#source: my history of math class this semester

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local math student reporting to say: the addition of weird stretched or so images to paintings around that time was due to the start of exploring geometry beyond The Elements of Euclides and the popularization of Cartesian coordinates. artists started to explore projections in their drawing and that skull it's a prime example!

where is that renaissance painting with those two fellers and a giant fucking random skull on the floor that looks like it was accidentally stretched out in photoshop

[minnarr]

hey there! i hope that you’re doing well:D

this is. a weird thing to ask, and potentially time consuming, so by all rights feel free to ignore.

so, i found you through ao3 (your solo works are just— absolutely perfect, now i have the urge to rewatch the movie for the umpteenth time😂), and it says in your bio that you studied a history and literature degree.

so i’m in high school, and i… will have to apply to universities in a couple months, but i don’t actually know what i’d like to study. i know that i want to be a teacher (different from an office job, i know), and being a history teacher sounds like something that i’d be happy with/hopefully fairly good at. but— well, only one person in my family has ever completed a degree, and it was a business degree lol. i don’t know anyone who studies history and can’t attend open days (i live in the southern hemisphere, planning to study in the northern).

so— if it’s not too much trouble, this is me asking what it’s like? (i’m only familiar with high school history, and my country’s education standards are definitely behind places like the uk, so i don’t even know if that counts for much - we do a lot of worksheets and write some essays, with minimal reading/notes.)

i know that english lit isn’t something i’d be interested in - do i love writing? with all my heart. do i enjoy literary analysis? …not really - but history is something that i’ve been wondering about, and what i think i’ll apply for when i have to.

i really just want to know more about it. for example, there’s something called… historiography, i think, that’s come up in my research? people who studied history seem to detest it, but is it a) as horrible as all that and b) a huge part of the curriculum? what sort of tasks did you do for the history part of your degree: was it, assignments, essay writing, etc? is there a lot of reading? what sort of things can you do with a history degree (if teaching doesn’t work out, i don’t know if there’s a demand for history teachers as there is for maths, for example) — and would you recommend it?

is it a difficult degree, or one of the easier ones, or somewhere in between? and— oof, i know this is an awfully specific thing to ask, but what would a typical task or assessment have looked like? no specifics, ofc, this is the internet, but like… for example, an assessment we did last year was “write a source-based essay on what extent the new deal was successful” — could i have some kind of description like that, if you remember?

again— no pressure to answer! this is a very long and kind of all-over-the-place ask, and i don’t want to take this much time from someone i don’t know— i’m just curious, and in a bit of a panic as the application dates draw closer lol. but again, no pressure (and also — thank you for sharing your fics with us! your qi’ra voice is amazingly on point, and you write everyone from solo in a way that makes me think you went into the gffa and met them all)

i can only answer with my own experience: i went to a smallish university in the US, with a very small history program that isn't exactly the college's focus but had some excellent professors.

i had no idea people seem to detest historiography—anon, i think it's so neat. that's where history really came alive for me. historiography is just studying how history is/has been written. sources, methods, lenses, ways the consensus has changed. one of the capstone courses in my program was a theory class where we had to write a historiography paper over the course of the semester, and i got so much out of that. this isn't quite a historiography, but if you want to get fired up about the process of history, may i recommend silencing the past by michel-rolph trouillot? it's part about how history is made (and places in the process where voices get left out), part history, with a dash of biography, shortish and extremely readable.

i really can't answer to whether it's a huge part of the curriculum where you'll end up—curriculums vary where I'm from, and my particular school didn't place much emphasis on theoretical grounding—but imo it's important to understand not only what happened but how we came to our current understanding, how we can continue to try to understand the past.

once i got to upper level courses (again: US; the last two years of our four year degree, roughly, focus on our actual major), the emphasis was entirely on reading and writing essays. i had one teacher who gave exams, and lectures of course, but essays formed the bulk of my big grades. there is sooooo much reading. so much. i never quite learned to read at that volume, and more ended up learning the art of the productive skim. i wrote an apparently good paper on the communist manifesto and hard times having read maybe 30% of hard times. probably don't be me.

i have no idea about the job prospects for history majors; i never intended to do history as a profession, only as a thing worth learning along the way of just getting Any Bachelor's Degree. i work in accounting now and am perfectly happy with that.

re, difficulty and assessment, again i suspect that this is going to vary in the US and be next to useless if you're looking at, say, the UK. but i can describe my experience! i would not call my program difficult, largely because it played to my strengths (I'm a good essay writer) and gave me a ton of flexibility—few required courses, and my degree required non-history electives so my lit minor basically fit into that space. (i don't know if there's a point to doing a minor, but i was already deeply in the lit major social space).

the typical class structure in my upper levels was that we'd have assigned readings and lectures or in-class discussions, then about three papers scattered through the course of the semester. most of these were based on the assigned reading, just to assess how we used and analyzed what we were given. the only variation on this was my capstone classes, both of which were built around writing a research paper by the end of the semester, and the two classes that made us do an interview and write an "oral history." (scare quotes because i really don't know much about the methods of actual oral history).

so one professor would say, "using documents xyz and book a [all assigned readings], discuss Topic. i want to see you discuss authorship of the documents and these facets of the topic." with another prof, in the communist manifesto/hard times paper mentioned above, we were asked to discuss how these sources approached the "social question" in 19th century Europe, and given some suggestions to help us think about it.

also worth noting: i don't know how it is elsewhere, but my understanding is that with my undergraduate degree, i am definitely not ready to actually be a professional historian. if i wanted to, it would be a base to build on with graduate work, where you learn to actually *do* history.

i don't know if any of this is helpful to you, but best of luck, and i hope you land somewhere you're content with! and also, i am glad you enjoyed the fics.

[quibbs126]

You know what makes this whole situation worse is that it’s not that I constantly feel like garbage, or too tired to do anything, it’s that sometimes I will have ample amounts of free time, which I had allotted the previous day to be for work I need to do, but then that time will also be spent doing nothing productive because I’ve forgotten why doing all that stuff is such a big deal and just don’t feel it’s that important

That’s what happened to me today, I have literally been free all day, since my first class of the day starts at 2:20, and last night I told myself “you have all this free time tomorrow morning, you better use it!”. And yet, I’m sitting in my first class, waiting for class to start, still having done nothing

And I don’t even feel that bad about it, it’s just like “ah, I should have done something today”. Despite the fact that I know tomorrow, I’ll be having a mental breakdown with all the stuff I need to do that I didn’t do (let’s see, 3 quizzes and homeworks for Physics, which I still don’t understand well, a script for a podcast which requires me reading literary sources that I haven’t seen, and potentially a textbook I haven’t opened, and then Engineering homework, which I haven’t done the last two of, and not doing the homework is what screwed me over last semester so I can’t afford to keep doing this, and then on Thursday two Math homework’s I haven’t started, not to mention studying for a Physics exam on Friday, which may I remind you, I don’t understand that well. Oh and also a late assignment from another history class that I was told on SUNDAY I can still turn in for late penalty and I don’t know how long that applies). And even writing all that down, I still don’t feel like it’s that big a deal, despite the fact I know it is

It really feels like being a prisoner of my own mind, which can never be focused when it matters

[torrilin]

One of the best history courses I ever took was the history of civil engineering. At the start, I thought it was stupid, because it was all bridges. No mines. No canals. No dams. No water wheels. No chemistry. Mostly no physics. (As a college student, I didn’t know enough to care about fish traps, houses, city walls and gardens) Prof started us on bridges because that’s what had the strongest archeological evidence.

A lot of the class was about how long it REALLY took to build certain things. And about what it REALLY cost. And why those costs existed. Like the bends, which I knew about from other contexts, but hadn’t realized applied to bridge building. And who it was ok to leave permanently disabled by the bends to build a particular bridge, and why a particular society would go for this group and not that one.

The whole semester built up to a simple understanding of what is involved in New Orleans flood control. Extremely simple, because the city has many interlocking systems to mitigate water effects. And without the prior setup, we wouldn’t have been prepared for even the simple version. Because it turns out bridges are the starting point for a lot of problems in history, and they aren’t all technical. A lot of the time they are social. And oh boy are flood control choices in New Orleans influenced by social factors.

My professor made really thoughtful choices in how the course was structured. One set, to get it past university administration despite almost no historical research being available on the subject. 30 years on, a comparable course would be looking at a similarly dire textbook, reference book and research situation. History of science and engineering are not treated with much seriousness, and where they do get treated seriously it’s focused on war. And it’s often very triumphalist, which… isn’t helpful for learning the analysis skills a history course can teach. And the second set, to get student buy in. 18-22 year old boys are not looking for difficult social and political questions out of a class on the history of engineering. They want a more grown up version of The Way Things Work, or other similar kids books.

To this day, there’s a pretty large part of me that is angry that this kind of history isn’t taught in high school. Because guys who grow up to believe that technology is good and pure and can save us because math doesn’t lie… they want the classes. They sign up for them when they’re offered. They try to participate. And they’re often woefully underprepared for the requirements. (In a class of 30, aimed primarily at 2nd year and older students, I’d guess under 5 students had been required to work with primary sources for projects before this course)

(They also desperately need good statistics courses but that is not a problem in history departments)

[gukyi]

the love project | jjk

summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!

These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur. 

At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.

Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks. 

Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all. 

Your best friend would have to disagree.

“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”

“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”

He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.

Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode. 

Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments. 

But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.

“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”

Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did. 

He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself. 

“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half. 

“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”

“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”

“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”

“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”

“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you. 

“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.

There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off. 

The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything. 

So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong. 

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds. 

It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you. 

“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated. 

“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.

“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”

“What do you have to do?”

Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”

You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly. 

“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”

“Oh,” You say dumbly. 

“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”

“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you. 

Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”

“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”

“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”

“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years. 

“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”

He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost. 

Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about. 

“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”

“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”

He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.

“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”

“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless. 

“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”

“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.

You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together. 

Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest. 

Click.

“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?

From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”

“Well, how many do you have now?”

It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.

You wonder what the hell he sees in you. 

“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement. 

“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows. 

It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click. 

He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why. 

“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?

“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”

“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”

You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”

“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”

“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”

 “What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair. 

“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”

Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems. 

The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you. 

When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.

“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.

“I never want to miss anything.”

“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?

“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”

At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship. 

You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it. 

Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio. 

Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic. 

This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since. 

It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have. 

“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”

“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in. 

You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.

“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”

“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once. 

“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”

“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.

“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”

Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”

“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”

“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this. 

You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right? 

The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.

“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins. 

“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing. 

You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”

You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention. 

“Y/N!”

You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind. 

Another voice breaks you from your trance. 

“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide. 

The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes. 

“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”

“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to. 

Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you. 

“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”

The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”

Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you. 

“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”

“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you? 

What do you not know?

By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.

This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?

Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.

You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence. 

Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them? 

Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.

Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.

So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.

An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met. 

And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.

The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.

“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.

The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor. 

“Whoa.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook. 

“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”

“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”

“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date. 

“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”

“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”

“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this. 

“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”

Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”

“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”

“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”

“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”

You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you. 

“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”

“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief. 

Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”

He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it. 

Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it. 

And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory. 

Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away. 

You wonder what he sees. 

(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)

“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.

You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”

Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door. 

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”

There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.

“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”

Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door. 

For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left. 

The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind. 

You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet. 

[November 7th, 8:48PM]

You: you still game for that movie?

[November 7th, 8:50PM]

Jungkook: you finished your date already?

You: is that a yes or a no

Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that

You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over

The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.

Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side. 

But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet. 

Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive. 

“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist. 

“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him. 

“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them. 

You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”

Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing. 

Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter. 

“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”

To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash. 

He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them. 

“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.

Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him. 

Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”

The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card. 

“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black. 

“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 

Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure. 

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body. 

The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is. 

“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you. 

“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”

“I want to see it.”

“What? My project?”

“What else?”

“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”

You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”

“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”

“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?

“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown. 

“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back. 

You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further. 

“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”

And that’s good enough for you. 

You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.

You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.

“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”

“How do you know what feels right?”

Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him. 

The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet. 

So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?

Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment. 

The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester. 

Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there. 

Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that. 

Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?

Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right. 

“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”

“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk. 

Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room. 

You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind. 

Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world. 

As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well. 

The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen. 

There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written. 

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her. 

What?

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page… 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

“Y/N?”

You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling. 

“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom. 

“Uh—”

“Were you reading my computer screen?”

It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else. 

“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head. 

(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)

“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease. 

“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart. 

“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”

“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you. 

“So you are hiding something?”

“That’s not the point, the point is that—”

“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”

“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving. 

He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless. 

“Jungkook—?”

“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”

“Know what? What would I know?” 

Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating. 

“You’re in love with me?” You ask him. 

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”

You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”

Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine,” you remind him. 

“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”

And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain. 

You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing. 

But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure. 

He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth. 

He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about. 

By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out. 

“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.

“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”

Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process. 

You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world. 

“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”

“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”

“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”

“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”

“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”

“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious. 

It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side. 

“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her. 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[ground-zero-idiocies]

What the Fallout 4 Companions Teach at High School

twist on a classic post! just my opinions.

Cait: Physical Education. It lets her be insanely unhinged and keep a job.

Codsworth: Beginner Mathematics. Arithmetic, Pre-Algebra, and maybe Statistics. He loves his students, who are usually on the younger end (Grades 5, 6, and 7).

Curie: Biology, Chemistry, and Organic Chemistry. She’s a fantastic teacher, too. Always offers extra credit assignments.

Danse: Phys Ed, just like Cait. He’s a huge hardass though, and is a fucking nightmare for his students. Don’t miss a class.

Deacon: Drama!! He’s an amazing drama teacher too. Not enough money in the show’s budget? Sure, he’ll rob FBI headquarters for more!

Desdemona: She also teaches English, with an emphasis on the higher grades. Much like MacCready, she’s an almost absurdly harsh grader, but it’s all for her students’ betterment. And a college recommendation letter from her is unmatched.

Father: He teaches a course in psychology, and the course is ok. The source material is fascinating, but his lectures are often just insanely long ramblings of a nigh-insane old man.

Hancock: Chemistry. He’s an ok teacher, just fine. He wastes a ton of time talking about his Walter White days, but most of his students still pass the class with decent grades.

Gage: History. And he suuuuuuuuucks. No one is passing his class. 50 question true or false where every answer is true except for questions 8, 9, and 11? Absolutely. What a dick.

Jack Cabot: AP Chemistry and AP US history. He’s an expert in both and is an alright teacher, maybe slightly above average. His students usually don’t understand his 1800s slang though.

Longfellow: He’s that gruff history teacher who no one really loves but no one hates, either. He can be really weird and always smells like fish, but he’s an ok teacher. OR AT LEAST HE WOULD BE IF HE DIDN’T KEEP MICROWAVING TUNA SALAD IN THE TEACHER’S LOUNGE!!

MacCready: Woodshop. It’s not a graded class, but he’s hard on his students anyway. It’s not a Gage kind of hard though, he genuinely wants to see them succeed. Most of them end up pretty ok at woodworking by the end of the semester. And hey, he still has all 9 fingers!

Maxson: The bad Elder teaches US history because he refuses to pick up a book and read about any other country. Fuck him.

Nick Valentine: He would teach a Robotics class, obviously. In reality though, he would probably be Principle. He’s fair and just, but isn’t hesitant to suspend students who hurt other people. He’s generally well-liked though.

Piper: Ms. Wright is the school’s best English teacher. She only assigns good books to read, goes on impassioned rants that actually relate to the topic at hand (looking at you, Hancock) and never gives too much homework. She also runs the Journalism elective and works with Deacon on the plays in her spare time. Oh and she’s the one who keeps leaving those passive-aggressive post-it’s to Longfellow about the fish microwaving.

Preston: Mr. Garvey is a well sought-after teacher of civics and economics. He’s not the best in his department, but no one would bat an eye if yo said that he was your favorite teacher. He’s a kind man at heart and it shines through in his teaching.

Strong: Doesn’t work there anymore after kicking a kid in the ass when he fell in Dodgeball. His defense? “WEAK LITTLE MAN NO NEED LEGS.”

X6-88: Advanced (Insane) math. Calculus 2, AP trig, probably teaches grad student-level classes as definitely not mandatory for a decent grade electives. No one likes him, but he’s by far the most efficient teacher in the school, so he slides by. BUT HE’S A TOTAL BITCH. He doesn’t even eat fish, he’s allergic but he microwaves fish and blames it on Longfellow. Don’t get him wrong, Longfellow’s still responsible for like 70% of the fish incidents, but it’s not all him.

Moral of the story: STOP FUCKING MICROWAVING FISH IM GOING TO KILL YOU

[bogkeep]

hmmmmmmmmmm maybe i’ll write an Introspective Musing Post about my relationship to religion and their depiction in stories because i’ve pondering about this topic lately

so for those who are reading this and DON’T know what’s been going on...  there’s this webcomic i fell in love with some years ago, about six years actually, that depicts a post-apocalyptic fantasy/horror adventure set in the nordic countries. it had, and has still, some very uncomfortable flaws regarding racial representation, and the creator has historically not dealt very well with criticism towards it. it’s a whole Thing. my relationship with this comic has fluctuated a lot, since there are a lot of elements in it i DO love and i still feel very nostalgic about, and like idk i felt like i trust my skills in critical thinking enough to keep reading. aaand then the creator went a teensy bit off the deep end created a whole minicomic which is like... a lukewarm social media dystopia where christians are oppressed (and also everyone is a cute bunny, including our lord and saviour jesus christ). which is already tonedeaf enough considering there are religious people who DO get prosecuted for their faith, like, that’s an actual reality for a lot of people - but as far as i can tell, usually not christians. and then there’s an afterword that’s like, “anyway i got recently converted and realized i’m a disgusting human being full of sin who doesn’t deserve redemption but jesus loves me so i’ll be fine!! remember to repent for your sins xoxo” and a bunch of other stuff and IT’S KIND OF REALLY CONCERNING i have, uh, been habitually looking at the reactions to and discussions around this, maybe it’s not very self care of me but there’s a lot of overwhelming things rn and it’s fantastically distracting, yknow? like, overall this situation is fairly reminiscent of the whole jkr thing. creator of a series that is Fairly Beloved, does something hurtful, handles backlash in a weird way, a lot of people start taking distance from Beloved Series or find ways to enjoy it on their own terms, creator later reveals to have been fully radicalized and releases a whole manifesto, and any and all criticism gets framed as harassment and proving them right. of course, one of them is a super rich person with a LOT of media power and a topic that is a lot more destructive in our current zeitgeist, and the other is an independent webcomic creator, so it’s  not the same situation. just similar vibez ya feel as a result of this, i have been Thinking. and just this feels like some sort of defeat like god dammit she got me i AM thinking about the topic she wrote about!!! i should dismiss the whole thing!!! but thinking about topics is probably a good thing so hey lets go. me, i’m agnostic. i understand that this is a ‘lazy’ position to take, but it’s what works for me. i simply do not vibe with organized religion, personally. (i had the wikipedia page for ‘chaos magic’ open in a tab for several weeks, if that helps.) i was raised by atheists in a majorly atheist culture. christian atheist, i should specify. norway has been mostly and historically lutheran, and religion has usually been a private and personal thing. it turns out the teacher i had in 7th grade was mormon, but i ONLY found out because he showed up in a tv series discussing religious groups in norway later, and he was honestly one of the best teachers i have ever had - he reignited the whole class’ interest in science, math, and dungeons and dragons. it was a real “wait WHAT” moment for my teenage self. i think i was briefly converted to christianity by my friend when i was like 7, who grew up in a christian family (i visited them a couple times and always forgot they do prayers before dinner. oops!), but like, she ALSO made me believe she was the guardian of a secret magic orb that controls the entire world and if i told anybody the world would burn down in 3 seconds. i only suspected something was off when one day the Orb ran on batteries, and another day the Orb had to be plugged in to charge. in my defense i really wanted to be part of a cool fantasy plot. i had no idea how to be a christian beyond “uuuuh believe in god i guess” so it just faded away on its own. when i met this friend several years later, she was no longer christian. i think every childhood friend of mine who grew up in a christian family, was no longer christian when they grew up. most notably my closest internet friend whose family was catholic - she had several siblings, and each of them took a wildly different path, from hippie treehugger to laveyan satanist or something in that area. (i joined them for a sermon in a church when they visited my town. my phone went off during it because i had forgotten to silence it. oops!) ((i also really liked their mother’s interpretation of purgatory. she explained it as a bath, not fire. i like that.)) i have never had any personal negative experiences with christianity, despite being openly queer/gay/trans. the only time someone has directly told me i’m going to hell was some guy who saw me wearing a hoodie on norway’s constitution day. yeah i still remember that you bastard i’ve sworn to be spiteful about it till the day i die!! i’ve actually had much more insufferable interactions with the obnoxious kind of atheists - like yes yes i agree with you on a lot but that doesn’t diminish your ability to be an absolute hypocrite, it turns out? i remember going to see the movie ‘noah’ with a friend who had recently discovered reddit atheism and it was just really exhausting to discuss it with her. one of these Obnoxious Atheists is my Own Mother. which is a little strange, honestly, because she LOVES visiting churches for the Aesthetic and Architecture. we cannot go anywhere without having to stop by a pretty church to Admire and Explore. I’VE BEEN IN SO MANY CHURCHES FOR AN ATHEIST RAISED NON-CHRISTIAN. i’ve been to the vatican TWICE (i genuinely don’t even know how much of my extended family is christian. up north in the tiny village i come from, i believe my uncle is the churchkeeper, and it’s the only building in the area that did not get burnt down by the the nazis during ww2 - mostly because soldiers needed a place to sleep. still don’t know whether or not said uncle believes or not, because hey, it’s Personal) i think my biggest personal relationship to religion, and christianity specifically, has been academic. yeah, we learned a brief synopsis of world religions at school (and i remember the class used to be called ‘christianity, religion, and ethics’ and got changed to ‘religion, beliefs, and ethics’ which is cool. it was probably a big discourse but i was a teen who didnt care), but also my bachelor degree is in art history, specifically western art history because it’s a vast sprawling topic and they had to distill it as best they could SIGHS. western art history is deeply entangled with the history of the church, and i think the most i’ve ever learnt about christianity is through these classes (one of my professors wrote an article about how jesus can be interpreted as queer which i Deeply Appreciate). i also specifically tried to diversify my academic input by picking classes such as ‘depiction of muslims and jewish people in western medieval art’ and ‘art and religion’ when i was an exchange student in canada, along with 101 classes in anthropology and archaeology. because i think human diversity and culture is very cool and i want to absorb that knowledge as best as i can. i think my exchange semester in canada was the most religiously diverse space have ever been in, to be honest. now as an adult i have more christian friends again, but friends who chose it for themselves, and who practice in ways that sound good and healthy, like a place of solace and community for them. the vast majority of my friends are queer too, yknow?? i’ve known too many people who have seen these identities as fated opposites, but they aren’t, they’re just parts of who people are. it’s like... i genuinely love people having their faiths and beliefs so much. i love people finding that space where they belong and feel safe in. i love people having communities and heritages and connections. i deeply respect and admire opening up that space for faith within any other communities, like... if i’m going to listen to a podcast about scepticism and cults, i am not going to listen to it if it’s just an excuse to bash religion. i think the search for truth needs to be compassionate, always. you can acknowledge that crystals are cool and make people happy AND that multi level marketing schemes are deeply harmful and prey on people in vulnerable situaitons. YOU KNOW???? so now’s when i bring up Apocalypse Comic again. one of the things i really did like about it was, ironically, how it handled religion. in its setting, people have returned to old gods, and their magic drew power from their religion. characters from different regions had different beliefs and sources. in the first arc, they meet the spirit of a lutheran pastor, who ends up helping them with her powers. it was treated as, in the creators own words, ‘just another mythology’. and honestly? i love that. it was one of the nicest depictions i’ve seen of christianity in fiction, and as something that could coexist with other faiths. I Vibe With That. and then, uh, then... bunny dystopia comic. it just... it just straight up tells you christianity is literally the only way to..?? be a good person??? i guess?? i’m still kind of struggling to parse what exactly it wanted to say. the evil social media overlord bird tells you the bible makes you a DANGEROUS FREETHINKER, but the comic also treats rewriting the bible or finding your own way to faith as something,, Bad. The Bible Must Remain Unsullied. Never Criticize The Bible. also, doing good things just for social media clout is bad and selfish. you should do good things so you don’t burn in hell instead. is that the message? it reads a lot like the comic creator already had the idea for the comic, but only got the urge to make it after she was converted and needed to spread the good word. you do you i guess!! i understand that she’s new to this and probably Going Through Something, and this is just a step on her journey. but the absolute self-loathing she described in her afterword... it does not sound good. i’m just some agnostic kid so what do i know, but i do not think that kind of self-flagellating is a kind faith to have for yourself. i might not ever have been properly religious, but you know what i AM familiar with? a brain wired for ocd and intrusive thoughts. for a lot of my life i’ve struggled with my own kind of purity complex. i’ve had this really strange sensitivity for things that felt ‘tainted’. i’ve experienced having to remove more and more words from my vocabulary because they were Bad and i did not want to sully my sentences. it stacked, too - if a word turned out to be an euphemism for something, i could never feel comfortable saying it again. i still struggle a bit with these things, but i have confronted these things within myself. i’ve had to make myself comfortable with imperfection and ‘tainted’ things and accept that these are just, arbitrary categories my mind made up. maybe that’s the reason i can’t do organized religion even if i found one that fit for me - just like diets can trigger disordered eating, i think it would carve some bad brainpaths for me. so yeah i’m worried i guess! i’m worried when people think it’s so good that she finally found the correct faith even if it’s causing all this self-hate. is there really not a better way? or are they just trusting she’ll find it? and yeah it’s none of my concern, it’s like, i worry for jkr too but i do not want her within miles of my trans self thANKS. so like, i DO enjoy media that explores faith and what it means for you. my favourite band is the oh hellos, which DOES draw on faith and the songwriter’s experience with it. because of my religious iliteracy most of it has flown over my head for years and i’m like “oh hey this is gay” and then only later realize it was about god all along Probably. i like what they’ve done with the place. also, stormlight archive - i had NO idea sanderson was mormon, the way he writes his characters, many of whom actively discuss religion and their relationship to it. i love that about the books, honestly. Media That Explores Religion In A Complex And Compassionate Way... we like that i’ve been thinking about my own stories too, and how i might want to explore faith in them. most of my settings are based on magic and it’s like, what role does religion have in a world where gods are real and makes u magic. in sparrow spellcaster’s story, xe creates? summons? an old god - brings them to life out of the idea of them. it’s a story about hubris, mostly. then there’s iphimery, the story where i am actively fleshing out a pantheon. there’s no doubt the gods are real in the fantasy version of iphimery, they are the source of magic and sustain themselves on slivers of humanity in exchange. but in the modern version, where they are mostly forgotten? that’s some room for me to explore, i think. especially the character of timian, who comes from a smaller town and moves to a large and diverse city. in the fantasy story, the guardian deity chooses his sister as a vessel. in the modern setting, that does not happen, and i don’t yet know what does, but i really want timian to be someone who struggles with his identity - his faith, his sexuality, the expectations cast upon him by his hometown... i’m sure it’s a cliché story retold through a million gay characters but i want to do it too okay. i want to see him carve out his own way of existing within the world because i care him and want to see him thrive!!! alrighty i THINK that’s all i wanted to write. thanks if you read all of this, and if you didn’t that’s super cool have a nice day !

[maybeimamuppet]

128√e980

“Hey, Damian,” Cady calls as she plops her lunch tray onto the table. “Janis isn’t here?”

“No, I thought she was with you,” Damian replies, taking another bite of his burger.

“She was in homeroom, did she get sick?” Cady asks, now anxious for her girlfriend.

“She would’ve told one of us, she always does. We going Janjan hunting?” Damian shoves the rest of his food in his mouth, holding out a hand to help Cady up. She puts what she can into her backpack to eat later and takes his hand with a determined nod.

——-

She wasn’t in their usual bathroom, so Damian leads them through the corridors towards the art rooms. Cady is too busy trying not to worry for her girlfriend to pay much attention to their surroundings, but she does grin a little as she spies one of Janis’ recent paintings hanging on the wall outside the room.

Damian gestures for her to go in first, so she knocks lightly and pushes the door open. The room is dark other than the sunlight streaming through the window, and silent other than the hum of the air conditioning thrumming through the building. She’s about to turn around to leave when she hears a few quiet sobs come from the easel storage area.

“Janis?” she calls, wincing as she hears a thump and a quiet “ow, shit” come from the same area. They’ve definitely found her, at least. They put their bags down on the counter by the door and head over, working their way through the maze of easels and tables of paint, peeking around one as Damian finally spies the toe of one of Janis’ boots poking out from behind another counter.

“Janis? What are you doing back here, we were waiting for you-“ Damian tries to say, getting cut off by Janis suddenly sobbing much harder. He and Cady lock eyes knowingly as they sink down next to her, she’s having a panic attack.

“Oh, darling, what happened? Can I touch you?” Cady says, suddenly much more worried than she was a few seconds ago. Janis hasn’t had a panic attack in almost six months. She nods quickly, reaching out for a hug. Cady shifts positions and hauls her into her lap with just a bit of effort, rocking them gently as her girlfriend wraps her arms around her neck and sobs brokenly into her shoulder. “What happened, mpendwa? Why are you so upset?” She murmurs, kissing her hair lightly as Damian starts rubbing Janis’ back to help calm her.

“I-I-“ Janis chokes out, but she’s still crying too hard to speak. She sinks back into Cady’s embrace and cries harder, staining her top with mascara. Cady doesn’t care. She gestures for Damian to grab her backpack as she continues gently shushing her girlfriend, still rocking them slowly. He rushes to grab it and bring it to her, unzipping it so she can root through with one hand to find her small water bottle. She pulls it out and unscrews the lid, gently pulling Janis’ face away from her chest and handing it to her.

“Here, darling, drink some water. Shh, sweetheart, you’re crying so hard. This’ll help a little,” she says lowly, looking to Damian with a concerned grimace as Janis takes little sips from it, hiccuping slightly between them. She takes deep breaths for a second and her sobs slow slightly, but another malicious thought passes through and she’s crying again. “Oh, mpenzi, no,” Cady coos sadly. She suddenly remembers something she read about when she was researching panic attacks and how to help Janis when she got them.

“Jellybean, can you do something for me?” Janis nods quickly, trying desperately to focus on Cady instead of inside her head. “Can you tell me five things you can see?”

“Um- um, your eyes. P-pretty. And Damian. And-um,” her eyes dart frantically around the room. “D-desks, and-and your bag, and my-my painting.” She sobs out.

“Good, my girl. Now take a deep breath and tell me four things you can hear,” Cady says softly.

“Air-air conditioning. And- there’s a bird outside, sounds- sounds pretty. Uh- me. Me c-crying, and um. Um, you t-talking.”

“Great job, sweetheart. Another deep breath, and tell me three things you can feel.”

“Uhm- you’re holding me, and D-Damian touching my back, and-and the floor is really hard,” She breathes, calming slightly.

“You’re doing so good, darling. Now tell me two things you can smell,” Cady comforts, pulling her just a bit closer. Janis told her pressure helps, just like her meltdowns.

“You-um. Your perfume, I like it-it. And uh. Um. The paint remover stuff,” Janis chokes out, trying to match her breathing.

“Good job, dearest, you’re almost done. What’s one thing you can taste?”

“Um. Your water bottle. Like met-metal,” She manages, her sobs gradually slowing to a stop as she goes totally boneless in Cady’s lap.

“How do you feel, Janjan?” Damian asks, taking hold of her for a second so Cady can get more comfortable before handing her back. It hurts a little, to know he’s not her main source of comfort anymore. But he knows Cady’s good for her, and that the bond he has with her will always be special to both of them. That’s all that really matters.

“Shitty, tired, the usual. My chest hurts,” Janis says quietly, sniffling a little. Damian grabs her some damp paper towels to clean her face with.

“Can you tell me what happened now, Jellybean?” Cady asks, cradling her carefully.

“I’m- I’m failing math and science,” Janis mutters, on the verge of tears again. “B-but I need those credits to-to graduate, they said if I can’t get my grades up by the end of the month that I won’t get to walk and I have to make them up in s-summer school.” Janis is supposed to leave for college with Damian in July, summer school means she’d have to withdraw for her first semester.

“Oh, my bluejay, no wonder you were so upset. But why didn’t you tell me, darling? I can tutor you in math, you know that,” Cady exclaims, kissing her red cheek softly.

“Yeah, and I can help with science, Janjan, you’re not doing this alone,” Damian adds, rubbing her arm.

“I-I can’t pay either of you for that right now. And I didn’t want you to think I’m s-stupid,” Janis chokes. Cady hands her the water bottle again, which she takes gratefully.

“Janis, we would never. We know you better than that,” Damian admonishes. “You’re top of our class in English, you’re nearly acing history, you just need a little boost to get caught up in math and science.”

Cady pipes up again, adding, “And you don’t have to pay us, Jayjay. You helped me with English last month and didn’t make me pay, remember?”

“Yeah, I-I just feel like I’d be taking advantage or-or something, I don’t know,” Janis mumbles.

“You won’t be, Jan. But if it bugs you that much there’s other ways you can pay us,” Damian offers. “Like, for every hour I spend doing science with you, you have to watch one episode of Drag Race with me or something.”

That gets a weak grin out of Janis. “I can live with that. W-what about you, Caddy?” She asks weakly, seeming almost afraid.

“There’s that beautiful smile,” Cady chuckles, leaning down to kiss her. “How about... every hour of math, I get half an hour as little spoon and... three really good kisses?”

Janis flushes scarlet. “I can do that,” she mutters, embarrassed.

I love you, is what Cady wants to say.

“Do you want to start tonight? I have a Mathletes competition, you can come watch and then we can work at my house after,” is what she actually says, all of them jumping as the warning bell rings. Janis nods as Cady passes her to Damian again. “Okay. I can’t miss class or I can’t compete, but I’ll come check on you after sixth, okay?” She scoops up her things, hugging Damian and kissing Janis goodbye as she nuzzles further into his hold.

——-

“The limit does not exist!” Cady yells, slamming her buzzer and securing the win for her team. The boys all cheer and rush up to hug her, Kevin congratulating her on her ‘schquillz’ as he does every competition. She shakes the other teams’ hands before grabbing her water bottle and going to find Janis in the crowd.

She shrieks as Janis sneaks up behind her, scooping her up and spinning her around before setting her down again. “Janis! You scared me,” she breathes, putting a hand over her heart. “What did you think, sweetheart?”

I think I love you, Janis wants to say.

“I think you look adorable in your uniform and that you have your work cut out for you because I didn’t understand anything you said,” is what she answers instead, bending down to kiss her.“I’m not complaining, the longer we spend working the more snuggles and kisses I get,” Cady laughs. “Let me grab my stuff and then we can go.” She says, pulling Janis down for another kiss before rushing off.

———

“I’m gonna change really quick, you can put your stuff wherever. I’ll be right back,” Cady says as they enter her bedroom. Janis puts her bag down on the bed, sitting next to it and looking around. She smiles as she spies some of her paintings hanging on the wall, just above Cady’s desk and across from her bed. She picks up the little stuffed lion she bought for her on their first date and holds it close for a minute.

“I named it Tesoro,” Cady chirps as she comes back, now wearing some cozy shorts and one of Janis’ hoodies. “It’s Italian for darling. Reminds me of you,” She says, getting comfy on her bed and gesturing for Janis to sit on her lap.

“How many languages do you speak?” Janis asks as she pulls out her textbook and nestles into Cady.

“Seven, I think. And ASL. I guess that’s eight, actually. Now what are you working on?” She asks, looking over Janis’ shoulder as she flips to the right page.

“This,” Janis huffs as she points to a problem. “I don’t get any of it.”

“That’s a factorial, dearest. You multiply it,” Cady hums.

“Oh.” Janis says, picking up a pencil and scratching an answer down in her notebook. “Like this?”

“Exactly. See, you got this stuff, you just need a little push,” Cady grins, rewarding her with a soft kiss behind her ear. “Now try this,” she grabs Janis’ pencil and writes down another sample problem for her to solve.

“Caddy?”

“Hmm?”

“I can’t read that. Your handwriting is terrible,” Janis laughs.

“Ugh, I know,” Cady growls, rewriting the problem neater this time.

They work on that section for a while, until they’re sure Janis has it down pat. Cady gently corrects her if she makes a mistake and cheers her on with little kisses when she gets one right. Janis thinks she likes this system quite a lot.

Eventually they both get tired, Janis needing a break. She turns around in Cady’s embrace as she lays them both down, resting her head on Cady’s chest and listening to her heartbeat. She gives a contented hum and wriggles closer as Cady starts playing with her hair, twisting her two-toned locks around her fingers and scratching her side shave gently.

They lie like that for a while, lost in peaceful silence with one another. Until Janis’ phone pings with a text from her mom, telling her it’s time to come home. Regretfully, she pulls herself slowly out of Cady’s embrace and starts packing her things back into her bag.

“No, stay,” Cady whines sleepily, still reaching for her. I love you.

“I’d love to, but my mom needs me home,” Janis replies, standing and coming to kiss her goodbye. “Thank you for helping me.” I love you, too.

Janis tucks her in, kissing her sweetly one last time. “See you tomorrow, Peanut.”

———-

Over the next few weeks, Cady and Damian have tutoring sessions with Janis whenever they’re available, sometimes squeezed in during rehearsals or Mathletes practice. She’s making a lot of progress, but her grades still aren’t where they need to be.

Right now, she’s sitting next at her desk in her room, cat on her lap and girlfriend sitting next to her. She’s struggling through a new topic, getting progressively more tense as they go on. Cady’s trying her best, but something just isn’t clicking in her brain.

Eventually, nothing Cady’s saying is registering. All she can hear are the thoughts swirling sadistically through her head. You’re out of time. You’re failing. You’re a failure. You’re never going to get it. Everyone thinks you’re an idiot. They’re all going to leave, this is it. It’s a wonder they haven’t already. She hasn’t moved for a while, Cady thought she was just thinking until she lets out a choked sob, hot tears dripping onto her paper.

“Jan? Oh, Bluejay, what’s the matter?” Cady coos, gently removing Pancakes from her lap and pulling her into tight embrace.

“I’m running out of time,” Janis wails into her shoulder. “I’m running out of time and- and I’m not doing well enough, my teachers are- are gonna be mad and everyone’s gonna leave and I’m gonna die alone under a bridge-"

“Whoa, darling, what? Where is this coming from, sweetheart? You’ve still got about a week and a half to get your grades up, and you’ve got that test on Friday, that’ll help. I’ll be here all day, every day until you get this stuff if that’s what it takes. And you know damn well I’m not going anywhere, especially not because of something like this,” Cady says sternly but gently, cradling Janis’ cheeks and looking into her watery brown eyes. “You’re the most precious thing in my life.” I love you. “You’re absolutely brilliant, my darling, I’m in awe of you every day.” I love you so much. “We just need to translate that to this, and that can take some time. You’ll make it out of this, sweetheart. And if you somehow die under a bridge anyway, I’ll be right there with you. Okay?”

Janis is still a little too emotional to register most of what she says specifically, but she gets the general message. Unfortunately, it sends another flood of emotion through her and she starts sobbing again. With relief this time, but still.

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry,” Cady mutters frantically. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. Do you want me to sing for you?”Janis nods, leaning into Cady’s embrace even further. She pulls her in, adjusting her hold to cradle Janis like a baby, her head resting in the crook of her elbow. She sings an old Kenyan lullaby someone taught her, crooning softly to her in Swahili as she dries the tears from under Janis’ eyes, grinning as she watches her contently and her sobs gradually stop again.

“Thank you, Caddy,” Janis sniffles once she finishes. I love you, she adds in her head.

“Always, mpenzi. Let’s take a break, hm? Have you taken your medicines today?” Janis shakes her head softly, refusing to look her in the eye. “Darling, no wonder you’re having such a hard time. I’m gonna start reminding you to take them in the mornings. Can I leave for a minute to go get them and get us a snack?” Janis clings to her tighter for a second but nods, letting go with another snuffle. Cady kisses her gently, and then disappears to the kitchen.

Janis rubs her eyes, wincing at the mascara staining her hands as she pulls them away. She grabs a tissue to clean herself up, then looks around for a second. Cady left her Mathletes jacket hanging on the back of her chair, maybe she wouldn’t mind if Janis borrowed it, just for a minute. She picks it up, trudging over to her bed before flopping onto it. Cady is much smaller than her, so there’s no way in hell it’ll fit, but she lays the soft fabric over herself like a blanket. She breathes in Cady’s comforting scent of rosewater perfume and books, fiddling with the end of a sleeve that’s been softened from Cady rubbing it against her lips whenever she’s nervous or trying to focus.

That’s how Cady finds her when she comes back in, carrying Janis’ prescription bottle and a plate with a massive tower of toaster waffles, Janis’ go-to unhappy times food. “Is that my jacket?” She teases, startling Janis a little. She nods sheepishly before nestling further into it as Cady grabs her water bottle from the desk, handing it to her so she can take her pills.

“Can I try something?” Cady asks once she’s gotten them down and is munching quietly on one of her waffles. Janis nods, suspicious. “Okay, put the waffle down for a second and don’t ask any questions.” Before Janis can even get a word out, Cady has grabbed her fuzzy pancake shaped blanket and swaddled her so tightly in it that she can barely move. She left her arms out, and hands back her waffle once she’s satisfied with Janis’ impromptu straitjacket.

“Caddy, what the fuck is this?” Janis asks, not totally complaining.

“You’re a Jancake! Get it? Like pancake but- but your name? Never mind, what Disney movie do you want to start with?” Cady replies, grabbing her computer and dragging her Janis sushi roll closer as she brings up Disney+.

“Tangled?” Janis asks sheepishly, sinking further into her cocoon as Cady snuggles up to her.

“Tangled it is.”

I love you so much, Cady thinks to herself, watching Janis nibble happily on her snack and dance along as best she can with the opening music.

And they spend the evening like that, feeding each other little bits of waffle and binging sappy movies. Homework can wait, sometimes.

————-

“You got all these right, Jayjay! I told you you could do it,” Cady cheers at her, setting her paper down and hugging her quickly. She’s down to the wire now, studying for her test tomorrow, her last chance to boost her math grade. Damian had somehow managed to drag her science grade up, so she had that under control now. “Now try this one.” Cady says, carefully scratching down another equation and sliding it in front of her.

“I thought we finished? That was the last unit,” Janis mutters, confused.

“This one’s a bonus. Just try it,” Cady begs, passing her the pencil. Janis looks down and sees:

128√e980

Oh boy. This doesn’t even look similar to what they’ve been doing, she has no idea how to even begin to solve it. Janis is a firm believer that letters do not belong in math, once the alphabet had gotten involved her brain had checked out.

“Um...” She hums, tapping her pencil against the desk lightly.

“Do you want a hint?” Cady asks, moving to take the pencil, sliding the page back in front of her once Janis gives a shy nod. Janis is more than a little confused when she simply erases part of it and then moves it back in front of her. Until she looks and sees it now roughly reads:

i love you

She snaps her head to look at Cady, blinking at her a few times in shock before throwing her arms around her neck and kissing her passionately. Cady sinks into her, cupping her face with one hand and tangling the other into her hair. Slowly, she crawls into Janis’ lap, straddling her waist and pressing herself impossibly closer.

Eventually, they have to break apart to breathe. “I love you,” Janis gasps the second their lips part. She moves her arms to Cady’s waist, holding her tightly. “I love you so much, I love you.”

“I love you, too. So much,” Cady responds, pressing their foreheads together and staring into Janis’ brown doe eyes. A wide grin suddenly spreads across her face, Janis’ own matching it to a slightly lesser extent.

“What are you all smiley about?”

“I said it first. I win,” Cady giggles.

“Hey! I said it out loud first. You cheated,” Janis pouts, smiling again as Cady kisses it away. “We are done for the day for real now, right?” She asks.

“Mmhmm. You’re gonna ace it tomorrow,” Cady says, nuzzling their noses together.

“So... you wanna cash in a few of those kisses and cuddle hours I owe you now? I think we both deserve a reward for this,” Janis smirks, laughing a little as Cady nods rapidly. She scoops her up and carries her over to her bed, pulling a blanket over them as Cady presses up against her side and rests her head on her chest. “You wanna sleep over?”

“Yes please,” Cady hums, crawling more on top of her and wriggling closer. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Janis teases, playing with a stray curl.

Cady leans up and presses their lips together. “I love you most. Now hush,” she mutters, laying back down on her chest.

“Yes ma’am.”

——-

“Caddy! Damian! Guys, look!” Janis yells down the hallway, rushing up to them where they’re chatting by their lockers.

“Whoa, Janjan, you good?” Damian huffs out, catching her as she barrels into him.

“Yes! Look,” She shoves a slightly crumpled paper at them, Cady peeking over Damian’s arm to see.

“Your report card?”

“Just look at it, Dame! Come on,” Janis begs, so they do.

Anatomy & Physiology: B-

Advanced World History: A-

Honors English 4: A

Algebra: B-

French 4: B+

Advanced Art & Painting: A

“Jan, this is incredible! You did it,” Damian cheers, hugging her tightly.

“Thanks, Damdam.”

“Bluejay, oh my god! I’m so proud of you!” Cady squeals, giving her another tight embrace once Damian lets her go.

“You seem surprised,” Janis teases.

“I’m not! I’m just proud of you, loser,” Cady says, pulling her down for a kiss. “You did great, my love.”

“I couldn’t have without you, baby,” Janis murmurs back, kissing her again softly.

Damian pretends to gag from behind them. “Ew, too much love!”

“Aww, you want a kiss too?” Janis teases as she reaches out for him, laughing when he dashes away. She goes back and pulls her redhead close again as the halls clear out for the day. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Who would’ve thought math would ever make me so happy?

-----

thank you for reading! please let me know what you thought!

lots of love, ezzy

[freshapplecider]

I’m really intrigued by your answer to your last ask! (about the psychology and all) Could you possibly expand on that or link some resources?

In my limited experience, I’ve always felt this sense of censorship and self-sacrifice when I’m in a relationship. To some extent, I’ve convinced myself that it’s a beautiful thing to make space in your life to connect and grow with someone, even to the point of supreme compromise, but I feel like the people I’ve been romantically involved with just don’t understand that in quite the same way…which leads me to me believe and feel that a loving relationship with myself makes me feel more fulfilled…at least for the time being…

Yeah, but I’m not 100% comfortable answering because literally all of my sources are from college courses and I cleared my history after this semester ended, soooo I guess take it all with a grain of salt if you feel so inclined! 

I graduated this past semester and I took a few social psychology and human sexuality classes over 6 years; the only book I still have is from general human sexuality (it's called Human Sexuality: Diversity in Contemporary Society, by Yarber and Sayad, published in 2019). I believe the research is touched on in the chapter on relationships, which isn't super extensive because it's relatively new, but basically men tend to "date down" meaning they choose partners who don't exceed their own success as individuals, especially when it comes to intelligence. There was a particular study where men and women were made to take a difficult math test, before which these men claimed to like intelligent women, but after the women scored better than them, the men rated the women as less attractive. So the research suggests that if you're a woman who ticks all of these boxes herself (objective physical attractiveness, intelligence, success, etc.) it's more difficult to find an equal match because the men who do meet you where you are in these areas don't want to date you because they aren't looking for an equal partner. There is even more research about how men tend to view their own relational success in terms of how many sexual partners they can have whereas women view relational success in terms of commitment, so "successful" women have a hard time finding men who want to commit (this was from a video from a social psych course I took this year, I believe it was a TedXTalk that I cannot find). Obviously there are exceptions to this - these are just very general findings, and new research is done every day. But it does help put things in perspective for me personally because I used to view the fact that I haven't been in a relationship as a personal failing or a result of lacking something essential to be loved, when in reality it isn't all about me.

I've had feelings similar to yours as well and it has helped to develop a stronger sense of myself, which I think is incredible and valuable and essential to have any healthy and good relationship in the future, but I have also seen the evidence and research on how important it is to have loving partnerships even when you are working on yourself, romantic and otherwise (there is another video from my social psych class this past semester that I remembered by title, so here’s that). In any case, I just think relationships are so essential to our lives, but they are so commodified under capitalism that they are made so much more complicated than they need to be and it leaves too many people unhappy and unhealthy. Moral of the story is we can survive on our own and in a lot of ways we can gain insight into ourselves from our solitude, but we literally need other people if we ever hope to grow beyond our very limited senses of ourselves.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #462

i am way too tired to mentally flip through lyrics to put here, rip

Who in your family has been married the longest? (and how long?) I have zero idea. When did you last travel alone? Where were you going? The last time I visited Sara in Illinois. Do you take your shoes off when you come inside? Yes. What was the first color you ever dyed your hair? I think I got purple highlights? What was the first social media site you ever used? MySpace. Do you have any exes you really regret dating? One. Of all your friends & family, who has the most nicely-decorated home? Sara's house is lovely. Have you ever been catcalled? No. Are you allergic to any dogs? I might be. Have you ever touched a plant and had hives shoot up your arm? No. Do you think dragonflies are cool? Absolutely! What’s your favorite thing to draw? Meerkats!! Did you toss your hat in the air at graduation? Not high. I wanted to keep it. Do you like fudge? I CAN FUCKING DESTROY SOME FUDGE. Are you an affectionate person? Very. Name something you have to do today: Girt and I are hangin', making fun of bad Netflix anime and going to Buffalo Wild Wings. :^) Would you ever write to a death row inmate? No. People don't get on death row for no reason. I ain't got shit to say to them. Do you reckon online friendships are real? No fucking shit. Most of my most genuine friendships began online. Do you like Slipknot? Yep. Can we talk about how fuckin BADASS Corey's new mask is btw?????????? What do you think of Gorillaz? I like "Feel Good Inc." and one other song I can't remember the name of. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? BOTH!!!!! :') What is the cutest Halloween costume for a baby to wear? GUYS I recently saw a picture of a little baby dressed up as a Little Oogie Boogie and it made my ovaries cry. Which of your friends is the tallest? Which of them is the shortest? Jesus, Girt is a giant. I don't know about my shortest... If you could re-paint your bedroom, what color would you choose? Pastel pink. :') What has been the best night of your life so far? Why? Probably something sexual so let's keep it on the down low lmfaooo Would you ever even think about taking part in a wet t-shirt contest? Uh, no. Even if I WAS confident in my body. Is you hair color the same as it was when you were a baby? No. It was dirty blonde. Have you ever been in trouble for being too loud? Ha, yeah, at school with friends. Not big trouble or anything, we were just hushed. Did you ever attend a wedding that was a complete disaster? No. What is something that you were surprised you were able to do? Hm. What is the most bullshit-sounding true fact that you know? Male cats have spiked penises lkasdjfal;kje;kjwr it's something to do with preventing other tomcats from mating with her. What Oreo flavor is your favorite? Gimme that Double Stuffed, friend. Sour gummy worms or plain gummy worms? SOUR. Ever been in a talent show? How many times? What did you do? Nope. Ever try out for the talent show and not make it? Did you cry? Nope. What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever cried about? Y'all when I was a very little kid, during my older sister's b-day party, I sobbed because I couldn't pin the tail properly on the donkey lmaoooo How do you feel about the use of nuclear weapons? Absolutely fucking barbaric. What song has the most meaning to you? "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy Osbourne. What is your favourite dinosaur? Spinosaurus!!!! :') Have you ever made bread? No. Has anything ever fallen asleep on you? Pets, a baby I was watching after, and Jason. Ever been dominated in a game you were/are really good at? yep alskdjfla;jwej Have you ever decided to set fire to something out of anger? No. Would you rather be a house pet or a wild animal? Wild animal, I guess? Have you ever listened to a group of chanting monks? I haven't. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? Probably of Teddy. I've still yet to decide on the total design of his tribute tat I'm getting. Do you like the smell of men’s colognes better than woman’s perfumes? I think so, yeah. How mad would you be if someone copied your original work (story, poem)? I'd be pretty fuckin pissed. Have you ever blown something up in science class? Ha, no. Have you ever gotten a serious wound from shaving? Not serious, no. Have you invented anything, only to find out it actually exists? I feel like I have? Ever realize you never truly LOVED your first love? Absolutely not. I loved him. Would you want a Bachelor/Bachelorette party before you get married? Sure, sounds fun. Do you prefer pads, tampons or something else? As of very recently, I returned to using pads. I used tampons for most of my maturity, but I got annoyed with them for TMI reasons and resorted back to pads, even though I don't like them either. Have you ever dated a model? No. What is your ultimate goal in life? To die happy with my life and what I (hopefully) accomplished. What colour are the socks you’re wearing today? I’m not wearing any. Who was the last person you sent a Facebook message to and what did you say? Girt. It was something regarding how I once considered doing the suicide mission at BWW where you eat a select number of their hottest wings, but I didn't wanna die via chicken. :^) Are you tall, short or average? Would you change this? I'm average in height. I wouldn't change it, nah. Especially now that Girt and I are together the ridiculous height difference is hilarious but also cute lmao. Have you ever worked in a store while someone shoplifted there? Like, while I was there? No. Have you ever had casual sex? Nahhhh. What’s your favourite flavour of frosting? Chocolate. @_@ When you think of your childhood, are the memories mostly happy or sad? Mostly happy, I guess. What is it like being you? Is it enjoyable? It's very boring with few sources of joy. What are your thoughts on the cause of homosexuality? I would *assume* it's a genetic mutation. Reason being, having a romantic partnership without the ability to reproduce defies the motives of science. There is nothing, absolutely NOTHING, wrong with said (and hypothetical) genetic mutation, though. Mutations are just another part of science. They occur naturally. What subjects did you find most interesting in school? Least? Most interesting: literature/English (especially reading like, old mythology and epics and stuff like that), LOTS of branches of science (but primarily genetics), art, and I looooved my four semesters of German. Least: ANY and ALL math, history, economics, social studies... that kind of stuff. Which do you enjoy more–hot or cold beverages? Cold, for sure. What were some of your favorite bands from childhood? Green Day was one. Would you be more afraid of drowning or being buried alive? Buried alive, for sure. It would be much, much slower. Should you really be doing something more productive right now? Well, I SHOULD be sleeping. Today's going to be a long day, because when Girt comes over, he has a tendency to not leave until like fuckin midnight or later alksdjfl;waje Have you ever lived out of your car? No. Does your family own more than two houses? HUNNY we r poor. A relative just committed a very serious crime, do you turn them in? It depends on the exact crime, but odds are, yes. If you're endangering others, byyyyeeee. You’re in the woods, alone, at night…are you honestly not afraid? Bitch I'm terrified. I have zero survival skills. You are on life support, what would you want a loved one to do about it? For the love of god, please kill me. Your child has only a while to live, do you still enroll them in school? That would be up to them. Also, define "a while." How would you feel if you met your idol and they ended up being rude? WELP I have a tattoo in his honor so that would suck ass lmao According to the tale, was Eve wrong for eating and sharing the apple? "God was wrong for even setting up an apple tree and making up rules in the first place." <<<< There ya go. And the punishment was fucking ludicrously extreme. Are you working on any goals? Yes. I'm currently going to the gym regularly to try and better my physical health and then find a job. I know that being connected sounds odd, but trust me: I can barely carry out very simple tasks just because I have absolutely ZERO stamina to do almost anything. I need energy and endurance. I'm also working towards developing some self-love. Which parent named you? I wanna say my mom. Are you currently frustrated with someone? I mean, myself. Aforementioned self-love is hard. I'm just annoyed my head is so reluctant to accept that I'm not a piece of shit for a million reasons. Why have most of your past relationships ended? They all ended for different reasons, really. Are you having any online conversations, currently? I'm not. What’s on your mind? I'm just tired and going back to bed real soon. Have you ever had an argument with a teacher? No.

[savethelastdan]

Any more of that sweet sweet Good Morning Call content?

Jane on Ao3 requested "When nao and uehara break up she decides to be with daichi”: 

Like most things that have happened since high school, Nao did not plan the aftermath of breaking up with Uehara.

Her intentions were obvious. Either she'd become Uehara's ideal girl (no, woman), mature and self-confident and totally fine with centering her entire existence around Uehara's often unspoken feelings, which she would also magically be able to understand without any communication necessary; or he would realize how much he loved having her there to make him lunch and beg him to tutor her in math and awkwardly kiss goodnight in the space between their apartments.

Instead, what happens is that twenty times a day, Nao checks their messages in her phone, and there's nothing new waiting for her. When she waits outside his apartment in her patented disguise, he doesn't even look in her direction when he passes by.

It hurts even worse, because Nao knows Uehara doesn't even want Saeko. It means he'd have no one, rather than have her.

One night, she's walking home in the rain and going through all the ways that she's ruined it — why couldn't you just put up with it, why did you have to be selfish, why haven't you gone to beg on your hands and knees for his forgiveness — when a hand grabs her shoulder.

"Yoshikawa Nao, what are you doing out here? You'll catch a cold."

She turns, blinking away raindrops (not tears, she's definitely not crying, nope) that have gathered on her eyelashes. Daichi looks down at her, and even though he's wearing a hooded team sweatshirt instead of a jacket and she's carrying an armful of textbooks instead of a collapsing cake, it feels just like the time before.

She throws herself into Daichi's arms, sobbing. And, just like before, he wastes no time in holding her tight.

—

"How are things with Nanase?" She asks, snuggling deeper into the blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

From where he's hanging Nao's textbooks over his drying rack, Daichi gives her a smile (the one he wears just for you, Mitsuishi mutters under his breath and Nao pretends she didn't hear).

"Awkward, honestly. We're trying to stay friends, but that's hard to do when you already know the other person's feelings."

Nao bites her lip, remembering against her will the days after she'd realized Daichi saw her as a woman. The shift had been startling; she'd panicked, pulled away from him, only accepting his comfort when Uehara let her down.  

And now she was reliving the same experience with Natsume; except this time, things with Uehara were even more of a mess.

"I'm sorry, Dai-chan."

"It's alright." He smiles again, and despite her guilt it does its job—making Nao feel warm and safe, like being with Daichi always has. From the days he would help her write her letters to Santa, to pushing her on the swings, to teaching her to put her face in the water during swim class even though she was scared, Daichi has always made her feel safe.  

"Nao." He comes over to sit beside her. For the first time, Nao registers the cup of tea on the table in front of her, when he gently pushes it closer. "I'm sorry for not reaching out to you more last year."

"Ah! Please don't apologize!" She laughs, despite the growing ache in her head. Perhaps he was right, and she's getting ill. "You must have been so busy, right after graduation…And we hang out all the time now, so it's okay!"

Daichi nods slowly, waiting for her to take a sip, before drinking out of a matching mug. After a moment, he speaks again. "I think I needed that time for myself, to be honest. When I confessed to you, I thought that things would remain the same, no matter what your answer was. That I could be by your side in the same way that I'd always been. But it was strange, wasn't it?" His tone holds no bitterness. "When I went to university, it was a good time to find out who Shinozaki Daichi was, just on his own. Without centering it all on what he meant to someone else."

Tea warming her tongue, Nao nods slowly in understanding.

"Because of that year, it was possible for me to be the best friend that I could to you, when we saw each other again. Maybe you need that time, to be that person for Uehara."

Nao glances at his face, out of the corner of her eye. He's not smiling when he says it, making it obvious what he's thinking. Daichi's never liked Uehara, beyond just the typical jealousy; and now, almost two years on with nothing to show for it, all of the defenses that Nao has spent her time crafting feel painfully hollow.

But she knows he's trying to encourage her happiness. She knows she wants to be brave.

Clinking their mugs together, she says with as much cheerfulness as she can muster in this moment, "You are so wise, Dai-chan."

He laughs and ruffles her hair, and Nao tells herself the warm feeling in her stomach is just tea and nothing else.

—

One thing Nao's realized about her relationship with Uehara is just how much time she has on her hands, now that things are over between them.

She gets a new job at a coffee shop to avoid Natsume (and his constant questions about whether Uehara has texted her yet), but it barely helps to fill the hours she has left. With what seems like endless empty weekends yawning before her, she pencils in each of Daichi's games on her calendar. Nao might not understand sports too much, but she has a competitive spirit and can cheer with the best of them.

Even though it's a little uncomfortable to have Nanase sulking a few rows down, she has a good time; the games are fast-paced and exciting. Daichi practically beams when he notices her there, even after it becomes routine.

It feels good, to be looked at like that.

Nao starts to bring him treats from work, as rewards for all of his hard work. They're walking back to the parking lot, Daichi halfway through a box of chocolate covered madeleines, when she realizes that she has an exam on Monday and starts panicking.

Daichi smiles that smile again. "Want some help studying? I took it last semester, it was a cinch."

She smiles (Your knight in shining armor, Marina teases, and Nao shushes her loudly) and ignores the pounding of her heart.

—

"Am I a bad person?" Nao says, before shaking the magic eight ball aggressively. From the couch behind her where she's painting her nails, Ota looks up with a frown.

"Nao, don't think that! You're a great friend."

Nao ignores her, not wanting to explain that the question was originally a lot more detailed in her head (am I a bad person for inviting Dai-chan's team to dinner and taking the chair next to his, and even though I felt bad when I saw Nanase's face I still didn't move?).

My sources say no.

Taking a deep breath, she shakes the toy vigorously. "Will I pass finals?" (Will I pass finals even though while I was studying with Daichi all I could think about was the way he chews on the end of the pencil, and how he's always done that but I never seemed to notice before, and that just made me wonder what else I haven't noticed?)

Most likely.

"That's good, Nao!" Ota cheers, leaning over to see the result. Nao smiles weakly and mumbles, "One more turn…was dating Uehara a mistake?"

Ota goes quiet. Nao doesn't want to turn to look at her face, instead flipping the magic eight ball over. (Was dating Uehara a mistake, because it means I wasted years on someone who wanted me to read their mind, instead of finding someone who was brave enough to tell me what was in their heart? Or was it good because at least I know I tried, so no one can ever say that's why it didn't work between us?)

Better not tell you now.

—

Nao ducks behind the pillar, breathing hard. She pulls the hat on either side of her head down harder, resisting the urge to scream.

Uehara (who won't look at her, talk to her, text her) repeats himself, fist tight against Daichi's collar. "I said, are you dating Yoshikawa?"

Daichi (who walks her home after work, held her when she cried over failing her math exam, took her to a greenhouse and bought her an adorable little cactus just last weekend) stands firm, back against a pillar that's twenty feet away from the one Nao's using to hide. "We're friends, not that it's any of your business."

Uehara says something else, but Nao can't hear him; her heart's pounding so hard, it's painful.

Every muscle in her body is screaming to go over there—but to do what? Push Uehara away? Scream at him for daring to accost the men in her life for being there when he wouldn't? Defend Daichi, who Uehara's always looked at with such disdain, as though Daichi hasn't spent the better part of his life making sure Nao was happy?

Friends. Friends.

It feels wrong to hear Daichi say that, and Nao's rooted to the spot in terror of what that has to mean.

—

"What?"

Scrambling back from the couch, Daichi laughs. It's the laugh he always uses to hide his nerves (that time he broke the potted plant when we were seven and his mom asked what happened, when he gave me a Valentine card for the first time, when he had to give a speech in his history class and he couldn't remember his opening line).

Nao stares back, unfazed. "I said that I like you, Dai-chan."

He stammers, face turning pink. "You're—you don't mean that."

"Yes I do." She recites it, everything she planned in her bathroom mirror last night as she went through the rebuttals he might give. "It's not because I'm lonely without Uehara, or because I'm scared of being alone, or because I like hanging out with you and I've confused that with being in love."

Daichi's hands fold and unfold. He's looking at her like he always does (like Nao's the moon and he dreads the moment when she'll disappear to let morning take her place) and when he speaks, it's not at all what she expected him to say. 

“Did you know Uehara's the only person I've ever hit in anger?"

She blinks once, twice. "Huh?"

He chuckles in embarrassment, one hand sliding against the back of his neck. "I just couldn't stand—knowing that you loved him so much, that you were so brave for him, and he wouldn't be that for you—"

Nao's heart shudders. There's probably something wrong, that even her love confession has been usurped by her ex, but this feels like the kind of thing that he needs to say.

So she waits.

"I thought that if he could just—if he would love you, the way that I would have loved you, then I could deal with it," Daichi blurts; his hand tears through his hair to turn it into a mess. "I could be your friend and be there for you and be happy for you. But Nao, seeing you unhappy and heartbroken and trying so hard, it absolutely breaks me."

Tears fill her eyes. Daichi moves forward on reflex, moving to wipe them away with his thumbs as he cups her face.

"Nao," he breathes. "You deserve the world. You deserve so much."

I don't want the world, she thinks, curling both hands in his sweater. I don't need romantic platitudes or promises of forever or the dream boyfriend. I want to feel safe. "Dai-chan. You said that I needed space. That might change things, and it did. But not for me and Uehara. Dai-chan, please, I love—"

He presses her close.

Nao's lips meet his. And it's not the first time they've ever kissed, but it’s the first time that she feels it's right.

[ponderingsofpatterson]

Search Engines Galore!

This is my last week of the technology class for the summer semester and I was excited to see that this unit was over search engines. I was not aware that there’s more out there than just Google! Skimming the safe list for students, I did recognize a few that my districts use. I may look at them, but I do want to add onto the list.

My Personal Search Engines for my master’s Course Research

The first link, 100 Search Engines for Academic Research (https://www.teachthought.com/learning/100-search-engines-for-academic-research/), was a great start. I like how the website sorts the search engines by categories, not just subject. You have a general, meta search, Databases and Archives, books and journals, science, math and technology, social studies, history, business and economics, Other Niches, and References. This will be one my list to keep for the future.

The second link was the 6 Best Search Engines for Academic Research (https://www.lowcountrygradcenter.org/the-6-best-search-engines-for-academic-research/). The website/article gives you six links and gives a few sentences to what makes the search engine great. For example, they say iSeek Education only “shows only reliable and relevant results that ultimately save your time and enable you to get your work done quickly.” The only think I have about some likes that say “best” is they are opinion articles. They may think they are the best of the best and give their reasons, but it may not be the best for me. So, moving forward, I will filter out the links that used the word “best.”

The third website Microsoft Academic. My eyes immediately went to the right where they are numbers displayed. Three numbers that stood out to me were 239,481,433 Publications, 740,604 topics, and 48,948 journals. That is a lot of reading! I love reading so this is a source I will mostly likely go to first if not Google Scholar.

Child-Friendly Search Engines

Skimming the list a few are familiar because they are used within my district: Epic!, PebbleGo, and Brain Pop Jr. Since I know some about these three, I will look at a few search engines I am not familiar with and go from there.

The first student friendly site I investigated was Newsela. I went to this because my freshman and sophomore English class from student teaching used this program to help with comprehension. I love the website and what they have to offer, but they say it is best for giving assessments to students in grades 2–12. My students are aged 3-5 so this would not be appropriate for my classroom.

Most of the sites on the list were not appropriate for my classroom being that they are 3 and 4-year-old students. The last link, ixl, looked promising. They have a pre-K section which was a first in my search for a new website. I like how pre-k has over 91 skills and kinder has 234 skills. In just math! I haven’t even looked at the other subjects yet. This will be a website I investigate with more focus to detail. I like how they use TEKS not common core standards. Unless more research is needed, you can’t do much for free as this is a paid website. This will be something I think and consider about using this new school year.

 Useful Teacher Sites

 I love the Pics4Learning! This website would be perfect to help build vocabulary for my littles or might help me in creating a communication board for who are nonverbal. 

There are so many out there than listed above! 

[mr-entj]

Hello, Mr. ENTJ. Have you ever been depressed? How did you manage to come out of the rut and find the will to live on? I realize that this is a personal question, and you don't really have to answer but it'd help in understanding different paradigms and help someone who else who is struggling. Thank You

Combined with the following asks:

I’m confident, but insecure at the same time. I have a history of abuse and I know that this insecurity does not belong to my personality. It is a issue of my childhood that from time to time I repeat again. Depression has deprived me of continuing my development and now I feel that I am a younger person trapped in an adult’s body. I was wondering if you’d know how to help me? - (intj female)

Hey! How are you? Btw it’s always a pleasure to see you active again as you have such a cool blog :) Send your doggo my love :) Just wanted to ask - how do you cope with depression and anxiety? I have a lot of bad mental health spells that I can’t seem to deal with, but I’m wondering if it’s a type issue as I’m an ISFP… Like what do you do when you’re in a rut and feel bad about everything? Thanks 🙏

I feel so stuck, I’m almost 30 and I don’t have anything going on in my life. I got back to school but I have no direction, I feel lost, and I feel like I’ll never make it, like I’ll never become the successful woman that I wanted someday to be. I cannot focus, I cannot think, I feel in a rut. 

Lately, everything in my life is going wrong. It's all snowballing, and it's making me exhausted everyday and mentally and physically fatigued. What so you do to get back up on your feet when you barely have the strength to open your eyes?

Of course I’ve been depressed. Depression isn’t an MBTI issue, it’s a mental health one, and it’s something most people go through at some point in their lives so none of you are alone in this. On failure and rejection, I’ve written about my experiences here. On depression specifically, I didn’t suffer from a chemical imbalance so my triggers were very specific and identifiable (but personal and unique to me). I solved it by addressing the root cause of the issues head on.

First, usual Tumblr disclaimer of: I’m not a mental health professional, obviously go seek professional help if you have the means to, etc. etc. You all already know the deal. Moving on.

What worked for me:

1. Do damage control. For example, if the root cause of my depression was low grades in math then I’d finish the semester and pause taking math classes until I figured out how to do well in them. Even if I didn’t have a solution at that very moment, I could at least stop the bleeding and avoid a bigger GPA drop. This helped me feel slightly better because even if things were bad, they weren’t as bad as they could be. Bad is better than worse.

2. Suffer. I mean exactly what I just said– I suffered– I let the hurt in. The reason I did this is because I’m a stubborn person with the tendency to “power through” obstacles even if I was unwell. I forced myself to have an internal come-to-Jesus moment so that I could acknowledge:

I was unwell and I wasn’t in peak form which was affecting all areas of my life

My current condition hurt, it sucked, and it’s something I didn’t want to stay in  

The more I acknowledged it hurt, the more I was motivated to find a solution. We all can’t be Mother Teresa, sometimes getting fed up with bad shit and getting pissed off is the spark that triggers transformative changes. I ran with that. Wood, coal, electricity, or gas– the fuel of choice doesn’t matter– as long as it propels the vehicle.

3. Reconnect with my support system. Isolation is killer because it leaves you alone in a room with negative thoughts and a compromised mind completely unchecked which is the equivalent of locking yourself in a room with a pack of crocodiles and expecting not to get torn to pieces. I’m a naturally independent person so for me to reach out to friends and family with a, “I’m not feeling well. Can we spend time together?” was a huge signal that I needed help. I spread my time with many different people so that I didn’t feel like I was annoying one specific person with all my crap. This helped do a few things:

It distracted me from negative thoughts and provided temporary relief which gave me a chance to recharge my batteries and regain strength

It gave me a sounding board for my thoughts and feelings which helped uncover previous blind spots and encouraged brainstorming of solutions

It reminded me what “normal” looked like, it showed me what a normal functioning person looked, talked, and acted which gave me a baseline goal to shoot for

4. Gain perspective. I gained insight, inspiration, and motivation from reading about and talking to people who had overcome immense challenges. Their lives and their struggles could be completely different from mine but just to hear that someone somewhere went through a horrible thing and made it through gave me something more important than data– it gave me hope. I read about the Louis Zamperinis and Malala Yousafzais of the world which helped me find my fight.

5. Build confidence and happiness through small victories. The problem with depression is that it drops you in this huge mental ditch and places the exit at the top of a mountain far from reach. It kills confidence, it demoralizes, and it creates despair that you’ll never get out of it. Don’t aim for the top of the mountain in a weakened state; start small, start slow, but start.

For me, that meant doing small and “basic” things that were a struggle when I was depressed, I was able to derive a sense of accomplishment from doing something that I hadn’t done the day before. It was anything from sticking to a basic grooming routine to eating 3 meals per day to beating a dungeon in a video game to writing a new chapter in one of my stories. The point was that if I could do a small thing, I could do a bigger thing, and then a bigger thing, and eventually tackle the biggest thing. Remember that if you can’t run, you can walk. If you can’t walk, then you can crawl. But keep moving forward.

6. Attack the root cause. This is the final boss fight in the game of depression. It’s where you stare down the thing that’s been haunting you all this time, hit it where it hurts, and knock it out. For example, if being overweight is a source of depression, then attack the root cause and make some dietary changes. Eat one less cut of meat per day, trim portions by a quarter, drink one less bottle of soda, etc. Set small goals to win small victories. Losing one pound will become losing two pounds and two pounds will become three pounds and so on and so forth.

Remember that it’s not instant, it can and it usually does take time to fix. If it were easy, it’d be fixed a long time ago. It’s a process, it’s a long-term commitment, but it’s doable. Learn some patience and derive joy from the small wins. The goal is to build momentum to put distance between you and your depression until you eventually achieve escape velocity and emerge victorious.

[jackbeiste]

stumblin’ in [jack + sebastian]

characters: jack beiste and sebastian smythe (@sebastiansmythejoie)

date: october 15

note: jack wants to study, and sebastian feels surprisingly okay with it

warnings: minor explicit mentions

jack

He did feel a bit insecure about his sex life... perhaps not really the active sex life itself, but rather the way he quite enjoyed submitting to men... that he didn't actually know that well at all. It wasn't like he hadn't had his kinks during his solo sessions, but... he was truly getting an appetite for it. But the asks the other night made him hesitate. He felt embarrassed at the idea that people knew what he was doing. Whenever he had thought about sex before either Valerian or Sebastian, the realistic fantasies had always been... more making love. Now? He wasn't sure what the fuck was going on. Instead of cancelling on Sebastian, he decided that they were perfectly capable of doing something else - even if his idea of going to the library together was easily abandoned. Still, he actually felt quite relaxed as he knocked on Sebastian's door; strangely excited in a way to do something that didn't include getting their clothes off for once.

sebastian

Sebastian was looking forward to seeing Jack again, he was almost surprised the boy hadn't cancelled after yesterdays ordeal with the invasive internet people who seemed so interested in Jack's sex life. The younger man didn't exactly seem happy about how much was being shared but Seb wasn't ashamed and clearly neither was Val. He was just happy Jack hadn't been put off enough that he didn't want to see Bas again. Sebastian laughed at his phone seeing the text about studying and shook his head. Sure studying. Bas poured himself a drink as he closed his books for the night, not actually expecting to look at them again. He needed a drink though, things had been tough with Kat and Val recently and now that fencing competition season was close he was back to consuming nothing more elicit than a stiff drink. "Hello handsome" Bas smiled, opening the door for Jack, he chuckled seeing the books in Jacks arms.

jack

"Hey," he said softly, stepping inside. He had to admit, it felt a bit weird. It was the first time he'd meet up with Sebastian without... well, without sex being involved. He hoped the brunette would be okay with that. "I brau.... brought snacks to.. too." He walked over to place his books on Sebastian's table, shrugging his bag off to start piling up all his study snacks next to the books.

sebastian

Sebastian watched Jack with interest, again noticing the speech impediment but choosing to not mention it. Too many times in the past he had ended up in horrible situations because of things people couldn't change about themselves and Jack seemed like an honest good person and Seb didn't want to destroy that. Having someone honest and good around was what he needed right now, even if he would never admit it. "You know the only thing you needed to bring was yourself." He chuckled, but decided to go along with this plan to study, at least for a while. Seb sat down at the place at the table opposite Jack and flipped open the book on the top of his pile, taking a drink from the glass he had just poured.

jack

Jack rolled his eyes at the comment, though unable to stop a smirk. Even if it did fluster him a lot, he liked how Sebastian had no issue commenting on that kind of stuff. The words stayed with him all day, giving him a confidence he hadn't thought possible. He shrugged his bag off, candy and baked goods welling out like he'd packed for a month away in the woods. "Did your midtem.. midterms go ok, okay?" He asked softly, opening one of his books before looking for the right notebook on his bag filled with snacks and a few other things, like a notebook or two.

sebastian

Seb chuckled, his ability to make men smirk silly was one of his greatest sources of pride. "Mid-terms were as expected, A's across the board so keeping up my 3.9 GPA." He responded, with a look that said, 'I'm a genius and I know it'. "How were yours, Mr Pirates of the Caribbean?" Seb rolled his eyes in a playful mocking way, remembering Jack talking about his Pirates and the Carribean class earlier in the semester. A child-like mischievous look appeared on his face at the sight of baked goods. "Are you a baker?" He asked curiously, eyeing the treats.

jack

Jack nodded, not entirely surprised. He studied Law, after all... or he thought so anyway. He felt too shy to ask for clarification at this point. "I... okay, I thunk. Think," He said with a slight shrug. He'd been freaking out about midterms, especially as it was his very first time, even if he'd never been too concerned with grades (to be fair, he'd only gotten grades below A or B a few times, and it had mostly been math). "Sometimes... only at Val's. These are bau... bought."

sebastian

Seb tipped his head thoughtfully. "Did you not get your grades back yet? The deadline was supposed to be the 14th, that's why we had that weird camping social event so the profs could have a day full of grading." Seb rolled his eyes, teachers sure could be useless sometimes. "only at Val's" He stiffened in his seat. A flicker of something different crossed Bastian's face at the comment about Val. A lot of things in Sebastians life seemed to be hanging on that man. Seb was usually so relaxed around Jack but now he forced himself to stare at the text book in front of him reading the same sentence over and over. "How about you make me something sweet instead." Seb retorted, pushing down the feeling something was stuck in his throat.

jack

"I did... mostly As and Bs," He replied, not as used to bragging and boasting as Sebastian seemed to be. The only reason he got good grades was because he was also passionate about the subjects in his courses after all. He glanced over at the other man with a confused look, not entirely sure why his entire demeanor had suddenly changed. Was it somethint he had said? "Now?"

sebastian

Seb was slightly confused that Jack did in-fact know his grades but hadn't offered the information until Seb asked, especially when he had done well. He shrugged it off, taking another drink and grabbing a snack from the pile Jack had created on his dining table. "Sure, why not, unless you only bake for your special friend." He teased, letting humour cover his thoughts.(edited)

jack

"He's not...," Jack murmured, feeling his cheeks heat up. He knew Valerian and Sebastian had talked about him, and it made him a little nervous. "We're so.. supposed to studi.. study," He countered, looking over at the older man with a raised eyebrow. At least it wasn't sex he was suggesting, Jack reasoned with himself. Then again, baking had been the thing that somehow turned into sex at Valerian's. "Can you kv.. quiz me instead?"

sebastian

"That blush suits you handsome." Sebastian chuckled, it was easy to disarm Jack and he liked that. "Fine let's study." He rolled his eyes playfully, sticking his tongue out at Jack. Bas would never admit to any kind of jealousy and would do everything in his power to cover it and his playful expression was aiming to do just that. "Do you have flash cards or something or do you want me to surprise you?" He responded, reaching for Jack's text book, pushing his own aside.

jack

He flashed a grin at the way Sebastian stuck his tongue out, relaxing as the other man seemed to be okay after all. "Uh, there's some ques...tions at the end," he explained, gesturing for the other to turn the page. He liked the book because the quiz part was always easy but good, with concrete questions like, "where is Havana?" or "What did the Spanish mainly trade with in the Caribbean?"

sebastian

Sebastian flipped though the book, skimming some of the information; he was curious by nature and this was a completely new subject to him, learning new things was one of his pleasures in life. Finally he stopped at the page labelled quiz. "Okay here's a interesting one! What relation did Mary Read have to Mark Read?"

jack

A smile formed on his lips as Sebastian actually seemed to be looking for the chapter's study questions; it felt strange, but good, to be doing this. It wasn't all fucking with them, but it sure wasn't this. Sex was always the focus of their meetings. "All right, um...," He ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. "Mark Read was Mary Reed, Read's alter-ego. She began dressing as a boy when she was young, and it eventually took her to the, ah, West Indies where she worked as a pirate under Jack Rackham."

sebastian

Sebastian cocked his head with a smile Jack was clearly in his element with this, and he was enjoying seeing passion in Jack that wasn't just for their sexual endeavours. "Way more information than they asked for but Mary Read sounds like a girl who knows what she wants, kudos." Seb looked back down at the book, but his eyes kept flicking back up to Jack's face. "Okay next question, What did the Spanish mainly trade with in the Caribbean?"

jack

"Yeah, but you know they'll want that part too on the eks.., exam," He shrugged, blushing slightly as he knew it was more his interest in the subject than in getting the best grade possible. "Uh, sugar and slaves."

sebastian

"Is it essay questions or quick answers for the exam?" Seb asked curiously, it was unlike him to openly take an interest in another person but Jack was interesting in him and that didn't happen often beyond being interested for sex. "So tell me what does a Pirates and the Carribean class get you after college?"

jack

"Both. At leash.. least on the midterms," Jack said, a bit thoughtfully. He quite liked it that way, even if he sometimes felt they used the wrong format for the wrong topics. Especially his class about witchcraft in american history. The professor loved to force them to go into details about mundane things, while the really interesting stuff only demanded quick answers; sometimes they were even just a simple three choice question. But he felt a bit uncertain wether that would interest Sebastian; he'd never been this interested in something that didn't clearly result in sex before. "Uh," he reached up to rub his temple, a small smile on his lips; both at the clear interest, and the fact taht he had no idea what he wanted to do. "It's not just pirates."

sebastian

Sebastian watched Jack carefully answering his questions about his classes, paying the younger man his full attention. He was getting more curious about Jack's speech; it seemed like he had more to say but was holding back, maybe because of his impairment, Seb wanted to ask but he knew this could go the wrong way and he didn't want to end up in any situation like he had done in the past. "What else are you studying?" He asked, gently pushing Jack to elaborate, he took a long drink from his glass, keeping his eyes on the other.

jack

He'd be lying if he didn't feel a bit surprised as well as relieved at how both Sebastian and Valerian seemed to just take his speech for what it was. It had felt more terrifying than he had expected to suddenly be in a new environment with none of his best friends around. Gabriel was there, sure, but it was different. His best friends from back home all had speech issues. But as relaxed as he felt, he still couldn't quite bring himself to talk freely. He kept the blabbering online. It made him feel safe, but he also felt limited. There was so much he wanted to say. But he supposed he also had a feeling Sebastian wasn't that interested. Perhaps the interest was simply because he didn't talk much. He doubted the older man would look as interested in what he was saying if he actually did say all he wanted to. "Uh, the wild west in popular culture. Wy.. Witches in America. All history stuff."

sebastian

"So you either want to teach kindergartener's history or you want to write period novels," Seb chucked, "Those are some wild class choices. The Ancient Egyptians and Romans will be so disappointed you're going all alternative." He rolled his eyes playfully. He was surprised how utterly interesting he found Jack and wanted the other to keep talking but he knew that wasn't necessarily a wish that could be fulfilled but as long as he kept talking Seb felt he could eventually get himself in under Jack's skin.

jack

He blushed at that, not as much at the former as the latter - Sebastian wasn't wrong about that part. "I prefer Perc.. Persia," he shrugged, covering up his trademark blush with a grin. He really did love Ancient Persia. "What do you study? You never told me." To be fair, Sebastian had told him extremely little about himself.

sebastian

"Aha good old Persia, always down for a fight, but what's got you so interested?" Seb laughed, History was something he was mildly interested in but really he just wanted to know more about Jack. Seb was fine bragging about his accomplishments but terrible at sharing personal things. "I'm in the Law program. Got to have some people with their head on straight ensuring the laws in this damn country are enforced." He shrugged, yeah he really was bad at talking about himself in a way that held any substance.

jack

"I...," Jack hesitated, not sure wether to go with the honest truth or just the truth. "I liked how it sounded in my head. I couldn't... get it right, but...," he shrugged, his speech choppier than usual as he told Sebastian something so personal. Maybe it wouldn't come off as personal, but sounds had always been personal to him. "Oh?" He smiled crookedly at that, amused at the phrasing. It seemed... very Sebastian. And he liked that.

sebastian

Seb cocked his head thoughtfully; it was like seeing into Jack's soul knowing sounds were so important to him even though he struggled so much with them. A shiver went through Seb as Jack told him something that was clearly so personal; he wasn't the kind of person others usually chose to confide in. "That part of Southwestern Asia is supposed to be beautiful so if you like the name of their historic empires maybe the place will be just as fascinating." Seb mused, it was nothing to him to think of taking a trip just because he had an interest in something, plus he had a niggling part of his mind wanting to whisk Jack away. "How else do you think they will know who needs to be punished." Seb winked, not ready to tell Jack his deeper feeling on his future in law.

jack

Jack nodded, reaching up to rub at his temple a bit nervously; something he often did when he felt vunerable or insecure. He hadn't expected to confide in Sebastian, it had just come out. He hoped the older man would be okay with it, even if he was clearly not the kind of person who liked to get personal. "I hope to c... see it one day," he said softly. He had travelled quite a bit with his father across America, but he'd never been abroad. Sometimes he wasn't sure he wanted to - afraid that reality would be a disappointment compared to the worlds he'd created in his mind. He chuckled at that, but felt a bit strange at how this made his heart buzz. He knew better than to see Sebastian like that. "You don't want to do the punishing?" He asked innocently, raising an eyebrow, as he took extra care to spell out the last word correctly.

sebastian

"Maybe if you're good I'll take you" Seb winked, teasing to lighten the mood. He was enjoying seeing inside Jack but serious conversations were not something he felt comfortable with often and Jack was new in his life, though admittedly he had seen more of Jack recently than some of his fuckboys across the lifetime of their 'relationships'. "Oh punishment I can do," Seb grinned at the so called innocent look on Jack's face. "Do you want me to show you how well I can punish?" He whispered seductively, leaning over so his lips were almost touching Jack's ear as he spoke.

jack

Jack swallowed hard at the question, almost dropping the pen he'd kept in his hand. The words, especially the way they were said, went straight to his crotch; he could feel his cock stir in his jeans. "I... yeah," he managed to get out before he could really stop himself, wanting nothing more than to be punished by Sebastian right now.

sebastian

Sex hadn't been the plan today, well in Sebastian's mind it had been but they had made plans to study but here they were once again about to spiral out of control. Seb seemed even more unable to keep things PG around Jack than everyone else in his life and that was saying something considering how often things turned sexual with Sebastian.

* * * * * * * *

jack

Jack collapsed onto the bed, body still shaking as he couldn't quite let go of the bed frame. He could tell he was going to be sore tomorrow, but right now he just felt bliss, almost sleepy bliss. He reached up just enough to be able to pull Sebastian on to the bed next to him, giving him a soft, almost thankful, kiss.

sebastian

Sebastian was panting hard but had a satisfied smile on his face and the post sex haze was settling over him. In the haze he allowed Jack to pull him in close and kiss him in what felt like a very sweet way; much sweeter than the kind of kiss Seb was used to and it made him shiver; goosebumps raising on his naked body. Bas kissed Jack back almost nervously; it was without his usual hunger, instead it was slow and soft, his eyes fluttering shut and simply feeling.

jack

He finally let go of the bed frame, his hand cupping Sebastian's cheek as he continued to kiss him; still soft, almost loving. He loved the taste of Sebastian; both bitter and sweet in a way he could never quite explain. And he loved the feeling of the other's naked body against his own, even when they were both as sweaty as now. He couldn't quite explain why, maybe it was because it was so rare - Sebastian was usually rather quick to get his pants on again, sometimes out the door before Jack had truly recovered. This was... different. His thumb stroked Sebastian's cheek, smiling into the kiss.

sebastian

Seb melted into the bed, letting himself be physically close to Jack. Post sex was raw and Seb had trained himself to escape that moment as soon as possible; he could never risk letting someone fall though the cracks in that moment when emotions were running wild. Right now though Sebastian's mind and body felt clouded in a way he wasn't used to and he couldn't bring himself to run from Jack. Even the thought of staying hot and sticky was usually enough to get him moving but right now he didn't care; the feel of Jacks hot messy body against him was almost soothing. Bas parted gently from the kiss and threaded his hands gently through Jack's hair; not rough as his did during sex but rather just enough to keep the younger man close so his sweet breath was hot on Seb's face.

jack

Jack sighed softly, a little sad the other man pulled away from the kiss but comforted by the way he ran his fingers through his hair. He leaned into his touch, his thumb still gently stroking Sebastian's cheek. He trailed one hand down to roll the condom off of the brunette, smirking at the fact that the other for once hadn't gotten around to that part yet. He removed his other hand from Sebastian's face to tie a knot on the condom, placing it as far away on the bed as possible; he'd throw it away later. Right now he just wanted to relish in the feeling of their warm, naked bodies against each other; Sebastian's soft skin sending shivers through him.

sebastian

Sebastian felt a thrill try and awaken his cock as Jack reached down to touch him but his body quickly relaxed again one the other had pulled off the condom. He was feeling quite self conscious that he was clearly too distracted to even remember that. Awkwardness was begining to creep up on Sebastian, he'd never spent this long laying with someone after sex, and he wasn't a person well versed in comfortable silences. He tried to think of something to say but he was distracted by the thumb caressing his cheek. Bas had never in all his long and torrid sexual history had someone caress him like this and suddenly he was feeling so overwhelmed when years of hidden emotions, crushed down under layers of cruelty and sarcasm, tried to escape.

jack

"I wish I didn't have to go," He murmured, his fingers running through the hair on the back of Sebastian's head; his eyes closed as he nuzzled into the pillow. He had no doubt this meant the study session had ended. Even if he wasn't expecting actual cuddling, it would be nice to just... lay there. If he wanted another turn, it was always rushed; often still too sensitive and exhausted from round one. And he would be lying if it didn't make him feel cheap sometimes,   almost expecting the older man to throw some coins at him as he rushed off. Maybe that wasn't fair - he knew what Sebastian was about, and yet he continued to see him. But it didn't make the feeling go away, or the feeling of constantly wanting just a little bit more of Sebastian for each time.

sebastian

"Shame we have people to do, things to see." Sebastian chuckled, spinning the common phrase on it's head as he often did. Laying here in the quiet with Jack the world seemed to slow and for a moment that was calming, nice even, but the world was starting to spin again and everything was catching up with him. He couldn't lay here forever because it just might start to crack the foundations of the walls he had built and he couldn't risk letting them fall; he couldn't risk getting hurt. "Speaking of things to do I have a Fencing preseason practice to get to shortly."

jack

Jack smiled small at that, though a little sadly as he knew time was up. He felt guilty about being such a bad fuck buddy, he knew what he had gotten himself into and yet, he couldn't help but expect more. It wasn't fair. "Yeah... yeah," he murmured, his hands withdrawing from Sebastian, not sure he could bear to continue to touch him now. Suddenly, he also wanted to leave. "I'll....," he gestured out towards the kitchen, almost rushing to grab the clothing items he'd dropped on their way from the kitchen table to the bed.

[jackiforjustice]

hiya everyone! I’m dev ( use any pronouns, mine are up in the air rn ), and this is my social justice baby jacki! please hmu for plotting - I’d love to really develop something with each of you! bio below!

trigger warnings for racism, sexism, and police brutality.

✘ CHARACTER BASICS

Skeleton Title: The Cavalier Faceclaim: Laura Harrier Jacqueline “Jacki” Reynolds | Twenty-Two | Cis-Female | She/Her | May 18th

✘ CHARACTER BACKGROUND

The Gist: 

Jacqueline is the oldest daughter of Susan and Barry Reynolds. Born in 1969, just two years after the Supreme Court Case Loving v. Virginia legalized interracial marriage across the United States, Jacqueline was one of the first interracial children in her small Idaho hometown. 

A couple years and two younger brothers later, the Reynolds family decided to move to Graingerville to be closer to a big city. It was clear from a very young age that Jacqueline was smarter than her years - she exceeded in school from day one, and always preferred reading to the rowdy games at recess. 

Although she was incredibly intelligent for her age, Jacki always had trouble fitting in. The other black kids thought she wasn’t black enough because of her white mother; the white kids took one look at her rich dark skin and knew she wasn’t one of them. While she managed to find her own group of friends who didn’t care much either way in terms of her race, the underlying discrimination and confusion based on being from a mixed family stuck with her for a long time.

When Jacki entered middle school, her father started telling her stories of his own adolescence - while Jacki worried about math quizzes and essays, Barry was fighting for his rights every single day. He became a lawyer because of it, and after hearing about the Civil Rights Movement directly from him and her other relatives, Jacki decided she wanted to be a lawyer too.

As Jacki got older, her peers began partying more often, rebelling against their parents to make a statement, to be reckless and bold with no apologies. Jacki tried that phase for a minute (but quickly ended when she realized she cared more about what her parents thought of her than her friends from school). Instead of completely locking herself away from the other teenagers in Graingerville, she chose a more proactive route: everyone at her high school knew if they needed a designated driver, Jacki would be there to lend a helping hand. 

By the end of her sophomore year in high school, Jacki had a perfectly laid-out plan of how to get into either Harvard, Yale, or Stanford majoring in Political Science. Her parents were undoubtedly impressed, and worked to help her achieve her big dreams of getting into top notch schools. 

Needless to say, her plan worked. After graduating as valedictorian from her high school, Jacki was off to Yale majoring in Political Science with a minor in American History. Yale pushed Jacki to her absolute limits in the best way - she worked harder than ever, made lifelong friends, and even had her first boyfriend (his name was Liam, and they dated for one semester before she dumped him during finals week because he was distracting her). 

Although Jacki entered college with the hopes of becoming a lawyer, the more she learned about the Civil Rights Movement and the treatment of black people in American history, the more she wanted to immediately help those in need. She had been eyeing the possibility of Law School for a while, but it wasn’t until she moved back home to Graingerville post-college graduation that she changed her career path slightly.

The Big Freakout Event of 1990 threw her family for a loop. Her younger brothers were just about to start their sophomore and senior years of high school, her mother had just been promoted at the hospital, and her father had just won a huge case against the unjust arrest of two young black men. But when people with psionic powers and lizard deers terrorize the streets out of the blue, the world sort of pauses for a while. 

When the dust had settled from the craziness of the BFE, Jacki found herself wanting to help more directly. Being a lawyer helps those accused of a crime - she wanted to help protect the people of Portland from...whatever the crazy shit out there was. She was still torn between being a lawyer or moving to a different career choice when another event influenced her decision.

In March of 1991, Rodney King was horrendously beaten by police officers in Los Angeles. It was unjust, it was unfair, and it was entirely based on race. The trial for the police officers in question was scheduled for the following year, as these sorts of things take time, but it was that one event (and reading about other racist events prior to the Rodney King beating), that led Jacki to join the Portland Police Department.

She was the top of her class at the Police Academy (she’s always had a penchant for rules and regulations), and with marks like that, she was absolutely sure she’d start making tidal waves once she was officially on the force.

Unfortunately, they had her saving cats from trees, dealing with parking tickets, and lost elderly people roaming the streets. 

The Emerging Threats Unit looks better and better by the day. Jacki’s dreamed of helping people since she was little - why won’t the higher ups let her just do it? She’s starting to get sick of pushing papers around while she could be making the world a better place. Luckily, that Yale degree is coming in handy - she’s doing her best to study up on the supernatural stuff going on around town, and she’s determined to be the expert on all things crazy in this place if it kills her.

Jacqueline Reynolds has no supernatural powers unless you count her unnerving organization skills or her endless knowledge on the historical racism in America thus far (both of which cause her major exhaustion and/or frustration, which I would deem a consequence for her power).

✘ “STAY WEIRD PORTLAND”

One wall of her apartment bedroom looks like a conspiracy theory wall. She’s incredibly organized, yes, but her obsession with being the expert on all things supernatural in Portland has caused her to look a little bit like a nutcase. However, the conspiracy theory wall is prettier than other conspiracy theory walls in TV shows and movies because hers comes with color coordinated strings, index cards, and pens. Sometimes when she’s feeling frisky, she even manages to color coordinate the thumbtacks. 

While Jacki is a picture perfect student, she has no clue what it means to be good at maintaining a romantic relationship. Absolutely no idea what she’s doing. Flirting often goes right over her head. She can give you historical dates and supernatural factoids up the wazoo, but hit her with a one-liner and she just sort of stares...and then walks away.

✘ ASPECTS & SKILLS

Straight A Student: Jacki never earned less than an A- in her entire academic career (a fact that her parents remind her younger brothers of every single day). She excels in history and English, and performs well in math and sciences. Although art has never really been her thing, her ability to give it a try has always earned her at least an A- in class.

Strong, Smart, Underestimated Woman: It’s 1991. She’s a Yale graduate, incredibly intelligent, resilient as hell, and determined to serve justice and protect those around her. She is fierce by any definition of the word, but that doesn’t mean everyone sings her praises. Some men find her strength frightening. Some others find her intelligence to be overbearing, or too “know-it-all” for their liking. She’s underestimated, and often given the dirty work rather than the work she joined the police force for, and she knows it.

I Have to Do What’s Right: Even though Jacki loves rules, regulations, and the like, sometimes the rules are wrong. That’s why she started training with The Fighter. That’s why she’s studying up on supernatural occurrences. And that’s why she’s more than willing to protect people who aren’t in the wrong. I mean come on, it’s not anybody’s fault that some of these people have powers - just because people fear them for being different doesn’t excuse any harm that comes their way, and Jacki has made it her mission to protect people with powers as long as they don’t maliciously hurt others.

Great: Will Good: Notice, Academics Fair:    Investigate, Shoot, Lore Aver:   Athletics, Stealth, Drive, Fight

✘ AESTHETIC

A brand new pack of index cards. Happy family photos on the wall. Clean laundry. The same haircut every time. Highlighted textbooks. Annotated novels. Reading the newspaper thoroughly. Fresh scented candles. Conspiracy theory strings. Too much coffee. Waking up to sunlight peeking through the window. Horrible headaches. Extra poster boards for future rallies and marches. Sleeping alone. Speaking quickly for efficiency’s sake. Gin and tonics. Being overwhelmed by large social situations. Studying without being assigned to. Forgetting to sleep. Forgetting to eat. Forgetting to take a moment to just breathe. Justice. Family dinners on Thursdays. Bending the law for things that are right. Ironed clothes. A color-coded planner. Wearing a retainer every night to bed like you’re supposed to. Bob Dylan CDs. Perfectly polished badges. Quiet breakfasts. Practical clothes.

✘ SEASON 2, EPISODE 1

If anyone else were to see what Jacki’s apartment looked like, they’d think it was just as clean as ever. But by her standards? Her room was a mess. Textbooks on the history of time and space stacked high on her desk; questionably sourced papers on the existence of supernatural creatures in our universe highlighted, annotated, and in their own folders; four mugs of coffee, all of them empty and lined up on top of her dresser. She would get to the bottom of this case. If her boss didn’t want her on anything more important than parking tickets, she’d work the Emergency Threat Unit cases on her own time. Sure, Jacki was losing sleep by the minute, but it would be worth it when crisis inevitably hit Portland again and she was the best resource they had. Plus, now she had a friend to help her improve her combat skills! She’d be prepared for anything, with a twelve-step solution to the next Big Freakout Event to hit her town. Just like her dad always told her: “If you can’t be the boss, be better than them.”

Please feel free to message me for any plots! I have a wimpy ass plotting page here, so feel free to look at that for inspiration!

[joesalemstate]

My Writing Goals & Fears

For as long as I can remember, I've enjoyed to write. When I look back on my education, it might be the only part of the journey that hasn't felt like a complete and utter chore to me. I'm allergic to math class and I couldn't feel any more out of my depth than I do in a science lab. I've always felt differently about writing though. Subjects like math, science, and history are so rooted in fact, that it often leaves little room for any meaningful self-expression. Through the creative writing process, I've always found that I've learned more about myself. A thoughtful prompt can be a real source of reflection for me. There's something therapeutic about organizing my thoughts, analyzing them, and then externalizing them through my writing.

I'm very unfamiliar with the field of public relations, and even more so writing within that context. For that reason, I can't say I have any sort of concrete goal to chase other than to succeed over the course of the semester. I do feel I have many things that I could get better at though. Grammar has historically been a hindrance of mine, so I'm going to look to work on that. I also tend to overthink my introductions and conclusions. Getting the ball rolling and bringing things to a close has always been a tricky proposition for me. If I can improve upon those three things, I will really remove some roadblocks in my writing process.

My biggest fear in any writing class is reading my work out loud or having others read it and critique it themselves. It's an unhealthy insecurity of mine, but writing has always felt oddly personal to me in a way. You can learn a lot about somebody by reading their writing, so sharing it with stranger or loose acquaintance can be hard. Like most things in life, the only way to conquer that fear is by doing more of it. If day one of class is any indication, I have a feeling I'll be getting plenty of practice this semester.