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aquaticrunner · 3 years

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Modern Academic Rivals to Lovers | Edmund x Reader

Request by @generalblizzarddreamer : Hey love! I don't know if you're inspired to write Narnia right now but could I have academic rivals to lovers with Edmund Pevensie? Maybe Edmund could be a law student and the reader is a journalism major? Thanks so much if you do it! | Word count: 2.9K

A/N: I did not mean for this to come out so long but I loved the idea and just kinda ran with it. I hope you like it! I had a lot of fun writing it. I’m so sorry it took so long but I’m finally out of school so I’m catching up on all my requests.

I stood up from the small desk I was sitting at in the university library and stretched my arms up above my head. I’d been sitting at this desk for at least two hours and still felt like I hadn’t made much progress on my project. I decided to go searching for some more sources and scanned the section closest to me. A book title on the top shelf caught my eye and I reached my hand up to grab it. Just as my fingers brushed the spine of the book, another hand reached over and swiped it. “Hey!” I shouted, immediately cringing at the loudness of my voice in the quiet library. I looked over at the thief who had taken my book. The guy seemed familiar like maybe we’d had a few classes together. He had dark, curly hair that had grown past his ears and an easy smile that probably made most people melt.

“Hey yourself.” He said, chuckling as he started to walk away. I bit the side of my cheek in frustration and made the impulsive decision to follow him. “Excuse me, but I need that book.”

He stopped walking and smirked at me. Despite how attractive this boy was, it infuriated me. “Well, so do I.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I saw it first and there’s only one copy.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “You saw it first? What is this, primary school?”

“Seriously? Just give me the book.”

I could see the smile in his eyes as he just looked at me and said, “No.” Then he turned around and walked away again.

I decided not to follow him this time and walked back to my desk, fuming the whole way there. He was the most arrogant and obnoxious guy I’d ever met and I didn’t even know his name. I tried to focus on my project again but gave up after about 30 minutes. I packed up my stuff and walked back to my dorm. When I made it back, I checked the time on my phone. It was only 8:15. Too early to go to sleep. I scrolled through the contacts on my phone until I saw my best friend’s name. I pressed the call button and put the phone to my ear. She answered after the first ring and asked what was up. “Do you wanna go out?”

I woke up the next morning with a slight headache and my mouth dry. I picked up the water bottle that I keep beside my bed but it was empty. I sighed and stood up. I ventured into my small kitchen area and filled up the bottle in the sink. As I drank the water, my mind drifted back to last night. My friend, Valerie, and I had gone to a small club and stayed out till about midnight. I had pretty much gotten over my encounter with that guy at the library. I looked at the clock at the wall and cursed when I realized that it was almost 7:30. I only had 15 minutes to get ready for my morning class. I threw on some jeans and a t-shirt and brushed my teeth. I rushed out the door, barely checking to see if I had the right notebook. I walked as fast as I could to the humanities building and breathed a sigh of relief when I made it with 3 minutes to spare. I took a seat in the front row where I always did and smiled at the boy that always sits next to me. I opened my backpack and grabbed my notebook, thankful that it was the right one. I opened the notebook to a blank page and sat a pencil next to it. I was waiting for the professor to walk in when someone else caught my eye. It was the boy from the library! So we do have a class together, I thought. I waited for him to see me but his eyes stayed focused on his path and he sat down in the middle row. I turned my head quickly in case he saw me looking at him.

The professor walked in a minute later and I tried to refocus my mind on what he was teaching. This class was already boring to me. I knew that research and writing were important, but this class felt almost too basic. As the professor talked my mind drifted to the boy sitting behind me. I wondered if he had noticed me yet, if he was as bored as I was, or if he was paying attention and didn’t notice me at all.

“Does anyone know the answer?” I was snapped out of my thoughts when the professor addressed the class and averted my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t call on me. “Anyone at all?”

“A research question is focused, complex, and arguable.” My eyes widened when I realized it was the boy from last night.

“Yes that is correct, Mr… ?”

“Pevensie, sir. Edmund Pevensie.”

The professor nodded and went back to lecturing. My eyes stayed glued to the boy, Edmund. His eyes snapped to mine and heat immediately rushed to my cheeks and I turned back to my notebook. Now he’s going to think I’m obsessed with him.

When the professor dismissed class after what felt like forever, I threw my stuff in my bag and rushed out of my seat. I made it out the door and thought I was clear and my path was blocked. “Excuse me.” I said, trying to get past.

“Avoiding someone?” His voice burned into my soul and I jumped back.

“No. I just have somewhere to be.” My eyes drifted up his chest as I leaned up to meet his eyes.

The corner of his mouth ticked up and he narrowed his eyes at me. “Right. I’m Edmund by the way. Figured I should introduce myself after you called me a thief.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are a thief. And I heard your name. Everyone in class did.”

This time, he smiled completely. “So…?”

I looked at him, unsure of what he was wanting. “So what?”

He stared at me blankly as if he was trying to figure out if I really didn’t know or if I was messing with him. “Your name?”

“Oh. It’s Y/N.” I don’t know why it surprised me that he wanted my name. Was he trying to be friends or something?

“Well, it was nice to meet you Y/N.” And with that he turned and walked away. Why is he always doing that?

I rolled my eyes as he left and walked back to my dorm, throwing my bag down in the living room. My roommate, Elle, walked out and raised her eyebrows at me. “Someone’s in a foul mood.”

“I am not!” I shouted defensively. She just looked at me and my shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. I met this guy and he’s a total jerk.”

Her eyes lit up immediately. “You met a guy?”

“Seriously? That was not the important part of that sentence.”

She laughed. “Well I can’t remember the last time you said the words “met a guy.”” She said, using air quotes around my words.

I sighed and walked into my room, looking over my schedule for the day. I had one more class and a club meeting later that day.

“Hey would you wanna grab lunch before my next class?” I asked her, walking back into the living room.

She shrugged, “Sure. I have nothing better to do.”

We ate in the campus cafeteria and I went to my corporate communication class. Now I was on my way to one of the meeting rooms on campus for a debate club meeting. It was my first time joining a club and I was definitely nervous.

I walked up the stairs of the building and into the room that was on the announcement. A tall girl greeted me at the door with a large smile. “Hi! Are you here to join the debate team?” Her enthusiasm was almost scary but I smiled back and nodded as she handed me an instruction packet. “Great! Feel free to sit anywhere.” I thanked her and took a seat near the middle. Normally I liked to sit in the front but I was a little too nervous tonight.

I looked around for anyone I might know and noticed a familiar boy with dark, curly hair. You have to be kidding me. Ever since our interaction at the library Edmund seemed to be everywhere I was.

He was busy talking to a group of kids at the back of the room. He caught my eye and waved at me with a smirk on his face. I clenched my jaw and turned back around, facing the front of the room.

The girl who greeted me when I walked in had now moved to stand behind a small podium. She cleared her throat to catch everyone’s attention and I sat up a little straighter in my chair. She spent the next hour describing what the debate club was like, our meeting schedule, and how often we attend competitions. “Now there is a sign-up sheet being passed around. Please write your name and phone number on the sheet.” She handed the clipboard with the sheet on it to the boy on my left and he handed it to me when he was done. I wrote what she instructed and passed it to my right, not paying attention to who was beside me. Once everyone was done she announced that the meeting was over and we would receive a message for our next meeting time. I sighed and stood following the small crowd out the door.

“Hey Y/N!” I looked to see who was calling my name and of course it was Edmund.

I kept walking, pretending I hadn’t heard him, but he caught up to me almost immediately. “Hey, I didn’t know you were interested in debate.”

I shrugged, “Well you don’t really know that much about me at all.”

He put his hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Ouch. You wound me.”

I smiled condescendingly. “I try.”

“You don’t like me, do you?” He asked.

“I don’t have any feelings toward you.” I said in response.

“Riiight. Is this about the book?”

I sighed. “No. I don’t care about some stupid book. Look, it's late and I have to go. Bye.”

I walked away from him and headed back to my dorm for the night, trying to concentrate on my project.

The rest of the week went by quickly with limited interactions between Edmund and me. Finally, it was Friday and I was ready to take a break. However, before I did that I needed to buckle down and finish the project that I had been procrastinating. I packed my stuff up and drove to the library. I spent hours there and by the time I finished, it was dark outside. I packed my stuff up and stopped by the vending machine on my way out. I reached the doors and pushed, but was surprised when they didn’t open. I pushed again and started to get nervous when they still didn’t open. Maybe there’s another exit. I walked away from the doors and searched the perimeter of the library looking for another set of doors. When I didn’t find any, I walked to the center of the library where the help desk was located. “Hello?” I said, hoping someone would answer me.

I heard a voice from behind me, “Please don’t tell me we’re locked in here.” I cringed, knowing who it was going to be before I even turned around.

I slowly turned to face him. “It’s starting to look that way.”

“Do you have your phone?” He asked me.

“No. I leave it in my car when I’m studying. Don’t you have one?” I asked, crossing my arms defensively.

He waved it in front of me, looking annoyed. “It’s dead.”

I wanted to bang my head against a wall. “Great,” I said sarcastically.

“Maybe we can use the library phone?” He suggested and I nodded, walking around to the other side of the desk.

I picked it up and attempted to dial a number. Instead of hearing the phone ringing, all I heard was constant beeping. I groaned when I read the inscription at the bottom of the phone.

Edmund leaned over. “What is it?”

“This phone only connects to other phones in the building. No one else is going to be here at this hour.”

“Well, guess we better make ourselves comfortable.” He took a seat on one of the couches and propped his feet up on a nearby table.

I took a deep breath and sat down in a chair across from the couch.

He stared at me from across the table and I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “Why are you looking at me?” I finally asked.

He shrugged. “I’m trying to figure out why you don’t like me.”

“By staring at me?”

Edmund laughed and I felt the tension in my shoulders ease just a bit.

“So are you going to tell me or not?” He asked me.

I bit my lip nervously. This is going to be a long night. “I never said I didn’t like you.”

“So you’re acting like this because you do like me.”

“No!”

“So you’re rude to everyone?”

“I am not rude! I don’t dislike you. I just have no interest in talking to you.” I finally said.

“Why not? I’m hilarious.”

I snorted in response. “I doubt that.”

“You’re judging me based on one interaction. That hardly seems fair.” He said. I looked away, not wanting to admit that he might be right.

“Well it was one rude interaction. First impressions matter.” I said in my defense.

“Okay, well I’m sorry I took the book you wanted. I needed it for a project.”

“So did I.”

He laughed, but it sounded dry. “Whatever.”

I bit my lip, guilt starting to settle in my stomach. Maybe I had judged him too harshly.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have judged you so fast. Maybe we could be friends?” I asked.

He half-smiled and I felt slightly relieved. “We can be friends.”

I smiled at him for what felt like the first time and he smiled back.

“Let’s play twenty questions.” He said, sitting up suddenly.

“What?”

“Twenty questions. I ask you a question and then you ask me one.”

I curled my hair around my finger nervously. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. You can ask me first.”

I sighed, knowing there was nothing else to do anyway. “Fine. What’s your major?”

Edmund laughed. “Okay, starting off easy. I’m pre-law. What’s yours?”

“Journalism.” He nodded, and I sat for a moment, thinking of my next question. “What’s your family like?”

Edmund smiled and his fondness for them was written clearly all over his face. “I have two sisters and a brother. Lucy and I are the youngest and then Susan and Peter. We’re all really close. I don’t get to see them as often as I like but we text all the time.”

I smiled, surprised at such a genuine response. He cleared his throat and then asked his next question. “What’s your favorite food?”

I laughed and tried to think of a genuine answer. “Pizza. Yours?”

Edmund thought for a moment. “I love anything sweet. Why are you majoring in journalism?”

“Well… I’d like to have an impact on the world. I like discovering the truth and telling real stories. Why do you want to be a lawyer?”

“To defend those who can’t defend themselves, obviously.” He said, jokingly.

I laughed again and thought of my next question. Edmund and I spent the rest of the night talking and laughing. I had seriously misjudged him. He was actually very pleasant to be around. Eventually, we fell asleep and when the librarian woke us up the next morning I was embarrassed to find that Edmund and I had moved together in our sleep. The librarian apologized profusely for not checking before she locked up and then Edmund and I were on our way out of the library.

He walked me to my car and I grabbed his arm before he turned to leave. “Thank you.”

He looked at me curiously. “For what?”

“For making last night a little better. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d been locked in by myself.” In a moment of bravery, I leaned forward and hugged him.

Edmund hugged back and I could feel the warmth radiating off of him and his heart beating in his chest.

I leaned back slowly and Edmund kept his arms around me.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

I nodded and Edmund leaned forward, immediately capturing my lips with his. The kiss was passionate and I could’ve sworn I saw literal sparks. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted but I was sure it wasn’t long enough. He leaned his forehead against mine and I smiled at the closeness.

“Do you want to go out tonight?” He asked me.

“I would love to.”

He kissed me on the cheek then began to walk back to his car.

“Hey Edmund!” I called. He turned back to face me. “Thanks for stealing my book.” A smile broke out on his gorgeous face and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Anytime.”

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noona-clock · 3 years

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What’s Your Sign?: Sagittarius

Genre: Celebrity!AU

Pairing: Choi Minho x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Words: 5,534

Author’s Note: Since I’m so fascinated by astrology, I decided to do a Zodiac series! I will be writing a one-shot fic for each sign featuring different members from different groups (and even an actor!). Each story will be posted on the 5th of the month during that sign’s season. Please reblog, comment, or send in an ask with your feedback! Thank you for your support 💜

Ever since you’d seen him in his first ever role on a television series about five years ago, you’d fallen in love with Minho.

Choi Minho, probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen. Through a screen, at least. You hadn’t yet been lucky enough to see him in person.

And since you’d fallen in love with him after watching his very first episode of that television series, you’d done nothing but support him for the last several years.

You saw every one of his movies the day it released in theatres. You watched every single episode of every single television show he appeared in -- even if he was just a guest star.

His popularity from his first role had soared pretty quickly, which was really a win/win scenario. Minho, who presumably had been a struggling actor previously, was now flush with offers from directors. And you, an immediate superfan, got to spend a lot of virtual time with your new favorite actor -- because, not only did he act in a very large handful of projects every year, he was also interviewed on talk shows, featured in magazines, walking the red carpet of premieres and award shows. He didn’t have a social media presence for some extremely odd reason, but you still felt like you knew him.

From everything you’d seen and read about him, Minho was outgoing, friendly, and charismatic. He was confident, straight-forward, and optimistic. He basically always had some version of a smile on his lips, and based on many posts in the Choi Minho subreddit, he never turned down an opportunity to meet a fan out in public.

He... was basically perfect.

And you couldn’t stop yourself from daydreaming about one day meeting him, falling in love, getting married, and having about ten children together in the most beautiful house in the universe.

But, to be fair, your daydream wasn’t entirely impossible!

You were a bit of a celebrity, yourself!

Kind of.

On the Internet.

You had started a YouTube Channel six years ago, and at first, you hadn’t really had a clear vision for your videos. An absolutely rookie mistake, of course, but there’s nothing you could do about it now.

You’d started off with makeup tutorials because that had been the hottest YouTube trend at the time. But... you quickly discovered you weren’t as good at makeup as one should be to post a tutorial online in good conscience. You also weren’t quite good enough at doing your nails, cooking, or sewing to do videos about those.

For at least a few months, you’d been stumped. You knew you wanted your own YouTube channel -- you had a pretty fitting personality for it -- you just didn’t have any one marketable skill.

Until, one day, you stumbled upon a video of a guy watching a K-Pop music video for the first time and reacting to it. That was literally it. The whole video had been just him watching and talking about it.

And you were very good at that. You loved watching things on a screen -- YouTube videos, television shows, movies, you name it! And you always had thoughts running through your head while you watched something. In fact, you frequently wished one of your friends had exactly the same taste in music, shows, and movies as you so you could voice those thoughts aloud to someone who actually wanted to listen.

So, how had you never thought of doing that on your YouTube channel?! There was obviously a market for it -- the guy you’d watched had a few hundred thousand subscribers, and since it was something you genuinely enjoyed doing, you weren’t afraid of running out of content inspiration or motivation any time soon.

It was literally the perfect idea.

The next day, you had set up your camera, pulled up the first episode of your favorite television show of all time, and got to work. When you posted the video a few hours later (Re-watching my FAVORITE show of all time), something about it just felt right. Like the stars had aligned. No matter if you got five views or five thousand, you knew you were on the right path -- when it came to YouTube, at least.

Every day after that, you chose something else to watch -- a nostalgic movie, a viral YouTube video, the really cheesy musical episode of a television show. You tried to pick things from all along the spectrum, and you also tried to wait a few days in-between continuing on with your re-watch of your favorite show, simply for variety’s sake.

Little by little, your channel began to grow. After work, you would film, edit, and post -- every single day. On the weekends, you would film two different videos in case you ever needed to take a day off. Or in case you just felt like posting two videos!

Your first sponsorship offer email had come about six months after you’d posted your first video, and your eyes had nearly fell out of your head when you’d seen how much they’d offered you. (Looking back, your first paying YouTube gig really hadn’t been that much money -- compared to what you could make now, at least -- but it had still been incredibly thrilling.) And, really, that had been the catalyst of your YouTube career and popularity. It seemed just the one sponsorship had been all you’d needed to catch the attention of other brands who wanted to work with you, and when you got to the point where you could actually afford to quit your job and turn down sponsorship offers you weren’t wild about? That’s when you knew you’d made it.

Okay, but really, you knew you’d made it when one of your videos hit one million views for the first time (a video of you watching a particularly cringe-worthy teen movie from about ten years ago).

And now, six years later, you had almost four million subscribers, and your most viewed video had almost twenty million views. Sometimes, you still couldn’t believe it!

The highlight of your time on YouTube so far -- at least, in your eyes -- had been when you’d seen Choi Minho for the first time about a year after starting your channel. You’d still had less then one-hundred thousand subscribers back then, so if anyone ever left on a comment on a video mentioning how long you’d been a Minho fangirl or remembering when you first discovered him, you knew they were an OG subscriber. But ever since that video, you did absolutely nothing to hide your affinity for him, both as an actor and as a person. You watched and reacted to every single one of his movies and every single television show episode -- you even sometimes reacted to interviews or videos other fans had made about him.

Even when your channel hit some pretty big milestones -- five-hundred thousand subscribers, one million, two million, three million subscribers -- you never played it cool when it came to Choi Minho. You switched up your content and your editing style here and there, but one constant on your YouTube channel was the fact you let your inner fangirl shine for all the world to see.

In fact, just last month, the trailer for his new movie dropped, and you were able to upload your reaction to it within two hours. Since then, you’d read and watched every interview you could find, favorited every tweet about the upcoming film, and liked every post on the #ChoiMinho hashtag on Instagram. Since he had no social media, you had to be satisfied with other people’s content rather than his own.

You were scrolling through his hashtag on Instagram right now, actually, as you procrastinated getting out of bed to go set up for another day of filming.

Now that you had almost four million subscribers and were approached by more than several companies for sponsorships every single day, you were able to focus on your channel full-time. You definitely got cabin fever from time to time, but it was worlds better than filming after work and on weekends. Now, you could actually take a day off whenever you wanted! It was glorious!

But you still procrastinated working. You were still human, after all.

After you caught up on his hashtag and liked just about every picture you could, you navigated to your inbox to look through your DMs. Over the years, it had gotten pretty easy to skip past the spam and sugar daddy requests (which were plentiful, unfortunately), so you no longer dreaded checking the unread messages. You could usually tell which ones to delete straight away from the profile picture and first few words alone.

To be quite honest, you really only opened ones where you either could tell someone was genuinely reaching out to say hi or thank you for posting your videos or... messages with Minho’s name visible in the preview. Shameless, but oh well!

After deleting a few messages at the top which were clearly spam, the next one you came to was actually one of those messages -- you saw ‘Minho’ in the preview. It was the very first word, even! And in all caps.

You pressed on it as quickly as you could.

And when your eyes took in the rest of the message... your heart stopped.

MINHO WATCHED ONE OF YOUR VIDEOS!

...This had to be a prank, right?

But right after the message in all capital letters was a link to a YouTube video, and the preview for the video was right below the message.

It was one of those videos put out by a big fashion magazine where celebrities watch videos about them and react to it. Usually, musicians and singers would react to covers of their songs by fans, but every once in a while, actors would read tweets or watch fanmade videos about them.

And when you clicked on the link this person had sent, the video opened in your YouTube app to show the title “Choi Minho Watches Fan Videos on YouTube,” and your eyes widened.

If what the Instagram message said was true... Minho had watched not only a fan video... but your fan video. And since his movie was premiering in just a couple of days, he had most likely watched your reaction to the trailer.

Oh my god.

Since the video had started automatically after clicking the link, you took a deep breath and concentrated all of your focus on your phone screen. You were not going to miss the part where he watched your video.

But, of course, after not even thirty seconds, you found you had already gotten distracted by how handsome he looked.

You quickly shook your head a bit, widening your eyes briefly before narrowing them to focus on your screen again. “Come on, Y/N,” you muttered to yourself. “You can watch it again right after this to admire him.”

It was only a fifteen-minute video, so it’s not like you had to wait forever to get to the part where he watched you!

Still, though, as the minutes ticked by, you felt your heart begin to race in anticipation.

What would he say about you? Would he find your obsession with him creepy? I mean, it had to be a little creepy watching someone squeal and profess their love for you -- someone you’d never met!

But, then... when you got really mushy comments... most of the time, it didn’t feel creepy. It just felt sweet, and you were incredibly grateful that a lot of your subscribers and viewers were so supportive.

Ugh! You were getting off track again!

You shook your head once more and set your gaze back onto your phone screen.

Finally, when the clip of Minho watching a fanmade music video transitioned into the clip of him watching your video, your breath caught in your throat.

Were you going to survive this?

Outcome is unclear.

“Oh, yeah, I know her,” Minho said as your trailer reaction video began to play in the corner. “She’s the reaction girl, right?”

Your jaw dropped.

................Excuse me?!

Minho knew you?!

As you watched Minho watching you with the most adorable soft grin on his lips, your hand slowly crept up to cover your mouth in shock.

And, then, when you in the video paused the trailer to bring up another one of his movies that this trailer had reminded you of, his grin widened and he looked very pleased. “She knows her stuff, huh?”

You heard someone behind the camera murmuring something, and subtitles appeared on the screen. “She’s a known superfan, actually.”

Minho’s brow furrowed and he leaned toward the camera. “She’s what?”

“A superfan,” the person repeated, a little bit louder. “She’s known to her viewers for watching all of your movies and shows. There are always comments about you on all of her videos.”

Minho’s eyes widened a little in surprise. “Really? All of them? Comments about me?” He leaned back and nodded slowly after, apparently, receiving a positive answer. “I had no idea. I’ve just seen her videos about, like, the cheesy teen movies we watched as kids.”

You truly almost dropped your phone.

So... he knew who you were, but he hadn’t known that you fangirled over him on a regular basis?

First of all, how was that possible?

Second of all, did it really matter?! He knew who you were!

He knew who you were!

You didn’t expect that he regularly watched your videos, but still.

HE KNEW WHO YOU WERE!

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you watched him finish up watching your reaction video. The look on his face was one of delight, and even though you knew he was a good actor, it sure didn’t seem like he was simply pretending not to be creeped out.

“She’s so fun,” he smiled as your video ended, his gaze shifting back to the person he had spoken with earlier. “She has more? Like, for my movies?”

The person mumbled something back, and this time, there were no subtitles on the bottom of the video. But Minho’s eyebrows shot up immediately.

“All of my movies?” he asked. And then he let out a joyous chuckle and added, “No way.”

He quickly turned to the computer and clicked on your channel name.

But the video transitioned into another clip of someone else’s video, so you didn’t get to see if he actually watched any other ones.

Even if he hadn’t, you were still overjoyed -- to say the least -- that he had watched just one!

He knew who you were! He had actually known who you were before this which was probably the most surprising thing you’d ever heard in your entire life. (Besides the fact that Minho was currently single. That was definitely more surprising than anything.)

After sitting in your bed for a few minutes, staring blankly at your screen as the video finished up, your gaze unfocused and blurry, you finally came to when you realized the video had ended.

And then you proceeded to freak out.

You squealed and shrieked and kicked your legs and rolled around and scrambled to your feet to jump up and down on your bed with glee.

Was this the best day of your life?

Quite possibly!

Once you’d calmed down just a tad, you plopped back into a sitting position, crossing your legs into a pretzel as you navigated back to Instagram.

You sent a reply to the person who’d sent you the video (”OH MY GOD THANK YOU HE KNOWS ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”) and then refreshed your inbox.

As expected, a whole new slew of messages came through and literally every single one seemed to be about the video.

Your lips split into a huge grin, and just before you clicked on a random one to read and reply to it... you noticed that one message had a blue check by the sender.

Pausing, you shifted your gaze to that message.

And your heart jumped up into your throat when you recognized the name of the account.

Obviously, it wasn’t Minho himself because he didn’t have one.

But it was the next best thing.

His management company.

You followed them, of course, and liked every single picture about him or with him. Of course!

But you had never gathered up the courage to message them. You’d had no reason to! What would you have said?

And now they were messaging you.

The several days following the video of Minho watching your video had been... a blur. To say the least.

You still weren’t even really sure how you’d gotten here.

I mean, you knew you were here because Minho’s management company had direct messaged you on Instagram inviting you to the premiere of his movie and you had accepted without one millisecond of hesitation and then you’d gotten on a plane a couple of days later and then checked into a super nice hotel and had a stylist and makeup artist sent to your room and after many hours you now looked better than you ever had in your entire life.

That’s how you got here.

But you still weren’t even really sure how you’d gotten here.

A rather large stroke of luck?

Good karma?

Hard work to grow your YouTube channel into something that would make you more easily recognizable by actual celebrities and their management companies?

Or a combination of the three?

Either way, you were overwhelmed with gratitude, and you knew you would never be able to forget this experience -- even if you, for some odd reason, wanted to.

I mean, you were currently in a really nice car, and the driver (yes, you had a driver!) was taking you to the red carpet.

The red carpet!

An actual movie premiere! With an actual red carpet!

And the movie was Minho’s movie.

You were at the premiere of Minho’s movie.

Oh my god, what if you saw him?!

As the car rolled to a stop in front of a crowded theatre, your heart and stomach dropped down to your very expensive and gorgeous shoes.

You’d gone to somewhat fancy events before -- it came with the job of being a YouTuber -- but never anything like this. Never an actual movie premiere. Never the chance of seeing your favorite actor in the history of time. And, obviously, never walking a red carpet.

Your door magically opened just as the car stopped moving, and a hand popped out of nowhere to assist you in exiting the vehicle. As gracefully as you could, you slipped your fingers into the mysterious palm, allowing it to gently pull you up and out of your seat and onto the sidewalk.

Almost immediately, camera clicks, light bulb flashes, and inquiring voices filled the air.

Cameras and lights in your face, you were used to. It was your everyday life, in fact!

But... all these people? Looking at you? Watching you? Taking pictures of you?

I mean, yeah, a few million people watched your videos. But it was absolutely not the same as a hundred or so reporters and photographers standing right in front of you.

Thankfully, some short but very powerful woman guided you onto the red carpet, muttering to you that all you had to do was stand in front of the backdrop, pose and smile for the cameras, and then move on to the next mark. Some reporters from news and entertainment channels would be waiting along the way to interview you (which didn’t scare you quite so much as you’d been interviewed a few times before), and all in all, it would take about an hour.

But it took you way less than an hour to discover that walking a red carpet is not as glamorous as it looks on television.

Walking like your shoes were covered in almost-frozen molasses so every photo taken was a good one. Switching back and forth between facial expressions so every photo taken wasn’t the same one. And do you know how many good places there are to put your hands when posing for a picture? Exactly two. One was on your hip and the other at your side. That was it. Definitely not clasped in front of or behind you, and definitely not tucking your hair behind your ear.

And just when you were sort of getting used to the constant posing for pictures, another short but powerful woman gently grabbed your arms and led you to a reporter from the most-watched entertainment news channel in the country.

“Hello, hello!” the perky reporter chirped as you approached her. “Come on over here!”

“Hi,” you greeted awkwardly as you made your way to the small mark on the ground next to her, holding up your skirt with one hand so you wouldn’t trip.

“Y/N! Good evening, good evening, how are you doing?” she asked before sticking the microphone in your face.

You had to quickly get over the shock of her knowing your name since you didn’t want to look like a fool on live television, so you forced a grin on your lips and answered, “I’m pretty overwhelmed, actually!” you chuckled.

“Is this your first time at a red carpet?”

“It is, yes,” you confirmed with a slight nod. “And I’m so used to being alone in my house, talking to myself in front of a camera, so this is all new territory for me.”

The reporter laughed with delight before asking which designer you were wearing. You answered her with ease since your stylist had drilled it into your brain before you’d left the hotel.

Then, after she asked you to tell the folks at home what you’re known for, she said, “It’s a pretty fun story of how you got here, isn’t it?”

“Oh, it is,” you answered, your lips pulling into a shy but excited grin. “I woke up one morning to a message on Instagram, and someone had sent me --”

The reporter interrupted you then, and you noticed her gaze was directed over your shoulder. You turned to look, and --

Well, the next few moments happened so quickly, you really had no idea how you reacted.

“Y/N!” Minho called out, smiling widely and waving before reaching out and sliding his hands over your shoulders. He stood next to you, squeezing you once before letting his arms drop down to his side. “I’m so sorry for interrupting --”

“No, we were just talking about why she’s here at your premiere!”

Minho’s smile brightened even more, and he continued on with the story you’d been telling.

Meanwhile, you were standing there. Mute. Staring at him.

Because oh my god.

How was it actually possible that Minho was more handsome in real life?

But also, how was it actually possible that Minho was standing next to you in real life?

But also also, how was it actually possible that Minho was real?

That’s the real question, isn’t it?

You came to when you heard him say, “Yes, this is our first time meeting,” before turning to you and holding out his hand for a handshake. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You took his hand, shaking it weakly, and said the first thing that came to your mind: “Oh my god, hi.”

The reporter giggled, but Minho, instead of acting embarrassed for you, simply let go of your hand and moved to pull you into a hug.

Holy cannoli, Minho was hugging you.

Choi Minho. Was hugging. You.

Hugging!

You!

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” he repeated with a grin after pulling away, though he was still incredibly close to you and gazing at you with those sparkling, dreamy eyes of his.

“You, too,” you managed to reply shakily.

The reporter then went on to interview Minho, asking him who had designed his suit, what his character in this new movie was like, and if he was working on any new projects.

“I’m in the early stages of something, yes,” he answered. “I don’t think I can say too much more, but in the meantime, I think I’d really like to film some videos with Y/N, branch out onto social media.”

Your heart stopped, and you knew your facial expression was doing nothing to hide your surprise.

Minho then turned to you with an adorably guilty look on his face. “I mean, if it’s alright with you, of course.”

“Yes, absolutely!” you burst out immediately, and the reporter giggled once again.

“Well, there you have it, guys,” she said after turning to face the camera. “You heard it here first -- a brand new collaboration in the works, so keep an eye out.”

She turned to you then and asked you to remind the viewers of the name of your YouTube channel. You leaned into the microphone and silently praised the lord you were able to remember it.

“Thanks so much, you two,” the reporter said with a very peppy grin. “Have a wonderful evening!”

“You, as well,” Minho answered before putting a hand in-between your shoulder blades and guiding you back to the red carpet.

Wait, he was guiding you back to the red carpet? He wasn’t... leaving?

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured in your ear, his breath causing the most delicious tingle down your spine. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just wanted to meet you --”

“No,” you shook your head slightly. “It’s -- it’s totally fine. It wasn’t rude at all. I’m -- I just -- I’m a little overwhelmed. In a good way!”

“Totally understand. I remember my first movie premiere like it was yesterday, I know exactly how you’re feeling.”

You simply let out a nervous chuckle, but then Minho did something to make you even more nervous (which you hadn’t even been sure was possible).

He bent his arm and held out the crook of his elbow toward you.

“Shall we?”

Okay, you were now convinced this was a dream. This was all a wonderful, perfect, heavenly dream.

There was just no way that any of this could happen in real life! Being invited to Minho’s movie premiere was one thing, but him interrupting your interview on the red carpet and mentioning he wanted to film a YouTube video with you? Him offering to actually walk the red carpet with you on his arm?!

Nope. Definitely not real.

So, since this was absolutely a dream, you figured you’d just go with it!

“We shall,” you replied as a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

You slid your hand into the crook of Minho’s elbow, and the two of you slowly made your way down the red carpet. Together.

It didn’t take long for you to be awed by his professionalism. When the cameras began to flash, he posed like a natural. It seemed so easy for him, but you figured it probably was easy after going through this so many times.

He murmured helpful hints and reassuring words to you as you struggled through, and he even insisted on doing his interviews with you by his side.

(Of course, before the two of you approached each reporter, he asked you quietly if you would rather have the spotlight all to yourself. He didn’t want to usurp your first experience on the red carpet and would gladly step away so you could finish the process on your own. You declined every single time.)

When you finally reached the entrance to the theatre about an hour later, you figured Minho would say it had been nice to meet you and be on his way.

But you should’ve remembered that this was a dream!

“Do you want to come inside? We can sit together during the movie if you want. I mean, you’re pretty much my unofficial date already, but you can absolutely say ‘no’ if you don’t --”

“I would love to,” you interrupted, your voice more sure and firm than it had been all evening.

But hearing your favorite actor and biggest crush of all time declare that you were his date for the night would do that to you. Plus, Minho literally exuded confidence and warmth -- you’d always thought so while watching him on a screen, and it was both relieving and exciting to learn he was exactly the same in real life.

Minho smiled at you and then led you into the theatre, your heart now basically in a constant state of flips and somersaults.

Once the two of you took your seats in front of the screen, Minho turned slightly toward you.

“I have to admit, I’ve been watching your videos a lot since I filmed the reaction for the magazine,” he said with the most attractive half-smile you’d ever seen in your life. “Seriously, thank you so much for being so supportive.”

“Oh my god, no, thank you,” you replied breathlessly. “I can’t believe you watched my videos.”

“They’re kind of addicting,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what it is, but I definitely understand why you have so many subscribers. I actually created my own YouTube account just so I could subscribe to you.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart actually stopped somersaulting because it stopped beating altogether.

“Are you serious?” you asked.

“You’re so entertaining! It feels like watching those movies and shows with a friend. And I like how you’re really honest but still nice about it. You don’t seem to have a cruel bone in your body.”

“Uh, no, I think you’re getting me mixed up with yourself,” you replied with a somewhat awkward laugh.

Minho simply grinned at you, and the somersaults started back up inside your chest.

“I was serious about wanting to film with you, though,” he said, eyebrows raised earnestly. “I would love to collab --”

“Yes, absolutely,” you reassured him as fervently as you could. “Literally whenever. Please. Yes.”

“Okay, good,” Minho chuckled before reaching into his pocket and sliding out his phone. “Here, give me your number so I can let you know when I’m free next.”

You hesitated before accepting his phone because...

What?!

Minho was giving you his phone. His actual phone. So you could put in your number? Your number?

This night just kept getting more and more unbelievable.

But you were never in a million years going to pass up the opportunity to give Choi Minho your phone number, so you took his phone and quickly added yourself as a contact.

“Perfect,” Minho murmured, almost to himself, when you handed his phone back to him. He looked at the screen for a few moments, and you noticed a soft grin pulling at his lips. And then he shifted his gaze over to you and said, “I can’t wait.”

And... as your eyes locked on his...

You had a moment.

A moment.

One of those moments you will never, ever forget as long as you lived.

One of those moments where your future basically flashed before your eyes.

Minho arriving at your house to film a video with you, a friendship forming, late night texts and phone conversations, going out to restaurants whenever he was in town... a more than friendship forming.

And you truly could’ve sworn this was not just your heart wishing, but... you honestly felt like you were going to marry this man.

“I can’t either,” you replied softly just before the lights went down.

The first thing you did when you got home was set up your camera and film a video relaying everything about your experience at Minho’s movie premiere.

Of course, you didn’t mention The Moment -- y’know, the moment you had when you realized you were most probably going to marry him? And you could just feel that it wasn’t wishful thinking? You figured it was probably best to keep that to yourself for now.

But everything else you shared with your subscribers, and you did nothing to hide how wonderful and magical it had all been -- and it had really been Minho which had made it so perfect.

“And you guys, he is truly exactly the same in person as he seems in, like, interviews and stuff. He’s so nice and so friendly and so warm and so gracious and --”

But you were interrupted by a text message.

Most of the time, you left your phone on silent as you filmed, but you’d been too excited to get all of your thoughts out that you’d forgotten to switch the sound off before turning the camera on.

“Whoops,” you murmured as you reached for your phone on your desk in front of you.

Instead of simply turning your phone on silent, though, the actual text message you’d received caught your eye and was too intriguing to ignore.

It was from a number you didn’t have saved, but your instinct to read the first few words of a message from an unknown sender took over... and you were incredibly glad it did.

Because the message was:

Hey, it’s Minho 😁 Are you free next week?

OTHER SIGNS: ARIES, TAURUS, GEMINI, CANCER, LEO, VIRGO, LIBRA, SCORPIO, CAPRICORN, AQUARIUS, PISCES

#kwritersworldnet #minho scenarios #minho imagines #minho au #minho fluff #minho fanfic #shinee scenarios #shinee imagines #shinee au #shinee fluff #shinee fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #choi minho #shinee

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perhapsthanatos · 3 years

Text

10:32 pm with yuta ♡

nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)

alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn

genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.

word count: 1400~

playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.

warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3

“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”

“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”

“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”

“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”

you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?

you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?

after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”

a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.

“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”

“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“

“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”

his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”

you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”

he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”

“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”

“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.

knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.

yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.

he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.

“get in, princess.”

and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.

“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.

“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”

you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.

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kkaebsongtypo · 3 years

Text

01 | m.l | next

why wont you love me // hrj [02]

pairing: renjun x reader

genre: friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, slight angst

wanings/notes: alcohol consumption (all parties are of legal age, drink responsibly!), mentions/symptoms of anxiety, mentions/signs of abandonment issues, jealousy, inspired by the song Why Won't You Love Me by 5sos

(warnings/notes are subject to change and updates if needed.)

word count: 2.1k

Renjun and y/n are an inseparable pair; they know each other like the back of their own hands. For the most part. Renjun keeps his true feelings hidden; y/n refuses to acknowledge their own. Both hold the fear of losing each other. But will one night out and a little too much to drink change everything?

a/n: hello part two is f i n a l l y here- sorry for the super long wait ;-; lmk if you want to be in a taglist ^-^

A week without Renjun and the boys proved to be a lot more difficult than you expected. On any other day, a normal day, you would have Renjun or Jisung on video call to keep you company whilst doing your work, cleaning the house, or just any other task. On any other day, you’d have a few of the boys lounging around your apartment, studying, doing project work, playing video games, spending their time in the comfort of your tidy home if they needed to get away from their own. Most of the time, it didn’t even feel like you lived alone.

Needless to say, with your main group of friends away on their trip, you were bored. With the boys doing their own trip activities, it was hard to get a normal, lengthy video call in. Procrastination was one of your biggest enemies in the deafening silence of your empty apartment. Without the company of your friends occupying your phone, and your current lack of self control, you were sprawled out on your bed scrolling through Instagram, your essay long forgotten.

You sat up abruptly when you opened Renjun’s story and were greeted with a photo of him and a shorter girl wrapped in his arms. Your chest tightened and at their bright smiles. You chewed on your bottom lip as you stared at the photo, the strange sensation in your chest growing. After a few seconds, you decided to close the app, the feeling (which, you concluded to be anxiety) building inside of you became overwhelming very quickly. You placed your phone face down on your bed and slowly laid back against the covers. You stared blankly at your ceiling and drummed your fingers on your bedsheets and chest.

A ding sounded from your phone and your hand flew to grab it. You hesitated to look at the screen though, unsure if you were hoping it was from Renjun or not. Ten seconds passed, and after a deep breath, you look at the message. A sigh fell from your lips when you read the contact name. It was from Jisung. You couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed that it wasn’t Renjun as the anxiety in your chest continued to swirl.

bby chick <3: Are you busy rn bby chick <3: Can u vc bby chick <3: I miss you :(

You felt a pang of guilt for feeling slightly disappointed as you read the younger boys messages. You truly did miss him as well. The situation prior to his messages simply threw you off and into a frenzy of other feelings. Your fingers typed a response quickly.

: I miss you too :( : and no I am not busy, call me <3

It took no longer than 5 seconds for a video call from Jisung to pop up. After a deep breath to push down the previous discomfort within you, you put on a small smile and answered the call. The sight of Jisung’s face lighting up instantly when you appeared on his screen made your smile become more real, the photo of Renjun and that girl being pushed aside for the time being.

“Hii y/n!!” Jisungs voice was lively and excited. The setting sun shone a warm glow on him and the hotel wall. He waved to you, and you waved back.

“Hey Sunggie, how are you doing?” You asked. He didn’t hesitate to respond.

“I’m good, the guys and I miss you tons though! How are you?” Your chest tightened when he returned the question. It always broke your facade at times like this.

“I’m- I’m uh… yeah, I’m good.” Your feeble attempt at seeming okay was unconvincing as hot tears rolled down your cheeks with each blink. The uncomfortable feeling in your chest returned and your breathing quickened. Though your vision was blurred, you noticed Jisung’s expression fall into one of shock and panic.

“Wha- what’s wrong? Are you okay? Why are you crying?” He stuttered, reaching towards the camera as if trying to reach directly to you. You wiped your cheeks frantically with your sleeves and sniffled, a pathetic laugh falling from your lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Nothing is wrong, Ji, don’t worry-” Jisung cut you off gently. Tears continued to fall from your eyes involuntarily.

“Y/n… please don’t lie to me… you’re clearly not fine…” Your chest tightened more at the sadness in his voice. He didn’t like seeing you upset, it made him sad seeing his friend in distress. You tried to dry your tears again, but it was no use. With a quiet sigh of frustration, you ran your hand through your hair. There was no use in trying to lie again, your feelings were impossible to hide at this point.

“I- ugh. Yeah, you’re right. I’m not really okay- I’m sorry.” You looked down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. Jisung furrowed his eyebrows at your apology.

“No!! Don’t be sorry!” He exclaimed. You glanced up at him and slouched further into yourself. Silence filled both of your rooms. You didn’t know what to say. You were embarrassed; your fear of being abandoned was consuming every bit of you with each passing second the longer you stayed in your head. Abandonment issues weren’t something you’ve ever talked about with any of your friends, there was never a reason to. Not until you saw that photo of Renjun.

The silence stayed for what felt like an eternity of being stuck in your own thoughts on a loop. No matter how many times you tried to tell yourself that Renjun would never just drop you out of the blue, the anxiety just pushed back. Part of you says “he wouldn’t.” but the other part of you fights back with “but he could.” It was a never ending loop; spiraling into yourself with no end in sight. Jisung snapped you out of your thoughts with a question that caused your cheeks to burn with anxiety.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You chewed on your bottom lip and tried to sort your thoughts before speaking. Tears began forming in the corners of your eyes again and they fell down your still damp cheeks when you blinked.

“It’s- ahh. It’s just- that photo of Renjun and that girl. It’s like, stupid but I think it was just anxiety saying like ‘oh Renjun found someone new he doesn’t love me anymore’ kind of-” The string of words fell from you lips quickly and in a mess, your insecurities growing and getting the best of you. Your voice cracked and you sniffled before taking a shaky breath and rubbing your eyes, giving Jisung the opportunity to speak. He was hesitant at first, his voice wavering slightly; he wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

“Hey- um- breathe for a second. Can you, uhm, can you show me the photo?” You nodded and picked up your phone to open Instagram. A feeling of dread grew in your chest and stomach as your finger hovered over Renjun’s story. With a deep sigh, you opened the story, the photo popping up on your screen. You stared at Renjun’s smile for a second before tapping on the small paper airplane icon and sending it to Jisung. You waited quietly as Jisung opened Instagram to see the image. You laid on your back and positioned your phone next to you so the boy could still see you when he returned to the call.

While you were swimming in your own variety of conclusions, Jisung stared at the photo you had just sent, unsure of his next words. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, knowing that he could potentially make you feel even worse in one way or another.

“Y/n- oh my goodness. Okay- that’s not- that’s like Renjun’s second cousin. We just met her today!” You stared at your ceiling as Jisung returned to the video call.

“I… are you serious? Oh my gosh.” You groaned, tears beginning to fall faster again. Jisung frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, still hating to see you so upset.

“Yeah! Please don’t cry.” Jisung tried to comfort you as best as he could through a tiny screen. You sniffled and whipped the tears from your face, only for more to fall. He sighed softly, feeling slightly helpless.

“Look, even if that wasn’t his relative, I can assure you that all of us love you and we would never just up and leave you for anyone else. Renjun especially. y/n he…” He paused for a second, trying to pick his words cautiously to avoid exposing any secrets that weren’t his.

“You’re his best friend. He, of all people, would never, ever do that to you.” Your tears began to slow as you listened to Jisung, taking in everything he said. The external rationalization was reassuring, but the ache from the idea of losing Renjun continued to loom deep in your chest.

“I know that your anxiety clouds your judgement sometimes but if I can do anything to help at any time, please let me know.” He paused for a second, quickly realizing that you were keeping quiet.

“But if you can’t talk to me for whatever reason, try to remember what I just said.” You sighed softly. Jisung was really trying, and even though your thoughts continued to run wild, you were grateful for his efforts.

“Thank you, Ji. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for all that; it was just a huge scare about my best friend leaving me over what turned out to be nothing.” You rolled your eyes at yourself. You jumped to conclusions and got upset over a misunderstanding; you felt foolish. Jisung perked up and was quick to validate your feelings.

“Oh! No, please don’t feel like you need to say sorry for feeling.” He frowned at you and played with his fingers. You pursed your lips and looked down at your lap. Silence lingered for a couple seconds before Jisung spoke up again.

“Um, okay. I’m sorry of this is a dumb question, but like- are you sure that was the only reason for your reaction..?” The question made you tilt your head and bring your eyebrows together in slight confusion.

“Uh? Yes? What do you mean?” Jisung turned away and scratched the back of his neck.

“Ah like, I dunno. The use of best friend- I mean like, are you sure you aren’t like, jealous?” Jisung turned his head down slightly, looking up at you with a careful gaze, nibbling the inside of his lip. Your eyes widened and you blinked a few times. Your lips parted to speak and you raised your eyebrows, but the words got caught in your throat. Why is this so hard to answer? You furrowed your brows for a second, regaining your composure enough to form some sort of coherent sentence.

“Oh- well I mean I guess maybe?? But no. What?? He’s my best friend and he’ll always be my best friend.” You tripped over your words as they came out in a mess. Your heart sped up and your cheeks warmed slightly. What is happening?? Jisung furrowed his eyebrows and tugged at his fingers as words began falling from his lips.

“Right- I’m sorry-” He started to panic, but you cut him off softly before he could ramble an apology.

“It’s fine Jisung, don’t worry about it.” You sent him a small, half smile. He chewed on his bottom lip and averted his gaze. Without letting the guilt-filled silence linger, you sighed and clapped your hands together.

“Enough about this stuff. Tell me more about the trip, what have you been up to?” You smiled softly. Jisung looked at you hesitantly and you nodded; an attempt at reassuring him. He took a second and raised his eyebrows before breaking into a smile.

“Well, the day after we arrived we just sort of slept in, but in the afternoon we went into the city...” You smiled as enthusiasm filled his eyes again, but his voice became mere background noise as you got lost in your thoughts once more. Jisung’s previous question coming back and lingering in your mind; “are you sure that was the only reason for your reaction?”

Renjun is my best friend. I don’t want anything more.

You did your best to shake it from consuming you, wanting to focus on Jisung instead. But the tiniest voice in the back of your mind repeated in a loop, Renjun is my best friend. I don’t want anything more. Right?

Taglist: @lolibaaae @currentlyraisinghell

a/n: let me know if you want to be part of a tag list ^-^

disclaimer: updates will be stagnant. thank you for understanding :)

#neowritingsnet #thank you for reading!!#fic: why won't you love me #tw: anxiety #nct dream fluff #huang renjun #nct #nct dream #huang renjun fluff #nct fluff #huang renjun angst #nct angst #nct dream angst #huang renjun scenario #nct scenario #nct dream scenario #huang renjun imagine #nct imagine #nct dream imagine

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oneboxofmatches · 3 years

Note

Hi!!! May I request a HP romantic and friendship matchup on both eras? (Preferably male), thanks in advance! 💞

𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦 + 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘

19, Libra, Neutral Good, enneagram is 4w5, Ravenclaw, and my patronus spirit is swan. Bi Pan Genderfluid girl using pronouns of She/Her or He/Him. A friend of mine told me that I (kinda) look like Marinette from 𝗠𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝗱𝘆𝗯𝘂𝗴, Musa from 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝘅 𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯, and Alexandra Trese from 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲 (a Netflix animated series), but the exception is I'm short (5'1.2") plus sized Southeast Asian woman with Spanish descent that has messy/wavy brunette medium hair, chocolate brown eyes, oriental skin and a small beauty mark on the forehead. My sense of fashion is in between emo and boyish plus korean glam.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

Distant and shy at first cause' I dunno how to initiate a conversation, but a total opposite if I open up---friendly, ambivert, witty, laughing loudly on a daily basis, talkative, awkward, daydreamer (I got embarrassed from knocking at the door even I'm inside the classroom 😂), EXTREMELY clumsy, secretly likes affection, easily overwhelmed, prone to melt over any wholesomeness, flusters on compliments, lightly blushes on cheesy banters, sarcastic person with a lowkey crackhead energy citing meme references, and talented girl who can be your no. 1 supporter and unashamed to be true to myself. In terms of leadership, I only educate and guide than being a prefect (I might take the role seriously), and will lift my group when there's lacking/incompleteness. About doing projects in school, I become too extra and prepared for efforts, but I'll forget the process in the end.

People thought I'm a demure self-effacing woman that looks "idealistic" or "one of a kind," (due to my protective parents, a reason why I've never been in a relationship) but the truth is, I'm eloquent, warm-hearted, willig to help, kind, intelligent, supportive, nice, creative, enthusiastic, determined, tough, competitive, and feisty outside, but a real softie that can be childish and dramatic crybaby filled with doubts, frustrations, and insecurities with fear of failure that pushes off the limits to to please everyone, yet I still managed to be stronger than ever, even it's a slow burn process. I can be intimidating, sassy, and a douchebag if I receive ends. Immature, headstrong, perfectionist, demanding, hesitant, jumpy, very indecisive, overthinker, quick-tempered, sensitive, and anxious (no joke, my nervousness makes me think worse scenario will arrive or I might break a belonging due to my carelessness). Though can be procrastinator and arrogant, I raised as a religious 𝖺𝗇𝖽 diplomatic person, willing to fight what I believe (including my dreams) 𝖺𝗇𝖽 what is right. In addition, I have a habit of staying up late and doing sign of the cross to ease nervousness.

Blunt but the loudest idiotic feeling-brokenhearted and bitter friend in the group who fangirl a lot, swears like sailor, will act like a silent backstabber on people that we loathe, will crack up over your stupid antics before helping, and bring gossips, but a hopeless romantic who tends to banter with sarcasms or pick up lines as an endearment (but gets grumpy if I received sappy or offensive one), still generous and concerned in a subtle way.

𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦

My hobbies are singing, drawing, roleplaying, listening to music, chatting/browsing on social media, conceptualizing, writing, and reading some stuffs. 𝖨'𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝖾 making corniest jokes/puns, 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀, and dancing when nobody's around or walking like a model if I feel so bold (even I'm terrible at both xD).

𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Loves kittens, eating a lot, cartoons, watching YouTube videos (mostly pageants, ASMR, edit audios, and mukbangs), also enjoys playing games on my sister's PSP. Sucker for arts, choir, night sky, makeup, fun/deep/dumb conversations, Christianity, documentaries (about saints, real crime stories, and inspirational people), reading interesting stuffs, talking about social issues, and writings, chilling both indoors and outdoors. Beside that, my music taste are like late 90s-2000s songs (mostly rock, pop, and country) sometimes kpop and ppop, chocoholic, and a sweetooth as well.

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Things that I hate are stereotyping, HUGE creepy crawlies (spiders, toads, snakes, and cockroaches), firecracker sounds, being left out, loneliness, heart break, blackout, and judgemental people. One random fact about me is, I 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 vent out EVERYTHING I despise in my entire existence---from bad soap operas to toxicity and worse scenarios in real life, because it's a big deal for me, and I consider forcing me to do what I'm not into and manipulating me as my major pet peeves.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦

In terms of triggers...I only have two which are ta𝖨king about divorce/annullment/separation because I came from a generational broken family and religion/beliefs discrimination, cause' there are reasonings that doesn't makes sense because some are too hypocritical.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗔

My best assets are smile, eyes, personality, singing voice, artistic skills, writings, intelligence, and oratorical skills...so I can consider myself as a singer, artist, orator, and a top student who's a former active campus ministry member with three roles (choir leader, psalm singer, and reader). Currently an incoming college freshman, learning how to cook and have so many interests, to the point I don't know what I'm into because of my dreams to become a popular Filipino YouTuber, a novelist, and being part of a successful chorale competing internationally...I also consider joining pageants at school too once the pandemic ends, but maybe.

Thank you so, so much for requesting! I had a lot of fun with this one (as you can tell by some of the really long answers lol) and I hope you enjoy!!

In the Golden Trio era, I romantically pair you with…

CEDRIC DIGGORY

One of the most beautiful things about Cedric is that although he may show some introverted tendencies, he still manages to have a natural gift for connecting to others and allowing them to feel comfortable enough to open up. Really, your initial distance and shyness don't last nearly as long towards Cedric as they would with most other people.

Hearing your laughter brings the widest, cheesiest grin to Cedric’s face. Not only does he adore seeing you happy, but he also recognizes that your anxiety, insecurities, and strong emotions can sometimes cloud up your demeanor. Therefore, it brings him comfort knowing that (for the moment) you’re finding joy. He thrives when you thrive!

However, as much as he loves seeing your more energetic and happier self, it goes without saying that he’s the best comfort for when you’re not having the best day.

Cedric is an excellent listener, so he’ll most likely let you talk without interruption for as long as you need before even saying a word. He wants to make sure he truly understands your current state before acting. He may take a few seconds to process everything after you finish speaking, but then he’ll help you tackle whatever problems you’re facing. He’s especially talented at giving words of affirmation.

Cedric’s listening also comes in handy whenever you talk about your interests! He genuinely loves hearing about the things you’re interested in solely for the fact that you’re interested in them. Side note: you can count on him to be at any music performances, pageants, etc. you may have -- this guy is truly your #1 supporter.

Cedric’s a very good student (though I suspect he’s somewhat of a procrastinator himself), so I can also see you two supporting each other through schoolwork and celebrating each other’s successes.

Like you, Cedric has a strong urge to do the right thing. Talking to him about social issues stirs up a need to help, and I could see you two doing volunteer work together in your spare time.

I like to believe one of Cedric’s biggest love languages is quality time. Don’t get me wrong, this guy loves staying involved and busy. But taking a couple hours to be with you in small ways (even if that means just being in the same room while you scroll through social media) gives him a nice balance.

Overall, this kind boy will be there unwaveringly through the bad times and will laugh just as loud as you through the good!

As a friend, I think you’d best be matched with…

LUNA LOVEGOOD

You wanna talk about the best conversations, relentless support, and overall the most wholesome friendship you could ask for? Luna’s your girl.

Being unashamed to be true to yourself is one of the biggest reasons why Luna is so drawn to you. While she’s very friendly and insightful towards everyone she meets, it can get a bit repetitive for her to constantly interact with people who try to shelter their unique characteristics from the world. In her mind, these unique characteristics are what make people so fascinating! Why should anyone hide who they are?

Luna’s creativity is endless, and I can see it blending well with yours. Collaborating on a personal project outside of school (ex: novel, blog, etc.) together is definitely something I could see you two doing.

Speaking of creativity, finding creative solutions to everyday problems (both in school and in life) is your specialty as friends.

Admittedly, Luna isn’t usually drawn to louder individuals. However, the complexity behind your personality makes it easier for her to know you are much more than what meets the eye.

Speaking of, Luna has a difficult time standing up for herself -- whether it’s because she doesn’t feel a need to or she just doesn’t recognize the meaning behind certain phrases. She NEEDS a friend like you to stand up for her sometimes, and I know you wouldn’t hesitate!

Ranting to Luna is therapeutic to say the least. While her aloofness at times may make it seem as if she isn’t fully paying attention, that couldn’t be further from the truth. She’s actually catching every word, and once you’re done she’ll leave you with a philosophical solution that may seem borderline insane/irrelevant when you first hear it, but it strangely makes sense.

Overall, the lack of judgment from either of you is what draws you together. As a result, you build a unique bond that couldn’t be broken even if either of you wanted it to.

In the Marauders era, I romantically pair you with…

REMUS LUPIN

Let’s be honest, it would take you two so long to ask each other out. You were probably already really close friends, but the insecurities and “what if?” questions from both of you delayed an actual relationship.

When you finally started dating, you were both so relieved. You still share a laugh at how almost nothing changed in the way you interacted with each other.

While with mutual friends, Remus sometimes likes to sit back and just watch you, especially when you get really talkative because this is when you become the most expressive. He has the softest smile when you’re actively cracking jokes, discussing something you’re passionate about, or even calling someone out. Sometimes you may be too distracted to notice, but other times you’ll catch him.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” (While that same soft smile never leaves his face.)

You both hold really high standards for yourself in terms of school, so expect late-night study/work sessions to be your best bet for quality time.

Though the occasional instance of walking through/lying on the grounds becomes a favorite for both of you.

Remus listens when you’re particularly struggling through anxiety or strong emotions, but he has to consciously stop himself from interrupting because he can’t stand how he feels knowing you’re going through a tough time.

All he wants to do is soothe you during these moments. If you’re comfortable, he’ll hold you while speaking to you in a soft voice. Remus, the intellectual that he is, is also your best chance at finding a reasonable solution. So if you're not in the mood for calming words, he's also a great person to turn to for answers.

As for your ambitions, no matter what you choose to pursue, you already know Remus is going to be your biggest source of support every step of the way. He’s more than happy to help in any way he can!

Overall, Remus appreciates you, and he’s always going to make sure you know it.

As a friend, I think you’d best be matched with…

LILY EVANS

Lily especially connects to you because you manage to be determined, competitive, and intelligent without sacrificing your kindness, which is something she can relate to.

You and Lily are the C.E.O.s of doing the right thing. Neither of you hesitates to back the other up when it comes to confronting someone because you know it’s justified.

As perceptive as Lily is, you never need to tell her when something is bothering you. All it takes is a quick glance before she puts whatever she’s doing on hold to check in with you.

The reverse works as well. Typically, Lily really doesn’t internally struggle too much, and when she does she tries to hide it. You’re one of the only people who can see right through whatever she tries to pull.

The constant banter between you two is unmatched, but you both know it's because you really care about each other.

Overall, you and Lily have each other’s backs through anything, even when the other isn’t actively asking for help.

#matchups #fandom matchups #harry potter matchup #harry potter #cedric diggory #luna lovegood #remus lupin #lily evans #lily potter

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inr-lya · 3 years

Text

Mermaid RP Request

This plot has been in my mind since- who knows when, lmao. Probs a few weeks ago, and since i’m having trouble finding rp partners on amino, I’ve decided to extend my search here to tumblr.

As to not waste anyone's time, I'll say it beforehand that I'll be playing Muse B in a bxg or nbxg relationship in which I'm both the girl. I've played as the guy way too often; I miss my girl now. 🥺 and, this is a lit to adv-lit rp, maybe even novella if i’m really into it, and my responses are usually around 400+ to almost a 1000 words. Highest is just a little over 2000, but again, only if I’m really into it, lmao. Feel free to ask for my writing examples.

Before I get to the plot of the rp, let me list some information/rules of mine for compability’s sake.

General;

♡ I'm over 18, so no minors, please!

♡ I use drawn and realistic FCs if you need pics of the oc, though I don't mind what type you use. Speaking of which, I’m from amino, so I have a wiki on my girl, and if you have amino too, feel free to ask for the link! If you don’t, feel free to ask me to copy paste the info to google docs or just ask whatever you feel you need for the rp :]

♡ I can play more than one character, maybe 2-3 max? Depends on their roles in the RP ig.

♡ I have no triggers, but please list me yours so I can avoid them.

♡ I'm not the type to send a message if you were to suddenly disappear, but I'd do it after 2 weeks because I'm tired of my PMs getting clogged up with dead chats. If you're still interested but you need more time, just let me know. I promise I'll wait, my ass literally never reached the middle of any 1x1 rp.

♡ Ngl, I'm getting busy af these days with uni life and plans being made with friends and family. I'm not complaining. I love it, and all I'm saying is I might not be able to reply often. It depends on how invested I am and the difference of our time zones, (mine's GMT+8 btw) but I'll try to give at least a reply every few days or weekly if you're willing to be patient with me.

However, the shorter the literacy, the faster and more often I reply. If we're doing just 400+ to 600+ words, I can reply multiple times a day. Also, I prefer this level of literacy for now, but I can fluctuate to longer responses.

♡ fyi, I'm very open to rp in discord as we can create a server with different channels for ooc chat, rp, notes, etc. If you're up for it, lmk! uwu

. . .

Rules

♡ If you're considering pm-ing me, please skip the small talk like “hey, how are you?”, and just straight-up give me details that you’d like to discuss about the rp. It makes me uncomfortable, lmao.

♡ Have good grammar, punctuation and spelling. I can ignore small mistakes or typos but not constant errors. (I can overlook faulty grammar, however, if you have the creativity to make up for it)

♡ Use 3rd POV

♡ No railroading.

♡ For romance, don't make your character fall in love with mine at first sight or after a few nice gestures unless being naive is a part of their personality. I prefer slow burn. Crushes are fine but don't make your oc feel like my oc is their definite soulmate or something, lmao.

♡ Don't spam me unless I've been absent for a week. I may be busy or not in the mood to RP, but if I'm not interested in continuing, I will let you know.

♡ Any drama, romantic or carnal interactions stay within the RP, do NOT pursue anything with me besides friendship or mere acquaintances, I swear this happens way too often and it's getting stressful. Speaking of which, don't make the RP just about smut like c'mon.

. . .

Okay! Now I can finally jump into the plot! It’s pretty simple, and unfortunately, it isn't mine to claim. I wanted to rp this plot with someone, but they didn't reply to me, and I have no way of finding them again so- yeah, that's the disclaimer if you think I'm stealing your plot or something.

Muse A is a marine biologist who spends their time either studying, finding inspiration for their upcoming projects, or simply take a breather all at the beach. This is where they find peace, where all of their worries melt away and nothing else matters except the present.

Muse A's favourite leisure activity is free diving along the coral reef, underwater caves and tunnels, and pretty much any nook and cranny they can fit into. They're graduating from their specialist residency soon and is searching for ideas and incentives for their thesis along the bays and coves. To be honest, they were looking to mostly procrastinate due to the pressure of a competitive environment finally catching up to them, perhaps a burnout they were trying to get over.

Imagine how they would feel upon discovering Muse B, a creature that had been believed to be a myth, one with an upper-body resembling a human, though covered in brilliant scales and specialised fins adapted to exclusively marine life, and the lower half of a fish, stranded within the abyss of a cavity that would've been completely submerged if it weren't for the extremely low tide that had kept the curious entity from escaping.

Due to Muse A's compassionate nature, they aid Muse B to their freedom, but as soon as an opportunity was in sight, Muse B fled without another glance at their saviour, never to be seen again no matter how many times Muse A were to return to where they were last found.

A few months had passed, and Muse A had since lost hope in their search of Muse B as there was practically zero evidence nor leads to help them unless they were to look any further towards the conspiracy theorists and their claims. They are now focusing entirely on their original, more believable research, unfortunately, they had picked the wrong day to go diving.

The weather had been anything but kind, the skies had gone dark faster than anyone could've predicted, and before Muse A could process what was happening, they were caught in the middle of a raging storm, thrown left and right by the unforgiving waves of the ocean before it all went black. When the light of the sun entered their eyes once more, they found themselves within a secluded area of the island, damp, wet sand beneath them and an image of a woman above, with shining doe eyes and...what is that? Seaweed on her head?

"Hey," she gasped, relieved. The corners of her mouth curled into a smile, her lips still trembling from the thought that she was too late.

"I still haven't thanked you for the last time we met."

An unlikely, most bizarre connection formed between them since, but eventually, the reality of the situation presented itself. Will Muse A tell the world to further the scientific discovery and their career or keep it a secret to preserve Muse B's species' safety?

Alright, and that's the end of the summary! Please read them thoroughly and contact me either through PM or comments. I do not respond to likes.

I look forward to hearing from you! 💜

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denotday · 3 years

Text

Maybel Rhodes: Protectress

Itchy arms. My armbumps bumps take over life and chew my head off like a black mother. Even the sleeves of this sweater craddle these potholes as an english muffin craddles butter. But I'm more than my bumps and I'd make a quip on Fergie, but I'm no Joan Rivers. I'm small, meager. At eighteen, trying to find myself, live my own life. Typical teen drama, boring narrative, sob story. bored already. But know what isn't boring? I like strawberry shortcake and cheeseless pizzas. I have hopes of becoming a journalist and actually leading a career as moreof a Clark Kent than a Mary Jane or whatever the fuck that bitch's name is. Mary Anne? That used to be the name of one of my teachers. Going off; just thinking these thoughts while skateboarding to highschool.

Stay on the sides, away from cars, on the sidewalk, not too close to the white kids. White kids mean white mess, white messes mean cops who sweep the streets and take all the black kids with them in the process. I'm not a racist, just a black kid trying to stay alive in white america. Thank god I'm a weak bitch, one who cries for black men, one who doesn't face real issues like projected aggression. I'm a butterfly, something that men swat away and don't care about until MeToo movements. Gotta be careful but not too careful, kind but not too kind, firm but not a bitch, bitch but not a faggot. faggots suck.

No one thinks to ask these questions, here this thoughts. They see a black woman, better yet, a black female child. Worse thing to live in a ghetto. Sike; I say that I'm black and in a ghetto and get sob points. Fucking racist. I'm skating to one of those Fresh Prince schools. Didn't move on up, I'm simply moving; parents are mid class well grounded and guess what? My parents are still together. Probably breaking up soon but still breaking barriors of broke baby daddies and black slutty whore mothers who don't believe in abortion.

That's humor in of itself. A black kid skates into a white neighborhood with white sidewalks and doesn't have a nigger daddy and nigger mommy. What can be said by those PTA suburban soccer moms who want to demonise me and my own? Or am I palatable and a token black?

Making good grades, going to class on time. Only thing is, I don't have any friends to call. Even if I had one of those top quality iPhone 411s, I still wouldn't want to burden myself with filling up those high-techy contact lists. It's all bullshit after all, just capitalistic bilge. Something to fill the void without actually trying to let the public know that the void they're filling chalks up to capitalism. But again, those little tangents? "What does this have to do with having friends?" Everything. I don't give a shit, I accept shit. I tell things like it is, speak with lisps or change it up by sounding like an oxford professor.Not going to just abandon stream of consciousness 'cause class just started. This aint sims 4 and life ain't something that can be controlled; sped up or slowed down for the sake of an other's pleasure. I'm learning about shit that I'll never use like economics. That's shit that the government gives the state to teach, a little but not enough for highschoolers to overwhelm the system and decide "fuck student loans".

Not too bad here, though. Not all just "fuck hyschool" and teenaged angst. I go to the library, read books, go on my computer, listening to some Biggie and MFDoom and Tribe. Guess I am a nigger. Nigger-me and my nigger music. Even tththough it's they inspiration for they cracker music. Hate on us enough to keep us down but keep us up enough to steal from us. Today I'm reading some teen dystopian fantasy novel that I don't feel inclined to share with you guys. And no, it's not Hunger Games. It's Gunger Hames, the cousin of the franchise. Whoops just gave ya'll the name sorry. Either way I'm into that. Idea of a not-so-distant-future; humans making mistakes that fuck up the planet---disregarding that fact long enough so that the white main character can get it on with someone from the other side. Modern day Romeo and Juliett.

End of lunch, going back to class. It's back to back all day; boring teen shit that nobody cares about. Raising hands, answering questions, not understanding anything by the end of the day. Getting by is my motto. Long enough to get an A in the class and be on those ivy league watchlists. Even if I have to bust my ass to pay for student loans. Leaving highschool after all that non-work---no friends to lie to, no one to walk with, just me and my skateboard. These white paths not dirtied by brown except for my dirt body moving at the speed that a skateboard will go. Shift right here and there. Move away from rocks so that I don't fall headfirst. It's good shit. Here and there there are stone pebbles, blunts from---ironically enough--- the white kids and sharp object that I can't identify. FUCK. I don't have time to move around it and I can't just run offf. My leg'll get cut by it. Gotta just build up enough speed to roll over. Rolling...rolling...here it comes. Crouch down, focus, focus, pump speed anddddd....it stops my speed and loosens one of my bearings. Now I gotta walk the rest of the way back to my white little house with a white picket fence. Man screw--haha pun---this object. I have to use my 20/20 vision to find some small silver bolt that'll practically blend in with this bright ass sidewalk. Fuck white America.

In a little patch of weeds growing like black fists raising in the air I see the bolt and the responsible party for tossing me off the board. I raise my foot to crush this sonnofabiscuit like a bug so that some white kid's bike tire doesn't get licked---mind you this should be considered community service---and I figure that I won't ruin my rubber soles on the glass, so I'll just pick it up and toss it into the sewer. I put the bolt in my sweatpants pocket to keep it safe. I bend over again to peer at the crack in the sidewalk that I'll punt to the other side of the street where the other half of the street lives. It has tribal markings on it and must be, gasp, an ancient arcane ruin that'll give me superpowers. Kidding, you dumb bitch. "Why am I talking to myself this way? Jeez, some self-improvement classes would be nice". It's a bracelet made of some sort of beads. Kindof pretty but caked up with dirt and sand like no-one's business. I'm no Rocket Racoon so I just leave it. Even if I felt that it was interesting enough, I'd have to clean it off and disinfect it. It would just ruin the material underneath. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Lemme stop; for real, in this white bread neighborhood, I might be able to get it appraised and pawn it off for some money or at the very least, see if it's worth keeping. I know; "this is the start of every horror movie", every tv show. I get it, but I'll cleanse the jewelry before wearing it. It's fine. It's fine. Hope it's fine. Jeez.

I put the bracelet in my other pocket away from the bolt and walk back home. The soles of my feet hit the white pavement and my feet move in the fashion of jubillee ferris wheels. Slowly rise in a circle, fall in perfect arch. Walking is divine poetry in of itself. Not too long now. A little further. Feels like the day is stretching. Still light outside and the summer-brink of fall--air is warming my rectum. "Oh god, what's with gays and their rectums". You know your g-spot is in your ass, men. It feels good for us too you know. Nice coolness for the butthole----rectum is for men, butthole is for women. I think. See? Not a Cliff Huxtable type; don't know everything. Not an Urkle. Conversations with myself like this are truly golden (ponyboy).

Fondle the silver piece, twist it in lock, get somewhere new. Novel design, simple concept. My rubber soles give me cat-walking abilities and I edge up the stairs. Hear shuffling downstairs in the kitchen. But the smell of musky forest wood with a hint of olive tells me that it's just my father. I'd announce my presence but this isn't a sitcom and I have a phone that I can use to text. Who talks nowadays?

On the table near the keyrack, I scoop into my pockets in search of the goods. The warm cotton touches the cool silver bolt. Set it aside to attach it to the skateboard later. "Why not now?" That'll be a problem for me to solve tomorrow. "Procrastination isn't good" Yeah I know. I've read the same 1990's health pamphlet that the health teachers give out. I hug my side to reach around for the other pocket. Same warmth, same feeling of comfort except...it's a new sensation. Hollow and porous. It's either bone carved into beads or plastic. Hope to...Well, not God, maybe I hope to goodness? Goodness? What am I? A preacher? Maybe that's why I like 16 year old boys. Anyway. It's too white over here for it to be bone. Unless it's some cracker who brought over some hoodoo shit and dropped it somewere. Great. Gonna burn some incense to cleanse it. Then gonna toss it somewhere so that it can't hurt anyone. Wait. It doesn't FEEL menacing. No darkness, no coldness, there's a comfort to be had. I don't see any visible engravings, no bite marks no arcane symbols. It may be safe. Just to be sure, I'm keeping it downstairs for it to curse someone else in the house. I rise up the stairs into the wide landing. Step, rise, step, rise, step, rise. Before I get to the top, I feel funny. Not sick funny or CURSED funny, but someone-is-in-my-presence funny. Strech my neck to look over my shoulder. Not too far to show interest but far enough to see what's going on---it's my dad handling the bracelet.

I whip my body around and I suppose this gives him a start.

"Hey, just got back from school. I'm pretty tired which is why I didn't want to talk. Found that bracelet in the sidewalk cracks before my skateboard broke. I wouldn't touch it if I were you. Don't know if it's cursed or not."

"Cursed? Bee, this is a genuine Sudanese artifact."

"Huh? When'd you turn into a archeologist? Or are you just nerding out about a 'special interest'"

"Har har. Nothing like that. This area used to be an auction town for slaves shipped from Sudan. Martinsville, Pennsylvania wasn't necessarily known for it's 'clean hands' you know. Gentrification made the area look nicer but its history is still pretty shit-covered."

"Ah, I remember now. I heard about this in history class" No I haven't. I don't even have history. Just want to stop talking to him about some dumb bracelet. "Can it sell for big bucks at a pawnshop?"

"I mean, sure if you'd like to get rid of it. Better to give it to the local museum though! It looks to me like it's made out of elephant tusks. Pretty well preserved too! The wearer must've been some warrior. They only wear these types of jewelry if they're the village's protectors. That's what I've read online anyway. You know how the interweb is though. Could be false."

"Oh wow. Ivory? That's a pretty dirty trade. Don't want to give something like that up to white people who continue to promote the trade. This'll just make the ivory market worse. I may keep it; I just wonder if it's cursed or something. I'll ask a local witchcraft practitioner to check it out tomorrow. Can I have thirty bucks for an appraisal along with an after-school snack?"

"Thirty? What're you going to buy? A salmon dinner with asparagus and steak? I'm not giving you Carabbas money. I can do 18. Enough for some street food."

"Not enough for the appraisal!"

"I'm sure the person will be able to work something out for you. You look twelve. You can play the 'Uwu I'm a baby who has no money, please help me out adult!' card. Or, how about this: pretend to be doing a research project for school on Sudanese slaves in the area. Just act like the school lent you the bracelet for the project"

"So lie?"

"I call it embellishment."

"I see"

I reached into his calloused palm and stole its contents, As a thief, I ran upstairs away from the site of the crime, away from the demons that lurked beneath the stairs. That's customary practice when going up stairs, right? To haul ass like there's no tomorrow like we're that black chick from Scary Movie? Sounds about right. I heaved and ho'd swinging my body back and forth up the stairs. Snaking my way into my room where I burrow for my after-school nap. That's what I tell my parents anyway. What I really do is blaze up in my room and turn on the fan. Gotta keep the smoke minimal. "Such a typical teen". Yeah, whatever. Like your generation wasn't popping ass and drinking bathtub wine when ya'll were young, Get outta here.

It's a good high. Kind where you'd listen to lofi and eat peanuts just for the fun of it. Another bong hit. Satisfying. I'm just leaning back on my sofa; it's firm and uncomfy but when I'm blazed, don't none of it matter. I could lose all of my words...give up....let....go.....

"...."

"What is this energy I'm feeling? So warm and electric. Is this love? Am I so sexually frustrated that I'm in love with a bong? Shit, I fuck with that. That's pretty words. 'I'm in love with my bong'. Such nice love. haha."

I'm hungry and it's four am. The weed has worn off. So tired man. Gotta go downstairs for some chips or something. Hungry to the max. Munchies munchies munchies for the weed monster. What a drug.

I creep down the stairs and up once more. My bare footpads cling to the hardwood and leave sweat prints in the shape of my stompers. During my ascent I leave crumbs. Have the house feeling like a Brother's Grimm story. I satisfy my snack desires as I prepare for school in the next hour.

Running water on my arms. Three passes of lotion on arms and legs. Can't be the ashy black kid that look like they an African living in a dirt house. Ain't able to help the rough patches that coat my body but I can help keep my skin moisturized.

A'ight. Got my fit got my board. Just have to screw the bolt back on and find the bracelet. Shit. Left it upstairs. I'm already late as hell. Rushing up the stairs. Search for the bracelet, find it, get out house. Objectives objectives. I spot it from afar and gravitating toward it, put it gingerly in my pocket. Kindof like someone would with a used tissue. Aren't humans gross? I mean, snot? Bacteria-filled snot? Nasty. Thoughts gone, make brain go from thinking to doing. descending now. Board in arm, door opens with the flick of the wrist and just like that, I'm outty. Deck on ground I put my best foot forward and ram it onto the hard cement to push myself forward. Sorry foot, betrayals sure do suck.

School begins, in class siting in a chair. All day, several hours. Ah, the beloved system at work. Great to know that there are adults who "work" all day by keeping kids seated in a chair. Very progressive, America. Library break? I think so. On my laptop, I pull out webpages on the pocketed---the word reminds me of 'closeted---bracelet. NOW I'm imagining a gay bracelet. hilarious. Great. Typing 'Gay Bracelet' into the search bar and am getting rainbow plastic bands. Ya know, the ones that they sell at Hot Topic during pride month.

"Damn, I'm getting sidetracked" She mutters to herself. Imagine if life were a story being told by some omnipotent force? omnipresent? Think that's the word.

With a bit of typing and a bit of focus. Swift movement of hunched fingers. All is complete, then some. Ogdle: "common of the Azande warriors were pieces to signify their status such as septum tusks, mouth disks, necklaces and other adornments. Bones and tusks were common materials of such articles."

Crazy how this history is hidden. Power was taken from us and buried so deep. We're the originals but every piece of history buried underground. Hidden, secretive Big Bad America. Tale fit for young people all over. Democracy, boo yah.

Train whistle blowing through the air. No train nearby, just the sound of a change in the block. I put it all away, sweep it into my bag. Everything is so messy, so fast. On schooldays like this, it feels hard to even take time to breathe. But I get by since the system wants me to. Think I'm going to skip. Not that the next two classes even matter in the long run. "Such a poor black baby, representing her race so poorly". Yeah yeah. Not the black chick that highschools would put on a recruiting card.

Just another push....door after door falling at my fingertips. The same once that touch the coarse sandpaper of my board. Foot on, foot off. kick once, twice, thrice, now we surf the cement. Now it's time to visit good the kind old black woman who practices witchcraft on dolls. That's what you'd think right? No, they're native and keep old customs within the community. Everyone calls them---agender--- Sage. Nonbinary native americans are actually more common than people think.

Before selling the bracelet to some old rich white drudge of society, I wanna be sure that the bracelet can be cleansed first. I mean. To give away black history to the white man? Hellll no with multiple "l's". It is a pretty long ride there, even on a board. Rumbly road. Pebbles everywhere. Thousands of little rocks acting as smaller wheels vying to fling me off. It's too much.

Mumbling of my own. "Where's gentrification when you need it?" Alright, yes I get it. It's a bad joke. Of course gentrification is bad. Blah blah. Time to pick up my skateboard I guess. Walking on this ground feels just as bad as suicide. Feaful of getting my ass flung into the afterlife. Few yards left....or at least fifty feet. Forty eight, forty five, forty-however-long.

Ended up reaching it after twenty minutes. This trip better be worth it.

"Hi there, Miss Sage. Mind checking out this bracelet for me? I need to check it for a curse or evil energy. My cheap father didn't give me enough for a full appraisal but what can you do with nine dollars?"

"For nine? Not much, doll? What was your name again? You look young, do you have an adult's approval for this?"

"Oh, right. You've got me. It's for a school project. School each student a historical object to research. I figured you'd be able to help me get an 'A' on the project, you know?"

"Your manners are lacking but you seem young, so I'll let you pass. Allow me to take a look at it, if you please?"

God. Full-fledged adults really are something else. I'm only eighteen, not eight. Guess I look younger than I am----

Sage starts burning this wood that's tied with string. Incense maybe?

"That incense?"

"It's a closed practice really, so I don't want to expose anything. But it is a form of incense that I prefer to use to cleanse the spirit of objects and areas."

"Ah, didn't mean to intrude. I'm glad that there are still practices that you keep to yourself. Nothing like the White Man stripping us of our culture."

I got a soft chuckle out of them. Glad that they're able to lighten up a bit.

"..."

"OK, so here's what I've found. There's immense energy here; the power coming off of this thing is tremendous. There's nothing negative about this piece. How'd you ever come across it, again? School, you said? Shame that you'll have to give it back. Something like this would provide a large power surge to spirituals. I'd pay a pretty penny for this."

"Mhm"

"Wonder how the school even came across this. I tell you what. Ask your school where I can find something like this and perhaps I'll give you a little something for your intel, huh?"

"Oh. Sure. I'll just--uh---"

"Right, right, right. The bracelet, I'm sorry. Really, it's more an anklet truly, but--ya know what? I'm sorry. Here ya go"

"...take it from ya. Thanks."

"No problem. Come back with more info on the anklet. That'll be your payment for my time"

Got 'caught in a lie it seems. Don't know how I'll snake my way out of this one.

"Brrrrrzzzzz"

Shit, it's five. My dad's probably looking for me.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter two:

" You skipped class? Bee, I know that you're better than this."

God moms bitch too much. Must be the nursing job coupled with her daily acting gigs that make her so aggro.

"I hear ya, mom. I just had some research to conduct after school..."

"Research? Which kind---?"

"The school kind. I don't know what else you want me to say. I'm sorry for skipping lasses. I got too overzealous and went in over my head. It won't happen again."

"Tskk. Better not. I know that I'm gone almost every hour of the day, but please give me a break, baby. Please just listen to your father and follow the rules. All I ask."

"Mhm, even though he-----you know what, nevermind. Am I dismissed? I have to write up today's school report to type"

Phew. Gonna hit the bong now to calm down from this encounter.

Fuck homework. .... ..... Mhm.

Five minutes passs. Fifteen, twenty. Maybe not minutes. hours? seconds? Time is too funny. With LEDs on, the vibe is fatallll. Still have to open a window to let out the smoke but gosh is this magical.

Mhm magic. Does it even exist? Doubt it. It's all science, right? ....

.....

Right. Like, this anklet. Not real power. Not real magic. Just something people believe in. Like God. It's all faith.

"So, theoretically, I could even put it on my person and nothing would even happen"

"And, so it begins"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT VOICE" and why am I screaming?

Get off, get off, get off! Something's dripping on me.

"Tears, they're tears"

Oh god, I fucked up. I knew that I shouldn't have smoked that much. Knew it'd bite me in the ass one day. Now I'm fear-crying. I NEVER FEAR CRY.

It's all a dream maybe. Go to sleep, Bee. Just take a weed nap.

"Ba ba bang"

A booming voice raspy from coffee withdrawal.

"Everything OK in there Bee? You're about to be late for school."

Shit!

No time for conversation. Move it move it move it.

"'Cmon Bee. I'll drop you off at school on my way to the college".

Bookbag? Check. Board? Check.

I feel the rush of air against my cheeks as I fly out the door and jump into the getaway car. Fast, but atleast I'm not Furious. Dad and I chat it up all the way until the tires cross the smooth pavement of school grounds. Departing words are exchanged along with "I love you's" and "knock 'em deads".

That familiar sound. Principal as the school conductor. "Chooo". Just as it drones, my body moves to the steps of teens dragging their feet toward their dreaded first classes of the day. The light of morning cradles the marble arches of the school entrance until the sun starts to suck in the morning cold to blow out midday warmth.

"So, who are you, voice? What's your angle? Typing ensues. The screen watches my fleeting pupils; left, right, side, side. Wouldn't be surprised if the computer got whiplash from me. One scroll, two, three. Read a page. Nothing. Another website. Up and down; my fingers are cramped now. Nada. New Oogdle search: "Can I hear voices with weed smoking." Now I have a hit; "yes weed can have you seeing voices. Many aren't even your own. Maybe lay off the TV for a while."

"Thanks 'BouncyNina29'. Quora is one hell of a place." Guess it must've just been the drugs then. Hilarious, me hearing some voice. "Gotta lay off the bong smoking".

"Shhh!!" Some nerd in a striped beanie raised a finger to pursed lips.

Sorry, sorry....Jeez. "My bad" You know what? Maybe I can visit----

the train whistle interrupts my 11pm "ball" with myself. "Dammit". OK. Maybe I can bribe one of the delinquents behind the school to take my place in English. Teacher's not there anyway; the sub won't know the difference. Time to go pay someone off.

"..."

"Here ya go, five dollars."

"A'ight and you said what room that English class in?"

"301 B man. It's at the end of the third floor, right wing. Hard to miss and---remember---my name is Maybel Rhodes. Just fake like you're doing some work and no one will even notice that you're not me. I'm a loner, so, that'll work."

"Mhm hmm. I hear ya Maple"

"MayBEL"

"Yeah, that's what I said"

Scoff. In a smooth curvular motion, I plant my feet on the board and race to Sage's before their store closes.

As I approach, they're putting a silver key in a lock. Gah! The store closed.

"Miss Sage---"

"Gah! Don't do that!! Scaring me and sh--I mean, 'crap'. Scaring me and crap. Look kid, I'm closed right now but we open tomorrow. By then, I'll have the energy to discuss your school's anklet with you. Actually, about that. Do you have intel on where the-----"

"Yes, yes. About that, see...I lied. I didn't really get it from the school. I found it on the ground somewhere."

"'Found it on the ground somewhere' is code for 'I don't have money to pay nor do I have anything else to provide'? Am I getting warmer?"

"Look Miss Sage, I'm really sorry. Hey---look at it this way. I'm in debt to you. If you'll just help me with one teensy little thing, I'll ask my dad for some food money and will give you every cent he gives, alright?"

"Kid, that's not how an adult runs a business. Call what I gave you yesterday a 'freebie'. You're banned from the store. Good night."

Wait. "Wait" Their stride is aimed toward their silver camry. Yeah, I know a camry. Did you expect them to be riding a horse? Racist. Sage acts as though they don't hear and gets into their seat, key in ignition. One twist away before exiting the rocky parking area.

"IT SPOKE TO ME" Yup. That is how I yelled it. All caps, woke some birds up even. Just like in those Loony Toon cartoons. Is that why they're called "Loony Toons" 'cause they're loony cart----

Now they exit their car, slamming the heavy metal door. "What did you say? It...SPOKE...to you? What do you mean 'it'?"

Mhm Mhm. Just prepping my throat. "I wore it on my ankle and I heard a voice that has never existed before in the chasms----"

"Stop the theatrics"

"....Chasms of my mind. It was a male. Around your age in old-timey-ness."

"Har har."

"But it's the truth!" Why won't they believe a magical voice but insist that sage, a random plant, purifies the air?

Their chest contracts and expands in a sigh. Sage closes their eyes for a second. I could practically smell the gears turning. Need some WD-40, really. "Fine. Come by the store Saturday. That way, no one will be in to eavesdrop."

"Deal!"

"And bring actual MULA this time or else we won't have our little discussion". Crud.

"...."

"What are you thinking Sage?" No response. I paid one hundred fifty dollars for this after BEGGING both my folks (who think I'm using it to enroll in some after school sport) to slide me some cash so that I can 'better myself as an individual and actually do something with my time as well'. Lies are no good.

"Shh! Let me think, please!" Sage subverts their attention from me back onto the tarot cards laid in front of them----exactly where the bone anklet (bonklet) lay in silence

Ten minutes pass before Sage gives me the break down. "So, as I've said before. The anklet carries some heavy energy, something similar to passion and justice. Very potent stuff. That's what the spirit realm is saying, anyway. When you were---ahem--- HIGH----"

At this point I look away

"...You honed into that energy and that's why you heard the voice"

"Hm. So, how do I hone in on that energy now? Is it something I can control conscious?"

"Look, I dunno kid. Just, be safe. Meditate beforehand so that you are actually able to chime into the anklet's power source. Don't want to darken the talisman's power or anything."

"Sure, sure" I am literally out the door before Sage utters the second part of their sentence. I buzz with excitement at the opportunity and the best part is? I'm basically a super! Hoo ho. This is awesome.

There's an empty industrial facility near by Hawesome Li Cosmetics. It went bankrupt several decads ago. I'm pretty much the only one who knows about the place. Excellent ground to skate on---smooth as butter. Either way, it's empty and no harm will come to anything or anyone nearby. Any damage that I do will be to the building nearby, which no one cares about anyway. "So, it's just me and you buddy." Blunt in hand, I blaze it up. "Time for the magic to happen."

It's a slow high. The high takes as long as a flame reaching the wooden stick of an incense rod for the high to hit. Upwards of thirty minutes. So I wait. It feels like time warps. So I meditate. So I clear my thinking and reach out to the anklet.

"Mhm, Anklet, tell me who you are?"

"What?? You can hear me?"

"Yeah man. Who are you, why you speaking to me?"

"Why would I tell you? I don't even know yer name"

Tiring. It's like talking to a wall.

"Hey, I heard that!"

"Maybel. My name's Maybel. What's yours? Let's start there."

"Nat."

"Like Nat Turner? The rebel slave?"

"Don't know who that is, this 'Nat Turner'. Just knew my master gave me the name." How progressive. "So...I suspect that I'm dead."

It's not easy news. I get it. But hey, the north won. That's something, right?

"Well, I guess it is....you know, I had a name before all of this...."

"......"

"......??"

"......."

So, are you going to tell me?

"You may call me 'Asim'."

"I'll call you Ase."

Don't call me 'Ase'. Too late, Ase. Hey, how old are you anyway? 12? 11? My name is ASIM, nothing else. Fine, grumpy. ASIM. I'll call you Asim, Asim. Where'd that name come from anyway? What does it mean?

"Let's find out, shall we?"

"...It feels electric! (Boogy woogy woogy). Such power, this wade in...glory."

Are you a God?

"Blasphemy!" Then what are you? How are you able to lay such energy unto me?

Look, I don't know either, alright? But what I do know is...we're both negr---

Black. We don't say that word anymore.

"Black, then... Perhaps I'm connected with you due to our shared skin?" We stopped being related millenia ago. Millenia? Not familar with that word.

"Long, long ago. We don't share any common ancestors. It was all a lie." A lie? You don't believe in a God? I'm moreso spiritual; creation is a possibility not something I'm invested in. I believe in forces of the universe. "But not a God? So, this can't be some spiritual connection. We're too different." So perhaps a soul connection? A link between our spirits.... What else do we have in common? A slave and a black kid?

"Hatred of the white man? Wanting justice against them?"

"War. Destruction"

"Yes."

"No, I don't want that. I'd prefer peace." There may be no PEACE without WAR.

"A lie. Violence is not the answer. Kindness is."

"'Kindness' doesn't resolve problems. 'Kindness' doesn't end racism. 'KINDNESS' was the one that slept at my feet while I was lashed! "

"..."

Asim?

"..."

Andddd you're gone. Great. Well, I'm going to head back home, then. We can hang out again tomorrow. "Head back" means leave. All right, see you.

#fiction #original story #writer #writing #tumblr #writers on tumblr #BLM #Politics #Teenagedom #Teen angst #superhero #comicbook writing

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the-bounce-back · 3 years

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THE “WRITING CURE” - 3 TYPES OF JOURNALING TO IMPROVE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH

Happy New Year, guys!

Yes, it is far too late to say that… but it’s my first post of 2021 and I’ve been procrastinating hella... so please kindly cry elsewhere if this is an issue. Thanks in advance!

I hope that everyone has had a fantastic start to the year despite the fact that we’re going to be held hostage in our own homes for at least another four months.

After giving myself time to throw a fit and and a little (massive and unnecessarily dramatic) strop after hearing the news about the new lockdown and calming down a bit, I started to contemplate how different it is this time around, for better or worse. Worse in the sense that it is a) the middle of f*cking winter so we can’t even enjoy being outside and have socially distanced pIcNiCs, and b) because it literally came out of nowhere so there was zero chance to mentally prepare for it. I literally woke up from a nap, checked socials and found out that we were suddenly on lockdown… Do you realise how mad that is?

Luckily, there are some silver linings with this lockdown that I brutally force myself to focus on so I don’t lose my sh*t. One thing is that most of us probably know by now how to keep some kind of structure to our days this time - because as much as binging trash tv, being horizontal for 75% of the day, eating, chatting shit on facetime for an obscene amount of hours, bunning and going to bed at 8 am was all fun and games the first time around, chances are that you realised pretty soon that your life was literally just wasting away and you have nothing to show for it… besides bedsores, losing all muscle definition and a migraine, that is. Yes, being lazy and unproductive is needed sometimes, but eventually you’re literally gagging for something to do - and this time around you probably have something creative or work-related to do that can keep your mind preoccupied.

Additionally, this lockdown comes hand in hand with the rollout of the vaccine, meaning that the end of this nonsense is coming closer and closer. Regardless of if you’re planning on taking it or not, it still means that the emotions that are a result of isolation and lack of social interaction won’t last forever - which, for me at least, is great news and makes things feel a lot less hopeless.

However, as much as focusing on the pOsItIvEs is imperative during times like these, it’s equally as important to acknowledge and feel your feelings. This whole situation f*cking sucks, let’s be real. We miss our families, we miss our friends, we miss going out, we miss going to the gym/having the option to go to the gym and making excuses not to. We miss our old lives, and the realisation that it is going to be what feels like eons until we can get back to that is bound to get people in their feelings from time to time… or all the time. I often find myself forcing myself to stay productive and creative, only to have the thought “What’s even the point?” attack me out of nowhere, and it really kills my vibe - because sometimes I can’t even think of a decent answer.

It’s dangerously easy to fall into a slump under these circumstances, regardless of how resilient and strong you feel that you are. Forcing yourself to find structure, purpose, inspiration and motivation during this time may be extremely important, but mate... it is exhausting. There’s only so much mental energy you can use to be ray of f*cking sunshine, and once that energy runs out, replenishing it is a huge task since you can’t even do the things you usually do to feel rejuvenated - because outside is locked off.

Ok, so I’m definitely projecting. But I know that a lot of people can relate to these occasional feelings of hopelessness.

This is where I’d usually remind you that these feelings are tEmPoRaRy and will pass, but I’m not going to do that because you’re probably sick of hearing it by now. Instead, I’m going to reintroduce you all to a coping method that you’ve all probably come across in your lives already - journaling.

As in, journaling with intent. I’m personally not very big on the whole “dEaR DiArY” thing where you just whine and b*tch and complain about people/yourself (but to each their own I guess), but I’m talking about writing about topics designed to aid your healing and to help you see the bigger picture of your mental health, and life in general.

I wrote a post a couple years ago about alternatives to therapy for those that aren’t keen on talking to a stranger about their problems (if you missed it, read it here), so I thought that this post could be an elaboration on that. Seeing as a lot of us may feel disconnected and isolated from our family and friends at this moment, getting into writing about your current mindstate, emotions and worries is definitely a healthy outlet that I would recommend to anyone that doesn’t want to bottle things up, but don’t feel like they have much choice.

“But Liv! I don’t have time to write endless pages about my feelings because I’m ~*extremely busy*~!”

I thought you might say that. First of all - extremely busy during a lockdown? Stop the lies please. Secondly, I’ve found that journaling is very much like going to the gym - once you’re into it and see the benefit of it you gladly set time aside to do it. However, if you view it as a gruelling chore that you’d less rather do than all the dishes currently in your sink, it’s very easy to come up with excuses to not do it. To be fair it isn’t for everyone, so if you try it and hate it it’s not the end of the world.

“Ok, you got me. I don’t want to do it because writing is LoNg”

I think what puts people off journaling has to do with the image that pops into their head. To this day I still imagine Elle Woods writing in a pink fluffy diary with a pink fluffy pen on her bed and kicking her feet in the air - which may be appealing to some (me), but cringe to other (uncultured) people. But journaling doesn’t have to be done on fancy stationary - you can literally do it in a word doc in bullet point form, or even record voice memos if writing is sOoOo LoNg. The idea is that you should find a method that works for you, doesn’t feel like a burden and that you can incorporate into your routine.

With that being said, I know a lot of people reading this will still think of excuses to not do it, so let me just focus on those that are open minded enough to try something new chile. I’ll be covering my three favourite journaling “methods”, that have helped me stay sane, motivated and in touch with myself. They are very much focused on emotional, spiritual and mental growth, and will encourage you to think outside of the box when it comes to your mindset and attitude towards challenges that may (will) arise.

What’s important to remember is that what works for me may not work for or resonate with you in the same way, so I definitely encourage further research into journaling/journal prompts that are tailored to your needs. Let’s get it!

1. Gratitude journals.

To say that a gratitude journal - as far as journaling goes, at least - is imperative for your mental health during times like these is definitely the understatement of the century. When you wake up and find yourself still being held hostage, that your body is still in an absolute shambles despite all the useless hOmE wOrKoUtS you’re doing AND on top of everything it’s f*cking snowing, learning to see things to be grateful for amidst all the stress and frustration might seem like a very difficult task. Especially when you feel like setting the whole building on fire.

However, trust me when I say that taking a few moments each day to appreciate the little things that are getting you through it all will make you realise that things could actually be a whole lot worse, giving you a slight boost in your mood and outlook - because imagine how you’d feel if the thing/person you’re grateful for wasn’t there to help you through what can be a really sh*tty time?

On top of just feeling better about this situation on a day-to-day basis, keeping a gratitude journal can also help you keep yourself grounded, present, self aware of what matters to you and just more mindful about life in general. When there’s not a whole lot of options of things to do, it can be very easy to fall into thought patterns of either wishing time would speed up so the future can come, or reminiscing on better and happier times in the past. I wouldn’t necessarily say that there is anything wrong with this from time to time, but it’s important to remember that life is still passing you by. On top of that, considering what made a kind of crap day bearable will help you realise that many of what we consider to be “bad days” are oftentimes a direct result of a negative attitude. Yes, I am projecting with this one.

With that being said, some days are genuinely just unfathomably horrible for seemingly no justifiable reason whatsoever - regardless of if you woke up feeling like a ray of sunshine or not. Again, even when bad moods aren’t a direct result of your stank attitude, practising gratitude can give you the motivation and kick in the arse you need to just ride the day out and remember that nothing that happens is permanent or unfixable.

Then, of course, there are the days when everything just feels like a burden - including thinking about positive things. Sometimes slumps just dropkick us in the throat out of nowhere, and it’s okay to take some time to allow yourself to be pissed off, sad and depressed. Obviously everyone has their own preferred method of riding out these slumps (my personal favourite is wallowing in it until I realise that I need to get a f*cking grip), but I definitely recommend trying to find something small you’re grateful for to remind yourself that it will pass, as this knowledge can make heavy emotions slightly lighter.

In terms of frequency, it really is down to the individual. I’m lazy in the sense that I don’t want to write every day, so at the end of each week I just write about three things that made things a whole lot easier and that prevented me from wilding the f*ck out. And in terms of what you put in the journal, the sky is literally the limit. It can literally be anything that has contributed to you keeping your sanity; last week it was katsu nuggets, the neosoul playlist I came across on Spotify and the fact that I was finally able to switch from a nose stud to a nose ring that made me feel grateful. So, in other words… don’t worry about it having to be profound or meaningful in any way.

2. Positive affirmations.

I’m going to go ahead and assume that you don’t live under a rock and that you understand the meaning of the saying that words carry energy and power, and the concept of speaking things into existence. When I first read about how the words we speak to ourselves and others can transform our internal states on a deep and profound level… all I could think about was how f*cked I am, as I literally only communicate in sarcasm, and brutal drags and insults are my love languages. In my defence, my sarcasm is a coping mechanism that has completely gone off the rails - but that’s a post for another day. The point I’m trying to make is that words have extreme power, and can, when repeated often enough, alter your attitude, perception and feelings about yourself, your goals in life and your current situation - for better or for worse.

So... technically we shouldn’t even be engaging in any kind of self-deprecating humor - because our brain doesn’t actually know the difference between seriousness and sarcasm/bants. All it knows is taking words at face value. BIG yikes.

With that being said, affirmations are powerful and positive statements that aim to direct your conscious and subconscious mind, as well as challenge unhealthy, negative and self-deprecating thinking patterns you might currently be engaging in. They can also influence your subconscious mind to access new beliefs - hence why saying them out loud and with intent on a regular basis is considered crucial for them to actually work. By intent I basically mean speaking your affirmations with conviction, like they are already true - regardless of how far away from them being true you may feel that you are.

In terms of writing positive affirmations that genuinely work, there are many different formats and methods out there that can be adjusted to the individual. I personally utilise a 3 step method that has been working well-ish for me so far - it’s still early days, but it’s definitely a positive habit that I’m trying my best to continue. The 3 steps are as follows:

1, Listing your perceived negative features.

Notice how I say “perceived negative features” as opposed to just “negative features”. This is important because more often than not, the things we are insecure about or don’t like about ourselves are only truly noticeable to us.

These features can literally be anything negative that has stuck with you over the years, regardless of if it’s a product of your own conclusions/internal critic or criticism/negative feedback from an external source. Usually they focus on your perception of yourself as a person, how you cope with life or the current situation you are in (e.g. home-/work-life, relationships etc).

The purpose of writing down things you don’t like about yourself isn’t to make you feel like sh*t, I promise. It’s to help you identify recurring themes in your insecurities, and to help you understand where these perceptions even came from in the first place.

2. Rephrasing your perceived negative features as a positive affirmation.

In this step, the aim is to find positive antonyms to the negative features you have listed. It’s important that the words you choose carry weight and resonate with you on an emotional level, while also feeling believable and attainable to you. This, because if you’re anything like me you’ll feel like you’re just lying to yourself if the affirmation is too over the top… which kind of defeats the purpose.

For clarity, here are a few of my perceived negative features (in the past), what they allude to and the affirmations I wrote for them:

- I worry too much about what other people will think about what I do, what I say, choices I make etc (fear of not being accepted/being talked about negatively) —> “I am feeling more empowered and self-assured as I release the need to care about others’ opinions”

- I’m too naive and keep letting people that don’t have my best interest at heart take advantage of my kindness (fear of disappointing people, fear of abandonment) —> “I am a kind, empathetic, loving person, and I am not at fault for showing kindness to people that didn’t deserve it”

- I hate the way my body is built and I constantly feel unattractive (low self esteem/confidence, body dysmorphia) —> “my body is beautiful, built exactly as it was meant to be, does all it can to ensure that I am strong and healthy and is immune to both internal and external criticism”.

3. Repeating your affirmations regularly.

This is where the ~*magic*~ happens. Yes, I am aware that telling yourself that you are that b*tch while looking into your own eyes in the mirror sounds very cringe and very coming-of-age-Netflix-original-for-tweens like. I can’t lie, it was in the beginning and I felt absolutely ridiculous… especially because a lot of my affirmations didn’t reflect how I felt about myself at the time. But as you incorporate repeating your affirmations into your daily routine, you’ll eventually start to feel a shift in your mindset towards yourself. The words you speak begin to chip away at the self-doubt and self-hate that you’ve built up over the course of your life, and you feel like you actually are stating facts instead of just trying to convince yourself.

Besides forcing myself to speak my affirmations out loud on a daily basis - regardless of how I’m feeling - I also make an effort to review them every couple of weeks to make sure that they are still relevant to how I feel about myself. Ideally, over time you’ll realise that the affirmations you made in the past confirm what you have always known deep down - that you are more than enough exactly as you are.

3. Shadow work.

Ok, so this sounds very dramatic, scary and ominous - and can’t lie, it can be if you allow yourself to be afraid of facing certain parts of yourself. In very brief terms, shadow work refers to the uncovering, processing and healing of different aspects of our “shadow” - which is essentially all the thoughts, emotions and behaviours we suppress and hide away in order to be perceived as “normal” by others around us. This might not seem like a problem, but the issue here is that the concept of “normality” and what is considered to be “normal” is in itself deeply rooted in the individuals past experiences, and especially childhood. For example, a person that grew up in an environment where expressing emotions and vulnerability/sensitivity was seen as a weakness may have problems with expressing their emotions as adults - since they have been conditioned to believe that emotions are a weakness, and are meant to be hidden away in order to be accepted.

As you can probably imagine, going through life with these false truths ingrained in your mind have a tendency to eventually come to the surface in some way in the future. Constantly feeling like you are restraining certain parts of yourself - regardless of if you’re aware of this or not - can manifest as issues such as mental and physical illness, feelings of low self-worth/esteem, addictions and many others issues that affect our life quality severely. These repressed aspects of ourselves are referred to as our “shadow selves”, and if we don’t “bring light” to the shadow - i.e. face the qualities we have that we have held back for so long - it can truly hold us back from reaching our full potential in life.

With that being said, shadow work encourages you to force yourself out of denial about certain aspects of yourself, accepting it, and working on unpacking and bettering those aspects without judgment from your ego. I personally struggled a lot in the beginning of my shadow work jOuRnEy because it was infinitely easier to think of myself as a victim of others doings, rather than a combination of other people’s actions and how my ego and shadow self chose to react… if that makes any sense. I used to hate doing shadow work, because I felt so ashamed and angry at myself for allowing my ego to be distorted by lies and other peoples’ projections for so long.

However, when these feelings arise and you feel like quitting - because WHY should healing be so f*cking painful - it’s actually a sign that you are headed in the right direction. Messed up, I know. But over time, you’ll become so used to sitting with your negative feelings towards yourself that they don’t even really phase you anymore, and you can admit that your shadow self and ego has caused you to form unhealthy habits and thinking patterns that can be detrimental to your mental health. Over time, you’ll develop a great sense of self awareness and self compassion, as well as great psychological, emotional and interpersonal maturity.

Trust me. Being able to admit and accept that you are flawed without being harsh on or hating yourself is a BIG flex, and makes you unf*ckwittable. I actually dare someone to come and drag me for something I haven’t already dragged and forgiven myself for, because I haven’t had a good laugh in a while.

So, the bottom line with shadow work isn’t to bring light to your flaws to feel like shit about yourself (although you definitely will). The point is to bring said flaws to the surface, understand where they stem from, consider why and how it has affected you, and becoming aware of your triggers. Setting time aside a certain time each week to do this work and understand yourself on a deeper level gives you power over your ego, shadow self and triggers, because doing the work helps you see and understand that they don’t really have power over you unless you let them.

In terms of format, I really just do whatever feels right when it’s shadow work o’clock. If I’ve had a particularly sh*tty week and can assign the blame to one of my shadow aspects, I literally just freestyle and write whatever comes to mind (my journal has SUFFERED this lockdown, honey). If nothing comes to mind, I like to make use of journal prompts that are designed to get you thinking and reflecting. I literally just get them online because I’m lazy, but here are some good ones to get you started:

- How judged do you feel on a daily basis? How much of said judgement is real and how much is imagined?

- What does it feel like to have your emotions belittled and downplayed?

- What has fear held you back from? Do you blame yourself or others?

- In what ways are you inauthentic?

As you can see, these prompts do not f*ck about. They’re going to get you in your feelings, make you feel weak and vulnerable and cry like a little b*tch, if you’re anything like me - not that there’s anything wrong with that! But the best part is that once you’ve finished writing, sat with all your negative emotions, accepted them and decided you are ready to move forward and heal, your triggers become less and less powerful - until the day comes when they’ve dissolved completely.

So, there you have it - three tools to help maximise your inner connection to your mental, physical, spiritual and overall wellbeing. As previously mentioned, there are tonnes more different journaling methods that can trigger a positive change in your mental health, and I definitely recommend looking into this and trying them out… wHeN yOu HaVe ThE tImE.

On that note, I want to reiterate that journaling shouldn’t be feeling like a time-consuming burden that you have to put a gun to your head to do every time - because brutally forcing yourself to do it is just going to make you feel sh*tty when you don’t/can’t/won’t follow through. It’s all about finding a time during the day, week or month (whatever frequency is best for you) that you set aside to really get in touch with and sit with your feelings. At the end of the day, it truly is a commitment that you make to yourself - and only you can decide how seriously you want to take this commitment. I will say this though - being inconsistent, procrastinating, skipping or making excuses to not do it only leads to distrust of the self. And If you can’t show up for yourself, how can you expect others to show up for you?

Check me out, leaving you all with food for thought and sh*t (and like I haven’t been ignoring the deadlines I’ve been setting for myself for weeks. Hypocrisy is and always will be my favourite pastime!). It’s giving Eckhart Tolle and I love it. The bottom line is that journaling can be a very powerful tool in your healing process, and it’s up to you to make it work for you.

Until next time!

Love,

Liv

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jungwooisms · 4 years

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pairing: kim jungwoo x female!reader genre: short story, fluff warnings: minor swearing, alcohol word count: 7.5k summary: he’s something of an elusive creature to you and the handful of other people looking for him. kim jungwoo finds you, or maybe it’s the other way around, and there’s more to him than you originally thought.

Monday. It isn’t a question of whether you hate your job or love it, it is a question of how well your manager is feeling this particular day and how it will affect you. You love your job. Love history and seeing the faces of those it inspired. Although after hearing the news that a piece of art, a sculpture, a piece from the early Silla dynasty, had broken in transport from its southern home you know this would be one of the more trying days at work. The news will enrage your boss, you just know it will. It’s only a hairline fracture along the spine of the thing and would have to undergo a minor restoration process. Nothing big but Taeil was expecting to have it on display within the week.

Lost in thought you barely notice the man walking beside you, waving his hand in front of your face as he tries to get your attention. Stoping in your tracks as he takes one, two steps and comes to a halt as well. “Can I help you?” Question forming as politely as you can.

“Yes actually,” a soft smile and a quiet voice, “I’m looking for the ‘In Still Life’ workshop but I can’t seem to find the classroom?” After he runs a hand through his gingery locks he buries his hands in his pockets as his eyes widen, “You do work here right? I didn’t mean to assume anything-”

“It’s right down this hallway, you’ll see the sign for Naji after you pass the entrance to the Gohyang exhibit,” Offering him a simple smile in return, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

The man stands in thought, as if he’s truly contemplating asking you one of the world’s most important questions. Shoulders shrugging you now notice the poster tube slung across his back. “I think that’s all for now,” A short bow and the same smile he thanks you and hurries off on his way.

It wasn’t odd to get someone to ask you for directions, hell it was a part of your job. At least it had been at one point, you’d moved up several positions since your time on the exhibit floors. Normally the guests would act a little more flustered and have a map fumbling in their hands as they tried to decipher the tiny script. Yet this guy seemed more confident, more aware of his surroundings in a sense? You have little time to ponder on it though as you’re now rapidly approaching Taeil’s office tucked away in the bowels of the museum. A gentle knock from you and a ‘Come in’ from the other side announces your entrance.

“There you are,” Taeil notes, “What news from Busan?” The glimmer of a smirk in his voice, maybe he is the closet Austen fan you think him to be.

Moving to the file cabinet beside the door you begin to flip through the documents, looking for the one detailing the shipment. You’d left it in here last night, hoping that he’d had read it before you came in so you wouldn’t be the one to break the news to him. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

Sigh echoing the cramped space, you promised him to spend a weekend clearing the room out and organizing yet you hadn’t found the time. “Bad then good,” faltering at the end of the sentence before he raises his hand, “Actually, good then bad.”

“The shipment from Busan arrived yesterday with no delay!” Cheerily turning to him, but the dark cloud of doubt was already looming over him. “But,” Elongating your words as you try and figure out what to say next, “it seems as if the statue from one of the castle digs was damaged in the process.”

“Damaged?” Eyebrow perking, “How bad is it?”

“Nothing more than a hairline fracture,” Hands raised to assure him it probably isn’t as bad as he’s imagining it. “I’ve got Doyoung working on it right now.”

“Now that makes me even more nervous, does he have that intern with him right now? The one that almost ruined one of the Dissonance pieces?”

Thoughts ruminating, “Jeno? He’s a kid, I can’t say I was any better at his age.” You grab one of the files, figuring you better stop procrastinating at some point.

“You were at least less clumsy- You know what, forget about it, it’s being fixed.” Fingers brought to his temples, Taeil sighs. Hands moving now to pinch the bridge of his nose while he looks over the scatter of thin paper on his desk, scanning for something. For what exactly, you weren’t sure. “I can’t get a hold of him.”

“Who?” After a pause you speak up, figuring the question poised wasn’t rhetorical.

“The damned architect,” Drumming his now free fingers on the desk impatiently. “Jungwoo Kim. His office line goes straight to voicemail and I’m not even sure the man has a phone. The plans for remodeling need to be approved of by the patrons by the end of this week, I have nothing to hand into them.” Your boss sounds exasperated, and rightfully so. “The office of affairs had been pestering to get this architect to plan the remodeling, something about him being a big shot overseas and thought it could bring in a new wave of tourism because his name would be latched onto the project. A gross misunderstanding on our part.”

Fingers tightening on the file in your hand you bite the inside of your cheek, “What do we do then? Let it fall through and find someone else?”

“I’d love to tell you to go out and find him but we have other things to worry about, besides only a handful of people have ever claimed to see him and I’ve never seen a picture,” Hand waving, Taeil stands and begins to move to the door. “Did you contact the MoMA and ask about their extension? We’ll need a few of those pieces back for the state dinner coming up.”

Long strides through the doorway as you spin and rush to keep up, “I’ve emailed them but they’re almost twelve hours ahead of us, I’d expect a response no later than nine o’clock tonight.” Thoughts jumbled as you hopefully remembered to include every artifact you needed returned from your lended collection to the New York museum. “Where are we going, exactly?”

“It’s the second Monday of the month.” Taeil mentions it casually enough you could’ve brushed it off. It’s when you freeze in your tracks that your manager looks back at you, “Want me to take the first round? I’ll tap out around lunch and let you take the rest.”

How you could’ve forgotten the weekly meetings with various exhibitors and patrons escapes you, granted, it had been a long weekend. “That’d be great, thank you Taeil.”

Already making his way towards the conference room at the end of the hall he waves back at you, “You owe me a coffee once I’m out of there.”

After offering him a solitary nod you turn on your heels and begin to head back to your office. Whether it was an office you debated on, it was a little larger than a janitors closet but it was a place to call your own. You sit at your desk and finally open the file you’d been holding onto since you were standing in Taeil’s office. It was some request from an international art museum in Shanghai, offering to display an exhibit at their gallery if SeMFA would host one of their own. A quick search of the institute, you find it’s somewhat renowned in the area and had some interesting pieces. Once giving the file a quick stamp, you move it to the side of your desk for a higher-up review, hand moving to stifle a yawn you knew this was going to be a long Monday.

It’s 1:30, there’s a noticeable shift of light since your earlier stroll through the gallery when you came in that morning. Hands holding two cups of coffee you quicken your pace as you approach the conference room, Taeil leaning against the wall coming into view as you near. “Was it that bad?” Offering him one of the cups in your hand once you were within reasonable distance.

“Worse,” Sighing he takes one of the paper cups and puts it to his lips, “we work for madmen with money, I hope you know.” He doesn’t let you reply before he speaks again, “No one’s gotten word from that architect and I can’t wait to tell them ‘I told you so’ on Friday. Not that it’ll do much.”

“They haven’t offered an alternative?” You question as he drinks, taking a step closer towards the door to the conference room, dreading the next few hours already.

“Nope,” Pushing himself off the wall, “Do me a favor and look into some architects within our reach after you’re out of that hellhole. I’m heading out to one of the other branches today so you’ll have to lock up.”

Now you were dreading it even more, “Whatever you say boss, I’ve left a few files that need review on your desk. It’s alright if you don’t get to them today though.”

“Will do,” He’s already halfway down the hallway, “If I don’t see you again today I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that he’s off with a wave and you slink your way into the conference room to take a seat among a few other museum employees and some of the donors. The meeting itself isn’t awful, but it drags on and on and a few prominent voices of the meeting are akin to nails on a chalkboard with their incessant droning. You take the time that the patrons are talking about allocating different amounts of money for different exhibits to look up local architects to contact. Thumbing through their works on your phone you think there’s a few candidates among the roster, assuming they’re available. You scribble some of the names down on a nearby notepad and return your attention back to the meeting.

Several hours later you emerge from the conference room, more mentally exhausted than you had ever thought possible. Notepad in hand you begin to head to your office, glancing around at the museum’s visitors as you pass. The winding route to Taeil’s office feels even longer than you thought possible, a knock on his door and no answer tells you that he’s already left for the day, so he really had settled on you locking up. A shake of your head as you turn on your heels and walk back to your office, making sure to walk of the balls of your feet as your shoes had been digging into your ankle for the past hour or so.

You’re leaning back in your chair, most of the work you’d been assigned to do has been emailed off or stapled or whatever else needed to be done to it. There’s a dull resounding in your head as your hands move to your temples to stave off a minor headache. It’s when you’re about to leave for the night that your phone buzzes from atop a file of neatly stacked papers that you glance over to read the text illuminating the screen.

[Doyoung:] Jeno thinks he saw someone in the East Wing when we were heading out for the night, maybe a guest? Mind checking it out for us?

A sigh, normally guests would leave on time but every once in awhile you got a straggler who would take their precious time to idle through the galleries. You shoot Doyoung a text saying that you’d be on it. After gathering the materials you needed to take home you make your way out of the office and towards the museum’s East Wing. And no surprise there is someone there, back turned to you as they sit on a bench in the middle of the room, looking up at one of the larger pieces of art in the area. As you approach notice a familiar poster tube, it was the guy from earlier in the morning. Was he here the whole day?

“Excuse me,” You say softly, trying to get his attention as you approach quietly.

You’re not sure how high he jumps, but it felt like five feet. A short yelp and he turns to face you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you coming.”

“Oh no no, I’m sorry for scaring you,” Hand over your heart you’re startled at his reaction alone. “I’m just here to tell you that the museum is closing in a few minutes, I’m just making the rounds to make sure everyone’s heading out.”

“Ah, is it?” The man frowns as he stands, “I was hoping to spend a little while longer here, I guess I’ll have to come back tomorrow.” Hands moving to adjust the strap across his chest. “It’s fine by the way, I get scared pretty easily,” He offers you a smile, “Which way’s the exit?”

“It’s this way,” Hand motioning towards the front of the museum, “I can show you.”

“There’s no need for you to do that,” He laughs.

“It’s fine,” You nod with a smile, “I’m actually on my way out as well.”

“I see,” it was now his turn to nod and gesture forward, “Lead the way then.”

The two of you walk in silence for a moment, your shoes, as well as his, clicking on the granite floor tiles of the main atrium. You, trying to make small talk, break the quiet, “How did you like the art class? You were heading there this morning, weren’t you?”

Thinking on it for a moment, “It was nice, I stayed afterwards just to take a look around but I guess I lost track of time.”

As you pass by one of the Corinthian columns aligning the halls you stretch your hand out to run your fingers along its ridges. “That happens every so often, I know I’ve done it before.”

“Really?” Genuine amusement dances along his cheeks as he glances over to the paper in your hands, “What’s that?” Something about his demeanor told you he was an inquisitive sort, something puerile and innocent about his gaiety.

“It’s a list of names,” Eyes looking down for a moment, scanning the list. “We’re actually having the East Wing remodeled soon, this is a list of architects we’re thinking of asking to take over the design process.”

It’s only for a short second but you think you see his brow begin to furrow, “Take over? Does that mean you already had someone in mind?” Expression turned inquisitive once more, the glimmer of concern leaving him almost as soon as it had arrived.

A quick nod, “We did but we can’t get a hold of him, we’re not sure if he’s even started on a plan.” Shoulders shrugging as you reach the entrance of the museum, you look towards the security area and shoot the guard a thumbs up as you and your new acquaintance walk out of the front door. “We open at eight tomorrow if you do really want to come back.”

“I think I will,” The man smiles, “I also think I know someone who might be interested in the job, would you mind if I passed along your information?”

Quizzical for a moment, you pause. “Oh,” You begin to rummage through your bag with your free hand, searching for a business card. “Of course,” handing over the card, he takes it gingerly and holds it up to get better lighting from the streetlamp above.

“Junior collections archivist,” Squinting eyes as he tries to read out your title, “That’s quite the job.”

“It pays the bills,” A short smile and a shrug of your shoulders, “Kind of. But I enjoy it.” And you did, it wasn’t an issue of monetary fulfillment, but of personal satisfaction when it came to you choosing your career path.

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” He smiles, offering his hand out once he’d tucked your business card into his back pocket. “My name’s Jungwoo Kim.”

That name sounds familiar, it isn’t until you introduced yourself and he’d said his thanks and that he’d be back tomorrow that it hit you. Jungwoo Kim? The architect that Taeil and you had been searching for? Maybe it was someone with the same name, but you couldn’t be sure, besides, you could always ask him about it the next time you saw him.

Tuesday. The next time you see him he’s strolling through the main entrance, shoes gently clicking on the floor to signal his arrival into the building; you’re up at the front checking on the new additions to the display of the museum’s gift shop. You almost drop the faux jade necklace in your hands as he gives you a short wave, your hand raises to greet him back and you mouth the words ‘Can we talk?’ to which he gives you a short nod. Once the mannequin was to your liking you quickly stride over to the taller man, poster tube slung around his shoulders once again.

“Good morning,” Jungwoo smiles and glances to the front of the shop “That’s a pretty impressive display you’ve got.”

“Yeah, it’s in preparation for a new exhibit we’ve got going on. It’s an expose piece on how royal pieces of pottery and statues differed in each of the three kingdoms-” Beginning to run on, you’re almost lost in thought about the new layout you’ve got planned for the addition when you realize that it’s Jungwoo Kim in front of you. Hesitating mid-sentence, you change the topic, “You’re not the Jungwoo Kim right? The one that’s supposed to be mapping out the redesign of the East Wing, are you?”

The man shifts his weight from foot to foot, raising a hand to his chin in thought. “That’s me,” Answer coming after an eternity of review.

“It’s… you,” reality seeming warped as you take in the unassuming character in front of you. Admittedly he wasn’t what you’d imagined him to be, yet the man never had a photo taken and hardly ever interviewed. You’d heard rumors of how quiet and reclusive he’d been from the donors at the meeting yesterday, not even meeting with them when they’d proposed the project to him in the first place, he’d sent an aid instead. It’s not that he was unpleasant to look at, just not your expectation of some grizzly, haggard man too grouchy to face his customers. “Why haven’t you called? Or messaged back? The museum’s been trying to reach you for weeks.”

“I know,” He sighs as his attention is pulled away from the display case and back to you. There’s a tone of distress as he speaks again, “They’re really impatient, aren’t they?”

Any thoughts of it being a big misunderstanding gone, you stand there dumbfounded for a moment. “Are you here to meet with them?” A shake of his head indicating that he wasn’t. “Then why are you here Mr. Kim?” Your hands shift nervously at your sides, unknowing what his reasoning is.

“Research.” He says it as if it’s the most obvious answer, “And please call me Jungwoo, I hate formalities.” A smile bright enough to distract you momentarily from the conundrum at hand.

“Research?” Wringing hands, a nervous habit you realize and slide them into your pants pockets. “You know Mr— ” You force yourself to stop, correcting yourself, “Jungwoo, if my senior knew you were here, you’d be hounded to death.”

The blood drains out of his face as his eyes widen, “You’re not going to tell him I’m here, are you?” His hand nervously fidgets with the strap of his bag, toying with a flyaway string poking out from the seams.

Obvious enough he didn’t want to be found out you shake your head, “No, I’m not.” Your hand raises to tuck a flyaway strand of hair away from your lips as you think, “What kind of research are you here to do, exactly?”

“Well,” His foot taps lightly on the ground as his eyes wander up to the skylight above, wincing ever so slightly at the harsh glare of the sun reflecting off of the glass. “If I’m going to remodel the East Wing I thought I should at least see it first.” Jungwoo’s shoulders shrugging as he runs a nervous hand through his hair.

Your eyes widen, “You’re still going to do the project?”

“If they’ll let me,” He nods, hand returning to the strap on the poster tube. “You haven’t found anyone else, have you?”

A mental note to yourself that you’d have to tear up that list of names later on, “We haven’t. Do you think you’ll have your outlines in by Friday?”

“That’s the thing I wanted to ask you about,” A nervous laugh, “I kind of need some more time on drafting. Do you think you could relay that to your bosses?”

“Relay what?” A voice rings out beside the two of you, both you and Jungwoo take an instinctive hop back as you turn and find yourself face to face with Taeil.

If your eyes could open in shock any more you’d think they’d pop out of your head, a la Loony Tunes, but you found restraint enough to calm yourself. “I was just talking to this guest,” you glance to Jungwoo, who looks like he’s simultaneously going to die of a heart attack and throw up, “he was curious if the rate for membership was going to rise next year. And since that’s not really my department I was going to refer him to the front desk.”

Taeil hums for a moment in thought as he looks over to Jungwoo, “They shouldn’t, at least I’m not aware of any change.”

“That’s wonderful,” The taller’s voice is small, had Taeil not been so oblivious he just might have begun to suspect something. “Well I guess I’ll get going then,” Jungwoo offers a smile before spinning on his heels and quickly walking into the exhibit hall, you try not to laugh at how robotic he looks.

“That was weird,” musing under his breath as Taeil focuses back to you, “Anyway, have you heard any more about that sculpture?”

A nod, “Doyoung’s working on it today, it’ll probably be finished either tomorrow or Friday.” Taeil begins walking away from the atrium as the two of you talk, you lengthening your strides to keep pace with his speed. “I’ll check in on it again tomorrow.”

Thursday. “You should have seen his face Doyoung,” You laugh, leaning yourself against the doorframe of the conservationist’s office. Office may be too humble a word to describe the large room where artifacts not on display, or those that were damaged, are stored. “Taeil’s head looked like it was going to explode when I told him we got an email from the architect two days before the deadline.” While it may be a small white lie in regards to the method of communication, it was hilarious nonetheless.

“I’m just shocked it took that long to get a response, we’d been trying forever to get him to reply, right?” Doyoung’s hunched over a table, standing over a relic as he inspected it with careful eyes. You weren’t sure what it was for but he seemed pretty invested into it.

You nod, taking a step into the room, trying to take a closer look at the cloth the other was observing. “Better late than never, I guess.”

“I don’t know how much I’d trust a guy who’s left us hanging for so long, but if everyone’s willing to wait a while longer for him to throw something together I guess I can’t have too much of an opinion on the matter,” A shift in his seat as he talks, speaking slowly as you know his attention isn’t fully focused on your conversation.

You’re about to speak again when there’s a quiet cough behind you, “Mind if I get by?” Looking over your shoulder you’re met with Doyoung’s bright-eyed assistant. He’s holding a tray of coffee cups from a nearby shop, a warm smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Of course,” You nod and step out of the doorway, shooting a look to Doyoung as his intern wasn’t meant to be a coffee runner, more so he was supposed to be tryin to get involved with actual conservation efforts for his university research.

Jeno brushes past you, careful to make sure he’s holding the coffee the farthest point away from Doyoung’s work station as he can. He places it down atop a desk nearby, a small paper sign attached to it reading ‘Jeno’s Coffee Station’. You wonder how it’d acquired that name, but before you can think too much on it the younger speaks up once more, “Doyoung said you’d be stopping by so I got you a coffee too.” Jeno motions you over, “I’m not supposed to be within five feet of him while he’s working and I have coffee.”

“Is that your rule or his?” You question, walking over and taking the cup from him, opening the lid so the contents could cool faster.

“Taeil’s actually,” Doyoung interjects, shutting off the overhead lamp above him and strolling over to the two of you.

“Of course it is,” You laugh as Jeno hands Doyoung his tea. “How’s that piece I sent in on Monday coming along?”

A sip of his tea and a recoil at its burning temperature, “”It’s finished. I put it in the storage area for the exhibit this morning,

Monday. “I haven’t seen your boyfriend lately,” Taeil’s fingers race across his keyboard, the satisfying clicks from the mechanical keys pinging around the room as you sit in the chair in front of him. You’re midway through reading an article on your phone about a new discovery in the highlands of Scotland when you nearly drop the device from your grasp.

“My what?” Voice sounding almost as equally confused as you look you quirk an eyebrow at him.

“Your boyfriend,” A glance over to you from the top of his monitor.“The one that’s here almost every day?”

“He’s not my-”

“You’re insane if you don’t think I see right through you, I may be blind,” An adjustment of his glasses that had begun to slip down the bridge of his nose, “but I’m not stupid.” Rather proud of himself he continues to sift through the emails on his computer as you shake your head in disbelief.

Wednesday. “Can you come home with me?” The question, innocent in nature to him but an abrupt stop to your cognitive thinking, falling from his lips like honey. Doors of the museum shut behind you, the night is silent, other than the crickets beginning to chirp from the bushes that lined the entranceway.

“I,” hesitant to respond you look at him, gauging what he was seeking out, albeit it wasn’t difficult to ascertain that he wasn’t looking for something lecherous or anything of the sort in your company. That wasn’t the sort of vibe he put out. “I have work tomorrow.”

Jungwoo had come to the museum once again today. On the off occasion that you did walk by the East Wing you would catch him in different spots, scribbling something down into a notepad in his hand or taking pictures of the walls, floor, or ceiling rather than the artwork decorating the space. You didn’t speak to him every time that you saw him, maybe exchanging a small wave or smile in passing. You could probably count on two hands the times that you’d talked too, albeit it was understandable as you didn’t want to distract him from his work or draw any attention to him.

“I’ve got a few drafts of the design but I’m not too sure how they look,” Hands in his pockets as he looks at you with an almost puppy-dog-esqe pout. “I wanted a second opinion on them.”

“The museum’s closed on Saturday, did you want to grab dinner Friday night and talk about it then?”

“Sure,” he smiles, “I’d really appreciate it.”

Friday. You wait for the skip. You always wait for the skip. Soft scratch atop the vinyl disc, you hadn’t meant to damage it. But it was your first album, your first time pulling out your parent’s seemingly ancient record player and trying to elicit music from the black lines. In your haste to drop the needle you slid it across the record, damaging a song you’d yet to hear. More than disheartened you eventually get the music to play, the marred clip of Norwegian Wood becoming more interred into your heart than the digital version. It was uniquely yours and only a select few got to share that skip with you.

That scratch happened eons ago, on a different record player in your follies of youth. Wherever you went though, it seemed to follow. Even now as you sit on the plush, faux fur carpet of your living room it plays, very nearly scaring Jungwoo to death the first time the needle skips over John Lennon’s grainy vocals. The wine glass, already teetering in his hand after perhaps one drink too many, lets loose a drop or two of the 2017 vintage of Sauvignon Blanc onto the cushion of your couch. You don’t mind, it’s white wine anyway.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes, setting the glass onto your coffee-table as he tries to dry the spots with the sleeve of his sweater. Cheeks rosy he offers a contrite smile as you wave it off.

“Don’t worry about it,” You sip from your glass, running the liquid over your tongue as you try and discern the different notes in the wine. It’s no surprise that you can’t, you’d never been much of a wine connoisseur, if anything you drink it for the fuzzy feeling it gives you. “Besides, I should’ve warned you about it, it’s been like that for a while.”

The pair of you had met up earlier in the evening, you’d left work early and met Jungwoo at a small Italian joint a few blocks away from the museum. A quaint, intimate affair you soon realized that spreading out sheets of grid paper along the wooded floor of the restaurant wouldn’t be the most optimal, or courteous, thing to do, you suggest heading to your apartment. It lay only a few streets over and you didn’t want to invite yourself to his place. So, a cracked open bottle of wine, strewn out sheets of paper and a skipping record later, you find yourself in the company in one of the most prized architects in the game.

Your fingers twist around the thin stem of your glass as you swirl the liquid. “What made you want to become an architect?” Question raising itself as you look to Jungwoo, who’d settled back quite comfortably into your loveseat.

His eyes close as his head falls back, a gentle hum arising from his throat before he sits up, seemingly piecing his thoughts together.

“When I was a kid my family took me to Japan, not to Tokyo or Osaka or any other major city. They took me to this small island off the coast of the southern part of the main island, somewhere near Okayama, it’s called Naoshima.” You’re leaning in closer as he speaks, threads of passion sewing itself into his words as he recalls the memory, “Anyway, this architect, Tadao Ando, had designed a museum on the island, nestled away into the wild. There was this strange calmness that hung over the building, it wasn’t because of the art, it was because of the architecture.” Glass set atop the coffee table you scoot yourself closer, “I want to make something as remarkable as that, something that can move a person without words, something inspiring. I’m not doing Ando any justice though, you really need to go there to see it. I’ve never been great with my words,” A clumsy smile painting itself on his face as he reaches for his wine glass, bringing it to his lips and taking a drink.

“I wouldn’t put yourself down like that,” Shaking your head you push yourself off of the group, dizzily tiptoeing around the paper on the floor so that you move to the couch, plopping down beside Jungwoo. “I can tell it’s something you’re passionate about. Hell, people are lining up to get you to design something.” He gives a short laugh as you shift on the cushion. “But why are you so reluctant to go public? I’d think a young, handsome face would only be good for business, wouldn’t it?”

Glass pulled away, it sits in his hands as he stares down the empty cup. His eyes look glassy, and you feel somewhat guilty for prying. “I just feel like it would detract away from the feel of it all. Besides, it’s a little more unique to go with ‘oh they mysterious architect Kim Jungwoo designed this’ rather than ‘oh that twenty-something year old Kim Jungwoo did this’.” He laughs, “Thanks for calling me handsome though.”

You hope the your already staggered movements hide your embarrassment well, you lift your own glass and bring it to your lips, muttering “It was just a general observation,” before drinking.

“I’ve never been one for the limelight, I’d rather just put out my work and leave it at that.” Clink atop the table as his glass is set down, he turns to you, leaning so his elbow rests atop the back pillow and his hand lay under his chin. “What about you? What made you want to become the junior collections archivist at a prestigious museum?”

“You say prestigious like it’s a bad thing,” musing as you turn to face him, eyebrow raised.

“Not bad, it’s actually a great place to be for someone right out of school.” Jungwoo notes, nodding his head in his drunken stupor.

“How flattering,” You chuckle at his demeanor. It didn’t seem like his tolerance was very high. “I’ve always been a fan of museums, the collective history of the world in one place, how can you not love that? It’s a great place to work, the people are nice, it’s a beautiful environment and it’s amazing to watch peoples faces light up as they learn history.” You find yourself mirroring Jungwoo’s position, “It’s just doesn’t have a lot of room for any social interaction outside of it.”

Even before your induction into the archival field you hadn’t really been the type to have a large circle of friends. Hell one of the only people you still talked to from you high school and college years was Doyoung, and that was largely in part of him being a coworker. But even beyond friendship you never actively sought out romantic partnership, if they happened they happened but you always found yourself drift out of them, too engrossed in your studies or hobbies to squeeze in time. Then again if you had gone to a museum or something of the like on a date you’d be too invested in the art pieces to notice their subtle attempts to try and woo you. You didn’t mind, you were young and had a whole life ahead of you, but every so often you thought that maybe the companionship of another didn't sound as horrific as you pictured it sometimes. Maybe you should start off with a cat or dog first.

“You don’t have a lot of friends?” Jungwoo asks, it's almost as if he sounds worried.

“I’ve got a few close ones,” You shake your head, “What about you, Mr. Recluse?”

“You know Nakamoto Yuta?”

It takes a while, you’ve definitely heard the name before, but again your circle wasn’t large nor your repertoire of names of people you’ve never met. Snapping your fingers as you finally come up with it, “The guy who plays for Ulsan?”

“That’s the one.” Jungwoo nods, excited that you know who he’s talking about.

“What about him?” Wait, “Don’t tell me you know him?” Eyes widening as you lean backwards in surprise.

“We played soccer in high school together,” It’s a faux bragging tone, plain as day, but it was soon quelled by what he said next, “He’d always beat me in scrims though. We still keep in touch.”

“No shit, really? That’s amazing.” Glancing away from his for a moment, the dizzying vertigo of intoxication subsiding ever so slightly you notice the two empty glasses. “Did you want more wine?”

“Actually,” he uses his elbow to push himself up into a straight sitting position, moving his arms as you notice his shoulder blades moving underneath his thin sweater as he stretches. “It’s getting pretty late, I should probably be going.”

Looking at your clock across the room you were surprised to see it’s a little bit past midnight, had the two of you been talking for that long? “I didn’t even realize,” You say, lifting yourself from the couch and taking the glasses from the table. “Let me help you,” words slightly slurred after you place the glasses into your kitchen sink and you walk back into your living room to find Jungwoo carefully rolling his papers to put into his infamous poster tube.

“That’s alright,” he smiles up at you as he begins to roll the last one, “Do you really like the designs?”

A nod as you hear the lid of the poster tube pop open, careful hands sliding the paper inside, “I do.” Another smile as he stands, fitting the lid onto the top of the tube. The two of you walk to the front door, giving your goodbyes and thanks, it’s when you’re about to close the door on his that he speaks up,

“Can I see you again?” Flushed face looking more sober as he turns back to the doorway, his eyes are bright as he looks at you as he stands in the dimly lit hallway. Hands shoved in his pockets he searches for his words, “Not in a work setting, if you’re interested?”

“I’d like that,” You smile, leaning ever so slightly against the door, your cheeks burning.

“I’ll call you to try and figure out a time and date that works?” He’s spun on his heels now, heading towards the elevator, yet still looking back at you as he does.

“Well,” Hand toying with the cool metal handle of your door as you call out after him, “You know where to find me.”

Sunday. The applause had been thunderous, echoing around the enclosed space of the East Wing for what felt like hours. Overall the design that Jungwoo had sent in was marveled at, both patrons and museum employees excited to have the architect’s name now attached to the building process. Taeil, still incredulous that you had managed to pull through, offers you a celebratory glass of champagne as you make your way through the hall. There was some strange sense of irony in hosting the reveal in the space it would soon overtake, but you didn’t think on it too much.

“Don’t have too much fun, we begin packing this up tomorrow morning,” Taeil reminds you with a sigh, leaning against the wall as he downs his own drink.

A sigh as you take a sip from your glass, “Don’t remind me.”

Snatching another glass from a cater’s tray, “No boyfriend?”

Cheeks warming, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Then who is he?” Taeil asks, swirling his glass around, watching the bubbles rise faster and faster with the motion.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” You laugh, handing him your empty glass. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a pair of flats in my office practically screaming my name.” Once again your shoes dug into your ankles, but you’d thought ahead this time and left an emergency pair of flats under your desk. “I’ll see you later.” And with that you leave out of the wide double doors acting as the gateway to the party. About midway down the main hall you stop, leaning your hand against one of the large columns lining the walkway, your other hand moving down to take your shoes off one by one.

“Those’ll be pretty bad blisters tomorrow morning,” A voice behind you speaks out.

Perhaps if it had been a harsh, intimidating tone and not the voice you’d come to know over the past week or so, you’d be more intimidated. “You came,” your almost bare feet now standing on the cool floor as you quickly pick up your shoes and turn to face Jungwoo.

“Well I’m not going to miss my own party, even if I can’t celebrate it in full,” He smiles, “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been telling people I’m here with you.”

“Not at all,” you respond with a shake of your head, suddenly aware of how ridiculous you must look with your shoes in your hands and tight laden feet on the ground.

Jungwoo’s attention is elsewhere though, he’s glancing down the main hallway, looking from left to right, “You know, now that I’m done with my design, I can actually take a look around the other exhibits. What’s your favorite one?”

A few minutes later you’re standing in front of a rather small painting, you look to Jungwoo, who seems to be deep in thought as he studies the painting.

“The detailing is so complex,” He leans in, trying to admire the tiny intricacies of the painting in the dim lights of the room.

“It takes steady hands to make something beautiful,” You agree, turning your eyes to the golden painting. “Even if the composition itself is fairly simple, Klimt had an eye for the subtleties.” Watching the embrace of the two painted, you let out a sigh, “It’ll only be here for a month longer so I try to see it when I can.”

“Is it on loan?” Head tilting to glance at you.

A nod, “From Vienna, I’m not sure how Taeil managed to talk them into lending it out.”

“I’m glad he did, it’s very beautiful,” A double shuffling of feel and a gentle brushing of hands, you don’t know when you started holding his hands but the flames of scarlet creeping you your neck were reminders that it was happening. Moving in the comfortable silence, the pair of you amble around the room to look at the other pieces hanging and standing around. “I think I’m going to try and head back to Naoshima in a month or two,” His voice is quiet, soft and soothing to your ears, “I’d love for you to come with me.”

“I’ll have to see how many vacation days I’ve got left but I’d love to go.” Voice hushed as it echoes around the empty gallery. The sounds of strings rising slowly out of the East Wing, “Should we head back? This is your night after all.”

“Maybe in a bit, I want to enjoy this for a little while longer,” Jungwoo muses and you look to see that he’s gazing at you, turning your head in embarrassment you break the eye contact. He laughs, “Alright, I think we can go back now,” hand still holding yours he gently pulls at you as he begins to walk towards the party.

“There you are,” Taeil’s walking down the main drag of the building as he spots you and Jungwoo heading back. “Jeno’s a mess right now, he knocked over a tray of shrimp and nearly missed getting it all over the Monet,” flustered, he puts a hand on his hip as he sighs. “I swear I’ll put him back on probation if I have to.”

“I don’t think you have to be that drastic, he was probably just worried about Doyoung,” the last you’d seen of him he was slumped over on the table, drunk, talking about how he just wanted to get back to work.

“I’ve got my eye on h-” stopping mid-sentence his eyes catch your hand interlocked with Jungwoo’s. Hand moving from his waist to point from your hands, to you, to Jungwoo, “Boyfriend?” Head tilting he turns to you.

Before you speak Jungwoo interjects, unlinking your hands and holding it out to the elder. “Boyfriend,” he says with a smile as Taeil takes his hand.

“Taeil Moon, I’m her boss,” he greets with a simple shake of his head.

“So I’ve been told,” A grin dancing on his lips as he glances back to you and puts his hands by his sides. “I’m Jungwoo Kim. This is a lovely soirée and I think we’d both like to get back to it,” he extends his hand back out to you, you take it. As you pass Taeil you begin to see him put two and two together, luckily you’re already halfway back into the room before you hear him calling out after the two of you.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct #nct fluff #nct scenarios #NCT 127 #nct dream #nct u #nct 127 scenarios #kim jungwoo #nct jungwoo #this is like 400 years late but it’s up!!

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kaleidiope · 4 years

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September Project updation post in October because, well, i’m silly

This post I’ll mainly talk about my plan for my stories, and the things that’ve changed along with my plans for them and such. This was suppose to be in September but, I procrastinated, so yeah! And, a ‘keep reading’ line to keep things tidy looking! Also, I actually had this as a draft, but forgot about it! Also, also, please don’t mind all the spelling errors that i’m sure is in here, this is quite long, and i’m so sorry for all of that!

You all know the drill, this is an update for the story I've been working on. It was made in roughly February of 2019. Or at least, that’s when I got the idea for it. I’ve been working on it seriously since September of 2019. So, for about a year. On this blog you can find a good bit of random things about it, including drawings. A lot of the drawings I've done I never posted, maybe one day, probably never, but still! A lot of this Blog has actually been WIPS of my story. And, since those past updates, story pitches and such, a few things have changed, and that's what this is about!

First, for those who don’t know, I feel in love with One shot, Deiland, Moonlighter, Borderlands, and a few other games. Mainly One shot for it’s vibe, it’s feel. I loved it, maybe too much? And, really wanted to make something like it. I don’t see that atmosphere much, personally. On Music box maniacs, a lovely site, I was given the idea to make a melody for a character. And that’s how Umber came along. Over time, I kind of made Umber, and left her. Started trying to get into digital art, but without a tablet I tried to create a character that would be easy to free hand with a mouse. Which became Pax. Over time, I feel in love with Pax’s design. I drew him a lot, he was my first, and only OC. I’ve drawn random people and thing’s before, but he had a name. An age. And soon, a back story. He was set in a different world than Umber’s. Which, at this time, is almost abandoned. He was a potion seller’s child who only wanted to go on the adventure’s the customers where experiencing. And one day, he’d face a dragon, and possibly his fate. But that was scraped because each time I drew him, more and more, the backgrounds reminded me of Umber’s story. So, he became a child in her story and his was abandoned. Umber was suppose to be a child traveling with no family trying to get awareness of her light to others. And once meeting Pax in another shop, he agreed to help her. So, you could say, Pax was Moonlighter based, and Umber was One shot based. The idea that her light was a bad thing and there were ‘”bad people” didn’t come until later. Though, Crimson was suppose to be a bully type of person who mocked, and even at times, almost hurt Umber. Because also, at this time, everyone was children. Once it was thought over for awhile then did we get the story line we have now. Umber was an inventor in a world suffering a seeming eternal eclipse. which was ruled by a corporation that was money hungry and didn’t care for the greater good. The world had glowing bugs that somehow emit a good amount of light, and through time and a lot messing and discovery, oddly power? Which is what the corporation sells, Starworm lights, and “batteries” of a sort. The bugs also allow some things to grow, but with them being harvested as much as they are, the corporation is killing the world. But, that won’t be their problem, they’ll be dead by the time it’s an issue. Now, we have a lot of characters and general world building stuff, along with the flora and fauna and how things work. So, let’s begin! (Yes, this is going to be a long post. I’m so sorry!) But, I have since changed a few things, which I will now state. I was pretty heck bent on giving them ages, but, I don’t wish for them to have any, anymore. This is not earth. It’s a planet without a sun. Keeping track of time is easier than days, let alone years. So for many, it’s just a toss up on how long they’ve lived for. Just a mere, rough, idea. I wanted ages for personality comparisons and height ideas for when I draw them. Which, was never my idea at first. This was just for OC’s to draw, yes, but then it became a story for them, along with for my own enjoyment and somehow it became more than that. Which, I oddly love. But, ages were more for an even sillier reason I've since abandoned as well, and I think the story’s better off now since then. Also, they were all children at a time. Adults wouldn’t even have names or faces, All adults were originally suppose to get full face masks. Instead of half masks. But Indigo ruined that, and after that, some of the characters were being made older. To fit with the personalities, for say, Talos. He was also a child, who I didn’t feel being a child would fit the character and mainly, their job in the story as a whole. So yes. The story itself wasn’t the main idea. Having OC’s to draw were. But I was given a lot of support on MBM with my story pitches, also, I enjoyed making them. So I continued. And I really enjoy this. World building has been the hardest, trying to make things make sense, like the eclipse lasting years. And the fact a moon bigger and that much closer to the planet would most likely make the planet itself, the planet’s moon, and the moon, the planet. And how is life still possible, along with, isn’t it cold? And to that, yes, yes, yes, and maybe XD Mainly, this is fantasy, yes, I do want it to make sense, yes, this isn’t earth. The people’s races aren’t our races, calling them human might just be an insult to them. I mean, they don’t even have pupils. (Thanks, odd drawing style.) So, my answer to a lot of this is, it’s not earth. This is fantasy. I’m doing this for fun. And I’ve done a lot research for something that was never suppose to be as much of a thing as it is, but i’m having too much fun to stop now. And with that as well, yes, a lot of my characters are suppose to have a deeper skin color. Talos, Mauve, Indigo, and so on, are suppose to have a more deep olive color. But, at the time of drawing a lot of them, I didn’t have the faith to execute other skin tones correctly. So I just didn’t. Just like drawing illustrations for my story. I didn’t think I would because I didn’t think I could, but i’m now willing to try. So, here is where we stand so far! I want my characters to have a rough age, but it could be depicted to give of take about three years. I’ve said I wanted Pax to be about 11, but I also see him to act older for his age and such. The idea of him being any younger seems odd, but if you wanted to give him a 9-15 age for an example, that’s more than cool. That goes for all my characters. I want a lot of my characters to look like their own character, i’m working very hard with redraws to make sure there’s noticeable differences with their noses and eye shapes and such. I want different skin colors and face shapes and so on, but the idea of different races on such a small planet and even the idea of tanned skin in a world without the sun to give one a tan seems odd to me? But there will be differences, because I always wanted there to be. This story will indeed cover some heavy topics. Including but not limited to, alcohol, death, suicide, murder, mental and physical disorders and illnesses, such as DID, alzheimer’s, dementia, memory issues, abandonment, and a form of racism. All things are not straight out talked about or referenced, but lightly implied. I took inspiration from a lot of things. (including places, animals, other stories and people) And I will not refer to any of it within my story, such as DID. There is already too much falseness and other wrong info on that and other things. I do not trust myself to paint it in a good light, nor a correct light. And will re-frame from actually stating a character has an identity disorder. The idea this world knows of DID and would use the same word is also something I question. But the characters disorder is based on DID. (Also, it’s Tobias.) The idea of genders is something that’s a toss up. I’ve never said anything of the sort and would rather not say anything. The idea that they have genders or sexuality is just something I don’t really want to think about and is rarely mentioned. The idea of love and such is mentioned, purely more for a joke/bit. But still I don’t wish to think of my characters with genders or those parts no matter what I refer to them as. Not mention these characters still aren’t human. I do use She/he/they pronouns for my characters and as of now have used phases like, “That guy” But, it’s become a personal running joke I want to make clear at the start of my story that it was translated and adapted to fit this worlds standers of word form. There are roughly 25 characters as of now, only five main characters, or should I say, five characters that get there point of view expressed. And about six support characters, and the rest are minor support characters. Some of these characters are only mentioned, or referenced, as an attempt to build the world. Questions are always open, and this story is undergoing many changes and constant consideration. As I learn, grow and improve my skills. I have no hope or want for this to get big or anything of the sort. this is for fun. 100%. If it looks like I talk about this a lot, but never have anything to show for it, it’s because I want it to be perfect or close to it before I show anything. Which will be never, because I can never make perfect. I’m just trying to do the best I can and am pushing the limits of my skills to get there. I should note, I am fine, I’m not “Pushing” myself. Which is why it’s taking the time it is. I am really working on character personalities and keeping them coherent and sane along with the same. And talking about all this helps with that. As for now, I know what I want to do, and where I want my story to go, i’m just figuring out how to execute it best. I’m more skilled in writing where I describe things, mainly emotions and the scene it’self. Along with script writing. I’m not skilled with writing conversations which is a large part of my story. Same with drawing backgrounds or anything that isn’t people. So my story so far reads a lot like a script due to how the conversations are laid out and due to how I describe how each thing is done. This is something I want to get a bit away from because it was purely so I wouldn’t get lost and confused with who was talking and the emotion/feel of each scene. That’s because I have the attention span and instruction following skills of a carrot. I use my characters names far too many times along with a lot of other things I use for self help clarity which I hope to fix by the end. I do think it’d be cool to start dropping parts of the story and other things of what I have done, with the note that it could change. I feel it’d be fun, but i’m very hesitant to do so. I do wish to make character bios and such for them all at some point and just have a post that lays down what has been decided so if anyone wants they can follow along with the process. But, that’s all a toss up as of now. Thank-you for reading, and for your time, I hope you have an amazing day! And I dearly apologize for this length!

#Update #OUL update #OUL story draft #Thank-you for your time

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