#and for the aforementioned reasons no research has ever turned up any answers and we don't even know WHY there are no answers

[destinyandcoins]

you know i really do admire and i am jealous of how easy it was a century ago to just drop off the face of the earth and assume a new identity; move three counties away and start calling yourself by a different name and all of a sudden you are a brand new person and quite literally no one would ever know, then or now. on the other hand, being someone who is 92 years removed from the situation and trying to put together the puzzle is endlessly frustrating and the mystery will haunt me for the rest of my days

#personal #misc #my grandpa's father vanished when he was like 11 and idk if he left like abandoned the family #or left and something happened so he couldn't come back. or left and just straight up died #it was also like six months before the great depression hit. or he could have left his family because he just wasn't up for having a family #but the man was also a fur trapper so he could legitimately just have had an accident and died #like could have died while traveling and no one knew who he was to record his name or could have died in the woods of a bear attack #OR he could have just fucked off because he couldn't provide for his family during the depression #OR have been trying to find a way to support them #literally no one knows and if anyone DID know they didn't cough up any more details and are now dead themselves #and for the aforementioned reasons no research has ever turned up any answers and we don't even know WHY there are no answers #file this under #things that make me wish i had a time machine #is this how the FBI feels about db cooper #but also if given the chance i WOULD drop off the face of the earth and start a new identity this one is no good

[cupofteaguk]

on the road (to you)

summary: as a young adult, one of the strangest revelations is the discovery that peers of yours from past fragile college years are getting married. so imagine your shock and excitement upon receiving a wedding invitation. there are, however, two problems: (1) you are a poor early-20s recently employed adult just beginning to adjust to your 401k plan, and (2) the only available ride to the wedding comes in the form of Jeon Jungkook—friend of a friend, attendee to that aforementioned wedding, and your old college crush. 

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: roadtrip au, strangers to lovers au | fluff/angst 

warnings: recreational alcoholic consumption, definitely not an accurate representation of how a road trip might actually be, mentions of anxiety + insecurities, very minor book reference to: The Night Circus, equally minor movie references to: Mission Impossible and The Princess Bride because I have a problem, light makeout sessions, talks of DTR (define the relationship), some angst but this is me so there’s a happy ending. 

word count: 27k 

a/n: a birthday present for the one and only Jeon Jungkook, whom I love and respect so much and only wish the bestest of days for. Partly inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “invisible string” +  a love letter of sorts to my own old high school crush for whom my memory of him helped build Jungkook’s character. This also turned out way longer than I ever wanted it to be lol oops! 

update: i was actually able to do a writer’s audio tag on this fic!!! check it out if you want to hear about the behind the scenes process that went into writing this fic <3 

.

When you land a job in the months following your college graduation, you feel as if you are on top of the world. How could you not? After all, the norm that follows post-college is one of disappointment and constant hunts online to find job openings for any position that could suit your background and previous work experiences. It’s a fear that plagues lots of your friends, both those in college and out. It’s the same paranoia you had in the months leading up to graduation and the few months after graduation—in which your days were measured by the boxes you packed to move out of your tiny college apartment and into an equally tiny new apartment you currently share with an old roommate of yours, as well as the days you spent hunched over your computer and scrolling through job postings. 

You had gone through more than a handful of cover letters, resume submissions, and in person interviews before finally landing the job you currently have and have been working under for a month now. 

Throughout the course of the recent month, you’ve continued to secure certain moments that solidify the confidence that you’re finally becoming an adult. Sure, a barely functioning adult who mostly still uses the microwave to heat up your frozen Mac and Cheese—but an adult nonetheless. From learning how to pay your bills online, to realizing that grocery shopping was something you needed to make a conscious effort to do, along with going to and from your nine to five job with your coffee order in hand. 

All of those things have helped you feel like you were, perhaps, finally getting your life together. 

And then you receive the invitation in the mailbox. 

It happens when you unlock your box on a bright March morning, taking out the usual round of bills and fashion magazines until your fingers lock around an envelope bigger than the normal letter size. It’s much sturdier too. 

You don’t know what to think of the letter, until you bring the damn thing back into your apartment and rip the opening. The mere sight of the content inside makes you feel like the hand of life has just taken your figurine and moved you back a good twenty squares. 

The post in your hand reads: 

WITH GREAT JOY, IRENE AND SEOKJIN REQUEST THE HONOR OF YOUR PRESENCE FOR THEIR WEDDING CELEBRATION ON THE DAY OF MAY 25TH. COCKTAILS, DINNER, AND DANCING TO FOLLOW. 

There’s a date at the bottom of the invitation. As you line the date up with your calendar, you realize that you have a week to RSVP to the event. 

You toss the envelope onto the counter in the kitchen just to glare at the cardstock, maybe to convince yourself this is a dream or at least convince yourself that it’s normal for your friend from college to be getting married even when you have yet to land a successful relationship of your own. 

You aren’t as close with Irene as you used to be, but the memory of your friendship is still at the forefront of your mind. The pair of you met during your final year of university, when you were assigned to work together for one of your many senior projects and immediately clicked. The months you spent in her apartment and vice versa pulling out all-nighters in desperate attempts to finish your project definitely earns you an invitation. At the very least, you are happy to see that Irene: bright and smart and funny, is getting married. 

Not only that, but getting married to Seokjin. He’s a year older than you and Irene, but those two met when he was still enrolled and have been inseparable ever since. You don’t know relationships that well, but you know them enough to recognize that Seokjin and Irene were what everyone called the ‘endgame’. In truth, it was only a matter of time before you were to receive one of these from them. 

But did she really have to one-up you like this? Not that it’s a competition. However, it does leave a funny feeling to see someone the same age as you display a much more put together handle on life. You groan at the thought.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Karly asks. 

You turn to your roommate. She’s seated at the kitchen table, books out and everywhere as she looks over at you. Karly: fellow alumni, graduated from her undergrad program early to go straight into pursuing her master’s degree. She’s a busy bee. You wave the envelope. “Irene is getting married.” 

Her eyes widen. “Ah shit, no way?” She takes the paper that you offer to her and looks over the invitation. “Damn, I knew it was only a matter of time before we started getting this stuff, but to actually see it happening…” 

You groan. “I know right!” You take the cardstock back from your friend. “It’s only been six months since we graduated, how could she be getting married already?” 

“Well, Irene did have a job lined up for her right after graduation,” Karly points out thoughtfully. She sees the look of bewilderment you give her. “What? It was on her Instagram.” 

You pout. “Of course Irene would have a job lined up like that.” You run a hand through your hair. “I mean, that’s good for her. Really good, actually…” 

Karly jerks her chin towards the envelope still in your hand. “So, are you planning to go?” 

“I don’t know, do you have plans that day?” You wave the paper. “I’m allowed a plus one.” 

Your roommate cracks a smile. “Are you asking me out? A little forward of you, we’ve been friends for so long…” 

You whine, shaking the paper and little more frantically. “Karly, this is important! I don’t want to go alone, I won’t know anyone!” 

She laughs. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. What was the date again?” 

You provide the date to her. You approach Karly’s place at the kitchen table and watch as she opens the calendar on her laptop. Immediately, you are overwhelmed by all the deadlines she’s got under practicality every date on the screen. Yet, a “wow” is the only thing you can say at the sight. 

Karly smiles, sparing you a glance over her shoulder. “One of the joys of being a grad student slash T.A. slash research assistant.” She scrolls down into May, and narrows her eyes upon May 25th. Underneath the date is an event—color coated to bright orange and typed out in all caps. CONFERENCE WITH PROFESSOR WONG. “Oh crap, I have a conference that day.” 

“No…” You whine some more, trailing off as you grab Karly by the shoulders and begin shaking. “Karly! You’ve left me out for the bears! What am I supposed to do?” 

Karly laughs as she lets herself be manhandled in this way. “I don’t know! Go and deepen your social life or something.” 

You stop shaking her and glare instead. “Is that a joke?” 

“What do you expect me to say?” She retorts, appalled by your answer. “Then don’t go.” 

You whine again. “But this is Irene, and I’ll feel bad for not going and congratulating her!” 

“Then go!” 

“But I don’t have a plus one!” 

Karly places her hands at her temples. “Oh my god, this is like the circle of stupidity with you. Then find a plus one! Or just don’t go!” She whirls around to face you. “I will help you find a dress if you decide to go. I will also sit with you on the couch and eat popcorn with you if you decide not to go.” 

You continue to pout, knowing that you deserve that gentle attempt at a lecture but still not liking the reason why you needed such a talking to. 

“Fine,” You eventually decide to say, sliding into the seat next to Karly and leaning forward to plant your entire upper body on the table. 

Karly laughs at your defeated posture. “Well, you have the rest of the week to make your decision.” 

She has a point. That doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

.

For the rest of the week the decision of whether or not you should attend the wedding becomes a weight in your mind. You spend the next few days pondering it, thinking over the pros and the cons. 

As overdramatic as it is, you think about it during work, when you’re partaking in your home workout routines, and even when you’re about to fall asleep. You do want to go, you really do. It’ll be the first time you attend a wedding that didn’t involve a relative, which feels like a big deal in your adult agenda mindset. And Irene is someone you wouldn’t mind spending an evening with to catch up. 

However, you wouldn’t get to spend the evening with Irene—after all, a wedding implies that she would likely be mingling with all of her guests and you would just be another attendee forced to find other means of entertainment. That’s where the plus one comes in handy. Except you don’t have a plus one. A slight problem. 

You sigh. Work is a little slow today, as you are also experiencing the afternoon slump in which your mind drifts away more often than usual. You find yourself with a small laundry list of tasks (such as emailing companies, working on drafts for releases, and trying to set up different appointments) but without the motivation to do those things right away. Because of that, your afternoon slump takes the form of opening airline services to find information and prices about flying to Irene’s wedding. It’s in her hometown, about a five hour flight time from here to there. 

You click on the various boxes that require information, finally allowing a search. As the search goes through, your eyes take in all the prices—both the amount to get there and to get back—and your lips part slightly at the totaling numbers. 

“Five hundred dollars?” You mutter to yourself. You’re not sure how this would work with budgeting, but you’re still trying to figure out how to balance the cost of AC, the internet, and how to eat appropriate meals at least once a day. You don’t have five hundred dollars to spend on an airplane ticket. A slightly bigger problem. 

You sigh again, resting your elbow on the desk and your chin in the palm as your eyes continue to scroll through the website. 

Behind you, fingers curl around the top of your cubicle. There is a silence between the two of you: him, merely observing, and you, completely oblivious, until he clears his throat. 

You jump, having not expected to be interrupted like this. A squeak leaves the back of your throat as you whirl around to see who is visiting you. “Jimin!” You exclaim, taking in the boy now perched along the wall of your cubicle. This is before you narrow your eyes. “Asshole, you scared me!” 

If you just started working here and learned that you’d be cursing out Park Jimin for startling you, that past version of yourself might have turned red, shocked, and nervous at the thought. A month ago, Jimin was that coworker—as friendly as friendly people come by. With his pretty eyes, perfectly soft pink lips, and freshly dyed brown hair, you had been immediately taken by his charm and helpful nature. 

Then the month went by, and you realized there were no romantic intentions on either end. Jimin then became your first friend in your new job. Albeit, he’s a nosy friend who enjoys asking questions and dragging you out to nearby bars and coming over occasionally with take-out, but a friend nonetheless. 

“Sorry!” Jimin says back, then he glares at you. “What are you doing over here anyways?” 

You shake your head. “What do you mean?” 

“What do you mean what do I mean? You’ve been sighing all afternoon.” Jimin pulls out a slip of paper from behind his back. “Fifty times in the last hour, I swear to god.” 

You straighten out of your seat to get a better look at the paper, unamused to find fifty tally marks across the surface. “You’re lying, there’s no way that I sighed fifty times in an hour.” 

“Of course you wouldn’t know, you’re the one doing all the sighing!” Jimin retorts, lowering his hand with the paper. “Is something up with you? Did something happen?” His eyes flicker to the monitor screen behind you and he frowns. “What the fuck? Are you moving away already?” 

You blink. “What?” 

He jerks his chin towards the computer. “You’re looking at flight prices.” 

“Huh?” You turn around, having completely forgotten about your previous predicament in light of discovering that Jimin counts your sighs. “Oh! No…” 

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “No, you’re not looking at flight prices?” 

You slide back into your chair, a silent invitation for Jimin to step further into your cubicle. You sigh again, and he holds the paper back up. Taking a pencil out of his pocket, he makes another mark. You look over at him upon hearing the pencil scratch and scowl. “Give me that!” You grab the paper from his hand. “I’m dealing with a crisis right now, don’t count my sighs!”

“Alright! Alright!” Jimin slides behind you and leans forward to get a better look at your computer screen. “So where are you moving to this time?” 

You press your lips together. “I’m not moving away. A friend of mine from college is getting married. I’m just trying to see how expensive it would be to fly over there.” 

He whistles at the five hundred dollar price in your cart. “That’s pretty expensive.” 

“I know!” You groan, throwing yourself further back into your chair. “I wouldn’t mind going, but I don’t have a plus one. And as you can see, flying there would be a challenge on my wallet.” 

Jimin hums at that. “Well, regarding your plus one problem, I wouldn’t mind going with you.” 

You turn to look at him. “Really? You’d go across the country and endure an entire evening with your coworker and her old college classmates?” 

He shrugs. “If you’re desperate, I’ll keep my offer around.” He actually pouts this time. “Are you implying that you see me more as a coworker than a friend? After all the times we’ve hung out outside of work!” 

Your eyes widen slightly, having not thought of that. “No, no, Jimin, I mean—yes, I do see you as a friend now but we met as coworkers so I just think of you as a coworker first—!” You’re rambling. 

Jimin interrupts by patting your shoulder, the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile. “I’m just messing with you.” 

You shake your head again. “Asshole,” You grumble, returning your attention back to your computer. 

Jimin is still mid-laughter behind you. “Anyways, yeah, like I said. If you’re desperate to go, I wouldn’t mind going with you. But deciding how to get there is a different question entirely.” 

You turn to glare at your friend for a moment. “I’ll let you know.” 

He nods, before his lips part and he’s snapping his fingers. “Oh yeah! I wanted to ask you something.” 

He backs up, allowing you enough space to turn around fully and face him. “Okay, what’s up?” 

Jimin grins, lifting his leg up to nudge your chair slightly. “I’m going out tonight—you should come with.” 

You don’t even give this a second thought. Your lips turn into a downwards curl as you shake your head. “Nope.” 

Jimin looks appalled. “Why not? Didn’t you have fun the last time we went out?” 

“If ‘fun’ to you is trying to drag your drunk ass home and staying the night to make sure you wouldn’t choke on your vomit…” You grumble, trying not to shudder at the memory. It has only been a few days since that ‘fun’ time. 

“I told you that sometimes I overestimate my abilities, and I already apologized for that,” Jimin points out, although he does have the decency to look guilty for that mess. He perks up again. “But this’ll be different, I promise. I’m meeting up with some friends and we’re just gonna catch up. It’s at one of the quieter bars uptown: no loud DJ, no bright lights, no bottomless rum and coke. Promise. It’ll just be a lot of socializing.” He watches you hesitantly. Socializing has never been your strong suit. “And finger food.” 

The mention of food does make you look up towards him—your first sign of interest towards something. However, another thought weighs you down. “Are you sure you even want me to go?” You ask after a moment. “I mean, this is a catch up with friends. Wouldn’t I be intruding?” 

“Not at all!” Jimin brushes off, waving away your concern with his hand. “I told you, it’s a socializing thing. Besides, my friends are always bringing someone along. They were asking me when I’d have a friend tag along, so I thought you’d be a good selection.” He notices you still frowning. “C’mon! It’ll be fun. When I��m not vomiting over your shoes, I’m good company. And I promise I won’t be vomiting this time.” 

You stare at Jimin for a moment longer, contemplating his words. This is very true. Jimin is an ideal friend to have during social gatherings—he’s good at keeping a conversation going so you don’t have to shoulder the weight alone, he’s good at reading when you’re in a good mood and when you’re ready to go home, and he’s excellent at keeping unwanted attention away. You know this. Jimin knows that you know this. 

It takes one curl of your lips for Jimin to grin, knowing that he has convinced you. “Okay!” He says, finalizing the decision without having to hear the actual answer from you. He pats your knee. “We’ll take the subway after work, it’s just a few stops down.” 

If your mind conjures up any second thoughts, Jimin leaves before you are able to express them. 

.

True to Jimin’s word, the pair of you step into a subway heading westbound as soon as you’re finished with work. It’s much later in the day now, the afternoon sun has changed into a night sky with a chill spring breeze to match. The carts are filled with the evening crowd of adults, all done with another day of work and finding enjoyment for the rest of today by returning home or seeing friends. It’s a rarity that you would fall under that latter category, but the thought makes you excited nonetheless. 

“Alright, so you wanna tell me a little bit about these friends that I’m seeing tonight?” You ask, gripping the handlebar above you but leaning towards Jimin so he can hear what you’re saying over the noise of the subway speeding down the tracks. 

Jimin grins. “They’re just some friends I grew up with. We like to get together once a month to catch up and hang out, since everyone is so busy with their own lives.” 

You smile back. “That’s actually really sweet of you guys, to plan hangouts once a month.” 

He lightly flicks your forehead. “Hey, are you saying I’m normally not very sweet?” 

“Well, not right now!” You protest, hand over your forehead. “That hurt.” 

“You’re being a baby!” Jimin retorts back. 

The pair of you continue to bicker like this until your stop is announced over the intercom. Jimin halts the further insults being thrown at each other as he gestures towards the approaching station, as seen through the window of the subway. 

“This is our stop,” Jimin says to you, allowing you to step out onto the platform first. He joins behind you right after, leading the way as the subway’s three chimes signal the closing of the doors. There’s a breeze that follows, running through your hair and clothes as the subway zooms away to its next stop. The station itself is crowded, filled with groups of friends and individuals carrying on with the rest of their evening, overall looking so lively and you can feel yourself feeding off their energy. 

With a gesture pointing up the stairs that’ll take the pair of you to ground level, Jimin leads the way. You make your way through people, following Jimin’s guide until you’re both exiting the station and entering the world of your new stop. It’s another area of the city you work in, so the change in scenery isn’t too dramatic—but it’s a place more catered towards restaurants, shopping areas, and hang-out sections. The bright neon signs protrude out from the building, flashing the various products or services the specific building offered: from manicure care to corner ramen shops. 

“C’mon, let’s hurry!” Jimin calls back to you, picking his pace up slightly. He’s not running, but his long legs make it harder for you to keep up. “Everyone is already there.” 

The pair of you continue to pace down the sidewalk, past the crowds of people waiting to eat, people lingering outside of clothing stores. Finally, Jimin slows down near a restaurant. He looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still behind him, before entering the establishment. He mentions something about knowing where their seats are, before continuing deeper into the restaurant. 

As you look around, the place does look like a restaurant slash bar—not as crazy as some of the bars Jimin takes you with the intention of actually getting drunk, but there’s still a bar here and there’s still alcohol being shared heavily. It’s the same demographic of early 20s, young adults with friends, but there are actual tables and chairs and booths set up like a restaurant. So you suppose Jimin hadn’t been lying to you about this. 

“There they are!” Jimin says to you, as you look up and follow Jimin’s finger to the table in the far corner that is completely filled with the exception of two seats. You vaguely make out the back of some heads, most belonging to boys, before your eyes land on one of the boys facing you and Jimin. He’s sitting at the far end of the table, currently laughing brightly at something one of the boys at the table has said. For all intents and purposes, the boy is cute. Extremely cute. When he laughs, his eyes and nose crinkle and his lips spread into a wild smile—and brings out the dimple on his cheek. He looks like the embodiment of all your ideal types mashed into a singular being. 

All of those things. Yet, that is not the reason why you are staring. None of those things come close to why you stop dead in your tracks, why your heart drops in your chest, why your eyes widen. Even with the shitty lighting in this restaurant, you are one hundred percent positive. “Jimin!” You manage to choke out, having enough well power to grab onto his hand seconds before he is able to make himself and yourself known to his friends. 

He whirls around, wide-eyed and curious and worried. “What? Is everything okay?” 

You shake your head. The room feels too small. “I think there’s something I should tell you—!” 

“Hey, is that Jimin? Jimin!” Your voice is very easily drowned out by the sound of another, much louder voice that seems to boom through the restaurant. 

Jimin turns back around in time to face one of the boys from the table who has gotten out of his seat. You are able to see him from over Jimin’s shoulder—a tall boy with messy unkempt hair and a boxy smile. Jimin greets him with a “Taehyung!” before the boys embrace. “Taehyungie,” Jimin continues afterwards, turning around so both are able to face you. “This is Y/N, she’s a coworker of mine.” 

Taehyung grins, a friendly gesture that makes you relax. But only slightly. “Y/N! It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a bit about you from Jimin. All good things, I promise.” 

“W-Well, that’s good to hear,” You manage shakily, eyes nervously darting to the boy at the end of the table, who has stopped his conversation and is now looking at you and Jimin. 

“Let me introduce you,” Jimin says, breaking your concentration as he rests a hand on your shoulder. He points right at the boy at the end of the table, who is still staring at you. His eyebrows are furrowed together. You want to bury yourself alive. “That one over there is—!” 

A lightbulb seems to go off in the boy’s head. His face breaks out into a smile as he points at you. “Hey, Y/N!” 

Jimin looks taken aback at the fact you are being recognized by someone at the table. His hand lowers as he looks over at you. 

You, however, cannot focus on Jimin. You can only focus on the boy at the end of the table, the boy currently smiling over at you with all the light in his eyes, the boy who makes the memories flash through your mind. From that, the best you can manage is a tiny smile. “Jungkook!” 

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Where do you even begin with him? 

You met Jungkook during your second year of university. He had been an arts major (you were not) and yet, your paths crossed multiple times throughout the quarter as a result of sharing many general education classes together. You even were forced to pair up on a project for one of those aforementioned G.E. classes. Neither of you ran in the same social circle, but that didn’t change how sweet, funny, charming, endearing, easy-going, friendly, smart, and nice Jungkook was. It was very easy for him to make friends, very easy for him to go out of his way to say hi to you in the library or in class or in the cafeteria, and very easy for him to strike up a basic conversation with you. 

Because of that, it was very easy for you to fall for him—to develop a deep-rooted crush that went on for the rest of your university experience. You would use the term ‘friends’ very loosely when describing what your relationship with Jungkook had been. You had never hung out with him outside the context of school, never went out to eat with him, and never saw him again after graduation. Until now. 

Actually, ‘acquaintances’ would probably be a much more fitting term. 

“Hey, I haven’t seen you since graduation!” Jungkook is saying as he stands up from his chair and approaches you. As if on autopilot, you return the one armed hug he gives you. His smile, while still pleasant, holds a surprising tinge of shyness to it. 

“Woah, hold on a second,” Jimin interrupts, immediately pointing between Jungkook and you. “You guys know each other?” 

“Y/N and I went to university together!” Jungkook provides. 

Jimin looks like his eyes are about to fall out of his sockets. 

“We’ve known each other since second year,” Jungkook continues. He looks over at you. “I didn’t know you know Jimin.” 

“Uh…” You forget how to speak. You’re too busy looking at Jungkook as if you haven’t seen him for years. In a way, it feels like that. Seeing people from college outside of college after a graduation ceremony is like meeting them again for the first time—most of them develop a more independent look. Some look like their life is seconds from falling apart. Some look much happier without the institutional pressure to secure classes and grades and internships. Sadly for you, Jungkook falls under the latter category. Did he always have that twinkle of starlight in his eyes? 

“Y/N and I work together,” Jimin provides, seeming to realize that you weren’t going to answer Jungkook’s question. “She started working about a month ago.” 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Jungkook replies, still looking at you. It is then he seems to notice that the three of you are standing in the middle of the restaurant. Although you are not distracting any patrons, the workers probably don’t appreciate it. “How about we sit down? We’ll be able to catch up more!” 

Jimin seems to regain control of the situation quicker than you do, because he nods at Jungkook. “Let me introduce her to everyone, then we’ll join you.” You look over to where Jungkook had been sitting and immediately notice the previously empty two chairs right across from him—like fate, or something terrible like that. 

So you watch as Jungkook makes his way back to his seat, and Jimin starts to guide you around the table. He only drops a name. Surprisingly, he doesn’t linger, he merely takes you to the next person. It only takes you a second to figure out why. 

“You didn’t tell me you know Jungkook,” Jimin hisses in between the time it takes to travel in between people. 

“I didn’t know you knew Jungkook!” You hiss back. You smile and nod politely at the person Jimin introduces as Yoongi. “Seriously, you never mentioned him once!” 

Jimin only keeps his frustration for a moment before he’s introducing you to someone named Hoseok, a boy with a bright smile, the one who was making Jungkook laugh earlier. “Okay, fine,” He relents, the pair of you finally move to take your seats. “But what was that earlier?” 

“What was what?” 

“You were just staring at him! What, did you have a huge crush on him or something—?” Jimin accuses, but he stops. Just as the pair of you are about to sit down, Jimin parts his lips in realization. “Oh.” Then, he sends you an absolutely wicked grin. “Oh, okay.” 

Your eyes widen at him, murder in your eyes. “Jimin!” 

“So, Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice cuts through your little biting banter with Jimin. 

You whirl around to face Jungkook, eyes completely devoid of murder and voice several pitches higher. “Hi, Jungkook!” 

He smiles, such a wonderful little thing that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Hi.” 

Jimin ducks his head to hide the fact that he wants nothing more than to burst into fits of laughter. 

“So how have you been?” Jungkook starts up. “I haven’t seen you since graduation. Since you landed a job, you seem to be doing well.” 

“I am!” You manage, only continuing to try and keep a handle on your heart and managing well enough this time. “There were a few months of just scrolling through job postings and writing cover letter after cover letter though.” 

Jungkook laughs, another beautiful gesture that makes you mirror his smile. “I definitely feel that.” 

“Well, what about you? What have you been up to?” You ask. “I think I saw on your Instagram and you were traveling around for a little?” 

His eyes light up at that. “Oh yeah! I don’t know if you remember Kim Mingyu from school?” You do. “Well, he and a friend of his got into some freelancing and had to do some traveling around to work on some filming. He asked me to come along because I actually have some photography experience. So that was a thing I did for a few months.” 

You nod, smiling. “No way! That’s so cool.” 

You do relax after a few conversational exchanges with Jungkook. He’s just as relaxed and mellow, yet friendly and polite as ever, and it’s easy to make conversation with him as it always has been. Eventually, you join in on the larger conversations with the whole table—touching on topics from your university experiences to tales from your new job. A lot of your role, however, falls to listening. Jimin’s friends are rowdy, funny, and out-going. They invite you in like you have been in this group for years—and are able to provide context on older memories they are revisiting. 

Most of your evening, however, is engaging in conversation with Jungkook. Occasionally, Jimin will join in, but he does spend most of his time laughing along to something his other friends are saying. Since you and Jungkook have always been friendly with each other, long conversations aren’t out of the ordinary. You just never considered how well you and Jungkook got along, how easy it would be to transition from topic to topic. 

“I am really glad that Jimin invited you along,” Jungkook explains brightly after the pair of you are done laughing following Jungkook’s tale of another fuck-ups with Kim Mingyu. “Makes you realize how small the world is.” 

“Oh, you should have seen her moping around earlier today,” Jimin interjects, choosing now of all times to insert himself back into your conversation with Jungkook. “She was sighing all afternoon—so maybe we should thank her misery that I decided to invite her along tonight.” 

Jungkook turns to you, a sympathetic look across his face. “Did you have a bad day today?” 

You try for a laugh, waving away Jimin’s words. “Jimin’s just overreacting. Actually, I found out a friend of mine from college is getting married, so I was trying to figure out my plan…” You start, trailing off as you look at Jungkook. “Wait, you didn’t know Irene, did you?” 

“I did.” His eyes widen as his lips part in realization. “Oh my god, you were invited to Irene’s wedding too?” 

“I was!” You exclaim, unsure whether you should be excited or even more nervous at the prospect of potentially seeing Jungkook at the wedding event. “Holy shit, this makes it an even smaller world. How did you know Irene?” 

Jungkook is still mid-giggle at the pure coincidence of everything. “We both knew Mingyu! This is so crazy. Are you planning to go?” 

You shrug. Jimin chooses to interject once more. “That’s what Y/N over here was sighing all afternoon over.” 

You whine as you look at Jimin. “No need to sell me out! Listen, Jungkook.” You turn back to the boy opposite of you, who is still gazing at you. “I’m sure you understand my current predicament.” 

“Sure.” 

“You know how expensive flights can be.” 

“Of course.” 

You fold your arms over each other and rest them on the table. “So, are you planning to go to the wedding?” 

He nods. “Most likely, yeah. I actually knew that the wedding was going to be happening soon, since Mingyu told me about it as soon as Irene got the ring. I ran into the flight problem pretty quickly too, so I decided to just drive to the event.” 

Jimin whistles. “Drive across the country, huh, JK? That must be a four day trip, or something.” 

“It was coming out to be,” Jungkook acknowledges with a nod. “But it’s okay.” He’s grinning, looking excited at the prospect. “I’ve never done a cross country drive before, so it was actually kind of exciting to plan the route. There are a few places I want to stop by and visit. I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Then, Jungkook turns back to you. “If you decide that flying would be too expensive, then you’re more than welcome to come along. It’ll be nice to have some company and not spend four days by myself.” 

Entirely on instinct, you start to laugh. You think he’s joking—how could you not? This is probably one of the longest conversations you’ve ever had with Jungkook. Like you’ve mentioned before, you wouldn’t consider him a friend. Why would he seriously try to invite you on a road trip?  “Yeah, I’m not too sure—I’ve never done a cross country trip before…” 

The conversation shifts pretty quickly as soon as you reply back to Jungkook. Hoseok asks you a question that drags your attention away, simultaneously allowing you to forget about Jungkook’s request. 

The end of the dinner happens soon after, when the bill has been paid and you suspect the long line of people outside waiting for a table are waiting for your party to be done. So venmo exchanges and money debts go around until each member of the table starts standing up one by one to make their move to exit the restaurant. 

You and Jimin are one of the first to leave. Goodbyes are exchanged along with the polite ‘it was nice to meet you’ phrase thrown around. Jungkook is mid-conversation with Yoongi, but he still gives you a quick hug of parting before you and Jimin exit the restaurant. 

The pair of you only make it out a few steps before there is a familiar voice calling your name. “Hey, Y/N! Y/N, wait up!” You stop and turn around, surprised to see Jungkook dashing out of the restaurant. He rests himself for a moment before he’s straightening back up to look at you. 

You try for a smile. “Hey Jungkook, what’s up?” 

He takes in a few more deep breaths to calm himself—either from the dashing he just did or to steel himself for the next question, you don’t know. “It’s about me inviting you to drive up to Irene’s wedding—I just thought I’d let you know it was a serious invitation. Having the company would be nice, and you wouldn’t be a burden to me, seriously. Besides, it’ll be fun to spend some time together.” 

“O-Oh,” You stammer, wringing your hands together. “I’m not too sure… I still have to think about it.” 

“Of course, of course,” Jungkook dismisses good naturedly. “Just thought I’d let you know, so you know that you do have options.” 

Although the offer makes you nervous, you cannot dismiss Jungkook’s thoughtfulness. You give him a more relaxed smile. “I really appreciate that Jungkook, thank you.” 

He smiles at your smile. “No problem! Actually…” He digs around for the wallet in his pocket and produces a little card. “Here’s my business card—my cell phone number is on here so just text or call if you decide to join me. Or,” He presses his lips into a more bashful smile. “You can just text me whenever for whatever reason. I just thought I’d let you know that it was good to see you again.” 

You take the card slowly, unable to look away from Jungkook’s face. He looks so genuine and shy that it doesn’t help your own racing heart. “It was good to see you too, Jungkook…” You return, albeit a little breathlessly. 

He smiles again, dimples pressing in his cheek (and your heart). He turns to Jimin “Oh yeah, nice seeing you too Park.” 

“Hey.” Jimin hits him on the shoulder. “I’m your hyung, you should show me more respect!” 

“My bad, my bad.” Jungkook doesn’t apologize though. His gaze flickers to yours one more time, gaze looking strangely hopeful. “I’ll see you guys around.” He walks backwards a few paces before turning around and returning to the restaurant. Maybe to see his other friends. 

Either way, it doesn’t matter. You are still screaming internally regardless—as shown through your red cheeks, widened eyes, and singing heart. Jimin will certainly never let you live this moment down. 

. 

Now, you are screaming externally. You don’t even give a thought or an explanation. You simply walk into your apartment, nosedive for the couch, and start yelling into one of the throw pillows. 

There’s a rapid movement of footsteps coming from down the hallway almost immediately, one that grows gradually louder until the owner of the steps starts speaking. “Who the fuck is out there? I’ve played softball my entire life and therefore will not hesitate to drive this bat so far up your ass—oh, Y/N.” The voice lowers significantly, as does the threat level it emits into the air. “It’s just you.” 

You lift your face from the throw pillow, and immediately brush away at the hair that falls in your face. “What the fuck!” You croak, pushing yourself into a sitting position and pointing at the bat in Karly’s hands. “What are you doing threatening me with a bat? You’ve never played a game of softball in your life!” 

“Oh, this isn’t mine. It’s Soonyoung’s.” Soonyoung is Karly’s boyfriend from high school, who used to play baseball on the high school team. How Karly has her boyfriend’s baseball bat is a mystery, but it’s something you think you are better off not asking about. She places the bat down on the carpet next to the coffee table. “But I should be asking you the questions, you bitch! You scared the shit out of me!” 

You sigh, throwing your head to rest on the back of the couch. “Sorry, sorry. Had a crazy day.” 

Karly ponders this as she moves to take a seat next to you. “You seemed fine when you texted me about you getting drinks with Jimin. Did something happen during the dinner?” 

You straighten up again and grip Karly by the arm. “Okay, don’t scream.” 

“You mean like you did?” Karly retorts dryly. 

You shake her. “I’m serious!” When Karly doesn’t say anything, you take it as a sign to continue with your story. “I saw Jungkook.” 

Karly blinks, then grabs your arm right back. “Wait, Jeon Jungkook, as in the guy you’ve been crushing on since second year?” 

“Yes!” You whine, throwing yourself onto the couch all over again. 

“The one you had to work together on a project with and nearly cried even though you guys just had to submit a paper?” 

“Yes!” 

“The one who said hi to you in the library that one time and you tried to put your elbow on the table afterwards but you missed and hit your head instead?” 

You pause, scowling. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. Are you done?” 

Karly is laughing. “Oh my god. What are the chances of you seeing him now?” 

“There’s more,” You groan out. 

“Really? Honestly that yell could have been just for seeing him again and that would have made sense—!” 

You ignore her. “He’s friends with Jimin. He’s friends with Irene, too. He was invited to her wedding.” 

“Wait, Jimin is friends with Irene or Jungkook is friends with Irene—?” 

“He won’t pay for the flight though. It’s too expensive. I can attest to that.” 

Karly holds a finger up, trying to connect the dots. “When did you look up flight prices—?” 

“So he invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.” 

Karly frowns. 

You sigh. “Jungkook invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.” 

“Oh! Oh!” Karly’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, that’s huge. Are you gonna go?” 

“I don’t know!” You whine. “Jungkook mentioned it would be a four day drive to get there. I don’t know if I can survive four days in a car with him! We’ve never been that close, what if it gets awkward?” 

Karly ponders this. “I really don’t think it’s in Jungkook’s nature to be awkward with someone—especially someone he’s had a history with.” She sees the look of disbelief you give her. “Well, even if that history was really limited. What makes you think it’ll be awkward? Was it awful seeing him tonight?” 

“No!” You cry, straightening into a sitting position so your legs drape over the side of the couch. You force yourself to calm down. “It… it was pretty good actually.” 

Karly raises an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Really now.” 

“Yeah…” You reply, trailing off. “We sat across from each other during the dinner and we talked most of the night, surprisingly. I guess because we were sort of acquaintances we’ve always known about each other, so it wasn’t like we didn’t know how to ask questions to each other. And Jungkook… he’s easy to talk to as he’s always been and he’s so nice and positive and he has a dimple on his cheek when he smiles…” You finish slowly, noticing your racing heart that has come up as a result of this conversation and of your memory. You realize the predicament you’re in, further emphasized by Karly’s growing grin. You groan. “Shut up.” 

Karly looks like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t say anything.” 

You grab onto one of the throw pillows and properly hit her in the face. “You’re saying many things right now, you bitch!” 

Karly takes the pillow from you and proceeds to whack you in the shoulder. “Not outloud!” 

“So you admit it!” You accuse, pointing at her. 

Karly yells. “Just admit you still have a crush on him!” 

Your groan turns into a cry. “Don’t say it outloud! Now I have to deal with it!” 

Your roommate sighs. “Bitch, I can tell you exactly how to deal with this. You’re gonna go on this road trip with Jungkook and see if you guys vibe—you honestly will not find a better way to discover your compatibility with him. If it works out, then you get more than a plus one to the wedding. If it doesn’t work out, just skip the wedding and take the first flight back home. Cut off your friendship with Jimin while you’re at it—it’s the only way to ensure you’ll never have to run into Jungkook again.” 

You pout. “That seems a little dramatic.” 

Karly thinks for a second, then she nudges you. “Remind me again about that quote your high school English teacher used to always parade around.” 

You stare at her for a moment, because you know exactly what point she’s trying to make. Still, you decide to humor her. And yourself. “‘You’ll never know if you’ll sink, swim, or float, until you’re willing to take the plunge’.” You level Karly with another gaze. Your friend has a point. You missed any chance to hang out with Jungkook during your college years—partly because your friend groups never intersected, but mostly because of your internalized fear of fucking up. But now that you are just a little older and just a little more versed in the art of conversing and befriending—maybe Karly is right. Maybe this is your chance to see if a different set of timing could make a difference. 

So you sigh. 

“I guess I should text Jungkook, huh.” 

Karly pats you on the shoulder. “Take the plunge, my dude.” 

.

You do take the plunge. You take Jungkook’s business card out from the pocket of your dress and dial the number. He expresses excitement—and also relief. 

These things lead up to the current moment. Eight o’clock in the morning: you lingering in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, your suitcase by the door, and a roommate keeping you company. 

You don’t realize how nervous you are until you get a text from Jungkook. 

Jungkook (8:03am): i’m here! u can buzz me up so i can help u with your stuff :) 

You (8:03am): it’s ok jungkook it’s just a suitcase. i’ll be down in a second! 

You pocket your phone, and Karly can read the expression across your face before you realize what is going on. She straightens up. “He’s here?” 

“Yeah.” You rinse your coffee cup and make your way towards the door. “Did you want to come down with me?” 

Karly stops and gives you a look. “I thought that was already implied.” 

“Well, thanks, that’s really nice—!” 

“Someone has to give you an embarrassing goodbye.” 

“There it is.” You sigh. You don’t say anything as you and Karly exit the apartment and make your way down the hall into the elevator. It only takes a few seconds for the elevator to lower down to the ground floor, where you and Karly exit and make your way to the front of the apartment complex. 

You swear your heart beats just a little faster as soon as you see Jungkook near the front entrance of the building. He’s wearing a pair of black jackets with an oversized denim jacket and currently looking down at his phone—overall appearing so tall and pretty and otherworldly. For a brief second, you are taken by the fact that for the next four days, he’ll be yours. 

Jungkook looks up as soon as he hears the door opening and he smiles. “Hey you.” 

You smile, albeit a little lopsided and dreamy. “Hi.” 

Jungkook walks towards you immediately. “Here, let me help you with that.” He reaches a hand out and gently takes the handle of your suitcase before you can say anything. Just as he’s taking the suitcase from you, Karly emerges from the building. “Oh, sorry about that.” 

Karly waves him off. “Don’t be. I’m Y/N’s roommate—I’m just here to see her off.” 

Jungkook stares at her for a moment, then he snaps his fingers. “Wait, I remember you. You went to college with us too.” He jerks his chin towards you. “You hung out with Y/N a lot, right?” 

“Yeah, I’m Karly.” She holds out her hand for Jungkook to shake. “And you’re right, she and I hung out a lot. We were roommates back then too.” 

Jungkook nods in understanding, before shoving his hand into his pocket. His other hand is still holding onto your suitcase. “Well, I promise to take good care of Y/N.” 

Karly smacks her teeth against the side of her mouth as she points at him. “You’re a good man, Jungkook.” She pauses for a moment, seeming to contemplate a new thought. You recognize the look immediately, and your fingers twitch as if you want to strangle her. Or at least let her know you’re throwing her a look of murderous intent. But of course, Karly doesn’t see it. And even if she had, you doubt she’d care. “But no funny business, alright.” 

You gape at her. “Karly!” 

Jungkook coughs at that. “I-It’s just a drive—y-you don’t need to worry about that.” He does, however, turn away to hide the red that dusts his cheeks. 

As soon as Jungkook’s back is facing you, you whirl around to shoot Karly with a glare. “Karly, you’re lucky I’m leaving for the next four days or I would not hesitate to figure out how to make stuffocation look like an accident!” You hiss out between teeth without taking a breath. 

Karly glares right back. “You’re really dumb, aren’t you? The fact that he recognizes me because he saw you hanging out with me on campus doesn’t strike any chords? Even though, like you said, you guys weren’t really friends?” 

You blink. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Karly widens her eyes. “What the fuck do you mean? Are you dumb with all the boys or just Jungkook?” 

“What do you mean!” You snap back. 

“So, Y/N, ready to go?” 

You whirl back around to find Jungkook now standing in front of you and Karly. He must have finished packing your suitcase in the trunk of his car and is now looking over at you with a tilt in his head. 

So you force a smile. “Of course,” You say, turning to Karly. “I was just saying bye to my roommate.” 

He nods in understanding, sparing one more glance at Karly before seeming to decide against it because he looks away. He’s still a little red at Karly’s previous comment. “We should get going then.” 

“Sure.” You look over at your roommate. “See you, bitch.” 

Karly waves back, grinning wildly. You just know she has several other thoughts she’d like to share with you, but has probably deemed you embarrassed enough. Lucky for you, she keeps her mouth shut. 

Unlucky for you, without Karly to be a barrier of distraction, this leaves you alone with Jungkook. You slide into the passenger seat of his car, still not yet processing the weight of what you’ve just agreed to. You fiddle alone for a second before Jungkook is opening the driver’s side and shifting into his seat. 

There is a silence as Jungkook is starting the car, and a part of you wants to die. Or at least have the ground swallow you whole. Holy fuck, what did you just sign up for? 

Your mind somehow takes five seconds to turn into complete shambles that you almost miss Jungkook’s question. 

“Here, I’m giving you an important mission,” Jungkook says, rummaging through the various chords that lay over the center console before producing an aux cord. “Should you choose to accept.” 

He’s got on such a serious expression you momentarily forget about your anxiety. His usage of the iconic line from Mission Impossible makes you laugh—a breathy sort of noise that escapes when your mind is too full. You still take the aux cord. “Oh my god—ever heard of bluetooth?” 

He pouts. “It hasn’t even been five minutes and you’re already insulting my beautiful Celia!” 

You raise both your eyebrows. “Celia?” 

“Yeah, that’s the name of my car.” He catches the bewildered look you give him before angling himself back to face the steering wheel, where he shifts his console into drive and makes a turn onto the main street. “If you’re already weirded out by the fact I have a name for my baby, then you’re in for a very long four days, Miss. Y/N.” 

You giggle, feeling that distraction of nerves start to come off your shoulders. “Not weird at all.” You pause. “Ryan is the name of my car.” 

“Ah!” He holds one arm out in a grand gesture. “You see, not so strange after all.” He steals a glance at you, watching as you’re about to connect your phone to the aux cord. “Wait!” He says, pointing a finger at you. 

You look up at him, wide eyes. 

He’s still holding an arm up. “How’s your music taste?” 

You’re still giving him your surprised expression. “You scared me!” 

He laughs, returning his hand back to the steering wheel. “Sorry, sorry. I have to ask though—I’d rather know now than later, so I can kick you out and not feel as bad about it.” 

Your laughter seems to melt away the last of your nervous energy. “Nice to know you’re putting all your cards out now.” You look down at your phone. “Regarding my music taste… it’s whatever you want dude! I have some lo-fi on here, some pop, alternative, Broadway, anime openings… an ‘everything’ playlist. Honestly, the world is your oyster.” 

“How about we start with your ‘everything’ playlist,” Jungkook suggests. “That way I can judge you immediately.” 

“Were you always this charming, Jeon Jungkook?” You retort. “Or has graduation changed you?” 

“Oh, I’ve always been this charming—you just never noticed.” 

That comment, however, goes over your head as you focus down on your playlist. You look over, selecting the shuffle option as Taylor Swift’s soft music from her newest album fills the air. Another silence fills the car, but it’s much more peaceful and comfortable. You allow yourself to settle further into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. 

“So,” You start after a moment. Jungkook hums to let you know he’s paying attention. “What inspired the name Celia?” 

Jungkook brightens at the question. “She was this character from a book I read when I was younger. The Night Circus? Anyways, the book is about these two illusionists who try to one up each other with their skills of magic, but they end up falling in love. Celia is the name of one of those illusionists.” 

You grin. “Sounds like a very cute crush.” 

Jungkook grins back. 

The drive out of the city continues like this. The pair of you cover the topic of books, of music, of your favorite animes. Jungkook just has this magical power of ensuring the tension dissipates from your mind and stays gone—whether it’s through his relaxed nature or easy-going teasing or his ability to ease the conversation from one topic to the next. It feels like every conversation you and Jungkook had in college, whether vague or circling around classes, all have led up to this moment. It seems like everytime you or Jungkook run out of things to talk about pertaining to a certain topic, you would bring up memories from college and just continue from there. Everything feels natural. 

It continues to feel natural even as you and Jungkook slowly start to see the edges of the city landscape fade away. The high rises fade into shorter buildings and smaller business areas that surround the bustling city scene. You watch as those buildings and business areas become rows of houses. Residential areas in the suburbs, passing by the occasional school or corner restaurants. 

“Before we enter the wide unknown,” Jungkook starts up, breaking the quiet that has enveloped the car. “You want to pick up lunch? You hungry?” 

You haven’t even realized how much time has gone by until you look at the clock on Jungkook’s dashboard and notice that it’s past noon. You widen your eyes at the sight. “Wow, I didn’t even realize so much time had passed.” 

“Yeah, we drove through a few cities. Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?” 

“You wish,” You tease, sticking your tongue out. “So, what, do we stop at a Cheesecake factory or something?” 

Jungkook blinks. “I thought you were poor—why would we stop at the Cheesecake factory? And why is that the first restaurant that comes to your mind?” 

You wave your hands. “It was just a suggestion!” 

“Well, I’m realizing that I should probably let you know that the motel I picked for us to drive to tonight is pretty far out—Google Maps says we probably won’t get there until midnight, and that’s with us driving straight through.” 

“Midnight? Fuck, Jungkook. Will we make it to the wedding a day early or something?” 

“Ha, ha, no. I’ll go over the schedule I planned out tomorrow. Basically, I want to try and cover most of our ground on the first day so we can take the rest of the trip easy. But I thought I’d let you know now that sitting in a restaurant probably won’t be the most time responsible idea.” 

“That’s true.” You look out the window again and see the golden arches of McDonalds appear within your line of sight. “Let’s just stop at McDonalds.” 

Jungkook follows your gaze. “Alright, down. Let’s do it.” 

He exits off the freeway, following down a route that takes him almost immediately towards the McDonalds parking lot. Since this restaurant is still within the lines of the city, it’s not completely deserted. There are a few cars in the parking lot, even fewer cars in the drive-through line. Because of this, ordering the food only takes a few minutes. Both of you get chicken nuggets, sodas, and large orders of french fries. 

“You know, we’re really living like kings,” You comment as Jungkook drives out and makes his way back onto the freeway. “College graduates, both somehow able to secure a job, and still ordering chicken mcnuggets.” 

Jungkook shrugs. “I wasn’t told this is what adulthood would be like. But I’m not complaining. My 10-year-old self is singing in so much joy right now.” He says this as he’s stuffing a handful of fries into your mouth. You laugh, and hand him a napkin. 

You turn the music back on. The pair of you silently munch on your chicken nuggets, as you angle your head towards the side window once again. As Jungkook drives, the numbers of structural spaces become more scattered the longer you both continue down the freeway. 

The anime opening to Haikyuu starts playing when you turn back to Jungkook and realize that he’s trying to close the box of his chicken nuggets. You move right away, taking the cardboard from him and closing it yourself. “Let me know if you need anything, Jungkook. Think of me as your co-pilot.” 

He laughs gently. “Is that the rule of the passenger seat?” 

You shrug, putting the empty box into the McDonalds bag near your feet. “For me at least. Everytime I do one of these drives with family, the person in the passenger seat has to open the snacks, make conversation, and always stay awake with the driver. It’s just courtesy.”

Jungkook is smiling softly now, mostly to himself, but it lights the corners of his eyes that makes you momentarily unable to look away. “You wanna tell me about your family?” 

So you do. Your voice becomes softer as you continue, but Jungkook listens to every single word you say. 

True to his observation, it’s not long before the pair of you are surrounded by the wide unknown. Houses in the suburbs become farmhouses and farms. Conversations fade from your family to another comfortable silence as you continue gazing out the window. Jungkook requests your lo-fi playlist at some point, filling the car with the soft and distorted hums. It allows your mind to wander as you stare out the window. The empty stretches of land around you are filled with greenery, with mountains, cutting right through the perfect blue of the sky above you. 

By 4:00PM, your entire body is starting to feel the ache of having been seated for long hours on end. You feel the tightness in the muscles of your thigh, the bones in your knees. 

Jungkook must be feeling the same, because as soon as a sign for a rest stop comes on, he exits the freeway and pulls into a large parking lot. There’s a restroom on the side, but the area is surrounded by trees with mountains standing in the background. 

Jungkook stops the car. “We should get out for a bit to move our legs.” 

You’re already tugging on the latch that’ll open the car door. “I’m already feeling it in my knees.” You open the door and immediately extend your legs out onto the solid ground beneath you. You let out a sigh of satisfaction, and Jungkook laughs from next to you. 

He’s opening his own car door soon after, but he straightens up into a standing position pretty quickly and stretches upwards. He closes the car door behind him, watching as you eventually pull yourself together to do the same. 

You turn to face Jungkook. “I’m gonna use the restroom.” You gesture towards the building and earn a nod from Jungkook, who mentions something about doing the same thing. You meet back at the car a few minutes later. 

Jungkook gestures to the trees surrounding the parking lot. “Want to take a walk around the area? Keep the blood flowing to our legs.” 

You nod. “That sounds like a good idea.” 

“Why don’t you get started. I’ll catch up.” Jungkook watches you leave, before opening the trunk of his car and rummaging around. 

He does catch up with you, quickly enough that you hardly notice that he had sent you out first. You hear his footsteps, and the call of your name. You turn around. “Jungkook!” 

The sight before you makes you waver slightly, as bouts of shyness overtake you. Standing before you is Jungkook, with his camera in hand. The lens is pointed right at you. As soon as you’re staring straight into the camera, Jungkook grins. “Say hi!” 

You whine, whirling back around and covering your face. “Are you filming me right now?” 

“I’m a photographer at heart, what did you expect?” Jungkook teases back. “Besides, it’s really pretty around here. You think I won’t film it?” 

You snort, starting your walk around the parking lot. “Oh yeah, because there aren’t any parking lots and trees and bathroom stops at home.” 

Jungkook is quiet for a second. “That’s not what I meant.” 

You turn to stare right into the lens of his camera. “Then the mountains, right?” 

He’s quiet for another second. “Sure.” He does, however, sound a little disappointed. You do not notice this. 

The pair of you stay quiet as you make your round around the parking lot, taking in the mountains from different angles. The walk around is mostly just to rid of the sensation of your legs falling off, but it’s still a nice view to admire. As soon as you finish a complete round, you and Jungkook return back to the car. You watch as he carefully places his camera into his camera bag before you’re both back in your seats. 

Jungkook turns to you. “Ready to get going again?” He looks at the control panel behind his steering wheel. “We’ll probably have to stop for gas in a few hours. But after that, it’s straight to the hotel.” 

You settle back into the passenger seat. “I guess we already have our dinner plans then.” You’re referring to the gas station. 

Jungkook grins. “I’m down for that.” 

And so, the trip continues back on the freeway. With the lo-fi playing in the background, you watch as the sun tears through the blue sky, as the sun finally begins it’s dip to the other side. The singular color once spread across the pane of atmosphere now conjugates around the sun crawling behind the mountain—creating a diffusion of new colors. The corner of the mountain emits an explosion of oranges, pinks, and purples. 

You lift your head from the window, eyes taking in the rainbow of pastels around the now fading sun. “Wow, Jungkook, look at that sunset.” 

He snorts. “You wanna talk about things that you can’t see back in the city?” 

You pout. “But it looks so pretty, see!” You keep gesturing towards the sunset. 

Jungkook relents just enough to spare a glance in the direction. He hums. “Yeah, it’s pretty.” He looks back at the road. “Can’t really find a view like that in the city.” 

You spend a little more time admiring the sunset than Jungkook does, for obvious reasons. You’ve seen a sunset plenty of times before in the past, but the context of this whole situation makes you unable to look away from it. You’re really out here, stuck in a car with someone you have never hung out with for longer than a few minutes. But you are enjoying yourself. There's peace in that. 

So you watch until the sun dips below the mountain, momentarily leaving the sky in a navy color. 

The next time Jungkook speaks, the area around you is much darker, and the sky is nearly black. “You hungry now?” 

You lift your head from the seat, not even realizing you were drifting off. You’re thinking about Irene, wondering if you should have texted her directly congratulating her on the wedding rather than just simply sending in the RSVP. “Sure. We eat as the car eats, right?” 

Jungkook smiles, a gesture you can barely make out from the headlines. “Of course.” 

This goes on for a few more miles until the sign for a gas station comes up. A few other cars linger near the dispensers. Jungkook parks near his choice and gets out of the car. You follow behind him. He’s already sliding his credit card into the machine, and the sight makes you reach over to grab his wrist. 

“I should pay, you’ve been driving all day!” 

He shakes his head, waving you off. “We’ll take turns, okay?” He looks at you. “Buy me dinner tonight too, that sound fair?” 

You pout, leaning back as you cross your arms. “Not really, but I guess I’ll have to accept it.” 

He grins. “You are correct.” 

As soon as the gas pump alerts you of the filled tank, Jungkook returns the pump back to the machine and locks his car. Together, the two of you make your way towards the convenience store, where the bell above rings to alert the workers of your presence. Nods are exchanged as you and Jungkook tear through the aisles to find anything that could satisfy your cravings. You return back with family size bags of hot cheetos and beef jerky, while Jungkook holds his selection of roasted seaweed and Doritos. You select your drinks together before returning to the cashier. 

It’s nearing 9:00PM as you and Jungkook return back to his car, where you slide back into your seats and immediately tear into your bags of salt and sodium. 

“How are you doing?” You ask as Jungkook finishes his first bag of roasted seaweed. 

Jungkook pulls out his phone, scrolling through the final stretch needed to reach the hotel. “Yeah, about four more hours to the motel.” He looks over at you. “I’m good. The salt in this seaweed really helps. How are you doing?” 

You nod immediately. “Great. Perfect.” 

He smiles, shifting his console to drive and pulling out of the gas station. “I’m used to these weird hours. Remember how I told you I traveled around a bit with Mingyu and Wonwoo? There was this one day we only slept for an hour or something? It sucked, I think I almost passed out that day. But yeah, this is honestly not even that bad.” He turns to look at you. “I think the good company helps, too.” 

You roll your eyes, grinning. “You flatter me, Jeon.” 

Slowly, 8PM turns into 10PM. One glance at Google maps tells you that you’re still two hours from the hotel. Even though you’re not the one driving, and although you haven’t endured any physical activity that could result in this exhaustion, you still find yourself growing tired. Something about sitting under the sun, sitting in a vehicle that rocks side to side with a consistent hum—it makes your mind work slowly and therefore brings out the sleepiness quicker. 

You settle deeper into your seat. 

Jungkook giggles from next to you. “You tired already?” 

You pout slowly, eyes closed just enough. “I’m not a morning person and you made me wake up at 8!” 

“Sure, sure, of course.” 

There’s a pause. 

You ponder a question for a moment. It’s something that you would never dare ask Jungkook if you had been more awake and more alert. But you’re tired, and your defenses are lowered, and it means you are more prone to asking questions. “Hey, Jungkook? Did you have any girlfriends when we were in college?” 

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. “Where’s this coming from?” He asks instead. 

You shrug, making a dismissive noise as your shoulders rise up. “Curiosity.” 

A pause. “I went on a few dates, but I never had a serious relationship.” 

“No way.” You lift your head up from the seat. “But I remember seeing you hang out with the occasional girl in the quad, or at some restaurants around the school.” 

Jungkook smiles. It’s hard to read the look in his eyes. They’re focused on the road in front of him, but they seem almost hazy and faraway. “Like I said, I went on a few dates. I did really want to get into a long term relationship in college. A lot of my friends had them, that’s where my parents met, so I was really open to the idea of at least experimenting. There were a lot of girls that I thought were nice, easy-going, or just really pretty, so I tried my hand in the whole dating thing.” 

“And it didn’t work out?” You coax out gently. 

“Not really,” He continues. He steals a glance at you. “We’d go on a few dates, but none of them ever felt substantial. I think girls see me and have a certain expectation—an expectation I couldn’t meet. So I never could picture myself in a long term relationship with any of them.” 

You tilt your head towards him. “There must have been someone…” 

“Well… there was one girl.” Jungkook starts after a moment. He’s not looking at you this time. “We had a few classes together earlier—we weren’t in the same major program. I don’t even know if I’d say we were close or anything. We just had a few classes and saw each other around on occasion. But the conversations we did have during class or outside of class just felt more real. Honestly, I could have been totally wrong about her. I could have just been blinded by all these expectations I was putting on her, which is ironic. But she was the only person I could actually see myself being in a long term relationship with. Or at least try.” 

You hum, still facing towards him in your seat. “Why didn’t you try anything then? You’re a good guy, Jungkook. I’m sure she would have wanted to try with you too.” 

“I guess I was just afraid of pushing it and scaring her off. I thought it was better to stay friends with her than try to pursue something. She never gave me an indication that she felt the same.” 

“And how do you feel now?” 

There’s a pause this time. “I don’t know honestly. We remained friends up until graduation but, uh, never saw her again. I do wonder from time to time how she’s doing.” 

“You should reach out to her,” You advise softly. “Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird.” You grin at him. “You need to make your move.” 

It is then that Jungkook turns to look at you. He looks for a little longer this time, eyes focused entirely on you. Underneath the small crescent of the moon above, you are still able to make out his facial features. His cheeks, his nose, his eyes—the latter is glimmering, like he knows something that you don’t. 

“I’m working on that,” He mumbles softly. You turn your head back towards the road. 

. 

You wake up the next morning feeling groggy, dirty, and messy. Your head lifts up from a pillow you can only vaguely remember falling on, laying on top of a bed you only vaguely remember throwing yourself in. There’s sunlight pouring into the room, but it feels like early morning sun. There’s a crisp in the air that you can feel, that you see out of the window. Right outside is the gathering of bushes and trees, a bright blue sky.

You are in the motel. 

Slowly, you push yourself into a sitting position, until you’re resting atop the white linen of your bed. Across the room, snuggled in his own twin bed, is Jungkook. His lashes are fanning across his cheekbones, his lips are parted, and his breathing is slow and soft.

It isn’t until Jungkook shifts in bed that you realize you’ve been watching him like a creep. Hastily, you tear your gaze away and decide to focus your gaze down. You notice immediately that you are not underneath the blankets. Instead, you are lying underneath Jungkook’s jacket. 

You roll the jacket off your frame, discovering that you are still in last night’s clothes—which explains why you were feeling so groggy and discombobulated. You look across the floor of the hotel room. Your suitcase is near the foot of your bed, and your phone sits on your nightstand connected to your charger. 

Vaguely, you recall what had happened the previous night—how Jungkook drove into the hotel room nearing midnight and the exhaustion was so overpowering that you and Jungkook blindly asked for any room with two twin beds before following through and practically collapsing into your respected beds. 

You definitely did that, which explains why you were on top of the bed, why you’re still in yesterday’s clothes, and why Jungkook’s jacket was your blanket. Stealing another glance at Jungkook: underneath the blankets and in a different t-shirt—you can assume that he was able to take a shower before lying down. 

With a sigh, you push off Jungkook’s jacket and lay it down on the bed next to you. Hoping not to disturb Jungkook, you slide out of bed and lower your suitcase to the ground. After fishing out a new set of clothes, you decide to take a shower. 

The warmth from the shower is the best breath of fresh air you’ve gotten since hitting the road with Jungkook. It feels like your body is going through a battery recharge, and it’s one you take your time with. You step out of the shower, running the towel through your hair and drying yourself enough to slip on your outfit for the day. The towel is thrown around your neck as you step out of the shower, letting the steam follow you out of the bathroom. 

Jungkook is still sleeping as you step out, which is good otherwise you’d feel bad for having disturbed his sleep time. After all the driving he did yesterday, you figure he deserves a few extra hours regardless of what the schedule calls for. 

You continue running the towel through your hair as you pick up your phone. Strangely, you do not remember connecting it to a charger before knocking out, but you pick it up regardless to see the 9:00AM time across your screen. 

There’s a quiet that takes over, in which you’re sitting perched comfortably on your bed and scrolling through your phone as Jungkook continues to drift a few feet away from you. 

About thirty minutes seem to pass before Jungkook is moaning softly to himself, letting out a puff of air as he slowly opens his eyes. His arms extend above him, knocking into the headboard and making him curse softly to himself. His eyes open as he lowers his hands to inspect the damage before immediately looking over towards you. 

He blinks, a tired smile overtaking his lips as he arches his back into a stretch. “Hey,” He greets, voice rough and scratchy and making your heart clench. Damn thing. “You’re awake. You knocked out pretty quickly as soon as we got the room.” 

You laugh. “Yeah, I honestly figured that.” You pick up his jacket, as if he hadn’t been the one to lay it on you those hours ago. “Thanks for trying to help me get comfortable.” You gesture towards the nightstand. “Did you find my charger too?” 

Jungkook sits up as he continues a small round of stretches and yawns. “I did,” He says. “You were barely coherent, but made enough sense to tell me where it was in your bag. Sorry for going through it, by the way.” 

You shake your head, waving him off. “No worries. Thank you again, Jungkook.” 

The pair of you stare at each other for a few moments, before that silence is broken by Jungkook’s phone going off. You look down as Jungkook snatches his own phone off the nightstand. He scrolls through something, before placing it back. 

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You ask, bringing your fingers through your hair to comb and give you a distraction. 

“Oh! Right.” Jungkook swings his legs off the side of the bed. “We have a slower day today. The hotel I picked is only about five hours away? We’re driving through the mountains today, so there’s this place I want to visit that has a little restaurant and everything. It’ll be a cute pit stop.” 

You nod. “Awesome, okay.” You curl your fingers around the strands of now loose strands of hair. 

It takes another hour until you and Jungkook are packed up again and ready to leave. A quick stop to the lobby provides both of you with a bagel and cup of coffee each as your breakfast. All before you’re once again sliding into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. 

You roll your shoulders before clicking your seatbelt in. “Ready for another long day?” 

“Of course.” He digs through his center console, producing his aux cord. “Your mission,” He says dramatically, not unlike yesterday. “Should you choose to accept.” 

You laugh gently, taking the cord. “You in love with Mission Impossible or something? This is the second time in two days you’re quoting it to me.” 

And this is how your day starts off—talks of Mission Impossible films that bleed into conversations about movies. 

The day at 10 o’clock in the morning is bright and blue as Jungkook drives back onto the freeway and continues down the road. The first few hours consist of the surrounding flatland, of green grass and high mountains all around. Conversations between you and Jungkook are a little more scattered today, but there’s a new level of comfort about the situation. With both of you well rested, it invites a more relaxed atmosphere as you pass the occasional joke or story time between the pair of you. 

As the sun continues to travel higher in the sky, Jungkook’s car starts it’s approach up the mountain. The trees start enveloping the pair of you into a newer, higher world. Not only that, but whenever you and Jungkook reach a clearing, it exposes a dip of lakes, grass, and mountains. And you, always having enjoyed the views of nature, keep an open eye for every single thing. 

You see Jungkook’s choice of destination before he does, and you gasp excitedly. 

Up ahead is a cloud of pink, white, and red flowers covering an entire mountain side. There is an occasional pop of cedar trees amongst the covering of pink, white, and red, but the colors are so poignant that it captures your attention immediately. 

You point to it. “Is that where we’re going?” 

Jungkook grins. “Surprise!” He’s selected this spot before offering the invitation to let you come along, but you’re not complaining. You’ve never been to a flower farm before, despite having heard about them and seen pictures of them for most of your childhood. You continue to watch with wide eyes and bright smiles as Jungkook drives closer and closer to the destination, finally parking in the appropriate lot after paying the fee. 

You’re practically vibrating in your seat with excitement. “Jungkook, Jungkook, c’mon let’s go, let’s go!” You push on the latch and nearly tumble out onto the ground. You straighten to stand on your feet, before meeting Jungkook near the trunk of his car. Surprise, surprise, he pulls out his camera and loops the strap over his head. 

He’s grinning as he closes the trunk. “You’re a little excited, aren’t you?” 

“A little?” You echo, clapping your hands, seemingly unable to wipe the grin off your face. “Jungkook, this is a flower farm! It’s so exciting!” 

So you dart off with Jungkook following closely behind you. The parking lot is located at the top of the flower farm, so the tour around the fields is a downwards one towards the bottom. A small pathway maps out a route for you to follow as you take in the various lines of flowers and colors. One short glimpse at the brochure tells you that these are spring flowers, and that you and Jungkook are visiting during the perfect season. You and Jungkook continue through your makeshift tour in silence, taking in the flowers as well as the view that extends out far beyond your line of sight while Jungkook snaps photographs behind you. Words don’t need to be said when everything around you says it all. 

At the bottom of the field is a cafe, a small brick building with an outdoor seating area facing the now upward flower display. You and Jungkook order sandwiches and soda, and take your seats outside as you wait for your number to be called. There are a fair amount of people today at the field, most of which you can see ahead roaming through the flowers ahead. 

“Have you ever been to a flower farm before?” Jungkook asks, as he glances over at you to see how bright your expression is. 

You smile as you turn to him. “No, never. But thank you for bringing me here, it’s beautiful here.” 

Jungkook smiles, looking a little smug. He looks proud of himself. “I’ve always wanted to come here, so I’m glad I was able to bring you along.” It looks like he wants to say more, but the number that rests between Jungkook’s fingers is called out, interrupting the conversation. He returns a moment later with the food. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” He says, taking the sandwich plate off the tray and placing it in front of you. 

You take the napkins that are being offered to you. “What’s up?” 

He settles down into his seat. “I didn’t get to return the question that you asked me last night.” 

It takes you a second to realize what he’s referring to. Immediately, you feel yourself turn red as you press your lips together. You were definitely drowsy last night, and hadn’t put too much consideration in the aftermath of asking Jungkook about his college relationships. You instead try for a laugh, as you wave him off. “Well, you don’t need to ask me. It’s pretty boring.” 

“Nonsense,” Jungkook brushes off, taking another bite of his sandwich. “So tell me, did you get into any relationships in college?” 

You laugh, albeit a little nervously. “No, not really. I never even went on any dates before—I guess, like you, I just couldn’t see myself in any long term relationship with anyone that seemed to like me.” 

“Well, how about crushes on your end? Did you like anyone?” 

You gaze over at Jungkook—taking in his wide curious eyes, his soft voice, his contagious laugh. The memories of him waving at you in class, of him catching up to you afterwards to continue previous conversations, of him going out of his way to say hi to you in the library. Jungkook has always been thoughtful, considerate, and soft along the edges. How could you not have crushed on him during college? 

And how could you not continue to have these lingering feelings for him afterwards? 

You think about your own advice you had given to Jungkook. You should reach out to her. Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird. You need to make your move. Could you even follow your own advice? 

You look down before Jungkook could start asking questions about your staring. “There was this one guy,” You start, trying for an uneasy laugh. “But I don’t think he ever noticed me. Well, that’s a lie. I guess we were kind of friends? I think it’s more along the lines of me being out of his league.” 

“That’s depressing,” Jungkook notes as he finishes his sandwich. You hardly even noticed him inhaling the thing. “How could you be out of a guy’s league? You’re so smart and funny and easy to talk to—if anything, a guy would probably be out of your league.” He leans forward, bringing you close enough where you can clearly make out the mole underneath his lip. “Tell me about this punk. So I can tell you he’s not good enough for you.” 

You laugh, keeping your gaze on him. You doubt he’d be so confident had he known about ‘this punk’. “He isn’t a punk,” You remark quietly. “He’s really nice, and really sweet. I was pretty quiet in college. Definitely introverted and kept to myself and had a hard time making friends. Although I would have honestly barely considered him a friend, he just made me feel like my time was meaningful and my attention was valuable to him.” Jungkook’s eyes continue to bore into yours. “If anything, I just wish he knew how much I admire him.” 

Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering across your face, once again displaying that unreadable expression. Yet, despite that, something glimmers in his eyes and he seems to come to an understanding you yourself don’t know about. That glimmer keeps swimming across the orbs, even as he switches his gaze between your eyes. They flicker down to your lips for a second, and your heart stutters in your chest. 

Jungkook coughs, pulling away from you as he seems to hyper-focus his attention on the soda still in front of him. He looks shy as he steals another glance at you from across the table. “He might not have made you feel that important if you were too scared to tell him how you felt.” 

You look down at your sandwich and take another bite. Something about the way he’s staring holes into the side of your face tells you that he knows something that you don’t. You wonder what he’s thinking. 

Jungkook wears that thoughtful expression for the rest of the visit to the flower field, as the pair of you return back to his car and slide back in your seats. He stays quiet as you resume the trip, slowly making your way back onto the freeway and towards your second motel. 

This kind of quiet is different than the previous silences the pair of you have grown to share over the past twenty-four hours. Unlike the comfortable moments of unspoken words, this is more tense. Like he knows something that you don’t. 

You don’t know what to say, or how to break that silence. You don’t know if perhaps you said something you shouldn’t have, or said something to make him uncomfortable. All of those thoughts are not pleasant ones. 

Jungkook stays quiet for most of the drive through the mountain. The music you have selected is loud enough that seems to drown the tense atmosphere, but the questions still press themselves deeply into your mind. What is he thinking about? 

And worse of all: did he know you were talking about him? 

You and Jungkook only speak a handful of times during the trip. He asks you if you need to use the restroom, if you’re hungry, and if you could play him your favorite anime openings. The pair of you have a handful of laughs about your mutual love for Haikyuu and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, but most of the drive to the motel is ridden out in silence. 

The pair of you reach the hotel around dinnertime, definitely nowhere as exhausted as you had been the previous night, but just as eager to finally reach your destination. The tension between you and Jungkook has eased slightly, so you can only assume that perhaps he has overcome whatever was bothering him. You yourself have pushed the thought of Jungkook knowing the truth out of your mind. After all, if he had known, you assume he would have brought it up. Or at least called for an Uber to send you home. You assume you would have provided some sort of reaction for the two of you to talk about. But alas, those thoughts follow a conversation that has not happened, and will probably never happen, because you’re sure that you’ll never have to be in a situation that forces your feelings to go out of control once again—! 

“Hi,” Jungkook returns to the hotel clerk behind the desk, a girl to be about your age, who is flickering her gaze between you and Jungkook. A flicker in her eyes tells you that she already has multiple thoughts and assumptions about your relationship. “Do you have a room with two beds?” 

“Oh!” The girl blinks, momentarily looking taken aback. “Of course, let me check.” She turns her attention to the computer screen in front of her. Her eyebrows furrow together. “I’m sorry sir, we only have rooms with one bed available—either a full, queen, or king-size mattress.” 

Jungkook makes a noise in the back of his throat as he taps his credit card on the desk. Just watching from the side, you notice how he swallows, how he looks down, how his cheeks turn red. He turns to you after a moment. “D-Do you, uh, do you mind?” 

It takes you a second to realize what Jungkook is asking. He’s asking if you’d be okay with sharing a bed with him. Him: your college crush, the guy you never really lost feelings for. 

You turn red too. “U-Um…” You press your lips together and swallow. “S-Sure,” You manage, waving your hands out in front of you. “I-I don’t mind. I-If you don’t mind, of course.” 

“I-I don’t mind either.” Jungkook, however, looks like he’s about to combust. He looks a little lost again. He blinks once, twice, and seems to realize that he’s supposed to hand the woman behind the desk his card. “Uh, whichever room is the cheapest.” 

“That’ll be the room with the full-size bed.” She flickers her gaze between the two of you. “If that’s okay.” 

“O-Of course,” He stammers back, allowing the girl to take the card. He looks at you. “Do you mind staying here? I have to go to the bathroom real quick.” 

“S-Sure, go ahead.” A part of you wants to hit your head on the desk. What is happening to you? Why is the mere thought of sharing a bed with Jungkook turning you into a pile of mush? You’re a grown ass woman—! 

“So the two of you on vacation or something?” The woman behind the desk asks. She’s still in the middle of scanning Jungkook’s credit card. 

You try for a smile. “Kind of, we’re going to a friend’s wedding.” 

“I see, that sounds fun.” She smiles. “You know, I have to be honest, I was a little surprised he asked for two beds. You guys would make a cute couple.” 

At the label, you start to turn red. “O-Oh n-no, we’re not a couple at all. That’s very flattering, b-but yeah we’re not together.” 

“Oh, I know,” The girl rebuffs. Her smile looks more like a grin. She places Jungkook’s credit card on the desk, along with a receipt and a pen. “I hope the full size bed will change that.” She gives you a wink. 

You part your lips, unsure what to make of the situation. “What—!” 

“I’m back,” Jungkook says, sliding up from behind you and making you jump slightly. “What did I miss?” 

“Uh…” You wonder if your face is too red or not. It certainly feels that way. “Here!” You push him forward towards the desk. “She scanned your credit card. You just need to sign and we’ll be on our way.” 

If Jungkook notices the stiffness in your posture, he doesn’t comment as he leans forward to sign the receipt. Just over Jungkook’s shoulder is the worker, looking at you with a now shit-eating grin across her lips. Several questions ping through your mind, but you don’t get to ask any of those because Jungkook is turning around with his credit card in hand. 

“Uh, ready to get going?” 

“Sure!” You say, voice a few several pitches higher and you return to wanting the ground to swallow you whole. Jungkook leads the way out of the lobby, and you dare one last glance back towards the woman behind the counter. 

She’s waving a slip of paper in her hand. 

You turn back to Jungkook. “Hey Jungkook, give me a second. I think we forgot to grab something at the desk.” 

It sort of feels like a walk of shame to reach the worker behind the counter, who is still grinning at the sight of you and your internal struggles. She hands you the slip of paper, mouths something that makes you go red, before you’re turning back towards Jungkook. “Good luck,” She had whispered. 

Before you’re reaching Jungkook, you open the paper. At the very top is the WiFi password. 

Underneath the WiFi password, in what you can only assume is her handwriting, is one sentence. Fate said you guys only get one bed- don’t worry, I think he likes you too :-) 

“What was that about?” Jungkook asks. 

You shove the paper into your pocket. “The WiFi password,” You supply. 

The walk to the hotel room is quiet as Jungkook leads the way through the different hallways, corridors, and numbers on plaques. That tense silence is back as he guides the two of you, stopping only when he reaches the number that matches the one on the index card. He gives you a look, and inserts the card key into the slot. The door beeps, and he pushes open the door to find, true to the word of the lady behind the counter, one full-sized bed in the middle of the room. 

For the first few hours, it’s easy to ignore that full-sized elephant in the room. Jungkook takes out his laptop and you guys watch your favorite season of Haikyuu together—it’s season two—or you guys linger about on your phones. It isn’t until nighttime falls into your bones, into your minds, that you realize that you really need to address the new situation. 

“I’m gonna take a shower first, if that’s okay,” You say, already sliding off the bed to gather your belongings from your suitcase. Jungkook is humming along to the Haikyuu ending song, but he stops long enough to accept you taking the first shower. He watches you as you fish pajamas out from your suitcase. “Hey, Jungkook…” You start. “Are you sure you’re cool with this?” You gesture to the bed. “I can sleep on the floor. They give you extra bedding for a reason…” 

“What? No, of course not, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” He moves until his knees are pressed into the mattress. “And I’m cool with this. Promise.” He hesitates. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

“Y-Yeah,” You manage, straightening into a standing position with your clothes in hand. “I don’t really move around when I’m sleeping. And I trust you, Jungkook.” You keep your gaze on each other until you break it first, turning around to step into the bathroom. 

You step out many minutes later, hair freshly washed and feeling much more relaxed than before. Jungkook has moved to the desk in the corner of the hotel room, typing away at some emails on his laptops. He does, however, whirl around upon hearing you exit the bathroom. The sight of you in your sweats, t-shirt, and damp hair makes his eyes linger. 

You merely tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can go now,” You say quietly. 

Jungkook nods. “Thanks.” 

Breaking that eye contact again, you turn to the bed and lift the blankets to slide under the covers. You rest your head on the pillow, and immediately start to drift away. 

You are brought back after what only feels like a few minutes, when you hear a light switch turn off followed by the blanket next to you lifting up. You turn slightly towards the other side of the bed. “Jungkook?” You whisper. 

A stillness. “Ah shit, I’m sorry. I was trying to be sneaky.” 

“Mmm…” You mumble softly, turning your body 180 degrees in order to face him. You can vaguely make out the shadow of Jungkook’s outline. “Don’t worry. I’m a really light sleeper. Come on in.” 

There is a shift in the blankets until you feel the additional weight of Jungkook’s figure crawling in next to you. The knowledge that Jungkook is lying right next to you turns your blood hot both with anxiety and because Jungkook brings in a new wave of heat underneath the covers. For a cool spring night, it’s comforting. But also further anxiety-inducing. 

Jungkook shifts and even though the pair of you are on opposite sides of the bed, you can still feel the warmth radiating off his body. In the silence of the hotel room, you can hear Jungkook breathing. 

“Is this okay?” It’s Jungkook asking. His voice is quiet, soothing, and very close to your face. You realize that you guys are facing each other. 

Still, you have to give an answer. “Y-Yeah,” You reply softly. “Goodnight, Jungkook.” 

“Goodnight.” 

You turn onto your back. You try to go to sleep, you really do. But your heart is pounding, and rather than the blood filling your ears, it’s the sound of Jungkook’s breathing. 

“Y/N, you still awake?” Jungkook asks softly. 

You snort. “It’s only been a minute.” 

Jungkook smiles. “Sorry. I just… I have a question. A thought, actually.” 

“What is it?” 

“Well, okay, I don’t want to come off as arrogant or self-centered, but it’s just a question and just this thought that I have…” 

“Jungkook.” You turn back to face him. “You can ask me the question. I don’t mind.” 

“Well, alright.” Jungkook shifts. He’s a little closer now, you can make out the outline of his face. Everything looks slightly more defined now, definitely a result of your eyes adjusting to the darkness. “When you were talking about the guy you had a crush on… you know, when I asked if there was someone you were interested in while we were in college.” 

“Oh, I remember.” Your heart feels fuzzy, even though you have no idea what he’s going to ask you. 

“Okay, um. I guess I just wanted to know. Were you talking about me? 

The world seems to stop tilting on its axis—and all the consequences of that follow along. Everything around you slows to a grind: your heart stops in your chest, and all the air drains out of your lungs. You hold your breath, feeling as if your body has just been dipped underwater. Thousands of thoughts ping through your mind. You feel like that episode of Spongebob where all the file cabinets in your brain are catching aflame. You suddenly feel like you have no thoughts, but too many thoughts at the same time. 

Above all, one question rises above all the rest: how did Jungkook know? 

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear your name being called. It isn’t until you feel a hand at your shoulder do you jolt. “H-Huh?” 

“S-Sorry.” Jungkook sounds a lot more nervous now. “You weren’t responding.” 

“I… I was thinking,” You reply lamely. 

A pause. “What’s your answer?” Were you talking about me?

You swallow. Should you tell the truth? Or should you deny everything with the hopes that Jungkook will forget this conversation ever existed? 

The words spill out before you can think of a proper answer. “What if I was?” 

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “Well…” He starts up again, inching forward towards you. Every move he makes is amplified in your ear, every squeak of the mattress and every rustle of clothing echoed in the small space that is your hotel room. “I’d be kinda frustrated, to be honest. Because when I was talking about my own crush, it might have been about you.” 

At Jungkook’s confession, the world seems to come crashing down on you as everything around tries to catch up to you. Immediately, you assume that perhaps you hadn’t heard Jungkook correctly, or maybe you’re completely misinterpreting what he’s trying to say to you. 

In a perfect world, maybe you’d say something witty and smart. Maybe you’d play along until he snapped. Maybe you’d be fluent in courting talk and understand exactly what he’s trying to say to you. 

But this isn’t a perfect world, and you are neither witty nor smart. You most certainly are not aware of flirtations. You need boys to be as straightforward as possible. Which is why you utter the most comprehensible: “What?” 

You feel a warmth at your hip—Jungkook’s hand against your skin. “Ahhhh.” Jungkook starts, not at all sounding fearful but rather casual. Still the underlying case of shyness, however, because this is still Jungkook. “I forgot you sometimes need simple things spelled out for you. Remember when you emailed our Arts History professor three times because you kept forgetting what font she wanted the assignment in?” 

You flush—Arts History was the class you and Jungkook were forced to pair up together for. Maybe you would have protested it more had you known Jungkook would turn out to be a little shit over it. “That was a one time thing! You’ve been bringing it up for as long as I’ve known you!” 

Jungkook giggles, pulling you closer so your face is against his collarbone and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Shh, okay, okay, I’m sorry.” 

Your face is burning at the feeling of your bodies so close together, your fingers pressed against his shirt and your nose against his skin. He smells like floral fabric softener. “Jungkook…?” You whisper softly, breath fanning his neck. 

Jungkook tilts his head to rest gently against your temple. He stays quiet for a moment, absorbing the moment. “If you did have a crush on me in college, it would be frustrating. Because I had a crush on you too.” 

This time it’s straightforward, just like how you’ve always wanted it. Why can’t you seem to reply? 

“Oh.” 

“I know.” 

You curl your fingers around Jungkook’s shirt. “What if…” You start slowly. “What if I said I still had those feelings?” 

Jungkook seems to think about his answer. “I’d say that I do too.” 

You swallow, nodding in a way that allows him to feel the movement. “Okay then.” 

Without a warning, Jungkook moves to curl his whole arm around your frame. This brings you even closer together. He noses your hairline. “Go to sleep,” He whispers softly. “We can talk about this tomorrow.” 

A part of you wants to say no—that holding off on confessions isn’t what happens in novels or tv shows or movies. But the larger part of you knows that you won’t be able to have a proper discussion like this when you are weak, tired, and vulnerable. Your heart stalls at his consideration, allowing yourself to be content just like this: asleep, cuddling with Jeon Jungkook as you’ve imagined since you first developed your crush. 

It’s much better than the fantasy. 

.

You wake up the next morning with Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, his soft breathing against your neck and his lips dusting the skin of your neck. There’s a new kind of comfort you find being held like this, and a part of you wants to melt back into his arms. You think you can pretend to be asleep just to stay here a little longer, but the urgency you have to pee and get the day started becomes too pressing. 

Your previous assumptions of Jungkook being a heavy sleeper are confirmed as you manage to untangle yourself from him without so much as a whine from his end. By the time you finish with the bathroom, Jungkook is just beginning to push himself into a sitting position. 

You linger near the foot of the bed. “Good morning,” You greet, almost nervously. For good reason to—the memory of last night is vague but defined well enough where you aren’t sure what the next course of action should be. It’s not like your college ever offered a course about what to do when your crush admits to liking you back. 

Jungkook looks at you from across the bed. He gives you a small smile, a reassuring one. “Morning,” He says back. “How did you sleep last night?” 

You twist your hands together. “Pretty good, actually. How about you?” 

“Me too.” He adjusts his position so he can crawl over to you. He slides his legs over the side of the bed right next to you. He brings his hands towards you, palms up. Although he’s close enough to reach you, he doesn’t. Instead, he asks: “Can I?” 

You don’t say anything, you merely rest your hand in his. He tugs you towards him, stopping only when you’re standing between his legs. He still keeps his fingers curled around yours, turning your hand up to play with your fingers. 

He looks up at you, a soft smile across his lips. “Hi.” 

You smile back. “Hi.” 

He laces your fingers together, resting them between your bodies. “I guess now for the bigger question… how are you feeling?” 

You look down at your hands, deciding you like the way his larger hands cover yours. “H-How did you know I was talking about you?” You ask instead, looking over at him. 

Jungkook shifts his gaze away for a moment. “I don’t know,” He admits earnestly. “You were just looking at me back at the flower field and I had a feeling. And I really think a part of me was hoping you were talking about me.” 

Unable to help yourself, you feel the side of your mouth quirk up into a small smile. “What would you have done if I wasn’t talking about you?” 

He exhales in a laugh. “Honestly, I might have just driven out in the middle of the night and gone over a bridge or something.” 

You laugh, trying to diffuse your smile by pressing your lips but it only works so well. “I was really surprised to hear you liked me back.” 

“Of course!” He exclaims, looking momentarily shocked that you would feel this way. “I wasn’t messing around when I said you were smart, funny, and easy to talk to. That’s what made me really like you when we first met. Whenever we talked you just felt so real and approachable—like I could just be myself around you. And even now, seeing you after graduating and realizing you’re still all of those things. It just makes me like you more.” 

You feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You’ve never thought of yourself in the way Jungkook is describing you—you always just assumed that you were in the background, that you’d never be enough. 

Jungkook is looking at you, his eyes big and wide and full of truth. “Is that weird?” He asks. 

You shake your head immediately. “No, no it’s not weird at all.” You shrug a shoulder, giving him a meek smile. “It’s really sweet, actually.” 

Jungkook grins at that, heaving out a breath as a sign of his lowered defenses. “I think you’re sweet too.” 

You groan at that, throwing your head back as Jungkook breaks into a series of giggles. “You’re corny.” 

“You’re not complaining,” He points out. This is true. 

You shrug. “I guess that means I’m expecting us to catch up on three years of terrible flirting.” 

The smile slides off his face. “You’re right.” He brings your joined hands closer together until your whole body is standing closer to his. “Can I ask to kiss you?” 

The four letter K word makes your heart stutter in your chest once more. Your hands are so close to his chest that you can feel his own heart beating, and the thought of Jungkook being equally nervous for this gives you enough confidence to return his question. “Why don’t you ask and find out?” 

He smiles, a bunny smile that crinkles his eyes. “Touche. Can I kiss you?” 

You smile back. “Yes…” You whisper, leaning down just enough for Jungkook to crane his neck up in order to meet each other halfway. It’s just a closed-mouth kiss, a soft weight against your lips.

It’s one that Jungkook pulls away from before you can really enjoy it, really ponder asking for more. “Sorry,” He says immediately, pointing to his mouth. “Morning breath.” 

The pair of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into laughter. That tense atmosphere is gone, replaced inside with that previously casual and comfortable air—as you step away from Jungkook and let him get his morning started. Except this time, the air is filled with open lingering stares, shy smiles, and Jungkook taking your suitcase wordlessly as you exit your hotel room. 

By the time you load into your car, it’s nearing noon and the gas tank in Jungkook’s car is almost empty. The pair of you agree in another champion’s breakfast—gas station food. 

“I swear, we’re both going to have terrible breakout tomorrow during the wedding,” You point out. Despite your words, you still tear into your Nacho Cheese Doritos with the aggression of a gorilla. “I’m going to photograph horribly. Irene will be so embarrassed.” 

“You photograph horribly? Inconceivable!” He says the word just as it is said in The Princess Bride, which makes you burst into another fit of laughter. 

The afternoon pans out the same way it has for the past two days. Jungkook drives onto the freeway, you decide the music, and the conversations fade in and out. Neither of you talk about the events of the previous night or of what happened in the morning—but the way Jungkook reaches out to laces your fingers together is more than enough. 

The town Jungkook has selected to stop for the evening is a five hour drive from the wedding venue—and it’s an actual city space this time, with restaurants and grocery stores and apartments. As soon as Jungkook tells you this information, you are bursting with excitement. It’s been two days since the pair of you actually stopped and lingered in a city environment and you miss it. 

It takes another whole day of driving to reach the city destination, as the first alert you get is the increasing number of cars that have joined you on the freeway. These more busy freeways guide you into the city, where you are greeted with the first sight of buildings, sidewalks, restaurants, and parking lots in days. 

Even though most of these landmarks are simple flashes that you and Jungkook pass through on the way to the hotel he has selected, you keep your eyes glued out of the window in order to take in as much of the surrounding area as you can. You continue to watch as the immediate high rises become more sporadic and spread out, until he’s finally pulling into the hotel. The sun is just setting behind the many buildings along the horizon. Lots of other cars are parked in the parking lot. You can hear other cars, buses, and trunks driving around the background—and you feel strangely comforted by this discovery. 

“Are you okay with sharing another bed today?” Jungkook asks as he guides the pair of you into the lobby. “I may or may not have called to make a reservation earlier when you were in the bathroom.” 

You laugh, feeling giddy at the thought of Jungkook taking the initiative to continue progressing your now slow-growing relationship. “Was that all they had left?” You ask teasingly as you make your way to the counter. 

Jungkook smiles down at you. “Perhaps I didn’t ask…” 

Your lips part. “Jungkook!” 

“What?” He’s laughing now. “I think I’m gonna bow out of any excuse to cuddle with you now that you’ve given me a taste of what that’s like?” 

You’re gasping in the midst of your laughter. “You’re terrible,” You manage. 

So Jungkook checks in—true to his word, he has reserved a single full-sized bed for the room. 

“Hey, so, I was thinking,” He starts as he’s following the map provided to him by the employee with directions about getting to his appropriate room. This hotel is slightly bigger than the off-the-road ones you and Jungkook pulled into, so it takes a little longer to find the room. After a few minutes of turning the map over, you two eventually find the room. 

“What’s up?” You ask as you push open the door and roll your suitcase into the space, with Jungkook following closely behind you. 

“Come here,” Jungkook requests gently, watching as you let go of your suitcase and make your way towards him. You move into his space easily, allowing him to hold you by the waist. “Since we’ve both admitted to missing out on three years of courting, flirting, and dating—I think we should go out to an actual restaurant to have an actual date.” 

You lean back slightly and give him a slightly shocked look. “Really?” 

“Yes!” He says. “Besides, someone has to put their foot down and say that eating only McDonalds and gas station hot dogs is not the right way to go.”

You laugh at that. “True, but we were having so much fun!” 

“Nope!” He exclaims, shaking his head. “The foot is going down, we’re going to an actual restaurant for dinner. Get changed, take a shower, whatever you need to do to freshen up.” There’s a finality in his words as he finally steps away from you, the smile of sweetness still on his lips. 

The restaurant Jungkook picks after scrolling through Yelp and other lists of recommendations is a corner Italian place that apparently serves the best Linguini and clams—a dish that you really enjoy. So you put something together much more presentable than your usual round of sweatpants and baggy t-shirts—replacing the sweatpants with black jeans and giving yourself a cream colored cropped sweater. It makes Jungkook’s eyes widen all the same. He’s clad in his usual black jeans and oversized coat that is perfect for the spring breeze. 

Since the restaurant is within walking distance of the hotel, you and Jungkook agree to chill off on the driving just enough to stretch your legs and actually have a walk for once—all while celebrating the final night of the road trip. 

“I was a little worried about this at first, to be honest with you,” You admit softly to Jungkook, long after the pair of you have been seated in a corner booth and have ordered your food. You’re circling the pasta noodles around your fork, and Jungkook is watching with a touch of amusement and adoration in his eyes. 

“Not gonna lie, so was I,” Jungkook returns back with an equally meek smile. 

You gape at him. “You invited me though!” 

“I did!” Jungkook exclaims with a laugh, looking down at his own order of food. “Me inviting you was honestly a spur of the moment thing. Me catching up to you, however, was me trying to be brave.” 

“You seemed pretty brave throughout most the trip,” You point out 

Jungkook shakes his head, situating his arms in a cross motion. “Nah dude that was just all a very well thought out facade. A part of me was expecting it to go terribly so I could at least walk away knowing that I built you up in my mind and the fantasy of that was better than the reality.” He must see the look of uncertainty casting a shadow over your mind because he immediately cuts back in. “Just so you know, the reality is much better than anything I could have conjured up.” 

You lower your chin slightly, staring over at Jungkook. You bring one shoulder up into a half-hearted shrug, maybe to showcase a certain level of carelessness. “What were you conjuring up then?” 

“Oh, I don’t know if you want to go there right now,” He rebuffs, looking a little red in the cheeks. “I think we should start slow. Refer to the PG thoughts, if you will.” 

You laugh, focusing your gaze momentarily on the last of your pasta. You had sorted through the clams, since they weren’t your favorite things to eat. “Jungkook, are you admitting to me that you have thoughts above PG?” 

“Oh shit, that wasn’t my intention!” 

You giggle. “I’m messing with you, Jungkook!” 

He pouts. “Don’t do that.” He rests his hand on the table, palm up, inviting for you to take it. “I just want to spend today with you, and take it slow—I just want to hold your hand and kiss you and lay with you and just be with you in the way I couldn’t be with you in college. Is that too weird?” 

You look down, pressing your lips together, trying not to squeal and definitely not trying to throw yourself off the chair. You look back over at him and squeeze his hand. “That’s not too weird at all. That’s actually really sweet. Honestly, those are things I probably would have asked for regardless. I don’t really know the rules of dating—I never really went out that often.” 

Jungkook smiles sweetly back at you, he brings your hands up to kiss the back. “I’ll give you a few pointers then, let’s get going.” 

After the check is paid for—it ends up being a split between the two, it’s the best compromise you can come up with considering he wants to take you out but you want to pay him back for driving this far—the pair of you emerge back into the city space. Jungkook’s hand is still wrapped around yours, using that connection point to pull you close to him. 

“Now this move,” Jungkook explains, beginning to lead you both back to your hotel room. “Is when the gentleman walks the lady home, because their date went by smoothly and he wants to see her for as long as possible.” 

You laugh. “I’m enjoying this so far.” 

The pair of you continue down the sidewalk, using the time it’ll take to walk back to the hotel to walk off the food in your stomach. You resume your conversation, giggling and laughing all the same until you’re walking through the lobby of the hotel and slowly making your way to your hotel room. 

Right before you step inside, Jungkook stops you. “Normally, the front door is where the gentleman drops the lady off, and they talk about how well the date went.” 

“Oh, well, in that case, this was so nice, Jungkook,” You remark, beaming at Jungkook’s own smile. “I’m glad you convinced me to eat real food for once.” 

“You’re welcome—I had fun too.” Jungkook slides closer to you. You, completely hypnotized by his next movements, watch as he cups your face with his hand to angle you upwards. “This is the part where we have a first kiss, because the stars are lined up for this. And because I really want to.” 

You smile, curling one of your hands around the wrist near your face. “Seeing as we’ve already had our first kiss, how about a second one?” 

Jungkook smiles back, eyes lidded towards your mouth. “I guess that’ll work.” His lesson on dating, it seems, is done, as he leans in to kiss you. You suck in a breath as he covers your lips with his. It’s deeper than the first time he kissed you—which had been more of a peck with a side of morning breath. But now you’re both awake, tasting like wine, and drunk off each other. It’s a more real kiss. 

You whimper as Jungkook’s tongue runs over your bottom lip, before slipping into your mouth. It’s a sensation you can get completely lost in, until Jungkook pulls away. 

Under the hallway light, you can make out his flushed cheeks, his wet lips, his dark gaze. 

Immediately, Jungkook is pulling you to his side before he starts digging through the pockets of his jeans. “Alright, we’re going inside right now.” 

You lean into his shoulder. “I thought I was supposed to invite you inside, Jeon? What happened to giving me pointers on first dates?” 

“Screw that,” He retorts, practically shoving the hotel door open. He turns around to face you. “Now, this is our hotel room. And I want to kiss you in private.” 

Your laughter is drowned out as Jungkook tugs you by the wrist into the room. 

.

Under different circumstances, waking up next to each other after a first date would hit you with a wave of anxiety and maybe even a vague sense of embarrassment at letting someone you like see you in such a vulnerable position. 

Right now, however, under the morning sunlight within the covers of your shared hotel bed, you just feel happy and content. You wake up on your side, with an arm resting over Jungkook’s chest and his fingers curling around your own. There is an immediate feeling of giddiness that overtakes you, because it’s hard for you to believe that this is happening. Someone you’ve liked and continue to like actually returning your feelings? That has always been such a foreign concept to you. 

You don’t know how long you continue laying in bed until Jungkook starts shifting next to you, signalling his wake. You watch as his eyes slowly peel open, laced with grogginess but still looking unfairly attractive that there are butterflies in your stomach. 

Jungkook lets out a sigh, as he looks down at you. A tired smile takes over his expression. “Morning.” 

“Good morning,” You reply back, voice soft and a little shy. “Happy wedding day.” 

That is true. Today is Irene’s wedding—an event you and Jungkook will arrive at in nearly five hours. There’s a strange sort of knot that is beginning to twist itself in your stomach, a knowledge that something good is coming to a close but a fear in the unknown as to what this would mean regarding your relationship with Jungkook. Neither of you have laid down groundwork for your relationship—if this even is a relationship to begin with. You may be inexperienced with this kind of stuff, but you’re sure that one date and making out on a hotel bed doesn’t immediately constitute an exclusive relationship. 

If Jungkook notices the tension in your form, he doesn’t say anything. He kisses your temple and grumbles something about wanting to get the day started. He mentions something about not having to worry about getting dressed for the wedding straightaway—that he has reserved a room at the hotel some of the guests of the wedding would be staying at, which is where you will be getting ready before the event. You nod, hearing pieces of his words, but a lot of it gets lost in your own thoughts. 

Is it okay to ask questions about where you stand with Jungkook? Is it foolish of you to even bother wondering? You’ve seen movies and have had conversations with friends about guys who dismissed questions like that as ‘moving too fast’. You don’t want to scare Jungkook off, but you also need to know that you’re not wasting your time.

You remain in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you sigh and try to organize through your thoughts. You also try to break down how the past three days have been. 

However, trying to do so proves to be a difficult challenge, as Jungkook’s phone starts buzzing excessively on his side of the nightstand—it seems like he is getting a series of text messages from someone. 

You know you shouldn’t be looking or prying, but the constant binging of alerts only eats at your nerves more. You turn in the bed towards Jungkook’s side, picking up the device to search for the silence switch along the sides. The screen, however, lights up and you immediately see a name you have not seen or heard since college. 

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts 

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think 

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :) 

You freeze, feeling your body overload with information and questions come flooding into your mind. At first, you think you reread the message wrong. You think that maybe Jennie is texting the wrong person. But after the third or fourth time, you realize that this isn’t a dream. That Jungkook already has a plus one to the wedding, and it isn’t you. 

More than that, it’s Jennie. 

Jennie is also someone you went to college with, and someone that you only heard of between the grape vines and therefore is someone that is only vaguely recognizable. But you definitely know her. Jennie had been one of Irene’s friends, president of her sorority—and labeled some of the nicest people on campus. Even just from rumors and the one time you ran into her around the school, you can see it. Jennie is nice, beautiful, friendly, and outgoing. All the things you are not. 

And now, she’s Jungkook’s plus one to the wedding. And Jungkook did not tell you. 

Your lips part as your head starts to spin. Why didn’t Jungkook tell you he already had a plus one to Irene’s wedding? Maybe he did not owe you the explanation, and maybe you should never have assumed he’d be your plus one to the wedding. 

The thought of you assuming Jungkook would be your date to the wedding fills you with a vague mortification—why did you have to go ahead and assume? 

Your mind starts to spiral as you fall into the depths of overthinking. Now you were set to attend a wedding alone, with no plus one, and surrounded by people you don’t know. All while watching Jungkook sit with Jennie, eat with Jennie, and dance with Jennie. 

Holy fuck, holy fuck, what were you going to do? You can’t go to this wedding alone. You can’t confront Jungkook about this—you’re not even supposed to be touching his phone or looking through his phone. He would definitely be upset. How could he not be? 

At once, the tears collect in your eyes. How could this be happening? Seconds ago, you had been so content and happy, excited to attend this wedding with Jungkook. Seconds ago, you had been confident about your feelings, and Jungkook’s feelings in return. From all the kisses he showered you in, the date, the talking, the confessing—how could you not feel that way? 

Had Jungkook just been pulling your leg? After all, he did have three years to talk to you, to go out with you. Why hadn’t he said something sooner? Is he here right now: talking to you and laughing with you because he hadn’t found anyone and knows that you would do anything for him? 

In the background, you can vaguely make out the shower in the bathroom turn off, signalling Jungkook’s near completion with the bathroom. At once, it feels like you’re in a car that has enforced sudden breaks and has sent you flying against the dashboard—like you can’t breathe. 

Hastily, you rest Jungkook’s phone back on the nightstand and roll back over to your side of the bed. You blink quickly, trying to rid of the tears that have collected in your eyes while also trying to calm the lump in the back of your throat. 

Just as you’re starting to get a handle back on your feelings, the bathroom door opens and you can vaguely make out Jungkook’s humming as he exits. The fact that he sounds so carefree while you’re hurting only a handful of feet away almost makes the tears come back in. But you’ve learned how to hide your emotions well. 

Jungkook’s soft laugh brings you out of your thoughts. “Still in bed?” He asks jokingly, sitting on the edge and placing a hand on your ankle. You try not to stiffen at the gesture. “You know, even though we’re getting dressed at a different hotel, we still need to get going.” 

You take in a breath. “I’m comfortable here,” You exclaim, sitting up and facing Jungkook. He’s looking as wide-eyed, easy-going, and comfortable as always. You’re not sure how long you can keep up the facade of being okay. “I was just waiting for you, that’s all.” 

You don’t wait for him to reply as you slide off the bed, grab your clothes from your suitcase, and lock yourself in the bathroom. You ignore the lump in your throat as you brush your teeth, as you get your day started. Finally, you look up at your own reflection in the mirror. Unlike previous times, when there had been a glimmer to your gaze—you don’t know you recognize the now disheartened individual before you. 

You exit the bathroom and immediately turn to pack up your suitcase once more, ignoring Jungkook in the process. The boy is on his phone, typing something—probably a text message. Maybe he’s responding to Jennie, confirming their date for tonight, as he remains completely oblivious to your feelings. 

The thought brings the tears back to your eyes. 

“Ready to go?” Jungkook asks, all smiles and soft eyes as he slides off the bed to face you. 

You don’t look at him as you shoulder your carry-on bag and straighten into a standing position. “Yeah.” You don’t mean for the tone to come out dry and unresponsive, but you’re too focused on trying to get the tears out of your throat. 

You miss the way the smile slowly slips off Jungkook’s face as he watches you move towards the door. 

Jungkook moves towards you, reaching forward to take your suitcase from you just as he’s done for the past few days. 

You, however, brush him off. “It’s okay, Jungkook.” You pull open the door and make your way down the hallway without looking back to see if he’s following closer behind you. You don’t need his help, you don’t need his pity. You don’t need him to do these things, to lead you on—especially if he was going to end up with some other girl at then end of the day. 

You stay quiet as you make your way to Jungkook’s car. Jungkook steals the occasional glance in your direction, seeming to finally realize that something is wrong. 

He, however, doesn’t say anything until you’re back on the freeway—on the five hour drive towards the wedding venue. “Everything okay?” 

You’re playing with your hair, but you stop long enough to spare him a short glance. You’re not even looking at his face, you’re looking at the chair he’s seated on. “What do you mean?” 

Jungkook clears his throat. “You’ve been really quiet since I got out of the bathroom. You…” He gestures to the center console. “You’re not even playing any music.” He tries for a smile. “I’d really like to listen to your ‘everything’ playlist.” 

“Sorry, I’m not really in a music-listening mood right now,” You whisper, realizing that you should probably cover up your ass a little better than you are currently. “S-Sorry, I think it was something at the restaurant yesterday. I’m not feeling super hot right now.” 

“Oh no, do we need to stop by a pharmacy or something? I can run in and get some stomach machine or whatever—!” 

“Jungkook, it’s fine.” 

Maybe it’s the finality of your tone, or the sharper edge in your voice, but Jungkook quiets down again. One glance in his direction shows you the furrow of his eyebrows, the set of his jawline—he looks hurt and confused. And that kills you inside. 

A small part of you wants you just lay all your cards on the table—to admit your side of the story and let him know about the texts and the hurt feeling still eating itself at your heart. 

But another part of you, the bigger part of you, doesn’t want to give Jungkook that power. You don’t want to be the one to crack first, to be the one who gets hurt first. So you refuse to say anything, settling deeper and deeper into the seat of Jungkook’s car. Contrary to your initial thoughts, he doesn’t plug in his own phone to play his own music. He simply allows the pair of you to bathe in silence. 

Without the music to distract you, without Jungkook trying to make conversation, it forces your mind to linger on the events of the early morning. Maybe Jungkook didn’t tell you because it was obvious to him that the pair of you would never have been a plus one to the wedding in general. He’s probably hurt because Jungkook can’t get his way with you. 

The realization that he doesn’t even have the consideration to warn you ahead of time that an invitation for a ride doesn’t equate to an invitation to be a plus one brings the tears back to your eyes. Did you not even deserve a warning? Why would Jungkook let you kiss him, let you fall in love with him—only to turn his back on you like this? 

You have to keep your eyes glued to the window of the passenger’s side of the car, just to make sure Jungkook won’t see the tears. You can just imagine that he’ll ask, and the conversation will steer the pair of you into an even more awkward space. 

It’s a very agonizing five hours. Not having that time to recover from the shock of those texts is becoming increasingly more difficult for you to handle. 

There are a few times that your tears overwhelm your whole system, where you have to sniff to get a handle on your body’s response to the emotions going through your body—which you’re sure Jungkook can hear. After all, there’s no music playing and there is a silence that is threatening to swallow you whole. 

Jungkook, however, does not say anything in response to your very obvious sniffle. He merely tightens his grip on the steering wheel, and keeps his mouth shut. You wonder if he’s waiting for you to talk first, to explain what’s going on with you. 

The sky is bleeding orange by the time Jungkook pulls into the new hotel, the final hotel. There is still two hours until the wedding is set to start, but every nerve in your body is screaming for you to leave and go back home. Every nerve in your body is telling you that you don’t belong here anymore. 

“Okay, I let you have your peace for the whole drive over,” Jungkook starts off, voice tight, fixing the car into park. “But I’m asking you this right now. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t seem fine… and I’m worried about you…” He reaches across the car to land a hand on your shoulder. It’s a completely normal gesture, especially between you and Jungkook, but you cannot handle it. 

You jerk away. “I’m fine,” You snap out, actually fixing your gaze on him this time. Jungkook recoils, immediately retracting his arm from you, looking like you just burned him. You tear your gaze away from him. You’re not strong enough to see him hurt because of you. “Why do you care anyways?” 

Jungkook exhales in disbelief, turning towards the steering wheel of the car and running a hand through his hair. “What are you talking about? Is this about last night? Did I… say something to scare you off?” 

“This isn’t about what you said, this is about what you didn’t say and what you’re not telling me!” 

Jungkook looks like you just grew a second head. “What are you talking about?” 

You whirl back to face him. “Oh, so the fact that you and Miss. Jennie were already set to go to this fucking wedding together and you didn’t even think to give me a heads up and tell me?” 

Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. “What? How did you know about that?” 

You laugh, but it’s a hollow noise that only makes that lump come back to your throat. “Nevermind,” You bite out. This time, you don’t stop the tears from resurfacing as you give Jungkook a full look this time. His demeanor changes from frozen to pained at the sight. “I hope you guys are very happy together.” 

You don’t say another word as you fumble with the latch of the door before pushing it open with more strength than necessary. You can vaguely hear Jungkook struggling with his own seat belt, but you don’t care. You slam the car door shut and storm away. You don’t know where you’re going—maybe around the corner to scream, or to call a taxi that’ll take you to the airport. You don’t care about the wedding. You don’t think you could face the embarrassment in facing Jungkook or Jennie or Irene right now. 

“Shit, Y/N! Y/N!” Jungkook is calling for you now, his footsteps loud against the asphalt. 

Everything feels like you’re going through water, which is probably why Jungkook is able to reach you as quickly as he does. He catches you by the wrist. 

“Y/N—please, will you stop and just listen to me?” 

“No! Jungkook, let me go.” You start trying to tug your wrist, trying to pull yourself away from him. “Let me go! I’m leaving! I don’t want to see you anymore!” You’re gasping, the tears blurring your vision and making you feel powerless. 

Without a warning, Jungkook pulls you in his arms. Wrapping his arms around you, he traps you in his embrace. And you are miserable. 

“Stop it!” You gasp, trying to push him away. You’re heaving—crying and trying to escape from someone as strong as Jungkook is definitely a workout for your body. “Jungkook, leave me alone. This is all my fault.” 

He pauses. “What do you mean?” 

You stop struggling, allowing Jungkook to hold you as you pull back enough to look away from his face. You wipe at the tears on your face. “It’s my fault anyways. I said I liked you and you said you liked me too, but maybe that wasn’t enough for you. Just because we like each other doesn’t mean we’re exclusive. I should have asked up front, so I wouldn’t get hurt in the long run.” 

“You don’t need to get hurt though,” Jungkook whispers kindly, his voice overcoming the blood in your ears, as well as your own yelling. You quiet down at that, except for your own lungs contracting to catch more air. This leaves you a hiccuping mess. He waits until he knows you’re not going to say anything next. “You’re right, okay? Jennie and I were supposed to be each other’s dates.” 

You’re still trying to catch your breath. 

Jungkook rests a hand on top of your head, curling his fingers through the strands of your hair soothingly. “Are you okay?” 

You hiccup. “Why are you telling me this? I just told you that I’m hurt right now…” 

“Shhh.” Jungkook pulls back and cups your face in his hands so you can look at him. “You aren’t listening to me. I said we were supposed to be each other’s dates. We’re not anymore.” 

You blink, allowing the tears that were already filling your eyes to fall down your cheeks. Jungkook wipes them gently with his thumb. “What?” 

Jungkook’s gaze flickers between your eyes. “Jennie and I are friends, so we’d figure it would be fun to just go together and have a person to sit with, eat with, and dance with. As friends.” 

“W-What happened then?” You ask, a watery color in your voice. 

Jungkook gives you a gentle smile, the kind of gesture that tells you that you should know the answer already. “You happened, silly.” He keeps his eyes on yours. “I saw you at the party with Jimin and invited you to come with me. I assumed when I asked that we’d be each other’s plus ones. I forgot to tell Jennie though when I asked you out.” He tilts his head at you. “You saw the texts on my phone, didn’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry.” You hiccup again. “Your phone kept going off this morning and I was just trying to put it on silent. I-I didn’t mean to look through your messages…” 

“Shh, baby, you’re good, you’re okay.” Jungkook interrupts gently, wrapping his arms tighter around you and swaying the pair of you back and forth. The usage of the nickname fills you with a new feeling, a warmer feeling. It helps calm you down. 

Your breathing eventually evens out, bringing you back to reality and to the realization that you and Jungkook are hugging in the middle of a hotel parking lot. 

Jungkook loosens his grip on you, letting you step back. He watches you for a moment. “Here,” He says, digging through his pocket and pulling out his phone. “I think you should see this.” He clicks through a few of his apps, until he seems to find what he’s looking for because he hands the phone to you. You look over at him, confusion flooding through your features. Jungkook gives you a reassuring nod. “It’s okay.” 

Still hesitant, you take the phone and look at the messages across the screen. It’s the texts from this morning. 

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts 

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think 

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :) 

Jungkook (10:20AM): hey Jennie !! oh shit i totally forgot to let u know but i actually found a plus one :( i’m soooo sorry i should have told you earlier omg i feel terrible 

Jennie (10:20AM): no worries jungkook !! who is it omg do I know them? 

Jungkook (10:20AM): it’s actually Y/N? We all went to college together… 

Jennie (10:20AM): OH!!!! wait isn’t she the one Irene was working with a lot for senior projects? 

Jennie (10:20AM): OH HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO

Jennie (10:21AM): OKAY JUNGKOOK I SEE U 

Jennie (10:21AM): she’s THE Y/N right???? the one u were in love with for our entire college career?? 

Jungkook (10:22AM): …… maybe? 

Jennie (10:22AM): WOWOWOWOW good for u Jungkook !!! glad to see u finally having the balls to ask her out !! 

Jungkook (10:22AM): OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH 

Jungkook (10:23AM): I actually felt BAD for leaving you by yourself BUT NOT ANYMORE 

Jennie (10:23AM): LMAO Jungkook I’m friends with Irene’s entire bridesmaid row i’ll be fine 

Jennie (10:23AM): just go get ur dick wet!!!!!! 

Jungkook (10:23AM): istg i will leave you on read 

Jungkook (10:23AM): also that is NOT the point!!!!!! Just wanna love my new girl :( 

Jennie (10:24AM): You’re gross 

Jennie (10:24AM): but sounds good see you tonight! 

You look up from Jungkook’s phone to see him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction, pleading for you to forgive him. 

The only thought that can be translated into a coherent sentence comes out: “You were in love with me during college?” 

Jungkook exhales in a laugh, his arms finding your waist once again. “I think ‘in love with’ was a bit of a stretch back then. I think you could agree that we didn’t know each other well enough before for me to say that.” 

You’re still looking at him. “Back then…?” You echo. 

He nods. “Back then.” He brings you closer, one hand moving up to gently brush at the skin of your cheek. “But it’s different now. Now, I can say with absolute certainty that I’m in love with you.” 

Your lips part. “You’re in love with me?” The tears spring back into your eyes, but for a different reason entirely. The emotional rollercoaster you have just been on is unbelievable. 

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight of your tears. “Oh shit, I’m sorry! Is that too fast? I’m sorry, I should have given you a warning or something. Or more time at least. Oh no, please don’t cry…” 

You brush him off with a watery laugh, waving his concern away. “It’s okay Jungkook. This is fine, really.” You give him a smile. “I love you too. I really thought you were pulling my leg or something.” 

Jungkook gives you his own small smile. “I’m sorry. I should have brought this up sooner about us being each other’s plus ones. Just because I assume something doesn’t mean it’s an established thing.” He brings you closer, his smile turning into a grin. “You love me too, huh?” 

You giggle. You’re too strung out to come up with something witty or clever. “Yeah…” 

Jungkook is still smiling, his gaze switching between your lips and your eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” 

You nod. “About time.” 

He kisses you again, softly and sweetly, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips but it’s gentle caresses that make your heart feel like it’s crawling up your throat. 

“OH MY GOD GET A ROOM!” A voice calls from the other side of the parking lot, forcing you and Jungkook to pull away. The pair of you look at each other and you start to laugh. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead, sweeping down to your ear. “How about we check into our room and get ready?” 

You giggle, nodding over at him. “That sounds good.” 

So Jungkook leads the way, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you gather your suitcases from the car and enter the lobby. You check in easily, as Jungkook is provided a map with directions on how to reach the room. 

The pair of you don’t pull away once until Jungkook is sliding the key card into the door and pushing it open to reveal the bedroom you’ll be sharing for the night. 

Both you and Jungkook park your suitcases near the foot of the bed, as per usual. 

“Do you want to use the bathroom?” Jungkook offers. 

You nod, smiling softly. “Okay.” 

You gather the dress you’ve brought in your arms, about to enter the bathroom, before Jungkook’s voice stops you. “Hey,” He calls, approaching you and wrapping you in his arms again. He’s much more handsey this time, like he needs to make sure you’re not going to run away again, like you’re going to be okay. “You feel better now?” His thumb brushes your lips. “Your eyes are still a little red.” 

You nod. “The makeup will probably help that,” You reassure in a soft voice. 

Jungkook mirrors your movements. “Still, how about I get some ice for you so you can put something cold underneath your eyes… to stop the puffing.” 

He looks genuinely concerned and worried for your wellbeing that you can’t help but smile. Since he is insisting, you decide to just let him be. “Okay, Jungkook.” 

He smiles. “Okay! You start getting ready and I’ll get the ice, okay?” A quick kiss on your cheek before he’s bounding out of the door with the provided ice buckets. 

Your eyes linger on the door for a few minutes before you’re turning back to your suitcase. The dress you have picked is a pink flowing floor-length number—something Karly helped you pick out before leaving. It’s soft enough that it doesn’t leave crease marks along the fabric, which had made this outfit perfect for the trip. You take the dress and your bag of makeup before entering the bathroom. You’re just slipping on the dress when you hear the hotel room door open and close. 

“Okay, I got the ice!” Jungkook announces through the bathroom door. “Did you want to work on your eyes right now?” 

“Sure,” You call back. “Do you mind zipping me up first?” 

“Of course,” Jungkook returns, sounding distracting as you open the door to the bathroom. You peek your head through, noticing Jungkook opening his suitcase on the floor and sorting through it—probably for his own suit. 

He must hear the door open, because he looks up towards you. Immediately, his eyes widen as he straightens up into a standing position. “O-Oh wow…” He’s looking you over up and down, up and down, as if he needs to commit this to memory. “Y-You look great. Beautiful.” 

“Really?” You stammer back. “Thank you.” 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on you as he approaches you. “You needed me to zip you up?” 

“O-Oh right, yeah.” Hastily, you turn around, brushing the hair from your back to expose your undone zipper, and your bare back. 

You think that he purposely grazes the tips of his fingers against your skin in his process of bringing the zipper up to the top of the fabric. You’re about to turn, thank him, but his hands back at your waist do the gesture for you. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You look really pretty.” 

You pout. “You’re being too nice to me.” 

Jungkook whines, hugging you close to him. “You’re too cute.” He noses at your temple. “I just wanted to see you smile.” He pulls away after a moment. “Let’s take care of your face, yeah?” He turns around and returns with a small baggy full of ice. “Here, sit down for a second.” He leaves for a second, returning back with a towel. “Maybe… five minutes each eye. I don’t know. I’ll get ready while we’re waiting.” 

So he takes his suit out from his case and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with a towel of ice pressed against your eye. The cooling sensation definitely helps with the puffiness. 

Jungkook appears from the bathroom a few minutes later—dressed in a black suit with a white button-down and a long skinny black tie. His hair has been fiddled with a little, but he still has that messy, boyish, lovable appearance that makes your heart race. 

“Did you switch the towel?” 

You nod. 

“How do you feel?” 

Slowly, you bring the towel down and rest it on your lap. You look at Jungkook. “How do I look?” 

He leans forward towards you, holding your chin gently between his fingers. “You look better. Did you need to finish getting ready?” 

“Yeah. I just need to touch up my makeup.” 

“Okay, go ahead then.” 

Jungkook takes the towel, and watches as you make your way back to the bathroom. You’re only gone for a few minutes before you’re emerging once more—eyeshadow a little darker, lashes a little closer, and lips slightly pinker, but overall still looking like the same version of the girl he fell in love with. 

The pair of you drive to the wedding venue, a cute brick building with browns, greens, and whites surrounding. Guests already swarm the outside area, some of whom you recognize from college. The sight makes you nervous. 

Jungkook sees this, and he reaches over to grab onto your hand. “You can just stick with me, okay?” He smiles. “I’ll protect you.” 

You roll your eyes, but you are thankful to have Jungkook as your source of comfort and be that person you could run back to. 

He parks and meets you at the front of his car, where you lace fingers and make your way towards the venue. You go through a small round of hellos and ‘nice to finally meet you’ conversations—most notably from Mingyu and Jennie, both of whom light up at the sight of your presence. Contrary to your previous worries, you find that you don’t really need to be so nervous. Mingyu and Jennie are friends of Jungkook’s for a reason—they radiate a relaxing nature that you can tell is what has drawn the three of them to each other. 

They ask about you, your college experience, your current experience, passing easy conversation in the ceremony space right before the start of the wedding. It’s fun to see Jungkook joking around with the friends he grew up with, and even more fun to see how easy you are allowed into that world. 

The actual wedding ceremony is a blur. You vaguely recognize the extremely attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Seokjin at the head of the aisle. You definitely recognize the equally as attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Irene, downed in white lace and looking much more beautiful than you ever remember her. Vows are exchanged, kisses are shared, there’s an applause, and pictures are taken before the guests are ushered into the main entry room—decked out with a bar and a few scattered seating areas. Jungkook whispers to you that guests are put here temporarily, as the ceremony space is being converted into a dining area. 

True to Jungkook’s promise, he lingers by your side most of the night. Although you reassure him that you are fine, you are much more emotionally stable compared to a few hours ago, and that perhaps you are okay catching up with Nayeon—another girl from college, actually someone from the first party you ever attended who defended you when you were receiving unwanted attention—but Jungkook simply tells you that he likes being around you. He likes being able to put his arm around you, likes to rest his hand at your waist, likes people knowing that he has you. 

It’s a few more minutes of conversation, of laughter, of old stories being exchanged between people you haven’t seen for years, when the guests are called back into the newly converted dining area. Instead of rows of chairs lined up, there are round tables filling the space. The long panel of doors once closed along the wall of the room have been opened—exposing a gazebo with a D.J. and a dance floor, all encircled by a string of big bright fairy lights. 

You and Jungkook are situated at the same table as most of the guests you recognize from college. You assume this is purposefully done to give you all a common ground, and it works because conversations spring easily between you all. Even when you’re not talking about your experiences from university, you’re able to transition from topic to topic. You and Jungkook occasionally talk amongst yourselves as you’re eating, but you sit together and laugh together when Irene and Seokjin emerge and listen in during the wedding toasts. 

Finally, Irene and Seokjin make their rounds through the room, stopping at the tables to cheer and laugh and exchange a few words of congratulations and conversation. Following this process, everyone at your table stands on their feet as Irene and Seokjin make their way towards you. There are bright smiles, Irene’s cheerful gasp as she takes in all the guests that have come to join her. She circles your table, hugging every guest, continuing this when she reaches you. 

Irene grins at the sight of you. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!” 

“I know!” You return, pulling away from Irene. “Congratulations. This wedding is beautiful.” 

She beams, absolutely radiating in her white dress and glittering makeup. “Thank you so much for coming! But oh my god, are the rumors true, did you really show up—!” She looks over your shoulder, and grins again. “Jungkook!” She hugs Jungkook. “I should be saying congratulations to the two of you. I was surprised to get the text from Jungkook saying that you guys were coming as each other’s dates. Gave me a whole pain because I had to switch some seats around at the last minute. But anything for my favorite people.” She turns to you and holds onto your arms. “Jungkook has had a crush on you for years, so you’re really doing him a huge favor.” 

“Okay, enough,” Jungkook interrupts, scowling. But there is still that playful look in his eyes. “Did all your friends know about this? Jennie knew something was up too when I texted her.” 

Irene presses her lips together. “Mingyu might have mentioned something.” She presses her hand to Jungkook’s cheek. “Stay safe, you guys. Hope you enjoy the rest of the night.” She moves onto her next guest. 

Jungkook is groaning. “Remind me to never tell Mingyu anything ever again.” He glares at the boy from across the table. “Gonna fling some peanuts at that son of a bitch.” 

You laugh, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s waist. “Oh, let him be. It’s Irene’s wedding. You can get him tomorrow.” 

Jungkook pouts, but he does wrap his own arm around your shoulder. “Ah, love my girl—promoting evil behavior after festive events.” He kisses your cheek as your table takes their seats once more. 

The good natured atmosphere continues as you and Jungkook down your food, remaining fully engaged in the conversations happening around the table. After another hour of this, the DJ announces the start of the married couple’s first dance. Irene and Seokjin take to the dance floor and spin around, her white dress flowing around the room like light. Underneath the glow of the fairy lights, it looks like the couple is in an entirely new world. And you are so taken by it. 

Jungkook does not turn to you until the DJ plays a slow song—a first slow song after a series of upbeat dance and pop genres. He jerks his head towards the dance floor. “You want to dance?” 

You take his hand when he offers. “Of course.” He leads you across the room, towards the gazebo, where several other couples have moved to cling to one another. Jungkook pulls you in: one hand on your waist and the other with your own hand. “This is really nice,” You start off. 

Jungkook laughs. “The wedding, or the dance?” 

You smile over at him. “Both. Being able to slow dance with you, however, is marginally better.” 

Jungkook is quiet for a little after that. He seems content just staring at your eyes, taking in the magic of this moment. “Thank you for coming with me,” He starts. “The whole road trip thing. Definitely would not have been as fun if I did all that by myself.” 

“Well, thank you for inviting me,” You return. “Even though we had that big misunderstanding. I had a lot of fun.” 

“Hey.” Jungkook angles his head a little so he can look at you in the eyes. “You know that I would never hurt you, right? You’re too important to me that I wouldn’t even think to pull some stupid shit like that again. You know that I love you too much to do that to you, right?” 

“I do know now,” You say, gazing over at him. “And I love you too.” 

You’re not usually an expressive person. But it’s worth saying those words just to see the grin that overtakes Jungkook’s face. It’s worth even more when he leans forward, kissing you openly in front of all his friends, nibbling gently at your bottom lip, running his tongue over the wound, and into your mouth. It’s worth it to have his fingers dusting sweetly over your skin, coaxing your mouth to open to allow exploration. 

It feels like worlds pass before Jungkook pulls away, giving you that breathless smile dimple and all, before he’s leaning forward to bury his face into your neck. 

“I think the drive home will be fun,” Jungkook mutters softly. 

“Hm?” You hum, eyes closed as he presses tiny kisses along your neck. 

“Most definitely,” Jungkook says, lifting himself just enough so that his lips hover over your ear lobe. “Because I plan on fucking you in every hotel bed for the rest of the trip.” 

You feel your heart race, your cheeks heat. Yes, this was definitely worth it. 

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook x y/n #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts angst #traci writes

[happytroopers]

Sick days // Hunter x reader

My google history search after this: what do they call toilets in Star Wars? Star Wars rabies?

Summary: I would do anything for Hunter, even take care of him when he has food poisoning. I saw a sick day prompt list and didn't end up using anything but it inspired this cluster fuck

TW: throwing up, alcohol mention but no use, bad writing I just love him ok

"Hey, have you seen Hunter? I need him to sign off on some damage reports." You announced as you entered the cockpit of the ship as it barreled through hyperspace, throwing a pointed look at Wrecker who was the main reason for most of aforementioned damage reports.The other members of Clone Force 99 made some sort of acknowledgment of your existence. Wrecker grinned obliviously at you as continued doing bicep curls with a GONK droid while Tech made brief eye contact with you before going back to some sort of machinery he’d dissected. Crosshair was the only one to actually somewhat answer your question, giving you a sassily quirked eyebrow and motioning down with his toothpick. "I’m assuming that super vague motion would mean he’s in the cargo hold?" You pressed but you had already turned around to go find the sergeant. "Should we tell ‘er?" You heard Wrecker ask but when no one answered him, you assumed things would be fine. Besides after almost a year with the Bad Batch, you’d walked in on them in all sorts of compromising moments. Nothing would surprise you anymore.

After popping down the ladder into the cargo bay, you did a cursory sweep. Crosshairs rifle was disassembled on a crate for cleaning, more of Tech’s mechanical experiments in a heap by the bay doors, your own trunk of belonging… but no sign of Hunter. "Hunter? Are you down here?" You poked a little further into the sleeping quarters, like any room that housed four soldiers who didn’t know how to mop, the smell chased you right back out. Shaking your head you thought to yourself, That should be considered a hazard zone. You paused by the fresher to listen for water running but heard nothing, which officially meant Hunter hadn’t been anywhere you checked, Hell, did he jump out of an airlock? Just as you were about to give up, you heard an awful noise come from the fresher. Like a bantha dying in a fire. Did some animal stow away? Absentmindedly you considered getting Wrecker to handle it- the last thing you needed was contracting some planet-specific strain of rabies. But then you considered that in the process, Wrecker would probably destroy the entire bathroom. And then everyone would be without a bathroom for the next two days… and that could get ugly. Then the noise came again, bringing you out of your mental debate. With a heavy sigh, you decided you’d have to check it out yourself. So, after pulling a random tool off your belt, you let the door slide open. To your surprise, Hunter was the first thing you saw, bent at the waist over the vac tube, bracing himself with one shaking arm against the durasteel wall. His helmet was discarded carelessly two feet closer to the entrance, and the enhanced trooper was heaving breaths, looking rather haggard. Almost stupidly the first thing that came out of your mouth was, "Oh my God, did the animal do this to you?" Hunter actually startled, which had never happened before. He was impossible to sneak up on, it was his whole thing. When he did look up at you, he looked confused, among other things. His skin pallor was four shades lighter than it was supposed to be, slightly greenish gray, and dew dropped with sweat. "Animal? What animal?" "The animal that made that-" You cut yourself off suddenly feeling dumb, now lamely dropping your defense tool. Then the disbelief, "Oh my- that noise was you?" He didn’t get the chance to answer again, instead turning his head back towards the vac tube to wretch again. Now with that information, the haggard appearance made more sense. "Hunter… you look like shit." You scolded, hesitantly moving closer, “Like, legitimately corpse like.” The sergeant coughed a bit before throwing you glare, “Thank you, (Y/L/N), that’s very helpful. Did you need something?” Damage reports long forgotten, you ignored the question instead more concerned with the trooper in front of you, “Why the hell are you standing like that? What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”

Hunter was confused with this sudden line of questioning, turning his head to gag a little bit but this time he kept it under control to answer you, “Clones don’t get sick.”

“So this is normal for you?” You snarked right back, “Here, try kneeling, it won’t take as much of a toll on your body like that.”

At first he didn’t listen to you, just when the ship hit a patch of turbulence it triggered another wave which forced him to a knee. Then it hit you, clones don’t get sick, they’re engineered with near perfect immune systems.

“You’ve never been sick before have you?” You whispered sympathetically, he legitimately didn’t know how to handle being sick. Frowning, worried welled up in your stomach. It was almost painful to watch the man be so sick, after all how many times had he saved you or helped you out of a tight spot, so you looked away until he quieted again. This time he took a minute to catch his breath so you took some liberties.

“First, let’s get your hair off your neck and face. You’ll feel less gross.” You promised, going behind him to gently scrape his long hair into a makeshift bun and tie it off with a spare hair tie.

“What are you doing?”  He croaked, but didn’t pull away from your hands.

“Taking care of you, now shut up and let me.” While your voice was still kind, you were just stern enough not to argue with you, “Now, lean up.”

You didn’t wait for him to follow the orders, instead you started unfastening pieces of armor on his arms before moving on to the chest and torso pieces. Moments later he was able to move a little freer and his armor from the waist up was neatly stacked to you right.

“There, that should help with the overheating.” You announced, not mentioned how he couldn’t bend over properly with a piece of plastoid against his abdomen. You gave him another once over, he was taking deep breaths with his eyes closed, little baby hairs already escaping your rather pitiful man bun situation. You’d never seen him so vulnerable.

“So clones don’t get sick, why are you throwing up like my roommate after her twenty first birthday?” You asked quietly, gently moving the stray bits of his forehead.

“Would you believe that I ate an expired meal ration?” He asked with enough doubt in your voice that you immediately shook your head.

“You’re not that stupid Hunter.”

“I lost a bet with Crosshair and had to eat part of the Yalbec stinger. Tech did say it was a delicacy on some planets.” He sighed, dry heaving again.

“I also remember him saying it was mildly poisonous to humans.” You reminded him, going past him to the shelves that held shower things. Reaching into your own caddy, you produced a rag before wetting it in the sink.

“Yeah, I lost the bet before he enlightened us.” Hunter admitted, visibly relaxing when you put the cold rag on his neck before sliding into a sitting position next to him, “How do you know all this stuff?”

“Well, us normies get sick a lot.” You teased, laughing when you caught the disgusted look on his face, “But, I learned most of this stuff taking care of my hungover friends.”

“Oh, just your friends?” It was Hunter’s turn to sass you, but you just rolled your eyes. The two of you fell into a halfway comfortable silence, so you took your data pad to do a little research on Yalbec poisoning.

“You don’t have to stay for this?” Hunter reminded you, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat off his forehead. When you looked back over to him, he was staring at you. Even when puking, his eyes could stare straight through you. Hurriedly, you dropped your gaze back to your data pad.

“Well, you spend all your time taking care of them,” you motioned up towards the cockpit, “And me. So someone has to look out for you when you need it, you don’t have to suffer alone.”

His eyes softened as he relaxed slightly, you were glad to see his coloring was already getting better. But after a few moments, even the softness of his stare brought a flush to your cheeks so you just cleared your throat, “Well, the good news is that the holonet says someone of your size and weight will be fine. Symptoms should pass within twelve hours at the most, and it’s already been five.”

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

Your head snapped back up, he rarely ever called you by your first name. Somehow it almost felt intimate.

“Of course, Hunter.”

You scooted a little closer so that your knees would touch. Closer than you had ever been to him, but he didn’t scoot away. You smiled at the small contact, shaking your head.

“Can I impart on you a bit of civilian wisdom?” You asked teasingly, not even waiting him to nod. You took the rag off his neck and used it to dab sweat off his forehead, “Don’t eat random things on a dare, especially things you cut off foreign animals.”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

#hunter x reader #bad batch x reader #bad batch hunter x reader

[true-blue-megamind]

Fan Theory Thursday – The Not-So-Evil Overlord?

Shhh… Want to hear a secret?  Come closer... SPOILER ALERT!

Okay, this one delves a little deep into the imaginative side of Megamind fan theories, however I believe it holds enough interest and has enough support to be well worth discussing.  There is a supposition which I frankly love: our favorite blue alien was an Overlord of sorts before he briefly took control of Metro City, and he had good reasons to be so.  That might sound a little crazy, but bear with me.

This idea has appeared in several fan fictions, and essentially goes as follows: Megamind was more than a supervillain; he was also a crime boss, and he chose that path for the most unlikely of reasons. Bizarre though it may seem, his primary drive was bettering Metro City.  (And, yes, I’m aware of how contradictory that sounds.)  However, it’s logical when considered more closely.  By making himself the de facto ruler of the city’s underbelly, Megamind was able to control crime to an extent, probably even setting limits on certain activities, and guidelines for others.  In the majority of fan fictions using this concept, that includs things like reducing violent crime, setting purity standards and purchase limits for narcotics, and ensuring sex workers were neither underage nor abused.

I’ll be the first to admit that, on the surface at least, this seems like nothing more than fans seeking to justify or even moralize a beloved character, but research reveals that there is actually some support for this theory.  Firstly, there is the fact, touched upon previously in the Fan Theory post concerning the Warden, that Megamind was clearly already establishing control over other criminals at a young age.  While writing a truly wonderful blog article, Demishock actually went through the trouble of deciphering the newspaper clipping shown at the beginning of the film’s title sequence.  It contains, among other things, a reference to the fact that, although an elementary school age child, Megamind was feared and obeyed by other inmates at the prison where he grew up.  A quote from the Warden reads: “I've got experienced, hardened criminals in here who are afraid of him.” The article goes on to mention an incident which involved a few other inmates, adding that “the other prisoners refused to point fingers for fear of retaliation.”

It is quite possible that Megamind was already building and consolidating a base of power.

Next, there is the fact that the blue man seems to have lines he won’t cross, even as the self-proclaimed Evil Overlord. In one of the storyboards, when Megamind is approached by the Doom Syndicate, he clearly holds them in disdain, yet they are careful to placate him.  Obviously they have somewhat different standards.  When Agent Orange—who was later reimagined as Psycho-Delic before being cut from the film entirely—compares Megamind’s “inspirational” defeat of Metro Man to “a car crash on prom night,” the blue alien looks rather disgusted. Although they refer to celebrating his victory, it also seems the Doom Syndicate may be indirectly asking Megamind’s permission to go on a crime spree. While this may be because he is the new Overlord, it seems odd that other villains would immediately leap to the assumption such approval is necessary if they were accustomed to acting on their own. However, if they were already in the habit of requesting the blue alien’s sanction, their actions make more sense.

Whatever the case, it seems that, once again, Megamind and the Doom Syndicate may have very different ideas of what sorts of crimes are acceptable. The Destruction Worker refers to “really putting the screws to the city,” while Agent Orange adds his desire to “swim in the torment of the innocent.”  However, these suggestions don’t seem to match what we actually see Megamind doing.  In the movie, Megamind does, indeed, go on a crime spree, but none of it appears to be violent.  He certainly causes chaos, but no one seems to ever be injured.  In fact, in the DVD commentary, one of the creators even states outright that the supervillain never goes beyond vandalism and theft because he doesn’t really want to hurt anybody.  (Indeed, in the film it rather seems that, by being raised in jail, bullied, and constantly rejected, Megamind was pushed into supervillainy.) This, together with the previous evidence, paints an image of a man who has been forced to do some harsh things, but who nonetheless dislikes violence and, deep down, possesses a certain moral code, albeit a skewed one.  

There are, in fact, several other details that point toward Megamind being far from truly evil despite being a supervillain.  As I mentioned in Megamind and Identity, he displays several redeeming qualities, such as his largely friendly treatment of Minion, his respect for Roxanne’s intelligence, and his playful, affectionate game of fetch with the brainbots.  However, I won’t go into a long explanation about that here as it can be found in the aforementioned post.

Nonetheless, I don’t believe we can seriously expect that the former villain has never once hurt anyone in his life.  Keep in mind that, as discussed in the post How Strong is Megamind, the blue alien almost certainly had to fight in order to survive.  However, his unwillingness to attack citizens suggests that he only injured others when it was absolutely necessary.  Similarly, the aforementioned “news article” indicates that he may have limited his physically aggressive responses to other criminals only. (After all, the reference to prison inmates fearing him is the sole evidence of possible violence we have.)  I have seen it suggested here on Tumblr that he may have taken over Metro City in part because he believed that, if he didn’t, someone worse like the Doom Syndicate would.  It may even be possible that he was afraid of appearing soft and thus losing control over the criminal underworld.  

Of course, it has to be mentioned here that Megamind also fought with Metro Man, who certainly wasn’t a criminal.  However, there are two factors that I believe need to be considered.  The first is that it is very likely that Megamind didn’t expect he could truly harm his nemesis. This is evidenced by both the his apparent shock when Metro Man seems to actually be dead, and by his overt statement during the museum scene that he “didn’t think it would really work.”  The second is that, as young Metro Man was a bully, tormenting Megamind without provocation and encouraging other children to do the same, Megamind may have mentally placed him in the bad guy/threat category.

His lack of violence is not the only proof that Megamind had a better heart than most credited him for even when he was a supervillain. Keep in mind that he had a holographic disguise watch and a hoverbike.  Presumably, Megamind could have simply fled Metro City when Titan turned evil, but he didn’t.  Instead he went to Roxanne for help, stating that if they could not find the new villain’s weakness Titan would “destroy the whole city.”  And this was after Titan had tried to kill him.  Clearly, despite being a supervillain, Megamind cared enough about his home town to put his life in danger.

The final support for the Benevolent Overlord theory is less obvious: Megamind had to have been getting funds from somewhere even when Metro Man was still functioning as the Defender of Metro City. (Indeed, in some of the early concept art, the Evil Lair was imagined as a luxurious space boasting things like a huge library and a sleek laboratory.  Some fans still picture the living quarters in much the same way despite the creators stating that he built his inventions from whatever he could get his hands on.)  Near the beginning of the movie, Minion mentions a supplier in Romania, and presumably he and Megamind had to be getting food and other necessities somehow.  While it’s true that the blue villain was clearly not above thievery, we also know that his plots were always defeated by Metro Man, so it’s safe to assume that he rarely if ever got away with stealing anything before the former hero’s supposed “death.”  Of course, it also seems extremely unlikely, even laughable, that Megamind would have had a day job.  Where, then, did the money come from?  Many fans theorize that, as the local crime boss, he received a cut from all illegal activity. It certainly seems like the most probable explanation.  

Art by Kory Heinzen, found in The Art of Megamind by Richard von Busack

So why would Megamind build his technology and machines largely from scrap if he had a constant cash flow?  Given his concern for the city, several fan fictions have imagined the blue man secretly and anonymously donating a significant portion of his ill-gotten money to various charities and non-profits.  That idea is not directly supported by any evidence, but it does fit with what we know.  It’s also consistent with Megamind’s character: a feared supervillain who possesses a surprisingly good heart and, given his past, knows too well what it’s like to be thrown away by society.

So, was Megamind a crime boss as well as a supervillain?  Did he use that position to secretly better life in Metro City?  If so, is he still doing that now that he is the Defender of Metro City, thus curbing criminal activity from within as well as fighting it from without? (For the record, given that there is no apparent gang war happening during The Button of Doom, I would propose that the answer to the last question may be yes.)  These are certainly interesting ideas to consider, and the mere fact that this animated film offers enough details to argue the point is a testament to just how well-constructed the movie is.  I consider it yet more proof that the film Megamind is truly an underrated masterpiece.

#Megamind #Megamind movie #megamind fan theory #fan theories #fan theory #fan theory thursday #Overlord #crime boss #good bad guy

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty Two | Another Medium (Part 2 of 4)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

"Hurry, ren. We're gonna be late!"

You smile down at Frisk and watch as they tug at the edge of your shirt to try pulling you along with them.

The door's left open, and even though those meant to pick you up for the event aren't here yet, they still urge you to go outside and wait.

"It's only seven, honey." Your thoughts drift back to your video call and Sans's most recent text message, letting you know half an hour later that he'd be here soon. "We've got a few minutes left." You grab their hand and put a stop to their energy, facing their eyes. "Are you that excited about starting school?"

They nod and grin wide. "Even more, if you're gonna be working there, too!"

Your smile falls as you remember the folder Sans had given you. It had been thrown into the farthest corner of your bookshelf that same day, and you'd been too reluctant to look at it any more ever since. You didn't want to take their kindness and help for granted, just as much as you didn't want to forget about your reasons for learning more about monsters. Your godmother was right in terms of you needing to understand them more, so you've established it upon yourself to bring that up during your first, official date night with the skeleton. Understanding the changes being made to the Underground could aid you with the slim chance of finding a way to either halt or delay it from becoming a big tourist attraction, and you could finally be more clear and upfront about your feelings related to the dream -- even if all of that was easier said than done. Not only had you crossed far too many boundaries with him already, but you were still keeping your dubious relationship with him, all while continuing to be wary of him and everyone else for their past. The subtle but no less irate light to his gaze when having your aunt bring up the the Judgement Hall had been more than sufficient for you to try something -- or at least, assist him and every other monster with that process.

In short, hypocrisy's absorbing you bit by bit, and today's your very first attempt at trying to break free from that. Whether you succeed or not doesn't matter. Giving it a shot, on the contrary, does. Even the slightest amount of closure achieved with your research could help in setting your thoughts straight, and -- perhaps -- to finally stop yourself from comparing monsterkind with Jerry.

To put it this way: you couldn't allow yourself one thing if you were allowing the other to continue happening.

After all, why were you willing to engage in a relationship with someone like Sans, when you were still far from forgiving and much less forgetting Jerry over abandoning Frisk for so many years?

Why were you willing to befriend someone like Alphys, who'd been close to ending up in jail due to the failed experiments made on those of her own kind?

Why were you willing to book a night at Mettaton's hotel, knowing he'd once set Frisk into danger greater than any other monster you knew had -- Undyne being a close second?

Even someone like Papyrus brought harm to them once!

"Ren," Frisk calls out, tugging your hand. "You look angry. Are... Are you okay?"

You nod and let out a breath, composing yourself. "I'm fine, honey."

"Are you still thinking about avenging me?"

Your eyes shoot wide open at that, and you can't avoid suspecting they might have the capability of reading your mind.

Regardless of their word choice, you were -- in a sense -- wanting to avenge them from anyone who'd once caused them harm, be it Jerry, the monsters, or the loud and nosy neighbour from next door wondering why Frisk enjoyed playing with action figures just as much as they did playing with princesses.

"Ren!"

Hearing their whine of concern, you snap out of it and look down to see they've let go of your hand, both their arms now outstretched and in wait for your embrace.

"Do you want a hug?"

Your smile returns at that, albeit a bit more melancholic compared to the first time. You get down to their height and pull them in for a hug, sighing when you have them safe in your hold; it feels right to have them close and in your care, no matter how much your mind insists otherwise. The question you brought up back at the Judgement Hall still feels like the most subconscious part of your mind had possessed you, insisting you turn back to how you used to be after Frisk's fall.

"You don't need to protect me that much!" they say, letting go. "I... I know all the monsters well, so I'd tell you if any one of them's bugging me. You don't need to hate them for my sake, and you don't have to compare them to dad, either." Without a doubt, if humans still had the capability of using magic and spells, you would label them a mind reader. "You should get to know them on your own first, and not just based on who they are to me. Because if that's really all up to me, then the only one I don't really like much is..."

At that, they stop; they bring a finger to their chin and tap it twice, delving deep in their thoughts along the way.

"Huh..." Frisk taps their chin again and their gaze turns furrowed, scrunching up the more they think about it. "I mean, I don't really know if I dislike any of them... I just know I wanna have friends!"

You're compelled -- if not, urged -- to argue against that, though your heart stops you from spilling any of those thoughts out. Still, your mind attempts to push through it. Personal feelings couldn't cloud your judgement, if that meant it could bring harm to your child.

"Even if they-"

Hearing the engine rumbling as Papyrus parks close by the sidewalk is a blessing in and of itself; the aforementioned date night with his brother can't get here any sooner. You need to sort your thoughts out once and for all. Almost half a year of waltzing with the seemingly never-ending issue of Frisk's journey and the bonds they made through it was far too much. If you were slowly making friends with those same people too, then you needed to stop this at once. No matter how much you wanted to avoid said confrontation, that had to be done -- for both CPS and reasons beyond.

"You're right." You huff, bring a hand to your forehead, and go lower to massage the brim of your nose. Not a moment after, you fix your glasses, look back to their side, and form a smile. "Thank you, dear."

• • •

You close your eyes just before the monster presses a damp cotton ball to your wound.

Isopropyl makes it sting immediately, yet you're too busy with your thoughts to care about it that much.

"You okay?" Sans asks, meeting your eyes when you open them. "You've been quiet since we got 'ere."

"I'm okay, but..." You think back to how you greeted him with a wave, right as you did with his brother. While the monster before you didn't seem to mind it, you can't avoid the thought of how you used to be with Jerry. It was easier to be more affectionate back then, and it was easier still greeting him with a kiss -- be it a simple one on the cheek or a quick one on the lips. Now, you can't so much as imagine the prospect of doing that with your new partner without overthinking or feeling stressed about it. "I was wondering if we... if we should maybe keep our relationship private -- f- for now?"

He finishes wrapping the bandages and fixes them tight before replying with, "That's fine with me. Did you watch the video?"

"No, I'm..." You grow short of breath at the thought of how many people have likely seen it by now -- how many times it's been shared, and how many more discussions and heated arguments have revolved around it. "I'm too scared to."

You can't bring yourself to look at him any longer, so his expression falls unknown as he suggests watching it together, a question you answer to with a quiet and mumbled 'sure'.

Sans proceeds with a nod and stores all the items used back into the first aid kit before taking out his phone, settling down in bed, and holding your hand with his free one. "Really sure?" he asks, squeezing it once. You reply with an even quieter 'yes' and watch in silence as he clicks on the link sent by what you assume is several people, based on how Undyne, Brenda, and even the man from the train station -- now his friend and your co-worker -- have messaged him the same information, all three left unread. The one he chooses is farther back and dated with yesterday, this one sent by Jerry.

It plays in an instant and the first thing to appear is Asgore's garden, while murmurs are what compose the audio as the one filming shows himself around a field of trampled flowers, these now a mess of broken pots, thrashed earth, and missing rocks. A few others make him company and engage in small talk, though it ends quickly when one of them shouts for everyone to 'get over here quick'. The group does as told, leading for the cameraman to rush along with them out of the garden and into the Judgement Hall. The audio grows quiet as he ventures further, steps and voices now discreet as he films a fuzzy image of two people sitting at one of the benches laid around, with the exception that one sits on top and has their arms wrapped firm and tight around the other. Multiple people urge the cameraman to approach the scene more, making him show you and Sans kissing, albeit of a blurry quality with how much he has to zoom in so as to not be caught. Even the noise is recorded with how silent everything else is, this one mostly composed of hitched breaths and clothing shuffling against each other as you hug him closer. Thankfully, no kissing noises are recorded, something you assume is due to him having a shapeable skull rather than lips, along with how slow and careful your actions are.

The video ends when the kiss does, and it leaves you in the same silence created right before clicking on it.

Regardless, Sans opens up the page it was posted on to reveal more information about the creator.

'Am I the only one who sees something wrong with this stuff? This is the future that awaits us, if we continue to act as if we can live peacefully with these people. Opposing these changes is necessary, if we wish to keep our normalcy. Casual make outs with a being so far from human shouldn't be the norm of our world', reads the caption.

Below, some of the replies read from ones saying the poster isn't the only one who shares those thoughts, to ones who've taken the time to write an entire paragraph about the situation.

'🤢🤮'

'Absolutely not.'

'No, you're not. This is outright hideous.'

'Click here to see my 👄 HOT 🔥 noods 🍝: www.uhohspaghettios.xd'

'Wow, this is just like 1984.'

'Next thing you know, we'll be the ones living in the Underground.'

'I need eye bleach ASAP!!! 😱'

'Yeah, no. Hard pass on whatever the hell I just watched. Why did you even film this?'

'That skeleman is nothing but a closeted cradle-robber. Anyone who's met (Y/N) knows how naïve and childish they are, and them dating someone like that screams bad news. Forget that he's a monster, people! What's more important here's how he's got a liking for them despite that gap -- both mentally AND physically. He should be ashamed for bringing their reputation even further down with this video. At this point, I have trouble believing they'll ever recover from all this.'

'...Ok, but...... Am I the only one who finds this kinda.................. Hot? 👀💦'

'Of course, even a monster would try to have his way with someone like them. Look at how they're dressed!'

'To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand how wrong this stuff is. The degeneracy infesting the Surface nowadays is extremely subtle, and without a solid knowledge of social sciences, most of the immorality will go over a typical person's head. There's also the skeleton's nihilistic outlook, which is deftly woven into his characterisation -- his personal philosophy draws heavily from George Orwell literature, for instance. People like us understand this stuff; we have the intellectual capacity to truly appreciate the depths of these social rejects, to realise that they're not just ridiculous -- they say something deep about LIFE and SOCIETY. As a consequence, people who see nothing wrong with this truly ARE idiots -- of course they wouldn't appreciate, for instance, the humour in the skeleton's existential catchphrase "Genocide is wrong", which itself is a cryptic reference to Er*n Yeag*r from Att*ck on Tit*n. I'm smirking right now, just imagining one of those addlepated simpletons scratching their heads in confusion as our fight against this backwards evolution unfolds itself on their phone screens. What fools... How I pity anyone who disagrees with you and tries to defend this behaviour. 😂'

At the bottom of it all, a neglected comment reads:

'Not only are you and your companions trespassing in an unsafe location, but your recording shows clear evidence you were damaging former King Asgore Dreemurr's property. You have also chosen to film these people without their knowledge despite them being in a private area, and uploaded the footage to a massive social media platform, as well. This is punishable by law, and I will not hesitate to stand for these people, if they decide to file a lawsuit against you.'

What stands out the most goes beyond the commenter's name, as his profile picture is what captures your attention first, regardless of how well-dressed he appears in the image and how small it is without clicking on it. Sans seems to share the same thought as you, as he clicks on the man's account without thinking twice. It takes some time to load, but when it does, your mouth gapes and you find yourself at a complete loss for words.

'Gerardo "Jerry" Gonzalez Gutierrez del Valle. Family practice lawyer since 20XX. Co-founder of the first Alcohol and Smoking Helpline for monsters. Former quarterback for Ebott U's Football League,' his bio reads.

You're overcome by what feels like an hour of silence before you can process what you've read. The age-old experience of reviewing material from your textbook at three thirty in the morning arrives when you try to read through his profile a second time, then a third. Even his pictures are difficult to process, these a variety of him posing with his co-workers at the newly-opened helpline building, screenshots of his progress with quitting alcohol and his strike of days and months sober, images of him in different suits, and -- last but not least -- a couple of Throwback Thursdays from his glory days, featuring both high school and college memories. It's hard to decide which feeling out of multiple is stronger than the rest, as jealousy combines with the slightest thing you expect out of this discovery: being reminded of the good ol' days. Guilt arrives next when growing aware of your current relationship with the one sitting next to you, even if it's only the thought of how happy you used to be with the man in those pictures before everything went haywire.

"You're... You're seeing this too, right?"

You hear him chuckle and see him agree with a nod, though you can't exactly fall back down to Earth again; were this a dream, you would accept it as such.

"Yeah." The monster looks you over once before adding, "And am I imagining it, or did I catch you smilin' at 'im just now?" He winks.

"So you're telling me you're really not surprised by this, at all?"

"...Touché."

You stand up and give your back to him, irked by his assumption despite him being nothing close to serious about it. "But, please don't think I still like him." Your hands turn into fists at the thought of going back with someone like him, no matter his current intentions. "I still haven't forgiven him, and I still..." Bile rises to your throat as your stomach churns wildly. "I still hate him." Then, you take a pause to gather strength. "And maybe that's a strong word, b- but... It's hard for me to forget that's the same man who once accused me for every little thing that wasn't 'normal' with Frisk, from them running away the first time, to them refusing to call him dad -- even when I never prevented them from visiting him, and e- even when he stopped visiting them first." Your chest shakes as you huff. "I... I still dislike him, and I really hate that I remembered good things about him just now."

Your mouth refuses to shut up and makes you continue on with, "So if I still can't forgive him, how can I make a decision for CPS with so many of you and in so short of a time? I still can't decide what to do, no... no matter how much I've learnt about everyone else." Your throat turns dry, and you find it difficult to swallow. "Hell, it was only yesterday I finally gave into one of my doubts. I thought it twice before asking if you wanted to kiss, but it'd been in my mind for a long while before that."

"You're sayin' the kiss was you decidin' to trust me?"

"Yes."

He scoots closer to your side and furrows his gaze.

"Even after that dream, and even though I started it?"

"Y... Yes." You do the same as him and smile. "I trust you, and... And I know the dream's likely just me overthinking this. One thing's spilling the truth when you're drunk, and one thing's getting... too caught up in your fears -- to the point where you have these warped dreams about someone else, no matter how much they mean to you."

His irises soften in their light, and a hint of culpability seems to fall on him. "Then I'm sorry for bringin' your ex into this." You sit back down with him and hold his hand again. "It wasn't right."

"It's okay."

"Doesn't look that way."

Before you know it, you're held by your lower back, pulled close, and brought down in bed.

He stays on top, gaze focused on yours rather than on your lips or anywhere else suggesting something more.

"Have you found that help yet? Counseling, I mean." His gaze remains the same despite having changed topics so abruptly. "How're ya doin', puddin'?"

"Bubbles and Brenda suggested two recently, but I... I still haven't gotten around to calling either one of them."

"Want me to make you company while you try that now? We've got time."

"...Kiss me first, please?"

He lowers more and presses his teeth to your neck.

"Gladly."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

@merak0

@homesickinvader

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

[justhewayfaringstranger]

So, I've wanted to address this topic for a while and this post I read this morning while having breakfast is a sort of response from the universe.

I would say to start by explaining a simple concept.

Demons and spirits are not the same thing, but rather, they vary from each other. Likewise, spirits and ghosts are not the same.

• Creatures understood as "demons" exist in all religions; they are supernatural beings, typically associated with the evil, historically prevalent in religions, occultism, literature, fiction, mythology and folklore;

• "spirits" are instead organized energy with at least a certain level of sensitivity that has an energy body and in most cases also an astral body. The Latin word is a translation of the Greek prneuma ("breath", "air", "vital breath") and to some extent it can be seen in the apeiron of the Presocratic Anaximander, who had to some extent dematerialized the archè (Greek: ἀρχή ) of the other Ionian naturalists, the original principle of the universe and of every part of it, impalpable and invisible but still material, as shown by another void that, blowing inside it, fills with air matter. With the Stoics, the term begins to be compared to today's one of spirit. The pneuma belongs to the god who gives life to things and guides them according to his wishes. The pneuma is a force that manifests itself not only in the individual man but is present in all things as the "soul of the world". They are ancient entities like the world itself, part of the primordial chaos and consequently neutral in themselves;

• the term “ghost” refers instead to any incorporeal entity. The term ghost comes from the Greek φάντασμα phàntasma, which in turn derives from φαντάζω (phantàzo, "to show"; from the root φαν-, which expresses the idea of ​​"appearing" and "showing"), and had the meaning of apparition (understood as a supernatural manifestation) and only with time has its meaning been restricted to indicating the apparition of a deceased.

In 1800, with the birth of the practice of spiritism in France, it ended up rendering in the common imagination "spirits" and "ghosts" similar entities, if not true synonyms.

The French pedagogue Allan Kardec after observing a series of phenomena, formulated the hypothesis that such phenomena could only be attributed to incorporeal intelligences (spirits). Spiritual communications took place "thanks to the intervention of a medium", that is a person with particular skills who acted as mediator between spirits and living beings, during the so-called séance. This became a busines for many and most of the spiritualists were actually charlatans who swore to the victims that they could talk to the dead. In most cases, those who could afford to turn to a medium, were economically wealthy and of high rank lost and therefore for the scammer it was certainly not difficult to obtain information (even intimate) about the deceased and those around him, if at this was added some well-orchestrated play of smoke and lights, here is the "grandmother's ghost".

Having understood this, one wonders what it is then what we understand as a "ghost of a person". It is a trace left by the living. On a scientific level, death doesn't exist. From the chemical-physical point of view we are isolated systems that receive energy and produce it. But the universe itself is a closed system. So our energy is the energy of the universe. We are universe. What happens when we die? Our energy returns to the universe system. But as we know, energy is neither created nor destroyed, but it changes. So our energy is energy that has been changed in the past by others, and will be changed by others when we are gone. Death doesn't exist because energy is immortal. The energy that I am using now to tap on my laptop keyboard is the same energy that Gaius Julius Caesar used to pull the reins of his horse and to cross the Rhine. And it will be the energy that in the future a scientist will use to to be able to travel between the various space-time dimensions. Death doesn't exist, and the life of one is the life of all.

To simplify then, what we mean as the ghost of Marilyn Monroe for example, is nothing more than a sort of energetic gif of Marilyn Monroe.

I'll give you another example. Anne Boleyn died by beheading, therefore by a violent and unjust death. In this situation, she is likely to have felt strong emotions and released a huge and consistent huge amount of energy as a result. Let's say that Henry VIII was present at the execution along with a bunch of other people, let's also say that he went back to that place (or others where Anne felt strong emotions and therefore released large amounts of energy) and thought about her, let's say that Elizabeth I also thought of her mother and so many other people. All these emotions have turned into energy. If we saw energy as a palette of colors, it would be as if: the more consistent the emotions, the more intense the color, therefore, the more energy we send (even unconsciously) to the energetic image of Anne Boleyn (the energetic gif), the clearer this will be where most of the energy is concentrated (eg the Tower of London, a room in the building, etc.).

So when we go to a "haunted" place, what we see is not the "person", but a kind of still image. And according to the speech above, it is therefore normal to find this type of freeze frame in places such as castles, hospitals, etc. then if these are found on natural energy centers or lines… bingo!

Speaking instead of spirits, as mentioned before, there are no good or bad spirits. Good and bad as well as light and dark, like day and night, are a contrast present in many traditions, including native ones. This duality can also be referred to the human being and represent a moment of acting or thinking of a person. You can think and act towards the light or towards the darkness and this can also happen to shamans.

Just think of the ego and when it takes over, or when you try to manipulate, at that moment you are not in the light. But it can happen and that doesn't mean being good or bad. Acting, in fact, can also be connected with a person's karma and precisely follow what is required by this spiritual law.

Light and darkness, as in the human world, are also reflected in the world of spirits and even in this case they do not absolutely determine the condition of goodness or badness. Spirits, who in the light can be protectors, guides or allies, can also move in the dark dimension.

And if we think like the natives that everything has a spirit and that it can move between light and darkness, we can understand how there can be spirits that are particularly powerful and able to move very strong energies such as to create an effect in ordinary reality.

It is important to know the distinction between light and shadow because, from an early age, we were educated to separate the good from the bad, the right from the wrong, but for this we have become very sensitive when it comes to going to work on our shadows. As I told you, light and shadow are states of being that we all have within us. Working with shadows doesn't mean black magic, witchcraft or whatever. Simply observe the aspects of light and be able to deal with those of shadow as well. Light and darkness are two sides of the same coin that it is important to integrate.

Being half Latin, therefore leaning towards a culture extremely linked to its roots and above all to the relationship with mental spirits, it isn't difficult for me to understand this concept, and therefore despite being a Christian, I have no problem in defining myself as a witch. Of course, coming to this awareness wasn't easy, as I am partly European and therefore I grew up in a society in a Western society that is scared of what it cannot control. After years of researching my origins, my culture and theological studies, I have come to find my balance.

Returning, however, to the main reason for this post, having made the necessary explanations (and given the tools for a critical analysis of the matter), here are the points on which I personally disagree and why:

Reading books about witchcraft: Knowledge for educational purposes is by no means negative, quite the opposite. The question is whether the aforementioned "about witchcraft" book is a "spell book" or some sort of "sacred book". For example, if I find the Necronomicon tomorrow and start reading it without knowing what it is, it is likely that I will find myself living the remake of The Conjuring in the real life.

Casting most types of spells, including hexes: Same speech made in the previous point. One of the first rules of witchcraft is "know your practice". You must be aware that what you are doing is not a game and every action has consequences, even if you don't believe in the rule of 3 (everything you do comes back to you 3 times). In the specific case of curse and hexes spells, they are the most treacherous and dangerous, because you are working with dark and malevolent energies. This type of practice in particular is a double-edged weapon, which is why many witches advise against them and propose alternative methods if possible.

Practicing divination: It isn't always negative, but in some types of divination the help and guidance of spirits and divinities is sought. For example, I often do bibliomancy with the bible and even if I first ask for God's guidance, in front of each answer I ask for confirmation, because the devil was the most beautiful angel in heaven and just as darkness does not allow us to see. where we go, even a dazzling light can deceive us.

Playing with Ouija or other talking boards: Ouija is not a game and it is an extremely dangerous tool, precisely because what you do is contact spirits and entities and you cannot know who will answer the other side. Nothing good anyway.

Putting up fantasy or non-Christian artwork: Have you ever seen Annabel? Here, the principle is the same. Be careful what you bring into your home, as home is a sacred space, and nothing can enter without you giving it permission. So if you not only invite it, but rather you bring it inside and give it a space, don't come and complain to me if it is difficult to send it away.

Celebrating pagan holidays: If it's a holiday of a closed religion, avoid ruining your life. Holidays basically consist of performing rituals that often involve spirits. Learn about the history of that holiday you want to celebrate, the symbols, the rituals, and why it is celebrated in that particular way.

Celebrating Halloween: The same as the previous point, except that we all (or almost all) know that samahin is the day when the space where the veil falls and the two worlds come into contact.

Watching scary movies and TV shows: I'm not saying that if you watch The Exorcist you will be possessed, but I can't assure you otherwise either. I took The Exorcist as an example because it is known that a real ritual is performed in the movie and a lot of "disturbing" things have happened on the set of the film and to the actors. When you watch a movie, even if it is fictional, if for example it performs an evocation or a ritual you are not only witnessing, you are participating in all respects. Be careful, every person is different.

Reading (horror novels, fantasy books, comics and graphic novels). Playing (tabletop RPGs, LARP games, video games): Same as the previous point.

Listening to heavy metal music, dancing: It goes for any kind of music actually. Do you know how many pop songs I use as a spell?

Dyeing your hair: I'm not saying you'll invoke a demon, but for many cultures cutting your hair makes you more vulnerable to spiritual attack and color is an essential aspect of witchcraft.

Swearing: Wishing someone who has crossed your path death is considered a curse in all respects. Even if done unconsciously.

Drinking: Drinking, smoking… shamans have used alcohol and drugs for centuries to connect with in the spiritual world.

Having tattoos and piercings: As long as you don't tattoo Aramaic words that you don't know the meaning of, everything is fine. Before getting a tattoo in a symbol you saw in a temple in Mexico, find out the meaning of it. I'll give you an example: my cousin once bought a T-shirt with the words "puta madre" (mother whore). He had bought it only because he liked it, without knowing the meaning of the word.

Now, most of these points are mainly related to intention. As I said before, I often use music in my spells, but if for example, I use "can't be touch by Roy jones" for a protection and encouragement spell (eg a manifestation) and a few months later I listen to the same song on the radio doesn't mean it will work like a spell again. In many cases it is a question of intention. Yhat's why it is important to educate yourself.

#witch #christian witch #afro witch #green witch #witchraft #education #educate yourself #witchblr #witchy things #spirit #ghost #demon

[dog-day-morning]

THE TRUTH AND SHAKA ZULU WILL KILL YOU

In a once-popular commercial for Calgon detergent in the 1970s, a curious housewife probes the Chinese owner of the local laundry for the answer to one of the world’s eternal mysteries: “How do you get shirts so clean, Mr. Lee?” After peering over his shoulder (so as to be sure that his not-so-discreet wife isn’t standing near) the man turns back around, raises a finger to his lips and says through a smile, “Ancient Chinese secret!”

While the answer to the question posed to the laundry owner by the woman was a closely guarded secret — one that his sweet, no-nonsense wife happily ruined — it was neither ancient nor even Chinese in origin. But the TV spot famously tapped into one of the most enduring legends about the country whose Ming Dynasty rulers had a 16-to-26 foot wall built around it: the age-old traditions of secrecy.

And, like Vegas, what happened in China very often stayed in China, just get the hell out of Alkebulan!!! But if you insist on staying, you and your barbarian invader horde of Ghengis Khan, wannabe warlords can take that beatdown like Hirihito of Japan. You can indulge in Alkebulan's rich resources for a season or get on a junk boat and go back to China and rebuild your own country. If you stay in the Motherland you'll perish🖕🏿🖕🏿🖕🏿🖕🏿. As the saying goes, s**t happens. Wash ya ass. Please, continue reading… my screwed up mind !!!

Take the Black Chinese [Moabites] who once made up the entire population of China prior to Esau's attempt at reclaiming the birthright God decreed would be Jacob's while in the womb through forced miscegenation "Raping of indigenous women." Do not be confused or mislead by this post. My research was sketchy to say the least. The portion of the population before China’s modern era does not register any indigenous Moabites, for example. The fact that you’ve never heard of them proves the point. Here comes the BS. But don’t worry. You’re not alone. China has some 1.3 billion people and nearly all are just as in the dark about them. Well, either that or a billion people all swore to never-ever-never air any [ahem] ‘clean laundry’ about black folks formerly having a place in China’s allegedly homogeneous society. That's a bunch of made up monkey s**t. Frankly, even an ancient culture with the bragging rights to the longest continually recorded history, another myth, is bound to miss a few things like a heart, and some effing genomes. The former presence — up until sometime in the 20th century — of Black people in pre-modern China is one of them. Fortunately, though, old photos taken throughout China around the advent of photography can help us to fill in today some of what the historians missed on purpose. I can't believe I'm posting this. 👎🏿👎🏿👎🏿👎🏿 China’s Qing Dynasty, established by the Manchu people who ruled from 1644–1912, is described as having been a vast multicultural empire. But it appears multicultural could also be a more pleasant euphemism for multiracial. You people are like dogs, stop eating them?! Nothing illustrates this better than the Black and white photos taken by visitors from Europe in the mid-to-late 1800s. Really?!! John Thomson, an Irish photographer was one of the first to capture images that reveal a surprisingly more diverse makeup of then-contemporary China. In one of the most stunning photos taken by Thomson displayed above, six women dine together in a courtyard. Captioned “Manchu ladies at a meal,” the picture was taken in 1869 in the city of Peking (now Beijing). Seated at the center of the photo are two women: on the right sits a typical high class Manchu and on the left sits a smiling Black woman — who could easily pass as the mother of the RZA, the GZA, Ol’ Dirty Bastard, or any other member of the Wu-Tang Clan.

Apart from the physical differences in the women (including the two who were likely seated, but stood for the picture), what’s also remarkable is that when Thomson writes about them, he makes no distinctions — though there were both racial and class differences; some of them were most assuredly attendants or maids. But in the view of Thomson, they were all simply Manchu ladies sharing a meal on a day when he sought interesting subjects to photograph. I saw the photographs. The darker ones were inherently claimed to be lower case workers or servants, while the ones who looked like Lucy Liu were considered affluent, and well off. These racial disparities that evolved from hell are a sad reminder to a wound that won't stop bleeding because of man's inability to stop giving in to his base emotions. I plead cray cray, and insanity. Jacob, they would rather burn in hell for an eternity than let us live in peace for a day. God is coming back for Israel not the Christian Church that has been corrupted by the Evangelical, right wing, nut jobs.

1 Maccabees 3:48

And laid open the book of the law, wherein the heathen had sought to paint the likeness of their images.

If you study history, and read the Bible, you'll see how religion has been used to divide God's people which they're not. Some gentiles will walk into New Jerusalem, the vast majority of them won't. The Bible has been tampered with by people who are shepherds for the Devil. The Catholic Church is Satanic no matter how you cut it. The cathedral of Notre Dame had gargoyles mounted atop the edifice looking over the city of Paris, France. Do you find this to be a bit of a double minded mentality or a slap of defiance in God's face. What god do you worship? We want to know the truth from God. This world can't be trusted with an anorexic T-Rex. You'd call it a crackhead and dump him in the Labrea tar pits unless it was a female, at that point you would attempt to crossbreed it with a Chihuahua, and hope to domesticate this new animal which has disaster written all over his I'm shaking cause I need a fix quick, petrified ass. When Vatican City is destroyed let that be a warning from God to those who still have a sliver of faith in God, get a relationship with Him. Jacob, this writing piece reveals their unwillingness, and froward hearted, lack of sensibility by not telling the whole truth. Instead they give us a revised version of history that wasn't. They have been our teachers for the last 500yrs when we were there's previous. Either you learn from your mistakes or continue to repeat them.

Zechariah 8:23

Thus saith the Lord of hosts; In those days it shall come to pass, that ten men shall take hold out of all languages of the nations, even shall take hold of the skirt of him that is a Jew, saying, We will go with you: for we have heard that God is with you.

If you hate being rebuked by a Black professor with a tenure ship, you'll hate being corrected by a Black child who has 5 degrees including a specialist in biochemical, ecological science, and psychology. You're ashamed because you're proud. There were great African kingdoms that educated the anglo European that's been shrouded in history. The book of Maccabees says the people who have mislead, and lied to us are as knowledgeable as a 13yr old using crib notes. I'm nuttier than a can of Planters, the truth is in you Jacob. Utilize the authority given to you. You will have to teach them as it was in the past. Everything from Bible scriptures, to aerospace, science engineering. The educational system is designed to hold back Black children, but the 3 people with the highest IQs in the world at the time was a 10yr old Black male, an 2 Black females under the age of 8. They were the youngest members of Mensa ever. This was about 4yrs ago. You can't stop God's anointing from glowing and glorifying Him and His people. Read the rest of this article and lose your mind. Its a nauseating and frustrating read. The truth will set you free. It ain't in these hood boogers

Written accounts by early Chinese historians tell us that the Tonkin region and its adjacent areas were once a hotbed of various non-Han Chinese peoples, including those from whom the Lao Cai girl descends. But with the southward advance of the Han Chinese, such groups were pushed even further south, or gradually assimilated into the dominant population. Historian Thant Myint-U writes in “Where China Meets India” that during the 9th century, the Chinese ethnographer Fan Cho compiled the Man Shu, or “Book of the Southern Barbarians.” Fan Cho describes there the varied peoples living in and around Yunnan. Included among them were the Wu-man or ‘Black southern barbarians,’ so-called for their dark complexions. And ironically, the French author of the Lao Cai photo had the image annotated with the Chinese word “Man,” and — sadly — with the Vietnamese “Xa” (or Kha), signifying servant or slave.

With this photo of a mother and her two children by John Thomson, taken on the streets of Peking (now Beijing), something finally clicked. For reasons that won’t be detailed here (as it would take far too long to explain) more than a decade of research into the peopling of Asia seemed to suggest that any black Chinese still living in the age of photography would likely all be found in southernmost China. Black Moabites still coexist in China to this day. This is a class study in you must be dumber than an incubator.

In his 1902 book The Boxer Uprising, American photographer James Ricalton includes this photo of several dozen men, many of them likely to be executed the next day for their part in the Boxer Rebellion. The latter was a bloody, anti-foreign and anti-Christian uprising that took place between 1899 and 1901; the 2006 Jet Li film Fearless was inspired by events that took place in the aftermath of the rebellion. The same is also true of the 1971 Bruce Lee film Fist of Fury. No actors in the aforementioned films — nor any other martial arts films set in pre-modern China — ever had actors resembling the non-Han Chinese mixed in above. About them, the racist Ricalton writes:

“This is truly a dusky and unattractive brood. One would scarcely expect to find natives of Borneo or the Fiji Islands more barbarous in appearance; and it is well known that a great proportion of the Boxer organization is of this sort; indeed, how dark-skinned, how ill-clad, how lacking in intelligence, how dull, morose, miserable and vicious they appear!” I'm willing to bet you 5 million in Bitcoin that I don't have, a lifetime supply of opium, and 2 happy ending massages daily that this bougie French bastard is rotting in hell praying to white Jesus that Rumiel won't screw him up the wahoo tonight. Tickle his sack!!! Like Thomas Cromwell the powers that be went to great lengths to cover this history in ChinaTown. You can't hide the truth from a people that's tired of being dictated to, oppressed, lied on, abused and persecuted by everybody, and discredited for the contributions they've made to this damnable planet. As previously stated we don't want crumbs [reparations] we want the whole planet Black before you, and the I hate n**gers brigade showed up, that includes Moo Goo Gai Pan. As soon as his Chicken fried, Bat Man eating, pancaked backside came along, and gained some freedoms, he started emulating his zaddy, he became drunk with xenophobia like the rest. If you hate my commentary tell ya boy Biden or his Amerikkka is not a racist country VP, Kamala Harris. She's next in line to preside as Pontius Pilate over this damnation unless Biden loses his dementia. Its a joke, think or buy a vowel. If that doesn't work, swap some Budha, and kiss Mr. Nasty bye bye.

[thechekhov]

Due to popular demand, I’m making a 4-part series about how to make a comic! Check out the other parts while you’re here!

1) Thinking of a story 2) Making characters (this part) 3) Drafting pages (coming not soon) 4) Presentation (coming eventually, we hope)

So, here’s the big question: 

How do you make a good character?

I’m going to have us step back for a moment to say:

There is no such thing as a “Good” Character. Because how good a character is or isn’t is subjective. We can argue back and forth for hours about what we value in a character, but no one will ever agree. You can’t make a character that EVERYONE will like, and you shouldn’t try to.

Instead, I urge you to focus on trying to make ONE or MORE of the following:

Relatable characters

Sympathetic characters

Useful characters

“What the FUCK is goin’ on here I just wanna know” characters

I think they’re pretty self-explanatory, but let’s go through it anyway.

1. Relatable Characters:

What is says on the tin. These are character you and someone else could relate to. Maybe they’re a teenager who hates school. (Timeless classic.) Maybe they’re a young adult down on their luck and in need of money, willing to forgo some moral standards to get by. (Millennials, roll call!) Or maybe they’re just like you (or literally you. We don’t judge self-insert. There’s a reason Write What You Know is a thing.)

Regardless of what you want to believe, many human experiences are universal. Some of them are universally unacknowledged, but they are still universal. You want to just be careful about falling into the ‘my character is so special and the rest of my characters are dumb’ trope. That isn’t interesting - or realistic. 

(source: xkcd)

2. Sympathetic Character:

I also call this the Looking Glass Character. 

Even if most of us have universal human experiences, many of our own experiences are also unique to us. Some experiences are things we will never live through - but we can still sympathise with the emotional state of the characters. If a story allows us to experience new things THROUGH a character, we feel connected to them. 

Keep in mind - this character still has to be somewhat relatable. We have to be able to say “if I was in this situation, I would do that too!” Allowing your readers to believe what is happening makes the reading experience more believable.

(I’m pretty sure none of us have been a half-gem half-human hybrid suffering through trying to right your defected-the-diamond-authority war-criminal mom’s past mistakes, but seeing Steven repeatedly say “I’m fine!” as he descends into madness is something we can all sympathise with.)

Similarly, if your character is in the woods and finds a tiny house on the edge of the prairie and it’s getting dark and the house has flickering lights - whether or not they go inside is inconsequential to sympathy. What matters is if they have a good REASON to go inside. Sometimes, it’s not the actions that’s sympathetic - it’s the motivation! 

(My sister disappeared in just such a house! I must get revenge! vs I’m a bored teenager with a potentially unrequited deathwish and/or a crush on a ghost. Well... scratch that, I can sympathise with both scenarios.)

3. Useful Characters

I was previously asked what to do to avoid making your characters into a Mary Sue. This part will be about that.

Let me start by saying: I don’t think Mary Sues are as prevalent as some people bemoan them to be. 

A Mary Sue is a character that is often described as ‘too perfect’ - they can do everything, know everything, never fail at anything, have a tragic past that excuses every emotional outburst, and are overall just ‘too good to be true’. 

I think, if played correctly, such a character can still be a good one. What makes all the difference is how useful these aforementioned traits are to the plot - or to other characters. 

Let’s acknowledge some universal truths (aside from the one about the men in want of wives and the relation of such a desire in proportion to their fortune):

The plot must go on. That’s obvious. 

In order for the plot to move, there must be things happening (in one sense or another). Also obvious. 

In order for things to happen, there must be a conflict or a tension of some sort. THAT is your litmus test for a ‘Mary Sue’ character. 

“If I remove them from the plot, will the plot suffer any holes? Will they impact the plot or impede it? Will their OP superpowers make some other worldbuilding completely useless? Will their incredibly tragic backstory overshadow another conflict between other characters?”

Characters should be like legos - they must have a function within your plot. Looking cool isn’t a function. Well, sure, it CAN be - but it must also be a function that doesn’t break Newton’s Laws. An object at rest will remain at rest. If your Perfect Character is already flawless, they have no reason to change, ergo nothing needs to happen. 

Make your character serve a use within your plot!

4. WtFiGOHIWK Characters:

Do you ever watch a show, or listen to a podcast or read a webcomic and think to yourself “Okay, cool, but what the FUCK is UP with _____? What’s their deal?!”

I like to categorize these characters in a group of their own. These characters are likable ONLY because we all have a socially wired brain that makes us CRAVE comprehension of social background like drugs. We CRAVE THAT MINERAL. And the mineral is - gossip. Backstory. Tea. The DEETS. 

Many characters are somewhat of an enigma, and the initial plot doesn’t give away all their secrets. We get hooked not because the characters are relatable, and sometimes not even because they’re sympathetic - but because their social tension within a group of other characters is RIDICULOUS and we are wired to want to understand them. 

Everyone has their own examples, but one of my favorites is this asshole:

Do I relate or sympathise with Dr. House? Broadly, no. He’s obscene, rude, and most of the time he’s not even the good guy in any given episode. But his morality roadmap resembles knitting directions for a scarf and his reactions to the most mundane situations are FASCINATING. 

(Never underestimate the power of human curiosity and how strongly it can work to make your readers turn to the next page, even if your whole plot is about a dumpster truck on fire next to a fireworks factory.)

Q: So how do I make a character?

There are several options:

- Wait and do nothing. The character will happen when you least expect it or are least prepared. Now they’re in your head. They won’t leave. aaaaAAAAAAA!

- Take a person or another character you know. Change 3-5 fundamental things about them (I don’t mean name, hair color and shoe size... I mean something PERSONAL, like background, motivations, religion, dream job, species, etc.) BAM character. (I mean, is it QUESTIONABLE to write a story about your sister as a lizard who wants to go to the moon? MAYBE. Should she still be more grateful than she is? ALSO MAYBE.)

- Take yourself and change uhhh... at least one thing about the character. Try to veil the fact that it’s actually just you. Fail. Wipe away tears. Write the story anyway. Hope no one notices. 

- Write a story in your head and then think “Who is the LEAST likely person to participate in these shenanigans?” There’s your character.

Q: What should I avoid in a character? 

Honestly, you can go around to 100 people and ask this, and they’ll give you 100 different answers. What people dislike and like in characters is so vast that there’s NOTHING you can do to stop people from hating on a character. 

But yes, there ARE some overused tropes and I want to share 1 rule that I personally keep to when making characters. (Keep in mind, this is MY personal list. It isn’t the end-all-be-all, and yes, you can argue about this. But don’t @ me, I don’t care.) 

DON’T describe your character as “______ is kind and friendly until you piss them off - then they will kill you.” 

This has been my biggest pet peeve since high school - and it’s unfortunately an absolute staple of any YA character. Someone is ‘friendly’ and ‘nice’ and ‘shy’ UNTIL - you hurt their friends. Then they go berserk. 

I know it’s tempting because ‘usually demure character lets loose their True Potential’ is a very empowering thing to see. (And I admit, I think Mob Psycho 100 pulled this Trope back in by the scruff of its neck and managed to get JUST the right angle for it to work.) 

BUT it’s overused and it tells us absolutely NOTHING about your character. It’s a calorie-free fact. Feels like a description but is actively devoid of any interesting information about your character. 

Why? Because literally EVERYONE is like this. 

We are all, at a baseline, somewhat friendly. That’s... just how most people are. Societal convention tells us we must behave with some semblance of dignity and respect towards others in standard situations in order to keep peace. 

And I daresay getting pissed off and Breaking Character is ALSO a thing that most humans experience. Getting angry when your friends/loved ones are hurt is the bare minimum necessary for being relatable. 

Not to say your character can’t do this but - it doesn’t need to be described as a part of their personality any more than, say, the fact that they have hair on their head. 

Q: How do I make my character more believable? 

Research.

We all hate that word, because school usually teaches us to think of research as boring but it is ESSENTIAL to your desire to make ‘good’ (relatable, sympathetic, useful) characters. 

IF YOU PLAN TO WRITE FOR AN AUDIENCE, THEN YOU NEED TO PUT IN THE EFFORT OF MAKING YOUR CHARACTERS MULTIDIMENSIONAL. 

That means - knowing their background. Knowing details. Knowing cultural, financial, religious terms you need to know to write them believably. 

I know, I know - what if I’m just writing for myself? you say.

Well, fine. If you’re not planning to have your work be widely public, if you’re just having fun and don’t care, then write whatever you want. Make a Japanese character with a Korean name. Force your UK characters to use USA slang. Forgo any historical accuracy. Change up facts! Erase the moon landing, whatever.

But if you want to share your work with people, and if you want people to interact with your writing on a more serious level, then you NEED to know how to use Google and gather at least SURFACE information what you are writing. If you don’t but pretend you did, people WILL be jolted out of their zone.

Research the things and people you are writing about. And more importantly - READ about the experiences of the people you are writing about! Avoiding Stereotypes in this day and age is EASY. You literally have an endless, free encyclopedia in your hands. If you can send a tumblr ask, you can google it. 

That’s all for now, and CHEERS!

#how to comic #how to comic part 2 #chekhov writes a tutorial #writing

[bills-pokedex]

Worldbuilding Month: Day 9

{I s2g somebody asked me whether or not Bill owns that lighthouse in this canon, but I can’t for the life of me find it. (I still have two asks for Worldbuilding Month, though, and as I continue to put off talking about the last two topics I actually walked into this month planning on talking about, I’mma probably going to answer those. :D)

Anyway, to respond to a question that Tumblr seems to have eaten, first off, yes. Bill calls the lighthouse the Sea Cottage because he thinks he’s hilarious when it comes to names, but its actual, full name is the Cerulean Cape Lighthouse. It’s been decommissioned for the past thirty-some years, though, since most sea routes have been diverted away from Cerulean Cape thanks to the Eastern Kanto Power Station—or, in other words, the Power Plant. You would think it’s actually because of Zapdos, but no, they just diverted it because you probably don’t want to have ships sailing too close to an active power plant, you know?

But the point is, it was decommissioned and actually abandoned until Bill came along and was like, “I have no idea who I have to shove money at to have this place, but I want this to be my home now.” And the town of Cerulean Cape—because there’s a town right there, between Cerulean City and Vermilion City—was like, “...okay.”

But that’s not quite as important as which canon does this blog even take place in?

(Oh, don’t worry. We’ll talk about Bill’s actual reputation with the locals at some point this month.)

The answer is ... all of them.

Or, well, most of them except Special and Pocket Monsters (the latter of which is the one where Red has a clefairy). I’ll get into why later, but first, let me explain how this works.

Gameverse Red is the same as Zenshou Red. He’s the one who fought Team Rocket at Saffron City, defeated the mysterious Viridian Gym Leader (and chased him out of the gym, basically—though he obviously doesn’t retire from a life of crime after this point), became champion, conceded championhood to Lance, and retreated to Mount Silver.

Ash Ketchum is the one who started out from Pallet Town and then ... did everything you probably are aware of thanks to the anime. (I ignore Electric Tales canon when it comes to Ash and Gary, though I adopt the hell out of it for every other character that appeared in it. Just ... just roll with it.) Ash and Gary are a year younger than Red and Blue, the latter of whom is Gary’s cousin. (Red has no relation to Ash.)

Consider all of the above to be Gen I. You’ll need this notation for later, so just keep it in mind.

That takes care of the first gen. Subsequent gens look like this:

- Most of the gens occur exactly as they do in canon, but wherever you have a choice between male or female avatars, it’s usually the female character who goes on to be the hero and champion. There’s really no reason for this, other than a joke I cracked with a reader of a sci-fi fic I write on the side, wherein someone noted the fact that Hilda and Rosa were champions, to which I responded with, “Yes, and Hilbert and Nate ran off to start a noodle cart together.” This turned out to be half-true. Hilbert and Nate ran off to start a noodle restaurant together. They’re gay, and Hilbert keeps inflicting terrible food ideas on the customers. But anyway.

- Another note: I realize in a previous post that I name each of the champions as ... not being the player characters. As in, according to the queer culture post, Steven, Diantha, Iris, and so on are still champion. The truth is that they’re actually ... not unless a character decided to hand the title back to them for one reason or another. That means that the best way to read the earlier post is by looking at it as, “This is a list I made with these characters as champion so I don’t have to immediately explain that these other characters are champion.”

- Gen II: This means that Lyra is indeed the Johtonian champion, with Ethan Gold (meaning, Ethan and Gold are the same person) not quite completing his journey. Crystal exists as well but quit her journey to become a researcher. It was Lyra who stopped Team Rocket’s attempt to take over Goldenrod City, although this plot didn’t have anything to do with finding and reaching out to Giovanni. Rather, it was just an attempt to use the Goldenrod Radio Tower to broadcast the frequency the Rockets had perfected at the Lake of Rage. (Lyra did not stop Team Rocket at Lake of Rage; that was Ash.)

- Incidentally, Giovanni never properly retired. He merely gave up the Viridian Gym after suspicions fell on him as to what he did on the side. To the majority of the public, he still maintains the facade of an upstanding businessman who cares about the people, and his cover story for giving up the gym was that he wished to focus more on his business pursuits. (This is why trying to prove that he’s a member of Team Rocket pisses Bill off just a little. Giovanni is just too good at covering his tracks.)

- Anyway, yeah, the branch of Team Rocket that tried to take over Goldenrod wasn’t trying to find Giovanni, as mentioned above, but rather establish a better foothold in Johto. They half-succeeded. Team Rocket still has a very strong presence in the region outside of Goldenrod, and the only reason why they don’t have Goldenrod is because that city’s already half run by the local yakuza and half run by criminal rings formed by Galarian immigrants, and neither of these groups have any interest in either joining Team Rocket or putting up with Rockets encroaching on their businesses. Lyra just defeated the executives at the Radio Tower, it was the locals who chased Team Rocket out of Goldenrod. With chains, knives, and guns, no less.

- Gen III: Emerald is the canon universe for Gen III, meaning both Groudon and Kyogre were awake at the same time. The western half of Hoenn was subsequently hit with a massive heatwave, while the eastern half was pounded with torrential rain. Lanette had been taken to Ever Grande for her safety early in the legendaries’ battle, and this is how she developed a phobia of intense storms.

- Sapphire Birch (daughter of Professor Birch) and Ruby Maple (son of the Petalburg Gym Leader) teamed up to summon Rayquaza and stop the battle, but it was Sapphire who caught Rayquaza and subsequently became both the hero and champion of Hoenn (by way of defeating Steven), until she conceded to Wallace. Ruby, who didn’t want the press, left Hoenn to continue his journey elsewhere. Sapphire is still a prominent trainer in Hoenn.

- The Delta Episode didn’t happen as it does in canon, but Zinnia exists in this world. She notes that it’s very different from both the one she came from and the one “the other her” was supposed to save. Deoxys was intercepted by the government and remains a pokémon known only to government officials and top-level Symposium researchers.

- Gen IV: Full disclosure: I never finished Platinum, so instead, I follow DP canon for the blog. No one knows what actually happened at the top of Mt. Coronet, including which legendary was awakened there. We do know that both Dawn and Lucas were present but not which one specifically saved the world. Both proceeded to become champions (Lucas defeated Cynthia, while Dawn defeated Lucas, then conceded the title back to Cynthia). Dawn then went back to Sandgem to resume her work as Professor Rowan’s assistant. Lucas went to the top of Mt. Coronet with an ancient artifact and hasn’t been seen since.

- Gen V: Hilbert was Hilda’s childhood friend and started alongside her but not with her (or Cheren or Bianca). They crossed paths numerous times until Hilbert decided training wasn’t for him and proceeded to retire. Hilda went on to become the Hero of Ideals and the champion of Unova, a title she almost immediately conceded to Iris (who she let defeat her so she could go off to find N).

- Gen V.5: Nate follows a similar story to Rosa: he was her childhood friend but not close enough to travel with her. Eventually, he met Hilbert, who talked him into becoming a business partner of sorts. Rosa, meanwhile, proceeded through the rest of the canon story, obtaining Reshiram from N and claiming the title of champion for herself. She’s still the champion of Unova ... and the only one who knows where N (and by extent, Hilda) are at any given time.

- Both Black City and White Forest exist. They’re right next to each other. Opelucid is a city with a mix of both old and modern architecture, and Drayden and Iris had shared the position of gym leader until Iris challenged Hilda for the title of champion. Iris never went back to the Opelucid gym after being defeated, but she is a prominent trainer who often supports actual champion Rosa. She’s filling in for Grimsley as the fourth member of the Elite Four while Grimsley’s off globe-trotting.

- Side point, but Alder exists and was defeated by Hilda. I just keep forgetting he exists because I never actually 100%’ed BW, lol.

- Gen VI: Serena and Calem are the same person. Or more accurately, Calem’s deadname is Serena, until he came out as trans shortly after the events of Gen VI. Something about what happened at Geosenge made him realize he needed to be truthful to himself because, you know. Life’s too short not to. Besides, becoming champion kinda gave him the power to be like, “Listen. If you don’t accept me, that’s fine, but just so you know, I have literally faced the gods of life and death, survived, and proceeded to wipe the floor with this region’s Elite Four and former champion.” Diantha, of course, is 100% in support of both Calem and the aforementioned statement.

- Just as an added cherry on top, which legendary did Team Flare try to awaken? And which one did Calem catch as a result? Yveltal. He eventually found Xerneas too, but I can’t go into that in case someone actually does want to read that giant sci-fi fic I’m writing on the side.

- But yeah, Lysandre is dead as hell. Sycamore is secretly devastated, which is why Calem set off to find Xerneas.

- Gen VII: Selene, a newcomer to the Alola region, is the one who did ... pretty much all of what went down in Gen VII, including eventually taming Solgaleo (“Nebby”). Lunala never surfaced, and USUM never happened.

- Lillie eventually found her way to Bill, who took her under his wing for about a year. After that, Lillie returned to Alola with copies of Bill’s notes and a thumb drive containing what they hoped would be a cure for Lusamine. Turns out, it was, and Lusamine has been well (and in therapy) since. So ... in case anyone’s wondering what happened to Lillie after the few brief times she was mentioned early on in this blog’s history.

- Elio, a boy from Iki Town, is blissfully unaware of all of this, but he was the second person to ascend to Alola’s Pokémon League and challenge their Elite Four. Acerola kicked his ass.

- By the way, Hala was an Elite Four member for all of a month before deciding he would much rather go back to Melemele Island and resume his duties as a kahuna. Molayne took his place (at Kukui’s request) and has remained ever since. The other admins are still baffled by how this man can be a hardcore gamer and Elite Four member and still have time to both do science and run the storage system ... except Bill, who is an unrepentant workaholic who doesn’t sleep, so therefore, his opinion doesn’t count.

- Gen VIII: Victor is just one of Hop’s friends. He's traveling mostly to keep up with what Hop’s doing and support his friend, but he doesn’t really go out of his way to adventure or get stronger.

- Gloria, on the other hand, is the hero of Galar and will absolutely kick your ass in a heartbeat. She doesn’t have a Scottish accent, but she does have Cumbrian one, given that Postwick is literally supposed to be Windermere. Anyway, she’s the chosen one for Zacian. (Hop gets Zamazenta.)

- Chase and Elaine do not exist, LGPE did not happen, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.

- All of the events that are actually stated as happening above occurred pretty much in rapid succession, within a few years of each other. Or to make this visual even clearer, the timeline is as follows:

Gen I (FRLG) happened at the same time as Gen III (Emerald). > Ash Ketchum left Pallet Town a year later. > Gen II (HGSS) and Gen IV (DP) happened two years later. > Gen V (W) happened three years later. > Gen V.5 (B2) and VI (Y) happened two years later. > Gen VII (Sun) happened three years later. > Gen VIII (Sword) happened three years later > the Crown Tundra sideplot of this blog happened one year later.

This means it’s been fifteen years since Red and Blue left Pallet Town and fourteen since Ash left.

That said, circling back to Bill and his team, I know the Pokémon anime states that the storage system is a transfer system and that it was invented by someone else, but because all of this went down in the infamous porygon episode, I can say that’s not true, and you probably wouldn’t have known otherwise if I didn’t just tell you. So Professor Akihabara doesn’t exist, and the digital storage system does.

But yes, Bill lives in a lighthouse he calls the Sea Cottage. He dyes his hair green and speaks with an accent that to our ears in the real world sounds awfully British, and in addition to being a tech researcher/engineer, he studies ancient pokémon behavior on the side. His backstory (hated school, used a trainer’s journey as an excuse to get out of going, had an ivysaur that evolved into a venusaur and inspired him to become a researcher) is lifted straight from Electric Tales, but a few side details are either taken from the games (details about his family, being the son of a fellow pokémaniac who annoys the piss out of him, etc) or How I Became a Pokémon Card (he once met a dratini that was the child of a giant dragonite, and furthermore, he gave dratini its official National Dex name). As for which pokémon he’s fused with, it was a clefairy (first, according to the games), followed by a rattata (Special), and finally a nidorino (Zenshou, also games).

That said, I also ignore a lot of Special canon, in part because I didn’t read much more than the stuff related to Bill and in part because I just ... don’t really care for Bill’s interpretation in that universe. Oh, sure, it’s funny to see him try to throw hands whenever possible, but I just kinda grew up with the chiller Bill from literally every other universe. That and I kinda want to provide Bill content that doesn’t just fall back onto the default interpretation for him, which always seems to be some variation of the Special interpretation. So while I still take elements from Special (his birthday is another one, for that matter), the vast majority of the canon I use is really from other sources.

Same thing can be said for the rest of the canon used here. The short version of all of this is that I rely on a mix of the anime and games for all facts offered here, coupled with my own twists on canon when it comes to characters and timeline of recent events in order to blend the two together.

It’s confusing, but just roll with it.}

#pokemon lore #pokemon worldbuilding #pokemon headcanon #pokemon headcanons #worldbuilding month #resources #long post

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Never Close Enough to See

@sanderssidesgiftxchange 

Hello, and happy holidays! This is my gift for @peppermintsticks ! I loved writing this for you, it was a lot of fun. I hope you enjoy it, Peppermint!

Pairings: Romantic Logince, background romantic Moxiety, eventual/pre LAMP

Word count: 2831

Warnings: None, actually

and credit to @thetomorrowshow , who is amazing and beta read this :)

-

Roman didn't like mirrors. Everyone knew that your reflection was what your soulmate looked like, but he simply refused to look into them. The last time he had seen his soulmate was when he was four years old. And whoever it was, he hated them.

All his life he'd been constantly compared to other people, as if he were a failing reflection. Roman looked, and all he saw was everything he wasn't. So he never looked into mirrors. He avoided going outside after it had rained, though in puddles images were less clear. He  even stopped short of completely cleaning anything metal so it wouldn't reflect.

But he could always be at ease around Logan. Logan was his best friend, and he always kept mirrors away from Roman. Helped him spot anything that might show a reflection, especially after a mere glance at a window showed a distorted face that wasn't Roman's own triggered a downward spiral. He was Roman's only friend (other than his casual friend Janus, but they were in different grades, so never saw much of each other) – everyone else thought he was too much maintenance.

So one day, when the two 16-year-olds were doing homework, Roman was casually complaining about mirrors. As you do. Logan usually just hummed in response to what he said, or offered comfort.

“They expect me to care about finding my soulmate so much, and I just. . . don't,” Roman was saying. “I'm so sick of it. I hate my soulmate! And they don't understand that,” he finished bitterly. Logan had paused in his biology work, staring at the pencil in his hand. Roman hesitated.

“Logan?” he asked. The other boy jerked his head up to look at him, and nodded slightly.

“It does seem bothersome,” said his friend. Roman quirked an eyebrow and smiled.

“I was asking if you were good,” Roman clarified. “You were staring off into space for a minute there, Specs.” Logan stared at him for a moment, then responded only with a neutral “Oh” and turned back to his biology work. Slightly uncomfortable now, Roman looked down at his math assignment. He sighed quietly, then tried to put his friend's odd behavior out of his mind so he could focus on the equations. But no matter how hard he tried, he was still unsettled when Logan announced that he needed to get home, quickly packed up, and left.

–

Logan stared silently into the mirror. For once, the soulmate looking back at him was not Roman. It was rare that he would see one of the other faces, but whenever he did he almost never left. He needed to know who they were, but he had never once seen either of them in real life. Roman's was the only face that he ever recognized. The person he saw now was pale, with dark hair that was most likely black. He'd only seen them three times before – usually it was the kind-eyed blonde.

He shifted his weight, trying to relieve some of the pressure of 20 minutes hunched over the bathroom sink, staring at a boy who definitely wasn't Logan himself. Apparently, once all matching soulmates were aware they were soulmates and reciprocated the feelings (romantic or platonic) it was optional to see another face in any undisturbed reflective surface. But most people had sketches done each year, so they had an idea of what they looked like before meeting their soulmate.

The rest had taken Logan quite a bit of research. Why was he seeing multiple faces? Well, after hours of digging, he finally found his answer: polyamory. Whenever there were multiple partners in a soulmate relationship, platonic or romantic, each person was shown the soulmate physically closest to them.

Which meant that for some reason, very occasionally, one of Logan's other two soulmates was closer to him than Roman. Which was odd, since Roman only lived three streets away. Ever since they first started appearing, he had been contemplating what might cause this. Perhaps they rarely took walks in this direction? Or maybe it was a commute to a job or school. But that didn't explain the fact that Logan had been standing here, staring at the mirror, for nearly half an hour now.

Logan was startled out of his thoughts by movement. Or, what appeared to be movement. The face was morphing and blurring. His arms dropped from the sink, but he was transfixed by the sight. Then, suddenly, it was over, and Roman's face was staring back at him. Logan gaped at it. That was the first time he'd ever been looking when it changed back to familiar, auburn-haired Roman.

Logan had to tell him.

–

“Specs? Are you nervous about something?”

Logan answered immediately, which was strange for him – usually he took time to think through what he was going to say.

“Roman, I have something to tell you.” He took a deep breath, and Roman just watched him, curious. Then the wind was knocked out of his chest by Logan's next words.

“We're soulmates.”

Roman watched as Logan slowly shrunk more and more in his seat, but he couldn't respond. He couldn't think. How was he supposed to address this? For so long, he had– I said I hated my soulmate, thought Roman hysterically. Finally, he found his voice.

“How could you tell me?” he whispered. Logan looked away. “I-I said I hated you.”

“You said you hate your soulmate. You didn't know,” Logan answered evenly. Immediately, Roman shook his head.

“I hated the concept, Logan,” he said earnestly. “That's all, I promise.” I could never hate you.

Logan glanced at him, but he looked back to his homework, clearly staring right through it as he pretended to write something down. After a few moments, he sighed and set his pencil down. Without looking at Roman, he asked, “So what happens now?”

Roman hesitated. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't sure. But he had an idea.

“Want to go out with me?”

–

“Well, this should work,” Roman said nervously. Logan looked at him. His best friend- soulmate? His soulmate's eyes were flicking back and forth around the cozy cafe they had chosen on a whim for their date. It was called [pun name here], and it looked fairly nice. Nonetheless, this was still the most stressful situation Logan had ever been in.

“So,” Roman continued as they weaved around a few tables. “What do you want?” Logan started.

“I can order my own coffee, Roman, it's fine,” he answered. Roman immediately looked away.

“Yeah, I know that. I just thought it was a thing people do. On dates,” Roman added.

“Oh.”

Roman hurriedly filled the silence Logan's short answer had left, waving his hands slightly.

“No, no, you can order for yourself if you wish,” he said. Logan could feel a smile twitching at his lips at Roman's response.

“I will have anything that is iced with almond milk, and a blueberry scone. Thank you, Roman.”

Roman nodded awkwardly and began to back away from Logan slightly, towards the counter.

“I–” Roman bumped into a table, glanced behind him, and quickly side stepped. “I will go get that then. Find us a table, Specs?”

It almost seemed like reflex when Roman's most common nickname for Logan came back. Again, Logan found himself starting to smile. Roman must have been relaxing – Logan was still taut as a bowstring.

Nodding, Logan went to do as he was asked, lost in thought, and with a slight blush tinting his cheeks. But no one in this little cafe, on a cold, rainy day, was going to point it out.

–

It took a few minutes, but they were talking now. Once they relaxed more, it was easy to slip back into the effortless conversation that was a staple of their friendship. And now, perhaps, romance. They were debating plays and drinking coffee (Logan hadn't touched his scone, but it was half gone, and he was convinced Roman was picking off of it whenever Logan wasn't looking), and if anything, it felt like their personalities slotted together even better than before.

“But Les Mis has a compelling, tragic story line!” Logan exclaimed. Roman scoffed and took a sip of his coffee before responding.

“It gets boring, Logan,” he said. “I don't watch musicals to sit through a, albeit well sung, three hour show that feels like four! I have things to do.”

Now it was Logan's turn to scoff.

“You don't have anything to do, I'm your only friend.”

As soon as it was out of his mouth, Logan was immediately uncomfortable. And from the way Roman choked on the bite of Logan's scone he was stealing – he knew it! –, so was he. They'd joked about Roman's lack of friends before, but that was before Roman was aware they were soulmates. Now, it only serves to remind us of Roman's previous hatred of his soulmate, Logan's brain put in helpfully.

“Keyword previous, Specs,” said Roman quietly. Logan stared at him for a moment, then with the feeling of embarrassment creeping up his face, realized he had stated the thought out loud. He cleared his throat.

“Of course, Roman. I am aware.”

Silently, Roman reached across the table to squeeze Logan's hand. Before he could pull away, Logan took a deep breath and squeezed back. And when when Roman smiled at him, he couldn't help but smile as well.

–

Logan sighed, clearly frustrated, but there was a note of fondness in his voice when he spoke.

“Please, Roman, is going back to the cafe we went on our first date at really necessary?” Roman turned to his boyfriend, and placed a hand on his chest in mock offense.

“For our six month anniversary? Of course!” he answered. Logan shot him a flat look, which was impressive, seeing as Roman as currently dragging him down the sidewalk towards the aforementioned cafe. Roman returned the look with a bright smile, and he could see Logan tensing to stop his mouth from mirroring it.

“Six month anniversary, Specs,” Roman repeated. “Surely you can deal with a shady cafe for a little while?”

“Well, I don't particularly like to reside anywhere 'shady', as you put it,” replied his boyfriend. Logan had extracted himself from Roman's grip to make air quotations around the word 'shady', but he held out his arm again, allowing Roman to drag him along.

“Nonetheless!” Roman declared. “That is where we're headed – besides, we've only been three times, and every time it was raining. I think we deserve to see how it holds up in the sunlight, don't you?” Logan sighed, this time sounding defeated, and let go of any resistance he was still holding Grinning, Roman continued to pull his arm in full force.

“Roman, dear,” Logan said conversationally as they walked. Roman hummed so Logan would know he was listening. “Do you remember that couple that everyone always complained about?”

Roman frowned thoughtfully.

“The ones in the grade above us?” He clarified, glancing at Logan. His boyfriend nodded, and Roman mirrored the action.

“Well,” Logan continued. “I get the impression that if we were more public about our relationship, we would be that couple.”

Roman laughed and turned to look at Logan, walking almost completely backwards. Logan was smiling, obviously trying (and failing) to keep a straight face. Logan cocked an eyebrow, seemingly asking Roman to challenge his assumption, but Roman just shook his head, still laughing.

“No, Specs, I don't believe you're wrong about that,” he responded. He turned back around before he ran into someone or tripped over the curb, letting go of Logan's arm as he did so, and they continued walking in silence for a few moments.

“I wonder what their names were,” Roman mused. Logan was next to him now, instead of behind him, and shot him a questioning look. Roman hurried to explain.

“That couple, I mean. The one everyone always complained about for being so sappy and in love and all that jazz.”

Understanding swept over Logan's face, before clearing into a frown of concentration. “Virgil and Patton, if I remember correctly,” he said after a few seconds. Roman nodded, recognizing the names a little. He was sure he'd heard them at some point, but he would probably forget in another few days anyways.

“That sounds about right. What do you suppose they're doing now?” he added. Logan shrugged, and Roman only pondered it for several seconds. By then, they had come to the cafe door, and all thoughts that didn't concern Logan or the meal cheerfully vanished from his mind.

–

Logan carefully arranged their order on the table. One blueberry scone, which he wouldn't end up eating more than half of if Roman's stealing habits hadn't changed in the last five minutes, and two coffees. It wasn't much – they always ordered the same thing when they got coffee –, and after just a few seconds finished. He glanced up, looking for Roman, who was grabbing napkins, as he hadn't managed to drink coffee once without spilling it. Instead, his eyes met with one of two teens, probably slightly older than himself.

The one who's gaze he caught was blonde haired, with kind eyes and a soft smile on his face. He gave Logan a little wave, then turned to his companion and started talking. But Logan was still staring. Suddenly, it seemed, Roman was walking up, napkins in hand, and giving Logan a bemused look.

“Seen a ghost?” his boyfriend asked. Logan barely registered what he said, just tugged on his sleeve till he started looking where Logan was. Finally, he managed to speak.

“It's them, Roman,” Logan said breathlessly. “Our. . . other two soulmates.”

Immediately Roman was walking over to them. He had only seen one of them, the dark haired one, in the short time that he had been looking in mirrors, but if anything he wanted to know their identities even more than Logan.

Roman was offering a handshake to the two boys, and Logan belatedly followed him, offering his own hand once he came to them. Roman had been in the middle of introducing Logan as he arrived, so Logan saw no need to say anything yet.

“Well, my name is Patton, and this is Virgil!” the boy – Patton – chirped cheerfully. Virgil, as he was now designated, gave an awkward pair of finger guns (though one was slightly less precise, seeing as that arm was currently linked with Patton's).

“A pleasure to meet you,” Logan managed to say, trying not to sound as if he were choking (they were that couple as well?!). Patton gave him an only slightly confused smile, so Logan assumed he did rather well.

There was silence for a moment, and the couples glanced at each other. Then, they all spoke at once.

“We think you two are our soulmates.”

All four of them stared at each other for a few seconds, then Virgil burst out laughing. Logan, Roman, and Patton joined him after a moment, which hopefully lowered his obvious mortification at having lost it laughing in a public setting.

When they had all calmed themselves, Logan looked at Patton and Virgil, then at his and Roman's table. Barely stopping to consider as an idea popped into his mind, he spoke.

“Would you like to have coffee with us?”

Immediately, he regretted speaking, but Patton brightened even further, if that were possible, and Virgil smiled.

“We'd actually love that,” said Virgil.

Roman stepped aside, gesturing to their table, and the other three gladly followed him.

–

They ended up staying for hours, (Logan wasn't sure how long, but certainly long enough that he was convinced the employees nearly asked them to leave, but in Roman's words, “Couldn't bear to break up such obvious love”) and before the pairs went their separate ways, exchanged phone numbers.

Logan hadn't even realized how much he had been missing. When he mentioned it to Roman, his boyfriend instantly agreed. They had felt whole by themselves, somehow even more whole as friends, and nearly perfect as partners. But now that they had met Patton and Virgil, they were complete. It felt more final this time, so hopefully they wouldn't discover a fifth soulmate in Spain or Russia or some where ridiculously far away. Logan didn't think they would, though. It felt perfect now, completely and utterly whole. They had never been close enough to see each other for who they truly were before, but now they could. And it felt like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

Logan and Roman had their first date on a rainy day, at 5:13 in the evening, at a shady cafe. Logan, Roman, Virgil, and Patton had their first date on a sunshine-filled day, at 1:37 in the afternoon, at a shady cafe.

There was really nothing to complain about.

Both were perfect.

#sanders sides gift exchange #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #ts sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts logan #ts roman #apparently i just love logan and so do y'all #virgil sanders #patton sanders #ts virgil #ts patton #aaanyways! #i did my best to fulfill all three wishes #so i do hope you enjoy! #i know i already said it but i really enjoyed writing this :) #it was fun! #also if i feel like it i might write a sequel in the future #i'm not really sure yet but if y'all like it who knows #but i think that's about all i have to say! #happy holidays y'all! ^'^ #writing #my writing #i had to edit so i apologize to anyone who saw it #before i added a cut whoops #byee!! :)

[samanthalendo]

Why I Almost Went To UT Austin; And Why I Didn’t

(As a preface: I will be speaking mainly in vague details about my personal life and the college I ended up choosing. This is for my own privacy and comfort. In addition, I am not bashing the UT system or anyone who choose to go there; I have loved ones going there very soon, and I have a lot admiration for the school and all the opportunities it can afford someone. However, these are the reasons I will not be attending and some reasons any school might miss out on students they might have otherwise garnered. As well, all photos are mine unless otherwise stated. Enjoy!)

Let me set the scene.

Choosing a college is hard. It’s freakin hard. It’s even more difficult in the middle of a global pandemic. You can’t actually go anywhere, can’t take tours or go to fairs or get a feel for the city you want to call home. I struggled a lot with really connecting to any of the schools I was interested in. Lots of apathy towards the whole process. Despite all this, I had one school I had been interested in since the end of sophomore year, and I thought that was the only place I wanted to go. 

The University of Texas at Austin appealed to me for a few different reasons. In no particular order:

It was close to family.

I have tons, and I mean tons of family in Texas. This would have put me significantly closer to them and meant I had a support system when going to college. Making sure I would have a nice warm dinner and bath to escape to on crappy days seems pretty nice during global pandemics! Notably, however, it was not close to my immediate family. 

It was in a big city. 

Looking back I can laugh at myself and the idea I had for my college experience. At the time I was much more focused on the social and Instagramable side of the school I chose. Any time my parents suggested a school, the first thing I did was look for photos of it. If it didn’t have the feel I was looking for (young, new, hip, growing) I seldom looked further. 

Austin was exactly what I was looking for. A city with a 32.4% growth rate in the last decade (1), it screamed new and exciting. I wanted to be apart of that vibe during college, especially when I thought my boyfriend and I would be going to the same place (we are still happily together and just going to different schools, btw). Anything less didn’t seem worth it or fun enough. 

It’s a high ranking journalism school. 

Rankings are subjective so it absolutely depends on where you look, but UT Austin consistently ranks within the top ten journalism schools in the nation, which is incredible. I’ve wanted to study journalism since about sophomore year and I was so excited that on top of the aforementioned attributes, this would be a reputable place to study and get a degree from. Truth be told, I didn’t do nearly any research into the actual programs, opportunities, or benefits UTA offered, #foreshadowing.

UTA was the first school I applied to, and as such it established my expectations for how applying to a big name school would work. Let me just say it, the application process sucked. I ended up writing two full-length essays, only one of which I used and extensively edited, and at least five different short answer paragraphs. I believe I also had to submit a resume when I applied for the Journalism Honors program, though that was additional. It was intense, and quite honestly didn’t seem worth it. Up until this point I was pretty much riding the wave of, “Yeah, UT Austin, that’s a school people will respond positively to when they ask where I’m going.” As aforementioned, I hadn’t done any in-depth research into what programs UT had to offer me, but from what little looking I had done, nothing was jumping out at me. With nothing spectacular being shown to me on a silver platter, enticing me to #golonghorns, the arduous application process felt taxing and stressful. 

(A little side note on writing college essays: do not force yourself to write about something that doesn’t feel genuine to you. I don’t care if you think you have something that they’re bound to notice or admire; if you’re not passionate about it, you won’t get anywhere. As mentioned, I wrote two different essays when applying to UT. In my first essay, I wrote about leadership experiences in high school and how they shaped me. Important? Yes. Influential for me? Absolutely. But nothing I’m ready to rave about to anyone who walks through the door. That essay felt fake and artificial. I knew I didn’t like it or want it to represent me. So, I sat down and started writing about a situation that happened over the summer at my high school, one that really ground my gears. I couldn’t stop talking about how upset I was. I wrote all about the experience and how it made me want to be a better journalist and to always help to portray the truth. If anyone would like to know more about that story, let me know. The point is, I was passionate about the topic and it made it much easier to write believably. I didn’t just need this piece to represent me, I wanted it to represent me. I wanted the application readers to understand my frustration and feel all the emotions I felt in those moments. Pick something you feel that way about.)

I’m not going to BS and say that the application process will be fun if the school you’re applying to is the right one for you. All I’m saying is it should feel worth it, like all this hard work and effort is really going to culminate into your dream school. I definitely didn’t feel that with UTA, which was one of my first red flags. I felt very disconnected from the school, like I was just another fish in the pond of out of state applicants, hoping they’d like my bright colors over the next. 

A little background: I am, for the purposes of Texas schools, an out-of-state applicant. I don’t have residency in TX and I didn’t go to a public high school in TX, and this contributes heavily to UTA admissions. I’ll link a great article going further in-depth on the admissions numbers and percentages, but due to the advantages granted to TX resident applicants, approximately only 9% of UTA students are out of state (2). That number is so low because TX students in the top 6% of their graduating class, no matter their test scores, are automatically accepted. This means that on top of great grades, out-of-state applicants for UTA have ACT scores that are between 3-5 points higher and SAT scores that are about 150 points higher than their average TX counterpart. 

If you aren’t stressed out just reading that, teach me your ways because I was sure was.

This was sort of where the perceived animosity started between myself and UTA. I constantly checked my email and mailbox, hoping to get a letter or promotional email or something to indicate they were interested in me as a student. Seldom did they ever come. I got hundreds of emails from other schools and received nearly as much snail mail, but hardly ever from UT, even after I asked to receive their newsletters and an informational packet (which never came, BTW). 

I quickly came to realize that all of this was likely due to the fact that I was so far away, out of the UT sphere of control or influence. Most of the emails I received were from schools in my neighboring states or in my state, closer with a higher likelihood of recruiting me. A school in TX, where I did not study or hold residency, would not seek me out.

Here’s my issue. They didn’t have to seek me out. That’s fine, whatever, makes sense. But I sought them out. I signed up for everything. I filled out their long application, sent it in early. I tried to tour the school in the throws of COVID, having to settle for a self-paced walk about an empty campus to satisfy my need to know more about this school, to learn more about what it could offer me. None of my efforts proved fruitful, and it didn’t feel like the school really wanted me there. I wondered whether this was really where I wanted to be. 

By mid-November, while I wouldn’t have called myself discouraged, I would definitely have identified with the word antsy. When I sent in my application in September, they notified me that I would get my answer sometime in January or February. I can’t even explain how far away that felt. Especially being out of state, I wanted to know their decision as quickly as possible. The wait felt like an eternity.

My dad has always stressed the importance of not putting all your eggs in one basket. While I had shot my shot with UT and was waiting for the scoreboard to change, he was still exploring other options I had in the world of journalism schools. Without me knowing or really agreeing, he scheduled a tour with a school about two hours away from where we lived. It would be on a Saturday, just the two of us, and we’d make a day trip out of it. Honestly, I was more excited for the trip than the school itself. It had always been one I had turned my nose up at; to be fair, I did that with almost any school that wasn’t UT. 

We were about five minutes late to the opening presentation at the school. Quickly shuffling into the only seats we saw, some in the very front row of the socially distanced conference hall, we settled in for a lot of new information  coming our way. Though he had planned it, my dad didn’t know that much about the school either. We were both skeptical, a bit frazzled, and tired from having woken up around five o’clock that morning.

But with every slide, every question, every time the presenter opened her mouth, we were drawn further in.

It wasn’t just the feel of the school, or the location, or the looks. The facts didn’t lie. I won’t share too many so as to keep at least some privacy, but to say this school was my diamond in the rough wouldn’t be too much of an overstatement. Despite that, throughout the day and our two guided tours, I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, keeping me from getting too excited about this new school. I couldn’t help but think about UT and all of the emotional commitment I had already made to it. How excited my family was that I was hoping to go there, how happy my grandmother was that I would be closer to her. I thought of the teachers I had complained to about the long essays, the people who had edited those essays for me. I thought about the burnt orange hoodie sitting in my closet, towards the front due to how often I wore it. 

The new school won over both my heart and my head. While I really felt at home there, I also would have to have been dead to overlook all of the opportunities it could afford me. I was close to my immediate family and the town I had gone to high school in. I could come home often, visit family and friends more frequently than if I moved states away. Everything seemed right.

In between our tours, due to the nagging I was feeling, I tried to schedule a tour with UTA, to at least give it a fighting chance. I figured, had I not had an in-person tour of this new school, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Maybe a real tour would make me fall in love with UT again. However, when I tried to schedule one, all of the tours for the rest of the semester were completely booked, and the calendar wasn’t yet available for the spring semester. I immediately called to find out more, only to be told that they weren’t sure the state of in-person tours upon return to campus after holidays due to COVID. Looking back, I know it was a sign. UT had, for all intents and purposes, closed its doors on me. It was time I accepted the willing arms of the school I gazed upon with wonder, truly in limbo as to what might happen next. 

By the end of December, I was admitted and had committed to the new school. I wouldn’t find out about UT for another month, but honestly, I didn’t really need to. This new school had everything I could ever want, and UT had a fair amount of drawbacks. I didn’t and still don’t feel any remorse for committing without having known UT’s decision on me. 

I received an email January 29th, over a month after having committed to the new school, that I needed to check my UT MyStatus page. I never really worried about getting in due to my test scores and grades, but I felt a level of anger towards the school that I thought I had gotten over, and finding out I had gotten in after all would bring up new emotions. I checked the page, and sure enough I had been admitted to the University of Texas at Austin’s class of 2025. I wasn’t elated or jumping up and down with joy or breaking down happy crying in my parent’s arms. I was pretty stoic, thinking about all that could have been had I felt any more like UT really wanted me. 

(3)

All things happen for a reason. Because I didn’t feel much reciprocation in my love for UT, I instead found the school of my dreams, one that I know I’ll be much happier at. I wouldn’t change any of my decisions, except maybe stressing over the essays as much as I did. 

My final thoughts would have to be this: I don’t blame the UT system for not focusing as much on its out-of-state applicants. I mean, I do, but I understand that it’s often simply not in their best interest. I do think that they should have reached out, sent more newsletters, have actually sent me the information packet I requested, anything to make me feel more connected with this place I was dying to call home. While I know they aren’t very focused on bringing in students from other states, I think they should be, especially for those that are going the extra mile to reach out to them. 

The right school will have a lot of different things for every different person. For me, that meant being close to my immediate family, knowing I would have all of the opportunities I wanted, being financially secure, and feeling like the school wanted me, not just the other way around. UT didn’t provide me all of that. Finding the school that will is the most important thing. Your needs and wants may be different, but don’t toss all of your eggs in one basket. Don’t be afraid to change your mind and always keep looking for something better. For all you know, it may be out there.

(Thank you so much for reading! Links are below. This is just meant to be an opinion piece and is the first thing I’ve written for myself in a very long time. I hope you learned something and that this may be helpful on your college journey! Au revoir!)

1. https://www.austinchamber.com/economic-development/austin-profile/population/overview

2. https://magoosh.com/hs/college-admissions/ut-austin-admissions-the-sat-act-scores-and-gpa-you-need-to-get-in/ 

3. https://news.utexas.edu/2020/09/22/four-year-graduation-rate-tops-70-as-ut-austin-admits-one-of-its-largest-first-year-classes/ 

#ut austin #university of texas #texas #college #journalism #photography #uta #university of texas at austin #university #admissions #ut2025 #2025 #bell tower #writing #opinion #samanthalendo

[bobbyshaddoe80]

Liberated Audio Reviews

Blake's 7 - The Liberator Chronicles Vol. 2

RELEASED AUGUST 2012

Recorded on: 18 October and 25 November 2011, and 15 March 2012

Recorded at: Moat Studios

Review By Robert L. Torres

The Magnificent Four by Simon Guerrier

'A mission to steal data from the planet Mogul goes badly wrong when Cally and Avon are outflanked and outgunned. And then they are teleported to safety – to an alien spaceship stolen from The System, which is crewed by Gilden Trent and his small team of rebels.

For Avon it’s the opportunity to start over again without Blake.

But can Trent be trusted?'

Chronological Placement:

Set during Series B between the episodes Countdown and Voice From the Past.

Magnificent. Defined in the dictionary as 'impressive, deserving of admiration, especially due to an unusual quality involving size'.

The word is often used when describing something vast in size and scope, but magnificence can also be attributed to the quality of something that involves a small group. A prime example would be the title characters of the classic Western The Magnificent Seven. Even the accomplishments made by the John Wick character could be described as magnificent despite them being done by one man.

Magnificent is an apt word to describe the impressive storytelling quality that Guerrier has pulled off with this Cally focused story.

Cally, as played by the exquisite Jan Chappell, was always one of my favorites from the original cast. She was someone that wasn't a hardened cynic like Avon (who provides much needed support for Cally in this story), nor was she cowardly like Vila. She was someone that genuinely believed in doing the right thing and saw fighting against the oppressive tyranny of the Federation to be a very serious responsibility.

I was also always fascinated by her stance as someone that, for all intents and purposes, was the alien of the group (due to her coming from a race of telepaths). I have my own thoughts and theories about the Auronar, but that can wait for another day. Despite having powers of the mind, I always felt that Cally was very much the heart of the team.

I love that this story has Cally and Avon meeting up with a group like Blake's, on a ship like the Liberator, only to learn that they are little more than highly skilled pirates.

I love that the events of the Series B episode 'Redemption' are brought up and how the crew of the Libertine are a result of the aftermath of the events from that story.

I love how the story showcases in the crew of the Libertine a distorted reflection (and perhaps a retroactive premonition) of what would happen to the crew of the Liberator should they lose their way by abandoning their morals and scruples and just give in to blind self interest... Which for the most part is exactly what started to happen during Series C and ultimately came to fruition in Series D.

A minor nitpick, but I always thought the planet Cally came from was called Auron and her people were called the Auronar. And yet in this story and others, they refer to her as being an Auron. Is it a case where one singular person is an Auron but the collective term for the species as a whole is Auronar? It is a minor thing, I know, but still something that stuck out.

Something else that is a bit of a minor flaw is that at one point in the story the voiceover narration switches from Cally to Avon. There is a specific reason why this happens in the narrative, but it still comes about rather unexpectedly.

Given the stories in these chronicles are events being recounted AFTER the fact, there is the inevitable problem of how to create tension and intrigue with life threatening peril for the characters when most fans know the show backwards and are fully aware of what the inevitable fates for many of the characters are.

Luckily for Guerrier and many other writers, they do create moments that make you wonder how such and such will be able to survive whatever life threatening peril is thrown at them, and manage to cleverly pay off how they survive without falling into 'Oh Come The Fuck On' Territory.

8 out of 10 Plasma Bolts

Anyway, this story is very well done and is the first of many plots that involve coming across potential allies for the Resistance movement, only to learn the would be allies are often a lot worse than their enemies in the Federation. Definitely give it a listen.

False Positive by Eddie Robson

'Dr. Lian has a mysterious new patient – a man who was found shot in the leg near Engel City, a man who is delirious and talking about the most extraordinary acts of rebellion.

She prescribes drugs and the use of the alleviator – a device that will dig deep into his memories – to unlock the truth about Carlin Guzan.

But the truth that she exposes is far more shocking than she bargained for...'

Chronological Placement:

Set during Series B after LC Vol. 10's Retribution, between the episodes Horizon and Pressure Point.

This story is definitely a step up in quality from volume 1's 'Counterfeit' and is an excellent Blake-centric story. The framing device for the recollection of the events is actually quite clever as it ties in with the adventure itself in a very naturalistic manner.

The dialogue scenes between Blake and Dr. Liam are excellent. Kudos to Beth Chalmers for giving the character of Dr. Liam the right balance of professional intrigue and personal curiosity as she learns more and more about her 'patient'. But this story belongs to the late Gareth Thomas through and through and it is great to hear him be afforded better material than during his first go round back in 'Counterfeit'.

I always rather liked Blake from the start, and a large part of that is down to the performance of the late Gareth Thomas. The character of Roj Blake was a passionate idealist fighting for a noble cause, someone who could be diplomatic but understood the need for action rather than simple civil disobedience. As someone that broke free from an oppressive government, he immediately gains our sympathies... even if his passions occasionally bordered on overzealous fanaticism. This is largely due to what the Federation did to him personally by trying to rewrite his mind, killing his family and even destroying his public image by falsifying accusations of paedophilia.

Since the Federation enact the same tactics on countless others without any hesitation, morals or scruples, it is no wonder why Blake is so overwhelmingly passionate about wiping out the corruptive and cancerous tumor that is the Federation. Not only to avenge family, but to ensure that people are given the freedom to choose for themselves and not simply be coerced into following the rules through propaganda, torture, drugs or mind control.

Speaking of drugs and mind control, that goes to the heart of the plot: Blake going undercover at a Federation research facility that is conducting a clinical drug trial for the development of a new pacifying sedative, which the Federation hopes to employ in order to ensure total compliance and obedience to Federation doctrine.

Ironically enough, that is exactly what would come to pass towards the tail end of Series D... But we already know that, don't we?

7 out of 10 Plasma Bolts

All things considered, it is a pretty good story. This story, like a few others in the Liberator Chronicles range, could work as a two-hander stage play with a couple of tweaks. It also could easily have worked on TV or even as a full cast audio. Give it a listen.

Wolf by Nigel Fairs

“I heard his death cry. I felt it. And there was a word. ‘Wolf’. You, Servalan. You were the “Wolf”. You killed him. I want to know why.”

'Some time ago, Blake and his crew were helped by a revered Auron scientist named Gustav Nyrron. He stayed aboard the Liberator for a time and then disappeared.

Cally wants to know what happened to Nyrron, and only Servalan knows the answers.'

Chronological Placement:

Set during Series B between the episodes Pressure Point and Trial.

This is a very intriguing Servalan focused story, featuring Cally and a return appearance by Gustav Nyrron from Volume 1's 'Solitary'.

They say that a protagonist is only as good as the antagonist created to provide drama/conflict. This is especially true when the character of Supreme Commander Servalan (along with the equally excellent Space Commander Travis) was introduced as the Liberator crew's primary antagonist in the Series A episode 'Seek-Locate-Destroy'.

A large part of why the Servalan character has left such a lasting impression on the minds of fans had to do with the casting of the late Jacqueline Pearce, and the way she played the role. Her grace, charm, beauty and seductive allure went hand in hand with a ruthless ambitious edge along with a keen strategic mind.

In many ways, Servalan, as played by Jacqueline Pearce, reminded me of Alexis Colby as played by Joan Collins. Although Servalan was a bit more reserved than Alexis.

As such, it makes perfect sense that the Liberator Chronicles would provide ample opportunities to explore the villains as well as the heroes. This story does well to explore Servalan's character along with her thoughts, beliefs and how she carries herself as she recounts events. The recollection is pretty interesting cuz it comes about in multiple ways.

We learn a little bit about Servalan's childhood in reference to a game she used to play with others. Its interesting how this story, along with the upcoming 'Kerr', 'President' and 'Three', provides more insight into the character than the show ever did. The aforementioned upcoming stories do provide some great insight into why Servalan is the way she is... But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

I love the scenes between Servalan and Cally, as I do not recall the two of them having much screentime during the series proper... If ever. But I could be wrong.

This story has some great twists and turns as it deals with exploring how Servalan used Nyrron as her personal plaything in her efforts to lure the Liberator into her clutches.

Although Nyrron will be featured again in the story 'Brother' off of Volume 11 (which I will talk about eventually), I think this is the story that features him the best. We learn the most about him as a character, and much kudos to Anthony Howell for bringing much pathos and nuance to the Auron scientist.

The story also lends itself quite well to philosophical debates regarding how each side views the other. Naturally, Blake's crew view Servalan and the Federation as an evil and oppressive tyranny, while Servalan and those within the Administration view Blake and his ilk as little more than terrorists wanting to bring down the only force for law and order in the galaxy.

It is that clash of ideals and personal morals that will be explored to great effect in future volumes as well as in the full cast audios.

9 out of 10 Plasma Bolts

Final score for Liberator Chronicles Vol. 2 in its entirety is 8 out of 10 Plasma Bolts. It is a profound step up in quality compared to Volume 1, and it demonstrates that things can only go up from here in terms of character exploration and engaging plots.

Special credit to Craig Brawley of the Big Finish Listeners Facebook Group for his tireless efforts in mapping out the chronology of the audios and determining his they fit in with the established TV continuity.

#blake's 7 #reviews #big finish productions #audiobooks #audio dramas

[lwjstiletto]

wangxian au where lwj is a popular hand model and wwx is an independent jewellery maker [Part 1]

[Twitter thread version]

wwx is a go-getter kind of guy. he likes pretty things and pretty people. so his job is a win-win in that he makes pretty things for pretty people— well mostly

lately all his brain has churned out is designs that only the very nice old ladies in his neighbourhood indulgently buy from him

he’s grateful for it but nevertheless it’s been disheartening looking for the elusive muse for his next project

jiang cheng only sighs whenever he mentions this and rants about how if wwx just LISTENED to him and actually put effort into commercialising his bestsellers instead of hyperfocusing on one body part/gem/technique and hopping from one product to the next; and in general just making his business a chaotic mess where clients couldn’t guess what he would put out next, that he would have a better shot

but ofc wwx sighs even more at this and just goes ‘but jiang cheng~’

what kind of argument even is that? but jc lets it go bc wwx supplies him with endless half-finished projects that are complicated-looking enough to give his students a good challenge when drawing still life

so anyways, wwx is still making old lady jewellery and being generally pitiful when he stumbles across an intriguing article on twitter

—•—

lwj on the other hand has been fastening and unfastening his cufflinks for an hour straight. that’s pretty much status quo for hand models who have to spend hours on end either doing repetitive gestures or holding completely still

lwj doesn’t mind though, he has always had steady hands and dextrous fingers, practically an advertiser’s ‘wet dream’ as his agent, nhs, puts it

said agent pulls him aside when it’s finally time for his break. nhs looks harried, which isn’t out of the ordinary, but he’s also not meeting lwj’s eyes which sets of alarm bells in his head

“okay before i tell you,” nhs starts without prompting, “promise not to fire me.”

lwj doesn’t narrow his eyes, but the twitch of his eyebrow is close enough, “i will be fair.”

“that’s not a-“ nhs sighs, “good enough i guess. do you remember that photoshoot you did with da-ge a few months back?”

lwj nods. how could he forget? it had been... an experience for sure. it was a photoshoot for a book cover for a popular teen novel

and while lwj didn’t meet fellow hand models often, he had come across other ‘parts models’ as they were called

spending the better part of two days caressing nmj’s abs was... by far not the most unpleasant job he’d had as a hand model

nhs holds out a copy of the novel for him to see. the cover they used is from the second half of the photoshoot where they took a few wider shots

lwj sees nothing wrong with it. it’s a standard cover, if a bit lewd due to all the... ab touching. in fact the entire cover is just nmj’s abs and wide shoulders

lwj doesn’t think his hands serve any other purpose than obstructing the view in the poorest attempt to keep it pg. still he fails to see the problem

nhs wrings his hands together, “there was a blog post about it. do you know anyone named su she?”

lwj thinks for a moment, then vaguely recalls the name with a sinking realisation

—•—

wwx is still thinking about the article when jin zixuan comes to drop jin ling off at his apartment. unprompted, wwx asks him, “do you think i could sell feet pics?”

he can see jzx’s soul leave his body as he drops jin ling’s overnight bag on the pavement. wwx’s favourite new hobby is dropping these bombs on jzx and watching him dissociate from reality as he tries to answer wwx’s insane questions with logic

being a father has changed him. a few years ago he would have just slammed the nearest door in wwx’s face

“why... do you want to sell feet pics? is your business not going well?” jzx asks, and actually looks concerned. well, now wwx feels bad

“my business is just fine.” wwx says grumpily

“really? jiang cheng and yanli seem to think otherwise.”

“you eavesdropped on them didn’t you?”

jzx is entirely unashamed, “i’m just concerned.”

“again, my business is fine!”

“you know if you ever needed money-“

wwx turns jzx around and pushes him towards his car, “don’t you have things to do? get jin ling out of the car seat, it’s getting late.”

since the peacock has acquired immunity to his teasing by straight up being ~nice~ to him, it’s only fair that wwx sends jin ling back with so many new toys that they will take up at least a whole corner in his unnecessarily gigantic home

—•—

lwj meets his brother for iced tea at a cafe near huaisang’s office. lwj does not like iced tea but has deliberately kept this from his brother because lxc loves it and has made it his personal mission to try every iced tea flavour he can get his hands on

it is also the easiest way to lure his brother out of his busy schedule. lwj knows lxc would take time to meet him anyway, but he wants lxc to indulge in something he likes once in a while

“wangji, you seem restless.” lxc says, concerned

lwj takes a tentative sip of his black currant iced tea. it’s abhorrent

“do you remember su she?” lwj asks

lxc, “the one from your cello class?”

lwj nods

“the one who broke his string and his bow in the same day?” lxc asks, almost looking amused

lwj winces, “yes.”

“did he ever come back to the class after that?” lxc asks

lwj shakes his head, then taps the glass with a gloved finger

“has he been bothering you again?” lxc asks seriously, “if he has-“

“it’s-“ lwj sighs, “complicated.”

before lxc can make assumptions, lwj unlocks his phone and shows it to lxc

lxc reads silently for a minute or two, then his eyes widen. “he posted this on the novel’s discussion forum?”

lwj nods

“how did he even-“ lxc says, then pauses in thought, “is it because of the cello class?”

“mn, perhaps.” lwj says, “he saw the book cover i did with huaisang’s brother. he is a fan of the novel.”

“so he went and researched the models who were on the cover?” lxc frowns, “how did he even find that?”

“my name is public information.” lwj says, “it would certainly be hard to find, but it is available nonetheless.”

“are you going to be okay?” lxc asks.

“i am worried it will impact your reputation. my job is not... conventional.” lwj doesn’t meet his brother’s gaze

“wangji, that is the least of my concerns. you did not want to do conventional modelling by choice.” lxc says

he isn’t wrong, lwj hadn’t wanted to have his face photographed, it had never appealed to him. no matter how many compliments he received on his looks

his popularity started and ended within the advertising circle and nhs never offered him jobs he didn’t want. putting a face to his popular hand modelling career was not an ideal situation

especially since it had reached a lot of the novel’s fans who’d begun discussing him on other social media platforms

“i will handle this.” lxc says, “this is not right. you especially drew up contracts with advertisers to avoid this situation.”

“brother-“ lwj starts

“he should not have posted pictures of you.” lxc isn’t even drinking his iced tea, lwj notes

“it is already out. there is not much we can do.” lwj says reasonably

lxc doesn’t quite seethe but he doesn’t touch his iced coffee again

—•—

wwx finally admits to himself that he may be experiencing a slump. he hasn’t touched his tools in two months and his work bench has acquired a thick layer of dust on which jin ling drew a frowny face with his fingers then immediately tried to lick them

and what does one do when lacking motivation? harrass his brother in his cushy office at the university of course

to his credit, jc lets him prace around and poke at his things for a solid ten seconds before snapping at him. which means he and jyl must actually be worried about him

“wei wuxian” jc says through clenched teeth when wwx has pushed the paperweight on his desk to the very edge, trying to see how far jc would let him take it

ah, so not worried enough to break into his house at night, wwx notes

“so, do you think i could sell foot pics?” wwx uses his favourite new icebreaker

jc puts his head in his hands like wwx put the worlds’ weight on his shoulders. if he listens closely, he’s sure he can hear a repetition of ‘why why why why’ in jc’s head

“why...” jc forces himself to say

wwx shurgs with a grin, “i read an article about it. apparently a lot of people are into feet.”

“into... feet...” jc says

“yeah like they get off-“

jc holds up a hand to stop him, “i get it. did you come all the way across the city to ask me this?”

“yes and no.” wwx says, “i wanted to ask if you could draw me some.”

“some... feet...?” jc is going to kick him out soon, wwx can feel it

wwx places his chin in both his hands and tries to look pitiful, “isn’t it better than me buying foot pics? think of how that would reflect on you if anyone found out.”

jc feels a headache coming on, “please tell me you’re using them as reference to design anklets or something.”

wwx laughs, “of course! what did you think?”

jc glares at him, “i will ban you from campus.”

wwx bothers him a bit more and then gets thrown out more gently than he has come to expect from jc, still not sure if jc will actually fulfill his request

and maybe it’s because his luck has been down for too long that life took pity and decided to throw something good at him, he turns the corner to see one of the most beautiful men he has laid his eyes on

his attention is focused on the folder in his hands, and it’s late enough that there are no students milling the corridors. this is probably why the aforementioned beautiful, stunning, abolutely breathtaki- man manages to walk straight into wwx

several things happen at once. wwx sees it coming unlike the other person, so he reaches out to steady him. turns out there isn’t much need of that because the man gets his bearings back alarmingly fast for someone caught by surprise

the folder in his hands does not have similar balance though, and falls to the floor, splattering it’s contents halfway across the hallway

the man looks... well neutral, but the speed at which he drops to his knees lets wwx know that it’s not something he wants wwx to see

which, of course has the opposite effect. when wwx looks down to see the photographs that have not yet been put back into the folder- he is left speechless for once

the immediate and most obvious explanation is that this guy is an art student who is using these pictures as reference... but of course wwx’s first thought is Oh mY gOd this guy has a hand fetish because his talk with jc is still fresh in his head

once that thought is in his head, wwx notices a number of things in quick sequence

this dude looks uncharacteristically nervous for an innocent art student, and he’s wearing GLOVES like a CRIMINAL who’s STEALING pictures of those pretty hands from an art class for his own pleasure

art students don’t wear gloves, especially not in the middle of summer! and no one can possibly require that many pictures for just one body part

satisfied with his reasonable conclusion, wwx opens his mouth to accuse the man only to realise that he is upright once again with all his stolen pictures securely in his folder

“are you stealing those?” wwx asks straightforwardly

the man actually does seem to be caught off-guard for longer than two seconds this time

then he proceeds to walk past wwx

“hey wait!” wwx blocks his path again, “i get it, you know? we all have needs and i’m totally not judging you for it. but there are sites for this stuff.”

the man finally looks at him, and wow he’s even more attractive than wwx first thought and his eyes are so pretty and- he walks past wwx again

wwx, yet again, catches up to him and decides that walking beside him is more effective. “good quality photography like that is usually quite expensive you know?”

the man continues to ignore him so wwx grabs the folder in his hands and gives it a good yank

“what are you doing?” the man finally speaks. even his voice is nice. wwx is sure people would send him hand pics for free if he asked

“returning this to the rightful owner.” wwx holds the folder out of his reach

the man takes a deep breath, then pulls at one of his satin gloves- SATIN, how did wwx not notice that- and holds his beautiful hand up to wwx’s face

wwx’s brain immediately short circuits as he thinks ‘maybe ~I~ am the one with a hand fetish’ because that’s... one pretty hand

one... familiar hand. the same even tone, smooth skin and long, elegant fingers with perfectly manicured nails...

while he stands there, gaping like a fish, the man snatches the folder out of his hand and starts walking away with quicker strides

by the time wwx’s brain reboots and the realisation finally sinks in- he has finally found the muse he has been looking for- the man is already gone

—•—

lwj admits that he is... slightly stressed out, and is definitely showing enough signs of it that nhs has caught on

“you went to visit wen qing yesterday.” it’s not a question so lwj doesn’t answer. “did you perhaps run into an old acquaintance?”

lwj shakes his head, “it is not what you think.”

this sparks curiosity in nhs which is a toss up between better and worse than the implication that lwj’s stress stems from accidentally meeting su she at the university

“did you run into a fan?” nhs asks and it’s actually a reasonable concern since lwj wants to avoid even being /known/ at all costs

lwj shakes his head. he trusts nhs which isn’t as surprising now as it had been to him years ago when he had agreed to give nhs free reign over the work he chose for lwj

“somebody from the university knows of my identity.” lwj says finally.

nhs seems to think it over, “it was inevitable. even after taking down the blog post, people are still curious about you.”

lwj wants to tell him that it’s actually his fault but he stays silent as nhs continues his train of thought.

“you’re exciting because people have seen you without actually seeing you. you’ve worked with big brands and celebrities and it normally wouldn’t spark interest-

- but unfortunately for you, you are attractive. it will die down after a while, we just have to ride it out for now.” nhs concludes.

lwj nods, feeling reassured. nhs is usually right about these things, which is why lwj regards him so highly

he has a video shoot for some fancy kitchen installation company after that, and he tries not to think about the man who accused him of stealing his own pictures while he very slowly chops a mango on the surely unsanitary granite counter

he’s working with a photographer he knows well, one of the best in his line of work. song lan has a good eye for what would look enticing in an advert and doesn’t make him do weird, suggestive things like kneading dough in slow motion. lwj suppresses a shudder at the thought

after cutting enough magoes to feed ten people, the shoot finally wraps up and one of the PAs on the set holds out a basin for him to wash his hands in

the warm water is soothing to his aching fingers and he lets his hands soak but not for longer than a few seconds to prevent his skin from pruning. he then rubs the special concoction that is his version of the best moisturiser and puts his hands in soft cotton gloves

song lan comes to greet him after and expresses his sympathies about his pictures making rounds on the internet

lwj’s eyes widen ever so slightly, “you know of it?”

“my boyfriend is a fan.” he says with a fond shake of his head, “otherwise i’d have no idea.”

luckily before lwj can start to panic, nhs trots up to them and the conversation ends there as he’s dragged to his next shoot

—•—

“for the last time, i don’t know your ‘guy with pretty hands’.” jc says, exasperated. “what’s with you and body parts nowadays? if it’s a kink thing.. please rethink your life.”

wwx sighs. he knew going to jc was useless, but at least it confirmed his suspicion that the guy isn’t an art student

however, that makes the task of finding him and then begging him to model wwx’s jewellery harder. because yes, wwx has spent the last five days cooped up in his workshop making complex hand chains

now if he only had more than a memory to draw inspiration from...

it’s frustrating. wwx should have at least asked for his name and number. how can he be this stupid?

“very easily.” is jc’s reply to this

“jiang chengggg.” wwx whines, “i have to find him or my creativity will die a horrible death.”

jc looks like he is ageing before his eyes. “if i ask around the staff will you promise to only come to my office during emergencies? you’re freaking my students out.”

“yes!” wwx agrees enthusiastically, then frowns. “freaking them out? i’m so nice to everyone!”

“you tried to get at least five of my students to draw your pretty boy from description.” jc deadpans, “they think he’s a criminal.”

“a criminal after my heart, aha!” wwx says with finger guns.. and gets thrown out by jc for his efforts. it’s less gentle this time

a few days later, jc calls him, “apparently ‘his identity needs to be protected’. is he actually a criminal?”

“he was wearing gloves...” wwx mutters, “i’m kidding! not about the gloves, but i don’t think he’s a criminal.”

jc makes a doubtful noise on the other end. “well, whatever. so yeah, anyway, i can’t get wen qing to tell me anything. you can come bully her yourself if you dare to.”

“why does it have to be wen qing?” wwx groans, “she’ll roast me on low flame before she tells me anything. why couldn’t it be wen ning— wait. wen ning probably knows him too. jiang cheng i’m a genius!”

jc hangs up on him but it doesn’t dampen his spirits at all. he’s so close to finding him.

—•—

shoots where he has to hold objects for an extended period of time are already unkind to his muscles, but holding objects with /postures/ is even worse. his fingers are so stiff after his seven hour shoot with swarovski that when one of the assistants on set hands him a cup of warm tea, it slips right through his grip and shatters on the ground unceremoniously

everyone freezes, and then start to buzz around him, asking if he is feeling unwell or if he needs to sit down. because lwj never drops /anything/. it’s in his job description NOT to drop anything

god, lwj hates jewellery shoots the most

nhs hears about this, ofc. lwj suspects he can be at multiple places at a time. so lwj is neatly packed into a SUV and sent away to get a relaxing massage and manicure

lwj would usually put up a fight but his muscles have been aching for days and nhs has theatened to text his brother at least three times this week. he doesn’t want to risk a fourth

wen ning, the meek but kind masseuse greets him with a bow, “lan er-gongzi, are you well?”

lwj nods, and is about to ask about wn as well when he hears the door of the masseuse parlour bang open behind him

“you!” comes a shout and lwj turns around, alarmed

the man who accused him of stealing his own pictures is standing there, pointing a finger at him

“if i was unclear the last time, i did not steal those photographs.” lwj says

the man seems stunned for two seconds, then frowns. “steal.. i know that you didn’t steal them.”

lwj nods, then starts to walk further into the parlour- except for the hand that grips and brings him to a stop. lwj would usually rip his hand away, but the slight pressure sends pain shooting up his arm

and lwj definitely didn’t realise how stiff his muscles were until then. he must have made a noise, a mixture between surprise and a wince, because the man lets go immediately

“are you okay?” he asks, looking alarmed

lwj closes his eyes to compose himself

“wei-gongzi, what are you doing here?” lwj hears wen ning ask

“i came to find him.” the man replies

lwj’s eyes open in shock. find him? does he know of lwj’s identity? is he a fan of the novel? this has gotten way bigger than either lwj or nhs predicted if people are actively seeking him out

“i think you have misunderstood.” lwj says, projecting a calm exterior even though he’s feeling a little cornered. cornered.. by a single person... what has his life come to?

but today it’s one person, next... he doesn’t even want to think about it. he has never wanted to be in the public light and does not want the /crowd/ and god forbid- the /noise/ that comes with it

he had gotten comfortable in the happy equilibrium of popularity and anonymity- the only thing which had lured him into accepting this job and has kept him in it thus far

... and it seems to be crumbling right before his eyes

“what? no i haven’t. i wouldn’t forget your face.” the man says, “hey stop running away-“

but lwj is already walking past him to exit the massage parlour. he needs to call someone. nhs most probably. or a cab.

the other man is speedy though, and blocks him right at the door, extending his arms and legs to cover the width of the opening as if lwj was thinking of sneaking around him. (he was, but that’s not the point)

“okay maybe i’ve come across as creepier than expected.” the man says, “but i swear i just want your hands!”

[wen ning shakes his head furiously in the background]

the panic lwj feels must be enough to be showing on his usually blank face, because the man backtracks

“i mean- no- that came off as even creepier oh my god. i’m not a serial killer, i promise.”

[wen ning makes a big X over his head with his arms]

the man takes a deep breath and actually seems to think before speaking this time, “hi, my name is wei ying. i’m a jeweller by profession. what’s your name?”

“move aside.” lwj says.

“do you promise not to run and actually hear me out? because it was so hard to track you down, god, it took me a week!”

[wn texting nhs: pls come and save lwj i think he’s about to faint]

“a week...” lwj says, “you tracked me down for a week?”

“no! i mean yes but not in a stalker way!” wwx seems to be having a mini meltdown, “you know just nice good ol’ asking around about the cute guy i saw at the uni... not... stalking...”

luckily lwj’s phone begins to ring, cutting wwx off. [wen ning is very thankful for this. he doesn’t think having the police here would be good for business]

“brother.” lwj says, still a little strung up

“wangji, i’m almost there.”

“what?”

“huaisang told me you were ill,” lxc says, “and i was in the area so i told him i’d take you to the doctor.”

lwj turns to give wen ning a scathing look. “he exaggerated. i’m fine. you don’t have to come here.”

lwj doesn’t think his brother will take the fact that he has acquired a stalker well

“i’m outside.” lxc says

lwj resists the urge to sigh. he’s going to strangle everyone in this room, then himself

“i’ll be there in a minute then.” lwj says.

“i’m making my way to the parlour.” lxc says, disregarding him completely

“brother i can walk.” lwj says calmly. murder is on his mind.

lxc hangs up on him. lwj actually sighs this time.

“if you don’t want my brother to report you, you need to move aside.” lwj says to wwx.

wwx opens his mouth as if he wants to continue to dig himself into a hole, but then moves aside degectedly

then he removes a business card from his wallet and puts it in lwj’s shirt pocket.

“you can look me up, i’m not lying. i really am a jeweller and i’d like to work with you.” he says

before lwj can protest, lxc is already at the entrance, carrying what looks like half the pharmacy in a paperbag

“wangji.” he greets, and then pauses to nod politely at the other men, “let’s go.”

lwj follows him silently

—•—

wen ning sighs and flips the sign on the door to ‘closed’ resigning to the fact that wwx will remain a permanent fixture on his floor for a while

“so you thought he was a creepy thief and now he thinks you’re a creepy stalker?” wn asks.

wwx, who has told him all of this between groans, groans again.

“do you... want a free massage?” wn offers

“yes.”

lwj fights the urge to touch his shirt pocket while in the car with lxc.

“you need to go to the hospital wangji, you don’t look well.” lxc insists

“i will eat every medicine in that bag if you drop me off at huaisang’s office.” lwj replies

lxc looks alarmed, “you’ll definitely need to go to the hospital then.”

“i will eat every medicine in that bag if you /don’t/ drop me off at huaisang’s office.” lwj amends, neatly closing all the loopholes

“at least let me come with you.” lxc says in his last ditch attempt to find out exactly what has left his brother so rattled

“i will eat-“

“fine okay. i just worry about you, you know? you never tell me when something is bothering you anymore.” lxc says

“if it is important, i will tell you.” lwj says. he doesn’t want lxc to worry but also doesn’t want to lie.

lxc nods, accepting this, then turns the car around

—•—

“wei wuxian.” nhs raises an eyebrow at the card lwj has placed on his table. “this is the man who has been stalking you?”

lwj nods.

“are you certain?” nhs asks, looking conflicted.

lwj gives him a look.

“okay, okay! just making sure!” nhs says, raising his palms in defence.

“you know of him.” lwj states.

“well,” nhs says, “he didn’t lie to you, he really is a jeweller. he is very elusive though. he tends to drop these groundbreaking collections every fall and then disappears.”

lwj tries to align the man he met today with this talented, cryptic jeweller persona. if they really are the same person, then perhaps unhinged genius fits him better.

“if he’s serious about working with you...” nhs gets a gleam in his eyes that lwj doesn’t like. this is /not/ how he pictured this conversation going. he’s slowly but surely developing a migrane

“look, i’m never going to force you to do anything.” nhs says, “but will you let me speak to him first? i want to know if this he’s the real deal of if we need a restraining order.”

restraining order. this is escalating way past lwj’s mental capacity at the moment.

nhs seems to see that, “you need to go home and rest. i’ll have a masseuse meet you there. let me handle this.”

he says it with such firm conviction that lwj has no choice but to trust him, so he nods.

[Part 2] [Part 3]

#wangxian fic #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxain #lwj x wwx #lan zhan #wei ying #the unatmed #cql #mdzs #my fics #hand model au #long fic

[charmandhex]

Master Post Part 3

So tumblr is a massive nuisance and apparently limits the number of links you can put in a post! So this is probably going to get a little recursive; this post will just deal with 

Tumblr Writing and The Bonds Between Us

So most of the ficlets I put up on tumblr do not have names, which is gonna make this more challenging, so we’ll see how it goes. The Bonds Between Us is an ao3 fic containing a number of canon compliant ficlets centered around the relationships between characters.

The aforementioned Blupjeans spinoff of Pas de Deux. You think enemies to lovers Taakitz is fun; wait until you see enemies to lovers but still very much enemies right now Blupjeans. 

Snow Day. Taako-centric Taakitz fluff with bonus adopted son Ango centered around... a snow day. It should be part of The Bonds Between Us, but apparently is not. I should remedy that.

A Day Off. Blupjeans post canon, just coming off a long day of Reaper shenanigans. It’s pretty fluffy and is in The Bonds Between Us.

What is Left Unsaid. Magnulia, definitely on the angsty side, but I at least think it ends on a happy note. Basically covers first meeting and beyond. Also in The Bonds Between Us; this is going to be a recurring theme.

Sculpture of Flame. SC era Blupjeans pre-Legato. Barry (POV) and Lup go after the Light and shit goes sideways, as it is wont to do. Basically prompted by me thinking Spell Sculpting is the best thing since Fireball. Ditto on The Bonds Between Us; I need an acronym at this point.

Questions and Answers. Ango-centric post canon fun! Basically, people are nosy and ask Angus all the questions, and Taako is basically adopting Angus now. Yes, TBBU.

Fox in the Henhouse. Hurloane! Surprise! Pre-pttm, based around a post (which I linked in a reblog; I don’t want to tag people and subject them to this laundry list.) Basically, Sloane shows up to Hurley’s office. I’m mean and this ends on a fairly angsty, yell-inducing note. TBBU.

The Little Things. Lup-centric fluff, post-canon, centered around her getting her body back. Yes, TBBU.

Takeout in the Astral Plane. Taako POV, about how much Taako loves Kravitz and Taako and Kravitz’s vacation to the Astral Plane. TBBU ficlet.

Scones and Song. Kravitz POV, about how much Kravitz loves Taako. Arguably the counterpart to Takeout in the Astral Plane. TBBU ficlet; are you even surprised at this point?

Cooking Quiche Lorraine. Ren time! Yay Ren! Featuring Ren at Taako’s show and a little bit of her venturing out afterward. There are some Paloma shenanigans, and fuck I forgot how much I love Paloma with a warhammer. TBBU ficlet.

Untitled Lucretia ficlet. Second person POV, centered around the moment she fed her journals to Fisher. It’s more experimental as far as my ficlets go and definitely not TBBU for that reason.

Late Night Research. More Blupjeans pining! Lup POV this time, and Lup finds Barry up sciencing in the middle of the night. TBBU ficlet.

Untitled Taakitz ficlet. This one was inspired from some art by herbgerblin (again, no tagging here, but the art is tagged in the ficlet). Kravitz gets called in the middle of the night, and Taako is groggy but supportive. This one should probably be a TBBU chapter too but isn’t.

Untitled twins ficlet. Going way, WAY back to when the twins were applying into the IPRE mission. Not TBBU, probably will be eventually when I remember to update it again.

Dogs on the Moon. Magnus rushes in! Magnus goes up to talk to Lucretia about a certain infamous policy. Yes, TBBU.

Untitled Lup and Umbra Staff ficlet. Just about how Lup might have come up with the concept for the Umbra Staff. Not a TBBU ficlet.

Pocket pudding fluid mechanics ficlet. Yeah, you read that right. I’m gonna teach you fuckers fluid mechanics whether you like it or not. Taako-centric, majorly sciencey, mildly angsty.

Untitled canon divergent AU part one. Taako inadvertently breaks Lup out of the Umbra Staff early!

Untitled canon divergent AU part two. Lup possesses her brother to start a family reunion! I’m tempted to continue this if there’s interest.

SURPRISE! It’s my one and only Graduation ficlet. Centered around the Firbolg, and it’s nostalgic but sad. Firbolgs live long lives and Druids... Druid.

Redundant master post link.

#charm works #charm master post

[rubberduckyrye]

You don’t really seem to talk about Angie even though she probably lies just as much as Kokichi, albeit with a different approach. Why is that?

No offense anon, but this sounds like a loaded question xD Id why, maybe it’s cause I’m still tired? Anyway--

There are several reasons why I don’t talk about Angie.

One: This blog is a Kokichi blog. Celest insisted I write this, and it’s kind of true. I started this blog as a place where I can ramble about Kokichi, it even says as such in my description. MY URL is a reference to Kokichi, my Icon is Kokichi, it’s all Kokichi, I am just Kokichi. Nee-heehee!

(I’m joking, but people have joked that I’m literally Kokichi before dnsajkdna)

(I even have this snickering/laugh that sounds like Kokichi’s “nee-heehee” I’m not joking, I’ve had this laugh for years)

Anyway, this leads me into point two: Kokichi is my current hyperfixation. People with ADHD have this mental phenomenon called “Hyperfixate” which means people with ADHD get... Hmm, very very very into that One Thing. They often end up thinking about That One Thing a lot and it’s a symptom of ADHD that can be tiresome to manage and tiresome to listen to, even for other ADHDers... unless they’re both fixated on the same One Thing then they will talk about that One Thing for hours. Literal hours. Nonstop.

If you’ve ever talked to someone with ADHD, you’ll see what I mean. You bring up their hyperfixation, and you’ll see the switch turn “on” in their faces as the infodump literally everything there is to know about their fixation. We ADHDers get very excited over our fixations. It’s like, showing a puppy their favorite treat. 

And before you ask, no, I don’t think we can control out fixations. So I can’t shift my fixation to something else at will. If I have a shift in fixations (you’ve seen it before probably, when I get fixated for a day or so on my interpretation of Chara from Undertale, I know that it’s happened before) it’s pretty unwilling. I can try to trigger certain fixations with music (I.E. listening to a song that I associate with Chara will make me think about her and possibly trigger a spell of fixation) but I can’t control what my brain latches on to, and it currently has not latched on to Angie.

Point three: I don’t get people asking about her. Most people come to me for Kokichi because of the aforementioned reasons. Because of my fixation, I’ve done a ton of character studying on Kokichi, and because of that, people are drawn in to my interpretations and opinions on the character and want to know more about my thoughts on him. Angie never comes up in asks I get, and that’s because people aren’t as interested in her as they are in asking about my interpretation of Kokichi.

Point four: This one is touchy, because of the subject, but I’m a little afraid of getting into her backstory and characterization because of the racist undertones in her writing. I’d have to do a lot of research on her culture before I could even get into her characterization, unless I’m going to scrap her entire backstory in one fell swoop by implying that she was lying about everything to mess with Shuichi. Which just feels kind of cheaty. So to do proper analysis on Angie, I’d have to make sure I’m not stepping on any toes on the subject of racism and the racism in her character’s writing.

A lot of people think that the racist writing comes from the English translation using “Atua” but honestly? If the English translation didn’t just 100% change Angie’s FTEs or something like that, her writing is still racist towards pacific islanders and indigenous people even without the word “Atua” being used to refer to god. There’s a lot wrong with the writing and the racism in Angie’s writing, and it all stems from Kodaka not doing his god damn research, so I’ll have to do that in his place and pretty much rewrite Angie’s entire character.

At that point, Angie would be less of the canon interpretation and more of a pacific islander OC, so there’s also that to consider.

Anyway, I hope that answers your question well enough!

#racism mention tw #Anonymous

[flydotnet]

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

VRAINS Rarepair Weeks 2018-2019: Day 13: First Date/Wedding

Summary: He's getting married and yet he still doesn't know if the end result will be Mrs Zaizen or Mr Bessho. (also includes Shoichi as a wingman)

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS Ships: Hireshipping (Ema/Akira), backgroud Zinnia, mentioned Entrust

Wordcount: 3K words

Notes: To be honest this was the perfect excuse to shove all my ships in one fic and get away with it. In a parallel universe where card games in cyberspace aren't the focus of the show and where the Hanoi Incident hasn't happened (but the kids still met anyway), everyone is happy and I can write countless amounts of unneeded fluff. I'm a simple dude: when I can be sappy as balls, I'm sappy as balls. It's been a while since I felt this cliché, but y'know what they say, you can't always subvert tropes all the time. I also hope I got Ema not too OOC for this, woosh.

Event hosted by @vrainsrarepairweeks

AO3 version available here.

Knotting a tie properly isn’t that difficult, usually. It’s a part of his daily routine, of what he does every day before work. Tie the knot, untie it once the day is gone, tie it back again on the day after. It’s just something he’s too used to not to be unable to do it on a fateful day where he needs to be at his best.

But alas, his dry hands are sweaty and shaking too much to properly tie that stupid knot.

 “Brother,” he hears his sister’s voice call for him outside the room. “Are you ready yet? Ceremony’s starting soon!”

“Ah, huh,” he panics internally as he tries to compose a satisfying answer, “soon!”

“Psh, we all know that’s a lie,” a masculine voice makes itself heard. “Lemme see what’s wrong, go check up on the guests and the bride instead, Aoi.”

 Before he can properly react, he’s faced with the purple-haired Shoichi Kusanagi himself, “hotdog seller extraordinaire” as he calls himself. Everyone, including the groom himself, expected him to come to this wedding dressed in any context-inappropriate attire tailor-made for hotdog making and selling instead of any reception of any kind. Instead, Shoichi surprised everyone and here he is, standing before the groom, in a suit.

As said before, Akira himself didn’t think he’d go as far as dress in a suit for this wedding. Oh well, it hasn’t been the first time he was mistaken on someone and it clearly won’t be the last. He’s not a good person-reader.

 “Lemme guess,” Shoichi looks at him with a “shit-eating smirk” (Shoichi’s description, not his) as he moves his eyes up and down, “you can’t tie that damn tie properly and that’s why you’ve been taking ages.”

It’s kind of ashamed that he does admit that, yes, he cannot tie that tie properly.

“You’re a lucky dude, y’know? Contrary to popular belief, I can knot ties like a boss.”

“You do? That seems unlikely, coming from you.”

“Don’t sass me like that, Ema’s already enough for that.”

They both snicker at the remark. Accurate, but not mean-spirited. It’s all in a good war, Akira realized the last of their unlikely trio.

 Working for SOL would usually mean that an employee-of-the-month-tier guy like him wouldn’t meet with more lawless and underground hackers like Shoichi or the aforementioned Ema. Truth be told, they met in college: Shoichi happened to be the guy selling hotdogs on the campus on his free time, Ema was in a similar course to his, and he never really knew why he added business to his courses. They’d meet after classes in front of the hotdog truck, and that’s how they became friends.

At first, Akira didn’t really want to befriend other people during college. He didn’t have time for that: it was either lose time around the campus doing friend things or work to support Aoi and himself financially. If not for Aoi, he wouldn’t have spent so much time near the truck. And if not for Aoi getting lost on the campus when she once searched for him, neither Shoichi nor Ema would have guessed why he was never buying anything from the former. That day was the day where Aoi told him, frankly with her eight years of age, to make friends because he looked sad and lonely. That day was also the first time she ate a hotdog, courtesy of Shoichi and half-paid by Ema.

An unlikely friendship that explains why this hotdog-selling hacker is tying his tie’s knot right as he thinks so.

 “Here ya go buddy!” Shoichi proudly tells him as he sets a foot backwards. “All ready for the greatest day of your life yet!”

“Thank you,” Akira doesn’t find a better way to answer than this. The fault to his nervousness.

Shoichi rolls his eyes before giving him another smirk, this time sarcastic in tone. They know themselves too much for him not to guess.

“Akira, my dude, calm down, it’ll be fine. She won’t leave you at the altar y’know? All you gotta do is say “yes” at the right time to the right question. No big deal.”

He tries to breathe in, breathe out to prove he can, in fact, not be a bundle of nerves twenty-four-seven, but it doesn’t work to his advantage.

 Shoichi looks on the side before giving his friend a strong slap on the shoulder, shaking the latter almost out of his skin. A violent way to revitalize him for sure.

“Okay, look at it this way. You survived being in the streets after losing your parents and your inheritance while attending school and college. You made it big at SOL before leaving them for a company with better morals and for a better pay check. You reconnected with your sis. And now there’s even people here to see you get married, honestly, what could possinly wrong?”

Ignoring the fact “what could possibly go wrong?” has always been Shoichi’s catchphrase for whenever something would in fact go wrong, Akira shakes his head as a resolve.

“Plus, it’s not like she ever broke up with you, no? Considering the dating record she had before meeting you, that’s a good sign!”

He thanks Shoichi again.

“Okay, gotta leave you now, I’ve got a wedding to attend. See ya when you’ll be married!”

 With his tie all done, Akira can officially say he’s ready to go out there and, huh… get married. It sounds more epic and action-packed when someone else sums it for him, but he’s never been very imaginative with words, so it’ll suffice. A last look in the mirror to admire one last time Miyu’s great work with makeup and he’s finally on the go.

Technically, his wedding isn’t very traditional. His late parents, would they have been able to give their input on their son’s marriage, would have surely told him it was too “undistinguished”. However, a wedding is two people’s business (or more, but that’s not his case), and his spouse would have refused the overly outdated themes, the drawn-out and crudely inaccurate monologues from an old man dressed in a robe and other things he hasn’t even bothered researching. He let her do most of the planning: spouses need to fully trust in each other.

 Their guest list reflects their peculiar situation. He doesn’t have much a family left: Aoi, his younger sister, is all he has left, and he instantly refused searching for other relatives who stole their inheritance more than a decade ago, sending a six-year-old in the streets and forcing him to grow up too fast. Now twenty-eight, he realizes every time he thinks of his college classmates who are still partying out there. At least, her fiancée isn’t bothered by how old-fashioned he is: she has allowed him to regain some of his youth once they started frequenting each other.

On her side, the family has been reduced too: her father having died, her mother is bringing her to the altar (she still insisted on this to happen). Her half-brother has accepted coming, at first to his surprise, but after remembering how he was behind his cold façade, it was more obvious. Instead of the father, she invited her theoretical mother-in-law. Their own family business is tense and tough to follow, but at least, they’re all fine now.

 As he makes his way to the altar, to where everything will happen, he thinks of all their guests as a way to keep the crippling stress at bay.

The most important guest to him is, of course, Aoi. She’s his witness too, almost by default in a way: seeing her smile when he entrusted her with this task was more than worth the shot. He couldn’t see anyone else taking care of this too. As such, and considering how little family they had, he allowed her to invite a few friends of hers from high school. One of them, Yusaku as he’s called, turns out to be a close friend of Shoichi too. The world is such a small place.

With Aoi came her girlfriend, Miyu. They met during elementary school but lost each other’s tracks when he had to move places to afford for them to live. That was before they ended up in Den City. They reunited in middle school and dated shortly after beginning high school, much to his surprise but absolutely not to Shoichi and Ema’s. Even if he was surprised, she quickly grew on him with her cheerfulness, her kindness and her wish to ensure Aoi’s happiness. It’s what made them bond with each other over time, after all.

He doesn’t know much about Aoi’s other friends. There is Yusaku, Shoichi’s best friend, but he’s not the only one. There is this young man named Takeru too, a very nice boy as far as he knows, and the childhood-friend-turned-girlfriend of the latter, Kiku. They all met through each other and he has to admit: he felt honoured when he learnt that Takeru and Kiku were coming back from their hometown specifically for the wedding. It probably serves as a perfect occasion for them to gather around, though.

The last, but not least, from their friend group is Jin, Shoichi’s little brother. Akira has known him for longer than his sister’s friends, exception made for Miyu, for this reason. A joyful boy with a smile to give to most people and a passion for video games he openly shares with Yusaku who has this best friendship going with both of the Kusanagi siblings.

Well, time to stop overthinking. The door right in front of him is where it all begins.

 His anxiety hasn’t let go of him, but he tries to look presentable anyway. It’s almost like being on a stage: there is an audience sitting in front of you, albeit more to your ground level, presumably watching your every move or chatting with their neighbours and, even then, it could be about you. Shoichi, his best man, waves him a thumbs up and Aoi smiles to him. On the other hand, his future brother-in-law seems as impassable as ever, despite a slight smile drawing near. The chatting subdues more and more as a not-so-familiar music resonates through the building, a reception venue to be exact. They didn’t want anything too public and especially not retrograde.

“Oh, it’s starting,” Aoi makes a last little comment before they all look in the same direction.

 And there arrives the bride in a black dress reaching her knees with pink highlights, mostly present in the lace on the elbow-length sleeves and hem of the skirt part. They agreed on him wearing white and her wearing black, after all, based on personal preferences. Someone tried to make it poetic, Miyu if he’s not wrong, but Ema simply told her it was only because he looked better in white and she looked better in black. Her opinions, not his, even if she looks gorgeous in black.

Even if he has seen countless times, from the very first time they saw each other in college to this morning when he waited for her to wake up before getting up, he has seen her in countless outfits: casual class-attending attire, biker suit, winter coats they had bought together, and the most intimate kinds of little-dressed. And even then, even after all these years of dating and months of engagement, he’s still mesmerized by her pristine hairdo with flowers amongst her pink locks, her makeup, the dress she kept secret from him (with Aoi’s obvious involvement in said secret, but he didn’t actively try to ruin the surprise for their sake and his while he was at it), her everything.

And to think he gets to be the one who spends the rest of their days with her.

 Some of the things that he got told when announcing their engagement ring back inside his mind.

“You better take care of her, if you don’t want to be shot on sight,” from her older brother, Kengo, who is smiling now because his sister is here and she’s beautiful.

“I bet she’s the one who asked you to marry her,” from Shoichi, before he got proven wrong. “But, like, on the other hand, you’re the old-fashioned of the two.”

“Brother, I’m so glad for you! I’d be glad to help with the preparations,” from Aoi.

“And how did it go?! Where did you do so?! I’m sure it was romantic!” from Hayami, or should he say Kairi, who, after accepting they were never dating years ago, still gracefully accepted the invitation before slipping into gossip mode. He can see her sobbing in the audience, and he’s not sure if she’s crying of heartbreak or happiness.

“Took you long enough,” from another workmate.

 At least, Ema arrives to face him, and he’s not sure how he’s still keeping it together despite the acute taste of his heartbeats in his mouth. She has a bouquet, a little coquetry she allowed herself, of flowers she picked with Aoi and Miyu’s help for their meaning. His sister explained him what they all meant, yesterday, but he’s kind of forgotten because it’s a detail. He’ll be very glad to know all about these flowers when the main ceremony will be over.

She puts her hand in his, the one who doesn’t hold the bouquet, and an official they don’t know much about is reciting what seems to be a glorified protocol. The symbolic value of the event is more important than some words read aloud from a deeply impersonal text anyway. The fact that someone wanted him enough to spend their days with him and officially only with him romantically-speaking is still over his mind, blowing his imaginary every time he remembers that Ema, of all the women he has known, has accepted this. On her own terms, of course, so she’s not his prisoner. He has even insisted for it not to be the case.

 He manages to look directly into her eyes despite how nervous he is. His hand is trembling in hers, and yet hers is so stable and so assured, just she has always been: bold, daring, alluring and adventurous. Nothing scares her, everything stresses him out. They counterbalance each other perfectly: he needs someone to awaken a wilder part of himself, she perhaps needs someone to anchor back into reality would she get too deep into virtual worlds and treasure-hunting. Or maybe it’s just his reverie. It could very well be this cheesy romantic side of him who never got to fully express itself until he was financially stable.

“Don’t be so anxious, hubbie-to-be,” she whispers to him with a wink and this familiar flirtatious tone.

He didn’t think he could get redder than he already was until this moment.

 The monologue is a bit more personal when it starts speaking about Ema, from her infancy to her current years, to the end of her twenties, from fond childhood memories (her quirking eyebrows indicate she’s embarrassed by these) to how they met. They both entrusted Aoi and Miyu, aspiring writer, to write it for them instead of the officials, Kengo who would have certainly pointed out all of his flaws in great detail one by one as part of their brotherly feud or, well, each other. They wanted the surprise to be full for the both of them and slightly more objective judges.

He does remember some of these stories. Their meeting has been a bit romanced: they didn’t meet in a classroom and spoke about informatics. No, they met in front of a hotdog truck on the college campus because he got lost while trying to find the offices to regularize his administrative situation and had to ask her for directions. He can still remember her and Shoichi’s laugh. Good times.

 Akira’s heart almost skips a beat when the official stops his monotonous reading and asks the fateful question: “Would you take Ms Bessho Ema as your wife?”, with all that implies getting brushed under the rug. But for once, he doesn’t need to think seven times before speaking:

“I do.”

He’s not even sure if the man was actually finished speaking, but it doesn’t matter. His delivery wasn’t shaking either, that’s a plus.

 The official resumes his protocol, goes on a paragraph about him this time. It’s more or less the same record, but his life is far less interesting to him than hers: he remembers what he’s lived through, and he had to tell Aoi and Miyu about his first sixteen years or so, so he knows what to expect. His childhood and adolescence are glossed over, his homeless time with Aoi either romanticized (courtesy of Aoi who got scared and scarred by the time he caught a dangerous case of pneumonia) or skipped over, much to his relief. It’s fairly accurate for the parts he had no control over.

The man asks her if she wants to take him as her husband, spend the remainder of her days with him, and be there for him because he’ll be there for her.

“Of course I do,” she tells him while not breaking eye contact with her fiancé.

 In traditional Ema fashion, he doesn’t get to hear the command for them to kiss than she has already pressed her lips against his. He has learnt not to be a clumsy idiot at kissing and returns it just fine as everyone claps. He can almost hear Aoi retain herself from crying. It’s like he’s in a movie, but he’s too optimistic and delighted to think anything will go wrong in a subverting fashion.

This is real life, not some movie, and sometimes, life happens to be generous and fine with people.

 Once they break away from their kiss if not just to breathe, her hand still on the back of his head and his heart still beating too quickly, Shoichi drops the question they have never resolved beforehand.

“So, is it Mrs Zaizen or Mr Bessho now?”

He panics on the inside again for a couple moments, as he never wanted to force her into tradition, but as always, Ema is the active one of their relationship, their tandem, and responds for the both of them.

“Call me Mrs Zaizen.”

And she kisses him again before he can respond with something ridiculous.

End Notes

Shoichi is best VRAINS character and that's why the series had to nerf his screentime for us not to notice he was the perfect protagonist. I also don't like to antagonize Hayami despite her... recent character "development", and also I gave her a name because why not.

Some say Miyu got the bouquet tho

#vrains #vrainsrarepairweeks #hireshipping #zinniashipping #my writing