#I genuinely am debating not using this site anymore in response to all of this

[bottomvalerius]

The cognitive dissonance this site had when Tumblr officially dropped a merch store and made BS badges and plenty of trans women AND OR black women came on here practically begging people not to give the founders of this site money, citing years of repeated, unwarranted bannings & censorship, and the collective response was “don’t tell depressed people how to spend their money—this fake badge gives us joy” as if this isn’t the EXACT line Harry Potter fanatics describe with that IP like. I will judge you!! I will judge you for spending $$$$ on a site that actively antagonizes trans women and silenced black voices!! Something else will bring you joy that you can buy. Stop picking and choosing when and how you show up for women on this fucking website

[thatdebaterguy]

Usually I would go anon but I am at the point where I don't care what people think anymore. I would rather be honest and have these people off my blog than keep doing it in secret.

Anyways, I was scrolling through a post (because I hate myself). Tumblr wouldn't let me put the link for some reason:

This isn't the whole post, but 2/3 of it. It's about how Israel was "tricking" children into picking up bombs that looked like food cans. Someone corrected this in the comment section.

And in response to the correction (there was more than one person correcting):

This is a massive issue I've seen with that side of the conflict. They don't care if the information they spread is true as long as it fits the narrative of "Palestine = weak, helpless, 100% good and pure victim. Israel: evil, colonists, eats Palestine babies for breakfast." And it's almost scary the lack of critical thinking to make sure everything fits into this mindset.

I once corrected someone's mistranslation on Pinterest of all places, where someone said a Hebrew translation was ""May this (bomb) lands on innocent people". It was just the company name. I was attacked and told I was a "genocidal zionist" and there was my favorite, "well it doesn't matter if it's true or not, it's what they mean".

So basically, "yeah it doesn't matter if it's fake information, it fits with MY beliefs, so it's okay."

I hate the Pro-Palestinian cult.

It is genuinely depressing to see blatant misinformation spread, for example I've been given the link to a site that takes supposed quotes from Israeli officials completely out of context, half the time a complete lie, and told it's some kind of proof Israel is the epitome of moral sin, despite being the most equal state in the middle east. I saw this post and saw another one debunking how the imagine has been altered in a misleading way, just as I saw a post of a server room that's linked to a Hamas database under an UNRWA facility, and someone said it powered a solar panel. Keep in mind they didn't lie for the Palestinian civilians, that was to straight up cover for Hamas.

The screenshot of someone calling Hamas 'freedom fighters' is actually scary.

this is the first thing you see when you search for the ideology of Hamas. Yk the worst part? This would be called zionist propaganda just because it says Hamas have committed terrorism, and October 7th happened. These are literal facts though, Hamas are proud of October 7th, proud of killing thousands, kidnapping hundreds, committing acts of terrorism. If you have any sense of morality, you cannot defend Hamas, even if you see them as on the right side or as freedom fighters, their methods alone make them a monstrous organisation. They wear plain civilian clothes in war, a war crime, they have been verified to use civilian buildings for cover, a war crime, they've killed thousands of innocents purposefully, a war crime, they've openly called for the annexation and occupation of Israel, a sovereign country with millions of ethnic Jews who would be 3rd class citizens in a Hamas ruled Palestine.

Israel doesn't want Gaza. They don't want to destroy it, to own it, they wish they never had to hear about it again, let alone invade it to remove Hamas from power. And the fact that people are scared to voice their beliefs against a literal terror group, against misinformation, is insane. You know, the only reason I'm on Israel's side is because when it comes to debates I follow the science, the figures, the statistics, a fixed code of morality and logic, and that leads to me to Israel because they've never instigated a conflict in their entire history, they've voluntarily surrendered land in pursuit of peace, aided the countries that have invaded them, they're by the definition not committing genocide, they're legally and factually in a war of self defence to topple an extremist dictatorial government, the figures show as far as modern urban warfare goes, the civilian-military death ratio is lower than most conflicts, they factually have a historical claim to the land, they built Tel Aviv, built Jerusalem, 400,000 Jews lived the region of Israel before its existence as a modern state, it just all points to Israel.

But I support the people of Palestine, I empathise with them, I want them to be free of the dictators who lead them to this war and suffering they must endure, and I pray they'll get the liberation they deserve. They deserve better than the nightmare of a government that rule over Gaza. And yet none of the Palestinian supporters protest Hamas. They don't realise, protesting against Hamas doesn't weaken the right for civilians to receive aid, because they're forced into this mindset that the Palestinian government and movement has always been one of perfect ineffable morality and one that you must be insanely villainous to even have any contradicting thoughts on. I'm a more conservative guy who's best friend of 4 years recently told me that they're genderfluid, in a polyamorous relationship with a trans man, and have a 'fursona' but since I know they're a person with good intentions in life I support them in finding happiness and getting better. I'd say that makes me fairly open minded, without tooting my own horn too much. But I will never be open to the idea that Hamas have ever wanted what's best for Palestine. Their actions are selfish, their goals are psychopathic, their behaviour is unwarranted, and their care for being a successful governing body is minimal. Gaza, whether prospering before October 7th or not, was legally an independent, sovereign region of the nation of Palestine, who have their own government, constitution, voting system, currencies they operate with, culture, freedom of movement, unless it's to Israel of course, and have been so since Israel pulled out of Gaza.

Israel actually occupied Gaza once. It was better maintained, the people were more looked after. In the years before Israel pulled out of Gaza, the Palestinian economy grew by the largest margin in at least 20 years, and then under Hamas, became incredibly stagnant, with foreign aid being the only thing propping it up. They let unemployment skyrocket despite the opening of more high tech facilities, once again thanks to foreign aid. Now, Israel doesn't want Gaza back, nor should they have it, but when the people of the nationality that Hamas wish to destroy, governed their land even better despite not even being the sovereign owners of that land and just the occupiers, it says a lot. Don't be afraid to speak out against Hamas, since you have no love for the Palestinian people if you don't want them to be free from the suffering Hamas has brought.

[earth-scented]

I am of the opinion that Cody and Satori are extremely sus and I would like more debunking before I will believe they are real. If they are not frauds they should be willing to do more experiments, so I guess we will see. I think the next move is on them tbh, they are being called out, now we wait and see what they do and how they respond, the way they do both these things will give us an answer I think.

However I do not believe Sam and Colby are in on it at all, their reactions are too genuine for me to believe that so if Cody and Satori are scam artists/fakers then in my eyes SnC got played just as much as their audience.

Also in relation to your comments about 'deleted messages' the disappearing comments that you speak of have been explained as certain algorithms that come with certain sites, especially youtube any posts with links in for example, the youtube algorithm will automatically delete as ironically youtube has measures to protect against bots posting scams and things like that, often posts with links or certain words the site automatically erases.

Plus we know SnC don't really read the comments on youtube videos anymore (especially Colby) as they have stated as such in interviews they've gotten to the point where they just can't do it anymore which is actually really sad. So any deletions on that platform not related to the algorithm have probably been done by a member of their team whose job is likely to manage their youtube socials and keep it positive so will erase anything too negative.

The one place I've seen them interacting with comments about the series regularly has been on Instagram, everywhere else they appear online for a very limited amount of time and maybe reply to one thing each. I've not seen disappearing comments on these other platforms myself but feel free to tell me I'm wrong.

I will say I suspect they probably ignore a lot of the comments calling Cody and Satori out because a lot of them go about it in a very negative and unfriendly way which a person can only take so much of. So maybe we'd get more of a response from them on this topic if we were not so aggressive on the topic, and approached it more as a friendly debate I dunno.

But yeah, my two cents after seeing your last anon reply which seemed to imply you thought SnC were in on it all.

If they weren't in on it then, they certainly are now.

Like i said, they're choosing to push the whole "this is a life-changing thing" narrative, knowing very well it's a fraud. First episode was released in theaters, they got huge sponsorship moneys plus the entire series gives off "the new & improved conjuring house management" advert. Anyone with two brain cells can see this is a business deal involving a lot of money and legal documentation and nobody's gonna give statements, address anything or explain themselves unless it's prearranged and benefits both sides.

Satori's dad is well known for faking evidence on Ghost Hunters, she was literally raised into industry. Cody has been clicking his whatever for years on camera, before they met. Them claiming they don't take money for it is simply a lie because they run a website, a traveling museum, sell merch and get paid as the CH employees so what the fuck do everyone think that is, if not taking money and making profits? Which is fine! Just don't lie about it.

Comments are censored either by youtube settings or their production team. They're not some kids running around with a camera anymore, they have people paid to do stuff. It's their business and livelihood. I don't understand why are people so blatantly oblivious to that.

When money, fame and relevance are involved, integrity often goes out the window.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

notoriously yours | jay park

✰ summary: jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally.

so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)?

and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?

✰ pairing: jay park x y/n [ft. members of enha]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy, angst | fakedating!au, college!au, childhoodbestfriends!au, (kinda) e2l!au

✰ warnings: cursing, nothing suggestive but jay's a fuckboy so slightly suggestive themes, mentions of parental neglect/leaving, it's hella long (and i thought my last fic was long)

✰ wc: 14.7k (how did i get it this long oh lord)

✰ author's note: picture creds go to original owners/editors! peep that edit of jay that lowkey inspired this entire fic 👀also this took me so, so long bc i lost motivation half way thru and bc college is a thing,,,so i honestly don't know how to feel abt it so pls bare with me :')))) ALSO the dividers are weird bc idk how to add more than 10 pics for the dividers so pls excuse those ٩(× ×)۶i hope u guys enjoy!! <333

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Jay Park is a rich kid.

Jay Park has enough to buy every textbook he needs for his courses without having to look up the free versions online. Jay Park has enough to bribe his professors to let him pass every class with a perfect 4.0 GPA (but because the boy has morals, he doesn't). Jay Park has enough to afford a car to drive to his furthest class from his dorm building instead of walk or bike like every other college student, meaning he also has enough to afford a parking spot on campus (those things aren't cheap!).

Jay Park walks around your school's campus like he owns the place (and considering the amount of money his family has donated to the school, he practically does), looking like he just walked out of your local coffee shop's newest fashion magazine. His blonde hair is never seen untouched, his attire usually consisting of an undoubtedly high-end all-black fit, accessorized with multiple earrings and rings that probably cost more than all the overpriced textbooks you had to rent out this semester. It's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park.

Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.

Well, his friends beg to differ.

In their eyes, Jay Park has everything but a simple factor in the equation of love (or whatever love is to the minds of a couple of 19 year olds): commitment.

So yes, it's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park. Because everyone knows he's the campus' rich fuckboy. (What's a college fanfic campus without one anyways?)

Jay doesn't go unreminded of this by his friends, to the boy's annoyance.

Jay is aware of this on a Sunday afternoon, in his dorm building's first floor lounge, where he and his said friends are having a study session.

They're doing anything but studying.

In fact, no one has any books out or anything. Not a single laptop in site.

"You don't think it's the slightly bit concerning?" Jake's words are muffled as he continues munching on the fried chicken that he spent majority of this study session debating if he should have it delivered through UberEats or not.

"I really don't, no," Jay shrugs as he continues mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. They're having the same argument conversation that they've revisited multiple times over the course of their friendship, one that Jay has been lectured on too many times for his own good. He thinks his friends could become his new parents if they really tried.

"Look at it this way, okay. You're about to graduate college in a couple of years, into the big world. Like the actual, adult world. And that means you'll have to settle down. Which you can't do when you. have. no. commitment!" Jake punctuates each word with a single clap of his hands, desperate to get his point across.

Jay simply rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sunghoon, who's minding his own business, not bothered by the same topic he's heard over and over again. His eyes tell Jay you're on your own, in response to his blonde-haired friend's look of despair.

Jay thinks that maybe he should get new friends. Yes, that's the only solution here.

"My love life," Jay reaches across the table for a drumstick from the greasy tub seated in Jake's lap until Jake swats his hand away, "is none of your business. Also, ouch."

"Uh, it kinda is. Because of you and your reputation around campus, it kinda affects us, your best friends. How do you think we look, hanging out with the guy who's known to ghost every girl in existence after one night with them? No offense to you," Jake deadpans to him. Jay mentally reconsiders the term best friends.

Tough love. Jay tells himself it's tough love.

"Yes, because every girl totally hates Jake Sim, the teacher assistant of a physics class who volunteers at the pet shelter every Sunday and brings their pet golden retriever to campus every two weeks," Jay rolls his eyes at his Australian friend.

Jake sighs. "Okay, then I'm coming from a place of worry for you."

Jay groans. "Again, none of your business!" This doesn't stop Jake. He comes from good intentions, really, but Jay wants nothing more than to stuff the kid's mouth with some of that chicken to shut him up.

"What are you gonna do if one day you meet someone you like, genuinely like, and you screw yourself over because you've never been in an actual relationship before? A real, committed one. Like one that lasts at least three months."

"You don't think I can last three months in a relationship?" Jay questions the boy currently taunting him.

"Honestly? No. What's the longest relationship you've been in?" Jake cocks an eyebrow at his friend across from him.

One month and two weeks. But Jay's smart enough to not say that out loud.

"I can so last over three months," Jay mutters more to himself than Jake.

Jake laughs at that, pausing to take another bite of the drumstick in his hand. "Jay, I am willing to actually bet you. Bet that you wouldn't be able to." He leans back on the couch, the ball now in Jay's court.

Jay freezes, looking up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jake.

"Forget it, Jake. He's not gonna agree even if you offered him money," Sunghoon finally perches from beside him. Well he's not wrong. It's not like Jay is exactly in need of more money, per say.

"What kind of bet are we talking here?"

Sunghoon's right. Jay doesn't need the money, but he does hate being wrong. Even if it's over something as stupid as this matter.

Caught off guard by the blonde's answer, Jake blinks blankly at him and takes a second to think.

"Hmm..what about...what about if you can date someone for at least three months, and I mean an actual, committed relationship, then I'll do all of your physics homework next semester."

Jay's eyes sparkle at that. If there's anything he despises more than commitment, it's physics.

"And if I win, you have to buy all of my textbooks," Jake sits back from the edge of his seat with a smirk lying on his face.

Jay pauses to think about it. I mean, what does he have to lose? A couple hundred dollars over college textbooks? No. Because he just simply won't lose.

And maybe he'll learn what it'll be like to actually be in a committed relationship for once. Maybe he'll finally learn what it's like to actually devote yourself to someone, open up to them. He shivers at the thought. Never mind. He'll warm up to it. Baby steps.

Nonetheless, what could go wrong? Even if he does lose, at least his money would be going somewhere productive––towards his friend's education. Jay was probably gonna use that money on something useless like a blanket that resembles a tortilla (a burrito blanket, he calls it)––something he doesn't necessarily need, but must have, he would argue.

"Fine. Whatever, okay. Deal," he grabs Jake's extended hand in front of him and shakes on it.

Jake's impressively smiling at the boy as Sunghoon lets out a sigh, in disbelief with the two guys he calls his best friends.

Jay concludes that this will be easier than his Introduction to Photography 101 course he took his freshman year. How hard is it to find someone to date the Jay Park? Surely, everyone will be lining up once Jay switches his FaceBook relationship status from "it's complicated" to "single".

Turns out, it's not as easy as his class where all Jay had to do was take pictures of a pretty sunset, slap a VSCO filter on, and call it a day.

He comes to this realization on a Wednesday evening, as he's seated at one of the many study tables lined in the middle of the campus' library, staring down at his phone's dry iMessage app, with his laptop and blank sheets of scratch paper scrambled across the entire table, as an attempt to look half as studious as the other students studying in the facility.

Turns out, being known as the campus' fuckboy who ghosts every girl on campus isn't a good thing when it comes to wanting to find a real relationship.

He comes to this realization after failing to receive a single text back to the many ones he sent out throughout the first half of his day. The ghoster gets ghosted. Oh how the turn tables.

Jay groans dramatically as he tosses his phone on the hard surface of the table, earning himself a harsh shush from the librarian filing books in the aisle beside him.

He sheepishly smiles back as an apology, directing his attention back to his open laptop screen, where his untouched calculus homework stares back at him––his mind preoccupied with the looming threat of Jake's bet. Not that it was threatening in any way, per say, but Jay just hates losing. And from the looks of things, it's safe to say that Jay won't be celebrating any victories anytime soon.

Jay thinks he should just change his identity and just transfer to some boarding school in Switzerland. Yes, that's a much better solution than admitting defeat to Jake.

Jay sighs as he lies his head on the table, figuring he might as well just write the check for Jake's textbooks now. He wonders how he got here in the first place. Not how he got into the bet, and definitely not how he's sitting in the middle of the library, having yet to start his calculus homework due at 11:59PM tonight (he should really start that).

But no, he wonders how he gained the reputation as the campus' playboy. To be fair, his friends (mainly Jake), are constantly reminding him of his notorious habits. But how did they come a habit in the first place?

The idea of being in a relationship is nice, sure, but the commitment that comes with it? The idea of being dependent on someone? It's scary, vulnerable, and one that Jay can't picture for himself.

Maybe some people just aren't meant to be paired. Maybe some people, like Jay, like being independent and are meant to stay that way.

But Jay also likes affection. He likes the fleeting, warm feeling he gets every time he finds himself under someone's sheets. He likes the short-lived comfort he receives from someone else's touch, even though he knows it's going to cease to exist the second he steps out of those bedroom's doors. He just likes affection, simple as that.

That and he's a 19 year old teenage boy with needs, what did you expect?

And so what if he likes the idea of affection minus commitment? Is that so bad? Apparently it is, to people like his friends and the entirety of his school's campus, at least.

At this rate, he might as well pay someone to date him.

Wait. Jay lifts his head off the table's surface in realization.

He might as well pay someone to date him.

There's no harm in that, is there?

He wouldn't have to endure through an endless amount of dates to find someone he clicks with, then continue going on dates with said clicked person, all while trying to develop an actual, serious relationship.

He'll win the bet, get his physics homework done for an entire semester, and some lucky girl out there will be making profit for the small price of hanging out with Jay Park for three months.

And lucky for him, Jay knows the perfect candidate for this scheme.

Simple as that.

Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.

And as long as Jake and Sunghoon don't find out. Or else Jay might really have to move to Switzerland after all.

You love your friends, you do.

Hana and Heeseung have been there for you when others haven't––they were by your side when you knew no one entering high school, and they were still by your side when you were all graduating said high school. Needless to say, you're eternally grateful for friends like them.

But right now, in this moment––with you seated in the middle of the campus' library, trying to write your essay, as your two friends blabber on and on about the most recent gossip across from you––your two friends could be your villain origin story.

But again, you love your friends, you do. So you don't have the heart to tell them to leave. You've managed to naturally tune out most of the conversation, anyways, for this––your friends coming to hang out while you're trying to study––is no rare occurrence by any means.

"Oh yeah, Jay Park texted me last night."

You hate how your brain's filter suddenly turns off at Hana's words.

You hate how your ears catch the sudden mention of Jay Park's name.

You hate how the thought of Jay Park gets to even occupy a single brain cell of yours.

You hate how you even know who Jay Park is. Well, knew.

Past tense. Because up until eighth grade––when Jay decided to just suddenly pretend you didn't exist––he was attached to you like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.

And if you had asked past Y/N, ideally, Jay would've never left your side. Ideally, he would've never left you to fend for yourself when entering high school. Ideally, he would've stayed your best friend through out all four years of high school and ideally, you would've eventually told him how you really felt about him after growing up with him all your life. And maybe it would've lead to a completely different story. But for the sake of this fic, we don't live in an ideal world.

So yes, if it wasn't for his attendance at the very same university as you, you would've forgotten about the boy who brought you the painful memories of your childhood.

And since the universe clearly doesn't work in your favor, avoiding Jay Park's existence like he's the plague would have to suffice. And it works.

For the most part.

Until some people, bring him up uninvited into your conversation. Like now, for example.

"When was the last time you guys talked anyways?" Heeseung mindlessly asks as he reaches across the table to grab one of the many snacks you usually bring to your study sessions.

"Uh..like a few weeks ago. Give or take. Whenever you threw your house party. Can't say there was much talking involved however," she teasingly says with a giggle and wiggle of her brows.

Heeseung's rolling his eyes as you scoff and chuck a nearby crumpled piece of paper that was once one of your many essay drafts at her.

She bats it away right as it's about to hit her face as she laughs. "Doesn't matter anyways. He ghosted me the next morning, as he does with everyone else. Telling you this now," she extends a finger right at you, "stay away from Jay Park. That kid's just bad news."

You nod in response, mentally telling her she has nothing to worry about.

Been there, done that.

College. Ah yes, the very concept of spending four years of your life imprisoned on a campus where you'll be tearing your hair out from stress and spending all your life's savings just for a laminated sheet of paper with a golden stamp at the end of it all. We live in a society.

Because of said college, and all the weight that comes along with it, you had adapted a strict daily schedule in order to not completely lose your mind. It's a simple schedule really, one of a typical college student who's just trying to get by everyday with as little mental breakdowns as possible.

Wake up, get ready, go to class, go to the library to do your homework, walk all the way across campus to get back to your dorm, shower, then sleep. Oh and eat, of course. And maybe if time permits, be an actual social being and socialize.

It's gotten you this far into the college life without dropping out so, you conclude, you must be doing something right.

Sometimes, if you're feeling nice to yourself, you'll tweak the schedule a bit to fit in some exceptions. Maybe squeeze in a little trip to the bubble tea shop that's on the other side of campus, or maybe get dinner at that one dining hall that you don't usually go to because of the unncessarily long lines (but because they serve ice cream, you go anyways). It doesn't matter what the exception is, you still plan it out to fit into your schedule somehow. Everything is planned out.

Sometimes, however, the universe disagrees with your schedule, to your demise. Such as today, for example.

Because what you didn't expect for today was for a particular blonde-haired boy who you haven't spoken to in almost six years (but who's counting?) to approach your table in the library––a table you were sure no one could find you at, as it was quietly tucked away in the back corner, right next to the Astrophysics shelves. Because who browses the Astrophysics aisle for fun? Actually, maybe Jake Sim would. Anyways.

You definitely didn't anticipate a visit from the boy you've been actively avoiding, so you definitely didn't expect the first words coming out of his mouth when he sees you for the first time in six years to be:

"Fake date me."

You blink up at him.

Yeah, definitely not expected.

But you only let it phase you for a split second, until you feel a slight annoyance beginning to bubble up deep inside of you.

"Wow, hello to you too Jay! It's been what––half a decade? Yeah I've been pretty good, thanks for asking!" The sarcasm is practically dripping off your tongue.

You don't know what runs through Jay's mind, but apparently it isn't common sense––or the ability to read the room. Because next thing you know, he's sliding the chair across from you out from underneath the table and making himself at home.

And he's smiling right at you.

Curse him and his smile.

But no, you're not giving into it.

Not yet, at least.

"What do you want?" You deadpan at him when he makes no sign of making the next move.

"A girlfriend," he deadpans right back at you, as if he was casually telling you what he wanted for dinner. As if you two were close-knit friends that could approach one another without any proper greeting. As if you two had kept your friendship all these years. As if you two even had a role in each other's lives.

"Can't help you there," you scoff, deciding to not even question his lack of manners on top of his uninvited presence.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"

"Well gee, seeing that the first few words you decided to say to my face for the first time in forever were a demand, a demand to date you no less, then....no," your monotone voice says as you keep your eyes focused on your laptop screen, not daring to look at the boy across from you.

In the Introduction to Sociology course you took your freshmen year, you had learned of one important term: interactional vandalism. Textbook definition being: "ignoring signals of disinterest in a conversation, leading it to an offense."

Your definition being: "are you oblivious or just plan dumb, read the room!"

This was interactional vandalism, alright. Whether Jay's truly oblivious or just trying to annoy you until your head explodes (it's really the former, but you're convinced it's the latter), he takes your signals of disinterest and tosses it right out of his head to continue the conversation.

"I'm stuck in this stupid bet with Jake--do you remember him? He bet me that I couldn't date someone for more than three months and I figured having someone fake date me would be easier than actually dating someone, right? That's where you come into the equation," he proposes as he leans back in his chair, as if he had just finished a sales pitch to a prospective customer looking to buy a car.

You couldn't believe this. You're 98% sure this has got to be a prank. You're mentally preparing for a camera crew to jump out from in-between the library's aisles any moment now and scream into your ears that you've just been punk'd!

The remaining 2% of you, however, wouldn't put it past the two boys to get themselves in such a situation. The last memory you had of Jay and his friends were pretty much their childish selves back in middle school. And by looking at the current scene unfolding in front of you...it's needless to say they haven't changed much.

"Again, can't help you there. Ask one of the many girlfriends I thought you had." Ouch.

"But Y/N, you've known me all your life--"

"Up until you dropped me a few years ago but sure, let's call it that."

"--and convincing other people is gonna make me look--"

"--desperate? Yeah."

"C'mon, Y/N. What do you have to lose anyways?"

"Uh..my dignity? Pride? Self-respect? Sorry Jay, not happening," you turn your attention back to your unwritten essay in front of you, mentally checking out of this conversation. This would be a good time for that camera crew to jump out now.

"Look, no one else is gonna do it, Y/N." Jay has always been stubborn, you suppose. But so are you.

"Yeah, because you've managed to push every being of the opposite gender away from you. You gave yourself this reputation in the first place," you give it to him straight. It's not like you had a relationship with him to uphold anyways––Jay himself broke that friendship years ago.

Jay hates that you're right.

You're always right. He remembers how he used to always go to you for advice and clarity on the world's biggest problems. Granted, the world's biggest problems to him at the time equated to what he should dress up as for the fifth grade Halloween party, but still. A tough decision, for the mind of a ten-year-old.

You abruptly stop typing and begin putting your laptop and textbooks away as you huff in frustration. There's no point in trying to get your work done now. The longer you stay arguing with Jay, the bigger your headache gets. The longer he continues to occupy any part of your brain, the bigger your headache gets.

Getting up from your seat, packed and ready to slam your head into your pillow, you turn to the blonde one last time.

"Look Jay. We went on our separate ways years ago. If you weren't so notoriously known around campus and my friends would stop talking about you, I would've long forgotten you. I'm sorry you're in this situation, really. If I were you, I'd just tell Jake I can't do it. Or don't, I can't tell you what to do. Just don't get some innocent girl involved in whatever stunt of yours this is."

Jay stares at you, mouth agape, as you find your way out of the library and through the main doors. By the time he comes back to his senses, he realizes how he looks plain stupid––standing in the middle of the library, the look on his face screaming befuddlement, to say the least. Jay quickly makes his way out of the building, in hopes of convincing you one last time.

Jay catches sight of your figure already half-way down the walkway that connects the library to the main quad of your school's campus. Geez, you walk fast.

Not fast enough to outrun Jay's legs, however. If Jay running after you through the middle of campus in order to convince you to fake date him doesn't show how desperate he is to win this bet, I don't know what will.

"Wait, Y/N!"

You groan to yourself before turning to face the boy who can't seem to take a hint and leave you alone. You stare at his out-of-breath state as he heaves up and down from the slight jog he had to endure to get to where you are. If you're humored by him chasing after you, you do a good job of hiding it.

He meets your unimpressed state before stating his final proposition: "I'll pay you. Five hundred dollars."

You nearly stop breathing.

Now this catches your attention––after all, you're but a broke college student who's just trying to survive. And preferably not by feeding yourself instant ramen cups every night.

And so, naturally, you begin rethinking about the opportunity presented in front of you. You narrow your eyes at the boy as you weigh your options.

The first problem being, it's Jay Park––the bane of your very existence. You spent the last few years of your life pretending he didn't exist...for good reason. Not only did he do you dirty when you were merely a couple of 13-year-olds, but you just didn't want to be involved with someone like him. Someone known for his nature, someone who left your own current best friend ghosted. And not that Hana herself would care, for she has called herself the "female Jay Park", but you're sure this would be breaking some rule in the girl code handbook. Plus, if you agree to this, you'd be betraying 13-year-old Y/N, the one who decided to never speak to nor think of Jay Park again––which by now you've failed, but you get the gist.

Second problem being, three months is a long time. Three months is practically the rest of this semester, and did you really want to spend the rest of the semester tied down to the label of being Jay Park's girlfriend? There would have to be some negative connotations that came along with that title, right? No offense to Jay, but being his first girlfriend since, what, high school could make you come off as..naive, for lack of a better term. As if the only person you could settle for was Jay Park. As if you barely had any standards for yourself. Again, no offense to Jay.

Needless to say, if your school's debate club had to argue on why you shouldn't be doing this, you're sure the negating side could win with these two reasons alone.

But before you're rejecting the boy currently standing in front of you one last time, you find yourself mentally listing rebuttals.

First of all, you'd be getting paid. And again, you're merely but a college student living the stereotypical broke college student life––burdened by the costs of tuition, textbooks, and midnight McDonalds runs for when you're out of aforementioned instant ramen cups. Five hundred dollars could provide you with more than enough chicken McNuggets to last you the semester, and maybe some more to treat yourself to an online shopping spree.

Second of all, it's not like you were going to do anything better with your next three months anyways. It's safe to say you were too busy being a diligent student to actually look for anyone to date, per say. And if anything, having a fake boyfriend might actually be helpful in your case. Your mom would be off your ass about how you're still single, for one. And two, your friends (though it's really just Heeseung) would stop trying to hook you up on blind dates with guys that you would choose Jay Park over any day (and that really says something).

Third of all, it's Jay Park. As much as you despise the kid, you still know him. He's not a complete stranger to you, no matter how much you try to deny it. It could be worse, it could be a complete rando asking you to date him. At least you two have some sort of history, which would take care of the typical small talk and getting to know each other bit of this equation. And truth be told, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't a tad bit satisfied by the fact that Jay chose you, of all people, to pull off this stunt with him. You don't know if it's the nostalgia of your childhood memories rushing back to you, but it reminds you of the endless schemes you two used to plan behind your parents' backs all the time. Granted, your childhood schemes––such as the both of you faking sickness so you could skip school together––don't even fall close to being in a fake relationship with one another, but still. It's the thought that counts.

All of those reasons plus, Jay isn't the worst to look at. He may have a spoiled reputation, but at least he has his looks going for him, you'll give him that (you're still secretly wondering when and how did he get his glow up, but don't tell him that).

And so by the guidelines of a college student's logic that states the pros outweigh the cons, you come to the overarching conclusion that maybe, this won't be so awful after all.

"Five hundred?" You ask, just for clarification. Jay's immediately nodding at your words. You continue to ponder on your thoughts as he stares at you hopefully.

The silent atmosphere of your campus heightens the tension so much, you swear you're in one of those overdramatic pausing scenes that occur too many times in k-dramas.

You sigh, then nod.

"Okay," you're internally praying that you won't regret this decision. "I'm in."

The next time you see Jay is at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building that's home to your awfully long Capitalism in the Western World class.

You're going down the steps of the building, mentally deciding where and what you're going to treat yourself to for lunch––as the three hour lecture you had just attended drained all the life and energy out of you––when you hear the slight call of your name.

Turning to the source, you're met with a waving Jay, leaning against the passenger's side of his car, parked in front of the lecture hall building you were currently leaving.

Great.

You walk over to where he's casually waiting––he's unaware of all the stares he's attracted from fellow students leaving the same lecture as you. Can you blame them? It's not everyday you see a sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition pull up in front of your Friday afternoon lecture. It's not everyday you see Jay Park waiting for anyone outside of his said sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition.

"Hi," you simply let out as you plant yourself in front of him, not sure whether or not to question him why are you here? Surely, he wasn't waiting for you?

"Hi," he smiles down at you. There's a beat of silence. "I was waiting for you."

Bingo.

"Oh. What are you, my chauffeur?" You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Maybe. I am your boyfriend, after all," he says into the air, loud and clear, as if he wanted people to hear. Well that is the point, you suppose.

But still, all you want to do is smack the smirk right off his face.

Before you have time to put your next question into words, he answers it for you.

"I'm taking you out for lunch," he declares as if you have nothing else planned for the day. Well, to be fair, you didn't have anything else planned for the day. Except for your usual library run. But you figure the library could wait.

"Oh, like on a date?" You raise your eyebrows teasingly at him as you get into the car, Jay holding the door wide open for you. "Is Jay Park treating me to lunch as a date?"

Jay fights the scowl (or is that a smile?) growing on his face as he bends down to meet your eye level from inside the car. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. We've got fake lives to live."

"Call me princess one more time and you won't have a real life to live," you flash him a sarcastic smile and slam the door in his face.

Jay meets his own shocked reflection on the passenger's side window.

Cute.

"When you said you were taking me out to lunch, I expected like...I don't know...the diner on campus. Not whatever this is," you mutter to Jay as the two of you are brought to your table by a waitress at an upscale sushi restaurant, one that is undoubtedly out of your usual budget, but for sure an upgrade from your dining hall's pizza you were planning to have. You should've figured as much, the drive here was a little more than out of the way from campus, and who are you kidding, it's Jay Park you're eating with.

You stare down at your current outfit, which consisted of a hoodie you've owned since your junior year of high school and leggings that you threw on without second thought this morning––because you didn't exactly wake up and decide I'm going to go to a fancy sushi bar for lunch today!

"Why are we here anyways?" You ask him when you're both settled in your seats and the waitress walks away after listing the chef's specials for the day.

"Oh, they have killer dragon rolls here, you have to try it," Jay tells you nonchalantly as his eyes rake the menu in front of him, blocking your view of him.

How dense can one be? Your hand snatches his menu as you stare into his unamused eyes.

"No, Jay. I mean, why are we here? It's not like anyone's around to see us put on a show anyways."

"Oh. I figured," Jay's quick to grab the menu back from out of your hands as he continues, "that we should sit down and establish how exactly we're going to deliver this performance. After all, you're stuck with me for the next three months."

Again, smacking the smirk currently resting on his face would satisfy you beyond relief. Just once.

"If I drop out halfway through, do I still get $250?" You tease, leaning back.

"Ha ha. Funny. No," he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. "It's all or nothing."

You dramatically huff to make a show just for his annoyance.

"Worth a try. But sure, let's solidify this. What's the game plan?" You sit up in your seat, leaning over the table as if the two of you were hosting a secret meeting.

"It's simple really," Jay mirrors your actions, face leaning in close to where yours is hovering over the table. "Just pretend to be deeply in love with me for three months, and try not to actually be charmed by my cunning looks."

If someone gave you five dollars for every time you've already rolled your eyes at him today, you wouldn't even need to be in this deal for the five hundred dollars.

"Wow, smooth. Can I just remind you you're the one paying a girl to be in a fake relationship with you because you're just not competent enough to find an actual girlfriend?" You lean back, arms crossing over your figure.

Jay, unfazed, laughs, tongue briefly hitting the inside of his cheek. "Touché."

Your eyes go back to the menu in front of you as a silence falls over the table. Because you're not a loaded trust fund baby who comes to fancy five-star sushi restaurants for lunch on a daily, you don't recognize half of the entree names on the menu. You spot the dragon roll Jay suggested, but seeing that a basic California roll is less expensive, your natural broke-college-student-instincts figure the California roll shall do.

"Okay, in all seriousness," Jay begins as he puts his menu down. "It's simple really. We'll just go on weekly dates and post cute pictures of each other once in a while and a little after three months, I'll just say it didn't work out. I'll give you the five hundo and boom, we move on with our lives."

It's clear Jay's put some thought into this. Safe to say he's put more effort planning this out than the amount of work he's been putting into his classes. Someone's got their priorities straight.

You're impressed to say the least––you figured Jay would just be the kind to go with the flow and wait for the situation to unfold on its own and maybe blow up into flames. But seeing as he was just as serious about winning this bet as you were with making five hundred dollars, your doubts about this entire situation were slowly withering away.

Don't get it wrong, though, you still despise him. To an extent, at least.

"And don't worry about the dates. I'll pay on your behalf, as the loving, doting boyfriend I am," Jay finishes with a wide, cheesy smile you can't help but return a growing smile back at.

"Well then, as the loving, doting girlfriend I am, I shall gift you coffee, breakfast, all that fun couple stuff, whenever you please. Or maybe unannounced, if I'm feeling nice," you figure you should pitch in as much if he's paying for all your dates. And deep down, you find the idea kinda cute. But don't tell anyone that.

"Wow, look at us. We should become Dispatch's couple of the year already!" Jay exclaims, earning himself a small giggle from you, which pleases him to say the least. He thinks that maybe when this is all over, he'll hopefully make a good friend (well, for the second time) out of it.

And you're thinking that maybe the next three months won't be as bad as you initially had thought.

As the two of you delve deep into a debate about who would be the better significant other to each other, the waitress comes over to take your orders.

And because you're laughing and Jay's brightly smiling at you from across the table, you order the dragon roll.

The second time Jay takes you out––this time he gives you a heads up to get ready––it's at a, once again, high-class steakhouse.

The third time, you insist on the on-campus diner that's popular amongst the student population. Partially because you feel bad for the amount of money he's spent on you (even though he couldn't care less), but mostly because if you have to put on another fancy dress to just eat an overpriced meal that doesn't even fully satisfy your hunger, you might lose your mind.

And by this third time, Jake is aware of this newly blossomed relationship.

"Three dates! I didn't know you had it in you, going on three dates with the same girl!" Jake excitedly exclaims as he jumps into the empty spot on Jay's dorm bed and shoves his phone's screen into Jay's face.

The smaller screen displays Jay's most recent Instagram post: an image of you sitting behind your too-small-to-be-this-expensive-steak and smiling right into Jay's camera––a memory that brings a smile to his face:

~ ~ ~

"C'mon! We said Instagram posts would be a part of the deal! How else can we convince people we're dating?" A pout rests on Jay's face as he stares at you from across the table in the middle of the extravagantly decorated restaurant he picked out for your second date. You remember your eyes bulging out of their own sockets when you saw the "$$$$$" rating Yelp gave the place when you searched it up earlier.

"Okay, okay! One picture," you give in, already slightly annoyed that you were here instead of the comfort of your own bed, where you could be rewatching your favorite Netflix show for the third time. But because you made a deal and because you're desperate for money, you had to follow through––so here you were.

You flash an unconvincing smile to Jay's camera, which doesn't satisfy him, to say the least. "At least pretend you're somewhat enjoying this date," he frowns at you.

You sigh, until a thought crosses your mind and a smile grows on your face. "Only if you get me boba afterwards."

He narrows his eyes at you, but then meets your smile. "Sure, whatever you want. But only because I've been craving some mango milk tea lately."

"You're a fruit milk tea kind of guy? Sorry, but I might have to fake break-up with you," you tease as you take a sip of your overpriced drink to go with your overpriced meal.

Jay scoffs, feigning hurt by placing his hand over his heart. "Ouch. But before you break up with me, let me get this Instagram post in."

"Wow. Your priorities are so straight," you roll your eyes at him, eliciting a cheeky smile from him as he watches you through his held up phone screen.

"3,2,1."

"Hey, I wasn't ready! That was like mid-laugh!" You reach over the table to grab the phone, but not quick enough for him to put his phone back into his pants' pocket.

"Nope, nuh uh," he laughs as you quickly sit back down into your seat, not wanting to cause a scene in an establishment as proper as this one.

"It's fine. It's a good picture, you look cute," he casually lets out, unaware of the blush rising to the surface of your cheeks, thanks to the fact that you were suddenly interested in playing with the left-over food on your plate.

"Jay! Delete it, I'll let you take another one," you whine from your seat, imagining just how bad a candid picture of you could be.

"Ugh, fine. Ever so picky." He playfully rolls his eyes at you as he takes his phone out and opens the camera app as you prepare yourself.

"Okay, how's this?" Jay turns the phone screen to you after he takes a few snaps on his phone.

"I approve," you grin at him as he goes through the pictures himself, unaware of the smile growing on his face.

"Okay now delete the first one," you point your finger at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Okay, okay! Bossy," he laughs as he raises in hands in surrender.

When Jay gets home that night, he recovers the image from his Recently Deleted folder, telling himself it's for the sake of the memory.

Obviously.

~ ~ ~

"It's not that big of a deal," Jay mutters from his spot as his eyes go from the Instagram post to his Exile and Belonging in Modern Literature reading that's due tomorrow, bright yellow highlighter in hand. Typically, you'd find the reading buried deep at the bottom of his school backpack. But because Jay ran into you this morning and because he complained to you about the amount of work he's fallen behind on and because you had threatened him to do his work or else you're not going on another date––a fake date that is––with him, he figured he should at least get one reading done and annotated, despite his strong dislike for highlighters (they hurt his eyes, okay?)

What he doesn't know, however, is how your threat was completely full of bluff––but don't tell him that.

"It is so a big deal, for you at least!" Jake hops off the bed and lands on the wooden floors of Jay's dorm room so hard, Jay winces and sends a mental apology to the poor person who lives below him.

Jake suddenly gasps. "I have to meet her, Jay! As your best friend, it's practically mandatory that I meet her."

Jay opens his mouth to protest, but not before Jake interrupts him once again. "Oh! We can bring Sunghoon too, it'll be so fun! The best friends meet the girlfriend."

Jay can't think of anything worst. Jay imagines that bringing you to meet his best friends would just intimidate you out of dating him––fake dating him, that is. Obviously.

He stares at his friend in agony then back at the reading in front of him––the one Jake said he'd come over to help annotate, but the intention completely left Jake's head the second he heard about Jay's recent dating life.

"You don't have to meet her," Jay says pointedly. "Plus, you already know her."

Jake frowns at his friend's excuse. "Yeah, but that was in middle school! This is different."

Jay's hands shuffle through the reading's pages in front of him as he realizes there's no way the two of them are going to finish the assignment at this point. He supposes he'll have to save death by blindness from highlighters for another day and hope you still agree to go out with him.

Jake suddenly gasps in realization.

"Oh my gosh! Childhood best friends turned college sweethearts," Jake says so dreamily, he might as well plaster heart eyes on. Hopeless romantic, this one.

Before Jay can argue, the piercing sound of three loud knocks echo through the small room, followed with a:

"Jay, are you in? It's me!"

Jay stills at the sound of your sweet voice. He whips his head to Jake, who is also frozen in place.

But the widened-eye boy is quick to come to his senses––unfortunately quicker than Jay himself––because the next thing Jay knows, Jake's eyes are lighting up and he's running to the door, ignoring Jay's screaming whispers through this seething teeth that were somewhere along the lines of Jake––stop, I swear to god if you open that door I'm gonna fucking--

"Y/N!" Jake swings the door wide open, revealing an overly excited him and a frozen Jay half-way to the door, as if he was about to grab the very boy welcoming you in. It's as if we're living in a Sims game and the player clicked pause on this very moment.

Jake's eyes are wildly going back and forth between you and your supposed boyfriend, as if he was waiting for Jay to run over and smother you in hugs and kisses...or something couple-y like that. Jay wouldn't know.

"Uh––hi," you're awkwardly standing inside the room now, a relatively large paper brown bag resting in your palms as you look around for a surface to place it on. Jay makes his way to you without a second thought, quickly taking the bag out of your hold.

"You seemed stressed out earlier, so I figured I could bring you some food as a little pick me up. I didn't know what you liked, so I kinda just got a little of everything from the dining hall. Nothing fancy," you're rambling, but smiling so excitedly at him, Jay doesn't know what to say.

Instead, his mouth slightly drops open as he stares at you in awe, mostly because he's not used to being on the receiving end of such spontaneously generous actions––all while Jake's still excitedly looking back and forth between the two of you, as if he was expecting a marriage proposal to come next.

"Oh wow. Thank you. Really," Jay, still touched by your simple act of kindness, softly says as he places the bag on the limited amount of empty space on his desk surface––the rest of it is covered with his untouched textbooks and unfinished assignments. He wonders if you did this out of playing your role or just because you wanted to. He internally hopes it's the latter. "Seriously, you didn't have to do."

"Nah, don't worry. I wanted to," you shrug with such a genuine smile that Jay realizes he actually missed your smile.

Despite having seen you during your brief run-in this morning when you were fetching your morning coffee, Jay realizes he missed you. The two of you haven't been seeing each other recently because of your busy schedule and if Jay didn't realize it before, he's now sure he missed your company and presence around.

Weird.

"Well, you two have fun! Sunghoon needs me for something," Jake suddenly chirps from his place near the front door, halfway through with putting his shoes on already, breaking the comforting silence that fell between the two of you.

Jay frowns. "But you said you were free all da––"

"SUNGHOON IS CALLING BYE!" And before Jay can even register what's happening, Jake's out the door without another word.

"Er..sorry about him, he's...weird," Jay scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his spot on his bed, mentally setting a reminder to yell at Jake later for leaving the two of you alone. Jay doesn't know exactly why, but he's nervous at the fact that you're here in his room. It's not like you two are complete strangers––or whatever you guys were before––anymore. "Good job on your part, though. How'd you know Jake was here?"

"Oh uh, I didn't"," you let out an awkward laugh. "I just felt like doing it."

Heat rushes to Jay's cheeks and he's not sure 1) what this newfound feeling is and 2) how to respond, yet again.

Having expecting you to leave after dropping the food off, Jay's taken by surprise when you take your shoes off and come over to his bed to look at the pile of work he's spread out.

"Is this everything you have to do?" You question the stressed-out boy as you flip through the various assignments, readings, and essays he put off in the past week.

"More or less," he groans. This is no rare occurrence by any means––Jay being behind in his work––but this time, Jay realizes he may actually be in deep shit, considering he has no idea where to begin.

Right as Jay's expecting a scolding from you, he looks up to meet a look of sympathy on your face. "Well, I mean, I'm pretty much done with my day. I can try to help, I recognize some of these readings from last semester."

Jay thinks to himself that the universe has sent him an angel through the form of you.

"Really? Wow, you were't kidding when you said you'd be a good girlfriend," he sends you a surprised look.

"I'm just being nice, Jay. A concept I'm sure you're not familiar with," you remark back at him, causing his forming smile to grow into a laugh.

"I can too be nice! Need I remind you of who's paying you $500, covering all of our dates AND giving you rides to class everyday?" He remarks pointedly at you, a teasing look resting in his eyes as you're reminded of the first of many times he's come to pick you up before class:

~ ~ ~

You're late.

This never happens.

But then again, your life's been a series of unexpected occurrences lately. Such as the fact that you're currently known as Jay Park's girlfriend, for one.

You're scrambling out of bed once you take one look at your phone and realize shit, you're already late for class. Throwing on whatever articles of clothing your eyes land on first, you're already mentally groaning at the fact that you'll have to skip breakfast and run across your campus to get to said class.

Curse your professor for hosting her lecture at the furthest possible building away from your dorm. Curse the architect who decided to make your campus so large.

You're running down the steps outside of your dorm building's doors when you're abruptly stopped by a familiar sounding cough. You look up from trying to gather all your belongings together at once to meet the gaze of the source of the sound––Jay.

"Wow, you're a mess," he smirks as he gets up from the spot on his car he was leaning against to make his way over to you.

"Gee, thanks! Good morning to you too," you flash him a sarcastic smile before your default frown quickly makes it way back onto your face.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?" He grins as he grabs hold of your backpack to sling it across his own back as the two of you walk towards his car.

"Why are you here, Jay?" you sigh, your sarcastic tone hard to miss.

"To give you a ride to class, of course!" He's beaming at you, as if he's a pre-pubescent teen who just won their first girlfriend a prize from the arcade's claw machine.

Oh. That explains the car, you figure. Deep down inside, you're relieved that you'll no longer be bursting through the lecture hall's doors as a sweaty mess––a result of having to run across campus to get to class.

Determined to not let your satisfaction completely show, you resort with a little smile directed towards Jay as he opens the passenger door for you.

The second your enter Jay's car, the strong scent of coffee hits you, and your attention is targeted at the two small cups of coffee sitting in the cupholders of the car.

"Breakfast?" Jay asks as he enters through the driver's side and reaches into the backseat to whip out a small pastry bag. A small, deliciously smelling, pastry bag.

Okay, well. You suppose you could drop the annoyed act now.

Your eyes widen with joy as you grab the bag from him and open it to reveal your favorite breakfast sandwich. He's been taking notes, you'll give him that point.

"Okay, you win. Thank you," you grace him with a soft smile before taking a bite into the glorious gift in your hands.

"Of course, I was just feeling nice," he grins at you as he starts his car. "But don't get used to it." His tone is serious, but his smile directed towards you says differently.

And the fact that he still showed up to drive you to class the next morning.

And the next.

~ ~ ~

"And need I remind you who has to date your dumb ass for the $500 in question?" Your eyes narrow at the boy who can't seem to get that damn smile off his face.

Jay sticks his tongue out at you, ending the conversation. Really Jay? What are you, five? Well, mentally––probably.

You're looking around his minuscule dorm room for a place to sit down, and Jay can't help but feel embarrassed now that you're here, in his messy single studio room that pretty much reflects how Jay treats every other responsibility of his oh so hard life: neglected.

"Uh...here, you can sit on my bed," Jay immediately offers as he moves to the side to make room for your presence––and it isn't much, considering the university only provided him a twin XL bed which is definitely not built for two grown college-aged kids.

If you told yourself a few weeks ago that you'd be shoulder to shoulder on a bed belonging to the guy you cringed at the very thought of, you wouldn't have believed yourself. You wouldn't have believed yourself if you said you were actually glad Jay let you stay instead of kicking you out after delivering the food. Huh.

Weird.

"You know, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids. I always carried us through those horrible multiplication tests in the fifth grade," you wink at him as you settle in the spot next to him, hands grabbing hold of the papers in his lap.

Jay let out a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "Hey! The twelve times table is hard, okay?"

You roll your eyes at him––a habit of yours he's noticed whenever the two of you are together, but more recently, he thinks it's been more out of fun than annoyance.

He wonders why.

When Jay had first brought up the idea of bringing you as his date to his father's company dinner, you had expected a fairly fancy five-star restaurant with a formal dress code––for you've become accustomed to Jay's lifestyle. Turns out, your expectations can continue to be exceeded. Because what you had expected to be a simple dinner with a few other business men and women turned out to be an entire party, hosted in a hotel whose interior resembled something close to a castle (Or what you assume a castle looks like, as you've never personally been into a castle yourself, but this hotel is close enough).

Your eyes sparkle at the extravagant columns and diamond chandeliers hanging high above you, and Jay smiles at the expression on your face; like a little girl being brought to the amusement park for the first time ever.

"Wow, this is...wow," you mutter as you drink in the scene in front of you: people dressed in formal attire likewise to yours and Jay's, mingling and drinking what you imagine to be beverages that cost more than your entire life's worth.

Jay laughs from behind you, "Yeah the company goes a little...extra when it comes to these company dinners."

You scoff as you look up at him. "Oh really, you don't say?" You look around and you're suddenly aware of the many people surrounding the two of you and the attention you've acquired ever since entering the building.

"Jay, people are staring." You shuffle closer to him, your voice lowering down to a whisper.

"Well, it's not everyday the son of the company's CEO brings his girlfriend with him, so...looks like we'll be the talk of the party tonight. Smiles on," he winks at you, and you just know he's loving the attention the two of you are receiving right now.

"Jay Park? Is that you?" You hear a warm voice call out from behind the two of you.

The two of you turn around to meet the owner of the voice, a middle-aged woman dressed in an evening gown that matches the pattern of high-end brands you've been recognizing ever since arriving.

"Mrs. Lee! It's so nice seeing you again," Jay cheerily addresses the woman as the two of you bow in greeting.

You internally giggle at the thought of your Jay being so picture-perfect in the eyes of his father's co-workers.

"This is Y/N," he continues, his hand finding its way to your back, protectively resting it there as you go to introduce yourself. "My girlfriend."

You swear you feel goosebumps rise from where he's lightly touching you, and more so when he introduces you as his girlfriend.

You tell yourself it's just your nerves. Yes, that's it, you're just nervous. I mean, you're in a room filled with people who could easily pay off all your college loans with just a snap of their fingers, who wouldn't be nervous? Right? Right.

"Y/N! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Mrs. Lee excitedly exclaims as you turn to Jay with a slightly confused look plastered on your face. He mirrors your expression as he shrugs, moving to stand behind you completely, bringing his hands to rest lowly at your hips.

His hands feel like feathers on the thin fabric of your evening gown, so light, so delicate, as if he's unsure if he's crossing a line. It leaves you wanting more, wanting to naturally lean against him and his warmth. You quick to shake the thought of your head as Mrs. Lee chirps up again.

"Jay's father is always talking about how you've been keeping Jay pleasantly busy nowadays! Good thing too, about time this poor boy settle down for someone as beautiful as you," the woman rambles on as you feel a blush creep up on your cheeks at the thought of Jay talking about you to his dad. If only they knew.

"We should probably go find our seats, I think the dinner is beginning soon," Jay says from behind you, saving the two of you from having to listen to Mrs. Lee's story of how she's known Jay ever since he was five years old and seeing him grow into this mature, loving, young man is so amazing. Oh look! I have baby pictures.

Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.

The two of you bid your goodbyes before Jay gently uses the hand on your back to maneuver you through the crowd of socializing business moguls.

"She's not wrong, you know," you feel Jay dip his head so he's speaking near your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe, as the two of you make your way through the large foyer room.

"Hm?" You hum in question, turning your head up just enough to be able to make eye contact with him as he responds to your look of confusion.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, eye contact not breaking once. You freeze in your steps.

You stare back at him in silence. Oh.

Your mind is panicking as it flips through your mental book of responses, unsure of what to say back. But because your mind is cloudy from staring at a put-together Jay in a dark navy suit to match your dress (mixed with the nervous butterflies in your stomach––have they always been there?), the only sound that's able to leave your lips is the small stutter of a:

"Huh?"

Wow Y/N, you had one job. A simple "thank you" could've sufficed! And you went with "Huh"?

You felt like a fifth grader who just learned from a friend of a friend of a friend that their crush likes them back.

"U-um. Mrs. Lee. What she said about you. You look good, really," somehow your nervousness made its way over to Jay now––his eyes flickering from yours to anywhere, anything, else in the room––the awkward tension growing tenfold each second.

Goddamnit Y/N, this is just Jay you're talking to, get a grip.

You're knocked back into reality when he slightly nudges your back to continue making your way to the main ball room, where the dinner is being held.

"Is that a compliment from the Jay Park?" Your smirk can't be seen by Jay, since he's still trailing behind you, but he can definitely hear it through your tone.

"Don't make me take it back," he chuckles, his words felt against your neck, leaving behind a tingly sensation you're not sure why you're feeling. You're glad he's behind you, so he isn't able to see the blush creeping onto your face for the second time tonight.

Jay gives a small nod to the people behind the check-in desk stationed at the entrance as the two of you waltz right into a large ball room lined with countless circular dining tables. So much for a small business dinner.

As the two of you approach one of the tables placed at the front of the room, you notice a familiar figure seated next to the seats reserved for you and Jay.

"Y/N!" Jake exclaims as he gets up from his seat to greet the both of you. "I'm so glad you made it, Jay was so excited to bring you tonight. Deadass would not stop talking about it."

Jay lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a cough and a goose being strangled, his widened eyes warning his talkative friend to just shut up. He's silently cursing the company for always seating his and Jake's family at the same table for these events.

"Aw, is that so? He's lucky he's cute or else I wouldn't have agreed," you grin, winking at your assumed boyfriend sitting next to you.

"Hey, YOU were the one excited to come! I recall a certain someone's face lighting up when I suggested we go shopping for tonight," Jay immediately retorts.

"Only because you were buying," you giggle, causing Jake to laugh as well.

"Damn, Jay. Tough," Jake jokingly adds as you laugh alongside him. The scowl sitting on Jay's face expresses the opposite of what he's feeling right now: warmth filling him up from the sound of your laughter and the image of you getting along so well with his best friend.

"I'm gonna get us some drinks, you two have fun making fun of me," Jay narrows his eyes at the two of you as he gets up from his seat. You bid him off with a smile before turning back to Jake.

"No but really though, this boy would not stop talking about you coming tonight. Then again, he doesn't really ever stop talking about you," Jake nonchalantly says, not knowing how much he was exposing his friend to you right now.

You raise an eyebrow up in response, "Oh really?"

"Seriously! I don't know what you did to him, Y/N, but this Jay I've been seeing recently is new. He complains a lot less about life nowadays, especially on the days he sees you," he leans back in his chair as his comment brings a smile to your face. Little does he know.

You stretch your neck up to find the boy in question and spot him right as he's returning to your shared table, two drinks in hand. You lock eyes with him from across the room and without a second thought, you're giving him a genuine smile that he's immediately returning.

Your heart beats faster at the view.

You wonder why.

It's 3:07AM when you hear the first ding.

You're not 100% sure as of why you're awake at this hour on a Tuesday night––perhaps a combination of your restless thoughts and feelings not letting you sleep plus the typical stress that comes hand-in-hand with the life of a college student.

It's 3:09AM when you hear the second ding, and you brush it off, assuming it was just Heeseung spamming you with memes again––something he does often when he also can't sleep (you found this out the hard way).

It's still 3:09AM when you hear the third ding, and at 3:10AM , you finally reach over and decide to acknowledge the being who's bothering you at this godforsaken hour.

Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N

Jay [3:09AM]: hi

Jay [3:09AM]: r u awake rn

Y/N [3:10AM]: unfortunately so

Y/N [3:11AM]: why are you up

Jay [3:11AM]: come outside

Y/N [3:13AM: jay it's 3am

Jay [3:13AM]: ye and? don't tell me ur a college student with a curfew

Jay [3:14AM]: plus im alrdy waiting for u outside so u have no choice

Jay [3:15AM]: :)

You groan at your bright phone screen currently illuminating your dark dorm room.

You ponder the consequences you may have to suffer tomorrow if you stay up any later than you already have. But considering the fact that you're probably just going to stay awake lying in bed for god knows how long anyways, why not?

(And you would like to point out that this decision has nothing to do with the fact that you haven't seen Jay in a few days and that maybe a tiny, tiny, tiny, part of you may have missed his presence. Nothing.)

And since that logic is obviously valid (you really gotta work on justifying your life choices), you're suddenly grabbing a hoodie from your closet and hoping it'll be enough to keep you, who's merely in an old band t-shirt from high-school and pajama shorts, warm.

The breeze hits your skin the second you open the doors to your dorm's building, and you're met with the view of Jay's sleek, black BMW that probably costs more than your tuition. He waves at you from the driver's seat, motioning for you to get in.

"To what do I owe you the pleasure at this hour," you deadpan at him with a stone-cold voice as you enter through the passenger's side door, hoping your tone was enough to hide the fact that you're giddy at the fact he invited you out at 3AM in the morning. Like a high-school girl sneaking out of her house to meet up with her bad-boy boyfriend that her parents dislike.

The second you enter his car, you're instantly comforted by the warm air blasting through his vents and his playlist softly playing in the background. Jay's pajama pants and messy hair give you more than enough information to know that he probably just rolled out of his own bed as well. You don't know why, but your view: Jay in his oversized hoodie with his unkept hair in front of your dorm building at 3AM on a Tuesday night, gives you comfort in weird ways you can't explain even if you tried.

But it's obviously just your cloudy, 3AM mind not thinking straight. Obviously.

"When I can't sleep, I go on drives around campus. It helps clear my mind," he says, looking over at you to give you a quick smile before starting his car. "Plus, SnapMap said you were still awake, so...figured you'd wanna join."

"Oh so what, you're my stalker now? You're not driving to the woods to kill me now, are you?" You tease, an eyebrow brought up. Jay lets out a laugh from beside you as he begins to drive further into your campus.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he throws you a wink before reverting his gaze back to the road, mindlessly driving to wherever the road decides to take him.

A comfortable silence falls in between the two of you as Jay continues to drive endless routes around your campus. You look over to the boy driving next to you and take in his features––you don't know what changed, but you no longer feel the same anger or annoyance bubbling within you when you're around him. You're not sure when this changed, but you figure it's just the effect of desensitization. After all, you've been spending so much time with him, you're bound to get used to it. Right?

"Why were you up?" Jay finally asks after a few minutes of just the two of you silently basking in each other's presences.

"Ah, you know. The usual. Endless thoughts running through my mind, stress from school, nothing new," you sign, giving him a soft smile followed with a shrug.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You answer him with silence as you search your head for the answer.

"I don't know. This is kinda weird, isn't it?" You don't know why you get a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, you find yourself rambling on. "If you had told me a month ago that I'd be here driving around with you when it's nearly 4AM, I would've laughed in your face."

Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or scoff. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that unappealing to you?"

You give him a serious look back. "I mean, up until a month ago when you needed me for whatever this game is, you literally pretended I didn't exist."

Oh. Awkward.

You freeze at your own words, mentally screaming at yourself for letting the words leave your mouth. Why, why, why.

"Y/N..." Jay says after clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.

"No it's fine, it was a joke," you awkwardly cough and direct your attention to anything else around you right now. The view of your campus' buildings zooming by. The clicking of Jay's blinker when he switches lanes. The quiet roaring of his car's engine. The nervous tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel.

The rest of the ride is excruciatingly silent as he exits the main road and into an empty parking lot of some administration building made out of glass that has too many floors for you to count.

You don't know why you feel your heart beating in your throat as Jay puts the car into park––why you feel uneasy. You slightly turn towards him in your seat, hoping to pick up any sign of well...anything from him.

You don't know why you feel a twinge of guilt––it's not like what you said was necessarily wrong. If you were being honest, you were slightly bothered by how the two of you seemed to silently agree not to mention your past all this time. You were always one to seek answers, to seek closure. You couldn't help but bring it up––Jay was your best friend during those years. For him to just wake up one day and pretend you were nothing to him hurt you, and you couldn't help but still wonder what in the world you did to initiate his actions.

"I'm sor–" You're interrupted with his timid voice, as if he was almost afraid to speak.

"I'm not good with people." He's nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers nervously picking at a spot on the steering wheel.

You're opening and closing your mouth, unsure how to respond. You're 100% positive you look like a fish right now. Good for you.

"I don't know why. Jake calls it commitment issues but in order to have commitment, people have to stay in my life. And people just...don't. They're all bound to leave at some point. So what's the point of putting in effort into relationships if they're just going to leave you at the end?"

You're stunned by his sudden confession, not having been prepared for such a heavy topic to arise between the two of you. Up until tonight, your interactions had always been light-hearted and easy––you guys got along well. You didn't know this is how he felt all along.

But you knew where he was coming from.

You knew what Jay had gone through as a child––his mother having left him and his dad when he was young. You remember when your parents had told you the news at the young age of 13, and you remember the pain and sorrow you felt for your then friend. All you wanted to do was go to him and comfort him, but he had already cut you out from his life by then.

"Or maybe I'm the problem. My dad barely acknowledges my existence because he thinks giving me an allowance is all the parenting I need, my friends probably only stick around because they feel bad for me, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the bet, and, fuck, I'm literally known as the campus' fuckboy," Jay continues, falling deeper and deeper into the hole he dug himself.

He hates this, he hates opening up and feeling vulnerable, so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. He doesn't know why he feels comfortable voicing out his fears and worries when he's around you. But he does know it's a new feeling––one he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Jay," you lace your voice with as much comfort as you can provide. None of this is his fault, you want to tell him. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything," he says with a hint of bitterness and you can't tell if it's directed towards you or the topic at hand.

You're completely turned in your seat now to face him––despite the fact that he refuses to meet your gaze, afraid that looking at you is gonna bring out the most vulnerable in him. "You can talk to me. Talking about it makes it a lot easier. I'll always be here for you, as a friend."

Jay doesn't know what it is or why, but something in him snaps at the sound of a certain word falling out of your lips. Friend. Friend.

Friends don't make his heart beat nervously whenever he's around them. Friends don't keep him up at 3AM in the morning, pondering about his feelings for them. Friends don't provide him with this new, warm comfort he's become accustomed to whenever he's around you.

Deep down, Jay knows you didn't mean to add fuel to the fire. But because he's strong-headed, stubborn, and hates how vulnerable he feels next to you, he unleashes his emotions without thinking about the destruction coming along.

"It's none of your business, Y/N. Forget I said anything. You're just a toy for this stupid game and when it's all over we can go back to our own lives and forget this ever happened."

His sudden words cut deep, but they hurt him more than you. The second the words tumble out of his mouth, he's hit with the feeling of instant regret washing over him, and the lump forming in his throat restricts him from finding the right words to take them back.

The silence that falls between the two of you this time is different. It's a cold silence. A loud silence.

Jay feels his walls coming back up around him––the ones you managed to get through––and all he wants to do is apologize but he's terrified. Terrified of seeing your reaction, terrified of losing you again. For the second time.

You tell yourself he doesn't mean it. You tell yourself that he's just enduring more pain that one should ever receive.

But you also tell yourself that this wouldn't be the first time Jay leaves you in the dust.

You tell yourself that you're foolish for ever believing a friendship, or more, could come out of this act at the end. That you're so naive for feeling those stupid, stupid butterflies you've started to notice in your stomach whenever you see, or even think of, him.

"Okay," you begin with a firm tone. You're hurt, but you refuse to show it. You won't let him hurt you for a second time. Not again.

"Just...find me when you need me. As your fake girlfriend or just...me. I'm still here for you," is the last thing you say before un-clicking your seatbelt and leaving his car, beginning your walk back to your dorm hall.

Jay is unsure about many things in life. He's unsure about what he wants to do in the future, he's unsure of where he's going to settle in life, heck, he's unsure about what to have for lunch tomorrow. But he's sure about one thing.

That he's wearing his heart on his sleeve right now, and it's all because of you.

That you've become this new lifeline and he has to choose between holding onto you or drowning.

When Jay wakes up the next morning, his first gut instinct is to get ready to pick you up for class. But today's different. Jay doesn't know where the two of you stand now, especially after last night.

Jay doesn't know how to deal with this combination of unknown emotions he's been feeling lately. They didn't come out of no where, by any means, he realizes. They've been slowly growing over the past month of seeing you so often––like a plant he's been watering overtime, not expecting it to bloom into a flower so suddenly––but he figured it was nothing more than just enjoying the company of a friend.

Until he realizes that the term friend just doesn't suite you anymore––not to him, at least. And that scares him. It scares him that you've made him genuinely smile more in this past month than he ever has in his 19 years of living. It scares him that when he's around you he can't comprehend his own thoughts, his feelings. It scares him that you make him vulnerable, that you've changed him. That you've managed to make the walls that he's spent so long building and polishing to crumble with a simple tap of your finger.

In a perfect world, Jay would have already told you all this––he would be unafraid of how you would react, unafraid of your rejection, unafraid of losing this growing relationship with you. But alas, we don't live in a perfect world. And so when Jay drives to class that day, he drives right past your dorm building.

"Where's Y/N?" is the first thing Jake questions when he enters Jay's car that morning, confused by your absence, having been used to you being in the front seat every morning when Jay goes to give Jake rides to class as well.

"I don't know," Jay mutters, unemotional eyes focused on the road in front of him, not interested in continuing a conversation that involves thinking about you.

Jake hesitates as curiosity gets the best of him. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

Jay's hands tighten around the steering wheel of his car. "Or something. Let's just leave it at that."

There are a few beats of silence before Jake speaks up again.

"Well, I guess this works out because I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jay continues to stare straight ahead of him, focusing on just trying to get by without mentally beating himself up at the simple thought of you.

The simple thought of you and your smile. Your witty remarks. Your stupid eye rolls. Your laughter. Your kindness. So much for not thinking about you.

"I'm calling it off," Jake's words catch Jay off guard.

"Huh? Calling what off?"

"The bet. I'm calling it off. I don't care about the textbook fees I'll have to pay next semester. Look, fight or not, you and Y/N are good for each other, everyone can see it. And I really don't want this to end up being one of those messed up teen TV shows where the girlfriend finds out the entire relationship was based off of a stupid game and then they break up and the boyfriend falls into eternal sadness and regret. And I don't wanna see you sad, dude. So yeah! Congrats," although he's admitting defeat, Jake's beaming widely, just content with the fact that his best friend has finally found happiness through the form of you. "You win."

But Jay feels like the opposite of a winner. Because even though his only intention coming into this was simply winning the bet, his life isn't as simple as it was a month ago. Because he discovered something much more valuable than some stupid textbook fees or five hundred dollars or getting his physics homework done for an entire semester.

Something he's scared he's already lost.

You.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next time you see Jay is at the same time and place as when he first ever appeared to pick you up––at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building home to your awfully long Capitalism in World History class. This time, however it's different.

Because this time, it's one month later, and Jay Park is no longer a forgotten side character in the story of your life. This time, you're frustrated because it's been three days since you've last heard from Jay. And because it's been three days since you've last heard from him, you can't focus on anything else, and because you can't focus on anything else, you're falling behind on every other aspect in your life. Jay's somehow managed to become the center of your life without even having to be present.

Well, up until now. Up until you go down the steps of your lecture hall's entrance and look up to be met with a figure leaning on a car you're far too familiar with. You freeze in your steps as you make eye contact with the boy you've been thinking about non-stop for the past month three days.

Your mind tells you to walk away, to just follow your flight instinct instead of fight, to just go back to your normal life. But here's the thing. Ever since Jay's made his way back to your life, it's been far from normal.

And if you're being honest, you had no interest in going back to your normal life. Normal's overrated anyways. You find your legs bringing yourself over to him, your heart leading the way.

"Hi," you simply say, planting yourself right in front of him.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

"Waiting for you," Jay doesn't hesitate in answering you. This time will be different, he tells himself.

"I can walk myself home, thanks," you state, but your actions tell differently, as you make no sign of moving from your spot in front of him.

Jay's mind contemplates telling you everything. About how he regrets that friendship-breaking decision he made that one fateful day in the eighth grade, about his true feelings, about how he first suspected these feelings when he was 11 years old and saw you in your fancy get-up for the sixth grade dance but put it off as a little crush, and about how the same feelings grew into something so, so much more in the present. But seeing that putting all these thoughts into words would involve more than one functioning brain cell (which is all he's convinced he has in the moment, for the view of you staring up at him, looking like that, has his brain short-circuiting), he settles with:

"He called it off. It's over. The bet."

"Oh."

Silence.

Okay, Jay. This is your chance. Say it.

"Is that it?" You lift an eyebrow, awaiting for more explanation. When it doesn't come, you slightly nod and start backing away. "I'll see you around then."

Is that it? Do the two of you just go back to your respective lives now? How can Jay do that, when he doesn't even recall what his life was like before you entered it––and especially when he has absolutely no interest in going back to that life?

Fuck it.

"Y/N!" He stands up straight, a newfound confidence taking over. This time will be different, he tells himself. Because now, he knows what he wants. For sure.

You turn towards him, to see him already making his way towards you, stopping in his steps when he finds himself close enough to you that he can't concentrate anymore.

"I'm sorry for ditching you in the eighth grade. I'm sorry for ignoring you since then. I'm sorry for dragging you into this stupid mess and for pushing you away and I'm sorry for calling you a toy. Because it's far from truth. I like you. A lot. And––and I'm scared. I'm scared of what this means for us, because I just keep messing things up and all I know is that I don't wanna wake up tomorrow and realize you're not in my life anymore and––"

"Woah, woah, Jay. Slow down," you look up at him, the corners of your lips threatening to curve up into a smile. "You're an idiot, you know."

Jay's never really confessed his feelings to anyone before, per say, so he doesn't really know what to expect. But he's watched enough Netflix rom-coms in this lifetime (which is still not that many) to know that hearing the words "you're an idiot" isn't what you're supposed to hear after pouring your heart and soul out. Surely not, right?

"I––I'm not sure how to respond to that," he quietly says, searching your eyes for a sign, for anything. You giggle at his sudden shyness as you grab both his arms and look at him right in the eyes.

"It's okay. I get it, if anything, I'm also scared. But you somehow got me wrapped around your stupid finger, and I hate it," you smirk at him, your hands slowly making their way up his arms to circle around his neck.

Jay's hands naturally fall at your waist as he lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was holding as he returns your smirk. "Well, I could say the same about you. And I also hate it, for your information."

"Hmm, is that so? I guess it cancels out then, right?" You smile at him as he's pulling you in so close, your head turns cloudy.

Jay grins at you, his eyes holding so much joy and endearment as they quickly flicker down to your lips before returning to your own eyes. "I guess this only means one thing then."

"Mm, and what's that?"

And before Jay can answer––and because your life's been anything but normal lately––you make the first move this time, moving your head up to close the small gap between the two of you.

His arms instinctively tighten around you as you capture his lips with your very own, and Jay swears he's about to lift off into space right now. He's on cloud nine, and he makes no plans to touch the ground ever again.

The kiss quickly becomes fervent, all the pent-up tension that the two of you had for one another finally finding its way out, all the words that were previously left unsaid finally expressing themselves. You don't even care if you're being judged by the conservative faculty members of your school right now, or by the looks of fellow students walking past the two of you.

You try your best to keep yourself from smiling as he continues to press his lips against yours, his hand moving to hold your chin, guiding your mouth with his.

Before you find yourself getting carried away, you step back to take a breath, resting your forehead against his chest as his hands rest against your back. He smiles at the sound of you giggling against him.

Jay takes a step back to take one look at you and realizes, in this moment, that change can be good. And he's willing to undergo this change. As long as it's with you.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next morning, you bounce down the steps of your dorm building's entrance to meet the wide, bright smile of your ex-childhood-bestfriend-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-real-boyfriend waiting for you in front of his car, small pastry bag in hand. You smile back at him.

Jay drives you to class that day.

And everyday after that.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

✰ let me know what you think! if u made it til the end, mwah :') <3

[pigeontheoneandonly]

The Phylactery

Part 2 of my Dragon Age / Mass Effect crossover.  Part 1 here. (Part 3 here.)

Nathaly, Kaidan, and Garrus arrived in Crestwood only a half-day behind schedule. Kaidan barely slept those nights on the road, a death grip on the staff concealed beneath his cloak and convinced that the templars would arrive at any moment.  Once they left the highway, that fear eased, if only slightly, replaced by howls in the night and the sparks of campfires in the wilds.  The area surrounding Crestwood was formed of craggy hills, plenty of areas for bandits and worse to hide.  

They gave them a wide berth where they could.  Once, a group of four approached them, ill intentions obvious, but Nathaly put her hand to her sword and spoke quietly, words he couldn’t catch.  They backed off.  Then she took a step towards them, half-drawing her weapon, and they turned and ran.  Garrus laughed and said something about her reputation preceding her.  Kaidan didn’t know what to make of that, and wasn’t convinced he liked it.

Now he sat in the mouth of a cave, looking out over the stark and barren land as the sun fell below the mountains beyond.  Drinking it up with his eyes and trying not to feel swallowed whole.  For thirteen years, the curved walls of Kinloch Hold formed his horizon, close enough to touch, barring the occasional glance at the same tired views out the windows, or the even rarer trip beyond Lake Calenhad.  The last of those more than three years ago, a trip to Highever to fix… something. Couldn’t remember what.  Though far from the Circle’s favorite mage, his power and grasp of magic was undeniable, and they were happy to use him for heavy-lifting.  It rankled, having his only utility in life dictated by the same people who took him from his family and his home.

But without them, he had no idea whatsoever of his purpose now.  It wasn’t like he could use any of those skills anymore. Not without risking exposure.  He worried, increasingly, about becoming a burden on the small group that now comprised his only friends.

Garrus had headed into town.  Their other two friends, the ones supposed to retrieve his phylactery, were days late now, and he hoped to hear something.  Maybe meet someone who’d seen them traveling.  Kaidan wouldn’t know it, looking at Nathaly now, scrunched into a ball with her cloak as a pillow, fast asleep without a worry in the world.  He tried to remember if she slept like that as a child.  Their families were close; hers helped with the harvest at his parents’ orchard, his made themselves available for shearing season, and the kids got roped into customary tasks like watching the herds.  They spent days and nights out in the meadows.  She had a great big sheepdog she never liked much, but who loved Kaidan.

Even then, she never talked about growing up to be a shepherd.  The oldest child of a not particularly large family, it was expected, but she wasn’t the type to care.  She talked his ear off about all the places she wanted to visit, the life she wanted to lead, devouring every scrap of every story that ever crossed their tiny village square.  And it seemed she found a way.

The sight of two figures picking their way up the hillside woke him from his musing. His heart clenched as he reached for a staff that wasn’t there, left deeper in the cave where it was less conspicuous.  The smaller person walked shrouded head to toe in a cloak, but the other glinted with bright steel armor, a templar emblem proud upon the chest.

“Nathaly,” he hissed, afraid to raise his voice above a whisper.  He scurried back into the cave and found his staff. Considered casting an illusion over the entrance, but decided it would draw too much attention, the sudden change in scenery.  Instead, he shook her shoulder.  “Wake up.”

She peered at him, groggy.  “Whaisit.”

“There’s a templar.  Coming up the hill.”  Trying to project a calm he didn’t feel.  

“Shit.” She found her longsword and stumbled towards daylight.

He came up behind her.  She stood tall, shielding her eyes from the sun.  Then she relaxed.  “Hey!”

She waved. Kaidan’s stomach contracted in horror. He hauled at her arm.  “What are you doing?”

“It’s ok. I know them.”  Smiling even as she tried to reassure him.  

“That’s a templar!”

“She’s not, actually.  Well, not anymore.  Long story.” Her smile widened.  “If she likes you and you ask very nicely, she might even tell it.”

His trepidation didn’t ease as they approached the cave.  Two women, the one under the cloak an elf.  A Dalish elf, he noted with surprise, as she lowered her hood and revealed the tattoos tangling across her face, vivid on her dark skin. Her black hair was braided down her scalp in thick ridges, but her eyes were startling blue, wideset and huge in her face.  She embraced Nathaly.  “It’s good to see you.  We were delayed at the tower.”

Nathaly drew back, all concern.  “Delayed?”

“Don’t be so inscrutable, Liara,” said the ex-templar, who was already stripping off her armor, with just the barest trace of an Orlesian accent.  “Ugh, I hate this stuff.  Weighs a ton and bakes like an oven.”

Broad-shouldered and tan, she had long brown hair coiled in a knot, and brown eyes that sparkled with good humor despite her groaning.  Nathaly gestured towards her.  “Kaidan, this is Ash.  Ash, Kaidan.”

She sized him up.  “So this is him.  He’s cuter than I imagined.”

Heat crept into his face.  He glanced at Nathaly, who looked just as embarrassed.  “Why do people keep talking like they know all about me?”

Ash burst out laughing.  “Really? She never shuts her mouth about you. This mage kid from back home she swore on her grandmother’s grave to pry from the Chantry’s wicked grasp.”

His cheeks burned.  Even Liara hid a chuckle.  “I don’t know what to say.”

Ash folded her arms.  “Thank you might be appropriate.”  

He hadn’t processed enough of this to be grateful yet.  Nathaly put a bite in her voice, tiring of the teasing.  “Leave him alone.  He’s had a rough week.”

Instead, he cleared his throat.  “So, how did you…?”

“Oh, right.” Ash reached into a pouch and withdrew a small vial of magicked blood.  His blood, to be precise.  “You probably want this.”

He took it carefully.  Not because he was afraid of dropping it— in fact, he intended to destroy it at the earliest opportunity— but because he couldn’t believe he was actually holding it in his hands.  Liara read the shock on his face, and explained.  “I began as an apprentice in the Circle at Dairsmuid.  My clan’s Keeper died before she could pass on her knowledge, and the mages in Rivain have an excellent relationship with my people. For convenience, I split my education between my clan and the enchanters there.”

“Wait,” Kaidan said, completely lost.  “They just… let you come and go as you pleased?”  

She twisted her fingers together.  “The Rivaini Circle appears unlike any other.  I did not know this.  Otherwise, things may have turned out differently.”

Ash took up the thread.  “As a senior enchanter, the White Spire requested her consultation on a matter of magical theory.  And she didn’t know enough to say no.”

“I immediately found myself in trouble, when I thought I might see the sites in Val Royeaux, and attempted to leave.”  She shuddered.  “The Templars seized me.  Began to yell, and I barely spoke Orlesian then.  I spent several days in the Spire dungeons.  Then weeks, when I tried to sneak out a second time, to return home. Upon realizing my phylactery had been ‘lost’— we don’t use them in Rivain— they made another.”

Ash resumed loosening her templar armor.  “Liara was forced to remain at the Spire for several years before she found an opportunity to escape.”

“I acted contrite.  Obedient. Eventually, my earlier transgressions were forgotten, and I was given important responsibilities.  Including access to the phylactery chamber.”   And then she smiled, quietly, both self-satisfied and genuinely pleased.  “Which is how I knew the procedures to liberate yours.”

Nathaly folded her arms.  “They walked in and took it.  Pretending to be a traveling templar and her mage charge, resting up a few days at Kinloch Hold.  I take it that it seemed too suspicious to vanish after Kaidan and his phylactery walked out the door?”

“Exactly,” said Ash.  “Instead, Liara helped them search the phylactery chamber, since she’s such an expert on them, and I sat in while the templars debated how to conduct a traditional search.  I don’t think any of their strategies are likely to work.  Then, after a suitable wait, regretfully we had to continue our journey. The phylactery was on my person the whole time.”

Kaidan wrapped his fist around the vial.  Angry and thankful and sad, all at once.  He could still feel the prick in the crook of his elbow, where they pierced his skin with a knife and trickled the blood into this glass tube, knew if looked he’d still see the small scar.  

Liara touched his hand.  Looked up at him, earnest.  “I felt the same when I finally held mine, and the Spire had me far fewer years. Everything will be better now. You’ll see.”

Then she followed Ash back into the cave, in search of their provisions.  He looked at Nathaly.  “Why?”

She uncrossed her arms and shuffled away, busying herself with folding and retying her scarf, the long ends of it trailing down her back.  Most of her hair had flown free as she slept.  As far as he could tell, she mainly wore it to keep strands from falling in her eyes.  “Why what?”

“Yes, you made a promise.”  He bit his lip, turning the phylactery over in his palm.  “We were just children.”

“I don’t see how that makes it any less important.”

“You risked yourself and your friends to free me.”  He eyed her.  “I am grateful.  I think. But Nathaly, you gotta admit, that’s kind of a lot to put on somebody.”

She glanced away and let out a breath.  Then looked back at him directly, backlit by the fading light.  “You were my closest friend.  I never met anyone in thirteen years I liked better.  You meet someone like that, you hang on.”

He should set a boundary, after that sort of statement.  Establish some kind of distance.  Instead, he said, “I never forgot you, you know.  I didn’t think you’d actually come.  But it meant something that you wanted to.”

Her expression relaxed into relief.  Not the emotion he expected to see— she’d been nervous about this reunion, too, and that hadn’t stopped her, either.  She finished knotting the scarf.  “I don’t have any expectations.  You want to leave, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go and be on my way.  I didn’t do this for me.”  A brief pause.  She licked her lips.  “But… I am happy to see you.  More than I can say.”

Early in his time at the Tower, he let himself daydream about what he’d do if he ever got out.  Until it started to hurt too much.  None of those fantasies involved hiding in a cave, but the last thing he wanted to do was leave.  Having a true friend again felt… strange.  But also good.  

He hefted the phylactery, and raised his eyebrows.  “I’m going to get rid of this.  Want to watch?”

“Gladly.”

Kaidan grabbed his staff and headed out, into a small cove of pines standing tall near their makeshift quarters, nicely hidden from any watchful eyes.  He set the phylactery on a small boulder.  It rolled into a niche and settled, a glowing ruby in the last light of the sun.  Brooding there.

He contemplated it for a long moment, this tiny object which had ruled his life since he was nine years old.  Then without any preamble he raised his staff and crushed it with the end.  Blood splashed over the rock, a morbid scarlet bloom running between the shards.  Then he leveled the crystal at it, called out three words, and it erupted in white hot flames.

Nathaly watched in silence.  When it lit up, she didn’t flinch, as he expected, but instead let out a small satisfied whoosh of breath.  Like she, too, saw this as a great righting of the world.  

They stood there side-by-side until the last of the fire faded, and all that was left of Kaidan’s leash was a scorch mark on stone.  Even the glass had melted away.  Then, deliberately, he turned his back on it. “Think your friends managed to put together some dinner?”

“Are all mages constantly thinking with their stomachs?” she asked, catching his change in tone.

“Maybe?” If nothing else, Kinloch Hold never lacked for food.  For too many of his fellow apprentices, that was the first time in their lives they could expect three meals a day, as big a portion as they wanted.

“Well, it’s good we asked Garrus to lay in more supplies.”  She jerked her head towards the cave.  “Come on.  Ash is a better cook than she’ll admit.”

[tricktster]

this is a weird fish rant incoming

i wrote that post about my newest aquarium with darkmantle the betta fish about 18 times because on the first 17 passes i kept trying to find ways to reassure whoever found it through the tags that the tank was big enough and cycled and my parameters were great...

because, like, in my experience aquatics as a hobby at large (but particularly on tumblr thanks to anon asks) has the potential to be incredibly judgmental! Which... like, honestly i get!

A lot of us love tech and we love learning new techniques and how to care for species with really specific needs, but when it comes down to it... there are really just a few things you have to do to keep everyone in your average freshwater tank thriving, and i’m gonna hazard a guess and say 60-70 percent of people don’t do any of them, at least not at first!

like, fucking it up is almost baked into the hobby. we still give out goldfish at carnivals, we still see products claiming that you don’t need to change water ever if you just buy their additive or throw a plant in it and call it aquaponics, and we still sell tanks specifically marketed for betta fish that wouldn’t be a humane place to keep any living being. and how do you beat that mentality, you know? when there’s a full industry saying “no, these animals actually like! living in unheated, unfiltered plastic cubes,” or “they’re great favors for parties, put them in mason jars as a centerpiece!” there’s always gonna be some percentage of people who don’t ever question that, and it’s upsetting!

worse, the people who are really into the hobby? like i said, bad care is basically where most of us started out! most of us made those same beginner fuckups, and we didn’t provide proper care for our underwater buds because we were kids, or information wasn’t available because we had dial up, or even the information in books was often wrong, or the clerk at the pet store said it was okay, or the fucking instructions on the box did. we learned that we were wrong when our pets died. then like, we got a little knowledge, and now we feel guilty that we caused any living being to suffer in the past because we didn’t know enough or do enough to prevent that suffering.

and this is kind of a wild thing about this hobby i stumbled into, because, unlike many other hobbies, there is a measureable cost to fucking it up. tiny lives are on the line, and if you’re bad at it, they die early and unnatural deaths. for those of us who find joy in figuring out how to help our charges thrive, it sucks to know that for some people who claim to love it too, an aquarium is where you put a fish until it dies a few days/weeks/maaybe months later and you get another fish. there’s some moral weight involved that other hobbies don’t have. like, there’s a lot of bad artists out there. some people genuinely suck at knitting or the harmonica. i cannot in good faith call the thing my body does to music “dancing.” generally, the errors people make if they’re bad at a hobby do not lead to suffering and death. (exception: see, my attempts at dancing, supra.)

also, the people who are really fucking it up in the aquarium sphere don’t have a huge overlap with the people who are enthusiastically showing progress pics or asking questions about the science or art underlying these little closed ecosystems. i think people really dedicated to the hobby don’t get the opportunity to interact very often with the subset of people out there fucking it up hard. like, you know it’s happening, and it’s easy to find pictures of a shitty tank if you go looking, but most people are doing pretty fucking good if they’re already actively engaged in the hobby.

so, this is my theory about judgy, judgy fishblr. i think all that anger at people who don’t care about their animals mixes with our own shame for our early mistakes and emotions run high; then, like anything else people are passionate about, some people become holier-than-thou fundamentalists about the whole fuckin thing. if they call you out, they can stay above reproach. if they can claim that anything different from how they engage with the hobby is wrong, they can’t be accused of ever making a mistake, and maybe they don’t need to grapple with their own guilt about their own fuckups that way either. like, i know this all sounds really overblown but...seriously, my tiny following on this site is because I Am A Person Who Wrote 475000 words of Fanfic About Sans Undertale, Including His Dick, and for that crime against decency, i’m sure i DO deserve some anon hate. yet somehow, in spite of my many public sins, my most unpleasant interactions on this or honestly any social media site have been about aquarium stuff? it’s not even directly mean, it’s concern trolling like “uhh sweetie good try but you really shouldn’t have a betta unless you’ve got the space for it 😏😉” and inside i’m like “BITCH IT’S 6.6 GALLONS, it’s ONE FISH, IT’S A NANO TANK,” and yet my response is always closer to “thanks for the tip 😁😁😁😁. here’s why you’re wrong but i’ll be CHEERFUL AND FRIENDLY about it because deep down i STILL need validation that I’m not hurting my animals, EVEN THOUGH I KNOW I’M DOING GREAT”

(this, i swear to god, happens often enough that it’s a joke on the aquatics subreddits? like someone will post a pic of obscenely enormous empty tank, drained swimming pool etc and be like “any ideas what i should put in this?!” and the comments will be like “maybe big enough for a betta???” “no way. with a tank that small, one amano shrimp tops, and that’s PUSHING it”)

so there my dumb ass was last night, trying to write jokes about my fish while still preemptively demonstrating that i know my shit to stop any doubters from fishsplaining at me? and i just COULDN’T get it, and i was getting really frustrated, because it’s so obnoxious to be lumped in with people who never change their pets’ water and don’t know to cycle their tanks and certainly don’t regularly find themselves hunched over 5 ml beakers waiting for the reagents to assure them their ammonia level is as close to 0 parts pet million as possible...

and then i remembered how i deal with anyone who questions my competency in literally any other field. I don’t smile and emoji my way through being attacked by some asshole on the internet when any other topic is on the line. i certainly don’t scramble for the reciepts to prove they’re wrong. instead, i use every debater’s most feared technique:

I threaten to crawl into their house and put things in their ears while they’re sleeping.

Hmmm, oh, are you implying that I don’t know how to care for my obviously healthy, thriving animals? not anymore, because you can’t question my commitment with your EARS FULL OF GOOGLY EYES, JARED!

...this went so far off the rails. in conclusion, take care of your pets, and don’t be insecure in your abilities.

oh, and saltwater tank elitist snobs can eat my farts. give your balls a tug ya shitheads.

[wunderlass]

Roswell episode one - notes from an under-caffeinated rewatch

For absolutely no reason, after episode six I decided to go back and rewatch the existing episodes with fresh eyes and perspective. These are my thoughts, questions etc, posted episode by episode before the new one tomorrow night.

I’m focusing less on Malex since that seems to be where the majority of meta gets directed.

(No sideblogs we post every hyperfixation on main, but here’s a tag to blacklist and a cut to save your dashboard).

Well the alien crash certainly looked like a weather balloon. Lots of tattered fabric which is very odd.

Liz is surprised that Max is still in Roswell – I guess she assumed he would have carried on with his previous travel plans when she changed hers.

Carina confirmed on Twitter that Liz has been back for holidays (she just hasn’t seen Max) which makes sense or this is a very subdued reunion between Liz and Arturo after 10 years. But I like that since then I am marginally less sad for Papa Ortecho.

Liz is very conveniently closing up on her own there. Also, considering the town hates the Ortechos, I guess the Crashdown serves great food because they apparently all kept going there.

“I’m not one of the bad guys, Liz.” Now, I really hope that doesn’t end up being a horrible piece of foreshadowing in hindsight. I don’t want to rewatch this pilot in, say, five years, and think “FUCK YOU MAX EVANS.” Yes, now we know he’s done bad things, but depending on your view of human (alien?) nature that does not fundamentally make him a bad person.

Max is genuinely surprised that Liz remembers anything about him. Guess he’s been torturing himself in that decade assuming she forgot allll about him.

His line about protecting people definitely now belies that guilt has been his primary motivator for ten years. He’s quick to change the subject – leading onto:

He tries to say he’s sorry about Rosa (the source of his guilt) – this suggests they never spoke again after the desert trip – but Liz changes the subject, providing him with an easy out.

Healing Liz is the least he could do since he is directly responsible for her being shot. In hindsight his desperation to heal her is as much motivated by that ever-present guilt as it is love. And he’s probably surprised it worked this time when it didn’t for Rosa. Has he used his powers at all since that night? Their conversation later on suggests not.

He doesn’t go back to check on Liz, leaving that to the sheriff. Avoiding her again? She seeks him out in their next encounters (not him).

“Self-righteous lecture” in the drunk tank – okay Michael but you flaunting your powers like that is dangerous for all of you. You don’t know at this point that Max has broken his own rules.

“You’ve never done anything for anyone!” is still a strange line, though oft-debated. Michael helped in the cover-up, took the fall for Isobel and gave up his chance to get out of Roswell. Hardly nothing. But maybe it does refer to Michael basically becoming a drifter after that point and not doing anything to try and put right what they did.

Max does not confide in Isobel. She has no idea he still carries a torch for Liz. I don’t think she knows much about him at all, for all the time they spend together. His emotions are buried deep.

Michael makes plenty of digs about Alex’s dad. I think something went down after the hammer attack where Alex had to choose between Michael and his father – and he chose his father. Probably still craving acceptance despite everything. Maybe Michael pushed him away deliberately, but the bitterness on Michael’s side here would make that less likely.

Rosa really wanted Liz to get out of Roswell. She might not have been the best big sister but she still wanted the best for Liz. It’s sad that what happened coloured Liz’s perceptions of Rosa and really, robbed her of her chance to grieve for her sister.

“Can you keep a secret?” “Of course.” Yep, Max is great at keeping secrets. Liz…not so much.

Max is torn but his loyalty to his siblings is just about stronger than his pull towards Liz. I think only that all-pervading guilt sways it. But Michael and Isobel were right to assume Max was the weak link all those years ago.

Was Maria Rosa or Liz’s BFF? Or both? (if she was Rosa’s it makes sense she wasn’t at prom, as she would have graduated a year or two earlier).

In ten years has Max actually tried to love again, or has he shut himself off, at least emotionally? Did he decide it’s too big a risk to get attached? Even Isobel has a distance from Noah. Maybe it’s easier for Max to not even try and therefore live in the dream of what might have happened with Liz.

“I don’t dance in this town anymore” – her last dance was with Max.

I could be team Kyliz but they just don’t have that Echo chemistry.

Jim Valenti’s brain cancer – legit or somehow induced because he knew too much?

Max is offended by Liz calling him a stranger but, like, you are.

Much has been written about that Peak Whiteness statement, and Max’s quite callous disregard for why Liz hates Roswell. The aliens are far too wrapped up in their own fear of what might happen to them to do anything about the suffering of others (and ain’t that a metaphor). But when Max says that his family are happy – are they really? Or just living that comfortable lie Isobel spoke of?

“My life is ordinary” but miserable.

So who did put the pods in the cave? (I know, I know, one big mystery at a time).

Why oh WHY did nobody question the random mute kids found near the alien crash site? I know most people will treat the crash as a local myth/hoax and not make the connection, but surely this stuff made local news? Trying to locate their families before getting them adopted out? Did Jesse Manes/Jim Valenti (the sheriff!) not hear about this and go “this is weird, maybe we should keep an eye on these kids or dig a bit more. How have they never ended up on Manes’ radar?

Also exactly why was Michael harder to place – was his power manifesting even then?

Kyle does a lot of non-surgical medicine for a surgeon.

Isobel stopped messing with minds after Rosa died and only started again in episode 3 when she was trying to influence Liz. Cue blackouts. Maybe the cause of the blackouts is something as simple as using her powers.

The almost kiss here mirrors the almost kiss in episode six and they are both things of aching beauty.

Is that hope we see in our expression, Max? Don’t get too comfortable with it.

I don’t think Jesse Manes’ is all that bothered about protecting the world. He’s just eager for war. He longs for an excuse to cause pain. The description of the aliens is a description of himself (…could it be? Surely not?)

Also, how exactly does he know all of that? If only one known alien ever survived, what makes them think the aliens are so terrible? What exactly has this project been chasing for so many decades if there’s so little evidence of the aliens being out there? (I wonder if anybody ever dug up a desert corpse with a handprint on his chest).

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

not that this really matters, but the notes i was using to help me write my life story have been scrapped when the word program i was using mysteriously decided to update.

This does not mean that i am royally screwed by any means. It only means that i will have to remap the years 2001-2003, and since i have all this stuff in my brain it shouldn’t be too big of a problem getting it all logged down. I should probably reread what i have written so far in order to keep it kind of fluid. Not that it matters too awful much to anyone on here. I think there is about 4-5 people who stuck around for all the endless parts, reading about every breakdown i had.

But really, this wasn’t such a bad place to start anew, so to speak, since this was kind of a part two beginning point for me anyway. I will start talking about my experience in high school. My brain sort of wired itself differently and remembers things in a different way after this point. So it was kind of a change.

I’ve also been kind of weary of writing or thinking for some reason. I feel kind of stressed out, like i am about to panic. My eyes are twitching a little.  I had a fight with both my parents, my father stayed over one of the nights, and he started going off at five in the morning when he woke up and i had just gotten off work about how wonderful trump was for pulling out of the Paris Agreement. When i sited numerous reasons from a reasonable person - bipartisan standpoint even, he basically told me to shut up. I accidentally interrupted him. He interrupts more than anyone i have ever known, and i didn’t even know he was planning on saying anything since i was lying on the couch turned back from him. I basically told him that i was sorry i interrupted, but to be fair, i learned it from the best. Then i kicked him out. This all happened at five in the morning, and i still can’t figure out why anyone would want to get in a heated debate over politics at five in the morning. Conservative talk radio has kind of ruined him thought process, and he keeps talking about how he wants the world to be destroyed. He supports Donald Trump from a standpoint that he wants to see the world fall apart - out of some kind of revenge. He thinks human beings are too lazy, and in his mind, the return of deadly diseases, economic collapse, starvation, limited natural resources, a destroyed ecosystem and so forth would be really good - and even funny to him. He also shook hands with a man about a year ago who openly supported the KKK so i honestly really kind of resent him. He genuinely sites this situation as an example of his tolerance too. It’s beyond words. And i really just had enough and told him to get the hell out.

With my mom, i basically was planning a trip to see Nick Cave in Portland. It was my own trip. My mom and my brother live together, and he also wanted to see Nick Cave in concert. I offered to get David on the train with me. From there, my mother assumed that i was to be responsible for David’s food, lodging, transportation and so on and so forth. Then i found out that I had bought the wrong tickets. I had bought tickets for Los Angeles instead. I have tried to sell them, but to no avail. My mom was expecting more and more from me financially, and it was running to be a trip over 1000 dollars. All so i can not even go to the event i wanted to go to. She had intentionally put it off hoping that out of desperation and guilt i would take all the responsibility. Basically, she was trying to use me because she knows she has been able to in the past. I went along with it for a few days, but should couldn’t even answer some straight questions about accommodations. It was really stressing me out. I woke up a few mornings ago and just decided to cancel the whole trip. I had already wasted about 600$ on concert and train tickets i was not going to get back, and i was feeling extremely shitty about that. I have never wasted that much money before. Well, i mean, i probably have wasted more than that on little things i don’t need over the course of a few years, but not all at once. I am trying to save enough to move to Portland permanently. I just decided not to go. And she freaked out at me and started saying that it was all my fault. I was afraid my brother would be mad at me. He was not.

Lastly, i have been feeling like i can’t do this version of my life anymore. I don’t get extremely upset anymore, but i can tell that something is very wrong with me when my entire life becomes hazy and my goals are to avoid everything and everyone at all costs. I should be upset actually, but i just feel like i am dying in a way. It’s not healthy, and i am not happy. I honestly think that i would be better off struggling to make it in a new town with a fresh start than i would here with a decent job and a home. There is absolutely no excitement in my life at all, and i am always alone, and it’s starting to wear on my self worth and my psyche in general. So i decided that on August 17 or August 25 - one of the two depending on the amount of money i will need, i am going to quit my job. And start making the necessary provisions to move. The problem i am having is that i have absolutely nowhere to go in Portland. Sarah, my friend lives there, but she lives with her mom. It’s a small apartment and her mom hardly likes visitors, let alone someone who wants somewhere to actually live until i find a better place. So that’s going to be difficult.

With all this going on, i have been eating very poorly. I have troubles getting to the bank and to the grocery store because i am either working or sleeping. So i have been stopping at a gas station to get food after work late at night since it is the only place near by that is open. I don’t feel very good because i have been drinking ungodly amounts of caffeine, and eating only potato chips. The guy behind the counter at four in the morning at Zip Trip is one of the only people who says a word to me sometimes for several days. The laundry room in our apartment complex is broken, so i have to keep washing my work clothes by hand. And i am extremely sensitive to heat, and it’s getting to be summer. On my days off i feel numb and confused and powerless. I just usually sleep a lot and stare at the computer screen. I should be doing more, but something in my head is not making a connection. And on top of feeling this way, i feel this nagging panic and guilt that i am wasting my time. I see people my age graduating from their post graduate schools, getting married, having kids. I know their lives are not perfect, but i still know that i am definitely missing something. About a month ago, i was bouncing off the walls with clarity and energy and direction and now i feel like i can barely move half the time. But i also feel extremely anxious, but i don’t even know what for. My sister and her boyfriend don’t really get it, and they think i am just lazy for the sake of lazy. This isn’t fun for me, and even though it’s inevitable and even understandable for people to see this as my identity, this is not really who i am.

Anyway, from all that, i have temporarily found myself in a place where i am lacking enough clarity of thought to even write my life story for now. I was honestly panicking about getting back to it, shaming myself and the like. So i realized that i need to kind of face what the situation is at the moment. I look forward to doing it, and it will be fun. I just can’t right now. But rest assured, i will eventually get back into it.

[userpoe]

I was tagged by @fisforfulcrum thanks sweetie 😘

Why did you choose your URL?

I was really getting back into my sequels spin and wanted something short and snappy to change to, but I also wanted it to be connected to Poe in some way. Since all the good Poe urls were taken, on a whim I checked to see if zoriis was available. It was, so I changed to it and it...just sort of became my brand? I don't ever wanna change from it I don't think...unless a really good Poe url opens up anyway, which I doubt. And I get a serious seratonin rush whenever anyone refers to me by my url in the tags idk why.

Any side blogs?

I have my x reader fic blog @luminouspoes where I use to reblog all my recs + post my fics before I decided to move all my bullshit here. I'm also co-mod of @thedamereynetwork because I love my babies.

How long have you been on tumblr?

Since 2011/2012. I didn't really get active on here until late 2013, though.

Do you have a queue tag?

the classic and very original "queue". I use to do the snazzy quotes thing but I can never stick to one for very long. I've debated here and there making a new queue tag, maybe with a sw quote, but eh who has the spoons for that.

Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Initially back when, it was meant to help me with my nonfiction writing. Instead, Tumblr ended up being instrumental in me discovering fanfic and honing my fiction writing craft through that. I remade my blog a shit ton of times as a teenager, though, and the thing that kept me coming back was all the pretty content and my friends. Plus, where else am I gonna be this weird on? Twitter? Hell no.

Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Because I thought the Poe emoji on the Star Wars app was precious. Then, for pride month, I decided to add the aroace flag behind him because well. I'm asexual and dubiously aromantic, and I hc Poe being aspec, so I thought it'd be nice. Did you know his second X-Wing kind of has the same color palette as the aroace flag? It's pretty damn cool still not Black One but cool

Why did you choose your header?

Because @abelmorales and @michaelperry are responsible for me falling head over heels with Michael Perry and I wanted to include (1) soft perfect angel teacher man on my blog somehow fjsjsjskss so soft af flannel clad grading papers Michael it was.

What’s your post with the most notes?

This Poe gifset here, which astonishes me given how many braincells I had to rub together to figure out how to phrase the captions (the irony, I know). I guess we have a thing for competency and forearms in this fandom?

How many mutuals do you have?

A few! Dunno how many dunno how one would know that.

How many follows do you have?

Too many, in my opinion??? There's almost 1.2k of you now and I don't know why you're all here but I appreciate it nonetheless.

How many people do you follow?

Little under 200 and most of those are inactive anymore. I'm pretty picky abt what I follow cos of my anxiety and also idk if you've noticed but most of my interests revolve around shit that's been over for several years. And a lot of blogs are really ship-oriented, and I just...don't vibe with shipping communities so I try to stay on the outskirts of all that.

Also I'm pretty guarded about who I follow due to years of casual aphobia being thrown around this site, and now wariness about how blogs act abt neurodivergent folk and characters

...but if anyone knows of any more active Oscar blogs that are nice abt Poe and the sequels or moffat era dw blogs...please let me know fjdksks my dash is always dead

Have you ever made a shitpost?

With my brand of humor I think most of my jokey posts kind of teeters on it. But I don't think I've ever outright done a shitpost.

How often do you use tumblr each day?

*coughs* pretty often. I'm a slow scroller, so it takes me awhile to get through the dashboard to start with and I also like checking the edit tags and then if I go through a blog I can end up going down a rabbit hole of looking through their posts or their tag about a show or movie or character I like and then whoops where has the time gone. But I'm kind of pulling myself away from scrolling so much on Tumblr, if anything so my dashboard is a little more active when I do hop on, and also so I can get some other hobbies in like writing or reading (working through the second to all the boys book rn!)

Did you have a fight with another blog once?

*laughs my ass off* no. I stick to my lane, if someone posts something that I'm uncomfortable with or I disagree with, I just... unfollow? I'm not interested in vague posting people either, I don't see the damn point. This is my little internet cottage and I don't see the point in fighting the village when I can just ignore them and care for fellow wanderers, ya feel?

Though, come to think of it, I have told off a fair few anonymous asks who were trying to bully my friends or mutuals but. I don't know if we can really count that or not.

How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

[wibbles hand] I think some can veer a little too closely to guilt tripping the readers, but if it's something really important, I understand the urgency.

Do you like tag games?

I do! They're a lot of fun, I just wish I had the spoons more often to do them. I also tend to freak out because I never know who to tag because I'm simultaneously worried I'll be annoying if I do tag someone, and if I forget someone I'll make them feel left out.

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

First off, Laura's answer to this question is so damn precious I'm going to cry, love you babes. Second of all, I genuinely think all my mutuals are Tumblr famous. Like in my head I'm just like "that person is so fucking awesome oh my god they're so cool I bet they have so many followers they deserve it all their posts are exquisite". I love my mutuals and there's a good chance (see: yes) that if we're mutuals I consider u my friend in my head I'm just too shy to admit it out loud yet jdjdks

Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I literally get hearts in my eyes everytime I go down my dashboard. I am platonically kissing you all on the cheek and giving you cocoa. I love you.

no pressure tags: @bee-dameron @djarinsbeskar @michaelperry @abelmorales @starryeyedstories @misterrimpossible @exlibrisastra and @princedimitris and anyone else I may be blanking on

[foursprout-blog]

How To Be Authentic

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/how-to-be-authentic/

How To Be Authentic

You’re reading How To Be Authentic, originally posted on Pick the Brain | Motivation and Self Improvement. If you’re enjoying this, please visit our site for more inspirational articles.

We all awake each day and get ready to head out into the world. We put on our clothes, possibly our makeup. The last thing we put on is the way in which we act in front of others. We operate in a certain way, depending on who is around us. We do this because we think that this is the way in which we gain friends and influence people. All of these actions make our persona.

The Persona

We create this persona because we are often not okay with who we are. We also may think if we act some other certain way then we will gain a more considerable amount of success. The idea that this is an illusion is rarely talked about in the modern western world.

According to Carl Jung: “The persona is a complicated system of relations between individual consciousness and society, fittingly enough a kind of mask, designed on the one hand to make a definite impression upon others, and, on the other, to conceal the true nature of the individual.” [1]

Before we leave the house, we clothe ourselves. This covering is our first layer of defense against the world. As long as we veil ourselves, we conceal our bodies for what they are. We must understand that our bodies are not us, they are but a small part of us.

The next level of defense is through our words and deeds. We create in our mind a particular way of acting or presenting ourselves to others. We do this to try to position ourselves some way in this game called life to gain something.

The Pearl

We can think of what it is that we conceal as some small spec of dirt, or darkness within us. The analogy can then be drawn to that of a pearl. As Jim Carrey so succinctly put it:

“What is the dirt that the pearl is built around? And the pearl is the personality that you build around yourself as a protection against that thought: “If they ever find out that I’m worthless if they ever find out that I’m not enough, I’ll be destroyed.”

The dirt then is the real you in all of your flaws, intricacies, and quirks. This message seems especially poignant coming from someone who is so successful by most measures of society.

Living with the knowledge that we are regularly covering up the real and spontaneous self-leads us to a life of tension. This tension comes from the duality of what we present to the world and that of our actual selves. The vaster the distance between the two the more stress, anxiety, fear and sadness you will feel.

We know that we are carrying around a heavy burden and we all would like to release it. Death is the point where it all falls away, and we don’t have to worry or try anymore. This falling away is a similar idea which makes drugs and alcohol appealing. We are continually looking to go on vacation from ourselves.

The Thorn

There is another analogy that we can explore to better define the dirt of the pearl. Michael Singer suggested in his book “The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself” that this dirt is like a thorn. Any emotional or spiritual pain that we have inside of us is like a very painful thorn in our side. The barb is sensitive to specific stimuli such as having others being close to us either physically or emotionally.

We try to cover the thorn up with layers upon layers of gauze. However, like the story of the princess and the pea, no matter how many layers, when someone gets close to us there is acute, chronic pain.

Having this painful thorn in our side, we can choose to do one of two things, create a life of avoidance that stays clear of anything that might disturb the barb, or we can decide to pull this it out.

The pain will be much more significant up front if we choose to deal with this pain, however, in the long run, our lives will be much better off. The only thing that our brains use to judge pain is the maximum intensity and the ending state. So right off the bat, the best decision for us – pulling out the thorn – will be the most difficult due to pure human psychology.

If we choose to pull out the thorn, two things come into play here. Spontaneity and present moment awareness as tools for the cultivation of real freedom.

Spontaneity

The ancient eastern mystics knew the power of spontaneity. That is why in Buddhist monasteries the teachers hit their students with sticks, throw spoons at them, or tell them to listen for a distant river hundreds of miles away. These practices are all in the name of getting a completely genuine, spontaneous reaction out of the student.

Spontaneity is an incredibly complex game for westerners as we have all been raised with the mindset of contemplation, debate, and planning before acting. It is often correlated with brash, unintelligent or uninformed decisions. In reality, a spontaneous arrangement allows for the much more powerful unconscious mind to come into play.

True spontaneity can only come with extreme present moment awareness. We must release the story that we tell ourselves and not let it influence our current moment experience. Interpretation of our thoughts and emotions is our only real choice in life. We must take them as lessons, learn and leave them behind.

It should be made clear that spontaneity does not mean that we just give up all responsibility or do what we want to no end. If we are intensely aware of ourselves, we know that this is not the right path. True spontaneity comes from the fulfillment of our own personal, spiritual journey.

We can think of spontaneity much as Alan Watts has taught in the framework of a flower or the beating of your heart. A flower does not think about growing, it just grows. You do not think about beating your heart, it just beats. Your heart does not seek all possible pleasures it can because it is spontaneous. It remains in perfect balance and harmony with the rest of your body. This pattern is the way of spontaneity.

Take Off The Mask

We have two choices in our lives. Keep putting on the mask to fabricate the impression we make upon others while concealing our authentic selves, or let go of the story that we tell, face the fear of vulnerability and lead a genuine and spontaneous life. I am not suggesting it is easy, as I still struggle with it daily. However, as you can probably agree, any valuable life skill or personal growth is not natural.

[1] “The Relations between the Ego and the Unconscious” (1928). In CW 7: Two Essays on Analytical Psychology. P.305

https://en.gravatar.com/thelifeodyssey

Pete is a young, energetic, life loving “thoughtrepreneur”. An engineer by training he has found himself as an inspirational and thought-provoking writer. His primary goal is to help people to lead “grounded and thrilling lives” through thought and idea sharing. His website with blogs, art and soon to be book promotion can be found at: www.thelifeodyssey.com

You’ve read How To Be Authentic, originally posted on Pick the Brain | Motivation and Self Improvement. If you’ve enjoyed this, please visit our site for more inspirational articles.