#i sometimes push myself to draw because that's all that excites me nowadays and i keep doing it to feel happy

[appliedpsychedelics]

I think I am driving myself insane.

I used to allow any passing thoughts to take space in my mind and then fade out, but now it's like, I'm consciously prompting thoughts around the topic, because it's like, something I'm interested in, kinda like my passing interest in construction vehicles... An interest, something that brings some sort of excitement into my life, in which every day feels pretty damn similar and sometimes I wonder why I keep pushing through these empty days.

I really wish I was better, socially. Being so alone, it hurts a lot, but also I'm too afraid to say a word to other kids. I won't even do group work in LA class... I remember at the start of the course i asked the teacher to make an effort to include a lot of group work, because I wanted to make friends. And now I can't even do it. I want friends, but socially I just shut down. It doesn't seem worth how panicked I can get. I always stress about people thinking I'm being weird. I don't know how to interact socially in a way that makes people LIKE me.

But as a result of that, I've been pretty much alone all the time. It's just me. My family, sure, I talk to them, but they barely even know me. I really have to watch what I say around them and I mostly just try to get interactions with them "done and over with" so I can go do drugs alone.

I think I treat a lot of stuff in my life as something to try and finish up with quickly so that I can do like, the same 4 things. The only things that bring me joy. Drugs, talking to my friends and bf online, playing with my dolls / making them clothes, and uhh, drawing. Art. But uh, I only do art at school to pass the time nowadays. I feel really uninspired. I only draw Boys now because it's the only things I can draw that doesn't look absolutely fucking soulless. I feel really bad that I can never come up with stuff to draw, because art is like, supposed to be something I'm good at.

Even if I haven't felt actual sexual attraction for at least a few days now, maybe a week or two??? Three? (I'm bad with memory and time and keeping track of stuff like what day it is), i still label myself in this admittedly alienating way., Boylover ,

I think the reason I can't let GO of it is because it's just so hated by the world. If I felt like I could openly express my thoughts, and not get sent to a mental hospital or beat to within an inch of my life, then maybe I would stop obsessing.

I think I just obsess over things so much more once I realize I can't have them.

My dad changed my bedsheets from dinosaur ones to plain ones and I never paid much attention to it but I think this whooooole idea of BL, in relation to me... It's just an obsession with childhood. My childhood, the one that has parts I miss and parts I want to do over. It's so so complicated, the whole thing. My parents don't agree with my narration of my childhood, but that is my true honest narration of it. I do recall painful moments. Some of them were around my gender or my "attraction". Around the fact that I'll never be a boy. I was never a boy. But I always wanted to be one, I literally remember packing when I was so so so so young...,

I can't help but wonder, if this thing I'm grappling with now is just the corpse of myself, as a child, standing up straight and staring me right in the eyes and saying, "I'm here, I always was here, and you can't keep ignoring me because I'll eat you up inside, one way or another..."

I don't know. I've just been in a lot of emotional pain lately. I don't understand how my brain works, why it thinks the way it does, and it's killing me. And I'm so sick of ignoring my feelings. If I feel sad, I shouldn't feel afraid to cry, because someone might know how I feel and disapprove, get angry. If my dad meant any of the bs he likes to say to me, I wouldn't be afraid to cry when I was sad. Hiding my pain makes me even sadder because I'm doing it so people don't get mad at me, but nobody should be mad at me for crying??? But that's just how it's always been for me.

I just feel like if I could go back and somehow get people to be kinder to my childhood self, if I could get my parents to allow me to crossdress and stuff, maybe I would've just grown out of it. But now I'm like some Freudian Penis Envy Nightmare....

I should probably just give up. Why do I push through every day, every hour.... To face yet another day that's exactly the same, the very next morning? Why do I even try to do good ? Why, what's the point? I should like, dump all my money,, ALL MY MONEY , an insane amount, on Molly, and OD. My friend said you could OD on it. If I OD, everyone will really care about me. They'll love me. They'll never shut up about how much they love me, because I'll be dead, and everyone loves to say nice things about dead boys, right? Sometimes I listen to videos online of parents discussing their son's death. They get so emotional. They really do care. I want people to be emotional like that over me. I want people to care about me so intensely like that, that they cry, I want people to feel pain about my death, I want them to feel culpable as well, which I suppose is really evil and selfish but I just need my parents to somehow understand that the things I remember from my childhood are real, they're painful, they DID affect me. I need them to understand, somehow, that my death was preventable. I want them to think long and hard about all the things they could've done differently. I want everyone around me to think about it. They probably won't care, nobody at school would care, but I would hope they'd notice the empty chair or name redacted from the attendance list. I would hope they'd put two and two together. They wouldn't be sad, but , I hope I could at least shock them. Get them to think about me a bit, if they even know who I am, if they could even remember my face or name. I just want people to notice my absence and wish I hadn't died. Notice my absence and I guess, realize that they did like having me around while I was there .. or something.

Not that it would work out that way. In my fantasy, everyone is in mourning over my death. In real life, I doubt most people would notice or care. Just my parents and stuff. But even then, they would never blame themselves. They NEVER blame themselves for anything. They don't even consider that their parenting may have been too harsh. My father says he wished he was more strict and made me conform to female gender stereotypes MORE .. so I didn't turn out this way. He doesn't realize that his instinct to force the gender non conformity out of me is what made me "trans" or "detrans" or whatever the fuck.

Im just so so so so so UPSET AND I WANT TO FUCKING DIE !!!! what's the point , if I can't ever be a real little boy? What's the point, if I never talk to anyone, if every day is the same, if school is difficult because I'm retarded, what's the POINT??? Why am I here if I'm just gonna suffer, really? Anyone even one degree below completely psycho would kill me, to send me away from my life thats just this constant mental and emotional strain. It's too too much and I can't take it anymore I can't. I don't want to stay here anymore I'm fucking done with everyone. I don't want to stay here. I want to escape. I want to be loved. I want to die. Lol.

[averlym]

i guess it makes sense somehow that burnt ash can be wet

#the thing about bouncing to whatever style excites me is that it’s hard to bounce back #i bounced really hard to try to follow scribs' style and it was hard and now i have like what 15 seconds of a shitty animatic in that style #it isn't even that consistent style-wise because i kept trying to copy it and failing #i didn't learn it before trying to copy it and that made it worse #i spent two days in a row drawing past 2am and then crashed and burned today #uh. when i get tired my effort level and quality also decreases so. not the best idea #i sometimes push myself to draw because that's all that excites me nowadays and i keep doing it to feel happy #but when the end product isn't as good as i want it makes me feel worse #and then i post it because i like posting and like the validation and when stuff gets less notes because not gonna lie it's low-quality #and below my usual standards i don't feel happy and i feel tired #i should take breaks from art i know i should and i need a break but i cANNOT stay away long enough it's like an addiction #my candle burns at both ends it may not last the night but oh my foes oh my friends it makes such a pretty sight #i push myself to keep doing it because it makes me happy and then the whole thing makes me miserable #my breaks never last long and i wish they would- my record for a hiatus has been what- a few days? a week? it's never exceeded two weeks. #then i feel bad because i didn't have the self-discipline to stay away from drawing for fun. #i can't even focus on my actual projects for art or things i promised people i'd draw for them but gods i keep drawing non-stop #drawing irrelevant useless bullshit that won't help me in life and just clogs up people's dashes #i want to be active because being active is fun and interactions with people is nice but also i need to take breaks and study and improve #i haven't figured out how to incorporate practice to improve in my drawing for fun and that's unfortunate. wow i'm swearing a lot here gosh #anyway ah right the whole reason for this post is some joke ramble about how after switching styles i genuinely can't draw faces properly #because the styles all confuse me and nothing i draw comes out quite right and the only thing i like about this doodle is the hair XD #but this turned salty fast and it's kinda sad that this is my first tag ramble in a long while and it's venty. i wish it was cheerier. #i keep thinking about the quality of my art and feeling bad and it sucks. maybe if i put in more time and effort- #maybe my content would be better. maybe maybe maybe maybe. one day i hope that i can do a commission and get something out of it #show that i'm a good enough artist to get paid- #that would be the greatest validation of all. i think. but i don't think my art's at the standard where anyone would spend money for it. #some of my classmates are doing commission work and i get it because their art's gorgeous. and i just do stupid doodles and half-finished #animatics and bad art and lately all my work's been looking like absolute shit #i want to go back through this blog and delete and redraw all my old art to make this whole thing better but no bc it's good documentation #so i guess the only way on is forward. i'm going to force myself to take a break maybe it'll be better soon idk. and that's 30 tags bye

[hwaflms]

Fav Emoji: 🗡

Hi!!! I was wondering if I can get a ship for txt, nct, and ateez pls? I’ll really try not to make this long, but it’s hard sometimes lol.

Anyways, I’m an 18 year old 03’ liner and I’m 5’6. As for looks, I’m african american so i have dark skin, brown eyes and cinnamon colored hair. I cut my hair really short above my ears. I look rather young for my age (unfortunately). I’m rather slim and i have long legs and arms so people say I look even taller than what i am. I have large round eyes a big forehead, a button nose, and thick(ish) lips with round cheeks(ok now i understand why ppl think i’m vv young 🙄) But nowadays i’m more confident in myself and it’s no longer an insecurity of mine. I’d like to say i’m very stylish yet i can’t pick an aesthetic for the life of me.

To sum up my fav aesthetic/style, i would have to say something that’s dark but sophisticated. Like dark academia, but add a bit more of an alt/goth style to it. I like listening to visual kei and rock music, but to be honest, I love all music, even country some times.

I’m from the south of usa, so that has influenced how i am A LOT. I usually don’t have an accent, but whenever i feel a really strong emotion, I get a really strong southern accent and it’s kind of funny. I also tend to go outside without any shoes or socks. I like playing with my pets outside the most, I have two dogs (one is a rottweiler and one is a bull dog), my cat (just a black cat) and my bird. I love love love animals. I love everything to do with nature as well, i feel a deep connection with nature, and once, i even cried while watching bees pollinate flowers help lol.

My psychic said my aura was multiple shades of green, which i think it fits, seeing that green auras represented healers and earth lovers. My dad tends to call me a hippie lol. Astrology wise, I’m a leo sun, leo moon, and scorpio rising. My personality type is INFP-T. My friends say i’m quite funny, and they like to point out, “she’s really really smart, but like everyone, she has her dumb moments, but her dumb moments are the dumbest of the dumbest.”

I’m very sensitive, and not in the “i’m always crying way”. Yet, when i do cry, i tend to cry over the smallest of things, like the bee one. I cry over animals being cute, and I cry when i’m rlly rlly excited. Yet if i’m rlly sad, i can’t cry for some reason, and i’m just 😐. But, I try my hardest to comfort others and help others because there seriously is no other happiness in the world that makes me more happy than making others happy.

I like to talk a lot, as well (as you can see), and i’ll talk about every topic. I tend to talk most about child birth and genetics weirdly enough, it’s so interesting to me. But i also love to talk about astrology, space, and conspiracy theories. I’m highly spiritual. I’m also highly creative. I love drawing, singing, dancing, acting, all of that. Drawing has always been my strongest suit before i somehow got bored of it, but i still draw every once and a while.

I also like playing sports, as i’m naturally athletic. I did ballet, tap dance, gymnastics, track and field, cheerleading, soccer, and softball. (i think cheer is a sport and i’ll argue with anyone on that). I’ve lived in america, germany, and south korea, and i want to travel to so many more places as i grow older.

As for relationship stuff, I’ve never been in a relationship. I’m scared of boys to be honest. I was bullied in school a lot for being “ugly” and it was always by boys so i’ve never really had the best experience with them. I’m still trying to gain my confidence so that i could try dating.

My ideal type is someone smart (though i don’t hate himbos lmao), but i like someone smart and mature. I like someone who works hard, but not someone who’s too serious. With people, i like to have those love/hate relationships lol like we make fun of each other but we also have our soft moments. As for looks, i don’t rlly have an ideal type, yet there’s a couple things that i would go for. I like someone who’s taller than me, has bigger hands than me (mine are 18cm 😥), and has nice legs (i tend to like thicker legs, but i don’t discriminate). I do think smaller guys around my height are so cute too tho, like UGH I CANT CHOOSE.

My ideal date would probably be anything other than going to a restaurant. Maybe later on in the relationship that would be fine, but to be honest, i’m very awkward and shy at first, so it would just be weird. I find that doing something fun together really let’s you find out more about a person rather than just talking. So maybe an amusement park, or even doing an escape room together.

As for love languages, i’m not a very touchy person. Sometimes, i’m STARVING for a hug, but most of the time i don’t like to be touched. I think my love language is acts of service, and idk what’s it’s called, but just trying to find out abt someone. Someone would really know i like them when i ask for their whole zodiac chart, personality type, weekday of birth, everything.

Tbh, i’m very much like a tsundere. I don’t like showing affection very much, and i’d rather insult the ppl that i like than compliment them. Though, this is probably the reason ppl think i don’t like them when i first meet them. Sometimes i might get rlly mushy and cute and stuff, but most of the time, i’m just not used to showing affection, so i feel kinda uncomfy when i do.

Ok, that’s all, i really hope it wasn’t too much for you to read, i tend to get carried away ❤️ have a nice day ily

୨୧ 𓂃 : 🐇 :┊ i ship you with . . .

💌 — huening kai ♡ txt.

𖥻 the last thing a relationship with hyuka would be is boring. he gives off very "best friend who also happens to be your boyfriend" vibes, so there would be a lot off playing around and goofing off. he can be affectionate but also likes his space, like you, so you would be able to find a middle ground. he would like is your relationship was light and fun, teasing each other and making fun of each other. if you ever felt insecure, he would make you feel better in a less "let's talk about it" way and a more "ugh you're so silly, why would you think that when you're perfect??" way.

💌 — johnny ♡ nct.

𖥻 johnny is a chill and laid-back person, so conversation with him would come easy. there wouldn't be an awkward stage with him because johnny is a pretty smooth talker and he would make it easier for you to talk to him. johnny would NEVER make you feel insecure, if anything, he'd be the type of boyfriend who would be hyping you up all the time, even when you're doing absolutely nothing. johnny loves music too so, while he might make fun of you a lil for listening to country, he would love vibing to music with you. we all know johnny is mf hilarious, so he could definitely joke around with you and insult you playfully often ! plus johnny is a sexc tall boy and he has legs for days D:

💌 — hongjoong ♡ atz.

𖥻 hongjoong has the perfect balance of being mature and hardworking while also being playful. he knows how to take a joke and return the favour by teasing you, so i think in that aspect, you will have an easy-going relationship. he also will definitely be so supportive of you, and will be there for you whenever you need it. the kind of dates he would prefer would be more indoor ones, especially just in his studio !! he would show the amount of affection you're comfortable with, never pushing your boundaries or pressuring you.

♡ 𓄹 ࣪ ˖ i hope you like this !! and also, i just wanted to let you know that you are so so beautiful, okay, ilysm <3 boys suck, pls ignore them >:( thank you for sending this in, stay safe ^_^

#(-_- ) zZ ships ★!

[pathofcomet]

types of kisses (6)

fandom: ikemen vampire

pairing: isaac/MC

summary: Wild, breathless kisses brought on by a heartfelt gift. (AO3)

Whenever she comes up with his meal, she sits on the side of his bed, watching him. She sometimes asks about his projects, and she laughs in that adorable, embarrassed way of hers when she mentions she studied English literature in her time. And yet, without fail, whenever she notices he has moved on to another writing, to a new piece, she asks about it.

Isaac sits at his desk, munching on his sandwich (her sandwich) and pays her back for the gesture; listens to her talk about a time that she left behind, but that it’s still a long way in the future. And although his heart strains for it, there’s not even the smallest hint of longing in her words. She speaks evenly, and ends her sentences with a quick look in his way, as to reassure him that she’s here, and it’s a decision that she makes over and over again, every day.

They grow around this habit. He tells her of his time with Napoleon and the kids, and how the two of them, historical figures in such separate places and times, became such good friends in the first place. She tells him of books that are yet to be written, of genres just recently invented – and their flourishing as decades pass. She tells him of education, how more people than ever can access it – and she pretends she doesn’t see the way his eyes glimmer.

She tells him people walked on the moon. That’s where he draws the line, gently ushering her away so he can focus on his works, and she laughs at him, it’s true! For a long time, he just holds his pen in the air, staring at his papers, unable to focus on something else but the memory of her laughter, her smile as she spoke of things she used to love.

He imagines there are many things she used to love and she can’t have here and now. Things that simply are not that circulated, not yet invented. Despite it, she never complains. Not to him, anyway.

He sends out several notes in the city. Replies come back, but not many are what he wants to hear. He goes out to Paris himself, discusses with various individuals. He leaves her sleeping in his bed early in the morning, so she doesn’t have time to question him – he’s not sure he knows how to lie to her.

Eventually, a package arrives at university, addressed to him. He sighs in relief, clutches it closer to him, nervous and excited at the same time. He wants to see her, desperately, right now – and it takes all his power to still himself on the spot. He knows that, no matter out, at the end of the day, she’ll be waiting for him.

But he spends the next couple of hours allowing his mouth to rattle off about subjects he not only knows, but invented, while his brain is just conjuring, over and over again, the many ways in which he thinks she might react.

He stumbles only twice on his way up the stairs, and almost bumps into Sebastian, in his haste, who instead just greets him, with the slightest teasing edge in his voice. Isaac doesn’t exactly have it in him at the moment to politely tell him to fuck off.

He finds her in her room, where she’s snuggled in a chair, under a blanket and tries her best to embroider something. It’s a hobby that Arthur suggested as a joke, but then she went into the city the next day with Sebastian, picking all the things she needed. She’s concentrating, hard, eyebrows furrowed. She didn’t even hear the door opening, just the dull, closing sound of it.

She turns around, beaming, knowing without fail that it can be no one else but him. No one else enters her room unannounced nowadays, for too many times it has been occupied by one more than just her. She opens her arms to him; he gets down on his knees, so he can put his arms around her waist, breathe in her scent at the crook of her neck. She sighs in his hair, welcoming him back home.

He moves, settling down on the arm of her armchair, his hand around her shoulder. With his other hand, he pushes the wrapped present in her lap. She turns her gaze to him, fast.

“What is this?”

Isaac’s eyebrows raise, humoured. “Open it and see.”

She’s awfully careful with it, pulling at the ribbon slowly, removing it only to neatly place it on her desk, next to her embroidery. He’s hanging now to every one of her reactions, as the paper falls to the floor, revealing the book he has struggled for weeks to find.

She traces the name, printed in gold, over and over again with her finger.

“You d-don’t have to like it… But you’ve been mentioning it… and I thought that you m-”

The book falls to the floor, a first edition of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. Instead, she’s grabbing at his clothes, pulling him close, kissing him – over his chin and on the tip of his nose, missing her purpose in her frenzy, mumbling thanks in-between each kiss, and he’s holding her as she’s melting with each touch of her lips on him.

“Thank you,” she says, properly this time, as she shifts to pick up her present, dusting off the cover, hugging it close to her chest. She has tears on each of her cheeks, which he kisses away.

That night, both in her bed, she opens her new book. He closes his, shifts closer to her, resting his head under her arm, ear right above her heartbeat.

“Read to me?” he asks, eyes closing against her tender touch in his hair.

“The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex…” she starts.

Her voice is soothing, but she’s pausing at each punctuation mark, changing her voice just slightly when reading the dialogues, and soon he finds himself entirely enraptured in the story that he knows is one of her favourites. It becomes soon a tradition, and by the end, heck, it sounds just a tiny bit familiar to what they’ve been through.

Sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp isaac #isaac x reader #isaac x mc #ikevamp #ikevamp fic #50 kisses isaac #my writing

[sasorikigai]

Anon is for the WEAK! I'm here to throw all my love and admiration at the senpai for it has been an actual honour to follow someone so talented, so humble and so excited about the entire creative process we may or may not share, and I swear I can't sufficiently write out more on why because seriously language fails me. I look up to you in many ways and I'm glad for being your friend yee ~ ♡

anonymously send me a brick to the face || @indulgentia || accepting

First of all, I definitely concur with your opinion that going anonymous is for the weak. I enjoy nothing more than giving genuine, heartfelt positivities for my mutuals, and those that deserve my time and effort, as it really takes a lot out of what I try to do with the absolute best of my abilities. I just hate coming across as short and half-assed, so even when I am this potato and a dork who is in too deep in Mortal Kombat and Hanzo Hasashi/Scorpion (more than any other muses of mine), and I am just glad your Liang is one of the muses I have come to absolutely adore and love. I can tell that you put so much into your craft when it comes to your muses, and that alone really pushes my own passion and creativity forward. I am blessed to have so many talented individuals in my squadron, and that obviously includes YOU as well. 

I have come to the realization that I will always have high standard of myself; I can never relax them when it comes to my craft (yeah I am your stubborn and passionate Taurus). I like to read intently from the book of human nature, deep internalization and psychology, and the intensity and passion I have towards something I absolute love will never get deterred and disintegrated. I sometimes fear and have a bit of a paranoia that I may come across as too eager and enthusiastic, but as you have mentioned to me a couple of times, I have come to accept the fact that I must follow my heart’s content and do what I want to do. Just know that without people like you who inspire me to do better, I would never have dedicated myself in writing and roleplaying as much as I do nowadays. I just love this creative outlet, and both Hanzo and I share that burning passion, seriousness, and intensity to never give up and prevail, no matter what may come across our lives. 

Just know what I appreciate, adore, and respect you as a human being. You are exceptionally talented in all things you do, and I really appreciated you for coming forth with your insecurities and whatnot and being so unapologetically honest about it. It is extremely difficult to admit your flaws and weaknesses, and just being such a good bean. I love your Kuai Liang to bits, and all the ramblings and headcanons you throw at me in our chat. I loved every bit of it. I appreciate it so much that you’re thinking about MY HANZO and drawing such parallels and connections. It means so much when mutuals do this. It is very heartwarming to come across such in my notifications. Before I ramble way too much, let me just say that I have huge respect and love for you, Bru! 

#breathing iron and rust (outofkombat) #indulgentia

[aliferous-ly]

The Setting Sun

yall. Yall. i wrote a fic im so proud of myself. This is Possibly a series, if y’all want it !! otherwise standalone /peace sign/ also, if you like a certain pairing then mention it bcos idk which pairing yet, if any, so :3c

Summary: “He... Logan wasn’t angry, at the events. He just came to a realization, like dust, sitting heavy in his lungs. If he coughed his entire life would go black and gray, and he wouldn’t be able to stop.”

AKA Logan realizes he’s not the best person to be Thomas’s Logic. So he makes a new one. 

Words: 3196

Genre: angst, some fluff. Logangst, of course

Warnings: implied character death for a moment (I promise, he does not die). deprecation, not showing all the sides in the most flattering light (like humans), disappearance.. if there’s anything else, please let me know!

writing tag: @sassy-in-glasses​, @rose-gold-roman​, @justanotherpurplebutterfly​, @echomist13​

Logan came to the realization like Roman might describe love: slowly, and then all at once.

He was increasingly perceptive of the other sides’ actions, though he wasn’t sure if this was a side effect of being Logic or if it were more... paying astute attention to their every move.

But he started noticing the little things, like when Virgil mentioned how certain long silences made him nervous and attentive to every single move.

And the word games of sarcasm that sometimes, used to, fly over his head.

But he’d gotten better.

And he’d gotten so much worse for it.

He noticed Roman’s roll of the eyes when Logan turned away, or sometimes in full view, turning to look at Thomas, get a load of this guy. He noticed the disdainful flick of his fingers, the push of his shoulders, the sneer on his lips that might disappear in moments time.

Of course he saw Patton’s strained smile, his frown at Logan’s exposition, just hold back a bit next time, bud, we don’t want any wounded feelings around here! The concerned jolt of his gaze, flipping between Virgil and Roman and Logan, uncertainty, forced delight, the simmer of it’ll all be okay, let’s just take a step back and talk about it! even though Logan knew “it” would always be feelings and not the actual issue at hand.

And Virgil’s candid nature hid such secrecy that Logan couldn’t miss the darkened expression, the gentle lean away, how Virgil would talk about how Logan disrespected him, or used to, and in the next heartbeat force Logan to shift for his means. The listen, dude, you might want to lay off a bit. Of course, Logan could do that, of course.

He couldn’t miss, then, Thomas wincing, the muscles in his face contracting into something (something) and he’d make eye contact with Roman or Virgil and they’d have that look. He couldn’t miss Thomas’s awkward stance, the way he’d shift when Logan stepped up to speak, the defense alighting in everyone’s eyes the moment Logan opened his mouth.

He... Logan wasn’t angry, at the events. He just came to a realization, like dust, sitting heavy in his lungs. If he coughed his entire life would go black and gray, and he wouldn’t be able to stop.

He couldn’t cough. He couldn’t mess up.

Logan massaged the center of his chest, staring into a shard of broken glass glittering rainbow in the light of the mindscape. Every side had one; they’re own personal escape into Thomas’s core, the centerpiece of his existence.

Too long spent in there, and they would dissolve into Thomas. And I wouldn’t want to lose you, Patton told Virgil. Please don’t go back.

Logan wouldn’t leave without a second thought. He couldn’t do that to them; Logic was a particularly important piece to discussion, and Logan knew that he... that Logic would be needed, for the pieces to fit together. For the code to run properly.

Viscous despair surged through his veins, slogging and clogging his throat and heart, and Logan knew he was no longer needed. Not as Logan. As a facet of Thomas’s personality, he’d failed, and grown too far from the center.

Logan exhaled, closing his eyes and ignoring the trails down his cheeks. Touching the cold surface, he slowly drew his fingers away, trails of electric blue and steel grey extracting from the glass. Logan pulled the essence of Logic from Thomas’s core, the very thought that had been used to make him – only, different, because Logan... Logan could not be a repeat, he could not be another stumble in the process of Thomas’s life.

He gathered synopsis, collected and connecting every (important) aspect of Logic into one humanoid figure. They were comprised of long strings like nerves, dark blue and gleaming.

One more thing. Logan took a moment, or two, to think. He couldn’t mess this part up; done incorrectly, Logan would cause the very problem he was seeking to repair.

One breath, two, and Logan tapped his index finger against his heart, wincing as he drew out a long strand of glowing silver, waving ribbon-like through the air. The world dulled a little at the edges, his connection to Thomas waning and dissolving like morning dew. He suddenly couldn’t remember what year Thomas graduated, or how long he’d studied to be an engineer.

(He remembered twenty Disney facts that Virgil and Roman had tag teamed in teaching him, he remembered Patton’s favorite tea and how much sugar he liked in his coffee, he remembered–)

Logan wove the silver through the blue, interlocking the two until he’d created a fully new being, complete with all of Logan’s capabilities and (Logan slid his fingers away from the silver) his connection to Thomas.

“You’re going to fix everything I’ve destroyed,” Logan said softly. He leaned forward, suddenly tired, rubbing at his temples. “I’m sorry for pinning you with the responsibility. But with luck, you’ll be just the right Logic for them.”

Logan cradled the blue strands shaped like a jaw, and pressed a single kiss to their forehead. “You’ll succeed where I’ve failed,” he said, as life and autonomy filled the shape of a human Logan had created. Skin stitched over blue wiring, eyes glowing the silver of Logan’s connection as they blinked open.

“You are Logic,” Logan said, exhausted and fading fast. “You know your purpose. There are others like you, but they do not know you yet.”

The new Logic stared at him, unblinking. They opened their mouth and said, “What are you?”

Logan smiled, brown eyes crinkling at the edges. “I’m nothing.”

“But you are here,” they said. “You cannot be nothing. Nothing does not exist.”

“Truly, I am,” Logan said. He reached out a hand, the skin and veins and bones disappearing, fading like a mirage. “You see? I am vanishing.”

They blinked once, then. “You are Logic.”

“No,” Logan said. He shook his head. “I was.”

His body finally got the cue, and Logan faded just like Roman had once explained love:

Slowly, and then all at once.

I was.

I am no longer.

—

Roman heard a whisper through the mindscape and looked up from his book, narrowing his eyes.

“Roman?” Patton asked, doing a jigsaw puzzle with Virgil. “What’s up?”

“I heard something,” Roman said.

Virgil snorted. “Like, a ghost? Are we haunted? Can we be haunted?” he sounded excited about the concept.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Roman said. They made faces at each other, a common “you’re irritating” that they exchanged.

“Maybe I’m the ghost, and you’re just now noticing my ghostly attributes,” Virgil said, wiggling his fingers.

“If any of us were a ghost, it’d be Logan,” Roman said, laughing. “From how often he holes himself up in his room nowadays.” He winced, then, because yikes, he forgot to watch his mouth again. He waited for Patton’s chiding be nice to Logan, Roman, that he’d always gotten with Virgil, and frowned when it didn’t come.

Virgil snorted before refocusing on the puzzle, evidently done with the conversation. Patton made a small noise of victory, slotting a piece into place. Virgil’s face softened with a smile.

Roman turned back around, leaning against the couch, brows furrowed. Something was wrong with the mindscape, something off. But if Virgil wasn’t noting anything, then it had to be solely in Roman’s realm.

Because... well, Roman couldn’t explain it, really, just a couple feelings thrown together with erratic stitching into a mismatched blanket that barely worked. But if he had to hazard a guess, something had been created, and shifted, and something – he longed to know what – added, to him, to his job.

The last part made him a little indignant because honestly, wasn’t his job hard enough? Which side decided well, this is a little much for me, Roman can take it!

Probably... well, probably Logan, but it didn’t seem logical for Logan to dump something else on Roman, not when Logan knew how stressed Roman could get, not when Logan was uncomfortably familiar with Roman’s breakdowns.

“Hey Virgil,” Roman said, throwing an arm on the back of the couch and turning to look at the table.

Virgil sighed. “What, couldn’t stand silence for more than five minutes?”

“It was three minutes and forty five seconds and I cannot, in fact, stand upon silence so no, I cannot,” Roman said, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could think. “Nerd,” he tacked on at the end, lamely and without heat.

Patton stopped moving, his and Virgil’s gaze stopping on Roman’s face, expressions twisted with confusion.

Virgil laughed uncomfortably, shifting in his chair. “You might be spending a little too much time with Logan, man.”

“I think it’s a good thing!” Patton said. “Logan can be a tough nut to crack.”

Roman frowned, because he wasn’t really, although he... he hadn’t really tried, as of late, to focus on him.

“I’m... I’m gonna go to imagination,” Roman said.

“Alright, kiddo!” Patton said. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just...” Roman searched for an excuse, half-standing, when an idea struck him. He trained his face into a cocky, pompous expression, drawing on Thomas’s ability as an actor, falling into his role easily. “I’m bored. Reading this novel has not been as stimulating as promised, and I need to fight something.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and Roman internally grinned. Ace in the hole. Patton laughed and said, “Go ahead, bud! We’re not holding you back!”

Roman stood fully, stretching and setting the book on the side table, careful not to bend any of the pages. His books were littered with dogears and highlights, but Logan’s were meticulously cared for, only the best of the best with perfect folds (favorite parts) and notes.

Roman sank out to the hallway they collectively called home, each of their rooms branching out. Patton’s, of course, was adorned with various positive imagery with the overarching pale blue theme. Virgil’s was pitch black, delicate engravings of purple, covered in Logan’s notes and Patton’s pictures and Roman’s odd stickynote varying from return my earbuds you heathen to a realistic drawing of a chicken.

He stood in front of Logan’s door, eyeing the straight white and blue lines. They really needed to paint over this, it didn’t encompass Logan at all. Roman had a few ideas... maybe he would tell Logan, while he was here.

Roman knocked. “Logan?” he called out, puffing his chest to make his voice sound bigger. “It’s time to emerge from hibernation!”

Nothing.

Roman blinked a few times. Was Logan not in his room? But then, where else would he be? “Logan? Look, I’m sorry I was going back and forth with you on the blue and pink colors, it was so much like the sleeping beauty dress that I couldn’t resist.”

A few more seconds, and Roman frowned. “Are you not in there? Hello?” He knocked a few more times, just to be sure. Maybe he had earbuds in, or something.

The door swung open, Roman’s fist poised, and everything tilted on its axis for three horrible seconds.

“Who...” Roman choked on his words, confusion-fear-bewilderment filling his veins. “Who are you?”

They didn’t move, eyes open and unblinking, a striking silver color. “I am not a who. I am a what. I am Logic.”

Something small and dark twinged in Roman’s chest and he shook his head. “No. No, you’re not. Where’s Logan?”

“At the present moment, I am uncertain.” A channel of silver lit up their cheekbones, like wires in a circuit board. “Logan did not tell me where he was going, only that he was.”

“Logan is Logic, you’re... you’re not Logic,” Roman said again, shivering. This was wrong, this was wrong. “Why are you here?”

“I am the manifestation of Thomas Foley Sanders’s Logic, intended to add reasoning to certain discussions.”

“No, Logan is,” Roman tried. They didn’t blink, which was really starting to unnerve him on a whole different level. “I don’t understand.”

They regarded him for a moment. “Very well. I will expound. Logan created me ten minutes and thirteen point three seconds ago. He used the mindscape to do so.”

Roman flinched. Logan created something. Logan created... he swallowed, throat thick.

They – Logic? – continued. “The former Logic said, ”You are Logic. You know your purpose. There are others like you, but they do not know you yet.“ When I inquired of his being, he stated, ”I am nothing.“ This is paradoxical situation, so I sought to remedy his flawed thinking. He said, ”You see? I am vanishing.“ His fingers disappeared into the air, of a way I am thus uncertain. I called him this ”Logic“, as you did, but he corrected my flawed verbiage and stated, ”No. I was.“ Soon after his statement, the rest of his body vanished. I have been standing in the room, collecting data for my success here. Evidently, the former Logic knew his job was being fulfilled incorrectly, and decided to find a solution. I was created as the solution.”

Roman couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. “What?”

“Would you like me to repeat?”

“No, no,” Roman stuttered, out. “No. No, Logan wouldn’t... how did he make you? How?”

“From the data I have obtained,” they said, still not blinking or moving, as if they were a picture on a background, “the former Logic gathered the essence of Logic into a singular being from the data of the mindscape. He inserted that being with a silver strand – of which I am uncertain of the reason – and gave the being life.”

“The silver,” Roman whispered, realization dawning in his eyes. “The silver is the connection to Thomas, you need it to be one of his sides, I’ve never heard of... transferring, or whatever he did...”

Roman fell quiet, the silence deafening to his ears. Logic hadn’t invited him into Logan’s room, though Roman wondered if Logic knew common societal practices, or if he was merely... a computer. A vessel.

A thought struck him and Roman’s spine shot ramrod straight. He stared at Logic intently, just barely stopping himself from grabbing their shoulders and shaking (just to get some movement, some life). “The golden string. What did he do with it?”

A few seconds passed as they processed this. “I am in no possession of a golden strand.”

“But where – where–” Roman stopped, took a breath, and reworded his sentence. “What did he look like before he disappeared? Did he glow, or were his eyes a different color? His veins?”

Roman counted one, two, three, four, five before Logic spoke. “The former Logic had skin much lighter than a healthy human being, being transparent and pale. His veins were not red or blue but a copper, gold color. His eyes were brown, but the irises had lines of gold within them, which steadily took over the entire iris.”

Roman lost his breath and almost fell, holding himself against the wall with one hand. “He’s... he...” Oh my god.

“Is the golden strand important to my functions?” Logic stated more than asked.

“Not... not your functions, but it’s... it’s his entire personality, his memories, his feelings,” Roman said, the words thick and heavy in his mouth.

“Very well,” they said, and asked no further questions, a silence that gave Roman a whiplash he never thought he’d feel. His curiosity, his wit...

And then it struck him.

“Oh, no, Logan,” Roman murmured, eyes wide and unblinking. Logan hadn’t left any untied odds and ends, had he? The “essence” of logic in a different being, and his extra jobs, the ones that required a personality, that required feeling, he pushed... pushed onto Roman. And, undoubtedly, part of Virgil, part of Patton... they all carried a little bit of Logan in them, now.

Roman had Logan’s scathing wit, his quick comebacks.

He didn’t want them.

“The gold,” Roman said. “When he vanished, did he have a mirror on him? A shard of glass?”

“I am uncertain.”

“And you don’t have any desire to learn? To figure it out? Wrack your brain?”

“I do not have desire,” they said so plainly that Roman wanted to cry.

“Okay, I need to... I need,” Roman gestured a bit with his hand, thoughts running a mile a minute. “Mirror mirror on the wall...” his mirror appeared in his hand moments later, gilded with gold and an intricate handle. Roman clutched it like a parched man to water. “Show me Logan.”

The mirror swirled, disney-esque to his name, before revealing a vague fog with a shimmer of gold. One moment there, gone the next, leaving just... gray.

But it was there.

Roman was certain of it.

“He’s still alive,” Roman murmured. The mirror, if it had not been made of impenetrable thought, would have cracked under the pressure of his hands. “He’s still alive.”

“The former Logic did not erase himself?” the other Logic asked.

“No, he’s still there, just his personality and thoughts and memories,” Roman said. “He didn’t erase himself. He moved himself into the mindscape. He did the sides version of moving far, far away.”

“He should have. He cannot take up space in the mindscape,” Logic said.

“His personality isn’t much space at all,” Roman said. “The mindscape is neigh endless. You know this.”

“You make a valid point. I concede,” Logic said. Roman frowned. Agreement so fast?

“But that means he’s still there,” Roman said. “He’s alive. And that means we can find him.”

“Are you certain he wishes to be found?” Logic said.

“No,” Roman said. “But I... I can’t let him just leave. I can’t. The longer he spends in the mindscape, the more he disappears... almost like growing old. I need to... He shouldn’t have left. He’s logic, he’s our logic, and I... I miss him.”

“Very well.” No fighting whatsoever.

Roman took a shuddering breath. An actual mission, with real dangers. An adventure, the romantic side of his brain whispered. Save the damsel in distress. Only, Logan had chosen to disappear into the mindscape.

But Roman couldn’t do nothing. He’d... he’d have to, at least, find him, and talk to him. It wasn’t right for Logan to up and leave without telling the others.

Then it’s decided, then?

“Okay,” Roman said. “Okay. I’m certain.” He squared his shoulders, breathing slowly. “I’m going to get him.”

Logic said nothing, stare blank and emotionless.

Goosebumps rose on Roman’s skin. “But first...” he flicked the mirror, vanishing it into the mindscape. “First, I have to tell the others.”

Logic didn’t move as Roman sunk out. Roman wondered if he’d still be standing there, hours later.

He didn’t know why Logan had left. Why Logan had committed an act so much more thorough, so much more permanent, than Virgil ducking out.

I don’t know why you left.

Roman rose in the living room, drawing Virgil and Patton’s curious gazes.

But I know one thing.

Virgil shot to his feet, entire being buzzing with energy and fear-anxiety-nervousness.

You’re not alone. You’re never alone.

Patton stood slowly, a shaky sort of realization filling his face before Roman had even said a word.

Your family is behind you.

And we’re not leaving you behind.

#again lemme know if u wanna continue bcos as of now... this is the End #sanders sides fic #logangst #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #wow a new logic? who would've thought #hopeful ending #brabbles

[ahgastae]

Penny for Your Thoughts?

Jinyoung x Reader (Soulmate!AU)

Fluff

Word Count - 5.3k

Warnings: you know what? i think i did pretty good on the swears this time. so unless you’re allergic to sweet, tooth rotting cuteness, i have no warnings for this one!

Quick A/N: bolded text is spoken/heard in korean! also, i changed this up a bit from the intro/headcanons for story purposes, and i hope that isn’t a problem.

Unlike most people in his system, Jinyoung has a love-hate relationship with the voice inside his head. No, not the nagging little voice in the back of mind telling him to strangle Yugyeom, but the actual voice invading his thoughts. The voice belonging to his soulmate. Now, Jinyoung is truly grateful for the perks of his system, like ‘meeting’ his soulmate before their fated encounter. But, sometimes, hearing her in his head makes it all the more harder for him to wait.

Jinyoung sighs blissfully, letting the stress roll off his shoulders as he finally sinks into the practice room couch. He loves comebacks as much as the rest of his group, but none of them are exactly fond of the exhaustion that comes with them. Jinyoung’s gently eyes close, basking in the small moment of peace. They don’t come around very often, considering his groupmates’ personalities, and he cherishes the few he gets. His mind toes the edge of consciousness, teetering on the brink of sleep when-

“Jinyoung-ah!”

That didn’t last long.

Jinyoung’s eyes flash open, just in time to catch Jackson leaping towards him without warning. He grimaces when the older male lands across his lap, legs splaying along the end of the couch. Besides him, Jaebum snickers under his breath.

“I think you almost got five minutes this time,” Jaebum remarks, amusement written on his face. Jackson smiles widely, wriggling around in Jinyoung’s lap to get comfortable.

“I wasn’t aware I was being timed.”

Jaebum shrugs, “It’s just something I do to keep myself occupied. That, and it’s always amusing to watch them try and wake you up.” Jinyoung glances around the room, realizing his remaining four members are all watching him, and they’re all simultaneously trying to hold in laughter. He rolls his eyes, but can’t hide the small smile on his lips. Really, he’s not surprised. He would be shocked if they didn’t try to mess with him while his eyes were closed. But that still doesn’t stop him from pushing Jackson off of his legs.

Jackson whines when he hits the floor with a dull thud, “Hey! Is that how you treat your elders?”

“The only thing elderly about you is how fragile your bones are.” The room breaks into giggles, and only intensifies when Jackson mocks pain, clutching at his chest as he flops down dramatically.

“Wounded!” He cries. “Wounded by own blood! I raised you on my back, Park Jinyoung!”

Jinyoung smirks as he rises from the couch, “And that will be your downfall.” He acts out removing a sword from its sheath, pointing the imaginary blade at Jackson’s chest. “Any last words?” Jackson locks eyes with him, chest heaving theatrically. The room is silent, the five other members all waiting with bated breath. Jackson does not disappoint.

“Wang Gae... Park Gae...”

Jackson collapses with a grunt, limbs spread out all around him. Immediately the room erupts once more. Bambam and Youngjae rush forwards, feigning tears and sorrow for their fallen friend. Jinyoung turns around, pointing his ‘sword’ threateningly at the last three members.

“Have you anything to say?”

Mark and Yugyeom quickly shake their heads, faces growing red from laughter. Jaebum chuckles, hiding his smile behind his hand. Jinyoung nods triumphantly, and returns his weapon to his sheath. 

Then, amidst the loud laughter and dramatic sobs, he hears it. A sound he’s grown to become quite accustomed to. One might even say he’s fond of it. The light giggle flashes through his mind in a second, and then it’s gone just as soon. Jinyoung’s heart swells in his chest, although he can’t tell if it’s from adoration or embarrassment.

At least she enjoyed his performance.

I bite my lip, staring down at my notebook as I try to hide the smile on my face. I know he has a penchant for theatrics, and I find it really endearing that he does, but I really wish he would wait until after my professor’s lecture on cognitive functions. 

It’s not often that I find myself popping into my soulmate’s head. In fact, for the most part, I try not to. In the beginning, my soulmate was a pretty private and reserved person. He didn’t like me barging into his head at the most random of moments, and I understand that, but it’s not exactly like I had any control over it at that time. I didn’t even know I was in the thoughts system until the day I had the weirdest out of body experience of my life.

People always ask what it’s like to have a direct link to my soulmate’s mind, and, honestly, it’s fucking confusing. That link can vary in strength, and sometimes changes on a day-to-day basis. Most days, it’ll be a streamline of thoughts, like a phone conversation. I’ve been told it’s the main way those of us in the thoughts system communicate with our significant others, but it took awhile before I wasn’t the only one talking.

“Why are you so intent on killing Yugioh?”

The question escaped my mind before I could stop it. By then, I knew that wasn’t the name of the tall friend he always wanted to strangle, but it never failed to entertain him when I got it ‘wrong’, so I wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Moments later, I felt the familiar feeling in the back of my head, letting me know he’d heard. Usually that would be the most I got, so imagine my surprise when he actually responded.

“The little shit keeps eating all my chocolate. It’s what he deserves.”

I smiled, trying hard not to let my excitement show too much. That was the first time he purposefully communicated with me, and I was over the moon to see some progress being made.

“Ah, a capital offense, I see. Off with his head, then.”

Then he did something I never expected, at least not because of me.

He laughed. And I swear my heart was sold from that moment on.

Nowadays, it’s more common for him to reply to me when he gets the chance, and it almost feels like we’ve become some sort of weird, long distance friends. That’s probably something strange to think about my soulmate, but I still hesitate to bring up anything that might make him uncomfortable, or draw himself away. The last thing I want is for him to feel trapped inside his own mind.

Other days, there’s only subconscious feelings, like a sudden craving for strawberries, or a tinge of intense, yet unexplained frustration. I once snapped at a friend for breathing too close to me, despite having no idea why I was so bothered by it. It was odd, sure, but it wasn’t my strangest day, either. That title is reserved for moments when the link is the strongest. 

The connection between two individuals in the thoughts system is believed to be strongest when one or both of them experiences exceptionally powerful emotions. In times of exhilarating excitement or crippling sorrow, the bond is so strong, they say it’s possible for the two souls to partially merge. What does that mean, exactly? Well, it’s a little hard to explain.

The first time it happened, I was fourteen, and my best friend, Rory, had just told me they were moving. Granted, they were only moving about an hour or two away, but I swear it felt like my entire body went cold. I’d known them since elementary school, and I couldn’t imagine how my life would be without them. My heart just snapped, but when it did, it felt like something else was put together. 

One moment, I was blinking back tears, looking into my friend’s eyes, and the next, I was in a small room with mirrors lining the walls. Except the person staring back at me in my reflection wasn’t me. A young boy, probably close to my own age, stood frozen in the mirror, jaw hanging open in shock. I glanced around the room, acutely aware of his head turning in the reflection with my movements. There was no sign of Rory, no sign of the park we were sitting in, no sign of me. 

My chest began to feel tight as I soon realized I had no idea where I was, or even who I was. How was I supposed to figure out how to fix it if I didn’t know what it was? I couldn’t just run up to a stranger and say I somehow switched bodies with a teenage boy I don’t know. And if I was there in his body, did that mean he was in...?

In the midst of my thoughts, a hand landed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my concentration, and effectively scaring the shit out of me. I jumped, instinctively elbowing the person behind me, and throwing their hand off as I stepped away. I heard a pained groan, and turned around to find another boy, clutching his stomach and swearing under his breath.

“Jinyoung, what’s the matter with you?!”

When he spoke, I knew it was in a language I couldn’t understand, shouldn’t have been able to understand, but was somehow able to comprehend.

“I-I don’t know who you’re talking about.” It was weird to hear a voice that wasn’t my own come out, even if I recognized that it wasn’t my mouth saying those words. It was even weirder when I realized I responded in the same language he was speaking. 

The boy sighed as he stood up straight with the roll of his eyes, “Seriously? I didn’t expect you to be one for jokes like this.” He took a step towards me, but stopped when I took an equal step back. “Jinyoung-ah, are you okay?” 

I tried to respond, to tell him that I’m not ‘Jinyoung’, that I’m definitely not okay, but something in my chest broke, and, suddenly, I wasn’t in the mirror room anymore. I was back on that park bench, Rory gripping my hand tightly with a worried expression on their face. It took a few hours for my parents to finally calm me down, and an even longer time for me to understand what the hell had happened to me. Why I had suddenly found myself in a random boy’s body, and why (as Rory would later tell me) he found himself in mine. At the end of the day, I came out of that situation with several confusing revelations.

One, I am in the thoughts system. My soulmate and I are connected in arguably the deepest, most personal way; through our thoughts. Two, ‘soul-swapping’, as they’ve termed it, is a rare event that can occur between two soulmates in the thoughts system. It’s what happened that day, and could happen again at just about any moment, given the connection is strong enough. And, finally, ‘Jinyoung’ wasn’t just some random boy. He’s my soulmate, and I’ve been trying to find him since that day.

“Miss L/N, care to join us back in class?” My psych professor’s voice abruptly breaks me out of my memories. My cheeks burn as I realize I’ve been zoned out for a good twenty minutes, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Shit. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and I’ve been warned multiple times to stop it. Professor Kim stares me down from the front of the classroom, and I shrink under his gaze.

“Sorry, Professor, I was just...”

“Lost in your thoughts?” A couple giggles sound from around the room. I glance down at my notebook, biting my lip. Why do I keep doing this? I literally cannot afford to be kicked out of the international study program. Not when I’ve come this far to find him. “Miss L/N?”

I look back up at Professor Kim, trying to ignore the burning in my face, “I’m sorry, Professor Kim. I promise I’ll pay attention from now on.” The professor nods, turning back to the board and resuming his lecture. I pick up my pencil with a sigh, forcing myself to focus, and keeping in mind why I came here in the first place.

Two years ago, I sat in my cramped dorm room, quite literally bored out of my mind.

“Hey, Jinyoung?”

“Y/N? What aren’t you asleep yet?” I scrunched my eyebrows, glancing out my dorm window at the, very much, daylight sky. 

“I’m...not tired yet, I guess.” It wasn’t uncommon for Jinyoung to say things like that, to get the time of day wildly off. It was part of what lead me to believe he must have lived somewhere far away, in a time zone where perhaps my day was his night.

“You should go to bed soon. Not getting enough sleep is bad for you, and you need it for your classes.”

I scoffed. Jinyoung practically knew my life to a T, yet I knew next to nothing about him, except that his name was Jinyoung, he was around my age, and that he lived in South Korea. I only found out about the last thing when I realized that the foreign language that I suddenly became fluent in during soul-swaps was, in fact, Korean. Other than that, he doesn’t like to share very much about himself, even though he had been talking more and more over the years. Honestly, it was kind of irritating.

“Jinyoung, how come you won’t tell me about where you live?”

“What do you mean? You know I live in Korea.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, but I have no idea where in Korea. And you didn’t even tell me that, I figured it out myself.”

“Why are you so interested suddenly?” I hesitated to respond, eyeing the pamphlet sitting on my nightstand. A number of my classmates had talked about stumbling upon their soulmates while studying abroad, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the same would work for me. I only needed to know where I had to go.

“I just...” I struggled to find an excuse. “I just want to know more about you. You know so much about me; where I live, what I’m studying, who my friends are. I worry sometimes that I really am only talking to a voice inside my head.”

Jinyoung went silent, and I was scared that I had gone too far. While I wasn’t technically lying about sometimes thinking he wasn’t real, it felt wrong to not tell him the truth behind my curiosity. Then again, every once in a while, I wonder if his response would have been the same, had I told what I was really planning.

After a few harrowing minutes of silence, Jinyoung finally responded.

“Seoul. I live in Seoul.”

I hum to myself as I push open the door to my dorm. I somehow managed to keep my mind in my own head for the rest of the day, but I now have a sudden craving for chocolate, and I have a feeling my own taste buds aren’t to blame. I trudge towards the kitchen, licking my lips as I remember I have a few candies stashed away in the back of our fridge. With any luck, I’ll be able to finish them off before my dormmates get home.

My hopes are quickly dashed, however, when I enter the kitchen to find my two roommates, Jieun and Soojin, have not only returned early, but are currently sitting on the counter, munching on my chocolate. My eyes narrow, and I drop my bag onto the floor with a resounding thud. Both girls’ heads whip towards me, shock and guilt written on their faces.

“Y/N! You’re home early!” Jieun smiles forcefully, attempting to subtly move the bag of candy behind her.

“And you look really pretty today, unnie,” Soojin adds. She hops off the counter, and outstretches her arms for a hug. I dodge out of her reach, and snatch what’s left of my chocolates out of Jieun’s hands.

“Yah!”

“Don’t you ‘yah’ me! These weren’t yours in the first place!” I pop a candy in my mouth, sticking my tongue out at them.

Soojin’s lips drop into a pout, “We just wanted to have a little, unnie. You always buy the best sweets.”

“Quit trying to butter me up,” I point a warning finger at her. “You took my candy without asking, and now you get to face the consequences.”

“What consequences? Are you going to give us the silent treatment?” Jieun laughs. “You wouldn’t know which way was up without us showing you around Seoul.” She jumps off the counter, opening the fridge, and pulling out what I assume is tonight’s dinner. Soojin giggles, covering her mouth when I fix her with a small glare.

“Excuse you, but I think my Korean has improved a lot, thank you very much.” Jieun and Soojin share a look.

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot,” Jieun teases. “That must be why you came home from the store with dog shampoo the other day.” Soojin erupts in laughter, giving Jieun a high five as her body shakes with glee. It’s my turn to pout, crossing my arms indignantly.

“I thought the dog was just another one of those cute brand characters!”

Jieun laughs, patting my head when I furrow my brows, “’Thought’ being the key word.”

“Speaking of thinking,” Soojin interjects as she takes a seat at the table, gesturing at me to follow. “How were your classes today, Y/N?” I sigh, going to pick out another chocolate when I realize the bag is now empty. I guess Jieun wasn’t kidding when she said there weren’t very many left. Tossing the empty candy bag in the trash, I walk towards the table and plop down in the chair across from Soojin.

“Same old, same old,” I hum, resting my chin on my hand. “I kind of...zoned out in Professor Kim’s class.”

Soojin quirks a brow, “Zoned out, or zoned out?”

“The second one.”

“Unnie, not again!”

“I know, I know! I don’t mean for it to happen,” I sputter. “It just...does.”

“Is Professor Kim the one who demands everyone speak in Korean, even though the class is for mostly international students?”

“Uh-uh,” Soojin shakes her head. “That’s Professor Song.”

“I thought she was the one who always extends due dates.”

“Guys!”

Jieun glances at me from her spot in front of the stove, “Oh, sorry, Y/N. We were just talking about the professors.”

“I know what you guys were talking about, I just...” Soojin reaches across the table, laying a comforting hand on my forearm.

“Y/N?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair, “I guess...it’s just getting to me a bit, you know? I can only spend so many years abroad with the costs and the credits I need to graduate, and it’s starting to feel like I’m not going to accomplish what I came to Seoul to do.” I shake my head, trying to get rid of the tingling feeling in the back of my mind. “It’s frustrating knowing he’s here somewhere, but having no idea if I have any chance of finding him.”

“Don’t say that!” Soojin cries. “You’ll absolutely find him! That’s the whole point of soulmates, after all!”

“I hate to admit it, but she’s right, Y/N. You came all this way, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time,” Jieun shrugs. “Besides, how many Jinyoungs can there possibly be?”

A frown etches itself across Jinyoung’s face. He really didn’t mean to eavesdrop on that conversation between Y/N and her roommates, but he did, and now he can’t get it out of his mind. How could he have not realized it sooner? In hindsight, he supposes there were quite a few things that made should have made it fairly obvious. Like how her sleep schedule suddenly became a lot more aligned with Korean Standard Time. How she hasn’t talked about her college friends for a while now. How her optimism is slowly declining as the efforts of her international search continue to be fruitless. Jinyoung wants to beat himself up for not noticing it before.

Y/N’s looking for him. She’s been looking for him. She came all the way to Seoul...for him. He briefly remembers the short conversation they had months ago, where he finally shared where he lived. She’d been curious for so long, he could feel it, but he was worried that revealing too much about himself would lead to her finding out who he is. That he’s not just Jinyoung, her soulmate. He knows how stressful being with an idol can be, and he reasoned with himself that he didn’t want to subject her to that.

But now he knows she’s out there, and even closer than before. She’s here, somewhere in Seoul, desperate to find him when he’s given nothing but the vaguest of clues. Jinyoung realizes that his idol status is not why he’s afraid of meeting her. He’s just afraid. Ever since he first discovered he is in the thoughts system, back when he was fifteen years old and just became a trainee, he has worried if he’ll ever match up to the idealized version she has of him in her mind. Y/N doesn’t know it, he promised himself he wouldn’t tell her until they really met, but he’s been falling for her since the day she first asked why he wants to strangle a certain maknae.

Jinyoung decides then and there that neither of them are going to wait much longer. He’s tired of only imagining what she looks like, dreaming about how it would feel to have her in his arms. He’s going to start putting in as much effort as she is, beginning with ‘persuading’ Jaebum to finally end practice for the night.

“Jaebum hyung,” Jinyoung calls for the leader’s attention. “I think that’s enough for today.” Jaebum raises a brow, and opens his mouth to respond when one of the maknaes beats him to it.

“Ah?” Bambam grunts from his place on the floor. “How come Jinyoung hyung gets to decide when practice ends? I wanna go home, too.”

“Because I don’t drain his pockets whenever we got out to eat.”

“That’s debatable,” Mark scoffs. “Remember that time at the karaoke bar-”

“Jinyoung’s right,” Jaebum interrupts. “We’ve been here long enough, and it won’t do any good to be sleep deprived tomorrow.” He glances at the exhausted members, all in various states of tiredness. “Let’s finish for the day.”

Sighs of relief ensue around the room, as everyone collects their belongings and slowly start to filter out the door. Jaebum is the last to leave, and Jinyoung sends him a nod of thanks as he exits. A feeling of determination is set in his chest, and he hopes he’s not too late to catch Y/N before she drifts off to sleep.

Jieun’s question sticks in my mind, plaguing me as I lay in bed that night. Yeah, there might not be a huge number of Jinyoungs in the world, but that doesn’t necessarily make my search any easier. I know enough about my Jinyoung; what he likes and dislikes, his mannerisms and habits. I like to think I’d be able to recognize him fairly easily. Unfortunately, that doesn’t necessarily mean I know what he looks like. The few times I’ve gotten a look at my soulmate have been during the few times we’ve soul-swapped, and that started to happen less and less as we’ve both matured. Not that I necessarily want them to happen, considering how damn disorienting they are, but what Jinyoung currently looks like as opposed to the last glimpse I got five years ago would be a great help.

I groan, running my hands down my face in an attempt to drown out my restless thoughts. This is so not what I want to be doing at ten minutes past midnight.

“Can’t sleep?”

His sudden appearance immediately sends a feeling of calm through my limbs. A smile ghosts my lips, as I close my eyes, and let my arms fall to my sides with a sigh.

“That obvious?”

He chuckles, “Just a little bit, yeah.”

I stopped trying to understand why I hear Jinyoung’s thoughts in English years ago. I just chalked it up to another weird quirk of the universe, and learned to be thankful of the mental translator between my mind and his.

“What are you doing up this late?” I ask.

“Thinking about you.”

“Jinyoung.”

“Okay, okay,” He laughs. “I just got out of practice. I was thinking about you, though.”

“Why are you practicing so late? It’s not good for your health.” I furrow my brows, realizing I sound just like he did a couple years ago.

“Maybe I like it when you worry about me.”

“...Seriously?”

He sighs, “I’m...preparing for something big at work. After it comes, I’ll be able to rest as much as I want.”

Something in the back of my mind tells me that’s not true, but I don’t mention it to Jinyoung. This isn’t the first time he’s had ‘something big’ coming up, yet he refuses to tell me anything he actually does at work. I keep having to remind myself that even though we’re soulmates and have been talking to each other for several years now, we don’t actually know each other, and I’m not entitled to that information. Doesn’t make it any less frustrating, though.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Did...did you really come to Seoul to find me?”

My heart stops. How did he...? I never told Jinyoung about coming to Korea. He’s always so private, I didn’t know how he would react if I did. How did he even find out?

Then I remember the feeling from earlier, the one in the back of my mind during my conversation with Jieun and Soojin.

“This little shit was listening in.”

“I’m being genuinely honest when I say I didn’t mean to.”

“‘Didn’t mean to’? Jinyoung, that was a private conversation!”

“And I apologize!” He stresses. “But you haven’t answered my question yet.”

“I...”

“Actually, wait, don’t answer it. I don’t want to do it like this.”

“...Jinyoung? Are you okay?”

“Y/N, how far away are you from Gyeongui Park?”

I tug my jacket closer to me in a vain attempt to fight off the chill night air. What the hell is Jinyoung thinking? What the hell am I thinking? It’s almost one in the morning, now is not the time for me to be wandering around Gyeongui Park, half an hour away from my dorm. I sigh, plopping myself down on a nearby bench, and staring up at the starry sky.

Jinyoung stopped responding shortly after I left the dorm. I have no idea what he’s doing, or why he wanted me to come to Gyeongui in the middle of the night. He seemed nervous about something, and, to be honest, I can’t tell if the rapid thrumming in my chest is his or my own. I take a deep breath, and close my eyes to collect my thoughts.

I’m sitting in a park, by myself, in the wee hours of the night because a voice inside my head told me to. A small laugh bubbles past my lips. God, I sound like someone straight out of some cheesy romcom. Or a B-rated horror movie. Jieun always tells me I would be the one to die first. I wonder if the murderer would go easy on me if I told them I’m waiting here for my enigmatic soulmate.

Suddenly, my ears pick up the unmistakable sound of gravel crunching under shoes. Someone’s getting closer, and my chest tightens at the realization. I try one last time to reach my soulmate.

“Goddamnit, Jinyoung, if I get stabbed tonight, I’m going to haunt your ass for the rest of your life.”

The footsteps stop. All I hear is the sound of my own breathing, and my heart thumping against my ear drums.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice gasps. “Shit, this is not the way I wanted this to go...”

My eyes flick open, and I realize why I recognize the woman’s voice. 

It’s mine.

I stare incredulously at my own face as my mind struggles to process what’s happening. If my body is there, then who...? I glance downwards, and everything starts to click into place.

“Jinyoung?” I ask tentatively, shiver running down my spine. “Is that you?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung sighs, and I try to ignore how bizarre it sounds hearing my own voice. “I...don’t really know what to do right now. This isn’t how I wanted us to meet for the first time.”

“Not in our own bodies?” He looks down, kicking at the dirt on the ground, and sullenly nods his head. He juts out my lower lip in a small pout, and I can’t help but laugh.

Jinyoung immediately perks up, “What are you laughing at? Our first meeting is ruined! Years of waiting for this moment, and we don’t even get to see what each other look like! How are you not upset?”

“Jinyoung,” I start, gently grabbing his (my?) hand, and leading us towards the nearby bench. “This is pretty weird for me, too. I’m speaking a language I don’t understand right now, and looking into my own eyes. It’s just freaking bizarre.” I take a deep breath, softly squeezing my hand. “But I honestly don’t mind. I don’t need to stress about a perfect first meeting when I already know you’re perfect for me.” Jinyoung’s gaze drifts down to our hands, and he slowly intertwines our fingers. There we go.

I blink, and suddenly I’m staring down at my hand, my own hand, being tightly gripped by another. My eyes trail from our joined hands, up his arm, until they finally meet his. A warm feeling spreads through my chest, and I bite my lip to stop the smile from stretching across my face.

“Hi,” I whisper, giggling at the way he beams at me.

“Hey, there.” I tilt my head in confusion. Is this the weird translator’s work?

“How are you...?”

Jinyoung chuckles under his breath, “I have some...friends that are fluent in English, and when they found out my soulmate is absolutely horrendous at Korean,” I lightly smack his shoulder with my free hand, and he laughs before continuing, “I was forcefully enrolled in express classes.”

“I’m trying my best!” I insist, remembering the conversation I had with the girls earlier this evening. It’s strange, really; that feels like a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been a couple hours. Jinyoung tugs on my hand, drawing my attention back to him.

“You know, you still haven’t answered my question.” My brow furrows as Jinyoung moves closer, eyes sparkling with something I can’t pinpoint.

“What do you mean?”

“You came all the way to Seoul just for me. I didn’t realize I was that important to you already. I must be pretty damn special.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes playfully, “Says the one who caused a soul-swap because he was so nervous to meet me.”

“Really? Because I seem to recall that happening because someone thought I lured them to the park to be murdered.”

“You were listening, you little shit!” I exclaim, and Jinyoung smiles, leaning towards me. “Why didn’t you answer?”

“Maybe because I was too busy thinking about how to tell you I’m in love with you.” 

I fall silent, watching the corners of Jinyoung’s lips turn up in amusement. His breath fans delicately across my face, forehead coming to rest against mine. My eyes remain locked in his gaze, and I start to feel warm despite the chill of the late night air. After what feels like an eternity, Jinyoung finally closes the distance between us. Our lips softly meet, and for a moment, I forget we’re sitting in a public park in the middle of the night. Jinyoung’s kiss is sweet, but passionate, his hands coming up to gently cradle my face between his palms. My eyes flutter closed, and I realize that I would sit on this bench with him forever if I could.  Unfortunately, people aren’t built for that, and our lungs do eventually need air. 

When we finally break apart, I feel lightheaded. Jinyoung’s eyes are bright and loving, and I can’t help but smile at him glowing under the moonlight.

“I love you, too, Jinyoung.”

oh, my god! hi! it’s certainly been a while since i posted a written piece like this, and it feels pretty good to get back into it! i took a break from writing prose for a bit to focus on my school work, and the semester’s coming to an end soon (which means finals) so i can’t necessarily say it won’t happen again. that said, i will try my best to keep writing and get more out.

if you liked this, and maybe want more got7 soulmate!aus, or even if you just want to see more of my stuff, i have links in my blog description to my most recent works and my entire masterlist! thanks for reading! -aly 💖

#jinyoung x reader #park jinyoung x reader #got7 jinyoung x reader #got7 x reader #got7 soulmate au #got7 fluff

[shmende]

Growing Out Of It: Pt. 1 - The Unexpected (Shawn Mendes)

In which the reunion of old school friends stirs up some uninvited feelings

No warning, just very slow burn-ish. Also roughly 4.2k words. Enjoy!

Mary-Anne shot an expectant glance from the other side of the bar, thin brows wrinkled and mouth straight. “Kid spilled her drink at 12.”

Judging by her exasperated tone, I obviously wasn’t the only one categorically done with LLV’s Kid’s Sundays. I liked kids, I really did, but they were still a pain in the ass sometimes. 

And the parents.

I sighed, remembering the run-in with a particularly nasty mother last Sunday who had insisted that her little five-year-old wouldn’t - couldn’t - consume our fatty french fries, which, by the way, were literally the food about seventy percent of LLV’s costumers came here for, and complained about how we, as a restaurant, endangered her child’s health.

Fucking tourists.

Usually I liked my job, really, it was quite fun, quite sociable, it paid the bills (the horrendously high bills in Toronto), and I couldn’t recall too many unpleasant encounters with costumers, Canadian customers, but those Americans. Sometimes Europeans, too. They could be arseholes.

Desperately wishing for a nice, peaceful family at 12, I grabbed a few napkins, a wet wash cloth and made my way over along the dark, wooden bar, through the black maple pillars and the maze of birch tables, all filled with happy families, some with only one kid, some with grandparents and some pushed together to accommodate all six children. I waved at Tina and Felix, Jonah and Tracy (I hadn’t remembered the names of the little twins yet) and nodded at Mr. and Mrs. Crubick. They made it to every Kid’s Saturday. 

Today they sat at 15, meaning that I was only three tables away. And yes, I probably should’ve noticed the woman crouched on the floor a few metres down and a toddler wiggling her arms, barely reaching above the table top, a wee bit earlier. Because then I definitely wouldn’t have stepped into the wet patch on the floor, stumbled and almost lost my balance. 

The woman looked up, her short blonde hair messed up and shirt battered with a few light yellow stains. She looked exhausted. “I’m so, so sorry. Little Amy was way too excited about her apple juice.”

“No, ma’am. It’s all fine, no worries. This happens all the time here.” I said, getting to work with my wash cloth. 

The woman sighed. “Sorry to cause such mayhem, Miss. I’m sure you weren’t planning to wipe the-”

“Miss, Miss!” A light voice interrupted. 

The woman and I turned our heads to the toddler. She was cute, wearing pigtails and ribbons and a little chain with plastic bananas around her neck. Her brown eyes were wide. 

“I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to show Mummy something. Look, I drew her a picture! It’s the big tree in our garden.”

I smiled at her. “That’s a pretty picture. Hey, Amy, right? Do you want me to tell you a secret?”

She nodded eagerly. The woman got back on her feet as I finished up the floor as well as I could. Then I turned back to the girl and started wiping the table. The woman settled back into her seat, lifting her cup and motioning at the little one to secure her drawing utensils.

“Listen, Amy, you see the tall guy over there, behind the bar? The one with the brown hair and yellow shirt, like the one I’m wearing?” The girl nodded. “His name’s Matthew. He’ll make you a new juice if you draw him a pretty picture. How’s that sound?”

The girl gave an excited squeak. Then she wriggled in her seat and got to work. 

Her mother smiled broadly, relieved, and thanked me. I smiled back before returning to the bar, taking a few orders and waving at Felix and Tina again.

“You’re too nice.”

I shrugged at Mary-Anne, occupied with typing the orders into our tablet.

“Matthew’s gonna cut off your tips one day, you know.” 

Mary-Anne was 48 with wild brown curls that she kept in the tightest bun and piercing black eyes. She had a son in drama school in Lethbridge and in constant disagreement with her, especially because she’d desperately wanted her son to become a doctor. Still, she was much more of a delight to be around than any other adult in my life.

“No, he won’t. He knows the importance of good customer service,” I said pointedly, before snapping my eyes to my unbelievably tall boss and catching him with a grin on his lips. “Hey, Matt, you’re gonna get a drawing from an adorable little girl in exchange for an apple juice. Please don’t disappoint her.”

Matthew shot me a thumbs-up. Mary-Anne scoffed, but a small smile lingered on her lips.

She’d been working at LLV for ages, years before I’d started and she had used to be distant at first, insisting I’d only gotten the job because my chem tutor Will was an old friend of Matt’s. Which wasn’t necessarily wrong. I’d been in desperate need for a way to keep the bills paid while studying at U of T and ever since my parents had cut the money chords, I’d been barely scraping by. But I had proved myself. I had Matt now. And Mary-Anne. And the LLV. 

And life didn’t seem as pointless as it had used to. 

“Hey, Teddy just came in.” Matt said suddenly, making me whip my head to the door.

“Usual spot?”

After his small nod I grabbed the little notepad and sauntered over to the round tables by the window front, right by the terrace, and spotted her familiar mop of brown hair and gesticulating arms. She was with two guys and another girl, all dark-haired and wearing light coloured shirts. I felt like a burst of spring in my yellow top.

And I wasn’t even fully at the table when Teddy waved at me frantically. “Lacey! How you been?”

I grinned. Teddy was one for the books. Always happy, always bubbly. One of my favourite customers, especially on Kid’s Sunday. 

“Now that you’re here I’m fantastic. How’re you, back in your old space?”

She laughed. “My favourite space,” and tapped the birch table twice. I took the opportunity to look over her company, my gaze getting stuck at a certain face, adorned with curls and a bright smile. No way.

My grin became involuntarily bigger. 

“Shawn? Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Obviously this was a blatant lie. I’d seen him everywhere. On billboards, on magazines, on TV, YouTube, Instagram...the guy was all over. But years ago, when he hadn’t been a world-famous singer, he’d just been the guy sitting next to me in Algebra, struggling on problems and having a laugh if we got it totally wrong. And English Lit. Oh, and biology. Kind of.

Shawn’s eyes lit up. “Lacey Windsor? The Lacey Windsor?”

“Yes! Oh my god, this is-” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because Shawn sprang up and pulled me into a hug, tight and friendly. I grimaced upon remembering the last time we’d hugged. Actually, the last time we’d even seen each other. Graduation. 2016.

I leant back from the hug, mind flashing to that warm night in June and how we’d danced like idiots, sneaked drinks into our gym and sat on the bleachers after the parents had left. Katherine, Ivy, Brian, Shawn and I, not my usual crowd, but Lisa and Theo had been impossible to keep trace of the whole night (ah, yes, young love) and so I’d somehow ended up with the cool music squad after Shawn had taken pity on me and called me over. Only to be sat next to my on-and-off crush of almost two years for the next something hours. It had been a great night. I still called Ivy a very good friend to this day.

“It’s so nice to see you, Lacey! How have you been?” Shawn sat down again, staring up at me expectantly. Suddenly I felt jittery.

“Yeah, I’ve been good. What about you? What are you up to nowadays, rockstar?” The nickname rolled over my lips too comfortably, considering the last time I’d called him that.

He laughed shortly, opening his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Teddy’s slow drawl of a voice, which was one of the things I liked most about her. She didn’t let anyone rush her.

“Wait, you two know each other?”

I wanted to giggle at her raised brows and dropped jaw; also, I wanted to cry at the suddenness of this situation. I’m just as surprised as you, Teddy, trust me. Her fingers dangled in the air, motioning between Shawn and I.

“Yeah, we sat next to each other in school.”

“Algebra was a bitch, wasn’t it?” Shawn immediately regressed to talking to me again, looking up through his long lashes and with his signature grin; and I was 16 all over again. Shit.

Before I could even try to answer, Teddy spoke up. “So, like, you two have been totally unaware that you’ve practically been living in the same street for what - almost a year?”

I shrugged unsurely, feeling incredibly out of place. “I guess?”

Life had a funny way of playing out sometimes. Then I gaped (How did she know where I live?), but was once again cut off by Teddy who continued with a quip in her voice, eyes glistening with mischief. Oh, she was enjoying this.

“Yeah, remember when I drove you home that night, Lacey? When you were drunk out of your mind? I even said that you live conveniently close to the guy I write songs with. Remember?” Her drawl changed into a chuckle. “You were so confused about my job...”

It clicked. Of course I remembered. Three months ago, the night Teddy had become more than a customer - a mutual, an acquaintance, a friend. In other words, an enigma with the most intriguing life I’d ever witnessed (except for, you know, the guy I went to High School with who rose to international stardom before even graduating). I shook my head at her. Unbelievable.

“Wait...so you mean to tell me that the girl you’ve been wanting me to meet is Lacey Windsor? Lacey Windsor from my High School? That’s too much of a coincidence.” Shawn stared intensely at Teddy. I kind of wanted to crawl into a hole. Had she been trying to set us up? 

Sure, we’d had a heart-to-heart once, had been somewhat friends ever since then (and I might’ve told her how much I used to like Shawn Mendes when he was still my ‘dirty little secret’, by which I had actually meant High School classmate) but apart from that, I’d pretty much only been her waitress. The only thing special about me was my great sense of favouritism.

And she’d wanted Shawn to meet me?

Teddy looked between Shawn and I, visibly disappointed in the new developments. “Well, my plan to get you two laid obviously backfired.”

My jaw dropped and I sputtered for a moment, alarmed. “You - we...what do you mean get us two laid?!”

My voice got unexpectedly shrill at the end and Teddy had definitely picked up on it. She was smirking now. I felt Shawn’s gaze on the side of my face, with mouth still hanging open and I wondered if he had noticed too. I ignored him. Don’t ruin this. Shawn cannot know about your childish High School crush on him. He has millions of female admirers now. He’s a fucking teenage heartthrob.

Teddy and Shawn were suspiciously quiet. (Probably freaked out.) My face heated up. How would I get out of this without making it awkward?

I cleared my throat. “Well, thanks for your concern, Teddy,” I shot her a pointed look, “but I don’t need you to get booty calls for me. I can manage on my own just fine actually.” Then I looked at the two unknown witnesses on the table, gripping my pencil tightly and ignored Teddy’s glinting eyes. She still found this amusing.

I jotted down everyone’s orders, making contact with lingering eyes and timid voices. Maybe my outburst had been a bit, well, much. I wasn’t usually this harsh, especially not with customers, but seeing Shawn like this, completely unexpected (even though obviously kind of planned - what the fuck, Teddy?) and immediately being accused of needing to get laid in front of him and also by him, that had been a bit much, too.

To put it nicely, I was kind of pissed. I had not envisioned catching up with my crush from algebra and English and biology through a dumb booty call. And a failed one, at that. 

I avoided their table for the rest of the day, even though the four had already been out the door only two hours later. Teddy holding her phone up on the way out and warning me of a call that was to ensue later while Shawn had twisted his lips into something distantly resembling a smile and had given me a short wave. I was miserable. 

“You overreacted, Lacey. Teddy was just trying to be nice. How could she’ve known that you know him and that you’ve admired him from afar like a middle schooler for ages?”

Mary-Anne was huffing and puffing, scrubbing the surface of the bar that Matt had - as usual - made a mess of.

“And she was right too. You haven’t been with someone in a while. You’re twenty-one, for god’s sake, get out there more! When I was your age, let me tell you –“

Basically, she blurred the line between mum and best friend a lot. Not to mention brooding older colleague, which was a role she only seemed to play when the LLV was overflowing with customers and sometimes, that truly was my favourite.

I groaned quietly, staring past her and sorting through today’s empty glass bottles. Clear in the red basket, green in the clear, plastic in the massive IKEA bag. Yeah, maybe not indulging in Mary-Anne’s talk would make her shut up. Maybe, hopefully.

“And Lacey Windsor, he is handsome, that Shawn guy,” she continued after a short silence. My face contorted into a whine. My heart raced. Handsome. He is handsome. Was handsome. In High School. Shit.

Aren’t you supposed to grow out of childish crushes at some point?

“And he was so polite, dear. You should give him a shot! Maybe just give him a ring? Shame if not, he was so into you too. Downright sad when I brought the food and not you, he was. You should’ve seen it!”

Now I whined out loud. “Stop, Mary-Anne. Please. I can’t -”

She had the audacity to giggle. “Can’t what? Contain the butterflies?” Whistling and grinning, she focused back on wiping the bar. I pierced her with a glare, a mixture of annoyance and disgust at her giddiness. When had my life become the subject of entertainment for other people? First Teddy, now Mary-Anne?

She was about to wipe down the sink when she chirped, “Man, I wish I was young again,” and I cracked, exclaiming,

“Mary-Anne, it’s not as fun as it seems.”

She winked and my cheek twitched. On my way out, I caught sight of a drawing attached to the far left liquor cabinet: a stick-figure with a yellow shirt and brown ponytail, carrying a massive pen in its hand. It was signed with scraggly letters, crooked but genuine. A-M-Y.

Teddy didn’t call that night. She came back to LLV three days later, on a Wednesday evening as I was covering for Matt on the bar. It was getting cold already in Canada and the flu had hit last week. Which also meant that LLV was unusually (and conveniently) empty.

“Lacey, I’m so sorry about Sunday,” she said, sliding into the bar stool right across from me. “I didn’t even mean the whole getting laid thing, it was supposed to be a joke. And I absolutely didn’t mean to offend you or something, or to meddle in your love life, but I just thought it’d be nice for you to meet someone to distract you from Nate and, let’s be honest, that dry spell of yours has been going on for three fucking months and I thought-”

I staggered, taken aback, and decided I needed to step in before she went too far with her rambling, “Well, hello to you too, Teddy,” I said, clipped, and continued mixing the Cuba Libre the blonde surfer dude from 7 had ordered, torn somewhere between laughing and fuming.

When she remained silent, I brusquely added, “Didn’t know you were so familiar with my sex life,” and stared at her. She shrunk slightly.

“Listen, I know we don’t exactly know each other in a conventional way and I didn’t mean to overstep.” Then she squared her shoulders and I knew I was in for a lecture. “But honey, it’s also not exactly rocket science to figure you out.”

I raised my brows in indignation. “Sorry?”

The relationship between her and I was weird, to say the least. We were mostly business. Waitress-customer kind of thing. But then, once I had cried in front of her because of Nate and she’d taken my drunk ass home, she came by in the evenings, sat down at the bar and asked me how I was doing. Eventually, I became curious and returned the question, and so we’d been bonding over the noises of my colleagues, costumers in all kinds of moods and the sound of the cocktail shaker for about three months. As the time went by, we became mutuals who saw each other once in a while and chatted about life, nothing serious, but also not nothing.

“Lacey,” she sighed, looking at me with her big blue eyes. Sometimes I despised her for being eight years older - and probably wiser. “I’m not stupid. You obviously haven’t been with anyone since Nate. No, don’t give me that look. You reek of sexual frustration.”

I gasped. “Excuse me?!”

This was new. Discussing our sex lives when we had usually focused more on my rather embarrassing moping about past loves. I slapped her forearm. “It’s only been two months and we really shouldn’t be discussing this here.” I gestured around the business of LLV, then moved to finish the Cuba Libre and put it on my tray. And I was off, leaving Teddy alone at the bar, shuffling to 7 and back, getting stopped to take orders a few times. Where on earth was Mary-Anne when you needed her?

“So,” Teddy’s voice filled my ears as soon as I got behind the bar again, only to be interrogated. “I did the maths. Two months? Who on earth did you lure in between your thighs and didn’t even bother mentioning it to me? Remember me? The person you cried to after you and Nate broke up?”

I gave her a pointed look. Then I shrugged, done with trying to keep the secret. All my dignity was already out the window anyways. “Nate.”

Teddy’s jaw was on the ground for the next minutes that I spent recalling the events of that Thursday evening in early September where I had randomly called Nate because of a bad day, just to hear his voice. And how he’d actually been in Toronto for a few days and thinking about calling me too; how we’d somehow ended up grabbing dinner and talking about all the good times we’d had and then the bad times and how he regretted having to break up but loved his job in Vancouver. And then a good-hearted hug had led to lingering eye-contact and rough breathing led to kissing and spending the night on his friend’s couch.

Teddy regained her composure, sitting up straight. “So you’ve had your closure now?”

I nodded, reassured because she didn’t seem to judge, and then turned to the coffee machine to make her an Espresso. We bathed in the silence for a bit, not knowing what the other was thinking and also not particularly caring to disrupt, until Teddy initiated,

“Well, I had hoped you’d know by now but I gave Shawn your number.”

I whipped my head to face her. “You did what?”

She held her hands up, surrendering. “I know, I’m sorry. But he was persistent. And I really don’t get why you insisted on ignoring us that hard on Sunday. Did he do something to you in school?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Have you met Shawn?”

“Yeah, right. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Teddy rested her chin on her palms, studying my face as I concentrated on the coffee machine. I was doing a miserable job of concealing the twisty feeling in my stomach. Just thinking about what Teddy might’ve told him about me prior to coming on Sunday. Did he think lowly of me now? Working as a waitress, struggling to pay bills and apparently relying on customers to get laid? No, he wasn’t like that. I knew him. Had known him for years. 

“So, what I’m guessing is this,” she was back with the drawls, “You were embarrassed.”

She radiated mischief and satisfaction, even more when I moved to shake my head. A poor attempt at dignity. 

She erupted in a toothy grin. “Don’t even try denying. You are so easy to read.”

I put the hot Espresso in front of her with a huff and a red face. How dare she?

“Then again, so is Shawn; he was burning to talk to you the whole time. I’m actually really surprised he hasn’t texted you yet.”

Teddy was saying all this very nonchalantly while blowing on her Espresso, like she hadn’t just revealed that Shawn had obviously been thinking about me too. I stared at her taking a sip. Then she looked up at me. I was distressed. Shawn? Burning to talk to me? 

We’d gone two years without talking to each other and graduation seemed like another lifetime already. I tensed. It felt so long ago that he’d taken my hand on the way to my house. And it felt even longer ago that his breath had fanned my face when he’d let go of the hug at my door, when he’d kept his hands around my waist and looked from my eyes to my lips. 

And that final, infinite moment right before I’d leant in, all ragged breathing and beating hearts and my first real kiss.

(Now that felt like an outer body experience at this point.)

I’d never told him that he was my first kiss, of course. We’d looked at each other afterwards; him scratching the back of his neck, me fiddling with the straps of my bag. The empty glass bottles rumbled inside it and I had hesitated when I said, “That...That was nice and all, but, and don’t get me wrong, I’m drunk and this was probably a mistake. I guess, you know, you’re a rockstar and practically on a world tour in a few days.”

And he’d lingered for a second, then nodded and well, then he was gone. For two years. Gone, but never really. It had proved quite difficult to ignore his existence when he became a celebrity. So I’d done the only thing any reasonable person trying to get over a crush did: Unfollowed him every-fucking-where and changed the radio station when a song of his came on. The only real connection I still had to him was my friend Ivy, but she had understood to shut up about him in front of me. Especially when I got with Nate a year and a half ago.

Somewhere around that time, I’d also gotten a new phone and I hadn’t even bothered to text him my new number. Still, I found myself wondering if our kiss had meant anything to him like it had to me back then. 

I suddenly jerked my head, willing that thought out of my mind. Which didn’t go unnoticed by Teddy.

“Windsor, why am I getting the expression that you two have history?”

Clicking my tongue, I delved into the story.

Seven hours later, I laid in bed. Phone in hand and Shawn on my mind. My tiny room had nothing but a glass laptop table from IKEA, my wooden childhood bed and a few clothes racks (also IKEA, naturally). The rest of my stuff was stored in an array of cardboard boxes beneath the window, labelled with creative tags like cheap high-tech (chargers and various cables I had no idea how to use), pics to laugh at, pics to cry at, good books, trash books or, my favourite, a massive binder that read paid bills. I was a picture perfect (broke) university student.

My room was also freezing because I had forgotten to close my window this morning and I heard the faint sound of my roommates Timothy and Charlotte respectively watching movies in their rooms. Sucks to be sandwiched.

I envisioned what Shawn’s apartment must look like. It was probably really spacious, with big windows and high-ceilings. Minimalistic in furniture and full of music stuff. My fingers hovered over the keyboard; I stared at his contact info. Shawn Mendes.

Who was I kidding? What would I even text him? And would he even bother to reply at all?

I decided not knowing was better than being disappointed. At least I could still entertain my fantasies that way.

PART TWO??

#shawnmendes #shawnmendesfic #shawnmendesfanfic #shawnmendesfluff #shawnmendesangst #fluff #angst #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes x oc #shawn mendes reader #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes text post #writing #fanfic #first post #ashtonwahs

[incognitowetrust]

I am a selfish person. Long incoherent rambling time.

There’s no way to get this out in a well written thing without taking fucking forever. 

But it’s something that bothers me about myself. Actually, I just wrote a thing in a Discord chat, and I’m basically gonna copy-paste the damn thing because I don’t want to rewrite the whole thing. I’ll add a bit more on than the initial thing though. 

I usually don't vent, but I'm just gonna do a small one because I feel like mentioning it to someone. A friend person I made recently is on the spectrum like me and around the same age, and she's nice and all, but I have the same problem with her that I've noticed I have with some other people, and it makes me feel awful and also annoys the fuck outta me. Her drawing style is pretty basic, and I'm happy to see people get excited about their characters but her characters aren't technically interesting, and she messages a lot and recently I did say "hey listen I'm not gonna reply to every message" because I like to be upfront about that shit just so people know... but anyway, it's hard to describe, but she falls into like a specific type of person that I can relate to and still have love for but I find myself wanting to avoid and I can't actually grow off of them. 

Like... it's awful because it reminds me of when I was like ages 13-15 and actually learning social things that other people already knew just because of me lacking friendship experience and only just having made artist friends, and I cringe at my past self but understand it at the same time, and I have to be understanding towards people because I understand what it's like to be there, and I always want to be the person I needed when I was younger. But... I mean... is it selfish to pick and choose who I "like" based on standards like... "experience" and "skills"? I mean, I often haven't been brave enough to interact with "cool" people anyway, but... fuck, I wiiish that I couuuld be liike the coool, kidsss, like the coool kiiiids.

I wonder if some of my feelings relate all the way back to elementary school, I was often paired with this one autistic girl, who I didn't have anything against (though tbh she did have some gross habits and she was hard to talk to at a young age), she and I were always the slowest in PE, always the quiet lonely kids, always the kinda pudgy and awkward girls, and I guess I felt myself pushing away from her not because I didn't like her but because of my strong sense of wanting my own identity and didn't want to always be stuck with her "just 'cuz" she was the only partner who was left over when other kids made partners.

Something that I also wonder is, well, I have an older sibling on the spectrum, but diagnosed early. I was diagnosed at 18. My parents have always tried to be fair as far as making sure we both get the attention we needed, but still, I was pretty much the older sibling because for much of our childhoods my sister and I did everything together, and I was very protective of her. The only reason I have ever punched anyone was because someone stole her glasses and I punched the girl to get them back after trying to politely reason didn’t work. We were so close, but somewhere around puberty I started breaking off from her, I became more and more hungry for my own identity, and our interests and activities grew apart as well. At this point in my life, I don’t really chat with my sister much, or do a ton of sisterly activities with her, and I think I basically avoid her because I don’t want to get mad at her for stupid little pet peevey reasons. I admit, there’s some of me that resents that I’ve had to make sacrifices because of her, I could never hum or sing because of her sound sensitivity, and nowadays sometimes I have to be the one to receive a text to relay a message to my sister because she often either doesn’t notice texts, or doesn’t have her phone on at all. I remember in 2016 in the past, it was around the peak of a shitty time in my life, a school staff member came up and asked how my sister was doing and what she was doing. I was salty and grumpy, and basically said “I don’t know” and “I don’t really care” because I’m not her damn babysitter, and if it’s SO important to ya, lady, you can probably just email her. Though, oh yeah, my sis hadn’t always checked her emails either. 

Look, I’m not gonna act like I don’t have my problematic quirks. I do take out garbage and vacuum, but I avoid problems even if I remember there’s something I’m supposed to do, and I procrastinate. It’s also very easy for me to forget or ignore something unless it’s right under my nose, but I admit, often it’s just me acting out of avoidance. 

Something that I think I’ve developed is... I have a huge want to love and be loved in return, I want to take care of people and feel like I matter to someone, but on the other hand besides my mom and a few adults rocking pulling me through life I’ve kinda picked up on behaviors of “Other people have problems. They gotta be taken care of. I should help. I am lazy and not all that troubled anyway, so I don’t need to share my problems with others.” ... I want to take care of others and be a good listener, but I resent it at the same time. I resent that while I’m out trying to take care of people, I don’t feel like I can be vulnerable and let someone take care of me. Because I also don’t want to let myself be vulnerable and rely on someone enough so that if I made a “friend” and lost them that I’d be legit hurt. 

I’m left with even more weird feelings about myself, remembering and considering things I know about my own family members now that I didn’t know the same about when I was young, like my mom, who I credit as being the most important person in my life, she’s the oldest of 5. She was really another parent. Look, I don’t care how close your family is, or how loving they are, when ya got a big family, the oldest child becomes another parent. And they lived in Saudi Arabia for a while, where at one point the family got in a bad car accident and my gramma was wheelchair bound and immobile, and though my mom lost use of one of her arms for a while she took up the brunt of a lot the taking-care-of-people work. She’s badass, but so many responsible people, as much as suffering builds character, there’s a lot that so many people like this shouldn’t of had to do. My aunt Santos (partner of one of my aunts) was the “tough” child... sure, her parents can praise her for never having to give her help, but it doesn’t matter how “normal” or how “capable” you are, everyone should be able to feel like they can be vulnerable and be taken care of sometimes. Something I’ve come to try and remember a lot is you never know what pain people are actually going through, so while I do want to take care of myself, I always ask my mom when she comes home how her day was. She’s mentioned to me in the past that as a parent there’s the dilemma of “do I show I’m troubled so my child knows I’m human and it’s okay to be upset, or do I hide my troubles for the sake of their comfort?” ... but now that I’m older, I assume this gave a lot more leeway for me to be a listener. She still takes care of me way more than I take care of her, but I do things with her and listen to her in ways that my sister doesn’t necessarily do automatically. 

I guess back to more of the original subject, I’ve actually had a friend for many years now, or at least I’ve certainly known them for many years and we became friendly a little later, she isn’t diagnosed with autism, but she still fits in the category of “nice people who I sometimes want to avoid for some reason”. It’s awful, this person has great respect for me, and we even made a couple OCs together, but I’ve had times sitting here in my chair wondering “how do I respond to this?” or “Should I feel bad I’m not as excited about this one thingy as she is?” and “Aw man I wanna talk to someone. No, not you right now. I’m being a choosing beggar.” like who the fuck do I think I am to not be loving on this person who only holds me in the highest of regards?? 

But here’s the thing I guess. No matter what, there are a few important things in friendships, or really any relationship. Communication, and mutual enjoyment. It doesn’t have to be the choice fault of one or both people that something doesn’t like up, often people just don’t line up. I mean, lots of romantic relationships end not because people hate each other but because two perfectly decent people feel hungry for something else. As long as I treat people with basic human respect, I can’t be too hard on myself can I? There’s so so many people I could choose to have as the few I have regular conversations with at a time, but I tend to fall into routines, and there’s only so much time in the day, so this impacts my social capabilities a lot. I can only talk to people how I want to talk to people on my own time. I wish I could hear everyone’s stories and carry a small piece of them around with me all the time, but it’s tiring as fuck, man. 

I want to be around people who inspire me so badly I am thrown into euphoria, the rare euphoria I only get when I have a friendly interaction with someone I didn’t think would have the time or interest to notice me. I technically have really good reading, writing, and drawing skills, but I need to push myself, I need people to bounce off of so I feel motivated to impress and not be lazy. I’m constantly starved for that stimulation and positive reinforcement. 

I’ll end this here I suppose. 

#personal #vent #long rant

[petergrantkavinsky]

Victoria Aveyard - Dymocks Books Event in Sydney, Australia | April 26, 2018

- “I’m doing short stories in the RED QUEEN world to come out next year. That will involve whoever makes it out of WAR STORM. (audience laughs) We’ll tell you who. We’re gonna have some fun new stuff, including actual stories with characters we know, an original story with characters we don’t know set in the same world at the same time. I’m really excited to sort of weave around to pieces and have people who are hearing about what’s going on and the way they are misinterpreted. I think it will be really fun for me, doing more worldbuilding information, some maps—I love doing maps—so it will be fun to get that together.”

- [on writing Mare] “I think most writers draw on things they see in the real world, things they see in themselves, things they want themselves to be, things they don’t want themselves to be. It was really amazing to write a character like Mare and have things that I want to be but also have tons of things or have her make decisions that I would never make either because I’m not strong enough or not stupid enough. (audience laughs) It was very cool. It's almost like vicarious living through her situation and make mistakes and be messy and sometimes go down the wrong path. I was really happy to write a flawed female heroine, although it’s almost funny when you have to talk about ‘flawed women,’ when you say ‘flawed’ you just mean ‘real.’ We never really talk about our flawed men that way.”

- [on being politically vocal] “I think the main reason I have become more vocal politically—at least on my own social media—is because however small my platform is, I have a platform, and I’m not happy about the way things are going in the United States, in and out of the world, so I feel like I should be able to talk about it if I want to. It’s really interesting to get pushed back, ‘stick to your books,’ ‘stick to writing fantasy,’ ‘take the politics out [of your books].’ Every work of art is political in some way. If you missed it, that’s not my problem. I was speaking about this earlier, fantasy in politics and people criticizing that nowadays. And I get a lot of ‘you put too much current politics and current events’ in the last book of the RED QUEEN series, KING’S CAGE. I wrote that book before the 2016 election, and if you are reading certain politicians in this book, that’s not my fault, that’s your fault, and I’m sorry that you are reading your guy in this evil character. (audience laughs) So what does that say about this person? It’s interesting to just trying to write in this climate. I know a lot of authors, a lot of us struggled in those first few months in 2016 as well because it was just so difficult to get back on track because we felt like maybe we aren’t doing enough and do we need to do more? But then, it’s also like our creating these worlds and creating these books especially for people of color or of different marginalizations, it is an act of political progression. We choose to do that. And it’s really important to keep doing our jobs and keep moving forward and keep insulating ourselves so that we can still keep talking, and it’s nice that people listen sometimes.”

- [on throwing obstacles for her characters] “One of the best writing tactics—and it helps even if you’re not thinking about it, even if you’re not thinking this is the way I need this character to change—is throwing obstacles on their way, just making things as difficult for them as humanly possible. A lot of people ask ‘why did she kill off this certain character?,’ and I’m like because removing him would make things more difficult physically and emotionally. And the same with another character, removing her made things more difficult physically and emotionally for another character. I’m trying to avoid spoilers, just in case. But yeah, it is about that. And hopefully, you know a character well enough from the beginning that once you start throwing obstacles in the way, they start reacting organically in the way that that person would.”

- Q: At the end of KING’S CAGE, we’ve got Cal has kind of lost everything; we’ve got Maven has everything his mother wanted but not anything he wanted for himself; and Evangeline is desperate to see the undoing of all the plans that could get her what she originally wanted the most. Whose resolution was the most difficult for you?

VA: “They are all difficult in their own way because there is a point where you care about these people in some way, and you understand them; even the worst of your characters, you have to understand their motivations. They can’t just be evil for the sake of being evil, or you’ll never be able to write them. You do understand at their core not necessarily something good but something you could relate to. So for all of them, in some way I wanted a resolution that was good, but then at the same time, I wanted a resolution that was not necessarily good as well. I wanted something that was going to work for the story because at the end of the day, especially in books like this—there’s war, there’s rebellion, there’s oppression, there’s a price to be paid—it might feel great to finish and have the characters be married and have a baby on the way, and everything’s happy. But sometimes that doesn’t work. Sometimes that works because it’s been so dramatized that you need that moment and you need that closure that they came out of this okay. And I think for other books it doesn’t necessarily work. There has to be a price somewhere, and it’s interesting figuring out what that price is and how much I can do and still have an audience feel like they’re satisfied. I get a lot of questions ‘Will I be upset?,’ ‘Will I be happy at the end of this?’ Number one, I don’t know what you want, so I don’t know if you’ll be happy. But I know, based on the ending, physically because there can only be one ending, and a lot of people want one, or they want another. It can only be one of the two. I know that some people might be upset, some people might be happy, but hopefully, no one will be bored. That’s my number one thing. I never ever wanna bore you. I am an entertainer, first and foremost, so I want to give you a good time. My job is to strap you into the roller coaster and send you on your way. Hopefully, that’s what happens.”

- [on writing WAR STORM] “That was really fun to write, the splintering of alliances and the forming of new alliances. It was really cool. One of the first things I did before I wrote WAR STORM was I wrote down all the factions and all the different alliances and characters, and I drew lines between all of them. Who was allied with who? Who was gonna betray who? Who was actually allied with this person? It was really fun and also confusing.”

- [on writing her super dramatic climax] “I am a child of HARRY POTTER. I was nine when I read the first book; I was 17 when the last one came out. I was a little bit abused by waiting for those books every two or three years, and I just wanted to inflict that pain on someone else. (audience laughs) Luckily, you guys get it once a year. Also, A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE, GAME OF THRONES books. I remember reading those and throwing them, covering the end of chapters as I was reading. So I’ve been trying to sort of do that to my readers and make every chapter kind of end on something and then each book end on something. That’s a great way to trick you guys into reading the next one. I gotcha. I get a lot of reader responses about ‘Oh my God, there’s like 30 pages left, and this thing is not getting resolved. What the heck,’ or ‘Everything’s happy now, but there’s 200 pages left. I’m very scared.’ (audience laughs) It’s a fake-out. I love to mess with you guys.” 

- [on ending WAR STORM] “One of the key points of story—this is in film as well and television, as well as books—is escalation. You always want to be outdoing yourself. There are definitely set pieces or moments that I had in the back of my mind and thought to myself ‘I cannot use that until the fourth book.’ And then there were things where you introduce something and say ‘this has to happen.’ For example, in the third book, there is a battle between two characters because one of them is being mind-controlled to fight the other one. And I knew as soon as soon mind control was introduced in the first book, that was eventually going to happen because that’s what you inherently want to happen. You want to see these two characters go at it hammer and tongs, but you have to figure a way to do that. It’s just really fun to have certain moments where you’re like ‘this has to happen,’ and ‘How do I get it to happen?’ and ‘Where can it go so that it won’t outdo whatever’s coming after?’ WAR STORM was interesting, trying to escalate all that has already been done, and hopefully, it did it. […] I really love the final set piece in [WAR STORM] because it has big, big, big moments and really small really high-stake moments. Staging is something we learn [in school/university]. What can I do to make this scene more interesting? Add a rainstorm. What can you do to make this scene where they’re just talking to each other—how do we make that more interesting? Oh, have one of them be in a bathtub.” 

- Q: Where did Maven come from?

VA: “The complexity of Maven, like that big twist in the first book, that was in my head from the very, very beginning. That was one of the reasons why I even finished writing that book is because I was so excited to get to that scene. (audience laughs) When the book was just in manuscript, I fantasized people reading that and just getting angry at me. Because that plot was coming, I had to sort of backfilled a character who would do that. I figured out what his complexes were and where he ain’t gone wrong essentially and where others had wronged him to make that person exist, and then from there, I had this person constructed. And later on, it was really cool to make him stand on his own. I knew early on I had to remove some people from his life so that he was the big man. And now, later on in the book, it’s been really interesting to have him fighting with his own nature and sometimes accepting his own nature. We’ll see what goes on.”   

FULL VIDEO

#war storm #war storm tour #red queen #victoria aveyard #text

[laetro]

Ritaban Das: Storyboarding for Effective Storytelling

Character designer, illustrator and storyboard artist, Ritaban Das, elaborates on the significance of storyboarding to effectively tell a story and thus also shares insights from his decade-long experience in animation.

Ritaban Das is a character designer, storyboard artist and illustrator working in the animation industry for the last decade. He’s worked on a wide range of national and international 2D and 3D animated projects for platforms like Nickelodeon, Cartoon Network and Pogo. Recently, he shifted to Toronto, Canada for higher studies, looking to contribute his skills to the Canadian animation industry. He hopes to someday work on his own animated show.

ORDER A CUSTOM ILLUSTRATION

Q. How do you differentiate your approach between the roles of character designer, storyboard artist and illustrator?

Ritaban Das: At the end of the day it’s all interconnected; it all comes down to ‘story’. When I design a character, I start by thinking about what kind of personality the character has and their role in the story. I think about what I’m trying to communicate through the illustration. This helps me to figure out poses and expressions. As I’m drawing, I’m thinking about shapes, proportions and appeal. I also think about the composition of the illustration. When I make storyboards, I’m telling a story in motion by acting out the characters in them.

Q. What have been the greatest lessons you’ve learnt professionally and personally in your ten years of experience?

Ritaban Das: Draw what you like and the rest will fall into place. Only you know what motivates you.

Q. How did you find your calling to be an artist and, thereafter, how did you nurture your skills to hone your craft?

Ritaban Das: I’ve been drawing for as long as I remember and I’m always very passionate about it. To be very honest, I sucked at studies and my parents knew that very well. I remember spending most of my time with a box of chalk and slate gifted to me by my father. Like every other child, I also loved to sketch my favourite cartoons. I usually sketched these animated characters on the back pages of all my notebooks and also my classmates’ notebooks. It made me known amongst my seniors for my sketches.

That’s the only thing I was good at which I followed blindly. Honing my craft came from lots of practice. I draw almost every day. I also follow and study other artists’ work. Reading or watching their interviews, where they describe their work processes and the likes, helped me a lot to grow as an artist over the years. I try to open my eyes and ears to absorb everything.

Q. Could you take us through your process of how you envision a character and then execute it practically?

Ritaban Das: Being a Character Designer, most of my work is very much character-driven, blended with humour and very graphical too. I always try to convey some sort of story through every character or Illustration I make. I like to play with various shapes and silhouettes and usually keep things simple.

The character design process is, in a way, a combination of different things. I ask myself ‘Who am I drawing? What is his/her personality?’ I sometimes look at influential artists’ work to get some ideas or even start from a drawing I like and translate it into my style. Then, trying to forget those influences, I often start from scratch with a basic shape such as the face as it determines the rest of the character for me, then the body (this can be a circle, oval or even a pear shape – it all depends on the personality of the character I want to draw).

Q. Could you please elaborate on your current pursuit of higher studies and how you came to choose Canada for it?

Ritaban: I completed my studies at Humber College in 3D modelling & VFX and Graphic Design and got a job in an animation studio called House of Cool as a Story artist. I’m working on a very exciting project which will probably start airing next year.

I’ve always been well aware of the Canadian animation industry from the beginning and the kind of projects they do. I worked on a bunch of Canadian animation projects back in India.

We used to do a lot of outsourcing for studios here like Big Jump and Brown Bag Films. Canada’s animation industry always attracted me in terms of work culture, the kind of content they nurture, and the quality they produce, so I want to be a part of it.

“Whether you’re working on a commercial TV spot, web video or film, storyboards are an effective way to quickly tell a story. “

Q. What about the world of animation draws you towards it?

Ritaban: Animation is important because it enables us to tell stories and communicate emotions and ideas in a unique, easy-to-perceive way that both children and adults can understand. Animation has helped connect people throughout the world in a way that sometimes writing and live-action films cannot.

Today, anyone can pick up a drawing tablet and show their ideas to the world. Drawn figures can be funny, sad or serious. It can have a playful, less intimidating feel to it to make the viewer feel more comfortable. Often, it has simply served as a way to make a heart-warming story that makes you think.

Through live-action movies, people can form biases based on the appearance and real-life personality of an actor playing a character. But as an animated character, the character feels like their own being.

Q. What would you say are the most challenging aspects of working in the animation world and how do you tackle them?

Ritaban: Every project is challenging in different ways. The challenging ones are the projects where clients don’t have a clear understanding of their audience and outcome, goals or don’t have an investment or hierarchy for arriving at a consensus on feedback. The most challenging projects always boil down to size and scope and managing a team to produce the animation. Also, animating subject matter that I’m not interested in is challenging. But at the end of the day, we all survive because we all just love what we do.

Q. Could you take us through your process of creating a storyboard and highlight its most important aspects?

Ritaban: Whether you’re working on a commercial TV spot, web video, or film, storyboards are an effective way to quickly tell a story. A storyboard is a sequence of drawings that represent the shots planned for video production. It covers all of the major shots, angles and action of your film. The very first step is to read your script and visualise it as an audience would. As I go from scene to scene, I analyse the screenplay and decide how I want each scene to look.

A script breakdown tells you what storyboards you need to create. Then I start doing the rough thumbnails with all the necessary camera angles in Photoshop and chalk out the entire scene I’m planning to do. The important thing is to give anyone who looks at the storyboard a sense of space — where are the objects in relation to the space they’re standing in.

Once I finish locking the scene on thumbnail level, I pitch it to my art director or creative director and take their feedback. After passing the thumbnail phase, I start making the rough staging in Storyboard Pro and work on the required actions and move forward with the scene for the final animation. I might have to rework scenes over and over, combining different elements of the iterations until I finally have what the team is looking for.

Q. What ways do you apply to understand client needs better and thereby produce results that are in sync with them?

Ritaban Das : Whether I work in any studio or as a freelancer, I always listen to what clients need. Listening to your client will help you understand and retain the information you’re already receiving, even if it isn’t a formal meeting. You need to ask questions to identify needs and paraphrase what they say. It helps with clarification and to enhance your understanding of their needs.

Also, I bring new ideas to the table. I don’t hesitate to propose something other than what the client had in mind. You may have a better service in mind and, if nothing else, this again shows you’re listening and attempting to understand your client’s needs. Understanding client needs is one of the biggest challenges of any business but also one of the most important and rewarding tasks.

Q. Considering your range of work, could you please elaborate on significant projects and clients you’ve worked for?

Ritaban Das: Over the ten years of my career, I’ve worked on various national and international projects back in India for clients like Nickelodeon, Cartoon Network and Pogo. I’ve been part of the projects like “Camp WWE”, “F is for Family,” “Kuu Kuu Harajuku,” “Evan the Epic,” “Penn Zero: Part-time Hero,” “DC Superhero Girls,” “Cloudy with a chance of meatballs” (series), “Rhythm Warriors” (series-in production) and other numerous animated TV shows.

Q. According to you, in what direction should animation be exploring and progressing now?

Ritaban Das: Animation is an incredibly versatile medium that is widely used in many different forms today. Animated films are big business nowadays. Companies such as Disney have had enormous success producing animated children’s films for many years. Animated characters such as The Simpsons and The Flintstones have long been familiar visitors to our television screens. The future of animation looks to be on an interesting journey as the quality of films is becoming higher and higher. Most people would now aim for a 4k film. Also, they’ve been experimenting and coming up with new techniques of animation.

One of the interesting ones is Mix Media, a technique that Disney has been experimenting with for a few years is mixing CGI and traditional 2D animation. The idea is to create an animated film using CGI and then to draw over each frame to give it a hand-drawn quality. The computer gaming industry is also pushing the boundaries of what is possible with animation, leading to the creation of some extremely realistic game footage. Computer game animation has certainly come a long way from the 2D graphics of early arcade games.

Now computer game animators can build environments and objects that react to the player’s actions. The animation looks set to continue delighting audiences for many years to come. With animated films continuing to rise in the blockbuster charts, capturing hearts and imaginations, there is no sign of this genre coming to an end.

#Ritaban Das #Laetro #Art #arts #digital art #artist

[shemakesmusic-uk]

This segment features artists who have submitted their tracks/videos to She Makes Music. If you would like to be featured here then please send an e-mail to [email protected]. We look forward to hearing from you!

Zoë Zohar

Raised in Israel by a South African mother and Israeli father, Zoë Zohar shares her story and take on life through upbeat melancholic ambience. By incorporating live with electronic instruments, Zohar constantly shifts between raw nostalgic tones and futuristic elements, searching for a new authentic sound. After moving to London at the age of 19, Zohar and her team began working together on her much-anticipated EP of four songs, one of which features her recent release ‘Paper Airplanes’. Through her EP, Zohar tells a story of feeling overwhelmed in a trapped environment. In this song, she portrays a sense of loneliness and feeling on the edge of defeat, only to realise that one may find comfort in this state of mind. Zohar aims to take the viewer on a journey that reveals the conflict of befriending our inner voices and running away from them. Listen below.

Zoë Zohar · Paper Airplanes

RIVITA

Hailing from the colorful escapades of India, Rivita creates electro-acoustic landscapes with her music. After completing an extensive education in music, she is currently based in LA and is focused on writing new music and playing virtual shows. Her latest single ‘Lonely With Someone’ is a story of the consequence of addiction and the unsaid hidden scars that it leaves. The song is a segway from her previous release ‘Someone Else’s Arms’, Rivita states “With this piece of work, I wanted to express the strength an individual really holds. There have been many moments in my life, I have surprised myself with my own strength and while facing some of my biggest fears in tough situations. While growing up I watched someone get lost in the sea of addiction. As I got older, I realized just how common addiction is across the globe and how well it is masked sometimes. It has caused me pain and it felt like I had no right to feel this way because I was not the one with the disease. I wanted to find a way to release my feelings without the consequence of being told to get over it or to stop thinking about it. This is the only way I thought I’d ever be able to fully express myself, through this song”. Listen below.

Rivita · Lonely With Someone

Alicia Lov

Spanish-Canadian artist Alicia Lov took to music at an early age. Music and dance lessons pushed her passion further and led to where she is now. Alicia has a love for lots of different genres including rap/hiphop, alternative, dancehall, latin pop and so much more. Dance is a big part of her inspiration and will continue to be a prime part of her career. Her latest single 'Magnetic' delivers a smooth romantic R&B feeling that makes you want to get cuddled up with that special someone. She explains further, "'Magnetic,' has romantic R&B vibes that were inspired by love between the sheets. Smiling and tracing each other with your fingertips. Love can sometimes just be free and chaotic. Head in the clouds, floating in another dimension." Listen below.

ALICIA LOV · Magnetic

Lyla DiPaul

Lyla DiPaul is an American recording artist based out of New Orleans. DiPaul grew up in Takoma Park, MD where she fell in love with playing guitar and writing songs at the age of 10. She draws musical inspiration from a variety of songwriters including Taylor Swift, Joni Mitchell, and Phoebe Bridgers. DiPaul eloquently relays the feeling of love and heartbreak through her music, and hopes to connect to people through her work. Her latest single is ‘Still Unwell’ and here is what Lyla had to say about the release: ”I wrote ‘Still Unwell’ with my friend MC in the fall of 2019. Simply put, it is a breakup song. We always describe it as being about nostalgia for a relationship. When you miss all the good things and bad things about a person, and just cannot move on. We recorded the bulk of the song in the studio at Loyola University, New Orleans and then ended up finishing up the guitar work and the vocals in my bedroom after things became unsafe due to the pandemic.” Listen below.

Lyla DiPaul · Still Unwell

Mango In Euphoria

Starting her project in London after being employed in Florida and travelling through the United States, French-born alternative artist and songwriter Mango In Euphoria quickly found her audience when she dropped her first experimental work at the end of 2020. The singer is an emerging talent noticeable by her quirky style and her mysterious signature voice, matching her very own unique musical tracks mixing Electronic Rock, Dream Pop and Dark-wave genres. Creating melodies coming from her mind with virtual instruments and recording with a very basic microphone during the global Coronavirus pandemic, Mango In Euphoria also began to work remotely with Belgian producer Philippe Francq who helped her in developing a lot of demos with physical instruments inspired from vintage influences such as the Twin Peaks series soundtracks, The Cure, and Garbage. As Mango was mainly musically influenced by Grimes and Lana Del Rey, there's no doubt that the result would be quiet outstanding. Her new song ‘Golden Shrine’ is about celebrating who you are as a unique person, embracing this uniqueness “and also about someone who started to copy everything I was doing when everything was coming from my creativity so instead of getting more pissed off I created a song about it!” she laughs. Listen below.

MangoInEuphoria · Mango In Euphoria - Golden Shrine

Shannon

East London singer-songwriter, Shannon is an indie-pop artist that brings soulful tones through her vocals. Her music shares stories and experiences through heartfelt lyrics and production driven by acoustic guitar. Her latest single ‘But He's There’ is an upbeat track about the complications of falling for a close friend. The lyrics reveal inner thoughts of uncertainty about stepping out of one's comfort zone to fulfil an exciting idea of love. As the song builds, the story unfolds and reflects the fantasy for a closer relationship. Shannon's high notes introduce an unexpected direction to the vocal line that mirrors the feeling of being caught unaware by your thoughts and feelings. Whilst picturing the production for this song, some influential tracks from the 90's came to mind from artists such as Corinne Bailey Rae, Lauryn Hill and Natasha Bedingfield. The laid-back drums and organ keys give off a chilled vibe, almost as if the song acts as a passing thought during a relaxed Sunday morning. Listen below.

officialshannonuk · But He's There

Heff VanSaint

East London-based alternative pop artist, Heff VanSaint has released her debut track ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’. The former one half of synth-pop duo Miracles has gone back to her roots with a song that fuses old-school storytelling, with a contemporary lo-fi indie sound. ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’ is a tale of lost friendship, at a time of carefree hedonism. It’s a bruised, melancholic song tinged with sadness. Lyrically sublime, its evocative lines hit deep and leave the listener experiencing a sentimental yearning long after its over. Listen below.

Nille Nyc

Following up on the release of her debut EP PowerPainPillsPercussion, Danish electro pop artist Nille Nyc has just released new single ‘Someone Else’, her first of 2021, as a per cursor to her upcoming full-length album. Let’s face it, we’ve all been there: a relationship that seems to constantly be teetering on the edge of the abyss, until one day when it finally implodes. Afterwards, all that we can do is pick up the pieces and move on. ‘Someone Else’ is a story about looking back at the aftermath of a bad relationship from the safety of a better place. With a playful guitar, heavy R&B beat and edgy vocals, ‘Someone Else’ opens a new chapter in Nille Nyc’s musical journey. “Throughout our lifetime we experience relationships which challenge our core values as human beings, both professionally and personally. Every relationship needs to grow and mature; to look to the future while keeping the lessons of the past in mind. The same holds true for music. Every musician needs to keep innovating and experimenting. They need to take risks and challenge themselves by exploring new ideas and new ways of expressing themselves. If they don’t, then they run the risk of becoming static and their music will suffer for it”, Nille Nyc says. Listen below.

Nille Nyc · Someone Else

Natasha Ghosh

Natasha Ghosh originated as a professional Dutch-Indian fingerstyle ukulele player, but nowadays she also focuses on singing and releases her own music. Natasha's main styles are R&B, indie electronic, lo-fi, and hip-hop. Her new single ‘Paradise’ is a deep and emotional vocal-led lo-fi track with a relaxed sense of beauty. It's a personal song about romantic escapism between lovers. Lush synthesizer melodies, emotional vocals, and dynamic, but the chill drums make this track a perfect fit for study, Lo-fi, chill, and dreamy playlists. This is a song that Natasha wrote with her girlfriend in mind. "I believe that it's important to show the people you love what they're worth to you. In an ever-changing society where all kinds of stuff are happening around the globe, it's good to focus on the good things.” The track was a COVID-19 project, made in collaboration with the famous lo-fi artist Kid Kio from home studios. Listen below.

Natasha Ghosh Music · Natasha Ghosh (feat. Kid Kio)- Paradise

Olivia Void

Berlin based experimental artist Olivia Void uses her highly recognizable voice and songwriting style to introduce us to her unusual sonic cosmos. Her debut ‘Made for You’ was published in October 2020. After collaborating with members of the local and international electro and folk scenes in the meantime, she now prepares for the release of her debut EP PHYSICAL later this year. Unpredictable and captivating, Olivia Void’s new single ‘Glory to Glory’ is a hommage to our physical selves. Led by the Berlin singer‘s characteristic voice and electric guitar play, we get carried away high and low until we want to join in the glory. Talking about the powers of the self-reigned body, the song‘s unique structure creates a whirl that drags you in. As more and more layers are added or taken away we find ourselves in a state of vibrant emotion. Listen below.

Olivia Void · Olivia Void - Glory to Glory

#submission saturday #zoe zohar #rivita #alicia lov #lyla dipaul #mango in euphoria #heff vansaint #nille nyc #natasha ghosh #olivia void #shannon

[mcrmadness]

I have been making videos about Bela/Farin for like... 10 years now? I made my first B/F video ever, the “Bela/Farin version of Bitte Bitte” in 2010. I was 19.

10 years later, I’m 29 and I have made 11 B/F videos and 2 other videos about dä aka 13 videos in total. Kinda pitiful amount of videos but... oh well. Anyway, I don’t get too many views - my first ever video was Die Ärzte Laughter and it has gotten over 15k views. The next self-made video is the first part of my B/F series and it had a bit over 8k views. The fandom is small and the slasher part is even smaller so that is very understandable. I know most people enjoy watching them interact but maybe don’t really ship them, or are not as fanatic as me and don’t spend hours in front of their computer just watching the same clips and videos over and over and over again, year after year. And I kid you not - that’s exactly what I have been doing for the past 10 years. I still don’t know what they even talk in most of the videos (unless I have been rewatching them now just for the “do I understand the language today?” purpose) but you can ask me almost anything about this ship and I have answers for you. If you need to find a video and can’t, just ask me and I know what and where it is. I have seen probably every interview and tons of live videos on youtube because that’s how obsessed I am.

Mostly I’ve got likes on my videos but a few dislikes have fallen on some of the videos, especially on the earlier ones, but I think all of them still has the like-dislike ratio over 90%. And we’re now talking of amounts less than 30, usually even less than 20. Some have just one like. But  it’s okay since the average views on those videos are only a few hundreds of views - and most of them have been up for several years already.

The reason why I started writing this now has nothing to do with views and likes but was slightly inspired by dislikes. Because there’s still people out there who do not like shipping nor people who ship. And I honestly sometimes feel very... weird with this. I mean, it’s not normal, is it? It’s an obsession. Or a hyperfixation. Or whatever it is, it doesn’t bother me too much but I just feel that it might look really weird to the outside. I am very open about this on Tumblr but otherwise shipping is a huge guilty pleasure for me. Sometimes when I see my videos on youtube, appearing on search results or so, I just feel like I should hide them. Unlist them and delete all the tags, make sure no one finds them ever again. I really love making the videos but I’m not sure if I should make them for only myself or continue like this - sharing them with others.

I see the dislikes and I feel that what I do here is disgusting and wrong. Even when my policy with shipping is that it is not harming anyone as long as you keep it to yourself and share it with only your friends and don’t push it onto the faces of the people you ship. With Bela and Farin it’s no different, the ship sails itself better than any ship I have ever seen before but I still would never ever mention this to them. I take what they give but I would never say anything about it to them. I’d never show them my comics or drawings that are about them as a ship, I would never show them my videos just because they are my videos because I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable with stuff like that. No matter how much they ship themselves, I will leave that to them and keep my theories and thoughts to myself. I just know that I would feel so uncomfortable if I had a friend I came along as well as they do with each other and if people suddenly started to ship me with that said friend. That is why I kinda want to keep this whole shipping stuff to myself and I sometimes feel quilty for doing this. What if I ever meet them somewhere, they would look at me and have no idea what goes inside my head and that makes me feel so bad because... I don’t know. It’s a guilty pleasure, I don’t know if I should have the right to feel what I feel when I watch those videos, and if it’s too much to be this excited over editing videos about them and drawing stupid comics about them.

My whole life pretty much revolves around that band and I have absolutely nothing to do with that band apart from it just happening to be my favorite band. I wish I could do some other art than dä fanart but I can’t. I love making videos but I have no other ideas (except for cat videos but it feels like too much work plus nowadays youtube sucks because everyone should have professional equipment and I don’t). I love drawing but I have absolutely no other ideas but fanart. I love drawing comics but all I can draw about is either: a) fanart or b) my self-comics and no one is interested in reading those because they’re just stupid thoughts and mental health stuff I needed to get out. Latter happen if they’re to happen but I haven’t even posted most of them anywhere because no one cares anyway. I also love writing but all I can write is fanfiction. I have tried if I could create some original characters and write about them instead of Bela and Farin but nope. Impossible. Can’t imagine anyone else in those situations than these two. Besides, I’m not even interested in writing “romance”, so if I had oc’s, they sure as hell wouldn’t do anything ships do. And that is where I run into a wall because I cannot create something out of nothing and I just don’t have story ideas for anything in my head so all I can do is fanfiction because I already have half of it ready for me and I just have to imagine scenarios between real things. Easy.

Sometimes I just feel so stupid with this hyperfixation. Why did I have to get so interested in this all? How would my life be if my dad never took German lessons in 2009, if the teacher never made them listen to Die Ärzte, if my dad didn’t find “Männer sind Schweine” so good that he ended up searching more about the band and showing the music video of Junge to me. Would my life be easier if I didn’t dive this deep into this all? If nothing of this never happened, only downside would be that I never would have found out what perfect music sounds like, I would have never started to make videos to this extent and I also would not know all those people I now know thanks to this band. But still I don’t understand why can’t I like things the normal way? Why can’t I be a normal fan?

#mcrmadness' deep thoughts #+ random fandom talks and apparently very deep thoughts about life and all because of reasons #(die ärzte) #my belafarin video series #mcrmadness makes videos

[1dfangirls35]

The Fallout Chapter 1

After nuclear war leaves the world in shambles, Charlotte Breslow finds herself simply trying to survive, until an unexpected stranger reminds her of what it means to live again.

Read on Wattpad

Chapter 1- 463

463 days. 463 days have passed since the world as I knew it  ended. It has been 463 days since I last saw my parents. 463 days since I last binged on Netflix. 463 days since I wandered through the grocery store, checked my email, or navigated through the lovely Los Angeles traffic. 

I pull out my notepad from inside my worn black backpack. Its once light blue edges now wearing down to a dusty tan color. The spine binding beginning to loosen, enough so it doesn't quite stay open. I flip to the inside cover and trace my fingers over the "To our dearest Charlotte, may your journey await" in my mother's swirly script. 

I flip to the page I've marked last, with the edge bent slightly inwards. 463, I write in bold print. Wednesday, July 15th, 2020. I stare at it for a moment, letting it sink in. Wrapping my head around those numbers, that date. It was the only thing that I had to grasp onto anymore after all. 

"And what day would it be today?" 463 days ago I would have jumped at the sound of my little brother Luke's voice behind me. Today, I don't even bother to turn around. 

"Today is Wednesday, July 15th," I respond.

"Well then happy hump day Charlie!" Luke pulls off some obnoxious dance move and I roll my eyes. Sometimes Luke's sense of humor was the only thing getting me through the day. 

"Happy hump day Luke," I respond back with a grin, although we both knew there was no such thing as hump day anymore. 

I shove the notebook back in its assigned pocket for safekeeping, and begin to gather my belongings. There wasn't much anymore. The blanket my grandma knitted for me before I left for college. The hairbrush that kept me from developing a rat's nest at the nape of my neck. The small pillow which had a hard lump I couldn't quite get rid of. My backpack, which carried things that I didn't dare use. The duffle bag where Luke and I kept all the necessities, soap, Pork and Beans, matches, and of course Oreo Cookies. Today the bag felt a little lighter, which meant that once again we were growing low on the very items keeping us alive. 

"Where to today?" Luke asks as he slides into the drivers seat of the maroon Honda Odyssey we lovingly referred to as Gertrude. I was always the navigator, because apparently my six months post graduation living in California had given me the knowledge to navigate its every where about. 

"Liam told me to check out Pomona. He said they found some good stock ups there last week."

"Where's he been anyway, we haven't seen Harry and him in ages." Ages was a bit of an exaggeration, it had only been 12 days by my records, but twelve days out on our own seemed like so much longer.

"Twelve days. It hasn't been ages, its been twelve days,." I partly snap. Luke always had a small level of distrust in Liam,Harry as well. He argues I don't know either of them well enough to be trusting our lives to them. I argue that in this time there isn't anyone else left to trust our lives to. "Remember I told you they were going to follow that lead on the safe zone Liam heard about."

"You mean the safe zone that Liam made up?" Luke says back with a roll of his eyes. 

"It very well might be out there Luke, what do you want to do wander around this wasteland for the rest of your life?" Luke grows mute at my comment, and I wonder if I've come at him a little too strong. Death had become quite a sensitive subject considering recent events. 

"Let's try Pomona today. We are going to meet back up with Liam and Harry on Friday," I say. If you had asked me 463 days ago who would be the leader of the group of four survivors in a nuclear fallout, I definitely wouldn't have volunteered my name. Hell, I wouldn't have even counted myself as a survivor. But a lot has changed in 463 days, that's for certain. 

********

The Spears Ridge neighborhood was marked by a large, multi-tone rock on the corner of the street. A large sign indicating a new neighborhood was usually a sign that it would be a good location. Neighborhoods with signs were like that, full of well-stocked cupboards and closets. Luke slowly turns Gertrude around the corner, driving slowly as I look ahead for any sign of others. 

The streets look deserted, and from what I could tell they hadn't been touched for a while. We pull up to a large brownstone at first. After one more survey of the area we decide this is a good place to start. Luke and I each grab a duffle and head towards the door. 

As we approach the front door, Luke checks the door frame for the key. I scour the mat and under the flower pots. 

"Got it," Luke exclaims, holding a small silver key in his hand. That's one thing I'd learned being out here: everyone had the same hiding places for their spare keys. Luke slides the key into the lock and I soon hear the satisfying click that means we have access. 

Walking in we can see its been left fairly untouched. There's a slight disorder that was no doubt a result of the warnings we heard 463 days ago. But there wasn't any disorder that suggested someone else had been here to raid through the closets. 

"Jackpot," Luke says aloud as he opens a pantry full of canned goods. I head upstairs and raid the bathroom, finding ample soap, shampoo and even some badly needed lotion. I find the closet of a young woman, and am so pleased by her clothing tastes that I snag a few outfits, pushing them into my bag. 

"To the next one?" I ask Luke as I walk back down the stairs. He gives me a head nod and we make our way towards the front door once again. We barely take a step out the door when we hear it. The noise that even 463 days hadn't erased the response of my hair standing on end. The sound of a gun shot. 

"Don't move," I reach out to grab Luke's shoulder holding him in place. We hear incomprehensible shouting, but no more gun shots. Seconds later we hear the sound of one car race down the drive, my heart stops for a moment as they rush past our vehicle, but luckily they don't seem to notice. Another vehicle rushes off behind them.  We wait a few minutes, trying to return our pulse to a normal rhythm. The road becomes silent once again.

"So I guess we better head back then," Luke says grabbing for the keys in his back pocket. 

"Why would we do that?" 

"Why wouldn't we? You heard those gun shots. Someone else was here," I can tell by the paleness of my brother's face that he had gotten a little spooked. I should have thought that through before going to a high profile neighborhood that Liam suggested. When Liam heard things, others did too. 

"Luke, listen to me," I grab my brother's shoulder in a reinforcing grasp. "Someone else was here, but they are gone now. You heard them race off didn't you? They left, two vehicles left. We will be fine," Luke takes a deep breath. "C'mon," I say standing to my feet and slinging my black duffle across my shoulder once again. 

The next house doesn't have much. The following looks like they hadn't even moved in. We walk up to the third house. When Luke tries the door its already open, not atypical. We walk in and observe the surroundings. Its a bit of a mess, but when we open the kitchen cabinets we find that nothing has yet been looted. There's enough food in there to last us months. 

"We might need another bag," Luke says with excitement. 

It's while we are filling the second bag to the brim that I hear it. A loud crash from the upper level. We instantly freeze. Luke looks at me with his "I told you so" eyes. I bring a finger to my lips and draw out the knife that I carry at the back of my belt nowadays. You could never be too careful anymore, especially after what happened when Liam and I went to Beverley Hills .

I begin to creep up the stairs, knife in hand. It's then that I hear another thud, the sound of a body hitting the floor. "Shit!" The voice echoes through the hallways, its deepness has a strange noise to it, almost resembling an accent. I put my back to wall as I reach the top of the staircase, and hold the knife to my chest. Then, taking a deep breath, I reveal myself to the person sharing the house with us.

Next Chapter

#1dfangirls35writing #niall horan #nh #niallfanfiction #niallfanfic #niall horan fanfiction #niall james horan #solo niall #niallhoranfanfic #1dfangirls35thefallout #writingby1dfangirls35

[chasingeast]

Day 1: Let’s Begin- 10:55 A.M., Saturday, December 21, 2019

Dear Me,

This is your time. Use this power. This will be a place for you to recognize and record your triumphs your losses. The highs and the lows. I want you to reminisce and learn. To grow and blossom into something greater. I've thought to myself often ever since I was younger what I might truly want out of life in itself and it's still a question I'm asking myself. What I want out of it. I felt like for so long I had this Grand idea of what it might look like, how I might look like, when it would happen. And in my present and current years I've learned that it isn't anything to what I imagined. I thought I would have been married by now with my first child on the way, I thought I would have my career set in stone, I would be with someone, that so many other things would have been in place. And yet, to the surprises of life, I have certain things and still more yet to come. I always told myself that it would be when I was 28. That it was the most magical number because of an anime character I used to love named Rurouni Kenshin. He lived life, even though it was made up. It just seemed like everything was so wonderful at a time when nothing was set in stone. The world was ahead of me, I had so much life to live still. Fast forward 10+ years into the present and here we are.

I have a job which I’m still on probation for, but does it really matter? I know I do well at it. I have a gift and a nack that, though I wouldn’t go around boosting to everyone, that I am pretty damned good at it. Could there be other areas within the field that I could improve in? Yes. I’m learning from them each day and am trying to make a breakthrough. It has been a direction for me for so long. When you were younger, you were told that you had to go to school to go to college and finally pick a degree. Teaching has been a direction for me for as long as I can remember. Why? I’m not completely sure how it started, but I do know that I felt so proud of myself when I was able to work with the kids at chinese school when I was in middle school and volunteering. There was just something so special about it. Maybe it was because it was at a time when I was so shy that speaking was painful, but with the kids, the words would just pour out of me. The praise also helped from everyone around me. My peers, the teachers, and other adults recognized that within me.

I can’t say it’s always been easy. Right after college I took some time off because I wanted to go on my first overseas trip with my parents and univoice to china. I started to substitute shortly after I believe in the spring of 2013, which turned into a teacher aide position within a month until the end of the year. I was so nervous at the time to substitute. I still remember my first class which I believe was 4th grade. I didn’t know if they would listen to me and especially the rumored 8th grade class, which turned out great. Through many recommendations and praise from others, I ended up starting my job as a first grade teacher there, which I taught for two years. It was a difficult time. I felt like I was on top of the world, but struggled so much. When I look back now, I’m horrified at the type of teacher I was. I was not nice or kind, and struggled because I didn’t know what to do. I was just a child at the time at the age of 22 with a class of 21 students that I did not know how to manage. I can say that after 2 full years, many substituting opportunities, to another teacher aide position, to 3 maternity leave positions, I finally have put in my time with 2 full tenure tracked years, with currently my 3rd that I’m working on at the moment. I put in a great deal of effort and I know that effort does not always result with the best product, but I am getting smarter each day and am trying my best with things. I want to learn from each trial and hope that each day will bring me a new adventure and excitement to keep me going. I don’t know how my future will look nor what I will be doing in years to come, but I know at least right now this is where I am meant to be.

I have friends and family that I value and treasure. Now I can’t say that it’s been easy in the slightest either. My friends are so independent and lost in their own worlds, I feel like if I didn’t bring us together, then we never would be. I am not going around telling my tales of glory of how I am the glue for my friends, but I’m also not humble enough to hide it either. I love my old friends from college who though we’ve continued to go our own ways still find time for each other at least every now and again. My new friend whom I love dearly and is my support system at school. My new colleagues who I’m getting along with, although not quite close friends, but maybe one day. My old friend, who I love dearly and is my heart and soul understands me like no one else. E, who is also a dear friend, and sly and curt, but filled with love stories and fantasies. My univoice group whom I love and friends from all over who I adore. I love them for sticking through and being there for me. For my friends who do silly things with me and dress up as pizzas and run for a video montage. Who will have parties with me and help me clean. Who will be there for me in time of need and after every break up that I think they’re annoyed with me. Do I wish that some of them could be a little crazier and be more courageous, yes. I don’t mind though. I like spending time with them on occasion and I also enjoy doing my own things and being myself and my own person.

My family has been a whirlwind. There have been so many things that have happened in the past. Between ugliness and angst built against my family. The greed I learned about when I was younger about my dad’s side and selfishness that tore away at all my ideas of family values. The new selfishness that I continue to learn about my mom’s side when it comes to choices and greed that comes out of entitlement. I struggled with that for years now. It tore at me and broke me down in many ways that I do believe have helped me and forced me to see myself for who I am and who I want to be so that I can avoid being like them at all costs. My parents who are in constant peril and arguments because of poor communication and lack of duty towards one another. The white elephant in the room which will determine whether they hold together or separate due to divorce. My brother who I miss dearly and has run away yet again to find happiness elsewhere. I am happy for him, yet envious because I feel leashed to where I am with duties as a responsible daughter to the family.

I have my passions which I am thankful to have found others to share them with. I can’t say that I’ve necessarily grown in this department because I am still very much a homebody.

I love creating things. It brings me joy to make something. Knowing that I’m able to figure it out and see it through with an end result. My recent project was a body scrub which I gave to my coworkers as a present. It was a green tea peppermint scrub. Smells great, but is still in trial phase! Hopefully it works well!

I love to cook or bake or anything with food. I took E out to make handmade pasta. Though I can’t remember the name of the rolled pasta, it was delicious, as was the sauce! I’m hoping to make more in the future.

I love arts and crafts. It’s something that I’ve pushed to the backside for a long time. Probably because it consumed so much of my time. It was always so tedious. I loved every drawing and painting I created. I have a drive to do more. I like the metal art that I’ve started, as well as the wooden box. There’s still the miniature dollhouse I need to start. I’ve painted motivational rocks. I bought canvases to start painting winter scenes (my favorite).

I like to learn new things whether it be my hobby or someone else’s hobby. I just want to take it all in. The only new thing that I’ve done so far was to go to a board game convention with yahan and her friends. They’re crazy, but you can see the friendship and the love they have for each other. I love board games now. It’s not just a little part, it’s huge! Well, it certainly depends on having friends, but when you do it’s great! In years past I’ve been to popup events and lantern festivals. I would like to do more of that.

I love to be outdoors. It’s been a huge part of me for years now ever since I graduated college, so exactly 7 years ago. I needed a passion at the time and somehow it stumbled upon me while spending time with friends. We started slowly with hikes which turned into backpacking and camping. I can’t say that I’ve done as much as when I was younger but I do love each and every bit of it. I wish there was more I could do. I love looking at all the travel bloggers websites but something that I’ve come to realize most recently is that it’s just a fantasy. I might have the bravery to tackle certain activities but in all honesty, I don’t know that I’d even want to nowadays. In no way shape or form have I lost my love for the outdoors and hiking, but rather my goals have shifted. It’s still something that brings me joy. It is still something that challenges me. I needed this challenge to push myself. At the time, long ago when he and I broke up I needed something to distract me. This was the only thing that I had. I needed it to survive. Now, it’s nice when I can go but maybe not an end all.

I have my hopes and dreams. There are many things that I wish to accomplish. There are bigger things out there for me that I would like to do.

I would like to improve my mental wellness. I feel like I focus so much energy on negativity sometimes that it becomes all consuming. I need to learn to listen, understand it’s meaning, but let it go.

I would like to focus on my weaknesses. I want to develop a stronger backbone and really put my foot down when needed. I don’t want to let others push me around. I also don’t want to follow others and allow things to be just because I feel like there’s no other choice or because I just feel that I need them and would do anything for them.

I would really like to break out of my comfort zone. I’d like to say I got a head start on that goal with Yahan and her friends. I wish I could have spoken more and opened up rather than seeming like a lost puppy, but it was the first time for me so I can’t expect much at the moment. I want to get to know more people and learn from them. I want to broaden my horizons and see the world through other people’s eyes so that one day I too can experience it with my own version.

I want to be braver and take chances. I want to love myself fully and see myself for who I really am. I want to constantly grow. That doesn’t necessarily mean I have to be different all the time, but if there is something I don’t like then I don’t want to linger and let it stay around to fester. I want to develop and become the best version of myself for myself.

I want to stop falling for the first person I interact with. There is something to be said about developing and having a connection with someone. There is also something to be said about not misinterpreting someone who is simply being kind and well mannered with a person who is flirting with you. They can still be nice to you but not actually like you in that way. I’m thankful that so and so never responded to my message. He sent me pictures that he snapped of me, which I thought was creepy considering it was only our 2nd time seeing each other (I’m also pretty sure there were more photos) but I’m glad he never responded. I was in a weak position and desperate for attention. It stung a little at first but I got over it like anything else fairly quick. It wasn’t meant to be and though it was a rude awakening, it was one of the most important ones. I’m sure that there will be someone out there who compliments me and will appreciate me for who I am. In order to find that person though, it’s going to require all the right ingredients of which I may not have in order at the moment but it’s okay.

I want to see if I can discover what in this world will make my heart beat. To make my heart race each and every day and make me feel the need to put my best foot forward each day. I want to know all of it and more. I want to know if there is more to life than just mulling around each day going to work, going home, sleeping, and repeating. I want to know what the highs and lows are. The small and simple joys that make everything worth it.

I won’t deny that I am going to start writing more often to myself out of inspiration from He. I’ve always looked up to him. Rolled my eyes plenty at him, but never-the-less, he has always been someone so special and irreplaceable to me. Love has been such a difficult thing for me. I feel like there just isn’t anything for me. I wonder half the time if the way I am , the situation I’ve gotten myself into is simply because of the expectations I’ve held or because of the longing I have that they could all replicate an irreplaceable person. I’m not necessarily saying that I won’t date anyone just because I’m writing. I am instead saying that I’m hoping by writing, I will be able to capture all of my memories and save them for myself so that I don’t ever forget them. I want to use any means possible to solidify my thoughts. I often found using all my senses helped me best. I was never perfect, worst at best, but I’m still trying.

I want to learn from myself and grow into a better person. I want to document my successes and failures so that hopefully one day I can prevent the same ones from happening. I want to find peace from within and I know that’s only possible if I let go of my grudges and my high standards. That doesn’t mean I can’t have one, but I need to learn to love a person and not the ideal traits that I want from them. It’s still nice if it can work hand in hand though. I want to start a family with someone who I trust and will bring me the same amount of joy that I bring them on a daily basis. I want to be someone who I will be proud of and can tell stories about to my students and my children and grandchildren. I want to be someone that others will look up to and turn to when in need, not because I need to be a savior, but because I want to be a leader to guide others and myself.

I’ve written for many years letters to those I can’t speak to anymore. My heart is still hurt from S who I gave every ounce of my effort towards and love towards to try and reconcile to see if maybe I would be worth it to someone. I think he could have been worth it, but in the time and place we are currently in, I don’t see it. I also don’t want a man who won’t act like a man or a protector. At the end of the day, I want someone who will watch my back, like I know how I’d throw myself to defend them from harm's way.

There’s something to be said about wanting to be with someone and being okay on your own. I think you need to love yourself first in order to love someone else. I do love myself, but there are parts of me that I am unsure of. I don’t need to know the answer to everything. I don’t have to stay firm in all my decisions because they can change. I just know that I need to make things change myself first. I want to in order to give myself and someone else the best chance. I like being alone and doing my own things. I just also want someone I can share adventures, hopes, and dreams with. It’s something that I crave. I mean I also miss sex too, but who doesn’t. Hopefully somewhere out there it will happen. In the meantime, I want to document all the feats and triumphs and silliness of everyday life so that when I one day meet someone and we see eye to eye that I have plenty of stories to tell them of how I got to where I am.

Love Always,

[knb-holy-universe-blog]

I'm happy too! *hugs* Since we both loves him and your req open, i'm gonna ask for him haha! A happy one, whatever the topic you can think of. Mayu deserves to be happy afterall ❤️❤️❤️

I’m sorry for the looong wait, but since it’s BAE, it has to be special and hell Yeaaah he deserves to be happy. So, I wrote just a part and if you like it i’ll continue it ( I didn’t want it to be just a short random one, i didn’t want it to be half assed, I hope you like it darling

                                           My ice prince (Part one):

Most of people end up showing their true colors, trueforms by time, they got betrayed by their body language or by their behavior,but sometimes you can meet a whole different kind of people, a kind that buildwalls around them to get separated from the others. You can’t tell what theythink, what they like, what they hate, these people are a real challenge evenfor someone who knows a lot psychology…

Since my first day at university, I noticed someonespecial, yeah he’s so special, during the whole class while all the studentswere introducing themselves, creating their own bands to hang with or justhaving silly chat, he was all alone, not interesting in anybody… HE WAS INHIS OWN WORLD

I approached him, asked if I could sit butsurprisingly I got not answer, I was totally ignored by him. At first, Ithought that I’ve done something to make him upset but I wasn’t the only oneignored, so many students that tried to be friends with him (especially girls)got ignored. In the next class, the teacher gave us projects and picked twostudents in each project, when he got to project “3”, while looking down at thestudents list, he asked: “ Where is Mayuzumi Chihiro”, the silver haired guyraised his hand,

“You’ll take the third project with...mmm let me seemm the girl setting next to you”

At these words, I felt so nervous I was happy but alittle bit stressed to be with him in this project:

“Let’s do our best” I said trying to break this coldatmosphere but I got a threatening glare in response, my whole world wasbreaking down, I got ignored by the same game twice in just 2 hours.

“At least it’s one project, I’ll make sure to not sitwith him again and I’ll be alright” I mumbled to myself when the teacherdragged me down:

“I forgot to tell you, I’ll be teaching you twocourses this year and the other course just like this, is done on project andthese are two main courses that you’ll be having in the two semesters of thisyear”

“Sensei, please tell me we’ll be having differentpartners in the other course” complained a girl

“I’m dreadfully sorry but you will keep your partnernot just in the other course but also during the second semester”

This teacher broke you down, how can he be so cruel!

You looked at Mayuzumi blinking, “So this guy is goingto be my partner during the whole year?”

This is how things started with this ice prince…

I think that this surname fits him, he’s cold andunbreakable from the outside just like an ice and he’s handsome and charmingjust like a prince in some old tales. Well he’s no fun to be honest, he doeshis work very well but he’s awfully quiet and the time you spent with him inthe library preparing those projects is the most boring and tiresome part ofyour student life.

No, you never intended to spend your student life likethis, you expected something more active, like hanging out with friends, go toparties, enjoying events together but you found yourself just observing thismysterious guy and trying to read him, he awakened your curiosity.

These beautiful empty eyes of him, you knew that thoseempty eyes has some dark background, you knew that this cold guy had some storybehind and that this iceberg was broken from inside…. And here somethingstrange awoke in you, you can’t really describe this feeling but it was amixture of nostalgia, curiosity, compassion and maybe more but as said youcan’t describe it. All you know is that you wanted to hug him, to take care ofhim and to make his days better, and why not draw a smile on his stunning face.

What is this feeling?

Before you could even react you were all drown in him,the love’s waves have already taken you so far away, now you’re swimming in desireand passion for this guy, No you’re sinking in his eyes.

It hurts that he already noticed but didn’t react butyou already knew that he wouldn’t let you in so easily, if he was that easythen maybe you wouldn’t fall for him.

“Mom did you bring me that book that asked you about?”

“Darling why are so much interested in psychology”

“I just want to know, to read people”

“Ahha believe me, it’s exhausting, I work as apsychologist and that’s my opinion, sometimes you find yourself analyzingpeople without realizing”

“Mom did you bring it or not?”

“Mmmm it has like 1200 pages, do you still want it?”

“Where is it?”

“It’s funny what girls nowadays can do for the sake oftheir love”

You blushed: “No I said that I just want to know, it’snot about my love or anything”

“Of course, it’s on my desk” she said amused at thisawkward situation

“Yosh, maybe with this, I can learn more about youChihiro”

Reading people was always a piece of cake to you, yourmother is a psychologist so she taught a lot about psychology, in addition,you’ve always read thousands of psychology’s books but there was one person youcouldn’t read. HIM

Tomorrow:

It’s another day and you had to go to university asalways, you entered the room and spotted Mayuzumi sitting in the back.

“Ohayooo chihiro” you said in enthusiasm

Your response was silence with a bonus (deathly glare)

“I mean Mayuzumi kun”

“Kun” he raised an eyebrow

“Oooooh alright, Mayuzumi san, are you happy now?”

He went back to his light novel but as you arrived inthe table, he let you pass and that made you so happy, that’s a big progressyou’ve made. Yeah, before, he used to tell you to sit somewhere else becauseyou’re disturbing his quiet days but as time passes, and as persistent youwere, he let you in now without comments. And of course, you learnt to keepquiet especially if he has a book in hands, you learnt that you have to respecthis private space but today, you feel like you want to take another step andtake this relationship to a higher level.

“Mayuzumi san, are you free today?”

Silence…

You scratched your back head, you were thinking of away to distract him from his book before the teacher came in:

“I have an idea” you mumbled

You took a sheet of paper and wrote down:

“Are you free today? I want to go somewhere”

You passed him the note, but he was still reading. Yousighed thinking that it was a failure, but when he was about to turn the page,he took his pen and started to write. You felt so excited, your eyes weresparkling until you read his response:

“Go whatever you want Koroshi, what does it have to dowith me?”

You put your head on the table, wondering why did youfall for him?

When you raised your head, you caused the note to flyaway in another student’s direction, he picked it up and read it but you didn’tnotice, you were too busy with coming up with a new method to make him acceptyou.

When classes were over, Mayuzumi was ready to leavebut you were still sitting there and looking at him and of course, you couldn’tcome up with anything:

You’re spending the rest of the day ALL ALONE

That fact hurt you, you were feeling a littlepathetic. When Mayuzumi started walking away, a student showed up in front ofyou, he had a shining smile on his face:

“I’m free” he said as he showed you the note

You were shocked, how did the note got to him andbefore you asked, he added:

“This note came to me by coincidence, I think thatit’s our destiny to meet each other”

You werethinking of a proper response when someone else gave him one:

“It’s our destiny to meet each other, where do youthink you are? a movie scene? A romance book? You’re so pathetic”

It was Mayuzmi, you were so pissed off this time, herefused your invitation in the worst way and now he’s pushing off this poorguy, so you decided to do something that you will probably regret later, butnow you’re too proud to step back.

“Why is it pathetic? Who knows maybe it’s destiny”

His eyes were wide open at your words and that madeyou realize that he didn’t expect you to say a word. He turned to the door’sdirection and left.

“So were shall we go? Movies, arcade games? Karaoke?”he was about to add one more suggestion when you cut him off

“I’m sorry but I love someone else”

He laughed: “Someone else, this Mayuzumi, I didn’teven know that he exists, how could you like some crap like him?” he wasmocking you and disrespecting Mayuzumi

You sighed and arranged your hair with your hands, hewas waiting for you answer, to say anything but you just turned to the doordirection and left while mumbling to yourself:

“After all, Chihiro is right to act this way in aworld messed up like this, I can’t blame him” You were adapting the same attitude as him...

When got out of the room, you found him there, restingagainst the wall.

Astonished was the least that we could say:

“Mayuzumi san what are you doing here?”

He looked at you, his empty grey eyes fixed on you, itwas too intense and that could drive you crazy.

“You disappointed me, is this the kind of guy youlike?”

You caressed you hair with your hand, feeling likeyour forces were abandoning your body but your mouth was still on:

“Don’t be dumb, you already know what kind of guys Ilike, no you actually know the only guy I like, don’t you?”

He sighed, looked away and then left you there in thecorridor alone.

What does it mean ?

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#mayuzumi chihiro #bae #knb #kuroko no basket