#i’m sure someone has already done an anthropology about this but anyway i love people and i love how we share mythos across time <3

[mccoyquialisms]

I love how much of a universal human constant it is to fear The Woods. what happens in The Woods is none of our business. if you see or hear something in The Woods after dark, No You Fucking Didn’t and you should leave immediately.

#something something huge swathes of our planet were once covered in dense forrest and jungles full of predators #something something generational memory of survival tips passed on as myths and stories #this thought was sparked after i watched a funny reel by a native man talking about skin walkers #and it reminded me of the same way older european folk tales would talk about The Wolf in the The Woods #i’m sure someone has already done an anthropology about this but anyway i love people and i love how we share mythos across time <3 #humanity #anthropology #the woods are lovely dark and deep

[goldencuffs]

fake dating au part two

Whenever Laurent was overwhelmed, or feeling the kind of loneliness even a good cock couldn’t cure, he would sneak off into the library in the north wing of the Palace, where most of his mother’s official portraits were displayed.

Laurent loved all of them; Hennike was smiling in every single one, blonde hair curled perfectly, and teeth a stunning white. The colouring of her gowns and crowns were so bright, even painted, they seemed to shine in the dullest light. Laurent didn’t really know her; she had died three days after giving birth to him, but he had watched so many interviews and home videos of her, he felt like he had. She had been beautiful, well spoken, and everyone had been shocked when she had fallen for Al, because she had been betrothed to someone else.

Laurent liked coming down here to talk to her. It helped to have her listen to his dramatic tirades. He had started doing it when he was thirteen, when Auguste had enlisted in military training and left him alone, but had stopped a few months later, when Al caught him, his face ashen as he’d watched his youngest son babble to his dead wife.

After that, Laurent made sure to only come down in the dead of night, when he was absolutely desperate.

Which was clearly now; Laurent’s head had been spinning since the dinner at Heston’s. Even dessert hadn’t cheered him up — Heston, the absolute cretin, had served only four options of dessert and not a single one had chocolate in them. Not even one! It was like people intentionally went out of their way to put Laurent in a foul mood. Laurent had already drafted a wordy letter about Heston’s appalling lack of class and hosting abilities on the way home, and he was going to send it to the local tabloid first thing in the morning.

Laurent paced around the library, addressing his favourite portrait of his mother. It was her wedding portrait, and he loved all the detailing in it. The blush pink flowers in her bouquet matched her lipstick and her blush, and the tiara she was wearing had 588 diamonds in it. It was called The Laurent Tiara, and when Laurent had found out it had been Hennike’s favourite crown, he’d cried into his pillowcase for an embarrassingly long time.

“If I tell Al the truth now, he’ll kill me,” Laurent wailed at an appropriately low volume; he was very considerate of the sleeping guards when he threw his tantrums. “Or worse — get me married! Oh god, he’ll set me up with that idiot Torveld and I’ll have to spend the rest of my life hearing about his coin collection. Who even uses cash anymore? And what exactly is the point of having money if you can’t use it? And has Al even considered the aesthetics of our coupling? How are we supposed to wear matching outfits if Torveld looks rubbish in Egyptian blue and azure? Hello! Those are my signature colours!” Laurent sunk down on the lumpy sofa and buried his head in his hands. “Maybe death really is the better option.” He looked up at Hennike’s green eyes. “Is heaven overrated? Where would you personally place it on a scale of one to ten?”

She didn’t answer him, obviously. It was no use, anyway; Laurent was definitely not getting into heaven.

*

Laurent woke up irritated and unrested, and not for his usual, fun reasons. He hadn’t come up with any sort of solution to his dilemma and he had had a very strange dream where Damianos punched him while Al watched on. Then the scene had changed, and Laurent was on stage accepting his tenth Oscar for Best Actor, even though he had yet to star in any films.

“I’m thinking of becoming an actor,” Laurent told Al later that night during dinner.

Al’s eyes narrowed and his mouth became a sharp line. “What?”

“I mean, I have the looks, obviously. And really, how hard is acting anyway? Clearly you don’t even need to be very good at it to star in a movie — look at Channing Tatum. I’m sorry, but it’s very obvious his height was the only thing that got him into Hollywood, and even then it’s not that impressive.”

Al put down his knife and fork. “Can we —” He sounded very strained, “have a normal conversation for once.”

Laurent considered this. “I don’t think we’ve had enough conversations to statistically find out what constitutes a normal one,” he said. Al went red, so he continued, “So you don’t think acting is for me? Shall I try directing then? Or maybe —” He sat up excitedly in his chair. “I could write movies! I have so many ideas! Why, for instance, has no one considered a gay version of The Princess Bride? What would that even be called? The Prince Groom? Ugh, no, that’s terrible. Oh, who am I kidding — with my face and my body I have no choice but to be on camera. Otherwise, it’d be such a waste.”

The vein in Al’s forehead was throbbing. If he had been wearing his crown, it would have gone unnoticed, but like this, it was rather unflattering.

Al said, “Laurent,” in a sombre tone. “I really hope you’re joking.”

“About The Prince Groom? Kind of. But the acting thing — would it really be that bad?”

“You are a prince,” Al said, teeth clenched. “If it is the glam and glitz you want, you have more than enough here.”

Laurent, uncomfortably, thought of his room, the only place in the Palace that was truly his, devoid completely of personal artefacts. He swallowed. “Yes, well.” He tried a smile. “Maybe I should borrow another crown from the royal archives. I don’t think I’ve worn one with emeralds yet.”

Al resumed eating. “Speaking of crowns,” he said, completely glossing over Laurent’s last statement. “I’d like you to wear the Crown of Naos when King Damianos arrives.”

Laurent’s mouth dropped open. “As if! Al, the gold colouring on that completely washes me out! Not to mention the fact that that thing weighs like, five kilograms!”

Al’s nostrils flared at the word Al. He said, “The crown is a gift from Damianos’ great great grandfather to yours. It will be an appropriate and symbolic gesture if you wear it.”

“But why can’t you wear it? Or Auguste?”

“I am not the one having an affair with the King of Akielos,” said Al.

Oh, right. Laurent had forgotten about that. But what was the point? It wasn’t as though Damianos would recognise the gesture. If anything, he might think of it as inappropriate.

Instead he said, “Well, gee, Al, I didn’t peg you as a romantic.” Laurent fluttered his lashes a little.

Al pushed away his plate. “I’m done, thank you.” A servant immediately came to clear away his food.

Al left the dining hall, his shoulders tight. Laurent wished Auguste would hurry back home already.

*

In the morning, on the way back from the stables, Jord said, “Looks like your wish came true.”

Laurent stopped dead. “Oh my god — is Pierre-Alexis Dumas here? Is he finally going to collab with me?”

“Who’s Pierre-Alexis Dumas?” said Jord.

Laurent whirled on him. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Sorry.” Jord said, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. The audacity! “But look.” He pointed past Laurent, to the front of the Palace.

Laurent looked. There was a nondescript black limousine parked on the long, gravel pathway. Laurent would have dismissed it, if he didn’t spot sight of Jeurre, Auguste’s chauffeur, leant up against one of the doors, smoking.

Laurent gasped. He passed on his bridle to Jord, who fumbled to catch it, and ran inside.

Auguste and Al were in the plate room. Al was sitting on the large, velvet throne, a glass of whiskey in his hand. It wasn’t even noon! And he was baring his teeth in that weird way — smiling, as he called it.

Auguste was standing in front of him, hands behind his back. He had gotten very tan, and his hair was much darker, a strange golden colour that made the blue-green of his eyes more appealing.

They both turned when Laurent entered. Al’s mouth was already drooping at the sight of him, but Laurent only had eyes for his brother, whom he hadn’t seen in eight whole months.

Laurent wanted to hug him, which surprised even himself. Laurent was not a hugger. He wasn’t much of a toucher, either, unless it involved getting laid.

Auguste gave him a nod. He sometimes acted so much like Al, it disgusted Laurent; the only difference was that Auguste’s eyes were always kind.

Laurent peered at him closely, shocked. “What have you done to yourself? Are you having a mid-life crisis? Should we call Paschal for a yearly psych evaluation?”

Auguste laughed. “It’s a moustache, Laurent. It’s very fashionable in Kempt, you know.”

“It’s horrendous!” Laurent cried. He stared at the thick hair above Auguste’s top lip in horror. “Right. I’m officially ruling Kempt out as a holiday destination this summer if all the men are growing that.”

Al’s eyebrows furrowed. ��I like it. It’s very refined.”

“Oh god, now we have to get rid of it,” said Laurent, which made Al frown and Auguste laugh. Auguste squeezed Laurent’s shoulder. He was always mindful of Laurent’s boundaries. “I think you’ve grown taller.”

“I haven’t,” Laurent said. He showed off his riding boots. “See? It’s three inches of heel.”

“Very impractical,” Al said under his breath, which was not a very Kingly thing to do.

Auguste was still smiling. “I like it. It matches the piping of your coat.”

“Yes, exactly!” Laurent was so happy in that moment, he leant forward and hugged Auguste. It was very short, but Auguste looked so pleased afterwards, Laurent wished he had prolonged it.

“Did you get me anything?” he asked, to cover the embarrassment following his sudden burst of affection.

Auguste raised an eyebrow. “I’m hurt, Laurent. You’re not going to ask me about my classes or my rather excellent Anthropology professor?”

Laurent scrunched up his face. “Are you stalling because you didn’t get me anything?”

Auguste smiled. “There’s about fifty boxes of Grand Cru chocolate in your bedroom.”

Laurent’s sound of ecstasy was too loud; Al spilled some of his whiskey onto his pants. Auguste clapped him on the back in commiseration.

As the servants laid out a small meal —  roses of smoked salmon on cucumber slices, macaroons, thin slices of cured meat and cheese, crunchy shrimp salad on crusty rolls, grapes and strawberries and mango and pineapple, individual strawberry shortcakes, that kind of thing — Auguste said, “Father tells me you’re having an affair with the King of Akielos.” He said it casually enough, but Laurent could see he wasn’t thrilled about the idea.

Laurent swallowed his last bite of sandwich and placed a hand on his heart. “Al! You should know better than to gossip, shame on you!”

Al just sighed, a long, suffering sound, and Auguste glared openly at him. “I thought you promised to stop disrespecting Father like that.”

Laurent’s stomach pooled with an uncomfortable tightness. Being told off by Auguste somehow was always worse than being told off by Al.

“Fine,” Laurent said shortly. He said to Al: “Oh dearest Father, Papa, Your Majesty, light of my life, the man who impregnated Queen Hennike, so I, your glorious creation, could be born to bring some joy to this bleak, bleak world: stop gossiping immediately.”

There was a very long pause. Then Auguste laughed. “You are such a shit.”

Al sighed again. “He’s becoming more and more insolent by the day.”

“Thank you so much,” Laurent said, wiping away an imaginary tear.

Auguste barked another laugh. Al sipped more whiskey; a very good sign. Laurent was going to take advantage of this; he wanted a new watch.

Auguste continued his questioning a few minutes later. “So. You and the King — it’s true?”

Laurent flapped a hand. “Oh, you know how it is. He saw those pictures of me from Aimeric’s birthday party where I wore those silk shorts that were just long enough to be tasteful and the poor darling had absolutely no choice but to slide into my DMs and woo me.”

“What’s a DM?” asked Al, and if the question had come from anyone else, Laurent would have found it adorable. He probably would have tweeted it as well.

“Texting,” Auguste said. He seemed contemplative. “Aimeric’s birthday — from last September? It’s been a bit more than a year.”

“Yes,” said Laurent. He tried to say it as wistfully as possible. “He bought me a Ferrarri.”

“Really?” Auguste sounded impressed. “The 1954?”

Laurent grinned. “Do you want to drive it?”

“Fuck yeah,” Auguste said, then quickly cleared his throat and looked at their father. “I mean, yes. Perhaps later in the afternoon.”

Al shook his head, but he didn’t say anything for the rest of the meal. Well, he didn’t say anything to Laurent. He really was in a good mood.

*

Having Auguste back had Laurent so distracted it wasn’t until a few days later that he realised how frantically the staff were cleaning the floors and walls and painting frames.

In fact, he became so relaxed doing less than nothing all day, since Al was too busy doing this and that, or fawning over Auguste, he didn’t comprehend why the chefs needed fifty boars delivered fresh on Friday morning, until Al told him before their weekly Council, “I want you to wear your red high neck blouse tomorrow.”

“Why?” Laurent asked, checking for any fine lines in the shine of the armour of one of the propped knights in the hallway.

“It is the colour of the Akielos banner. I am trying to seem as diplomatic as possible.”

Laurent went very, very still. With dawning horror, he said, “The — Damianos is coming tomorrow?”

Al’s expression turned thunderous. “Do not waste my time asking stupid questions, Laurent. You know how much I despise it.”

Laurent’s eyes widened. “Oh no,” he said quietly, real fear settling into his bones. Damianos was going to murder him tomorrow. He would need to get a facial tonight, to ensure he was the most beautiful corpse the human eye had seen. And then something much more horrific occurred to him. “Wait! I can’t wear the red high neck with the Crown of Naos! Those colours completely clash!”

Al seemed to age a few centuries in a blink of an eye. With a shake of his head, he walked into the Chambers, leaving Laurent alone in the hallway.

Laurent frowned. One of these days, he was going to be the one storming out. It was only fair.

*

Things only got worse.

Laurent’s last minute facial broke him out, so he threatened to sue and smashed one of their stupid reclining chairs.

Laurent had honestly thought that was going to be the worst of it; the pimple along his jawline was easy to cover up once he got the local dermatologist to inject something in it.

But on the morning of Damianos’ arrival, Laurent was in a terrible mood. He hadn’t slept at all, worried about his pimple, his horrible outfit, and the fact that a man who was the size of a small house — Google said Damianos was 6’6”, but he was definitely way more, no arguments — was going to viciously kill him.

“Hurry up,” Laurent snapped at the servant dressing him, who had been pulling too sharply at his laces for the last six minutes.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he answered meekly, and continued fumbling about.

When a few more minutes passed, Laurent looked down at him. “Okay, seriously, this is ridiculous. You usually get me dressed in ten minutes or less. What is the problem?”

“I —” The servant looked like he was on the verge of tears. “Your Highness, the laces — I can’t do them up. It’s uh — it’s too tight.”

“What do you mean?” Laurent asked, narrowing his eyes. “This fit perfectly a month ago.”

“Yes, well —” And his eyes slid over to the bed, where an empty, open box of chocolates was stacked against many other empty boxes of chocolate.

Laurent saw red.

It took three guards and then Jord and Lazar to keep Laurent restrained enough to not kill him. In the end, he yelled until his throat was hoarse and the servant broke down, running out the room with his face covered in tears.

Afterwards, Laurent attempted to do up the laces himself, because he was not fat, and he definitely had not gained weight; he was svelte and sexy and desirable.

In the end, he could only do his trousers up, and only just. If he let out a particularly deep exhale… well, breathing was overrated anyway, Laurent had always thought so.

“Oh, forget it!” Laurent howled, miserable and on the verge of tears himself. “I look ridiculous.”

“No, you don’t, Your Highness,” Jord assured quickly. Too quickly.

Laurent glanced at himself in the mirror. His ass was practically suffocated in these trousers — and that was his best feature! He ran a hand down it forlornly. “It’s too tight.”

Jord’s eyes followed his hand with avid interest. He was drooling.

“Could be tighter,” said Lazar, leaning against the bedpost.

Laurent flung himself on the bed. “No it couldn’t. I need to lose about three kilograms in the next —” He checked the clock, “half an hour. Oh god. Just tell Al I died. It’ll make his day, go on.”

“Orgasms help with weight loss,” said Lazar. “I could fuck your face.”

Laurent sniffed “Don’t be so stupid.” He looked at the clock again. “Obviously, riding you will help me lose more calories. Both of you get on the bed, quick.”

*

Laurent did not lose three kilograms in half an hour. As enjoyable as the sex had been, it had only made him tired and anxious.

Jord suggested that Laurent should just let the laces at the back trail, and cover it up with a coat, even though it was far too hot in the year to wear one. Laurent obliged anyway, knowing how difficult Al would be if he showed up wearing undiplomatic colours. He changed his trousers into a different pair, making sure it had an elastic waistband to stretch accommodatingly.

When the crown was placed on his head, he staggered a little. It really was unnecessarily heavy. His great great grandfather must have had a head the size of a watermelon.

Laurent walked unsteadily down the hall, towards the Palace steps where Auguste and Al were already waiting. His insides became so twisted with the thought of seeing Damianos, he had to make a detour and hide behind a tapestry to have a panic, but only a little one.

Outside, the sun was blazing. Auguste clapped him on the back in greeting, and Laurent winced, the material of his blouse sticking to his armpits. Al’s lips curled at his outfit, but Laurent couldn’t care. He hoped he looked beautiful enough — just enough — so Damianos would reconsider his murder. At the very least, Laurent hoped nothing happened to his face.

“Alright?” said Auguste. “You’re sweating.”

“Shut up,” said Laurent, mortified. He was a prince; he did not sweat.

Auguste’s response was cut off by the sound of the gates opening and rolling tires on gravel. Laurent’s heart was in his ears; he swallowed, but it made him feel more sick.

The sleek, black car was parked in the driveway. Several seconds later, Damianos stepped out, tall and handsome.

Laurent whimpered. It was one thing to see photos of Damianos on the internet, walking briskly down the street or shaking hands with Al, and it was another thing entirely to see him in the flesh as he walked down their driveway.

He was so tall. And he was built like a tree; all thick arms and chest and thighs. Laurent had such a weakness for thighs, they were really the best part of a man’s body, how they framed the groin and the cock and —

Laurent realised, suddenly, that he had not prepared at all for how he was going to greet Damianos.

Lovers kissed each other, yes? Laurent didn’t think he could do that without being punched but god, would Al think it was weird if he didn’t at least attempt to kiss Damianos? Maybe he could pretend to suddenly be shy, too coy to look into Damianos’ eyes in front of everyone — yes, yes that sounded perfect.

Damianos came up the stairs, smile wide and straight. His teeth were amazing. Were they fake? Laurent didn’t think so; he ran his tongue over his own, nervous, heart still thumping in his ears.

He greeted Al first. Laurent’s head was spinning. What if Al said something? What if Auguste did? What if Damianos said something that alluded to the fact that this was technically, the first time he and Laurent would be speaking to another?

And then Laurent couldn’t think of anything else, because Damianos was standing right in front of him.

He reached out, one large, dark hand to shake Laurent’s. Laurent staggered forward, into his chest, and closed his eyes.

*

When he opened his eyes again, Laurent saw the most beautiful angel.

“Wow, you’re hot.” Laurent poked a very hard, very strong bicep. “Heaven’s pretty cool.” He was dead, obviously,  because people this good looking didn’t exist in the mortal world.

“You’re not dead, Laurent. Can you sit up?”

Laurent thought about it. He wasn’t dead? That was good news. But he felt like he was dead because he couldn’t move his body at all.

“Here, can you follow my finger?”

“Hmm.” Laurent said and stared unblinkingly at what he assumed was a finger. It was quite blurry.

“I think he’s concussed.”

Laurent giggled. The stranger’s accent made it sound like he had said cock-cussed. It made Laurent want to suck cock.

He said, “If I’m not dead, I’d like to be. Jord, get me my blue Prada scarf. I want to be buried in it. Lazar, get your gun out.”

“He doesn’t seem concussed.” That was Al. The compulsion to die was suddenly much stronger.

“We should take him to the hospital,” the hot angel said. Laurent was in love.

He said as much: “I really love you,” he told the blurry figure. Then he rolled over onto his side and threw up.

#captive prince #im going to see if its worth posting on tumblr and ao3 dont mind me #fake dating au #damen x laurent #my writing #my fic #queue

[najatheangel]

Written Ship 💕💕

hii!! i was wondering if i could get a written ship for NCT, BTS and (G)-IDLE. thank you in advance! 💕

i’m overall quiet laidback and low-energy. i often come off as aloof and standoffish due to my quiet and very, very (very) introverted nature. i’m deadpan and unenthusiastic, both in my humor and overall communication skills, so it’s very hard for me to express my affection (without dying of embarrassment).

i’m a devoted nerd and really enjoy learning. i spend a lot of time broadening my knowledge in anthropology and personality theory, as well as spiritually and astrology. i love reading and writing, spending my time (that i’m not randomly reading someone’s astrological chart or typing every single living being with personality labels) writing new drafts for fantasy books i can only wish to publish.

i’m a libra, INFJ and ravenclaw. i speak fluent portuguese, english and spanish, and am learning french and chinese mandarin — i study linguistics in college. i love conspiracy theories, and have full length 12 pages theories of my own. i also love fashion and dressing up, often getting comments on my “preppy” style. i’m not that in tune with the physical world, so i can often forget to “live” outside my head.

thank you so much for reading this far!!! 💘

Hello honey boo, thanks so much for requesting and telling me about yourself. Your a very interesting person. Anyways here’s your ship...😊😊

From Nct(ot23), I ship you with...Kun

Positive Side: When I read your description, for some reason I just felt like someone like Kun would be the perfect fit. Although your personalities and energy levels are very different, Kun can motivate you for simple things like waking up early in the morning, do something productive and even try new things you’ve never done before. Don’t worry about embarrassing yourself sometimes Kun has his very corny yet cute moments so, he has no shame in feeling embarrassed with you. As we know, he’s the ultimate mama/husband material for you and the Wayv members so sometimes he’ll need someone laidback as you to help him relax, get good sleep and talk about his day with. So this opposite attract situation works for the best! As far as hobbies, you both have a lot of interests and share your love for knowledge on certain topics. Kun is very wise and is willing to read the latest books you recommend to each other and later on will have discussions on them. He would send you his secret cooking recipes to let you cook by yourself if he wasn’t around to eat together with you. While he was off on his comebacks, backstage he would read up on personality types and his astrology natal chart that you have sent him so he would discover more about himself. He’s very fluent in Chinese and Korean, but he would also want to learn other languages from you since ten be teasing him like crazy so he decides to take weekly language lessons from you. Overall you both can learn to adapt to each other’s personalities yet at the same time bring the best versions out of yourselves.

Negative Side: Once you two started getting serious, the scarier it got for the both of you because now friends and family were involved in learning more about your relationship together. The pressure got to you not only because you wanted to make a good impression on them, but it was all starting to move too fast for you. Kun asked you out after 4 months of being with you and you didn’t want to break his heart by saying you need more time or this is moving too fast, so you just rolled with it. Knowing how introverted you can be, the anxiety started kicking when you were meeting his family. They seemed very sweet and supportive, but they were asking a lot of questions and it started to get to your head. You panicked and decided to leave early not wanting disappoint Kun. “Kun, I think we’re going to have to slow down a bit. I’m not ready to face your family yet.” He tries to grab your sleeve to keep you from leaving his parents house, but you ran off shedding a tear. “I guess she’s going to need some more time.” Leans against the door looking up to the ceiling sighing.

But...: After a few weeks of not speaking or visiting Kun, you’ve decided how much you wanted to be with him and are willing to face through this awkward moment with him together one last time. Once you’ve called him you didn’t even have to tell him where you were, he was already behind the door and ran upstairs to your room to pick you up bridal style spinning you around. You were home alone for a split second enjoying your long awaited reunion until you hear your parents knocking on your door dropping off some food for you. You were a bit nervous, but more confident than the last time to let Kun meet your parents first. You walk down stairs hand in hand smiling at each other before opening the door. “Let’s invite them in and eat together Kun.” “There’s no turning back after this are you sure?” You kiss him on the cheek and then on the forehead to calm the nerves. “Oh I’m sure.”

From Bts, I ship you with...RM

Positive Side: You two are unstoppable together, the beauty and the brains couple. You were infatuated by each other the more you get to know each other by the minute. Although your a ravenclaw and he’s a griffindor, you both compliment each other very well and adore each other’s characteristics. He love how intelligent, sharp and creative you can be when you put your efforts into your writing and your ability to learn multiple languages which is a used skill to have. Just like Kun, you can learn from his leadership skills and you love how caring he is amongst the people around him. RM loves his alone time when it comes to reading a book to find inspiration in the mountains or traveling to different art exhibits to take his beautiful photos, but the he’s much happier bringing you along. He was your biggest inspiration and you wanted to follow in his footsteps which along the way developed into a romantic relationship. He also had that ability to help you achieve your dreams by sending you motivational quotes, giving you advice and giving you feedback on your writing so you can publish your books with his help. Although he has his clumsy moments and might makes mistakes every once in awhile, he still wishes to do his best to be your life partner and mentor for the long run until you both retire.

Negative Side: It was a tough process trying to make it official with him, because most of your conversations were about astrology, conspiracy theories and hardships you’ve experienced throughout your pasts. You saw him as a mentor and a reliable resource and you thought that was all he would ever be. However, he was the first one to fall for you and worked really hard to make you notice, but never out right said. When you even started going on blind dates, he was still being the sweet man supporting your love life. This one time you even introduced the guy you were dating for awhile in front of him and he was trying his best to smile and be happy for you, but it was obviously getting to him. “Y/N, I think I’m going to head back out to the dorms, I’ll see ya later.” He tries to reach out to hug you, but the guy your with clings you closer to him glaring at him. Ever since it was awkward for the both of you to face each other.

But...: After months of being with your current boyfriend you start missing RM and you start feeling bored with your relationship. The excitement, feeling and passion just wasn’t the same without being with RM. You decided to meet up with now to be your ex and told him that you should see other people because how you fallen in love with RM. For the most part he expected that to happen and offered you to drive you to the airport to catch up with RM before he flies away to L.A. for his album promotions. It was like straight of a k-drama, you ran as fast as you can to find Bts and as soon as they were going to walk inside the airplane, you saw them and screamed “Namjoon!” to get his attention. He was confused at first, but as soon as he heard your confession he cut you off with a kiss. “You don’t even have to say it. I love you too. I have for a longtime.” He looks down at you smiling, but realizes he has to leave in 1 minute. “Go ahead Namjoon, I’ll be waiting for your return.” You both wave at each other blowing one last air kiss each other waiting for the next reunion.

His future wife is going to be sooo lucky. ✨

From (G)-IDLE, I ship you with...Yuqi

Positive Side: She was your saving grace. This is another opposites attract situation where your personalities oddly blend so well together. While your more introverted and prefer to stay in small groups, she’s more on the extrovert side and prefers to hang out in big groups. Since she likes you so much, she doesn’t mind being alone with you and spending quality time with you. Once again she can be very funny and sometimes have her clumsy yet cute moments just like RM which makes you fall in love with her even more. When you show her your stories and need feedback on it, she reads it over as many times as you need to with her deep satisfying reading voice. She might not know a lot on your subject as far as astrology, personality types and linguistics, but she’ll know what study tools that’ll help you pass your exams, take time out of her schedule to help you finish your papers and reward you with a good meal with her members after your done. Lastly she would love to learn multiple languages from you and even ask you how to say certain words so she can say things like “I love you” or “I want to cuddle”, but when’s she’s away she wants to say “I miss you. I can’t wait to see you again”

Negative Side: For the most part Yuqi is very sweet to you and there’s barely any arguments about anything, but except when you have your days when your stuck in bed or prefer to have some time alone. Yuqi is very friendly and would want to spend as much time with you as possible, because of her schedule so when your not in the mood to hang out or prefer to sleep on your own it does upset her a little. She would be a little irritated for the most part, but she wouldn’t try to have a full outburst over it because she has other things to worry about. She would even tell her members about it which would upset you, because you feel like she’s fed up with you and cause a misunderstanding.

But...: After talking it over with the members, she realizes that sometimes you just need your time alone to rest from school, writing and doing research all day. Just like for her when she had to be in the studio and practice her choreography all week for her comebacks, she needs some time to rest, but have her members if she can’t reach out to you. You both apologize for upsetting each other and for now on will work the issues out by talking to each other. Your both also very forgiving and don’t dwell to much on the past so it’s best to focus on the future.

Out of everyone, I ship you the most with...RM💜

@nephilete Thanks so so much for requesting love and I hope this somewhat made your night/day. Feel free to request again.

#submission #kpop ships #written ships #nct 2020 #nct ships #nct ot23 #Kun #bts ships #Bts #rm #(​g)-idle ships #(g)-idle #yuqi

[purplesurveys]

1014

What snack food could you not live without? I feel like “can’t live without” is pushing it too far, but Pringles is my favorite and I imagine I’d be pretty miserable if they hypothetically suddenly disappear or stop production. Can never get enough of those.

What/where is your favorite restaurant? And what do they specialize in? Yabu. It’s Japanese, but they mainly specialize in katsu so they don’t have sushi or ramen or sukiyaki or other types of Japanese food. I haven’t had my usual since February or March, so I can’t waaaait until I can finally order for myself.

How do you waste time when you are procrastinating? Looking for anything I can watch on YouTube. Once I’ve found a video it usually is able to send me into a black hole of other videos, so it’s been quite the effective way to avoid tasks or things I’m worrying about.

Do you follow any celebrities on social media? Who? I don’t, honestly. I never understood it about myself lol; I’m fascinated by a number of celebrities but the idea of being constantly updated about their personal lives just never seemed appealing to me. I guess I just like them for what they do and the celebrity that comes with it. The only one I follow on Twitter is Hayley Williams.

Who do you admire for what they have accomplished? Probably Arlan. Dude had like 10 orgs while in college, was in the college student council, and he got accepted to Columbia’s graduate program for journalism for the next school year. Idek how he even finds the time to sleep.

Would you like if you never had to work again? Lately I’ve been learning about myself that work gives me a sense of purpose, so even if I was offered all the money in the world, I’d take it but I would still want to work (assuming I’m in a job I like and care about). I never want to go back to how shitty I felt in September when I was neither studying nor working.

Are you a big sports fan? What team and sports? I like watching basketball and volleyball games, but only the ones played in our local university league – that said, I obviously root for my school lol. I like pro wrestling too, but they don’t work in teams.

Do you believe in following your dreams? Yes, but the way there is vastly different for everyone in that some people may have the connections and resources early on, while some will have to work and claw a little harder. The playing field isn’t always level, unfortunately.

Do you like to play board games? They’re fine, but I typically prefer to watch from the sidelines mostly because I’m terrible at following instructions and retaining them in my head as I play.

What were your favorites games as a kid? Does it have to be board games? I played outside way more often and my favorites were patintero, 10-20, and a game we called ‘ice ice water,’ which is really just freeze tag. I also liked pick-up sticks.

Would you like to be a “stay at home” mom or dad? I dunno if I would enjoy that, honestly. Like I said, I like the idea of working as it makes me feel productive...but who knows? I’m only 22, literally a fresh graduate, I don’t have kids, and it’s a long way before I can possibly become a mom. But my priorities could always change; I could wind up being a mom who is content with being a housewife. I really have no clue, and I’ll never know until I get there.

How are your “direction skills” when you are driving? Yeah, they’re nonexistent. I need Waze all the time if I’m the one driving, even if it’s going to a place I routinely travel to.

Do you need to be in charge or are you happy to let someone else take charge? It depends on how confident or familiar I am with the task at hand. I can handle being either a leader or a follower; but I do think that, for all tasks I’m involved in, I do like to help call the shots and decide on things on some level, no matter how little it is. I never just follow, if that makes sense.

Would you rather “talk it out” or “let it go” and hope it’s forgotten about? Talk it out. Communication is really important to me.

What celebrity have others told you that you look like? Anna Akana and Lucy Hale.

Do you like to dance? What kind do you enjoy the most? Only either when I’m alone or have had a lot to drink. I don’t actually know any types of dance.

Do you feel anxious right now? Eh, not really. I’m a little sad, but getting out of bed to sit at my desk has slightly fixed that for the meantime.

Do you like to eat breakfast for dinner? What are your faves? Sometimes my dad will make breakfast food for dinner, yeah. I’m never enthusiastic about it lol, but I don’t complain.

Do you feel like you will ever have enough money to make you happy? Sure, I think so. I know I definitely don’t want to end up being extremely selfish about money.

What is more appealing to you: a pub crawl or a wine tasting? Pub crawl, for sure. I hate wine anyway.

What classes or courses would you take to learn more about? International relations, biology, and anthropology.

Would you ever get a tattoo? What kind would you get? Idk if I would ever get one, but one of my ideas is to have Paramore’s lyrics “For all the joy that is to come / Just let the pain remind you hearts can heal” on my wrist, kinda like as a reminder that there are brighter days ahead. That’s not the correct sequence of lyrics, but combining those lines together was what spoke to me the most. 

How much time do you spend working out a week? (you can fib a little) I don’t work out.

Do you dress up for Halloween? What was your best costume? Only if my friends have something planned. I’ve mentioned this several times lately but my personal favorite costume was going as my old best friend, Sofie. It was so low-effort but everyone understood who I was and had a kick out of it.

How often do you like to shop online? I never really did it regularly before since I had been on a tight allowance throughout college, but now that I’m earning on my own I could see myself ordering stuff online 1-2 times a month.

Have you ever spent time “online dating?” No. I had Tinder before, but just to people-watch. Still not interested in it now.

Do you ever hang out with your parents? How about your siblings? No. We don’t do one-on-one bonding; we’re all emotionally unequipped for that lol. I hate that I missed out on family things like that; and my future kid/s is/are definitely getting a lot of solo dates with me.

What is the number one way that you like to spend your time? Probably going on YouTube. There’s always something to watch over there.

Is it easy or hard for you to be lazy all day? Easy for the most part, but if I know I have work to do I also like getting my ass up to wrap that up as quickly as I can.

How similar are you to your zodiac sign characteristics? Based on what’s been shoved down my throat from social media, Tauruses  love their food, hold grudges, are fiercely loyal, resistant to change, and annoyingly stubborn. Those things are all me.

What are you addicted to? I don’t have any addictions.

What is the last song that you saved to your playlist? Haven’t been using my playlists lately.

If you could listen to only one artist, who would that be? Paramore.

Who would you like to be president right now? We have a dictator of a president at the moment and the list of potential candidates for 2022 isn’t looking too great either, so...who the fuck knows. I’m hoping someone capable – and someone preferably younger – steps up to take the challenge before 2022. I look forward to the day we take to the streets to celebrate the same way America did today.

Were you popular in school? I mean in high school I was kinda on the radar, but I still liked staying at the sides and let my more popular friends take the spotlight. Besides, I was already linked with Gabie and I didn’t want teachers and staff to be on our asses. 

What is your favorite place that you have ever visited? Locally, Sagada. Outside of the country, probably Shanghai.

What places do you want to travel to before you get too old? Ideally I’d want to travel to as many countries as I can, to be honest. Doesn’t matter where. But if I can only afford to do so a handful of times, I’d spend that money on Morocco, India, Thailand, Egypt, South Korea, Iceland, Peru, and Spain (and then maybe go on a European road trip from there).

What is the perfect work schedule that you would love? I’m happy with my current 9-6 shift.

What was the best party that you have ever been to? Rita’s sister’s org’s Halloween party from last year.

Did school come easy for you or was it hard? High school was easy, but I purposely didn’t put much effort into it. I didn’t see the point, considering a) teachers have their established favorite students early on and I knew I wasn’t one of them and no matter how well I did I knew I wasn’t going to get recognized, and b) workplaces could not care less about your high school record. College was also easy, and I found balancing my academics, org life, and social life to be fun and fulfilling.

What language do you enjoy listening to? English or Filipino.

Would you take the time to learn a new language? Sure. I’ve done that with Spanish and Korean before.

If you had a personal assistant, what would you have them do? Make them do the phone calls whenever I would have to at work.

Who is the funniest person that you know? I have several people in mind, honestly - Andi, Kate, Jum, Aya, JM, Hans.

Who is the worst pain in the ass that you know? My mom. Sometimes Cooper.

Whose life do you look to as a “model” of what you would like yours to ultimately look like? Anna, one of the moms from the Korean reality show I watch. Her amazing attitude towards life, her parenting skills, cooking skills, aesthetic, and overall life is all I want.

How much money do you save from your paycheck? I have no idea how to budget yet. AAAHHHHHHHHH

Which is a stronger emotion, fear or joy? I think both can be felt strongly.

What types of people do you follow on social media? Athletes, Influencers? Mostly irl people. The only famous people I follow are AJ Mendez (though she’ll always be AJ Lee to me) and Hayley, like I said. OH WAIT I also follow the entire GMM crew! Idk why I missed that.

Would you ever like to work remotely and travel? That’d be nice, sure.

When were you the poorest that you have ever been? Quarantine.

#survey #surveys

[coeurdastronaute]

Either/Or: Krypton

Supercorp AU where Krypton never exploded but Kara & Lena still meet & fall in love anyways. Whether Kara still ends coming to earth or Lena goes to Krypton.

It was the squint of light that finally reached her eyes that woke her, though she battled it tiredly, digging her head into her pillow. The long night mingled in her bones, making itself nice and cozy in the sheets of the bed, tangling up in her limbs and keeping her disinterested in leaving. Until she remembered.

With a start, a messy head of curls shot up, slightly dazed and confused at the quick movement, slow thoughts, and uncooperative limbs. A hand slapped her own eye as she misjudged distance and tried to rub it while the day woke well ahead of the body, so that even the normal morning song was already finished, further confusing the poor, hard working artist-in-training.

“I’m late,” she coughed to herself, still unable to move herself until her limbs caught up, and then surpassed her thoughts. “Rao no, not today. No no no nonononono.”

Books tumbled to the floor as legs knotted into themselves earning a body on the ground with a loud oomph. Kara pushed herself up, quickly shoving her papers and books together again, hoping that her newest transponder and tablet weren’t broken again as they all were put back onto the pile of her bed while she looked for pants.

She was a rarity, for her age. Done with her core schooling, and even past her testing, she was into her apprenticeship, which was very different than her friends. She got lost for hours in the Great Archives, while others trained with the Warriors or studied with the Thinkers, and whenever asked what she did, all she could say was that she looked for truth and purpose, though it was less tangible than calluses and experiments.

There were bruises though still.

“Clothes. I need clothes,” she muttered, frantically tugging at anything she could get her hands on until she was at least not completely naked. She did, however, in the process of getting dressed, knock over a pile of books, some instruments, and the astrolabe on her desk.

The clock told her she was so late it was going to be impossible to catch up, though that didn’t stop her from trying. Long legs leaped over her bed as she sprinted from one side of her room to the other, slamming into the door before opening it and continuing the marathon through the halls of her ancestral home.

It was in this way that she differed from others her age as well. While most left home, moved in with a group from their trade, or friends, Kara remained in the giant citadel that was her family home as was required by her name and lineage. It only made her trip into Argo City even more difficult though. On any other day, she loved her home. Today, when she needed to get downtown quickly, it was a prison.

No one remained at all, their dwelling silent. Her mother was gone for the day, her father, most likely left before her. It was maddening to even imagine they wouldn’t wake her. But still, Kara didn’t have time to think of her own mistakes. Instead, she tapped the button to the lift impatiently.

Her foot tapped as she slowly descended until she prepared herself a few floors before the end, ready to take off once they doors opened again.

The Loop was the quickest method of travel, and it still felt like a million years. As soon as her feet touched ground at the closest station downtown, she didn’t breathe. Like that, she was gone as soon as it opened, weaving her way through the streets toward the transportation, hoping she could make up any sort of already lost time.

Her mother was going to kill her, surely.

“I’m sorry!” she yelped, barely dodging a neighbor. “I’m late. Hello, Jran Shara. Apologies,” she bowed her head and slowed, showing the utmost respect she could in her frantic state to the bespeckled, elderly woman who worked with her mother. “Lovely day today.”

Not kill her, but definitely give her that exasperated sigh and look. But it wasn’t Kara’s fault other than it being completely her fault. She didn’t really have time for the ambassadorship program. She didn’t feel the need to spend her time with some aliens from Earth on an anthropological and political excursion. In just six lorakh she would finish her apprenticeship in the archives, and the final part of her studies was exhaustively complete. But Kara would support her mother and father because it was not just expected, but rather something that she believed in more than anything. That duty, the honor of their deeds.

“And that is the true purpose of everything we strive to accomplish,” Kara’s mother addressed the crowd formed to welcome the first ship from Earth. “We seek to welcome these ambassadors and accomplish a peace between our worlds. For while the universe is vast and dark, there is light in the form of our friendships, holding hands across the infinite expanse. We can learn so much from new cultures, and it is in this that I am overjoyed to welcome the team from Earth.”

Applause rang out in a steady wave as Kara clapped and wiggled through the crowds toward her father on the side of the stage.

“As we once descended from great explorers and minds, all of which created our beautiful home and discovered our planet, we now endeavor to become like them once again, open in our minds and hearts to the unlimited potential that rests within every species.”

“You nearly missed it,” her father smiled without taking his eyes off of his wife.

“I know. I’m sorry,” she grumbled, catching her breath. “My alarm didn’t go off, and I was up late in the Archives. Did she notice?”

As if she heard them amidst the clamor, the leader of the law council gave a small smile to her family at the edge of the crowd.

“I told her you were here somewhere,” he grinned conspiratorially before putting his arm around his daughter as she hugged his side. “Come on, let’s go. Just tell her you were preparing our home for our guest.”

“Wait, one is staying with us?” Kara furrowed at the news.

“I thought I told you…” Zor-El wondered to himself. “You’ve been so busy lately, out in the world. I’m sure I told you.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Right, well. You won’t notice. We have plenty of room and she’ll be working with me, mostly.”

Before Kara could argue the point, she felt her feet carry her toward her mother. It wouldn’t matter anyway. It seemed oddly natural that they would host someone, with her mother spearheading this plan for expanding their network. Kara almost kicked herself for not considering it until that moment.

“Great speech, Mom,” she smiled as Alura hugged her.

“The part you caught, right?”

“Yes, that part especially.” Kara blushed slightly, offering a furtive grin.

“I was just telling our daughter about the new addition to our family,” Zor-El supplied as he kissed his wife’s temple. “It seems I forgot.”

“I know you’re busy,” her mother tried. “And I wouldn’t ask you to take time away from your studies. You won’t--”

“It’s fine, I promise,” Kara cut her off quickly. “I’m excited. This is a huge day for our people and this will be great.”

“Come on then. Let’s go take those last few steps toward progress, shall we?”

“I’m actually late for the Archives. Pal-Kann has assignments for me.”

The parents shared a look until her father nodded. Her mother squeezed her arm and smiled fondly.

“Work well. Learn everything.”

They touched foreheads and Kara smiled broadly before sprinting off.

“Do you ever remember a moment when she walked?” Alura sighed.

“Not at all.”

Never before in the history of words had overwhelmed felt so fitting and encompassing of a feeling. It took two months of travelling to meet the new sister world. It took twelve years of diplomacy to even create the trip and expand each other’s culture. But still, even with the two years spent preparing, Lena Luthor felt largely out of her element and exceedingly dazzled by everything she saw.

How could she not be blown away by the society presented? How could she not be mesmerized and intrigued by the world that stretched higher than she’d ever imagined, and more advanced than humanly possible? It was her own Christmas, but better.

And it was a miracle she even got to make the trip.

Younger by almost twenty years to the other youngest members of the exchange crew, she earned her spot by being the most brilliant mind the collective universities and powers to be could find. While there were physicists and astronomers, and engineers and doctors, she was not just the science, she was the tech wizard, the genius that her father promised and had a heavy hand in getting  seat.

But it was supposed to be her brother, though as Lionel’s favorite, Lena won out over his duty to their family’s company. She saw how much it hurt him, and though she tried to offer it to him, an act that actually hurt, no matter how much she tried to convince herself that selflessness was a virtue, he respected his father’s wishes and let her keep it.

And at the moment, standing in the streets of the capital of an advanced alien planet, Lena wanted to show him so badly while at the same time, already had a thousand questions of her hosts, forgetting her brother entirety.

Slowly, the groups were formed as hosts were introduced to their exchanges. Lena waited for her’s, the noble house of El, an esteemed, ancient family with a knack for diplomacy and technology. She was grateful for the placement, excited to work with Zor-El, the head of a research group, though her father urged her to shadow Alura, the somewhat political leader of the planet.

Lena just wanted to know what fuel they used for the ships.

“Lena of the House of Luthor?”

“Yes, yes, hello,” she snapped back from marvelling at the skyline and every single thing that existed.

She was met with two of the most beautiful, smiling, angelic faces she’d ever seen, both beaming at her kindly, welcoming her. The man, tall, slender faced with a bushy black beard and warm brown eyes waited for her to catch her wits. The blonde, blue eyed woman couldn’t.

“We are so happy to hear of your safe arrival. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“It is an honor to be here with you,” Lena smiled and nodded, bowing as she was instructed per their liaison. “Zor-El, Alura.”

“Your travels were nice?”

“They were. Your city is…” she looked around again and felt as if her lungs were filled to dangerous capacity. “Its one of the most magnificent things I have ever seen.”

“We have many things to show you, but we thought today we would allow you to adjust,” the husband explained while she continued to look around, eyes wide and searching. “Your things are on the way to our home already. Perhaps a stroll and small tour. I’m sure you will want to stretch your legs after two months in a confined space.”

“I’m not keeping you from your work, am I? “

“No, no,” Alura promised, wrapping her arm around Lena’s as she began to guide her. “We have been planning this for many years. We want you to learn from us as we will learn from you, therefore we are more lenient about time when it comes to those housing guests.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’ll message our daughter to be home at a good hour,” Zor-El excused himself to the side as he messaged somehow. “And now we can begin. Welcome to Krypton, Lena of House of Luthor.”

There was never a shortage of reading material while she worked on finishing her work in the Archives. Tasked with keeping the history of their world, tasked with helping all of the guilds with their research, tasked with creating the past and helping the future, Kara was constantly behind in reading and learning.

Normally, she didn’t get back until much later. Just something about losing track of time kept her on a weird schedule. But she had obligations, and so she made it back with her arms full of more books, more assignments.

Normally, the house was quiet. From time to time, friends and even her aunt might stop by for a dinner or game night. Sometimes there were associates who visited and who brought their families. But most of the time, the House of El was quiet. Not lonely, not sullen, not scary, but rather just a happy kind of solitude.

But it wasn’t a normal day, and as Kara dropped her books on a table as she walked through their home, she didn’t have to strain her ears much to hear the laughter and talking coming from outside. It was a familiar sound that she hadn’t missed until she heard it again, one that was all memories of long nights and fun parties with good friends and family

The doors were open, the windows all smelled like the flowers out on the edge of their land, the oldest plot of land on their planet, owned by the family since the beginning of time, since the beginning of the history as they all knew it. It was the honor of their house to be known as a home to thinkers and talkers alike. Kara had a pride in their ability to converse and bring together so many unique people in its history. Tonight was no different, and perhaps one of the most important yet.

“So you use finite resources to propel all manner of transportation and infrastructure?”

“Yes.”

“But how will that affect the composition of the planet?”

“Badly.” They laughed as Kara finally snuck out to meet them. “There are large movements to use renewable resources, but convenience is paramount.”

“In all of my studies of humans, I’ve found that pragmatism is often at a loss to the selfish interests of the few,” her father waxed. “How do you combat that? Or can you?”

“I can’t say that my father isn’t one of them. Money and power often interrupt the idea of the future.”

“But you already have a grasp on such advanced theories and problems.”

“I’m trying,” she smiled politely. “Hopefully I can find a balance to make evolution a little less painful.”

“Oh, Kara! Honey, hello,” her mother greeted, the first to spot her lurking and listening. “You made it home early.”

“Wouldn’t want to miss our guest’s first night.”

She kissed her mother’s cheek and earned a smile from her father. That was the last thing she remembered doing, because then she looked at the guest and she was certain all words kind of didn’t make words any longer. Letters existed and she had a few, both her common language and the six she’d picked up throughout her studies all smashed together to create untranslatable feelings.

Her clothes were foreign, her look was… she wasn’t Kryptonian. Her eyes were this deep green, evident even in the light of the evening sky. Kara wasn’t sure she’d ever seen someone who looked like that, nor was she certain that someone made her heart skip in an instant.

“This is Lena Luthor. Just Luthor. No house,” her father explained. “I’ve already learned a lot about their social structure.”

Kara grinned at how excited he was to learn new things. She was certain that he probably bombarded her with questions. She had about a thousand to ask as well, though none came to mind in that instant.

“Kara,” she held out her hand as she’d read was custom. “It’s nice to meet you, Lena.”

“Your parents have told me a lot about you,” she smiled and Kara was a goner.

It wasn’t uncommon to see other people often. She was young, and they had parties and she saw people in a sometimes romantic way. She’d never seen anyone or looked at anyone like how she must have been looking at this alien.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“I was just answering a few questions. And asking a few, if I’m being honest.”

“It sounds like you two will grow bored after just a few days.”

“I don’t think I could run out of questions here,” she laughed and watched as Kara sat across from her. “I don’t know if you did this, but kids, back on Earth, they ask so many questions that it’s maddening. Why is the sky blue? Where does the garbage go? Do trees have feelings?”

“Do they?” Kara asked eagerly.

“Some trees have roots that are thousands of feet long and connect each other across large distances. I don’t know if they feel, but they must.”

“Good. I like that.”

“I feel like a child again, now that I’m here,” Lena explained. “I want to know how cars go and why the sky is this color.”

That was it. One minute, and Kara was mesmerized. She was absolutely taken with the stranger and she didn’t even realize how gone she was. But even after she finished talking, Kara stared and waited for more words, until her father cleared his throat.

“Kara is training to take over the Archives. It’s a coveted position,” Alura explained as she motioned for Lena to take a seat once again.

“Though she has the brain for the thinking guild,” her father sighed, one of the great tragedies of his rather perfect life.

For years, his daughter shadowed him, showed a knack for thinking, for science, for theory, for experimentation, and yet, when she was selected for the position, one that any parent would have been amazed to see, he felt a pang of loss. She wasn’t his any longer. Now, she belonged to their city and their past.

“The Archives? What does that mean?”

“They explained the guilds?” Kara asked, sitting back and stealing a bit of food from the plates between them. She watched Lena nod. “My mother is a Mediator, devoted to law. My father is a thinker, devoted to the sciences. I am an Archivist, devoted to all.”

“All of the guilds?” Lena furrowed.

“There are twelve of us. One in each of the cities. It’s… it’s complicated. But I can show you one day. For now, it just means that I study and learn and collect.”

“I’d love that.”

“It appears I'm outnumbered even more,” her father grinned and drank his wine.

From across the porch, Kara smiled at him before making the fatal mistake of looking back at Lena of house Luthor, and she was gone once again. She’d read thousands of books. She’d spent hours observing the clouds and calculating the stars and documenting their stories, and yet she’d never, in all of her time, in all of history, in all of the shared consciousness of her race, noted anything like the feeling she got when she looked at the stranger.

She would consult the Archives in the morning, she decided as she stole another treat though her mother gave her a look for not sharing well enough. She would look in the compiled histories for what it could mean to be intrigued and absolutely mesmerized by someone who hadn’t said twenty words.

By far, the biggest surprise of her arrival to Krypton had not been the technology or the beauty of it, nor was it the kindness of the people or the graciousness to which they enacted to welcome their guests. The biggest surprise was how many times Kara could stumble and stutter and wave her hands while she spoke passionately about things, while everyone else seemed so effortlessly graceful and precise. She somehow managed to find the one Kryptonian that was so very human it was almost endearing.

As the evening set in, as the wine was shared and the delicious treats were passed, as topics were debated and discussed, Lena found herself often looking toward the girl who had a shy grin and an air of almost whimsy about her ideas. She was everything Lena never imagined one person to hold within themselves, and that was just after a few hours. Hair wild, skin of her shoulders on display, the delicate bones of her collar precise and even, eyes deep brown, chin cleft and regal, she was perfection, plain and simple.

“It is getting late,” Zor-El realized as he saw Lena attempt to stifle another yawn. She smiled politely though through it. “We have been rude to keep you up after your trip.”

“I’m sure this is a lot to process,” Alura agreed. “And we have tried to solve the entire galaxy’s problems in one night and two bottles of wine.”

“A noble effort,” Lena chuckled.

“Kara, could you show Lena to her rooms?” the mother asked, earning a little jump. “We’ll clean up.”

“Oh, yes. Yeah, I could do that,” she nodded and stood quickly.

Lena couldn’t help but smile. Something about Kara was just so… good. She felt like sunshine. She reminded her of those little puppies in the pet store window that her father would never let her have despite pleading with him for months leading up to her birthday and Christmas. Kara was the perfect little cocker spaniel with her paws pressed against the window, and the thought made Lena warm.

But she blamed it on the wine and the long day and the inability of her brain to process all that had happened.

“Thank you for having me,” Lena offered to the parents. “I know that this is an act of faith between our worlds, and I am deeply humbled and honored to be here.”

“It’s our pleasure to have you,” the father bowed slightly.

“You are so full of hope,” Alura smiled and held Lena’s shoulders, a move that scared her slightly, though she did not show it. “Go rest. Tomorrow your universe gets much larger.”

With the nods and thanks, Lena waited as the family spoke in their language before she finally followed her guide from the back and into the house that she barely got to see before being whisked outside to be swept off of her feet by the hospitality presented to her.

Though she wanted to take it all in, she didn’t have the brainpower to learn anything else, and she certainly was devoting more than she’d admit to thinking of something to say to the girl who appeared and made her feel at ease.

Instead of words, she just followed dumbly.

A few steps ahead of her, Kara racked her brain for some kind of combination of words that would sound clever and interesting, though she came up with absolutely nothing, and so she gave up in favor of just any words to fill the quiet.

“Our home is the oldest on the planet. It started smaller, but grew and was remodeled after the third war,” she explained as the ascended a staircase. “My parents usually host guests of honor for that reason. And all of our family are welcome here at anytime. Not that you’re not a guest of honor. I mean. You are. Usually meant we have in the past.”

“I get it,” Lena promised. “This place is beautiful.”

“I’ll make sure to give you a proper tour in the daylight. We have you in the second tower. It will have everything you need and the view in the morning is beautiful. You can see the city twinkling as the sun rises.”

“It sounds spectacular.”

“If you do need anything,” she paused. “I’m not far. In fact. This is, uh, my room,” Kara opened the door and remembered the state she left it in after her sprint of the morning. “Nothing interesting in there.”

“Could I look, still?”

“Oh, yeah, um, sure.”

Idiot, Kara berated herself. She wasn’t sure why she agreed, except she did and it was too late.

Kara stood in the door and watched Lena take tentative steps forward before she stopped and simply started to look. The inhabitant couldn’t remember the last time she truly scrutinized her own room, and now it felt oddly embarrassing.

The bed was unmade. The windows were wide open, allowing the chill of the night to creep in through the breeze that seemed perpetual so far from the city. The shelves were full of trinkets while the floor was stacked with books. The large computer desk in the corner glowed only slightly, but still made itself known. Kara watched Lena pick up a book from the ground and trace her hand along the page before picking up another.

“It’s amazing how similar some things are to us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your room looks like my workshop,” Lena turned and smiled. “Could you tell me why you have paper books and why one of them is a poetry anthology?”

“The Archives houses all knowledge. It is an old artform, but it is our job to guard all knowledge accumulated, even those that have been forgotten,” Kara shrugged, hurriedly grabbing both books. “And I thought it was important to learn of your culture. These are done in a way I’m not familiar. No one knows them and can decipher them. They don’t make sense, but they feel nice.”

“That’s exactly what a poem is.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a feeling. Metaphor. Symbolism. I don’t read much of them. Barely have time to read research let alone for pleasure,” she smiled and finally looked back at Kara from the books that’d been taken. “I’m sure it’s like your fiction or stories.”

“I will research those tomorrow,” Kara decided, gazing down at the words in her hand as she felt heavy under Lena’s glance. “Perhaps you can help me?”

“I don’t know how good I’d be at it. I’m more of a science person.”

“You have a different guild who could help me?”

“No. Well, kind of. But… Can we try to have this conversation again in the morning?” she chuckled. “I should think of a better way to explain it all.”

“You’re doing fine,” Kara pressed eagerly, wanting more information.

“Sometimes we refer to how people think by their chosen profession. So when I said I might not be good at it, I just meant my brain thinks a certain way that might not be good at poems.”

“Can’t you do both?”

“I suppose I can, we just don’t. Or rather, I don’t.”

“One of my favorite writers of stories here is a Laborer. He does both.”

“Yes, we can do both. I just meant me, personally.”

“You are a science brain?” Kara furrowed. “Perhaps you can just read it in a different way?”

“I’ll try,” Lena promised with a deep breath. “I hope every conversation doesn’t feel this hard. My brain might explode.”

“Oh Rao! Does that happen often?”

“No,” she shook her head and chuckled to herself. “Not often.”

From the door, Kara nodded deeply before tossing the books onto her bed with a renewed interest in one of them. She scratched her neck and shifted her weight awkwardly.

“Should I show you your room?” she tried. “It’s not far. I just wanted you to not feel far.”

“Yes, please.”

“Just around the corner,” Kara promised, leading the way once again. “If you  need anything, please find me. I’ll do whatever I can for you, Lena.”

“Thank you.”

“This is you,” she paused and opened the door down another hall. “I won’t distract you any longer.”

“They weren’t bad distractions.”

“Tomorrow, I make no promises.”

Both grinned at each other and stayed there longer than normal, longer than cordial, until it grew awkward with the realization that so much time had passed.

“Goodnight, Kara. Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Lena.”

For a full minute once the door was closed, Lena stood in the middle of her new home for the next year, and she felt dizzy with the idea that she was going to one day have to leave.

[gukyi]

caramel macchiato | kth

⇒ summary: you never really paid attention to the talkative kid in your college lecture, but he’s paid attention to you. 

⇒ college!au

⇒ pairing: taehyung x reader

⇒ word count: 1.5k

⇒ genre: fluff

⇒ warnings: none

⇒ a/n: this was requested probably an eon ago, but it’s finally here! no, i could not resist titling it this. every time i think of it i hear jungkook’s voice. requested by anon!

College will be fun, they said. It’ll be so much goddamn fun.

Because everyone’s definition of fun is waking up with five minutes to spare to get to your lecture after pulling an all-nighter the previous day because you had an essay due for a significantly more important class, right. That’s why college is fun, this whole scrambling out of bed thing is entertaining.

In hindsight, that all-nighter really wasn’t worth it, because your essay would be a word dumpster whether or not you actually wrote it in the holier hours of the day. You could have just left it and done it today instead, but no, 2AM you was like ‘it’s 2AM? Perfect time to crank out that essay that’s due at the end of the week!’, because this is what college actually is, random spurts of energy when everyone else is asleep which culminates in an all-nighter, less-than-substantial amounts of work actually complete, and an energy crash.

Oh, college. It’ll be fun, they said.

You inelegantly stumble around campus to get to your lecture hall in clothes that are as good as your trashy high-school pajamas, praying that you’re only running the tiniest bit late and that you’ll make it in time to catch, at least, most of the lesson. While you’re fumbling around, looking like someone drunk and hungover at the exact same time, you make eye contact with another boy in your class. You recognize him, he’s the one that always answers the professor first with the right answer, no matter the topic.

He shoots you an awkward smile, one that says ‘Hi, you’re in my class and we never speak but hello, I guess?’ and you reciprocate the action before turning your head down immediately and barreling into the lecture hall, making a beeline for your seat. Does he even recognize you? You don’t say a single thing in that class ever, preferring to keep to yourself and just copy the PowerPoint presentation silently, without question. You might as well be one of those ghost students, who just decide that mandatory attendance isn’t actually mandatory at all and elects to skip the class, over and over and over.

He, on the other hand, is extroverted and intelligent and confident and everything that Dream You wishes you could be, and you don’t even know his name.

God, you really should have not stayed up all night for an essay that wasn’t worth it, because it’s ten minutes into the lecture and all you’ve got on the notebook in front of you is a doodle of a stick figure in bed, sleeping to its heart’s content, and oh, how you wish that was you. You can barely keep your eyes open throughout the entire thing, resting your head on your hand as it perches it up, keeps you looking awake even if you don’t feel it. It would be so easy for you to just fall asleep… right here.

You will yourself to close your eyes just for a brief second as you attempt to get some desperately needed shut-eye, sleep overcoming you far too easily, but the respite is broken when your elbow slips off of the desk in front of you, slamming it into the side of the chair and making you wince in pain. Some of the people around you turn their heads to figure out the source of the noise, and you smile apologetically in return, rubbing your arm.

This day could perhaps, maybe, just possibly, not be worse.

In the end, you don’t really know what the lecture in your Anthropology class is about that day, because you spend the better half of the two hours on the verge of total shutdown, eyes drifting shut nearly every second as they beg your brain to just let you sleep, for God’s sake. You do, however, figure out that 2AM energy bursts are not to be trusted under any circumstances, and that any attempts of getting your important work done before the night before are fruitless and nothing but unrealistic dreams. Lesson learned.

You still have two classes of the day left, which is just the worst thing that could be the cherry on top of your shit cake day, especially because you were the asshole that scheduled all your classes to be practically back-to-back so you could just get them all over with. Intentions: good, execution: meh.

As you trudge out of your first lecture hall, avoiding everyone’s gaze at all costs, you can only pray to yourself that you pay attention in your next two lectures, because you won’t know what the hell to do if you don’t.

When freedom rings in the form of your middle-aged, tries-to-be-cool-by-wearing-sunglasses-inside male teacher telling your entire lecture hall to leave thirty minutes early because he has a doctor’s appointment he forgot to notify the school about, you dash out of there as fast as your legs can take you. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can get back to your bed, the sooner you can get back to your bed, the sooner you can take the much-needed and well-deserved nap you’ve been craving this whole day, and it’s only two in the afternoon.

You’re zooming through campus so quickly you practically crash into another student—just your luck, too—and find yourself toppling backwards before said student grabs onto your wrist at the last second, beating gravity in the game of ‘Will You Fall To the Ground or Not?’ and pulling you upright, albeit a bit shakily.

“I’m so sorry,” you immediately say, steadying yourself as you keep your head tilted down. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, I—”

“No, no, it’s my fault,” the voice promises you, and it’s then that you recognize it, then that you become hyperaware of the fact that even though you’re perfectly safe now, standing and still, he’s still got his hand wrapped around your wrist, soft skin meeting yours. Daring yourself to actually look up at him, it is him, the same boy from earlier today, the brilliant one who always has something to say but never lets a dumb comment leave his mouth.

“You’re in my Anthro class, aren’t you?” You ask hesitantly, pointing at him with the hand he’s still practically holding, an eyebrow raised in suspicion, praying to God that you have the right guy.

“Yeah, that’s me. I’m Taehyung, and you’re Y/N, right?”

Of course he knows you but you don’t know him, of course. That seems so typical of him, for him to just know the kids in his class like he’s known them since kindergarten, and so typical of you, for you to go an entire year without catching someone’s name even if you see them daily.

“Yes,” you confirm. “I’m really sorry,” you repeat again, taking note of the two coffee cups he’s holding in one hand, the styrofoam resting in those Starbucks cardboard carrier things. “I hope I didn’t spill anything.”

“Oh, these?” Taehyung asks, holding them up. “Actually, one of them is for you.”

“For me? Why me?” You ask, surprised as you scrunch your nose up. “We’ve never spoken before.”

“I know, I just thought you looked kind of tired in class today. I thought this might help get your energy levels up,” Taehyung says awkwardly, clenching his teeth together in a rectangular smile as he holds one out for you. “I didn’t know what you liked, so…”

“I really appreciate this, Taehyung,” you say, gently picking up the coffee and taking a sip. You immediately want to scrunch your nose up at the foam on top—you hate foam, it tastes like soap every single time you try it—but it’s the thought that counts, and this is the most thoughtful thing someone has done for you in a long time.

“Yeah, no problem,” Taehyung replies, scratching the nape of his neck as he quirks a grin. “I can give you the notes on the presentation in class today too, if you’d like.”

“Really?” Notes from the most intelligent kid in class? Sounds like a plan if you’ve ever heard one. “Thank you so much, you have no idea how much I truly appreciate this.”

“It’s no big deal,” Taehyung says, shrugging it off with a wave of his hand. “If you’re not busy right now, we could go to the coffee place and I can give them to you there.”

“The coffee place? We already have coffee,” you ask, a giggle on your lips.

Taehyung blushes red at the realization, cheeks steaming up like the coffee in his hand. “Well, we could go there anyway, if you wanted.”

“Like a date?”

“I never said that,” Taehyung says, pointing at you.

“Did you want to say it?”

Sheepishly, “yes.”

“Then sure,” you say, rocking back and forth on your feet as you beam, meeting his equally as excited smile, eyes crescents, “I’d love to do that.”

⇒ talk to me here and find my masterlist here!

#sfwbangtan #bts writing squad #bangtan bookclub #bangtanwriters-net #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #v fluff #taehyung college au #taehyung scenario #taehyung imagine #bts imagine #bts college au #bts scenario #bts oneshot #taehyung oneshot #bts drabble #taehyung drabble #THIS WAS SOFT IM SO SORRY IM SUCH A SOFT! #w: caramel macchiato

[all-about-wannaone]

2/100 Ways To Say I Love You

Pairing: Bae Jinyoung x OC (Gong Yoojung)

Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, Slice of Life

Prompt: “It reminded me of you.”

Words: 2201

A/N: Truth be told, I actually wrote 10 of these during my hiatus but I did not post any of them due to the fact that I only wrote them as a form of stress relief, but I had no time to proof read them. :( Now that my exams are over (3 days ago actually), I’m so excited to be able to write, edit and share them with all of you, Wannable or not. :) Thank you for flooding my inbox with scenario requests, written ships and just some encouraging messages. <3 You guys are truly the best and do keep looking forward to them! :) I shall stop rambling and happy reading everyone!  

The pale yellow moon hung in the night sky, with its light filtering through the trees surrounding this empty patch of grass, which was supposedly situated in the heart of Korea University. Furthermore, the moon also seemed to be nestled in a sky full of stars that winked back at me playfully.

I was never one to watch the stars, which seemed a little strange, but in a life full of glitz and glamour, it was difficult to appreciate the little things, simply because they passed by so quickly. When I was not doing anything with regards to blogging or my social life, such as attending events, I was either cooped up in the library or my dorm room studying for the upcoming examinations.

Hence, it was as if stargazing had become a breath of fresh air for me. As I observed them, I started to notice areas of the sky where the stars were birthstone blue and beautiful— all glitter in their heavenly finery. The ones far away, almost as if they were out of human comprehension, were like flashing pinpricks in a veil of darkness. They had a faint, silver tint and seemed like glittering sparks from angel fire.

It almost seemed like they were beacons of hope for the lost souls here, or so I thought, and I felt privileged to have witnessed such a phenomenon.

“It’s pretty isn’t it?”

And I turned around, only to meet the gentle gaze from my boyfriend, Bae Jinyoung. He shot me a small smile, before looking back up at the sky and said, “Aren’t you glad you came out for once? You clearly needed a breather from all that heavy biology and chemistry content. Indeed, I admire you for actually willing to study medicine, even if it was against your will.”

With that, I placed a hand behind my head, letting his words sink in, and he was right. Only God would know why I continued to stick with the study of medicine, considering that I could have done so much better in the Social Sciences. Then again, my parents owned a pharmaceutical company, and they clearly needed someone to pass the baton to when it was time. Hence, I simply had no choice but to keep up the tradition.

In fact, they would probably be disappointed if they found out about the second life that I led in the wide webisphere, lamenting and nagging endlessly about how I should spend my life doing useful things “for the benefit of the world”, they said. Given the time we spent with each other every year, there was hardly any time for us to understand one another anyway. Therefore, combined with how stubborn they were, I was not going to be surprised if I ended up disowned for things that I truly wanted to pursue.

No, I did not hate studying medicine. In fact, I did not mind it, because I had an interest in Chemistry and Biology, but there was just so much more that I wanted. I understood why I had to do this, but there were times when I wished that they could have been a little more accepting, instead of dismissing me immediately and telling me that they had no time to deal with my apparent stubbornness.

“Hey… You alright?”

And I turned around once more, only to realise that Jinyoung was way closer this time around, and our faces were merely inches away from each other. At the distance, I could not help but to feel all warm and fuzzy inside, getting a sense of comfort and feeling the tension in my shoulders and neck ease.

“W-why wouldn’t I be okay?” I stammered in response, seeing that he had probably read my mind and he sighed in response.

“I don’t know… You just seem quieter than usual today.”

I chuckled at that statement a little and said in a pretty convincing manner, “I… was just thinking about how this is my first time actually taking the time off to appreciate the things around me, especially on a rugby field that has probably become our second home. Thanks Baejin.”

He smiled at that comment bashfully and despite the dim light, it was clear enough to see that he had gotten shy too. He was rubbing his eyes a little with his free hand, and that was his way of conveying his sentiments of shyness. It was adorable, to say the least, and it definitely made one want to squeeze his adorable and soft cheeks.

We retreated back to a comfortable silence, listening to the wind as it howled over our entire being, causing the leaves in the trees to rustle. In addition, there was also the sound of crickets creaking nearby, adding on to the feeling of freedom that nature always seemed to bring.

“So…” Jinyoung asked curiously, breaking the silence, “Have you told your parents that you wanted to pursue a double degree?”

“Uhhh…”

And that was when my jar of emotions that I had been trying so hard to keep intact shattered, and I felt the bitter tears cascade down my cheek. Thankfully, the lights were dimmer than usual, and he was still looking at the stars, watching them as if his eyes twinkled along with them. Surely he would not have noticed.

“Are you… crying?”

Damn it, way to go Yoojung. You thought you could fool someone who studies Anthropology and is on his way to achieving a degree in Psychology too? What a way to think.

I sighed, chuckling a little and wiping the tears with the sleeve of my pullover while dabbing my eyes gently.

“Ha… Just when I thought I could fool a anthropologist-cum-psychologist. I guess I was wrong huh?”

I tried my best to plaster a smile on my face, but I was only reciprocated with a gaze of sadness and pity from Jinyoung, and that was when he decided to come even closer. Next, he used his strength to live me up slightly and made sure that his arms could be wrapped around me, before pulling me tighter into a warm embrace.

Yes, it was a little unromantic, but it was as if I had been protected with a blanket of warmth, shielding me from the cold reality of the world. My head was on his chest, and I could hear his steady and calm heartbeat, which definitely put me at ease for once. I took in a deep breath, but it felt as if more tears were threatening to fall at this point, and he could probably hear how hard I tried to keep myself together.

“Just let it all out.”

And so I did, for a pretty long time in fact, as I let out all the stresses and pressure that I had been carrying on my shoulders after putting in so much effort to convince my parents into letting me do what I wanted to do. At the end of the day, it was all in vain anyway, so why bother trying again?

Finally, it was as if I had managed to let most of my emotions go, drenching Jinyoung’s white shirt in the process. I apologised when I realised what I had done, of course, but he only smiled and shook his head, stroking my hair lovingly as I adjusted myself to be even closer and placed an arm on his torso.

“People usually cuddle in beds, Jung, not in the middle of a rugby field.”

I could not help but to laugh heartily at the statement (as I continued to cry the last of my tears), teasing, “Geez, who knew that this quiet master of Anthropology could have such cute and hilarious comments?”

“Aishhh… I’m not cute.” He replied and pouted, but I only gave him a kiss on the cheek, turning him once again into a beetroot.

After some time, Jinyoung broke the silence again, asking in a calm tone, “Jung, do you remember the set of succulents that I gave you?”

“Of course I do,” I scoffed, “Seonha told me of how you nearly threw it at her when you realised that I was not at home. How could I forget? I laughed till my sides hurt when I heard the story.”

He rolled his eyes and I laughed again, before he himself could no longer hold it in anymore, and the both of us ended up laughing in good spirit. My tears were already gone and I definitely felt more free after I had let go of all my emotions, even if it meant leaving Jinyoung with a translucent patch on his shoulder from my tears. Thankfully, he did not seem to mind, assuring me that the wind would take care of it.

“Anyway, why did you get me a set of succulents? I love them, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not something you give to your crush, I assume?”

“Well…” He paused, letting out an embarrassed chuckle and continued, “I g-got that for you b-b-because it reminded me of y-you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Okay, I didn’t mean for it to have that kind of association. I swear —“

“I’m just kidding, Bae, live a little. C’mon, amuse me.” I replied with a smirk and he only shook his head, thinking of the proper words to use, ensuring that it did not bring about any form of negative connotation.

“Firstly, you know how succulents and cacti survive in harsh environments with crazy temperatures such as deserts?”

“Yes genius.”

“Stop ruining the moment!” He exclaimed, trying his best to be serious, only to be reduced to a shy giggly mess.

“Like those succulents, you were a pretty tough cookie, both on the outside and the inside. You joined touch rugby, despite having no prior experience, intimidated the life out of me when I ended up at the wrong training session… In addition, you stood up against those who did not like you too much, despite you being well loved by a vast majority.”

“You stood up for me though…” I said, voice trailing off as I thought back to that one moment which I never expected a person like Jinyoung to get involved.

“I did, but what I admired about you was that you were able to put all that negativity behind and continued to pursue your interests at heart. It didn’t matter what people said, because you were going to go against the odds anyway.”

I found myself smiling little by little at Jinyoung’s words and truth be told, I had never expected those to come from someone as quiet, shy and introverted as he was. He was a man of few words, showing his love and affection through his actions rather than painstakingly trying to put together an entire monologue on how grateful he was, or how much he loved.

“Oh, and before I forget…”

“There’s more?” I asked, a little surprised that he could come up with such a long analogy for a gift of succulents. However, he was also a student from the school of the Arts and the Social Sciences, and did a short module on Philosophy. Hence, what could we not expect then?

“I’m not sure how true this is, but given the fact that cacti and succulents store water, which is also something that gives life, isn’t that you in a nutshell? You’re tough, independent, capable and yet, you are someone who, despite her prickly nature and impression, gives people life, positivity and happiness, just by your presence alone.”

“Awwww…”

Indeed, I could not help but coo as I experienced a tug of my heartstrings with his short, yet sweet words. For once, I was lost for words, and even struggled to say a word of gratitude, knowing that I would probably turn into a cloud at some point.

“T-thanks Bae. I-I really appreciate that. B-By the way, your succulents are still alive and well. They’re growing little by little, but they’re still healthy, just in case you were doubting my capabilities on taking care of such a hardy plant.”

“No, I know you would take care of it well, because underneath all that exterior is a pure and innocent girl who would not even dare to kill a fly. Indeed, I fell in love with someone who could do both; charismatic on the field, a genius in presentations and an eye for aesthetics on your blog, but just a sweet, lovable and simple girl on the inside.”

“You were a brave soul really and even Daniel warned you that I wasn’t easy. I’m surprised you kept going for it, even after knowing that I had rejected many others before you.” I replied.

He smiled at the thought and sighed, before replying and ending it off once and for all with a sweet and soft kiss on my lips.

“Perhaps they were all too scared to do so and the same went for you. Only the brave and curious would dare hug a cactus and besides, you were the girl of my dreams. Like my mother always told me— sometimes, all you have to do is muster the courage and follow your dreams.”

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#produce 101 #produce101 #broduce101 #broduce 101 #produce 101 season 2 #pd101s2 #wanna one #bae jinyoung #wanna one scenario #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagine #wanna one imagines #wanna one au #wanna one aus #bae jinyoung scenario #bae jinyoung scenarios #bae jinyoung imagine #bae jinyoung imagines #bae jinyoung au #bae jinyoung aus #kang daniel #park jihoon #lee daehwi #kim jaehwan #ong seongwoo #ong seongwu #park woojin #lai guanlin #yoon jisung #hwang minhyun

[mistressofmuses]

Holiday Special

“We have a holiday special running,” chirped the barista at the register. “If you get one of our peppermint mochas, a second one is only a dollar!”

Brenden wrinkled his nose in disgust before he even thought about it. “Er, no thanks. Does the special apply to a regular mocha?”

“Sorry, no, just the seasonal peppermint.”

“Okay, I’ll get a medium regular mocha.”

“We have peppermint stir sticks for only fifty cents.”

“No thank you. I’m just not a big fan of peppermint.”

He paid for his drink, and went to wait at the bar and look out over the café. It was crowded, with no unoccupied tables. He sighed. He didn’t have class for another hour, and no way did he want to wait outside in this awful below-freezing weather.

The man who’d been behind him in line came up next to him at the bar. Judging by the line of cups on the counter in back, they’d both be waiting for a while.

“I thought it was just me,” the other man said.

Brenden glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, assuming the other man was on the phone or something. More than once he’d acknowledged some comment from a stranger only to get a weird look and belatedly realize they had a Bluetooth receiver clipped to their ear. This stranger was cute, dressed for the weather, yet looking like he’d stepped out of a fashion spread, with a black wool coat perfectly tailored to him, and red scarf artfully draped over his shoulders. Definitely the type who might have an earpiece.

“That disliked peppermint, I mean,” The stranger clarified. “This time of year is practically torture.”

“Oh,” Brenden replied, blinking. “Yeah, it’s all but unavoidable, isn’t it?”

“Tell me about it,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Suddenly everything has to have a candy cane in it. Perfectly self-respecting mochas, brownies, sugar cookies, ice cream, for heaven’s sake. All of them suddenly adulterated with peppermint.”

Brenden laughed.

“I’m Ryan, by the way,” the other man stuck a hand out.

Brenden took it. Ryan’s hand was warmer than his. “Brenden,” he introduced himself.

“Come to this coffee shop often?” Ryan asked, brushing his bangs to the side.

“Not real often,” Brenden said. “Just when the bus schedule and my classes don’t sync up quite right. It’s a nice spot to kill a few minutes out of the cold. My classes don’t start until 3:00 today.”

“Ah, you’re a student?” Ryan asked. “I’ve been thinking about maybe taking a few classes. I wanted to take a year off after high school, but then I got a job, and a year turned into, well, a lot more than that.”

Ryan certainly didn’t look like he’d been out of high school “a lot more than” a year. He looked about Ryan’s age, just an extremely well-put-together twenty instead of a self-described-disaster twenty. Must have been a damn good job he’d gotten.

“Regular mocha!” a barista called out, setting the drink on the counter.

A second barista almost immediately called out, “Cinnamon latte, extra whip!” and set that one down next to Brenden’s mocha.

Ryan picked up the cinnamon latte and then gestured to a table across the room. “Look, a table opened up. We could grab it before anyone else swoops in.”

“Er, sure,” Brenden said, picking up his mocha and following Ryan to the table. It made sense to share the table, considering how packed the café still was. Sharing with someone you’d at least said ‘hi’ to was a bit better than having to ask a complete stranger if you could sit next to them.

Brenden set his bag and his coat on the other empty chair at the table, not wanting them to touch the ground, which had snowmelt all over it. He prepared to dig out a book to read to pass the time.

But to his surprise, Ryan didn’t immediately pull out his phone or a book of his own or something else to pay attention to. He had a notebook with him, but he just set it down. Instead he looked at Brenden and asked, “So what are you studying in your classes? Let me guess… business major, maybe?”

“Nothing so practical, I’m afraid…” And then Brenden was explaining his weird decision to major in literature and minor in both anthropology and world history. “It’s awful!” he said with a laugh. “I know I’m condemning myself to a future of teaching, but I can’t help it, because I love the subjects so much, I just keep adding more classes.”

“Isn’t that a good thing, then?” Ryan asked. “If you love the subjects, you’re the one who should be teaching them, don’t you think? Your far-off-future students will be glad for a little enthusiasm.”

Ryan brushed his bangs to the side again, and took a sip of his latte. He was clearly waiting for Brenden to reply, and Brenden found himself a little tongue-tied. He was used to people—strangers, acquaintances, and friends alike—seeming almost disappointed in him for his choices. Usually this was the point in a conversation where he said something self-deprecating, or laughed about how impractical he was being.

“I guess I never really gave it that much thought,” Brenden admitted. “Everyone just tells me that that’s what I’m doing—condemning myself to being unsuited for anything except teaching—like it’s a bad thing, so I just sort of resigned myself to it. Not many people rushing to hire lit majors for anything else.”

“I mean, if you hate the idea of teaching, of course you should aim for something else, but don’t let some snide jerk convince you that it’s a terrible fate. You love the subjects; teaching other people to love them too doesn’t sound like the worst thing to me.”

“That’s a fair point,” Brenden said. And it was. He really had been thinking of teaching as something he was going to somehow be forced into, like a sad fallback plan, as if it wasn’t a worthy goal in and of itself. When his high-end event-planning brother and his environmental scientist sister sighed and shook their heads at him, he’d just accepted that he was the flighty slacker sibling.

He shook his head and broke out of his thoughts. “How about you?” he asked Ryan, acutely aware that he’d been the topic of conversation for far too long at this point. “You come to this café often?”

The alarm on Brenden’s phone went off, alerting him that he had twenty-five minutes until class started, and he needed to get going. He tapped the snooze button, buying himself an extra three minutes.

“Not really,” Ryan answered. “It was just a whim today. I’m usually not even over in this part of town. I just had an errand, and was really craving some caffeine. Glad I did.”

“Yeah, this café is pretty good,” Brenden said. “Outrageous number of peppermint holiday specials aside.”

Ryan smiled and took another sip of his latte. “At least peppermint season isn’t forever. Did you have to go?” He glanced pointedly at Brenden’s phone.

“Nah, I’m good for a few more minutes,” he said. Then Ryan wrote something in his notebook, and he worried that Ryan had been trying to hint to him that they should part ways. His brain struggled to find something else to ask Ryan to justify those extra few minutes. “So if you were going to go to school for something, what classes would you take?”

Ryan laughed and tore out the page he’d written on. “Oh, probably something wildly impractical, like literature.”

Brenden laughed along with him.

“Maybe you could tutor me,” Ryan said, grinning. “Since I’m a few years out of practice with academics.”

“It’d give me some practice for my inevitable teaching career,” Brenden said, stroking his chin in mock-thoughtfulness.

His snoozed alarm lit his phone back up, as it rang and vibrated across the table. He sighed, genuinely regretting that he had to break off the conversation. Ryan was nice to talk to, and just unfairly attractive. It wasn’t the kind of opportunity that Brenden had every day. “I really do have to get going,” he said apologetically, swiping the alarm off. “Or I’ll be late.” 22 minutes would already be cutting it close.

“No problem. I hope I didn’t take up too much of your time,” Ryan said. “It was good to talk to you.” Ryan stood up too, and handed Brenden his coat.

“Thanks. I hope you do decide to take some classes.”

“Thank you. And I hope you have good luck with yours.”

As Brenden rushed out into the cold outside air, he jammed his hands into his pockets. It was a shame he was unlikely to see Ryan again, since he admitted that he was never on this end of town.

His fingers brushed a folded piece of paper, which didn’t feel like a receipt. He pulled it out, and read the note below the phone number written on it.

I was hoping you’d ask for my number, but you didn’t take the hint, and I’m giving it to you anyway. Read between the lines, lit-major! And call me sometime. –Ryan

~

@yourbookcouldbegayer

Prompt was: "Your characters meet at a coffee shop and bond over their shared hatred of peppermint flavored drinks. When they leave, one of the characters is pretty sure they’ll never see the other person again, but guess whose number they find in their pocket?”

Managed to get this one done mostly in the morning before work! It’s another meet-cute, kinda like day 1, but since I never get to write purely fluffy things like this, I enjoyed indulging in it. Even though I love peppermint. 

#day5ofgay #lgbtq+ fiction #genre: slice of life #rating: pg #gay character #my writing #short fiction #original fiction #holigays 2017

[danganronpa-21]

Hope you don't mind me asking. I'm just curious. What exactly are your problems with Kiyo (besides him being a killer), Kokichi (besides him being basically a killer), and V3 as a whole?

Honestly, sometimes I forget that my opinions are on public display like that on my Amino/Instagram. Especially the Amino ones, cause those are sort of out of date.

Anyway, thanks for asking this question!

I do want to preface this by saying a little something though: My takes on V3 should not be taken as 100% valid! Why, you may ask? Well... confession time, I haven’t played all V3. At the time it came out, I was harshly disinterested. Rather than experiencing it for myself, I chose to read up on it and learn what happened for myself. I’ve never been someone who’s particularly bothered by spoilers (much to the chagrin of literally everyone I’ve ever known), so I didn’t think anything of it at the time. And when I looked in to it, I didn’t like what I read and thought that it was good that I didn’t bother playing it for myself. I felt this way for a long time, rejecting all V3 things, until eventually I was lovingly bullied in to picking up the game myself. So while there are aspects of V3 I have experienced beyond my readings, it’s not done in full for me at all yet, so there could be several gaps in my knowledge or just my feelings. Please don’t take everything I say as my one and only interpretation, because it’s true that many of the feelings I express in my answer could be subject to change. I recognize that these takes aren’t valid because I haven’t experienced the game in full. It’s the same as when someone criticizes Danganronpa 3 without having seen it themselves: sure, you know how it’s written so you have some thoughts on it... but it’s still best to experience it yourself to formulate your own opinions. That’s what I’m intending to do, but I haven’t gotten around to it fully yet... because it’s an experience I’m hoping to share, if I play my cards right.

Really though, if I am to explain the offences I have at the current level of V3 I am on, I would say that each of these three aspects of V3 are explained… probably more simplistically than one would expect. I see a lot of people who have these in-depth reasons as to why they feel so strongly about a certain aspect of Danganronpa, and while I can be that person sometimes… here, not so much. 

Besides being a killer, honestly Korekiyo just makes me uncomfortable. Like even beyond the incest thing, there’s something about him that absolutely puts me off. I tried watching his Free Time Events to see if I could stir up some love for him, but I found myself making any excuse to stop every five minutes. I can’t say that I like his design or his mannerisms, and his voice actor communicates Korekiyo’s creepiness well… but I couldn’t find it in me to get past to what some people would refer to as the softer, sweeter aspects of Kiyo. Even the anthropologist element couldn’t save Kiyo for me, and I honestly thought it might. I’ve taken a few anthropology classes myself and I think the topic in itself is interesting enough. However, hearing Kiyo talk about it just either felt boring or off-putting, and I can’t say that I one hundred percent know exactly why that I ended up feeling that way. I suppose it’s fair to say that anthropology is a rather broad topic, and that what Kiyo spoke of in his FTEs wasn’t exactly my point of interest. But if you jump away from the anthropological aspect of Korekiyo, I’m with the majority in saying that the incest thing just made me flat out uncomfortable. 

At this point you could absolutely argue that it’s unfair of me to slander Korekiyo for being incesty if another character I love is Kanon Nakajima, a girl who has extreme and obsessive romantic feelings for her first cousin. However, I would justify myself in saying that the primary reason why Kanon works for me and Korekiyo doesn’t all boils down to other aspects of character. Do I think it’s creepy the way Kanon talks about and acts around Leon? Yes, of course. But the thing about Kanon is that she manages to utilize her other traits to become likeable in spite of it. She has all kinds of other quirks and traits that exist outside of being Leon’s creepy cousin who’s in love with him. Her whole presence as a character isn’t for the sake of being chilling, whereas I find much of Korekiyo’s character is to be weird and unnerving. It’s easier to get behind Kanon because I feel like she’s not just madly in love with Leon, but rather has other parts to her existence that are meant to make her realistic outside of it. Korekiyo, while he does have additional character traits, seems to be crafted with the intention of being creepy. 

I also know that at this point some people would want to argue that I’ve judged Korekiyo all wrong because his sister manipulated him into loving her and he’s actually an abuse victim, and I won’t dispute them. Do I agree with them? I can’t say, because the interpretation itself is just that: interpretation. Just because another interpreted it that way doesn’t mean that I will interpret something the same way, and so on and so forth. But even the line between “is Korekiyo an abuse victim or not” is something that puzzles me, because otherwise, the wrong person could boil it down to the question of Korekiyo stooping down to the level of his abusive sister by manipulating and murdering Tenko and Angie (and just to be clear, this question is not something that I personally believe). And even if maybe that seems like a far-fetched interpretation that someone could draw, the suggestion that an abuse victim will turn out like their abuser makes me undeniably frustrated. It would send a message that I don’t feel is appropriate in the slightest, and play in to the fear that many real life abuse victims have. 

All in all, the way Korekiyo was constructed just doesn’t have what I would call the “Koto appeal”. They simply had a different Danganronpa player in mind when they were designing him, and that’s perfectly fine. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with liking Korekiyo, he’s just very far from my cup of tea.

Something like Kokichi, I would say.

Kokichi already gets a hard time from me because honestly… I don’t find I like characters who are just out to make the player’s life harder. It’s not even a “i’m bad at video games” thing, it’s just that I genuinely find myself frustrated with characters like Byakuya and Nagito sometimes because I’m just trying to do my job, how dare you be trying to screw me up, you little shit!

So he’s already got beef with me right there, especially being the one that’s so much more challenging to fight against than the others. The dude’s high jacking entire trials and you just have to sit there with an “I guess this happening” expression as you try to work out the problem. I already play Danganronpa on gentle because something about the game just makes my inner potato brain skyrocket to like 500%, so Kokichi is kind of a pain in the ass for me. Which I get he’s supposed to be, but I don’t like it. 

His character relationships don’t help me, either. While I am fully aware that it’s all an act, the insensitivity is still harmful to the people around him. Yes, he does have this put on for the sake of fulfilling this plan of his and preventing the others from mourning him when he eventually does die. Unfortunately that plan in itself is a problem for me too though, after seeing a fan reconstruction of his plot to avoid the deaths of Gonta and Miu. Which even if it was a necessary sacrifice, makes Kokichi feel slightly more cruel to me -- although I know some may think that it shouldn’t. The behaviour still just sits badly with me, not to mention that even if you consider the inklings of Kokichi being a good guy… I don’t feel as if I can say with confidence really anything about him. Which again falls back on to a personal writing problem with me, because I am entirely an audience who likes to know things. That’s part of the reason why I write fankid fic: because there are things that I like to know that Kodaka will not confirm nor deny for me. So I took matters in to my own hands in hopes of satisfying both myself and others with where things will go. But if I don’t feel like I know Kokichi and my only evidences of him are of him being a jerk, it doesn’t lead me to like him very much.

Which is also what throws me for a loop with Danganronpa V3 as a whole, actually! All of the end revelations got me pretty badly in the sake that I have a vague notion of things that they showed me pregame, but otherwise there’s a lot that the game leaves unanswered. I mean, on the flipside, there’s absolutely evidence that everything we got to see was true… But until I know, I have trouble enjoying V3 totally. 

Plus, it also just contains my least favourite cast. I still like some of them, but there are more that I either don’t like or don’t care about. As you mentioned before, I’m not excited about Korekiyo or Kokichi. And maybe I just don’t know anything about them yet, but I’m not terribly interested in Kirumi, Ryoma, Tenko, or Rantaro. I have a little bit of love for characters like Himiko, Gonta, and Tsumugi. And to be fair, I do like Kaede, Kaito, Kiibo, Miu, Maki, and Shuichi a decent amount. But still, compare that to games like Danganronpa 1 where the only character I actively dislike is Hifumi... then it just comes out as my least favourite. Even with Super Danganronpa 2, I have a sort of dislike-like for characters like Nagito and Kazuichi. I don’t completely dislike them in the same way I do some of the characters in V3. 

Really, though, I know all of this is stuff that I personally think about V3 is subject to change. After awhile of straight up disliking it and refusing to play it like the stubborn child that I am, I do fully intend to commit myself to the game and maybe change some of my opinions along the way. Sure, it’s fine for me to have some of this opinions and ideas based off of what I do know, but ultimately I know it’s something I have to experience for myself for my take on it to be actually valid.

Hopefully if I can work out the things I need to try and work out, you guys might even be able to watch me experience it for the first time... but that all depends on how well my computer can handle running the appropriate programs simultaneously. Fingers crossed, though!

#danganronpa v3 #Let’s Chat with Koto

[sanctferum]

Dangan Ronpa chapter 3 freetime part 2!

Here we go. Himiko’s free time event! …I can’t trigger it. I’ll try again next chapter, assuming she’s alive then. Gonna try Gonta or Angie, or maybe Kiyo.

I’ll go for Angie. There’s too much detail paid to how her lab locks and on which doors are which locks. She has a good chance of dying this chapter. …Nope, can’t get a free time event from her either. Kiyo, then?

Kiyo time! The difference between anthropology, archeology, and history…History is records, archeology is items, and anthropology is folklore and customs. Customs and superstitions can only come into being in places where they can be shared amongst people…Shuichi doesn’t get it, though.

When Kiyo thinks of a kappa, and when Shuichi thinks of a kappa, they aren’t the same creature. Monsters originally were formless – people’s superstitions and emotions given shape are what much of today’s mythologies are composed of. Culture changes, and so does the form a kappa takes…

Now let’s use our next free time event to check in with Keebo! Nope, looks like we really can’t hang out with anyone who’s on the student council…that leaves Kaito, Miu, Kiyo, and Kokichi. I doubt Maki is ready to hang out with us.  We’ve already gotten all of Kokichi’s events, so let’s go chill with Kaito.

Kaito claims to be busy…he looks preoccupied with what happened this morning. Fine. FINE. I’ll hang out with Miu, and give her this stupid groper tentacle from Ultra Despair Girls. She better not turn me down to pay attention to the computer…

OK, she’s pissed off about the Student Council, but calms down enough to accept a present. Here, have a pervy item!

Miu decides she’s gonna devote her time to “Poo-ichi”, as she has been calling Shuichi since the beginning…Shuichi starts to wonder if this is actually a good idea. He gets dragged to the Ultimate Inventor Lab, despite his protests. She immediately starts showing off her inventions. Like this sensor! Which senses something, right? It’s…it’s called the “Hookup Counter”…an invention to try and determine how many people you’ve had sex with. Rather than tell Shuichi what her sensor said about him, she gets her next invention out. An arm with a boxing glove…Shuichi, you might wanna duck, I think this invention is gonna sock you in the face.

It’s the “Auto-Puncher that Punches You For Telling Terrible Dirty Jokes”. Nevermind, if that socks anyone, it’s gonna hit Miu…it has a description for a name cause she was too lazy to come up with a good name for it. She compares naming every invention she makes to if Shuichi felt the need to name every sperm cell he shoots off while beating the meat. Then the auto-puncher socks her in the fucking face. It works after all! Hooray!

A…good punch? Are you a masochist? Actually, don’t answer that?

One more invention! Shuichi sounds absolute delighted to hear that. By which I mean he sounds like he would very much like to be somewhere else right now.

A ray gun. A sci-fi ray gun. OK.

Oh no, even worse. It’s a gun that teleports underwear off the person it hits. The “Going Commando” gun. Well, at least we aren’t teleporting bread.

Why can the gun only teleport underwear anyways? Actually I still don’t want an answer to these questions.

Incredible technology! That she is wasting on underwear. Good fucking grief, skip the rest of your character arc and just go make millions in the sex toy industry already.

Miu looks like she’s about to cry after Shuichi calls her inventions odd, she he lies and says they look pretty cool.

What kind of fun are you talking about, Shuichi? ;)

OK she bounced back pretty quick.

I don’t think she meant testing her inventions on you. Especially with the word “blow” involved.

Wow that event was super awkward.

Evening, and the Monokub announcement is here! Monotaro got KO’d by Monodam as punishment for some misstep or other, so only Monophanie is here. The Monokubs will be taking a break from announcements…but the announcements will still happen! That’s Monokuma’s new job! He’s still catatonic, though, so…

Kaito did not look well last we saw him. Will we still be training tonight? Well, the doorbell is ringing, so…I’m guessing it’s someone else besides Kaito. Maki?

It is Maki! Kaito says he’s not feeling well…we should train without him, he says.

Shuichi and Maki train together, and as they do…Maki asks Shuichi why he’s training. A detective doesn’t need to do this…but when Shuichi is with Kaito, it’s like all that stuff about the problems here and what he needs to do just fades away. Shuichi goes on to describe why Kaito, while no role model, is exactly the kind of friend he needed.

100 pushups again way before Shuichi was done. Maki is really good at this.

“I used to be forced to do push-ups until I passed out. 100 pushups is nothing.” Uh. Are we gonna find out about Maki’s past? I wonder how much of her orphanage backstory is real…

Maki thinks Kaito is useless. But in a way…she’s…jealous of him. He has all these strange little things about him, but Maki? What you see from Maki is what there is. Anything else – anything superficial, anything nonessential – she lost. She was forced to lose. She was forced to lose all the things that make people human, so “they” could mold her as they saw fit. Even now, she can’t be sure of what she really is…she didn’t want this life. But she had no say in the matter. And now…she’s more of a robot than Keebo, and he’s a literal robot. But even he acts more human than Maki does. But…she had no choice, because…

At this point she clams up again. Shuichi talks a bit about how he never wanted to be a detective. Uncovering people’s secrets for money…it’s not what he wanted. But…in this situation…he has friends relying on him. If it can help the others, he’ll do as much detective work as he needs to. Without Kaede and Kaito, he would have been lost…it was his interactions with them that opened his eyes.

Maki doesn’t care about his story and walks away. Shuichi goes back to pushups, still worried about Kaito.

Maki returns to the dorms to find the Student Council all assembled there. They’re here to make sure none of the others go out at night. Monokuma’s regulations permit people to go out at night, but after Kirumi’s crime…it might be best if that stopped.

Maki thinks that the Student Council is trying to take away the other Ultimates’ freedom of movement.

Atua wishes for the school to be more peaceful, so-

Tenko interrupts Angie to speak bluntly: People are afraid of Maki. That’s why the Student Council is here.

Fade to black…

Monodam theater! Humans start out as invalids and end up as invalids. In the end, an old person can only do as much as a baby. Humans are pointless. End theater.

Monokuma announcement: silence from Monokuma, then the monitor turns off. Good morning, guys! Let’s go eat breakfast.

Kokichi’s in the dorm hall, hungry, but also sad that he can’t eat Kirumi’s cooking anymore.

Outside, on the way to the dining hall, is Maki, and a bit closer to the dining hall, Kiyo. Maki asks if Shuichi is OK, then tells him not to worry about it when he has no idea what she’s referring to. It turns out to be the Student Council thing from last night. Maki is barred from walking around at night. Maki warns Shuichi to be careful that Angie doesn’t seize too much power, or else those not on the Student Council will end up with fewer and fewer freedoms.

Shuichi decides that the situation needs to be dealt with, lest the group end up being torn in half.

Kiyo wants Shuichi’s help with cleaning his lab. We agree to help him later on, and Shuichi observes that Kiyo’s been a bit obsessed with seances ever since discovering the Caged Dog book and artifact.

Inside the academy, Miu is very tired. She stayed up all night figuring out stuff about the weird computer on the 4th floor.

Groin muscles? Um. What. What are you making the computer do, exactly…?

Let’s. Um. Go into the dining hall and oh what the hell is this.

Kaito versus Atua…I mean, Angie. Oh boy.

Kokichi was hoping for some discord in the group…he doesn’t like boring things. Asshat.

Kiyo believes depending on a god is a sign of a corrupted mind. There’s only one thing that can be fully depended on…oursel- er, that’s, what? Love? Excuse me? That’s not what I expected from Kiyo…

Why so mad, Kaito? Is it cause they treated Maki like a potential blackened?

Oh fuck. The Student Council blocked off the underground passageway in the name of preparing to stay here forever. Until Gonta can be convinced to take the boulders he put on the manhole off, we can’t access the escape passage.

Angie…knew exactly what to say to get Shuichi to shut up. She also brainwashed half the remaining students…she’s a dangerous one, that’s for sure.

Leaving the decision to Atua is just leaving the decision to Angie, who can claim Atua said whatever and they have no way of refuting her.

After Tsumugi explains why they didn’t listen to everyone’s opinions, Angie hugs her like she did Himiko and Gonta. Is that part of the brainwashing trick? But, Tsumugi already is following Angie…

Tsumugi asks when she can meet Atua…is that foreshadowing? Is she gonna die?

Yeah, this is a bad situation.

With the pretense of being worried that the others harbor thoughts of escape still, the Student Council grabs more power. It’s not just Maki, now. No one but the Student Council members can walk around at night. Angie claims that there’s an exception for the Student Council members cause none of them want to leave anymore anyways.

Someone on the Student Council is lying, I’m sure of it. Possibly Angie herself. I haven’t forgotten Celeste’s case from Dangan Ronpa 1…she was the one who forbid walking around at night, and who urged everyone to adapt. And it turned out she was the most desperate to escape. (Except possibly Sayaka?)

Kaito, though. Kaito wants to escape. If he lives here forever, he will never be able to go to space. Before he can continue, the Kubs show up. Right. Fighting is not allowed. And in order for us to get even closer to each other...Monodam presents…a flashback light! But before anyone can use it, Angie grabs it and breaks it on the floor. The Student Council has decided that flashback lights are now banned. By which we mean, Angie has decided. What do people who are gonna stay here forever and ever need with outside memories?

Without the flashback light, whatever the Kubs plan is cannot proceed. Monodam is freaked out enough that he leaves without another word, and the other two follow him.

The non-Student Council members are outraged. Angie then says she has a plan for the resurrection ritual. The more friends here, the less people will want to escape.

Another time limit motive would be bad…so her plan for the ritual is…in that scenario, have the resurrected person die as a sacrifice so the other people can survive. Angie…you’ve been here in Monokuma’s academy too long. You’re starting to think like him…or like Kaede ended up thinking…either way…

Kaito brings up that the Necronomicon is a motive for the killing game. Shuichi notes that Kaito is looking worse and worse by the moment…

Angie is planning to bring back Rantaro, because “Atua says so”. Kaede and Kirumi killed. Angie refuses to bring them back. And Ryoma was a criminal who broke the group’s rule about not sharing motive videos. Rantaro would be the only one of use to the Student Council…

Shuichi can’t begin to grasp how nuts all of this is, and any attempt to do so is interrupted by Angie deciding to gather the Council and depart to start the ritual.

Atua’s will…Angie’s will…they’re the same thing. Either Angie is right and Atua channels himself through Angie, or, more likely, Angie is making up what Atua is or isn’t saying. This situation is bad.

Kokichi is eager to fight the Student Council. He starts to order Maki to kill them off, but Shuichi won’t hear of it, obviously. And all this time, Kaito is not looking good.

Kokichi wants to go to war. But he doesn’t want Rantaro to be brought back. I dunno how genuine he is about anything, let alone wanting to resurrect Kaede. I’d think he’d rather resurrect Kirumi.

He talks about an anime about a death game, where the mastermind sacrificed a family member to get the killing started. Is it called “Danganronpa: The Animation” by any chance? I’ve seen that one. It’s good but Trigger Happy Havoc is better. Oh well, adapations don’t always work out. The Princess Bride is a rare exception.

Rantaro could’ve been working for the mastermind…that’d explain how he knew about the secret door, if he was the one disturbed the card reader dust. He seemed almost at ease with the situation, like he was used to it. Still, I have a strong doubt about that.

Maki of all people is asking if there’s a peaceful resolution to this possible…but she doubts there is. So if there are two sides, why not remove one of them? Well, she doesn’t want to kill anyone. It’s just an option from the kind of world she’s from…

Miu’s just happy that the resurrected student will be first in line to die instead of her. Girl, what the fuck.

Kaito just has a chill. Nothing wrong here. Hey Kokichi, call him out on this obvious lie, will ya?

Kaito can’t stop the chills running through his body? Did someone poison him or something? I’m not so sure he was lying about that, now…

Shuichi still want to escape this place, with everyone. Kaede’s wish…Shuichi has to do something.

Free Time…who can we even hang out with? I wonder…yes! We CAN hang out with Maki! Dunno if we can get her Free Time events, but I’m gonna try!

What would she even like? I…I have no idea. I’m gonna give her random shit and see what happens.

Many resets later…she apparently liked the beret item. It’s red, true, but…

Shuichi questions Maki over her assassin talent. Maki states that assassination organizations would disband once people knew about them. Does she work alone then? Who’s the “they” she mentioned before?

The Holy Salvation Society…the assassin organization and cult that Maki belongs to. Wait, so one of the non-Student Council members is a part of a cult, but a different one than Atua’s?

It sounds more like a mafia to me, the way Maki is describing it. But apparently, the cult part is just as real as the actual assassination part that the cult is a front for. Except that most believers are “in” on the truth. But there are some who have no idea.

The founder and boss of the Holy Salvation Society doesn’t believe in God, at least not in private. And yet, he and his cronies haven’t been punished for it, or for killing people. That’s why Maki believes God doesn’t exist.

Maki and her fellow assassins are as devout as the boss. Aka, not at all. She’s affiliated with the cult, but not a cultist herself. The assassins don’t interact with each other often…so much for any friends there. And when the time comes, an assassin will have…outlived their usefuleness. And Maki? Maki just accepts that’s how life is. That’s how it works. Even if it means she could one day be betrayed and killed by them. I don’t know the details on how the cult raised Maki other than the pushups part, but they really fucked her up in the head…

Kiyo, Maki, Miu…with Kokichi finished last chapter, and Kaito feeling sick, those are our choices. I’ll go with Maki again.

This time the topic is the weapons in the Ultimate Assassin Lab. Depending on the situation, different weapons are useful. Maki knows how to use all weapon types, in case she needs a particular tool for the job. There’s lots of weapons. Knives, poison, sniper rifles, martial art techniques, bombs…the bombs are used when you’re making it extra clear that the target did something your client did not want them to do. With a blast like that, there’s no mistaking it as something other than a warning to others – don’t do that, or you’ll be next. Maki’s taken out entire building floors before with bombs. Usually, though, that isn’t necessary.

As I figured, assassins in real life (well, video game real life, which according to a theory I have isn’t even that) are no secret heroes. They kill good people or bad people, no questions asked. Who the person is doesn’t matter at all. Orders are orders, and business is business. Maki’s killed many people without learning more about who they were than it took to come up with an assassination plan. But she’s also had to kill people she knew well…including people she considered friends. A yakuza leader’s daughter, whose mother had no connections to the mafia. The yakuza’s elites knew of her father’s love for her daughter, decided that it could cause problems if a rival gang kidnapped her or something, and just…got Maki to get rid of the problem. And so, a friend from school died. According to a local religious group, it was an act of God…that religious group was, of course, Maki’s organization. But Maki doesn’t believe in acts of God, and she has no intention of blaming others for what she has done. And yet it was after killing her friend from school that she realized not just what her life had become, but that it would keep being this way. And so…she did what she had to to survive. And she believes her victims did the same, until it was no longer possible. She is a killer. She kills. But she’s all too aware that she can be killed too.

Night-time already. After the Monokuma announcement, in which Monokuma is still as catatonic as ever, we go to check up on Kaito, see how he’s dealing with Angie’s curfew. But before we can even ring the doorbell, the door opens and Maki steps out. What?

She looks mad, and Kaito, who thankfully isn’t dead or anything, still looks awful…he hasn’t been able to eat or sleep since yesterday. He’s skipping training tonight. He’s about to figure out what to reschedule the training session to, when Maki stops him. No rescheduling, Angie and the Council be damned.

Kaito’s training made Maki think. It made her think about how to confront “it”. Her enemy? Her past? Her employers? She leaves to train alone.

Kaito must be really unwell to not be opposing Angie and her chumps…

Outside, Shuichi tries to explain that Kaito is sick to Maki. Maki turns around to face him…and the face she’s making is not a good one. She’s glaring at him, looking almost murderous. No, not at him. Past him. At Tenko.

Tenko refuses to back down, but it’s clear she’s terrified of Maki. Maki says she doesn’t want to fight Tenko, and that she thinks Tenko is here for some reason other than enforcing the curfew. She wants to ask Maki for a favor. A personal favor.

Tenko doesn’t sound brainwashed…now that I think about it, she wasn’t as enthusiastic as the others in praising Angie and Atua, and we didn’t see her get hugged by Angie. But if she wasn’t brainwashed, why did she join the Student Council? Because Himiko did?

Tenko praised Atua before, but she confesses now that she could never believe in him for real. The only thing she can believe in is Aikido.

Yeah, she’s in the cult to try and save Himiko, as I thought.

Himiko doesn’t like to spend energy. And thinking for yourself costs energy. But Tenko knows that Angie is dangerous.

Angie believes in Atua. That’s no lie. She thinks she’s Atua’s vessel. It’s not that she’s using Atua as a convenient excuse…it’s that she’s attributing everything she does to the will of Atua. Which means she’s always perfectly blameless and can do no wrong.

But to ask Maki for a favor…does she want Maki to kill Angie?

She does. But just because she wants Angie dead doesn’t mean she’s gonna take action that will kill Angie. That’d be murder, plain and simple.

She wants Maki to stop Angie. The resurrection ritual is dangerous. Very very dangerous. We still haven’t learned what exactly Angie needs to do…

Angie must be stopped.

Shuichi is included in this request? Despite being a degenerate male? Damn, Tenko is desperate. She has no one else she can turn to. Kokichi would tell the Student Council to stir up trouble. Kiyo is creepy, Miu is Miu, Kaito is sick. It’s up to us.

And so we head to Angie’s lab, where she is no doubt dead already. No one in the entrance hall of the school. The coast is cle- oh hi there Kokichi. Fuck, we’re busted.

Tenko says she rounded us up since we were walking around at night. You don’t need to be Kokichi to see that the way she gives this statement is very suspicious. Lying to Kokichi won’t end well…but he apparently has his own schemes, and after subtly letting the group know he knows that it was a lie, he departs, supposedly to bed.

Let’s see who is dead here…my bet is still on Angie.

The door is locked. Maki starts pounding on it vigorously. But Angie won’t open the door for someone else unless they’re a fellow Student Council member. Tenko, you’re up!

Angie recognizes Tenko’s voice…which means she’s currently alive. Huh.

We step into the lab, to see…statues. Realistic statues of four people. Four dead people.

Is the ritual supposed to use these statues to create new bodies for the dead?

Oh, not statues. Wax effigies. An effigy is needed for the ritual…

Monokuma’s motive…but, it wasn’t. It was Monodam’s motive, right?

The effigies are almost an exact representation of the deceased. The only thing that’s different is that they have no trace of a soul about them.

“A soul, desperate to live, struggling, fighting for life…that’s something that can never be replicated. No matter what technology you have, you can’t fake a soul.” If my theory holds any water, you yourself might not have a soul, Shuichi.

Angie is forced to accept the truth. They’re dead.

…which means that the ritual IS needed for them to come back! Dammit Angie…

Maki tries to make Angie understand that this isn’t Atua’s will, it’s her own. Angie does not believe her at all.

No point in talking…so then…Maki, do you have a plan? One that does not involve killing Angie?

Shuichi, Tenko, and Maki are forced to give up for now. No progress, and now Angie knows Tenko is a spy. Himiko shows up as well. Angie dismisses Tenko’s betrayal as “nothing”. I expected her to turn Himiko against Tenko, to be honest.

Tenko grabs Himiko, trying to make her remember herself. The Himiko that proudly called herself a mage, the Himiko that thought her own thoughts. If she can’t tell she’s been brainwashed, then Himiko is no true mage.

Himiko is mad, but you wouldn’t guess so by her expression. It’s the same as always…except Himiko is refusing to look Tenko in the eye. Well, this sucks.

Back at the dorms, Tenko has a meltdown over saying awful things to Himiko. Maki suggests Shuichi teach Tenko how to apologize properly, but Himiko says she’ll use her own words to do so. Someone is dying from this, and it’s either Angie, Tenko, or Himiko…there’s no way this will end well.

Shuichi decided to think of some other, less orthodox way to stop Angie. I mean, I’d suggest destroying the effigies, but I don’t think Shuichi would be able to destroy Kaede’s…Maki says she’ll think about some other ways of doing something about the situation. Everyone returns to their rooms.

Monodam theater, featuring Monodam as ET. Monodam attributes his determination to make everyone get along to a past life as a fish who was bullied in a human school.

Morning! Time to see who’s dead today! Oh, and there’s the doorbell. Tenko? Maki? Kaito?

It’s Maki. And soon after, Kaito.

“Maki Roll” is a cute nickname. I dunno if she’ll appreciate it though. Yeah, she doesn’t. Anyways, Shuichi and Maki are gonna go stop the ritual. Kaito is their backup plan.

So that’s why Kaito has been so sick…he’s been scared this whole time. Terrified…of the dead. He does have “the occult” listed as a dislike in his profile, so fair enough.

He was scared so bad he didn’t even go to training. Maki is less than impressed. Kaito always acts unafraid of anything, but he has one thing he is scared of. Terrified of.

Maki is upset that Kaito thinks she’s weak. Kaito, of all people! The person who’s shitting himself over ghost stories!

Angie isn’t in her room.

Well, time to see who’s dead! I’m still thinking it’s gonna be Angie.

Good morning, Kiyo! And Tenko! Tenko has been looking for Himiko. She’s missing, huh? RUH-ROH.

Himiko is outside the art lab. Is someone dead inside?

Well, there’s been no response from inside the lab, no matter how much Himiko calls for Angie. Things really are not looking good for her chances of not being dead at this very instant, huh?

Both doors are locked. How are both doors locked? One of the keys was eaten by Monodam.

Someone’s inside, right? (Probably not someone besides Angie’s corpse. I bet there’s a third way of the room.)

Kokichi you little shit, where’d you come from? Oh right, he can pick locks. And he seems way too excited. He must at the very least suspect someone is dead, if not outright already know about it.

Shuichi is fearing the worse, and is panicking. And rightfully so, my boy! Angie’s no doubt dead. There’s like a 95% chance she’s dead.

We open the door, and…someone has hung the manikins upside down by their feet. And on the floor…is something. Something that raises that 95% chance to 100%. And honestly, as someone who was getting sick of Angie, I’m not too sad that she’s deader than a virus. (The joke is that a virus isn’t alive in the way other organisms are in the first place. Not a computer virus, FYI. Those aren’t alive at all.)

Announcement time! Monophanie is blue in the face. I can’t imagine Monodam is too happy, considering how much he emphasized the co-operating game. He’s mostly a robot, so it’s hard for me to tell from his tone of voice whether he’s happy or upset. Monophanie pukes again at the mention of a dead body.

I guess we’re just standing there in shock, because before we know it, everyone is here. Keebo suggests praying for Angie, that Atua guide her soul to heaven. Gonta concurs…it would seem Angie’s death hasn’t magically gotten rid of the brainwashing…but as Maki points out, clearly Angie wasn’t protected by a god from the blackened, so maybe they’ll come to their senses…

Hey, I spy Kiyo’s antique katana buried in Kaede’s effigy.

Kokichi’s right on the ball as usual. This wasn’t an accident. This was part of the killing game.

Tsumugi is about to suggest that the blackened isn’t a student, when the Monokubs show up, Monophanie still puking.

Monodam believes overcoming this incident will bring everyone closer together. I guess to him, Angie will act as stepladder to friendship, as a certain Danganronpa 2 character might put it.

In fact, murders might be necessary to bring everyone together as one…thus, even though Monodam is in charge, he’s still gonna hold the class trial.

Monotaro suggests everyone knock off this whole dying thing. Monophanie pukes again. Monodam gives us the Monokuma File. Unless it’s the Monodam file this time around. Then the Kubs leave.

Kokichi suggests that by this point, people must be getting used to dead bodies. Gonta refuses to, though. Maki says no one should ever have to get used to dead bodies. Kokichi finds that insincere coming from an assassin, but of course Maki would say that. She wouldn’t wish her kind of life on anyone else.

The four wax figures are suspended from the ceiling girders, with Angie in the middle in a pool of blood. This sure looks like a ritual, if not the one we were expecting…

We’re Kaito’s sidekick again. Tsumugi again wonders if the blackened is one of us…could it have been the transfer student? Well, all the wax figures are still wax, not flesh, so I’m guessing not.

Still, Tsumugi is worried about the possibility. Could one of the dead have come back to life, and killed Angie? Kaito goes into freakout mode and has to step outside for some fresh air. We’re partnered with Maki, it would seem.

The Monokuma File is still the Monokuma File. The time of death is 2 AM…the cause of death is a stab wound to the back of the neck. Her forehead has a cut on it as well.

Tsumigi believes that if everyone had followed the night-time rule, this wouldn’t have happened. Kiyo suggests that the culprit could as well be part of the Student Council as not, so the nighttime rule might have been pointless.

Maki can’t sit this one out, but Himiko intends to. She can’t bring herself to examine Angie’s body. She can’t do this anymore. Even if it means everyone dies, including herself. She doesn’t care. Surviving…is a pain. And might very well be a waste of energy if the killings continue and she ends up next.

Kiyo has a plan for the investigation. There might be a way to revive Angie. Or at least, to hear her testimony. The Caged Child séance. He’s certain that it will work. And Angie can confirm that the ritual was incomplete. If she does that, Tsumugi won’t have to suspect a transfer student, and can accept that one of us is the blackened. Kokichi offers to help with the séance, as does Himiko. Himiko would do anything to talk to Angie one more time. Tenko promptly offers her help as well. Himiko shrugs off Tenko’s offer and tell her to do whatever she wants. Sorry, Tenko, I don’t think this relationship is meant to be. Five people are needed for the ritual. Kiyo, Tenko, Himiko, and Kokichi make four, so Kokichi volunteers Keebo. The séance must take place in pitch blackness. Hmmm. Those empty rooms sound good? Yeah, Himiko also brings them up. The séance will take place in the middle room. The five leave. Maki thinks a séance is a waste of time, and Shuichi gets to work investigating. Which we will do tomorrow. Till next time, then!

#Dangan Ronpa #Dangan Ronpa V3 #Danganronpa V3

[but-the-library-of-alexandria]

30 Day Flash Fiction Challenge - Day 20

We made it to the twenties, woo!

I actually wrote this last night whoops - it’s a shameless development/gap-filler scene for a novel I’m working on, sorry not sorry. Also I just watched the entire of Caleb Gallo and you can definitely tell. This reads more like a script than a story. But apart from the messy ending, I think I like it. 

Day 20: a story about someone who is obsessed with marmalade

Cameron's Bluetooth car radio told him Estella Devereaux was calling. He hit accept.

“Speak,” he said, in his best impression of Mark and Roger from RENT.

“Hey bestie,” Estella’s voice came through the speakers. “I hear car sounds. Where ya going?”

“Just coming into the KFC drive thru.”

“Cameron Manos Callas Sinclair, are you consuming flesh on a Friday? Heresy!”

“I know, I'm a terrible Christian. I might as well piss on the crucifix.”

“You might as well slap Jesus in the face.”

“I might as well jerk off in a churchyard.”

“Can I take your order, sir?” Asked the KFC lady over the drive through speaker.

“Shit. 

Yes, can I have one boneless banquet, please?”

“Anything else?”

Cameron heard muffled laughter from the speakers. He pictured Estella pressing her face and her phone into a pillow in her dorm room. “That's all, thanks.”

“On to the next window to pay, please. Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you think she heard you say that?” Estella asked as he got in the queue for the next window.

“Probably. I hope she sees the rosary on my rear-view mirror when I pull up to pay.”

“Six euros ninety,” the lady at the window told him.

“Thanks.” He flashed his contactless card at the reader.

“He doesn't really jerk of in churchyards!” Estella called out helpfully from the radio.

“Thanks, Estella.”

Chicken obtained, Cameron ate with one hand as he drove. “How's the Devereaux clan, then?” He asked.

“All good. I moved into my new dorm last week. It's pretty good. Mum is complaining now that me and Drewe are both at uni, though. She doesn't like being home alone.”

“She complains when you're there, though.”

“Yeah, she just always complains. She’s a bitch. That's why all her fucking kids have fucking moved out.”

“How's your brother?”

“Getting back on the horse and getting hook-ups,” Estella replied. “Five that I've heard about this year. From Terra, of course, not him. Like he'd tell me.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch like ‘ouch, he's not telling his sister stuff’ or ouch because you're still into him?”

“You ask me that question every time we talk and I always refuse to answer.”

“Refusal to answer is always taken as an affirmation.”

“Regardless of my own feelings, I'm glad he's going out again. He doesn't suit being shut up at home.”

“Come on, you wanted to hear that he'd done nothing but gaze out the window and play sad songs on guitar since you two hooked up.”

“I was there for a month after we hooked up and I didn't hear any sad songs.”

“Since you went back to Greece, then.”

Cameron looked out of the window, over the familiar Aegean coastline. “I'm not stupid. He has a life.”

“That's debatable. You want to hear about the people my brother’s been seeing? They're all trash, I promise, it'll make you feel better.”

“I mean, the good person in me wants to say that everyone is equal and that we should be respecting these people's right to individuality without judgement, but the bitter bitch in me wants to say spill the tea on these losers.”

“Oh, I'll spill it. First of all there was Lisa.”

“Oh shit, Lisa the Barista?”

“The very same. After he promised not to sleep with her, too.”

“That thirsty bitch. That's some bottom-of-the-barrel reaching.”

“Right? And then, it gets better, his ex Stacy.”

“Okay, you totally lied - I met these girls and neither of them were trash.”

“Oh no, they're lovely girls, I adore them, but in the context of ‘people Lynden could have slept with’, they're utter trash.”

“Fair.”

“Then someone named Gi, I don't know much about them. This was a club hookup.”

“They might not have been trash.”

“I'm gonna assume they were trash. Apparently they had a fingernail kink.”

“Oh, man. Who said that?”

“Terra heard it from Tina who heard from Barry’s brother who used to date them.”

“Damn. And then there were two more?”

“Yeah, this guy named Craig from the bar.”

“Craig is already a trash name, no more information needed. Next.”

“Next was Jude. Have I told you the story about Jude? The marmalade guy?”

“Jude the marmalade guy?”

“Oh my god, okay, so apparently Lynden and Terra met this Jude guy at the bar but the bar was also, like, sort of a restaurant? Anyway it was kind of early and this guy was like ‘do you guys want food?’ And Terra and Lynden were like ‘no, we just ate’ and Jude was like ‘well I'm gonna order some food’ and then he just, like, ordered toast?”

“Toast? At a bar?”

“Right? And then the toast comes and already this is weird, and then he asks the waiter if they have any marmalade? And the waiter is like, I'll check, and he comes back with tangerine jelly and Jude is like, ‘this isn't marmalade’ and the waiter is like ‘well it's orange and it's spreadable’ and Jude is like ‘but it's not marmalade.’”

“This is really weird.”

“I know! And then, get this, he goes out and actually buys a jar of marmalade at the co-op, just so he can have it on his toast.”

“On his weird ass bar toast. And did Terra and your brother not question this?”

“Yeah, Terra was like ‘why all the fuss’ and he was like, ‘I just really like marmalade’.”

“What the fuck?”

“Exactly.”

“And Lynden slept with this guy, after that?”

“Yeah, it's fucking weird. I can't believe he went from you to that.”

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out. I slept with a guy who slept with creepy marmalade dude and fingernail weirdo.”

“To be fair, you got there first. These people are probably just desperate rebound hookups.”

“Your brother seemed so sensible. Did Jude have marmalade for breakfast the next morning?”

“Dude, he totally did!”

“Oh, no way! Fucking Lynden, man.”

“Fucking Lynden, man. But yeah, while we’re on the subject of fucking Lynden, if you still want to, we’re definitely coming out there for the party so you'll have a chance.”

“No comment. I'll make sure we have plenty of alcohol.”

“That's what did the trick the first time. Oh, shit, is it two thirty already?”

Cameron looked at his dash clock. “It's one thirty.”

“Time difference, asshat! We have daylight saving time because apparently we’re a medieval farming community. I'm meant to be in a boring anthropology lecture. I have to go put on something slutty before I go and see the cute TA.”

“Enjoy your anthropology, baby. I'll call you tomorrow when I go to see Vasia.”

“Okay, well, if I miss you, I'll see you at the party next week, and I'll bring you a present.”

“Are you talking about Lynden? Because I'd rather have a nice new jacket.”

“No, you wouldn't. See ya, bestie.”

“Bye, baby. Can't wait to hear what horrific stories you have for us tomorrow.”

#wtf was this #30DFFC #Elise's posts #short story #30 day writing challenge

[sarahburness]

How to Escape the Emotional Eating Cycle and Stop Feeling Lonely

“When you no longer believe that eating will save your life when you feel exhausted or overwhelmed or lonely, you will stop. When you believe in yourself more than you believe in food, you will stop using food as if it were your only chance at not falling apart.” ~Geneen Roth

I used to eat because I was lonely.

Lunch hour at school would last nine billion years. I'd have no one to sit with—I was spotty and mega bossy, and my hobby was copying pages from anthropology books.

Everyone would put a sweater on the chair next to them, so I'd have to sit further away. Then, just as I'd pick up my fork, they'd up and leave anyway! “Oh well,” I'd think, “If I eat slowly I can make my fries last till the bell goes.”

I switched to packed lunches to avoid the dining hall. But I didn't want to be spotted alone on a windowsill, so I'd eat my sandwiches in a toilet cubicle.

After, I'd feel full, but unsatisfied. And still have time to kill! So I'd go to the dinner hall and buy a meat pie. I felt sad and gross.

The truth was, I didn't know how to be a friend, let alone make one. I was full of resentment toward other kids.

I acted superior but felt inferior. I was needy, or tried to impress them.

I didn't think friendship was something people learned—I thought there was something wrong with me. That I'd be this way forever.

I also hated that I couldn't resist overeating. Since my family was big on brown rice and organic vegetables, I felt guilty for buying junk food.

When I hit my teens, I became body-conscious. I panicked that comfort food would make me fat. I wasn't! But I thought my thighs were big, and clenched my stomach in all day. All day!

I felt too embarrassed to ask anyone—especially my parents—or help. I thought they'd say I was greedy. Or lecture me about eating crap. Or take me to a doctor—humiliating!

I didn't know it was called “emotional eating,” but I was pretty sure it was bad. So I kept quiet.

I thought: “I can fix this myself. I just need the self-discipline to eat less!”

Going on improvised diets made things a whole new level of worse: binge eating, bulimia, and feeling utterly obsessed and depressed about food.

It took seven years before I found a way to recover.

I wish I'd known how to deal with lonely emotional eating in the first place, instead of going off on an eating disorder tangent!

So if you're dealing with a double-whammy of eating and loneliness yourself, here are eight simple steps. They will guide you through solving your emotional eating, and your loneliness, from the inside out.

1. Imagine your life without emotional eating, and shift focus away from guilt and shame.

You're not greedy. You're not gross. You're not ill. You're just trying to cope with a fear: abandonment.

It's the emotional fear we're born with. Outside the tribal circle, a baby would die. The primitive part of your brain thinks, “I'm alone—I'll starve!”

It's how you're wired, so give yourself a break.

If you waste your energy wrestling with guilt and shame over eating, you'll never tackle the real emotional challenge—loneliness.

So when guilt and shame come up, shift your focus.

Imagine a peaceful relationship with food. Imagine eating when you're actually hungry. Visualize slowly nourishing yourself.

2. Loneliness is a self-worth issue, so become willing to work on your self-worth.

It's like this: You're by yourself. That's not loneliness, that's solitude.

Sometimes it's nice, but sometimes you don't have a choice. Uh-oh!

Mind games start: you imagine it's because you're unlovable.

That's loneliness. Low self-worth, in disguise.

If you're lonely, it's easy to think you could earn your self-worth back by changing something external.

You think, “If I found a great partner, then I'd know I was lovable.”

Or you think, “I'll be worth loving once I get a grip on my emotional eating and lose weight.”

But that's not how it works! Self-worth isn't something you earn. Or that drops in your lap either.

You choose to create it.

So ask yourself: How can I work on my self-worth?

(Don't worry if you don't know yet. Some ideas are coming up…)

3. Spend some quality time with yourself.

Are you enjoying your time by yourself? Or just watching TV?

Imagine you treated a child the way you treat yourself on a too-tired evening.

Browsing Facebook when they say, “Play with me.” Sending them to the fridge to scavenge instead of cooking dinner. Binge-watching Netflix instead of putting them to bed when they're tired.

They'd feel hurt, and start believing they weren't worth spending time with. They'd also start misbehaving wildly to get your attention!

The same is true for how you feel about yourself. When we ignore our inner selves, start to believe we are worthless, and an emotional eating crisis is a great way for our heart and soul to grab our attention.

Spend some quality time with yourself.

Take yourself on a date, just you and you.

Play (build a go-cart, paint your room), be in your body (move, bathe, meditate), or relax (read, whistle, sit in nature).

Self-worth grows as you self-connect, so every little counts.

4. Create thoughts that give an inkling of self-worth.

When I was rock bottom with food and loneliness, my thoughts were dominated by failure, being a victim, and believing change was impossible.

Stuff like “I'm gonna be lonely forever,” and “I hate my body, I hate myself for eating, and I'm too pathetic to stop.”

Three positive thoughts in particular helped me out of my pit.

They didn't tell me directly I was worthy or fabulous—saying anything saccharine about my life would have felt like gloss painting a turd.

They just implied a basic level of self-worth.

They were: “I'm part of life unfolding.” (I'm not in a vacuum. Even though I feel totally dissociated and alone, I'm still participating in life on the planet.)

“I really care about my body.” (I'm upset I overate again. But I couldn't get upset if I were indifferent… So on some level, I must care!)

And: “Things are already changing.” (Repeating this phrase is a positive action… So maybe I won't always be like this).

Find one thought that implies you aren't your worst fears. That makes you feel worthy-ish. Then repeat it like you're being paid a piece rate to do so.

5. Explore how you've created loneliness.

Try this: It's funny!

Imagine someone wants to master the art of loneliness. Lucky for them, you've honed the perfect system!

Write down what you'd teach them.

My own Perfect System for Staying Lonely says: “Don't have a calendar for friends' birthdays. Tell yourself that you're too broke to buy gifts, cards, or book a babysitter.”

And: “Get hired for shift work, and rehearse theatre shows every weekend.” I disconnected from my relationship like that that for the first five years of my marriage! (Thankfully, the guy's a legend.)

The point is, I thought loneliness happened to me.

But I make myself lonely, when I don't need to be. Years after my schooldays are behind me, I lead myself back to that painful-yet-familiar place. It's called a comfort zone.

It doesn't mean it's your fault you're lonely—this isn't about blame. This is actually good news: If you're doing it, you can undo it.

6. List everything that your loneliness buys you.

An excuse not to face trust issues?

A reason to avoid intimacy?

A cover for social anxiety?

I know it's not obvious that loneliness has advantages, but sometimes it's a way to avoid something even more scary or painful.

Me? Loneliness excuses me from owning my introvert personality. Intimacy makes me feel vulnerable, and rejection scares the crap outta me.

These hidden benefits to your loneliness are called “payoffs.” It pays off to explore them!

Because they're the reason you're creating loneliness, even though it hurts.

7. Explore the ripple effect of loneliness in your life.

You'd expect loneliness to make you shy at parties, or reluctant to date.

But has it changed you in other ways?

Unhealthy self-reliance has made me a nightmare to cook with. And low self-worth has taken its toll on my financial outlook.

Clean out your worldview.

Defy your loneliness-inspired beliefs about what you can and can't do (like, ask someone to chop the mushrooms while you stir the risotto, or ask your boss for a raise).

It's a great way to un-victim yourself.

8. Finally, when you've done all that inner work, break up your emotional eating habit.

Habits weld to each other! Drinking and smoking. Driving and talking to yourself in a variety of accents. Lonely emotional eating and—?

Break the links.

Don't just say to yourself “Stop eating toast.” Don't make any rules about what you eat.

Instead, change how you eat. If you don't know how you eat, slow down.

Notice what you do at each stage of your emotional eating habit—beforehand, during, after, where, when, with what planning.

Do any part of your habit differently.

Say you eat ten slices of buttered toast and jam in front of the TV each evening. Buy different butter that you don't like so much. Put the TV (or the toaster) in the cellar. Create an eating area, keep the sofa for relaxing. Shop differently. Go out.

Keep disrupting your habit, and it will eventually dissipate.

Habit change takes patience, and sometimes repeated attempts too.

But break up your habit from enough angles, and you'll eventually find you've replaced it with a way to enjoy food again.

—

The way I think of it, addressing loneliness is 88 percent of the solution for emotional eating from loneliness.

When I solved my eating struggles, I spent a couple of years of journaling and becoming aware of my beliefs, thoughts, and feelings. Then, only a month or two of habit change.

I know a couple of years sounds really long! Perhaps it will take less time for you. The point is, this isn't a quick fix. Quick fixes rarely address the underlying issues.

It's tempting to rush. To try to skip straight to solving the eating—out-of-control eating feels unbearable and you want it to stop, like, yesterday—but if that hasn't been working for you, or you've even ended up binge eating like I did, give yourself permission and time to go deeper.

Trust me, changing an emotional eating habit is much easier when it's just eating, and the compulsion part has had your loving attention.

So good luck, and don't rush.

About Laura Lloyd

Laura Lloyd is a food sanity coach, as well as an illustrator. You can grab a FREE copy of her book, “How to Ditch Dieting, Love Your Body and Be Your Best Weight Always,” here!

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The post How to Escape the Emotional Eating Cycle and Stop Feeling Lonely appeared first on Tiny Buddha.

from Tiny Buddha https://tinybuddha.com/blog/escape-emotional-eating-stop-feeling-lonely/

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New Post has been published on Irene North

New Post has been published on http://www.irenenorth.com/writings/2017/07/on-going-home/

On going home

A pricker bush at Winding Hills Park in Montgomery, New York.

When I left New York at 18 in 1988, I was off to college, but I was also searching for a place to fit in.

As I walk in the lush greenness, the familiarity of Middletown, it is not my home. It’s the place where I grew up, the town that shaped who I am today, but it’s not a place where I fit in.

Something happened to my family in the years that I’ve been gone. They’re more conservative. More entrenched in what they are doing. More easily shaped by the words spewed forth on the television or by their friends and neighbors.

They’ve got the car, the house, the kids, the white picket fence, the stability. But none of that was anything I ever pursued. And yet, there’s that non-spoken condemnation and the looks because I chose a different path.

Returning home is always done with mixed feelings. Marian House was there. So was my grandma, Lorraine. Both passed away too soon, but each had profound effects on who I was to become. One taught me to never be ashamed of who I am, to stand up for what was right, no matter the cost. The other was an often silent guide, listening in earnest to my stories, real and imagined, talking to me when I was lonely, teaching me to appreciate everything in my life, from the dirt below my feet to philosophers in my books.

While I love my mom and my family, there’s always something that keeps me from them. They are gregarious, outgoing, enjoy parties, barbecues, and mingling. I see most of my traits in my grandmother. Maybe that’s why I always felt closer to her. It was more than we were both left-handed. My inner turmoil just always seemed to come to rest when I was near her.

Most of this comes form never truly fitting in. It didn’t matter if it was a family picnic or people at school. I’ve always been the one on the outside looking in. I don’t see things the way other people do and that has led to a life of few friends and even fewer opportunities.

So, I thought of going elsewhere to find my way. Nebraska was a place to embark on a new life in a new world, far away from the ghosts of the past. But ghosts have a way of finding you and forcing you to remove them before you can grow.

I thought the University of Nebraska-Lincoln would be the place where I found my way, but it wasn’t. I found acquaintances, but not lifelong friends. I never fit in.

While I enjoyed Lincoln, I rarely enjoyed my time in school. Anthropology wasn’t what I was going to do. I went through the motions anyway. I’d hoped to find something to keep me from going back to Middletown, but things didn’t work out that way.

After spending two years back in my hometown, I was ready to leave. My husband’s desire to return to college and finish his degree was our ticket back to Nebraska. It was home, for a while. Grad school and jobs took us elsewhere, but I couldn’t seem to find connections with anyone. Everyone everywhere had already settled into their lives while I was still searching.

Even here in Scottsbluff, I know people. I don’t have friends that can share my joys. How do you find people who are happy to sit in silence for hours or read books into the night? Who will sit quietly while I write? The things I like, that I enjoy, are solitary.

I don’t fit in. I never have. And I know I will never change. I won’t be someone I’m not because that’s what society expects of me.

I’m still searching, looking to fit in. I’m not sure that time will ever come. As much as I’d like to be in a place with more culture, Scottsbluff is my home for now. It’s where I return when I venture out to learn more about the world, to find something that soothes the ever-restless soul within.

When England wasn’t where he belonged, my husband began his search. We travel the same road together, knowing we will never quite fit in. He will often say to me, “We’re not normal, are we?”

No, we are not. But we’ve got each other. And, right now, that’s enough for me in this small Nebraska town.

#Nebraska #New York #travel