#literally i just woke up an hour or so ago and spent like more than half an hour writing

[blooming-cecilia]

special | venti/reader

what makes you, a mere mortal, special in the eyes of barbatos, the god of freedom and wind?

drabble, 100% pure fluff, gn reader (if i let a gendered pronoun slip, pls lmk)

if you know of lunasmr, this was written with her venti and that format in mind. (highly recommend you check out luna's audios if you haven't yet, especially if you're a venti liker! she characterizes all characters she does content for really well!)

likes and reblogs appreciated, enjoy! <3

you and venti lie in bed together one slow afternoon, just enjoying each other's presence. snuggling into each other's embrace, pressing kisses here and there, bathing in the serenity of your room when he starts telling you how much he appreciates you and the love you give him.

"......no one has ever loved me like this, as much as you do, and it feels... so nice. to be loved by you."

you lie next to him, smiling over his sweet words when the thought occurs to you, "wait... am i to take it that i'm your first lover too?"

"hm? yes, you are...?" he sees your eyebrows furrowing and a pout forming on your lips, "what's wrong, windblume?"

you turn to face him fully.

"as happy as i am to hear that i'm your first and only... it makes me a little sad, somehow. to think that no one has shown you the love that you rightfully deserve in all those years..."

"..."

"i like the idea of being special to you in this way but i think... i would have loved it more if there were people before me who appreciated you as much as i do. i think you deserve so much more than i am able to give and if it comes from others too, so be it. i just want you to be the happiest you could ever be."

he lies there silently, taking in your earnest gaze and your sincere words. he is once again stunned by how good you truly are. who else would wish for him to have had past lovers, just so he could have also been as happy as he is now in the many long years before he's met you?

"oh windblume... you're too good to me sometimes, you know that? seems i haven't made the mistake to wait for you to come after all."

he laughs softly at the confusion written all over your face.

"i may have fancied others before and have had others fancy me in return, but none have ever been fortunate enough to be in your position right now. my lover, the one who truly sees, accepts and loves all of me, the way i do for you.

and sure, i've met and befriended plenty outstanding individuals in my life, and i'm glad to have had the opportunity to see them bloom into such wonderful people.

but none of them were you."

ha takes your hand and places it on his chest, right over his heart. he rests his own hand on top of yours. the steady ba-bump of his heart quickly speeding up the longer you press your hand onto it.

"you're the only one that makes me feel this way, my dear. the only one i want to see lying next to me when i wake up in the mornings... the only one i want to hold in my arms as i fall asleep at night. the only one i want to spend the rest of my days with."

his free hand cups your cheek and strokes it, delighting in the way it heats up under his touch.

"such a beautiful heart and soul..." he giggles as he taps on your nose with his finger, "and a pretty face too!"

"i know that i can trust you completely. i'm yours. i love you, and only you. that is what makes you special, and the reason i'll choose no one else but you to be my lover."

#tulip writes #venti x reader #venti imagines #genshin imagines #venti x you #genshin x reader #me? posting yet another venti fic?? so soon??? who is she #i ought to start putting out more sudden writings instead of just letting them rot in dms and note apps honestly #im also now led to believe i can only write in one go or else i LOSE it and never write again #literally i just woke up an hour or so ago and spent like more than half an hour writing #anyway as u can guess by that note i got the idea while listening to luna's audios (AGAIN) #luna's venti supremacy

[puppy-byun]

Just Friends...Unless...? | Pt. 2

pairing: Hyunjin x Reader / a sprinkle of Seonghwa x Reader

rating: 18+

word count: 10.5k

genre: smut / friends to lovers / angst / university au

warnings: drinking, curse words, angst, bad flirting

summary: You weren’t crushing on Hyunjin. You couldn’t be crushing on Hyunjin because you were just friends, and there was no way he would ever feel the same way about you. Right? Unless...?

note: no smut in this one, just angst and lots of miscommunication because they're really dumb..., also fuckboy!seonghwa who's purposely bad at flirting, theyre gonna get it together but they need 10.5k words of being jealous and dumb first...

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You woke up feeling fine for about half a second - then you remembered what had happened just few hours ago. Glancing at the alarm clock on your nightstand you cursed, knowing with a certainty that if you had only just woken up then Hyunjin, who had drunk way more, had missed his morning class for sure. He would be feeling bad about that for at least a week, practicing twice as hard to make up for it. But that wasn’t the point. He had crashed on your couch because you had not trusted him to get home on his own and it really wasn’t the first time he slept over. But things were definitely different now, because you did not want to see him freshly woken up, hair disheveled and uncombed, face puffy. You didn’t know how you would handle it hours after realizing you were still very much crushing on him.

But since Hyunjin was literally one of your closest friends and you couldn’t avoid him for long without it becoming weird, you decided it was best to get it over with. Dragging yourself out of bed you threw on an oversized shirt and pulled open your bedroom door, instantly catching the gaze of Chaeryoung, your roommate, who was leaning against the frame of her own bedroom door. She was clearly more put together than you were, hair done and properly dressed, one perfectly lined eyebrow raised.

“Really, on a Thursday?” she half whispered, half shouted through the room, and you rolled your eyes at her attitude, a sly grin spreading on your face.

“I didn’t even really drink, so don’t look at me like that.”

“Yeah but someone did,” she laughed, inclining her head towards Hyunjin, who had his face buried in a pillow and let out a pained groaned at the same moment.

“I think that was me,” he was grumbling into the sofa, raising one hand half-heartedly. You told yourself it was out of concern that you went straight to the kitchen to get him a glass of water, and not if only to avoid him for another moment, because that would be simply ridiculous. He was right there in your living room, so you would have to face him. You would have to talk if you wanted to salvage what was left to salvage after last night.

Sitting on the low living room table you held the glass out to him, grateful for another moment he spent whining into the pillow before he slowly sat up. It wasn’t fair, that he would look this good with a pout on his puffy lips, eyes swollen and hair a tangled mess on his head.

He didn’t immediately take the glass, looking at you instead, so intently you were sure he was trying to gauge some reaction. Was he looking for any indication on what you thought about last night? You were almost certain he would bring it up any second, but then he simply took the glass from your hands, chugging the whole thing in one go before he finally managed a lopsided, soft grin.

“Morning, bunny. Why do you look this pretty in the morning while I feel like a truck just ran over me?” He was always saying things like that and it really should not affect you. It was nothing out of the ordinary. But god, it hurt.

“First of all, stop lying. Secondly, maybe because I didn’t down every drink within grabbing distance unlike someone else.”

Another groan left his mouth and he slumped back into the couch in defeat.

“I don’t know why I thought that would be a good idea.”

You pressed your lips in a line, not sure how to respond because you knew what you should do was talk about what happened and just get it over with. If it really just was a stupid drunk idea, just a hook-up, you’d have to deal with it and you would, but you needed to know. You had stomped down this crush once already until you were certain it was gone. Throwing a quick glance at where Chaeryoung had been standing you assured yourself she was back in her bedroom and had closed the door before you continued.

“Actually, about last night…” you started, uncertain how to approach the topic without straight up saying ‘why did you finger me in a park?’. Hyunjin rubbed his palms over his eyes almost aggressively, head thrown back on the sofa. There was a pregnant pause, your unfinished sentence hanging in the air between you, waiting for him to pick it up. He opened his mouth once before he closed it, rubbing over his eyes again.

“I didn’t do anything stupid, right? You stopped me?” He still wasn’t looking at you, and for a moment you were desperately hoping he would add anything else. What did he expect you to say? Wasn’t it obvious what you wanted to talk about? Was it really so casual for him that he wouldn’t even mention it? You had never even seen him kiss a girl, let alone anything more, and knowing him the way you did you were sure he wasn’t the type to have hook ups this casual. Yes, he had been extremely drunk, but could he really just have forgotten? You didn’t think he had been that black-out drunk.

“I-“ you started, brain working twice as hard to find the right words. “I thought we-“

He was now looking at you from under his palms, one eyebrow raised, and his gaze was filled with honest confusion. He had forgotten. He had forgotten he had been making out with his best friend, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath all by yourself, while he didn’t even remember.

“Yeah, of course I kept you from doing something you’d regret,” you sighed, shoulders slumping ever so slightly in defeat. The change on his face was instant, a smile spreading and Hyunjin was beaming at you. It hurt, because he was looking you like you were his world, and you were, just not in the way you wanted to be.

“Knew I could always rely on you, that’s why you’re my favorite,” he went on, one fingertip booping the tip of your nose before he leant back with another pained groan, realizing it was too much movement too fast for his hungover body. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, chest clenching, so instead you got up, mumbling that you would bring him breakfast. It only took you barely ten minutes, but you savored the time you were left by yourself instead of looking at Hyunjin, which only made it all the much worse when you felt his hands wrap around your waist, chin comfortably settling on your shoulder.

“How do I deserve you again?”

His words did nothing but make you feel horribly empty, because whatever last night was, he didn’t mean it. He had kissed you and touched you because he was drunk and he was horny and for some reason it had been enough to make you crave him all over. Yet he didn’t even remember. If it had meant something for him, wouldn’t last night have been the perfect moment to say so? You had spent a whole walk to your dorm in silence, and not the comfortable kind. If there ever was a chance for him to mention that he liked you, it would have been then, fueled by liquid courage. But he hadn’t said anything. Not last night, and not this morning. And whether he actually had forgotten or was just pretending not to remember anything, the result was the same. You wouldn’t be talking about what happened ever again.

“Guess you just got really lucky,” you chuckled, but even to you it sounded hollow. You desperately wished this moment would mean something, but it was nothing out of the ordinary, and if anyone caught you like this they wouldn’t even consider that you were anything but friends, because Hyunjin had been this comfortable around you for years.

“That I did. By the way, Felix asked if we were gonna go for Boba later today, you in?”

You were running late, because you had somehow ended up convincing yourself that if you scrolled through your Instagram feed in your pajamas up until five minutes before you had to leave you could still totally make it. It had most certainly nothing to do with the fact that Hyunjin was one of the more punctual members of your friend group and you had wanted to avoid waiting with him alone for everyone else. You had to get over it, and you had to get over it fast, because even if you had been more than friendly last night, and even if he actually had forgotten, which you weren’t quite buying, even if it meant nothing, underneath it all Hyunjin was still your best friend. The entire reason of getting over your crush had always been not to lose that, and that objective hadn’t changed.

You had miscalculated though, because now you were effectively running fifteen minutes late. You cringed internally when you saw that indeed almost everyone had arrived. Even Jeongin seemed to have found a free spot between all his classes to show up, and he was already tapping his wristwatch when he spotted you from afar.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” You apologized, a little out of breath because you had started hurrying once you realized you were more than your planned five minutes late. “I was busy with, uh, assignments and I totally forgot the time.”

“They were that thrilling, huh?” Jeongin commented with a raised eyebrow and you stuck your tongue out at the younger boy.

“I thought you were already done with all your stuff last night. Didn’t you tell me you finished it all so you could come to karaoke night without feeling bad?”

You closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath to swallow the curse threatening to fall over your lips. Hyunjin knew you too well, and there was no way he was buying your, admittedly, bad excuse. You decided to switch tactics because clearly this wasn’t working for you anyways.

“I’m not even last so I don’t know why you’re all so upset with me. Where’s Minho?”

“Practice, he’s not coming. So, we were indeed waiting for you, don’t try to get out of this one,” Jisung joked and you sighed, raising your hands in defeat.

“Alright, alright. I’m here now, it’s not like you’re all overly punctual. Can we just get bubble tea now?”

You weren’t truly angry at their reaction, knowing they were only teasing you and didn’t actually care whether you were late, but you had been so on edge the whole day that you couldn’t help but snap a little. It wasn’t their fault. If anything, it was solely Hyunjin’s fault, but you couldn’t even truly blame him, because he hadn’t done anything you hadn’t wanted him to do. It was awkward now because you were the one hoping it meant more than he had actually intended it to mean.  

Ignoring the confused look Chan was giving you at your tone you were glad no one but him seemed to really notice that something was off. He would at least not address it while everyone else was here. You followed your group of friends towards your go-to campus boba shop, making sure that you stuck to neither Chan nor Hyunjin, listening to Felix and Seungmin discussing the perfect mixture of strawberry banana smoothies instead. It was a welcome distraction from being stuck with your own thoughts, as you had been since this morning. You had been unable to stop your mind from going over every single word or touch that had passed between you and Hyunjin from last night to now, because you couldn’t comprehend how it had gotten the point where you were making out, and then progressed from there to … absolutely nothing. You had been joking the whole night, as you usually were, Hyunjin growing progressively more touchy the more drunk he got. The whole night had been nothing out of the ordinary at all, until he suddenly got upset, ignored you, and then ended up with his tongue down your throat on a park bench. Stealing a small glance at him while he was deeply in conversation with Jisung, both of them laughing about something undoubtedly stupid, you couldn’t help but wonder if he could really not remember anything. He seemed so casual and unbothered. But then again, if it wasn’t a big deal for him, if he had just been drunk and horny, why wouldn’t he be unbothered? Maybe you hadn’t been as subtle in your crush as you thought and he had realized the mistake he’d made, so he had decided it would save you both a lot of trouble if he just pretended last night never happened.

Angry at how you had successfully managed to completely fade out the conversations around you, your thoughts once again gravitating back to Hyunjin, you plopped down next to Seungmin, leaving the others to order their bubble tea because you had lost your appetite. You were starting to question why you had even shown up. Naively you had thought it would improve your mood, hell, you had hoped that meeting in your friend circle would even ease some of the awkwardness you now felt at being around Hyunjin, but instead it had only made you angry at your own stupidity.

It really did not help that a minute later Hyunjin was sliding a grass green honeydew flavored bubble tea in front of you with a grin.

“Got you your favorite.”

“I-“ You didn’t quite manage to tell him that you didn’t feel like drinking bubble tea, especially not when he bought it for you, because he was positively beaming at you and normally you would have loved how thoughtful and sweet he was all the time. “Thank you, Hyunjin,” you sighed instead, managing a smile that came nowhere near reaching your eyes. “You didn’t have to.”

He rolled his eyes and you realized that apart from the slight lack of enthusiasm in your tone nothing you’d said was out of the ordinary. With all the commotion around you it wouldn’t even be unlikely that he didn’t notice something was off.

“You know I love spoiling you. Besides, you made breakfast, I’m only returning the favor.”

“I told you!” Felix surged up opposite of you, pointing an accusatory finger at Seungmin. “I knew he slept over!”

“Obviously I did, where did you think I was all night? Besides, would you rather I’d let her walk home by herself in the middle of the night? What if someone saw her walking by herself and got dumb ideas?”

Like kiss your best friend you thought bitterly, holding yourself back from commenting. Hyunjin sleeping over was a casual affair and no one would think it was weird or would even assume that things had went wrong somewhere between last night and now.

They were still bickering and you focused back on the boba instead, forcing yourself to drink it because not only did you usually love honeydew, but it would be pretty suspicious if you didn’t touch it, even though you felt sick to your stomach.

It was downright ridiculous how uncomfortable you felt when you could just focus on anyone else but Hyunjin. You were still overheated from hurrying through the heat all the way over campus, and the temperatures in the store didn’t help you calm down. You felt too hot, and you knew your face was probably pretty red.

As if reading your thoughts Jisung addressed you.

“You look like you’re close to having a heat stroke. We’re reaching thirty degrees; you’re wearing high collared shirts and no one finds this even remotely suspect?”

Mentally scolding yourself you prepared to give the most nonchalant answer possible, because you only now realized your mistake. It was indeed pretty off brand for you to be quite as covered up as you were in your high collared shirt, sweating and positively hating your choice of clothing, except you hadn’t had any other options upon realizing that Hyunjin had littered your entire cleavage in dark purple hickeys. Everyone had seen you leave with him, you couldn’t have possibly explained them away.

Daring another glance in Hyunjin’s direction you tried to gauge whether Jisung���s words affected him in any way. If he remembered he must know why you had opted to sweat rather than show even the slightest bit of cleavage. But he wasn’t even looking at you, straw of his bubble tea popped into his mouth and chewing on the tapioca pearls as if this had absolutely nothing to do with him.

“Maybe I just realized I’m friends with eight guys whose biggest concern is how much boob I show.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Jisung pouted, and you felt even guiltier for continuously snapping at your friends unfairly simply because you were so agitated because of Hyunjin.

“Gross, I have no interest in your boobs.” Chan added, pulling a face that actually had you chuckle a little.

“I know Chan, you’re the only one I can trust.” You reassured him, patting his hand across the table.

“I’ve never once even looked at your boobs, if you think about it maybe you should actually be insulted.” Seungmin mused, but you caught the devilish grin pulling at the corner of his mouth, giving away that he was teasing you. Still, you crossed your arms with a pout and went along with it, because everyone at the table was chuckling now, including Hyunjin, and you really didn’t want to draw any more attention to the fact that something was severely off.

“Actually, how about we just stop talking about my boobs altogether,” you suggested, not actually uncomfortable because you trusted them, but rather because you did not want to tread so close to the edge of a topic that you didn’t even want to think about, yet couldn’t stop anyways.

“Yes, please.” Chan added with a dramatic sigh, and you used the moment to steal another glance at Hyunjin, studying his reactions. Usually, you could read your friend like an open book. He mostly wore his heart on his sleeve. He was grinning at Chan, clearly amused by how bothered your friend was by this topic, but there was absolutely no indication that he felt even remotely as tense as you. If anything, he looked relaxed and at ease, a very stark contrast to how you felt and probably looked. You had been skeptical but by now you were actually starting to believe that he really did not remember anything that had gone down last night. It was ironic, that he would leave your skin littered with reminders of something that you couldn’t possibly forget even without them, when he was the one who’d actually need a refresher.

“Hey, uhm… Jisung?” A timid voice ripped you out of your thoughtsand conveniently offered the change of topic Chan had desperately been asking for. Right next to the boy in question stood a cute girl in a yellow summer dress, her hair bound together with a fitting bow. She seemed vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t place her. Jisung, however, clearly could because he blanched and turned around so fast he almost yeeted himself off his chair. It would have been funny if you hadn’t been quite so confused. Looking around to check, it seemed as if the only other person who did not recognize this girl was Hyunjin, and as a follow up his confused gaze met yours, eyebrow raised and you could almost hear how he was going through faces in his head, asking whether you knew who this was.

“You’re Jisung, right? The one who did that rap thing last night?”

You couldn’t fully suppress a snort when Hyunjin’s and yours eyes widened comically, your gazes of surprise mirroring each other. That was karaoke bar girl.

“I’m Yuna, by the way,” she added when Jisung still did not say anything and instead just stared at her as if she’d hung the moon. You saw the movement and heard the scramble under the table before Jisung yelped and you knew that Jeongin had mercilessly kicked him in the shin, but it did push Jisung out of his state of being awestruck.

“Yes, yeah, I’m Jisung. I did the rapping. Yuna. Hi!” He almost yelped again on those last two words and you felt the way everyone was on the edge of their seat, praying that he would take this opportunity and not fuck it up again.

“You were really good,” Yuna complimented with a smile so pretty you couldn’t miss the way Jisung was melting. “Anyway, you’re with your friends, I don’t want to keep you-“ she started, clearly now noticing that there were seven other people staring at them and hanging on their every word.

“Do you want my number?” Jisung blurted out, and you almost laughed when Felix and Chan fist-bumped under the table. Yuna seemed just as ecstatic at the idea, fishing her phone out of her bag so Jisung could enter his phone number before she excused herself with an awkward half-wave, eyes mostly glued on Jisung. There was half a minute of utter silence on your table while Yuna was strolling out of the boba store before everyone erupted into hollering and cheering, Chan tousling Jisung’s hair so enthusiastically the poor boy had a hard time sitting upright. He was clearly still in state of shock while everyone else was celebrating that he had finally gotten somewhere with karaoke girl – Yuna – and while you were truly happy for your friend you felt another wave crash over you almost at the same time. Where had your love-life gone so phenomenally wrong?

Sure, you had hook-ups whenever you felt like it, and that was nice from time to time, but Jisung was still staring as if he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened, and how should he? The girl he had been crushing on for the last months seemed to be interested in him. The only time you had ever felt like that was with Hyunjin. You had squashed those feelings temporarily, but while you had had good casual sex no one else had managed to elicit butterflies quite the way Hyunjin could, and you now knew why. You were not over him, and until you were you would be stuck with feeling empty, a perpetual weight on your chest that would never allow room for butterflies and all those other mushy feeling that came with being in love.

You felt your phone vibrate next to you on the table, picking it up only to be greeted with a message from Chan popping up on your lock screen.

[4:37 PM] From: Chan 🐺

            U okay? you look kinda sad…

You looked up at him quickly, catching his worried gaze from across the table and chided yourself for being so careless. Just because everyone else was too caught up in being happy for Jisung – as they should be – didn’t mean your oldest friend wouldn’t catch you sulking and wallowing in self-pity right in front of him.

You shot him a thumbs up with a smile that felt thin and pathetic.

[4:38 PM] To: Chan 🐺

            Yeah don’t worry. Didn’t get much sleep last night and im pretty tired…

You didn’t outright look at him after he’d read your message, watching him from the corner of your eyes and you could tell he wasn’t buying it. Attempting to appease him you clicked back in to the celebrations, putting on the brightest smile you could possibly manage with how you actually felt, but you immediately regretted it. They had moved on from celebrating Jisung’s love life to teasing Hyunjin about his, by trying to set him up with the barista currently mixing cream cheese milk tea. If he was bothered by it, he barely showed any signs. To his benefit he did not actually get up to talk to her, but he also didn’t react quite as prickly as he had when you had tried setting him up with Chaeyoung last night, and it only added to the irritation you felt towards him and your whole predicament.

“What’s your opinion?”

You didn’t realize the question had been directed at you until Felix was throwing the paper wrapping of his straw at you. You quickly threw another gaze at the barista, not really taking her in at all.

“Hmmm? Yeah, she’s cute.”

No one commented on your complete lack of enthusiasm compared to usual, and if they found it strange they didn’t react in any way, instead turning back to the conversation at hand.

It was all a little too much and a little too suffocating and you knew that if you got up and left now you wouldn’t have a good excuse, but you didn’t care. You had already been acting strange the whole last hour or so you had been here, so it really didn’t make much of a difference anymore.

Signaling Seungmin and Felix that you wanted to get up you snuck out of the booth, squishing past them and threw a quick goodbye at the table. You turned to hurry out of the shop before they could properly realize that you were actually leaving, trying to avoid the questions that would undoubtedly be thrown at you if anyone stopped you now. You were positive you had handled that moment anything but smoothly, but you didn’t get very far before Hyunjin, of all people, caught up to you. He had your not even half empty bubble tea in one hand, which you had conveniently not taken with you.

“You forgot this,” he stated the obvious, holding the drink out to you and you grabbed it, with the full intention of never drinking it either way.

You didn’t know what to say, but it was clearly not the right moment to turn around and just leave, so for a second you were simply staring at Hyunjin stubbornly, willing him to go back into the store. Instead, you found yourself wrapped in his arms, one of those hugs that were usually the most comforting thing in the world, but felt like pure torture now.

“Grab some sleep, ‘kay?” He was murmuring into your hair, and you closed your eyes and willed yourself to simply nod, praying that was answer enough. Let him think you were simply tired and exhausted; it was better than the alternative. “I don’t know what’s gotten you so down, but you know you’re still my favorite girl in the world, right bunny? You can talk to me about it.”

His words were just the cherry on top of a whole load of bullshit you did not want to deal with so you carefully untangled yourself, throwing him the most awkward thumbs up in the world, bubble tea in one hand, smile that couldn’t possibly have been convincing grazing your lips, before you turned around and almost bolted.

Things got worse from here on out, and the only one to blame was you. Having realized that you were clearly not cut out to handle the situation you had drawn back, spending the entirety of the next week by focusing on your courses and assignments, for once getting them done in time. Completely withdrawing from your friends did wonders for your work ethics, but Chaeryoung, who you had refused to fill in on the whole situation but knew something was wrong, kept repeating that this wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism.

You hadn’t completely withdrawn from everyone, because that would have only aroused suspicions that you could not have explained away. You did still reply in the group chat as if everything was fine, telling them that you were simply very busy and needed this time to focus on studying so you could stay on top of your courses. Whether they believed it or not was a different matter, but they left you be.

Hyunjin, however, knew you better and had been texting you the minute you bolted from him at the boba shop. He had also texted you the following three days, checking in if you were okay, if there was anything he could do, if you wanted to talk. You appeased him with excuses and conversation that you were sure he was seeing straight through. You weren’t actively trying to push him away, but whenever you received a text for him your brain shut down and you couldn’t help but feel as if everything you held dear was crumbling. Eventually Hyunjin gave up, and you weren’t surprised when, two days later on a Saturday midday, you finally received a text from Chan.

[11:14 AM] From: Chan 🐺

            You might be able to fool the guys but you’re not smooth enough to fool me.

[11:14 AM] I can’t force you to tell me what’s wrong but what you’re doing is unhealthy.

[11:16 AM] To: Chan 🐺

            Studying? I agree...

[11:17 AM] From: Chan 🐺

            I ain’t buying it.

There wasn’t another message for a couple of minutes and you thought that maybe you had avoided this conversation, even though Chan was undoubtedly disappointed you didn’t even talk to him after years of friendship. But just when you were ready to put this from your mind and focus on something else your phone buzzed again.

[11:23 AM] From: Chan 🐺

            Are you in love with Hyunjin again?

You were staring at your own phone screen in disbelief, half a heart to throw the device against the wall and move out of the country, but that would only confirm Chan’s suspicions. How did he even figure that out, having seen you once since that night and not again after that.

[11:24 AM] To: Chan 🐺

            No????

[11:25 AM] How did u even get that idea lmao chan I’ve been over him for the last two years

[11:26 AM] From: Chan 🐺

          He told me you’re barely answering his texts. Thinks he’s pissed you off but             the last time you got like that was when you thought you could get over your             crush.

[11:27 AM] To: Chan 🐺

            Idk what hes talking about, I told you all I’m busy.

You were bordering on snapping at your friends again, and you knew that your replies to Chan right now did nothing to convince him that he wasn’t right. Chan knew you too well, and if he’d already come to the conclusion himself then nothing you said or wrote could convince him otherwise, since he was right and he could tell.

Your phone buzzed again and the only reason you didn’t ignore the message was because you knew Chan would be at your front door in twenty minutes if you did, if he wasn’t on his way here already anyway. But the message wasn’t from Chan.

            [11:31 AM] From: Jinnie 🍓

            Don't know if u saw in the group chat but there's a pool party at Wooyoung's             later today

            [11:31 AM] I thought you might wanna come too

            [11:33 AM] I miss you.

I miss you. You read over those last three words again and again, ready to tear your hair out in frustration. He was missing his friend, of course he was, you had barely talked, let alone seen each other in a week, when you usually spent almost every day together. But the way those three words made your chest constrict and filled your stomach with a jittery feeling was absolutely ridiculous.

You had indeed seen the messages about the party in the group chat, but initially immediately decided that you would not go. But now that Hyunjin had asked you and you thought about it, it started to sound more and more like a great idea. Jung Wooyoung was was ridiculously rich and ridiculously spoiled, and if he threw a party it would be big. What better opportunity to prove to yourself that you were not in love with Hyunjin, than to go to a party filled with drunk frat boys? If nothing else, the alcohol would at least surely serve as another unhealthy coping mechanism to distract you. Your feelings for Hyunjin, if you could even call them that, were merely a crush anyways, and you were a big girl who could get over a crush, even though you knew that Chaeryoung would be telling you that this plan screamed disaster if you told her about it.

            [11:35 AM] To: Jinnie 🍓

            sure ill be there 👍

            [11:35 AM] miss you too!

It seemed to have become a common theme that you were running late where Hyunjin was concerned. You had taken too long for your make up, to choose what outfit to wear even though you ultimately settled on a cute swimsuit, an oversized t-shirt and shorts, as you had known you would.

You had told Hyunjin you missed him and that wasn’t a lie, but that only made the situation infinitely worse. You wanted to be able to act normal around him, to be friends with him exactly the way you used to be. It had been easy and comfortable and in the span of little over a week it had all be turned upside down. Now you were stuck in this awkward vacuum where you desperately missed your friend, yet every time you saw him your heart pinched and you couldn’t even look at him without behaving off.

The fact that he was so patient with you even though he had no idea what had happened to have you act so distant only spoke volumes about how good of a friend he really was, and it was high time you got your act together, because you did not want to lose this friendship, and acting the way you were, you were on the best way to achieving that.

With that resolution you approached Wooyoung’s house, the music audible even before you entered the front lawn. Sprinklers were placed on the lush green lawn, a few people lingering and shoving each other in the water. It was only six pm so the sun was still up high and strong. You entered the house, unsure where to start looking for your friends but you figured the back yard with the pool would be a good start.

It helped that they were usually loud, because as soon as you entered the garden through the balcony doors you had no trouble spotting Changbin and Felix in the crowd of people. They were in the pool, drenched head to toe because they were apparently fighting to see who could drown the other first. Letting your eyes pass on you found Chan with Seungmin by the lounge chairs, both a drink in hand. They had clearly spotted you too and were waving you over enthusiastically. You plopped down next to Chan on his lounge chair, eyeing his drink before you decided it was save and stole it from his grip to take a tentative sip, poking your tongue out at him.

“Okay, hello to you, too,” Chan laughed, grabbing his drink back before you could finish it for him. You greeted them both with a hug, surprised at how easy going it was now that you were here. It might have been because Chan and Seungmin weren’t the problem, but you decided not to dwell on it.

“Hi, sorry I’m late, I had to put together this killer outfit,” you explained, pointing at your oversized shirt, a strawberry stitched right in the middle.

“I can tell.” Chan laughed and you lightly punched him in the shoulder at his slander.

“You didn’t miss much, don’t worry,” Seungmin added, his own drink seemingly full and untouched because Seungmin was the responsible one of the group most of the time. “Changbin and Felix have been continuously trying to drown each other for the last hour, we’ve lost count of who’s winning. Minho is somewhere getting shitfaced with some guys from the dance department. Those dudes are so whack I didn’t even dare dwelve further into it.”

You pulled a face in sympathy, agreeing with Seungmin. Minho’s friends were… something else. If he was drinking with them, you wouldn’t be seeing much of him today and it was probably for the better, because they usually didn’t leave it at just drinking and while Minho could be eccentric when sober, high Minho was a lot.

“Jisung?” you asked, trying to spot him.

“Over at the bar with Jeongin.”

“And you let them go together?!” you spluttered because usually both Seungmin and Chan were big on treating Jeongin like a kid you all had to protect simply because he was a little younger than the rest of you.

“I’m not so much worried about Jeongin as I am about Jisung. Or did you forget that one time Jeongin convinced us to let him mix our drinks and you ended up throwing up after one Long Island Ice Tea?”

Thinking back to that evening with a shiver you had to agree with Chan. “I actually don’t remember,” you laughed. “Might be because that devil child mixed everything into that drink except for anything anti-alcoholic. Now I’m worried about Jisung.”

You noticed how neither of them had mentioned Hyunjin. You wanted to ask, but you were actually having a good time, so why ruin it sooner than necessary? Trying to spot Jisung and Jeongin over at the bar you let your eyes drift towards it, but you didn’t get much farther than the pool. You immediately knew why Chan had not said anything about Hyunjin and you really wished your chest wouldn’t feel as if someone had ripped it open. He was in the pool, wearing a white shirt for no apparent reason other than that the way it clung to his skin was surely driving everyone in proximity crazy. His long hair was wet, slicked back in a casual manner that implied he had ran his wet hand through it a lot. The problem wasn’t that he looked good enough to make you forget why you couldn’t be more than friends. The problem was that he wasn’t alone his hand resting lazily on another girl’s waist. Your brain shut down for a moment, unable to take in anything but the way he was touching her bare skin, until she laughed and turned a little more towards you and you unmistakably recognized Chaeyoung. So much for not wanting her.

You couldn’t blame him, heck, you had even tried to set him up, but somehow actually seeing her talk to him as intimately as they were was a whole other thing. He looked so heartbreakingly gorgeous, and you couldn’t deny that Chaeyoung looked good withhim.

You knew you shouldn’t be watching but you couldn’t look away. You always thought Hyunjin was just a naturally touchy person. You always told yourself the way he was with you was nothing special. But you also knew in your heart of hearts that you had always hoped that it was special, that it did mean more. Seeing him with Chaeyoung now though you knew with certainty that the way he usually touched you was nothing. You had clearly never witnessed Hyunjin flirting before.  

His hand was constantly in his hair, mussing up the long strands as if he knew exactly how good he looked with a few stray, wet strands in his face, drops of water chasing down the column of his neck. There was a light smile on his face, somewhere between a smirk and a genuinely nice smile, and god, he kept biting his full bottom lip. Chaeyoung was so close to him, Hyunjin’s hand not leaving her hip, and even from a distance you caught the way he was pressing his fingertips into her skin. You knew what it felt like and you couldn’t blame Chaeyoung for subtly inching closer to him. Yeah, you were definitely staring too much.

“Did they come here together?” you asked instead, the nonchalance in your voice a little too strained to be genuine, but the music was loud, people were shouting and just maybe neither Chan nor Seungmin caught it.

“Nope.” Chan let the word hang in the air for a moment, probably savoring that he knew exactly just how much you were dying for him to spill any more information. Seungmin, who was either just nicer or hadn’t caught up on what was going on, was your saving grace.

“Hyunjin came with us and we were waiting for you when Chaeyoung approached him. Asked if he wanted to help her with some game in the poolagainst Momo and San. Actually, that was a pretty smooth move of her because look where it got her. I’ve never seen Hyunjin flirt like that with a girl he just met. With any girl, really.” Neither had you. You had always kept the firm believe that Hyunjin subtly flirted with everyone but compared to what was going on with Chaeyoung right now, he had never flirted with you except that one night when he’d been drunk and wanted to check his bucket list, apparently.

As if Seungmin could read your mind he added, more subdued, “Well except you, but we all know you’re just friends.”

“She’s very pretty. They look good together,” you pressed out, ignoring how difficult it was for you to even say that, even though it was the truth.

You were still staring at them, despite better judgement, so you did not see the exchange between Chan and Seungmin until the latter got up, stating he would get you all new drinks.

“You looked like you needed something strong,” Chan offered up in an empathetic explanation and you rolled your eyes, knowing that with Seungmin gone, of course he would immediately pick up where your earlier text conversation had left off.

“Not because of them.” You denied, before Chan got the opportunity to say anything. “Like I said, they look good together. And anyway, I’m the one who tried to set him up with her. This is what I wanted.”

The words came easier the second time, and if it weren’t for the hollow feeling in your chest you could have even almost believed them. But your gaze stayed glued on the pool, and now Hyunjin was brushing his thumb over her lips and you could tell Chaeyoung was melting.

“You should just tell him, you know. He probably thinks he did something wrong, and I figured I’m not the one to tell him what the actual problem is.”

He was of course referring back to your earlier conversation and about how he was so sure your crush on Hyunjin was back with a vengeance. If only Chan knew what the real problem was, which was so much more complicated than just a crush. But you were not about to disclose that information, now or ever.

“There’s nothing to tell him, Chan. My crush is found dead in a ditch. Abandoned, starved, withered away,” you forced your eyes away from the two, focusing on Chan instead as if that would prove a point. “Feelings for Hyunjin? I don’t know them.”

For a moment Chan only looked at you, with that one specific gaze that your mother had also perfected, and that made you feel all the worst ways of guilty about lying. But you wouldn’t give in, not about this. What would even be the point of admitting that you were crushing on your friend again, if only to make the problem all the more real and imminent. Ignoring it until it went away had worked before and it would work again, and Hyunjin getting awfully close with a very pretty girl would only help.

“You do know that could be you, right?”

Now your head did whip around, making the mistake of looking again and, god, Hyunjin’s face was buried in the crook of her neck but with his wet hair out of his face you caught the way he bit down, tongue darting out a moment after. How Chaeyoung was still standing upright was beyond you. You had been in that situation. For just a few moments this had been you and you were built different, going weak in the knees from just the thought.

But Chan didn’t know that. On surface level what he just said was ridiculous in your eyes, and you were hellbent on conveying that, and that only.

“Now how could that be me?” you questioned, fully ignoring that it had been you a week ago. It had only taken Hyunjin getting drunk and ignoring the fact that he was putting the friendship on the line to give you a taste of what was otherwise unachievable to you. It wasn’t comparable to sober Hyunjin kissing up Chaeyoung’s neck with very clear intentions. “That’s right, it couldn’t be.” You answered your own question before Chan could. “Hyunjin is a friend.”

“Yes, clearly he’s just a friend to you.”

You sighed impatiently, shoulders slumping because everything seemed to always be coming back to this.

“It doesn’t matter what Ifeel,” you disregarded the jab, subliminally admitting to Chan that he had been right, but it didn’t matter because he had known already even without you confirming it.  “If it were up to me, then yes, I’d replace myself with Chaeyoung in a heartbeat. But that’s not what Hyunjin wants, since he’s touching her like that, and not me.”

The words sounded as bitter as you felt. Not towards Chaeyoung, who had simply gotten lucky, but towards your whole situation of having this hopeless, stupid crush.

Of course Seungmin chose exactly that moment to resurface from the bar, no doubt having heard at least your last sentence. He wordlessly pressed your cup, filled to the brim with something hopefully strong, in your hand and settled down opposite of you.

“Listen,” he started, and you noticed Chan trying to subtly shake his head and shut Seungmin up, but the boy wasn’t deterred. “I can’t believe you don’t see it. I promised Chan I would stay out of it but you sound miserable. Hyunjin does treat you differently. All the little touches? Yes, he’s a naturally touchy person, but with you it’s softer, it’s- I don’t know, it’s different, and we all can tell.”

Seungmin’s words made your heart ache anew, but you were trying your hardest not to let it show. It didn’t matter what they think they saw, the only thing that mattered were the things Hyunjin said and did, and they spoke volumes to you. “No offense, Seungmin, but all of you are pretty hopeless when it comes to dating so I don’t exactly trust your advice.”

“You’re not wrong-“ Seungmin admitted but raised a finger to stop you from saying anything else and interrupt his speech. “- but my point stands. The way he’s touching Chaeyoung now? We all know what the goal is here, even if the motive confuses me. It’s just not like Hyunjin. But nevermind that, there’s a difference to how he touches you, and it doesn’t say ‘I just want to sleep with you’.”

You huffed, focusing on your drink instead and breaking the eye contact with Seungmin because you didn’t have an answer for him. You didn’t even know what to make of his words. If you thought about it, you always had told yourself that Hyunjin was just touchy, but Seungmin had a point. He was different with you, it was softer, more tentative. But he also had touched you exactly the way he did with Chaeyoung now, so what did that tell you?

He had proven he could get with you, too, and that left you with the same confusion you had felt all along. He had proven he could get with you and tick that off his bucket list. Friends did that, too, of course. You didn’t gain anything from that insight except for the certainty that you had to stop feeling anything other than amicably for him, because he did not reciprocate these feelings in any way.

Panicking slightly, you gripped both your hands onto your solo cup and chugged down a good gulp, coughing as the alcohol washed down your throat. Already raising it to your lips again you caught Chan’s expression, eyebrow raised.

“I know you’re always drinking when you’re trying to avoid something. Are we finally going to talk about this or…?”

“Or!” you grinned, successfully downing the rest of your cup and jumping up in a rush to get a refill. 

One cup turned into two cups turned into four cups and you were well into feeling light and much more carefree than you had about an hour ago. You had lost sight of Hyunjin and Chaeyoung, which was quite the feat considering that your eyes couldn’t seem to stay away from them, but somewhere between your third drink and almost being wrestled into the pool by Jisung with all of your clothes on, your mind had stopped keeping track of the two of them.

You weren’t quite sure why you had been so obsessed in the first place when you came here. It was a great party, there was a pool, alcohol, all of your friends were here. So what if Hyunjin was finally hooking up? You had always tried to get him to do that, and hadn’t you told yourself you’d come here precisely to get a distraction as well?

Yeah, maybe you were secretly throwing a little hissy fit because he had texted you he missed you, but he had not even made the time to talk to you since you got here, too busy sucking up on Chaeyoung. He probably hadn’t even noticed you. But you were trying to convince yourself that this was a good thing, this was what you wanted, and with every additional cup you succeeded a bit more.

The sun had stopped burning down quite so mercilessly, but even with sundown the temperatures were high. With the terrace packed with people it was still uncomfortably hot. You weren’t about to jump in a pool at a frat house that was at this point probably as much alcohol as it was water, but you weren’t above settling down on the edge and sticking your legs in to cool down a little.

“You know, usually we throw these parties to see cute girls in tiny bikinis,” a teasing voice piqued up, tone casual and tinged with amusement, telling you that he didn’t mean his words quite so seriously.

“I guess I came to the wrong party, then, but you should have plenty of options,” you pointed out before your gaze fell on the person speaking and your breath got stuck in your chest for just the shortest moment before you caught yourself, relaxing at the edge of the pool. Seonghwa was in swim shorts, long blonde slicked back in wet strands, sunglasses resting on top of them surely solely for effect. He was wearing white sleeveless shirt which he clearly hadn’t bothered taking off before jumping into the pool. With the way it clung to his body and had turned transparent he might as well not be wearing anything, except the thin layer of wet clothing made the whole look so much more delectable. He was fully doing this on purpose, and very much aware of the effect he had. Yeah, he definitely knew he looked good.

“Oh, I wasn’t finished yet.”

You raised an eyebrow in amusement, curious what other line he was about to throw your way.

“I appreciate this get-up,” he lazily waved a finger to indicate he was talking about your oversized shirt hiding your bikini. “Because I do enjoy a good challenge.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his sleazy comment. The way he delivered it so confidently, as if he truly believed he was the smoothest guy at this whole party was nothing short of hilarious, and it seemed to have been the exact effect he had been going for. He was good.

He knew exactly what to say, when to raise his eyebrow just the slightest bit or when to let his tongue peak out, barely wetting his lips, to push just the right buttons. And it seemed that making you laugh had been exactly the point of his over-the-top comments, because he was wearing a confident grin, chuckling along with you.

“Was that too much?”

You didn’t fail to notice that he was not so subtly inching closer to you, almost close enough to brush your legs tangling in the water with his body.

You playfully dipped your hand into the water, splashing his upper body and shoulders with a few drops of water before you shrugged with a grin of your own.

“You don’t look like someone who struggles with getting a girl out of her shirt, like, at all. I’m not buying it.”

“A shame. Let me try again?” He definitely knew that he already had you hooked, but he still pretended to be making an effort, even though you knew he was mostly doing this to amuse you. This boy really knew how to get what he wanted.

“Sure,” you encouraged him, nodding your head to signal him to go ahead. You didn’t expect him to step up to you, one hand tracing up the outer side of your leg, coming to halt slightly above your knee. He was pushing your legs apart, but so gently that if you didn’t want it you could stop this anytime. But you would’ve lied if you said you weren’t curious how far he was going with this, and his fingertips, wet and cool, felt nice on the warm skin of your thighs. You should have known he wouldn’t stop there, but your breath still hitched when he leant in, strands of his hair falling forward and trickling drops of pool water on your exposed collarbones. His mouth was just close enough to feel his warm breath on your skin but nothing more.

“Wanna take off that shirt and get wet for me?”

And because he wanted to watch the effect he had on you, he didn’t even stay close to let you bask in the feeling of his breath ghosting over your skin. Instead leant back and ran his hand through his wet hair to push the long strands back again.

For a second you were dumbstruck, the words sinking in, before you started laughing even harder than before, noticing the satisfied smirk on his face. You also didn’t fail to notice his hand rising up higher on your thighs, or the way his thumb had started drawing circles on your skin ever since he had stepped closer and didn’t step away again. He was very subtle about it, but at some point between delivering that horrible line and watching your reaction he had eliminated the distance between your bodies, fully standing between your now embarrassingly wide spread legs.

On a whim you raised your hand, running your own fingers through his bleached hair because every time he did it you were itching to do the same. You tugged, just a little to test how he would react, when you reached his lengths. The effect was immediate, his fingers digging into your skin, bottom lip stuck between his teeth to stop the soft moan bubbling over his lips.

“Knew you’d like that one.” His voice was more of a grumble at this point, and you were amazed just how much of an effect a little hair pulling had.

“Actually, it was horrible,” you teased him, a smile playing on your lips while your fingers stayed buried in his hair, toying with the strands and pulling slightly from time to time just to watch him shudder between your legs.

“But it still worked, didn’t it?” he pushed, his fingers inching closer up your inner thigh to indicate what he meant and you didn’t quite manage to suppress the shiver, proving him right. “Were you thinking about fucking me back at the karaoke bar too?”

You didn’t get the chance to come up with a witty reply, because before you could even gather your thoughts you were splashed with such an absurd amount of water it left you  drenched from head to toe. Both you and Seonghwa jumped, him pulling away from you and you effectively slipping over the edge of the pool and falling straight into the water with all of your clothes on. You were never happier than in that moment that you had left your bag including your phone with Chan. It didn’t change the fact, however, that you were dripping wet, shirt sticking to your body like a second skin.

“What the actual fuck?!” you sputtered, almost at the same time as Seonghwa, who seemed equally as pissed, both turned towards the person who had decided to jump into the pool right next to you as if they couldn’t tell they were interrupting. Your outrage was joined by the guy who had been responsible for splashing you with water and looked almost more irritated than you. You didn’t know him, but judging by how he was fuming he has clearly not voluntarily jumped in the pool just now. His gaze wasn’t directed at you either, but at someone standing at the edge of the pool. You followed his line of sight, even more confused when you saw it was Hyunjin, drink in one hand and the other one raised in mock defense because the cocky grin on his face told a whole other story.

“What’s your problem, dude?!” the boy burst up and Hyunjin had the audacity to shrug, not even really looking at the other guy, catching your gaze instead.

“Oops, I’m so sorry,” Hyunjin downright drawled, and you would’ve exploded if you wouldn’t have been so confused what on earth had gotten into him. You ignored the huffing of the dude crawling out of the pool, the same way Hyunjin ignored the dirty look he threw him for intentionally pushing him into the pool. It wasn’t like Hyunjin and you were utterly dumbfounded what he was suddenly acting like this, the only indication being the cup in his hand and the clear lilt to his voice, although even drunk he had never been like this before.

“I sure hope I didn’t ruin the mood, you two seemed awfully cozy.”

You had never heard him speak in such a venomous, mean tone. This wasn’t your Hyunjin, because in three years of friendship he had never spoken to you or anyone else with the intention to hurt. He was many things, overly-dramatic, exaggerating and sometimes even extremely petty, but Hyunjin wasn’t cruel. Until now.

You just wanted him to stop talking but he pushed on, ignoring the pained look on your face if he even caught it. He seemed a little too drunk to have any tactfulness.

“Nice of you to show up, by the way. I can tell you missed me by how you’re trying to hop onto his dick.”

His last words were a sneer, head nodding towards Seonghwa, whose presence you felt closely behind you. Your mind immediately jumped back to the conversation during karaoke night, and how Hyunjin had decided that Seonghwa wasn’t worth of your attention, but you hadn’t thought he was quite so serious about this. You were old enough to decide for yourself if you wanted a hook-up, and hadn’t he been the one doing the same thing earlier? And he had not come to talk to you either, even though he allegedly missed you, so it was extremely hypocritical of him to blame you for that. At least you had given him space and freedom with his hook-up, because it simply wasn’t your business and you had no claim on him. You had hoped this party would finally smooth things over between Hyunjin and you after he had invited you and told you he missed you, but if anything it had only torn you more apart. Not because he had snuggled up to Chaeyoung, but because you couldn’t wrap your mind around how hurtful he was behaving towards you right now, without any good reason.

If you didn’t know any better you would have called his behavior jealousy. But you weren’t delusional, and even if it was true there had been many instances where Hyunjin had his chance to make his intentions clear.

He was the one who didn’t remembe he fingered you. You were sure his current words and behavior would eventually cut deep but right at that moment it only filled you with an anger to rival his.

“You’re clearly drunk, Hyunjin. Go home and get sober, and then we can talk about whatever just went down here.”

You tried to keep your voice even and calm despite how riled up this situation had left you. He wouldn’t be saying these things if he were sober, and if for nothing but the sake of your friendship you would give him the courtesy to explain himself when he was sober and had his thoughts together. You wouldn’t, however, let him ruin your night and this party. Seonghwa had clearly been aching for a hook-up and if anything, this fight and a good distraction could only help to move on from Hyunjin. Deciding that nothing good would come from this now you turned to Seonghwa, who was watching the whole exchange with mild interest until now, trying not to look too obviously amused.

“Can I borrow a shirt of yours or something? Seems like I did end up dripping wet after all,” you directed towards him with a cringe and the switch in his face was immediate, going from amusement to focusing his whole attention on you with something much more intense underlying.

“Sure, angel.” He was nodding his head towards the edge of the pool, helping you out of the water, your wet clothes gushing and effectively drenching the whole side of the terrace where you were standing. You wouldn’t have actually cared, but Hyunjin’s whole intention had been to fuck up your evening, and you were determined to go through with this if only out of spite. If Seonghwa caught on, which was hard not to, he clearly didn’t care because he lifted himself out of the pool after you, giving yourself a good eyeful of his arms flexing, water dripping down his back in a way that made you dig your nails into your palm. Stepping up to you and completely ignoring Hyunjin, which was quite the feat because he was glaring daggers at you at this point, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around your waist smoothly as if he had done it many times before.

“Just checking, but we’re going upstairs so I can fuck you, right?”

“God, yes.”

#hyunjin #hyunjin smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin

[drinkingcoffee-inthedark]

unrequited

warning(s): implied smut, angst

pairing(s): Azriel x Reader, Lucien x Reader

word count: 676

this may come a series depending on response. idk yet. maybe become reader insert or i may just name the character. literally no clue where this is going 😅

Azriel held her in his arms tightly, her back pressed against his front. The scent of their mixed arousal still hung heavy in the air, even though she’d already been asleep for over an hour now. The Shadowsinger couldn’t give himself over to his desire to sleep; not yet. He wanted to enjoy this while he could. He knew she wouldn’t be there when he woke up.

He held his scarred hand flat, just underneath her breasts, feeling the steady rhythm of her breaths. She was so peaceful like this. Such a rare occurrence during their missions. She was one of his spies. Technically his subordinate, which should feel wrong. But it didn’t.

It made it even worse for Azriel when his mating bond with Gwyn snapped months ago. But he didn’t know why that didn’t override all of his senses; why it didn’t consume him the way the female in his arms did. Gwyn didn’t feel the bond yet, but he still felt a little bit guilty having another female in his bed when he finally found his mate.

It was just sex. That’s what they’d agreed upon. They were friends with benefits, nothing more. That was punctuated by the fact that Azriel knew she found herself in Lucien’s bed almost as much as his own. It started just as soon as Elain had rejected the bond with the redhead. He’d asked her why she’d bedded Lucien once before. That conversation ended in an argument.

“His heart is broken. I just want to make him feel better,” she told him, “It’s none of your business who I sleep with.” Because that’s what she was good at. Making the people around her feel good. And she was right. He had no claim to her.

Azriel was furious with that answer. Furious at her. She broke his own heart over and over, and yet, she seemed to care about Lucien’s. Maybe she thought the brooding Shadowsinger didn’t have one. And maybe he didn’t with the way he spat back at her.

“Maybe you’re just taking advantage of his heartbreak to get what you want.”

Her eyes welled with tears and she hastily put her clothes back on.

“Fuck you, Azriel,” she whispered, deathly quiet as she slipped from his room. They didn’t talk for a week after that. He sent a shadow to follow her the whole week. It followed her to Lucien’s apartment three days that week.

The shadow reported back to its master with more detail than he wanted. The way she tipped her head back and laughed at his clever quips. The way his hand rubbed her shoulder gently, and his soft comforting words when she told him about her fight with Azriel.

Lucien assured her that he wanted her too. That she didn’t take advantage of him. His shadows told him all about how she climbed on Lucien’s lap after that and rode him right there on the couch; told him how she threw her head back and screamed his name when she came. The toe-curling ecstasy the redhead sent her into. She cooked him dinner that night, in his quaint little kitchen. His shadows told him that she stayed the night. Something she never did with himself.

Azriel hated the Emissary for being the one to soothe the wounds that he caused. He hated himself more for causing them in the first place. He hated that it was Lucien making her scream in pleasure. Most of all, he hated that she talked with -she laughed- with him. Hated that she spent the night with Lucien’s arms around her.

Azriel sighed deeply, finally closing his eyes. He couldn’t keep them open any longer. He was already well into his deep sleep when the beautiful female in his arms slid out of her bed and redressed.

She stood in the doorway, watching his peaceful slumber. He snored softly, making her smile. When a hint of the sun started peeking through the curtains, she reluctantly turned on her heel and headed towards her own room.

#acotar #idk what this is #or what it’s going to be #I’m just here for the drama #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acosf #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #azriel/reader #Lucien/reader #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction

[valeriehalla]

This month I have been engaging in a project titled "Valerie's Back-To-School Babyfication," the story of which follows at length.

On November third, as the clock ticked nearer to midnight and I had still not managed to get any of the huge amount of work I planned to do done, frustration mounting to untold levels, I told myself this: If I can work for literally 30 minutes on literally anything at all, I will count it as a "win," and then I will play SNES games and eat clearance Halloween candy and go to bed.

How did I get to this level of dysfunction? Well, uhhhh. My work life is chaos. I mean this in the mathematical sense: It's a system that compounds upon itself unpredictably given small changes to its initial conditions. One day a long time ago (I assume), in the middle of what was probably a perfectly functional workweek, some distraction kept me from getting as much work done as I wanted. And I said, "No problem -- I'll make up for it tomorrow!"

When inevitably I didn't make up for it the next day, because the stress of the looming jumbo-sized workload just made me procrastinate rather than work harder or faster, I repeated myself: I'll simply do an absurd amount of work next time. And I really, truly believed in my ability to do this!!! I considered it a fully normal and realistic aspiration. You have no idea how long I can lead myself on like this. You're sitting there thinking, "eventually you're going to be telling yourself you're gonna do 25 hours of work in a day, and that's just silly." And you mean it as a joke, like as a logical demonstration of why this pattern of thinking is flawed. And I'm telling you:

For about a year, I carried on waking up every day fully intending to do months' worth of unfinished work before bed that same day.

Like, okay. I didn't think this literally. But I believed it in spirit and in practice. At some point I had been playing catch-up on a pile of work for so long that I didn't even remember when it had started accumulating. All I knew is that if I wanted to prove myself, to get things back to normal, to remember what it's like to be a functional human being, I had to catch up. I needed this. I needed a win.

The stress of this monumental self-imposed workload eventually meant that more days than not I went to bed having not done any work at all. Something would go just a little wrong with my day and I would know that This Isn't The One. This isn't The Day I Get My Life Back Together. I woke up a little too late, I spent a little too long reading, whatever. The size of the task demanded absolute perfection. The endeavor had to get off on the right foot.

I'm like the most cartoonish morning person you've ever met. No matter what happened the previous day, I always woke up feeling nothing but excitement about the endless possibilities of the day ahead of me. This quirk gave my emotional highs and lows the characteristic shape of a sawtooth wave: Sky-high morale in the morning, steadily decreasing as the day wears on and the perfect possibilities turn into mediocre realities, until my body hits the bed in utter dejection.

Occasionally I would luck into a string of days that really did go just right, and I would sputter back into a work machine. But as time went on and the pile of unfinished dreams grew, this got rarer and rarer. Eventually, with the help of a few tragic life events, my dysfunctional freefall hit terminal velocity. I didn't have the ability to have a functional workday anymore. Even still, I carried on picking up my pieces, believing full-heartedly that tomorrow would be the day.

This utterly depressing cycle would have surely continued unto my death and perhaps even my subsequent reincarnations had it not been for the events of November 3rd, when, in a fit of frankly maniacal frustration, I told myself that I would call it a win if I could just do thirty minutes of work on literally anything.

You wanna know what happened?

I mean, I kind of doodled awkwardly for 30 minutes until the kitchen timer went off and then set my tablet aside and ate candy. The doodle wasn't even good, like, it completely sucked because by this point I hadn't actually drawn anything in about a month?

Here's the part that's really stupid. I decided to commit to the bit. I decided that this really did count as a win. It was the first win I'd given myself in God knows how long -- a year?? Long enough that the idea of what constituted a "win" had become nebulous and fleeting, like chasing my own shadow. So it felt, honestly, darkly humorous to call this thirty minutes of trashy scribbling a victory worthy of spending the rest of the night relaxing.

I did, though. And I thought to myself: "Maybe tomorrow I can try for 45 minutes."

This is what I've been calling my "Back-To-School Babyfication Project." (Read the title in the same voice as "Human Instrumentality Project," please.) The rules are simple: Every day, try doing fifteen more minutes of work than the previous day, unless the previous day sucked, in which case try the same amount. I briefly considered adding half an hour a day, because I wanted to get up to what I once considered "full speed" as soon as possible, but I stuck with 15 minutes. I mean, am I not the baby who is going back to school?

I'm all the way up to 2 hours and 45 minutes now, which, if you're the math-doing type, you'll notice means I actually failed this challenge a few times in the past couple weeks, so great is my dysfunction. But I'm winning more often than I'm not. And when the timer beeps, I put work away and don't think about it.

It owns!!!

I'm using kind of self-deprecating language here, but I need you to understand that I feel incredibly empowered. I decided for once to not believe in myself, and the results have been life-changing. It's actually great to be The Baby Who's Going Back To School!!!

It is my nature that I sometimes have to learn simple lessons over and over again. Here's a simple lesson: If you want to climb a mountain, you should probably, like -- I don't know, try climbing a rock first? Maybe some stairs? Even if you've climbed a mountain before -- even if you've built your whole identity as a human being around climbing mountains in a unique and personally meaningful way -- you probably can't just, like, decide to do it if you've spent the last forever not doing it.

One more: The stuff that you do that's not climbing mountains or rocks or whatever is non-optional. You don't stroll up to a mountain, try getting up there, fail, and then just, like, hang out indefinitely until the spirit of rock climbing inhabits your body once again. Like a hungry Sim who couldn't find a path to the microwave so now they're just standing in the kitchen crying and peeing themselves as their green gem turns red. You're gonna die up on that mountain, little baby!! You need to sip some juice and go back to school!!

See what I mean? Really, really obvious lessons. But I found ways to not learn them. I don't know why, or how. (Let's be honest: It's probably ADHD.) I'm just like this, and I won't get anywhere by pretending I'm not.

For those in the back, this is what I'm learning at baby school, without the metaphor:

Productivity is all about habits. You will always tend to do whatever it is you already tend to do. If you want to develop better habits, take your time and start small.

You have to clearly delineate work from the rest of your life. This is hard when you're self-employed and you work from home, and harder still if you're some kind of artist, because that means that your work is also probably the thing you (at least theoretically) like to do more than anything in the world. But you must: You have to be able to imagine a world in the far future -- of like 9 PM -- in which you are no longer working because you stopped working because it was time to stop working, because that means you're allowed to do things other than work!! Even Minecraft doesn't count as procrastination when you're officially Off Work!!

Be strict about your limits. Never work unpaid overtime, even for yourself. Under no circumstances ever fall into the mindset of playing "make-up" for yesterday's unfinished business. Definitely never do it twice!!

Sometimes winning is just losing with grace and clarity of purpose.

Anyway I have to go draw for almost three whole hours, so I'll see you later!!! ILU bye!!!

#text #‟news???‟

[eerna]

I'm sorry I know it's been more than three hours but I'm still deep in my feels about totk and literally crying at the fact that Link, deeply hurt Link dropped the Master Sword and jumped into the void to try to catch and save Zelda, I'm so unwell about this, excuse me...

After everything these children have been throught, the fact that their friends and families died, the kingdom came to ruin, Link died and woke up an hundred years later, had to fix a past he doesn't remember and fight for a better future while trying to piece back his own memories and identity, meanwhile Zelda was imprisoned and had to fought against a monster all alone for so long while grieving but still trying to be hopeful that Link might wake up someday without any certainty... And the fact that they were already both suffering because of their destiny even before the tragedy hit, and thinking that at the end of botw they thought they could finally be free and heal, finally gain back their lifes and get to experience the freedom they never had like the teenagers they are...

But no ganondorf is still here and everything they went throught, the time and peoples they have lost, the suffering, sacrifices, and destruction were all for nothing ! And just that fact alone is enough to break my heart but it doesn't end there, Link gets deeply hurt, adding more scars to the ones he already has especially the ones that killed him an hundred years ago (according to Robbie they are visible), but he stands up to ganondorf like he stood in front of the guardians in the blatchery plain, because Link will fight till his last breath especially to protect Zelda, but Zelda falls and he literally drops his most precious weapon in hope to join and save her, and then zelda begs to save him? (the "lend him your power" thing) because Zelda would do everything to save him like she did in these fields an hundred years ago... These children would do anything for each other and the worst is that they will probably get separated again, and who knows what will happen to Zelda...

Also seeing hyrule which got the time to heal and thrive in the last hundred years, dear beloved hyrule in which Link spent so long adventuring in, in such a state of ruins and despair hurts.

Botw felt like hope, freshness and somehow innocence, a slow, almost kind and sweet rebirth after tragedy, the turning of a new page while still honoring the past, almost like moving on and healing while the scars are still there but slowly fading, not hiding them but rebuilding and growing around those scars... But now totk seems more like despair, and the inevitably of tragedy, of this endless cycle of suffering the three protagonists are stuck in, that they can do anything, fight throught countless lifetimes like the hero and princess before them, they can't escape fate, it will still catch them up and this curse won't break nor end, and even Zelda is not so sure that they will be able to stop ganondorf this time.... idk we still don't know much about the story but it's some things I've felt watching all these trailers even thought the adventures in the sky and all the past elements, with the ancients tunics etc seems more joyful...

Anyway I spiraled a lot as you can see, it's so long and I didn't make much sense like my broken English but I needed to talk about this, I'm so sorry haha... But my point is that Link and Zelda are literally two children all alone at the center of all these tragedies, burdened by their fates and the responsibility of saving hyrule and everyone, but they got each others and would do anything for one another and if they don't at least hug or hold hands in totk I would be sad.

Same anon as that long ask from before, I just realised but Link might have jump after her also because he didn't want her to be alone, he didn't want to be alone, he didn't want to be separated again, that at least this time they stay together whatever danger awaits them... this is giving big percabeth fall into the tartarus vibes and I'm still crying about zelink....

Don't worry, I understood you perfectly and agree with everything. I AM SO SAD!!! The first game is all about how even after apocalypse there is beauty, there is a second chance, Zelda is constantly telling you she believes in you and so is the world itself,,,, so seeing Hyrule all dark and empty and littered with unknown objects and hearing Zelda saying she doesn't think there's much chance this time FLOORED me. I mean yay, a sequel, but also MY EMOTIONS HURT. They were supposed to be safe!!!! She was supposed to feel good about her lack of power because for the first time it didn't matter if she had it!!!! HE WAS SUPPOSED TO WALK IN STEP WITH HER INSTEAD OF SEVERAL STEPS BACK BECAUSE THEY WERE NO LONGER THE PRINCESS AND HER KNIGHT!!!!!! He jumped after her.....................

#eernask #eernanon #eernask talk loz #it's always funny when people apologize for broken english like honey english is my third language i didnt notice any mistakes at ALL

[lucysweatslove]

I have way too much on my plate and am in such a bad mood.

Last night my parents decided to have another argument over my dad’s new speakers. For context, he got his old set in the 90s. He started looking into a new setup a couple years ago. This was a huge source of strife in their definitely not super rocky marriage (sarcasm) where my dad would go to Best Buy just to listen to cool speakers and have to hide it from my mom. Note that both my parents are working professionals and have more than enough money for new speakers. They have a very nice retirement nest egg and are well off enough to literally pay for my med school without any issues. They paid off their home years ago.

My dad is also huge into music. For as long as I can remember, his music collection has been super prized and special. Once I took one of his CDs and almost lost it, and it was so distressing to him that he moved his entire collection away from the family’s. He would put loud surfer music on to relax when I was a kid and spent a lot of time watching music performances from the 60s and 70s. He got Sirius XM when I was in middle school and would routinely quiz me on the music, saying I should just be able to recognize a band from their style. When I was a young teen, he shared another album with me when I was sick, and that was like, the most special way he knew how to connect.

My point being, music isn’t a new hobby and my parents have more than enough money to get him a fancy hifi set. My mom just kept refusing because why aren’t the “top of the line” speakers from the 90s good enough?

Well my dad finally got his new speakers but decided to move them to his (home) office. So he did. And that set off another argument with threats of divorce.

And they brought my little sister into the middle of it using hugely manipulative language. Yeah my sis is now technically an adult, but she’s still their child and it’s grossly inappropriate to put your child in between the two of you. She’s a human, not a pawn.

So I woke up in a shit mood already, and I had a busy day of a doctor’s appointment, a therapy appointment, clinical medicine workshop, then a class where I have to give a stupid chalk talk which I’ve been so sick and so busy that I just. Haven’t had time to prepare at all.

And as I start getting dressed, I realize I have no idea if I’m expected to be in professional dress for the workshop because there is no indication online if we have guest panelists or speakers or sim patients. But the professional clothes are all overstimulating and itchy and I was like *this close* to mini meltdown status, so I emailed the course lead to ask… put on clothes that were just comfortable in the mean time… packed a bag with professional clothes to change into if needed..

I get an email back that doesn’t even answer the question, stating that professional attire is required for patients, sim patients, speakers, and panelists. Which I knew. I didn’t know if we had another of those today, because there isn’t any info about it online. I emailed back but haven’t heard back.

My doctor is now running 45 min late (I’ve been here for over an hour), I had to turn off the lights in the exam room because they were too bright, and I had to cancel/reschedule therapy because it was supposed to start at 11.

I’m not mad at anybody in particular other than my parents. I’m just annoyed and overstimulated and want to crawl into a dark pit and sob.

And of course in the car to the hospital, I was practicing telling the nurse I would like to decline being weighed. Because I know it would be triggering. But when she grabbed me, I couldn’t do it.

[desiredprince]

THINGS about Lestat that I personally love –

His temperament is horrible but honestly, even though he keeps himself upright & fancy. Like a proper charming gentlemen — that can EASILY all crumble into nothing cus, like a child, he loses his temper & with snap in instant ( as everyone has seen ) He also acts out these impulses as he thinks them without worrying of the consequences naturally, he doesn’t care. 

The guy is sentimental. He STILL can’t quite bring himself to visit the old building in Paris where he and Nicki spent hours and hours talking all those years ago. Nickie is also that trigger button that NO one should bring up. Looking & you, Amadeo.  He also get’s extremely fed up with feeling guilty about everything he has done in his life. Nicki, Claudia, Louis, Antoine — the list goes on and on and on.

Lestat is a gift giver, especially after he knows he did something wrong. He will give give give until you forgive him & everything is alright again. He will give you the WORLD if he so sees fit. 

His FAVORITE smells are confederate jasmine, old wood, coffee, Angel’s Trumpet flowers, mown grass, mossy trees, sweet olive & roasting chestnuts. — REMINDS him of home. 

LOVES the long conversation with Louis. Hours & hours will go by with both of them just chatting. He’s in pure bliss, that is probably why he hated when such a thing was interrupted. 

RAPID healing powers ! His blood makes you heal & he heals pretty quickly himself. This obviously explains why he could heal after being drowned in the swamp, thrown off the tower, crushed to death & drained from his blood. The guy’s been to hell in search of Nicki & survived the burnings — but no one brings that up. I feel like he could have easily healed Louis more quickly back to his normal self but he was incapable of doing so because of the instant guilt he felt. 

Lestat is fashionable & when I am reading his books he doesn’t fail to remind me what he is wearing. Dude, I know, you like fluffy things & looking nice —egotistic, for sure. His greatly concerned with fashion of the centuries & I feel like modern day he is a model, photographic from all angles. I love that he’s so upkeep with the current fashions of the world & has the money to afford whatever is in style. 

Now despite what the new show has said about Lestat being illiterate, he isn’t. He was for the first portion of his life but he learned to read in French first & then in English. He LOVES Shakespeare & old gothic literature. However, his attention span isn’t the best so it just takes him a long time to finish something that he is reading. This is why if the book turns into an opera or a play, you can best believe he is there in a heartbeat. I can see him fucking up some Audible in this day in age. He even CHOOSES to write his novels in English & I also love that “he speaks English like a cross between a boatman and Sam Spade". ( Quote from Anne herself ) So go ahead, call him illiterate all you want. 

As someone who plays the violin, I love that Lestat can too ! Nicki’s violin no less ; ;  the fact that it’s Nicki’s is what makes me want to cry my eyes out, someone hold my hand. 

Hang on, I forgot the one of the MOST important things, Lestat drank from Akasha,  The Great Mother herself ! You know, the legendary vampire that was the first of her kind. The one that turned to stone, her skin reflected the light of the moon. Lestat woke her up despite the warnings, on impulse he DRANK from her, not caring about the consequences. 

Rockstar era, that’s it. 

When his dad was dying, Louis was there to help aid him, Lestat BANGED POTS & PANS because Louis was worried about helping the old man  rather than giving the brat prince attention —- hello ? A child, one that I couldn’t help but laugh at. 

We’re NOT going to get into body switching. Him & David were literal besties —- no one really talks about the powers these vampire’s posses all the way. From stopping literal time, healing people, reading minds, altering reality, switching bodies. It’s insane but gosh I love that Lestat literally says WATCH THIS, I CAN DO IT BETTER THAN YOU.

[gclionessa1230]

Part 7 snippet

i'm on a roll with this somehow but i like what i've got and there's more to come.. the Fire-Cats will be located as will Cynthia's mother (that's coming so no spoilers..)

Lion-O spent time with Cynthia in the medical bay as often as he could but seeing as how things with her weren’t changing in terms of her either getting better or showing signs of improving, he was beginning to lose hope on her ever waking. It was disheartening but the ladies remained by her side as did Lioness-A. There wasn’t much they could do to persuade Lion-O to visit Cynthia except every other day or so and only for a couple of hours.

“We’ve got to do something about this your highness,” Amnextria said as Lioness-A sighed heavily. “If this keeps up on Lion-O not wanting to come around to be with Cynthia, then the relationship they have is as good as over once she wakens.”

“The problem is that he doesn’t think that she’s going to recover,” Lioness-A said. “There’s been almost no changes over the last two or three weeks and the healers are talking about putting in a line to provide nutrients for Cynthia. There’s not much else they can do for her at this point.”

“We may have another issue,” Oona said when she met up with the two in the ICU waiting room. “I just saw the king walking around the gardens with a young lioness named Calica earlier this morning and it looked serious.” That brought Lioness-A up short.

“Who is she?” she asked quietly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“A daughter to one of the prides that’s near the polar ice caps from what I’ve been able to learn,” Oona told her. “And I’ve only spoken to her one time.” Lioness-A growled slightly.

“Stay here and let me know if the healers bring you any news on Cynthia. They were conducting a CT and MRI on her today to see what’s going on exactly,” she said as she headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Amnextria asked.

“To find Lion-O and get his side of the story on this. He’s betraying Cynthia by doing this and I think he’s forgotten about the intimacy they once had,” Lioness-A said and left with Shayanya going with her.

“I don’t think it’s that serious my lady as there’s a strong bond linking Lion-O with the Lady Cynthia still,” Shayanya said. “He could be doing this just to appease an elder or something.”

“I hope that’s all it is but if it’s not, then he’s getting a piece of my mind and Cynthia may leave here for her world once we find it,” Lioness-A growled. She found Lion-O in his office and had Shayanya remain outside to keep everyone else away, including Calica as this had to be done. “What is going on with you?” Lioness-A asked her brother when she came up to his desk and glared at him. He sighed.

“I was approached by Calica’s father a few days ago,” he answered. “Most of the elders are thinking that if Cynthia’s still in the coma then it’s likely she’s not going to make a turnaround for the better and that it’s time for me to move on to find someone else to hopefully marry.”

“The healers are doing an extensive CT and MRI on Cynthia right now and will have the results hopefully soon,” Lioness-A told him. “They’ve already lowered the O2 down to two liters and she’s been fine with it.” She sighed. “If it keeps going on them lowering the O2 like that, she’ll be woken fairly soon.” She gave him a long look then. “And how do you think she would feel if she woke and didn’t see you there?” He sighed.

“Probably happier,” he muttered. Lioness-A scowled.

“You really think that?” she demanded. “If it came down to it and Cynthia recovers fully from this, she could leave and return to her homeworld and be reunited with her family and she’d never come back here. Which is sad cause how the hell would you explain the intimacy the two of you had before all of this happened?” Lion-O had no answer to give on that and the question stung, more than he realized.

“The Boktorians haven’t found her homeworld yet but they have a rough idea of where they think it is,” Lion-O finally said. He got up and went to the window. “They’re finding more and more of Cynthia’s people though and are sheltering them on Boktor till they can find it.”

“Were any of them Cynthia’s mother?” Lioness-A asked.

“Don’t know as the last report I saw said that they were getting a detailed listing of all of those people that they have. If her mother’s there, her name is flagged for them to bring her here to be reunited with Cynthia,” he said. “And more than likely, she’ll want to see her mother more than me.”

“Cynthia will want to see both her mother and you, you big idiot,” Lioness-A said as he stared at her. “Quit feeling so damn guilty for what happened and think about this a moment,” she went on. “You and Cynthia are linked by a very strong bond. I can sense it along with the other Barbaries that are here. Something is linking the two of you to the other but if you keep doing this, it could break that bond.” She looked at him a moment. “Do you want to lose that connection that the two of you had?” she asked as he froze. “Don’t answer, just think about what it is that you want and I’ll be waiting in the ICU waiting room for word on Cynthia if you want to find out what’s happening.” She left the room in a huff and it was only then that he broke down in tears, his heart aching.

.::~*~::.

Two hours later found Lion-O arriving in the medical bay ICU waiting room and he saw that Lioness-A was still there along with Amnextria, Shayanya and Oona. Lion-O had bid a fond farewell to Calica who wasn’t upset but wished the Lady Cynthia well and promised a gift for her. That had touched Lion-O but it told him that more and more of the people had grown to love Cynthia. Lioness-A saw him and came to his side.

“Any news?” he asked quietly as he found a seat on one of the sofas. She shook her head.

“Not yet as the healers are doing the MRI and they had to disconnect Cynthia from the machines to move her to the room where that’s done,” she replied.

“The good news is that she was breathing fairly well with a nasal cannula in place instead of the respirator,” Oona said. “That’s allowing her throat a chance to rest by not having the tube in place.”

“When did that happen?” Lion-O asked.

“Yesterday late,” Oona told him kindly. “It was a relief to see the respirator taken off.”

“Cynthia’s also starting to fight the sedation some,” Amnextria said. “I heard that when they came to get her to do the CT scan so they’re weaning her down on the sedatives.”

“Has she fully healed from the wounds?” Lion-O wondered. Lioness-A shrugged.

“Based on what we’re hearing I think so,” she replied. They heard a noise and Lion-O came to his feet when the bed holding Cynthia passed by them and he came to the door just as it stopped.

“We’ll have the results of the MRI and CT scans shortly,” Pumyra told him gently. Lion-O sighed as he squeezed Cynthia’s hand and was startled when her fingers moved in his. The puma smiled. “She’s fighting the sedatives which is a very good sign.” She looked at him. “Follow us to her room.” Lion-O and Lioness-A followed the puma to Cynthia’s room and watched as they got the bed set back into place. The nasal cannula remained but the heart leads were hooked back up as Siberias came in and did a check of Cynthia’s eyes with the flashlight he had.

“She’s reacting to the light as she should,” he said and noted her respiration along with the heart rate and blood pressure. “All within normal range. I’m going to go and see if those scans were reviewed yet and I’ll be back with an update.” He left as Lion-O sat down in the chair by the bed and held Cynthia’s hand. Her fingers moved briefly and lightly curled around his. Pumyra smiled as she moved the blankets out of the way and began the process of changing out the bandaging on Cynthia’s chest, revealing the scars just below her breasts. They were pink but not as raw looking and showed signs of healing.

“Those are nearly healed,” Lion-O said quietly. The puma nodded. He felt Cynthia’s fingers move. “Easy girl,” he breathed softly to her. “I’m here.” Pumyra reached up to shut the IV with the sedative off.

“Is it safe to do that?” Lioness-A asked as the puma removed the connecting tube from Cynthia’s arm.

“At this point I think so,” Pumyra replied as Siberias came back into the room. He saw Pumyra removing the IV bag of the sedative and nodded.

“Good,” he said. “The scans came back clean. Cynthia’s lungs are fully healed and seeing as how she’s breathing as well as she is, we can let her wake on her own now.”

Lion-O felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw Cynthia’s head shift before her eyes opened. He came closer to her and gently ran a finger along her cheek as her head turned toward his touch. He lightly kissed her forehead.

“Hey girl,” he whispered. Cynthia moaned as the bed was shifted allowing her to sit up. “It’s okay,” Lion-O said as he stroked her cheek gently.

“Lion-O,” Cynthia gasped weakly. Her hand came up to grasp his still on her cheek.

“Sssh,” Lion-O whispered as he slid on the bed and held her. The warmth of her in his arms, stirred his heart as he gently pressed a kiss in her hair.

[mjlovescm]

11- Cracked mirrors

Completed, 30 chapters, “Grey” Fezco O’Neill x black fem reader

Trigger warning: Mentions of abuse and Maddy being chocked by Nate.

You weren't sure what was worse, the fact that you and Rue couldn't find Gia or the fact that you missed Rue’s many calls because you were busy fogging up Fezco’s car. Regardless, right now your little sister was nowhere to be seen, not answering her phone and had to be home by ten. As if tonight wasn't eventful enough, you hadn't seen anything yet.

While Jules and Rue walked around yelling Gia's name, you hung around the rides you knew she liked and waited until the riders came out and searched for Gia. Which is how you found yourself at the carousel, watching along with many other people as Cassie rode the horse. Literally.

Fuck, you were never gonna take molly. Being her friend and just a good person, you wanted to warn her somehow, but there was no way for you to stop the ride. And if you yelled her name, you'd be taking the last bit of dignity she had by telling the others watching who she was. Not being able to watch any longer, you forced yourself to walk away and continue looking for Gia. Truthfully you had no idea where to go next, you managed to find yourself around trailer home's and porta potty. Soon you heard a familiar giggle and some type of arguing.

“Calling my mom a cunt. What the fuck is actually wrong with your fucking brains?”

It was Nate.

“I think you're overreacting.”

And Maddy. You hadn't realized what was really going on until Maddy was pushed against on the trailers with a thud and Nate’s hand was around her neck. Chocking her.

“You're fucking dead to me. Fuck you.”

It only lasted a minute, maybe even less. But you still, you stood there in horror, frozen by what you say. Incapable of moving, you felt painfully numb, unable to breath or pull yourself out of this sudden feeling of being stuck. They continued to talk, Maddy bought up the pictures that she saw on Nate’s phone. The ring of your phone pulled your mind out of this blur, and quickly you picked it up. Not wanting to be seen or heard by Maddie or Nate. It was Rue telling shed found Gia and that you all needed to leave now. Your feet started to move, and eventually you'd caught to your sisters.

The walk home was quiet. Sure, Gia and Rue talked, but you just focused your energy on walking and breathing. Ignoring, or at least trying to ignore, the replay of Maddy wheezing as Nate chocked her. It played over and over on an unstoppable loop, and it made you sick. Seeing her like that, all those things you'd been trying to repress all came to surface and the moment you were alone at home you burst into tears. Silence the sound of your sobs by crying into the teddy bear Fezco had won you just a while ago.

Now, what had happened was that morning, Maddy went to school. And Maddy’s first class was intro to Calc in room 202, which unfortunately was in the upper left wing of the school. Now, if it was a normal day, Maddy would have just take off her hoodie. But since Nate chocked her, Maddy woke up three hours early, applied more concealer than a burn victim, and tried her best to cover up. To compound the problem, she also suffered from a drop in serotonin from the Molly she took at the carnival, got depressed, and therefore hadn't had anything to eat or drink the entire weekend. Plus, she actually was on her period.

Ready to leave class in defeat, sure you bombed another calculus test, you went to wake Maddy, who you thought had just fallen asleep during the test. But just like the carnival, everything happened so fast. And soon there were paramedics and police officers, and you were being questioned by principal Hayes about your best friend's relationship.

Truthfully, you could understand where Maddy was coming from. You spent months hiding bruises with makeup and bullshit stories about being clumsy. There was a thick air of shame around it along with guilt, pity, and frustration. You didn't tell anyone what you saw, the same way you didn’t tell anyone how the same thing happened to you. It was far too complex for to explain or reason even to yourself. You just couldn’t do that to Maddy, even though it was probably the right thing to do.

Although it was hard and frankly triggering to watch Maddy be silent and defend Nate with her every breath, you stood by her. Mean mugging, all the lingering eyes that set and stared at her in school. And letting her come over after her and her parents, mostly mom argued.

She said your name in a sob. “I need to come over, like, right now.” She begged.

And a few minutes later, a distraught Maddy was moping in your bed. Still in the same close you saw her in a few days ago. Neither of you said anything because there wasn't anything to say. She’d heard enough from her parents, the people at the police station and those frankly gut-wrenching videos at school. All she needed, all she wanted, was comfort. To know that someone who she cared about was on her side. And you were. You’d always be there for her, and she had always been there for you.

“I fucking love you.” She whispers.

“I love you too.” You tell her as slow tears fall from your eyes. “I always will.”

Next chapter ;)

All chapters :)

#mjlovescm #black fem reader #fezco x reader #fezco o'neill #euphoria

[performativezippers]

I really hope you did not bail on continuing the dandelion Inn. That would break my heart a little. As long as I know you will continue/finish it eventually I can wait (very impatiently but still..).

Okay so typically I don't respond to things like this, but ignoring the last few I've gotten here and on twitter obviously hasn't worked, so here we go.

Yeah, don't do this.

You're trying to be funny, but this is a not-at-all-veiled "NEXT CHAPTER WHEN, WRITE MORE." And just...no.

You—and by "you" I mean the group of y'all that send comments like this to me and others, not this anon specifically because I don't know you—obviously mean for this to inspire me to write faster, but what this actually does is piss me off and make me work on something else. Why? Because it's not kind, it treats me like a production machine instead of a person, and it, frankly, makes you seem like an ungrateful asshole. Sorry! But true.

I find that people who write these comments typically—and I literally don't know who you are so idk in this situation—aren't the ones leaving long, detailed, enthusiastic comments on every chapter on every reread. Not the ones earnestly and consistently reblogging and retweeting and writing thoughtful commentary or even excited tags. You come off as an unengaged and ungrateful reader who will leave kudos but nothing else, and two days after I post will be saying "when is the next oneeeee" which is so frustrating.

I spend hours on these chapters. Literal hours of my life. If you want the next one so badly (and to be clear, I'm glad that you do), write me a long ass comment or ask about what you loved in the last chapter and what you're excited to see in the next. That motivates the shit out of me. That makes me happy and excited to write what's next.

This morning I woke up early with the intention of going into the office and working on Dandelion until my first meeting. But instead, I'm writing this. We all lose, basically. I am way less interested in writing it this morning than I was 30 minutes ago. And that sucks! I love writing, I love writing this fic, and I love being engaged with y'all. You just need to treat me like a person and understand that this "write faster, gimme" bs does not work. I don't know anyone this works for, so honestly, just stop it.

Next time you're desperate for another chapter of one of your favorite fics, try this: "Hey, I just reread [x fic] for the [6th] time because I'm obsessed!! My favorite part of this chapter is when [character] said [quote from fic]. I couldn't stop [laughing and my grandma thought I was dying]. Last night I couldn't sleep thinking about what will happen when [character] finds out [secret]. I'm not sure if she's going to [reaction A] or [reaction B] but mostly I just want them to KISS [IN THE RAIN]!!! I love you forever and ever, byeeeee"

And just in case this hasn't landed, here's another way to put it. If you are not in the following situation, I literally do not want to hear your thoughts on how quickly I write. If you're doing all of this, I welcome your feedback on my pace of fic output:

Drafting an original novel

Revising an original novel that is honestly your very best hope of being published and that is about to be sent to publishers

Watching as your second novel, Firefly, one of your loves, slowly dies in the hands of publishers, meaning that your agent, who you have worked with for over 2 years now, has still not made a single fucking penny off of you, and might drop you as a client

Celebrating your wife's birthday and generally spending time with her because you love her and value your relationship with her

Working on a long fic with a partner that you really care about and have a deadline for

Working a day job that is so intense and stressful you literally spent 5 hours the other weekend (on your writing day) ensuring that a student didn't do something to themself. Sorry I couldn't work on Dandelion that day, I need to make sure this person did not die.

Having a chronic, persistent, and ultimately probably terminal disease that makes you so exhausted sometimes you can't lift your head up after a work day

*insert gif I can't find of Lucy saying thanks for playing!*

Like I said, I hate doing this, I hate writing this, I hate responding to this, but ignoring hasn't worked, so here we are. Please don't make me say it again.

#ettiquette #fic comments #don't be a jerk #i am a person #let's never have to have this conversation again please

[aching-tummies]

Queasy, Milky Tummy

I've been craving chocolate milk for a while now. I finally got around to buying some on my way home from work last night. I got off work late, having had the closing shift, and I usually don't eat dinner or whatever after a closing shift. I usually go home, shower, and then go to bed.

Last night was different. I was excited about the chocolate milk and immediately poured myself a glass. The people I live with had exactly one portion of leftovers from dinner that they told me to eat or throw out because there was no room in the fridge for the container it was put in. I didn't want to waste food, so I ate that while I drank my milk.

About two hours later, I was getting ready for my shower. I bent over to retrieve my shucked clothing from the floor and I guess that was too much compression for my stomach. Instantly, a burst of something sour and burning splashed up into my throat.

I immediately took a few sips of water, trying to "wash" my esophagus of the acidic residue. The water didn't work for long and I kept on having to reach for my water bottle for another 'rinse' throughout the night. I didn't want to downright chug the water because my tummy felt pretty full-up from the combination of milk and dinner so late at night and I was worried more liquid contents would have made me feel full enough to legit puke.

I spent the whole night feeling nauseous. My poor tummy was swirling and churning all night and my mouth kept on watering. I was terrified something would come up but also didn't want to move to go find a trash bin or something because I was afraid moving would send my acidic stomach contents shooting up my throat and out everywhere. I literally just washed my sheets two days ago and I don't want to go through the trouble of washing 'em again and re-doing my bed. Not to mention the lingering smell. The milk tasted fine going down...but it'd stink to high Heaven if it made a reappearance.

I don't burp easily and I pretty much never have a large burp come out of me. It always seems to come up in pitifully tiny bursts of air rather than a big one. Every single burp last night came with a sense of dread. Every time I felt a gas pocket pushing up against my esophagus I dreaded it--'what if this one brings up more acid? My throat still burns from the last one'--happened at least 15 times in an hour where an urgent, short and pitiful puff of sour gas would gurgle up my throat and out my mouth while my stomach churned and the acid teased at my esophagus, snarling and demanding to come up and burn things outside of the mucus-y prison that was my stomach. I was terrified to even rub my stomach and try to guide the burps out because I honestly felt like rubs would churn my stomach enough to cause me to throw up.

I just woke up and it's been around 12 hours since the first acid bath of my throat. My tummy still feels bloated and queasy. Rubbing it isn't doing anything except stirring up the churning contents inside and I really, really don't want to do that. Stuff has clearly moved downward in my gut...but it still feels like it's in danger of rising up and out if things get stirred up too much. The mess has been fermenting in my guts for 12-14 hours--it'll reek once it's free of my guts...and I really, really, really don't want that smell lingering in my bedroom.

Once again, feel free to consider this an RP-Starter. What would you do with my queasy guts? Would you push me over the edge? Would you try and soothe it? Whether or not you try to rub it, punch it, or slosh it--anything done to my tummy feels like it'll cause me to throw up. Ugh...if it's going to be queasy, I really wish it'd make some noise. All the churning and none of those cute gurgles sounds like a total waste.

#RP-starter #tummy kink #upset tummy #tummy ache #emeto

[explosionofdisbelief]

today i woke up and opened instagram, like i usually do, and the first post on my feed was from the Anti-Racism Daily (@/ardtakeaction) account posting about a nightclub shooting at a queer club. in my own city. it was a shocking way to learn about the news because for one, i never think of my city as being that noteworthy to end up on national outlets, and two it was a huge gut punch of a reminder that my little bubble is very far removed from the daily realities of life in my city.

i may have a skewed perception since i've lived in colorado most of my life, but it seems that we've had more than our fair share of mass shootings. first columbine, then the movie theatre shooting in aurora, and now this one. last night's shooting hits closest to home in more ways than one. literally, since it's a short drive from where i live. and also because it was a very targeted attack against the queer community.

i have never been to the club where the attack happened, but that doesn't matter. it was a safe space for queer people, one of few, in a city that is full of conservative evangelical spaces. at one point, this city held the headquarters of over 500 religious organizations. i don't know if that's true anymore, but that is a staggering number. it's also something that, living here day-to-day, is easy to forget. it's normal to see churches on every corner and get asked at a fast food drive-thru if you have a relationship with jesus (yeah, that happened to me once). for someone who's not religious, it's a bit of a trip sometimes.

i have to admit, i forget what colorado springs looks like to outsiders. and i get frustrated that the media's portrayal of this city is a one-note story of conservative evangelicalism and extremism. even the post where i found out the news about the shooting. because yeah, while colorado turned blue when obama became president and elected the first openly gay governor, colorado springs has always been red. and i understand that is what everyone sees from the outside. but i want to give you another angle. because that's not all that this city is.

i decided after hearing the news this morning i needed to get out and not just sit around and stew in my feelings. i was upset, and i knew just sitting and scrolling wouldn't be good for me. i live downtown, which is a bit of a liberal/queer oasis in this city, and if you only know colorado springs from what you hear on the news, you would never think this was the same place.

almost all the shops downtown are locally owned and many of them, including my favorite coffee shop, have pride flags hanging in their windows all year long. (this photo is from earlier this year, but there are still flags everywhere.) i went there today, and spent about an hour reading, which is something i do often. i saw many visibly queer people come in and out, as usual. but today i was more aware of them. most people probably wouldn't guess i'm queer just by looking at me (especially here), but i do feel a kinship with queer people i see out in the wild, even if it's just one-sided.

there is a queer club downtown as well (which i went to many moons ago before i knew i was queer myself), a burlesque club that hosts drag shows, a theatre that (before the pandemic) regularly hosted interactive showings of rocky horror, and a huge park that hosts the pride festival every summer. there is probably more, but i am very much an indoor girl so i don't know half of what goes on.

after i left the coffee shop i visited the tattered cover, one of my favorite bookstores, to pick up some books i had ordered. on my way in i almost ran into a very large, intimidating looking white man. he startled me (not hard to do), but then i saw his shirt. it was a pair of hands making a heart shape with a rainbow heart inside. i almost burst into tears right in the middle of the store 🥲 (i'm very emotional today, i can't help it). it felt more meaningful today than it would other days. i don't now if he was queer or not, but it didn't matter. the fact that he made the choice to wear that shirt today, in public, was a statement of support. a loud one.

after i picked up my books, i left right away to avoid any temptation of buying more 👀 (i have a problem)

but i want to mention one of my favorite things about this tattered cover location: in their romance section, they have a special subsection for lgbtq+ romance 🥰 they know their audience and make it easy for us to find the books we want! the first time i saw it, it made me feel so welcome. it's such a small thing to do, but makes such a difference to customers like me.

on my way home, i always people-watch. i put in my earbuds so i don't have to talk to anyone. today i was listening to a queer romance, because i needed something happy. i've been on a bit of a horror kick lately, and while i love it, today was not really the day for that

i crossed paths with a queer couple on the sidewalk. two women, holding hands and laughing, cuddling close together because it's cold today and neither of them had on a coat. i couldn't help but smile because they were so absorbed in each other. and of course, i almost started crying again (i really am a mess today, guys).

because even when the worst thing happens right in our own city, when we are targeted just for daring to be who we are, queer people still aren't afraid to be loud and proud.

i know a lot of the news you see today will focus on the hatred and the evangelicals and the maga crowd and the reason this tragedy happened in the first place. and that is important. because this didn't come out of nowhere. but i just wanted to offer a few little humanizing moments of my city to remind everyone that we are more than just that. this city is more than the hate-filled people that put us on the news, even if we are in the minority. we're still here.

#colorado springs #club q #queer stuff #long post

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

So much from the Nish Kumar show last night. It was amazing. I didn’t write about it right after (aside from this post that I made before getting in the car because holy fucking hell) as it was a bit more than a two-hour drive home. I got home at 3 AM, passed out, woke up this morning and now I still feel so overwhelmed by how cool it was. Here’s the best I can do with writing about it.

There were about ten weeks between when I first saw this show, in New York City, and when I saw it last night in Montreal. I’d expected the main difference to be that he’d have to rewrite the Boris-based parts of the show he did in New York, since, you know, that situation has changed in the last ten weeks. But he actually cut that bit entirely, barely mentioned Boris or UK politics at all. I can understand why. I saw him do a livestreamed thing a couple of weeks ago, and that showed me the jokes he’s written to reflect the current mess of a political climate. They involved saying he hates Rishi Sunak for being the highly successful Asian man that his own parents wanted him to be, and saying we can’t let Rishi Sunak be prime minister because he killed everyone’s grandma via mismanagement of the pandemic. My guess is that while he expected the North Americans at his New York show to know who Boris Johnson was, he was less sure that North Americans would know about Rishi Sunak, so decided to just skip all that rather taking his “Rishi Sunak killed everyone’s grandma” material to people who might have no idea what the hell he’s talking about.

So the specific political material got cut, as did a few other things; I think he was more pressed for time at the Montreal show. There were enough jokes that were in the New York show and not in the Montreal show for me to now be sure it was worth going to New York for it, even though I could see him much closer to home ten weeks later. That 17-hour round trip to a city that I did not like was worth it just for the few jokes he put in the New York show and cut from Montreal.

He also added some stuff in Montreal that wasn’t there in New York. There were some Canada-specific jokes. Said Boris Johnson was on the verge of joining our trucker protest, which got a cheer because fuck those people. Asked how the hell that trucker thing happened and if Canada “caught” stupidity from America, which… yes. I mean that was funny but it also barely worked as a joke because it’s pretty much a literal description of what happened. Yes, Nish, we had a lot of people who were influenced by American media and specific American figures who targeted them with an onslaught of messaging and American money that funded their efforts, and that is how this happened. I could draw you a diagram if you like. People who got arrested at the trucker protests were shouting about Miranda rights and the first amendment. They think everything American applies to us. This is why it’s important to properly fund and support Canadian media like the CBC to educate Canadians on our culture instead of having everything washed away in a sea of Americanism. But I digress.

Another bit that was not in the New York show was a few minutes spent talking shit about Ed Gamble and James Acaster, which was hilarious. Earlier in the day, those two had recorded a live episode of Off Menu at that same festival (I did consider getting tickets to that, but they were quite expensive and I’ve only ever heard about three episodes of Off Menu so I figured it wouldn’t be worth it). Nish correctly surmised (I say it was correct, based on the strong audience reaction to him bringing it up) that most people in his audience had been to see the Off Menu recording earlier in the day. He complained that as a brown guy he’s out here telling us how he got PTSD from racist death threats, while his very white friends were discussing what food they like. Called them “a couple of crackers talking about crackers”, which was quite funny. Informed us that they pronounce “papadum” wrong; he was it was supposed to sound more like this, and I guess James does something of a white bastardization of it. Then he added that if anyone chooses bread over papadums they’re racist.

Now, I hope this will go without saying, but because someone reading this post doesn’t see or hear the tone that was present in the room, I’d like to clarify that it was very obvious all along that he was 100% joking. At no point did anyone think he really does resent them for that; sometimes James talks about mental breakdowns and sometimes Nish talks about watching sex scenes in movies with his dad, so just because right now James is talking about food and Nish is talking about racism doesn’t mean that defines their whole lives. The difference in levels of heaviness of their material at that specific comedy festival was just a funny juxtaposition to point out at that moment. I mean, James and Ed probably do say “papadum” wrong. But I’m sure Nish forgives them.

In case anyone in the audience did not fully understand this, Nish ended this by saying, “Of course, those two are my friends, I don’t mean it, I love those guys. I did mean the stuff about Ricky Gervais and Jimmy Carr, though.” And that brings me to a particularly interesting thing that was in this show but not the New York one. To explain, I’m going to quote something I wrote about nine weeks ago, talking about the show I saw Nish do in New York. The initial post was about the bit in Nish Kumar’s 2019 show, when he did a whole rant about how Ricky Gervais is an asshole for doing transphobia and calling it comedy. Here is something I added on to that post after seeing Nish in New York this year:

“I just saw him do his newest live show last week, and he again dedicated a couple of minutes to complaining about comedians who run out of new funny things to say so they just go on Netflix to talk shit about minorities instead. Those minutes ended with the words “Fuck you Dave Chappelle, fuck you Ricky Gervais!” (For a split second I thought Jimmy Carr’s name was going to come out of his mouth next, it’s probably for the best that it didn’t.)”

That’s what I said nine weeks ago, and that’s how I felt at the time. I sat in that theatre in New York, heard Nish say he does comedy way better than those “edgy” people who think shitting on minorities counts as comedy, saw him get really riled up and on a roll and flow right into angrily shouting, “Fuck you Dave Chapelle, fuck you Ricky Gervais!” and for a moment my brain was sure he was going to add “fuck you Jimmy Carr”. This was a little while ago, closer to when Jimmy Carr’s joke about Romani Holocaust victims was in the media (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, you can Google it, or better yet, don’t – if you’ve ever seen the whole “asshole makes a racist joke, tabloids make clickbait articles about it, asshole complains about cancel culture” storm play out, then it’s exactly what you’re picturing), so his name came into my mind when Nish described that type of comedian. I thought he might say it, but he didn’t, and on reflection, I did think “for the best” was a good way to describe the omission. No need to feed the media storm further with “Nish Kumar VISCIOUSLY SLAMS Jimmy Carr in Latest Special” tabloid headlines or whatever.

I don’t know what changed in those ten weeks. Jimmy Carr has not said any new and notably offensive stuff since then. But at some point in ten weeks, Nish Kumar decided to amend that joke. Last night, his bit about how he hates “edgy” comedians who shit on minorities on stage ended with “Fuck you Dave Chapelle, fuck you Ricky Gervais, fuck you Jimmy Carr!” He then said something about Gervis and Carr specifically, since they’re both British. He called them something like “a giggling ghost and his ventriloquist dummy friend” who are making British comedians look bad by doing this kind of shit. And he brought it up again later in the show, saying he was just kidding about his friends James and Ed, but he did mean the shit he said about Ricky Gervais and Jimmy Carr.

I would say that’s kind of a big deal. I’ve given Nish Kumar credit before for going after Ricky Gervais, since that 2019 show also has an explanation of how much he loved The Office, how he had all the episodes basically memorized, how he looked up to its creator. It’s a rule for life generally that it’s easy to call out people from the “other side”, people you didn’t like anyway, but it’s much harder to call out people who are in some way on “your side”. So I think it’s a sign of good character when someone can recognize bad things in a person they liked, and are willing to say so instead of defending or excusing it.

Jimmy Carr is another level of that. I mean, Nish Kumar was a fan of The Office, and Ricky Gervais is a fellow British comedian, but I’m pretty sure Gervais has been in America for as long as Nish has had a showbusiness career. So on a practical level, Gervais may as well be an American comedian just like Chappelle; they’re not exactly in Nish Kumar’s orbit.

Nish Kumar is much more likely to cross paths, professionally and personally, with Jimmy Carr than with Dave Chapelle or Ricky Gervais. They’re both on the British stand-up (not at comedy clubs or whatever, but they both tour the UK with stand-up shows) circuit and the British panel show circuit. Nish has done 8 Out of 10 Cats and Catsdown. Nish was hanging out with Jimmy in Katherine Ryan’s living room as of whenever they filmed the end of that Backstage show, which was not that long ago. Jimmy Carr was at this same festival in Montreal, performing his own show. That’s definitely a new level of calling out one of his own.

Obviously, the caveat I add every time I give someone credit for something like this is that there are a lot of harder jobs in the world than being a comedian, and there are a lot of braver things to do than talk shit about someone you know on stage. I’m also not pretending it helps anything on a practical level; I’m quite sure Nish Kumar would acknowledge that him saying “Fuck you Jimmy Carr” on stage does not make life better for Romani people that have their genocide trivialized. But still, it took guts to say that. I bet a bunch of people felt that way, but didn’t say so publicly because Jimmy Carr is all over the Britcom world and they didn’t want to cause problems. I’m thinking of that Last Leg episode when Hannah Gadsby was a guest and said Jimmy Carr is terrible to minorities, and Adam Hills and Alex Brooker and Josh Widdicombe all looked very uncomfortable and like they desperately wanted her to stop talking even though I’m sure they knew she was right. It’s fucking awkward to call someone an asshole if you know you work and socialize in the same area. So honestly, credit to Nish Kumar here. That took some guts to say.

Okay, bullet points for some other, quicker, fun observations about the show:

- For anyone who doesn’t know, the main show is about the time that someone threw a bread roll at him because they were mad that he was making jokes about Brexit and colonialism. Then he learned that this incident had somehow made the news, then it really blew up from there, racist death threats occurred, PTSD due to those death threats occurred, stigma about mental health issues stopped him from getting help, but then he finally sought therapy and is now doing better and wrote a show about it. It is a genuinely insightful and hard-hitting show in addition to being amazingly funny and bright and honest, and it’s one of the best pieces of comedy I’ve ever seen.

- I’d remembered the story of how after the show, his friends who were there with him, including Tim Key and Miles Jupp, took him to the pub and they got drunk. I’d forgotten how he said Tim Key made the hilarious joke of apologizing for having thrown the bread roll, pretending the whole incident was a result of Tim Key thinking it would be funny to mess with him by throwing bread. That is such an on-brand joke for Tim Key to make and was a very funny line.

- Nish Kumar telling us his job is 1) to make jokes about the news, and 2) to be a spare in case anyone loses Jason Mantzoukas – also very funny.

- In New York, he said he knows his audience consists of people who read The Guardian and people who’ve recently canceled their subscription to The Guardian because it’s insufficiently left wing. In Montreal, he did the same joke but with The New York Times instead. I can’t tell if he thinks Canadians are less likely than Americans to know about The Guardian (which doesn’t seem likely, as Americans are more stereotyped than we are as being unaware of the outside world), if he thought the joke didn’t go well enough in America and it would be better if he started changing it when he went overseas (also seems a bit weird since the joke got a big laugh when I heard it in New York). It’s okay, Nish, you can talk about The Guardian in North America. We know about The Guardian. It’s a very famous media outlet.

- I have to give Nish credit again for how passionate he was about this, how high his energy was the entire time, how much he clearly cared about the words he wrote and wanted to share them with us. A few days ago, I saw James Acaster force himself to get through a show, then look at his watch and clearly be relieved to realize he’d already done an hour and that meant he was allowed to leave the stage. He left immediately, the crowd pretty much forced him to come back for an encore, he was not happy about it and did a few more minutes before leaving.

Last night, Nish Kumar shouted at us with vigour for an hour and twenty minutes before looking at the clock, and saying oh shit, this was not supposed to go for this long. Then he continued talking for another ten minutes or so, talking faster and faster like he was worried about not having enough time to say everything he wanted to say. For the entire time he was up there, he spoke at a million words a minute, barely took a breath. You could see how much he cared about this, how much he loved what he’d written and the opportunity to say it. He was exactly the same way in New York. I loved that, it made the show so enjoyable.

I don’t mean to denigrate James Acaster there – I made that comparison to show a contrast and make the point that not every show is like Nish Kumar’s. Obviously, the contrast I’ve just described does not automatically make Nish’s show objectively better than James’. A longer show is definitely not always a better show; in fact there’s a lot to be said for tightly written efficient material (“tightly written efficient material” doesn’t really describe the shows that James Acaster or Nish Kumar brought to this festival, but the principle is still true). But in this case, the length of the show reflected Nish’s passion for the material, the way he was so dedicated to it that he didn’t want to stop talking, and that energy really enhanced the experience.

- Okay, here’s the story of what I wrote last night. I dragged my best friend to Montreal for this show. My friend is not generally into comedy, and he specifically describes himself as not liking British comedy, even though that opinion is pretty much based on how he thought Monty Python’s Holy Grail was silly and has not seen other Britcom besides a few things I’ve made him sit through at times. I convinced him to go with me, for the road trip and the day in Montreal. He did end up enjoying the Nish Kumar… mostly. I think.

Anyway, as I said, the venue was amazingly small and we were sitting in the front row. At one point, Nish talked about how everyone in the public eye gets hate, but they’ll get more if they’re more degrees away from the “default”. He then defined the “default” as white, straight, cisgender, heterosexual, able-bodied men. He said something like “And if any of those are here tonight…” Without thinking, I tapped my best friend’s shoulder, because I had in fact brought a white, straight, cisgender, heterosexual, able-bodied man to a Nish Kumar show. To be honest, he was out of place. He was a jock among nerds. As a nerd at heart who spends most of my life among jocks (due to the sports team that this friend and I have been coaching together for many years, where he is a lovely person who cares deeply for our athletes and his friends, but if you see him on the street he does look a lot like a jock), I figured he could live with that for a night.

Nish saw me tap my friend’s shoulder, and he stopped talking. He lowered his hand that had the microphone, put his other hand on his forehead and laughed. And good people of www.tumblr.com, I do not know enough words to describe what it is like to make Nish Kumar laugh. It’s like making an angel fly. That excitable laugh that comes out generously and too loudly on panel shows and podcasts when anyone on stage says something that gets to him – that got direct at me, and if I die tomorrow I want that on my tombstone. If I die in 100 years I want that on my tombstone. I’m like 30% joking.

Nish asked me if I knew the guy next to me, and I said yes. Nish said oh good, he was worried I might have just tapped a random guy next to me who appeared to fit the description of straight white cisgender able-bodied man. Eye contact occurred. Actually, eye contact occurred a bunch of times throughout the show, sometimes to an extent that was quite awkward, because like I said the venue was really weirdly small.

And at first, I did not want that to happen! At one point he asked the crowd if we knew what that 1965 audience called Bob Dylan when he plugged in his guitar, and I was sitting there thinking “Judas!” Of course I know they called him Judas, that is a famous moment in the history of the intersection of folk and rock music, a famous moment that gets pointed to when fans of folk and to a lesser extent country music argue about what’s a reasonable level of saying “this is a terrible populist bastardization of the genre” versus what is being too gatekeep-y like the 1965 people who got mad at Bob Dylan, and arguments like that are where I live. But I didn’t yell it out, because I could not bring myself to yell out words that would be heard by Nish Kumar. I did not want Nish Kumar’s attention drawn to my existence, even for a moment. But later in the show, when I tapped my friend’s shoulder without thinking and drew his attention anyway, I realized how foolish I had been to resist the opportunity. It was the coolest fucking thing. Holy hell.

Nish Kumar definitely knows I exist. Crops watered skin clear ailments cured angels in flight.

[riddlemaster101]

so i saw the tags on that post you just reblogged (about being super into fibre arts) and i… have a question, if wouldn’t mind answering? (feel free not to, ofc!)

so i am not that post - i learnt the chain stitch when i was eleven and my school had a crochet club. i’m not eleven anymore, but i’ve crocheted on and off over the years. but get this: i’ve never learnt another stitch since. i’m working on a blanket now, and… a couple months ago, i woke up in literal agony as i couldn’t move my hands at all. went to the doctor sobbing, they told me that i’d somehow managed to inflame a muscle in my elbow or smth, just because of how many hours i spent doing the same stitch over and over and over (i’m also a writer - from my phone - so like. lol. in hindsight, not the best idea…), so i’ve been kinda weary of working on the blanket for too long now—

so! what i was wondering was if a) there are any other relatively easy crochet stitches than an amateur could learn? (optionally ones that’d look nice with the chain stitch:D) and b)… how do you become that person, who knows a lot of different fibre arts and in somewhat depth? because i’d really love to do that but craft stores are so daunting, and whenever i look stuff about fibre arts, the person behind the yt video/website thinks that the reader has some sort of idea about said art and i….. do not lol, and i never know where to start.

Hey anon, great questions!

As someone who has gave herself tendinitis in both wrists from knitting too much in a week, you need to keep an eye on that injury. It took mine well over 10 months to heal and five years later I still get weakness and pains if I work them too much. So be careful with your wrists/elbows, take lots of breaks, do your physical therapy, do a bunch of warm-up stretches (or if you're like me and forget, pause every hour or so to do some). And most importantly: pay attention if anything feels like it's pulling or aching or numb or tingly. And if it does, you have to stop for the night, no acceptations, no "just one more row", you're done. Which sucks, but better than a permanent injury.

I started with knitting in college, mostly like what you're doing with crochet: same repetitive thing over and over until you're very confident with the stitch and tension on yarn, etc. For me, it really helps if you have a project you want to do that requires a new technique--I don't tend to do well with just practicing something for the sake of it, I want to make something fun! So my suggestion would be to look up a pattern (not a complicated one) that uses a new technique you want to learn and then just try it out. Worst that can happen is you rip it out and try again! This is how/why I picked up crochet after years of knitting: I wanted to make some cute little animals and it's a nightmare to knit those. But they're easy to crochet.

Also, consequently, switching fiber crafts can allow you to extend the amount of crafting you can do if your arm starts bugging you again. You just have to swap the type of motion and stress you're applying to your wrists. For months after injuring mine, I was only doing cross-stitch--the weight of the project was significantly less than, say, a blanket and moving a needle through fabric involved very different motions than knitting. I actually grew up doing embroidery, added knitting and later crochet in college and grad school, got into cross-stitch after that, and now I have a sewing machine and want to learn spinning and...oh no.

To actually answer your crochet question: I think it's pretty easy to go from a chain stitch to a single crochet stitch, and once you get that, doubles and triples are just how many more times you loop the yarn. I haven't done a whole lot of crochet--mostly making amigurumi--but these were easy enough stitches to learn and there are a whole bunch of very nice and slow youtube tutorials. Pick your fav yarn and hook size and try them out!

Hope this helps and have fun crafting!

#fiber arts #my posts

[pekuliar]

Got really sick the other day, sicker than I’ve been in AGES, and I can’t believe I never thought to note all of this down for writing reference! Still sick but less bedbound, and I’m hoping this’ll come in useful for…..something. Feel free to use my suffering to rotate your blorbos.

CW: Discussions of my worst flu day yet, and pretty shitty self care (I am a college student living alone, cut me some slack). NO emeto.

Fatigue - I genuinely can’t even remember much of what happened throughout the day, I really just lay in bed and blacked in/out periodically. I remember patches of sensations and moments I hated, but nothing cohesive. I wasn’t tired as in “man if I just slept a bit more that’ll feel good”, I was tired as in the part of my brain that let me stand up and move and do things had been cut out entirely. Lying down and phasing in and out of consciousness really was the only thing my brain knew how to do then. I never even felt genuinely hungry. The only indication I should eat was if I got MORE black-outy than usual— totally arbitrary, and something I only figured out in hindsight. Tried to order UberEats and abruptly woke up hours later, having never even pressed the “confirm order” button. Literally any small action took all my willpower.

Sore throat - so bad I basically couldn’t string together full sentences without dry-coughing or rasping. Tried gargling salt water but am such a shitty gargled that I ended up spraying salt water all over my kitchen counter.

Fever - stock-standard but shitty fever, swung between burrowing down in my blankets and kicking them off in a pool of sweat.

Headache - a persistent, pulsating ache behind my left cheekbone and left eye socket, right on the surface of the bone, that flared as I coughed

Literally. Everything. I. Put. In. My. Mouth. Tasted. Like. Petroleum. - even ESPECIALLY plain water. Even the smallest sip of water flooded my mouth with a rancid plasticky taste so awful it made my head spin. Which worked out amazingly (/s) in my favour because for a person for whom even just getting up and walking five feet to my tap, or eating sandwich, took an extraordinary amount of effort, the last thing I needed was to be further de-incentivised from eating and drinking like a human being. I spent half the day horrifically dehydrated, sort of just lying there in a daze, feeling my lips crack. At best, I ate a whole hotdog at midnight, and only because I was practically addicted to the way the dry bread and cheap sausage were the first things that day that didn’t taste like the underside of a car.

Myalgias - honestly my first clue should’ve been when a couple of days before this, the ankle I’d sprained 2 weeks ago that was already healing had started throbbing out of nowhere. Eventually this would balloon to every bone, every joint, consumed in a fiery ache. Lying down didn’t help. Getting up and moving certainly didn’t help. Really, this and the constant taste of charred plastic in my mouth was probably the worst bit of the whole ordeal.

#my writing #whump #let’s be real this was my brief poor little meow meow era #or as I like to call it - #the whump arc #sick whump #cw illness

[rainyfestivalsweets]

Last Nights meals.

Leftover sliced chicken + spicy garlic, a portion of leftover hibachi leftovers mostly noodles, slice peppers + bleu cheese yogurt dressing.

Then I got dressed super cute (for me) and went to a Thanksgiving Eve church service. This is the first time in about 10 years that I have gone to a service. It is supposed to be gay friendly, so I went to check it out. The sermon was about stewardship and conservation. Odd that this would be the church service I would be drawn to, considering most of my reading this fall has had land and conservation themes. [Taylor Brorby Boys and Oil, highly recommend, especially for LGBTQ folx & Terry Tempest Williams "An Hour of Land." Also highly recommend for nature lovers] .

I then went with my girlfriend to Walmart to buy a TV. Hers broke a couple of weeks ago. I talked to my uncle while we were at the store. I stayed while while she set up the TV, and I had 2 sparkling waters while I was there. I didn't actually get home until almost 11 o'clock - I left shortly after 5.

When I got home, mom didn't want to eat so I basically had a snack of a Chobani flip (which was nice). I was still snacky and looking for something else to eat so I had a tub of sugar free jello.

I, of course, wanted other things but I told myself "no." It was too late to eat a bigger meal.

I woke up this morning quite a bit lighter than I have been lately! Wooooooooo!

The sad part is: Just in time for the big "day of eating."

Fuck.

I will have had 3 big meals, and that's just a little bit overwhelming. That's a lot.

That is alot considering the first meal revealed that I am a nervous Eater and which back for extras on things I didn't need because I needed to keep my hands busy.

I am so obviously in need of some connection/community and I have been trying to seek it out. I am grieving the loss of yet another lgbtq massacre. I feel too, that part of my eating problem is that I am literally home 90% of the time. Most of that time is spent alone, working. Or alone, cleaning. Mom doesn't conversate much sometimes. Can't track conversations so we don't really talk about much. She doesn't hear well and she doesn't remember well, so although she is here, sometimes loneliness can be a huge eating trigger.

I feel like just being out of the house helped me and it is non food time. So I am telling myself to do more of that.

But wait, celebrate!

245 today! Woo!

Right in time for a big eating holiday. I hate being so anxious and hating the holidays so much because of it. I hate having had dieted most of the years for holidays and missing out on all the yummy food. There were days when I was low carb that my sister's boyfriend would make me loaded bacon cheesy mashed potatoes to tempt me. I didn't break, but I think it gave me a Halo Effect when eating later. [Oh, I passed on the potatoes, so I can have this...and this].

The plan:

Make a healthy dish to take

Have a protein meal within the hour before leaving

Take some tea and/or ask them to make a pot of coffee if they don't have it on

Take nomorbidity before I leave the house

Take Gluccomannon right about when I get there.

Take a little of everything I want (science says you only really taste the first 3 bites)

Try to eat slowly. Smaller bites. Fork down between?

Ask questions, conversate.

Relax and enjoy myself. This day is not going to make or break me.

Take some holiday flavored sparkling water.

#healthy lifestyle #getting healthy #losing weight #healthy eating #healthy habits #fitblr #operation lose this gut #weight loss #operationlosethisgut #weight loss journey #road to 199 #noticing weight loss #holiday weight loss #holiday plans #eating for weight loss #anxiety #holiday stress #holiday tea #holiday #today is not the day to lose track #fitbabe #not yet but i'm still trying #not yet but becoming #not eating my feelings #weight loss mindset #weight loss motivation #weight loss tips #healthy weight loss #need to lose more weight #food tracking