#so like. it’ll probably post by the time I graduate and take my gap year.
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Vent post below the cut about being aroace and amatanormativity. Yes I’m okay nothing happened im just mopey.
Thoughts I am having:
- I do not feel comfortable with the idea of me having a romantic partner
- I don’t even really enjoy the idea of just one best friend I’m dedicated to, like a QPP; I don’t think I have that attraction either
- I like my roommates well enough, but I won’t be in college here forever; I have grad school, and then internship, and then. Being a neuropsychologist. All of those things cannot be at my current college, because they aren’t taking students or employing people in that program.
- I was completely on my own in my current apartment for the first week and I didn’t like it. It was very lonely and I had a lot of anxiety about being alone if something bad happened. I don’t think I want to live alone in the future.
- I absolutely do NOT want to live at home if I can avoid it. I love my family very much but I would honestly rather be alone, with the loneliness and anxiety, than be at home 24/7.
- I also didn’t enjoy living with roommates I wasn’t close friends with. I got lucky in sophomore year that I made fast friends with my roommates, but freshman year sucked, not least because I felt alone even with two other people living in the same 2 bedroom dorm suite.
- It doesn’t help that I’m autistic and ADHD, which doesn’t make me the best roommate in general. I struggle to remember to clean up after myself, I don’t make new friends easily, executive function makes it hard to do chores around the apartment, and I’m not the greatest at communication. Heck, sometimes I just fully forget to shower for a week. I try my best to be a good roommate but like. I’m never not going to be disabled. I’m not going to magically be a great roommate to get people to like me more or to make friends faster.
- So then. I want to live with multiple friends of mine, who understand and accommodate my needs, without being romantically or queerplatonically attracted to any of them, just as roommates who enjoy each other’s company.
- How on earth is *that* gonna happen?
I know I’m borrowing trouble and that it’ll probably work out fine I just feel. Lonely. I’m aroace, and like. There’s no sexual or romantic or queerplatonic attraction at all. It’s just platonic. But to most other people, those other types of attraction matter a lot in who they live with or stay around. And I can’t provide any of that. Obviously amatanormativity is not accurate to human relationships and people can live together and just be good friends and nothing else, but like. Practically. I don’t really have any examples of that happening irl. And I just feel sad about it being a lot harder not to be alone.
#Tay don’t look#I really am okay I just feel sad#I’m probably just on my period and that’s why I’m emotional skdkgkgkkdjsjdj#anyway if u see this post and u are worried it is about you I promise it is not#I am not trying to vague anybody skdkfkdkjajfjf#just processing my feelings on tumblr.com#Letters to myself#<- so I can find this post later#and see what’s changed in the next couple of years#maybe I’ll queue this post seeing as my queue is broken and only posts 1 post a day#and it’s got almost 1000 posts in there#so like. it’ll probably post by the time I graduate and take my gap year.#and I’ll see what’s different then#hopefully it’ll be better
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ardor | darth maul
word count: 3.135k
warnings: age gap, cursing, professor/student relationship, sexual tension, mentions of sex, sexual innuendos
a/n: hello everyone! so this is the surprise i listed on my upcoming works list! i was just so excited to post this that i have been working on it constantly! this is a modern au involving professor!maul, set in coruscant. the reader is 21 in this fic. let me know if you want this to become a series or be added to the tag list! i hope you all enjoy :))
summary: as a junior enrolled at university of coruscant, you are striving to complete a minor in psychology. however, one class in particular intrigues you. will you be able to focus or let lust consume you?
pushing open the massive wooden doors, you grimaced at the vast amount of students already crammed in the seats. glancing at your phone, the time read 9:46 a.m. letting out a quiet sigh, you were fourteen minutes early and the lecture hall was almost to capacity. all of the seats on the edges were filled, and you grumbled under your breath. those damn freshman. always so early.
scanning the space, your eyes fell on an empty seat, near the front of the hall. strolling down the steps, you mumbled apologies as you shimmied into the empty seat, almost collapsing into the chair. rummaging in your bag, you fish out your laptop, powering it on.
once it’s whirred to life, you pull up your notes application, ensuring that you’re ready to take notes for the first lecture. the moment you were all set up, you ran a hand through your hair, noticing the togruta sitting to the right, as well as a mirialan to your left.
“w-was this seat reserved for someone?” you stammered, a blush spreading through your cheeks.
the togruta shook her head, “not at all! you see, that mirialan, she’s my best friend. we can’t sit by one another in class because we don’t pay attention. the seat is empty, we just wanted some space between each other.”
“oh okay,” you mumbled, relief rippling through you, “i wasn’t aware that everyone was going to be so early.”
“that’s freshman for ya,” the mirialan nudged you, giggling, “we just got here and the hall was practically full!”
“don’t scare our new friend off!” the togruta huffed, her bright blue eyes shining with amusement, “i’m ahsoka tano.”
ahsoka tano was a gorgeous creature, a descendant of the togruta species. her complexion was an orange hue, her head tails striped navy and white, with two montrals poking out. her face was wise, as if she had matured at a young age. the white markings on her forehead were breathtaking, trailing down onto her cheeks. ahsoka’s eyes were a bright, crystalline blue, shining with warmth and kindness.
you enjoyed that aspect about her already, as she was so friendly. she wore a plain navy blue tank top, which complemented her head tails, while donning a pair of grey joggers. her knee bounced, a fresh white pair of nike air maxes on her feet. you noticed the university logo stitched below a pocket, the curiosity within you rising by the second.
“do you play any sports?” you arched a brow, “i couldn’t help but notice the logo on your joggers.”
ahsoka’s eyes drifted towards the pocket, “oh yeah! i’m on the saber team.”
“you wield lightsabers?” a gasped tumbled from your lips, “that’s awesome!”
a blush spread through ahsoka’s cheeks, dusting them a light pink, “thank you, it took many years of practice and dedication. i was offered a full ride to come here, so i transferred here from theed university second semester my freshman year.”
“rumor has it that ahsoka’s undefeated,” the mirialan chirped, “good morning, i’m barriss offee.”
barriss was almost the opposite of ashoka, clad in a floral sundress, the pattern burstings with greens, yellows, and purples. it suited her light green complexion, along with her rich blue eyes. her eyes were darker than ahsoka’s, glimmering with intrigue as she gazed you. black diamonds stretched across the bridge of her nose, her lips coated with a black lipstick. tights covered her legs, a chunky pair of doc martens on her feet. a hijab wrapped around her head, the material an inky black silk. barriss was gorgeous, her aura radiating nothing but intelligence and compassion.
“well i’m (y/n) (y/l/n),” you couldn’t help but smile, “i’m a junior.”
you couldn’t help but feel an attraction towards the two girls, as if you were meant to find to them, to be their friends. already, the three of you were off to a great start. you were looking forward to spending the rest of class with them for the semester, even if you just met.
“what’s your major?” ahsoka inquired, “i’m a sophomore, looking to pursue an education major. i’m not quite sure what aspect of education, but i love kids.”
“that’s really cool!” you gushed, “how about you, barriss?”
“i’m a sophomore as well,” her tone was smooth, “i am looking to major somewhere in political science.”
“i’m going to major in health sciences,” you remarked, “but i plan on minoring in psych. i needed this class for a prerequisite for next semester. which is weird considering the course title, but i feel like it’ll be an interesting class.”
“i agree-” ahsoka began, but was cut off the sound of the door slamming.
the murmur of your fellow classmates fell as the professor entered the room, an aura of concentration settling over the lecture hall in a thick haze. you clicked on the mousepad of your laptop, ensuring that you were prepared for any note taking. absentmindedly, you typed in the date, as well as a title for the note section: first day of class.
“good morning class,” the professor rumbled, his voice clear as it rang through the space, “i am aware that this is a three hundred level course and we have a limited number of weeks to get through course material, but today there will be no lesson.”
“so much for opening my laptop,” you grumbled, earning a hushed giggle from ahsoka and barriss.
“today will be an overview of the syllabus, as well as some icebreakers,” the professor continued, a unanimous groan erupting from the class. the professor chuckled, “i know, we all hate standing up and stating five fun facts about ourselves. but, it helps me remember names. after all, there are about one hundred and fifty of you.”
your eyes drifted up from your laptop screen as you shut it, widening with shock as they fell on him.
your professor was a descent of the zabraki species, his ivory horns protruding from his skull. his face was absolutely gorgeous, jet black tattoos weaving an intricate pattern over his crimson skin. his jawline was strong, his incisors flashing as a wide smile enveloped his features. he was similar to barriss, an aura of wisdom and intelligence shrouding over him. if you had to guess, he was somewhat young, in his mid thirties or so. nonetheless, he had you in a daze, eagerly eating up every word that fell from his mouth.
the zabrak was clad in a black turtleneck, paired with a tweed jacket. the jacket was a beige hue, dark, chocolate brown slacks as his choice of pants. a thin silver chain hung around his neck, lying on his chest as he spoke. in the light, you caught a glimpse of a silver stud, pierced on the upper cartilage of his ear.
“gods, he’s hot,” you muttered, almost speechless.
“you can’t say that about our professor,” ahsoka teased under her breath, “he’s probably older than we think.”
“but he’s so attractive,” you breathed.
“we need to pay attention,” barriss hissed.
“shall i start with a brief introduction of myself, or should i begin with some review of the syllabus?” your professor placed his hands on hips, awaiting the class’ response.
“icebreakers!”
“i hate syllabus days!”
“the more time we take away from class, the better!”
the zabrak placed his hands out, chuckling, “all right, all right. the class has spoken. well, to start, i am professor maul. you can refer to me as professor or maul. my home resides in the psychology department, and i do find myself dabbling in philosophy or theology from time to time. i have two brothers. savage, the eldest is a geology professor here at university of coruscant, while feral, the youngest is a pastry chef deep in the city. perhaps if you guys are good, i can bring in his pastries sometime. if you have any questions for me, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
ahsoka’s hand shot up instantly, and professor maul nodded towards her, “yes, the togruta in the front.”
“how old are you sir?” her voice surged with confidence.
professor maul’s eyes narrowed playfully, “is that any question to ask a professor? since you were so bold, i will answer. i am thirty-one, nearing thirty-two by the second.”
“you’re old!” a voice called out.
“perhaps,” another chuckled tumbled from the professor’s lips, “i won’t hesitate to kick your ass in saber duel, though.”
“you were a saber wielder?” a classmate to below you, a twi’lek, blurted out.
“i was,” he responded curtly, “although i teach here, i am not an alumni. i attended mustafar central on a lightsaber scholarship many years ago. however, i didn’t go pro, i took the graduate school path. enough about me, let’s me hear about you guys. i would like your name, your intended major or career path, along with a brief fun fact about yourself. don’t think about it too hard, we don’t have too much time.”
with every word professor maul spoke, you found yourself hanging onto every single word. there was something about him, the way he spoke so eloquently, or the way his amber eyes glowed with authority, that sent butterflies flurrying in your stomach. he stood proud, his arms folded across his chest as your classmates introduced themselves. you swallowed thickly as you realized you were staring a little too long, a blush spreading through your cheeks as his eyes fell on you.
“it appears as if it’s your turn to introduce yourself,” his voice was so smooth, like honey, “how about you tell the class a little bit about yourself?”
you rose to your feet, anxiety swelling within you. clearing your throat, you began your spiel, “u-um, hello everyone. i am (y/n) (y/l/n). my major is health sciences, and i am unsure of the career path i want to take after i graduate. i guess a fun fact about myself is that i will be wrapping up my psychology major by the end of this year.”
intrigue flashed in the zabrak’s eyes momentarily, “ah, well, it is a pleasure to meet you, (y/n). never hesitate to reach out to me this year if you have any questions. who’s next?”
ahsoka stood from her chair beginning to speak. however, you couldn’t but notice his eyes on you, his lips pursed, a wistful daze painted across his face. you swallowed thickly, biting your lip, desperate to avoid his gaze. your cheeks burned, hot to the touch. gods, it was only the first day and you were already crushing your professor. a professor who was a decade older than you, nonetheless.
the class was an hour and twenty minutes long, the time eleven o’clock by the time everyone introduced each other. once the last person finished, professor maul strolled up to the rows of seating, a thick stack of papers in his grasp, “please, pass this around, and ensure that everyone gets a copy. this packet is your life for the next fifteen weeks! do not lose it!”
as the packets were passed around, the sound of paper rustling echoed through the lecture hall. drawing in a sigh, you mumbled a thank you to barriss as she handed you the syllabus. once it was in your hands, you scanned over the text, glancing over it hastily.
psych 315: monsters in modern society. the title of the course jumped out at you, a feeling of dread washing over you, threatening to steer your attention away from the syllabus.
how were you supposed to pay attention to lectures in class when you could barely keep your eyes off the professor?
****
“how was your first day of classes?” a familiar voice called into the den of your apartment.
“rex!” you gushed, sprinting into the den.
the blonde couldn’t help but grin as you wrapped your arms around him, “good evening to you too.”
“classes were boring,” you groaned, burying your head into his chest, “they’re not the same without my best friend.”
“my classes were just about the same,” rex chuckled softly, “what’d you make me for dinner?”
“there’s some spaghetti in the fridge,” you responded, still latched onto the blonde, “the garlic bread is in the oven, keeping warm.”
“perfect,” he placed a tender kiss on your forehead, “practice was horrible.”
you detached yourself from rex, arching a brow, “yeah?”
“i’ll tell you about it later,” he exhaled, “i need to cool off for a bit, shower, and eat.”
“if you say so,” you shrugged, “hey, i’m going to go to the gym for a while. i should be back by the time you’re working on homework.”
rex rolled his eyes, “if film counts as homework, sure.”
“just text me if you need anything,” you slung your gym bag over your shoulder.
“will do!” rex shouted as you opened the door, closing it.
rex was your best friend, a kind and pure soul. the two of you met your freshman year, during the first week orientation for all incoming newbies. since you were far from home, you were anxious, unsure if you were going to meet any new friends or establish connections. one night, while you ate alone in the dining hall, a platinum blonde approached you, asking if you had any company. from there, the rest was history.
the two of you were almost inseparable. since you had known rex for a couple years, it only made sense that the two of you shared an apartment your junior year. besides, your schedules didn’t clash too much, as rex was on an athletic scholarship with the university’s rugby team. meanwhile, you were involved with a few clubs here and there, preparing for an internship with the hospital on campus.
although you were in the pursuit of a health sciences major, you were unsure of which area you wanted to concentrate on. there were a variety options: dietitians, nutrition, nursing, radiology, athletic training, physical therapy, and so many more. however, you were set on graduating with a minor in psychology. which, you were on the right track. after your junior year, you would have that minor.
the internship with the hospital was to dip your feet into uncharted waters, where you would experience a little bit of everything. you would be a receptionist for a variety of departments, switching offices every month. the internship began within the week, and the excitement within you was growing by the day.
pushing open the doors to the recreational center, you chirped a greeting to the student employee at the desk, requesting a bottle of water. strolling towards the elevator, you pushed the button, aching to relieve the pent up stress.
it wasn’t like your first day of classes were horrible, you just knew you had a tumultuous year ahead of you. with eighteen credit hours, along with the internship, you were unsure how you were going to tackle it all. yet, you knew that you could manage it. you just had to trust yourself and go with the flow. everything happens for a reason was the mantra for the year.
as the doors slid open, you strolled towards the weight room, where all of the racks and machinery were located. since it was about nine o’clock, the rec center was shying closer to close, students making their way towards the elevator. you noticed ahsoka in the fieldhouse, practicing combat techniques with her team, the hum of lightsabers echoing off the walls.
however, as your hands rested on the handle of the door, your breath hitched in your throat. through the glass, you noticed a familiar face at the punching bags.
there stood professor maul, clobbering the bag with jabs and punches, his breathing ragged, coming out in light pants. curses rolled off his tongue, in a language you couldn’t quite decipher.
carefully, you slipped into the weight room, careful to avoid making any sort of interaction with the zabrak. after all, this was a facility meant for the students, faculty, and employees. it was for anyone’s use, but the fact that he was there, in the same space with you, had your heart thudding against your rib-cage, your mind buzzing.
sweat trickled down his skull, his back glittering in the light. with every single jab, his muscles rippled. scars plastered his shoulders and back, some deep, some faint. hesitantly, you clambered onto an elliptical, every fiber in your being screaming at you to look away. to stop staring. to stop admiring.
the zabrak paused, scooping his water bottle off the floor. as he chugged the water, you nearly choked as water dripped from his lips onto his neck, down his tattooed chest. not only was his face tattooed, but the ink was all over his beautiful body, weaving geometric patterns.
your cheeks reddened as you noticed the pair of black joggers hanging loosely on his hips, exposing his v-line. filthy, nasty, thoughts filled your mind, and you desperately shook them away. he was your professor. you weren’t supposed to see him like this.
“fancy seeing you here,” his voice was low, raspy, “isn’t it almost closing time?”
“i still have about an hour,” you mumbled, your cheeks burning, “i wasn’t aware that professors actually used this facility.”
“you’ve got some fire in you,” he chuckled, slipping on a plain black v-neck, “your name is (y/n), isn’t it? you’re in my level three hundred class.”
the sound of your name rolling off his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, “u-uh, yes. and you’re professor-”
“you can call me maul,” a smirk crept onto his lips, “no need for the formalities here.”
“okay,” you mumbled, flustered by his banter, “i didn’t know you were a boxer.”
his eyes flickered over you, maul licking his lips as you sat on the machine, your thighs full, “i am. it keeps me in shape. as much as i would love to stay and chat, my brother is finished with his work for the night. i have to go meet up with him.”
“you two carpool?” you felt a giggle bubble up.
“unfortunately,” maul scoffed, rolling his eyes, “i have been having some car issues lately. hopefully i’ll be able to drive myself soon.”
“well goodnight,” you beamed, “i hope that your night isn’t too horrid.”
“if i have to hear one more word about geology, i just might throw myself out the car,” maul chuckled, his eyes shining, “goodnight (y/n).”
“goodnight maul,” your voice was low, the words almost a whisper.
the zabrak strolled towards the door, pulling it open. however, he paused, turning to face you, amusement glittering in his amber depths, a playful grin stretched across his features.
“by the way (y/n), you could be a little more subtle about your wandering eyes.”
***********************
tagged: @sapphicstars , @maulieber , @starflyer-104 , @alwayshappysith , @doobiwankenooku
#darth maul#star wars#the clone wars#darth maul x reader#star wars x reader#modern au#darth maul smut#maul
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rules :)
Keep in mind:
This blog is primarily NSFW. Do not read or engage with my smut posts if you’re under 18. I will block you immediately. Please don’t spread my stuff on platforms filled with minors either, like wattpad and tiktok.
I put a lot of effort and revision into my posts, so if you send something in, please be patient.
All characters I write are strictly 18+, either through canonical timeskips or au’s.
Also note that I write primarily dom!reader content. I don’t change that up very often.
What I WILL write:
- All gendered / bodied readers. My default writing pronouns are they/them, but if I switch it up I make sure that’s clear at the beginning. I can and will write AMAB readers though it’s less common. If you want that send in requests!
- BDSM and kink. I consider myself educated in both topics and believe I can handle it well. There are some kinks I will not write, so please check the next category before submitting.
- Multiple people. Honestly there is no maximum. Keep in mind, however, that the more people there are, the longer it’ll take me to write.
- Power dynamics, i.e. age gaps, boss/subordinate, teacher/student, etc. HOWEVER, in these instances I will do it as ethically as possible. I won’t write age gaps with, say, a graduating high school student and a 40 year old man. That’s still icky, even if it’s legal.
- Consensual non-consent. This falls under the kink category, but this is a topic that deserves emphasis. I have an entire post talking about this here. Please give that a read and I am always willing to answer more specific questions :)
What I WON’T write:
- Dark content, such as genuine non-con, incest, etc. (though i technically have no rules against dark content creators or consumers interacting with me, i don’t want it in my inbox)
- Drastic personality changes. I try to stick as firmly to the canonical characters or my personal interpretation of the characters as I can.
- Anything related to pregnancy or kids. Sorry babies I do not want them and it makes me profoundly uncomfortable. (I will write breeding kinks within reason, but I will not relate them to pregnancy.)
- Omegaverse. You do you, bro, I just have no idea how to write it.
- Kinks that I will not write include:
~ DDLG
~ Daddy kinks
~ Pet Play (I will use words like “puppy” as terms of endearment, but those are not related to pet play. They’re just nicknames.)
my favorite characters to write (in no particular order):
aran
tsukishima
ushijima
kita
goshiki
akiteru (specifically w a mommy kink lmao)
aone
characters I won’t write:
if you request suna i will write for aran instead.
asahi and hoshiumi. i’m so sorry guys they’re like the only characters i’m not attracted to so i would have a hard time writing them.
nishinoya. i love the guy but i don’t think i could write him well.
frequently used tags:
#meg’s thoughts - just me rambling
#✌️..tag games🧍🏼♂️
#🤙..ask games
#🌼..conversations w meg - talking about a character or show. not explicit or suggestive.
#💌..h word w meg - not a full blown fic or drabble, but me and an anon being horny on main
#🛎..meg’s rb
#meg does a meme - me making memes for my own enjoyment and probably not yours lmao
#⏰..meg’s queue
#🍄..self rb
#emoji..name - mutuals or frequent messages
i also have named anons now!
i do not know how it works but here’s what’s taken:
- 🚾 anon
-💟 anon
- fay :)
- 🖤 anon (formally 🪱 anon)
- 🌸 anon
- 🌴 anon
- 👾..tendou
- 🥨 anon
- 🪴..syd
- 🦈 anon
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Frosted Glass: Part 1
Description: Yoongi is in love with the princess of another land, and he’s given the opportunity to court her, with the help of his brothers. You are the princess of the country south of the frozen kingdom, but you’ve gotten a deadly disease and your only home is to venture and live in the icy north. Will Yoongi be able to win your hand with the help of his brothers?
Warnings: N/A
Posted: 01/25/2020
Tags: Yoongi x reader, Prince!Yoong, Prince!Jaebum, Prince!Yesung, Prince!Yeonjun, Prince!Hwall, Frost Prince, Jack Frost! Yoongi
?: 1,255 words
A/N: I’ve been working on this for a while, I really hope you guys like it. It’s going to be alternating views for each part. This part is Yoongi, next is Y/n. I chose guys from other bands to be his brothers, and I chose people I thought looked at least a little like they were related. I really hope you guys like it, idk if I could stand this being a flop.
Yoongi drew designs on the window panes, knowing that in just a little while she would wake up and rush to see what he had drawn before the sun came and destroyed the delicate designs that she loved. He loved this time of year, especially in this part of the kingdom. His secret morning conversations with the princess.
Her face appeared on the other side of the glass, looking tired. Pale.
She visibly sighed, looking over the incomplete design that he didn’t dare finish now that she was awake earlier than normal. She had bags under her eyes, and her nose was red. Her hair a mess around her shoulders instead of the loose braid she normally wore. She also held a blanket around her shoulders like a cape.
He frowned a bit, able to see that she was sick, and wishing he could fix it. But he couldn’t.
She touched the pane, making a clear spot in the middle of some of the thicker frost.
Yoongi almost pressed his own hand to the glass as her body was wracked with coughs that he could hear through the glass, so intense that she was crouched on the floor gasping for breath.
Maids came rushing in, some helping her up and back to the bed while another snapped the heavy curtains shut, shutting Yoongi off from the princess he had grown up with.
He floated to the ground, frowning at the grass as he walked toward the forest.
“Winter can’t come fast enough,” One of the gardeners was saying as they group headed toward the orchard. “I heard the princess caught that illness, the one that witch created. Only extreme cold has been able to stop it.
Yoongi winced as they walked through him, looking after them as the two that walked through him shivered.
“Well, looks like the frost-man has been here. Might get that cold sooner rather than later this year. Otherwise someone might have to take the princess to Old Man Winter, and she’d never come back from that. Everyone knows he’s trying to find princesses for the Frost Princes.”
“Really? Well, they’re the closest kingdom anyway. The others are a couple days sailing after a two week trek through Bomnal Pass, which is in the snow kingdom anyway. Be nice to have a sort of alliance with them. Might make traveling through easier.”
“But, they’re not exactly human, are they?”
“Not our problem. The Princess will die otherwise. She’s the youngest daughter anyway. It’s probably the best she could do.”
Yoongi had heard enough, taking to the air and heading back to the castle.
His older brother, Yesung, was waiting on the balcony to Yoongi’s room.
Yoongi touched down and knew he was in for a talking to.
But Yesung didn’t say a word, looking out at their world, glistening in frost.
“Hyung?” Yoongi asked, a little nervous.
“Hiding,” He explained. “Delegation from the Desert Isles.”
Yoongi shuddered. “Where’s Jaebum and Yeonjun?”
Yesung flipped up a sheet of ice, then flicked it away to shatter on the ground below. “On their way. Where have you been?”
“Our neighbor’s kingdom. It’s frost season there.”
“You went and saw her again, didn’t you?” Yesung sighed, shaking his head.
“Hyung,” Yoongi started, hearing how small his voice had gotten. “She has the summer sickness.”
Yesung looked at him, standing up straight and turning to lean against the rail instead. “That’s the one where they die without cold?”
Yoongi nodded.
Jaebum and Yeonjun came into Yoongi’s room without knocking, both looking slightly terrified.
“They had to go to the hearth-room, and the prince was throwing a fit,” Yeonjun explained, looking apologetic. “But I got a letter from Hyunjoon. He’s going to be home next week for break, then go back to finish, then be home for winter solstice.”
“Good, it’s about time he came home.” Jaebum came out and leaned on the balcony looking out. “Feels warmer today.”
Yoongi wasn’t sure, but he had just come from a warmer place entirely. “Hwall say anything about how he was doing at the academy?”
“Father told us he was graduating at breakfast,” Yesung informed him, a hint of reproach in his voice. “Jaebum covered for you. Again.”
Yoongi nodded, meeting Jaebum’s gaze and dipping his head in thanks to his younger brother.
Yeonjun was still smiling. “How is the southern kingdom?”
“The princess has Yeolbing Fever,” Yesung said dryly. “Which means it’s only a matter of time before we either have to pay our respects, or we’ll be welcoming them to our kingdom. And then one of you will be marrying her. Father will be pleased if that does happen. Might send an invitation beforehand.”
“What about you?” Yeonjun asked.
Yesung looked at Yeonjun, then met Yoongi’s gaze. “The King of Godeuleum is to marry a princess of the Ice Mountains. My mother was an Ice Princess. My wife will be as well.” Yesung didn’t look at them as he said that.
Yeonjun’s gaze fell.
Yoongi knew his oldest brother meant nothing by it, just pointing out the tradition of the kingdom. But it was another reminder that Yoongi and his three younger brothers were all born from a woman that the kingdom didn’t see as a proper queen. They were respected, but it was very clear that Yesung was the crown prince. The younger brothers would earn respect by doing things that would make the kingdom prosper. The age gap was the biggest issue between the brothers. And Yoongi had taken the brunt of any sort of backlash from the citizens of their kingdom, carefully protecting his younger brothers however he could.
“Then maybe we should propose inviting the princess for that intent to father. He would like our initiative.” Jaebum let a hand drop on Yeonjun’s shoulder.
“He would question where we got the information,” Yesung countered stoically.
“Then we don’t tell him about her being ill, we just suggest that there could be a benefit in making an alliance with the only country we share a border with,” Yoongi proposed. “If I’m right, then by the time our message arrives at their castle by traditional courier—which father prefers—they’ll be desperate to cure her. She’s the third princess of the kingdom and sixth in line for the throne. An alliance with our kingdom would be to their advantage.”
“You cannot propose it, he’ll know where you’ve been,” Yesung said, shrugging a little.
“He knows I’m studying geography, I could ask him about her kingdom,” Yeonjun offered, glancing toward Yesung for approval.
“Or Jaebum could suggest it since he’s been reviewing our current treaties and past alliances,” Yoongi suggested instead. “Father would know we were planning this if you brought it up suddenly.”
Jaebum nodded. “I’ll do it. It’ll be natural since we know that Hyunjoon is coming home after the winter-solstice, and that maybe makes us think that we should start thinking about marriage. He will have a problem with you not being married first, though, Yesung-hyung.”
He nodded curtly. “Give me a week. I’ll head up the Ice Mountains.”
Yoongi felt a little bit of relief and excitement. “Thank you, hyung.”
His older brother shook his head. “Don’t thank me yet. She has to survive to get here. And who knows who she’ll end up with.”
Yoongi dipped his head as his brother passed, exiting his room, but he felt a strange sort of happiness. He had an advantage. Y/n was one of his oldest friends, after all.
--
Next Part
Masterlist. Yoongi Masterpost.
Tagging: @alex--awesome--22 @bryvada @missmoxxiesworld @knjhe
#frost prince!yoongi#Jack Frost!Yoongi#jack frost au#yoongi x reader#suga x reader#reader x yoongi#prince!yoongi#min yoongi#bts fic#bts x reader#Im Jaebum#prince!jaebum#yesung#kim jongwoon#prince!yesung#prince!au#royalty au#choi yeonjun#prince!yeonjun#hwall#prince!hwall#princess!reader#frosted glass fic#Fairy Tale Story
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The More You Know About Someone
Bloodbound/Adrian Raines x MC + friendship
Summary: Adrian and Lily help Buffy feel closer to her heritage.
Author’s Note: I hope that this gets some notes lol. I wasn’t sure how to feel about my last Bloodbound story, so I hope that this gets a little better. For day 29 of the 41 Days of Cheer Challenge, Far Away. There is a little Harry Potter character shout out, I hope someone notices. Enjoy!
Adrian Raines finished up his business and then down the calendar for his next task that he would have to set aside. Right now, he was ready to clock out and make his way down the block and into the night. Today was a rather special day as he just chuckled at the next order of business. In bright red for his plans was the words bowling in all capital letters.
There was a knock at the door as a face peered into the room. His ‘assistant’ if he should really call her that, had peered into the room.
“Adrian, it’s time to meet up with everyone else,” said Buffy as she set aside a clipboard. “I have the present you ordered already sent to the alley. Business letters have already been sent out and an interview with Ana de Luca.”
She looked pretty proud of herself as she tossed her dark auburn curls over her shoulder. Then smiled at him before stepping into his office.
“And I might have something for you to wear that’s a little more, well, not suit like,” she said producing a bag from behind the door.
A bit amused he looked to see a clean and pressed pair of jeans. Then a simple white polo shirt. It was still classic but not overtly so. Grinning at her he took the clothes to turn to change. Buffy just watching him if a bit shyly but still bold enough to look.
His eyes settled on her as she was already dressed and ready to go herself.
“Are we bringing Lily in?” asked Adrian and fixed his outfit. “She is who we are trying to surprise after all.”
“I just hope that she kind of forgets that it’s her birthday since she’s been so busy. I think I might be wrong though,” she said looking at her phone and showed him her post. It included many many emoji’s that included party hats. “I think we’ll have to tell her so she can at least act surprised.”
He just chuckled and nodded before giving her a quick peck on the lips. She had just closed her eyes and pressed hers a bit harder wrapping her arms around him. A bit eager he thought before wrapping one arm around her waist. Then the other around her bum lifting her onto the desk.
“Too bad it isn’t my birthday,” she teased. “Let’s just get Lily down to the bowling alley for her birthday before we go over the top.”
Nodding he straightened out his shirt and tugged her top to cover her butt. She just laughed before heading down to the lobby. Lily had looped her arms through Buffy’s arm and headed out.
“So, for my birthday, what do you think about take out and a light-hearted comedy?” she asked. “After all we went through, we just might need it. Unless of course, I’m always up for a Xenia marathon.”
Adrian shared a look with Buffy as she just shrugged. At least she had no idea about the party that they had planned. Flashy bowling balls and all. They had to take the long way around as Buffy had formulated some kind of plan.
“Hey, I heard of this bar and bowling alley that’s not too far away. Want to check it out?” asked Buffy
“Oh my gosh yes, plenty of shots to go around!” she said fist bumping and turned the corner. Well it was glad to see that Lily was going to enjoy herself.
Adrian had taken Buffy’s hand and squeezed it gently as she just bumped into him softly. They were definitely going to have to sneak out a bit later. They had passed by several colorful store fronts and an empty construction lot. He bit his bottom lip and contemplated on stopping to keep Lily from getting there too soon.
“Hmm,” said Buffy breathing in a smell of something.
She had stopped to investigate a store front as he stopped with her and Lily. Buffy had stared long and hard at the window with a small sweet smile on her face.
“Buffy?” asked Adrian as Lily stopped to stare as well.
“Wow those look amazing,” she said. “What are those?”
“Yakgwa,” said Buffy pointing to something that looked like salted caramel, but probably wasn’t. Then to something else that was in fun shapes. “Dalgona.”
Adrian stepped back and looked up at the front. Judging from what he knew that this was a Korean Bakery. Buffy had stopped with a sad smile on her face but still a smile. He just squeezed her hand once more to tell him what was wrong.
“How did you know that?” asked Lily.
“Right, it never came up,” she said looking at them. “I’m kind of a quarter Korean? My grandfather had escaped Korea back when there was war in the country. He started out in San Francisco before making his way to Missouri with my grandmother. My mom’s maiden name is Chang if that helps at all. Grandpa used to teach me all kinds of stuff about my heritage growing up. We used to make Dalgona together.”
He just smiled thinking about a young Buffy spending time with her grandfather in the kitchen. Baking up sweets after coming home from a long day at school. He had only known her for about a year and a half or so now? There was still so much that they had to learn about each other.
“I can picture you being the type to sneak sweets here and there,” he said. “I guess you were close?”
“Very,” she said touching. “He lived long enough to see me graduate high school.”
“Aww,” said Lily. “Let’s go in and get some. It won’t be like your grandpa’s but I bet it’ll be good. We don’t have anywhere else to be right now anyway?”
Adrian just looked at Buffy raising his eyebrows at her. She just pretended to think about it before pulling the door open. Together they had entered the shop a woman sweeping up for the night and a few customers still lingering around.
“I like learning more about you like this,” said Adrian to Buffy once they were away from Lily and she had a tried a free sample. “It’s like unwrapping a present with a new surprise on the inside.”
“And I think you might have stolen that line from Full House,” she teased as he just looked at her a bit puzzled, that sounded a little familiar to him. “Never mind.” She had pulled him into a kiss as he could taste something sweet on her lips. He didn’t know what it was, but it tasted nice.
“Now I still have to know, how did you end up with this gorgeous shade of red hair?” he asked grinning at her. “I feel as if we’re flirting more then usual.”
“It’s because we are, things have finally settled down after what happened. Everything is back to normal and we’re in a relationship. It’s what couples do,” she said bouncing a little on her feet. “The red hair because my dad has red hair.”
She tossed her auburn locks once more to show off the vividness of it.
“I will never apologize for being a redhead,” she said smirking some. “I represent two percent of the population.”
He just chuckled and looked around at the sweets. It was sold by the pound as he found a bag and started to fill it. Buffy filling in the gaps of what would good ones to get. Their bag being filled with treats and goodies.
“Wow, Buffy I’m glad you found this place,” said Lily with a bag of her own. “I swear we will probably spend a lot of time here.”
Adrian’s phone pigged as it was Kamilah telling them to keep Lily away for an extra twenty minutes or so. Apparently, they were having some electrical problems and would be fixed by around nine. He checked the time to see it was only seven. Good thing day light saving’s time was being observed as it wouldn’t be out and about otherwise.
“I have an idea,” he said. “Let’s go to that Korean restaurant down the street. After all we do have a translator now.”
Buffy looked at him a bit confused and he just forwarded Kamilah’s text to her phone. He watched her face as she skimmed over it and nodded.
“Hey what makes you think that I can speak it,” she said as they paid for their snacks. Well the party will have some extra food there.
“Can you?” asked Lily slightly impressed. “I mean the closest to me speaking it, is that I once saw a show where a nun has to pretend to be her twin brother and join a boy band. He has to recover from a botched plastic surgery job.”
Buffy just laughed and nodded. “That show is called You’re Beautiful by the way. Yes I can actually speak it.”
With that she said something that he could barely keep up with. Okay now Adrian really couldn’t help but laugh a little as he pulled her into a hug. Buffy was just wonderful and glad to be part of her life. Lily just smiled and watched them a bit amused but pleased with herself to learn that show.
Together the three made their way down to the restaurant and ordered something for a light take out.
“So why don’t’ you tell us something about you?” asked Buffy. “I mean there’s still plenty I don’t know about the illustrious Adrian Raines.”
“I don’t know about illustrious,” he said before thinking about something. “I speak French fluently and I’ve…” He paused to think of something that would make her laugh. “I’ve taken a nap once in every state in the United States.”
Lily snorted and Buffy just laughed.
“I like learning more about you Buffy,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been this close with someone.” He brushed a hair from her face and looked down at his phone with a text from Kamilah to start heading over. They had fixed whatever the issue was early enough.
“Well thank you guys,” she said looking at them. “I never felt so far away from my grandfather before. Part of my heritage that I’ve loved being apart of with him.”
“I hope we don’t make you feel that far away again,” said Adrian kissing her forehead softly.
“And talk about it with me all the time,” gushed Lily pulling her friend into a hug. Adrian had made a show of looking at his phone and then at the girls.
“Now let’s head to this bar bowling alley. It sounds like your kind of scene Lily.”
She just got excited and started to run ahead before following right behind with their stuff. Buffy and Adrian exchanging a smirk of their own. Not only did he get a chance to learn more about her. He also got a chance to throw a nice surprise party in the end.
Tag list: @flyawayboo @am-i-invisible777 @adrianadmirer @fluffy-cat-whisper @melodyofgraves @paisleylovergirl @elainew13 @itsbrindleybinch @brightpinkpeppercorn @darley1101 @mfackenthal @jlpplays1 @writerapprentice @wildsayeed @princess-geek @perriewinklenerdie @lilyofchoices @radlovedreamer @symonde @indescribablechoices
#adrian x mc#adrian raines#choices adrian#choices: adrian#mc: Buffy Steventon#bb mc#choices bb#choices: bb#bloodbound#choices: bloodbound#choices bloodbound#choices#playchoices#choices stories you play#choices: stories you play#playchoices fanfiction#choices fanfiction#choices fanfic archive#41daysofcheer#41daysofcheerchallenge
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Driving round the world in an old van? You’re crazy!
Living in unknown places in a confined space and with little money is a dream for some and a nightmare for others. As I prepare to embark on a two-year overland adventure, I reflect on the plan for our trip and my motivations behind it.
WHAT So. What’s the plan?
In short, we’d like to end up in Chile, having driven eastwards from England to get there. I know, it’s a mammoth task, but for my partner George and I, it’s about the process of getting there (or attempting to!), and not the final destination. So we thought we’d set our sights on something totally aspirational and see how far we get!
Step one is to prepare the vehicle. We’ve always known we wanted to do the trip overland, seeing all the borders and in-between-places rather than just hotspots and capital cities (as you’d usually experience on a trip reliant on flying). We also knew we wanted a van that would serve as our home, to find comfort and constancy in as our surroundings change.
Step two is doing the travelling itself. Starting in the UK, our provisional route will see us moving through the south of Europe, down into Greece and Turkey, then eastwards into India. From there, we’ll go across into China or down into South-east Asia. At that point, assuming the van is still intact and the numbers stack up, we’ll ship the vehicle across into Canada - a considerable journey but one which other overland adventurers have proved is possible. And then from Canada, we’ll head south, down through the United States and Central America, across the Darién Gap, and eventually, down into Chile.
We know, it’s crazy. And possibly not possible. (But that’s sort of the point!)
Step three, as if we don’t already have enough on our plate, is to launch a documentary channel along the way. Rather than just share the same old #VanLife photos of dreamy sunsets and coffee in the van (which I’m sure we’ll do some of!), our channel, called Broaden, will document the stories, people and places we find along the way, in what we hope is a meaningful and engaging way.
(image) Broaden will be our storytelling platform
WHEN When was this wild idea born?
It all begins with eighteen year-old George. Inspired by Ewan McGregor’s motorcycle travels in ‘The Long Way Round’, George decided he wanted to undertake his own epic adventure - from the northernmost part of Scotland to the southernmost part of Chile. But why Chile? Well, George’s best friend is half-Chilean (they later travelled to Chile together in their early twenties), and I think the extreme distance of this trip appealed to George; this idea of going from two polar opposite places, north and south.
As with many wild dreams, George slowly let go of his Scotland to Chile idea. Life got in the way, but his passion for mechanics and do-it-yourself projects didn’t. He’s a real self-starter and the subsequent years saw him open his own recording studio and then teach himself video production, making films for a living both in the UK and Australia. Not long after I met George in the summer of 2014 at Spanish music festival, he told me about his overland pipe-dream.
The audacity of the idea, the sheer insanity of driving that far, living on the road and making do with very little somehow made a lasting impact on me.
As an architecture graduate, I’m interested in problem-solving. Even though my career path took me away from architecture specifically, I still love strategising, designing things and finding ways to make projects work. And the idea of building our own van to drive around the world seemed like the ultimate design and project management challenge!
(image) The early days: George and I working together at a festival, Summer 2015
George and I started dating, and moved to Australia. Gradually, we re-ignited George’s idea about driving to drive to Chile. It started as a ‘one-day’ idea that we’d talk about, and gradually became a tangible plan that we could aim towards - saving money up for it and setting milestones. Once we’d told other people we were going to do it, we knew were accountable and it all suddenly felt real.
And so a date was set to move back from Australia to the UK to buy a van and start the trip - April 2019. Since then we’ve been heads-down and knee-deep in van-building (more info on that in a later blog post).
WHO So who’s going to be part of the adventure?
It goes without saying that I’m mainly embarking on this with George - I hope we get along because we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other! Really though, I’m pretty sure we’ll be just fine in each other’s company, considering we’ve forged on through the van-building process together. In fact, these last few intense months have surely made us stronger, and proved our compatibility (or maybe just our mutual stubbornness!).
What I lack, George makes up for with his ‘we can fix this’ attitude, his mechanical-mindedness and his courage to tackle the big scary things head on. And what he lacks, I make up for with my love of planning (a.k.a. list-making), my upholstery skills and my interest in interior design.
(image) Building cabinetry for the inside of Suzi
But really, part of the very raison d’etre of the trip is to meet OTHERS! Having four seats in the van was always a big priority for us, so that we could pick people up along the way, sharing the experience and splitting fuel costs. These people may be strangers we meet en-route, or perhaps even friends who come along to visit us. There will be nothing quite like the sight of a Brit or Australian we know and love so dearly catching up with us in some far-flung place!
There is a considerable #VanLife community across the globe, so we’ll likely meet up with and travel with ‘vanlifers’ too (I’m still coming to terms with that word, feels so super-cheesy). It’ll give me a chance to snoop on other people’s van interiors and get top tips on places to visit, things to do, and hopefully some hidden campout spots.
HOW But how will you survive?!
Firstly, there is so much planning we could’ve, should’ve, but haven’t done. I know part of this ‘travel round the world’ plan probably comes over as very naive, and I’m not even going to say it’s not. BUT, there is also a lot of planning and prep that we have done, and there’s no better way to find out where the gaps are than just set off and start living it.
One of the biggest hurdles to living on the road will be financing it.
Living in Australia was really the first thing that made this trip feasible. Wages are considerably higher over there and, although it is tempered by the extortionate cost of living, George and I were still able to put some savings aside. Month-by-month we saved what most sensible people would tell you to use for a deposit on ‘that first flat’, but what we decided to put towards a van.
Needless to say, the van cost more than we expected to build and kit out (a lot more). So we’re not necessarily starting with as much of a financial safety-net as we would have liked. But our van overspend and tighter budget was probably to be expected, and it will surely force us to innovate.
Having both worked in design, George and I are familiar with freelancing. We plan on building our portfolios on the road, whether that be shooting and editing videos, doing graphic design, writing articles, or making collages. Our channel ‘Broaden’ will serve as a ‘production-house-on-wheels’, and we imagine video production to be our main income stream, through both YouTube and traditional commissions. We’re also exploring subscription content services like Patreon, where subscribers can back the films that we make in exchange for exclusive content. Whilst planning to get paid for making the videos/photos/art that we love making feels like a leap of faith, we take comfort in the fact that so many other inspiring people out there are making this model work and proving that you can fund life on the road!
Of course, for all the pennies that we earn, we’ll be saving those pennies at every possible opportunity. This’ll mean camping freely, conserving gas and fuel, generating solar power, eating locally and living frugally.
(image) Suzi, our 1994 Toyota Hiace
WHY Okay. But why on earth would you undertake this whole project?
This is the most important question of all, and also the hardest question to answer (hence why I’ve left it until last!). I can thank my dear friend Chris for inspiring me to write this blog post, as he asked me this very question in a recent letter he wrote to me: “but why are you actually doing all of this, Bryony?”. Whilst his letter left me frustrated that I couldn’t answer it immediately, I was so grateful for the challenge to think long and hard about the motivation behind our plans.
Simply put, the reason why is: Why not? In true ‘YOLO’ spirit, I can honestly say I haven’t got a good enough reason not to want to go and explore different parts of the world.
To add to that, there’s a practical side of things. If we’re going to do something like living and travelling in a van at some point in our lives, it seems like the ‘right’ time - we’ve got no children, we are miles away from even contemplating a mortgage, we’re not deep into careers, and we’re in good health. Doing something like this is also bound to give us heaps of life experience which will no doubt add value to other parts of our life, like problem-solving, collaborating (and persevering!) with each other, engaging with different people and cultures, being outside of our comfort zones and perhaps even finding a place where we’d eventually like to live.
Whilst all of the above are valid reasons to be setting off into the unknown in a 1994 Japanese van, I think there are other, more intrinsic reasons that I’m embarking on such a massive project. And it’s so hard to put my finger on what those reasons are, because they’re so deep down (and have, until recently, been buried by the everyday frustrations of building the van itself), but I’ve tried to dig them up from inside of me and put them into words:
1. The bigger the project you attempt, the greater the sense of achievement when you succeed.
I think that’s why this project is about proving something to myself (and perhaps others). Whether that is healthy, I’m not entirely sure, but I can see that I’ve set myself a goal that is far bigger than any of the ones I’ve ever set before, and I want to prove that it’s possible.
2. Living and travelling in a van also reduces life to something very fundamental.
By being so far removed from the comfort zone of a stable city, house and job, the very act of surviving each day will be a cause for celebration. The ‘mental clutter’ of social pressures, disposable income, hobbies, norms and status will go completely out of the window, and be replaced by primitive needs and desires like finding somewhere to park up at night and making sure we have water to drink and gas to cook with.
3. Taking ourselves on this journey maximises the opportunity for revelatory moments.
This last point is the crux of it all for me. I’ve come to realise that when the stakes are so high, and when you live a life centred on fundamental daily needs, the potential joy you receive is unlike any other. And although I am sharing this journey with George, I can already say that I’ve had some of these moments of deep internal joy in a very personal way. I feel immense gratitude and appreciation for the experience so far and the lessons I’ve learnt both about myself and the world around me. That’s not to say I haven't felt pain, anger, frustration and helplessness too but, along with the ‘revelatory moments’, they have put colour into my life and given me perspective about what really matters. And what are life’s highs if you they aren’t seen in light of the lows?
So yeah, it is all a bit of a crazy plan. To drive to Chile in a van together with your boyfriend, picking up people along the way, making films and living frugally is definitely not everyone’s cup of tea. But it is for me.
It’s a chance to set the stakes high, live life fundamentally, and hopefully experience moments of joy along the way.
#traveldiaries#SuziTheVan#ToyotaHiace#overlandadventures#digitalnomads#quarterlifecrisis#BryonyandGeorge#vanlife#revelatorymoments#consciousliving
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Summary: Lily Evans thought her life would be normal. Well, as normal as it can be for a muggle-born witch in England. But when her boyfriend turns out to be the prince of the wizarding world, and tensions begin to rise among factions of wizarding society, Lily must find her way in situations she never anticipated, and try not to lose sight of her identity. Word Count: 4,241 (32,215) Links: ao3 | FFnet | Tumblr: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7
A/N: Hello friends! Happy September, and I hope you're all cozied up on the Hogwarts Express with some chocolate frogs and good company. Or failing that, I hope you're snuggled up on the couch watching a Harry Potter marathon (like me). I know it's been a while since I've posted, if you've followed me for a while, you know I'm not very good at sticking to a posting schedule. But I have a new chapter now and I'm excited to keep working on this story! So without further ado, here's the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy it!
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Chapter 8
About a week after graduation, Lily, Mary, Alice and Fabian received four identical scrolls of parchment from a brown barn owl. They were held together with loops of white ribbon, and Lily could sense some kind of magic running through it, probably to prevent anyone but the addressee from opening the letter. Lily slipped her finger under the ribbon and snapped it off, unfurling the loop of parchment.
Miss Evans,
I would like to invite you to join an organization that I am developing in order to fight Voldemort and his followers. At the moment, its existence is covert, so silence on the matter is paramount. If you are interested, please attend an explanatory meeting on Tuesday night at 9pm at the address below.
12 Victoria Rd
Southend-on-Sea
I hope to see you there.
Albus Dumbledore
Lily let out a long breath. This was what she’d been waiting for - some way to fight against what was happening. Obviously her roommates had all received an invitation, but Lily wondered who else was a part of the squad. Mostly, she wondered if James would have gotten a similar scroll. Surely Dumbledore would know all about the constraints that his position placed on him, and yet Lily knew without a doubt that James wanted to fight, and he would be one hell of an ally.
A knock sounded on Lily’s bedroom door, and she looked up to find Mary peering through a small gap.
“Come on in,” Lily invited, and Mary smiled as she pushed the door fully open and crossed the room to join Lily on the bed.
“So did you get one of these letters too?” Mary asked, though she could see the parchment unfurled across Lily’s duvet.
“Yeah.”
“Are you gonna do it?” Mary inquired.
“I think so,” Lily said, her brows furrowing slightly as she considered the question. “I don’t think I can just stand by and do nothing in all of this. I need to be useful.”
Mary said nothing, her blue eyes fixed on an arbitrary spot on the wall.
“What are you going to do?” Lily asked.
“I don’t know,” Mary admitted, worrying her lower lip as she tried to avoid meeting Lily’s eyes.
“It’s okay if you’re scared,” Lily assured her, leaning forward and resting one hand on her friend’s knee. “And I promise that no one will think any less of you if you decide not to do this. But you should know that you won’t be any safer because of it. You’ll still be muggleborn, Mary, just like me, and they’ll still hate us.”
“I know,” Mary said, nodding slightly. “But it’s not just me, is it? If I stay out of it, they might hate me, they might come after me, but my family will be fine, especially if I keep my distance from them. I’m not important, I’m not visible, they would have no reason to try to hurt them to get to me. But if I fight… if they went after my family… Colin has his first girlfriend, and Iain is only eight. And little Isabel has only barely started school. They should all have lives ahead of them, and I can’t put them in danger!”
Mary seemed more agitated than Lily had ever seen her, and admittedly she found it somewhat difficult to identify with her feelings. Of course she had family too, but Petunia was older than her and capable of taking care of herself and her parents… well, her parents would want her to fight at any cost.
“I… I’m sorry, Mary, I didn’t realize this was so difficult for you,” Lily said, a little more bitingly than she intended. “But I’m sure you’ll make the right decision in the end.”
“You mean you’re sure I’ll choose to join up and fight in the end,” Mary snapped, standing up and pushing away from the bed.
“No!” Lily gasped. “No, that’s not what I meant at all. I just meant that I’m sure you’ll figure out what the right thing for you is.” Lily struggled for a moment with her own feelings, trying to set them aside to understand her friend better. “I think… I think you should reflect on what you need to do the most, and what you’ll regret most down the road. There are so many what-ifs, Mary… what if you fight and your family gets hurt, what if you don’t fight and they get hurt anyway, what if you don’t fight and we lose the war… you have to think about it all, Mary, and decide what path you can live with, what path won’t make you hate yourself ten years from now. And whatever decision you make, I promise we’ll all be okay with it. I… I can’t promise that it’ll be easy for us, but we’ll still love you.”
“I don’t really know what to do,” Mary sighed, sitting back down on the bed and flopping back onto the comforter with a deep sigh.
“I know, but you’ll figure it out,” Lily said assuredly, laying back next to her friend.
“Thanks.”
They lay together, lost in their own thoughts, for a little while, before Mary sat up and smiled softly.
“I’ve got to go, Fabian and I are grabbing dinner with Gideon,” she said.
“Okay, have fun,” Lily replied, grinning knowingly. “See you later.”
Mary left and closed the door behind her, and Lily shut her eyes, tempted to just go to sleep then, even though it was shamefully early. But her stomach was growling, and reminding her that it had been far too long since she’d had a full meal. As Lily was contemplating what to order for dinner, she heard the door to the apartment slam, and she wonder what could have made the usually reserved Alice so upset.
“Lily!” James shouted through the apartment. It wasn’t Alice who was agitated then. “Lily, you home?”
“Shh, the neighbors are going to hate you if you keep that up,” Lily hissed, opening the door to her bedroom.
James practically, sprinted to join her, flopping dramatically onto her bed and offering her one of his patented charming smiles.
“So, you’ll never guess -”
“Dumbledore sent you an invitation to join a secret society to fight Voldemort?” Lily interrupted, amused.
“I… yeah… how’d you…?” James stammered.
“All four of us got one too,” Lily explained, chuckling lightly at James’ sullen expression. “You gonna do it?”
“Hell yeah!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up at the thought.
“James,” Lily scoffed, “I don’t mean to be a Debbie Downer, but how exactly are you going to do that? You’re the one that’s been telling me that we can’t get involved in this.”
“I know I have, but Lils, it’s a secret organization, so it’s perfect!” he insisted.
“I feel like you’re banking on that a little too much,” she replied.
“Are you trying to tell me not to do it?” James asked, sounding betrayed. “Because I thought we were on the same page about this.”
“No!” Lily amended. “I want you to do this, I want to do this. But I just don’t think you’ve fully thought through whether or not you can do it. This is the hardest part about who you are, not being able to do what you want to do, you’ve told me that.”
“I know, I know,” he said, shaking his head. “I know I haven’t really thought it through, but I’ll figure it out, because Lils, I just know that I could never live with myself if I passed this opportunity up. This is one of those times when there is a right and a wrong and it’s clear, and if you’re not fighting for good, then you’re wrong.”
Mary’s words from earlier and her uncertainty haunted Lily as she listened to her boyfriend speak. Two hours ago, she felt the same way, and thought of this war in terms of black and white, but now there were shades of grey starting to appear.
“I’m not sure it’s that easy,” she whispered, more to herself than to James.
But whether it was easy or not, Lily and James both knew what they wanted to do, without any doubts or hesitations. There was only one path for them, nothing else would do.
o . o . o
As darkness gathered on Tuesday night, Lily sat in her apartment, carefully applying concealment charms to James and herself. She knew they were going to a muggle neighborhood, that was part of the appeal of the location, but it was still imperative that nobody recognize them. She had changed the color of her hair to a dark brown, and her eyes to brown as well. With a simple charm, she had been able to plump her cheeks a bit and make her face a bit rounder. With a dark cloak over her clothes, she felt pretty confident in her disguise, but James was more of a challenge. He was so well known, and now that people were clued in to his ‘alter ego’, it was harder for him to go unnoticed. It was like the whole world was looking for him more than they ever had before. Tweaking his hair color wouldn’t be enough, so Lily had spent time over the weekend researching glamour spells and concealment charms to keep him safe. She had settled on one that would play on the mind of the beholder, showing them someone they would most like to avoid. It was more or less a misdirection trick, one that could be overcome with effort, but it seemed like their best options. Their friends would be able to, with some concentration, break the spell and see James as he was, but passersby would be none the wiser.
As Lily finished her spellwork, she said a silent prayer that it would be good enough. She didn’t think she would be able to live if she was the reason he got hurt. She draped a black cloak around his shoulders as well, an added layer of protection from prying eyes, and took a deep breath. There wasn’t anything else to do but jump and see where this adventure would take them.
Fabian and Alice both joined them in the living room, ready to depart. Mary had stayed late at the hospital, and said she would meet them there if she decided to be a part of this. The four new graduates stepped out of the apartment and into the dark, dinghy street. Night had decidedly fallen, leaving London blanketed in a deep, velvety darkness. They walked two block north and one west, until they reached the alley that they always used to apparate. Fabian had set up a portkey using a tattered shirt, and as the four stood at the back of the alley, they each took hold of a piece of it. Lily clutched tight to the fabric, her fingers rubbing against the flannel. They waited for what seemed like ages until the garment began to emit a blue glow. Lily felt like she was being yanked forward by the belly button and squeezing her through a sausage stuffer. Just when she thought it would never end, the smell of salt water filled her senses and her feet slammed into the pavement. Her knees ached from the force of the impact, and she had to steady herself with a hand on the pavement for a moment before she could stand.
“Alright, I think we’re just a few blocks away if I did this right,” Fabian said, looking around and trying to make sense of their surroundings.
Stars speckled the dark sky so far from the city, but it did little to light the streets. There were no street signs or lit windows, just the sound of waves crashing against rocks a few blocks away. With their cloaks drawn close around them, they were indistinguishable from the night sky, walking towards their destination. The house they found at the address in question was small, with lavender walls and buttercream yellow shutters. Flowerboxes hung from all the window sills with brightly colored impatients blooming wildly. In short, it had Dumbledore written all over it.
James stepped forward and knocked on the door, and without hesitation it swung open. The foursome stepped into the foyer and immediately found a group of adults of varying ages sitting uncomfortably in the spacious sitting room. It was evident that an enlargement charm had been cast in the inside of the house.
Around the room sat a few people they knew from school - Gideon, Frank Longbottom, Edgar Bones, all of their friends - and a few older individuals. Lily recognized Caradoc Dearborn and Alastor Moody, but there were several others who she didn’t know. A few more people filtered into the small house, including Mary, until finally it Dumbledore stood.
“Let’s begin,” he announced, casting his penetrating gaze around the room. “I believe it is customary to have introductory icebreakers at gatherings such as these, however there is some protection in anonymity. I will leave it up to you to get to know each other to the extent that you are comfortable.”
His eyes fixed on James for a moment before fleeting around the rest of the group. Lily knew that this rule was largely for James’ benefit, regardless of what Dumbledore said. The fewer people that knew that James fighting in the war covertly, the more likely it was that he’d be able to keep that information secret.
“You are all here,” Dumbledore continued, “because the changes that have been taking hold of the wizarding world distress you all equally, because you think that it is morally reprehensible to consider one person superior to another solely because of their ancestry, and because you all want to fight to see the world restored to the light. It is not enough to stand by and hope that others will do the work for you, we all must roll up our sleeves and plunge our hands straight into this bubbling cauldron.”
Apprehensive looks passed around the room, mixed with curiosity and determination. Lily felt a little bit nervous, but mostly she just felt ready to begin the fight.
“I’d like to give you all this opportunity to ask any questions you might have,” Dumbledore continued, opening his arms wide in a welcoming gesture.
“What exactly are we going to be doing?” someone asked from the behind Lily.
“There are a whole manner of things that need to be done, and everyone will have their own role to play,” Dumbledore answered. “We have Ministry employees, healers, aurors, teachers… each as important as the last. There are a number of ways in which we will have to combat our opponent. First, we will need as much intelligence as possible. It is important to know where Lord Voldemort plans to strike and when, as well as who fights for him, and where he is most vulnerable. There will be those of you who will work to make the public aware of all that is happening, and protect them from Voldemort’s influence. And then there will of course be those who are on the front lines, dueling against the Death Eaters to save lives. It will not, at any point, be easy. But it will always be necessary.”
Everyone in the room looked curiously at Dumbledore, his words clearly not giving them a much better picture of what this war would look like for them.
“I have some intelligence,” Dumbledore sighed, “that Voldemort’s followers are planning an attack in two days’ time. I have chosen six of you to attempt to thwart this endeavor.”
“Which six?” somebody asked.
“Where are they attacking?” another attendee burst out.
“Who goes on each mission will never be divulged to anyone who does not strictly need to know,” Dumbledore answered, his blue eyes flashing. “Even I will not know the details of every mission. But I suggest we all pray to whatever god we believe in that as many missions as possible result in victories.”
Lily looked over at her friends. She’d be praying for victories, but she would also be praying for as few casualties as possible.
o . o . o
James slunk through the London shadows, his invisibility cloak wrapped tightly around him. He’d had a fairly lengthy conversation with Dumbledore and McGonagall the night after the Order’s information session, and they had settled on a role for him that they thought would be suitable for his skills and his restrictions. James would, in effect, be the sniper of the Order. He would stay low, out of sight, hidden, and try to covertly disarm Death Eaters before attacks even began.
Part of him hated it. He was a good dueler, and he wanted to be in the thick of every battle. He wanted Death Eaters to see his face before the fell, and know who brought them down. But James knew that he could only continue to be involved for as long as his involvement remained secret. He also knew that, despite her assurances that she wanted him to fight, Lily would be out of her mind with worry if he were constantly dueling. He didn’t ever want her to be afraid that he wouldn’t come home. So this was good, a good compromise.
He was headed toward a muggle hospital, where the Death Eaters were supposedly planning an attack that would mimic a gas explosion. Emmeline and Alice were trying to surreptitiously evacuate as many patients as possible, while Gideon and Dedalus Diggle tried to shore up the hospital’s defenses. That left James with Alastor Moody, keeping watch over the entrances and initiating the fight should one arrive.
The light rain that was falling tapped quietly against against the cobblestones of the street, a soft sort of ambiance. James watched the street carefully from his perch two stories above, nestled in a window with the best vantage point. He was looking for anything out of the ordinary - shadows that didn’t belong or a tiny bit of movement in his peripheral vision. Moody lay in wait below, a one-man barrier between the Death Eaters and the hospital entrance.
Just when James was starting to think that their information had been faulty, a dense fog began to filter through the street below, thick tendrils of it snaking into every nook and cranny. Shit, James thought to himself. How was he supposed to see anything now? He was debating whether or not to leave his post when he heard what sounded like a tin rubbish bin lid hitting the stones and a cat screeching loudly. He didn’t know what that meant, but it decided matters for him. There was no way he was going to hide up in this building while Merlin knows what was going on down below. Besides, he still had the invisibility cloak, he would be fine.
James bolted down the stairs and into the foyer of the building, stopping short of the door. Pulling the invisibility cloak around his shoulders, he peered through the window of the door before opening it as little as possible and slipping through. He stayed nestled in the doorway, watching for some sign of the Death Eaters. There, floating through the fog were three darker shadows. James tightened his grip on his wand, carefully taking aim.
“Stupefy,” he whispered, and a jet of red light streamed from his wand.
But the fog appeared to be more than just a visual distraction, it seemed to have some property that slowed down spells and eroded them as they traveled. He would never be able to do anything from his position. But he worried that the fog, whatever it was, would eat at the cloak’s magic too. If it was everything his father had told him, though, it would hold up against anything.
James stepped out cautiously, keeping his wand raised in front of him. He could feel the air thicken as he pushed through the fog, trying to make his way to the Death Eaters that were still moving forward. And yet, he felt as though the fog had reached fingers into his mind, clouding his thoughts and making him feel dim-witted. What the hell kind of fog is this? The closer he crept to the Death Eaters, the more clear the outlines became, but the more dense his mind felt.
Impedimenta, James thought, directing his wand towards the Death Eaters and what he hoped was the fog’s core. It began to lift slightly, and even though it wasn’t completely gone, it was enough for James’ mind to clear and for him to see the three Death Eaters, and Moody standing boldly in front of them. He heard the Death Eaters snarl wildly, but before any of them could get off a curse, Moody had sent one aimed at the Death Eater in the middle. James sent his own stunning spell at the Death Eater on his right, hitting him in one attempt, and the man crumpled to the ground. The final Death Eater standing whirled around, searching for James while trying to evade Moody. A feeling of victory washed over James, as the Death Eater turned to disapparate. In the split second before he disappeared, however, he hurled an object toward the hospital door. Flames exploded and climbed the stone facade of the building rapidly, eating through walls and floors and and expanding by the second.
“Fiendfyre!” Moody yelled over the roar of the flames, just as a hippogriff formed out of them, spiralling into the air and then plunging through a hospital window several stories higher. “You know the spell?”
“Yeah!” James confirmed, directing his wand toward the flaming hospital. “Ignis vivens praefoco! Ignis vivens praefoco!”
He kept chanting the spell, focusing his mind on the hospital and imagining it unburnt. Two sharp cracks told him that Gideon and Dedalus had apparated to their sides, and their voices joined his and Moody’s in casting the spell. Minutes later, the heat from the blaze began to dissipate, and not long after that, the fire disappeared into plumes of smoke. They held the spell for a few moments longer to ensure that every last spark had been snuffed out.
James opened his eyes, looking at the remains of the hospital standing in front of him. Entire chunks of it had been consumed, crumbled and charred stone left behind. They could see into the hospital, see the damage that had been wreaked on the old building. James hoped that Emmeline and Alice had been fast enough in evacuating the patrons.
“We can’t leave it like this,” James protested, as Moody began to turn away.
“That spell is draining, and Merlin knows what that blasted fog did to us,” Moody argued. “We need to get back to headquarters, get assessed. Another team will be sent to repair the damage and assess and Statute of Secrecy violations. That’s how it works.”
Even as he spoke, James felt what remained of his energy draining out of his body as if someone had pulled a plug. The adrenaline that had flooded his system was seeping away now, and he could tell he didn’t have much time left before he would collapse from exhaustion.
“Get him home,” Moody commanded to Gideon as James felt himself fading fast. “Lily will take care of him. Meet me back at headquarters.”
Gideon nodded and wrapped his arm around James’ torso, making sure he had a tight grip, before disapparating. The two men reappeared in the hallway outside Lily’s apartment. Gideon started knocking frantically, looking around to make sure nobody was watching him. The door swung open to reveal an annoyed looking Lily, but her expression changed once she saw James. She immediately stepped aside, allowing them into the apartment.
“What happened?” she pressed, helping Gideon get James settled on their couch.
“Just a little overexerted, that’s all,” Gideon replied. “He just needs some rest and he’ll be fine.”
Lily nodded and saw Gideon out, before returning to the couch and taking a seat, lifting James’ head into her lap and running her fingers through his hair.
“Hey Lils,” he murmured, before his eyes drifted shut and he fell into a deep sleep.
#hp#marauders#lily evans#james potter#mary macdonald#alastor moody#Albus Dumbledore#fabian prewett#gideon prewett#order of the phoenix#gen writes#atttr
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Friday Five: They’re Heeere
This week the Roswell TV series reboot premiered. If you’re not familiar with the original series, here’s your crash course:
Liz lived in Roswell, New Mexico where her family leaned into the “myth” of the 1947 UFO crash by owning a themed diner not far from the UFO museum. Little did she know, an alien named Max would save her from a gunshot, they’d fall in love, and all of their friends would wind up uncovering alien and government conspiracies during their high school days. It was a fun show that lasted three seasons on the WB and UPN.
The series was developed at the same time as the Roswell High series of novels centering on the same characters. Like CW’s The 100 today, because they were written at essentially the same time, there are a lot of differences between the two.
The new series, called Roswell, New Mexico instead, is an adaptation of the books, not the WB TV show, and it ages the characters up to ten years post high school/ All that is to say, I watched (and livetweeted) the pilot this week, and I really love this adaptation so far. So, this week’s Friday Five is five things I liked about the pilot.
Five: The Ortechos
When the original series began casting, Shiri Appleby landed the role of Liz, and her surname became Parker instead of Ortecho. RNM restores Liz’s original Mexican-American heritage. This means we get stories about immigration, border control, the legality of aliens, etc. It’s only touched on in the pilot when Liz gets stopped at a “sobriety checkpoint” on her way home that has an ICE van sitting next to it. I think if you set your show in the modern day, that’s an important point to touch on. People already know its happening, but you shouldn’t ignore modern issues in a modern story.
Restoring the Ortechos also means we restore Liz’s sister Rosa, though only partly. The party girl died right around the time Liz graduated from high school, and she took two other girls with her. The town? Not so friendly with the Ortechos as a result. And this provides a long running mystery of just what really happened with Rosa. Win-win for story dynamics, in my opinion.
Four: Michael’s A Genius
Yes, Michael is still the bad boy living in a trailer. The difference here is that the show doesn’t just take the road that he was lazy or didn’t care about school. Instead, it’s clear that he probably got bored in class because he was more preoccupied with his real life story. Liz makes a point that Michael had better test scores than she did in high school. He could have gone to any university he wanted. He chose to stay in his trailer in Roswell. Said trailer is full of pieces of the crash, geology research, maps of the land, etc. Micheal, just like in the books and previous show, is obsessed with their origin, and I’m excited to see where his story goes beyond being the angry guy who had some art skills for a few episodes.
(Don’t think I’m bashing the OG Michael here. I’m not. He was actually one of my favorites. I just think it’s clear from the pilot that this show is aiming to do more with him.)
Three: The Ten Year Gap
You know how we all watch teen dramas and wonder to ourselves just what the parents of these kids are thinking letting them run off and do whatever they want? No? Just me? The original show attempted to address that by having Maria’s mother flip out whenever possible, Max’s dad investigate aliens, and Liz’s dad send her to boarding school. This time around, we don’t have the constraints of these characters being teenagers with parents and teachers they have to report to. I think aging them up gives the writers a lot more freedom. It’ll also be interesting to see how Isabel deals with married life as an alien longer term than what we saw in the older series, how Max reconciles breaking the law with being a cop, Alex’s duty to the military, etc.
Two: Maria Reads Palms
Okay, I’m not actually saying Maria’s a practicing psychic or anything like that. She wasn’t in the pilot a ton. My point here is that what we saw of her in the pilot makes me think she’s still going to be one of my favorite characters. She’s bartending and reading palms, which I like to think is a nod to the freespirit vibe of the early series Maria that drastically changed by the time the show was done. I’m curious to see how long it takes before she learns the alien secret and how her friendship with Liz is different this time around, or how her relationship with Michael is different this time around. Maria became such an integral part of the original series that I’m really excited to see what the writers do with her.
One: The Relationships
If you didn’t watch or read Roswell for its science fiction aspects, you probably got into it for the relationships. There was palpable chemistry between all of the leads. The back and forth nature of teen TV meant there were a lot of breakups and makeups, but they’re adults now, so the relationships should shift a bit, right?
One of the things I loved about the pilot episode in particular was Isabel telling Max he should fall in love with literally anyone else, and his response of not having been able to for ten years already, so it probably wasn’t going to happen. We might not have watched Max and Liz interact in high school, but Max makes it clear Liz is it for him from the get-go, setting the tone for their relationship for the series.
We also know that Isabel married a human who doesn’t know her secret, that she’s successfully kept her secret for 20 years. We see that the twins treat Michael as family, that Michael knows the wrath of Isabel from a simple “what did you do” to Max. We also see that Michael is a bit more fluid this time around as he hooks up with Alex (who I suspect might be closeted? That wasn’t entirely clear.), but the showrunner pointed out on twitter he could still have a relationship with Maria as well.
One of the most important relationship in the original was the friendship between Liz and Maria. They were there for one another through everything, even if they didn’t want to be. We get the sense of that here as well. They clearly lost touch while Liz was away, but Maria still hugs her, gives a drink, leaves a gift on Rosa’s cross, and makes sure the band plays Liz’s favorite song at the class reunion.
There was just sooooo much hinted at in the pilot. Honestly, the writing team did a fantastic job at setting up the dynamics of the show in such a short amount of time.
You all know I love a good reboot though. You watching Roswell, NM? Or are you skipping out on it? Tell what you like/hate/wish it would do instead!
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Skyrim and Breath of the Wild: My Two Favorite Open World Games
While botw doesn’t really qualify as an RPG, it still has many elements similar to one that I feel like this comparison is fair. Even though a large gap of time, graphical style, aesthetics, music, and story splits the two in feel and theme, I still feel like both games plucked the same heartstrings for myself, albeit in different ways. This is a long, long essay type post with no pictures. I wrote this instead of doing a reading assignment, so enjoy.
Both of these games came to me at opportune times in my life. Skyrim came to me right in the middle of my ‘golden-days’ of highschool, where I had the absolute most amount of free time and no responsibilities. I delved into the game and devoured it whole, and when my brother would take it to uni with him I would spend hours into the night until 2, 3 AM pouring over the guidebook and analyzing tactics and build ideas and roleplay elements I could incorporate into it the second I got my hands on it again. I almost convinced my dad to buy me the game so I could play it while my brother was away, but for my own good and those of my grades I failed. I would play Skyrim until sunrise, and then until sunset again, and I would go on to make probably actually hundreds of characters, each with different back stories and approaches and methods of play and skills. They would all feel unique and I would treat each one like an experience and go new places, or even go to places I knew well on purpose to see if I could put new spins on it. The world was so open and ready to manipulate and bend to your will that I, the moldable teenager I was, was utterly bent on feeling every square inch of this game hundreds of times, like a baby given a new toy they have to shove in their mouth for hours. I’m not proud of the amount of time I spent on Skyrim, but I am glad I got to, and I’m proud of some of my accomplishments. I invented this method of infinite Magicka regeneration as long as you were in a circle of a certain spell by making myself a vampire Breton with 100% magicka absorb (which involved using a glitch allowing you to use the same constellation stone twice) and casting a banishment spell on myself with the perk that makes restoration affect vampires. I spent days perfecting this until the final product: I could walk into a dungeon and cast a circle of light on the floor, walk into it, and unleash untamed power and destruction and anything I wanted anywhere until the circle wore off, and I’d cast it again. When my brother walked in on my working on this his jaw kinda dropped.
Similarly, I would go on to invent all sorts of my own clever elements to the game as I mold it to my will, like one of those shake lights you have to break in a bunch of places to get it to light up. I would play the game dry over and over. Graduation came, and I slowed down. Other things came into my life and I had other games to play, new experiences to mull over. New worlds to bend. I would always go back to Skyrim for a few days, trying to pick it up again and feel the same awe and excitement and pure wonder I did when it first came upon me, but I would eventually realize “I’ve done this exact same thing too many times now” whether it be the character, route, skills, or style, I’d done it already. To this day, it’s the only game I’ll actually pull out and play sometimes when I’m truly lost or have nothing to do or feel depressed or broken. It’ll always remind me of my youth and make me have something to look forward to again. I’ve still already done it all, but that doesn’t really matter sometimes does it? Sometimes it’s just about remembering and being a totally different and older person sitting in front of the screen that gives you the same experience and joy no matter what you’ve been through.
I don’t trust Bethesda with TES6 anymore. I don’t think it’ll work for me, and I don’t think it’ll be a great game. I’m excited for it, as I’m naturally inclined to be and I won’t shut myself up over it, but it won’t be the next Skyrim for me. It won’t make me a wide-eyed 14 year old again, nothing can do that. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it, I’m sure I will. But I don’t trust Bethesda’s methods as a company, and I don’t know if they’ll ever achieve what they did in my eyes when I was a kid. I’ll sit and listen to the music sometimes, and it’ll hit me in waves; the world, the awe, the excitement. The memories of coming home from big life events like finals or job interviews or trips and being able to relax and play it again. It almost sounds like an addiction at this point, and my brother would joke that I was, but it didn’t harm my social/professional life in any way, so I don’t think it was a true addiction.
Then I realize they don’t even have the same guy on music for TES6 as they did for morrowind/skyrim again and I remind myself it won’t be the one.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a gullible hope that TES6 will do all those things to me again, though. But when it comes down to it, Skyrim was the biggest and most influential game on my life as a teenager. It was just a great game. I loved it, everything about it. That’s all there is to it. It’s one of those games I wish I could erase my memory of and do all over again.
And you’re wondering why the hell this essay is titled with BOTW, and here’s the connection; the only other game I truly would like to erase my memory for and experience again is Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. But this is for a totally different reason.
BOTW came into my life at a similarly critical point of my life in young adulthood; I was at the end of my community college career, having only 2 classes for the entire semester. I had a job, but I hated it and was depressed over it. I felt like I was going nowhere fast, and BOTW came out with the switch and I decided to buy into the hype and see what it was like. BOTW is an untamed love letter to everything that made Skyrim amazing to me, and yet it was totally new and unseen and alien. It was huge in scope, the awe and wonder it hit me with was the same as when I first realized how huge the province of Skyrim truly was; this was even bigger. The immersion and aesthetics were beautiful and appealed to me in ways skyrim never did, but I still fell in love with it and played this game up and down and inside out. I just checked and it’s still my #1 most played game on the switch nearly 2 years later at 120 hours. That’s not even 1/10th of how long I played Skyrim, and yet it managed to have that insane appeal to it that drove my young eyes wide in pure thrilling excitement. The minimalist music accompanied by beautiful sounds of nature reminded me of the frozen tundra of the mountain sides watching sunrises in the Throat of the World, or exploring the sun glazed Rift. None of this was actively in my mind as I played it, but I knew that the same heartstrings that Skyrim tugged on were being tangled with by this amazing game. As a Zelda game it blew me out of the water, and if I devoured Skyrim whole, then Breath of the Wild ate ME whole, because I was not in control of this world; I was merely a spectator trying to survive and watch it for as long as I could.
My biggest gripe once I finished the game to pieces that fall was that there was “nothing to do”. “There’s nothing to do!” I whine as I sit on my 120 shrine, 600 korok seed save file that had a full inventory of every best weapon and nearly every side quest completed save file. The DLC would then come out but I never felt compelled to play it or finish it. I’m tempted to today and that’s why I’m writing this. I did everything the game had to offer, or at least I thought, as I would late learn of lots of different activities I never got to finish, but I enjoyed it and I wouldn’t trade that time for any skyrim experience.
BOTW struggles to stand up to Skyrim’s depth, but its scope is ambitious and accomplishes its own voice without relying on anything ever created besides the actual Zelda franchise characters and lore. Skyrim, on the other hand, is an achievement of a long struggle as a gaming studio, the ultimate pinnacle of what Bethesda has learned in creating open world games. BOTW is most certainly an easily accessible game, and is not nearly as dated as the launch graphics of Skyrim, but I still have to give Skyrim the title of my favorite open world game, not purely because of the nostalgia, but because of the depth and variety you could get out of multiple playthroughs. BOTW only has 1 link, and link only has so many skills. You can use them to screw with the environment and do some crazy cool stuff, but nothing will top the pure blank canvas that was a new Skyrim file in my eyes. BOTW doubtlessly takes a hard 2nd place.
#skyrim#breath of the wild#legend of zelda#my opinion#essay?#video game#open world games#open shirt#Elder Scrolls#Zelda
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Davekat Fic Recs [P2]
Continuation of my Davekat fic rec list from ye old 2016. An absolute metric shit ton of Damn Good Fics™ have dropped since then, and it’s criminal I haven’t updated that original list in so long.
As per usual with these things, you won’t find much luck here with smut content. Some stories feature scenes, but for the most part, the fics themselves aren’t exclusively about such.
Cheers!
[Oneshots]
English is Full of Really Shitty Metaphors: You knew you probably shouldn't stay on a planet mostly inhabited by trolls once you finished your adult pupation and your blood color became more apparent. You also knew that you should learn a couple of other languages so that your weren't floundering around like an idiot when you eventually did move. Talking to random aliens on the internet seemed like a really good way to practice.
Fatalistic Humor, or, Jokes to Make Post-Mortem: ‘Head over heels’ is an appropriate turn of phrase because falling in love is exactly like throwing yourself down an endless staircase of inconvenient emotion.
i’m at the combination dunkin donuts & urgent care: Karkat Vantas is convinced beyond a doubt that his neighbor is some variety of murderer, until they actually meet in person. Highlights include blood at the laundromat, Dave's weird obsession with candles, and a box of shitty swords.
In Which a Loser is Sick: IN WHICH A LOSER IS SICK AND TRIES TO DENY IT, A TROLL IS ALSO A LOSER AND TRIES TO DENY IT, PISSING PANTS IS DISCUSSED IN THE SAME LINE OF CONVERSATION AS CALMING DOWN, VRISKA IS MENTIONED BECAUSE OF COURSE SHE IS, SOUP IS MADE AND SUBSEQUENTLY IGNORED, AND AN ACT OF AFFECTION IS REPAID BY THE WEAKENING OF AN IMMUNE SYSTEM. Dave gets sick and Karkat takes care of him.
Pretty Friggin’ MATRIMONIAL: Karkat is planning the proposal to end all proposals, but a clueless Dave has plans of his own.
Rumination: Dave and Karkat do some thinking, talking, kissing, and cuddling. Not necessarily in that order.
Self Sabotage and Other Symptoms of a Damaged Soul: Ok so everyone knows Dave and Dirk had a long amazing talk that presumably ended with Dave asking him for advice on the Being Not Straight stuff. My problem is, Dave also spent three years with his gloriously gay twin sister on a fucking space rock while he was right in the middle of coming to terms with all this stuff. So I wrote this mostly to reconcile the gap I think exists there, with a bunch of other Dave centric stuff thrown in with it.
Shitty Punchlines are the Purest Form of Self-Deprecation: Laying somewhere solidly post-credits and wondering, when do we start feeling like winners? Or is that not part of the package? Where's our fucking GameFAQs guide to navigating these stupid first steps into an eternity processing whatever the FUCK just happened, here? Going through that door was supposed to fix everything. Wasn't it? What's it going to take to fix ourselves?
Sleepwalk: Dave has unfortunate nocturnal habits. Karkat handles them better than anyone might've expected.
Start at the Beginning: Don't stop until eternity. And even then. (Davekat, meteor to can land to earth c and on. Happy anniversary.)
Sweatertown - Population: Two: Dave's cape gets hijacked, but Karkat knows what to do about it.
Tested: Dave and Karkat want to escape Aperture Science Laboratories.
That Cultural Divide: “Dave,” says Karkat neutrally, “why are they beating him up?” And your mouth runs dry.
Valentine’s Day: Valentine's Day through the three years on the meteor.
What to do When Your Boyfriend is Too Hot: Moving to a new universe and a new paradigm brings a lot of changes. And Dave kind of likes the way things were before, back on the Meteor, when he had Karkat all to himself and didn't spend sleepless nights waiting for the shoe to fall.
[Multichap]
About a Time I Failed: A doomed timeline AU. Instead of trolling John, Karkat finds himself scrolling through Dave's entire timeline. He is horrified by what he finds, and ends up in a pseudo-friendship with somewhat reluctant Dave. The story spans the rest of this timeline- Dave and Karkat's budding internet romance, the beta kids becoming friends, the start of SBURB, and, eventually, all of them realizing that Dave and Karkat's diversion from the Alpha Timeline has doomed them all. [Incomplete]
And it’s a Downward Spiral from There: One day, the whole world is going to acknowledge you as that one guy who finally made contact with aliens, but if you had known that getting drunk was going to lead up to abduction, a potential probing, and becoming the worst cult sacrifice this side of the galaxy, you probably would have just stayed at home. [Ongoing]
Astronomy in Reverse: Dave and Karkat are intergalactic pen pals, originally paired together for an extra credit school outreach project. Now, three years of correspondence later, they're best friends... and Karkat is finally immigrating to Earth. [Ongoing]
Breathe: Your name is Dave Strider, and there's nothing good about John and Rose changing schools. Without your twin sister and best friend, you've been left socially crippled at school, and barely coping at home. You're nearly certain that your mental health has been slowly spiraling downhill. You have no clue how you'll last the year to high school graduation. In all this, there's just one single ray of light. Your name is Dave Strider, and there's nothing good about John and Rose changing schools. Except for meeting Karkat Vantas. [Ongoing]
**The Calm is Terrifying When the Storm is All You’ve Known**: There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist. Slow burn, shifting perspectives; romance really isn't the focus here but it'll still play a significant part; extra content warnings will be posted with each relevant chapter. [Ongoing] [y’all I’m serious read it it’ll water your crops and clear your chakras it’s Good Shit]
cold desert: Curiosity killed the cat. It probably just wasn't as good at being nosy as Dave is. [Ongoing]
Demon Eyes: In which Dave goes in to kill a demon for his bro, and things...don't exactly go as planned. [Ongoing]
Doc Scratch’s School for Supernaturally Gifted Adolescents: One minute you get a mysterious message from a man who types all in white like a jackass, and then the next thing you know you're being whisked away to a mystical school for kids with superpowers. If you weren't Dave fucking Strider, this sort of thing might bother you. [Ongoing]
Fortuitous: Dave and Karkat build a pillow fort and an unexpected chain of events occurs. [Ongoing]
If I Lose Everything in the Fire: The Kaiju - or Horrorterrors, as the trolls call them - first invaded Earth through a transdimensional rift at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. Serving the Condesce in her quest to add Earth to the Alternian Empire, these monsters have terrorized humanity for twelve years. With the help of rebel troll factions and the adaptation of Alternian mind integration technology - The Drift - the Interspecies Defense Program has fought back as the last line of defense between the Kaiju and Earth. Karkat Vantas was a Jaeger pilot, fought for freedom in the Assault on the Breach that brought trolls to Earth. The loss of his co-pilot left him bitter and full of rage, but desperate times have lead to him being recruited to join the fray once more. Dave Strider is the best and brightest the Interspec program has to offer. Jaeger Restoration Project Head, highest simulation score on record, and younger brother of the Deputy Marshal - except he's not allowed in a Jaeger. Nobody expects them to be Drift Compatible. [Ongoing]
i'm sick of the things i do when i'm nervous: Two idiots poke at recovery with a stick. [Complete]
IN WHICH TWO SETS OF HUMAN BROTHERLY BONDS ARE ESTABLISHED, SEVERAL CORRUPT INSTITUTIONS OF MORALITY ARE IDEOLOGICALY DEMOLISHED, A DOG WITCH USES GOD POWERS TO MESS WITH EXQUISTELY CAREFULLY PLANNED INFRASTRUCTURE PLANS FOR SOME TREES LIKE A JACKASS--: --APPROXIMATELY A BILLION FUCKING CONSORTS AND CHESS PEOPLE, ALONG WITH A LOT OF USELESS GOD MODED LAYABOUTS ARE LEAD TO SUCCESSFUL COLONIZATION AND ESTABLISHMENT BY A SUCCESSFUL AND COMPASSIONATE LEADER, AND LONG-SUNDERED SOULMATES TORN APART BY FEAR AND DEVASTATING, MIND-BOGGLING STUPIDITY ARE REUNITED AT LAST BY A WISE, COMPASSIONATE BOSS / GUIDANCE FIGURE AND HIS LOYAL, EFFICIENT RIGHT-HAND MAN. THERE ARE AT LEAST THREE CRYING SCENES, TWO KISSES, AND OVER TEN TOTAL MINUTES OF REAL-TIME DESCRIPTION OF LONGING GAZES AND TENDER HUGS. 2 RESOUNDING ENDORSEMENTS OF BELOVED MUNICIPAL OFFICIALS. PRIMERS ON HUMAN/TROLL INTERSPECIES ROMANCE. THIS TEXT IS SUGGESTED SCHOOLFEEDING MATERIAL FOR ALL REASONABLY GROWN HATCHLINGS GAZING OUT ON THE BLIGHTED WASTELAND OF THEIR PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS, WISHING THEY WERE DEAD, AND DESPERATELY YEARNING SOMEONE WOULD CLUE THEM IN ON JUST WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON. RATED 8(17)+ AND UP. [Complete]
M.C. Escher that's My Favorite MC [It’s the End of the World as We Know It]: Dirk has a plan, when he's 18 he's going to take Dave and get him the fuck out of their terrible lives and start over. Until then being the barrier between Dave and Bro is his only job, his soulmate is just going to have to wait goddamnit. Dave has a plan, it involves getting internet famous and not going gay, easy right? Karkat also has a plan, to repeatedly track down his dumb as rocks soulmate and get him to actually talk to him for fuck's sake. [Ongoing]
Midnight’s Son: Dave Strider's father, a prominent detective, is tasked with infiltrating the Midnight Crew. Dave, worried about his father's safety, decides to do a little undercover work of his own and tries to befriend the boss's son, Karkat Vantas. [Complete]
Nothing Risked, Nothing Lost: Try as he might, Dave remembered nothing from the first four years of his life. There were three signs of imminent upheaval. First, the King of Derse disappeared without a trace. Second, the Queen of Prospit dropped dead. The third sign was the return of long-lost royalty. Not like any of this was Dave's concern. Not the war between Prospit and Derse, not the horrorterrors of the Furthest Ring, not the failings of some dumb monarchs. He was a nobody. Not like Rose, a bona fide Seer of Light. He wasn't sure why she wanted them to go to Derse, but he followed her, anyway. Like he always did. [Hiatus]
Off Court: Your name is Dave Strider, and a hospital wasn’t the setting you had imagined when you thought of seeing your twin again. Your name is Karkat Vantas, and having Terezi drag you around her weird human legislacerator training probably wasn’t the worst way you could spend the rest of your sweeps. And then you meet him. [Ongoing]
Palisades, Palisades: In your memories, you see Dave Strider, fourteen-years-old and made up of lean muscle and awkward limbs that he would still need a few years to grow into fully. Crows surround him, all cawing impatiently, vying for the chicken sandwich in his backpack. He swears loudly as he swings a stick at them, trying to get them to leave him the fuck alone. “Stupid feathery assholes,” he’d always complain once he finally shooed them away. You tear yourself out of the memory. You miss him, and you hate yourself for it. [Complete]
The Red Thing: The first time you ever realised there was something wrong with you, you were two sweeps old. You still remember it like it was just yesterday. You were at the playground in your then-community, which you had long since moved from. You’d been playing ‘tag’ with some of the other young trolls, but had tripped and scraped your knees. One of the other troll’s custodial guardians had noticed what had happened, and wandered over to make sure you were alright. You don’t think you’ll ever forget the look on her face when she picked you up and saw the mutant-red seeping through the knees of your pants. Things spiraled downhill quickly after that. You’d never quite understood what was happening when you were young, but you’d known that you’d become an outcast. Other trolls around you started to avoid you. Sometimes they’d throw things at you – food, stones, anything that might hurt you. Other times, they’d call you names – mistake, mutant, freak. You preferred when they tried to hurt you. At least then you could fight back. [Ongoing]
space cowboy disaster zone: Your name is Karkat Vantas, and these nights you eke out a quiet living on Antoren-3, helping around the Caltira Inn or scavenging out in the rust plains. It’s a simple life, and the only excitement you get for the most part is from the stories of other scavengers, a handful of bar fights, and the occasional salvageable wreck. Fresh wrecks, you’ve only seen a handful of times, and when John spots the telltale streak of light from a distant crash in the middle of a rust storm, you’re eager to get first dibs on whatever it might contain, the elements be damned. You don’t expect a survivor. [Ongoing]
Stepping Stones: A series of vignettes concerning the evolution of the relationship between Karkat Vantas and Dave Strider. Or, the troll title: IN WHICH DAVE AND KARKAT DISCUSS THE VARIOUS DIFFERENCES BETWEEN HUMAN AND TROLL GENITALS, THERE IS AN AWKWARD CONFESSION OF EMOTIONS, DAVE AND DIRK FINISH THEIR CONVERSATION ON THE ROOFTOP, DAVE GETS SOME ADVICE FROM A FEW OF THE LADIES IN HIS LIFE, AND THERE IS A SMUTTY EPILOGUE. [Complete]
The Stories We Tell Ourselves: Dave was silent. YES. YOU. The voice answered him before he even had a chance to speak up and voice his confusion or curiosity with a lack of delicacy only a child was capable of. It had a harsh way of speaking, brash enough to be rude and so loud the sound of his voice practically echoed off his skull. In it he could feel the rich, crimson flow of blood, the drip, drip, of molten lava degrading stone so ancient not even the gods of old would have lived to see it form. A being so old, so vast, that even to speak his name would grant one with immeasurable power. It made him shudder, little hands clenching into fists against rough stone. HUMAN CHILD. In which Dave is alone and Dragons exist. Shenanigans ensue. [Ongoing]
Stow Away: Calm and collected, that's Dave Strider. The docking station around him is chaotic and loud but he is like ice, cool and clear. None of that is true of course, but nobody is looking closely enough to notice the way his hands shake and his eyes dart around underneath the opaque plastic of his vintage sunglasses. Dave Strider sneaks on board an Alternian ship in an attempt to flee his shitty situation on Earth. This is the first of many questionable decisions. [Complete]
Time Displacement: Side A: After the events of the game, Dave wakes up in a universe that is familiarly unfamiliar. Sburb didn't happen, all their guardians are alive, and Bro is...different. [Ongoing]
Transcend: Dave doesn't get troll romance, but that's okay because Karkat is bad at it anyway. A journey through all four quadrants and a bit more. [Complete]
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Fanfic Status Update
Now that the summer is over and I am officially in my thesis year of graduate school, my fanfic updates on AO3 are by necessity becoming slower and more sporadic. So I figured I would do the decent thing and start a tumblr to keep people up to date on progress for my ongoing fanworks so you don’t worry I’ve fallen off the face of the earth between updates and so that I don’t have to overburden the Notes sections of the fics.
First and probably most pressing, The Golden Hour: I promise you, it isn’t dead. It’s just… sort of on the backburner at the moment. The story itself is basically complete as posted; the last chapter that’s been hanging over my head for the last couple of months is pretty much bonus material. Chloe’s notes are written, the (very short) epilogue is mostly written but needs some fine-tuning, and the illustrations are all at least partially completed, but none of them are *finished* finished. It’s really mostly a matter of getting my act together to finish the artwork, but since I have so much other artwork I’m supposed to be focusing on for my thesis right now, this has unfortunately been pushed into lower priority. I assure you, it’s all still coming eventually. I just don’t have a date for when it’ll be done. I also have a couple of ideas for other time travel dates, so it will probably expand out into a series, but again I don’t have a date for when this will come to fruition. Since my fanfic focus has shifted to Now That the World is Over, it could be a while.
Speaking of which: I’m trying to stick to a schedule of releasing one chapter of NTTWIO per month for the time being. The rough draft of Act I: Dawn of Time is complete, and it comes to ten chapters. My revision process is pretty thorough, so there’s still a fair bit of work to be done on each chapter before it’s posted. How many chapters will the whole piece be? No idea. Act I coming out to an even ten chapters was honestly kind of a fluke, so I won’t say each Act will be ten chapters or anything like that. They’ll each take as many chapters as they need. I anticipate at least two more acts based on the ideas that I have and the events I have planned. So even though there’re large gaps between updates, don’t worry about this one petering out anytime soon: I’ve got over 30K of it written and ready for revisions.
Chapter 3 of NTTWIO should be out sometime in November, but I don’t have a firm release date for it yet. Honestly, the ending of this chapter has been kicking my butt since I first wrote it over the summer. So I still need to sort out that ending and work out some of the finer points of survival dining (my partner and I have different visions of what sort of food is in the zombie preparedness kit.). But it should be out soon, almost certainly this month (I prefer not to make absolute guarantees, especially while I’m in school), and it’ll have some quality Pricefield flirtatious banter for you all. The banter is a guarantee.
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Work Experience and Internships
Most of us go to university with the expectation that we’re positioning ourselves for a better starting salary, improved social mobility, and the chance to do our best work, live our best lives, and retire comfortably. But you probably know by now that a piece of paper isn’t going to cut it in the real world™, and employers expect more than good grades.
Work experience is one of the many ways to distinguish yourself from the crowd. (For more on maximising your graduate employability, check out this post on the boredofstudies forum) Internships, and unpaid internships especially, are an increasingly popular source of work experience to spruce up the CV. Considering how intense competition in the graduate market is these days, students are seeking out unpaid internships from as early as first year.
This post is supposed to be an introduction to internships, with a particular focus on unpaid internships and their accompanying risks and pitfalls.
What’s an internship?
“Internship” is a bit of a nebulous term to which we’ve attached certain expectations and ideas; in popular culture, interns are akin to coffee runners and menial office workers, or the ones we jokingly blame for misfired tweets, but the reality (as it tends to be) is far more complex.
You can think of internships as a bridge between academic theory and practical workplace experience - they’re a learning (and often networking) opportunity to give you a taste of what it’d be like to work at a particular organisation or in a particular sector.
An internship can be structured or unstructured, paid or unpaid, and can last anywhere from a few weeks to twenty four months. They can be arranged through your university for academic credit, or you can seek them out yourself. The content of an internship is highly variable and dependent on the industry and organisation. You may be assigned a project or task, made to shadow senior executives, rotated through several divisions, or even invited to attend networking events and receive professional development.
The pros and cons of unpaid internships
Pros
Gaining experience in your academic field, or a field related to what you intend to pursue as a career;
Taking on or refining transferable skills that will enhance your employability;
Getting a sense of an organisation’s day-to-day rhythm and a feel for their workplace culture;
If doing an internship for credit, your work and study time overlap;
In some cases, being provided with mentoring, training, career coaching and/or professional development;
The opportunity to form connections and grow your network.
Cons
You are not reimbursed for travel or meals, which means paying out of pocket for what can be lengthy commutes to your workplace;
Employers who don’t respect your boundaries or provide flexibility;
Doing work that is used but not credited to you;
Managing paid work, study and other commitments on top of the unpaid internship;
Being given boring and trivial tasks that don’t challenge you or help you learn, conversely;
Being given a heavy and unrealistic workload for an intern, i.e. doing the work a normal employee would but without pay (this ABC Online report and Pedestrian TV article cover the pitfalls of unpaid internships).
This Junkee article also looks at the social implications of unpaid internships, e.g. widening the gap between privileged and underprivileged students.
Know your rights
Students are often treated as free labour because you don’t have the requisite work experience or skills to justify being paid. That means you aren’t afforded the same workplace protections and rights as paid employees. This makes unpaid internships ripe for exploitation, and frankly, you deserve better.
According to the Fair Work Ombudsman, an you might be in an employment relationship rather than interning if:
You are doing more productive work than observational;
The work you are doing is normally done by paid employees, and/or is necessary to the organisation’s or company’s daily operations;
You are expected or required by the organisation to come work or do productive activities;
The company is benefiting more from the the arrangement than you.
Apart from reporting to the Fair Work Ombudsman, you can reach out to Interns Australia, which advocates for fairer and more transparent rules surrounding internships. It also recently launched the National Fair Internship Pledge to help employers and interns identify fair and high quality internship programs.
Searching for internships
Depending on your field of study, internships can be in huge or limited supply. My undergrad was in International Studies, which wasn’t something that had a neat and direct equivalent in the workplace like a Commerce or Business degree. However, communications, media and law internships are practically booming (the problem’s in the amount and quality of competition). So the big question is, where do you start looking?
University careers boards
These should really be your first stop. Get into the habit of regularly checking the careers board; if you know you’ll forget to, subscribe for weekly updates. The big upside of uni job boards is that you’ll see internship ads for small, obscure-sounding companies or organisations that you wouldn’t find when browsing big sites like GradAustralia (see below).
Also a friendly reminder that your careers centre has resources beyond job boards -- self-assessment tools, fact sheets on just about every aspect of jobseeking, industry news and updates, drop-in career advice and resume-polishing sessions, and careers workshops. Use these!
Online job boards
Career One, SEEK, gumtree and Indeed are popular for obvious reasons, but because of their scale, you’re bound to spend most of your time weeding out shifty ads from the legitimate ones.
I’d advise starting with these websites:
Grad Australia
GradConnection
Graduate Careers Australia, which manages Graduate Opportunities
Australian Internships
If you’re doing a generalist degree and not entirely sure what companies are suitable, fear not -- the first three sites have an “Arts and Humanities” filter in their search engines.
Careers fairs
There’s nothing like spending a half-day at the careers fair picking up freebies and chatting to recruiters. They’re a good next step if you’re serious about an internship with a big name company and have done some preliminary research into their internship or graduate programs.
Meeting representatives and recruiters allows you to get answers from real people, rather than answers from the other side of a screen. It’ll help you get a feel for what kinds of people the company is looking for, and even make some basic connections. (Of course, don’t forget to ask them for tips on what makes a successful application!)
Applying for internships
It’s always worth checking the credibility of any organisation you want to intern with -- have people mentioned good or bad experiences, is the work they do legitimate, are your roles and duties as an intern clearly laid out? Once you’ve narrowed your search down to a couple of internships, it’s time to do further research.
You need to be able to articulate why you want to intern at any organisation or company, and that requires knowledge of the organisation or company beyond “your brand is great” and “I want work experience”. What do you hope to gain from interning? How do you fit the company’s values? Make sure your applications are targeted, that you’re not just throwing yourself at any internship in your industry and hoping to land one. Consider your own personality, strengths and skills, and try to apply for internships that match them. If you know you don’t meet half the desired criteria of an advertised internship, then it’s probably best not to apply.
Which isn’t to discourage you from limiting your options. When you’re starting out, it’s okay to apply to as many places as possible just to get a feel for the entire application process. You need the experience of writing up cover letters and attending interviews, because it’ll serve you well when you start looking for a proper job post-graduation.
It’s a very, very good idea to ask for help and feedback on your application. Again, remember that your university’s careers centre pretty much exists for this reason. They can provide personalised advice on your resume and cover letter, and if fronting up to staff isn’t your cup of tea, there’s always the online resources.
International internships
International internships are the logical escalation of everyone and their hamster doing an internship. The “international” part adds a lot of value in soft skills (your independence, organisation, intercultural awareness, etc.) along with experience in your industry/field. Business is global now, and demonstrating your willingness to seek out international experience is a huge plus for employers. But as you can imagine, there’s a lot of preparation involved.
Finding an appropriate overseas internship
You can look for internships independently on sites like GoinGlobal, browse your university careers board, or apply through an organisation like The Intern Group. The last option is easier in the sense that the organisation will match you to a company, and may offer stipends or cover certain costs. Depending on the organisation, you might be able to access a range of other benefits like networking and social opportunities, professional development, and career training.
Regardless of how you look for an overseas internship, you want something that relates to what you’re studying. That’s also where applying through an organisation can help -- you tell them what you’re studying, and they fit you with one of their partner companies.
Affording the many costs
Many overseas internships tend to be unpaid, yet you have to fork out a lot of expenses for airfares, accommodation, visa fees, and daily living expenses (e.g. food, transport, leisure), not all of which will be covered by your sponsoring organisation. Many countries will require that you be able to show proof of available funds when applying for a visa, because they need to know you can financially support yourself for the duration of your stay.
You can finance your studies with OS-HELP, which is a loan available to students enrolled in a Commonwealth supported place who want to undertake some of their study overseas. You can access a maximum of two (2) OS-HELP loans over your lifetime.
Option two is applying for scholarships or grants that might cover part of your expenses. You can contact your university’s study abroad office for a better idea of what’s available and to determine if you’re eligible.
The complexity of visa application and work permit processes
Don’t underestimate how long it can take to acquire the correct documentation. Every country has different procedures, and some will take longer than others, but you should factor in a few months at most. Some types of visa need an in-person interview, and you have to travel to your city’s embassy or consulate for that. Be aware too that immigration requirements can and do change at short notice, and that you need to be on top of any changes to ensure you’ll be legally working in the country of your internship.
Allowing enough time to prepare
Travelling overseas to work isn’t something you can organise on short notice. You need to book airfares and arrange accommodation well in advance, make a list of all the things you need to pack, and if applicable, allow enough time to apply for and hear back from scholarship/grant providers. Between your organisation, you’ve got all the other minor inconveniences and hassles of student life to manage. So if you truly want an overseas internship experience, start preparing early.
Work Integrated Learning (WIL)
WIL simply refers to work experience that’s part of your university course, including internships, clinical and fieldwork. It’s good on a couple of levels:
Applying your university-acquired skills to the workplace;
Further developing your soft/transferable skills;
It’s part of your study, meaning that you’re doing work and study at same time, as opposed to fitting odd part-time hours around your timetable;
Your workplace rights are protected by arrangements with the university;
Your learning is structured in such a way that you benefit most;
Networking opportunities with reputable and even high-profile organisations like the Commonwealth Bank, the NSW Government, and various consulting firms (can depend on the university), leading to…
A ‘foot in the door’ for when you do graduate (I have a friend who did so well in one of Deloitte’s vacation programs that they were invited to return once they’d graduated.)
Universities are already moving towards a model of work integrated learning -- Usyd’s new Bachelor of Arts and Advanced Studies includes a fourth-year industry project that has you working on real-life problems and solutions, while the combined Bachelor of Creative Intelligence and Innovation at UTS includes a compulsory internship. Some universities have been using WIL for well over a decade, see the University of Newcastle and Macquarie University.
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I’m not familiar with the UK, but I know that understaffing is a very general problem with the healthcare field. What do you think drives this besides the overwhelming stress causing people to leave voluntarily? Is it just lack of interest in the health profession itself? The competition of schools/ programs for the number of people wanting to get into medicine? The gov’t? Where do you see the problem stemming from and what can be done to help? Thank you so much.
That’s an interesting question, though I suspect that given the complexity of the answer, it remains without an easy fix. You’re right to suggest stress plays a huge part. Understaffing, dissatisfaction with lifestyle, pay, progression and training can all play a part. The rise of litigation culture is another key factor; we’re receiving a lot more complaints than we used to, as patients and relatives expect more, sometimes to unrealistic or unfeasible degrees. I know your question suggests glossing over this bit, but I really think this is the crux of the matter; the working conditions in healthcare are probably, in a lot of systems, where the problem arises. Getting into medicine is competitive in I imagine every country. Because it’s thought of as a good job; secure, well-respected. Relatively well-paid. Lately in the past few years, doctors and nurses have been in the press more than usual, and usually for negative reasons. Recent contract disputes, protests, strikes etc have played a role, as have all sorts of high profile cases which are poorly understood by the public at large. Although still voted the most trusted professions, that position comes at a price; people expect a lot of us, and when you’re put on a pedestal it’s very easy to be knocked off it. If any doctor or nurse is thought poorly of, that can have a knock on effect on the whole profession, even if the reasons aren’t entirely justified. It extends I don’t think there’s a lack of interest in healthcare, though I suspect that interest could be higher. Now that going to university is much more expensive. In the UK; it’s gone up from being free about 10 years before I went to university. Tuition was £1000 per year the year before I started university. In my time at university it was £3,000 a year, now it’s over £9,000 a year. That change happened in the space of about ten or so years. The government didn’t even wait a couple of years to see if my generation, the first with fees of £3K, could even afford to pay that back. Students are going to have to think more carefully about what they choose to study, and how to shape their career. By getting rid of the nursing bursary, I do think that some people were put off studying nursing; applicant numbers are objectively down. I don’t know if increasing the number of places available to study nursing would even help, becase I’m not sure that all the current places are being filled. Nursing and medicine also suffer from the reality that though there will almost always be work of some sort, it may not be where you want to go. Jobs are sprinkled throughout the UK, through cities and towns right down to small villages. Whilst working in and around London remains competitive, relatively few people want to uproot themselves to a village on the other side of the UK; therefore the most likely people who’d want to work there might be locals, or foreign-trained staff who are starting afresh with few friends and family anyway and are happy to work there. A lot of people who are from the UK already have roots; they might not want to uproot themselves to a village on the other end of the UK, and that’s OK. But it leaves a situation where some places will always have less people applying because they are remote. The foundation training system combats this by forcing us as junior doctors to rank EVERY possible part of the UK; do badly and you could get sent to the outer Hebrides or Northern Ireland or wherever your last choice was. You can choose to refuse that job, but then you’ll have to wait months, maybe a year, to reapply. But you can’t do that throughout training; after foundation training we have the choice of where we apply and if we continue at all. In reality, a lot of systems are probably propped up by foreign labour; the fact that there will always be lots of people willing to move to Western countries to fill the gap. This is usually advantageous for the receiving country; they take none of the cost of training highly skilled staff and receive a ready-made workforce. However, it’s a huge burden on the training country; their system will have to pay to train more people, only to find that probably more of them will flee abroad. Unfortunately, in the long run this isn’t an ethical situatioin; we shouldn’t be causing a ‘brain drain’ on other nations in order to staff our healthcare service. We, as the NHS rely a LOT on foreign labour; on people trained abroad. On doctors from Pakistan, nurses from the Philippines and Ireland, and on both doctors and nurses (and let’s be honest, domestic staff, catering staff etc) coming from the EU in recent years. This wasn’t usually a problem, but now the government have started making it harder for even people offered good jobs (because those posts were lying empty) even as doctors and nurses, to be allowed visas to work here. Many recent stories suggest that government policies are trying to make it fundamentaly harder for anyone to come here, or to remain if they are already here. I have friends whose choices were complicated by whether the government would let them stay to work as doctors, and know people who had to leave because their visas would not be extended, despite having secured a job and paying taxes. The government may want to show its more conservative voters smaller immigration numbers, but at what cost if we’re making it impossible for the health service to hire the people it needs? As the government make it harder and harder for overseas doctors and nurses to be employed, staffing will drop further. And there’s evidence to suggest that more of our staff who came from the EU are leaving. Create a culture of hostility towards foreign workers, and they will feel unwelcome and decide to go somewhere else. When it comes to med schools, I used to get the impression that the number of graduates are enough; there used to be a good chance of getting an FY1 post when you applied, even despite a number of foreign applicants. I think that’s still probably true. If we don’t have enough FY1s, then yes, increasing the number of places to study medicine would be helpful. However, for further up the ladder it gets… more complex. Medicine is heirarchal and based on years of experience. So if you are short of SHOs or registars, having lots of FY1s won’t help you in the near future (though it might help you in the long term). And if you increase the number of trainees in general, you’ll have to make sure you increase the number of FY1, FY2 etc posts all the way up. You can’t just ‘find’ ready made GPs or consultants, or even registrars; either you get them from abroad, or else you have to train them ALL the way up. Otherwise, you’d be dooming a bunch of people to pay £9K for 5-6 years through med school only to tell them that there aren’t enough places for them to start working as a doctor, I feel that would be unfair. Granted, they might well find work elsewhere, but it’d waste both our money as students and as a society to do that, given that studies are subsidised by the government. So you need a balance.In all honesty, it’s always going to be difficult if you’ve got a leaky pipeline; the system may be set up to deal with a certain amount of staff lost but if the pressure is too high, you’re still probably going to lose too many people. And the people we are losing, they aren’t comparable to the shiny new graduates med schools pop out; it’ll take years for them to be comparable in experience to the SHOs and registrars we are losing. The doctors in the middle; worn down by the system and realising life is just too short to be miserable. Many of these people really wanted to be doctors, and many would probably have remained if conditions were different. Whilst some of us realise that we just weren’t cut out to be in healthcare, or that perhaps what we want and need has changed, I feel that many struggle with leaving precisely because some part of them loves medicine, even if it is making them ill. Occasionally, some smartass politician suggests tying in doctors to work in the NHS for a set number of years, but I don’t think this’d be either helpful or desirable. Medicine, due to the pressures and situations faced, is a field with a higher than normal rate of mental illness and suicide. It’s a risky field with significant effects on our health as a group. I’d go so far as to suggest than anyone who forces those who feel they need to leave, to stay against their will would soon have blood on their hands. The people I know who left medicine did so for their mental health, and if they were not allowed to leave, I’d be very concerned that they might risk a more… final way of leaving. I don’t believe anyone should be bound to a job they can’t stand or which makes them ill. I also think that it would do the field more harm than good; rather than showing medicine to be a desirable job, it would suggest that it is so bad that you have to force everyone to stay. With prospects like that, who would want to join? When you could be a vet, be a dentist, be any number of things where you aren’t forced to do it against your will. The key is to improve conditions so that people want to stay, and can stay without destroying their health and mental wellbeing. So that people feel valued, and respected, and feel that their issues with the health service have been taken on board. That those who are running the service understand the issues we raise and the problems we face That, for me, is the only real longterm solution. but I fear that it might be too expensive, and that few would care enough to try.
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where there is no Echo
Title: where there is no Echo Fandom: SHINee Pairings: Jongyu Wordcount: 12k Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Illness, homophobia, character death (set before the fic), discussion of suicide (set before the fic) Summary: In which Jongin’s older brother is sick.
This is the first of the WIPs I will be posting over the next little bit. Please pay attention to the warnings.
note: I did my best to get almost everything in this fic to at least stage 2 of my outlining process (though I think one section may be at stage 1). That means there are no gaps in this fic. There are definitely areas where the plot is glossed over, where it’s not formatted into a full fic, but there’s about 10k of full-on fic and a few sections later where I formatted it into a very loose shape of what the future paragraphs would be. I’m sad to think that this will never be a fic, but even the editing of this killed me, and I don’t imagine I could write the whole thing.
That said, I will repeat: please pay attention to the warnings. Thank you all so much for your support and I appreciate all of you. <3
“Look, it's not I'm trying to avoid anything,” Jinki defends himself, shifting the phone he has pinned between his shoulder and his ear. It slides dangerously, threatening to fall, and he hisses a note of panic, throwing his hand up to catch it and stabbing himself in the cheek with his pen. Moaning weakly, he scrubs at the spot, more than a little glad that his roommate isn't there to tease him for this not-so-uncommon show of grace. Unfortunately, on the other end of the line, his cousin is already snickering at him softly.
Jinki sighs. “I want to come home,” he goes on, though how true that is when he's being laughed at is questionable, “but it's just not feasible right now. I have exams to study for, and I barely have enough money to buy food. I just can't afford the week off or the money it would take to get there. I'm sorry, Tae. If it was possible...”
“You know mom would give you money if you asked,” Taemin protests, a pout of his own evident in his voice. Jinki can imagine him without effort, sitting in the center of his bed, his long hair pulled into a high ponytail and his lips curled down at the edges as he sulks into the phone. His cellphone model actually has a speakerphone that works, but he probably hasn't remembered to use it, so he'll be leaning in close to the phone as he whines, “Just come home. You know she'd give you enough to get here. She misses you. We both do.”
Jinki sighs again. He really does miss them both terribly, and it's such a tempting offer, the thought of getting to go home and see him making his resolve waver. But, “I don't need the money though, and I don't want to do that to Auntie. She works hard enough.”
“But hyung,” Taemin whines, “I--”
“No 'buts', Taemin,” Jinki cuts him off. He feels mean, but he also knows that if Taemin keeps talking, he'll give in eventually, and he doesn't want to do that. “It's spring break, not the end of the world.”
There's silence for a long moment, and Jinki wonders if Taemin is giving him the silent treatment -- he honestly wouldn't put it past him. But then the younger takes a deep breath, the sound sending a static buzz across the microphone as if to confirm Jinki's mental image. “It's just really lonely here.”
“Oh, Tae...” Jinki sets his pen down and switches the phone to his other ear, fixing his attention more fully on Taemin. Maybe he can't spare a whole week to visit his cousin, but he can most definitely spare a couple of minutes to talk to him properly. At very least he can do that.
Taemin is his entire world most days, and that's only recently changed. By recently, he means when he moved to college, because up until then, it had only been the two of them.
Living out in the country hadn't been a bad way to grow up, not by a long shot, but it had been a little lonely. Most of the other occupants of their town were older couples, their children moved on into the city with their own jobs, and while of course that had meant that he and Taemin had been adored and doted by older grandmotherly types, it also meant that there just weren't any other children to play with.
It wasn't a good place for kids to grow up, really, but his aunt had tried hard. It had to have been hard to have taken on a child that wasn't her own when she was already struggling with bills and raising her own child. Jinki understood now exactly how much she had done for him, but at the time he had been a confused child, struggling with the loss of his mother and struggling harder to understand exactly why he had been left with a woman who he had only met a few times and a toddler who wasn't old enough to keep him company and cried all the time.
Jinki understood now that it had been the only option, but he had been a lonely child until Taemin was old enough to keep him company.
Once Taemin was older though, grown enough to really spend time with him, they had been inseparable. It had been the two of them against the world; Taemin had looked up to him with some kind of hero worship, and Jinki had adored him. Even when the two of them were old enough to be driven almost an hour the nearest public middle school, exposed to more children around, they hadn't really bothered to befriend the other children.
Or, rather, Taemin had been too busy defending himself from the incessant accusations of him being gay to try and actually make friends with the people sneering at him and whispering behind his back, and Jinki had been furious and unwilling to speak to anyone who would dare make fun of Taemin.
He had tried his best to defend him, of course, but it was hard. Despite Taemin being the one to fit all the ridiculous high school stereotypes -- long hair, delicate features, an interest in dance, and the frame to suit it – Taemin isn't gay. But Jinki is, and Taemin refused to let him risk transferring all the torment to himself. Jinki was the smart one, Taemin had insisted despite Jinki’s protests, the one who had always been going on to bigger and better things.
But now that he has, graduated with honors and moved to the city for university, he's left Taemin alone in a small town and a high school where people tease him, and Jinki feels awful for it. He feels even worse for denying him when all he's asking for is some company. Jinki is five and a half hours away from him studying day and night. If nothing else, Jinki owes Taemin a little while to talk to him.
“Tae, I'm sorry,” Jinki apologizes after a long minute of silence. “I'll be home for the summer. If I can pass all of my exams, I won't have any summer classes, and then I'll be home for months while you're out of class.”
“I have to study during the summer, hyung,” Taemin reminds him, but there's something in his voice that Jinki thinks might be a smile. “And I have dance classes.”
“I'll help you then!” Jinki offers, smiling back. “And I'll come watch you dance. It'll be like old times.”
Taemin laughs into the phone and Jinki exhales a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, leaning back in his chair. More than ever now, he wishes that he was going home to visit Taemin for break, because he's been so stressed out about everything that just taking a moment to speak to his cousin makes him feel more relaxed than he's been in weeks. So much so that when Taemin laughs, “God, I hope not. I've gotten tons better this year,” Jinki giggles so hard that he falls backwards out of his chair.
It's just in time for his roommate to walk in and see him sprawled on the floor, but the guy merely rolls his eyes before going to drop into his bed and grab his laptop. Jinki blushes pink and picks himself up and then the phone in time to hear Taemin ask, “Hyung, are you okay?”
“Fine,” he says, stretching out his leg with a wince. “Just not as graceful as you. I'm glad your dancing is going well!”
Taemin laughs again. “Yeah, well, we got a new student, who's actually really nice. We've been practicing together, so...”
“New student?” Jinki asks with interest, perking up. Taemin groans at his tone of voice, but Jinki's too excited to listen to the clear note of fond protest in Taemin's voice. “Is she cute?”
“He, hyung,” Taemin says with a laugh. “And yeah, I guess so, but you know that's more your scene than mine.”
“That's fair,” Jinki chuckles, “Does he live close?”
“You're not hitting on my dance partner, hyung!” Taemin protests, “He's like five years younger than you!”
“I don't want to hit on your dance partner. I'm pretty sure you'll have him corrupted by the summer anyways. I just meant so that you might have some company.”
It stifles the amusement a little, reminding them both of exactly how this conversation started. Taemin's laughter tapers off into a soft noncommittal sound. “His family lives in an apartment in the city right now. They're trying to find somewhere nice, but they haven't gotten a good place yet.”
“Ah,” Jinki says, smiling sympathetically, “Maybe they'll move in close and you won't be so lonely. It'll be okay, Taeminnie.”
“Don't call me that,” Taemin whines, but he sounds pleased. After a minute, he adds, “I miss you, hyung.”
“I know, Tae,” Jinki sighs, and then catches the glare from his roommate. Right. His roommate can't sleep while there's talking. “I miss you too. And I'll talk to you later, okay?”
“Yes, hyung,” Taemin says, and there's an almost dejected creak from his mattress as he moves around.
Jinki frowns. “I really do.”
“I know. Later, hyung.”
“Later, Tae,” he whispers, but the phone line is already dead. Sighing, he plugs his cellphone in to charge and crawls into his own bed just in time for his roommate to switch out the lights, shift around for a minute, and promptly start snoring softly.
Rolling over, Jinki realizes that he might be just as lonely as Taemin.
--
Homework swamps him over the next few weeks, and Jinki honestly does spend most of his spring break in the school library. He also spends the weeks after that, and before he knows it, he's answering the phone to his cousin's voice for the first time since they spoke since before spring break, and it's to Taemin's greeting of, “Happy Easter, hyung!”
Jinki blinks at his calendar for a long minute, shocked and appalled. How on earth is it Easter already? The weeks have flown by, and Jinki realizes that in all his preparations for his upcoming finals, he hasn't really had time for anyone else lately. The thought makes his stomach churn uncomfortably. “Happy Easter, Tae. How's it going?”
“Oh, you know,” Taemin replies, and his voice isn't nearly as upset as Jinki would have expected considering that Jinki's practically been MIA for the last for weeks. In fact, he sounds almost giddy when he adds, “Pretty good!”
“Pretty good?” Jinki repeats, dubiously. It's not that he's not happy that Taemin is happy, but it's just strange when it wasn’t that long ago that Taemin was begging him to come home and confessing in that trembling voice how lonely he was. Still, Jinki's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth over this. He grins, knowing Taemin will be able to tell the expression in his words. “Okay, I'll bite. What happened?”
“Free chocolate isn't enough?” Taemin laughs, but he's quick to add, “You remember that friend I met in dance class? He moved in!”
“Moved in?” Jinki asks, bewildered. “Moved in where?”
“The old house a few blocks over. The one that's been for sale forever,” Taemin says, and then giggles. “You know, the one that we used to say was haunted?”
“Taem, tell me you didn't tell your new friend that he lives in a house full of ghosts!” Jinki admonishes, thoroughly ruining it with a laugh of his own.
Taemin snorts into the phone. “Of course not, hyung. What do you take me for? I told him about the brutal murder-suicide in the attic and let him draw him own conclusions.”
“Taemin!” Jinki says, scandalized, and then pauses for a moment before asking, “Does that house even have an attic?”
“I dunno,” Taemin shrugs. “I don't think so, but I mean, Jonginnie's pretty gullible.”
“Jonginnie, huh? You sure you're not interested in him that way?”
“Hyung!” Taemin yells, and it's his turn to sound scandalized.
Jinki laughs until he can't breathe, and Taemin keeps protesting into the phone until it's time to pass it over to his mother. Jinki greets his aunt warmly, and she does the same thing, telling him about her promotion at her work.
“Now that Taeminnie has a friend,” she says honestly, in that furtive voice that means Taemin is nearby and she’s trying not to let him hear, “I'm not so worried about leaving him to take care of himself.”
“You should be. Now he's just corrupting an innocent,” Jinki laughs.
“Well then,” his aunt counters, “you'll just have to come home and stop him.”
Jinki sighs, clearly caught. “Summer vacation starts in a few weeks. I'll be home then.”
“You better,” she threatens, her voice soft. “It's not the same around here without you.”
“Sorry, Auntie,” he apologizes. “I miss you both, and I'll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay, Jinki. We'll see you soon.”
Jinki hangs up, rubbing his eyes slowly. Taemin has a friend now, but that doesn't make Jinki feel any less worn out, any less eager to get back to his family. He buries himself back in his studying, losing himself in flash cards and facts until his roommate wakes him up with a loud clearing of his throat, prompting Jinki to jerk up in alarm from where his head was laid down on his desk. “You need the light?”
“Oh, uh,” Jinki replies, “no. You can turn it--”
It's off before he finishes his sentence, and Jinki has to feel his way to his bed in the dark.
--
“So, uh,” Jinki says awkwardly, scuffing his foot along the carpet. His bags are in his car, his books have been returned to the school, he has his laptop bag slung over his shoulder, and he's staring across the dorm room at his roommate who is packing up a few more things and not really looking at Jinki. Jinki feels more than a little uncomfortable. “It's been fun.”
“Yeah, sure,” his roommate says, batting his hand in the air. “It's been a real riot, Joonki.”
“It's Jin... you know what, nevermind.” He rolls his shoulders for a second. “I'll see you around.”
He doesn't get a response this time, and he sighs softly, ducking his head as he walks out of the dorm. It's probably the last time he'll see his roommate, considering the size of their campus. Maybe he should feel a little bad, but considering that conversation, he can't say he does. Instead, he scoops his phone out of his pocket and punches in Taemin's number.
It rings a couple of times, and Jinki feels his heart plummet with the thought that Taemin isn't going to answer him. Then the phone clicks and Jinki's assaulted with the sound of music, the bass pounding through the speakers loud enough that he has to pull the phone away from his ear. He's glad he did, because a second later, Taemin is literally screaming into the phone, his voice loud as he hollers, “Hyung? Are you home?!”
Jinki laughs. “Could you even hear me if I was going to say 'yes'?”
He almost doubles over when Taemin's only response is, “What? I can't hear you!”
“Turn down the music, Tae!” Jinki shouts back, earning himself a couple of weird looks from the other students packing up their things to head home for the summer.
“Hold on, hyung,” Taemin says, quieter now, but still too loud, “Jonginnie, turn the music down!”
The music quiets a bit, and Jinki smiles slightly. “You're with Jongin? Are you sure you two are not--”
“Hyung,” Taemin says, and he sounds so honestly mortified that Jinki is actually genuinely taken aback. “I mean,” Taemin adds after a second, “no. You know I'm not--”
“Okay,” Jinki says, holding up his free hand in mock surrender, even if he knows Taemin can't see it. “Okay, I get it. But if I get home and you two are engaged, don't say I didn't tell you so.”
“So you're not home yet?” Taemin asks, and his voice has a little bit of a pout in it.
“No, not yet,” Jinki apologizes, “But I'm on my way. Give me a few hours and I'll be there, okay?”
“Okay,” Taemin chirrups, “I'll see you in a few hours.”
“Alright, Tae,” Jinki says, climbing into his car. “Bye.”
For once, after a conversation with his cousin, he doesn't feel guilty or lonely, and he hums happily under his breath as he tosses his laptop bag and his cellphone into the passenger seat and heads for home. It's a long drive, admittedly, and he remembers about halfway there exactly why he didn't want to do this for spring break, but he has the entire summer now. He'll have some studying to do to keep up with his work, but mostly it'll be free time and getting to spend time with someone who actually remembers his name.
--
Also, apparently, someone who he's never met before, Jinki realizes as he pulls up outside his house a couple of hours later. The sun is starting to dip toward the horizon, and Jinki has to squint into it as he pulls up the street, so he's not entirely sure whether he's going crazy or not when he sees someone suspiciously similar to his cousin standing right next to Taemin, but when he gets out of the car, he just lifts an eyebrow.
Taemin is beaming, long hair tied up in the loose bun that says he's been dancing, and he bounces up and throws sweaty arms around Jinki's shoulders with a grin. Behind him is what appears to be Taemin if he grew a couple of centimeters, got a tan, and cut his hair short. Jinki blinks, and then remembers to make a face of disgust and shrug Taemin off with a soft, “Ugh, Taemin, that's disgusting. Go take a shower.”
“It's nice to see you too, hyung!” Taemin chirps, clinging on closer with an impish grin. “How was the drive home?”
“Long,” Jinki admits. “What's with the good twin?”
“Wait, why am I the good twin?” The boy speaks up, looking bemused. He tilts his head to one side and stops looking quite as much like Taemin, mostly because he now looks a little like a bewildered puppy.
Jinki smiles at him. “Jongin, I presume? Right, well, you should know Taemin well enough at this point to know that he's certainly not.”
“That's...” Jongin starts and then stops and shrugs, “That's fair.”
Jinki laughs while Taemin pulls away from him to frown at his new friend. “You’re a traitor. You’re a traitor, and I don’t need you now that hyung is home.”
The sentence actually takes Jinki aback, and he blinks rapidly, eyebrows knitting and mouth pursing into a tight line. He isn’t sure whether to tell off Taemin first or apologize to Jongin, and so he stands there for a moment, totally off guard.
Jongin bursts into laughter, the kind that makes his mouth gape open and his upper body bounce with the force of it. Next to him, Taemin beams, covering the expression with his hand like that might help hide the fact that his complaint has now turned to nothing but smiles and happiness. Jinki hasn’t seen his cousin this happy in a very long time, and Jinki reaches out without thinking to squeeze his shoulder, a smile on his lips. He’s glad to be home.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jongin,” he says, voice all honestly. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“Nah, I’ve got to get home. I was just walking back with Taemin after practice, and he insisted I wait here until you got here so I could meet you. He's told me a lot about you, hyung.”
Jongin’s smile is sweet, and Jinki nods a little approvingly. Taemin, however, pouts. “Jonginnie, stay. Mom won’t mind, you know. She always says you’re welcome.”
“No, no, it’s alright!” Jongin rubs at the back of his neck a little. “I’ve got to get home. It’s not every night your cousin gets home. This should be a family thing. Besides,” he adds quickly to abate the protest Taemin has just opened his mouth to add, “I’ve got summer school work to catch up on, you know? Moving put me behind, and I don’t want to be a grade behind you just because I’m struggling with some math.”
“Jinki-hyung is great at math! He could help you catch up!” Taemin says, like it’s some kind of bartering system, and Jinki lifts an eyebrow at him for volunteering his services without asking.
Jongin just blinks at him though, suddenly looking a little shy, and asks, “Could you, hyung? I’m just kind of confused by some of it, and I don’t want to repeat a year when I know I could wrap my head around it with a little more practice.”
Jinki caves. Either Taemin has taught Jongin the tricks of the trade for getting Jinki to give in to things or Jongin just naturally has that hopeful puppy look, but either way, it doesn’t bode well for Jinki if Taemin and Jongin ever team up on him.
“Sure, Jongin. It’s not a problem,” he agrees. “Just not tonight? I’m a little tired from the drive.”
“No! No, of course not, hyung!” Jongin says, grinning brightly. “Just whenever you get settled in!”
Jongin and Taemin both look far too excited about this, Taemin’s mouth a proud little smirk like he somehow just brokered the world’s greatest peace treaty instead of some strange tutoring session for his best friend. Jinki fights not to roll his eyes, just grabs the essentials out of his car and tosses them at his cousin’s face. “Help me carry these in?”
--
To his credit, Jinki only breaks two things while moving back in, and that plate had been on its last legs before he even left, so he can’t really be blamed for that. Also to his credit, in the same amount of time, Taemin loses his cellphone (twice), three different hair ties, and somehow, mysteriously, his left shoe. Jinki figures they all have their vices.
It takes him three or fours days, mostly because he keeps getting derailed by the requests to spend quality time with both Taemin and his aunt, who, while her job takes her away a lot, makes a concerted effort to be home for dinner every night, even if that dinner is take-out. Taemin volunteers to cook, but he’s shot down extremely quickly.
Jongin shows up for at least a couple of hours a day, usually to hang out with Taemin, though sometimes he ends up helping Jinki move things, smiling at him and claiming to “really want to help, hyung!” when prompted. He’s a good kid, Jinki decides, and so, when he’s finally finished unpacking, he figures he owes it to Jongin not to put it off anymore, even if he really doesn’t want to do any more math.
Still, high school math can’t be as bad as college level calculus courses, he figures.
He’s wrong.
It’s not that the numbers are harder – if nothing else, Jinki breezes through the equations once he’s got them figures out. It’s that somehow, somewhere along the line, someone hired a batman super villain to write the word problems that Jongin shows him from his workbook. It takes way longer than it should just to figure out what the questions want him to figure out, and usually there’s at least one completely unnecessary number in there to throw him off, because why just teach math when they can easily throw advanced problem-solving into the mix, just in case the students had strange film noire aspirations to their lives.
Jinki doesn’t say any of this though. No reason to discourage Jongin. Instead, he casually mentions maybe not doing all of this today and coming around to help out a lot more. “Easier to do an hour or two a couple of times a week than try and cram it all into a few days and get frustrated, right?” he offers in his gentlest voice.
The look Taemin gives him from the chair across Jongin's living room tells him he’s fooling no one, but Jongin lights up hopefully. “Would you? God, it’d be great not to have to sit down and do five or six hours of math at a time.”
“Of course. And,” he adds, because Taemin has upgraded from giving him a look to giving him a look, and Jinki wants to discourage that right now, “it might make it a little easier to get through if you’re not getting frustrated after a couple of hours.”
“Yeah,” Jongin admits, looking sheepish again. It’s not an uncommon look for him, Jinki’s learning. “I just can’t sit still for a long time or I get really sleepy, you know? It’s like –“
Jongin stops abruptly, though even if he had gone on, Jinki would have missed it. His head has already snapped around to look up towards the ceiling, the loud thumping noise like something falling making him jump a little. For half a second, Jinki has some weird flashback to him and Taemin joking about this house being haunted, but that’s ridiculous. Besides, Jongin looks more concerned than confused, like he knows very well where the noise is coming from.
“Hyung?” He calls loudly, and there’s a long stretch of silence. Jinki almost jumps when it’s broken by the trill of Jongin’s phone going off. It’s sitting right between them on the table, and Jinki catches a glimpse of the name 'Hyung~ ^^' before Jongin picks it up and swipes the screen, greeting, “Hyung, are you okay?”
Jinki can hear what’s said, but it’s obviously not good because Jongin tenses a little and starts to get up. Across from them, Taemin shakes his head. “Jonginnie’s brother is really sick,” he tells Jinki in a quiet voice. “He doesn’t leave his room a whole lot. It’s why they moved out here – the doctors said the fresh air would be good for him, even if it’s a little further from the hospital. Don’t know if fresh air helps when he doesn’t get outside much, but…”
He shrugs loosely, and Jinki glances at Jongin, but he’s absorbed in the phonecall, saying, “Hyung, if you fell on the way to the bathroom, I can come help… No, I get that, but… Mom’s going to be really upset if you got hurt because…”
It sounds like he’s getting refused at every turn, because he sits back down slowly, protests getting quieter by the minute. Finally he sighs out, “Okay, but if you need me, text me. I’ll be right up.”
He hangs up the phone and sets it down, looking worried. Jinki frowns, empathy stirring up feelings of sadness in his chest. He pats Jongin’s arm quietly, the same as he would for Taemin. “Do you need to go help him?”
“No, he says he’s fine,” Jongin sighs, giving no sign that he’s even remotely upset by Taemin telling Jinki what’s going on. “My mom’s a little overprotective, and he gets upset after a while. Says that he’s sick, but he’s not an invalid. It’s just…”
Jongin shakes his head a little and then shrugs. Taemin reaches out and squeezes his friend’s arm. “It’ll be fine. Do you need to skip dance practice this afternoon to keep an eye out for him?”
“No, my mom will be home,” Jongin says, shaking his head. “We’re good. Can we finish up these two pages maybe?”
It’s an abrupt change of subject, but Jinki’s more than willing to give into it. He probably hadn’t wanted to talk about his mom a lot there at the end either.
“Okay,” he says instead, pointing at a problem, “So they’re looking for which of these could be the total price amount of the coins you have, and you have a ratio of 4:3 with a total of 14 coins…”
Jinki squints at the word problem in exasperation, Jongin looking completely at a loss, and Taemin stands up abruptly, fishing out a handful of coins from his pocket and dumping them out on the table. They’re still laughing and rearranging the money when Jongin’s mother comes home and Jongin and Taemin rush up to Jongin’s room to change into dance clothes.
Jinki smiles after them and introduces himself to the woman as he cleans up Taemin’s money and organizes the workbooks they’d been pouring over. It kind of surprises him when he finds himself being greeted warmly and told to come over any time he’d like, that Taemin is practically a third son at this point and that Jinki is more than welcome any time.
It makes Jinki’s heart swell to hear such good things about Taemin, especially when his cousin rushes back downstairs with Jongin in tow and whines, “Hyung, come on. We’re going to be late!” like that’s Jinki’s fault.
“It was nice to meet you,” Jinki says with another bow as he shoves Taemin’s coins into his pocket to return them when Taemin is once more wearing an outfit with pockets. He gets tugged out of the door before he gets a response, and shakes his head as Taemin and Jongin have a brief scuffle over the passenger seat of Jinki’s car.
Looking back at Jongin’s house, he pauses for a moment at the sight of a short boy in one of the windows, blinking down at them with a look that tugs at Jinki’s heartstrings. He gets distracted when the scuffle ends with Taemin knocking into him, and by the time he looks back, the boy is gone from the window. Jinki stares a moment longer before banishing both of the boys to the back seat under threat of rescinding his offer to drive both of them to dance.
--
It’s the next Tuesday before Jinki has a real chance to go over and help Jongin again, mostly because Taemin coaxes him into taking him into the city over the weekend. It’s not a big deal, really, but they spend most of the day window shopping, visiting arcades, and getting ice cream. It’s all those things that they both wished they could do all the time when Jinki was still in high school, and getting to do them now is nice.
Nice is also more than a little exhausting though, and they spend Sunday recovering, playing video games in their boxers with the blinds drawn and only stumbling downstairs for dinner when Taemin’s mom gets home.
Monday is another lazy day, though this one is because there’s really nothing much to do; Jongin and his family are in in the city this time. There’s probably no ice cream and window shopping though, because Taemin points out that if they’re in the city then they’re probably at the hospital for Jongin’s brother.
That makes Jinki’s stomach drop hard and fast, but Taemin just shakes his head. “He has checkups, like, all the time. Every couple of weeks or so. They’re pretty much trying to just keep an eye on him.”
“Right,” Jinki says, though it doesn’t help any, and when they walk over to Jongin’s on Tuesday for Jinki to help Jongin with his math, he pauses for an extra moment outside, looking up at the window where he had seen the boy looking out. All the rooms upstairs are dark though, and when Jongin opens the door, he explains why.
“Hyung’s sleeping,” he says, voice hushed. “He’s been kind of worn out lately.”
“Do you want to do this another day?” Jinki asks, because he doesn’t want to disturb the sick boy. “It’s fine if you’d rather wait.”
Jongin shakes his head. “No, honestly, it's fine. We just can’t be super loud or anything.”
They follow Jongin into the living room where he has his math books set out along with some spare papers and a few pencils. He starts to sit down and then seems to think better of it, looking at them both and asking, “Do you want anything to drink?”
“I’ll take a beer,” Taemin says in such a deadpan voice that Jinki glances at him for a moment.
“Okay, so you want a soda,” Jongin says in a voice just as deadpan, and then looks to Jinki. “And for you, hyung?”
“Soda would be great, thanks,” Jinki replies, taking a seat, and opens the math book to begin looking over it and making sure he knows what he’s talking about.
Taemin follows Jongin into the kitchen to get drinks for them, the two of them chatting in hushed, amiable voices that Jinki can’t quite make out. It’s nice background noise, and Jinki hums softly to himself as he listens to their quiet voices from the other room, eyes skimming the words. He hears them come back in the room, jostling each other and still talking away, and he looks up to smile and take the drink from Jongin’s hand only to watch in a kind of helpless horror as Taemin knocks against Jongin a bit too roughly, liquid sloshing from the glass he’s offering and spilling sticky across Jinki’s hand and arm, dripping down onto the table as well.
“Oh my god, hyung, I’m so sorry,” Jongin fumbles out at once, wide-eyed and red-faced, jerking away and ending up spilling more soda across the table. From behind him, Taemin snorts with laughter, and both of them glare at the long-haired boy, Jongin hissing out a, “Shut the hell up, Taemin.”
“Jongin, it’s fine,” Jinki says, trying to be kind, because Jongin looks frankly mortified. “It’ll wash out. Just, where’s your bathroom?”
“Oh, god, uhm, it’s… upstairs and to the left. Or, no, second door on the left. Yeah. First one’s a closet, and… should I, uhm, show you, or…?”
“I’m sure I can find it, Jongin,” Jinki says, trying to be as patient as he can. “You might want to clean this up, though…”
“Right, yes, okay,” Jongin says, and rushes towards the kitchen to, presumably, get something to clean up with.
Taemin watches him go, reaching down and plucking Jongin’s math book away from the mess, and Jinki shakes his head for a second and then heads upstairs, taking them as quietly as he can.
The bathroom is easy to find and loosely decorated, the soap dispenser matching the shower curtain and the towels, though both of those are hanging loosely and unfolded from the rack, making it clear they’ve been used recently. It’s a typical bathroom for a teenage boy, and Jinki finds himself smiling slightly as he turns on the tap and starts scrubbing at his hands and arm, trying to wash the soda out of the sleeve of his shirt.
When he’s gotten it mostly out, to the point where it won’t be troublesome when he goes to wash it, he looks around, fishing for a hand towel of some sort. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something, and when he turns his head, he sees two faces in the mirror, another boy standing behind him in the doorway.
Jinki nearly jumps out of his skin, whirling around with a gasp. “Who…?”
The boy in the doorway blinks at him slowly. “You’re new,” he says, voice soft and light. He has light blond hair and a puppyish face, eyes a little dark like he doesn’t get a whole lot of rest. He’s wearing a thick, soft-looking sweater, fingers curled into it in a clear sign that he’s cold. Jinki can understand that; the air conditioning is running full-blast up here, making the upstairs seem a lot colder than the relatively comfortable downstairs. Still, it seems like a weird thing to be wearing mid-summer, and Jinki hesitates a moment, especially when the boy raises an eyebrow. “You’re… one of, uh, Jongin’s friends, right?”
“Y-yeah,” Jinki says, a little taken aback, and then he remembers the boy he had seen in the window only a few days ago. Jongin’s brother. Jongin had said he was sleeping, but he’d obviously woken up. “I’m Jinki.”
“Jonghyun,” the boy says, sounding almost nervous now. He must not meet very many new people. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Jinki answers, smiling politely. “Sorry, you just startled me.”
“Yeah, I, uh… I get that a lot,” Jonghyun says with a shrug. “I didn’t really think you’d notice me, but…”
“Well, you were standing in the doorway. It was a little hard to miss,” Jinki points out, and Jonghyun hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t reply. After a second, Jinki adds, “I’m sorry. Did you need the bathroom?”
“Oh, uh,” Jonghyun says, looking like this has just occurred to him, “yeah. Thanks.”
“No problem,” Jinki says with a smile. “I’ll just get out of your way.”
He twists off the tap and settles for drying his hands on his pants, figuring no one will really care. Then he edges past Jonghyun who’s still standing in the doorway and makes his way back downstairs.
Jongin has the soda cleaned up, but he starts in on apologies the second Jinki’s back in the room, and Jinki has to shake his head a little and wave them off with a, “Jongin, it was an accident. And Taemin’s fault if anything. It’ll come out in the wash. Let’s just work on your math, alright?”
Taemin looks offended, putting his hand to his chest like Jinki has deeply wounded him, and Jongin snickers softly and agrees. Leaning in, Jinki starts in on the math with Jongin, not even thinking to mention that Jonghyun is up and about until a while later when Jongin’s mother gets home and asks Jongin how his brother’s doing. Still, it’s been a while, and Jonghyun’s probably gone back to bed, so Jinki lets it lie.
He and Taemin decline Jongin’s mother’s offer of dinner, saying that they need to get home, and they head out soon after, leaving Jongin with his family. Jinki glances over his shoulder out of habit and sees Jonghyun blinking at him from one of the windows. He waves tentatively, and Jonghyun takes a second and then waves back.
“What are you doing, hyung?” Taemin asks, already headed down the street without him. “Come on! Mom’s home, and she said she’s making something good for dinner tonight.”
“I’m coming,” Jinki replies and strides after his cousin, looking back once more to see Jongyhun staring after him.
--
It becomes kind of a routine after a couple of weeks. Fridays are dance for the two younger boys, so Jinki helps Jongin with his math then and then takes the both of them to their class in the evenings. Tuesdays are also set aside to help Jongin struggle through the mess of numbers he has to deal with. The rest of the week is kind of a give-or-take thing, and more often than not, the other days of the week find Jongin with Taemin at every possible moment, thus meaning that Jinki sees quite a bit of the boy. Eventually, after a few weeks, Jongin stops being so shy and openly extends the invitation for Jinki to come hang out at his house as well.
Jinki doesn’t mind doing so, though he doesn’t have the same thing for video games that the two younger boys do. Or, rather, he does, but he tends to lounge on the couch and play games on his phone while the two boys argue playfully and shoot each others’ characters in the face, even when they’re on the same team.
Jinki hasn’t seen any more of Jonghyun so far, but Jongin mentioned something about going to the city every Monday now, citing, “Hyung’s been a lot more tired recently. The doctors say the move just took it out of him and it’ll be a while for him to get back on his feet, but… I dunno, they say a lot of things.”
He sounds moderately sad about it, but he’s also kind of accepting, like he’s been dealing with this for a long time. Jinki thinks it’s probably hard for Jongin to deal with, but, of course, it’s probably hard for Jonghyun as well. He’s the one who’s sick after all.
Jinki doesn’t say either one of those things. Instead he gets up quietly while the younger boys argue over who gets to have a certain type of gun and wanders upstairs towards the bathroom.
He hadn’t been meaning to creep on anyone, but when he finds a door open, he can't help but poke his head in. It’s empty, bed neatly made, curtains drawn. It feels a little sterile actually, unlived in, and for some reason it makes Jinki squirm, a chill going down his spine.
Maybe this is a guest room? There are other doors along the hallway, all closed, and those could easily be bedrooms for two boys. Maybe –
“So you’re here a lot now, huh?” A voice interrupts his thoughts.
Jinki jumps about a mile high, heart starting to thunder in his chest. How he had missed Jonghyun sitting in a chair in the corner, he has no idea, but the boy just scared this shit out of him. Jinki presses his palm to his chest, trying to make sure he’s not having a heart attack or something. “S-sorry,” he fumbles out. “I didn’t mean—“
“You’re fine,” Jonghyun says with a shrug, getting up out of the chair soundlessly and moving to lean against the wall nearer Jinki instead. “I’m not mad that you’re in here or anything. The door was open, so…”
“Yeah, I saw that. I just thought… I mean, I thought maybe I’d say hello?” Jinki tries, a little cautiously. “I didn’t know if you were sleeping or what, but…”
Jonghyun looks baffled for a second, blinking a few times. Then he starts laughing for some reason, a kind of weary sound, and shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t sleep much.”
“But I thought…” Jinki starts, and then clams up. He doesn’t want to be rude or anything. After a second he tries, “Should I leave you alone so you can rest?”
“No,” Jonghyun says, a little too fast. “I like the company. I don’t get a whole lot of it.”
“Oh. Does Jongin not…?” Jinki asks, brow furrowing.
“He’s a sweet kid.” Jonghyun shrugs. “He’s just got too much going on to see me much.”
“That’s sad.”
“Not so much as you’d think. I’m kind of used to it. It’s just kind of a part of… all this.” Jonghyun smiles like he’s got a joke that he’s not sharing with Jinki. “I don’t mind so much. It’s nice to talk to someone though.”
“I can come visit more, if you’d like?” Jinki says.
Jonghyun’s eyebrows furrow. “Don’t go out of your way.”
“I’m not!” Jinki promises, smiling as kindly as he can. “Like you said, I’m here a lot now.”
“Then… yeah, that sounds nice. If I’m around,” Jonghyun says, shrugging like it doesn’t matter. There’s something longing in his face though.
“If you’re around,” Jinki agrees. “It’s really nice to—“ Jinki stops abruptly when he hears Taemin’s voice from downstairs, calling out to him. He turns in the doorway, looking down the hall, and then sighs a little. “I should go.”
“Yeah,” Jonghyun agrees from behind him, and Jinki looks back to see him halfway across the room again, settling back into his chair.
Jinki frowns. “I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Jonghyun says. “Can you, uh, shut the door behind you?”
“Sure,” Jinki says, stomach twisting a little. That hadn’t been how he wanted that conversation to go.
He shuts the door behind him and goes downstairs to find Taemin lacing up his shoes. “Where’ve you been?” Taemin asks. “It’s time to go home for dinner.”
Jinki thinks about answering, but it feels weird somehow, like he shouldn’t tell Taemin about the loose attempt at friendship he’s carving out with Jongin’s brother. If that can be counted as a friendship.
It doesn’t matter a whole lot. Taemin’s happy to accept Jinki’s shrug and, “Sorry. Lost track of time.”
“Did you find the ghosts in the attic?” Taemin teases, and Jinki laughs as he pulls on his own shoes and they head home for dinner, Taemin chattering excitedly about his and Jongin’s video game.
--
It becomes a sort of habit for Jinki to try and slip upstairs at some point to see Jonghyun. Not all the time, of course. He still spends quite a bit of time with Jongin and Taemin, sometimes helping Jongin with his math and sometimes just watching the two of them bicker playfully and play video games. But a lot of the times, he manages to find some time to go and visit. He had said he would try, after all, and it’s not like it’s hard to slip away.
Taemin and Jongin are in their own little world, and Jinki finds himself a kind of third wheel more often than not. It’s a little weird, but Jinki doesn’t mind. Taemin’s happy, and it’s nice to see him so open and entirely himself. It’s pretty much all Jinki’s ever wanted for Taemin, and while he originally thought that he might mind the two of them being so wrapped up in their friendship, he’s not.
Part of that is Jonghyun.
He’s not always there. Sometimes Jinki goes up and finds all of the doors shut, and when he knocks softly on the door, he’s always ignored. He figures Jonghyun really is sleeping at those times, and he doesn’t want to disturb him.
Other times he goes up and Jonghyun’s sitting there in his room with the door open, either sitting cross legged on the bed or folded up in the chair. Sometimes he seems to be scribbling things in notebook, but he always hides it away like magic when Jinki comes in. Still, he smiles at Jinki sweetly enough that Jinki has never had room to ask about it, always greeting him with a, “You’re back!”
The first few times he sounded more surprised than pleased, and Jinki had worried that he wasn’t as welcome as Jonghyun had made it seem during their earlier encounters. But Jinki realized quickly that Jonghyun just doesn’t get a lot of socialization. He supposes it’s always either Jongin or Mrs. Kim, and Jonghyun still sometimes expresses how rarely Jongin sees him. Jinki doesn’t have the heart to tell him that that’s probably because of Taemin, but Jonghyun seems to know anyways.
“Your cousin seems nice,” he tells Jinki a couple of weeks into their visits, a wry smile on his lips, and when Jinki’s eyebrows furrow, he continues, “I’ve never really spoken to him. He’s very wrapped up in Jongin, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, they’re pretty close,” Jinki says, shrugging a little. “They spend a lot of time together.”
“I’ve noticed,” Jonghyun says with a snort of amusement. “Jongin’s enamored.”
“What?” Jinki’s eyes widen, flicking downwards like he can see through the floor to the living room if he tries hard enough.
“Jongin’s got a crush. How’d you miss that? He’s always primping before you two come over.”
“But Taemin isn't gay,” Jinki protests, frowning tightly, unhappiness settling into his features. God, if Jongin has a crush on Taemin and it goes badly, Taemin could lose the only friend he has. He doesn’t want to see that happen, not when this is the happiest he’s seen Taemin in a long time.
“Yeah, I know,” Jonghyun says, and something in his voice is chilly enough that it feels like the air in the room literally plummets a few degrees. It pulls Jinki’s eyes back to Jonghyun’s face. The other boy looks pissy, shoulders suddenly set in a way that makes him stop looking as small and soft as he always does. “Your little cousin is as straight as they come. No shame to your family or anything.”
“Woah, what?” Jinki stiffens as well, mentally reeling. Jonghyun sounds so hateful, and it kind of stings to hear that angled at him, but worse is the words he’s using, like he thinks Jinki might genuinely feel that way. “I never said—“
“You didn’t have to. I get it,” Jonghyun says bitterly. He looks away from Jinki towards the window, head turned far enough that Jinki can’t see his expression, and it’s too bright outside for Jinki to be able to get a glimpse of Jonghyun’s reflection in the glass. “It’s written all over your face.”
“Then you’re not very good at reading,” Jinki says, and his voice is tight and controlled. He doesn’t want to yell at Jonghyun, partially because that feels mean, but also because he doesn’t want to get in trouble for being up here and upsetting him. “I don’t give a damn if Taemin is gay or not, and neither does my aunt. But Taemin has always said he’s straight, and that’s for him to figure out, not for anyone else to try and push on him.”
Jonghyun doesn’t look at him for a long time, but when he does, he’s wearing a look that Jinki is more than familiar with. It’s pretty similar to Taemin’s confused face actually, like he’s trying to buffer and process what Jinki just said, and it goes on for just a few seconds too long, making Jinki feel like squirming.
Jinki doesn’t know why, in his urge to break the silence, he admits, “I’m gay.”
“Oh,” Jonghyun says after a second, and then his face contorts into something else entirely, staring at Jinki like he’s never seen him before. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” Jinki says, shaking his head a little. After a moment he pauses and then says in a voice as firm as he can make it, “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No!” Jonghyun blurts out, shaking his head, “No, of course not. I just thought…”
“Yeah, I know. I get that a lot. I’m just not fashionable enough for a gay man,” Jinki jokes in a tone that makes it very clear exactly how much he hates that stereotype.
Jonghyun snorts a little. “I don’t think fashion is much of a deciding factor here. I used to know the most fashionable guy ever, and he was straight as a ruler. And Jongin’s got the fashion sense of a blind frat boy.”
“He’s in high school,” Jinki points out, smiling a little. “He’ll get past it. I hope.”
Jonghyun laughs, and like that it’s a little easier again. They don’t talk about Jinki’s confession, and they don’t really go back to discussing sexualities either. Not that day at least.
Before he leaves though, responding to Jonghyun’s yawn and proclamation of exhaustion, Jinki adds, “Hey, are we, uhm… good?”
It feels like such a lame thing to say, but Jonghyun nods, smiling gently. “Yeah. We’re fine.”
Jinki feels a little warm at the smile he’s apparently earned, and there’s a smile of his own on his face as he closes the door behind him and wanders back down the hallway, humming just loud enough that he misses the shuffling around behind one of the closed doors.
--
The next week is weird. Jongin and Taemin have a dance competition coming up hard and fast, and while they can’t make it out to the studio as often as they’d like, there’s space enough at their house for Jinki and Taemin to push all of the living room furniture out of the way and make space for Taemin and Jongin to practice. It’s fun to watch them for a while, but after about an hour of watching Taemin and Jongin repeat the same verse over and over with only the tiniest of alterations, Jinki’s getting a pounding headache.
His room’s not enough of an escape, and he can hear the base beat thudding through their walls no matter what he does. It’s driving him clearly mad, enough that when he crosses through the living room to the kitchen to get water and some ibuprofen, Jongin’s mouth pulls. The boy follows him into the kitchen, leaving Taemin for a second, and hesitates in the doorway.
“Uhm, hyung,” he says, looking sheepish (or as sheepish as he can look when he’s red-faced and dripping sweat, tank top soaked through and clinging in a way that is highly unnecessary on a kid his age), “I called my mom, and she says you’re welcome to hang out at our house. I mean, my brother’s there, but he’s still sleeping a lot, so it should be pretty quiet.”
“Ah, I wouldn’t want to bother him,” Jinki says to be polite, though realistically, he’s kind of excited at the prospect. Peace, quiet, and maybe getting to spend time with Jonghyun. It’s not a bad deal.
“Well, I mean, he doesn’t leave his room a lot, so I doubt he’d even know you were there. And if he does, you can just say who you are,” Jongin points out, and Jinki realizes belatedly that Jongin hasn’t noticed him disappearing for hours to hang out with Jonghyun either. He wonders if Jonghyun’s ever even mentioned their friendship. The thought is oddly unsettling.
“That’s…” Jinki starts, and then hears Taemin curse and the track repeat. He flinches openly. “That’s probably a good idea. Thank you, Jongin, and thank your mother for me if I don’t get the chance myself.”
“Yeah, course, hyung!” Jongin says, smiling brilliantly and practically wagging his metaphorical tail as he digs his house key out of the pocket of his sweats and hands it over. He and Jonghyun both look like puppies sometimes, honestly.
“Jonginnie, come on! We’ve got to get through this bullshit transition,” Taemin calls from the other room, and Jongin turns his head in surprise and then smiles at Jinki a little softer before returning to his friend.
“Language,” Jinki teases as he slips back through the room and heads upstairs to go get his laptop, in better spirits now that he has an escape.
“Get out, hyung!” Taemin laughs, and Jinki does so, taking his time on the walk to Jongin’s house. The summer air is sticky, a little stifling, but Jinki doesn’t mind. It only makes the constant iciness of Jongin’s house feel better as it chills the sweat beading on the back of Jinki’s neck, cooling him quickly enough that he shivers a little.
It’s slightly strange being in Jongin’s house when there’s no one home. Well, no one but his brother. But it’s always quiet upstairs, in what feels like Jonghyun’s territory, and now the entire house feels like that. It’s oddly silent without Jongin verbally working his way through math problems or Taemin and Jongin arguing over video games. It’s nice though, and Jinki relishes it for a moment as he goes to get himself a glass of water, comfortable enough here that it doesn’t make him feel awkward.
He gulps it down, sets it in the sink, and takes a moment to look out the kitchen window to the slightly overgrown side yard. It’s strange, how it reminds him a little of the way their yard always looked like when he was younger, after he had moved in with his aunt but before she trusted him to run the mower without running over his own feet. He should probably offer to mow the Kim’s yard one of these days.
He’s still lost in thought when he hears a soft noise from the second floor. It’s quiet enough that he’s fairly sure it’s just the sound of socked feet on the floor above him, but it makes him pause anyways. After a moment, he smiles. He takes the stairs as quietly as possible, just in case, but he’s pretty sure that means Jonghyun is awake, and when he slips into the room at the end of the hall, he’s a little disappointed not to see him.
He frowns for a moment, looking around one more time, just in case, and then turns on his heel to leave, only to nearly jump out of his skin when he sees Jonghyun standing behind him in the hallway, where he certainly hadn’t been a moment before.
“Jesus—“ Jinki breaths, pressing a hand to his racing heart.
Jonghyun smiles. “I’m sorry,” he says, taking a step back to give Jinki some space. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No. God, no, you’re fine,” Jinki laughs, raking his fingers through his hair. “I should have given you some warning. I didn't want to be too loud coming in though, in case you were sleeping.”
“It's alright,” Jonghyun says, smiling. “I'm not sleeping. I wasn't expecting you here is all. I thought it would be-- well, someone else.”
Jinki lifts an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking playfully. “Do you not want me here?”
“I like having you here. It's nice to have someone who actually interacts with me,” Jonghyun says. There's something sad in his face, but he smiles anyways. “I just don't see you much without your cousin in tow. And Jongin, of course.”
“Yeah, they're practicing over at my aunt's place. It's a tiny bit deafening,” Jinki says with a laugh. “They're good, but there's only so many times--”
“Ah,” Jonghyun says, nodding. “It's worse when you can't get away from it. They try not to practice here much, but Jongin plays the same songs over and over and, well...”
Jinki laughs. “He's in high school,” he points out, meaning it as a playful comment on his tastes, but it calls to mind the conversation from the previous week, and that makes him pause.
Jonghyun is obviously thinking the same thing, because he tips his head at Jinki and says, “So, when you said you were gay...”
“I generally meant that I'm attracted to guys,” Jinki says. “The traditional definition.”
Jonghyun laughs weakly. “No,” he says, “I meant... does that work out for you?”
Jinki smiles softly, a little sadly. “It's alright. It doesn't affect too much. I've always been a bit more interested in school and grades than relationships,” he says. He tries not to think too much about how few friends he has at school because of that.
But Jonghyun seems to see right through him. “It's rough, isn't it?” he asks, reaching out for Jinki. He seems to hesitate before touching him, and Jinki realizes abruptly that this is the first time Jonghyun ever has. His fingers are ice-cold and a little clammy, and he pulls them back quickly when Jinki shivers involuntarily. “Sorry.”
“You're fine,” Jinki says. “I know that you're sick. It's okay.”
Jonghyun pauses. “Yeah,” he agrees after a moment. “Sick. Right.”
That seems like a strange response, and Jinki's brow furrows. “Are you--”
Jonghyun only shakes his head. “I should go soon. I'm getting tired.”
“Alright,” Jinki agrees. He's not going to stop him. He needs his rest. “Well, I'll be downstairs if you want to talk.”
Jonghyun nods slowly, moving to one side. Jinki steps out past him into the hallway, letting Jonghyun move past him into the bedroom. After a quiet moment, Jinki moves down the hall towards the stairs.
“Jinki?” Jonghyun says, and Jinki turns towards him in surprise. Jonghyun is standing there, in the doorway, watching him. “I... I'm gay too.”
“Oh,” Jinki says, not sure what else to say. He's not sure if he's surprised or not. “That's--”
“I'm gonna go,” Jonghyun says, before Jinki can get out anything else. He steps back, disappearing out of sight, and the door closes. Jinki stands there for a moment longer before heading downstairs, leaving Jonghyun to his sleep.
-- Jinki and Jonghyun interact a few more times, becoming friends, and Jonghyun starts hanging out for longer and longer amounts of time.
-- Jonghyun admits, one day, to never having kissed a boy. Jinki kisses him --
Jonghyun’s mouth is soft, and his hands shake as he makes a quiet noise of disbelief and wraps his fingers loosely into the front of Jinki’s shirt. It’s not a long kiss, and Jinki pulls away after a moment, swallowing tightly. He hopes that that was okay. He hopes that he didn’t just shatter their friendship, because it startles him to realize that he considers Jonghyun his best friend and to think that he might have ruined that is terrifying.
“Was that…” he starts, slowly, and he can hear the concern in his own voice, wavering and unsure.
Jonghyun makes a tiny, sweet little noise and crumples into him all at once, shoulders heaving. Jinki startles, catching him, and for a moment Jonghyun feels almost insubstantial in his arms, like if Jinki squeezes too tight he’ll just melt away. But then Jonghyun makes another of those noises, a little wetter this time, and Jinki sucks in a breath and tightens his grip because Jonghyun is crying.
“Jonghyun,” Jinki says, a little helpless. He’s always been bad at this sort of thing. “I don’t-- I’m sorry if that wasn’t…”
Jonghyun shakes his head weakly, the action rubbing his face against Jinki’s shirt. “No, no, please don’t-- don’t apologize. I… g-god, I just… I never thought… I’ve never been kissed before, and I d-don’t…”
He’s stuttering, stumbling over his words a little, and Jinki should know better, should think more about it, but he doesn’t. He just unravels his arms so that he can catch Jonghyun’s face instead and pulls him up, kisses him again despite the tears on Jonghyun’s face and the way Jonghyun gasps into his mouth.
Jonghyun’s fingers spasm in his shirt, and then he’s tugging weakly, like he’s trying to pull Jinki closer. When Jinki breaks apart from him, Jonghyun whines, tugging pitifully, but Jinki just grins, leaning their foreheads together and breathing slowly, evenly.
Jonghyun curls into him slowly and clings for a long while, the two of them sitting in peaceful quiet before Jonghyun whispers, “This feels so real.”
Jinki laughs a little, confused by the murmur. “Of course it’s real. Jonghyunnie…”
“I know,” Jonghyun whispers but it sounds almost doubtful, almost near tears again. “I just… I want it to be real, and I know it can’t be. I know it can’t… can’t work out or last…”
Jinki bites back his cringe. He doesn’t like to think too hard about it, about the way Jongin always says ‘my brother is sick’ with the kind of tone where ‘sick’ means ‘dying’. He doesn’t like the think about the way the hope rings hollow in Mrs. Kim’s voice when she mentions going to the city or a new treatment. He doesn’t like to think about it, and now he has to, because Jonghyun is looking at him uncertainly, pulling away, and Jinki feels something ice-cold and desperate.
“Why can’t it?” he says, and then realizes how stupid that was. “I know… I know things aren’t perfect, or… or, I don’t know. I don’t want to mess this up. I like being with you. I like being your friend. And I’d be happy with that, I would. But I also… I like kissing you and holding you and…”
Jonghyun makes a soft, strange laugh, a little tense, a little strained. “I do too,” he says finally, biting his lip. “I want-- I want to be with you. However you-- I just don’t want to break your heart.”
That seems a little much, but at the same time, Jinki has a feeling like it’s too late for that. Romantic or platonic, Jonghyun is so important to him now, and one day he’s going to lose him.
He doesn’t say that though. He just kisses Jonghyun again, hands shaking as he moves to hold Jonghyun’s waist, thin and fragile under his bulky sweater.
“Okay,” Jonghyun says finally, and Jinki doesn’t know what that means, but Jonghyun is swaying a little, tired a little, and they rest there a moment longer before Jonghyun says, “Isn’t it time for you to take Jongin and Taemin to dance?”
“Fuck,” Jinki says, jerking suddenly. He lets go of Jonghyun, fumbling for his phone to check the time and then hisses, “Fuck. Thank you, Jonghyun. I gotta-- we can… later, yeah?”
Jonghyun smiles, hesitant and not entirely a happy expression. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be here.”
“Jong…” Jinki starts and leans in to kiss him again.
Jonghyun stops him, hands bracing on his chest. “You’re going to be late,” he says, and then presses up for a tiny kiss, brief and chaste and something that makes Jinki’s heart swoop anyways. “Go.”
Jinki catches Jonghyun’s hand and squeezes before he goes, patting down his pockets to make sure he has his keys and taking the stairs two at a time.
-- Taemin and Jongin’s team wins their dance competition and are moving on to the next thing, so they start spending more time practicing and Jinki starts basically hiding out at Jongin’s house and just spending a lot more time with Jonghyun. They talk a little more, and Jonghyun never really gives a solid answer on what they are, he just kisses Jinki instead.
-- Jinki hanging out with Jonghyun, and Jonghyun sitting up suddenly and mumbling something about, “I have to go,” and rushing upstairs and Jinki worries about him and tries to follow him up, but Jongin’s mom gets home then and Jinki says hi and they talk for a moment before she starts to go up and Jinki says something about “I don’t know if he’s feeling well. He kind of…” and her face crumples a little and she forces a smile and says she’ll check on him and Jinki nods and kind of reluctantly leaves her to it and goes so it’s not weird.
-- Jongin is gone that weekend cuz his family goes into the city. Jinki and Tae scene where Taemin says something about how hard it is on Jongin and then backtracks and is like ‘I’m not saying Jongin’s got it worse, but… he just… it’s hard for him. His family being like this. I just don’t know what to do for him.’ and Jinki kind of frowns and says, “I doubt it’s easy on any of them, but… all we can do is be there. However we’re needed.” And Tae nods and the conversation kind of falls to other stuff.
-- Jinki and Tae are at Jongin’s house and Jinki’s trying to help Jongin study since Jongin’s been putting it off for dance. Jinki’s aunt calls and tells them that she has to work late and won’t be home until at least 10 or 11, and Jinki is talking to her when Jongin’s mom gets home and Jongin suggests Jinki and Tae stay for dinner. She agrees and Jinki tells his aunt and they make plans and settle in and Jonghyun doesn’t come down for dinner, but another boy -- maybe a year or so older than Taemin -- comes down and grabs some food and goes back upstairs and Jinki assumes maybe it’s someone with Jonghyun and gets jealous, but he doesn’t get a chance until he and Taemin are heading home and then he asks.
“Who was that guy who came down?” he asks, and they’re passing just under a streetlight now, so Jinki gets to watch as Taemin’s face pinches in confusion. Jinki doesn’t know what he said wrong -- it felt like a perfectly legitimate question.
“That’s Jongdae,” he says, and the tone of his voice makes it clear that Jinki should know who that is. After a moment, he says, “You know? Jongdae? Jongin’s brother? Have you not met him yet?”
Jinki is suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat in his ears. Jongdae. Jongin’s brother, Jongdae.
“Then… does he have another--?” But he can’t even finish that question. It’s too ridiculous. How could he have known Jongin for a month and a half and this still be catching him this off guard. Jongin’s older brother. He frowns. “What about Jonghyun?”
“Who?” Taemin asks, and his face is shadowed now. They’ve stopped between streetlights, Jinki frozen on the sidewalk. “Hyung, are you okay?”
Jinki shakes his head.
-- Jinki avoiding the house for a few days until Jongin has to beg him for help with a problem set and Jinki goes over and the entire house feels uncomfortable now, and Jinki asks how ‘Jongin’s brother’ is and Jongin kind of shrugs and mumbles something about “He’s sleeping a lot more recently. The doctors can’t figure it out. He just says he’s tired all the time.”
Jinki goes upstairs when they’re done and runs into Jonghyun and Jonghyun is staring at him and finally says, “I’ve missed you,” and Jinki doesn’t know what to say except, “Who are you?”
And Jonghyun’s face crumples and he gets angry and asks Jinki why it matters, why he has to care when he hasn’t cared this whole time?
And Jinki asks him again because he thought Jonghyun was Jongin’s brother, he thought he knew, and now he doesn’t and he’s scared.
And Jonghyun sighs really loudly and kind of shamefacedly tells his story. He was this kid who used to live in this house a long time ago and he committed suicide b/c he was gay and being bullied, and Jonghyun -- "It's funny how you never realize how much you want to be alive until you aren't anymore."
Jinki finds out that Jonghyun's the one who's been making Jongdae worse and he doesn't mean to, but it takes energy to stick around and Jongdae is the easiest target. And so Jonghyun takes energy from him and just basically leaves Jongdae passed out half the time and Jonghyun's like, "he's dying anyways! What's worse, for me to make it easy on him and give a second chance to someone who wants it, or for him to be in pain every hour of every day?!" and Jinki's literally so aware that Jonghyun can't do this, but at the same time, Jonghyun just wants to be alive, or as alive as he can be.
And Jinki had to choose between his feelings for Jonghyun and the knowledge that Jonghyun can’t do this because he’s hurting people. And Jinki tries to talk to him but Jonghyun starts getting angrier and angrier and lights start flickering, and Jinki stumbles backwards just as something flies across the room and it shatters against the wall and cuts him.
And he looks down and sees the blood on his fingertips and looks back at Jonghyn who’s looking at him in horror and just “I… I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t. Jinki, I promise, I didn’t mean-- I don’t know how I did it. I’ve-- I’ve never…”
Jinki drops his hand and just looks at Jonghyun for a long time. “Why are you here, Jonghyun? Why are you staying here?”
And Jonghyun whispers that he’s scared. And Jinki steps in and hugs him and kisses him really softly, and when he steps away Jonghyun’s just looking at him and his hands are shaking and he repeats, “I’m scared.”
And Jinki whispers that he knows, but that Jonghyun, the Jonghyun he knows wouldn’t want to hurt someone. Wouldn’t want someone to hurt because of him.
And Jonghyun kind of laughs bitterly and says, “How would you know? It’s what I’ve been doing all this time.”
But Jinki just shakes his head and says, “Jonghyun, please.”
When Jonghyun pulls away, he’s looking at Jinki’s injury and his eyes are sad and scared and he takes Jinki’s hand and murmurs, “I’m sorry. I wish… I wish that things had been different. I really wanted to love you.”
Jinki just stares at him, something ragged and tight in his chest. “I do love you, Jonghyun.”
Jonghyun just wells up and presses his face into Jinki’s shoulder, and whispers, “I told you I didn’t want to break your heart.”
But Jinki just shakes his head and closes his eyes, pressing a kiss into Jonghyun’s hair. He stays like that for a long time, and he doesn’t open his eyes until the weight of a body in his arms is gone.
-- Jinki helps Jongin finish his math stuff. He meets Jongdae, who’s feeling a little better now, not as tired all the time. The new treatment is working, they tell them. Jongin and Taemin win their dance competition. They celebrate at Jongin’s house and Jongdae joins them for lunch and talks to Jinki for a bit. He’s a nice kid, and when he gets amused, he smiles like a cat and laughs freely. They could maybe, probably be friends.
Sometimes, at Jongin’s house, Jinki catches sight of something out of the corner of his eyes. Sometimes, at Jongin’s house, he feels a sudden chill of cold air. Sometimes, at Jongin’s house, he finds himself crying for no real reason except the obvious, and he can almost imagine someone holding him.
Sometimes, he’s not sure if Jonghyun is gone or not, but when he can, when he finds himself wondering too hard, sometimes he whispers ‘I love you’ to the maybe-empty house, just in case.
#shinee fic#shinee fanfiction#WIP#unfinished#Jongyu#honestly thank you all#my writing#if anyone know where this title came from please hit me up bc my Fave book
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Fic-vember Day 2
I’m back y’all. Reminder that if you send me an idea for a oneshot it will be my day 3 post. Here’s chapter 2 of the fic from yesterday:
Bubble Tea and Feelings (vld klance fic)
Chapter 2: and Feelings
(Or read on ao3.)
"Shiro you're not taking this seriously," Keith said with venom.
He held up two different shirts for Shiro to look at through the screen. He and Matt were in a tent on a mountain somewhere but Keith didn't have any other friends to consult.
"Keith, they both look good. It's going to be fine no matter what you wear."
Matt poked his head in the tent. "Is this the date with Lance? Holy shit I didn't believe it when Pidge told me this is too good."
Shiro shushed him and Keith buried his head in his hands. "Ignore him. Lance is a good guy. You're going to be fine."
"Shiro when was the last time I went on a date?"
"Um...not since high school right?"
He winced. "Yeah, not since sophomore year." He'd been too busy studying his ass off every minute since.
"Keith, relax. He likes you," Matt said from off screen.
"He what? Has he talked about me?" Keith felt his face go red. Shiro grinned at him before pulling his boyfriend into the frame.
Matt cackled. "Pidge is an excellent informant. It's going to be fine Keith. And wear the shirt on the right."
Shiro was like a brother to him. He was the first person he trusted. Shiro taught him that he didn't have to be alone.
"I'm being dumb right?" He asked in a small voice.
Shiro's gaze softened. "You're not being dumb. It's okay to be nervous about it. I was scared out of my mind when Matt asked me out the first time."
"You were?" Matt Holt's mess of hair tilted back into view.
"Are you kidding? Of course I was. You didn't notice how sweaty my hands were the whole time?"
"You think I noticed how sweaty your hands were when my hands were actually liquid?"
"Oh c'mon, it's not like I noticed that."
"Babe, you're actually changing the way I tell my 'how I met the love of my life' story."
"I'm the love of your life?" Shiro was blushing on the screen.
"Alright, so I've had enough of your romantic nonsense for tonight. Thanks."
Shiro smiled at him. He really missed him. "It'll be okay Keith. Trust me."
***
Pidge was on their break when Lance got the call. It was a slow morning. Lance had spent the majority of it staring out the window and thinking up endless ways this date could go wrong. The sharp ring of the phone didn't do much for his nerves.
"Hello, you've reached Holt Teahouse. This is Lance speaking."
"Oh, hello. I'm looking for Pidge Holt?" The voice was accented and hesitant.
"They aren't here right now sorry. I can take a message? Or you could call back in like 20 minutes. They'll be back from their break then."
"Thank you...um did you say this number is for a teahouse? I'm just a tad confused. I'm Pidge's advisor at the Garrison next year. They haven't been responding to my emails so I looked up the phone number on file and..."
"You're from the Garrison? Oh no it's all good. Pidge's family owns the tea house and they don't have a home phone so Pidge probably put this number figuring someone in their family would always be here." He laughed. It was a very Pidge thing to do.
"I see, so you know Pidge? I'm Allura. I graduated from the Garrison three years ago and now I work as an academic adviser. I hoped I'd get a chance to talk with them about their schedule and future academic goals before they arrived on campus."
"I'm sure they'd be happy to do that. Between you and me..." Lance lowered his voice in case Pidge happened to come back early. "I think Pidge is a little nervous about coming to the Garrison. They got picked on in middle school and their whole family has a history at the Garrison: Pidge's parents, their brother Matt, Shiro..."
"Pidge is related to Takashi Shirogone?" Allura actually squeaked. "He's quite honestly a legend."
Lance smirked. He knew Shiro was popular in high school...I mean, about as popular as a giant nerd could be. He was the captain of Science Olympiad and Matt's right hand at the helm of the national championship finalist Robotics team. He also played lacrosse and ran track and managed to take an actual record number of AP tests (scoring almost entirely 5s of course). Apparently his shadow still loomed.
"Well they aren't related by blood but Shiro's basically family. And I mean...if he marries Matt he actually will be family."
"You have a treasure trove of interesting information Lance," Allura said, sounding positively stunned. Lance thought maybe he'd said too much. He'd deny it if prompted but he loved bragging about his friends, even when it bordered on gossip.
The back door creaked open and Pidge came in, holding a container of French fries and looking a little pissed off. "Apparently I no longer look young enough to buy Happy Meals without being judged and questioned," they began before Lance interrupted.
"Hey gremlin, you've got a phone call. It's your Garrison adviser. Here they are Allura." Pidge instantly paled and reluctantly traded Lance for the phone. They took it into the bathroom and shut the door.
Lance was back to daydreaming by the time Pidge reappeared. They clicked the phone back into its dock with irritation and hopped up onto their usual stool.
"What was that all about?" Lance asked cautiously.
Pidge shook their head. "It's nothing she just wanted to talk about the Garrison. Move in day and what to expect and all that."
"Okay that sounds good. Why do you seem so angry?"
Pidge whipped their head up and glared. "I'm not perfect like Matt or Shiro. You know that right?"
"Pidge..."
They shook their head aggressively, arms crossed tightly over their chest and eyes lowered. Lance remembered seeing them with a similar expression the day of their middle school graduation. Lance had knocked on their bedroom door and fiddled when his tie.
"You okay?" He remembered saying. "Your dad wants us to go soon."
Pidge straightened the collar of their button down and gritted their teeth. "Let's just get this over with," they had said.
"What are you talking about?" Lance had replied. "It's gonna be great. You're going to high school. High school's like...way better than middle school. And like," he had stopped, feeling kind of dorky. "It's kind of rewarding walking across that stage. Even if it's not a real diploma."
Pidge's expression had lightened. "Alright. I trust you Lance. It you say it's going to be great then I guess it's going to be great," they smiled. Lance wished he could make Pidge smile like that again.
"No you don't get it," Pidge said, picking at the last of their fries and refusing to meet his eyes. "I'm not good enough. I'm just going to be made fun of and compared and probably misgendered too but that's a whole different can of worms."
"Slow down..."
"How am I supposed to be excited like everyone wants me to be when all I can think about is how I'm going to let everyone down and..."
"Pidge, stop."
Pidge blinked back their tears and Lance bridged the gap between them to give them a tight hug.
"You're not going to let anyone down. You're so much just by being yourself."
"You don't have to say that just because I'm crying."
"I'm not. You know I'm not."
"Well anyway. We should get back to work." They wiped their face with a napkin self-consciously. "I'm sorry I had a meltdown."
"It's only natural to be worried Pidge. That doesn't mean it's not all going to be okay."
"Thanks Lance."
"Any time Pidge."
He thought then that he should tell Pidge that they were his best friend. It wasn't something he'd said aloud. He didn't want to put too much pressure on them, especially since they were leaving for school soon. No matter what people told him Lance always felt like he was kind of a nuisance.
"Hey don't you have that date tonight?"
"And don't you have a phone call with Five or whatever his fictional name is?"
"His name is Seven and you should address him as Hacker God. Honestly though Lance please download Mystic Messenger. I need someone to scream about it with and Matt won't do it."
"Oh so I'm not even your first choice huh?"
***
Keith paced anxiously in his living room and shoved his hands in his pockets as if the answers were in there somewhere. They weren't. Lance would arrive any minute.
He ran through the same imaginary conversations he'd been having in his head since this morning. Imaginary conversations were enough to make his palms sweat tonight. Somehow he always ended up sounding stupid.
There was a knock on the door.
"Hey," Lance smiled an easy smile that made Keith fractionally less nervous. "You look nice."
"Thanks...I um, you look nicer." It was odd seeing him outside of the apron, in a shirt with a collar even. The sleeves of his blue button up were rolled to his elbows and his jeans were worn thin at the knees and cuffed in a way that highlighted his converse. He was just the right amount of dressed up and down that put Keith at ease.
"I thought maybe we could grab some pizza? My friend is the chef at this place near by that's really good. I mean I don't know if you're in the mood for pizza. Or if you like pizza. I guess there are people who don't like pizza right? Or they can't eat it for some reason..."
"I'm good with pizza."
The restaurant was warmly lit and smelled like fresh garlic and tomatoes when they got near the kitchen. The hostess recognized Lance and eagerly led the two of them to a booth.
"I'll tell him you're here," she said.
"Thanks Shay. I appreciate it."
Lance looked at home in the plush booth. He leaned his elbows on the table and slid a menu in Keith's direction.
"Your pick. Unless you want a salad or something. Or you're heathen who likes pineapple on their pizza."
Keith could feel his face heating up so he looked down.
"Oh shit, you are aren't you? I didn't mean it man." He looked nervously wide eyed for a second before Keith laughed.
"My go to is pineapple, yes. I already knew I was a heathen though." Lance grinned at him and Keith felt warm again. "I'm not picky. I'm fine with anything," he amended.
"I'd say. You've ordered just about everything on the Holt Teahouse menu."
“Yeah, well whose fault is that?”
Lance leaned forward on the table, elbows encroaching on Keith’s space and Keith nearly jumped out of his skin. “I’m still finding it hard to believe that you bought all that boba just so you could see me. No one really...I mean I guess I’m usually the one who makes the move.” He was looking him straight in the eye, honest, as the last traces of his teasing tone dissipated. Keith could see the freckles on his nose. They were probably from the sun. Lance looked like he belonged in the sun.
Keith hadn’t been on a date in years for several reasons: 1) There wasn’t really the time. He never went out because he needed all the studying time he could get. Even when he didn’t need to be studying he invented something to study for to dodge Shiro’s invitations. Studying easily became a cover for the fact that he didn’t want to embarrass himself. Shiro said he didn’t have a good work and free time balance . 2) He was bad at reading people. As Lance leaned forward he tried to deconstruct everything that had happened in the 20 minutes they’d been out and figure out whether or not he was making a complete fool of himself yet. And 3) Keith wasn’t sure he was a person worth dating.
So it was odd to be faced with the same brand of nervous insecurity that he felt 95% of the time. Especially when it came from someone who seemed a lot more in control than he was.
“Lance, I…”
“Hey Lance, how’s the teahouse?” They were interrupted by a man with an apron who looked like he was made of sunshine and Keith quietly shrunk.
“It’s great Hunk, you should stop by sometime. I can get you a discount.” Lance winked exaggeratedly.
Hunk laughed. “I might take you up on that. I’m sorry for intruding though.”
“Oh, right, Hunk this is Keith. Keith this is my friend Hunk.”
They exchanged pleasantries and Hunk took their order while he was there, promising that the food would be out quickly.
“Your friends seem really nice,” Keith said, once he’d gone. Pidge too, had seemed like someone worth getting to know.
“My friends are awesome,” Lance said with a grin. “The best part of spending the summers here is that I get to see everyone. It’s funny, because when I get back to campus all I can draw is the teahouse and Pidge and Hunk and Matt. All my inspiration is here.” He leaned in again. “But don’t tell them I said that. It’ll go to their heads.”
The pizza came and Keith convinced Lance to try a piece with pineapple, which he begrudgingly admitted wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Lance showed him some of the art he had pictures of on his phone and Keith laughed at the absurd joy in the eyes of the Holt siblings who he’d drawn pouring intensely over a game of Yahtzee. The pieces in color were vibrant and larger than life: the sunset bleeding into the forms of his friends along the horizon, a cup of bubble tea with miniature mermaids in teals and purples swimming among the boba that looked more like pearls, a lion done entirely in blues yawning lazily like a house cat. Keith groped for the words to compliment him, but he was never very artistically minded and everything he said didn’t feel quite right. Lance’s work was beautiful but it was more than that. He , was more than that.
“Do you want to get ice cream or something?” Lance asked carefully after they’d paid. “If you’re too tired I totally understand I’m just having a nice time so…”
“I’m having a nice time too. Ice cream would be great.”
It was only a couple blocks to the nearest ice cream place. They walked slowly, and when Keith got too nervous to look at Lance he looked up at the stars instead. And it was nice. It was nice and easier than he thought it’d be.
“Shiro’s kind of right about me being a hermit,” he muttered after they’d ordered (cookies and cream for Keith, peanut butter chocolate for Lance.) “It’s my fault I didn’t meet Matt or Pidge or you sooner. I kind of...close myself off sometimes.”
“Well you’re studying right? No one can blame you for having a lot of work to do. That’s why you’re here,” Lance said gently. His ice cream was melting off the cone and he turned his head to the side to chase the mess of chocolate before it got to his hand.
“Yeah, you’re right I just...nevermind, this is probably too much to get into when we hardly know each other.”
“Dude, you can’t just say that and not finish your thought. Also, we’ve known each other all summer technically.”
Keith laughed and stole a glance at him. His eyebrows were furrowed as if in preparation to think very hard about whatever Keith was going to say next. Keith looked back up at the deep blue of the sky.
“I think I use school as an excuse a lot of the time. I think it’s just easier to make myself too busy for other people so I don’t have to worry about letting them in and letting them hurt me.”
“You think people are going to hurt you?”
“Not right away maybe but…”
“Eventually? Do you think I’m going to hurt you eventually?” He stopped. “Assuming there’s an eventually I guess.”
Keith shook his head aggressively. “No, maybe. It’s just scary to risk it. It’s easy to be alone.”
Lance considered this for a moment. The silence hung while Keith questioned every stupid, overly personal thing he’d just revealed about himself in the past 30 seconds.
“I think it’s worth it though,” he said at last. “To let people in. I think that even if you get hurt you get happiness and love and people to talk to, you know?”
“I’m trying...I’m trying to know.” Keith laughed. “That sounds so stupid but it’s all I’ve got.”
“It’s not stupid.”
“Thanks, but you don’t have to say that.”
“No, I mean it. It’s not stupid.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey,” Lance hesitated. “Could I maybe draw you really quickly?” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tiny notebook and stub of a pencil.
“Me?” Keith felt his face go red. “Right now?”
“Yeah, I want to remember this conversation.”
“Okay.” He looked over at him and saw that his hands were already moving, face scrunched up in concentration as he drew.
Keith listened to cars go by and bugs making noises and the faint echo of the radio from inside the ice cream shop and then Lance started talking, eyes still focused on his drawing. “I think I have the opposite problem. I get so attached to people that I start to worry.”
“About what?”
He stopped and looked up at him for a second. “I don’t think people like me as much as I like them. Sometimes I feel kind of useless.”
Keith couldn’t imagine why someone like Lance would feel useless.
"From what I've seen it seems like there isn't anyone who doesn't think you're great." He tripped over the double negative but recovered. "Everyone likes you...myself included."
Lance smiled and it wasn’t the unrestrained grin from earlier. It was small and hopeful and a little insecure.
“Thanks Keith.”
***
“If I commission you will you draw me Seven?” Pidge was balancing on the stool by the outlet again, scrolling through something on their phone.
“Seven what?” Lance asked distractedly, he was focusing on not spilling tea everywhere.
“Seven the character from Mystic Messenger,” Pidge said exasperatedly. “I know you don’t care now that you have a boyfriend and all but this is important so…”
“Keith’s not my boyfriend. We went on one date.”
“Yeah whatever. You’re gonna get a boyfriend and stop hanging out with me and I’ll have to be fine with it because I can’t get mad at some guy who gets you excited enough to call me at 1 a.m.”
Lance swatted them with his free hand. He had called Pidge at one last night to recount all the details of the date. He’d intended to wait until morning but he couldn’t sleep. And thanks to that stupid game they’d been up anyway.
“I’m not even. I wouldn’t just stop hanging out with my best friend.”
Pidge tilted on the stool and set their phone down. “I’m really your best friend?”
Lance frowned. “Yeah, of course you are.” It was something he should've said a long time ago, but apparently this was the summer of laying feelings directly on the table. Their age difference had always made their friendship a little odd. Pidge would complain about middle school while he tried to assure them that high school was better and when they ran into Lance’s or Pidge’s other friends at the movie theater they often thought it was a babysitting situation. But it never mattered to Lance.
“You’re my best friend too,” they said, adjusting their glasses.
He set down the pitcher of tea. “Look, I know you’re worried about high school and fitting in and Matt being the golden child and all that but I think you’re forgetting that you’re the most badass person I know.”
Pidge scoffed.
“No seriously, you’re just unapologetically yourself and that’s so brave and so rare. You’re ahead of the curve. Everyone else will catch on eventually.”
“And then I can be their god?” Pidge laughed sardonically.
“Sure, you can be their god you weirdo.”
They hugged their knees to their chest atop the stool. “You really think it’ll be alright? Allura was nice and all but every time she calls about advising stuff I just freak out.”
“It’ll be alright. I promise. And I’m just a phone call away.”
As if on cue the teahouse phone rang. Lance glanced at it knowingly and Pidge answered it. “Holt Teahouse this is Pidge. Oh hi Allura. Yeah, I have a minute.” They made their way to the bathroom, giving Lance a small salute.
Three hours later, after a slow day of limited sales, Lance was nearly dozing off at the ordering window. Pidge was looking through the high school course catalog with more interest than before. He jumped when he heard him.
“Hey Lance.” Keith was right in front of him, leaning his elbows on the counter. He had a huge smile plastered on his face and he wasn’t alone.
“Jesus Christ asshole when did you get back?” Pidge burst forth, jumping out of their seat and leaning through the open window to hug their brother.
“Whoa, language,” he laughed. “We just got back an hour ago. It was a nonstop flight.”
“Surprise,” Shiro said, slinging an arm over Keith’s shoulder. “I hear you two have met?” He said, gesturing between Keith and Lance.
“Yeah,” Keith said quietly. “I think we’re going to get to know each other a lot better too.”
Lance felt dizzy with happiness even when Pidge started teasing him and Shiro tousled Keith’s hair and the five of them ended up in a smooshed group hug that ended quickly but felt like it lasted all the way through Shiro’s recounting of their trip (punctuated by Matt reenacting the most dramatic moments) and Pidge explaining the entire plot of Mystic Messenger to Keith who listened patiently and interjected with questions of his own and it didn’t leave until he was in bed that night, staring up at his ceiling and listening to his own heartbeat. His phone pinged and he stared at the glow of the message in the dark.
Keith: See you tomorrow. :)
There was still plenty of summer left. Even when it was over they’d be okay. It would all be okay.
#awi's fic-vember#awi's fic#klance fic#voltron legendary defender#voltron#keith kogane#lance mcclain#vld lance#vld keith#pidge holt#matt holt#vld shiro#allura#vld fic
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I'd like to share a little wisdom, if you'll hear it. Or maybe it's not wisdom cuz I smoked quite a bit and feel compelled to share this but anywaus here ya go. My "Adult Life" has been quite an experience thus far. But not in ways I would've expected, say, 5 years ago. I've learned how to do my taxes, for the most part. I've tried alcohol, though I seem to be the only one in the house who much prefers drinking juice and also buys it in gallons. I've discovered a bar that is also an arcade and I now have a place to take my friends out on a late night that's actually fun and they serve root beer. I had my first car, though it was brief. I bought myself a ukulele because I decided I was finally gonna learn to play an instrument and stick with it. I got a couple tattoos, and I really like them. I've picked up my interest in Art again. I'm determined to build a portfolio and aquire new skills, simply because it's FUN. I've listened to my friends tell me about college and how their teacher tells them they're actually gonna be famous one day or they're planning to study abroad. I couldn't be happier for them. I demanded they send me postcards with funny notes or remember to save me a front row seat. While I haven't had the adventure of college just yet (more or less living vicariously through my friends), I have had an interesting period of change and self reflection. Bringing me to a short story I'm about to share. But before I do that, this is in now way meant to convince anyone that there is a single right way to find personal happiness. This is simply an account of how I believe I am finding mine. In 4th grade, I went to a public school that no one would've heard of, and certainly never won any awards for being a great school. I had 2 friends, and spent most of my free time in the nurse's office. I never felt like anything "special," but I had 2 friends and that was good enough. Then one day in Art Class, the teacher gives us an assignment with the book called "Salt in His Shoes." It was colorful book about Michael Jordan. We were asked to recreate a page in the book without tracing. I chose a fairly simple page, he was sitting at a table with his arms crossed and holding a basketball. A few days later when the assignment was finished, I was pretty happy with it. And was certain I would it would look great hanging in the hallways at school. More days pass and in the middle of math, I was called down to the art room. I was absolutely terrified that I had done something wrong. I believe to this day that I had my first real panic attack then. To my great relief, I was completely wrong and the teacher had informed me that between two students, she had chosen my picture out of the whole 4th grade to be featured not only in the school art show, but also the town art show. I was ecstatic. Simply overjoyed. I don't think I ever bragged about anything to my friends as much as I had this particular event. MY ART was going to be seen by EVERYONE because it was GREAT. But while my art was going to be featured in a show, I wasn't going to be there. Mom couldn't take me, and thus I had no way of getting there. I wasn't mad, but rather just a bit sad that I wasn't going to be able to see other people's art nor see that which was physical acknowledgement that I had something beautiful to offer. But I was already well versed in disappointment, and thus thought nothing more of it. Kids are weird. And definitely more complicated than we give them credit for. I often wonder if getting farther away from certain ages is what creates this almost imaginary gap of intelligence that adults believe they have from children. That adults forget what children really know and pick up on simply because they, the adults, have more vocabulary and reasoning to describe their thoughts and actions. This time I was called to the Principal's office. Cue second massive panic attack at the tender age of 8. Unbeknownst to me, Mom made a phone call. Under no obligation or favor did Principal Shirack have to do this. But he offered to pick me up and take me to the art show. The one at school. Looking back on this particular moment, I don't remember how I felt or what I did after leaving his office that day, and the experience was rather visceral at the show. But as I examine the memory further, I am led to the conclusion that standing in front of the picture as it hung on the wall,--parents glancing at it as they looked for their own kid's drawing-- was a defining moment that helped create ME. Someone showed me a kindness that was by no means required. He could never name every child in the school individually, and he certainly didn't know me or my name until then. And yet he created a moment in my life that I will always look fondly upon and remember as an inspiration to be a good person. To be kind. And to help others. He gave me Opportunity. Years later I lost that drive for art, which I regret deeply even now. I developed terrible anxiety and fear of success. Believing that I was the manifestation of failure itself and deserved only such. Making commitments and not following through. Crying from stage fright and vowing to never try again... I found the inspiration again only recently, and I intend to take advantage of it, and yet I asked myself "How? After all this time, why now?" And I'll be damned because the answer was so freakishly simple that if I could kick myself in the shin, I would. I explored. I had no net. I had moved put of my parent's house. No deadlines. No limits. No one to impress. Everything that I described at the beginning of this vignette was something, that the very thought of, made me anxious or uncomfortable. My friends going off to college without me. Doing my taxes which I had never gotten right before. Wondering if alcoholism in my family would effect me too. Making car payments. Never learning how to play an instrument because it's too hard. Not getting tattoos because only a handful of people seem to think that it'll kill me when the amount of ink I want will probably only kill me when I'm already old. Finding a place to take my friends that is fun for both me and them so we're not stuck indoors because I don't have much mode of transportation. These are honestly only a few things that I've grown more confident about. They seem indifferent. But these changes, this new lifestyle that I've accepted, it's taking one day at a time. Living with long term goals achieved by short term success. Getting paychecks. Saving for an apartment. Earning good credit. All these things have made me happier. I don't feel left behind when it comes to things like college. My friends don't expect me to know what they're talking about. There's no longer a pressure to move through life as quickly as possible to achieve the long term retirement we all know and already want. I have less than others, and now I push to be more informed and advocate for what I believe to be morally good and just causes. I spend more time with my pencils because I have fun doing it, and it's no longer "just a distraction." I work till I bleed because every dollar on my paycheck is proof of personal achievement that I never appreciated before. It's made me kinder to people who have even less than I, more patient. If I see a homeless person and I only have a 5 in my wallet, every dollar goes in that little cup because I know what it's like not to have dinner. I don't do these things because I feel that I have to, but because I want to. These things have simply become integrated into my lifestyle because I have widened a perspective that was once just tunnel vision. Graduate high school, graduate college, focus on a job, work till retirement. Never before did I acknowledge the little victories because I was made to believe that my only focus should be on my future self and rather than who I am now. Now I'm sure if you're still reading this, that you've made it this far and you're probably asking "Alright what's your point?" If you have a mental disorder, or you're finding that your life isn't near any kind of fulfillment that you had hoped for by now, please don't be discouraged. Happiness isn't achieved in a day, but it's about building yourself. If you're afraid to do something because you doubt it, I implore you try it with someone you trust. If you're struggling with a class and can't get any of the material right, take a day off. Refresh yourself. Go play a videogame. Sleep. You are more than your grade. And getting one F, or even multiple, does not define you as a person. It sucks, but it's not actually Failure. If you didn't get that one job that you really wanted, that's ok. They don't deserve you anyways. Try something easier to obtain if only for the money itself. If you're worried that you're art isn't good enough because no one liked it when you posted it online, maybe that one like, or reblog you need will come from someone who hasn't made an account yet. They'll find you eventually. If you don't want to pay a bill because it means no food money, then by all means feed yourself. What good is a bill if you're dead? You are the only person who can decide what's best for you. If you make a mistake, you have your whole life to learn from it, however long that is or however long you want it to be. People change. You will change. The future will change with you. Be bold. Be adventurous. Be kind. Be you.
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