#my local Asian place quit carrying them too

[seabeck]

The price tag only said octopus, god I despise wasabi

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

If it’s alright, I have a question about Vil and Epel’s relationship. I understand that the accent changing plot line is just a cultural politeness thing that didn’t carry over outside of Japan, but the other parts of changing Epel’s behavior don’t quite make sense.

Why exactly is Epel being forced to call macarons his favorite food? And act very soft-spoken? I can’t see how these fit in with the politeness aspect of the table manners, no abrasive language, etc. It just doesn’t give a very good impression, especially in combination with the unfortunate implication of giving Epel a Southern accent for the “change your accent” plot point.

Before I get to responding to the questions posed by this ask, allow me to explain for those who may not be familiar with this controversy! This is so we can all go into reading this post from the same starting point.

I've made titles to denote the explanation of background knowledge and to denote responding to the questions actually asked to me! If you're already familiar with the Vil-Epel-accent debacle then feel free to skip the first section!

Disclaimer: I’m speaking on these concepts as I personally understand them. However, I am not a native Japanese speaker so I’d advise that you consult additional resources with a better understanding of the language and culture. Two resources I enjoy are Yuurei and MysteryShopTLs, who have both also addressed Epel’s accent and how it was localized.

The Accent, EN vs JP

It’s well-known that Epel is a character with a heavy accent who has been explicitly told by Vil, his dorm leader, to alter the way he speaks. In EN, Epel speaks with what appears to be a southern (as in, “from the southern United States”) accent. Therefore, when Vil tells him to stop speaking in the accent, it feels as though Vil is shaming him for his southern roots and culture. This has also led to fans (especially of the EN-only sphere) thinking that Vil believes Epel’s accent is “unrefined” and “makes him sound uncouth/uneducated”, which is why Vil tells Epel to cover it up. I have even received asks conveying as much in the past (here is one example).

In the original JP, Epel speaks in a way that does not closely resemble any real-world Japanese dialect but rather a blend of them. If you ask a native Japanese speaker, they would likely tell you that it is difficult to understand what Epel is saying and that it sounds as though he is speaking rudely or too casually. People could genuinely take offense to the accent because it can be mistaken as something else entirely. This is obviously very different than the real-world accent (which many people can still understand and wouldn’t perceive as rude) that Epel was localized to have. The decision to give him a southern accent, then, does not completely carry over its original JP connotations into EN.

What remains the same in both EN and JP is the reason Vil provides for telling Epel to adjust the way he communicates. As he says in EN, “Speak properly" to which Epel immediately assumes the command comes from a place of elitism/classism and Vil thinking Epel's manner of speaking is beneath him. Vil responds with, "Stop misinterpreting my instructions. I have nothing against your home or its dialect. What I object to is your attitude. Being proud of your home is all well and good, but there is a time and a place for that. The way you address your superiors is entirely unacceptable." (Keep in mind that before this, Epel was the one instigating a fight with Vil and subsequently got his ass whooped for disrespecting an upperclassman. As the victor, he declares that Epel must do as he says--that's the "culture" of NRC. The weak obey the strong, so if Epel wants to do whatever he wants, then Vil challenges him to beat Epel in a fight. Until then, the loser must obey the winner. Epel agrees to these conditions.) This may be a little hard for western English speakers to wrap their heads around, but MANY Asian countries, Japan included, run on a hierarchical system which is embedded even into their languages. Japanese, for example, has honorifics to denote the relationship between the speaker and the listener, as well as variations on the same word depending on the context ("boku", "ore", "watashi", "atashi", etc. are all valid ways to refer to oneself, "onii-san", "onii-sama", "aniki", "kyodai", etc. are all ways to refer to a brother, whether blood-related or not). In some cases, it's considered rude to call others by their first name unless you know them well, and even then it's not common to see a first name without an honorific. This is not as strictly adhered to in English, which is perhaps where a cultural disconnect occurs. What Vil is referring to in his instructions to Epel is what is known in the world of linguistics as "code switching", or changing how one communicates to suit the situation. Part of code switching is changing one's "register", or the level of formality you use. So for example, I could use a colloquial/casual register when I speak with my friends, but I may shift to a more polite and formal register when I speak with my professors, a boss, or an older relative. Vil, then, is critiquing Epel for not speaking politely to his seniors (something which is expected in Japanese culture, but not expected among those in similar grade levels in western cultures).

In the Harveston Sledathon event, we get to venture to Epel's hometown and hear how the locals speak. Indeed, we get more instances of people who speak in the same way Epel does. It's the Harveston dialect, which is so distinctive that it basically sounds like a whole different language. (There are also languages like this in real life; consider Mandarin and Cantonese; technically they are both "Chinese" but Mandarin and Cantonese speakers would not be able to comprehend one another even if they use the same written language). However, it's notable that Marja (Epel's grandmother) and the mayor of Harveston are able to code switch flawlessly into a more standardized tongue. They explain that this is a skill they have developed because it helps in communicating with tourists/visitors to the village and for whenever they travel to the nearby city to sell their wares. This reinforces Vil's point that there is a "time and place" for certain ways of speaking, which Epel needs to consider.

Macarons and Soft-Spokeness

Accent thing aside, some English-speaking fans take issue with Vil's stern treatment of Epel, particularly in instances in which Vil seems to be exerting significant control over his underclassman's behaviors. (Japanese-speaking fans largely do not hold the same sentiment.) Examples of this include Vil forcing Epel to state that his favorite food is macarons, as well as making Epel present as soft-spoken even when he's just among his peers. I will now be addressing both of these points. TO BE CLEAR, I am NOT trying to defend Vil but rather I'm just going to speculate about why the circumstances are the way that they are and/or why perceptions of his attitude may differ.

Starting with macarons! It is stated in Epel's official profile and by Epel himself in his Birthday Boy vignettes that his favorite food is yakiniku (Japanese grilled meat). However, macarons are also listed as his favorite food, and this is notable because he's the only character with two foods listed instead of just one. In the aforementioned Birthday Boy vignettes, Epel is quick to qualify his love of meats with, "Well, I do have one thing I like even more. It's, ah, macarons." When asked what he likes about them, he says, "They're... cute. And sweet! And they come in lots of different flavors." His voice here sounds hesitant, so it's not clear whether he's being entirely honest or not. He even admits in a whisper that, "[Macarons] are not very filling, but still." Epel again complains about macarons being good but not very filling when he has some in the City of Flowers/Fleur City. To this, Azul asks, "Why do you look so unimpressed, Epel? I thought macarons were your favorite food. [...] But was my intel mistaken? Would you prefer something with a stronger flavor profile?" Epel insists he is fine, and Azul responds with, "Excellent, then my intel bears out." This creates some confusion over whether Epel actually likes macarons or not. I doubt that the information Azul has on others is inaccurate. Plus, Epel states of his own free will to the player (who is interviewing him) that he also likes macarons. This leads me to believe that while Epel doesn't outright hate macarons, he does like them alright (but still prefers grilled meat more). The only thing he seems to have an issue with is how unsubstantial macarons are as a food item.

Now... why does Vil make him state that macarons are his favorite food instead of grilled meat? It's sort of touched on in Epel's Ceremonial Robes vignettes. In them, Vil chides Epel for his poor table manners and asks him to state his favorite food. Epel responds with grilled meat/barbeque, which earns him a smack from his dorm leader. (Vil actually smacks Epel multiple times in these vignettes as punishment, which ended up being another source of ire in the English-speaking part of the fandom; such a thing is more common in Asia and its media, so it's not seen as too outrageous in Japan.) "Do my ears deceive me?" Vil says. "I could've sworn I heard a word unfit to be spoken in this noble dorm. I will ask you again. As a student of Pomefiore–a dorm founded upon the tenacity of the Fairest Queen–what is your favorite food?" From this dialogue, it can be surmised that Vil's reasoning for drilling the macarons in as Epel's favorite food is because it is something that is more befitting of the regal "image" of the Fairest Queen and the dorm made in her honor. Vil seems to regard grilled meat as an inelegant food which does not suit the Fairest Queen nor Pomefiore.

The second thing the asker brought up is Epel's soft-spokeness. I guess I'm a little confused by this??? Soft-spokeness is a part of being polite; it ties back to volume control (ie "indoor voice" being softer than "outdoor voice"). I also don't recall a specific instance of Vil chastising Epel for NOT being soft-spoken at all times. He allows Epel to be loud sometimes and raises his voice himself. I feel like volume is not something that Vil harps on as much as other things like cursing or speaking politely to the correct authority figures (unless, of course, volume is important to the level of politeness required for the current conversation). I could be wrong on this though, so please let me know if you know of any specific instances of Vil being mad about Epel speaking loudly that I may have missed! What I do find odd is how... consistently (?) Epel tries to keep polite even when Vil is not around to monitor him. When Vil and Epel first met, Vil makes it clear that there is a "time and place" for Epel's accent, and it's not when addressing seniors. So... by the logic, shouldn't Vil be okay with Epel acting more relaxed or rowdy around first years or more casual settings in general? Why does Epel need to maintain the facade of being polite even when not in the presence of his superiors? Why does Epel seem to even act fearful about word of his misbehavior/rudeness getting back to his dorm leader and even make others swear they won't divulge the incidents to Vil?

One theory I'll propose is the entirety of book 5. Vil was insistent then on having Epel in the NRC Tribe. He wanted to weaponize Epel's cuteness, which he believed could compete with his long-time rival, Neige. This probably fed into Vil's demands for Epel to appear and act dainty and innocent, traits which Neige effortlessly possesses. Vil literally even refers to Epel as his "Poison Apple" that will help him defeat Neige. After book 5, Vil seems to have eased up on his rigidity. However, I will caution that this explanation may or may not align well with vignettes and/or event stories, which do not always work in a cohesive timeline with the main story.

Perhaps a more all-encompassing explanation is... this is probably because Vil is just very strict about how his dorm members present themselves at all times, since they are expansions of Pomefiore and of himself as the leader. Both the macarons and Epel's attitude are reflections of the dorm he (a celebrity who is very aware of the public eyes on him + his reputation) is affiliated with, and Vil won't have them poorly represented. He is the dorm leader, so he has the "right" to rule and impose his ideals as he sees fit. It's a similar situation to Riddle forcing the Heartslabyul students to follow silly, nonsensical rules (because they're tradition) or risk a scolding or a beheading. And again, Epel is following along because (as established in book 5), he has agreed to submit to Vil’s orders until he beats Vil in combat.

At the end of the day, I don't think Epel being forced to call macarons his favorite food is a huge deal. Is anything that big lost in claiming you like something that isn't your actual favorite food? It's not like Vil is forcing Epel to claim he likes eating something that would actually harm him (like, if Epel had an almond allergy or something).

What's more dubious is how VIl governs Epel's attitude and temperament at seemingly all times (to the point of eliciting some apprehension from Epel). Given the most generous reading, maybe it's Vil's way of teaching Epel maturity and how to keep his voice down since Epel had zero of it and acted loudly brazen when he first enrolled. It doesn't help Epel if he's quiet and well-mannered in very limited social situations; it has to be "generalized" or expand to other scenarios for Vil's lessons to truly be instilled in him. (Like... what would happen if Vil DIDN'T hold Epel in check? His classmates would not be able to understand Epel's speech, and he might get into trouble by picking fights with others.) This is a life skill that Epel lacks, unlike his grandma and the Harveston mayor, and Vil's teaching it to him via "tough love" (though whether you approve of his methods or not is up to interpretation). Recall that Vil also teaches Epel to embrace femininity as its own strength and to disregard outdated gender norms--this could be considered another "lesson". I doubt that anything Vil imposes is done maliciously, but rather comes from a place of wanting others to be better and to shine their brightest, even if that path is difficult or painful. Epel, as the rebel in this circumstance, of course does not enjoy being told what to do and misbehaves in small ways. There’s a limit on how much he can misbehave though, as it would hurt his pride to be reminded of his failure to one-up Vil. He's like a kid that doesn't want to be caught cussing or acting out by his parent. It can be seen as immaturity and an unwillingness to change or to grow up, but it can also be seen as someone who wants to freely be able to express themselves or to be their "truest" self. Epel is rowdy and headstrong, and it's difficult for him to repress these parts of himself. Given the least generous reading, Vil is oppressing and stifling Epel in many ways that extend beyond what his dorm leader position should reasonably allow him to do. In fact, a popular fan translation for book 5 is "The Beautiful Oppressor", as Vil is frequently shown limiting the liberties of his NRC Tribe members during their training arc, not just Epel's.

Which is the truth here? Why do those in the English side of the fandom decry Vil's actions and side with Epel whereas the Japanese side see little issue with this?

I wager that this predominantly comes down to, again, cultural differences. Many English-speaking fans are based in the west (particularly the USA and Canada, where the EN servers first launched), places which emphasize individuality and self-expression. Of course they would be more likely to take Epel's side, as he's the one trying to be himself and stand out in his own way. Meanwhile collectivism--an ideology which stresses conformity with a group--dominates in the east. They are more likely to see no problems with Vil's actions because, to them, he is acting in the ways he is to "guide" Epel and show him how to best "fit in" with Pomefiore and at NRC. I believe the whole "being soft-spoken" thing also ties back to cultural differences; speaking loudly is something else that can be considered rude in Japan, so it's entirely possible that Vil encouraging Epel to be soft-spoken is another element of politeness that did not translate well to English (as the western world tends to be much louder and more animated in their conversations).

What it boils down to is that the way Vil and Epel's relationship was written did not work well for a western audience, whose values and perspective is VERY different from the original audience TWST had. It appeals far more to a Japanese fanbase than a western one, and has resulted in many misunderstandings or anger about Vil's character because of this.

I'm not sure if I managed to adequately explain everything, but I hope that this at least helps you to see from a different perspective!!

[pens-swords-stuff]

Is there a favorite snack or food you have in japan but not the us? Or the other way around?

oh boy do i ever

So American snacks are actually pretty easy to find in Japan, and have been for a few years now. It's actually quite difficult trying to find snacks to bring to my Japanese friends and counsins now when I visit because they can get most of the things in Japan. I've seen cheetos, pringles, doritos, most of the major chip-brands, oreos, cereals, etc. (I don't have much of a sweet tooth and I'm a huge potato chip fan, so that's mostly what I pay attention to. I feel like there are several candies that haven't made their way to Japan yet, but honestly I don't even look for them so I can't say for certain).

I have also been convinced for years that Bugles and Tongari Corn are the exact same snack. Next time I go to Japan, I'm bringing Bugles with me so I can do a taste-test. Yes I know that I could probably look it up on the internet. No, I'm not going to do that, because this is a test that I have to personally do. Please don't tell me if you know the answer; I need to discover it on my own.

On the other hand, Japanese snacks are really difficult to find in America! There are several that have gone more American mainstream like pocky and hi-chew that you can get at basically any American grocery store now. Asian grocery stores also have a small selection of Japanese snacks, but they are pretty pricy and have smaller packaging. I've also found that Asian grocery stores tend to carry more Korean and Chinese snacks over Japanese.

There is this snack called Umai Bou that I love in Japan. When I first discovered it at a local Asian grocery store near me a couple of years ago, it was groundbreaking. I haven't had it in years, and it was the first time I've ever seen it in America and I was so happy. They only have 2 flavors compared to the dozens that are in Japan, but it was such a huge thing for me and my family because oh my god this is finally here???

One of my favorite Japanese snacks is Jagarico that I've never been able to have in America, so after a trip to Japan, I brought back so much and kept it safe and sound for over a year to eat on my birthday. It was valuable. But recently, I've actually started seeing some in my local Asian grocery store and I was actually crying. For two reasons, really: One, I finally had access to it! Two, it was in a much smaller packaging that didn't have nearly as much as the standard packaging, and was also like 5 times more expensive.

Point is: There's not a lot of Japanese snacks I can get where I live. And on the rare occasion that something does make it over, it's really notable and makes me want to cry but also is really really expensive.

Some common Japanese snacks that I find at my local Asian grocery stores include but are not limited to: Kaki no tane, Pero Pero Choco, Nori and salt flavored potato chips, Hot and spicy potato chips, and different kinds of rice crackers.

But! It really depends on where you live. I live in a place with a decent but not too sizable Japanese population. In places with a much larger Japanese community, there are usually Japanese grocery stores like Mitsuwa Marketplace and other ones where they have a much more diverse selection of Japanese goods, food and snacks (and bookstores and bakeries and food courts within the marketplace). You can't get everything there, but they have a lot more than I have in my local Asian grocery stores.

I recently took a trip with my parents to a Mitsuwa market and a couple of other Japanese grocery stores in the area because we needed to stock up on Japanese food. I shamelessly spent a couple hundred on Japanese snacks that I couldn't get back at my place.

I also think you might be able to get some online now, but I haven't looked into that too much.

Below the cut is an incomplete list of Japanese snacks that I love! There are SO many, and this is just off the top of my head. They're pretty unique in that there aren't really America-equivalents that I know of. So while you can find sour cream and onion chips in Japan, you really can't find super similar things in America. I did not include beverages or ice creams or candy because man. That's just an entirely different conversation in it of itself.

AAPI AMA 2022: Ask me anything about being Japanese!

Remember that these are just my personal experiences and opinions! My thoughts and experiences are not necessarily representative of every Japanese person, and should not be taken as such.

Jagarico

Scone

Galbo

Umai-Bo

Sapporo Potato

Curl

Takenoko no Sato

Caramel Corn

Baby Star Ramen

Potato Fry: Fried Chicken Flavor

Corn Potage Snack

Happy Turn

Chiroru Choco

Kappa Ebisen

Ottotto

Chocoball

Pretz

Jagabee

Bakauke

Kabuki Age

There's so much more but this is making me really hangry so I'm going to stop here! 😭 I want Japanese snacks so badly

[teacherintransition]

The Ugly American...who? Me?

My wife an I have become avid travelers and the closing of countries due to Covid-19 has hit us in the heart...

The time at home has given me chance to read about travel and given me pause to re-evaluate my behavior while abroad in the past and for the future...

The Ugly American, a novel written in the late 1950’s and which was a The New York Times Best Seller, was written by political scientist Eugene Burdick and writer and former U.S. Navy captain William Lederer. The book took a much needed look at the behavior of Americans traveling abroad; from the rugged backpacker hiking India to the field State Department personnel actually presenting the “official face” of our country in the international community. Prior to World War 1, most international travel by Americans was done by the wealthy elite among society. The “common” man through the tribulations of war, was given the opportunity to experience European culture and a yearning for seeing the world was fostered. If fact, there was a saying after WWI, “how you gonna keep Johnny on the farm after he’s seen Paree (Paris)?” The travel bug... wanderlust was born in the hearts of the middle class and gave rise to this phenomenon in film and in books written by Jack Kerouac, Cheryl Strayed, Ernest Hemingway up to contemporary writers like Anthony Bourdain, Andrew Sean Greer and Elizabeth Gilbert. Even Rick Steves who has become a knowledgeable source of traveling information with his travel guide series, has presented an informative open minded view of travel abroad.

All of these written treasures of traveling the world unveils to readers the magic that is to be found by stepping out your front door. The Ugly American presents a scathing look at how the “American” while overseas, displays an arrogant , intolerant, dismissive view of cultures far older and in many cases, more refined than ours. Burdick and Lederer’s book is set within the intrigues of international diplomacy and how that uniquely American view creates failure in the establishment of effective foreign policy. The authors listed and many more besides, instruct their readers to varying degrees to take more note of the intricate nuances a traveler should pay attention to and to show respect and admiration for the centuries of history and culture that exists all around us and that is not American. There is a common thread throughout all their works about what is missed when we stand outside and dismiss the uniqueness of every nation we might visit, instead of immersing oneself and appreciating it in a culture not our own. The “ugly American” has become a mythos of how Americans respond critically to anything that is not “MURICAN!”

Several other factors besides short sighted American foreign policy have contributed to the yoke placed on Americans traveling: cutthroat business practices while dealing with European, Asian and African countries; missionaries whose demonstrate a dismissive view of spiritual practices that have existed for millennia and, quite honestly, the behavior of tourists while abroad. Many experienced travelers draw a clear distinction between the tourist and the traveler. Kathryn Walsh differentiates the two in the following way:

Tourists

It's usually easy for locals to spot a tourist among them. A tourist may carry a camera, guidebook and map at all times and wear the same clothing he'd wear at home. Tourists tend to stay in their comfort zones a bit; they may speak only English instead of trying to learn phrases in the local language; stick to major cities instead of venturing to smaller towns or off-the-beaten-path locales; and stay in areas where the amenities are similar to what they have at home.

Travelers

Generally speaking, someone who considers himself a traveler will try to immerse himself in the local culture rather than standing out. If you're a traveler, you may try to explore the less-traveled areas and explore locations where tourism doesn't drive the economy. You'll interact with locals. Your goals for a trip will be to learn and experience new things, rather than to take a relaxing break from everyday life. A traveler may consider a trip a journey rather than a vacation.

The traveler presents a deferential, respectful and admiring view of the nations they are visiting and adopt the wise phrase from antiquity: “when in Rome do as the Romans.”

There is nothing wrong with being a tourist, often it is the less expensive approach to travel, unless you become the arrogant American tourist then perhaps you need to reassess. Travel is a big part of my retirement plans and goals, but you know what they say about the best laid plans. Two highly anticipated trips with two years involved in planning were rescheduled due to the Covid-19 pandemic, a disappointment we shared with thousands of tourists and travelers alike; and further postponements may continue to confront us. Perspective is needed in such a situation as being denied travel is far below other struggles this event has presented all of us. That being said, it has been a terrible disappointment down to my bones. We’ve missed much needed fellowship time with great friends, the excitement of seeing new places, the immersion in the culture and history of the locales, and, for me personally, our yearly travels have been my muse and inspiration for so much of my art. It’s akin to being very thirsty and having only a few drops to suffice. Introspection is the course of action when hopefully contemplating the possibility of the trips occurring.

To satiate the urge, we’ve read and watched travel programs in the interim and have evaluated our connection to the Ugly American concept? Are we ...them? In our past travels, have we appeared at all dismissive of the people and practices of the places we’ve visited? My wife and I have always been in awe of our travel destinations, so I feel fairly confident that we have not displayed the aforementioned arrogance of many American travelers. The thought that then arises is how much we have not allowed ourselves to be immersed in the culture; which, in the long run, is a detriment to us more than anyone. Our minds are open and willing to become part of the places we visit, but if we eliminate the brusque nature of so many Americans while overseas, what is the stumbling block that draws such distinctions when traveling? I fully concede that most Americans feel they have little to learn from many places on this planet, more is the pity, and there is much flawed thinking that goes into this mindset; but what fundamental differences exist between the cultures? I came across a very enlightening blog article written by Alain Veilell that was spot on in identifying the differences. Veilell simply observed that we run on different clocks. Not literal clocks but a “clock” obsessed with structure and deadline.... hello Americans! Veilell notes that Europeans start late and end late, while American and many Asian cultures start early and end early. Americans tend to view the un-regimented approach as being akin to laziness. I coached soccer and baseball for many years and many of my Latino players would not be as punctual as my other players. They were as talented and competitive, but their homes weren’t ruled by the seconds on a clock. Dinner started later, lasted longer, the dishes could wait... the priority was the quality of interaction with the people your with... ah, there it is ... sort of.

The average American meal last twenty minutes, while the average meal in Spain, for example, lasts two hours. They certainly don’t eat as much as Americans so why all the extra time? Why should time even be a factor so often? It’s the conversation and fellowship that is the priority not timing. While without question, the structured regimentation is a contributing factor to the American commitment to financial success, it also contributes to hypertension, stress, anxiety, depression and conflict that might be avoided with having an extra glass of wine and talking and not worrying if dinner is on schedule. Taking a little more time, enjoying the moment, letting serendipity reign may not be part and parcel of the Puritan work ethic; but it plays a helluva big part in realizing “La Dolce Vita.” This perception of time throws the rhythm off for many American tourists and makes us the ones to call the front desk complaining that the folks in room 210 are just too loud at 9:30 pm. The local population may just be getting ready to start dinner at that time. Remember, “when in Rome do as the Romans?”

While traveling, often American tourists view differences as a personal affront. “ I have to ask for ice?’ “What, no air conditioner?’ “They call the restroom the toilet?’ “Ugh how vulgar ... and a bidet? You must be kidding?” Truth to tell, Americans also suffer from mischaracterization from travelers from abroad as well. If I had a nickel for ever foreign exchange student who thought that all of Texas was a giant ranch with everyone riding horses and wearing cowboy hats. I think though that visitors to our country more often than not allow themselves to be pleasantly surprised than to have their feathers ruffled. It seems that we allow the “ours is better than yours” mentality to outweigh the magic of the unknown and the different. Every spiritual guiding ethos advocates living in the moment, treasure what is happening right now, greet the unknown with hope not hostility. The ugly American leaves no room for such an upbeat approach. Superiority mentality leave very little to treasure in this magnificent world other than what is yours and that limits learning, excitement, growth and just the pure joy that comes from trekking this world.

Is this assessment of mine a blanket judgement? No, not at all but there is some truth to it and there is something to be learned. As I self analyze, I found that I may harbor some of these traits and it’s good that I have time to stand back and look ...to learn. The worthy goal of being an affirming member of this global community is a purpose that I seek; and the rewards are far beyond just being intrinsic but rewards the cultures you visit with an admiration and respect they deserve. As these thoughts have been put down, it reignites the hopes that the planned journeys come to realization with the anticipation of more to follow. No more ugly Americans, British, Japanese or what have you, just eager travelers wanting to see and experience all that this world has to offer. Happy travels my friends.

Burdick, Eugene Lederer, William; The Ugly American ; Norton Publications; 1958

Veilel, Alain; “Why don’t Europeans Travel to Cancun?;” Quora; October 8, 2020

Walsh, Kathryn. "Differences Between a Tourist and a Traveller" traveltips.usatoday.com, https://traveltips.usatoday.com/differences-between-tourist-traveller-103756.html. 5 April 2021.

Photo from https://www.myheritage.com/

Photo from https://openlibrary.org/authors/OL13640A/Ernest_Hemingway

[motsimages]

A list of Hollywood things that may be what real life is in the US and the equivalent situation in Spain. Feel free to add your own country. I’d love to know of other places :)

This is going to be long, so the TL:DR is there are many things I know about the US because of the movies, landscapes, hobbies, cultural things, everyday life things and sometimes they feel very normal or like something that happens in movies, no in between. They are neither and this is a list of differences I can think of in regards to Spain.

Click there to find out, there are pictures and all.

- Going to school by car, by bike or in a yellow bus: We either walk or your parents drive you (specially when you are too young to go by bus on your own or your parents are overprotective). Not really bike because bike lanes are a mess (in that they don’t exist) in Spain, it is dangerous. There are school buses if students come from places that are further but they’re average travel buses and once you are 16, you cannot use them. You have to go to school from 16 to 18 in public transportation because school is not mandatory after 16, it is understood it’s your choice. You may have a motorbike at 16 but I don’t know anybody who went to school in it. All of this is extra -fun- if you live in a village as in there may not be any bus service if it’s a small place or you live far apart from the village.

The picture is an average school bus with a woman in charge of picking up children. It looks like it’s in the country or maybe, the outside neighbourhoods of a city.

- Dating: we don’t date. If you like someone, you find a way to hang out with them and hope for the best. It may be more or less clear what is going on but it’s not a date, just a plan. You go to a restaurant/movies/theater... when you _are_ in a relationship or with friends. Not a date. The confusing hell it is to watch people saying things like “It’s a date! I’ll pick you up at 8!” Ok. Maybe they pick you up but still not a date. Also: not a problem if you have sex straight away or if you don’t feel like it (because there is no social obligation around it, no date). It seems to be a big deal when you are 30 and “never been in a date” but the first time I was in a date was with my current boyfriend _after_we started going out (I was 30 btw). I met him on a dating app, btw. Still don’t consider the first time we met “a date”. “Going on a date” maybe a thing but still probably based on movies.

- Prom: very confusing. Specially the part where you _have_ to have a _date_ (again, not something we do ever). If we do a ball (IF, also it wouldn’t be a “ball” as such but a “party”), it is actually expected to go on your own, with your friends. It would be a massive social pressure to go with the boy you like (with whom nothing happened prior to this) in front of people. Nah, you either go with your partner that you already have or with mates. But generally speaking, there is no “prom” or “graduation” in high school. In my high school, we spoke with a restaurant to have dinner, invited the teachers we liked and after that, went to local bars to party until the next morning when we went to see what grades we had received for the year. It was done like this so those who failed the exams could still party with the rest.

As for uni, maybe some other colleges do something but we didn’t (mainly because I studied translation and half of the people in my year were abroad that year). I don’t even have a picture of my graduation. People usually dress smart and then wear a band with the colour of their faculty.

The picture is graduation from Tourism (if I’m not mistaken). It shows a group of girls on a scene, all of them smartly dresses with an orange band on their shoulders. Their classmates are sitting on the grades of this “theater thing”, all wearing the same band.

- High School: in general, it’s very confusing. It seems to me like there is some kind of obsession with high school years given all the movies about high school and all the “childhood sweetheart” stories out there. For us, it is quite an irrelevant period of our lives, almost like school. You do it because you have to but often, life (and interesting things) happen AFTER high school. Our high schools don’t have lockers, you just carry 5 books in a backpack. But you have your class, only a couple of things take place in other rooms (maybe Science in the lab, or some optional subjects). Public schools close once the classes are over and all the activities you may want to do, you do them somewhere else (paying for them, most of the time). There are no School teams of anything, you don’t play against other schools either (maybe private schools do, I don’t know). In my high school, I remember for Spring we organised like a week of activities and you would sign up with your mates if anything. You and 2 others would make a basketball team to play in the Basketball league against other people in your class but it isn’t “The Official Team”. I remember there was a card tournament for the game of Mus (typical from Madrid). Also, we don’t have The Popular, The Band Kid, The Nerds, etc. clearly separated. There is bullying (but our toilets are not full of water so you cannot drown there) but either you are normal or you are the weird kid, so to say. I was a weird kid who suffered some light bullying and then I went to average, with no bullying. Overall, everyone speaks with each other and unless it’s a severe case of bullying (which there are), there are no underdogs or closed groups. We don’t have yearbooks AT ALL and this “Clown of the class” thing? I personally find it borderline problematic.

Picture of an average high school in Spain. It’s separated in two halfs. On the left, there is a couple of people carrying backpacks in a corridor. It’s quite dark, a window at the end giving light to the corridor. On the right, one of the doors of the corridor is open and shows a classroom. There are lots of green tables and chairs, all of them in pairs. At the end there is a blackboard. The light comes from the window.

- Alcohol consumption and other drugs: We can drink at 18 and it’s not a big deal if you get drunk. By the time you’re 18, your parents have seen you drunk more than once. You may have gotten drunk with your parents. You’ve seen them drunk more than once. Spain is quite an alcoholic society, tbh. BUT we do not like aggressive drunkards or dependant drunkards. You can get drunk but you have to be able to still be nice. Your friends will stop hanging out with you if you get drunk too often, too heavy or too badly (and you will find those who follow you, obvs). We do it to socialize and have fun, not to knock out. Weed is partially legal (I don’t really know the law, you can get fined for carrying but not arrested, you can buy paraphernalia in shops, there are cannabis clubs, people can smoke on the street in the open, you can grow it at home, it can be used for medical purposes or recreational). Other drugs are illegal though personal use may be allowed? I don’t know but I do know that it’s relatively easy and cheap to find other harder drugs, and so, they are commonly used at parties. The 80s were a complicated time in Spain because the heroine consumption was over the roof. It killed many many people in that generation.

- Houses: in cities, it’s more frequent for people to live in a flat. Depending on the time when this flat was built, the quality of the materials will be better, the flat will be bigger or smaller. Houses are something you see mainly in villages and they tend to be next to each other, no garden (maybe a patio). In the last 20-30 years, people started to show an interest in something that looks like “suburbs” from the movies (even though “suburbio” in Spanish actually means the full opposite of “suburbs”) but it doesn’t fit the weather nor the way we live and I personally hate them. And wooden houses are out of this world, everything here is made of stone or brick. Traditional houses here are made of stone with thick walls (up to one meter of thickness). I attach pictures of houses in the North of Spain. Southern houses are full white, no wooden structures to be seen from the outside.

A village in what looks like the North of Spain. There is a lot of vegetation, you can see some white and brown houses in a grass field. There is a tower at the back. We see a town square with houses made of stone, red roof and wooden balconies. Most of the walls are painted white, some aren’t and you can see the stone itself.

- Physical contact: in the movies, people rarely hug. It seems to me that maybe in the 80s-90s people hugged, touched more on screen. At some point in the 2000s it stopped and now you have people crying their eyes out and their best friend just standing there. We stand closer to each other and touch each other to show care, interest and affection very often. Some people in Spain are not very tactile (and thus, really like Northern Europe) but generally speaking, if someone cries, you hug them (unless you know they don’t want it, in which case you stay nearby). Heterosexual men also hug and also hold each other by the shoulder, for instance. I know this is a shock for some foreigners (don’t know if in the US it would be). From the times I’ve met US people, they’re not only surprised but sometimes actually scared that people touch them. Not even Asians react the way US people do to physical contact in Spain. BTW, when I say “touch”, I mean “the arm, shoulder” mainly. Other places require closer levels of friendship. However, you may kiss your partner/lover anywhere in the street, it’s ok, usually goes unnoticed by people. Even my parents grab each others asses occasionally in the street.

This picture is from La Torre de Suso, where 4 friends gather after 10 years of being apart because an old friend died. It also touches on drug addiction and the 80s. It shows 4 men in their 40s wearing a jacket and a tie, smartly dress, smiling and about to hug each other in the middle of the street of what looks like a small town.

- Welcoming someone to the neighbourhood: apparently, people bring cakes to the new comers. We don’t, you’ll eventually meet your neighbours. Or not. But you have to say hello to the people you see on the stairs of your flat, in the street you live. In small towns/villages, you have to greet everyone you know, at least say “hi”, ideally actually stop for small talk (I’m terrible at this but getting better now that I live in a small town).

- Church: it seems to be a big part of people’s lives. Very often, people are going to church, all ceremonies seem to be religious (marriage, death...) and they tend to be Christian (sometimes Jewish but they seem to be less involved in their religious life?, or maybe the movie is done by non-religious people?). In Spain, everything is Catholic and at the same time, it isn’t. Many traditions are Catholic and people enjoy them but they aren’t Catholic themselves. There are churchgoers, of course. There are Catholic cults with massive power in politics and society (Opus Dei, mainly). But we had a fascist Catholic dictatorship and many people got very tired of it. To give you an idea of how things usually go: everyone in my village eats the same meal (fish and garbanzo beans for lunch, potato omelette for diner) on Good Friday (even my family, where nobody has ever been religious willingly). Only old people and some very Catholic families go to church. Most holidays are related to Catholic Saints (this gives us lots of long weekends and days off during the year) and they are often celebrated with a town fair that lasts several days.

In theory, Spain has no religion. In reality, it is Catholicism. In schools/high schools there is a subject called “Religion” and almost always it’s about Catholicism (teachers of this subject, even in public schools, are related to the Church somehow). It is not mandatory but often there is no alternative if you don’t want to take it (I was the only child who didn’t attend and had my own homework during that time that my mother chose for me: Ethics).

The image is from El Rocío, an important religious fair that takes place in the South of Spain. Many local fairs look similar to this. Lots of people are gathered in a small temporary white hut, decorated with garlands (white and red) and the flag of Andalusia that is green and white. There is a bar with small glasses of white wine and some plates with food on them.

This said, it’s very frequent to get married at the Town Hall with a couple of witness and it’s also very frequent for burials to happen in the Tanatorio, where people can say goodbye to their loved one but it’s not in church.

And even many church goers are not devoted Christians, are open minded about LGBT issues or other, for instance.

- Prison: We don’t have death penalty but people can spend their life in prison if their crimes are massive and they add years and years to their sentence. Prisons here are public and as far as I’ve seen in Spanish movies, there are no uniforms, you wear your everyday clothes. You will only go to prison if you committed a serious crime or if you have several small crimes. Often, the first time it’s a reduced sentence that can be made into paying a fine. The second time you will go to prison. This happens even for domestic violence/rape which usually causes great controversy in society. You can leave earlier if you behave well (very earlier actually) and sometimes you can leave the weekend and the come back to prison, or leave for x hours and come back to sleep. It depends on the sentence and behaviour, etc. I’d say terrorism is the hardest charge and right now, they are using terrorism as an excuse to sentence activists (there quite a lot of political prisoners in Spain).

I mention crimes because you have to have LOTS of other offences to go to prison. They usually are just fined.

The picture is from the movie Cell 211 which is an excellent movie. Do watch it. It shows the main character, a bold man with a goatie wearing a sweater whose sleeves have been cut off. He looks serious. On the background, many men wearing everyday sports clothes cheer and look in the same direction as him.

- Laws: I don’t know Spanish law very well (it bothers me to say that I may know better what to do with the police in the US than in Spain) but it seems to me, from the movies, that many things are made into a massive deal in the US. Like jaywalking is apparently an offence of some kind? Here you can just cross the street wherever. People respect the crossing path for safety but it’s not a crime to not do it. People also don’t sue companies or other people as often and it’s usually not that big of a deal maybe? In any case, it’s a completely different legal system.

. The 50s: The 50s in the US are fancy and colourful. Society seems to have been thriving, everything was getting better. In Spain, the hunger years were starting to be over but many people were poor. We were in the worst of the Franco dictatorship, it was quite a rural society that had been destroyed by a civil war (the effects of which are still being felt). Rich people were fascist, poor people could be anything (many were actually communists, republican or other leftist). This is not a happy time in Spain. Many people had left to be refugees in other countries, many were leaving illegally to work in Germany or France. The music we listened to at the time was definitely not Elvis Presley (look for Lola Flores or Miguel de Molina, even though he ended up fleeing the country because he was openly gay and republican and they almost killed him once).

This image is from the movie Los Santos Inocentes, based on a book of the same title. A classic of Spanish modern literature and cinema. This is the way most people looked in the 50s in Spain. Even now old people look like this in villages.

It is like a family picture in front of a white house. Everyone is wearing black, dark blue, dark green or grey. From left to right, there is a boy sitting on a bench that is situated next to the door. Next, it’s a young girl wearing a long grey skirt and a dark green jacket. By the door, the mother holds a very thin boy who seems to be either deeply sick or dead. She wears mostly black and gray. The boy has the brightest green in the scene. Next to her, there is a man wearing a gray jacket and a bonet and finally, there is an older man that seems to be smiling (the only one smiling, everyone else has a serious and gloomy face).

And that’s what I can think of right now.

[normal-thoughts-official]

what are some things you think magnus would do to feel close to his culture/roots? one thing my mother (who is also south east asian) does is speak her local dialect with her siblings, but i imagine the language will have evolved over the years, and he wouldn’t find speakers who speak it in the same way as him (if that makes sense?)

it makes a lot of sense! and i definitely agree. i think about that all the time, how the language magnus (and warlocks in general) was raised in doesn't exist anymore. and in a way he almost envies warlocks who speak now-dead languages (like not really but there's that thought sometimes) because at least they get to keep them as they were? but with magnus he has to see his language slowly become something else, something that isn't his and that he doesn't follow because he's not at the heart of it while it changes, and it's like it slips through his fingers and is stolen away, you know? like obviously language is constantly changing and there's nothing wrong with that, but esp with magnus having little contact with speakers of his mother tongue, he's not even aware of the changes until he says something and ppl look at him weird or straight up don't understand him

and current indonesian has many words that were borrowed from english, dutch, and portuguese (source: im studying it - not because of magnus, i just heard it on a video and thought it was so beautiful and im a slut for languages - and it's easy to tell) because of colonization, so that in particular is probably what hurts the most. seeing his language slowly be morphed by the language of the ppl who claimed his land, killed and oppressed his people, tried to destroy his culture... it really fucking hurts. especially dutch, as it was his stepfather's language

so yeah he doesn't get to use his language to feel close to his culture anymore and let me tell you that really fucking breaks my heart because your language is who you are, it's how you think, it literally shapes your brain physically. even if you're fluent in other languages, it's a part of you. i can't imagine living in a world where brazilian portuguese as i know it no longer exists except for me. even the idea of like, moving to p*rtugal and speaking their portuguese instead hurts me and makes me really uneasy. so like this is such a huge loss and makes him feel even more like he's being stolen away, you know?

okay this is getting too depressing and isn't really what you asked im sorry ifnfifn

as for what i think he does to feel closer to his culture!

food. yes i've said it a thousand times before and ur probably sick to death of hearing it but what can i say, it's true. especially living in the US like disgusting sometimes i hear about the "food" my US american friends eat and im just like damn yall live like this? and not just that but US americans (and most europeans) really don't.... understand and value food in the way that other cultures do. like i think it might be the individualism inherently entrenched into most of their cultures but to me food is love and food is family, its meanings are so deep and they... don't really understand that. so keeping close to his food is important. and with magic he can even get his ingredients exactly as they used to grow there, tasting exactly the same, so he does get to keep his food

flowers. I'll forever be a slut for magnus and jasmines and the hc that they remind him of his mom? i mean jasmines are even indonesia's official national flower and it matters a lot for indonesian cultures as a whole (same source). so the smell of jasmines, growing jasmines, jasmine tea... it makes him feel like he can keep a part of her with him

tea. i know this technically falls into food but i think tea is special for him in a way that i can't really explain (possibly because i don't really like tea. or coffee for that matter which brazilians and latinos as a whole are all sluts for) because it has its own ritual, you know? the way it's made and drank, the way it's served, everything about it is very important culturally. i think it's no coincidence that magnus was drinking tea when he was being plagued by memories of his stepfather. like usually he goes for alcohol when he needs support, so why tea? i think tea provides him a comfort alcohol can't because it makes him feel close to his roots

religion/spirituality. ok admittedly i can't say a lot about this because i never identified with my family's religion and i'm far from being an expert in Hinduism or Islam, which are the two most likely religions for him to have been raised in, so jdndidnd. but since sh lore doesn't exist in Islam and magnus practices magic, Magnus couldn't be a Muslim, so i think this would be specific for the case of him being Hindu, or having an indigenous javanese religion, according to my muslim friends

but like. religious practices are definitely important community builders and carry super important cultural meanings. so i think this is another way. i know that i have quite a few hindu friends and followers, so if any of y'all want to add into this with more detail, i'd be delighted, and you're definitely all invited to weight in.

another important detail is that if magnus is hindu that adds even more layers to his relationship with flowers, as they are extremely important, especially for indonesian/balinese hindu people

music! again magic helps because with memory magic he can literally bring the sounds of the music he was raised listening to back to life, but like, traditional music styles always live on. so i think singing songs from his childhood definitely helps as well. actually, well, i think art in general falls here

obviously, visiting, since java and its culture are far from dead. it's changed, yes, and i think in that sense it's bittersweet, but there's a lot about it that still feels like home to him, not to mention indonesia still has quite a few traditional communities (although, from what i've seen, most of those are in bali, not java, and with magnus having been raised specifically in jakarta that makes it even more complicated, but also.... previously colonized cities are a weird thing. i live in the biggest city in the whole of south america and there are still plenty of traditional indigenous communities right inside the city. but i can't speak for jakarta) so he could also visit those places. and just like being in a place where everyone (or ok, almost everyone) is javanese? where so many of the small cultural things in everyday life are still present? you know? like the air feels different, it's in the way people move, gesticulate, speak (regardless of language), interact, eat. it feels like home in a way nowhere else can't and it makes him relax and feel so much more like himself, just by being there

and okay that's what i have. take this with a grain of salt as i'm latin american, not south east asian, so most of what i've said here is based on research i've done before for other asks + things i've heard from my SE Asian friends + more generic experiences with being a third worlder/previously colonized. thank you so much for that, i really loved this ask!

all the thanks to @pastaingallday for being an absolute babe with endless patience and helping me out with my muslim magnus questions. this post would probably be a mess without her <3 thank you so much baby, i love you

[snowpeawritings]

13. Marie

Philemon seems to enjoy seeing his Wild Cards live on with their lives…

insp.

Persona 4 Golden X FeMC!Reader

> . . .

05/01/SUN-Early morning | Shopping District, South

With a wallet packed full with money, you strolled through the shopping district. Even though it was slightly cloudy, the weather was pleasant as people still roamed about the district.

From beside you, Izanami looked at the list that she wrote down herself. “So we’re starting with your books...”

“I finished them all in one night.” You said to her, remembering how your knowledge improved despite your eye bags.

“Then we see new weapons in Daidara’s shop.”

"Chie and Yukiko need to catch up."

"And... You need ingredients to make the boxed lunches."

You sighed but you didn't oppose the Dojimas idea that you were making the boxed lunches. Nanako was too excited for the long weekend and even Dojima wanted to spend time with his daughter. Even if you hadn't known them for long, you wanted to try and get them to bond together soon. You had thought to follow Nanako's suggestion and go to Junes instead so you wouldn't cook but you feared that Dojima wouldn't like to listen to the catchy tune over and over again.

Seeing the bookstore, you walked towards it but stopped when you spotted a familiar girl walking outside. She held a book in her hands and by the look of her eyes, she seemed excited by it.

"Marie?" You said to her. She yelped at your call, fumbling over her book rather comically before hiding it behind her back. Her face was flushed deeply with red as she regarded you with a glare.

"Wh-What are you doing surprising me all of a sudden?!" She screeched, not caring about the bystanders watching. "S-Stupid! You're stupid! I hate you!"

You blinked at her outburst before looking down at her book. "I didn't know you know the concept of buying stuff."

One of her eyebrows raised up. "B-Buy? What the heck is that?"

Your eyes widened. "You mean you stole that book?!"

As if on cue, the owner of the bookstore knocked on his window, mouthing some unintelligible words and pointing at Marie's book. If it wasn't for the glass window, you were sure that everyone in the area would hear his cussing.

"How could you have no money when I pay to remember Personas from Margaret?" You questioned her, already fishing out your wallet.

"How should I know?!" She replied back, stepping behind Izanami as if she could stop the man.

Izanami shook her head. "Good grief..."

---

"Don't you have a curfew when you go back to the Velvet Room?" You asked her once you resolved the stolen book problem. Even though the poem book was fairly inexpensive, it already made a dent on your finances just for the books.

Marie's face huffed even more. "What do you take me for? A kid?! Just so you know, I'm not gonna help you when you go back inside that stuffy car!"

You shrugged. "You were the one who had no concept of monetary value."

She choked but she didn't refute back. The poem book that had been the center of trouble was back in her hands, unscathed and paid for. You wondered if she liked to read or write poems.

Beside you, Izanami seemed to have vocalized your thoughts. "Do you like poetry, Marie?"

She stiffened from your Persona's question but her red blush gave her answer away.

"Not much to do in the car unless I come in, huh?" You said to her, lips quirking into a smirk at the thought of the three people inside the limousine just waiting for you to come back. Come to think of it, they had a bunch of drinks inside the vehicle-are they all adults then?

She clicked her tongue and looked away from you. “Don’t take words out of my mouth! It’s not like I wanted for you to come by!”

“Sure…” You drawled out. “Anyway, you want to join me on my shopping spree?”

Her blush slowly died down. “S-Shopping?”

Izanami nodded to the list that she’s holding. “We have quite a few things we need to get now that we have a new team member.”

Marie regarded her with a nod before crossing her arms. “Okay. And it’s not because I’m bored out of my mind waiting in the car.”

You chuckled at her response as you entered Daidara's shop with her. It was apparent that she's never been inside the shop, for her eyes widened at the sight of different weapons and armor that covered the walls. You continued to watch her childlike wonder before Daidara cleared his throat.

You turned to him, turning your back against Marie as you hauled your materials to his counter. "Oh, and Marie? Don't touch anything."

"What?"

Before you could repeat yourself, a crash followed and soon a feminine screech inside the shop.

Your eye twitched as you looked at Daidara with a grimace. "Would taking the most expensive weapons be enough for compensation?"

Behind you, Izanami sighed. "Good grief…"

05/01/SUN-Afternoon | Junes

You had considered your options for buying ingredients. On one hand, you wanted to support local businesses and their products...

On the other hand, maybe Nanako would be happy to hear that you made lunches out of ingredients from Junes.

You decided on the latter, Izanami dragging Marie as she tried to carry the bag of new weapons in one hand.

"What's this place now?" Marie asked you, looking around the underground grocery. Before anyone became suspicious, Izanami handed you the bag as you carried it on your back. The added weight made you groan but you continued on as you grabbed a cart.

"It's a grocery store." You replied to her, rolling the cart to the ingredients section. "I'm gonna cook for my family."

"Family?" Marie tested the word, almost sounding funny when you saw her struggling with it.

"Yeah," you said before realizing how awkward it would be to leave it at that, "is Margaret not like your relative or something?"

Marie shrugged, walking beside you in stride as she looked at the different types of miso paste brands. "She keeps annoying me so I don't think I want her as a relative."

"Huh…" You sighed out, getting the miso base as you went to another section of the store. "What's up with the Velvet Room anyway? Did you want to be inside a car for the rest of your life?"

You didn't hear her for a while except her boots tapping against the floor as your cart was steadily filling with ingredients. Marie was oddly quiet, so quiet that you and Izanami looked back at her. The girl looked like she was deep in thought, her eyebrows drawn in as though she was having an existential crisis.

Before you could ask her if she was okay, a familiar voice called your name. Yosuke was carrying a crate filled with canned tomato sauce as Jiraiya followed him, obviously bored out of his mind. Adorably enough, Jiraiya was wearing the same Junes apron. How did people not freak out over a floating apron, you didn't want to ask.

"What brings you here?" Yosuke asks you before heaving the heavy crate down on the floor. You winced when you heard an audible crack when he straightened his back.

"Just shopping to cook for Golden Week." You replied to him. "Work being too hard on you?"

He groaned tiredly. "No kidding. Just when I thought I can relax, there's a stupid sale that's happening just for the week."

You patted his back as an apology for the pain he experienced and many more in the upcoming week. 

"And what are you doing?" Izanami questioned Jiraiya, who was busy fiddling with his apron that surprisingly fitted him.

"Moral support." He said simply. "Can't really touch objects without people thinking Junes is haunted so I try my best. Besides, the apron looks good on me."

"Speaking of…" Izanami trailed off, looking at the apron. It was definitely not Asian size as it stretched to accommodate Jiraya's body. She wasn't aware that there were sizes that were big enough to fit an almost 7 ft. tall being.

"Y'know, you don't have to hide it." Jiraiya said, snapping her out of her thinking. "You'd look good in an apron. Or would you rather wear mine…?"

She let out an aggravated sigh before igniting her fingers with electricity and zapping Jiraiya's side. He let out a high-pitched yelp, his body convulsing before he squirmed away from the goddess. His scarf was burned to a degree as smoke emanated from his body.

"You never change." Izanami said dryly. "And how does the apron fit you? And how is anyone not screaming at the sight of a floating apron?"

Jiraiya made a sound in his throat, an alternative to how he doesn't seem to have a mouth. He then looked down at his apron, a hand lifting and fumbling at the fabric before letting it drop.

"I honestly don't know."

While the Personas were talking, Marie, who was busy watching you comfort a crying boy, went to watch the Personas. She walked over, arms crossed as she stared at the other Persona that belonged to Yosuke.

Jiraiya took notice of the new girl's stare and immediately floated over to her, a flirtatious line ready in him as he--

"Get away from me." Marie said to him in her absolute, most dead voice.

Jiraiya, currently shocked that she could see him, dropped down from his floating stance as he scrambled on the floor. The sight was surprising but comical to Izanami as she laughed at the sight of the ninja frog struggling to recover from the attack.

Hearing Jiraiya’s struggling sounds, you looked to where your Personas are. The sight of Izanami laughing at Jiraiya and Marie staring at the two of them.

“Wait—” Yosuke gasped out, looking at Marie. “She can see them?!”

“Weird story.” You said to him. “Anyway, you think you can ring me up with some ingredients?”

"Huh? O-Oh sure…"

He then led you towards the section that you needed, all the while conversing with you about plans for Golden Week. It soon spiralled into having a talk about personal things that you two like. You felt closer to Yosuke than before.

"Oh yeah… When did our Personas can touch stuff?"

"... No clue."

Persona Time

After walking Marie back home (and quickly explaining about Skill Cards), she plopped down on the sofa as she sighed from how tired she was. Feeling the book inside of her bag, she fished it out and stared at the hardbound cover.

"You seem to have enjoyed your day out."

She flinched then glared at Margaret, the woman looking at her with the annoying stare that she didn't like. It's the type of stare that it makes her feel like Margaret is prying at her secrets. She hates it.

"Shut up." She said to Margaret, not even bothering to put up a fight.

The elder woman chuckled, her nails tapping against the Persona Compendium in an elegant manner before speaking again. "I'll be willing to let you out more as long as you try not to make too much noise inside the room."

Marie choked before glaring at her.

"Like that."

Marie clicked her tongue before looking away. Grabbing her notebook and pencil from her bag, she angrily wrote on the paper, all the while muttering about a certain platinum-blonde woman.

Both Margaret and Igor stared at her, unamused of her usual antiques. They really can't wait for you to come by again.

[purplesurveys]

1003

survey by --rainboweyes--

When you think of this country, what first comes to your mind?

Argentina: We have a local brand of canned corned beef called Argentina, so instead of the country I immediately thought of that food. But if I really have to connect this to the country, I also remembered a wrestler called Giant Gonzales; he hailed from Argentina.

Brazil:  Those “Come to Brazil” hashtags that used to trend all the time on Twitter. Brazil had some reallllly loud fanbases; I’m just not sure if they’re still as vocal now.

Canada: Bret Hart. Also @inchoate-surveys, heh.

Denmark: I don’t really know anything about Denmark. OH WAIT NO there’s Legos, so we’ll go with that.

England: I honestly thought of their dishes first since I find them rather unique and super different from the Asian dishes I’m used to. We don’t really use beans or make a lot of puddings and pies, but I think they’re all interesting. 

France: Escargot and baguette lol. I’m constantly thinking of food, guys; what a shocker. Also the movie Funny Face since most of it was set in France.

Germany: Sauerkraut and long words.

Hungary: I always confuse Hungary with Germany, but the difference is I don’t know a single thing about Hungary. So I don’t actually know how to answer this haha oops, sorry.

Ireland: Niall Horan HEHE. Also the wrestlers Becky Lynch and Sheamus. Ireland’s got a lot of talented folks.

Italy: @justsurveys (:D), Lizzie McGuire, the movie Roman Holiday.

Jamaica: I also first thought of a wrestler. His name is Kofi Kingston and I remembered him because at one point in his career he was packaged to have a Jamaican gimmick even though he’s actually Ghanian, just because of his race and the fact that he had dreadlocks. Like seriously? Classic example of WWE being racist and stereotypical...ugh. It’s truly hard to vouch for them sometimes.

Japan: The brutally honest first thing I thought of wasssss how they took over my country for a few years and subjected thousands of women and children to various forms of torture before killing them.

Korea: Korean food :( Man I miss having jjajangmyeon.

Libya: Their old flag, which was just entirely green. No designs, no stripes, no other colors. Just a good ol’ green flag.

Morocco: I think of Marrakesh and how colorful the place is. I’d love to go someday.

Norway: Northern lights.

Poland: The current Pope. < OMG editing this answer. The Pope I was thinking of was John Paul II, the actual Pole. Pope Francis is from Argentina lmaooooo so sorry

Romania: I honestly can’t tell you a single thing. Slowly starting to realize that I’m not as good in geography as I thought I was, ha.

Russia: Onion domes, I think that’s what they’re called.

Spain: When I think of Spain I always immediately think of the unfinished church, Sagrada Familia is what I think it’s called, if I remember correctly. It’s in my bucket list of places to see, for sure. Then there’s also the 333 years of colonization, but I’m not feeling bitter enough tonight to rant about that.

Tunisia: Not a clue. I’m bringing my ass to read more about other countries after this.

Turkey: Gabie, because she has Turkish blood.

Uganda: That Joseph Kony documentary that blew up nearly a decade ago. I’m pretty sure that was based in Uganda.

United States of America: Trump, Target, cheeseburgers, elderly people on scooters, those machines at the store that count your coins for you, more cheeseburgers.

United Kingdom: The royal family, Black Mirror, accents that sound fancy.

Australia: Barbecue, kangaroos, deserts, Vegemite.

New Zealand: I thought of my relatives who live there. Also Lord of the Rings.

List 3 movies you like in each genre.

Action: Eugh, I hate this genre. Wonder Woman is probably the only action movie I ever really enjoyed.

Comedy: Can romcoms count? I like The Proposal, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, andddddd This Is Spinal Tap. 

Drama: Room, Revolutionary Road, Requiem for a Dream.

Fantasy: Huge pass.

Horror: Midsommar, The Shining, (the original) Carrie.

Kids/Animated: Toy Story, Finding Nemo, Tangled.

Romance: Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Carol, Two for the Road.

Sci-Fi: 2001: A Space Odyssey(!!!), The Martian, Interstellar.

Thriller: Misery, Black Swan, Gone Girl.

Western: Not my cup of tea. The only thing I could think of is Breaking Bad, and that’s not even a movie.

Answer just in numbers.

Number of brothers you have: 1.

Number of sisters you have: Also 1.

Number of the house you live at: Eh.

Number of close friends you have: Off the top of my head, 3.

Number of pets you have: 2.

Number of times you shower a week: 6 or 7.

Number of concerts you've been to in your life: Too many to count if I include local gigs at schools. But if we’re only referring to bigger acts held in arenas or stadiums, 4.

Number of cars your household has: 3.

Number of serious relationships you've been in: 1, but we dated twice.

Number of movies you've seen at the cinema this year: Hahahaha

Number of people who live in your house: 5, including myself.

Number of plug sockets in the room you're in now: 4.

Some more randomer questions.

What food do you have cravings for the most? My cravings are always changing, though. Right now, it would be sushi and takoyaki. We actually just had both last night for dinner, but we devoured them SO fast and now I’m seeking them out again.

What TV shows do you hate to miss on TV? I’m not that attached to any show. I used to religiously follow WWE Raw and The Walking Dead and always wanted to watch both live as often as possible, but those days are long gone.

What do you tend to lose the most? My appetite. As for actual items...probably pens.

The last time someone shouted at you - why were they shouting? It’s been a while since that happened, so I don’t remember.

Would you rather have a cactus or a bonsai? Cactus. I heard taking care of bonsai trees is quite complicated, and I just know I’d kill it within a day or two, if not a lot shorter.

What scary story freaks you out the most? Not really in the mood to think of an answer to this considering it’s 1:07 AM and dark as fuck in my room D:

Are you better with gadgets or cooking? Probably gadgets, but just barely.

How would you rate your own looks? Personality? I hate deciding on things about me. I don’t want to hype myself up too much but I don’t want to drag myself down either lol

What accent is the most attractive? Some English accents are very pleasant to the ear.

Do you get annoyed when people spell your name wrong? Not for the most part since I have the more uncommon spelling anyway. But if someone is talking to me on like Messenger or Viber where my name is blatantly stated and spelled out and they still misspell it, then I get peeved.

[smolkooks]

cold coffee - p. jimin

pairings: barista!dancer!reader x idol!jimin

word count: 4k

content: fluff, cuteness, jimin being his adorable self

warnings: none :)

( please do not plagiarise my work! )

*

You headed into your parents’ coffee shop early today, to start preparing the beans and awaiting the new deliveries that were set to arrive within the hour.

Your parents had passed the coffee shop into your care for the next three months, with you and your sister switching shifts each day. Your dad was Korean, and your mom was American, so their café was unique in the way that they made sure they each put their own flairs into the typical café foods—just by including a few more choices and options.

It attracted attention, to be completely honest, and the shop had even made it onto the local news a few years back.

Groaning, you pushed the door open, pulling your coat tighter around yourself as you watched the delivery truck pull in. You went to greet the delivery man, who came every week to your café, and began dragging the boxes into the café, thanking the delivery man quickly, before shutting the glass doors behind you.

You loved this place—but you also couldn’t help but be excited to leave—only because you had dance practice afterwards, though. Even though you loved your parents’ café, and you loved to cook and talk to people, you enjoyed dancing more.

You’d grown up dancing, and while you had just graduated from studying literature, you had never stopped dancing, even while you were in college.

Carefully, you started unwrapping the boxes one by one, pulling out the bags of flour, coffee beans, sugar, all of the things that you had placed orders for the week before, organising them into neat piles so that you could store them into the cupboards easily.

Even as you flipped the sign on the door from ‘closed’ to a cheerful ‘open’, you were distracted with the thought of going to dance later. All day, your brain was buzzing with ideas for new choreography you couldn’t wait to share and perform for your dance friends.

Customers steadily began filing in, your usual morning bunch, and you knew the orders of almost all of them. They came by practically every day, and you always shared some pleasant conversation with them whenever they passed through.

“The usual, I presume?” You told one young woman kindly, already typing in her order.

“Yes, thanks, Y/N,” She said with a sigh, rubbing tiredly at her eyes, “It’d be a great pick-me-up, I’m sure.”

“Oh yes, it did the trick for me all through college,” You chuckled, beginning to make the coffee, the pleasant, warm smell filling the room with a cheerful, calm aura.

“You studied lit, right?” The woman asked, absently making conversation, “How was it? My sister’s thinking of going into it.”

“I liked it enough,” You said with a shrug, half-smiling, “But I’m thinking of auditioning for some musicals instead. I’m a dancer, see? The course was fun, but I just…prefer performance, is all.”

The woman looked surprised, “Oh, really! I didn’t know that about you. Sounds like fun.”

You passed her the coffee, and she slid a few gold coins across the counter, which you accepted with a kind smile of thanks and a grateful nod, “See you tomorrow, I hope?”

“I will definitely come by,” The woman responded, giving you a wink, “Thanks, Y/N. Have a good day.”

She was out the door before you could respond, and the customer next in line was already placing their order before you had even registered them speaking.

It would be a long day, today.

It was half an hour before the end of your shift—your shift ended at midday—when an unfamiliar face strolled in, looking incredibly nervous.

You didn’t even see him at first, your attention fixated on organising the cupcakes in the glass cabinets next to the counter and reloading the flavours that had emptied out throughout the day, for your sister’s shift.

It was a while later that you finally heard his footsteps near the counter, and you glanced up to see a very nervous (pretty, too, might you add), perhaps Korean? Japanese? young man at the counter, glancing over the menu, looking absolutely confused and clueless.

He wasoddly familiar, though, in a way, but you couldn’t quite remember where you’d seen him before—he had a facemask over his face. Maybe he had a cold. It was quite chilly outside.

You supposed perhaps he was foreign—in which case, youmightbe able to help.

You were fluent in Korean, after all, from your father speaking to you and teaching you the language. Being bilingual was a skill that you had been very determined to retain, and so you had—with years of practice and learning.

Unlike your sister, who had moved to another state to study at a fancy school for medicine and forgotten how to speak Korean after two years of not using it at all, you had adamantly forced yourself to speak in Korean whenever you called your father every week. He was more than delighted at your love for the language, and was very happy to help you.

Standing up, you stretched a bit, your ankles cracking for squatting for too long, and then retied your apron, heading over to the cashier.

The expression on the young man’s face only became more worried as you asked, “Would you like to order?”

His nervousness made you nervous, too, and you started becoming stressed—should you or should you not go for it and speak in Korean? What if he wasn’t even Korean? Would that be racist? What if he got offended?

You had no idea what to do, and he tried to start by saying, “Hi, I—do you have—,” He was clearly struggling to find the words, and you gave him an understanding smile.

Shoving your worries aside, you just decided to go for it, and switched languages, “Would you prefer to place your order in Korean?”

You wished you could memorise the way his face changed, relaxing immediately in pure relief as he realised that maybe he would be able to leave this café with the seven coffees he’d been tasked to buy for his bandmates.

“Oh, my god, thank you so much,” He immediately started rambling, “I’m so sorry, I’m from South Korea and I’m only visiting and I can’t really speak English that well—,”

You laughed, “It’s okay.”

“How do you know Korean?” He said, studying you, as if trying to figure it out just by looking at you, which made you blush just a little bit.

“My dad is Korean, so I learnt from him,” You said lightly. You knew you didn’t look completely Asian, with your light hair and light eyes, so it was understandable why he might’ve been confused.

“What would you like to get?” You added onto your short explanation, starting to type at the computer just to prepare it for the order.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair, bouncing a bit as he said, “Just…I don’t know, seven coffees? My friends told me to buy seven and I don’t know what they’d like.”

“How about I make you my favourite kind?” You suggested after a few seconds of silence, his eyes staring at the menu on the wall blankly, trying to make sense of the words.

“Oh, sure, thank you,” He said, looking quite flustered, “Thanks so much. I just…get really nervous.”

“It’s alright,” You said, immediately setting off to work, first setting out seven cups and labelling them all.

“How do you say your name?” He asked, glancing at your name tag, as he watched you work.

“It’s Y/N,” You said with a half-smile, passing him the first two finished cups, “What’s your name?”

“Jimin,” He responded, fidgeting a bit, although the smile he gave you was just too cute as he took the cups, “Sorry for all the trouble. I’m sure you don’t get orders for seven too often.”

“It’s really nothing. Usually I’m the most busy in the morning, so I’m pretty free right now anyway,” You said, finish off the last few cups, “I must ask, though, what are you doing here, so long after breakfast and almost at the end of my shift?”

“Well, my friends and I have been practicing all day,” He said absently, waiting very patiently for you to finish popping the lids on, “How about you? What are you doing later on?”

“Actually, I have dance,” You said, your eyes immediately lighting up at the thought, which Jimin noted with an amused smile, “I’m actually pretty excited for it. As much as I love working here.”

“Thank you,” He said, taking the cups from your hands gently, “Good luck at your training.”

“Would you like a cupholder?” You asked, but you were going to give him one anyway, already popping out the cardboard, “It’ll be much easier to carry, rather than holding seven separate cups.”

“Sure,” He said, “Thank you so much.” He pressed a the money into your hand, which you accepted graciously.

Will I see you again tomorrow? You wanted to ask, but didn’t, because…well, if he were from overseas, or on holidays, or something like that, you didn’t want him to feel pressured to come back, so you opted to just smile, and then watch him as he pushed open the doors, turned the corner, and then he was gone.

You wondered if you’d see the pretty boy called Jimin again anytime soon. You hoped you would.

***

Park Jimin had been far too stressed than he needed to be when he’d gone into the coffee shop. It didn’t help that the girl at the counter was absolutely beautiful—and when she’d looked up at him, he had only gotten more flustered and embarrassed than he already was.

The menu was completely incomprehensible to him, and he found himself regretting having insisted to Namjoon that he would be fine on his own.

He didn’t know what he’d expected—this was America, it wasn’t like the menu would be in Korean.

And then you’d asked what he needed, and he’d just absolutely freaked out—he needed seven coffees, but how do you even say that in English? He wished Namjoon were here.

He’d know what to do.

And he’d probably not be so flustered by a pretty girl at the counter. He definitely wouldn’t be.

He hoped that you couldn’t hear his heart pounding as he’d stuttered out the words—trying to scramble for the vocabulary that he didn’t have, and he found himself panicking…

The moment he heard the first Korean word fall through your lips, he had sagged in pure, unadultered relief.

Thank god.

He probably would have just panicked and ran away at the rate he was going—what with the English menu overwhelming him, and the pretty girl looking at him.

She was so much nicer than he’d expected her to be to a foreigner who couldn’t even understand English. He’d been worried perhaps she would be annoyed at him taking so long, but instead she’d been kind and just patiently asked for what he needed.

In Korean.

What were the odds?

After you’d handed his seven coffees to him, he decided he could’ve either walked really slowly, looked back at her, and then he would have never been able to leave.

So he got out of there as quickly as he could without running. He assumed that would be considered rude—also, he didn’t want to spill the coffee he had spent so much time trying to order.

He didn’t give himself time to look back at the girl.

Even though he so desperately wanted to.

***

Training had been good today. You had run through a couple of dances with your group and also practiced through the solo contemporary you’d choreographed—the one that you would be using in your audition, along with two others.

Still dressed in your blue tank top and shorts, a towel thrown around your neck, you stepped outside of the studio and immediately regretted not bringing anything warmer.

It had gotten dark, because you’d been practicing for several hours, even though you hadn’t realised it. Time always passed faster in the studio than anywhere else, for you.

Pulling out your phone, you pressed the home button and glanced at the time, groaning. It was nine o’clock. Had you really been in there for six hours? Maybe you’d gotten too carried away.

Now your sister would probably be worried—the shop closed four hours ago. You’d told her you would be back by seven.

You slipped your phone into your pocket, taking a big sip from your water bottle and then started making your way home. Luckily, your apartment wasn’t too far away from the studio, which was one of the reasons why your parents had sent you to this one when you were six years old.

You must have been too immersed in your phone, because the next thing you knew you were running into a familiar guy, and you almost tripped.

You would have tripped in fact, if Jimin hadn’t thrown out a hand and caught your wrist with his lightning fast reflexes.

“Y/N?” He said, his eyes wide. You noted his dishevelled hair and tired-looking eyes, and his attire—and realised that he must’ve just come from the dance studio, too. Or perhaps, he was returning, based on the direction he was going.

“Oh, hey, Jimin,” You said, instinctively in Korean, before you panicked, tucking your phone into your pocket, slipping into English again, “I didn’t expect to—,” and then you realised that Jimin did, in fact, understand Korean, and that for once it hadn’t been an embarrassing slip-up of yours out of panic. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry. My bilingual brain gets really mixed up sometimes...” You switched back to Korean, your cheeks heating, avoiding his gaze, “Thanks for saving me from falling.”

He looked thoroughly amused as he finally let go of you and asked, “Do you dance here, too?”

“Yeah, I have since I was six,” You answered, finally mustering the courage to meet his eyes, “Why are you coming from the studio? Do you live nearby?”

With his eyes so focused on you, not only did you feel heat rise up your neck, flustered, but you also noted how oddly familiar his face was. As if he existed somewhere in your memory, but your brain couldn’t quite figure out where. Or, rather, how he existed there.

“No, my bandmates and I are visiting here, and we’re just using one of the studio spaces here for our training,” He explained with a smile.

“Oh,” You said shortly, unsure of what else you should add to the conversation as you looked up at him, meeting his eyes shyly, “Where were you headed, Jimin?”

“I forgot my phone back at the studio,” He said with a chuckle, one hand reaching to the nape of his neck, “I was just going back to grab it.”

“Oh, makes sense,” You said, smiling uncertainly, “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then…?”

Just as you made to leave, he gently snagged your shirt sleeve, and you turned back around to face him.

He was biting his lip, looking incredibly nervous—you found it quite endearing, really, as he began to speak, “Hey, Y/N, would you be down for a late night snack? I can grab my phone and we can go down the road to a nice place for…some food? Or if you’re not hungry then…?” He suggested, an awkward, (super cute) smile tilting the corner of his lip upwards, his cheeks dimpling.

Oh, my god, who allowed him to be this adorable? Who had the right?

You laughed, surged by a sudden rush of confidence as you said, “Oh, let’s go get boba! I’ve had coffee for months now, it’d be so nice to get something different. I know a place just a few minutes’ walk from here.”

He looked impossibly relieved and also smiled excitedly, like a puppy, you couldn’t help but point out in your head, giggling at the thought, “Of course, that sounds amazing. Would you mind waiting for me? I’ll just be a minute.”

Jimin was back in barely a minute—it was probably thirty seconds at most. You’d never met anybody so efficient, while still looking so effortless and graceful as he came over to you.

“So, boba, you said?” He asked, and you, powered by that sudden adrenaline rush from before, took his hand impulsively in yours, and said, “I know a place. Let’s go.”

The boba was amazing. In fact, you’d forgotten how good boba tasted, with how much coffee you had been drinking. It had been ages since you’d had the time to come here, and the place was even nicer with Jimin here.

You’d made sure to send a text to your sister, just so that she wouldn’t get too worried, before you’d gone with Jimin. He was surprisingly an expert at bubble tea, and he easily told you what he’d like, and you spoke the orders to the teenage girl at the counter in English for him.

He just watched you with so much fascination and…something else…as you slid the coins across the counter to the small girl, who accepted them with a smile.

When you finally finished paying, you took the receipt and led Jimin to the seats next to the counter to wait for your orders.

“Do you have boba often in Korea?” You said, taking a long sip from your straw and groaning in pure bliss, “This stuff is literally heavenly.”

“Sometimes,” Jimin said with a shrug, taking a sip from his own drink, “We’re usually on diets though, for our training.”

“Oh, yeah, you mentioned bandmates, right? What do you guys do?” You asked curiously, genuinely interested.

Suddenly, Jimin became very nervous, and he started fidgeting with his shirt, running his other hand through his hair, “Well, uh—,”

“You don’t have to say, if you don’t want to,” You offered gently, “Only if you want to. We’re just here talking, after all. No pressure.”

He smiled appreciatively, but he explained anyway, “Have you ever heard about BTS?”

“Oh, the kpop group? Yeah, they’re pretty popular right now—wait a second,” You studied his face, furrowing your eyebrows…

And then suddenly it hit you.

“Oh, my god, you’re Jimin, right?” You said in a surprised whisper, “From BTS?” He barely had time to nod in confirmation before you continued, “That’s so cool! So that’s why you looked familiar.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, tilting his head a little.

“My college dormmate had a poster of you on the wall,” You explained, your eyes bright with excitement, not even noticing the slight flush that rose to his cheeks at your statement, “How did I not realise earlier? That’s so weird. What are you doing in America?”

“We’re performing at the AMA’s in a week,” He explained, “So we’re just here to do that. And I met you by coincidence, too, so that’s an extra bonus.”

You blushed a little, but you didn’t let that cover over your pure shock, “Wow, that’s so cool. I never really listened to you guys, but from what I’ve heard you’re pretty cool, aren’t you?”

Jimin laughed, “Oh, well, I guess we’re alright.”

It was when both of you fell silent that you realised that in your excitement, you had leaned in really close to him over the table—so close you were almost touching, and quickly you moved back, totally embarrassed.

If you’d only just moved a tiny bit closer you would have—

There were a few seconds of silence before you calmed your frantic brain and said, “So, how’s the boba?”

***

Jimin explained how it would be best if the fact that he was a famous Korean idol could remain a secret—for your own safety. And you agreed, obviously. It obviously meant a lot, but at the end of the day, he was Jimin, the guy you’d met at the coffee shop and the guy who you’d helped to order his seven coffees.

Now you understood why he had needed seven coffees earlier that day.

You made sure that you didn’t leave that boba shop without asking for his number, and he gave it to you, telling you that you could send him a text at any time—he would make sure to respond whenever he could.

It was four days later, after spending a lot of time at the studio talking between rehearsals, when you invited Jimin to the coffee shop, just to hang out. You’d been given the closing shift, and you thought it’d give you something to look forward to.

Even your sister noted how you were being far bubblier than you usually were, but you’d shrugged it off, blaming it on just ‘having a good day’.

Jimin had said he’d only be able to get there at eight, so you sat in the shop, doing paperwork, until he arrived.

Jimin was dressed in a hoodie this time, and his face lit up when he saw you, just as you were sure yours had done.

“Jimin!” You exclaimed as he pushed through the doors and came into the warmth of the coffee shop, “How was practice today?”

“Good. I didn’t see you at the studio?”

“I have practice tomorrow,” You explained, “I was here for most of the day today, helping my sister unpack some of the deliveries.”

He just nodded and smiled, making his way towards your table and pulling out a seat opposite to you, glancing at the work you were doing, “How was your day?”

“I did lots of work,” You said, smiling, “I actually applied to an audition today—it’s going to be in a month.”

Jimin looked genuinely impressed, even though the moment the words left your mouth, you realised that your achievements probably meant nothing compared to all of the massive things he and his band had done.

“Do you want a coffee?” You said, just to break the silence, as you stood up from your chair and pushed it in with a loud scrape.

“Sure, thank you,” He said, biting his lip, looking nervous and unsure of what to say, “The usual one. Your favourite, right? I think it’s my favourite, too.”

“You haven’t tried any others from here yet, Jimin,” You said with a light laugh, starting to make the coffee, “Someday you should.”

“Nope, I like yours the most,” He said with a shrug, taking a few steps more so that he was standing almost shoulder to shoulder with you, watching you work.

As you finished, setting the two glasses by the sink, you turned around—only to find yourself in extremely close proximity to his chest.

He towered over you, but when you looked up, his lips were millimetres away from yours—so incredibly close—and you felt heat crawl up your neck.

“Jimin,” You said, breathless, “Your coffee’s done.”

He didn’t look at the coffee once. His gaze was fixated on you—and it made your heart race.

You went to say something, but couldn’t find the words, and then suddenly your lips met. The kiss was slow and gentle, and he snaked his arms around your hips gently, pulling you close, as your fingers became entangled in his beautiful hair.

It was several moments later that the two of you finally pulled apart, and you just looked at each other—you took several seconds to admire how beautiful and warm his eyes were.

“Jimin,” You said softly.

“Hmm?”

“Your coffee’s going to go cold.”

And then he burst into laughter—and you started giggling, and you were both so consumed with the pure euphoria from your kiss that you did it again—this time, you pulled him close and pressed your lips to his.

Later, when you went to reach for your coffee and his, passing his to him gently, it was indeed cold. But neither of you cared.

Because between the warmth of Jimin’s eyes and his kisses, you barely felt the coolness of the glass between your fingers.

a/n second fic! im in love <3