#making friends out of your classmates is a surreal experience for me.... I love it

[v-hope]

Tiger Lily

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, smut, established relationship, College!AU

Word Count: 11.3k

Summary: After finding out your boyfriend was the one to secretly leave flowers in your seat every week back in high school, you have many questions he’s willing to answer. And after finding out the reason the two of you had not gotten together back then was because of your ex best friend, the two of you decided that, first, you were never letting anyone else get in between you, and, second, you were making the most out of your time together from now on.

—Alternarively, the one in which you and your boyfriend finally get your place all to your own and he decides he’s not letting his nonexistent sexual experience stop him from having his way with you anymore.

Warnings: Virgin!JK (a.k.a. male virginity loss), fingering, cunnilingus, handjob (kinda), penetrative sex, protected sex, very slight (male) overstimulation, shy and confident guk keep switching places (when do they not), just very lovey dovey, very intimate.

A/N: Helloo, this is part 33 of my Social Media AU Tiger Flower, but you can still read it if you don’t follow the story. I’m actually shocked by how long this turned out to be but wbk I’m soft as hell for this couple 🥺 so please give it lots of love because I put a lot of effort in this ksñaks. I hope you guys enjoy! Oh, and also, I’m bolding the first and last sentence of the smut part, so if you don’t wanna read it just skip what’s in between the bolded words lol.

“I’ll get it” Yoongi announced when someone called on the door, leaving you and Jimin alone on the sofa as he rushed up to get it.

As soon as he opened it and Jeongguk stepped inside your shared place, bowing politely to your friends before his stare fell on you, you felt your heart race. Saying nothing, you gave him a closed mouth smile, having him do the same at the sight of yours. Although it hadn’t been longer than a week, it had been the longest you had gone without seeing each other ever since you became friends, and, even though you weren’t really showing it right then —as for some reason you were nervous as hell to see each other again—, it was unbelievable how happy you were at the mere sight of one another.

“We were just leaving” Yoongi informed, catching up on what was going on. After all, you had told both him and Jimin that your boyfriend would be coming over to talk things out.

“We were?” Jimin asked with furrowed eyebrows. “I just got home”.

“Let’s give them some privacy” he tilted his head towards the opened door so Jimin would tag along.

“I can go to my room for that”.

“Yah! We all know your nosy ass will eavesdrop everything that way” Yoongi called him out, and you didn’t miss the way Jeongguk had to lower his head not to show his amused smile, being already used to your roommates’ endless bickering antics by now. “Come on, let’s go see Jin hyung at his pub”.

Simple as that, Jimin left your side in a heartbeat to go to the door. “Well, I won’t say no to drinking” he admitted, stopping right in front of Jeongguk and pointing an accusing finger at him. “Take care of my baby”.

“My baby” Guk corrected him, mumbling his words low enough for you not to hear.

Although, unlike you, Jimin did hear —for that had been your boyfriend’s intention—, he said nothing, instead glaring at him the way he always did whenever that discussion over you took place at least twice a week, and walking out of the apartment for once and for all. Yoongi, on the other hand, gave the two of you a small thumbs up before following behind his friend.

And just like that, with the sound of the door closing, silence was quick to take over the room.

This was probably the first time ever since you met that neither of you knew what to say. Fuck, this was probably the first time in your life you didn’t know how to start a conversation. And it wasn’t like you could go over there and kiss him like you were dying to, could you? You had not completely made up yet. That’s what he was here for after all. To talk, not to make out. Although you weren’t really against that idea, and he most definitely was not either — the way his eyes fixed on your lips even all the way over from the door was enough to tell you so.

It had been a good couple of days since you had last seen each other after all.

“You, uh…” your voice came out quite unsteady as you stood up, fixing the plain t-shirt and cotton pyjama pants you were wearing. “Are you hungry?” you asked, walking towards the kitchen and having him quietly follow right behind as you entered it. “Wanna eat something? Drink something?”

He shook his head no when you turned around to look at him, resting your hands on the counter as you leaned against it. “Just wanna clear up your questions”.

You nodded, for that was what he was here for after all, to clear everything up so the two of you could go back to normal. So you could go back to being the happy couple you both loved so much.

“So what are they?” he pushed it when you stood there with no signs of wanting to speak any time soon.

“I just…” you shrugged, making yourself comfortable by sitting at the edge of the counter. “Why didn’t you tell me before that you were the one sending me flowers back then?”

He pouted in confusion as he came closer to you. “When?”

“When we were friends…”

“It would’ve been out of place back then, petal” he explained. “We were just friends and you were into someone else. It would’ve been awkward for us and I really didn’t wanna lose you as my friend” his voice couldn’t help but come out rather bitterly at that, remembering all the thoughts that had invaded his mind when he first saw his chance to let you know it had been him all along, all the thoughts that kept him back from telling you.

“And when we started dating?” you tilted your head. “You had so many chances to tell me, Guk…”

“When we started dating I just didn’t think it mattered anymore” he confessed, unconsciously resting his hands on your knees. “I had you, I really didn’t care about it anymore”.

“You could’ve still told me…”

“And how was I supposed to bring it up? It’s not something I can just say out of nowhere” he pointed out, having you nodding understandingly. “And what was I supposed to say anyway? Hey there, I’m your flower boy?”

A light laugh escaped his mouth when you playfully shoved him away at his words, mocking what you had once told him was the confession you had been expecting from your secret admirer. Holding your hands, he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, and hence, closer to him. Taking advantage of that, you intertwined your fingers, enjoying the familiar warmth of his hands as you admired the way he softly swayed them together.

“This is so surreal” you sighed.

“In a good or a bad way?”

You shook your head, not being able to give him a proper answer. “I just… I always wanted it to be you so bad, and for a good while I was sure it was you, but it made sense that you were into Sooyeon instead”.

Jeongguk furrowed his eyebrows, the mere thought of ever feeling something for her making him want to gawk. “How could that have ever made sense?”

“She was more like you” you pointed out, rushing to make your point before he could snap at you for comparing the two of them. “Like, yes, she was popular and had lots of friends, but she was the most quiet out of all of us. Believe it or not, she was really shy back then, an—”

“And why would I have wanted more of the same?”

“Huh?” you were taken aback by his question.

“You’re saying she was like me, then I don’t understand why would I have wanted to be with her” he said as if it was obvious.  “If I barely ever speak and so did she… I mean, how would that have even worked out?”

You shrugged, not being able to help the small smile that had started curving up your lips. “Is that why you fall for loud asses like me? So someone else will make up for your lack of talking?”

He chuckled at the teasing tone in your voice, allowing his hands to travel up to your thighs and tenderly drawing circles on them with his thumbs. “Not really” your eyebrows knitted together at his words. “There were a lot of loud girls who would not shut up to save their lives in our class and I didn’t really like them. If anything, they annoyed the hell out of me”.

“Why’d you even want to be with me then?” you wondered, being genuinely curious as to what about your loud, chatty antics, made you different to the rest of your loud classmates.

“You really don’t know why I’ve always liked you?”

You shook your head no. “Why is it?”

Taking in a deep breath, he took a step back so he could collect his thoughts before answering your question. “I don’t think you even remember when I just transferred to our high school in the second year, let alone my first day there. Mrs. Kang made me sit on the empty table next to yours and then proceeded to pass around a surprise test, and me being me, of course I forgot my pencil case at home that day,” he huffed, causing you to chuckle under your breath. “So I just sat there internally freaking out because I couldn’t bring myself to ask anyone for a pen, like I couldn’t move and my voice literally wouldn’t come out no matter how hard I tried” a breathy laugh abandoned his lips. “And I was accepting the idea of turning in a blank paper when suddenly a pen was placed on my table. So my eyes followed your hand back to your table and there you were with your eyes stuck to the test, solving the math problems like you had not just saved me from failing on my very first day as the new kid,” you laughed at his dramatism, however, you managed to remember about that moment. “And then as soon as the class ended you were surrounded by people and you were all talking nonstop and I didn’t know how to give you your pen back, so I tried to slide it into your table but you caught me and told me I could keep it, that it was a ‘welcome present’, and then you smiled at me and honestly that was it for me, Y/N”.

“It was?” you wondered in awe, eyes shining when he nodded.

“I didn’t like loud and popular people up until then, which is kinda weird considering Tae’s my best friend” a throaty laugh escaped your lips at his remark. “But although you were those things, you always got me. You just… understood, in a way. Like, you didn’t pressure me to talk or made me feel bad for not doing so, like the rest of the popular kids did. If anything, you would try to make me feel like I wasn’t all on my own whilst leaving me alone like I wanted” he tilted his head, wondering if what he just said had made any sense, knowing you understood his point when you smiled ever so sweetly. “Like when you added me to your group project one time and let me send my part instead of having to go hang out with you and your friends for an entire afternoon, or when you would invite me to your birthdays along with the rest of the class and then proceeded to tell me not to feel pressured to go if I didn’t feel like it. And even now, ever since the beginning you made me feel good about not really being into partying and barely ever talking”.

“You’ve been more talkative with me lately, though” you pointed out as you mindlessly played with the hair at the back of his head. “Although this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk”.

He chuckled, playfully pinching your thighs. “Don’t get used to it”.

“I won’t, I won’t” you chuckled, planting a chaste kiss to his chest. “Anyway, you said I get you but I didn’t let you do your part of the project on your own this year, though” you reminded him with a feigned pout that he couldn’t help but find the cutest. “And I force you to spend time with me pretty much everyday now. Will you forgive me?”

Jeongguk let out a throaty laugh, leaning in just enough for his lips to press to your cheek. “I got to date you now thanks to that, so you’re forgiven” he planted another kiss to the curved up corner of your smiling mouth. “And funny how you think you’re forcing me when half the time it’s me asking to hang out”.

You giggled. “We love a 50/50 relationship”.

Tilting your head ever so slightly to take a better look at him after hearing him chuckle, you were greatly surprised by his lips pressing down on yours.

Although you had jokingly said that last sentence, it was not far from the truth at all. It wasn’t just you chasing after him and wanting to be with him all the time, but him wanting the exact same all the same. So you could tell by the way he was kissing you right then. It was slow, painfully slow, yet the way his hands were firmly cupping your face to keep you from moving away as he deepened the kiss, could not fail to tell you just how much he had missed you, needed you, those past few days you were apart.

Pressing one small peck to his mouth, you tugged at the fabric of his sweatshirt to pull him closer to your body, later wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and resting your face on his chest — a content sigh escaping your mouth when his arms did the same with you and his lips kissed the crown of your head.

“It really never would’ve crossed my mind that you liked me way before the whole flowers thing...”

“Not even when that one summer we would keep running into each other at the park and you would catch me staring from time to time?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

The heat didn’t wait to reach your cheeks at that. You remembered that very well, for it was the summer you caught feelings for him as well, the one right before you entered your last year of high school. You would go out for walks on your own just for the sake of doing something other than staying in texting your friends all day long, and would run into him most of the time while he walked his dog, the one you now knew was named Gold.

Although you had talked in class more than once —or well, you had talked to him more than once—, you were not friends, and hence, neither of you got the guts to come close to one another to try and start small talk. However, that didn’t stop either of you from staring at each other when you were not looking. Sometimes you would catch each other staring, though, and you couldn’t stop an amused smile from curving up your lips when you remembered one particular time he had choked on air when you smiled at him after catching his eyes being fixed on you, just like he had choked earlier this year when you had asked him if you could sit next to him in class. It seemed to be a habit of his by now, at least when it came to you.

“I thought you were just judging me over the way I was always sniffing the flowers and taking pictures of them…” you admitted, for although a part of you did want to believe he was into you back then, you couldn’t really bring yourself to fully believe it.

He pulled you back by your shoulders so he could give you a questioning look. “Judging you with heart eyes?”

“Yah!” you called him out, feeling your cheeks burn.

Jeongguk laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “I really just couldn’t take my eyes away from you, you looked so hypnotized by them and it was the cutest to me”.

“Is that why you thought about secretly giving me flowers?” you couldn’t help but ask.

He nodded, lowering his head. “I know it would’ve been easier to just talk to you, but I really couldn’t bring myself to do it. Fuck, I even was a nervous wreck this year when you first talked to me,” a breathy laugh escaped his mouth. “So I just… thought I could do that for a while until I got the guts to confess. Although I guess a part of me really wanted you to find out, because whilst looking for different kinds flowers I came across tiger lilies and, apart from finding out they were my birth flower, their meaning just fit so well with what I wanted to do and I just—”

“What do they mean?” you asked.

“It’s cheesy” he let you know with pleading eyes, silently asking you not to make him say it out loud. “Like, really cheesy”.

“Come on,” you begged with pouty lips, getting a hold of his hands. “I’ll look it up on the internet either way if you don’t tell me”.

He shook his head in both amusement and embarrassment altogether, knowing well enough you would do just that if he did not comply right then. So, biting down on his bottom lip, he said: “Please, love me”.

Your eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. “Huh?”

“They mean ‘please, love me’” he clarified at the sight of your puzzled face, and your heart skipped a beat as you froze in your place. “I told you it was cheesy”.

“No, no, it’s not that. I just… is that what…” you pressed your lips together as you tried to compose yourself. “Did you… do you mean that?” it was now his turn to look confused, tilting his head to the side because of it. “You want me to love you?”

And although to you it seemed like a complicated question to answer, to him, on the other hand, it wasn’t. So, nodding his head immediately, he let you know that was exactly what he wanted.

“Back then, even when we were teenagers and barely ever talked, and I knew nothing about love, I was convinced I was in love with you… even if I knew it was one sided. And now that I got to be your friend and then your boyfriend, I…” he took in a deep breath, staring down to your hands in his before his eyes went back to yours. “I know more than ever that I love you. I love you so much, Y/N. And I know loving someone takes time, and I don’t want to push you or rush you at all, but if you could just try and find it in you to love me back someday, I—”

The small chuckle that abandoned your lips caused his mouth to shut close in an instant, not understanding what was so funny about his words and for a split second there feeling uneasy. However, all his worries went away when you cupped his face in your hands, staring at his lips for a brief second before your eyes went up to fix on his.

“I already love you, you dummy”.

Not giving him time to process your truthful words, if anything, knowing it would take him a while to do so, you leaned in to steal a small kiss from his lips, pecking them ever so tenderly a couple of times until he smiled, finally understanding the meaning of your words and placing his hands on the back of your neck to keep you from pulling away as he sucked on your bottom lip.

“Say it again?” he pleaded in between kisses, not being able to erase the huge smile on his face.

You chuckled teasingly. “Nope”.

“Yah,” he let go fully of your mouth. “You’re always speaking nonstop and now that I for once ask you to say something, you won’t?”

“Exactly” you smiled brightly, giggling when he squinted his eyes at you and leaning in to peck his mouth a couple more times. “I love you, bun” you cooed, being done with your teasing way earlier than you had planned to.

And it was the way you loved him back, along with the way you had gone back to call him that pet name he was the softest about, what had him giving you one of those bunny smiles of his that made you come up with that name to begin with.

“You won’t say it back?” you wondered, batting your lashes for him to take a hint.

Nevertheless, he shook his head no. “I already said it twice, we’re even”.

“Yah!” you lightly shoved him off, only to have him standing right back in between your legs like he had been during your entire conversation. “Jeongguk-ah~”

“Yes, baby?” he played innocent.

“Tell me you love me” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest.

Letting out a light laugh, he cupped your face and gave your mouth a chaste kiss. “I love you, petal”.

You smiled sweetly, allowing him to plant a few more kisses on your mouth before you pressed your lips to the spot under his jawline, resting your face on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you once more.

“You should’ve confessed back then” you lamented, looking up to his face yet only being met by the sight of his chin. “Why didn’t you?”

He sighed, resting his chin on the top of your head and tightening the hold of his arms around your waist.

There it was, the most important question out of them all. The one he had came here to talk about, yet he had completely forgotten about as he had gotten caught up on making up with you instead. And now that things were finally good between you two, he couldn’t help but fear bringing up said person and what she had done would make things worse all over again.

“I was going to” he let you know. “That was the plan all along”.

Your eyebrows knitted together, sitting up so you could fix your questioning eyes on his troubled expression. “Then why didn’t you?” you repeated your previous question.

He sighed heavily, causing your body to tense up, as you knew right then you wouldn’t like what he was about to tell you. “Sooyeon…”

“What?” you pushed it when he stopped right after mentioning her name. “What did she do?!”

He bit the inside of his cheek. Although he had found out about everything a few days ago and had gotten some time to come to terms with it, it still hurt just as much. All the lost time and what it could have been, all the possibilities that could’ve come with having been with you as a couple ever since your last year of high school, still made his blood boil.

“She found out I was your flower boy one morning and she told me I was wasting my time…”

“What?!” your loud tone was a mix of both worry and anger. “Jeongguk, what did she tell you?”

He shrugged, a weak smile curving up his lips. “Does it matter anymore?”

“Of course it does” you argued. “It does to me”.

Letting out another sigh, knowing well enough he could not avoid this anymore, as you deserved to know the whole story just like he did, he grabbed your hands and gently held them in his — partially wanting to let you know it was alright, partially wanting to feel like it was alright. “She said you had told her you hoped it wasn’t me because you would have to give me a chance out of pity,” the look in your eyes right then made his heart hurt. “Because I was not popular, and I barely ever talked, so you would always be bored around me yet would have to pretend like you were not…”

“Bun, I never said that. I neve—”

“I know” he cut you off before you could freak out completely. “Petal, I know that now”.

“No, but she lied!” you raised your voice for him to hear you out. “I’m never bored around you, you know that, right? And the few times we got to talk back then I was never bored either, I…”

“Baby, I know…” he soothed you, cupping your face and pressing his forehead on yours. “I know. It’s okay”.

“Guk, I had feelings for you back then” you confessed, feeling your voice break.

He took in a shaky breath. Somehow, hearing that coming from you had hurt more than finding out from someone else like he had a few days ago. “It’s okay”.

And it was. It really was. You were together now. Somehow, you had managed to find your way back to each other years later and didn’t have to know what your lives were like without each other. However, the fact that it was alright, it didn’t mean it did not hurt. Because it did hurt. Thinking you could’ve been together ever since three years ago. How you wouldn’t have dated that asshole who broke your heart, and how he wouldn’t have gone three years of his life believing he was not enough. All of that, was not something the two of you could easily let go of.

“So all this time... you really believed I had said that about you? Even when we were friends, when we became a couple…” your voice sounded more broken by the second. “You let me back into your life even when I had supposedly said all those things back then?”

“Call me delusional, but I still really wanted to be close to you” he sheepishly admitted. That’s how he knew he would always have a soft spot for you, no matter what. “And anyway, baby, in my mind that was the high school you. You didn’t seem like the person who said those things back then at all when I got to actually meet you” he reassured you, then bitterly adding: “Now I can see why”.

You breathed uneasily. “You’re too good to me…”

“Yah, Y/N” he called you out immediately. “I told you, we’re not doing this”.

“But I really don’t deserve y—”

Your words were cut off by his lips softly pressing down on yours. Just like you would always call him out whenever he thought less of himself, hating it when he did that, he, too, hated hearing you say stuff like that about yourself.

“It doesn’t matter anymore” he whispered against your lips.

“Yes, it does…” you pouted. “She lied to both of us and we believed her. We could’ve been together ever since...”

“I know…”

“Three years, Guk. We lost three fucking years” you reminded him. “What if I hadn’t asked you to be my partner in the project this year, I mean, I wouldn’t even have you in my life and all because of her”.

“I know” he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his words this time. Because he knew very well what you were feeling, for he had felt the exact same a few days ago. “But can we just… forget about it?”  

“No, I want to beat the shit out of her” your determined, poisonous tone, could do no other than earn a loud giggle from him.

“Do that later?” he pressed his lips to the crook of your neck. “She already took enough time away from us, let’s not let her get in between us anymore. We’re making up now, it’s just us two...”

It was now your turn to giggle, relaxing under his loving touch and nodding your head in agreement before you leaned in to briefly press your mouth to his jaw. “We’ll just have to catch up on all those lost years then”.

He laughed under his breath, cupping your face once more as he leaned in just enough for his lips to faintly brush yours. “I guess we’ll just have to do that”.

Enjoying the sound of that, you puckered your lips up right as his soft ones came in contact with them, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck so you could deepen the kiss. Humming contentedly when his tongue made its way inside your mouth, you felt his hands let go of your face and wander down your back, holding onto your hips to bring you even closer to the edge of the kitchen counter, at which you reacted by wrapping your legs around his hips to help him create the friction between your bodies he was asking for.

You found yourself letting go of his neck to dig your hands inside his sweatshirt instead, smiling coyly at the way you felt goosebumps form on his skin. You had discovered not long ago he was quite ticklish on his sides, and you absolutely loved faintly running your hands along them just to get that reaction out of him.

He breathed heavily when your fingertips made their way up his abs, letting his hands go down lower from their current spot on your back and placing them on your ass instead, giving it a light squeeze as he took advantage on said action to grind his hips against your center.

“Mm…” you let out quietly, finding out just then how much you had missed feeling him close like that.

“You think they’ll be home soon?” he asked, referring to your two chaotic friends, as he peppered a trail of kisses down to your neck.

“They must be just getting started on drinking” you let him know, a smile curving up your lips at the sensation of his wet ones sucking on your skin. “Why? You got something in mind?”

The chuckle that left his mouth tickled your skin, feeling one last kiss being placed on it before his lips were briefly back on yours. “Only if you’re up for it”.

Your lips parted in a bright smile, without another word, shoving him lightly out of the way so you could place your feet on the ground — gently taking his hand in yours and having his adoring eyes stuck to you as you guided him over to your room.

Once inside, and as you let go of his hold so you could turn around to lock the door just in case your friends decided to come home earlier than expected, his eyes fell on the multiple tiger lilies he had left on your seat over the last two days, along with the bouquet of flowers he had sent over to your place earlier that day, all of them carefully lying on your desk by one side of the bed. Smiling at the fact that you had kept them all —as he had been worried you would’ve thrown them away when he first sent them—, he turned around towards you right as you were done with the door, cupping your face immediately and bringing his lips to meet yours in a quite needy kiss.

Walking you backwards towards the bed as he refused to break the hot contact between your mouths, he helped you lie down on it as he crawled over your figure, parting your legs open with his knee so he could lie in between them — a light laugh of his resonating against your mouth when your hands were back into his sweatshirt and the trace of your fingertips tickled his sides.

Wanting more of you as well, he found himself digging his hands inside your t-shirt just like he had grown fond of ever since that one time in his room, letting them make their way up to your breasts so he could tease them a little bit. Only, this time, he was met not by the thin fabric of your bra, but with your soft skin instead — feeling your nipples instantly harden at his sudden touch as a small hum abandoned your lips.

Not being able to hide his —very pleasant— surprise, he withdrew his lips from yours; wide eyes staring at you before they travelled down to your still covered breasts.

At his quite cute reaction, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle. “I’m wearing pyjamas, is it really that surprising?”

It shouldn’t be. He knew that very well, considering you had not once worn a bra whenever you slept over at each other’s. However, being so caught up in the moment, he had seemed to forget about that altogether.

Deciding to say nothing, he leaned down instead to trap your bottom lip in between his again, sucking lightly on it as his hands squeezed your breasts in such a way that left you wanting more in a heartbeat.

“Mm… fuck” you moaned ever so quietly when one of his thumbs teased your nipple.

Smiling at your reaction, he moved his kisses all the way down from your mouth to your collarbone, feeling your chest heavily move up and down when his mouth came close to it. Firmly placing his hands on the curve under your breasts, he lifted your body up with ease to adjust you up enough on the mattress so that your still covered breasts were now right under his face.

Not giving you a second to process what had just happened, he lowered his face to your chest, pressing open mouth kisses on the fabric that was still covering it, and getting another moan out of you when his hand went back to teasing one of your breasts under your t-shirt, while his hot mouth sucked on your other one over it.

“Guk, fuck” you gasped, feeling goosebumps form on your skin when his lips travelled down to your bellybutton and his hands abandoned your chest to tug at the end of your top instead.

Biting down on his lip, he glanced up to you before doing anything else. “Is it okay if I?”

Although his question had been left incomplete, you answered him with an eager nod of your head, wanting nothing but to feel his wet mouth on your sensitive buds already.

Tongue wetting his lips in anticipation, he lifted your t-shirt over your chest — leaving it still on yet completely exposing you to his eyes. And it was the way his eyes fixed on your naked chest like the world had just stopped, what managed to make you nervous enough to bring your arms up to cover them.

“I would’ve worn something hotter for you to look at if I had known this was going to happen” you couldn’t help but joke your way out of it.

Jeongguk laughed lightly, leaning down to peck your neck a couple of times, trying to ease your sudden nervousness. “I don’t think anything could ever top this”.

Because although he was sure getting to see you in lingerie would be one hell of a sight, he loved this view the most. He loved looking at you, with absolutely nothing on the way of your body and his eyes.

And just like that, his teasing yet genuine words were the last push you needed to relax under both his touch and stare, allowing him to gently grab your wrists and remove your arms from off your chest. Receiving a small nod from you when his questioning eyes fixed on yours for a second, he planted two short kisses to your mouth before they were back on your chest.

Your back curved up with the first lap of his tongue on one of your nipples, feeling your breathing become heavier when his lips wrapped around it without any kind of warning.

“Jeongguk…” you moaned in what sounded like a plea.

Wanting to hear more of his name coming out as one of your pretty moans, he swirled his tongue harder around your bud, right as his thumb teased the one he had left unattended until then - not many seconds going by before he moved his mouth over to it so he could tease it as well.

“Fuck,” you gasped when his mouth sucked on your skin. “Jeongguk”.

Catching on the way you had pushed your hips slightly up to try and get some friction out of his already hardened length, he found himself giving you one slow thrust that had you both moaning whilst wanting more. Instead of grinding on you again, however, he let go of your breast and let his hand wander down to your pants instead, palming your already wet core through them before he fidgeted with their waistband.

“Please,” you begged.

“Hm?” he hummed against your jaw, as he placed a sweet kiss to it before going to your lips.

“Your fingers” you managed to blurt out, feeling like you were losing your mind over the way his long fingers were now teasingly digging inside your pants. “Jeongguk, please”.

Although he found out right then that he  loved hearing you beg, he wanted the most to make you feel good, which is why he was quick to comply with your wishes. Palming you now over your damp panties, he felt your body shake at the contact — a gasp escaping your mouth when his fingers made the fabric aside and they started rubbing circle motions on your folds.

You felt warmer and way more wet than he had expected, and he felt the sudden urge to run his tongue along your folds to get a taste of your arousal. However, right then, he knew what you wanted, what you needed, were his fingers inside of you. So, he did just that.

“Ah, fuck” you threw your head harder against the mattress when one of his fingers made its way into you.

“You’re so tight...” he breathed out in amazement, feeling himself get harder at the thought of what it would be like to feel your walls tightening around his cock instead.

Slowly shifting his finger inside your responsive walls, he focused on taking in your facial expressions to try and figure out what pace you liked the most — sticking with a faster one after one particular moan had escaped your lips right after he speeded up his pistoning motions.

“Like that?” he asked nevertheless, planting a lingering kiss to your chest.

“Yes” you managed to blurt out, grinding your hips against his finger, being desperate for more.

Catching up on that, he added another digit, hissing at the way your walls had seemed to tighten even more around them. Opening and closing his fingers in scissoring motions as he tried to stretch you out so he could move around with ease, he felt your breathing become heavier by the second, letting out a choked moan when he experimented by curling his digits against your walls.

“Oh, fuck” you whimpered when he curled them once more, managing to hit with them that one spot that could make you come undone in a matter of minutes.

“Feels good?” he asked, admiring your factions as you were too immersed in your own pleasure to remember how to speak.

“Mhm…” you answered with a simple sound instead, mewling when his motions sped up their pace. “So good”.

“Fuck,” he blurted when he felt your juices running down your slit. “Baby, you’re dripping”.

“Jeongguk, don’t stop” you begged when you felt his fingers no longer moving inside of you, desperately grabbing his wrist when you felt them start to pull out. “Don’t stop”.

He reassured you with an intoxicating kiss that made you dizzy. “I wanna eat you out”.

Your breath hitched at his low words, feeling your walls tighten when you opened your eyes to meet his hungry ones. And you didn’t have to even think before you were nodding your head. You needed him, that was all you knew. No matter if it were his fingers, his mouth or his cock, you were desperate for him right then, and would let him have you however he wanted.

Kissing your lips one more time, he felt you whimper against his mouth when his fingers pulled out of you, causing you to close your legs as you tried to replace the way they felt with the friction your thighs could provide you with. It didn’t last long, though, for Jeongguk was quick to pull them open once more so he could remove your pyjama pants along with your panties, licking his lips in anticipation at the perfect sight he got of your dripping folds.

“Fuck, you’re so hot” he rasped, causing your cheeks to burn and another whimper escape your mouth when his thumb brushed faintly over your clit.

“Jeongguk, please” begging seemed to be your only way of communication that night, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the hell out of it.

Pulling you closer to him, he placed your thighs over his shoulders before he finally brought his face up to your heat. Worrying for a split second there, as he was not entirely sure as to what was the right way to do this, he decided to go with his instinct —just like he had done seconds ago when his fingers were inside of you— and begin by slowly sliding his tongue through your folds. The way your body had trembled and a moan of yours had reached his ears as soon as he did, let him know he was doing well.

Delving his tongue in your slit, you instinctively reacted by pulling your hips slightly away from him at the pleasure his ministrations were giving you, and Jeongguk didn’t hesitate before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to his mouth once more, sucking on your wet heat before he pushed his tongue inside.

“Oh, God” you whimpered when he started fucking you with his tongue. “J-Jeongguk, yes”.

Moaning loudly when he pushed a finger back into you, you grabbed onto one of your breasts with one hand, as your other one travelled down to entangle your fingers in his already messy hair, earning a muffled moan from him when you pulled lightly at it.

Curling his finger inside you the way he had found out drove you crazy, his mouth let go of your heat, planting a small kiss on it before he licked his way up your folds and stopped by your clit. Although he was not experienced in all this at all, he did know stimulating that small button of yours could work wonders, and he was willing to give it a try. The second he swirled his tongue around it and you cried out in pleasure, he knew it wouldn’t take much longer before you reached your climax if he kept applying pressure on that particular spot.

Tightening his hold on one of your thighs to keep you from moving away as your body writhed beneath him, he added a second finger inside you, sucking on your clit before his tongue came in contact with it again.

“Mm—ah, Jeongguk. Fuck” you cried incoherently, curling your toes as you felt your climax getting closer. “Fuck, d-don’t stop”.

Feeling your walls tighten around his fingers, he could tell as well that you were close. Pushing his digits deeper into you, he managed to hit once more that one spot you needed him the most.

“Right there” you let him know, curving your back when he followed your words and his fingers brushed over it once more. “Oh, righ—fuck!” you whimpered.

“Let go, baby” he rasped, replacing his mouth on your clit with his thumb and pressing down on it in circle motions. “Cum for me”.

The mere sound of that, along with the way his mouth had came in contact with your folds as his fingers kept fucking into you, were all you needed to finally come undone under his touch, crying out his name one last time as his fingers helped you ride out your orgasm.

Closing your eyes and letting the aftershocks take over your body, you moaned lightly at the feel of your boyfriend’s tongue running along your slit, tasting the juices that were dripping down on it and licking you clean before he made his way back next to you, hovering over your figure and kissing you hungrily yet somehow gently. One of his thumbs caressed your hip as his other one came in contact with your chin, drawing circular motions on your skin as you kissed him back — eyes still closed as you felt your body finally steadying.

“Was that alright?” he asked, planting a lingering kiss to your mouth.

Opening your eyes, you looked at him with disbelief written all over them. “It was amazing” you reassured him with a smile nevertheless, allowing his mouth to come in contact with yours once more.

Pulling him closer by wrapping one arm around his neck, you felt something hard poke one of your sides, causing you to undo the kiss and stare down to the outline of his hardened member against the loose fabric of his pants.

“Want me to help you with that again?” you teasingly raised one of your eyebrows, earning a small lip bite from him at the memories of how good you had made him feel not too long ago.

Although it took him a second, he nodded his head. A smile curved up the corners of your lips at that, only for it to be replaced with a frown when his hand stopped you from reaching for his cock.

“Not like that” he shook his head.

You pouted in confusion. “Then how…”

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he leaned down to brush his mouth with yours. “I want to fuck you”.

You felt a wave of heat hit your body at his words, for although he had just seen and touched pretty much all of you, and you had just offered to suck him off, you had thought that would be as far as you’d get, just like that one time in his room when it had led to nothing else.

“W-What?” your voice betrayed you by stuttering a bit.

“I want to fuck you” he repeated, sounding just as determined as he had before. “You don’t want to?”

“No, I want to!” you were quick to clarify. Fuck, you wanted to. “It’s just… You sure you want this? With me?”

“I’ve wanted to have you like this for so long, Y/N. I could not be any more sure” his words sent shivers up your spine. “Besides, sorry to remind you, petal, but you are my girlfriend, so…”

“That I am, huh?” you played along, pulling him down by the neck of his sweatshirt so your lips could meet his. “Then I guess I’ll be good to you tonight and let you have your way with me”.

Smiling contentedly at your words, he wasted no time in crashing his mouth on yours, burying one of his hands under your t-shirt to give one of your breasts a tight squeeze before he tugged at the end of the fabric — eyebrows furrowing slightly and puzzled eyes opening when you held your top down by pressing your arms to your sides, not allowing him to pull it up so he could take it off.

“Wha—”

“It’s unfair you’re about to leave me naked while you’re still fully dressed, don’t you think?” you pointed out with pouty lips.

Rolling his eyes in amusement, he sat up on the mattress so he could take his sweatshirt off, being followed by you right after, as you helped him get rid of it with a smile on your face. Now, you had seen him shirtless once, when you were having food in his room one evening and he stained his t-shirt with soda, proceeding to change into another one right in front of you, but you had seen little to nothing of his torso, as he had turned almost fully around as he did so. And hence now, you could not hide the hungry look on your face as you stared at his toned chest.

“My eyes are up here” he teased you with an amused smile, causing you to send a playful glare his way.

“You didn’t exactly look into my eyes either when you pulled my t-shirt up, so…”

He chuckled at your snarky remark, leaning in to connect his mouth with yours and then tugging once more at the end of your top, just like he had done a minute before. This time, however, you pulled your arms up, letting go of his mouth so he could get rid of that one last piece of clothing of yours that was bothering him so much.

Not wasting any more time, you helped him out of the rest of his clothes as well, giggling against his lips when they needingly crashed on yours once more, with one swift movement lying you down on the mattress as your curious, wandering hands became familiar with each other’s bodies.

A raspy moan escaped Jeongguk’s throat when your hand stroked his member, being followed by a choked one when you tightly wrapped your hand around it, gently moving it up and down his length.

“Fuck, Y/N” he breathed heavily, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he unconsciously thrusted into your hand. “I need you”.

You smiled at the sound of his begging words, leaving a small kiss on his naked shoulder before you released his member from your hold and pushed him on his back, letting him adjust into a more comfortable position as he rested his back against the headboard, before you sunk your knees down on the mattress on each side of his lap — his hands immediately resting on the curve of your waist and a shaky breath coming out of his mouth at the feel of your wet core rubbing ever so faintly against his cock.

“You sure you want this?” you asked.

He eagerly nodded his head, pulling you back to meet his swollen lips. “I want you so bad”.

Feeling a wave of heat rushing through your body at that, you nodded your head, pecking his lips one more time before you reached for your nightstand, opening its small drawer and taking a condom out of it. Going back to your boyfriend, you were met with his rather taken aback expression.

“You knew this was going to happen or…” he questioned with a raised brow and a teasing smile.

You shook your head as a shy smile curved up your lips. “The two idiots I live with filled my drawer with them when we started staying over at each other’s regularly” you explained with a roll of eyes. “They also left a box full of them in my closet”.

Jeongguk laughed wholeheartedly at that. “Well, that’s good to hear. They will come in handy”.

Laughing along with him at his joyful remark, you opened the small envelope in your hands, pulling slightly back so you were no longer hovering over his member and could slide the condom on it with ease — feeling Jeongguk’s breath hitch at both the unfamiliar feel of the thin latex around his length, and the familiar one of your hands on it. Staring back at him once you were done, you stole a sweet kiss from his lips, hearing him moan against your mouth when your hand was once more wrapped around his cock, pumping it a couple more times as you aligned it with your entrance.

And then, locking eyes with him for a second, you kissed him slowly. As slowly as you had started to sink down on him.

Letting go of the kiss as he involuntarily tilted his head back, Jeongguk let out a loud moan, immediately getting lost into what was without a doubt the most pleasure he had ever felt. And he knew right away that your warm, wet walls wrapping tightly around his member, was something he could easily become addicted to.

Staring lovingly at the way his eyes remained closed and his mouth slightly open, you couldn’t help but moan as well as you pushed down lower on him, feeling your walls stretching as you tried to take his entire length.

“Fuck” he rasped when he was completely inside of you.

Tightening his hold on your hips, he pulled you slightly closer to him on his lap, not being able to hold back a blissful chuckle at the way the friction he had just created made him feel.

“What is it?” you wondered with a smile of your own when he leaned in to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

“It feels so good” he let you know with another chuckle.

Joining him on his sudden outburst of joy, you let out a light laugh just as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your shoulder, loving to be the one who got to share this moment with him — to be the one he wanted to share this moment with. Pressing a small kiss to the top of his head, you placed two fingers under his chin to push it up and have him look at you. Once he did, you leaned in to steal a lingering kiss.

“I love you” you said for the third time that night.

He smiled brightly, bringing his lips up to yours and locking them in a slow kiss. “I love you more”.

Opening your mouth to fight him on that, what came out of it instead was a choked moan after he pulled your hips down on his cock.

“Jeongguk, fuck” you let your forehead fall to his shoulder when he pushed his hips up to yours.

Slowly rolling your hips, you met him right as he thrusted up on you once more, causing a small moan to make its way out of his mouth. “Mm… baby…”

With his hands firmly grabbing your hips, you let him guide the pace as you rode him, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your forehead on his as the two of you grew used to the rhythm he was leading. Closing your eyes, you let your heavy breathings mix as they were now, along with a few moans here and there, the only sound filling your silent bedroom.

“O-Oh, fuck” you gasped when he pulled you down harder on him, somehow managing to push deeper inside of you.

You leaned slightly back when he repeated said action, tilting your head back as well and then humming quietly when you felt his warm lips wrap around one of your breasts, slowly sucking on your nipple, as you had just given him the perfect opportunity to do just that, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and pulling you closer to him as you kept rolling your hips at the same pace he had created for you before.

“Mh—ah! Fuck” he moaned when you pushed your legs up, enough for only half of his cock to be inside of you, to later take it all in again. “Y/N…”

Doing it again, you couldn’t stop the whimper that had just abandoned your mouth as his length had managed to reach that soft spot of yours. Needing more of him, you sped up the pace of your grinding against his hips, feeling him finally let go of your sensitive bud to let his sweaty forehead rest in the crook of your neck as his moans became louder by the second.

“Wait, wait” he demanded breathily, placing his hands on your hips and firmly holding them down so you would stop moving. “Stop”.

“What’s wrong?” you worried, doing as told in a heartbeat.

He shook his head no, quietly letting you know nothing was really wrong, as he buried his face deeper in the crook of your neck and closed his eyes while he tried his best to catch his breath. “Feels too good” he admitted in a raspy voice. “Don’t wanna cum yet”.

You giggled under your breath, finding silent joy on the fact that he hadn’t asked you to stop because he wasn’t enjoying what you were doing, but because he was liking it too much.

Lowering your head to his shoulder, you planted a small kiss on it. “You can cum if you want” you let him know, pressing another soothing kiss to the crook of his neck. “I understand”.

He shook his head no, letting out a heavy sigh as his thumbs drew tender circles on your skin. Maybe it was his ego, or just the fact that he really wanted to make you feel good too, maybe both, what made him refuse to let himself go right then, no matter how bad he wanted to. No matter how hard it was not to.

Smiling sweetly at him, you brought one of your hands up to his damp hair while your other one caressed his back, entangling your fingers in his dark locks as you waited for him to come down from the high he had been about to reach. Letting out a sigh when he felt like he could finally breathe again, he placed his hands on your back to pull you closer — lips looking for yours when your naked chest pressed on his.

Kissing him hard, you opened your mouth for his tongue to meet yours after it had traced your bottom lip, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and trying your best not to roll your hips like you were dying to. Although you didn’t have to hold back for much longer, for with one last kiss and with his warm hands still holding you down on his cock, he pushed it deeper inside of you.

“Fuck” you gasped at the sudden stimulation, taking it as your cue to start moving as well.

“F—Y/N” he moaned when your hips met his in the middle, as they pushed into you once more.

Helping you lead the pace once again, he held you by the waist, digging his fingers into your hot skin and deciding right there, as you moaned his name and your walls tightened around his cock, that he wanted to take over from then on. So, with a swift movement, you were now under him as he laid your back on the mattress — a light moan escaping your lips when he pulled out of you to make you more comfortable on the bed, immediately becoming whiny as you missed his whole length inside of you.

“No, don’t stop fucking me” you pouted, breath hitching when he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to where he was sitting down on the mattress. “Jeongguk, please”.

He smiled at both the sound and sight of you right then, really enjoying them one hell of a lot. It was your messy hair, swollen lips and naked chest that moved up and down as you breathed heavily, along with the neediness in your voice as you were begging for him once more, what made it easy for him to decide he liked being in control.

Catching your bottom lip in his mouth as he adjusted himself in between your legs, he heard you beg one more time against his lips. However, just as you did, he felt one of your hands desperately go down to your center so you could feel something inside of you. Only you didn’t get to, for his hand grabbed your wrist right before your fingers could find their way inside, managing to grab your other one as well and pin them over your head as he pushed his hips down enough for the head of his cock to align with your wet center.

“I’m the one fucking you tonight, petal”.

You moaned at the sound of his words being murmured against your neck — the way such sweet pet name had been said with such a lustful tone right then, making you somehow even more needy for him.

“Please,” you breathed out, overwhelmed by the way his mouth teased the sensitive skin of your neck and he rubbed his cock against your core, not quite pushing into you yet. “Jeongguk, please. I need you”.

“What was that?” he wondered teasingly.

“I need you” you repeated. “Jeongguk, please. Please fuck m—ah!” your head was thrown back in pleasure when he slammed his entire length into you, just the way you were so badly begging for.

Hungrily kissing your mouth, he muffled the moans that came out of it with each thrust of his hips — letting go of your lips as a low groan made its way out of his throat when your walls wrapped tighter than he had felt them do that evening, as you were getting closer to reach your high.

Letting his forehead fall to your shoulder, he muffled a cry against your skin as you wrapped your legs around his waist and your walls tightened once more against his cock, knowing right then he wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

“Harder” you pleaded breathily, arching your back as he wasted no time in complying. “F-Fuck, Jeongguk. Ah!”

“Y/N” he rasped your name, feeling his inevitable release about to hit. “Fuck, I’m g-gonna cum”.

Not being able to form any kind of coherent sentence right then, you settled for an eager nod of your head to let him know it was okay. Digging your nails on the wet skin of his back, you scratched your way down on it when he once again managed to find that one soft spot of yours that had you crying out in a second.

“Right there,” you desperately let him know, feeling your legs start to give up when he kept hitting it with each of his thrusts. “Fuck, right there”.

“A-Ah, Y/N, I’m—” he stumbled upon his own words, not being able to hold on anymore given how much tighter you were getting now around him. “Mm… I’m gon—ah!”

Groaning one last time, he let himself go like he had fought so hard not to — your pulsating walls around his cock finally driving him over the edge.

Although overwhelmed by the intense wave of pleasure running through his body, beginning to feel dizzy even, he did not slump down on you to catch his breath like he so badly needed to. Instead, he kept riding his own orgasm — his thrusts becoming sloppier yet rougher as he greedily tried to drive you over the edge, too.

And it was only a matter of seconds before you did.

“J-Jeongguk, I’m—ahh!” you cried out one last time, feeling your shaky legs give up as you came undone beneath him.

Helping you ride out your orgasm as well, Jeongguk whimpered at the overstimulation, finally letting his body slump down on yours and burying his face on your neck, as he felt his body tremble with each spasm of your walls around him. Feeling his hot, heavy breath hit your sweaty neck as the two of you desperately tried to catch your breath, you entangled once more your fingers on the hair at the back of his head — fingertips ever so tenderly moving in circular motions in a soothing way.

Closing your eyes for a couple of seconds, you felt his thumb caress one of your sides, later having you opening your eyes when he pressed two brief kisses to the crook of your neck and a breathy laugh of his was soon to follow right after.

“What’s so amusing?” you wondered, feeling the corners of your mouth curve up when another chuckle of his reached your ears.

“That was amazing” he confessed, causing your face to burn as your smile grew wider. Pressing one of his arms down on the mattress, he held his body up so he could lock his eyes with yours. “Was it okay for you?”

You bit your bottom lip, shyly looking away for a split second before your eyes focused back on his. “Jeon Jeongguk,” you called his name in a serious tone.

“Hm?”

“You made me cum twice” you reminded him, loving the sight of his already flushed cheeks turning even more pink than they already were. “I think that speaks for itself”.

He let out a shy laugh, tilting your chin up as he brought his lips down to yours and kissing you sweetly for a good couple of seconds, later moving his lips over to press an open mouth kiss to your cheek before he finally pulled out of you. Removing the condom from his member, he crawled to the edge of the bed and reached for the small bin you kept under your desk next to your bed, bringing it closer to him and throwing the used latex into it before he went back to lie on his stomach next to you — blissfully letting you kiss his lips once more like you had just reached up to.

“I’ll get better at it” he promised, earning a quiet giggle from you.

“Well, we do have three years to make up for, so I guess we’ll both get a lot of practice” you pointed out coyly.

“And we don’t have to worry about running out of condoms anytime soon” he reminded you, amusement clear in his voice.

Throwing your head back on the mattress, you allowed a throaty laugh to escape your mouth, later looking back at him and bringing your hand up to cup one of his cheeks. Gently caressing it a couple of times, you puckered your lips up for him to come closer and cut the space between your mouth — smiling softly when he complied in a heartbeat, slowly sucking on your bottom lip.

“I love you” he mumbled on your lips, loving the way he was finally able to say it freely, knowing you felt the same, like he had been aching you to all along.

“I love you more” you repeated his previous answer with a smile.

Kissing your lips chastely, he shook his head no, tilting his head towards the flowers that were taking over your desk. “Those are proof that I love you more”.

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Those are proof that you’ve loved me for longer, it’s got nothing to do with the amount of it”.

“Mhm…” he nodded his head, letting you know with both the tone of his voice and the look on his eyes that you were not convincing him. “Whatever works for you, petal” his lips turned into a smile as he let his back slump down on the bed.

“Yah,” you gently shoved him off, feeling your heart skip a beat when you heard him laugh.

Pulling you to his chest by wrapping an arm around you, he planted a kiss to your forehead. Although you had sighed contentedly after resting your face on his chest, he didn’t miss the way your mind was quite absent right then.

“What’s wrong?” his eyebrows knitted together, growing somewhat more confused after following with his eyes to where yours were staring at and having them fall on the flowers.

“Nothing” you smiled, unconsciously running your fingers along his chest. “I just wish these particular ones would last forever”.

Smiling as he adoringly stared at you, he hugged you closer to his body. “I can get you all the flowers you want”.

At that, your head snapped up so you could lock eyes with him. The mischievous smile that had just formed on your mouth as you cockily raised one of your eyebrows, letting him know right away he was about to regret what he had just said. “You’ll be like my flower daddy then?”

Yup, there it was, the regret.

“Anddd, you ruined it” he lamented.

Letting his head fall back down on the mattress, he closed his eyes as he tried his best to fight the smile that was threatening with taking over his face, knowing he would fail miserably at it when he heard you chuckle next to him — finally giving in to it and laughing as well as you peppered open mouth kisses around his face.

Although popular, loud, chaotic, bubbly, impulsive as hell, and just the complete opposite to what he was, he could not be any happier it was you the one his heart had chosen to fall irretrievably in love with.

#bts #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook #bts smut #jungkook smut #kpop #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts social media au #jungkook social media au #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook

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Day 8: Moceit

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 8 - The temperature of your chest gets hotter when you are closer to your soulmate and colder when you move further away. 

Content warnings (oh boy): This is an afterlife fic! Meaning there is technically character death, but it is essentially the beginning of a whole new life, and the death itself is only briefly touched upon. That being said, warnings for; hypothermia/frostbite, death, car accident, talk of past death, mention of cancer, brief description of body horror (no gore).

Word count: 2.8k

It started when Janus was two. His parents were awoken by his feral cries, throwing open the door to his room, imagining the worst. They recoiled immediately upon touching him, his skin almost freezing to the touch. They closed the bedroom window and piled him in more layers until he stopped wailing, but that was only the start.  

When he was six, his mother explained soulmates to him. He looked at her with huge eyes, fiddling with the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

When he was ten, he had grown sick and tired of the constant cold. A majority of his classmates and friends hadn’t met their soulmates yet, but they all didn’t seem as bothered by it as he was. They didn’t keep their winter jackets on in class, no matter the season, and their hands were never too cold to hold a pencil.

When he was thirteen, he caught hypothermia. At the insistence of his older brother, he joined him outside in the snow for a hike in the forest. His countless layers and heat pads in his pockets only did so much when they got hopelessly lost in the woods, and while his brother seemed to be unaffected by the cold, Janus woke up the next day in the hospital. He could vaguely remember falling face first into the snow, his cold slowly morphing into pleasant warmth, his brother shouting his name. The doctors were unable to save his left eye, leaving him half blind, and his frostbite scars never quite disappeared. They said the very fact that he survived was some kind of miracle. He didn’t go into the snow after that. 

When he was sixteen, his mother took him to a doctor. After thorough examination, the man could find nothing wrong with him. He suggested B-12 supplements and a list of ways to increase his circulation, and when that did nothing to help months later, he sat them both down in his office and explained it most likely meant Janus’ soulmate had died. Janus didn’t know until that moment that it was possible to miss someone you’ve never met, but he cried on the way home. His mom said nothing. 

When he was eighteen, Janus was alone. He had become reclusive and standoffish, unwilling to spend time around any of the people who tried to befriend him. All of them had soulmates. All of them got to be happy. 

When he was twenty, his family suggested group therapy for those who had lost their soulmates, and he had reluctantly gone to one session. For a moment, he felt at home, surrounded by other people in thick sweaters and jackets and gloves, until he learned that all of them had lost their soulmates after meeting them. They had been able to spend years together, enjoying each other’s company, before losing the love of their life. When he explained his situation, he was only met with the same sympathetic looks he’d received everywhere else in life, and he never went back. 

When he was twenty-two, he graduated with his Bachelor’s degree in psychology. The crowd was the quietest it had been all night; no one knew this guy, but it felt wrong to not cheer at all. He shook the Dean’s hand with thick yellow gloves and took the diploma, ignoring the man’s confused raised eyebrow and walking away to the noise of half-hearted claps. 

When he was twenty-five, life was okay. Not good, just okay. He’d found a lab job in the psychological social experiment aspect that paid decently and wasn’t a total bore. Most nights he was numb, especially after experiments that revolved around soulmates, so he turned on Netflix and poured a glass of wine and fell asleep on the couch, wrapped in a thick weighted blanket. Life is fine, he told himself. It could be worse. 

And when Janus was twenty-seven, he died. It was an accident; a mix of a long tiring day and an ignored red light just as he was crossing the street. The car barreled through the intersection, other car horns blaring, and he looked up just in time to see the person looking down, probably on their phone. He’d never know. The impact was quick, and he didn’t even have time to feel pain before the world went dark. He was a little grateful for that.

It stayed dark for a long while after that. Well, in full honesty, he didn’t know how long it was. It felt like a long time, but it also felt extraordinarily short. The seconds turned to years and millennia became mere minutes, the very concept of time fading away just as he did. A minuscule part of him was still aware that he was conscious, and he probably should have been a little scared of that, because did that mean he was destined to float around as an unattached subconscious for eternity? A larger part of him was just relieved to finally rest, with the weight of student debt and an exhaustingly lonely life finally gone. 

Until it wasn’t. The light crept into the center of his vision first and he grumbled in annoyance. Let me just enjoy it a second longer, he thought distantly, but the light didn’t listen as it slowly spread across his vision like molasses. For the first time in his life, he realized with a start, he didn’t feel cold. There was a heat in his chest that he’d never felt before, and he was scared when the darkness faded, so would the warmth. 

“Janus, are you okay?” A desperate voice broke through his dark haze in whisps, slowly clearing the fog that had set in. It rambled on, “Oh, stupid question. You just died. Sorry! Can you see me?”

His vision lit up all the way, replacing the darkness but not taking away the heat. Perfect. He was about to answer no to the stranger’s question; there was just a blur of blue and white and green, until the figure loomed that much closer and came into focus. It was a man, probably his age, with bright blue eyes and floppy golden hair, his freckled nose just inches from Janus’. His eyes held concern but he was smiling like no tomorrow. The man seemed to realize when Janus could in fact see him clearly and backed away, holding out a hand to help him up. Why was he lying on the ground? Where was he?

That question was answered as soon as he took the offered hand, looking around him in shock. Apparently the dark void hadn’t held him for as long as he thought. A distant siren pierced the air, and people’s shouts rang over each other as they milled around the body in the street, his body. The car that had hit him was nowhere to be seen. It was all too surreal, too uncomfortable, and he turned back to the man standing in front of him. They were standing on the sidewalk, just meters away from the gruesome scene on the street, and Janus suddenly felt very lightheaded. 

“I carried you away as soon as your soul formed. Didn’t want to overwhelm you when you opened your eyes for the first time.”

“I’m dead?”

“Yep,” The man answered just a bit too cheerfully, before noticing the newcomer’s expression and softening, “Sorry. I’ve been here for a while, the shock has kind of worn down.”

“What’s here?”

“The afterlife. Deathny World. Aliven’t. I’ve heard it all.”

“Ah,” Janus choked, trying to take in the environment around him without looking at his own dead body, or the paramedics that had just arrived on the scene. It looked like the real world, and obviously they were still in the real world to some extent since he was witnessing the aftereffects of his own death, but the subtle mist floating through the air was definitely new. It curled through the air gently, resting on every surface it could land on, coloring the world with soft rainbow hues. It was the real world, it was just as if he was seeing more of it for the first time. The parts that were invisible before. An orange tuft graced by his ear and he could just make out the sound of someone laughing, the smell of fresh bread, the taste of fresh jam on a summer morning. A smile tugged at his lips before he realized.

“Forgotten memories,” The man spoke up, as if reading his mind. “Every lost memory of every person winds up here. Mostly good ones, but some are bad. You’ll learn how to sift through them soon enough.” 

Janus was finally able to pull himself away from the colorful world, staring into the bright eyes of the stranger. “Who are you?”

“I’m Patton,” he said with a new grin, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “I’m your soulmate.”

--------------------------------------

It took Janus a much longer time than he would have liked to admit to unfreeze from the revelation, Patton taking his hand gently and sinking them out to a new location. His stomach churned upon rising up, the new sensation making him nauseous. He didn’t recognize where they were, some cafe, and Patton gently pushed him into a seat before strolling up to the counter with no hesitation, starting a conversation with the barista and gesturing to Janus. The mist, the lost memories, were gone, replaced with a golden haze that gave the world a soft glow. The air was thick with the smell of coffee beans and cookies that instantly calmed Janus’ stomach. When Patton finally walked back to him, two mugs in hand, he explained. 

“This is the soul world. We can pop in from the real world to this one whenever we want. Some souls choose to stay on one side predominantly, some switch back and forth a lot.” 

“This single cafe is the soul world?”

“Oh! No, my bad! There’s a whole lot more outside. I’ll have to show you later. Right now, though, just relax. You’ve had a… long day, to say the least.” He pushed one of the cups into Janus’ grasp.

“What is it?” He asked skeptically. It looked like coffee, but who’s to say anything anymore. 

“Whatever you want it to be. Think of your favorite drink, then try it.”

Janus narrowed his eyes but lifted the mug to his lifts, trying to think of a single drink he liked. His mind decided that this was the ideal moment to forget everything he ever drank in his entire short life, so when he finally took a sip, the liquid was disgustingly tasteless. Like warm water. He set the drink down, watching Patton intensely.

Janus took in his appearance, his general shock finally beginning to wear off. An open light blue button up over a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was pretty much Janus’ definition of cute, what with those stupidly adorable dimples and little golden locket hanging on his neck. If he’d met him when he was alive, he no doubt would have fallen head over heels for him.    

“You’re my soulmate? How is that…” He cleared his throat, hoping he wasn’t blushing, “How is that possible?”

Patton hummed, wiping off what appeared to be a hot chocolate moustache, “I died when I was three. Cancer.”

“That’s awful.”

Patton shrugged, taking another sip, “It wasn’t great. I woke up by myself, still half wedged in my own corpse. It was terrifying. My parents were crying, and I tried to tell them I was there, somehow, but they couldn’t see me.”

“Totally not traumatic at all.”  

The man actually laughed, despite the dark story, “I had to figure everything out for myself. Sinking down, navigating both worlds, how to control my own form… which you are doing surprisingly well at, by the way.” 

Janus glanced down at himself. He definitely wasn’t alive, that much was sure, if the wisps of yellow smoke cascading down him were any indication. If he concentrated hard enough, the fog began to disappear, leaving him looking normal, albeit a bit paler. As soon as his mind drifted, however, the golden trails were back.

“This was the first place I was able to rise up in in this world. It’s kind of an easy access point. I popped up behind the counter, scared the living daylights out of Virgil.” He pointed to the barista who was currently chatting with another person ghost, laughing over identical mugs with them. “He’s been here a while. Two hundred years, give or take.”

Janus paled, the idea of eternity becoming just that much more real. “Oh…”

“Yeah. He kind of raised me. And then when I was old enough to understand, he explained that I’d left a soulmate behind. I cried for hours after that.” He smiled sadly, finally meeting Janus’ eyes. 

“You knew my name,” The younger recalled suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “Right when I was waking up, you said my name.”

Patton looked almost sheepish, focusing back on the cup between his hands, “After Virgil told me… I kind of made it my personal mission to find my soulmate. I spent a lot of time in the real world, years, trying to find you, and of course checking in on my parents sometimes. Ghosts don’t need sleep, we can sleep, if we want, but we don’t need to, so it was a constant search. And then, my parents both ended up in the hospital, long story, and I wanted to be there when they woke up. Make their transition into the new world a little easier than mine was,” His expression lit up, wiggling a little in his seat, “And while I was there, I stumbled across a certain young patient with severe frostbite and hypothermia.”

“Me.”

“Mmhm. And I felt this weird warmth in my chest, which is weird, because ghosts don’t really feel temperature. It didn’t last that long, just a couple seconds, really, but it was enough time to know.”

“The soulbond.”

“Yep.”

They both drank in unison. This time, Janus’ drink tasted like the unsweetened chamomile tea from the hospital. He made a sour face and put the cup back down. He stared into his reflection for a moment, almost captivated in the sloshing against the sides of the mug, before Patton spoke again.

“I spent most of my time in the alive-world after that. With you. And it sucked, because there was nothing I wanted more than to talk to you and hug you and just let you know I existed… you were so sad…”

“Yeah…” Janus mumbled, tapping the ridge of his cup with his fingernail. “Is that why you were at the accident?”

“I tried to stop it,” Patton whispered, a look of pure guilt crossing his face, “I couldn’t tug you back though, and you didn’t hear me. So the least I could do was pull you out when you formed and take you away from the crowd.” 

The odd language was starting to confuse Janus, the weird differentiation between his soul and his body, the terminology regarding the soul world he didn’t understand… it was all just a lot. 

“So… Do we age? You’re obviously not three anymore. But the barista doesn’t look two hundred.”

“Virgil. And… I don’t know.”

“Very comforting.”

“You’re sassy.”

“That I am.” 

For the first time in a very long time, Janus’ lips twitched into a smile in response to the absolute beam on Patton’s face. No one had ever taken his snark as anything other than bitchiness, but this guy, his soulmate, seemed to love it. 

“As far as I know, we won’t. I think I only aged along with you, and now that you’re here, we’re probably done.” He had finished his drink, the barista swooping in out of nowhere and plucking it from his grasp with an impish grin. Patton shouted his thanks as Virgil disappeared into the back room. “He’s been waiting to meet you for a long time. But he can be a handful, so we’ll save proper introductions until you’re settled. Speaking of which…” He stood up, smoothing out his shirt and offering his hand to Janus once more. “I can show you where residency is, if you’d like. It might be nice to take a nap, just to process.”

Janus considered. The vague sounding ‘residency’ was intriguing, but he was much too restless to sleep right now. He voiced as much. “Maybe later. Do you think you could show me around first?”

The grin Patton gave him was bright enough to power a city block. Janus took the extended hand and the man squealed, pulling him towards the door excitedly. Yeah. He was definitely already falling for the literal ball of sunshine that was his soulmate. 

“One grand tour of the afterlife, coming up!” 

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #ts afterlife au #moceit #ts soulmate au #sanderssides #soulmate september #soulmateseptember

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (9/?)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 

Link to cross-postings: AO3

The oval stretched out in front of him, much wider than his range of vision but Levi felt no need to look around him and take in the whole view. It was the largest oval in his city and having been one of the more active high jumpers the past five years, he had been there enough to memorize it inside and out.

That particular day, instead of being out there in the field doing warm up jumps like he had been for the past decade of his life, he was on the bleachers, a few seats away from the front. He was merely a part of the audience, an oddly surreal experience. For years, Levi had never given the audience a passing thought after all. His world during those few hours on the track had consisted of the bar he had to jump over, the jumper before him, his coach and teammates on the bench and maybe some the interviewers who would flock to him after the medal ceremony.

Although he had gone to that track so many times before, somehow it felt like he was experiencing it for the first time.

He was unprepared as well. Levi found himself pushing his hands farther into his hoodie huddling for whatever warmth it could afford him. Possibly it was the long days he had spent indoors that had made him unready for how cold mid autumn could actually be.

The past two weeks leading up to that particular night, Levi had not left the comforts of Hange's apartment much aside from for the occasional check up or regular therapy session. When he wasn't writing or making sense of new dreams, he spent most of his days catching up with schoolwork or trying to help around her apartment even with his injury.

With the long hours he had spent indoors, he was almost sedentary in comparison to the twice a day training and it was a drastic change. As he watched the other athletes warm up on the track, he was unable to fathom how he had survived long ago in light athletic wear. He started to wonder how much he had changed. If his knee wasn’t casted or buckling at the slightest weight, if he had a perfectly good knee just like a few weeks ago, would he have still been able to jump.

Was that sudden sensitivity to the cold he was feeling a product of his psyche or did his body just suddenly get weaker due to his long stint indoors?

To think I used to actually win these events. With the disbelief that came with that passing thought, Levi suddenly remembered why he had hesitated to join them in the first place. Everything from the atmosphere, to the warm up jumps found a way to hurt him. The few whispers he could hear from his place on the bleachers about the Ackerman kid, who had achieved a college record less than a year ago suddenly sidelined for life, were reminding him why exactly he had cooped himself up in the first place.

At first, he had attributed a huge chunk of that to the healing process, the writing process and the general lack of necessity to go out. At that moment, he was watching athletes do the jumps he knew how to perfectly execute yet was sure he would never be capable of doing again. At the same time, he was listening to whispers that could have been very much about him with the smatters of conversations on knee injuries and wasted talent.

He had looked towards Hange for comfort, an almost instinctive movement. Ironically, that movement had him rubbing more salt on his already reopened wounds. He had ended up watching Hange fall so easily to a state of a daydream and Levi did not need to look back at the oval to know why. She was watching the athletes go through the motions of the jumps.

He recognized that same look to be the one she had given Elijah and those athletes on her instagram feed. He would have given a lot to be able to go back to the Levi of a few weeks ago, the Levi who had been the subject of her hyper fixations. The inevitability of time had him hating himself a little more.

Levi cleared his throat in an attempt to swallow the lump that had settled there and willed himself to look back at the field. The temptation to space out was strong.

He had decided on watching the high jump event for a reason though and he was determined to make it worth it.

                               A Tale of Two Slaves

"Mike and Nanaba?” Levi repeated. The names flowed out of his mouth so smoothly so easily as if he had said those names many times before. Of course, he knew them. They were the subject of Hange’s case study years ago, the one he had read in preparation for meeting Hange.

“Mike Zacharius and Nanaba Briete,” Hange repeated. “Two friends from high school. They’re both participating in the high jump event so I thought of watching."

Mike and Nanaba. As Levi soon found out though the names weren’t cold to his tongue. They didn’t feel as stiff or professional despite their clear origins from an academic paper. It was almost second nature for Levi to attach faces to both of their names.

And that had been a breakthrough at that moment. For the past few days, he had been struggling to dream something different. Ever since Hange had given him a dream catcher, the dreams with Erwin and Hange had surprisingly been clearer and those scenes he had pictured had so easily flown from mind to paper, particularly his dreams to see the outside wall, his drive for atonement, his heroic sacrifice. It had also made him familiar with more subtle things like the long hours he had spent in the office, the amount of time he had spent joined to Erwin’s hip as his right hand man, and the trust he had put on him all the way until the end of his life.

He had squeezed what he had taken out of every memory and every dream and suddenly one day, he woke up to find himself completely intimate with that dream Erwin. Yet the story wasn’t complete, he just had to find inspiration elsewhere.

In an attempt to support him, Hange had been doing her part too to invite him out when she could.

She had suggested movies, shopping or dinner out. Levi could see behind it though and knew Hange would have preferred hiking, park hopping or working out. Not wanting to settle for bland ideas, they probably would have both slogged through, Levi declined all of them despite Hange’s insistence.

Ironically, her mention of plans to watch his college track and field event of all things had been an exception. "I'll come with you," Levi said without thinking.

Hange frowned in concern. “You sure?”

“Why? You don’t want me to come?”

Hange shook her head. “It’s not that…. I’m just surprised that you seemed a little too eager. I talk watching something like that might be torture for you.”

“I haven’t gone out in so long. I’m fine with anything at this rate.”

“We could start with a trip to the mall? Or we could go out for dinner?” Hange lightly suggested.

“I wanna get to know your friends too,” Levi said.

Hange raised one eyebrow at him as she eyed him a little too suspiciously. “You never seemed like the type to actually enjoy meeting new people.”

Levi avoided her gaze. If it were any other friends, he probably wouldn’t have cared enough to leave the comforts of Hange’s apartment. In fact, meeting his classmates and having face-to-face classes were a burden he was happy to avoid. Those names which Hange had mentioned, the faces that suddenly clicked in his brain, which were further confirmed by a quick google search had him all the more invested. “Nanaba and Mike seem like interesting people,” Levi finally admitted.

Her reaction was unexpected to say the least. Levi found himself practically jumping out of his seat in shock at the explosion of laughter that came out of your mouth. “Why the hell are you laughing?”

Eventually, her laughter did die down but Levi wasn’t counting the seconds until it did. He had been too busy enjoying the way her eyes crinkled and her nose wrinkled as she smiled. “Wait ‘til Nanaba and Mike hear this. The quiet antisocial guy who beat them out of first place every single fucking time is actually interested in getting to know them

“Wait. I went against them?”

“Aaaaand you don’t even remember.” Hange flailed her hands up exaggeratedly. “I should have known.” She shook her head. Her voice still had the remnants of the loud laughter of a while ago and she didn’t look like she would be getting rid of that playful demeanor anytime soon.

“And now you’re just making fun of me.

Hange wiped a tear from the side of her eye. “I’m sorry. I probably look so weird right now. I know I shouldn’t be acting like this.” As she put her hand down, she looked back up at him, her smile visibly wider than it was a second ago. “It just never dawned on me till now how weird it just feels. If I told my past self I’d be sharing an apartment with jumper extraordinaire Levi Ackerman, past Hange would have tried to slap some sense into me.”

Jumper extraordinaire Levi Ackerman. Somehow, Levi was recalling the way she had held his hands and stared at him, the first time he had laid eyes on her. I heard you’re the best one in the team… I’d love to see you in action. The glimmer in eyes and the excited tone in her voice that fluctuated between highs and lows with every syllable, it was the same as it had been then when she first called out to him.

Hange took a deep breath. “The tournaments were the only times Nanabe and Mike would visit this part of town so they’d invite me to watch every year…”

“And you watched it every year…” Levi didn’t need to confirm anything. It was all in her eyes.

As if she knew she had given it all away through her eyes, Hange quickly looked away. She had done nothing though to hide the pink in her cheeks. She probably couldn’t have done anything to hide it anyway. “When the super rookie Levi Ackerman scored an almost record breaking upset win…” Hange recounted so mechanically as if she were reading a headline. “I was in the crowd. And I never stopped following him since.”

And I never stopped following him since. The moment Hange said it, she dropped her shoulders to the side, so quickly and so eagerly, Levi wondered what kind of baggage she had been holding for her to look so free as she said those last words. His mind shifted elsewhere before he could ponder it any longer.

It was a long shot but Levi still found himself looking back, scrambling to recall his first every competition through lasting sensations from the cold breeze, the blinding lights and the cacophony of cheers mixed with announcers’ commentaries.

As if by some miracle, he remembered it. He remembered it as he mentally prepared for the most crucial jump. The bar was a good two meters up in the air. His legs were aching, his heartbeat was getting wilder. Before he jumped, he had glanced at the bleachers as the murmurs and cheers got stronger and consequently more difficult to ignore. On the bleachers, more specifically on the fifth row from the front, sat Hange. Her hair still as brown and untamed as always, her eyes held the same wonder it always had. And maybe a little surprise? That had been his first tournament after all.

He had only given her a passing glance then. Within a split second, she had blended with the scenery as he ran towards the bar. The jump that came quickly after was strong and exhilarating.

And as Levi landed on the cushion on the other side of the bar, welcoming explosions of gasps and wild cheers as he did, he couldn’t help but reflect on it.

Rookie Ackerman bags gold in the Regional Cup with record breaking height.

That first tournament jump had been life changing, inspiring. Possibly it was the jump that had paved the way to the years of victory that followed.

No sane athlete would have memorized the faces in the crowd. For him though, it felt criminal that he had only noticed it then as she admitted it to him herself.

She had been a part of that experience too.

                            A Tale of Two Slaves

Eventually, Levi did get tired of torturing himself. He knew the way to the barely used locker rooms in the building next to the oval and he seeked solace there. Somehow, he found it worth it to make a slight scene as he struggled to keep his balance and he maneuvered his crutches down the bleachers.

When he got to the empty locker room, with only the dark ceiling above him and silence, that made even the dripping of water deafening, he was able to forget the embarrassing and frustrating journey there. And within a few more minutes, he did forget the onslaught of emotion that had culminated into a wave of incomprehensible emotions, manifesting as demons in his head.

With a lack of stimuli to remind him of his reality, he was once again numb. And numbness tended to lead to dreaming. The old locker room was no place to fall asleep though and Levi found himself trying to focus on whatever faint stimuli could reach him as to stay rooted in his reality.

Faint cheers made their way into the dark room. Levi had watched more than enough jumps to know the cheers flowed with the movements, always at their loudest when the athlete is at their highest. Oddly enough, he had managed to drown out the cheers more easily when he was in the middle of them.

Although they were faint, they were still much louder and more rattling than Levi had ever experienced them to be. And the cheers did rattle him to the bone. His body shook every time the cheers reached their crescendo and he wondered if Hange was watching too. Was she screaming? He could imagine her cheers so easily and he found himself trying to pick it out among what could have been hundreds of other voices.

Her voice was unique, nostalgic, memorable. It should have been easy. But the cheers were too faint. Even in the silence, he found it difficult to split them into individual voices, let alone isolate one out of hundreds. He leaned back on the cold wall, slipped onto the floor and closed his eyes.

“Levi?”

Levi had assumed it to have been a dream at first. The voice he had been raring to pick out among the crowd was right next to him. He willed himself not to open his eyes for fear that the voice might just disappear.

That small voice had opened up to sounds of steps then the brush of cloth on tiles. He felt a warm hand behind him, pulling him gently away from the wall and the warmth of something around him. Levi let out a cough, only then, when the cold was replace by warmth, did he realize how chilly the room actually was.

“You can really sleep anywhere huh?" Her voice had been too near, right next to his ear. Her breath tickled his ear and brushed past his neck. Even before he realized it, he had opened his eyes, Levi was already returning the subtle smile Hange had given him.

“What were you dreaming about?” It had become routine for Hange to ask that question. Levi couldn’t blame her. When he was at his worst, sometimes that was the only thing he was willing to talk about.

“Nothing. I wasn’t sleeping. I was just thinking,” Levi answered. “How are the results?”

Hange shrugged. “You saw it yourself. Elijah grabbed gold in the vertical jump. Mike silver…” She paused for a second.

“So none of the other jumpers after them got higher scores?”

“They still didn’t beat your record from last season.”

“I don’t need that reassurance,” Levi said. “This would have been my last season anyway. I’m gonna graduate, find a job, forget this sport then find out some other kid beat my record in a few years.”

“Why did you leave after Elijah cleared the 2.3 meter bar then?” Hange didn’t at all sound like she had wanted to provoke him. Levi was certain all she had wanted were answers.

“Why were you staring at Elijah like that when he jumped?” As he thought back to the final straw that had made him stand up and brave the stairs and the whispers from the crowd just so he could leave the field mid tournament, he realized exactly why. Hange hadn’t even noticed the way her eyes lit up at him. Somehow, that was enough to have Levi shaking as he saw the confusion in her eyes.

“Staring like what?”

“Your mouth was wide open and your eyes were stuck on him.”

“I just got a little excited I guess. When I see jumps that high, sometimes I feel like I’m flying myself,” Hange said. “Or I dunno, I’ve never flown before but it’s just so easy to get lost in it sometimes.”

“Did you feel that same way? When I jumped?” Used to jump. Regret weighed on him. As the seconds ticked as he waited for her answer, that regret gradually took over and pushed at his chest, making it more difficult to breath. It had been that one movement after all, that impulsive and reckless decision that had him there in that dark unused locker room instead of outside in the tournament.

It was his last season anyway. He had consoled himself so many times before. But it wasn’t the season and the career-ending injury that had him heavy hearted at that moment. Impending retirement in sports loomed for most college athletes, especially in their senior year. Levi had prepared himself for it already.

At first, it had been the loss of that one unique sensation, the blue sky above him, and the his body detached from the earth for that split second, the loss of that memorable and unique experience of having both air and gravity as his enemy as he flew through the air with the wind blowing through his face as if executing their own plans to stop him. When the dreams returned and when he had started to write them out, eventually the weight in his chest lightened, replaced by another one.

As he spent more time observing Hange and talking to her in between her thesis writing and his own writing, he noticed it fester slowly. Only when his chest lightened, set free from that other weight, did it start to make itself known.

Hange never stopped watching jumps, turns, tumbles, runs and spins. Sometimes, she would turn on the tv in the living room to some athletic meet. Sometimes, she’d just be scrolling through her timeline, liking whatever inhumane stunts an athlete was showing her at that moment. She had those same raised eyebrows, that same gaping mouth, those same dilated pupils and that same glimmer in the eyes that he wished was just the glare of the screen.

And I never stopped following him since. Had she looked at him with that same expression? That same exact expression she had given Elijah? Would there ever be away to look back at those moments, zoom into her and look for everything from the raised eyebrows, gaping mouth, dilated pupils and that glimmer in her eyes?

Did you look at me that same way? That was all he had wanted to ask. Hange wouldn’t have known though.

“Of course I did.” Hange answered. Levi could only wish it were true. Without seeing that same expression, he would never know.

“But I’ll never jump like that again. So I don’t think you’ll get that from me anymore.”

I can get it elsewhere. Levi had prepared his heart for that reply. He was at least ready enough not to lash out.

“Because you offer other things,” Hange said. “These stories about Captain Levi and Hange Zoe… Commander Erwin Smith? When we’re up late at night and you start talking about those contraptions that get us flying through the air like birds? I don’t know if it’s the way you describe it or if it’s the passion in your eyes but… it’s like I could have been flying too.”

“You were flying.” And Levi held on to the image so tightly, that the words flowed too naturally out of his mouth. If he hadn’t been staring at the blank ceiling above him, recalling easily how she had tumbled and turned so freely in the air, he probably would have been conscious about how much of a madman he had sounded like.

Hange didn’t seem to mind though. “Even if just in my own dreams, it would be nice.”

The dim room only made the transition from consciousness to unconsciousness a little easier. The coat over his shoulders and the warmth that it kept close to him didn’t help keep him awake either. His dim surroundings blurred into nothingness, the last two sensations he made out was the arm around his shoulder and the faint discomfort as he dropped his head onto what could have been a bony shoulder.

You were flying.

It was as if his dreams had heard the conversation of a while ago. Squad Leader Zoe, Commander Hange Zoe. Dreams of her came in snapshots, in crumbs that indulged all his five senses. The whizzing of cables, the explosion of gas, familiar yet distant screams of excitement, week old sweat.

Her greasy hair on his hands. Then Levi found himself on horseback, his and Hange’s faces were a little too close for comfort. It didn’t take much to remember why though.

She had said something about wanting to meet an abnormal titan and he was in the mood for jokes.

                                A Tale of Two Slaves

“Of all the years and tournaments you could have ditched, it had to be the tournament with my first ever golden medal performance.”

“Nanaba, I’ll make it up to you promise…”

“To think you’re the one who roped me into this sport in the first place…”

They had the whole taxi ride to start an argument. Levi was grateful at least the conversation only reached that topic when they were already in the elevator on the way to Hange’s apartment. Hange had prepared some hard drinks, some soft drinks, some chasers and a lot of water. He was sure that the argument with devolve into something a little less coherent and might actually fizzle out within an hour or so with the right cocktail mix.

He had gone through that same bout of adventure with his own teammates after all. Nanaba continued to talk her ear off while Mike and Hange cleared out the dining table. Levi sat on one of the chairs, making himself useful by opening up the bottles handed to him by Moblit.

“I’m gonna need something hard first. Imagining being awarded that gold medal then looking in the crowd for the person who inspired me to try high jumping in the first place.” Nanaba sat to Levi’s left pouring what could be a nauseating amount of gin into the cup and emptied it within seconds. “And lo and behold, it looks like you were hiding out with wonderboy here in one of the old locker rooms.” She turned to Levi. “So… What were you guys doing there?”

Oddly enough, Levi didn’t understand the question at first glance. It could have been interpreted as an innocent question. When he wasn’t taking into account the cat-like grin, the raised eyebrows and the wide-eyed gaze.

It was Moblit who confirmed her intention. He turned to Hange. “There isn’t anything between you and Levi though right?”

“No one needs to be in a relationship to do anything.” Mike added, begrudgingly wise words from the most quiet one in the room.

“Nothing really…” Hange sat next to Nanaba and poured her own glass of gin, mixing it with some soft drinks. “I just kept him company. And he fell asleep next to me.”

Nanaba turned to Levi, her cheeks much redder than they were a second ago. “You sure?” She cupped her hands over her mouth and whispered in a still very audible volume. “Blink twice if you need help.”

“I don’t remember much, I fell asleep.”

Everyone in the room jumped as Nanaba abruptly slammed her hand on the table. “And you just let your biggest fangirl get away with doing whatever she wanted with you huh?”

“Biggest… fangirl?” Levi asked.

Nanaba turned to Hange. “Don’t you have a folder of pictures of him on your phone?” She dove under the table. From where Levi sat he could only hear the frazzled protests of Hange.

“The pictures aren’t on my phone anymore!” Hange screamed.

“What pictures?” Levi asked, trying his best to ignore the slams and the sounds of struggle from below.

“We did go to all of your competitions.” Mike admitted. “They went for personal reasons… I went for my own research.”

Levi noted that Mike and Elijah tended to alternate second and third place between the both of them. According to Hange that is. He never looked beyond his own experiences and his own injury had made him all the more hesitant to research high jumping stats.

“That sounds reasonable.” Levi managed to say. Small talk had never been his forte. Especially when his conversation partner wasn’t leaving much opening to continue.

For a while they were both silent. “It’s a shame. You made the competition interesting. If this didn’t happen, you could have pushed the sport to new levels.”

“Accidents happen. Someone else will show up and do it,” Levi kept his voice toneless as if he were just rattling off a list of inevitable events. That probably was going to happen anyway. His current inebriated state just convinced him that it wasn’t worth pondering at that moment.

“Moblit! Keep my phone and Nanaba, just go the fuck to sleep already.” Hange’s tone and her face then that managed to be both cold and furious at the same time was terrifying. Maybe, because it was the first time he had ever seen her so angry.

“You’re one of my closest friends Hange…. Be happy…” Nanaba slurred.

Happy. Hange always seemed happy, barring that one sleepless night he did see her cry. At that moment though, Levi instinctively looked towards her, his brain somehow expecting to see a smile on her face.

Of course, with what happened just a while ago she wasn’t smiling. She pressed her phone onto Moblit’s hand and whispered something to him. She returned back and sat next to Levi, taking Nanaba’s seat of a while ago. “Well, I had pictures to be honest but just for a few months I guess? I mean I really liked your jumps and I wanted to keep them...”

“No. It’s nice to know I had a secret admirer.” No actually, Levi probably would have found it odd if it were anyone else. He was doing the equivalent of writing fanfiction about her and somehow, keeping a secret folder of photos of him seemed mild. Although she had mentioned deleting it, Levi found himself clinging to the hope that she might still have kept a few.

“Hange, Let me make it up to you,” A voice and a pair of arms came up from behind Hange and wrapped around both of their shoulders. Levi could smell the strong alcohol in them.

“Nanaba, I think you should go to sleep now…” Moblit said. He stood up and started to prepare one of the mattresses Hange had laid out on the side of the room.

“Make it up to me by going to sleep…” Hange mumbled visibly uncomfortable.

Nanaba ignored her. “Levi, could I ask you one favor?”

“What is it?” Levi asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the still half fall glass of tequila in front of him. He had only been taking only small and cautious sips after all.

“Could you kiss Hange?” Nanaba asked “At least, just a peck on the cheek?”

“Kiss?”

“Nanaba! Go. to sleep.”

Levi could hear the rattle of her chair and from his peripherals he could see Hange moving to stand up but before he could have even processed anything else, he felt a hand on his head, a slight push.

And within a split second, he felt wet lips, he tasted alcohol, he saw scenes and he heard voices.

Within another split second they were all gone.

Hange had gone red, he could see it in her cheekbones. She had her hand cupped to her mouth, her eyes wide with what could have been shock or embarrassment. As Levi felt the blood run through his cheeks and his incapacity to do anything but stare, he started to wonder what he had looked like.

“Weren’t you wondering how his lips tasted? During that one tournament?”

“That was a joke…” Hange said. She swallowed a lump on her throat and as she narrowed her eyes, Levi could see the beginnings of what could have been tears. Was it really a joke?

“Nanaba. Let’s get you to bed.” Mike appeared from behind Nanaba and guided her back to the mattress Moblit had prepared. He started whispering to Nanaba so slowly and gently, Levi almost admired him for his patience.

That exchange between Nanaba and Mike had only lasted a second. By the time Levi did look beside him, Hange was already gone and he could hear the door slam behind him.

Levi took a quick glance at both Moblit and Mike who were still trying to subdue an overly excited Nanaba before he stood up. Not bothering to even grab his crutches from the other side of the wall, he hobbled the few meter distance toward the door of her room.

“Hange?” Levi opened the door just wide enough to see it. She hadn’t locked the door at least.

“I still have the pictures on my phone.” She sounded apologetic. She sat at the foot of her bed, her face towards the ground. Levi could tell by the crack on her voice that she was in no mood to look up.

“The pictures of me?”

“I can delete them if you want. I know it’s creepy. I shouldn’t have taken so many during tournaments.”

“And you wanted to kiss me?”

Hange fell limply on the bed and looked up at the blank ceiling. She had looked like she was avoiding his gaze. “It was a weird passing thought. I mean, I know a lot of girls have those types of things but I guess it really is creepy when the person isn’t as big of a celebrity as boy groups or actors. But I’ve wanted to be an athlete since before I could remember. I wanted to jump, to see how it feels like flying through the air. And when I saw you jump, I swear you could have had wings on your back with how well you were able to control yourself up there. You made me feel like I could fly too and I guess I got a little obsessed and ended up thinking a lot of creepy shit. I know it’s weird and I sound like a stalker…”

“No it’s not. I still have the stories about you. I’m just as weird,” Levi looked towards the wall, a gesture of respect for Hange who looked like she was in no mood to look at him.

“But, you only started writing them after we met.”

“But the stories are so detailed, it’s embarrassing,” Levi said. “if I made you feel so strongly about this, you felt obsessed enough to sneak pictures. Just remember, you made me feel things too. And these things I felt, ended up making me write. And I’ve never written in my life.”

“How did I make you feel?”

“Like I could fly too.” His dreams could attest to the fact that he wasn’t lying. Levi chose that moment to look at her and their eyes locked even before he consciously tried to follow her gaze. She had lain on the bed, looking more relaxed than a second ago.

Hange scooched over. Levi noticed then with the slight movement that his right knee was starting to ache, having taken the load of all his body weight as he hobbled.

Her scooching over could have been a subtle movement more than anything but with his aching legs, Levi decided the risk was probably worth it. He approached the bed on the side Hange had opened up. “I thought of stuff I wanted to write... Nanaba and Mike were in those dreams too. For a time we would go out for drinks after a long day of training. Meat was hard to come by but sometimes, we would have the budget to blow on a plate of meat and we’d share it. Erwin would be there too. And sometimes, they would joke that we bickered like a married couple.”

“You really built your whole world huh? What inspired you to think that up this time? The alcohol? Meeting Mike and Nanaba? Having our heads bashed together?

The kiss? The visions of the split second chose to remind Levi of their existence at that particular moment. “The kiss?” The words rolled off his tongue so easily and so fluidly.

“You don’t have to call it a kiss if you don’t want to.” We didn’t decide to do it. So technically it isn’t right?”

Levi had wanted to argue. Hange’s denial of that kiss only made his memories clearer and the emotions tied to them much stronger.

That peck had been satisfying, euphoric. It was a cathartic release of pent up emotions. Yet at the same time it had only lasted a split second. In that silent room, on the bed next to Hange, he had enough of a breather to reflect and maybe articulate that particular gesture. His feelings were strong enough to at least convince him to keep it as is. “It’s a kiss,” he said.

The silence stretched for what could have been eternity. “It’s a kiss then,” Hange said. “Did it make you feel anything?”

“I liked it.” Levi kept it to those three words. If he gave his mouth and his emotions free reign, he might just say something he would regret.

“Did you see anything? Did it inspire you to write something else about Captain Levi and Commander Zoe?” It was just like Hange to pull those words out of his mouth anyway.

“If they weren’t constantly fighting for their lives, they might have ended up kissing.”

“And you’re not going to write a kissing scene?”

“They didn’t kiss.” Of course, they wouldn’t kiss during the war. They were fellow soldiers, subordinate and superior, it wouldn’t have been professional in the battlefield.

“Maybe after their relationship develops then.”

“It won’t develop.” The words came out automatically.

“Why not? What about after the war?” Hange suggested. Words like why always bring up more questions than answers and Levi found himself racking his brain for it.

The dreams and the memories or as Hange liked to call it, bouts of inspiration, came in images and scenes and sometimes pieces of information. From what he could tell, Hange and Levi had a strong bond and it would have only been natural that they had stayed close long after the war ended.

And a kiss probably wouldn’t have been too far off. But why didn’t they kiss? Why didn’t their relationship develop? Levi asked himself, as his mind caught up to the words he said.

Maybe because the war hadn't ended yet. But after that there should be potential to develop.

With time, Levi had started to realize a pattern to the dreams though. The answers to the questions came gradually. They came in meetings, conversations and dreams. If he waited patiently, if he just opened up, those questions would be answered right?

Before Levi even noticed it, he had settled on the bed next to her and had fallen asleep to those questions. His brain chose those moments in between the sleeping and waking world to go through the voices and visions that went through him in that split second kiss.

One day in the barracks, he had overheard three of his squad members talking.

“You know I’ve been working with the commander closely right?”

“Yeah?”

“After the meetings, Levi always stays in the room with her and every time I see them together. I can’t help but think, there might be something between them.”

“Maybe you’re just overanalyzing it. You do analyze a lot

“Hey, he was right about the titan shifters and their locations back in Shiganshina."

“We’re talking about romance here, not military intelligence. Besides, can you even imagine the captain and commander kissing?”

“Just because you can’t get a girl with your horse face.”

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi x hange #levi x hanji

[asteroiideae]

okay, so I don’t make these kinds of posts often because tbh I’m a little lazy and very tired like 24/7 lmao but I’ve been seeing a lot of Pride reading lists hit my dash (and they’re excellent, and I save them all!) buuuut reading books is still a roadblock I’m struggling to mentally overcome -- and audiobooks are great, but they take 84 years (sometimes literally???) to get through. so! I thought I’d share a (very tiny) list of the queer manga I’ve read this year that you might enjoy for Pride, with some descriptions/trigger warnings/thoughts to go with them. so here we go in no particular order other than where they sit on my bookshelf:

What Did You Eat Yesterday? by Fumi Yoshinaga

okay so I know I go on about this manga at literally every presented opportunity, but I honestly just can’t help myself??? as a thirty-something queer adult, I really love the quiet maturity of this relationship between Shiro and Kenji; especially when it’s highlighted by references to shenanigans of their youth, and the ways in which they are still growing as both individuals and a couple. I’ve only read the first six volumes but I’m OBSESSED.

Status: Ongoing (17 volumes; 15 translated) Summary: Shiro and Kenji are an established adult couple with separate careers and interests, whose relationship is depicted over the meals cooked for them by Shiro. This doesn’t have an overarching plot, which might be off-putting for some readers; each chapter can be compared to a fanfic one-shot, usually containing it’s own tiny storyline or theme. It’s literally just domestic moments and meals shared between these men. Warnings: While I didn’t personally have a problem with this, younger readers might find some of the dated terms offensive. If you’ve spent any time with older queer folks (older as in 45-50+) this won’t be anything you aren’t used to, but if your experience of queer folx skews younger or online, you might get taken by surprise. There’s also some internalized homophobia; and by some I mean quite a bit. Shiro’s personal arc (at least in the first six volumes) heavily revolves around how much he closets himself and tries desperately to pass as “normal” in Japanese business culture.

Boys Run The Riot by Keito Gaku

holy shit holy shit holy SHIT. this story is so good??? so VERY good??? I was a little cautious, and a little bit uninterested in a story about teens (only because I’m in my thirties and crave more adult representation,) but I was VERY WRONG to be. Boys Run The Riot is beautifully drawn, beautifully written, and probably my favorite work on this list. the mangaka is also trans so the inherent understanding and nuance of our protagonist’s experience is really lovely. Also featuring a fantastic brotp between a trans boy and his new himbo bestie; no seriously if you want a story about a trans boy getting to have good broships with other boys his own age I CANNOT stress this enough. Volume two is releasing next month; I have it preordered. I’m laying on my floor wishing for time to hurry the fuck up. I need more of this smol angry trans boy and his big soft himbo bff. PLS. Status: Ongoing (4 volumes published; 2 translated) Summary: Ryo Watari is a second year high school student who is trans and struggling to feel comfortable with his very rigidly structured life at school, at home, and among his friends (to whom he is not out.) By chance he meets Jin Sato, a cis boy who also feels outcast (often judged for his appearance without any deeper thought.) When Ryo comes out to Jin in a state of frustration, Jin accepts who Ryo is and makes an offer -- why not start a fashion line that subverts all the expectations that have been put on them both; why not express themselves even when they’ve been told they shouldn’t. Warnings: Ryo is struggling with gender dysphoria, and it is written by someone who has probably experienced it, so it might be a little real for any trans folks who deal with that. Also, while neither the narrative nor Jin misgender Ryo (at least, not once he expresses to Jin that he is a man), Ryo is not out to anyone else and so he frequently is misgendered at school and we see how badly that impacts him and the way he views himself and processes his emotions. Ryo spends a lot of time being angry and trying to swallow it down, and that can be very raw to witness at times. There is also a depiction of unsafe binding (though the mangaka has an immediate note about binding safety, and goes further in-depth at the back of the manga.)

Our Dining Table by Mita Ori

okay, so I was a bit on the fence about whether or not I wanted to include this as a rec, but I decided that it might actually been what someone wants or needs, so here it is! while I really enjoyed this concept, and I’m always a sucker for found family stories (let me tell you I’m queer without telling you I’m queer, much?) it feels like this story is a bit rushed at times, and the romantic relationship between our protagonists is very blink and you’ll miss it. I don’t even want to call it subtle so much as it is just not remotely the focus of the story so it’s a little startling when it happens. but! if you’re looking for a story about adults processing grief and trauma together, and learning how to care for another person (and as a result, learning how to care for themselves,) this is a nice read that isn’t too heavy!  Status: Complete (one volume) Summary: Yutaka is a salaryman whose past experiences prevent him from reaching out to others, even through something so simple as sharing a meal. Despite this is REALLY loves to cook, and wishes he had a reason to do it more often. Then he meets Minoru, and his muuuuuch younger brother Tane (it’s like a 17 year age gap between the brothers?) and finds himself teaching them how to cook, and overcoming his fear of eating in front of others. Warnings: Good news, there’s no overt homophobia in this story! Bad news, the other trauma makes up for it! We have a lot of trauma surrounding parental death, childhood bullying, and adoption; in addition to an actual fear of eating in front of others.

Our Dreams at Dusk / Shimanami Tasogare by Yuhki Kamatani

this is the first manga series I collected, and I’m still very pleased about that. the art is ABSOLUTELY stunning? the use of visual imagery and surreal analogies to explain queerness is fucking on POINT. I cried so hard during a couple of these volumes I developed a migraine. I only have one piece of critique on the whole thing (addressed in the warnings,) and I intend to do another re-read when I’m ready for the catharsis of sobbing into my pillow again. Like Boys Run The Riot, Our Dreams at Dusk is drawn and written by a member of the queer community (a non-binary mangaka, this time,) and as a result it hits pretty fucking close to home in a lot of ways. while I really love this series it’s super not for the faint of heart, you WILL come out of this reading experience with some things to unpack. Status: Completed (4 volumes; 4 translated) Summary: We mostly follow Tasuku Kaname, as he is outted at school by a classmate as being homosexual, and his initial despair and subsequent journey of acceptance. In this process, Tasuku finds himself at a drop-in center, which seems to primarily function as a safe space for queer people; we meet several lesbians, an elderly gay man, a trans character, and a young character who isn’t ready for any kind of label because they are still ??? about themselves and their identity. Each of these “secondary” characters is given room to breathe and to work through difficulties of their own while Tasuku watches and learns that even though life is hard sometimes, there’s beauty to be found in one’s own strength. Warnings: hoooo boy; well there’s all kinds of homophobia and transphobia; a character is outted against their will (multiple times), there’s some really insidious transphobia covered by “concern”, there’s internalized homophobia everywhere, and a very complicated asexual character whose presentation left me (as an ace) with super mixed feelings and a lot of frustration (though I wouldn’t call it bad necessarily; just wanted to put that out there for my fellow asexual folks.) If you have read (or go on to read!) any of these, please let me know! I’d love to chat about the stories, and hear your thoughts on them -- because we’re a broad/diverse community and our own experiences shape us differently and give us different insights. <3 ANYWAY, for those of you who read this monstrous self-indulgent post, thank you! Feel free to add any queer manga you’ve been reading below - I’m always on the hunt for more recs!

#happy pride #manga recs #gay representation #queer representation #trans characters #asexual characters #gay characters #everything in-between tbh

[joealwyndaily]

Joe Alwyn (Class of 2009)

source

After leaving City in 2009, Joe Alwyn went on to read English and Drama at University of Bristol before heading to The Royal Central School of Speech & Drama- securing shortly after his big-break as Billy Lynn in Netflix’s film of the same name. From there on, he has had leading roles alongside Nicole Kidman and Olivia Colman in the films ‘Boy Erased’ and ‘The Favourite’- the latter winning Best British Film at the BAFTAs.

Whilst quarantining in the US, Joe was interviewed by Louis and Erik (Junior Sixth), this was first published in The eCitizen in May 2020.

What are your fondest memories from City?

I have a lot of good memories from school. I loved being in the heart of the city, right by the Thames. I had a lot of good teachers, and I was lucky enough to make friends with people that I still speak to now, every day. It was a good time to be there. I loved the sport that it offered and I played football throughout. I loved the Art department and the teachers there. There was a freedom to explore and leave the building and do your own thing. I think I owe the Art department a lot of stolen pens, and maybe a few hours of ducking out of class and lying on the roof of the school in the sun. It was the people though - the teachers, and of course my classmates - that made my time there what it was.

Which teachers are most memorable to you, and why?

There are a few teachers that have stuck with me. Mr Keates, our English teacher… He thought (and taught) outside the box and ‘against’ the syllabus in the best way. It was unconventional and refreshing and I liked it a lot. Mr Biltcliffe (and Joe, in the technical department) ran Drama and I loved that class. Mr Pomeroy in the Art Department was excellent. I only did one year of Spanish, but there was a teacher, Senor Cruz, who used to jump on the tables and make a lot of noise. Mr Dowler, who used to try and make me cut my hair short. (At the end of every school report there would be a message from Mrs Ralph: ‘Ps. Joe: get a haircut’). Mr Chamberlain, who we used to lock out of the classroom to try and delay maths. Mr Cornwall who ran sports. I was a defender, and I was asked to play for the First XI football team a year early, I think. I scored an own goal. It was the only goal I ever scored for City.

Were you involved much in Drama at City?

I actually wasn’t too heavily involved in extra-curricular Drama at school. I took it for GCSE and A-level, and loved that, but I wish I’d taken more advantage of the facilities beyond. There was a great theatre at school. I’m not sure why I didn’t do more. It was something that I knew I enjoyed, but part of me shied away from that side of things… perhaps because I played a lot of sport, and that took up a fair amount of time.

I knew at school that I wanted to do this, but I didn’t know how to go about getting there. As far as I knew nobody else wanted to be an actor, and so there wasn’t really a clear road-map on how achieve it! I largely kept it to myself. I would look up Drama Schools online and think about applying, but almost like a secret. In fact, I ended up going to Bristol University first - which I loved – and it was only after going there that I applied to Drama School and was accepted.

How did you get into acting?

I grew up watching a lot of films and going to the theatre. I always wanted to be a part of that world. My own involvement, or realisation that this was what I wanted to do, was gradual though. There wasn’t really a lightbulb moment, or not one that I remember. I studied it at school…performed a lot at university in what were probably some terrible, terrible productions (but great experiences) …and then went to Drama School. It was getting into Drama School that really made me think that I can do this. It was a really big moment for me.

What was your first major role?

I was very lucky with how things started. It was quite early in my final year of training, and I’d just signed with an agent from my showcase. I was sent a self-tape – an audition – for a film called ‘Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk’. Ang Lee was the director. I’d never really made a self-tape before, but I got some friends to tape me doing a scene during a lunch break. Within a few days they brought me over to New York to meet Ang and the casting director. I then went through about 10 days of testing in New York and Atlanta. I’d never been to America before but had always wanted to go. It was very surreal and it happened very quickly. I’d grown up watching Ang’s films (Life of Pi, The Ice storm, Brokeback Mountain, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon). They cast me right after that trip, and I only had a few days to pack my things before leaving for military bootcamp. I left school and spent the next few months filming in Atlanta. I played ‘Billy’, a young Texan Soldier, a ‘war hero’, returning home from Iraq for a victory tour in the United States. It was a completely amazing experience, especially to be thrown into as my first job.

What has been favourite acting job so far?

‘Billy Lynn’ has been my favourite job for many reasons, but there are others too that I’ve really enjoyed. I loved being a part of a film called ‘The Favourite’. That was a very special, unique experience.

Yorgos Lanthimos, who you worked with on The Favourite, is known for his extremely odd movies such as The Lobster and Dogtooth. What is it like working with such a unique director?

Yorgos is fantastic, and completely singular. He’s very different from Ang… but they’re both strong auteurs. Yorgos is very unconventional in terms of direction. He doesn’t give a lot away. He doesn’t ‘direct’ you in a way that you expect, whatever that might mean. To be honest I’m not sure how he does it, but it works! He has a real aesthetic and vision though, and creates a really nice environment on set. There was a brilliant cast and team of people on ‘The Favourite’, and it was amazing to be a part of.

You have played extremely complex characters, especially in films like Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk and Boy Erased. How do you work on your character development?

I suppose it depends on the nature of the project. Something like Billy Lynn was very intense – it was a long shoot and I was there for a long time. We went through military bootcamp, had a dialect coach, physically bulked up etc. I was also in a new country for the first time, with a new group of people. It was quite immersive, I suppose. It depends on who you’re playing and the story you’re telling. I watched a lot of documentaries (there’s a great one called ‘Restrepo’), read a lot of books, talked to military advisers, soldiers with PTSD... And of course, a lot of conversations with the director. It really depends though. I think I’m still working it out. It’s something that shifts each time. You make mistakes and you learn something new each time.

Boy Erased I really enjoyed being a part of, but I had less to do there. I knew I was kind of being brought in for one big, important moment in the film… and so a lot of it centred around the psychology of that event, and why this boy behaved the way he did.

Now living in the States, what do you miss most about London?

I live in London! I spend quite a bit of time in America, but London is still my home.

How are you finding quarantine? What impact has it had on the acting industry?

It’s very odd! Trying to stay busy, but also enjoying a slower pace and not worrying too much when things drift (which they do). Reading, watching old films, talking to friends. Zoom meetings. Skype calls. Just today actually, I had a Zoom call with my closest friends from school. I’m not in London at the moment but I’ve loved seeing these videos of everyone clapping for the NHS.

In terms of the industry, everything has sort of shut down. I was supposed to start a job this month in UK but that’s had to push back. I’m not sure when things will start up again, or how this will change things going forward. I think it’s going to be tricky for while…but there’ll be a way through.

Obviously, The eCitizen is the least of your press commitments. How have you found media attention?

It depends a bit on how much you choose to engage with it, and where it’s coming from. Maybe what’s strange is that media attention is an abnormal thing, and the implication of the attention is that something abnormal has happened to you… But actually, whilst I can see that some things have changed in my life, ultimately, I feel the same as I ever did.

It is old Citizen tradition for interviewees to finish with a joke...

What time does Sean Connery go to Wimbledon?

Tennish.

#joe alwyn #interview

[chocolatemin]

word count: 7.3k

genre: soulmate au, fantasy, fluff, angst

synopsis: It's been two years, and you still hasn't met your soulmate while everyone did, leading you to think that you are unfortunate and will probably live alone for the rest of your life, and your friend always on the go to help you and cheer you up, helping you feel a little less lonely, would you be able to overcome the loneliness or will your soulmate finally show up?

They say, once you turn sixteen, you’ll be able to find out your soulmate and the only connection with them is through your dream, except there’s one thing you won’t remember about your soulmate: their name, unless you have already met in person. Some are eager and excited to turn sixteen, ready to meet their soulmate; the others are terrified, especially those in a relationship, not wanting to leave their partner behind, afraid that their soulmate will not love them just as or more than their current partner. However, the case for you seems different, you haven’t seen your soulmate, never, in one of your dreams, and now, you are eighteen and still waiting for your soulmate to appear in your dream.

“Say, Kai, you’ve met your soulmate, right?” You ask your seatmate without sparing a glance and continue scribbling on your notebook while waiting for the last period to end.

“Yeah, you still haven’t met yours?” Huening Kai mumbles in a quiet voice, just enough for you to hear, not wanting to get caught.

“I just want to ask what it is like to meet them. What did you feel the first time your soulmate appeared?” 

“Didn’t you ask that for a hundred times already?” Your seatmate almost turned his head to you, confusion taking over his features, he meant no harm and he wanted to pat your back, he just didn’t want you to keep being insecured at him. 

“I want to experience that too.” Your shoulders slump and you heave a sigh which Huening Kai caught from his peripheral vision, he couldn’t endure you being sad and sneakily place his left hand on your back, giving you a pat, “I know you’ll meet them soon, trust me.” Turning your head to his direction, you saw him smiling at you. You can’t help but to return the smile, feeling a bit better. How can you just ignore his contagious bright smile?

Minutes passing felt like an eternity while your professor continued his lecture. You hear the bell ring, signalling your professor for dismissal. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice the professor leaving the room and your classmates standing up to fix their things. You stare blankly at your notebook while you slowly tap your pen continuously. You hear a loud sound of a dropped object  from your right, causing you to flinch and turn your head, “Thank goodness you’re back!” Huening Kai shook his head while he fixed his things inside his bag, lips forming into a thin line, “Why must you slam your bag on the table? You could’ve tapped my shoulder,” You stood up from your seat, finally arranging your belongings.  

“I wanted to try something different today,” he giggles before making a peace sign with his hand, you shake your head and he laughs at your reaction, “I thought, tapping your shoulder might not work anymore. Well, recently, I’ve been tapping your shoulders for about three to five times and you still don’t snap out of your trance.”

“Wait, did our professor give homework?” You asked, slinging your bag on your shoulder, tilting your head to the side. 

“Nope.”

“Thanks for walking me home, Kai.” You elbow the young man beside you lightly, while your hands are fixed on the straps of your bag on your side. You turn your heel to face him with a faint smile on your face, the young man beside you returns the smile and nod, “That’s what best friends are for!”

“Head home safely.”

“Our houses are literally beside each other!” 

“Oops, I forgot.” 

You fished the key from your pocket and inserted it to the door, you heard a soft click and entered. “I’m home!” You spoke loudly while you took off your shoes before heading to your room. 

You drop your bag to the chair and let out a sigh as the feeling of loneliness still lingers in your heart, shaking your head and you make your way to the bathroom to take a quick shower. The warm water hitting your skin gently soothes your uneasy mind and aching heart, and slowly helps you forget about your worry for a while. You hear knocks from the door of your room followed by the calm voice of your mother, “Come down, sweetie. The dinner’s ready.” 

“I’ll be there in a minute!” You yelled from the bathroom, quickly wrapping your body with a towel, before jumping out of the shower, heading to the mirror to dry your hair swiftly. You wore a light blue pair of pyjamas, with cherries as its design, one of your favorites. You quietly head outside your room and rush downstairs, not wanting to keep everyone waiting. 

The dinner is awfully quiet, no one dared to speak, probably having their bad days too. You are used to this, even though this does not occur quite often, you tried striking a conversation before and failed nonetheless, so you did not bother to try anymore. You volunteered to wash the dishes, so that they can rest early and prevent them to start bickering at each other on how tired they were and arguing over who's going to wash the dishes. You carefully dry the plates before placing them on the cabinet and removing the apron after.

You turn off the lights on your way to your room and go to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You plop down on your bed, your body facing towards the ceiling and your thoughts instantly wander on your soulmate, questions start to fill your head. From questions such as: 'Why hasn't my soulmate shown up in my dreams? It's already been like two years?'; 'I'll be turning college in the next few months and I still haven't met my soulmate, would I feel out of place?'; 'Will someone make fun of me for not being able to meet my soulmate yet?' to 'Do I even have a soulmate to begin with?'

Tears start to fill your vision, causing it to become blurry and your breathing gradually becoming uneven. You sob quietly, burying your hands on your face, not wanting the world to see you crying over this thing, not wanting the world to pity you. After about twenty minutes of crying to yourself, sleepiness started making its way on you.

"Why are you crying?" Your head immediately turns to find the owner of the voice, "W-who are you?" You are confused, you were just in your bed minutes ago, and now you are sitting on grass near a lake.

"It doesn't matter, answer my question first." Your eyes traveled to the forest on your right, where the deep, honey voice came from. "Where are you?"

Seconds passed and you did not receive an answer, you cleared your throat, "It was a bad day." You turn to face the lake in your front before lowering your head, loneliness starts to creep up on you and tears slowly brimming in your eyes, just being reminded of your day adds up to the dread you are feeling, you covered your face in frustration.

You feel a warm hand over your shoulder and hear a shuffling noise beside you, "Who are you?"

"Your soulmate, Kang Taehyun."

You immediately turn your head to him, looking like an absolute mess; eyes raw from crying, tear-stain and flushed cheeks, seeing your soulmate looking like an actual angel or something straight out of a comic book, almost surreal-- his eyes are big and pretty, a perfect nose, and soft, pink lips, made you self-conscious and embarrassed, “Sorry, you have to see me like this in our first meeting.” He shook his head and gave you a smile, you noticed that he has dimples on both sides, making him even more handsome. He brought his hand over your face, caressing your cheeks before wiping off your tears using his thumb and inched closer to you. 

"I'm so happy to finally meet you, I've been waiting diligently for you to show up." You spoke softly, voice almost cracked, your throat became dry due to crying.

"I'm glad, but it was my fault, I've been a coward. I couldn't bring myself to get out and stop hiding behind the trees," Taehyun sighed, ashamed of his cowardice, "I understand if you get mad at me... I am so sorry." Without further thinking, you get on your knees before wrapping your arms around his shoulder, shifting the weight to Taehyun that caused him to lose his balance and you both fell to the ground, with your body on top of his. Taehyun placed his arms around your waist and he whispered an apology.

"I can't be mad at you, but I'm hurt. I forgive you though, I am rather thankful that you finally stepped out of that forest," you nuzzle your head further on his neck, "I thought I was alone all the time and something was wrong with me for not being able to meet my soulmate."

Taehyun gently strokes your hair, something that really annoys you if anyone does that, but to your surprise, Taehyun doing it makes you feel safe and cared for. After some time of talking and cuddling as you both lie down on grass, you did not notice that the continuous stroking of your hair is already lulling you to sleep, unconsciously making you close your eyes, and the last thing you heard before the pitch black darkness pull you to a deep slumber was Taehyun's muffled voice.

"Good night, my soulmate."

“Good morning, Kai Kamal Huening!” 

The greeting took your best friend by surprise, furrowing his eyebrows at you, you can’t help but to laugh at the funny face he made, “Wow, you seem to be in a good mood today.” 

“Of course! Why shouldn’t I?” You broke into a wide grin. Huening Kai couldn’t hide the smile forming on his face, it’s been a while since the last time he saw you happy and smiling widely. Taking the bus, it took you a good twenty minutes to arrive early, just as usual, earning more time for the both of you to chit-chat. Huening Kai learned that you met your soulmate last night, he was glad and happy for you. 

“It is nice seeing you all bubbly and giddy,” you look up to Huening Kai, who is sitting across you, taking a bite of his food, you can hear the sincerity in his voice, “it’s been quite a long time since you last talked a lot. I’m happy for you.” 

“Thanks for cheering me up whenever I needed it.” 

“Don’t mention it. I got you.” 

The day passed, without you noticing that it’s already your last period for the day, except you were in a different class from Huening Kai today. You listened intently to the professor, taking down notes, making sure that you only included the important parts, it is your favorite subject anyway. 

“Greeks believed that in the beginning, there were three parents: Sun, Moon, and Earth. From the Sun was produced the man; from earth, the woman; from the Moon, the androgyne. Each of these three was a double, one head with two faces looking out in opposite directions, four arms and legs, and two sets of genitalia.”

“Humans were very powerful creatures, fearless and strong, and even dared to threaten the Gods. They threatened to conquer them and rule in their stead and become the new Gods.”

“According to the Greek Philosopher Plato: Gods feared their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”

Yedam, the genius of the class, raised his hand before standing up, “But Sir, the humans lived in despair, they started to starve themselves to death. And Apollo was instructed to rejoin them temporarily and moved their genitals to the belly side of the body.” 

Yedam went back to his seat, Professor Choi cleared his throat, “Yes, that is right. So, he sewed them up, reconstituted their body forms and just left the navel as the only reminder of their original form,” taking a short pause, “humans went from double face and double sex creatures with eight limbs, to single faced ones of a single sex, with two arms and two legs. And they forever longed for their soul and physical other half. ”

Everyone went ‘ooh’, fascinated by the theory.

“Not only that, and according to the myth, when these two halves find each other, there will be a silent understanding of one another, they will feel joined and exist with each other in unison and they will know no greater joy than that.” 

“Whether this Soulmate story is purely a myth, or there is some truth in it, we’ll never know, but please respect each other’s belief.” Professor Choi beamed a smile before gathering his books, carrying them in his left arm, “Do you have any questions?”

“None, sir.” Your class answered in chorus.

“Well then, I hope you learned a lot, or even a thing or two from our lesson. We’ll have a test next meeting, don’t pressure yourselves too much. Just do your best, alright?”

“Yes, Professor Choi.”

“You are now dismissed. See you, class. Head home safely.” Professor Choi waved before leaving the room.

Professor Choi always treated his students like children of his own, he always shows his students that he cares, and that he can be trusted with their problems. He gives advice whenever a student approaches him to talk about a problem; whether a relationship problem, problems regarding oneself or even family problems. That is the reason he is your favorite among all your subject teachers. You gather your things, leaving the classroom to wait for your best friend outside the building. You are still mesmerized by the lesson, walking obliviously, you didn’t notice that you already reached your meeting place. You feel a hand grab your arms, regaining your self, you look up to see who it is.

“Oh, Kai.” 

“Watch where you’re going, your mind is wandering far away again.” Huening Kai shakes his head.

“By the way, do you have any plans tomorrow?” You asked, having a hard time catching up to Huening Kai’s long strides, “But importantly, can you slow down? You are walking so fast.”

“It’s not my fault your legs are short.” Huening Kai retorted, erupting into a fit of giggles, you smack his arm, “You’re just too tall!” You yelled, earning a laugh from your best friend, that sooner slows down so that you could keep up to him, “You haven’t answered my question, are you hiding something from me?” You eyed him suspiciously, giving him a glare which he stammered in response, you notice how his cheeks instantly turn crimson.

“Is there anything to hide from you?” The young man beside you snickered, “I was just thinking of what I should buy tomorrow for my soulmate. So in case we meet one day, I have something for her. What about you?”

“Oh, right, your family is going on a two-day trip tomorrow. Don’t forget to buy me a souvenir!” You beamed a smile, “My plans for tomorrow are to eat and to sleep.”

“Yeah, you would say that.” 

"Taehyun, don't you find the concept of forgetting your soulmate's name every morning absurd?" Sitting beside each other, you lean your head over to his shoulder, grabbing his hand, intertwining it with yours.

"Not really."

"Oh, why?"

"I think that keeps the enthusiasm high and thrill on finding your soulmate. You'd be very excited to meet your soulmate, not only because you will finally see them, but also to finally remember their name, without forgetting it."

"You do have a point."

"The only thing we forget every morning is just each other's name, but not the memory of what happened."

"Yeah, you're right."

Using your free hand, you started to fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you try to recall your dreams. You have not thought that through, why did you realize that just now? Since Taehyun appeared in your dreams, you haven't forgotten a single thing, all the memories are fresh and vivid from the time you wake up and up until now.

Having him around gives a pleasant feeling, like a cool morning breeze in spring and the scent of chamomiles. Taehyun was always gentle and thoughtful, straightforward but caring. He is the epitome of perfection, though no one is perfect, but Taehyun seems to surpass the known saying. It's been quite a long time since you two have met, you've been constantly meeting each other for about a month now. You envied your best friend for being able to meet his soulmate in person, the day his family went on a trip. Not only did he buy you lots of souvenirs but he also brought lots of stories, including how he met his soulmate.

"Do you think we'll be able to see each other soon?"

"Of course, why do you ask?"

"I just can't wait to see you. I bet you are far more handsome in person than in our dream." You chuckle lightly to hide the embarrassment, you mentally slap yourself from the slip of the tongue.

Taehyun laughs before shaking his head, he then pulls you into his lap, hugging your body while his other hand plays with your hair. One thing you learned during one month is that Taehyun is clingy. He loves affection, he loves touching you: pulling you closer to snuggle, holding your hand, leaning his head on your shoulder, caressing your hair, and so on. You find it cute and endearing.

"I don't want this dream to end." You speak softly, feeling the drowsiness make its way to you, "I want to stay for a bit longer."

You yawn, burying your head further against his chest, you can feel his chest rising up and down slowly.

"Neither do I, but we have to. Oh, and you have a test on your first subject right?"

"Yes, I did study but I'm not confident."

"I know you'll ace the test."

"You have more faith in me than I have for myself," you laugh before continuing, "can I get a good luck at least?"

"Do you think you'll be able to perfect the test now?" You can hear the smugness on his voice.

"You're getting ahead of yourself."

"Am I really?" Taehyun mocked.

"I was going to say that first, but here you go." You feel a warm sensation and a fuzzy feeling in your chest as Taehyun places a gentle, lasting kiss on the top of your head, your face immediately heats up from your soulmate's bold move. Sighing in defeat, "Yes, I do feel confident now."

"That's my girl."

"Yah! Kai Kamal Huening! Wait for me!"

"Quiet down, the whole city can hear your voice!"

"Why are you walking like that?"

Struggling to keep up with the tall lad, you walked behind him instead while holding onto his backpack.

"I'm in a hurry today, I have a formal dinner to attend to. Don't you remember?"

"Pancakes, we could've taken a bus!"

"Why didn't I think of that earlier?"

You rolled your eyes, irritated by your friend's amazing life choice. Shaking your head, you jog beside him, "You know what? You'll get home all sweaty anyway."

"So, what are you trying to say?"

"I couldn't let this chance slip away!" You hear Huening Kai's voice from behind as he chases after you.

Smiling to yourself, "the last one to reach our neighbourhood has to pay for the food the next time we hangout!" You smiled cheekily before sprinting off, the cold breeze slipping past your body.

Luckily, the two of you are already quite near your neighbourhood, making it easier for you to win. You huffed from the lack of air, taking heavy breaths after stopping on your tracks.

"Hey! You cheated!" Heuning Kai spoke, panting heavily, clutching on his knees as he inhaled air.

"You always say that whenever you lose to me!" You turn to face Huening Kai.

"No, it's because you always cheat!"

"Just accept your defeat!" You laugh, patting his shoulder.

"I want another round!"

"Fine. The first to reach one's house will get to decide where to eat, and the last will have to pay."

"Sounds good." Huening Kai nods.

"3... 2... 1!"

Both of you dashed all the way to your houses. You feel your legs giving out, tired from running, but you cannot lose to that competition, you paid for both of you last time, you couldn't let your wallet suffer again, especially to the hands of your best friend. He purposely picks the expensive food, just to annoy you, since you cannot say no. It's time for you to get back to him.

"I'm first!" You and Huening Kai yelled in unison, you turn to face each other while standing in front of each other's houses, shock evident on your faces.

"No! Me!" You both speak at the same time.

"No! It's me!" Huening Kai sticks his tongue out to you, until, "Inside. Now."

You both turned your heads to the owner of the voice and saw Huening Kai's mother, standing in an elegant dress at the doorstep, with an annoyed expression.

"Auntie, sorry for bringing Kai late. I asked him to wait for me." You went over to Kai and bowed down to her mother, you sneakily nudged the guy beside you and he muttered thanks under his breath.

"Ah, is that so? I understand, you shouldn’t be left walking alone at night."

"I'm sorry for causing trouble, auntie."

Huening Kai's mother shook her head then smiled at you, "No, it's all good. I'm glad to hear that Hyuka is being responsible."

"I believe you should get going now, Kai." He nods before giving you a wave, parting ways with you.

You smile at his mom and bow once more, before heading back to your house. It must be nice to grow up in a wealthy family, you thought.

Putting the unnecessary thoughts away, you make your way to your room, just as usual, dropping off your bag on the chair and head to the bathroom to wash your body. Somehow, you didn't feel like eating, besides, your parents are away until tomorrow night, you don't really have to force yourself to eat. It's not that you are too lazy to cook for yourself, but there is something inside you that makes you feel uneasy and empty.

I wonder what it is.

Draping the blanket over your body, you took one last glance on the clock, which says 9:45, after finishing all your homework and studying, you can now finally get some rest. Your legs ache due the p.e. class today and all the running on your way home.

You closed your eyes, drifting into dreamland.

You spotted Taehyun sitting cross-legged on your usual spot, his back facing you, “Looks like you slept with your uniform on,” you sat on his left, nudging his side, giggling.

“Well yeah, I knocked out as soon as my body came in contact with the bed,” Taehyun scratched the back of his head.

“That’s fine, you must be tired, eh?” You motioned him to move closer to you, “Why don’t you rest your head on my lap?”

“That’s a good idea,” Taehyun smiled before laying down on the grass, resting his head on your lap. You gently caress his soft locks, trying not to burst from the fuzzy feeling and butterflies erupting in your stomach, and a comforting silence enveloped the both of you.

Minutes passed and you are startled by Taehyun, who suddenly jolted up from his position, turning to face you, “I just remembered, I was supposed to show you something!” Taehyun looks adorable, his eyes twinkling, and his mouth agape.

“Really, what is it?” Taehyun gestured you to get up, offering you his hand which you gladly took.

“Something I found there,” he says as he points towards the forest, “don’t worry, it’s not scary there.” He pulls you beside him, his arm draped over your shoulder as you enter the forest. You realize that it isn’t really scary inside, as the moon is brightly illuminating the path, and is rather mystical, there are floating balls of different colored lights around and even fireflies.

You notice something glowing in the middle of the forest, “What’s that?”

He squints his eyes towards the glowing light, “Wait, let me take a closer look at it first,” he signals you to step aside and wait for him as he takes careful steps towards the object.

“Oh, this is really beautiful,” he turned his head to you, “come over here!”

“Wow, that’s a really pretty flower. Is this the thing you wanted to show me?” You ask.

“Yes, but it looks different now, it isn’t glowing the last time I saw it.” He turns to face you, extending his hand to you, “May I hold your hand?”

You smile, placing your hand over his, but instead, your hand passed through his.

Taehyun looks at you, completely taken aback, “What was that?!” 

He stepped closer to you, moving his hand over to your cheek, and you saw how his hand slipped through. 

“What is happening?” You took a few steps back. 

“I don’t know... let’s try again.” This time it is you, pulling him to a hug but fails.

“Why can’t I touch you?” You asked, heart thumping loudly in your chest, you don’t feel good about this.

“Look! The moon is disappearing! We have to wake up now!” Taehyun pointed his hand to the moon that is currently fading while the two of you get dizzy, your surroundings disappearing to the void of darkness.

“Taehyun-”

Taehyun’s eyes flutter open, a heavy feeling lingering on his heart. He slid his hand inside his pocket and took out a piece of paper, “Why are the letters all messed up?” Trying to recall the memory, he remembered writing his soulmate’s name on the paper, along with a number, 1107, using a pen from his other pocket,  “but I can clearly read the date.. Why is that?” 

Taehyun got up from his bed to prepare for the day, putting aside the uneasy feeling, hoping that things will go back to normal later.

On the other hand, you are currently lying on your bed, distracted by the recent happening. You can’t seem to figure out the reason why you cannot touch your soulmate, it happened too fast, you were just walking through the woods, holding each other, and in a snap, your hands were already passing through each other's bodies.

Kai kept rambling beside you on your way to school but every word he said had gained no attention from you, it was just passing through your other ear and went out with your other ear.

"Why am I still talking? You're not even listening."

"Oh, sorry, what was it again?"

"I asked if you and your parents are free later, Mom kept insisting-- no, bugging me to ask you to have dinner with us this week."

"Oh, have you forgotten? They're out until later night. Maybe on Saturday?" You turn your head to his direction and you see him nod.

"Well then, it's settled. Saturday night at 8. I'll just message Mom later." Huening Kai stuffed his hand into his pockets.

"Alright, tell her I really miss her cooking." You waved before parting ways, heading to your first class for the day.

You really tried your best to listen to what your prof has to say, but no, your mind wouldn't let you. Suddenly, you felt your phone vibrate from your pocket, glancing around you, you then pulled your phone to see the notification. It is from the one and only, Huening Kai. You shook your head before reading the text.

Huening Cat: this class is rlly boring istg!!

You: omg stop messaging me!!

Huening Cat: no i wont :ppp

You: i'm not a delinquent like u

You immediately hid your phone in your pocket again, picking up your pen, back on taking notes. You feel your phone vibrating non-stop, Kai is spamming you messages and you're getting annoyed.

Thankfully, the class is almost finished, all you need to do is wait for a few more minutes. Just as the professor stepped out of your room, you pulled out your phone and saw thirty three unread messages from your best friend, majority of those are nonsense and lame jokes until you read the last message.

Huening Cat: I've heard there will be a transfer student next week. Wanna bet things?

You: can't u just stop messaging me? classes are literally ongoing u dolphin :P

He didn't reply after that and is probably heading to the lab for his chemistry class. Of course, you had each other's schedules memorized.

You sat down on your usual table, near the window. Poking a hole using the straw, you sipped on your favorite drink, strawberry milk, while you waited for your Kai to arrive. You saw him enter the cafeteria, busy eyes scanning for you, you ducked, trying to hide but failed, soon saw your friend already walking towards your seat with a smile placed on his handsome face.

"You look like an idiot."

"So do you, excuse you," you roll your eyes at him.

"How come I am too?" He pulls the chair, settling down across your seat.

"Nothing in particular, you just look like one," you laugh while he makes a sign that he is going to flick your forehead but it was just a threat.

"I heard it's a guy," Kai spoke out of the blue.

"Where did that even come from?"

"Our prof accidentally spilled the tea," he giggles cutely, "it was really funny. The look on Professor Suh– he was even surprised."

"I think you should stop using the bird app for a while, you're using too much slang in one day," you shook your head, smile forming on your face, "but I can imagine Professor Suh looking very surprised."

"Maybe he forgot to drink his coffee?"

You try to suppress a laugh from Kai's remark, Professor Johnny Suh has been quite popular in your school, not only for his good looks and being a great prof but because his family owns a coffee shop near your school and his father is in charge of brewing and making delicious kinds of coffees, and students often drop by there every morning.

The day went smoothly than you imagined, having no interruptions and all, you weren't distracted by the happening last night, the feeling still lingers but you somehow learned a lot and managed to get high scores on your surprise tests. Unfortunately, Kai had to stay for a while in the indoor court for their upcoming basketball match next month for a meeting and it was an urgent one, so you are here walking home all by yourself. You are kind of missing your friend's annoying voice but you aren't feeling lonely, there were times in the past like this. Kicking the pebble in front of your house, you stepped inside the house with heavy steps.

No one knows this little habit of yours whenever your parents are not around– skipping dinner. It makes you feel lonely, dining by yourself, and you didn't want to feel that. After drying your hair, you went straight to bed, looking forward to what your dream has to offer tonight, despite the occurrence, though you are quite unsettled and unsure.

You see Taehyun, standing near the lake, looking up to the moon with his hands inside his pockets.

Grinning, "Taehyunie!"

He feels his heart skip a beat from the nickname, blush automatically creeping up to his face, "Oh hey, angel," a smile makes its way to Taehyun's face.

You rush to him with your arms open wide, ready to tackle him with a hug, but instead, you fall to the ground, face first.

"My angel! Are you hurt?" You look up to see Taehyun offering his hand to you which you tried taking but just like last night, your hand slipped through his. So instead, you stood up all by yourself.

"No, I'm okay," you shook your head laughing off the embarrassment, "what happened by the way?"

"It seems like we can't still touch each other, I saw you running towards me and I didn't even budge but I am surprised that I wasn't able to catch you," Taehyun looked down, disappointment in his eyes.

"Don't worry I'm fine-"

"This isn't fine, I cannot hold you, you cannot hold me, and this is our only way of seeing each other." Taehyun interrupted your sentence, you can feel how hurt he is.

"Everything will be okay, soon." You try to console him, raising your hand to pat his back, but you realize that it won't work so you smiled instead.

"I hope so, because I can't really stand us being like this."

Before you could speak, your surroundings started to fade, pitch black engulfing the both of you.

"What is this?" You sound terrified.

The place lit up with cryptic messages kind of and you stepped closer to each other, bringing your hands over your chest. It looks like you are inside a computer system, your surroundings filled with incomprehensible letters in green, sort of a different language, and to be honest, it creeps you out. A message flashes in front you two.

"This is a notice to those who haven't met their soulmates,"

Your heart starts to beat crazily, the message too bad for your liking, you loathed the way it started, but even so, the next message shocked you the most.

"the soulmate system will vanish at 16:00, the day after tomorrow. Those who haven't met their soulmate in person until the last day will be free forever to love the person they want."

You glance at Taehyun and see him with his mouth agape, obviously shocked too, his eyes glinting utter disappointment and sadness.

"Signing off, the Creators."

Your surroundings gradually returned to how it used to be like, unlike the two of you, still left in shock. You cannot move, as if you are frozen on your spot, only after trying to regain your normal breathing pattern you become able to move.

"Okay, so what was that?! We won't be able to see each other anymore after that?" You turned to Taehyun, looking absolutely shocked and terrified at the same time.

"We need to be quick, we have to meet each other before the soulmate system disappears–" Taehyun pauses to meet your eyes, "unless you want to spend the rest of your life with me…"

"If only you want to…"

The last words are almost whispered, but you are still able to catch it with your ears.

Oh how badly you want to hold him right now.

"Of course, Taehyun. I want to."

You see him flash a bright smile contrasting with the sadness in his eyes, "We don't have much time left, I believe."

"I think so too. What are we going to do now? But I don't think we will be able to meet soon," You bit your lip, unsure of what to do.

Seconds pass and the atmosphere is getting heavy.

"I think we can do something about that," Taehyun smirked, as if he outsmarted a genius, "Don't worry, we'll be fine."

"Don't tell me-"

"Yes, my love, we are going to defy the system." Taehyun steps closer to you, one hand in his pocket and the other one pointing to the night skies.

"How are we going to do that?" You are curious about his idea.

"Let's just say I found a loophole in the system," Taehyun pulled a pen from his pocket, and you only notice now that he is wearing his uniform again, "last night, while I was waiting for you, I wrote your name on a piece of paper along with a date."

"The ink remained, however, I couldn't read your name, the letters are all messed up but the date."

"So that means, everything we brought to sleep, just like this pen, stays in our dream, and everything we take from here stays when we wake up."

"How did you know that?"

Taehyun got taken aback by your question, "Uh, I remember picking a flower before and when I wake up, I am still holding it," he scratches the back of his head.

"That's so cool!" You are amazed by Taehyun's discoveries.

"Yes, but that's not the point."

"Oh right, sorry." Taehyun just smiles at you.He wanted to pinch your cheeks because of how cute you are right now, but he knows better.

"So, back to what I'm saying, we can write anything, except our names and be able to see and read it when we wake up."

You nod, "And what is the plan?"

"We'll write a location on our arms, on where we are going to meet, in case our memory starts fading due to the removal of the soulmate system."

"Oh my god, Taehyun! You're a genius!" You exclaim.

"And since we don't have much time, we have to think right now."

You squint to see his school logo, "Oh, your school isn't that far from our school, I think we could meet up somewhere between the distance of our schools," you paused, contemplating if your question makes sense, "What time does your class end?"

"Around five pm."

"Mine ends at exactly four thirty. I think you can meet me somewhere nearer your school, since I have a bit more time than you."

"Should we meet at the park then?"

"That will do."

"Okay, so we can write that on our arms," Taehyun handed you the pen, and you proceeded to write the said location.

"Are you sure this will work?" You ask Taehyun as soon as you finish writing on your arm, handing him back the pen so he could write on his arm too.

"Not really, but there's no harm in trying, right?" Taehyun looked up to you, "This is the only solution I can think of."

"I trust you, Taehyun." You gave him a bittersweet smile, feeling your heart ache from the uncertainty, but Taehyun returned the smile nevertheless.

"Say you'll remember me, Taehyun," you feel tears welling up from your eyes, "If ever we fail, know that I will never forget you, my mind may forget, but heart never forgets." 

"I'll forever treasure our memories deep in my heart," you sobbed, eventually Taehyun does too, "it's such a shame we only had a month."

"That is my fault, I did not show up earlier." Taehyun wants to hold you, pull you to an embrace, place reassuring kisses on the crown of your head but he can't which makes the situation worse.

"Keep in mind, angel, I love--"

Your eyes shot open, feeling the hot tears streaming from your eyes. You cover your face with your hands, crying your heart out. It is too early to cry, and you still have classes to attend to but you couldn't care any less. You take a look at your arm and see that the location is still there, so you get up from your feet to write it on your notebook and prepare breakfast even if you are still crying. Your tears start drying out while you eat your breakfast and regain your composure as you finish. You did your usual routine and waited for Kai outside your house.

"Why are your eyes like that? Did you cry?" Huening Kai grabbed your arm, concern written all over his face. You shook your head, quickly dismissing off the question which Huening Kai understood. The walk is quiet, and rather heavy, but Huening Kai chose to stay silent, not wanting to force you to talk or speak up about the reason behind your puffy eyes.

Thankfully, no one dared to question what happened to your eyes because you held your head down as soon as you reached the room, and you are lucky you are sharing the first class with your best friend. And your soulmate is right, memories from last night became hazy the more you try to remember it, all you remember is that you won't be able to see him again in your dreams if you don't meet him later and writing on your arm is a really good idea. You can't relax even for a minute knowing that you won't be able to remember him at all if you failed to meet up before 6 pm. You told Huening Kai your situation during lunch break and you are uneasy throughout the day, Huening Kai can't help but to feel bad knowing that he couldn't lend you help. He won't be able to go with you since he has practice after class but you told him it's fine and that you understand, and you are old enough to walk alone. You promised to text him as soon as you get home.

You waited impatiently for your last class to finish, glancing on the clock from time to time, and as soon as your professor exited the room, you quickly gathered your things and rushed outside of your room. You texted Kai that you're on your way to the meeting place, taking a bus. By the time you reached the park, it was already five forty pm. You turned your head from side to side, looking for a sign of your soulmate. 

You tapped your feet nervously while you waited for your soulmate to arrive, heart pounding loudly in your chest. You feel your stomach churn from being anxious, you take a look on the time on your phone, 5:50 pm. Saying that you're not losing hope would be a lie, you feel your warm tears starting to pool in your eye, you can barely remember now why you decided to pick the park out of all the places you could've possibly meet. Just as you are about to burst and sob, you heard a soft voice from your right.

“Is that you?” You look up to see a familiar face, a familiar pair of eyes. You immediately knew who it was, rushing to him, “yes, it’s me, y/n.”

“It feels nice to finally meet you,” the brown haired lad stretched out his hand to you, “your soulmate, Kang Taehyun.”

The way he introduced himself seemed familiar to you, “this time, I wouldn't forget your name anymore,” you feel your tears streaming down your face, from all the emotions you are all feeling right this moment, “c-can I hug you?”

He chuckles, wiping your tears before pulling you into his embrace which you immediately melted on, brushing your hair using his right hand, “I love you, y/n.” You feel him place a soft kiss on your forehead and you feel your heart flutter, this time it wasn't a dream anymore.

You hear a loud striking sound of a grandfather clock ringing in your ears, causing you to flinch and step back from Taehyun's arms, “Did you hear that too?” You asked, glancing over to your sides to see if there's someone in the park aside from you and Taehyun. “Yes,” he glanced on his watch, “it's already 6:01, that must be the signal that the soulmate system vanishes forever.”

“Thank goodness we made it on time,” you flash a smile while you take his hand from his side, “Taehyun...” You saw him nod in anticipation to your next words.

“I’m in love with you,” your face heats up from your boldness, “and I’m glad I’d get to spend the rest of my life with you, my soulmate.”

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #baerry.txt #baerry.writes #angst #beomgyu #huening kai #soobin #txt #taehyun #yeonjun #taehyun imagines #taehyun scenarios #taehyun imagine #txt fluff #txt angst #txt imagine #txt scenario #txt au #kang taehyun #taehyun au #fluff #ana.txt #yeonjun imagines #soobin imagines #huening kai imagines #beomgyu imagine

[imsofthelp]

Eijirou Kirishima x f!reader

Category: angst

Warnings: suicide (nothing graphic) slight cursing, mentions of sex under the cut

Word count: 2,881

Summary: Kirishima's journey of learning how to live without you and the fault he feels for your decision.

A.n: This is told from Kirishima's POV, the character Daichi is completly random and has nothing to do with bnha lol. Things have been... Kinda bad lately, so I guess it's my way of ranting. Hope ya'll like it!

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

There’s a few Astilbes in a tall vase on my bedside table. There’s this sweet smell coming from them, but it’s masked by the scent of a strong vanilla cologne.

It’s cold in the room because I can’t make myself get up to close the window, which lets ice cold air from the darkness to leak in.

I’m talking with her on the phone while wrapping the phone charger around my finger, untangling then twirling it again. My fingers remembered it as a routine during the hour we spent talking.

Even if her words are joyful, even if she’s talking about how’s school been and how she spent today studying at this super cute coffee shop with her friends, her voice feels heavy. Heavy with something she doesn’t want to show me. Something that she tries to hide under her stuttering laugh and stories.

But I’m not stupid. I can hear hints of pain stabbing her in the “It was fun” like sharp knives, and her “My new classmates are awesome!” covered by a mask of longing.

I want to help her, but my throat is dry and my tongue feels like it’s tied. I am held back by my own insecurities and doubts - I don’t want her to think that I’m an idiot or that I’m not minding my own bussiness.

“Eijirou? You still there?” she asks, oddly calm.

I wake up from my little trance. It seems like I got lost in the halls of my mind again. I feel a bit guilty. Did she tell me something important?

“Sorry, I got carried away for a second,”

There’s silence on her end of the line. A sigh soon rolls off the silence. I screwed up again.

“No, it’s okay. Nothing important.”

I hold my breath. What did she say? The smartest thing to do right now is just ask her-

“I will go now. Thanks for the convo, though,”

My teeth catch my bottom lip and I bite it. Idiot. I’m a fucking idiot.

There’s silence staying on the phone with me for a while until a quiet beep announces the call ending.

I couldn’t really sleep that night.

Somewhere near midnight, the line between sleep and search for comfort within the spots of the celling, in the stripes of the wallpaper or the folds of the blanket, blurs.

I don’t know when did I fall asleep but I think I saw angels, or maybe, just soft rays of sun, flooding into the room through curtainless windows.

I’m thinking about her. I’m thinking about how’s her day going and if she got any new opportunities to join a big agency.

Calendar on the wall shows that today is 11th of April, 2022.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

Time as a pro-hero flies fast. Now I have a lot of problems, or maybe, just more than I had when I was at school. I don’t bother to remember the names or faces of people. Don’t want to.

Bakugou says that I’ve changed and that others are really worried, but I just bury myself in more work.

I can’t tell when a patrol starts and ends or the voices of villains and other heroes. It all blurs into one mess that lays on my shoulders like a dark cloud.

I come back home with an empty head and a full work shedule.

While I try to watch TV, not minding the buzzing on the other side of window and in my head, the bouquet of pink Camellias in the vase seem to stare at me.

I try not to mind themuntil a delicate petal falls on my arm. I don’t know how to keep flowers. Maybe I should stop buying them - they seem to not like my place.

I try to change the water, hoping that this would fix everything, and then I go back to mindessly watching tv.

I wait. Laying in my bed, a soft blanket wrapped around me as I desperately search for any warmth. I wait. Tick Tock.

Then there’s only one minute left of waiting and that minute soons ends as my phone rings, throwing me out of my endless thoughts.

“Hey!”

“Hello! How are you? How was hero work today?”

Her voice sounds different today. A lot brighter, like she has a smile on her face as she’s talking and I feel myself smiling too.

“It’s good, it’s good... Hero work is hard, as always. I’ve got a nasty case, dealing with some shitty drug dealers. It’d be better if you told me about your day.”

She stays quiet for a moment. It feels as if she’s holding her breath and, for a moment, I hold mine too. As if we’re underwater in our own safe bubble, where no one else can reach us.

“Everything’s very good. Great, even,” she finally answers and our bubble bursts.

“How did that audition go?”

“Uhm, I didn’t go.”

I frown, not even knowing what to say. She wouldn’t shut up about that audition, how the hero that ran it shared her opinions and ideals, how that place was just a dream, how-

“Why?” I trap all of my thoughts in that simple word.

“Just thought it wasn’t worth it,”

I wrap my finger around the phone charger and unwrap it again.

“Why?” I repeat my question again, dumbfounded.

“Dunno, maybe that place wasn’t that fit for me after all.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

After that silence follows. Then we talk some more about work, but it seems that conversation just doesn’t flow freely tonight. I drag it out like bubblegum that’s not meant to stretch this far.

“I’m coming back for a few days soon.”

I almost jump up. Don’t know if it’s from excitment or from shock. I haven’t seen her for a year.

“Wait, really?” I ask, finding it hard to believe.

“Yeah, and I have a huge favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“Could I crash at your place while I’m here?”

My heart jumps with excitment. She’s more than welcome to stay. My heart aches just at the thought about an opportunity to see her.

I suddenly remember that she’s still waiting for my answer.

“Yeah sure! Just give me a message when you have the date set.”

She sighs with relief,

“You’re the best, Eijirou.”

The way she says my name makes a blush creep up my checks,

“Don’t mention it.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Just like that, the call ends and I’m left with pleasant silence. Tonight I don’t feel lonely.

The calendar shows 11th of April, 2023.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

It’s a few weeks of waiting until she grants her promise. She stands at my door, more beautiful than ever and for a second, I doubt if that’s just a vision, but after she flashes one of her sunshine smiles I instantly know that she’s real. She’s there and she’s real.

I pull her into a tight embrace, burying my face in her hair. Words cannot describe how much I missed her.

I give her a bunch of red Chrysanthemums and I instantly knew it was worth getting to the flower shop so early in the morning - her smile lights up the room brighter than the sun ever could.

“I missed you, Eijirou,” the name rolls off her plump lips so softly. It gives me the feeling that if I do as much as breathe, I’ll shatter the moment.

We talk all day, watch some TV and then talk some more. The stars shine so bright tonight that we don’t even need lamps. It seems as if they’re enjoying our moment too.

She tells me countless stories and I want to hear each one of them over and over again, her voice makes me feel drunk off my mind.

She talks about struggling with living in a foreign country, about missing me and other friends, about everything that bothers her and I’m here to listen. Soon, I tell her all my secrets and we’re sitting in front of each other pulling away all of our lies.

I don’t know what events lead up to our next step. Truly, it’s all a blur and the only significant thing I can point out is the flowers, gently sitting in the tall glass vase.

We get rid of our clothes, the same way we got rid of our secrets just minutes ago. There’s nothing separating us now and we can and get drunk off each other’s bodies.

Making love with her is tender and sweet, with lots of praises and sweet nothings, she manages to whisper out.

I pause for a second, taking a moment to truly look at her and memorise every inch of her body. From the way her hair is draped on my pillow and her face is so calm, to the way her legs, wrapped around my waist try to pull me as close as possible.

We spend the night naked, flush against each other, finally free of everything. If only for a moment.

The calendar shows 14th of May, 2023.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

When my phone rings again, I’m putting a bunch of yellow Zinnias into the vase. The flowers that I had before them have already wilted so I threw them away.

I sigh, expecting another call from her brother, who suddenly became worried about her like two weeks ago, or maybe someone from the former Bakusquad.

When I see her name on my phone I pick it up faster than I never knew I could.

“Eijirou...”

I haven’t heard her voice in so long, it almost feels surreal. I want her to repeat my name, slowly, so that could remember every syllable she says and repeat it on my mind forever.

“Is everything okay? I was so worried!”

Her voice cracks. I hear a quiet sniffle that she tries to hide.

“No, actually... No... I don’t like it there, I want to go home.”

All the other emotion in my body are conquered by pain. It’s so good to hear her, but it hurts so much to hear her voice is filled with sorrow I wished she would never experience. I want her to come back. I don’t care how selfish it is.

“I can’t... You know I can’t,”

I blink. I want to tell her, but my tongue feels heavy and all my words begin to slur.

I wake up with a jump. My shirt is flushed against my back and my whole body is covered in goosebumps. I snake my arms around myself, desperately seeking any kind of warmth.

My phone is turned off and the calendar shows 11th of April, 2024.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

I put red and white striped Carnations in a vase. Flowers from before are dead, as always.

Work goes by the same as always and while I’m sitting down trying to finish tomorrow’s plans, I wait for a call.

Time goes by, but it doesn’t ring. Tick tock. She always calls at the same time.

She used to call at the same time, my mind corrects. I push that thought into the deepest part of my brain, never to be found again.

Tick tock. That’s how another hour goes by, filled with walking from one end of the room to the other and checking my phone again and again.

I don’t get a call.

The other three weeks are tense. The bags under my eyes are filled with darkness from staring at the windows during long, sleepless nights, searching for answers from the dark and dim stars. Answers that none of them want to give to me.

When I get a call, my clock shows that it’s almost 4am.

“Y/N?” I ask, my voice colored by hopeful hues. Droplets of sleep still hang on my lips.

“No, dude it’s Daichi.”

I grit my teeth. I’m not mad at him. I’m not mad at him for calling me, I’m not mad at him...

I’m mad because he’s not Y/N.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask something about Y/N,”

“Eh?”

And what about her? For me to tell him what Y/N thought of him? To tell him that he was a bad brother? To tell him that his sister left because his family sucks?

“You’re her best friend.”

“Was.”

“What?”

“Was her best friend.”

“Yeah...”

“And?”

“And you.. Well you... Well she probably told you...”

“She didn’t,”

My answer is cold and what would put an end to this conversation.

“She... didn’t?”

He obviously doesn’t know when it’s time to end a conversation.

“Daichi, are you drunk?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Why are you calling me at 4am?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Maybe it’s the only aspect he and his sister share - that small little doubt, showing that they’re never sure of what to say.

“Because I don’t u-understand,” he hiccups.

“What?”

Then his voice breaks, like a ship that’s slowly claimed by the waves to be sunken forever.

“Eijirou... Eijirou... I don’t understand why she left... Eijirou, was it really bad for her? Was it that bad that she couldn’t tell anyone?”

I bite my bottom lip until I feel a hot droplet of blood running down my chin. What do I say to him? That she was trying to tell them? That they didn’t listen? That none of us did?

“It’s not your fault, Daichi. Go to sleep,”

“But...”

“We’ll talk again tomorrow if you want to. Now go to sleep.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Yeah.”

I end the call and fall back to my bed. My bed is incredibly cold and unwelcoming. I slump my way towards the kitchen and sit there until the first droplets of liquid gold begin to pour inside.

Calendar shows 11th of April, 2025.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

I put Cyclamens in the vase. It’s the day we meet again. I don’t know what to hope for and while I’m going, my insecurities and fears follow close, only to disappear as soon as i see her.

She looks like a goddess. Her hair like rays of sunshine that found their place in the waves of locks on her head, her skin seems to shine, like it’s been kissed by stars and her smile only compliments her beauty.

Nothing’s changed but when I come closer, I notice that her eyes are different. All the happiness and joy is drained and now they’re empty. No, not empty... Just filled with something I can’t quite identify.

“It’s you...” I manage to whisper and before I start feeling like an idiot, she laughs with that wonderful laugh wrapping me with the feeling of safety, telling me that everything’s okay.

“It’s me.” she confirms and puts her forehead against mine. We drown in the silence, away from everything.

“I often wonder why you did that.”

She pulls away and her hands find their place on the back of my neck, as if we’re dancing, “I did it for myself.”

I sigh, “I don’t understand it. I don't understand it, Y/N,”

My hands dance on her waist, not finding their place.

“I wasn’t happy, Eijirou. I wasn’t happy there.”

I sigh again and pull her against my body. She smells like vanilla and clean laundry,

“Could I’ve made you happy?” I quietly ask and she raises her glance. Her empty eyes that pulled me in so strongly.

“No, it’s not your fault, Eijirou,” she answers and wipes away my tears that I didn’t even know were falling, “I did it for myself, I did it so I could be happy. Eijirou, I feel good now.”

I look up to the bright blue sky. There’s only one cloud there.

I take in a stuttering breath.

“Wasn’t there anything I could do?” Tears now flow freely as I try to not look at her. Somewhere deep inside I know this isn’t real and I’m afraid that she’ll disappear if I look at her for too long.

She takes my face into her hands, softly stroking it with one hand. Her glance is soft and for a moment, I see the Y/N I used to know before.

“All you can do right now is forgive me,” she whispers and I pet her silky hair, “And forgive yourself, Eijirou. You can’t carry the guilt of other people’s choices. You can’t live with a fault that isn’t your’s.”

That’s the last time I hear her voice.

When I wake up, I see her face right before my eyes but it’s not a ghost who drags a trail of unanswered questions after itself. No, it’s now a person I once loved so much. A person that I couldn’t hate for leaving me in pieces of my former self.

There’s a bunch of yellow Daffodils and Forget-Me-Not’s in my hands. Forget-Me-Not’s for a promise, that she’ll always be dear to me and Daffodils - the second promise, that I will finally start everything over again.

I leave the flowers on her grave, which I finally visited after two years.

It’s time to forgive her. It’s time to forgive myself.

I come back home and check the calendar for the last time. My new beginning is on 11th of April, 2026. Two years after her death.

“The sun will rise, and we will try again,” she used to say. With those words, I breathe in and peel the calendar page off.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

As always, thanks @velvet-kissesss​ for editing! 

#bnha #bnha angst #bnha x reader #bnha x reader oneshot #mha x reader #bnha oneshot #bnha x reader angst #kirishima eijirou #eijirou kirishima #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #eijiro x reader #bnha kirishima x reader #mha kirishima x reader #mha eijiro x reader #bnha eijirou x reader #bnha eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader angst #kirishima angst #eijirou kirishima angst #kirishima eijirou angst #tw: suicide

[herstoryofabinibini]

“The insecure side of a woman who is not afraid to be alone”

I’ve been in journey that feels odd yet exciting. One of my closest friend invited me to hop in on their vacation along with our former classmates who I barely get the chance to be closed with during our junior days. All through our stay in my friend’s resort, I was uncomfortable but I managed to talk with them and exchange conversations even if I don’t know what to ask (catching up since they’ve been inside the Academy for a year). It feels weird hanging out when you are surrounded with couples which makes it more awkward because I don’t personally know their girlfriends and boyfriends. It feels unfamiliar because I wasn’t used going out with people who are already in a relationship. But that get together made me realized 3 things. I saw my former classmates which is known for his ‘bastos’ remarks, an old friend I still have contact with, my bestfriend (who invited me to join them) and a bunch of people I always bumped in school during my secondary level. When I looked at JR, he is still them same person I knew 4 years ago, except that he is more mature now. He thinks now before he speaks and it came out as a shock for me. RE is also with us, except for the part where she is on her breaking point because she had a fight with her boyfriend and her phone went missing which added stress to her. But among other friends that were present in there, she is the person I more closed with because we were bestfriend during HS. And there goes my bestfriend, who is GR. She was the one who offered us their place and she invited her suitor to join us (I get to know him but I wasn’t really good at speaking with people I just met and I only gave him awkward smiles and weird glances). We had fun and tell each other’s experiences in our own universities, drink a little too much, went swimming at 12 am and slept on the tree house. When I woke up, I find myself fitting in places because lovebirds are dominating the area and I was the only women in there who’s single. To cut the story short, I can’t help but feel insecure because I wanted to experience having someone by your side. But then I realized, that those people I’ve mentioned earlier were once a person I thought they would be forever. When I saw JR again with his girlfriend, I see nothing but a man who is caring and who wants nothing but to express his love in simple gestures. I’ve known JR for 4 years but he changed a lot. While my other friend who is RE finally found peace after being with a person who does not see her value. She is stress all the time, but when her boyfriend came that night to compromise with her, I see a women who is not afraid to lower her pride to forgive. And there is GR who spend more time with his suitor than mine. (I hate that he is more close with him that she has with me). GR made precarious decision because she is afraid to let go of what’s hurting her and despite the fact that I don’t get to speak with her all night, I was genuinely happy that she wants to settle with someone who never fails to support her needs in all aspect. I realized that the version of a person I created in my head is not their responsibility but mine. My ability to look through the personality of an individual is what matters because people always change. And of course, I learned something from the situation. I’ve been single for a long time because I refused to settle with a man who does the bare minimum and I will not lower my standards just to meet them at the middle point. I told myself that why does happiness need to come from someone? why can’t I make myself happier? and that is when it hits me. Having someone by your side felt surreal. they made you laugh, cry, and hate but above all, how to love. And I want those for myself, I want myself to feel great, sad or mad on my own, not because someone made me feel it. And I think this leads me to the works of self-love. I don’t have to be sad because everyone feels that they already meet their soulmates, what I should focus more on is how I love myself and what does I need to do to find myself. Self- love is not an easy task when you are surrounded by people who are depending their emotion with their loved ones. But that is the beauty of love and loving someone, it made you feel different sort of emotion and I am still trying to figure out how it is possible. 3 things I’ve learn -self love -people are not responsible for the version of them we created in our heads -people always has a choice to change

#self healing selfworth herstoryofabinibini self love

[dippedanddripped]

It’s rare that it reaches 100 degrees in the suburbs of Portland, Oregon.

Even rarer still is the presence of an all-gold Dodge Challenger, its reflection giving the appearance of a bejeweled shooting star pulling into the parking lot.

This one also has a vanity license plate – “Sammyy” – that enhances the car’s extraterrestrial appearance.

The Challenger’s occupant exits and joins me at a table. As she takes a seat across from me, a group of 20-somethings not too far away becomes intrigued.

More stares start to accrue from the outdoor mall goers. Next up is a young couple pushing a stroller, followed by the employees at the coffee shop I had just exited.

A minute ago, neither myself nor the table I was at seemed to warrant much, if any, attention.

You can get the sense that “somebody” just entered the premises, even if they’re not quite sure who that somebody is.

I can tell that the attention phases me more than my recently-arrived guest. Despite the now fishbowl-like dynamic between the two of us and the mall-goers, she seems to barely notice.

Then again, when you have more than 2.5 million followers on instagram and nearly half a million more on Tik Tok, being recognized by random passerby doesn’t come as a surprise like it would for most.

Rockstar? No, influencer

I distinctly remember the plethora of classmates I graduated high school with who promised to one day grow up and become “rockstars.”

Unsurprisingly, I haven’t heard from any of those classmates since. What is surprising is how anachronistic the notion of being a “rockstar” has become.

The reality is that “rockstar” should probably be replaced with a new term – ”influencer.” Sure, it’s not quite as catchy, but it’s far more accurate when describing the world’s latest (and perhaps most enviable) celebrity class.

These days, very real rock stars have nothing on the modern day Influencer.

Influencing by the numbers

What little data on the subject tells us is that, in 2016, social media influencing was just under a $2 billion industry ($1.7B, for those with a penchant for exactness).

This figure grew to $3B in 2017, and $4.6B in 2018.

In 2020, estimates tell us that the sector is likely to surpass the $10B mark.

While that may not seem like a lot of money, think of it this way – in a little under 4 years, the size of the influencing industry grew 500%.

Should the industry continue on its current growth trajectory, it will become a $50B industry by 2024.

To put this in perspective, Goldman Sachs estimates that the total value of all recorded music streaming will grow to about $30B by 2030. That means that it will take some years for music to reach just half of what influencing brings in annually.

By some metrics, influencers have become more relevant as celebrities than their musical counterparts. It’s happened quickly; adults who use social media religiously often can’t see it.

But real professional influencers are out there. As a crowd begins forming near our table, I begin to witness firsthand what these ridiculous financial statistics truly mean.

Who is Sammyy02k?

Since 2014, Samantha Krieger has gone by a number of different names. These days, she’s known as Sammyy02k.

Despite her reluctance to do in-person interviews, she’s agreed to be the subject of an Artvoice feature on the rise of social media influence.

And while Krieger can exercise her massive reach with just a few taps of a smartphone, a lot of misinformation about her continues to circulate.

As part of her agreement to the interview, I offer to help clarify the basics about just who exactly she is.

Samantha Krieger, AKA Sammyy02k

Samantha Krieger was born in Portland, Oregon. For some years, she was no different than you or me, working tedious retail jobs and driving a non-gold car.

At Lakeridge high school, she was dealt with taunts from wealthy classmates. It’s likely these experiences would activate whatever latent stardom was already within her.

After graduating from Portland State University in 2014, Krieger had a vision.

She suspected, correctly, that it doesn’t take much to at least get started as an influencer.

You need photos and/or video, sure… but given the prevalence of acceptable cameras on the backs of phones, finding a suitable recording setup was simple.

The second ingredient Krieger inferred was something less tangible – the courage required to be exceptional.

Despite her natural shyness, she had ambitions that extended beyond what she thought her bachelors degree would help achieve. Then, one day, it clicked.

“You could say I decided to become an ‘antisocial social media star.’”

“I did what I wanted to do, and I knew there was going to be a way to make it work for me.”

From 0 to 60 (thousand followers)

Like any new profile, at one point, @Sammyy02k had 0 followers.

Constant content and connection with followers helped drive things quickly, however.

A few hundred followers within a month turned into one thousand, and one thousand turned into tens of thousands in less than a year.

While impressive to most, Krieger knew there was more to be gained.

“Once I hit 50 or 60 thousand, things started to snowball. I hit the gas.”

@Sammyy02k posted more content, becoming more aware of her developing voice with every post.

At 500k followers, the contracts rolled in.

Brand building, Sammyy02k style

Krieger’s first contract of note was in Spring 2018, a lucrative deal with clothing brand Fashion Nova.

Now, instead of developing a brand on her own money and time, Krieger had companies competing against one another for the privilege of paying her to do what she loved.

The Fashion Nova contract was quickly followed by others, and within just a matter of months, Krieger’s lifestyle had changed dramatically.

She quit her last remaining part-time gig and moved into a luxury 2-bedroom apartment in Portland’s famed Pearl District.

With newfound status, however, came the need for significant soul searching.

Overcoming obstacles, digital and personal

Not too long after inking the Fashion Nova deal, Sammyy02k was offered to do a paid appearance at a party in downtown Portland. While there, she got a call from the police.

A gray Dodge Charger registered in her name had crashed into a median in China Town. The driver had fled, and the car was totaled.

Krieger immediately had a suspect in mind: a reckless boyfriend who had started taking advantage of her recently-acquired celebrity status.

Boyfriends weren’t the only concerns that Krieger had to deal with – even some of her own friends had started to become jealous, the relationships turning toxic.

To her friends, Krieger was still known as just “Sam”. People in her circle had difficulty comprehending the controlled entrepreneurism required to run @Sammyy02k.

They’d ask for shoutouts or suggest off-brand posts, not understanding that the Instagram profile required attention to detail and discipline.

Old friends becoming enemies seems like an overplayed Hollywood trope.

For a young adult who now could command thousands of dollars for just a few minutes of work, it was reality.

The type of loneliness that hides in shadows of success began to stretch further and further into Krieger’s personal life. The totalled car was the last straw.

While on the phone with the police at her first paid party appearance, Krieger took a deep breath and decided that staying on her desired path would require serious changes.

“I saw this as an opportunity where I could come back, and make a statement.”

It turned out that ditching the car (and the boyfriend) would be one of her best career decisions yet.

A car is born

A few weeks after the incident, Sammyy02k returned from a luxurious all-paid overseas trip to the Seychelles with a new travel sponsor. Krieger decided that she “needed a new whip.”

By now, Krieger had registered an LLC in her name. Business was coming fast and steady, and it wasn’t uncommon for her to be recognized on the street – not only in Portland, but in Los Angeles and even cities as far away as Kansas City.

Krieger elaborates:

“At this point, I was really stepping into my role as an influencer. This is when I really refined my style, my brand, and my image.”

For you and me, “refining your style” might mean picking up a few shirts from a department store.

To Krieger, it meant buying a brand new custom Dodge Challenger R/T wrapped in metallic gold with scissor-doors, the kind you’ll find on a Lamborghini.

According to Krieger, the car represents the essence of her brand, and the luxury of travel. It’s now one of the most recognized facets of her style.

Sammyy02k all over the world

Sammyy02k’s influence, today, is international.

With sponsorship deals taking her to the Seychelles, Dubai, Abu Dhabi, and beyond, she is now recognized in 4 continents.

She prides herself on showing her fans different places around the world. The path less traveled, the freedom to be everywhere, the luxury lifestyle that many in our always-connected society dream of.

“I feel connected to the road, and traveling to exotic locations”

The opportunities that sudden stardom has afforded her seem almost surreal, even to her. Normalcy is a mirage in the rear view mirror.

Responding to criticism

In mid-2019, Krieger was the main guest on a Portland Fashion Week panel. Already an influencer to influencers, she insisted that whatever secret ingredients success exist come naturally.

During a Q&A, she fielded numerous questions regarding her chosen career path. Not all of the questions were softballs.

Some questioned the materialism and sexuality often used by influencers.

The response was simple:

“Your opinions don’t pay my bills.”

Always on the go

With more followers pouring in every day, Sammyy02k stays busy. She recounts tales of distant travels, and the types of perks that I thought were originally reserved for a few select people who orbited high above in the LA movie industry.

Thirty minutes into the interview, I notice that a distant crowd has accumulated around our table like rings around Saturn.

Krieger barely seems to notice. A reminder goes off on her phone, a notification about another engagement she has back in the city.

After a polite exchange of thank yous and goodbyes, she heads back to her car.

I hear the exhaust note of the Challenger float away from the parking lot as I gather my notes and get up from the table.

As I glance up, the crowd has already dispersed. The only people left pay me no mind as they stare at their phones.

#portland oregon #influencers #streetwear blog #fashion blog #Sammyy02k

[bandyisdandy]

Persona 4 Golden - The Rainbow Connection (2/10/21)

Anyone who knows me within the space of gaming knows that my favorite game of all time is arguably Persona 5 Royal. The game just oozes personality and fun from the get-go. It is easy enough to pick up and check out, but also deep enough to keep you engaged for hours upon hours, hungering for more even after the credits roll on your 80 to 120 hour experience. Saying this, I also have to admit that, while it is the fifth entry in the franchise, I had never played another Persona before vanilla 5. Whenever hardcore players of the series I met over the years heard this, they insisted I play 3 and/or 4 before I go on saying that 5/Royal is my favorite in the franchise. This past January, I decided to finally pull the trigger and check out Persona 4 Golden on Steam. After playing the game for about 70 hours, I defeated the true final boss and finally put the controller down for a bit. All I can say is... what a god damn magical experience this was.

Persona 4 is a JRPG (Japanese Role-playing Game) that puts you in control of Yu, a high schooler living in the middle of Tokyo who is moving in to the country with his police officer uncle and young cousin while his parents go away for a year on business. While there, you meet a young man named Yosuke and a girl named Chie who tell you about a mysterious phenomenon known as the Midnight Channel that shows up when a heavy fog rolls into town and the clock strikes midnight. One night, while viewing this phenomenon, a girl appears in the screen who looks an awful lot like a senior to the students at their school. The next day, her corpse is found strung up on a telephone pole, baffling the police due to the fact that a similar death took place around the time of Yu’s arrival. While investigating the murder of their senior, Yu and Yosuke discover they can enter a special television at a department store, where they meet Teddie, a living teddy bear who can lead them through the fog-dense world within the TV. Upon finding a space where their senior once was, they fight beings known as Shadows and awaken Persona, living embodiments of their fighting spirit as well as their own belief and acceptance of themselves in order to do combat with the Shadows. After their victory, they figure out that someone pushed the upperclassman into the world within the television and the Midnight Channel prophesizes the deaths of those who appear on it. Using this knowledge, Yu and Yosuke continue to make friends, investigate the case, and do their best to uncover the culprit before a year is up and Yu must return home.

... That seems like a lot, right? Well, crazily enough, that is probably the first 5 hours or so at most, and there is another 65+ to go in your first playthrough. Now, this game, at first, is a tough sell especially if you are like me and played 5/Royal first as those games have spoiled our perceptions of what the franchise is and can be. Persona 4 Golden is definitely a step down visually as well as design and music-wise in comparison to 5. It just does not have the same substance that game does and the gameplay, in comparison, feels a bit dated here. The Shadows you encounter in 5′s dungeons are also the enemies you actually fight this time around and the Tarot Card system makes collecting and recruiting Persona much more annoying than the way 5 handles it in combat. However, while it sounds like I am being quite harsh on the game, in reality, this is by and far one of the best JRPGs I have ever played and cannot be recommended by me more. Since I got all the negatives out of the way, let’s look at the heaps of praise I have for this triumph of a game.

First and foremost, what really sets this game above and beyond a lot of others, maybe even doing this better in many respects than Persona 5/Royal, is the characters. Every character is just so damn interesting, and really adds so much charm to what is already a rather charming game. They bring the story as well as the countryside town you now find yourself in that much brighter and bigger. Each one has goals, values, idealizations, and realizations that flesh them out more than most games I have played, all of them having incredibly satisfying conclusions to their stories. Some stand outs for me are your young cousin Nanako, who is lonely due to her father always working as a police officer and her mother passing away in a car accident a few years prior to the start of the game, Kanji Tatsumi, a punk who uses violence and fear to mask his incredibly soft, caring side that enjoys arts and crafting more than he would care to admit, and Naoto Shirogane, a young detective hiding her femininity in order to find power and prestige in the world of private investigation which, in Japan especially, is a male dominated field - these are just some of the memorable characters you will meet. I am currently doing a second playthrough and have already met two characters I never encountered in my first playthrough that are honestly becoming some of my favorites in the series! Building relationships (yes, even romantic ones with your female classmates) is key to not only finding out more about them, but also key to getting stronger, unlocking abilities and weapons for you to use in your playthrough that will seriously make the game not only easier but I would go as far as to say more fun in regards to what possibilities open up to you in combat. Growing the bond between you and your friends within your party is also the only way to strengthen and evolve their Persona to bigger and better forms, making combat flow easier but also giving one a true sense of power, purpose and meaning in the memories you create with Yosuke and the gang.

The other thing that really made me fall in love with Persona 4 Golden is its story and location. While the bustling cityscape of Tokyo and Shibuya really makes Persona 5 and Royal feel big and grandiose in its vision of what a modern JRPG can be, Persona 4 Golden, while feeling smaller in comparison, feels much more unique and, weirdly enough, nostalgic - at least for me. The town of Inaba is small with little to do at first, but it still has some beautiful and honestly quite intriguing sights to see (I’m looking at you, Greedy Shrine Fox). As you become more accustomed to the town and what it offers, it surprises you and opens up even more based on your time within the game, the weather outside, and even the time of the day you are out and about exploring. I grew up in a small town outside of Boston and while it’s not exactly like Inaba, the parts I spent most of my days remind me of it - areas covered in trees near streams with small restaurants and bars nearby, nature trails to walk, seeing mostly the same people each and every day - it really sent me back to life growing up when I was the age of the characters and truly made the game something memorable and instantly connected me to what was happening. As for the plot, I am a sucker for a murder mystery - I love true crime and have always loved police or detective shows growing up. Being able to work towards a case and have your decisions, investigations, and choices up to certain points have merit and weight behind them in regards to what ending you get is absolutely amazing and really sets the tone for a game that shrouds you in mystery and keeps you at the edge of your seat at all times, all the while still finding the time to help you enjoy the ride with laughter, tears, and dialogue that just really gets to you from beginning to end, sticking with you even after you’ve beaten it. Throw in some seriously fantastic boss fights, great music, and top notch voice acting for the time and it all adds up to a package with so much content and so much to tell you along the way that you just can’t help but keep playing until you absolutely have to put it down, only to continue for hours and hours later on.

All in all, Persona 4 Golden is a seriously fun game. While I still think Persona 5 Royal is a better game than it, I cannot stop thinking about the journey it took me on. The places I saw, the people I met and became friends with along the way - it’s a surreal, dream-like game that really gets you thinking right from the beginning and keeps you on your toes until the bitter end. I found myself engrossed in the lives of these characters, worried for them anytime something happened to them within the context of the game’s narrative and only hopes to see them come out on top, and thankfully this was usually the case in my playthrough thanks to the choices I made. I can only wonder what would have happened if I chose things differently - where would my characters have ended up at the end of all this? Would things have gotten worse for them? Who knows - all I know is that once the game was over, I had nothing but smiles and happiness going through my head as I saw my friends say goodbye and I loaded up my stuff onto the train. All those precious moments, etched into my mind forever; the hardships of the dungeons, the toughness of the Shadows, the mystery of the killer - that’s how you create a great game narrative, and finish it with an even greater, satisfying ending. Check out Persona 4 Golden on Steam TODAY if you liked this review! https://store.steampowered.com/agecheck/app/1113000/

#persona #persona 4 #persona 4 golden #persona 5 #sega #atlus #smt #pc #pc gaming #gaming #steam #review #retrospective #video games #gaming blog #blog

[chickensarentcheap]

I Found - chapter 17

No warnings.

Well maybe some cute Tyler and Ovi ;)

Tagging: @alievans007, @hemmyworthy, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

A week later he waits across the street from Hargrave school. Leaning back against the driver's door of a rented SUV.; arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses covering his eyes, smoking a cigarette. He'd given up the habit months ago; being in the hospital for an extended period of time successfully cleanses your body and mind of all your vices. But with his desire to drink again returning at a furious and alarming pace and his med use just slightly above normal, he had figured having one awful habit wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

He remains expressionless yet his as eyes are continuously working. Observing the surroundings, scanning the sidewalks and the road for anything that seems suspicious.  So far nothing seems out of the ordinary. Drivers behind the wheel of cars idling along the curbs, a lone maintenance worker watering the gardens out from. There didn't seem to be anyone...besides him....casing the place. No cars making multiple trips around the block. Just normal people going about their day: parents waiting to pick up their kids, a handful of early release students trickling through the front doors.

His cell phone vibrates against his leg and he fishes it from the side pocket of his cargo shorts.  A smiling tugging at the corners of his mouth. A  picture from his wife: a picture of their baby girl in a brightly coloured sundress and matching hat that one of the maids had gifted her with.  And at that moment it seems so surreal; the realization that he was a dad again.  Some days you're just going through the motions;  moving from one moment to the next without even thinking about what you're doing.  Other days you're sitting in a quiet room or lying in bed and out of nowhere  you think 'wow'.  This is one of those times. Where it actually hits him: how far he's come, the good things in his life that he has accomplished, how the guilt and the regret of the past aren't nearly as painful as they were even six months ago. A year ago he'd been hoping to catch a bullet. Now he was desperate to escape catching one.

A text message comes next. Asking him if everything is okay.  It's a covert way of asking if he's seen anything troubling or if he's caught wind of any brewing.  But he wants to tell her that everything is awesome.  That she and their little girl are awesome.  That he's sorry for getting them mixed up in his bullshit.  That he can't wait to see them.  Maybe it's the worry that something will happen to them if he's gone for too long; that he'll get back to the house and all hell would have broken loose and his wife and kid missing. Or maybe it's the reality that the only time he's truly happy is when he's with them.  That they are the ones who are keeping him sane. From returning to old habits and old feelings and the desire to just end it all.

He messages back. Telling her that everything is fine.  That he's just waiting for the kid to get out of school.  That they're going to go somewhere and talk, just the two of them.  That he'll be home before dinner is on the table. That he loves them.

The bell rings, signalling the end of the school day.  And within minutes the doors are bursting open and students are flowing out; a tsunami of giggling girls talking in ridiculously high pitches,  guys with too much swagger and not enough common sense to realize the ladies aren't falling for their fake macho bullshit,  jocks picking on the weaker kids.  His own high school experience had been normal enough; teetering the line between jock and serious student. But there'd been higher education or career that had appealed to him.  He'd always been a tad reckless. Restless.  And he needed something with action and adventure. That would keep his body and his mind busy.  And he'd enrolled in the army only two days following graduation. He'd  always been a naturally gifted athlete; tall, broad shouldered, strong. And passing basic training had remarkably easy.

Eighteen years seemed like a lifetime ago.  A lifetime filled with more action and danger and risk of death than he could ever have managed.  His own demons making a transition from full time solider to mercenary alarmingly seamless.

He slips his phone back into his pocket as he sees the kid coming down the stairs; alone, eyes downcast, his thumb hooked around the straps of his backpack.  He's taller than most of his classmates now.  And seems so much older than that kid he'd rescued out of that filthy apartment in Dhaka. He's been through a lot. Seeing and hearing things that no kid should ever have to. The terror of being kidnapped followed by a stranger busting you free, but not before they'd slaughtered an entire room of people. Tyler imagines that he would have been confused; his eyes wide as he stepped over bleeding and broken corpses, following a complete stranger into yet another unknown and terrifying situation.  Everything had gone wrong after that. Tyler had never had a job go that bad.  There had been injuries and death left behind, but his duties had been fulfilled quickly and successfully. Walking away with no injuries and permanent scars but nice healthy pay checks.

Everything that could go wrong did. A fucked up series of horrible events that came to an end on that bridge.

****

Ovi stops when he sees him; startled at first, his head moving from left to right as he looks for the usual drivers that pick him up. Then a broad smile brightens his entire face and he's practically skipping across the street. Once again throwing this arm around Tyler and embracing him tightly.  A year ago he'd hesitated to even touch the kid. When Ovi had clung to him on the stairs at Gaspar's.  And he remembers the initial shock of the moment, and how'd he cautiously brought his hand up to the kid's head.  It had been a long time since he'd had to comfort someone. He didn't form personal relationships with the people he helped.  He simply got shit done and went on with his life.

Unlike a year ago, he doesn't hesitate when returning the embrace.  The kid is desperate for affection. He craves it. Needs it.  And maybe somewhere deep down inside, Tyler does to.

“What are you doing here?” Ovi asks, as Tyler tousles his hair and the kid steps out of the hug.

“Thought you could use the change of pace. Thought maybe we could go somewhere and talk.  Privately.  I know it's not easy to get some things out when there's so many ears around.”  The guards unnerved the kid instead of calming him.  He was skittish when they were around; never able to fully relax.  

“About what?”  

“I don't know. Things,” he takes the final drag of his cigarette and tosses it to the ground, extinguishing it with the sole of his shoe.

An eyebrow hitches. “You smoke?

“Always have. Just had to quit for a while. Just don't tell my wife, okay? It wouldn't go over very well.”

Ovi nods, moving around to the other side of the SUV as Tyler pops open the driver's side door. Tossing his school bag into the back seat and ready to climb in when a soft, beautiful voice captures his attention.

“Hi Ovi.”

Tyler notices the way the kid's eyes widen,  the way he looks both terrified and excited that the young woman has actually spoken to him.  She's cute; tall and willowy with shimmering black hair pulled into two braided ponytails. And he grins as Ovi stutters and stumbles over his words, struggling to get out even a simple hello in return.

“I'll see you tomorrow right?” she inquires hopefully, and he nods in response and then holds his hand up in a small wave of farewell before climbing into the SUV.

“Is that her?” Tyler asks, watching through the rear view mirror as she bounces off with her friends, but not before she glances back over her shoulder, getting in one last look. “Is that her?” he asks. “The girl you talked about last night?”

Ovi nods.  

“Well done, kid,” he grins, as he fires up the engine.  “Well done.”

****

They slip into  booth tucked into the back corner of a  nearby deli.  The flow of traffic is light; two customers sitting right at the corner and a third near the hallway the leads to the washroom, and while Ovi orders from the menu, Tyler opts for black coffee. He sits facing the entrance. Always cautious. Feeling that now familiar weight of the gun that rests on his hip.  

Ovi chatters on about school and upcoming football tryouts; sipping a vanilla milkshake and nibbling from a heaping plate of french fries smothered in ketchup.  The excitement and the hope for a calmer immediate feature drips from every word. He's optimistic. Enthusiastic.  Tyler has provided him with a level of safety and security that he hasn't feel for weeks. Probably even months. Spending most of his days since the extraction nervous about possible retribution, constantly looking over his shoulder and wary of everyone and everything.  

“Remember how you were telling me about looking into colleges away from home?” Tyler speaks now, as Ovi delves a little more eagerly into the french fries.  “You said you wanted to get away from here once you got out of high school.”

Ovi nods, then his eyes narrow. “You're not going to try and talk me out of it, are you?”

“Naw, mate. I can totally understand wanting to get away. Wanting to escape. It's why I joined the army once I was old enough. I needed to get away from some bullshit too.”

“From your parents?”

“From my dad. My mom was already gone.  She died when I was twelve. Car accident.”

Ovi gives a sad smile. “I'm sorry.”

“My old man and I never got along. Even when she was still alive. I don't think he ever really wanted kids, to be honest. He wanted my mom all to himself and then I came along and totally ruined that. He's resented me for a long time.  I've always been a burden to him. Someone that cost him too much money and clothe and put a roof over his head. He hated that my mom and I were so close.  Not because he wanted to be close with me. But because I took my mom away from him.”

The emotion chokes at him. Sitting heavily in his chest and tightening his throat.  In the same way in at that night at Gaspar's when he'd told Ovi about his failed marriage and the death of his son.  And he takes a swig of coffee to wash down the mixed feelings of bitterness, grief, and anger.

“So I totally get why you want to get away.  I don't think anyone could blame you. Especially after everything that you've been through. Sometimes we have to leave everything behind. Can't have much of a future if you're spending your whole time  living in the past, know what I mean?”

Ovi nods.

“You ever thought of Colorado?” Tyler asks.

“Like in the United States?”

“Unless there's another Colorado I don't know about.”

“Isn't it really cold there? Doesn't it snow all the time?”

“Not three hundred and sixty five days a year. It's supposed to be beautiful there. Mountains, lots of fresh air, tons of things to do. That's where Esme's from. A little place with about twenty five hundred people. Her family is still there.  Mom and step dad, brothers, a  sister. Tons of nieces and nephews.”

“So now you do have a family,” the kids says, and Tyler nods slowly.

“I suppose I do, mate. Would be nice to meet them, though.  I've only ever seen them through video calls or talked to them on the phone.”

“So they haven't met the baby then?” Ovi's smile fades.  “That's really sad.”

“Yeah, it is. They deserve to meet her. And she deserves to meet them,” he sips his coffee.  “We're moving there. When all this is over.”

It isn't finalized; they haven't made any concrete plans.  But the other night in bed he'd gone onto the 'net and

looked up houses and job prospects and Esme had seemed warmer to the idea. He can see himself settling down there; buying a fixer upper with a view of the mountains, enough land to have chickens and goats (her idea, he felt they'd shit everywhere even more than chickens) and room for their kids to play.   They had just enough money between the two of them in savings that they could afford a decent down payment and still have a bit in the bank for a rainy day.

“You are?” Ovi's eyes widen.  “You're going that far from home? Why?”

“It's time to move on, I guess. She gave up everything in her life to move to Australia and take care of me and get me back on my feet. She misses home. And I owe it to her to give her that piece of her life back.”

He also lays out the harsh truth.  That he's made a lot of enemies along the way; stepped on a lot of toes. It's naive to think that the actions of the past don't have ramifications on your future.  Now that whoever is behind the recent drama knows where he lives, it wouldn't be safe to go back.  And he couldn't put his family through that.  Instead when everything was over, they'd take their passports and leave. With nothing more than the clothes on their backs and a few personal items. It wouldn't take long to get on their feet; he wasn't worried about not being able to find work or support his family. And if that meant living out of cheap motels until they found a permanent place, it was what he was willing to do.

“But you guys will be even further away,” the kid laments.  “What if I need you? You'll be even further away.”

“Not if you come with us.”

Ovi blinks.  “Come with you?”

“We don't have a lot, mate.  It won't be the life you have here.  But at least you'd have a life.  You won't have to be a prisoner in your own place. You won't constantly be looking over your shoulder or seeing something or hearing something that makes you think of what happened in Dhaka. It won't be easy. It's going to be hard for all of us.  But that's better than what you've got going on here.”

“You really want me there? With you and your family?”

“We won't be able to put you in an expensive school like you're in now. There's no way we could ever afford something like that. And we definitely won't be getting a place like you have now.  You're going to have to slum it.”

“I don't care about that. None of that matters to me.”

“You'd be safe there. Safe with us. Most importantly, you'd have people around you that actually care about you. Who worry about you and want what's best for you. You got a shit deal in this life, kid.  You've got an old man that doesn't give a fuck about you and put you in all this bullshit to begin with. But you don't have to stay stuck in all of this. And we're worried what might happen to you if you do.”

Tears sparkle in his eyes, yet a broad grin spreads across his face. “You want me to come and live with you?”

“Like I said, we can't give you much. But we can give you a real home.”

“Like a family,” his voice is a near whisper.

“Now nothing's set in stone, mate, so don't get your hopes up yet. There's some things that need to get worked out before we can even start making arrangements to take you anywhere. I still have to go and talk to your old man.”

“My father?” he's perplexed. Maybe even a little scared.  “Why?”

“Well I can't just take you out  oh India. That's kidnapping.  And kidnapping a drug lord's son? Didn't we just go through that a year ago? There's no need to repeat that.  I need to go and see him. Have a man to man.  He must have at least ounce of humanity left, right? There must be some part of him that cares about his own kid.”

“He thinks of me the same way you do. More like a thing than a person.”

Tyler can still hear those words. As clear as day.

“He doesn't care about anything,” Ovi says now. “Or anyone. It's why I'm in the mess I'm in. Why I was in the mess I was in last year.”

“Well we got you out of that mess and we'll get you out of this one too. I'll talk to your father. Try to reason with him.”

“And if that doesn't work?”

“Well, if that doesn't work, I've got other ways of convincing people to give me what I want.”

“You'd kill him?”

“What?” Tyler chuckles.  “That isn't always my go to, you know. I don't always kill people. Sometimes I do other things.”

“Like rescue people.”

He nods.  It's the exact opposite of the conversation that they'd had in that bedroom at Gaspar's house. When Ovi had asked if he'd always been this way. Brave.

Ovi sighs heavily.  Helps himself to a french fry. Another sip of his shake. Then he smiles.

“You know, I think I could get used to Colorado.”

****

The grass is a stunning emerald green. Sparkling gloriously in the sunlight; plush and smooth against bare feet as she wanders into the courtyard, baby in her arms.  Talking something yet animatedly about their new surroundings, about the trees that tower of them,  the smell of the flowers in bloom,  the way the grass smells and feels, the way the brilliant rays sun cause the ripples in the pool to sparkle and dance.  It is a beautiful home with even more beautiful surroundings; modern, spacious, impeccably clean, But inside it was cold and uncomfortable. Sterile. As if no one had lived there for years.  Not a spec of dust or a single dirty dish in the song. No sounds of laughter.  No conversations around the dinner table.  

And definitely no love.

She'd grown tired of staring at the walls; going stir crazy with nothing more than the wander the halls, take a nap, or read a book. She'd tried engaging the workers in conversation; English was their second language and for the most part, spoke it impeccably. But they'd just stared at her as if she'd grown another head.  As if she'd broken some written that law that prohibited the help from fraternizing with those that inhabited the house.  It was strange way to live; merely floating through your day, no real human contact as you just completed one chore after another.  The job had been lonely at times; returning to an empty hotel room, never knowing when you'd step foot through your own front door again. But at least there had always been human contact.  

Her heart breaks for Ovi.  Being a teenager is hard enough. But being a teenager in his situation was unfathomable. A poor kid thrust into a life of chaos because of his father's poor choices. Left alone in an enormous house, surrounded by beautiful things, yet having nothing to truly cherish.  With Saju he'd had least had someone that genuinely cared for his health and well being, even if it did take the threat against his own child to show as much.  He'd had someone there to guide him.   Protect him. And once he'd died, Ovi had truly been left with nothing.

She selects a spot near the pool, sinking down into the grass, back to the water, legs in the shade cast by a large tree.  She places the her thighs, waiting until the cool breeze and the chirping of birds bring on the beginnings of a much needed nap before she leans back. Hands on the grass behind her, head tilted back, eyes closed as she lets the sun bathe her face in warm.  Needing a moment of calm.  An escape from those eerily quiet hallways and those sterile walls.   From the staff always underfoot and watching to fill even her basic needs. From the thoughts of twelve months ago. When she'd met both Tyler Rake and Ovi Mahajan Junior for the first time and her life changed in the blink of an eye.

Nik had called a half an hour before.  The news was good but not great. She had been able to track down a last name for Farhad but not an exactly location. With no registered place of address and no known associates, it was proving difficult to to pinpoint is exact location.  Somewhere near the market was useless. Those areas were densely populated and the residents and shop keepers feared retribution if they spoke out against the criminals.  

It had been the first time in a year that Esme had been the strong and assertive one. Telling her that she didn't want to hear excuses. The anniversary of the Dhaka job was four days away. And she wanted an address and a meeting time set up.

***

“You know, you shouldn't be out here alone.”

Opening her eyes, she places as a hand over them to shield them from the sun. “I'm not.  There's two guards on the roof and three constantly patrolling. That is not being out alone.”

“Someone is supposed to be with you at all times. You know the rules.”

“Fuck the rules,” she grumbles.  Actually missing the days she was the one on the job, watching out for someone else. “And you're in my sun.”

Jason steps to the side, and she closes her eyes and tilts her head back again.

“You don't need to be here,” she reminds him.

“Someone needs to be.”

“I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And if someone is able to get past two arm guards on the roof and the two out there, then we are well and truly fucked and might as well give up. Because they're obviously superhuman. So...”

“Well forgive me for saying so, but guns can do a lot of damage.”

“You've never heard a first hand account about how a human being can kill someone with a garden rake, have you?”

Jason frowns. “What?”

“It was two people actually. One with the handle and one with the...never mind. Let's just say, it wasn't pretty. Seriously, Jason. Go inside. I'm all out of patience and fucks today. And I like you, but...”

“Well at least one of you does.”

She sighs.  “You're still not ass hurt about that are you? You crossed a line. You got called out on it.  Live and learn.”

“Sounds like you've been spending the last year of your life making a lot of excuses for him.”

“Sounds like maybe you need stop before you cross another line. You're just here because this is where Nik sent you. We're not here to be friends. I'm just a job. In the same way other people were just the job when I got into the game. It is what it is.”

“What I'm curious about is how the two of you ended up forgetting that. That it you were there to do a job.”

Sighing, she sits up and runs her palms along the sides of her thighs to clear the grass away.  “What is your obsession with Tyler? It's kind of creepy.  First you kiss his ass royally the first day you meet him and now you're all up his ass for some reason. I don't know what you think you know about him. About us.  And to be quite frank, I don't really give a shit.  But he's my husband. The father of my child. And I'm not the type that will sit back and let you shit talk him. So if there's what you're here for...”

He holds his hands up in surrender, then unbuttons his suit jacket and sits down on the grass beside her.

“Really?” she asks.  “Do you have no concept of personal space? And weren't you told to stay away from me?”

His eyes sparkle mischievously.  “Are you going to tell on me?”

“Kid, you are walking a very thin line.  You will not like what happens to you if I do rat you out.  Remember the thing with the garden rake I just told you about that? That will look tame compared to what happens to you.  Why are you like this? Why do you feel the need to be around me? It's just creepy as fuck.”

“Just trying to be friendly, I suppose.”

“Friendly is talking about shared interests and the weather. You're asking me questions about my personal life. That's not normal.”

“I was just curious, that's all.  You and Tyler both go on and on about the importance of the job and not forming bonds with the people you help, but the two of you couldn't even follow that yourselves. It seems a little...I don't know...hypocritical.”

“It was a year ago. It happened. Maybe it wasn't the best decision either of us ever made and maybe we should have stopped it, but we didn't. Trust me, we aren't the only two that have done something like that. It happens more often than you think.  We're just the ones that got caught doing it.”

Or maybe they just hadn't been very good at hiding it.  G had figured it out. Asking about it when she'd met up with him in the woods, where they had hunkered down to wait for Tyler to bring Ovi to the extraction point. Anxious to just get the hell out of  there. He'd been more curious than judgmental. After all, he'd met his own wife when he'd been hired to rescue someone. She hadn't been directly related to the job, but their paths had still crossed.

“Come on, you can't fool me,” he'd grinned, when she'd tried denying that there was anything going on between her and Tyler. They'd simply had to pretend they were married and be convincing about it.  And she'd insisted that he gave her the bed while she slept on the floor.

Which had been true. Even if only lasted the first night.

“Who cares what people will think,” he'd said.  “You're two consenting adults. You ended up getting the job done. Nothing got fucked up because Tyler couldn't keep it in his pants. Hopefully the two of you had some fun while doing that whole pretend marriage thing.”

:If only he'd known just how fun.

“I mean, if you weren't strong enough to stop it, you should have at least been careful about things.”

Esme smirks. “You're starting to sound like Nik.”

“Well, it's true. Don't you think?”

“I think you need to mind your own business kid.  What happened between Tyler and I is none of your business. Maybe we should have.  Maybe we shouldn't have let ourselves get out so out of control that the thought of being careful never crossed out minds.  But it happened. It happened and she's here because of it...” she smiles at the baby sleeping on her thighs; dark eye lashes brushing against her cheeks, mouth moving as if suckling a bottle. And she gently runs her fingers through Amelia's hair, noticing the way the sun picks up the hint of red she'd inherited from her daddy.  “..she's here and she's amazing and I'm lucky to have her. To have both of them.  Tyler has his issues and his fault. He's not perfect. But he's perfect for me. For us.”

Finally silence. And she feels as if she can breathe again. Not stuck in a seemingly endless circle of having to explain and defend her choices twelve months ago to strangers and friends.  Her family had been baffled enough. Not understanding how a simple business trip ended up with her never returning home, a marriage, and a baby. All in the span of less than a year. And if they ever found out the whole truth about the 'business trip'...

***

“Are you happy?” Jason asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you happy?” he repeats. “Like genuinely happy. Or are you just stuck?”

“Kid, you must really have a death wish. Asking me stuff like this. What is wrong with you?”

“It's a simple question.”

“It's a nosy ass question. And I don't know you enough to be talking about these things with you.”

“I don't know why it's so hard to answer.”

“I don't know what's so hard for you to understand that I'm not talking about these things with you.  Why are you caught up on my marriage? Jesus.”

“You just don't seem happy is all,” he remarks.

“Well forgive me if this isn't exactly the place I want to be. Dealing with the same kind of bullshit that brought me last year in the first place.  You have no idea what went down.  How bad it went.  So you can't even begin to understand why we are all a little fucked up because of it.”

“Like I said. Just trying to make conversation.”

“Well go and make conversation with someone else, somewhere else. This is not the idea of 'me time' I had when I first came out. So if you don't mind...”

He opens his mouth to continue, but changes his mind.

Several minutes pass by before Esme speaks:

“Are you really that into making yourself feel useful?”

“I like feeling useful.”

“And I can trust you? I need to be able to trust you.”

“You can. One hundred percent.”

“I need you to go to Dhaka and track somebody down. Don't ask me why. You don't need to know why. I just need you to do it.”

“I don't know if it's a good idea to leave. Nik said...”

“I'll take care of Nik,” Esme says.  “I would do this myself, but I've been out of the game for a while now and I have no resources left in Dhaka. All of my people have moved on to other things.  I need you to track this person down and make arrangements for me to meet them. Three days from now. On the Sultana Kamal Bridge. Nowhere else. It has to be that bridge.  Can you do it for me?”

“I'd have to leave tonight. It might take a couple days to even get any info.  Never mind actually arrange a meeting.”

“Leave now if you have to.  But I need you to do this.  Can you? Do this?”'

He sighs heavily. Raking a hand through his sandy hair.  Then slowly nods in confirmation and asks:

“So what's the name?”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #i found

[pastamic]

KiriDeku Fluffy Horror Movie Date Request

     Midoriya didn’t really have any experience with having friends, aside from Kacchan if that even counts, before coming to UA. He never thought he could have such a close relationship with his whole class (even Kacchan! Kinda…) and they’ve only gotten closer since moving into the dorms. It’s an inevitable sort of thing when you not only face life threatening situations with your classmates but come home and cope with the horrors of the world together.

     Despite all of that Midoriya definitely hadn’t expected to find himself dating. In middle school nobody even wanted to be friends with “the quirkless hero wannabe” and dating hadn’t even been within the realm of possibility. So he found it surreal as he sat down next to his (friendly, beautiful, manly, so super cool…) boyfriend amongst his classmates in the common room for their weekly movie night.

     Kirishima had his arm slung around Midoriya’s shoulders as they sat together on the couch wedged between Mina and Uraraka as Mina selected her movie choice for the week. Last week they had watched an action movie for Kirishima’s pick, and the week before that had been an exciting Sci-fi pick from Uraraka.

     They rotated through the entire class and it led to a really adventurous and exciting movie night, but Midoriya couldn’t help but nestle himself closer under Kirishima’s arm, stopping to admire his boyfriend’s broad chest and strong arms just a little bit (okay definitely more than a little bit he’s so strong and such a cool hero…) 

     Ever attentive, Kirishima turned with a soft smile on his face, that contrasted nicely to the toothy grin he usually sported, and nuzzled his nose against Midoriya’s freckled cheek. “You doin’ okay ‘Zuku?” He asked, concern evident despite casually leaning back against the back of the couch. The thrum of pre-movie conversation and shenanigans rumbling around their intimate bubble, neither noticing anything else but each other. 

     Midoriya blushed and flashed Kirishima an embarrassed smile and waved his hands in front of him nervously. “No, no it’s okay! I just always get kinda scared when I watch horror movies! I mean I know that’s what’s supposed to happen but I mean I know I shouldn’t be scared…” He said, trailing off before he started a mumbling storm. 

     Kirishima let out a soft chuckle and gripped Midoriya’s shoulder gently and pressing a kiss to his increasingly red cheek. “I’ve seen you beat down scary creepy villains without so much as a nervous tremble ‘Zuku how’re you scared of a horror movie?!” He asked with a chuckle. 

     “I don’t know Eiji they just make me so nervous! I mean it’s always some kind of unprepared civilian making such stupid mistakes!! How have some of these people survived to make it to the beginning of this movie?!” Midoriya ranted, his hands flailing wildly as he devolved into a mumbling rant. 

     “I can’t argue with you there! Most of these horror movie protagonists really have no idea what they’re talking about, and you wouldn’t be our ‘Zuku if you didn’t want to save anyone you possibly could.” Kirishima said sweetly, grinning brightly and running his hand up Midoriya’s shoulder to run through his soft green curls. 

     Midoriya blushed deeply and clenched his fists in his lap. “Ei-Eji you’re too sweet!” He stammered, biting back a smile at the pleasant feeling of his boyfriend’s fingers running through his hair.

     “Well don’t worry either way! If you’re getting too nervous or scared you can just hold onto me!” Kirishima said, sliding his hands gently back to Midoriya’s shoulder and pulling him in close. 

     “I can’t be too scared if I have the super brave and manly Red Riot with me.” He said sweetly, flashing a dazzling smile of his own and snuggling close to him as someone turned off the lights.

     Kirishima’s deep blush and stuttered reply were interrupted by Bakugo stomping over to his spot on the other side of Mina and barking out a warning. 

     “Alright fuckers the movie’s starting, shut the fuck up for once in your lives!!” He yelled, leaning back in his own spot on the couch. 

      Kirishima and Midoriya both laughed softly, taking a moment to stare sweetly at each other before settling in snuggled together to start watching the movie. The scared nervousness Midoriya usually felt when watching horror movies replaced by giddy butterflies and a soft contentment at being surrounded by the people he loved and being able to just relax and spend time together.

@shirakumohno requested a Fluffy KiriDeku watching a horror movie! I hope you like it Fox! I’m still getting used to writing these characters ^^ 

You can also read it here at my AO3 :3

#kirideku #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #kirishima eijirou #midoriya izuku #deku #requests #ficlet

[cha-d]

Early in the formidable new essay collection “Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning,” the poet Cathy Park Hong delivers a fatalistic state-of-the-race survey. “In the popular imagination,” she writes, “Asian Americans inhabit a vague purgatorial status . . . distrusted by African Americans, ignored by whites, unless we’re being used by whites to keep the black man down.” Asians, she observes, are perceived to be emotionless functionaries, and yet she is always “frantically paddling my feet underwater, always overcompensating to hide my devouring feelings of inadequacy.” Not enough has been said, Hong thinks, about the self-hatred that Asian-Americans experience. It becomes “a comfort,” she writes, “to peck yourself to death. You don’t like how you look, how you sound. You think your Asian features are undefined, like God started pinching out your features and then abandoned you. You hate that there are so many Asians in the room. Who let in all the Asians? you rant in your head.”

Hong, who teaches at Rutgers, is the author of three poetry collections, including “Dance Dance Revolution,” which was published in 2007, and is set in a surreal fictional waystation called the Desert, where the inhabitants speak a constantly evolving creole. (“Me fadder sees dis y decide to learn Engrish righteo dere,” the narrator says.) “Minor Feelings” consists of seven essays; Hong explains the book’s title in an essay called “Stand Up” that centers on Richard Pryor’s “Live in Concert.” Minor feelings are “the racialized range of emotions that are negative, dysphoric, and therefore untelegenic.” One such minor feeling: the deadening sensation of seeing an Asian face on a movie screen and bracing for the ching-chong joke. Another: eating lunch with white schoolmates and perceiving the social tableaux as a frieze in which “everyone else was a relief, while I felt recessed, the declivity that gave everyone else shape.” Minor feelings involve a sense of lack, the knowledge that this lack is a social construction, and resentment of those who constructed it.

In “The End of White Innocence,” Hong describes her childhood home as “tense and petless, with sharp witchy stenches.” Her father drank; her mother, she writes, “beat my sister and me with a fury intended for my father.” Her parents grew up in postwar poverty in Korea—as a child, her father caught sparrows to eat. In order to get a visa to immigrate to the United States, he pretended to be a mechanic, and ended up working for Ryder trucks in Pennsylvania, where he was injured, and fired. He moved to Los Angeles and found a job selling life insurance in Koreatown, then bought a dry-cleaning supply warehouse, and became successful enough to send Hong to private high school and college. He recognized that Americans valued emotional forthrightness in business and developed a particular way of speaking at work. “Thanks for getting those orders in,” Hong remembers him saying on the phone. “Oh, and Kirby, I love you.”

Hong feels ashamed, but not of her proximity to awkward English, or her features, or witchy domestic stenches. “My shame is not cultural but political,” she writes. She is ashamed of the conflicted position of Asian-Americans in the racial and capital hierarchy—the way that subjugation mingles with promise. “If the indebted Asian immigrant thinks they owe their life to America, the child thinks they owe their livelihood to their parents for their suffering,” Hong writes. “The indebted Asian American is therefore the ideal neoliberal subject.” She becomes a “dog cone of shame,” a “urinal cake of shame.” Hong’s metaphors are crafted with stinging care. To be Asian-American, she suggests, is to be tasked with making an injury inaccessible to the body that has been injured. It is to be pissed on at regular intervals while dutifully minimizing the odor of piss.

For a long time, Hong recounts in the book’s first essay, she did not want to write about her Asian identity. By the time she began studying for her M.F.A., at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, she had concluded that doing so was “juvenile”—and she couldn’t find the right form, anyway. The confessional lyric felt too operatic, and realist fiction wasn’t right, either: “I didn’t care to injection-mold my thoughts into an anthropological experience where the reader, after reading my novel, would think, The life of Koreans is so heartbreaking!” In “Stand Up,” she asks, “Will there be a future where I, on the page, am simply I, on the page, and not I, proxy for a whole ethnicity, imploring you to believe we are human beings who feel pain?” The predicament of the Asian-American writer, as Hong articulates it, is to fear that both your existence and your interpretation of that existence will always be read the wrong way. At Iowa, Hong noticed other writers of color stripping out markers of race from their poems and stories to avoid being “branded as identitarians.” It was only later that Hong realized that all of the writers she had noticed doing this were Asian-American.

I read “Minor Feelings” in a fugue of enveloping recognition and distancing flinch. I have tended to interpret my own acquiescence to and resentment of capitalism in generational terms rather than racial ones; many people my age seem to accept economic structures that we find humiliating because we reached adulthood when the margins of resistance appeared to be shrinking. I know, too, that my desire to attain financial stability is connected with a hope, bordering on practical obligation, to protect my parents, as they grow older, from the worst of the country that they immigrated to for my benefit. But, for some reason, I haven’t written very much about that. Was I, like Hong’s grad-school classmates, afraid of being branded as an identitarian? Had I considered the possibility of being positioned as a proxy for an entire ethnic group, and, unlike Hong, turned away?The term “Asian-American” was invented by student activists in California, in the late sixties, who were inspired by the civil-rights movement and dreamed of activating a coalition of people from immigrant backgrounds who might organize against structural inequality. This is not what happened; for years, Asian-Americans were predominantly conservative, though that began changing, gradually, during the Obama years, then sharply under Trump. Today, “Asian-American” mainly signifies people with East Asian ancestry: most Americans, Hong writes, think “Chinese is synecdoche for Asians the way Kleenex is for tissues.” The term, for many people—and for Hollywood—seems to conjure upper-middle-class images: doctors, bankers. (We are imagined as the human equivalent of stainless-steel countertops: serviceable and interchangeable and blandly high-end.) But, although rich Asians earn more money than any other group of people in America, income inequality is also more extreme among Asians than it is within any other racial category. In New York, Asians are the poorest immigrant group.Hong describes a visit to a nail salon, where a surly Vietnamese teen-age boy gives her a painful pedicure. She imagines him and herself as “two negative ions repelling each other,” united and then divided by their discomfort in their own particular Asian positions. Then she pauses. “What evidence do I have that he hated himself?” she wonders. “I wished I had the confidence to bludgeon the public with we like a thousand trumpets against them,” she writes elsewhere. “But I feared the weight of my experiences—as East Asian, professional class, cis female, atheist, contrarian—tipped the scales of a racial group that remains so nonspecific that I wondered if there was any shared language between us. And so, like a snail’s antenna that’s been touched, I retracted the first person plural.” Hong doesn’t fully retract it—“we” appears fairly often in the book—but she favors the second person, deploying a “you” that really means “I,” in the hope that her experience might carry shards of the Asian-American universal.

Throughout the book, Hong at once presumes and doesn’t presume to speak for people whose families come from India, say, or Sri Lanka, or Thailand, or Laos—or the Philippines, where my parents were born. The Philippines were under Spanish control from the sixteenth to the nineteenth century, and under American control until the middle of the twentieth. Many Filipinos have Spanish last names and come to the States speaking English; many have dark skin. In his book “The Latinos of Asia,” the sociologist Anthony Christian Ocampo argues that Filipinos tend to manifest a sort of ethnic flexibility, feeling more at home, compared with members of other Asian ethnic groups, with whites, African-Americans, Latinos, and other Asians. The experience of translating for one’s parents is often framed as definitive for Asian-Americans, but it’s not one that many Filipinos of my generation share; my parents came to North America listening to James Taylor and the Allman Brothers, speaking Tagalog only when they didn’t want their kids to listen. I grew up in a mixed extended family, with uncles who are black and Mexican and Chinese and white. Ocampo cites a study which found that less than half of Filipino-Americans checked “Asian” on forms that asked for racial background—a significant portion of them checked “Pacific Islander,” for no real reason. It denoted proximity to Asian-Americanness, perhaps, without indicating a direct claim to it. (About a month ago, at a doctor’s appointment, an East Asian nurse checked “Pacific Islander” when filling out a form for me.)

“Koreans are self-hating,” one of Hong’s Filipino friends tell her. “Filipinos, not so much.” My experience of racism has been different than Hong’s, as has my response to it. Much of the discourse around Asian-American identity centers on racist images associated with the stereotypical East Asian face: single-lidded eyes, yellow-toned skin, a supposed air of placid impassivity. I don’t have that face, exactly, and I’m not sure that I’ve confronted quite the same assumptions; when I hear people perform gross imitations of “Chinese” accents, I don’t know if it hurts the way it does because I’m an Asian person or because I come from a family of immigrants or simply because racism is embarrassing and foul.

If you escape the dominant experience of Asian-American marginalization, have you necessarily done so by way of avoidance, or denial, or conformity? What can you do when colonization is embedded in your family’s history, in your genetic background, in your very face? If I feel comforted in a room full of Asian people rather than alarmed at the possibility that my inner racial anxieties have been cloned all around me, is this another effect of the psychic freedom I’ve been granted with double eyelids and an ambiguously Western last name, or does it mark progress in the form of a meaningful generational shift? In the decade that separates me from Hong, the currency of whiteness has lost some of its inflated cultural value; one now sees Asian artists and chefs and skateboarders and dirtbags and novelists on the Internet, in the newspaper, and on TV. Is this freedom, or is it the latest form of assimilation? For Asian-Americans, can the two ever be fully distinct?

“Minor Feelings” bled a dormant discomfort out of me with surgical precision. Hong is deeply wary of living and writing to earn the favor of white institutions; like many of us, she has been raised and educated to earn white approval, and the book is an attempt to both acknowledge and excise such tendencies in real time. “Even to declare that I’m writing for myself would still mean I’m writing to a part of me that wants to please white people,” she explains. She’s circling the edges of a trap that often appears in Asian-American consciousness, in which love is suspicious and being unloved is even worse. The editors of “Aiiieeeee!,” one of the first anthologies of Asian-American literature—it was published in 1974—argued that “euphemized white racist love” had combined with legislative racism to mire the Asian-American psyche in a swamp of “self-contempt, self-rejection, and disintegration.” A quarter century later, in her book “The Melancholy of Race,” the literary theorist Anne Anlin Cheng described “the double bind that fetters the racially and ethnically denigrated subject: How is one to love oneself and the other when the very movement toward love is conditioned by the anticipation of denial and failure?” In the introduction to his essay collection “The Souls of Yellow Folk,” published in 2018, Wesley Yang writes about a realization that he regards as “unspeakable precisely because it need never be spoken: that as the bearer of an Asian face in America, you paid some incremental penalty, never absolute, but always omnipresent, that meant that you were default unlovable and unloved.”

The question of lovability, and desirability, is freighted for Asian men and Asian women in very different ways—and “Minor Feelings” serves as a case study in how a feminist point of view can both deepen an inquiry and widen its resonances to something like universality. Essays and articles about Asian-American consciousness often invoke issues of dominance and submission, and they often frame these issues according to the experiences of disenfranchised men. The editors of “Aiiieeeee!” call the stereotypical Asian-American “contemptible because he is womanly”; Yang often identifies the Asian-American condition with male rejection and disaffection. Hong reframes the quandary of negotiating dominance and submission—of desiring dominance, of hating the terms of that dominance, of submitting in the hopes of achieving some facsimile of dominance anyway—as a capitalist dilemma. I found myself thinking about how the interest and favor of white people, white men in particular, both professionally and personally, have insulated me from the feeling of being sidelined by America while compromising my instincts at a level I can barely access. Hong writes, “My ego is in free fall while my superego is boundless, railing that my existence is not enough, never enough, so I become compulsive in my efforts to do better, be better, blindly following this country’s gospel of self-interest, proving my individual worth by expanding my net worth, until I vanish.”

I hate my Asian self the way I worry about being written off as a woman writer—which is to say, not at all. Hong concedes that the self-hating Asian may be “on its way out” with her generation: for me, the formulation still has weight, but does not capture the efflorescence of the present. The question, then, is whether the movement toward love, as Anne Anlin Cheng put it, can be made outside the grasp of coercion. Is there a future of Asian-American identity that’s fundamentally expansive—that can encompass the divergent economic and cultural experiences of Asians in the United States, and form a bridge to the experiences of other marginalized groups?The answer depends on whom Asian-Americans choose to feel affinity and loyalty toward—whether we direct our sympathies to those with more power than us or less, not just outside our jerry-rigged ethnic coalition but within it. The history of Asian-Americans has involved repression and assimilation; it has also, to a degree that is often forgotten, involved radicalism and invention. “Aiiieeeee!” was published by Howard University Press, partly as a result of the friendship that one of its editors, Frank Chin, formed with the radical black writer Ishmael Reed. Gidra, an Asian-American zine that was published in Los Angeles in the nineteen-sixties and seventies, called for the “birth of a new Asian—one who will recognize and deal with injustices.” (Gidra reported on cases of local discrimination and profiled activists such as Yuri Kochiyama; it’s now back in print.) To occupy a conflicted position is also to inhabit a continual opportunity—the chance, to borrow Hong’s words, to “do better, be better,” but in moral and political rather than economic terms.In one of the essays in “Minor Feelings,” called “An Education,” Hong looks back on her friendships in college with two other Asian-American girls—brash, unstable hellions named Erin and Helen. They made art together, they traded poetry, they got drunk and fought and made up. “We had the confidence of white men,” Hong recalls, “which was swiftly cut down after graduation, upon our separation, when each of us had to prove ourselves again and again, because we were, at every stage of our career, underestimated.” The story of their friendship is a story about the way that loving others is often a less complex and more worthy act than loving ourselves—and the way that love can blunt the psychological force of marginalization. If structural oppression is the denial of justice, and if justice is what love looks like in public, then love demonstrated in private sometimes provides what the world doesn’t. Hong is writing in agonized pursuit of a liberation that doesn’t look white—a new sound, a new affect, a new consciousness—and the result feels like what she was waiting for. Her book is a reminder that we can be, and maybe have to be, what others are waiting for, too.

#long reads

[blaugreen]

Nine Albums Later, Tegan and Sara Are Finally Ready to Discuss High School

In a new memoir and an album of songs they wrote as teenagers, the feminist pop stars look back at their traumas, triumphs and life as identical twins.

By Jenn Pelly and Liz Pelly Sept. 24, 2019 Updated 6:33 p.m. ET

To be a twin can be a psychological house of mirrors. And so where better to meet up with Tegan and Sara Quin — feminist pop heroes, freshly minted authors, and, like us, identical twins — than at a kaleidoscopic infinity room in Chelsea? As we left the small mirrored room at the kitschy Museum of Illusions, where our likenesses warped and refracted, we encountered a third set of twins. Reality grew ever more psychedelic, and we snapped a photograph of the six of us to commemorate it.

In their new memoir, “High School,” the Quin sisters alternate chapters to detail their teenage years. Growing up in Canada, they worshiped Nirvana, Green Day and the Smashing Pumpkins. They discovered and explored their sexuality. They sneaked out to raves, dropped acid, fought authority. When a classmate spewed homophobic statements during a lesson on STDs, Sara hurled a chair across the room. In the end, the twins competed in a life-changing battle of the bands. “If we don’t win tonight,” Tegan said onstage, “our mom is going to make us go to college.” They won.

While gathering their research for the book, Tegan and Sara found cassettes of some of their earliest songs. And so “High School” is accompanied by a new album, “Hey, I’m Just Like You,” featuring polished-up re-workings of those unearthed demos. Some of the songs evoke the ’90s indie pop of the band’s Lilith Fair era, while others could be the seeds of electronic-dance bangers. The connective thread is the unguarded emotionality of a teenage perspective.

This multimedia set is yet more experimentation from a band that, across nine albums, has moved from folky indie rock into synth-driven dance tracks and mainstream pop. Tegan and Sara sang “Everything Is Awesome” (“The Lego Movie” theme song) at the 2015 Oscars, and have performed with Taylor Swift. In 2016 they launched their Tegan and Sara Foundation, to benefit organizations committed to health, economic justice and representation for L.G.B.T.Q. girls and women.

During a conversation at a downtown cafe, Tegan was forthright and unapologetic, while Sara was analytical, using an app to astrologically survey our twin-by-twin dynamic. They frequently chipped at each other’s memories and perspectives to hone the truth and soon turned the questions on us: Did we feel ever competitive with each another, or encroached upon, as twins with the same career? These are excerpts from the conversation.

JENN PELLY As identical twins, we have strengths and weaknesses that are different but complementary. I often think: If you put us back together, we would be a perfect person. Do you relate?

TEGAN AND SARA QUIN 100 percent.

SARA I wouldn’t be as extreme, if Tegan wasn’t Tegan. I would have balanced myself differently. When Tegan would go through a dark stage, and be a little more chaotic, I would straighten up and be more disciplined. When Tegan went through a punk stage and started getting tattoos everywhere, I was like, I’m going to wear tailored clothing.

LIZ PELLY I think some twins learn early on that collaboration requires compromise and patience.

SARA A lot of people will say, “I have mommy issues” or “daddy issues.” I have Tegan issues. A lot of my hangups or dysfunctions in relationships are based on our primary relationship as children — what worked for us, what didn’t, how difficult it was to share the same face.

Most people sort of break up with their mom or their dad when they go out into the world and become adults. With us, it’s like we broke up, but decided to co-parent our music career.

TEGAN I believe there is a deep desire in Sara to define herself outside of this duo, like she’s cutting off an appendage. It’s not sad for me anymore, but it was at first. We are better together. Our songs are more developed together, and we stand out in a crowd together. It’s very complicated, to want to sever and tether at the same time, this mix of emotions that’s feuding inside of you at all times: We desperately want to be apart, and be our own people, but I need her to thrive and survive.

JENN Explain the mirror on the cover of “High School.”

TEGAN The mirror is distorted, and so is our perception of ourselves, and of the past, and of each other. In writing the book, it was like: That’s what you remember? That’s what you thought was happening? Over the years, I’ve realized there’s this unfair weight put on our shoulders to represent both of us. It’s a psychic burden; you’re responsible for each other.

JENN One passage that shocked me was when you discover you’ve both been playing music alone. Liz and I talk about cryptophasia a lot, a secret language that some twins share. Is that how it felt?

SARA When I discovered the guitar, I didn’t need to know Tegan was also discovering the guitar. When I figured out I was attracted to my best friend, I just assumed Tegan was figuring out she was attracted to her best friend. I assumed there was this parallel experience happening at all times.

TEGAN I was shocked you had been doing the same things.

SARA Discovering the guitar and writing songs felt like an epiphany, like a miracle. I had been so bad at so many things. This was the one time in my life I picked something up, and I knew how to do it. It felt like a gift, like it saved me. I wanted to protect that for a second, in that little tiny moment where I was doing it alone. But playing with Tegan, I knew it was bigger and better and more special and more seductive to people.

JENN You write about not fitting in with the punks, while also offending people in school because of the way you dressed, like outsiders among outsiders. Did you embolden each other?

SARA I felt alienated at punk shows. I walked in with that chip on my shoulder — “I don’t belong” — and Tegan threw her bag on the wall, walked into the pit, banged her head and thrashed.

TEGAN I always felt, if you want to be in that room, go in that room. If you want to be invited there, go. If you want to be a part of things, be a part.

JENN I wonder if some of this confidence comes from having a built in support system — the us against the world type thing.

TEGAN I never needed an external source to inspire me. It’s inside of me. I want to make my own rules. I don’t want to ask permission. There were long stretches of our career where I felt Sara dwelled on meaningless things. But she was finding a way to work through, and I worked my way around.

There were certain criticisms made of us, early on, that felt unfair. They did not feel like musical criticisms. They felt borderline or blatantly misogynist. My reaction was to design a T-shirt with all of the quotes — Spin magazine: “Wicca-folk nightmare.” Pitchfork: “Tampon rock.” I wanted to sell it on our website, and embrace the part of our history that made us as tough as we are now — not hardened, not bitter, but thrilled to be a part of this still. Because we got around it, and she got through it, and we’re still here.

SARA I always had a more institutional perspective. It wasn’t “tampon rock” that bothered me, it was sexism that bothered me. It was homophobia that bothered me.

The only reason I’m still making music, in this band, is because Tegan was championing me and cheering me on and trying to get me past these obstacles. But I didn’t feel sorry for myself. I felt furious at the industry, at the institutions that were inherently flawed and discriminatory. Even as a young person, I thought: If we’re the ones making it, and I feel this bad, Jesus, what does it feel like to be the artist that isn’t breaking through? I appreciated Tegan going around the obstacles, but I was like: I want to put dynamite under the obstacle and blow it up. We really have struggled with that dynamic.

A lot of that was planted early in our lives. Tegan’s coming out story is so different. She didn’t face the same type of homophobia. She didn’t have the same type of trauma as I did. Tegan holds her girlfriend’s hand on the street. I don’t. I’m afraid. I don’t care how big WorldPride is or how many cool new queer artists are on the covers of magazines. My experience informed how I react to the world. And that sometimes is hard to reconcile.

JENN I was thinking about your song “Nineteen” from “The Con,” which also describes your teenage years. Do you feel you’ve been reflecting on this part of your life for a while now?

TEGAN When we started talking about other songs that could be included [on our upcoming tour], the first song I thought of was “Nineteen.” I thought about how much of our music harkens back to that high school period. We’ve been diminished over and over throughout our careers for only writing love songs. But what we were really writing about was relationships, including the ones with ourselves — about family, friends, work. You talk about everything when you’re talking about relationships. There’s something about tethering the old songs to the modern age that becomes very cinematic for me. It starts to tell a bigger story.

LIZ You’ve described “You Go Away and I Don’t Mind,” from the new album, as being about the futility of fame. What is it like to reflect on that now that you are famous?

SARA I think that is the most strangely prophetic song. It was very surreal to read those lyrics all of these years later. Because for me, it’s very coherent. Since we were little, we had drawn undeserved or unearned attention. We would go to the mall as little kids and people would touch us. And that’s very disorienting and destabilizing as a young person. I think we did feel popular but it felt false. And in a lot of ways that echoes what it feels like to be famous or to be a celebrity in some ways. It can feel very empty.

JENN In part of the book, a friend’s brother asks you to jam, and you talk about how badly you wanted to be taken seriously. Was there a point in which you finally felt like you were taken seriously?

TEGAN To this day there’s a part of us that doesn’t feel like we’ve been taken that seriously, and I think all women probably feel that way. But we’ve now spent the majority of our adult life doing the thing we love, and we’re approached every day by people who are like, “I exist because of you.” Things like the Grammys become less important when you have an entire generation of people who are grateful you were bold and open about being gay before it was cool.

SARA We want journalists and fans, and culture at large, to reconcile how we see young women as artists — and when we begin seeing art as valuable. With our new songs, there are going to be people who say, “Oh, isn’t it cute? They released songs from when they were in high school.” But we want this music to be taken seriously. Not because we’re 38 years old and rerecording these songs, but because we were 15, 16 and 17 years old when we wrote them. And as 38-year-old women who have been around the world, who have experienced so much, I still think there is value in what I had to say. I went back and listened to that music and decided it is valuable.

TEGAN Actually I did first and then you did two months later.

SARA We are challenging people to see this work as sophisticated and mature and ahead of its time.

When we were teenagers, our music was written about as “rudimentary, but geez, there is something there.” It wasn’t rudimentary. There was something remarkable about what we were trying to say. There is something so profound about your first experiences. I fell in love multiple times. I was depressed. I was suicidal. I was passionate. I fought with my mother. I broke up with my sister. Those are some of the biggest moments of my life. How am I supposed to just write them off, like, “Oh who cares, I was a teenager.”

LIZ We’re taught that thinking in an emotionally-charged way is something for your teenage years. But actually, that sort of emotional intensity is powerful to carry with you throughout your life.

SARA I have a visceral memory of sitting down to write the song “Hello” at the end of grade 12. I had been devastated by this girl, Zoe, in the book — I loved her, and she was like, “I don’t like girls.” I was grappling with all of these big things. And I remember thinking, “I wish I was older. I wish I knew how to get through this.” I’m 38 years old, and every time I sing that line, I feel that right now. I wish I knew how to do this better. I don’t understand why I’m still suffering. I don’t understand why I’m still not better.

TEGAN It’s powerful to acknowledge that you don’t have all of the answers yet.

SARA When I sat down and listened to the demos, I just thought: I’m so glad little Tegan and Sara wrote all this music. They were better at addressing my feelings than I am right now.

#tegan and sara #tegan quin #sara quin #tns interview #sweet baby jesus hi-res photos #beat the paywall

[juliebalfourhnd2cphoto]

Personal Project

The Lewis Dresser (working title)

The purpose of this project is to produce 10, A3 Fine Art images on a common theme, “The Lewis Dresser”. (15 types of photography genres to pursue as a professional photographer, 2020)

Creative idea: last year during my NQ I took images for my painting with light project of an old typewriter and an uncooked Plaice on a platter. The latter turned out fairly well, but more importantly it sparked within me an enthusiasm and desire to progress in this medium.

The platter was part of a collection that we had “rescued” from my late father-in-Law’s Croft on the Isle of Lewis before its sale, they have no real value apart from sentimental.

The croft is located near the cliff edge, overlooking the sea and is a beautiful windswept location just a few minutes’ walk from the lighthouse at the end of the Island.

As I have wanted to develop the idea further (I jot down potential ideas for projects in a wee notebook that I carry around with me) I have been considering ways I could do this.

Using the large collection of crockery we brought from the island I propose a series of still-life using a painting with light technique. I want to give it a flavour of the isles and as Lewis is known predominantly for its, fishing, weaving and crofting (The Isle Of Lewis, 2020).

My Initial thought was of limiting it to seafood which I would source through a  fishmongers who sell seafood caught from the Loch Fyne area , but in the current climate with shops closing every day, I may have to widen my food sources but keep within the theme of ingredients for traditional Scottish fare. (Redirecting..., 2020)

Technique: during this project I want to develop and improve my painting with light   technique.

As I said previously It is a medium that I have been interested in since it was first introduced to me in my NQ class and it has always been my intention to develop it, but the briefs this year have been fast and furious and opportunities to explore our own projects have been few .

I have been looking forward to this brief and the chance it offers to pursue my own interests.

Research: As part of this project I will expand my knowledge of photographers and artist who have inspired and influenced my work. (How to Plan a Photo Project * Anthony Epes, 2020)

Harold Ross

(PhotoBiography: Harold Ross | International Photography Magazine, 2020)

(MacDonald, 2020)

When painting with light my first thought is Harold Ross, I really admire his work. The way he uses light to accentuate the details of his subject creates stunning, surreal photos. Ross uses a variety sizes and softness of light tools to sculpt the images and builds up his photographic images incrementally building layer upon layer in Photoshop. He describes the process as more intuitive than technical and there is a great deal of artistry evident in his work.

This method requires the subject to be shot in a darkened room, the camera should be on timer and tripod mounted (as you are layering the camera needs to remain in a fixed position and at a fixed focal length.) I find it best to focus your subject in auto and once it is fixed, change to manual. If you try to shoot in auto the lens will move in and out of to focus when you paint the light onto your object.

The room needs to be darkened for this to be effective and I intend to shoot in late afternoon or early evening to avoid the “borrowed light” that comes in through the opening near the ceiling of my studio (if I am unable to access my studio I will set aside an area in the flat to work in).

Ross advises that he shoots tethered and this is something I have never done but I would like to add this to my skills set and will research the method further. I have begun accessing online tutorials and been having discussions about this with other Olympus users on the Facebook group I am part of. (Step by Step Tutorial for How to Shoot Tethered, 2020)

Laura Letinsky  

(Laura Letinsky → THE DOG AND THE WOLF, 2020)

Letinsky is another photographer that I have come to admire since I began studying photography, I love the way she uses light, and the narrative quality of her work. Her compositions, which at first glance seem haphazard shots of the remnants of hurried meals, abandoned dishes, vestiges of parties, are in fact very carefully arranged.

She uses light to pick out every crease, crumb and fragment within the frame, telling us not only what we see in front of us, but what happened before and what will come after. My earlier shots were very tightly focussed on the subject but perhaps there is scope to pull back and tell a bigger picture.

Mat Collinshaw

(Last Meals on Death Row, Texas - Photo Essays, 2020)

Collinshaw is categorised along with Letinsky, and many notable others, such as Paulette Tavormina and Margriet Smulders, as a photographer who can be defined, at least in his still life, as “Vanitas”. (Still Life Photographers Who Give a Fresh Meaning to Vanitas, 2020). That is that the work either through lighting, content or context leans towards works of the old masters of the Dutch and Flemish painters of the 17th century. Messages such as the transience of life and the beauty of nature were intrinsic in these paintings and strong symbolism was seen in the inclusion of skulls, dead animals or dramatic chiaroscuro lighting.

These traits can be seen in the contemporary work of both Collinshaw, and Letinsky, she with her depictions of dead creatures and decaying food and flowers, he with his slightly voyeuristic look into the thoughts of the condemned man and his deeply dark lit photographs.  

There is something slightly morbid about working with a dead creature, particularly in the dark, exploring piece by piece, that I find chilling and it is important to ensure that the beauty of the subject exceeds this, a difficult balance I have found in the past.

Alicide d’Orbigny

(Dance of the Aymara People | Old Book Illustrations, 2020)

D’ Orbigny was neither a photographer nor an artist, he was a French Micro Palaeontologist in the early 19th century. (Alcide Dessalines d' Orbigny | French paleontologist, 2020)

His anatomical illustrations, particularly those of sea creatures are stunning. He not only created biologically accurate depictions but used colours which captured the vibrance and other worldliness that many of these creatures possessed and that caused so many myths to grow up around them.

I came upon one of his images as an illustration in a cookbook that I was gifted and was so struck by the beauty of it that I researched him and found a wealth of beautiful illustrations (sadly my knowledge of palaeontology has made no progress). I cite D’Orbigny as an inspiration for this project as I think painting with light reveals much hidden beauty in subjects such as sea-life and yet retains a realism.

My “ambitious outcome” for this project is that I produce something that is well crafted, beautiful and could be considered fine art. I hope that the images will be finely detailed and that the process through which they are shot adds a dimension to them which cannot be captured in a single shot alone. This is hugely ambitious for one photograph but to produce 10 such images seems unimaginable. It is a very time-consuming process and time is limited but it will be a photography adventure and without doubt a learning experience.

Exhibition

The question “how would I like it to be viewed” is a complex one as ,first and foremost ,this is a personal journey and in a way a homage to the father-in-law I never met but have heard so much of, to his homeland and the place that is held dear in the heart of my husband and his family.

It is also a way of placing a new value on these old and fragile objects imbuing them with fresh life; sentimental and personal.

Alongside this is a need to show progression in my photography skills and my creative ability, both to friends and peers, and finally if the work holds any merit as fine art then I would like to organise a small exhibition.

The campus where my studio is based has an exhibition area which would be ideal for this type of informal exhibition preferably in conjunction with some of my fellow classmates. I have contacted the building’s owner* to check on the viability, the space is freely available to tenants for non-commercial ventures and has dates open for this year. At this stage I haven’t spoken to any of my classmates about it, but I am confident that there would be enough interest to set up a class launch.

*see attached email.

I have given some thought on how I think I would display my work; prints sized A3 and mounted will be printed on Hahnemuble German etching, Hahnemuble photo rag ,or Hahnemuble smooth as I want the images to have a fine art textural quality to them and reduce any shine. I like the textures of each of these products but will obviously make a final decision once the images are edited and optimised.

Technically a good knowledge of the camera, use of lens, depth of field and focal point  and lighting techniques is essential, as is an understanding of the aesthetics of the technique, my skills in this area are adequate but I hope by the end of this project they will be considerably improved.

The main pieces of gear I will be using for this will be:

My Olympus EM1X DSLR mirrorless camera

An Olympus micro 4/3 lens 12- 40 mm Lens

A tripod

Light tools modelled on those demonstrated on Harold Ross’ websites

Black card flags

A reflector

A MacBook air with photoshop software.

Approximate settings: (based on previous shoots)

2.0 secs @ F8.00, ISO 100, focal length 18 mm

This type of shoot is really a solitary activity and, because of current restrictions due to the Corona virus precautions, is one of the main reasons I have chosen this rather than my other plan, I will be able to do it without assistance.

Materials needed;

Workroom which can be darkened.

Small backdrop and base

Seafood – I have already purchased and frozen a selection of this which can be thawed as required.

A selection of Lewis crockery

Consumable items as required, see costs:

Costs –

Backdrops/base materials - 4 backdrops from Black velvet - £36.00

Food products - Fish, meats vegetables                    Approx. £30.00

Printing costs - 10 prints @ £8.00                                             £80.00

Travel                N/a working from home

Misc                   Buffer for incidentals                                       £20.00

Total                                                                                           £166.00

1815 Words.

RISK ASSESSMENT

Project: The Lewis Dresser

Location Name: Home address

Tel:XXXXXXXXXXX

Tick any identified hazard.

o Access (blocked or restricted)            o Dangerous surfaces (slippery, wet)

o Vehicle parking at location                  X Trip Hazards Found

o Dangerous Services (elec/y, water).    o Derelict Buildings (unsafe floors)

X Working in confined spaces              oHazardous Substances (chemicals)

o Flammable Materials                            o Water (proximity to water)    

o Rubbish/Vermin                                     o Machinery (working, turning parts)

o Working at Height                                             o Working on/near roads            

o Driving in traffic                                     o Noise (high sound levels)

o Weapons                                                  o Stunts

o Extreme Heat/Cold                                o Physical Exertion            

o Using animals                                          o Hostile Environment (violence)          

o Special Needs (inexperienced, child, elderly)  o Public/ Crowds

o Other Hazards.

   Please specify

HAZARD SEVERITY - H / M / L  Confined space - Low,  Trip hazards - Low

People at Risk - Who photographer, how many? -1

Likelihood. H / M / L

Risk Control Adequate - Yes / No

Are the precautions proportionate to the overall risk?

Please expand this document as required to properly assess your risk

Details of Activity

Photography, low light photography using darkened room, tripod ,handheld lights.

Set up will be confined to blocked of area of 1 room, wire to be secured using heavy duty tracking.

Confined space in darkened room.

Trip Hazards

Ensure floor is clear of obstacles before switching off lights.

Use of headlamp for safe visibility.

Make sure no items are near edges or trailing. Secure cables with heavy duty cable.

Source of safety advice at location

Name : Julie Balfour

Signed:

Julie Balfour

Date:

25.03.2020

College Contact

Name:

Faculty Admin Assistance

Tel:

0141 375 5226

Signed:

(Donna Wilkins)

Date:

Session 2019/ 20

Risk Assessment undertaken by:

This must be signed before the Shoot can go ahead.

I have read the above risk assessment and am satisfied that:

·      Constitutes a proper and adequate risk assessment in respect of the programme activity.

·      The precautions identified above are sufficient to control the risks.

·      Adequate arrangements are in place to communicate risk assessment findings and to co-ordinate the safety arrangements of all those affected.

Plan your first 8steps – whilst this is likely to change, it can provide a loose framework Remember to account for additional opportunities

As I have a small studio space it is my intention to work from there, if however the studio has to close for any reason I will relocate to a space in my flat.

I have ordered some online backdrops which may compliment my compositions

I will be visiting the local fishmongers and buying in the foods I plan to shoot, these can be frozen until needed.

I will set up my backdrops and experiment with lighting etc until I am happy with the set up.

From my research it seems that it would be beneficial if I could shoot tethered so I will be researching how to do this while I await feedback on my proposal.

I have a number of Light tools already but I will research this further and add to these.

I will continue to work on my photoshopping skills so that I can get the best possible results from layered images.

As I want the final images to be in the Fine Art genre I will be printing on a Hahnemuble paper, type to be decided.

References

Anthony Epes. 2020. How To Plan A Photo Project * Anthony Epes. [online] Available at: <https://www.citiesatdawn.com/how-to-plan-a-photo-project/> [Accessed 25 March 2020].

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#PersonalProject #Gradedunitproposal #gradedunit #HND1

[dontstopbereaving]

I don’t have a story

The podcast I co-host got sponsored by a new-wave bra company that champions body positivity and body diversity, and as part of our advertising agreement I had to order a bra from them. I was very interested and excited in this, because bra shopping has more or less been a non-question for me. Blessed with what would probably be a 36AA if such a bra was ever manufactured — I am wide and flat and should have been a swimmer, probably — the adolescent horror and thrill of suddenly having boobs to manage and shop for has never really been on the table. I remember so vividly, the summer between my freshman and sophomore year, staying with an old friend from middle school and hanging out in her bedroom. She was lying on her bed and reading a magazine and said, apropos of nothing, "ugh, don't you hate it when your boobs slide down to your armpits when you're reading?" I nodded, having no idea what she was talking about.

Anyway, this bra company didn't carry a 36AA, but after taking a quiz about what $68 expertly engineered bra would be perfect for me, I ordered whatever they recommended. It arrived wrapped in delicate pink tissue paper, and I took it out and held it up and felt my heart sink. I knew from looking at it that it would look ridiculous on me; trying it on confirmed that. They had a number to call where you could talk to a "fit specialist" and of course I did that, and some nice girl in the Bay Area told me that if that bra didn't fit me, they had a selection of leisurewear bralettes.

But I don't want a bralette, dammit! I am not a tween, and though they aren't much to write home about I do have breasts that must be managed. This company's advertising seems to trumpet the arrival of a "bra for every woman," and even within their progressive spectrum of what that means, I fell on the outside of it. The whole process carried a lot more gravity than I expected.

The bra arrived in the heat of the Brett Kavanaugh confirmation firestorm, which had me on edge and moody all week for both the obvious reasons and reasons that I was more confused about articulating, or whether or not I should. The prospect of an attempted rapist and alcoholic being given a post in the highest court in the land is the most harrowing and torturous chapter of the MeToo world we now live in, and the stories from my friend and peers and people I don't know but follow on Twitter started being dropped almost hourly. Most women I know have been raped or sexually assaulted in their lives. The most visible and audible woman's experience right now is that of the victim; those with platforms and followings are being encouraged to share their story in solidarity, in order to shore up the most prominent, contested ones, to create a narrative that yes, this does happen, it happens all the time.

I don't have a rape story, and I don't have an assault story. In the past year, wondering why I don't has led me down a weird guilt spiral that inevitably ends with the re-realization that there's no reason that I don't. There's nothing I did right. It just didn't happen to me. This is disconcerting to me, in the context of a life where I have always felt left out of the things that supposedly comprise the experience of being a woman. It's not just the bra thing, though that's a useful metaphor. I've always felt left out of femininity, I've always had more male friends than female friends, going back to early childhood. Girls tormented me as a child, and as an adolescent, and as an adult; on the whole I have felt the emotional violence of other women more acutely than that of men. And yet, I know the latter exists.

Sometimes it feels like sharing one's own story of assault is the only powerful tool a woman can have against a patriarchy in its violent death throes, which often leaves me feeling useless in our social media-driven dialogue. The stories of sexual violence coming from women both famous and not, while harrowing, has also, to this outsider at least, appeared as a kind of global bonding experience. Which is really important for those who have been victims. But I want there to be a language for women to be advocates for each other that goes beyond "me, too" in its most literal sense. Because I cannot honestly say "me, too," and yet, nearly any woman I've ever been close with enough has told me about that time in college, or that date that went bad, or that time in eighth grade. I believe them, and I believe women I've never met before, not because it's happened to me, too, but because I know how the world works and I believe them.

I want to tell one story that is not a rape story, but it is a Hollywood story, and it's a story about a powerful Hollywood man. This story might not end the way you think it will!

When I was in college, a male classmate of mine wanted to cast a famous actor, let's call him Gary, in his thesis film. His dad had some connections, and I had gamely signed on to be my friend's AD, which meant when he went to a swanky event with the purpose of being introduced to this guy and hopefully turning it into a collaboration, he asked me to come along. I was excited, we were very young and to land this actor for a student film would be a coup; it felt like a bank heist. On the way over we were giddy and silly, "what if Gary says yes? What if he wants to do a feature?" etc etc. It was fun to at least be party to a young white man's Hollywood dreams on the cusp of coming true.

We went to the venue with his father. I expected that at some point my friend's dad would introduce us to Gary, and then let us take the lead and talk about this film my friend wanted to make. But my friend's dad didn't seem to know how to go about it. Maybe he didn't really know Gary at all. Who knows. My friend had also frozen up, and I remember sitting at the bar, my gaze going from this father and son, over to Gary in the corner of the room, who looked all too approachable. "You guys are too scared?" I asked incredulously. "Why don't you go over and charm him with your feminine wiles," my friend said. It was a joke, but of course it wasn't, and I felt like I had a lot to prove, so I went over and introduced myself to Gary.

I don't remember much about our conversation, I remember his eyes on me, and I remember feeling giddy and high with the power of his attention. I should maybe emphasize — Gary is extremely famous. You all know who he is and you probably love him. He has a pretty stellar reputation. I didn't have a particular thing for him, but after that conversation I remember feeling like I understood what real stardom was about. I had "dated" a minor TV star very briefly before that but this was on another level. Still, I was very mission-oriented, and made sure the conversation came back to praising my friend's script, and how awesome the film was going to be. I told him he had to see the film he had worked on with his dad, that had played at Berlin — Berlin! — so he could appreciate their genius. Gary seemed amenable to this. I had some little note cards from a Japanese stationary store in Little Tokyo on me, and I wrote my phone number down on one of them and gave it to Gary, who seemed beyond charmed. Then I went back to my friend and his dad, buzzing, but cynical enough to shrug. "I'm sure he'll never get in touch, but we'll see!"

We left shortly after. I remember wondering if this had been the plan all along, to throw me at Gary like in order to have an audacious, talked-about thesis film. I probably felt more flattered at the time than anything else to be considered worthy bait.

I remember where I was when Gary called my little Motorola flip phone — in my cubicle at the camera shop I worked at, probably reading Jezebel. I remember the surreality of his voice — that voice! — coming through the speaker. "This is Gary," he said. Duh, I thought. He wanted to know if I wanted to see a movie with him, maybe get dinner after. Ever the professional, I asked if we would talk about my friend's film. He seemed uninterested. I also, it should be mentioned, had a boyfriend at the time, and though I was starstruck I was not starstruck enough to just go to dinner and a movie with Gary with no pretense of artistic ambition on the table. I refused politely, but said that if he ever wanted to watch the film, I would get him a copy.

My friend, obviously, was tickled beyond belief by all this. This had become a secret extracurricular, a spy mission we would whisper about in between classes. My friend was adamant that we get Gary a screener of my friend's father's film, and soon I had negotiated an arrangement, with the stipulation that I now wonder about the legitimacy of, that I could not just leave it with him. I had to watch it with him, at his house, and take the DVD with me.

I remember driving up the winding hills to Gary's house, playing M.I.A.'s Kala extremely loudly to pump myself up. I remember being buzzed in at the gate and walking up a staircase through tropical plants and water features until I arrived at Gary's modernist, castle-like home perched in the hills. I remember how empty his home was, how sad it seemed. He asked if I wanted anything to drink, and I said, water, and he opened up his impressive Sub-Zero which contained a Brita pitcher and a lone tray of grocery store sushi.

We went to the living room, me clutching the little plastic DVD case like it was the one legitimizing thing in the whole room. I was there to help my friend, I was there to help my friend. I gave it to Gary, and he put it in the DVD player — shockingly, the DVD player in the living room didn't work. We would have to go to the one in his bedroom.

I don't remember if I could see right through this at the time, certainly by the next day I could. Gary put in the DVD in his bedroom entertainment system and then laid back on his California King bed, his lanky legs crossed over the fur throw. He held out one arm, beckoning me, and I pretended not to notice. There was a small ottoman at the foot of the bed, and I sat on it, hunched forward throughout the entirety of my friend's dad's stupid awful sophomoric Berlinale-approved movie, sipping on my water, being so good and professional and helpful.

Gary eventually turned down the opportunity to be in my friend's UCLA undergrad thesis film, no fucking shit. I never heard from him again. I wonder if what would have happened if I would have joined him on the bed, and if my friend would have had Gary — THE Gary, in his thesis film, and if it would have set him off on an exciting idiosyncratic career as a young auteur. How great that would have been for my friend.

I got a lot of mileage out of that story for many years — the time I went to Gary's house and he tried to get me to watch a movie with him in his bed. I played it up for laughs. I was certain that I looked like the cool person in that story.

A few things I appreciate a decade after the Gary incident:

Gary never tried anything with me. I sat on that ottoman, and there I stayed. I took the DVD with me when I left, he kissed my cheek, and that was that. Gary, in my experience at least, was a good guy in a Hollywood full of bad ones, and I was lucky.

My friend 100% tried to offer me up as bait to get Gary to be in his UCLA undergraduate thesis film, and so did his adult father, and this was funny to them.

Yes, I was good and drank water and sat on the ottoman, but Gary is a big person, and if he wanted to change that he could have. It wouldn't have mattered what I did right

Whenever I see Gary in a film — or in person, which has happened a few times because of my job — I get incredibly anxious and crazy feeling, despite the fact that he was good and really didn't do anything wrong — because I remember being in that weird empty luxurious house, and now I can look back and realize how young and dumb I was and how one of my young dumb male peers decided to use that to his advantage.

The MeToo movement has me reinterrogating events like this and others, where I was powerless but the worst didn't befall me. Why, why, why? It's a stupid question. Is there something about me that just doesn't attract violent men, socially or romantically? Is it my AA tits? My general left-behindness in all things popularly understood to be a part of the "female experience?" I've been so stupid, so many times, and experienced plenty of degrading shit that still doesn't fall into the category of assault and isn't something worth airing because it doesn't torture me; I don't have PTSD, it hasn't meaningfully disrupted my life. (My own brain does that on its own.) This is not the moment for non-stories like mine.

But I absolutely believe that there was nothing particularly game-changing that kept any of that from happening to me. And I understand the dynamics of a scene like that — where you're alone in a guy's house way up in the hills and he's the one with all the power, when you're alone with a guy in his car and he won't unlock the door to let you out, when you black out and find out a guy you thought was your friend was throwing himself on you in your absence. Any of those guys could have been rapists, and they weren't. Nothing about me or my actions would have changed that.

I have felt pent up with all of this for a year, as soon as it became apparent that the dominant dialogue among women would be sharing stories of trauma and violence. Because I don't have a tale of horror to peel off and lay before the reading public, but I have just a regular-ass life experience that absolutely corroborates all those tales of horror. It is not much — and I hope it stays that way. But I thought I'd share it.