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nszypher · 1 month ago

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I have a story to tell, and it's not exactly a fun one. More of a venting thing, if I'm honest. You don't have to read it. But I need to get my thoughts out and while I did a story thing on TikTok because it is most likely going to go away soon, something weird happened and it added music and I also just think I do better in text.

So here we go.

This is the story of a book cover and the freelance job I never should've agreed to take. It's a long one. I don't expect anyone to get through it.

For the record, I am not sharing the name of the author, nor the title of the book. And I'm going to do my best to keep things vague. A few people who might read this will know, but it is not about dragging the actual author through the mud. Or at least, not in a way anyone can use to figure out who they are and where.

Back in, I believe it was September, I was approached by a local author to design a cover for their upcoming book. I knew them vaguely through a social thing my mom and I both go to off and on. To be honest, I didn't know this person well, but they seemed an alright sort. Mom also didn't seem to have an issue with them. So even though I was busy and hella stressed from my job, and I was mentally going through a really rough patch, I agreed to at least meet with her and feel it out.

The meeting was fine. Pleasant, even. They told me about the book, and some about the previous two books. They said broad strokes of the plot so I could make a cover that suited the book overall. We also talked about just writing in general, as I do a bit of it myself, our backgrounds and stuff like that. As you do.

I question now a lot of what they told me. Either they are lying, or stretching the truth to make themselves sound more than they are. It is possible that they truly did all they said, but if so, I think they were likely very poor at most of these jobs.

For example. They say they were a hospital chaplin for a time. They are one of the least empathetic people I've met in a while.

They claim they know Photoshop and was an editor at some newspaper somewhere. I realize tech changes, but they can't even figure out Google Drive.

They are older. I get that. But they can't even keep their age straight. They told my mom they were turning 80 this past birthday (which was some time between September and December), but told me at the meeting they were 84. And if they were so sharp, as they claimed, they would have better reading comprehension, but half the time, barely even seemed to understand basic, simple words.

More on that later.

So things rocked along. I didn't get to work on it right away. Things were busy. And everytime I tried to even think about it, I had a lot of anxiety over it. I don't have a lot of free time, and agreeing to this felt like a mistake, even at this point.

I should've listened.

I finally leveled with them and asked for a deadline. Deadlines help me focus and force me to buckle down and get shit done. And they gave me one. I think it was on or around the beginning of November, maybe the end of October. The date doesn't matter to me now because after work one day, I took my laptop to the library, say down, and got the bulk of it done in one sitting. Using a template created by Amazon's self publishing service (which is what they were using), I got started. By the time I left that night, I had a cover, a spine knowing I would have to modify it later more than likely, and a back designed without text. All I needed was whatever text they wanted for the back so I could put that on and then it would be finished.

I sent it to them for approval and they loved it instantly. And that's also kind of where the trouble started in earnest.

They proceeded to send me three or four different versions of two different blocks of text over the course of a week or so. I say two different blocks because for some reason, they had it in their head that they should put a bio on the back, pic and all. They got some advice when they started they should, and it's bad advice in my opinion. Mom and I tried to help them see that space could be better utilized, and that no modern author outside of non fiction and maybe something like historical fiction does that in the modern age. Nor do they need to.

To be clear, I am not opposed to an author's bio in a book. But there is a place for it. On the back cover of a paperback is not it. They also put their email on there. I doubt that they get any emails from that. They've only sold a handful of books anyway.

But whatever. At the end of the day, doesn't matter what I think. We were trying to help, but they didn't care and just wanted a bio, likely to stroke their own ego. They seem to have this deep desire to be someone and be noticed and fawned over. I feel a bio on the back like that is just a self congratulatory wank off, but what do I know?

I'm not any kind of published. And that seems to be part of the problem with this person.

Anyway, months go by. I hear nothing. Not a big deal really. They're still writing. My mom agreed to help proof read and edit, and that process is still going on so there's really not much for me to do anyway. October comes and goes. Then November. Then at some point, it becomes December. And I have heard nothing at all from them.

Oh, and we missed their first deadline by this point. I don't remember exactly what it was, but I feel like they originally wanted it done and printed by sometime in mid November.

Meanwhile, mom is editing and kind of fighting with the author on edits and changes. That process is not going well, at least not on our end. My mom is very good at grammar rules. Overall. There are a few literary things she didn't know, and I confirmed what I could, but otherwise, she's stellar. She edited all my papers in college and I rarely, if ever, had a mistake. And mom tells me that this author makes huge, glaring errors. Some are big grammar issues. Some are incorrect phrases used in narrative, not speech. And some are story confusion, as in calling someone the incorrect name. Which is wild to me. You made up these characters. You should at least be able to keep up with who is who. And the editing takes a while because the author is adding stuff after mom read a lot, if not all.

Things kind of come to a head around December 5th. Mom went with the author to a book signing that weekend, after helping prep for it the Friday before. And then Mom also had a Christmas cantata thing Sunday, and all three of these things took most of their respective days. She told the author that she does still want to give it all a another look, but wouldn't be able to finish it until Monday. So she asked the author to hold off sending it to the formatter until then.

The author sent it to the formatter on Sunday, while mom was rehearsing for the Cantada. And then when mom got kind of mad about that, she was hit with "Well, we could dink with it forever and never get it perfect and I just want to be done with it." Which is just... Crazy to think about for me. Here my mom was, trying to make this the best it could be, and the author just decided that it was good enough and sent it to the formatter anyway.

Who, as it happens, apparently also proof reads. Doesn't edit, doesn't make story suggestions, just grammar ones. Which apparently is all the author wanted my mom to do anyway.

Begs the question of why didn't you just send it to the formatter anyway? Why even bring in my mom? No one knows.

Meanwhile, I still have heard nothing. Which is fine really. It's not my job to pester them for the resources. When they are done and ready, they'll send it along.

Except they then decided to bitch at my mom about me never responding to them. My mom immediately said that wasn't like me. Because it isn't. Even if I don't write a novel in every email, as I am very pragmatic when answering questions and stuff, I do respond. Hell, half my emails at work are just open word, "Done," because I've been asked to do something and that is the only thing that needs to be said. Mom then asked them what email they were sending things to, and never got a response. But less than a week later, around December 13th, suddenly I had text for the back.

We think they send it to the wrong email.

I wrote back and said I would put it on, that I still needed the page count verified, I still need a bio if they still wanted to do that, and that my mom had forwarded me the pic she indicated she wanted to use. The author sent me nothing more.

But whatever. So I plugged in the text and waited for the rest. A bit later, they emailed again, asking how things were going, and I told them that I was still waiting on a bio. They sent me yet another book summary, the bio, and the pic I already said I didn't need. And this summary was long. At least twice as long as the once sent earlier in December. I was at work at the time, so I sent an email back saying that I was at work and didn't have the file in front of me, but just eyeballing it, I didn't think it would fit.

I got back, word for word, "Fine. Do whatever works. Thanks."

I found out later that mom had also pushed back on something, so they were already pissy. But I took it, and I did it. I made a Google Drive folder, and inside, I put high quality, isolated versions of the front and back covers. And then two more folders labeled Kindle and Print, since according to my research, they are set up differently, and then put a large, high quality version of the complete cover, labeled as "Print," in one, and two versions of the Kindle, with and without spine, in the "Kindle" and sent her the link to the file.

They then sent back that the Kindle with spine looked a little small, and that I needed to make it bigger. They also cut down both text blocks because their editor said they should. I mean, so did I but guess my word isn't good enough. So I made the changes, re-uploaded, and sent back.

They still only looked at the smaller, eBook Kindle cover for print and still complained it was too small. So I bullet pointed them.

Kindle: [insert link here]

Print: [insert link here]

And sincerely thought we were done with it. A week or two more go by before they reach out once again to tell me it's still too small. Again. And screenshotted Google results saying what size the cover should be.

I know. I got a template. You're looking at the wrong one still. So I just sent them the big one for print. This would've been right before Christmas, if I recall. One of these is before Christmas anyway.

Now, they had set a book signing for the release of this new book January 25th. It would be tight, but still doable at this point. I also just state that I hadn't been paid yet by this point. I was holding off just in case something else came up.

And it did.

Around New Year's, something else came up. I don't remember anymore. This may have been the time I got the shortened text. But I was out of state visiting a friend and didn't take my laptop with me, so I told them as much, and that I would look at it when I got home. Did whatever, sent it off. I also realized at some point that they did not understand that "Kindle" meant "eBook." It is Kindle Direct Publishing, but Kindle itself is an eBook. But whatever. Should've figured out "Print" is for the printed, physical copy. But they clearly can't read anyway since they didn't respond to what I actually asked. Too busy stream of consciousness waxing poetic about inconsequential things and then thinking themselves clever.

And nearly a week later, another email, this time saying some error came up when they uploaded the cover, and while I asked two, maybe tree time what the error said, they my never told me. They said it wanted a PGN file and wasn't letting them do anything else. First, Amazon's own site says they accept JPEG, PNG, and likely something else I'm forgetting, someone if it didn't make sense, I made a PNG and sent onwards. When that didn't instantly fix the problem, they emailed back.

Instead of telling me the error like I asked more than once, they wanted me to log into their account and do it on their behalf, but couldn't remember the password and then put it on me to reset it for them. When that didn't pan out, they tried to get me to come over and walk them through uploading it to Amazon or do a Zoom call for that. Mind you, they had supposedly done this four times before. But then surprise, surprise. It came out that they never actually did it, that the other artists did it for them.

Here's the catch: I am not those other artists. And I had never done this kind of thing before. I wouldn't know anything more anyway. Could I have figured it out? Probably. Did I want to? Absolutely not.

So I refused. I said I wasn't tech support and this was more than I was comfortable with. Even though email, I could see they were getting huffy with me. But they told me fine, they'll figure it out, and to please send my invoice. Which I had to make on the fly. Because I don't do this stuff. Ever.

And then I had to pay a PayPal fee because they couldn't figure out how to find me in PayPal. But whatever. I just wanted to be done. Shortly after that, they got their daughter and son-in-law involved, and for the first time, I actually saw the error.

While I took into account bleed, I didn't realize that the software wouldn't recognize the size alone, and went by where there is white space for bleed. No matter. Easy fix. So I fixed when I got back home as I was out at the time.

Keep in mind this. We are now around January 10th. The book signing is in 15 days. Not 15 business days. 15 total days. And according to what my mom heard them say, it takes about 2 weeks to get the books printed. And I imagine that's not including holidays. So really, it's probably more than likely 10 to 14 business days. And that's assuming nothing else happens. So already, while they are still claiming they will make it, the writing is on the walls.

Cue drum and cymbal sting.

And then, January 16th, they email me. Again. Saying there is some issue with the price location or something. At least that's what I kind of gleamed through the drivel of the email. And they said they had reached out to the person who did the other four covers of her book in hopes they could fix it. And it not, they said they would be forced to go to a genetic cover.

Now, my understanding from the first meeting, and what they said after, is that the other people weren't an option for one reason or another. They couldn't find people to do stuff for them.

Can't imagine why.

They had expressed, too, that they didn't like the previous covers much, and that for the second book in this asinine series, they actually were forced to do it themselves.

I'm not sure which part of this is true and which is a lie anymore. But based on what I've seen, I do not believe for a second that the author made anything relating to any cover.

I was in the middle of composing an email saying sure, that I would send over a PSD file for whoever to mess with. But before I could do that, I got another email from the author with the email of a new person and asking me to give them the file. Because even though it was unspoken, the implication is either "I'm too lazy," "I'm too important," or "I'm too stupid," to do it themselves. I think it's a bit of all. But the author also included the response from the "fixer," we'll call them, and that really pissed me off.

The fixer started, right off the bat, with "This is why you should work only with people who know what they're doing," and goes on to basically slag me off, and then say that they need a PSD and why. This person, who knows nothing about me, just assumed I knew nothing. Now, granted, I have never done a book cover before, a fact I have been upfront about since the beginning. And I haven't done much graphic design since 2013. But I got an Amazon template. It should've worked. I don't know why it didn't. If I had been given codes, maybe had I actually gotten into the account, I probably could've fixed it myself. But nope. Just insult me, even if you didn't realize that the author is too lazy and callous to consider that maybe you shouldn't send the whole email since that was a shitty thing to say.

But sure. Go off I guess. Cleaned up the layers. Grouped stuff together. Labeled them. Uploaded the PSD file and a TrueType file for some of the text, and sent it off to the fixer, saying that I was offering to send the author the PSD but this was better and blah blah blah. It was easier, to be sure. But I don't even want to talk to the fixer after I got put down by them.

And here's the kicker. A couple of kickers even. The author just now acknowledged that they would not make the January 25th signing. Which I predicted. But they apparently got a printed, proof copy. And then said the cover was rejected. By who, my dude? Amazon? Because they seemed to print the one just fine. You? Maybe?

And the worst part is if it was an issue with the barcode, just not having the useless bio would've fixed the issue right away. If that shit wasn't down there, there would be no problem with the pricing or barcode or whatever. But because you need everyone to know you are important, you did it anyway. And here's we are.

The only consolation I have from this is that my mom, who has read this book three times now, has told me that it's not good. Not bad, but not good. Mediocre at best. And she said that I was writing better in late high school and early college. My mom doesn't just say nice things. You gotta earn them. But this author wants to be so much more than they are. They seem to want to be so important and to write the next great American novel while they can barely string a coherent thought together.

I can tell because every email I have ever gotten from them includes at least one paragraph of something she did that day in the most long-winded form possible. I know this post is long too, and it may seem like the pot calling the kettle black, but trust me, if the author was trying to retell their side of things, it would be twice as long. They think they are so important and have so much to say.

For fuck's sake, they even put pretentious book club questions in the back, but because the story is so shallow, so are those questions. They are more like what you would ask an elementary school kid. And moreover, they claim it's a book for all ages whole having graphic, or at least semigraphic, scenes in it, some involving sex or sex discussion, some involving murder. It is not for all ages. But because of the setting and time period and overall feel, younger people wouldn't be interested. And because of the simplicity, older people likely wouldn't be interested either. Maybe the real old people who lived in this very specific version of America might be interested, but then it is unrealistic, not like what they likely grew up in at all. So these are kind of books without a real audience. And I'm sure that's part of why they don't sell well.

They claim they aren't out to make money and that they just want to get their stories out there. And initially, I understood that sentiment. But I see now it is fuel for the ego more than it is a true artistic endeavor. I would almost rather them be in it for the money.

And they can't even recognize when people are actually trying to help. Mom pushed back on stuff while editing, not to have her way but to make it better. Mom took time out of her life to help this person set up book signings, a Google Drive (that they still can't use correctly, by the way), and who knows what else in addition to the editing. I pushed back on some cover things because I knew what worked and what didn't, what would look good and in place with modern books and what would make it stick out as an amateur attempt.

I'm not saying mine was the most professional. Of course it wasn't. But I think it looked damn good. And so did everyone else who saw it.

But rather than listen to us, the people closest to the situation who were truly attempting to help, they would rather listen to people they believe are smart and intelligent and more worthy of time and praise. Heck, their daughter and son-in-law took one weekend, maybe, to help. And who knows what else they might've done, briefly, in the week following, but the author sang their praises about how they took time out of their busy schedule to help them and that their job is so important and it was such a blessing and all that junk. Nevermind all the work my mom did. For fucking free. Moreover, I have a full time job myself. I gave up time to do things that I wanted to do for this. And for what? So I could be belittled?

The author would rather surround themself with yes people than actually listen to anyone trying to help. Praise is welcome and criticism means you hate them. How childish. And then they only acknowledge those who fawn over them. My mom told me about how at one signing she went to help with, one of the author's "mentors" did nothing but sit there and praise them, and the author was just eating it up. Personally, I hate this kind of thing. I want you to tell me if it is good, yes, but I also want you to tell me if it is bad. I want the truth so I can improve. Keep what works. Change what doesn't. But this tells me that this author actually has no interest in improving. They want to just be good. Instantly.

That's not how things work.

The other thing that rankles me now is back when they were trying to get me to play IT, they did this weird thing where they clearly were fishing for a compliment and then also trying to manipulate me into compliance. The email included both the author saying "You may not know this, but some people are intimidated by my intelligence." I have a hard time believing that but whatever let's you sleep at night I guess. And then immediately followed it up with "I'm intimidated by your intelligence."

Okay. Great. I'm big and scary and I'm still not going to do your job for you. That actually had the opposite effect on me and just made me roll my eyes and mock it behind closed doors. What's more, truly intelligent people do not need to scream off the roof tops that they are intelligent. Thou doth protest too much. If you have to constantly remind people of your intelligence, you are likely both insecure and not that intelligent. I will say that I do feel I am of decent intelligence, maybe a bit above average. But I also let it speak for itself through my words and actions. I don't need people to fan my ego by blowing smoke up my ass.

This author, though, betrayed their own statements time and time again. They couldn't grasp the concept of rape, masturbation, murder and more as not being for someone younger than like... 15. minimum. They constantly got phrases wrong. They didn't understand the concept of Print vs. literally anything else. My mom also mentioned they frequently mixed up names, got well-known phrases wrong, and couldn't even keep the timeline straight. As in this book is the third in a series. The main character, or one of them, I don't know, is said to be about 9 or 10 maybe in the first book, and is set in 1956 ish. Mom never was clear on the actual date. The second and third book, despite happening consecutively, both manage to happen in 1959-1960. If you are doing the math, that should make the character 13 in the second at least, giving some grace and leaning into him being 10. Except he is explicitly stated to be 15 at some point in the second, and has his 16th during. That math doesn't math. I question your cognitive abilities if you can't even keep something as simple as the age correct.

Now, I will say that I understand some of the tech issues is exposure. I grew up with tech changing. A lot. I saw the transition from huge clunky laptops that weighed 50 pounds and barely did word processing to a computer ten times as powerful in my pocket. I'm actually typing this on my phone right now. So my mental agility for this sort of thing is, admittedly, higher on virtue of that, and my age, and the fact that I have a moderately decent and regular sleep schedule, something this author has admitted to not having more than once. But when you join a book club, and then refuse to read the book chosen, that's a problem. To be a good author, you need to read. But based on the correspondence I experienced with this person, they can't even fully comprehend one paragraph.

I will acknowledge my part in this, as I feel it is only right. I could've possibly done more. Maybe if I had bent over backwards, and done more than I agreed to do initially, then this could've ended differently. We did not have a written contract, by the way. No formal agreement other than words. I didn't think of it and didn't think it would be needed. I don't know if I'm in the wrong for refusing to try and get it uploaded. But then, I also never billed myself as a professional graphic designer. I got a degree. I worked as one for a year and a half (give or take a bit). And I haven't done anything formal since. And in that job, I did many things, but never a book cover. However, that said, I used templates all the time. And I never once had anything rejected for incorrect formatting or anything of the sort. I can, and did, correctly use a template. How dare someone who knows nothing about me demean me behind my back? But I also acknowledge that the email from the fixer that I saw was never meant to make it to me, and the fact that it did pisses me off.

I did have a little vindication from mom today, who talked to some people who knows the author, and has seen, from their perspective, a bit of what's going on. As in, they knew the author had a book coming out eventually, they knew I had done the cover and said it was good, and that's it. When they heard from my mom how I was treated, they were appalled, and all agreed I did what I was paid to do. And none felt I should've also played IT, and all agreed what was said about me was out of line and should've never been sent to me. At least people who know us both will know that I am not the failure I will likely be portrayed as.

I will not know what they say in the future about any of this. I got paid. I removed them from all my social media. That bridge has been burned to ash, straight into the ground. I want nothing more to do with the author or this book. My time and effort would've been better spent writing my own shit. And I am. And it's better than that drivel. But I have no doubt that I will no longer be attached to the cover design. I'm sure the author will attribute it to the fixer even though I doubt there was much, if anything, for the fixer to even do. I don't know. I won't know. And I do not care. I am sure I will be bad mouthed, lambasted, and spoken poorly of while the fixer will be talked about as though they are the savior of the book.

Good. Fucking have it.

I'm finally almost done. I really doubt anyone made it this far, but if you did, thanks for reading my rambling. I'll wrap it up.

In short, the TLDR, is this was the most miserable work experience I've ever had, and I worked at a pet store cleaning diarrhea dog cages every Saturday morning for six months when I was a teen. I never should've accepted this, but I got paid. So whatever. She supposedly loved it, and I kind of hope she can't use the cover anymore. I know it is fixable, salvageable, but a petty part of me hopes it isn't.

And even if it is, I hope it is the most expensive book cover they've ever had. Because I didn't work for free and I'm sure the fixer won't either.

Fuck the author.

Fuck the book.

Go rot.

#story #story time #graphic design drama #long post #ranting #rambling #i am better today and even better now that i have said my peace

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boots-with-the-fur-club · 1 year ago

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Chapter two of The Teenage Mutant Phantom of the Opera!

@daboyau Helped out with this chapter a good amount! I recommend reading their amazing works too!

Usagi walks into the theatre bright and early. It’s a far cry from how it is at night. People are walking around in a flurry to get things prepared. Usagi looks at the stage where several people are already there and reading lines with a bit of envy.

Still, he carefully balances the several different orders of coffees, teas, baked goods, and other drinks he was sent to get. As several people take their items without even sparing another glance at him, he’s extremely glad that they don’t make him do this every day.

The last order would definitely be the more difficult one though.

Donnie.

It had been a problem the moment he was even just getting the order. The barista, a lynx yokai, went nuts when Usagi mentioned wanting flavorless juice.

He thought she was going to drag him over the counter.

Apparently she’d driven herself half mad trying to find out what that actually meant and how to make it. She had complained and complained about how a kid keeps coming in, orders flavorless juice, and always called in later to say it wasn’t made right.

Never to get anyone in trouble, just to state it for the record he’d say.

She wanted to end him she had said.

Now, Usagi walks towards Donnie with the last cup.

Donnie notices him and hops off the stage.

“Finally, I was dangerously close to dehydration. Although I suspect this will be disappointing.”

Usagi smiles with determination as he hands it to him.

“You might just be surprised.”

Donnie looks at him like he didn’t believe a single word, but takes the cup and sips it anyway.

His eyes widen.

“It can’t be….”

Usagi crosses his arms proudly.

“But it can be! And it is! Flavorless juice, boom!”

“How did you do it?”

“My aunt and I used to live on a farm, I didn’t learn a lot, but she knows her stuff. I called her up and asked her for advice. The result is: unripe dragon fruit and soaked chia seeds! Flavorless, and full of nutrients!” Usagi’s hands went on his hips and his ears shot up, pointing outwards in pride.

Donnie’s eyes follows the happy movement of the ears before quickly darting away.

“I suppose you’re expecting a thank you? Or a “good job”?”

“Uh….just a thanks is fine? Everyone else is kind of treating me like I don’t exist so it would be nice.”

Donnie considers this for a second or two.

“That’s what happens when you let them. That’s why you didn’t get a lead part. You need to be more memorable. Make them notice you! Or else you’re just going to keep vanishing in the background and losing to singers with more stage presence, like me.” He smirks slightly.

Usagi’s ears drop down and to the back of his head as he pouts.

“Being an understudy nothing to be upset over! They’re important when things go wrong!”

Donnie starts to look away from him.

“Stop giving people the benefit of the doubt. It’s already put you in a bad position. The role you’re playing up isn’t one that exists. It’s not even the one you really got. Can’t you see that?”

Usagi tightens his fists.

“…..It’s the only chance I have.”

Donnie looks back at him, slightly surprised that Usagi was so…..polite in this situation.

He would have been swinging his tech bō at him already.

Although, he also wouldn’t have put up with what they were making Usagi do either.

“There’s other chance out there. Don’t stay somewhere bad for you just because you think you’re stuck.” Donnie advises before beginning to walk away.

Usagi relaxes slightly in surprise at what he had heard.

“And…..thanks.” He mumbles as he goes up the stairs.

Usagi’s smile returns slightly before he was pulled away to help with something else.

The hours until he’s alone were exhausting. They had him do everything except his actual role.

He ended up just laying on the stage, staring up at the catwalk.

One long blink later and Leo was staring back down at him while leaning on the railing.

“You came back.”

He had been watching the production all day so he already knew that, but it still filled him with joy that he could talk to him again.

Usagi smiles up at him.

“Hey! I’m really glad to see you. You would not believe the day I had.”

“Maybe I would.” Leo makes his way down to the stage.

“Care to join me on the floor?”

“It hasn’t been cleaned yet, do you know that?”

“It’s too late for me. I’m one with the dust bunnies.”

Leo stares down at him.

Usagi stares back, feeling incredibly awkward about the joke he just made. He had no way of knowing if he hated puns like that or not. Donnie very much did, if looks could kill he’d be dead a hundred times over.

Leo covers his mouth slightly, turning away as he chuckled softly.

Usagi smiles in both relief and absolute joy that he actually likes the dumb attempt to be funny.

Leo soon took his place next to him on the floor after he was able to stop laughing.

“Why the floor?”

“I like looking over at the painting on the ceiling over the seats.”

Leo rolls his eyes back in order to look towards the painting he was talking about. It was bittersweet for him. He tended to avoided staring at it for too long.

He remembers when Melyna painted it. A ceiling filled with stars. Leo already had anxiety just leaving the theatre, so ever going on the surface above the Hidden City would probably be near impossible for him.

He’d never see real stars.

It made his heart hurt to remember how much she did for him. How much she cared. How much she loved him.

“Hey….are you okay?”

Leo turns his head towards Usagi’s gaze and then quickly touched his own face to make sure he wasn’t crying.

He’s surprised that he’s not.

How did he know he was upset with part of his face covered?

“I’m fine, just thinking about something.”

“Are things alright for you?“

“I thought we were going to talk about your day.”

“We don’t have to. If there’s something bothering you, I’d want to hear it. I really appreciate what you agreed to do for me, and I like to think it makes us friends. Friends listen to each other.”

Leo’s heart flutters.

Friends, so soon?

Surely, he must also feel the connection between them.

That doesn’t mean he can be honest with him about everything though.

“I….knew the person who painted the ceiling.”

“Really? No wonder you like coming here-….I’m sorry, knew? Past tense?” Usagi sat up on his side, arm pressed to the floor to keep himself steady.

Leo doesn’t move.

“Past tense, meaning….she isn’t here to do anything now.”

Usagi frowns.

“I….won’t say I’m sorry for your loss, or that I understand how you feel. I know that it probably won’t help. I got told that a lot when I lost my parents. There was only one thing that made me feel better, and it was my aunt who said it.”

Leo finally sits up.

“What did she say?”

“That there was never going to be one thing that was going to make me feel better. That it was….a process. No easy solution. One she’d help me through. She said I wasn’t going to be doing it alone. She was right….hearing that didn’t fix everything. What helped was that she was there every step of the way.”

Leo looks down.

That was easy to say when there was someone to be there.

“I know I’m lucky I had someone….but if you don’t have the same, I’ll be that person.”

Leo stares at him in shock.

“Are….are you sure? This is our second time meeting, and….you don’t even know my real name.”

“If you were a bad person you would have done something bad already. And if you’re not a bad person, then you deserve someone to talk to. That’s what I believe at least.”

Leo looks back down, feeling his face heat up slightly.

Him?

Not a bad person?

Oh, how naive he was, but still, that was so flattering coming from someone like him.

“I’d be very happy to keep talking to you.”

“You kind of have to in order to help me with my singing, right?” Usagi chuckles.

“That reminds me, you still haven’t talked about your day.”

Usagi sighs.

“Ugh. Donnie was being kind of a jerk, and everyone else treats me like I’m doing something wrong. All I want is to practice my role in case they need me. I don’t think it’s too much to ask to actually do what an understudy does.”

Leo stands up and offers his hand to him.

“Let’s do what they’ve been robbing you of then.”

Usagi takesnit, letting Leo help him up.

“My first chance to sing all day.”

“It must be torture to be around music but never be able to join in.” He kept Usagi’s hand in his until it slips out of his grasp.

“It’s like holding in a sneeze. The songs in this opera are so much fun, who wouldn’t want to?”

“They shouldn’t deprive that joy, that’s for sure. It’s why you should sing your heart out now. Let’s start with your favorite song first.”

“I am not judging how you want to teach me at all, but can I ask why not start with the first song?”

“It’s a good question that I don’t blame you for asking. It’s important to put your soul into every song you sing, but that’s easier to practice with a song you’re already attached to most.”

“Alright then I guess….” Usagi begins to sing.

“Hold on, not yet.”

Leo hops off from the stage and goes all the way to the back of the seats.

“What are you doing?” Usagi shouts.

“I’ll tell you after! Start again!”

Usagi’s ears twitch a bit in curiosity before he starts singing again.

Leo says nothing until he was finished, walking back onto the stage.

“So….how was I?”

“Is this the first opera you’ve done?”

“First opera, play, first anything theatre related honestly…..is it that obvious?”

“It’s obvious when anyone does anything for the first time. It’s not your fault and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s why I’m helping you.”

“How can I do better?”

“To set yourself apart from everyone else, you need to do something that takes more effort. Anyone can get the attention of the front row, maybe even the middle row, but the back row is often forgotten by actors who don’t care. What you’re going to accomplish is getting all the rows to be unable to take their eyes off you.”

Usagi looks at the back row nervously.

“Am I really going to be able to do that?”

“Yes, you are. I know you have it in you.”

“Why didn’t you audition for the opera? Your voice is way better and you seem to know a lot more than I do. You even have part of a tragedy mask on your face. It’s like you were born to perform.”

Leo turns away from him.

“I couldn’t audition. I can never audition. This mask…..I have to wear it. Nobody would want me on stage without it, and I can’t show my whole face to emote with it on.”

“I….I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so insensitive.”

“No, it’s okay. You have the right to be curious. We just met yesterday. There’s a lot of questions to ask each other. You don’t even know my name.”

Usagi’s ears shoot straight up.

He really hadn’t asked.

Why did he just accept him introducing himself as “the phantom”?

That was so rude, and probably a little dumb too.

“C-Could you tell me your name?”

Leo turns back to him.

“Let’s make another deal. I’ll tell you something new about me every time we practice, but you can’t give up.”

“Wow…..these deals have just kind of been in my favor. Don’t you want something?”

“…..I want you on this stage, Yuichi. I can’t be here, but you have a chance. When I listen to opera, it’s like I’m there too. I can feel the emotions of the people who worked so hard to be there. I know that it’s the most important thing in the world to them right at that moment.”

Usagi starts to feel like his eyes were burning. When he sang a song with lyrics already there, already made to get across a message, he couldn’t mess it up. It was hard for him to communicate right sometimes. He accidentally made a lot of enemies.

Music is supposed to bring people together.

“I….I understand! I’ll be on that stage, I’ll do what I can!”

Leo smiles softly.

“Thank you. Let’s start again.”

This time as Usagi sings, Leo taught him to put all the emotion he has into his voice and movements.

Usagi couldn’t help but be in awe in the purpose with which Leo decided how he moved.

It’s like every single thing he did was chosen so carefully.

Usagi couldn’t say he couldn’t be as graceful or purposeful, but he liked to think that he did his best as they practice.

Leo would graciously and carefully show him how to make more of a presence. He would lift his arm higher, turn him, have him in a better position.

It also helped that Leo would play the other lead. Usagi could respond better to the movements he would have to just imagine otherwise.

This went on so long that their concentration was interrupted by Usagi’s phone ringing.

He had taken it out of his pocket and made the face of someone who knew he was going to get a sandal thrown at him the moment he got through the front door.

“Oh no! I really have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow!” He answers the phone as he runs off, shouting coming from the speaker.

Leo watches him leave the whole time, gaze never stopping.

Usagi stops for just a second and turns his head back.

“Thank you, I mean it.”

Then, just like that, he was gone.

This time, loneliness didn’t fill Leo’s heart.

It was excitement.

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real-shul-stories · 1 year ago

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A Rabbinic Emergency

This one is also very lengthy.

tl;dr: A visit and subsequent emails from a guy who was convinced we could help him with a spiritual problem and needed to talk to a rabbi urgently, but refused to go into detail for fear of sounding crazy. He then drove up from his house 3 hrs away in the middle of the night to wait in the parking lot for us to open, and in the morning tried to use something I’d said to him the previous day to gain access in the building

A guy shows up at the door on the Thursday after Christmas, when the synagogue is technically closed. He looks just like our tech guy with a mask on so I let him in without asking questions. This was a mistake.

The guy seemed very excitable and nervous, and requested to speak to a rabbi. I asked if it was a rabbinic emergency, and he asked what constitutes an emergency.

“Is someone dead?” I said.

“No,” he replied.

“Then it’s not an emergency. What can I do for you?”

He seemed very reticent to go into detail, giving me only the vaguest sense of what he needed to talk about. He admitted that he was hesitant to share too much for fear of sounding crazy. (After having dealt with neighbors lady the previous day I was like “this is definitely not the craziest thing I’ve heard this week” and that made him feel better about it.) From the sound of things he was having some kind of spiritual problem and had been instructed to seek a rabbi’s advice—urgently.

Since he caught us on a week where the rabbis aren’t even here, I asked him to send us an email detailing what he’d like to talk about. He sat in the lobby to write it, and confirmed that we got it. His email was very disjointed, and not much less vague than his verbal request was: it sounded like he’d recalled some kind of buried memory, and was instructed by some family members to talk to a rabbi about it. He was also concerned for the safety of these people, and did not name them—he assured me that he is not worried for his own safety, only theirs.

To his credit: he was much more self aware than most of the people we get having “spiritual issues” along these lines. He also asked my permission to discuss his problem with me, worried about making me uncomfortable or sounding crazy. Otherwise, though, he seemed completely out of his depth and unfamiliar with Judaism or Jewish traditions. When I asked if he wanted a male rabbi (a request we’ve had in the past) he seemed confused about what difference that would make, and was surprised that rabbis could even be female at all.

I told him someone would get back to him after the new year, and we sent him on his way.

The next day this guy COMES BACK and buzzes at the door. My boss is the one who answers since I'm in another room making coffee. My boss asks the usual questions before saying that the synagogue is closed (we were closed that week, technically) and to come back next week. The guy then says “I spoke to someone in the office yesterday who told me to say it was a rabbinic emergency.”

Mortified, I yell from the other room “that is NOT what I said.” My boss spends so long interrogating him that the intercom times out, so he goes out to talk to him. They spend a long time talking. Finally, after managing to direct the guy to our local Jewish crisis help center, my boss comes back in and gives his assessment that our visitor isn’t having a problem the rabbis can help with. However, he did agree that he looked just like our tech guy with a mask on.

Meanwhile, I’m at my desk checking my email. I see an email from one of our minyan attendees at 7AM, saying that he saw an unfamiliar car parked alone in our empty lot, with someone sitting inside and the lights on. Further down I see several additional emails from our visitor, providing more sparse details of his issue, before finally one sent at 10 pm saying “the situation is escalating, I’m driving up right now to wait in your lot.”

He had mentioned offhandedly that he lives in a town that's a couple of hours away, so I ask my coworker with security camera access to check the tapes from the middle of the night. At 3 AM our cameras captured our visitor attempting to park in our empty lot, leaving, and coming back. Multiple times. (And by attempting to park I mean pulling into a space and then going back and forth trying to straighten out more times than a normal person would, then finally giving up and leaving the lot.)

I then got to spend the rest of my day writing something up for security. Luckily he hasn’t been back but YEESH

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skelswritingcorner · 24 days ago

Text

A Detective, A Lab Tech, A Minister

It's now time for the 3rd chapter to be uploaded! I just finished making the section break flourish for this arc, so I included that here too. Will be posting chapter four soon.

Warnings: Mentions of abusive parents, mentions of banishment, this is a more light-hearted and solemn chapter.

Word Count: 2,400

It has been a few weeks since the attempted wedding crashing. Fortunately, the authorities were swift in dealing with everything, and the groom’s mother was sent to a mental health hospital to evaluate her for any mental disorders and to help figure out a therapy and treatment plan. They still charged her for tresspassing and assault with a deadly weapon though, crime is still crime. The therapy is Amelia’s sentencing, applied by a judge swifter than she tried to stab Patchouli.

Now, Patchouli is back to her usual routine of cleaning around the church grounds, pondering amongst the patchouli fields, and listening to the churchgoers’ woes and concerns. Some of them are kids concerned about balancing spending time with friends and doing good at school, others are parents worried about their kids, and some are people asking for advice on love. Things Patchouli, the minister of advice, hears plenty of times.

“Friendship can be a fickle thing,” Patchouli explained, hands clasped together, “and it’s even harder to balance certain aspects of life. I can assure you that adults struggle with friendship too.”

The young boy looked up at the minister, “Adults find friendship hard too?”

“Yes. The most important parts of friendship are having a common interest and balancing time spent with them and time spent away from them. You can form your own little study group, and you and your friends can do homework together! Doesn’t have to be in-person either. Just don’t go sneaking out while it’s dark to study with a friend,” Patchouli answered, “make sure your parents know you plan on doing that.”

The boy looked up in awe, “That’s sounds so cool! You do too Sister Patchy, you’re so cool and wise!”

Patchouli shakes her head, leaning forward into the desk, “Little Matthew, I’m only 20 years old. I’ve just acquired a lot of knowledge over the past few years with little else to do with it. That, and the advice I give is based on what situation is given, and how I feel those situations could go.”

Matthew nodded intensely, getting up from the chair that was a bit too big for him. He’s a growing boy though, in a few years he might barely fit it. “Thank you for the advice, Patchy! I’m gonna go tell mom and dad what you told me!” he then zoomed out of the room, speedwalking his little legs as fast as they can take him.

Patchouli sighed, watching the little boy zoom away. He’s not much older than she was when she first arrived. When she saw her sister for the last time. How is she doing, anyway? It’s been so long, how would’ve Primrose changed?

Should she try to find her sister? Start investigating? Consult the internet to see if anyone knows someone matching her description? Her efforts may not bear fruit, but she could try.

A voice cut out through her thoughts, “Sister Patchouli,” the presence entered the office, and Patchouli smiled at it just being Agatha, “There’s two people asking for you at the main lobby. Or someone else with purple hair and pink eyes, but the only one with those traits here is you.”

Chuckling, Patchouli got up from her chair and walked to the door, “I’ll go meet up with them.”

Walking within the silent halls, Patchouli wondered who would be asking for her specifically. Is she being questioned for an investigation again? How many would it be by now? Fifteen, including what happened a few weeks back?

Patchouli stopped at the lobby, seeing two people who looked a bit familiar. One of them was an average-height man with blond hair and tan skin, wearing dark green trousers and a light green button-up. The woman had darker skin with brown-black hair tied up in a bun, wearing warm gray sweatpants and a pink sweater with a cat face embroidered upon the front. The woman waved at Patchouli, and she approached the two.

“Hey! I’m Lily Manalo, this is Fennel Pappenheim. We wanted to ask you some stuff, if that’s okay.” Lily gestured to the blond guy, who waved with a V sign.

This isn’t too unusual of something to be asked, so Patchouli decided to comply. “Of course, follow me, my office is in this hall over here.” she walked back to her office, Lily and Fennel following in tow. When the two entered the office, they took their seats in the chairs, and Patchouli took position in hers.

“So,” Patchouli clapped her hands together, “I think I’ve seen the two of you before. Manalo… Manalo… that family name sounds familiar.”

Lily perked up, “You were the officiant for my brother and my sister-in-law! I think it was your first time properly officiating a marriage by yourself?”

She recalled now. Lily was one of the bridesmaids, and talked a lot with the bride during the wedding. “I recall now! How have they been?”

“They’ve been doing wonderfully! They’re having a kid soon, and my wife has been helping Naliah with setting up everything for the new arrival.” Lily smiled brightly.

Lily has a wife now? Last time she saw her, Patchouli recalls that Lily wasn’t with anyone at the time. Perhaps this was a new development?

“My brother, Leif, says that Lily’s wife looks a lot like you. She has red hair and purple eyes.” Fennel added, baritone voice rumbling through his throat. “Her name’s Dahlia. She’s away on business right now, but we’re not here for that.”

Fennel took out a business card, gently placing it on the desk, “We are part of the Linnea Paranormal Invesitgation Agency, or LPIA for short. Recently, there’s been evidence of paranormal activity back during the wedding between my cousin and Mr. Palla, and it links to you. Don’t panic though, you’re not being taken into custody. We just want to understand those powers, if you are willing to indulge us, that is.”

“Ah, I see. But how did you know I used those abilities? I don’t think anyone else was with me.” Patchouli racked her head to figure out anyone else who was there, excluding the officers.

Lily sighed, “One of Fennel’s baby sisters saw you. Was it Blossom, Fennel? I think it was Blossom?”

“Nope, Shanna.”

“Right. Shanna saw you use those eye portals, and none of us have an ability similar to that on file other than, uhhhh, my wife?” Lily continued, “We were thinking of recruiting you into the agency. Well, I was. You match the description of my wife’s baby sister, and I thought that maybe you might recognize each other?”

Patchouli pondered. She herself is planning on looking for her older sister as well. They are part of an investigation agency, after all. Maybe that could be the help she needs to reunite with Primrose?

“I’ll have to ask the head of the clergy, but I’ll consider it. I’m also trying to look for my own sister. She’s five years older, so around twenty-five now.” Patchouli replied, getting up from the chair, “Excuse me as I go find her.”

It didn’t take long to find Sister Helga, since she’s typically in her office. Given her legs weakened with age, she usually asks the other sisters to retrieve stuff for her, especially during her bad days. Patchouli came by just before it started, and often helped Sister Helga ever since.

Knocking on the door before turning the brass doorknob, Patchouli entered the room. Sister Helga was at her desk, reading a book. When Patchouli entered, she placed her bookmark on where she stopped before looking to address Patchouli. “What is it, Patchouli?” she asked.

“Two people came to talk to me. Apparently, that wedding incident involved someone else witnessing my powers, and now they want to recruit me to LPIA. I think this would be a great opportunity for me to try and find my older sister, but I wanted your approval before I do something so drastic.”

Grabbing her cane, Sister Helga walked up to Patchouli, wrapping her in a warm embrace, “This day was inevitable, you taking initiative to find your sister. I shall give you my blessing. Don’t worry about me, the others have been more than willing to help little old me.” Sister Helga says that despite only being in her fifties, but given her use of mobility aids it makes sense that she feels older.

“You can start packing everything once you made the arrangements. All I ask of you is that you visit once in a while. Got it?”

Patchouli nodded, and Sister Helga returned to her desk. The minister exited the office, closing the door before walking back to her own office.

Returning to her office, Patchouli sat down and looked at the two, “The head approves. I assume I need to schedule an interview? Do I need to provide a résumé?”

Lily nodded, “I’ll explain everything to the chair. You don’t need a résumé by the way, just a demonstration of your own abilities. It would help though. I’m a lab tech there, so you’ll probably have to deal with me a lot when you first arrive. And a lot afterward if it involves something that needs processing in the lab. Basically, you’ll see me a lot!”

Fennel shook his head while smiling, “You’ll also receive combat training by some of the experts here just in case. Osmie is one of the investigators along with Dahlia and I, she’s very chaotic, but she’s a good friend. Dahlia’s quite chill in comparison, but will bug you about hydrating and making sure you’ve eaten.”

“I see. I’ll give both of you my phone number so y’all can tell me when the interview is. Other than that, I’ll see the both of you later.” Patchouli got up from her chair, Fennel and Lily following suit. They both walked out of the office, Lily enthusiastically waving before the two left to the main lobby.

Guess Patchouli should start packing, shouldn’t she? At least after the church closes, she still has her duties as the Minister of Advice. She looked over at the stained glass over the window, six purple eyes that look like flower petals amongst opalescent stained glass. It was a design that always felt nostalgic to Patchouli, even when she first arrived. Possibly since that symbol is on her forehead, hidden with the purple locs that are her bangs.

It wasn’t time for such sentiments, though. Patchouli had work to do, at least for a few more hours. Until then, she sat down at the desk to wait for the next person in need of advice.

The church is now closed, and Patchouli finished her duties for the day. Washing the ceramic plates with a brush and dish soap, she placed them on the drying rack for them to dry. The church did have a dish washer, a more recent addition from a generous donator, but Patchouli preferred cleaning at least some of the dishes by hand. It kept her hands busy, and allowed her to clear her head from the events from the day.

Sister Agatha approached from the table, leaning over the counter, “So, you’re planning on taking that offer and going to try and find your big sis? We all knew the day would come, especially since you’ve always talked so fondly of her.”

Patchouli placed the final plate on the rack, looking over at Sister Agatha after drying her hands and rolling down her sleeves, “I’m glad that you remember. She was the only light of my life until I came here. I hope that I can find her again, or at least check to see if our father is still alive and kicking.”

Agatha winced, “Right. Your mom exiled him, didn’t she? He sounds like a good father, with him doing the best that he could to bring you to us. Hopefully he is alive, it would be a shame if he isn’t.”

“I hope so too, but being exiled from the bulk of the settlements can make it hard to survive. I just hope that the group he’s the leader of is staying strong too.” Patchouli walked out of the kitchen, “I have to wait for that though, the first thing is trying to find my sister.”

“Right, right.” Agatha nodded, “I’ll help you pack too.”

“I need to wait a bit before I start properly packing everything,” Patchouli waved her hands in front of her, “there’s still the whole interview thing beforehand!”

“Oh! I just realized, you’ve never done an actual interview before. I’ve done them before, back before I became a part of the clergy here. Do you need any advice? Help with writing a résumé? I’ve helped a few of the churchgoers with theirs since my old job used to have me look over them.” Agatha asked, “I know I’ve helped you with getting your driver’s license before, mostly because of your anxiety with learning how, but résumés are more of my specialty. Sister Lena’s the better one for driving lessons since she, y’know, also teaches driver’s ed at the school.”

It was true that Sister Lena was a good driver. Many of Patchouli’s classmates were taught by her, including Patchouli herself when she was at the school. The school itself is not connected to the church, but some of the clergy have teaching licenses and teach classes there. Sister Lena, of course, teaches Driver’s Ed, another teaches human geography, one teaches a foreign language, and Sister Helga used to be an assistant principle at the elementary school before she became the head of the church. Even though she would technically be referred to as Mother Helga by tradition, everyone in the clergy refers to her as Sister. In Sister Helga’s eyes, she felt that Mother felt too unapproachable, so she kept referring to herself as Sister Helga.

“I’d appreciate the help, we can do it once all our other duties are complete.” Patchouli answered, stretching her back with her arms raised, careful not to bonk her horns in the process. If she were to do it alone, the concept might make her a bit anxious. However, with the assistance of Sister Agatha, writing the résumé won’t be as hard.

For now though, Patchouli needed to wait for the interview to happen, then she can start packing to start a new chapter of her life.

#patchouli's revenge #skel's original works #writers of tumblr #writeblr #skel writes patchouli's revenge #original story #Patchouli Gimle #Fennel Pappenheim #Lily Manalo

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kquil · 3 months ago

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Hello again pookie!!!

It’s absolutely okay! I’m glad to hear you had a great Halloween! We don’t really celebrate where I live so it was mostly just going to random dungeons and haunted houses around here with some friends, it was a lot of fun! (We simply needed a reason to hangout and Halloween was our theme haha)

I’m super excited for Christmas!!! I’ve been playing carols and Christmas songs since summer vacation. The Christmas spirit is always high hehe.

Thank you so much for your kind words and reassurance! I had been putting the series on hold because I wanted to read it with a clear mind and it definitely was a good idea. I was able to enjoy it thoroughly today!!

This chapter was amazing. You left me speechless once again. I was literally going through a rollercoaster of emotions and it is very hard for me to experience fan-fictions so deeply, you truly outdone yourself!

Uni has been a blessing to me since my workload has been balanced! But it still gets hectic because there are so many things to do besides assignments and attending lectures! I remind myself that not everyone gets the opportunities I did and I must take care of myself and seek rest every week once a day no matter what. Thank you so much for your concern and reminder to take rest!

I wanted to ask some advice on creative writing. Do you have any recommendations that a beginner could use to get into creative writing? I’ve been interested since quite a while but I’m unsure on what I should look into first or how I should go about on a project. I have so many prompts, ideas and plots written down but I get confused on how to start anything. I thought it would be best to ask someone who I find inspiring (aka you)

(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

I’ve also meant to ask if you were aware of the on-going genocides in Armenia, Congo and Sudan? And the genocide on Uyghurs. There is barely any coverage on mainstream media. I personally haven’t found a lot of information on Armenia, very basic information I’d have to look more into it but I’ve been following many Congolese and Sudanese resources.

The Uyghurs often get neglected as well, they have a similar situation like Palestinians do. China annexed East Turkestan and renamed it as Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region in 1949. They have been putting the native population in concentration camps.

Congo’s resources are being exploited for tech. The Congolese people face harsh treatments like rape and bombing for the sake of stealing these resources.

Sudan has been in turmoil due to their resources and for a new occupation by foreign entities that have sent militia to fabricate a “civil war” which has ruined the civilians’ lives. They are on the brink of starvation and have been constantly living in hell since April 2023. Women especially are living in a nightmare. Both the U.S and the U.A.E are involved in this.

Armenians have been facing threats from the Azerbaijan Government/Military of their eradication from what I know. This started last year around October/November. Israel has been complicit of providing weapons to Azerbaijan. I think it is one way or another complicit in other genocides I’ve mentioned as well.

This was very brief and I might have unintentionally given some false or mixed information, I apologize for that in advance but I thought it would be great to bring it to your attention. If you need some resources I’d love to share! Keep them in your thoughts and prayers 🩷

-🌸

hello, my darling! goodness, what a treat to have you in my inbox twice in a row. although you don't celebrate Halloween, it still seems like you had great fun, which is what matters most -- sounds super spooky but with great company so it sounds like a great halloween ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- omg! i love Christmas so i'm right there with you! i only wake up to Christmas songs now haha! ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪

and i'm glad you enjoyed the read, it's really become something quite special to me and to see it being received so well makes me so giddy and proud -- thank you for always taking the time to read my writing and enjoy it to the fullest, that's all i can ask for (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

awww~ you have such a good attitude when it comes to uni, you're soooo right when it comes to balancing rest and the workload. i know it'll get tough at times but seeing your outlook, i'm sure you'll pull through no matter how tough it gets (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝) keep it up, my darling, you're doing brilliantly ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)!♡

omg that's so exciting! creative writing is such fun, i'm sure you'll have a fun time with it. ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و✧*｡thank you also for the high praise, always, you make me blush every time (。>\\<)♡ but i'm more than happy to help! although, i can only lend advice based on my experience so feel free to search and test out other techniques or advice online to help you along -- every writer is different

if you already have those prompts and ideas, the best advice i can give is to set aside some time, find a quiet place, put away all your distractions, set up your preferred writing medium (handwritten or typed), set down some snacks and a drink, and just begin writing. there's no better way to do creative writing than just making a start. of course, only do these for short prompts, you're only beginning after all so be gentle with yourself, and be gentle in your proofreading and self-critiquing too -- the more you write, the more you'll improve over time.

i also encourage reading books, you'll be able to pick up more vocab and writing structure things, you'll be able to see, first hand, how writers phrase things, start paragraphs, invoke emotions, describe environments, flesh out characters etc through storytelling

the way you go about your creative writing is also important to how you go about starting i.e if you want to have your own writing account like me here, create an account and start posting, the more you write and post, the more you'll grow with your readers, who will surely interact with your content and you'll see what things work and what don't -- though, there usually isn't a visible pattern lol (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

if you aren't willing to publish your writing online, that's also perfectly fine but i recommend having a dedicated notebook for your writing or make it fun and aesthetic in your own way. have a pretty notebook just for your writing or a binder that you can easily shuffle pages about or get a USB and dedicate it's entire storage to your writing and/or plans. i highly recommend going on Pinterest and searching something like 'writing aesthetic' or 'creative writing aesthetic/hobby' for visual and prompt inspiration on how to go about it -- if you find something you like or intrigues you, start it right away! don't feel like you have to buy any fancy stationary or anything though, for creative writing all you need is pen and paper or a reliable laptop and you're good, what matters is that you're giving it a go

that's all the advice i can give for now, if you want to ask me anything specific please feel free to reach out whenever and i'll try to respond as soon as i can! wishing you all the best on your creative writing endeavours, you're going to do amazing ✧(⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝)

i have no words for the type of inhumane atrocities happening in Armenia, Congo and Sudan, it makes me sick the amount of suffering innocent people, men, women and children, are forced to go through. i, sadly, have not been well informed of these horrific circumstances but thank you so much for bringing them to my attention, my darling, you're an angel. i will keep the innocents in my prayers and hope that their corrupt perpetrators go to hell. those sources will be very helpful, thank you! there's not much i can do but know about what's happening and making sure i never forget what's happening and has happened, I'll make sure those suffering unfairly will be remembered, always x

#☁︎ : kquil talks #🌸 : anon

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agapi-kalyptei · 6 months ago

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A coworker sent me a message saying that I seemingly have knowledge in so many areas and asked me how to get there. And the honest answer is just to be old and spend time on it.

(This post is mostly about software development, and knowledge acquisition in general.)

There's a lot to be said about learning, epistemology, ADHD, obsessions, being autistic and geeking out, having an older brother, being a social outcast and running to computers which I can read tutorials for (unlike social situations), and being privileged/lucky enough that I can just allocate time in my work to learn things. But I'll focus on one less flattering aspect:

Fake it till you make it.

Part 1: A lot of my knowledge is shallow. That's not necessarily a bad/evil thing.

I don't need to know everything about everything, neither on a personal level, or in work. "I know everything" isn't even a good look on a CV. Having a wide range of understanding can be good for some roles (team lead / tech lead / technical director / CTO type jobs, none of which I really crave), but in general what's important to get most IT jobs done well is having a shallow understanding of everything for context - to know how your thing will affect other things - and a deep understanding in one or two technologies. This is sometimes called T-shape skill tree or something similar, as in, a imaginary skill point graph drawn from top, like so

Everyone's path is different, but in general - you don't need to know everything, it's fine to have more or less only one specialty, especially in the first few years of IT jobs. If you've worked in IT for 10+ years, and you're not super deep in your main skill, or you haven't expanded any other skills, that's worrying and generally is a red flag when hiring (depending on your salary expectations). Some people just never get better at what they're doing.

Part 2: A lot of my knowledge is shallow because I need it only for a limited time. Obviously if I was a better person, I'd just remember everything, and never mislead people about what I know and don't know. However, as I took on the role of an educator in my company, sometimes i prepare presentations, and what you need to do is either be an expert, or just learn enough from experts to give the knowledge to people who know much less than you.

Knowing your audience, and the goal of the presentation is important. If you're going to pretend you're an expert in a room full of experts, that's gonna be painful, and hard to recover from. However, if you know there's only 1-2 people in the audience who know more than you, and you're honest, it's usually fine to prefix your talk with "I'm not an actual expert, but I've researched this topic and here's how you the audience can benefit". (This is what I've been doing.)

Part 3: This shallow knowledge course this can be tricky. I'm not even talking about lying on your CV, that's inappropriate and I will take no part in it. But as you get more senior positions, you'll have more and more people coming to you for advice. And it's easy to be temporarily blinded by your seemingly wide knowledge and have opinions on everything. Sometimes a junior developer just won't risk making a decision, and you'll have to call the shots.

On one hand, once you have enough experience, especially if you've actually benchmarked and monitored your real, production application, you'll get a lot of knowledge they don't teach in schools - it's not "is node.js faster than python?" (it is btw, but also it depends?). It's "is this kind of web server with these libraries doing these kinds of calculations while using this kind of database under this kind of load with this data structure... is it faster than a slightly different combination of these ingredients?"

The things you will learn will often be very specific, but also you'll gain confidence and intuition. Assessing maturity of a project - let's say, a redis replacement - will require more than just seeing many github stars does it have. Comparing feature set, testing drivers, doing a load test (what kind of load??? what concurrency, what message size, how many unique key/value pairs? how many reads versus writes?), testing resiliency, backups, etc - that's the proper procedure, but realistically, your company won't allocate the proper time for these things always, so you'll have to take risks and make educated guesses.

The key is in admitting what you don't know. It's fine to make mistakes, it's fine to guess, it's fine to feel uncertain or feel bad vibes about a project, but it's important to have the acute self-awareness and being able to tell which things you're certain about, and which you've guessed based on circumstantial evidence. One thing that I discover again and again - developers are afraid of things they don't know. (Sort of like real humans! Shocking.) But they don't often realize they don't know things, and instead interpret the feeling as their own wisdom.

Anyway that's it, that's the rant.

tl;dr Learning a bit of everything has its place in software development, but be aware of the dunning-kruger effect. Reading the marketing spiel and watching a youtube demo doesn't count as really knowing a technology. Having 10 hours with it barely counts as hello world. Having 100 hours can mean something only if you've put it to production and measured it. Having 1000 hours in something can be called a competency. But it will still take 10'000 hours to be an expert. Count your hours. Know which are you.

#how to be a senior developer #software development #career advice #long post

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timeoverload · 7 months ago

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Today was ok I guess. The morning was boring. I was just going through the motions as usual and I didn't want to be there. I tried to distract myself with music. I haven't been listening to music as much lately and I think it's because I hate using tidal now. It's really hard to find new stuff to listen to on there. I started using spotify again and I missed it. That made my day a little more bearable.

The afternoon was also pretty boring. I was ok with that because I didn't feel like doing a ton of shit. It was also 80 degrees in our department because the air conditioner wasn't working correctly again. One of the doctors got crabby because the sharp westcott scissors in his set weren't sharp enough. They had to open 7 peel packed westcott scissors because he wasn't happy with any of them. Some of them were labeled as sharp, but they were actually blunt. It's so hard to tell sometimes because they have been sent out for sharpening many times and the tips on the older ones are a little warped. He told the tech that whoever put the tray together needs to relearn the instruments. I think I was the person who wrapped it, but it was also a new tray that the coordinator had set up so I didn't look that close at it because she said it was good to go. It probably wasn't my fault but it irritates me that he talks to people that way. He is just grouchy all the time like a lot of the other doctors. I understand that they have a hard job but they don't need to take out their stress on other people. I just don't care for him too much because he has a history of being rude to everyone, including patients. One time he called a patient and he yelled at them. He told them they needed to get to the hospital now or he wouldn't do their surgery for them. Their surgery wasn't even scheduled until later in the day so he had no right to do that. A couple years ago, he ran into me super hard because he wasn't looking where he was going. I almost fell over and he didn't apologize. He just kept walking. He's a jerk with no manners.

The guy that has a crush on me was being weird again. He came up to me earlier and started talking about going to the movies. He asked me if I like going to movies because there's a new one coming out that he said looks good. He didn't ask me directly, but I could tell that he was trying to see if I would go with him in a roundabout way. He was very nervous when he was talking to me about that so it was pretty obvious. I told him I would just wait until that movie was out of the theaters so I could stream it instead. He got disappointed and backed off. I don't care. I don't get paid enough to deal with his shit. I'm still upset about what he said to me last week. I also catch him observing me often and it makes me uncomfortable because I feel like he is studying me or something. He makes comments about the little things I do that I don't think anybody else notices. Later in the day, he came to ask me for advice. He was asking me why people don't take him seriously and he asked me how I think he could fix that. I told him he needs to stop joking around constantly and maybe people will. He acted like he was surprised, but maybe he will listen. I still want to get away from him.

I am glad that I got off work on time and I didn't have to scramble to get shit done before I left. Tomorrow morning is also going to be easy for me. I only have 3 cases. I have 15 in the afternoon so that is going to be lame. I'm not going to think about it anymore right now. I'm sure it will be fine.

I really hope I hear back about that job sometime in the near future. I want to quit so bad. I have been waiting for the right opportunity to leave and this is it. I knew I didn't want to settle on just any job. I want to be somewhere that I will be happy and be respected. I want to be able to pester my favorite person/boyfriend every day. ;) Hopefully everything will get sorted out soon.

I also want to have fun now. I don't want to be in this room anymore. I am tired of bugs. I realized that I haven't been getting spider bites at night like I thought I was. The bites are too small to be spider bites. I'm not covered in them. There are just a few little spots on my legs but they are so itchy. I actually think I have some kind of mites living in my bed. I guess that's what happens when you have a 16 year old mattress. I know it's not bed bugs or fleas, thankfully. I can't see whatever it is that is doing that. I'm glad it's not too serious but I am uncomfortable. I don't think I am going to be able to get rid of them unless I take everything out of here and deep clean. I am going to do some cleaning this week so hopefully I can make it a little more bearable. I don't think it will affect anyone else in the house because everyone else's room is a lot cleaner than mine is. I can't wait until I can throw this bed in the dumpster where it belongs. I think I would probably cry if I could sleep in a nice bed. I don't want to live like this anymore.

I don't want to do anything the rest of the night as usual. I think about all of the shit I want to do all day and then by the time I get here, I don't have any motivation left. It's so annoying. I wasn't always like this. I already took a shower so now I just need to make food soon. I am going to relax and I will try not to stay up till 11:30 like I did last night. I hope that tomorrow will be a good day.

I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow. Thanks for listening to me vent about stuff. :) 💖💖💖

#personal

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rmorde · 10 months ago

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In the Hunter Sorcerer AU, Jinchul would be sent to South Korea before the events of JJK 0.

I'd have it after the third failed Jeju Raid. Jinchul Awakened as a Sorcerer which helped reduce casualties. However, Eunseok still died because Jinchul was too far away to provide aid... which does great wonders to Jinchul's mentality.

Gunhee allowed Jinchul be sent away to Japan for three reasons:

Jinchul can learn more about his new powers and utilize them better to help KHSA.

Politics. Dreaded and exhausting politics.

Give Jinchul a break away from the aftermath of Jeju Raid. ---> Jinchul blames himself for the deaths. One of the rare times he becomes infuriatingly stupid because how can he know he would be Twice Awakened? He did not let people die on purpose. ----> Sadly, people want to scapegoat and Jinchul is a very convenient one. Removing him physically from S. Korea (and the media spotlight) should hammer in the fact that he HAS NOT kept his Special Grade Sorcerer status for shits and giggles. Jinchul is a 100% newbie Sorcerer and needs training. He cannot and should not be blamed for the deaths in the Third Jeju Raid.

So, Gojo would have been training Jinchul for several months already before Yuta came into picture. At that point, Jinchul is sort of an instructor in Jujutsu Tech for melee and hand-to-hand combat.

Jinchul would have several involvements in the JJK 0 plot:

Training Maki enough to help her last until Toge and Panda arrive for 3 versus 1 against Geto.

Understanding survivor's guilt, grief, and Curses alongside Yuta.

Providing Gojo a much needed punch on the face for the mishandling of Geto's case. At the same time tho, he allows Gojo catharsis for the pain and grief he has been holding in for almost a decade after losing his "one and only".

He gets assigned to help out in Kyoto. Thus, meeting Mechamaru and providing him a better option in achieving a new body.

I would like to have some sort of interaction between Jinchul and Geto (or at least some of his cult). However, I'm not yet sure how it would go.

One thing is for sure tho, Jinchul's presence does not really change much of the events except prepare students more for the fight and provide a unique type of support to those who cannot exactly receive traditional help (Gojo's poor social EQ and Mechamaru's shitty circumstance).

Anyway, after JJK 0, Jinchul will still hang around for a while more before going back to Korea. He is no longer Chief of the Monitoring Division. He would instead be the Chief of the Sorcerer Division by virtue of his status as a Special Grade and an experienced A-Rank Hunter.

He still has a lot on his plate tho because he retains his status as Korea's liaison/ambassador with Japan's jujutsu society. Gojo's relationship with Jinchul further complicates things too. ---> The Elders are not amused that Gojo acknowledges a foreigner as his older brother (Hush. Jinchul does not know yet that Satoru adopted him into the Gojo clan. He is still trying to figure out how to break that tidbit of news to the guy). However, they cannot deny that Jinchul can be useful to them. They just have to figure out how to force the man under their thumb (They won't because Satoru pre-emptively adopted him).

Then, the Double Dungeon Incident happened. Jinchul's stress level is about go through the roof because of Jinwoo. ----> Gojo gets the novel experience of being the listener and reassurance-provider to a ranting Jinchul. He tries his best and asks for advice on how to be a good caring little brother much to the bewilderment of everyone. But he tries. He even offered to send people to the Infinite Void multiple times! --------> While people are confused with Gojo's change of behavior, they like it. Jinchul's a good influence. Gojo still has his antics but he now has better social awareness to communicate more (aka checking that people do understand his true meaning). His relationships are still rough but they're getting better slowly but surely.

#hunter sorcerer au #these brothers get a double dose of misery when shit hits the fan during jeju + shibuya #also adult adoption is apparently popular in jp?#i'd like to think gojo would use that to get jinchul as his legit older brother #but he kinda missed the implications and got misunderstood which complicates (but kinda simplifies) a lot of stuff for jinchul

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lovestuckyhatemarvel · 2 years ago

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It’s a rewatch and here are some thoughts on s2e3:

1.) I forgot the creature initially fits inside that small trap

2.) I forgot he has Yertle the Turtle

3.) forgot he fed that creature three musketeers

4.) also forgot that Dart was short for D’artagnan

5.) hey speaking of pets where’s the Byers dog?????? Oh ok I googled it and apparently the dog is dead according to at least 1 wiki but if the grave was shown this season, I missed it. Also to kill a dog off between seasons is dumb

6.) the conversation between hop and el is important but I’m stating to wonder if the reason I was surprised during rewatch is less future seasons and more fandom weirdness

7.) the Hawkins library has a 5 book limit but it’s very easy to take more

8.) Bob was afraid of a clown named Mr. Baldo and thinks Will is having normal dreams so gives the terrible but understandable advice to stand his ground

9.) I forgot how immediate Lucas and Max actually talk to about each other

10.) comparing Will to Phineas Gage is wild

11.) I forgot how funny it is to see Hop dance before the cleaning montage

12.) is Billy allergic to shirts?

13.) Nancy didn’t remember saying the bullshit stuff but also won’t say I love you

14.) will staring at dart like ‘I think I threw it up into my sink’. Gonna blame possession on his silence

15.) bob really wanted to be a husband and stepdad. The original ‘I love my wife’ guy but never gets to marry

16.) Owens is a moron and Hopper is understandably mad

17.) I forgot Steve sought Jonathan out and asked him to take Nancy home

18.) The more I think about Nancy interacting in romantic relationships the more I think the Duffer Bros accidentally wrote a lesbian experiencing comphet by being bad at writing women

19.) Joyce hanging up on Bob after getting tech advice is hilarious but also of course she’s the first person to catch that

20.) oh Will gave a partial truth about seeing it.

21.) of course my angel Max can pick locks

22.) this friend group fractures multiple times a year

23.) Nancy using a fucking phone to say she’s gonna be honest with Mrs. Holland about Barb was stupid

24.) I forgot El gets wicked jealous and knocks Max over

25.) Joyce hangs up on a lot of people

26.) I forgot Dart sent Will into the upside down by screaming

27.) I forgot Dustin hid Dart under his hat and lied about it

28.) I forgot this was when Will fully becomes possessed because he listens to Bob’s advice

#stranger things #stranger things rewatch #season 2 #s2e3

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nectardaddy · 8 months ago

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someone sent an ask about this earlier this week and I'm finally saying something about it. I deleted it because it made me upset but the basic premise was "don't give kids false hope" and "teach them about the real world"

it's not my job as a teacher to knock my students down a peg just to teach them about life. I give them resources and advice. not just send them on their way with a dream and nothing to hold onto.

if you want to write? here's some things you could do with that. which one do you like?

you like art? there's so many avenues you could take with that! do you like video games too? you could create for them!

do you like music? many avenues for that as well!! did you know that there's a thing called musical therapy?

don't want to go to college? that's fine!! (don't let the military think that's your only option) you like working on cars? here's some auto tech classes! like working with your hands? welding (underwater welding makes a lot!), construction, electrical work (aerial linemen make a lot too!)

don't know what you want to do? THAT'S FINE! it's silly to think people want you to know your career so young! I changed my major 4 TIMES! could you believe I wanted to be a mortician before I chose teaching? it's a jump right??

don't make kids think their dream is shit just because you don't have the resources for them. help them as you learn yourself! there's so many more options out there than you could even imagine.

so no, I'm not giving kids false hope. I'm seeing their dream and expanding on it. being the only one to see it and guide them through it rather than shut it down immediately. and I'm teaching them about the real world as I do this. navigating the real world is also about finding people who push you forward, not punch down.

if you a had a shitty teacher before in your life that didn't care about you as a person or told you rude things

I'm here to tell you, as a teacher, FUCK THEM YOU'RE AMAZING AND SO SMART AND CAN DO ANYTHING YOU SET YOUR MIND TO!

IT'S OK TO HAVE DREAMS, YOU DON'T HAVE TO GO TO COLLEGE IF THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU WANT, TRADE SCHOOL IS COOL ASF AND DOESN'T MAKE YOU LESS, ART IS NOT STUPID, WRITING IS NOT STUPID, DO WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY

#dodger rants #say what you want about teachers I really don't care #but I'll be damned if you think I'm a bad one

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junowritings · 4 years ago

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Hello! I just saw your Kalim x reader and my heart went boom!

Is there any chance that I can request a Neige Leblanche x Fem NRC student Reader?

*Where Neige falls for her quite literally and romanticly when she is setting up for VDC. But turns out his love is somewhat forbidden in a sense.*

please and thank you! Also, question! Have you seen Yuuekn for the twst manga? He's really cute in my opinion! Have a good day!

I’m so happy to hear that you liked that hun I had a lot of hun with it~! Also I feel like writing Neige on Vil’s birthday’s gonna get me cursed but it’s fiiiine~

Also HELL YEAH I’VE SEEN YUUKEN. That man threatened Crowley with a kendo stick what a legend I can’t wait for the next volume! --------

You were only supposed to oversee the others working as VDC was being set up, to go around checking on others progress and non-too-subtly marvel at all of the booths as they were being built and arranged in the appropriate locations.

Admittedly, you were probably only allowed free reign so you didn’t get in the way of the performers as they got in some practice for the final show. If the sharp look Vil had given you when as he’d practically herded you out was anything to go by, making yourself scarce till things cooled down was your best course of action, so you’d taken to keeping track of the backstage team, if only to see all the work that went into making this long awaited event happen.

It was just pure chance that one of the second years had caught you wandering between equipment and mistook you as part of the team. Before you knew it, he was handing you an imposingly large set of speakers and asking you to get them moved back to the stage, and perhaps if you’d been more firmer about refusing, then you wouldn’t have been scrambling towards the main area, weighty equipment in tow as you hauled them alongside you.

Fortunately, the work you’d been dragged into suited you just fine; you’d worked a few backstage gigs during previous school events, thanks to the headmaster’s brilliant idea to leave professional work to a bunch of minimally trained students (seriously, what does Crowley even spend the event budget on?). Thankfully, you were well prepared, and it looked like the other ‘volunteers’ were grateful for the extra set of hands too, as before long you were being approached by some of the first year workers, asking for your advice or help because they weren’t sure what to do.

You’re overseeing one such first year as he sets up the wires for the overhead lights, peering over his shoulder from where he’s crouched and guiding him when needed. When he plugs in the last of the cords he turns to glance up at you, wordlessly seeking your approval.

You grin and flash him a thumbs up. “Hey, great job. Told ya you could do it.”

At your response the student visibly relaxes, standing up and rolling off the stiffness from being stuck in such an awkward position for so long. He gives the lights a quick once over before shuffling back, releasing a sigh as he muses aloud. “Looks like that was the last of the tech setup; do you think we’ll be needed anywhere else?”

You give a noncommittal shrug. “Probably not; unless we’re needed down by the clubs I think they’re all set.”

Honestly, the work’s pretty much done by this point, and you’re sure that sooner or later you’ll be getting a call from Rook letting you know it’s time to rejoin the group. You’ve got to admit, you’re looking forward to seeing all of the boys’ hard work pay off - you know they’ve been busting their butts to polish their routine and you’re sure their nerves are kicking in right about now.

Maybe you could bring them something back from the stalls? A good luck charm or something to snack on to ease their nerves a bit - you’re sure Ace and Kalim would appreciate some of those ‘pick-me-up’ treats from those food stands they’d been eyeing near the entrance...

Something catches your attention from the corner of your eye mid-musing, and you find yourself pausing as you cast your gaze towards the stage. There’s several people on stage, and you know at a glance that they’re not part of the crew - the pristine white and blue uniforms were a dead giveaway as is, but as you watch the small group move along the structure you freeze, eyes narrowing.

Are those...kids?

You can’t be certain, given that you’re pretty sure this is a students only event, however you’re transfixed on watching them chatter happily to one another as they point at the different decorations strung up all over the venue. There’s one boy among them that you notice, namely because he’s the tallest of the small, merry group; his smile is bright and gentle as he laughs along with his friends, guiding two of them by the hands so that the group doesn’t get separated.

The sight is cute, no one can deny, and it's enough to tug a smile at the corner of your lips. The student beside you notices your silence and follows your gaze, gasping when he spots who you’re looking at.

“Wha-Neige is here already?!”

“Neige?” You look between the student and the boy, confused.

Now where have you heard that name before…

Your eyes widen when you remember. Of course, Neige Leblanche! That guy you’d seen from those interviews! You remember how miffed Vil had gotten when at the sight of the soft spoken boy when they’d worked a shoot together, just about dragging you and Rook out with him before Neige had even finished his segment. Apparently they were rivals or something, but you’d never gotten the chance to ask before Vil had shut that conversation down the moment it started.

Remembering the tempered scowl on Vil’s otherwise pristine face brought a frown to your own. What was it about this guy that he’d hated so much? The more you watched Neige the more he seemed about as nice as you’d expect, regarding his friends with a soft smile that radiated nothing but warmth and kindness as they swarmed around him, all smiles and laughter.

One of the boys tottered away from the group, wandering over to the edge of the stage to look down at the people still milling about. His fingers were wound into the scarf around his neck, pulling it up close to his face as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking around with curious eyes. Eventually, he spotted you off to the side and you found yourself smiling as you offered a small wave.

The boy’s face brightened and he didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, waving back and letting go of his scarf long enough for you to see him smiling back at you. You chuckled a little at the sight, but the little moment doesn’t last long before his face suddenly scrunches up, discomfort crossing his face.

“A-Achoo!”

He sneezes violently enough that it completely knocks him off balance, and your face pales when you watch him start to topple off of the stage. People have wrecked their ankles just trying to jump from that height, so the moment you see him start to fall you’re running to catch him, arms stretching out before you’ve even reached him.

“Ah! Snick!”

Neige notices his friend beginning to tumble and crosses the stage before you get there, calling out the boy's name as a hand reaches out to grab the back of that peach scarf and uses the garment to pull him upright. You’d have been relieved if the momentum of yanking him back hadn’t sent Neige falling right off in his place, and now you’re running to catch a different boy as you watch him go over the edge.

Fortunately, the split second difference between him and Snick gives you enough time to reach him, and Neige lands in your open arms not a moment after you get there with a gasp at the force. Mentally congratulating yourself for the good catch, you look down at the boy nestled in your arms, who looks back up at you with a surprised expression.

His hair’s skewed, hat having landed somewhere in the fall as soft black strands fall over his face and brush against his lashes. He’s close enough that you’re pretty sure that you can hear his heart hammering in his chest, and his eyes are wide - you guess he’s still shaken from the tumble - but up close you can see just how striking they are, a deep brown easing into a honey color.

‘No wonder this guy’s an actor,’ you find yourself thinking. ‘He looks like he’s straight from a painting.’

You shake the thought away and focus on the moment, lips parting to ask. “Are you okay?”

For a beat, Neige blinks up at you, speechless before breaking from his apparent reverie with a start.

“O-Oh! Y-yes, thank you.” you watch a pink hue rise to his face, dusting across his cheeks as he brings a hand to fix his collar, gaze never straying from your own.

Your expression softens at the response. How cute.

“Niege! Neige, are you okay?!”

A voice calls out, and you look up just in time to spot Neige’s gaggle of friends as they race down the stage stairs, moving to converge around you and the boy in your arms. The one who yelled - with silver hair and glasses - seems relieved when he sees Niege is unharmed, and Snick looks on the verge of tears as he shuffles to his friend’s side, bumbling apologies between sniffles.

Neige smiles and reaches out a hand to affectionately ruffle Snick’s hair. “It’s alright; I’m fine, everyone.”

The spectacled boy turns to you and bows. “Thank you so much for your help!”

You shuffle anxiously at the praise. “Ah, well, it’s no sweat, really - I’m glad I caught him in time! Heh…”

Both you and Neige sneak a look at one another, and as your eyes meet you become acutely aware of the fact that you’re still holding him to your chest. Masking your embarrassment with a cough, you loosen your grip enough for him to ease back onto his feet. He smooths out his sweater and you lean down to grab his hat, shaking it back into shape before moving to place it back onto his head.

You don’t think twice about tucking some stray strands of hair behind his ear until he lets out a soft “Oh!” and you fluster, bringing your hands to your chest as he mirrors the motion.

“Thank you for catching me!” he hums, words sincere as he gives a little bow of his own.

“It’s no problem!” you give an idle wave, rubbing the back of your neck as you add. “Besides, the headmaster would have my head if another school’s student got hurt on our school grounds!”

Neige raises a brow at your words, but laughs along with you when you chuckle.

“So, you guys are entering VDC, right?” you venture a guess, changing the subject, and you watch the group nod in various degrees of agreement.

“Yes! I’m looking forward to seeing everyone perform!” Neige beams at the mention of the event. “Are you a member of the NRC team…?”

He trails off, realizing he doesn’t know your name; when you tell him, he repeats the name back to himself softly, as though making sure to remember it.

“As for me? I’m not on their team, well, technically.” you find yourself hesitating for a moment. “I’m more of a manager, cheering on the team and helping out with set-up. Though, Vil’s been handling most of the work, heh.”

“Vil?” he parrots back to you, looking visibly delighted at the name Happy to ramble about your friend, you’re quick to continue.

“Yeah! He’s been working really hard with everyone to polish their performance - I swear, you’re gonna love it! He’s actually-”

“(Y/N)-!”

You freeze, head whipping in the direction of the voice, spotting Vil striding in your direction as the crowd parts seamlessly to move out of his way. You grin as you watch him approach, but your smile falters a bit when you see his expression. Though his face remains carefully neutral, you’ve known him long enough to recognize that he’s positively seething, and you have no idea what’s got him so angry.

Still surprised to see him, you shift to face him. “Oh, hey Vil! What are you doing-?”

“We need to go.” Vil’s voice is stern, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder guiding you away from Niege and back towards the way he’d come from.

“Wha-why?” you sputter, confused.

“The event’s nearly starting, and we’re up first - you’re going to be late.”

He punctuates each word carefully, though gives you a surprisingly soft smile and brings his free hand to rest against your back when he notices the confusion visible on your face. “The others are waiting for you.” he adds, as though working to ease your concern as he continues to walk with you.

“O-oh, okay.” you fumble for a moment before craning your neck to look back at Neige, giving him the brightest smile you can muster as you wave.

“See you later, Neige! Good luck with the performance~!”

Neige returns the wave, soft smile betrayed by furrowed brows as he watches your retreating form disappear back into the bustle of people. For a few moments he tries to spot you in the crowd before reluctantly giving up, bringing a hand up to his chest and lightly grasping his sweater between his fingers.

“(Y/N)...” he mumbles aloud, hoping to himself that this isn’t the last time he sees you today.

#Anonymous #twst #twisted wonderland #imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst neige #neige leblanche #neige x reader #neige leblanche x reader #request #ask

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

Text

Ready Player 01 | JJK x Reader | 🔞❤️☁️

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: dystopia!AU, former Game developer!Jk, former pro gamer!JK, former IT specialist!Reader, former programmer!Reader, romance, Smut, slight cyberpunk elements

Warnings/tags: injustice, forcefully controlled public, violence (police/government officials against citizens), unfair powerplay, interrogation, tech talk, Jungkook be antisocial as FUCK but so is the reader lmao wbk, fear of physical contact (Haphephobia), past trauma and mentions of a bad childhood, insomnia, crime, smut because yes it’s me hello my content isn't kiddy-proof in the first place what yall want from me I'm not sure, but that’s waaY at the end ya know, friends to lovers, a slightly sassy AI but we love her, reader struggles with emotions, I mean same tbh, they're both so sweet tho I cant, not proofread because let me live

Summary: there’s a war going on; silent, but it’s there. Media has been strictly become controlled and regulated- to the point of making it illegal to own a TV or phone with internet access without a valid license. But there’s always some people that will try to break free from the controlling force.

"-a new age. This is a new year. And remember; we're doing this for the greater good. Until tomorrow." The news reporter stops talking after she somberly looks somewhere behind the camera that is pointed at her.

Your room is dark- the TV brightness on it's lowest setting so you can see what's going on- but outside, no one can see the light shining in your tiny apartment. Investing in blackout curtains had really paid off at the end of the day.

You don't want to get caught.

There's an announcement van driving past your window; the tiny slits in your curtains where the light from outside can creep its way inside brightening a bit as the headlights pass your windows. Something is spoken, and by now everyone knows the routine speech.

"Electricity will be shut down in five minutes. We advice to save all progress immediately- and we wish a good nights rest. Electricity will be shut down in five minutes..-" It repeats, over and over, counting down the minutes. You slowly move into your kitchen, opening one of the loose floor tiles to turn on your own emergency electricity system. With well practiced movements you close the tile again, moving the rug over it as you walk back into your living room, swiftly sliding the TV behind your wardrobe to make it disappear. As if on cue; there's a knock at your door.

The same as always. Routine. Two times, loud and clear. You don't even have to look through the peephole to know what awaits behind it.

"Yes?" You ask, rubbing your eyes as if you had been already asleep. The officer behind the door nods at you shortly, a mild smile on his face as he looks down at you.

"We didn't mean to wake you miss. Just routine, as usual." He says, peeking into your apartment to look for any electronics still running. It's pitch black however- so he simply nods, as his colleague notes something into his tablet. "We wish a good nights rest miss. Again, sorry for intruding." He apologizes, and you nod, closing the door.

Only when the street lights turn dark, do you move from your bed.

"Creator." The AI voice chimes up, her voice greeting you as as you lift the tile on the floor again- your phone connecting to the AI to show information you instantly decode and note down inside your head. "Player01 has just connected." The voice states, and you sit down on your cold kitchen flooring, smiling a little. "He has sent a message. Would you like me to play it?" The voice asks, and you take a deep breath.

"Yes." You say, and there's a small sound indicating the start of the voice message. A male voice is head.

"Hey, whats up?" He asks, and you can hear something in the background- maybe an empty can or something similar. "I uh.. I'm on my way. Should I bring anything? Ah wait, I know the answer to that.." He says, chuckling at the end of his sentence, and you can hear him zip up his jacket as he moves around. "Yeah uh.. just text or something, I'll bring stuff over. Can't have you starve." He ends, and the AI speaks up again.

"Would you like to repeat the message?" She asks, and you shake your head at her; a signal the artificial intelligence has come to detect quite well. "Should I archive it?" She questions again, and this time, you nod- something your invisible assistant can pick up due to motion sensoring.

"Send him a message." You say. "Tell him: I only need you. Get yourself here in one piece and I'm happy. And I'm very capable of taking care of myself." You state, and your phone shows a small loading message- indicating that the voice is doing as you said. It chimes up after a moment. "Thanks Kana." You say.

"No problem creator. Would you like for me to run through the databases now?" She asks, and you nod, a smile on your face. "Database search in progress. Estimated time: sixteen minutes and eighteen seconds." You huff out a breath as you look at the tiny display on your arm; tiny, yet powerful as it's your way of keeping Kana- your AI assistent- close at all times. Tonight, there would seem to be a lot to dig through.

They really added a lot of content these days.

It's not the door that makes you notice that there's a visitor after a while- He never uses it anyways for some reason. You're sitting on your kitchen floor with a small cup of tea in your hands- kept hot inside a slightly beaten-looking thermos can since you can't use to water boiler at night. Using anything other than Kana would cause a spike the police would be sure to notice; and you're not ready to get caught yet.

Not tonight.

It's a boy who, after a moment, opens the unclosed kitchen window to climb in; his combat boots getting a little snow and dirt from the outside into your apartment as his 80's looking jacket makes distinctive noises as it brushes against the sides of your window. His blonde hair has grown out a bit these days you notice- the roots clearly showing. It's a little wet and slightly curly from the moisture. It must be snowing outside- or maybe it had. You couldn't know for sure.

You never left your apartment.

He closes the window after slipping on the tiles inside a little, the plastic bags noisy as he almost drops them- sheepishly taking off his boots as he smiles at you. His socks are different from one another- but that's another thing so distinctive and just so.. him. He's his own person, always has been; it's what brought you two together, after all. You both stood out against the 'regular public' these days; with his brightly almost white-bleached hair he was like an albino in a sea of crows.

But you knew he didn't need that to stand out to you.

You can still remember the first few times the boy in front of you has visited you; the times where he had just dyed his hair to rebel out, or when he pierced your ears in exchange for you to do it to him as well. It was like you had made a blood pact in your kitchen that night- you had somehow gotten closer, formed a little more than just a simple companionship in order to riot against the law. He began growing close. Gave you a nickname. Began calling you his player 2. Began calling you his 'ace'. He had explained that he thought of it from memories of his gaming days; the two fighting teams always called red and blue, and one of his favorite weapons having that nickname- simply because it always 'saved his ass last minute'. He had rambled on about his last tournament after that, eyes sparkling and cheeks round from cold noodles.

You had become friends.

"hey." He says after sitting close across from you on the cold floor; the opened tile and Kana's core exposed to you two, the only source of light apart from your bracelet. The colorful LED's paint marks on his face and illuminate his features to you; but it does the same to you from his point of view. It's a familiar sight. "How are you?" He asks, almost shyly, but you know that's not what's bothering him.

"Hey Jungkook." You simply say with the hint of a smile, as you answer him. "Haven't slept well these days but, what's new I guess." You chuckle, and Jungkook smiles too- though a glimpse of concern is still shown your way. He knows however that forcing you to sleep won't do much good- your insomnia was too bad to really conquer it in a day or two just by taking naps.

And also; who was he to talk about solving personal issues.

"Have you seen the most recent reports?" You ask him, and the boy somberly shakes his head.

"I was unable to." He states. "They were patrolling close to my apartment complex because there had been someone reporting a Glitcher today." A 'glitcher'- a slang word now commonly used for people like Jungkook and you. People who went against the nightly routines, people who tried to trick the system by using electricity at night, owning media, consuming it, or dealing with it. It somehow became worse than underground drugs. "They pulled him out at around twelve or so- but they seemed too on edge the entire day, so I didn't risk it." He says, and you nod. Jungkook had always been a very good person when it came to calculating risk versus reward. He was good at reading people too- even though he didn't interact much, he got out of his apartment a lot more than you did. "Anything important?" He asks, and you shrug.

"There was a report that China and Japan were still on edge- with the chinese government arguing that they would soon start with 'more drastic measures to get things under proper control', whatever that means." You say, and Jungkooks brows furrow as he starts to pick on the skin of his jaw. "Let's just hope the flood doesn't throw us under the sea as well if it escalates I guess.." You say, and the boy across from you nods.

"Creator." Kana's voice chimes up, making Jungkook look up before remembering that the only source would be your bracelet, which you look at as well. "My scan of your body shows that you have not consumed a sufficient amount of calories today. I recommend a meal in the next five to eight minutes to avoid malnutrition." She says, and you groan. "I take this as a form of verbal communication. Running data search..." She says, as Jungkook looks at you; thoroughly amused by the teasing banter between the AI and his friend. "My data search concludes that you are annoyed, creator. I have only stated a fact however-" She continues, and Jungkook steps in.

"I've brought some leftovers from my dinner today we can eat." He says, pulling out some plastic containers as he moves to get proper cutlery out of your drawers. He makes sure to push them towards you, making sure to nod with a smile as you nod and thank him a little embarrassed. "It's nothing. You know I love you too much to let you starve!" He states with a grin, bunny teeth on full display as bitterness creeps up your throat- something you make sure to swallow down before beginning to eat.

Because the kind of love he's talking about right now, is not the kind of love you want him to feel for you.

"You forgot to give it a proper validation there-" He points out as you type away. "Otherwise it will just run instantly, and everything at once. That could crash older systems, and we know that V95 uses an older laptop, so we should take that into account." He says, and you nod, clicking back to the spot Jungkook is talking about.

This is what you're both good for.

Writing code for you had always been something you did with a passion- simply because you were good at it. Numbers and short phrases were something you could remember with ease; but you never had to think much about the visual aspect of programs in your department back when you were able to work for a simple programming company. You had simply always been tasked to program security systems and automatically updating firmware, or simple AI's for factory robots. Jungkook however had been all about the visuals; he had been programming games after all. That's why you two fit so well together in this scene. Whenever he would be in complete awe of the broad knowledge you had about official guidelines and security breaches, of staying undetected and unseen while still gaining as much as possible from every single line of code, he could always throw in his input to make sure the program you were both writing and updating for the glitch community was easy to use and simple enough so it could run smoothly on as many systems as possible. Be it phone, laptops, PC's- you two made it possible.

This program was connecting Glitchers all over the globe- and with yours and Jungkooks knowledge, you made it almost invisible. And even if it was somehow detected; there was no possible way to track down any of it's users.

The fact that you had to hide a simple program from the government made you sigh.

"Okay. Yeah I think that fixed the bug." He says, and looks at your arm- at Kana. "Oh, by the way, Kana?" he asks, and the chime gives him the cue to talk. "I heard you had a bug-fix too recently." He says, and the AI chimes again.

"I did, Player01." The AI answers. "The addition of code to my current program has proven to significantly increase my ability to observe and save more data." The female voice answers, and Jungkook grins. "You are happy, Player01." She states, and he nods.

"I am." He says.

"Why is that?" The AI asks, and Jungkook shrugs.

"I'm just happy you're doing well. Someone has to take care of ace when I'm not close by, yeah?" He states, and you try not to react to it. Jungkook is by now used to your more stoic expression; you're not too emotional and barely let things get under your skin. You've been hurt before, he knows this even if you never told him- he can see it in the way you hide inside the safety of your home, how you're so cold on the outside but still clinging onto him. Sometimes he wishes he could touch you; run his hand over your head to ruffle your hair like in those cheesy movies, hold your hand, or simply give you some reassurance in the form of a gentle hand on your back whenever you struggle.

But he's got his own demons, and they love clinging onto him just as much.

"V95 has connected to voice chat. Would you like to talk to him?" Kana states, ripping him out of his thoughts as he watches you nod.

"JK? Y/N?" A deep voice asks.

"We're here. Heard there was a raid close to you?" Jungkook asks, and he can see you grow a bit more serious at that. "Are you okay?" He adds, and V answers, although quite.. tired?

"I'm good. They got Jimin though." He states, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair as you stand up, frustrated. Jungkook knows you're trying to calm down by pacing. He doesn't mind. "They didn't officially arrest him, took him for 'questioning' though. We know what that's about." He states somberly, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.

"Jimin is a master manipulator V. He'll get himself out of it, I'm sure." Jungkook tries to reassure, but it doesn't gain him much than a hum from Taehyung on the other end of the line. "What about Sleeper?" He asks, and a chuckle is heard.

"He's been checking the videofeed from inside the past few nights. He said he's send some of the big bites to Ace though?" He says, and Jungkook looks over at your form.

"Yeah I've seen it." You simply say, though Jungkook grows uncomfortable with the way you're suddenly standing there. You're a little hunched, biting the skin on your thumb as you look at the tiles as if they suddenly began to move. He knows himself that things inside the 'rehabilitation centers' weren't all that nice to see- but you rarely ever displayed so much distress over it. "Let's just hope Jimin get's his ass out of this situation. We can't afford to loose him." You say, and V stays silent before he sighs.

"Yeah. I tell sleeper you've seen the stuff. Oh, and our prince charming has asked for a date with Ace. Again." Taehyung chuckles, and you groan- while Jungkook can't help but clench his jaw. Kim Seokjin was a very good asset to the team; with connections reaching deep inside the government and his position as a former lawyer- but he still hated his guts.

You didn't need to waste your time dating. You were totally capable of taking care of yourself, you had even said it personally! And for anything else Jungkook would provide for you. You didn't need anyone else than him.

He was totally not jealous of him.

"Can he not use our underground connections for that circus?" You say. "I don't even go grocery shopping, why would I want to go on a fucking date?" You mumble, sitting down next to Jungkook as you take a spoonful of rice. Jungkook feels a weird sense of satisfaction about the situation.

"Who knows." Taehyung says. "Alright, 10 Minute mark- I'll hear from you two soon. Take care." He says, and you both say your goodbyes before the line goes silent.

Although Jungkook hates physical contact, he likes keeping you close.

His heart is melting like chocolate as he notes the way your hand grips his jacket tightly as the two of you walk through town to get your license renewed- a way of holding onto him, and he somehow wishes it could be his hand. He knows yours would fit so perfectly in his, and yet he can't bring himself to do it.

His body is not cooperating.

He remembers vividly how his fear had developed; with his father and mother both being dramatically overworked and overwhelmed with having a kid at a young age, they had no idea how to make a child behave. Every second touch would bruise, every time he had been held would be force.

And at some point, he started to dislike physical touch completely.

It had just been like his growing interest in freelance climbing- the way he would walk and jump high over the heads of unsuspecting people, away from all judgemental gazes they'd throw his way for behaving the way he did. Only when the wind could hit him freely, only when he couldn't make out faces of anyone down below, only when he was high up- that was when he felt safe. The ground below had nothing of interest for him, no point in going down, as his apartment was located on the top floor of the complex. Jungkook never took the elevator, always the stairs.

He liked being reminded how high he lived.

And yet, there's one thing that pulls him down, brings his feet to the earth below, calls him like a siren song. It's you, hidden away from everyone's sight inside your tiny home, just as troubled and judged as himself.

He'd fallen in love with you the second you told him his name.

It had been a rainy night, his clothes drying on your heater as he was wrapped in two of your blankets; the smell of your fabric softener and something so typically you surrounding him like a mother's hug would a child. It had given him a feeling of comfort he had never quite experienced before, and it had also been the first time he had imagined what it would be like to hug you.

To have you close.

He had explained to you why he had freaked out when you reached for his arm to steady him when he almost fell inside your apartment through your window; had apologized and bowed his head in shame until you had simply shrugged.

"You don't have to justify yourself to anyone, Jungkookie." You had said. Jungkookie. "You're you. And I like you." You had said, not looking at him as you typed in some code to Kana's internal system.

His heart had warmed up at that.

And while you had accepted him, he had accepted you just as much. While at first caught off guard by your quiet and sometimes harsh way of treating him, he had also gotten to know just how gentle and delicately you treated the ones you loved. You were a loyal person, always going out of your way to be helpful, and silently basking in praise any time it was directed at you.

He loved that view. The way your cheeks would grow warm, how your eyes would sparkle; and he loved most of all, that he had been, according to Taehyung who was the second closest to you, the only one to see you smile.

You even laughed with him.

It filled him with pride to know that you were able to let go around him, even if it was just a little. It made him feel like he did something huge. It helped him sleep at night knowing that you were trusting him enough to let down your guard a little.

And it hurt him even worse knowing that he couldn't do the same thing for you.

He was a coward-

and you deserved a hero.

"Ace?" He asked, slipping through your window as he noticed the apartment silent and dark. Nothing greeted him. "..Ace?" He tried again, maybe you were asleep? But your apartment was quiet, empty, nothing spoke of your presence. Dishes were in the sink, a cup of water left untouched on the counter, and something inside of him churned painfully at the way this looked. He checked the kitchen tile, sliding it to the side like he's seen you do it countless of times.

It was dark.

Instead, he was greeted by a post it note. "Underneath the bed. Take care." Was all it read. He stood up, pushing your bed away from the wall noticing how your carpet had been torn a little. And as he lifted the cut flap of carpet, there was an envelope.

Your watch. A small in-ear piece, and your old IT-identification, folded.

A noise outside your hallway made his head snap up as he pushed the bed back into place, making an escape for it as he climbed outside the window, watch safely inside his jacket as he climbed back up on top of a building, before he examined it further, turning it on, after putting the earpiece in.

"Hello, Jungkook." Kana greeted him, and it felt weird to hear the AI say his name like that. "Creator has advised me to answer all questions you might have, and assist you from here on." She said, and Jungkook simply put the watch on, making his way to his own apartment.

"What happened?" He asked, his face serious as he walked.

"At around 6:12 O'clock, creator was taken into further questioning regarding illegal possession and knowledge of classified information and technological equipment. She had shown no resistance and complied with authorities. My observations however showed that she was taken with more force than necessary." Kana explained. Jungkook shook his head. "She had prepared for this instance during the night, approximately twenty-six minutes after you had left."

"She knew?!" He suddenly said, shutting his apartment door violently as he started to pace around, throwing his jacket on the couch. "Why didn't she contact me?"

"Analysis; your body shows signs of-" Kana started, but Jungkook interrupted.

"Shut up. Why didn't she tell me?" He asks again, and Kana seems to hesitate for a moment.

"Considering her close relationship to you, she probably wanted to not get you involved." She stated, and Jungkook sighed, sitting down on his couch as he gripped his hair. He should've stayed. Hell, it wasn't the first time he wanted to stay. He had dreamed of staying over, of fucking living with you for months to no end by now, but he was a coward. And this was his paycheck.

"Kana." He said lowly, and the small tune gave him the cue to talk. "Contact V95. Tell him it's urgent. We got an emergency." He says.

"I can't watch this." He says, jumping up and holding onto his head as to not punch his wall, unable to go through the videofeed of your interrogation room.

There's not much to see, but Jungkook knows that's simply because they haven't had the time to see to you yet. You and him knew best what really happened in these rooms, and he hated knowing that deep down they wouldn't go easy on you simply because you were a young woman. It didn't matter to them.

He'd seen teenagers way younger than you and him getting the rough treatment before- and elderly didn't get spared either.

The government bragged about having everything in order; yet they couldn't even control their own law enforcement it seemed. When he really thought back on his history lessons in school, not much had changed at all.

The world was still in utter chaos.

His palm shuts his laptop harshly- earning a tiny chime from the AI he’s already forgotten shares his home with him now. “I suggest that you practice care in treating your electronics to-“ he groans, successfully shutting it off at that. “Why are you frustrated?” It- she? Asks, and he sits down.

“I don’t know how to help her.” He admits in shame, thinking back to the footage of your hidden camera; the way they had pushed you to the ground, before grabbing you, leading you out of your apartment a few minutes away from him. “I don’t know what I should do.” He says.

There’s a bit of silence, until the AI speaks up again. “Do you have a romantic interest in my creator?” She asks, and his head snaps up at that.

“What the fuck? Why would you ask me this?!” He barks, unsure where to look since he can only hear the voice.

“I have observed both my creator and your behaviors; you seem to have a very deep rooted interest in each others well-being and opinions. This is commonly found in partnerships. I was only asking you to confirm if my assumption is correct.”

He’s silent for a moment, until he speaks again, watching the announcement van pass his window; voices dull and unintelligible though the walls and windows. “It’s no use anyways. Who wants someone they can’t even shake hands with?” He sighs, looking into his lap again. He hates that he’s like this; that even though he very much loves and adores you, there’s no magic moment that makes him forget- even though he craves the contact, he can’t do it. Every time he’s close to you, he knows that he could simply hug you; or let you rest your head on his shoulder, like in romantic movies. He wants to hold your hand, wipe your tears- but his body won’t cooperate. He can’t do it.

Not even with you.

“Creator seems very comfortable with you.” The AI states. “I have been asked to archive all text messages and phone calls of you two recently. When I asked for a reason, she claimed she would need it someday- I was unsure what she meant.” Jungkook furrows his brow, raising his head again. “Sometimes, when creator is deeply upset, she has the habit of playing some of the recordings of you singing, or reminding her to take care. My research has shown that it slows down her heartbeat to a more normal level and also improves her insomnia.” Jungkooks eyes widen at that.

Does that mean.. that you like him back?

"Kana, fuck- cut the feed." He says, agitated.

"Are you sure?" She asks, and he sighs, before yelling his frustration out, sitting down to take a deep breath. He slowly shook his head no. He couldn't let all your hard work go to waste like this.

He couldn't stay a coward.

"Jungkook, it appears to be that the creator is being let go." Kana suddenly chimes up, and Jungkook rushes to his pc setup to see for himself. And she's right- your arm is being held tightly, and something is being said to you, but your hands are no longer chained to the chair- you're free.

What just happened?

Jungkook sometimes really hates himself for being the way he is.

There's no sugarcoating it that you need comfort now more than ever, even though you don't openly show it to him. He can see it in the way you're still biting your nails, he can see it in your eyes which never stay on one point for too long. And he can definitely see it in the bruises on your upper arm, and the cut on your lower lip where you had bitten in anger and frustration. He wants to comfort you, he knows you'd let him- and yet he can't move any closer than where he is right now; only the length of his palm of space between you two. And yet it's like his joints are locked into place. He can't touch you.

What if he hurts you?

And it dawns on him right then and there while he watches you drink your can of overly sweet soda while typing your code like second nature, that he's not scared of you hurting him. He's scared of doing to you, what's been done to him. Because deep down he is aware that his parents never had bad intentions, never hated him or wanted him to suffer; they were simply unsure and not at all confident in how to really care for a child. They had been caught off guard and gotten overwhelmed by the sudden shift in their situation that they never truly knew what to do. And nowadays he felt like he was simply heading down the same road.

He was starting to feel like he was becoming just like them.

"Hm?" You ask him, ripping him out of his thoughts as he looks at you, your eyes wide and worried as you put down your almost empty can of soda. "What is it?" You ask him, and he wants to scream. He wants to throw a fit like a child at the way you seem to worry for him every time you should worry for yourself. He's a coward, he's useless, he's everything you don't need nor deserve in his eyes, and yet you always look at him like he's the main character of your favorite movie.

If he was, he was sure he'd be merely a sidekick- because you deserved to be the focus of every story told in his eyes. And if you weren't included in the tale, he knew he didn't want to ever know about it.

He swallows, before he manages to make his hand move, finger pointing at your arm where a green-ish bruise already formed. "Does it hurt?" He asks, and he's not even sure if he's asking you about the bruise, of if he's asking something else. He doesn't know what he's saying, doesn't even know if he's asking you or himself.

"No." You answer, and he looks at you, searching for any hint of a lie in your eyes. But he only sees that slight smile, lips turned a little, almost unnoticeable. But its there, he can see it, and he wants to print it into his mind to never forget it. You were so observant, knew him so well, that he was almost certain you knew of his inner fight and what he really meant with his blurted out question. "Are you okay?" You ask him, and he swallows again, eyes stinging with unshed tears as his body grows rigid like an unoiled machine, only moving with as much force as he can manage to come up with. His breathing is heavy as his eyes can't leave the spot on your arm, and your watch him with wide eyes as his shaking hand slowly reaches out.

He doesn't know what he expects to really happen.

Maybe like those electric shocks you get when someone had rubbed their socks on a carpet before touching someone else. Maybe he had expected to recoil instantly. Maybe he had expected nothing- but he was suddenly in a rush the moment his fingertip touched your warm skin, delicate, soft, everything his rough hands weren't.

And you were still as prey in front of a wolf.

But the wolf in this scenario was holding his breath while his tears finally fell. He wants to speak, but he can't, he doesn't know how to ask for something when he doesn't even know if he wants it.

But suddenly he moves again, his palm now resting fully against your upper arm, shaking, as it moves over the length of it, softly, as he imprints the way your soft skin feels. "Jungkook.." You whisper out, and he suddenly snaps, leans forward, his legs on either side of your body as he snakes his arms around you from behind, pulling you close to his chest. You can feel him shake as he holds you, his cheek resting against your back and you don't care about his tears staining your shirt as he suddenly cries openly and possibly for the first time since he was a mere child.

He's unsure, overwhelmed, because you're so warm, you smell so nice, you're so soft, and he can't let go, doesn't want to let go. He whines out as you turn a bit as he thinks you're moving away but you're simply placing your legs over his as you sit in his lap, hugging him back as you make sure to give him a gentle squeeze.

He calms down after a long while of simply existing. Of breathing you in, of feeling you. "You're right." He whispers into your neck, and you can't help but shiver, leaning into his hug.

"It doesn't hurt at all."

"You know, I get why you come up here." You comment, as Jungkook makes sure to hold your hand tightly in his, your feet dangling off the edge of the building you're sitting on top of. "It's nice." You say.

He's not listening that well though.

All he can really do is watch your face, illuminated by the neon lights of the city, hair swaying in the wind as you look down below. He doesn't quite know what you two really are, doesn't know how long it will take him to really come out of his shell and give you the love you deserve, but he's trying. He's fighting, he's left his cowardly self behind.

He want's to change.

And not just for you alone, because while he hates seeing you hurt, he knows what you two are doing- what all of you are doing- is for the greater good.

Jungkook hates your ideas sometimes.

Simply because he knows they will work, but also end up with you getting into danger at the end of it. And just like now, all he can do really is hope that you make it out as he keeps a watchful eye on your movements from above, giving you directions via Kana as you sometimes trip and stumble a little.

You're not a very active person; running wasn't really your thing.

Fuck, you were basically a hermit, the most you walked around was from your bedroom into the kitchen!

But then again, sacrifices had to be made somewhere. And Jungkook really admired you; because every time he thought that you had reached your limit, you would face it head first and break through it.

"Ace, try and somehow get to higher ground. They're caging you in from all sides." He urgently tells you as he watches police chase you down the roads, pushing citizens aside to not loose sight of you.

The plan had been simple. Gain all the attention so Taehyung could infect one of the police station's servers with a new worm, giving you all a better and easier access to any data and communication of the area. Jungkook couldn't play the bate well enough; and you had been on their radar already, making you the best option to gain their interest quickly enough.

Although Jungkook hated that part.

"Come on, ah fuck it." He grits out, jumping down to grab a ladder, making his way to a nearby area he could pull you up. There was no way you could reach any of the fire ladders yourself, and by now, things were getting too hot for him to risk anything. "Here!" He barks out, not thinking twice about grabbing your hand and helping you upwards, trying not to worry too much about your heavy breathing. And then there's it.

A pop, loud, followed by another, and another, and another. You're suddenly falling, scraping your knees on the ground below as he can't catch you, too startled by the fact that they had actually decided to shoot to react quick enough. "Fuck!" He says, eyes wide and pupils blown as he looks at you.

"Jungkook, why the fuck aren't you running?!" You yell at him, a scratch on the top of your left cheek as you push his leg away from you- the only thing you can reach. "Go!" You bark again, and he growls out something, before he manages to pull you onto his back, adrenaline not letting his brain process what he's doing.

He can't just leave you.

"Taehyung, get out, Ace has been shot. Whatever was uploaded has to be enough." He says via the in-ear piece, doesn't wait for a response. He still gets it.

"Fuck, what?! Okay okay, I'm out" He says, and Jungkook can only catch a glimpse of the older man leaving the building via the backside entrance. He's only concerned with getting you somewhere safe.

"Urgh." You groan, slowly sitting up on Jungkooks couch. "I mean, I know paintball hurts, but rubber bullets? Jesus.." You complain, while Jungkook looks at you with a dark expression. "What?" You ask him, and he huffs.

"You sound like you haven't almost been killed yesterday." He grimly says, and you shrug. "Stop. I'm serious." He tells you, and you let yourself fall back down onto his couch.

"Whatever. At least we killed their communication." You say, closing your eyes. "Must've at least pissed them off." You say.

"Kana." Jungkook suddenly says, waiting for the familiar sound to tell him she's active. "Shut down for now." He says, and you sit up, hissing instantly at the sudden movement.

"Hey- ah fuck!" You say, as you watch on your bracelet how Kana complies; shutting down. "Why would you do that?" You say in an offended matter, before you grow quiet, watching him go onto his knees in front of you, as he lets his head rest on top of your lap.

"I just want.. you to myself. Just.." He mumbles, and you slowly bring your hand to his hair. "Just for a moment." He says, and you sigh. Jungkook had been under a lot of stress recently, you no doubt being the main cause of most of it recently. So you simply let him be, as he closed his eyes. "Y/N?" He asks suddenly, and you answer him. "I love you." He says, and your body stops moving.

What?

"It's okay if you don't." He says, not moving from his spot, and neither opening his eyes. "I mean it. I only want you to know." He explains further. "Because I.. couldn't fucking live with myself if something happened to you, and I've never told you." He admits, and you can't help but stare at him. Jungkook looked down on himself so much that it was sometimes frustrating to see; simply because you saw him as such an amazing human being with countless talents and beautiful flaws.

You knew you couldn't muster up the strength to actually answer him; not so spontaneously. You weren't that expressive, you couldn't communicate as freely and colorful as he could. All your words seemed black and white to you, mixing into grey and mundane sentences while his words seemed to bloom into the most amazing paintings. He had a way of charming those around him- and he didn't even know.

You slowly leaned down instead, moving his hair to the side as you placed a feather-light kiss to the top of his cheek, close to his eye.

You hoped he would somehow understand you.

And as he moved again, looking at you with eyes that sparkled brighter than any city's skyline ever could, you knew he did.

He'd always understand you, no matter how you communicated with him.

You didn't need words to understand each other.

The shy kiss you two shared, bathed in the purple glow of the neon lights outside his window, spoke enough.

"You should try and sleep." Jungkook tells you, taking away your can of soda as you whine at him. "No buts. Come on, I'll finish this for you." He says, and you let him take over the keyboard of your laptop. It's something you really only let him get away with- anyone else would've probably lost a finger or two trying to touch your work.

You don't trust anyone but him at this point.

"I know that Kana snitched." You comment, as you lean your back against his shoulder. He chuckles. "Can't believe my own creation goes behind my back like that." You mumble, and Jungkook has a light tune to his voice as he speaks.

"Well, it's a good thing though." He tells you. "I worry about you." He says.

"Ugh come on, you know that's not the part I meant." You laugh, and he grins.

"Oh, you mean the part where you listen to my crappy ass singing to help you sleep?" He tells you with a teasing undertone. "No wonder you got insomnia trying to find rest to that." He chuckles, and you playfully hit his thigh.

"Shut up, your voice is nice." You say, and he's glad your eyes are closed, and you can't see him blush.

Somehow, moments like these re-energized him again. Because it proved to him that there was still a piece of that innocent and untainted you inside that thick shell you had put up to protect yourself. And considering that you let him see you like that made his pride grow taller than any of the skyscrapers of his city.

Maybe one day the two of you will have a future together that won't be so difficult and unfair like your current one was. Maybe one day, you both will have changed enough to teach the next generation about what you've overcome.

But then again; living in the moment seemed to fit a lot better in his eyes, as he watched you sleep soundly against his shoulder.

Yeah, this moment was more than enough for now.

The world won't change over night- you both know that. All of you know that. But small things were starting to make a difference here and there; for example, the letter you held towards Jungkook as his eyes widened.

"..and we have officially decided that we no longer want to participate in the case against the defendant. The result of this agreement is that all charges against Y/N L/N have been dismissed and are no longer being investigated." He reads out loud, almost whispering as if saying it too loud could make it a lie. "They let you go?" He asks, and you nod, the small bandaid on your cheek making you look even cuter in his eyes as you shrug.

"Jimin had reached out too. They've let him go home as well." You say. and Jungkook huffs out in disbelief.

After infecting the police station with the worm you had all worked on, you had scared the entire country enough to take a step back from the overall aggressive tone. It wasn't much- but it meant that they knew you were there. You existed, and you were not bowing down.

You were still untamed.

Jungkook smiled brightly as he put the letter down to the side, reaching out to you to pull you onto his lap. He simply holds you for a moment, his lips kissing the skin of your shoulder as if in a trance. "I love you." He tells you, and you smile, squeezing him a bit in your arms. "I really do." He assures you, and you nod.

You don't answer him, and he doesn't seem to mind as he leans back from you, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he grins, hands holding your face so delicately as he places a kiss onto your lips, making you close your eyes as he breaks away from you, letting you rest your head against his shoulder.

He's still not letting anyone very physically close other than you; he's still scared of going out and around like everyone else. You're still rather hiding inside his apartment- both of your apartment now- and you still have trouble sleeping.

But Jungkook keeps the nightmares away.

And you make him brave in exchange.

It's really weird to hear the sound of a radio nowadays.

Things are still far from normal- but recently, citizens had been given radios to listen to public broadcast again. It only played crappy music with some rare good tracks here and there, but it was better than nothing.

Jungkook couldn't help but think that your breathless voice was far more entertaining than any music station he can remember from his youth.

While he hates touching other people, even friends and family, he can't help but feel a rush whenever he touches you.

His hands can't stop on one specific spot, can't seem to stay still even for a moment as his lips nip and suck at the flesh of your neck and shoulder, marking what's his, visualizing that you really belong to him. He bears the same mark on his collarbone from last night, and he should have been satisfied, but even an early morning couldn't keep him away from you.

The rain hit the window harshly, but he didn't notice at all. All his eyes could see was your form underneath him, skin glowing as he moves above you, euphoria filling his veins as he can't look away from where you're connected, where his cock disappears inside of you over and over and over again.

"I love you." He breathes out as he comes undone, holding you close, resting his head against your shoulder, as you hold onto his arms, a smile, a genuine and big smile thrown his way as he can't help but smile along.

"I love you too, Jungkook." You say, and he chuckles.

The radio in the background still playing, as you lay in each others' arms.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please stop reposting my content on AO3 thinking I won't find it. I'm literally everywhere you clowns.

To everyone else: Thank you for reading this mess- I really apologize for the messy storyline, but I just wanted to put this out before the entire thing escaped me again and I would end up struggling to find my way back into it (cough cough flashback to mean lmao). I promise to somewhat post more regularly. Thank you for your kind words and for sticking with me!

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions

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