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#I Got No Where Else To Go (Mayo Aesthetic)

aceofspadegrass · 3 years

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Now It's an Entire Swap

Characters: Niragi Suguru, Chishiya Shuntaro, Kuina Hikari, Mira Kano (Briefly), Hatter, Morizono Aguni

Genre: Crack. Somehow even worse (better?) than the last one. They're really going for it now.

1.4k words

AKA Part 2 of Hair Day. It's just gotten way more weirder than ever, and it was just on my mind the entire time. Just.... ' How far would these two get?'

Well apparently it meant stealing each other's clothes and being them for a day. There were probably a whole lot more interactions I could have done for the day, but alas.

Niragi watches as Chishiya approaches him, carrying a bag in his left hand. Since two days ago, Niragi’s been keeping an eye on the man as Chishiya went around with his old hairstyle, his own still delightfully bleached blond and kept in the same style as Chishiya’s usual hair. People still did double takes upon seeing him, and maybe it held true for Chishiya as well, but Niragi didn’t care what anyone thought of the sudden change. All he cared about was making sure Chishiya didn’t go ahead and re-dye his hair so soon, keeping a careful eye on him.

Sure, it was a little stalkerish, but it was for a good reason.

Chishiya dumps the bag at Niragi’s feet, Niragi looking down to look at the small opening the bag allowed. “ What’s this?”

“ Well if you’re going to steal my hair, I might as well steal your life for a day.” Chishiya briefly explains, and he walks away without any further explanation, Niragi raising an eyebrow. He kneels down and opens the opaque bag some more, his lips curling at the white mass chilling inside.

“ Is this a joke…?” Niragi reaches in and pulls out the outfit, recognizing it as Chishiya’s favourite jacket, or at the very least copy of it, as well as swimming shorts that matched Chishiya’s. Niragi looks back towards where Chishiya had disappeared towards, and scoffs. “ So be it then.”

He puts the clothes back inside the bag and stands up, taking it and heading back up to his room. He starts stripping once he gets inside, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it aside. Next came his shoes and pants, and he pulls out the two articles of clothing back out of the bag. There were sandals included inside, Niragi leaving those for last as he slips on the shorts. They were somehow a perfect fit on him, not at all as small as Niragi was expecting them to be. “ So the mayo man got me accurately fitting clothing, hm?” Niragi pulls on the jacket and quickly retracts his earlier statement, staring at his exposed wrist. Curse him for not bothering to get a proper jacket for him.

Still, Niragi wasn’t about to back down from the supposed life swap challenge, slipping on the other sleeve and zipping it up. It definitely was just some spare jacket, the bottom barely meeting with the shorts with his arms extending outwards. Niragi drops his arms and tugs the jacket down as far as he could before moving to the sandals and sliding them on. They were also about the correct size, if not just slightly smaller but still manageable. Humming, Niragi walks around to make sure, catching sight of his rifle.

“ Well…. as much as I’d like to….” Niragi sighs, and tucks the thing into his bed. “ If Chishiya wants whatever this weird role-play shit, then he’s gonna get it.”

Niragi spots Chishiya by the militants a few minutes later, a few loudly questioning and gesturing to Chishiya. Or, from the back, a much smaller him. Niragi couldn’t help but snort at the obvious sheer size of his shirt on Chishiya’s much smaller frame, or the fact that Chishiya was toting around a massive super soaker instead of the real deal, as if he was still semi-aware that he could be killed despite taking on Niragi’s aesthetics.

Niragi didn’t think this was much of a punishment for his hair thievery in the slightest, sauntering away. Just his face still kept people from coming too close, and the talk about him was near pleasurable for him. His reputation continues to precede him at least.

“ Hey! You, slow down, geez-“ A female voice catches Niragi’s attention, and he turns his head to see that lady Chishiya was occasionally by every so often, although Niragi didn’t bother with her too much, down to her name. She catches up to him, her eyes quickly scanning him before she lets out a sigh. “ I really can’t believe you agreed.”

“ Yeah? What’s it to you, huh?”

The lady folds her arms, letting out a sigh and chews on the stick hanging out of her mouth for a bit. Niragi was about to turn and leave her there when her hand reaches out and grabs him by the shoulder, Niragi whipping around and slapping the hand off. She recoils, but otherwise was unperturbed, looking at him with a hint of displeasure. “ Okay listen. Chishiya told me that since you stole his hair he was going to….. apparently take over a day of just being you, saying that…” She pauses. “ Well, that’s not important right now. What is important is to ’sell’ this, is that I have to follow you.”

Niragi blinks, raising his eyebrow and unconsciously flicking his tongue across his lips, leaning onto one leg. “ Why, does the toilet bowl not trust me?”

“ I wouldn’t trust you with a barrel of green tea left in your care, so you can figure out what Chishiya’s opinion is. Look, we can do this peacefully, no violence required, okay?” She extends a hand as if it were a peace offering, Niragi staring down at the hand.

“ Yeah, uh….. no. I do what I want, cinnamon stick.” He turns and walks away, said cinnamon stick’s footsteps coming up behind him.

“ Rude, but I really can’t expect anything else from you, wig snatcher.”

Niragi ignores her, although he didn’t bother to push her away today either. She was at least mindful of their positions, and kept her distance as she should.

It wasn’t long until she invited him to at least watch a movie with her, Niragi agreeing since he was technically absolved from doing his patrols for the day.

( Niragi wasn’t allowed to in any way touch her, and the one time he tried he got his toes crushed by her foot, so he had to behave the rest of the movie. Not worth it, in his opinion.)

Even at the meeting nobody really mentioned the sudden switch, although Niragi swore he thought he saw Mira’s smile become a little wider, and her eyes glitter in interest at the two. Hatter had to do a double take at the two, before sidetracking into what they were up to this time. Chishiya, surprisingly enough, just sticks his tongue out at Hatter like Niragi would’ve done, and Niragi had to suppress a laugh when he caught a glimpse of a stain on Chishiya’s tongue.

“ Oh my fucking goodness, did you seriously eat a fruit roll-up with those tongue tattoos before this?!” Niragi howls, bursting into uncontrolled laughter. Chishiya slips his tongue back in and just smirks. Aguni shakes his head slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose, Hatter just watching and waiting with amusement.

It takes a while before Niragi finally reins in his laugh, and that was only because one of Hatter’s pretty boy kimono men handed him water to calm the fuck down. Hatter grins, clapping his hands together.

“ Well, either way, this is an absolute rollercoaster that we’re all seeing today, aren’t we. One day I’m greeted with a hair swap, and the next you two are becoming each other! Aren’t you just… two peas in a pod?”

“ Tch, no. I’d rather burn.”

Chishiya glances at Niragi for a second, his lips curling ever so slightly in disgust. “ Not to be rude, but I decline that as well. I’d rather be shot instead. This is merely payback.”

“… How though.” Aguni questions. Chishiya turns his attention to the man, and leans back casually.

“ Because it leaves him practically defenceless in order to be me. Me, on the other hand….” Chishiya gestures to the super soaker lain on the table. “ Have temporary access. Even if this is merely a substitute.”

“ I will strangle you in your sleep anyways, you naked chicken nugget.”

Chishiya doesn’t react to the threat, Niragi glaring at him. Hatter looks between the two of them, then smacks his hand against the table a few times to get the meeting back to focus on him.

“ Like I said last time, grab a martini or something you two. Now, as much as I love a good drama and an enemies to lovers trope, we have to get back to real matters-“

Niragi huffs, leaning back slightly as Hatter starts his usual spiel. His glances couldn’t help but look towards Chishiya every so often, just glaring him down. Occasionally he’d lock eyes with him, Niragi smirking and miming random ways that Niragi could murder him with his bare hands.

If anyone else was watching their little act, they certainly didn’t bring it up. At the very least it kept Niragi occupied long enough.

The moment it was done, Hatter simply watches the two leave the meeting with a little more haste than he’s ever seen, and he leans towards Aguni. “ Think they’re gonna fuck it out with a nice martini?”

“…. Beats me.”

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #niragi suguru #chishiya shuntaro #kuina hikari #hatter #takeru danma #mira kano #morizono aguni #sorry kuina you don't even get a name in this #that last interaction sentence is ness' fault you got me thinking about them doing the do #yes somehow hair swap evolved into a whole outfit swap it's just how it progressed #everyone just has to roll with whatever bullshit happens there every day this is tame really-#yes they specifically are wearing each others tops the other pieces are sized up correctly to a point but the shirt and jacket? Swapped.#yes chishiya ate one of those candies that stained his tongue just to mock niragi's tongue piercing #he also stuck rhinestones on his face I just don't mention them

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cashforgoldsblog · 3 years

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1) A brief history of Gold.

a. Gold has been valued by humans since before ancient Egypt rose to greatness. Since gold appears in nature in its native state at a high level of purity, early humans would find gold nuggets in streams or in other deposits. Gold flakes have been found inside caves where prehistoric drawings adorn the walls suggesting that early humans discovered gold and valued it for its aesthetic qualities. Gold is a very noble metal. This means that gold can easily be formed by striking it into shapes or plates which then can be carved or turned into coins. Alexander the Great is said to have funded his campaigns using gold that his troops mined along the way in his travels. Ancient Egyptians covered sarcophagus and other items with gold to praise their gods and pharaohs. Fast forward to modern times and we are using gold not only for jewelry and coins, but for electronics, surgical implants, and other uses which exploit gold’s heat and electrical conductivity. 2) Gold Sources, Purity and Measurement.a. Gold can be found in almost every country throughout the world. Gold is either found in alluvial deposits which are caused by rivers exposing gold deposits or in mining operations where large quantities of earth are moved and processed to extract gold. Gold naturally occurs in purities of 85% or higher. Gold is heavier than other minerals found around it and therefore it is easy to separate using water sluices. Once gold is separated from the minerals which surround it, it is refined using either a chemical method in which gold is dissolved in a solution called aqua regia, which is a strong acid solution, or it is melted along with mercury which causes impurities to concentrate in a layer of the melted gold which is called slag. Once the slag is removed, gold has been refined to 100% pure.b. Gold is a very easy metal to alloy. This means it can be combined with other metals to achieve production goals which would make a harder metal or a metal of a different color. For example gold is alloyed with copper to make rose gold and with tin and silver to make white gold. Aside from this gold is also dissolved in solutions to create electroplating applications. These applications allow gold to be plated onto wire and for other industrial purposes.c. In jewelry gold purity is defined by Karat. 24 karat gold is defined as gold which has 24 out of 24 parts made of pure gold. Pure gold is very soft and seldom used for jewelry as it is easy to bend and wears and scratches way too quickly. 18 karat gold, or gold which has 18 parts pure gold and 6 parts of something else, is commonly used to make high end jewelry. 14 karat gold or gold that is 14 parts pure gold and 10 parts something else, is also used to make jewelry as it is harder and more durable than 18 karat gold. Gold is measured in Troy Ounces. The old question what weighs more an ounce of gold or an ounce of feathers is actually a trick question. Gold is measured in Troy Ounces and feathers in Avoirdupois Ounces. There are 31.1 grams in a Troy Ounce and 28.35 grams in an avoirdupois ounce. Therefore the Troy ounce, the ounce of gold, is heavier than the avoirdupois ounce. Conversely, the troy pound is lighter than the avoirdupois pound. Thus making the pound of feathers heavier than the pound of gold. 3) Gold Stamps and Identification.a. The Federal Trade Commission regulates the trade of precious metals and directs manufacturers on how to stamp and identify gold. In the United States an item must be 10 Karat Gold or higher karat to be called gold. Also, gold that is plated must be plated with 10 karat gold or better to be called gold plated. Gold jewelry fineness is identified by a stamp which tell you how pure the gold used in the piece is. 417 or 41.7 percent gold is 10 karat gold. 585 or 58.5 percent gold is 14 karat gold. 750 or 75 percent gold is 18 karat gold. Normally a piece is either stamped with a three digit number or the actual karat content, such as 14K. Jewelry which is gold plated or gold filled is stamped with a GP or GF after the karat of the gold. For example 18 KGF, denoting that this piece of jewelry was manufactured using 18 Karat Gold Filled. Gold filled jewelry is jewelry manufactured using a solid layer of gold which has been mechanically bonded to a base material such as silver or a base metal like pewter. Gold plated (GP) is when an electroplating method is used to deposit a very thin layer of gold onto silver or a base metal. Now you know the process which got your

gold jewelry

to you and how its labeled and what purity and weight means. So, now you need to locate a place in the DC area to

sell gold

. We can give you a fair cash offer for your gold, silver and precious metals!

#cash for gold

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sell-gold-near-me · 3 years

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Gold Buyers DC Maryland Virginia

We Buy Gold Silver DC Maryland Virginia

If you want to sell your jewelry but you don't know where to go, call us at Cash for Gold DC MD VA, where you'll get a fair cash offer for your precious metals!

If you have unwanted jewelry, diamonds, fine watches, or luxury handbags, why not sell them for cash? Call us today!

Get Cash Now for Your Valuables

Gold

Fine watches

Diamonds

Jewelry

Silver

Coins

Precious Metals

Collectibles

Luxury Handbags

Cash for Gold in DC MD VA

1) A brief history of Gold.

2) Gold Sources, Purity and Measurement.

a. Gold can be found in almost every country throughout the world. Gold is either found in alluvial deposits which are caused by rivers exposing gold deposits or in mining operations where large quantities of earth are moved and processed to extract gold. Gold naturally occurs in purities of 85% or higher. Gold is heavier than other minerals found around it and therefore it is easy to separate using water sluices. Once gold is separated from the minerals which surround it, it is refined using either a chemical method in which gold is dissolved in a solution called aqua regia, which is a strong acid solution, or it is melted along with mercury which causes impurities to concentrate in a layer of the melted gold which is called slag. Once the slag is removed, gold has been refined to 100% pure.

b. Gold is a very easy metal to alloy. This means it can be combined with other metals to achieve production goals which would make a harder metal or a metal of a different color. For example gold is alloyed with copper to make rose gold and with tin and silver to make white gold. Aside from this gold is also dissolved in solutions to create electroplating applications. These applications allow gold to be plated onto wire and for other industrial purposes.

c. In jewelry gold purity is defined by Karat. 24 karat gold is defined as gold which has 24 out of 24 parts made of pure gold. Pure gold is very soft and seldom used for jewelry as it is easy to bend and wears and scratches way too quickly. 18 karat gold, or gold which has 18 parts pure gold and 6 parts of something else, is commonly used to make high end jewelry. 14 karat gold or gold that is 14 parts pure gold and 10 parts something else, is also used to make jewelry as it is harder and more durable than 18 karat gold. Gold is measured in Troy Ounces. The old question what weighs more an ounce of gold or an ounce of feathers is actually a trick question. Gold is measured in Troy Ounces and feathers in Avoirdupois Ounces. There are 31.1 grams in a Troy Ounce and 28.35 grams in an avoirdupois ounce. Therefore the Troy ounce, the ounce of gold, is heavier than the avoirdupois ounce. Conversely, the troy pound is lighter than the avoirdupois pound. Thus making the pound of feathers heavier than the pound of gold.

3) Gold Stamps and Identification.

a. The Federal Trade Commission regulates the trade of precious metals and directs manufacturers on how to stamp and identify gold. In the United States an item must be 10 Karat Gold or higher karat to be called gold. Also, gold that is plated must be plated with 10 karat gold or better to be called gold plated. Gold jewelry fineness is identified by a stamp which tell you how pure the gold used in the piece is. 417 or 41.7 percent gold is 10 karat gold. 585 or 58.5 percent gold is 14 karat gold. 750 or 75 percent gold is 18 karat gold. Normally a piece is either stamped with a three digit number or the actual karat content, such as 14K. Jewelry which is gold plated or gold filled is stamped with a GP or GF after the karat of the gold. For example 18 KGF, denoting that this piece of jewelry was manufactured using 18 Karat Gold Filled. Gold filled jewelry is jewelry manufactured using a solid layer of gold which has been mechanically bonded to a base material such as silver or a base metal like pewter. Gold plated (GP) is when an electroplating method is used to deposit a very thin layer of gold onto silver or a base metal.

Now you know the process which got your gold jewelry to you and how its labeled and what purity and weight means. So, now you need to locate a place in the DC area to sell gold. We can give you a fair cash offer for your gold, silver and precious metals!

#cash for gold #cash for gold near me #sell gold near me

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nero-neptune · 3 years

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tag game hehe :)

I was tagged by @lydsmartin

1. what is the color of your hairbrush? pink denman brush 2. name a food you never eat. papayas are the worst! or anything with mayo/ketchup 3. are you typically too warm or too cold? i have anemia so i tend to be cold all the time. even my fingernails turn blue if the temperature drops really low really quick 4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? making beignet dough! (i’m princess tiana for halloween) 5. what’s your favorite candy bar? it is a hard tie between twix and the cookie and creme hershey bar 6. have you ever been to a professional sports game? i went to an atl braves game at the original stadium when i was....really really young. the most significant part of it was that it had fireworks at the end, but its lasting impact is that baseball is no contest my fav sport 7. what is the last thing you said out loud? "we can watch the other halloween episode of the office, and then we’re getting apple cider” 8. what is your favorite ice cream? COFFEE! and when it’s coffee with chocolate pieces in it, even better! 9. what was the last thing you had to drink? COFFEE! 10. do you like your wallet? don’t have a wallet. i’m all pockets and it will for sure be my downfall 11. what is the last thing you ate? a chocolate chip poptart 12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? i probably get new clothes three to five times a year and that number has dropped to zero this year. so, no 13. what’s the last sporting event you watched? i caught a glimpse of a kansas city chiefs game that one of my cousins plays in. which is cool, but i don’t care for football 14. what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? buttery movie theater popcorn. better when there’s free refills 15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? i texted a picture of my costume to one of my friends from college (she and her girlfriend where dressed as a captain and first mate) 16. ever been camping? probably when i was in elementary school. i hate bugs and camping. that’s a white man’s activity 17. do you take vitamins? i take iron bc of the anemia. i’m not gonna check if that’s a vitamin 18. do you regularly attend a place of worship? ....virtual church. which is unbearable bc i haven’t been a christian for a Few Years Now but i still live here and i’m not gonna out myself as a disbeliever in the holy trinity 19. do you have a tan? idk i’m black. and it’s fall so i’m probably a smidge lighter than the summertime? idk 20. do you prefer chinese or pizza? let’s just say that bbq chicken pizza >>>>> 21. do you drink your soda through a straw? who does that? 22. what color socks do you usually wear? i have a collection of multicolored socks and i’ve lost the other pair to so many, so i’m usually wearing mixmatched colorful socks everyday 23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? only on the interstate when everyone else is above the speed limit 24. what terrifies you? getting kidnapped by a weirdo freak and getting murdered. blame my childhood of no cable but TONS of criminal minds 25. look to your left, what do you see? fireplace 26. what chore do you hate most? sweeping! 27. what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? some margot robbie interview which shook me to the core bc i didn’t know she was australian before that 28. what’s your favorite soda? plain coke. but that new lymonade sprite is getting up there 29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? we are in a pandemic. drive thru, but rarely anyway 30. what’s your favorite number? 42. if you know, you know 31. who’s the last person you talked to? my sister 32. favorite meat? steak 33. last song you listened to? blue moon by the marcels! i helped my sister with a halloween playlist and i love an american werewolf in london. (although, as i’m writing this, the song changed to ‘i put a spell on you’ by ccr) 34. last book you read? art museum libraries and librarianship by joan benedetti bc it was a gift from my last internship and i want to learn more about the field i'm tryna enter lol 35. favorite day of the week? saturday 36. can you say the alphabet backwards? probably. i think i memorized it as a kid and now the tune is in my head 37. how do you like your coffee? dark but sweet. i tend to drink decaf bc either caffeine does nothing at all or it makes me tired 38. favorite pair of shoes? at one point, i wore my original burgundy converse Into The Ground (they got holes and were falling apart but i still wore them bc ~aesthetic~ and they literally fell apart. loved them) 39. time you normally get up? ideally, i would wake up at 10:30am everyday 40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? love that song! and sunsets bc i’m a night owl. 41. how many blankets on your bed? 2 officially but 4 technically bc i use the other 2 as pillows 42. describe your kitchen plates: we got a whole mess of dishes. plain white, beige with brown designs, clear, some powerpuff and hello kitty dishes from when i was a child, burgundy bowls, probably others that we don’t really use anymore but we don’t toss them out either 43. describe your kitchen at the moment: green-brown walls, silver oven and fridge, white cabinets, autumn tablecloth, lots of jackets tossed on the chairs, wet dishes in the strainer(?), cereals on top of the fridge, open windows, an aquarium that’s been empty since the time a fish jumped out and landed to it’s death on the floor back when i was 10 (but we don’t get rid of Anything!) 44. do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? no 45. do you play cards? i LOVE playing speed/spit! i was a demon at that game! 46. what color is your car? well my Parents’ car is dark grey 47. can you change a tire? never had to. no car of my own 48. your favorite state or province? idk georgia’s alright, the politics suck. louisiana’s nice, the politics SUCK. i don’t remember much about either illinois or washington back when my dad worked in both states and i only went to nyc once when i was 7 and was meeting distant family. ideally, i wanna leave the country 49. favorite job you’ve had? i miss working in the university special collections library so bad!

i am tagging anyone who wants to do this bc i don’t want to end up leaving anyone out lmao

#i have another one of these to do so i'll get to that too!#about me

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jimlingss · 5 years

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[2/2] The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit]

CO-WRITTEN WITH @dovechim

Read the spin-off: The Airport Couple: P[ass]enger from Hell

➜ Words: 12k

➜ Genres: Tooth-aching Fluff, Extreme Crack, Smut (dear lord), Pilot!AU

➜ Summary: Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally.

➜ Warnings: handjob, cum all over face (and near the eye which is super dangerous), tons of sexual innuendos, unsafe behaviour on a plane (please don’t do this!! This is a work of fiction only, hence please use discretion if any of you happen to be pilots yourself!)

➜ Notes: this was written with the lovely Addie @dovechim, so if you liked this, please send a sweet message her way as well as mine!! we decided to bring Park Jimin’s potential road rage into the air...lol, also please don’t have sex on a plane if you’re navigating/driving it....anyways, enjoy!

You’re stirred awake by the alarm you set on your phone just four hours ago, and you hurry to turn it off before anyone can complain. The pilot’s lounge is small, and from your position on the upper deck of the double decker bed, you can see a few sleeping bodies stir restlessly. Your schedule says you have an international flight in just over two hours, so you force yourself to climb down as quietly as you can, making your way to the communal bathroom to make yourself presentable to the world. Right now you look like an exhausted witch who’s finally returned to her body after being god knows where, maybe asleep for ten decades. On the way you are accosted by your fellow co pilot, and he has to shake you by the shoulders a few times to really wake you up. “Hey, you checked today’s flight schedule right?” Namjoon says, repeating his question louder when you take a tad too long to answer him, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Yes, yes…what kind of pilot do you think I am? Of course I checked it. I checked it before my nap.” You brush his hand away, almost losing your grip on your makeup bag in the process. “Let me go, I need to remember how to be awake again.” “No, it’s been changed, you see,” Namjoon clarifies. “I was just notified of the change just an hour ago. Apparently there’s been some reshuffling, and we’re not doing today’s flight together anymore.” The revelation really gives you a wake up call, and you open your eyes wide, scrambling for your phone to check if he’s right. But Namjoon spares you from it. “You’re with Park now. I got pushed to the 2.15 flight to Bangkok tomorrow.” Namjoon finally releases his grip on you, giving you a look that you recognise as pity. Oh god. Thinking that today’s flight would be an easy one as Namjoon’s co pilot, you hadn’t spent much time going through the flight plan like you normally would if you were with Jimin. Flying with Namjoon is an absolute pleasure. The man is so pleasant and nice to talk to, and the two of you often have philosophical discussions while 3000 feet in the air. He really makes the time fly by, literally and figuratively. But Park Jimin… that man is a whole other story. Now you can really feel the panic starting to set in, waking you up more effectively than any cup of coffee. In your entire team, everyone, including you, dreads having Park Jimin as a captain. It’s not that he’s incompetent or anything, it’s just his… less than graceful landings and his absolutely filthy mouth, which would have gotten him kicked off the team were he not so talented. In other words, people say that Park Jimin has road rage. Or in this case, air rage. Immediately thrown into a state of panic, you leave Namjoon in the hallway and rush through your bathroom routine, ignoring the buzzing in your back pocket in favour of making sure you get your makeup done in under five minutes flat. You just manage to answer his third call as you step out of the bathrooms, and Park Jimin barks in your ear right away. “Where are you? We need to review the flight data and fuel gauge. I just finished the aircraft check and—” “Good morning to you too,” you grumble as your heels pinch your toes. “I just found out about the shuffle.” “Aren’t you absolutely thrilled to be my co-pilot?” You can almost see Jimin’s gloat from this end of the line. “I think you really lucked out today. We haven’t done a flight together in… how long? I can’t believe I finally get to pilot a plane with my best friend.” “I’m… um… thrilled of course,” you struggle to inject some enthusiasm into your voice. Park Jimin himself is unaware that people call him the Angry Bird. Of course, you want to spare his feelings as much as possible by keeping it from him, but something tells you that your best friend’s ego is far too big to be deflated just like that. The man knows he’s talented, one of the best pilots in the team. Your standard routine is to get a latte and a sandwich from the airport Starbucks since in-flight meals are absolutely revolting. Then, you’ll contact the scheduling department to confirm your flight check in before going through the standard security checks before doing exterior and cock-pit checks. Jimin is already waiting at Starbucks with your drink and a paper bag, and you wonder if he even slept at all for this early morning flight, but you push those thoughts aside when you realise that he isn’t he isn’t alone. He seems to be talking to one of the air crew...or rather, flirting. “You’re so funny, Jimin!” The head stewardess is giggling softly with a white-gloved hand covering her mouth as if she’s trying to be polite and hide her perfect teeth. Flight attendant uniforms are a lot prettier than your standard white shirt, black trouser duo. She’s wearing a royal blue blazer and pencil skirt that emphasizes her feminine figure perfectly, white shirt and a floral scarf tied into a bow around her neck. Meanwhile, you’re stuck in this terrible dress pants and blouse. You’ve never looked good in pants, and let’s face it, dress pants only look good on men. Your blazer isn’t even fitted for heaven’s sake. You’re almost envious at how stunning she looks, attire hugging her hourglass body shape, yet retaining a classy vintage sort of aesthetic. Her dark hair is tucked into neat bun at the back of her head, a rosy hue staining her lips, wearing enough makeup to make you suspect that she has someone to impress. “Am I?” Jimin laughs obnoxiously and you narrow your eyes at how picturesque they look next to each other, like the perfect couple to represent the airline’s advertisements. You resist the urge to frame them with your fingers just for the sake of it. “I didn’t think my story of accidentally flushing my pet goldfish down the toilet would be that funny. My brother was furious when he realised what happened to Sushi.” The head stewardess brushes her hand on his arm, laughter still bubbling at her pretty lips. She’s practically salivating and drooling all over him. The flirting is hardcore and sickening to observe. “No, you just know how to make others laugh that’s all. You’re too sweet.” “Why, thank you.” Jimin is practically beaming like the motherfucking sun from the praise and you roll your eyes, interrupting with a loud ‘ahem’, noisily like you’re choking on a chicken bone. Jimin turns and his brows raise, a bigger and more genuine grin spreading through his face. “______!” “You’re here early,” you comment as you take your drink and sandwich from him, peeking into the bag to confirm that he bought you your favourite: tuna and egg mayo. “I was up early to iron this,” Jimin beams as he puffs up his chest to show off his pilot’s uniform, consisting of a navy blue blazer and white dress shirt, and dress pants to match. He tugs on his tie a bit before smoothing it out with his hands. “Didn’t I iron it well? It took me almost two hours. And I even shined my shoes too!” “It looks great, Jimin! You look so sharp and handsome,” the girl at his side almost coos, and it makes the coffee in your mouth turn bitter. She places an arm on his bicep to get Jimin’s attention even though it’s clear that his questions were directed at you, and Jimin glances at her for a brief second. “Oh, ______, this is Yoonji. She’s flying with us later, and we just happened to run into each other just before you came.” You give her a brief nod. Typically, you don’t really interact with the flight crew until an hour before departure, but you suppose that it wouldn’t hurt to get on more friendly terms with them. Jimin has bragged to you a million times about how he was able to get non-alcoholic champagne delivered to the cockpit just because he was close to a stewardess or two, on the rare occasion even snagging a first class meal of lobster tail. But you prefer to keep to yourself even if it means having to scarf down a lunch of overcooked, dry beef lasagna. Something about the way she’s clinging on to Jimin’s arm and shooting him looks of adoration sets you on edge, and you give Jimin a nudge. “We need to get through customs. How did you already review the flight plan?” You start to walk towards the departures area and Jimin tags along after saying a hasty goodbye. “That’s fast. I thought you only checked the revised schedule an hour ago.” “Oh, I was finishing up another flight simulation when Namjoon texted me to tell me,” Jimin answers, checking his reflection in a passing surface. “So the hardworking me thought I might as well just call up the flight plan and get it done.” You turn to frown at him. “Wait, another flight sim? Isn’t this your third one this week? Park, are you even sleeping anymore? You realise that you have a bed at home that needs to be used right?” Jimin seems to be a little embarrassed to be called out like this, as he rubs the back of his neck. “Yoongi assigned me a couple more. Said it was because I got several complaints about my landing last time.” “Yoongi…? Isn’t that…the name of the flight stewardess just now?” Your first instinct is to jump to his defense. “And was it the early AM flight to Japan last week? Come on… I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” You’re lying. Namjoon had been the one to co pilot that flight with him, and when he got back he’d told you that there was so much turbulence mid-flight that two passengers threw up, and another three had to request for medical attention for their migraines. And the weather had been perfectly fine. His landing had been rough as usual, even though he swears it’s because “the Narita airport has an uneven runway”. Usually on flights with him you try to schedule it so that he does takeoffs and you do landings, but that sometimes it can’t be helped, the shifts don’t rotate that way. If Pilot Jimin has one flaw, it would be rough landings. Everything else he excels at, flight rage aside. “No, no, that was Yoonji, this is Yoongi,” Jimin clarifies with a wave of his hands before sighing melodramatically. “And I know right? My flight hours must have doubled in the last month alone.” Security check is sped up for air crew since you already know the process like the back of your hand, and you and Jimin are through to the airside and on your way to the plane to carry out the cockpit checks. On the way, you review all the information given, from the weather to the number of passengers and the other crew members working on the same flight. And after both you and Jimin work out the flight plan, you file with air traffic control. That’s when your phone rings, right as you’re on your way to meet with the rest of the crew in the crew’s waiting lounge just before you board the plane. The first thing you hear is cackling, so loud that it might as well been a blow horn in your ears. You wince, taking the mobile device off your ear and hoping your eardrums aren’t permanently damaged. Immediately, Jimin looks over with concern, but you don’t give him a chance to ask. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Jin?” You speak sharply and the man continues with his shrill laughs on the other line. “You’re co-piloting for Jimin?!” Seokjin is in absolute hysterics and you can only imagine his punchable face behind your eyelids. “Rest in peace, ______. I hope you survive and if not, I’ll leave a nice note in your obituary. The entire control tower is panicking right now, it’s hilarious.” “What’s he saying?” Jimin invades your personal space, putting his face in front of yours to steal back your attention and also being too curious for his own good. “Nothing. Just that he’s going to be our air traffic control officer and he’s excited since it’s you and he’ll have an easy time,” you manage to lie and Jimin stands straighter, a huge smile plastered across his cheeks, satisfied from the praise. Jin continues laughing chaotically on the other-line. “Oh my god, you are so whipped for him. Why do you even bother trying to save his ego? Do you want some of his ass that bad? I’ll admit, it’s a pretty good fucking ass, plump like two giant pumpkins in a pumpkin patch, but damn dude, even my thirst wouldn’t let me lie that far—” You close your eyes at the very descriptive imagery of your pilot’s ass. No, you can’t be thinking about Park Jimin’s ass right now, not when you’re about to be stuck in a cockpit with him for the next six hours, alone. Damn it, you really don’t need this right now. “I know, right? Jimin's a great captain. He aced all the exams back in the academy and gave me a run for my money.” You give some awkward laughter and Jimin’s practically floating beside you, glowing like a flashlight from the compliments he hears coming out of your mouth. His pink cheeks looks like they’ll burst any second now. “Oh, the weather’s still good? That’s great! Not too cloudy either?” “Look, all I’m saying is that Jimin’s got some...air rage and you seem to be the only one who makes it better. In all the flights I’ve done with him, I must say you have a special talent for containing the Park Rage. ” Jin barely composes himself and he mumbles something about his job. “If I had to guess, I’d think that you had some special way of calming him down, and what calms a man down faster than anything? A blowjob. Or just a simple handy really. Props to you for handling all that equipment so well, a joystick in one hand and-” “KIM SEOKJIN!!!!!!” You yell out his name to stop him from his tirade, all too aware that Jimin could overhear him at any second. Your breath is coming in flustered pants and Jimin is staring at you in concern, even raising a hand to your forehead to check if you have a temperature. You bat his hand away hurriedly to keep some distance in between the two of you as you realise that Seokjin is still rambling. Something about not getting the controls wet… “Seokjin, uh, we have to check in now so talk to you later! Bye!” “-should maybe just swallow to save you the trouble- alright alright, just say safe, okay? That goes for the both of you. Good luck. And for the love of god, don’t crash the plane.” “Wow, that’s some solid advice. Very good. I’ll have to write that down.” Jimin is infamous everywhere he goes and at this point, every airport knows his name. But his turbulence really isn’t that bad. And you’re not just defending him because he’s your best friend and those are your obligated duties. Most passengers don’t mind that it’s a bumpy ride since he always gets to the destination half-an-hour faster. Sure, one time he accidentally left the intercom on the whole flight and everyone heard him cursing and swearing. But it isn’t that terrible. “Ooh, what was all that about?” Your best friend’s eyes glimmer when you hang up the phone. You frown. “What do you mean?” “You and Seokjin….?” Jimin wiggles his brows up and down, even playfully nudging you. But even if he’s joking around, your heart is pierced. But like instead of Cupid aiming its bow at you, he’s stabbing you over and over again with an arrow. You can’t believe Jimin would even insinuate such a thing and be seemingly not affected at all. Goes to show his flirting means nothing. It’s time to get your head out of the gutter. “Oh god, no.” You shake your head. “No, not at all.” “That’s some passionate denial,” he muses. “What about you and the head stewardess?” You raise your own brows, clearing your throat and stealing a glance at him. “Planning to get it on with her? In all honesty, she’s hot. Even I’d smash that, so….” “You mean Yoonji?” Jimin’s lips are pouty and he shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno know. I don’t even know where I’d take her.” “You can’t take her anywhere,” you snort before nudging him this time. “How can you take her on a date if you can’t even drive a car.” It’s ironic, really. Park Jimin can drive a plane, but not a motorized vehicle. You’ll never stop giving him shit for it. One time, you tried to take it upon yourself and teach him how to drive. All you remember about that day is a barrage of swearing, Jimin’s fists pounding against the horn, and a few near miss altercations. After that day, you had to replace the battery for your car’s horn, and designate yourself to be his driver for the rest of your life. “Heyyyy, we can always take the bus.” He nudges you back, making you stumble on your feet as squeaky giggles stream from his mouth. “You wouldn't mind taking the bus with me.” “You’re right, I wouldn’t,” you mutter bitterly, the singleness of your life suddenly hitting you hard. Maybe Jin’s right. Maybe you are too whipped for your friend. Somehow, you suspect Jimin’s innocent smiles and whiny, clingy personality that plagued you for all these years was a tactic to lock you down and keeping you single forever, pinning after something that can never be achieved. Of course. The bastard would do something like that. You really need to go on a date soon….or at least get a decent dicking. “You’re frowning again.” He pokes the scrunch between your brows and you flinch. Jimin laughs and throws an arm around your shoulder, patronizing you as if you were his younger sibling. “Y’know, I still haven’t gotten my thank you yet. I had to stand in a ten minute line to get your favourite sandwich and I even got your favourite coffee. I remembered how many sugars and creams. Tell me I did a good job.” Sometimes, you’re baffled at how shameless he is. “You did a good job,” you state impassively, not even hesitating or bothering to make eye contact with him before taking another sip of your drink. Jimin’s arm suddenly tightens around your neck, making you choke on your coffee and wheeze. He pulls you closer, lips pursed in a tight-line. “I’d more genuine about that, ______,” he whispers lowly in your ear. Immediately, you pull him off of you, gaining some distance and making it easier to breathe. And it’s not because of the near choke hold he had with his biceps around your neck. Your thumb shoots up, a twitching grin lifting on your cheeks, and you inhale. “Wow~ you can stand in a line for ten minutes?! Amazing! You are the strongest. The mightiest. Park Jimin, everybody. You are my biggest role model. I can’t believe you even paid for me?! What a kind hearted man. Truly. The. Best!” Jimin laughs so hard he folds his entire body in half. “That’s not what I mean!” Despite getting embarrassed from your excessive, exaggerated praise and the people around who shoot you two odd looks, you can tell the little shit loves every second of your attention. “C’mon, hurry up.” You tug on his sleeve, dragging him away with your own smile on your face. “Everyone’s waiting for us. We’re going to be late.” As much as Jimin fucks around, what surprises you the most is how serious he can be about his job. It nearly gives you whiplash at the change in personality. From boyish and aggravatingly annoying to being professional and stern. Times like these, you remember why you don’t run for the hills whenever he’s around. Even though you’ve all signed the flight release forms about a thousand times, Jimin still takes the time to read through every word before inking his name at the bottom. And when it’s time to meet the rest of the crew, he greets every single one of them by name, making them feel at ease with his lame jokes. Jimin truly is the mood maker of your team. “Ready for the cock-pit check, co captain?” Jimin shoots you a grin as he pauses at the doorway of the plane, making a grand sweeping gesture as he bows his head. “Ladies first.” “Didn’t think you’d pass up on a chance for an innuendo there,” you give him a wry smile as you make your way into the cockpit, retrieving the flight log and preparing to go through it and make sure that any required inspections and repairs to the aircraft have been duly carried out. “If you wanted to inspect my cock, you could have just said so,” Jimin grins from ear to ear, as if he was just waiting for you to bring it up. He seats himself in the pilot’s position, going through the controls and making sure everything is in working order. You let out a loud groan in response, rolling your eyes at him. “And there goes my last shred of respect for you.” The two of you work in silence for a moment, like a well oiled machine as Jimin goes through the position and the operation of the plane’s systems before recording them meticulously onto the flight log that you pass to him. He inspects your work with a thorough glance before signing at the bottom, and you move on to contacting the control tower for a weather update. “This is KR130 to control tower. KR130 departing from Incheon, Seoul, destination Hong Kong. Estimated departure time is 11.40AM, flight duration 4 hours. Requesting pre departure weather report.” “Control tower to KR130,” Seokjin radios back. “Weather report is slightly cloudy, wind speed is…. Ah you know what, I’m lazy to read this all out. I’ve sent it to your printer and you can read it yourself.” You make sure the radio is off before asking yourself why you even bother radioing him if he’s just going to send you all the information by bluetooth to your in-flight printer anyway. The printer sputters to life behind you, and you spin around on your chair to grab the stacks of papers it spits out to review while Jimin is doing the external walk around to examine the body of the plane. This is another reason why you’ve harboured a secret crush on Jimin for this long — he is considerate beyond belief. By doing most of the external checks, he saves you from having to go out into the cold and brave the winds in your heels. When he returns, his cheeks are red and his nose is pink, his hair windswept as he rubs his hands together rapidly. You have to physically stop yourself from reaching over to pinch his cheeks and rub them in between your own hands, instead you have to keep your thoughts about how cute he looks like this to yourself. “Weather report done?” Jimin blows into his clasped hands as he takes his seat again. “Done, passenger count done too. The plane should be boarding right about now,” you check the time on your watch. Everything seems to be set so far. The check-lists are finished, the inspection for emergency equipment, electrical circuit breakers and the departure briefing has been completed as well. “Hmm, well we’re done with the pre flight checks, wanna go greet the passengers?” Jimin adjusts a few more levers and switches before turning to you. His eyes are sparkling with excitement and you know interacting with travelers was one of Jimin’s favourite parts about the job. You don’t mind it either since it was always interesting to see where everyone was going and for what reason. Often times, you’d like to play games inside your head, guessing if they are traveling for work or personal reasons, or maybe something crazy like a husband running off on a rendezvous with his mistress who’s actually a private investigator hired by the wife. Things get wild in your mind sometimes. “Alright, let’s go.” When you both leave the cockpit, a few first-class passengers have already boarded and Yoonji, the head stewardess is standing with her hands folded together, pretty smile placed on her lips. As passengers enter, she bows from her waist and Jimin nods with his hands behind his back. “Welcome to Asiana Airlines! We hope you enjoy the flight!” “Hello!” Yoonji is so pretty, you can’t stop staring at her. She has clear skin, a perfectly oval face, long lashes, pink cheeks, bright eyes — you think you might actually be falling in love with her. It’s no wonder Jimin’s so smitten with the woman; the one peek she steals at your partner in crime, the shy smile she gives, it has you swooning. “Hello! Good afternoon! Welcome to Asiana Airlines!” The trance you’re in is shattered when Jimin roughly nudges you. “______.” He smiles when he finally has your full attention again. “You never told me what you thought about my ironed uniform. See? I ironed it. It took a lot of work!” “Yes, yes,” you mutter to appease him. “It’s very well done.” “And I packed really well too! TSA didn’t stop me this time. Did you notice?” You’re not sure why he’s being embarrassing directly in front of other people like this. Usually he would bring his attention-starved puppy nature in private, gloat at your praise when it’s just the two of you. You’re about to shove him to the ground, but Yoonji turns around instead with a small giggle. “You’re really cute, Jimin,” she says with a blazing smile. That little shit. Was he really using you to get a compliment from another girl instead?! The audacity! You’re about to give him a piece of his mind, struck with hurt that you were used in such a way, but then Jimin quirks his head to the side, giving the stewardess the most blank expression. “I was asking ______, not you.” She blinks. You whirl your head towards him, brows furrowing, wholly confused. The head stewardess opens her mouth, maybe to apologize for interrupting your private conversation, but then someone staggers onto the plane, pushing up her little reading spectacles and croaking out, “Excuse me, dear. Could I get some help?” “Certainly.” Yoongi steps towards her and helps with the old woman’s luggage. “Oh, thank you. I just can’t seem to find where my seat number is on this ticket. They ought to have it bigger, at least for people like me.” “Let’s see here. You’re in 27C. Let me help you!” The head stewardess kindly leads the old woman down the aisle, swiftly avoiding other passengers who are getting settled and putting the baggage in the overhead bins. When she’s out of earshot distance, you spin towards your captain with a scowl and a harsh whisper. “What was all that about?” He’s unfazed, batting his lashes innocently. “What do you mean?” “I mean you were kind of a jerk just now,” you sigh out with arms crossed. “You were a blatant rude asshole and it came out of nowhere.” “Would you rather me be nice to her then?” Jimin raises his brows, eyeing you carefully. “You want me to flirt with her?” “I-....I mean...I...” You’re stuttering like a damn fool and it takes a deep breath before you get a grip on yourself. “I don’t want you to be a douchebag. Did you get a stroke, dude? Aren’t you trying to win a date with her?” “I never said that. Not once. You said that, but never me.” There’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes and he bumps his shoulder with yours. “Frankly, I don’t want to win a date with anyone, but you.” “Oh my god.” You roll your eyes to the back of your skull. “Don’t even, Park. I’m trying to have a serious conversation here. For once, can you just not be yourself?” Jimin laughs and you decide it’s better to ignore him. Passengers come filing through the door, greeting you with anticipating and nervous smiles. You greet them one by one, wishing them a good flight. But it still doesn’t stop Jimin from being an ass and purposely enjoying how he gets onto your nerves. When you tell someone you like their hair, he asks you what you think of his hair. You’d sucker punch him in the gut to get him to stop, but you’d rather not get filmed and go viral on YouTube with a viral clickbait title: ‘PILOTS FIGHT TO DEATH (GONE WRONG) (GONE SEXUAL) POLICE 9-11 CALLED!’ As you’re trying to peel a clingy Jimin off your side and try your best to disregard his annoying behaviour, another person captures your attention, or rather, the cutest goddamn child you’ve ever seen. The four-year old has a massive Mickey Mouse backpack that’s bigger than his entire torso, larger than his vibrant green overalls and hanging on his shoulders. His black hair is ruffled and sticking up like he hasn’t run a comb through it since yesterday. Yet, despite appearing like he just woke up from a nap, his large eyes are alert, wide and bright. He runs onto the plane and looks in every single direction like a hyperactive hyena ready to run wild. “Hi!” You lean down with a tiny smile. “Hello there…” Deep down inside you pity the stewardesses- they’re going to have a lot on their hands for this flight. As for you, the soundproof, access denied cockpit is the main reason why you can coo over this cute little tyrant. “Is this the plane?!” He’s leaning back to look at the two of you, grinning and amazed as if you’re the biggest heroes in the world. “You bet it is, bud.” Jimin smiles, amused with the child and having his heart strings tugged. As many rude and irritated passengers that you get, once in a wild even getting an unruly one that needs to be removed, there were some travelers that make up for the bad ones. “This is so cool!” The child hops both feet like a rabbit on a sugar-high. His hair flops as he jumps. “Does this plane shoot guns?!” “I wish.” Jimin’s brows furrow slightly in disappointment, though his lips remain upturned “But unfortunately, this isn’t a fighter jet. We’re just a normal commercial plane.” Thank god. You can’t even begin to imagine what would happen if Jimin had access to deadly arsenals in the air. He might just open fire on the unfortunate bird who decided to cross his flight path. “What’s there?” The kid leans over, looking between your legs towards the door. “It’s my cock……..—pit.” Jimin adds on the last syllable a few seconds later and he has a sheepish smile when you glare at him. “It’s where we sit and drive the plane.” The boy hums and nods rapidly, almost breaking his neck doing so. Then his irises glitter as he gazes up at you. “Can I drive the plane?” “You need a licence.” You try to let him down gently, scared of disappointing him. “Give it a few years and with some hard work, maybe you can one day!” He doesn’t seem that broken-hearted over the news and moves onto his next curious question, so straightforward that it nearly gives you whiplash. “What happens if we fall in the sky?” “Uh, hopefully that won’t happen.” “Don’t worry.” Jimin’s hand lifts and he squeezes your shoulder reassuringly while gazing softly at your profile. “If it does, I’ll catch you.” You turn to him with yet another look, unable to discern whether he means you or the kid, but this time you can’t help the tiny smile that graces your features. “We’ll burn and crash together, idiot.” “Hoseok!” The child’s parents finally appear, lugging all their belongings with them. You suppose it must be a family vacation and it seems like the mom needs it. She appears exhausted and you’re sympathetic. “I’m sorry, he’s such a handful.” “Not at all. We’re happy to have him onboard!” And you really mean it. You haven’t seen such an eager passenger in a long while. “This is the first time he’s been on a plane,” his father says and takes Hoseok’s hand while two duffle bags are piled on his shoulders. “Really?” Jimin squats down. “Well guess you’re in for a real surprise, buddy. It’s going to be great!” With Jimin as captain, it’ll be more like a roller coaster. But they don’t need to know that. The two parents wave goodbye, expressing their gratitude for taking the time to indulge in their son’s curiosity. Hoseok waves as well, shouting a shrill ‘see you later’ that has first-class passengers glaring. You watch as they walk down the aisle towards economy class and Jimin gets back on his feet, glancing at your profile before leaning over and whispering in your ear, “You like children?” “The cute ones,” you muse with a shrug. “Well, if you ever want a kid, I can help you with that…” Jimin peeks at you slyly, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards when his pupils glance at your pink lips. “....just make sure you don’t accidentally swallow it.” “Jimin!” Your face heats up immediately at his implication and he relishes in your expression. “Our kid would be cute, right?” Jimin has a cheeky smile. “You gotta admit, they’d be one beautiful baby.” It’s harder and harder to brush him off, and you’re at a loss for words. Just the thought of being in that position, on your knees sucking him off makes it harder to breathe, and it’s not the stale recycled air of the plane that’s affecting you. You have no idea whether he’s joking or not, but he’s never been this direct before. You don’t want to shut him down for fear of him simply laughing at you and telling you to lighten up, so instead of answering you turn away from him and head toward the safety of the cockpit to prepare for takeoff. Once inside the cockpit, you know you’re saved because of the sterile cockpit rules that allow only essential communication between pilot and co-pilot. It only lasts till the plane reaches an altitude of 10,000 feet, but at this point you can’t exactly put a wall between you and Jimin, so that’ll have to do for now. “KR130 to Control Tower, permission to begin taxi,” you say into the radio after you seat yourself on Jimin’s right hand. “Permission granted, begin taxi toward runway 12,” Seokjin’s reply comes back over the air. With clearance from air traffic, you reach for the plane’s intercom and flick it on. “Good morning, this is your co-pilot ______ speaking. A very warm welcome to Asiana Airlines, this is flight KR130 from Seoul, Incheon to Hong Kong, and we thank you for flying with us today. Our flight this morning is an estimated four hours, and we are currently second in line for take-off. We ask that you kindly remain in your seats with the seatbelts fastened, with your seats and the table tray in upright position and secure all baggage in the overhead compartments. Smoking is strictly prohibited aboard this aircraft. Thank you for choosing Asiana Airlines and enjoy your flight.” Jimin flicks a few switches to fire up the engines and double checks the critical airspeed as the plane slowly rumbles into a slow amble toward the active runway. It continues to taxi for a few minutes till the signal for takeoff crackles over the radio. On Seokjin’s cue, you flick on the intercom again. “Cabin crew please arm doors and cross check.” “Cross check complete,” Yoonji replies. “Cabin crew please be seated for takeoff,” you impart your final instructions over the intercom as Jimin begins to rev up the engines and the plane roars to life. The initial thrust of the plane sends a thrill singing through your veins as the whirr of the engines sound in your ears. The plane begins to pick up speed, and you keep an eye on the speed gauge in order to alert Jimin when the critical airspeed is reached. “V1,” you alert him when the plane’s speed reaches the critical value in which the take-off must be performed, and Jimin barely acknowledges you with a nod. Shortly after, you alert him again, “VR.” That’s when he starts to lift the plane’s nose into the air, and the rest of its body follows as it glides into the air seamlessly. You feel the lift of the plane in the pit of your stomach as you monitor the altitude, retracting the flaps and wheels once you reach 400ft. You work in silence for a moment, busying yourself with after-take off and climb checklists while Jimin mans the helm, occasionally communicating with air traffic control and monitoring the atmospheric pressure, making changes should there be a need to. Once the aircraft reaches above an altitude of 10,000 feet, Jimin switches over onto autopilot, reaching over to your side to flick on the intercom, his hands dangerously near your thighs. “Good morning ladies and gentlemen,” he says into the intercom with a charming smile that resonates in the smooth lilt of his voice. “This is your very handsome captain Park Jimin speaking. I’m pleased to welcome you aboard flight KR130, we are currently cruising at an altitude of 30,000 feet at an airspeed of 400 miles an hour. The current local time is 11:53AM, the weather looks good and with the current tailwind on our side we are looking to reach Hong Kong an estimated 15 minutes ahead of schedule. The cabin crew will be coming around in about twenty minutes time to offer you a light snack and beverage, and the inflight movie will begin shortly after that. I'll talk to you again before we reach our destination. Until then, sit back, relax and enjoy the rest of the flight.” You’ve always admired the professional ease with which Park Jimin does his announcements. His voice over the airwaves sounds absolutely melodic and entirely at ease, and the look on his face tells you that it’s one of his favourite parts about flying as well. Unlike you, announcements come easily to him, the words just flow from his lips and he doesn’t seem the least bit nervous at all. Focusing your attention straight ahead to keep yourself from ruminating over the side profile of his pouty lips, you hope and pray for this flight to go by quickly. “Jimin, it looks like there are some dark clouds ahead,” you caution him, frowning as you cross check Seokjin’s weather report once more. Jimin notices the clouds too, and he begins to swear under his breath, and that’s when it all begins. Park Jimin’s famous air rage. “Fucking Kim Seokjin, sunny weather and slight wind? What kind of idiot does he think I am? All those flight plans gone to waste...” He mutters to himself as he begins to make calculations and calibrations to alter the flight path, keeping an eye on the atmospheric pressure at the same time. “At this rate he should be a weatherman instead, that way he’ll at least have a fucking reason to be wrong all the time!!!” You are working furiously to support his calibrations, attempting to radio back to the control tower to get an update on the weather. Jimin grunts under his breath as he tosses the report aside. “Forget it, it’s fucking useless. KIM SEOKJIN YOU PIECE OF SHIT, MOVE THOSE FUCKING CLOUDS NOW OR ELSE!!!!” Make no doubt about it, Park Jimin may seem like a cute angel who can do no evil, but catch him in a mood like this… He is practically roaring in that tiny little cockpit, so much so that you even wince a little at how loud he gets. “Jimin,” you caution him. “It’s just the weather, you know control tower can’t do anything about that-” That’s when you notice the red light of the intercom still flickering, and you gasp, diving toward it to switch it off immediately. Jimin whips his head around to stare at you when he hears your gasp, raising an eyebrow in question, anticipating some sort of problem.

“No, no, everything’s fine,” you wave a hand at him. “It’s just um… you forgot to turn off the intercom.” And that unleashes a whole litany of curses once more, after he makes sure the intercom button is securely turned off, that is. Your temples are throbbing, imagining the uproar that must be occurring in the cabins right about now. Kim Seokjin is going to have a field day when he hears about this. You can already hear his window wiper laughter in your mind. And when you close your eyes you can see the stack of reports waiting to be written about this incident, all courtesy of Mr Park Jimin of course. “Fuck. these. birds!” “What did birds ever do to you?” You’re slightly amused at how cute and small Jimin is when he’s been reduced to a ball of anger, and another part of you has accepted that this is who he is. He’s still a good pilot...with only a quirk or two. “Exist,” he spits out. “And get in my way.” The worst thing that could happen is if he busted a vein at his temple or got a heart attack from high-blood pressure, so you try to placate him. “Calm down, Jimin.” “Don’t tell me to calm down,” he huffs out and shoots you a glare, caught up in his fury to act rationally. “You act as if I’m unreasonably angry.” Trying to reason him is like trying to use logic with a child. “Well, maybe because you are unreasonably angry.” There’s a moment of silence. You heave a sigh of relief, happy that it’s over. It’s not like you like arguing with your best friend and it’s not like you bicker often either. But then— “I am your captain. That’s no way to speak to me.” “Excuse me?!” Your mouth drops and your brows shoot upwards, turning to look at the profile of his impassive face. “We’re friends, but when we work together, I still have seniority over you,” Jimin says and the sudden cold tone shocks your system. “For one, you’re supposed to call me ‘sir’ and you do as I tell you.” You scoff, unable to believe he’s redirecting his air rage onto you. “Or else what? What are you gonna do?” “...I’ll throw you off this plane.”

“Oh my god.” It’s so outrageous, you feel steam coming out of your ears, your pressurized temper blowing off its cap. “That sounds like a fantastic idea! Just strap a parachute to my back and throw your co-pilot off this plane! The airline would fucking love that, wouldn’t they?!” “Why can’t you agree with me on anything?!” Jimin’s frown deepens and his pitch increases in volume to match yours. “You don’t think these birds and fucking clouds are annoying as shit?!” “These are petty issues, Jimin!” You throw your arms into the air. “It doesn’t even matter!” “It does matter!” He’s screaming over you. “If you knew better, you would actually help me instead of trying to tell me to calm down which mind you does not help with the situation at all!” “Well sorry for actually giving a shit and not wanting your pilot license to be taken away!” The two of you bicker back and forth. This isn’t what either of you want, but maybe if you weren’t so caught up in it, you’d realize that something was off. “Why the fuck would it be taken away?! I’m the best goddamn pilot this airline has seen!” “Yeah, but you’re swearing and screaming! What sane person would fly beside you?!” Jimin barks out a chilling laugh before staring into your eyes. “You would!” “Guess I’m not sane then! Guess you’re not the crazy one! I am!” It’s infuriating how you’ve become unhinged and lost all control of your emotions. Now you’re the raging one and it’s unsightly. “Is that what you’re trying to say?! Well, Sherlock, I’m not the one screaming at clouds and birds, alright?!” “Goddammit, _____.” Jimin is as upset as you are and he sits back. “I wanted this to be perfect, okay?!” You shake your head, yet another scoff coming from your mouth. “Why the fuck does that matter?!” He’s so utterly frustrating at the moment, you want to throttle him and throw him out the front window. You hate how he can get under your skin. You hate how this entire thing has spiraled out of hand. More importantly, you hate Jim— “Because I wanted to impress you!” “.....” There’s a second of complete silence. His crisp voice reverberates around the small cockpit, piercing through the white noise of the aircraft’s engine, and it echos into your mind. You are bewildered to say the least. “What?” Jimin sighs and runs a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs back before his hands return to the controls. He swallows hard and continues looking straight ahead, avoiding your intense gaze. “I know you’ve been avoiding me. Why?” “I have not!” Your defense is weak. “Don’t accuse me—” “You think I’m that stupid, don’t you?! You think I’m blind? I heard from Namjoon and I saw the look on your face this morning!” He’s still angry and frustrated, but the hurt in his timbre is all too evident and even though you’re still supposed to be irritated with him, instead you feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. “You didn’t want to be my co-pilot!” “T-that’s not true!” “You’re a liar! You’ve been trying to switch every single time we have the same schedule together! Why?!” No matter how many times he’s thought about it, he can’t seem to work it out inside his mind. “Did I do something wrong?! Am I really that bad that you’re scared to be next to me?!” “No! Fuck—” Jimin finally turns to you. His dark locks flop back into place, brushing over his forehead in a disarray. His soft eyes gaze back into yours, his deep irises meeting yours. His plump lips part slightly, inhaling a slight breath. “Or is it because you finally realize you’re in love with me?!” Shit. “What the fuck—” “You think I wouldn’t notice?! I felt you hold my hand when we were asleep on that trip to Barcelona!” Somehow, this fight has led to you being on the witness stand as Jimin questions you to death, pushing you into a corner to admit your crimes. One moment you’re both yelling at each other and the next, you find out that he’s been onto you for the past year. You’re still reeling, getting whiplash at how the exchange morphed so quickly. “And that time we were in Bangkok and I got food poisoning, you kissed me when you thought I was asleep!” “I kissed your forehead!” “So you admit it?!” This is humiliating. This is absolutely embarrassing and now you really wish you had taken that offer of being thrown off the plane when the opportunity was given. Maybe you can throw yourself off the plane instead. “You really think I wouldn’t know?! We’ve been friends for what? Nine years now?! I can read you like a book!” “Oh really?!” You challenge him, still not backing down. “Then what am I thinking now?” Jimin steals a glimpse of you before turning back to the open skies ahead. He has the biggest grin plastered over his chubby cheeks and you think it might break his goddamn face. “You’re in love with me!” “Oh my god! Fine! I am in love with you, dumbass!” It’s out in the open. No more secrets. And admitting your feelings lights your face on fire. You’re sure you’re going to wake up screaming for the rest of your life about this nightmare of a conversation. “Happy now?!” He lets out a ‘hmph’, like the cocky bastard that he is. “Very!” “I’ve been trying to sort this shit out ever since I fucking caught feelings and now you’re stepping all over me for it?! You force me to confess just so you can get a free ego boost? Thanks, jerk!” The pair of you are so childish, it’s painful, but at this very moment, you don’t care. You’re just trying to hold yourself together, forcing yourself not to start crying out of shame. It’s frustrating because you can’t even storm off or leave him in the dust. You have a plane to fly. And you can’t imagine what the next four hours is going to be like. “I get it, okay?! You’re not interested! So, I’ll deal with this myself! You can fuck Yoonji in peace!” “The hell, woman!” He whirls his neck over, frown gracing his features. “Have you heard anything that comes out of my mouth?! I never said I was fucking her!” “You didn’t need to! She’s practically moaning when you look at her!” “Fuck these fucking birds,” Jimin mumbles before turning to you once more. “Look, I’m in love with you too.” “What?” “Yeah and I have been for some time now—” He’s interrupted by some knocking on the door. Then, there’s the sound of someone punching the touchpad code in. In another moment, the head stewardess has her slight head peeking in, not to disturb the two of you. “Um, is everything okay?” Yoonji asks with pouty lips and a concerned expression. “We heard some shouting.” “Um, everything’s fine.” You smile at her, wondering how loud you both were to leak sound from the supposedly soundproof door. “Yeah, we had one or two…misunderstandings, that’s all.” “Oh, okay.” She nods, put at ease with your reassurance. “Would you like some drinks?” “Sure. I’ll...um...have some water.” Jimin clears his throat and nods as well. “I’ll take a coffee.” “Any creams or sugars?” The pretty stewardess has her hands folded together, scarf perfectly tied, eyes glistening as they pin onto the man beside you. She hangs onto every word of his. “No, I’m fine. Actually...just one cream.” “Okay.” It’s excruciatingly slow and awkward. It reminds you of when waitresses at restaurants come by to pour water and the conversation just completely dies as the both of you watch her. It feels like her movements are that of a turtle’s; she’s taking forever just to finish pouring and bringing your drinks over. “Here you go and here you go. Would you like anything else? Any meals or anything? We have peanut snacks and lightly-salted crackers. There’s also some chicken, beef, or vegetable rice available.” “I think we’re okay for now, thank you.” Jimin is curt, brushing her off and not paying any mind when she’s straight on staring at him. The tension in the small space can be cut with a knife and you’re beginning to break a sweat from it. “Alright.” She smiles meekly, preparing to leave and completely unaware of what was transpiring before she interrupted. “Just call me if you need anything.” “Thanks.” It’s deadly silent. The conversation takes its time to sink into your skin. There’s a full ten minutes of you and Jimin purely focusing on driving the plane and flying safely through the clouds. He looks forward, trying to decrease the turbulence with the oncoming wind, and you keep your eyes trained outside the window. He only mutters every so often under his breath before taking sips of his coffee to calm himself down. Eventually, you can’t bare it anymore and you glance at him, clearing your throat. His ears perk at the sound and you brace yourself. “That takeoff…….it was pretty smooth.” “Thanks.” “You did a good job.” You swallow hard. “And...uh….you dealt with the changes in the weather well.” The corner of Jimin’s mouth twitches, threatening to spread into a smile. He muses how you know exactly where to hit his weakest spots. He can’t help but indulge in your compliments. “I know.” “You’re a good pilot.” You capitalise on his number one weakness, unashamed to use it to your advantage. Jimin has always softened like putty in your hands every time you pay him a compliment. It wouldn’t hurt to lay it on thick. “You look really handsome in your pilot’s uniform, I can’t believe you ironed it so well.” Jimin is full on fighting with himself not to just break out into a fit of giggles as he maintains a straight face. He glances over at you and casts his eyes down your body. “You look nice too. In that suit. Your… legs are nice.” You almost spit out your water. Jimin isn’t the type to return compliments, usually he’s too busy basking in them, and although he does sound a little awkward, you can tell that he really means it. You’re at a loss for words because that means… that he’s actually taken notice of you? In this grubby little pantsuit? Suddenly the atmosphere in the cockpit has changed. It’s no longer tense or charged with the weight of both your tempers, it now borders upon uncharted territory, and your mind feels as foggy as the sky outside. While Jimin has almost all of his attention on the route in front of him, trying to steer the plane through the worst of the turbulence, you can’t help but crave for more of his compliments. Wait, when did the tables turn so suddenly? “Wh-what about my legs?” You hazard a glance at him, and when Jimin looks over at you in confusion, you clear your throat. “You know, I was just thinking about how unequal this relationship is. I always give you the most detailed compliments, and you never return any of them.” You can see Jimin visibly struggling to get his words out. His jaw is clenched and a muscle jumps in his cheek, and you can feel your breath catch in your chest. Finally, Jimin reaches over to hit the autopilot setting again and turns his gaze to you. And when he does, his gaze is absolutely predatory. “That’s my bad then, how shall I begin to make it up to you?” Jimin swivels his chair so that he’s facing you, and you can see his knees spread outwards, drawing your gaze up to his crotch in those deliciously tight pants of his. “What about my legs?” You purposely cross one leg over the other to draw his attention to them and you pretend to be disinterested when actually… you’re thinking of a way to get him to say that you have better legs than that beautiful bitch, Yoonji. “Most people usually use a scale for reference when they give compliments…” And then your eyes slide over to the entrance of the cockpit, giving him an extra hint. Jimin follows your gaze and smirks to himself when he realises what you want. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t tease you for a bit first. “Your legs are really long,” he starts off, running his eyes slowly down from your hips all the way to your toes. “And they’d look really good wrapped around my waist.” Your breath hitches in your chest as your thighs clench involuntarily. Jimin’s eagle eyes catch the subtle movement and he raises an eyebrow. But you’re not letting him off the hook that easily. “What else?” “I was also thinking of how they’d look like resting on my shoulders,” Jimin rubs his chin thoughtfully, licking his lips as he pretends to ponder. “And how my finger marks would look like on your inner thighs.” He is infuriating. By now you can see from the smirk on Jimin’s face that he knows exactly what you want to hear. “And?” Jimin makes a humming noise in the back of his throat, ever the tease. You decide that you need to up the stakes, and you lean over to rest your hand on his knee, fingers inching upwards ever so slowly. His muscles turn solid under your touch, and there is a sharp intake of breath. Jimin’s eyes are fixated on your fingers making the slow crawl up his inner thigh, towards the obvious tent in his pants, before you stop just short of making contact with it. “And, what else,” you prompt him again. Jimin’s fists are clenched, his knuckles white as he considers his options. He’s so rock hard in his pants right now, unbelievably turned on that he thinks he could come in his pants untouched. But just how far are you willing to take this? He’s sure that the both of you are breaking just about every rule in the pilot handbook right now, and yet, he’s dying just to feel your hand wrapped around him… “Y-your legs are…” Jimin meets your eye with a visible shudder as you begin to run your nails up and down his inner thighs. “Better than Yoonji’s could ever be.” A satisfied smirk paints itself upon your lips as you finally place your hand on him fully, giving him a firm squeeze to reward him. He feels thick in your palm, and your mouth salivates, wishing that the two of you were off this damn plane just so you can get a taste of him. Jimin groans and tilts his head back against the headrest, knees spreading even wider. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath before swallowing hard. “First Officer, would you like to grab my joystick for me?” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s been waiting to use this line for the longest time. His terrible innuendo makes you want to laugh, and you just manage to bite it back as you flick open the button on his pants and drag the zipper down. He is already dripping with precum when you pull him out and give him a few test strokes. “Yes, fuck,” Jimin groans at your touch as you swipe your thumb over his head. “Make sure to grip it tightly, Officer. Your hand needs to go up and down too.” If someone had told you this morning that you’d be giving Park Jimin a handjob over 30,000 feet in the air, you’d have laughed it off. But as you follow his instructions, you can’t help but feel a thrill sing through your veins at the thought of all the other passengers on the other side of this door. And Min Yoonji who potentially thinks she can just bat her lashes and get any guy she wants. “What do you think of my joystick, Officer?” he huffs out, putty in your hands. “Should turn the radio on. Let Seokjin fucking hear this.” “But I don’t want anyone else to hear you. This is for my ears only...” you can’t help the little pout that sneaks up your face and he mutters a curse, unable to resist lifting his hand to curl around your wrist and control your pacing. You blink innocently at him as your strokes continue to alternate between slow and fast. “Your joystick is the thickest I’ve ever seen… Am I doing a good job, Captain?” “S-so good, you’re passing the simulation with full marks if you keep this up,” Jimin bucks his hips into your hand. When your other hand drops to fondle his balls, he groans low in his throat and twitches in your grasp. “Fuck, I-I’m carrying such a full load today, Officer, did you know that?” You glance up from weighing his balls in your palm, stroking him faster and relishing the loud, obscene sound that echoes around the tiny cockpit. “It does seem to be very heavy indeed, Captain… maybe you need some help unloading it? Where should I put all the cargo?” “God, fuck, you’re such a fucking minx,” Jimin bites his lower lip as he groans. His little sounds and the cute, tiny moans that spill from his pretty lips only encourage your ministrations. Your underwear becomes soaked and uncomfortable, and as you watch his face scrunch, it sends an ache straight to your own core. “I can’t wait till we’re off this plane so I can blow my fucking load on your landing strip, Officer.” “My landing strip?” You raise an eyebrow at him, not knowing that he’d be into finishing all over your body. The thought of the both of you watching his cum drip from you has your panties soaked. Maybe you can’t give him that now, while you’re on this godforsaken plane, but perhaps you can give him something else. You push yourself off your seat to kneel in between his legs, opening your mouth and showing him your tongue. “It’s all clear for you, Captain.” There is sweat beading on his forehead as Jimin reaches down to wrap his hand around yours, helping you to jerk him off right onto your tongue. The first few spurts are far too strong and miss your mouth entirely, landing on your cheek before you feel the bitterness on your tongue as Jimin shifts his hips forward so that his tip is resting on your tongue directly. You wiggle your tongue to massage the head of his cock as he continues spurting cum, and you can feel him filling your mouth up to the brim, that you have to tilt your head back to make sure it doesn’t spill. Jimin sinks back in his seat, eyes closed as he tries to catch his breath. You can already feel the streaks of cum drying on your face, so you push yourself up, closing your mouth carefully. Jimin opens his eyes then, catching sight of you settling back in your chair. “You look so pretty with my cum on your face,” he remarks, reaching over to carefully wipe a smear that’s close to your eye with the pad of his finger, then bringing it to his lips, tongue peeking out to lick it away. “Do you need to spit? Here, have my cup.” He offers you his coffee cup from earlier, but you shake your head, making eye contact with him as you swallow deliberately and open your mouth to show him your clean tongue. Jimin swears under his breath, thumb coming to rest just under your lower lip. “That’s so hot. You’re fucking amazing. When we get off this plane, we’re going straight to the airport hotel.” The sight of your swollen lips and cum streaked face makes Jimin want to bend you over the controls and eat you out till you come all over his face, then fuck his cum into you till you’re leaking. But he’s already broken enough rules for today; put others’ lives at risk even. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that—” you start, tucking your hair behind your ear. “No, it takes two hands to clap,” Jimin sighs as he tucks himself back into his pants. “I should have had better self control. It was irresponsible of me, the Captain of this plane. It’ll never happen again. Because once we’re on solid land, I’m fucking you so hard that you won’t be able to walk till our next flight back.” A signal comes in from the plane’s radio, and you glance over to the autopilot timer, saved from having to reply. It’s only been ten minutes since Jimin switched it on, but now that you’re more level-headed and thinking clearly, it was highly irresponsible for the two of you to leave the plane like that, even if autopilot allows you to be hands-off. Thankfully, nothing happened, and you can see that Jimin is equally sobered as he checks in with control tower and resumes control of the plane. “Go clean yourself up, I got it from here,” Jimin glances toward the cockpit entrance. You rise from your seat, hoping that you can somehow make it to the staff lavatory without running into anyone. But just as you press the exit button and step out of the cockpit, as your luck would have it, you almost crash straight into Yoonji carrying a tray with two prepackaged meals on it. “Oh! Officer ______! Didn’t see you there, are you alright? I was just bringing you and Captain Park your in-flight meal...” Yoonji is concerned as she glances at your face. “You look a bit…” Belatedly you realise that you have cum on your face, and the tight sensation around the corner of your lips tells you that there’s probably some there too. By the look on Yoonji’s face, she’s obviously caught on to what that mystery white substance is as she flushes a deep red, and you take the opportunity to rub it in her face….not literally though since Jimin’s cum belongs to you and only you. “Oh, I’m fine, don’t worry,” you give her a sweet smile as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Captain Park was just teaching me how to handle his joystick. He was giving me a bit of one-to-one coaching on the techniques, grip, pace, complicated stuff like that. I’d tell you more, but I don’t think you’d understand.” Her mouth drops open. “Oh, and…” you glance at the in-flight meals on her tray. One lobster bisque with salted egg yolk sauce, and the other is a plain old chicken with green beans and potatoes. That nasty little witch’s favouritism has always been too obvious. “Actually, Jimin is allergic to green beans… could you change his to lobster too? Thanks, Yoonji!” “B-but the lobster was for h—” Without waiting to hear the rest of her sentence, you saunter over to the staff lavatory, feeling her glare on your back the whole way. It feels good, more than good. As childish as it is, you got to assert your dominance like some kind of alpha wolf, and the adrenaline from your dirty antics is still coursing through your veins. You didn’t get your own release and your underwear is still sticky, but in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t bother you too much. If anything, you’re a bit disappointed that you have to wash his cum from your skin, even if it was drying and becoming uncomfortable. You wish he marked you in a better way. Maybe you’ll suggest it to him later. But what’s more important to you is that he feels the same way. Park Jimin, idiot extraordinaire, adorable puppy with sharp teeth, actually likes you back. No….wait, a minute...he doesn’t just like you— “I’m in love with you too.” It echos over and over in your brain again. You’ve imprinted the simple sentence, memorized the way he spoke every syllable, how his breath paused in timidness, how he gazed at you. You grin at yourself in the mirror, turning your head from side to side to admire the glow on your cheeks. Honestly, with you looking this good, you don’t know how Jimin managed to hold out this long. You’ve never seen yourself looking so radiant and glowy, although it may just be the effect of his cum… you’ll have to look into that one later. You might look crazy, but you don’t care that you skip back into the cockpit with one cheesy smile plastered on your aching cheeks. You don’t care that you’re giggling like some teenage girl who just received her first confession from her long, unrequited crush. You’re going to savour all the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach and embrace the flowers that are blooming inside your chest, bouquets that all belong to one man, Park Jimin. The cockpit smells of sex and Jimin, and you don’t mind in the least bit. He’s chewing on a cubed cantaloupe, having yet to dig into his lobster. Your bright smile is infectious and he can’t help but mirror it, chubby cheeks swelling up as he chews. “Oh, I think you’ll want to hear this. Yoonji was just here bringing us our food and she said this place smelled…musty. I told her I was just giving you a private flight lesson.” “Really?” you chime out before coming behind him, not really caring about what Yoonji thinks. “Why do you look so happy?” You lean over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek and hop back to your seat before Jimin has a chance to blink or react. He turns to you and his grin expands. “Maybe it’s because you told me you love me.” “I do,” he reasserts without a second thought, having too much fun watching you. Jimin has an endeared expression written across his features and it only squeezes your heart more. You wish you could just roll in bed and kick your blankets, too giddy for your own good. Yet, you hold yourself together, doing your best to remain professional and bring this plane to its final destination. “Before we were interrupted…..you said you’ve been for a long time now?” Who knew that you equally loved basking in his attention as he did in yours. You don’t really care about Yoonji anymore. She was just an excuse, really. Little things like that don’t seem to matter when it’s just you and him. “Of course,” Jimin scoffs. “Are you kidding me? How could I not notice the cutest and funniest girl in my class who turned out to be super smart and second best to me?” Your smile drops and your brow raises. “Excuse me….second best?” The little shit ignores you. “I’m just happy that you finally realized how much you’re crazy for me.” “Psh, how cocky can you be?” You turn back towards the front windshield, returning back to help with the navigation. “I’m not crazy for you.” “You’re right.” He grins. “You’re just crazy.” If looks could kill, the man would’ve turned to ash by the way you glare at him with a murderous glint in your eyes. He immediately retracts his words with a laugh, “I’m joking! I’m joking! I mean you’re crazy for loving me too because you’re so fucking amazing and incredible.” “Save it, Park.” Except, he’s a brat that never listened to you, and he steals the chance. Jimin completely catches you off guard when he suddenly leans over and kisses the corner of your lips, pulling away after the simple peck. When you turn in surprise, his gaze softens. “Now go eat your lobster. I need you to be hungry when we get off this damn flight because I decided that I’m asking you out to dinner before I tie you up for the next three days in the best damn hotel suite the airport has to offer.” It’s too hard not to smile and you feel like an idiot when your grin makes yet another reappearance. “Don’t you know I don’t put out on the first date?” “Who said it’s our first date?” A glimmer of mischief sparkles in his irises when you both glance at each other. “This is our fiftieth.” “What? Since when?” “Since our after our first flight exam and I invited you to McDonalds at midnight. That was our first date.” You’re appalled, recalling the memory with the snap of your finger. You’d never allow a first date to be so shitty, even if it was with him. “That so does not count!” “It did in my mind,” he giggles. “You’re ridiculous.” “—ridiculously in love with you,” Jimin adds on and you can’t resist your smile. The pair of you might be over 30,000 feet in the air, but at this rate, it feels like you could float up to the moon and stars. You can’t wait for tomorrow, for the next day, for the day after that. The anticipation bubbles in your stomach, joining with the storm of butterflies and blooming flowers. You can’t wait to travel with him again and again. For the rest of your life, you get to go across the entire world with your best friend. If it’s with him, you can go anywhere….even if Jimin rages on all the birds in the sky.

#bts scenario #Jimin fluff #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #bts smut #lol i can finally tag one of my fics as smut y'all #mAN i can talk ALLL day about how great pilot uniforms are #that shit is really something

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years

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1. If we returned to a world without internet, what aspect of online life would you miss the most? Wow, that would really, really suck, ha. For someone like me with no life and who spends a lot of time on the internet... yikes. Sounds sad, but it’s true. I would miss Tumblr and surveys and checking my social medias and looking up random stuff and shopping online. I mean, obviously I’d have to adapt and move on, and hey maybe something good would come from it, but yeah just imagining that sounds awful haha. 2. What food are you craving at the moment? I’m not hungry right now, but I am thinking about that pizza I had Monday haha. It was SO good. I could definitely go for another. 3. Are you craving anything aside from food, and if so, what? I wanna travel. Last week my dad flew out to visit family and I was so envious that he was getting to fly somewhere and get out of town/state for a few days. I’ve only flown a total of 2 times, which was over 10 years ago now. I’ve gone along to take and pick up people from the airport many times; though, and each time I always get the urge to fly somewhere. I get this butterfly type feeling each time I’ve gone to the airport and I just wanna gooooo.

4. Where was the last place you went and what did you do there? I went to the doctor yesterday for my monthly check up on something ongoing I’ve been dealing with. 5. What was the highlight and low point of your summer (or whatever season you happen to be taking this in)? The only good parts about this summer was the few times I went to the beach, my birthday weekend vacation, saw some good movies, and my aunt (whom I’m super close with) came and stayed with a for a few days last week and it was really fun. Otherwise, I despise summer, it’s hot and miserable. I dread it every year and I just look forward to it being over. 6. What was the last change you made to your lifestyle? Hmm. 7. What was the last thing you gave up doing? Uhhh. I feel like I’ve given up on a lot of things in the last few years. Myself most of all. 8. Do you deal well with criticism? Does it make a difference if it’s constructive? I mean, if someone wants to offer some helpful, useful advice that could be beneficial to me that’s cool. Just don’t be rude about it. If I’m doing something and there’s possibly a better way to do it, then suggest that in a way that doesn’t come off condescending or rude. I’m most critical on myself anyway. I will say; though, it does annoy me if someone keeps telling me something that I should do that I already know I should do. Don’t criticize me constantly for it. Don’t nag me. 9. What was the last thing to boost your self-esteem? What sort of things typically make you feel good about yourself? My self-esteem is shit, but I know it’d be nice to get my hair done finally. It’s been over a year and it looks so bad and I always like how my hair looks and feels after I get it done. Like, I’m still a mess but at least my hair would look nice. 10. When it comes to food, do you prefer crunchy or softer textures? I like some crunch, but not hard. Like the right amount of crunch and crispiness, ya know? Depending on what it is, of course. I like soft textures as well. I eat everything with sauce, dips, or olive oil because I can’t eat things dry. Like my sandwiches, for example, I put a lot of mayo and mustard, but I also dip it in olive oil. Or like I eat eggs with ranch, unless I have country gravy with them. 11. Do you prefer savory or sweet things for breakfast? I just eat scrambled eggs with spinach and cheese for breakfast, sometimes in the form of a breakfast burrito. Hash browns are a great bonus. I used to eat like cereal, pop tarts, toaster strudels, granola bars, oatmeal, and waffles, but now I can’t eat a lot of sweet stuff anymore. Plus, I just prefer to have eggs. There’s more substance and I get something good out of it like protein. Honestly, I used to never even have breakfast at all, I just liked breakfast foods like I listed above. It’s only within the last year especially that I started to eat breakfast regularly. 12. When was the last time someone disappointed you? What about the last time you disappointed someone else? I’ve been very disappointed in myself for a long time. I feel like I’ve disappointed my family and former friends, too. 13. What is something you can’t seem to stop doing (or start)? I can’t seem to stop being a mess or start getting my shit together... 14. When was the last time you made a new friend? What about the last time you lost a friend? I haven’t made any friends in years. I lost all my friends over the past few years. 15. What was the last thing you were excited about? What about nervous? I was excited about having my aunt come and stay with us last week and for our beach trip last weekend. We had a really good time. As for nervous, this is a long story time so grab a snack and buckle up:

I was full on freaking out last Sunday, after having a great, relaxing time at the beach, because as we were turning the corner to our street, we got notifications on our phone from our security camera, which at almost 10 o’clock at night, was like wtf?? Before any of us had time to check it, we saw for ourselves the reason why it was going off: As we turned we saw firetrucks, smoke, and our neighbors all standing around outside, some of which were standing at our door, hence the security alerts going off. We saw our house and our neighbor’s house that we’re connected to engulfed in smoke. We had no idea what was going on, but our first and only thought and concern was our dog, who was in the house. I start literally crying and freaking out because like I said, we didn’t know what was going on, but what I described seeing as we turned the corner was terrifying and my only concern was my dog. My mom stops the car and she and my brother jump out and run up to our house. My brother comes back out running to the car with my dog, who was physically fine, THANK GOD, but very scared. She jumped in the back with me and I just held on to her the entire time while my mom, aunt, and brother went back to find out what the hell was going on. Turns out that our neighbor, whose house is connected to ours, was working on his car in the garage and his engine caught fire. Being that our houses are connected, the smoke came over to our side and filled up our garage. It was so bad that it was coming out the sides, which is why it looked like it was our house that had the fire. When my mom opened up the garage, she said the smoke was so thick that she couldn’t even see anything. It was crazy. The firefighters had to do a walkthrough of our house to make sure it was fine and checked for carbon monoxide and all that, and had to use their big blower thing to clear out the smoke in our garage. Our house was fine, we just had to open the windows up in our house and air it for awhile. The smell was strong; though, and the smoke was very irritating to my throat. OH, and the reason why our other neighbors were standing at our door was because they thought we were home asleep and they were trying to alert us of the fire. One girl even jumped our fence to bang on our backdoor. They were banging and yelling for awhile, apparently. My mom and I watched the video camera footage later and saw everything and omg it was so crazy. You can tell how scared and concerned they were. And the smoke was so bad at that point that they were coughing and covering their mouths, but they continued banging on our door and trying to yell out to alert us. D: It meant SO much that they cared and were genuinely concerned about us like that. We couldn’t stop thanking them. Ahh but anyway yeah, it was w i l d. And this was just a few days after there was another fire a few houses down from us. :O 16. What is something small that you take extremely personally? Hm. I don’t know. I’m a sensitive person, so. 17. What is your favorite thing about your favorite person? I don’t really have a favorite person. I love my family and I’m close to some more than others, but I don’t choose favorites like that. 18. What is something you wish other people knew about you? I don’t know. 19. What is something you wish others DIDN’T know? Uhhh. 20. When was the last time you comforted someone who was upset? When my aunt and I get together it always ends up turning into a therapy session between us. We stay up late and talk about everything and yeah, sometimes it gets pretty deep. Anyway, I was just lending an ear and letting her vent about some things. 21. What was going on the last time you couldn’t sleep? Every night I stay up and watch ASMR, Tumblr, and do surveys until I fall asleep. 22. What are your plans for the day ahead (or tomorrow if it’s late)? I don’t have any today, but tomorrow my mom and I are dropping off my brother and his friend at a concert. It’s out of town, so I wanted to tag along for the ride. 23. Do you tend to be more grumpy when you’re tired or when you’re hungry? Both. Like, I’m always tired, but when I first wake up you do not want to talk to me before I’ve had coffee and had time to wake up. I also get quite hangry. 24. When was the last time you yelled at someone? I don’t know. I yelled out to someone so they could hear me, but I don’t recall the last time I yelled at someone. 25. What types of things typically cause you to cry? Blah some days it’s like I’m on the verge of tears all day and any thing can set me off. Other times there’s a specific reason, other times it’s a combination or build up of things that lead to crying. There’s various reasons. I’m just a cry baby. 26. When was the last time someone else cried in your presence? It’s been awhile, actually. 27. What is one thing that would make your life a lot better? Better health. 28. What is something you are grateful to already have in your life? My family. 29. How would you describe your overall aesthetic? Leggings, graphic Ts, and Adidas. 30. What is one of your most positive characteristics? What about one of your most negative? Does it bother you when you see certain aspects of yourself in other people, or does it depend on the trait? I have a lot of negative traits. I’m struggling to think of something positive. I used to be someone who was there for others and willing to help anyway I could, but I haven’t been that way these past few years. I’ve become such a shitty person these past few years I feel like. :/

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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bunnyboys · 5 years

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21 Questions

I was tagged by @scarfy36 and @loveonmanes 💓

Rules: Simply answer the following 21 questions and tag 21 people (or more!) you’d like to get to know more!

Name / Nickname: amber / am / amber two (that last one hasnt been used in almost 7 months im deprived and i miss you bitch @loveloveolivia)

Sign: capricorn sun , aries moon and rising

Height: 5’9 / 1.80m

Hogwarts House: hufflepuff

Last thing I Googled: the imdb page for into the spiderverse bc i wanted to know who voiced who

Favourite musician/s: bmth, the wombats, halsey, god idk thats what i listen to mostly atm i guess

Last song I listened to: here with me by dido but thats mostly bc my roswell nm playlist starts and basically ends with it rip

Song stuck in my head: old town road remix , had it fucking stuck in my head for weeks yeehaw bitches

Following: ive had my tumblr for almost 10 years (yes hello grandma) and i mostly try to keep it around 400 else i’ll lose my mind

Followers: as mentioned above ive had my blog for uh ages but most of my followers are inactive

Do you get asks: nopes not really , idk if its a blessing or a curse

Amount of Sleep: probs around 7/8 hours nowadays, which is a LOT in comparison with back home

Lucky Number: 28 , i love any number with a 2 or an 8 as long as it doesnt involve a 3

What I’m Wearing: really oversized cinco the mayo tshirt that we got at a bar

Dream Trip: this is so weird to answer when im currently living one but um i guess every place i still want to visit in europe, and then australia and nz i think

Favourite Food: pizza always baby

Instruments: nothing, meanwhile my brother back home is taking drum lessons and living the life ive always wanted rip

Languages: dutch, english, german, 2 words of spanish and norwegian

Favourite Song/s: of all time? what a feeling by one direction (my og brand) currently? nightmare by halsey

Random Fact: idk man one of the kids im watching was going on about how hotdogs are actually made of dogs in a very detailed story, he is 4 years old and when we asked where he got that from he said he thought of it himself. so ive kind of been thinking about that ever since and how i might fear for my life

Aesthetic: i have many different ones but anything to do with nature and greens, or soft pinks and that time of day at the beginning of the evening when traffic and car lights start to be a little brighter but the sky is still clear and light

anywayssss i tag @chaoticbisexualalien @vlamis @cylonbarnes @thefvlcon @catfasteve @rogersbf @nightwideopen @grungebucky @oldbrooklynsoul

#yeah so this is just me rambling at midnight #you dont have to do this ofc #anyway i love you all #💓💓💓💓💓💓#about me

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gukyi · 7 years

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heart is where the home is | kth

↳ alternative title: ‘from new york to la, you flew right to my heart’

⇒ summary: somehow, when you woke up this morning, you didn’t really picture yourself falling in love with the attractive, well-read traveller sitting next to you on the plane, but a missed connection and an alarming amount of hand-holding later, you find that you both get a lot more than what you paid for.

⇒ airport au with the friends to lovers trope sort of???? i guess??

⇒ pairing: taehyung x female reader

⇒ word count: 16k

⇒ warnings: smut lmao

⇒ genre: fluff, smut

⇒ a/n: this is entirely based on an actual real life experience i had when i went on vacation last month, except i didn’t get to meet a cute aesthetic boy and fall in love with him :’( can’t win ‘em all, eh? for the record, i love eating fries dipped in mayo.

You’re such a dad, honestly. It’s three hours before your first flight—to none other than LA, the city of angels (and dead dreams, and Starbucks secret menus, and no water), mind you—and the taxi you’re sitting in is only now just pulling into JFK airport. And it’s stressing you out a little, because you read on some awful Buzzfeed article that you should actually show up four hours in advance when you’re taking a day flight, since airports are usually busier and therefore tend to have longer waiting times. It’s kind of ridiculous, actually, showing up practically a quarter of the day before you need to be there, but you’ve never flown on such a long flight before, and if you’re not one-hundred-and-ten percent prepared, what’s the damn point?

You pay the taxi driver the hefty bill he requires—fuck you, morning rush hour New York City traffic—and grab your things, breathing in the ever-so-pleasant air of thousands of cars, vans, and buses lined up to transport people to and fro around the airport. All airports smell the exact same the moment you set foot in them, and it’s the scent of gasoline, over-cleaned marble, and misbehaving, tantrum-throwing children. It’s somewhat refreshing, actually, all part of the journey. A reminder that you won’t be trapped in the same old town any longer.

Sure enough, the airport is decently packed when you walk inside, pulling your large four-wheel suitcase—they are infinitely better to handle than two-wheelers—and your carry-on one next to you, a backpack hugging your shoulders. The line for check-in is not astronomically long, like you would expect it to be on a typical Saturday in JFK, but the line for those ticket kiosks certainly is. You roll your way up to the end of the line and wait, tapping your foot impatiently because the fear of not allowing yourself enough time still sits in your brain, only able to be resolved once you sit down at your gate.

When you finally reach an open kiosk, it’s all fumbling for your papers in your backpack that have your flight information on them, shuffling through the travel folder you store to find all of your flight times and numbers and whatnot. You’re a bit… anxious, to say the least, desperate to speed through the process as fast as you can so you waste no time, but the only thing you manage to accomplish is dropping all of your flight information on the cold marble floor of JFK in a flurry of A4.

Ugh, fan-fucking-tastic. From being up at five in the morning because you’re the worst last-minute packer imaginable, to getting stuck in traffic, to this, is exactly what you needed to get your day started, honestly. You swear under your breath, muttering to yourself that the universe has it out for you, reaching down to dig for your papers under all of the suitcases and the legs waiting for you to hurry up.

You stick your hand around until you gather all the ones that you can see, trying to shuffle them back into a relatively neat pile on your suitcase, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. A kind stranger from a couple of people down the line is holding the paper with all of your information on your flight to LAX.

“You dropped this,” Kind Stranger says to you, holding it out.

“Thank you,” you tell Kind Stranger, shooting him a very tired but very appreciative smile as you take the sheet from him before turning around.

You finish the rest of your boarding-pass-printing-receipt-bag-tag nonsense without any major scuffles, hitting up that one free checked bag deal that American Airlines is giving you at the check-in desk.

It’s a real shame that there were no direct flights out of JFK to Seoul, since you’d much prefer to get the trip over and done with in one shot rather than two—you can never fucking trust where your suitcases end up when you’re going on more than one flight—but you’ve never been to Los Angeles before, and while the airport doesn’t technically count as visiting the city, it’s damn close enough and the location is getting checked off of your metaphorical bucket list.

The rest of the waiting you have to do for security has you antsy and annoyed, because security is just the worst on so many levels and this is why you should have shown up four hours prior instead of three. There’s never anything good waiting for you on the other side of that cage they enjoy calling a metal scanner.

When the hurricane has passed and you’re finally sitting down on those cold metal benches that the airport people put post-security for all of the mere mortals—the ones that don’t have the luxury of cruising through TSA Pre-check without having to take off their shoes—to gather their belongings and tie their laces up, you feel calmer. It’s one-and-a-half hours until your flight departs, which equals to one hour until you board (if all goes well, but you can never trust airlines), which is one hour of time that, in hindsight, you don’t really need.

What you do need, however, is breakfast, because your ass woke up at five in the morning and totally just forwent breakfast as a meal of the day, and your stomach rumbling probably could have caused a whole big hubbub at security with how aggressively loud it is.

There’s a Starbucks in this terminal, a couple overpriced airport stores down, but from what you can see, the line is practically a mile out of the hypothetical door and while you do have one hour to burn, you’re not spending it in that. Another whiff and you smell some coffee a hallway in the opposite direction, and you beeline for it, hoping the rest of the population hasn’t decided to take the same detour. Sure enough, the place you find is relatively empty in comparison to Starbucks, save for a couple of stragglers here and there, dragging their suitcases behind them just like you.

You could really go for some coffee. Some coffee and a nice muffin sounds like a perfect breakfast in your opinion, and while you’re at it, you might as well grab something else to eat for lunch on the plane, since the flight is six hours. Afterwards, you should probably go find some airport seats without the metal armrests so you can go lie down and try to fake some shuteye, as you didn’t get very much last night, and you’re notorious for not sleeping on flights.

Since there’s not very many people in this place, the line isn’t all too well defined, which leads another exchange with the Kind Stranger.

“Are you in line?” Kind Stranger asks as he approaches you, pointing to the crooked line behind you, the one that’s for ordering coffee.

“Me? No, I already ordered,” you tell him. “You go ahead.”

Kind Stranger shoots you a Kind Stranger Smile, and that’s that.

When you’ve gotten your food and your coffee, the caffeine that shoots through your veins decides to let you know that sleep is totally off the cards now, the familiar buzz of short-lived energy settling in your brain. So much for that idea. You make the executive decision to go find somewhere you charge your already depleted phone battery. Gotta stay prepared.

Good thing you managed to find an outlet when you did. The second you collapse in your armrest-decorated seat at your gate your phone starts buzzing erratically on the cushion.

“Hello?” You say into the phone.

“Y/N! When’s your flight?” Jennie asks on the other end, clearly very excited to get an update.

“I told you, it’s at ten. I still have like, an hour,” you remind her.

“Ugh,” you hear Jennie groan into the phone, and can just imagine her throwing her head back in exasperation. Relatable. “That’s still so long.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” you promise. “Just a little longer.”

“I’m so excited for you to get here,” Jennie says.

You chuckle. “I know, or you wouldn’t be awake at one in the morning to call me for an update.”

“I’m just so antsy, Y/N! We’ve been planning your visit for months and now you’re about to get on a flight to come see me,” she continues, and you can make out the anticipation in her voice, in her impatient but excited tone.

“One flight to go to LA, and then I’m gonna get on a flight to come see you,” you correct, and you can practically visualize Jennie rolling her eyes.

“Whatever,” Jennie says, “you’re almost here and that’s all I care about. God, I have the next three months planned out down to the second. There are so many things you need to see here…”

“I’m looking forward to it, Jen,” you assure her. “Just a little longer.”

“Too long, if you ask me.”

“Go to sleep, then it’ll be less time.”

“See you soon!” Jennie exclaims.

“See you!”

The call cuts out there, presumably Jennie ending it and going to sleep like she should. You know she won’t really try to sleep, she’s just saying that she will to get you to stop scolding her about it, but she needs her sleep, says you, the hypocrite who got four hours of sleep last night.

You spend the next hour hanging out around your gate, watching other people on your flight file into the area and sit down in preparation for boarding as the clock ticks down. The standout experience of the following hour is the couple that sits down next to you, the man holding a baby that can’t be older than six months. She’s got these beautifully big brown eyes, and they’re so interested in you, staring and staring and staring. She’s cute, if you’re being honest, dressed up in these adorable overalls that must be at least two pains in the ass to take off when changing diapers. You wave to you, imitating her expression, and she giggles her baby giggle.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kind Stranger again, and he’s making his way towards you.

Closer.

Oh, no, he’s just sitting down at your gate. Guess the universe decided that your life and Kind Stranger’s life should intertwine ever so slightly as flight buddies. Sounds like a plan, universe.

Right on schedule, the American Airlines attendants start calling for first class and platinum members to start boarding, and little by little people begin filing into a line at the gate, tickets at the ready. The baby and her family go up when the woman at the desk calls for lap children under two, and you join into the line a little later when your zone is called, early enough to secure yourself some opening for your carry-on. No word on Kind Stranger once the lady scans your ticket and you’re barrelling down the ramp.

You’re the first one sitting in your row, laying claim to the aisle seat of Row 19 ABC, so you get yourself situated before immediately hopping onto your phone, cherishing the last few minutes of cell data that you’ll have for the next six hours. You attend to some last minute emails and triple check that you took the appropriate amount of time off of work, when a figure approaches your row, casting a shadow over the sun that streams through the tiny little airplane window.

It’s Kind Stranger, and it looks like he’s in your row.

“I’m the window seat,” Kind Stranger tells you, pointing towards his place. “But I just need to put my bag up, first.”

“Want help?”

Kind Stranger smiles, shaking his head. His hair is loose, floppy bangs over his forehead, so when his head moves, his hair follows, bouncing around and gleaming in the streaks of sun. “No, I got it.”

In this position, with Kind Stranger pressed close against the armrest of your seat, arms stretched up as he battles to get his carry-on in the overhead compartment like everyone else, you get a good look at him. Sunglasses dangle from the collar of his striped button-down shirt, tucked into these very fashion forward wide leg pants. He’s got a good figure, you must admit, and maybe it’s just the trick of the light, but his golden skin seems to glimmer in the sun filtering through the windows. Kind Stranger sends you an amicable grin, one that says, “Hi, nice to sit next to you for the next six hours” but not much else.

You’re so enraptured with him that you forget you’re actually blocking his path to his seat.

“Sorry,” he says, tapping you on the shoulder. He awkwardly points to the seat beside you, and your eyes widen before you realize what you have to do. You get out of the row quickly, letting him shuffle in between the seats so he can sit down comfortably.

Kind Stranger looks even better when he’s closer to the sun.

But you won’t say that to his face. The most of your conversations with him on this plane will probably be him asking you to move if he needs to use the lavatory, or get something out of the overhead compartment. Neither of you are here to make friends on this flight.

Kind Stranger settles in a little more, placing a book in the pocket in front of him, one that looks awfully battered and worn, and buckling up.

“I had a feeling we’d meet again,” Kind Stranger says, catching you by surprise.

“Are you talking to me?” You ask him, eyebrows raised.

Kind Stranger chuckles, warm and comforting. “Yes, you.”

“Why’d you think that? You a believer in fate? Destiny?”

“More like, I saw your flight information on that paper you dropped, and I knew that I was on the same plane.”

“Oh.” You vastly overestimated Kind Stranger’s psychic abilities.

“What are you going to LA for?” Kind Stranger asks, empty small talk that should keep you occupied for the next ten minutes as the flight attendants reel everyone in and the pilots prepare for takeoff.

“I have a connection,” you explain. “Not staying there for very long. Like an hour.”

Kind Stranger leans in closer, but not enough to freak you out. You still have an entire middle seat between the two of you. “Where to?”

“Seoul.” You’re still somewhat glancing at your phone, mindlessly scrolling through Twitter as you half-listen to what he has to say, trying to seem somewhat engaged in the conversation.

“Really?” Kind Stranger asks in a tone that’s completely different from the one he was using to speak to you a moment ago. “Me too!”

How’s that for destiny?

“Same connection?” You ask, a little more interested with the knowledge that you’ll be seeing Kind Stranger a lot more than you thought.

Kind Stranger hums excitedly in response, and you take it as a yes. “I’m Taehyung.”

Taehyung. His name sounds about as warm and inviting as he is.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Taehyung tells you, hand held out for a friendly shake.

“Nice to meet you too, Taehyung.”

The conversation should end there. It really should, because sitting next to each other on the first of the two flights you share is just a coincidence, meeting someone travelling the same way as you is just a coincidence. But maybe Taehyung doesn’t think that, and perhaps that is the reason why he keeps talking to you.

“So, what are you going to Seoul for?”

“To see a friend for a couple of months,” you explain simply. “You?”

“I have dual-citizenship, so I’m going there to stay for a little while, see some relatives and whatnot.”

Of course, a well-seasoned traveller such as himself would be on this type of flight. It’s probably second nature to him, twenty hours stuck on a cramped little airplane with no leg room.

“Sounds fun,” you comment mindlessly, more stuck in your phone than the chatter.

You hardly notice, but those ten minutes pass and nothing’s happened on the plane, but it’s nothing you should be particularly worried about. Flights are almost always five minutes late, so this shouldn’t be any different. As long as you make your layover, right?

The good news about the doors being shut and the final boarding call being over is that no one has decided to take up residence in the seat between you and Taehyung, the Kind Stranger, giving the both of you extra legroom and a place to store your backpack and other such goodies once you’re in the air. Score. Hopefully, Taehyung isn’t one of those people that takes his shoes and socks off. That’s all you’re asking for.

“Looks like no one’s sitting between us,” Taehyung remarks, taking the words right out of your mouth.

“Guess not.”

“I’m surprised, actually. Normally, flights to LAX are quite packed,” Taehyung says, like you’re any bit interested in what he has to say.

“Do you go to LA often?” You reply, hardly paying him any attention. When Kind Stranger sat down in your aisle, you didn’t expect him to be much of a talker, but Taehyung most definitely enjoys holding conversations with people he barely knows.

“Eh.”

“Eh?”

“I’m all over the place.”

“You never really stick to one spot, do you?” You ask, mildly intrigued in his location-hopping lifestyle.

“Not a fan.”

The conversation sort of comes to a halt after his comment, and you take it as the perfect time to stuff your headphones in your ears, the universal signal for ‘Please Do Not Speak to Me’. If you’re lucky, Taehyung will get the message. He’s a nice guy and all, attractive, too, but you aren’t really looking for a boyfriend on this flight. Maybe another time.

At least Taehyung knows when to shut up and stay in his lane, because when he notices the white wires dangling from your ears, he keeps to himself, resorting to that battered book in the seat pocket in front of him. He dog-ears his pages, you notice. Little creases here and there as he flips through the book. There are notes in the sidelines, words penciled in along the margins, arrows pointing to different words in each paragraph. He’s written things in English and Korean, sometimes switching between the two mid-sentence.

“Have you read this?”

Fuck, he caught you. You might as well just respond, so you don’t seem like an asshole for staring at his book and then staying silent. You take a single headphone out to say something.

“What is it?”

“Slaughterhouse-Five, Vonnegut,” Taehyung says simply, and from the way he speaks, he makes the title sound like this horrifically pretentious novel that rich, educated people read for enjoyment on a lazy day.

“No, I haven’t,” you admit sheepishly, feeling small in the presence of Taehyung, seasoned traveller to bounces from fancy location to fancy location with battered classic novels in his hand.

“It’s eh,” Taehyung tells you, shrugging. “I think Vonnegut’s done better, but no one else believes me. Do you know Vonnegut?”

“I-I don’t read,” you tell him. “Much.” You add on, so you don’t seem completely behind the hipster times.

“'S alright. Reading isn’t for everyone.”

You check the time on your phone. It’s 10:30, and from what you can see out of the window that rests next to Taehyung’s seat, you’ve hardly budged from the gate. That’s alright, though. No need to panic, sometimes planes are just running a little bit late. You have an hour and a half between your two flights, so that’s still plenty of time. The coffee cup that sits on the tray table in front of you has one last sip in it, and you take it before you forget, downing the final bit of your cappuccino before shutting your tray table and stuffing the styrofoam into the seat pocket in front of you. Weirdly enough, that last shot of caffeine does almost nothing for your energy level. If anything, it depletes it, or maybe you’re just coming down from the high, the lack of sleep finally settling in. Your eyelids get heavy and the music blaring in your ears seems to get softer, so you pull your neck pillow from your bag, getting yourself comfortable before shutting your eyes. Maybe you’ll just sleep through this delay, and by the time you wake, you’ll be on your way to LAX. Just a little longer.

“Y/N!”

A jolt.

“Y/N!”

Who the fuck is saying your name?

You open your eyes to an overwhelming brightness, blinking several times before your surroundings come into focus. The main thing that catches your attention is Taehyung, next to you, a large hand on your upper arm as he looks at you, eyes wide. The sun is streaming through the window at an an alarming rate, reflecting off of the tarmac and streaking right into the plane.

“What?” You ask, and your voice comes out muffled and hazy, groggy from however long your nap was.

“It’s nearly 11:30,” Taehyung tells you. “And the American Airlines guy just told everyone they were experiencing a computer glitch in the system and we haven’t even left the gate.”

11:30? Computer glitch? Left the gate? The fuck is going on?

You’re still too sleepy to do your math, but from the way Taehyung is looking at you, sympathy and concern lacing his features, and from the unstoppable sunlight illuminating the aisle, you know this does not bode well.

“That means…” You begin, still trying to process all of this information that Taehyung’s suddenly sprung onto you. “A computer glitch?” You ask, not even finishing your statement as you turn to him, confused. “What happened?”

Taehyung shrugs. He’s moved into the middle seat, now, or maybe he’s been there ever since you fell asleep, but he’s much closer than he used to be, and you’re not even mad about it. At this particular moment, you’re much more concerned with your flights than any sort of invasion of your personal bubble. “I don’t know. The guy just got onto the plane and said that there was some sort of glitch between the flight and the satellite, so we couldn’t take off. Pilot said the same thing too, apologizing for the delay.”

“It’s 11:30 now?” You ask, letting all of the news settle into your mind. It hits you, a freight train slamming into your brain. “Fuck.”

“Fuck is right,” Taehyung says, and now you know you’re both on the same page.

“We’re not gonna make our flight, are we?” You ask, wincing as you curl into yourself, bracing for the worst but hoping for the best.

“I asked, and unless we leave within the next fifteen minutes, we’re toast,” Taehyung tells you, an apologetic smile on his lips.

“We aren’t going to leave in the next fifteen minutes, are we?”

“Not unless American Airlines is just pulling a fast one on us.”

At this approximate time, your old friend by the name of Panic decides to settle in for the night, renting out a room in Hotel Your Brain and getting comfortable in the King-size bed waiting for him. This has never happened to you before. Nothing even somewhat close to this has ever happened before. You’ve never missed a layover flight. You’ve never even taken one before! What the hell are you supposed to do?

“We’re fucked, aren’t we?” You ask Taehyung. “Absolutely, one-hundred percent, totally, completely fucked.”

“We aren’t fucked, Y/N,” Taehyung says, that comforting hand of his rubbing your arm up and down.

God, Jennie’s going to be so worried.

“But we’re going to miss our flight! What do you do if you miss a flight? Where does your luggage go?” You exclaim, brows furrowed.

Taehyung keeps rubbing your arm, voice low and soothing and warm. “We’ll be alright, Y/N. The airline will take care of everything. It’s not your fault we missed our flight.”

“But I was going on a different airline! We both were! What’s Korean Air gonna do for us?”

Taehyung chuckles. “They’ll find us a flight, don’t worry, Y/N.”

You shoot him a pained expression, wrinkles in your forehead.

“Nothing’s going to happen. They’ll find us a flight, they’ll transport our luggage, and we’ll get to Seoul. I promise.” Taehyung moves his hand from where it’s rubbing your upper arm to your open palm, resting it gently atop of it. “Do you trust me?”

You look at him, at Taehyung, who keeps calm under pressure and has a soothing touch on the pads of his fingers, who doesn’t care that he’s going to miss his flight as much as he cares about you missing yours, and you wonder what you have to lose if you do trust him, what you have to gain if you don’t.

You wrap your fingers around his hand, squeezing tightly as you nod, stiff and firm and still a little doubtful. “I trust you.”

When you woke up at five this morning, you didn’t expect to be putting all of your faith in an attractive stranger who travels the world, but then again, nothing’s ever really normal in an airport.

“So, do you live here, or were you just visiting?” You ask Taehyung while the plane still rests on the tarmac, stiff as ever. There’s no point in praying for a miracle now.

Taehyung smiles, pleased to see that you’re picking up on his habits. “Just visiting.”

“For how long?”

“Six weeks.”

“Where were you before that?” You question, paying little attention to the fact that your hands are still stuck tightly together. Neither of you seem very inclined to move, and who cares? It’s nice to have a hand to hold in a time of crisis.

“Michigan. For two weeks. And I was also in Banff, Canada, for a little while before that. And I was in Nice, too.”

“You can speak French?” You ask, eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” Taehyung says hesitantly, “if you count knowing how to say ‘I don’t speak French’ in French.” You giggle at his words, barely resisting the smile that fights its way onto your face. “But it’s fine, because everyone there speaks English anyway.”

“Where do you live, Taehyung?” You ask, curious to see how long the boy’s been travelling. “Where’s your home?”

Taehyung’s lips curl upward in a soft smile, and he leans back into his seat. “My home?” He asks, looking out of the window as if this is some dramatic, wistful scene in a sad movie. “I don’t have one.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t think I do, at least,” he muses. “Mind you, I grew up in Korea, moved to San Francisco age twelve, finished my schooling there. But it’s not my home. Neither of those places are my home.”

“What is?”

“I haven’t found it yet,” Taehyung tells you, and the statement hardly fazes him. You’re bewildered. Surely a man as well-travelled as he would have a bed that he looks forward to collapsing in after a long flight, a place that smells and feels like his own.

“And that’s why you travel?” You ask, connecting the dots. “To find your home?”

Taehyung nods. “Precisely.”

“What are you looking for, though?”

You assume he’ll tell you his standards, somewhere cheap, cozy, with decent plumbing and mildly quiet neighbors, maybe some nice light for the succulents he probably wants to buy, a loft bed and fairy lights and other aesthetically pleasing hipster things you suppose he’s into.

“A person.”

A person?

“Why a person?”

“Because to me, home is more than just a residence. It’s more than my bed, my bathroom, my favorite duvet crumpled up on the floor,” Taehyung says, and he’s so enraptured in what he’s saying that you don’t dare interrupt him. “Home is love, home is comfort, home is feeling grounded when your feet fly off of the Earth. No building could give me that.”

No wonder he’s so well-read.

“And you haven’t found what you’re looking for, yet? You haven’t found your home?” You inquire, voice soft.

Taehyung turns to you, letting you gaze into those chocolate brown eyes, almost matching the shade of his pupil, dark enough for you to see yourself staring back. His eyes crinkle up into crescents as he smiles at you, erasing your reflection without even blinking. “I’m getting there,” he tells you. “I’m almost home.”

There’s silence in wake of those words, the both of you letting the conversation settle like dust after a storm, dew after the rain.

“What about you, lonely traveller?” Taehyung asks, nudging your arm as he breaks the brief quiet. “Where’s your home?”

His question, as simple as they come, renders you speechless. “My home?” You repeat. “I guess I haven’t found mine, either.” You shrug, wracking your brain for a notable person, someone that can be all of the things Taehyung listed, but come up empty.

“That’s okay,” Taehyung says. “Some people don’t even know they’ve lost something until they find it.”

The plane finally kicks off at 12:17, well beyond the allotted hour-and-a-half you gave yourself between flights. This spells out imminent doom, in your opinion, as you wonder what on Earth is going to happen once you touch down at LAX, but Taehyung hardly seems fazed, and he must know loads more about planes than you do.

Taehyung seems to have taken up permanent residence in the middle seat, leaving his perfectly unoccupied as he moves all of his belongings over, getting comfortable. It doesn’t bother you in the slightest, having him so close, especially when, for some reason, he’s this beacon of hope in this absolutely train wreck of a trip.

“You said you were going to Seoul to see a friend,” Taehyung says randomly while you’re in the air. “What friend?”

“Her name is Jennie,” you explain, impressed that he remembered such a minor detail of your previous conversation with him. “We’ve known each other for ages, but she moved to Korea three years ago and I haven’t gotten the chance to go visit.”

“And you guys are close, I take it?”

“Super close. I’ll tell her my deepest, darkest secrets, and she’ll tell me hers.”

“What’s the appeal?” Taehyung asks, and you turn to him, brows furrowed in confusion at what his question might mean. What’s Jennie’s appeal? Is he trying to hit on her, or something? “Like, what’s the appeal of having such a close friend? What do you like about it?”

“What isn’t there to like?” You say as though it’s the most obvious answer in the Milky Way. “I’m not very good with words, but best friends are the light at the end of the tunnel. They’re there for you, and you can count on them whenever you need to. They’re family, without the blood. You love them.”

“I’ve never had a close friend like that,” Taehyung admits, but he doesn’t seem the slightest bit distraught about it. “I’ve always been too busy.”

“But best friends don’t care if you’re busy,” you explain. “Best friends don’t give a fuck about what you do, because they signed up for you, not your life. They’re your best friend because they are willing to wait a million years just to see you. Friendship transcends boundaries.”

“Is Jennie your home, Y/N?” Taehyung wonders. “You love her, don’t you?”

Good question.

“I do,” you nod. “But I think I might still be looking for it.”

All meaningful conversations aside, somewhere along that six hour flight of yours, you fall asleep again. Coffee can only stave off the Sandman for so long. You dream of being on a flight that actually leaves at the designated time, dream of arriving in Seoul exactly as planned and seeing Jennie waving at the passenger pick-up area, a sign in her hands. But the dream doesn’t last very long, or at least, you don’t think it does, because before you know it, your eyes are opening, and you remove your head from something that feels much different than your neck pillow.

“Oh my god!” You exclaim, horrified as Taehyung turns to you, earphones in as he taps his fingers to the beat of the song. “I’m so sorry!”

He takes a single earphone out as he smiles, eyes glancing at the spot on his shoulder where your head was resting mere moments ago. “What, for falling asleep on me?”

You are mortified, especially in front of his nonchalant expression. “I can’t believe I did that, God.”

“It’s no big deal,” Taehyung promises. “We’re almost there, anyway. Only an hour left.”

You take a closer look at his striped shirt. “I drooled on you. Oh my god, I am so sorry. I can never go on an airplane ever again.”

Taehyung chuckles at your shock, shrugging it off like it’s no big deal. “Well, we’ll consider this an exception, considering we’re two strangers who decided to band together in order to find a flight. I think the drool on my shirt is the least of our problems.”

“It looks like an expensive shirt.”

“It is.”

You gasp, mouth dropping open as you fumble to try and come up with something to make it up to him, some sort of consolation. The action makes Taehyung laugh, hearty and fond, as you stutter out another apology, as if that’s going to make things any better.

“Relax, it’s really no big deal,” Taehyung assures you. “Nothing a little OxiClean can’t fix, you know? I bet soap could even do the job.”

“I can never show my face to anyone in public ever again.”

“You’re cute, you know that? When you’re flustered,” Taehyung comments, putting his earphone back in and turning his gaze so that he faces forward, fingers beginning to tap tap tap on the armrest as he bobs his head to the beat. If Taehyung told you that in order to make you less flustered, it didn’t work very well, because not only are you mortified and flustered, you are mortified and flustered with burning cheeks and sweaty hands.

You reach up to turn the fan on high, letting the air blow mildly aggressively in your face in the hopes that it’ll cool you down. There were not very many things you expected from this flight, other than it being on time and it not having much turbulence, but you sure did get a lot of things out of it. And it’s not even over.

For the record, planes landing is way scarier than planes taking off, and no one can tell you otherwise. It’s terrifying, because feeling as if you’re falling is way worse than feeling as if you’re flying. If you’re being honest, you don’t even care if Taehyung makes fun of you for how your grip on his hand tightens as the pilot says in that muffled intercom voice of his: “Flight attendants, please prepare for landing”, because you’re fucking scared. There are so many things that could go wrong now, especially with that computer glitch and all that took up so much of your time in the first place.

“You good?” Taehyung asks as he watches you peer out the window, eyes wide as the ground slowly begins to swallow you up.

“No,” you spit out. “I don’t like it when planes land.”

“Why not?” Taehyung asks, perfectly calm and perfectly unbothered.

“Because I think that the plane’s gonna explode in a pile of fire, that’s why,” you snap. “Now shut up and let me be scared as this goddamn tank hits the tarmac.”

Taehyung doesn’t say another word, not even a cheesy, comforting one, and you’re actually quite glad that he doesn’t. The last thing you want right now is for Taehyung to feel pity for you.

With your eyes screwed shut and your hand clutching onto his, you feel the plane rumble underneath your feet before speeding up rapidly, then steadily slowing down as the momentum lowers. You open your eyes when the plane is doing nothing more than driving around at a leisurely place, and see Taehyung smiling at you, happy and bright.

You’re panting as the plane begins to cruise around, making its way to the gate, blinking quickly as everything comes back into focus.

“Y/N?” Taehyung asks.

You ignore him, still trying to catch your breath.

“Y/N, you, um, you kinda—my hand, uh—”

“Oh!” You exclaim, letting go of his hand suddenly. It’s turned pale from your strong grip, the lack of oxygen tinting his hand a ghostly ash color. “Fuck, I’m really sorry.”

“Do you have a thing for causing me minor inconveniences? Is that a niche of yours?” Taehyung asks cheekily, and from the look on his face you know he means no ill will by saying it. “First the drool, and now this?” He’s shaking his hand in the hopes of getting some color back into it.

“Listen, in my defense, you let me,” you reason. “You brought this onto yourself.”

Taehyung chuckles. “I guess I did. You’re just too irresistible to be denied.”

It looks like Taehyung has a thing for nonchalantly flirty comments, and this one makes your cheeks flare up again, getting you all tongue-tied as he acts like he didn’t just totally schmooze with you.

Soon, the plane begins to clear out and you manage to step into the aisle, reaching up to grab your carry-on from the overhead compartment. Taehyung joins you, stretching his arms up as his hands fumble with yours so he can help you get your bag down, like a gentleman.

Well, sorry to say, you don’t need a gentleman to get a bag from the overhead compartment.

“I got it, I got it,” you insist, elbowing him out the way so you stop holding up the line of people behind you, equally as desperate to get off of the plane. “I don’t need your help.”

You lug the bag down with success and begin making your way down the aisle, Taehyung and his tapping fingers close behind you. When you make it out of the skybridge, breathing in the fresh and mildly dry air of LAX, Taehyung’s pulling you to the side, stopping near a pillar.

“We gotta have a plan,” he decides. “So we can get to Seoul.”

“How the fuck do you plan on doing that?” You reply.

“We need to find an information desk,” Taehyung explains. “Preferably one that works for Korean Air, since they have access to all of the flight information.”

“Alright, you’re the boss,” you say, handing him the metaphorical reigns as you take a sip of the bottle of water you bought back in JFK. You’re so busy swallowing that you hardly notice Taehyung walking off to the nearest map, and you scramble to put your water bottle back and catch up with him, stuffing the plastic in your backpack pocket and scurrying towards him.

“What the hell?” You ask, totally lost at what his thought process is.

“We are in Terminal 4,” Taehyung declares (as if you’re even listening to him), “and we have to get to the TomBradley International Terminal,” his two hands pointing to the different parts on the map. “So we need to look for the shuttle.”

The shuttle? The fuck is going on?

“Alright, let’s find the shuttle,” you decide firmly, a hand gripping the handle of your suitcase as the two of you start walking off.

“Wait, let me check the list of departures,” Taehyung says, pausing in the middle of the airport again. “See if any Korean Air flights are leaving within the next hour.”

You let him go, pulling your suitcase to the opposite side as you watch him through the crowd, looking at him staring up at the electronic board with his hands in those wide dress pants of his. His sunglasses have migrated from the collar of his shirt to behind his ears, perched on them and facing backwards. It’s strange, but he makes it work (quite well, you might add). Not long after, Taehyung is walking back up to you, shrugging.

“Next flight to Incheon isn’t until six,” he says, looking at his empty wrist like there’s a watch there. “And we’ve been set back three hours because of the time zone, so it’s actually not until nine PM Eastern.”

“No wonder my stomach is grumbling,” you comment.

“We’ll get tickets, then get some food at one of those overpriced airport restaurants, okay?” Taehyung suggests as the two of you start walking down the hallway, empty hand finding yours.

“Like a date?”

“Whatever tickles your pickle,” he replies.

Taehyung truly is a master of airports, because while you are one hundred percent lost in the maze of LAX, swarming with businessmen in fancy jackets and celebrities wearing sunglasses inside and hundreds upon thousands of people, Taehyung navigates through them with ease, like he was made to do this. He’s got a hold on your hand the entire time, ensuring that you won’t break away into the crowd as he weaves through the masses. It’s movie-like, how this scene is playing out, a majestic montage with only you two in focus, the rest of the sea of people a hazy blur.

You make it to the shuttle in no time at all, and Taehyung manages to squeeze the both of you onto the one that’s just leaving the terminal as you rush towards it, breezing past baggage claim as you hop on.

“What about our bags, Taehyung?” You ask, concern lacing your features as you think back to the carousel.

“It’s Korean Air’s problem now,” Taehyung says, shrugging. “We’re not supposed to have big bags in the terminals, only the check-in.”

“But—”

“We’ll get our bags, don’t worry,” he promises, a soft hand on your shoulder. “Do you have that slip of paper from the luggage tag?”

You nod.

“You can use that tag to locate your suitcases if they ever get lost, so don’t worry. You’ll get your things,” Taehyung assures you. Truly, an Airport Master.

The next stop the shuttle makes is at the terminal you need, so you and Taehyung shuffle off, apologizing to all of the people you’re both knocking into with your bags. When you step into the building, you’re overwhelmed. If you thought that Terminal 4 was crowded, the TomBradley International Terminal is a storm, and everyone in there seems to know exactly where they’re going. You’re stuck, too scared to jump into the flow of people and inexplicably fuck up somehow, like you know you will.

Taehyung wastes not even a second standing on the cold marble floor before he’s grabbing onto your hand again, pulling you towards the obnoxiously giant circular information desk stamped right in the middle of it all, several workers in fancy blue blazers sitting in it. He tugs you towards them, beelining for the one by the Korean Air brochure sitting on top of the desk, and doesn’t even let you say anything before he starts speaking to them.

You’re not paying much attention to the conversation they’re having—better Taehyung than you talking to them—too busy gaping in awe at the sheer size of the fucking place, how it feels like there’s a person in every open square foot. Parents with kids in strollers, babies in carriers, girls with guitar cases on their backs and boys with cello cases dragging behind them. LAX has everyone and anyone inside of its walls, and your breath gets taken away.

You’re so busy looking around that you don’t notice Taehyung saying your name until he’s grabbing onto your wrist, shaking it like a petulant child.

“Y/N! We can’t get info here, we have to go to the Korean Air desk,” he says, looking at you with his mouth agape slightly. You sneak in one more glance before you turn to him, stupid happy as you relish in the vibe LAX exudes. He smiles at your smile, taking your hand in his as he leads you somewhere else, nodding to the man behind the information desk as you leave.

“You like it here?” Taehyung asks, taking in your amazement.

“I’ve never been in a place like this,” you say.

“Well, I’m glad you like it, because we might be stuck here for a while, you and I,” Taehyung informs you, shrugging. “I dunno how easy it’ll be for us to hop on a flight to Seoul. They’re normally pretty packed.”

“I don’t care how long we stay here,” you say, hardly thinking as you swing your interlocked hands. “As long as I’m with you, I know that we’re okay.”

Eventually, the both of you locate the Korean Air desk, in a small corner of the terminal, two women behind a cramped little desk, typing rapidly on their keyboards.

Taehyung leaves you in one of the waiting areas close by, promising that he’s “got this” and that he’ll “get us both a flight”. Coffee wafts through the terminal, and you catch a whiff of the scent. It’s so tempting, caffeine, after a long day of not a lot of sleep, and to have it right under your nose is just a sin. You suppose Taehyung won’t mind if you come back with two cups of a nice latte to perk the both of you up.

You don’t exactly know how Taehyung likes his coffee, but it’s too late now, because you’ve already got the piping hot styrofoam cups in one hand and your suitcase in the other, and Taehyung’s gonna get some caffeine whether he likes it or not.

You hear him before you start walking towards him. Smooth Korean syllables roll off of his tongue as he speaks to the two women, using hand gestures to get any words across that he may have forgotten after all of these years. It’s a bit creepy, you’ll admit it, though neither of you have many boundaries at this point in your relationship, but you stand back and you watch him speak to the ladies, listening to his mother tongue and basking in it.

“Taehyung,” you call out, approaching him. He turns to you mid-sentence, tired face immediately breaking out into a grin at the sight of you. “I bought lattes.”

“Really?” He asks, switching back to English with ease. “I could use a quick energy boost. Thanks,” he says as you hand him the cup.

“'S what friends are for, right?” You say casually, taking a sip of your own.

“We’re friends?” Taehyung asks, a smirk growing on his face as he brings the styrofoam to his mouth.

“I think that after all we’ve been through together, we can be considered friends,” you decide firmly. “How about it? Your first real adult friend.”

Taehyung smiles, looking up at you with a moustache of foam. “Friends.”

You both take another sip, giggling at the synchronization of it all. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going. The closest open flight to Incheon isn’t until tomorrow morning,” Taehyung says apologetically, knowing that waiting another twelve hours for a goddamn flight is a lot for the both of you. “But I’ve got us seats and there’s no charge. I just need your passport,” he says, and the request clicks in your brain as you shuffle through your disastrous backpack, whipping out the book and handing it to him.

A couple quick scans and exchanges of paper later, you’re standing in front of an empty gate with a boarding pass for a 10:15AM flight, your seat right next to Taehyung’s, though he claims he didn’t do that on purpose.

With your phone in shoved into the back pocket of your jeans and your hands totally occupied, you call out a simple “Hey Siri” and hope it gets the artificially intelligent robot hiding out in your iPhone to wake up. “What’s the time?”

Siri so wonderfully informs you that it is currently 3:52 PM in Pacific Standard Time, but fuck time zones, because time is a social construct and you’re also hungry as hell. No time zone gets to tell you when to eat dinner when the last proper meal you had was a muffin in JFK at eight in the morning, Eastern Standard Time.

“Hungry?” Taehyung asks, practically reading your mind.

“Starving. I could probably eat the Korean Air plane that took off without us.”

“Like Godzilla, only angrier,” Taehyung jokes, making you gasp in mock offense. “I’m kidding. I saw a nice burger and beer joint in this terminal. And I’ve gone to the sushi place in Terminal 2 before, they’re good.”

“Terminal 2?”

“Our flight isn’t until tomorrow morning, Y/N. We got all of the time in the world,” Taehyung declares happily, shooting his arms out like a fan before taking one and wrapping it around your shoulders, the sudden movement making you jump before you find yourself strangely caving in to his touch. “We could go to the fanciest place in the whole of the LAX airport, if you wanted.”

Just then, an idea pops into your head. “I’ve never been to In-n-Out Burger before, you know.”

And this is how you end up eating fast food in a mildly grubby corner of one of the airport’s food courts, ketchup blobs on the side of your lips and all over the paper bag you’re using as a makeshift plate. Very romantic. Taehyung’s not much better, despite his obviously much cooler, hipster vibe. He knows In-n-Out Burger quite well for someone who doesn’t stay in the same place for more than a couple of months, and his order wasn’t particularly, well, neat, to say the least.

So here you are, eating unhealthy burgers in the middle of an airport, and it is the best unofficial official date that you’ve ever had.

“I shou moof back tah LA,” Taehyung says, mouth obnoxiously full of meat and patty. He swallows down the bite in a single go, Adam’s apple bobbing as the food makes its way down his esophagus. “I forgot how good this stuff is.”

“Well,” you ask, coughing to dislodge a piece of pickle that stuck in the back of your throat, “where are you headed to after Seoul?”

Taehyung shrugs, as knowledgeable about the subject as you are. “Who knows? I normally spontaneously visit places, but Seoul is an exception since my relatives are desperate to finally see the real Taehyung in the flesh.”

“What’s been your favorite place to visit?” You ask him, twirling a greasy, salty french fry between your fingers.

“My favorite?” Taehyung asks, and it appears as though the question renders him speechless. He collapses back in his hair, leaning against the plastic, and he thinks, blinking as eyes as though he’s recalling all of the locations he’s been to, all of the bustling cities and obscure farm villages. You half-expect him to say some awfully tourist-y place, a city in Europe or America with overpriced food and pickpockets, but you also half-expect him to tell you the name of a town you’ve never heard of, in the fields with the closest grocery store ten miles out. “I don’t have one.”

“Why not?”

“Every place I visit is so different. There’s good things about all of them, they were places I chose to go to for different reasons.”

“What would make a place your favorite?”

“A memory.”

You look up at him, brows furrowed as your brain registers his words. A memory? Places like Nice, Milan, New York, they’re not memorable? There’s not a single thing that sticks out in that noggin of his?

“What do you mean, ‘a memory’?” You ask, the last bite of your burger lying forgotten on the paper bag. “How could you not find interesting things about the places you’ve been to?”

Taehyung pops a fry into his mouth. “They were interesting, they just weren’t memorable. Places don’t make memories, Y/N, people do.”

“You travel solo,” you state, allowing your mind to connect the dots. “So there’s no one for you to make memories with, yet.”

“Ding ding ding,” Taehyung says, finger pointing up. “But I’ll find my way eventually.”

You both finish up your dinner, taking the last bites of your burgers and scuffling over the fact that Taehyung is a heathen who enjoys dipping his fries in mayonnaise.

“It’s disgusting, Taehyung,” you insist, scrunching your nose up as he takes an obnoxious glob of mayonnaise on his fry, slowly placing it in his mouth and chewing it like he’s doing a slow motion take of what it’s like to eat the last meal you’ll ever consume, and it’s horrendous.

“Sorry, what?” Taehyung asks, a hand up by his ear as he leans in close to you. “I can’t hear you over how good my fries and mayo taste.”

“Get away from me, you abhorrent waffle,” you say, playfully shoving his head back with the palm of your hand. Taehyung chuckles, swallowing down the fry as you pout at him.

“If you hate me and my fries so much, guess we better just leave you to your devices in the middle of an unfamiliar airport,” Taehyung says, whistling innocently as he begins to stand up, reaching down to grab his backpack.

You cross your arms, one step ahead of him. “It’s not gonna work, Taehyung. You’d never leave me here to fend for myself.”

Taehyung smiles fondly at you, sitting back down without a second thought. “You know me so well, Y/N.”

You call Jennie up after dinner, using up the last five percent of your phone battery to break the news to her that your arrival would be delayed by a solid day.

“Wow,” Jennie says, “American Airlines can suck my ass.”

You chuckle at her crass comment, how typical of her. “Mine too,” you say. You glance up, and Taehyung’s several feet away from you, looking at one of those installation pieces that airports have. It’s a bunch of birds, only they’re hanging from wires and look to be made of scrap pieces of metal. “But it’s okay, I’m not alone.”

You can practically see Jennie’s jaw drop to the floor. “'Not alone'? Who are you with?”

“A fellow lost traveller. We had the same connection, and we both missed it, so we just stuck together.”

“What? Why don’t you tell me these things?”

“I’ve kind of been stuck on a plane, Jen!”

“Right, right. Anyway, who is it?”

“Some guy named Taehyung. He looks our age, I think,” you say, gazing towards him once more. He’s stopped looking at the artwork, and has turned his attention on a toddler in a stroller, being pushed by two women. He’s kneeling down on the dirty but somehow sparkling floor, waving his hands around and enchanting the kid. “Maybe younger,” you add.

“Is he cute?”

“Jen!”

“I’m serious! Is he cute and single?”

“He is, yes,” you nod, lips curling upwards as you watch him wave an innocent goodbye to the child, hearts in his eyes. “He’s also rich, or so I think he is.”

“Wow, you really hit the jackpot,” Jennie says, evidently proud. “You gotta date him.”

“I haven’t even known him for more than like, a day and a half!”

“If I were you, I’d be hopping right on that. Don’t waste your opportunities, Y/N!” She scolds, and you don’t even have time to spit out a comeback before she’s hanging up, leaving you stuck responding to static.

Taehyung comes back at that instant, hand joining with yours almost by instinct at this point, and he smiles. “I just met the most adorable kid.”

“Really?”

“He was so cute. He really liked my hair,” Taehyung says, reaching up to grab a strand between his fingers. “Didja call Jennie?”

“Yeah, just… keeping her updated,” you say, electing to omit the part of your conversation with her where she blatantly told you to date him. “In the loop.”

“You wanna go sit down at an empty gate? I think I saw those chairs without the metal armrests, so you could lie down if you want,” Taehyung suggests, another activity to keep you occupied throughout your stay at the LAX airport, stranded until tomorrow morning.

“Sure. I need to charge my phone, anyway,” you agree, because it’s not like you have anything better to do, confined to the walls of this airport.

This agreement eventually ends up with your phone plugged into a pillar a couple feet away as you lie on Taehyung’s lap, watching the ceiling with tired eyes while he plays with your hair with one hand, that battered copy of Slaughterhouse-Five in the other. You must look like such a couple from far away, passersby sneaking quick glances at the domesticity of it all as they make their way to their gates. It doesn’t feel unnatural in the slightest, this position, though you are a bit bored with nothing to look at except a white ceiling.

Taehyung himself seems pretty pleased with the arrangement, two fingers pinching a bit of your locks as he reads the page. When time comes that he has to flip it, his hand will leave your hair for a brief second before immediately returning. His touch is anything but foreign, despite how small it is, and you let yourself get comfortable in the warmth of his lap.

“Don’t you think this is really romantic, how we’re sitting right now?” You ask him, interrupting his thought process as he stares at the page, absorbing the words.

“Who says this has to be romantic?”

“I do. My head is literally in your lap,” you reply. “And you’re playing with my hair.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, removing the book from where it blocks your face, looking down at you with a smile that you can’t decipher.

“No,” you say softly, avoiding his gaze.

“Well, let me be romantic and continue, then,” Taehyung says, turning his focus back to his book.

“Aren’t you at all fazed by this?” You ask, once again making him move the book from his view.

“Fazed by this? Well, for starters, I think it’s pretty obvious I like you.”

That makes you shoot up, knocking your temple right into his jaw, sitting up in the seat next to him as you hear a disconcerting cracking sound. He winces, then groans, a hand shooting up to his chin, rubbing it.

“I can’t seem to stop hurting you, I’m sorry!” You exclaim, powerless as your mind can’t decide what to do next. Taehyung’s eyes are shut tight as he massages his jaw. “Are you alright?”

“I’m probably gonna have a killer bruise tomorrow, but I am A-okay,” Taehyung promises, though, from the looks of it, it looks like he means otherwise. “A little offended by the fact that you feel like you need to keep injuring me.”

“I didn’t mean i—”

“I’m just messing with you, Y/N. It’s alright, I don’t really mind. But you did ruin the romantic mood, if that’s what you were going for,” Taehyung tells you, and that’s what makes your brain shoot back to his confession.

“You…” You begin, pausing as you look at him. “You like me?”

“Are you daft? ‘Course I like you,” Taehyung replies, chuckling as he gauges your reaction. “I thought I’d been pretty clear about it.”

“Well, I mean—”

“You don’t have to like me back, no big,” he tells you casually, like he’s telling you that you don’t have to deliver the container back to him as a neighbor who brings you cookies when you first move in. “Just thought I’d spell it out for you.”

“But I, um,” you say, hand scratching the back of your head, as if it’ll stimulate your brain enough for you to just fucking respond to him. “I think I like you back, if it makes a difference.”

Taehyung smiles, and this time, it’s one that reaches his eyes, makes them turn into crescents at your words. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean—”

“So would you mind if I do this?”

“Do wha—”

Taehyung cuts you off by pressing his lips against yours in a playground kiss, the one you give to that girl in kindergarten that you like. No tongue, no hands. Just lips on lips, soft and gentle and playful. It catches you entirely off guard, making you gasp with his lips atop yours, muffled by the sensation. But you don’t find yourself backing away from the kiss, tensing up and staying stiff. You melt into it, letting him keep his lips on yours for as long as he wants, closing your eyes in the hopes that it’ll intensify the feeling.

As fast as it begins, the kiss ends, and Taehyung’s pulling off of you with a light touch, cheeks watermelon red as he looks at you.

“That,” Taehyung says cheerfully, answering your question.

You’re still dizzy from the kiss, hazy and woozy as you try to collect yourself. “No,” you shrug. “I don’t mind.”

Taehyung beams like a schoolboy confessing to his childhood crush in the hallways, a crushed daisy held tightly in his hands as he holds it out. You’re expecting him to deliver you another kiss, some sort of public display of affection in response, but instead he just leans back in his seat, a gentle hand on your shoulder as he motions for you to lie back down in his lap, and all at once, the both of you are back to the beginning, like the kiss had never happened in the first place. It’s somewhat strange, actually, how Taehyung just kisses you and then resumes his life like nothing’s changed, with fingers back in your hair and his nose stuck in that worn old novel of his, but you have absolutely no objections to having your head in his lap, especially with your burning cheeks as kiss begins to sink in.

Somehow, through the romance of it all, sleep arbitrarily takes over you for the third or fourth or tenth (you’ve lost count) time that day, Taehyung’s lap strangely comfortable despite being a little bony here and there. Taehyung does nothing to stop you, apparently, and you wake up when the only light that your eyes see comes from the fluorescent ones on the ceiling of the airport, the rest of the world a navy blue haze outside. Taehyung has switched from his book to his music, leaving his hands to play with your hair as a full-time job. His lips are curled into a whistle but he’s making no noise other than the sound of his fingers tapping on the railing.

“Awake?” He asks when he looks down and sees your open eyes in place of your soft eyelids.

“Mmm,” you hum, still awakening from your slumber as your hand makes to rub the crusty dusty sleep from the inner corners of your eyes.

“I finished the book,” Taehyung informs you.

“How was it?”

“I can see why people say it’s Vonnegut’s best, but I still don’t believe it.”

“Maybe I should read it, that way you won’t be alone in your opinion,” you offer, reaching a hand up to grab the copy. He immediately wrenches it out of your grasp, holding it up.

“It’s gory,” Taehyung tells you, like that’s enough of an excuse to prevent you from reading the book. “It’s about war.”

“Blah blah, I’m not a dainty little princess, you know,” you say, sneering at him. “I can read a fucking book about war.”

“You’re a princess to me,” Taehyung says fondly, smiling at you again.

You ignore the way your hands begin to sweat, telling yourself that it’s just because it’s suddenly getting warm in the terminal. “Better be a kickass princess.”

“You’re a kickass princess, then,” Taehyung decides. “How about it?”

“Sounds like a dream,” you muse, letting yourself snuggle up to the warmth of his body. “Are we really gonna stay here overnight, Taehyung?”

Taehyung shoots you a shrug from where he’s sitting. “I don’t know,” he says, but almost instantly you can see a lightbulb go off above his head, illuminating itself as he gets an idea. “Wait! Maybe we could stay at the airport hotel.”

“Can we leave the airport?” You ask, sitting up and turning to him with an incredulous look on your face. For the past however many hours, you most definitely thought you were confined to the walls of the airport, forced to sleep on uncomfortable seats at empty gates and eat overpriced airport food.

Taehyung’s paused, looking up as he thinks through the legality and mechanics of the whole idea, his pointer finger moving back and forth as he contemplates. “I think we can. We just have to ask if we need to collect our baggage or not, or go through security and check-in again, and where to leave through so we can reach the hotel.”

The words fly in one ear and immediately exit through the other, and they leave your head spinning as Taehyung is getting himself situated as he stands up, gathering his items and stuffing that old Vonnegut book in his bag.

“Come on, I don’t know how late hotel check-ins go until,” he says, holding out his hand and motioning for you to get up and take it.

You end up back at that big circular information desk in the entrance of the terminal, only this time you’re actively paying attention to what Taehyung’s asking of the man behind the desk.

“Hi, hello, um, I wanted to know if my girlfriend and I could leave the airport and stay at the hotel overnight since we missed our original connection and had a new one scheduled for tomorrow morning?”

Girlfriend? Excuse him?

You smack his arm, confused and shocked at the term, but he waves you off, listening intently to the man’s instructions. Girlfriend who?

“Really? Alright, thank you,” Taehyung says, and you don’t even realize that he’s finishing up his conversation until he’s got a hold of your arm and is pulling you to the side, out of the short line that had formed behind the two of you while he was talking.

“'Girlfriend'? Are you crazy?” You ask, mouth open as you await some deep, meaningful response about love and relationships and titles.

“It was easier than saying 'I wanted to know if this girl whom I’ve only known for like, a day now but really like and I', so yes, 'girlfriend',” Taehyung responds, and he leaves you with your mouth open in some sort of objection to the term, but wordless nonetheless. “Anyway, he said we take the shuttle out of the airport but we don’t have to pick up our bags, since we don’t even know where they are. How’s that for planning?”

“My hero,” you say sardonically, but you begin walking towards the shuttle nonetheless. Taehyung has a thing for pointing at the signs above your heads, the ones that direct lost travellers like yourselves to the right destination, like he needs the reinforcement. At least you don’t have to wrestle with American Airlines to get your larger luggage and you can just leave it at the carry-ons, because you don’t have the time or energy right now to complain to customer service.

You make it onto the shuttle that runs on a loop from the line of hotels to the airport, and since neither of you have a specific preference for which hotel you’d like to stay at, it drops you off at the Hilton a couple of hotels down, staring up at the mass of modern architecture right in front of your eyes.

“Looks like a decent place,” Taehyung comments, and he’s passing you by almost instantly, walking into the hotel with his suitcase littered with stickers from all of the places he’s visited behind him. You follow him mindlessly, your focus immediately drawn to the sheer size of the atrium the hotel has in place of a lobby.

“I can pay for a room, alright?” Taehyung asks, putting your mind back on track. “One night.”

“Pay? No, we can split it, I don’t want you to pay upwards of like, a hundred and fifty just for one night,” you insist, making to grab your wallet from your bag, but Taehyung’s already got you beat, a shiny silver credit card in his hand, taunting you. You knew he was rich.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I want to do this,” Taehyung says, and from the way he says it, voice soft and promising and fond, you know he means it. “You just wait here, sound good?”

He doesn’t give you any second to protest, already bouncing off, waving that sparkly little piece of plastic in between his fingers as he approaches an open hotelier. You sit on one of the pristine leather couches (faux or not faux? The world may never know) and text Jennie an update, letting her know that you’re willingly allowing yourself stay in the same hotel room as Cute Airport Boy, to which she responds with !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and then a ;).

Taehyung comes back holding up a different type of card in his hand, a creamy white hotel card that he gives to you. “Room 318.”

When you arrive at Room 318, Taehyung battles for a good three minutes with the scanner on the door, waving his card back and forth for what must be a hundred times until you eventually shove him out of the way and do it yourself, swiping your card once before the little green light appears on the contraption.

“You’re such a rookie, Taehy—” You begin as you swing the door open, but you immediately cut yourself off at the sight of a single king-sized bed. When you turn to Taehyung with a sneer, he smiles awkwardly, eyebrows raised like it makes it any better.

“Too forward?” He asks, wincing as you step inside. “We don’t actually have to have this bed, if you don’t want. I can go down right now and ask for two doubles, no problem. I was just hoping…” He’s too nice and caring and beautiful and you hate it.

“No, it’s okay, Taehyung,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

“Good, because I am so tired and I don’t feel like doing all the way back down to the lobby,” he says, leaving his suitcase by the wall and collapsing onto the left side of the bed. You follow, equally as exhausted from such an overwhelmingly long day, what with time zones and early awakenings and delays and hand-holding and kisses. The two of you lie there, totally fucking out of it, the only sound in the room your breaths as you catch them.

“Do you still like me?”

You can hear Taehyung chuckle from his position on the other side of the bed. “What are we, kids? I still like you, Y/N.”

“A lot?” You say, ever the child.

“Enough for me to want to kiss you again.”

“Why don’t you?” You ask, turning your head to him. Your arms are both stretched out just enough for your hands to meet in the middle, interlocking fingers.

Taehyung hums, sitting up on the mattress and pulling you with him until you’re both sat cross-legged, facing each other with sleepy smiles etched onto your faces. “Good question,” he muses, and with that the palms of his hands are on your cheeks and he’s drawing you close, soft lips hovering over yours.

“Don’t be a tease,” you whisper, and Taehyung follows your order, connecting the two of you without another second. His lips are hot against yours, and within moments you know this is no schoolboy kiss. This is passion, lust, want wrapped up in a single action, the way he ignites a fire with his mouth, his tongue leaving you absolutely breathless.

It’s not long before the atmosphere begins to turn steamy, heating up with the warmth emanating from your bodies. Taehyung’s already sweating, matted bangs stuck to his forehead, though you’re not much better, wishing to shed yourself of your clothes before anything else happens.

“Lucky you wore a button-down shirt,” you mutter against his lips, smiling as your fingers make to undo the first button. “More time to kiss you.”

“I always plan for the occasion, don’t I?” Taehyung asks back, letting his lips wander ever so slightly off of yours, meeting the skin right by your mouth, your jaw. Once his shirt is off, you let your fingers graze the smooth expanse of golden skin, soft in all of the right places (which is everywhere, mind you). Taehyung’s beautiful in daylight, but in the dim glow of the hotel, the city lights of rest of Los Angeles the only other thing illuminating his body, he’s stunning. “You too,” he whispers, fingers moving from where they’re resting on your cheeks to the hem of your loose t-shirt, tugging on the fabric.

You oblige easily, too easily, honestly, lifting the shirt from your torso as Taehyung’s hands immediately make their way to your covered breasts, fingers dragging over the exposed skin.

“May I?” He asks as he tugs on your bra strap, and you nod, letting him remove your underwear with relative ease before reveling in the sight of you, half-naked in front of him. “You’re so breathtaking,” he says, and the words are strangely foreign coming from his mouth, not the usual ‘you’re beautiful’ that every other person you’ve given the privilege of your nude body to. No, you’re not just beautiful to him, you’re breathtaking. “I’m speechless.”

“For someone speechless, you sure do say a lot,” you say cheekily, your hand pushing him flat on his back with a quiet thud as you rid yourself of your jeans, sticky from sheer sweat, before climbing back on top of him, resting on his legs.

The tent in his own pants is obvious enough at this point, and when you shimmy the rest of his clothes down to mid-thigh, the sight in front of you is mouthwatering. Taehyung’s hot (very much so) and bothered at this point, looking at you like he’s looking up at the ceiling of a planetarium as you take his angry red cock in your hand, stroking it. The sensation causes a gasp, then a swear to leave Taehyung’s lips, tumbling off of his tongue as he sits with his mouth open as you lower yourself towards it. You swirl your tongue over the tip, licking off the pre-cum as you glance up at him, a smile on your face.

“Don’t be a tease,” he says, mimicking your words from before, and, well, if he followed directions then, you might as well follow directions now.

Without a moment to lose, you’re wrapping your lips around his cock, pumping your hand at the base, where you cannot reach with your mouth, and the action has Taehyung writhing underneath you, desperate to savor it but desperate for more. You always love blowing boys, because the feeling of them squirming underneath you empowers you, puts a fire in your bones that’s difficult to extinguish. You continue to bob your head on his cock, your tongue licking up the vein that sticks out, and it has Taehyung gasping for air.

“Stop, stop, I’m gonna come before we can even have the damn sex,” he says, making to sit up and get you off of him. You look up with a mixture of spit and pre-cum all over your mouth, dripping down your chin, and the sight renders him absolutely speechless. “Your turn.”

“Sounds inviting,” you say, letting him hook his fingers under your panties and slide them off of you in one fluid motion, thanks to the sweat you swear is from LA heat rather than this. Taehyung licks his lips at the sight of you, completely and utterly exposed for him, and he dives right in, barely giving you time to breath before his tongue is on your clit, sucking on the bud. “Fuck, oh my god, Taehyung—”

He cuts you off by licking one good stripe up your core, sending shivers down your spine that totally juxtapose the warmth radiating off of your body, a pleasant mix of temperature. Taehyung takes his time, giving you head, not wanting to rush your orgasm when, really, you have all the time in the world. Slowly, he adds his fingers, one by one, coating them in your juices before sliding them into your heat.

“Harder, Taehyung,” you moan out as he’s lazily moving a single digit in and out of you. “Come on, I’m not a baby.”

“Is that so?” Taehyung asks with faux interest, and you sure do get what you ask for, because before you can register it, he’s got three fingers inside of you and he’s pumping them faster, harder. This, joined with his tongue on you, has your climax fast approaching, rushing over you in ocean waves of hazy white, moans that are sure to have your hotel neighbors complaining. “You taste so divine, Y/N. I could eat you out forever.”

“We’ll have to arrange that, then,” you reply, sitting up and collecting yourself as Taehyung hops off the bed for a quick minute to whip a condom out of his suitcase. You snort. “Do you always travel with condoms, Taehyung? Just in case you might have a quickie in the airplane bathroom?”

Taehyung smiles at your intrigue. “No, today’s just my lucky day,” he says as he climbs back on the bed, ripping the condom open with his teeth—an action that has your core wet all over again, for some strange reason—and sliding it onto his cock. “How do you wanna do this?”

“I’m tired,” you tell him, faking a yawn. “Can I lie down?”

“Gonna make me do all of the work, huh?” Taehyung asks, narrowing his eyes as you settle on your back, getting comfortable among the excess of pillows hotels always provide. Now that you’re actually lying down, he can’t object. “Fine, but it’s only because you’re cute.”

You cheer, shooting him a couple of finger guns as he lines himself up at your entrance, the smirk on your face entirely wiped away when he pushes the tip in.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, Taehyung—” You say, swearing as he slides home, then bottoms out. “Oh my god, Taehyung.”

“Say my name again,” Taehyung says as he begins to work up a rhythm, a slow and manageable pace that has you panting nonetheless.

“Taehyung,” you repeat, letting the word melt right off of your tongue. It seems to give him a bit of a confidence boost, because he starts to thrust a bit harder, making you hiccup as you move with him, the wet sounds of pure, unadulterated sex filling the room.

Admittedly, it’s not very long before either of you start nearing your climaxes, the emotion and heat of it all not doing much for your endurance levels. But no matter, because the feeling is all you need, and when Taehyung leans down to connect your lips as he continues to thrust, you’re tumbling right over the edge. There’s something so terribly romantic about kissing during sex, because it signifies that you’re not a hookup, a one night stand. You’re a partner. Taehyung keeps going, mild pain turning into pleasure as he gets sloppier and faster, surefire signs that he’s reaching his release as well, chasing it with a couple more messy thrusts before he empties himself into the condom, the both of you letting out your final moans before he’s pulling out.

Taehyung climbs off of you and disposes of the condom in the hotel trash bin, a barely audible “I’m so sorry in advance, Maid Service” leaving his lips, making you giggle. Ever the romantic.

When the both of you are cleaned up and nestled comfortably in the sheets instead of on top of them, one of you spooning the other though you’re not quite sure who the big one is and who the little one is, Taehyung turns around so he can see your sleepy eyes and hazy grin, and he presses a kiss to your lips.

“Y/N?” He asks, just to make sure you’re paying attention.

“Yes, Taehyung?” You hum, letting your eyes drift shut, desperate to finally get some shut-eye after what might possibly be the longest day of your life.

“I think I found my home.”

Taehyung wakes you up hardly three hours before your flight to Incheon departs, face hovering above yours as he shakes you awake. Normally, you’d find this action cute, but Taehyung’s grip on the side of your arm is rough and unforgiving, and being jolted awake isn’t fun for anyone, especially you.

“Wakey wakey, I can’t offer you eggs or bac-y because we’re at a hotel and I don’t want to pay extra,” Taehyung singsongs, and you actually contemplate throwing a pillow in his face so he can shut up and leave you in peace. He could be the wealthiest, nicest, handsomest man in the world and you’d still hate him if he woke you up in the mornings.

You groan, and not in a sexy way, and turn over so you face away from him, but you should know by now that you won’t be able to get rid of him very easily.

Another rough shake of your body and then the covers are being pulled off of you, and oh, if Taehyung didn’t want to have his neck wringed out before, he’s in for a real damn treat. You sit up, knee deep in your own undereye bags as you look up at him through half-closed eyelids, scowling.

“There’s that pretty face,” Taehyung chides, walking around and collecting his wrinkled clothing, strewn all over the floor as yet another reminder of last night. “Come on, up and at ‘em. We got a flight to catch.”

That’s when the whole thing hits you, and you remember that you are in fact still en route to Seoul to visit Jennie, despite having quite a few… setbacks during the journey. You roll out of bed, letting your body fall on the floor with a whine before you stand up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Why’d you pick such an early flight?” You complain childishly, collecting your clothing in a pile and then throwing it on the bed. You peel your jeans from the lump and put them back on, any changes of clothes currently stuck in limbo in your checked suitcase.

“Because you and I both don’t feel like arriving at Seoul at one in the morning,” Taehyung responds as the two of you try to make the hotel room as neat as possible (though it’s not like you had much to dirty it, anyway). “So, shut up and deal with it. You can sleep more on the flight, anyway. It’s like, thirteen hours.”

Another groan.

When the two of you have at least washed your faces and brushed your teeth, bags packed and ready to do at the doorway, you say goodbye to the hospitality of the Hilton hotel room and leave, the only reminder of your stay here the hotel card in your pocket you know you’ll forget to return. Taehyung resists your protests once more, holding your hand down as he hands the lady behind the counter his shiny credit card before you can do anything to stop him, insisting that “I want to pay for you”. When he gets the receipt, you peck him on the cheek, his skin turning red at the spot of contact, your only thank you to him for such a wonderful night.

You make it to the airport with just over two hours to kill in the line for security, since you’ve already got your boarding passes and LAX is currently responsible for the rest of your belongings, not you. The best part? Taehyung is one of those otherworldly beings with the golden Precheck pass of infinite TSA Precheck, and he insists that you’re not just his girlfriend, but his wife, just so you can scam into the Precheck line with him, waving a taunting goodbye to the people you used to associate yourself with, the mortals. You’d date him just for that Precheck thing, if you’re being completely honest. You don’t even have to take off your shoes. Precheck people live the damn life.

Even so, LAX on a Sunday morning is pretty packed anyway, though you’d bet a good twenty dollars you’d spend the entire two hours in the regular security line, instead of the twenty you do in the Precheck one. You both go through security without any major scuffles, thanks to Taehyung the Airport Master with TSA Precheck, leaving you a solid hour and a half to do, basically, whatever you want.

“I don’t know why you didn’t let me just grab an apple from the hotel restaurant,” you frown as Taehyung pleads for something worthy of your breakfast, since neither of you ate anything before arriving to the airport.

“We need a big breakfast, Y/N. This flight is long as hell,” Taehyung insists as he takes you to some brunch-y looking place near the middle of the terminal, only a couple dozen meters away from security.

“So?” You respond, scrunching up your nose as the hostess leads you towards a table. “They serve lunch.”

“Are you really banking on Korean Airline’s shitty preservative lunch to keep you satiated for thirteen hours?” Taehyung asks, a single eyebrow raised in disappointment. “This place is organic as hell, I’ve been to it before. They’re nice.”

“Tell me, Taehyung, what’s it like to be the most hipster millennial in a five-mile radius?” You say, opening the menu.

Taehyung scoffs. “I’d hardly call myself hipster. Sorry, but do you see a bun in my hair?” He asks, pointing to his hair bun-less head. “We’re in LA, after all. I bet I could find a more hipster-y looking dude in this airport.”

And so begins how you spend the next hour and a half, eating avocado on toast and Eggs Benedict while you point to different dudes around your age in the airport, ranking them based on a scale from ‘I’d rather die than put a ponytail holder in my hair’ to ‘I’m better than you because I listen to more obscure bands than you do’. It’s actually incredibly entertaining, because Taehyung practically psychoanalyzes all the guys that pass buy and relays to you what he believes is their sappy life story about how they didn’t mean to cheat on their partners, and how they couldn’t find their favorite mango slices in Whole Foods, and it has you giggling with egg white on the side of your mouth.

Eventually, after you’ve finished eating the most filling breakfast you’d had in years, Taehyung pays with that silver little card of his and you’re off to your gate, hands held in between the two of you as you navigate through the airport together, acting like Professional LAX Travellers Who Know Where The Fuck They’re Headed. When you reach the gate, the first thing you do is desperately stock up on battery power for your phone, charging your phone and the portable charger you brought just in case, and Taehyung’s portable charger just in case either of your phones need a boost. It is a thirteen hour flight, after all.

You end up resting your head on Taehyung’s shoulder as he whips out yet another battered and bruised classic novel. This one is, from what you can make out through all of the flattened-out crinkles, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and it looks as artsy and aesthetic as Taehyung does.

“Do you like this one more or less than the Vonnegut one?” You ask, looking down at the pages as you point to them. You’re reading the story over his shoulder, only he’s beginning from the middle, so you’re somewhat lost.

“More. Vonnegut is just…” Taehyung says, trailing off and losing his train of thought. “I don’t know. He just doesn’t speak to me as much as Wilde. I feel disconnected from his works.”

“I don’t even know what any of that means,” you admit. “But this book looks nice.”

“I think you say that about every book I read,” Taehyung comments.

“I’m serious! I’ll read this one.”

“Yeah. Uh huh, alright,” Taehyung says, doubtful. “I know you, Y/N. You’re gonna tell me you’ll read this book and then you’re never gonna read it and just Wikipedia the description instead so you seem knowledgeable about the book if-slash-when I ask you about it, interested on your opinion.”

Damn, how can see so well through you? Are you that transparent?

Taehyung seems to read your mind once again, because he taps you on the nose with his pointer finger. “You’re not that difficult to read, Y/N.”

“I didn’t ask for you to psychoanalyze me,” you pout, crossing your arms.

“Neither of us really asked for much on this flight, but we sure did get a lot out of it, didn’t we?” Taehyung asks, and you’re turned towards him just enough for him to plop another kiss on your lips.

You hum fondly in response, smiling stupidly at him. “I guess we did.”

Korean Air really shells out a lot of shit for their international flights, because this is the biggest and fanciest plane that you’ve ever been on. You don’t even have first-class and your jaw is to the floor just looking at the damn section of the airplane. Taehyung has to keep pushing you towards your row since you stop so often in the middle of the aisle, eventually getting the both of you to your little area of two seats.

“They gave me the aisle, but you want it, right?” Taehyung says, holding out his ticket to show you assigned seat.

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” you say, a little shellshocked at the fact that he remembered your preferred seating arrangement so easily.

Taehyung shoves his carry-on into the overhead compartment and scoots in first, reminiscent of when you first officially met on your doomed flight to LAX, and you soon follow, getting yourselves as comfortable as you possibly fucking can on a 13-hour flight.

Immediately as you begin to settle in, Taehyung takes his hand in yours and places them on the armrest, like it’s absolutely perfectly normal for you to be this cool traveller couple.

For some reason, you’re anticipating this flight a lot more than your previous one, and that’s not just because it leaves on time.

Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, Taehyung’s voice pops into your head as you drifting asleep on his shoulder, drool and all.

“I think I found my home,” he had said, and hearing the words again makes you pop your head up as you look at him (and you successfully do not collide with him, so, score).

He turns his head to you at the sudden movement, placing The Picture of Dorian Gray face down in his lap. “Hmm?”

“Did you mean it?”

“I mean and do not mean a lot of things.”

“Am I your home?” You ask him, twiddling your fingers in his hand.

“If the embarrassingly fast beating of my heart is anything to go by, I’d say you are,” Taehyung says, and even though you can’t hear his heart thumping in his cage you know that yours is probably equally as rapid. It always seems to be, when you’re near him. Taehyung is a complete stranger and someone you feel like you’ve known for decades on end all wrapped up in this package of a beautiful face and charming personality, an eccentric man who travels the world and reads only worn and wrinkled books, wearing clothes that are so far from the current fashion trend that he sets the next one.

You didn’t really understand what Taehyung meant by ‘home’ the first time he told you what he was looking for, but sitting with him on another flight, like you’re travelling together for love rather than familiarity, you get it.

“You’re my home, too,” you admit, letting yourself curl into him, the only thing stopping you this outrageous armrest on which your interlocked hands lie.

“I don’t know what it is about you, Y/N, but you make me want to travel the world all over again, revisit the places I’ve been with you in tow, so we can make some real memories,” Taehyung says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you breathe out without hesitation. The words fall off of your lips so easily, like they were always meant for him.

Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, or maybe it was in the LAX airport—though you have a sneaking suspicion it was far before that—you fall in love with seasoned hipster traveller Taehyung, and you couldn’t be more thrilled about your delayed flight.

As the plane lands in another country, your best friend desperately waiting for you at the other side of the airport, you come to the realization that your time with Taehyung is close to ending. You’ve never wanted a delay to come so quickly.

“It feels like I’ve spent a year with you instead of two days, give or take a few hours because time zones,” Taehyung tells you as you walk off of the skybridge, the both of you immediately beelining towards the nearest lavatory. Thirteen hours will do a lot to you, man.

“It feels like I could spend the rest of my life with you, honestly,” you tell him.

It’s difficult to miss Jennie’s beaming face behind the glass door at the exit the leads towards baggage claim, a big paper sign on her hand with your name written on it in lopsided handwriting, and you dart towards her, tugging your suitcase behind you before immediately dropping it as you engulf her in a huge hug.

“I missed you!” She shouts. “What the hell, American Airlines?”

“Me too, Jen,” you say, clutching each other like lifelines. “It’s been so long.”

“Well, we get three months to make up for lost time, so we better not waste any more of it with unnecessary delays,” she says. “Come on, let’s get your bags.”

She begins to walk off, and you turn back to Taehyung, who’s grinning at you. “Aren’t you coming with us, Taehyung?” You hold your open hand out, motioning for Taehyung to take it like he’s done so many times before, and he walks up to you, gleaming in the fluorescence of Incheon International Airport.

When you’ve got your respective bags and a new contact in your phone, you give Taehyung one last kiss, but this one is a promise.

“Text me,” he whispers on your lips. “In three months, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“Wherever?”

“Even if it’s fucking Antarctica, I’ll do it,” he swears. You turn to Jennie, who’s eagerly waiting to show you the world she’s been living in behind you. She gives you a thumbs up that could mean a million different things, but you have a feeling it’s got something to do with Taehyung. Just a hunch, though. Another kiss, and you part, but only temporarily. After all, you both know you’ll meet again. Taehyung glows. “It’s time we made some real memories.”

leave any feedback/requests here and check out my masterlist here!

#bangtanwriters-net #bangtan bookclub #bts writing squad #kwriterskollection #bts smut #taehyung smut #v smut #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #bts scenario #taehyung scenario #bts au #bts oneshot #taehyung oneshot #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #this was so cheesy and soft and long oh my god #but guess what bitch. here it is #w: heart is where the home is

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thebandcampdiaries · 5 years

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Justin Abisror – “Swag Money 3”

Justin Abisror has just released his brand new album “Swag Money 3”.

In this album, the artist has created a dynamic melting pot by playing with a diverse number of genres and styles. This alone makes this record distinctive and unique, as Justin blurs the lines between pop, hip-hop, rap, and electronica.

The first track, “IDK” is a fast-paced track that showcases Justin’s impressive rap flow. The lyrical composition in this number is absolutely engaging. Justin draws the listener in from the very first moment with his tongue in cheek humor and surprising versatility. This track recalls the likes of Kendrick Lamar, Mac Miller, and Tyler, the Creator, to mention but a few rap artists.

“MAYO” (feat. Mothers Talk) is one of the highlights on the record, yet also one of the most explicit. It perfectly embodies Justin’s charisma, humor, and his charged energy. There’s also a nice collaborative effort from Mothers Talk. These two artists have created an electric composition together, reminiscent of The Lonely Island and "Weird Al".

“Justin Abisror” is the perfect end to the record, and features a diverse range of pop culture references and a catchy aesthetic.

“Swag Money 3” is due to be released on October 13th. Check out the link below to keep updated on its release!

http://smarturl.it/JustinAbisror

Don’t forget to follow Justin on his socials to stay tuned for new music, videos, and live shows.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/justin.abisror/

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/justinabisror

ps. We also had the chance to chat with Justin about his music and creative process! Keep reading to learn more.

I love how you manage to render your tracks so personal and organic. Does the melody come first, or do you focus on the beat the most? Answer: I definitely focus on making the best first. It’s very hard for me to write melodies without hearing some sort of a demo beat beforehand. After I hear the beat usually I make a first draft of the song which is horrible, then I see what parts of it I like and what I’d like changed to make it better. Sometimes the melodies end up sounding very similar to other songs I made or songs I’ve heard from other artists and I don’t notice until after a little while. So I try to avoid that as much as I can.

Do you perform live? If so, do you feel more comfortable on a stage or within the walls of the recording studio? Answer: Since I don’t have many fans I don’t perform live because it’s not worth it at this point. But when I released my first album Swag Money, I had a little concert in my backyard. Many of my friends went and put it on their Snapchats, and then people from my school were asking me to have a second show. Since there were more people coming to this one, I had it on the street near my house so it can hold more people. I tried my best to make the shows fun! There was a song called “Masks” and during that song I handed out a mask to everyone in the audience and told them to wear it for that song. For another song called “Wet Noodles”, I bought a 6 pack of ramen noodles and threw them one by one into the audience as the song progressed. Then in the middle of the show I changed into my money jacket. For another song “Moister Than an Oyster” me and my friend got water guns and squirted them all around. Ahh good times. I would love to perform live again but I feel like not many people would actually come. I feel comfortable on stage and when recording, but I’d say it’s two different comfortable. When on stage you already know what you’re going to sing and everything is already planned out (when you give a speech, what to do during each song), and when you’re recording you have no idea what’s going to happen. It’s like a blank canvas.

If you could only pick one song to make a “first impression” on a new listener, which song would you pick and why? Answer: I’d say it really depends on who the person is. I try to get a variety of songs within all 3 of my albums. But I guess if I had to pick one for a generic listener I’d probably go with ASAP. It has elements of rap, pop, and other genres and the lyrics are not dirty at all. It’s an upbeat song (most of mine are though) and it has that sense of sarcasm and humor shown in most of my music.

What does it take to be “innovative” in music? Answer: I feel like innovating is stepping out of that generic box and making your own lane in a genre. Many songs sound similar and use the same formula in other to appeal to the general public or to get more streams and listens. One artist who I think really innovates is a producer named SOPHIE. Her music really sounds like no one else’s, and even though not everyone would be a fan of the style it is definitely different than what anyone else is doing.

Any upcoming release or tour your way?Answer: Probably no tour unless I get really big and get funding/fans for that. I feel like only 3 people from each city would want to see me live at this point. Probably no more releases unless I get really big. I’ve always envisioned Swag Money as being a trilogy, and that’s what it is now. Maybe I’ll do some small releases in the future like another holiday EP or a remix EP, but that’s probably it. But for not solo releases, there is a group called skullhoney I’m currently working in. Can’t say too much about it yet, but the songs are really good so far.

Anywhere online where curious fans can listen to your music and find out more about you?Answer: Yeah they can literally hear my music anywhere. I’m on Apple Music, Spotify, YouTube, and anywhere else people listen to music. To find out more about me is a little harder. But I do post on Instagram and Twitter (you can literally search my name, there aren’t any other Justin Abisror’s that I know of), and sometimes people ask me questions in my YouTube comments (which I do check).

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homoregalis · 7 years

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Ryder Appreciation! Q & A

So, I just finished for the semester, and it’s time to show some freaking Mass Effect love! I know I still have the 30 day challenge I started TWO FREAKING YEARS ago, and I really want to get to that, but I keep having a combination of life, computer crashes, and the like getting in the way. So, for the time, I’m going to answer some ME:A questions about my Ryder! Dunno where these came from, but I’ma answer all of them!

Ryder Character Questions:

1. Your favourite quote

- “I am Pathfinder. Rah bah bah bah!” in response to the Kett guy on Eos getting all lippy on the radio

2. Share a screenshot of your Ryder:

3. Full Name?

- Elizabeth Miriam Ryder

4. Origin/Meaning of the name

- Nothing particularly. Elizabeth and Miriam are both generic abrahamic names

5. How did you come up with the name and why did you chose it?

- Elizabeth is a name that works for anyone, to me at least. It can be high class or working class, royalty or the great unwashed masses, doesn’t matter, it sounds right. Miriam as a middle name was an aesthetic choice, as most last names like Ryder, that are so short, feel like they flow better off of a middle name to me.

6. Did Ellen or Alec chose the name for your Ryder? Or did your Ryder chose the name?

- Ellen. Alec named Scott. Ellen’s side of the family is of European-Canadian extraction, where as Alec is Asian-American having been born and raised on the continental side of the Sierra Nevadas, right in their foothills.

7. What pronouns does your Ryder use?

- Elizabeth has never cared much, but uses traditionally feminine pronouns.

8. Gender identity

- Female, although she doesn’t ascribe any particular meaning to that. She does what she wants, and by definition it’s feminine because she’s female, as far as she’s concerned.

9. Sexuality

- Bisexual, with a preference for female partners.

10. Date and Place of Birth

- 21st April, 2161 in Hong Kong.

11. Manner of Birth (Was Alec there? How long did it take? Were there any complications?)

- Unsurprisingly, Alec was off doing something or other and generally being a distant, if loving, individual. The births were reasonably easy, although Scott required careful rotation to stop him getting tangled in his umbilical

12. First Words?

- “No!” Turns out Ryder developed a distaste for celery at an early age, and wasn’t afraid to tell anyone about it.

13. Is your Ryder the older or younger sibling?

- (In line with ME:A canon) Older, by a few minutes. Although if you asked Scott he’d just say they were twins.

14. Does your Ryder have siblings? (CanonTwin and more)

- Just her and her “little” brother Scott.

15. Zodiac Sign?

- Taurus the bull, in the Year of the rooster.

16. Does your Ryder have a catchphrase?

- Only if cursing under your breath counts. That and, well, she’ll mutter “Funtastic” when she gets frustrating news too, I suppose.

17. Dominant Hand? Or is your Ryder ambidextrous?

- She’s fairly capable of a lot of things with both hands, like shooting or using scissors or the like, but is definitely right-hand dominant, and favours her right hand, particularly for fine tasks, like writing..

18. What does their autograph look like?

- “E. Rsquiggle” is probably the best description.

19. Describe your Ryders handwriting:

- A sloppy pseudo-cursive. She links her letters, but isn’t super consistent, and will not infrequently capitalize words in odd places, especially on words that start with “h”.

20. Height

- 5′ 9″, or about 175 cm.

21. Weight

- 170-185 pounds, or about 77-84 Kg

22. Bloodtype

- A-negative, from her mother’s side.

23. Any birthmarks that stand out?

- she has a couple of noticeable moles, one larger on her right hip, and another just above her right butt-cheek. Both feel consistent with the surrounding skin, and both are quite round in shape, looking like little more than spots of brown skin.

24. Hair (Length, Colour, Does your Ryder change it on different occasions? Describe it, share some screenshots or if you’re an artist maybe draw your Ryder with different hairstyles?)

- She tends to wear it relatively short, especially when on some kind of off-world assignment, but does grow it out in her down time, with it always ending up in a pony tail tied at the base of her skull. Elizabeth thinks it’s really pretty when it’s braided while long, but can only wear it braided if someone does it for her. Her hair is a black colour.

25. Eye Colour

- Green-Brown, leaning towards brown.

26. Do they look like their parents? Are there more resemblances with Ellen, Alec or a completely different relative?

- Scott inherited Ellen’s more Caucasian look. Elizabeth takes after her father, with his Asian ancestry clear in her features.

27. Do they like the way they look? Would they change anything about them if they had the chance? What would they change and why?

- Elizabeth is fairly comfortable with her body. She occasionally wishes she was a little taller, and had a slightly more curvaceous back-side, but generally she rocks what she’s got, and is damn happy to do so.

28. Any scars? How did they get them?

- She has the visible remnant of a well-healed scar on the left side of her face, from damage she got in a fire-fight with Batarian raiders, and a small scar on her lower lip from where a particularly feral street cat swatted at her as a girl.

The burn scar in evidence. The lip scar requires much... closer inspection.

29. Somatotype?

- She doesn’t know or care, and neither do I?

30. Do they wear make up? Are they good at it? Do they apply it for routine or because they have fun doing it?

- Elizabeth will wear a light foundation, and lipstick when on a date, but generally avoids make up else-wise. She’ll rock the messy make-up look for a night at the clubs with the girls though. Day to day, she doesn’t care to wear make up.

An atypical night out, no eyeliner in sight.

31. What’s your Ryders diet like? Did they listen to Lexis advice?

- Growing up with a busy mother and an absentee/distant father, the Ryder twins learned to appreciate Hong Kong’s street food, and often found their selves eating to-go from local restaurants, leading to a healthy life-long obsession with Chinese cuisine. Ryder eats plenty of veggies, usually stir-fried just enough to char at the edges, but be crisp and fresh else-wise, by choice. Lexi was preaching to the choir.

32. Favourite food and is it still available in Andromeda?

- She loves Mapo Dofu, and while soybeans and tofu were a few of the first food crops to be planted, the szechuan pepper is pretty far down the list. She also really likes Char Siu Bao, but they’re hard to come by too. Scallion Pancakes though are on the menu, much to her relief.

33. Weird food combinations they like?

- Mayo on her hot dogs.

34. How is their relationship with food? Do they enjoy cooking and eating or do they just see it as necessary for survival?

- Elizabeth loves cooking, and finds it tremendously cathartic. She also tends to stress eat though, and tries to be mindful of that. But she loves food, and all the attendant cultural and social elements that accompany a good meal.

35. Fitness (Any exercises? Yoga? Working out?)

- Kicking Kett ass, and a good general exercise regime. She enjoys boxing, and spends a lot of time with the punching bag, as well as the exercise bike where she can watch old tv shows.

36. Does your Ryder take any medications?

- She has medication for migraines and and inhaler as needed for asthma.

37. Any allergies?

- She has worse than usual seasonal allergies, and reacts roughly to furry animals when she first meets them. She’s also been chock-full of allergy meds since arriving in Andromeda, with her allergies going into over-drive around all these alien lifeforms.

38. Is your Ryder neuroatypical? How do they deal with it? Did the events in Andromeda affect their mental health in any way? Does your Ryder use stimming methods?

- Elizabeth has ADD/ADHD and suffers from dyslexia. She has a tendency to pace, and to play with her hands, such as touching her finger tips to her thumb in sequence repeatedly, when she’s having an off day.

39. Wardrobe (What clothes does your Ryder prefer? Did they take any clothes with personal history with them to Andromeda?)

- Elizabeth is decidedly a t-shirt/tank top and shorts girl, and took a decent selection of nice every-day cloths with her (well, as nice as luggage space for Andromeda allowed) as well as a pair of high-heels, a nice dress for polite company, and a couple of all purpose skirts She’s not a big bra person, although she has a couple for dressing up, with matching bottoms. She generally favours boyshorts. She also has the Andromeda issued wardrobe of socks (knee length in her case), shoes, trousers, long sleeve shirts and jackets, which keep her covered for the elements, and round out her wardrobe.

40. Any Accessoires they always take with them?

- Elizabeth has a 4,000 year old Asari family heirloom ring, given to her by a close Asari colleague when she got into the Andromeda initiative, so that her Asari friend knew that some part of her family had made it to another galaxy. Elizabeth wears it on a length of paracord around her neck at all times.

41. Stuff they always carry with them? (Nail File, Earbuds, Gum etc)

- A Flashlight. As a child, Elizabeth was particularly uncomfortable in the dark, and Ellen got her a a little pocket flash light so she would always have a light with her. Elizabeth kept it up, although these days her flashlight has a crenelated bezel that could crack a Turian’s face plate.

42. Any piercings/tattoos? When and why did they get them?

- Elizabeth used to have three eye-brow piercings above her right eye, but never wears jewelry on assignments, and so hasn’t worn them in years. She also has a mosaic of inter-connected tattoos on her left shoulder and upper arm, part of an eventual sleeve, documenting major firsts, like the first time she left Earth, the first Prothean dig she joined, and most recently, being one of the first humans to leave the milky way, which she got before they left, figuring they’ll either make it, or die trying, and that no-one would know her hubris if they failed.

43. What’s their hygiene like? Do they shower after every mission?

- Ryder showers daily and does all the usual hygiene maintenance, but otherwise doesn’t go the extra mile. If she’s feeling lazy on a weekend, she’ll just stay in and not worry about showering and all that, but other wise, keeps clean enough.

44. Scent?

- Pretty generic. A little musky when she’s been sweating her skin off doing something, and back when she helped secure digs, she’d often smell of that weired burned-metal/steak smell of hard vacuum, or dusty from spending time in the archaeology labs chatting with her fellow nerds. Out in Andromeda, she’s finding it a nightmare to not have a slight smell of stale sweat everywhere she goes with the long hours she’s spending in her envirosuit, often days at a time.

45. Do they use any perfume/cologne?

- Occasionally a light perfume for more formal occasions, usually something lightly floral, but otherwise, she’s a speed-stick and go kinda gal.

46. Voice?

- A light, pleasant contralto, with a tendency to speak a little sing-songy, her words a little lyrical.

47. Accents/Dialects?

- Her English is generally neutral, the result of spending her early life in Hong Kong, and later in Canada and else where. There are clear hints though of the lingering Hong Kong accent with its subtle British notes. Her Cantonese is clearly from Hong Kong though, and her French sounds mostly Parisian, although it’s clear there’s an outside influence, the result of it being her second language (after her joint mother-tongues of English and Cantonese)

48. Impediments?

- Elizabeth suffers from intermittent stuttering, although a life-time of experience with it has made it much less common in her speech, and it only surfaces as much any more when she’s upset or angry.

49. Are they good at singing?

- Her voice is sweet, but mediocre, although she can just about hold a tune. Much more a sing-along voice than an opera voice.

50. Describe their laughter:

- Elizabeth’s laughter is usually loud and full. Outside of that it could be a snigger, a bark, a chortle, a giggle, a snort, or just about anything, although she tends more towards bursts of full-on belly laughter.

51. Languages?

- English, Cantonese, and French.

52. Did they enjoy their time in school? Were they a good student?

- Elizabeth would have hated school if it wasn’t for her brother Scott being there to make it bearable. They’re both quite smart, but Elizabeth never enjoyed the everyday grind, and was less outgoing than Scott, and so didn’t socialize as much. Having her brother there gave her someone to engage with who was smart enough to keep up, helped her socialize a lot more easily, and made school doable for Elizabeth. Grades wise, she did excellently on tests and papers, but often only did just enough on busy work, and so had good, but not stellar, grades.

53. Do they swear a lot?

- Frequently, yes.

54. Temperament:

- Although prone to anger and frustration, Elizabeth takes pains to be professional and rational in her work, and to give people the benefit of the doubt. She rants and raves in private, but with friends and loved ones takes the time to try and be supportive, and to have patience even when something is trying, not always with success. Professionally she channels her tendency towards anger into righteous indignation and a vengeful zeal to achieve in spite of those who cross her, if at all possible achieving at their expense in the process.

55. Is your Ryder religious? Did the events in Andromeda made your Ryder question their faith?

- Elizabeth says she was “born Atheist”, religion never being a major component of her family life, and she herself never seeing the need for a god in a universe where science, day by day, kept peeling back the boundaries of the unknown. Andromeda just emphasized that, with the speed with which the new mysteries were being solved using good, old fashion, mortal science. One of her favorite quotes is “Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?” by Douglas Adams.

56. Their opinion on politics/political party?

- Elizabeth understands and sympathizes with the Earth-first stances of some parties, believing that the Systems alliance is sometimes too eager to seek the approval of the council. At the same time, she believes that Humanity’s place is as a major member of the Galactic political scene, and that growing ties with other races is essential. She particularly supports growing ties with the Turians, who have been at times the worst critic of and best ally of the Human cause in turn. With many younger Turians, and a fair few veterans of the first contact war, seeming to support closer ties with humanity, who they see in many ways as a kindred species, particularly since Humanity attained a council seat for Commander Shepard’s heroic actions during the attack on the Citadel (to Ryder) only a few years ago, she feels that her instinct towards galactic integration being vindicated. She supports the tight interplanetary trade regulation that the Systems Alliance maintains, on the basis that Human industry such as Hahne-Kedar would get crushed by the likes of the Elkoss Combine or Elanus Risk Control if they had to compete in the Earth Market the same as they do interplanetarily. It would be impossible to establish the high-end market segment they have if they weren’t able to found their sales earnings in human space. Her view is to look at the suffering that globalized deregulation caused to people in the 21st century, and use that as a lesson for future trade and economic policy. Ryder is also generally in favor of greater recognition for member races of the Citadel accords in formal decision making processes, although she supports limiting executive functions to the most populace races out of a pragmatic desire to avoid grid-lock.

57. Morality?

- She tends towards idealism with a healthy leavening of cynicism. She believes that sometime the most virtuous act, the act that causes the least suffering to the innocent, and which most rapidly solves a problem, is the use of force. She supports Alliance military action in the Verge, and proportionate response against Batarian forces and anti-slavery raids into Batarian space, as well as the expansion of the fleet to make it clear to Arahot that Humanity can and will crush them if pressed. So, she’s in the “speak softly, and carry a big stick” school of morality. That you should seek idealistic goals, but do so with an eye towards realism and pragmatism.

58. Assuming the Renegade and Paragon alignment still existed in Andromeda, how would your Ryder react? What would your Ryder chose?

- Broadly Paragon, with a dash of Renegade. Likely more Renegade than Shepard in ME1 or ME3, and about as Renegade as ME2, on account of having to deal with a broader range of galactic society, not just its best and brightest.

59. Etiquette:

- Elizabeth tends to be polite and formal with strangers, but is usually quick to ease up on formality after meeting someone, although the manners never quite go away, even when shit-talking her closest friends.

60. Attitude:

- She has little patience for people who are disingenuous, callous, or generally incapable of pulling their head out their ass and showing common courtesy. Outside of that, she’s fairly laid back and polite.

61. Outlook on life (pre and post andromeda)

- Generally positive. She sees Human space, and the council now that they’ve gone through the shock of Saran’s attack, as moving in the right direction, and she sees the broad appeal of the Andromeda Initiative to be enheartening. Since arriving in Andromeda, she’s felt affirmed in her positivity with the general goodness of people, although she’s angry that the shittiest people seem to gravitate at the top.

62. Any vices?

- Plenty ;) rich food, good quality rum, and Merino wool are just some of the more public.

63. Virtues?

- A very strong sense of right and wrong, and a tendency to give people the benfit of the doubt, as long as they aren’t just trying to save their own skin.

64. Do they live after a specific motto/philosophy?

- Not really?

65. Priorities in life and job:

- Surviving in Andromeda, getting a date with Vetra, and settling down somewhere with a view.

66. What motivates your Ryder?

- A hunger for new horizons and a chance to spread life beyond the paltry borders of our little galaxy.

67. Self Confidence?

- Miles of it, although, not with out doubt.

68. Self Control?

- Enough, although she does stress eat, and can like a drink too much.

69. Self Esteem?

- Lots, although she can feel that failures in her mission are her fault, even when they aren’t, and to take responsibility for things she didn’t have control over.

70. What would absolutely crush your Ryders confidence?

- Nothing, short maybe of getting her team killed.

71. Any quirks?

- I mean, yes. She’s a human, not a Geth. The most notable is that she has intermittent twitches around her eyes, especially her left.

72. Did your Ryder have any hobbies before Andromeda? Are they still able to maintain them on the Tempest? Did they found new things to do?

- Well, archaeology. She also enjoyed gaming, particularly racing and sports games that support split-screen multiplayer so she can thrash Scott.

73. Closet Hobbies

- Light BDSM.

74. Guilty Pleasures

- The occassional Cigarette, cheescake, ecchi manga.

75. Habits

- Always goes to the bathroom first thing after waking up, hates being awake until she’s had some caffeine so she bee-lines for tea, or caffeinated soda, or a caffeinated energy drink. Always hits the exercise bike up before bed to listen or watch something without just sitting on her ass.

76. Desires

- She’s beginning to want to settle down and start a family. Also, on the down-low, she wishes Drack would adopt her as another grand-daughter.

77. Wishes

- She’d like it if the initiative’s textiles equipment would get up and running fully so she could get some summer dresses.

78. Traumas

- Nothing especially. Her Mother’s death, her Father’s death, and her Brother’s injury are the big ones. Being treated a little as an outcast on account of only being part-Asian when she was young in Hong Kong, fitting neither into the local community, not the immigrant community.

79. Worries

- Plenty, but mostly transient.

80. Any nervous ticks? Do they bite their nails, chew their hair? Do they suffer from the shaky leg syndrome?

- Her legs bounce when she’s restless, and she looks around her surroundings a lot more when nervous. If she’s standing, she’ll bounce slightly, but noticeably, on the balls of her feet.

81. Soothers?

- A nice cool bed.

82. Soft Spots

- Kittens. When Turians do that thing with their mandibles. Anyone who cooks.

83. Accomplishments

- Becoming Human Pathfinder. Settling a bunch of colonies. Her work on archaeological digs, and coming the top end of her Alliance class are both points of pride for her.

84. What do they consider their greatest achievement?

- Eos.

85. What do they consider their greatest failure?

- Alec dying. She feels there must have been something more she could do.

86. Earliest Memory?

- Having noodles from a little bowl as a girl at dinner with her mother and brother.

87. Fondest Memory?

- Seeing space for the first time.

88. What are their dreams like?

- Elizabeth rarely dreams, but when she does, her dreams tend to be quite realistic. She does frequently suffer from fever dreams when sick though, and those are quite disorienting.

89. Happiest moment before their departure to Andromeda?

- When she first got deployed to secure a Prothean dig site. The two things that fascinated her as a child were space and the depth of history in the cultures around her, particularly in Hong Kong and, when she studied there, in Paris. She always knew space was going to become part of her life, but finding out she was going to get to reach out and see, first hand, the uncovering of a truly mysterious past in a Prothean ruin, discovering mind-boggling technological wonders that were 50,000 years old already, that really got to her.

90. Happiest moment in Andromeda:

-The first time she returned to Eos and saw it bustling after all the failures that came before.

91. Most valuable possession?

- SAM. She’s bonded with him in a way that’s impossible to describe, and already in the very short time she’s had him, she knows she’d find loosing him unbearable.

92. Do they collect anything?

- Misfit crew members and rocks. Elizabeth loved rocks as a kid, and found them fascinating, and she has ever since. She had to leave most of her collection behind, but smuggled a couple of the choicer small ones along. She didn’t know her father had a special rock until they arrived in Andromeda. Kinda made her feel a little closer to him.

93. Humour?

- Dry, dark, and cynical. The “worse”, often the better, as long as the joke is well crafted.

94. Likes

- I mean, lots of things? Misty rainy days are pretty far up there, as are cool sheets after a long day, and hot cocoa.

95. Dislikes

- Bad manners and disregard for basic niceness.

96. Favourite things in life:

- Perry the Pyjak, because he’s adorable! Also, Kallo and Suvi’s general dorkiness. And how much Drack is a total goober around his grand-daughter. And generally people having a soft and tender side with the ones they care for.

97. Profile:

- She’s an all rounder, and loves using her biotics to blink through things. *Whoosh-pop!*

98. Preferred Weapons:

- A Mattock assault rifle with scope for distance, as a compromise between accuracy, weight, rate of fire, and ammo capacity, giving her both a ranged precision weapon as well as an acceptable weapon for close to medium range engagements if pushed. For closer up, a modified Hurricane submachine gun, and for medium engagements a modified phalanx pistol that auto-fabs explosive charges, allowing her to put a lot of damage down range quickly.

99. Describe their fighting style:

- Again, a bit generalist. In open engagements, she tries to keep her distance and focus from target to target, methodically picking them off, and generally prefers to keep enemies as far away as possible just so she takes fewer hits. In enclosed spaces, or when pushed, she jumps from target to target, using her biotics to throw and yank enemies about, and to generate a barrier so she can close and use her biotics to “melee” opponents, nevermind blinking about the place to disorient the enemy.

100. Speciality:

- Controlled Biotic pulls. She can capture multiple objects, and keep them captured for a long time. While her other skills are decent, her throw especially being quite potent, her skill at capturing objects in a controlled biotic field is a cut above the rest.

101. Favourite Squadmates:

- Vetra and Drack. While she can tolerate the others, she actively enjoys Drack-and-Vetra’s company. She finds Cora preachy, and too serious, to the extent it interferes with her ability to do her job in ‘Liz’s opinion; She finds Liam obnoxious, although generally competent, despite a tendency to not plan ahead; She finds Peebee childish and trying, having little time for her facade of “mystery”; She finds Jaal’s attitude to be superior, his people to be even more prone to blind bigotry than most milky-way races, and their collective assertion that their emotional openness is somehow empowering to be little more than an excuse to emotionally degrade each other without long term consequence, and while it might not be fair to lump Jaal in with his people, his general adherence to defending their stances seems to be unthinking enough to ‘Liz that she feels he’s contributing to culture that is inherently unaccepting of genuine dissent and disagreement.

102. How do they handle the Nomad?

- Like a pro. Elizabeth had extensive experience driving off-road under various planetary conditions with the Alliance, and the act of driving appeals to some nerdy core of her personality that enjoys the precision of the act, the engineering, and the knee quivering power.

103. How do they maintain their sleeping pattern?

- These days, with SAM’s help, although Elizabeth has struggled to maintain regular sleep patterns since childhood, often relying on strict regiments of alarms to wake, and prescribed medicine to sleep.

104. Any traditions they value?

- Far to many to list. While Elizabeth is a forward facing and thinking woman, she recognizes the importance of the past, and is prone to cherishing the small things from it, like analogue time-pieces, and cooking over fire. Particularly important to her are manners, simple basic manners. She feel that in day-to-day life, they take no true effort, and signify a general respect for your fellow beings,

105. Culture?

- Most of Elizabeth’s culture comes from Ellen and Alec’s generally western Earth background, but an early childhood in Hong Kong definitely gave ‘Liz an element of awareness of Asian cultures and history, as well as informing her own worldview and mindset, and she embraces facets of Asian cultures generally, from appreciating the reverence for the natural world in Shinto and the search for inner peace of Buddhism, to things much more simple, like the slight bow that accompanies every “thank you” that passes her lips.

106. Eating Habits:

- Generally healthy, but sometimes too much. Elizabeth has struggled with Stress eating throughout her life.

107. Any pets?

- Just Perry the Pyjak. She had, with her brother, a cat and a dog as a child, the cat in Hong Kong, where a house-pet was more realistic, and a dog in Canada, where the larger suburban environments made walking and playing with a pooch doable.

108. Work Ethic:

- She avoids it when she can, but if something grabs her eye, or will clearly have a real world impact, she’ll work at it efficiently and well.

109. Does your Ryder have a criminal record?

- A couple public intoxication charges from college, an indecent exposure charge, and a few vandalism charges from graffiti as a teen.

110. Degrees?

- Two bachelors, one in Anthropology with emphases in the application of archaeological methods and xeno-anthropological principles, and one in Political Science, with focus on modern galactic relations.

111. Who is your Ryders best friend on the Tempest?

- Kallo.

She find him so easy to talk to, and so nice. To be honest, she has a bit of a crush. Besides, he’s just the best to hug! Most of all, he’s sensitive and patient. He’s the only crew member Elizabeth feel like she doesn’t need to be strong for. It was something about the way he was cheerful and joking from the get go, but always professional. She felt and instant fondness and connection.

112. Does your Ryder have any role models?

- Elizabeth has a fondness for those who pushed frontiers. She always admired Norgay and Hillary for refusing to say who reached the summit first. Also the early astronauts. To her, those kinds of people, often possessed of a surprising humility in contrast to the grandeur of their achievements, people who went to the unknown places to do the notionally undoable are the manifestation of the human spirit.

113. Any heroes and/or mentors?

- Not particularly, although she approves of Commander Shepard’s pioneering course as a Spectre, and her bright optimism in an often cynical galaxy. Elizabeth still remembers when the press photos first released of Shepard’s crew receiving commendations, and how it was so diverse, so different from what anyone suspected. Turian shoulder-to-shoulder with Humans and a Krogan, a Quarian helping the galaxy despite the tremendous mistreatment most received in galactic society, and the Willaim’s sisters, their family name no longer mud because of their forbears, accepting the highest Alliance and Citadel commendations for bravery on behalf of their fallen sister.

114. What is their reputation in Andromeda?

- Broadly positive. She has a reputation for helping those who need it, and not believing any problem is too small. She also has a reputation for crushing the life force out of you with her biotic powers, or burying a bullet in your head from behind a rock outcropping if you get in her way, or cause undue ruckus, or generally want a fight. She’s well brutal to those she considers threats, and the word is spreading.

115. Do they have a strong opinion on pineapples on pizza?

- They do not have a strong opinion, but they approve of people eating what they enjoy. Elizabeth herself rarely has pizzas with pineapple, but doesn’t mind.

116. Ever stole something?

- Nothing important. Strictly speaking she broke galactic law by ferreting away a small Prothean artifact from a dig, a small piece of a shattered and tremendously damaged base relief.

117. Is your Ryder the kind of person to play pranks? If yes, what did they do?

- Not really. Elizabeth more enjoys word play. Although she does occasionally enjoy getting a rise out of people, and can be a little gadflyish

118. Any “classic” movies they love?

- Apollo 13, 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Blasto Movies because they’re like a comedy-action James Bond, and Star Wars Excluding episodes I, XIII, and XIX. Turns out that most galactic cinema is trash. the galaxy lost its shit when Star Wars was re-released for galactic showings, and Elizabeth remembers seeing it in London where it was being shown in the original English, in a theater packed with aliens in the city on business. She swears the Turian ambassador was in the back row.

119. Your Ryder once uploaded a video that went viral. What was it about?

- Biotic gymnastics. She did an Uneven bars set without any bars in full combat gear while on deployment near the verge. Gave her a decent reputation for biotic skill.

120. Describe your Ryder in one vine

- No.

121. What tropes fit your Ryder?

- She feels like a Pint-Sized Powerhouse next to Drack and Vetra, a Brainy Brunette, an Action Girl, a Magic Knight, with Mind Over Matter skills, a real One-Woman Army, who tends towards the cross road of Good Is Not Nice and Good Is Not Soft when someone gets on her bad side. Oh, and she totally has a Violently Protective Girlfriend...

Vetra, in a peaceful moment between murdering Kett and other sundry villains.

122. Favourite Song?

- Just one? Uh, Spirit in the sky by Norman Greenbaum?

123. Do they play music in the nomad?

- Not normally. I mean, in and around the colonies, sure, but out in the wilds? Why play music and ruin the breath-taking awesomeness of the unknown?

#Mass Effect: Andromeda #Fem!Ryder #Ryder #My Ryder #Pathfinder #Pathfinder Ryder #Questions #Answers #Questions and Answers #Q&A #Seriously though Grandpa Drack would be the best can you imagine him dressed up as Santa?

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simomonsiwritings · 7 years

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Venice Biennale review: mediocrity suspended between poles of earnestness and silliness

by John McDonald published on The Sydney Morning Herald, May 20 2017

Ask people to name the most romantic city in the world, and Venice is usually at the top of the list – but there are dissenters. D H Lawrence said Venice was green, slippery and abhorrent, and he didn't even have to contend with the crowds in the Giardini and Arsenale during the opening days of the Venice Biennale.

Every time I find myself standing for an hour in front of a national pavilion waiting to see who-knows-what, I incline a little more towards Lawrence's opinion. Although maybe not the green and slippery bits.

It's universally agreed that queues are a blight and a pestilence, yet every year they seem to get longer. If I were director of the Biennale I'd ban any exhibition that required a queue, but countries are being rewarded for inflicting misery on hapless viewers.

This year the Golden Lion for Best National Participation went to Germany, for Anne Imhof's Faust, a work that was abhorrent in so many ways I'd need another column to cover all the angles. The queue was such that I felt lucky to have waited only 57 minutes. Upon entering, the art was largely invisible.

A false floor of glass had been placed over the real floor, creating a narrow enclosure in which a group of "dancers" undertook various banal actions during a five-hour period. Every new movement sent viewers stampeding to the relevant part of the room. For most of the time the majority of the audience could see nothing at all. I'm sure I wasn't the only one who resented being treated like a laboratory rat, but the psychology of the queue ensures that after having waited for hours to get into the pavilion, viewers will linger in order to justify the time they wasted. In the process they waste even more time.

The first reviews of this excruciating, pretentious non-spectacle made it sound like a life-changing experience. This testifies to another psychological phenomenon: expose a group of arty people to something boring and incomprehensible and they'll swear it was magnificent.

Even the press release for Faust is abhorrent: "Only by forming an association of bodies, only by occupying space can resistance take hold," it croons. "Dualistic conceptions and the frontier between subject and object of capitalism disintegrate…" Und so weiter!

As the buzz of admiration went viral it became inevitable that Germany would pick up the gong, and Anne Imhof be anointed as the Next Big Thing. It was depressing to realise how many people have a masochistic desire to suffer for someone else's art.

Despite its upbeat subtitle – Viva Arte Viva – the 57th Biennale will go down in history as a lump of mediocrity suspended between poles of earnestness and silliness. This year's curator was Christine Macel, of the Centre Pompidou, and her grand scheme was to make a Biennale "designed with artists, by artists and for artists". This sounded like a better plan than making a Biennale with plumbers or parking meter attendants or dentists, but it seemed to disguise the fact that Madame Macel was the one doing the choosing.

To further complicate matters she divided the show into nine "chapters" or "Trans-pavilions". The first was the Pavilion of Artists and Books, the last, the Pavilion of Time and Infinity. By now you probably get the idea: another Biennale with a seemingly random selection of artists veiled in specious rhetoric. A classic combo.

It wasn't easy to follow the logic that could select 120 international artists and come up with barely a hit. There was very little painting to be seen, and this is almost always the sign of a poor show. The curator who can't deal with painting, or believes that painting is adequately represented by Raymond Hains' copies of old Biennale posters, doesn't inspire confidence.

The best things in this year's Biennale lay outside the specially curated central exhibition, in the satellite shows held in museums, and the national pavilions of the 85 countries that came to the party.

For me, nothing was better than Philip Guston and the Poets at the Accademia, an electrifying survey that related the American artist's paintings to the work of D H Lawrence, Wallace Stevens, W B Yeats, T S Eliot and Eugenio Montale. The connections were loose, but Guston's works, from both abstract and figurative periods, felt like the antidote to Macel's curatorial masterplan.

In terms of sheer spectacle, the popular crowd-pleaser was Damien Hirst's Treasures from the Wreck of the Unbelievable, which filled the Palazzo Grassi and the Punta della Dogana with fake artefacts allegedly retrieved from the bottom of the ocean, in a conceit worthy of Jonathan Swift.

Hirst seems to have begun with the idea of making close facsimilies of ancient bric-a-brac including statues, swords, coins, bowls and vases, but soon veered into the realms of parody. Encrusted in painted moulds of coral and barnacles, one could find Goofy, Mickey Mouse, the Elephant Man, and a scene from Walt Disney's The Jungle Book. Among bronze and marble statues of unknown gods and royalty, one recognised figures such as Yo-landi from rap group, Die Antwoord, and Pharrell Williams as a Pharoah.

The scale – and expense – of this exercise was overwhelming, but by the time one had wandered wide-eyed through several rooms of the stuff, it began to feel like the apotheosis of the tourist gift shop. The aesthetic was closer to that of a Hollywood superhero flick than an art gallery, with Hirst as executive producer.

One wonders whether the incipient megalomania of Treasures will alienate viewers who have already grown tired of this artist's relentless commercialism. It's likely that Hirst's impersonation of Cecil B DeMille encouraged Biennale visitors to think more favourably of Anne Imhof's anti-entertainment in the German pavilion.

Hirst was out-of-step with a Biennale in which a majority of exhibits seemed to be concerned with global political problems, generating a large volume of work that was morally admirable and artistically deplorable.

The general ambience might be measured by the number of people displaying the showbag from the Australian Pavilion, which had "indigenous rights" written on one side, and "refugee rights" on the other. It's fortunate that the Australia Council doesn't depend on Peter Dutton for their funding.

Although Tracey Moffatt's My Horizon paid homage to an entire raft of issues her two new photo-sequences had the visual allure of fashion photography. It's an ironic tactic meant to make us think about the squalid truths of racism and dispossession that lie behind the false glamour, but it's easier to swallow political messages when they aren't so beautifully wrapped.

Moffatt's taste for high stylisation and tongue-in-cheek humour may have won her friends in Venice, but it took her in the opposite direction to the obsessive bleakness that won the Golden Lion. Moffatt was too much of a natural comedian in a milieu hankering for a doom-laden philosopher.

There were plenty of other Australian artists showing their work in Venice. A contingent in the group exhibition, Personal Structures, included Reko Rennie, Juan Ford, Chen Ping and Angela Tiatia. Meanwhile, the indefatigable Andrew Rogers drew an impressive crowd when he showed a series of bronze and stainless steel sculptures, titled We Are, at Palazzo Mora. He even got Gerard Vaughan, director of the National Gallery of Australia, to make the opening address.

As this overview can't hope to mention more than a fraction of the work on display in Venice, I'll resort to a few special mentions. Firstly, for the Swiss Pavilion, for a film by Teresa Hubbard and Alexander Birchler on Giacometti's American mistress, Flora Mayo, partly narrated by the sculptor's illegitimate son, now in his 80s. It seems likely that Giacometti never knew about the child who would trace his mother's descent from mid-western wealth and privilege to Parisian Bohemia to a low rent apartment in LA.

Further plaudits for two outlandish shaggy dog stories – George Drivas' Laboratory of Dilemmas, in the Greek pavilion; and The Aalto Natives, by Nathaniel Mellors and Erkka Nissinen, in the Finnish pavilion. Where the former posed as a documentary portrait of a revolutionary biologist, the latter was an extended spoof on the Finnish condition.

There was also a lot to like about Mark Bradford's work in the United States pavilion, where the political messages never detracted from a series of highly tactile abstract paintings and sculptural installations. The Russians too, made an impact, with three dynamic presentations, the most compelling being Grisha Bruskin's white, model-like sculptures – reflections on political power in the form of reliefs and teeming dioramas.

With the world in a state of political confusion it was inevitable that this year's Biennale would rehearse the age-old dilemma as to whether art has the capacity to change our lives or is fated to merely reflect them. At the very least we might expect artists to provide a message of hope, a vision of transcendent beauty, or a sense of humour in an anxious age. It's too easy to mistake bleakness for profundity when what we really want is to be transported, like Alice, to the other side of the mirror.

#notes #venice biennale #la biennale di venezia #biennalearte2017 #review #the sydney morning herald #john mcdonald

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robpoolephotos · 6 years

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RP: Hi Jason, thanks for agreeing to talk to us to start please tell us a bit about yourself.

Hi Robert! Thank you for choosing to interview me! It is an honor to be among those that came before me, especially Jacob Murphy, Nick Mayo, and Wes Boker who over the last year have looked to for inspiration with my own Photographic Art.

Now about me, my name is Jason Brewer, and I am Full-Time IT Professional and Father of two (very soon to be three!) and a Photographer from Wisconsin where I focus on capturing Street, Fine Art, and Documentary Photography. I shoot mostly 35mm and 120mm Film but also shoot digitally on the rare occasions I am asked to capture for Volunteer events (which is something I recently stopped doing).

RP: what inspired you to become a photographer?

I have always been a bit of a shutterbug as a kid. I was regularly taking pictures with my parent’s polaroids, Kodak 110 and Disc Cameras. I didn’t have any close family members that were photographers so because of that; I had joined my High School photo club my senior year to learn more about Photography to take better pictures. However, it didn’t work out well as I quit after a week or two as I was more interested in skateboarding instead and I didn’t feel the drive to pursue it further.

I did keep taking pictures, and I was always interested in capture the mundane and banal things more than anything else especially after seeing the movie “One Hour Photo” with Robin Williams.

It wasn’t until about 20 years later at the end of 2012 and beginning of 2013 that I got serious and took the “Complete Course in Professional Photography” at the New Your Institute of Photography (NYIP) to improve my Photographic skills, and it boosted a love of the Art.

RP: You seem to have a good selection of prints and zines on your site, how important is printing your work to you?

I think it is vital to print your work. I believe we have gotten too far away from the tangible, tactile feel of holding something you created in your hands and being proud of it yourself first before you present it to the world. It feels like we all get caught up looking for instant feedback from others on social media like we are fishing for compliments and approval from others before we feel proud of it ourselves.

Additionally, printing has so many benefits. Two that stand out for me are: 1) Holding the print allows one to focus in on the good, bad, and the ugly of the image to better improve your skills and composition. 2) It helps you sort through a series of pictures by laying them out on the floor or table then physically arranging them together forming a sequence for a Print Project or Zine.

RP: Can you share with us what you’re working on at the moment?

To be honest, too many projects! As a full-time Father and IT Professional, I often have to sacrifice my photography time for work or time with my family. However, I do try to shoot during free time when on work trips or when my family is with me and make it an outing for all of us by combining Family Adventure time with my Photography Project time.

To answer your question though. The current ongoing long-term projects are focused on capturing the small Midwestern Life around where I have lived in a project called “Home Towns.”

I also drive around on weekends to surrounding small farming/pre-WWII industrial towns by documenting their forgotten history left behind by people migrating away from them to larger towns/cities for work in my “Small Town WI” project.

I new project called “Fair View” is one where during the late summers, I try to visit county fairs in the region and capture the people and activities on a Holga 120N.

In all my travels I also try to document smaller things we as humans have left behind but not torn down in a project called “Where We Were.”

Another project I have recently started though challenging my self to do more portrait work of friends and strangers is a project called “People are Strangers.”

Because these projects will go on for a long time and my limited time to shoot is why I created my “Oddments” Zine. This way I can share my projects as I work on them instead of waiting years to create a single complete body of work for each project.

RP: What/who inspires your photography?

Most of my inspiration comes from just wanting to capture what I find interesting around me. I do not have an Art background, and it wasn’t until about two or three years ago that I even heard of photographers like William Eggleston, William Christenberry, Lewis Baltz, Steven Shore, Walker Evens, and Henry Wessel. These photographers (especially Eggleston and Baltz) validated and confirmed that it was OK to shoot the subjects that I typically preferred to shoot growing up!

As far as more contemporary Photographers/Artist that inspire me, there is an even longer list. There are so many great people I have seen in the last couple of years out there that are producing great work both in film and digitally.

If I had to give a top 10 list of people I actively follow, it would be these people:

For color work: Jason Lee (@jasonlee) and Caleb Jenkins (@calebjenkins)

For Black and White: Nick Mayo (@nickexposed), Jacob Murphy (@jacobmurphyphoto), and Simeon Smith (@_simeonsmith)

For proving that I can be a Dadtographer: Matt Day (@mattdayphoto), Wes Bowker (@wesbowker), and Charlie Boucher (@charliewboucher)

For simple amazing cinematic aesthetic: Ken Kornacki (@kenkophoto)

Lastly for inspiring me to no having to choose between shooting only Black and White or Color Films: Sam Cashmore (@samcashmorephoto)

RP: What does photography mean to you?

As a Disabled Veteran, photography has been very therapeutic by allowing me to focus on something in a meditative way that engages my mind to reduce day to day stress when out on photo walks alone or with others.

I am glad I rediscovered my love for the Art and was able to learn not just from attending photography school but also from working with people that have mentored me and helped refine my Art and Vision more. The relationships I have built add to the fulfillment I get from photography and hope they grow along with my skills as a photographer.

RP: What cameras/films do you shoot with and why?

Digitally I shoot Fuji. I have an XT-1 and a few lenses and an X100T with the two adaptor lenses. I love the X100T as it is an unobtrusive street camera for digital shooters. My poor XT-1 has only been used once in the last year and a half; I should sell it in all honesty!

For 35mm film, I currently rotate between a Canon AE-1 and Elan 7e as main cameras. I recently picked up a $3 Yashica Microtec Zoom 70 P&S for a quick walk around camera when at work.

I also have a Holga 120N, FPP Debonaire, and Lubitel 166B for shooting 120mm film. I do love the unpredictability of those cameras when shooting as they produce exciting results!

For future wishlist items, I do hope that someday I can afford to get a better Medium format camera like a Mamiya 7 or 645 for more consistently in everyday work. I also would like to pick up an Olympus XA3 or Rollei 35SE for good pocket shooter to replace the Cheap Yashica.

RP: what’s your main reason for shooting film?

I use to say that fill was better because it slows you down and makes you think about your shots more due to the limited number of frames per roll or for some other reason along those lines that I feel is utter B.S. and a shallow excuse I used to be different than most everyday digital shooters.

In the last couple years I have come to realize, that for me, shooting film has become more about the process of using a type of physical media to capture my subjects versus using a digital sensor. The organic nature of the chemical reaction with the light inside a camera that physically changes the film to create the image has brought about a more profound connection with my Art. The addition of being able to hold the negative before moving on to work on the final image or print adds to the emotional satisfaction of physically holding something you created.

Lastly, and many others have said this too, but the community of film shooters is more welcoming and supportive than most others online!

RP: Any anecdotes you can share from your time as a photographer?

I don’t have any anecdotes or stories that I can tell. I have had it pretty easy for taking pictures of strangers. I have no problem just going up and asking, or if I can’t ask first, I say thank you or smile at them and wave in a friendly manner afterward. I try to be as non-confrontational as possible and talk to people I shoot when I can.

A tip I learned from Scott Kelby to make it easier when people seem like they are about to confront you is to keep a 10 to 15 Page Photo book on you that you created. Pick 10-15 images, upload them to Blurb and order a cheap book with a title and your name on it. When someone wants to know why you took a picture, you show them the book and tell them about the photo projects you are working on while letting them look through the book. Doing this often disarms the person and starts a conversation with them.

Additionally, take time get the person’s name and address or social media info and then send them a 5×7 print or tag them in your feed as a thank you for letting you take the picture! People will appreciate it.

I carry a proof copy of my first Zine in my bag just for this reason, and it has helped me get shots or keep shots more often than not when people have looked through it and talked with me about it.

RP: What are you looking for in a photo?

With most of the subjects I capture, I want to evoke an emotional response and curiosity in the viewer, but it doesn’t have to be the same emotion that drove me to capture the image. I like giving the viewer room for their interpretations and meanings to be assigned to the pieces I present. We come from such varied backgrounds and experiences, so by allowing them to attach their context, I as the artist get to collaborate with my viewers.

RP: Biggest regret relating to photography?

Getting caught up in G.A.S. (Gear Aquisition Syndrom) and buying too much digital equipment before I thoroughly knew what I wanted or genuinely liked to photograph. I wanted to try it all and be ready for anything, but in the end, it was just a waste of money that I will never get back.

RP: Any closing comments?

Just go out and shoot, make Art for yourself of the things that capture your attention and peek your curiosity.

If you are starting out in photography, fight getting G.A.S. Start with only one body and one or two lenses only. You will be amazed what you can create with a simple set-up!

Go out and meet people to ask your questions, stop using Google and YouTube (Sorry Matt & Nick!). Reach out to people via DM on Instagram or Twitter in your local area and go meet people at a Meetup!

Thank you again, Robert, for this opportunity to share my thoughts through this interview! I appreciate the work you put into these and have enjoyed reading about others that you interviewed!

Lastly, want to give a big Thank You to everyone that bought a Zine or Print since my shop went up last November! I still have a few Zines and Prints left for sale if anyone is interested at reduced prices.

Social Media Links:

Website: https://www.jasonbrewerphotography.com/

IG: https://www.instagram.com/jasonebrewer/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/jasonebrewer

FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/jasonbrewerphoto/

In Conversation with Jason Brewer RP: Hi Jason, thanks for agreeing to talk to us to start please tell us a bit about yourself.

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bizmediaweb · 6 years

Text

Snapchat, Instagram Stories, or Facebook Stories—Which is Right For You?

It’s hard to remember a time before they were everywhere, but long ago in Internet time, there was only one name associated with disappearing video: Snapchat.

In 2016 (five years after Snapchat), Instagram got in on the game, adding Stories to their platform with filters, stickers, and text overlay. And in 2017, their parent company Facebook rolled out Stories of its own, with unique filters and the option to crosspost between platforms.

The videos may disappear, but the format is now everywhere, offering rapid-fire cycles of possibility. The only question that remains is, which platforms make the most sense for your brand?

Snapchat

It wins among younger audiences

Let’s start with the OG. Snapchat is beloved by users of all ages, but it’s especially popular with Generation Z. Seventy-nine percent of US teens have a Snapchat account, and they rate Snapchat as their favorite platform.

Compare that to the two percent of Baby Boomers who use Snapchat, and this platform starts to look like the fountain of eternal youth. As other platforms struggle to hang on to their younger users, Snapchat is still growing in popularity with this demographic.

Its users are highly engaged

Snapchat users watch over 10 billion videos each day and send more than 3.5 billion Snaps. One hundred and eighty-seven million daily active users spend about half an hour each day on Snapchat, and open the app about 25 times per day.

It’s harder to use, but that makes it cooler

Part of the appeal of Snapchat is its secret-handshake nature—it can be deliberately confusing, but that’s why users love it. It also offers a lot of features, though they’re not always easy to find. But that means brands who can navigate the app acquire an instant cool factor. It’s kind of like getting your motorcycle license, but for social media.

It’s all about spontaneity

Snapchat’s ethos is authenticity and openness – compared to other platforms, it’s more spontaneous and raw. That’s what draws users in, especially younger audiences, who are resistant to traditional advertising methods.

As a result, brands who use Snapchat to go behind-the-scenes can build loyal followings from users who are as interested in people and process as they are in the finished product.

Everlane, an apparel startup committed to “radical transparency”, grew their audience through a conversational, candid Snap series called #TransparencyTuesdays, where they answered questions and shared product insights and previews.

And playfulness

Geofilters are custom frames that show up for users who take a Snap in a certain location—this can be an entire country, for major campaigns. They’re a major investment, with a price tag in the six figures, but country-wide Geofilters typically reach 40-60% of all daily Snapchat users, offering massive exposure.

Sponsored Lenses are face-altering filters that users can add to their Snaps, to share your branded content with their following. Taco Bell smashed records last year when they released a Cinco de Mayo filter that turned users into tacos, which was viewed 224 million times in a single day.

Got tacos on your mind today? Us too. Snap us your Cinco de Mayo celebrations using our @Snapchat lens today.https://t.co/56BlMUqlkV

— Taco Bell (@tacobell) May 6, 2016

Brands that stand out on Snapchat find a way to harness the platform’s spirit of playfulness to capture users’ attention. I mean, who wouldn’t want to look like a taco? That’s part of the genius of Snapchat: to stand out, you just need a great idea that no one can resist.

Ads perform well

Snap Ads are sponsored, 10-second videos that appear in between Snaps—entice users to swipe up and view longer content or visit a website. Ads perform well on Snapchat, pulling in more visual attention than any other social media platform.

The timeline prioritizes friends over brands

In January 2018, Snapchat rolled out a major update that radically transformed the app.

And the reception has not always been warm. A tweet begging for its reversal has been retweeted more than 1.4 million times, and a petition to scrap it has a million signatures and counting. Despite the backlash, Snapchat CEO Evan Spiegel insists that the update is here to stay—so there’s no time like the present to leap in and learn to swim.

The biggest change for users: splitting Snaps into two feeds. Prior to the update, users could watch Snaps in one stream. Now, feeds are split into “Friends” (for users who follow you back) and “Discover” (for everyone else—including publishers, celebrities, and content creators).

What this means for companies is their Snaps will no longer appear in the same feed as their followers’ personal friends, likely resulting in less exposure. One way around this is to follow your audience back, but even then your Snaps will likely sink to the bottom of their feeds. The new Snapchat timeline is also algorithmic, pushing friends who interact frequently with a user to the top of their feed.

However, the update also came with a new opportunity for companies to share sponsored content, with Promoted Stories. These allow companies to push their Stories to more users and appear on the Discover screen, reaching new audiences beyond their followers.

Oh, and don’t worry about missing the opportunity to captivate audiences with your take on the taco filter. The update didn’t impact branded content like Geofilters and Sponsored Lenses, which will still reach users exactly the same way.

Instagram Stories

Contrary to stereotypes about middle children, the middle child of the disappearing stories family gets plenty of attention.

Instagram already had a massive user base in 2016, but Stories were like the Nos in The Fast & the Furious. When they launched, they gave users an incentive to check the platform daily and catch all those disappearing videos, increasing time spent on the app to around half an hour each day.

Users skew young, but not as young as Snapchat

More than 500 million Instagram users open the app every day, and 300 million of them are watching Stories daily. Like Snapchat, Instagram skews young—60 percent of users are under 30—but it also includes more older users as well, with one-third of 30-49 year olds using the app.

Instagram Stories share a lot in common with Snapchat Stories

After unveiling Stories, users and brands who had previously used Snapchat for candid videos and Instagram for curated content had both in one place. And brands had the same opportunity. Remember Everlane’s #TransparencyTuesdays? Those can now be found on their Instagram Stories.

Outdoor Voices, which makes workout clothes that fashionable people love, use their Stories to share videos of brand ambassadors #DoingThings outdoors, and approachable fitness tutorials that showcase products while inspiring followers to get active.

Instagram Stories have a lot in common with Snapchat. They also offer face filters that can flatter you with Photoshop-like effects, or make you look like a sea witch or a bunny rabbit (to name a few). Users can also add stickers, text, and recently (to the great delight of the meme-loving masses) GIFs to their stories.

If you thought that a Story was good before, just wait until you add a dancing cat GIF to it.

They are sorted according to an algorithm

Stories from people and brands that users follow show up in a row at the top of the Home feed, sorted algorithmically. A “Discover” tab includes branded content and promoted stories, featuring trending content and videos tailored to users’ interests. As with Snapchat, brands can promote their stories or create ads to reach more users, as well as share all their Stories with their followers.

They can drive direct traffic

Instagram Stories also offer a few special features that set it apart. For instance, brands have the option of adding links to their Stories, which direct users to an external URL after they swipe up and provides a ton of opportunity to drive traffic and engagement. Prior to adding this feature, brands could only have one link in their bio, and couldn’t include functional links in the photos and videos posted to their feed.

They get engagement

Creating a Story is not only easy, but effective: one in five Stories generate a direct message from followers.

Stories also have the uniquely engaging “Polls” feature, which lets viewers vote between two options.

Brands who excel at Stories know how to use these engaging features to keep users coming back – not just to watch, but to join in the conversation and feel like they’re part of an insider community.

The beauty startup Glossier built their following on Instagram by creating a mood board of images, each garnering thousands of likes, before they had even released their first product (they also raised $24 million dollars). They use Stories to engage with their followers, by offering sneak previews of new products, customer Q&As, and introducing the people behind the brand. But they also maintain their dreamy aesthetic, with Stories that are as Millennial-pink and Pinterest-worthy as their main feed, reinforcing their brand values of accessible beauty and casual luxury.

They have a non-disappearing option

“Story Highlights” allow users to pin Stories to the top of their feed. Unlike regular Stories, which disappear after a day as expected, these ones stick around for as long as they’re pinned.

Story Highlights are perfect for showing off your top performing Stories, latest products, biggest announcements, and the spirit of your brand.

They can be viewed on desktop

Even though Instagram is designed for mobile use, users who are looking you up on their computers instead of their phones can now also watch your stories, effectively increasing visibility. You still can’t upload from the desktop version, but given Instagram’s track record of giving the people what they want, that may not be the case forever.

Facebook Stories

Facebook is the blue whale of social media platforms, with a staggering 1.4 billion (!) daily active users, and 2 billion monthly users. In the U.S., the number of adults on Facebook (68 percent) is about the same as Instagram (35 percent) and Snapchat (27 percent) combined.

Facebook launched their Stories in March 2017, replacing a similar feature called Messenger Day with a more obvious parallel to their Instagram offering.

The two platforms share more in common than just the name. Facebook Stories also mirrors the placement of Stories (above the main newsfeed) and the camera to record them (top-left corner). It’s instantly familiar for anyone who’s used Instagram. So it’s a bit surprising that it hasn’t quite taken off—yet.

Facebook has the largest audience

Facebook hasn’t yet released numbers for how many users are sharing and viewing Stories, but anyone who looks to see how many of their own friends are posting them will likely arrive at the same conclusion: it’s not nearly as popular as Instagram Stories.

The slow uptake might lie in Facebook’s audience demographics, and how they use the platform. Everyone really is on Facebook: 76 percent of teens (ages 12-19) have a profile, but so do 62 percent of their grandparents (adults over 65). As a result, some younger users think Facebook is for old people. They’re using it to message their friends and watch videos, but not to discover content or follow brands the way they do on other channels.

For older users, who are less likely to be on Instagram and Snapchat, the Stories format isn’t second nature. They may just not be creating and engaging with this form of content yet.

It’s a blank slate of potential for brands

Stories may be slower to take off on Facebook than they were on Instagram, but this platform has nothing but potential. It’s a blank slate with great opportunities – and Facebook has been clear that they’re committed to the success of Stories, so we can expect they’ll keep rolling out features to improve ease of use and visibility. And Company Pages only got access to Stories in October 2017, so it’s still a brand new field of dreams.

It’s not limited to one platform

Why should you be posting to Stories? For starters, Facebook has the best ROI of any social media platform, according to 96% of social marketers. Facebook Stories can be integrated with other high-performing ad opportunities on Facebook, like promoted videos and posts in the Newsfeed.

And since you can cross-post your Instagram Stories directly to Facebook Stories without any extra effort, why wouldn’t you? Cross-posting isn’t always a good idea, but given that your Stories will translate perfectly to each platform, it’s worth testing.

It’s an opportunity to bypass the algorithm

Facebook Stories also presents a new opportunity to bring users to your Page. Many brands have noticed declining engagement since Facebook prioritized personal connections in their algorithm. But the Stories feed could be a way to reconnect with users who aren’t seeing your content in their Newsfeed the same way.

Your friends may not be posting there yet, but some companies are already using Facebook Stories with great results. Paddington 2, the surprisingly popular sequel to a movie about a bear in London, launched a Facebook Stories campaign with a Paddington filter that let viewers try on his stylish outfit (listen, a duffle coat and floppy hat counts as stylish for a bear, okay?)

Viewers also saw Stories of other Paddington characters, as well as iconic sets. This was a perfect fit for Facebook: a family-friendly movie on a multi-generational platform, showing off the most fun features in the app. The result: a three-point increase in awareness of the movie, and intention to watch.

Another example is Japan’s Kao beauty company, which used Stories as well as other Facebook ad placements to launch their Pyuan haircare line. Targeted to women in their 20s (the largest demographic on Facebook), Kao focused on short, high-quality videos tailored to the short attention spans and discerning tastes of their demographic. The strategy resulted in a 10-point increase in brand awareness.

There are opportunities for user-generated content

Facebook is determined to make their Stories more than just a clone of Instagram, and recently unveiled their first truly unique opportunity for brands to take advantage of the platform: Group Stories.

Group Stories allow anyone attending an event on Facebook to contribute to a Story roll, hosted on the Event page and visible in the Stories feed. Event administrators can moderate Stories and approve them. For companies concerned about the wild-west nature of other platforms, this is a reassuring mechanism. If your company hosts events, whether in person or virtually, Group Stories is a new opportunity to promote them and engage with your followers.

Which platform is right for you?

Keep your brand values and goals in mind: are you willing to be casual, informal, and offer candid insights? Do you prefer to keep things polished? Do you want to reach people of all ages? These questions can help you narrow down which Stories platform makes the most sense for you.

Also think about which features excite you most and fit the best with your content strategy. Do you want your audience to weigh in on new products? Try a poll in Instagram Stories. Hosting a launch party? Use Facebook’s Group Stories to engage attendees. Want to gain awareness among younger audiences? Try a Snapchat Sponsored Filter.

The important thing is to take advantage of the full menu of options when you try out a platform. Users get excited about new features as much as you do, so don’t leave them out when considering your strategy.

v Test out an idea on all three, and see where it performs best. Compare engagement rates and views. Many brands had success by rolling their Snapchat strategy over to Instagram, and others will find that cross-posting on Instagram and Facebook yields results.

Whatever you try, there’s one thing you should always keep in mind: users are savvy. If you make content that’s not true to your brand voice and identity, your followers will unfollow. Filters and stickers aside, videos let you build real connections with viewers and keep them engaged with authentic, insightful content.

Show off what makes your brand special and unique (you might surprise people!). That’s what your audience wants to see. Throwing a dancing cat GIF in the mix? That’s just the icing on the cake.

Connect with your audience using Hootsuite. Easily manage your social channels and engage followers across networks from a single dashboard. Try it free today.

Get Started

The post Snapchat, Instagram Stories, or Facebook Stories—Which is Right For You? appeared first on Hootsuite Social Media Management.

Snapchat, Instagram Stories, or Facebook Stories—Which is Right For You? published first on https://themarketingheaven.tumblr.com/

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unifiedsocialblog · 6 years

Text

Snapchat, Instagram Stories, or Facebook Stories—Which is Right For You?

It’s hard to remember a time before they were everywhere, but long ago in Internet time, there was only one name associated with disappearing video: Snapchat.

The videos may disappear, but the format is now everywhere, offering rapid-fire cycles of possibility. The only question that remains is, which platforms make the most sense for your brand?

Snapchat

It wins among younger audiences

Its users are highly engaged

It’s harder to use, but that makes it cooler

It’s all about spontaneity

As a result, brands who use Snapchat to go behind-the-scenes can build loyal followings from users who are as interested in people and process as they are in the finished product.

And playfulness

Got tacos on your mind today? Us too. Snap us your Cinco de Mayo celebrations using our @Snapchat lens today.https://t.co/56BlMUqlkV

— Taco Bell (@tacobell) May 6, 2016

Ads perform well

The timeline prioritizes friends over brands

In January 2018, Snapchat rolled out a major update that radically transformed the app.

Instagram Stories

Contrary to stereotypes about middle children, the middle child of the disappearing stories family gets plenty of attention.

Users skew young, but not as young as Snapchat

Instagram Stories share a lot in common with Snapchat Stories

If you thought that a Story was good before, just wait until you add a dancing cat GIF to it.

They are sorted according to an algorithm

They can drive direct traffic

They get engagement

Creating a Story is not only easy, but effective: one in five Stories generate a direct message from followers.

Stories also have the uniquely engaging “Polls” feature, which lets viewers vote between two options.

They have a non-disappearing option

“Story Highlights” allow users to pin Stories to the top of their feed. Unlike regular Stories, which disappear after a day as expected, these ones stick around for as long as they’re pinned.

Story Highlights are perfect for showing off your top performing Stories, latest products, biggest announcements, and the spirit of your brand.

They can be viewed on desktop

Facebook Stories

Facebook launched their Stories in March 2017, replacing a similar feature called Messenger Day with a more obvious parallel to their Instagram offering.

Facebook has the largest audience

For older users, who are less likely to be on Instagram and Snapchat, the Stories format isn’t second nature. They may just not be creating and engaging with this form of content yet.

It’s a blank slate of potential for brands

It’s not limited to one platform

It’s an opportunity to bypass the algorithm

There are opportunities for user-generated content

Which platform is right for you?

Show off what makes your brand special and unique (you might surprise people!). That’s what your audience wants to see. Throwing a dancing cat GIF in the mix? That’s just the icing on the cake.

Connect with your audience using Hootsuite. Easily manage your social channels and engage followers across networks from a single dashboard. Try it free today.

Get Started

The post Snapchat, Instagram Stories, or Facebook Stories—Which is Right For You? appeared first on Hootsuite Social Media Management.

Snapchat, Instagram Stories, or Facebook Stories—Which is Right For You? published first on https://getfblike.tumblr.com/

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letsturnandburn · 3 years

Photo

New Muses!

Zack Mayo and Casey Seeger. Two young adults with the dream to make it through Naval Cadet Training. But first, they have to make it past Gunnery Sergeant Foley.

You can read more about them/their life stories here: Sit, Adjust, Pray, Attack

For now, I’ll be placing all tags related to these new muses on this post. Feel free to look at those too!

#I Got No Where Else To Go (Mayo Aesthetic)#I Never Had A Girl (Zack/Paula or Cross-Ship)#...To Expose Your Weakness As A Potential Aviator And Human Being (Mayo Writing Aesthetic)#Wouldn't Mind Being The First Woman To Fly Fighters In Combat (Seeger Aesthetic)#You Ain't Getting Out Of Here Until You Get Over That Wall Seeger (Seeger Writing Aesthetic)#Should Have Warned You Scuzzy Female Types About The Puget Dudes (Shipping Seeger)#Talking In The Ranks (OOC)

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