#on the computer is a lot easier than in person or on the phone so

[space-kittie]

I'm blown away fr. I've been insanely productive today and can now actually feel good to give myself a bit of a viddy gaem break before continuing to be productive for a bit more and then calling it a day. Like I fucking hit it out of the park today!!!

Good job me ~

[olderthannetfic]

This is going to be an obvious question to anyone who's familiar with the language, but how does one type in Chinese? All the languages I've studied have had alphabetic writing systems, so to me foreign language typing is just assigning different letters on the keyboard and hitting them in order the same as English.

I imagine there's some way of entering the elements of each glyph with a command that tells it where to place it? I tried googling and just got a bunch of articles about how autocorrect can suggest Chinese characters when a user types the words in pinyin, but this sounds like a laborious and clunky system for someone who reads and writes Chinese fluently, and it wouldn't nessecarily exist on all devices.

--

(same anon wondering about typing Chinese characters) I also figure that if converting from pinyin was the primary or only way to get digital Chinese characters, then a lot more online spaces would just use pinyin in the first place and save everyone the trouble. The people writing multichapter fanfics or chatting away on social media in Chinese definitely have a fluent way to type their language that probably doesn't involve converting the entire text from an unrelated writing system, but these articles just aren't telling me what it is.

Ahahaha. Anon... phonetic entry is so much easier than other methods.

No, nobody enters characters while typing by picking radicals and where to place them. There are ways to look up an unfamiliar character that use radicals. There are also apps that let you try to draw something by hand, then attempt to figure out what you drew. But, again, that's for unfamiliar things, not typing up a story.

Computers were developed by English speakers and others with alphabets. Phonetic entry would probably be easiest anyway, but with the early infrastructure geared towards it, it's definitely easier.

There was an interesting phenomenon in Japanese (I'm not sure about Chinese) where The Youth™ were using fewer and fewer complex or less common kanji in... I want to say the 80s or 90s. The usual suspects moaned about the death of literacy...

Then cell phone/computer typing came along. If you knew the word, you didn't have to remember every single detail of how to write it. And people responded by using hella kanji all over the place, including lots of much rarer characters that a person would often recognize on sight but not remember perfectly enough to write by hand with confidence.

English spelling is tricky, but just learning 26 letters and then using them in a way that makes sense to a native speaker of [whatever] isn't. People are going to know pinyin. It's not a hardship to use it.

[yoongihan]

Happenstance - SCB - OneShot

pairing: 3rachaChangbin x femcharacter

genre: travel au, fluff, smut, little angst, strangers to lovers,

romantic trope: love at first sight (inspiration from this reel)

word count: ~18k

rating: M

warnings: mc invites strangers to dinner amongst other things (DO NOT RECOMMEND), kissing, penetrative sex, ridiculous amount of haggis discussion, food and drink, some language, changbin with fluffy hair, dressed in hoodies. honestly, i don't think there's too much concerning in this one, apologies if I've missed something.

a/n: fic #4 in skz as romantic tropes collab with @jl-micasea-fics. in case you read my answers to asks, this is the first story i started that i didn't finish until yesterday (I apologize for every single mistake that i probably missed). which means, this took me over seven months. i have no idea why something as 'simple' as love at first sight required me to write nearly 18000 words!! anyway, um, hope you like it.

--------

You don’t really mind being alone. It’s a lot easier to just pack up your stuff, yourself and go on your adventures when you don’t have to consider another person and their preferences.

It gets lonely, but it works for you.

At the train station with your backpack and one rolling suitcase, waiting for your train in London at Kings Cross station that will take you to Edinburgh. It’s a long journey, over eleven hours, but you saved up and for the very first time, got yourself a sleeper cabin. There weren’t any singles available, as the classic cabin comes with twin bunk beds, but you figure the extra space can’t hurt. 

Who’d go with you anyway?

You bounce on the balls of your feet, waiting for the train. This experience is less about the scenery as it’s mostly at night, but the getting to sleep in a bed (the sleeper seats aren’t horrible, but they aren’t exactly great if you really want a good night’s rest) on a train is something you haven’t gotten to do yet. 

You like Scotland and you haven’t been since you started this work. Inverness sits at the top of Loch Ness, and there are so many picturesque places to visit once you’re there. Then you’ll take the train back, but during the day, so you get to see what you couldn’t on the overnight train. 

You have one earbud in, listening to a soft playlist you made mostly full of Sufjan Stevens, Fleet Foxes, and Band of Horses. Only one earbud as you need to make sure you hear any important announcements and you also really enjoy eavesdropping, especially when everyone has a much more interesting accent than you. You’re glancing back at the announcement board as though something might have changed in the last minute (it would just be the worst luck if it got canceled…what would you do in London…go to a museum or something?). 

The train is arriving and you just want to dance around like a fool. No one should be this excited to sleep on a train, but you are. As you queue behind a few others, you glance down the track, taking in the people who will presumably be sleeping near you. It seems like a diverse group, some people dressed nicer than you, as though they are having a work meeting on the train (with computer and phone cameras…maybe they are), some look like they might already have on their pyjamas. There are heads of grey and white, long plaits of blonde and red, fluffy short black hair. 

All types. 

You board and glance at the signage, looking for the arrows to connect you to cabin 25. Slipping past a family of three who are speaking in what sounds like German to your unknowledgeable ear, you glance at the descending numbers. 

There’s a small scanner on the door (how far tech has come), and you scan your phone over it, the QR code for your ticket allowing you access. As you open the door, you look down at the male voices coming from the other end of the carriage. 

There are three of them. 

In your travels, you see a lot of people, but unless it’s a commuter-type train during work or drinking hours, you don’t run into men of a certain age, and certainly not on an overnighter covering the length of England. 

Certain age being mostly like twenties, mid-twenties if you had to guess. And though you’ve definitely seen a good-looking man a time or two, it’s rare to see them en masse like this. One is carrying two duffle bags, his hair a wavy platinum blonde. He is attempting to pull out his phone and scan like you just had. The second one is whining about the first one taking too long. It’s not really complaining, because he wears a smile in between the pouts. In fact, when he glances over the third’s head, he sees you and smiles brilliantly. 

You smile back, embarrassed at being caught staring, but if you blushed every time you did something socially forward, you would be a permanent tomato. 

The door finally opens for them and that’s when the third one turns around, presumably because he noticed the second one looking at you. He’s the shortest, and even before he turns, you notice that he’s very broad from the back, despite the guitar case blocking your view. 

When his eyes meet yours, your brain definitely tucks away the recognition that he’s wearing black-framed glasses, eyes a warm brown, black hair curly and fluffy, completely dressed in a black t-shirt, black joggers, and black sneakers (a motif one might say). You see all of that, but it doesn’t really connect.

Because something happens. 

No lightning from the sky, or voice, or whatever occurs when something big changes. You’re just oddly aware that your heart is beating at a rate that only occurs when you're winded, that your anticipation has gotten more like anxiety, and you would very much like to ask his name. 

So you disappear into your cabin, not sure of anything anymore. 

“It said four.”

“Well, there’s two, Chan.”

“But it said four.”

You sit on the bottom bunk, watching the fading sunlight out the window, your heart rate seeming to slow down. The fact that you can hear your neighbors’ conversation doesn’t bode well for your sleeping tonight. 

But you always pack earplugs. 

“Must be a mix-up. Find a…what do they call them?”

“Station agent?”

“Porter?”

“Train guy?”

You cover your mouth so you don’t laugh too loudly at the final suggestion. You stand up and start to unpack your few things; pajamas, toiletries, two books, and journal. You can hear one of them opening the door and calling down the corridor. 

“Yes sir.” It’s a few minutes (you’ve actually journaled a whole page by this point) when there’s footsteps and a response. 

“I booked for three people, for one of the cabins with two sets of bunk beds.”

“Ah yes…” There’s a clearing of one throat. “We only have a small amount of those, and unfortunately the original train set for this journey had to be changed at last minute. Mechanical issues. You were refunded.”

“That’s not very helpful as I still have only two beds and three people.”

Another clearing of the throat. 

“Yes, well, the train is fully booked. I can supply another set of sheets and pillows.”

“You’re saying our only option is one of us to sleep on the floor?”

“I am very sorry, sir.”

There’s a couple of very very deep sighs. 

“Thank you anyway.”

The ‘train guy’ must leave because you hear furtive discussion; with foreign words you aren’t sure about, but it seems like ‘rock, paper, scissors’ has the same rhythm no matter the language.  

You are on the top bunk, eyes moving from your book to your door. 

It’s dumb, even for you, but you feel like you have to. You have decent intuition about people, at least on a level if they are dangerous or not. And none of your neighbors set off your warning bells or mental red flags. 

So you jump down and open your cabin door, leaving it open in case you need to run back in and like, hide due to extreme embarrassment. 

One deep breath and you knock on their door.

It opens and the blonde stands there, you can see the other two behind him. 

“Hey neighbor,” the blonde greets you with a weary smile, but a smile nonetheless. It makes you grin more easily.

“Hi,” you introduce yourself. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but I heard…” You wave with your hand at the beds in their room. “I have an extra bed.”

All three of them sort of freeze at your words. You don’t blame them. You are an unaccompanied female on a trip, talking to three men you don’t know. Offering a place to sleep to a stranger. 

“You…aren’t serious?” The one who had been whining earlier spoke up first. 

“I think she is,” the third one…the one you actually can’t look at closely right now (though his voice is enough to set your heart rate back up to jumpy). 

“I am.” You shrug. “I know it’s weird. I don’t know you guys. But there’s dinner in the dining car in like an hour. We could have dinner? Chat? Make sure none of us is a serial killer?” 

Are you asking three men out? 

“One of you needs a bed. I have one. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” says the blonde. “But…” He looks at his friends (you assume, maybe they’re all together which makes your proposal of dinner even more awkward), “We do need a bed.” He looks back at you. “I’m Chan. We’ll have dinner, and no hard feelings if you decide to take it back.”

His smile is warm and you would swear in a court of law that this man is one of the safest humans on the planet. 

“Deal.”

“Jisung,” He points to the one that had smiled at you so brilliantly. He grins again, but it’s shy. 

“Changbin.”

Oh. 

So you meet his eyes again for a second time, hoping you’re prepared. 

It’s still there, maybe less surprising because you are expecting it. You know his name now. You know that he still hasn’t smiled at you (which feels tragic somehow), but doesn’t look angry or disgusted by you (a triumph to be sure).

He seems perplexed, which you can’t blame him for. Your offer is certainly perplexing.

“Nice to meet you,” you stutter a little, but deliver your name without too much embarrassment. “So, I’ll see you in an hour?”

There are verbal affirmations and some nodding and you hurry back, wondering if you can even focus on anything other than the fact that you might be sleeping with in the same cabin with one of them later. 

–

You question yourself as you walk to the dining car (you did your makeup and now you think you’re a little silly), wondering if they’ll even show. Like how damn strange are you to offer a bed to three men you do not know? They probably don’t even want to be near you now.

There’s a host at the front of the carriage and you give him your cabin number. 

“I’m waiting on someone…s.” And your ability to speak has been hijacked by your nerves. You’ve spent the last hour in your cabin, earbuds in so you don’t eavesdrop on anything you might hear from next door (not that they only speak in English, but still. It feels invasive). Your mind has tumbled over itself trying to understand what you had done, had said, and the eeriness of how the third man affects you.

Changbin. 

He isn’t your type, as pointless as you think having a type even is. You’ve never found impressive muscles all that impressive.

But...

“Someones? How many?” The host asks you and you feel weirdly interrogated by him, like maybe he doesn’t believe anyone would be sitting with you. That you’d lie about something like that. For what? A table to yourself?

“Um, I think, three.” Confidence would probably be a handy thing right now. 

“Three?”

You open your mouth to reiterate the number of guests when you feel a presence behind you. And you know, even though this is the closest he’s ever been that it’s him. 

“Three,” he states, voice scratchy. You feel his gaze on you. “The other two are coming.”

You swallow and look over. 

But…he is really attractive. 

He’s wearing trousers and a button-down. The dining car does encourage more formal dress and you’ve even slipped on a skirt and nice top for it. His hair is still fluffy and he still wears the glasses, which makes him look way more scholarly than he had just an hour ago. 

“Hi.”

He hasn’t given you much to go on if he feels the same strangeness when you meet eyes or even if he is aware of you beyond that you exist. But there’s a lift at the corner of his lips, a hint of a smirk or smile and it’s devastating. 

“Hey,” he replies, still with that half-grin. “You look nice.”

Oh god, he complimented you?!

“Um, thanks.” You try and pretend that your brain can engage quicker than it is currently. “You do too.” You gesture vaguely. “I like the glasses.”

You do not know this man and yet when the half-grin grows into a full grin, maybe a touch bashful, it feels very familiar and comforting. Like you’ve never seen him smile before and it’s beautiful, but also, that’s exactly how you feel he should smile.

What the fuck is going on right now?

“Jisung can’t tie a tie to save his life, so Chan’s doing it for him,” he explains before looking at the host. “Can we sit or do we have to wait until they get here?”

“We prefer the parties to be all present when–”

“Sure thing.” Changbin makes eye contact with you again and you know that he’s amused at the level of formality the host is emanating. “We’ll be here.” He gestures for you to move over to the side so the next people waiting can move up. He follows and leans against the carriage wall next to you. 

He’s not uncomfortably close by any means, but there’s not ample amounts of space in trains, so he’s close.

He smells good.

“So, what brings you and um, your friends to Scotland?” you begin, willing confidence into your voice and posture. He’s watching the entrance to the dining car but glances at you, the mirthful turn of his lips coming back. 

“Ah, well, inspiration.”

You straighten up. You don’t know what you expected, but that wasn’t it. 

“Really? For what?”

He regards you for another second or two, like he’s seeing if you’re really interested, or if you can be trusted. 

“What’s your guess?”

Way to put you on the spot.

“Damn, that’s unfair.”

He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest (ARMS). “Yeah, how so?”

“Anything I say will be based on stereotypes. Like I met you an hour ago.”

“Still invited one of us to bed.”

His voice drops with those words and you wonder if he can see the shiver that goes through you (you try and not visibly react, but holy fuck). 

“Yes, well, no red flags.”

His eyebrows raise. “Really?”

You shrug. “Yeah. Unless my detection skills for serial killers are rusty.”

The half-grin again. “Hmm. How do you know your skills are even competent?” His eyes widened. “Have you met a serial killer?”

You laugh because he seems to legitimately think you might have. And there’s something really refreshing about the fact that he has no idea what field you’re in. Maybe you have.

“You first.”

He eyes you with concession. “Musicians. You?”

“Musicians? Really?” 

“No…” he points at you. “You have to say what you do.”

“No I don’t.”

That’s when his friends arrive, with you and a man you don’t know staring at each other in a mock-battle of wits.

“Interrupting something?” Chan says, nearly laughing.

“She…” Changbin starts then his shoulders drop. “I don’t even know.” He glares at you with no malice before going back to the host. 

“Hi again,” you greet them both. Also dressed in somewhat formal attire, Chan and Jisung are as handsome as the man you are thrown by. 

“Hi,” Chan replies and behind him Jisung waves in tiny . 

All of you are ushered to your table. You sit next to the carriage window even though it’s nearly too dark to see outside. There’s a moment of awkwardness as the three of them seem to nonverbally communicate as to where to sit. 

Changbin sits next to you. HIs arm brushes yours as he gets situated and it happens again: the heartbeat, the anticipation, but it’s mellower, more familiar. 

A server comes to the table and the next few minutes are spent in ordering food and drink. You all decide to get a bottle of wine to share.

“So, Changbin says your musicians?” you begin before taking a sip of the merlot, swishing it around in your mouth as though that would tell you something. You’ve done a wine tour or five, and you kinda get it, but you don’t really. It’s just wine. 

You can see both Jisung and Chan look at Changbin in surprise. 

“Oh, he did?” Chan asks, something underlying the innocuous remark. Teasing of some kind; as guys often do. “Yeah.”

“I saw a guitar.” They all look at you and you flush a bit. “I mean, when I saw you guys coming down the hall. There was a guitar case.”

“Observant.” You can just tell Changbin is paying attention. If only to figure out what you do.

“A bit.”

“Musicians…” Chan begins. “Is a little misleading. We can all play, but…” He takes a sip of wine. “We don’t play, like, one of us on drums, a bass, and an electric guitar.” 

“So, non-traditional.” You rest your chin in your hand. 

“We rap,” Jisung says, twisting his wine glass by the stem. “Me and Bin mostly, Chan does the beats, mixes.”

“Ohhhh.” You straighten up. “Okay, that’s awesome…so, do you have a gig in Edinburgh?”

“No, just to write,” Chan sighs. “We’ve been a little stuck lately and yeah.” He looks so despondent about it, so you pat his hand before taking another sip of your wine. He smiles at you like the physical comfort is normal.

“We have a deadline for a full album and we’re way behind,” Changbin explains further and you look over at him. 

“You all are represented and everything? That’s amazing.”

He waves it away as the other two verbally dismiss such an accomplishment. “What about you? What do you do?”

You grin at Changbin’s apparent annoyance that you’ve kept it from him for this long. The corner of his lips lifts in an almost smirk.

Fuck, it’s attractive. 

“Um. Content creator.”

There’s a collection of laughs from them.

“So are we,” Changbin says, leaning a bit closer. “Wanna be more specific?” 

You know you don’t have a great poker face, so when he gets that close, you’re sure all three of them can see that you’re affected. Your face heats, and your breath catches just for a split second.

When have you ever been this partial to a stranger before?

“Travel. Writer, vlogger,” you answer with a lift of your shoulders. He leans back and it’s like you can breathe easier. “I’ve never done a sleeper train before, so here I am.”

There’s a moment where they are all quiet, looking at you with various expressions of incredulity.

“You get paid to travel?”

You laugh at Jisung’s question. “Kinda? I mean, I go and make the content before I’m paid, hoping that someone will want it…monetize it, etc.” It’s always an interesting thing, to see what people think when you explain how you make a living. Some think you must be famous (not even close), or full of shit (maybe you are, but not about work), or some place along that spectrum. 

“That’s amazing,” Changbin speaks next, his tone more thoughtful than sarcastic or derogatory. 

“I’m jealous. I’m so freakin jealous,” Jisung pouts and then sips his wine. “Wait, so when you took a picture of the wine bottle and glass with your lipstick stain on it…it was for work.”

You nod. “It’s honestly the only time I wear lipstick. I kind of hate it most of the time.” You add credence to your words by wiping off your lips with a tissue from the tissue pack you always keep in your purse. Then doing the same to the glass. “Lipstick residue never comes off in the dishwasher…I used to wash for the local tavern in my hometown. The worst.” 

They’re all three looking at you again with various expressions. You think the expressions are positive, but you’ve only known them for an hour and most of that hour you were in your cabin, journaling. 

“Do you have a niche?” Chan asks, “Like a specific type of travel or anything?”

You shrug. “I like train travel. This is my first sleeper cabin, so that’ll be of some focus. But I have a few places in Edinburgh to capture as well.”

“And you can live off of this?” Changbin answers. “Why the fuck are we writing music?” 

You laugh with the others at his thunderstruck question. You turn a bit more toward him, watching how his gaze drops to your now-naked lips then back to your eyes. 

“Because you love it. I assume.” You feel your cheeks heat when he smiles at your sentimentality. The waiter returns to receive your orders, and you try not to smile too large that everyone orders something different. You hope they’ll let you photo each meal. 

“Why Scotland for inspiration?”

Both Changbin and Jisung look at Chan who shrugs, a bit sheepish. 

“Always wanted to. We spend most of our time in South Korea or Australia, so this seemed like something different.”

“‘Stairway to Heaven’ was written on Loch Ness, too,” Jisung offers.

“Yeah, in the house of the creepy af Aleister Crowley…” You lean forward and drop your voice. “You’re not going there, are you?”

“No,” Changbin chuckles. “But you know that story?”

“I’m full of useless knowledge,” you answer. 

“How long have you been doing this?” Changbin asks you. “The traveling and vlogging?”

“A while. The living off of it, only a few years.” You shake your head when he opens his mouth. “My turn. Tell me about how you three became rappers, musicians, a crew.”

“Gonna use it in your content?” Chan asks, a touch of amusement, but also more caution. 

You shake your head. “Not without permission. And usually my stuff is less with people and more places, food, drink. I will totally ask if I can take a photo of each of your meals.”

“I guess that’s okay,” Changbin says. “If you get part of my hand, though, I expect compensation.”

And with that joking remark, your eyes immediately focus on his hands. That’s not a feature you usually think much about in your attraction to men. It takes more about personality and smile, and maybe a lanky form. 

But it says everything about this whole strange experience that when you look at his hands, you actually shiver.

God, this is so damn weird.

“Of course,” You answer. “Also…you didn’t answer. How did you three meet?”

Again, both Changbin and Jisung look at Chan.

“You’re in charge, huh?”

Chan blushes, which is adorable. “I mean…kinda, but just cause I started us…”

“What he will never say is that he studied music production and then found us at the same school, basically said ‘fuck school let’s do our own thing’ and we’ve saved money on tuition and made money…though nothing like insane.” Changbin leans back in his chair, his arm falling to the back of mine before his eyes widen and he drops it. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve already invited one of you into my cabin…What are social rules at this point?” You just have no filter today, but the answering laughter from them is comforting. “Since you asked me, what is your niche? Like love songs?”

“Rap love songs?” Jisung asks, mildly disgusted. 

“Love songs is a pretty wide spectrum,” you argue. “From unrequited, to innocent, attraction to just sex, broken hearts, betrayal, cheating. It’s all over the place.” Your question isn’t all that random. Out of the corner of your eye, you’re watching Changbin the moment you mention ‘love’ as though he might say or do something that’ll give you indication that he’s also feeling the same lunacy that you are undergoing.

Nothing. Nothing but just him listening and having a piece of the rustic bread dipped in olive oil the server placed on your table. 

“She has a point. We do write love songs if that’s the umbrella,” Chan says and Jisung pouts again, but while he’s chewing on the bread, his cheeks full, and he looks just like a small woodland creature. “But I wouldn't ever market them as love songs.”

“Doesn’t fit the hip hop crew vibe?”

Changbin snorts. “Not so much.”

“So. What do you write about?” You plop your chin in your hand. “I admit my rap and hip hop knowledge is less than my obscure trivia about Boleskine House.”  

Jisung speaks up, “Just stuff we’re dealing with.” He glances at Chan. “Probably more about growing up and figuring out who you are more than anything.”

“Relatable,” you reply on an exhaled breath. All three of them smile. “Sorry, that was pretty obvious. I guess everyone is still figuring it all out, huh?”

The food arrives a few minutes later and after you get the perfect shots of all the dishes (there are a few with their hands because it’s too aesthetic not to do so) the conversation turns to places to see and visit in Edinburgh and the surrounding areas, things to do, etc. 

“Oh, I’ll definitely try haggis,” you say. 

“Really?” Jisung makes a face. “Isn’t it like…gross?”

“I tend to try most food at least once. I’ve already done blood pudding.” Which means you have to explain it to them. The trio of disgusted faces makes you laugh. “It’s not bad with ketchup.” 

“Bin would probably do the same, though.” Jisung points at him with a beef-laden fork. “He eats anything.”

You turn to Changbin, noting the slight reddening in his cheeks and narrow-eyed glare he gives to Jisung. 

“It’s called being adventurous,” you say in support. “And food is a gift.” You gesture to your plate. “Case in point.”

“A gift?” Chan prompts. 

“I mean, we didn’t have to have taste buds, right? Like we could just have evolved or been created, whatever your origin stance is, without. Food could just be sustenance, something we do without thought, like breathing. But we have all these receptors that give us pleasure.”

“Or disgust,” Jisung says before taking another bite, the cheeks filling out again. 

“Is there pleasure without pain?” 

“Jeez, we got deep,” Chan says, chuckling.

“Could be your next song. The listener will think it’s about life or sex or whatever, but it’s just the three of you debating about food.”

“Life or sex or whatever?” Changbin repeats, turning a little toward you. You make eye contact (maybe you’ve had too much wine), eyebrows up in curiosity. He gestures that you should continue. 

“All literature, and I’d include lyrics in that, boils down to being about love or death. Or simply sex or death.”

Again, it might be the wine, but you swear that when you mention sex his eyes focus more on you. There’s just a slight flicker. 

“And that’s not an original,” you quickly say before going back to your meal. “I learned that in the infinite amount of Lit classes I took in college.” 

“I guess that’s true.” Chan looks thoughtful. “Our songs about identity and growing up is pretty much about doing what you can before death.”

“Speaking of getting deep,” Changbin says. “We should go back to talking about food.” 

“Or pleasure?” Jisung teases. 

Chan cuffs him on the back of the head. He just grins at his friend like being physically chastised is commonplace. 

Probably is. 

It’s brief, the moment of melancholy that hits you when you think of this three-person friendship and how so much of what you do is solitary. 

You blink it away and take another bite of your sea bass, listening to them discuss Edinbrugh castle and the village they have an AirBnb in after two days in the city. 

“Please?” Jisung whines. “We can share the molten chocolate cake?” 

Chan rolls his eyes. “But I don’t want any.”

“I’ll share it with you, Jisung,” you offer. “That or the cheesecake sounds really good.”

“We could do both.”

You giggle at his excited expression. “We could do that.”

“Amazing,” Jisung is thrilled. “You are amazing.” 

“I am often lauded for my sweet tooth.” 

“Only for your sweet tooth?”

The lower tone makes you look at Changbin again. Chan is ‘scolding’ Jisung on the other side of the table about too many sweets and how he’ll be hyper and not sleep, so for the second time this evening, it looks like you and Changbin are speaking alone. 

“Only?” you ask to clarify.

He grins. “I mean, you just used the word ‘lauded’ in regular conversation. I feel like you might get compliments in general.”

“For using big words? Or weird ones? Not really.” 

“Well.” He regards you for a few seconds, eyes not leaving your face. “It’s impressive.”

Your face heats before you can deflect and you drop your gaze because his is overwhelming. 

“Thanks.” 

Dessert is ordered and when received, devoured (even by Chan). When the bill comes, there’s an argument about letting them pay for you, which is won by Jisung saying that since he ‘bullied’ you into getting dessert with him, they should cover it all. You acquiesce only because you convince them to let you get breakfast tomorrow morning (wow, isn’t that suggestive). 

You’ve never been walked to your door before by three men. Granted, they’re just next door and you’ve also never been walked to a train cabin door before. But you recognize that if anyone paid attention to your little party, they might be envious.

You’re kinda envious. Of yourself.

Three of you pause at your door. Jisung continues to the cabin before realizing that everyone else has stopped and readily looks abashed as he comes back the six feet. 

“So,” you begin, scanning your phone over the pad on the door. “I don’t think any one of us is an axe murderer.”

There’s a collective chuckle.

“Who uses axes anymore,” Jisung says before considering. “I don’t suppose that really helps my case.”

Chan pops him lightly on the back of the head again. “I think,” he says to you. “That whoever can just sleep on the extra bed. We’ll keep all our stuff and such in our cabin. If you’re still okay with this. It’s really alright if you’re not. Ax murderers or not, it’s your space.”

You glance at Changbin, remembering the warmth of his arm when it pressed against yours randomly through dinner. 

“That’s fine. I guess brushing your teeth in front of a stranger is pretty weird.”

You hear Changbin’s snort of amusement before looking at him again. It’s hard not to stare at him. It was actually good he sat next to you during dinner, so you had to make the effort to look at him, so it was easy to tell and force yourself not to. Because that’s what you want to do. Memorize everything about him. The line of his jaw, the placement of his dimples when he grins, the rapid-fire of his laugh. 

God, you’re going to need some serious time to process what is going on with you. 

“Yeah, just knock whenever,” you continue, forcing yourself to look away from him. “I’ll probably stay up for a bit to journal and take some notes.”

You don’t ask who will be using the empty bed in your cabin. It’s too weird, beyond what this already is, but you are trying not to give away the way one man keeps stealing your attention and focus. 

You have never done a one-night stand and you don’t think that in a train cabin next to his friends would be a good place to start. 

You bid them a good night and enter your cabin. You lean on the closed door and let out a huge sigh before hurriedly getting ready for bed in the worry that maybe one of them will show up soon.

Also, you probably don’t need all your underthings just out to be seen.

You settle in your pajamas (sweatshirt and shorts because you always forget to buy fun pjs) and situate your laptop and journal in the bottom bunk. More time passes than you think it would take a guy to get ready, but it is kind of early to go to sleep, so you work on just focusing on organizing and writing copy for what you captured today. 

You’re working on describing your supper in good detail when there’s a knock on your cabin door. 

You almost fall in your stumble to get to the door, opening it and staring.

“Hey.”

Changbin, dressed in a sleeveless t-shirt and nylon shorts, stands there, the half-grin in place. He has a small backpack over his shoulder. 

“Hi.” You step back to let him in, watching as he closes the door behind him. “It’s a good look.” You speak before thinking. 

He laughs, leaning on the door. “Thanks, I try.” His eyes drop to take in your sleepwear. “Also, a good look.”

“Scantily-clad lingerie is so overrated.”

“Is it?”

God, you really shouldn’t have wine.

“Um, I took the bottom bunk.” You point to the beds. “Hope that’s okay.”

“It’s your room. I’m just grateful to not have to sleep on the floor. Or try and drown out Jisung’s snoring.” He moves easily toward the beds, climbing up to the top, slinging his bag on the mattress. 

“No axes in there?”

He plops down, legs having over the side and his grin widens. “Just a tiny one. In case I need to defend myself.”

“From me?” 

“Or Dementors.”

It’s easy to laugh and it decreases the tension a little especially when he swings his legs as you move back to your little nest on your bed. 

“So. What’re you doing?” He moves so he’s laying down and looking over the side of the bunk at you. You look up, finding the fact that you chose to put the man on top of you (with space and a bed in between but still) probably a dumb dumb idea. 

“Working. Or more like brainstorming. I still need to figure out where I want to go, when, how, etc. I make itineraries, but really flexible ones because if I’m too rigid, I don’t have fun.”

“Makes sense.” He goes quiet for a second. “Can I…be really self-involved for a second?”

“Absolutely. It’s encouraged.”

He grins again and hurries down to the floor next to where you have tucked yourself in. He gestures to the open space at the foot.

You nod and he sits before offering wireless headphones. 

“Want to listen to something we finished last week?”

“Absolutely,” you say again, reaching out with almost ‘grabby hands’. He laughs at your enthusiasm and leans in to place the headset over your ears. Your smile fades with him that close. It’s a move, it has to be. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. His face is about a foot or so away from yours and you want to touch his cheeks and feel if they are soft and smooth like they appear. He meets your eyes once the headphones are in place and there’s a softness in his curled lips. 

You absolutely want to kiss a stranger. 

He sits back and opens his phone to press play. “Too quiet?”

The instrumentation is soft, so you nod and he presses the side of his phone a few times before you nod again. 

You aren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. It’s not hip hop, with its intense beats and rhythm. There is synth and piano at a much softer, flowy-ier tempo. 

“Oh it’s pretty,” you say quietly. He smiles but then looks down at the phone as you listen. You wonder if he can sense where you are in the song with just watching the time counter move along. 

You wonder who does the higher notes, whose voice is harsh and rough, who sounds more like he could be in a choir. 

The song ends abruptly and you startle at it, glancing at Changbin. 

“We don’t have the ending quite right yet.”

“I think it should fade out,’ you say, again without thinking. “I mean, I know nothing about how to put a song together–”

“But you like music, so noted.” His smile is warm. “You liked it?”

“Very much. It’s…what I could understand cause I assume Korean?”

“You assume correct.” 

“It’s about dreams changing? Like how you wanted one thing and you realize that what you wanted has changed into something perhaps less impressive, but still matters to you?” Your eyes widen as you remove the headphones. “Or I could be projecting.”

He chuckles and reaches out for the headphones, his hand touching yours and you try to not shiver at the errant contact (can you still blame the wine?).

“No, that’s there. Maybe not as thought out as what you just said.” He fiddles with the headphones. “You’re really smart.”

“No. I just overthink.”

He makes a face at you, disapproving. “You’re smart. Take the compliment. The lauding.” 

You look away, feeling flushed. “Thank you.” Then you look back. “It’s really beautiful, Changbin. Like I was going to search for your music anyway, and listen and then decide how to tell you what I thought without being like super judgy or whatever, but wow.”

“Thanks.” He nods to your computer. “I showed you mine, you show me yours?”

The terminology (innuendo, wtf) makes you feel more than you should about trading work content with someone, but you nod and turn your laptop around, finding your YouTube channel and choosing a video from last year when you were in Barcelona, walking around to see every Anton Gaudi piece of architecture. He watches, occasionally glancing up at you.

“You don’t show yourself much.”

“Oh, yeah, well, it’s not about me. It’s about the experience. No one needs to see me to see the food, the sights.” 

“But they can hear you.” You do narrate quite a bit.

“Well, that’s done mostly after because then I can figure out what I want to say, clearly.”

“You have a nice voice.”

“Oh. Thank you.” You point to his phone. “Which voice are you?”

“Which do you think?” 

“That’s not fair. Our speaking voices don’t always match our performing ones.” You pout and he grins. 

“Guess.”

You sigh as though it’s a burden and he chuckles, eyes back on the video. 

“The low one. Like the raspier one.”

He smirks. “Good guess.”

“It’s nice. Like rough, but soothing too?” 

He stares at you as the video ends. 

“What?” Now you’re even more flustered. 

“Dunno. Kinda fascinated.”

You want to ask him. Does he feel it too? This weird something between you. But you actually think that might make the strange occurrence of him sleeping above you even more awkward. 

You turn your laptop back around and look at the screen like you can focus on anything but him. 

“I, uh, won’t be up much longer,” you begin, stuttering a bit as you can still feel his eyes on you. “So you can sleep soon.”

“We tend to late hours, the guys and me, so it’s more like I might keep you up.”

Your eyes dart to his, the tension back so strongly that you actually curl your fingers into the bedding as though it might keep you from reaching out to touch him. 

“Oh.” Smooth, very smooth.

He sits back, but doesn’t make any move to remove himself from your bed. “So…I feel like you should definitely see us at some point. Like come to Linlithgow when we’re there.”

“I should?”

He nods, resting on the opposing wall. HIs feet are still off, but the rest of him is on your bed. It’s intimate, a sleepover with a friend. 

A really attractive friend.

“Like after you do what you need to in the city…?” He glances at his hands then at you. “If you want.”

“I wouldn’t not want.”

He laughs.

“Sorry, that was terrible English,” you wave it away. “I wouldn’t want to disturb you guys though. You’re doing this to work.”

“Inspiration comes from all types of things. Including new people.” He looks like he might say more, but moves to get off the bed and you feel it acutely. “Besides,” he says as he starts back up into his bunk. “It shouldn’t all be work, right? All work, no play and all that?”

Why does he have to look so appealing saying the word ‘play’? You are so very tempted to say something about him staying in your bed, to play, to tease, to taste.

Too much. 

“Something like that.” If he hears the tremor in your voice, he doesn’t comment. 

You hear him settle in the bed above you and you try to focus on your work, though it’s not easy, hyper-aware of him as you are. 

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“This is dumb, but I’m really glad I got to meet you guys.”

There’s rustling and you look up to see him peer at you over the side of the bunk. He’s grinning. 

“It’s not dumb. And same.” Again he looks like he might say something else, but he just winks at you. “G’night.”

“Night. Sweet dreams.”

“Yeah, I hope so.” He laughs and rolls back over. You continue to do what you can; listening to the tinny sounds of whatever he’s vibing to on his phone, hearing each shift he makes in bed. You make decent progress and plan to record the audio sometime in your hotel room tomorrow night. You close down all your electronics, before getting up and moving to turn off the lamp light on the small table by the door. You carefully make your way back to your bunk.

“Again, night, neighbor.” His voice is impossibly lower and it makes you jump even if you assumed he wasn’t asleep yet. 

“Good night, Changbin.”

You curl up under the duvet and look outside at the pitch-black dark night before pulling the cord for the blinds and closing your eyes. 

–

When you wake up, the sun is just peeking over the horizon, the light diffused through the blinds right next to where you sleep. Despite being a little concerned that you might not sleep since you have a cabin mate, you actually wake feeling decently well-rested. Not that you are happy that the sun is making itself known in your face, but it isn’t the worst wake-up call. 

You stretch before reaching for your phone. You hear a deep inhale and it makes you freeze in your movements.

Right. A near-stranger slept in your cabin.

You stare up at the underside of the top bunk, mentally reviewing everything that happened yesterday. 

You are no closer to understanding why you feel so drawn to the man in your cabin than you were yesterday. 

With a sigh, you push yourself out of bed, stretching again once you’re on your feet. You move to the other side of the window, moving the blinds just enough so you can see out. 

It’s hard not to smile at the landscape that rushes by. The rolling hills, the sparse trees, the rock walls and hedges that provide simple borders. 

You hear the shifting in the top bunk and quickly drop the blinds.

He says your name, voice low and rough from sleep.

It takes you a second to respond, to make your voice not sound at all affected by just how much hearing him say your name in that tone warms you to near scorching. 

“Morning.”

You see him peer over at you, face flushed from sleep and eyes all squinty. 

It’s as devastating as when he’d been dressed up last night. 

“Time’isit?” he slurs, voice low and rumbly. 

“Not quite seven.”

He groans and rolls to his back. “Why up?”

You chuckle at the sleepy caveman speak. “Just woke up. Go back to sleep. I’ll be quiet.”

He snorts, rolling back over and propping himself up on one elbow, cheek to hand. “It’s your room. I can go back next door.” He blinks a few times as though you might be finally coming into focus. He smiles, as sleepy and cute as can be. “Though Ji and Chan might be violent if I wake them up.”

“Wouldn’t want you harmed,” you reply, and waves dismissively. “Go on, go back to sleep.”

He nods slow before letting his arm drop with the rest of him. You wait to see if he’s going to say more, but you hear the even breathing after a few seconds and it makes you smile. 

Seems like he’s good at that.

You gather your things for the day to take to the bathroom compartment down the hall (having showered the night before, but you aren’t about to change in the same room even if he is asleep). When you get back, you do some simple skincare and makeup before starting to pack everything up for disembarking in a few hours. 

There’s a loud thump sound from the other side of the wall, then muttered words (not English, you assume Korean) before another voice joins in and it’s not horribly loud, but it is noticeable. 

The other two must be awake.

“Changbin?” you say softly, not wanting to shock him awake. You move over to the bunks, again saying his name. Then you lightly touch his shoulder.

He hums before blinking his eyes open. He grins at you. 

“Missed me?”

“Of course.”

His eyes widen because you don’t argue and that makes you laugh. You point toward the wall. 

“Your friends are up.”

He turns, hair sticking out in all directions as he listens to the muted voices of his bandmates. He nods before sitting up. He searches the bedclothes before finding his phone. He points down toward the small nightstand. You grab his glasses as he opens his mouth.

“Can you–” He stops when you hand them to him. “Oh.”

You chuckle again and walk back to your suitcase, zipping it up and starting to fill your backpack with your journal and laptop and other vlogger accessories. 

“Hey.”

You look over to see him climbing down. He runs a hand through his hair, before shrugging.

“Thanks.”

“Oh. You’re welcome.” You feel your face heat with embarrassment. “Truly not a problem. Thanks for not being an ax murderer.”

He laughs before grabbing his bag from the carpet and moving toward the door. He pauses as he opens it then offers you his phone. 

“I…I can text you when we head to breakfast? If you want?” He is blushing slightly and you feel an immense amount of gratitude that he initiates the exchanging of contact information. You had been mulling over and over about the best way to make sure you could keep in contact with your next door neighbors (especially Changbin) and how not to make it obvious that you are interested (unless you should make it obvious…cause you are…right?…this weird connection is just…attraction…of some strange degree?) or awkward.

You nod to ease his discomfort and take his phone, fingers brushing and that definitely elicits some frissons. You input your number and hand it back. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” he says before giving you a large grin and heading out into the hallway. You look around the door to see and make sure he gets into his room. The door opens after he knocks and there’s a loud ‘Hyung!’ before he’s pulled in. 

You let out a breath.

Breakfast (preceded by a short ‘hungry?’ text from an unknown number - now not unknown) is much more relaxed than dinner was, the guys chatting about the cabin and decent sleep though Chan does complain about Jisung’s snoring to which Changbin who sits next to you again, says that you don’t snore with a familiar grin, discussing if they should store their bags and immediately go to Ediburgh castle, or check in at their hotel first then go.

As Jisung rants about how heavy their equipment is after prolonged carrying, Changbin leans over to you.

“Kinda silly, but promise me something?”

Is this it? Is he going to say something about the weird link that you feel…that he feels it too?

“Maybe.”

He scrunches up his nose at your cryptic response. 

“Don’t have haggis without me? I need moral support.”

It’s so not where your brain went that you have no idea what expression is on your face, but you laugh at the surprise of the request because only you are spiraling about this whole thing. He seems blissfully unaware.

Lucky him.

“I can keep that promise.”

He smiles back, squeezing your arm which repeats the tingles from earlier but more of them and you watch him, to see if anything in his face or reaction gives anything away.

Are you just the one losing your mind?

Perhaps it’s good that you’ll be on your own for a few days in the city before deciding whether or not to go meet up with them in Linlithgow (you refuse to admit that it’s 100% likely that you will). Maybe time away from him will fix your brain. Or whatever has you in such confusion. 

You all return to your respective cabins as arrival time is ahem, arriving soon. 

Changbin pauses by your door as the other two continue to their cabin. You stop half-way into the room. 

“Yes??”

He presses his lips together. “Nothing. Just seeing that you get in safely.”

“Going for the knight-in-shining-armor role?”

He doesn’t answer your teasing immediately, expression more contemplative. 

“Maybe.” There's a quick smile at the end of that, like he knows he’s being as cryptic as you were earlier. He takes a step closer, probably the closest that he’s been face-to-face with you. “That okay?”

Your breath hitches at his nearness and he has to hear it. His smirk is subtle, not as confident, but far more enticing. His eyes drop from yours to your mouth and back up so quickly that you almost believe you made it up.

But when he steps back, you’re sure you didn’t. Which means the butterflies in your stomach are not alone. 

Maybe he has a few too.

“Yeah. That’s okay.”  

He nods before walking to his cabin, looking back once then entering. You do the same. 

The train reaches Edinburgh Waverley station within the next twenty minutes and soon you are back on solid ground, less than 24 hours later, but, as you stand with the guys as they check their phone GPS, it is a very different you than previous. 

Even if it’s only you and not him. 

“So…” Jisung begins once they have decided they know where they’re going. “We’ll see you?”

You smile. “Most likely.” You glance at Changbin who raises his eyebrows. “Probably yes. I’ll let you know.”

“Have fun, then. Be safe, yeah?” Chan says and comes over to hug you like that level of familiarity has been established between all of you. You don’t mind. Not a bit, and you’re grateful that he is so unawkward about it. He’s warm and smells good, like sun-warmed grass. He releases you before hefting the guitar over his shoulder and heading toward the street level. Jisung, notably more reserved, waves at you before following Chan. 

You look at Changbin who hasn’t looked away. Feeling bold because ‘what the hell’, you open your arms in a blatant hug invitation, and he laughs before sliding off his shoulder bag and coming up to wrap his arms around you.

Oh god in heaven, wow. 

Chan was warm, but Changbin is searing. The weather this far north is chilly and though you’ve dressed for such a change, Changbin is far better as a heater than your hoodie. You hope you’re not being creepy when your eyes close and you breathe in; spicy and floral. You feel him turn his head a bit, his arms tighten, but then he lets go almost abruptly. You feel a whine at the back of your throat but you swallow it down. 

He tucks his hands into his pockets.

“Text once and awhile. Okay?” His smile is sheepish. “So this knight doesn’t worry.”

“Will do, Mr. Knight.” 

He jogs off, bag back on his shoulder, after his friends and they soon disappear among the crowd of morning commuters. 

You have many things to do but you don’t immediately start because if only for a moment, you feel bereft.

–

You spend four days in Edinburgh. You go to the castle though you’ve been before because it really is one of the loveliest sights in the country. You take your camera to The Writers Museum, showcasing it because it’s super interesting and also free admission. Not free really because you buy a ridiculous amount of souvenirs from the gift shop. You tell yourself and your followers that you’ll use them as gifts, even offering a few as a giveaway. 

You (on encouragement from a few comments) decided to do one of the haunted walking tours (there are several to choose from), checking with those in charge that your recording will not be a problem. They seem delighted for the free publicity and some spooky tales or shots will be a lot of fun.

You temporarily forget that you don’t like scary things.

It’s halfway through the tour and you are doing your best to record, listen and not gasp in terror or cover your ears like a child who doesn’t like what they are being told. You know your heart is pumping so fast because you feel it and why did you do this to yourself?

There’s a split second of you wishing Changbin was with you and hugging you again because that is your most recent memory of feeling safe. Hugs are naturally just a wonderful thing, but his had gone beyond that.

In your time alone in the city, you’ve given some thought to the strange draw you have to a stranger (though less of a stranger now). You definitely have found random people you run across in your travels as attractive. You aren’t blind. Beauty in people is just as soul-reviving as beauty in landscape and architecture. 

You’ve dated, but not lately. Your job can keep you away for periods at a time and though you’ve never been seriously tempted to be unfaithful, your partners have been more paranoid. That lack of trust bothered you more than any idiosyncrasies in dealing with combining two lives together. 

You have never seen someone in passing and felt like if you didn’t meet, didn’t talk, didn’t have a moment to interact; that you would spend your days living in regret. The desire to know someone has never possessed you at any point that you can remember. And now that you do know him a little? It just makes you want to know more. In a mental list, you have questions you want to ask him. 

He’s texted you. Photos of their time in Edinburgh; the castle and classic tattoo performance, all the food and drink, the statues that he and his friends sometimes pose like or with. You’ve texted back comments and suggestions. You’ve sent photos you wouldn’t use on your platforms; silly ones that would make the blooper reel if you had one for your life, ones that are just moments in your wanderings that you think he might like. You exchange song recommendations. You didn’t know he’d also like ballads, and softer songs. 

You’ve looked them up on youtube (they never mentioned their group name, but a search of ‘chan, jisung, changbin’ only brings up one group) and listened to their songs. It’s not your typical listening, but you like it. You buy an album digitally and when you just walk through the streets, you pop in your earbuds and listen to them. You look up lyrics when you have a moment, Korean being the dominant language in all their songs. You mull over the themes of their work, it makes you add new mental questions to that list. 

You get a photo of their little Airbnb when they are in Linlithgow. There’s pictures of the sun reflecting on the loch, the castle in the distance. Chan in front his laptop with music making paraphernalia. Jisung with his forehead furrowed, scribbling something on paper. 

Changbin making a duck face selfie.

>>Haggis soon?

The text comes in when you are in your inn room, editing more recent footage. Your time is coming to an end in the city and you’ve not said anything because you aren't sure they, or he, will still want you to come visit. Your original plan was to stay only a few days, maybe a day trip somewhere near, and then get back on the train to London. 

Plans change.

<<if you still want to? you’re supposed to be writing great masterpieces.

>> (pout emoji) 

<<not going well?

>>it’s okay. it’s really peaceful here and i get distracted by just sitting on a bench, watching people. 

<<i know for a fact that’s good for inspiration.

>>you’re avoiding answering my question. Are you coming to see us?

<<I booked a room for tomorrow night. Celebratory haggis for dinner?

>>YES

You’ve adjusted your train ticket back to London, giving yourself more time, but you can’t help but wonder what will happen when you go back home and he goes back to Korea. 

–

When you first ran into the trio, you weren’t nervous because you didn’t know. This time around, your heart is prematurely thumping like you’ve run all the way from Edinburgh. You’ve checked into your room at the pub/inn you’re staying at, then back on the street to view the centuries old architecture. It’s definitely a wet day, the clouds are ominous, so you’ve thrown your umbrella into your backpack and layered under your hoodie. 

You have plans for dinner with them; a local restaurant that the owner of their Airbnb recommended. There’s no reason for you to see them before that. But despite that knowledge, you keep your eyes peeled (what a weird phrase, honestly) for any familiar sightings. 

You walk along the street, trying to remember to look down because the streets are not even in these old villages and you wouldn’t say you’re clumsy, but you wouldn’t say you’re grace personified either. The buildings are magnificent though. The style sends you back to books you’ve read about tiny villages and murder mysteries that never scare you, just make you want to live in a cozy place and live a cozy life. 

You pause in front of the third pub you’ve passed by, wondering if going in for a drink would settle the buzz of nerves currently rippling through you. 

You hear your name.

You turn to see Changbin jogging up to you with a grin on his face, and he’s pulled you into a hug before you can piece together that he’s on his own, without his friends. 

“You didn’t say you were here yet,” he says, voice muffled by your hair before he draws back, still grinning. 

It’s stronger, the tether that you’ve felt since first laying eyes on him. You want to kiss him. 

Like really really want to kiss him. 

The urge startles you and you take a second to smile back, to cover that insane desire. You barely know him. What you know, you like, but you need to chill. 

“Hi.” 

Good job. Real eloquent and normal.

He laughs and squeezes your arm before letting go. He’s wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a backwards snapback. 

It’s so casual and normal, and you feel a bit light-headed.

You almost move to hug him again. 

“Where’s the rest of 3racha?”

He shrugs. “Ji is currently down the rabbit hole of youtube, and Chan is frustratedly working on a track and does not want any outside input at the moment. I decided to go for a workout.” He smiles again, tugging on the straps of his gym bag that’s hanging on his shoulder.. “And I found you.”

His smile drops when you don’t say anything. 

“I mean, unless you’re working right now? I’m sorry. You probably are and–”

“No, I’m sorry, I just…” You trail off, trying to figure out how the simple ‘I found you’ with that amount of sincerity destroys you, in all the best ways, and you can’t share that with him. “I’m kinda always working, so please, distract me.”

That pretty rose color lightens his cheeks and you wonder if maybe your words carried more underneath them than just a casual ‘let’s hang’ vibe.

“Wanna go work out?” he asks, teasing. You look down at your all-terrain boots and jeans then back at him. “No?”

“I guess these aren’t god-given?” You poke his arm, trying not to laugh when he flexes. You think it’s probably instinctual. 

He eyes you suspiciously but there’s still that hint of smile on his lips. “Nope. Requires maintenance.”

“My maintenance is just the walking I do for work.”

He nods. “Wanna walk then?” He zips up his windbreaker, seeming okay with the change in plans. 

“You don’t…don’t you want to go build muscle or something?”

He shakes his head. “Not right now.” He nods in the direction you were heading. “Come on. I’ll show you a nice spot.” He takes your hand and starts walking. You don’t resist.

Why would you?

His hand is warm, a little rough with calluses (probably from those beloved barbells). He’s speaking but for a few seconds you don’t comprehend because it’s been ages since you’ve had your hand held; nothing beyond a handshake or someone maybe helping you in and out of a mode of transportation. 

And it’s just so nice. 

“We haven’t tried there yet.” His words finally come into being understandable, even though you are still fixated on your hand in his. “But I want to. I think pubs might be one of my favorite things about the U.K.”

“No pubs in Korea?”

He takes you down a narrow street, cobblestoned and a little smelly. The wind picks up because of the condensed space and you shiver. 

“You’ve never been?”

“To Korea? No. Not yet.” It’s on your list. As is most of east Asia. Perhaps now, knowing them, you might put your focus on affording that type of trip. 

“Pubs aren’t really a thing. Not like here. There’s bars, restaurants that you drink in, but it doesn’t quite have the same laid-back feel.” He pauses at the curb, waiting for a cab to pass. Then he continues on, still holding your hand and you think it’d be really easy for him to lead you anywhere. 

“Same. I mean, for the States. We have bars, clubs. I feel like coffee houses are close to the same vibe, but generally no alcohol.”

He’s led you to a small park, complete with wrought iron benches and trees that if it was spring or summer, would be full of green. Full of leaves and would block the view of the still lake beyond the bank.

“Oh.”

“Right? It’s really pretty.” He tugs you toward one of the benches that faces the lake, where the reflection of the local castle is near perfect, minus a few rolls that warp the shape of the towers when wind touches the water. He sits and you sit, staring at the picturesque beauty. 

He lets go of your hand and you have to hold yourself back from taking it again.

You pull out your GoPro, opening it before getting up to find a few angles. 

“I watched some of your videos. When are you putting up the Edinburgh ones?”

You frame the castle reflection before capturing it digitally. “Probably in a day or two. It takes awhile to edit and do the voiceover. Also…” You glance back at him. “I don’t like to post when I’m in the same place. In case there are any–”

“Ax murderers?”

You smile. “Yeah.”

“That’s smart.” He leans back on the bench, letting his small gym bag fall to the ground. 

Manspreading is something you normally despise, especially on public transportation, but as with everything else, Changbin is the exception. 

An image of you climbing onto his lap flashes through your mind, and you spin around to look back at the castle, mortified at your own thoughts. It seems invasive to think of him like that. 

“Which videos did you watch?”

“Some of your first ones.”

You turn back to him in horror. “You didn’t.”

He grins, as though pleased that he’s made you embarrassed. “There’s a lot more of you in those. How old are you then?”

“Gah, right out of university.” You shake your head as you walk back to sit on the bench with him. “I knew nothing.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“The editing is mediocre, the shots and angles are pedestrian, my voice is–”

He’s laughing. 

“I can’t believe you went back that far.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t listen to our first songs?”

“To be fair,” you begin, caught but ready to defend. “You have less songs than I have videos, because your songs take more work…” He’s still grinning and you shrug. “‘Wow’ is especially enjoyable.”

Now it’s his turn to look away and grimace in pain. “Yeah. If fans didn’t love it, ironically probably, I’d make that disappear.”

“Shows how far you’ve come.”

He looks back at you, eyes warming. “Same for you.”

The warmth is unnerving and you look back at the perfect view of water and architecture. “You come out here a lot?”

“I’ve been twice? Since we’ve been here. I don’t usually just sit and stare out into nothing. That’s more Ji’s thing. He’s the introvert.”

“And Chan?”

He sits up and rests his forearms on his thighs, watching a lady push a stroller while talking on the phone. “He’s a workaholic. Even more than Ji and I. Sometimes I have to wrestle him into bed so he can get some sleep.”

“Can you take him in a fight?”

He smirks. “He’s taller, but I’m stronger.”

You mimic his position, watching the branches seesaw with the wind. “Who wrestles you into bed?” The moment you say it, you recognize what else it could mean. That perhaps just being around him layers your words with implications that hint and tease and lure. 

You feel his gaze, but you stubbornly look at the trees, even though you’re sure he can see the heat on your cheeks.

“No one. Lately.”

You swallow and let your eyes drift to him. He seems undaunted by your words or even his response. You think you could ask him, right now, if he’s having the same feelings as you; a practical stranger. You think he would tell you the truth. 

But you hear the sound of a vibrating phone and he jolts at it, letting out a huff before pulling it out of his pocket to answer.

“Yeah?” The conversation moves into Korean and you do hear your name, but the rest of it is lost to you. You sit up, messing with the settings on your GoPro, taking a few shots, trying to capture the quiet in a photo.

“That was Chan.” Changbin tells you. “It’s early, but Ji is starving.” He rests his arm on the back of the bench, his fingers centimeters from your arm. “Hungry?”

“I can always eat.”

He smiles at that, standing up to grab his bag and fit it on his shoulder before offering his hand. “Same, really.”

If you post those castle photos, you aren’t sure what you'll caption them, as your biggest impression of that hour was holding Changbin’s hand. 

–

“You didn’t!?” You cover your mouth as you laugh, hilarity infecting Jisung and Chan as well. Changbin looks pained as he stares at his plate. “You looked it up. You shouldn’t have.”

“I always check what I’m about to put in my body,” he answers, lips in near pout. “I knew it was going to be unusual, but…”

Haggis sits on his plate, awaiting a first bite, and you think, it looks a bit sad that it hasn’t been partaken yet. 

It might be the beer you’ve all had, but the giggling doesn’t cease. You lean over and cut it open, taking a forkful without even asking him. Later, you’ll blame intoxication. 

“See?” You take a bite, chewing and grinning at him. Then you pause. “Okay, that’s excellent.” 

He doesn’t look very convinced. “I…”

You grab his fork, do the same and offer it to him. “No regrets. If you hate it, at least it is an informed opinion.”

His lips part at the beckoning expression you give him. The other two are still laughing, teasing him, but the way he looks at you seems to drown them out. Like it all fades and you swear you can hear how his breathing changes, as though his heart speeds up.

“Come on, you’ll never know unless you try.” 

He lets you feed him, something you’ve never done outside a few gigs babysitting as a teenager. And it wasn’t like this.

It takes far too long for you to drag your eyes from his lips, to look up to his eyes, to see if he liked the Scottish delicacy.

His thoughtful face is cute. 

You set the fork down, drawing back, as though you’ve finally realized just how forward, how flirty you’ve been. You know there’s nothing wrong with it, if he’s not bothered, but you feel bashful nonetheless. 

You aren’t usually this person. Not since you were in school, when opportunities to meet and date seemed endless. 

“So?” Jisung pipes up. “Verdict?”

Changbin swallows, turning from you to his friends. “It’s actually…pretty good.”

Jisung takes that as permission, grabbing his own bite, as does Chan. You coerce yourself into watching them, not him, as they make similar confused and pensive expressions. As you do, you muse that you aren’t sure how three friends could all be so handsome, each in their own way.

Why only one of them seems to be bewitching you.

He’s sitting next to you again, but it’s in a booth not separate chairs, and though you aren’t touching, you can feel the heat of him in the few inches between you. 

“Maybe not something I’d eat all the time,” Chan says. “But certainly not gross.”

Jisung nods. “Especially if I don’t think about what it is.” He even takes another bite. 

Changbin fiddles with his fork before taking a swallow of his pint. 

“I like it.”

You smile. 

The guys mostly talk music for the rest of the meal. Chan even apologizes to you, but you wave it off. You’re fascinated by artists of any kind, how they create. You sip your cider, listening to them, even when they forget you and speak in Korean. It’s a nice, hazy feeling. The coziness of the pub, the talking around you, voices with different accents, the music filling in any lull in conversation. 

Perhaps the cider is stronger than you thought.

“You falling asleep?” 

You tilt your head toward him. He’s removed the snapback, run his hand through his hair a few times and you want to do the same. 

“No.”

“You sure?” 

You are slumped against the back of the booth, warm and comfortable. In a distant part of your brain, you chastise that you haven’t taken more photos or video of the meal, but it’s nice. Nice to be here. 

“I think she’s fading.” You hear Chan. You shake your head. “How early did you get up today?”

“Not early…I just haven’t slept super well since the haunted walking tour thingy.” It isn’t until Changbin touches your bottom lip that you realize you’re pouting.

And that he’s touched you. 

“Was that fun?” Jisung asks, animated. 

“No. Not by myself.” You watch Changbin who has gone back to his food and beer. “Probably would be fun with someone.” 

He glances at you and holds your gaze for a few seconds before saying something to Jisung about his horror film obsession. 

You don’t fall asleep, but you are definitely close when you fight them for the bill. You win this time. 

The walk outside into the night is a good wake up, the air far chillier than when the four of you entered the establishment. You wrap your arms around yourself, not too cold, but not warm either. 

“Nightcap?” Chan asks. “I don’t think I can go back to working just yet.”

“I want to,” you say. “But I think I need to go to bed.”

“Rain check,” he says, smiling fondly. “Come on, Ji.” He wraps his arm around his younger friend. “First one’s on you.”

“Why me?” He complains as the two of them cross the street to a pub that sounds and looks lively. They both wave at you before disappearing through the doors. 

“I’ll walk you back.”

“You can go on,” you protest, shivering a little. “I know how to get back.”

He pulls up the hood over your hair, tightening the strings. “I’m walking you back.” He states again, taking your hand. 

You aren’t about to refuse.

“Don’t you want to go with them?”

He gives you a look that you can’t really decipher. When he lets go of your hand, you open your mouth to argue, but he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you close. It’s a second later that you feel a group of people walk by, nonverbally explaining why he does so.

You look up at him, your hand on his chest.

“They were–I mean–” He is blushing, before releasing you. “I didn’t want you to get bumped into.”

“Thanks.”

He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep going. You loop your arm with his. He almost stumbles but doesn’t say anything.

Neither do you.

It’s a few minutes more until you’re in front of your lodging.

“Well…” you begin, but he enters. “Changbin I can…”

“I know you can, but I want to.” There’s a stubborn set to his jaw and mouth and you resist cooing over it because for someone who could probably lift you with ease, he’s adorable. 

You wave at the innkeeper, trying not to look shameful that you are bringing someone up the stairs with you. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but it does feel cheap, as though this person you’ve met days ago is just a fling. Not someone making sure that you are safe in your room, not someone that you find yourself thinking about hourly. 

Not someone important.

You stop in front of your room, pulling out the skeleton key and unlocking it before turning to your bodyguard. 

“Thank you for seeing me to my room, Mr. Knight.”

He smiles at the reference. “You’re welcome.” He moves to slip the hood off your head, smoothing your hair. “I hope you sleep better.”

“Me too.”

He swallows and you watch the movement of his throat with avid interest. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna work out tomorrow morning, but do you want to do anything? Together? I could help you record or whatever, if you wanted.” He’s got his hands in his pockets again, his windbreaker zipped all the way up, eyes wide and inquiring. 

“Fuck, you are so cute,” you breathe. His eyes get even wider. “Like, sorry, that’s…you are. Really attractive.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He’s so taken aback by your words that you giggle. That smirk returns, painting him far more confident than he just was. He moves a few steps closer. “Is that a yes?”

He is so close.

“Yes?”

He grins even more. “To tomorrow? Hanging out.” He takes one of the strings of your hoodie, tugs it lightly and wraps it around his finger. 

“Sure. I’ll put you to work carrying my stuff.”

He tilts his head down, his eyes dropping to your lips. “I can do that.” His nose touches yours. “And same by the way.”

“Hmm?” You can’t look away from his mouth.

“You’re also really cute. Attractive.” He pauses to let that sink in. “Pretty.” He moves so carefully and your eyes fall shut, sure to feel his lips on yours, but you don’t.

He kisses you on the cheek. Your eyes flutter open and he’s watching you, searching. He starts to pull back, but you grasp the collar of his windbreaker, halting his retreat. 

Your name falls from his lips, and you figure what the hell.

You kiss him. 

It’s a bit forceful, perhaps your coordination is off from the drinking, but his little grunt when your lips meet makes you soften immediately. Your grip relaxes, your hands seeking out the curls at the nape of his neck. You feel him tremble, then you feel his hands on your hips.

Your head falls back against the door as he licks into your mouth, apparently no longer caught off guard by your forwardness. He tastes a little bitter from the beer he imbibed, but the heat, his tongue curling with yours makes your fingers tighten as though holding onto his shoulders might keep you from collapsing. 

One hand captures you by the jaw, a gentle maneuvering so he can kiss you deeper. You hear his hat fall to the floor when your greedy fingers card through his hair, soft and silky. He takes a step in, and his hips align with yours.

It’s like fireworks explode under your skin. 

In case you questioned whether or not he was interested, you aren’t questioning now. He’s hard, pressed against you in a way that makes you hungrier than you’ve ever been. 

You absolutely crave him. 

His mouth leaves yours, and you whimper at the loss. There’s a dark chuckle, arrogant, before he graces your neck with soft pecks, ending with a nip and a suck, right near your collarbone, your hoodie pushed aside to let him taste. 

You stutter his name. 

There’s a pause in his ministrations, his thumb running along your lower lip. He raises his head as your eyes open. You can see a reflection of your desire in his eyes, in the focus of his gaze. 

His thumb pulls on your lip, as though seeking the wet heat of your mouth. Your tongue flicks the tip and his eyes go even darker. You think maybe he growls before slotting his mouth back over yours, tongue stroking and enticing. 

There’s a creak of footsteps coming up the stairs and you break apart, chests heaving with breathlessness. His face is flushed, hair and eyes a little wild, and you wonder if this is how he looks post workout, post other exertions.

A runaway thought about licking the sweat off his neck ping-pongs in your brain, but you won’t ever verbalize it. 

You both wait until the guest passes down the hall to their room before either of you speak. He leans down to grab his hat.

“Do we blame the beer?” you ask softly.

“You had cider.”

It’s almost petulant, his words, and it surprises a laugh out of you. His answering smile is soft, and he cups your cheek in his hand. 

“You should go sleep.” His index finger taps lightly on your ear, playful.

You want to protest, to invite him in, but this evening has already sped past any rules you’ve ever had in place for dating and sex. 

A moment to process, to think. 

“Yeah.”

He kisses you again, but it’s chaste and sweet. A good night kiss as though you two are familiar with each other. 

“Message me when you wake up?” His voice is barely a whisper. His nose slides along yours before he drops another kiss and backs up. “Sweet dreams.”

“Yeah.” You are incapable of anything more eloquent than that at the moment. He grins, squeezing your hand before heading toward the stairs. You open the door, still with your back against it, resistant to look away. 

“Night.”

“Good night,” you answer before finally shutting the door behind you. You allow yourself the cliche romantic moment of leaning and sliding down to the floor, completely enamored.

–

You wake and check your phone out of habit. 

Wanna do breakfast? 

It was nearly an hour ago that it was sent, but you hope it’s still an option. The overabundance of cider ensured you slept hard last night, which given how much the man at the other end of this text filled your brain, you are grateful. Because it’s a new day. Sun’s coming up and things that are easy and make sense late into the night, under the influence of alcohol, sometimes feel rather foolish in the light of day.

You want to see him. After last night, after kissing, touching…just feeling; you feel like the one time you’d had a crush in middle school.

The beginnings of crushing. That quickly turned painful and awkward (the epitome of middle school life), and even thinking of it dampens your present joy.

You shove it away, intent on appreciating that the strange inclination that appeared at just seeing Changbin seems to be somewhat reciprocated.

Yes. This pub has breakfast. Wanna meet me?

Give me 15. Have to shower and I’ll be there.

You did not need that mental image.

You may spend a minute more on your face this morning, but then your brain is taken over by thoughts of what to see and what to do for your channel. You keep a decently consistent upload schedule (the only way to keep viewers sticking around), and you posted the last one of your last excursion.

It’s time.

The worry from two seconds ago reappears. 

You find a table downstairs in the pub and order a tea (when in the UK). You check your instagram and TikTok platforms. You’d posted just the castle reflection (no location mentioned) yesterday and just looking at it again warms you.

“Hey.”

You look up from your phone to see Changbin sliding in the chair across from you. His hair is damp and curly, reminding you of that mental image you do not need to have. He wears not all black today, but a pale pink hoodie and dark jeans. He smiles once you make eye contact.

“Morning.”

You reply the same, your own gaze falling to his lips, which flusters you immensely, so you sit up, put your phone away.

“I didn’t know if you were coffee or a tea person.”

“Oh. Coffee. But,” he looks at your cup. “That actually looks good.”

You offer it to him. “Try. You should at least try good breakfast tea while you’re here.” 

He takes it from you, sipping it before staring off as he contemplates. 

“You can have it just plain. I always add milk and sugar. It’s good without too.”

He smiles. “Oh I can?”

You fluster yet again. 

“It’s cute. You’re like a tea missionary all of a sudden.”

He sets the tea back on your side as a server pops up for your order. Changbin orders a full Scottish breakfast (and tea), and you get porridge. 

“Good workout?”

He nods. “I haven’t really been diligent about it.”

“You’re traveling, of course you haven’t.” You rest your chin in your hand. “You enjoy it?”

“Yeah. I mean…” He blushes. “I could go on and on about everything to do with training, eating, all that. I don’t want to bore you.”

“As a person who knows very little, except to get some exercise to be healthy, I won’t be bored.”

He looks doubtful. “No?”

“Try me. I like learning stuff.”

He does know a lot. As much as you don’t think you will ever desire to be a gym rat in any circumstances, you find his enthusiasm wonderful. It’s perhaps one of your favorite things about traveling. A lot of it is solitary, but you do meet people, have conversations that only two strangers on a plane, train, or in a restaurant could have. People have passions, and they light up when they get to talk about them, or share them. 

You once had a two hour conversation with someone about red milkwood fruit and the best areas in South Africa to get it. 

It was really good. 

Food is delivered and Changbin’s commentary about leg day tapers off. You hide a smile as his focus becomes solely his meal. 

“I’d like to look at the castle today. I’m sure you’ve already gone?”

He chews slowly, but shakes his head.

“You haven’t?”

“All three of us had stuff to work on. Or wanted to work, so sight-seeing hasn’t happened yet. So, yeah, let’s go.”

“You don’t mind? I mean, I don’t want you to not work if–”

He interrupts you, saying your name. “You think I don’t want to spend time with you? After…” He’s the cutest thing when he blushes. 

You don’t suppose you look as cute when your face heats too. 

“So,” you save him from continuing, even though your voice definitely cracks, “The castle, and maybe a boat ride at the Canal Centre, the museum there too?” You meet his eyes. “You don’t have to do all of that with me if you don’t want to.”

He leans in a little (there are still two meals between you two). “I want to.” 

You can’t really find anything to say to that, not with that resolute tone that makes you want to crawl over the table (pretty sure the beans on his plate would stain your pants for eternity but it would be worth it) and continue where you left off last night. 

It’s a craving that your very nice porridge will not satiate.

And it’s a lot for you in your not very long time on this planet. 

He seems to feel the same if the way he’s looking at you is any indication, but he drops his gaze to go back to his meal. 

You do the same. 

When you’re outside after eating, he tugs on your backpack. You turn and he pulls it off you, sliding it onto his shoulders. His smile is a little cheeky and bashful. 

“You did say I could carry your stuff.”

“I did.” Can’t really argue with him about that. You open your phone to find the best walking route to the castle and let that lead you both. His hand slips into yours. 

You’ve never gotten to travel as part of a couple. This phase of your life started because you had wanted to see more than your state, and no one in your life was able to join you (commitments to jobs, partners, now kids). Traveling alone means no one puts any sort of expectations of what you do, when you do it, and where. It’s freedom.

But it’s terribly nice to walk hand in hand with someone down a cobblestoned street as you record the simplicity and antiquity of your surroundings. 

“Say hi!” you turn the camera on him and he doesn’t even hesitate, but gives a peace sign and a huge grin. You laugh that he’s so at ease with it, but remind yourself that he performs fairly regularly. 

To see them live would be an experience. 

“Did you know this palace is the birthplace of Mary Queen of Scots?” you ask him, camera still focused on his profile.

“I did not. Nor do I have a clue who that is.”

You laugh again. “Why would you?” You turn the camera back toward the castle in the distance. You do a quick speech about the little you know of British royals and history. “I’ll add more later,” you turn the camera to your face. “Edit this out, but keep in Changbin.”

“Wait, why?”

“Cause you’re cute and look good on camera.”

The blush is redder with the brisk wind. 

“I see how it is. You just want me for my looks.”

“Absolutely.” You may blush when you say it, but his answering laugh is worth it.

The castle is as castles are: drafty, wet-smelling, but still hold some sort of mystique due to age and grandeur. There’s a tour you follow, listening and taking the occasional note on your phone. Changbin is fairly quiet, though he mutters the occasional comment to you which makes you laugh a little too loudly and interrupt the tour guide. 

You really do try not to be the loud and rude American when you travel. 

“When I was little, I wanted to live in a castle,” you say to Changbin when the tour is over and you are just filming to get footage and B roll. 

“You don’t anymore?”

“Oh god no. It’s too cold. Too big. Too much to clean.”

He laughs and adjusts your backpack on his shoulders. “That’s not very romantic.”

“I’m not very…” You trail off, glancing at him as he looks out across the pond. The wind is up, ruffling his hair, and you think you might be a little romantic because your heart does swell when you look at him. 

“Hmm?” He looks back, and smiles.

“Never mind. Wanna head to the Canal Centre?”

“Sure.”

As you both walk that way, you see a group of people (possible power-walkers, is that a thing in Scotland?) coming down the road toward you. He takes you by the elbow and pulls you into a tiny alcove under the footbridge. You stumble into him as his arm wraps around your back. You look up to see him watching the crowd pass by before seeing your gaze. Pink tinges his cheeks in a faint blush. 

“There was–” He gestures with his other hand toward the now absent crowd. “It wasn’t a move, I promise.”

“It’s okay if it had been.”

One corner of his lips shoots up in a smirk-smile. “Yeah?” His arm tightens around you, pulling you flush against him. 

As you lean in to brush a kiss to his lips, your brain is reminding you that everything is on a deadline, and you should mention this to him. But the kiss (and he) is distracting. His hand is splayed in the middle of your back and he’s so warm. The kiss, that starts fairly chaste, morphs into heat, tongue and at least one moan. 

The moan is you.

“Public indecency charges in a foreign country are probably really difficult to get out of,” you mumble, mouth barely touching his. 

He chuckles, hand stroking down your back. “We probably shouldn’t find out.” He rests his head on the stone wall behind him.

You open your mouth to say something about your train leaving tomorrow, but he takes your hand and pulls you from the alcove to head back into the muted sunshine. 

The Canal Centre has options for 12 or 40 people, and requires advanced booking, so you and Changbin just wander through the museum before finding a spot in the tearoom to watch the boats pass. 

“It feels slower here,” he says softly as you look through the footage you’ve taken. 

You lift up your head and raise your eyebrows in question. He shrugs and takes a sip of tea in the dainty teacup. You gesture for him to hold that position as you snap a quick photo of his large hand wrapped around that delicate porcelain. 

“Just. Stopping for tea. Staring out at people. It’s all very calm.”

“We are kinda on vacation. Working here would be different.”

“I’m sure. But even that…people are out for lunch, just heading to the pub and spending time eating and socializing. We do that in Korea, but usually after work, late, for supper and drinks.” He sets the cup back down. “Just different.”

“America never seems to stop. Just get into your car, drive, work, eat as fast as you can, drive home, crash. Maybe go out, but I couldn’t usually muster up the energy post-work.” 

“I’ve never been.” 

“No gigs in the US of A?”

“Not yet.” He meets your eyes before looking back at the boats. “I’m a bit bummed we didn’t get to ride in a boat.” He points at you, with excitement. “We could book for tomorrow if you wanted.”

It’s an anvil on your chest.

“What about your work?”

He gives you a look, like ‘are you kidding?’ “For a boat ride? With you? I think I can take a few hours.” He leans forward, resting his arms on the table, one hand seeking yours. “More content for you, ms. vlogger.”

You let him take your hand and then you take a deep breath. “My train leaves tomorrow.”

His thumb, rubbing over your knuckles, stills at your words. 

“It does?”

You grip his hand in case he thinks of letting go. “I have to get back. Money wise, content wise, just…life.” 

He stares at you, expression unreadable. 

“I’m sorry. I would stay if–”

“You need to get back.” He nods before letting go. “And I have songs to write.”

There are several other people in the tearoom and you want to say things, but it feels way too private for this public venue. 

“When do you guys head back to Korea?”

“End of next week.” He takes a deep breath, eyes back on the boats. His jaw tightens and he turns again back to you. “Come to Korea.”

“What?”

“In your travels, come.”

“I mean, I would like to. It’s on my list.”

“Move it up the list.”

You laugh, bewildered at his insistence. “I’ll try. It’s not like it’s easy to get to from America.”

He takes your hand again. “Come. Please.”

It’s a lot. To not look away from the intensity of his gaze, those brown eyes entreating. 

“You gonna come to the States?”

“Yes.”

No question, no hesitation. 

“Oh.”

He says your name, then looks around. “Can we go somewhere and talk about this?” He takes out some British pounds and leaves them on the table. “Please?”

You gather your things and follow him out. He takes your hand and leads you back to the park from yesterday. He pulls you next to him on the bench, sliding your backpack onto the ground.

But he doesn’t speak. He stares back out across the water, his hand in yours. 

“Bin?”

He turns with a smile. “First time you’ve called me that.” He moves closer, his smile faltering. “Maybe I’m completely off, but this is something.” He gestures to the space between the two of you on ‘this’. “Right? It’s not, it can’t be just a hookup. I…don’t want to not see you again.”

It’s hard to speak. To follow the rapidity of what he says. 

“Right?” He forces a smile. “You weren’t just gonna fuck me and leave?”

You hide your face, embarrassed at his words. “I hadn’t even…I mean, I thought about…oh god.”

He rests his hands on your shoulders, saying your name again. “Talk to me. I realize I am not being at all cool and detached about this. But, when I saw you on the train, I…it’s so cliched and just bad romance movie shit, but I felt something.”

Your head raises up so quickly, his hands tighten in surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah. Like, I mean, you’re cute as fuck, but it was more than that.” He watches your face. “You did too, didn’t you?”

“I thought my heart was going to beat itself into exploding.”

He grins. “I don’t think that makes sense.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my first time.”

“Mine too.” He presses his lips together before speaking. “It’s big, right? Like I don’t know everything about you, but…”

“It feels like it? Yeah.” You feel your face heat. “It’s both super familiar and safe, but also, all the butterflies and anticipation and–”

He kisses you. “That.”

“Yes.” You kiss him back, and he holds you so close that you’re almost in his lap. 

He moves his hands to your face. “We travel, the guys and me. Perform. Then we lock ourselves in the studio for the rest of the year. You can be there, for any of that. As much as you want.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “We’ve wanted to go to America for a couple years now, we have fans there…”

“I could travel with you guys?”

“Yeah. When you can.” He makes a face. “I mean, I’ll talk to them about it, but they know.”

“They know?”

He doesn’t let go of you, but his eyes do dart away, embarrassed. “They know that I’m into you. That something is going on.” He rolls his eyes. “Ji is especially annoying about it.”

You smile. “I bet.” You encircle his wrists with your hands. “So…long distance, huh?”

He swallows. “I’m game.”

“Me too.” It settles your heart and nerves to hear it. To hear that he feels and has been going through the same as you. That you aren’t alone in this. 

You aren’t alone, at all. 

His thumbs sweep along your cheekbones. “Okay.” His shoulders lower, relaxing. “Okay.”

You kiss him, letting go of his wrists and fully moving onto his lap, arms around his neck. He holds you close, mouth opening to taste you. It’s horribly public, but you don’t really care. 

How could you, in his arms?

When his hand slips under the back of your pants, he mumbles something against your skin.

“Hmm?”

“Thinking about those public indecency laws,” he says. 

You giggle as he looks up at you. “You say the sweetest things, Changbin.” 

He snorts but stares at you. 

You comb his hair off his forehead, staring back. “Pretty.”

He makes a face at you, but doesn’t look away. “I think we’re getting sappy.”

“Maybe a little.” 

You kiss his nose. “I like you.”

He smiles wide. “Yeah?”

“A lot.”

His wayward hand takes one grab of your ass, making you yelp and him laugh. 

“I like you too,” he murmurs, mouth tracing down the shell of your ear. “A lot a lot.”

—

Supper is with Jisung and Chan again, no haggis this time. The four of you opt for curry, and you are given a front row seat to Changbin’s ability to handle spice and how Chan and Jisung don’t handle it.

Though all three do way better than you as you ask the server for the least spicy curry on the menu. And even then, you make good use of the naan in the middle of the table. 

Changbin sits next to you, thigh flush to yours. His hand finds your leg often, resting on it, tapping a rhythm on your knee, fingers slipping to your inner thigh; hints of more, both casual and intentional. 

“You don’t mind?”

Chan glances at you from taking a swig of his pint. “Not at all. It’d be nice to have someone along. We have roadies, of course. But like…” He shrugs. “We put up with Ji, so you’ll be a breeze.”

Jisung glares at him. “I’m an angel.”

“I would check with you about anything I post, of course.”

Chan smiles warmly. “I trust you. Pretty obvious the moment you offered us a bed.”

It feels like years ago.

“I still can’t believe I did that.” You shake your head. “I’m lucky I’m not a True Crime podcast episode.” 

“Or Bin isn’t.” Jisung says. “All you’d have to do is get him working and like, you could sneak up on him so easily.” He chews then swallows. “Not that I’ve thought about it.”

“Feeling’s mutual, Ji,” Changbin volleys back, unbothered by his friend’s comment. His fingers lace with yours, resting on his leg. You try not to show how affected you are, but Jisung meets your eyes and winks at you.

Chan gives you a big hug after supper, outside the restaurant. “I’d say I’d get up and say goodbye, but I don’t want to lie.”

You hug him back, chuckling. “I appreciate the honesty.” 

He squeezes your arm. “Have a safe trip. We’ll see you soon.” 

“Yeah, you will.”

Jisung hugs you this time, long arms wrapped around you. He also wishes you a safe trip and elicits a promise from you that you’ll bring Flaming Cheetos with you when you come to Korea as he really wants to try them.

It’s an easy promise to make. 

There’s no excuse or question as to whether Changbin will walk you back to your room. He follows you in the main door, both of you not speaking. When you get to your room, he covers your hand as you try to unlock the door.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” he asks, voice no more than a whisper. “I’m afraid I won’t get up to say goodbye and–”

You turn around to kiss his cheek, silencing his stammering. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

You open the door. “We’ve already shared a cabin. Might as well share a bed, right?”

He enters, a bit timidly, glancing around. “You’ve already packed?”

“I barely unpacked.” You take your backpack from him, setting it on the floor of the wardrobe. You take off your shoes, setting them next to your backpack. You reach out for him, grabbing his hoodie to yank him to you. 

“I wasn’t…I wasn’t assuming that we’d…”

“You did ask if I planned to fuck you and leave.”

He coughs a laugh, hands settling on your hips. “I did, didn’t I? I was panicking a little.”

You kiss his chin. “I’m not assuming anything either. I just want to kiss you again.”

His eyes soften and he slides his hands under your thighs, the unspoken indicator to jump into his arms. You do so, legs around his waist as he covers your mouth with his. He moves you both to the bed, laying you down carefully, leaving your lips to taste and suck down your neck. He only breaks away when you pull on his hoodie in an effort to disrobe him. His laugh is light when he pulls it off, his t-shirt clinging to him in ways that should be illegal. He takes off your layers, peeling off the sweatshirt, t-shirt, then camisole. 

He stares.

You whine a protest. “What?”

He leans down, lips at your ear. His hands slide along your side, almost tickling. 

“I like your shape.” You tremble at the puff of his breath on your ear, shiver more when he nips at the lobe. He continues, pressing kisses along your jaw line until he’s back to your mouth, urgent. Your legs fall open as he lowers himself, a sharp intake of breath when you feel him. 

“I like yours, too,” you sigh into his mouth. 

There’s a rumble of laughter. “Which shape?” He lifts his head to grin at you. “My body or my dick?”

You slap his arm, flustered. 

He rests on his forearms, dropping soft pecks on your nose, cheeks, eyelids. “Just trying to clarify here.”

“Ridiculous.”

“You aren’t answering.”

You open your eyes, now to glare at him. “Both, obviously.”

His smirk is so satisfied, you kind of want to hit him again. He sits back on his knees and starts to undo the button of your jeans.

“Okay?”

You nod. “Your shirt first, though.”

He pulls it off, and you think your mouth actually waters a little. You sit up and he groans because he can’t undo your jeans now. But you have to touch. You have to map every line and curve of his body with your hands, taking in that warmth and softness. You kiss his chest, unable not to.

“I fully support all the working out.”

He giggles before trying to usher you to lay back down. He’s mostly successful though you have to kiss him again, taste his tongue and mouth again. 

He’s single-minded, returning to your jeans and dragging them off you before doing the same on himself. You’ve sat up, legs crossed, eyes just marveling at him and every reveal of skin that you get. 

“I guess it’s kind of late, but I haven’t been with anyone in months. I’m clean.” Just clad in his boxer-briefs, he sits next to you, his hand on your thigh, drawing up and down the length of it. 

“Years,” you admit. “But yeah, clean.”

He grasps you by the chin, bringing your mouth close. “Years?”

“I’m not a sexy rapper.”

He kisses you lightly. “True.”

You punch his shoulder and he doesn’t even flinch. He’s laughing into your mouth, kissing; his other hand cupping the back of your neck. You scoot closer, knees on either side of his hips. You roll your hips the moment you sink down.

His groan is music. 

“You have protection?” You ask in between kisses. He rests his forehead on your collarbone when you repeat the motion, biting your lip so you don’t echo his groan. 

“You don’t?”

“Years,” you repeat. He lifts his head to smile at you. 

“I do.”

“See…sexy rapper, with groupies all ready to throw themselves at you.” You tousle his hair, jerking when his hand drifts under your underwear, palming your ass. 

He rolls his eyes at you, but leans over to pull his wallet out of his discarded jeans, seeking the one condom he has. He hands it to you, freeing his hand to help lower you both back to the bed. 

Underwear tossed aside, latex rolled on; there are more kisses, and explorations of each other. He pushes in so gently, with whispered compliments and soft touches. It’s a different tone and color than his performative rapping. 

Softer, quieter. Private. 

Perhaps since it’s been years, it seems to happen all too quickly. You first then him. He’s collapsed on you, his breath harsh pants. You give into your earlier fantasy and lick away a drop of sweat off his temple. His hold on you tightens. 

“We should get some sleep,” you say, playing with his hair. 

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbles into your skin. 

You smile sadly, recognizing that it’s only hours left. He rolls off of you, planting a kiss on your shoulder. His eyes are half-open, sleep oncoming.

You roll to your side, curling up next to him. “I’ll wake you.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes. “You better.” His eyes flutter closed. “I wanted to sleep next to you that night on the train.”

“Me too.”

–

“Hello friends,” you greet the camera with a smile. “I just arrived and have made it through customs, which is way better streamlined than in the States. It was a long flight,” you nod at some passengers you pass on your way to the arrival area. “But pretty uneventful. I think I slept nearly all of it.”

You look around once you go through the automatic sliding doors. 

“I can’t believe I’m here. It’s been almost six months and–” You break off when you hear your name above all the pandemonium of the Seoul International Airport. Your camera turns with you as you try to follow that shout. 

On Youtube, the video loses focus and there are muffled voices. The shot is of a far-off baggage claim and dozens of walking legs and shoes. When the camera is righted, it frames two faces.

You’re no longer on your own.

----

(c) yoongihan 2024. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.

[jiraisupportgroup]

First of all - I'd like to note that this post is not intended to pressure anyone to change or to make people feel ashamed for the position they are in in life. I feel like a lot of people don't understand that being in this position is not often a choice. A majority of the time there are mental illnesses or chronic physical illnesses which lead someone to this point. It isn't like they're just hanging out at home all day having a blast - it is emotionally and physically taxing to be in this position, and it can be incredibly hard to break out. Not impossible!! Just very hard.

It is not as simple as "just go outside" "just get a job" etc; that kind of advice is not helpful. This post is mostly aimed at people who want to make some sort of change in their routine. Again, if you don't want to change or don't feel a need to - I'm not here to pressure you into changing your life or to tell you you are wrong for living this way - you're not, you're okay I promise. More so this is for people who are thinking about changing things up or adding a little more structure to their life.

Keep in mind - there is no shame in this. If you're looking at your daily log of activities and it isn't what you want it to be that is okay! Don't beat yourself up or be down on yourself for not being perfect or not being where you want to be. This is just so we can identify trends in our behaviours and more clearly see the things we want to cut back on or the things we want to add to our daily / weekly routines.

Try to keep this in a place where it is easy to keep track of. I typically recommend something digital like a notes app on the phone or a google document since you can access that from a computer or your phone - that way it's much easier to just pop in and write a simple note like "10am - had a bagel for breakfast", or a little pocket notebook that you can keep on your person. Make it as easy for yourself as possible.

It can also help to add little notes about how certain activities make you feel or your general mood throughout the day. This doesn't have to be extensive, but something like "Took a shower, feel refreshed but exhausted", or "2-4pm scrolling TikTok, I don't feel anything, I'm a little irritated". Keeping in mind how certain activities make you feel is a good step in identifying how different things affect your mental health and overall energy / stress levels. This can also help us start to see some of the underlying reasons for some of your behaviours. If you start to see why you do or don't like doing certain things, you can have a better understanding of yourself and how you can go about changing certain habits.

For example if you absolutely 100% detest doing the dishes, the feeling, the smell, how long it takes, etc, it isn't going to be very helpful to have a "just do it" approach to building the habit. It will become much easier if we also adopt other things into this such as having a dish-washing chair, a special soap, or gloves to make the process more bearable before throwing yourself head-first into it.

Some goals are easier to identify than others. For example "I want to brush my teeth every night" is a pretty identifiable goal and the steps you need to take to achieve that goal are pretty straightforward. Other goals like "I want to feel more productive" or "I want to have more energy" are vague and difficult to achieve in themsevles, so we need to break them down.

What does each goal mean to you? What does "being more productive" mean? Does it mean keeping your room clean? Creating a physical product or hobby? Achieving smaller goals throughout the day? Exercising more? Trading social media for something like a book? Learning something new? What smaller aspect of this larger idea stands out to you? Once it is broken into parts it's much easier to work on one aspect at a time instead of just trying to change everything overnight.

Other goals seem like too much, like "I want to be able to go to the grocery store by myself". That's an easily identifiable goal, but it's a BIG goal. There are likely steps you'll have to take to work up to this goal, and those steps are heavily tied to the reasons why you don't like going to the grocery store in the first place. If the crowds make you anxious - going out with friends or family to less crowded places, or going to the grocery store at less busy times of day could help. If the food items stress you out - going out to places like office supply stores that don't carry food items or going to the store without the intent of buying anything just to walk around and get used to it might be helpful. Some stores like Kroger, Ingles, or Target often have little coffee shops in them - maybe going to one of these with friends just to get a snack and hang out can help expose you to the idea of the store itself without the pressure of having to pick out what you're buying or the pressure of interacting with the cashier so you don't have to tackle it all at once. Or if you typically get groceries delivered to your house, maybe you could do a purchase online pick up in-store thing one day - you don't have to spend much time in the actual store, and you don't have to pick items out while you're there, but it'll get you to the actual store and then you can just go home right afterwards. Try to find ways to get slowly closer and closer to your final goal without throwing yourself headfirst into it. (One thing I will say specifically about going to the grocery store is try to avoid planning out exactly what you're going to purchase beforehand - I used to do this and I would end up crying in the middle of the store if they didn't have the exact bread they wanted, it backfired on me more than once T-T so do that at your own risk).

Write out as many or as few goals as you can think of. These are long-term goals, so if your list feels really long don't worry! You don't have to do all of this at once! In fact, I implore you not to try and do too many of these things at once! Try not to get overwhelmed if it feels like a lot - you've got time, this is not a once-and-done kind of thing, we're going to take it slow and try to be reasonable with ourselves and our expectations of ourselves.

But how do you pick a goal? There's a lot of ways you could do this. Some people like to try and go for the one that seems the hardest first - I've never really had luck with this I usually just give up when I feel like it's too hard. Some people try to pick the one that seems the easiest to ease themselves into it - this is always nice because it can help you feel like you're actually making progress and changing things. Some people pick ones that overlap. Like if you want to spend less time on social media and more time doing a hobby like knitting - you can combine those two goals into "trade social media time for knitting" to kind of tackle two things at once. Try not to combine too many things together - we do still want these goals to be small and separate from each other - but smaller ones like that it is okay to and makes sense to combine together.

So! You've picked a goal to work towards! Yay! How do we do that? It depends on the goal you've picked. If it's something physical like showering, brushing your teeth, vacuuming, doing the dishes, going for a walk, or cooking dinner, it's a little easier to track. Setting reminders or keeping a log of when you do these things can help, some people like having weekly or daily checklists to keep track of what has been done and when. Try to avoid putting too many things on the checklist - we don't want to overwhelm ourselves, remember we're just working on one thing right now.

For others, picking a certain day of the week or time of day to do these things can help as well. Having a set time or day for certain activities can help set the routine of doing them, and also makes it a little easier to keep track of when they are done. If you miss these days or times don't beat yourself up! Try to avoid the feeling of "oh well I was supposed to shower at 7pm and now it's 10pm so I missed my opportunity" you can deviate from the timeframes you set for yourself they're just a guide. But over time if you decide you're going to brush your teeth at 9pm every night, after a month or two you'll start being like "oh it's 9pm I'm going to go brush my teeth" it becomes a second-hand habit that you don't have to think about too hard after a few months.

If it is a more nebulous or vague goal, we might want to make a roadmap. Like if your end goal is "I want to be able to keep my room clean consistently" there's a lot that goes into that. Often that includes dishes, taking the trash out, doing laundry, folding the laundry, vacuuming, etc. Trying to take all of that on at once can be really overwhelming! Start small. Let's say, maybe every other night you want to take the dishes from your room to the kitchen. Just focus on that. Or maybe you want to make your bed every day. Or maybe you want to do your laundry once a week. Pick one aspect to focus on for a while, and slowly build on that. After about 2 weeks of taking your dishes to the kitchen every other night, maybe you can add washing them into that. Or after doing your laundry once a week for about a month, you can add folding it into that. If you ease yourself into it, it gets much easier to actually build these habits and not super overwhelm yourself right off the bat. And if you miss a day, that's okay! I'm not expecting you to set a goal and then immediately be able to do it all the time, and you shouldn't expect that of yourself either. Go easy on yourself. Slow progress is still progress. Maybe you're not making your bed every day, but making it once or twice a week is still progress! And over time that once or twice a week will evolve into three or four times a week. And it'll just keep going from there.

On the other hand, if you're trying to STOP doing something as much - the approach is often a little different. Some people like to use timers or notes to show when they last did something so they can see how long it's been or notice changes in whether they're doing it more or less frequently. If it's something like trying to cut back on social media you can set time limits on your phone for how long you're allowed to use each app. These are easy enough to bypass but often times having that reminder of "Hey it's been 15 minutes your time limit is up" can be a reminder to yourself that you want to be more mindful of how long you're spending on these apps, even if you just extend the time limit when it pops up.

Set up alternatives for yourself! It's really hard to say "oh I just won't do that anymore", give yourself something else to do instead. If you want to spend less time on social media, you might instead spend more time reading, drawing, or even playing video games. (Trading social media for video games is a healthy trade I will die on this hill - I don't care how many articles you've seen saying they're just as bad as each other I promise you Persona 5 is not as bad as Twitter for your mental health). If you want to stop smoking, instead have gums, lollipops or a drink you enjoy; or practice breathing techniques when you want to smoke; or if you vape try switching to a lower concentration juice (I'm also trying to stop smoking so I feel you on this it's a tough one). If you're trying to stop SH, have other things like ice cubes, rubber bands, pens, or something that will give you a physical sensation without causing harm (or as much harm). Work with yourself, identify what you're getting from each of these things, and try to make a trade for something that is a little better for you but still gives you some of that thing that you want. Don't beat yourself up if you do still engage in these habits, it is hard to stop. Instead of punishing yourself for still doing these things, praise yourself for doing them less often. (And if you're not doing them less often, praise yourself for being aware of your habits in the first place).

The hardest thing about this whole process is getting the motivation to start. Once you get started it's much easier to keep it going, but that first push to get the ball rolling is the hardest part. For a lot of things you can't wait until you feel like doing it - often that won't come. There are different ways people motivate themselves to do things they don't want to do. Ease yourself into it, don't do everything at once do the first step of the process and then take a little break. For example, if you're folding the laundry, separate it into categories then take a little break. When you come back fold one category, then take a break. Then do the next category. Over time the laundry will be all folded! Set a timer, think about how much time you could reasonably spend doing something. Let's say 10 minutes. Set a timer for 10 minutes, then start whatever task it is you want to do. If you want to clean your room maybe set a timer for 10 minutes and spend that time picking up trash. After those 10 minutes are up you're done. You can come back to more of it later. Often times you'll find that you're able to finish a lot of tasks faster than you thought you'd be able to, and if they're not finished oftentimes times you're more inclined to keep going once those 10 minutes are up since you've already started the ball rolling. Some people use a sort of "rip the bandaid off" technique where they set an alarm to go do something and as soon as that alarm goes off they just force themselves do it. This is hard at first but it does become easier. Think of it like you're jumping into a pool. 3...2...1... GO! Often that initial push to just start walking to go to the thing you want to do is the hardest, and once you're moving it becomes easier.

Tell a friend you're going to do it. Sometimes this helps you feel more motivated to do it since you're giving yourself a little bit of outside pressure to complete the task. On this note, weirdly enough, stretching can help you get motivated to do harder tasks. Like if you want to take the trash out but you're laying in bed, stretching in bed just to get your blood moving can sometimes help you get that initial push to get up and take the trash out.

Work with yourself. Try different approaches, and celebrate your successes no matter how small they may seem. Over time you will find things do get easier, and after tackling one small goal for a month or two, you can add another small goal into the mix.

Some popular app recommendations (I'm so sorry this list is so short - hoping to add to it in the future)

IAmSober - Andriod and IOS - allows you to set multiple goals of things you want to stop doing and shows you timers for how long it's been since you last engaged in that habit.

Flora - Google Play, IOS, and Chrome Extension - sets a timer for how long you don't want to use your phone or computer, once you finish this timer without using your device it grows a tree, and adds that tree to your garden. I used to use this for studying back in college and I quite enjoyed it.

HabitShare - Android, Google Play, and IOS - set habits and keep track of when you've completed them, you can also link with friends to see each other's habits too (although, this is optional you can also keep it private).

These are the best-rated free apps I could find for this kind of thing, if there are others that you use or have used in the past please feel free to comment or rb I would love to be able to add to this list.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope this can be at least a little helpful and I hope it doesn't come off as a "just do it" kind of vibe. I know getting the motivation to start building new or breaking old habits is realllllly hard so hopefully, this is at least a bit helpful T-T

As always, I love you guys and I'm proud of you for being here and doing what you can ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ please feel free to comment or send in any questions, comments, concerns, additions, or anything of that sort ~ ♡

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 6

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 3517

Warnings: Angst, some Fluff, Confrontation, Dean being a sweetheart.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 6

You moved slowly as you unpacked the things Dean had packed and brought down there. He’d remembered so much more than your mind had even considered, like toiletries. It felt odd, being in this underground home built to not only hide you but keep you safe and taken care of.

The hours passed slowly for you. Dean had left you there around one-thirty. When your stomach began grumbling for nourishment around five, you dragged your feet as you explored the kitchen. It had a lot of non-perishables, like powdered milk, canned meat, vegetables, and fruits. There were potato flakes, too, along with a slew of other boxed items you didn’t feel like looking through.

Cereal it is.

This house was eerily quiet compared to the one above ground, and your mind took mental notes of it as you ate. You couldn’t hear any car or animal. Not even a cricket. Refrigerators typically have a hum, but this particular one didn’t, making the kitchen a vacuum of sound. Each bite of cereal you took seemed to echo in the silence, amplifying your solitude. I need some sound, any sound.

You ate quickly, the silence becoming unbearable. You needed some sort of noise to silence the silence that seemed to be getting too much on you. After you grabbed your phone charger from the bag in your room, you plugged it in, turned on your playlist, and sighed in relief when the first notes of Back in Black began playing, filling the void with a familiar comfort. The music, familiar and comforting, was a lifeline in the sea of silence, easing your unease and loneliness.

It would still be a bit before Dean was due back, so you headed to the room with the computers, wanting to see if anyone had been there while you had been gone earlier. Plus, it’d give you something to do. Earlier in the day, you’d put both keys on a necklace chain and wore it under your shirt; plus, it made it easier not to lose them.

Settling into the chair in front of the monitors, you clicked around on different things, finally finding the saved recordings. You found it interesting how the live feed was up on the other three monitors while you fiddled around on the fourth, looking through the saved files.

Luckily, there was nothing there that you had to worry about. It was either you or an animal of some kind outside that had tripped the motion sensor to record its movement. That was when you came across the one where Dean had spent the night, and furrowed your brow, confused as you watched him in the recording.

Your classic rock playlist continued to play in the background as you watched him. He stayed on the couch for a while, laying there, but in a way so he could easily look toward the top of the stairs. An hour or so later, he got up and paced a little before heading up the stairs. Different cameras picked him up, so you played the recordings with his movements. He stood in your doorway, which you left open.

The camera that was in your room picked up the front of him. He brought his right hand up to the front of his left shoulder, rubbing it slightly. You weren’t entirely sure why he would do that, unless perhaps he was sore from work, even though it had been an easy day.

You could see that he was mouthing words, but the camera didn’t pick up sound, sadly. He crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, just watching you, for at least an hour. Dean never went into your room, though. He walked through the house, checking the doors and windows, then stood in your doorway again.

Why would he do that? Does he know something else that I don’t? Maybe he was just worried about me.

When you realized, through the recordings, that he had only gotten four hours of sleep that night, you were determined to make sure he got decent sleep tonight. Then you sighed, as he hadn’t said he’d stay with you. 

If he does stay, he can have the bed. I’ll take the couch.

Glancing down at your phone, you sighed again, knowing he wouldn’t be back for at least another half hour. One recording did catch your eye, though. It was one while Dean was sleeping, and it had several linked recordings from other cameras.

At first, you didn’t see anything as to why the camera would activate, even after you replayed it half a dozen times. On that next play-through, though, you felt sick as the chill of goosebumps ran down your body out of fear.

There was a silhouette of a man outside the window of the living room where Dean was sleeping. You watched all the connected videos, and they had caught not only the man’s appearance, but also the vehicle he had driven there in, with the license plate number.

You were going to take down the information and give it to Jodi, but you had no way of getting it to her without using your phone or leaving the safety of this home-like bunker. Just as you leaned back in the seat, several of the outside cameras got a red line around them, signifying motion. It was a car you didn’t recognize, but Dean got out of the passenger seat, with a bag in his hand. You got closer to the screen, squinting a little, noticing it looked like an overnight bag. You smiled, relieved you wouldn’t be alone, but also that it was Dean who had showed up and not some stranger.

The car that had dropped him off drove away shortly after, which relieved you. You watched him move through the house, locking doors behind him. When he reached the secret door, he looked over his shoulder, then did the secret knock he’d come up with earlier. You excitedly ran to the main door, popped it open, and then ran up the stairs, opening that door as well, still smiling.

“You made it,” you began, but he put his finger to his lips, meaning for you to keep quiet, so you nodded and went back down the stairs. Dean followed you after he closed the door. 

Is he worried someone is listening? Did someone follow him? Did he see something while he was outside that the cameras didn’t? Did someone tell him something?

You had so many questions but were keeping quiet until the two of you were inside the bunker. Once he tossed his bag on the floor near the couch, you practically tackled him in a hug.

“It’s so quiet here,” you told him, doing your best not to cry, again.

Deam was surprised, but he smiled softly and wrapped his arms around you, “Hope it’s okay if I spend the night. Might not be so quiet then.”

You pulled back and looked up at him curiously, with your arms still around the back of his neck, even if you did have to stand on your tiptoes to do so. “You’d really stay down here with me in the silent underground solitude?” you asked, puzzled.

The laughter that erupted from deep in his chest made you have to let go and take a step back. You weren’t entirely sure why he had found your question so amusing, but hearing him laugh like that made you smile.

It took Dean a few moments to catch his breath, which almost made you start laughing, “Sweetheart, you’ve got your own secret hideout. Why wouldn’t I want to hang out here with you? It’s like having your very own personal Bat-Cave, like Batman.”

At least now you understood why he had found your statement so funny. And the more you thought about what he said, you laughed hard at it. “Thanks. I really needed that,” you finally told him, now smiling and far more relaxed than you had been all day.

“Now, did you eat?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, around five. Oh, and tonight, you’re sleeping on the bed. I saw you stayed up last night and watched over me. There’s no need to do that down here. So, I’m going to make sure you’re comfortable and actually sleep tonight,” you told him, crossing your arms.

He tried not to laugh, and it came out as a quiet chuckle, “Sweetheart, you sleep in your bed. I’ll take the couch. No need to go to any extremes.”

You rolled your eyes, “Only if you answer a couple questions,” you told him, raising an eyebrow.

“What questions?” he asked, looking mildly curious but also almost worried.

“Why did you rub your shoulder last night? We had an easy day at the garage,” you asked cautiously. You knew there was a possibility that whatever it was could be personal.

He sighed before he sat down on the couch. Well, more like plopped down, so you sat on the far side, near the arm. “It’s my soulmate’s name. That’s all,” he answered quietly without looking at you.

Now you felt really bad. You knew that was a touchy subject for him. Much like you, but in almost opposite ways. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that personal. You can have the couch,” you replied quietly.

“It’s just a sore subject, for both of us,” he replied, motioning to the two of you. “If you want to talk about it, we can, but that means we both share stuff. Keep it fair. If you don’t want to, we can talk about other stuff.”

That was when you remembered the man from the night before, on the recording, “Maybe another time. There’s something I need to show you,” you told him, somewhat worried at how he’d react.

Dean followed you into the room, puzzled but silent. He watched the recordings from behind you, but you would glance up from time to time. You could tell that he was very clearly upset and angry. It was worse than when he was around Cole earlier. Dean’s jaw was clenched, his arms crossed over his chest, and he looked beyond pissed. You were sure you saw fire behind those emerald green eyes of his as he glared at the monitor.

“Azazel,” he said in a low, almost inaudible growl.

You turned back to the monitor, remembering the name from your parents' letters. Now, you had a face you could put to a name. 

That night, Dean pulled out two phones and explained they were burner phones so you could still communicate with the outside world. He also handed you a piece of paper with several people’s numbers. You recognized all the names but not the numbers. So, he explained that everyone had burner phones now so that you could talk to them, as could Dean.

You wanted to ask him how he knew to do something like this, but at the same time, you weren’t sure you really wanted the answer. You just nodded in understanding while he explained it. Then he helped you get a pillow and blanket for him to use on the couch for the night. 

Once that was set up, he slipped off his shoes near the door, then sat down on the side of the couch where his pillow was. You chose to sit on the coffee table again, not wanting to invade what was now his bed. 

The awkward silence hung between the two of you, but Dean looked more confused than awkward. You just weren’t sure what to say or ask. Sure, you had plenty of questions, but you already felt bad that he got dragged into this huge mess surrounding you and your past. “What’s wrong?” Dean finally asked with a sigh, noticing how you wouldn’t look at him.

“A lot,” you mumbled, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. “I feel bad. You got dragged into my mess.”

Dean sighed again, then held his arms open, “Come here.”

You looked up at him, slightly puzzled, but he motioned with his fingers for you to go to him. Biting your lip nervously, you finally, but reluctantly, got up and moved over to the couch next to him. Dean pulled you against him, gently holding you close.

“You didn’t drag me into this, Sweetheart. There’s still a lot you don’t know and right now really isn’t the time to go into all those details. I can tell you’re overwhelmed. What can I do to help you relax?” his words were soft, and you found yourself calming the more he spoke.

“I’m just scared, and this place was so quiet when you were gone, and so… lonely…” you admitted quickly.

He took a shaky breath, “Hopefully, it won’t be lonely while I’m here. Still didn’t answer my question, though,” he chuckled at the end, a bit playfully.

For a bit, you thought about his question and couldn’t help the light blush that crept into your cheeks, “This is helping,” you mumbled shyly.

With where your head was on his chest, as well as your hand, you felt his heart rate increase a little and found it odd. You again reminded yourself that he had a soulmate, and it was nothing more than him, perhaps being nervous about your reply. So, you mumbled an apology.

“I wish you’d stop apologizing already. If it bothered me, I’d tell you. I like spending time with you, and no one should have to go through something like this alone,” he told you, and you pouted.

You opened your mouth, about to apologize again, then closed it. His wish had effectively stopped you from being able to respond at the moment as your brain attempted to think of what else to say. You began absentmindedly playing with a tiny crease in his shirt and didn’t notice how his breathing got a little heavier as you continued to contemplate a response.

“So, um, you want me to just let you get some sleep then?” you finally asked, not sure of another topic to broach at the moment.

“Or, we could have a drink, and you can relax so you can sleep,” he suggested a little playfully.

Leave it to your best friend to think of you like he always seemed to do since the two of you had gotten to know each other. There were days, like today, that it felt like so much longer than roughly two months. Then there was how you felt around him, especially within just the last day. He gave a sense of safety and comfort you had only ever gotten from the adults in your life, up until him.

“I guess so,” you mumbled, lost in your thoughts again, trying not to let your mind drift past him only being your best friend.

“You’re so stubborn,” he chuckled in amusement before shifting, causing you to move so he could get up.

You glared playfully at him as he went to the kitchen and pulled two beers out of the fridge. He popped the tops, smirking in that playful way as he made his way back to the couch. You shifted a little, making room again so he could return to his seat.

“Thanks,” you told him, taking the beer he handed you before sitting down again. “I’m not always stubborn.”

Dean chuckled, seeing the way your lips frowned into a pout, “You know, you’re adorable when you pout like that.” He shifted a bit so that he was turned more to face you, his arm over the back of the couch with his leg bent at his knee on the cushion. So, you did the same but kept your hands in your lap, one of them holding your beer.

“I know it’s a touchy subject, but… When you do find your soulmate, I don’t mind telling her what an amazing guy you are. And… I’ll understand that we won’t spend as much time together,” you told him with a soft smile. The strange part was that you almost felt a sense of heartbreak after those words left your lips, but you hid it well.

The smirk he had turned into a soft smile, “Only as long as I get to do the same for you.”

“Fair,” you replied, managing to give him at least a small smile. “How long are you staying for?”

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Dean began, then trailed off, looking away from you, debating how to answer you. “Someone followed me, at least to your driveway, but they drove past. I uh, we’re sort of stuck down here, together.” He finished, sounding nervous and apprehensive again.

At first, you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about that. It would, of course, be nice not to be alone, but you had figured Dean would have the freedom to come and go as he wanted. You wanted to apologize but remembered he wanted you to stop doing that, so you didn’t.  You knew there was plenty of food, even if most of it was things you weren’t used to eating. At least neither of you would go hungry.

You stared off toward the floor as you sipped your beer, thinking about the predicament that both of you were in. Books and lots of movies, even if they were on VHS, could occupy at least some of the time there. Showering would be simple enough; you figured the two of you would just take turns. What about maybe needing alone time? Does Dean need someplace more private than the living room? He already said that the bedroom was mine and he wasn’t going to sleep there and have me on the couch. Maybe we could hang sheets so he had a more secluded spot. We could even rearrange if he wanted to.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you about being down here with you,” he said, pulling you from your thoughts.

That was when you realized you hadn’t even commented on what he’d said. “No, no, no. It’s nothing like that. I was lost in my thoughts,” you quickly replied apologetically, meeting his gaze.

Why does he have to look at me like that? Almost like… No, he has a soulmate. He’s not thinking about me. He’s thinking about her. Now stop it, brain.

“Care to share, Sweetheart?” he asked with that smirk of his that always made you smile.

“Just, stuff, that’s all,” you replied, a little shyly, looking away from him. “I’ve never lived with anyone before, not like this anyway.”

Somehow, you managed to explain to him the things you’d been thinking about but focused more on making a more private space for him in the living room. He at least seemed to like the idea or perhaps it was appreciation that you thought of him like that. You weren’t quite sure.

“We can do that tomorrow if you’d like,” he suggested when you finally stopped babbling about the thoughts that had been in your head. At least he didn’t seem upset with you, which was a relief. “Why don’t you go get some sleep, though? It’s late.”

“Only if you promise that you’ll sleep and not stay up all night watching over me,” you replied, crossing your arms and attempting to look serious.

That, of course, only made him chuckle, “You’re adorable when you act like that. I promise I’ll get some sleep, just not gonna promise on how much.”

You playfully smacked his shoulder before cleaning up the two empty beer bottles. For a moment, you stood in the kitchen near the trash, not wanting to feel what you were feeling. Quickly brushing it aside, you went back out, standing near the hallway.

“Then, I’ll see you in the morning,” you told him, giving him a half smile.

“Night, Sweetheart,” he replied, and you turned from him to your room.

He has a soulmate, you repeated in your mind as you got ready for bed, then slipped under the covers. You didn’t want to feel anything more than friendship toward him, but it was getting difficult. The chain with the keys was still around your neck, but you had left the door open in your closet to the security room. It was for Dean, in case he had wanted to go in there. You thought perhaps it might help him relax, knowing he could watch what was going on outside the bunker, or Batcave, as he had called it.

Your thoughts were still on him as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep. The way you felt in his arms and how easy it was to talk to him. The idea of living with him made you happier than you wanted to admit, to anyone, but more to yourself. 

The last thought on your mind before sleep overtook you was you and Dean, lying in your bed, and he was holding you close. A happy smile even crossed your lips lazily just as the blackness took you for the night.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 7

Story Master List Main Master List

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @jamerlynn @jackles010378 @bruhidkjustwannaread @onthehuntforshinies

@chriszgirl92 @angzls @xolivvies-cornerxo @certainsaladstarfish @onlyangel-444

@nancymcl @muhahaha303 @suckitands33 @kr804573 @justrandomthougt

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If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[detentiontrack]

hi there, hope you're doing well! do you have any survival tips for freshmen starting their first semester at college? thanks!

Hello! Yes I do! Up until this Tuesday, all of my experience has been at a community college, but I have some universal advice!

Sage's supercool freshman survival guide:

You don't need expensive and a wide variety of school supplies. Here is a list of what you need:

A notebook for each class

A good pack of pens (i like gel pens)

A pack of pencils (+ sharpener) or mechanical pencils

Either colored pens, thin tip markers, or highlighters for notes

Ruler and calculator if you are taking math/science classes

A binder or folder for loose papers

GRAPH PAPER. Even just a pack of loose graph paper. It sucks when you need it and don't have it

2. it's better to take notes on paper vs on a computer unless you have some sort of reason (like dyslexia, visual impairment, or other physical disability etc) Taking paper notes forces your brain to pay attention better, and you can reference them easier than if you take them on a computer. (plus a lot of professors don't allow laptops in lectures unless you have an accommodation with the school)

3. GET A PLANNER! A PHYSICAL ONE!!!! Online calendars and planners are okay, but it is MUCH easier to forget assignments if they're out of sight. Get a paper planner, fill it out each week so you know what you're doing, and keep it opened on the current week somewhere you can see it. I personally like the planners intended for teachers because it divides the days up with individual subjects! This is the one I got for this school year

4. Get a giant ass water bottle. If you are going from class to class, you most likely won't have time to refill your water bottle. Get a huge one, fill it up at home or at your dorm or whatever, and carry it with you. I promise you it is worth adding an extra thing to carry (mine is a 1/2 gallon)

5. No one at college cares about stuff like in high school. No one cares what you're wearing or how you're doing your hair. In fact, individuality is ENCOURAGED. Wear bright colorful makeup or weird earrings. Do what makes you happy.

6. Pack yourself lunches and snacks that you can easily stuff in your face while walking to your next class. I'm a big fan of protein shakes and granola bars.

7. Ask questions! No one will think you're annoying for asking "too many" questions. It's better to over ask than under ask and not understand the topic. Chances are, at least one other person in the room has the same question as you.

8. Similar to number 7, most professors will gladly go back and explain a topic again or in a different way! Just politely and respectfully ask for them to briefly go over it again, or define a word you don't understand.

9. Unlike high school, most professors don't care, and will actually get annoyed if you interrupt their lesson to ask to go to the bathroom or take a phone call or even leave class early. Unless they explicitly say you can't leave (like during a test) you can just walk out, no questions asked.

10. Do every extra credit assignment you can. Even if you have a good grade in the class. You never know when you'll forget an assignment or lose points for something small. It's good to have backup.

11. Just like in a good relationship, communication with professors is everything.

12. Make connections with people in your classes. You don't have to be besties, but introduce yourself to a few people in class, make small talk, and get their phone numbers. That way you can discuss assignments or get notes if you miss a class.

13. DO NOT slack on first week assignments. Most professors WILL drop you if you A. Don't attend the first week of classes and/or B. Don't turn in the first few assignments.

14. Register for classes as soon as you possibly can. Like if your group is able to register at 9am, be in front of your computer with the registration site open at 8:55am, just to be ready.

15. ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS CHECK RATEMYPROFESSOR BEFORE REGISTERING FOR CLASSES!!! NEVER IN YOUR LIFE REGISTER WITHOUT CHECKING. IF YOU ARE LATE TO REGISTER AND A GENERAL EDUCATION CLASS AT THE PERFECT TIME SLOT IS COMPLETLEY OPEN, IT IS FOR A FUCKING REASON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Rate my professor is really accurate because people are able to submit honest reviews anonymously after the class is over. If someone says the teacher is a hard ass who is flakey and assigns a lot of reading, BELIEVE IT. Ideally you want a professor that has above a 3.5/5 rating.

16. There is no shame in needing accommodations for a disability, and getting accommodations in college is a lot easier than in k-12 school. You just need to make a request and submit proof of disability, and you'll meet with someone to give you accommodations.

17. DO NOT buy textbooks until the first week of class is over. This is for 2 reasons. 1. you might need to drop the class and 2. most professors will just give you a link to the textbook for free or post individual chapters every week. There is no point in spending $200 for a textbook you might not even use.

18. I think at every college, you can drop a class with no consequences or anything on your record as long as you drop it within the first week or so (the exact time differs depending on the college, but it's always on their website)

19. Colleges very often have events with free food or free merch. Even if you have no interest in the event, a free hot dog is a free hot dog yk?

20. If you're a freshman, literally no one knows each other and everyone is worrying about making new friends. Literally everyone. Find someone who seems cool, compliment their outfit or say something about the class/the college, and boom. New friend.

21. If you have time, join a club! Colleges have clubs for EVERYTHING and it's an easy way to connect with people who have the same interests.

22. Before your first day of class, if you're neurotic like me, take time to think of a few things: 2 truths and a lie, 3 fun facts about yourself, your favorite __, etc. Just so you can be ready for icebreakers (I actually don't know if other people are as scared of first day icebreakers as me.... Every semester I prepare 2 truths and a lie and fun facts about me so I'm ready. Just in case. This just might be my specific flavor of autism though...)

23. Colleges are big, even community colleges. Make yourself a playlist and bring headphones for walking from class to class

24. Jumping off 23, when you're choosing your classes, pull up a map of your campus. Learn how long of a walk it is from building to building, so you can make sure you have enough time to walk to your next class. This goes double if you have a physical disability. I personally need some extra time so I can drink water and walk slowly.

25. Prioritize comfort over style. Most people by the third week will just be wearing tshirts/sweaters with jeans/sweatpants. There also usually isn't a super strict dress code at college. I had a girl in my astronomy class that exclusively wore bikini tops and booty shorts, and she never had any problems.

26. It's easy to tunnel vision and schedule your classes back to back, but try to give yourself at least one gap for lunch, to stretch, or to just hang out. I have 3 on campus classes this semester and my morning class ends at 11:45am and my second class doesn't start until 1:00pm. You're (most likely) an adult, close to an adult, or have adult responsibilities. One of those responsibilities is to take initiative to take care of yourself.

27. College professors, unless they're abnormally strict, literally don't care about anything, as long as your ass is in the chair and you're not being disruptive to others. Drinking water in class? Fine. Doodling on your notes? Fine. Doing homework for another class? Fine, as long as you look up like you're paying attention occasionally. I wrote amphibia fanfiction in my classes, and I had a girl in my public speaking class who literally brought yarn and a crochet hook and crocheted stuff in class.

28. OH that's another thing! Literally no one cares about your public speaking skills. In college, it is inevitable that you'll have to take one class with speeches. People aren't waiting for you to slip up to mock you. Most people are too focused on their own speeches. I took a public speaking class last year, and I genuinely could not tell you the topic of even ONE other student's speech. It is very likely that 90% of the people won't even be paying attention to your presentation because they're worrying about if they're next.

29. In group projects, be a bitch. I'm serious. DO NOT do all the work. If people in your group aren't moving, assign them their share of work. If they still don't participate, threaten to leave. If they still don't, ask the teacher to work alone. You NEED to stand up for yourself.

30. Most colleges have a lot of services for free (or included in tuition) you should use. The library is a great resource, I'm typing this on the laptop I rented for free from my school, and I believe my college has completely free STD checks and birth control options available through their health services.

31. Expand your horizons! In college, you get a LOT of options for electives and classes. Take the fun classes or a topic you've never heard of! I'm taking a philosophy of disability class this semester for my extra humanities credit.

32. Build a good relationship with your professors. It never hurts to go up to them before or after the first class and introduce yourself.

33. DO NOT leave things for the last minute. I like to write down all my assignments for the week in my planner, sorted by due date, color coded, and plan which assignments I'm going to do on what days.

34. Take advantage of professor's office hours, especially if it's a subject you're not strong in. Personally, I'm not the best at math, and the summer I took statistics for psych, I was at my professor's office hours every single Tuesday. Even if you think you understand the subject perfectly, you never know when you're making a mistake without realizing it. It can just be a less than 5 minute zoom visit of like "hey, this is my answer to question 5 and here's my work/process. Is this correct? Yes? Okay thanks see you in class"

35. Summer classes, especially in community colleges, are a great way to get extra credits and make it so you don't have such a heavy load during the regular school year. A lot of summer classes are online, so it's really easy to do at home. But.....

36. ...NEVER IN YOUR LIFE TAKE A SUBJECT YOU ARE NOT STRONG IN OR A SUBJECT WITH A LOT OF WORK IN A CONDENSED SUMMER CLASS. Summer classes are always more work per week because you have less time to go through the curriculum, so be sure it's a light class. I took my world religions class as an 8 week summer class and oh my god.... I am being 100% serious and not exaggerating when I say I had to read 500-750+ pages a week......... be careful

37. Make time for other things! Even if you're full time school and work, let yourself watch an episode of your favorite show after homework or during a break. Rest and recreation is important too.

38. Treat yourself! When I was a kid, my mom would let me and my brother pick out a little candy at the grocery store for a "friday treat" during the school year. I still do that. It can be as simple as buying a $2 chocolate bar or finally trying that bath bomb you got as a gift.

39. You are inevitably going to get a low grade on something. You're going to struggle with a subject or misunderstand an instruction. Not one single person has made it through all of college without getting anything less than a 100%. Ask for feedback from your professors. Don't beat yourself up.

40. You don't have to have a backpack. I use a green messenger bag with embroidered mushrooms on it :3

Hope this helps!

[darlinguistics]

'its just IMPOSSIBLE to not be addicted to your phone nowadays its UNREALISTIC-'

heres some advice to being less chronically online. for gen z (and younger??) who dont even know how to start thinking about it and have only heard shitty advice from older adults who just genuinely do not get it, from a fellow gen z and my experiences so far.

*these are personal and may not all 100% resonate but its still good prompting to start thinking about things! PLEASE feel free to add your own stories/advice in the notes! support your fellow humans, dont gatekeep what youve learned, lets have these conversations! and no negativity/pessimism please <3

first thing is to make it a less scary thought, a more concrete idea and not a hypothetical. it doesnt have to be all-or-nothing, cold turkey, a huge announcement and a fundamental shift in your personality. the internet will be in your life for the rest of your life, this is an ongoing relationship you are trying to make healthier thats all! and it takes one step at a time and some self-compassion, but a true effort nonetheless. 'dont you think thats a bit too serious-' if youre my age you quite literally grew up and developed online, it is literally part of your psyche the way your childhood is, it IS serious, you deserve to treat it seriously.

dont save your login info/dont stay logged in for social media accounts, having to manually log in when you want to go on like youre on some elementary school chrome book is a really healthy and clear boundary to have between being logged off and logged on.

-> bigger challenge - uninstall it on your phone in general, only log on on your laptop/pc if applicable for you!

if youre motivated to, try to work on your posture too. i only say that because most of our bad posture is at least partially related to being on our phones a lot, and when i started wanting to fix my posture, completely separately and unrelated from trying to break my phone addiction, it made it easier to lose interest in my phone since i didnt want to ruin my progress with my posture. it made me start to have a mindset like 'well if you cant do this on your phone with good posture then dont do it' and 'if youre on your phone so long your posture starts to cave in, youve probably spent too long on your phone anyway'

listen to music more. its easier for me to kinda write off my phone and do other things if i just open music or a podcast or long youtube video on it. i know we all love long video essays, but i recommend music more specifically for me at least because im less inclined to pause music or scroll while listening to it for some reason? whereas using a show or video or podcast for white noise, im way more likely to also be scrolling on my phone and that is my activity lol. music for some reason i dont want to interrupt and instead of being on my phone i can clean or do something productive on my computer etc

this one is sooo hard but try to fall asleep with some distance between you and your phone, even just a couple feet. mine stays on the desk next to my bed which isnt that far but its better than on bed like it used to be. when you wake up you probably wont feel like reaching for it right away if its far and even better if you have to get up for it because then at least you stand and move your body first thing instead of looking at your phone first thing. and try to get more and more of your morning routine done before touching your phone over time.

-> for me, i started by just trying to at least wake up a bit in bed before touching it, then stand up before touching it, then stand and stretch, then going to the bathroom first, making coffee first, feeding the cat first, etc. its surprisingly helpful to have a specific chore/task in mind that is The requirement so that everytime you do it you get a lil dopamine rush for unlocking your phone from yourself lmao. when the weather was nice i used to make my Requirement being outside first before going on it and i LOVED that. esp as it got easier and i started doing more and more before going on it and finally walking outside with coffee and my phone felt like such a pleasant little reward.

find a hobby that uses your hands. example: i really need to get back into knitting because when i did it regularly so much time that wouldve been on my phone was spent knitting with music/podcasts/shows/(even online lectures! when i felt productive lol) playing. its the same amount of physical relaxing - barely moving lol - but uses a longer attention span and a much better dopamine hit than scrolling, i literally MADE things.

-> you might be thinking, 'but mindless knitting isnt better than mindless scrolling is it?' but that mindless feeling on your phone is just that, mindless. the mindless feeling you get when doing something like knitting is actually closer to a flow state, which is actually incredibly good for you, like a fulfilling nutritious meal as opposed to 'empty calories' or whatever

get a widget for your homescreen that shows your screen time. i have one and of course it doesnt always stop me but seeing that time go up all day the more i use it and the pride of keeping it low is really helpful

practice grounding. in general.

spend more time on anonymous activities and have more privacy and less attachment with your 'persona' - what i mean by that is, i consider things like scrolling through tumblr (for me personally!) to be relatively harmless because i dont try to like,, brand myself here. if youre a tumblr regular you know the jokes - 0 follows, 0 notes, screaming to the void, moots you dont talk to, blorbo pfp and urls, fake names everywhere, and we're having fun! basically targeting the 'everyone is famous now' thing with this one - embrace being a nobody with no personal stakes here

-> personally ive never kept up with having social media accounts that are actually just, me irl - like a facebook or main instagram, like a locals account yknow? but i think it goes for that too - stop spending so much time trying to further personalize your online presence in the hopes of it representing you perfectly - because it never will, and it shouldnt, and you shouldnt aspire for that. your social media presence is lighthearted and incredibly surface-level, treat it like that! thats not me bashing social media either, having that mindset will make it more enjoyable bc youll be using it as it should be used!

do following/followers or camera roll/files or app purges. this is also a soft launch type of way to practice easing into a better mindset. aside from just literally getting rid of junk, the process of trying to judge whether or not you need something is good practice in mindfulness! even if you dont delete everything you feel like you maybe should, thats fine, youll do other purges in the future too. eventually youll get better at parting with things and realizing when things that feel good in a moment are actually bad for you. and it forces you to regularly check in on your more long-lasting parasocial relationships online and how theyre serving you or not

speaking of parasocial - for actual friends, if theyre irl, think about how much you interact with them online vs in person and why you think that is and how it affects you. maybe youll wanna see them more irl if possible (i promise its better for your friendship), maybe youll realize you dont need to keep tabs on them anymore (old high school acquaintances lookin at you). for celebrities and fandom things - try to think about the bare minimum content from them you could do with. you dont have to unstan all your faves and stop enjoying things - but do you need their notifications on? do you need to have a stan account? do you need them on all the platforms? do you need to have all that saved content of them? are there aspects of this that you love that could be found elsewhere?

if youre of the genre of online where you just cant help yourself from getting involved in big discussions or discourse and arguments - i recommend journaling when you get upset by something online, articulating your feelings without the idea of someone ever reading it and without the goal of 'winning' or being the most correct and logical or even the most sympathetic and morally good. take away every audience aspect of it. what is this really about for you, and why would strangers online deserve to hear your personal well-thought out opinions? why would your thoughts deserve to be simplified and misconstrued and underappreciated the way they would be in this discussion? is there even an outcome to this where you feel truly satisfied? are their people who are more worthy of hearing your thoughts who arent part of this audience? is this a conversation that is best held online where so much communicative nuance is inevitably sacrificed?

in the end these are all just practices in remembering how in control you are. and that goes for if any of these are scary or too difficult sounding too! these all become less scary if you remember that as soon as anything becomes too uncomfortable or painful, you have all the power to stop doing it, make a change, and try again later. so much of advice for quitting bad habits can be intimidating because the pressure and the shame that would come from failing scares you out of the possible benefits of trying - just go ahead and kill that shame from the jump. of course youre going to fail! you are going to have setbacks! thats part of it! you have agency in this, always. the internet is not inherently or completely evil nor good. build trust in yourself to make the calls on when it is serving you and when it isnt on a case-by-case basis, and then give yourself permission to learn through trial and error.

and remember you are worth all of this effort. i believe in us <3

[dol-dee]

So... you imagine DoL set in the early 2000s? ME TOO. Tell me more about that!

aaaaaaa yes I do!!!! (Sorry for the late reply haha. I kept forgetting to come back to this ask) I think I started to feel that way pretty early on, since there's hardly any electronics around in game.

You don't have access to a phone yourself (which, admittedly makes sense as an orphan) but electronics get barely mentioned in general. (I'm guessing the true reason for it, is that it would be too much of a hassle to implement electronics as a mechanic in game. bc arguably you should easily be able to buy a phone or w/e later on, if dol actually took place in our time) Named npcs often have phones to record you with (which I kinda forgot about tbh lmao) but unless in that context, phones don't get brought up at all iirc. None of the named npcs ever ask you for your phone number and Social media isn't really a topic of conversation either.

The only Computers that I remember mentioned in game are Leightons, Mickey's, Kylars and the one you can check in the police station. (I don't remember if Bailey even has one or not.) They are far and few between. They also all read as desktop computers to me and not laptops. Hell, the only gaming Console to ever be a topic of interest, is Robins. I don't think we hear of/see any handheld conosles at all. Even TV's rarely get mentioned.

Pop Culture, like manga, anime and games doesn't seem to be a big thing yet either.

All of that gives me the impression that most electronic is still pretty sparse and hard to come around and kinda reminds me of my childhood when those interests where still conisdered niche/nerdy and weird. The few characters that have desktop pc's seem to be ones that had/have enough money (like Kylar, maybe Bailey?) to foot the bill, are either in a high enough position of power to own one (like leighton) or they're involved enough in shady business that they might have the resources to have their own equipment (Mickey).

tbf a lot of my reasoning can be argued against or easily explained away, but I think dol is infinitely more interesting as a game/story when it's set during the early/mid 2000s, where most electronics were still hard to come by.

Oh and last but not least: it simply makes for easier story telling haha. I think there would be way more ""plot holes"" you'd have trouble explaining away if it was set during modern times. considering how much digital surveilance we have nowadays.

Aside from all the examples I just brought up, dol just has that 2000s grime to me. It's so grungy and dank in it's vibes that it always reminds me of that timeframe. Just has that kinda clunky/kitschy charm to it. (a more eclectic personal explanation is that the seasons in game still feel the way I remember them for my childhood. nowadays everything feels really out of wack thanks to global warming. Although I'm sure that people who are older than me would say the same haha)

to keep this already long post short(er lmao) I'm gonna go into some headcanons under the cut; Basically which Characters have electronics and why:

Avery: has an expensive af and extremely clunky looking (by todays standards) work laptop, that she sometimes lugs around. Also owned one of the first mobile phones. Those really big and blocky ones. Maybe even had one of those phones that were built into cars. However, I think shed be kinda annoyed by mobile phones*, even if she's extremely diligent in answering her calls. (the grind never stops) *based on this comic from 1919 about pocketphones: Mostly because she strikes me as someone who doesn't care to be overly accessible and also hates it when whatever shes doing at the moment gets disrupted by something else.

Alex: Canonically has a phone in game. To me it's a landline phone. They don't own much electronics beside it. They have no desktop pc and no mobile phone. (canonically the own a tv and I feel like they'd have a radio, maybe even an old record player) Bailey: It would make sense for them to have a desktop computer but I can't remember if they canonically (and with that I mean in game) do have one or not. I could see it either way tbh. As they strike me as a stubborn hard ass whos paranoid about electronics and quickly gets annoyed by it) They only own burner phones aside from the official landline phone thats designated for "over the counter" orphanage business. Eden: Has an old ass radio and an extremely dusty burner phone that bailey gave them once. They don't own anything else

Harper: has a mobile phone they got from Remy, it's purely for business. I don't think they have one for personal business. They own a pager though bc of the hospital. They probably have a desktop pc too if only for hospital stuff.

Kylar: Has a Desktop pc, their parents footed the bill for that many screened monstrosity (tbf i dont know enough to remember if old pcs are even able to have several monitors connected to them or not). Probably had a mobile phone once. Whitney stole it. They own a few consoles but they prefer pc gaming (pc master race /j) Some 2000s era games (with no consideration for an exact timeframe) that I think Kylar would be into are : Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines American McGee's Alice Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 / Persona 3 Portable The Urbz: Sims in the City The Sims 2 The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask

Robin: No mobile phone, the only electronics they keep around (until they inevitably need to sell them for emergency money) are an old tv and a gaming console. I have no concrete headcanons regarding the exact console and games unfortunately. (They seem to like superhero related stuff and I don't remember enough games that I associate with that direction of the top of my head)

Sydney: Has access to a landline phone but thats it. they don't have a mobile phone. Maybe they got to look at/ try out a pc at Kylars house once upon a time, but I don't think Sirris has one themself. I might be off with this but I could see Sirris being the one who bought a few early nintendo consoles like the SNES and Game Cube. Maybe even a gameboy.

Whitney: I don't think Whitney or their family is particularly wealthy so all of the access to electronics that they got, is either through wealthier friends, bullying or stealing. They have a mobile phone and probably a few handheld consoles they nabbed off their victims (in secret).

[mellosdrawings]

You mentioned once you use an Ipad Pro... 11? To draw

Would you say that's beginner friendly? Not beginner in terms of art, but in terms of Ipad. Or both. Mainly I've never used an Ipad for art before. Tryna upgrade from using my thumb and phone for cheap

IPad Pro 11' 3rd generation

It's my first IPad and I got the hang of it pretty fast, so yeah I'd say it's fine even for someone who's never touched anything from Apple in their life.

I got to try it from a friend who let me draw on his own IPad for a couple days while he was busy and it immediately clicked for me.

App store and settings are mostly the same as for android tablets (or sometimes even easier to access), there are frequent updates that keep the system working just peachy, and other than that it's just like having a big phone.

I'd say the one mildly annoying thing is that downloading stuff that isn't from the app store is a nightmare and a half. I got Twst and other games on my phone that I never managed to get on the IPad because it's just a hassle to get unofficial stuff on there.

The other problem might be the price. It's an expensive investment, I had to save for almost a year to get it and the pen, but once it's bought it's durable and high quality. I'd say I've more than made it worth it with my 80Go worth of art on there.

Other than that though, it's pretty easy to get used to, and there are a big quantity of tutos online to help if you ever get stuck on something.

As for art, there are a few free apps you can try before deciding. For me it was a revelation, never had done digital art so easily before and I loved it (I used to fight with my tablet, my computer, and that godsdamned Phot*shop).

I got to try Procreate immediately thanks to my friend and bought it as soon as I got the tablet because it was simple to use and there were enough stuff on there to have fun. It's not as complete as Phot*shop but it never bothered me. Plus it's just a dozen euros once and then you have it, not a subscription that will bleed you dry (yes I hate Phot*shop, thank you for asking). And it saves on its own so no need to worry about losing hours of progress because it crashed :D

And once more, a lot of tutos online to learn to use Procreate. I'm still learning to use it to this day because I've never needed to use its full potential.

(Also there are a few 3D conception programs and other room planners that are soooooo good and practical for artists who can't be bothered with backgrounds or accessories. I do 3D models and then take screenshot to retrace in Procreate, which saves time when those are backgrounds and accessories that come up very regularly. And they haven't yet crashed on me even though I used to fight with my computer and Blender 3D to make chairs before. The full version can be pricy (or subscription based, yuk) but the free/trial versions tend to be enough for me)

TLDR: I personally got used to it very fast, and I never got much to complain about. It's an excellent tool for creating that is very stable.

[vodka-bot]

Are passwords with words actually good? I ask because you mentioned being shown that xckd comic in security class

Short Answer:

Yes! Its easier to remember, and the chance of a hacker guessing your password is very low- especially if the words are unrelated (such as CorrectHorseBatteryStaple)

Long answer:

Yes, but there are lots of different ways passwords can be compromised.

A password with words- or a passphrase- is good because it adds many possibilities. For example, CorrectHorseBatteryStaple has 25 characters in total. A hacker has no idea WHAT those 25 characters are, making a brute force attack (a method where you try every POSSIBLE combination) will take fucking eons- and nobody has time for that. Using a passphrase also prevents modifications, ie. when you use 1337speak or add random capitalization (password -> p455w0rd -> Password!).

However, a password/passphrase is only as good as how many times its used. If you use CorrectHorseBatteryStaple for everything, from your Tumblr account to your bank, it makes it REALLY EASY to hack into your stuff. If you use the same email and password for a random forum that is the SAME email and password for your paypal, they could theoretically access your paypal. There's another great xckd comic on this:

So, its best to have a different password for everything. I recommend a password manager. I personally use BitWarden since its free, can connect between your phone and your computer, and it requires one master password to access everything! (Which is easier than remembering 25 different long ass passwords). I tend to randomly generate them then punch them in.

If you want to be more secure, I recommend 'peppering' your randomly generated passwords. I wont go to into what that means, but basically, a password 'pepper' is adding an extra little bit at the end. lets say you choose your pepper to be 'xkcd', your password would look like 'passwordxkcd'. That way, if something ever happens to your password manager, you STILL don't have to worry to much about your passwords!

What I do is save a password in Bitwarden (8zeCSdv7k$), then whenever it autofills, i add my pepper onto as my official password! (8zeCSdv7k$xkcd). Therefore, the only things i have to remember are:

A) a master password, where I recommend using a passphrase, and

B) a random 'pepper' word to add onto the end of your passwords

And boom! That's IT security 101 with a dude who has taken one class.

TLDR: Passphrases are good and great for memorizing, but try not to reuse them! Use a password manager and keep your info safe!

[shinelikethunder]

Hello there! I hope you don’t mind me just dropping into your asks like this, but by all means def feel free to just delete this if so, it is kind of a weird ask.

This is the anon from the computer blog asking about a private laptop for collage! After doing (a small amount of) research into Linux, one thing that’s super confusing to me, is… how does one know which distro to use? You mentioned in the replies of the post that you use Ubuntu Linux, which seems to be one of the more popular ones. Would you recommend — and if so, why? Is it good for privacy, do you think? The best? Does the user need to have a good deal of experience with computers to keep it running? (I’ve never used a laptop before but I don’t mind trying to learn stuff)

Also this is an EXTREMELY stupid question my apologies, but how….. exactly do you put Linux on a laptop? OP from my ask said to buy a laptop with no OS but is that something you can do? I’d think so, since 0P works with computer and stuff as their job, but Reddit says that it’s not really possible and that you should just “buy like a Windows laptop and scrap the software”??? Is that… correct? How did you install Linux on your laptop — did y ou have to remove software off it or did you, as OP says, manage to find a laptop with no OS?

Again, feel free to ignore if you don’t wanna put in the time/effort to reply to this, I absolutely don’t mind — it’s a lot of stuff I’m asking and you didn’t invite it all, so ofc feel free to delete the ask if you’d like!

ha, you've zeroed in on one of the big reasons Linux is kind of a contrarian choice for me to recommend: the wild proliferation of distros, many of them hideously complex to work with. luckily, the fact that most of them are niche offshoots created by and for overly-technical nerds makes the choice easier: you don't want those. you want one of the largest, best-supported, most popular ones, with a reputation for being beginner-friendly. the two biggies are Ubuntu and Linux Mint; i'd recommend focusing your research there.

this isn't JUST a popularity-contest thing: the more people use it, the more likely you are to find answers if you're having trouble or plugging a weird error message into google, and the greater the variety of software you'll find packaged for easy install in that distro. some combination of professional and broad-based community support means you'll find better documentation and tutorials, glitches will be rarer and get fixed faster, and the OS is less likely to be finicky about what hardware it'll play nice with. the newbie-friendly ones are designed to be a breeze to install and to not require technical fiddling to run them for everyday tasks like web browsing, document editing, media viewing, file management, and such.

info on installation, privacy, personal endorsement, etc under the cut. tl;dr: most computers can make you a magic Linux-installing USB stick, most Linuces are blessedly not part of the problem on privacy, Ubuntu i can firsthand recommend but Mint is probably also good.

almost all Linux distros can be assumed to be better for privacy than Windows or MacOS, because they are working from a baseline of Not Being One Of The Things Spying On You; some are managed by corporations (Ubuntu is one of them), but even those corporations have to cater to a notoriously cantankerous userbase, so most phoning-home with usage data tends to be easy to turn off and sponsored bullshit kept minimally intrusive. the one big exception i know of is Google's bastard stepchild ChromeOS, which you really don't want to be using, for a wide variety of reasons. do NOT let someone talk you into installing fucking Qubes or something on claims that it's the "most private" or "most secure" OS; that's total user-unfriendly overkill unless you have like a nation-state spy agency or something targeting you, specifically.

how to install Linux is also not a dumb question! back in the day, if you wanted to, say, upgrade a desktop computer from Windows 95 to Windows 98, you'd receive a physical CD-ROM disc whose contents were formatted to tell the computer "hey, i'm not a music CD or a random pile of backup data or a piece of software for the OS to run, i want you to run me as the OS next time you boot up," and then that startup version would walk you through the install.

nowadays almost anyone with a computer can create a USB stick that'll do the same thing: you download an Ubuntu installer and a program that can perform that kind of formatting, plug in the USB stick, tell the program to put the installer on it and make it bootable, and then once it's done, plug the USB stick into the computer you want to Linuxify and turn it on.

Ubuntu has an excellent tutorial for every step of the install process, and an option to do a temporary test install so you can poke around and see how you like it without pulling the trigger irreversibly: https://ubuntu.com/tutorials/install-ubuntu-desktop

having a way to create a bootable USB stick is one reason to just get a Windows computer and then let the Linux installer nuke everything (which i think is the most common workflow), but in a pinch you can also create the USB on a borrowed/shared computer and uninstall the formatter program when you're done. i don't have strong opinions on what kind of laptop to get, except "if you do go for Linux, be sure to research in advance whether the distro is known to play nice with your hardware." i'm partial to ThinkPads but that's just, like, my opinion, man. lots of distros' installers also make it dead simple to create a dual-boot setup where you can pick between Windows and Linux at every startup, which is useful if you know you might have to use Windows-only software for school or something. keep in mind, though, that this creates two little fiefdoms whose files and hard-disk space aren't shared at all, and it is not a beginner-friendly task to go in later and change how much storage each OS has access to.

i've been using the distro i'm most familiar with as my go-to example throughout, but i don't really have a strong opinion on Ubuntu vs Mint, simply because i haven't played around with Mint enough to form one. Ubuntu i'll happily recommend as a beginner-friendly version of Linux that's reasonably private by default. (i think there's like one install step where Canonical offers paid options, telemetry, connecting online accounts, etc, and then respects your "fuck off" and doesn't bug you about it again.) by reputation, Mint has a friendlier UI, especially for people who are used to Windows, and its built-in app library/"store" is slicker but offers a slightly more limited ecosystem of point-and-click installs.

(unlike Apple and Google, there are zero standard Linux distros that give a shit if you manually install software from outside the app store, it's just a notoriously finicky process that could take two clicks or could have you tearing your hair out at 3am. worth trying if the need arises, but not worth stressing over if you can't get it to work.)

basic software starter-pack recommendations for any laptop (all available on Windows and Mac too): Firefox with the uBlock Origin and container tab add-ons, VLC media player, LibreOffice for document editing. the closest thing to a dealbreaking pain in the ass about Linux these days (imo) is that all the image and video editing software i know of is kinda janky in some way, so if that's non-negotiable you may have to dual-boot... GIMP is the godawfully-clunky-but-powerful Photoshop knockoff, and i've heard decent things about Pinta as a mid-weight image editor roughly equivalent to Paint.net for Windows.

[flowercrowncrip]

Hello!

I was just reading your pinned, and wondering, if you're willing to share, what dictation software you've had good experience with? Its something that would occasionally help me, but it ends up with so many typos or mistakes needing correction that Im overusing my hands anyway. /Do you have any other tips, diction, maybe speed, idk, that helps? Maybe theres a specific method to it?

Im trying to imagine what a blahaj costume looks like, it sounds cozy I think. Hope you have a great time with it :)

Hi!

I used two types of dictation software, I use dragon dictate on my laptop and the inbuilt Apple voice control on my phone and iPad. There are some differences between them but I find them about the same in terms of accuracy. The main difference is that Dragon is incredibly expensive

Using them is definitely one of these things that gets easier over time, When I first started using them five or six years ago it was really hard with a steep Learning curve. There were a lot of commands to memorise and you have to learn to talk very differently than you would if you're talking to a person. I find it's most accurate when you speak with absolutely no emotion or Tone, like you're reading out loud the most boring text you can think of. I found this easier for academic texts, but it's still weird when I'm writing social media posts using contractions and slang.

On my phone I recommend using voice control (in the accessibility settings) rather than the dictation option on the keyboard, even if you're only using it for dictation, because it's a lot easier to go back to correct mistakes with your voice using voice control over the dictate button.

I'm not entirely sure what the voice control situation is like on android phones. I used to have one, but moved to Apple because at the time it was a lot better. I also think that there might be in built voice control options for Windows computers now, but I don't have any experience with these at all.

I hope this is helpful, and if you have any more questions feel free to ask.:-)

[qqueenofhades]

you can tell you work in academia with how much patience you have for some of these asks...."I don't know what is and isn't true anymore" is such an indefensible cop out of a way to exist in the modern world. morally clean "Leftists" could at least have the decency to learn the history of the people and places they pretend to care about for internet points, but hey, it's way easier to take the Opressor Approved route and give into despair and recycle repurposed right wing propaganda like the TERF version of geopolitics. a lot of people need to ask themselves, if there were no internet asspats involved, would you actually still care?? anyway thank you for your patience and willingness to engage, you're a better person than me :')

So far as the other anon goes, they have apologized and taken responsibility that it was a dumb thing to do, I have accepted that apology, and I think that matter is now closed. And yes, I do actually appreciate (as discussed in many other posts and asks) that it is difficult to always and automatically find reliable information, that it has been made deliberately even more difficult to do so by various bad actors, and that this results in a big ol' Bad Take Sea even by people who are genuinely otherwise well-meaning or want to make a positive contribution. So I really do have sympathy for that. Perhaps the previous anon did not put that sentiment across in the best of ways, but as I said, we should all have a bit more grace in remembering that we are real people behind the computer/phone screen and are dealing with different stressful things, and therefore sometimes make mistakes and do or say things we don't mean. (You know, for those of us who aren't pornbots. Oh tumblr.)

Where you and I absolutely agree, however, is that just because it is sometimes difficult to acquire that information, or that systemic and deliberate barriers/misinformation has been put in place to increase the difficulty, it does not excuse people from the responsibility of doing so, especially if they want to put themselves in the position of being the Perfectly Correct Social Media Oracle who will judge and criticize everyone else's responses and act as if that has some real-world impact or is a real marker of someone's "personal morality." And there are for sure plenty of people who are doing that with literally no self-awareness or other critical tools, because as you say, they want the Internet Asspats for being seen as a "Good Person" according to a very narrow and limited definition. But they can't think about what that entails, how to challenge it or correct it, or otherwise apply it carefully, so, yeah.

As I said, I am generally willing to answer asks that are made in good faith and show a real willingness to learn, because (as noted and which is doubtless visible again here) I am an academic and I enjoy having these kinds of discussions. But this topic in particular, and modern social media in general, is really not made for it, and it's easy to get sucked down the Discourse Black Hole that doesn't do anything for anyone, and I try to avoid that. So I answer only when I think I can contribute something useful to the discussion, which results in those kinds of long and careful responses where I do always worry that I haven't said enough or said it the right way, especially with the bad-faith reading police eager to leap on any small misstatement or sentence taken out of context. That is of course a hazard of being a person on the Internet in 2024, and since I am still here and still answering questions generally, I have clearly decided to accept it. But I also don't have an obligation to respond to *everything,* and I don't. It is a fine line to walk and again, I am a middle-aged tired academic and ordinary person doing my best. I appreciate your support. :)

[babytarttdoodoo]

hi! I've loved all the fic's you've posted so far! could I please make a request for something where Jamie gets officially diagnosed with ADHD and the team (and Roy and Keeley) are like 'well that makes sense' and are just so supportive through the process?

This was a doozy, anon, and I hope I’ve done it justice. Sorry Keeley didn’t get a lot of screentime - it ended up being a lot more introspective.

Thanks for the prompt!

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

It wasn’t like no one had ever suggested it before.

Jamie, in fact, could clearly recall those cautious, gently probing questions Simon had ventured a few months after they’d first met. He was a teacher - a genuinely brilliant one, at that - and had recognised certain behaviours in the smart-mouthed teenager he was suddenly spending an inordinate amount of time around.

Unfortunately, Jamie had been a stubborn, prideful 16-year-old with little more than vicious dismissals for his mum’s cheery new boyfriend.

Years of school report cards and conversations at parents’ evenings echoed the same things.

If Jamie could just focus…

If he really applied himself…

If he tried a bit harder…

Exasperated teachers, tutors and coaches all leaving Jamie feeling stupid and frustrated with their attempts to guide him towards being better. Towards acting normal.

He had learned to live with the fact that some things were just harder for him than they seemed to be for everyone else. He set multiple alarms and reminders on his phone for everything he could think of. He wore jewellery and clothes that he could tug or twist or pull at without drawing too much attention to himself.

He learned to hold his tongue when he was overwhelmed and irritable for reasons he couldn’t define... and tried his best to apologise when he couldn’t keep the harsh words or knee-jerk reactions under control.

He coped.

It had finally taken a suggestion from Dr Sharon, a woman who had built up such an impressive amount of Jamie’s trust in a startlingly short amount of time that he often felt like she knew him better than he did himself, before he thought about doing anything more than that.

She had referred him to a specialist. Jamie made an appointment and answered the questions as best he could. Now, weeks later, it was official. He had ADHD.

Sitting with that information was strange. Deciding what to do with it was worse.

The first person he told was his mum. Obviously. She was reassuring and supportive, like he knew she would be, and even offered to take the train down that weekend to visit. Jamie declined, but he did have another request.

“Can you tell Simon?” he managed to choke out at the end of the call. “I think he’d like to know.”

The next conversation was a bit more complicated.

In amongst the information he’d received with his letter from the clinic were recommendations for ‘workplace accommodations’ - things that could help make ADHD easier to manage in a professional environment.

Most of it was completely irrelevant. Jamie didn’t need to sit in meetings all day or focus on a computer screen - he just needed to play football and that was the one thing he’d never had any problem with. But the advice (which Dr Sharon endorsed) was to discuss options with a manager.

Problem was, his manager was now technically Roy Fucking Kent.

And Jamie had absolutely no idea how to go about saying ‘hey, apparently my brain works differently’ to him in a way that wouldn’t end in either ridicule or dismissal.

(He was aware that he was perhaps being unfair to the man who was in many ways one of his closest friends these days. But there was a long and colourful history there that shaded every new interaction between them with the potential for chaos.)

Finally, driven half demented by days of overthinking it, he printed out a copy of his letter from the clinic and tossed it more or less directly at Roy’s head while he was filling out paperwork in his office. It mercifully landed on his desk, rather than smacking him in the face.

“Well, fuck you, too.” Roy deadpanned, fixing Jamie with a half-hearted glare and making no move to open the folded paper. “What’s that?”

“You could just fucking read it.” Jamie sulked, shoving his hands deep into the pouch of his hoodie. “‘S a letter, innit? From the doctors’.”

That had Roy frowning, what Jamie recognised as concern bunching up his brow. He picked up the document and unfolded it about as aggressively as one conceivably could. Kind of impressive, actually.

Jamie pinpointed the exact moment the information sank in and averted his gaze, locking in on the one part of the desk that wasn’t covered in files or wires or photo frames.

“Right.” Not bad, as far as reactions went. In his peripherals, Jamie saw Roy nod and readjust his hold. “... thank you. For, um, letting me know.”

“Yeah, well.” Jamie shrugged, plucking at the seams inside his pocket and studiously keeping his eyes trained on the same corner of Roy’s desk. “The leaflets and that they gave me said I should tell my boss. So. Now I have.”

“Right.” Roy repeated, agreeing like that made sense. He cleared his throat. “I know fuck all about it.”

“Join the club.”

That eased some of the weird tension that had been brewing and Roy huffed a laugh.

“Fair enough. Are you alright?”

Jamie gave that due consideration and finally dragged his stare back to Roy’s face before answering. “I think so. It’s weird, being told your brain is all…” He waved a hand around. “But it’s… nice. Knowing it’s not just me.”

Roy narrowed his eyes, assessing the truth of Jamie’s words, and seemed to accept what he said. “Is it alright if I put it in your file? Nate and Beard might have some input. Higgins should know too, probably.”

“Whatever.” Jamie chewed on his lower lip, mulling the implications over. “I don’t want to have to, like, say anything about it. But, yeah, you can tell whoever.” 

“That include the team?”

Jamie sucked in air through his teeth and pursed his mouth. Why that set his teeth on edge, he didn’t know. They were good lads - not always the most sensitive but they all (Jamie included) tried extremely hard to lift each other up when a difficult topic wormed its way into the safe space of their locker room.

This wasn’t Colin coming out or Sam fighting back against racist dickheads, though. It was just Jamie and his weird fucking brain.

“Dunno. I mean. Yeah. If you want.”

If Roy noticed his hesitation, he didn’t mention it.

Not a lot changed over the next few weeks. Jamie was still Jamie, after all. His quirks hadn’t disappeared overnight or become suddenly worse.

He coped. Just a bit differently. 

And so did the people around him.

A few days after his talk with Roy, Jamie was confronted by a smiling Keeley bearing a colourful gift bag: a present of cool rings that had spinning bands and mini gears he could fidget with, for ‘no reason’ other than she’d been thinking of him.

He spotted Sam with a book on the bus after a match, the title confusing him until he looked it up later. And then it cropped up again and again: on the shelf of Isaac’s locker, in the passenger seat of Colin’s car, sticking out of Jan’s bag.

Higgins approached him with a quiet and pleasantly confident assurance that the club’s management would do everything in their power to ensure Jamie was granted approval to use any medications that became necessary to his wellbeing.

The coaching team gave him a (mildly offensive) signal to use when he needed a minute, either to stick in his airpods and tune out, or to shuffle down to the boot room and breathe. More often than not, Dani would be waiting for him afterwards, beaming and ready to provide physical contact or launch into a full discussion on any inane topic he could think of.

Everyone was careful not to get outwardly annoyed when he asked them to repeat themselves or if he lost track of time. They let him talk when he went on a tangent. They were quick to forgive when he interrupted them or spoke without thinking.

They were… brilliant. It was brilliant.

Jamie carried on his therapy and worked hard to manage his symptoms and learn new behaviours. Despite Higgins’ promises, he decided against trying any of the medications offered to him, too concerned about weight loss and what (to his mind) felt like an unfair advantage on the pitch.

Diet and exercise became about more than just his job, they were further tools he could use to keep in control. He felt calmer most days and when he didn’t, Roy was there with extra workouts and an open door if he just needed a safe space.

It wasn’t perfect, of course it wasn't. Jamie still fixated on it when he fucked up and acted impulsively, screwing over his team or friends. He still let people down sometimes and struggled to understand how or why. He still needed to be held accountable. Shame at not being better still occasionally reared its head.

But that was okay.

Jamie was coping. And he wasn’t alone.

[tomboy014]

I’m mostly going off of fanon when it comes to Constantine, so bear with me, but after all the times Constantine has complained to the JLA for dragging him into whatever problem they’ve managed to bumble into, Batman and Oracle have started looking for alternative occult and supernatural consultants, but it’s not like they can just look someone up in the phone book… right?

Except that’s exactly where Oracle finds Harry Dresden, Professional Wizard. 

There aren’t many records Oracle’s able to pull up, and what she does find is a mixed bag.  He’s got a fairly decent record working as a consultant with the Chicago PD, but he’s also worked with known criminal organizations.  There’s a pending lawsuit with TV studio over some wrecked equipment, good reviews from his former landlady, and a mix of dissatisfied and very satisfied customers, but it seems like, for the most part, he gets results. 

Plus, his rates are reasonable and he’s willing to travel; might as well bring him in on a trial run.

Nothing big at first.  Break up a new cult, disprove a haunting, all much smaller and easier than what he usually deals with back in Chicago.  He’s even managed to not burn down a building or two while he’s been here.  And while his methods can be… unorthodox, he can hold his own in a fight using both magical and mundane methods.  He’s a good detective and can work a crime scene.  He’s a hell of a lot more personable than Constantine.  Most importantly, he’s willing to teach.  Giant dork that he is, he’s eager to explain the magical theory behind his methods.

After a few months, Batman asks if Dresden is willing to be brought on full time, so to speak, and work his first “big” case.

“Only if you can provide a babysitter.” 

…What?

The Carpenter’s are on their family trip, and he doesn’t really have anyone else who can watch his kid.  He can only help if they can get him a babysitter.

Not what any of the Bats were expecting, but Batman can call in a “favor.”

Cue Dresden rolling up to Wayne Manor with little Maggie and her trusty sidekick, Mouse, in tow.

Alfred gets Maggie and Mouse settled in, and once she’s out of the room, Dresden turns to Bruce Wayne and casually asks if he gets to see the Batcave.

Dresden is aware he’s not always the brightest crayon in the toolshed, but he’s still a damn good detective, and he knows people.  It didn’t take him long to puzzle out that Bruce and the kids are vigilantes.  Bruce isn’t happy, but it does make things easier going forward.

Other than Tim, the Birds take to Dresden quickly.  He’s good with kids, never talking down to them, and is full of dorky movie and book references.  He can sling almost as much sass and sarcasm around as Steph.  Maggie is tiny and adorable and looks like a mini-Cass they can all coo over.  And Damian cannot get enough of Mouse who is just so large and fluffy and so much dog!  Tim doesn’t want Dresden to come anywhere near him; he shorts out every tablet and has to stay at least 20ft from the Bat Computer to keep it from shorting out.

So, Dresden finally works with the Justice League on some big, world-ending doomsday case, and yeah, this is unfortunately the speed he’s used to working at.  And, of course, a building burns down, but it was mostly not his fault!  But, everyone comes out more or less in one piece, the day is saved, and a bruised and beaten Dresden drags himself back to Wayne manor to recover before heading back to Chicago.

Just a normal day for Harry Dresden, professional wizard and supernatural consultant for the Justice League of America.

Still a much better deal than he’s used to getting.  The pay is good, and he doesn’t have to constantly watch his back against his own teammates.  Perk of working with superheroes; they’re generally good guys. 

But the biggest perks have been the positive effects on his daughter, Maggie.  It’s no Chez Carpenter, but the Manor and all the bat kids have a strong and warm family vibe of their own.  They’re (worryingly) good at helping talk her down from panic attacks and PTSD episodes.  They’ve got a lot of parenting advice to give, too.

And Maggie can finally get the therapy she needs from Black Canary without Dresden worrying about her being thrown into a loony bin for talking about the literal monsters she’ been exposed to.  Harry, too.

This is the best Harry and Maggie have been doing in a long time.

John Constantine, on the other hand, is getting worried.  The JLA have gone a suspiciously long time without getting themselves into trouble, and despite the way he acts, he does care in his own way, so he goes to check on them.  And who does he find they’ve invited into their house?  Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, apprentice of Justin DuMorne, son of Margaret LeFay, fiancé to Lara Raith of the White Court of Vampires, and the right-hand goon of the Dark Faerie Queen herself, Mab.  For Dresden, he can’t believe John Constantine, renegade warlock, necromance and black magic practitioner, just walked in.  He’s been on the Warden’s list for years. 

Both parties are trying to make their case about why they shouldn’t be using the other; they’re evil!  But the more Dresden and Constantine yell and argue with each other, the more they realize that they’re both working outside boundaries, but generally in the direction of good.  The two end up in positions that require them to work together, and it goes surprisingly well.  Their knowledge and experiences complement each other’s, and they make a well-oiled, if reluctant, duo.

[veeples]

writer interview

thanks for tagging me @narrativefoiltrope! <3 ik i don't really answer these ask/tag games v much anymore but i appreciate being tagged!

tagging: @lilas @bceky (teehee! i think it'd be fun if you answered on your game dev blog) and whoever wants to answer!

when did you start writing?

I definitely have clear memories of writing stories as early as 5th grade, so when I was like, 9-10 years old on an old Windows computer. And not too long after that, I started writing fanfiction for Inuyasha since I was obsessed as a kid.

I don't know if this counts, but in my professional job, I've been editing and sometimes writing policies for my lab for maybe four years now, but that's more technical writing than creative.

are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I end up reading a lot of what friends recommend to me, but what I read the most are sci-fi, speculative fiction, memoirs, and horror/thriller/mysteries! I'm open to quite a bit tbh and have more fun talking about shared reads than reading itself.

is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

LMAO nah, I haven't published fanfic in 2 years at this point so there's really no reason to compare me to anything at all. Professional I follow a template my co-worker made since I find the break down to be helpful for ease of use. I like authors who are really, really good with economy of language and pack a lot of punch with less words but I can't think of a good example right now.

can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

It's either my phone at 11 pm when I should be sleeping or my dinky lil Target desk! I use two screens at work so I can compare other policies or bring up websites for product information though, so that feels kinda fancy.

what’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

A lot like Erin I get inspired just chatting about OC head canons! Making up scenarios, usually in a jokey way, and wanting to explore it a little bit more in a drabble since I don't really do longform writing at all.

what’s your reason for writing?

For work it's just an extra project for me to have and do when I have free time, and I'm generally OK with it. It looks good on my yearly eval. Otherwise I just write as a hobby! Most of my writing I don't even share with other people </3. It's fun for me to do, I like my lil dolls and smacking them together. Art is harder and harder for me to do these days, so sometimes it's easier to just write a lil something when the need to create hits me.

is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

If I do share my writing w/ friends a good keysmash or emoji reaction makes my day! <3 Or I love when people point out particular lines they really enjoyed.

how do you want to be thought about by your readers?

For my work, I just want the policies to be comprehensible, easy to navigate, and a useful source of information. I write them with the intent that if I were to come into the lab as a new person, I could refer to the technical documents and know how to perform that particular bench work.

Otherwise: my readers are just my friends, if they're having fun than I am too! And if you hated it don't tell me :(

what do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Professionally I think I'm good at really getting down the nitty gritty details of how something is done. I know how I'd want it to read as someone who needs carefully detailed instructions, so I write for myself and I think it comes off as clear.

Creatively, I really don't know! I don't think I'm good at writing. Maybe my greatest strength is that I also don't give a fuck if I'm good or not??? If I'm not confident about it I'm just not sharing it lmao.

how do you feel about your own writing?

It's a creative outlet! I like getting to be indulgent, and I'm not as critical with my writing as I am with my art. :) I can be as experimental or serious as I want! But I also desperately want to delete old TWC fics/microfics that I posted on my main blog because I feel intense cringe at them at this point and don't want them to be seen anymore.