but this is totally worth it


46. What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.

When Victor had first received the invitation from the Tsarevich, he’d had half a mind to decline.

But then Yakov had scolded him, telling Victor would be insolent at best and dangerous at worst. Victor couldn’t deny that, knowing Friedrich as well as he did. Ever since they were teenagers, Victor guiding the would-be Tsar around the ice, Friedrich had always made his temper known. Victor had often found him unpleasant at times in their youth, the callous way he would treat his servants rankling Victor’s sensitivities.

Once Victor’s coaching had ended when Friedrich entered the political sphere at eighteen, Victor had swallowed his distaste, taken the money he’d been granted and fled further West into the continent. Never in the last decade did Victor think the Tsarevich’s reach would stretch as far as Vienna, but here was Victor being proven unfortunately wrong.

Victor bowed to the doorman at the Hotel Imperial, handing his invitation over with a careful flick of the wrist. The doorman nodded, calling over an escort to bring Victor to what was no doubt going to be one of the more grand ballrooms. Friedrich always had a taste for fine things, even by royal standards. If the Tsar ever did die, (which looked unlikely, as the codger seemed intent of living forever), Friedrich would likely bankrupt Russia in a week.

Not that Victor cared, mind.

Victor followed his escort up the Royal Staircase, adjusting the buttons of his shirt from where the white cuffs sat below the sleeves of his black tailcoat. When Victor had first suggested a short jacket, preferring the more daring fashion of it, Yakov had nearly thrown the kettle he’d been boiling at the time at Victor’s head. While it had definitely been worth it to rile Yakov up, Victor knew that he’d do better to try and emulate the Russian aesthetic. Like a good countryman.

The escort took Victor’s overcoat, bowing low and opening the door to the ballroom for him. As expected, Victor was at first blinded by the grandness of it. Gilded walls, like the palaces of home and ornate chandeliers dripping glass and sparkling light across the room. There was chatter and music, and the smell of wine.

‘Victor Nikiforov!’ the escort announced to the room, Victor just biting his lip in time to stop a sigh of resignation.

The ballroom was full of what was undeniably an almost exclusively Russian crowd. Victor recognised some of the faces from his own readings and the papers- bankers and politicians, the odd ballerina. Russia must be empty, Victor thought to himself, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

‘Victor!’ A voice boomed and Victor pushed his hair from his face, preparing himself.

‘Your highness,’ Victor said in familiar Russian as Friedrich approached, bowing low. Friedrich was reflecting almost as much as the chandelier above him, Imperial military jacket bespeckled in shining brass buttons and gleaming medals that sat proudly against his chest. Knowing Friedrich, he was probably wearing them in the prayer of a war.

‘Oh, Victor!’ Friedrich said, grabbing Victor by the shoulders and shoving him upright. ‘Don’t be so formal. I couldn’t have that, dear friend.’

Victor blinked, truly surprised at being called dear. ‘Then what shall you have me call you?’

‘Nothing unpleasant,’ Friedrich replied with a wink, dark eyes hooded beneath his thick eyebrows. He had grown a beard in the last ten years, shaven square and elegant like his father’s. He had not grown much over the last ten years, only brushing Victor’s nose. Victor inclined his head.

‘I would never dream of it,’ Victor said with an easy grin, toasting his glass to Friedrich. Friedrich beamed from behind his beard, clapping Victor so hard on the back it had him choke on his sip of champagne. Hiding his cough, Victor let himself be led into the crowd.

‘Everyone, you must know who this is!’ Friedrich announced to a group of rather impressive looking men and women. Dressed in their finery and regarding Victor in his modest tailcoat with mild interest. ‘Victor Nikiforov, the ice dancer!’

‘Oh yes,’ a portly man said, nodding his red face in Victor’s direction. ‘I’ve heard of you. You have that- how do you say- ice show? Is that it?’

Victor rolled his shoulders. ‘Yes, I do. But only during the winter season, naturally. Otherwise, I spend my time with the ballet.’

‘A waste!’ a woman with blonde hair said, leaning into her husband’s side like what Victor had said almost had her swoon with misfortune. ‘To have such talent lost to the continent. I’ve seen your shows. The Bolshoi would be happy to have you.’

‘Victor was never one for patriotism,’ Friedrich said, giving Victor another strong pat on the back. Victor was rather getting the impression that Friedrich wanted Victor to be hunched over as often as possible, perhaps to make Friedrich appear taller. ‘Fled the old country the moment you were free to, didn’t you, my friend?’

‘Call it wanderlust,’ Victor said airily, taking another sip of champagne before he said something he’d regret.

‘I’d say it was lust of a sort,’ Friedrich said crudely and Victor coughed into his champagne, embarrassed. ‘You were always one to follow a pretty face!’

Victor didn’t know what to say to that, glancing around their company for some inclination of what to do. The other men laughed while their wives smiled benignly, which really only further Victor’s discomfort. He did not appreciate being laughed at.

‘Speaking of such, I must introduce you to someone,’ Friedrich said, taking Victor’s arm again and leading him down the ballroom. Victor smiled to those who nodded to him as they passed, guests bending low to Friedrich who paid them no attention. ‘I must say I didn’t even know you were here in Vienna. Ignorant, on my part, I know. But thankfully, my betrothed knew of your show and insisted we attend. He has quite an interest in skating, you see.’

‘I see,’ Victor replied, not really listening as he finished off his champagne. Then, Victor realised what Friedrich had said to him and stopped so suddenly, he nearly toppled them both to the ground. ‘Forgive me, but did you say your betrothed?’

Friedrich looked at Victor with great amusement. ‘I am a twenty-eight year old man, Victor. Did you think me incapable of finding one?’

‘No… No, of course not,’ Victor said, dazed. His mind was racing and Victor looked over Friedrich’s shoulder, paying far more attention to the people around them. ‘I knew you had an arrangement.’

‘A rather fortunate one, as it has proven to be,’ Friedrich said, puffing out his medaled chest. Victor was certain the flute in his hand would break, he was gripping the stem so tightly. Friedrich seemed not to notice Victor’s anxiety, starting to walk again. ‘He’s quite the beauty, though I’m sure you’ve heard already. Japan performed well in that regard. They must be awfully interested.’

Victor was barely listening, following Friedrich like he were dreaming. Victor felt weightless, without an anchor. His thoughts were running ahead of him, all the imagined fantasies he’d indulged in as a young man rushing down him in a wave of nostalgia that his heart reeling.

They were almost to the end of the ballroom, towards the large windows that led to the balcony overlooking the street. And through the fine chiffon curtains, Victor saw a figure.

The man was wearing what had to be the Japanese fashion, similar to what he had the first time Victor had met him as children. Shimmering satin of a deep, blood red with embroidered black and white spirals that crept up the carefully folded fabric like rose vines. He turned when Friedrich approached, dark eyes catching the golden light of the ballroom and Victor felt time stop around him.

Yuuri.

The years had been exceptionally kind to Yuuri. He had grown tall, though not as tall as Victor, and his frame willowy. Like a dancer, Victor thought as Yuuri’s slim arms came together in front of the thick, silk belt that bound his ensemble together. The dark hair Victor remembered seemed a tad longer, combed back over Yuuri’s head quite fashionably.

And though Yuuri’s face was not as round as Victor remembered it being as a child, his eyes were just as warm. Like firewood embers, earth-brown and catching like flint in the light.

‘Victor,’ Friedrich said, holding a hand out towards Yuuri like he were a particularly fine piece of art. Not that Victor would disagree with such an assessment, as it were. In heavily accented English, Friedrich introduced; ‘This is my fiancé, Yuuri Katsuki.’

Yuuri smiled when he met Victor’s eyes. It was a small thing, just the barest curl of his full lips and then Yuuri was bending low, his arms in front of him.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Victor,’ Yuuri said in English so elegant, it was almost without accent to Victor’s ear. As he straightened back up, Victor was still frozen, all manners and protocol slipping from his mind entirely. Yuuri titled his head, dark eyes burnt gold from the light around them.

‘I think you have him quite stunned,’ Friedrich said and Yuuri looked away, his cheeks colouring. Friedrich laughed and it broke Victor from his reverie, looking to the Tsarevich in a panic. ‘Oh, do not trouble yourself, my friend. Even the court quite forgets the look of their own shoes when they see him.’

‘You are too kind, Your Highness,’ Yuuri said blithely, almost sounding rehearsed to Victor’s ear. He doubted Friedrich’s English was strong enough to pick it up, however. Friedrich stepped over to Yuuri, but Victor noted Yuuri’s slight shift. The way his hips angled slightly away.

‘What is the use of you if I can’t inspire jealousy?’ Friedrich asked, touching Yuuri’s elbow. Victor looked down, unable to stop himself. He saw the satin of Yuuri’s robe bunch, Friedrich was gripping so tight. ‘Yuuri insisted we see your show and once I recognised you, I simply had to invite you to our gathering. Only Russia’s finest, I assure you.’

‘I’m honoured,’ Victor said truthfully, looking to Yuuri’s face. Yuuri glanced up at him from beneath his dark lashes, cheeks still pink. ‘If I have ever done anything you found engaging, then I would consider myself achieved.’

‘Such flattery!’ Friedrich cried, releasing Yuuri and stepping away. He patted Victor’s shoulder again. When he spoke, it was in Russian, Yuuri’s face going blank at the sound of it; ‘I trust with such a sweet tongue you can keep Yuuri entertained while I meet with the General?’

Victor could only nod, not trusting himself to speak. Friedrich smiled at the both of them, before stepping back into the ballroom. Victor stayed where he was, too afraid even to move. Yuuri glanced up at him, a true smile breaking across his beautiful features.

‘Hello, again, Victor.’

‘Yuuri,’ Victor said, grinning before he could stop himself. ‘I wish I had the words, but I don’t.’

Victor walked up to Yuuri, impropriety abundant in his boldness but Victor found himself uncaring. Yuuri looked up at him, smiling so widely now his teeth were flashing between his lips. Victor reached out with his free hand, taking Yuuri’s own by the fingers. He raised it up, pressing the chilled skin to his lips.

‘I’m afraid I don’t have any gloves to offer you this time,’ Victor said, words kissed to Yuuri’s fingers. Yuuri was watching him, smile faltering only slightly.

‘You cut your hair,’ Yuuri said, hand slipping out of Victor’s grip. For a moment, Victor thought Yuuri might reach up to touch the careful sweep Victor retained over his left side, but then Yuuri’s hand was gone entirely. ‘It suits you well.’

Victor laughed. ‘You remember my hair?’

‘I remember all of you,’ Yuuri replied, before his eyes went wide. He stepped back, hands tight down at his sides. ‘Forgive me, that was untoward.’

‘It’s flattering to know you’ve thought of me,’ Victor said honestly and Yuuri blushed, turning to face the street from the balcony wall. Victor walked up beside him, his hand brushing against the silken edge of his robe. ‘I’ve thought of you as well. More often than I’m sure is proper for me to admit. Seeing you again is… Like something from a dream.’

Yuuri went nearly as red as his robe, blinking up at Victor with such shock that Victor was sure he’d overstepped. He was just about apologise when Yuuri laughed quietly, pushing a stray hair behind his ear.

‘You’re a skilled flatterer. No wonder you dance so well.’

‘It is truth,’ Victor said earnestly, placing his empty champagne flute down on the balcony wall. He watched Yuuri, careful not to push. ‘I find myself wondering if you kept the gloves I gave you. If you ever tried skating. If you ever think of me. To know at least one of those things for certain is more than I could ever have imagined all these years.’

Yuuri said nothing to that, eyes back down on the street below. Victor saw Yuuri tug on his lip with his teeth, almost like he were concentrating. Perhaps on the carriages that were making their way through the snow that lay across the cobbles.

‘Tell me, Yuuri,’ Victor said, trying to charm and stepping back to appreciate Yuuri’s dress once again. ‘Are you actively seeking a poetic death of cold? Every time I meet you, you seem intent on standing out in the snow.’

‘I must confess a secret,’ Yuuri said, looking up with a bashful nervousness. Yuuri inclined his head behind them. ‘I don’t care much for these political parties. I don’t really perform well with an audience, despite what His Highness says. I’d rather be out here alone and cold, than warm and with those people.’

Victor laughed, charmed as he had been at seventeen. ‘I certainly can’t blame you for that. I ran from the whole country. But I can tell you a secret, so you don’t feel too bad for it. Might be a dreadful secret though.’

Yuuri smiled, eyes coy. ‘I’m sure I could pardon you.’

Victor stepped closer, waiting for Yuuri to meet his eye. He watched Yuuri’s face, traced the lines of the cheeks Victor remembered and the lips he’d dreamed of.

‘What if I told you that I have been in love with you since we were children?’ Victor asked, voice low with an emotion too dangerous to name. Yuuri looked at Victor, his brown eyes round.

‘Then I would say you were a fool,’ Yuuri replied, breathless and it put a fire in Victor’s heart. ‘Who says such things?’

‘Fools, I’m told,’ Victor teased back, cautious but not adverse to the tension that gathered between them. It reminded him of the thunderous clouds that would roll over Vienna in the autumn time, promising split skies and flooding rain. Yuuri looked as devastating as a storm.

‘Or liars,’ Yuuri said, voice suddenly cold. He stepped away from Victor, hands before him again in perfect posture. He stood tall, regarding Victor warily. ‘It was good to see you again, Victor.’

Before Victor could say anything else, Yuuri turned and headed back into the ballroom, leaving Victor standing in the snow, wondering if he’d ever misstepped so badly before in his life.

PSA

If you’re a black person who likes rock, anime, hockey, country music, classical instruments, comic books, or any other conventionally “not black” thing:

Your skin tone does not determine your hobbies and your interests are totally valid and if anybody tries to make you feel bad for enjoying something just because you don’t look a certain way they are sad sack of mealworms and aren’t worth your attention.

Aberrations || 9

Author: RandomBTSPrincessa

*ALL RIGHTS RESERVED*

Characters: Yoongi x Reader (Just a little bit more, I promise)

Chapters:  01  02  03  04  05  06  07  08

A/N: The next part will be the last. Also, I recommend listening to Hold Me Tight by BTS (obviously) for this chapter. The vocal part will be the Reader’s and the rap part is Yoongi’s. Enjoy, lovelies!


Originally posted by jinje-reactions


Life had slowed down in some stages for me while picked up pace in other stages.

I no longer could tell where my nights went, quiet and spent in the solace of my bedroom while my laptop played all the hits of misery and melancholy and chocolate ice cream was my main man and my bed my soul mate. The nights never seemed to want to stay though, slipping through my fingers like sand, 10 hours passing by in the blink of an eye. I would close my eyes and it would be day.

The days however dragged on and on and on.

I couldn’t afford to sit at home all the time so I had to go to classes, sitting through them distracted and not getting anything except marks for attendance. I figured, I could always ask one of my classmates for help getting the coursework…when I got over the catastrophe my life had become.

There were two classes I avoided like the plague though; Singing and Music Production.

There was no way Sehun or Min Yoongi would be missing their classes over me and I was in no way ready to look either of them in the eye yet. I had to sit in one of the on campus cafes but the hours always seemed to go like a snail weaving its way through a maze of salt.

I had cursed Time to the very pits of hell, right next to Min Yoongi.

He and Sehun had nearly completely vanished from my life, Sehun less than Yoongi. I still saw him around, walking about with his friends, sometimes girls, sometimes boys, looking perfectly groomed as always, the Golden Boy. He never seemed to be aware of my watching him and after a while he stopped looking like there was something wrong with his life.

The rumor that Oh Sehun and Y/L/N Y/N had broken up reached me a week later which made me wonder if Sehun had actually somehow withheld the information to save whatever damage that would cause his image but it didn’t seem like it. He was brilliant as always…

…and I didn’t miss him…not even a bit.

Yoongi however, I never saw. It wasn’t that surprising; I hadn’t even known he went to the same college until the project so it made sense I wouldn’t see him around later. This had been the plan, hadn’t it? To see through the project, then bid adieu. Well, that hadn’t worked but oh well.

In comparison…I missed him an unnecessary amount.

Life was not fair.


“Here you go,” Taehyung placed my large helping of school work on the table and folded his arms, watching me file through them, his glasses glinting in the light.

“Thanks Tae, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I muttered.

“Well, totally not pass the course, for one,” he said drily but grinned impishly when I rolled my eyes at him. “So, what’s wrong with you, anyway?” he asked.

“Nothing, I just don’t feel right.” I said.

“Is it cause of Min?” he asked.

I blanched at him and it was his chance to roll his eyes.

“I may not be the girls, Y/N, attuned to these things but I’m not blind. It’s been painfully obvious. What did he do? Do I need to kick his ass?” he asked.

I chuckled. Taehyung, shy and meek Taehyung kicking someone’s ass, especially Min Yoongi’s ass was comical even in its contemplative state but I was grateful he cared so much.

“No, Tae, you know I can do ass kicking myself.” I smiled.

He smiled back hesitatingly.

“So, any word on Sehun?” he asked gently.

I froze.

Taehyung knew Sehun and I had ended it but he had no idea that Yoongi had something to do with it. That information was only for the girls. I loved Taehyung but I wasn’t sure how he would take the news, seeing as he had once seen me crying because of him. Taehyung would probably go into over protective mode and do something he would regret.

No matter how laid back Yoongi seemed, I for one could tell that under all that, he was extremely powerful and I wasn’t talking about his money.

Hence, I knew Taehyung, who couldn’t stand conflict usually would want Sehun and me to get back together.

“No, Tae, it’s over…for good.” I said firmly, watching him sigh and look down, nodding.

“I guess it’s good, what with your liking Min and all.” He slung his bag on his shoulder, ignoring my gaping mouth as he dropped a kiss on top of my head.

“See you later, Y/N.” he said and left the café.


“Heard you’ve been skipping all your classes,” I smiled naturally at the familiar voice, not looking up as the boy deposited himself in the seat Taehyung had vacated, looking dubiously at all the paper work in front of me.

“You would’ve heard wrong. I am only skipping two.” I said, making him laugh.

“My bad, what can you say? The school vine sucks.” Jimin placed his head on his hands.

I looked up at him. “Why are you here?” I asked.

He pouted. “You don’t visit me anymore, I missed you.” He said. I stared at him for a bit and his playful expression dropped, replaced by seriousness. “I heard about you and Sehun. I’m sorry. I also heard about you dropping Yoongi in the project.” He said.

I peered at him. “Did he tell you that? Is that all?” I asked.

“Yeah, or more like, I found out accidentally because he was muttering about you dropping him at the last moment in the studio and how he was stuck,” He said.

“Well, tell him that I’m glad he’s suffering.” I said coolly, returning to my papers.

“Yeah, I would if I could but we’re not talking at the moment.” He said.

I frowned, “Why not?” I asked.

“Well, I…asked him what happened and you know how he is about eavesdropping. It’s fine only when he does it, apparently. I found out about Sehun’s party and stuff and I know I shouldn’t have and I am not judging you at all.” He said hastily.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I know you guys kissed and how it was a mistake and it shouldn’t have happened and you were drunk and he was taking advantage so he told you to go and I…might’ve yelled at him about how he’s an idiot and now he’s mad at me. Not that that’s new anyway, he’s always mad at me.”

I suddenly felt disgusted. He couldn’t even tell the truth?

“Jimin, I’m sorry.” I said quietly.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s an ass, I know.”

“Yeah, listen, I need to go.” I said, feeling choked and restless.

I couldn’t sit here in front of Jimin’s watchful gaze. Yoongi had lied about what had happened that night to protect himself, most likely. Was that how much I mattered? No, I hadn’t mattered, I reminded myself. I was just a stupid girl, romanticising his actions. I need to stop doing that.

“Oh, okay,” Jimin looked surprised but didn’t say anything as I gathered up the papers and went off to find the girls.


“He lied?” Yerin hissed, her cheeks flushed, her legs, encased in velvet leggings kicking mine as she almost thrashed in her chair in rage.

I shrugged, stabbing some sausage with a little more force but that totally had nothing to do with our topic of conversation, none at all.

“What a jerk.”

“The nerve.”

Ara and Doona chimed in encouragingly but by then I was beyond the point of caring. If Yoongi wanted to show me that I was worth next to nothing well then, message received loud and clear. I would back off and I would show him exactly that. I was done with both Sehun and Yoongi’s crap. I was done being walked over.

Both of them would be seeing me in the next class, which happened to be in two more days. That was plenty of time, wasn’t it? I would be over all of this by Monday. I could do it.

“Well the project ends today, what do you think he did with yours?” Doona asked suddenly.

My fork hit my plate with a loud clang making the girls freeze as they eyed me.

“Um…Y/N…?” Ara asked.

“The month is over?” I asked, my voice high pitched as Ara pulled up the calendar on her phone, showing it to me.


The end of the month hit me with the force of ten freight trucks. I had been so wrapped in the entire self wallowing bubble of mine I hadn’t even thought about taking a look at the days, wanting to just get through them all together.

It suddenly felt silly.

What had it been? A fortnight, perhaps, since our last encounter. Yoongi and I, if we hadn’t been through that disaster of a night, we would just have to deal with each other for two weeks before we’d both be out of each other’s lives for good. Guess destiny had an earlier escape planned for us.

Now that the project was officially done, Taehyung and I would be partners again, further reason to attend classes, just for Tae if not for me. I couldn’t be that selfish.

The thought that Yoongi would be sitting right at the back, probably not even concerned that I had or hadn’t attended classes caused a small ache in my chest, one I crushed mercilessly. Both Sehun and Yoongi had pushed and pulled at me like I was a doll. Even if I was not completely innocent, they had no right to claim they were victimized saints.

I had trusted them that had killed a small part of me each time they let me down. I had loved them, they both hurt me. I was real with both of them and now they both hated me.

Now, though, it was time to get myself together.

I wasn’t rich; I didn’t have my position cut out like they did. No, I needed credibility. I wasn’t going to achieve that sitting at home.

Gritting my teeth, I braced myself for the next day.


Hoseok slammed the door to Min Yoongi’s house open with his shoulder, his hands struggling to juggle the snack boxes and coffees.

Yoongi looked up from the couch, arching his brows at his struggling friend.

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to get up and give me a goddamn hand.” Hobi growled.

“I didn’t tell you to get more than you can carry.” Yoongi replied coolly, his attention already on the movie.

“You know how hungry Jimin and I get. We don’t have the luxury of sitting on our asses with headphones on all the time, acting like a jerk.” Hobi dropped the food on the coffee table before looking about.

“Where is Jimin anyway?”

“He isn’t coming.” Yoongi said.

“What, why? Chim never misses movie day and this is his recommendation.” Hobi frowned before slowly turning to look at his best friend.

“Yoongi, what did you do?” He asked.

“I may or may not have told Jimin off for butting into things that weren’t his concern and he might or might not have been offended and walked off.” Yoongi said.

Hobi worried his lips with his teeth, sighing at his friends’ childishness.

“What was the thing he butted in?” he asked.

Yoongi flicked the volume up with his remote, shrugging the question off. “Damn it, Suga, spit it out.” He snapped.

Yoongi’s eyes flashed towards his best friends with a frown. “Nothing, I was just muttering about things and he overheard. Instead of letting it go he started probing into me like a fucking therapist.” He growled.

Hobi sank into the armchair next to the couch. All the signs pointed to only one thing.

“It was Y/N, wasn’t it?” he asked angrily.

Yoongi paused for a second before leaning forwards for the cup of coffee but Hoseok was faster. He snatched the cups away and watched coolly as the other boy glared at him.

“So, it was her.” He affirmed.

“What about it? I can talk about whoever I want.” Yoongi said.

“Yoongi, you know Jimin cares about her,” Hoseok began but Yoongi broke in with a scoff.

“He cares about her a bit too much.” he spat.

“Oh god, tell me you’re not jealous. Jimin doesn’t care about her like that but he wasn’t just about to let you bad mouth her. Even I wouldn’t let you bad mouth her.” He said reasonably.

“I wasn’t bad mouthing her. Jeez, you all need to stop getting on my back about her. I might have been a dick to her that night but I haven’t even seen her since she broke it off with her boyfriend.” He dropped his jaw, sticking his lips out in a pout as unbidden, thoughts of Y/N came out of nowhere, his fingers on her skin, her soft lips brushing his, the way his hands dug into her hips, the way her eyes looked into his, her laugh at his rare and very not funny jokes.

“Wait…you saw her day she broke up with Sehun?” Hoseok asked.

Yoongi was brought back rudely to reality from reliving the feel of her hair wrapped around his fingers as he turned his head absently. “What?”

“You said you hadn’t seen her since the day she broke it off. You didn’t…what happened?” Hobi was using his cautious voice. He could feel the real cause for all his friend’s problems was sitting right there, in Yoongi’s head and he just had to know.

“I don’t know what –,”

“Yoongi,” Hoseok said warningly.

His eyes drooped, looking to his side as if he was looking at a person before he sighed. “We…slept together.” He said his voice constricted.

The curse that escaped Hobi’s mouth was so loud that Yoongi actually jumped, scowling at his usually mild friend.

“You…what?” Hobi asked.

“We didn’t plan it. It just happened.” Yoongi defended.

“Ok…ok…so you guys had sex…but then…why aren’t you guys…what else happened?” he asked.

Yoongi fiddled with the small black ring on his thumb and Hoseok actually had to punch him in the shoulder to get him to talk. Yoongi hissed, moving away from touching range.

“I said things I shouldn’t have…nothing new.” He grunted.

“Things like that time in the studio or…”

“Worse,”

Hobi dropped his head in his hands, emitting a groan that made Yoongi drop his own head, the movie long forgotten.


My fingers clicked on the desk impatiently, frowning at the small email box open on my laptop. It had to be a mistake. There was no way he had sent that email. I clicked on the tab to fully open it.

It was from Namjoon, a short email letting me know that he had received my and Yoongi’s song, looked forward to it and hoped we matched up to expectations.

I let out a bitter huff, falling back on the chair.

What song?

I had left Yoongi in that project. There was no way he had managed to complete a song in that time and even if he had, seeing as how he was a genius, there was no way he would include me into it. He was petty enough for that. Although, he probably did it to save face for himself, because that was what he did. I had no place of note in his life after all, so it definitely wasn’t for me.

I shut the laptop and got out of my chair with a huff, picking up and satchel and jacket, looking into the mirror of my dressing table.

“You can do this.” I told myself and walked out of the house to attend my classes.


Taehyung gushed the whole time I sat next to him, finally getting our original partners back.

I had walked into the class with the aim to hold my head up high but it had faltered the second I had crossed the threshold and my head had dropped, not even skimming the chattering class as I sank into my chair, Tae turning immediately and musing about our new projects. I knew he was trying to distract me and I was grateful.

Mr. Kim didn’t seem to have much planned for the day’s class, it seemed. He congratulated us for being well behaved and responsible about the assignment, told us that grades and songs will be posted on the website before being added to our final grade.

I frowned, biting my lip, fighting the urge to turn and look for the man who’d turned my life upside down but resisted. What had he done?

When Namjoon let the class go, Taehyung immediately grabbed for my hand. “So, hot chocolate…your treat,” he said cutely and I almost melted at the hopeful look in his eyes.

“How about this; we go to your house and I make you an entire lunch…and I am dying to listen to your song.” I said. His smile turned into a grin. “Yes, that works.” He said, bouncing slightly on his feet. “Great, just give me a minute, I need to talk to Kim about something.” I said.

“Sure, meet me at my car.” He said.


“Um, Mr. Kim?” I asked.

Namjoon signed off a sheet and looked up, pushing his glasses up, “Yes, Y/N, I know, Taehyung told me you were feeling sick and had hospital appointments.” He said.

“Oh no, I mean, yeah, sir, I just wanted to talk to you about the project.” I said.

He surprised me by breaking out into a grin. “Yes, your song with Mr. Min. I must say I am impressed, Y/N. the way you came to me saying you couldn’t work with him had me thinking you would drop out of the project but you kept at it. The song is…most different from what Yoongi has delivered over the course of this semester. I was pleasantly surprised. I suppose my assumption was correct; you have been good for Mr. Min.”

“Huh?” I said, very eloquently but he was still talking.

“It’s raw, I admit, but the emotion and meaning of the song is so…unadulterated, it really moved me. Your and his voice match well for it, I might just pair you with him but I wouldn’t do that to Taehyung or Yoongi. Changing assignments, maybe but now completely, don’t worry,” he chuckled at the look on my face, probably thinking I was horrified of losing Tae. He was wrong; of course, I was horrified at what Min Yoongi had done.

I bowed to the teacher before rushing out.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Taehyung asked as I grabbed the keys from his hands. “Just get in, we need to get somewhere with internet and a computer fast.” I huffed, getting into the driver’s side myself.


“You want to tell me now, what’s wrong?” Taehyung asked, cautiously as if I was going to bite his head off any second.

“Just hang on,” I mumbled.

Taehyung and I had arrived at his apartment at break neck speed, him clutching his dashboard and trying to get me to slow down but I never did, almost dislocating his arm in my haste to get to his laptop. I switched to the website and opened the studio listings, finding Yoongi’s name immediately, listed next to mine.

I plugged in Tae’s headphones and put them over my head, turning up the volume as Taehyung folded his legs under him, watching me.


The opening rifts began and to my surprise and growing trepidation it was that piano tune, the one I’d walked in on him playing. Dark and resonating, it ended in him humming, something I had never heard him do as the song began.

I empty my drink, filling it with loneliness,

Should’ve just given in, why did I argue all the time?

Yoongi’s voice, rough and bleak spoke the words quietly, almost rhetorically, making me press the headphone in closer, not wanting to miss out anything.

All I did was color you in my blank white paper,

But I realized, it had already became a full picture,

Like cell phones, we know we’ll be broken when we’re apart,

Your scent is the only thing that completes me, hug me, now

His voice changed, becoming faster, if possible rougher as he spat out the words. I closed my eyes as the background music stopped, leaving his voice to drop back to the original bass, becoming as gentle as a caress.

I can only see you; I can only see you alone.

I shivered at his voice, the timbre reminding me of the way he had said my name, that night. Unexpectedly, my voice sung out, weaving in between his as the words I’d written and recorded merged with the deep rap.

I’m fair with everyone else but you,

Now I can’t live a single day without you, please…

Hold me Tight…hug me now, please…

My hand shook as I skipped my voice, eager to listen to his.

I listened to the entire song for what felt like hours, not believing even for a second that it existed. But no, on the desktop there was still, in small letterings his and my name next to the title: Hold Me Tight, a song with both our words.

I shut the laptop at long last, pulling off the headphones to look at Taehyung curled up on the sofa, fast asleep.

Just as well, I thought, throwing the throw cover on top of him as I sat down on the floor again, my head in my hands.

What did it mean? Did Yoongi actually mean the words he’d said so unabashedly, sewing them around mine seamlessly, making them one? Or had he just heard what I’d made and thought he didn’t have to go to a lot of trouble? One thing was true, it was raw. He hadn’t added any effect to his or my voices save for making it seem like we’d both done the recording at the same time.

Did…he feel the way he’d said in the song?

I shook my head, clearing it or trying to. Min Yoongi needed to get out of my head. It was over, we were over. I never was going to see him again. There was no point in digging into it.

I looked at the sleeping boy next to me and smiled, pulling out my phone and sending out a text in our group:

PARTY TIME GIRLS AND BOYS TODAY AT DARK WILD, 8 PM

I shut the phone off, staring into nothingness in front of me. It was time I went back to normal, no Yoongi, no Sehun drama normal.


Taehyung twirled me, me holding onto his pinky finger as he giggled like a little boy, before throwing out his long arms and waving them to catch Ara and Doona’s attention. We had finally made it to Dark Wild, me, the girls, Taehyung and Jungkook as I was ready to let loose and forget my life for at least three to four hours.

Ara and Doona dragged Yerin and Jungkook too and we made a circle, screaming as a deep bass filled the club, the EDM making my pulse throb in my veins.

“Is this taking your mind off of it?” Yerin asked in my ear and I smiled widely at her, trying not to slip back into the thoughts of a few days ago.

I just didn’t want to think at all.

“I am thirsty! And drunk!” Taehyung yelled in his deep voice, slumping to the side into Doona and she rolled her eyes, grinning at our light weight friend as Jungkook went to lend a shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll get him some water.” I said, laughing as I went to the bar, asking for a tall glass of water.

The barman cast one look at Taehyung’s figure in our corner and grinned, sliding a glass of ice water to me and I turned, starting towards the group when a tall figure blocked my way.

I frowned immediately.

“Excuse me,” I said, looking up and immediately freezing, my hands matching the cold water’s temperature.

Sehun stared down at me with an unreadable expression on his face. I gaped at his appearance. He was dressed in his usual ‘I own the world’ style but his eyes were reddish as were his cheeks. He was obviously drunk. He looked so different from how put together he looked at school.

“Sehun,” I breathed, worriedly, glancing at my friends but they were too far away and wouldn’t hear anything over the music.

“You look so scared.” He said.

My eyes went back to him. He looked drunk but his words weren’t slurred. He probably was still mostly sober.

“I am not.” I said, trying to walk past him but he moved to the side, countering me.

“Sehun, I don’t want to talk to you.” I said.

“I could tell. I sent you texts, called you, emailed you, but you didn’t reply once. What, am I not good enough for you anymore?” he asked.

“I would say you thought I wouldn’t be good for you.” I hissed.

“That’s where you’re wrong, baby. I never said that. You were amazing. You were perfect before you changed.” He hissed.

“You changed too.” I retorted, watching his eyes flicker.

“I was dealing with things! I need you on my side, on my team! You left me.”

I scoffed, again trying to get away but his hand shot out, latching on my arm so tightly, I winced.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to stay here and talk to me. You’re going to start by telling me who the other guy is. Is he here with you now?” he hissed.

I tried to shake his hand off. “Sehun, get off,” I said.

He sneered, tightening his grip instead. I nearly dropped the glass before placing it on a chair and gripping his hand, “Sehun, please,” I whispered.

“What is it? You don’t like me touching you anymore, baby?” he scoffed.

He was going to bruise me, I thought desperately, still trying to get his hand off. “You’re hurting me, Sehun.” I plead. His eyes didn’t soften. “You hurt me too, babe.” He said.

Get your hand off her.”

For the second time in the night, I froze but this time Sehun did too, his eyes lifting from my almost crying ones to see who had spoken.

I closed my eyes. Just one night, I just wanted one night free from all this.

Yoongi walked, smoothly and confidently towards us, his eyes steely. I was surprised at his appearance again. His hair was dyed back to its natural black, deep and inky. He was in a full-fledged suit, black and form fitting. He looked as if he could stop the world with a snap of his fingers. This was the real Min Yoongi. He came to stand next to, his own hand closing around Sehun’s and yanking it off me. 

I pulled my arm away, rubbing at it furiously as Yoongi slipped in front of me, barring Sehun from me.

“Min, stay out of this. I’m having a conversation with my girlfriend.” He said.

Ex-girlfriend and it doesn’t seem that she wants to have a conversation with you. I suggest you back off and not lay your hands on her.” Yoongi replied easily.

“Look, you don’t know anything, ok? So whatever idea of misplaced loyalty you have to her, take it and leave.” He Sehun snarled. “You don’t know what she has been doing.” He said, his eyes finding me behind Yoongi.

“I honestly don’t care, Sehun, but if you think I am going to stand by and watch you manhandle her, you’ve got me all wrong.” He snapped.

“I wasn’t manhandling her. She was running off to some other guy!” he roared.

I flinched, looking around to see people were beginning to stare, even the barman but he wasn’t interfering. Naturally, he must know Yoongi was the son of the owners, he wouldn’t say anything.

This could turn bad. Sehun was drunk. What if he hit Yoongi?

“That’s her business.” Yoongi shrugged. His voice was tightening, I realized, catching on to the signs that even Yoongi, cool and calm Yoongi was beginning to lose his cool. I reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the muscles tense and flex through the material of his suit jacket. He paused for a minute before relaxing under my touch.

“Yeah well, it’s mine too because the bitch was cheating on me. She fucked some slimy bastard behind my back. I can talk to her if I want because I didn’t do anything wrong and you can’t stop me, you don’t own this place.” he spat out running a hand through his hair.

Yoongi’s fist bunched and I tightened my hold on his arm. He had officially gotten mad. If he punched Sehun it would ruin his image. What if someone found out who he was?

Instead, Yoongi surprised me by chuckling, low and dark. “Actually, I can stop you, Sehun.” The way he said his name was a direct threat.

“You want to know why? Because I am the slimy bastard she slept with,” Yoongi’s voice had dropped several octaves, his tone so dangerous it made the hair on the back of my neck stand.

Sehun’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping, his body slumping as he stared at Yoongi. “Y-You?” he asked.

“Yes, Oh, me, as far as I am concerned, she left you the night of your birthday when you were a dick to her so she didn’t exactly cheat. Now, I would suggest you watch your language about her and keep your distance from us.” He said, backing slightly into me, his back pressing into my side.

“Y-you can’t possibly…you hate each other!” Sehun grunted.

“Maybe we do, but that is not your concern anymore. Just stay away from her.” Yoongi said and triumphantly turned, grabbing my hand as he led me off. I numbly followed, as people kept throwing us glances.

Yoongi led me to a back hallway, opening a utility door and letting us out into an alley.


He shut the door with a loud clang as I wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing off any residual wetness around my eyes. I jumped when I felt his fingers gently wrap around the stinging spot on my arm where Sehun had gripped me.

I whirled out of his hold, backing up as he followed slowly, eyes, dark and intense on me. “Are you hurt?” he asked his voice still low and urgent.

“I am fine.” My voice came out squeaky and I cleared my throat quickly.

“Y/N,” he began but I shook my head. “I should head inside. The others would be waiting for me.” I said.

“You can’t go inside. He’s still inside. Just text them,” he waved a hand dismissively.

I frowned. Did he think he could boss me around after everything he said? I wanted to ask but I had more pressing questions.

“Why?” I asked.

“Why what?” he asked.

“Why would you stand up for me? You didn’t have to do that.” I said, folding my arms.

His face fell before contorting. “I didn’t have to do that? You’re joking, right? I am part of the reason why he was thrashing you about and he hurt you!” he said.

“Still,” I said.

He stopped, watching me carefully.

“You know why I did it, Y/N. You don’t have to ask.” He said.

“No, I don’t.” I shook my head.

He ignored that. “Did you hear the song?” he asked.

“What does it matter? I want to know why you did it!”

“I already told you!”

“No, you’re lying because you made it quite clear what you felt that morning!” I gritted. “You can’t take it back, not like that. You can’t just say something like that to Sehun and sing some songs and think everything is ok!” I said.

“So you did hear the song?”

I growled, wanting to smack the stupid smirk off his face and my fist closed but he caught it.

“Are you going to hit me again?” he tilted his head curiously.

I laughed bitterly. “Hit you? No, Yoongi, that would require me touch you and I don’t even want to look at you.” He said.

Yoongi looked pissed as he glared at me.

“You know, I didn’t write that entire song. I was filling in for you. You made the song. So, tell me, Y/N, how long have you had feelings for me?” he asked.

He smirked again, arms crossing as mine dropped as I gawked at him.

“It could’ve been for Sehun too.” I fought.

He snorted. “Doubtful, Y/N, I’m not an idiot. Tell me how long.”

“I don’t –,”

“How long?” he yelled, his loud voice echoing around the empty alley.

“Since I met you!” I shouted back, watching his jaw drop. “What?” he asked weakly.

“Ever since I saw you, you’ve been eating away at my mind. I thought I hated you but you fucking fascinated me. I thought it would be easy to hate you because you were an ass but then you turned out to be nice. You were being sweet and kind and funny and I just…let myself fall…but then I turned out to be right. You were an egocentric ass. I thought you felt the same. I thought you cared too but I guess not.” I said.

Yoongi was moving even before I was finished. Both hands came up to grab the sides of my face and he pulled me to him roughly, his lips closing on mine as he pushed me back against the wall, trapping me between the cold bricks and his warmth. He kissed me harshly and I kissed back with equal fervor, releasing pent up frustration and heart ache against his mouth.

I shoved him away finally, both of us gasping for breath as he tried to move in again but I held up my hands.

“You’re as bad as Sehun.” I panted.

“What the hell do you mean? I didn’t manhandle you!” he said.

“You broke my heart too.” I said softly and his eyes dropped.

“And I am sorry for it, but if would just listen to me,” he began.

“You don’t get it, Yoongi. You can’t make this up. There is nothing at all that you can say that would make it up.” I said.

“Let me finish. I just need you to listen to what happened. It was a misunderstanding.” He said.

His voice was edging towards desperation but I wasn’t going to let him do this to me.

“I can’t, Yoongi.” I moved to the side, towards the opening of the alley.

He moved with me. “Please, give me one chance to explain, Y/N. I’m not trying to make it up to you. I want us to start over completely.”

I looked down, trying to walk off again but his hand shot out, blocking my way as he pressed his palm to the wall. “I am not going to let you walk away again, Y/N.” he said, his voice stoic again.

I sighed. I just wanted this to be over. “Okay,” I said softly. 

anonymous asked:

About the Mari thing, idk if you even want opinions sorry, but as a kid with a parent who didn't want to be one, it's better for the child if the parent is either there or just not there, those little visits hurt the most bc it can give the kid the idea that they are the issue instead of the parent not wanting a child. idk if I explained this right...

Yeah, that totally makes sense. That’s basically what I was thinking too. Mari loves seeing her mom but these short visits arent worth the pain she feels afterwards. 

Rey’s Parentage

I’m going to be straight with you: I’m dead fucking tired of Kylo Ren. Tumblr is obsessed with the character. A character who doesn’t sell merchandise, a character who really only exists to help advance other characters arcs. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him totally irrelevant, but he’s nowhere near as important as the entirety of Tumblr would tell you.

So today, I’m going to talk about something that actually fucking matters to Star Wars: Rey’s parentage.

Join me under the cut!

Keep reading

@theloveindreams replied to your photo “193.2 last Monday –> 192.2 Tuesday –> 196.6 Wednesday –> 196.6…”

Ugh dude I don’t even want to have cheat days anymore because of how far they set me back! What a turnoff! But also need them for sanity??? Unclear

THIS IS JUST HOW I FEEL. They’re totally not worth it in terms of the weight gain, and after I have one, I’m always like, “But did I really even need that?”

But also, do I? Do I actually? Am I only getting through the other days successfully because I know one’s coming?

Someone else please advise! Would love to hear your thoughts, @lchfjourney, @westcoaststartinganew, @losingitinvirginia, @exercisecatsandketo, @ketoway, @fitness-my-way, @lizzielosing, & @ketoketoketo

(And truly absolutely everyone else; these are just the low-carb/keto people I can think of.)

In Pokemon Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon, the Elite Four members give just over 11k dollars per victory, and the champion a bit more. Using mechanics the game gives you, you can make every e4 run worth 360k, or 720k if you happen to have a Pokemon that knows Happy Hour.

Amulet coin doubles earnings, the roto lotto prize money power TRIPLES earnings, and Happy Hour doubles earnings again. They all stack multiplicatively, for a total of 12x prize earning.

commoners-coffee  asked:

How did you know that you were one day going to influence so many people into being as kind as you?

Congratulations on winning (the unanticipated) Second Place!

That is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me about this blog, so thank you!

And truthfully, I didn’t know (nor necessarily believe) I am influencing anyone following to be nice or kind. But if I am, with even just one person, then this has been totally worth it because my personal motto actually is, “Because Nice Matters.” I have a sign above a door that literally has those exact words painted on it (see my bad picture of it).

The world is (to quote MCR) ugly. It needs more kindness. Before my mom passed away last year, sometimes I would walk past her room (she was quite ill with COPD and had very bad back problems), and I would just go in and give her a hug for no reason because I knew she didn’t have a lot of time, and a hug is sometimes all you can give.

So, hug someone you care about from time to time. Listen to a friend rant and try to be sympathetic and helpful. Give that homeless person the $10 in your wallet when you could easily just give them the dollar next to it instead. Pay it forward and don’t expect returns for your niceness. That defeats being nice (just don’t let people walk all over you – you’re nice, not a pushover).

-Mama Odie

On:Lucius Malfoy

Ok so I refuse to believe Lucius Malfoy was a abusive parent/spouse .He was a awful person who made awful choices, and mistreated House elves.

Ok so I don’t think Draco and Narcissa would follow Voldemort if it wasn’t for their love of Lucius.

Narcissa wasn’t a death eater and could have switched sides whenever she wanted and taken Draco with her. It logical that if she truly loved Lucius she would have supported him even if she didn’t agree.

Draco worships his father if he wasn’t a person worthy of his worship Draco wouldn’t worship him. (cuz we all now Draco likes people for 2 reason their worth to him and their usefulness).

(plus he was friends with Snape and Snape wouldn’t take him being abusive)

Lucius Malfoy: Squish Headcannons

  1. He totally either sang or read to Draco when he wasn’t busy.
  2. If Draco had a nightmare after the exceptable age to share a bed with your parents so Lucius just move his and Narcissa’s bed into his room.So he wasn’t alone but it was still proper
  3. Draco learned to not be very emotive at a young age but Lucius was very adept at reading him.
  4. Lucius would brush Narcissa’s hair if she had to do something she didn’t like that day.
  5. He would put up with Draco’s letter about Harry/Potter.
  6. He knew how attached Draco was to Harry long before Draco did.
  7. He is a terrible cover hog.
  8. He likes crappy wizard boy band ( but we’re not supposed to know that).
  9. In private(because pure bloods are all about being proper) him and Narcissa are that gross affectionate couple.

Ok I think I’m done thanks for read I know a lot of people don’t like Lucius.I don’t really either honestly. I just refuse to believe he didn’t love his son and Nacrissa.

anonymous asked:

Listen dude I totally get where you're coming from.. social media can be hard to deal with in general, I mean I had to delete my insta coz my self esteem was just flunkinh every time I opened the app :/ and then on here im contemplating it too.. I mean all you see is these jacked guys 6 ft tall with huge dicks and legs and arms and like i aint nothing like that :( Anyways if it makes you feel any better about yourself, I think you're hot af 😘

Thanks bud. I have a lot of self worth issues and I don’t want to have them anymore. Just getting real sick of it.

What to Wear While You Start Watching the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show But Then Turn It Off Because It Makes You Feel Bad About Yourself

You’re totally inspired by the punk vibes with this year’s Balmain collaboration, so why not let it show how anti-establishment you are by wearing some extremely expensive designer clothes while you watch this huge corporate fashion event on CBS, a giant media network worth billions of dollars? (Below: Helmut Lang pants, Junya Watanabe top, Alexander Wang bralette, Christian Louboutin booties).

Oh, shit. Here comes Alessandra Ambrosio. Suddenly, your exposed belly button doesn’t quite look as great as her exposed belly button. Wait, is that Lais Ribiero? Her proportions are insane! Maybe you should be working out instead of watching this extremely long show. Is that Romee Strijd? Switch into an oversized sweater while you Google what exercises can chisel your jawline AND burn belly fat. This knotted sweater will hide your “pooch” while you go ahead and switch to slides since you’ll never walk that well in heels, anyway. Keep the pants, though, since you’re still paying them off.

This show is so long…Luckily, it’s the PINK portion of the night so the looks are a little more approachable. But…here comes Lais, again. This time in the $1.9 million Fantasy Bra and…fuck this. It’s not too late to go for a jog, is it? 

FAQ

I decided to do an actual post with these. 

1) What program do you use to draw?

Paint Tool SAI and Photoshop.

2) What program do you use to animate?

Digicel Flipbook and Photoshop. I sometimes use SAI to colour in the frames.

3) What brushes do you use in Photoshop?

I bought Kyle T. Webster’s Brush MegaPack. Totally worth it!

4) Do you do requests?

Only when I make a post about it (it happens rarely, when I want to+have time, so don’t hold your breath), but I usually don’t. If you want me to draw something for you, fell free to commission me.

(!) The following is for the rare times I do requests: 

5) Why didn’t you draw my request? Did you see it?

I can’t physically draw all requests, for I have limited time, so I choose the requests I like and draw them.

—–

Notice:

Please ask me permission before using my art for your purposes and don’t edit and sell it.

2

Accountability! Kept my calories under 2000/day this week, but had a splurge over budget on Saturday at Red Lobster. It was very much worth it though. Plus, I think they include all the butter in their calculations, so that probably padded things a bit. I mean, it’s not like I drank ALL the butter that came with my meal.

Sunday marked 50 days of keto. I haven’t been as strict as I’d like (there’s been a pint of halotop and some sugar free chocolate), but I have managed to keep things under 50g / 25g net carb a day. One week I’d really like to do a strict week of less that 20g total carbs per day. This week is not that week though.

I really want to try and keep keto over thanksgiving. 4 days home with family sounds like a set-up for failure, but I really want to give it my best try. Going home always triggers my binge eating and I really want to focus on staying restrained and in ketosis. Even if I have to fast / make a special shopping trip, I want to make it work.

anonymous asked:

You got an ask a while ago about how s2 Fitz was probably so frustrated because he couldn't pass as alltistic anymore and I propose an addition: when he tells Jemma that "I am different, I'm trying not to be but I am" he's not just talking about a difference from how he was before but also that he feels he's just inherently different from others and he's trying to act "normal" (I'd bet my shoes that the need to act "normal" got ingrained into his head as a child) but he can't anymore

i totally agree! i think he probably acted very differently from other kids as a child and got bullied by other kids and his dad about it. once he got a little older he started trying to act ‘normal’ so that he wouldn’t get as much of that abuse. so then when he gets the brain injury all his fears come back that his worth (and safety) is tied to how normal he can act. and then the one person he never worried about that with is gone and he thinks he’s why. and he’s put in the super shitty position of not only having to try to hide his differentness, but not being able to hide it even if he tried. no wonder it was such a hard time for him, on top of all the new disability stuff. my poor son :( 

Can you believe that the season finale of shadowhunters ended clace incest, gave ace!raphael that was well deserved, showed victors background, gave us jimon!, and madzie protecting both her fathers, isabelle coming to her senses, downworlders trusting each other with their lives, and above all magnus bane and alec lightwood proclaiming their love for each other through words, hugs and passionate kisses. 

what a beautiful night.