of the stage. He is sure if he look hard enough, he will see her. Shes too beautiful, and too special to him now for Jimin not to notice.

And sure enough, the moment their went on stage, Jimin saw her face, smiling brightly with her Army bomb in hand, giggling with her friend. A surge or energy runs through him. Jimin suddenly feels like he needs to do the very best tonight, no, extra best tonight. He needs to show her that he is Jimin, and he is up here, looking at her  and apprently, only at her.

Jimin never kept her eyes off her, which is a little hard to do considering he needs to sing and dance and converse with his fans, well, other fans too. And its a stranger feeling for him, when a pang of jealousy hits him hard when he saw Y/N waving and taking photos of Taehyung, jumping and singing along to the other members' part.

What the hell is wrong with me? Shes a fan! She didnt pay for the tickets only to see you alone Jimin.

Without realizing, Jimin suddenly feek the need to futher make his existabce known. Known to Y/N. And keeping his eyes only on her, he starts to show off his dancing skills, making extra sexy moves and flirty gestures, which of course, make the packed stadium roared with cheers but reveiving weird looks from the other members.

It doesnt matter.

The crowd. The music. The members.

What matters is that if this will make Y/N looks at him, it was all worth it.

At least he hope she understand the sign hes trying to tell her.

/////

"Woah, what is wrong with Chim today?" Mika stares at the satge, mouth dropped opened. "I mean, I know he is sexy and all, but thats like being possesed with a sexy spirit or something," she points to Jimin who was grinding on the stage floor. "I dont remember the cheography being like that,"

Y/N shrugs.

"Maybe its a concert only special performance," Y/N justified.

"How are you so calm? He is even looking at you while doing all that. Oh my god, he really is!" Mika jumped, waving her Army bomb with excitement.

"Not at me Mika. My direction. Our direction. He cant even see the crowd with all those blinding lights. And look around you, theres thousand of people here," she laughs. "You think he wouls pick me out from the crowd?"

"Hey, you never know. You personally met him at the fansign. Maybe he remembers you," Mika giggles at how practical her friend. Girl, dream a little!

"Hello," Y/N rolls her eyes. "Everybody here went to the fansign Mika. This is the VIP section!"

"Oh my god. I forgot! Maybe you are right. But hey, its not wrong to imagine!" Mika laughs, Y/N joining her.

"Stop imagining useless things and just enjoy the rest of the concert!" Y/N yells through the noise, laughing. "Besides, its Park Jimin, being sexy and flirty on stage is his thing. I dont think thats anything extra anyway,"

"Okay, okay, you are right. Lets just enjoy this!" Mika grab her shoulders and starts bouncing, waving her Army bomb around. Y/N joins in, singinf along and recording videons of her and Mika, totally not realizing how hard Jimin is trying to wink her way.

/////

"I did everything I can, and she still dont even acknowledge me!" Jimin huffed.

"Are you serious? Shes a fan and you still cant get her to even look at you? Wow Chim, you really have no jams," Namjoon laughs.

"Hyung, its not funny! What do I do?" Jimin grumbled.

"Okay, okay. Lets think. The whole two days. She didnt look at you? At all?" Namjoon inquired, trying to help the younger man.

"Well, she does look at me..," Jimin ponders.

"Okay. Then whats the problem? You did talk to her at the fansign yesterday right? And today? Did you guys hit it off? Did you two share any interest? Maybe you are just not her type. What did you two talked about? Tell me everything from A to Z," Namjoon pulls a chair and sits in front of him, giving Jimin his full attention.

"T-talk?"

"Yeah. Talk. Like what we are doing right now. Hi I'm Jimin, I like you, can I have your number so I can take you out sometime, that kind of thing," Namjoon eyed him carefully.

"W-well... I didnt really talk to her hyung.." Jimin trailed off.

"What do you mean? You get her name. What else did you ask her? You met her twice at a fan sign Chim," Namjoon eyed him curiously.

"Well, at the first meef, I asked her for her name, so I can sign her album. And she explained to me why she dont asks any questiona, and then I blanked out and before I know it, it was already Taehyung's turn," Jimin pouted. "The time is too short for each person!"

"Well, you never complain before!" Namjoon roll her eyes. "Them what about today?"

"T-today?" Jimin stutter nervously as the memory of today's fansign entered his mind.

He was in no mood at all today After the concert on the first day, Jimin was frustrated. Y/N didnt notice him. After the concert she went back like everyone else. She went out so fast he didnt even get the chance to ask security or his managers to call her out. Jimin knew that he wont evenr see her again. Having that in his mind ruin his whole mood.

He went by fan by fan, signing their album and giving small smiles when required. When asked, he only says hes a bit tired and his fans will express their worry and tell him to get some rest. Never would have thought that he would hear the voice again as a a flatten box of their offical light stick and the photocarda were slide in front of him.

"You already sign all my albums and posters yesterday, so this is all I have left for you to sign," Jimin look up to the smiling face of Y/N and he thought hes dreaming.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah," she smile. "Wow, you remembered me!"

"O-of course I do!" Jimin tries to calm himself. "I didnt think you would come again, and both fansigns? Wow,"

"Well," she giggles. "I guess I am your biggest fan. All of you were great last night,"

"Yeah? But you went off so fast!" Jimin pouts and cursed himself for saying that when Y/N gives him a weird look. Now he sounds like a stalker.

"So fast? How did you know?" Y/N asked him curiously. Did Jimin really saw her in the crowd?

"Uh well.. call it intituition," he laughs awkwardly and Y/N just nodded.

"Well..." Y/N looks around, feeling awkward as she waits for the fan in front of Taehyung to move and lets a breath if relief when she does. "Okay, I'll go now,"

"Wait!" Jimin panics. This might be his last chance to have any sort if way to contact her. "Do-you-think-you-can-give-me-"

"And oh, good luck for tonight," Y/N suddenly say at the same time as his word jumble and patted his hand. The moment her hand touched his, eventhough its just a pat and for a second, Jimin blanked out, all his senses gone, heart pumping so rapidly it almost burst out. Bedore he can calm himself down and find words again, the security already shouted next and Y/N quicy waved and move on to Taehyung.

"Both times? Seriously? You blanked out both times??" Namjoon is shrieking out now. "God, you are hopeless!"

"Y-yeah..." Jimin look at his hyung, scared. "Its not my fault she touched my hand hyung!" Jimin try to defend himself.

"Touch Chim. Not even hold. And you have done this with countless fans! Girl fans!" Namjoon is at the brink of giving up.

"But hyunggg," Jimin wailed. "Thise firls are not Y/N! She's so pretty and smart, and not startruck and everything she said to Tae and Kookie are funny and smart then I'm the one who kinda got starstruck..."

"Oh my god, you are a bigger idiot than I thought," Namjoon hissed and slap Jimin's forehead, making him rubbed it  "Okay, fine. But if you barely even talked to her, why are you saying she didnt acknowledge you? I mean... even if she does, which I think she should with your stupidity, she didnt even have a chance to say it, right?"

"But hyungggg, even if I didnt directly say it, its obvious I am flirting with her. And only her!" Jimin answered as if his effort is the most obvious thing in the world.

"Flirt? How?" Namjoon asked, curious on what Jimin meant by flirting if they never even have a proper conversation.

"Didnt you see my extra sexy moves on stage? My winks, my flying kisses, my hip thrusts, how many times I run my hand through my hair, and seductively too if I might add, during these two concert?" Jimin smile proudly.

"Wait, are you saying your little cabaret show this past two nights is you flirting with her?" Namjoon rubs his chin.

"Duhh, of course hyung. What else? I am not a man slut like Kookie who do it for fun hyung,"

"Idiot!" Namjoon slap his head hard this time.  "That is what you call flirting? We thought you were possesed by some strip club ghost or something!"

"Ow hyungg, what the hell??" Jimin rubbed his forehead.

"How the fuck is Y/N supposed to know you are flirting with her when you do that in front of a packed stadium you dimwit? A stadium full of screaming girls too! And you always do those shit, yeah, its a little extra this time, but she will just think you are doing your typical flirting with the crowd thing," Namjoon hissed

"W-what?" Jimin panics. "Do you really think she thinks like that? That I am justsome big flirt to my fans?"

"Duhhh," Namjoon roll his eyes.

"But its all for her!" Jimin wailed.

"She didnt know that dumbass. You should have shown your interest during the fanmeet. Both freaking times!" Namjoon sighed and stands up.

"Wait, where are you going hyung? We are not done yet!" Jimin stands up and follow his hyung like a puppy.

"I am not entertaining this dumb shit. Im going,"

"But what am I going to do?!" Jimin wailed for help.

"Nothing. The concert is over Chim. Just pray that you will see her again," Namjoon shrugs before he leaves the room. "You have three days before we fly back home. Make it count,"

/////

Their free day was filled with sight seeing, shopping and eating. Jimin had fun, yes, but he cant help but feeling down whenever he thought about his lost chance of getting to know Y/N more. He has never been this interested in a woman before, nor has he even felt this kind of amazing chemistry towards a girl. Y/N is special, Jimin know she is. And although he doesnt know for sure if she really is the one for him, but he is sure that he atleast wants to get to know her better. And he wants to see where they will go from there.

"Cheer up hyung! Its only a girl. You will forget her soon. I am sure of it," Jungkook smile and roughly hug his shoulder, dragging him into the anime store. "Atleast your amazing favorite maknae is still here with you,"

"Yeah. Annoying maknae," he laughs. "I am in no mood to look at animes abd robots Kook, and also in no mood to hear you and Tae arguing about whos the better hero or whatever," he looks around the street. "I am going to head there, the coffee shop. Meet me there okay?"

Jungkook shrugs and pulls Taehyung to the store instead as Jimin make his way to the coffeeshop. Securing his mask and cap, he enters and nothing surprised him more than seeing the perfect girl smiling at a customer behind the cashier counter.

Y/N.

/////

"Okay.. if thats Y/N.. why are the three of us hiding behind this huge flower pot like some criminal?" Jungkook asks Jimin in confusion. His hyung rans in panics and drags both him and Taehyung to the coffee shop. And with panting breath, he nervously points towards a girl and only one word comes out from his mouth. "Y/N" and they have been hiding behind a huge flower pot in the coffee shop since then.

"Well, because I dont want her to see us. See me. What do I say?" Jimin wioes his sweaty forehead.

"Thats it? Thats the reason you ran all the way, drag me and Tae-hyung here, and hides behind this pot for 40 minutes now?!" Jungkook looks at his hyung, not believing his reason. "Thats it, I'm going in and introducing us and getting you her number!"

"Wait. What?? No!" Jimin drags Jungkook back behind the pot.

"Why? Isbt that what you want hyung? Her number? You have been moping since last night!"

"Y-yeah.. but how can I just ask her. Thats Y/N. Y/N! What if she say no? O-or she laughs at me? Or thinks I'm weird?" Jimin is freaking out and even he hinself doesnt know why he is like this.

"Well, we dont know if we dont try Chim. Let me and Kookie go and ask for you," Taehyung speaks up and stands up, revealing himself. Jimin panics and pulls him back behind the pot.

"What the hell! No! Sit Tae. Let me just think of something okay? I need to impress her somehow. So she would never ever say no," Jimin rubs her chin and the three sits behind the pot for a while longer, all in silence before Jimin suddenly shouted. "Okay, I got it! She will say yes to be my girlfriend after this! I am sure of it!"

/////

"From Park Jimin? The Korean idol Park Jimin?" Y/N eyed the flower delivery man curiously as he smile and nods. "Is this a prank? Tell me, who put you up to this? Its a girl right?"

"Uh no.. its really Park Jimin. He came to the shop. With Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. I know its them because I am a fan and also," he taps the note on the flower, "Park Jimin put his name there,"

"So right now... you are saying.. that the world famous idol, Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung, just walk into your store, in broad daylight, and ordered flowers.. for me?" She points to herself.

"Uh.. yeah. Thats about right," the deliveryman nods again and smile. Y/N lets out a loud sarcastic laugh.

"Okay, good one. I am pretty sure this is a prank now," she received the flowers and sniff it. "Atleast I get flowers, prank or not. Thanks,"

The delivery guy shrugs and leaves, but not before looking at Y/N as if shes crazy.

"It must be Mika. Shes the only one who thinks Jimin is looking at me at the concert," Y/N shrugs and continue her work, the flowers forgotten.

Or so she thought.

Throughout the day, many more weird deliveries were made. More flowers, big, expensive ones too, cupcakes, balloons, choclates, chocolates bouquets, and even a puppy, which Y/N immediately asked to be sent back. At this rate she knows it couldnt be Mika. Is it really Jimin?

But why?

How does he knows where she works?

Even if he did finds out, did he really remember her?

And even if he did remember, why is he sending her all this stuff?

Y/N was confused for the whole day, and shes also embarassed when the customers and even her supervisor keeps complimenting how sweet her boyfriend is. Truth is, shes nor even sure if its really Jimin whos sending her all this stuff.

The gifts continue for the next three days, and Y/N just accept and places it all at the store room, even fivinf out the food to her colleagues and loyal customers. After a long hard shift, its finally time to close up. And deciding to leave everything she receives today at the shop, she cleans up and cloaed up the shop. While locking the door suddenly someone tapped her back.

"A delivery for Miss Y/N..."

"Seriously?!" With a frustrated and tired sighed she turns around. "Its almost 12 am at- J-Jimin?"

Y/N couldnt ever imagine thats its really Park Jimin standing in front of her, holding a huge bouquet of flowers. His face is covered with a mask, yes, but theres no doubt that its him.

"Well.. yeah. Are you expecting someone else?" Jimin cocks his head. Even he is nor sure where he gets his sudden confidence.

"Well... no. But I didnt expect it to be you either. Is it safe for you to roam around Japan like this? Are you lost?" Y/N furrowed her brows. How can he be lost? Where is manager?

"No. I am not lost. Unless you count loss of words everytime I see you," he smile.

"Huh?"

"Uh.. no, no, nothing. Uh.. you dont sound excited to be receiving all the gifts I sent you?" Jimin suddenly remembered hows frustrated she sound earlier when she thought he ia the delivery man.

"Well, to be honest. Not really. I mean.. I am not even sure it its really from you. And even though it is, I am still curious as to why? I mean... you dont really know me... and we are not really friends. Right?" Y/N looks at him.

Jimin is speechless. Doesnt girls like that kind of stuff? Especially from someone like him? But as he look at Y/N who is standing in front of him, face full of confusion, he realizes, Y/N is not like normal girls. thats why he felt attracted to her. Look at her right now, standing in front of him bur isnt starstruck at all.

"Uh.. to be honest, I kinda feel a chemistry between us when we first met at the first fansign..." Jimin takes a deep breath. Courage dont leave me now. "And.. I uh.. would like to talk more with you. To get to know you,"

"Okay..m so you decide to stalk me?" Y/n take a step back, a little scared. Jimin raised his hands up defensively.

"No, no! Its not like that. I didnt stalk you to find out where you work. I accidentally found out where you work 3 days ago, so I thought I could send you gifts, as a way to break the ice-"

"Wait, so you had known where I work for three days, and instead of coming in and say hi, like a normal person, you decide to flaunt your money and buy me stuff?" Y/N is trying to understabd what is the man trying to do.

"Well.. uh.. it sounds bad when you put it like that...but-but I thought you knew about my interest in you!" Jimin tries to safe whatever dignity he has left as Y/N eyes him carefully. "I have been flirting with you for the two whole concert days!"

"Flirting? When??" Y/n questioned him. "You barely even talk to me during the fansign Jimin-ssi," Y/N reminds him.

"D-dont you see me malong eye contact with you on stage? All those dance moves? Those extra stuff I did?"

"Huh?" Y/N looks straight at him. "Are you telling me that is you flirting?" Y/N didnt know if she should laugh or be pissed right now. "Thats the way to show me that you want to talk to me?"

"Y-yes,"

"Jimin... If you want to talk to me you can just ask. To be honest, I find you interesting to talk to too," Y/N smile.

"Really?!"

"Yeah... but after this weird gift giving thing... I am not sure..."

"What? No! I am not weird! Uh actually," Jimin panics. Is Y/N really going to just shut him away now? He has to do something. The thing that he planned to do when he came here. "Actually, I'm flying back to Korea tomorrow but before I leave... I just uh... wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend," he quickly pulls out a box with a white gold diamond bracelet inside. "And give you this,"

Y/N was silenced for a moment and Jimin hope that thats a good sign. He knows its rash, but hes leaving to Korea tomorrow and he needs a way to stay in touch with her. To just... make her his.

"Are you seriously kidding me right now?" Was Y/N's answer after the silenced.

"N-no?"

Y/N scoff.

"You never even introduce yourself properly to me. Or get to know me. Or even talk to me for the matter! How do you know you even really like me? If its only a blind atttaction, only because you like how I look, then I dont want any of it! Yes, I am your fan and I kmow mostly everything about you, but I dont want to know you as BTS' Park Jimin, I want to know you as Park Jimin... do you get it? And giving me ridiculous expensive gifts for three days is flirting and a way to talk to me?? And please know that hip thrusting and swiping your hair back on stage doesnt count either. What are you trying to do? Do you think I am that kind of girl Jimin?" Y/N look softly at him.

"I want a guy to ask me out, to ask me if I have plans and take his time to know me. I dont need your money or your fame Jimin. If you really like me, you would know thats the kind of girl I am. I am leaving, I am sorry, I have to declined. Have a safe flight back to Korea," Y/N bows and walks away, leaving Jimin alone.

Jimin was silenced by her unexpected outburst. He really didnt think ahe would say all this, nor did he think about how stupid his plans are. Taehyung and Jungkook has warned him, even suggested to just greet her and ask for her number, but noooo, he has to feel like he needs to impress her with expensive gifts. Now look what happen.Everything she says just make Jimin realized that she is excatly what he wants, who he needs in a woman. In a life partner. He wants to get to know her, all of her, but it seems like hes too late now.

/////

"Hyung? You okay?" Jungkook sat beside him on the bed. Its been a few days after the tour, and Jimin has been sad and locking himself in his rooms ever since.

"Yeah.. I guess?" Jimin answered lifelessly.

"You dont look okay Chim. You look... lost?" Taehyung sat at the other side of him.

"I am lost Tae. I have never been this lost in my entire life. I think I lost myself in Japan, I acted the way I would never have, and because of it, I lost my love,"

"Well.. if you lost something in Japan... I guess you have to go and get it back. Simple Chim," Taehyung grins and pat his back, hoping his best friend will understand what he meant.

/////

What happened last week is still a blur to Y/N. Did Park Jimin really sent her gifts for three days straight? The Park Jimin? Worldwide idol Park Jimin? And did he really showed up to her coffee shop and tell her he lijes ber, and wanted her to be his girlfriend? And did she rejected him, just like that?

Everything is like a dream to her. She is not even sure if it really happened it shes just imagining it all. But the wilted flowers and uneaten chocolate bars proves that all of it is too real.

She cant lie to herself. Her heart did do a little flip at the sight of Jimin that night. Yes, shes practical, but theres still a part of her that wants a fairy tale ending for herself too. She almost say yes, her heart is beating out from her chest. She cant believe its happening, Park Jimin likes her... but then her practical side takes over. Reminding her that they barely knew each other, what if Jimin ends up not liking her? And what she told Jimin is true, she wants someone who will ask her out, who will take his time to learn about her, just as mich as she will learn about him.

Maybe Jimin is only a drean afterall.

As she walks along the sakura covered park, Y/N sighed. Shes at her happy place. Her beautiful home, but she has never felt so lost.

/////

"Thank god I found you here," the voice behind her pants. Y/N immediately turns around only to see Park Jimin panting, holding his knees. Is she hallucinating in broad daylight now?

"Jimin? Is that really you?" She looks at the figure closely. Jimin looks up after catching his breath

"H-hi. I'm Park Jimin, and I came all the way from Korea just to find you, and someone told me that you are at a sakira park, but theres a lot of sakura park during during spring in Japan and I went to like 30 of them and then I got lost all over Japan, but I dont care, because I can handle being lost in Japan, but I cant handle losing myself again and worse, losing a chance to know you," he smile at her stunt reaction. "Y/N.. I got lost all over Japan, just so I can ask you..," Jimin wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans as Y/N smile at his stuttering form.

"Yes, Park Jimin?" Y/N flashed him a wide smile, easing his mind and making all his doubts dissappear, a surge of confidence suddenly surfacing in him.

"Do you... do you perhaps have any plans tonight? Because I want to take you out. I want to spend the whole night getting to know you, all about you," He took a step forward and bravely hold her waist, grinning widely.

"And why would you want to do that when you just met me three times Park Jimin?" Y/N hide her smile any longer.

"Because I.. well, because honestly Y/N..." he tuxks a stray hair behind her ears and look straight into her eyes, "I cant get you out of my mind,"

#bts #bangtan boys #bangtan scenarios #bangtan #BTS jimin #park jimin #bts park jimin #jimin #jimin scenario #jimin fluff #jimin fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop scenario #kpop merch #bts merch

[brotheralyosha]

Do not reblog please.

So I was reading that article on millenial burnout while I was supposed to be doing job applications and I just started crying for the first time in a really long time.

This winter break was really hard. I knew that I was worn down from school, and I have a habit of just sort of collapsing in exhaustion at the end of every semester, but the last two weeks or so have been really bad. Like, I’ve basically not been functional, at all, pretty much the entire break. I’m usually all about going places with my family and seeing things and trying to make the most of my breaks but I have just have not been able to go anywhere, or do anything, or even like talk to anyone. I missed a bunch of opportunities to spend time with friends and family because I just...couldn’t. (This is also why I haven’t been on tumblr for a while, because I’ve literally been too burnt out to use this site. I was thinking about writing something that I was starting of the new year by being more mindful of my social media or something like that, but lol no.)  I knew that I was worn down from school based on how difficult everything was last semester, like what I was talking about earlier with worrying about my grades, but it’s only now that I realized that I have been completely running on empty for almost the entire semester, with the only thing keeping me going at all being habit and routine. I’ve been so frustrated with myself for being more on top of my school work, not being more on top of my job applications, not being more on top of networking and professional development, and god I didn’t even know the half of it. Doing literally anything that I have to do feels like the most unbelievably difficult thing imaginable right now and all I want to do is just...not. Just not do things, at all.

The kicker is that as I was going through my computer today to declutter a bit and I found a bunch of my old writing that I had forgotten about (remember that time I wrote the first draft of an entire 70k word novel? I sure didn’t!) and found a journal piece I wrote all the way back in senior year of college, just writing about what was going on and the time and like...it’s the same fucking thing. All the stuff that I’m talking about here is the exact same thing that I was writing about experiencing back in senior year. The same fucking thing.

And I think that’s what got me about that article. Because it’s the only piece that I’ve seen that really developed the idea that, especially among millenials and gen z, burnout isn’t so much a thing that you have to avoid or overcome but a constant state of being. I literally cannot remember a time when I wasn’t either anxious and hard-working or struggling and exhausted. I know that there were times when I felt that way as a little kid, but what was it like actually live that way? I have no idea anymore.

And you know if I were to just say the kinds of things that I’ve done in college and work and law school it would objectively sound pretty cool - really cool, even. But the truth is that none of those things have brought any real sense of satisfaction, just a temporary relief from anxiety, because none of these things have resulted in any kind of personal, professional, or financial stability, there’s just the next part of the hustle for increasingly scarce opportunity as I set my sights lower and lower for the kind of the work that I want to do and the kind of life that I want to lead. Its an endless, 24/7 to-list that goes on and on and on and god I’m so, so tired. Like, no wonder it’s been so hard for me to make myself do the things I need to do, because I know that the next stage of my life post-law school is going to be even more of the same. More endless work, more trying to prove myself, more trying to move up the ranks so that I can have a little bit more job security, a little bit more control over what I do, a little bit more leverage for whatever come next when I inevitably pack up and make yet another move to a different city for another job. The main thing motivating me right now is the fear of graduating without a job because, uh, holy shit. But I think I’ve hit the point where even me yelling at myself about all the terrible things that are going to happen if I don’t get my shit together is just not cutting it anymore.

Anyway I need to sleep because I’m hopping on a cross-county flight for a job interview tomorrow. But yeah. That’s where I’m at. I’m tired. I’m just so, so tired.

#personal #long post

[laguanrodgers]

While Waiting

(A Short Story by LaGuan R Rodgers)

I never liked when my stepfather would drive me to school. It wasn’t because I was embarrassed by his car; the ’87 Pontiac got us where we needed to be and then some. It was more so how I found him to be weak. He let my mom rule him, and somehow I thought his frayed machismo might find my skin like a plotting ointment. I found myself studying the sky for planes from that backseat window, most of all trying to guess exactly where a given hunk of traveling metal and its passengers were off to. I’m pretty sure my guesses were always confined to the states, as the geography of thinking beyond and what places fit where would get lost just around the time Sean’s car would halt and I’d shuffle to homeroom.

“Can I get you anything else, maestro?” my waiter asks. For the past twenty minutes or so, I’ve been slowly sipping a black coffee and picking at this dry blueberry muffin, waiting for Gianna to arrive. I’m not buying anything else. She is lucky I agreed to come to this damn diner. The parking is so so and some of our most memorable arguments happened in the booths here. Whoever made the menu goes skimp on the omelet and there’s something I don’t trust about their maple syrup like a station with gas prices lower than nearby spots.

“Thanks, buddy, but no I’m ok,” I reply. The waiter has pillows under his eyes, not the glaring hangover or mid-term up all night weights, but somewhat noticeable, especially by another night owl. He has yet to declare his name, and I haven’t cared to ask. I study his veiny hands, and though his short fingernails are without dirt, I suspect he still lets a family member cut his hair. And who the hell is maestro, anyway? I put my head down to tear at the muffin and shift my cup, yet he stays in the same spot. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to the inevitable. The stage where I have to get in his tired face and let him know I’m not with that sugary stuff.

“Their uniforms do nothing for me,” he says.

“I’m sorry, what?” I ask.

“The Trail Blazers’ uniforms,” he answers, pointing up to the flat screen positioned in the corner. A replay of last night’s game versus Oklahoma City is playing with the volume off.

“Red and black work together, but ugh, they can do better with those bending lines that take up most of the jersey. It’s all too…too…too…I don’t know, but once I think of something better, I should reach out to their people.”

Gianna told me the owner of Swan Street is originally from Portland, and the dude has yet to come to grips he is more than 2,600 miles from home. The pennants and postcards on the wall scream of everything Oregon and his Left Coast Is the Best Coast pie is a hit here in WNY. She made me try it the night we first hooked up. I didn’t like it, but I said I did.  

“I’m a fashion student at Buff State,” the waiter points out.

Oh, wow, that’s what’s up,” is my reply. I give him a look as if to ask why isn’t he serving other people, yet it’s mid-morning and empty, and the rush from the Larkin Building across the street won’t come about until lunch hour.

“Where do you go?”

“Oh, I’m not in school, right now.”

“Guy, I feel you. It’s not for everybody. When you think about it, they’re just teaching us how to make someone else money. Fashion is the closest thing to independence if you ask me. But I hear there’s a big need for the trades nowadays because all of the dinosaurs our grandparents used to call in the Yellow Pages are retiring, and few young folks are stepping into those jobs, you know.”

“Good point,” I say with a shrug. I forgot to put on my Timex, so I’m starting to stare at the spot where the tan line on my wrist will eventually be. Doing odd landscaping gigs two or three times a week every summer will do that. Gianna has been sending me e-mails of jobs here and there. I’ve filled out a few applications online, yet there’s something discouraging about completing questionnaires where you can’t tell the truth. Where the hell is she? For the past six months, we’ve been doing the distance thing after she moved to Albany for some job in a big library. I can’t remember all the details, but she’s happy and spends less time knitting uneven sweaters for her yorkie and sending me recipes off Pinterest she knows I’ll never make on my own. Today is supposed to be the day we decide.

“Coming!” the waiter whose name is Jackson shouts. I now know this little useless tidbit because a male voice from the kitchen yelled his name while I was staring out the window. Three tulips stand at attention from the flower bed that needs just as much attention as the blueberry muffin ingredients. She must think I have all day.

The entrance door swings open. A toddler boy wearing overalls wobbles over the threshold. His mouth already has stains of juice, and he wants no assistance from his parents who give off this que sera, sera vibe. The man and woman scan the room, and locate me in their tripod scope of discovery, only to flash grins at me before muttering some baby gibberish to the little one, as he has already rung the front counter bell enough to awaken something in the basement of a day failing to officially start.

Hey, fine folks, how are you?” Jackson asks the newest patrons, sort of doing some half-hearted skip to the front. “As you can see we are jam packed, but I’m sure we can find something cozy and comfortable for ya.” Everybody laughs, except the tike and I.

“Oh no…no…no, Brady,” the mother says, smiling once she realizes her little person is running toward my booth. She is too late. He grabs the second menu from the table, and waves it wildly like my grandmother sometimes does with those usher appointed fans during stuffy marathon church services.

“You eat,” is what I make out from the boy. “Him eat, right?”

“I’m so sorry,” the mother says. “He’s a traveler.”

I look at the father who just shakes his head, as if there is more he wishes he could tell me over a Cuban and some bourbon.  

By now, the mother comes over to my booth and ushers away her little explorer by the arm.  

“Him eat, right?” continues the boy. “Him do it…”

“Yes, honey,” says his mom. “Go to Daddy.”

“This is why I hate going too many places in a day,” the father says in a tone somewhere between madness and unbridled surrender.

“It’s fine,” the mother says. “It really is ok.”

“Well, let’s get you guys seated,” Jackson breaks in, mustering up a manufactured smile he’s most likely perfected in the back kitchen or voguing outside one of his textile classes.

I look at the clock on the wall behind the front counter, and spread some butter on the muffin.

  When Gianna moved into her upstairs apartment on Claremont Ave. with her two girlfriends, I helped them. Being her boyfriend, I knew such heavier things would fall to me. We found a way to defy trigonometry, stubbornly bending half painted corners with used furniture and appliances. She is the organized type of XX and that day the Eisenhower in her began to bloom. She elected to drive the U-Haul with Jamie and Allison, as I was content to drive my own car and meet them at the new place. My commander of a woman backed the truck on to the lawn, got out and handed her troupe instructions and goals written on loose-leaf. I put the paper in my back pocket, and just grabbed labeled boxes. The first few trips, I placed them where they needed to be, the carefully taped cardboard containing shampoo, tampons, and razors found their home in the bathroom. Maybe it was because no one else’s boyfriends showed up until I was a sweat stained version of former self, or the way Gianna stood in the downstairs doorway with frustration when her full proof battle maps left no margin for things falling apart or how the summer rain would slap our efforts then back pedal into some distant pocket on the other side of town before I could adequately curse it, but I found myself unashamedly putting boxes in rooms where they didn’t belong. We later ate pizza and drank bottled water on the floor, a collegiate picnic of sorts. Both boyfriends whose names I dismissed looked as if they struggled to please any woman, and their talk of IPAs and invites to join a softball league only made my decision to leave more justifiable. “Oh, before you go, lover, can you help me hang these?” Gianna asked me, as she opened a box marked CLOCKS in black sharpie. It wasn’t her handwriting, and as her and I went room to room hanging ticking numbers with power drill and the dull need to be alone, the thought of that stayed long after I left.

 “Hey, Ian,” Gianna says. She leans over and kisses both of my cheeks before sitting down.

“When did you come in? I didn’t even see you.”

“I’m a love ninja,” she declares. “I move in silence.”

“Well, Ms. Storm Shadow, are you having your usual? There’s a new waiter working, and he is full of life.”

“Be nice, lover.”

“What makes you think I’m not.”

“I know you.”

“Do you, really?”

“I’d like to think I know if the man I love is being an asshole or not.”

I still hear the ongoing jabber of my toddler friend from the other side of the diner, and once Jackson discovers I am no longer solo, he darts towards the action.

“You didn’t tell me you were waiting on a lovely guest, my guy,” Jackson shrieks. “Exciting.”

“Good morning,” Gianna says. “Is it still morning? No…wait…it’s technically morning? Sorry my brain is in every county of the state today.”

“No worries, I understand,” Jackson replies. “It’s finals time, and I’m the same way. I’m living the dream, though. Stress and all.”

“If it isn’t too much trouble, I think I’ll try something new today.”

“You have to get our new red velvet pancakes,” our waiter urges. “To die for!”

“Hmmm, should I?” She calls my name, but I’m staring at little Brady who is biting his straw and too curious to be held at bay by whatever routine conversation his parents may be conducting.

“Ian?”

‘What’s up, GiGi?” I snap back onstage, knowing the second time she calls me is the important one of the two. I shrug and simply say it’s spring.

“I am a horrible server,” Jackson says. “I didn’t start by asking you what you wanted to drink. I’m so caught up in the vibe of you two chirping birds.” Gianna orders the pancakes and asks for orange juice to come when the food arrives.

“Are we going to do this?” she asks.

“I’m prepared either way,” I say.

“That’s not the right answer. It’s been three months.”

“But how are you feeling?” I ask, picking out blueberries I can find in the torn pieces of muffin.

“Ok, I guess,” she says. “I still get sick, and the new clothes fit now.”

I want to bring up something about how I’ve applied to the latest jobs she’s sent me, but I close my eyes and try to take it in every molecule of air in the building.

“What time do you have to be back tonight?” I ask.

“I don’t. I already called in sick for tomorrow.”

“Go easy, you’re going to need those days later down the road.”

“So you’re saying you do want this, right?”

“I want to keep you happy and occupied.”

I turn at the waist and find the tulips outside the window. I wish I could pick all three and the curtain would close.

“And here you go,” Jackson declares with a smile, waiting for immediate approval. “I present delicious pancakes, your juice and our in-house maple syrup.”

“It looks amazing,” Gianna says.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” It’s as if Jackson wishes he were the stack of crimson flapjacks with a melting cube of butter atop.

“We’ve got all the bases covered for now,” she says. With fork and knife in hand, the woman I met at a farmer’s market four summers ago, puts a piece of pancake to my mouth. I submit to her honor, and chew slowly so I can really give her the truth of it all.

“What do you think?”

“They’re actually really good,” I admit.

She takes a bite and her eyes become big with unexpected glee.

“Boy, you better get one more taste because I can’t promise I’ll save anything else.”

“Go ahead,” I say. “It’s all you. You need it for strength. After all…you know…”

“You act like it’s some sort of plague, Ian.”

“No, I don’t. It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“A lot.”

“No shit, man,” she says, now with a tear bubbling by the corner of her eye nearest the window.

“We can make it work.”

“Do you really want it to?”

“I’m here.”

“Have you even thought of names?”

“Of course, I have.” Really I haven’t, and now would be a fantastic time for Jackson to save the scene.

“Have you told your mom?” she asks, still eating.

“Yeah, she knows.”

“What are her thoughts?”

“You know my mom, GiGi.”

“I don’t want to play games.”

“I see no ball or joystick.”

“Answer a question for once in your life,” she shouts. By now, the tears have bullied the breakwall and run southward to a place I have little to no access to. It’s one of those classic embarrassing moments when I sense all eyes are upon us, yet I have no hard evidence to support it other than the intuition that comes from past battlefields still ripe with blood. The Larkin Building traffic infiltrates what was an empty place of business.

“My mother told me to be a man,” I say.

Gianna stares at me for awhile before she finishes the plate of pancakes, only leaving streaks of red mingled with the sappy sauce that is the Oregonian’s special recipe. Without as much time to devote to us any longer, our waiter gives me the check and says he hopes to see us soon. I tell him thank you and good luck with his exams before I make my way to the front counter where there is now a female waitress at the register.

“It seems you made a friend,” Brady’s mom says. “He hasn’t stopped talking about the man who eats by himself.” The family of three prepares to leave the diner, a precautionary measure on the part of the husband and father who doesn’t want to cause a scene I suspect.

“Maybe I’ll see you in this joint sometime soon, little man,” I say to Brady. “Be good for your mommy and daddy.”

I foot the bill and tip, and wait for Gianna to come from the bathroom. I know she will want to take a walk and possibly talk more on what is a pleasant afternoon in early May. Once again, I’m looking out the window where I see Brady and his parents walking to their car. The father has little patience, and if it wasn’t for his wife, who knows where that car would go. She is the reason her child gets away with picking one of the tulips I’ve been staring at all morning. That little boy doesn’t have to take unnecessary long walks. If anything, I am sure he fixates on passing airplanes.  

[bangtan-everything]

Aftercare

This was requested by one of my friends soooooooooooooo ;D

Summary: Taking care of your Boyfriend after a concert

Genre: Fluff

no warnings 

Reader/Rapmonster

              This was absolute insanity.  You stood amongst the dozens of other staff eagerly waiting for the boys to come off the stage.  You heard their arrival more than saw them; the cheers and applause of the staff after their outstanding performance rivaled that of all the fans still in the stadium.  When you finally saw the men, you couldn’t help but smile when you saw the huge smiles plastered to each of their sweaty, red faces.  Your eyes finally found Namjoon across the room, he was busy talking to the members and the managers, but you could see the fatigue fighting through the adrenaline from the concert.  You hoped that maybe now that the final concert of the tour was over, the group and the staff would finally get the rest they deserved.  Your mind traveled to all the times you had woken up during the night either to Namjoon leaving for an early practice, or to find him still awake and working on something new.  You weren’t even staff, but you still felt the exhaustion that came with being on tour.  

              You realized you had zoned out and quickly looked around the room.  The performers were still debriefing with the managers, but it looked like it was coming to an end.  Many of the stylists and other staff had packed their things and were taking them out of the small backstage.  You caught one and asked if you could do anything to help.  They pointed you to a few more boxes that needed to be moved out. You nodded and grabbed them before following the stylist out to their van.  When everything was moved from the room to the vans you walked back inside to see the boys were finally done with their meeting and were grabbing their things. Namjoon finally saw you.

              “Y/N!”  His face spread into a smile, but you could see the way his body struggled to walk over to you.  You smiled at him and quickly closed the space between you as he wrapped his arms tightly around you.  “How did you like the concert, babe?”  his grip on you loosened so he could look at you.

              You slipped your arm around his waist, trying to subtly tell him to rest on you, as you pointed to his bag.  “It was one of the best I’ve seen!  You guys were amazing out there!”  you said before leaning up to kiss his cheek.  “Now, let’s go home and eat and get some rest.”  

              Namjoon grabbed his bag and looked at you. “Sounds perfect.”  He leaned over to kiss your forehead before the two of you walked out to your car.  You drove through the near empty streets to your apartment.

              “Do you want to take a shower while I heat up something from the fridge?”  He simply hummed in agreement, and you glanced over to see he was almost asleep in his seat.  His hand drifted towards yours on the gear shift.  He intertwined his fingers with yours, before pulling your hand against his chest.

              You drove as smoothly as you could to not disturb him.  When you finally arrived at your apartment, you poked him with the hand he was still holding.

              “Babe.  Babe, we’re here.”  You poked him more, trying to rouse him.  He cracked an eye open.  It glanced over you before his hand shot out and poked you in the side.  You yelled and your body jumped away from his long arms, pressing you against your door.  You glared at him.  “Poke me again, and you will be sleeping alone tonight, punk.”  He smirked and rolled his eyes before leaning away from you to open his door.  You turned off the car and got out.  You both walked into the elevator in your building.  Once you had pressed your floor and moved to stand back with Namjoon, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his side.

              “I’m really glad you got to come tonight.” His deep voice resonated in the metal room.

              You laid your head against his chest.  “I am really glad too.”  He moved his head to look at you.  You tilted your head up to look at him.  His eyes looked so soft in that moment.  It almost looked like he wasn’t seeing you, but trying to show you all his love with just his eyes.  It was working.  He began leaning towards you just as the elevator chimed and you heard speaking on the other side.  He closed his eyes before leaning back to regain his posture and three women entered the now cramped elevator.  They smiled and waved at you, and you did the same.  They continued gently speaking amongst themselves until the you finally reached your floor.  You heaved Namjoon off the wall of the elevator and guided him down the hall to your door.  Once inside, Namjoon finally pulled you into a kiss.  You both smiled into it.  It was sweet and gentle as he cradled your face in his hands.  His lips were warm and soft as always, but still tasted like the salt from his sweat.  He pulled away before resting his forehead against yours.

              “I am so tired.”  He hummed.

              “I know.  Go take a shower.  I will heat up the chicken in the fridge.”

              He hummed again before nudging your cheek with his nose and kissing you again.  With that, he pulled away, smiled adoringly at you, grabbed his bag and walked to your bathroom.  You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him walk away.

              Once you heard the door close, you finally began moving forward to get food ready.  You had actually cooked for the whole group yesterday, but the managers said they should just eat at the hotel they were staying at so they could rest more.  So tonight, you and Namjoon had surplus of food to eat.  You warmed the chicken first, and then slowly began pulling out the side dishes.  You had just finished heating up two of the dishes when Namjoon’s warm arms wrapped around your waist.

              “This is a feast, babe.  Did you make all of this?”  You turned around to see him dressed in a fresh t-shirt and some shorts. His damp hair hung in front of his eyes and his skin was still flushed from the shower.

              “Yea, I cooked for you and the guys for yesterday, but the managers said you should just go back to the hotel to rest.  So, I figured we could eat it now.”  You felt him stiffen behind you.

              “They didn’t tell us this was an option.  I know all of the guys would have loved to come over and eat.”  His voice almost sounded hurt.

              “They are just trying to look out for you.  I would rather you guys rest well than come eat my food.”  You laughed at your cute boyfriend.  You started putting food on plates before sitting down to finally eat after your long day.

              “Do you want me to call the others and they can come eat with us?”  He spoke in between mouthfuls of food.

              “Do you really want to eat with them, or are you just saying that for me?”

              “I don’t know.”

              “How about tomorrow they can come over for lunch or something and eat what is left from tonight?  I think you just need to sleep soon.”

              Namjoon hummed before replying.  “Only if you promise to sleep in bed with me tonight.”

              You laughed before conceding. “Of course.”

              You spent the rest of the time eating and quietly talking about the concert.  When you both had all you could eat, the pots of food looked like you had barely made a dent.

              “Looks like we will have to call the boys!”  You laughed.

              “How long did it take you to make all of this?” Namjoon asked before he opened the fridge to put some of the food away when he saw the other tubs of food you had prepared.  “Y/N, what is all of this?”  He turned to you with wide eyes.

              “I wanted to make sure you all had enough to eat! And I wanted to make sure there was something everyone would like.”

              You heard Namjoon laugh before he pulled you into his embrace.  “You are actually the cutest, sweets, most selfless person I had ever met.”

              “Oh, stop it, we all know that is you.”

              “I think that is just because you’re such a good influence on me.”

              “You are so cheesy!  Let’s just put this away so we can go to sleep.  I am exhausted.”  Namjoon simply kissed your cheek before he continued putting things away.

              Once everything was put away, you both moved to the bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for bed.  Namjoon left first, but you stayed to wash your makeup off. You had just finished drying off your face from cleansing when you saw Namjoon’s head peer around the corner. You eyed him suspiciously but continued your routine.  Next thing you know, a shirt comes flying at you and hits you in the side of the face. You twist around to glare at him, but he has already disappeared.  You look down at the shirt and see that it is one of his.  You roll your eyes before putting the shirt down to finish.  Before you could even see him, something else comes flying at you and again hits you in the side of the face.  It’s a pair of your sleep shorts.

              “NAMJOON! Stop throwing things at me!”  You laugh as you try to sound intimidating.  Right after you yelled, he comes waltzing into the bathroom like he was some angel from heaven.

              “I was just trying to give you your clothes so you could join me in bed sooner.”  He flashed you a smile.  You saw right through it.

              You laughed at him before shaking your head. “Go get in bed, you’re exhausted. I’ll be right there.”

              He walked around behind you, wrapped his arms around your waist and put his head on your shoulder.  You could see him looking at you in the mirror.  “If I go and lay down to wait for you, I will fall right asleep.  But I don’t want to go to sleep without you next to me.”

              “Ahhh, you’re so cheesy!  I will be right there, I promise.  Just let me change clothes.”  He nodded his head on your shoulder and nudged your neck with his nose before kissing your cheek.  He closed the bathroom door behind him.

              You laughed again before pulling off your clothes and getting into your comfy pajamas.  Namjoon’s shirt was so comically large it went halfway down your thighs and covered your sleeping shorts completely.  You grabbed your clothes off the floor and carried them with you into your bedroom.  You tossed them into the hamper before turning to face Namjoon who was looking at you expectantly.  You laughed at his cute expression and how he was nearly falling asleep sitting up. You quickly turned off the lights as he moved under the covers and held them up for you.  You crawled under, and laid down on your side facing Namjoon.  

              “I love you so much.”  He mumbled as the exhaustion of the day finally took him away.

              “I love you too, Joonie.”  You said, even though you think he might already be asleep. Instead, his arm wrapped around you and pulled you closed.  He pecked your lips before resting his forehead against your shoulder and his breathing evened out.  You laughed and brushed his hair back off his forehead so that it wasn’t tickling your nose. Within seconds, his body heat, all the food in your tummy, and the weight of the day drug you into sleep as well.

#bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts rapmonster #rap monster scenarios #namjoon scenarios #namjoon fluff #admin A

[blufury]

Hatchlings: Chapter 1

Aidey looked at the eggs in front of her. They looked beautiful. Beside her, Dehious, her mate, was nodding, tired from all his restless days of looking after the eggs. She smiled, and laid her mate down on their bed, and whispered 'sleep' into her mate's ear. Her mate visibly relaxed, and soon, he was sleeping comfortably. Aidey smiled at the sight of her mate sleeping, and continued smiling when she turned her head and looked at the eggs. Never in a million years did ever think that she'd become a mother. But here she was, now the mother of four eggs. Smiling, Aidey turned the lights off and laid down beside her mate, and went to sleep.

########

Aidey was flying. She had promised her friends that she would meet them this evening. It was their normal routine of fridays. Aidey and her friends finished their work as fast as they could, checked out, and always met and hung out together. Today was no exception. As usual, Aidey had finished her work fast, and was now on her way to meet her friends. Soon, she arrived at the promised destination, and landed. Apparently she was the first one to arrive. A fewminutes later, a mass of violet scales landed, and greeted her. 'Hey, Aidey.'

Aidey replied back. 'Hey, Hasin.'

'Ilina not here yet?' Hasin asked.

'Not yet.' replied Aidey. So they waited. About 10 minutes later, wing beats were heard. And another mass of red scales landed. 'Sorry I'm late.' she said, panting. 'But work finished late.'

'It's ok, Ilina.' said Aidey, and pulled out her phone and looked at the clock. 'You're not that late anyways.'

'So, where are we going today?' asked Hasin, changing the subject.

'Dunno.' Aidey replied. 'I want to drink. Do you guys feel like drinking?'

'Hell, yeah!' Ilina replied, and Hasin agreed as well. So the trio started towards the bar they usually went. Soon, they reached the bar, and each ordered a glass of beer. The drinks were soon out, and they started found a seat, and started to talk.

'So, how was your week?' started Aidey, after taking a sip from her drink.

'Not bad.' Replied Ilina, also taking a sip from her drink. 'Nothing new.' said Hasin, beside her. Aidey nodded, and took another sip, and started to talk about her week. Her friends listened to her, and added their comments here and there.

########

'What next?' asked Aidey, after getting pleasantly drunk and walking out of the bar.

'Let's go to a club! Party and dance!' Ilina parctically yelled, also a bit drunk as well. Hasin nodded in approval, and the three headed towards the club they usually went. They waited in line, chatting happily, and when it was their turn, stepped into the club.

The club was as always, excited and high-spirited. They got to a table, sat down, put down their belongings, chatted a bit more, then Aidey, the most drunk of them all, stood up and went up to the stage. The other dragons gave her room, and she joined them happily.

'Are you ready!' yelled the DJ, while spinning the turntable. The dragons on the stage yelled and the music once again began. Aidey danced to the beat, swinging her head wildly and side taking steps when she felt like it. Looking at her drunk form, her friends laughed and took pictures of her wildly dancing, but she didn't care. Right now, there was only music and her. This was the time when she got rid of all the stress she got from her work. And damn, did she love music. Not only the electronic music that the DJ played right now, but also other kinds of music. Music was her love, her life.

Eventually her friends joined her, and they all danced to the beat, enjoying themselves. After dancing for a few hours, they got worn out and sitted themselves in front of the bar. 'What can I get you?' asked the bartender, looking at them.

'What do you suggest?' Aidey asked, smiling at him. He looked a bit cute. Not her style, but still, he looked cute.

'I suggest our newest drink, rainbow cocktail.' replied the bartender, shaking a drink.

'Then I guess I'll have that.' Aidey said, and looked over to her friends. 'What about you guys? Don't you guys want a drink?'

'Do you have any whisky?' asked Hasin, to which the bartender nodded. 'Good. I'll have some of that. Ilina said that she'll have the same drink as Aidey did, and the bartender smiled and told them to wait a second. While the three females waited, Aidey turned towards her friends.

'Wasn't he kind of cute?' she asked.

'Yeah. He was kind of.' Hasin said, nodding. Ilina nodded in approval as well.

'But he wasn't exactly my type.' Aidey said.

'Why so?' Ilina asked, leaning in.

'Looked way too young for me. By that,I mean... umm... less mature.' she replied. Then, their drinks came out. 'Here you go, ladies! Two rainbow cocktails and one glass of whisky.' the bartender said, giving out 3 glasses of alcohol. They thanked him, and sipped on their drinks. The cocktail was sweet and delicious. It felt refreshing to Aidey's dry throat. Her friends drank their drinks, tipped the bartender, and got up first. Aidey drank her drink slower than her friends, but also finished it, got up and tipped the bartender. The trio danced to the beat a bit more, and when they were tired, paid and walked out of the club.

'So, we went to the bar, and the club. What now?' asked Ilina, slurring a bit.

'I'm going to drink a bit more.' Aidey said. 'I have a strange craving for alcohol today. You guys in?'

The other two thought for a bit, then also agreed. So they went to a nearby store, and bought some more alcohol as well as some snacks. Then they went out to the park, and settled down on some tables and chairs in the corner. Aidey pulled out her phone, and played some music on it to match her mood. Then she opened a bottle of beer, drank some, opened a pack of snacks, and ate some. The other two did the same, and they all sat in the silence, simply listening to music and enjoying one another's company. Eventually, Aidey started to sway a bit from the alcohol she consumed, but continued to drink more. Today was the end of the week! So it was time to enjoy herself! And she intended to enjoy as much as she could.

After a few bottles of empty beer and empty snackbags, Aidey and her friends got up. They trashed the empty bottles and snack bags, and got up. Aidey wobbled a bit, drunk. She said her departures to her friends, who were also quite drunk as well, and started to fly towards her home. She swayed to the wind, drunk as hell. It was a mystery how she didn't lose her mind yet. Anyways, she flew and flew, to her home, but for some reason, she couldn't find her home.

'That's strange...' she thought. 'My home used to be here...' Aidey landed, and looked around. Suddenly, she didn't recognize where she was. All her surroundings looked strange and unfamiliar. She looked around for directions, for a sign, but there was none. Aidey started to get worried. Maybe she was even more drunk than she thought she was. She began to frantically look around. She took off into the sky, to see if she could see any place she recognized. There was none.

After quite some time of searching, which led her nowhere, Aidey landed, and she began to ask passing dragons if they knew where she was. But she smelled of alcohol, and that made all the passing dragons ignore her.

Until one finally talked to her.

'You're drunk, aren't you?' he asked, looking at Aidey. Aidey didn't reply, but instead looked at the ground. The dragon sighed, and looked at her. 'Where do you live? I'll take you to there.'

Aidey looked up in surprise. She didn't this much care from a passing by dragon. She expressed her gratitude, and told him where she lived without a second thought. The stranger took her to her home, and she thanked him again, opened the door, and finally entered her home.

Finally, she was home. 'Never, never drink until you don't know where you're at.' she thought as she just crashed into her bed and slept straight away.

via Blogger http://ift.tt/2ApvaaA

#Book #Dragon #Fantasy #Hatchlings (Novel) #Life #Love #Novel #Romance #Writings

[erinelezabeth920]

It’s Not About the Bathrooms

A few months ago, back in maybe February I went to a Seattle concert with my boyfriend, cousin and good friend from graduate school. Before the show we had stopped in at a YMCA fundraiser for a city community center, a small building in a growing urban neighborhood with garden plots that also houses the youth outdoor program I work for during summers. The theme was Cascade Royale (cunningly named after the title of the building, Cascade People’s Center), a play on James Bond. So, that rainy Seattle night, I put on a long dress, my boyfriend had on a suit, my cousin and friend also were dressed up. On the way to the fundraiser we went out for Ethiopian food in the Central District, squished into a the corner small cafe with injera and honey wine, pretending it was a midwinter psuedo-adult sort of prom. It was fun, one of those chiller mid-20s city nights with close friends, tinged with the edge of a new adult heavy tiredness, but still electrifying the memories of a freedom of youth. After the event, featuring champagne, popcorn, mock gambling and a photo booth in the best sort of low budget non-profit way possible, we drove up highway 99 to the Nectar Lounge, a concert venue in the quirky north Seattle neighborhood of Fremont, in time to catch a show my favorite local funk band. It was fun to walk into the packed concert venue in our formal attire, grabbing a drink just as the band began to play. They are always fantastic, a twelve piece band with crazy energy enough to break the Seattle freeze and get people dancing. I was feeling pretty tired from working and graduate school, and feeling kind of overwhelmed by the amount of people on the dance floor, so I sat off to the side at one of the tables, listening. Eventually, given the beer and the water I was drinking to counteract, I really had to pee. I left my boyfriend at the table with my drink, got up and walked to the back of the venue, pushing my way through bodies toward the restrooms. Quick glance showed the men’s line empty and the woman’s line 10+ or more. I sighed, an all too common sight. My eyes began to water. See I have this weird bladder condition where it’s actually really hard for me to hold in my pee once I have to go. It’s kind of like uncontrollable muscular spasms, and I have to sit down until they pass. It’s always happened since I was little, and all of my best friends know that when my eyes start to water that I need to get to a bathroom pretty immediately. An ex-boyfriend even used to call them “pee-mergencies”.  So essentially the long line wasn’t going to work. I looked over at the men’s room, empty of a line, and felt an almost physically sick wave of shame wash over me coupled with bodily fear for myself as a woman. I’ve done it before, used the “other” bathroom, and it’s always hard every time. But hey, this is Seattle right? Land of of the progressive hippies. So I steeled myself up. I hardened my eyes, stood tall in my long dress, left my place in the woman’s line and walked what I hoped was confidently toward the empty men’s room door. A few woman clapped from the line behind me. I felt stronger, that I would be successful. Suddenly, a huge figure moved in front of me, with a black t-shirt that said “BOUNCER”. He crossed his arms. My body deflated. My eyes filled with tears, real ones, not induced this time by my bladder. My confidence was in a million pieces on the dirty, sticky floor. 

”Sorry,” he said. “No women allowed in here.” I want to say that my eyes blazed fire. I was to say that I stood up tall and told him that by denying the full occupancy rights to bathrooms, you are robbing me of the power of my body. You are denying the essential right to females because the assumption of an equal public bathroom space is gender equality, because it’s actually not. And if a woman happens to takes longer to fix her makeup in the mirror, it’s because society has taught her that if her image isn’t impeccable she is not worth it in the eyes of other. That her face paint is a mask to hide the fact that she has been taught for generations that she is not good enough, and her self-worth is based on the opinion of men. And, speaking of weakness, it is not actually a fact of woman “weakness” that we have to pee more often, BECAUSE DID YOU KNOW THAT WOMEN’S BLADDERS ARE ACTUALLY SMALLER THAN MEN’S TO MAKE ROOM FOR THE UTERUS? So fuck you bouncer, and every other man who has ever dug at his girlfriend/ wife for having to pee on the road trip, calling her a “typical woman.” TYPICAL DAMN RIGHT, so pull the fucking car over if you even dream of wanting kids to fulfill a continuation of your egocentric needs. Or realistically, maybe we’ll just drive the cars in the first place.

But I didn’t. I maybe managed a little burn side eye glace, but I hung my head and walked back slowly to the line of woman who parted sympathetically like the red sea to let me back into their loving, broken tribe. 

“It’s okay,” one of them patted me on the shoulder. “It was such a good try. I thought for sure you would get in.” “This place always has that problem,” another said. “It’s ridiculous. Just make more stalls.” I nodded and tried to smile. My confidence was still being ground at my feet by heels and boots, mixed with gross beer stains and dirt.  A few minutes later, my cousin walked up to the restrooms. She is the icon of my life, younger than me by a few years but raised on the West Coast with a strong independent, progressive mindset and headstrong voice that cuts through anything. She took one look at the long women’s line and strode to the men’s door with no hesitation. The bouncer stepped in front of her, arms crossed. I saw her eyes flash. I couldn’t help but smile slightly, knowing what was coming.

“But, WHY?” I heard her demand, standing tall waving her hand toward the women’s line. The bouncer leaned down and said something I couldn’t heard. “UNCOMFORTABLE?!” she almost yelled. “The men feel UNCOMFORTABLE?! What about all of us?!” He looked around shiftily but didn’t waver. She said a few more things I didn’t hear, and then strode back to the women’s line, eyes on fire.  “APPARENTLY,” she said to me and others in line with an exaggerated look back at the bouncer. “The men feel uncomfortable with women in their bathroom. Well excuse us, let the woman just stand aside then for these poor men! It’s not like we’ve been made to feel uncomfortable around men for the last 200 years. God forbid we take away your precious comfort.” The other women in the line nodded some smiling, others not, eyes hard.

I finally managed to pee, and walked back to the table, shaken and hurt. My boyfriend asked what was wrong. I told him a little of what had happened. He shook his head sympathetically, angrily, but I couldn’t snap out of my daze, even when the funk band played their fire cover of “Deborah” by Beck and he grabbed my hand as we all got up to dance.  On the drive home my cousin, slightly beer buzzed and irate, ranted about the injustice of the bathroom incident from the back seat. “Do even they know what they’re doing? Do they know that by putting a bouncer in front of the men’s room they’re taking staff away from the dance floor, a place where women routinely get groped and violated? They’re removing protection from the women’s bodies to help the men feel more comfortable in theirs. Oh, I’M SORRY that the women have to get their asses grabbed by drunk jerks on the regular just because you don’t want people to see your tiny dicks”

I stared out the window listening silently as she talked, watching the rainy streets go by. My insides were still burning, a confused mix of anger and shame. My other friend chimed in, and my wonderful boyfriend drove and sympathized, agreeing with everything and apologizing for the hierarchical social systems created by his gender, which unfortunately he so often feels he has to do. He finally dropped her and my friend off at their apartments, yelling goodnight before heading home silently in the rain. 

Apparently though, we were not the only one who had problems. Fast forward to spring two months ago, when I had finally gotten over my beef with the Nectar Lounge and bought my boyfriend surprise tickets to a bluegrass full cover show of Paul Simon’s “Graceland.” (Can you say ‘things white people like’ for 500, Alex?) My cousin joined us too. We arrived at the venue before she did, so my boyfriend sent her a photo of the shiny, newly added bathroom on the second floor, specifically a gender neutral bathroom. I had seen it on Facebook earlier in the week and felt a tiny hint of satisfaction, or validation. She sent back a smiley face text, adding she’d be there soon. And just like that, it’s fixed. Right? 

Wrong. Later that night we were standing off to the edge of the stage listening to the band play their original tunes, before launching into the second set of “Graceland”. I was standing near the side next to my boyfriend listening to the tunes when I felt unmistakably someone behind me firmly tap the left side of my butt with their hand. I stepped aside quickly, almost jumped really as an older guy reached down around me to grab his coat lying at the bottom of the stage. I stood there, my face burning and my insides churning until the end of the song. What I wanted to do was shrug it off, just move on and keep dancing, enjoying my night. But I had just finished a graduate level class on social inequity and standing up to microaggressions. I could only picture my fire eyed cousin, my professor’s reaction if I didn’t say anything. The song ended, a pause before the next one. It was now or never. I felt actually physically sick, my stomach jumping, my breath short (and still do writing this now). I tapped my boyfriend and said I’d be right back. I took a huge breath and turned around, walking a few steps to the man standing next to his friend. “Excuse me,” I said, looking him in the eye. “If you need someone to move, next time tap their shoulder, not their ass.”

He looked at me and stuttered, saying he didn’t mean anything. “I’m just letting you know is all,” I smiled faintly and walked away.  “What was that about?” my boyfriend asked. I explained briefly, then said I’d tell him more later. I felt shaky, breathing fast but proud of myself. I brushed it off. I stood up taller. I even danced a little swing with my boyfriend, practicing some tiny haphazard spins in the crowd, elated and comfortable to be sharing a bodily space with a person I cared for and trusted. Later when he slipped away to grab a drink, I sidled over to center stage where my cousin was standing, dancing like a maniac. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that man approach him, say something and pointed over to me. My stomach dropped. My boyfriend edged his way through the crowd toward us, drinks in hand.  “What was that about?” I asked warily. “Nothing,” he said. “I was just looking for you, because you weren’t there. He came over, pointed you out and said, ‘give her my best.’“ Hm. Intentions seemed good enough. I shrugged, feeling relieved but still wary. 

Later in the evening I was standing in line at the bar when he came up to me. “Hey,” he said. “I wanted to apologize again. I really meant no disrespect, and I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” I told him I appreciated it. I really did. I told him I didn’t think he meant anything, but I just wanted to point it out. He thanked me. Then he said it. “Can I offer you some feedback too?”

My face must have dropped. I know my stomach did, mostly in disbelief. “Sure,” I said lightly, pulling myself together.  “Sometimes when couples dance together in these places it can be pretty rude for other people around them. It gets into their space, you know?”

My optimism faded back into a defeated haze. I was stunned. But I was just too tired at that point to fight anymore. I had done what I set out to do, and so I let it go. I nodded emptily. “Thank you for the feedback” I said in a hollow voice. I nodded again. And I walked away. And that was that .  But I was shaken. I looked around at all the people dancing, wondering how many of the women... thinking of the countless number of times throughout my life a man has come up behind me, imposed himself and his dick right up against my ass, slid his hands on my waist then slowly lower down, all in the pretense of motherfucking “dancing”. And not only dancing, but space efficient dancing when I have nowhere else to go. And how that’s okay. How it’s somehow even accepted. And, conversely how dancing face to face with someone I feel comfortable with, moving my feet, taking up my own space of happiness in the world is my own form of defense against that. I’m not sure if the men in my life have ever understood this, but dancing to me is one of the only times when I can feel completely free and safe in my own body. Can let my female spirit, so often guarded and on edge because of the misogyny of our world manifested into physical intimidation on women’s bodies, finally transcend this. I can finally, for once, just let myself be in full confidence and spirit, free. So, you tapping my ass, because somehow, somewhere society taught you that is okay does not ever, EVER give you the right to criticize me for dancing. For expressing joy in movement for myself in my body, trying to overcome the feelings of violation I’ve known my whole life, to finally be whole in myself and my expressions with another, from a world that is constantly telling me I cannot safely interact with a man without hurting myself in the process. Do not ever take away my joy of trying to feel finally safe and comfortable in my body so you can repair your pride. So please, for every other man out there. I’m not saying you’re a bad person. I’m not saying he was. In fact I’m sure he considered himself a very good person. So here’s the thing: You don’t need a comeback. You don’t need to get on “equal playing field” to feel validated in your criticism, to keep your fragile ego powerfully in check, securing the idea that you are, in fact, still a progressive, compassionate man who holds an important place in society. You can nod silently, contemplating the women in your life who might experience this on a daily basis, and thank me for my words. You can swallow your pride and let your ego burn for the sake of a better world for all of us. Or, in the words of one of my good friends, “just accept the feedback.” Because my own fragile clutches at body security in the misogynistic systems of this patriarchal fucking society have robbed me of my ability to enjoy sit comfortable and happy at concerts in public spaces, letting the music wash through my bones like I was born to, free in spirit from societal chains. And all this because instead I have to be on my guard against the violation of my own body and those of my female friends. 

Meanwhile, the bouncers stand silent guard at the men’s room, just so they’re not “uncomfortable.”

Get it now? So dear men. Dear, dear well intentioned, liberal men who could not possible consider themselves sexist because the women’s suffrage occurred in 1920. Besides, you live in vegan friendly Seattle where minimum wage is 15$ and organic kale grows like manna in neighborhood gardens, PLUS you use re-usable shopping bags and voted for Hillary Clinton. Please understand that equality is not in your ego, but in the feelings and validation of the women in your life who you care about so much. Dear men whom we love and share our lives with. Please consider the outcome of your actions, the intense feelings of shame writhing in our stomachs, and the bodily fear we experience every day at the hands of the opposite gender. Please consider that our biological needs are as valid as yours, and that our bodies are not a storefront mannequin to be handled at will. That we are living, breathing humans capable of intense power, fire in our bellies, and that your ego doesn’t have a place in our struggle for basic bodily equality in this broken world.

And dear Nectar Lounge. Yes you. I haven’t forgotten you. You liberal Seattle establishment promoting funk concerts, dancing hippies with fancy tech jobs and inclusivity. You in the hip white solstice party neighborhood, with the rainbow sticker on your door who streamed the Baker’s Dozen Phish show live the other week. Listen to me. Check your fucking self because if you are putting bouncers in front of the men’s bathroom instead of on the dance floor to protect the rights of women’s bodies, you are no better than the people in the white house passing standards against transgender bathroom rights, so go ahead and burn that rainbow sticker at the door. It’s not about the bathrooms. The was it wasn’t about the water fountains for the Civil Rights Movement, the way it isn’t about the individuals who feel shamed from their own gender fluid bodies, from middle schools to locker rooms to our own public venues in supposedly one of the most progressive cities in the country. These are not issues I can claim identity or ownership over, but only a small extremely privileged, insignificant sliver of ally. I understand this. But at the deepest, most basic level is the robbing of a divine human body the right of expression in our public spaces through fear of discomfort. Fear of change, of exiling those in power, cutting them down to the ground to finally view another with compassion in our basic bodies and human rights. We’ve created bonds and chains when all we were born to do was dance.  So in a way, it is about the bathrooms after all.  That night at the bluegrass show in June, after my conversation with that man at the bar, I walked over the the bathrooms. The men’s line was empty, the door unguarded. I stopped. I looked around. I un-clenched my fists and held my middle fingers down to the sticky floor that once held my broken confidence. I held them to the general concert venue, lines, patriarchy and ego and excuses, hurtling through our the flashing eyed women of this world, one painful spin at a time. I walked in, I peed and I left. 

#seattle #feminism #equality #social justice #music