#it’s because no one shares except those who remember what this platform is for and we’re so oversaturated we’re numb

[boundinparchment]

Will keep my commitments I’ve agreed to through the year but I’m gonna dip semi-permanently and see how it goes. my final writing that will be posted here will be the kinktober piece.

This isn't sustainable for me, not good for me, and honestly, there’s little point in sharing my writing here anymore. no one even cares to reblog and if likes are all that happens, why bother. I get more meaningful engagement from AO3 comments and things just get lost here.

maybe i’ll change my tune again one day and find peace in just posting but all I see is endless consumption despite my own efforts. I do not have the bandwidth for fighting against it right now.

all I’m doing is hurting myself and giving very important parts of myself, creatively and otherwise, to a place that doesn’t deserve them.

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS

NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO

You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.

But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)

In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.

“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.” You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.

“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”

“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”

He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”

You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.

“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”

“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.

“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.

“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”

Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.

“Oh my god, really?”

Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”

“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.

You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.

“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”

You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.

“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.

“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”

“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”

“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.

“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.

“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”

"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.

He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.

"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!" 

Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.

For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.

The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.

Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.

“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”

Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.

You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”

“Offense taken.”

“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”

Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)

“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”

“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.

“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.

“Fuck off, seriously.”

Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”

“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.

“That’s my biggest act of love.”

“I don't want it.”

“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”

“Double it again and give it to the next person?”

Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”

That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”

“When did I ever lie to you?”

You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”

“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”

“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”

Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you! Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.

Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.

“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”

“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”

“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.

Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."

"Oh, nice."

Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”

“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.

“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.

“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”

“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.

You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.

It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.

Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.

As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.

You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.

This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?

"You need help, ma'am?"

"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.

And Jesus Christ, indeed.

He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.

What the fuck.

What the fuck!

It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.

The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.

Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?

You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.

"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.

But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?

You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.

Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?

As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.

Fuck.

You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.

But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.

“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."

The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.

You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.

“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.

“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.

He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.

"It's okay, ma'am."

He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.

“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.

You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."

"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."

Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."

The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.

"Nice coincidence, huh?"

A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.

He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.

"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”

“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”

The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”

From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.

“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”

His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”

“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.

“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.

"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."

"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.

What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?

"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."

The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.

"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."

You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.

"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”

You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.

“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”

He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.

Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.

“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.

“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”

"It's an exchange, then. Deal."

"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.

You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.

“Hey, so I’m going in—”

“What about we—”

“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”

The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”

“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”

“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”

“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.

“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”

You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.

It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.

“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”

“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.

When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.

And then fake-cried.

You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.

You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR

It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.

cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒

You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer

cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times

You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think

cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀

You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.

cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell

You [5:49pm]: 🤭

There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.

You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.

Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."

Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.

Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.

In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.

It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.

Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.

As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.

Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,

"Hi."

When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"

"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."

You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.

"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."

He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."

"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."

Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you

"I'm Jungkook."

It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.

Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.

You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.

Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.

Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.

Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.

"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.

"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.

In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.

"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"

Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.

"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.

Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that! 

Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."

You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.

The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."

A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.

You heard Jungkook do the same.

This was ridiculous.

"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.

Not in front of Jungkook.

"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."

You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.

As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.

"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."

"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.

"Totally."

And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.

"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"

You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."

"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.

"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.

Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.

"I have to learn your ways, then."

"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."

You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."

You decided to ride along with that.

"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.

He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."

"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."

"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.

"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."

Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.

"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."

Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away. 

You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.

"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"

You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.

"Oh, that's actually surprising."

A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.

"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."

Oh.

"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."

"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."

"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.

"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.

God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.

"So, you're like, fifty, then?"

Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."

"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"

He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."

Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.

"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!

Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.

What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.

"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.

"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.

You brought your hands up.

"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."

Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.

"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.

"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.

"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"

He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."

"Oh, that's cool."

You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.

Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him. 

You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?

"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"

Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.

"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"

"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.

Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.

"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."

You chuckled.

"Yeah. Totally."

Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.

The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.

"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"

"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."

"That's insane."

You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.

Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.

But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.

"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.

"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."

"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.

He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com. 

"Yeah."

"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.

Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."

"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?

"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."

"He must be really cute. What's his name?"

"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"

"Sure!"

Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.

Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.

"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.

"I'm flattered you think that."

"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."

"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.

Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.

You nodded. "For business, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.

"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."

Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.

"My best friend's from Busan too."

"Really? What about you?"

You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."

"Seoul is an interesting place, though."

"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.

The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.

As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"You mind if we walk together to the building?"

You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.

"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"

"Sure... my five-eleven self is."

You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!

"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."

Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.

"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.

You gasped audibly.

"Oh, shut up,"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.

"I'm kidding!"

You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).

But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.

On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.

As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.

The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.

Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.

Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.

On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.

You never asked, it never came up either.

Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.

Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.

Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.

It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.

Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.

He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.

In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.

But with Jungkook... was it different.

You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.

Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.

"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.

"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.

They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.

After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.

"Oh my god, how do they have these?"

"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"

"Yeah!"

You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.

And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.

Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.

1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)

That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano

As soon as you read the first message, another one came.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)

You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night–like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.

You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo

Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good

You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite

What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.

Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.

You found you liked it that way. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻

And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.

You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless. 

And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.

He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.   

When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.

You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.

Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.

Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.

"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."

As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.

Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.

But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.

Wow.

Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...

You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.

It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.

And my goodness, did it make you feel things.

You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.

"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."

You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.

Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.

You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.

"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.

"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."

At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.

"We should do that sometime."

"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.

He chuckled and waved you off.

"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.

You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.

"What's the catch?"

"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.

You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."

"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk. 

"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.

He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.

"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."

Your eyebrows met.

"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."

"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."

"Oh."

You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.

He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.

He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.

"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.

"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."

Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.

"If I win."

He said, smiling at you.

This was dangerous.

The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!

Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...

But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.

So you did what you do best.

"Would you like to donate to the poor?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."

The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.

"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.

"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.

Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."

"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.

See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.

Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.

You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.

"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.

Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.

"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.

You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.

"Did you really...?"

It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.

"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."

You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.

"The important reason being... meeting me?"

"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.

From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"

Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.

"It's kinda... bummer news."

"You're pregnant?"

"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.

"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.

What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.

"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes. 

Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.

"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.

Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."

"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"

He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!

"He's going to Italy."

"Oh."

When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.

"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.

You thought, that's tomorrow.

As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.

"I know."

"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.

Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.

"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."

That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.

"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"

Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."

"Jimin." You tilted your head.

He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.

There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.

"I know. I just..."

"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."

Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."

You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."

"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."

"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you. 

You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.

"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."

The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.

After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...

You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.

Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.

Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."

As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.

"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"

Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."

"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"

You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."

"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."

"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.

With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.

Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"

"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.

"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"

"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."

He gasped, quite dramatically.

"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."

"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."

"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."

You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."

"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.

"God, you're just never beating me at this."

"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."

"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.

Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.

"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."

He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.

"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"

The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.

"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"

"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.

Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"

"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.

Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."

His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.

"You... slut."

You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.

"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.

This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.

"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.

"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."

Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"

God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.

"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."

Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"

"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."

Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.

"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.

You shook your head.

"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."

Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.

"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.

"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.

"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.

"Who do you think your best friend is?"

You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.

"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."

Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."

"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."

You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either. 

"We're gonna have to freestyle."

Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.

Tonight, it was at their mansion.

You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.

Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.

The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.

Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.

You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.

Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.

It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.

The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.

Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.

"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.

"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.

Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"

"Hey,"

Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.

"Oh, Junghyun!"

Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."

"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"

"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.

"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.

"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"

"It's __." you filled in.

"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.

Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."

Jimin cleared his throat.

"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.

You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.

"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"

Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?

Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."

"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.

If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.

"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"

"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.

Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you. 

"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."

Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.

"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.

"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.

"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."

Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.

You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.

"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.

You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.

"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.

Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.

"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.

You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.

Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.

"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.

"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.

"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.

"We'll see."

Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.

Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.

Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.

"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"

Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."

"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.

Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.

"Oh."

The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost. 

You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.

"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."

"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.

"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.

"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.

You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.

"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"

They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.

It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.

Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. 

This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.

It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.

If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.

When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.

Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!

From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.

Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?

There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.

"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.

You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.

What the fuck. What the fuck!  Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?

As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!

Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.

cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?

You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.

You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔

"Shit!"

Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss

You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.

Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.

That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.

You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.

Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.

In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.

"Hey, you just landed?"

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."

"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.

cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????

You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.

What the hell did he mean by that?

Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...

Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?

Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.

But maybe you should have.

Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO  for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.

So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.

You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.

You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying

You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it  cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????

You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.

You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF

You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there

You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing

cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice

You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.

You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.

"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"

PART TWO | ....

all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[starcrossed-sky]

Hey Twitter(/Reddit) alternative seekers

Okay, fandom. Everyone's all worked all the time about this or that new alternative to Twitter and how it's either awesome or it sucks. I'm here to tell you about an OLD alternative: Plurk.

(Note that this was originally formatted for Twitter so forgive the jank thread paragraphing)

Disclaimer: This information is specifically aimed at people who use Twitter for fandom purposes; it is not intended to cover the exhaustive list of things that people use Twitter for (professional networking, art/photography promotion world news, etc). It's friend-centric rather than follow-centric, at least as the existing site culture goes.

So what is Plurk? It's a threaded microblogging platform dating back to 2008 that has only ever seen extremely niche use in English-language use. (Its primary userbase is Chinese-speaking.) It has a purely chronological timeline and a lot of privacy features that you haven't seen since the LJ era (assuming you're old enough to remember that).

Plurk functions through an exclusively-chronological timeline on your homepage (desktop) or in the app. Algorithmically sourced content? We ain't got it! (There is a different page for viewing top content but you have to go there specifically.) Instead, your timeline shows your own content and the content of other plurkers you friend or follow, and the occasional ad (MUCH more occasional than Twitter).

Each top-level plurk can be replied to, and this creates a chain of replies that can be used for conversation. Unlike Twitter and Reddit, replies don't form branching threads; each plurk is only one stream of conversation. Plurks with unread replies will be lit up as unread; however, they can be "muted" to stop them from giving you notifications.

(Two small caveats: You cannot mute your own plurks, and there is actually a cap of around 200 muted plurks. Mutes will fall off from the oldest, so you'll sometimes see an ancient plurk pop back up on your timeline if someone comes back to it. You can just mute it again.)

Your plurk timeline has a global privacy control. If your timeline is set to private, only people you have friended can see what you say on there. If your timeline is public, then anyone who comes to you page can see what you've posted, AND logged-in users can share your post on their own timeline with the "replurk" function (works just like a normal retweet), as well as reply to it.

There is also an "anonymous" option, which anonymizes you and also the names of everyone who replies (it randomly generates names like "lemon354" and "libra262" for repliers to differentiate them). Anonymous plurks will stay within your timeline if your plurk is set to private, but can be replurked if it's public.

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE, because individual plurks can also be given specific privacy levels: -> Friends only (if your timeline is public but you don't want this one getting around) -> Private to "cliques," which are Twitter circles but you can have more than one -> Individual users (including those not on your friends list - this is plurk's equivalent of DMs)

Your own plurk homepage is also insanely customizable, if you want to break out the CSS or even just have a custom background. You can also alter your display name (though the character cap is VERY short), and your display name color, as well as the standard avatar change. Usernames cannot be changed as a free user, but can be changed by paid users (more on paid options in a second).

Plurk also has its own image hosting, and a pastebin-alike plaintext called Plurk Paste that has no character limit. (The character limit for top-level plurks is longer than Twitter's.)

It also has CUSTOM EMOTES in addition to its (somewhat wild) default selection. They're similar to Discord's customs, except that you can use GIFs from the get go; what's restricted is the number of slots you have as a free user. (And size is capped at 48x48 px.)

Plurk has ads, but they're mostly unobtrusive (and can be clocked entirely with ad blockers, but I didn't say that). Plurk keeps the lights on through a subscription model called Plurk Coin, which is very cheap (under $2.50 USD/month) and can be gifted to other users. Coin gives you a number of benefits including the "Except" privacy option, more username colors, response editing, and a bunch more custom emote slots.

Concerned about harassment? Plurk has one of the most robust blocking systems in social media that I've ever seen. You block someone, and they can't see you (even by going to your profile) and you can't see them. That's it, done. Full no-contact.

NSFW/18+ content is allowed. There's a specific flag for it when you first post a plurk. Plurk does expect you to use that tag when appropriate, but is otherwise very forgiving of NSFW content, at least in my experience. (Again, though, English plurk is a very small community ATM).

The thing to remember about Plurk is that it is very much a remnant of an older internet, from the days before algorithms. Like Tumblr, it's a social media where you won't see anything if you don't reach out to follow and friend people. It predates "going viral" as a goal of internet usage. The goal is to talk to people.

As an aside: Since I originally wrote this up, I've seen rumors about Japanese fanartists moving to plurk and even seen one or two mentions of it in the wild on my Twitter timeline as people talk about following those artists. Fantastic! If that's you, then I hope you find this slightly more in-depth guide to features helpful.

If this sounds up your alley, I've made a public plurk specifically for Twitter refugees to come meet people and get more information on how plurk works! You can find it here.

Twitter version: [link]

Please replurk to spread this information about!

EDIT Sept 7 2024: You can mute your own plurks now, whoo!

[kysonwrites]

ᵃⁿˣⁱᵉᵗʸ ⁻ ᵐᵃᵗᵗ ˢᵗᵘʳⁿⁱᵒˡᵒ

↳ summary: reader is having a very bad day, and has a panic attack. matt and madi are there for her though.

↳ warnings: mentions of anxiety, and crying. let me know if i missed any! :)

↳ author's note: by the way if anyone is struggling with mental health, please do not be scared to reach out, and talk to me. i love you all, and only want the best for you guys.

↳ disclaimer: reader is female, she/her pronouns used!

you were an influencer as well, thriving with six million subscribers on youtube, and a couple million on all other platforms. you started posting content around two years ago, and people grew extremely quickly to like you. then when you started dating matt sturniolo five months ago, and things went slightly downhill. you would get hate for dating him, he would get hate for dating you. the hate consisted of,

"why her?"

"she's so gross, omg..."

or.

"she could do much better then him."

"please he's so pathetic."

now you did a very good job on blocking the haters out, because you have many many more supporters and fans, then people who went out of their way to try to fuck up your ego. except for today, you had a twin sister, and she was your rock. your everything, she knew how to lighten your day better then anyone else could. she knew, and could feel when your anxiety was getting bad. only she was on a trip, to travel to get her new puppy, that you two would be sharing. you didn't tag along with her because you had videos to film and stuff to do.

something didn't feel right, your mind was filled with thoughts. you couldn't get them out of your head, you played with your fingers as you sat on the triplet's living room couch in la. while nick had his arm around you, talking to chris. you knew you were very attractive, everyone told you all the time. it wasn't your looks that bothered you, hell nothing bothered you. it was just one of those days, that nothing was the cause of making you upset, you just were upset.

"hey, you okay?" matt asked, emerging from the bathroom. he saw your zoned out state.

"yeah, no i'm good. just have to use the restroom." you rambled, before getting up, feeling nick's arm fall from you, and closing the bathroom door behind you. he knew something was up, but wanted to wait until you came out of the bathroom to talk to you about it.

you hadn't had a panic attack in years, you've became so much more healthier, and happier. you had nothing in your life to panic about anymore, but for the thousandth time that day, you felt strange. then you felt the tear fall from your eye, and you sat on the closed toilet seat.

"fuck." you whispered, as you felt your breathing pick up and your tears became to rush from your eyes quicker.

"y/n?" matt asked, you heard him knock.

"yeah?" you tried to sound calm, but it came out squeaky, and rushed.

"you okay? lemme in." he asked the first half, and demanded the other.

"i just,- okay." you tried to lie, but knew he already caught on and you stood up to open the door. as soon as you saw him, you held your chest struggling to breath.

"hey, hey." matt consoled you, as he lowered you to the floor with him. he held you in his arms, as you cried. "what happened, y/n/n?" he asked, not really expecting an answer, he just said it so you remembered he was there.

"i-" you tried to speak, but just clung to him tighter. if you could breath any harder, you did.

madi was your best friend, and she walked by the door looking for you. she gasped as she saw the state you were in, and she quickly moved to the kitchen to get you water.

"breath with me, okay?" he asked, guiding your hand gently to his chest to feel his breathing. "in and out, okay baby?" he saw your eyes, filled with tears. his heart broke, hes never seen you cry before. and it hurt him to see you like this, he hated it. "please don't cry, y/n/n." he said quietly, as your breathing began to slow down.

madi came back with water, and handed it to matt, to give to you. you took the water and sipped it, but when you saw madi's socks. you reached up for her hand, and she sat down next to you. she began to rub your back, smiling softly at you.

"better now?" madi said, nodding her head at you, waiting for an answer.

"yeah, thank you guys." you spoke, while standing up. matt helped you.

"wanna talk about it?" matt said, leading you to his room with madi following.

"sure, madi c'mon." she stopped at matts door frame, as if she didn't know if she was wanted. she stepped into matts room, and she shut the door behind her. you sat on the bed, and matt sat next to you, madi sat down on the other side of you. they looked at you, waiting for you to speak with such kind eyes. "i feel like i was just having an off day, y'know? nothing really made me sad, or panicked. i just felt like it." you explained, looking down kicking your feet while looking at them.

"i know, whenever you feel like that, just make sure you tell us next time." matt said, looking down at you with gentle eyes.

"never feel scared to talk to us, your my best friend. i love you." madi said, bringing you in for a hug.

"i love you guys both, so much." while madi was hugging you, you wrapped one arm around her, and opened the other for matt. he hugged you, and planted a kiss on your temple.

what would you do without them?

[spirits-n-giggles]

Hello, my name is Ahlam, I am 21 years old. I apologize for asking you, but the situation in Gaza is very difficult

Imagine that your entire life is limited to one thought: How can I stay alive? . You no longer think about the future, because the present has become a battlefield . Every day you wake up to the sound of an explosion , or you see fear in people's eyes greater than words 🥺. War doesn't just take your home 🏡, it takes away from your heart every sense of security. Even the places that used to be full of children's laughter , are now empty except for destruction and ashes. Food? It has become a dream . Water? Every drop of it is a treasure . And sleep? It has become a luxury that only those who have completely lost their sense of fear can afford. Do you remember when you used to plan for your future? Now, the future is just an empty word. Every day that passes is a small victory, but the price? Your soul that is eroded with every moment. And amidst all of this, there is something that still clings to hope inside of me, even if it is lost. I search the faces for remnants of humanity, for any hand that reaches out to tell me "there is still life after the war" . I created a link to collect donations for me so that I can leave the war zone and start over in a safe place and live in peace away from fear, anxiety and destruction.If you can contribute any amount, even a small amount, it will make a big difference.

Vetted by : dlxxv-vetted-donations

I hope you will help me and donate to me 👇👇

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-ahlam-rebuild-her-life-and-dreams

I can't even fathom what it is like for every person suffering under the hatred of others. There is no reason for such brutality and you do not deserve this. I don't have a lot of money, but I do have a small platform and I will always share those that are shouting but can not be heard. I hear you and I will be your voice.

Free Palestine 🇵🇸❤️🍉

[haledamage]

Bonus! Inhale for Qora/Arcann :3

[ INHALE ]: while standing in very close quarters to the receiver, the sender shakily inhales with desire/anticipation as they realize how intimately close they are to one another.

Today is a lovely day for some Arcann angst! And also Arcann fluff, because he deserves it. This ties directly into For What It’s Worth (for those who haven’t read it or want a refresh and want to skip ahead to the scene it pertains to, it starts with the line “He isn’t surprised to find her in his dreams that night.”) 

sometime shortly after KotET and Unmasked Regret! that’s right, we’ve got actual in-relationship Qora/Arcann this time :3 vague mentions of past abuse

---

The tension was palpable as Qora and Arcann waited for the elevator to make its way all the way to the base of the tower where they stood. It pressed in around them, heavy and oppressive, and made even Qora hesitate to break the silence.

It lingered after they stepped onto the platform and it started its ascent, until finally she couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you sure about this, Arcann? We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Yes, we do.” He sounded almost serene, and she might’ve bought it if she couldn’t feel the twisting storm of emotions underneath the calm surface. “I do.”

The rest of her argument died before she could give it voice. They both knew she wouldn't make him do this alone.

“There’s no telling what Vaylin did while you were gone,” she warned anyway, as gently as possible.

“I know. But I need to see it for myself,” he insisted. He glanced in her direction, a small smile lifting one corner of his lips. “Besides… you’re the Empress now. Don’t you want to see your palace?”

“‘Empress’ me again and see where it gets you,” Qora said sourly, with an equally sour grimace.

The low, warm chuckle Arcann gave her in response was almost worth putting up with the title. If only for a little while.

The elevator doors opened unceremoniously into a long, empty hallway. The walls were white and bare of any adornment except for three identical doors, one on each wall and one at the end.

Part of her remembered this hall, even if she’d never been there before. She’d dreamed about it, children sneaking from one room to another, the thrill of staying up past curfew and testing the bounds of what they could get away with. Happier times.

The room at the far end was Vaylin’s. A room to keep her always a bit removed from her brothers, disguised as a place of honor. To the east was Thexan’s room, with windows that faced Zakuul’s sunrise. It had long sat dormant, untouched since his death, exactly as he’d left it. And to the right…

Arcann had gone ahead while she lingered by the elevator, but he waited for her outside the door that she knew led to his room. The turmoil she felt from him downstairs was even worse now, strong enough that she could barely tell her emotions from his anymore. Pain, fear, regret, guilt.

Which would be worse to find on the other side of the door? Destruction left by his sister’s petulant wrath, or an untouched memorial like his brother’s room?

I shouldn’t be here. I should never have come back.

Wordlessly, Qora stepped up to his side. When she slipped her hand into his, his doubts went abruptly silent.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Arcann opened the door and pulled her into the room with him.

The feeling of deja vu was even stronger here than it had been in the hall. This was a room Qora was intensely, intimately familiar with. 

She had spent dozens of nights here, in Force-given lucid dreams she shared with Arcann. Pacing the living space, judging his taste in decor, deliberately pushing his buttons in an effort to understand him.

When she looked back at the last few years, it wasn't the war that came to mind first. It was this. This place. Years of the two of them drawing lines in the sand and taunting the other to cross them until they found themselves unexpectedly meeting in the middle.

It looked exactly as she remembered it. White, silver, and black, not a speck of color or luxury to be found. Stark, utilitarian, impersonal. Cold. More of a prison cell than a bedroom, belonging to a man who had been raised to believe sentimentality and comfort were punishable offenses.

Barely conscious of what she was doing, Qora crossed the room to the table by the bed, and picked up Thexan's lightsaber.

A few seconds later, Arcann joined her. He carefully took the hilt when she held it out to him, turning it slowly in his hand. "This doesn't feel real," he murmured, echoing her own thoughts.

"It was always real." She stepped away, restless energy pulling her back toward the center of the room. Looking for something, but she didn't know what yet. "I tried to pretend it wasn't, but I was lying."

Arcann hummed an agreement, which melted into a dry, humorless laugh as understanding curled through their bond. "If it wasn't real, then nothing that happened there mattered. Anything we said or… did, didn't have to change anything when we woke up."

That little pause before did got Qora's attention, but she didn't comment. She would have, once upon a time, but she didn't feel the need to anymore. She trusted that he'd tell her in his own time.

So much had changed since then.

"Do you remember the last time we were here together?" The gentle rumble of Arcann's voice came from right behind her, likely following the same impulse she was.

When she spun around to face him, he wasn't looking at her. His gaze was locked on the wall behind her. It was obvious where his mind was.

Qora’s thoughts were drawn to the same place, the same memory. The night after the battle on--and destruction of--Asylum. He’d come very close to killing her that day, closer than she’d ever admitted. But afterwards, in the dreamspace they sometimes shared, the lines between “friend” and “enemy” could get blurred and become… something else entirely.

She remembered Arcann, unmasked for the first time since they'd met. The anger simmering in his golden eyes, not quite strong enough to hide the fragile uncertainty underneath. The way that rage had cooled, just for a moment, when she touched him. The warmth of his skin as she traced the ridges of scars he’d never let anyone else see.

A moment of understanding, of connection, of vulnerability. She'd thought she was finally getting through to him.

Arcann, take your mask off. I’m tired of talking to it. I want to talk to you.

I do not want your pity, Qora.

Is that what you feel from me? Pity?

And then everything had gone wrong. In a blink, they were enemies again. It had taken the better part of the next year just to claw her way back to where they’d started.

Qora wasn’t aware she was moving until her hand settled against Arcann’s cheek, the durasteel of her prosthetic cool against his skin. Synthetic nerves let her feel the ridges of his scars just as she had that night--though she was quite a bit more familiar with them now.

He leaned into her touch, finally turning away from the wall. His eyes were pale blue instead of the golden orange of her memory; less fragile, less uncertain, no longer angry and full of something almost approaching contentment.

“Sometimes I wonder…” he spoke so quietly that Qora had to step closer to hear him properly, “how things might have been different, if I’d made another choice that night.”

“What other choice?” She'd asked herself that question so many times, and still hadn't found a satisfying answer.

Arcann looked behind her at the wall again, unwilling to meet her eyes anymore--though he didn’t otherwise pull away from her. “I’m… not sure.” His brow furrowed as he got lost in thought, and Qora automatically brushed her thumb over it to soothe it away. “Everything I felt about you then was… tangled up. Hatred, jealousy, desire… I couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began.”

Saying ‘I know’ felt trite, even if it was the truth. She knew it all too well, the fear that had been beaten into both of them under the guise of "training", the suspicion that every kindness hid a new cruelty, that an offered hand held the sharpest knife. Spend enough time in darkness and you’ll become afraid of the light.

What she said instead was, “I understand.” It didn’t feel like enough either.

“What I do know…” his breath hitched with a sharp, shaky inhale, as her other hand settled on his unscarred cheek, cradling his face between her hands, “is that no one had ever touched me like you did. Like I was something special. Something worthy. Part of me would have done anything you wanted if it meant you would keep doing so.”

“It wouldn’t have taken much. I’ve never been any good at keeping my hands to myself, where you’re concerned.” Qora’s voice fell short of her attempt at levity, coming out too quiet and too sincere.

It was still enough to draw a smile from Arcann. “I don’t mind. I never have.”

His arms curled slowly around her waist, drawing her in and closing what little space still remained between them. His smile grew wider and just a little playful; she was too distracted by the lovely sight of it to recognize it as the warning it was.

“Besides,” if his smile was playful, his voice was downright teasing, “what else could I possibly offer you? I’ve already given you my Empire.”

All Qora managed was an indignant squawk before Arcann interrupted her with a kiss, his laughter warm and sweet against her lips.

[shipmistress9]

20 question for writers tag game

tagged by @taumoebaa Thank you! 🥰

1. Total number of ao3 works?

105, apparently.

2. Total ao3 word count

1,154,048 That... a lot of worde o.O

3. Fandoms I've written in

Fandoms I've published in are: How to train your dragon Zelda Miraculous Ladybug The Empyrean - Fourth Wing Pokemon Stardew Valley But I also wrote many unfinished fics, for fandoms like Final Fantasy VII & VIII, Crescent City, ACOTAR, Starcrossed (Josephine Angelini), and Divergent.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

Okay, this feels a bit ridiculous... 😆 1. When Three Wrongs Make One right. (1449) (ML) 2. For The Love Of A Princess (709) (HTTYD) 3. Keeping The Facade (701) (ML) 4. Resurrection (615) (HTTYD/MCU) 4. My Kingdom. My Throne. my Queen. (317) (The Empyrean) 5. Part of our 'us' (311) (The Empyrean) I crossed out Resurrection because I didn't write this one, I was just one of the alpha-readers. But this shows so well how little Kudos really say about a fic. The two Miraculous fics there? I love them, but especially Keeping The Facade is just a cute/angsty little smutshot for a (relative) rarepair. That fandom is/was just so huge that the hits/Kudos catapult it up there to the top. In comparisson, FTLOAP is my big epic story, close to 400k words, many years of planning and writing. That just doesn't measure up.

5. Do I respond to comments?

I try to, yes. I just have this thing where I only respond to comments (in longer stories) when I'm about to post the followup-chapter. Which leads to... some comments never getting answers when I fail to keep writing. Or comments on previous chapters getting lost in my inbox. 😶

6. What has the angstiest ending?

Thats's difficult. 🤔 I don't even remember all my fics anymore. 😅 But I think that must be 'Follow Your Heart', at least without the (optional) sequals.

7. What has the happiest ending?

I feel like all my fics (with few exceptions) end on a lovely happy fluffy note. That's just my thing, and trying to pin down which is the happiest doesn't work.

8. Have I received hate?

Oh, yes! Some years ago, there as a dedicated Anon in the HTTYD fandom, who methodically attacked every writer who didn't write their fav couple as 'pure' as they wanted them to be. They would write loooong and elaborate comments about aaaaaaall the things we as writers did wrong and how that clearly reflects how awful people we are in RL. The fandom banded together to drive them away, but... those there some rough months.

9. Do I write smut? And what kind?

YES! I love writing (and reading) smut. 😁 There's always an underlying tone of emotions and devotion and love in my smut, even or especially when I dive into BDMS and D/s dynamics.

10. Do I write crossovers?

Not really. There are fics in my list that are 'tagged' as crossover, but they're really just characters from one fandom slipping into the world of another. Like modern AUs, in a way, or the [Hiccup=the doctor, Eret=Capt. Jack Harkness, Astrid=T.A.R.D.I.S.] thing I once wrote. Or random (disney) characters showing up as background characters in some httyd fics.

11. Have I ever had a fic stolen?

No, thankfully not. Or at least I'm not aware of it. But someone once stole one of my AMVs, and it felt awful.

12. Have I ever had a fic translated?

Someone once asked me for permission to translate one of my fics. But in the middle of it, their government shut down the fanfic platform they were using, so they never finished the tranlsation.

13. Have I ever co-written a fic?

I have! Though never in an equal share. I've helped and received help in the form of alpha reading, which at some points feels like co-writing (but isn't). And I wrote a fic with a friend (though not under my general name 😅) where I would contribute full chapters here and there after we talked about the general plot points. That was so much fun! 🥰

14. What is my all-time fave ship?

I don't think this is a question I can answer. Maybe I can say that Hiccstrid is the ship that had the biggest influence on my life, for various reasons, but naming them my all-time fave would diminish what I feel about other important ships.

15. A WIP I'll never finish

Uh... probably too many to count. But I can say for certain that I'll never finish 'Astrid's Diary'. It was a POV fic, the first HTTYD movie and the TV show from Astrid's POV. But the background story I had in mind died a quiet sad death with the release of more seasons, and I lost interest in either writing my version or adapting it to the new canon.

16. Writing strengths?

Dialogues and emotions, or so I've been told.

17. Writing weaknesses?

Descriptions of places, how something looks. My brain works 100% non-visual and that makes it hard to a) imagine how a place or a person looks and b) to describe it once I made the effort to build the look up in my head. I just go by vibes.

18. Do I like foreign language dialogue?

Not really. As English is already a foreign laguage for me, bringing in others feels weird to me. Except for that one time I had a multi-lingual character who'd always slip into cursing in other languages during sex. That was a lot of fun. 😁

19. First fandom I wrote for?

I... have no idea. Maybe 'Saber Rider and the Star Sherrifs' or maybe 'Detective Conan'. Though in both cases, I didn't even realise something like 'fanfiction' existed, I was just writing for myself. Then I wrote half of a Divergent fic after reading a few others. The first fic I ever published was for HTTYD.

20. Favourite fic I've written?

I can absolutely not answer this question. Sure, I might like some of my fics better than others, but I also 'love' all of them. But generally, I think I like my longer fics the most. The entire 'I Should Go' series, NOOT, WIMTBC, and FTLOAP for HTTYD. WTWMOR for Miraculous. MtO and the Violiaden Series for Fourth Wing.

tagging @taketheshot21 @heathenvampires @athingofvikings @dayeongi @drakaina-amore64 and everyone who else might want to do these. 🥰

[insipid-drivel]

Y2K’s Forgotten Heroes And The Looming Threat of 2038

I feel like sharing some information about the 90′s to people here. Particularly about Y2K, aka Internet Armageddon That Didn’t Happen In 2000 Thanks To People You Haven’t Heard Of Like My Mom.

My mom, among her teammates and people tasked with similar roles to her, never get any recognition for the work they did in keeping computers across the globe functioning in 2000. She was a project manager among a group of overstressed, underappreciated people that worked at a company called Intel that are responsible for preventing a global societal collapse in 1999. Y2K being allowed to happen the way people thought it would (and really, it was going to be worse than even Intel could forecast and they still don’t know how bad it would’ve been) would’ve undoubtedly destroyed the fabric of the internet in 1999 and 2000, and therefore, no social media platforms like this Hellsite right here. She’s actually on tumblr and has been following the Muskrat’s destruction of Twitter with mute, techie horror.

In the years leading up to 2000, the world was panicking on its tenderhooks due to the looming crisis that was Y2K. For those of you that are either too young to remember or just didn’t know about it, Y2K was a big deal. A planet-alteringly big deal. A “We don’t know how much would’ve crashed and burned in our world’s society and economy if we’d ignored it,” big deal. tl;dr: All computer software around the world wasn’t programmed to have their internal clocks transfer to January 1st, 2000. Instead, what was going to happen was every functioning computer in the world running Intel software - on New Years Eve, 1999 - would change calendars to January 1st, 1900.

This was a catastrophic prospect for everyone impacted by the computer age. People receiving social security benefits and paying off formal loans with interest rates would suddenly receive benefits and payment rates documented in 1900. NORAD, the international weather-tracking service kids use to track Santa on Christmas Eve and that warns people of natural disasters like hurricanes, would have gone dark with no timestamps to indicate major shifts in weather. Entire governments would lose all digital contact with one another. The WHO and CDC would go dark. Hospital networks would’ve gone down. The Stock Market would’ve gone to shit. No one in the world would’ve been immune. If Japan suffered a massive, horrific famine due directly to the 1929 crash of the US Stock Market before the Internet, imagine what would’ve happened if the very screens that displayed the global stock market records to major metropolitan cities around the world just... stopped working in 2000. Went dark. Blue-screened. An entire system built upon split-second trades, bids, buyouts, and reports for trade around the world would’ve shut down for a lot longer than just a split second.

By the time it was almost the year 2000, the Internet as we knew it was like a gigantic, invisible, planet-sized Rube Goldberg machine that a comparatively microscopic group of people were tasked with repairing before it could fail in ways they couldn’t foretell, without being able to live-test any of their solutions. It was “Fuck it, we’re doing it live!” to the extreme. Most of the programmers that had built the infrastructure for the Internet and computer technology as we recognize it, all the way back in the 60′s, were retired, dead, no longer working in those sectors, or simply hadn’t kept up with changes in the technology and couldn’t be brought up to speed to help in time. Even the highest echelons of the management at Intel itself didn’t really consider Y2K to be a big concern, except for my mom’s department. I still have lingering anxiety and trauma from hearing the sound of a woman’s voice shouting with panic and anger, because she was the one literally shouting into her phone to “Nah, we’ll be fine,” Luddite tech giants that NO, NOTHING WAS FINE AND EVERYTHING WAS GOING TO BE VERY BAD from the time I was born in 1992 to January 1st, 2000.

Any programs and companies relying upon Microsoft software, even Word and Excel, would have either suffered catastrophic errors, or ceased to function altogether, too. The team handling Y2K didn’t know how bad it could’ve actually gotten at the time, and they were still responsible for stopping it. To this day, my mom and the rest of the team members that worked with her can’t actually say how much of our technological lives would’ve been destroyed if they’d done nothing. The potential destruction was literally unfathomable. The global economy relied on computers and tech by the time Y2K became a major topic of concern to experts, much less casual everyday users.

This was before WiFi. This was before smartphones. HotSpots? The stuff of cyberpunk fantasies. This was before most cell phones had a text feature; you carried your cell phone and a pager separately, and if you thought character limits on Twitter were bad? lol. Ever had to make a collect call in a phone booth? Do you have any idea how badly we’d freak each other out over the thought of the germs on those things? If you couldn’t afford a collect call, which cost for every minute you were talking, you had to get creative and learn to say who you were and where you were to someone in the, “Caller, at the tone, please state only your name, beep” 3-second window of free time you got to contact someone.

You could’ve been stuck in a bad neighborhood at 3am. Taxis didn’t pick up hitchhikers like they do in New York, and you could screw off if you didn’t have cash on you; credit cards were mostly used at malls and supermarkets, and retail workers from the 90′s to this day still have the question “Credit or debit?” burned into their souls. You needed coins as well as bills and credit cards. It was still common to pay for groceries with a paper check, because you carried a checkbook around with you everywhere as an adult. There was no RideShare service with anyone but a serial killer, because yeah, serial killers loved targeting stranded pedestrians back then and that’s why nobody hitchhikes anymore. Homicidal freaks like The Green River Killer (Gary Ridgway) and BTK (Dennis Rader) were still at large and unidentified. It was thanks to revolutions in tech and computers that they were caught at all; BTK having been busted thanks to metadata and TIME STAMPS on a floppy disk.

AOL was still one of the top ISPs and email services to the United States. You would receive installation CDs for AOL in children’s cereal boxes like prizes. Dial-up was still a normal part of life. Blockbuster was renting out Nintendo 64 games along with VHS movies. DVD players were revolutionary. Barnes & Noble and Borders were still competing. The FBI still warned you at the start of a movie that piracy was illegal while almost every VHS had a “record” setting you could use with impunity. Amazon was primarily an online bookstore. J.K. Rowling was just some closeted TERF that just published her first weird, popular British fairytale about some kid that went to a school for wizards where goblins were real but black people weren’t. You could get a copy at the Scholastic Book Faire if your school library didn’t have it. MySpace wasn’t a thing. YouTube didn’t exist. Cell phones were big and sturdy enough to be used as a lethal weapon. AskJeeves was one of the most popular search engines because, fuck it, Jeeves was a dapper butler and asking him questions was fun. A phone call could disconnect you from the internet unless you paid for multiple lines. DSL was seen as the newest, hottest, next-gen concept. The World Trade Center was still standing and present in the generic backdrops of nearly every daytime or New York-based news or talk show. Mr. Rogers, Bill Nye, and Bob Ross were amazing children on PBS between episodes of Reading Rainbow and Sesame Street while people were shell-shocked over Princess Diana’s death. Pluto was still classified as a planet. Wishbone was a Jack Russel Terrier that reenacted famous literary adventures.

Germany was being cajoled into reunifying after Mr. Gorbachev agreed to take the wall down. Namibia was a new country and no longer part of South Africa. We were losing our minds over photos from the brand new Hubble Space Telescope. Yugoslavia existed. Czechoslovakia was splitting. We were learning to call the USSR “Russia” again. Yemen was being unified. The Human Genome Project had just been announced. The Cold War was finally over!

Meanwhile, my mom worked as a project manager at Intel specifically tasked with replacing and/or reprogramming any and all Intel computer software with extended time stamps past 1999, for the entire technological world. You’re here, right now, reading this very post in part thanks to her and her team’s exhaustive years of work to change and update the entire world’s software. If it required anything from Intel to function or had to co-function with Intel, it was part of my mom’s job to beat the literal countdown to January 1st, 2000.

If she and her team failed, it was lights out. She was bouncing me on her knee while fielding calls from everywhere from Silicon Valley, California, to London, England, to Beirut, Lebanon, to Tokyo, Japan. My every day around her was nothing but tech-talk when it was actually in English. Those incredibly intelligent, clever, gifted men and women from around the world spared not a single second for themselves when it came to their singular, united focus on stopping Y2K from bringing the entire global economy and communications to their knees.

My mom didn’t take maternity leave with my baby brother in 1998; she telecommuted instead in order to keep working. When she would go on business trips almost every week, she would bring me back plush toys of dolls in clean-room Intel Bunny Suits instead of stuffed animals. Stopping Y2K was too important.

And you know what happened? Nothing. 2000 rolled around, and the first thing to start were conspiracy theories that Y2K had been made up, or that Y2K itself had been its own conspiracy theory to trick users into buying new computers and software. In fact, the people responsible for preventing Y2K turned an impending global disaster into what is now known as “the first challenge of the 21st century successfully met.“

And yet, to this very day, the real people responsible for fixing everything before it had a chance to break go unmentioned and unrecognized. They never received fanfare or thanks, but scrutiny and skepticism instead. Can you imagine doing a job so well and so efficiently that the entire modern world either ignored you, or even got pissed at you because things didn’t fall apart? Their children - me included - grew up steeped in the understanding and fear that if we tried to demand more attention from them, we were stopping them from saving the world as we knew it.

So, as you finish reading this, I ask you to go out there and learn about “The 2038 Problem”. While it’s being handled differently thanks to the precedent my mom and her fellow badass, dedicated teammates set, it still has to be handled in time, just like Y2K. The original team may have been left to disappear into obscurity, so the very least we can do is thank the hard-working people that are toiling away as we speak to keep the lights on again in 2038.

[ask-the-crimson-king]

On Writing, Art, and Creativity

Hello.

My apologies for this being another "behind the curtain" post written by the mysterious hermit who runs this blog, but I have some things I would like to articulate.

This post is more than likely going to be deleted within a day or so of it being up, but I'm going to write it regardless and maybe others will get something out of it.

This is going to be a bit of a reflection/maybe kind of a vent post in regards to my feelings on writing, art, and creativity in a space and environment that I frequent in my online spaces.

I will also preface and say I do not own any social media. I do not have a Twitter, nor an Instagram, nor a Facebook, nor a Bluesky, Mastodon, Pillowfort or whatever other platforms exist. The closest I have is a Discord and this blog, basically.

This will go under a readmore to prevent textwalling.

Hello and welcome to those who are curious enough to read my thoughts. Maybe we can have a discussion on this. Maybe people will tell me I'm being egotistical, I don't know.

It is no secret that I have struggled to maintain a will to be creative on this blog and my alternate. I find it difficult to even write a singular sentence or prolong a banter thread beyond four replies before I'm hitting "open in new tab" for it to hang in purgatory with the rest.

I have been taking time to reflect on why I am having such immense difficulties, and I've spoken about it with a few different humans.

I think I've finally nailed down what the issue is.

Engagement.

No, not likes or empty reblogs. Actual engagement with what I produce creatively. Comments beyond "nice job!".

Now I know; "hey, you only like things or leave empty reblogs too!" -- I am aware this is going to sound hypocritical, but hear me out for but a moment.

I do not create for me. I create for others. I create because I think that art is a conversation. It is a way for me to put things from my brain out there and for others to see a window into how I am. I create because I enjoy being able to express myself and engage with people while doing it. I do not create for clicks, I do not create for likes or notes, I create so that I can share something with others.

It takes a lot of effort for me to write something. It is genuinely something that feels Herculean to me. Writing this is lower stakes; this is not a creative piece, this is me putting my precise thoughts down into a written medium. This is me being analytical. That is second-nature to me.

But being creative, whether it be writing or even drawing, is a chore. It takes so, so much effort just to set up my tablet or open a new document. Writing a singular sentence takes an age. Rarely does it come easy. I am always nit-picking it; "this isn't catchy enough. This paragraph is too long; people aren't going to read it. This isn't splashy enough."

I have gotten to the point where I think I know how to get people to simply read what I have written, and even then, still no one reads my writings. In part this is due to my writings being a niche within a niche. I cling on to characters and concepts long since forgotten and abandoned by many, and thus there is no audience to engage with my work.

So I stop writing. I know that if I post anything over a thousand words, no one will actually read it. Most of my writings cap out at only two thousand words, with an exception being a piece I made that sits at almost five thousand that will go unpublished because no one is going to read it anyway.

Why put in so much effort if no one is going to engage with it?

I used to put in effort engaging with other people's art and writings more often. I'm trying to do it again, and I remember seeing so, so often people reblogging posts that said, "remember to reblog writing too!" and then no one does.

So I stop writing. No one reads it anyway, so what is the point in putting in the effort? Just so it can continue to be ignored?

My art gets only a few likes. Rarely more than five. I know it isn't great. AI generated pieces get hundreds of likes and reblogs that comments on how pretty it is, how gorgeous. This is not a post that is going to tell you to go back and find my art -- I do not keep tags on this blog, and genuinely my art is garbage enough that if I could find the old art posts and delete them, I would.

But then I see posts about supporting improving artists. I see people reblogging posts that say "support all forms of art", and then no one engages.

I have been trying to engage a bit more. I have been trying to leave nice comments in tags and the like, I have been trying to be more proactive in that regard again, because I know how great it feels to have that engagement as an artist. And I know I am not the only one for whom art is tortuous and arduous.

I know my biggest issue is that I write things that no one is interested in reading. I find myself occupying niche areas of interest that no one else is interested in. The only thing people want is kinky sex in their fics. People don't want to have philosophical and moral discussions in them. People don't want complicated things or fics that span more than 1200 words. I know this because I have written, or attempted to write, and post such things before. All go unread, forgotten, ignored.

It's ridiculous of me to whine and complain about fic of all things, but it is still an artform. It still takes effort. But why should I put in the effort if no one is going to even try reading it? Why should I even try, if only for someone to then turn around and tell me, "I prefer this person's writings to anyone else's currently present"?

I know my writing is not good. It is not of novel quality. Maybe I'm just an entitled old bastard. I don't know.

But it's hard being creative and trying to create art for an endless open void when you make art to make a connection.

I don't want your likes. I want your thoughts. I want your feelings. I want to know if what I have created has influenced you in any way.

I want a connection. It's why I even have an RP blog to begin with; writing collaboratively and telling a collaborative story is wonderful and amazing.

I don't know where else to go with this without being even more cyclical.

That's all for now. Maybe I'll post some more writings eventually.

[toucandrawz]

Hello!!! :D

I'm Toucan! I'm a minor, so nsfw/18+ accounts please don't interact with mine! Even if it's just liking or reblogging my stuff, it makes me uncomfortable.

I’m a he/they trans guy and prefer you use both interchangeably!

If you've seen my account before it's most definitely for my drawings of CoD MW characters as merpeople! It's so exciting to see people liking my art on here because of it, so I really hope if you like the CoD art I do I hope you like the other art i do! :D

I use #Toucan’s gay shit to tag my posts, so you'll probably be able to find all my posts under that tag! I'm also tagging my CoD merpeople designs under #mercod but it's not working like the other one? If anyone knows why that'd be helpful lol.

I have ADHD and so I get hyperfixated a lot! My most recent ones have been:

— A Night To Remember (my webtoon, Read it here or here)

— Call of Duty: Modern Warefare

— Rammstein

— My Persona

— Spooky Month

— My Hero Academia

FAQ!

1.) Q - Can I use your designs?

A - ofc! :D I love the thought of people using my designs! Please if you do use any designs i make for anything tag me!! I'd love to see it! :)

2.) Q - Can I draw your OCs?

A - Yes! But I'd prefer if the specific situation or something was run by me first, since I'm very attached to a lot of my OCs and can be quite picky about their portrayal. Please don't hesitate to DM me or ask about anything if you have any questions on their designs or personalities!

3.) Q - Do you do commissions?

A - yes! My commissions are always open unless I say otherwise! Please feel free to DM me on Tumblr or Discord (at toucan_drawz) if you have any questions about commissions or want to commission me! —> see My carrd, and dm me on discord (toucan_drawz) or reach out to my commission email (toucandrawzcommissions@gmail.com)

4.) Q - Can I use your art for my profile?

A - yes! Just please credit me by providing my account for that platform or crediting my YouTube or Tumblr. Please do not share my art as your own!! My art is very important to me and if you use it or share it for any purpose, I would like direct credit. Preferably a link, but just a username works too lol.

5.) Q - can I reference/heavy reference/trace your art?

A - using my art for referencing or tracing in a learning environment is alright. Heavily referencing is a bit of a grey area for me, if it's heavily referencing my OCs that makes me uncomfortable, please do not heavily reference or reference my OCs at all. On the other hand, if you heavily reference my art I'm a bit more okay with that. Just please credit me in all these situations. Please, do not trace and claim and of my art as your own.

6.) Q - What is your political stance?

A - left. So far left. My blog/account is a safe space for everyone and everything, except racism, homophobia, transphobia, zionism*, nazi ideology, and anything along those lines. I don't care if you think that ANYONE doesn't deserve to live based on a stupid ass principle of religion, race, gender identity, or sexual orientation. If you think that, get the fuck off my page and block me. Thank you.

*By Zionism I am in no way referring to being okay with anti-Semitism. By Zionism, I'm talking about the people who justify the genocide of Palestinians because of zionism. Please, do your daily clicks. And if you can, donate. (I also have another blog dedicated to Palestine, so almost all reblogs or links can be found there :])

7.) Q - Can I repost your art?

A - Please don't repost my art unless credit is given/you link to one of my accounts! Please don't repost my art without my watermark (the TD signature) or with it cropped in pretty much any way. I'd prefer it wasn't resposted at all, but if you do please add credit! My art is something I hold very dear to my heart and something I value a lot.

8.) Q - What program/tablet/brush do you use?

A - I use multiple programs! Mainly procreate for a lot of the things I post, with that I use an Apple Pencil (1st gen) and a 9th gen iPad. For the brush, I usually use the teyoid lineart brush that I got off Pinterest, and the hard round brush for shading and coloring. I also use CSP (Clip Studio Paint), especially when I draw on PC, with a pc I use a Gaomon PD1161 . And for the brushes, I mostly use this peachy’s somewhat dry ink brush for lineart, and then the default g-pen for coloring/shading.

9.) Q - do you have other social medias/where can I find you?

A - I do! I have a plethora of other socials, you can find me almost anywhere under Toucan Drawz, Toucan_Drawz, or anything along those lines! I don’t have specific links, since, well, I think I have too many socials to count. But I’m most active on tumblr out of all the socials medias that aren’t basically a messaging app (looking at you, discord).

10.) Q - Can i recreate your art?

A - No, please don’t. My art is very dear to me, and I don’t want it recreated. Imo recreation is different to tracing (in a learning environment) or heavily referencing, because it’s basically just remaking something, but changing it a little or not changing it at all. Even if it’s with a different medium, it makes me uncomfortable. Using the same pose/scene idea is absolutely okay! And if my art makes you feel inspired enough to want to, I’m glad! :D But please, do not recreate my art.

[kayerarajpoot]

What Makes A Digital Marketing Agency Profitable Today?

Every day, we admire successful digital marketing agencies in Bangalore, with their creative campaigns and clients lining up to partner with them. But have you ever paused to consider what it is that makes a digital marketing agency in Bangalore truly profitable in today's market conditions? As someone who's spent more than a decade in this industry, I'm excited to share my insights with you.

Importance of Digital Marketing

In a world where our morning coffees are incomplete without scrolling through our social media feeds, the importance of digital marketing is akin to the importance of that precious caffeine in our mugs. Ah, remember when our grandparents told us stories not scrolling through their Instagram feeds but with a newspaper in hand? Those days are as long gone as the dinosaurs now.

My neighbor's cat could probably launch an Instagram page and amass more followers than a brick-and-mortar store would attract in foot traffic. Such is the gripping power of digital marketing. It holds the potential to reach more audiences, convert more leads, and build brand loyalty like never before. Simply put - digital marketing is the LeBron James of marketing, powerful, hard to ignore, and let’s admit it, the GOAT in the game.

Are Digital Marketing Agencies Profitable Businesses?

A question is as old as the practice itself. Have you been sitting on the edge of starting a digital marketing agency but wondering about the profitability? Picture this, seated comfortably in your chair, creating optimized and impactful campaigns, with the cat snoozing beside you. Sounds like a dream? That can be your reality.

Digital marketing, my friend, is akin to the gold rush of the 21st Century. Except, of course, we're not panning for gold but chasing algorithms, engagement rates, and conversion metrics. With businesses globally embracing digital platforms, the potential to earn from this venture is only getting hotter than my grandma's saucepan. Toss in some unique strategies and a pinch of 'know-how,' and voila, you've cooked up a profitable digital marketing agency.

How to choose the Best Digital Marketing Agency in Bangalore for your Business

Sweating over Google's SERPs (Search Engine Result Page)  trying to find the best digital marketing agency in Bangalore? Ah, I feel you. The process can be as messy as attempting to make a Thanksgiving turkey from scratch without a recipe. But fresher up, I've got a roadmap.

Check their digital presence. It's like an artist's portfolio, the proof of the pudding as they say.

Review their previous work. If they managed to turn Joe's backyard lemonade stand into a global brand, imagine what they could do for you.

Introduce yourself to their team. You are handing over your brand's reins, you deserve to know who's in the driver’s seat.

Know their techniques. Some might play Mozart on a grand piano; others are belting out rock anthems on an electric guitar. You need to pick whose tune you want to dance to.

How Does A Digital Marketing Agency Become Profitable?

Let's dive right in, no messing around: the digital marketing world isn't a kiddy pool. It's an immense, ever-changing ocean, fraught with unseen predators—and some truly incredible treasures. Rule number one: clichés are like plastic polluting the waters. Avoid them or be lost in the depths.

Instead, aim for the unexpected. Those "aha!" moments that get clients clicking and sharing. Dancing with joy because they've found your needle in the digital haystack.

Strong Client Relationships: Building strong client relationships is essential for the long-term success and profitability of a digital marketing agency. By establishing trust and delivering exceptional results, agencies can foster long-term partnerships and a steady stream of repeat clients.

Learn and Adapt: Digital marketing is constantly changing. Profitable agencies invest in continuous learning and stay up-to-date with the latest trends, algorithms, and best practices. By adapting their strategies and approaches, these agencies can deliver superior results and maintain their competitiveness.

Efficient Resource Allocation: Effective resource allocation is crucial for profitability. Digital marketing agencies need to strike a balance between their human resources, tools, and investments in various marketing channels. By optimizing their resource allocation, agencies can maximize their efficiency and profitability.

Innovation and Creativity: Profitable digital marketing agencies in Bangalore understand the importance of innovation and creativity. They continuously strive to provide unique and captivating campaigns that capture the attention of their target audience. By thinking outside the box and exploring new ideas, these agencies can differentiate themselves from the competition and attract high-value clients.

Conclusion

In conclusion, digital marketing agencies play a vital role in driving the success and profitability of businesses in today's digital world. By harnessing the power of digital marketing techniques and leveraging their expertise, these agencies help businesses reach their target audience, build brand recognition, and ultimately drive sales. When choosing a digital marketing agency in Bangalore, it is essential to consider factors such as experience, services offered, client references, communication, and tailored strategies. Additionally, for a digital marketing agency to become profitable, strong client relationships, continual learning and adaptation, efficient resource allocation, and a focus on innovation and creativity are crucial. By embracing these factors, digital marketing agencies can thrive in today's competitive landscape and deliver exceptional results for their clients.

[apolitenarcissist]

How to spot fake Vivienne Westwood 🪐

As a person who sells and buys from online platforms and apps such as Vinted, Wallapop, Ebay and Etsy, I’ve encountered my fair shade of counterfeit luxury items. Although this phenomenon is very common for renown brands (such as Gucci, Prada, Dior etc) I’ve never seen such high rate of fake products as I did for Vivievve Westwood. Often, this merch can look very, very similar to the original design to an inattentive eye, which can lead many people to buy a copy for an exorbitant amount of money. Since scammers make my rage flare, I want to make a guide for online buyers on how to spot a fake VW jewel.

1. the price seems too good to be true? it is.

first thing first: keep an eye on the price. if there is an item that the original site is selling for 140€, it is unlikely that one specific seller online is giving away one for 40€. especially if it’s marked as “new”, there is no way they could’ve paid it less than the price they’re selling it at. it’s better to look for products with a price that is more trustworthy: for example, for a necklace sold at 140€ on the official website, it would be legit to find a new item for 115-135€ and a used item for about 100-115€. of course there are exceptions to this rule, many people may be eager to sell away unwanted gifts or stuff they don’t use anymore, but they would never drop the price to 1/3. here below, an example:

2. no logo on the necklace clasp? red flag.

the high majority of Vivienne Westwood’s necklaces (if not all) share this common trait: the clasp presents the iconic orb logo. all the clasps are usually refined, and likely present themselves in a almost-rectangular shape, rather than the most common drop. so, if these characteristics lack, something’s probably off. zoom in on the pictures below to notice the difference from a fake and the real thing.

3. two bigger hoops? good sign.

this rule may have exceptions of course, but usually Vivienne Westwood colliers that include a chain present on it two bigger hoops that makes it easier for the clasp to close, making it possible to choose from two different lengths. this is especially valid when talking about necklaces found in the women’s category rather than men’s and unisex jewelry. notice in the two pics below how the first one checks for the clasp but not for the hoops.

4. tag? yes please.

when buying a Vivienne Westwood necklace or bracelet, keep an eye on the tag of the chain: first of all, it has to be present. no matter if the seller tells you they cut it off themselves to better balance the pendant, it’s a red flag. second, there must be no outline, just the clear and legible VW signatures, on both sides (usually one with the orb). third, it has to hand from the last hoop, not in the middle of the chain.

5. you may not buy a products for its packaging, but oh doesn’t it help?

what? they’re selling you an item but not the dustbag and the box because they already sold them? it’s likely a scam. of course there are people who will buy just the package to add to their collection or to scam other buyers with their fake cheap items, but what good would it be for an honest seller to ship the jewelry without its case? so, be careful and give your trust to who assured you you’ll get a dustbag, a box, and a certificate. and also, regarding the packaging, you have to remember:

a. there is only one original dustbag, all the others are likely fake: it is beige with the black orb logo and black ribbon.

b. it doesn’t matter if they show you an online receipt, they can be easily falsified.

c. it doesn’t matter if in the picture of the article they show you they own the dustbag and box, because they likely belong to another jewel in their possession.

unfortunately, there are online platforms that sell fake vivienne westwood items with boxes and bags included that look very alike to the original ones. be careful with those and try apply the other rules to discern scam from legit.

6. the online platform you’re buying it from is a business card for the product you’ll get.

don’t get me wrong, I love Etsy, you can find a whole lot of incredibly talented artists on there what will sell you exquisite items, but is it a good choice when you’re looking for authentic luxury jewelry? usually sites as Etsy and Aliexpress or even Amazon will sell you fake design jewelry, but often making you very aware of the fact it’s a fraud. at times it’s flagged as “style” Vivienne Westwood and it has a very low price (for example 10-20€). so, be aware, what you pay for is what you’ll be receiving. then, what platforms can I trust? of course the original Vivienne Westwood’s website, but also here’s a list of the sites and apps I personally find trustworthy and from which I’ve bought VW’s jewelry:

- Farfetch (new)

- Zalando (new)

- Vestiaire Collective (new and vintage)

also, a lot of apps that sell second hand goods are developing a new service that offers an evaluation from experts before the item gets shipped to you. for example, Vinted has this service available for 10€ for articles worth 100€+ of certain brands (VW included), and they will refund you the whole price of the merch, shipping and evaluation if it turns out to be a fraud.

thank you for reading this far and safe shopping y’all! if this post becomes popular enough, I’ll do a part 2.

[elfwreck]

It’s so awful how bullying has come back in fashion especially on the internet and with young people like I can remember when I was being bullied growing up just for being in fandom or caring too much or being weird or whatever and for one second we thought that was over and now I have friends even just a year younger than me bullying entire groups of people like furries or older people in fandom or whatever and when I ask for an explanation they just go “oh it’s because some members of (1/2)

(2/2) the community are cringe or weird or creepy or whatever” and it’s like when did this become an excuse when did we regress so far in our society that it becomes okay to treat people like this and I went off social media maybe six months ago or something and I return every now and again just to check up on friends and I have no idea how I was ever on there people are just so mean anyways sorry this is just me rambling but yeah

Bullying has, unfortunately, always been in fashion. Harassing people who are different has always been a mainstream activity. What's come back is that it's easy - and the internet has become a "mainstream" place, instead of being mostly managed by outcasts who had sympathy for other outcasts.

Social platform providers have given up on preventing it - and often decided to penalize the targets if they complain.

It's an easy rut to get stuck in - there's something very validating about saying "X is fucked-up" and hearing a chorus of replies saying "yeah, it sure is!" And it can be hard to notice that the entire community is built around that dynamic, that they have no foundation of support or mutual appreciation or creative exchange; it's all just "sharing" memes about who they hate most right now.

It's a high-energy ride... until you find yourself sympathizing with one of the targets. Or until you realize you might be one of the targets, if anyone knew you well.

In communities that try to get away from that, they can wind up leaning too far into the "everyone be nice" goal and forbid criticism of anything, even the things that really are problems.

Sometimes they have a short list: It's okay to criticize people with some list of specific traits. But that winds up in the same place, eventually... because there is no list of traits or specific actions that make people Irredeemably Evil Forever, and eventually, someone notices that the "friendly" community is not morally superior to the hatefest; it just has fewer acceptable targets.

…I get along better with the "toxic hatefest" communities than the "we will be NICE TO EVERYONE except for THOSE SPECIFIC PEOPLE" communities. I've seen toxic hatefest communities get bored and start having serious discussions; I've never seen one of the others grow more benevolent over time.

"Each of us from the moment of his or her birth exists in an environment in which it is easy to do evil and hard to do good.... If I know somebody very well, in ten minutes, if I set my mind to it, I could perhaps say to them things so cruel, so destructive, that they would never forget them for the rest of their life. But could I in ten minutes say things so beautiful, so creative, that they would never forget them?"

[Bishop Kallistos Ware, in "Image and Likeness: An Interview with Bishop Kallistos Ware," ParaboaT, Spring 1985, pp. 62-71; on pp. 66-67.]

A community can't hate its way into being supportive and compassionate to the people who deserve care.

[dumbestthingiveeverheard]

Dumbest Thing I've Ever Heard: 7/28/2023

Fifth Place: Elon Musk

It seems like every day Elon has done something worthy of getting a spot on this list. Just today, Media Matters published an article with the headline "Elon Musk reinstated a Twitter account that shared child sexual abuse imagery as the company desperately attempts to attract advertisers." You see, Musk decided to reinstate the account of a right-wing conspiracy theorist named Dom Lucre, who was suspended for posting images of child sexual abuse?

Musk has previously promised to take a zero tolerance policy against those who post the abuse of children on his platform--unless you have the right political views, that is.

Fourth Place: Josh Hawley

"Josh Hawley’s Immediate Reaction to New Charges Against Trump? Demanding Biden ‘Tell Us Whether or Not He’s a Crook’" ran a headline on the website Mediaite today. Even ignoring the blatant changing of the topic by Senator Hawley from Trump to Biden, it's not as if Hawley would believe Biden if he were to declare he isn't a crook. Richard Nixon did exactly that in 1973, and the majority of people who thought he was a crook before that speech still thought he was one after--in fact, the amount of people who had a negative opinion of him actually increased after he declared he wasn't the thing he was being accused of.

Third Place: Marjorie Taylor Greene

Congressman Robert Garcia correctly pointed out the issue with her call for decorum during a hearing yesterday by simply tweeting "Marjorie needs to remember she showed us a dick pic last week." A naked picture of the son of the President, to be exact, which she was using to make some point that was not understood by anybody except her and her insane supporters.

Let's not forget that this is the same woman who has called the entire Democratic Party pro-grooming. This is the same woman who has shared Q-Anon posts accusing powerful people of being pedophiles with no evidence and the woman who said that Nancy Pelosi should be hanged for treason. The notion that this woman has any right to talk about either decorum or decency is utterly laughable at best and insulting to the intelligence of the American people at worst.

Second Place: Mike Huckabee

Speaking on Fox and Friends today, Huckabee defended Trump by saying:

People look at this and they say, wait a minute, let me see if I get this right. You do a raid on his home over some pieces of paper.

Well--yeah, if those pieces of paper are top secret documents the person who has them kept refusing to return to the point where that's your only option, that actually sounds like a pretty smart idea. What are you expecting them to do, just forget about the documents because actually attempting to retrieve them might look silly if you boil them down to such a simplistic degree?

Winner: Christopher Rufo

This man somehow got an article in the New York Times yesterday with the headline "D.E.I. Programs are Getting in the Way of Liberal Education." In it, Rufo makes this terribly moronic statement:

The most significant question looming over this debate is one that, unfortunately, has rarely been posed by either critics or supporters of D.E.I. programs: What is the purpose of a university? For most of the classical liberal tradition, the purpose of the university was to produce scholarship in pursuit of the true, the good and the beautiful. The university was conceived as a home for a community of scholars who pursued a variety of disciplines, but were united in a shared commitment to inquiry, research and debate, all directed toward the pursuit of the highest good, rather than the immediate interests of partisan politics. Today, many universities have consciously or unconsciously abandoned that mission and replaced it with the pursuit of diversity, equity and inclusion. Many D.E.I. programs seem to be predicated on a view radically different from the liberal tradition: namely, that the university is not merely a home for the discovery of knowledge, but also a vehicle for activism, liberation and social change.

This is a false dichotomy if I have ever heard one: Hey Chris, what do you think scholars are supposed to do with the truth? Use them to figure out if society needs to be changed and in what way, and be willing to take active part in that process. This is why so many academics end up as aides to major politicians or as commentators, because the entire point of having the truth is to spread it around as much as possible--a truth not worth spreading is not worth knowing.

Christopher Rufo, you've said the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

[iamgrowingstronger-blog]

Frogger Returns

Platform: Nintendo Wii (WiiWare)

Time Played: ~7 hours

It’s a fun little challenge game. It’s not groundbreaking, but I think it fulfills a decent niche as a dinky little game you can play on your own trying to conquer the Arcade mode, or as a quick burst of entertainment with friends. Both stand on their own as being perfectly okay. 

The game consists of four levels: The Big City, The Subway, The Sewers, and The Swamp. You must hop to the end five times without dying to the many dangers to frogs, such as toxic sewage and giant rats that blend into the background. You’ve gotta really squint to see them. 

The game’s tough, beating those four levels took me a while. I was certainly nervous every time I got to the final level. You’re always timed, too, so you can’t be too slow about it. The most irritating part are the log crossings at the end, because you always have to go against the current trying to get to one of the far exits. It’s a real annoying task of positioning yourself just right. Everything else in the stage can be pretty annoying too, but that’s the one that sticks out the most.

You have power-ups to help you along the way though. I don’t even remember what most of them do.. except for the gold star one. Full invincibility. You can walk on water, go through all manner of snakes, rats, trains, and cars. It’s a free ticket to the end if you mash hard enough. It’s way better than all the rest, which goes to show the power-ups are wildly unbalanced. 

The game doesn’t even have an ending. Once you beat the first four stages in Arcade mode, you just get sent back in a loop. What’s Frogger doing this all for? Why’d he go back to the Big City after coming home to The Swamp? By the way, I beat this game with the music off. I didn’t realize I had it off until the very end, I just thought the game was intentionally weirdly quiet. The only sounds were my hops, the screeching of trains, and the squeaks of mice. A minor slip-up on my part. 

Anyway, the Multiplayer is a pretty fun mode too. You and some other lucky frog-kin share a screen trying to see who can get 3 of the 5 exits reached first. What makes it a good mode is that if you hop on your opponent frog, they immediately die. That’s the one thing that makes it fun for multiplayer. It gets old after a while, but it’s a pretty fun moment to share. 

Score: 5/10. It’s a very decent game. Not one I really wanna pick up again, I beat it and now I’m done with it. Just a truly average experience. 

Subjectivity level: Low, you probably won’t get many varying opinions from people.

[dreamperson-poll]

Skeleton god

dreamed by @tuulikannel

An evil skeleton god. (I'm honestly sharing this more for the whole story than this character. Cause I want to tell this story... it's long, but bear with me, I think it's overall one of the best dreams I've ever had. If not the best.)

The dream started with me and my school class being kidnapped and taken to an island. We were in this big auditorium where the kidnappers were explaining to us what was going on (I don't remember any details, though) and they were pretending(?) to be very kind and said we had nothing to worry. I remember thinking at that point something like "yeah, right, anyone who's seen Death Note should be worried by now." (I think the dream-me confused Death Note with Battle Royale there.)

Anyway, then some boys found guns somewhere and they killed all the kidnappers. We were left alone on this farmyard (farmyard that has an auditorium? Well, it's a dream.) There were some cows and horses out in the pasture, and we decided to take the horses in. I was thinking about riding around (with the pretty dapple grey! <3) to see if I'd find anything, but the bridle was all in pieces and I couldn’t put it back together.

Then (after an interlude at my grandparents’ house, involving panties with similar patterns as on one of my mother's nightgowns - wtf brain?) the dream changed a bit. We were still on this island. We weren't a school class anymore, though, but apparently belonged to the US navy. (For the record, I’m not American.) Our ship had sunk close to this island and now we were stuck there.

We were all searching through the area, and I came to this weird place where there were all kinds of … wooden … things … statues…? on sandy ground. I don't remember it too clearly. There were, among other things, two big doors, but there were no walls around them, just the doors standing there. There were signs above them that were some kind of riddles, and apparently those riddles told you where the doors led, but I didn't dare to go through them as I couldn't decipher the riddles. There were also things hanging from the air… and this big platform that had stairs leading up to it - that also hung in the air. I almost started climbing up there, but hesitated and poked it a little first. It started swinging, and only then I noticed that there was this wooden chair on top of it, and there was a skeleton sitting in the chair. (For some reason, even though I was looking at it from the ground, I could see it from above.) I expected that the skeleton would wall into pieces as the platform kept on swinging harder and harder, but instead it suddenly woke up and started laughing. I dove into cover hoping it hadn't noticed me.

Apparently this was some kind of an ancient evil god, and I had just woken it. Go me. (I don’t know how I knew that, I just did, at the moment.)

Anyway, then we suddenly found some other people on the island, natives. They knew something about this skeleton god, but I don't think they told us much. Just something about storms that had been more and more frequent lately. We were asking them how we'd get away from there, but they said no one came close to this island because of the skeleton god except for one Inuit woman who sometimes was fishing close by. Right then one of us noticed her, and when we shouted she came closer so that we could talk to her. (She had a weird boat. It looked like a pedal boat.) (And this, btw, was a tropical island, so why the heck was there some Inuit fishing around there?)

We asked her to take us away, but she didn't say anything. One of us said that we'd pay her, of course, ten dollars per person, or hundred… or thousand, as she still was hesitating. (At this point our leader yelled at the one making the offers to take it easy, we didn't have that kind of money.) Now, the Inuit said that she had had dreams about a young man with mohawk who'd defeat the evil god. She was looking straight at me. (For the record, I’m not male, nor do I have a mohawk… but apparently I did, in the dream. Even tho I was in the army?) Unfortunately, at this point my alarm went off, so we’ll never find out how I defeated that skeleton thingy on its swinging platform.