#you still get ads. but you can just refresh the page and it goes away

[sonknuxadow]

its so wild to me that people actually PAY for spotify premium. you know that theyre just charging you money for features that are free on the web player right

#you can skip as much as you want and youre not forced to listen on shuffle all the time #you can pick any song you want to listen to and you can listen to albums in order #you still get ads. but you can just refresh the page and it goes away #i know some people mostly just use it in the car and thats why they have premium #but if youre mostly listening at home theres no reason to waste your money on that #unless you only have access to the app

[katsukikitten]

Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader

[awesomerextyphoon]

I love your writing. May I have Loki x Reader? The reader is a sweet, delicate dreamer. Loki has come to conquer the world. He saw her and wants her to become his Queen of Midgard. He kidnapped her. She pleads with him to let her go while she is tied to the bed. He caresses her hair and says she will love him (he doesn't want to use the scepter on her).

***Can I have White Reader x Loki, please? Loki just escaped from the Helicarrier. He saw the reader who is a sweet and innocent creature. Loki doesn't want her dead when he will start battle. Loki kidnaps her and locks her up to keep her safe. When he wins, Loki tells her that she will become his queen.***

Hi! I decided to combine the prompts and make the reader plus-sized. I hope you enjoy! 

His Match

Pairing: Dark!Loki x Plus-Sized Female Reader 

Summary: You’ve tried to live by your grandmother’s rule  of being kind to others, even when the world gives you the middle finger. What if a Norse God decided reward you by becoming his Queen?

Word Count: 1,745

Rating: 18+/Mature

Warning: Kidnapping, Implied Dub/Non-Con, Angst, and some Violence

A/N: Thanks goes to the amazing @angrythingstarlight for beta reading this!

Loki was walking around New York City, scouting Stark Tower making sure the final preparations of his plan was perfect when something, or rather someone, caught his eye.

She walked out of what looked like a women’s clothing store with a forlorn smile. She was plumper than the average female Midgardian last time he frequented the realm. His eyes did not miss the enticing curves that lied beneath her clothes despite her efforts to ensconce herself into the background.

She was a vision.

Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments and it felt like time stopped. His heart quickened in his chest and a rush of blood surged to his groin.

He had to follow her. His Elskan.

“Barton, tell the others I’ll be out for a few more hours. Proceed as planned.”

–––––

He found you entering a rather destitute apartment complex. Its lights and foundation were a bit unsound and gave off a seedy ambience.

Loki grimaced at her living conditions. When he ruled Midgard, she would have only the best.

Casting a simple concealment spell, Loki entered her fairly small apartment. She began mixing ingredients together for what looked to be ‘chocolate chip cookies’. He smiled as he inhaled the sweet aroma knowingly; Asgard had only recently started consuming the sweet. She soon laid out a batch of thick, scrumptious cookies with a satisfied expression.

They reminded him of better times when he and Thor would sneak into the kitchens and swipe confections from under the baker’s nose. Loki chuckled at the memory; those were the days.

Not ten minutes after she placed the last cookie onto the cooling rack did her phone ring. It was her mother. Loki felt dread coming off his Elskan in waves.

Loki could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation, if you could call it that. Her mother constantly nagged her about her weight, life choices, and her ‘pathetic’ attempts to get over her ex-boyfriend. His heart broke as he saw tears begin to fall and the croaking of her voice as she bid the odious creature goodnight.

Several minutes after she cried herself to sleep, Loki entered his Elskan’s bedroom. He spied her diary on the nightstand and decided to read a few pages.

He was fuming within two minutes.

How dare that caustic pig sow treat his Elskan, her own daughter, in a such ghastly manner! Her ‘perfect’ sister always slighting and reminding her on how ‘she’ll never be good enough for anything’ and her father’s callous indifference to her cries for help and solace only added to his rage. Combined with the way her ex-boyfriend, the repugnant gnat, treated her (he cheated on her with someone who ‘wasn’t built like a blimp’ and ‘the only thing you thing you had going for you were your tits’) and he wanted to speed up the invasion just to watch the horror become engrained onto their faces.

And yet, she endeavored to treat everyone with kindness harkening back to your grandmother. She strived to be the one light in one’s otherwise miserable existence.

Well, she can be his light as his Elskan and Queen.

Loki took a deep, cleansing breath. He needed to stick to the plan. When he conquers Midgard, she will be their queen. She will grace the undeserving masses with her elegance and beauty and he will worship her every chance he got.

He just had to make her see it that way.

Gently, the light forest green glow of Loki's magic flowed from his hand to the crown of her head like a halo. He leaned in and kissed her cheek with a smile as he left.

He hated to leave her, but he had a realm to conquer. Though he hoped she’d enjoy the introductory gift.

––––––

You were in your grandmother’s living room; spacious yet comfy with all of her quirkiness and splendor included. It was odd since you haven’t been in her house since your parents sold after her death seven years ago. You tearfully smiled remembering all the good times you had with her, the only member of your family you gave you any true warmth or love.

Her piano was in the corner, barely aged a day with all the music sheets, pens, a light scratches you came to know and love. You took your seat and started to play the piano version of one of your favorite movie themes.

You were so engrossed in playing, you failed to notice someone materializing into your dreamscape.

“What a lovely tune! What is it called?” A smooth, honey-tinged voice broke your concentration.

You turned your head and saw what had to be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He was tall (6’ 10” / 2.08m) easily towering over any man you’ve ever met. He had smooth alabaster skin, light rose undertones with a little blue-red just under his eyes. His cheekbones were immaculate, somehow looked sharp and soft at the same time. He had thin lips with a fair plumpness to the bottom one. His slicked-back, shoulder-length Ponzu/Shadow Purple hair kissed his lean, battle-hardened physique (if the way he’s filling out his outfit was anyway to go by). All of this deliciousness was clothed in a casual Palm Green suit with a Glossy Black tie and shoes.

It took you a full minute to stop ogling him, “Wha-What did you say?”

“I apologize for disturbing you, my lady. I asked what you were playing.” His voice had hints of mirth which was odd considering his appearance. Most people in his league would give you a thinly veiled sneer of disgust, but he seemed genuinely interested.

“Um, well, it’s called Merry-Go-Round of Life from the movie Howl’s Moving Castle. It’s a favorite of mine. I used to play it all the time until…” You trailed off, not wanting to revisit how your grandmother died.

“You do not have to tell me if it brings you such displeasure.”

“Thank you, um…”

“Loki. Please, call me Loki.”

“Loki,” he inwardly moaned at the way you said his name, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Please, continue playing.”

And you did for what felt like hours, all while your sexy dream companion asked about your hopes, dreams, anything he could think of really. You in turn asked him about his life and interests; you even laughed at a story of his brother having to dress like a bride to get his hammer back.

You soon became enamored with Loki. It was refreshing to be noticed with actual interest, not ridicule or pity. He seemed to taken with you as well, if his gentle caresses and not-so-subtle lustful glances he gave you were any indication.

You were glad this was just a dream. You didn’t want your heart to break like last time.

Loki was about to lean in for a kiss when everything faded to black.

–––––

You jolted up from the mattress and screamed once you realized you weren’t in your room.

No, this room was…spectacular for lack of better word. It had high ceilings, large windows, ornate chandeliers, and magnificent balcony. Luxurious dark greens, gold, and black covered the room in splendor. Extravagant pieces of furniture dripped with precious stones metal worthy of queens or royal mistresses of old.

“What is this place?”

You tried to leave but was forced back onto the bed by a force field. You tried to take calm breaths just like your therapist taught you in order to make an escape plan.

No sooner did you calm down than the door open to reveal-

“Loki!”

Only Loki was wearing radically different clothing; looked like he walked right out of a fantasy epic. And yet, his smile was enchanting.

“What am I doing here? I need to go back home.”

He tutted in response, “That would not be wise, Elskan Mín. This world is mine now and this is safest place to be.” He was right. His brother’s team of desperate souls were no match for his cunning and Chitauri Forces. Midgard’s pathetic leaders gave up in less than an hour once their beloved ‘heroes’ were defeated, broken, and laid bare before them.

“You can’t be serious, Loki. I need to leave.”

“And go where? Like I said, this realm is mine now. That rat poison of a dwelling is no more and I have dealt with your ‘family’ as needed.” Loki smirked at the memories. It gave him extreme joy squeezing the life out of that worthless pig of mother, breaking every bone in your father’s body one by one, and leaving your ‘perfect’ sister alive with partially rotten skin. Not even the scavengers or maggots would find or want the remains of the scurvy insect of an ex-boyfriend, though he was still alive..just barely.

Well, at least until he decided on how to destroy the blight of creature.

Though he did make sure to leave two of your real friend were treated well. You needed to have someone to talk to while he was away.

You gazed into his Spearmint colored eyes in one last attempt, “Please Loki! If you love me, you’ll let me go!”

For a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw hurt in his eyes and he glided across the room. You back hit the headboard in you sad efforts to get away from him.

“Elskan Mín, I promise to always love, cherish, and worship every part of your glorious body. You will become Midgard’s queen and my goddess. No. One. Will. Ever. Demean. Or. Slight. You. Again.” he punctuated each word of the last sentence with soft, open-mouthed kisses to your face, neck, shoulders, and collarbone.

You tried to fight him, but it felt so good. His touches sent shots of lightning to your core; plus his lips and fingers were cook to the touch provided excellent contrast to the spike in heat.

You started crying realizing how pathetic this was, to have the first person to profess such feelings be a kidnapper. You were actually contemplating whether or not he was telling the truth.

Loki sensed your sorrow and kissed your tears away. “I know this might be ‘difficult’ at first, but you will love me in time.” He hoped he did not have to use the scepter.

You thought about your dream and all of the effort he was putting into this. It was frightening, but it came from a place of love.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay.

–––––––

@lookiamtrying @jtargaryen18 @sapphirescrolls @jobean12-blog @sweeterthanthis @gotnofucks @mcudarklibrary@saiyanprincessswanie @golden-ariess @navegandoaciegas @stargazingfangirl18 @opheliadawnwalker3 @tilltheendwilliwritee  @imanuglywombat @bucky-the-thigh-slayer @navybrat817 @anyatheladyclown @buckysbunny @nacho-bucky @donutloverxo @stephanieromanoff @threeminutesoflife @angrybirdcr​ @angrythingstarlight @chixkencxrry @hurricanerin @marvelfansworld @the-soulofdevil @captain–barnes @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thebanprincess @winteralpine @leslie2898 @buttercandy16 @propertyofpoeandbucky @hevans-angel @thorfanficwriter @afriendlyblackhottie @avintagekiss24 @syntheticavenger @phant0m-queen @tuiccim​ @blueberrythor​ @river-soul @justthehiddleswrites @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

#loki (marvel) #loki x reader #marvel loki x reader #dark loki #loki x female reader #loki x plus-sized reader #mcu imagine #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu au #loki imagines #loki imagines angst #mcu fanfiction #his match #oge answers #tom hiddleston

[dragon-kazansky]

Yes, sir! | Niki Lauda

Professor Lauda AU! 👨‍🏫

Gender neutral reader

Dedicated to @lieutenantn and @scuttle-buttle

I'm using the first names of people I know in real life for the friends, so I apologise if you share the same name 😅

And thank you @scuttle-buttle for letting me make references to your fic 'The interpretation of dreams'

Some of my German translations may be wrong, I'm still learning 🥺

[Next chapter]

Part 1

You sat outside on campus. Your classes didn't start until tomorrow, but your friends started today. You agreed to meet them for lunch. You hadn't been sat outside for too long when they came out. Upon seeing you, they rush over, smiling.

"Lucky you with your extra day off," Katie says, grinning. She was studying music. This girl and her guitar were a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure.

"It's only one day," you laugh.

"One day more than we got," Michael added. When it came to computers, you knew no one better.

"Still, must be exciting not that you've started your classes. I'm not scheduled until tomorrow."

"Speaking of, what did you even pick? You never actually told us," Michael asks, sitting down next to you.

"Literature and languages."

"Ooo, look at you with your 2 subjects," Katie laughs.

"Just wait until I can tell you fuck off in other languages, then we'll see who's laughing," you grin.

"Funny. Can we go eat now?"

You nod and the lot of you go to the nearest cafe for lunch. The Red Wing is a nice little place to meet with friends and catch up, and it was really close to the university.

You grab a table near the window while Michael goes to order for everyone.

"Do you want to know who your Professors are going to be?" Katie asks, pulling out her phone.

"You know?"

"You can see the teachers on the website, I can check for you," she says, already signing into the website.

You say nothing and try to peek at the screen as she searches for the right page.

Michael returns and takes a seat.

"Uh oh," Katie says, looking at her phone strangely.

"Uh oh? Why uh oh?"

She looks at you with a bitter expression.

"Your language professor... you have Professor Lauda," she tells you.

"Professor Lauda? Why is that uh oh?"

Michael and Katie share a look.

"He's, uh... he's a bit of a perfectionist. Kind of strict. He has thrown students out of his class if they haven't kept up with assignments or he thinks they're just wasting time," Michael tells you.

"Oh, I see. I'm sure it will be fine. I'm taking languages because I want to."

Katie shrugs, "well, your funeral."

You narrow your eyes at her. They were making it out as if he was some demon teacher who worked here. You were sure it would be fine.

"What about my other professor?"

"Professor Barnes? He's alright. Cute. People like him," Katie sighs.

"There we go then. I'll be fine!"

Michael and Katie share a look again. You roll your eyes and ignore them as your food arrives.

You're back at your apartment early, in time for an early night so you can be refreshed for your classes tomorrow.

You weren't worried about what your friends had said. You were sure you could handle what ever this Professor Lauda would throw at you.

You arrive to your literature class early. Professor Barnes is friendly and welcomes you into his class. You take a seat near the front and wait for the other students to arrive.

When everyone has settled, the class starts.

Barnes introduces himself, introduces you the schedule for the term, and spends a bit of time getting to know his class. He makes a joke here and there. He's definitely going to be a favourite yours, you just knew you would enjoy his classes.

He dismisses you all with a gentle smile.

You have some time before your languages class. For some reason a lite bit of dread settles in. You really wanted to do well here, but what if you didn't? Would he actually kick you off the course?

Michael was able to meet up with you as you made your way to your next class. He had just left his class cor the day when he saw you on the way to yours.

"Hey!"

You stop and let him catch up with you.

"On your way to Lauda's class?"

"Yes."

"I think it's very brave of you to take this risk," he says, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You roll your eyes.

"You're over exaggerating! He's just a Professor!"

"Y/N, there are only two professors in this university that scare me, and Lauda is one of them."

"Who's the other?"

"Professor Kreizler, but you're not taking his class, so you don't have to worry about him."

You chuckle softly.

"I'll be fine. I have to go! See you later."

Michael watches you go.

You arrive to the class just in time. The class isn't as full as the other class. Just a few students scattered about. Absolutely no one was sitting on the front row. The professor has his back to the class as he organised papers on his desk.

You headed to the front and sat down, taking out the things you would need.

The professor turned around.

Never has anyone made such an impact on you before just from their presence. Your mind ceases functioning as you get a good look at your Professor.

Soft brown curly hair, dark brown eyes, not too tall, not too short, toned, but not buff. Gosh, did he look good in that turtleneck sweater.

His eyes scan the students. The room was only about half full, not that he cared much. He knew he had a reputation in the university. People couldn't deal with him, but it didn't matter because he wouldn't be able to deal with them either.

His eyes land on the only student brave enough to sit up front. He would be able to see you working from there, but that wasn't what made him stop to look at you. No, it was the fact you were probably the best looking person to ever walk into his classroom.

He flickered his gaze away before it could be read into too much by anyone.

You hadn't seemed to notice he was staring.

Still, he was a professional and he would remain so. Nothing wrong with having good looking students in a class.

"Hallo, willkommen. I am Professor Lauda, your languages teacher. This class is for German. Please, if you had no intention of being here, leave now."

No one shifts.

"Very well then. I have written the schedule for the term on the board, copy it down if you must, I will not be repeating it after today."

You note it down, using all your will power not to just look at your Professor.

"I must ask, does anyone here have any basic knowledge of German?" He asks, eyes scanning the class.

A few hands go up. Better than his last class where barely anyone had any former knowledge. Your hand is up too.

"Gut. You," he nods at you, "introduce yourself auf Deutsch."

You hesitate for a second, not expecting he would pick you. Though, you are sat up front. You're an easy target.

"Hallo, ich bin Y/N."

Y/N. Wunderbar. He had your name. He moves onto the next student who put their hand up, and then the next. You were none the wiser to his little trick of just wanting to know who you were.

"Now, listen here," he says, gaining everyone's attention after introductions, "if you so as waste my time, you are off this course. I only want students who mean to learn. If you fail my tests, you can walk tight out. If you fail to hand in an essay, you can leave."

He scans the faces of his students.

"Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir!" The class all spoke together.

"Gut. Now, pay attention."

He begins the introduction for the course. Though you are paying attention, you're slightly distracted by his voice. English or German, you could listen to him talk all day.

You write down notes as he speaks, not wanting to miss anything. You almost miss some details because you just wanted to sit and listen to him talk.

Class is over before you know it. Time had passed far too quickly for your liking.

"Dismissed. Don't be late."

Everyone gathers their things before they go. You close your notebook and glances up at your professor. He once again has his back to the class.

"Danke, herr Lauda."

Lauda glances over his shoulder to see you standing there. He looks you up and down quickly with his dark eyes. He turns back around without saying anything.

You leave, feeling a little awkward.

Michael is waiting outside for you.

"How was class?" He asks, falling into step with you.

"Not that bad. Professor Lauda isn't that bad!"

"You're lying! He's so intimidating!" Michael exclaims.

"He's fine. Maybe I should I meet this Professor Kreizler for reference."

"He's intimidating too."

"Do you actually like any Professors here?" You ask.

"....not really!"

You chuckle softly and keep on walking. Michael has to jog a little as you pick up the pace.

"I dare you! Though he might be OK if his assistant is there."

"His assistant?" You look at him curiously.

"Yeah, pretty sure they're together."

"Hmm. Cute."

"If you say so, Y/N. Right, I have to leave, there's a computer with my name on it," he grins.

"Yeah, whatever. See you!" You laugh as he walks away.

You head back to your apartment, done for the day. You would go over your notes and have some dinner before turning in for the night.

Tomorrow was another day, and you were eager to return to your languages class.

@lieutenantn @scuttle-buttle @rumblelibrary @zemosimp05 @hb8301 @celtic-witch-bitch @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lorna-d-m @anteroom-of-death @belle82devart @vverliebt @alltimebandsexual666 @charistory @mischief-siriusly-managed @thatoneartgalsstuff @mssennimatilda

#niki lauda au #niki lauda x reader #au #daniel brühl x reader #Daniel Brühl au

[jaeminscoffee]

Cordolium

Cordolium- Heartfelt sorrow, heartache (n.)

Pairing- Lee Jeno x reader

Genre- Fluff for starters, angst for main course.

Word count- 1.78k

Warnings- Y/n’s led on by Jeno. Or she just misinterpreted his actions, also horribly written ✌

Summary- Who’d known one picture was all it would take to break your heart.

Having gotten into your dream university called for leaving your comfort house and moving into a completely foreign environment, where everyone would be strangers unlike your town where everyone knew each other. 

You were already cranky about the fact that you had to shift, added to that came the news that you’d have a roommate since the last room available was allotted to the student who enrolled in just minutes before you. 

It was a bittersweet feeling. Bitter because you have to live with a total stranger having to share common spaces, personality could be who knows how. Sweet because you’d have a familiar face to look around in the University for. 

“Y/n did you see my blue hoodie?” your roommate screamed from his room, to you who was seated on the couch by the living room. “Hmm?” you hum back, knowing full well the hoodie he’s implying to is the one you’d adorned right now. 

“Come on doll, is there any hoodie of mine that you haven’t worn yet?”

Jeno is the perfect roommate. You’d been shocked the first day you punched in the password to your apartment, opening the door only to be greeted with a guy who had nothing but a towel around his torso. Half shocked at the fact that your roommate for the rest of your semester would be a guy. Half shocked that an extremely good looking guy was your roommate. 

Jeno made the unknown neighborhood seem as though you’d been there all your life. He shooed away all your homesickness, never giving you time to even miss your street by bringing up new things to keep the pair of you occupied. 

“Uh? The one that you bought yesterday? I haven’t worn that yet.” you flash him a smile as Jeno passed you a look of boredom. “It was a rhetorical question, Y/n” he shook his head, making his way towards you with nothing but his sweats on. 

Not the first time you’ve seen him half naked, you’d seen him like that almost every other day, Jeno had clearly grown ridiculously close to you. But the sight of his toned abs and chiseled chest never fails to fluster you. “look at the picture you have of me half naked, you’re basically burning holes into my abs, babe” he retorted after plopping down on the seat beside yours and you immediately shift position to lay down on the couch with your head on his lap. 

“Bold of you to assume i still have that image, Jen” you say, handing him the remote to select what you two would be watching that evening as you tug on his free hand, bringing it up to your hair and placing it there, shaking your head slightly as a signal for him to run his fingers through your hair. 

This is how it’d been since you two grew close. You had a very, very touchy friendship. You had no objections to that, absolutely loving the cuddles and names he’d given you.

All fears of being alone had gone with the wind after the news of you being THE Lee Jeno’s roommate spread throughout the campus. The undivided attention you’d receive didn’t faze you though, knowing full well it was all just a way to somehow get Jeno to pay attention to them. 

That didn’t matter though since you’d found a perfect friend circle for yourself. That friend circle being Jeno’s friend circle. They were all extremely bubbly and accepting of your joining in the group. One particularly was extremely close to you. Jaemin. Having shared the same energy level and brain cells, you got close to each other really quick. 

Jeno chuckles at your antics before complying to your silent request, “Whatever. Though, I’d actually say nothing if you do end up being the first one to wear my new hoodie” you look up at him, confused. “you look cute in my clothes” he sends a wink in your way, leaning down to press a small peck on your forehead before diverting his attention to the shows he constantly switched back and forth to. 

“Oh? Then maybe i should change into that right now-” you attempt to get up fast to hide your blushing self, only to be pulled back with a strong grip on the material of your (his) hoodie which resulted in you falling right back onto Jeno’s lap. “Maybe you shouldn’t” he gave you a playful warning look, breaking out into a smile seeing you huff out giggles. 

“But you just said you don’t mind!” you try standing up again, “doesn’t matter” he pulls you back with more force, now locking you in a tight embrace as your head gets flushed into the nape of his neck, arms holding his bare shoulder for support.

Married couple. A title your friends had given you due to the pair of yours dynamic. It’s kind of like an inside joke at this point. Each time they’d point out you having something more than a platonic friendship, Jeno would always be the first one to dismiss it, clearing all misunderstandings whereas you’d make little to no effort to do so. Your love for the lad basically oozed out of you. 

It’s a little hard to not have feelings for a guy with the personality of an angel, behavior intact and looks as a plus one. You are sure he had at least a little something for you seeing his actions, lingering kisses, touches. You are so sure he’s got at least something for you.

Pressing one last kiss to the side of your head, he moves you gently off of him and onto the fluffy couch as you stare at him in confusion, clearly not liking the warmth being taken away from you. “what happened?” you ask him, about to pull him back down, “I promised a friend I’d go over, we’ll cuddle once i return home, is that alright with you doll?” he inquires, leaning down to smoothen down the hair that was sticking out here and there from his previous actions. 

“Why wouldn’t i be alright with that? As long as you give me all the cuddles we’re missing out on right now” you feign anger to which he gave you his signature eye smile. “Of course.” With that he left the room, probably to change into something else. 

You really wanted to spill out your feelings for the lad to him, you weren’t scared of being rejected. Jaemin, Jeno’s known better half, had assured you multiple times of how you’d definitely be the only one to catch Jeno’s attention. 

What you were really scared of was if you’d lose what you had right now. Feelings are stuff that comes and goes in a rapid and you can lose everything you have if your feelings for the other deteriorates somehow. But your friendship was way more important to you than your feelings and you wouldn’t, in a million years, want to lose what you’ve established with Jeno. 

You spend the rest of your evening watching shows, painting your nails, and even reminding yourself to make one of Jeno’s favourite dishes for dinner once he gets home, mentally thanking Jaemin for reminding you to not forget that little confession plan you had plotted. 

You’d make it subtle that you’re in love with your roommate through your actions rather than words, though, he’d be an idiot if he hadn’t already noticed at least a bit of affection for him through your clinginess. 

You make your way to your room after turning the flame down to low upon hearing your phone ring. You wipe your hands on your hoodie before pressing the red button and picking it up, Jaemin’s contact taking up its place on your screen.

“Jaem?” you inquire stupidly as though his caller ID didn’t make it obvious enough that it was, in fact your best friend calling you.

“I would have barged into your house if you’d taken any longer to pick up the call but congratulations for finally gathering some balls to do it Y/n!!” Jaemin screams into the speaker, obvious that he’s excited. “Congrats?” you ask back.

“Yes! Finally! You guys look so cute in that image, I almost threw it at Haechan!” he replied with the same energy. Confusion clouds your mind as you try making sense of his words. 

“Picture? Congratulations? Jaem, what are you talking about?" 

"You know! The picture he just posted of the two of you being all lovey-dovey! I never took Jeno to be a romanticist! Like, the caption??-” you immediately open your laptop to log into your social to see what imagine Jaemin was talking about, “I have a slight doubt that you’re the one who posted it from his-” finally in on instagram, you scroll down to see any new posts of your roommate,

“-phone, but like. I’m so glad that you asked him out, knowing Jeno, he’d never do it unless you double dog dare him-” running impatient hearing Jaemin ramble on about the said image, you finally search up Jeno’s name, feeling your stomach churn with an unknown feeling. 

“Also, did you dye your hair? You look really cute in that image though it isn’t all that clear! I told you from day one you’re a match made in heaven-”

You click on the recent post, the image of Jeno, leaning in, pressing a kiss on the lip of a girl unknown to you fills up your screen, ‘my one and only for eternity’ as the caption. “How was the kiss?-” you pause for a second, refreshing the page to see if it’s really an image of Jeno, kissing a girl, “Jaem.." 

"I mean, if you’re gonna act all shy with me now then don’t tell me, but tell me how did you confess to him?” you can physically feel your heart drop down to your stomach

“Jaemin..” “you finally get to call him your boyfriend, Y/n! No space between the two words! I can’t believe he decided to make your relationship public the day of confession! But seriously-”

“Jaemin listen-" 

"I’m still not over the caption, where did the confession take place?? You should’ve called me man! I would’ve recorded it-”

“Jaemin!” you finally scream, losing it at all the words coming out of his mouth, feeling enraged at yourself for ever thinking you stood a chance. Hearing the line go silent, you feel something wet travel down your cheeks the more you stare at your crush kissing a girl that’s not you. You choke out a silent sob. How are you supposed to face him after today, knowing everything you felt for him was unrequited?

“That girl in the image is not me.”

#kpopscape #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream scenarios #jeno ff #jeno smut #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #jeno soft hours #nct ff #nct au #nct smut #wayv #nct jaemin #nct doyoung #nct jaehyun #nct jeno #nct chenle #jeno lee ff #lee jeno ff #lee jeno smut #nct jeno ff #nct dream soft hours #nct fanfictions

[monst]

I have this cute idea on my mind and i Have to share it with someone, do whatever u want with it I just wanna write it down ajdjskkw. So!! Shigaraki with a s/o who likes wearing lipstick,, okay hear me out,,, who also Really likes giving Shigaraki lots of kisses,,, all over his pretty face,,, now,,,,, get ready,,, Shigaraki,,,, with tiny kiss shaped lipstick stains on his cheeks,,,, and nose,,,,, and forehead,,,,, oN hIs FiNgErTiPs (individually cause yeah) ,,h,,hnng soft shiggy baby 💋

Selfless💋

Pro hero! Shigaraki Tomura (Shimura Tenko) x Reader

Warnings: None…? I’ve been dying to do a pro hero Shiggy Au thing? Not as many kisses as I’d hoped to inlude tho

           “Ugliest pro hero huh…” Try as he might his fingers continued to scroll, vermillion eyes absorbing the various comments of agreement. There were a couple comments defending his appearance but the number of likes on the thread… just kept rising. He had refreshed the page a couple of times and with every load his lips drooped.

           He knew he had a plethora of fans. People who adored him and left loving and supporting comments on his social platforms. However, the negative ones stuck the most. They pierced his eyes and nested in his brain where they hatched and expanded. It spread in a slow black ooze until it consumed his confidence. His teeth sunk into his chapped bottom lip as he sunk his phone into his pocket and made his way to the nearest looking glass.

           He shouldn’t have entertained his insecurities, but it was hard not to, especially since they laid right there before him. Sickly pale skin frayed like the edges of a palmier, the skin surrounding his deep pools of unsettling blood looked as though a farmer had plowed his skin in rows in preparation for sowing. The tips of his fingers brushed over his lips…. Rough and chapped. The dry skin there flaked off and fluttered to the ground.

           Decay. A heavy sigh deflated his body as he took in the effects of his quirk. And like poison his mind whispered the ills of his quirk. ‘Dangerous’  ‘A destructive quirk’  ‘…Evil’ He shook his head clear of those thoughts, ignoring the pang of guilt that racked his body as he remembered the horror of when his quirk first manifested. The loss of his late puppy still loomed over him, it had burrowed deep within his soul. Its roots had sunk in deep and it was without a doubt one of his biggest insecurities.

‘What if I hurt someone…’  The thought never left him even as he aged. It was that thought that had thrust him into his current reality. As his fingers pressed into the dips underneath his eyes, he remembered how he ran away from his home. He snorted sarcastically as he recalled running into the nearest police station to turn himself in for murder.  He continued to prod at his face, his mind traversing memory lane when you walked in.

“Sorry but he’ll be busy that day, can we reschedule?” His gaze turned to you as you shut the door. When his eyes met what hung around your wrists, he took off towards you tugging the smiling plastic bags off your arms. A grin crawled onto your face at the action and you continued to try to end your current conversation. You furrowed your brows when you caught Shimura staring at the open box of fried rice, his chopsticks hung in mid-air as he looked to the food then to his lean frame.

“You okay?” You asked. “No not you. Listen I’ll get back to you later.” You hung up and sat down across from Tenko. He avoided your probing gaze and as to avoid conversation he begun to eat. He was unusually unenthusiastic about it and your lips curved into a frown. You knew the hero in front of you like you knew where your secret stash of candy was, something had obviously upset him. He hadn’t answered your previous question, so you didn’t pry knowing he’d spill eventually.

And spill he did. As soon as you broke apart your chopsticks his lips parted, his words barely above a whisper.

“(Name)…. Am I ugly….” Your eyes shot up to his face immediately! Your eyes were wide, your jaw slack as the words settled into your ears.

“W-Wha- Who? Who the fuck called you that?” You seethed. He showed you the thread and you exhaled in annoyance. His eyes were downcast his teeth chewing on his lower lip. You sighed, being angry wasn’t going to help anyone you noted. “No babe you’re not ugly.” You smiled.

“Don’t lie (Name)…. I look in the mirror everyday too.” He muttered bitterly.

“Well then you’re clearly looking into the mirror all wrong.” You shrugged.

His face scrunched up in confusion. “…How do you look into a mirror wrong?” He questioned. A slick smile slithered onto your lips as you stood and motioned him to follow. The both of you stood in front of the mirror.

“Okay, tell me what you see.” You ushered.

“A crusty mummy.” He shot back without hesitation. You frowned at that.

“Touya needs to shut the fuck up.” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

“He’s not wrong.” He shrugged. “Look babe I’m fine with looking like this…”

“Love.” You began “When has Touya ever been right?”

Tenko drew a blank, his friend had a knack for being wrong… most of the time… The scarred man sighed and side-eyed you. “Well then what exactly do you see.” He sassed. “Even if Touya’s wrong my eyes work fine.”

“Well then” You clapped turning his face towards the mirror. “When I look at this,” You thumbed underneath his eyes. “I see pain and hardship.”

“How is tha-“

“Shhh let me finish.” You shushed softly pressing your finger against his lips. “I see pain and hardship which leads to growth. They show resilience and strength. To me they tell a story about a boy who turned his trauma into a way to help others. And this.” The tip of your finger traced the scar running down his eye. “This shows how selfless you are.” You mumbled, “So do these.” You hummed caressing all of his wounds and scars.

“Every time your skin cracks and withers there’s always a reason behind it.” You chirped looking into his puzzled eyes, a smile lit your eyes at his confusion. Your fingers hooked underneath the arm of his sweater and you rolled up the sleeve. “Do you remember Kamino? When that one villain practically flattened everything?” He nodded. “There were so many people trapped under the crumbling rubbish, and you got there in time to dust the structures before they could crush thousands of people. This.” You raised his arm “Is a testament to that.”

“You save people at the cost of your own body Tenko.” You whispered brining his arm to your chest. “Your absolutely selfless and brave and that’s incredibly beautiful.” You confessed and lifted his fingers to your lips to press feathery kisses at their tips.

Tenko gazed at you in stunned silence. And you took advantage of it and swirled a finger around a lock of cotton-candy blue. “Your beautiful in your own way.” You added, kissing the skin underneath his scar, staining it with the pigment of your lipstick. You continued to lavish his marred skin with your lips leaving prints of your love with every smooch. A breathless chuckle escaped you when you looked at your handywork. The last lingering kiss was placed on his parted lips and as you pulled back you whispered against them “And downright sexy too. Have you seen the fics people write about you?”

A scoff left his lips at that. His eyes bore into his reflection, he knew that he would rather have scars than not be able to save others however, he sometimes wished he were a bit less… flaky. He voiced out his concern watching as you pursed your lips.

“Well it wouldn’t hurt you to have a skin care routine.” You smiled. “Your fans send you so many products so that you can take better care of your skin. Hell, Thirteen even goes out of her way to send you the high end stuff.”

“Is that what that is?” He frowned. You pinched his cheek in annoyance.

“Yes, of course you never touch it ‘cause you always go for the games they get you.” You nagged. His eyes lit up a reddish fire and he sprinted to where he kept his fanmail eager to get started.

.

.

.

“Tenko you can’t just lather it all on…”

Needless to say, the hero quickly fell in love with his new routine. He felt confident and even though he knew some effects were irreversible he reminded himself of the stories behind them and when he looked into the mirror. He was okay.

#shigaraki x reader #shimura tenko #Shigaraki Tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #bnha hero au #hero au #tenko x reader #hero shigaraki #shigaraki fluff #bnha shigaraki #Pro hero Shigaraki

[bryan360]

Secret Art Trade of May 2021: The Astroblast crew giving away their spare clothes to P-Pal’s OCs

Hey, everyone and friends! I’m coming back to my latest tumblr post for another secret art trade showing for my P-Pal @murumokirby360 today, but first thing I would like to apologize that I’ve been taking absent after days of hard work. It was actually last week where I worked on these pics about having the Astroblast crew giving away their each spare clothings to my P-Pal’s OCs; which I’ll give the details a sec. I did on coloring for my P-Pal’s characters and Astroblast characters just right though; especially on their clothing and accessories being added with some color shadings. It took me longer days to get these drawings to finished, but hoping it’ll be worth it once my P-Pal sees this. Anyways onto this latest art trade post that I already said before: The Astroblast crew giving away their spare clothings to my P-Pal’s OCs. However, make that three each for his OCs while wearing one of their own spare clothing while holding two in hangers. That’s not all as they’ll be getting their own spare shoes and socks in boxes inside; plus some accessories of 🐰Halley’s Goggles and 🐷Sputnik’s 🌟Star Piece as well. Talk about making this a huge makeover of sorts about what I did this during last week of May 2021. Here’s my main OCs reaction for their P-Friends owing their Astroblast crew’s spare clothing, footwear, socks, and other accessories.

🐰🖌Maxwell: It was unexpected to see our friends getting their own spare clothings and stuff from the Astroblast crew, but sure it does fits them very well; same goes to us after we’ve giving away our spare clothing to them from long time ago. ^^* Anyways, it’s good to know about Spot Speedster getting three of his own spare clothings and other stuff from Comet and Sputnik, but while wearing his own spare Halley’s clothes and showing to Halley had a nice touch of kindness or something. 👍

🐰👊💥May: I do have a same feeling for Riya as well after she’s wears Sputnik’s clothes; while trying to hold her spare clothings and other stuff from Halley and Comet. Looks cute for her while wearing her star accessory on her head. ^^

🦊⚽️Sam: Don’t forget my friend Cude as he’s now the captain of the Frosty Star; after he’s now in Comet’s clothes while holding his spare Sputnik and Halley’s clothing and other stuff. Looks good on him in spare Comet’s clothes, though. 😉

Glad to know you guys after checking your friends are now owning three each clothings, footwear, socks, and other accessories from Comet, Halley, and Sputnik. I too give this a thumbs up as well for how nice fitting they'll be using if someday they can work for the cafe with the rest of Astroblast crew or taking charge while somebody will be out for their water slide trip. Despite this, I'm still missing out on things to do my DeviantArt page and my P-Pal's posts to reblog after long last week. At least I can take a break for now, but hoping I'll be refreshing my things to do for my next topic part for my YCCTEAM Controller to continue afterwards soon. For now, hope you guys like my latest secret art trade of what I bring. 😉👍🏼

No Hurtful or Rude Comments, Please

Spot Speedster, Riya, and Cude created by me; BryanVelasquez87 (Bryan360)

Comet, Halley, and Sputnik - Astroblast! (2014-2015) created by Bob Kolar and co-produced by Scholastic Media, Soup2Nuts, The Teammate Funnymoon Entertainment Company, and Sprout Enterprise and first debuted on Sprout; later broadcast on NBC Kids. Also based on books

#secret art trade #art trade #for my p-pal #may 2021 #murumokirby360 #spot speedster #riya speedster #cude #chowder ocs #happy tree friends oc #clothes #clothing #other stuff #astroblast #comet #halley #sputnik #nbc #nbcuniversal #may 17th 2021

[sarahlevys]

One Person's Guide to Coping with AD(H)D in the Workplace

Howdy! This is a non-exhaustive overview of a few things that I have learned to put into practice to cope with my ADD in the workplace.

For some background context, I have ADD but do not currently manage the condition via medications due to some side effects that negatively affect my quality of life. Currently, I hold an executive leadership position at the company I work for, and manage individuals with ADHD. I use ADD to describe myself because that is the name that was given to me when I was diagnosed.

I don't intend to speak as a sole authority on this subject; I've just been asked to provide ideas and thoughts on this by friends. The coping mechanisms in this post are by no means not intended to be the only coping mechanisms that exist.

Your Mind is Different

I've learned to accept the fact that I will easily get side-tracked, distracted, and have days in which I simply cannot focus on things during the time in which I either want to focus, or have been told (by supervisors, bosses, my own internal guilt mechanism, etc.) that I should be focusing on.

All of this is okay! My mind rarely, if ever, works on command when it's time to do something that I'm not intrinsically motivated to do, like work. And sometimes, even when I *want* to do the thing – like a hobby or something I genuinely enjoy – I can't focus. All of that is still okay.

Be gentle to yourself. A coping mechanism that works one day may not work another day – or even later, that same day. It's okay to multi-task, to lose focus, or to get hyper-focused on something you should or shouldn't.

Allow yourself the grace to not always use a planner, a habit tracker, or similar.

Some Things to Try

You'll note a common theme in all of these: these don't always work for me all the time. Trial and error is totally okay!

Focus:

If you find yourself itching to do something else at the same time as something you're working on – e.g., check your text messages – go ahead and do it. Sometimes, if I don't let myself give in to those impulses, they build up in my mind until my focus on what I'm 'supposed' to be focusing on gets shot to all hell.

That said, on those moments where I settle into 'the zone' or 'flow,' I am sometimes I'm able to go ahead and shut off whatever might pull my focus. Roll with it and do whatever's right for you in the moment!

In meetings, depending on the stakes of it, I might play a bit of sudoku or doodle; doing something that's low pressure, even for a few seconds, can often help me feel like I've 'multi-tasked' or 'slipped into something else' long enough to refocus on the meeting at hand.

Taking notes during a meeting, especially by hand, also can feel like multi-tasking, even if I'm not.

Standing up during a task or call often helps me focus. (Sometimes it doesn't!) Either way, even if it's just for a little bit, I still am usually happier for being able to physically fidget or stretch more than I would in a seated position.

Listening to music while I work helps me feel like I'm multi-tasking, even if I'm not – but I know this doesn't work for everyone! And like everything else, some days it works for me, some days it doesn't. I personally prefer music with lyrics, but I know others who don't.

Give Yourself Breaks:

Sometimes, when I'm moving really quickly – e.g., if I'm going through a lot of tasks, going from meeting to meeting, or trying to think and do a lot – I feel myself getting short of breath/tense. Breaks are really helpful to me!

Focusing is hard work! Try to give yourself at least one 10-15 minute break in both halves of your work shift.

Allow yourself the space to also zone out for a few minutes here and there, too.

Sometimes, even just walking around my home is enough to refresh my brain.

You might have success with the Pomodoro Technique: https://pomofocus.io/ This involves trying to work for 25 minutes, then taking a 5 minute break regardless. Repeat this for as long as desired – typically it'll be done 4 times (for 2 hours), followed by a 15 minute break.

Thinking Through Things Before Sending Them Loose:

My biggest struggle! I'm a big blurter, both out loud and via text/typing.

My first plan of attack is to, once I've typed through something, to pause before hitting send. I'm a fast typist with +100WPM, and I have to literally (sometimes out loud!) tell myself to not hit send right away so I can slow down and read through what I'm saying before I do hit that send button.

When communication is handled verbally, I physically try to weigh each word as I speak it, and focus on hearing each word before going onto the next.

I have learned to accept the fact that I will often trail off and lose my train of thought, and I will admit that out loud to whoever I'm speaking to – even if they're a client or someone important – so I can buy myself a little more time to sort things out. Being open about this takes pressure off of me.

Resist the Urge to Speed Through Work:

My other big struggle!

If you feel comfortable, speak to your manager about fail-safes and review processes that currently exist in your work environment. At my job, we've created internal processes that always involve someone else reviewing your work (no matter who is executing the task) so we have built-in failsafes.

If you do take a task quickly, for whatever reason – e.g., if it's something comfortable to you, or you're running out of time – speak to whoever you're doing the work for in order to make sure your work is reviewed, or to buy yourself more time to review your work before you hand it in.

Talk to Your Supervisor:

Ideally, you have the kind of relationship with your supervisor where you can explain that: 1) multi-tasking doesn't always mean that you aren't paying attention, whether you're actually multi-tasking or chasing something that'll give you the feeling of multi-tasking; 2) single-focus is hard. Even if they don't necessarily change anything about your operations processes, having that awareness goes a long way.

You may even consider talking to your other team members about this; I sometimes can come off as impatient or rushing when i don't need to be, and I've also talked about how I often go off-topic or off-track and people know that about me.

If you get a lot of same-day tasks that can pull focus from what you've planned to do today, you may want to talk to your supervisor about requesting a minimum of one day's notice for your work or to request communication when a same-day task is being sent your way.

Create Control For Yourself:

A big part of my instance of ADD is needing to control everything so that I know exactly what's happening at all times and nothing's going to distract me more than i already innately am. I've learned to (somewhat) let go of the control thing, but of course being able to do that means being aware of when it's popping up.

With this in mind, I try to be mindful of when I'm feeling tense or out of control – a bit trigger for me is when a bunch of unexpected meetings or communications crop up, for example – and to pay attention to how I'm feeling and what I can do to solve it, or to roll with the punches.

I've found that taking the time to think about the next day and set up my planner for the following day in the afternoon before signing off, or after work has closed, and then reviewing that again in the morning of, really helps. Of course, I don't always remember to do it. But when I do, it really help!

Organize Your Work & Find Low-Pressure Accountability:

The way that I organize my tasks for each day differs based off of the day or my mood. Sometimes I organize them by priority, sometimes by the amount of time that I think it'll take me to do something, sometimes by client, etc. Be flexible!

At my work, we do a daily check-in with the whole team where we say what we plan to do that day, and I've found that group accountability to be really helpful. That might be something your manager might be interested in providing to you (e.g., a quick message in the morning to let them know what you plan to do).

That said, accountability can sometimes feel like too much pressure if you don't always do everything on your list. Ideally, you can talk with your supervisor or even a trusted co-worker to set up an environment in which it's okay for things to roll over or for priorities to shift depending on how a day is going.

Find a Flexible Way to Organize Yourself:

Paper journals/planners and I don't mix; when I forget to use it, the empty pages give me guilt, and the permanence of pen also makes me anxious since things in my mind are so fluid.

With this in mind, I prefer digital means since I can rearrange and move things around. I personally use an iPad Pro and a Pencil to take notes in digital note-keeping software, but this can be cost-prohibitive. If you struggle with paper methods of organization, consider using note-taking software or even Google Docs to create a plain-text bullet journal so you can move things around.

That's all I've got! Please let me know if you found this guide helpful, and what other coping mechanism or ideas I should add to this (with credit to you!)

#ADD #ADHD #coping mechanisms #mental health #ADD coping mechanisms #ADHD coping mechanisms

[princessmadafu]

37 bleedin’ pages!

I have condensed them for you and left out most of the bits that the nasty evil British Press have already covered. Feel free to skip any boring bits.

Dax Shepard: Welcome, welcome, welcome to Armchair Expert's Experts on Expert. I'm Dan Shepard. I'm joined by Monica Mouse.

Monica Padman: Hi.

[...]

There follows some heavy marketing of towels and stuff...

DS: Now please enjoy Prince Harry. We are supported by Brookelinen. My favourite hotel quality sheets to get into and writhe around in the nude. [...] They're impeccable. They're decadent, they're soft, they're absorbent. Brookelinen was started to create beautiful high quality home essentials that don't cost an arm and a leg. They're so confident in their product, they come with a 365 day warranty. So give yourself that comfort refresh you deserve and get it for less. Go to Brookelinen.com and use promo code 'expert' to get $20 off with a minimum purchase of $100. That's Brookelinen.com and enter promo code 'expert' for $20 off with a minimum purchase of $100. That's Brookelinen.com, promo code 'expert'.

Pretty ironic really, as Harry wades into fake news and how advertising algorithms are ruining us...

DS:...It's like the algorithms on the internet. You can't compete with that, a human.

PH: You can't if you have the awareness of what it's doing to you. And the fact that it's learning, which is scary. And advertising has been going on for hundreds of years, but done really responsibly. The difference here is targeted ads. If ads have always worked for companies, you can put on the TV, you can walk away, you can come back, your involvement is switching on switching off or changing the channel. Whereas now with algorithms is there, it's just feeding your habits. And it's also reading through your emails and everything else. So it's getting to know you, like, it gets to know the decisions you're gonna make before you make them, then it creates this echo chamber of no pushback, of no context of nothing. It's just perpetuating and feeding the bias and the habits that you already have inside of you, which is terrible.[...]

Harry needs to learn about AdBlock and Ghostery and VPNs and Tor and DuckDuckGo and Smartpage and all the other clever little ways the computer-literate have of ridding their lives of unwanted advertising. I haven't seen an ad in years. The only person feeding my habits is me. It’s called personal responsibility. Maybe Harry still needs a Nanny but most grown-ups don’t. Oh wait, I forgot, the “Meghan&Harry Show” fans are all kids.

PH: [...] It's a computer. It's like, who wrote the algorithms? You guys did? Probably all male and all white.

Oooh, let's be sexist and racist, Harry! Did you ever hear of these women or are they too scary?

https://biztechmagazine.com/article/2012/05/mothers-technology-10-women-who-invented-and-innovated-tech

Then they discuss Naked Vegas (this guy Dax has a thing about nudity) and Harry in Afghanistan. And discuss a calendar of naked men that DS and MP put together - their favourite male bodies. What a good job it's only gloating over naked male bodies and not naked female bodies. It's apparently acceptable, for some reason. Harry doesn't know who the guys are.

DS: Monica makes this for me every year and it's a calendar of all my favourite bodies of friends.

MP: And they're all men.

DS: They're all men.

MP: And they're all gorgeous bodies.

[...]

And is Harry nervous talking about mental health? He shouldn't be, he's been banging on about it for years.

PH: Yeah. Was I nervous? No. Not so much nervous. But I guess on this particular subject around mental health. Yeah. For me, it's always a, unfortunately, today's world is quite a sensitive subject, not just for the people who are sharing. But ultimately, the subject matter itself has to be handled with care. [...] It ends up getting weaponized by certain people.

Weaponised by certain people? Like him and Markle, for instance. Neither of 'em has any talent so they weaponise their mental health. Big big mental health bombs loaded with word salad to lob at their own families and cause huge distress. Not nice, Harry.

PH: That's how I've always felt when it comes to projection. I mean, hatred is a form of projection, right? [...] We're not born to hate people. So it manifests itself over a period of time. And of course, it can come from unresolved pain, or being hurt continually, as a young kid or through adult life. But ultimately, there's a source to it. There's a reason why you want to hate somebody else.

Like his dad, his brother...

PH: And actually have some compassion for them. Which is really hard when you're on the receiving end of this, like, just vile, toxic abuse. But the reality is, is you say, flip it. [...] Every single one of us wherever we are, wherever we come from, there will always try and find some way to be able to mask the actual feeling and be able to try and make us feel different to how we are actually feeling, perhaps having a feeling. Right, because so many people are just numb to it. That was a huge part of the beginning of my life, which was like, I rejected. I said, there's nothing wrong with me. I'm fine.

And now he's moved on to promoting his new mental health stuff with Oprah, The Me You Can't See...

PH: So if you are making that conscious decision to say: You know what, it's not self serving, but I want to share my story. I'm being asked to share my story to hopefully help someone or loads of other people. I'm probably going to get trolled. I'm probably going to get attacked by the same people that were doing anyway. If I'm willing to make that decision, surely that comes from a place of courage rather than weakness?

Or possibly naivety. Harry is only wanted for his money-making title and royal status; he has no mental health qualifications, he's not a mental health professional, he's not an expert, all he brings to the table is the glamour of being a prince of the BRF. Which he quite clearly hates. Markle is lining her pockets from their self-indulgent mental health whinge fest and he's too dim to see it. There follows the bit about the spectrum of upbringing that the press is covering nicely so I can skip the next few pages - the bits where Harry says he doesn't see that talking about his own issues is complaining, and “it's the job, right”, how he never wanted the job of being royal, and his therapy and how “massively self-critical” he is (yet still can't see that he's not being honest with himself), ooh and sharing his hatred of the British press - that's a good bit, let's skip to page 18:

PH I think the biggest issue for me was that being born into it, you inherit the risk, you inherit the risk that comes with it, you inherit every element of it without choice. And because of the way that the UK media are, they feel an ownership over you. Literally like a full on ownership. And then they give the impression to some of their, well, most of the readers, that that is the case. But I think it's a really dangerous place to be if you don't have a choice, but then, of course, then people quite rightly will turn around and go. So what if you didn't have a choice? It was privilege? [...] Page Six of the New York Post, they took pictures of my son being picked up from school on his first day [...] But I guess my point is the way that I look at it, especially now living here one hour outside LA. Like it's a feeding frenzy here. We spent the first three and a half months living at Tyler Perry's house. You let us stay. And the helicopter helicopters, the drones the paparazzi cutting the fence like it was madness. And people out there -Their response was, Well, what do you expect if you live in LA? It's like, Okay, well, first of all, we didn't mean to live in LA. This is like a staging area before we try and find a house. And secondly, how sad that if you live in LA and you're well known figure, you just have to accept it. The first security we had, I said, Well, where's the safest place? Inside. Just because I'm a well known person, you can't go outside anymore. [...] it's really, really sad. And of course, their argument is - the paparazzi and everybody else - is like all if you're in the public space, then it's absolutely fine for us to do it. So what is our human right as an individual and as a family, you're saying that if the moment we step foot out of our house, that it's open season and free game? What? Because of public interest?. There's no public interest in you taking your kids for a walk down the beach. Nothing...

And on and on it goes... He should've stayed in the UK then. The Cambridges are managing very nicely, thank you. They take their kids for walks on the beach, and we'd never seen them until they released their anniversary video the other week. Harry's clearly envious of William; Harry's mad wife is vitriolically envious of Catherine. Oh and I’m pretty sure it’s the mad wife who keeps phoning her go-to paps when she needs to be in the news again.

PH: [...] I believe we live in an age now where you've got certain elements of the media redefining to us what privacy means. There's a massive conflict of interest. And then you've got social media platforms, trying to redefine what free speech means. Why - I wonder why you're doing that. And again - so this has been happening for 15 years now. And we're living in this world where we've almost like all the laws have been completely flipped by the very people that need them flipped so they can make more money and they can capitalise off our pain, grief, and this sort of general self destructive mode that's happening at the moment [...]

He doesn't get how hypocritical this is, does he? The Markles are the ones capitalising on their grief, pain and the rest of it. And no-one would be interested in them without the royal bits because they have nothing else to offer. Failed actress and used-to-be-a-soldier wrapped up in festering bitterness.

Blah, blah... went shopping in a supermarket... saw lots of chewing gum... blah, blah... Archie on the back of his bicycle... girls want to be princesses... You don't need to be a princess, you can create the life that will be better than any princess or it's something along those lines... she said she expected [the press] to be fair... Pages and pages of how he hates the British press...

PH: [...] And especially when you can't defend yourself so yes, I think when you marry into it, especially when it's one Princess Diana's sons there is a certain amount of 'okay what I'm actually letting myself in for?' But very few people actually know - apart from the Brits - how toxic that element of the of the UK press is.[...]

We're up to page 24 now, if you're still with me. Oh here it is, Harry's unconscious bias... What’s the betting the mad wife has scripted this bit for him?

PH: [...] So going back to the whole sort of travelling around the Commonwealth, I thought I knew, right, having been able to travel that much and meet so many and such a diverse group of people. I thought I understood life. Especially bearing in mind most of the countries I was going to were, most of the communities are going to were people of colour. But then I was really shocked once I started doing therapy. And that bubble was burst. And I started doing my own work, really - a lot of work - and started to uncover and understand more about unconscious bias. And I was like, wow, I thought since I screwed up when I was younger, and then did the work. I thought I then knew. But I didn't. And I still don't fully know. It's like a constant working progress. And every single one of us has it. [...] Everyone has biases, of all sorts. But I think it's a really important point, especially now, after everything's happened in the last year and a half, like the world is changing, the younger generation are driving it. And you've got to like a multi-racial, cultural sort of movement happening, which has never happened before. But unconscious bias is the way that I understand it, is, again, it's not something that's wrong with you. Right? And you don't have to be defensive about it. That's the thing. No one's blaming you. But the moment that you acknowledge that you do have unconscious bias, what are you going to do about it? Because if you choose to do nothing you're continuing to fuel the problem, which means that you're then heading towards racism. Whereas unconscious bias is actually something that is inherent, unfortunately, in every single one of us. But that it is possible to educate yourself to be more aware of the problems and therefore be part of the solution rather than part of the problem.

Markle's got him well-trained on this one, hasn't she. I wonder if he's read anything critical of the unconscious bias movement, or just repeating what he's been told to. Oh and then he goes off about being in the army...

PH: I loved it. I love wearing the same uniform as everybody else. I love being treated the same. I love the expectation of if you want to get that job, or you want that promotion, or you want to finish this race, it's all on you. There's no special treatment, you're not going to get any help. If anything, you're probably going to get treated the opposite because everyone thinks that you've had an easy life. And everyone's always helped you get to where you are.

But...but...but, Harry wasn't treated the same, there was special treatment, he was helped to get to where he was. He scraped a couple of poor quality A Levels and got admitted to Sandhurst because he's a prince. Good old Wikipedia says:

In June 2003, Harry completed his education at Eton with two A-Levels,[22] achieving a grade B in art and D in geography, having decided to drop history of art after AS level.[23] He has been described as "a top tier athlete", having played competitive polo and rugby union.[24] One of Harry's former teachers, Sarah Forsyth, has asserted that Harry was a "weak student" and that staff at Eton conspired to help him cheat on examinations.[25][26] Both Eton and Harry denied the claims.[25][27] While a tribunal made no ruling on the cheating claim, it "accepted the prince had received help in preparing his A-level 'expressive' project, which he needed to pass to secure his place at Sandhurst."[25][28]

PH: And then suddenly, like - while I was at school, I hated exams. And I promised myself I'd never do exams again. Then I joined the army of which is full of exams. I still promised myself I'm never gonna do it and then I end up flying Apache [...]

Gods, it's getting boring. Even the interviewers are zoning out. Still ten pages to go. Wish I hadn't started this, I could be out weeding. Weather's nice, not too windy... Do I deserve a quick G&T yet?

PH: Or worse, was they turn around and say, right, because last week, you're out the front. This week, you got to carry his bergan, I'm like - what, 30 extra pounds? Nooo. But it was, it was the most normalising experience or job that I could have ever hoped for. And then going to Afghanistan twice [...] And someone said to me very recently, from the moment that you're born into today's world, life is trauma, so the sooner that we actually acknowledge that but but [...]

A-a-a-a-and he's back on the mental health thing, PTSD or PTSI,

PH: Post Traumatic Stress Injury is like: Well, that makes sense, because I just saw my mate get blown out. But the other piece of this is, what we need to remember is, the lot of the recruiting that we do in the UK, comes from certain cities and certain homes, where there's childhood trauma. So what we collectively have already got inside of us, the trigger of seeing something happen in Iraq, Afghanistan can be the trigger. So everyone goes: Oh, it's because they were on operations, and because they saw their makeup blown up. It's like, no. [...] So that's what I've been working on for years, for the last five years, which is like, and it started in therapy of like, I don't want to lose this thing, because I think it's, I feel so connected to my mum. [...]

They move on to parenting, which the press is rubbing its hands over... Harry blaming everyone but himself and his saintly mother - Charles, HMTQ, PP... "They f*ck you up, your mum and dad". But not the mum bit. He can't push his mum off her pedestal.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48419/this-be-the-verse if you don't know Larkin's poetry. How much more? Nearly there. Monica loves The Crown and doesn't realise it's fictitious.

DS: [...]Well, Harry, I've really really liked talking to you. You're very charming. You're very intelligent. You're handsome, and I can't wait to see your torso.

MP: Thank you so much for coming.

DS: So I just want to remind everyone that May 21 on Apple Plus, you should check out Oprah and Prince Harry's 'The Me You Can't See'. I have to imagine it's similar to her book, which I just read, which is absolutely incredible 'What happened to you?' So everyone should check out 'The me you can't see' on Apple plus May 21.

And still Harry won't shut up... Shut up, shut up. Cut his mic. You don't have to read this last bit, they've already wound up the interview...He still won’t shut up.

PH: Yeah, we're moving from the physical to the emotional, right, physically. At the beginning of this pandemic, people were panicking. And there was that fight or flight like, ahh what do we do like lockdown, survival? Yeah. And now that the vaccines have been sort of, we're getting to the point where more and more people are being vaccinated, we're now in the emotional phase of what I read in the New York Times article was called languishing, which is really interesting. It's like the is the middle child between flourishing and depression. You just feel flat, and it's not depressed. It's definitely not flourishing. You lack the energy and the will, the motivation, all that kind of stuff. Because you're kind of sitting there going - Well, what happens next? And I think it's really important that we talk about languishing. And it was coined by someone I can't remember who but I think it was the journalist who wrote the story was Adam Grant. No, he didn't come up with it. Someone else came up with him, he wrote this, the most amazing article about languishing and the fact that how important it is to be able to talk about it because - look when it comes to mental health, we need to realise and accept that every single one of us have mental health. There's varying degrees, as we said, you've got the mental illness, and then you've got the sort of the awareness and the work that you can put in, like, Where do you want to be that we shouldn't just sit there and go: Oh, mental illness is once we are literally on the floor crawling around in the foetal position needing help. But for me, I don't think I need therapy anymore. But I wanted. And when I say therapy, I mean, actual therapy, sitting down having a discussion with someone. But I also mean like, nature, like going for walks, like throwing the ball for my dog down the beach and stuff like that. There are certain things around the world that are free, some you have to pay for, but ultimately go searching for the things that make you feel good about yourself. Like that's the key to life, get rid of the bad stuff, get rid of the hate, and just focus on the good. And your whole life turns around from that. I hate this idea. And I was one of them. I fell for it. Right? I didn't acknowledge that clearly what happened to me when I was 12 years old, losing my mom and all the other pieces that happened, the traumatic experiences that happened to me since then, I didn't acknowledge them, when perhaps - maybe I need to deal with this because if I don't, how the hell am I going to be a decent father to my son and my daughter? Like that awareness, I didn't have then. But again, we've got what - 40 experts as part of this series, and the Surgeon General, Dr. Nadine Burke Harris, she's absolutely fantastic. And she was talking about this concept of mental health being sort of public health, right. Because the services are so limited. There's not enough money. The problem is actually immense. How can we all help each other rather than this: 'Oh, once I'm broken, or once I'm suffering, I have to go here.' And there's not enough rooms or spaces for the amount of people or the for the need, when actually you can get ahead of it, and work on the prevention by sharing and being more vulnerable with each other, and being able to process this grief or this loss, or this trauma that every single one of us have experienced and will experience. So anyone who's sitting there going: 'I don't have a problem, and I never will have a problem.' Well, you probably are already contributing to the problem, because you probably got your blinkers on, you probably created your own echo chambers. So I think it's a that, that's certainly what I've experienced for my own process, my own journey, my family and my friends and everybody else is. Anyone who thinks, oh, we're fine. You're the one who's like, willing to talk about it. It's like, yeah, I'm willing to talk about it and talking about it. And the financial element as well. We're pouring money into on the downsteam, when it's like, Can we just focus upstream? Yeah, we focus on one thing, like to me listen to Oprah was what was one of the reasons that this whole thing started was two of the biggest issues that we're facing in today's world, I think, is the climate crisis, and mental health. And they're both intrinsically linked. Basically if we neglect our collective wellbeing, then we're screwed. Basically, because we can't look after ourselves. We can't look after each other. We can't look after each other, we can't look after this home that we all inhabit. So it's all part of the same thing.

DS: Prince Harry, I don't say this lightly. I love you. Thanks for coming. This was great.

M: Thank you so much.

PH: Thank you very much.

Wish I'd done my weeding.

[sope-and-shine]

-> Pairing: Loki!Yoongi x Pregnant!Wife!Reader -> SFW // Fluff // Marvel Universe  -> Word Count: 2.1k  -> Summary: Cute fluff with your husband, Prince Yoongi of Asgard -> Warning(s): Minor minor minor spoiler for Thor, the story at the beginning is a bit graphic as it describes how the cosmos were made from a giant.

A/N: This is my 3rd idea for a Loki!Yoongi oneshot. I blame no one but Tom Hiddleston for this sudden urge to write about Loki!

The story at the beginning is also not mine. Obviously, it’s Norse mythology. I took the short excerpt straight from this website:  

Source: https://norse-mythology.org/tales/norse-creation-myth/

Also, a big thank you to the loml @multycoloredtaco​ for reading over this! 💕

* * *

In a quiet corner at the front of the palace library is a window bench covered with a large red cushion and throw pillows in various patterns of red and gold. You sit just under the stained glass window with a pillow behind your back against the wall, another pillow under your knees to prop them up, and a large book resting atop of your swollen belly. The sun peeking through the glass leaves colorful rays over your text, adding a pop of color as you read.

“-So, Odin and his brothers slew Ymir and set about constructing the world from his corpse. They fashioned the oceans from his blood, the soil from his skin and muscles, vegetation from his hair, clouds from his brains, and the sky from his skull.” You read aloud. You’ve always held an interest in the creation of the cosmos and Asgard’s history. It fascinated you to no end, and you could spend hours upon hours reading and rereading the legends from battles long ago. It’s a wonder to all that you don’t already know them all by heart.

You take a moment to turn the page, “A fine tale if I do say so myself.” 

Before you can continue your reading, two small kicks just under the left side of your book draw your attention, “Ouch! Could you stop that?” You ask. All morning the rascals inside of you had done nothing but kick and move. You’ve tried eating, walking around the palace, and even stretching as your healer suggested, but you’re always met with nothing but soft kicks. 

When another pair of feet on the opposite side of the first join in the kicking, you let out a sigh, “Well, you both can tell each other a story if you don’t like it!” This earns you more kicks in response. You’d always thought talking to your children was a silly thought, that they couldn’t truly hear you or understand you. But this was the easiest you’ve ever been convinced to believe an old wives tale.

“I swear, one of you better take after me.” You mumble, resting the hands that held your book on top of your stomach to gently rub away the small aches. Your husband was a wonderful role model and would no doubt teach them what it means to respect others and be respected, but his childish tendencies and smug demeanor could poke at your nerves at the wrong time. Just as the incessant kicking of your unborn children were beginning to drive you up a wall.

The door to the palace library opens with a creak, alerting you to a new intruder. You turn to see his slightly tousled black hair move past the door, long green cape billowing behind him as he walks towards the center of the room completely missing your presence.

“Sweetheart, are you in here?” Yoongi calls. He looks through the rows of shelves beside him, completely ignoring your stare from the very visible corner. It was funny to think how such an observant man could easily lose track of you. Especially nowadays.

“Over here! In the corner!” You call out to your husband. He turns on his heel, revealing a pair of black pants with a dark green shirt. He breaks into his beautiful gummy smile that you love so much as he comes towards you. You’ve always known that if you could only have one view for the rest of your life, then a vision like the one before you was all you’d ever need. When he’s within a few feet of your bench you slightly tilt your book towards you, “I’m just doing some light reading.”

“Your version of light or mine?” He asks, taking a seat next to you on the bench.

“Very funny, Yoongi.” You nudge his arm with your own and he feigns hurt, causing you to giggle at his playfulness. You stretch your arms out in front of you and leave the to rest on top of your book, “Tell me, what have I done for the Prince of Asgard to grace me with his presence at such an hour?”

“Well, if you must know then you’ll have to come with me.” He goes to take the book away from you and you pull it towards your chest in a hurry, “But my reading time!”

“I apologize, I didn’t realize 3 in the afternoon was such an inconvenient time.” He teases, pulling his hands away to hold them up in mock surrender.

You pout, “It’s for your children...” 

You rest the book in the position you had it before you were interrupted to continue your reading, childishly avoiding his gaze while doing so. He is not so easily swayed, however, as one of his hands comes to rest over your own. You can feel him lean in next to you, placing a feather light kiss to your temple, “It can wait just an hour, dear.”

If there was one thing Yoongi knew about women that his brother didn’t know, it was how to deal with an angry woman. Of course, he enjoys riling people up at the most inconvenient of times, but he knew when enough was enough. Riling you up was a favorite pass time of his before you’d become pregnant. Now, he settles for small quips that most likely won’t leave him frozen to the floor thanks to your own powers and shortened temper.

You sigh in content, allowing your eyes to close, “Be grateful that I am your wife, or I would curse you until you went away.”

“I’ll do my best to keep that in mind.” He laughs. He takes the book from your lap and places it open at the end of your bench, turning back to offer an open hand to you, “Now, shall we?”

You accept his open hand and allow him to help you stand from the bench, one hand coming to rest at your waist while the other holds your hand to guide you out of the library. This action alone was one most of the palace was still becoming accustomed to. It wasn’t that he’d never enjoyed public affection, but he’d become more and more attentive to your needs as your pregnancy has progressed. Holding hands, calming hugs, and even kisses that most would keep secret had become a normal for the two of you to express openly. If you had asked him to even blow a kiss to you 6 months ago he would have laughed in your face and called you cute - if only that Yoongi could see himself now.

You pass by the occasional palace worker as you walk through the corridor, offering a small nod and simple “good afternoon” on your way to the mysterious destination. It is a surprise when you begin to realize where he’s taking you.

“Why have you brought me to the nursery? And why is it being guarded while no one resides there?” You ask as you come to a stop, staring in confusion at the two guards in front of the doors.

“It’s very important that nothing happens to this room, sweetheart. Why don’t we open the doors and you can find out why?” His smile is so bright you think for a moment he’s actually the sun in disguise the way he beams with pure joy. 

He motions to the men guarding the doors to open them, and as soon as there’s just a crack of space between them you’re met with the refreshing smell of lavender waving through the air. It draws you closer to the doors as they open, and ignites further excitement and sheer joy when you finally see the interior has changed since you’d last seen the room. 

The once plain white walls were now a beautiful yellow, resembling the petals of the sunflowers that bloom in the palace garden. At every window, forest green drapes hang pulled to the side to let in the light. Matching sets of dressers, bookshelves, and chests rest on opposite walls from each other on the sides of the room. A large, circular brown rug rests in the center of the room with two over-sized bassinets resting on opposite sides of the other and a lone rocking chair at the very center between the two. 

When you’d first been given a room for the new family members, you had only asked that they put beds in the room as they would be sleeping in your room for the first few months. You hadn’t felt there was a need to waste time with more cribs or toys when they weren’t truly needed. But this...it was more than you ever dreamed you would have.

“Yoongi...” You’re left completely speechless, unsure of what to say. Though it would seem Yoongi takes your lack of speech as a bad sign.

 He moves in front of you with his back turned to the room, walking backwards with his hands held out almost as if he wishes to calm you, “Now, I know the healers said we’d have one of each but I didn’t want to get in over my head just in case-!”

“Yoongi-” You try to reassure him, but the man has already turned away from you to pick up something he’d placed in one of the beds.

He pulls out a blanket as white as snow and holds it up for you to see it in its entirety, “And I know you said you wanted everything to be perfect for them when they were ready to sleep in here-”

“Yoongi-” 

The poor man continues on his rant while refolding the blanket he’d picked up in a haste, “Of course they’ll be in our room for the first few months. Maybe a year. How long until they have to have their own rooms?” He asks, turning to find you standing right in front of him with the blanket still in hand.

“Yoongi!” You take the fluffy blanket from his hands and lay it in the bed he’d taken it from, turning back to gently take his hands in your own. You smile, “I love it.”

“Good...good.” He lets out a breath, one he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding since he went off on his tangent.

“I know you’re nervous about becoming a father, especially now that you’ve stepped in for Odin while he rests and Jeongguk is still banished to Midgard-” You see his face twitch and you stop. So much in so little time had changed and it must be now that he’s finally noticed. You realize that his sudden displays of physical affection may not just be for you. You drop your original thought and reach up around his neck to pull your husband into a much needed hug, “You make a fine leader, Yoongi. You’ll make an ever better father.”

Yoongi sighs, pulling you as close as he can with your bump in the way, “I just want to ensure that our family will be well taken care of.”

“We are~” You chuckle at his sudden anxiety and pull away. He’s never been one to truly be nervous for anything, and now he was becoming scatterbrained! You reach and gently cup his cheek, with a teasing smile, “You worry too much, you’ll get wrinkles.”

You watch as his calm exterior falters with an unamused frown, “Wrinkles are not my current concern.”

You tilt your head and turn your attention to the hairs that have fallen out of place on his head, “They should be.” 

“I-” You turn your attention back to him, pausing the attention you were giving to his hair. He looked as though he wanted to say something, like something was on the tip of his tongue and he wanted to spit it out and just tell you but he couldn’t. Your brows furrow in concern and he sighs. He averts his eyes to the space between you, “I’ve made plans for a few...small changes.”

Both of your hands make their way to his cheeks this time. Only this time your gentle smile is replaced with a serious look, “Yoongi, whatever you do will be for the better of Asgard. I have faith in that and you should too!”

He smiles, “I’ll try.” 

“My King, the universe is in your favor~” You wrap him in another hug, this one tighter than your last with a hand entangled in his hair.

“I hope it works in our favor as well.” His hold on you tightens as well. Only this time is in hopes that you never find out what he’s done and intends to do to win his father’s favor.

#fae fic #sope-and-shine #oneshot #myg oneshot #drabble #myg drabble #marvel #thor au #marvel au #loki yoongi #pregnant reader #reader insert #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts suga x reader #y/n #fanfiction #fan fiction #bts fanfiction #bts fan fiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #bts suga #domestic AU #fluff #sfw

[yuta-nakamots]

Groove - k.ji

Pairing - Idol!Jongin x Choreographer!Reader

Genre - Fluff

Warnings - None

Summary - You are a choreographer chosen to work with Jongin for his upcoming solo album. He’s an idol and you’re not, it’s as simple as that until you find yourselves dancing between the lines of business and something more intimate.

Word Count - 6k

A/N - This is the reworked version of ‘a dance to remember’ which I wrote when I was about 15 years old. That piece itself is based on a dream I had about EXO. This essentially is a fic written about a fic written about a dream so I’m sorry if it seems kinda disjointed.

When you were younger, you had discovered that you had an immense passion for dance and you had begged your parents to let you join the small dance studio near your school. Even if it was just an average dance school it wasn’t uncommon for the bigger entertainment companies to recruit backup dancers or choreographers from studios like yours, which is how you had met a handful of idols before. Each month, you had to go in and perform a short piece that you created in order to keep track of your progress. Normally, the room these progress videos were shot in are empty aside from you, the company director, and a couple of cameras set up to catch multiple angles.

However, this time around, there was a man standing next to your director. As you entered, you quickly greeted and bowed to your director and did the same to the guest. He was wearing a chocolate brown hoodie and light blue jeans along with a pair of rounded glasses and a face mask. He was quite tall and looked almost intimidating until you met his eyes that were warm and inviting but awfully familiar. Not wanting to be weird, you quickly turned around and made your way to the stereo equipment to plug in your phone and start the music. You finish your recording quickly and respectfully thank your director before leaving the studio to head home, your thoughts still preoccupied with the stranger who you were confident you had met somewhere before.

A week later, you received an email from the director: Good evening Y/n, From your video we recorded earlier this week, you’ve been recruited to work with EXO member Kai as a choreographer for his upcoming solo album. Congratulations on this achievement! We are looking forward to what you will create this time around. I will give you more details on this after your regularly scheduled class today.

The warm brown eyes that were all too familiar flashed inside your mind as you thought about all of his performances that you had watched before, wanting to learn from him and his style. The eyes of the stranger that had stood next to your director the day you recorded your video. No, it couldn’t have been him, you thought to yourself, there’s no way an idol would come to our dance studio. You shook your head to break yourself out of your imagination as you got ready to head over to the studio and teach your class.

You were going through your text message as you entered the room your class was in and walked right into your director. You immediately back up and profusely apologize, freezing once you recognize the person he was previously talking to. “Oh, y/n, this is Kai from EXO! I was just telling him how he should stay to watch you teach this class so he can get a taste of what your style is like.”

Kai looked from your director to you, offering you one of his signature smiles that have been known to melt hearts. “I’d love to” was all he had to say to make your stomach drop to the floor and your hands start sweating.

As you taught your class, you felt an intense stare on you the entire time, glancing over at Kai only a few times, finding him looking right back at you, causing you to suddenly jerk your head away only to hear Kai let out a quiet giggle from the corner he was sitting in. Eventually, you learn to ignore his presence and you continue teaching your class and wrapping up as you normally would. As your students begin filing out the door, Kai eagerly gets up and strides over to you. “Hey, y/n, I really liked the energy of that class and the genre of the piece you taught, I’m looking forward to working with you!” he said, the edges of his eyes crinkling as he smiled at you, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to get your number so we can talk more about the album” and he offered you his phone, already open to a blank contact page.

You quickly wipe your hands on your shirt before grabbing his phone, entering your number and handing it back to him with a shy “thank you, I look forward to working with you too”.

Later that night, you got a text from an unknown number.

Unknown > y/n 10:15pm: hi y/n, this is Jongin! ^^

You type a simple greeting back to him as you add him to your contact list and slip into bed. He immediately responds and starts asking questions about you, which you brushed off as him just being friendly. Your conversation continues for another half hour, consisting of mostly him asking about you and your interests accompanied by various cute emoticons until you finally grow tired of it.

y/n > EXO Kai 10:49pm: Why do you keep asking about me? What if I want to hear more about you?

EXO Kai > y/n 10:51pm: because I want to get to know you better （⌒_⌒）

10:51pm: I like to have a connection with the people I’m working with. even more so now, since this solo album is something new and special to me

10:52pm: besides, you can hear about me all the time from the fansites and media 

His response makes you pause and set your phone down for a bit as you realize that there’s more depth to Kai and his personality than you thought. Wow, not only is he an amazing performer, he has a kind heart and values his relationships, even if they’re only for work purposes. You were shocked, to say the least. From your experience working with idols, yes, you did get to know each other but they didn’t ask you about your hobbies or favorite foods like how Kai did. This just added to your list of reasons why this man is out of your league. No, he is not out of my league. We are not even in the same sport. He is an idol, he will not date you, stop it, you thought as you reprimanded yourself. However, you picked up your phone to message him back and continue your conversation, even though you dozed off not even five minutes later, failing to see the new texts you received from Kai.

EXO Kai > y/n 11:03pm: y/nnnnnn 

11:03pm: where did you gooooo >.<

11:04pm: ah, you must have fallen asleep

11:04pm: rest well y/n, goodnight (￣ε￣)

The rest of your week passes by uneventfully with you going to university and teaching your classes as usual. The only new addition to your schedule was a sort of ‘date’ with Kai on Thursday afternoon, your free day during the week, and also the day you were scheduled to meet with the other staff working on his album to get a sense of what kind of image they wanted. He had texted you asking if he could treat you to lunch at the SM Cafe after your meeting which you agreed to.

By the time Thursday comes around, you’re already feeling worn out from school, barely even able to put together an outfit and settling for a simple black t-shirt and jeans. You took the bus to the company building since you didn’t know where to park and you figured it would save gas anyways. The meeting was a nice refresher, as you were interested in the ideas the staff was putting out and you left the meeting feeling reenergized with tons of ideas flying through your head. You met Kai at the cafe as you had promised, finding him easily due to his large frame.  “You look nice, y/n” he commented, as you sat down opposite to him. You said a shy ‘thank you’ back while turning and looking out the window, hoping he didn’t notice the blush that had begun to show up on your cheeks. 

Lunch goes smoothly as he allows you to ask him questions this time around and he tells you about his hobby of playing with legos and putting elaborate things together to give to his nieces and nephews or how he has given up learning how to bake. You don’t miss the way his hands brush yours when you pass him a napkin after some of the coffee he was drinking spills out the side of this mouth or when both of you reach for your phone before it falls off the table. Maybe it’s because of all the times you’ve daydreamed about him after learning one of the dances he’s done, but to you, this ‘casual lunch’ is beginning to feel more and more like a date. Luckily, you two finish eating quickly and he asks if you’d be willing to show him some of the ideas you have so far. You eagerly told him yes along with a few details from the meeting and how you’re really excited to further refine them. 

Once both of you are in a practice room upstairs, you and Kai decide to sit in the middle of the room and talk about possible concepts and stories that could be portrayed, however, the conversation quickly strays off-topic due to Kai and his seemingly never-ending curiosity when it comes to you. “What do you do besides dancing and teaching your own classes?” he asks, looking more like a troublesome toddler than the idol you were supposed to be working with. 

You push that thought aside before responding, “I’m currently in university, majoring in business since I’m set to take over the dance school from the director.”

Kai keeps his eyes glued to you while you speak, the only movement coming from his fidgeting hands. After you finish speaking, he looks down in his lap before shyly speaking, “sometimes I like to think about what I’d be doing if I wasn’t an idol, you know? Would I have joined a dance studio like yours? Would I be in college right now? Would I have a girlfriend? Would I maybe even have a child?” He paused for a bit and ran a hand through his hair while moving to lie down. “I genuinely think that if I weren’t an idol, I’d still be in school. Being with animals and kids gives me so much joy, I’ve often thought about being a veterinarian or an elementary school teacher. Though they are drastically different, I find both of them to be so appealing” he said, letting out a sigh at the end of his sentence.

“Do you ever think that you’d be happier doing those things rather than where you are now?”

Kai looked over at you, not noticing you had laid down next to him as if both of you were outside looking at clouds. “Maybe...however, I’m still satisfied with the path my life took. Yes, there are drawbacks to being a public figure but I’m happy with all the experiences it has given me.” Sensing how the mood has become a little too serious for his liking, Kai decides to ask you another question. “Who’s your favorite member in my group?”

You let out a laugh, dumbfounded by his sudden question. “I’m not saying this just because you’re here, but it’s you and has been for a while now” you said sheepishly, keeping your eyes locked on the ceiling to keep yourself from looking at Kai and showing him your now pink-tinted cheeks.

“For a while now?” he asked, quoting your words. “How long have you been a fan of us?”

“Since your debut,” you said, throwing your hands on your face to hide your embarrassment before exclaiming, “ah, this is so awkward, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” Fortunately, your embarrassment didn’t last long thanks to your roommate who had just sent you a text. You gladly moved away from Kai to check your phone, inwardly thanking your roommate for saving you from what could have become a shameful memory. Oh shit it’s already past 10? you thought to yourself, shocked at how quickly time passed while you were with Kai. “My roommate was just asking where I was since it’s getting kinda late,” you told him, “normally I don’t stay out this late since I have class tomorrow morning so I should probably get going now, especially since I have to catch the last bus which comes in a bit, I think.”

You stood up, but before you could so much as take a step towards the door, Kai stopped you. “I can drive you home” he offered, to which you vehemently refused, “you’re my choreographer and I’d hate for anything to happen to you when you haven’t even taught me the dance to my own song yet” he said, giving you the puppy eyes you’ve seen countless times through videos of him.

You can tell that he’s being sincere so eventually you accept his offer, but something about his words doesn’t sit quite right. You had told each other so much about yourselves and shown such an embarrassing side of yourself to him, yet he only regarded you as his choreographer. Because that’s what I am, you thought, trying to shove those thoughts out of your head, I’m nothing more than just his choreographer, a work acquaintance. This is simply a relationship based on our work together. He is an idol and I am his choreographer. Nothing more, nothing less. You internally slapped yourself for getting riled up over his words when he was only trying to be nice.

Once you were in his car, you told him your address as you put your seatbelt on. The ride home is mostly silent aside from little side comments made between the two of you, like when he tells you about how he and the members once went to the samgyeopsal restaurant you passed earlier and how Chanyeol proceeded to get absolutely wasted to the point where the members played rock paper scissors to decide who would be taking care of him for the night.

Time, again, seemed to pass a little faster than normal when you were talking to Kai and laughing with him. When he pulled up in front of your apartment building, you unbuckle your seatbelt and began to thank him, “Kai-”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Calling you what?”

“Kai.”

“...Because it’s your name?” At this point, you were beyond confused as to what Kai was getting at.

“It’s one of my names, but it’s not MY name. My name is Jongin. Yes, Kai is my name as well but that’s who I am on stage...please, just call me Jongin from now on” he let out, sitting further back into his seat once he realized how aggressive he sounded.

“O-oh, okay. Goodnight Jongin.” Though you were used to saying that name while talking to your friends about his dancing or when they showed you pictures of him, this time it sounded foreign. Almost even forced, as if you shouldn’t be saying it.

Once you unlock the door and walk into your apartment, you receive a text from him.

EXO Kai > y/n 10:36pm: I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that, it’s just that being called Kai all the time makes me feel disconnected from people, you know? It’s like people see me only as Kai the idol and not Jongin, a regular person.

10:37pm: Kai is the side the fans and the media see and want while Jongin is just the sad guy behind the mask

10:37pm: Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that either. I’m just making this worse aren’t I?

You see the bubble pop up again, showing you that he was typing but before he can send you another message, you text him back.

y/n > EXO Kai 10:38pm: Jongin, it’s fine. I may not be an idol but I get what you mean

10:39pm: I didn’t know that even something like your stage name could have such a restraining feeling for you, and I’m sorry about that. But thank you for opening up to me

You see that he read your message but you don’t see him typing a response so you lock your phone and start your night routine, eventually forgetting to check your phone.

When you woke up the next morning, you saw that Kai, no, Jongin, you reminded yourself, texted you around midnight but you didn’t open his message until lunch when you were done with most of your classes for the day.

Jongin > y/n 12:16am: Goodnight y/n. I’m sorry I’m not the idol you always looked up to, but thank you for listening to me and respecting me as a person. Thank you, see you next week. I can’t wait to see what you have choreographed for me (⌒ω⌒)

And there it was again, the way he speaks so fondly towards you yet he still brings it back to work. You had to remind yourself that the relationship between the two of you is only because of work and that no matter what, you cannot develop feelings for him. It’s not like he’d have time for me anyways, I’m nothing special compared to those other girls he’s dated, you thought to yourself.

You spend the rest of the week doing your usual activities along with choreographing for the title track of Jongin’s album. Though the company sent you just the demo of the track, you could already tell that this sort of song was definitely his style. Sexy yet sweet. Hot but undeniably cool.

A month had passed since Jongin first confided in you about his idol dilemma. After teaching Jongin and the rest of the dancers the choreo you made for the title track, you were no longer needed quite as often in the practice room, which resulted in you seeing Jongin less as his preparations started to stack up in his schedule. He still made it a point to take you out for lunch or dinner, which surprised you since he didn’t necessarily need to keep up a relationship with you now that your part in the album production was over. It was at those times when you were reminded of the instance when he was dropping you off, that he’s human and has friends he hangs out with, you just might have gotten lucky and become one of them.

Your text message chat with him went back and forth between you two talking about the choreo and the comeback to deep late-night conversations like how Sehun saw a cockroach in the shower one night and ran out butt-naked, screaming. Just like your chat, your relationship with Jongin became more confusing as the line between business and friendship blurred even further. Jongin texts you late on a Wednesday night to come to the ‘cloud’ room, which you had mistakenly called it once after watching one too many of the old SM dance practice videos, tomorrow around noon. Similar to when the incident with his name occurred, his message didn’t have the cute emoticons you were used to him sending. You wondered if something in the choreo needed to be changed last minute and sent him a simple thumbs up to let him know you’d be there.

You spent the rest of your Wednesday night reanalyzing the choreo you made, trying to find any flaws that would have resulted in Jongin texting you so seriously and asking you to come in person instead of sending a video along with his questions as usual. By Thursday afternoon, you had a few things in mind that you could easily smooth over and your mind was flooded with different combos and formations to use as you walked through the building to the practice room you told Jongin you’d meet him at.

You entered without knocking since usually the whole team is at work and you don’t want to disrupt whatever they’re working on, so you quietly stepped in and closed the door but you yelped when you heard a loud bang from the area near the sound equipment. Glancing over, you spot Jongin with his balled-up fists on the table and realized the rest of the team wasn’t here. It was just you and him, which led to you being even more confused as to why he had asked you to come in. After hearing the noise you made, Jongin’s head perked up and found you, “oh, y/n, you came.” His tense features immediately relaxing into a loose half-smile where you could see just how tired he was. “I need help on the main part of the chorus. No matter how many times I do it, there just isn’t the right feeling with it and I don’t get it” he said, almost whining.

You sat against the mirror, watching him do it a few times until you got up and stood next to him, facing the mirror. “Jongin you’re treating it way too strictly. This is the chorus, not a dance break, just groove with it, have fun with it, you know?” You danced the part to further show your point.

“Groove with it? What do you mean ‘groove with it?’” He asked, confusion clearly evident on his face and in his voice.

“Relax and think about the song itself. Think about the meaning, the style of it, not the choreography” you responded. He did as you showed him and looked at you for approval. “Good, but keep that same intensity in your eyes from earlier.” He did it again, staring straight into your eyes through your reflection in the mirror, almost sending shivers down your body. You smiled to acknowledge that you liked it and Jongin’s face lit up, seeing as he finally perfected what he deemed to be the ‘killing point’ of the dance, as he had said when you first showed it to him.

After another hour, you and Jongin had gone over the entire dance and worked out any remaining questions he had for you. Just as the two of you were getting ready to leave and head over to the cafe, Jongin called out your name, coming to stand next to where you were packing up your bag.

“Hey Y/N...I-uh-wanted to tell you that I-um-I think-” he began, before you interrupted him, not wanting to hear him stuttering anymore.

“Jongin, do you want to go over something again? Is that what’s bothering you?”

“N-no, it’s just that I think, uh, I think I really like you...r dance...yeah...I really like your dance, the one you made for me in my album, uh haha yeah thank you.” His cheeks and ears started turning pink as he quickly turned around to go gather his things.

Did he just say what I thought he said, you asked yourself, no, he couldn’t have. There’s no way he’d say that. All it would do is hurt his career anyway, he wouldn’t do that. You silenced your thoughts and left the practice room with him to get dinner.

You ate with him at the cafe but your conversation didn’t seem to flow as naturally as it normally did. He kept looking at you like he wanted to say something but never did. The normal playful touches you usually shared weren’t there either and you hated yourself for noticing these things. This was probably just his way of nicely ending our relationship since he probably won’t be working with me again in the future.

As you both made your way down to your cars in the parking lot, Jongin stepped in front of you right after exiting the elevator, looking down at his feet like a little kid would when they’re being scolded.

“Y/N I’d like to thank you for working with me for my solo debut, it really means a lot to me,” this is where you think he’s going to just thank you and say goodnight, but he doesn’t, “I’d like to ask you if you’d come to the first broadcast next week Monday. I know you have class but I won’t be going on until later. You don’t have to if you don’t want to because I know you’re really busy being a student and all but-”

“Jongin, please, I would love to.” You said, saving the both of you from his endless ramblings.

When he finally meets your eyes he gives you a look full of cuteness and adoration be exclaiming, “Really?!”

“Yes, really.”

“Promise?!”

“Yes, Jongin. I promise I will be there.” He hugged you so tight you thought you were going to suffocate but before you could, he released you and skipped off in the direction of his car while happily giggling to himself, “goodnight y/n” he yelled, “see you on Monday.”

You slapped yourself for blushing at his cute outburst. He’s an idol, you’re not supposed to feel this warmth in your heart that yearned for him to hug you again, yet your mind constantly wandered to him during your whole drive back to your apartment.

As you were lying in bed, just about falling asleep, you got a text from Jongin.

Jongin > y/n 9:08pm: SHE SAID YES! (＠＾◡＾)

9:08pm: oh shit

9:08pm: sorry, that was meant for Baekhyun hyung

9:09pm: we were talking about a special girl (＃＞＜)

Your heart immediately dropped. It’s probably another girl he’s dating, seeing as how he’s dated other girl idols before. You knew that you shouldn’t be upset but you just were. It was at that moment that you realized your feelings towards Jongin. You quickly sent a simple ‘haha okay’ back, but his message left you wondering about the lucky girl he was talking about, hurt that you didn’t know who it was. He has no obligation to tell me anything, I’m only his choreographer, you told yourself, probably for the millionth time now.

Ever since that night, you hadn’t initiated a conversation with him though he still texted you occasionally. Sometimes it would be a goodnight message, other times it was just his late-night thoughts about how dogs would wear pants or what kind of sounds a koala makes. You didn’t want to admit it but that one text bothered you for the rest of the week, and as it got closer and closer to his first performance, the more you didn’t want to go. Almost as if Jongin was reading your mind, you received a text message from him.

Jongin > y/n 7:45pm: y/nnnnnn I can’t wait to see you tomorrow -\\3\\-

You were going to send another thumbs up again, but opted for a more cheerful ‘good luck!’ since you knew how much this meant to him and how hard he worked for this and you didn’t want to let your own feelings get in the way of his achievements. It’s not like you were going to be involved in his work much longer once his promotions ended. Maybe it was for the best if you just kept your feelings to yourself so he could go back to being just Kai, the idol, to you, and not the sweet and playful Jongin you had gotten to know and the one you had, unfortunately, fell for. Going to sleep that night was a huge struggle for you, constantly asking yourself if you were going to see him tomorrow or not. Eventually, you fell asleep before reaching a clear answer but knowing you’d have to decide tomorrow anyways

The next morning, you woke up to the sight of sunlight already filling your room, which was not a good sing. You quickly checked your phone and saw that you were already half an hour late to your first class along with noticing Jongin had sent you another message around 6AM though you didn’t read it since your first priority was to get to school. You turned your phone to Do Not Disturb mode and rushed through your morning routine, getting to school just as your second class was starting. After running in five minutes late and profusely apologizing to your professor, you took your normal seat in the back of the room, letting out a sigh of exhaustion.

Your lecture ended faster than you expected and as you waited in the line at the cafeteria you finally pulled out your phone to go through your notifications and saw that Jongin had sent you two more messages.

Jongin > y/n 6:13am: I’m so excited, i could barely even sleep! Good morning y/n, today’s the day! ＼(≧▽≦)／

Jongin > y/n 10:20am: We’re in the cafe ordering sandwiches to eat at the recording studio later. What do you want to drink? I can’t remember if it was the honey lemon tea or the honeydew milk tea (>_<)  

10:25am: y/nnnnn please answer meeeeee (╥_╥)

You couldn’t resist his cuteness and texted him back.

y/n > Jongin 10:27am: honey lemon :)

As soon as you hit send, you froze, realizing you had dug yourself into a hole, ultimately forcing yourself into going to the studio he would be performing at later. You were brought out of your dazed state when the person in the back of you cleared their throat loudly and you noticed it was your turn to order.

After you had ordered and received your food, you sat down and ate your lunch quickly, wanting to go to class and get your mind off of Jongin who was walking around up there as if he owned it.

The rest of your day went by quickly and as you got into your car, you let out a long sigh, not wanting to believe that you’d be going to the recording studio to support the man who not only held your heart in his hands but also unknowingly crushed it.

Once inside the studio, it was quite easy to find Jongin’s room, seeing all the staff rushing around with their SM lanyards on, similar to the one you had on. You walked into his room, expecting to be greeted by a loud Jongin, but instead, you were met with the blank stares of his fellow members, Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Sehun. Baekhyun was the only one who acknowledged you while the other two simply looked back down at their phones, thinking you were another staff member. “Ah, so you must be the wonderful y/n that our Jonginnie is always talking about! That idiot is always telling us about you, we were just wondering when we’d be able to meet him. He may fall in love quickly but he does have good judgment if you know what I mean.”

Both of the other members immediately perked up upon realizing who you were as your cheeks turned a bright shade of pink after hearing Baekhyun’s words. “J-Jongin talks about me?”

Baekhyun let out one of his big laughs before responding, “All the time! I can’t believe it took him this long to ask you out.”

If it was even humanly possible, you swear you turned even more pink. “Oh, we’re not dating. I think you’ve got me confused with another girl.” Your mind flew back to the text Jongin had accidentally sent you and all your emotions were about to come flooding back to you.

At that moment, Jongin entered the room and walked right into you. Baekhyun caught you, preventing you from what would’ve been an embarrassing fall, however, he only took it as an opportunity to push you right back into Jongin’s arms while yelling, “Ya! Kim Jongin, you idiot! I didn’t raise you to be such a coward, just ask her out already!” He then proceeded to bulldoze both of you out of the room and close the door while Chanyeol and Sehun only laughed while recording the whole thing, probably to send in their group chat later for the others to see.

Once both of you processed what just happened, you and Jongin looked at each other and he immediately released you from his hold and looked at the ground. You took this moment to appreciate his stylists for doing such a good job. He was wearing a full navy blue suit, similar to the legendary red one he wore in the Love Shot music video, further accentuating the light brown contacts he had in his eyes. He brought his hands to your shoulders before taking a deep breath and meeting your eyes.

“Y/n-”

“Jongin-” you both said, at the same time.

“Oh, sorry, you go first.” You blurted out, your heart already racing.  

He lightly squeezed your shoulders before saying, “I don’t know how much they told you in there but I suppose you probably already know that I...like you.”

The look on your face told him otherwise. “Weren’t you texting Baekhyun about another girl? A ‘special girl?’ That text you accidentally sent me instead of Baekhyun...” You trailed off at the end, thinking about how stupid you must look.

Jongin dropped his hands to your waist as he threw his head back in laughter before looking back at you. “No, you silly, we were talking about you. You told me you’d come to my first performance, remember?” Everything began to come together for you and you couldn’t believe that Jongin, the perfect man in front of you, had been talking about you to his members and that he likes you. Jongin saved you from further embarrassment when his hands trailed off your waist to find your own hands as he intertwined your fingers and pulled you closer “I’ve tried so many times to do this but I was always too scared of what would happen.” Your eyes locked with his gorgeous hazel masked ones that made it even harder to look away. “I really like you but I didn’t know if you liked me back which is why I never had the strength to ask you out. I was afraid of rejection, but at this point, I don’t think I have much else to lose with what Baekhyun hyung just did. It’s okay if you don’t like me back, I just want-”

As usual, you had to stop his endless rambling, but this time you did it with a quick kiss on his cheek. “I like you too, Jongin.”

Your eyes briefly met his before he enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug. His lips next to your ear, whispering the words he never thought he’d be able to say to you. “Will you be mine?”

“Only if you’ll be my boyfriend.”

He let you go only briefly so he could cup your cheeks and land a light kiss on your lips, both of your eyes fluttering closed, only to reopen suddenly at the sound of the other three members cheering from the doorway, all of them holding their phones up and recording the scene in front of them. You tried to pull away from Jongin but he only grabbed your waist and pulled you even closer.

“Jongin what are you-” you began, already having experienced enough embarrassment for a whole lifetime.

“Shhhh, just follow my lead,” he muttered before kissing you again “come on, just ‘groove’ with it” he said, between kisses, imitating your own words, igniting a fire in you as you remember teasing him with it during one of your most intimate practicing sessions together and you started kissing him back, moving your lips with his, much to the members’ disgust.

“Ewww” Sehun whined, right before Baekhyun and Chanyeol made simultaneous coughing and gagging sounds.

Hearing their reactions, Jongin’s lips finally left yours, a playful smile on his face before pulling you into another hug, this one full of warmth and affection. “Thank you y/n, thank you for giving me this chance. I’ll make you happy, I promise.”

You pulled back to face him, “thank you too, Jongin. Maybe it’s just our thing to ‘groove’ together” you said, bringing a finger up and playfully booping his nose.

He rolled his eyes at you before pushing your head back into his shoulder and letting you both enjoy the feeling of each other’s embrace, momentarily forgetting about the other three men standing in the doorway until they started making repulsive noises again.

A/N - This is the reworked version of ‘a dance to remember’ which I wrote when I was about 15 years old. That piece itself is based on a dream I had about EXO. This essentially is a fic written about a fic written about a dream so I’m sorry if it seems kinda disjointed. Any feedback at all is welcomed :)

#EXO fanfic #kai fanfic #exo kai fanfic #exo fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #exo scenarios #exo imagines #kai scenarios #kai imagine #kai fluff #exo kai scenario #exo kai fluff #exo kai imagine #fluff #exo #exo kai #exo jongin #exo kim jongin #jongin #kim jongin #groove

[russian-romanova]

enough said

title: enough said

pairing: jack kline

word count:  2K

warnings: adult language, me shaking my head at my life decisions as i write ‘lucifer was stunned’ and thinking about how normal people don’t write sentences like this.

notes: so, i had to repost this one because the text got deleted after i tried to edit a piece on my phone. guess i won’t be doing that again!

request: “Jack is dating the brother’s sister and only cas knew until sam and dean see them kiss and freak out? or lucifer as an actually good father giving jack advice on asking sam and dean’s sister on a date?”

summary: unsure of who to tell about his feelings for y/n, jack goes to his father for some advice. basically it’s a cheesy pile of wonderful shit :)

+   +   +

“Hey, can you pass me that book?” 

Jack looked up, met with your outstretched hand. You were focused down on the lore book in front of you, eyes gliding over words and pictures. You looked tired, Jack noted, but not in a way that made you look bad or anything. It just… was. “Which one?” 

You glanced up, meeting Jack’s eyes briefly before looking down at the pile in front of you. “That one,” You pointed. “The gold and green one.” The Nephilim scanned the books closest to him before picking up what he assumed was the book you were talking about. “Thank you,” You smiled at him as he passed it to you, your hands brushing. 

Jack’s gaze remained up as yours fell back to the lore, distracted by the thoughts rushing through your head. The small smile he always wore grew a little bigger as he watched you concentrate, eyes flicking between picture and paragraph, comparing previous knowledge with new information and storing that in your head. 

You turned the book from a page about vampires to a page about changelings. Jack didn’t really understand why he wanted to look at you for so long. He didn’t feel this way about Sam or Dean, despite being family and Jack looking up them. Of course, there were somethings he loved watching the brothers do, like when Dean fixed a part on the impala or when Sam got so into telling a story that he would act it out. But with you, Jack would watch you stare at a wall. 

He didn’t think he could tell Sam or Dean. Dean would probably laugh, and Sam would give him some sugar-coated explanation of the feeling, which was nice at times, but not when he wanted to get to the bottom of it so badly. Castiel would give him a version with condescending undertones, which was a word Jack wasn’t too familiar with yet but certainly had experience with the feeling.  

His mind searched for options as your head looked up at him. Without realizing why Jack looked back down the lore he was looking through as so to avoid eye contact with you. He didn’t understand why he acted the way he did around you, and he knew that he needed a professional opinion.

So of course, Jack excused himself and turned to google. 

Deciding what to search was hard. He had to words to put his feelings into, so he ended up searching ‘who do i talk to about a girl’ and clicking the magnifying glass. ‘How to talk to girls: 15 no bullshit tips’, read the first one, which was clearly not what Jack needed. He knew how to talk to girls, that was just dumb. It was just like talking to men, only Dean said you were supposed to be even nicer to women. 

The second and third, ‘How to Talk to a Girl: 9 tips to Get Her HOOKED’ and ‘34 Topics To Talk About With A Girl You Like’ weren’t much more helpful, either. By the time he was on page twelve of the google results, a half-hour had passed and Jack was no closer to finding out who to talk to about his unknown feelings.

From behind him, a familiar voice spoke up. “Whatcha lookin’ at, sport?” Jack didn’t even have to turn around to know that it was Lucifer, nor was he surprised by his popping up anymore.

Jack turned around. Perhaps the answer to his question had been in front of him this whole time. He closed his laptop. “Can I… talk to you about something?”

Lucifer was stunned for a moment but quickly regained himself. “Yeah, spill.” 

After examining the floor and gathering his thoughts, Jack began to speak. “I… Whenever I’m around Y/N I feel… strange.” 

“Like… barf strange or good strange?”

“Good strange. Really good strange. It’s like I’m…” Jack struggled for a moment. “It’s like I can’t breathe, but in a good way. I really want to look at her always, and whenever I’m around her I feel happy.” 

The words registered and Lucifer smiled. “Ooh, sounds like Jack’s got a little crush. I should have seen like goo-goo eyes from a mile away.” 

“None of those words made sense,” Jack answered honestly. 

“Right. Okay,” Lucifer sat down on the side of Jack’s bed, and he realized he felt more like a lecturing father than he probably ever would again. “So when you want to spend a lot of time with someone and just want to look at them and whatnot, usually it’s because you really like them. More than you like a friend, or more than you like Sam and Dean.” He furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of how to continue. 

Jack thought this over. “What about… what about the feeling? Is there a word?” 

Oh, that kid loved his words. “Yes, um,” Lucifer hesitated for a second. “Love.”

“Love? But I know what love is.” 

“Yeah, yeah, but this is a different love. Trust me, kid, alright? This is like, Han Solo and Leia, not Luke and Leia.” A Star Wars reference. Jack could understand that, right? 

The Nephilim thankfully nodded. “Okay.” 

There was a moment of silence before Lucifer spoke up. “So, are you gonna tell her?”

Jack was silent.

“Do you want my opinion? Just go for it. Tell her how you feel, or maybe don’t. Girls like it when you make the first move.” Lucifer shifted. “Just lean in and kiss her. You do know how to kiss, right?”

Jack hesitated. “I’ve… seen kissing.” 

“Good enough,” Lucifer stood up, walking over to Jack. “Just trust your gut. She already likes you, I’m 100% about that. Be confident, be you, and go get ‘em.” 

Jack nodded, frankly surprised. He didn’t think he would ever get this from Lucifer, especially not so sincerely. “Thank you,” The Nephilim offered genuinely, and Lucifer felt his heart swell at the words. He never really cared much for being a father, but then there would be moments like this that made it suddenly worth it. 

So Jack returned to find you still reading. You had added coffee and an empty plate to your stack of nearby items, so cluttered Jack wasn’t sure how you could even get to the books. “Hey, Jack,” You looked up and smiled, and Jack felt the feeling in his stomach return. “Where’ve you been?”

“In my room,” Jack answered, smiling. Thankfully, all you gave was a strange look before returning to your book. After considering his options for a moment, Jack decided to sit next to you rather than across from you. 

And then the need to stare returned and Jack felt his face grow warm. Your eyes moved slower now, taking in information that was entirely new and trying your hardest to remember it. You were concentrating, he knew because he recognized the look on your face. He had seen it a hundred times before, but it was evidently much lighter than before because you looked up to meet his gaze.

“What?” You chuckled, your own face blushing a little. 

Nerves took over Jack’s stomach, but he pushed through them and kept looking at you. Lucifer’s advice echoed in his ears, and he felt himself moving before he realized it. 

Gracefully and curiously, Jack leaned in towards you. Without having to even think, you met him halfway, your lips touching as if you had done it a million times before. It was short and sweet, but not at all awkward as you thought it might have been. 

You pulled yourself away to find Jack smiling even wider than you were. He was beaming like you had never seen him before. It was freeing and refreshing, and you almost felt like hugging him out of joy. 

“What the hell just happened?” A man’s voice came from out of your vision, and you jerked your head around to see Dean, holding two grocery bags and looking flabbergasted, and Sam, smiling and looking smug.

“Dean! Hello,” Jack began, holding his hand up in a wave. 

“Um, we can explain-” You interrupted, stumbling over your words and trying to speak above Jack’s voice. 

Sam chuckled a little. “You don’t have to explain. It took you two long enough.” 

You blinked once, twice, then looked to Dean. “Wait, really?”

Dean hesitated, still looking a little like he had walked in on his grandmother changing. “Yeah. Just- just keep it PG, okay?” 

Jack gave Dean a strange look. “Like… the movies?” 

“Yeah, no, we’re not gross,” You answered Dean quickly, waving your hands in denial.  “Also, we have basic human decency.” 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Congrats, kids.” He muttered in remaining confusion, raised a grocery bag to toast the two of you, and walked through the room to the kitchen.

“How’d either of you get up the guts?” Sam asked, crossing his arms. 

Jack smiled. “I asked my father.”

Sam hesitated. “You asked… Lucifer for dating advice?” 

“Yes.” Jack nodded a little. “I wasn’t sure what to think at first, but I guess he was right.” 

“I guess.” You shrugged. 

Sam looked between the two of you, smiling a little. “Okay. I’ll let you two get back to it.” This was something rare in the hunting life, something pure and meaningful. He never really had that, and he was beyond happy that the two of you had a shot at something like that, something normal. But now Jack and you did, and Sam was glad to know it was a chance going to the right people. 

#jack kline x reader #jack kline #jack #jack winchester #jack kline x y/n #jack kline x you #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam and dean #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #lucifer #lucifer x reader #:)

[gtunesmiff]

From Resolutions to Realities: Three Principles of Manifestation

By Marc Gilson

Did you know that people have been making New Year’s resolutions for at least 4,000 years?

At the beginning of each new year, the ancient Babylonians made promises to their gods to pay off debts and return borrowed items. (Which reminds me...I need to return my friend’s pressure washer!)

Whether or not you make resolutions each year, and whether or not you have specific and measurable goals, the laws of manifestation are at work around you, all the time. In fact…

...they are working for you–or against you–right now.

For the Babylonians, resolutions were a way to wipe the slate clean, refresh the page, and start the new year in good standing with the gods and, perhaps just as important, with the neighbors.

Today we make resolutions centered on improving our lot in life. We vow to lose weight, eat better, get more exercise, write that novel, spend less time on social media, and leave those pesky bad habits behind.

The problem with resolutions, of course, is that we usually fail to follow-through. According to some researchers, only 8% of us actually stick to our New Year’s resolutions. So if you happen to be a New Year’s Resolution, I’m afraid you don’t have much of a chance of being around for very long.

While well-intentioned, the tender blooms of our resolutions are easily overcome by the weeds of our own complacency and a lack of willpower. We know what we want to change, but it’s an uphill battle against our own bad habits or laziness.

How do we make good on our New Year's resolutions?

How do we follow-through and muster the willpower necessary to change our lives for the better?

The truth is that the success of our resolutions really depends on understanding that the very act of making a promise to ourselves is not only an act of intention, but a transaction with the laws of manifestation. In this context, manifestation means creating something that wasn’t there before. But…

...manifestation is not a magic trick. We manifest things all the time.

As a matter of fact, you’re really quite good at manifesting, whether you realize it or not. Look around and you’ll see evidence of your ability to manifest everywhere. Your job, your relationships, your financial situation, your health, and even the things you do and own—these are all the result of your own manifestation ability, at least in part.

Not that every single thing that has happened in your life is because you did something to cause it, although some would insist upon that. Putting talk of fate and destiny aside, there are things that happen that are simply outside of our control. We don’t live in a vacuum, after all. There are countless outside factors and influences that can nudge us (or sometimes shove us!) in this direction or that one.

But if you’ve made some resolutions for this year, and you’re serious about manifesting them, these three principles of manifestation will help you succeed.

1. Shelve the Shoulds

When I begin coaching with someone who is making New Years’ resolutions, the first thing we do together is sort out the “shoulds” from the “wants.” There’s a difference. A “should” is, no surprise, something you think you should do. It’s something on your “to do” list that really “should be done.” You really should quit smoking, lose some weight, or get more sleep.

But unless you also want to do those things, you will probably have a hard go of it.

Why is that? Shoulds tend to be based on aversive thinking, which means they’re focused on what you’re trying to avoid. Why do you want to quit smoking? Well, smoking is bad for you and can lead to all kinds of health problems. So if you smoke, you already know you should quit. But that alone is usually not enough to compel smokers to quit.

The same goes for things like drinking, watching too much TV, overeating, or any other activity that keeps us from being happier and healthier.

You can’t “should” your way to change.

When we try to derive our motivation to change based on the “shoulds” we’re not focused on the benefits of living in a way other than the way we live now. Instead, we’re focused on a bunch of dark and unpleasant things we are trying to avoid. And when you stop and think about it, most of those bad habits we want to quit are done in order to keep us distracted from dark and unpleasant things.

Perhaps you can see the irony here.

Shelve the shoulds. Shoulds won’t help you no matter how valid they are. Instead, begin your resolutions with wants. If you really want to see some change, ask yourself this question: “What is my heart’s desire?” Nevermind what you should or should not be doing. What’s really in your heart when it comes to change? Would you like to be someone with a healthy body and mind? What if that was possible for you?

Take a moment to vividly imagine that kind of life. What if there were things you could do–simple actions, repeated over time–that could give you that kind of life?

Let the power of that vision fuel your focus and actions.

Can you shelve your shoulds? Can you imagine a life that lives up to your hopes and dreams? It’s possible. It just takes the right kind of focus and a little effort. Which leads us to the second principle.

2. The Universe Rewards Action

Small deeds done are greater than great deeds planned. ~Peter Marshall

There’s no getting around it: nothing will change the way you want it to without you doing something about it. And this is where things get a little difficult, right? Good intentions are a dime a dozen. An idea without a plan of action is just a fantasy.

To manifest–to bring something tangible into existence–we need to act.

We are living in a world of cause and effect. What many don’t realize is that the key to manifesting is to live at the “cause” end of the cause-and-effect spectrum. That’s not easy. Effects, as we know, flow from causes. So living at the “cause end” means living where the power is.

According to Henry David Thoreau, “the mass of men live lives of quiet desperation.” That quote is a powerful reminder that we can’t let complacency dictate the value of our lives.

Thoreau was warning us to stop living at the “effect” end of the spectrum—the end where we get stuck on what has happened to us, who has mistreated us, and all our reasons why we can’t succeed or thrive. Shifting from the effect to the cause end means taking some responsibility for our lives and taking actions that will move us in the chosen direction. And it’s worth reminding ourselves that the treasure chest of…

...real self-empowerment is unlocked only with the key of personal responsibility.

This is a subtle but important point. It’s very tempting to live as a victim of circumstance. In fact, our society entices us to do just that by rewarding the dramatic victimhood that dominates our attention like a drug. This need not be our lot in life. When we show a willingness to take responsibility and recognize our role as the primary cause of the experiences we have in life, whether or not we directly caused it…

...we find ourselves free to act in the most powerful of ways.

The wonderful and mysterious thing about this idea is that when we do act–when we begin living at the cause end of the spectrum–the universe responds to help us. Whether this is a cosmic or spiritual phenomenon or simply the result of our own mental focus can be debated.

Either way, if we want to change, we have to be willing to act and to apply the efforts of our dreams, wishes, and intentions in a way that is in alignment with our wants (not our shoulds), even if on a small scale.

Small steps are still steps.

Small steps, when added up over time, are what often create the greatest change.

3. The Universe Also Rewards Patience

While we know we must take action in order to see positive change in our lives, we must also balance that action with a healthy dose of patience. It’s easy to be impatient when it comes to change. We want it now! But high-value, core-level changes take time.

In Taoism, there is the idea of Wu Wei (which I’ve written about before). Wu Wei isn’t easy to translate but it’s basically the idea of “non action” or “effortlessness.” In other words, patience.

Wu Wei doesn’t mean being lazy or slothful…

...(no offense to sloths!). It simply means being calm and still enough to detect the natural flow of the energies around us. These energies can work to our advantage...if we get out of their way a little bit.

The best way I know of to cultivate patience and awareness of the flow around us is meditation.

Taoism holds that the universe unfolds just as it should and will, and that we complicate matters for ourselves when we try to force it to do otherwise. The rains will fall, the winds will blow, and the river will flow. Whether or not we’re prepared is irrelevant.

So we might as well get on board and join the flow.

Wu Wei reminds us that sometimes the best way to get things done is to be patient and tune our senses to the currents of momentum already flowing through and around us.

I can’t think of a better way to emphasize this point than with a quote from one of my personal spiritual mentors—a man who passed away only a few weeks ago, but who left behind a powerful legacy of wisdom, love, and humor.

Let the natural flow of the universe course through your being, and harmonize your soul.~Ram Dass

What’s on your agenda to accomplish in 2021? Now you know the formula to success:

Focus + Action + Patience = Results.

[endlessfangirlao3]

Why I like Gen

@assagirigen on twitter dared me so-

Gen Asagiri is an interesting person.

 When we first meet him he shows himself as a shallow man who wants nothing more than to be on the winning side. Does matter to him which side wins he just wants to be on that side. The reader already knows about Tsukasa and his plan at this point. We know he is killing older people and only letting the young live, so to hear Gen say he doesn’t care about that and saying he was leaning more to Tsukasa. was a great way of showing how shallow he can be. All though I don’t think he is as shallow as he claimed.

 Right after he says all of this he saves Senkuu from being killed by Magma. At this point Gen only heard claims of what Senkuu could do and has no proof for himself. Gen’s mission was to make sure Senkuu was dead so if Gen stepped aside and let Magma kill him Gen would be done with his mission, but no Gen stands up to one of the strongest people in the village with only flowers. The moment Gen saw electricity in the stone world his thoughts of a harem were totally outweighed. (Literally. Chapter 24 last page) If Gen really was on Tsukasa’s side his harem would be more important to him, but Gen isn’t and even praises Senkuu saying “Y..You can’t be serious Senkuu!! In this completely empty stone world starting from zero! I can’t believe you really did it..”. At this point Gen has proof of Senkuu’s genius, but he still knows being in the Kingdom of science meant manual labor. Something he was not about. Still, he helped Senkuu by convincing Kinro and Girno to help with the generator. I think the moment Gen saw the light bulb he knew Senkuu could 100% bring back the old world.

In chapter 26 we see a flashback Tsukasa depetrified Gen. The moment Tsukasa says he killed a man (That at this point Gen had no idea who) Gen looks suspicious of Tsukasa. 

In the same chapter we see the group talk about Gen and asking if he is a good guy. Chrome even asks if Gen is listening trying to rile him up. Gen blows off the statements from Chrome saying he is a silver tongue mentalist and he doesn’t care, but us the reader already know where his loyalties are. Even part of his name means loyalty. Asagiri, Giri (ぎり) being loyal/ duty. Gen walks over to the generator and runs his hand over it foundly. Even after Gen got stabbed and almost died by Magma he was still loyal to Senkuu and the kingdom of science. We find out that he used blood bags and that dulled some of the blows but it still left Gen hurt. One thing I want to point out quickly is when did Gen back the blood bags? You could say before he got to the village, but he didn’t know he would be attacked there. He was so confident in his flower trick why would he need blood bags? I think Gen knew he had to get away from Tsukasa because it wasn’t safe there. In chapter 50 we see another flashback where Gen thinks “It’ll be hard to break through with just eloquent words” when he looks at the blissfully happy people in the empire of might. Gen was planning to leave/ stop Tsukasa but he couldn’t do it alone. So what he said before was just a lie to see what Senkuu could do and if Gen was truly safe if he joined the kingdom of science. Gen heard what Kohaku said about if he didn’t go back to tell Tsukasa Senkuu was Dead Tsukasa was suely going to find out. Gen could have asked a lot of Senkuu seeing how smart he was, but no he just just asked for a cola.

The next morning Gen, still recovering, ran up a mountain to the empire of might. He makes it there and is clearly out of breath but waste no time telling Tsukasa that Senkuu was dead. In short Gen in that moment laced his fate with the Kingdom of science. If they went down so did he. Even adding “Without a shadow of a doubt”.

We don’t see Gen again for quite a bit of time but the next time we see him he says that “I need the kingdom of science to win this too,” He knows he had tied his fate with the Kingdom of science. He frames it like it is all for Cola but a few pages later Gen says “heh well, I don’t exactly think he is that nice of a person” When Gen finds the carbonic acid. Gen didn’t actually think Senkuu was going to make him a cola. When Gen walks back to the lab and sees the cola he is surprised too and the smile he had on his face while drinking the cola too says a lot about how this isn’t something he expected but an unexpected gift.

Gen is still a double agent in chapter 45 when he informs Senkuu that Tsukasa’s armies are coming. He still acts like he is just a shallow person but when Gen says that he is sweating and his scar is a bit beant. Gen puts himself in harm's way again By telling Hyoga goons that he is going to be a spy in the village. When Hyoga shows up Gen picks up on Senkuu’s plan and manipulates Magma into doing what Gen asks of him. Gen used his knowledge of Magma and his wants to help Senkuu. Gen made it look like the village had guns and forced Hyoga to retreat. Gen knows that will make the prideful idiots pissed off that they lost and they will want revenge as quick as possible so Gen brings up attacking during a storm. Gen leaves small trail flowers and makes small cuts into Hyoga’s spear with the hope that it will help save someone. Gen knows damn well how strong Hyoga is but he still risks his life making those cuts and leaving a trail. Gen has 100% of confidence In Senkuu and the kingdom of science and so officially sides with them. Even with a seemingly impossible goal of a phone Gen still gets the villages on Senkuu’s side and they help with the telephone.

Once Gen officially joins the kingdom of science we see him enjoying himself and actually smiling a lot more. He goes along with a meme, appreciates a christmas tree, and  he even does a little song while making batteries. (adorable). I also noticed that part of Gen’s manipulation is through his hand movements so when he is relaxed he hides his hands. (he does it a lot)

Chapter 54, Senkuu is visibly more stressed and then Gen notices he looks a bit sad. (excuse me fangirling) What does Gen do? Leave it be and let Senkuu be stressed? NOPE! He gets Senkuu up to watch the first sunrise of the new year. He even says “Changing the mood and refreshing one’s spirits… that is my job isn’t it?” Gen didn't say everyone. He said one’s like he knows Senkuu is worried and wants to help him relax a bit.

When Gen sees that Magma is clearlying going to try and kill Senkuu, Gen tells Mamga a quick story and saves both Chrome and Senkuu. I am guessing he told the same story to the village and convinced them to help with an observatory for Senkuu’s birthday. Did Gen have to do this? No. It didn’t do anything besides just make work for him (I swear this is not going to be a Sengen rant). The pleased face Gen has looking at Senkuu just says everything.

Not saying Gen isn’t still a manipulative person who will lie to get to his goals but it’s not really his goals anymore. It’s the goals of the kingdom of science Gen is now lying for. Even with his beyond crazy plan of tricking the Empire of might into thinking Lillian is still alive he knows that it’s wrong morally but that doesn’t matter. It will help take Tsukasa and Hyoga down. Gen was fully ready to be hated and hunted down by the others for lying but as long as they can save everyone that doesn’t matter.

Chapter 64,

Gen is with Chrome and Magma when they find the people that are going to be depetrified. Magma brings up just killing them and how that would just be the easiest thing. Gen’s logical side agrees and he says breaking them would be for the best, but right before Magma can smash the man Gen thinks about how the statue isn’t just a sauce but a human with a family, memories, and loved ones that would miss him. Gen stops Magma and says that they have done nothing wrong. “Even for a realist like me.. When the time comes that we take direct action we’re really weak aren’t we~? So weak…” Even though it would be the easiest plan Gen can’t bring himself to let people be killed.

Skipping the treasure arccc! I refuse.

American arc!

Last one alright. Gen is captured by Stan and is questioned about the leader of the ship. Gen being the master liar says it’s Taiju. Gen even apologized to Taiju for doing that to him. Gen knows he is in a lot of danger. This isn’t science v raw brute force anymore. This was science v science but still Gen remains loyal to Senkuu and buys him time.

Gen is full of cheap tricks he uses for the kingdom of science. While yes Gen is manipulative he uses it for good which I like. He could use it for his own gain but he never really uses his knowagle against people for his gain. Gen knows he is manipulative and is honest with himself about it. He was willing to take on the hate of others just to save other people. That’s why I love Gen Asagiri. (Also he’s design is great)

#dr. stone #drst #dr stone #gen asagiri #asagiri gen

[rokutouxei]

the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 15 OF 22

So every day I was surrounded by the beautiful crying forth of the ideas of God,

one of which was you.

- "So every day", Mary Oliver

--

The new year enters restlessly.

January is generally a busy time for the university—the long holiday break at the end of the year translating to a refreshed, pinpointed focus. The Office of Student Relations resumes its scholarship selection process as soon as the offices reopen. Official enrolment to the university begins in early January. Classes begin in the second week.

Theo registers for the last class he’ll have to take before he can do this thesis—and that matched with the exhibit slowly coming into shape, it feels like the beginning of something ending.

And he’s running right for it.

Theo had a dream, once. Maybe not the kind that she would have expected when she asked him, but a dream nonetheless. He’d always looked up to his brother’s art from when he was younger, long before they thought of university or exhibits or the future. A seed of a dream had grown in him for the longest time—a gallery of artists, a collection of art that make the world shine just a little brighter by simply existing. Every week, every month, every year, something new—always something else given out to the world.

A childhood dream that no longer holds the same glimmer as it did when he was seven years old but—still the same one that lives inside of him if he listens hard enough. The one that led him here.

The one he knows but refuses to bring to light, to give a name.

But it’s here, still.

No matter how hard he denies it.

He used to tease her for being relentless about going abroad, but now that it’s his eyes that are set on something, there’s an inexorable hum thrumming underneath Theo’s plain old daily. This semester, his only classes are on Thursdays. He spends the rest of the week in the bookstore as he always does but—he is preoccupied. Spends afternoons when the bookshop is a little quieter going through his phone looking at potential art space and galleries. Reaches out to his professors when he was taking his specialization classes in museology, art curatorship, and art history, to see if they have any suggestions for where to hold Vincent’s exhibit. And at night, he works with Vincent, stares at the paintings, going through the old ones, looking through the brainstorming notes between him and her, of course, the other artistic brain working alongside them.

All art and wild wonder.

Theo writes pitches. Drafts them with Vincent, pours their hearts into it, revises them, rewrites them, shows them to her, throws them away—and then, when they’re just right, sends them. To every viable email, to every possible lead. Theo has a vision; one that used to be through a curtain of fog, but now clear like the summer sky. Now that the paintings are drying along the studio’s walls, he feels like the impossible is so close to his reach. Even Vincent, who is usually a little more reserved about reaching out with his art, has managed to gather up some courage to talk to some professors, by emails, visiting during consultation hours on his day off.

It’s happening, Theo thinks.

This is really happening.

He won’t tell it to her face, but her company is both needed and appreciated as they maneuver through the process of setting it up. The first half of spring is a blur only punctuated by dinners spent with her, Thursday evenings after classes talking with Vincent, sometimes with takeout boxes sitting in the studio, sometimes out of the house for a breath of fresh air. Theo walks around the topics with a nervousness that only goes away when she is there to mediate. He feels safer when she is there. And so does Vincent.

Theo doesn’t know when he’d started to miss her the way he does now. It was as if he had woken up one day missing the sound of her laughter, the loops of even her craziest insights.

Like the way raindrops continually falling can dig a curve into the sturdiest rock, Theo leans into her with an ease he wishes he does not understand.

He does not know if she knows.

At this point he thinks, it doesn’t matter if she does, because what matters is not what his wants, but hers.

He does not want to be another anchor tying her down.

So instead, he does what he does best with her: talk about books. The time they can spend together on their little dialogues have lessened dramatically, what with unmatching schedules, but they still exchange books; what they lack in time now they have in connection. The slide of a new book is enough to prompt the other; a reference to a previous read dropped into conversation and a nod to each other’s direction. Sneaking what little discussions in the 20 minutes it takes to walk her home. Phone calls when the opportunity—and patience—provides.

This is enough.

One afternoon, he and Arthur are at the bookshop. Theo has his head down on the counter, the book she lent open to one side, while he composes a response to an email on his phone. A potential gallery space responded to him, saying they were open to giving Vincent a discount.

“Nice to see life in your eyes,” Arthur comments, as he returns from shelving the canceled book orders. “I’m impressed.”

“Not flattering considering you don’t take anything seriously,” Theo quips. Arthur crosses his arms over his chest.

“You should really grant yourself at least a little bit of that energy.” It’s friendly advice, but arguably so grating coming from Arthur—who spends too much of his energy on his little whims.

Theo doesn’t even blink when he answers, “My brother is the only one who deserves my energy like this.”

To which Arthur says, tone joking: “And? What about our little miss?”

Theo doesn’t quip his denial fast enough for it to be entirely believable.

--

The visits to the van Gogh house are scheduled for Thursdays now, after Theo’s classes. Vincent somehow always makes it seem like her presence there gives so much, but really, she only comes to check in on him and see how the pieces are going. Sometimes, they talk about the exhibit’s flow and how one piece can continue the narrative into another. Over the past few weeks, they’ve built a sturdy collection of possible paintings with leading storylines. The exhibit is going along smoothly.

At first, she had some apprehension that Theo would not appreciate her being there often, as being with his brother and being at their house once a week is a little different from their practiced usual at hiding at the Rooftop with only each other—but Theo had softened in the few weeks they’d been jointly working at the exhibit, much to her relief. He buys her iced coffee, the kind she likes; gets her pastries, getting her favorites right; and for most of the time, he’s an angel compared to how he used to be toward her.

She figures it’s because Vincent is there.

It doesn’t take long, however, for her to see a growing imbalance in their little workflow. It doesn’t take long for Theo to try to carry all that can be sorted out on his own.

Vincent pulls you aside one evening, as Theo heads to the kitchen to get you some juice, saying, “I’m worried about Theo.”

He doesn’t need to expound for you to figure out what he means. It’s not that Theo has been sluggish, but it’s easy to see the exhaustion seeping under him, the whirr of stress and anxiety going around his brain non-stop, keeping him up. Vincent mentions fitful sleep, if there is any sleep at all. The dark circles underneath Theo’s eyes might be enough to make a panda bow in shame.

“Is something going wrong?”

“Arguing out the space is taking a lot out of him,” Vincent explains. “You know how spring and summer is graduation season, and so a lot of exhibits are being held.”

“There’s no way no gallery is taking you, even downtown.”

“The current students in the department just have better funding,” he admits, sheepishly. It’s true—the students in the department get financial support for their final projects as part of the university budget. But each student only gets one. Vincent had already tried to set up an exhibit before—but it didn’t push through. The money has since then been spent on things like art supplies and basic necessities. “Besides, you know how the university is with prioritization.”

It’s true. Because of the large influx of students and the limited spaces both within the campus and the city downtown, the university has pretty stringent guidelines as to how to hold a proper exhibit. With all that added to the thing with finances and also building a strong pitch… there’s just so much talking to be done. “Theo’s a great persuader, though.”

“He is,” Vincent agrees. “But every time he misses a mark just a little, he blames himself.”

Which is very Theo-like to do.

Vincent turns to her with eyes filled with concern. “I know I’m already asking you for a lot, but… can you keep your eye on him, when you can? I’m just so worried about him, and you’re the only one I know who can look over him.”

Theo enters the room, all tired eyes and loose shirt and sweatpants, half-meant glaring: “Hondje. Not too close to broer.”

She puts out her tongue at him, but the rule stands: one does not say no to Vincent.

--

Between books and food, she figures food is the more useful option.

Her classes have a weird schedule, so it’s not every day, but whenever she can, she visits him at the bookstore to bring him food. Arthur mentioned to her—after much prodding and only after she promised to take him and Dazai out for dinner—that Theo had been skipping out on lunch break in exchange for sitting out at the back, so she decided food might be one thing she can do.

It’s not much—she usually catches herself eating in the cafeteria most days, because of her schedule—but when she does make her own meals, she makes a small portion for Theo too. Sandwiches, maybe some soup; pasta, or rice. She brings the same lunchbox she brought that day they were studying at the Little Owl. She doesn’t leave until she’s seen Theo eat.

“Missing me a little?” Theo teases, on the fourth or fifth day she’s randomly come in at Dragon’s Hoard with a lunchbox with a warm meal. It’s been around two weeks since Vincent asked her to keep an eye out for his little brother.

And it’s true, she does miss him a little, because their new schedule this semester has made it so that they could no longer meet on the weekends like they did last time—she has internship work on the weekends for a publishing company—but she’d rather be shot than admit that yet. “No, I just can’t say no to Vincent.”

He hums as he takes a bite out of the small meatball she’d made for their little pasta lunch. Bolognese—her own recipe. “How is the application?”

“Hell,” she says, sighing, as she turns to her box of food. “They added an extra step in, so there’s one more test, and then the final round of interviews. I get that it’s an expensive scholarship but geez…” She shakes her head. “How’s the looking for a space?

“At least five potential places right now,” he answers. When he does, he looks down back at the lunchbox to twirl a forkful of spaghetti. She takes the time to observe the blue of his eyes. “Three is a little more expensive than expected, and two can hold it but with an interruption in the middle of the run.”

And then, quiet. The same kind of quiet they’ve always nurtured between each other, the one where they both get to just let go.

It would be a lie for them not to admit to each other the feeling of hollowness, the one you feel when you’re wrung dry, the not-quite-burnout-yet-but-getting-there exhaustion of just coming at the world, daring it to shoot you down. But at the same time, admitting it feels like some sort of defeat too. They are great at the strategy of not acknowledging the monster that is there, to not give it the power it wishes it wields over them.

What matters is that—even if it is unsaid—they have each other’s backs, and—

Even just that is already enough.

--

[ 01:37 | coolest person on the planet ] theo u asleep?

[ 01:38 ] when did you change your contact name?

[ 01:38 ] and why are you still up?

[ 01:38 | coolest person on the planet ] readings… just wanted 2 check on u

No response.

[ 01:39 | coolest person on the planet ] i’m sleepy

[ 01:40 ] I’m okay. Go to bed.

[ 01:40 | coolest person on the planet ] hav u even slept this past week?

[ 01:41 ] yes

[ 01:41 | coolest person on the planet ] how many hours

Pause.

[ 01:42 ] 8

[ 01:42 | coolest person on the planet ] …

[ 01:43 | coolest person on the planet ] total or per day

Pause.

[ 01:45 ] Did Vincent put you up to this?

Pause.

[ 01:46 | coolest person on the planet ] u shd take care of urself a lil bit more

[ 01:47 ] and yet we’re both up.

Pause.

[ 01:48 | coolest person on the planet ] i mean it

[ 01:48 | coolest person on the planet ] im ur friend ur my friend

[ 01:48 | coolest person on the planet ] let’s worry abt each other

[ 01:48 | coolest person on the planet ] make sure wr both ok, ok?

He sighs, but the smile creeps up his face anyway.

Closes his laptop, goes to the bathroom to wash his face and—

[ 01:50 | coolest person on the planet ] gnight theo

[ 01:50 | coolest person on the planet ] c u tmrw!

Crawls into bed.

[ 01:51 ] goodnight

#the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo

[athina-blaine]

Martin and Jon go to the beach.

Chapters: 1/1 [Complete]

Words: 1,561

Tags: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Strawberry Kiss FunTime Delights, the problem with peanut butter and jelly

~

Martin dumped his bags on the motel bed and threw his hands in the air.

“We made it!”

Jon followed suit, tossing his bags down with less, but not entirely absent, gusto. Martin zipped open one of the front pockets and grabbed a bottle of sunscreen, squeezing a dollop onto his palm.

“Let’s put on a second layer before we go out.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little excessive?”

“You think I put up with all the crap at the Institute just to have you die of skin cancer now?”

Jon sighed, but allowed Martin to smear the oily sunscreen onto his face, screwing his eyes shut. It smelled just as terrible as the last time.

“I’m not even going in the water.”

“What?” Martin whined, plaintive. He made a gesture with his hand. “Arms up.”

Biting back the urge to complain, because, really, Martin was just trying to be practical, Jon held up his arms at his sides, and Martin kept working.

 “I thought you were just kidding,” Martin continued. “Who goes to the beach and doesn’t even swim?”

“There’s plenty of things to do besides swim.” Jon reached into his bag and pulled out Black Waters of Melancholy: Dark Poetry. “Reading a book, for instance.”

“Oh, good choice.” He dropped a kiss on Jon’s mouth. “You’re still a nerd.”

“I am not.”

“I'm dating a bookworm goth of a nerd."

“You knew exactly what you were getting into.”

“Yeah.” Finishing up with Jon, Martin took the bottle and walked in the bathroom, starting on his own face. “Grab some more ice for the cooler and then we can head out.”

With each of them holding one end of the cooler, they scaled the sandy slopes for a long ten minutes before reaching the shoreline. The sun was blisteringly hot, and the blue sky stretched on for miles, a far cry from London’s grey gloominess. The day was lovely.

The beach, itself, was deserted, just like Jon Knew it would be. Bad memories involving a lonely stretch of beach aside, the privacy was greatly appreciated.

“I always knew putting up with all that spooky bullshit was good for something,” said Martin as he staked the large umbrella into the ground. “This place is gorgeous.”

“Only the town nearby is aware of it, really. Back in ’92, the body of a young woman had washed up on the shore and the investigation that followed cracked open a domestic sex ring. The locals have avoided it ever since.”

“Charming.” Martin kicked off his flip-flops and yanked his shirt over his head. “That water sure is looking refreshing, isn’t it?”

“Nice try.” Jon set out his towel and dropped down cross-legged, opening to the first page of his book. “You will not manipulate me with your wiles this day.”

“You’re the worst.” Sliding off his glasses, Martin folded them up and handed them to Jon. “Give me a shout if you need me.”

Jon only had a moment to appreciate the view before Martin was off. Martin paused only to shriek about how cold the water was before forging ahead and diving headfirst into the gentle waves. He re-emerged a second later, pushing his wet hair out of his face, and waved. Jon waved back.

He watched as Martin swum laps up and down the shoreline before remembering that, yes, he had that book he’d been wanting to read. He looked down at the first page and got started. Just when he thought he was making meaningful progress, however, he realized he still was just watching Martin play in the water.

It did look refreshing.

And it didn’t help that poetry was still the worst, no matter how many second chances Jon gave it.

Sighing, he closed the book with a thump. In the ocean, Martin was floating on his back, eyes closed.

Completely unaware of his surroundings.

Hmm.

Toeing off his sandals, Jon pushed himself up and crept towards the water. His cover was almost blown when the water lapped at his feet and he nearly shouted. Damn, that was cold. Bracing himself, he pressed onward, sinking until the water was just past the tips of his ears, and continuing his stealthy approach.

Jon was nearly a foot away when Martin sighed and rolled over with a splash. Their eyes met.

Martin opened his mouth, but Jon sprung forward, grabbing his shoulders, and plunging them both under the water, cutting off Martin's startled yelp.

“You bastard!” Martin cried out when they both came back up, clinging to Jon’s rash guard.

“I thought you wanted me to come in the water.”

“Yes, I wanted you to come in the water, not give me a heart attack.”

“You are so dramatic.” Smirking, Jon leaned in for a kiss, but Martin’s grip had suddenly tightened, and he shoved Jon under the surface. Jon gasped, too late, and he swallowed a mouthful of seawater. When he resurfaced, he coughed, hard enough for his chest to ache and his nose to burn.

“Oh, damn, sorry,” Martin said, slapping his back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Jon spat out a chunk of seaweed. “Probably deserved that.”

“Well. Only a little.” He grabbed Jon’s hand and tugged. “Come on, let’s race.”

Rolling his stinging eyes, Jon allowed himself to be pulled away.

They swam up and down the shoreline, until Jon barked at Martin to quit cheating. Martin asked how he could have possibly been cheating, to which Jon responded that his arms were longer. Martin suggested Jon try not being so short, which then resulted in their race looking more like a mad chase as Martin tried to avoid another drowning.

After that, Martin grabbed a squishy water ball from his bag, and they threw it at each other. Jon purposefully threw it just high enough so that Martin had to make wild leaps out of the water to try and catch it. This time, Martin accused Jon of cheating and chased him onto the beach and down the coastline.

Once they had run themselves to exhaustion, they sat down at the water’s edge, digging their toes in the squishy sand, and looked around for shells.

“Look at this,” Jon said, holding up a shell with red and white stripes curling around to the tip. He dropped it in Martin’s hand, who stroked it gently with his thumb.

“Wow, it’s so smooth.”

“That particular one is only a few days old. Razor clam, came from Cornwall. Was on its way to lunch when it was jumped by an octopus.”

“Rest in peace, clam,” said Martin, adding the shell to their small pile. “Your groovy fashion sense lives on.”

The sun had reached the middle of the sky when they both decided it was time for lunch.

“I’ve got your favourite,” Martin said in sing song, pulling a dewy bright pink glass bottle out of the cooler. On the label, it declared itself Strawberry Kiss FunTime™ Delights.

“Martin, you know I can’t stand those sugary drinks.”

“What I know is you’re crock full of shite.”

Martin handed over the drink and a sandwich and and kissed him. They both had dried off ages ago, but Jon could still taste the salt water on Martin’s lips.

Sitting on his own towel, Martin unwrapped the foil on his sandwich and took a bite. Jon, who had been responsible for making the sandwiches, watched.

“How is it? Is it good?”

“It’s good.” Martin paused to sip his blueberry drink, his tongue turning a dull blue. “Although, I have to say, it’s hard to mess up peanut butter and jelly.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Um, would I?”

“Of course. There’s so many different combinations to pick from. Peanut butter on both sides and jelly on one, or peanut butter on one side and jelly on the other, or maybe even both on both sides. That isn’t even getting into exact measurements and bread selection.”

“Wow.”

Jon huffed and bit into his own sandwich, chewing slowly. He thinks he’d gotten the jelly ratio correct, although the bread could stand to be a bit less dry.

Polishing off his sandwich, Martin stretched and collapsed onto his towel. “Well, I feel that we’ve earned a nap, don’t you?”

Much as Jon detested falling asleep in a place where at any moment a crab could emerge and pinch his toes, a comfortable, sluggish warmth was coursing through him, his eyelids growing heavy.

Finishing his drink, smacking his slightly pink lips (because dammit if it wasn’t delicious), he laid down. Martin curled up into his side, dropping his head on Jon’s shoulder. Jon shifted until he could rest a hand on Martin’s back, still sticky with seawater, rubbing in small circles with his knuckles.

“What d’you wanna do for dinner?” Martin murmured, voice low and lethargic. Jon dragged his eyes open, not remembering when he had closed them.

“Dunno,” he said, eyes sliding shut again. “Saw a diner on the way in. Looked nice. American or s’mthin.”

Martin mumbled something and Jon could only assume it was an agreement based on the tone. It was hard to tell at that point. He rolled his neck, placing a hand over Martin’s where it rested on his stomach and resting his head on Martin’s soft hair.

In the distance, the ocean’s waves rolled in and fell away. They both drifted off.

#the magnus archives #tma #themagnuspod #jonmartin #jonathon sims #martin blackwood #fic #fanfiction #my writing