Who is always on his phone?
V. Who is the worst texter?
Jimin. Favorite American fast food?
Wings and French fries. Who complains the most when they go out to eat?
Suga. Favorite clothing label?
Supreme, Gucci, Bape, Opening Ceremony. Which country do you miss the most (from touring)?
We miss every city we’ve been to on tour. Favorite (or most memorable) moment from your last tour?
When we were touring in Brazil, hundreds of fans were dancing with us behind the seats like a flashmob. It was awesome. Who always looks the best, no matter what?
Jin, for sure. Who has the best laugh?
Jungkook. Favorite song to perform?
FIRE and Save Me.
In early July a close friend of mine asked me to make him a dress for a friend’s upcoming wedding. As a huge contra dance fan and a resident near Asheville, NC, it was imperative to him that the skirt be extremely full, ready for a long contra set and many spins. The voluminous pleated skirt, mixed with his desire for a traditional style western shirt made this design an irresistible challenge.
He bought the fabrics and fasteners he wanted, sent them to me, and I got to work. Luckily Julian happens to be almost the exact same size and isn’t opposed to wearing the occasional dress, so he stood in as my fit model. A few days and many pleats later and the dress was finished, complete with paisley details, brass snaps, some deep pockets, and a bronze belt buckle that Chrome kindly sent my way.
After a quick photo shoot it was shoved into an envelope and sent off to North Carolina, where I have word that it spun the night away at that wedding.
Or that one time Lance decided to live-stream when he really should’ve been resting. The (established) klance YouTuber AU that no one asked for, but you’re all getting. Domestic klance sharing an apartment is my jam, and throwing a little angst in there is a bonus.
I’m actually really happy with this, and if people like it I might do an actual long AU thing with this setting, so feedback is appreciated! For now though, just a one-shot. This is also proof that the best writing for me happens at 3 AM… oops. I hope you enjoy!!
Psst @taylor-tut this is that thing I not-so-discreetly mentioned in my tags, have a wonderful day.
Lance McClain was a rulebreaker in
every way, except for one thing. He believed it was always necessary
to have a routine, and never stray from it. If asked, he’d inform you
that a steady routine was the foundation for a steady life.
Showering every morning, brushing his
teeth every night, thinking of a cheesy one-liner for Keith each day
without fail, the list went on. Little things.
One of his many routines was to
live-stream, always on Sundays. Because who did anything besides sit
at home, definitely not with a hangover, on Sunday?
New videos went up on Wednesdays, but
the carefully edited ones on YouTube and his live-streams were very
different. Many fans even preferred seeing him live, mainly because
he couldn’t stop himself from making bad jokes, and was usually too
lazy to straighten his bedhead.
And they would always ask him to go
bother Keith in the next room, which Lance more often than not was
obliged to do.
So when he woke up late one Sunday
with a killer headache and a stuffy nose, Lance wasn’t about to let
it get in the way of his routine.
He discovered a note from Keith on the
kitchen table that said he’d be out running errands, and Lance
lamented that he hadn’t been awake to tell Keith to get soup. After
shooting him a quick text, the only response Lance got was “You
don’t even like soup.”
Lance chuckled softly, which quickly
led to a series of wet coughs. Clearing his throat, he began to set
up his camera, wrapped himself up in blankets, and started the
“Hey guys,” he said with a small
wave, and winced at how raspy his voice sounded. He sniffled, and
edged the off-screen box of tissues closer to him.
The chat was quickly flooded with
“HELLO”’s and “LANCE!”’s. By now, all the fans knew when he
went live. Lance was, however, surprised to see several inquiries
about his health.
There were quite a few “Are you
okay”’s, and even some “You seem sick”’s, with one of Lance’s
personal favorites being “You look like shit.”
He read off the last comment with a
short laugh. “Thanks, KeiththeKutie05.” Then, as an afterthought,
he added, “Nice name.”
After a short pause of him continuing
to scan the chat, he spoke again. “I’m fine though, just got a cold
or something. Nothing could stop me from live-streaming!”
As the viewers seemed satisfied with
this response, Lance wasn’t surprised to see the usual repetition of
“Where’s Keith?” in the chat. He sighed.
“Mullet Boy is running errands,”
Lance told them, rolling his eyes for effect. “Probably going out
to buy a new pair of fingerless gloves.”
Keith and Lance had been sharing an
apartment for some time now, and the Internet was very invested in
their relationship, or so it seemed. Keith was annoyed by the whole
thing at first, but Lance found it entertaining that his fans seemed
to like Keith better than him. Lance could, admittedly, relate.
Eventually, the accidental publicity
that came with dating a YouTuber inspired Lance to make a collab
channel for them, though Keith never got his own. He insisted that he
was too awkward to film anything by himself, which Lance secretly
Numerous people began telling Lance to
prank Keith when he came back, to which Lance grinned. Playing tricks
on Keith during live-streams had become somewhat of a tradition in
and of itself. “Maybe I will,” Lance tapped his chin
thoughtfully. “You guys got any ideas?”
Lance read through some of the
responses but saw nothing particularly appealing, then perked up at
someone asking when he’d do a video with Hunk again.
“Actually, I got some good news for
you guys,” Lance declared, sneezing into his elbow before
continuing. “Hunk and I are going to be playing videogames on
Pidge’s channel sometime next week, and Hunk has both of us coming
over to his and Shay’s for a baking video. I haven’t decided what we
should do for my part yet. Maybe a Q & A?”
Once again, Lance’s eyes scanned
through the suggestions until his eyes snagged on one he liked.
“Cards Against Humanity, huh? With YouTube’s shitty new rules it
could get demonetized, but I do love that game, so why not? I’m
positive Pidge owns it, and I can tell them to bring it over. Maybe I
can even convince Keith to play with us.”
Lance couldn’t help but smile at the
enthusiastic response that got.
“I think I’m going to get myself
some more coffee,” Lance decided, looking down at the empty mug
resting on a coaster. “Last night Keith made me watch this really
scary movie, so I naturally had trouble falling asleep. Gotta have
coffee to keep myself functioning. Do you guys prefer coffee or tea?
Keith and I are both coffee people, but he likes his black. No sugar
or anything, disgusting if you ask me.”
Lance almost regretted this comment as
a war of opinions on black coffee slowly took over his computer
“Well, anyway, I’m gonna go to the
kitchen real quick. I’d bring my laptop but… I’d probably spill
coffee on it, and we can’t have that.”
Lance stood, and was about to start
towards the next room when his vision abruptly blurred and refocused.
He knew immediately something was wrong.
His legs felt like jelly, and the room
seemed to spin as he took a single step forward. Had he only been
fine when he was sitting? Lance had half the mind to sit right back
down, but his brain was growing muddled, and direction simply didn’t
Lance’s migraine flared abruptly in
intensity, and then suddenly the wood floor was rushing up to meet
him. Everything went dark.
Keith glanced at his phone as he moved
around to the back of the car, where he’d stored the groceries, and
had to repress a fond smile at the Twitter notification on the
screen. Lance was, apparently, live-streaming. Keith thought he might
actually miss his time-slot for once, but he figured by now he should
be used to the Cuban boy’s dedication to routine.
Lance’s channel got some negative
feedback from more ‘sophisticated’ YouTubers for being… all over
the place. A dedicated beauty guru, or PrinceLotor as his channel was
called, had dragged Lance on Twitter on more than one occasion.
Lance was anything but consistent when
it came to videos. He did whatever he felt like doing that week, and
the fans loved it. Sometimes he played songs on his guitar, sometimes
he did prank-calls. He would film Q&A’s, or tell stories about
all the interesting stuff that happened in his life— Lance’s bad
luck was rather famous. He recommended TV shows, did hauls of what he
got for holidays, vlogged on occasion when he went to stores, you
But Lance’s favorite thing to do were
Hunk, an incredibly smart engineer,
had a baking channel as a hobby, and Lance was his favorite
Pidge was a newer gaming channel, but
their obsession with theorizing about the game’s lore while playing
and busting other fan theories made them grow in popularity quickly.
For two player games, Lance was ideal.
Allura was an extremely popular beauty
channel, and Lance let her give him makeovers whenever she wanted to.
Shiro could use extra actors in his short films.
And Keith… well, the two of them had
a channel together that had no pattern whatsoever, much to Lance’s
dislike. Absolutely spontaneous and random, usually doing things by
popular fan request, like dancing or karaoke. And uploads were by no
Keith was surprised at how much he had
started to enjoy it. Lance had been telling him he should start an
art channel, with animations and speedpaints and the like, and Keith
wasn’t… that opposed to the idea. It could be a useful
source of income, to help with all the debt he would come into after
graduating college. But he’d never tell Lance.
Without thinking too much of it, Keith
swiped right across his screen, taking him to Lance’s tweet about the
live-stream in order to like it. He was about to close his phone
again and begin taking groceries up to their apartment when his eyes
snagged on something odd.
Lots of the replies to Lance’s tweet
mentioned him, particularly the recent ones, even tagging him in it.
Keith couldn’t fathom why they would be talking about him if he
wasn’t on the stream, unless Lance was complaining about him live
Keith bristled. Lance better not be
still annoyed at him for the movie the last night. Signs
wasn’t scary at all, and not even a real horror movie! Lance
simply stated that ‘he didn’t mess with aliens.’
But when he looked at all the
mentions, Keith felt his irritation give way to confusion, and then
“KEITH GET TO UR APARTMENT”, “YOU
BETTER GO CHECK ON LANCE”, “HOLY SHIT HES COLLAPSED KEITH HURRY
YA ASS UP”, and the one that really sent Keith reeling “UH GUYS
IS IT JUST ME OR DID WE WITNESS LANCE’S DEATH ON CAMERA?”
Keith slammed the trunk, all groceries
forgotten as he sprinted into the apartment building and ran for the
stairs. They only lived on the third floor, and he was not about to
wait for the slow, crowded elevator.
He fumbled to fit his key in the lock
and opened the door to the living room, only to spot the
live-streaming set up, with no Lance. Keith rushed forward, but drew
up short when he realized that Lance was in fact passed out on the
floor in front of the couch.
“Oh my god— Lance!” Keith sank
down beside him, turning his boyfriend over. “Lance, are you okay?
Can you hear me?”
Lance’s eyes opened slowly, and Keith
felt relief flood his system, despite the uncharacteristically pale
skin. “K-Keith? Wha… I thought you were shopping?”
“I’m back,” Keith answered
shortly, wincing as he pressed a hand onto Lance’s forehead. “Jeez,
you’re on fire. Why didn’t you tell me you were this sick?!”
“Are you a fire?” Lance mumbled
under his breath, and Keith furrowed his brows in confusion.
“What? No, Lance, I was saying you
have a fever.”
“Because you’re hot and I want
s'more,” Lance continued, as if he hadn’t heard him at all. Keith
was suddenly painfully aware that the live-stream was still going,
and that his face was even more flushed than Lance’s, and not because
of a fever.
Keith glanced at the computer sitting
on the coffee table briefly, noting that most of the chat was full of
random keyboard smashing. He smiled apologetically. “At least he’s
conscious,” he shrugged, hoisting Lance up off the floor and
propping one of his arm’s around Keith’s shoulder. “I’m going to
take this idiot to the hospital, he’s way too hot.”
“So you finally admitted it,”
Lance’s voice was barely audible, and Keith glanced back down to see
him grinning up at Keith tiredly.
“I meant your temperature, dumbass.
Next time, tell me when you’re not feeling well.”
Okay so I’m one of those fans who feels consistently that they don’t really contribute to the amazing art and gifs that enriches my fandom experience. Im hopeless at art and can’t make any type of gif. But I am a classically trained ballerina. Recently I was giving a choreography project at ballet, this project became this piece, inspired by ‘Knights of Cydonia’ from Marisha’s playlist. This dance represents Keyleth’s journey from naive to voice of her people.
Thanks for watching, Critters
(Excuse the camera work, my mom isnt the best at filming)
Hi, I’m a female Chinese adoptee who spent more time with a foster mother than in the orphanage. I was adopted before I was half a year old by a white American single mother, and later raised by two white American parents once she married. I have a younger sister who is also adopted from China, but we aren’t blood related at all (yes people do ask me if we are). I grew up in a largely white portion of the south and went to religious schools with largely white populations (My mom did not adopt me from some misguided Christian white supremacist stance of saving me). I’m currently getting a degree in theater and film, so well thought out representation and minority stories are very important to me. Every adoption story is different, and as far as I can find, you only have the one POC profile on Chinese adoption and I wanted to give my point of view for variation.
I want to preface this by saying that my adoption has had a big impact on my life, but it is not my identity, and the impact it’s had isn’t something that I was consciously thinking about as it happened. It’s mainly as I’ve gotten older and looked back that I’ve realized how it has impacted certain aspects of my life. Growing up, my adoption isn’t something that was always on my mind, and it’s only through trying to better understand myself and who I identify as that I’ve come to analyze it more. Also sorry this is super long, I just wanted to be thorough.
Again, not something I consciously thought about when I was younger. Contrary to the popular stereotypes and fixations about Asian eyes, the shape of my eyes wasn’t something I thought about. What I was self-conscious about when I was a kid was how “flat” my face was, especially my nose. I felt like I didn’t have any definition, and because I didn’t grow up seeing many other Asian people or POC for that matter, I didn’t understand that different races had different facial structures. I just internally accepted that the caucasian facial structure was how people were supposed to look. I’ve since accepted the way I look, and while I don’t think I’m the hottest chick out there, I like the way I look.
When I was young, my mother enrolled me in Mandarin Classes and Chinese Culture classes/camps designed for Chinese adoptees to help me connect to my native culture and to surround me with other people like me. At one point I was even enrolled in a Chinese Fan Dance class if I remember correctly. I’m sure I had fun with some of them, just as I’m sure my attention span was short when I was a kid and that I got bored quickly. I didn’t have a problem with them at the time, but looking back I do remember feeling mildly annoyed with going to the events specifically for adopted kids because if felt like people just assumed we’d be friends because off of us shared the adoptee experience. I get that same feeling of annoyance when people to this day tell me “Oh, so and so is adopted from China too! You’d like her,” because I personally resent the idea that people assume my adoption is my identity and that alone is enough for me to connect with someone.
I have always identified as a Chinese-American. My parents were always very honest with me about my adoption for as long as I can remember, so I was always somewhat aware that I was different. That being said, growing up surrounded by white people meant that the people I identified with where white, and there was a time in middle school where a teacher mentioned something about me being different in regards to my race (we were talking about casting for the school play). For a good 5 minutes I was confused about what she meant until I remembered that I was Chinese and not white like everyone else. That’s a moment that’s stuck with me throughout my life and I’ve always been a little ashamed of forgetting myself.
Recently I was asked if I identify as an immigrant, and I didn’t know how to answer. Technically I am one. At one point I had a green card and my mother had to fill out paperwork to make me a US citizen, so I don’t feel like I wasn’t an immigrant, but I also don’t identify with the typical image of immigrants. My story of finding my place in America isn’t the typical story of POC immigrants so I don’t necessarily feel solidarity with them.
Within Asian Americans’, there’s been a stereotype about them being too Asian, but not Asian enough which is something I’ve also struggled with on both sides. In high school when I mispronounced pho, I was accused of being a “bad Asian” by a white friend, but when I was talking diversity politics with a teacher, my point of view was dismissed because she knew I was adopted so I was “basically white anyway.” While I do try to defer to the point of view of Asian immigrants and descendants of immigrants when it comes to certain topics and experiences, I also think it’s important for people to understand that when I interact with the majority of people, I am treated as an Asian woman. I live life as an Asian woman, not a white woman. Alternatively, because I grew up in such a white area, I admit that I grew up with a lot of internalized racism and have found myself judging mixed race Asians for the same thing from time to time though I am actively trying to unlearn that habit.
Honestly, as I get older and try to understand who I am more, the more confused I get over my identity. It’s still something I’m working to understand.
Outside of the Mandarin classes I went to briefly as a kid, I also took 3 semesters of Mandarin in college to fulfill my language requirement. I did actively choose to take Mandarin because I thought it was important for me to learn, not because of my culture, but because as an aspiring Chinese American actress, many breakdowns for roles require a knowledge of fluent Mandarin. I am not fluent. I fulfilled my requirement and haven’t pursued it any further as of yet. I might try again in the future.
Since turning roughly 18, whenever I go places with my parents, we’re typically asked if we want to split the check, but if my younger sister is with us, no one asks. I don’t know if it qualifies as a struggle, but it’s something I’ve noticed that biological parents and children don’t go through as much. I’ve also come to explain that I’m adopted when I’m talking about my childhood or my past. I do it partially to give context to whatever story I’m about to tell or for whatever I’m explaining. Ex: I’ve had to explain my background during a workshop when I wrote a paper on representation in media for Asian Americans because the people reading the paper didn’t know I was Asian American simply from the context of the personal experiences I presented in the paper and were guessing my race off of my white sounding name. I’ve also had to explain my background when another Asian American commented repeatedly that I “sound so white.” I’m also very open about the fact that I’m adopted if people ask because it’s not something I’m ashamed of, and I want to normalize the idea of adoption.
When I was only a couple years old there was a girl who made fun of me for being adopted. It’s one of my mom’s favorite stories, because rather than letting the girl get to me, I said something snarky in return, but I’m assuming that’s why I try to normalize the idea of adoption, because being adopted doesn’t make me any less of a person than someone who is still with their biological parents.
I also witnessed a lot of the Asian eye jokes, but curiously enough they were never directed at me. I guess that says something about the kind of environment I lived in, because when I said something to a boy drawing an “Asian smiley face” he looked stunned and was surprised that I was Asian. I guess this instance doesn’t have as much to do with adoption but is more of a comment on the stereotype about how Asians are supposed to look distorting the fact that we actually look like regular human beings and not caricatures.
Dating and Relationships and Home/Family Life/Friendships
I’m putting these two in the same category because my abandonment issues have had a similar impact on them. As a kid, I always hated leaving when we were visiting my out of state grandmother or whenever my mom would go on a work trip. I would cry and fuss, and even as an adult, I hate saying goodbye for a long period of time. Intellectually, I know I’ll see these people again, but emotionally I worry about what if? I also get really scared and start tearing up if my parents are late coming to pick me up from the airport when I come to visit. I worry about being left alone. And I want to emphasize that this isn’t a conscious, “Oh, I’m adopted, I’m worried I’m going to be abandoned again” type thing. So much of these feelings are internalized and subconscious. It’s just that fear of never seeing someone you care about again, and even though I’m a logical person who knows that they’re just late, I can’t override that fear.
I have never had a romantic relationship and I have a few close friends, but I’m not the life of the party. I’ve always been careful about forming connections with people and have even actively resisted it when I was younger and was going to camps or doing something where I’d only see these people for a small amount of time. I had the mentality of “It’s not worth it because I’ll never see them again,” and that’s another thing I’m trying to overcome, because I still don’t like making connections if I know they’re not going to last. For similar reasons, I’m also very bad at vocalizing my affections and feelings towards people. I’ve never liked letting people close, and there was a time when I was a teen where I even distanced myself from my family, and that’s a bridge I’m still trying to repair to this day.
My family has always been understanding of the fact that I’m dealing with a lot when it comes to understanding my adoption and my identity, but there are also some things that they don’t understand and it can be hard to talk to them about things like my cultural identity and growing up around tons of micro-aggressions that they’ve never had to deal with.
The idea of who my real parents are. The idea of one set of parents being more valid than the other just seems fucked up to me, especially when it’s been posed to me as “So if they tell you to do something, do you ever just say, ‘No, you’re not my real parents, you can’t tell me what to do.’” My adopted parents are still my parents. I also think of my biological parents as my parents. I have never hated or resented my biological parents for giving me up nor have I ever used my adoptee status as an excuse to act out towards my adopted parents. While I do know about the One Child Policy, I don’t know the specific circumstances surrounding why I was given up for adoption. I don’t see the point in being angry about it without knowing the whole story, and I’ve come to terms with the fact that I may never know the whole story.
I also don’t feel particularly grateful towards my adopted parents or like I owe them anything for adopting me. Don’t get me wrong, I still love them, but I’m not actively trying to repay them for adopting me. I don’t owe them my life, they’re just my family.
I had a lot of self-esteem issues growing up, and they still persist today. They aren’t something I linked back to my abandonment issues until I sat down and talked to a therapist. I’ve always been a perfectionist to the point where I was never happy with anything I did, unless it was perfect. I literally never felt good enough. Part of the reason I distanced myself from my family is because I didn’t want to be a bother. Intellectually I knew I wasn’t going to be abandoned again, but I still felt like I had to be as good as I could possibly be to make sure. This is another one of those things that was never consciously thought about, it’s just how things were. I didn’t feel like I or whatever issues I was having was worth the trouble of bothering people, especially my parents, so I just didn’t, and had a habit of keeping a lot of things bottled up inside without telling anyone*. It’s another thing I’m also currently working to better my perception of myself.
*Just because I was trying to be a good kid and didn’t vocalize affection much does not act as an excuse for writing a submissive, emotionally stunted stereotype of a Chinese Adoptee. I am also snarky and sarcastic and opinionated and outgoing with my friends.
Things I’d like to see less of
Stop using adoptees in the abortion argument in general, especially if you don’t understand the adoption process or the issues adoptees face. Stop asking me to choose who my real parents are. It also bothers me the way people romanticize adoption, even if it’s people in various fandoms goofing around. People who adopt are not saints. Fandoms who make light of adoption and squee about wanting to adopt a character or wanting one character to adopt another makes light of a whole situation. Adoption is a great thing. It’s great for kids without families to get a family, but it’s also a painful thing for the kid, because a kid needing to be adopted means that they’ve also lost a family at a young age. Please be sensitive of that. Don’t romanticize adoption. People trying to empathize with those internalized feelings of abandonment and mistrust when they don’t have the same or similar experiences. Other people are allowed to feel those things, but please understand that the degree of what we feel is immense. From a personal perspective, when people try to do that, it feels like they’re making light of what I feel.
Things I’d like to see more of
Just normalizing the idea of adoption and understanding the good and the bad. Adoption stories in media that don’t hinge on the angsty, rebellious adoptee being angry at their adoptive parents. Stories that give adoptees identities outside of their being adopted. Understand that all adoptees are not the same. We all have different experiences based on race, religion, the region we’ve been adopted into, the kind of parents we have. There are so many variables that make up who we are.