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tsubasabasahazard · 1 year

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Pretending tumblr is therapy

[tw: anxiety, depression, don’t read unless you wanna hear abt my boring life]

okay so I’m having an anxiety attack right now, but I don’t have a therapist or friends to talk to (abt this particular issue) so I’m gonna unload here, specially cause I need to get better asap and go back to studying.

you see, I don’t know if I told you but I started an internship two months ago, on a factory that makes bike parts, as a translator, japanese translator, so yeah I work translating documents and translating convo for some people between japanese and brazilians. at first I was excited and afraid, but more excited, after all I loved the opportunity to learn more while also making some money. two months passed.

after the first month and first salary I wasn’t that happy already, and I was already thinking that 6months would be more than enough (they could hire me for at least 2years and 6months is the minimum) and was already counting the days. after talking to a few classmates who also worked as interns (not translation) in factories they said my company was one of the worsts, the pay was really low and the work was too much. and I was still like, okay I can take it, let’s just get through 6months and then I’m out.

but anxiety got waaay worse on the second month, I woke up and went to sleep extremely anxious, sleep was already bad and it got worse, I always felt tired af even after sleeping for at least 6hours, btw my schedule was: waking up at 6-6h30, go get the bus at 8h45 (i take my time having breakfast thnx to adhd) get to work at 9h15, have 1h break from 11h30 to 12h30, then 15min break from 15h30 to 15h45, get out at 16h45, get to college at 17h30, get to class at 18h, get home by 22h45 or 21h45, go to sleep around midnight or later. I even got sick in the second week. oh well, back to second month.

I was already overwhelmed with internship, college and living alone with my friend, when my dad decided to stop by for two days, he lives in another town, whenever he comes here I get even more anxious, it’s a family thing. he went to see my sisters in another state, came back a week later after fighting with them and only told me 6hrs before he got here and I had to pick him up at the airport at 1am. two days more of pure anxiety.

the month was ending and I have tests and seminars now that december started. I haven’t been able to study for a single day even on weekends since college started bcs I’m always too tired from work. I also started having classes on some saturdays, on other staurdays i had work bcs we needed to pay for the days we would stay home thanx to soccer (this is brazil after all 8-D). so yeah, sundays turned to pure hell, free days in the middle of the week only made it all worse to my biological fucked up clock.

I stayed home on the last day of november after taking my dad to his boat home. then I overslept the next day and said I had some personal business to take care. and damn I like this day. I could sleep a bit more, I got up and did some studying, then I went to college early and studied there too, until I met my friends for dinner. then we had class. oh yeah, class, specially this one, Japanese II, I started hating it in the first month of internship. it used to be my favorite class. I couldn’t stand it on this day, even tho my spirits were just fine. and this is why I’m writing this today.

I have a test in 8 days, japanese II, it’s usually a very long test and I really need to study kanji cause I suck at it. I sat down today (after hours of procrastinating) and after writing down half of the kanji i need to study, I started having anxiety, very hard anxiety, I started shaking and my hands and feet got cold, at every stroke or every read I would hate it more, I hated every second of studying for half an hour.

Now let me resume how I feel abt studying japanese. I love it (or loved). I started when I was 14 and loved it ever since, I got depression and after trying to get back to college I realized the only thing that could keep me there would be to study smth I Loved. and damn was I right. I simply LOVED my first two semesters, was super excited for the 3rd one, no matter how hard it got, it was FUN.

I hate it now. I feel like it’s killing me. I feel depression creeping in closer every day. and god that is one of the scariest feelings I’ve ever felt. no my depression is not cured or being treated. I don’t have the money, even with the internship. but it was under control just fine for two semesters. now it’s loose and looking for me like a hungry wolf.

So anyway, I tried talking to people about this. but you see, I’m the happy go duck type of person. nobody takes me fucking serious unless I start crying and shaking and shit. it’s always been like this. but there’s another problem. I don’t cry that easily. not for me. I’m a total crybaby when it comes to fiction, gurl I start crying just from listening to love like you thinking abt TGCF. but crying in front of people? that’s a weakness I was not allowed to have, and I locked it up deep inside. imo it’s almost a talent at this point, how much I can hold back tears no matter how bad I feel, no matter how scared I am of my own thoughts of hurting myself.

It hit me yesterday that no one is going to be on my side, when my oldest bff told me I was being a crybaby for wanting to quit the internship, “money is money”, then I explained to her how bad it was and she just said “hmnm”. my bff who lives with me? said she’ll beat me up if I leave it, we need the money, life has been to hard to give up on this money. my dad? he said “do what you think best, we will do smth abt it (money)” (in a tone of “we have no money, you should just hang in there”).

and well, I guess I’ve been too privileged my whole life, people just don’t think I’m having a hard time no matter how much I say I’m having a hard time, it’s like everyone looks at me and goes “it’s hard for you bcs you’ve never known true hardship”. and I know that’s bullshit, I know hardship is not something to be compared. I also know I’m privileged as fuck! so what is the truth? who’s right? what am I supposed to do? like SHINee says, TELL ME WHAT TO DO.

you know what’s worst? this internship is the first time my course got an opportunity to work with industries, it could open doors to all my peers and my cute juniors, also the lead teacher said “you have a huge responsibility in your back, don’t fuck it up”. so yeah, no pressure lol.

if you read this until here you can comment smth or just move on, I don’t really care. you can’t say stuff like “ask for help” tho, I already did several times during my years of depression, no one could do shit for me, I know what the people around me can do for me, none of it will help me right now.

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shuadotcom · 4 years

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The Smell of Spring | KTH

✿ Pairing: Taehyung x Female!Reader ✿ Genre: Fluff, slice of life, established relationship ✿ Word Count: 1.6k ✿ Rating: G ✿ Warnings: None ✿ Summary: Taehyung loves procrastinating almost as much as he loves you. ✿ A/N: This is an older work of mine that I’ve edited and re-written. A simple little fluffy piece.

"Noona, I don't want to do this!" Taehyung whined, throwing his hands in the air.

You looked up from your laptop at your boyfriend who was frowning so hard you were sure his mouth would become stuck that way. "Taehyung, you don't even have much left to do. You only have like half a page left of questions."

Taehyung dropped his head onto the dining room table and made a high pitched groaning noise. "But it's half a page too much! Besides, it's so nice outside and we're stuck inside doing work!" He gestured to the open window closest to you. You absolutely loved spring and all of the smells it brought with it. Grass that was finally growing again, flowers that were blooming, the fresh air that was transitioning from cold to warm. You made sure to always leave your windows open during the day so the smells could waft into the apartment.

"Well, I only have a page left of my paper to type so when we're both finished, we can go to the park and get ice cream."

"Or...we could go now." He beamed at you and batted his eyelashes.

"Your cutesy act won't work today, Tae." The brunette boy pouted and let out a sigh. He looked down at the computer screen in front of him, finding it completely uninteresting. He was trying to be more serious about becoming more fluent in English, but he was not feeling it today. He glanced back over at you and saw how intensely you were staring at your screen as your fingers flew over the keyboard.

"Hey, babe, what class are you doing homework for again?" He asked.

You glanced up at Taehyung briefly. "I’m writing a paper for my sociology class.”

“Do you like that class?”

“It’s fine. My professor is a little boring, but overall it’s pretty interesting.” You went back to typing, slipping back into the zone.

"What’s your favorite class out of the ones you’re taking this semester?” He asked after a few more minutes of silence.

"Taehyung, stop procrastinating, and do your work." You deadpanned, already knowing what he was trying to do.

Taehyung let out a groan of defeat and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "I really hate this."

You loved your boyfriend, but truly you had never met anyone so dramatic (okay that was a lie seeing how you knew both Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin). "I told you I would help you if you needed it. Did you forget that English is my first language?"

“And I told you that I can do this by myself. It’s not learning if you tell me the answers, duh babe.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Well then shut it and learn something!” Your tone was joking as you looked for the closest thing next to you to throw at him. You grabbed a nearby napkin you had used to wipe some dust off of your computer screen, balled it up, and tossed it across the table, watching it bounce off of Taehyung’s nose. You couldn’t help the loud laugh that slipped out of you as you looked at his blank expression.

"Noona, did you just throw a used napkin at me?" His tone was flat and he wore his signature, extremely intimidating stare.

"Y-yes?" Judging by the look on his face, you weren't sure whether or not you wanted to answer him. Taehyung was up and around the table in a flash. His hands were at your sides in an instant and he somehow managed to wrestle you to the carpet in between your shrieks.

You continued to thrash and giggle while Taehyung's long fingers dug into your sides. "K-Kim Taehyung, you stop it th-this instant!" Between Taehyung's weight on you and your hysterical laughter, you were having a hard time breathing, plus, you felt as though you’d wet yourself soon if he kept it up.

With a few more prods to your soft skin, Taehyung finally stopped, his hands going to either side of your head so you could get your breathing back. Your cheeks were a bright red and you were panting, but there was still a smile on your lips.

"You suck," you whispered.

"But you love me," Taehyung said matter of factly. He smiled down warmly at you, making your heart flutter. You did love him. A lot.

The two of you stayed like that for a few more minutes before Taehyung leaned down, his lips ghosting over your ear. You felt your heartbeat pick up because of your proximity and in anticipation as to what he'd say.

"Noona, can we go out and get ice cream now?" You scoffed and pushed his chest to get him from above you.

"That's all you're using me for, isn't it!? To buy you sweet frozen treats!" You exclaimed teasingly.

"No, of course not. I'm also using you for your amazing beef stew which I hope we're having for dinner." He flashed you another wonderful smile. You rolled your eyes and shimmied away from the younger boy.

"Fine. I'll grab my purse then we'll go get ice cream, but after that, we are coming right back and you are finishing your studies! Promise?"

"Yes, I promise!" Taehyung jumped to his feet and saluted you before running to the front door for his shoes. You followed behind him at a normal pace to gather your things.

Not even twenty minutes later, you two were strolling hand in hand in the park, both enjoying your ice cream. It was warm out but not hot enough for either of you to complain. The wind was blowing slightly, occasionally making your skirt billow at your knees. You made sure to savor the times like this that you spent together.

Being with Taehyung when he wasn't busy recording song lyrics or practicing choreography was your favorite. It was the days when he was off and he could relax that you loved. It's not that you weren't supportive, you were just concerned. No matter how much he claimed he had everything under control and that he was fine, he was still only a person. You had seen him practice the same dance moves over and over again until he looked ready to pass out. He had spent days, nearly weeks with you, forgetting to eat or hydrate when his mind was focused on a comeback. He was the most precious person to you and you made sure to never take his time with you for granted.

"Hello!? Y/n!?" You were taken from your reverie by Taehyung's hand waving wildly in your face. You blinked and looked up at him.

"Yes?"

"You were spacing out. I was trying to tell you about the park in Tokyo that the guys and I went to, but you weren't listening," he said before taking a few licks of his ice cream cone.

"I was paying attention!"

Taehyung shook his head quickly. "No, you weren't. When you're thinking about something important, your eyebrows scrunch up and your lips do this really cute pouty thing."

You opened your mouth to object then shut it. It wasn't the first time someone had told you that your facial expressions were like a guide to what you were thinking or feeling. Jungkook made fun of you all of the time because you had the worst poker face in the world and always told you that being a professional liar was most certainly not in your future. You sighed and gripped Taehyung's hand tighter. "It's just that...I'm really happy you have these next few weeks off is all."

That bright, boxy smile you loved so much broke out across Taehyung's face. "I'm happy I do too! I'm so glad I get to spend so much time with my favorite girl." He released your hand only to loop his long arm around your shoulders and pull you closer to his body. You wrapped your arm around his waist and made sure there was barely any space between your bodies. Taehyung leaned down, catching your lips in a short, sweet kiss. You felt your face flush for the second time that day because of Kim Taehyung.

When he pulled away, he winked at you before placing a second kiss on your forehead and resuming the walk. You decided to keep your other thoughts to yourself and let the warm, comfortable silence between the two of you hang in the air for a bit longer. You wanted to enjoy the moment with him and pushed any thoughts of worry to the side.

Once you had your fill of fresh air and your ice cream was long gone, you returned to your apartment. Taehyung immediately made a bee-line to your small kitchen, but you quickly grabbed his wrist and stopped him in his tracks.

"You stop right there! English work first, then I'll start dinner. You just had ice cream anyway. You promised you'd finish when we got back, remember?" Taehyung let out a long sigh before trudging over to the dining room table and plopping in front of his long-forgotten laptop. You smiled and went back to your homework, trying to figure out where you had left off.

"You know, I'm only doing this because I love you," Taehyung mumbled after a few minutes of sulking.

"I love you too, Taehyung." He didn't reply, but you saw the corners of his mouth quirk up into a tiny smile even though he kept his head down. You felt his jean-clad leg rub against yours before they intertwined under the table. You stayed like that as you both worked, letting this simple, seemingly plain gesture say everything else you wanted to say to each other and more.

#bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung fic #kim taehyung x reader #bts fic

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aesthetic4ngel · 4 years

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Letters.

Yuta Nakamoto x Reader !

2.7k Words !!

Primarily Fluff with hints of Angst! (swearing and very brief hint towards sex)

Summary — You & Yuta met when you were children. However after a long time you two finally reunite rather suddenly and realise that there’s a possibility you two could work out after all.

A/N: Hey angels! I’d appreciate if you’d let me know what you think of this one-shot! It’s my first ( properly written & uploaded ) fic! Not to mention, I’m curious yet anxious to know how well this is perceived! 🖤 also let me know if you would like a spicy part 2!

This was loosely inspired by an 80’s movie!

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ .⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⋆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⋆ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀. ⠀ ⋆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

Osaka prefecture, Japan, somewhere your family absolutely loved visiting every year for their summer vacation, the city was filled to the brim with; modern architecture mixed with traditional Japanese buildings, hearty cultural cuisine, nightlife. Osaka had it all. However, the beaches were amazingly unforgettable, the white sand and how it complimented the crystal clear ocean was something that would always remain in the memory of your household.

Speaking of your household, your parents were very fortunate to be very successful business folk, both managing a business that they had bought many years ago, the duo also owned shares in many other popular companies globally and to put it bluntly? Your family were mega rich. Your parents had it all, from expensive cars, to a big mansion. To be painfully honest, they didn’t expect to have a child and it was a shock when your mother had found out she was pregnant. In fact, they didn't really want to have any children at all, your parents were the workaholic type, constantly focusing on company and shares matters and whatnot, that's all that was important in their little business savvy minds.

So, that ultimately meant that your parents didn't really pay much attention to you, unless it was absolutely necessary, for example when you had wandered off in a store, curiosity getting the best of you, their voices calling your name pretending like they cared — you know, situations like that. There was one thing you were appreciative of and that happened to be the holidays to Osaka, it provided fresh air for you, both literally and mentally. Your favourite part was the beach, a youth like you would find yourself being too engulfed in making sand castles to ever notice the world around her, it was your escape from your life. . . Getting lost in your imagination, your innocent eight year old mind naively worrying about how your castle should look, like this was something important but finally you could bask in the glory of this calming moment of peace. Until. . .

"KONICHIWA!"

You let out a gasp, clearly startled, "You scared me!. . . What do you want? I'm trying to build this!" huffing, you turned to face the person whom had disrupted your attempts at sculpting the perfect sandcastle, folding your arms out of annoyance but your expression immediately softened when you realised who the voice belonged to, it was a boy.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I-I just wondered if you want to play?" He stood there with a frown, his high pitched voice becoming quiet when the realisation hit him that he shouldn't have approached you and spoken so abruptly like that.

"Well, would you like to help me build this?" You looked up at him with a smile, easily forgiving. Taking his hand, you gently pulled him down so he was sitting beside your frame, the two of you exchanged a toothy smile, before beginning to work on finishing your already halfway completed sand castle.

You found yourself and your new friend talking and giggling for what felt like hours, whilst working hard on completing the build, it was obvious that the two of you shared a lot of things in common; such as what you watch on television, likes and dislikes, upon many other things. It felt amazing to finally have someone to talk to.

"Soooooo, what's it like where you live?" You had always been curious about the Japanese culture and how everyone lived and frankly, you wanted to know everything there was to know, just so you could brag about it to your snobby friends back at the lavish private school you attended.

"It's okay, I mean, my house isn't that big but it's still home," the boy replied with a weak smile, which made you frown and look away, for the first time you actually felt guilty for ever asking such a personal question, that didn’t sound as intruding in your mind. Nevertheless you panicked a little, anxious that he was offended so you tried your best to make a smooth recovery with the conversation.

"You'll always have me y'know! I know I live far away and I'm going back home tomorrow but just know that I'll always be here for you," finally smiling, you nudged the boy playfully with your elbow to cheer him up, truthfully, you hated how you had to go back home tomorrow, back to school, back to being ignored, having nobody, it hurt — you didn’t want to leave this boy who actually enjoyed spending time with you.

"How will we talk if we'll never actually see one another?" He spoke up, raising his eyebrow in confusion, thinking for a moment before suddenly standing up, his eyes lighting up at his genius idea, "I know! Why don't we write to one another? Then we can always talk!"

"That's a great idea! I—" you were suddenly cut off by a voice that could be heard in the distance, "musuko! It's time to go home!" The voice was aged and you only assumed it belonged to the boys mother. Your attention was shifted due to his frantic search of his pockets, trying to find something that he could write on, eventually he pulled out a piece of scrunched up paper and a pencil. ( who knows why he had a pencil and some paper in his swimming shorts ) He scribbled some words and numbers down before swiftly handing it to you.

"Wait! Before you go, what's your name?" Your small self called out, comprehending that after all of the talking and enjoying each other’s company, you never learnt what the boys name was, yet you had told him your name, I guess both of you got caught up on more exciting topics.

"Yuta! Yuta Nakamoto!" He shouted in response, jogging up to his parents' shabby car before turning back to face you, "Don't forget me!" He shouted again, his tone sincere — smiling and waving goodbye before getting into the car, and just like that, he was gone.

With a weak smile, you straightened out the dishevelled note, your smile gradually growing wider upon reading what was written down, it was Yuta's address, you clutched the note and held it to your chest letting out a relieved sigh, before hastily running back to the holiday home your family owned that resides next to the beach.

~"Don't forget me!"~

It had been weeks since your return from Osaka and there you sat, at your perfect and polished white desk where homework would normally be sprawled out all over the table, your head down getting on with work, but this time? You were there for a different reason and that reason was to write to the boy you met in Osaka, Yuta Nakamoto. You smiled, looking down at the note which had his address scribbled on it, getting lost in your own thoughts momentarily. However, instead of procrastinating for any longer, you finally began to write the anticipated letter, crossing your fingers, hoping that Yuta and you would remain in contact.

Present Day. . .

Fortunately for you, that wish you had crossed your fingers for? Hoping and praying for? It was granted. Yuta immediately wrote back and this continued back and fourth. Suddenly, you felt like luck was on your side, everything was going just how you planned and finally, finally, you had that friend you had been waiting for all of your life, as cheesy as it sounded.

All throughout your childhood you confided in Yuta, he may not have been there physically to support you but he certainly felt like he was there spiritually — just how you trusted Yuta with your thoughts, so too did he with yourself. The Japanese boy had informed you about how he had picked up the hobby of football, how he hoped to carry that on and make a career out of it some day. As much as you wanted to support him, you had this odd feeling that despite his passion for sport, he wouldn’t pursue it. As for you? Well, you didn’t really have a choice in the matter in regard to your future or your occupation, it was all mapped out thanks to your overbearing parents, you had to become a successful business woman. . . You acted like that was a terrible idea through the span of your teenage years but the older you became, the more you realised that your parents only wanted what was best for you, for you to be successful like them and you were appreciative for that, because it finally felt like they cared for you, loved you.

Your family resumed the yearly vacations to Osaka, so that fortunately meant both Yuta and yourself could meet again, it was like the two of you practically grew up together and with every passing year, Yuta was growing into a handsome young man and you couldn’t help but develop this small crush on him at fifteen years old, it was cringeworthy yet cute looking back on it.

You honestly assumed this crush would have subsided but boy were you wrong, with every letter that arrived to your manor, with every word your eyes read, your heart would skip a beat and just as quickly as you became friends; you fell in love with Yuta just as fast. The next trip to Osaka was on your sixteenth birthday and it was a blur, all you remember is Yuta whispering a quick “close your eyes,” and the next thing you knew were his lips were on your own, they molded together perfectly with yours. Then his hands; how his hands curiously wandered your body, how yours did the same in return. It was blissful but it was short lived.

“I passed.”

“You passed what?”

“I passed the audition.”

“O-Oh, you never told me about an audition.”

“I wasn’t going to... y/n, we can’t meet again after this, that kiss last year? It was a mistake, I don’t like you in that way, when you go home, don’t write to me again, don’t call or text, because I won’t answer.”

That last conversation played repeatedly like a broken record within your mind, you still could not begin to fathom why Yuta had turned, it was almost as if a switch flipped, the way he left you standing there on the beach, sobbing alone, after that you definitely did not send him another stupid letter. Yet here you were present day; a fully grown adult, sitting in your parents holiday home in Osaka, all alone, dwelling on the past like usual. Then it occurred to you how you used to escape your thoughts all those years ago, by relaxing on the beach.

“I’m sorry, this area is blocked Miss.” the security guard held out his hand, blocking you from proceeding, making your face twist into confusion, ‘since when did they start closing the beach?’ You thought.

The guard was quick to pick up on your internal question, after all, it was written all over your face, “this beach is closed because a member of NCT 127 wants to be here without fans bothering him.”

“Who?” This heightened your confusion, who were NCT 127? You had no idea at all, it had been a while since you visited Japan so you weren’t up to date with the newest celebrities and pop culture or anything for that matter.

“Miss, I cannot give you access-” the security man trailed off, ranting — you stopped listening, instead preoccupied with this man you noticed in the distance beyond the barriers. His hair bleached blonde, dark and shaven along the sides, his presence ( although far away ) was familiar and you had no idea why; you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

You hadn’t even noticed when the mysterious man had approached you and the guard, the “drama” taking place outside of the barriers clearly catching his attention. Immediately Yuta knew it was you, he could tell a mile off, as soon as he heard your voice he froze, feeling his heart skip a beat and he knew he had to investigate further.

“Let her in. I know her.” It was rather blunt but that’s all Yuta managed to communicate, he was shocked, it had been so long but regardless, he wanted to keep a cold and distant exterior, he wanted to seem tough for some reason, maybe he was used to doing so when having to deal with clingy fans.

For a moment you were panicking, trying to piece together how you knew this man who was famous but as soon as you heard the guard mumble a quick “whatever you say, Nakamoto,” waving you in. That’s when it hit you like a ton of bricks, this was Yuta, this man with his eyebrow shaved, eyebrow piercing, clearly a celebrity, was Yuta.

Rage filled you quickly, especially when he flashed a smirk in your direction, you couldn’t believe that after all of this time, after practically abandoning you, he was acting so nice, like nothing ever happened! Then again, you couldn’t help but stare, he was so handsome, not to mention, extremely hot too, this look he was sporting, definitely suited him.

So when the two of you finally reached the beach, you did what was appropriate — slap him. Your actions made Yuta let out a small groan in response, his hand coming up to his cheek.

“What the fuck was that for? You should be grateful! Without me coming to the rescue you wouldn’t have been allowed on the beach!”

“How dare you! After all these years, you had left me crying and begging for you to come back! Now here you are saying I should be grateful? As if Yuta!” There was no hesitation to get all up in his face, you were feeling so many emotions at once in that moment, it was overwhelming to say the least, you genuinely believed that you would never see him again, yet here you were, standing on the exact same beach where the two of you had first met as children.

“I left you to protect you y/n!”

“Protect me?! Don’t even try and lie! You said you didn’t even like me! Then you left me! and look who gets all of the luck now, Yuta Nakamoto who’s famous! Oh and who’s a major asshole too!”

Within no time, this turned into a screaming match between you both, many times you had gone to slap Yuta again and every single time his hands caught your wrists, gripping both of them tightly, just so you couldn’t wriggle out of his grip.

But what happened next? You didn’t expect that at all. . . It was an all too familiar feeling. Your eyes widened in shock, your hands wanted to push him away but you couldn’t, having Yuta’s lips meet yours once more made your eyes flutter closed, just like that you were weak at the knees for this man again, although you hated to admit it. Yuta slowly loosened his grip, gradually moving his hands elsewhere, deciding on wrapping them around your waist but your hands made their way around his neck, eventually slithering down to rest upon his chest, the kiss turning into a makeout all because of Yuta’s tongue forcefully pushing its way past your lips, he was so eager to explore what he had been missing. Before things could get too heated, you pulled away, panting, regaining your breath.

“Just because you kissed me, doesn’t mean I forgive you.” It was your turn to smirk now, you enjoyed how hot and bothered Yuta was, your fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt, teasing him.

“Seriously y/n, I’m sorry, I was an idiot, I wanted to protect you from everything, I didn’t want you receiving hate from my company or any fans, I want to start again because I do love you and as cringy as it sounds, I’ve always loved you. . . So please, will you give me a second chance?” Yuta pleaded, biting his lip, preparing himself for the worst possible outcome, you could easily leave him, exactly how he left you but you weren’t like that, you were in love with Yuta.

“Of course I’ll give you a second chance you idiot!” You giggled, tilting your chin to plant a small peck on his lips before smirking once again.

“Now why don’t we continue what you started back at my vacation home, big boy?”

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funkymbtifiction · 4 years

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Hi guys! I I'm an ENXP and I was looking for some advice about knowing myself better. I saw the mods are ENPs and maybe you guys could help me. I recently noticed a pattern regarding my own actions that is basically ruining my life. I seem to rely too much on my Ne, specially about my future and my career. I'm ruled by a need of pursuing anything that catches my attention in a determined moment. I obsess over it for a while and then move on. I've changed my major 4 times now. Every activity I do is temporary. And if I don't find something I can obsess over I get depressed and bored. Anyways, I think this has led me to not trust myself anymore, since I can't commit to anything because I lose interest in everything and I'm always looking for new possibilities. I have reached a point where I can't allow myself to pursue everything I want and I have to make decisions and commit. But I'm too scared to become trapped and take responsibility for my own decisions. I think this would be easier if I knew myself better, but I don't think I know who I am besides my own random interests, which is weird I guess. How can I develop my own Fi? Or Ti? How do you guys deal with your dominant Ne? How do you commit to things? I'm 23 by the way. Shouldn't I have developed some Fi or Ti or something by now? I turned to mbti because I wanted to gain a better understanding of myself but holy shit this is hard. I could only recognize my dominant Ne. All this self analysis seems useless if I don't really know myself, I realized I'm not self aware at all. So anyways, as fellows Ne doms how did you guys developed your auxiliary functions? Any advice will be amazing! Thank you guys for everything you do here!

The first thing you need to do is recognize is you are an Enneagram 7 and all of this is ‘normal’ for them in lower health levels. To overcome this, you have to ‘grow up’ as a 7 and stop allowing fear of commitment or quick loss of focus from dominating your life. You have control over yourself, you are not utterly helpless to your whims (said the Fi user who has a moral tone of ‘you make your own choices and messes and you have to get out of them’ ;).

7s have to learn to be open to the scary idea of commitment to reap the dividends of hard work.

Read the 7 profile and see how allowing yourself to ‘run away’ from commitment (which includes not finishing or devoting yourself to any project) can hinder your life. Once you recognize WHAT you are doing, and WHY you are doing it, you can develop the power to STOP YOURSELF from doing it, or from allowing ‘excuses’ or fear to run you away from good things.

ENTP Mod. : Charity is right. Here is also where the judging functions come into play. With Fi, you can eventually weed out that which you aren't personally passionate about/ those goals which don't align with your personal values. With Ti, you can see a chain reaction of the patterns in your life, and determine the most effective path to help yourself using logic to streamline your processes, make it more elegant.

Slow the hell down. Force yourself to stop running toward the future and live right now. Repeat the mantra of ‘right now is all that matters today’ a 100 times an hour if you have to. Be present. Be invested. Bring yourself into ‘now.’

My co-mod is a 7w6 ENTP who suffers from a lot of the same issues; I will nudge her to offer her two cents to this post, in regards as to what she is currently doing about it. Basically, she had to talk herself into getting a permanent job rather than talking herself out of it. Once she got into it, she realized it didn’t suck as much as she feared. Her brain is her own worst enemy.

I had to talk myself into this job. I gave myself lots of reasons why I would love it. It might sound a little unrealistic going in with pre set expectations but at least you will not go in blind. Making a pros cons list is always a good idea. It helps to sift through your multiple ideas, and narrow down the ones which can really work. Test out the feasibility of your ideas, opportunities before hand. Talk to people, do your research. Just remember that things will never be as bad or boring as you think them to be. This is a cliche but something which helps me in the mornings when I know I have boring work to do is "Get up, dress up, show up. Never give up." Also it helps to live from day to day. Don't worry too far into the future, you never know what variables might upset your plans.

Work-wise, a 7 needs to travel, get the ‘high’ of meeting new people, and not to be involved in sheer detail-driven grunt work. They need challenges to work toward and obstacles to overcome. Pick a career that offers you all of that. If you do not, you will have a string of 6 months at ___ jobs that do not look good on your resume. Find a career in something that you feel passionate about, that offers some kind of mental stimulation.

ENTP 7 co-mod is an attorney who loves to find ways to ‘get around things’ in the law.

ENTP Mod. note: Always try to remember the root of your passion when you feel like defecting from one option to another. If you must leave, leverage what you have learned in one place and how you can dress that up to make your hopping about look good. That's what I did, and it worked for me. Some of the reasons I love my job are the constant intellectual stimulation, creative aspects of it, my love for criminology pays off, meeting interesting people. Sure there are sucky days when you have to deal with the bureaucratic demons. But that won't be every day. Unless your role requires you to do something like it. In which case I would suggest that you avoid picking up detail heavy, low Si or adherence related work which will make you feel miserable and frustrated. Try to pick something that plays to your strengths, improve your weaknesses. Compete with nobody but yourself. Every day you are better than you were, yesterday. Even with a little effort. It is important to not give up. It is so hard for 7s but we have the gift of rationalizing. So instead of using it as a mechanism to justify dropping things, use it to tell yourself why you should stick around. You as a 7 can make most things fun. So find little tricks and ways to make the work day fun. Whether it is achieving small, impactful targets or making games out of small, low stakes things. Also, having money and being able to live nicely is fun. Nobody is gonna pay you if they think that their money will be wasted on training you if your pattern is just leaving jobs. It took me a long time to develop this perspective but I am glad I did.

I (ENFP 6w5 sp/so) chose a career in magazine editing, because it gives me time to do what I actually love, which is write novels. I’m afraid I can’t give you advice from my own life that would work for you, because a 6w5 sp/so is far more focused and driven to finish their projects than a 7w6, which means I push through ‘the boring, tedious bits’ of projects regardless of how ‘excited’ I am. It’s not fun to edit a book 7 times, but I still do it. I force myself to show up to work, to sit there for 3 or 4 hours, and commit to X amount of words, pages, etc.

Do you think it’s “fun” for me always to keep this queue stocked, or to type up characters at the end of a long day because the queue is low? Or go back and update old profiles and move them from this blog onto wordpress? No. I hate it sometimes. It’s boring as hell. But I committed to it, I will see it through, even though looking into my “to update” folder makes me want to scream. I tackle huge projects one step at a time. I’m disciplined but I can procrastinate at work, rather than doing whatever needs doing.

Which really is the bottom line. You want to finish things? Just do them. Force yourself to show up and do the work, even if it’s “boring.” Most of life isn’t fun. Paying the bills isn’t fun. You do boring stuff to make a living, so you can have the money to do fun things. If you do not learn to do it, whether or not it is fun, you will wind up ‘stuck at home this month, because I have no money.’

That frustrates a 7 even more than being bored at work.

Accept that your fear of commitment is a fear-driven lie.

You are not going to get trapped by committing to something or someone. Head types massively over-think things and allow fear – in the 7’s case of “missing out” on better things – to dominate their life. Admit it’s fear. Admit that allowing fear to ruin your entire life is stupid. Then do something against the fear. Do the thing fear tells you not to: commit and work at it. Fight the urge every day to leave. Stick it out, and prove you ‘can’ to yourself.

Middle functions. You’re in college so you should be seeing either some Ti analyzing or Te “buckle down and set goals and get this schoolwork finished by the deadline” kicking in. Are you more inclined to self-doubt and beat yourself up like a young FiTe user after ‘failing’ to organize your time efficiently or to make excuses and blame external circumstances like a young TiFe user?

My Fi has always been strongly evident, though I didn’t know what it was at the time. Things that set off a NOPE response in me vs. the ‘rest of everything, which I don’t care about.’ The intense sensitivity as a child. The compassion for other people and especially for small animals. The understanding of emotional dynamics and how people ‘feel.’ The constant angst between caring too much about people’s feelings and being low Te blunt or rude when I’m having an off day. The ‘going away from everyone’ to deal with my feelings in private. I have always fiercely, Fi-ishly known what I like and do not like, and have no ability to ‘tolerate’ things that I do not like. Once, I didn’t like half the people seated at my table at a public event, so I shut down completely and did not say a word to anyone at the table for two hours. My Fe friend also hated them, but smiled and charmed them all. Lucky girl. She can fake her feelings. I can’t.

- ENFP Mod

#enneagram #enneagram 7 #enfp #entp #mbti #7w6 #entp mod

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imagine-your-kh · 4 years

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✬ I’m Back ! ✬

Oh gosh, it took way more time than what I expected, I’m sorry.

Okay, I have a few things to say, so let’s dive in... !

It will be open this Sunday ! Please check the Rules before sending any !

I will try to use a countdown that will be linked in the post to show how much time is left... ! This will be a test to see how it goes, you’re free to tell me if you like this idea or not... !

I will try a few things, slowly, so if it doesn’t please you, don’t be scared to speak out... !

Like I said before, I will try a countdown system for the MatchUp when it’s open. For now I’m hesitating between 24 hours of open MatchUp or more; we’ll see Sunday. I don’t know if it will stay or not, if I won’t need to close the MatchUp before the end of the countdown or something, depending how the test goes... !

I will try a few things for the design of the blog : changing the Pages of the Global HC (relationship and nsfw), some pictures, the divider, ... I want changes. So don’t be surprise if you notice a few things here and there in the following month(s) ! Again, don’t be scared to give your opinion.

I remembered there was a Chrome extension to change the y/n by your name. I always tried to avoid these ‘code’ because it break the flow of the text to me, but are you interested by more “y/n” to play with Chrome’s add-ons ? I wanted to try the html code to make it possible on my blog (without add-on), but it’s annoying to me to add it in my post everytime and breaking the formatting (that the new design of Tumblr make me upset already). If you know a Firefox version of it, please tell me... !

Long story short : I got little problem after little problem after my huge surgery in August. Next week there will be the (normally) last fix...

On the top of that, we learned that my mother has leukemia. She’s actually on the hospital. She got better and better now, but there were some bad time.

Now if you want the long story, it’s under the cut

It ended that she was waking up late, came in the sofa waiting for the energy to kick in and... It didn’t. She was sleeping all day long in the sofa or in her bed.

My father and I insisted for her to see a doctor, but she hates it, tries to avoid medicines, and she had a very very strong contradictory mind.

She did, the doctor taking blood.

Leukemia.

Since then, she’s at the hospital.

My father and I were left alone in the house and let me tell you a few (shameful) things :

- My mom was taking care of the house mostly on her own. I was helping her here and there, but not much because she wasn’t pleased how I was doing it, the result, “I can do it” or as kindness to give me peace. With the fact she has a very strong contradictory mind, she also become very aggressive when we insist. I grew up with her, my fear of conflict probably came from this, but in any case I never insisted because I didn’t wanted to fight for something so trivial and using energy for a fight I would never win in the end. So what happened when my mom goes to the hospital? I became the housewife. In a house that isn’t organized in my way (fun fact : it’s organized “where I found place” word my mother) and that I can’t reorganized like I want because my mother will come back, of course. But there weren’t just about that, she was also taking care of the papers. The food. The first weeks my father and I were just running everywhere to know where the papers were, what we needed to take care of (my mother knew when she needed to sent papers and wasn’t telling to us so we got a few surprises for example) and the freaking food. I’m ashamed that we ended to throw food away because we were trying to cook what we had, but a few elements were supposed to make a (complicated for us) meal or that we thought we were out of and it wasn’t. This running in circle for weeks was stressful and I ended to do the most. And guess what? I ended at the hospital because I had pushed my limits and got a infection on the result of my surgery. At that time, I had a few request in Queue but I just hadn’t time to write one to add in the Queue. It was stressful to see the number approaching zero but I couldn’t write. When I finally got time in the end of the day I wanted to relax.

- My mother was the mediator between my father and I. Left alone in a stressful situation where I was thinking “I can do it, I can try, let me do it, I’m right” and where he was thinking “you can’t do it, don’t try because you’ll fail, I’m right” it was inevitable that at some point we ended to scream at each other. My father is really affected by my mother’s situation. I had more than one depression in my life. I couldn’t have one right now. I became the support of my father, reassuring him, trying to stay positive, I couldn’t have a depression. I just couldn’t. It’s hard to fight ourselves and supporting someone else at the same time. I could have tried to see the “psychologist” of the hospital, but I have the bad habit to keep everything inside.

-Next to all of this, I was trying to resurrect my Discord Server. I’m not a leader, I try to make everyone happy even if I know it’s impossible, I still tried. Trying to please everyone displease everyone and I was open to make just a little change, not enough. We were something like 30 persons on it, a “fight” happened before between me and the Mods (long story that could be resumed as : lack of communication and I panicked), I asked who wanted to join the Mods to be sure that they were motivated, I reworked the Server.. I won’t enter in the detail of what it was because I don’t want to enter again in the debate, but a few people weren’t happy about a situation. I tried to mediate but the persons wanted just it to be gone from their view so left the Server, and I didn’t wanted to get rid of it because I wasn’t seeing the wrong of it. In the end of the journey, it was 1a.m in my timezone when a friend that was on the Server and left because of it wanted to talk about it with me and it ended in a fight because their anger grew more and more that I wasn’t understanding how wrong it was (supposed to be). When they started to use capital, very upset, it clicked in my mind that this situation was stressful, making me sick and anxious... For a Sever that was already dying. And I couldn’t afford at that time with my mother to have a drop of mood. So I chose my IRL life and abandoned the Server in a rush, something that was in my mind since the first “fight”. It took me a full month to lose all the habits I got from a year to be on the Server. I miss to see all the OCs, all the news and ideas of my friends and people. I miss to not just drop a fanart in it, knowing it will please people without having to come in private and be scared to bother. I don’t miss to be glued on my phone every minute to be sure that nothing wrong was happening on the Server and be on charge. Be a leader isn’t for me.

I just couldn’t bring myself to write for the blog. When I had time, I just wanted to relax and doing nothing. For a long time I didn’t even draw. I love seeing your reactions, reading your ideas, interacting with you, but English isn’t my first language. I’m learning with this blog. I check less and less my translator, but this is still more difficult for me to write a request than what @lucky0stars can do. I’m also a procrastinator, I never was so productive before, but it’s because I’m “forcing” myself to focus. When everything is alright, I still end sometime to slap myself because “dude, you need to write your request. Do at least one”. So you can imagine that in the situation where I’m right now... It just blocked.

So I announced the break, without knowing when it will be done.

A few things happened (like my mother who had a few weeks in an artificial coma) that you don’t need to know, but it seem to calm down. I’m slowly coming back.

I’m here now.

#mun mun talk

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thenovelartist · 5 years

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Disruptor Designer and her Model, day 17

17. Aspik (Adrien with the snake Miraculous)

“How are you so good at this?” Adrien cried, watching his video game character die once again.

“My dad taught me everything,” Marinette replied slyly. “You know what the first rule of this game is?”

“What?” Adrien deadpanned.

“Don’t pick Aspik.”

“But Aspik is a good character with good abilities—”

“His stats are unbalanced, and his power is mediocre at best.”

“No, it is not. I’ve won countless games with him. He’s a strong character. You’re just OP as Ladybug.”

“What’s wrong with Ladybug?”

“She’s OP.”

“Is not!”

“Is so!”

Marinette scoffed. “Get over it. She is not. You’re just pissed I’m kicking your butt.”

He was, but that wasn’t the point.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do with your workload?” he asked, recalling the whole reason he came over in the first place.

Marinette nodded. “I’ll have to hire someone. That’s the only way I can think of that will free me up enough to start designing a line. They can help me with all the photoshoots and camera work, and I can pawn all the video editing off on them. Even then, I might have to go down to two videos a week. Which will be a bummer, but oh well.”

“How you do what you do in the first place is impressive,” Adrien said. “No one in their right mind could crank out videos at the rate you do.”

“Which is why this is likely way overdue that I hire someone to take over my stuff so I actually have some more free time.”

“That would be really good for you,” Adrien said.

“I know,” Marinette said. “Now, I just have the task of finding someone good and who I trust to take that over.”

“Can you ask any of your friends?”

She shook her head. “No. The ones I could ask to do this are people who don’t have time, and the ones who do have time wouldn’t know how to do this.”

“Puts a bit of a damper on things.”

Marinette nodded. “So, I’ll have to put up an ad and have interviews and ugh.” She flopped over against his side, her head pressed against his shoulder. “I don’t wanna.”

Adrien chuckled. “This is why you’ve been putting it off.”

“Yeah,” she whined.

Adrien paused. “Tell you what, what if I were the one to help you with the whole interview process? Setting up the ad and scanning resumes?”

Her head popped up, her eyes wide with hope. “Would you?”

Adrien grinned. “Yeah, I totally would if it would help you.”

“You’re amazing!” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. “That would be awesome.”

With a chuckle, he draped his arm around her shoulders, holding her there close to him. “You’re welcome.”

…

When he got home that evening, after a couple hours of gaming as well as having dinner with Marinette, Adrien checked his phone. He had turned it off for the evening, mostly because he hated being interrupted during his time with Marinette. The other reason was so that he would have a legitimate excuse to have not taken his father’s calls.

Which there had apparently been six of.

With a sigh, Adrien collapsed onto his couch before resigning himself to listening to the messages. All of which were versions of “call me back when you get the chance.”

But honestly, Adrien didn’t want to. He knew that, despite the time, his father was likely still up, but Adrien wasn’t up to talking with him tonight. He’d call him early tomorrow.

Suddenly, the thought of Marinette asking him what he wanted for his future came to mind. It got him asking ‘was this really what he wanted to do with his life?’ Sure, it was his father’s company, but was it really important to Adrien? Because the fact was that the moment Gabriel stopped designing was the moment ‘Gabriel’ stopped being ‘Gabriel’. Gabriel would be a brand name, not a designer original. Not even Adrien could step up to take the plate.

Despite knowing that his father worked hard to build that company, did it matter enough to Adrien to take over the family business if the business was dependent upon his father? Did he really want to handle a business just because it was a steady job?

The answer to that question lead him to sit at his computer that night and search all about how to edit videos.

…

Marinette was surprised to get a call from Adrien so early in the morning. “Hey, you’re calling early… and aren’t you at your job?”

“I am,” he said, “But I have some really important questions I need to ask you. And as much as I want to do them in person, I can’t wait and want to do them now.”

Marinette grinned. “Okay. Well, you know I love hearing from you, even more so when you’re helping me procrastinate writing an ad for a job as a video editor.”

“It’s about that,” Adrien said. “I have a proposition to make you.”

Marinette’s brow furrowed at his serious tone. “And that is?”

“Hire me as your manager-slash-assistant.”

Instantly, Marinette froze. “W-what?”

“Hire me,” he repeated. “And let me edit your videos and be your cameraman. But I also can help you with all your managerial stuff, because you running a website and a store is going to take a lot of your time, and I know how that stuff functions. If you’re approached by more investors, I know how to handle them, too. I basically help manage a multi-billion-dollar company; I can help you run your store—”

“Adrien,” Marinette cut in. “Are you serious?”

“I’m dead serious.”

“Do you even have time for that?”

“No, which is why I’m asking you now to know if I need to quit my job or not.”

It was like a bucket of ice water just got poured over her. “What?”

Adrien sighed at the other end of the line. “Do you remember when we were talking about the future and you asked me if I want to continue working for my dad’s company?”

Her voice was so weak. “Yeah.”

“The answer is no,” he said. “No, I don’t.”

“But you’re going from one management job to an assistant-manager, whatever-you-called-it.”

Adrien paused. “Yes,” he said. “But there’s one big difference.”

“And that is?”

“I actually want to work for you,” he said. “I want to edit your videos and help you manage your store and do everything else you need from me.”

“Adrien…” As tempting as the offer sounded, she was still hesitant. For what reason, she wasn’t sure. “Are you really sure that’s a good idea?”

“Well,” he said. “It’s the first time I’m deciding something for myself without being told what to do. Right or wrong, the fact is the choice is mine. And I’m going to go with it.”

Marinette bit her lip. “I’m not going to stop you,” she said. “Because honestly… the prospect of working with you sounds too good to pass up. But, I don’t want you to take this lightly. Consider what you’re wanting to do here. Your father isn’t going to be happy.”

“The freaking whipped cream and cherry on top of this sweet deal,” he said. “The main dish consisting of me actually taking a job I would care about and getting to work with you on a near daily basis.”

Marinette sighed. “Then I won’t stop you,” she said. “And I’ll happily give you the job.”

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. “Then my first order of business today is writing up my two weeks.”

She shouldn’t be feeling as happy as she was, but honestly, she couldn’t really care. “You know,” she said just as the through popped into her head. “I won’t be able to pay you as much—”

“Whatever,” Adrien said, but the smile on his face was clear. “It’s not about the money. I’m financially stable. No matter what you pay me, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” she said. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I am,” he said.

“I just don’t want you to—”

“Marinette,” Adrien cutting in. “You know that I’m a multi-millionaire, right? And that I have an extremely good handle on investing and business?”

Marinette paused. “Okay, point taken.”

“Good. Then, with that settled, I’m going to let you go. I have a two-week’s to write.”

By the tone of his voice, Marinette could hear just how excited he was at that prospect.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she returned. “Will I see you tonight?”

“I’ll bring dinner and wine, and we’ll celebrate.”

A grin spread across her face just as a warmth filled her chest. “That sounds good. I’ll see you tonight, love.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #ladrien june 2019 #ladrien #adrien agreste #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #fluff

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luckyspike · 5 years

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Definitely Not a Wizard - A Good Omens Fanfic (or: Crowley breaks several rules of Aziraphale’s bookshop)

Me at 9pm: I’m just gonna write a quick fanfic just to get some of this energy out.

Spongebob title card: Several hours later.......

Anyway look it’s more fic with Crowley and kids because I’m a predictable sap that likes children interacting with eldritch horrors.

In the days following the Nahpocalypse, and indeed, the years, Crowley and Aziraphale settled into a routine. They moved out of the city, and set a primary base of operations up in the countryside. Retirement, Aziraphale had initially thought, was appealing. Oh, he’d keep the bookshop open one or two days a week, he had said to Crowley, as the demon drove the Bentley to the chalky cliffs of South Downs, just initially, until he settled in, but probably after a year or so he’d be ready to let it go.

Crowley had nodded and said nothing. He was no Agnes Nutter, but he had known Aziraphale for 6000 years, and he was fairly certain ‘letting it go’ was not anywhere on the agenda in the future.

He was right. Four months in, when the winter was harsh and the weather was hideous, Aziraphale found Crowley in the greenhouse, lounged back in an overly-ornate garden chair, fingers steepled, glaring at the plants lined up before him. An iced coffee rested on the arm of the chair beside him, condensation running down the outside of the cup in the pleasantly warm humidity of the greenhouse. The plants, trembling, steadied somewhat when the angel came in, brushing his hands absently through their leaves while Crowley rolled his eyes.

“What is the point,” he said, gesturing to the row of comforted plants, “of menacing them if you’re just going to come through and tell them it’ll all be alright? I’ve been working on that aptenia for weeks! I nearly had it!”

“Ah, well, I’ll bring it comfort in its brief life, I suppose. Say, Crowley,” the angel pulled up a chair beside the demon, who was watching carefully as the aptenia stilled for a moment, and then resumed trembling, perhaps more than before. “May I impose on you?”

Crowley paused. “Depends,” he replied, eventually. “Can’t say I’m really in the mood at the moment, angel.”

Aziraphale waved his hands and laughed a little. “No, no, not that, you incorrigible old snake. No, I’m wondering if you might be available to … well, I’m thinking of opening the bookshop a bit more. You know. Just … obviously not selling anything.”

“You’re bored,” Crowley observed, languid and smug, reclining even more aggressively in his chair and taking a leisurely sip of iced coffee. “You’re bored and you need me to drive you to London so you can open the bookshop more and -”

“Yes, that’s what I just said,” the angel answered, peevish.

“Are you lonely? Not enjoying my company enough?” There was no offense in it, no meanness. He prodded Aziraphale in the side. “Not as fun to intimidate me, eh? Just don’t give the same thrill of customers.”

Aziraphale glared. “Do you want to drive me to London three days a week or not?”

Crowley sipped his drink again and let his head fall back, feet propped up on a potting table. His eyes closed, although he never stopped smirking. “‘Course. Been waiting for you to ask for the last two months.”

“You don’t have to be so self-satisfied about it,” Aziraphale said with a frown, settling back in his own chair with his arms crossed. “Smug.”

“Don’t I? It’s sort of my scene, angel.”

“Hmph.” Aziraphale didn’t argue. Rather, he looked to the demon, dozing to his left, and then to the rows of plants in the greenhouse. And then he smiled, broad and honest and full of mischief. “You know,” he said, suddenly raising his voice to a near-shout, “he really quite likes all of you!” Crowley’s eyes snapped open. “I see the way he looks at you all sometimes! He’ll never say it, but he does like you, all of you, in his own way!”

“Angel!”

Aziraphale rose, and primly brushed the non-existent lint from the front of his waistcoat and pants. He turned to Crowley and smiled with divine beneficence. “I must protect and comfort. It’s my scene.” He started to walk away, back to the cottage, stroking the plants on the opposite side of the row, this time. They leaned toward his touch. “Would you mind tomorrow, by the way?”

“I might,” Crowley muttered.

“Excellent. I’d like to open the store at nine, if you wouldn’t mind.” The doors closed behind him, and Crowley crossed his legs as he glared after the angel, arms crossed over his chest.

“If you don’t mind,” he repeated, mocking. “He’s lucky I like him.” He raised his voice, and glared over the greenhouse full of plants. “Unlike you lot!” With a grunt, he hoisted himself to his feet and began stalking through the rows of plants. “Surprise inspection! I’d better not see a single blemish, you miserable heaps of pre-compost!”

Miraculously, he didn’t. Not even a single droopy leaf. Even the aptenia. In the cottage, Aziraphale smiled and turned his page.

It did start as a chauffer arrangement*. Three days each week, Crowley drove Aziraphale into Soho and dropped him off at the bookshop. Sometimes he would come in and spend the day, sometimes he would leave and ramble around London. On occasion he would go on a day trip elsewhere, usually Tadfield. In the spring, he enrolled** in a university physics course. He did homework. It was interesting, and a nice way to spend the time besides, now that he was more-or-less retired.

Well, mostly retired. He did tempt his classmates to procrastination and cheating at times, because old habits die hard, and they were university students anyway so they hardly needed a full temptation. Just a gentle push, really. Also, Aziraphale noted somewhat astutely one night over wine, if everyone procrastinated studying then the average grade for the test would be a bit lower, possibly resulting in a generous curve, which Crowley invariably benefitted from. Crowley, mid-way through an equation, glared at him for the remark, but didn’t dispute it.

“Oh, I need a favor,” Aziraphale said after a minute, and more fevered scratching from Crowley as the worked at the equation more. The demon glanced up.

“Aziraphale, if you’re going to open the shop four days each week, we might as well move back to London.”

“Oh? Oh! No, no that wasn’t what I was thinking of.”

“Oh.” Crowley propped his chin in his hand and tapped the pencilpoint on the paper. It was a wonder he didn’t have smoke coming out of his ears, Aziraphale reflected, the way he was looking at the paper.

Well, Aziraphale had said math might be wise to take first, before physics. No one to blame but himself, really.

“I have an appointment tomorrow,” Aziraphale said, continuing when Crowley hummed in distracted acknowledgement. “I’m meeting a woman about a first-run printing of Harry Potter. With the shop only being opened a few days per week, I’d hate to close it down for a few hours in the middle of one of the days for the meeting.”

“Why? Planning on selling something?”

“No, but people do like to browse.” He leaned forward and to the side slightly, so he would poke into Crowley’s field of vision. “Would you mind watching the shop for me for a few hours while I have my meeting?”

“Huh?” Crowley looked up, and then visibly re-wound the last minute of conversation in his mind. “Since when do you buy fantasy?”

“It’s a cultural phenomenon, Crowley.” Aziraphale waved a hand. “And that’s irrelevant, besides. Would you be able to watch the shop? Please?”

Pursed lips as the demon considered the request. More idle pencil-tapping. The point snapped off, and Crowley didn’t seem to notice. “Just … just make sure nobody messes up the books, right?”

“Yes. And don’t sell anything.” Aziraphale’s eyebrows arched as he allowed himself a hopeful smile. “Please?”

Crowley sighed. “Yeah, I can do that. Fine.”

During the commute in to London the next day, Aziraphale distracted himself from the no-less-than-twelve near-discorporations by quizzing Crowley on Bookshop Management Principles. “Are children allowed?”

“Only if accompanied by parents,” Crowley recited, monotone. “And they cannot touch anything earlier than a fourth edition, or the books in the children’s section.”

Aziraphale smiled. “And what if someone wants to buy a book?”

“Encourage-them-to-leave-but-please-don’t-terrify-them,” Crowley replied, mechanically. “How long is this appointment? An hour? It’s not like your shop has just huge amounts of foot traffic, Aziraphale.” He looked to Aziraphale and read the expression on the angel’s face. “Two hours?”

“Probably closer to three. I expect there will be bartering.”

“Hm.” The Bentley rumbled on. “I’ll still manage just fine.”

“I’m sure you will, dear.” Aziraphale patted Crowley’s arm, and there wasn’t a trace of irony in his smile. “I have no doubts.”

Crowley did leave for a few hours after dropping Aziraphale off - likely to hunt down a decent cup of coffee and spread a few wiles around, which would be typical - but he did return ten minutes before Aziraphale planned to leave for his meeting, coffee in hand. Aziraphale smiled, and looked him up and down, hands clasped in front of him as he appraised the demon before he left.

He looked nothing at all like a shopkeeper. But he looked everything in the world like Crowley, which was, in Aziraphale’s opinion, much better. He laid his hands on Crowley’s shoulders for a second, smiled, and then turned to grab his briefcase. “Remember, keep an eye on teenagers, and don’t let anybody fold the pages or bend the spines, and don’t sell anything.” This last was said in unison with Crowley, who tried to look annoyed but mostly just looked amused.

“I can handle it, angel. I incited original sin, I think I can manage a shop for three hours.”

“That’s … not reassuring.”

Crowley pushed Aziraphale - gently - toward the door, giving him an extra nudge between the shoulderblades at the threshold. “Have fun getting your letter to Hogwarts, see you in a while.”

“It’s a first edition Harry Potter book, not -”

“Goodbye, Aziraphale.” The bell over the door tinkled as the door closed. On the other side of the glass, Aziraphale was glaring at him. Crowley waved and, with a sigh, the angel turned and started off down the sidewalk to his meeting. Crowley watched until he faded out of sight and into the throngs of people on the London sidewalks, and then turned to the shop, empty at the moment, hands in his pockets. “Right.” Aziraphale always kept a chair by the window next to the perpetually-unused register, and Crowley dropped into it, appreciating the sunbeam coming through the window and the warmth it provided. He closed his eyes, and briefly considered Going Snake just to enjoy the sunbeam all the more, before his withered and blackened but surprisingly-resilient sense of duty chimed in with the opinion that Aziraphale definitely would not approve of either napping on the job or watching the store in the form of a ten-foot-long viper. And certainly not both at once. He would probably even be cross.

Crowley opted to play a game on his phone instead.

It was a full 45 minutes into his shift before a customer entered. She was college-age, dark hair and eyes, vaguely reminiscent of someone he’d known in Mesopotamia. Maybe an ancestor, he considered. Probably not, though. That was a long time ago. She looked around the shop, obviously at a loss as to where to begin, before she caught sight of Crowley in his chair. She straightened a bit more, and he sat up slightly, under the pretense of politeness. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi.”

“Do you … have any Ursula Le Guin?”

Crowley raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “No idea.” There, that ought to put her off browsing around. She cocked her head. “Just watching the shop for the afternoon, sorry. Not really clear on all the inventory.”

“Oh.” She looked to the shop, and her shoulders relaxed a little as she looked across the stacks of books, the shelves with their haphazard organization. “Is it OK if I look around?”

“Yeah.” Crowley pulled his phone back out and propped his feet up on the table with the register on it. “Of course. Let me know if you need help.” The look she gave him indicated she rather doubted there would be anything he could help her with, and she wandered off into the shelves. Crowley settled back in. Suited him fine. He returned to his game, although he kept one ear on the woman, and would glance up from his game on occasion, just to make sure she wasn’t up to anything, like stealing or worse, trying to buy something.

She had been in the shop for about fifteen minutes when another customer entered. Crowley almost groaned. Unreal.

At least this one seemed more than passingly familiar with the bookshop. She paused at the threshold and nodded to Crowley, trying not to make a show of looking around the store. “Mr. Fell not in today?”

“He’ll be back in a couple of hours,” Crowley answered, counting down the minutes in his brain. “Had a meeting.”

“Are you a … friend of his? Watching the store for him?” She watched Crowley nod in agreement. “Ah. Er, I’ve been coming in on my lunch for the past few days to read a book.” She glanced to the other woman in the shop, and then took a step closer to Crowley, lowering her voice. “Mr. Fell said it was alright, only I couldn’t afford to actually buy the book.”

“Yeah, some are quite valuable.” Crowley became conscious of the tone of his voice, the sprawl of his knees, and wrenched the temptation knob down to a respectable 5 out of 10***. He looked back to his phone. “If he was alright with you reading over lunch I’m not going to stop you. Just don’t, you know, fold anything or anything.”

She stood back a little, visibly disappointed. “Great,” she said, though her voice was a little flat. “I’ll be careful. Thanks.” The book in question was set to a table to the side, which had no labels but was piled high with books rife with bookmarks, and she took it from the pile before walking softly back through the shop to the little sitting area by the wall opposite the register. Crowley forced a smile when she looked to him, before she opened the book and settled in to read.

Eventually, the first customer of his inaugural shift at A. Z. Fell & Co. left, looking disappointed. He smiled and waved at her as she went. The second customer also left, about forty-five minutes after coming in. She paused at the table after she set her book back down, obviously considered saying something to Crowley, and then thought better of it, leaving with a subdued smile and a little wave, which he returned with rather more enthusiasm than necessary.

Two confused customers in as many hours, he thought. Not too bad. With a little more hostility he might even be able to make them disgruntled. Maybe there was something to this bookshop thing. He continued with his game, and considered it further. One hour to go, he thought, and he started tapping his foot to the game’s music out of sheer infernal cheer.

Two-and-a-half hours into his shift, the bell above the door tinkled again. Crowley looked up, and then down. Faintly, an alarm bell sounded in the back of his brain.

An unattended child.

Oh, sure, they’d established that unattended children weren’t allowed, but Crowley was rapidly realizing that Aziraphale had not told him what to do in such a circumstance. The kid was looking at him, though, all wide green eyes and a messy red hair piled into an attempt at a ponytail. “Hi,” she said quietly.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you lost?”

The girl stepped back, toward the door, and then glanced into the street outside. “No,” she answered. “Um, my … my dad is out there talking to a friend, just there, and he said I could come in and look around.” Crowley thought about that. Well, she was just looking. Right? No harm in curiosity, he thought, without a trace of irony. Besides, she was probably … ten? Eleven? Thirteen? Somewhere in there. Crowley had never been good at guessing human ages, and he hadn’t gotten better with time. The girl looked worried. “That’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Crowley made a decision, and secretly hoped that Aziraphale would not mind or, even better, would never find out about it at all. “Yeah, s’fine. Just, ah, be careful with the books. They’re all … very old.” He looked to the children’s section. “Oh, except those back there. You can look at those.”

She looked to the indicated section, and then turned back to him, obviously slightly offended. “Those are for kids.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Yeah. Which is why I pointed them out.” He paused. “You are a kid, aren’t you?”

Scratch slightly offended, now she was clearly offended. “Yes I’m a kid. But I don’t like to read kid’s books.” She looked around. “What’s the oldest book here?”

Crowley shrugged. “Dunno. Not my shop. I just work here.”

She frowned. After a beat, she turned away, and started to wander the shelves, looking but not touching, studying the dusty spines and the gilded titles. Crowley watched her for a minute, and then settled back into his chair, even going so far as to pull his phone out as if to play his game, but he never started it. As inconspicuously as possible, which was very inconspicuous indeed for a 6000-year-old demon, he watched her. She would pause, now and then, in front of a book. He could see her hand twitch at her side, or clutch at her paisley skirt, but then she would think better of it, and move along the shelves, never touching anything, only looking.

Five minutes in, he asked, “So what kind of books do you read, if not kid’s books?” She looked at him over her shoulder.

“I like … books about history,” she settled on. “And. Well, and some kids books. If they’re good. If they have like, good magic in them and stuff.”

Ah, magic. Crowley squashed down the urge to nod. That was alright then. He was beginning to wonder if she was truly a human child, and not some kind of supernatural being that looked twelve-years-old but didn’t read kids’ books and had self-control more impressive than some adults. But no, magic was alright. Human kids loved magic.

“I like Lord of the Rings,” she went on, continuing her perusal of the shelves. “My dad always says he thinks it’s too complicated for me, but I read it anyway.”

“No harm in it,” Crowley agreed. He’d tried to read The Hobbit once, years ago, but he’d gotten bored ten pages in and promptly stuffed it into a shelf at Aziraphale’s shop, never to pick it up again. “Did you read all of them?”

She nodded, and this time when she looked at him, her eyes were a little brighter, a little less wary. “Nearly,” she said, eagerly. “I’m on the last one - The Return of the King. Did you read it?”

“Nah. Just saw the films.” Her face fell. “They were good films, though,” he added, somewhat unconsciously. “Er.”

She serpentined down an aisle, looking the books up and down, her hands alternatively playing with her hair, or picking at her skirt. “I don’t know what to read next,” she said, unprompted, right as Crowley decided she was probably alright, and anyway this level wasn’t going to beat itself.

“Huh?”

“After I finish the book, I mean.” She sighed, the troubled sigh of a pre-teen facing a significant personal crisis. “Mum says I should just re-read them, really savor the parts I liked best the first time around and maybe find even better ones the second go-round. But I want to read something new. I don’t feel like re-reading them right now.”

“Ah.”

She looked to him. “I was going to ask you for recommendations, since you work in a bookshop, but you haven’t read them.” She shrugged. “My maths teacher might know a good book for next. He gave me The Hobbit in the first place.”

“Maybe.” Crowley stared at his phone for a minute, and then, in a fit of benevolence that made him feel slightly nauseous, he got up, and crossed the shop toward the girl, hands in his pockets, studying the shelves she was in front of as he drew even with her. She watched him, carefully. “You like magic, you said? Good magic?”

“Not like stage stuff,” she clarified quickly, in case he had any designs of pulling a quarter from behind her ear or a length of scarves from his jacket. She did not know how near of a miss she had had in that department. “Like real magic.”

“Right, obviously.” He traced along a shelf of books, which were not organized by any recognizable system at all, and then stopped. He considered the book in front of his hand, apparently - A Brief History of the Sonnet, First Edition - and the girl looked dubious, before he reached between books, and pulled out another one, which had not, prior to that moment, looked like it could have existed. The girl blinked.

“Did you just - ?”

“Stage stuff,” he said, dismissively. “Old trick. Anyway, here. You might like this one.” She looked down to the cover, orange and battered, with a garishly-rendered suitcase on the front. With legs. And teeth. She raised her eyebrows. “It’s got real good, proper magic in it. And it’s funny.” She looked to him, and he shrugged. “I like funny ones.”

“Right.” She turned the book over, slowly, and then looked back to him, suspicious. “It doesn’t have a price tag. Where did you get this from, anyway?”

Crowley beamed. “A magician never tells his secrets, didn’t you know?” She gave him a look that suggested of course she did, and to stop being ridiculous. “Must have been an oversight, missing the tag. I think it was …” he licked his lips, under the guise of thinking, considered the strength of the metal smells coming from her backpack, and said, “Two pounds.”

“I don’t know if I have that.” Nevertheless, she carried the book up to the register, and plopped her bag down on the table to rummage through. “I’ve got ... “ she studied the handful of coins, and then looked to Crowley again, although this time there was an accusatory undertone to her look of amazement. “Exactly two pounds.”

“Lucky coincidence, then.” His watch clicked - three hours - and he glanced to the door. “You buying it or not?”

“Are you a wizard?”

“No.”

“Only you’re wearing all black, so if you are a wizard, you’re an evil wizard.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not a nazgul, are you?”

“I have no idea what that is,” said Crowley, completely honestly. “So I’d imagine not. Listen, you want the book or not? I bet you’ll like it.”

She looked from him - a hint of a glare, which was novel - to the book, and back to him. And then she laid the coins on the table. “Okay. But if I don’t like it, Mum always says I should ask for a refund.”

“You won’t get one here.” He pointed to the ‘Returns welcome,’ sign, and then miracled it to say ‘No refunds, no returns,’ hastily, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Wait that sign -”

Crowley didn’t hiss. He didn’t growl or do anything menacing. He’d already broken two rules of Aziraphale’s bookshop, and he’d be blessed if he’d break any more. Instead, he looked to the street, where the girl’s father apparently suddenly realized his daughter had been missing for the last twenty minutes, and looked into the shop, wide-eyed and bewildered, before he caught sight of her through the glass doors and waved.

“Oh, would you look at that! Looks like your dad’s looking for you, well, so sorry to see you go, but hope you enjoy the book -”

“You are a wizard!” the girl said, a broad grin spreading across her face, even as Crowley placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and started pushing her toward the door. “That’s not stage magic, I know it can’t be -”

“Not a wizard!” he interjected with forced cheerfulness. “Don’t tell anyone that! Definitely not a wizard! Goodbye!”

“Dad, this guy’s a wizard!” she said, pointing to Crowley, before he pointedly shut the door behind her. The girl’s father looked to her, and then to Crowley, through the glass of the door, and then smiled a tired smile, offering up a shrug as if to say, Kids, right? Crowley nodded, and then turned on his heel, heading straight back to his chair and his blessed game and the quiet bookshop where there were no children or customers and certainly no wizards.

He’d have to look up nazgul or whatever later.

When the bell tinkled again - again - five minutes later, Crowley did groan in exasperation, a little, but he bit it off before it hopefully became too noticeable. He looked up and Aziraphale, briefcase in hand, met his eyes. He looked, confused, from Crowley, to the change on the table, and back to Crowley.

“What did you do?”

Crowley stammered for a second and then managed, “Nothing.”

“You sold a book,” Aziraphale said, in a low voice. He looked back to the change. “You sold a book for two pounds.”

“I didn’t.”

“You sold a book to a …” he closed his eyes, and Crowley winced. He could feel the angel’s energy stretching out, feeling the space, reading the recent past as easily as Crowley might read a gossip magazine in the coffee shop checkout. Aziraphale’s eyes snapped open. “You sold a book to an unattended child!” He dropped the briefcase, the better to put his hands over his face. “Oh, Crowley.”

The demon sank into the chair a little. “Wasn’t one of yours,” he muttered, defensive.

“You’re going to tell me next the child saw you conjure a book out of nowhere?”

“No,” Crowley said, and it wasn’t a lie. He honestly had no intention of telling Aziraphale anything of the sort. “No, just, ah, said I’d nip around the back and get it. I got it from … somewhere else. Another shop.” He paused a minute, and considered that. “It was stealing. Very demonic.”

Aziraphale was looking at him with weariness, and possibly frustration, but that seemed to be softening to amusement more and more by the minute. “But it definitely wasn’t one of mine, was it?”

“Definitely not,” Crowley confirmed. “So really, I only broke one rule. And I did get two other customers to leave without buying anything, so overall a net win for my first day, don’t you think?” Aziraphale didn’t roll his eyes - not quite - but he did smile. “You get your book?”

Aziraphale sniffed. “It has a coffee stain in the middle of the fourth chapter. It’s going to take time to get it out. No miracles,” he said quickly, when Crowley opened his mouth. The demon’s mouth clicked back shut. “And would you believe the woman didn’t want to come down on the price at all, even with that? I spent the better part of the time negotiating with her over the value of a coffee stain on a book versus the value of the cup of coffee itself.” He sighed. “Honestly.”

Crowley nodded sympathetically. “The absolute gall.” He stood, made a show of stretching, and asked, “Since you’re back and all, I have a little errand of my own I need to run. Mind if I step out?”

Aziraphale frowned, and then nodded. “Of course not. Thank you,” he went on, his face softening into a smile, “for watching the shop, Crowley. Even if you did sell something.” He glanced behind him. “And … and changed the sign. What did you do?” He blinked when Crowley kissed the bridge of his nose, and then watched as the taller of them walked out the door with his typical swagger, without another word. He watched him go, smiling all the while, and then turned back to the change on the table. “You’re ridiculous,” he sighed to himself, in the bookshop, his smile never fading, before he swept the change into a donations tin by the register, and set about his new book.

Two blocks away, Crowley ducked into one of the chain bookshops, glancing furtively around before he did, in case Aziraphale had tailed him. With no puffy, wonderful, probably extremely judgy angel in sight, he slid through the door, and made a beeline for the sci-fi/fantasy section, careful not to make eye contact with anyone on his way through the store.

His personal collection was down by a book. He needed a replacement. He found it, there on the shelf, with the rest of the series, and picked it out, thumbing through the pages and not smiling when a favorite passage caught his eye. Definitely not smiling. He closed the book - probably time for a re-read, he thought - and turned to the door (certainly not the register - he might be going a little soft in his retirement, but not that soft), but he paused. Just a minute, he thought, and he wove through a few more shelves, pausing in front of a rather impressive display of The Lord of the Rings and all associated paraphernalia. He frowned. And then, under his breath and inaudible to anybody else within earshot, he said, “Oh, why not. Isn’t as if I don’t have time,” before he grabbed The Fellowship of the Ring off the shelf, and slithered out.

* No capital ‘A’ required.

** Meaning he showed up and nobody questioned his presence there.

*** He generally rested at a natural 9, but was capable of levels between 12 and 15 when pressed.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziraphale's bookshop #aziraphale doesn't sell books #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much

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irinanonyme · 6 years

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Hyun being called a "nosy bitch" is kinda unfair you people

Tbh it's kind of sad how everyone's turning their backs on Hyun just because he spread a rumor and said something creepy. Y'all over there overanalyzing the plot like it's some big budget Hollywood movie and saying that the writing is shit but the moment a character who's been, so far, lacking any flaws finally gets one everyone flips their shit and starts calling him "nosy bitch" and "hypocrite". Btw I'm talking about a *real* flaw, not something superficial like Candy's "clumsiness" or "unable to concentrate on her studies" while that's not it at all: she's just kind of an airhead and procrastinates a lot but also her job and "friends" ain't giving her time to breathe.

Until just recently people hated Hyun because he was "too nice" and "too perfect" but now that we see *one* bad side of his you guys start calling him names and still hating him even though you were the ones to ask him to get a character flaw? Like??? What the actual fuck guys? What do you want then? Who are the hypocrites now? Y'all can just go ahead and say that you won't like Hyun either way instead of pulling reasons outta your asses everytime he does something right or something wrong. I even saw someone calling him the worst character in mcl? Bro. No. That ain't how it works. This guy is so fucking nice to the point where he left free food to Candy in the fridge knowing that he won't be able to make it to work since he's sick but *still* ended up coming to work with his fever because he was worried and when his roommate wanted to stay with his boyfriend Hyun left the room to them and slept God knows where (also since he has to Skype his parents it seems like his family lives really far away and it's been strongly hinted that the reason why he got the cold in the first place was because he had to sleep somewhere other than his room, so maybe outside or some shit). It's funny how the moment the guy did one thing wrong everyone forgot all his good doings.

And it's not like this is the first time he did something "creepy", you guys aren't even looking into it quite enough yet: not many might know this because you have to select the right options to get this dialogue but when Candy got her job at the cafe and asked Hyun about what he meant by "the other resumes didn't get past the trashcan" (I'm translating this directly from French so I'm not sure how it was in English) Hyun says that he rigged the whole thing and kept only Candy's resume because he wanted to work with someone of his age. So yeah. Ain't the first time he did something wrong in his life guys.

#my candy love #mcl #my candy love campus life #hyun #y'all just quick to blame and be salty #have thicker skin

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seojvns · 5 years

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everything you didn’t care to know about seojun yoon.

basic statistics.

full name: seojun yoon.

nickname: jun, junnie, seo.

how'd they get it?: they’re just... variations of his name...

age: twenty one.

date of birth: april 27th.

zodiac: taurus.

gender: male.

sexual orientation: pansexual.

when did they realize this?: around the age he started being interested in people. it’s never been something he’s struggled with, it’s jus how things were/are.

nationality: american.

hometown: daejeon, south korea.

current residence: cortland, wisconsin.

occupation: freelance photographer.

for how long?: umm, probably since high school?? he started out doing it for free, to build his resume, and over time he began building it into something he could actually make money from. not much, but !! getting paid for doing something he loves?? really couldn’t ask for more than that.

do they like his/her job?: obvs!!! does he wish he could have a lot more clients?? ya, but he’s patient and he’s got the time.

salary: mm, depends on the job but probably anywhere from $150-250/job.

family.

any significant ancestors?: ummmm, no.

grandparents (describe relationship): he was really close to his grandmother, on his mom’s side, who passed away a few years ago. he’s close to his grandfather from that side too, but he’s a bit old fashioned in his views and sometimes conversations are... not really something he can take much from. but he likes his company, and overall they have a good relationship. his grandparents on his father’s side both died before he really got a chance to even know them.

aunts/uncles (describe relationship): there’s definitely a distance. when he was younger, he’d see more of them, and his cousins too, but as he grew up... it became less of a tradition his parents and his aunts/uncles bothered to keep up with. he sees them at family gatherings, usually around holidays, but that’s about it.

parents (describe relationship): there’s a lot of distance between him and his parents. his father’s always been distant, even at a young age he wasn’t very invested in seojun. but he’d buy him things, assuming that was a decent enough way to show his ‘love,’ but it only made seojun resentful of the money he tried to use in an attempt to get out of actually caring or showing interest. his mother, on the other hand, cared. but only when he was young. from the time he was adopted, at age five, until about eleven. after that she became more disinterested in him. she also started nitpicking him a lot?? like no snacks, finding a poem and critiquing it, etc. support wasn’t something he was given, which is why he’s become such a desperate lil people pleaser.

are they still together?: yes, yep.

what is the character's family life like: it was really lonely growing up, cause even if everyone was home they’d all be off doing their own things. usually seojun was in his room writing, or out exploring and taking photos. he probably would’ve found his way to his hobbies regardless, but their neglect definitely encouraged him to explore them in a way he might not have done much sooner.

what does their family love most about them?: hmm, probably his manners. he’s a good boy and he’d never embarrass them or anything when they drag him to events or parties, so, yeah!

hate?: they see him as too shy, and lacking of a personality, but really that’s just because they’ve kind of made him feel like he should just keep quiet and do what he’s told :/ and that’s exactly what he does.

does the family have a specific set of values?: his parents are very much the type of people who want everything to look perfect on the outside, and not care much about how they actually are on the inside.

what would their family be described like by another person?: reserved, well put together, successful.

have they ever had any pets?: he did! he had a dog, a samoyed, which he got from his parents for his seventh birthday. his name was ghost,, original, i know!

what happened to them?: he died a few years ago :/ it was a rly rough time for jun, who basically had him throughout his entire childhood.

relationships.

are they a virgin?: umm, nope.

how did they lose it?: i’m embarrassed just thinkin abt it.

have they ever cheated on a partner?: never would he ever!!!

has a partner ever cheated on them?: probably.

how did they react?: better question - did he ever find out? doubtful.

who was their first crush?: hard to say :/ he gets a new crush everyday :/

are they in any kind of romantic relationship?: no!!

how serious/relaxed is it?: hmph.

describe the relationship with their current partner: this is... pointless...

how did they meet?: why ask so many questions based on the POTENTIAL of him bein in a relationship...

who made the first move?: prob not seojun in any situation ... he’s not very bold

how does your character truly feel about their partner?: this.... is so redundant...

when did they realize this?: thank u, next!

who is your characters closest friend?: minnie uwu

how did they meet?: umm they’ve been bffs for as long as seojun can remember okay!!! so how they met is just one of those things he doesn’t... rly remember bc it feels like he’s known her his WHOLE entire life, u know??

why do they get along so well?: because they’re both cute and soft and they just vibe together well ok,, why question these things?? there’s been so many late nights up talking about anything n everything, so many heartbreaks that she’s been there for, so many adventures they’ve had n have yet to have... she’s his other half!!! <333

describe relationship with any other significant friends: adrian’s one of the most important ppl to him ?? like ever?? cause he’s jun’s best friend but also a lot more than that. even though they can’t seem to get things right, he’s always gonna have feels for adrian. kian......... gross where do i even begin!!!! seojun would literally die for kian. he’s more than his roomie ok seojun’s so disgustingly attached that no matter what kian did he’d never leave his side lmao #dedicated. jiwon is who seojun would be if he could choose his life sjfsfks she’s jus so,, uwu perfect n everything he aspires to be. he LUVS her even tho she can lowkey be a lil scary?? not in like a way that he’s legit scared but like... she can be intimidating a lil bit. rt if u agree

favorites.

favorite foods: sushi, korean fried chicken, fries.

least favorite food: black licorice, celery.

favorite colors: pale yellow and light pink.

least favorite color: whatever the fuck u call the color blue that tumblr chose for the new bg color fksdjfs

music: pop, r&b.

literature: mysteries!!

smell: honeysuckles, bonfires, fresh bread.

feeling: affection uwu

season: autumn.

pets: dogs, but... he loves cats too :/

place: hmm, he’s really drawn to the woods?? like when he was younger he’d go into the woods with his camera and a book and just spend all fucking day out there. there’s something really peaceful about it ?? and there’s just so much to experience... the woods jus make him soft, k??

favorite sport(s): huh

possession this character values most: his camera!!!!!!!! his journals filled with poems about everyone he knows.

why is it so important to them?: um, his camera is p obvious?? his poetry filled journals, well, that’s p obvious too. he doesn’t want to forget how he felt in the moments where he was inspired to write whatever he wrote.

physical characteristics.

height: 5′8′‘.

weight: 130 lbs.

body build: slim.

eye color: brown.

glasses or contact lenses?: contact lenses, but sometimes he’ll wear his glasses when he’s feelin’ lazy.

hair color: naturally it’s black, but he prob keeps it either light pink or blond.

scent: tbh idk what to answer for this, describing someone’s natural scent... hard.

voice: he’s got a soft voice :/

mannerisms: says ‘um’ and ‘uh’ too much, whining about nothing, watching anything/everything with subtitles, turns the tab on a soda can sideways.

style: comfy clothing mostly?? like loose fitting tops and form fitting bottoms.

how do they walk?: like a fucking model tbh???

what are their nervous tics: he’s blushing 99% of the time tbh,, nose scrunches, averting his gaze

usual body posture: umm, i’d say he’s got p good posture?? idk,,

preferred clothing.

underwear: boxer briefs babey!

shirts: loose!! t-shirts, flannels, hoodies. anything oversized.

pants: usually black jeans, like, 9 times out of 10.

skirts: nah.

jackets: more oversized shit.

shoes: prob jus black boots?

accessories: earrings, rings, make up. make up isn’t an accessory rly but i dunno where else to put that so yayuh that’s a thing.

formal wear: umm he’s a classic black suit kinda guy, prob w a bowtie, idk.

sleeping wear: t-shirts and boxer briefs,, do ppl ... actually have real pajamas? like in real life?

swimming wear: swim trunks ig?? weird question but ok.

intellectual/mental/personality attributes and attitudes.

did they go to school?: ya, duh.

where?: west bridge!!!

what did they learn?: he’s studying photography :-)

what were their grades like?: uh, they’re alright... could be better... he wants to do better but his focus is usually just... anywhere but where it should be. so he procrastinates, and turns in things late a lot, and still is trying to do better.

native language: korean.

do they know any other languages?: english.

how smart are they?: not... very... both book smart and street smart.

what is their strengths?: creativity, generosity, compassion.

weaknesses?: time management, insecurity, awareness.

character's short-term goals in life: don’t go to jail, pass all classes.

character's long-term goals in life: have a lil photography studio and live happily ever after uwu

how does your character see themselves?: umm, he’s self aware enough to know that he’s kind of sheepish?? he feels like he’s probably awkward in,, so many situations, rip, but he tries his best to not be too weird skfjs

how does your character believe they are perceived by others?: as a soft boy who wants to be everyone’s friend?? hopefully??

how self-confident is your character?: UM LOL NOT AT ALL

what makes their self-confidence waver?: everything,, he just never feels like he’s good enough?? prob because of his mom’s nitpicking, his parents’ lack of interest generally, and the fact that he just has a low self esteem overall.

what would embarrass your character the most?: being put on the spot about anything, having too much attention, falling for someone who doesn’t like him.

how does your character feel about love: he!! loves love!!! he rly thinks that there’s someone out there for everyone... maybe not in a ~soulmates~ sense, but he thinks that companionship is a big part of happiness.

about crime: he doesn’t commit crimes... often... but if he does it’s because he can be talked into almost anything.

people of a different sexuality?: loves everyone, thanks.

different nationality/race?: loves everyone, thanks.

how does your character show affection/love?: listening to them n remembering things they’re told, hand holding, doing literally anything they ask.

how does your character handle grief? not well. especially in the case of manon, which has left him with a terrible sleeping pattern and the heavy feeling of guilt.

what are they like when they cry?: prob like really dramatic,, like cry a lot while curled up in his bed under the covers kinda cry.

what can make them cry?: betrayal, loss, anxiousness, stress.

how does your character handle physical pain?: not well, he probably whines a lot and pouts even more.

emotional pain?: even worse. he’s so forgiving that even if someone hurt him emotionally, he’d forgive them, but he’d probably be lowkey sad (but in a self blame kind of way) about it for awhile.

is your character typically a leader or a follower?: big time follower.

what kind of energy level does your character typically display?: soft, upbeat,

describe their sense of humor: prob either lame or softly sarcastic.

hobbies: takin pics, writing poems, making playlists for people that’ll never hear them, watching shows instead of studying.

talents: ...takin pics, writing poems, making playlists for people that’ll never hear them...

extremely unskilled at: focusing! and sports.

if any, what musical instruments can they play?: piano :-)

emotional characteristics.

how does the character relate to others?: through soft interactions and deep conversations. he’s pretty honest and open, so if someone asks him something, or even just talks to him, chances are he’s being as open with them as he would be with his close friends.

how does the character deal with anger?: not well, but when he’s angry, he’s usually more upset than angry? and he wants to resolve things as quickly as possible, otherwise he’s stressed abt it until it’s fixed.

with sadness?: listens to sad music and cries in the shower. drama queen.

with conflict?: he’s always the first to apologize.

with change?: he’s actually pretty adaptable for the most part?? but if it were like a major change, maybe not as good.

with loss?: ummm, could be better!! probably gets a lil distant when he’s dealing with a loss.

what does your character want out of life?: happiness :/

what would your character like to change in his/her life?: the whole manon thing JFKLSF

what motivates your character?: his future, or at least the ideal future he has in mind for himself.

what frightens your character?: the fact that they could get caught for covering up a murder perhaps??? terrifying.

are they afraid of the dark?: ...yes, but he acts like he isn’t cause he’s embarrassed.

death?: not really?? like he doesn’t WANT to die or anything, but he’s not afraid of death.

what makes your character happy?: listening to good music, giving people things that make him think of them, the photo editing process.

sad?: being alone, the fact that his parents never care to check up on him, films where the main couple doesn’t end up together.

angry?: people being rude to his friends, being lied to, unnecessarily passive aggressive people.

aroused?: neck kisses, being called baby, someone who’s rly direct and just kind of... does what they want skjfsl

annoyed?: people who speak over other people.

guilty?: covering up a potential murder, turning things in late, lying.

is your character judgmental of others?: no. even if he doesn’t agree with their opinions/things they do he still tries to refrain from judgment.

is your character generous or stingy?: generous af.

is your character generally polite or rude?: polite!! angel boy.

optimistic or pessimistic?: optimistic.

introvert or extrovert?: lil bit of both??

daredevil or cautious?: cautious.

logical or emotional?: emotional lmao.

disorderly and messy or methodical and neat?: he thinks he’s methodical and neat but he’s actually disorderly and messy.

would they rather be working or relaxing?: working, even though he thinks he’d rather be chillin he’s kind of terrible at doing nothing.

how do they feel about animals?: um... he loves them?? he’s the kind of person that’d accidentally let a raccoon in his house and let it stay.

what is their best quality?: his sincerity.

what is their biggest flaw?: how trusting he is.

#sjflskf what do i even tag this as #about.#u kno those myspace surveys ppl used to do #like in bulletin boards?#that's kinda what this felt like #v relaxing

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contentwithit · 5 years

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Frozen, also a bonus rant.

Today I froze, I froze like a deer in the headlights, I feel panicked and I can’t seem to shake it, I need to apply for a job, I have the resume all written I have to just add a cover letter easy peasey right? Wrong. I’m so anxious I just want to hide. I wish I had never been born, I am of course overreacting that’s one of the things that makes anxiety happen. In my head I know, get a few thoughts together write out a cover letter, I even have someone who can look at it for me, I should just relax and do it. but I just feel frozen.

Well procrastinating I went to the college today, and got a book so I can do the equivalency tests for grade 12. I need to upgrade that, putting grade 11 on a resume makes me feel stupid, I’m not stupid, I study things, I enjoy learning, I’m in theatre, I work with all sorts of math and know plenty of things. I’m not the best writer, as you probably have noticed, but in general I’m a person you can have an intelligent conversation with.

Here comes the bonus rant.

The whole idea of diplomas and degrees really makes me annoyed, because I hate everything about the world, and how it’s run. Politics reminds me so much of school, you hear how politicians talk about one another? Instead of tackling the issues together, they bitch how the other person doesn’t handle something that they want handled. And not only that they resort to name calling, here’s an example I heard recently, someone calling Trudeau a “trust fund baby” because you think their opinion on lower income taxes is misguided because they answered a question quickly, jumping all over them instead of understanding what they were trying to say, or giving the person a chance to clarify what they meant. It’s just a way of making people perceive you as smarter and them as dumber. I look at the politicians and I see people who are all meant to cast a shadow over things, instead of bringing things into the light.

That’s all the tumblring I’m doing for now, I’m going to write that cover letter send it off for checking even if it takes me all night, then tomorrow I’ll send it in. wish me luck and if you want to send hugs I could totally use one.

#anxiety #stress #job search #bonus rant

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twistedscandal · 5 years

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Title: Netflix and No Chill

Pairing: Bonnie Bennett/Kai Parker

Summary: Bonnie and her friends are supposed to be gathering at Lockwood Manor for Halloween to watch scary movies with Kai. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: None really. A little language.

A/N: I come from a long line of procrastinators, but this is ridiculous. The Vampire Diaries was still on the air when I started writing this. Then I thought I would revise it and post if for this year's bookai week on tumblr and I still didn't finish until now. So now I am posting a Halloween fic on the day after Thanksgiving. Shameful. I stopped watching the show during season five then picked back up for bonkai in season six then stopped again when I realized they were only going to continue to pay Bonnie dust, so I apologize for any details I may have gotten wrong. This fic contains vague spoilers for a couple of old movies.

It didn’t really surprise Bonnie that Halloween would be one of Kai’s favorite holidays and he had gone all out with the decorations. The pumpkin under Bonnie’s arm seemed to grow even heavier when she realized how unnecessary it was to have brought it. The winding driveway leading up to the front door was already littered with jack o lanterns. Each one bearing a different, grotesque carved expression. The front porch was covered with fake spiderwebs, cartoon cut outs of witches and skeletons posed in a variety of compromising positions. He had done his best to make Lockwood Manor look like a haunted house. Bonnie thought the outside of the house looked sufficiently spooky but knew it didn’t compare to the scariness of the monster currently dwelling inside.

The post it note stuck to the front door read, “Come on in” in Kai’s neat, blocky handwriting; a demented looking smiley face hastily drawn in the corner. Bonnie let herself into the Lockwood house, trying to ignore the general sense of unease that had been hovering over her all day. It was bad enough that they were even having a get together here in the first place but the fact that somehow, she was the only one whose schedule would allow her to get there first and get things set up left a sour taste in her mouth.

It had been a while since Bonnie and her friends had all been in the same room for reasons that weren’t life threatening, so Elena had suggested that with Halloween approaching, it would be a great time to get together and watch a bunch of scary movies. Horrible events that were confined to a screen and happening to other people seemed like a nice change of pace. Also, the thought of a get together that had almost zero potential to end in bloodshed was appealing.

There was one problem however, they didn’t really have anywhere to host said movie night. The dorm room was too small, casa Gilbert was no more and neither Bonnie or Caroline had stepped foot in their homes in over a year; there were too many memories of lost loved ones in the places they grew up to imagine going to either place for a party.

Not even the boarding house was a viable option. Stefan and Damon’s big, beautiful flat screen had been broken during some fight or other and they hadn’t bothered to buy another one to replace it. Neither of them watched a lot of tv anyway. Bonnie supposed that drunken housewives, cooking shows and whatever teenage love triangle tripe the CW was offering, didn’t have much appeal when you were over 100 years old.

There was a tv in Damon’s bedroom that he claimed he only used to “hate-watch” Grey’s Anatomy. Bonnie wondered if it really was hate-watching though, considering how misty-eyed Damon got when McDreamy bit it. That was all beside the point because there was no way Bonnie, Stefan, Caroline, Damon and Elena were all going to cram into Damon’s bedroom (can you say awkward) to watch movies anyway.

They were kind of stumped until Caroline suggested an alternative: “Why not just go to Kai’s place?” And by Kai’s place she meant Tyler’s. Kai had been squatting on the Lockwood property for so long that people had actually started referring to it as his. Bonnie had objected, but of course she had been unanimously overruled. There really weren’t any better choices and the Lockwood estate did have an actual home theater.

Apparently socializing with Kai was a small price to pay for cushioned seats and surround sound.

Bonnie was less than thrilled about the situation but determined not to let having to be around Kai ruin the evening.

She made her way to the kitchen, put down the pumpkin, shrugged out of her coat and began to unpack the grocery bag she’d brought with her. She laid tomatoes, onions, garlic, jalapenos, cilantro and a couple of limes on the island and got a cutting board off the counter. She searched around for a bowl and found one in the cabinet over the stove. Bonnie stretched up onto the tips of her toes and had just about gotten her finger hooked over the edge of the bowl when it suddenly seemed to move further back out of her reach.

Bonnie leaned further in and just when she got her hand on the bowl, once again it seemed to move closer to the back of the cabinet. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Stop it, Kai.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Kai appeared so suddenly that Bonnie wondered if he had cloaked himself and been standing there watching her all the while. He had perfected the art of casually draping himself in doorways and there he stood, his hair damp, his chest bare and a black t-shirt thrown over his shoulder.

Bonnie turned to face him full on. “I know you moved that bowl out of my reach.”

“Come on, Bonnie,” Kai said attempting and failing to look innocent. “Do I seem like the kind of person to engage in that sort of pointless and immature behavior?”

“Yes, Kai. You seem exactly like that sort of person because you are exactly that sort of person.”

“Don’t be like that. I was just having a little fun and I don’t see what the big deal is anyway. You do remember that you’re a witch, right? You could have floated the stupid thing right into your hands.”

“Yeah, well not all of us witches are powerful coven leaders with magic to spare.”

“You’re a Bennett. I seriously doubt that moving a bowl would tire you out.” Kai scoffed.

“Whatever. My Grams taught me that it was a waste of energy to use magic for anything that I could do like a normal person.”

Kai gave Bonnie an incredulous look. “That’s terrible advice. You’re not normal; you’re extraordinary. Try acting like it and you might actually have some fun once in a while.”

Bonnie ignored Kai, turning her back to him while she made another grab for the bowl.

“You are the most hard headed person I’ve ever met in my life.” Kai slid in behind Bonnie and reached over her to pull the bowl down from the cabinet.

Bonnie’s breath caught in her chest as she felt his body move against hers. For just a moment something in her brain went sideways and she wondered what it might feel like to lean back onto Kai’s muscular frame; to let herself be overwhelmed by the warmth of his body and the clean soapy smell emanating from his skin. The moment passed as quickly as it came though and her common sense clicked back into place as she elbowed Kai in the stomach. “Are you even vaguely familiar with the concept of personal space?”

The bowl clanged against the counter as Kai unceremoniously dropped it from his hand. “Are you familiar with the concept of saying thank you?”

“As if I would ever thank you for anything.” Bonnie grabbed a knife and began chopping tomatoes. She watched Kai out the corner of her eye, thankful as he finally shrugged into his t shirt and pulled it down over his torso.

He leaned against the island, his dark blue eyes locked on Bonnie. “So, you’re the only one here?”

“Do you see anybody else?”

“The rest of the scooby gang is actually coming though, right?”

“Of course they are. Why would you even ask me that?”

“I’m just trying to make sure that I’m not being lured into some type of Netflix and chill situation.”

Bonnie knew that she shouldn’t be, but she was continuously amazed by some of the nonsense that made its way out of Kai’s mouth. “First of all, ew. Second of all, what the hell would you know about Netflix and chill?”

“Call it whatever you want, but inviting someone over under the pretense of watching a movie just so you can get them alone in a dark room and start making moves is a tale as old as time. I’m sure there was some Neanderthal back in the day trying to get a woman to come over for cave drawings and chill.”

“Elena and Damon are at the grocery store getting more snacks.”

Kai’s eyebrows shot straight up. “You’re letting those two be in charge of the food? Don’t be too surprised if they show up with nothing but a bag of gummy bears, a few pints of o-negative and a gallon of bourbon. What about vampire Barbie and Ken? Where are they?”

“If you’re talking about Stefan and Caroline, he’s picking her up from Whitmore. She has a late class on Fridays. They should all be here in a little while. You and I will not be alone and your virtue, such as it is, shall remain intact.”

Kai made a dramatic show of rolling his eyes. “Bummer.” A hint of a smile danced around his lips. “I’ll be right back.” He bounced out of the kitchen, humming to himself.

Bonnie resumed chopping tomatoes and wondered if that was going to be the new normal for her interactions with Kai. Ambiguous (and potentially sinister) hovering had been replaced with flagrant (and terrible) attempts at flirting.

Kai returned to the kitchen a few moments later. He took a couple of beers out of the fridge and opened them; he put one bottle down in front of Bonnie as he took a long drink from the other. “What are you making?”

“Salsa.”

“I’ve heard that there’s places called grocery stores where they sell salsa already made in jars.”

“Do you really want to be a smart ass while I have this knife in my hand?”

Kai ignored Bonnie’s threat. “Want some help?”

“No.”

Kai washed his hands then grabbed another knife from the butcher’s block. He stood beside Bonnie and began working on an onion.

Bonnie, understandably, was still somewhat wary of Kai with a sharp object in his hand, but after her initial apprehension passed they worked in a somewhat companionable silence. She thought it might not be so bad after all. Her friends would be there soon and then there would be four people to buffer the space between her and Kai. Damon especially always seemed quite eager to provide a barrier between Bonnie and Kai, both metaphorically and physically. All she had to do was hold on and hope that he could be quiet for just a little while longer.

“Hey, Bon.” Kai’s voice cut into Bonnie’s thoughts; she should have known him being quiet wasn’t going to last. “May I ask you a personal question?”

“If I say no, aren’t you just going to ask me anyway?”

“You know me so well. How come you and Dudley Do Right never hooked up?”

“Why do you keep calling him that? You know his name is Matt.”

Kai stared at Bonnie as though she had said something ridiculous. “And you know that I don’t care. Stop trying to change the subject.”

“There is no subject because I never agreed to have this conversation in the first place.” Bonnie put down her knife and looked at Kai, curiosity getting the better of her. “Why do you want to know anyway?”

Kai shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just curious. He’s around. You’ve known him forever. You’re hot. He’s hot.”

Bonnie raised an eyebrow at Kai. “You think Matt is hot?”

“I’m very comfortable with who I am so I’ve got no problem saying another guy is attractive. Young Matthew is quite handsome; in a bland, generic, Sears catalog model kind of way.”

“How is it that even your compliments manage to be insults?”

“Just one of my many God given talents.”

“I doubt that God has anything to do with any of your so-called talents.”

“I can’t really argue with that. Now let’s get back on topic, Bonbon. Do you not think Matt is cute or were you worried you two would bore each other into a coma?”

“I don’t know.” Bonnie said while shrugging her shoulders. “I guess I’ve always thought of Matt in a brotherly way. Not to mention the fact that he and Elena were attached at the hip for as long as I could remember. Even after they broke up it was hard not to think of him as her boyfriend. Then he was with Caroline and had that thing with Rebekah. After that….” Bonnie voice trailed off.

Kai leaned in closer. “What?” Bonnie shook her head and looked away. “Come on, tell me.”

“I don’t know.” Odd as it was, it felt good to finally voice her feelings out loud. Kai obviously would not have been her first choice for a confidante but at the very least she knew she could tell him anything, he wouldn’t judge and wouldn’t share it with anyone else.

“Matt’s a great guy but there’s never really been any kind of spark between us and even if there had been, I’m not interested in being anyone else’s second or third or in Matt’s case, fourth, choice. Been there, done that and it wasn’t a whole lot of fun. The next relationship I’m in I need to know that I’m not somebody’s consolation prize because they wanted someone else and settled for me. I need to be somebody’s first choice.”

Kai was silent for a moment. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Again, even if I say no, you’re just going to keep talking anyway.”

Kai shot a couple of finger guns in Bonnie’s direction. “Exactly.”

“In that case sure,” Bonnie said, her voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. “I’d love to hear a secret.”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend before.”

“Shocking.” Bonnie responded in a deadpan tone.

“I know right. These boyish good looks and devilish charms, I should have been beating the ladies off with a stick.”

Bonnie wondered if her sarcasm had truly gone over Kai’s head or if he was simply choosing to ignore it. “Not what I meant, at all, but okay.”

“My father tried to keep it under wraps for as long as he could but by the time I was fourteen word was out amongst the coven that I was a magical dud and a budding sociopath to boot, so none of those girls were exactly beating a path to my door. Combine that with dear old dad’s insistence that the family not fraternize with outsiders and that added up to a very empty social calendar for yours truly.”

“So, you never went out with anybody? You didn’t have any friends?”

“Not really. Sometimes I used to sneak into town. As useless and unbearable as I found most of the other kids in the coven, I’ve got to admit that nobody can conjure up a better fake ID than a bunch of bored, repressed teenage witches. And it’s not like we were going to snitch on each other. We all snuck into town. The atmosphere in the coven was suffocating; I wasn’t the only one that needed to get out and breathe every once in a while. Wouldn’t have really mattered if I got caught anyway. I was already a lost cause in my dad’s eyes. I didn’t have anything to lose.”

Kai fell silent as a faraway look crept into his eyes. It was almost like he had forgotten Bonnie was even still in the room; like his mind had gone somewhere else entirely.

“Kai?” Bonnie spoke hoping to jar him from his thoughts.

He sparked back to life. “Anyway, it was nice to get out and talk to people that didn’t know. Hadn’t already decided what I was and what I wasn’t. Sometimes it was just enough to be around somebody that didn’t flinch if I tried to touch them.”

Despite her best efforts, Bonnie sometimes felt herself softening towards Kai. At the very least she felt sorry for the person he could have been had he been born with his own magic or born into a family that could have loved him and taught him to love himself without it. Her sympathy however dissipated quickly when she recalled the look in his eyes as he had stabbed her.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Right. My point was that I’ve never had a real relationship before, so if I have one whoever I’m with would be my first choice.” He shyly dropped his eyes a way from hers. “My only choice.”

Awkward, Bonnie thought to herself. She hoped Kai wasn’t expecting some sort of response from her because she was literally speechless. She had given up on pretending that Kai didn’t have some sort of weird thing for her but that didn’t mean she was willing to discuss it with him or anyone else anytime soon.

Bonnie looked away from Kai to check her phone. It had been more than enough time for one of the couples coming to have shown up by now. Not only had no one come, she hadn’t gotten any messages or calls either. “Where are they? I wonder if something happened.”

“Please if something happened to any of them they would have already called you begging for help by now, wouldn’t they?”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right, but still maybe- “

“Maybe nothing,” Kai said cutting Bonnie off. “Your friends have the attention spans of rabid billy goats; anything could be distracting them. I say we finish making what is sure to be some very delicious salsa, grab some chips, go downstairs and start on our first movie. I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough.”

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

Bonnie and Kai were settled into the reclining seats with chips, Bonnie’s salsa, a bowl of popcorn and a big bag of Twizzlers sitting on the seat between them. Kai had insisted on dimming the lights for an authentic movie watching experience, so the only real light in the room was emanating from the screen.

It came as no surprise whatsoever that Kai was the type to talk through movies.

“I’m confused.”

“About what?”

“Are we not supposed to know that the boyfriend is the killer?”

“Really, Kai? This movie has only been on for twenty minutes. You’re not supposed to say who the killer is.”

“But I am right, aren’t I? Besides it’s not like I’m spoiling it for you. I’m the one that’s never seen this before.”

“That’s not the point. Will you be quiet?”

“If they don’t want you to guess the killer right away, they could have been a little subtler. I mean look at him. The greasy hair, the chock full of crazy eyes. I know a sociopath when I see one.”

“Well you know what they say. Takes one to know one.”

“Exactly.”

“Please shut up.”

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

The first movie had ended and still Elena and Damon nor Caroline and Stefan had shown up yet. Bonnie had tried calling all of them and had only been able to get their voice mails.

“Knowing them you know what they’re probably doing.”

“What are you talking about Kai?”

He wiggled his eyebrows in suggestive manner. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Let’s start another movie.”

Amazingly Kai was able to remain quiet until the end of the second movie. “I knew he was dead all along.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“You’re right, they got me pretty good with that one. People must have freaked out back in the day.”

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

By the time the third movie started Kai’s chatterbox tendencies had rubbed off on Bonnie. “You do realize that these movies make absolutely no sense. Mrs. Vorhees goes on a murderous rampage to avenge Jason’s death in the first movie, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, Jason goes on a murderous rampage to avenge her death in all the rest of the movies.”

“Do you have a point, Bonnie?”

“If Jason wasn’t dead what was Mrs. Vorhees so pissed off about in the first place? If he was dead, how did he come back to life? Is he a ghost? A zombie? Every single movie other than the first one is utter nonsense because they ruin the entire premise of the series.”

“I. . .” Kai opened his mouth and then immediately closed it again. For the first time since Bonnie met him he had been rendered speechless. “I’ll be damned. I grew up watching these and I never even thought about that. Stop trying to ruin my childhood.”

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

Bonnie awoke with a start. It took a minute for her to get her bearings and remember where she was. She sat up slowly, the odd angle she’d fallen asleep at had caused a crook in her neck. The room was mostly dark as the last movie that she and Kai had been watching had long since ended. She checked the time on her phone and was surprised to see that it was just after midnight. Clearly, her friends had never shown up. She wanted to be more concerned, but it wasn’t like this was the first time they’d ditched her with no warning.

Bonnie looked over at Kai. He was turned sideways in his seat with his cheek against the headrest. She was taken aback at how young and innocent he looked. She supposed even the devil himself might look harmless while sleeping. She reached across the seat between them and shook his arm. “Kai, wake up.” When she got no response, she stood up and went closer; leaning over him and poking his shoulder.

Kai suddenly jolted awake, the contents of the half empty soda can in his hand splashing up onto Bonnie’s shirt in the process. He started apologizing immediately. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Calm down. I know it was an accident.” Bonnie was surprised by the horrified look on Kai’s face. She wondered where this sort of apologetic energy had been after he’d shot her with an arrow.

Bonnie grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at her shirt, but it wasn’t doing her much good. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I always keep a change of clothes in my car.” Life in Mystic Falls had taught Bonnie to be prepared for anything. “I’m just gonna grab a clean shirt.”

Kai followed behind Bonnie as she left the room. “It’s not that bad, is it? You don’t need to leave.”

“It’s cold and it’s sticky.”

“You can just wear something of mine.” Kai almost seemed to be pleading with her to not go outside.

“What is your problem? I’m not leaving, okay. I’ll come back.” And as much as the words leaving her mouth surprised her, Bonnie also knew that she meant them wholeheartedly. She didn’t want to leave. Despite herself she’d been having the best time she’d had in a while and genuinely did not want the night to end.

“I’ll grab a fresh shirt, come back and we can start another movie. Why don’t you go ahead and start up Nightmare on Elm Street and I can tell you all the things wrong with it too? It’ll be fun.”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“Bonnie, wait.”

“What?”

“I just want to say that I had a really good time with you tonight.”

“Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye? I told you I’m coming back.”

“I know.”

Bonnie shook her head. “Weirdo.” She made a detour through the kitchen to grab her keys off the counter before making her way outside. As soon as she reached her car, her phone started going crazy.

Kai was leaning against the kitchen counter when Bonnie re-entered the house. “You know, I would have expected better from a mega powerful coven leader.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bonnie had to admit that Kai’s poker face was world class. If she didn’t know for a fact what he had done his innocent act would have been quite effective.

“I’m talking about the fact that if you had extended the boundary of your spell just a few more feet down the driveway it would have taken me much longer to figure out what you’d done.”

“Still don’t have a clue.”

“Is this really how you want to play it? As soon as I stepped foot outside my phone started ringing. I have dozens of text messages and missed calls. Caroline, Stefan, Damon and Elena have been trying to get in touch with me all night. First, their cars wouldn’t start.”

“That sounds like a problem for Triple A. Don’t know what it has to do with me though.”

“In addition to their cars not starting, they’re bound where they are. Physically incapable of walking more than five feet away from where they are.”

“That’s crazy but strange things happen in this town all the time, am I right?”

“It was a spell Kai. A spell powerful enough to keep four supernatural beings in two different locations rooted to the spots they were standing on. How do you explain that?”

“So, it was a spell. It’s not like I’m the only other witch that’s ever blown through this one-horse town.”

“You’re not the only witch, but you’re the only one that would have done this.”

“Are you kidding? The Mystic Falls Scooby gang has collectively probably made enemies on every continent across the globe. Your bestie Damon alone can’t go two seconds without pissing somebody off. The list of people that might want to ruin their nights isn’t exactly short.”

“You can’t even do me the courtesy of just admitting what you’ve done?” Kai continued to stare at Bonnie, his arms crossed over his chest; his face completely blank. “I don’t know why I bother. I thought we were having a—" She stopped short realizing what she was about to say and pulling the words back into her mouth.

“Go ahead and finish. You thought we were having a good time and that’s because we were.” Kai stepped around the kitchen counter, closing the gap between Bonnie and himself. “Maybe I just wanted an opportunity to be alone with you and show you that I’m not some completely irredeemable monster. Maybe I wanted to be given half as much of a chance as you give everyone else. So maybe I bounced the cell phone signal away from this house. Maybe I bound those idiot friends of yours to the ground they were standing on, so they couldn’t leave.”

“So, you’re finally owning up?”

“I’m owning nothing. I’m just saying maybe I did those things.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I didn’t.”

“You are so full of shit, Kai.”

“I can tell you one thing I definitely didn’t do. I didn’t do anything to make you stay. You weren’t bound in any way shape or form. None of your friends showed up and you were free to leave at any point, but you didn’t. You sat with me all night watching a bunch of dumb scary movies for no other reason except that you wanted to. There was no trick to it. You were genuinely enjoying my company more than you thought you would and more than you want to admit. I think that’s the part that probably pisses you off the most.”

Bonnie opened her mouth but closed it just as quickly. She was at a loss for a comeback because she couldn’t honestly deny anything Kai had just said. She would have been able to feel it if he had worked any magic against her and there had been nothing. They had laughed and talked, watched movies and taken a nap and she would have come back for more, if only he hadn’t done what he’d done.

This was all a little more than Bonnie was willing or able to process at the moment. “I’m out of here.” Bonnie grabbed her coat off the counter and stalked towards the living room. She turned back to look at Kai one last time before walking out the door. He was leaning back against the kitchen counter, arms dangling loosely by his sides. The air of defeat around him was almost palpable. She paused for a moment almost subconsciously willing him to say something, but he remained silent.

As the door shut behind her, she faintly heard Kai’s voice. “Happy Halloween, Bonnie.”

#bonkai #bonkai fiction #bookai2k18

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seriouslytryingtoeatclean · 5 years

Text

In all seriousness I am obviously joking.

If you’re truly thinking about being healthier going into this new year, fuck. yes. Join the cool kids’ club.

If you’re dealing with some kind of addiction or vice standing between you and good health, please scroll down to the post right below this one and buckle up for not-the-most-compassionate-but-still-very-heartfelt real talk.

If you’re just looking to maybe adopt some healthier eating habits and lose a few lbs...

You.

Got.

This.

Maybe you’re extremely overweight or inactive and it’s starting to affect your daily life? No sweat. It’s honestly never too late to make a few changes and turn things around.

I honestly suggest you consider it too, because the alternative is not, like, the best ever.

In all truthfulness I try not to care too much what other people do, because when people barge their way into my life and try to dictate to me what I should or should not be doing I get pretty furious.

However, if you’re in my life I truly care about you and I passively hope you ocassionally read one of my rambling blogs in the off-chance something I’ve written makes actual lucid sense and possibly lends a helping hand in some strange way.

So, back to thinking about getting healthy going into this new year.

Why tho?

Life is meant to be lived!

Why not have a party ‘till you die?!?!

You can totally do that if you want.

Actually, the trick is to learn how to party your fucking face off in moderation which has kind of a long adjustment period depending on what you’re going through and what your party resume looks like but with age and maturity it can be done and it’s the fucking BEST.

I was a fucking alcoholic pill-popping monster in college and my 20’s and now I just enjoy boozing ocassionally with friends when I’m not too stressed out about something else.

It’s literally the best.

And of course I understand that traditionally with addiction it’s an all or nothing thing and if you’ve gotten clean and are looking at this as a free pass to start testing the waters back in *whatever* again... well, for the record that’s in no way what I am saying. If you can’t exercise moderation, that sucks. Too bad for you. Go ahead and send me hate messages about how wrong I am and how dare I comment on the addiction process and blah, blah, blah, I am happy to ignore those.

Also, if you are a self-proclaimed rock star of whom the normal rules of science do not apply and you are out to see what your body can handle probably stop reading right now because the rest of this is for people who aren’t trying to recreate Hunter S. Thompson’s life in real-time. I totally feel you but I’m not about that life so, again, not the blog for you.

Also, please don’t message me and ask me to help guide you or wonder if maybe we could be roommates. Don’t you even think about bringing that evil up into my life!

Is my apartment the Robert Young Center? No it is not.

(Also, for the record (from now into the everlasting future), no I don’t want to try any of your weed. You don’t know the monsters I have known!)

Ok, so, if you’re still actually reading this and wanna talk (i.e. read what I have to say) about making some healthy steps so you can feel better and party with your friends in moderation and just feel good most of the time let me start by giving you a scenario:

(It’s real life too! Mine!)

Imagine you’re halfway through grad school and you’re working part time and you’re fairly stressed out and could not be more single because you are hovering around 4 bills on the bathroom scale (I mean it goes up to 350 and you are just burying that needle - SIDE NOTE: weight and self-worth are independent and my weight was not the sole reason for my solitude) and you kind of did this to yourself because you had like some unwanted attention previously that affected your career so then you knew if you looked way different you wouldn’t have to deal with that and then also, hello, grad school, just have a different career? Well, let’s say one night you are procrastinating on writing a paper, as you usually do, and you just kind of lose consciousness at one point for no real reason which is a little alarming so then you go to the ER and they are like:

“Bitch you could not have type 2 diabetes any harder right now. Are you even being serious with what a disaster this blood work is?!” - the doctor’s not quite exact words.

Um, problem.

If we’ve not met, my name is Lauren and I have been super-unhealthily preoccupied with my weight and appearance since 3rd grade. I’ve always been tall. Like, very talll. And in 3rd grade the entire class had to line up and get weighed for some reason and I tipped the scales far and above everyone else by a substantial amount. SUBSTANTIAL. And I was so weirded out because I honestly was a thin little adorable girl that just happened to be like a torso taller than everyone else, even the boys, and I internalized that number on the scale being so different from everyone else that I fucking snapped and have lived a life of complete body preoccupation that I wish upon no one. At that time my parents had just gotten divorced, my mom younger brother and I had just basically ditched my father as he was recovering from a horrible injury to move in with my grandparents, I literally did not even know what was happening around me half the time and then the universe felt like springing this complex about how much I weighed on me? Thanks just, SOMUCH! I’ll be sure to cycle through all the available eating disorders possible for the rest of my life!

In all seriousness, that’s just a little peek into my personal bullshit. Which when you get right down to it is just a bunch of first world problem whining.

The real problem is that tons of young women (and men too) in this country know all too well how all of that above rambling feels and that’s truly sad. So many people feel like shit about their appearance and weight and that is just really such a shame and waste.

Maybe you grew up with the most insecure and low-self-esteemed examples around you because some of your family members were/are just the worst.

Maybe you made your way into some kind of corporate career and were poised for some real success but then your boss got drunk and demanded that you “show him your fucking tits” or told you how hard you make his dick or how happy he is to see you stopping by the office after hours in the dark and goes in for some kind of strange embrace and you aren’t totally sure what to do in any of those situations because, uh, whattheactualfuck, so you default to doing nothing because you don’t think anyone cares or will believe you or you were worried about what could happen to your other coworker(s) if you said something and then you don’t have those jobs or opportunities anymore.

Maybe you grew up in a household where portion control and/or constructing a whole and actually balanced and nutritious meal wasn’t a thing or a possibility.

Bummer!

All of those scenarious are difficult. It’s not your fault people and/or situations fucking suck but it is up to you how you’re going to react to people and situations like that moving forward and the picture you’re going to create in your mind of how you view and see yourself which has a direct impact on how those around you see and view you.

Bottom Line: If you want to get healthy this new year and want to make changes to your life, if you are doing them for yourself, you are going to kick so much ass I can’t wait to see your progress. You’ll be engaged in the process and actually invest in learning how to do things right and will fucking blow your own mind with what you’re capeable of.

Oh, one last thing, to reference back up to the picture at the beginning of this post. Definitely let loose and enjoy the holidays first. January 1 is the perfect time to start. Once you really commit to health and stop eating a lot of junk and then try to go back and eat some it actually physically hurts and a holiday season without many treats is a holiday season no one should have to endure! 🤪

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