#everyone be proud of me for not making it all about Wang Ye i truly am gods strongest soldier

[mistbornthief]

good shit right here

[lovesquare-enthusiast]

I was informed it was Marinette day???? Yes PLEASE thank you so much to @mar1netteday for this lovely event it brings me j o y

I believe I started watching Miraculous Ladybug the same year season 1 was released? Like many people, I was instantly hooked because anyone can tell this show had just so much potential and so does Marinette Dupain-Cheng girl i love you sm (like canonically she probably is a little older than me but she is my daughter in my heart).

There was so much in this girl i love, my comfort character. She liked to create and it didn't matter what it was or how, Marinette just had an incredible of amount wonderful things she wanted to bring forth into the world and she knew it too!! Whether it was in fashion, art, album covers, the way she faced her problems, give gifts, the way she wants to express herself creatively in any way possible, fsjhsldg I LOVE THAT SO MUCH HOW COULD YOU NOT.

Honestly Marinette is someone you want on your team, being practically an all-rounder. She is a great leader, a kind friend, and a hardworking daughter, and positively the best Marinette she can be at every moment even as she is still growing. Seeing her grow makes me so proud.

Also let's not forget just how pretty she is???? I know not a lot of 14 year olds wear pigtails anymore (at least not where I'm from) but for some reason she just?? went from wearing a bun to pigtails???? You go girl!!! Yes sweetie rock those pigtails they are so iconic!!!!!!! And the amount of talent she has???? Too much but yes keep! it! coming!!!!!!!!!! Sewing, baking, designing, decorating, planning, gaming, fencing, sports, MAKING FRIENDS literally how could you not want someone like Marinette in your life. She is so funny and hilarious and cute please I want to hug her oH

And she loves her family and friends which I love to see. She hugs and hugs everyone she loves gets a Marinette hug!! She just wants to squeeze you so hard with her arms around so you know just how much she appreciates your existence!!!

Lastly, I didn't grow up watching a lot of western shows with an Asian female lead and so finding about MLB was really a special moment for me because I relate to a lot of Marinette's Asian experience as well. Like when she's not very good at Mandarin because boy that really hits deep. When you're young, you're just trying to figure out how you can fit in where you are at the moment.

So when I was watching the Shanghai special, I was so excited for her to learn more about her Chinese heritage! I could tell that she really did admire great uncle Wang. Typing this part kinda makes me want to tear up lolol The part where she sees old pictures of her mother? It left an impression on me, like the moment felt so, so real. Marinette just embraces everything and is still learning to embrace so many parts of herself, making her into the girl/superhero she is today. I also remember in the movie, she missed out on making dumplings. It made me sad but it just goes to show how hard Marinette works, fighting for justice and making wrongs right in and out of the costume.

Marinette has so much on her plate that she misses stuff like that and spending time to learn about herself in different ways, spending time with her parents and family, spending time with friends, spending time relaxing and not having responsibilities young teenagers shouldn't have on their shoulders. Marinette truly is such a hardworking and determined individual and I deeply admire her dedication to persevere.

I want this girl to get everything she ever deserves, happiness, love, those she cares about in her life, and freedom to express herself in any way she wants and to triumph every evil that dares stand in her way all the while still looking super cute and amazing! Happy Mar1nette day everyone!

[accio-victuuri]

I am incredibly soft reading the rumour where dd accepted bxgs as his fans when asked about donations. It is just so warm of him to say despite ppl's perception of linking to gay ship fans. Moreover, innocent/ignorant people receiving donations tagging ggdd's solo fans, bjyx st and them makes me feel like a huge happy family. I am happy that bjyx contributing to society on GGDD's behalf is known to them even if they can't accept us publicly.

Hello! Awww. Yes! This is a cute rumor going around. This is not the first them bxgs did charity in their name so i think it’s safe to say he knows what they do. And LOL at the other stories coming out from people who received stuff from XZ & YB Fans! 😂

• that person who tagged solo supertopics & then tagged the bjyx topic. So everyone is in one post. I mean, if there is anything that could bring us together, it should be something like this.

The second batch of supplies arrived~ At first I thought Wang Yibo Xiao Zhan fans donated a big passionfruit, later learned that it was the name of the cp fan, so cute, everyone is here complimenting you ....

• those who were looking for bxg as an individual weibo account and couldn’t find it. they wanted to say thank you.

+ more people tagging their names who have no idea about the CP.

Who wouldn’t be proud to say they have fans like this? Donated more than 7M RMB for the Henan flood?

And this one that was shared in the ST. Thursday afternoon, they had a sign up for people to donate goods ( no cash ) and in 3 hours, it’s almost filled up ( they had to limit it based on the vehicle available to carry goods ). Many volunteered to pack things. These are people who came from work and had to spend their friday night packing relief goods till early saturday morning and even the whole day.

To me, this is what it means to be BXG. It’s not all about candies, CPN and whatever thing that proves it’s real for you. The reason why i’m staying is that I truly enjoy what this fandom has to offer. I am happier since I joined the fandom and got to know Xiao Zhan & Wang Yibo. My days are better. Lol. I’m getting emo cause my FB memories showed me a post i shared from 2010 and It’s still true to this day.

[nightingtalehearts]

2Ha Thoughts.

I honestly applaud Chen Feiyu for taking on the role of Mo Ran. It's really hard to act out his character, so I said to myself that I wouldn't have any high expectations for the incoming live drama adaptation. Most people think that Feiyu will act out 3 versions of his character - Mo Ran 0.5, Mo Ran 1.0, and Mo Ran 2.0 - but for me, I like to think that there are 4 different ones.

SPOILERS AHEAD!! BE WARNED!!

First, he'll act out as the infamous Taxian-jun, who is a savage, bloodthirsty, and lustful mound. He is quick to anger and won't hesitate on killing anything that's on his path (except umm..of course, Chu Wanning hehe). This version is the evil form of his emotions, the one that the flower brought out, and twisted himself so hard that he would be horrified by the things he've done if he had any left sanity in him. (2Ha readers would, of course, know this as we experience his thoughts and emotions as he was reincarnated in his second life later on.) Everything this person did was on the image of his supposed lover, Shi Mei. He thought he dearly loved him so held everyone, most especially Chu Wanning, in contempt after Shi Mei passed away.

Second, he'll act out as Mo Weiyu. In this version, he is a disciple of Chu Wanning, the Yunheng Elder, and he is also a cultivator and an acquaintace to others, such as Ye Wangxi and Nangong Si. People see him as a person with filial respect (which WE know will be ironic since he fell in love with his shizun later on, for goodness' sake 😂) and average skills - he doesn't have a spiritual weapon yet, nor does he have good calligraphy or communication abilities. He is a hardheaded person, as we can see from his vehement denial on many things, including his affair with Rong Jiu. At this point, he is slowly "falling out of love" from Shi Mei and he begins his path towards redemption, looking for things and silver linings in every situation.

Third, he'll act out as Mo Ran, which subjectively, is the hardest role yet. Even I can't explain him this well because this version of his character is so complex. It can actually be divided into two parts. The first part: as a child, in his heart, he desperately craves and needs love. Mo Ran was the child that loved his mother, who named her as the first person that he liked the most in the world. He was the child who saw the hope and joy in everything despite all the pain and hurt that the world gave him. He was the kid that was beaten down to the dust, yet when he recived food from a stranger, he held the latter dearly in his heart, grateful for his blessings. He's the teen who entered Sisheng Peak, who immediately picked Chu Wanning because he said that he looks the gentlest and the most easy-going. He's the person who only had the purest love for Chu Wanning, and he's also the person who died just to protect him. (For me, this version of him died when he made Shi Mei take him instead of Chu Wanning. At that point he slowly became Taxian-jun, a puppet molded by Shi Mei.) And let's not deny it: just like how Mo Ran unknowingly loved Chu Wanning here, the latter also unknowingly loved him too. As of that point, they didn't "fall in love" with each other, but they were each other's light - they both gave each other the love they both deserved, so at most, they were each other's precious treasures.

The second part is on his next life. He is now known as the cousin of Xue Meng, the adopted nephew of Madam Wang & Xue Zhengming, the sect brothers of A-Mei and A-Meng, and the unruly disciple of Chu Wanning. At this point, he realizes that he may not have loved Shi Mei that deeply as he thought, but take note that he doesn't think that he is in love with his shizun yet. In the contrary, at this point, he is still adapting to his new circumstances, and he is learning new things as well as patching up misunderstandings. From his past life, his personality drastically changes, as shown from the immense change in spiritual weapons, from Bugui to Jiangui. This goes to show that even if they are the same person, he is a breaker that can lead himself to a different path. (Readers would also be giddy when they find out that Jiangui is similar to Tianwen, which symbolizes the deeply encased love he has. It also symbolizes that Mo Ran is an oblivious idiot periodt.)

Mo Ran is also the version who was conflicted by his own emotions. He is the person who begins to understand and notice some things, the person who finds out that his shizun was protecting not only him, but also everybody all along. It is he who sees Chu Wanning truly, and he notices that despite all the harsh wards and cold persona that the latter has, deep inside, he has a soft heart. It's he who notices everything that went wrong in his previous life, and he's also the person who's confused on his past actions. After Chu Wanning died, through Xue Meng drilling it into his brain, he found out that he was protecting him from the shadows, going as far by carrying him through more than three thousand steps to save him. (catch me crying in the corner I CAN'T WITH CHAPTER 97 HUHUHU) He's the person who regretted deeply.

Finally, the last version he'll act out is Mo-zongshi. This version started after the death of Chu Wanning, and also when he was about to go to the underworld. At that point, he saw all the instances where his shizun showed his love. He saw the wontons scene, in which he tried his best to assure his shizun that he doesn't need to be sorry, because on that specific day, the very reason why he was whipped, was because he stole that flower just for Chu Wanning, him. (btw all the symbolisms in this novel ARE INSANE like the flowers?? it could be for either the one mentioned or the ones Shi Mei planted. let's not mention the food: wontons, bowl of soup, bowl of congee, EVEN THE DAMN HOTPOT) He's the person who put back the pieces of the one he loves, brought him back to life, and waited five years for him.

He's a man in grief. He's a man in love.

While he waited for Chu Wanning to wake up, he now became the person that he very much wanted to be when he was younger: a hero. Now, he was Mo-zongshi, a famous cultivator known for his strength and bravery. He took on fights and got injured, but he never once stopped because he did it all for his shizun, to make him proud. Unconsciously, because of his yearning (CATCH ME CRYING AGAIN the quote?? "To yearn unwittingly breaks the willow branch." nOO), he copies Chu Wanning, down to his handwriting, his style of fighting, his outfit, and the way he looks. The person that's deeply in his heart is shown outside, so much that even Nangong Si mistakenly thought that he was Chu Wanning. Later, after Chu Wanning wakes up and after certain circumstances, he realizes that he was and still is in love with him all along, not Shi Mei.

At this point, Chu Wanning also falls in love with him. He saw the goodness in his heart, the strength and bravery he had, and the kindness he showed towards others. Aside from the bonus brownie points which is Mo Ran's looks (not blaming shizun, our husky is too good-looking!!), they now resolve their misunderstandings and their relationship turns deeper. When Mo-zongshi finally confesses...incoming fluff all around.

But like the Mo Ran version, his ending is way too sad. He deserves to know that it wasn't his fault that he turned out this way. It wasn't his fault that he turned out to be evil and hurt his lover. I know this, you know this, all readers know this, Chu Wanning knows it, but he doesn't, which is the most painful thing ever, because how much does it hurt for you to think that you abused the man you love in your past life? I was quite literally sobbing when he mentioned that Chu Wanning was his "God", his dragon, who had come to save him even if he felt like he didn't deserve it. He died, and he was the person who Chu Wanning mourned over, because it wasn't his fault, it never was.

(...i'm so empty inside...chapter 279...that chapter legit suffocated me due to my tears...)

But at the end, all those versions of him are, at core, the same. They may not show it similarly, but they are all strong on their beliefs, they are all stubborn and determined, they all love deeply and fiercely, immensely passionate and protective over the ones they love, and they are all a good person, if you look deeply into his heart.

Through Taxian-jun's dreams and his protection of his lover's corpse, through Mo Weiyu's determination on his redemption, through Mo Ran's regrets and understanding, and through Mo-zongshi's grief and love, it can be said that this character is one that you couldn't help but love. It's been so long, but his character really stood out to me from the many novels I read. This character is complex, with different versions of himself, but at the end of the day, it's still the person we love: our very own husky A-Ran.

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU, part 1

masterpost     next

Huge thanks to the Maribat Fandom tumblr chat, without whom I wouldn’t have made this blog or posted this piece (or probably written this at all given that it’s a maribat fanfic)! @the-fusionist and @rebecarojas07 specifically for encouraging me!

*****

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Damian is a week shy of fourteen the day the names appear inked on people’s skin, when he wakes up to ink that doesn’t wash off and the news reports that all around the world people have woken up to find the same phenomenon.

The world accepts it readily enough.

Soulmates.

There are tales of it happening before, every mythology and history and folklore delved into and the proof brought forward, but no one actually can say what triggered it, or why now.

In Paris, Marinette wakes up the day after she becomes Ladybug, a dark inked name of her own blooming vivid across her skin.

“It’s because you’re a true holder, Marinette,” Tikki says almost bouncing in midair. “People can use the Miraculous without being as in tune with them, but when we land in the hands of someone who is not just attuned, but truly meant for us- interesting things happen! Especially with the Ladybug Miraculous! These markings reveal who your Soulmate is!”

Her eyes still skim over the writing, and she has to hold in her almost immediate disappointment when she doesn’t see the two swirling A’s she wanted.

“Damian Wayne.”

*****

Marinette doesn’t let it get to her most days, the fact that the name across the front of her shoulder and the name of the boy she feels she’s lost her heart to aren’t the same.

Adrien, for his part, says nothing about what name he has, and it isn’t visible for anyone to find out.

Marinette keeps her designs modest in the neckline, always layers with her favorite jacket and does not say hers either.

The world divides into those who show them proudly, who build forums and websites and apps where people try desperately to connect with their soulmate, and those who decide that to seek it out would ruin the- destiny of it all.

Marinette doesn’t even google him.

She doesn’t want to think about destiny any more than she has to.

*****

Damian keeps it hidden from his family. Grayson has Kori’s name running down his neck, and though they don’t show them off, he’s aware that Todd and Drake have their own as well. Father’s got “Selina Kyle” trailing from his wrist down to the side of his left thumb.

Grayson asks him, once. He shuts it down immediately, and he doesn’t get asked again.

*****

Lila claims her soulmate is someone rich, reclusive, and far away. She doesn’t give details about who they are, but she can tell you millions of stories about how they met as children, grew up knowing each other, how he’d begged for her to stay by his side but she had sighed and told him she must be free to live her own life! And how he waited for her even now to return once she’d graduated and they could marry and be fabulously wealthy and beautiful and happy together.

The class fawns over it. Each time the elusive soulmate is mentioned, Marinette locks eyes with Adrien and Chloé, unable to voice her annoyance but perfectly able to share it with them.

Alya sneers under her breath sometimes, when Lila is being particularly mouthy with her lies, that Marinette has always refused to show or even talk about her mark. That perhaps she doesn’t have one at all.

Marinette doesn’t ever respond.

Adrien tried his hardest to shut them down when they start moving in towards her or Chloé like sharks. She’d lost her crush on him when he’d told her to let Lila lie, that she wasn’t hurting anyone. And then Chloé had knocked on her door one day and- apologized.

Marinette had accepted.

And then when Chloé found out that Adrien not only knew but had actually allowed Lila to continue spinning her lies, she’d taken the boy to task and explained very clearly that Lila could not be treated the same way as his Father, where staying quiet and giving in was the only way to weather his unsavory bad moods. And while his Father demanded he still associate with Lila and keep her placated, that shouldn’t stop him from standing up and doing something when she started actively going after people the way she’d gone for Marinette.

He’d very quickly apologized to Marinette and started, if not scolding Lila when she targeted Marinette, at least trying to guide her and the rest of the class away from any interactions they might have initiated because of Lila’s words.

And now, even if the hours spent at Francois DuPont were chilly and quietly isolated for the three of them, they could meet up at the bakery for lunch, and more often than not now, they would spend evenings hanging out in either Chloé’s room or Marinette’s and it almost made up for it.

*****

Damian has been dead before.

He watches a girl in his class start screaming as the name splayed across her palm withers, it almost looks like it dissolved into her veins, the ink shrinking and bleeding into normal, unmarked skin.

He goes home and he looks at the long curling script that circles the right side of his chest, sweeping across his ribs. Marinette Dupain-Cheng exists somewhere and he wonders if dying once is enough that his name never showed up on her.

He searches the last names. He finds a small but well known and very well loved bakery in Paris, France, with mentions of the owners, Tom and Sabine, and one daughter.

He closes it out.

*****

Marinette turns 16.

It’s not momentous, as she once thought it would be. It’s another day facing the cold sneers of her classmates, catching Adrien and Chloé’s eyes and waiting until the end of the day when she can go home where her parents will have a cake waiting for her, Chloé, Adrien, Kagami, and Luka over, visits from Nadja and Manon, and hopefully some calls from her great uncle Wang and her pseudo uncle Jagged with Penny. Birthdays in this class used to be extravagant, and they still are- for everyone who Lila allowed it.

But Marinette’s birthday will be a quiet affair, at home with her family and her truest friends, her team, and she can’t help but prefer that.

*****

Damian turns 17. Dick marries Kori. Father and Catwoman continue their game of cat and mouse (who is what in this scenario?) and Todd keeps leaving and coming back, and Drake says nothing but acts as if he still knows everything. Damian is, in almost all ways, more capable than most of the old men that do business with Wayne Enterprises and he still has to sit through school and act like birthday parties matter or mean anything to him.

(They do. They do. He can count on one hand how many birthdays he’s ever actually celebrated.)

He’d like to know why he feels so unsatisfied.

*****

Ms. Bustier calls her aside when they break for lunch.

“Marinette,” she begins, and Marinette sighs internally, bracing for another round of upbeat admonishments.

“As class representative, I need you to start staying after class with me for the next few weeks at least- perhaps we can start tomorrow. The submission you made to the Wayne Enterprises Community Awareness and Support Program won, and we have to start planning for the trip in July.”

Marinette stops short. “Wait, trip?”

Mme. Bustier straightens her papers and selects one, handing it to Marinette. On it is a very formal letter from representatives of Wayne Enterprises, congratulating her and her class on their community outreach and outlining the award money they have been offered to plan their trip to visit Wayne Enterprises in person.

Marinette struggles not to sit there with her jaw dropped to the floor. “I didn’t realize there was any actual- reward. I thought it was just an award or recognition?”

Mme. Bustier gives her the smile she used to give her on a daily basis, back when Marinette had cared about making her teacher that happy with every success their class had. “Well, then it’s just as happy a surprise for you as for the rest of the class! I’ll send a note home with you tonight explaining why you’ll be staying after school for the foreseeable future. I won’t ever keep you longer than an hour.”

Marinette knew that would not be true, but it wasn’t as if she couldn’t make up an excuse to leave when necessary. “Yes. We’ll want the trip to be planned perfectly, especially if we’re going to Gotham. Thank you, Mme. Bustier!”

She skips out to lunch, runs across the street to the bakery to meet her friends and tells them the news.

*****

Damian thinks about her often, even if he doesn’t want to. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the baker’s daughter somewhere in Paris, presumably, who may or may not have his name somewhere scrawled on her body.

He doesn’t search anything about her again. Even that single search that led him to her parents’ patisserie was risky.

Jon can tell him everything he wants to about the happiness between himself and his soulmate. His siblings can tiptoe around the subject, happy themselves and never bringing it up to him again. He watches people at school, wondering which of the couples are bound by the words inked into their skin and which are the ones who decided to forego fate. It takes him a very long time to figure out that despite himself, despite his brothers and his allies and his few friends, he is lonely.

*****

Seven weeks before the trip to Gotham, Marinette’s mother finds the Miracle Box.

Marinette hasn’t had Master Fu to guide her in a very long time. She is, in name and deed, the true Guardian of the Miraculous now.

Marinette breaks down on her mother’s shoulder for the first time in four years, since Hawkmoth started terrorizing Paris. Sabine, terrified and proud and angry, soothes her daughter, holds her and runs her hand over her hair, and asks her daughter what she can do.

Marinette has an idea.

[sukirichi]

Hey bestie, so, here goes my rant about today’s chapter <3

OMG BESTIEEEEEE I feel proud of how you described the suit btw uwu <3, perfect description wink wink. LMAOOO WHY DO I READ VERA WANG INSTEAD OF VALERA RANG????

That scene with Geto?? It was short but deep, like wow, he truly knows Satoru like the palm of his hand. It really shows that he has been with Satoru through everything, I love it.

Omg even I want to be Valeria so badddd, but just in the business and successful aspect. Cuz she is the worst...

WHY WAS IT SO HOT WHEN Y/N STOOD AGAINST VALERIA HUH!??!?!?? It made me feel chills... [insert bite lip face]

GODDDDDD WHEN VALERIA SAID “Because I see myself in you,” I was like “BITCH...” I was so ready to throw hands ù-ú

I retract ALL OF THE GOOD THINGS I said about the Gojo parents in my last ask. I HATE them, I want them AWAY from the baby and I HOPE they drown in their greediness and fall into despair. LIKE AHHHHHHHHH MAMA GOJO WHAT WAS THE REASON?!?!?

WHY ARE RICH FAMILIES, more specific the parents, ALL ABOUT FUCKING IMAGE??????? MAMA GOJO GET READY CUZ IM ABOUT TO THROW HANDS AT YOUUUUUU

The contrast of her saying “As the mother of this household” instead of saying “as your mother” it’s quite powerful, it shows [at least for me] that mama Gojo only cared for raising a heir and not a son. And the “You have failed as a heir” only strengthens my statement, like woman!!! Get a grip!!! He is your son, not a doll for you to manipulate as you please for your own good!!!

“teeth sinking down onto his lower lip the more your face and smile planted itself in his heart” this part.... this part broke my heart so bad, I want to give Satoru a hug T-T

Bestie do you watch RuPaul's Drag Race? Cuz that sashayed away is ver sus wink wink.

NOT THE GENUINE SMILE BESTIE NOOOOOO.... I...I.. WHY WAS HE SO COLD HEARTED WHEN FIRING HERE T-T [like I know why but still] The way he was so technical and cold, that shit hurt like a bitch... Tbh I’m glad y/n slapped him <3

YOU HAVE ME IN TEARS LIKE ACTUAL TEARS, “You’re nothing to me” that shot burned so bad and the way y/n still said “This isn’t you, Satoru. You’re lying to me, you wouldn’t do this.” ONLY TO BE BACKED WITH THE YOU DONT KNOW ME CARD AHHHHHHHHH

“Because I finally opened my eyes,” this... this line right here just shattered me </3 and this “And now I’m just disgusted of everything that’s in front of me,” it was like you stumped over the shatters

“you promised.” I can’t believe I’m actually crying at this part again it’s just, it’s so frustrating as a reader to see both POV's and how they both are shattering apart. Y/N shattering in the outside and Satoru shattering in the inside.

“He couldn’t win. But you could. You would.” THE FACT THAT SATORU WILL ALWAYS HAVE FAITH IN Y/N CUZ HE JNOWS WHAT SHE IS CAPABLE OFF EVEN THROUGH THE MESS HE DRAGGED HER ALL THIS YEARS AND THROUGH THE RESENTMENT HE IS FORCING HER TO HAVE AGAINST HIM IS MINDBLOWING

And for the last part.... I’m SPEECHLESS ONCE AGAIN LIKE FUCKKKKKKKKK

Bestie, sorry for my long ass asks and I know they are getting longer within the chapters go by but ahhhhhh it’s just so good that I can’t help to do a comment about even the smallest thing, sorry T-T. Your talent is amazing as always and I send you many kithes <3

BESTIE IM SORRY I REPLIED LATE TO THIS BUT OMG THANKS SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭 no no thank YOU for the suit and outfit inspos they were so beautiful and really helped me picture Gojo 😭 plus you were the one who helped me describe their clothings so thank YOU for it 🥺 omg absmamaka people said valeria rang sounds like vera wang too 😂 yeah satosugu best buddies they’ve been with each other through the thick and thin and even in the time when [gunshot noises] bestie right??? even i find valeria sexy so it makes sense her daughter is sexier 😭

“i see myself in you” maam you left her wtf 😭✋🏻 gojo’s parents are not good for the baby. gojo’s parents are not good for gojo. gojo’s parents are not good for y/n. gojo’s parents are not good. well i mean,,,image is pretty important to them since the higher you are on a pedestal, the more drastic the fall. ALSO BESTIE YOU NOTICED THAT DETAIL WHERE MAMA GOJO SAID MOTHER OF THIS HOUSEHOLD AND NOT AS YOUR MOTHER? Omg wow thanks sm 😭😭😭 my dialogues are always intentional so I get so happy whenever someone picks up on it 😭 no omg gojo in that last scene was so 🤢😡💔 yeahhhh y/n is shattering on the inside and gojo on the outside but soon they’ll shatter everyone anyway so 🤷🏻‍♂️ and yes bestie BWMSKSKA THATS MY FAVORITE PART, THE TRUST AND CONFIDENCE HE HAS IN WHAT Y/N IS CAPABLE OF AAAAAAAA *flings myself out the window* and no no I don’t mind the long asks I appreciate all of this and thank you so much 🥺💕💕💕 THANK YOU FOR THE KITHES MWAH MWAH I HOPE YOU KNOW YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME HAPPY AND I LOVE YOUUU!!! 🥺💕💕💕

[ofyumis-blog]

howdy doody !! i’m nala ( she / her ) and this is my lil bub, yumi. she’s a revamped version of an older muse of mine that i haven’t had the opportunity to write in a loNg time, so i’m super excited to have her here. if you wanna plot, just tap that heart & i’ll come bug ya --- oK here we go !

important links: profile | pinterest | wanted connections.

DISPATCH: “who are you & what is one thing that people would know you for ?”

YUMI: hey; thanks for having me ! it’s such a pleasure to be here. anyway, to answer your question, i’m yumi, and i suppose i’m most well known for talking a lot ? i not only have a tendency to be very candid about things, but i’m pretty guilty of rambling, too. or it could be ... let’s sensor it and call it my “flirtatious” nature. society likes to shame women who embrace themselves, their bodies, their sexuality and libido. which is disgusting, if you ask me, but let’s move on. it’d be rude if i kept you here longer than necessary.

DISPATCH: “if there is one thing you could change about your career, what would it be ?”

YUMI: about my career ? i don’t think i’d change anything. sure, i’ve made mistakes along the way and i know i’ll continue to make them, but that’s how we grow. other than that, i know i’ve worked my ass off to continue moving up in the industry; doing everything i can to learn from those around me in order to perfect my craft. i’m proud of the things i’ve accomplished so far, and the times i’ve failed ... i wouldn’t change them for the world.

DISPATCH: “what are you willing to do to be in the top ten ?”

YUMI: that’s a good question, i’ve never really thought about it. yeah, i can be competitive, but i don’t ever want to become the kind of person who uses and / or steps on others in order to get ahead. all i can do is continue to work hard and be myself. if doing that gets me there, grand ! if it doesn’t, i don’t mind. i just want to show others that it’s okay to like what---and who---you like, to love and respect yourself. i want to inspire others to be creative and embrace who they truly are ... i don’t need to be in the top ten to do that.

KIM CHUNGHA. CISFEMALE. SHE / HER. ╱ ☆.｡.:* who is that on the charts? must be, AHN YUMI, the TWENTY-FOUR year old model. i heard they got their start in EARLY 2015 and one day hope to make a deal with VERA WANG. tmz said they can be VERBOSE and PROMISCUOUS, but their fans say they’re FORTHRIGHT and PHILOSOPHICAL. their fan accounts associate them with SILK DRESSES and WORN PAPERBACKS, and those seem to fit them pretty well. will they be at the top of the charts? let’s find out!

tw: brief mentions of death / car accident and abuse.

background info !

- born in seoul to two loving parents. as an only child, she was doted on a lot and life was amazing until she turned twelve ( 12 ) when she lost both parents in a horrible car accident.

- without having much time to grieve, yumi was shipped off to live with her maternal aunt in tennessee. that relationship wasn’t ... the greatest. yumi’s parents had always been supportive of her and encouraged her, but her aunt was the opposite. ( honestly, it was like she was cinderella and moved in with her evil step-mother ). her aunt loathed the attention yumi got from others and how she outshined her daughter and it wasn’t long before her aunt’s verbal abuse turned physical.

- yumi was silent about it for a year or so before it got so bad that she felt she needed to ask for help --- something which was totally out of character for the independent girl --- but it seemed ( to yumi ) that nobody wanted to help, so instead, she began lashing out. she talked back, she called her aunt out on her shit and she hoped that someone, anyone, would notice but again, help never came. not until she was sixteen, anyway.

- whilst “hanging” at the mall with her “family”, she was approached by a scout. of course, her aunt was adamant that yumi was nothing but a waste of time and space, so they should really be looking at her daughter instead, but the scout disagreed. in secret, she passed along her business card and the next day, yumi skipped school to meet with her.

- she spilled her guts about everything she had endured throughout her life since her parents’ passing and, because i don’t wanna bore you with any more details, the scout helped her get away. she was emancipated and took off to the city of dreams to begin working on her modeling career. she prepped herself and worked HARD for the next four years, eventually making her debut at age twenty ( 20 ).

headcanons !

let’s talk about her personality traits first and why i chose them ---

- verbose: using or expressed in more words than are needed. basically, yumi has a habit of rambling; a serious case of word vomit. especially when she gets started on a topic that elicits any sort of strong emotion from her, whether it be good or bad.

- promiscuous: having or characterized by many transient sexual relationships. as she slightly hints at in one of her interview questions, she’s known to have a relatively strong libido and she isn’t shy about it. with that being said, however, she refuses to have anything to do with someone who is already spoken for, even if they’re not exclusive with that person.

+ forthright: direct and outspoken; straightforward and honest. much to her manager’s dismay, she’s very open about ... well, practically everything. she talks about her experiences, her feelings, her beliefs and opinions, her desires and hopes for the future. she’s a big “what you see is what you get” kinda woman.

+ philosophical: having or showing a calm attitude towards disappointments or difficulties. granted, this more so rings true when said disappointments / difficulties are happening to her, considering she’s known to be super protective over others; including strangers. when it happens to her, tho, she’s known to just look at the situation, figure out a solution, proceed with said solution and move on. it’s hard for her to get stressed about things.

loves silk and lace. also, bodycon dresses & mini skirts --- yes pls. with a good heel, of course.

very flirtatious.

an uber gooey soft marshmallow who just wants to shower everyone with love and positivity.

does a LOT of charity work.

likes to read & play video games.

enjoys giving advice, talking to others & learning from them.

independent AF; would always prefer being the one who helps others, rather than the other way around.

doesn’t believe she’s the best person to be in the spotlight, given her personality.

sleeps with a stuffed owl because she needs to cuddle something, otherwise she can’t sleep.

LOVES the cold & hates being hot.

pansexual / panromantic.

... this has gotten way longer than i had wanted, so i’m just gonna leave it here. if you’ve read aNY of this ... ily more than life thank u <3333

[7wanderingpaws]

11. Epilogue

Genre: magic / soulmate AU

Pairing: Jackson x reader

Word count: 2.8K

Song: Shura - Whats It Gonna Be? (<3)

Synopsis: You are more than happy in relationship with Jackson Wang, the hard-working and successful fencer representing Hong Kong. So what happens when you visit a local witch wanting to know more about your future as a couple? Because you always knew he was the right one for you. Even in another life. But would he really be the one?

*** 1. // 2. // 3. // 4. // 5. // 6. // 7-1. // 7-2. // 8. // 9. // 10. // 11.

(( Wowzers! Its the final chapter already. Im quite speechless to be honest, because I grew fond of this story ever since the basic idea popped into my head and would bug me until I wrote the the first 2-3 chapters in one sitting. It was one of the most wonderful writing experiences. THANK YOU, endlessly THANK YOU for liking, commenting, reblogging and following. I wish I could throw my emotions to show you how much it means to me. I hope this last part will be enjoyable. Im a cheesy girl. On my blog things end well :) dont blame me. Let me know what your thoughts!! ))

Special thanks to MARAH <3 

- - - Epilogue - - -

San Jose, California, 2020

“Are you sure we are doing the right thing?” you asked anxiously as you drove up the uneven road on a very familiar street. “I mean, last time I was here when we were together, it didn’t end up well.”

“Yes, but that was when I wasn’t my absolute, upmost happiest on the entire planet,” answered Jackson, taking your hand in his to kiss your knuckles. His other hand was on the steering wheel, driving the rented car up the road.

“What if somebody will see us?” you muttered, growing smaller and smaller on the passenger seat. “We don’t need any more new rumours.”

Jackson chuckled as he let go of your hand, so he could push the car into reverse to park it in front of the house. “Babe, c’mon. We both know we couldn’t care less about those things. Besides, you work in Team Wang. You can do any possible step against those suckers if you wish so. I will always be by your side supporting you.” He was looking behind the seat to ensure he filled up the entire place. He turned around and winked at you. “I’m actually excited. Yay. Let’s go.”

You exited the car and hand in hand walked to the doors, ringing the doorbell.

“You only support me cause you would go down the drain with me as well if I wouldn’t do the necessary steps,” you commented again, not letting him go just yet.

“Sure, honey, whatever you say,” he laughed and pressed his lips to your temple.

You smiled, both of you knowing well you were just joking. 

When the doors opened, a familiar face of the old man appeared, his kind expression already inviting you inside. “Welcome! Please, do come in. Henrietta is will be finished with her customer-”

“Yes, we will wait, thank you,” you answered before he could finish, knowing the entire sentences all too well. 

Jackson gave you an amused look as you took a seat in the living room. The house was filled with wonderful, mouth-watering smell that was coming from the kitchen. The old man was just taking out a big stack of cookies out of the oven.

Gosh. No matter how many times you were here and relived everything again and again, nothing, and I repeat, nothing could come even close to this beautiful, harmonious smell that you were sniffing in that house. It was generous and maybe full of love; that’s why it was so good.

Jackson took a hold of your hand, his big eyes curiously scanning the surrounding. “What if she will say we are not meant to be and have to break up right in this very moment?” he quipped, his eyebrows just under his hairline. He looked so funny when he was trying to be fake-serious.

You. Loved. Him.

“Well, then we break up. I mean,” you shrugged, not bothered, “you have to listen to what the witch says, right?”

He was trying to maintain the serious face, but his facial features loosened up and one of the most breathtaking smiles spread across his face, his eyes wrinkly, his (cute) teeth out, his cheek-bones up. What a sight...

He leaned in to kiss you when the doors behind you opened. 

“Oh, I apologise for letting you wait, my clients are-” Henrietta stopped mid-sentence when you and Jackson stood up at her sudden entrance. You had Jackson’s hand tightly gripped in yours just above your tummy. You smiled. “Oh my goodness,” said Henrietta, lacing her fingers and bringing them to her chest. “What a beautiful couple are you! Please, do come in, do come in,” she said excitedly as she let you into her office.

Yes, the windows were still tinted, the room still harmonious and well-organised. It didn’t change one bit.

You took a seat opposite her chair, Jackson once again looking around with innocence.

Henrietta sighed as she sat down behind the long table, her cards neatly prepared. “I know you.”

“We know,” you smiled shyly, breaking Jackson’s hand in your tight grip. 

“I see you made it.” Henrietta’s face was pure bliss. Her eyes couldn’t stop looking at you and Jackson as both of you exchanged glances.

You lowered your head, having a hard time getting such affectionate glances from the witch. 

“Yes, we did make it,” Jackson said, his face also smiley and proud. “It wasn’t the easiest of the roads but here we are.”

Henrietta was nodding many times. “And why did you come all the way here? There is not much I can help you with.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, recovering from the heat in your cheeks. “We would like to hear your opinion now, in this current life, when Jackson is an artists, I’m an accountant, no fencing, no doctors, no ... nothing like before.”

“And that is exactly how it should be, my dear,” Henrietta replied, your heart jumping quickly. “Everything is as it should be now. There is no reason for you to worry whatsoever. You both evaporate happiness and satisfaction.”

You both nodded. 

“So how was Y/N like when she came here for the first time?” asked Jackson out of nowhere, a cheeky glint in his eyes.

Your eyes widened, giving his bicep a slap. “Excuse you.”

“She was just as beautiful as she was now,” Henrietta replied without any obstacles. “But do you mean in this life or the previous one?”

“This life. I want to know how she was like when she found out,” said Jackson honestly.

“She was freaking out a lot. Oh, you are missing that wonderful friend of yours, Sofia-”

“It’s Sara,” you and Jackson said at the same time.

“-Sara, yes, and she was like a lion, fighting to know what is the truth. I can understand that Y/N was frustrated with what was happening. There aren’t many situations like yours. Not everyone on this planet has their soulmate.”

“Soulmate?” you frowned. “That sounds a little bit crazy.”

“But that’s what you two are,” answered Henrietta, her voice suddenly deep and mysterious. “There are very few soulmates in this world and you seemed to find each other in both worlds. As soon as one of you would see the other, you would know there is some connection. Don’t be overexcited, not everyone has those feelings. Many people are with someone just for the sake of being in a relationship, to not feel alone. Your relationship is on a universe-level. It was always written in the stars. Either way, you were supposed to know each other and I’m truly happy I was able to experience this rare phenomenon.”

Well, that sounded like some museum-like text for a dinosaur. Processing her words was one thing. Living and actually making her words come true was a completely different thing. 

The two of you exchanged looks.

She was right.

The stars aligned.

You clicked.

Seoul, South Korea, 2026

“I swear I always get lost in this country,” you mumbled to yourself angrily. “No matter how many times, always, always, always,” you sighed desperately. So what if you were already above thirty. Thirty-year-old people get lost TOO!!! 

Except, it was 2am, the metro was closed, the buses were not in service anymore, there were barely any people and even if there were, you spoke as much Korean as you did Icelandic. Nothing. Zero. How did they say hi again? Annyogfkfosyf??? Yes, that could be.

Looking around, you tried to find a friendly face that could be of any help. Isu metro station was located on a massive crossroads surrounded by tall, modern office buildings. But there was not a single person who was kind enough to help a stranger out.

You tried English. “Excuse me!” 

Nope, they wouldn’t even look your way. Of course. This was not an English speaking country.

Before you could really start getting scared, you tried to stop a taxi. But the road being a big main road, there was almost zero chance they would pay any attention to you.

The reason why you were freaking out was simple: your phone was dead. No battery, no life, no hope, no reason to fight in this life anymore. If the phone gave up, the humanity could easily do so as well. This way, you couldn’t call Jackson.

“I’m gonna make both of us die,” you muttered to yourself unhappily, when another person completely ignored you.

“Excuse me, can you please help-”

“Hello, sorry, do you know how can-”

“Annyofabsfkjas,” you tried, exasperated, your tongue twisting and breaking. How on Earth did they say hi in Korean? Where is Jackson when you needed him? Why was your phone dead? Why were you even here?

People ignored you. And even walking a little bit couldn’t help, the city was too big and you were too small. “Shit.” Wiping a tear away, you tried your phone once again but, of course, it wasn’t working. “SHIT.”

You ran a little bit, your heels clicking on the pavement. Reaching out your hand, a taxi must stop for you. There was no way one damn taxi wouldn’t stop for you.

A little cry escaped your lips. “Please.”

Just then, there was a sports car speeding up on the road and it abruptly stopped right in front of you, its brakes and wheels screeching loudly, making you flinch. This was it. This was when they would steal you and murder you for organs.

The door for passenger seat opened. “Get in.”

The voice was strict, but there was no hesitation as you swiftly got into the car.

“Are you crazy?” Jackson was angry, his eyes sending daggers your way. His left hand was on the steering wheel as his whole body was turned towards you. The door was closing itself.

“I’m sorry, you know I always get lost and my phone was dead-”

“You are pregnant, Y/N,” he snapped, worry written all over his manly face. “It’s dangerous for you to be out at this time all by yourself.”

You sighed, already tired. “But you found me,” you said, gently reaching out for his hand. “You found me. Just like you always do.”

Jackson’s features softened, his anger dissipating slowly but surely. He gave out a deep sigh. “I was so worried about you.”

“I was worried about myself too, thanks,” you laughed, touching his cheek.

He smiled and turned to fasten his seatbelt again.

“Jack?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m hungry.”

He gave out a breathy laugh. “Of course you are. It’s freaking 2am. Your pregnant-self loves to eat at this convenient time.”

“Well, lucky me that we are in Korea where the deliveries are non-stop working,” you winked at him and looked out the window.

He grabbed your thigh with a lustful squeeze but his eyes were trained on the road. “Damn, and how much I love that you are here with me.”

And by the time you arrived at your apartment that you owned in Seoul, the black-bean noodles have arrived, warm and fresh. You devoured it all, and still managed to swallow sour pickles.

“Your appetite,” commented Jackson tiredly. He wouldn’t go to bed without you. No, never. He was over that part of his job. He was now his own boss, working on many projects, attending many galas with you by his side as his wife of 6 years.

Oh. The wedding!

Your wedding.

The wedding of you and Jackson.

The time when Jackson married you.

The time when you married Jackson.

That day...

... was one of the most watched weddings of the century. 

So what if William took Kate? And Harry took Meghan? Nick took Priyanka?

Jackson Wang took you. And many watched. Many supported.

A superstar is taking a normal, ordinary person that is not part of the entertainment industry. You were just a normal person, breathing oxygen like others, shining in different directions that the other artists. You had a soulmate. You had Jackson.

This is how you became one of the biggest searches on Google and Naver. Who were you? What were you? They wanted to know everything.

Everybody wanted to know the woman who was smiling brightly as she was walking down the aisle, the only person she could ever imagine her future with waiting on the other side having a squirtle look and still looking so handsome, so lovable, so kind, so Jackson.

The other special thing was, that you didn’t have a massive wedding. Yes, Jackson wanted to have half of the world present to see his happiness, but he still listened to you. It made you uncomfortable to be in front of so many people. You wanted close family and great friends surrounding you.

So he did it that way.

And the wedding night was even more special than the entire day filled with flowers, good food, lots of laughing and dancing till the early morning.

Jackson was still spinning with you in your hotel room, dancing to music, both of you tipsy with love for each other. 

There was no gentle and slow love-making. There was no wild and crazy sex.

No.

You cuddled up, shared a wonderful, passionate kiss and while you were silently giggling into each other’s mouths, whispering stories from your wedding day, how someone would trip and fall, how some people interacted, you just kept giggling and smiling, both of your eyes still shiny even in the darkness of the room, you slowly drifted into peaceful sleep, Jackson’s arms around you, your front pressed against his chest as his chin rested on the top of your head.

Both of you had comfy pyjamas on, make-up removed and teeth washed.

You decided you would not have children until you reached a certain age. During that time, you would enjoy your freedom. You followed Jackson almost everywhere, you would sneak out, be silly, you would make decisions together that would benefit for both of you. 

Of course, there were fights. What kind of relationship didn’t have fights? They could be cruel at times, but neither of you ever meant it. There was safety around both of you. 

You were guaranteed for each other...

...

... until this guarantee was broken years later when your water broke. Thankfully, you were in Hong Kong where you always planned to give birth to your children. Jackson made sure he didn’t have any plans that included travelling too far from Hong Kong as he wanted to be present in the hospital.

And now, it was three years since your guarantee for each other was made more flexible and had to cover also twins that were born. Plus-

“Jackson,” you said as you came out of the toilet. Jackson was lying on the floor, one twin - Sofia (after Jackson’s mother) - on top of his chest, the other twin - William (after nobody in particular) - was at his feet, trying to take his sock off.

He looked up at you questioningly trying to hold Sofia so she wouldn’t hurt herself. “What is it, baby?”

“It’s happening again,” you muttered, trying to look nonchalant around kids.

“Daddy was talking to meeee!” wailed Sofia again. “He calls ME BABY!!!”

William was always the quieter one. Definitely your genes.

“Happening what?” he asked and swiftly grabbed giggling Sofia, putting her down so he could stand up and walk over to you.

As you were standing on the doorstep to the bathroom, he supported his hand on the wall next to your head as he leaned in. 

“I’m pregnant.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, not that surprised. After all, you were making these “mistakes” in the bed very willingly and happily. Slowly, one corner of his mouth lifted, his dad face long gone and his flirty face in the game. “Are you now?”

You shot a quick glance to the kids who were oblivious to you. You nodded as your eyes dropped to his lips. He licked them.

“You are freaking awesome,” he mumbled and kissed you, pushing his tongue right in, startling you.

You tried to suppress your moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You are responsible for it, though,” you breathed, capturing his lips again.

He grumbled, pushing you inside the bathroom, making you walk backwards. “We will be right with you, don’t be mean to each other!” he shouted towards the twins before slamming the bathroom door shut as you giggled loudly. He quietened you right away with his passionate lips, his hands all over your body as he pressed you to the wall. “I always wanted three kids.”

“Well, what if it’s another pair of kids?” you asked.

“Then I say it’s a happy life too,” he laughed pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and gave him a chaste kiss before you mumbled with your lips and tip of your nose pressed to his cheek. “And I love you.”

<3 <3 <3

[theuniversitychallengereview]

Episode 1 - Edinburgh vs Ulster

Do bookmarks get dusty if you don’t click on them for a long time? Having neglected the link to this tumblr page during these months of quizless wilderness I was a bit worried that I’d have to hack through a cobwebbed corridor of dingy darkness to get back to my writing station. It did take a while to load, but that was probably just due to the dodgy broadband connection. So I guess the internet is immune to the quirks and limitations of the physical world. Which is useful, because after nearly one hundred days without The Challenge taunting and titillating us in equal measure it hath returned, and I have me a blog to rustle up.

Season forty six, hereinafter referred to as The Year of Monkman, produced some of the great protagonists of the Paxman Era. Delighting millions along with the aforementioned foghorn and a supporting cast of eclectic intellectuals, were his best pal Bobby Seagull, the Balliol Captain and Sassmaster General Joey Goldman, and Warwick’s excitable Sophie Rudd, It was also a year in which The Challenge continued its transformation into one of the bedrocks of contemporary British meme culture.

It has always been one of the Great Institutions of this proud nation, but, to reference another, maybe its not always been everyone’s cup of tea. Thats not to say it is now, but the past few years have seen it make a subtle shift into the mainstream consciousness. Beginning with Gail ‘15 starters’ Trimble and the Original Playboy of Quiz, Alex Guttenplan at the turn of the decade, and culminating in the past few years with the likes of Monkman, Hannah ‘The Eyebrow’ Woods, Oscar, ‘The Gurner’ Powell, and I’ll say this only once, Theodore ‘Hapax Legomenon’ Loveday, the show has ridden the crest of the wave into the Age of the Hashtag (if you’re still getting the hang of me, you’ll have noticed that I like giving Grand Titles to everyone and everything). 

A few years ago I was tweeting into the void about The Challenge. Maybe I’d get a favourite (yes, I still call them favourites, and anyone who questions me will be swiftly excommunicated from this page) every once in a while, if it was the Final, and I remember maybe breaking double digits in Facebook likes for totally flipping out about a Manchester comeback circa 2012, but it was a mostly lonely existence, kind of like how it must be for someone who still hasn’t watched Game of Thrones.

However you can now buy cushions with Monkman’s face on, and Bobby Seagull mugs. After the final was broadcast the two of them bromanced their way through enough television and radio appearances to keep Nigel Farage’s ego satisfied, and Lord Legomenon taught Joey Essex maths on ITV2 last year. Twitter hysteria hasn’t quite reached Love Island levels yet, but its plodding slowly on its way. I guess what I’m trying to say, completely earnestly and with no hint of irony, is that University Challenge is the new haunt of the rock star.

Hoping to put the “character” in “140 characters” (and probably answer some questions about books and stuff, because thats what we’re actually here for, right? Not this endless posturing) were freshly plucked quartets from the Universities of Edinburgh and Ulster.

Edinburgh, powered by the encyclopaedic engine known only as the Aberdeen Machine (and also Euan), reached the semi finals last year, their best performance since 2002. Ulster, according to the Belfast Telegraph, have never appeared on the show, and the Belfast Telegraph would be right if we only included the Paxman Years. The Blanchflower Archive of the Gascoigne Era however, shows us that they made it to round one on at least two occasions in the 70s and 80s. So their team, the oldest in the competition, may even have seen them live back in the day.

Paxman throws them an easy question to open the series, with both teams flapping for far too long before Ulster’s Jack swoops in, taking the first starter of the year with a late buzz on ‘wingspan’ (two bird puns for the price of one there, but seriously, what else do albatrosses do apart from have massive arms? Get it together, folks). The Northern Irelanders strike a double on the first bonus set and stroll into a twenty point lead.

He takes the second Ten too and Edinburgh are looking a bit sluggish, as Ulster take a single on the Shakespeare bonuses that the producers managed to hold off on for approximately four minutes. Stanley Wang gets Auld Reekie in the game, before a neg with an optimistic guess of ‘The Last Supper’ based on the prompts of ‘a meal’ and ‘the bible’ steals back five of his hard earned points - sometimes those reckless leaps work, sometimes they don’t, such is the way of this ruthless world.

Jack grabs a few more in what was fast becoming a one man show for the old guard. But Wang and Heaton-Armstrong trade returning blows with the pharmacist for the Scots, and eventually manage to squeeze into a lead which is immediately snatched back. Captain Carson decides at this point that he’s had enough of being overshadowed by his opposing number and throws out ‘tachycardia’ to take the impetus back with a nonchalant derision that indicates he’d been hoping to join the contest at a more difficult stage, like the gold medal favourite for the high jump. 

He looks relaxed in his tried and tested Edinburgh University Brass Band t-shirt (this isn’t a random remark, I’ve seen him answer many questions in that very same fabric), and his calmness guides his team over the line, though a few seconds more and Ulster might have pipped them, as Milliken chipped in with a Ten just as the gong crashed on a Five Point Game.

Final Score: Edinburgh 165 - 160 Ulster

A solid performance after a slightly nervy start from last years semi finalists, and unlucky for Ulster, who will likely return for at least one more appearance of the Paxman era in the repechage. The Challenge hath well and truly returned, and I for one am jolly well loving it. Thank you all for reading.

[deliriousscenarios]

Got7 Hogwarts Houses

After much procrastinating on my part, I've finally gotten around to getting this done. Honestly, I needed a distraction and this helped immensely. To the anon who asked for this so long ago, if you're still here and waiting, I'm sorry it's taken me forever to get around to it. I hope it isn't just a huge disappointment, and obviously, this is just my opinion. It's all subjective, and if anyone feels differently, I'd be interested in knowing what houses anyone would've put them in instead ^^ Here goes nothing...

Mr Bravado - SLYTHERIN - I'm gonna be honest, Leader was actually a really hard one for me to house. As much as my brain has been screaming Slytherin, it's also been side eyeing Gryffindor too. Still, he just has so many Slytherin traits it's hard not to place him here. Our Leader is known for his sharp tongue, his pride and his confidence, as well as his cunning. As Jinyoung has said before, you can't get anything past him. I would like to add, as confident as Jaebum can be, he still has his shy and clumsy moments, as do most Slytherins. We're far from as suave as we'd like the world to believe we are, I can assure you. Our leader is very ambitious, and has a sense of determination not just to be the best he can possibly be for himself but also for Got7, he is proud to be their leader and assertive in his role. They are his family and mean a lot to him, and family is definitely a huge deal to most Slytherins. On the flip side, Jaebum is a sore loser, and somewhat an ungracious winner. He can be a little intimidating sometimes, and can come across cold and standoffish when he wants. He is about respect and seems to take hierarchy incredibly seriously. Respect means a lot to him, and is something he wants to both give and receive, and will not be afraid to put his little brothers in their place if they don't respect him. Discipline, love, determination, ambition, and a strong sense of brotherhood are what make Jaebum a Slytherin to me, along with his sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Leader, in my opinion, is just a take no prisoners kind of guy (unless your name is either Jackson Wang or Choi Youngjae, wtf?!)

Silence is Golden - RAVENCLAW (but also maybe Gryffindor) - Why was Tuan so goddamn hard for me to house?! Honestly, I've struggled with him and Yugyeom the most, wtf? Due to Mark's incredibly playful and teasing side, a big part of me wanted to put him in Gryffindor, and I'm finding it a little difficult to explain why exactly it is I settled on Ravenclaw instead. Okay, so we all know Mark is a pretty quiet guy, right? And though I do think Mark is shy to an extent, I don't think that's why Mark doesn't talk often. I wish I could find it to reference it now, but anyway, I remember reading something once a while back, where someone asked him why he doesn't speak a lot, and Tuan basically said it's because he doesn't wanna be misunderstood and with so many people watching or listening, he's worried that will happen easily. Mark strikes me as someone who is quite wise and actually a deep thinker. I also think it's difficult for him to get a word in edge ways sometimes, and I think most of the time, Tuan is happy to either go with the flow of everyone else, or simply be on his own. Now, that right there is the main reason I haven't put Mark in Gryffindor. Gryff's are big peoples people, they like spending time with others, and many likely prefer it. As much as I believe Mark loves the guys, I also believe Mark likes time to himself and being away from them too. This isn't a bad thing at all, I think Mark just finds it all a bit much sometimes (or I could be completely wrong, wtf do I know?) but this doesn't strike me as Gryffindor trait. I dunno, I really can't decide with Mark, so overall, I'm gonna say Ravenclaw with Gryffindor tendencies ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Extreme Bluff - HUFFLEPUFF or GRYFFINDOR - I've gotta admit I find it quite hard to pick for Jackson too. A big part of me wants to say a Puff but than there are some traits of his that make me steer towards Gryff. The Hufflepuff in Jackson is optimistic in times of trial, caring and unafraid to show it, lives to express himself and expects others to do the same, loyal to a fault, open minded and accepting of all others. The Gryff in him is competitive to a fault, full of showmanship, wants to please everyone and prove himself to the world. With Jackson, what you see is what you get, he wears his heart on his sleeve and he isn't afraid to tell you how he feels. He can put his foot in his mouth sometimes, but with Wang the intention is always pure, no harm is ever truly meant. Jackson possesses all the upbeat positive traits of the Hufflepuff House, along with many of Gryffindors. All in all Jackson Wang is a great guy and his heart is made of pure gold. Also, I reckon Jackson is one of those students who would end up just telling the Shorting Hat exactly where he wanted to go anyway.

The Real JYP - SLYTHERIN - Okay, I did hesitate over Ravenclaw for a second, and then I was like, "really, Sea? Really?" Good lord above, we all adore him for it, but my god is this guy a catty bitch when he wants to be. Jinyoung is never afraid to put anyone in their place no matter who they are. I mean, how much do we bet that after his first two debut hairstyles, Jinyoung decided enough was enough and put a kibosh on that! I mean, come on, the dude has reclaimed his name from JYP. I'd say that's a very self assured, take what I want when I want it, I'm the boss of me, Slytherin attitude to have. Slytherins are not advocates of playing fair, nor do they run from confrontation. They're not gonna apologise for it either, and that just strikes me as so Jinyoung. With Jinyoung it's all playful, he just likes teasing his little brothers but when push comes to shove Jinyoung is all for his brotherhood, he'll just do it with a flare of sass to liven things up a bit. After all, screen time is very important to him, important enough to drench his teammate with a water gun, and ruin his hair in the process. (Can I just say now, I fucking love Jinyoung for that. Mark did not see that coming. Poor Tuan. But of course, he took it like a champ.)

Mini Bravado - HUFFLEPUFF - Honestly, how could I put this little muffin anywhere else? I think Youngjae is too pure for even Hufflepuff tbh, but it's the purest house in many ways in my opinion and it's probably the only one I can see Youngjae in. Youngjae is the literal embodiment of innocence, and sunshine, and honestly, him and Hobi are a blessing on this earth I could gush over all day! Youngjae has his sassy moments yes, but what Puff doesn't? Our otter also strikes me as being someone who likes the comfort of home, though that won't stop him from going on adventures. It's just home is where the heart is, and I think Youngjae's heart is with his family, Got7 and Ahgases. Honestly, I read on this Hogwarts House trait thing that Hufflepuffs are a lot like Hobbits, and I kind of really agree with that. They like food, family, home and peace, but the odd few don't mind throwing in a little adventure every now and then. At least that's the sort of Hufflepuff Hobbit I think Youngjae is. The work hard for what you want in life, always be loyal, and always be the best you that you can be Hufflepuff.

Kunpimook Bhuwakul - SLYTHERIN - Of all the members I can honestly say, BamBam was the easiest for me to house (then Jinyoung). Bam is a Slytherin to the core, and as much as I love him to my core, it ain't necessarily our best traits that Bam embodies. Now, if you know me, you know I see no problem with vanity, so when I say Bam is as vain as they come, please know I don't mean it as an insult. Bam just has a level of self confidence I think we all should aspire too, but sometimes it can come across a little arrogant, and that's when BamBam's inner Slytherin rears its styled within an inch to perfection head. Remember that interview they did with The Show during the If You Do era, and the interviewer asked BamBam to give examples of how well Bam can brag and one of the things Bam said when the guys were teasing him about how someone was paying for all the luxuries behind the scenes, was "no, I earned this myself!" Or something along those lines, and Jackson pointed out how Bam had just neglected to include Got7 in that and taken the credit himself? It was clearly a joke and they were only teasing him, but it's little things like that, that show BamBam as a Slytherin to me. He works hard, and he ain't afraid to get the credit he deserves, even if that means accidentally overlooking his teammates sometimes. I'd just like to stress, I do not mean any of this in a bad way whatsoever, not only am I a Slytherin myself, I also adore BamBam and I don't think Bam is ever doing anything with negative or horrible intentions. He just can't help being a little up his own ass sometimes, but I mean, can we really blame him? BamBam is amazing.

Giant Maknae - HUFFLEPUFF - I honestly think that out of all of them, Gyeom could've slipped easily into any of the houses. The main reason I would place him in Hufflepuff though, is because of how important Got7 is to Yugyeom. Whenever there's the first signs of conflict in their group, Gyeom immediately starts to panic about their future. That's what's most important to him, and though Puffs aren't afraid of conflict, they will throw their pride aside if it means protecting their family unit. This is something Yugyeom never hesitates to do. He might stand up for himself at first, but as soon as things turn sour for the family, Gyeom will take the blame and try to fix it. This is a huge Hufflepuff trait. They are also hardworking and loyal, which we all know Yugyeom is. You don't get that amazing at dancing without practicing your arse off day in and day out. Though Puffs aren't universally known for being big risk takers, they will play with chance every now and again, and I think both Yugyeom and Youngjae embody that characteristic well. Though I think that's only to an extent. For instance, and I don't mean this in a bad way, but I don't think either of them would've willingly put their names in the Goblet of Fire. Not to say their awesome arses wouldn't've been chosen if say, someone did, I just think that like Harry, they wouldn't've been happy about it.

♡

[gudlyf]

Elephant in the Room [Short Story]

Upon reading this, you may find it pretty apparent that comedy is not my thing. I was pretty pleased with what I came up with, but nameless outside commentary thus far as been along the lines of, “hopefully you won’t get comedy next time.” Ouch.

This year’s NYCMidnight Short Story competition is huge: over 4000 participants. My prompts for this first (and perhaps, for me, final) round:

Comedy/Recycling/A teaching assistant Word limit: 2500 words Time limit: 8 days

Junior Science Officer Log — Dr. Donald Gobold, PhD

January 8, 2127 12:42 UTC

After 172 days aboard the STS Clarity, keeping this log is all that’s kept me from gouging my own eyes out.

Commander Trenchard’s had it with Tsou. It’s abundantly clear Boyle has had enough of Trenchard. And everyone is done with Maslov.

Me? I’ve had it with myself. If I don’t find something useful to do out here soon, I swear the nearest pencil has my eye’s name on it.

There were few things in the world that Dr. Donald Golbold was particularly proud of, and this was one of them. Perhaps it was because he was, after all, no longer physically on the actual world anymore. The world being the planet Earth, that is.

Assistant Professor Donald Gobold, aide to none other than the one and only Dr. Michael Archibald Neale, the once department head of the Aeronautics program at MIT and a most renowned and admired expert in the field of absurdly-large, space-faring, metallic canisters. And, as of this very moment, deathly ill.

Assistant Professor Donald Gobold, an unassuming man with, despite the somewhat well-earned PhD credentials, the equally unassuming job of grading papers for undergraduate underlings and generally carrying on as the almighty Dr. Neale’s secretary, chauffeur, butler, and deliverer of dry cleaning.

Yet here was Earthling Donald, soon to be Martian, not quite selected but semi-, quasi-selected, runner-up style for a mission like no other because, though there had been several dozen missions to Colony Experience before, this one included Donald.

It seemed the PhD was something to be proud of after all, as somewhat well-earned as it was. The Bachelor’s in History, on the other hand, hadn’t quite paid off yet.

Space Transportation System Clarity was one of three NASA vessels used for conducting resupply operations for Martian colonies Experience and Plymouth. The other two vessels remained dry-docked in preparation for becoming “reclassified.” In this sense it meant they were simply due to conform to the administration’s new naming regulations. These regulations came as a result of countless embarrassing publicity spots depicting the ships and their unfortunate shape, passing through one of the massive oval rings of Station Delta, bearing the line, “Entering A Whole New World.” They were to become the last in a line of ships of the past decade named for their architects. Clarity had already undergone its transformation; like the STS Cox, STS Hardick and STS Wang were soon to be made “classy.”

Originally tasked to the illustrious, one and only Dr. Michael Archibald Neale, PhD, Donald had at the last hour been called to take over the role of Science Officer for the mission. This particular role owned a very important job, one to be carried out each day of the ship’s year-long voyage, without exception: stay completely out of everyone’s way. It was considered overtime work if he’d become utterly invisible, and grounds for a commendation if he were to leave the ship entirely.

A Science Officer was useful on Mars, most certainly not aboard an unfortunately-shaped freight train, carting farming supplies through space.

Presently, Donald was doing a most excellent job of isolating himself within his personal sleeping domicile, spending one third of his time pondering how many times per minute the monitor above the bunk chimed, another third feeling sorry for himself, flustered at their need to add “Junior” to his title, and the last third wondering when, if ever, his renowned mentor had warned him that he was allergic to shellfish.

A loud bit of clatter interrupted Donald’s count of monitor chimes. Not the usual cacophony that frequently rang throughout the interior of the ship when Maslov was rummaging about for lord-knows-what in the medical supply room, but a sound akin to pebbles tossed upon a metallic roof. Outside the Clarity.

The ship was passing through an asteroid field.

As long as it doesn’t pass through us, was Donald’s next thought. He felt himself clever for that. That is until his clever thought, the monitor chimes, and the rattle of rocks upon an enormous tin can were interrupted by a rather large, reverberating, disturbing crash.

All at once, a klaxon rang out, along with the footfalls of the crew, minus Donald’s. A hiss and a roar of air passed over him whilst distant doors slammed shut. Within several seconds the alarm was silenced, irritated voices exchanged foul words, and directly outside Donald’s exterior window appeared a very large cloud of snow.

Above anything else happening in and around that very moment, the sight outside the window concerned Donald the most. Not the reverberating crash, nor the resulting concerned shouts of Tsou and Trenchard echoing throughout the ship, nor Maslov as he now loomed within Donald’s open doorway with a scalpel in a bloodied hand.

“Professor. Come.” Maslov was oftentimes a man of few words.

“Have you had a look outside?” Donald asked. “That’s not good, you know. It means we’re leaking water. Lots of it. Into space, Doctor.”

The Medical Officer grunted.

“That’s very bad. It means we’re- Is that blood?”

“Yes. Tsou was injured. An unsecured pencil penetrated her left shoulder as it flew toward the breach.”

Donald’s mouth fell open. Maslov’s eyes became slits.

“Look here. Just because I like to write my log in pencil out here doesn’t mean it was my pencil. Besides, mine are all very dull. I’ve been writing lots, you know. It’s all I get to do in this godforsaken place. A pencil would have to be very, very sharp — very sharp! — to hurt anyone like that.”

Maslov’s lips pursed to match his eyes.

“It must’ve been someone else’s pencil,” said Donald, in a tad above a whisper, with a touch of uncertainty.

“Come,” Maslov repeated. “We have important meeting.”

He turned and, without a backwards glance, pointed to the floor. “Watch your step on your other pencils.”

The crew minus pilot Sarah Boyle conglomerated about the solitary mess hall table.

“About six,” said Commander Trenchard. “Six Earth days and we all may likely succumb to severe dehydration, give or take a day.”

“So that is it?” Tsou asked. As was usual for the young Payload Specialist, it was difficult to tell if she was angry at the news she’d received or truly confused beyond the formation of full sentences.

“Succumb. Die?”

“Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said the Commander. “There are lots of things to consider. Main communication’s down, but we were able to release a distress beacon. The nearest outpost is seventeen days from here, so it could be worse.”

Maslov slammed a fist onto the table, a fist that for some unknown reason still kept tight hold of the scalpel. Still, the others refused to pay it much mind. After spending over one-hundred days with the medic, this had become normal behavior.

“Worse? It cannot be worse. We’ve lost entirety of our water supply to space! We must drink or die!”

“You’re quoting your t-shirts again, Maslov,” Trenchard quipped.

The others murmured their agreement. Donald cleared his throat.

The murmuring stopped. Tsou rubbed her bandaged shoulder. A monitor chimed.

“It … depends,” Donald said within the issuing silence.

“Oh yes, Professor?” Trenchard asked. “On what, exactly, may I ask?”

“On several factors. Such as how long ago one drank something. One’s body weight and body fat can also make a difference.”

Donald became acutely aware of three pairs of eyes descending upon his rather generous midriff.

“Hey, now-”

“Well!” interrupted Maslov, again dropping his blade-gripping fist onto the table. “It looks as though we should be promoting the professor to pilot! He shall be the last of us alive!”

The murmurs of agreement commenced as their eyes remained fixed on Donald’s pot.

“I am feeling very thirsty,” Tsou said.

Trenchard dipped his head. “We’ve been without water for twenty minutes, Lian. You are not thirsty. This conversation has gone to your head.”

The voice of Pilot Boyle chimed in from the cockpit intercom.

“Commander? Could y’all get off your behind and bring me some water? I’m parched.”

All eyes turned from the intercom to Maslov. Then to Donald.

“Stop that! Nobody is making me pilot!” Donald shouted as he stood. “We don’t have to die. There’s something else we can do.”

In June of 2115, Donald Gobold, then pre-PhD and pre-passenger-to-Mars, graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in History. Truth be told, he’d succeeded in the endeavor by the mere skin of his teeth. History hadn’t ever been his calling, something he’d learned very early on in his stints of extended education but had lacked the nerve to do anything about. His saving grace had been a well-detailed and researched final project on one very particular subject of past space technology. And space technology, he’d quickly come to realize, was where his heart truly lie.

What strings there were, he pulled. What money he had, he spent. And what work there was to do, he quite simply did his best to avoid. At all of this, Donald excelled, and what it got him was Aeronautics and MIT, much to the shock of everyone who knew of his past foray into the world of higher education.

But history was now history. Donald’s life became about learning and teaching the complex technologies that bring human beings among the stars in absurdly-large, space-faring, metallic canisters. It was a calling he only wished he’d sooner realized.

Though those earlier years weren’t entirely a waste of time. No one would have thought, least of all Donald, that his undergraduate history project could potentially one day save lives.

Within Donald’s mind, “Number One: A History of Whizzing Through Space,” was about to resurface.

“I am no longer thirsty,” said Tsou.

“You expect us to drink … what?” Trenchard asked.

“It is good idea,” said Maslov, getting to his feet. “Here, I will make some for Boyle now.”

“Whoa, now!” said Boyle. She’d since joined the group once the water she’d called for hadn’t materialized. “Keep your pants on, Doc. I ain’t ever gonna be that desperate.”

Maslov shrugged and left the room.

“I didn’t mean that literally,” explained Donald. “I meant we recycle it first, not drink it straight out of the tap.”

“Recycle. Urine,” Tsou stated, again demonstrating her keen skill of observation most succinctly.

“Yes, right. Recycle. You remove the urea from urine and what you’re essentially left with is water. People, this is how they did it in the early days of space travel. We’ve already got equipment on-board Clarity to do it.”

“Early days?” Trenchard said. “If I remember correctly, Professor, you’re talking about what was done over a century ago. It’s something the old Moon colonies sometimes do, but that’s purely for irrigation. Today’s STS technology is far from so crude. We have hydrogen-oxygen generators for that task.”

“I suppose you mean the same generators that froze up when the hull was breached?” asked Donald. “Along with what potable water they’d generated for the past three months?”

Boyle crossed her arms, defiant. “Well I ain’t drinking no water that came from, y’know, your, uh …”

“Penis,” Tsou finished.

“Whatever y’all wanna call it.”

Once again, murmurings of agreement.

“Now hold on,” Donald broke in. “This is proven science. I’ve done all the research there is on the subject, trust me.”

“All the research on pee rejuvenation?” Trenchard confirmed.

“Recycling! Yes. We likely don’t have much to work with, but it might get us through seventeen days.”

“At least,” Trenchard said. “Judging by several certain factors. Am I right, Professor?”

Eyes again downward, on Donald.

“Can we all stop pontificating here and actually do something about our situation? You can’t mean to tell me you’d rather die out here of dehydration than cast aside your own absurd sense of dignity?”

More murmurings, though spattered with a sense of uncertainty. Maslov reentered and fell into an empty chair.

“I have a question,” said Tsou. “Whose … urine will we all drink?”

“Not urine. Water. But essentially it would all get mixed in together,” Donald explained. “So from everyone, I guess.”

“Not from me,” said Maslov.

“Not yours?” asked Trenchard. “Well why the bloody hell not? Afraid we’ll get drunk off it, do you?”

Maslov shrugged. “Boyle said she did not need my pee, so I pee in waste extractor. It is more snow in space now.”

Groans all around.

“Alright, listen! No more pissing into the extractor, people,” Trenchard demanded. “Is that understood?”

More groans, Maslov excluded.

“Excuse me,” Tsou started. “What if I have to go …” She trailed off, blushing.

“Yes?” Trenchard pressed.

“Drop a deuce, Commander,” Boyle finished.

Several nodded in comprehension. Trenchard let his face fall into his hands.

“Oh for Pete’s sake. Of course you can … drop a deuce. Just no overboard urination. Everyone got that?”

“Sometimes you can’t help it, Commander,” confessed Boyle. “Just sorta comes on out.”

“Well then you bloody well do your best.”

“What if we run out of food rations?” asked Maslov.

It was Trenchard’s turn to beat on the table.

“Food rations? Are you suggesting we recycle your fecal excrement next, Doctor? Is that it?”

Maslov shook his head. “Nyet, Commander. Not mine. Is in space with snow.”

Satisfied, Tsou exited the room.

Donald spoke before the diatribe could continue. “It sounds as though the commander has decided the best course of action. We should begin collecting urine in containers left in the lavatory. Meanwhile, I’ll prepare the recycling unit by reusing some of the backup gear and supplies from the stock room. Are we all in agreement? Commander?”

Trenchard scanned the other faces in the room, then nodded in defeat.

“Boyle?”

“I’ve guzzled worse stuff in my life, so what’s a few squirts from you fellas? Yeah, I’m in.”

“Doctor?”

“Da.”

Donald leaned back, satisfied. He was actually doing something beyond logging misery into a journal. For once he felt useful aboard Clarity. By God, he was saving their very lives.

“Everyone! Look what I have found!”

It was Tsou. She’d staggered into the room, carrying a full, sloshing bucket.

“Lian!” Trenchard protested. “Don’t bring it in here! Leave it in the lavatory, for God’s sake!”

“No. You do not understand. This is water! From our payload to Mars. There is so much of it. We are safe!”

Everyone snapped to their feet. Indeed, the young specialist’s bucket was full of crystal-clear water.

“Thank. God. I’ll call off the distress beacon,” said Trenchard with delight. “Crisis averted, people! Drink up!”

As the others cheered, Donald eyed a pencil that had embedded itself in a wall. Dejected, he wrenched it out and left for his bunk.

NASA POST-FLIGHT PAYLOAD LOG — STS CLARITY

2127-OCTOBER-18 03:05 UTC

PRESENT PAYLOAD: ~100 T. FARMING SUPPLIES (VARIOUS)

ABSENT PAYLOAD: ~172 GAL. IRRIGATION WATER (RECYCLED ELEPHANT URINE)

[7wanderingpaws]

5. The Desire. (Another Life)

Genre: soulmate/magic AU

Pairing: Jackson x reader

Word count: 2.6K

Songs: All India Radio - Lo Fi Groovy, Bien - The Best Part

Synopsis: You are more than happy in relationship with Jackson Wang, the hard-working and successful fencer representing Hong Kong. So what happens when you visit a local witch wanting to know more about your future as a couple?Because you always knew he was the right one for you. Even in another life. But would he really be the one?

((I hope you will enjoy it!)) 

*** 1. // 2. // 3. // 4. // 5. // 6. // 7-1. // 7-2. // 8. // 9. // 10. //  11.

- - - The Desire - - -

Stanford, California, 2014

The night was very dark for you and your thoughts. You were unfathomably tired, but what was worse, you felt drained. You literally had to scold yourself mentally whenever your hand would reach for your phone, looking up his pictures, videos and his past you knew oh so well.

You would look for some old articles that were talking about his fencing, interviews where he would talk about his dream of becoming an Olympic gold medallist… You knew those articles by heart but you have never laid eyes on them in your life.

By the early morning, you managed to get some sleep that made you feel even worse. Sara, who did sleep better, woke up with a gentle smile knowing very well how bad it was for you. She was biting back all the positive arguments she had just so she could empathize with you in your misery.

“We should go down south to see the sea,” she suggested as you both sat down at the breakfast table in the hotel. “You would come up with nicer ideas.”

You sighed as you were trying to get rid off the egg shell on your hardboiled egg. “The thing is, dear Sara, that I don’t feel like doing shit.”

Sara bit her tongue to hold back sarcastic comments. “I know, dear, I know. But what can we do? Let’s try to look for a resolution. There must be some way to find out what is happening to us, to you especially.”

You gave out a much louder sigh and you put down the unfinished egg. “I want to know what does he think!”

“As in if he has the same thing happening to him?”

You nodded, your face unreadable. “Yes, exactly. Is he having the same twisted thing in his mind? Does he know me?” you gritted your teeth for a second before asking: “Does he miss me too?”

Sara’s jaw fell open as an idea struck her. “Oh my god, I think I know what should be our next step.”

You raised your eyebrows to get her to continue.

“Both of us started to feel this way once we saw one another, right?” You nodded. “So, he has to see you in order for him to get his memories back.”

Bam. There. Sara said it and you were speechless for a minute as you let the thought get processed in your brain.

You licked your dry lips and chewed on your lower lip. “But how on earth would he see me? He is a famous figure now. There is literally no chance-”

“That, my friend, is the easiest part,” Sara winked at you as she threw a piece of bacon into her smiling mouth.

“I don’t think I am connecting to your wave.”

“We have to see if they have a concert.”

“But there are hundreds, no, thousands of people - of girls - at concerts, Sara!” you said louder, getting frustrated. All the possibilities seemed so hard and unrealistic; you knew you had zero chance of Jackson noticing you in the massive crowd. And even if you were lucky to get a ticket, you would have to wait ages to get to the front and then perhaps if you would be even luckier, he would see you as a part of this massive crowd of wild fan girls. Nope. You were not that desperate for sure. 

Right then your heart painfully jumped.

Of course. Who were you kidding… You were more than desperate, if that was even physically possible. You passionately desired the moment you would see him, touch him, smile with him, be his again. However, for now all you could hope for was only a small eye contact with him and even that could go wrong.

Plus, your past-self and Jackson would always swear to each other love, how they would find each other even in another life…

Things were destined to be a certain way and if you would go against them, maybe you would have to go through another life yet again. What about Jackson then? How was he feeling? Was he also missing a piece of him? Was he truly happy right now? Was he really so unhappy with his past-self? As a professional fencer he would end up becoming loved by many either way.

“There is this thing called hi-touch event,” said Sara.

You shook your head to get out of your mind. “And?”

“And, this is the only way possible where you can meet Jackson. Oh, you can even touch his hand since that is the main thing of the entire event. You swiftly meet and hi-five the artists. These fans are considered to be lucky,” she said as her eyes sparkled with mystery and challenge.

You smirked. “Are you making fun of me, Sarrrita?” You said her name in a strong Spanish accent. “Obviously, I don’t have any luck. I would have already met him if I would have.”

Sara interrupted me with a rapid movement of her hand. “Let me stop you right there, Y/N. There is no such thing as luck. We are going to meet him because that is how it is supposed to be. No coincidence, nothing.”

“I just want to know how is it possible that I haven’t met him at all? I mean, we were high school class-mates. What happened?”

Sara pursed her lips. “You didn’t end up going to the international school. There was something that made your parents decide otherwise.”

“Exactly.” You were running your fingers along your lips, thinking intently. “We met at high school. My parents wanted me to become a doctor but with great English speaking skills. Something changed their mind… Do you think this can be an issue?”

“I truly don’t know. This is all such a mind-fuck,” she said as she covered her mouth for swearing.

“Is it all just about Jackson? Was it to prevent me from meeting him so he wouldn’t have any reason not to pursue his real dream?”

“Could be, why not. Did you do something after elementary school that didn’t allow you to go to international school?”

You nodded. “My parents were poor. They couldn’t afford this type of school. I was happy to have regular food and clean clothes.”

“Hm, interesting. In your previous life you were doing just fine.”

You nodded. “Yes, but I am not studying medicine. Things are not exactly the same.”

“Did you always have a strong dream?”

“Not really,” you shrugged your shoulders, poking the egg on your plate. “I mean, nothing I would be dedicated to. In the previous life, I met Jackson quite early on and once we fell in love, I would have been okay with doing anything as long as I had him,” you said matter-of-factly. This was your first time to talk about your past self without cringing. “And in this life, I don’t have the financial resources to follow my dream so I’m okay with doing this accounting degree. I’m finishing now, there is no more picking.”

Sara could only agree. She always knew you as a hard-working person who could do the best with what she had. She always admired you for giving up your pricey dreams just so you could live okay-ish. “You are doing so well, you know that, Y/N?”

You smiled sadly, averting your eyes. “I guess… I just want to resolve this thing.”

“If you could,” started Sara, her face dreamy, “would you stay with Jackson?”

Your eyes widened, the idea giving you pure goosebumps, your belly tightening. “How could I,” you laughed, stunned. “He is someone else now. I don’t think I know him and at the same time, I would recognise him even if I was blind. But I’m nobody compared to him. I’m sure he won’t pay any attention to me if we happen to make it to the concert.”

“Don’t talk like that,” frowned Sara. “You cannot know what he has in his mind. And, from all the videos that I have seen he seems like he matched to the things you have told me about him.”

You shrugged again. “I wish I knew. I wish I could see him right now.”

“You will see him soon. You will.”

Hong Kong, 2015

“If you think you can surprise me with a secret spot here, in Hong Kong, I will ask you to reconsider your thoughts, Wang,” you said as you were fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

Jackson, sitting behind the steering wheel and driving you god knew where, laughed as his hand caressed your thigh. “Look at you, not being excited about this at all.”

You smiled. “I know my Hong Kong pretty damn well, you know? I visit things when you leave the country for competitions.”

“You should be working in the hospital. You are just lazy all the time,” joked Jackson playfully.

“I do as I please,” you answered cheekily.

You were very curious to see what Jackson had prepared for you. It was not a lie that you knew Hong Kong well, you were a proud local and you always believed everyone shall know their birthplace if they spend all their life there.

You drove for a little bit more, the driving time being now one and a half hour. Soft music was playing in the background and you grabbed Jackson’s hand that was still on your thigh. You brought it to your lips. “I still love you, you know that?”

“Well, I’m actually starting to doubt it,” said Jackson and you were surprised. “You haven’t shown me properly in a while,” he pouted, giving you a quick puppy look.

Your mouth formed an “o” shape. “Excuse you, sir, you just came back from Sicilly and you are blaming me for lacking?”

Jackson nodded, offended.

You gave out a doubtful snort. “Just stop the car. I’ll show you.”

That made Jackson snap his head to you again, holding his gaze on you a little bit longer before returning it to the road. “I’ll stop the car right now if that is what you want.”

You smirked. He was so into you, missing your touches. Being away for two months made its toll on both of you, being thirsty for each other’s touch and closeness. “Let me just see what surprise you have prepared. The reward might be sweeter.”

Jackson pressed his lips together, trying hard not to step on the brakes harshly and not to take you right there on the passenger seat. You had a short denim skirt that was riding up far too high on your tanned thighs and your shirt had a tad big of a neck-line.

The car stopped on a massive parking lot in front of a sandy beach. Jackson unfastened his seatbelt and gave you a squirtle look. You returned it, trying hard not to smile at how cute he was.

“We are here,” he said, his voice deeper.

Now you could smile. “I love this place already.”

There were barely any people as it was quite outside of the city and most people were locals.

“Did you want us to take a walk here?” you asked, innocence palpable in your voice.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, baby.”

Jackson himself didn’t really know what he wanted to say. “I missed you so much.” His hand reached out, caressing your cheek lovingly. “I realised how much you truly mean to me, baby.”

You were listening intently, his burning gaze meeting yours. You could feel your heart pounding loudly, your breathing quickening.

“I love you with my entire being,” he whispered, each consonant loud and sharp in the quietness of the closed car.

You inhaled sharply as you grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his. One peck, two pecks, playing with lips, licks, bites, feverishly making out you swore you could devour him. A few minute loud make-out session and you could feel his hands under your shirt.

“Back seat” he murmured urgently, grabbing your naked skin on your waist. “Let’s move to the back seat.” His hot breath on your lips drove you crazy.

Both of you climbed impatiently, your foot getting stuck somewhere making you stumble straight into his arms. He laughed, his smile genuine, wide and toothy. “Careful,” he said quietly, pushing your hair out of your face.

Grabbing your neck, he pulled your face to his again, not wanting to waste any second longer. You smiled into the kiss, moving your legs to straddle his waist and he massaged your butt, groaning into your open mouth.

“You are so sexy,” you said somewhat shyly.

“And you are driving me crazy with this cute blush,” he breathed as he looked at your red cheeks. “Don’t tell me you have already forgotten how we are when we are together?”

“What do you mean, Jackson?” you laughed loudly, throwing your head back.

He stared at you, mesmerized by the look, your laugh ringing in his ears, your eyes tightly squeezed. “Damn it, you are so beautiful. You make me feel like it’s our first time.”

You calmed down and looked down at him, running your index finger over his swollen lips. With your thumb, you pressed on his plump bottom lip. Slowly, you came close to his mouth again. “For me, it is always as if it’s our first.” You took in his lower lip and the fire was ignited once again.

The desire, the passion, the need, the curiosity, the love… It was all there and it was always stronger. Clothes would be removed quicker, moves would be more sensual, you felt the earth shaking with you, screams getting louder or more muffled with the approaching bliss as your breaths became shorter. You felt so beautiful.

It was quiet in the car as you were lying on Jackson, both of you covered with the blanket Jackson prepared for the picnic that still hadn’t happened yet. You didn’t care in the slightest about it though. All you needed was right there.

As your lover was slowly drifting away in his sleep, you gently pushed his hair out of his sweaty forehead. You always wondered how he would look with his hair pushed away, nicely brushed back like those gentlemen had in 1930s. Jackson would rock the hell out of it. Maybe you could persuade him to try that look one day.

A sudden harsh ringing made you jump slightly in Jackson arms. He jerked awake, looking confused for a second before realising it’s his phone. “Oh, sorry about that.”

He pulled it out of his jeans’ pocket. “It’s my mum,” he said in a husky voice, accepting the call. He rested his head back, running his fingers gently over your naked back. It tickled you, so you hid your face in Jackson’s neck so his mum wouldn’t hear your giggles.

“What? Really? But that’s great!” said Jackson excitedly, and he pressed you closer to him. “When exactly?”

This perked up your ears. You pulled away, looking into Jackson’s eyes. He was smiling at you as Sophia was saying something in the phone.

“Amazing! Sure, I’ll tell Y/N, she’s here with me.”

Your hand was running over his chest, feeling the muscles. You rested your hand at the nape of his neck, giving him a light peck on the shoulder.

“Okay, thanks for calling me, mum! I’ll see you later.” He finished the call, putting his phone on the floor.

“What is it, baby?” you asked, curious. “Good news?”

Jackson sat up, making you sit on his lap. “My brother’s baby was born. It’s a girl and her name is Aimee!”

“Wow that’s great news! When can we see her?” you asked excitedly.

“I think this evening? We can go visit in the hospital, what do you think?” asked Jackson, caressing your cheek.

You nodded. “Good idea. How about now we actually go and enjoy beach till then? Of course, not swimming, since I can’t.”

Jackson laughed and agreed. “Sure, my love. I will keep you safe.”

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