when you’re a group of two where one is captain of the basketball team and the other is the weird genius student but you’ve finally embraced your true love for singing (and each other) and audition in the call-backs for the school winter musical after winning the basketball championships and the science decathlon, respectively.

here’s a close up or two:

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga 😈

this series will probably have more than one part because tumblr only lets me upload ten images per post </3

warning: there are disgustingly long paragraphs in here and delusions

chapter 32

utahime’s first introduction!  akutami lets us know right off the bat that she thinks gojo is an idiot (so true).

chapter 32

i love the contrast between miwa and utahime’s reaction to gojo’s appearance.  

chapter 33

NAH BC TELL ME WHY HE WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO NOT GET HER ONE LMAOOOO!!  when he traveled overseas to meet with yuta, he picked up the tribal protection charms and thought to himself, “let’s get enough for the kyoto students as a gift since i am such a great and caring teacher, after all.  mmm, i should skip utahime to make her mad~”  this guy puts way too much effort into getting on her nerves.  his mind = utahime brainrot

chapter 33

she’s laughing at him here because he’s getting disciplined for being a lil shit.  i wonder...what would he say if he saw her laughing at him like that?  

chapter 33

this interaction between them is a little strange don’t you think?   i feel like over the years he’s learned how to pick up her mood based on the way she’s acting towards him.  you’re probably thinking, “well any person can figure out how a person’s feeling based on the way they’re talking or acting.”  yes, that’s absolutely true, but it’s kind of different with this.  she’s acting normal.  utahime has a rather indifferent expression on her face and what she says is spoken in a calm tone, but gojo still asks her if she’s mad at him.  it’s likely that he knows her well enough to be able to notice these subtle things.  even if she wasn’t actually mad at him, he was being considerate for a split second, then he went and said, “of course.  i didn’t do anything wrong and all.”  what a guy LOLOL.  to me, this implies that maybe he made her genuinely angry in the past to the point where he realized that he went too far, and thus decided to be more careful of her feelings.  she has definitely gotten annoyed at him so many times after that so whenever she seems angry, he probably asks himself if he took it too far.  i’m curious to see if he can pick up if she’s upset with something that’s not involving him.  would he console her?  how does gojo satoru console someone?  

despite him always annoying her, she’s still courteous and brings him a cup of tea during their talk.  she didn’t have to go out of her way to get tea for him but she did.  that’s the kind of person utahime is.  a kind and caring woman who would never put her students in danger.  in the anime they were sitting far away and not facing each other like they’re doing in the manga.  she also has her own tea cup.  i think that little panel of her placing the cup down on the table and him picking it up to take a sip is a nice little detail.  it just proves that her hating him most of the time isn’t actually pure hatred but annoyance because of his shenanigans and teasing.

chapter 33

i touched upon this a little bit in my previous post, but i wish to go more in depth about this panel.  first of all, he ends the sentence with her name twice.  two times too many, mr. gojo.  i like how they can be serious with each other too LOL.  i wish we got to see them talk about the traitors because they did figure it out together after all.  does it always end in bickering?  can they interact with each other like adults all the way through?  somehow, i feel like that’s not possible when it comes to these two.  furthermore, notice how gojo confides in utahime about his suspicions.  from what we know, she is the first person he brought it up to.  i mean, i guess he has to start investigating the schools and would need extra assistance to save time, but he could have done it himself if he really wanted to.  by deciding to ask for her help we know that he thinks she’s trustworthy, smart, and strong enough to face whatever considerable risks this task may entail.  

i didn’t point this out in my other posts but see how he makes a hand sign in the last panel when she throws the cup at him?  gojo is manually activating his infinity.  why though?  about a year after the whole star plasma vessel incident happened, gojo develops the ability to keep his infinity up at all times by using the reversed curse technique to consistently heal himself to prevent exhaustion.  this means that it really makes no difference whether he leaves it on or off.  there are a few times where we can witness someone actually touching gojo.  for example, yuuji giving him a hug.  did he turn his infinity off, or was it able to deduce that yuuji was not a threat?  the erasers and pencils shoko and geto threw at him during his demonstration of his new ability aren’t dangerous normally, but is it the speed that makes them dangerous?  even if it did hit him, it wouldn’t hurt.  how does the infinity know when to allow an incoming object to touch gojo?  i believe it is up to gojo himself to let things touch him; his infinity restricts anything and anyone.  some people say it could just be the fact that water is not dangerous to him, so therefore, he has to manually put his infinity up.  i thought this was a reasonable explanation as to why he put up the hand sign when the tea was thrown at him, but then i realized that it couldn’t be.  remember the second opening?  it’s raining and everyone is carrying an umbrella, then it pans to gojo with a bouquet in his hand and rain drops slipping off his infinity.  if he DID manually put his infinity up to prevent getting soaked then that implies that he chose to turn his infinity off.  you can argue and say that jujutsu high is a safe place with students so there’s no need to have his infinity there, but do you remember when he stepped on the ants in front of gakuganji and yaga?  the ants were perfectly fine after which insinuates that his infinity prevented his shoes from crushing the ants.  he most likely had his infinity on during the baseball game even though he was in a safe environment.  how does this long tangent relate back to utahime?  well, it simply indicates that gojo trusts utahime so much to the point where he can be vulnerable around her.  turning off his infinity symbolizes completely letting down his guard  in a way.  

how about what happens next?  utahime throws the tea at him, he turns on his infinity to deflect it, and he responds with, “scary!  hysteric women aren’t popular, you know!”  why would he even say that LMAO??  utahime doesn’t even try to deny what he said either.  she just hits him with the good old, “i am your senpai!”  could it be that he’s trying to poke fun of her relationship status?  maybe, maybe not.  doesn’t he like people a lil crazy?  he did say that all jujutsu sorcerers have to be a little crazy because they’re willing to put themselves in danger constantly.  

chapter 0 p.1

i wonder who he’s thinking of when he said that.  could it be utahime?  it seems like he’s reminiscing or thinking about someone.  he wears an amused expression on his face as he laughs - almost like he’s seen his fair share of how scary women can get :>>

chapter 34

the pattern behind gojo and utahime is called yagasuri “fletching,” a traditional japanese design.  this design is inspired by arrow fletching.  it's a lucky charm for weddings and other celebrations since it's based on the Japanese belief that an arrow shot once never comes back.  brides were given kimonos with this pattern for good luck during the edo era (1603–1868) to ensure they would not have to return to their original family home.  this pattern can have numerous meanings such as steadfastness or determination to achieve a goal, or a wish for the happiness of the bride.  there is a belief that a bow and arrow represent the fight against evil.  honestly, this meaning fits the narrative of the story.  utahime and gojo are unearthing the traitors that are feeding intel to the curse users and cursed spirits.  they are in the middle while the kyoto students surround them, which could mean that it’s their job as adults to protect these children from the grasps of evil slowly making itself more prominent.  do you also notice that the arrows are pointed toward utahime from gojo?  from all the images i’ve seen, the arrows are usually pointed downward.  what could this mean?  is gojo trying to protect her (in the future (?)) or does he have a big fat crush smh...

i think it’s a good time to mention utahime’s clothing.  she’s wearing miko attire.  miko are shrine maidens who were once thought to be shamans (you connecting the dots?).  in their service to shrines, miko used to perform spirit possession and takusen (in which the possessed person acts as a "medium" (yorimashi) to communicate the divine will or message of that kami (god) or spirit; also included in the category of takusen is "dream revelation" (mukoku), in which a kami appears in a dream to communicate its will).  this was back in the old days, of course.  to become a miko back then (shaman), one needed to have potential.  neurosis, hallucinations, odd behavior, and hysteria (HYSTERIA HELLO???) are some of the signs that a person is being called to shamanism.  when a miko is communicating with a kami (god) or spirit by acting as a medium, she is in a trance-like state, and so she must learn techniques to control herself when this happens.  chanting and dancing were used to accomplish this, so the girl was taught melodies and intonations that were used in songs, prayers, and magical formulas.  all of this could give us insight about utahime’s technique and explains why she’s good at singing :)  maybe she can’t control herself when she uses her technique which is why she isn’t shown using it because it should be used for dire situations.  i imagine being possessed by a spirit or god must consume a lot of cursed energy.  it makes sense that utahime and gakuganji wear traditional clothing.  they’re the staff of jujutsu high’s kyoto branch.  in chapter 0, kyoto is known as the sacred land of jujutsu.  it’s more traditional compared to tokyo.  if you want to learn more about miko, you should check out the wikipedia page!  

chapter 34

i swear he tries to annoy her every chance he gets.  i bet he sets a goal for himself to see how many times utahime lectures him about respecting his seniors every time he’s within the same vicinity as her.  at least he called her utahime-sensei!!!

chapter 40

this isn’t even a gojohime moment tbh...i just wanted to share a pic of them sitting next to each other HEHE.  why are they sitting next to each other anyway?  it’s not like they have assigned seating.

----

that was so long and i apologize for the gargantuan paragraphs you guys had to read through.  i’m writing this at 4 in the morning and i’m feeling borderline delirious so i apologize if there are any errors.  i’ll edit this when i have time <3

the next part should come shortly.

Only at Night | c.sb

choi soobin x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7k

description: you and soobin live two separate lives, and need an escape. a silent agreement to live separate lives as soon as the sun rises.

warnings: none

note: something somewhat short, but sweet!

the clock never seems to stop ticking. the constant rhythm of each second from the clock was ringing through your head. it was never ending.

“just ignore it,” you mumble as your leg starts to bounce from underneath the table.

it was aggravating. you couldn’t focus and it was such a simple essay. you don’t get these easy topics anymore. at this point, you were convinced the question was mocking you.

where do you see yourself in the future?

this question had haunted you ever since highschool. through elementary and junior high... it was all fun and games. things weren’t so fun anymore. there was a constant pressure that you couldn’t ignore anymore. with your good grades, your parents expected that you’d be great as a doctor, but you knew it wasn’t all about the grades.

truth is... you are lost. you spent so long pretending to be someone else, trying to portray your family's ideals... that you lost track of what you enjoyed. so now... now you were stuck. you could only watch in envy as your classmates went on and on about their dream jobs... that were pretty realistic goals. some had known what they’ve wanted to be for their whole life, so why couldn’t you just decide?

without realizing it your shaking legs had become intense, the only thing snapping you out of your mind was the sound of the pencil breaking. your body relaxed after seeing how tense you were. with a deep sigh, you figured the only way to get this off of your chest was to go outside.

pushing yourself away from the desk you grabbed your jacket before rushing out of your room.

straight to the front door. no stopping.

you ignored your parents' attempts to ask where you were going. it didn’t matter anyway... you didn’t have an answer to give. as soon as the door closed you made a run for it. although the reason for this was because you wanted to go to your secret spot in peace, the thrill of running away and defying your parents was thrilling. you couldn’t help but think that this was what it’s like to live.

you heard so many stories about how your parents were basically delinquents. always partying, racing in the night, wrecking things, you name it. yet... because of this, it seems they never let you do anything thrilling. you understood how dangerous it could be and they didn’t want you to learn the lessons that they could just warn you about. as much as you tried to understand their reasoning... it just hurt even more. the point in life is to learn from your own mistakes.

pushing your thoughts away, you had let the wind overwhelm your senses. the chilling air felt amazing with the night sky above you. a smile crept up on your face as your shouting parents could no longer be heard. adrenaline was pumping through your veins and it felt so...exhilarating.

honestly, maybe you should run away from all your problems, it does a load of help. by the time you reached the hill behind a few closed buildings, you were out of breath. the adrenaline had probably worn off because you weren’t feeling as invincible.

your heavy breathing as you headed up the hill didn’t go unnoticed by the boy sitting at the top. he barely had to turn his head to figure that you weren’t a threat.

unlike the boy, you were pretty startled to see him laying there. you’ve never run into him before, so why now? then again you usually didn’t visit this place at night.

hesitated before turning around with your shoulders slouched. ‘i guess i could just go to the park.’

“you don’t have to leave, i was gonna head off soon anyways.” you heard his body shuffle against the grass, indicating his leave. you felt bad for making him leave early.

“no, it’s okay. you can stay... i shouldn’t be out anyway.” you turned to look at the boy just to make sure he wasn’t about to stab you or something along those lines.

when you met his eyes you swore your heart stopped. handsome was an understatement. he chuckled as he pulled his hood over his head and waved goodbye.

“w-wait!” you don’t know what enticed your body to stop him, but you didn’t mind it because it got him to stop walking.

he didn’t respond, allowing his stillness to answer for him. you could practically hear him say “what?”

“i don’t see why we both can’t just sit there. no need for either of us to leave right?” it was still silent causing your face to heat up from the embarrassment. “only if you want to of course.” you shouted... a little too loudly.

he finally turned around to look at you with his hands in his pockets.

“okay... sounds good to me.” he walked back up to the top of the hill to meet you. when he got closer you got a better look at him. his dark hair was covered by his hood, but you could see his soft features. his height didn’t go unnoticed.

after the two of you sat down, you tried minding your own business. the stars in the sky looked amazing and they reminded you of just how small your problems were... even so, they didn’t hurt any less.

“can i ask you something?” you turned your head to look at him, only to realize he was staring at the stars.

“go ahead.” you encouraged before looking back at the bright stars, trying to pick out which one was your favorite.

“why are you out here?” his question brought the silence back.

you debated whether or not to tell him. it’s not like it’s something all that bad, but you didn’t really know him... perhaps that’s the exact reason you should tell him. a stranger can’t spread the news to everyone you know.

“well... i had to get away. i just needed someplace to think without all the expectations...” you looked at him to see if you should continue, from his silence you assumed so, “i feel like i can be myself when i’m alone away from the world i know... away from the people i know. it’s impossible to feel free in a house that feels like a prison, so i thought the best way to think freely was to escape from the things holding me hostage.”

“that’s reason enough...” he finally looked at you instead of the stars. it was as if he was telling you that he acknowledged you as a whole, which was all you needed recently.

“how about you huh?” this time it was your turn to ask the question. it was only fair that he told you his reasoning.

he chuckled once more before looking at the grass, “it looks like we came here for the same reason. it’s an escape. my life tends to be a little upbeat... there’s never really a time to rest. i keep trying to live my life to its fullest at the cost of my future. it’s about time that i get my life on track and the only way i can think about this is when i’m here.”

you watched as he pulled at the grass. what he said... was kind of the life you wished you were living. maybe you could learn from each other... find the balance in the middle.

“fair enough.” you smiled as he met your eyes. at this moment there was a mutual understanding... mutual trust in some random stranger you just met.

the moment shattered right in front of you as soon as you heard your ringtone. you didn’t have to check to know that your parents were calling you.

“you should probably answer that.” he saw your hesitation and figured that it was indeed your parents. you felt as though this perfect moment was slowly deflating... and you were determined to keep it from doing so.

throwing away your hesitation, you committed to ignoring your parents. for once you didn’t think about the consequences and turned off your phone.

“not at all. this is me time right?” you shrugged as you put your phone back, letting your racing heart settle.

“i guess so...” he was silent. stuck in his thoughts. “maybe we could make this a ‘we’ thing. make it our time.” he suggested.

‘a, we thing’ your heart picked up its pace at his words. you wanted to seem confident. you wanted to get to know him better.

“should i know your name before this becomes a we thing?” you asked while attempting to smirk at him. the smirk didn’t seem to work because he fell over in laughter.

“...is it obvious i don’t flirt much?” you ask as you try to laugh it off as well.

he sat back up after taking a deep breath to calm himself. when he looked back at you his eyes were shining in the moonlight while he wore such a beautiful and true smile. “so very obvious, although at least you have the courage.”

“the courage?” you questioned. you’ve never considered yourself to be someone with courage.

“well...” he dragged on, “you did just admit to trying to flirt with me.”

your cheeks flushed immediately. his sly smirk caused you to look away because unlike you, he could, in fact, pull a smirk off.

“it’s soobin. my name’s soobin.”

soobin eh? easygoing and good-natured. fitting. you were just glad he changed the subject.

“well soobin it’s nice to meet you.” you made sure not to look at him again. perhaps you were trying to tease him by playing hard to get... or you were just admiring the beautiful stars.

“what’s your name?” he asked as he tried to subtly scoot closer to you.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” you laughed, “i’ll tell you when this becomes our thing.”

soobin groaned as he fell onto his back to stare at the sky.

“so what exactly is our thing?” you laid beside him trying to pick out the brightest stars to choose from. the stars always seem to act as a distraction.

“two strangers relying on each other in the peaceful night. only during the night, so that we know there’s someone that knows us solely on the absence of everyday life.”

it sounded like a miracle, a fantasy if you will. he’d be the one person that could get to know the real you... the free you, the one without all the expectations.

“that sounds perfect.”

and that’s how it started. never sharing a second glance at each other as soon as the sun would rise. from then on the friendship that blossomed would soon turn into something more.

chapter 31

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 1.26K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear |@mangminnie | @pixiekooo | @cana | @canarystwin

Opening the door to your apartment, you sigh.

It was a long day. The photoshoot lasted longer than you expected, and you didn't even get a chance to reprint your schedule. It was for the best though, you supposed. Namjoon didn't need you to do much of anything else besides assist him while he set up to get some work done.

Biting your bottom lip, you try not to feel guilty that you left him all alone. He said he needed no distractions, but you pray he doesn't pull an all-nighter. Knowing him, however...Glancing down at your phone, you wince at the week's schedule Mr. Sejin gave to you before leaving. He told you that getting a daily schedule would be tedious, and informed you that weekly schedules would be sent to you every Sunday.

As for this week...

They have hardly any free time, especially Namjoon. Filled to the brim with practices, photoshoots, and interviews...you can't imagine what it'd be like when promotions start. He really shouldn't be pulling all-nighters nowadays, he needs to rest now to prepare for the workload that will come his way.

You scoff.

Who are you kidding? Namjoon won't be likely to do that. He's the type to pour out every last of his waking spirit into his work. Even if you did go back to help, you'd probably be in the way. Not to mention the fact he wouldn't listen to a word you say.

Shaking your head, you wonder if your mother felt the same way when she was raising you.

Studying all night, practicing until your voice was sore or you couldn't dance anymore, pushing yourself to the very limit, preparing for your dream...

Swallowing hard, you push the thought out of your mind.

You don't have time for guilt.

Slipping out of your shoes, you advance, locking the door tightly behind you. In the corner of your mind, you wonder if Sunoh is sleeping already. Glancing at the clock, you roll your eyes. If he wasn't, he'd be crazy.

3 am already?

Reminds you of the times you would write till the wee hours of the morning. Creating countless stories and adventures, different worlds and different people, trying to find a way to escape when you had nowhere else to run. When was the last time you were inspired to even pick up a pencil much less write?

"I hate being alone." You murmur, rubbing your face. "I always think too much."

Setting your satchel on the counter island, you empty its contents and come across the contract. Freezing, you slowly pull it out and stare at it.

This is your dream.

So why are you hesitating?

Taking it to the table, you pull out a chair and carefully set it down.

It couldn't hurt to read through, could it?

You wonder why you are so afraid. What he did wasn't even something to be worried about. But when the one you cherish the most tells you you'll never make it, that you aren't talented enough...

He heard your voice and called it mediocre, amateur, and told you to find a new dream. Told you to give up on something you would never succeed at. Told you everything you worked so hard for was worthless. It was unrealistic, it wasn't worth trying.

You'd never make it anyway.

You weren't nearly as pretty enough to fit their standards.

You weren't perfect enough to pass their expectations.

You weren't made for the dream, so you shouldn't be given the chance to achieve them.

Groaning, you try to swallow the lump in your throat, you try to ignore everything you wish to hold back, but you can't.

How?

How could they see that you were worth something?

Obviously, you aren't worth that much, obviously, you aren't that special...

"Why are you hesitating?"

Remembering what Suga said, you wonder at the question yourself.

This is supposed to be your dream, you are supposed to hold onto it no matter what others tell you. No matter what people may think. It's something that's made to be eternal, that won't give up as long as you don't give up either.

Are you afraid?

"Yes. I'm terrified."

But why are you terrified? Why can't you forget the past?

"What if he's right? What if I'm not cut out for this?"

So are you afraid of what others think?

"No."

Then what is it?

You think of everyone who is counting on you, their high expectations. What they are risking for you. You think of the people who came before you, how hard they tried for this chance, just so they can achieve a dream they may never get. You think of your mother, who lost the very same dream and could never achieve it.

What is holding you back?

"What if I let them down?" you whisper softly, as a tear finally escapes its blockade and lands on the very same contract you've been holding in your hands.

You've dreamed of this. Receiving your first contract and signing with a company, ready to become a trainee, ready to be the singer; the performer you've always wanted. You've imagined the scenario in your head, acted it out many times over and over again. This was supposed to be a happy moment, the moment when all your hard work meant something. The moment when you finally took the next step towards your goal.

Inwardly, you want to scream in joy. You want to cry from happiness. But that fear, that blockade of terror, that is the one thing that holds you back.

What if when you finally let go, when you allow yourself to be happy again, it's ruined?

I gave everything to you.

"Shut up."

But you threw it away.

"Stop."

And for what? A dream that will never find its way out of your head?

"You're not here."

It's worthless hoping for something that can never happen.

"You don't know that."

Do you want to be worthless?

"You don't get to dictate my life."

Biting your lip, turn the final page of the contract, and find the dotted line. A line that will sign your life away. A line that holds every dream, every wish, every hope you've gathered in your small wish to be an idol. To sing on the stage, to perform and touch the world with your music.

Your world.

Finding a pen amongst the confines of your satchel, you put the tip gently to the paper and sign your name.

You smile once you do, and hold your hands to your face.

Letting out a small shriek, you let your excitement take control of your body and you allow the euphoric feeling of happiness to spread throughout you. You push back the feelings of doubt, the paralyzing helplessness of terror. For now, that doesn't matter. At this moment, those feelings aren't important.

Who cares about what's to happen in the future?

Would you rather be held back because of things you can't control?

No, this is your choice. This is your life.

You make the choice, no one else can make it for you.

At the harsh ringer of the phone, you jump. Startled, you turn to it from where it sits on the counter and check the caller ID.

One step at a time right?

That's all it takes to be okay again.

To move on.

Maybe it's time you talked to her.

Setting the pen down, you pick up your phone, taking a deep breath before accepting the call.

"Hi, Mom."

she finally called her mom! question, on a scale of 1-10 how angry would your guys' mom be if you ghosted her for this long? 0.o cuz mine would disown me for the longest time.

chapter 32 here

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01. lee minho / 9486 words

fwb!minho, oral (f & m receiving), unprotexted sex, female reader, slight angst and fluff, romance, lots of kissing, mc being kind of a brat, minho being kinda dominant 

a/n: ahh, i finally wrote for minho! i hope this is good ;;

the thee bags of sugar you poured into your cup of hot coffee have probably been completely dissolved by now, considering the obsessive way you kept stirring the liquid with your teaspoon and not actually drinking it.

keeping your eyes out the glass window by the coffee booth, you allowed your mind to drift off to a familiarly foreign place as you mindlessly watched the passersby.

your lashes fluttered along with each shift of your eyes, your gaze jumping from one insignificant person to another as you accessed the idea that people are literally everywhere around you—annoying kids, depressed students, tired parents, and the slow folks.

the concept, more than often, flies past you on a daily. therefore, when you sit down and truly acknowledge the number of people you brush past every day, it is quite a staggering fact.

but what’s more bewildering than that, though, was the fact that out of all these people you could meet and think about, the only person who has ever really been on your mind was lee minho—a nice classmate, a good friend, and a few quick fucks.

a few. you heaved a lonesome sigh and replaced it with a bitter huff of laughter.

you wished it was only a few quick fucks. you should have stopped after a few of them and you should have never picked your hand up and sealed his ‘fuck buddy?’ deal with a firm handshake. but you were lonely back then, dry and lonely.

you had wanted love, genuine or not, and minho’s seductive kisses down your body were the closest thing you could get to feeling appreciated, so you made the biggest mistake of agreeing to be friends with benefits with him.

it has been half a year since you two established the relationship; the sex was frequent during the first few weeks, and then the passionate nights started to space out a little until you two spent more time with plans to hang out than to fuck each other.

your immature mind hadn’t been smart enough to fathom the idea of you ever falling in love with somebody like minho, because you knew you weren’t the type to blatantly fall for someone out of your league. it was the kick that got your to seal the contract.

but alas, minho has been more than irresistible the past few months.

he wasn’t just a fuck buddy, he has never been just that from the start of it all. nothing about your new relationship was awkward despite you two being silent classmates for so long until a house party came and messed it all up. and unlike what you expected, he never tried to distance himself to keep that sole status.

he wasn’t aloof, nor did he act like a stranger. minho was a good friend, a good classmate, and a good fuck if you may say so.

he has helped you with your classes numerous times; printing assignments last minute for you in the library because you were too sleepy to do so last night, scanning his thorough notes for you unprompted because he noticed you struggling during class, reading through your materials out of his class time just so he could further explain something to you.

he’s also been the best emotional support you’ve had; he has never complained when you unreasonably snapped at him because of too much stress, he puts up with your constant overthinking and temper tantrums, and he gets you snacks on his own grocery run because he thought you might get some cravings sometime during the day.

and, of course, the sex has never once been dull ever since you met him, but it was in a lot of the little things he does that makes your heart ache the most; it was him always making sure you’re okay, and him constantly giving you praises. how he loves to make eye contact and hold your hands. how he knows exactly when to be soft and when to be hard.

when did he stop being just minho to you, you haven’t the faintest idea. but your feelings for him have changed drastically over these amazing months, and it became your downfall because he has not contacted you for weeks.

just complete radio silence, nothing, gone.

“i’m telling you he likes you, okay?”

you rolled your eyes as you snapped out of your trance. turning your head to look at jisung, you pursed your lips and shrugged in bland disbelief. “shut up.“

“no, you shut up and listen to me,” he leaned forward on his seat, his eyes glaring because he was sick and tired of being ignored by both of his friends. but now he’s got a fifty-fifty chance of being a matchmaker, so he planned to go all out. “i have known minho for as long as my fat baby legs can waddle to the sandbox in the park, okay. and not once have i seen him run away like this.”

“this, this thing that he is doing?” his finger excitedly jammed against the surface of the table as he stared at you pointedly, emphasizing his words with each jut of his jaw. “this is serious, and what serious thing can he be afraid of?“

you waited for him to speak, but the silence he purposefully left out was urging to be filled in. you looked away, baffled, and you scrambled your mind to think of something to say.

“i don’t know? faili–“

“wrong!”

“a dise–“

“terrible answer!”

“ma–“

“zero points for yo–ow!”

“knock it off, jisung!” you scolded with annoyance after you flicked his forehead with your fingers, shoving his head back to the cushion of the booth seat. “i know what you want me to say… i just won’t say it.”

“he loves you, (name),” jisung said, hiding every bit of uncertainty behind his persuasive facade—his presentation face, as he calls it. “i really think he does.”

and he wasn’t lying. jisung gave the situation a fair share of analyzing, and he concluded with the fact that minho might just have fallen in love with you. because one thing he knew about minho was that while he is kind, he is not nice.

there is a distinctive difference; kindness is selective, it is earned, it is given by choice. nice is blind, it is a mindless thought, a moral conscious.

anything that goes between minho and his goal, or his dignity, or some dramatic factors as such, minho will not hesitate to lash out. he is kind, not nice.

and you—you’ve been plucking the kindness out of him like he was a river that could never run dry.

disrupting his study schedule to tutor you? ditching his long-term friends to keep you company? apologizing first and being the bigger person in petty arguments?

minho was good to you when he didn’t have to, and he still was kind to you when he didn’t want to. he wanted to keep you happy, he gets the thrill of being able to take care of you, and you can feel comfortable around him.

jisung would even go so far to say minho was head over heels for you now, with his heart bleeding dry for your sake. and he’s running away from it because the concept, the feeling was foreign to him.

“just go to his house, find him. he probably misses you like crazy,” he urged tentatively. “talk it out, or fuck it out if that’s what you guys are used to.”

“do you think it’s that easy? like i can just go up to his home and kiss him?“ you asked, exasperated that jisung didn’t seem to understand the limitation of your tolerance for humiliation and appearing desperate to other people.

“sure, why not! i’d totally do that if i were you!” he boasted, clapping his fist to his chest as he huffed through his nose. “it’s not like he isn’t jerking off to the thought of you anyway! it’s either that or he’s crying himself to sleep at night!”

“that’s…” your voice awkwardly trailed off.

“too much?”

“no, no, just…” you hummed with a slight shake of your head, unable to break through his innocent gaze and not sure how to tell him you missed seeing minho in his naked glory. so instead, you chose to back down. “nothing.”

you blinked, still processing his previous words in your head as you finally brought your coffee up to your mouth to take a short sip.

the sugary taste was barely seeping into the bitterness of your coffee, the last three bags of sugar you added having done nothing to help you savor the taste. and you thought about how minho would probably switch his drink with you or offer to order you a new one if he was here.

jisung watched as you put down your cup and reached for another bag of sugar. he laughed, shifting his legs and leaning against the back of the booth. “the sugar is bad for you.”

“i know,” you muttered as you shook the bag and let the content spill all over your drink.

jisung watched with nonchalance as you picked up your metal spoon and started stirring your coffee again. and he didn’t say a single word.

minho pushed his glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose, and he continued with his note-taking as his eyes focused on the massive text displayed on his laptop screen.

it was all he has done this day. right after morning classes, he headed out for lunch by himself and simply went home. he tried to ignore the stubborn unfamiliarity of spending most of his time alone, hoping the ghost of your voice would eventually stop haunting his heavy steps into the local boba shop, or even just to the edge of his bed when he decided to take a short nap.

he woke up alone, dazed and annoyed. but he was mostly tired; tired of being alone when he knew you were a call away, tired of drowning in chosen solidarity because he wasn’t brave enough to confront his feelings, tired of being scared that you wouldn’t return the affection his heart discreetly held for you.

it was very unlike him, and the change was frustrating. minho never thought himself to succumb to romance yet here he was, making bad decisions and pushing you away when all he wanted was to hold your body close.

the uneven grip on his pen caused him a sudden scrape across the lined-paper. he glanced down the rogue tweak of the letter 'r’ and he clicked his tongue. dropping the pen, he rummaged through his crowded pencil case for a white-out, just in time as the doorbell to his apartment rang.

he furrowed his brows as he perked up, his head turning to look behind his shoulder at the door. discarding the matter at hand, he stood up and made his way to the front door, where he sung the door open and immediately revealed you standing before him.

“hi,” you breathed out when you met eyes with him, your gaze hardening slightly in sudden timidity.

minho gave you a quick scan before he nodded. he, too, feeling rather awkward at what felt like a confrontation to him. “hey.“

“can i come in, or are you going to keep shutting me out?” you laughed meekly, pointing into his apartment and letting your eyes move away from him briefly before returning to his face. “i’m already here anyway, you might as well.”

“i… yeah, sure, come in,” he said, taking a step aside as he opened the door for you. he watched you head inside, kicking your shoes off and shoving them to the side. he eyed the plastic cup in your hand, and he attempted to make light conversation out of it. “you got coffee?”

“oh, yeah. i was hanging out with jisung just then,” you said, turning to face him. you stuck your hand out, giving him the cup. “do you wanna try some?”

“no, i’m good.” he waved his hand.

you looked at him, a faint pout forming on your face before you shrugged and brought the straw up to your mouth. “okay then, it’s probably better for you anyway,” you sipped the coffee, “i dumped like… six bags of sugar in it.”

the change of facial expressions on his face was priceless. he went from processing your words in confusion, then his eyes widened in surprise, and at last his brows furrowed in dismay that you were still sipping the drink like you didn’t just turn it into a liquefied candy cane.

“okay, no, i’m confiscating it,” he said after allowing you a few more obnoxious sip. he grabbed the cup away from you and held it out of your reach, ignoring your continuous protest. “do you know how unhealthy that is?”

“yes, but it’s sweet!“ you complained.

“it’s sweet until you get type-two diabetes.” He rolled his eyes, turning around and heading over to the fridge located in the open area where the kitchen was. “especially when you don’t just drink one cup of coffee every other week, you drink it several times a week, which can toll up to a lot of sugar intake and i am not about to let you run around self-sabotaging your health–”

he stopped talking when he turned away from the fridge and immediately saw you standing before him. the proximity of your faces was a little too close for his liking—not his subconscious, just his stubbornness—and he didn’t know what to do when he was confronted with it so abruptly.

he hasn’t seen you in some time, which gave him no opportunity to create such intimacy. and even though he had missed being able to feel comfortable with you being close, he suddenly didn’t know what to do. he would love to keep his emotions in check, and he would love to not spill secrets he had no intention to tell.

you glanced down to his lips and automatically huffed. jisung’s words flew back into your mind then, telling you to just kiss him now that you’ve made a mistake of stepping into his personal bubble. it wasn’t like minho was actively pushing you out anyway. you could just try, and if it doesn’t work out in your favor, you could just play it off.

a gasp left his chest when you suddenly leaned in and kissed him. your hands went up to cup his jaw, bringing him closer to you when you felt him starting to reciprocate the kiss. you have longed to do this for so long, sometimes it felt like you’d forget the way his lips feel if you go without it for one more day.

the nervousness within was slowly started to vanish, but part of your brain registered how minho wasn’t kissing you with the same vigor he used to whenever you two share a kiss. it felt out of place to feel his mouth move so slowly against your own, and it was not in a harmonious way.

his lips slacked against yours because his brain wasn’t functioning well. minho has missed you more than ever and this—this was practically a dream come true! he was finally kissing you again, and he wanted nothing more than to keep going, to put roam his hands all over you again.

but he couldn’t. he couldn’t allow himself more depths to fall for you, he couldn’t keep digging his own grave with uncertainty and doubt.

he would rather guarantee he can still be friends with you after sorting out his feelings, than risk you not returning his affection and jeopardizing your comfortable relationship.

“w–wait, (name)–stop–” he pulled away from you, taking in a breath of fresh air when his lips detached from yours. the air was eerily cold, he didn’t like it at all.

your hands dropped from his face, your heart sinking to your stomach the same way. that was enough indication—him pushing you off pretty much told you everything you needed to know about how he felt, and god, you felt so conflicted at the discovery.

you were mad at yourself for letting him allow so much control over you. the sheer anger that bubbled in your chest when you felt tears brimming at the back of your eyes was immeasurable. you warned yourself about this, you warned yourself about him, yet you still fell. and now you felt weak and hopeless because he didn’t love you back.

you also felt wronged somehow. the fact that minho has been such a kind friend to you has given you the false assumption that he would at least give you an explanation. if he didn’t want to keep the sexual relationship, he should have just been truthful to you instead of trying to ghost you for weeks and leaving you to your lonely thoughts.

but you wouldn’t have cared if you didn’t like him. him ignoring you wouldn’t have been a problem if you didn’t fall for him.

“what is your fucking problem, minho?” you asked, your anger boiling up. but despite that, your voice was more leveled than ever, as if you were exhausted. it was all being suppressed in your chest, burning and rotting away.

you smiled at him a little, the forced kind of smile, and you sarcastically laughed when you spoke, “if you got bored of me, you could have just said so.”

minho opened his mouth, surprised. but the light glimmer behind your eyes created a new kind of chaos in his head. he has seen you cry before, and this time it was all him.

“i–no, that wasn’t the problem, i just–”

“did i do something then? are you mad at me, or something like that?“ you cut him off with a scoff, shaking your head slightly as you frowned at him. “because you left me alone for weeks. you were a terrible friend to me, and i had no idea if it was me or you.”

“i’m not bored of you, (name). neither am i mad at you,” he replied quickly, sighing as he looked at you with softened eyes. “it's—something personal happened, nothing was your fault.”

you pursed your lips together, feeling slightly less agitated as your questions slowly got resolved one by one. “what is it, then? what happened to you?“

“i…” i fell in love with you.

you waited for seconds for him to talk but all minho could do was look down at the floor, fearing for what would happen to you and him if he ever told the truth. a sigh left your lips at his silence, disappointed that he couldn’t give you a proper answer.

“fine, don’t tell me,” you said, turning around to leave the kitchen area.

“hey, wait, where are you going?” he followed suit, panic flooding into his eyes.

“away from you,” you muttered as you put on your shoes. “don’t worry about seeing me again, i won’t bother you anymore.”

minho hasn’t realized he was unintentionally ruining the relationship until this point. in his attempt to keep his feelings secured and hidden, all to prevent the breakage of your friendship, he failed to notice the damage all the avoiding did to it.

now you were planning to leave him forever, to walk out and completely cut him out of your life. and oh, he was scared. he could not bear to never seeing you again, or even just to stomach the thought of you hating him because of his stupidity.

“wait, no, hold on–” he grabbed ahold of your hand when you grabbed the doorknob. before you could fling him away, he turned you around to face him and, impulsively, grabbed your face to crash his lips against yours.

yes, crash. with the amount of force he was using, the word crash would deem fit. you tried to push him away from you, but your little fists were futile to his broad chest, and soon enough he had you weak at the weeks with the exasperating way he was kissing you.

you could taste this one, his emotions were vivid at the tip of his tongue as he finally learned to surrender himself into you. he was desperate, he was lustful, he was burning at the tips of his skin just to kiss you like there is nothing else he could mean more than this exact moment.

when he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes. it was intimidating and confrontational, everything he thought he couldn’t handle now being pierced through his action so he could prove a point.

“i didn’t…” he shook his head. “i’m so sorry for ignoring you, i did it because i… i didn’t want to ruin our friendship… because i realize i won’t be able to fall out of love with you if we keep being friends, if we keep sleeping together.”

that took such a drastic turn. you never thought things would turn out this way for you, but here minho was, looking so deeply into your eyes and telling you he avoided you because he was scared his love would ruin your friendship. what a damned miracle!

“you… you coward, stupid, dumb, annoying–” you lightly punched him across the chest, feeling such staggering relief that you felt like crying. “you didn’t even give me a fighting chance, you just assumed i won’t like you back.”

“i know, i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t even try to drop hints, how was i suppose to let you know i love you back?”

“i know, baby girl, i’m sorry.”

the shock within him vanished quickly. he didn’t have the time to express his delight the way he would want to. you were standing before him in all your glory—beautiful, genuine, emotional.

and he wanted you with him in a way that was much closer than this.

nudging his nose against yours, minho let his lips meet yours at a slower pace this time. he was gentle with you, his arms holding at the side of your waist to pull you closer as you two kissed.

your hands flew to circle his neck as you stumbled out of your untied shoes and into his chest. minho let himself linger on your lips for a while before he started to trail his kisses down your jaw.

your neck was a territory he has marked many times before, and he never fails to make sure he adds something new every time his lips touch the skin. his teeth grazed past your neck before he met at the crook of it, and he obnoxiously sucked a dark bruise on your skin just so you would whimper in surprise.

sigh—how he missed that whimsical little sound. it was always so heavenly to hear, even when the action that caused it was more than devilish.

he marked his way back up to your lips when his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. he slipped his hand under it, his palm touching your bare skin for a brief second before he retreated them to clutch at the fabric of your shirt.

“can i take your shirt off, baby?” he mumbled into your mouth, his hand already raising slightly in anticipation.

you nodded, raising your arms as he complied and pulled your shirt up. you two broke apart to allow it to go through before leaning back toward each again. minho discarded your shirt off to the ground, his hands couldn’t wait to finally meet with your torso.

he kissed you fervently, his fingers holding the same amount of enthusiasm as they glided past the small curve of your waist. up and down, a faint squeeze to hold you in place, and then he pushed you forward so your back hit the door.

putting a hand between the back of your head and the hard surface, minho reluctantly pulled away from you, this time with no intention to dive back to your lips again because of all the other access to your body you’ve given him.

he breathed heavily, his voice growing raspy. “i’m gonna make it up to you.”

“i expect you to,” you replied boldly, causing him to raise his brow.

that was not something you would otherwise say in a situation like this. minho would have put you in your place if you ever attempted to give him an attitude. but he planned to let it slide this time, after all, he did hurt your feelings and he was at fault here.

“good.” was all he said before he started to move down your body.

his lips met at your collarbones, then to your chest where he skipped over your bra and went straight down to your stomach. he planted light kisses all over your skin, his tongue occasionally swiping across to wet up your body a little more.

he was kneeling before you by the time his hands met the waist of your pants, and he looked up with brows raising teasingly at you as his hands circled to the front. his fingers carefully popped open the button before they hooked through the belt loops and slowly pulled them down to your ankle.

your knees trembled at the touch of his hands, gliding up and down the back of your thighs and ever so slightly tugging you toward him. your breath hitched in your throat when he leaned up to kiss your clothed core, the sudden touch sending a surprise jolt across your mind.

foreign but familiar—it just came too sudden. you hadn’t realized this was actually happening until your panties were dragged past your thighs, the cold air a stinging proof that you’re with minho right now, and his lips were getting dangerously close to where you’ve been aching to have him these past weeks.

his hands curled around your legs, gripping your flesh firmly to keep them apart as he liked it. he moved up your inner-thighs. he continued to send tingly sensations all over your body until he stopped for a second, as if waiting for a dramatic effect, for a lingering thought to vanish before he latched his lips to your pussy.

his tongue darted out to lick between your folds, feeling the wetness gathering at your entrance upon the pleasuring stimulation. your moan went straight into ears, lighting up the delight inside him, and he continued to lather himself all over your cunt, wasting no time to poke his tongue in and out of you rhythmically.

you grabbed a messy chunk of his hair, pulling at it as you desperately tried to rust against his face, taunting him to shove his tongue deeper inside your heat. the position made your legs feel sore, and the mere attempt to grind down on him was just difficult, but you could take none of those into mind that when his mouth mercilessly sucked at your clit until it was red and swollen.

he was luxuriating himself in you—in your taste, in your voice, in your movement. your essence dripping past his tongue in a slurpy motion, your walls clenching at the digits he had graciously slipped into your heat, and ecstasy took your voice up into a milky whine when his teeth barely grazed past your clit as he sucked at you.

the heat in your chest expanded and engulfed itself all over your body. without yourself even realizing, your legs have moved apart to give minho more access to touch you even more.

“fuck, minho, please!” you exclaimed, your head hitting against the door.

ahh, you still know how to beg. perhaps not as profusely as he would have wanted you to but you were polite nonetheless. not to mention, your fingers scratching through his soft locks was enough indication that he was doing a splendid job. and he couldn’t wait to hear more of you, to feel more of you.

moving his face down to your heat, he drove his tongue inside you once again while his thumb went to press circles on your throbbing clit. you let out a choked moan, the sudden change of stimulation a very pleasant surprise, and he has your climax pinned at his mouth in no time.

gathering up your juices into his mouth, minho finally pulled away from you and stood up. he didn’t bother to wipe your essence off his lips, he just went straight for your mouth as he pressed his lips against yours. and you were in too big of a haze to distinguish the taste of yourself and his saliva, still trying to come down from the orgasm you’ve missed having from him.

minho brought his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb carefully as he contemplated his next move. perhaps he was putting a little pressure on himself to make sure this encounter would be perfect, because he thought it somehow needed to be after hurting your feelings.

but part of him also ached for a good fuck after so long. not just with anybody but with you. the scorching desire in his chest would ultimately fuel his instincts today, and maybe he’d not be able to keep his cool when he could finally be inside you.

just the thought of it made his insides burst. he should have never distanced himself from you. it was such a stupid idea.

“up,” minho commanded as he leaned down to tug at your thighs. and you listened to him, jumping up so he could catch you around his waist, your arms going around his neck as your lips moved past his face to run freely down his neck.

you were enjoying the feeling of his skin, kissing him all over in ways you wished you had been able to. your teeth bit down harder when you heard his tiny giggle at your almost amateur attempt on leaving him a hickey, a frown appearing on your face at the fact that he wasn’t taking you seriously.

he brought both of you over to the couch and he dropped you down on the surface, his body quickly hovering over yours as he got onto the couch as well. you looked up at him, your eyes smiling funnily in a way that made him pause his movement. 

this was supposed to be a heated moment, yet somehow a single quirk of your lips was able to make his walls crumble.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, pinching your waist and causing you to squeal at the itch.

“nothing! it’s just…” you reached down for his hand and brought it up to your face, kissing his rough knuckles as you smiled at him. “i’ve missed you, that’s all.”

minho wavered, the glint behind his eyes dimming with a sense of being completely enamored. at the way your lips would smile, at the way your gaze held all of him, even just at how your smaller hand gripped his own. he was so infatuated, he could see no end to it.

“i’m sorry for suddenly leaving you,” he said, leaning down by dropping onto his forearm. your fingers still clung into his palm when he moved it up to your chin, his thumb tracing the tip of it before it moved up to your lips. “i promise i won’t do it again.”

his thumb traced your lower lip, a movement so sensual that you couldn’t think about much of anything else. just the mere fact that you got him back, and that he too has fallen in love with you, was enough to make you drop every ounce of your sanity.

you felt like you’ve got all you need already.

“kiss me, minho,” you pleaded quietly, opening your mouth more so his thumb would shift across your teeth.

he felt your legs move underneath his body, pressing together in a squirm. and he knew you wanted him between them, he knew you were waiting for him to pull them apart instead of doing it on your own. because everything needs to be done by his hands, that has always been the way you two worked, and you would obey him with ease.

flashes of your naked body came before his face. flashes he imagined when he was alone at night, trying miserably to replace you with a toy, or sometimes even himself. his lids dropped as he shifted to look down at your body, soft and awaiting his instructions, and he lightly growled to himself.

impatience suddenly took over him then, the previous moment gone in a blink of an eye. he leaned down to capture your lips, his hands going to your knees to spread them apart so he could place himself right in the middle.

you complied with him, kissing him back and tugging at his shirt as a signal that you wanted it off his body. minho huffed through his nose, slightly annoyed that he has to break away from you but he quickly yanked the collar of the shirt and pulled it over his head.

the flex of his arms was visible as he did so, and your eyes widened shyly without looking away. god, you’ve always loved the way he was built—just muscular enough to ogle at and not too much that they become uncomfortably distracting.

having second thoughts after seeing his toned chest, you decided to sit up from your spot and pushed your hands against him. minho frowned at you, his voice silent but his head-tilt asking a thousand questions. he was going to kiss you, why have you stopped him!

you grinned as you pushed him back, using your body weight to make him fall to the other side of the couch until he was under you this time. you laid on top of him, your small frame trapped between his legs as your head right at the crook of his neck.

minho was about to verbally ask you for your intention, but his eyes rolled up into a close when you kissed his neck. your hands roamed across his chest, your nails dragging ghostly against his skin in an unrecognized pattern as you peppered your kisses and kitten licks all over him.

he sighed in content, feeling your lips on every inch of his body, hot and loving. and he loved being treated this way, like he was being worshipped, like he was a god and you some mere peasant who had to rely on him for a living.

“(name),” he said, his voice sharp as he opened his eyes.

you perked up at him from the waist of his pants, your hands teasingly located near the middle. they had been scattered all over his abdomen, touch here and rubbing there, but never once did they meet at the middle where the obvious bulge of his pants was.

looking at his unsatisfied expression, you could only feel a sense of amusement as you pouted. your lashes fluttered up at him as you scooted back a little for better access. your smile was unfading when you leaned the lower side of your cheek right on top of his clothed member.

“what?” you asked, your smile widening at the hiss he let out.

“stop teasing me,” he said.

“hmm…” you pursed your lips, your finger dragging past his thigh to your face, then you palmed down on the shape of his member. “but it’s so fun.”

for someone with a waterfall dripping past your lips, you sure could find some time to be bratty like this.

rolling his eyes, his tongue poked at his inner-cheek as he turned away for a brief moment. when he looked at you again, his gaze was less hooded than it was amused. but it wasn’t your kind of amused. it wasn’t playful but degrading, the glimmer of it making you shiver.

“you want to say that again, baby?” he asked, his hand moving down to your head. he gently ran his fingers through your hair before he tugged at your scalp, his action light but not without harshness in it.

you whimpered under your breath, your brows furrowing helplessly as your head tilted to the side. “no.”

“good girl.” he released your hair then, gesturing toward himself. he nodded at you, smirking, “keep going.”

you didn’t mess around this time. your hand reached to the rubber waistband and easily pulled his sweats down to his thighs. you scooted your body up, your mouth salivating at the mere sight of his clothed member. you quickly tugged down his boxers, letting his cock spring out before you carefully grabbed its base.

minho sucked in a deep breath at your touch, your small hand covering around the base of his shaft. he closed his eyes with a blissful sigh when your lips finally touched his tip, giving him a little kiss before pressing them against him to dart your tongue over his slit.

licking past his red tip, you trailed your tongue over his shaft once before you went back up to his tip. then you finally took him in your mouth, your head bobbing up and down at regular speed as your hand rubbed the uncovered area.

minho groaned, his hand quickly flying down to your head. he let it lay there, only wanting something for him to hold onto as you sucked him off. great pleasure released from his abdomen, spreading all across his body as you hollowed your cheeks and licked him up as your head moved.

he opened his eyes to look down at you. for a second, you were focused on keeping him in your mouth, but you seemed to have felt his eyes on you so you glanced up at him.

he cursed at your wide-eyed, innocent—well, as innocent as you could look with his dick in your mouth, at least—expression then. his chest doing a flip as you slowly dragged your lips up to his tip to add stimulation to it, the smooching sounds you let out deafening to his ears.

there was something about your facade. it was the way he knew you were just putting up a naive front to rile him up, looking as pure as possible as your lips printed a smile on the top of his shaft, your tongue still poking out to lick him irregularly as if you get to be in control here.

(and, yes, to a certain level you do have control. to a maximum level, you have his utmost attention and all of his heart.)

holding onto the base of his cock, you tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes mischievously at him. dragging the side of his tip against your cheek slowly, you let out a lewd hum, something like a relieved moan but it didn’t lack a tinge of questioning noise in it, and you watched him as if waiting for his patience to crack, waiting for his tough walls to fall beneath your feet.

he was falling. his face didn’t much show it, and either did his muscles tense under your body weight. but minho was completely surrendered to you; how could he not? you’re such a pretty thing, your warm mouth feeling heavenly as they moved up and down his shaft in an agonizingly slow pace.

his breathing was elevated now, he could feel his chest suffocating with deep arousal, and he wanted nothing more to have your walls wrapped around him now. forget your lips, he needed the tightness around him.

“okay, no,” minho spoke after a moment of thought. he attempted to sit up, his hands moving out to grab at your elbows. “you, get up, now.”

you listened to him, sitting up from your spot while he pulled at your arm. you followed his lead, letting him bring you onto his lap where you heat met with his hardened member. The confusion that once lingered in your head immediately faded away when you felt his girth snug between your folds, a whimper leaving your lips excitedly as you grind down on his member, wanting more friction out of a mere touch.

minho huffed, a tingly sensation fixated at his abdomen. his movements were beginning to get hasty but he has a general direction of what he wanted to do. he wanted you, that was all he knew. and with you sitting prettily on top of him, his mind knew exactly what he had to do despite the pitter-pattering of his heart.

although clumsy, he was precise when he gabbed you by your waist and hoisted you up with your help. he moved his hand down to hold up his dick, angling it right at your entrance before he glanced up at you through his tousled hair.

his eyes were striking, dazzling you as he waited for permission to handle you. you weren’t able to say much, a knot present at the back of your throat that could only be released when you could finally feel full again, full of him. so instead of talking, you brought your hands to your sides where his laid, and you lightly spread your knees further apart to drop onto his cock.

minho moaned lowly, feeling the warmth of your entrance as his tip got lathered up with your essence. he took that as a green light, and with a tightened grip on your skin, he guided you to sink on his length by pushing your body lower and lower until you were sat with him stuck within your walls.

your eyes shut when you felt his stretch, opening you up so deliciously that you needed a moment to breathe. you took all of him in you, his length a pleasantly erotic sensation inside your cunt that even a small scratch of friction could get your head all fuzzed up in a dream.

you felt full, oh so very full, in the most delightful way possible. you felt like smiling when you adoringly looked at him, because you loved him so and you didn’t think you could get this back again. your walls unconsciously clenched around him when you felt like shifting your position a little, and the little breathy sounds he let out a kind of music you adored.

he stared back at you after the sudden commotion and his heart melted. your faint smile was an undeserved treasure you somehow decided to grant him on a daily, and the fact that you always made him feel so snug and good, both chastely and sexually, was nothing short of a miracle.

his hand slipped from your waist to lace through yours, holding you softly as lust blossomed in his eyes.

it has always been the two of you who could make each other feel this way. the thrill of first love, the nostalgia of being intimate, the fear of losing one another—no wonder you two fell in love, it was a match made in heaven.

he brought you down to kiss him, and your arms instinctively flew around his neck. you allowed him a second of solace before pulling away just enough to speak, your voice small with praise. “fuck, you feel so good.”

he laughed, biting at your jaw where his face got draped over by the falling of your hair. “good, but i’m about to feel even better,” he whispered before reattaching his lips to yours. between the tangled lips, you could hear a needy whine sounding from the back of his threat, and you giggled into his mouth. he wanted you to move.

you carefully brought yourself up, your walls scraping past his cock in the process and catching up a burn. then, slowly but still at a non-torturous pace, you lowered yourself back down on him. you kept up with the speed, going up and down on his lap and moaning with every new stretch of your walls.

minho’s hands slipped from yours to caress all over your body, touching you gingerly as if you were his pretty porcelain doll. when his hands met your chest, he gave a small frown at the bra that was still attached to your body, and he quickly unhooked it to expose you completely.

your thighs stuttered when you felt him clamp his palm over your breast, the sudden jolt of pleasure hitting your head. his hands moved to cup your side, his thumbs reaching to press against your nipples and twirling circles with it. then he leaned forward to take your perky bud into his mouth after kissing around the bouncy area, licking your milky smooth skin before his tongue swiped across your nipple.

he kissed across your chest, his lips unable to remove from your skin as you relentlessly moved up and down on him. the plethora of pleasure, the immeasurable amount of enjoyment manifesting into this electrifying sensation all across your veins. it was all from the way minho felt so good inside you, and the passionate touch of his mouth on your everywhere.

“ahh–min–” you hugged him close with a sudden scream, only able to utter his name halfway. the jolt had knocked the air out of your lungs when his cock brushed against your sweet spot, making your knees buckle weakly and your movement halting to a messy rhythm.

minho raised a brow, feeling playful upon seeing your drastic reaction. he pulled away from your face, his eyes searching for your face. “hmm? min–what?”

you furrowed your brows then, a blush escaping to your cheeks at his seductive voice. as you struggled to keep up with the thrusts, you pursed your lips together and flashed minho a soft grimace before you squeezed your eyes shut again at the sensation. you didn’t plan on finishing your cut off sentence and you just wanted to keep hitting the sweet spot over and over again, because god, it made you feel so, so good.

but minho wanted otherwise. unfortunately, he has the upper hand here. he wasn’t the one who’s been moving rigorously the past minutes, he still got lots of stamina stored up for him to hold you in place. you whined when he did, his hands pushing down on your hips to prevent you from sliding up his dick.

you looked at him, your eyes wide as sweat glistened on your forehead, sticking the hair to your pretty skin. the arousal was dripping inside you, aching to be moved around, longing to be penetrated.

hoping to gain an ounce of sympathy, you pouted with a slump of your shoulders and pleaded, “minho, please.”

“hmm,” he squinted his eyes, lightly snapping his hips deeper into you. “please…? please what, baby.”

you clenched your fists, feeling the annoying pain of his slow, slow thrusts. part of you wanted to see how long he could keep up with this, this burningly slow pace. but hellish ache at your pussy overshadowed your tendency to be bratty and childish. all you wanted was to feel the pleasure again, so you begged as he wanted you to.

“please fuck me, minho,” you asked, desperation pumping out of your mouth like gold, “please fuck me–your cock feels good, i–i want more!”

minho laughed lowly, the moany sound hiding under the edge of his voice when he saw how you struggled to speak. the heat on your cheeks adding to the overall flair of his sight, your bare appearance the greatest art he’s ever laid his eyes on. and your words made him soar off the moon, you needy little thing! you’d break yourself with embarrassment to keep feeling the euphoric feeling only he could make you feel, wouldn’t you?

how pathetically adorable. maybe he should help you out a little, the moment a silent fulfillment to his own desire to pound himself quicker into you.

he gripped your hips tighter by digging his nails into your skin and he helped you up on his length. he waited for a moment before he forced your fragile body down on his cock, earning a chocked strangled whimper from you. he continued in a regular rhythm. occasionally, he would push his hips up to meet with your pussy, adding to the strength of the pound and making your moan louder with the strike.

you let loose of your muscles when you felt that you’ve lost the control, and you pressed yourself closer to him in hopes to regain the previous position. the magnified gratification came unknowingly like a ghost, his dick finally able to find your g-spot again, and this time stayed haunting you with every slick thrust.

as your pussy started to salivate more with each snap of your hips, the squelching noise was also becoming harder to ignore. it mixed in with your heavy breaths, the sound of sex reverberating around you both, and you could feel your orgasm approaching inch by inch, threatening your release.

minho was watching you carefully, his eyes fixated on your face as he observed every little movement. your jaw hung open at the constant moaning, your eyes barely able to open clearly because of the overwhelming sensation—everything about you made him feel confident, possibly even narcissistic at some point.

but he really enjoyed the fact that you succumb to him so easily, and you shamelessly showed it through your body without even knowing.

he wondered if you knew you were clenching incredibly tightly around his cock. it didn’t seem to be a conscious action, considering how you could barely string a coherent sentence together. judging by that, though, minho knew your climax was approaching close, and he planned to get you to it with as much care as possible.

pulling you off him suddenly, he sat up quickly and pushed you on your back. he hovered over your body, only laying on top of you after he re-inserted himself inside of you. your legs went around his hips, bringing him closer by the back while he leaned his head down to briefly kiss your neck.

“hey,” he smiled, his hand caressing through your hair as he looked down at you with soft eyes.

you raised your brows at him, silent breathes huffing in and out of your nose as he started to thrust into you again. you touched his face, squeezing his cheeks with a smile. “what?”

minho was right. he does feel closer to you like this.

his eyes shifted down to your lips and back up into your eyes. affection engulfed him quickly, it does every time he stares into your eyes. he gets reminded of the way he fell in love with you again and again whenever he does.

and he never minded the constant reminder. he enjoyed the process. it was a lot of emotional talks, playful banter, and a lot of good sex. all of which he felt like he could have with you for the rest of his life, he wanted to have with you for the remaining of his stupid lifetime.

he unconsciously pounded deeper into you then, his mind wanting you to feel all of him to the rawest sense. you moaned at the sudden change of force but you welcomed it by opening your legs a little more for him.

your toes were curling after a few more hard thrusts, your stomach churning impossibly at the way his cock felt sliding in and out of you. when you felt the tightening feeling in your chest, you looked up at minho and grabbed his hand, huffing out hastily, “min–minho, i’m close.”

“i know,” he hummed loving at you, picking up his pace to bring you over the edge.

you arched your back at the feeling, a silent scream leaving your mouth. he pinned your hands to the side of your head, his hands hugging your small ones, and when your head moved back down to face him, he wasted no time to put his lips on yours again.

god, it was like he literally cannot keep himself off you.

your mind was getting foggy. you weren’t sure whether it was from the passionately way he kissed or from the burn between your legs, but you felt like you couldn’t quite process anything clearly anymore. well, anything except for one thing.

when minho pulled away, he kept himself close. his lips were grazing against yours but he wasn’t close enough to kiss you. and you could feel his lips move against yours ghostly when he whispered, “i love you.”

you processed that one. the words hit you really strongly too, your heart practically sunk up to your throat at them. you wanted to say it back, you planned to say it back, but you only sucked in a strong breath when minho rammed against the sweet spot in you. your eyes rolled back at the unprecedented attack and your back lifted off the couch once again.

“oh fuck–minho, please, please–ahh!”

he continued with a few more harsh thrusts before you released around his cock with a whine, your hands tightening around his at the pleasure. he had his head buried at the crook of your neck, his hips continued to move as he drowned himself in the scent of your body. he was chasing his own high now, his cock twitching inside your warm hold as he pounded into you.

your walls slurped him up, tightening around him to add stimulation. and when he felt like he was about to come undone, he quickly pulled out of you and sat up. his hand moved to his cock, quickly pumping along his length as his eyes trained on your sweaty, delicate body.

you looked at him before slowly sitting up, you went on all fours and crawled closer to him before positioning your face before his cock. minho shakily breathed out a sigh when you nudged your face against his tip, then you stopped at your opened mouth, waiting for him to pour himself over your tongue.

“ugh, you’re gonna swallow me, baby girl?” he hissed out, and he bit his lower lip when you nodded, widening your eyes naively at him.

he groaned, his abdomen tightening at the mere sight of you, hot cum sprouting out of his slit and landing on your stuck-out tongue. you held your breath, feeling the liquid dripping past your tongue before taking it back into your mouth and rolling it around. when you looked back up at minho, you grinned a little and stuck your tongue out at him.

his lips twitted at the sticky substance lingered on the tip, little lines stretching from your lips to your tongue. fuck, you filthy thing! how dare you make his heart all disheveled and gone.

“fuck, you’re so hot,” he muttered under his breath as you sat back on your heels.

you laughed, wiping your mouth and swallowing the last of him. “thank you, you’re not so bad yourself.”

he rolled his eyes then, the corner of his lips turning up into a graceful smile. he tackled you to the couch then, your hot body pressed against yours, but the atmosphere was more romantically chaste than sexual this time. you two were just two lovers naked in each others’ arms, putting complete and utter faith in each other that you would be held safe.

you two went quiet, basking in the silence. but you could hear him, his heart and his skin, pumping and brushing along yours.

would you have thought of this months ago when you first met minho? no. you have dreamt of it, but you never thought it could be true. and the dream was shattered when he suddenly decided to ghost you weeks ago.

but it didn’t matter now. you were here with him, he was holding you tightly like it was the only thing he knew to do.

“i meant to say it back,” you broke the silence first, “i love you too.”

despite knowing the answer already, minho still breathed out a sigh of relief anyway. he pressed a kiss to your head, his eyes closing calmly as he nodded. “i know.”

you smiled. minho has been a lot of things—a nice classmate, a good friend, and a few quick fucks. but you never indulged in the idea of you and him together. the idea that minho could be you and him together, that he could be a partner, a boyfriend.

the idea that minho could be an ‘us.’

❤️❤️Let’s do some intermediate witch exercises!❤️❤️

So you’re done with beginner witchcraft... what now?

Pick something from this list:

Learn a new physical skill! Embroidery, watercolor, baking pies, baking bread, digital art, violin, jewelery making, etc. these are all things you can apply to your magical practice in various ways. Take knot magic and sigil magic and combine them into an embroidered divination mat! That’s something I did!

Explore some random object in your house and apply it to your practice. Examples: dry erase marker, deodorant, hand lotion, shoelaces, a humidifier, graph paper. See how similar tools change your spells: does writing a sigil in sharpie vs a colored pencil change how the effect manifests? Write down how your experiments go and integrate the results going forward! Figure out what works, and why it works

Do that one thing you’ve been too scared to try. That thing you tried once and failed at. For me it was growing herbs in pots. For you it might be energy work, or glamours, or sewing, or anything! Revisit the thing you couldn’t do earlier in your practice, think about why you failed the first time and how you can do better now that you’ve gained more experience

Make something basic that you’ve never made! Was it too messy? You didn’t have time? Didn’t think you’d do it right? Try things like Eggshell powder/chalk, using leftover wax and a wick to make a new candle, make a candleholder out of air cry clay, and don’t be afraid to mess up! It’s gonna suck the first couple of times! My latest leftover wax candle didn’t even want to burn once I finished it! That’s okay!

Revisit your goals and aspirations! What do you think your practice ads to your life, and are you satisfied with it? Write it down! How have your previous goals changed?

Start thinking about what you buy, where you get your supplies, and how you can acquire them for the best effect. You have enough base stuff to get by and focus on quality over quantity now For example all the crystals, candle holders, and shells I buy now are from second hand locations (more often than not this specific antique store I really like) I find that distancing them from the like... source I guess helps with the character of the pieces. They work better and surprisingly have less baggage than objects straight from a retailer!

Pare down!!!! Look through, find things that don’t work! It’s easier to start big and take things out! Do you like working with days of the week but don’t like keeping track of the moon phases? Toss it! Like working with herbs but some correspondences don’t make sense? Toss them! Wish you were one of those people who do complicated circle castings but you just don’t like doing it? Don’t! Of change it until you find a method that serves you! Toss out the things weighing you down!

Freestyle!!! Combine spell types! Write down a bunch of ingredients and spell types in a jar and pick out 2-3 and just GO FOR IT! You might draw out “binding, poppet, crystal grid” or “spell jar, ward” or “glamour, candle spell” write down what you did, the specifics and conditions, and keep track of how it works! Refine! Refine!!!!

This is the time to start a nicer grimoire! You have a messy workbook already, a place to work and worry and try things, but now you’re ready to get a slightly nicer notebook to record things carefully, list out your favorite spells and rituals, color code (and be able to show it to other people and they can actually read your handwriting). It doesn’t have to be absurdly fancy, mine isn’t! But it’s something that visually shows my progress and is so much easier to reference back to for spells I need to re-do often like my room wards.

(I use this thing called a travelers notebook, it basically has smaller notebooks inside it and you can add or remove sections as you like and they come in lines, dot grid, and blank paper!!!! Plus they LOOK like grimoires without the unnecessary decorations with religious connotations that most advertised grimoires have!)

How did you learn so many languages. Do you have any tips?

Yes!!!! Yes I do!!!

Everything I wish I could tell myself before starting my language “journey” lol:

🦩Dont be intimidated

Don’t be intimidated, specifically by doing listening or speaking practice. I know in the US (or for most English speakers), when we hear someone that speaks perfect English but merely has an accent we think “they don’t speak English”, but from experience this mentality is not shared with other languages. When you know even a little bit of a language or can’t speak it very well, natives speakers are really really encouraging. I think since we view not being 100% fluent without so much as an accent, as “not knowing any of a language” we are hard on ourselves and give up pretty easily.

🦩Listening practice is as important as studying vocabulary and grammar

When you listen to native speakers talk, you are training your ear even though you don’t understand it. Listen and listen, eventually your brain stops picking out English words that aren’t even there, but rather, starts to catch patterns in the language (for example, the same words sticks out to you over and over).

🦩Set realistic and doable goals or you’ll get discouraged and quit

If you are a busy person, make small goals to fit language study in. Don’t tell yourself that you need to master _____ within a week. Instead give yourself 15 mins of reading in the evening, and 25 mins of language listening in the morning. It’s also easier to add the language into stuff you do on a daily basis anyway. For example if you are religious, find your prayers you pray daily in the language you are learning.

🦩learn to read the language first (obviously this tip might not be applicable for character based languages like Chinese)

I know everyone says “immersion is the best and most important part of language” but honestly, a lot of our native speaking knowledge comes from our literacy education. When we are taught how to read, it’s through reading we can discover new words through context. It’s also easy to pick up new language reading since it’s available anywhere, where immersion is only available when you are surrounded by native speakers. The first thing I do is learn how to read and write the language, then the entire language becomes accessible to me.

🦩Spend time perfecting the sounds of the language that are most difficult for you

The vocal sounds of a language is the foundation of a language. I know we are all impatient and want to simply learn as many phrases as possible as fast as possible, but if you get down the unfamiliar sounds of a language that don’t exist in English, you’ll have a better foundation of the language and your speaking and listening will be better from the very beginning. So take the time to practice those weird sounds by looking into the position of the tongue and where the sound comes from, from the chest to the lips. Look into how tense the mouth is, how much air comes from the lips, what the sound is like next to other sounds. When you master this speaking becomes more instinctual and it’s easier to pick up the language.

🦩Search YouTube, google, Instagram IN THE LANGUAGE YOU ARE STUDYING.

Don’t search “korean music” or “korean kids tv” or even “korean vegetables” in google. Just translate how to say them in a translator app, then copy and paste them into the search bar. This way native korean information, videos, posts will come up. For example, if you’re in the mood for some horror comics, and want to read/watch them in the language you are learning, go to the translator app, and figure out how to say them, then search it. It works way better, even if the translation isn’t correct or more natural, you’ll still get the information, posts, and videos you want to see.

🦩Find ways to practice speaking the language (I use HiNative) and don’t be discouraged by corrections.

Getting corrected does not mean you’re wrong, corrections are the most useful part of learning a language. If you are the type of person who is sensitive to criticism, you need to remind yourself corrections are NOT criticism. They are NOT a reflection of your progress, they are NOT you failing! You will always be corrected as a language learner and the sooner you are gentle with yourself in learning the sooner you will learn more. Get those first corrections out of the way, allow yourself to butcher pronunciation, get corrected for the first 10 times, let it sting a little and move on. Eventually you will be begging native speakers to tell you every little detail in where you went wrong!

🦩Tv and Books seems to be more useful for immersion and listening practice then music does

So far in my experience music is its very weird and abstract, and the things said in music aren’t really useful in speaking? It’s good for gathering vocab, but if you want music listening practice that’s music based try searching for rap in that language, although obviously you’ll be picking up a lot of informal language in music/rap. Tv shows however are typically how people really do talk, so turn off English subs and just listen! Books are really useful for learning new vocabulary, but sometimes written language is different than spoken (often), although when you speak it the way you’ve learned from a book the worst you’ll sound is “formal and poetic”.

🦩Look up “insert language you are learning phrases and words that aren’t useful or correct”

There so many programs and books that teach you phrases you’ll never use or that are only appropriate in very specific situations. I don’t know why language programs do this, but learning which ones are weird or only in specific settings before you start learning really helps. Chinese Especially does this...like I learned so many phrases and words that natives will never use and have no purpose???

🦩Know the different subjects of learning a language and which apps to use for that

Everyone uses Duolingo, but this app alone won’t make you speak a language. Duolingo and Memrise are great for memorizing vocab, but, is it vocab that in the context of your reading and listening practice? Are you learning words you are hearing and reading all the time? Duolingo is a lot of fun but I feel like the vocab is so broad and it doesn’t go deep enough into the language. Feel free to use it at first to get used to the sounds of the language, but try using flash card apps like quizlet or Anki instead where you can write down and study words you are hearing constantly. Memrise does have actually study sets for many language books and lessons! So you can study words you are hearing in specific programs and books which is pretty useful in regards to vocab.

There obviously is more than just learning vocab. What about grammar, listening practice, speaking practice and reading? If you are wanting to use primarily apps find out which apps are available for your language. Here is an example of the apps I use for each subject. Be aware some languages are not available on them.

Vocab: quizlet, anki

Grammar: books (printed or kindle), YouTube grammar lessons, websites

Reading: books (printed or kindle), beelinguapp, instagram (posts that have text), Netflix/YouTube with both subtitles in the language you are learning and spoken in language you are learning, epic app

Writing: just use paper and pencil/pen

Listening: audio books (beelinguapp/epic/kindle/YouTube), tv and movies (Netflix/YouTube etc with no English subs), conversations on YouTube (search in language you are studying, don’t search “Spanish conversations” or “Japanese conversations”)

Speaking: HiNative (pretty much all I use since it’s all languages, quick, and you get immediately answered and corrected by native speakers), get friends in language you are learning through lots of apps

Translator: it’s really hard to find a good one, most of them are really weird so only use them for words and the most basic or simple phrases and sentences, otherwise use HiNative to ask native speakers directly, or ask people on the apps that connect you to native speakers

🌱I should note that for talking to native speakers I only like HiNative, since it’s built to NOT be a form of social networking at all. It’s not personal in anyway, and there’s no way to private message or speak to other users outside a asking questions publicly. The people on there are only about learning or teaching a language, not usually making friends. I’ve found the sites that are built to make native speaking friends aren’t useful to me personally, as most of the native speakers are either dudes looking for a woman to date or people wanting to only practice English with you, so they wasted a lot of my study time. People who are willing to help you learn are there, but it takes time to filter everything else out. If you would find it helpful to make friends by all means use them but I don’t really use it myself.🌱

You don’t want to really study EVERY SUBJECT every single day (unless you have the time). It can get really overwhelming, and you don’t really absorb information that if you are just cramming. While I would say it’s good to read and listen daily, spread subjects out over the week. Grammar on Monday and Friday, vocab on Tuesday and Thursday. Take one day to review all of what you’ve learned all week. Pick a day you have the largest block of free time. Bi-weekly works fine too.

I have an old post on how I organize my study time for multiple languages: https://alwaysabeautifullife.tumblr.com/post/182817883372/what-do-you-use-to-learn-your-languages-im

🦩Write sentences daily of everything you’ve learned (no THIS I RECOMMEND DAILY)

Write as many as you can. Use all the grammar you’ve learned, the words you’ve learned, everything! Write them in your notes and submit them to be corrected in HiNative. The sentences they correct, put them in flash cards!

🦩It’s ok to abandon languages you aren’t passionate in

So you’ve learned to read the language, and you know basic phrases, and now you just don’t want to do it anymore. If you can’t think of any reason to maintain it and don’t know why you are studying it, learning some of the language is good! Fluency does NOT need to be everyone’s goal. You can hold a conversation, and that’s good enough for you. Feel free to try out various languages, there will be one or some that really are your passion, it’s fine to have the goal of fluency in those and conversational in others.

Don’t abandon languages however because you feel discouraged. Discouragement is just a bump to get over, when you train your brain to maintain study habits through the days you feel discouraged, you make it habitual. Habits are harder to break and abandon! Evaluate your reasonings for wanting to speak a language, and your reasons for abandoning them if you want. Don’t let difficulty, disorganized, discouragement, or poor time management get in your way!!

🦩With all that said it’s ok to take breaks

It’s ok to get overwhelmed and take breaks from language learning. If you can still maintain what you’ve learned by listening to music in your language or staying connected in some way that’s good, but the “you’ll loose a language” isn’t entirely true. I’ve taken year long breaks and refreshing what I learned previously is pretty easy! Your brain really does go “oh yeah I do remember this!” when you’re studying information you studied years ago.

🦩Be gentle with yourself

Be gentle with yourself. People that claim to be fluent in 6 months are selling something or want to be an influencer. Don’t compare yourself to them. Language learning even for natives is a lifetime education. It’s not something you do for 6 months then stop. It’s continual and that looks different for everyone (yes native speakers included). Don’t bother watching YouTube videos on how to learn in 10 mins or 3 months, you’ll only get discouraged about your own amazing progress and all the work you’ve done.

🦩Plan your “can you say something in it” phrase now

This one is just for fun but after hearing you are learning a language the first thing you’ll get asked is “oh cool you speak (insert target language here)? Can you say something in (insert target language here)?” It does not matter what level of fluency you are at, you will absolutely forget the entire language and your own native language when you are asked this because it sends your brain to another dimension. So think of some funny phrases to say to people who ask, master them, then when they ask what they mean you can have a laugh. Other wise you will say something stupid of jumbled words (my go to was ‘we women are fruit’ for some reason thanks brain you’re incredible) you’ve learned that don’t belong in a sentence, or even worse you’ll run a blank and you’ll just look at them like:

🍳👄🍳

So think of inside jokes to tell your friends, funny phrases, even goofy insults! Memorize them and tell them at your friends and family to torture them because they can’t escape sound waves! It’s a good way to memorize the language but also to become confortable speaking it!

Please excuse any errors I don’t wanna go over my mistakes so pretend u can’t see them 🙈

Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 7. Home Sweet Home

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The quest for relevant gifs continue as we begin this chapter with a cheeky little flashback. Hope you all had a happy end of 2020 and may all your 2021 goals come to fruition.

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

The school bell rang. All the kids packed up their things and got into a line to walk out the school to their parents. You were told to always take the back of the line, that way when all the other kids walked out the door to meet their parents, you could break off and run down to the teacher’s cafeteria. You’d stand outside the door and fifteen minutes later your father would arrive, usually with another two teachers in tow. Everyday you’d see him round the corner then drop your bag and sprint your little legs down to him. He’d pick you up in his arms and place a big kiss on your cheek.

“How was your day princess? Did you give Janet a hard time?” he’d ask, to which you’d always shake your head no. He’d smile at you before placing you back on the ground, then you’d run back to your bag and your father would bring you back to his classroom where he taught other kids. He’d correct work for a bit while you did your homework, usually at a desk far too big for you but it was still easier then the kitchen table.

After you had finished your homework your father would let you pull out pencils and paper and draw until either he had finished his corrections or it was time to go. It was 1985 and you were strapped into the backseat of your father’s car with ‘Out Of Touch’ on the radio. You were six years old and living the high life in the back of your daddy’s car on the way to your suburban house where your mom was cooking pasta for dinner after a long-shift at 7/11.

You woke up when the light hit your eyes, stirring you from the peaceful childhood dream of speeding down the country rode while The Bangles sang out. You were lying on a hard bed in what looked like a med-bay made out of an office. Realisationed hit you like a truck that this was the Sanctuary and you shot up, immediately regretting it when everything started to hurt.

“Woah Woah, easy.” A man chided as he jumped to your side, grabbing you by the shoulders to stop you from getting out of the bed. You yelled at him to get off you as you swung at him, sending him backwards. In a moment another two were on you, a man and a woman.

“Tie her before she pulls out her IV!” the woman yelled. The first man stood up and began strapping you in using broad leather straps while the other two put their weight on you.

You struggled as best you could, still exhausted and something heavy on your leg. “Let. me. Out!” you yelled as you pushed against the bonds.

“Get Daryl” one of the women commanded, the second man running out. “Try not to pull that IV out. We can’t patch you up if you do.” she commented, walking around to tend to the man you punched. At this angle you could see the four barred tattoos on her neck. You recognised her, but it seemed she didn’t recognise you. Or at least wasn’t saying anything.

“What are you gonna do to me?” you asked, trying to hide your fear. The man glared at you from where he sat on another hospital bed, his eye turning bruised.

“Nothing.” The woman commented. “Bosses orders” the man scoffed at that, earning a slap to his chest by the woman.

“What? You actually think Daryl is the boss. Negan had him putting dead ones on the fence! He should still be doing that!” the woman punched him in the chest

“Knock it off,” she chided “Unless you wanna get punished”

“He doesn’t do that shit” the man grumbled.

“Do you wanna be the reason he starts doing it?” You couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe it was your nerves at the situation but their banter was completely unexpected. She turned around and looked at your tied down giggling figure. “What’s so funny!?”

“You sound like his mom” you turned your head to look at them as you spoke, a smile on your face.

“She bitches like the old hag too” the man chirped, earning a more playful slap from the woman. This was good, the tension was being lifted if only slightly.

“Sorry for punching you. New surroundings, ya know.” you piped up, hoping to take advantage of the tension drop.

“Yea well, you're not getting out of those belts” the man retorted, nodding towards the binds

“That’s fair” you sigh. Looks like you’ll need a new plan. Maybe some info, but you’d have to give a little to get a little “So are you gonna kill me? Like your friends tried to”

“What you mean?” The man asked

“Couple of people broke into my safe house, said they were saviours and they were gonna kill me to save their friends.” you stared at the ceiling, trying to feign complete helplessness. “Are you with them?”

“No, but-” the woman shushed him again, but that did nothing to deter the man. “We used to be, then a war happened and our boss got locked up and they put an outsider in to look over us”

‘Locked up?’ you thought ‘so he’s not dead.’ you bit your tongue to contain your happiness. “I can’t say I’m sorry” you said after a beat, “So...I’m gonna live?” you looked at them with intentionally wide eyes. The woman looked pissed, but she nodded. You breathed a sigh of relief and closed your eyes. A beat or two later the man returned with Daryl and a grey-hair woman in tow.

“Get those off her!” Daryl ordered.

“It’s okay” you interjected. “I punched your friend there. Kinda earned this”

“Nah” the first man perked up “If I had been jumped then woke up in a strange place I’d have acted out too,” he moved over and started opening the belts, Daryl working on the others. You slowly pulled yourself up, Daryl jumping to your side to help you into a sitting position.

“You alright?” Daryl asked. You looked over now realising your palms were bandaged and your leg was in a splint. You reached up to your aching head and felt a bandage with your fingers.

“I’ve been better” you spoke low, still in a great deal of pain.

“What happened?” the grey haired woman asked. You spun a story of a bunch of people claiming to be saviours who entered your apartment with the plan of ambushing and killing Daryl, how you burned down the apartment and jumped out the window for your escape. The grey haired woman listened to you with growing worry on her face. “Did you kill them all?” she pushed

“I don’t know.” you admitted

“What do you mean you dont know!” she snapped

“Carol-” Daryl started

“No, if there’s people out there claiming to be saviours and hurting people then we’re gonna look bad in front of the other settlements.” Carol snapped back.

“She’s right,” the messenger added. “We’ll have to do something.”

“These were our brothers” the punched man spoke out “We can’t just kill them.”

“They didn’t give us a choice” Daryl snapped. “Y/N barely got out alive and she’s been living out there for months. What if they get someone who can’t hold their own!” he went to storm out but you reached out of the bed and grabbed his arm, yelling out in pain at the strain.

“Don’t” you warned, after Daryl and the woman helped you back into the bed. “If they’re still there then they’re barricaded and have significant advantage.”

“Well what do you purpose we do?” Carol asked. Your breath was getting heavy.

“Anybody got a map of DC? And maybe a pencil”

The original messenger boy got you a map and a pen. You marked out where your apartment had been, as well as some buildings that had fallen apart with age. “They said they were watching me, which means they could be in any of these” you marked around the stable buildings that could make for a hide, which was surprisingly few. “This is my hideout in city centre” you said marking the building

“You never mentioned another safe house.” Daryl spoke up, you smirked

“A girl needs her secrets.” you handed the pen to Daryl “What route did you take to my place?” he lined in his route.

“What if they’re farther?” Carol asked.

“They’re not.” you spoke firmly “They were watching me for long enough they knew when Daryl wouldn’t be around which means they made their place comfortable, and I bet a couple of them got injured in the fire, meaning they’re gonna have to lay low and patch themselves up,” You explained. Your body finally gave way and you fell back on the pillows. The woman jumped to your help, telling the others to go. She made you comfortable in the bed, you drifting off to sleep again not long after.

“How’d you know they’re there?” she asked later that evening when you were awake, eating some acorn mush, “How are you sure?”

You could sense she was worried. “I was in the military before all this” you answered. “Our job was to sneak into enemy territory to help our fellow soldiers or civilians. We used to make maps like that, using where our friends got attacked as a central point to where the enemy could be hiding” she nodded as you explained, though still visibly nervous. “They’ll be fine” you tried to reassure her. “If they’re not nearby, they’ll have to get through hordes of walkers before they’ll be somewhere safe. You’re friends will get them”

She seemed to be reassured, If only a little. “You know I’m meant to be looking after you,” she breathed out, a tear sneaking over her cheek. She wiped it away before it could fall. “I’m Laura, by the way”

“I’m Y/N”

The following morning they all returned, with the exception of Daryl. “You were right” Laura informed you. The ‘saviours’ were held up barely a block away and now they were dead.

“Where’s Daryl?” You asked when Carol visited you.

“He took off for Alexandria” Carol replied. “I’m in charge now.”

“Oh” you spoke, clearly disappointed. Carol ordered Laura to leave, putting you on high alert. She pulled up a chair and looked you in the eyes with a dead stare.

“What is your relationship with Daryl?” she asked bluntly. You cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate so I can give you an answer you’d be happy with, Carol.” you replied helpless from the bed. She knew you couldn’t run, yet she was putting on this show of bravado? She seemed to accept your request though.

“Up until three days ago we didn’t know Daryl had a secret lady hiding in the city. We want to make sure Daryl isn’t keeping secrets that can hurt us.” she spoke a little more relaxed now, but still direct. She reminded you of your mother in a way, whenever she noticed a cookie was missing, or later in life, her vodka had been replaced with water.

“So Rick, Carl, or Tara hadn’t mentioned me either?” those names spurred on some recognition. “Guess not” you sighed, thinking on how to break to this woman you had tried to kill two of her friends. You came to the conclusion that you shouldn’t. “I traded with Carl and Rick for some medical supplies. Few months later Tara, Rick, and Daryl stumbled into my area needing help so I did. Daryl’s been trading with me since.”

“What kind of trade?” she pushed.

“Food,” you answered. “He’s been feeding me, in return I’ve been getting him stuff. Blankets, bandages, jeans, kid’s shit like bottles, and toys-”

“And raincoats with little butterflies on it?” Carol interrupted you. You nodded and whispered a ‘yeah’ under your breath. “I have a niece called Judith. She’s trying to name all the butterflies.” she spoke lovingly of the child and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of a small girl pointing at water-proof butterflies giving them cute names. She probably gave them different names every time she listed them.

The smile faded as you remembered the world isn’t that simple anymore. “So what now?” you asked.

“You’ll stay here” Carol ordered. “You’ll do your part, whatever way you can.”

You nodded in agreement “I know this might be a big ask considering we just met but,” you began, taking a big breath to try and stave off the tiredness, “Could I help here? In the hospital. I was a combat medic before this so it’s probably the best way I can help.”

And it could be a great way to weed out who knows who you are and threaten them into keeping their mouth shut, or even shutting it for them.

Your request was granted, under the watchful eye of Laura, and so began your new life at The Sanctuary.

~Tag List~

@bodeckersbitch​ @lauren-novak​

Headcanons for Izuku, Tamaki and Mirio developing an instant attraction and HUGE crush for the new student at U.A., Mt. Lady's younger sister. But she's incredibly bitter because she couldn't make it into the hero course - because y/n doesn't have the same quirk as her older sister. She has the opposite - she shrinks until she's just six and a half inches tall and is chibi-fied. She HATES her quirk so much, but she wanted to go to U.A. anyway, at least so it'd look good on her application.

Izuku was naturally curious, which is why when he heard a student in the school was related to the pro hero, Mt.Lady. He made it his new mission to track them down, “This will be a great chance to take notes on how Mt.Lady’s quirk works and from someone who actually knows her!” he said to himself, notebook and pencil in hand ready to write down all he could.

Once he found you, after confirming with others that you were indeed Mt.Lady’s sister, he walked up to you. “H-Hi!” he said nervously, “My name is Izuku M-Midoriya a-and-” he suddenly stopped speaking when you turned around to face him. You were about to ask if he was okay when you saw his cheeks turning red. But decided against it when you noticed he began to back away from you.

Though you still saw him around, his face always buried in that book of his. He was always writing something down, this was true for the most part. However, you were unaware that as of late. Izuku was admiring you from a distance. Carefully studying your movements and thinking of how he could possibly talk to you again. You had caught his interest in more than one way but he felt as though he blew his first chance away.

In the meantime, in the comfort of his own dorm. He would sit at his desk with his notebook open. Carefully adding the finishing details to the several drawings he had made of you, “I c-couldn’t possibly tell her how I feel, could I? I mean it’s logical to like her but how would I even t-tell her?” he questioned out loud, could he even get near the sibling of a pro hero? He didn’t exactly like the idea of Mt.Lady coming after him.

Still, Izuku couldn’t help but want to get close to you. As a hero, he knew he had to swallow down his fears. So, he once more found you and though his heart was racing, he politely bowed. “I-I’m Izuku Midoriya, from uh, w-well, I’m sorry about the f-first time I t-tried to talk to you. But um,” he glanced away a moment, “Would you mind if I a-ask you for an i-interview? I’d like to k-know more about your quirk and m-maybe Mt.Lady’s?” though you didn’t like being constantly reminded of your sister, you found yourself agreeing to the interview.

Of course, it came as a surprise to Izuku that you claimed you hated your quirk. Unlike your sister, you could only shrink. But, watching Izuku shake his head and begin to disagree with you. That was new, “T-That’s amazing! You h-have such a t-tactical quirk! The possibilities of w-what you can do a-are endless!” he claimed as he quickly wrote down some that came to mind. You couldn’t help but laugh, was he joking?

But, come to find out. He wasn’t, in fact, he made it a point to show you his notes. Pages upon pages were filled with ideas on how to adapt your quirk for heroism. However, you weren’t expecting to see sketches of yourself. Though they weren’t that good, it was oddly flattering. When you asked Izuku about them, he only blushed in response. Frantically moving his arms around and stuttering out an explanation. You couldn’t help but laugh, suddenly he didn’t seem so strange.

There were many amazing and strange sights in this super powered world. But, by far the strangest thing you witnessed was a member of The Big Three walk straight into a locker. You thought his name was Amajiki and you had locked eyes with him in the hallway. As a result, the boy didn’t see the open locker and well...you decided to scurry away rather than apologize or make sure he was okay. 

But, what you didn’t know. Is that as shy as Tamaki is, he tended to share everything with his friends Mirio and Nejire. He talked about how he saw you in the hallway and how he couldn’t exactly look away. He left out the part about the locker. “Oh yeah! I know who she is, I think,” Mirio said as he looked to Nejire who smiled excitedly. “Her name is Y/n! Mt.Lady’s little sister, can you believe it!?” Tamaki’s eyes widened, oh God.

He was even more surprised when he found you were in General Studies, then again being a hero was too much pressure. All eyes on you, people cheering your name, it made him anxious just thinking about it. But, still. He wanted to at least try to talk to you, especially after you had locked eyes in the hallway. But every time he tried to say something to you. His stomach would twist into so many knots, it’d make him nauseous and he’d end up running away.

But, when he stared at you from a distance. He felt butterflies instead and his cheeks would turn red. Was it strange he found himself liking you? He had never really thought about someone as much as he did you, Mirio aside of course. Still, he wished he had the courage to talk to you. But he knew he would never and honestly, it made him feel like a bit of a failure. Why couldn’t he be brave like others?

Meanwhile, you felt bad you had made him walk into a locker. So you made it your goal to track him down and finally apologize, maybe get to know him. When you walked up to him, he had his back to you. Though you should have taken into account that when you reached up to touch his shoulder combined with a loud “Hey,” he would get scared. Though it was interesting to see his quirk slip and you couldn’t help but giggle as you saw his tentacles get stuck to the lockers.

From then on, he seemed to blush every single time he was near you. Though you had tried to strike up a casual conversation. The way Tamaki glanced down and stuttered out his words was almost too adorable for words. It was a privilege to slowly learn more about the timid Big Three member. Of course, you couldn’t resist reaching over to pat his head on occasion. He’d always look at you with those big indigo eyes and lean away.

Mirio always encouraged him to tell you how he felt, though Tamaki wasn’t sure if confessing was a good idea. Mostly because he couldn’t handle the thought of rejection. The fact that you were related to Mt.Lady was also a problem, he didn’t want you to think that he liked you because of your lineage. “I t-think I’m uh...f-fine liking t-them from a d-d-distance, I...I’m j-just, I-I’m happy if uh, w-we’re just friends,” he confessed, maybe one day he’d get you to see how he felt about you. But that day wasn’t today.

Mirio wasn’t sure how he didn’t know this, there had been talk of a transfer student. The rumor was that they had been placed in the Department of Support. When he asked around, he learned that they were transferred from another school because of their older sister who happened to be Mt.Lady. “Really? Wow, that must cool!” heck if Mirio had a sibling who was a pro hero he’d be psyched.

So of course, Mirio had to seek you out. After all, he couldn’t pass up meeting the new student. Of course, he had to ask around again and eventually found you in the Development Studio. “Hi, there! I heard you're the new transfer student! Name’s Mirio Togata! It’s nice to meet you!” of course he didn’t expect you to walk away as he extended his hand out. Hm, weird.

Still, your cold attitude wouldn’t make him stay away. In fact, Mirio made it his personal mission to get to know you. This means whenever he saw you, he’d walk over and plop down next to you. “Hi! I’m sorry if I offended you before, but I think you’re super cool and I’d totally like to get to know you!” he said with a big grin, of course, you were a little suspicious. But Mirio turned out to be a sweet guy and you ended up enjoying your conversation with him.

In fact, you accidentally slipped about your feelings relating to your sister. Honestly, you hated that people expected you to follow the same path or just wanted to be your friend because you were related to Mt.Lady “Hm, well that’s okay! I want to get to know you for you. Just know I’d never try to hurt you and hey if you want to be a hero! Cool, I’ll support you. If not, I’m here for you,” of course, he didn’t expect to make you laugh, but either way. He felt his heart skip a beat at the sound of it.

The more you hung out with him, the more you discovered how encouraging he could be. “Come on please! Just once! I’ve shown you my quirk, so, please. I promise I won’t make fun of it,” he said and you sighed, you honestly didn’t want to show him. But nonetheless, you shrunk down to your six and a half-inch stature and nearly gasped when Mirio picked you up in his hand, grinning like a mad man. “You’re so cute!” he commented and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, despite the fact you were blushing.

Still, you enjoyed Mirio’s company. Though you hadn’t expected him to ask you out, that was strange. “Aw, come on! Look!” Mirio grinned as he pulled out a bundle of flowers, you looked at them wide-eyed and confused. But nonetheless, reached out to take them. “Um thanks?” you replied before he grinned. “Of course! Anything for the gal I’ve been crazy about,” he said, nearly making you jump in surprise. 

Sharp Dressed Man | Stucky | Meet Cute | 2.1k words | Ao3

Summary: 

The curtain is pushed to the side and Steve automatically looks up. The man takes a step out of the cubicle. His head is turned as he looks over his shoulder to check himself in the mirror.

“Oh wow,” Steve breathes out despite himself.

A/N: This one is for my precious Helena @hbalbat​ based on a meet-cute prompt she's sent me. I'm not completely happy with it, especially the ending but hopefully that's just my sleep deprivation talking. Have fun! ♥

Also let's consider this my third entry for the @stuckybingo2020​ because it fits.

.

“OK, I might have overdone it.”

Steve looks up from where he’s going through a rack of t-shirts, each one with a more obnoxious print than the other. To his surprise there’s nobody around. After a moment he realises that the deep male voice must have come from one of the cubicles that serve as the shop’s dressing rooms.

“The suit’s nice but I think the turtleneck is a bit much for it.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, confused. Either the guy likes talking to himself or he came with someone who wandered off, instead of waiting for him to change. So Steve goes back to his search and he shakes his head a bit to himself, realising what the guy has said. Turtlenecks are ridiculous, Steve never liked them and usually they just look weird. On anyone. But pairing them with a suit? That’s a whole other level of ridiculous in Steve’s opinion.

The curtain is pushed to the side and Steve automatically looks up. The man takes a step out of the cubicle. His head is turned as he looks over his shoulder to check himself in the mirror.

“I think I’ll take the suit, though. My butt looks good in it,” the man laughs but then he fully turns towards Steve. The laugh dies on his lips. He looks around, a bit confused and then glances back at Steve.

“Oh wow,” Steve breathes out despite himself.

The thing is, the man in front of him is gorgeous. Unfairly so. He is almost as tall as Steve, his dark hair is long, pulled back into a messy bun, one strand falling onto his forehead. Steve fingers itch to brush it back behind his ear. The man’s eyes are bright and there’s a short stubble on his face that only makes him look hotter. He is wearing a dark brown suit that fits his body perfectly. But the weirdest thing? Underneath the suit jacket he has a bright, mustard-y yellow turtleneck and it really shouldn’t work on anyone. But the man looks good. It makes Steve feel a bit weak in the knees.

“Oh,” the man blinks at Steve, his cheeks going pink. “You’re not Natasha.”

Steve mentally slaps himself across the head. There’s nothing better than to drool at the sight of a random man in a clothing store. A straight man, probably. With a possible girlfriend, if Steve wanted to jump to conclusions and he usually did.

“No, I’m not, I’m just Steve, sorry. I just—Looking for—T-shirts—” Steve says, not really sure where he is going with that. “Your girlfriend must’ve wandered off somewhere.”

Not being able to look at the man's face without embarrassing himself further, Steve glances somewhere above his shoulder. His eyes land on the mirror in the changing room and he sees that his entire face is bright red. Way to go, Steve.

"My girlfriend?" the man asks, raising a brow in confusion. "Oh you mean Tasha? She's not… I'm not…"

The man averts his gaze and rubs at his neck, looking rather uncomfortable and Steve really wishes he picked a different store. But on the other hand, if he did he would never have seen this man and it would be a shame. A real shame. No matter how much of an idiot he's making of himself right now, it is kind of worth it if he gets to look at this gorgeous human for a bit longer. This guy could easily be a model. Or maybe he is, Steve wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. Steve is an artist. He can appreciate beauty. And there is so much beauty to appreciate in this man. 

So much beauty.

Steve wonders how weird it would be to ask if the man wanted to pose for him. Steve has already embarrassed himself plenty already so it wouldn’t hurt any more.

“Shit,” the man says to himself with a breathy laugh. He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to—,” he waves his hand vaguely between them and laughs again. “I just thought my friend will be useful for once and give me her opinion but apparently she just left me in the lurch.”

“For what it’s worth—you look incredible,” Steve says, sincerely. He can’t stop his eyes from wandering down the man’s body and then back up. “It—Really suits you.”

To Steve’s surprise he doesn’t get punched for—quite obviously—checking the guy out. It could be because of his size—it usually discourages people from trying to fight him, even though they sometimes want to. Like when he tells them that being racist, misogynist or a homophobe is a very fucking bad thing to be, for example. But the man doesn’t even look like he wants to punch Steve. Quite the contrary, a small smirk appears on his face. He tilts his head to the side and straightens up with confidence, even though his cheeks are still a bit pink.

“You think so? It’s not too much?” the man asks, apparently not noticing that Steve’s about to die.

“It’s great. You look great. And that’s coming from someone who despises turtlenecks,” Steve hopes that his smile is sincere, maybe even a little flirty and not as nervous as he feels.

The guy raises an eyebrow in response and he glances down before saying, “That’s fair. I don’t think there’s a turtleneck big enough to contain all of these muscles anyway. And it would be really unfair to hide those collarbones of yours.”

Automatically, Steve looks down where the two top buttons of his Henley are left open and it takes him a second to fully understand what the man just said. Is he being flirted with? Is the most attractive person he’s ever seen flirting with him? When Steve looks back up, the man’s eyes are already fixed on him, his smirk bigger and definitely more amused now.

OK, maybe Steve was too quick with labelling the man as straight. Or at least he hopes he was.

“I’m Bucky,” the man offers. Despite the fact that it’s a rather unique name—or nickname, who knows—Steve finds it quite fitting. “And you’re Steve, if I got that correctly?”

Steve nods with a smile, not really sure at which point of his mumbling he managed to introduce himself. For a moment they just stare at each other. Steve is not sure whether he wants to run or get significantly closer to the man. To Bucky, he reminds himself. Before he can do either of those things, Bucky shakes his head slightly and blinks.

“Right,” he says, taking a step back. He points his thumb at the changing room behind him and smiles. “I’d better—Gonna change and—Thanks for your opinion, Steve. You’re very—helpful.”

When Bucky turns away and grabs the curtain, Steve decides to take a chance. After all he was never the one to back down from a challenge.

“Hey, Bucky?” he calls.

With his hand curled around the curtain, Bucky looks over his shoulder at Steve. “Yeah?”

“Your butt looks really good in that suit.”

The curtain flutters close but Steve still can hear Bucky’s melodic laugh. He grins to himself.

And that’s when a small, redheaded woman walks over to the changing rooms and raises one of her perfect eyebrows at Steve.

“James? What are you wearing that makes a hot stranger compliment your ass?” she says with her eyes still trained on Steve as she reaches to grab the curtain behind which Bucky has just disappeared.

And that’s when Steve decides it’s his time to run.

Steve wanders around the mall for another hour or so. For some reason, he feels reluctant to walk into any other clothing store. It might be because he is worried he’d bump into Bucky again and embarrass himself further or it might just be trauma. It’s not ideal. Especially because his main goal of coming here was to buy some clothes so Sam would stop complaining about his “grandpa wardrobe”. Which is an obvious exaggeration, it’s not that bad. And Sam owns his fair share of khakis and checkered button-ups, so he is in no position to judge. But Steve figured that buying a new pair of jeans, some t-shirts and maybe a jacket won’t hurt. 

Instead, he goes to a stationery shop and walks out with a new set of pencils and a sketchbook. The one he has is already half full anyway. Nearby, there’s a bookstore and Steve saunters between the shelves for a while, picking up whatever book catches his eye. He doesn’t really intend to buy anything but in the end he gets a sci-fi novel he wanted to read for a while but hasn't gotten to yet.

Steve would totally consider it a successful trip to the mall and called it a day. Sadly, he can imagine Sam laughing at his mumbled explanation as to why he didn't buy any clothes. So instead of going home, he decides to grab a coffee and then try to face the clothing store again. It can’t be that hard. 

Rounding the corner, Steve collides with someone coming in the opposite direction. Automatically, he grabs the other person’s arm to help them regain their balance.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t—” Steve starts and looks up. Just as quickly, he completely forgets what he was meaning to say next.

It’s Bucky.

Bucky’s standing barely two feet away. His eyes are some kind of stormy blue and there are freckles splattered across his nose and part of his cheeks. Looking at him from this close is making it hard to breathe for Steve.

When recognition dawns on him, a smile blooms on Bucky’s face, “Hi, Steve!”

“Hi,” Steve just answers weakly. Only now he realises that his hand is still wrapped around Bucky’s bicep—a very nice bicep, Steve can feel the muscle hidden underneath Bucky’s layers of clothing and tries not to think about it too hard—and takes a step back, putting down his hand.

Obviously, Bucky is not in the outfit he had at the store but he still looks like he'd walked straight out of a fashion magazine. Now he's wearing a black button-up with little white dots all over it and a black leather jacket. His bun is even messier, several loose strands tucked behind his ear, but he still looks as attractive as before. Or maybe Steve is just biased.

"Fancy bumping into you again," Bucky says, seeming genuinely happy.

"You too," Steve finally gets a grip on himself and smiles. "Did you buy the suit?"

Bucky chuckles at that, blushing, "I did, actually. The turtleneck, too. Your…um, feedback was very helpful. Tasha approved, too." He glances to his side and furrows his brows. Turning around in a full circle, he looks back at Steve. "And apparently she ditched me again. I swear I'm not making her up!"

"I believe you, I've seen her back in the store," Steve assures him with a laugh. "Petite redhead, very intense stare?"

"Sounds like Natasha. She's great, at least when she's not busy abandoning me in shopping malls. Did you get whatever you needed? I didn't see you around when I left the changing room."

Tilting his head to the side, Steve just stares for a moment. Did that mean Bucky looked for him? The thought makes his insides twist in a slightly uncomfortable but pleasant way. Steve tries not to get his hopes up. The pink tinge on Bucky's cheeks doesn't help with that.

"Not really, couldn't find anything fitting," Steve says. 

It's not exactly a lie, he just doesn't add that he was too embarrassed to face Bucky after complimenting his butt. Bucky opens his mouth, then closes it and bites the inside of his cheek, deciding against whatever he wanted to say. Steve raises an eyebrow at him. "What?" he asks.

"Nothing," Bucky says. "Just trying not to say something highly inappropriate again to a guy I don't really know."

The hope flutters in Steve's stomach, making him grin. At this point he's pretty confident that his initial assessment of Bucky was wrong. So he feels bold enough to ask, "You know, I was actually on my way to grab a coffee. Maybe you'd like to join me?"

"Sure, that would be nice," Bucky smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling adorably. 

Steve might be a bit gone already. 

"I'm still not gonna say, though. If that's your plan," Bucky adds and before Steve can say anything, he smirks. "It's gonna take more than one coffee to break me."

And this sounds like a challenge Steve's determined to win.“

.

Title: Sharp Dressed Man Creator(s): niallhoranbitches Card number: 065 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961397 Square filled: E2 - Muscles Rating: Teen and Up Archive warnings: None Major tags: Meet Cute, No Powers AU Summary: The curtain is pushed to the side and Steve automatically looks up. The man takes a step out of the cubicle. His head is turned as he looks over his shoulder to check himself in the mirror.

“Oh wow,” Steve breathes out despite himself. Word count: 2118

How I Met Your Mother Father: Haikyū Edition! | 2

Ft. Oikawa / Iwaizumi / Ushijima / Tendo / Semi

Summary: How you met your husband-o! Warnings: I took creative liberties regarding Ushijima’s story and how the Olympics work. Also I’m sleepy and going back in and editing my mistakes. :)

Part 1: Ft. Kuroo / Bokuto / Akaashi / Yaku Part 3: Ft. Daichi / Sugawara / Asahi / K. Ukai

-

Oikawa Toru

You and Oikawa met in university. You were studying for a degree in Kinesiology & Sport Science and your goal was to get into Sports Medicine and work for one of the National or Olympic teams.

It was by chance you joined the men’s volleyball team as their manager. You originally gunned for track and field, but a mishap with your train pass at the station made you late for sign ups.

On your first day of practice you arrived early to get a head start on things - ordering uniforms, getting sports drinks ready, gathering clean towels. You were coming back from the laundry room when a ball was headed straight for you. Fear reached your knees decided to lock them in place so your first instinct was to block, holding your palms out, but the sheer force and velocity caused your hands and the ball to be thrown back, still smacking you in the face and quite literally knocking you off your feet.

Lying there, you wanted the gym floor to open up and swallow you whole.

“Are you ok?! I’m so sorry!” Eyes fluttering open, you looked up into brown eyes, wide with worry.

“Well boys, this is your first year team manager. Oikawa! I thought I told you first years to stop showing off! Take responsibility and help her to the nurse’s office. When you come back you’ll be doing flying laps until I say stop,” the coach yelled, blowing a whistle and signaling the start of practice.

He picked you up easily in his arms, some of the boys who were out of earshot of the coach whistling at him. Now that you weren’t lying on the ground and he wasn’t so close in your face, you could really take in his features and god was he handsome. You really did wish the ground had swallowed you whole.

The nurse flashed a light in your eyes. “Well, you’re definitely going to have a bruise.”

“You don’t have to stay with me,” you told told Oikawa as the nurse looked you over for signs of concussion.

“I feel bad; I just want to make sure you’re ok,” he reasoned, giving you his most charming smile.

“If you feel bad, then you can make it up to me later instead of using me to stall facing your punishment.”

“It’s a deal. No take backs, my cute manager,” he sang, quickly escaping before you could rebut.

And that’s how you ended up going on a date with Oikawa Toru and marrying a year after he went pro.

Iwaizumi Hajime

You sighed, resting your chin in your hand as you watched Iwaizumi from across the library. While most girls at school fawned over Oikawa, you were absolutely smitten with his best friend.

Letting your shoulders drop, you turned back to your textbook, tapping your pencil eraser to the tip of your nose as you bit down on your lower lip, clueless that the boy who’d invaded your thoughts had noticed you.

Months later and graduation was today and it was official. You’d spent the whole year pining for a boy you’d never ever spoken to. In a month you’d be starting college and hopefully someone new would catch your eye.

The summer wasn’t exciting. You spent your time packing for Tokyo and wandering around town, hoping to catch even a glimpse of Iwaizumi in passing; no luck.

You were starting classes at UTokyo in a few weeks for two degrees in Creative Writing and Publishing. You wanted to write stories and if you couldn’t do that then you wanted to help people get their stories out there.

First day of classes were incredible. Everything was interesting and you were reignited with a new sense of excitement. You’d almost forgotten about why you were so mopey before.

It was Wednesday and you were on your way off campus to find lunch when you felt your heart skip. There he was just across the courtyard; Iwaizumi.

Was he seriously here too? Gripping your hands tightly around your book bag, you considered your options.

New school.

New city.

New you.

Right?

Breathing steady, you quickly crossed the courtyard. The closer you got the stiffer your body felt and the more your hands shook until you couldn’t walk anymore. Your feet were glued in place and you watched as Iwaizumi walked right past you.

Dammit.

As weeks passed it was like high school all over again. Now that you’d seen him once, he seemed to be popping up everywhere and it was driving you mad. You even saw him at a coffee shop off campus the other day.

You sat in the library, studying for your first exam. Nervously, you bounced your restless leg as you tapped your pencil’s eraser against your forehead, frustrated.

Things were supposed to be different.

You barely registered when someone sat next to you.

“If you aren’t careful, you’ll leave a mark on your face.”

Your face flushed and you dropped your pencil; that’s Iwaizumi’s voice. Almost mechanically, you turned your head and met his gaze.

He sat with his body turned toward you, arm propped up at the elbow with his cheek resting on his fist.

“I wasn’t sure it was you, but now I’m positive,” he said, smiling at you. Smiling at you. You’d only ever dreamed.

“You know... who I am?”

“Well yeah, we went high school for three years together.” His voice was teasing and everything you ever wished for. “I was always busy with school and volleyball, I never gave myself a chance to talk to you.”

“You wanted to talk to me?”

“I might have seen you looking at me a few times.” There it goes. Called out. You were a stuttering mess. There was no way you could play it off now. 

Letting you flounder a bit more, he rested his hand on your bouncing knee, sending a jolt of electricity through you, and that expression on his face told you he might have felt it too.

“(Y/N) why don’t we go out and we can catch up for lost time?”

And that was how you and Iwaizumi Hajime became inseparable ever since, marrying a few years after starting your careers after college.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

The Olympics were almost every athlete’s dream.

You were raised to play, eat, breathe, and dream gold.

Gold medals that is.

All your life you’d been on national teams and qualified for the Youth Olympics in Track and Field at 14.

Now, four years later, you were off to the actual Olympics. You were boarding the plane to London for athletes who were heading over early. It was a long flight with a layover in Turkey.

Dressed in leggings, your Team Japan Olympic sweatshirt, and slipping on a pair of comfy house shoes you wore specifically on planes, you snuggled into your window seat, gazing through the small frame of glass.

You snapped out of it when you felt someone sit in the seat beside you. Turning, you felt your jaw slack slightly at the large and fit build seated right next to you.

Okay, full disclosure, you were boy crazy deep inside. Your parents didn’t allow dating and drilled into you that boys were just a distraction from your dreams.

“Go for gold. Boys come later.”

But holy shit. He was looking right at you too. Oh my god, was he talking to you? What was he saying?!

Oh right.

Smiling, you reached up and removed your earbuds. “Sorry, what was that?”

“My seatbelt.”

You felt your mouth run dry. His voice. Was life serious right now?!

“Sorry,” you laughed lightly, reaching under your thigh for the belt strap, handing it to him. You might have handed it to him in a way so that your hands touched on purpose. Maybe you didn’t. All you knew was that you wanted to keep talking to him and you definitely wanted to touch him.

“Thanks,” he spoke simply, buckling in before facing forward.

 Okay, you mouthed silently, straightening up in your seat. Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, you turned to him again. “I’m (Y/F/N), Olympic Track and Field.”

He turned to look at you. “Ushijima Wakatoshi. Volleyball.”

A man of few words? “You know, I think I recognize you now.”

“We were featured in the same article in Number last month.” His voice was blunt.

Your eyes widened. “Wow! You remembered what article we were both in?”

He didn’t respond, but by god, he just said more than just three words to you and it was a full sentence. You gave a few more tries at making conversation, but he had no response. With a sigh, you shrunk into your seat and put your earbuds in.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but you were awakened by a jerking and shaking motion. An arm was wrapped tightly around you as the cabin continued to shake and rattle.

A ding sounded and the captain made an announcement: “Sorry passengers, but we’re currently experiencing some turbulence. We’ll be adjusting our flight pattern. Please stay seated with seatbelts fastened.”

The hand on your arm tightened, but you were tucked tightly into his side to where you couldn’t adjust your head to look at Ushijima’s face. Reaching over, you placed one of your hands on top of his and he adjusted to hold your hand tightly, as your other arm stretched across his torso, holding onto him.

Even when the plane moved into less turbulent air space, he continued to hold onto you and eventually you slept again.

He woke you up when you landed in Turkey and asked if you’d spend the layover with him in the airport while some of the other athletes left to explore. Though most of the conversation was one sided with you talking and him listening, there was a connection and when you finally made him laugh, you knew you wanted to always be the reason for his smiles.

When you finally reached London, you spent as much time as possible with one another before the events began; morning runs in the city, sightseeing, eating meals together, taking tons of photos together.

You’d won gold in the 500 meter. The volleyball team won bronze.

When the both of you finally returned home to Japan, the two of you stayed in contact as more than just friends, but he’d never label your relationship out loud.

That’s how you and Ushijima Wakatoshi, medal winning Olympians, ended up together, keeping your relationship on the down low and out of the press for two years and marrying just before the next Olympic Games.

Tendo Satori

As far as you were concerned, Tendo was an insensitive goof.

You had known him since you were babies, your mothers were best friends, and by god he was the most annoying force to ever appear in your life. Your childhood was filled with plenty of hair pulling and teasing.

It was embarrassing when girls started growing breasts and you were still flat as a board. His teasing was unrelenting. And when you finally grew some semblance of breasts? You didn’t even want to get started on that nightmarish period of life.

When high school came around, he was like a second shadow to you, never far. It was irritating, but you tolerated it.

He wasn’t an idiot, managing to also get into Shiratorizawa. He also knew when you were reaching your limit with him and he’d instantly change his behavior, turning into the sweet and gentle boy you first knew.

Hell, you even welcomed his attention at this point. There weren’t any other boys looking your way. As soon as you’d start talking to a guy, the next day they’d avoid you like the plague.

He was your best friend.

You hated him.

You loved him.

Second year didn’t seem to be any different from first year. Valentines Day came around and a boy you’d been crushing on rejected your chocolates. It was absolutely embarrassing.

You studied in the library, keeping yourself mentally preoccupied, while waiting patiently for Tendo to walk you home after school, you only hoped his practice didn’t run late like normal.

You heard girls whispering about your rejection earlier. It was so hard to not just break into tears. You’d been holding them in all day.

After a couple hours, you slammed your book shut, temporarily stopping the whispers while you packed and left, waiting for Tendo outside of the school gates.

“Hey washboard!” came his cheery voice.

Biting your lip, you kept your head down as you walked with him down the street. You hadn’t made it ten steps before stopping, trying to hold in your sobs. Reaching into your bag, you pulled out your thoughtfully wrapped rejected box of sweets and held it out to him.

“Weren’t you going to give these to that Suzukita guy on the swim team? Chicken out?” He turned the box over in his hands.

Balling your hands into fists, you snatched the box back from him. “Look Sato, if you don’t want them then just say so!”

He took a better look at your face, noticing streaks of tears down your face. With a small growl, he snatched them back before tearing into the box, eating a couple of pieces. “I didn’t say I didn’t want them!”

Shoulders trembling, you let yourself cry freely.

Tendo frowned, brows furrowed in worry. Stuffing the chocolates into his bag, he held your hand, pulling you along with him and walking you home silently. No jokes. No teasing. Just the sweet boy who always made you hold his hand when you were toddlers.

Your troubles weren’t over just yet though. White Day came along and you weren’t ready for the horror show of feeling alone again.

The day was uneventful. You hardly spoke to anyone. Even your girl friends avoided you so they didn’t accidentally make you feel bad.

White Day was lonely and it sucked.

Thankfully, the day didn’t drag out and Tendo didn’t have practice, just a quick team meeting, so you waited at the front gates like normal.

“(Y/N)! Ready to go home?” he asked, ruffling your hair.

You shrugged, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to fix it.

“Hey.” He caught your wrist, gaining your full attention. Holding out his hand, he offered you a small white box with a white ribbon. “Here.”

Carefully, you accepted, removing the ribbon and handing it to him. You opened the box and a small smile made its way onto your face. Marshmallow chocolates. You got them once when you were little from your dad. You shared them with Tendo and hadn’t had them again since.

“Thanks, Satori,” you whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

He reached forward and grabbed a lock of your hair, clumsily braiding it before tying the end with the white ribbon from the box.

Reaching down, he took your hand, walking you home. As the two of you walked, the hand holding yours began to fidget. Glancing over you watched as he slipped a white beaded bracelet from his wrist onto yours.

Stopping, you let go of his hand to look at it. Peeking up at him, you caught the faint blush on his cheeks before looking at the hand made kid’s bracelet carefully.

SATORI <3 (Y/N)

“Sato...”

“It’s true. I... I love you, (Y/N).”

And that’s how you and Tendo Satori ended up attached to each other for life, getting engaged after high school and marrying after college.

Semi Eita

“What can I get you?”

Those were the first words you ever spoke to him. He was dressed casually and brooding at the bar you worked.

At night, you worked at one of the many tiny bars in Shinjuku’s Golden Gai, a huge tourist trap, and during the day you were a student at Bunka Fashion College.

He wasn’t much of a talker and wore an unmovable scowl, but he bought drinks all night and didn’t bother you unlike the other customers.

You were surprised when he showed up again the next night, and the night after that, and again after that.

When he stepped into your tiny bar for the sixth day in a row, on a Monday night, it was almost automatic the way you moved, pouring him a whiskey before setting the glass and bottle down in front of him.

It was pretty quiet tonight. And late. There wasn’t a ton of activity. In fact, your only other customer left within the next thirty minutes, leaving you and Mr. Serious alone.

“Let me know if you want something different for a change,” you said, laying out some books on the counter before hopping over the bar and taking a seat at one of the eight stools - the only seating in the whole place.

“What are you reading?” His voice surprised you. Honestly, you almost forgot he was there.

“Ah, it’s for one of my classes. History of sewing, basically. Kind of boring, but they say I have to learn it,” you shrugged, laughing a little.

“Where do you go?”

You smiled at him in a teasing matter, holding a finger up to your lips. “Can you keep a secret?”

He quirked a brow. “Promise.”

“Hmm... I guess I can trust you,” you teased, “I go to Bunka. Students aren’t supposed to have jobs so my life’s in your hands, okay?”

He scoffed, masking a laugh that almost escaped him. “Sure.”

From that night forward this was a common theme. He’d stay late and when it was just the two of you left, you’d have deep conversations and talk about anything and everything either of you could think of.

You learned quite a bit about him.

He was a musician in a band and a civil servant.

He was stressed about some projects he was working on, which was why he started coming to the bar.

He liked “your calm energy” and how you didn’t bother him; that’s why he kept coming back.

He played volleyball in school and was a setter.

His favorite food was tekka maki.

He was a Scorpio.

His friend used to tease him a lot in high school about how he looked in clothes so now he tried to be more conscious of how he dressed.

Soon your relationship evolved from just bartender-patron. He was inviting you to his concerts and asking to see you during your time between school and work.

You recalled him mentioning wanting to find a new casual jacket that didn’t make him look weird, so you spent a few days in your design class making him a jean jacket you thought would flatter him.

He met you outside of the school building one evening - the two of you had plans to go to a night market for dinner and try the different stalls. It was supposed to be chilly so it was the perfect time for you to give it to him.

“Semi! Here, this is for you,” you said, holding out a simple gift bag to him. You literally finished today, applying some patches and last minute details. “Go ahead and open it.”

“(Y/N)... This is exactly what I was looking for.” His normally grumpy expression was softer as he held it up, examining it. He noted there wasn’t a tag and he was pretty sure there was the tiniest bit of blood on the collar. “Did you really make this for me?”

You stuttered, “I-I know y-you were having a hard time finding something you liked so I thought you deserved something you wanted.”

“I... deserve what I want?” he repeated, looking you in the eye.

A blush flared across your cheeks. “Well... Yeah.”

He paused, taking in your face and how different you looked when you were flustered. “I want to date you, exclusively.”

And that’s how you became the musician Semi Eita’s girlfriend, marrying a year later.

Devil’s Sweet Star (5)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

The days are the same and fortunately for you, no further attempted aggression has been committed on you. But it's not the police you have to thank for that, but just yourself. Because when you tried to file a complaint against your attacker, all the police were able to tell you was that there was nothing they could do. Because as you bear no stigma, no trace of blow ... there would be no point in filing a complaint. You sigh just by thinking about it, decidedly the mentality of some police officers will always surprise you. You really wonder what criteria they are recruited on.  

While you were serving a few clients, your gaze was slowly moving towards Jed, leaning over those drafts blackened by his pencil. God he’s beautiful when he is focused... something about him attracts you when he's in that state. But now is not the time to be lost in your thoughts! Let's stay professional first! you walk towards him a tea in hand that you lay on the table, bringing him out of his concentration. He gave you a smile, that angelic smile that could melt all hearts. We remain professional I said!

“I think it'll do you the greatest good, three coffees in a row could turn you into a ball of nerve. always immersed in your research about this ... Hoggins?” You said looking down to the papers.

“Yeah, I need to know a couple of things about him for this reception...so I could more easily slip into the crowd and rummage through his stuff without him noticing anything. Can you imagine if I find anything compromising about this story? This will create the biggest scandal this city... this state has never known.” he responds with some enthusiasm.

“You could also be killed so no one knows. That Hoggins is a very influent man. He could hire someone to kill you and your peers, like that bastard... Forget it. I can’t believe what the police told me... What are they waiting for? that I'm dying to act?”  

“This the reason why I rather fend for myself and solve problems in my own way. and that's what I plan to do with Mike. he thinks he can belittle me and hit me with impunity, he is seriously mistaken. I'll take the time it takes, but one day I'll give him back the blows he'll take from me.” He replies putting his glasses back.  

“Well, not so shy as I thought after all.”

“I am someone who interacts with people based on how they act with me. If they put me lower than earth ... I do the same.”  

He sipped his tea while putting a little order on the table. You can't help but look at his piercing blue eyes, so attractive, that's what makes all his charm, his major asset. When they stared at you, you feel your cheeks blush slightly and with a little embarrassed laugh, you get up and start heading to the counter ready to welcome new customers.

“You know...” Jed starts making you stop and turn to him. “I was thinking... that you could go with me to this reception. If I say you're with me, I don't think it's going to be a problem.” he said with a little smile.  

“What?? Me?? Jed I... It’s really nice of you but...I’m not a journalist and even less a girl from high society. I wouldn't feel like I belong there. And then I might embarrass you in your work...I don’t know if it’s a really good idea.” you answer putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why not? I'm going to have a good night at this reception too. But knowing Melina and Mattew, they're going to go their own way and leave me alone lost in the middle of people I don't know. So, if I can share it with a friend... And chat with someone I like and know... I'd rather you came.”  

“Well...okay. Thanks Jed. I appreciate that you've thinking about me.”

The door opened and a woman entered the café. Given the outfit she was wearing, she was either working in the office or she was a businesswoman. But a horrible thrill pierced you when you saw in the distance Mc Kellan a smile on the corner. Whoever this woman is, this scumbag knows her for sure.

“Are you the owner of The Nebula?” said the woman by looking around her.

“Yes. Can I help you?” you answer a little worried.

“Let me introduce myself: Mrs Alice Milton. Hygiene inspector. Mr. Kellan has informed me that you are not complying with certain health measures and I am here to check. You don't mind, do you?

“No... Not at all.” you said, trying to stay calm.  

Mrs Milton began to do his inspection. She checked every table, every seat, every window. No object escaped his gaze. Then she went to the back shop to check the reserves and worktops. She wrote down two or three things on her notebook and went on.

You observe her, the fear in your stomach, trembling slightly to the simple fact that she could make fall the cleaver on you. You suddenly feel a hand resting on your shoulder, it was Jed's. He gave you a big smile to reassure you, calm your fears and make you understand that whatever she says, he will help you.

Mrs. Milton put away her belongings without saying a word, then left the café to go to McKellan. From the counter you could see them chatting, Mc Kellan didn't look happy and the young woman tried to calm him down. You'd like to be a pigeon or a fly to find out what they're telling each other.

Suddenly you see Mc Kellan driving away without Mrs. Milton. This one came back to the café but for some reason, you feel more comfortable...as if she were just becoming a customer like the others. And this was confirmed when she smiled at you, a reassuring smile, a friendly smile.  

“You can breathe now, he's gone. I'm sorry I did this with you. But I had to stay professional in front of him. You are not Horace's first victim. Can I?” She said, looking at Jed’s table.  

“Sure.” Jed simply said.

“You look like... not to appreciate him either.” you said while keeping your distance.

“Not really. Horace trusts very few people. He's a very selfish man. Who wants to impose his laws and his manners on everyone. and as soon as someone dares to oppose him... He's calling on me to ‘make the vermin flow’. As I said, you’re not the first one on his list, and you won’t be the last.”

“I have no doubt about that. Coffee?” you ask her before filling her a cup when she nodded. “What did you say to him? Outside.”

“That I found nothing. And as always, he was upset. I said I'll continue my search...But don’t worry I won't do anything. On the other hand, be careful, He’s not likely to give up so easily. And if he gets more upset, he'll make you killing and throwing in Dry Creek.”

Jed says nothing but Danny burns internally, if someone has the right to kill you...It’s him and ONLY him. That's one more reason to kill McKellan. This guy is not only dangerous for you, but for Danny's reputation. There can only be one killer here and Danny is not the type to share the scene. Danny has no choice. He has to get rid of Mc Kellan first. Mike can wait a bit.  

“What can I do?” you ask worried.  

“Do nothing toward him. Everything you do, he’ll turn it against you. And he’ll get what he wants. I suggest you to protect yourself. Or at least not to be alone in case he'll send you another assailant. Always have something to defend yourself. Or someone.” said Mrs Milton.

You nodded and after a few minutes of conversation, Mrs Milton leaves the coffee, wishing you good luck. You clean Jed's table, who was tidying up his belongings, getting ready to leave. He wrote something on a sheet which he handed you with a little smile. You tilt your head to the side, an eyebrow raised.

“My phone number, in case you’ll need something. Or just want to talk.” He said.  

“Jed come on...I can...” you start to answer before seeing he’s insisting. You sight, taking the sheet on your hand. “Fine...Thanks Jed. I’ll owe you one. More than one in fact.”

“I know you’ll help me someday. So, don’t worry. Oh and... I love your praline and coconut cake. A strange but very interesting mix.” he said before leaving, weaving his hand with that angelic smile on his face.

The rest of the day took place and it must be admitted that it was quite sporty. It's hard to handle so many people on your own. But until you have some financial stability, you can't hire someone at the moment. After your usual closing ritual, you go home. Next goal:  buys a pepper spray or a small knife, just in case.

You pick up your mail and go back to your apartment. What a relief to finally be at home. You put your belongings on the couch, the letters in a bowl dedicated to your mail and you head to the kitchen. Family's photos decorated some walls of the apartment reviving wonderful memories... But also, painful wounds. Homemade carbonara pasta for the evening will suit perfectly. it is rare that you take industrial products. As you put all the ingredients on the worktop, the phone rang.

Who can call you at this hour? You don't remember giving someone your landline number since you arrived. You ignore the call and go back to your business when it rang again. Someone's really trying to reach you. You take the handset of the phone determined to know who can call you at this time. Every time, it's a number error.

“Hello? Who’s on the phone?” you said.

“Oh. You're not my aunt. Sorry I got the wrong number.” respond the other person on the phone.  

Jackpot.

“It doesn't matter, it happens to everyone. Good night.” you replied as start to hang up.  

“Wait, wait!  Can... can we talk a little bit more? I never heard such a beautiful voice like yours before.”  

“Quite a charmer, are you? Well, if you want. if it can make you happy.” You answer with a little laugh.

“Thanks. It's rare for people who take the time to chat with strangers on the phone. Usually, they hang up immediately or never respond. Nice shirt by the way.”  

" well, it's usually rare to answer numbers that...” You start before realizing what he said last. “excuse me...What did you just say?”

“I said nice shirt. Purple suits you well.”

“H-how do you know that?”  

“... Raise your head.”

You gradually raise your head and face the building in front of yours. In the window that faced yours, you see him. A man with a white mask was there, tilting his head waving his hand to say hello.

“See me now?” He chuckles.

“Who the f*** are you ??” You respond even if you already know the answer.  

“What a lovely language...Well, I'm sure you already know the answer but if you insist. You can call me: Ghostface. I think I'm gonna call you...”

“what do you want?”

“Just talk. As I said, I never heard such a beautiful voice before...and never see such a pretty face like yours too.”

“call a prostitute if you want to chat, you freaking weirdo.” You replied ready to hang up.

“Tsk tsk. No no no my little star...if you hang up...you won’t see the sun rise tomorrow. Or your dear nerdy friend won’t see it.”

“Leave Jed alone! It’s between you and me! if you dare to touch him, I swear...” you say angrily before hearing him laugh.  

“Calm down my sweet little star... The truth is, I don't intend to touch him. It is thanks to him that I have acquired this beautiful but sinister reputation. He makes me the star of Roseville. We need each other. But let's talk about you. I must admit that I find it difficult to understand how such beauty as you live in such city. You must have a good reason.”

“It’s none of your business. I can ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I want to leave a trace in this miserable world. I want everyone remember my name. But for that I have to move across all the country. You know what? I'm going to let you live for now. But I advise you not to tell the police about our little conversation. It will pain me a lot to disfigure such a pretty face ... and a pretty body. And don't worry, we'll meet again. Good night my sweet little star... Have a beautiful dream.” He said chuckling before hanging up.  

You hang up the phone on the table and when you look back at the window, he was gone. Like a shadow in the night. You take a deep breathe, rubbing your face in your hands and sit on the sofa. Deep down, you felt that sooner or later you would face him. But not so quickly. Fortunately for you, he is not determined to make you a new victim of his macabre round. But for how long? you hope for as late as possible.

Unknowingly, my dear little star you fell into the spider's web. Without knowing it you have caught the attention of the devil.  

And that's just the beginning.

***

(Done! I'm glad to see you like it! And I hope it will continue! By the way I recently watched The Boy and discovered that dear Brahms~ And I must confess that he does not leave me indifferent. What a lovely British accent he has~ See ya! )  

Green Day Deals with the "Rock Star" Dookie 

by Tom Lanham 

(First appeared in BAM Magazine, March 10, 1995)

 Young, loud, and snotty equals beaucoup bucks? What pencil-pushing, graph-charting trend spotter could've predicted it? But the facts speak for themselves: As of late February, Dookie--the brattish, snap 'n' snarl Reprise salvo from Berkeley's sloppy punk trio, Green Day--has sold six million copies. Six million. Chances are, somebody on your block is jumping up and down in his living room at this very moment to the scrap-metal power chords and ardent apathy of "Longview," "Burnout," "Basket Case," or "When I Come Around" and getting lost in the teen abandon of these testy 22-year-olds--weasel-voiced, Montgomery-Clift-like charismatic singer/guitarist Billie Joe; tom-tom tribal percussionist Tre Cool (of the ever-morphing hair-color fame); and bassist Mike Dirnt (who survived Green Day's appearance at Woodstock '94, although several of his teeth did not). 

Yes, punk rock is a marketable phenomenon these days, leaving many involved with the music's initial late-'70s, early-'80s wave scratching their heads, wondering why it didn't take the first time around. Public reaction started as curiosity ("Hey, honey, c'mere and lookit these goofy, green-haired little whippersnappers in an insane asylum on MTV!"), but spiraled up to rock-diet necessity (Green Day just won Grammy and they're nominated for quite a few Bammies as well, including such categories as Outstanding Group, Outstanding Album, and Outstanding Song--"Longview" and "Basket Case"). The fact that they've been nominated at all probably sends a shiver up the old dinosaur backbones of Eddie Money, Huey Lewis, and Boz Scaggs, a time-creepy feeling of "Gee, what the hell do we do now?" Because this isn't just some flash-in-the-pan punk movement, folks--this is a youth movement; Green Day are, as they hiply term it, "bored in the 'burbs," and reaching out, through TV and radio, like some prodigal preachers to other American kids who sense the same slacker ennui. Obviously, we're talking truckloads of kids. 

Ironically, the more fame edges into the Green Day ruffians' lives, the more mature they seem to become. They've turned down all interview requests as of late, even People magazine, preferring to lay low until this tide of interest recedes. Billie Joe got married last autumn, and spent his honeymoon--not in any exotic, expensive locale--but in Berkeley's grand old Claremont Hotel. Cool recently became a father, and Billie Joe's child is due any day now. It's a responsibility they've both eagerly undertaken. Rob Cavallo, the boys' coproducer and A&R man at Reprise, swears they're "old souls, the smartest young kids I've ever met." It rings true. 

The first time I spoke with Green Day, in January of '94, Cool, Dirnt, and Billie Joe were lazing around their dingy basement apartment in Berkeley, sitting on chairs and couches with potentially painful springs poking through. Rock 'n' roll bubblegum cards were scattered across a coffee table, along with several bongs of various sizes, plus a four-and-a-half foot red plastic pipe dubbed "Bongzilla" leaned against a doorway. The only wall decoration, besides a Ren & Stimpy poster, was a Twister game mat nailed up in its entirety, presumably for high-schoolish humor's sake. 

When I'd met Billie Joe a few months earlier at a campus concert, his hair was dyed lime-green and featured squidlike tufts. Now it was dark brown, with only two tufts remaining, and both his ears and nose had piercings. Periodically during the interview, he'd ram a finger into that pierced nostril, rummage around, then stare idly at the resultant booger before flicking it on to the carpet. Cool wandered out of the rec room for several minutes, but returned, red-eyed, to proudly proclaim, "Lookit me! I'm stoned, dude!" Dirnt--when he wasn't strumming an acoustic guitar--kept watching their windowsill Sea Monkey tank, finally noting, "Hey, these Sea Monkeys look just like sperm!" 

Despite all these schoolboy, poo-poo wit trappings (dookie, after all, is kiddie slang for excrement), there was a sense of seasoned wisdom about them, a feeling that they were, as Cavallo postulated, truly old souls. Like the class clown who frustrates all of his teachers by also maintaining a 4.0 grade average, Green Day can afford to play because their work--brilliantly skewed three-minute pop songs, delivered with such vehemence and vitriol you don't dare doubt them--certainly speaks for itself. But, sooner or later, of course, the band has to speak for itself, too, so what follows is a set of excerpts from that first ratty-digs meeting, as well as a later chat with Billie Joe, sans sidekicks. How did Green Day take over the rock world in less than a year? That's the six-million-copy question, and hopefully we'll provide a few answers. 

* * * 

So punk is back, whether America likes it or not? 

BILLIE JOE: It's always been around, and everyone has their own interpretation of it. It's weird to actually call it "punk" again, when it's been there all the time. 

MIKE DIRNT: It's been springing up in little suburban areas, where people grab it and express themselves. 

TRE COOL: It's people who make a point of setting aside all responsibilities and just playing music. And doing fat joint after fat joint--you have to let go of things like paying rent, going to school, having a job. 

BJ: And, if you can't tell by my house, we don't have a very high standard of living. 

How does today's punk rock differ from its late-'70s cousin?

 BJ: I think it was all about art and fashion back then, really, because everyone who was a punk in England was in art school. I read an early interview with Dee Dee Ramone, where he said he wished the Ramones had more of a glamorous appeal, too, instead of playing in jeans and leather jackets. But it was definitely about fashion, until the Clash really brought out the political side. Our music came from being bored in the 'burbs. You get put in this high school situation, where you're learning someone else's rules in a room with 30 other people that you don't really like. There's nothing interesting about it whatsoever, so you pick up a guitar instead. 

But you all tried college, at least for awhile, right? 

MD: And then we started touring. Constantly. 

TC: So most of our reading now comes from highway signs. 

MD: It's the old grasshopper and the ant story. The thought of actually working is just so... 

TC: Sickening! 

MD: Yeah. So we put everything we had into not working. This is what I do best, and I was always told, "If you're gonna do something, do it the best you can." So why not do the best thing you can, too? 

You guys--at least Mike and Billie Joe--have known each other since you were 10? 

BJ: And the first conversation we ever had was about writing songs. And then we just started playing music. 

A lot of the stuff on your early Lookout! records shows what was on your mind at the time--namely, girls. 

BJ: That was pretty much the viewpoint of a 16-year-old kid. I don't write stuff like that anymore. The new songs are more about coming of age and being apathetic and neurotic.

 Where were your parents when you were touring [at age 16]? 

MD: At work, doing their own thing. 

BJ: My mom's worked a waitress job for like the past 40 years or something, and whatever I was doing was OK with her. 

MD: I moved out when I was 15, and I worked all the way through high school. 

BJ: And me, I've never held a job longer than two weeks. I tried to flip pizzas--it didn't work. I tried cleaning toilets in the Red Onion in El Sobrante. Me and TrŽ, we used to work for the SF Chronicle, selling papers. I sold three the first day, and the next day we just smoked pot, and we smoked pot the next day after that. So we had hella extra papers lying around. Our ultimate goal wasn't to get rich or famous or anything like that. It was to not have a regular job and not be miserable. 

MD: And I've lived in every city around here, except for Albany. Literally. And one thing we want to establish about ourselves is that we're just a bunch of geeks from the suburbs. 

Well, one of the first times I saw you, you guys were closing your set with Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger." That's pretty geeky. 

MD: I grew up on radio--that's all I had. When I was a little kid, I couldn't afford records. I'll tell you, I've been down to a dollar in my pocket a lot of times. I've even lived in my truck. I can remember shooting rats with a BB gun in the flat we used to live in, before they'd make it to our food. 

BJ: I've always been really good about saving. If I got some money, I'd put it away instead of spending it, and I'd buy ramen. 

Why name your disc Dookie? 

TC: Warner's said we could do anything we want, as long as we didn't say "Cop Killer." 

BJ: Somebody told our manager that the ad for it was the most tasteless thing they'd ever seen in Billboard magazine. 

What exactly do you mean on Dookie by "Welcome to Paradise"? 

BJ, MD, TC [in unison]: West Oakland! 

MD: Living in West Oakland, and going out to parties every night. 

So it cost, what, around $100,000 to make Dookie? 

MD: Yeah. We kept the advances low, because you gotta pay all that shit back. Everyone knows you can't become an instant millionaire just by signing, because there are so many people that want a piece of you. 

BJ: We hang out with mostly punks though, and they don't want anything we have. They could care less. And a lot of our friends don't even agree with us being on a major label. 

Is Green Day angry? 

BJ: No, I'm not angry, like, walking around all the time with a frown on my face. But the way my music is interpreted is very angry. 

MD: When you feel really strongly about something, you want to let it out in the most powerful way possible. 

Like the way you baited your old high school principal from the Warfield stage recently? 

MD: I think he was an asshole. He treated me with no respect. And for high school initiation, we got our heads shaved--that's the kind of small-town shit we had to deal with! Sometimes they made you push a penny up the street with your nose. But that's life, and anywhere you go, you're gonna hate a lot of shit in your life. You'll be handed

Dookie? 

MD: Yeah. Yeah, you'll be handed dookie through all parts of your life. And see, what you need to do is just deal with the dookie, build upon what you have, and make something out of the dookie, you know? Like an adobe dookie building! 

* * * 

Several months later, and Dookie is oozing its gooey way into the public consciousness big time. The fading summer heat sticks crackling to the Berkeley sidewalks as punks--many sporting monstrous green or fuchsia mohawks--zing by on skateboards by day, and huddle in Telegraph Avenue doorways by night, conserving feral body heat the whole time. It feels like another world here, a throwback to the Bay Area's DIY/hardcore scene of the early '80s, when squatters reigned supreme and burlesque Broadway--fueled by all-ages shows at the Mabuhay Gardens, On Broadway, and even an occasional GBH or UK Subs booking at the Stone--made weekend conversions to "Punk Playground, USA." It was the best of times; it was the worst of times--despite relentless touring, most of these bands sold bupkus in the way of records, and few, save Metallica, ever held pen in shaky hand over a major-label contract. 

Billie Joe saunters into the Berkeley coffeehouse in rumpled jeans and a grease-spattered flannel shirt; his once-green-and-tufty tresses have grown out into Wally Cleaver waves and been dyed a Rod Stewarty blond. He looks like one of those feisty punks of yore; like he could hold his own through sheer physical endurance in the wildest of thrash pits. There's a new authority about him, the way he strides confidently to the counter, orders a pint-size glass of coffee, then swims through a sea of late-lunching yuppies to grab a table. The singer doesn't seem to notice them at all. Or maybe he's just too tired from nonstop touring to really give a shit. He smiles a goofy grin, revealing a set of generally crooked or chipped choppers, with an entire half of one front tooth missing. But there's such charisma behind it, the same kind of "Who, me?" innocence that little kids use. Billie Joe, you might say, has quickly become the Bart Simpson of the alternative set. 

How else could you explain his uncensored performance at a certain outdoor arena where--in a hyperspeed set lasting only 30 minutes before management threatened to pull the plug--he a) unzipped his fly and paraded his privates around for all to see; b) handed a stunned fan his beat-up, sticker-plastered guitar and urged him to play it; c) destroyed a $600 microphone by smashing it into the stage, then destroyed a second mike he was handed as well; and d) encouraged half the venue to chant, "Rock 'n' roll!" and the other half to respond with, "Shut the fuck up!" He then closed the show with a proposition--"They'll be really angry with us, but what we could do is rip out the seats!" he told the audience, which promptly gave Green Day a standing ovation. Billie Joe not only shrugs off such shenanigans as artistic license, he gets away with them! He's even encouraged to continue by fans who empathize with his uppity "fuck authority" attitude. 

But the facts were all on the table as Billie Joe sipped his house blend that afternoon, and it didn't take a fortune teller to read 'em. Green Day was hitting big time. Fast. And the sheer enormity of the undertaking, the weight of all its accordant responsibility, was just beginning to hit him. He looked older, wiser, and spoke in more grownup tones about his future, which then included a pending marriage to longtime girlfriend Adrienne. You could practically feel this new maturity encircling him like some protective aura. 

* * * 

=Where do all these punks on Telegraph come from? They can't all be local and homeless. 

I think Telegraph has just become this cultural mecca for punk rockers, because most of 'em who are on the Avenue aren't even from here. They're from Arizona, Minneapolis, New York, Florida. They just come out and end up squatting in houses in Berkeley. Why here? It's the climate, and the scene itself--Gilman Street and Maximum Rock 'n' Roll are in this area, and have a link to each other. But at the same time, it's separated, because there are so many different factions of punk now. There are the squatters, the pop-cores, the mods, the crusties. And all these types of people come out just to check it out. Plus, there's the best coffee in Berkeley, and a lot of 'em are real super coffee-drinkers, just pounding cup after cup all the time. It's pretty rare to come across a punk who doesn't drink coffee. I can't drink too much coffee myself--it gives me the shakes at night, so I just have a little bit during the day. Then I can smoke dope and go to bed. 

=What's the attraction in squatting or homelessness for these kids? 

For a lot of 'em, it's the first sense of freedom that they've had. It's like, "You mean I don't have to be home by midnight?" They've pretty much told their families and schools to go fuck themselves, so they go off and do their own thing. When I was 17, I did the same thing. And I had this total sense of freedom, where no one's telling you what to do, you don't have a clock to punch in on, you don't have people breathing down your neck; you don't have any deadlines to meet. You have this endless schedule where you can stay up all night drinking with your friends, or do anything you want. 

=But isn't "Coming Clean" about leaving behind your wilder ways? 

It's also about coming to grips with your sexuality. There's one line, "Skeletons come to life in my closet." And it's like, "Am I homosexual or heterosexual?" You go through this adolescent stage in your life where you don't really know what you are, and one side is taboo because your parents brought you up to think being gay was wrong. And if you come to grips with yourself, that you happen to be gay or bi or whatever, well, that was one thing about punk that was so accepting--all creeds were welcome, all sexualities, everything. 

=Was this something you went through personally? 

Yeah, to a certain extent. But I don't want to go around waving a gay flag or anything. 

=Well, you had a beautiful girl on your arm backstage at the last Green Day show. 

That's Adrienne. She's cool. Actually, we're engaged. That's why it took me so long getting here today--I had to get this! [Rolls sleeve up on tattooed arm, points to a bandaged-on cotton swab] Blood test, dude! We're getting married next week! 

=Has anybody tried to tell you you're too young for such a serious move? 

Of course. There are a lot of people who've said stuff. My parents have been a little more understanding than her parents. I just called my mom yesterday and said, "Mom, I'm gettin' married," and she said, "That's fine, son. Have fun!" I can hardly surprise my mother nowadays. But [this relationship] has been a recurring thing for the past four years, and we just decided to get serious about it. She's coming out here, and we're moving in together, so it's like, "Why not?" I don't really have any wild oats to sow, or anything like that. I'm not into the "Gettin' chicks all the time" thing.

 =I know a lot of girls who'll be really bummed that you're gittin' hitched. They all seem to have developed a crush on you... 

Me?! It must be the teeth [grins again].

 =OK, so maybe you didn't brush often enough when you were young. But you were busy developing a direction... 

I wouldn't necessarily say I had a direction or anything. I just knew I wanted to write songs. It comes from...uh...I don't know. I have no idea. It wasn't any kind of cosmic force or anything like that; it was just a matter of having a guitar around and wanting to play it all the time. I've had the same guitar since I was 11--I bought it off this guy at a guitar store. And I still play it--you know, the blue one with stickers all over it? That's my blue guitar, and, for some reason, things come to life, and everyone calls it "Blue" now--"Where's Blue? Can I pick up Blue and play it?" 

=And you let just anybody touch it? 

Oh yeah! Blue's not prejudiced. 

=It's interesting to note that the general public seems to think Dookie is your debut. 

Yeah, but that's just the general public. There are people who've been with us since the beginning, who know how long we've been around, since our first 7-inch came out back in '89. 

=And now you can afford to trash pricey microphones. 

Actually, Warner Brothers paid for those. It was pretty nice of 'em. They looked really nice--I remember looking at 'em and thinking, "Nice microphones!" They gave me one mike and I took it and threw it down, and they gave me another, and at the end of the set I creamed it pretty hard, I guess. We toured Europe with this band Die Toten Hosen--we played nine dates with 'em--and we got charged for a microphone every night. I dunno, for some reason we just started smashing shit. We'd start throwing equipment around at the end of each set, and these kids would start grabbing Tre's drum set and throwing it, and then they started smashing the microphones too. And the bouncers just couldn't do anything about it. 

=And you actually yanked your dick out onstage too? 

I did. Totally. It was the real thing. I dunno. The bands that we were playing with were just boring. It was more like making a mockery of the whole thing. The big arena rock thing is just so dated now, like Journey or Queen. Which is why I think punk rock started to begin with--it was this reaction to all the dinosaur bands. So for me, that show was, "How can we make a complete mockery of this but at the same time have fun with it?" I like to leave people guessing, "Did he hate that or did he like that?" It's not that I don't care--it's more that I'm careless. I try to be as happy-go-lucky as I can, but you can become apathetic at the same time. 

=Do you feel like Green Day is a part of, or represents, the so-called "slacker generation"? 

There's one side of me that doesn't mind it, because it's a generational thing, and another side of me that says, "Fuck that!" The reason I wrote the songs is, I ended up going back to Rodeo, where I'm from, for a week. And then I said, "Fuck it," and left. But I managed to get several good songs out of it. A lot of my friends had just turned into complete burnouts. And these are kids I've known since kindergarten, because it's a small town and you know everybody. And it was all fixing cars, staying up all night on methamphetamines, smoking dope, and finding out all these rumors about people I haven't heard of in 10 years. Like, "Oh, did you hear about so-and-so, who got married, had three kids, and ended up shooting everybody in his family?" And it happened! It was a true story! You're there for one week, and you get caught up in it. You get so bored, all you wanna do is watch television. And there are no record stores, nothing around, so you end up hanging out with all these delinquents who aren't punkers at all, just cultural idiots. So I was watching all these people rot and rotting with them until I realized, "Shit! I gotta get the fuck outta here!" 

=As they say, you can never go home again. 

Oh yeah, definitely. Unless you get pregnant, like my sister did. Then you have to go. But I quit school my senior year--I just wasn't getting anything out of it. I was taking nine periods a day, plus night classes, which left me no time to smoke dope whatsoever. And my mom even suggested I drop out, because she was a dropout, too. I come from a long line of dropouts. I still have nightmares about being late with my homework assignments. When I finally went in to sign out of high school, the teacher went, "Now, who are you again?" 

=And if that teacher could see you now! 

A lot of people think you get this big connection with a corporate label, and you make millions of dollars, but they don't understand that you just don't make that much money. And when you do, it's easy to piss it away. I mean, every cent that I've made, I've pissed away. I'm not gonna say how I did it, but I don't have it But I don't think you necessarily have to be a punk to decide to say, "Fuck it." You don't even have to have a direction. It's just a matter of getting the fuck out and exploring things for yourself. 

=But didn't you feel abject terror when you first set out on your own? 

Nah, I didn't. Because, for some reason, I knew things were gonna be all right. You can create your own future as long as karma's on your side. And I'm a strong believer in karma. I think things can come back to you if you're just willing to give. 

* * * 

True enough. At least six million times over!

1995 Tom Lanham

My way

Pairing : Din Djarin x OC

Blurb: When something bad happens it’s unsure what one will do in the face of something new and scary. For one such as her, the role seems small, unimportant and yet she’ll do it all her way for the child in her care.

A/N : I wasn’t gonna post this because it seems a bit too ...meh. i dont even have a proper vision for this yet but...im sure it’ll come to me. i got into the star wars universe recently so im a bit uneducated which...kinda works for this story actually. Lemme know any thoughts though. 

Warnings: None? i don’t think in this chapter

Part Two

Chapter One: Arrival

There's a Galaxy not too far away.

It's beautiful. It's everything she could have possibly asked for and it's right there in her sights. It feels almost as if she could reach out and touch it, so close and yet so far away. So many things it could have been, yet it was a simple yet complex Galaxy that caught her eye in the dark space around her.  

Sighing, she looks away from the hunger-inducing chocolate bar and continues to work with her higher-paid...male coworkers.  

They bustled and ranted from all around her, flanked from all sides as she tried to figure just why they didn't treat her with the same respect other females in the workplace got.

Perhaps it was her clothes, her blue hair? her choice in jewelry perhaps? Everything about her seemed perfectly normal, she was fairly normal, kind, and helpful...so why did they seem to hate her so much?

Maybe it wasn't hate so much as indifference. They did thank her when she brought their coffee or tea and they did say please when they asked her for stuff. She smoothed down the black pencil skirt as she looked upon the notes and files on her desk.

The place of her work wasn't entirely for the simple. Sure there was the usual lab work, science work involving different studies, the particular area in which she was interning for, was Space.

Time and space.

The small team of scientists were working on several theories and tests all at the same time. Files from new technology to new ways to travel in space came through her desk each day.

Never had she thought something quite like this would be obtainable.

Pens, rocks, different fabrics, all of which had gone through the test of teleportation into space. The landings were screwy, some rocks landed in the dead nonexistent atmosphere, forever suspended.

Others had landed on different planets. Only discernible if the tracker still worked.

Three hamsters had died in transportation, more had suffocated in space...she knew which idiot had forgotten to put them in a sealed oxygenated box.

There were more failures than successes and they were no closer to their goal of finding out what lay on the other side of a Galaxy.

The day had started off like any other. She pined for her chocolate, pined for her soft fuzzy socks and warmth of her bed. As much as she loved that she had gotten into one of the most wanted lab spots as an intern.

She wished she was more than just an intern.

The light pink shirt she wore blended nicely between her blue hair and black pencil skirt; black heeled shoes completing the air of sophistication.  Everything seemed fairly normal except for the people.

They'd never been like this. The workplace always used to be kind and safe, now she just felt odd and scared. It was silent and they all looked at her with passing glances, hoping she wasn't realizing that they were staring sometimes.

It was awfully suspicious. All-day they'd be secretive, more so than usual and it was really starting to creep her out. So she reached down and picked up her bag from the floor, heading for the first reception out of the building.

''I'm heading home for the day, I don't feel too good.''

''Of course, Nora. I hope you feel better. Oh! quickly before you go-'' Nora rejected the urge to roll her eyes. Anticipating the gold medal run for Talking in the Olympics for England, Nora was ready for her feet to be aching, instead what she felt was entirely different.

The woman was still talking as the pinch in her neck subsided, Nora's eyes falling shut immediately, the world going blank as she fell back into the waiting arms of a coworker.

Well, Ex-coworker.

Waking up was a feat in itself. She felt hot, courtesy of the fact that they had stuffed her into a spacesuit, where they had acquired the thing or where they had put her favourite pair of shoes were the questions on her mind.

Aside from the obvious 'what the fuck are they doing to me' question in big bold letters, screaming itself in her head. At least it was before the realization set in.

They'd thrown her into a spacesuit without taking off her underclothes, her skirt bunched uncomfortably under it, she had no socks on in the giant boots. The vacuum-sealed room had only one exit and it was locked tight.

Though it wasn't entirely empty. She was there yes, but so were her shoes and her bag. ''THose are for you to keep in event you end up somewhere...alive.''

The head of their little team spoke on the other side of the glass. He used to be kind, he used to smile all the time and now he just looked evil, devoid of any emotion.  

''Please don't do this!'' It wasn't hard for them to hear her, the helmet's comm was connected to the entire room and she could hear her echo. ''I'll die!''

''Nonsense. You're the best human candidate we have for this test.''

''I never fucking volunteered! Asshole!'' She pounded her fist against the window, the fight in her was dead but she was going to act as if she had any chance of getting out of that room. ''People will look for me. They will miss me!''

''There's nothing to look for here. You left early after suddenly coming down with an illness.''  Anita's face fell, her own excuse being used against her so all her friends would think she was just another missing person.

''Fire it up.''

She could feel the rumble beneath her feet, the telltale startup of the machine. They actually going to do this. ''No! This is inhuman! Monstrous! Please don't!''

Ignored, the head starting barking more orders, muffled and incoherent as he turned off the comm connection. The lights in the room flickered, computer screens and phone screens, electricity could all but be seen in the air.

This was new. Something they seemed to have done behind her back. The normal machine never took so much power to be used, and she wondered just what needed so much power.

The answer came in the form of a strong wind. A pull from behind her and she could see that her bag was moving towards it.  

Space. In the palm of their hand, contained in this tiny room. They had opened a portal nearby to the andromeda galaxy, or it so seemed like they had done it. Anita couldn't actually see the galaxy, nor any galaxy or star, just the vast darkness of space.

Anita gathered her grey bag, shoving her shoes into it as she turned back to the window, banging on it in fear as she pleaded with them to stop this. Pleaded with their humanity that she would stay silent about this if they just let her out.

All her coworkers stayed still, neither moving nor blinking at the show of science in front of them. Whatever force of gravity was pulling her away was getting stronger, her instant hold on anything was pure instinct.

Though it was not strong enough. The gloves didn't allow for the same grip she would have had without them on.  She felt her hands slipping and when she eventually had been pulled from the bar.

The loss of gravity felt strange, as though she were in an elevator, her entire being felt weightless but it still terrified her to no end. On the edge of hyperventilating, she suddenly felt the sucking vacuum once again before Gravity dropped her to the ground.

Anita felt relief, eyes closed she thought perhaps the machine hadn't worked, that it had turned off and failed. On the contrary, The machine had worked too well.

The room she was in was empty. The scientists were baffled and the entire building was dark, everything within a five-mile radius was dark as the power had been used for the machine. The only thing that told the scientists that it had worked, was the lights they checked when they managed to get everything back on.

When Anita opened her eyes, the relief vanished and fear had returned. The ground underneath her was not white and tiled, it was brown and...sand, her helmet had cracked and she hear the air whistling through the tight gap as the wind blew.

She'd had been dead if she couldn't breathe the atmosphere so it had to be at least similar to Earths atmosphere. She was warm, too warm and she didn't know if it was because her heart was pounding or because of the sun looming overhead.

Wrenching off the bulky helmet, Anita worked on stripping the heavy and hot suit from her body which left her in just her smart work clothes and a labcoat. Anita's cries were loud, no one was around to hear them and she had to let out some of the emotions she was feeling.

She couldn't believe they had done that to her. She had worked with them for months and thought she was their friend. To be thrown away so easily wasn't something Anita was used to and crying in the middle of a desert, barefoot and at risk of cancer was something she never expected to be doing.

She picked up her bag, heels poking out the edge, and hugged to her chest. the only familiar thing around her wasn't going to leave her sight.  The sand was hot on her toes, tears still falling as she stood to her feet and wondered which direction to walk in to find any sort of civilization or place to set a base up.

She hadn't known how long she had been walking, sand was stuck to her feet as sweat dripped down her legs. Flyaway blue hairs stuck to her head and she wished she had more than the tiny bottle of water she bought on the way to work.

She was scared, alone, and had no way of knowing where she was. She hadn't seen anything more than a random frog-like thing hopping around. The racing heart and mind were only just starting to calm down when she heard shouting in a foreign language.

Something shot at her, just barely missing her toes in the sand and Anita screamed. Falling to her knees and throwing her hands in the air as non-threateningly as she could possibly get.  Hands roughly grabbed and shoved down behind her back, forced back to her feet and to walk in a direction different to the one she was going in.

''Please, I don't understand!!''

The strange beings that had seemed to take her prisoner continued to force her forward. Only 4 of them but the glimpse of red and green skin was enough to make her realize she didn't want to see them.

''Quiet!''

Something in her dropped with relief that they seemed to know even a little bit of English. She half thought she could perhaps reason with them, try to get them to let her go in any direction they were not in.

The feel of a gun barrel told her not to speak again though. Anita regretted not doing so as they walked over a large dune, an encampment sitting there looking all...suspicious to her.  More of the people who had captured her were walking around it, seemingly keeping guard of the place which only further cemented the fact that these were not good people...things.

They took her in and snatched her bag from her, one looked through it while the other pushed what looked like a metal egg towards her.

''Hey! B-be careful with those!'' Though scared, her phone was terribly expensive and she still wanted to keep all her familiar items from home even if some of them wouldn't work here.

The one with the gun like weapon jabbed her with the barrel and made a sound that told her to be quiet. pushing the metal egg into her thighs with more force. ''You care for it.''

''Care for what!? Is this thing alive!? It's an egg! Hey, now that is super duper expensive!'' Overwhelmed and jabbed once again with the gun barrel, Anita watched helplessly as the one with her bag dropped her perfume back in it without a care. She hoped it hadn't broken.

''Care for it!'' Hardly any other option at the end of a weapon, Anita wrapped her arms around the egg and held it close to her hoping to appease the thing talking in broken English. The other one threw her bag back down to the floor and they both left together, the large metal door shutting behind them heavily.

Evidently her only way out of the room, Anita had little choice but to sit on the floor and observe the metal egg she was given. It was white, but very clearly bashed up with a slit down the middle of the top end.

Anita squinted at what looked like buttons on the front of it. Gently tapping her painted fingernails on the metal, jumping when she heard a cooing sound muffled from within; her mouth made an 'o' shape at the realization that the egg itself wasn't alive, but there was instead something alive inside it.

She didn't want to open it. What if it was like those other things. What if it was scaly or had horns and sharp, what if it bit her entire hand off and she needed a metal hook to replace it!? Laughing at herself, Anita hovered her finger over the button counting to three before pressing it quickly and shuffling away on the off chance it would bite her.

The cooing sounded again, louder now it wasn't covered by the metal. Anita opened her eyes and glanced at it, thoroughly surprised by what she saw, for one, it was green...

And utterly adorable.

''Oh hiiii.'' Whatever it was cooed again at her tone and Anita held her breath, heart pounding for a completely different reason now. ''You've been kept in this pod thing like this the whole time?''

She questioned mostly to herself, as it seemed not to be able to speak actual words. It tilted its head, large green ears the size of her hands flopping a little at the tips and it made another sound as it reached its hands out to her.

Anita could almost burst out into tears, it wanted to be held and it looked so heartbrokenly neglected. She immediately swooped it from the weird metal bassinet thing and cradled it to her chest, wondering if her heart could break anymore when it closed its eyes and tapped its small green finger to the sound of her heartbeat.

''Oh honey, they've been treating you horridly haven't they?'' at this, it's hands bunched in her lab coat. The creature was obviously quite frightened, confused as to why it was so important to the other things and Anita had chosen her path in this new galaxy, right by this child's side for as long as it needed her.

''There's no need to be afraid anymore. I am your mother now and I will protect you.''

Hiwaga (Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader)

Part 2

Words: 11,2k

Genre: Soulmate AU, Reincarnation AU, Enemies to Lovers, Action, Romance, Smut, Flufffffff

Pairing: Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader

Warnings: More cursing, Nightmares

Summary: Life was good, playing out better than it has been ever before. My future was bright and full of promises and wishes coming to realization. All up until she showed up. She stormed though the front doors ruining everything along the way by her mere presence derailing my goals and purpose in life. A puny mortal, a child, a complete nuisance, and yet…The key to an unimaginable life, to the truth all along.

Author's note: Hiwaga – mystery; full of wonder Words in italics are dialogues or thoughts that Jeongguk reads from others. So I’ve done research with this fic, and used certain words that need explanation…given that there can be A LOT I’ve put a dictionary just below the fic if anyone is interested :3

Jeongguk’s POV:

‘’YOONGIIIIII-YAAAHHH!!!’’ comes the call not really disrupting others, but it does pull the gained momentum to a full stop, everyone now straightening up, eyes and heads turned towards the entrance. We all observe as the owner of that annoying voice comes in sight, dressed in none other than Yoongi hyungs favourite red hoodie that he mostly lounges around in.

‘’I’ve figure it out!’’ she continues on oblivious to the others stopping because of her. Our elder simply smiles and turns his attention completely onto her, as she offers up a thick book that at first glance leaves me wondering how she was able to pick it up. Frankly if you look at her you wouldn’t assume that she’d be able to lift much.

He simply hums in acknowledgement, eyes scanning the page his smile gradually fading. Namjoon appears at the doorframe a moment later, the girl not jumping or flinching at his sudden presence like most humans would normally react to. Wordlessly she accepts a notebook from him, her own eyes darting left and right a frown drawing itself across her features. Hmmm she’s kind of cute…

‘’What’s going on?’’ Taehyung asks frowning as he shifts the spear he’s using to train, between his hands. We’re all dressed the same, in black tank tops and grey sweatpants most of us barefoot too. We came to the fully equipped gym which we’ve transformed into an arena its purpose clear – practice martial arts and combat between another. Hyung had just started teaching us new techniques honestly surprising us all as he joined in from the beginning.

We don’t necessarily need the fitness or practice – nobody even broke a sweat in the last hour we’ve been training – but the impending tension that has settled after the ball two nights ago, doesn’t seem to loosen up so this is the best next thing to relieve some form of built up frustration. Even though neither Yoongi nor Jin hyung revealed anything yet, both of them are hiding their emotions back but everyone just knows that something is happening. Fighting is a temporary distraction.

Most vampires don’t actually need to fight or simply never learn how to because they rely solemnly on their powers or abilities. And half of us could lean onto using our powers, but Yoongi made sure we had a good solid base of self-defence before he had us train our abilities. For example, his power is scary and rare and doesn’t require of him to ever lift a finger whilst fighting. Others had to learn the hard way how to control their powers. That includes myself – mentality and people’s minds are tricky.

‘’Research.’’ Its Namjoon that replies handing over a regular pencil that he usually sticks behind his ear whenever he’s working on something in the library where he has been spending a lot of time lately again at. The human accepts it, and is quick to start and scribble something over a page. Being the only one left out of this round I approach them first, eyeing Yoongi for a moment further his eyes darting over to Namjoon.

‘’This is bothersome.’’ He comments offering the book to Namjoon who accepts it nodding silently. The girl curses out of the blue, the swear words that spill from her mouth unfamiliar to my ear, and judging by other hyung’s faces they are stumped too. Some curses don’t even sound like words, but once she shuts up and looks at the platinum blonde elder, she looks beyond annoyed while he burst into chuckles shaking his head ‘’Yah, Y/N-ah there are kids here.’’ He teases back the occurrence and light-heartedness that he shows to her still unfamiliar. He must be the only one who understood whatever came from her mouth.

I spare a glance at Seokjin who is shaking his head, two fingers pressed against the inner of his eyes. Okay he understood her to, but to what degree I’m not sure.

‘’Aish.’’ She intakes a breath ready to smack Yoongi with the notebook but refrains from doing so, her eyes darting over to us. Maybe it’s just my imagination but I get a feeling as if they linger on me for a moment longer ‘’Not funny. They called me a child.’’ She ends up pouting and showing her notebook over to Yoongi. Glancing at Namjoon he’s awkwardly smiling, eyes averted down onto the thick book ‘’And other things I don’t need to translate.’’ Grumbling she adds looking upset as she glares at him unamused. Everyone offers soft chuckles in return finally relaxing more as they step closer.

Hyung’s arm rises wrapping around her shoulders reassuringly ‘’Well that was the plan was it not?’’

My eyes dart over to Tae and Jimin, exchanging looks between both of them in question and sort of answer at the revelation ‘’Yeh.’’ Her reply is curt arms crossed over while she turns her eyes towards Namjoon ‘’We’re close to figuring it out. Its trickier than I thought. Haven’t practiced Gaya in so long…Kaya…aish even my pronunciation is completely off.’’ She signs looking exasperated.

‘’Wait…’’ Hoseok starts tensing up taking barely half a step towards her in the uneven circle we’ve created ‘’Kaya as in the language? Karak? Like 5th century, dead long and forgotten language?!’’ he looks at them in complete disbelief mouth hanging ajar. He’s almost on his toes. I immediately look at the human, that nods fingers tapping against the page of her notebook impatiently or out of nerves.

‘’That one yes. Why? Do you know it???’’ her eyes sparkle for a moment, but hyung is quick to turn his head away and raise his hands in defeat.

‘’That’s way before my time.’’ he mumbles pouting. I watch as Y/N enthusiasm diminishes instantly. She sighs heavily looking at Yoongi who’s already staring back at her.

‘’Aigo.’’ She complains pouting ‘’It’s all on us then buddy.’’ She adds on offering Namjoon a soft smile. I can see her disappointment clearly in the way her shoulders lower sag. I narrow my eyes as I watch her, not really comprehending that there’s a chance that she actually knows a dead language. The name of it or the know how about it. She barely speaks proper Korean!!!!! And to know of a pre-Korean language makes zero logic!!!

‘’Uh huh. I’m sure we can handle it. Easy.’’ Namjoon replies trying to sound positive but, we all know he’s putting up a front for her sake ‘’I’ll head into the city right away. Go to my usual places to snoop around for any fragments. There should be at least something somewhere.’’ And with that, and a silent confirmation from Jin and Yoongi, he bids us goodbye’s and heads out disappearing quickly as he appeared before.

‘’What are you even translating? Did that douche-ling make another cryptic speech?’’ Jimin asks looking annoyed, tapping both fingers against the handles of his dual swords which are resting against the ground. Y/N instead of quickly replying looks over at Yoongi, who takes her notebook and closes it. Is she waiting for permission or is she actually being respectful for once?!?

‘’In the beginning yeah, he bounced with Karak but then switched to Latin mid-way.’’ Yoongi snorts smirking but there’s no amusement to his words ‘’Y/N-ah already translated his official scripts and the other speech, and the propositions he gave us.’’

‘’Lots of politics involved.’’ Jin confirms looking lost in thought, holding his head propped up with one hand, the other remaining crossed across his chest.

‘’There’s something else isn’t there.’’ I pick up on the lack of explanation staring straight at the human. Her lips go into a tight line eyes averting looking anywhere else, while she shifts her feet in line with her shoulders, stance defensive with her centre balanced. That much I can read out once her shoulders square up, and her leg muscles clench and unclench. Why is she wearing a hoodie and shorts again?!? Her bare legs look very nicely defined, I never noticed it.

‘’I wrote down notes of the conversation that Wangseja had with his advisor.’’ Everyone takes a double take at her disclosure clearly none of us expecting something like this of her. Maybe she isn’t a clueless bimbo after all.

‘’That still wouldn’t fully explain the usage of Karak.’’ Hoseok speaks up thoughtful ‘’Do you think them speaking out loud was deliberate or simply a foolish error?’’

He has a point there. It could be a trap, but Yoongi is quick to shake his head in denial arm now having shifted around Y/N, his hand placed on her hip ‘’I don’t think it’s either of those. It’s safe to assume for certain than none of you assumed that Y/N-ah here spoke more than 3 languages, let alone Karak in the mix right?’’ the other hyungs nod along eyeing her suspiciously, except for Jin that offers a smirk and Taehyung that seems to be revaluating his stance over her again ‘’Point made then.’’

That boulder in my stomach reappears again, as with prideful eyes Yoongi turns to look at her with a wider smile, while she shakes her head instead twirling the pen, he hasn’t confiscated from her. She’s shifting from one foot to another lulling side to side impatiently making him retreat his arm away.

This girl never seems to be able to stand still even for a second ‘’Yeah, yeah I’m more than meets the eye, bla, bla.’’ She shows her tongue at her supposedly life-term friend ‘’Never heard that one before.’’ she mocks, and slides the pen smoothly behind Hyung’s ear who doesn’t blink twice at her antics. Even more so as she reaches for his Geom that is sheathed on his left hip ‘’So instead of wracking our brains uselessly with the lack of information that we are stuck with, I would like to lay of some steam as well.’’ she draws out the double-edged sword, with poise, letting the handle go while she maintains the balance of it, flipping the sword around a single digit, capturing it successfully once it does a 360 turn.

She looks pleased upon capturing it, perking up and giving of an almost goofy smile. Oh no. Don’t tell me this is something else that she isn’t going to take seriously?

‘’You wanna play with us little mortal?’’ Jimin pips up looking enthusiastic and livelier all of the sudden. But he doesn’t slide forward and move closer to her like I know he would prefer to. It brings a smile to my face, the thought of him being so afraid of hyung that he doesn’t dare approach her in his presence all that much.

Looking at the girl, she’s preoccupied with hyung’s sword, trying to find the balance of it as she holds it by the handle horizontally keeping it steady. At his comment, she lets the sword fall but catches it before the tip can hit the ground.

‘’Jagi?’’ the nickname has everyone in the room freeze on spot. There are two reaction that she grants herself. Chuckles of amusement, that aren’t as quiet as the hyungs wants them to be – nobody in their sane mind would want to experience Yoongi’s wrath. Tae ends up ducking behind Hoseok as he’s the loudest, hence why the elders glare is instantaneous as he turns to glare at both giggling men.

Jin hyung straight up turns around hand covering his mouth, but his shoulders are shaking badly. Hoseok ends up grinning wider and starts too coo instead, teasing in between but mostly telling Y/N how adorable she is for some reason. Jimin settles for kneeling on the ground hands still holding into his own dual swords grin present over his features, eyes having disappeared from how much he finds this whole situation amusing.

I on the other hand hold back the bile that gathers in my stomach. Ew. Just no. Why? Seriously why. I cringe and listen to the way Yoongi is quick to defend her and not himself! He’s advocating for her, coming up with excuses as to why he is allowing her to use this nickname on him. Looking at her, she’s grinning widely clearly amused by the situation she has created.

I seriously feel sick to my stomach. It’s wrong it’s all just wrong. I seriously don’t like her. Just as I was starting to, I don’t anymore I really don’t. She’s way to cocky right now, acting as if she has hyung wrapped around her finger. He storms after our so called ‘dance line’ with the exception of me, as they start teasing the two louder and bolder. Unbothered she remains put just watching blurs go around, her eyes not able to pick up much on what’s going on as the chase begins.

If she wasn’t here – hyung would be chasing me too with the others. I let a few good comebacks die on my tongue knowing first-hand what it’s like to get silly punishment from Yoongi after badmouthing him or anyone else. Her mere presence right now is to put it in simple words; extinguishes my will to live. And yeah, I’ve been a vampire for almost 200 years but fuck does she weight me down. Is it because I can’t read her thoughts? I shift on my feet, dropping my arms from the crossed-up position I’ve had them. While my left hand reasts against my hip, I let my right rest over the handle of my own Geom. I’ve decided to build upon my skills with it, even though it’s not commonly used anymore, it’s still gives the thrill like no other.

That familiar itch raises in my throat slowly, prickling at it mostly. I think this type I haven’t felt since I’ve been freshly turned. But that was another story as my hunger for blood then was insatiable. When all I could think about was blood, and the constant pain that held me in its clutches. It’s starting to appear somewhat, but not necessarily for blood alone which is puzzling as to what’s happening to me.

‘’You look like you’re having fun.’’ I raise an eyebrow as I look down at her in surprise ‘’The whole brooding thing you’ve got going on right now, is a good strategy. I commend you on that dude.’’

‘’Strategy?’’ I ask bemused eyeing her carefully as she steps right next to me and turns to watch the chaos that’s still unfolding across us. Her approach is like – if you were sitting on the very edge of a couch, she’s the person that would sit right next to you. Can she get even more annoying than this?!

‘’Well yeah.’’ She starts and looks at me slightly losing the edge of confidence she has ‘’To avoid this mess that’s happening. Wasn’t that…’’ she trails off clearly doubting herself ‘’Never mind then.’’ she’s quick to look away, left hand reaching up to scratch at her cheek, but she keeps it there avoiding to look at me.

I can’t help but to smile at her behaviour. Is she blushing?!

Odd. Humans are weird. Narrowing my eyes as I continue watching her, I can’t help but to relax a bit. Her hair is a mess as always, falling over her shoulders, clearly uncombed or unattended. Not that she’s dirty, she smells fresh and like she bathed fairly recently that strawberry hint present underneath the artificial flavour of honey scented shampoo.

The hoodie is too big on her body as it’s too big for hyung himself but on her it easily reaches her mid tights. Having said that the branded shorts with white stripes at the side of her legs peek just from beneath the red hoodie. Otherwise her legs are exposed, and following the curves from her meaty thighs, down to her calves I can see she’s back at being restless her left foot tapping against the ground the rubber of her sneakers making faint noise against the wood of the ground.

Shouts raising has me turning up, ready to defend myself from blatantly staring at her or crudely said ogling her. To my rare luck Yoongi has both Jimin and Taehyung pinned down, clearly having fun as he fake scolds them. Hoseok has given up and is sitting on the ground, hands propping himself up as he’s leant backwards. Jin hasn’t even participated in whatever they have going on, and is sitting in the corner of the room, kneeling against the wall with his new pink coloured Samsung Z in his hands, typing furiously on it with a small smirk on his face.

‘’Hey do you know why did the scarecrow win an award?’’ Jin starts getting everyone’s attention eyes rising after he asks the question. He even glances towards us. And we all know what’s coming it’s clear as a single cloud on a clear sunny day ‘’Because he was outstanding in his field.’’

I roll my eyes instantly, biting onto my lower lip because it’s ridiculous. Jimin burst into laughter first, Hoseok and Tae groaning but ending up laughing more so because of Jimin that rolls away from Yoongi who has let go of both vampires and is staring at hyung with a scrunched-up expression.

‘’Seriously hyung?’’ he breathes shaking his head. But a smile is present.

I’m genuinely startled when Y/N places her hand on my shoulder, body trembling as she tries to keep her own giggles down, but is not having much success with it. I stare at her confused but slightly fascinated by the rosiness that covers her cheeks, and face. Her eyes crinkle as they shut, mouth twisted into a grin. Her hold on my shoulder is surprisingly firm, again in the back of my mind making me revaluate the estimate I put on her about her strength.

‘’You’re laughing at that?’’ I ask trying to sound unimpressed but fail at it completely as I smile all due to her own amusement, the joke not being that drop-dead-funny.

She shakes her head instead and let’s go of me taking a step to the side hand readjusting the hold on hyung’s Geom once more ‘’The delivery was A+.’’ she points out as she starts to calm down.

‘’Thank you, Y/N-ah! You see brats? Someone appreciates my jokes! It’s why from now on Y/N-ah is my favourite creature ever!!!’’ he shouts out acting bratty himself. Jimin and Tae are both on their feet making their way over to Jin, probably with the intention of convincing him that they are his favourite whatever.

‘’Gee thanks.’’ Y/N chuckles bringing my attention back to her ‘’Never been called someone’s favourite ‘creature’ but I’ll take it.’’ she ends up grinning happily as she turns to me, warmth still lingering on her cheeks. As well as over my shoulder where her hand was ‘’Anyways you wanna practice Sour boy?’’ I immediately frown at that nickname as does she scrunching up her nose adorably for a moment ‘’Sour creature?’’ she tries ending up chuckling to herself as she shift left and right, the calmness leaving her while her jumpiness coming back ‘’Can’t use Sour wolf those right are reserved obviously…’’ I tilt my head not having a clue what’s she’s referring to ‘’…sour…ah never mind.’’ Again, she’s shaking her head but isn’t hiding away. She twists the sword again putting her left foot forward balancing her centre first, hands and sword following suit ‘’So you wanna try going against me?’’

It’s a dare.

I want to burst into laughter already imagining 3 moves alone to disarm her in a blink of her eye. But hyung’s words in my head stop me from over reacting at the preposterous challenge that’s right in front of me.

Humour her Jeongguk-ah. It will do good for your patience.

Taking a hold of my own blade, I spare a glance over towards Yoongi first noticing that everyone is watching us. They are going to be entertained I’ll make sure I will…

In a blink of an eye and my own, as my reflexes are enhanced mind you – I find myself dumbfounded, as her sword flashes due to the light and clashes against my own, knocking it sideways proving that my hold on it wasn’t as tight as it should have been.

As I look down at her burning but non-glowing human eyes, she’s glaring at me with some sort of fire in her irises. Her hand is back on me, firmly holding onto the inside of my forearm, while her blade is angled in a seemingly awkward position right arm positioned over her left body twisted to the side. But the most important part is; the tip of her sword is located right under my chin. The body of the Geom is strategically positioned in a way that would block any stronger and direct attack from myself.

The cheers burst out of the blue interrupting the silence that happened due to her unexpected actions.

My tongue darts to my cheek as I snort and tilt my head narrowing my eyes at her, as she ends up smiling but look serious doing so. She ends up pulling her hand and sword back, rising it up in triumph.

‘’Lesson number one; always be ready for the unexpected.’’ Jin speaks up oddly enough giving me a more serious look.

I don’t even bother looking towards others, and focus on the girl before me that’s literally skipping on her spot 2 steps away from me. She wiggles her eyebrows at me, sword getting placed to rest against her shoulder angled at an around 80 degree ‘’Lesson 1000-something-something never lose focus.’’ She imitates Yoongi’s pattern of speech clearly making fun of him making me know that he trained her as well. Her head turns to the right to give him a look.

I twirl my Geom keeping in mind that even though I’m about to surprise her as she surprised me, I a voice screaming at me to keep my movements slow. It would be an easy defeat – like taking candy from a baby – if I use my regular speed and agility on her. She wouldn’t stand a chance.

As I raise my blade, she instantly blocks it spinning with elegance at the perfect time. While I’m holding the leather wrapped handle with both hands, she only uses one and efficiently blocks me, her blade only briefly losing a hold twitching backwards and then coming to a still.

‘’To rough?’’ I tease, as she grabs for the long handle with her left hand the pressure against my blade turning prominent. Fuck. I didn’t expect in the slightest that she would be even able to push against me. But that’s maybe because I didn’t focus on taking a hold of my Geom in a proper way like I should have. I underestimated her.

She doesn’t reply initially, but offers a smirk jaw locked tight. To my astonishment she unpredictably steps back, and raises her Geom ready to strike down, which I block successfully intercepting her attacks from the get go. The fact remains that tips the balance contradictory to my own belief and those of my hyungs as with my brief lack of concentration, everything changes – words fill my mind – because she has managed from the get go to legitimately push me backwards. She has me moving, whole body getting in tune and reflexes to work as two close calls of the metal coming in contact with me have me focusing solemnly on her.

It isn’t until she’s out of breath that she jumps back like in the beginning, and simply breathes harshly through her nose. That’s the weakness of being a human. Getting tired. I know it’s not fair but I take my chance and charge forward, confident that I’ve got an easy win under my belt.

But as I move forward faster than I should I’ll admit her left hand reaches and gets in line with where my sword is pointed at. She’s reaching forward as if she is about to pick an apple, the action itself insane. That has me stopping right before the blade can touch, forcing my whole body to a halt. That’s when she strikes, finger wrapping onto the top of my blade against the blunt part of it.

It all happens so fast even for me, as she holds onto my weapon and just like the first time, she’s finds herself right up in my personal space, her blade finding a home under my chin it seems.

Her face is almost feral – that’s how I’d describe it the easiest. She’s showing her blunt teeth as she breathes fast heart absolutely pounding in her chest, as she glares at me the fire I saw before has turned into some sort of a blizzard, and hunger. The cheers that erupt of disbelief and glee get all muted - her blood is calling out to me. I can feel it vibrating in her veins, pumping steadily though her heart. It sounds like a forgotten lullaby her speeding but regulating steady heartbeat. It brings a taste of nostalgia forward.

The smile that stretches across her lips seems newly unique, only for my eyes – there’s of course that prominent sense of victory, happiness that��s prominent in her whole being still only inches away from me.

I’m left blinking in confusion, the hold of my blade being let go as someone pulls her backwards the cold blade that was located under my chin retreating as well as her warmth and now prominent smell of fruitiness, and something else that I can almost taste in the air – something that kind of remind me of the smell I remember that came from my own clothes when I was still a human.

‘’Ah our sweet Golden Maknae, it seems you have meet you’re match in at least one category!’’ Jin cheers throwing his arm over my shoulders, looking extremely gleeful as he starts poking my sides. I twist at his ministration but keep watching as Hoseok lifts Y/N up onto his shoulders, her hands free from weapons and desperate to hold onto something as she dangerously shifts and tries to balance herself on his shoulders. His oblivious jumping spree continues despite her cries of protests with Jimin standing behind the two ready to catch her as Taehyung dances along with the vampire that’s carrying her.

I can’t shake off the tingles that seem to entrap me in a sense, running over my skin prickling at my long stopped beating heart. I stare almost dumbly listening to the shouts and cheers from the human girl, that decided to act along with the boys’ antics easily following and mimicking them having the time of her life judging by the giant smile she has on, and adorable chuckles that raise. But the smile she gave me doesn’t resemble this one, one bit. The one I got was more – her.

‘’Good effort, Jeongguk-ah.’’ Yoongi speaks up appearing finally on my right, hand holding onto his Geom once more. Meeting his eyes, they seem soft the smirk he has not too promising for my dignity ‘’Of course you’ve managed to accomplish all the don’ts than do’s in what I’ve taught you, but it was a good lesson nonetheless.’’

Jin stars laughing immediately agreeing with Yoongi, the jokes and mockery following after.

I hate losing, I despise it with my whole being given that I’m not sure if I still have a soul. And even though irritation is brewing under my skin, I can’t find myself to feel real anger of any sorts. She threw me off too much to completely understand the feeling I’m experiencing, in regards of her.

Of course, I still don’t like her, why would I pfffff. This is only a reason more that I need to start and upstage her frankly speaking. I’m not jealous of her being in hyung’s good graces or anything childish like that but…I’m the golden maknae. I need to knock her down a peg or two.

I find myself watching her like a hawk, awaiting the anger and frustration to hit me…it doesn’t. And that’s concerning me slightly.

*A few days later*

I squint automatically at the spill and change of contrasting light that floods into the room. My eyes are quick to adapt but my brain forces me to react humanly. Rounding the corner, I’m met with a wide and open door that leads to the side of the mansion, into the gardens and towards the pathway that leads towards the garage. I sigh annoyed that someone is trying to start a prank war again. It’s a poor prank just leaving the doors open, but the sun that’s shinning inside is frankly bothersome enough to diminish my mood.

I was having a good match going on the whole night, winning every time of course setting new records. The peckish-ness appeared out of nowhere – I fed 2 days ago, there’s no reason why I’m feeling hungry again. I should be fine and yet, my throat itches uncomfortably enough so that I need to take plan B; Take a blood bag from the fridge to calm myself down.

I rarely do this, hating the cold and very artificial taste that the bag leaves on the blood. But the blood bags are there for this exact reason.

I stand at the entrance of the lavish kitchen and dining area on my right and place my hands onto my hips just contemplating my life choices as one does in the middle of the day – or night for some. Why does it have to be so sunny, why can’t it just keep raining. Of course, it has been a while since I’ve seen sunlight, but I sure as hell didn’t miss it that much. It’s absolutely glowing against the polished marble flooring, and reflecting all over the clean white kitchen.

There are bowls on the kitchen island, the presence of them making me listen in a focus for a moment if someone is close and trying to scare me. Silence. Strange. Approaching the kitchen island and avoiding the stray odd ray of sunlight that stretches across the room, thanks to a curtain being moved, I see pastry has been laid out on a wooden desk. Two banana’s lies on another chopping board still intact, while a gooey brown substance resides in a pot next to the pastry.

I’m so confused. What is this supposed to be?

Looking around for Jin hyung I’m left wondering if he’s back at experimenting with human food and trying to impress our annoying temporary human resident. Last time he baked 10 cakes, of different flavours, which the human did thank him over hundreds of times for, but barely made a dent in them. We had to throw them out after 4 days, with Jin hyung reasoning that it’s logical as they were going to go bad. Sounds like bullshit to me as in my time cakes were a delicacy to get often, but I feel as if they are more compact and longer lasting than 4 days but what do I know about human food. Eh.

Glancing towards outside keeping my eyes trained on the marble flooring I pick up on someone talking fast and thoughts of How lovely and kind, she is flooding my mind That girl has a knack for flowers, and it helps that she’s extra nice unlike most of Mr. Min’s friends I block out the gardeners thoughts as they continue wandering about Yoongi…yet again. Shaking my head to clear my mind, I take the chance squinting and frowning at the brightness even more prominent, my eyes trained to the outside watching as Y/N stumbles over her feet but recollects herself. She’s carrying a small bouquet of what seem like lavender coloured roses. I didn’t even know we grow those. The flowers don’t look that nice during the night I’ll admit that. But I know Jin hyung wanted multi coloured flowers, and I know there was a Boquete of blue roses placed on this very kitchen island some time ago.

I watch as the girl jumps exaggeratingly childish and cheerful onto the concrete ground of the mansions floor and short patio. Her bare feet make barely any noise, as she approaches.

‘’Oh, hey what are you doing up still?’’ she asks squinting but due to the contrast she must be experiencing. I’m surprise she spotted me outside. She kinda looks that sort of an adorable-ugly.

‘’You do know that we don’t sleep right?’’ I ask hesitant not sure if she knows this fact. I stare at her, ready to bolt to her aid as she stumbles again once she steps inside closing her eyes and taking 2 steps blindly ahead.

‘’I know that, I meant as in up now. Everyone is usually closed off at this time.’’ she’s quick to explain opening her eyes carefully, looking around still squinting the ugliness still there.

‘’I should be asking you why are you up instead. Aren’t you usually dead asleep by this time?’’ I turn the conversation around, watching as she reaches the counter and places the roses on it, turning back to the doors. I snort to myself at her choice of clothing being a white shirt with jean overalls that hang slightly lose on her.

‘’To be honest I drank one energy drink or two too much, so I’m wide awake.’’ She replies turning to look at me, expression relaxing into a normal one, eyes still blinking quickly a few more times glossiness present in them ‘’Do you mind the doors?’’ the question has my brows rising in question ‘’Is the light bothering you? I can close them, if it is.’’

Surprised I contemplate for a moment, preferring that she does close the door off but there’s something more to her unusual question ‘’I’m fine with them as they are.’’ I lie and sit myself on the second bar stool from the right corner of the kitchen island, making sure I’m keeping a safe distance from the pesky sun.

‘’Oh good.’’ she sighs in relief perking up ‘’To be honest I didn’t even know how much I’ve missed the sun.’’ the short explanation is happy as she practically skips over to the doors anyways.

‘’Hm I bet you do.’’ I mumble reaching out for one rose, seeing with the corner of my eye as she slips into a pair of slippers that she has left near the wall which I didn’t even notice were there.

‘’Do you?’’ looking up she doesn’t seem like she means anything ill with the question. I think she’s naïve enough to be genuinely curious.

I take a moment to think about it looking out at the brightness, while she goes to rummage around the cabinets ‘’I’m not sure.’’ I admit ‘’I miss sightseeing certain places in day-light. It’s just easier going at night, instead of putting a ton of cream to my skin, and having an umbrella along.’’ I ramble remembering the time when I visited Paris alone. I put a ton of sun cream on, and picked out a designer umbrella, but the curious looks and people randomly asking me to take pictures with them as they thought I was a model or something got tiresome really fast.

‘’Hmm, that would guarantee unwanted attention I’m sure.’’ Her comment has me turning to her again curious as it’s like she read right through my thoughts. She’s filling out a vase or just a tall ornate glass up with water, face portraying her concentration with the matter.

‘’So, whenever you aren’t hanging out with vampires are you usually acting as a regular human being then?’’ I ask interested in her answer and maybe to learn more about her. Even though hyungs have quickly grown to thrust her, I still have my reservations. She talks a lot like A LOT but she never really reveals to much exclusively about herself.

I get a snort in reply eyes meeting my own briefly with a slight glare and edge before she turns to the vase and flowers ‘’It differentiates.’’ She starts ‘’I used to have a job high up somewhat, so yeah, I’ve spent the last couple of years just working. Working, sleeping and eating.’’ I’m taken a back at the new information not having expected her to reply seriously ‘’Had to be on point and available 24/7. You know how greedy humans can get.’’ She sighs tiredly. I can’t argue with that statement so I simply offer a faint nod, watching as her fingers work delicately over the flower petals, rearranging them around neatly. She accepts the flower I was toying with, with a small smile ‘’So one day when I was going to a library to do some research for a project I was doing, I stumbled upon a revelation and just decided to quit.’’

Taking a step back she cheers up instantly ‘’Ta-da.’’ I observe her mirthfulness observing her as she steps over to the sink, letting the water on as she runs her hands under it ‘’So with that done, and wanting to avoid confrontation as any normal human being…’’ I roll my eyes at that knowing what lengths humans are willing to take to avoid confrontations ‘’…I hoped on a plane and, after 5 hours from landing I walked right through your front door.’’ She ends her explanation, whipping her hands with a kitchen cloth.

‘’Just like that huh? No attachments nothing?’’ she nods immediately as I tilt my head shifting after to rest it over my bent left arm ‘’Aren’t you humans known for unnecessarily attachments to people and objects?’’

She chuckles at my statement nodding and smirking amused, hands set in motion as she stirs the gooey substance in the small pot. Smells like chocolate but the melted kind ‘’You’re right about that for the most part and people. But I’ve been sort of a nomad my whole life. Never stayed in one place for too long.’’ She shrugs spreading the substance all over the pastry working meticulously and evening it all out ‘’Didn’t find a reason to settle down.’’

‘’Why thought? Did your parents move a lot so that’s why you can’t find a place you genuinely like?’’ having studied a bit of psychology I pick up on her not fully revealed and rounded answer. She’s generalizing herself a lot. Her movements don’t stop or pause in hesitation at my question.

‘’The second part is more correct in a sense. My parents eh they were what they were.’’ Again, she shrugs, placing the two bananas on the edge of the pastry ‘’I moved a lot with my partner actually. We went on adventures and whatnot, ready to marry and all that jazz.’’ I raise both eyebrows feeling perplexed not having expecting that from the likes of her. That sounds a lot harsher than I intended it to but…I would have never expected her to want to marry, or well be serious about it.

For some reason I can’t imagine her being paired up with any regular man or woman, specially not human for some reason. It feels wrong, feels like nobody ordinary like that can handle her.

‘’Tragedy?’’ I ask assuming the progression of her story.

‘’Yep!’’ she replies too cheerfully for the theme of the conversation, popping the ‘p’ childishly ‘’Wasn’t meant to be.’’ She offers a smile as she looks at me, not looking that particular sad. It must have taken her a long time to get over it thought, because her eyes aren’t matching the mask that she has put on. I can heart the almost pitter patter of her slightly speed up heart. And the shakiness to her hands isn’t missed.

‘’Most things aren’t.’’ I agree remembering my own human experience. I was meant to marry a girl from my village. Being a fisherman, third generation I was meant to uphold the family tradition, and have managed to snob the prettiest girl. But yeah. Not everything is destined to happen as you expect them to. Although looking back I know Na-yeon was wrong for me in all aspect. Even back then with my human set mind and precepting I was mostly doing it as it was expected of me, and not because I genuinely wanted it ‘’Also what are you even doing?’’ I find myself frowning as she starts to roll the whole thing together, bananas disappearing inside the roll.

She doesn’t even respond for a moment, and has stopped breathing. I’m about to stand up and help her out force her to breathe when she straightens up grinning widely again that triumphant expression I’ve seen before present.

‘’A HA!!!!’’ she cheers removing her hands away carefully looking extremely proud at the brown coloured roll that’s left on the tray ‘’I present to you, a perfectly made chocolate banana pudding roll!!’’ she presents’ hands pointing at it dramatically.

I glance at the severely unimpressed desert ‘’Judging by that crack right there, it isn’t as perfect as you claim it to be actually.’’

‘’What no!’’ she rushes leaning over it, bumping her hips into the stone counter. Curses raise, sounding way to rough for the image of a soft girl that she’s unintentionally portraying as of today. She preoccupies herself with inspecting the roll ending up frowning as she straightens up hands placed on the counter while she glares at the desert as if it has offended her.

‘’If it’s any consolation if I were still human, I’d eat it.’’ my words have her shoulders softening up as she shifts and eyes it some more. Her lower lips juts out slightly mouth forming into this sort of adorable hurt puppy pout.

But it only lasts a few seconds, lips quick to turn upwards onto a thankful smile ‘’Thanks.’’ Once her eyes meet my own, I get this odd warm sensation in my chest, seeing her brighten up thanks to my words and encouragement.

‘’Your welcome.’’

*A few days later, later*

‘’I don’t understand why I have to be the one to check on her.’’

A pause ‘’Probably because you’re the only one to dislike her the most. And the most probable to not make any advances.’’ At this I immediately fake throwing up, Taehyung chuckles following as on que ‘’See?’’ he points out smirking ‘’Namjoon hyung got almost punched when he accidentally told a pick-up line yesterday. She didn’t even register it, but Yoongi hyung just went off on him. Poor Namjoonie.’’ He tuts shaking his head finding hyungs predicament funny judging by the smirk he has on.

‘’As perceptive as she is, she can be so annoyingly dull.’’ I half snarl exasperated groaning to myself.

‘’That’s mean Jeonggukie.’’ He raises a complaint ‘’Don’t be so cocky. There’s always more than meets the eye. Even in regards of humans.’’

‘’Yeah, we’ve all seen that but…’’ looking at Taehyung that’s still walking besides me, arm brushing against my own mischievously now and then – he’s giving me this fond look as his eyes take me in. We start to slow our steps down, as we’ve reached the doors that led to the library.

‘’But?’’ he insists as I shrug stuffing my hands into the front pockets of the oversize black hoodie I have on.

‘’I just don’t like her.’’ I mumble, glancing towards the door lowering my tone.

‘’Yeah why is that?’’ glancing up I’m surprised at the way he narrows his eyes, and gets sort of serious, licking his lips quickly.

It’s easy to let the frustration rise up again, get a hold of me around my throat choking me up for a moment as I have to think what to tell him exactly. He’s smarter than he looks, always two steps in front of you, catching Yoongi and Jin hyung of guard even though the two of them have practically seen it all in all the years they’ve been alive. This isn’t said in vain when others warn against Taehyung. He’s as cunning as he is stunning.

‘’It’s the way she is! She just gets on my nerves you know.’’ I try lamely frowning gaze going to the doors ‘’The way she breathes is exaggerated, the way she talks, her voice is way to scratchy and of pitched, the lack of manners towards hyungs ugh…’’ If I was human, I’d shudder from anger but I simply close my eyes in frustration that part of her still irking me greatly ‘’…and the way she keeps on wearing hyungs clothes, and not sleeping enough. Does she even eat enough? What is that all about.’’

I end up glaring at Taehyung who nods once holding his serious demander but soon after ends up smirking widely eyes sparkling almost. He arches an eyebrow clearly having thought of something ‘’There’s also the fact that she almost beat your score in Overwatch.’’

‘’THAT TOO!!’’ I half exclaim throwing my hands in the air, then proceed to step up and don for a moment ‘’With my reflexes how is that possible?!’’ Taehyung just keeps nodding in understanding ‘’She’s a child that’s what she is! Doesn’t reach any level where we are, mentally and maturely.’’

‘’Pfff says the late bloomer himself.’’ I stop moving around and give hyung a challenging glare.

‘’I wasn’t that late. Just had extra on my plate in regards of my abilities.’’ I pout going into a similar pose as the beginning just standing closer to the doors.

‘’Aigo, Aigo, Golden maknae.’’ He tuts affectionately walking closer hand coming up to place it over my shoulder as he leans close to me ‘’You’ve got a fair point there yes, but don’t you think that we’ve had to accept you too in the beginning? That there weren’t any let’s say fractions of hesitance’s from our parts?’’

At this my nose scrunches up as I know it’s true, about their reservations when it came to me. My telepathy came at a disadvantage in the beginning, strength easily frightening even Hoseok hyung who is considered to be the best fighter in our clan.

‘’That’s it Jeonggukie. I see how your clogs are starting to turn. Do you see my point?’’

‘’She’s human hyung. There’s a difference.’’ At this he waves his hand straightening up.

‘’Meaning it’s in your favour if you really despise her that much. She’ll die judging by her bad lifestyle choices in a decade or two. Maybe three.’’ He shrugs attitude way to uncaring unlike our conversation a few days ago where he praised her and defended her loudly against Jimin who was upset at her yet another refusal. So, the switch has me second guessing him, and myself as…I didn’t even think about her dying.

It causes that boulder that hasn’t left my stomach to churn and twist, burning even at the thought of imagining seeing her lifeless body.

I don’t even notice that we’ve fallen silent until hyung speaks up again ‘’Anyways I’m gonna go find Jin hyung and maybe convince him to go to the city with me. I need new pair of shoes and a new collection is rumoured to be just on the verge of launching.’’ He wiggles his eyebrows patting my shoulder for a moment in consolation before he’s backing away, right hand stuck in the pocket of his pants whilst he gives me a finger gun with his left-hand winking a cold breeze of air whooshing past me, his eyes for a brief second turning icy blue ‘’Good luck, Bunny. And be nice to our human. They are fragile creatures after all.’’

I tilt my head in confusion staring at him ready to ask what he means by that but he disappears in a blink of an eye taking off leaving me alone. Even though I don’t exactly need air to breathe I do take it in and sigh, recollecting the confusion that are my emotions and have been for the past few days. Spinning on my heel I glance towards the double doors which are decorated with golden motifs, having been painted into white the wood barely peeking through unlike the inner side that displaying the many years the tree had before it was chopped down.

Pressing onto the handle of the left door I silently without making any sounds enter the big room from another perspective, the other entrance being in the ballroom whilst this one leads inside from a corridor that connects to the music room in the back of this huge house.

Nothing seems out of the usual as I take a look at the ground floor. Nothing moves either. I can hear her speed up heart and breathing, murmurs now and then cutting of the serenity. I walk over to the table that has been left since the “party” we’ve had. The name plates have been removed from its surface but it has been filled up by different books, and scrolls even. I glance over the few notebooks and stray papers here and there easily recognising Namjoon’s handwriting as well as Yoongi hyungs. The cracked screen of the iPad is mocking me as it lays unsafely on one corner of the table.

What has my immediate attention is a different looking notebook. I smirk in amusement as this handwriting is as of a child, words scribbled down in a fast pace, letters somewhere half formed or just distorted, even smudged. There’s an ink stain from a hand near the edge of the page, which I brush my own fingers over it. I can’t read through the text as it’s written in another language, and the choice of letters themselves are unusual. I don’t think I can even pronounce any word.

I’m not really here to offer my academic assistance as I barely speak any English myself, but it’s kind of nice to see that her character is clearly portrayed in the way she writes, and how she fills the page up irregularly. She’s as chaotic in real life and on paper.

Musing for a moment further spotting glasses and bottles of water on the other end of the lengthy table, I do glance upwards towards the second floor, hearing as a pen or something small as a pen clatters hitting the ground. By the lack of movement, I already figured she was asleep.

Silly human. Her life style is really un-well and extremely badly planned. Stepping around the table my intention on getting the girl and carrying her to her bedroom, gets postponed as my eyes shift onto a book, that for whatever reason has my feet stopping.

The gold of the cover is unusual between the rest of the books with used and dried up leather and yellowed pages. I pick it up, buried in between a stack of smaller scrolls and encyclopaedias actually. I frown at the title; it’s about mythology. Every kind actually.

What’s the most puzzling is that it’s written by hand. And the handwritings differentiate. Multiple people worked on this, and judging by the smell of the ink and paper things have been added or pulled out. Pictures are drawn here and there, and languages vary from all around the world from what I can judge by some symbols and added explanations in English.

There’s a myth about Thor, expanding at least 20 pages. Another myth about Pele a Hawaiian goddess covers well over 30 pages with many illustrations, and instructions from what I can assume for tattoos.

Shifting around I do recognize myths from the hand drawn images instead of their native titles. Nearing almost the end of the book, as I sniff at the pages and feeling like a complete idiot for a moment, I have to sit down as these are completely new pages added to this. Taking a look across the table, I find the A4 format pages placed near the corner just ahead of me, along with an old type-y looking pen with ink next to it.

Turning a page, I recognise the writing as being Jin hyungs which completely catches me of guard. Is this what they have been working on? Writing about myths?!

Don’t we have a coven war brewing?

Shuffling through the many written pages coming to the last one, I stare blankly for a moment the myth about Dangun which I know as it’s of Korean mythology. And as appropriate it is written in Korean.

What am I missing here? Why have they been working on this?! Why did other people work on this?! I pull the pages going slowly backwards, seeing stories actually unfolding. It’s not hard to connect the dots after a few pages, that these are from Yoongi hyung. But these are dating WAYYYY back in the millennia it feels like when hyung was as young as we are now it seems. But he was more mature definitely.

I frown at a half empty page where a sketch has been drawn into a half finished only the golden frame being finished. The sketch though - I can tell that linear lines are spears and, some even arrows that are sticking from what seems to be a pile of bodies on the floor? Only one figure is standing in the centre of the picture, with their back towards us armour robust and yet slim in a sense. I narrow my eyes at the handle of the soldier – the pommel is shaped like a pouncing lion.

Battle of Hwangsanbeol

That’s the title. I know about it from what hyung told me, but this is written much more in detail. The main explanation is from what humans are being told in schools, I remember it from college when I studied mechanics years ago. But the new ink underneath and Yoongi hyungs writing, is an indicator that this is where his story begins.

He didn’t take sides in particular, changing armours as he shifted from a Silla’s soldier into a soldier of the Tang army. The similarity is there with added commentary to make you know more about how life was then. What gets my attention is the comradery between hyung and another fellow that name is very generalized. They’ve struck a friendship and have covered for one another in battle, which had him switching sides and to remain with the Silla side out of curiosity and maybe even naivety he describes it. He didn’t have as much experience then as he does now to have judged everything smartly enough, even though the odds were clearly in Silla’s favour.

The praise towards the human soldier is tremendous, giving him full credit of saving his life more than once. And even though he was a turned by that point into an immortal, the praise has even me feeling grateful towards the man.

He did raise up in ranks, but he never left Yoongi behind. During the main battle after the slaughter, he describes his fellow soldier as being remorseful, as they stared across the field of many fallen soldiers and warriors and manslaughter that stretched miles away it had seemed at the time. It was brutal but necessary – I forget that hyung is from a completely different timeline sometimes. It’s easy to mistake him, and others for younger vampires.

The solider…tilting my head I spot a few notes written lightly over hyungs hand-writing. My frown deepens as the anger I felt before towards her starts to simmer - it’s not hard to see that this is Y/N’s handwriting. Her comments are absolutely ridiculous, playing hyung’s praise off – she’s dismissing it. How dare she? What does she know about wars, she was born in peaceful times, I bet to a good family! She hasn’t never experienced the horrors of wars, the stench, the travesty the fear the…

‘’No!’’ a shout has me glancing up stiffly. I notice how my fingers have curled into fists and how tight my jaw has locked together from anger ‘’…don’t…’’ she breathes out her heart beat now hammering. Confused I glance upwards thinking that she’s playing a joke on me. I’m ready to fucking snap at her – if she really is pulling a joke on me right now, I’m going to kick her out of the house myself.

‘’Ah no…’’ her words shift a cry following. What? Standing up I wait for amount further listening to her speed up breathing that’s sounds like hysteria ‘’NOOOO DON’T TAKE HIM NOOO!!!!!!’’ her cry is of terror and panic. It absolutely shocks me to my core but has me moving upwards, reaching the second floor and top of stairs in a second ‘’NO HE’S MY SOU…’’ she continues to shout switching to another language panic rising.

I’m completely disoriented by the mess that I find on the upper floor, books pulled and settled in piles on the ground, as posters of maps hang up over the book’s shelves. The 2 floor is sort of a balcony going half around the room above both entrances. After legit 2 spins around myself, I pick up on a mattress actually located in the very corner of the library. There’s a sheet stuck to the bent down ceiling, and a ton of blankets are thrown around the mattress.

I can see her finally, leg sticking up shoulder peeking over as she shifts onto her side ‘’Agápi mou, agápi mouuuuu…’’

‘’Shhhhh Y/N-ah.’’ I whisper as I run to her side, kneeling right next to her, my hands coming in contact with her overheated skin. She’s drenched in sweat, and twitching like crazy as if she’s fighting someone ‘’Wake up Y/N-ah it’s just a dream it’s not real, it’s not real!’’

‘’No…don’t go…’’ I pull her body into my lap without a second thought. As I brush her hair away from her face she flinches away probably because of my cooler hand. She’s overheating. What catches me of guard and has me whining is the tears that are running down her cheeks.

‘’Y/N-ah wake up, please wake up! It’s not real okay, it’s just a nightmare! You’re here with me in the library safe and sound! Come on you silly human wake up.’’ I urge her on rambling shaking her gently. She startles awake, eyes flying open hands in fists ready to fight. I half expect her to punch me but once her eyes find mine, she ends up smiling tiredly body immediately going lax in my hold.

‘’My love.’’ She says in Korean right hand reaching up, left palm pressed flat against my chest where my heart is.

‘’Don’t fall back asleep.’’ I try as her eyes fall close back again, her breathing having stabilized somewhat ‘’The one time I legit want to hang out with you, you suddenly want to sleep ah? The disrespect.’’ I laugh worried as I take her in. The bags under her eyes are prominent, and her cheeks which looks sort of more sunken aren’t reassuring me with her wellbeing at all.

I stare as her eyes blink open, taking me in clearly her hand that’s resting over my chest raises up shakily to cup my other cheek.

The blissful expression that settled before turns into a frown and a pout, as her eyes take my features in the change in mood confusing me with what to do. I readjust my hold gently, holding her steadily in my arms, making sure I’m not pressing to much of my skin against hers. I’ve heard from others that humans don’t like our colder skin in particular.

‘’Jeongguk-ah.’’ She states to which I offer a smile immediately as she seems to be coming back from wherever her mind took her.

‘’Yep. That’s my name.’’ I reply feeling her body tense up but not prominently. She’s waking up slowly at her own pace. She hums suddenly and pulls her hands back. I have to stop myself from wanting to tell her that it’s fine if she wants to touch me. That only conflicts my emotions all the more.

‘’Sorry am…was I making too much noise?’’ she asks gathering her thoughts, eyes darting around getting clearer as she notices the odd position we’ve fallen into.

‘’No, not at all.’’ I says wanting to immediately start reassuring her that everything is fine and she didn’t do anything wrong, but I have a hunch she’s not going to believe me either way ‘’Hyung wanted to see where you were exactly, and I was bored so. Two birds in one stone.’’

I help her up, as she starts to shift wanting to sit on her own. Silence begins after my brief explanation and after I’ve helped her sit back down onto the mattress. Without her permission I grab for a warm looking blanket and pull it over her shoulders, sitting down properly right next to her having this need to be as close as possible. Maybe I should offer a hug? Please say yes.

‘’What time is it even?’’ comes her question before I can ask her my own. She starts sifting more towards me, in the beginning of her sudden restlessness keeping the blanket around herself as she reaches with both hands upwards to rub her fingers across her eyes.

‘’Around 10AM.’’ I reply glancing towards the curtains, that are letting through sunlight from outside across the polished wooden floors only ‘’I think Jin hyung missed you at breakfast today.’’ I offer a smile while she pulls her hands away, running one through her messy hair quickly. She’s hunched forward into what seems like an awkward position – her gaze still seems far off like she’s not fully present yet.

‘’Oh yeah breakfast.’’ She mumbles glancing to the end of the mattress, to which I notice more pages and a silver notebook that has slid from the edge of the makeshift bed the papers all sprawled on the ground clearly by accident ‘’I didn’t mean to sleep.’’ She starts clearly her brain slowly starting up as she looks at me finally absently scratching the back of her head ‘’My back started to hurt, so I figured I should lay down or lean against the wall.’’ Ah so that’s why there are so many blankets piled up against the wall behind us.

‘’You should think more about getting proper sleep.’’ I comment ‘’I’m sure as great as this place is and cosy, I bet a proper bed would feel a lot nicer.’’

My heart and stomach flutter as she breaks into a small smile looking back to me amused ‘’Heard that before.’’

I shake my head immediately ‘’Uh huh. And if you’d listen, I think that would magically stop too.’’

She chuckles at my words, the gesture filling me with sort of pride that I actually made her smile and laugh. Oddly I want to comfort her properly. I want to make sure that she’s alright. Seeing her so distressed it…I can’t help but to still feel a bit freaked out myself. Her state is worrisome. Traces of her tears are still present over her puffy cheeks.

‘’So...’’ I start awkwardly ‘’Are you okay?’’

At this she looks away smile disappearing slowly ‘’I’m fine.’’ Another smile raises over her slightly dry lips this one clearly forced. She’s putting up a front – I just want to help her.

‘’You…’’

‘’I’m fine!’’ she’s quick to add not even looking at me swiftly pushing herself away, crawling over to the fallen notes, hands prompt with gathering her things ‘’Its fine. Totally fine.’’ She repeats it like a mantra, almost doubling over when she attempts to stand up ‘’I got it!’’ after the exclamation she’s up on her feet, proudly smiling goofiness making an appearance ‘’Totally A okay!!!’’

Frowning I’m quick to stand up following as she starts walking forward, feet slipping into her slippers before descending down the steps.

‘’You sure are saying that a lot for someone that just woke up screaming.’’ I don’t hold myself back this time. Even though I can’t see her face as she’s slowly descending down, the spring in her step isn’t present as much. She always walks with a bounce to her.

‘’This is the first time, it happened.’’ She huffs walking straight over to the table once her feet reach the ground. I grimace at her blatant lie, having heard her before in similar states that make much more sense now. But it’s always Yoongi that’s was at her side, specially whenever she went to sleep. It is different completely different to hear her from across the house, than from seeing her up close. It gives new meaning to her as a person.

‘’Yes, but it’s the first time that I’ve seen you sleep and wake up like that.’’ I point out as she places her notes on the desk, probably noticing the opened book I’ve left behind in my haste. Her head remains turned towards it, eyes going over the opened page ‘’You have nightmares every time you sleep, don’t you?’’

Taking the last two steps my feet touch the ground floor. I wait for her response as I make my way over to her left side, standing near her but putting enough distance to give her personal space. She flips the golden book to a close, placing a random one atop of it, shoulders shrugging in the meantime. Is she trying to hide it away from me? Or herself?

‘’A lot of people have nightmares, Jeongguk-ssi.’’ The serious look she gives me, irks me in a bad way. And not as in before where I felt agitated selfishly thinking of myself, but in a way that she’s treating me distantly - like I’ve been treating her more or less. The honorific is just the cheery on top. I think the phrase ‘give him some of his own medicine’ is appropriate to point out right now.

‘’Not like that.’’

She keeps staring at me upholding the glare she settles on. It’s so different from what I’ve seen her be and act around others. For the first time, I feel like I see another side of her which she clearly doesn’t like to reveal to anyone. Or anyone that’s not hyung. It’s starting to really bother me. Of course, I don’t really want her hurting or in pain, what just had occurred is something I’m ever going forget, but I’m sort of glad that I was here to snap her out of whatever nightmare she was in. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. She looked completely heartbroken, and lost.

Seeing that she has taken up a stubborn approach, it’s hard to miss the way her body trembles. Wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, and a simple t-shirt the difference in temperature has her obviously chilly maybe even cold.

Given that she doesn’t intend to lose whatever staring contest we have going on, I end up breaking it and reach for the end of my hoodie, tugging it over my head smoothly ‘’Here.’’ I say offering. She doesn’t reveal how surprised she is on the outside – only her heart jumping slightly does – but she does raise an eyebrow in question ‘’You look cold and neither of us need hyung to scold us if you’ll catch the flue.’’ If I was a human, I know my cheeks would be bright red as my reasoning is clearly lame.

She accepts the hoodie with a quiet ‘thank you’ and tugs in on quickly ‘’Okay so, where was I? You can help me move some stuff and get books I need…’’ I’m pleasantly surprised that she’s quick to fall into her work after what just happened. I do keep myself quiet as this is clearly a distraction. But the smile that raises over my lips I cannot stop. Even with her back turned towards me, she looks good in my clothes. My hoodie suits her. And I’m sure my scent will mix better with hers than hyung’s.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Copyright 2020© by barbika1508. All rights reserved.

Dictionary: Dangun - was the legendary founder and god-king of Gojoseon, the first Korean kingdom Gaya also rendered Kaya or Karak - is the presumed language of the Gaya confederacy in southern Korea Geom - is the generic term for "sword", but more specifically also refers to a shorter straight-blade, double-edged sword with a somewhat blunted tip Lavender roses - is often a sign of enchantment and love at first sight. Those who have been enraptured by feelings of love and adoration have used lavender roses to express their romantic feelings and intentions. Agápi mou /Greek/ - My love

DRONE3

DRONe3

.<0_O> — — µ — <_<)))) DRONe³ And other Poems and writings by James McFarlane Telepath/Necromancer James McFarlane·Friday, May 18, 2018 . Telepath may 2018 Pencil sharp, smoke a dart early morning engines start Crescent moon blue grass tunes frost on the window and my spoon. Dopamine and serotonin, pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life, on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. Train passing dread grasses, Sage burning sky lasting, electric currents flowing now, necromancer up and down, Dopamine and serotonin pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. -Seumas Necromancer May 2018 Floating wearily but in some comfort overhead. Making sheets move on my bed. Conversations in and out, speaking without our mouths. Blue fires light up your darkness please don’t ever find me as heartless I love you always one two three here’s the bass now jam with me Exhale eternally into the mic, angel choirs out on strike. Necromancer up and down, rein / radius across town, soon I will return with thee to this town/life Ville/vie. –Seumas (New Revisions) James McFarlane +Seamus to thee, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code DRONe -Seumas (James) Monday, February 22, 2016 OK thisone’s right off the wall: this is a strangely written and personal poem It’scalled “Siren heart Drone” (meant for a mature audience) A’ hem…. I’m nervous, I don’t freestyle often I wish there was a way to put this near the bottom of my timeline, it’ll be my latest and greatest lyric though, + POSETIVE INDUCTION — The positive attraction to your conductive psyche, is a form in itself existing in me, subjective almost ironically, the circuitry, being both electricity and imaginary cranked up high by your fun chemistry by way of the cerebral. (Which is flattering me) The circuitry with chemistry minus proximity, (causing a reaction deliberately) the electrical frequencies that you received from me were; artsy descriptions in accents I read. Other elements of me manifesting masculinity through my dorky frequency, gave off feedback that, officially; for me heralded the dawn of freed energy. So… metaphysical seed, dropped and sewn that day, (I guess what I am trying to say is): My girl my girl, don’t lie to me, oceans away your eyes can see, my bending sending light like this, in response to; the drone from your white laced lips. For the of lack of your treble and charge of your base, my “methadone”, White Light/White Heat, can take its place, anti-acidic mantra chi, surrounding me, a black dot in space. Divided by the curve encased, the metaphysical takes place. The fact that we’re in touch today, makes sirens blare and drones play, I’ll send this over right away, and then appropriately play, ‘beautiful face’ a newer way, I could elaborate for 3 straight days. Now what follows is what’s next on the fret board of your hex. It’s between, us; a fish out of net. So this will be all they get. ok here goes, ya, this is for the ladies in town I know that sounds weak but I blame the moons energy for you cute young women never being around when I finally spit the rhyme on solid ground, neway this is about you, you and the town where I choose, and choose to settle down instead of just stop swimming and drown, no more worries, no frowns, I’m gunna work it on out, cause I’m bound for the tides, not the sound, yea, ok, you know what I mean, yea k here I go, you ready? You steady? I stole the crown from the underground, I thought it would look nice with your gown, I’m upward bound so, are you down with my verbs and nouns? I don’t freestyle rap but this might as well be,flowin literally right now cause i come down hard with a sound that this new town including your highness have minds to breakdown, so get down breakdown, my chic mystique-psychologique will make you turn around and blush while your current boyfriends drunk on the ground cause he substitutes love with down, he doesn’t have an ear, genetically, to hear your siren sound for which I was born to kinetically harmonize, desensitize and heal your weary eyes. This is the treatment we need now ill even show you how, like a bow that goes up and down, helping us resonate these bloody strings, while the clipper ship sinks…… Sinks with the low tide.c’mon lets head home. The moons making my fire rise. That means soon it will be high tide, the ocean spray it stings my eyes, so let’s go inside, its morning time, look at color in the sky the sun is just about to rise. MY clipper ship’s on seas of rye. Empty bottles of scotch catch her in the eye. I’m not afraid of all those guys, they’re lucky they even have a sty. I’ve seen farms that would make you cry. These pale blue eyes are all but mine. And yours are like that brand of dye, that in our last summer together, we ALL tried, permanent like the purple in my mind’s eye or the in the dimly lit sky the night I officially died, all from a med, instead of one I took 10, benzodiazepines, all I wanted to do was compound the prescribed effect at the right dose they make a nervous wreck feel and appear normal so I took them, now I’m in debt, but only tried this cause u have me in check, ready to knock the crown off my head, make it your golden cauldron instead. You know I’m good with shocking steel and know how to forge blend anneal so this golden crown is probably real, and I assure u from the other room that it’s safe to use took a meal. Only cause it’s my deal I leave out the part about removing toxic alloys by melting steel, adding chemicals from the field and as the method never revealed used those same chemicals, that we all feel, all the time in our head to make tiny slow moving particles to turn make gold out of lead. So neways with confidence I said GO AHEAD! But I couldn’t lie to her, so I yelled from the other room, “u should know, that thing is gold but it use to be lead. She laughed, hesitated, placed the pewter cauldron on the stove instead and put the golden crown on her head. She finally walked down the hall and into her room where I was using dust pan and broom, she didn’t say nething, just got up on her bed which was shrouded with purple threads forgetting her glasses, still she picked up my book and read, I said here ill read aloud for you instead, within a few minutes of reading she started to turn red, the stove was on low so she got herself fed THAN served us both breakfast in bed. SUDDENLY I awake and see that we are parked at the end of a pier in some town in Quebec, I yell out stupidly from my stuper, WERE ON A PIER! She had good laugh about that occurrence on several occasions. but ya I took too many pills and was all sleepy on our road trip, all in all, yet again, I fed my head then lost all my cred, it being an accident, it made me sleep like the dead, that’s when I lost you, or you lost me, literally you looked everywhere and couldn’t find me, conscious or not, id soon figure id been stung by the bee, the most painful thing however, and my only memory was later that night when you were beside me, or was it he that got there before me, ok now I must stop and back up, the cheap words pouring from me, telling the details of this pathetic story it’s pissing me off, like losing the love of your life to a drug, and then officially to drugs plural, like 5 years of fucking up pretty much following this one night, the moment you realized you had lost the one girl, the one you compare every girlfriend you get ultimately fucking that up too, the one. its caused ache in whets left of my drug affected love starved blackened heart and caused my excellent poem to go right off the rails, so I’ll get on topic and ill even do it in rhyme, what inspires me to try to try, it’s the ache in my heart that is its key function now when I think of this girl and am reminded of the moment I lost her. ok here goes, regardless, we were in bed together, and from your sleepy head where your soul lies and you can never die, I heard your memories cry, and as I realized all the days I tried so hard to try but wouldn’t, couldn’t try and now I can’t cry is because I was always too shy in your unfulfilled eyes despite being my inspiration for the last 4 or 5 years of drugs and art with your recent if u can even call it that separation the focus intensifies about u and other girls like the sweet PortugueseIrish girl from the only psych ward I recommend at hotel diu in Kingston where I was actually treated properly (maybe cause it’s a catholic hospital, maybe cause I was so fucked up I appeared catatonic for days till this fox brought me down and romanced me for a month) she’s your competition….who contributed to my psychological cardiomyopathy however, a number of “the ones” but evenbefore that I was fucked up, I was the youngest psychiatric patient in Ontario or something, I learned how to smoke inside a smoking room in the shithole Scarborough grace when I was fifteen, I think I checked myself in hen I was twelve just to get away, that may have been what that asshole head of psychiatry was talking about. I also hit the highest highs, and the most demonic abysses of suicidal advanced psychotic depression, and took more abuse for it from nurses drs and the police, not to mention my family, but I still unconditionally love and am loved by my parents and grandparents, Jesus, I sacrificed my life and goals to save my families souls literally offed myself when I was 16 years old to end the devils elaborate foothold on me the people around the household appliances and machines, the behavior of living things the weather and the temperature of the room depending on my tortured state the only common theme is that others hurt and share it with me and my empathy kind of bounces back like an echo, I express and receive the grief while later, I only know this because when I fall, which I don’t do nemore thanks to medical science, its all about them.. but now this, she cried in her sleep and the only difference about these tears the ones that dried before her, is that the tears were for the two of us,not for being hurt but for me getting hurt and that hurt her, and it came out of her in a subconscious later state, kind of like me, this happened something like five years ago and it never gets old, ok , so here’s how THIS sad story goes; back to you, we were basically sleeping on the ground, I was tied up and bound, mothers little helper’s cheque bounced, I stupidly blame the devil in benzos but as of last Chinese new year I now denounce him, clonazepam is free from sin,(the cure), which I am resistant to so even though in the name of a better life I took 1/16th of an ounce I was still wide awake laying beside you, thinking only to myself about how I fucked up, it wasn’t even my own script at the time like u even need to know this it was a gift from the big Mc the tragically crip former editor in chief of legal manuscript, this bug makes the dj tick, and he made me, (sick) so (to this day I thank god for the count and amount per pill per day,,, throw your troubles away and pray that it was ok to stray from your holy bible, “psychology today”) So I was now bound for the pound, complete and total disgrace all around, from the moment u made that sound I knew our plans were going down that I would leave town, shoot smack and somehow return because YOU specifically gave the instruction to COME BACK! But things got whack I dropped out of school after taking philosophy which I passed, took drugs then relaxed let the nothing drone blare and move towards and away from the past managed to stay out of the psycho shack and somehow followed the chemical and psychological path out of the woods, fuck that was one long sidetrack, but it’s over, now, it took a year of wandering to end it but I did so…back before I initially left town your eye lids were down. I’d spent our whole friendship collectively letting you down by being ur favorite one in town and not responding in a way that could let us…. Fuck I was a clown,ever since I pulled a sigmen froid and used white to get off opiates it’s been renown but like the psychologist before me once declared, down (heroin) so satisfying in the right dose, has basically fulfilled their open ended prediction for the drugs future, in one shot like vaccine, the queen of all drugs, administered in the highest healthy dosage intravenously is the cure all found in Montreal, and then a deliberate clean cut from all non prescribed recreational narcotics, that is until the dreaded lady in white shows up on ur doorstep, I say let her in, and move away never to see her again, with the experience and satisfaction of the act of consuming heroin as your catalyst to change your life and only take clonazepam. So before all that we had a healthy friendship, it was doomed but I loved you so u kept me around and there was all sorts of ways we got down without ever fooling around except this time I discreetly describe further down when my phone ran out of batteries while you went to town , I thought I was a fuckin martyr because all id make u do is dance, that’s the gods truth so baaaack to me not being a creep, I geometrically see the opposing symmetrical verticy of our rhombus reveal its true ego as FUCKING TRAPAZOID when I hear your inner pain, I’m no hypnotist (yet) but u were zonked after a day of mosh pitting ultimately falling for the other guy, while I slept in the grass like an ASS. you let out a whimper in your sleep and two out of three of us knew, this chick is deep, from then on I took the title of weak, I had let my biological ancestors down with swords in their hands and in my hand your crown, and still I let you down, AND YOU STILL even tried several sexy and awkward times to make it happen and I let you down, u can tell a social disease when the same set of words are used multiple times to rhyme with other words that have that sound i.e. : I let you down. In that strange little town. It’s been well over a year and to end on a harmonious note after all this purple melancholy. I’m gunna say two words to you and they are not” “I do” It’sI’m sorry. I’m sorry lately for this poem, but mostly I’m sorry for not maturing into the man you thought I could be. I’m recovered from my early episodes now, took 16 years but I used the gear to properly hear and respond without fear, if only I did this within the time frame we had, Now were both sad. And I don’t wanna upset u, ur glowie or ur boyfriend or neone else, soo I’m gunna play a song, it’s called : one thing that keeps this black heart beating””(referring to my heart: that “upturned bass drum” The thing that keeps it beating is the dissonant and strangely beautiful siren song that echoes in my mind as the inspiration, “love” and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophies with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the momentmy phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche, at this moment I can prove using circumstantial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indecisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and physical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living things on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not necessarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings crescendos babies,, are when the energy isn’t circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, and the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, imparts her secret harbored denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, whether the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivotal form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense, my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misinterpreted until the last few seconds before the line went dead the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, literally loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symmetrically and quite similarly to your perfect face and body only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me, from the beach into the city, while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella, drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I stop, wait my energies charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged abilities that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit can’t explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery, the almost dead battery, poetic license and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, I’ve always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know threes more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours, in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, they knock me out, blow to the head, I’ll miss away you time instead, that lilliad inside your mind….it’s way too late you’re so unkind, but one important thing u need, to know I know u love to read, do not read too much to your seed, it makes a flower yer indeed, with pain killing power guaranteed, but this makes a subconscious need to find a source for output feed, destined to be completely freed ad finally have the urge to read, its therapy apparently, the experiment of reading aloud and they drift off on angels clouds, you think their gunna make you proud, well brace yourself, speakers are loud, they developed and were well endowed, language and its mystic power it not to be strewn on the flowers, this is my dependant variable, the words the use on me were terrible, a bird a seed knowledge unbearable, though every word is understandable, hypnotic methods subconscious dependable, lovely developmental psychology is the cause of my constant source of energy what I was born to do was reap, infinite knowledge in my sleep a steady drone of literature, I’m older now administer reality and life in place of shame rejection and disgrace, aside from my abilities that serve me independently, instinct survival evolution, speed all factors meant to help me breed, but would you read that to your seed, your surly growing potent weed, I’m not a normal human being I spend time speaking hearing seeing, proving while your disagreeing now the sheep are all fleeing, my purpose hear is slowly weaning I’m a negative source of positive energy, that means nothing drones glowies and friends that are enemies, all that I needs a path and an receiver, a sound to ride on, subwoofer and tweeters, it’s the music u shared with me that keeps me going The proof that our signal reached desired objectives, was clear to my ear which contained an elective, my minds using psychology to be less selective, behavioral science removes the block painlessly love, loss and malpractice grew my circuitry aimlessly, evolving survival instincts team with nature, my chemical background makes life like a phase, the instincts resulting are acute like a razor and amplified abilities through manipulating manipulative chemicals without wavers, resulting in behavior that can reach and amaze her… the extent of the damage is to be overlooked, by using knowledge and memory or reading a book design and time weren’t key features its transference of whines from student to teacher, let me out of detention you feminine creature ill read aloud it’s the right way to reach her, the demand and supply was shot at the sky and with lasers for eyes that reflect off her kind I was surprised to find that in no time I heard her wine, go out of her mind, and through her elective design I read junkie sublime and the fidelity was just fine for my desensitized mind. Literally proving her love up against my undying lazerlove therefore, proving that from that moment in time It was (now literally) one(the one) and another(me) falling “in love “officially identified by the subjective and objective forms that equal true love, for a time, which in rhyme and time I now feel it was divine, it’s began and ended in one harmonious line (in a Scottish accent no less) and buried in our minds getting weaker over time the signal is dying the whine and her trying has kept me flying farther away for lack of a sign that she was officially mine, but my nose it did grind on the stone learning life through the drone all on my own stealing crowns off of thrones, almost completely destroying my home, getting dipped in chrome, and then ground to the bone,, but that’s ok now because I how I know, I made her come through a phone, I’ve reaped what id sewn, now I am grown, with skills to hone no more wearing a cone, from the unknown to the known heralded by the morningdrone which is an inaudible tone interacting metaphysical rods and cones in my everlasting home among milestones made of greymatter behind bone in the form of the intangible moan that has royalties owned by the one xylophone a tone so foreign and feminine it may be that of a banshee or crone, the soil of my subconscious, is where I’ve been instructed and shown but my chance was blown there already something growin that knows the suns light is shown, now I’m alone, why did I buy that bus ticket when I could have flown. Another way of iterating this love story is an s follows introduction, obstruction instruction, induction, seduction production reduction destruction I’m trying to link two portions of this production, causing a reaction like a light turning on send notification from yin to yang (2 great friends of the opposite sex ultimately consummating their union in the way nature wanted it to be) but for us it was highly evolved in that even over the lo-fi filter of cell phones she was sending her love, whether she got off or not that id like ton know, but,, I got the drone of her during, (which if I’m not wrong is typically the main attraction for most women, their anatomy makes for a better “during” in her case conveniently, I’ll admit, without my flawed physical presence, I’m sure she didn’t just give up when my phone ran out of batteries, she was by the banks of her own lagoon, , the stimuli for me, the understanding an witnessing this correlative reaction, correlative because based on all the evidence, the great friendship which was WE were In Love,,,, that passes by my standard and I’m a philosophy grad, this Idea of me and this one girl being in love ISNT EVEN PRAGMATIC like most of my theories, the ONLY thing that get in the way of it being classified as nething between us other than, well I’m afraid to word it frankly because it makes y philosophy look dumb, the only factor threatening this TRUTH, this explainable objective form, is.. the time frame, the setting and the timing of the whole ordeal, my argument is that my reserved intense devotion that was pretty much spellbound, was appropriately (although delicately and let’s say modernly)relieved back to square one, literally and true even though it’s in the days ahead, metaphysic means dead.\\ I’m pretty lonely, so I make allot of art these days, like so; since she left me for dead and we both had left town, with thoughts of her crying asleep on the ground, my mind plays a drone, just to keep the pain down, it’s the girls very essence, oh to hear those pipes sound, if I was there this reel could have burned her house down, But our minds were both trying, Scottish lyrics I had, her bagpipes were sighing, and droning like mad, even though I was dying to get under her plaid, her fingers were flying and the lyrics were “rad the sound of her drones blared through the aero phones, I had broken a string and the bow had no rozen, but her body remembered what she had forgotten, string breaking caused her heat up and harden, this dissonant silence was her chance to depart from his flaws and his jigs and his odds and his rigs and ivy wrapped wand honey drippin upon this Venus in tartan who gushed forth the art of his masculine heart, the yin joins the yang and d string goes twang, The key that she played in was the string that I broke;I awoke in a doria mile off the coast. I swear by the sword of Ulysses and QueenMary’s crown you can’t quiet this siren when she fools around. Sending me to the moon and abyss on her sound It’s siren heart drone and that’s written in stone like I said, STELLAR, and you can TELLHER, most likely shell be a be a BETTER SPELLER, most likely ull say THE WORST THING EVER cause you’re a BULLSHIT SELLER, wave got mutual friends that FLOCK TOGETHER, social cannibals up shit creek FOREVER “sharp fanged teeth sheep” identified by Brethr in touch with friends of mine with FEATHERS, who govern karma AND THE WEATHER harmonizing OUR ENDEVOUR dissonance and TAKING PLEASURE in currents charged “+”, sea vessel PROPELLERS droning on for OH SWEET NEVER, nothing “like” inevitably BETTER the next “day, mon” frère, myself sharply dressed, a new pair of ‘GO GETTERS’ high, but fly, “the local YELLER” inscribes, as I dictate the true, (and prescribed), (in “”blood)-”LETER”! …BUY LETTER!”technique””’s psychology thesis of persuasion,-through love cure for; pain from shame stemming from taking the blame for the psychopaths that are perfectly sane who corporally, “embodying hells flames, wicked games to derange, the use of tools to cause pain, so the hands free to gain more control without shame ….and words that confuse and lead them in. vein cutting through lies and psychosomatic pain” making it rain your blood to put out the flames, an empty vessel that openly claims he righteously bears the right to OFFSET karma in his favorite time double negatives stuck on rewind with the fist or the tool of thing without mind, just current flowing into itself sustaining itself by shackling you with a voice that speaks truths that the vessel and devil greedily use to ultimately abduct you consume love your subconscious would refuse to give, to lose, so you wind kicking yourself while he rips on your soul defacing and displacing what’s left of you, what set you apart from a caved in shoe who’s uneven because the others got two, souls are unbreakable but if he breaks you, ill have the words the voice and the truth, the vessel in which to put soul into you, love and affection reflecting on you a new pair of shoes and so basically you feeling loved and in good mood no longer producing that parasite food, by walking and talking, souls in your shoes, while my bare feet support prescribed truth, a chemical network of mes and you ultimately held together with glue your love is the only way I can get through my psychological problems of which I have used to heat cook and serve us both food they drive me to supplementing love with miscues, attempts to draw a good picture of shoes, that drawn the attention of someone like you, or someone who offers a love I can’t refuse, because it me who also has many a bruise, the glue the chemical I trust and I use are prescribed and administered with bruit force and tools, leaving the chemically gifted unloved and unused and undone on the run with the songs you have sung, giving u satisfaction, and leaving u hung out to dry by the sick and the dumb, and the one, that u can give a gift to, is the only way we can say I love you and the fact that we are is what makes it true now I can scrape this shit right off your shoe, here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singing the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones too, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code,I’ll let the field talke care I m old, its time to end thiflodi broke the mouldand me with my everything about the shoe, its maker your sou out your soul leaving with bound by psychosocial with day moon SETTERS. home made psychopath GET ER, and lose her to a knitted SWEATER meant to the and if shit hits the fan in my house you become a fuckin CAVE DWELLER you officially for me heralded the dawn of freed energy so metaphysical seed dropped and sewn that day I guess what I a tying to say is seroquel can kill the day and lithium when charged can phase can kill your kidney and your craze over sirens who’ve been underground their perfect face and al around static in the air and sound of talismans and something foud induction tells you write this down what she conducts may flood the town, and this guythatts on the other line isn’t he a project of mine, sais nurse so cute and fine that flirt with my bipolar mind could his stimuli be cut, (if my nurse heard that shed bust my nut the think I’m guna get more worse nuclear winters parallel universe but bipolar ppls irony ill crack the joke an ice your nuclear explosion twice a day while I’m away leading weak dicks astray but giving your negative drones away the moans that I’m familiar with the point is I’m sick, was born with antennae metaphic that can even change channels like sappic girl on girl to girl on me altering duality and that what I get for free cable metaphysically so u better charge your battery, start the car pray she needs a guy with speed, instead of the duality of loving and love being received define love for me because lm low on batteries, finally the irony iron like steel I’m not even funny she gave me a drone that carried me home plate metal armor still that suckers dethroned all because of the ironic poem guaranteed to call my home circuitry and sacred tones, hooked up to my broke dying alone charge that she hears in my voice instinct are what’s the driving force to be my Venus in furs of course striking my eardrums while art of a new form could cure my heart, when deprivation and avant-garde combine to make things into art the the thing that makes drones stop and start my wordsandfingers take a form that independently grows horns, what an art to harmonize your frequencies with, smart, you dirty little butter tart you were supposed to cure my heart at least u got it throughtome you rising storm makes my anteenae start to channel lo-fi forms a and v imnow starting to clearly see I got to hear pure femininity express its love physically, while the ironic truth is easy to see, that my talisman masxulinity had no hand in physically and so my strengths like mediocrity, thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculine frequency that was enough to ride that came through the airwaves only a dined, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjectively means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite ur reaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely ur still a part of me, like the wasted energy of a missing battery that from within bears a charge, that was meant to be, the high voltage current, of hot energy. wat a grT TRIP THIS IS, ALTHOUGH ONG AND UNCOMFORTABLE AT LES I STILL HAVE ROCK AND ROLL AND BY DIVINE TIMING WE TOO A STROLL ADNTALKED A LITTLE THATS MY GOAL AND NOTHING DRONES AND HEAVY STONES WERE LEVITATED WITH THE MOAN OF SIRENSS BUT YOUR NOT A PHONE AND NO SUPRIZE CANT LEAVE ALONE OW I THRIV OFF DIAL TONED CAUSE IM DEPENDANT ON YOU STONE THE TALISMAN YOU CALL MY HHOME AND THAT TIE YOU CALLED ME ON THE PHON YOU WERE IN MY HEAD SAFE IN YOUR HOME BAD TIMING AND A HEAVY TONE BATTERIES DEAD: NOW WERE NOTHING DRONES…………………………………………………………….. thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculin frequency that was enough toride that came through the airwaves only a denied, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjective by means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite urreaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely Seroquel can ‘kill. The day’, and lithium (when charged) can phase, can kill your kidneys and your ‘“crazy” laser ray’s perspective.’ Meant for sirens, waves, underground stalactites, space, and drops of acid rain onto your base. Meant to cauterize with time and phase the straight; your sex, the Vikings take, and that edge they use to reap and waste. ((their secret way through; to slice through the glazed over passageway, that freezes waves of blood they made. Turned to crimson ice seen by my red hot rays, melt into salty ocean sprays) Then not so far away at night I kill the day and reap twilight, my heat turns from red to white like scars that weep acid rain despite my efforts, however insane, you do this over and over again) Relief; from emotional THEN/BY physical pain. In that order, we’re both deranged. here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singin the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’m tired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code, It’s meant for: a couple; of different: ppl 1 knø james ((pérsunµli); ‘(urThInKn èù¹d “Like¹¹ i+ Th0µGh))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ) — ¹o-² øس=FOUR!!!!!!!!²O_O³⁴!! (0_0)T0o?O_o)❤µ¼FOR¼ldd.”( þ+¹na!’(LOL!)?,X&Y” =ø(þ iN þÉd àvèç¹<>³µ)/(µø+þ²)ùþ³@ — ¹²³¹²³¹²³¹²³ James McFarlane• Ideas About mental Illness — James McFarlane Here’s my theory on paranoia. (Usually considered a negative symptom of psychosis) It can help gather information or misinform those who experience it. Even in wellness it is always potentially present in all of us. It’s a survival instinct. It makes us more attentive. My unique experience and understanding is when paranoia and other symptoms are present, heightened and amplified alertness to important information perceived by the senses is collected and whatever data is missing the brain either fills it in with logical thought or logical hallucination in some cases. I will further iterate this several ways for you to better grasp it. For most people there is so much excess data you wind up believing a falsity. Simple logic should let you know best which is most accurate among the extra data collected by suspicion, inner thoughts and hallucination ultimately fitting like Lego into the fractured “factual” data perceived. I believe mostly it is our internal sense of logic that is used to make hallucinations like dreams that appear similar to our regular reality. It is your sense of logic that determines how accurate the thought or hallucination might be compared to reality. It is hard to determine between reality and hallucination because hallucination adheres to reality. But if you can detect like in a lucid dream (aware of being in a dream) that it’s a hallucination you’re ok. It’s not that difficult to determine what thought or hallucination fits if you’re experiencing (or expecting) allot of symptoms having an automatic thought process that simplifies things by showing the most accurate possibility alone to the individual by involuntary thoughts and possibly hallucination. This can be a more accurate depiction of what’s not reachable by the actual senses. The point or idea is that hallucinations and involuntary thoughts mimic reality as best they can, so, they can be used to determine what is beyond our senses reach either corresponding with the senses themselves (hallucination) or through mind talk (which is the method that most mimics what we call telepathy and is much more controlled and has less effect on your behaviour and environment than hallucination). This mind talk or “intrusive thoughts” can be our sense of logic. It’s our sense of what’s real that makes up our involuntary thoughts and hallucinations so they’re may be an ounce or two of truth in them even though they aren’t real they can be identical ideas to what is really there. This is to be used for those who can’t see or hear what are out of reach of their senses like sonar or radar and further aid those who have and impairment or just want to experiment with extending their senses. This only applies to the unwell. Like I have said amphetamine could mimic the hypomanic state in regular people perhaps. This could be a tool for treating a range of mental disorders. Depression, lack of communication in certain critical mental conditions.(Alzheimer’s etc.) It’s not just guessing at involuntary thoughts and hallucinations, the tool combines accurate and distorted data collected by the senses. This extends the senses that help us try to understand. (Only some of us may have this as a mental pattern). You may be calling this a delusion well I call a delusion an idea. And remember, an idea can make the body including the brain do interesting things. Mono ideo dynamics Determining what’s real and what’s not isn’t a problem here, you know what’s a thought and an actual sound or hallucination when this is occurring so if they combine to make a more accurate awareness with good results than it doesn’t matter whether it’ telepathy or a mental tool isolated to the mind its generating data for the individual I assure you. Collecting data even from other people’s minds is definitely a factor in this theory (it’s a tangent but it’s important.) Involuntary thought is inner thought that appears to be info coming from an obvious source or other person. This is when the argument for delusion is most appropriate. Telepathy is a possible conclusion in the case of mind chatter or involuntary or external thoughts unlike ‘sense extension’ which is a potential tool involving similar aspects but also the actual environment. The mind to mind thing doesn’t involve physical reality like the sense extension theory which involves hearing and assuming all five senses if you were sick enough could improve the perception of our environment by way of hallucination corresponding with the senses, verses logical lingual additions to your line of thought (involuntary thoughts) which can be thought alone (mind talk) This opens a window to hybrid hearing combining involuntary thought with semi audible data, this was my first discovery and personal experience along the line of useful mental activity. So I would call it all external or involuntary mental data. The reason I included the telepathy as idea in this was because sense extension which may be provable is using the same material our thoughts are made of suggesting that the other ideas are worth experimenting with. I suggest mental information can be projected into the metaphysical reality affectively by a person just like shouting a person’s name. This is blatantly how it works from my perspective. What we imagine goes out into the air and some of us are there to hear it within our thoughts; mind chatter. Talking to yourself in your head as well as other transmissions or incoming additions. Not something we do all the time. Some people rarely do it or experience it. These are introspective expressions nevertheless they are the fabric of what sense extension involves. So if sense extension, (because it uses the senses, reality and hallucination/involuntary thought) can be tested and valuable info is collected from those tests, because of its use of involuntary thoughts which mimics telepathy, it could help prove or add merit to the idea of telepathy and its other explanations that are as follows. Proving telepathy involves seeing how things like sense extension is in the same weave as actual things we use or experience like thought, mental chatter, hallucination, dreams. This part of the universe is becoming objective when using a hybrid or functional form to better understand our surroundings. Just believing in these functions and experiencing them improves your regular perception and observational skills. These are hybrid metaphysical tools for perceiving your surroundings by use of hallucination and or thought and actual fractured data picked up by the senses. I tackle this mind chatter idea more so because it’s a solid symptom that doesn’t fail, like hallucination often does. Thoughts in the form of language coming from people around you or your multipersonalitied conscience is a good thing as long as it’s a good thing. When it no longer is in the range of being able to be used as a tool, these thoughts can be turned off or turned on by meds and belief or disbelief in the idea. But when it’s happening properly, like in hypomania, it does act as an aid in awareness of what’s most likely going on in other people’s thoughts. It informs you of the most likely thought usually in relation to you, aiding you every time by making you aware of something you didn’t know before. Word for word telepathy is a miracle, mental chatter that informs you of what’s most accurately going on in other people’s heads by way of involuntary lingual statements in the mind is not. It’s worth investigating, it’s a gift that has never led me to harm, only understanding. The fact that it’s in your head makes it a passive process where you have the option of responding or not, verbally or mentally if you’re a believer in telepathy. You can have communications, often in the form of mental lingual impressions from people around you, as long as their chattering in their heads. More often they respond verbally or through body language. (This could be also called a thought related delusion, and it probably is) Like sense extension it helps figure out without effort what’s most likely going on somewhere else but this involves getting a mental impression of what’s going on in someone else’s head and apparently only if It’s about you or directed to you, mostly. Telepathy and sense extension go hand in hand. What’s real and usable and what’s a symptom may need to be looked over and not just thrown in the isolation chamber. Mind chatter and thought insertion are two different things I think. Thought insertion means you think someone or something else is in your head and it is overwhelming. Mind chatter or “telepathy” follows a pattern of logic that is more precise than your own usually, it follows a rule, I am certain of it. That’s why it’s better to use cause it’s your intuition delivered lingualy. Thought insertion is like having someone else in control, whereas mind chatter is somewhat under control and mostly in your control as you are the experienced one. Involuntary thoughts (other people’s voices) could be telepathy and if it follows such a dynamic and structured law it should not be called thought insertion. Sense extension is something more practical and objective than telepathy type thinking, but it is untested and like I said, I deal with mind talk even when I am well and it is always accurate and helpful. The idea of partly using data from the peripheries of our trusted senses shows that these elements are not to be underrated or mislabelled. The fact that we can only see farther stars in the sky by looking off to the side is a great example of use of the peripheries of our senses. Similar is my experience of seeing peoples more true emotions on their faces when using peripheral vision. Is esp or just one example of a passive and informative hallucination? Let us not throw aside my interpretation of the experience of useful and unique mental activity by giving it the unattractive label of thought insertion when the fundamentals of these ideas may be useful for inventing evolution like tools to reach out into parts of the universe we have not yet studied. Distorted senses combined with an inherent logical thought process that is accurate if not pragmatic I my experience in every case. This could be an opportunity to reopen the study of parapsychology. (The fact that these are just an accurate perception mechanism is good enough). To reveal this delusion, we’ll assume all this is still only going on in one’s active imagination. However using a pattern of brain activity that mimics telepathy as a tool to read his/her environment better is cool; the only difference this has to sense extension is that there is no real life data involved. This in my opinion makes it the most commonly used and confronted with, solid, and most effective tool I deal with. (even when well) There are practices like muscle reading which is getting data through seeing a person’s movement that are examples of a semi proven method that mimic things like telepathy. I propose mental activities that are involuntary and positive like some of the symptoms of a mental illness, could be used as a link between what we see as dysfunctional mental activity and a breakthrough into the endeavour to prove that thoughts are part of our dynamic world as a form and can be used as a medical or social tool. This mental activity in serious cases of unwellness can alter the way we operate, not just the way we think. Paranoia could take over and it could be false data, and the repercussions could crescendo. In their reality and in reality itself. I say listening to your thoughts (whatever form they take) and interpreting them, it’s safer than experimenting with hallucination because mind chatter can be a factor in hypomania and in wellness. Only in the case of hallucination being used in a controlled environment with positive energy being present, for instance with a schizophrenic, they can be very well while hallucinations are still present. If in that state the hallucination tends follow what the senses are trying to perceive and use a situation like the sense extension experiment involving hallucination and obstructed hearing it may prove to be a good tool/idea possibly for aiding the hearing impaired in this situation or a similar situation that works. It could work because it could fill in more data where it was lacking and it may inherently be attempting to be accurate. This attempt is evident in other mental processes mentioned here. In the case of experimenting with this type of thing never should you be depressed manic, psychotic or over whelmed with psychological issues. If you are in an unwell state seek help, but be open to the new ideas that may present themselves to you. Know that the brain is elastic and does heal. The hippocampus and you are always growing. If it’s suggesting that its telepathy aiding us and guiding us that makes you sceptical I’m not going to just drop it. Be pragmatic and get a bit more insight into how it worked for me. First off, all that makes it telepathy as I’ve said is that it only involves thought. One thing that suggests that it is a thought from another source is the amount of unusable but accurate information that comes along with these seemingly incoming transmissions. It behaves like a mental environment that doesn’t involve just you; the metaphysical plain. You mostly hear in your thoughts what applies to you from those around you but there is other mental exclamations at times coming from different sources for different destinations, or in most cases mental exclamations just for themselves. Also getting an involuntary thought of apparently what is being said somewhere completely out of reach of the senses is a factor here. This is bigger than the structure of telepathy. If you are being talked about in the other room the brain informs you of it and who is saying it, this is clearly a survival instinct to gain intelligence of what may be out there and what most likely is, this type of sense may be evidently seen and utilized more by animals than humans. Probably because of the invention of language, putting the sense in recession. These ideas suggest that the metephysical plain is not just in my head but is there for everybody (and that privacy may be an issue.) The experienced and well user of the mental functions could actually receive and send out positive and effective transmissions with a ripple effect, real or not. (for what it’s worth, even to gain confidence and boost chemicals, respond and react accordingly to these transmissions and you’ll find it fits and improves your presence and role in the situation, that’s my experience) while the sick are just spiralling and not even communicating because their usually using negative or confusing behaviour or energy. What’s also evident of its existence is the obviousness the transmissions go both ways. I’m not just getting your impression of me in my thoughts; it’s obvious you’re getting mine. Its conjoint mental activity. It involves everyone but I think it requires a guide. If these are just symptoms, they rarely intensify and do dissipate more or less with wellness. I say if it’s not the metaphysical plain it’s at least explained by two minds appearing to correspond by (often coincidentally) one playing out the others activity as accurately as it can within the mind. This as a law would be evident enough to prove telepathy. I see a constant pattern in when the transmitters communicate, that they are thinking that thought and responding to one another (seen though body language and verbal responses. That’s telepathy like activity rationalised. It’s not always word for word because often I ask and they say no I did not think those words. Apparently it’s a mental impression of yourself delivered in the form of verbal thoughts or inaudible expressions from other people in the vicinity or elsewhere. Finally the hybrid hearing idea.The most effective and safe of the ideas here. (Thought and hearing mixed) It would be hard to disprove because of a lack of qualified candidates and the scenarios required. The hybrid hearing idea like I’ve said is not activity isolated only to thought, but the idea that involves using factual data and the imaginary simultaneously. Sense extension without hallucination. Deciphering between actual sense and involuntary thought is easy, you know what you hear and what you think, they become conjoint in some mental states indicating that the possibility of an extension “fill in the blacks” scenario. Know that this involves either an overactive imagination. The logical involuntary lingual thought mental activity combined with the brains attempt to hear the less audible is a marriage that could create the extension of the impaired or out of reach sense (hearing in this case) What I propose is happening here may be hearing the bass of a conversation because bass carries farther, and your mind places the other frequencies (treble) in the form of an involuntary imaginary sound. I suggest this is too intricate and accurate to be delusion. To actually be aware of the volume according to the distance or nature of the info that comes from not the unknown but an obvious source is evident of that intricacy. The psychotic skills talked about here are among the skills we’re all born with. All humans are capable of psychosis. Which is the foundation of these things. I just find mania to be safe, similar and more of an advantage. Our brains and beings all have an inner need and desire to figure out what is reality. Even when that reality is obstructed, it uses other means to get around to perceiving the world correctly. This line of thought has the potential to be a step forward in changing others view of these symptoms. To suggest that they are meant to be enhance to our advantage, not abolished; this is the stuff of change at an evolutionary level because as I said earlier it does involve everybody and anybody. The Chemically Endowed / THE HEALTH SYSTEM James McFarlane June 1st, 2016 Mania is the increasing of one’s “reward” chemicals in the brain chronically (a symptom of Bipolar). A fact about mania is that it is not so often as out of control as we are tempted to assume. We don’t know the limits it can push positive wise. A negative aspect is surely something that we have seen occasionally. An example could be a world leader like Alexander the great. On the positive side of it are people like Van Gough and many other artists, teachers and authors. Making tireless efforts at just causes inspired by epiphany is just one of the activities a bipolar individual has the option of pursuing. (Sometimes with phenomenal results) This can be a positive activity of the broad ranged individual. Mania is an abundant source of potential positive energy. The mythical Greek god Dionysus has been called the god of mania. He partied allot and was the estranged son of Zeus. There were cults formed in his honor and the remanence of them still exist today as a common and highly manipulated, manipulative tradition known as the entertainment industry. Antianxietys, antidepressants, antipsychotics and mood stabilizers; drugs that (have attributes that researchers have neglected to even identify) help and plague the bipolar individual as the most commonly used tool to ward off symptoms. In some cases, recreational drugs like amphetamine ((that seem to force up the mood of an individual) among drugs that are normally oriented with unwellness)) I suggest, could be a surprising aid in speeding up the recovery process of depression (the opposing symptom in bipolar to mania which have psychosis as a common theme at the peripheries of both poles of experience) through cognitive stimulation. This is important because antidepressants take several weeks to take effect and suicide could be prevented by the induction of a more open approach to medical uses of recreational drugs. This activity should be combined with social interaction in the case of recovery because it surrounds the recovery of the social aspects of the self (I do not recommend this as the first option for a recovery process). Like most drugs this behavior may take years off the recovery process but could wind up taking years off your life. If closely watched and tested the medicinal benefits of illegal or unreaserched drugs as well as further data released on drugs in general and their common circumstances may be a great stride in the remedy of mental, psychological conditions and social misconceptions which solutions are still being put off by ignorance of the populous and adverse political agendas. Other treatment options not listed above include electroshock therapy and psychical exercises like cognitive behavioural therapy. These alternatives are used less most likely because pharmaceuticals are a huge part of controlling the populous and funding corporations and government. However, a regimented combination of any of these factors could be a breakthrough for some. Called “consumers” by people that work in the pharmaceutical industry, these human beings endowed with seemingly new chemicular behaviors have a heavy cross to bear. I believe that it is obviously possible that over half the population (just to be fair) are born chemically inclined, but forced under the heel of the majority of the others who are from my perspective, psychologically twisted by ignorance, power over the sick, and unjustified behaviour based (((most likely (just to be fair) for some, subconsciously))) on either inherent or just blatant jealousy. I say this because the majority of people in a position of dominance in our society, (security guards, nurses, the police, doctors what have you) are brutally unfair, unprofessional, and ignorant in most cases. This attitude fuels the biggest and oldest and crudest intolerance ever committed by one group against its own people. The mentally endowed verses the psychologically twisted and everyone in between or strung along is the latest and oldest injustice I can see other than the genocide of the shamanistic cultures of north and south America. The most obviously funded sick lack of justice and care for their own counterpart (ever challenged till present day) by a government is currently at hand. It’s a matter of time and interest among corporations. Their need for money will guarantee that the proper drugs will be the end of this problem. Their survival as a business is the only co-dependent factor for the cause. Once the sick become well, ((the inevitable outcome (already achieved)) the drugs will be reinvented a few times ultimately plateauing as a renewable idea by these scientific salesman and their evil subordinates running the place like some kind of sick joke to themselves. Those who wield tools and permission to inflict pain, bondage and any form of abuse they find delectable simply to put off paperwork (and sooth their own often nocturnal boredom) only assigned to be used in the inevitable malpractice suits soon to be ensued by the just with the just against the corrupt. With blunt force and jealousy against their only threat and reliable witness to the sick twisted 24 hour a day fetish of legally and illegally taking the rights and freedoms and everything that makes life desirable from the ill to make way for a prolonged treatment of abuse and betrayal from the psychologically bent nurses and security guards, doctors, police not to forget your everyday sociopath / psychopath walking the streets and perverting the direction and attention of the staff and patients of mental health wings across the country (Canada). Folks like these who lack the basic right and wrong skills, used obviously and openly by the sick and the meek to inevitably over throw the ranks of sociopaths and psychopaths governing, misusing and perverting the writing of history. All of their efforts put into this “note taking” endeavour to be rewarded with indulgence into the sick pleasures of a dysfunctional beauracracy and political disgrace to be. As for the sick, (and well) the neglect of one’s health and deterioration of relationships is often inevitable during episodes and when being forced against such characters mentioned above. These new victims often leaving the institution with their own newly afflicted psychological scars. This is understandable considering how different and under informed the external world and the unbalanced individual usually are. The unwell individual tends to get overwhelmed with heightened and distorted perception, and the outside worlds clashes with their reality. Inevitably against their will, (usually after lots of experience) and sadly, many forms of legalized abuse from the system that seems to be above all law, they become accustomed to the system and more knowledgeable about medication. This is the only way I’ve seen someone become well, for longer. It’s important to channel the knowledge from their experience into productive endeavours. This is the exceptional goal. Chemicals are a big part of the inclined individual’s life (Pharmaceutical, natural and usually recreational). Often enough a well-balanced person emerges but the fight against unwellness and addiction is ongoing for many. Even once well, the psychological challenges of adjusting to life can set in. Thankfully this is also treatable either with anxiety medicine or therapy (or in the case of the Canadian health system, prolonged and tormenting hospital stays crudely striped with prolonged bondage and isolation chambers. Psychology being the completely unfunded and rightful alternative. Wellness comes with time and knowledge as well as trial and error. The potential experience for these individuals is more than the average prescription. Logically and philosophically looking at these problems is key to understanding them. Stigma; it’s a thing like racism that is rampant in every culture today but especially in western culture apparently. A mild example of stigma is using a negative label or misconception such as “split personality” or “psycho”. These are words attached to now folklore, lies and misunderstanding so this ignorance is apparently the first thing to go. In the case of bipolars, it is often amplified social ability versus depression or other emotional states that is confused with complete loss of judgement. Schizophrenics seem to have an even keel in terms of personality in most cases. I know there is no mood disorder but full on hallucinations. This could be due to an unexplained increased constant source of dopamine in their system I suggest gets used to produce complex distractions that could be used to their own advantage, like poetry etc.. (Unproven connection) The biggest problem is the assumption our government and citizens have; that the mentally ill are violent. This ultimately subjects us to being treated like escaped zoo animals by every authority figure you can think of. This is how they legally get us into straps; the word violent. This word can be used in ways it shouldn’t which is often the case. Once declared violent and mentally ill you’re bound for a living hell most likely for quite some time. All the ugly side effects of the system itself leave you psychologically damaged. You get a fate worse than prison by far, especially if you’re rebellious. I have rarely if ever have seen an act of violence towards another from a person that lives in a society that has them already sedated, and threatened by fearful ignorant authority figures with shackles, tasers, injections and cruelty in general at the ready. I’ve mostly seen vigilance or peaceful protest in those in an unwell state, simply because they have the logic to see what they’re up against. We’ve seen this all our lives. Even those who fight back really never had a chance to show that they meant no harm. I say this because our common goal as this type of person is to be understood. While up against a mass of smug sociopath liars who are constantly projecting joyously in groups that we’re mentally incompetent and incapable. This whole thing makes me want to kick an isolation room wall in and pull out the insulation over and over again. That type of treatment on that scale and for that length of time inspires anger in the most emotionally controlled of individuals. This type of passive brutality cannot be easily understood by people who are on a regular level of unchanging dopamine and serotonin. Basically, it is those who are in control and uninformed that are inevitably inflicted with the stigma for mental illness otherwise these are used as tools by the PhDs that as of late have the audacity to wield side effects deceptively like better acting medication (as well as transference upon their staff). Mania is a powerful source of energy. Success of any kind is a possibility with people that have the genetic makeup of the bipolar individual and quite possibly the schizophrenic and schizoaffective system casualties. Most who blindly submit are in a sedated or in a financially constricted reality for most of their lives. However massive bodies of work that gain quality over time with practice are usually seen with all types of mentally ill individuals. Productivity is a given with excess energy and hopefully with excess dopamine. This is something the bipolar individual has at their disposal. (The excess dopamine, like I stated earlier, being the undiscovered advantage for schizophrenic and hybrid diagnosis individuals). If psychological ailment is part of ones developmental makeup, seek help through private practices in your nearest large city center, like psychologist offices, astrological predictions or the cheaper alternative; fortune cookies. ((all systems more trustable than the political money grab being masqueraded by the Canadian government and god knows where)). Hobbies will get lots of attention and skills like writing will be improved for most. Phenomenal ideas and activities must be given attention. It must come from a desire to be appreciated in a world that sees them as useless and treated as such as well as resentment for the genetic advantage and the mitochondrial patterns I will stipulate below. First off I am compelled to write; things like physical agility are improved as well when new energy comes along. Now, the organelle mitochondria in animal cells produces energy for the cell. Like the patterns of the near solar system and probably menstrual cycles and similar monthly patterns recorded to date, all of these cells (differing by their design) work as groups. Most likely shifting by the behavior and the pressures of the environment and or the environments one is involved with as well as (chiefly) the positive verses negative intentions or energy put forth. The positive being more strong and more apt to gaining velocity compared to negative endeavours while the ignorant become subjected to rapid, (fuelled by culture and social upheaval) evolutionary de-emphasis. Tradition will save many who are open minded. It has been theorized that a person who inherits the bipolar gene may have abnormal mitochondrial activity. I reiterate that this would cause fluctuating energy production for the whole body and possibly more so for the brain, ultimately spiking or dropping essential consciousness related chemicals like serotonin and dopamine. Mainly above the baseline of level as far as positive living goes indicating that it’s an innovative evolutionary trait. (These chemicals and the proper medicine are prime factors for the bipolars however independent) the natural chemicals)) These are known simply as chemicals that affect our mood. Or sometimes referred to as (and in everyone’s experience) reward chemicals (endorphins) and oxytocin (the love chemical). The mitochondrial theories as well as more psychological rather than biological theories (i.e. “mono-ideo dynamics”) are unproven. (most called into question more than 100 years ago left unelaborated but proposing a hypothesis unfinished on purpose, ie. Mono-ideo dynamics meaning that an idea can make the body do anything the body is capable of to the peripheries, any part of the body. The “any” part of course cautiously suggesting the brain) The future of mental health I would say is the extensive categorizing of the dosage and drug or treatment in relation to different types of people or circumstances. (i.e. more than 10 conditions, more like a dictionary of conditions to be) Also, once the medical scam plateaus (due to actual research and political attention) psychology as a treatment method will be implemented beyond nurses attempting some form of cognitive behavioral therapy. It is those employed to work with the mentally ill and the graduates of psychology or related studies who must insist on more data collection and way more research into the possibilities the mind itself can offer in medical treatment of all illness. It occurs to me now obviously that psych has been previously placed on the priority list as secondary to the drug trade and religion so to gain funding for an renewable priceless trade like deduction of illogical pursuits and outcomes. (A basic form of psychology that should aid dangerous things like delusion and the laws of attraction). Psychology research mut be put on the forefront so we can get meds chosen, dosages corrected and diagnoses discovered and made faster and more accurately. (And produce more jobs in all levels of the field of medicine) It’s a century old marriage and divorce between medicine, and free will. Psychology should be treated as equally as important as medicine as it is half the battle against corruption of our society, ecosystem and those who inhabit it. Back to the original induction and pragmatic endeavour of self controlling mental chemicals that have their own agenda, or the agenda of the moon and the weather; the social activities of a manic person can be difficult to put up with for others because it’s constant and overbearing at times. This factor most likely is being brought up because of my experience with passive aggressive tendencies. What is interesting is that it can stimulate chemicals in people around the source (more importantly I say between couples). Basic emotional chemicals like endorphins and oxytocin (excitement, survival and `love` related chemicals in any order) can be increased in other people at higher than normal rates and levels (not to mention the freed individual themselves). These chemicals can be a blissful and natural human experience when people are close to one another. This can be achieved through stylized communication between persons. In cases of manic people with other manic people; it’s a vibrant social atmosphere. It’s manifesting the inner emotion or thought into reality or more commonly manifesting it into iteration. In any case one can activate the other pretty easily without consumption of any substance. Any communication and body language is the stimulation factor here when differing types of people get together. This is what psychology is; ‘Behaviour changing chemicals, changing environment’. Boring and seemingly opposing efforts is also a common occurrence because it’s hard to stay positive for most and for those around them because, it’s been a long battle and opposites attract. Phrases like that as well as phrasing like “everybody’s different” is an indication that intellect and work ethic are also independent factors essential to the coexisting of partners in general. The state best to experiment in as far as is hypomania (medium mania) or even just wellness. Ways to activate a slow rise in your serotonin level if you’re not bipolar would be using a mild stimulant like amphetamine (Dexedrine). This is not something to try on your own. I’m suggesting this to be a carefully overseen test involving chemicals that are dangerous to be used in excess and for prolonged periods of time. If you become manic, know that once your manic states have passed and you’re well you still possess the ability to partake in and test different psychological and parapsychological activities (it does stay with you and up to date). One thing to discover while well is that a person can up their brain’s chemicals at will without the use of drugs, rather, behaviour or behavioural exercises. Once you’ve done that and or submitted to the opposing factors of the weaker you are both freed. This has been going on for billions of years in many forms. Dancing, sex, geometry, sensory deprivation (like vision quests or modern culture traditions) gaining knowledge about the earth from the stars, cultural and group oriented endeavours like art or chemical revolution (i.e. drugs rock and roll all stimulate the body chakras as well as the earth’s). Other theories basically thrown around by the wiser of the eastern west in the form of literature or poetry comes to mind, like; “electricity comes from other planets”, in relation to mono-ideo dynamics in relation to bipolars and nature; “The Gift” etc. (The Velvet Underground, 1969). All of these “foggy notions” are there for usually the reason they’re being inspired, meaning put art intentions and science together and you’ve got something good. Unless you succumb to the marketplace. Only drugs inspire chemicals on command without the need for circumstance (this is a modern cultural tradition). The nature of mania is that you become ‘antennae’ of sorts that more easily gathers information. It’s up to you what you do with your energy or your manic that turns the tides in your favour. Your perception may be higher in this state, but there (as always) is; a down side of it as there is duality in all things in nature. Psychosis depression and psychological problems plague the inexperienced young bipolar individual’s lives until an effective treatment plan is accepted or forced on them. Other ways to cushion this (and to avoid too many episodes) is complying with treatment plans to your liking and staying away from recreational drugs for the most part. Or rather, opposing and cheating the laws of the flawed marketplace. The process as a whole is always a learning experience for most. For sure, unbalanced brains are the next step in biological evolution. The union of the mind and body, the relationship between the physical and metaphysical, and how human culture is merged with the ethereal will occur along with the reopening of the practices originating from primitive psychology like the agenda of the heavenly bodies of fire above. Victim Psychology One thing I have realized over the past many years is that there are two kinds of people in the world; the aggressors and the passive. Like the chimps and the bonobos, the psychopaths and the victimized, the sociopath and the weary guardian, the farmer and the farm animal, the nurse and the sickly the dominant prey upon the weak. I have found the sociopath to be friendly and the psychopath to be gentlemanly and wise at times. This does not condone they’re compulsive destructive social and physical abuse that they inflict upon they’re victims. A psychopath is someone who enjoys committing violence upon another. A sociopath is one who has no care for the wellbeing of others. This is rampant in modern Canadian livelihood. One other thing I’ve noticed about aggressors is that they go in and out of remission. (Which is cooperative behavior) A volatile destruction of one’s trust of others and distorting of one’s actions that is prevalent in victims is sexual abuse of the young and old alike. Next to physical assault it’s the most reactive and high profile to this day of violations of another person therefore it falls in the category of psychopathy from what I can see because of its physical and emotional impact. Victims carry on in public, say profoundly erratic and shocking statements, take up malevolence for those who stand by them and seek a vengeance that has no sympathy in any circumstance against theirs and other persons abusers. Their paranoia fuelles the problem of wrongful accusation cases ongoingly across the board. Usually a current abuser is in the background with these cases fuelling the fire while the victim holds out for some kind of mercy or justice. Wife beating and general abuse of children and animals are the most haness and hated by the public and the spectrum of victims in this country. (Canada) Sexual abuse is the most widely discussed and concerning of abusive behaviors towards humanity, (to the point that it’s an ongoing obsession and topic in the daily conversation in a conflictive situation between persons and within groups of all sizes) breeds decay within the psychological health of the groups themselves(like paranoia to a schitsophrenic) and they revel in it, abusers and all. All the power to the victims for their enthusiasm, but to reiterate what I wrote above, these actions are somewhat on occasion either false puppetry put on by the victim’s close and currently occupied as; violator, or by bystanders who just want a show or to gossip. The falsity and sadly sociopathic act of ‘fish netting’ just about every oddball as a possible suspect of these lowly behaviors is very common in today’s society. However, I have realized that their paranoia is justified by the number of women beating and sexual abuse cases showing up as a reality today and that there is a correlation with the amount of homosexuals that are violently “in the closet” who turn up in our courts and also who don’t (mainly due to victims trying to hold their lives together). Can this be explained by ethnicity clashes? Gangs?Terrorism?Languages? Why this correlation? Is it obviously connected to what was formerly seen as perversion, homosexuality, as a factor in these broken homes. Just because by my census in northern Ontario found that heterosexuality was a minority here and that the abuse rate changed for the worse shows that it is possibly a correlation. How long has this been going on? I find that these men need to use women as a shield, a sexual punching bag that’s worth no more than a cheap roast beef. This is a new social disease. Not homosexuality, but the act of taking a mate of the sex you aren’t interested in for personal gain. The action of these men is typical abuse and the women go on destroying their psychological health through these empty relationships. This one (me) who is looking for a healthy relationship feels ripped off however the sociopathic women choose their life like dolls instead. While the jails hold the psychopaths. The police jail and court workers go on with their corrupt behavior in our region. It’s that that continues to choke our young women into a compromise. They are a social disease, we are under siege from sick nations and countries and our men are allowing our women and children to fall by the wayside to make room for more homosexual dominance. It’s time to liberate the inflicted to avoid more people crossing over to psychological toxicity. As these victims start to depreciate into self destructing and outwardly destructive tendencies. Psychologists must prescribe and teach like never before in this age of lies, abuse and corruption. LO-FI Music Explained JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 LO-FI MUSIC EXPLAINED The additional distorted data collected from the peripheries of our senses deliberately recreated and reproduced by means of adverse, outdated and unintentionally altered technology and style. Recorded or preformed ideally in the form of what we know as music and or film. broken record? More like audible snowflake. The geometry of nature get betrayed and expands when recording art under predetermined and active circumstances at the whim of the conditions of the environment and it’s setbacks. LO-FI Music/Media is the effect that the decay of our technology has on the pristine conditions in which we perform and record our visual and audible experience and the deliberate recreation and reproduction of these anomalies. Atonally thrusting forth with a foggy notion that these new audio and visual recordings of patterns that emerge from the more primitive forms of technology over time vaguely and remarkably respond to and compliment the setting of the reality intentionally being recorded on an almost conscious level. The question of how to activate them and where hey come from arises when artists of our own age with a knowledge of the recent technological and cultural past attempt the avantgard. Using predominantly analogue and traditional technology affected by time itself that we can alter ourselves in combined with natural (random) rate, voltage, velocity selection what have you to reproduce art AND what the ultimate effect of the recording process has on these works of avantgard art is the idea behind and the method LO-FI Music/Media. -James McFarlane (Seamus) I blew up Einsteins theory on insanity — James McFarlane (Seumas) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 Einstein said that the definition of insanity was repeating ones actions over and over again, expecting different results. I say that this behavior is far from insane. It is the fundamental law of how our development, bodies, daily lives, cultural traditions, reproduction, evolution and solar systems function. When looked at closely we see that even the most repetitious behavior is constantly changing at various rates. This is a law in all things in our universe therefore nothing ever really repeats itself. Rotations beautifully exist in nature and follow an imperfect geometry that we mimic in our cultures according the the schedules of the massive bodies above. Rock and roll, like opium or the moon have differing effects on the geometric patterns of our lives and evolution. Some rock an roll music by use of musical instruments (science) has combined the harmony of natures repetitious behavior (the drone) with the ever changing distortion factors like; time, mass, pitch and amplitude that are essential and fundamental to the evolutionary principle of repetitious behavior. Its the repetition that is the foundation we stand on, as long as your standing on it, expect something new to come about. Simply our presence in a scenario changes the physical and metaphysical environment at some rate, its our behavior and descisions that change that rate what manifests as the artwork or reality. — James McFarlane (Seumas) lyrics — James McFarlane (Seamus(Substreet Drones)) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 NEW — weird song (2016) the reaper, put the beat on hold, bones dug up just like the sunflowers in the snow, now deeper into the river of sight, if you go in that cave dont turn out the light, white light shines bright, no stars tonight, behind the vox stack, their singin heart is black, subwayswhislting over my head, thank god i climbed aboard instead, reap what you sew 4x (coda) Heart is black ive been had (ive been had) ive gone mad (ive gone mad) ths is war, (this is war) i told you all this before i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, heart is black face the facts, art is black, oohicant stay, (ooh icant stay) cant go your way, (cant go your way) i felt you sweet smack, Your smoke is black (smoke is black) i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, Beautiful face she thinks shes alright, butshes out of sight, swim in for a bite, underneath the white light, thining of fashons, and still looking smashing appealing to fools, out of all kinds of schools, lo frequency base, mixed with the acid taste, no it couldnt compare, to your beautiful face. you left a hole in my chest, a better shot than the rest, do you have five minutes, for a warhol screen test, at dawn i see a star burning not lie the rest, cant help but sit and wonder where its going next 4x cant help but sit and wonder where shes going next 4x Blue Haired BelleBlue Haired Belle, hangs around the gates of hellMorning stars get lost, in the flow of your blue sky locksDon’t despair, you’ve been on a track please take care, Come fly with me, its your blue sky that’s pure dont you see. Its alright You, me , everybody,we, see, only moonbeams,comets not so high,eathquakes in the sky,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright, You light the way, through tunnels, try not the scrape, the gunnels,on the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timeon the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timelalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalaooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaoooooo Main Street When you called me up hereIdidnt feel like walkin, Now your sayin to me,youdidnt feel like talkinwhy are we so clumsy,so clumsy with our breadnow you tell me honey, how you keep your stomach fed, always lending yourself out, to the freaks that dot our lives,honey when you gunna shout, at those drones in out beehive,take a walk uptown, to the bucket where they drown,gunna tell them when they get out,to get theiur handouts downtown MorningAt the dawn of a new age,Sun comes up, smell the burning sage,take a step foreward, turn the pagesay goodbye to all those dark dark days, MAking a brew I stare a the fire,stir the pot, and then connect the wires,turn on the amp, the music inspires,got to free my mind from all the cheats and all the liars. Morningdrone You, you know what I mean, when isay,that nothings gunna happen today,and you, you know what imean,wheni tell you it’s just not my scene, you, yeees you, what the hell are we gunnado?and you, the only one you listen to, is a man, by the name of, Lou. We, yeees us three, could make it at a defferentpace,I, know that, it’s a discrace, Lord, take us to another place, So grab your stuff, your record albums,you take the wine, and ill take the guns, and into the ocean, we will go, cause you know, were headed, for the coast,so raise up your glasses, for a toast,ha, which one of us can drink the most,the father, theson, or the holy ghost,and you say that this car can race,but can it take us to that other place, a different side of mother natures face. take me to another place. Nothing drones honey comes from lots of work, sticky feet moving berserkpatterns form in crude beauty, drones fulfill a pointless duty, honey drips, from the hive, golden jkelly feeds their wife, pretty flowers messy home, nothing drones on like the cone, back and forth, in and out, dancing like we use our mouths,the pay is small and so are you, results of that sweetens my tooth, the task is never ending, constantly descending, dripping in the mouths of those not worth defending. Oppenheimer park Rolling down the open road, to the end of the line,end of the world, end of the illusion of time,I go down to the water, and feel the cool surf,hear music in the air and take it for what it’s worth, cant understand why people, could live on so little,when so much goes through them, and through the needle, so hasty, with the selling of their saved souls,the western downtown is bright, blunt, and bold. Walk up and down throughout the day, out of your mind,think of your home nevermore, till the end of timethe loop drones on and on like a broken clock,don’t need to climb the montain, cause your at the top Hastngs is not coming for you, your coming for it,like hell it bewccons like the incline of a pit,the east side, sits a nd people come from near and far,to sit, and sink, into the grass, in oppenheimer park oracle so your torched,your hanging by a thread,don’t scorch, your pretty little head,wishing through your lips that it worntpass,feels like your turning from a liquid to a gas, take a trip right to the edge of your mind, consciousness poured out and left behind,take a break from all the flats and all the sharpd,ride a cloud of nothing, and numb your broken heart To thew edge of your mind, distortion blurrs the line bettweenwhats out there and whats inside, deep in the cave, breath in the cold air,see shadows on the wall,… stare bring news just like homing pigeon,come down, and start a new religion, leave now, and speak out, littereally or metephorical,the knowledge you posess will make you the oracle. Pipe Dream A science experiment gone totally wronga weather balloon with some kind of evil about it,all the kids at school could see it above the horizon,my friends and i knew we’d be better off without it, king kong, walked along high street, where the freaks and thugs call home,if he could reach this floating disaster on time,he knew he would never have to die alone,hethough about it and realised the people wouldntunderstandhe knew their alien nation would turn this ape into a man, darkened minds turn on a dime, revolve in time along thin white linesyin and yang drip from a wolfs fang, one pulls the trigger the other goes band why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Darkened fool has lots of toolsd, dead at the deep end of the pool, boring times and pouring rhyme, the question, is this really mine? why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Psych em out Psychem out like rabid vermin, make em shout a phony sermon,see right through their simple game,right to their core their thoughts of shame, watchem blow upon the fire, rocks explode right on the liar, social change brings end to war, housewife trembles on the floor,backwardsforewards, up and downvoisc encircle all aorund, observeprecieve hear see know learn mirror be, identify possible flaws, of the menace with no causethe time is now, so try to learn how to bend the rules they use to keep you down. Rabbit hole Salvage you mind while it is illuminated, a fire out of control,a cabbage in ttime, right now it is fumigated, wired and housing a soul,badhabbits in line, schedualed to be terminated, inspire you out of your hole, A rabbit , redefined and underrated but higher than ever before, drink up while the tea is hot and bright blue, the flesh of the gods makes it so,3 caps and some stems is all i can do, to see shooting stars upon the snow, think sweetly of me, with emotions so true as yu stand and look through the window,think of thinkgs to do when im gone for good now, waving at the bus watching it go, Im down in the southland, with deep curving valleys and bridges all rusty and crumbling, with grasses all dying and rivers of green and subways whistling under me. a spot on the corner , a 30 dollar gutar, a case and a cigarette too, is all that i need to get usedd to my home and bring my mind closer to you. The last of this song, is all out of place, but the pace rings true to the rule, of the verses before i shut tight the door on the patterns lost and misconstrewen,becauseits all backwards and forewards like this, its in shambles but its not a ruin,the end of this 4 verse song has arrived, to the point you might not clue in. Sea of lights Rockj and rave, through the night,on speed in a sea of lights,jump spin contort thrust,black white pain lust,spent a week there last might, maybe more,steal yourself a holy death crouching by the door cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Standing there all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the whilestanding all in black behind the vox stack, from behind sunglasses, we inspire the masses, cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Walk and talk it through the park,whiplashgirlchild in the darkrun run run, take a drag shoot your speed while you brag i’ve been orchestrating behind sunglasses,immitatingprodogy, and writer, man, tomboy and a throusand fans zeppelin spotlights on my brain exploding plastic in my veinhypnotyic tones as the propellers drone,mind bending sounds, resonate undreground, dak circles never weed, new york 1963, Chcmysic, velvet freak desensitize alter tweak, no money car moon or sun, sell your blood for heroin,if she ever comes now now, moe beat on that drum now now,pink perfume, mantra neumes silk screen factory tunes superstar test only the best wine coffee speed heroin rest,darkcircl;es never weep, new yourk 1963,theyve been up for weeks, in the white light the tweak, in 63 Skeleton Here we are again, moneys all been spent, you don’t know where hesbeen,hes trying to fend off things that dwell within, hes a skeleton. at the end of days hes been here before he says, narrow in mannyways,hes a skeleton,andidont know where hesgoin, or why he thinks itssnowin, he can see the wind thatsblowin, hes a skeleton, Spotlight Reap what you sew,snakes and poppys in her hair,sun flowers in the snow,make you look like your not so old,it had been so long i could not recall her face,she came outside to meet me though iwas’t her case,nowi sit and wonder if I’m out of place,the memories i had of her, are in outer space Standing all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the while,on the odd days I could talk to her,harmony and dissonence, a modern venus in furs,up and down that hallway, rotating the earth,waiting there for hours and hours, for her the quench my thirst. Sweet grass summertime,see the star shine, and i don’t mind revisiting those times,although my mind is blown, i play the drone,saying goodbye while you’re getting stoned. Vicious lips oooooo what to do,iwanna see you too,i think imgoin mad, ooooim not that sad noooi wonder sometimes where you are,what moon what planet under what star,id like to think your not that far, but we both know that trip was hard your vicious lips, eard on the airwaves, waking the dead, from their graves,your sweet, but your toxic, been three weeks since you dropped itI found it in my pocket, your trains comin I cant stop it You Made Me the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me, Come Back Around JAMES MCFARLANE·FRIDAY, MAY 13, 201610 Reads The process as a whole is always a learning experience like no other. Ultimately, like the brain has a recognition and physical atribute that corresponds with most chemicals in nature (possibly even synthetic chemicals) the psychological functions that a person can aquire are almostordaned and recieved in a timely fashion by the organ and im assuming the subconscious effortlessly and for evolutionary purpose. So I will assume everyones own, (however existential), growth experience is interesting. Having the atribute of spiking and deminishing of at least two of the brains most important chemicals related to experience, and behavior… and the awareness of the (most obvious to you) potential for not only chemical related occurances and their ripple effect, but the behavioral methods that the acute brain, manic brain, almost has a natural function to excercise and use usually either for a better survival or further expansion into astonishing existential and soon to be investigated parapsychological, social behaviors that tend to stick as long as they serve in a new type evolutionary (ie “Counter intuative”, productive and humanistic beavior that the mind eagerly draws in like an antennae recieving and storing up valueable energy. Setting this agenda and also surviving the early episodes, of bipolar, (which are usually the most drastic) are two hurdles to get over, let alone the crude, almost sickening archetectural features in our community hospitals, thats purpose cannot be desguised as heathcare to the human eye. A grossly overused assortment of bondage equipment and isolation chambers (not to mention your absence of any dignifying articles of clothing( also to be moved and set in place on occasion) nowadays plate glass walls, a whole dungeon setup designed by those people involved no less, who really probably care wheather the colour they chose or how their design would function better than the decaying sweat soaked ultimately in our home towns case, my favorite case, dried blood stained, apparenty approved for use by some dr, a single hallway, to alk up and down seemingly endlessly, untill not suprisedby the inevitable dread code white, that is the delight for the predominantly, …listen t me… dominated, by your average practicing as ferociously as they can with as little effort as possible, sociopath and more importantly to re ognise, violent violators psychopaths, who pretymch have the real pl working there stressin over what could possibly be these ppls capabilities, and are alienated inside by this evil thay cannot risk their ,,, virtully anything valuable, like a job or who knows, omg… thats why she left,,,,, so, yaa, these ppl rise like cream, annnnnd they have a really good time eeeehm, .. now nurse practitioners or legends, thir former dominator look like theyve aged, well lets say i was convinced they had beeen using prolongued use on heavy stimulents, like crack. iloldrewaout a blueprint with symboldsfr the patient advocate, neaysi mostly wantd to write and its alot of shit thats gone no doubt as home with ,,,lets say u know like fat cat. what, i was 15, and he was fat then, now hes the last one standing up there that i know of. oh yea… so i would say if u want out, and as of late i thing the design is perfect for the right ppl, socios included, fuckers, but, the dr, they are jst as careless as the security guards who cant hide haw stupid the really are and the odd couple who are revealing that their ok, still, idicovered, ,, maybe not in north bay, but in a proper community, like the city, ………..lost my train,,,, i think that i was getting at how just to be fair and …eyea 50 percent of the staff endowd with the ability to weildstrapps, and are encouraged by their no doubt under educated superiors, to always have the wrist ready to be broken if, now this brings me back,,,, they chokeyou, than comes the bondage that betty page would think is very unatractive, idk,,, the thing is,,, ya the drs, oh waut,, ok…. 1/3 of all of them are,,,, exculding the drs, and the janitors, who if ihaventdiscosedya are always there to pile up on a code white, and i know,, listen to me, no janitor ive met would grab my ass so hard on such a numerous a pile up, i have eyes in theback f my head,,,,,,, italalot,,,,,,, ppl that work so hard tp climb so not that far up the ladder in society, yes, sum of them are costume rocking witchcrftprodiges, who, will, 1 take the whole bunch of guys .. it may have been the forensic unit,,, this little thing is known by ,ppl, ive talked to about the psych who are inderectyl told by their others who work it, and ave stories about the oddity of us. iduno,, alot went down, but,, boring s yea she walks me throught e bysantine conduit iup to the floor, and the police have to walk somewhere behind to uncuff me and ta da, , y o iwanna bring up corporeal action when the best times,,, due to the conditios of bondage uuuuuuuuuuh were strictly through plate glass,,,,, ie. rare appearenced that are pretty much the only way. i really was bloody fucking thirsty 8percent and i mea ya,, when i was younngti chewed up braaaaan and drank my watttaaeer, and drew peace sighnsandd 7 days laterrrrr, after she sumhow managed to get an earbud into my head screaming for any colour you like by pink floyd, and playd the fungsonhggg, badassss. straight jacket. prolly day 4,,,,, i still think cough syrop is good for teenagerswhatver,,m took me to the top. ok… to get offf, the ward do as such; by Ultimately drawin on to no apparent end in crayons complete with nicotine gum (smokes,, the only freedom, not yet a right, that is so hard to get,,,,, and i learned to smoke in side the scarborough general hospitol,,, that room soon became the chamber, i would be locked in, for manny weeks, at different times,, thats where alot also hapened, is where the nude bondage asianfemaldr, ..whati mean i s theatwwhatwuldlou reed say… they never forgave us for nagasaki.,,, newaysive never spent more time in a i also a what appears to be and have bben told by assdocter of the north bay pstychwhi took to court at the hospitol and he got yelled at by a panel while my dad defended him and i ate cookies cus ii was really manic,,,, i also was 15 1/2… he later let me try and commit suicide,, thats a story of a different colour,, sounds like sprockets, idk,, idontwafe war with very real religiossympomatic shat, iuuuuuhm , so,,,, hereswahat krb8tujvcklwelbutrin.,,, ya, it istaken orally it shoul get right to work in three ad a half weeks, if suicidal,,,,, pray, oooir if u cant get dxedrine,, or sum speed beane drink a bottle of childrensgeapecoughsyrup once a day,,,, this acts as a seritonin reuptake inhibitor of a differrentcolour. 2 to 4 hours,,,iu get the mental stimulation,, it reall is a mellow buzz butttttyupppidecare fuck cough syrop…… dexedrineisnt out there and i know it couould really bbe used and they aslso do,, ie. jfk, addisons disease, dexedrine/anphetamine. so,, it will make y0ur 90 year old great aunt we all frogot about over in blind river get up from the abyss of alzheimers and dementia and sing thins is the day that the lord hath made,, ,but with real and concious interaction,,, without memory of course. however,,, she does that,,, did that anyway , but,,, im sure every month not every day,, at least one trial of … iuffingadhd adults can take it,,, why cant she. smeared into the grate of every window and the classy bubble rooom which actually was made with enough pride according to the regionnsid say, to have an even more, almost funny, and certainly battered scratched and spat on bubble for the head psychiatrist t poke his head into every few days. Lets not froget how that scene ended. like my father and grandfather before me who conditioned and alterred the correctiona institutions for fifty fife years now a conmfortablevacatin for psychopaths and whoever, not even the hole could stand up to point blank restraints naked, with your flimsy gown around your chest. at least in the bubble room there was lots of privacy, u know, to each institution their own, glass , bubble blood stained, probably 60 years of ppl that somehow said something that attracted the attention of their nurse, who no doubt vollynteered after printing your file which is most likely epic thick, there is no room for any of their creative stylings in that no, i did just smash the wall into pieces and ya all the insulatin is everywhere, high five and respect from my cute transference mistress, (and a couple others.) Perverts Dictionary (O_o))))))))))))) Trilateral — jinx No doubt — yes, super Doble- adorable, dobles, adobles Straight up — forthrightly, correct, right, or goof Throwing babies makes them gay Avant garde — protect the old (art) stay the same Downtown, — quiet not ratting Technology — rewind/splice mp3 interchangable Right up — shooting up Not up — free (not in trouble) Word — “my promise” new word, yes Naw — ya goof / no Buzz out — use vibrator / get high Drone- parapsychological anomalie Phe — speed (methanphetamenes) Stellar — awsum / the sun / single thing Figure — shape (claivoiance) One — god / goof Out-gay or leaving No doubt — ur gay / im gay. (For sure (im a whore)) straight up In — a goof out “my thing ‘ — claivoiant animation (repeated) Pentagon/circuit — terrific Duality — love or contrast in nature Straight — not gay or no drugs Up-in torouble/retarded/fucked Goof — crazy p/pedophile / molester/rapist/asshole Pervert-whore/hooker Asshole-incessant talker(mean) Solid-honest reliable Ethereal — heavely, sticky, Bird- girl pervert , moron Badass-pervert/violent, missile Idiot –saying nething Toad- smaker (heavy) old vagina A hard — a stiffy Eh eh- turning vol down and then up to trick parents in the 70s in quebec Bonhome — dildo, goof, good man Ein — get in /out (here) goof (French) ass hole/vagina Institution/church shouting= good Tabernacle-chest Coalis-chalise Zeut-fuck Fuck- rape/damnet or sex Stomping — raping Bang out- beat on Beat up — gay kids trying to get their frieing off violently Rank out — make someone stink by working them or hurting them / cast someone out canadian military style (gay) , gang up on someone till they freak out (psychopaths do it all over Canada)’ Trast- drunk /party/water Dai-morning, cool, fun, ausum, hello! Good-goof Story along-paranormal happening involving ancestral memory Psychic-all in one, prophet telepath Telepathic — mind to mind talker, thinker Telekinetic- moving things/ ppl Claivoiance- seeing colour from other ppls minds Rod-skyfish/fast moving anomaly animal Vaj-old or young vagina Oss — dog or baby vagina Grandma- bag in tree Candy — transsexual My honey — sexy (on the wind(throwing laughter(female))) Beating off — complex Wacking off-pervert Jerking off — solid (female) Move-walk / go Mullet-militia Freak –goof (black word) Ca — crap — crow call Germ freak-someone who forces germs on ppl Quay-(beautiful woman (cunt) — woman) latin Mead-morphene Rin — heroin (dust / cookie crumble) Beans — speed pills Rids — Ritalin No shit- of course Jib-meth Hellfire — run off meth (bad) Food — crack Molly-mdma /e Bombs — ecstacy cid — Acid (lsd) shrooms-magic mushrooms sterl — brother (little) afgan weed — brown pot kife — bad weed (shake) leaves) shibby — cool/goof cool-gay/awsum fade white — see white on od (heroin/mescelin(go to heaven/hell)) road — freedom — out of institution the suck — mescalin myth ast — perversion telekinetic- asty sortof meta/physical movement from the brain outwardly god — goof — one or christ lady stink — female deodorant leave it — shirt on chest (gay /bi) stop it hiboit gland — make you fat cured with amricain medicine merican — goof citizen of America Canadian- a sovereign citizen of Canada (incestewous clown) Were done — end releationship British — gay mongerers Nono –nig mistake Famished — thirsty / starved Sent — innocent Pervert — to change something and make it last nothing — absence, bipolar universai — multiple universes psykinetics — telepathy / telekinetics/claivoiance geniupsy — psykinetic offspring genius — generating new thought (brilliant) bipolar- up and down serotonin and dopamine, psychopath — violent person sociopath — not caring about neone oppositional defiant — opposing help borderline personality — victim misbehaving schitzophrenic — high fixed dopamine, fixed seretonin (normal)\ drone — unpiloted airplane, good worker, artist , schitzophrenic dick — enlarged clitoris get out of here — come here little child aced — gay men trying to get pregnant, daughter , sqaired away k — ketamine ass — dad/grandfather hun — little stut( skank) brecky — greek (breakfast) supper — jewish (Dinner) brecko — Italian (breakfast) avatar — ethereal image of oneself asshole — girl or boy or rapist (north bay / Chicago)\ goof — sad or sexy ethereal image from shame can be cured with desensitization (knumbaning) (telepathic) ya — pedophile dude — black pedophile Italian cowboy, fake doctor (candadian) huffin — pretending to be someone else while using telekinteicks in a sexual fashion. sadomasochist — paingiver/enjoyer earphoning — hearing ppl in ypur speaker — hold speaker up to ear and hand over other ear, psychopaths recommendation pur — rapist/pervert uggz — ug;y phile — pedophile ace — gays — rape — sister — grandma-brother path — telepath or a psychopath/sociopath, can — male whore cop- fake police (pedophile) musac — music laid — losing virginity glowie — acid victims (creep) ente old stupid goof dex — cough syrup bed down — tie to bed (north bay) fuck right off — screw my girlfriend\ fuck off — go cop the u- universe no shit — definitely mangina — friend spect-respect right up — repect straight up — disguise Italian — scot Adisguzi — disgusting excuse me No shit- really? Love — goodbyek“love”  and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophise with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the moment my phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche,  at this moment I can prove using circumstancial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indesisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and psysical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living thngs on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not neccesarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings cresendoes babies,, are when the energy isnt circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, an the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what  he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, emparts her secret harboured denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, wheather the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivitol form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense,  my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misenterperted until the last few seconds before the line went dead (FUCK), were interperated and acknowledged and the whole venus in furs philosophy of the one party giving the other what it wants so bad, but has been denied, and doing it with love, or what they BOTH KNOW is the kind of love that’s needed and given over finally with effortless,  voluntary participation from the dominant, resuling in satisfaction in bohe parties (in my case the girl and I were more harmonized cause it was love based. Sex based, and send in the sacred medium of sound, and the talisman, the artifact, the memory the high velocity evidence that the message was of high fidelity, was that she didn’t use descriptive words (language) I was unfortunately (my medium at the time) it was her specific instrumental natural sirens alerting me to the intentions that truly lied behind her actions towards me  even if it was for that day only, this medium I collected from the field is highly obvious and irreplaceable piece of art that is regarded by the mind of the homosapien on a natural level as evidence that it not just social interacton, its a higher form of interaction, sexual yes, the highest form, occurs only when the truly loving is truly loved, on a sexual level, which indicates physical involvement,  and it did, only on one side, the side of the desired, the starvd had revieved the intention, and it was love, something metaphysical that can only be cofimed as occurring for ne length of time is undeniable corporeal action, even if its just her, givin er to you reading literature over the phone, the gift of reassurance that you are loved in this memorable case was not through words, but audible expressions from the depths of physical and mental activity from her diaphragm through her vocal chords and into my eardrum, was evidence enough that our seemingly healthy and thriving friendship was being held in limbo while I struggled with life and suffered over the denial of the true real deal love you were harbouring and saving in yourself for the future, didn’t dim and go out like a candle that burned up all the wax. Without official acknowledgement celebration and because I was still fucked up, without the long lasting  relationship that we wished wold follow and planned for, the sound of her primal sirens, sent mono ideo-dnamically from her entire physical being emitting frequencies that resonate with the earth around her and correspond with the stimuli, me, the correspondence being the brief experience of hearing the broadcast of it, acknowledging the fact that no matter how flawed or un aware I was prior to precieving what was transpiring an how classicly themed to fit my experience it was, that the fucking phone died before I heard the end of it, I clued in to what was going on, (id been informed of this “drone”she makes by her ex boyfriend (the other guy) right before he drove his helpful and convenient car out of her life)  Even if it was “her being noisy” it was fundamental sensual body chemistry, stimulated physically by the best means she knew how mentally by the imperative consciousness of the presence of the instinctualy, reproductivly essential of (in her case) a genuine male emitting stimuli, in both of our cases the stimuli was audio. The rare and most modern evolutionary trait is the simultaneous(I say this empathetically because were using language the figure this out not a live experiment going on right now or some shit) Emotional involvemint by both parties “while during coitus” bein, to into words, (I know that you’ve been loveing me so im gunna love you back) tho words are sweet but it doesn’t compare to the same message sent in the biologically, exceptional quality thats essential to the balance of the bodies involved and there connection to one another, the planet and the unverse, sound and where it comes from and the intention or involuntary reason for its presence and amplitude, dissonant or harmonious, perhaps my reading, my being on the line was the drone, and the harmony was her dissonant siren song. Its our new found puprose as humans to when ready reproduce.  Love is highly evolved, and requires corporeal and linguistic and energetic action on both parties to be confirmed as true love. It works like a battery(the casing of the battery is the relationship here), one end needs what the other end has access to; the positive end has its own energy attached to it(the juice in the battery, posetve energy),(in this case this is our one, the girl)attractive body(+end)and a mind (the positive ends underside that’s harboring all the energy in the friendship/relationship (battery casing)the negative port on the other end of the battery on its outside (my mind in this case)is permanently attached through the casing of the battery to the mind of the desired, this girls memories thoughts etc. (the underside of the positive end) and not her body. Why because the casing is plastic,( the friendship) isnt enough to join the two to create a circuit, but the love(the battery juice made up of strange elemets) attracted by her negative mind(the underside of the positive end) and makes her body(the tip) fertile and ready to create electricity(communication) only the casing of battery acid(loving friendship)charged by my positive actions(the acid is positively charged by the underside of my mind(the negative ends underside) which represents my body, which behaves like the warm intentions of my actions, which positively go nowhere unless her mind (negative underside of the top of the battery)gets inspired by the love in the friendship (which is positively charged yearning, my positive actions played lovingly into her open mind(negative underside of the top) inspiring her to do something with her body(top of the battery positive) in response to my positive charge on her mind and all the love it can unleash,  for the sake of warm intentions she turns on a cell phone,, her phone(or wire casing) the copper thread in the wire(the signal) the positive charge in the wire, (her calling me) and her hooking up the wire touching it to the negative end of the battery(her bodies actions and warm intentions inspired by a recognisable charge I embody that she identifies with(my body and life being negatively charged with aa positive mind and her beautiful face and attractive personality.)  my phone rings and I see its her, the one, I immediately am inspired that its her charge the one im missing positively lovely, what is she up to? and i pick it up, A simple circuit at this point, is her using a tool or wire to send all her positive energy through to her body by using her minds attraction to positive energy, by simply attaching the wire it sends the positive energy not just through her mind and body but back down on her body, when the extension (the wire) is put on my mind(the negative end of the battery in this case, my mind),deliberately by her, sending the energized current of the love in our friendship (juice in the battery) into my mind(the end of the battery with a bump) by way of the wire (cell phone signals connecting our phones and her voice and energy being the current) all the positive energy meets the negative charge of my mind and then that foreign female tone (positive electrical current) the positive energy stemming from the juice, the love, that’s made up of elements like lithium(in the case of the battery and in my case as well) this element and other alloys, the whole chemistry of the battery acid, holds the charge positive because energy flows, and love or acid can be charged by the bi polarity of conducters meaning they are opposing one anothers charge on the outside leaving potential for power over nature,  while on the inside, inside the battery the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, litteraly loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symetricaly and quite similarly to your perfect face and body  only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me,  from the beach into the city,  while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella,  drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I  stop, wait my energys charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and  the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged ablilitys that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit cant explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery,  the almost dead battery, poetic licence and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, Ive always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know theres more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours,  in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, theyd knock me out, blow to the head, ill miss away you time instead,  that lilliad inside your mind