#this is what I get for being an econ major at a school known for being conservative

[castles-in-the-eyre]

may the gods grant me the strength not to throttle my group project members by their thick republican athlete finance bro throats

[vanilla-voyeur]

Kinda annoyed with the assumption that all socialists are just economically illiterate dumdums who would realize the error of their ways if they'd just take an Econ 101 class. Well I have taken introductory econ classes. I've taken multiple econ classes. The university I went to has one of the top 10 economics programs in the US. I originally went into college wanting to be an econ major before I switched to CS. I got to the point of taking one upper division class right before we started getting into the calculus.

The problem with how economics is taught in school is that it takes an approach of capitalist realism that taints their interpretation of everything. Everything that supports the ends of capitalism is assumed to be good. Everything that doesn't maximize efficiency is assumed to be bad. Anyone who advocates for something that has been shown not to maximize efficiency is a big dumdum who doesn't understand economics. There is no question or discussion about whether maximizing efficiency is something we always want in every case.

We got taught that price floors and price ceilings and taxes and regulations cause deadweight loss. Deadweight loss is bad for maximizing efficiency. All those politicians who want rent control and minimum wage and increasing taxes on the 1% are big dumdums who don't understand basic economics. Are there any trade-offs where it's worth it to increase deadweight loss for some other benefit? Not considered.

I do remember getting taught that monopolies are bad. Monopolies also cause deadweight loss. Notably, it is incredibly hard to be a billionaire without being the CEO of a monopoly. Billionaires are causing deadweight loss. Any politician who's against trust busting is an economically illiterate dumdum. If you don't have a problem with billionaires then you hate the basic principles of capitalist competition. (Or alternatively you're an economically illiterate dumdum.)

There are many forms of economic efficiency, but the only one I was taught in school was Pareto efficiency. None of my professors mentioned any other variant. Pareto efficiency was treated as a law of the universe. It's just a theory by some guy. He made some pretty math equations that work under idealized conditions. What if he's wrong? What about all the other models that think he's wrong? What if he's right but he didn't consider things like institutions of oppression? (19th century white Parisian nobility are well known for taking into account how racism, sexism, classism, etc affect society.)

I think the order of classes is suspicious too. First you get simplified microeconomics then simplified macroeconomics then increase the math of each while still being simplified, all before talking about where real life capitalist countries are failing at approaching the idealized model. By that time, the capitalist realism has already set in. We should get to the differences between the graphs and the reality by the third class bare minimum. Perfect competition isn't possible. It's a utopia. Does that actually mean that we should be trying to get closer to it? What sort of trade-offs should we consider when we're departing from perfect competition? We never discussed it.

To the extent of my knowledge, my university never had a class on idealized socialism or communism or any other economic model but focuses entirely on idealized capitalism until upper division classes. The only classes that acknowledge socialism exists compares existing capitalist countries to existing socialist countries. By then, you've already drank the Kool aid of how capitalism could be at its best and it turns out theoretical capitalism is more attractive than existing totalitarian dictatorships. What would a socialist democracy look like? They never bother to ask.

You can't compare and contrast something you don't know anything about. It's all capitalist realism. Anyone who hasn't taken a Socialist Economics 101 class where they draw the simplified graphs and they explain the concepts is an economically illiterate dumdum too.

[leemeanhoes]

enhypen’s college majors (a headcanon)

okay so i know that this is skz blog (feel free to ignore), but recently i’ve gotten into enhypen and their music and can’t stop thinking about what the members would study if they were in university/college lol

lee heeseung: a double major in english and music, possibly a minor in education. i saw somewhere that if heeseung wasn’t an idol, he’d want to be an english teacher so i’m mostly basing it off of that. i think he would be a good teacher since he’s already such a good role model for the younger members :))

park jongseong aka jay: okay so, i think jay would be in business or a business-related major (e.g. finance, commerce, econ). i’m pretty sure he has a lot of exposure to this field since his dad owns a business and so he would probably be interested in either continuing his family business or starting his own. he’s a people person and his mbti type is ENTP and all the business majors i know are generally extraverted lol. but i also think he could be a communications or sociology major or even have those as a minor. when he was explaining how he chose batman as a superhero he could relate to (buzzfeed video, i think?), he was articulate and had a lot of insight. i think he would suit liberal arts since he’s well spoken and probably could write a stunning research paper. 10/10 for jay!

sim jaeyun aka jake: jake is the reason why i started thinking about this topic so much and ultimately ended up writing a post about it. all the fics i’ve read on tumblr about jake or the enhypen boys in a college!au all revolve around him being a physics major! i actually disagree on this. i firmly believe that jake suits an engineering major. it’s widely known that he likes math and physics but i think he would’ve gone for more of an applied approach. i specifically think jake would specialize into the biomedical stream of engineering and go into some sort of healthcare because he seems like the person who would want to help people improve their lives. jake is a sweet and kind boy. that’s it.

park sunghoon: our ice prince! i had a bit of a difficult time deciding what fit sunghoon but i think he would suit kinesiology with a possible chance of a minor in sport education. i based this choice off of his figure skating background and if he wasn’t an idol, i think he could’ve done coaching of some sort because it’s quite common for figure skaters to coach once they retire. it’s well known that he truly loves figure skating so if he weren’t an idol, i think this would be the route his goes down.

kim sunoo: liberal arts boy! i headcanoned his major as either sociology, psychology, communications, polisci, international relations, aaand maybe film studies? a lot of variety shows focus on the fact that sunoo leans towards the liberal arts type subjects so i wanted to honour that. he’s quite bubbly and honestly, i could see him having a fun time reading articles and presenting in group projects. i also get the vibe he could probably write papers quite well lmao.

yang jungwon: i had a hard time deciding for jungwon too. ik he’s technically still in high school right now so i’ll be a little more general. he’s quite smart and is really mature for his age. and did you see how fast he solved those logic puzzles in en-o’clock? i think he could probably go for a STEM based major but he could go for law. he’s responsible and dedicated so i think he has what it takes to pass the bar exam. i don’t know if he’d be the type of lawyer who’d go argue in court but he could deal with other stuff. either way, you’re in good hands with yang jungwon as your lawyer!!

nishimura riki aka niki: niki-san! this goofball. okay. i wrote down in my notes: dance major, music major, or kinesiology major with a minor in business/management but i really don’t think anything suits niki more than dance. he lives and breathes dance. it would be criminal to think anything else. but i also put down business/management as a minor because his parents own their own dance studio, lead ent. and i could see him wanting to open his own studio or taking up the business. the minor would probably help that aspect a lot but he would generally love to study dance and learn to perform all the different styles.

---

author’s note: i hope it wasn’t horrible or out of character for them as it is my personal guess and i don’t know them in real life. but i hope it was a fun read if you made it this far :) thank you for reading!!

[wherethingscomebackx]

Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020

h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

We’re going on our 5th year!!  As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

-

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

-

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”

Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”

Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”

He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”

Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”

“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”

-

Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)

“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”

Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.

“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”

That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.

Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.

“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.

or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)

I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over

Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.

aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

•

Pirate AU

10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

//

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.

There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.

His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.

-

Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

-

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

[mingi-bubu]

4. “How would that even work?”

Fictober22~ soulmate au, uni au, strangers to soulmates, mingi is mentioned a lot for a character who doesn’t actually speak in this, author plays fast and loose with electrical engineering and art, seunghun x reader, ~2.4k

Ever since you were a wee lamb, you've known about Words. You knew that They connected you to another person, or persons. According to your Ma, Words are the first thing that comes from the person you're Connected with when they meet you.

Your Ma told you how she found hers, suddenly appearing one day when she was starting uni. She traced over Them on the side of her neck, just barely hidden by her hair, with a faraway look on her face. 'As far as the crow flies' is what her Words are. She met your father in the courtyard by the dorms because he overheard her asking her friend how far they thought she could throw the Frisbee. And the rest was history.

Your Words didn't appear until you were nearly out of uni. One day your left hand was plain and unmarked, and you woke up the next with Words that said 'How would that even work?' running from the crook of your thumb to almost the tip of your index finger. You remember staring at Them for ages, marveling at how right it felt to see Them, how They didn't seem to feel any different from your own skin. They were a little faded compared to people who've met their Connected(s), but that's normal. Words don't darken until They're communicated by the right person.

It was weird how fate had matched with your bachelor's program—electrical engineering major with a minor in visual arts. You used the things you learned in major courses to help with projects in your minor courses. Of course, this caused a lot of people to ask, “How could that work at all?” or “Why do you think that would even work?”

Questions that were so similar to your Words, but just a bit off. You're happy you made friends with people who understand your ideas, though. Yonghee, an engineering mathematics major whom you met in your freshman year, was someone who encouraged you to try anything you came up with. Mingi, an econ major a year ahead of you who studied how math and the fashion industry intersect, was someone you relied on for inspiration for your visual arts minor. You often asked him about current trends to see how you could incorporate that into your robots' designs. You have a few other close friends—Jenny who was a year below you and studying data science; Belle who was undecided but seemed to be leaning towards math education—but Yonghee was your closest friend.

Which is why you called him at six in the morning because you finally had inspiration on your next art project and told him to meet you at the art studio in an hour and bring black tea with a smidgen of honey.

"And I'm doing this for you on a Saturday, why?" He asks, his words coming out muffled. You figured he had his head half buried in his pillows as usual. "Mmm, because you're my best friend whom I love and cherish?" Your voice is sugar-sweet as you set your phone down on your bedside table and put the call on speaker. When he doesn't respond, you call his name to see if he was awake still.

"No, I'm awake," he says, and you hear the sheets rustle as he turns over, "I'm just waiting on a better reason." His voice is still sleepy, but the words come out much more clearly.

You roll your eyes and start sifting through your dresser for your art clothes; clothes that you wouldn't mind getting paints, oil pastels, charcoal, etc. on. "Okay, how about I buy us lunch when you force me to stop working because you're hungry?"

"I choose where we eat?"

"Yes, Yong, you can choose where we eat." You throw on your paint-stained jeans and an old T-shirt from your high school days. It has a purposefully faded image of a dragon being slain by a knight. It used to have words underneath that read something like 'A Knight to remember!' and the date of the big game between your school and your rivals. You turn to your desk and open your Little Box of Toys, as Mingi calls it, and start checking to see what you want to bring with you for the beginning stages of the project.

"I'll see you at seven. You going to your regular studio?"  He checks, yawning afterwards. You hum an affirmative, and he says, "Cool. See you soon."

The phone beeps to let you know he ended the call, and you walk back to your bedside table to grab it. As soon as you pick it up, your phone begins to vibrate, your ringtone playing. Yonghee's face appears in the little contact circle.

You're a little confused, but you answer it. "Yeah, Yong?"

"Forgot to tell you something," he says. He sounds completely awake now, and you take a guess at what he forgot.

"Aww, you forgot to say you love me," you simper, batting your lashes even though he can't see.

"Sure," he dismisses, "but also that a friend from high school is visiting from out-of-town, and he might be coming with me to the studio."

"I'm not buying him lunch," you immediately say, "if we're going where I think you'll want to go, I'm barely going to have enough to cover the both of us."

"It'll be fine. He might choose to sleep in, instead." The unspoken "like I was going to" hangs in the air.  "Either way, Mingi is going to whisk him away in the early afternoon."

"Gi knows him? You guys didn't go to high school anywhere near each other, though."

"They both did dance competitions back then. Min just didn't choose to major in it, unlike Seunghun."

"Oh, neat!" You say. "Well, he is certainly welcome to come with you. Mingi, too, if he wanted to get up this early."

There's a moment of silence before the two of you laugh. "Okay, okay, I'll see you soon!"

Once again, your phone beeps to let you know that the call is over. You set your phone on your desk next to your Little Box of Toys and go into the bathroom to brush your teeth and finish the rest of your morning routine. When you come back, you see that Yonghee texted you to remind you to bring a heavier jacket because it's supposed to be cold out today.

You smile, touched at your friend's thoughtfulness. You open the message to thank him, but before you can type the words, he sends another message explaining that he didn't want to deal with you being all whiny when you got sick.

Refusing to dignify it with a response, you shove the phone into your jacket pocket. You grab the rest of your things, put your shoes on, and check that you have the keys to get you into the studio. With that all done, you leave for the studio, locking your door behind you and pocketing the keys.

You get there before Yonghee, of course. The route to the building has been ingrained in your mind since the second half of freshman year. You're polite about it, though, and wait just on the other side of the entry doors. Yonghee was right; it was cold out today. While you waited for him, only twenty more minutes before he was late, and he had to pay for lunch as forfeit, you looked around at the entryway. Your eyes fell on the bulletin board filled with posters advertising everything from a reward for a lost hedgehog to baking lessons for French pastries.

There was something about the arts building in the early morning when nobody was around that gave you a sense of where you stand in the eyes of the universe. Sure, you have Words, you have fate that Connects you to another. But the universe doesn't care about that, or rather, Words are not the only thing that exists to the universe. You can tell by how the weak light of morning starts to fully come out from behind the clouds. The beams of light fall through the window and dust motes dance in it. The leaves outside that had dark outlines around them on the sidewalk from the rain the night before that hadn't yet evaporated. The birds starting to chirp and bounce from branch to branch, tree to tree. The universe had its own rhythm and beat, and it didn't care what you did or who you were.  It was both comforting and terrifying at the same time.

The idea of Connecting did the same.  Words were, in a way, Themselves Connecting you to the universe.  You’ve heard different reports on what happens when one’s Words darken.  Some people say they feel like the wind has been knocked out of them.  Others say they feel like something in their life had clicked into place.  Your Ma told you that for her, she felt like someone had put her inside a meat locker.  She said your father felt like he was sitting right next to a bonfire.

You were broken from your thoughts by the door opening, the cold air whooshing in along with Yonghee and another person who you assume is Seunghun. Yonghee held your tea in one hand, his drink in another.  The edges of a bright orangey-pink paper bag from the café by his apartment sticks out of his pocket. Seunghun was eating a breakfast sandwich, his cheeks and nose pink from the cold. You waved them further in, grabbing the door behind them and pulling it shut faster than it would have on its own.

Yonghee was bundled in a sweater with a scarf and his windbreaker over it.  A beanie with a pink and gray poof on top, matching the scarf, sat on his head.  His darker pink hair stuck out from it in several places.  Seunghun was wearing a dark gray beanie and a navy blue peacoat.  Despite it being obvious he was still tired, he was handsome.  You could tell from the way he carried himself that he is a dancer, and that he seems like someone who wants to and likes to laugh a lot.  Both of them wore their backpacks.

Yonghee hands you your tea. "So, tell me about your project."

You excitedly start talking about your project, leading the two down the hall to your favorite studio in the back, a corner room. You like the amount of natural light that you get there.  It’s also usually ignored in favor of the other studios because of its size, so you didn’t really have to worry about someone walking in and disturbing you.

"Okay, so I read about this story that someone told about their college professor who used Tesla coils to show how electricity is conducted in plexiglass. I want to do something similar to that, but with a different spin to it."  You explain as you open the door to the studio, setting your Little Box of Toys on the design desk. You gesture to the chairs, "Go ahead and take a seat wherever. Today I'm just getting the rough idea of it down, the blueprint if you will, and maybe starting on some smaller Tesla coils."

The two guys do as you say, sliding their backpacks off, dropping them to the ground, and Yonghee pulls out the paper bag from his pocket.  He takes his own sandwich out of it and starts eating.  Seunghun looks at you politely, watching as you talk with your hands about the project.

"I want to do something similar, but with paper if possible. If not, I'll use plexiglass and inks.  I’m probably going to experiment with sizes of the coils first to see which one is most doable in this context." You take a sip of your tea and set it down, exchanging it for a little robotic joint from your box, just to have something to fiddle with in the meantime. Yonghee nods along, understanding the basic idea of your project.

Seunghun raises a hand, and when you look at him, he asks hesitantly, "How would that even work?"

You nearly snap the joint in half at hearing him say your Words, and you look down at your finger. It felt like it was burning and cooling all at once, Words darkening as if They were rising like a tide. Staring at Them, you reflexively reply, "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?"

As soon as those words come out of your mouth, Seunghun's eyes widen. Thinking he is upset with you, you start apologizing. "I am so sorry, I have no idea where that came from! It's just something I do to Yonghee all the time."

“Thanks,” said boy mutters, taking a sip of his drink.

Seunghun breaks into a smile, his left hand coming up to rest on his right shoulder, fingers tightening around the dark wool.  "Still don't have a clue about how you'll control the electricity, but I'm glad to know that the person with my Words is so ambitious."

You can't help but smile back, a warmth spreading from your chest to the rest of your body.  You feel a little giddy, a little like you can’t really focus on reality.  "Well, I mean, I'll have a Faraday cage around some of my stuff. My electronic devices—phone, tablet, etcetera—will be protected from the electricity, but no, I won't have any control."

He looks a little worried at your explanation, but Yonghee reassures him.  “YN is used to working with this kind of thing.  Believe me, they’ll be fine.”

A thought strikes you, but hesitation rises with it.  Deciding that there’s no harm in asking, you say, “If you wanted, if you’re able to of course,” the words stumble out of your mouth, “you could, um, sit with me and watch when I get to that part of my project?”

“Yeah…” he says slowly, “yeah, that would be nice.”  He ducks his head down briefly, and you can see that he’s trying to hide another smile.  As a result, you do the same, looking down at your shoes, trying to hide your pleased smile.

Yonghee looks at the both of you, and sighs dramatically while he picks up his backpack, walking towards the small set of tables clustered in the opposite corner of the room.  “I’m going to die from sweetness overload if I look at the two of you any longer.”

[obxdrewseph]

Tik Tok - Rafe Cameron

Description: Rafe Cameron falls for a girl he often sees in a cafe and is too nervous to talk to her, so his best friend, Topper, decides to take matters into his own hands and makes a tik tok asking if anyone can identify Rafe’s crush. Of course, she sees it and confronts him. 

P.S. pretend covid doesnt exist in this LOL

---------

“Bro, just do it.”

“No.”

“Rafe, c’mon man. When did you become such a pussy?”

“Shut the hell up man, I’m not.” 

“Then ask her out!” 

“No!” 

It was your typical Wednesday afternoon-- the college cafe was bustling with students coming in and out from classes and from students mingling with their friends.

Rafe and Topper sat in the midst of all the chaos, ignoring their econ homework to stare at Rafe Cameron’s current obsession.

“How is this girl different from any other you’ve liked? Just man up and ask for her number or something.” 

Rafe Cameron. 

Notorious player on campus. And douchebag. He was the type to sleep with a girl and kick her out of his room at 3 in the morning. He never had strong feelings for a girl, which is why Topper was baffled at the fact he kept staring at the dark haired, brown eyed plain Jane in the corner of the coffee shop. 

“Look, she’s just a pretty girl. And she just looks... shy I guess.” Rafe lamely said. He didn’t know why he wasn’t just barging up to her like he normally did at parties. Of course, those girls were clawing to get to him. He didn’t have to work as hard. 

Topper sighed loudly. “Fine, fine. If you’re gonna force my hand.” 

Rafe raised a brow as Topper slowly pulled his phone from his pocket. 

He then began to film the girl and zooming in on her face. 

“Top, what are you--”

“Ssssh.” 

After 30, long, agonizing seconds for Rafe Cameron, his best friend finally stopped filming the poor girl.

“Does anyone know this girl? This loser wants to ask her out...” He spoke as he typed.

“No wait--”

“Done. Just posted on tik tok.”

Rafe’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

“Now, we wait.” 

-------

You had a long day of classes and all you wanted to do was fall in your bed. 

But no, as a history major, you had to read 250 pages (the entire book needed to be read by the end of the week, but you were spacing), write detailed notes on them, and then start on your essay that is due next week. 

You always liked to get ahead of schedule so that your work wouldn’t pile up. 

After sitting in the cafe for an hour, you had to go home to cook dinner. You hated eating at cafes since bread just wasn’t your thing. 

Once you hit your dorm room, you checked your phone that seemed to have hundreds of notifications.

"The fuck?” You whispered out loud. As an RA, you could say whatever you wanted to in your room, but you still felt weird swearing in front of others. Which is why you whispered the words to yourself.

You dropped your bag at the door and quickly opened your phone. 

GIRL, CHECK TIK TOK 

Congrats, you’re famous! don’t forget me lol

rafe cameron ?? honeyyy get itttttt 

Confusion. That’s all you felt. You quickly clicked on the link on of your friends sent you. 

You watched the video set in as Topper, the owner of the account, zoomed in on your face at the cafe you were just in. You didn’t think you looked pretty as your hair was a mess and you hadn’t showered in a couple of days. 

Not to mention you were wearing jeans and a baggy t-shirt-- the normal college attire. 

As you read the caption, you felt your heart race at an abnormal rate. 

The words became blurry fairly quickly as your stress started to build up. You set your phone down on the counter to avoid dropping it-- you were rational enough to do that. 

You kept getting texts from your closest friends saying two words: Call me. But at this point, you couldn’t even think straight. What was a hot, popular guy like Rafe Cameron doing pining over you? And apparently being too afraid to ask you out?

Honestly, you had never been hit on in your first two years of college and you didn’t think it was going to start with Rafe Cameron, the richest guy at the school. And every straight college girl’s wet dream. 

You heard your phone buzz on the counter and you checked caller ID. It was your best friend.

You took a deep breath and answered it.

“Hey, you didn’t tell me you were dating Rafe Cameron.” She joked. 

“Shut up! Tell me what to do!!” You screamed. 

“Ok, ok, I can tell you’re freaking out and nervous, but this is a good thing! A happy thing! A guy liked you so much that he put a video--”

“His best friend posted the video--”

“As I was saying, put a video out about YOU! This is your chance to finally have the romance you’ve always dreamed of, right? You’re always pining after those book boyfriends or whatever who AREN’T REAL.”

She emphasized the last part which made you cringe. Your obsession with fictional characters was justified-- if she read, she would know. 

“Dude, this is Rafe. Rafe fucking Cameron.” She gasped at your swearing, a joke both of you had because you’ve known each other since you were children.

“Exactly, it’s Rafe motherfucking Cameron, meaning, you HAVE to go after him.” 

“No, you’re wrong! He’s Rafe Cameron! If he was really into me, he would’ve asked me out already. Literally no one can say no to him nor does anyone want to.” You bit your lip, thinking of ways to get out of this. “You know what? I bet this is a prank or something.”

“A prank?”

“Yeah, like Topper trying to embarrass Rafe by making an ugly girl ask him out--”

“First of all, don’t talk about yourself like that. And second, no, tik tok is not the place to embarrass girls. They would get roasted so hard. And third, THIS IS YOUR CHANCE.”

Contrary to your best friend, you never seriously wanted a relationship. You were the type to fantasize about falling in love and hyped up all of your friends when they had crushes, but you never truly found someone you wanted to get to know or wanted to date. 

It just seemed so outlandish to you. 

Plus, you wrote off college boys when one followed all of your roommates on instagram besides you. That kinda knocked your ego down. 

“Look, I’m just going to ignore this. I don’t think it’s going to be the love story you think so I’m gonna go.”

“Wait, y/n--”

You hung up before she could finish. 

You just couldn’t deal with her hopeless romanticism right now. 

You sighed and tied your hair into a messy bun. How could you finish your homework now? 

--------

“I don’t think she saw it.” 

Topper laughed at his nervous looking friend.

“Dude, she definitely saw it. It has thousands of likes the last time I checked and I’m pretty sure people were tagging her in the comments.”

Rafe fixed his hat so it covered his face. He definitely didn’t want his friend to notice it turning beet red. 

“I hate you dude.” 

“No you don’t.” 

Once again, the two rich boys were sitting in the same cafe they were in yesterday. They had been sitting in there for two hours now, and there was no sign of the mysterious girl who did or did not know she was tik tok famous.

“I don’t think she’s coming.” Rafe commented. On one hand, he was relieved he wouldn’t have to talk to her. But on the bigger hand, he desperately wanted to see her again. He didn’t know why he was so captivated by her brightly dyed hair or the 10 pins stuck on her backpack. She seemed so normal, yet she stuck out with all the book stickers she had on her laptop. Rafe would never tell a living soul that he liked reading YA romance novels but he felt like he could confide in this mysterious girl. 

“I don’t know. It’s still early.” Topper noted. 

“Um, excuse me?” 

The two boys’ heads shot up at the dainty voice.

You were wearing black ripped jeans with a white top; it was the most simple outfit Rafe had seen you in as you usually dressed in bright colors. He would never admit it, but he even noticed when you changed your nail polish.

What Rafe didn’t know was that your best friends held an intervention last night and told you to dress “more to his style” which included simple attire. Yet, you couldn’t fully immerse in the role and wore your favorite bucket hat that was covered in white daisies. 

“Hey,” Rafe said lamely. 

Topper immediately gathered his stuff and left you two alone. What a homie.

At Rafe’s bland answer, you smiled politely. 

“Can I sit?” You asked. Rafe nodded and gestured towards the seat. He didn’t know why he was acting so weird, but you were just so much prettier up close. 

He could see the bright red earrings you wore that matched your Nikes and noticed your clumsily applied makeup (which he knew because his sister was so good at it). It only made his heart race even faster.

“Um, so I saw the video... I’m sure you know which one I’m talking about.” 

The boy blushed.

“Yeah?” He tried to act suave and calm, but his nerves were all over the place. He felt a bit calmer seeing the girl start to play with her hair: a nervous trait his sister said most girls had. 

“Um, well, I... I was wondering...” The girl trailed off, her face turning a darker red. He almost felt bad for her, but she was so darn cute and wanted her to continue.

“Look, I’m really bad at this... and I know you’re good at it, so...” 

The boy’s ego inflated slightly. 

“So?” 

This wasn’t going the way you wanted it to go. You felt frustrated that you couldn’t even get the words out that you practiced. Your eyes prickled with tears from embarrassment; you wanted to get out of the situation as soon as possible. You didn’t know what you were thinking approaching the hottest guy in campus and expect not to be tongue tied. 

And his lack of words made you think he was just messing with you. 

You felt a gentle hand on top of yours which burst your drama bubble. You looked up and saw Rafe’s bright blue eyes full of concern, and... something else.

Dammit, he probably thinks I’m a weirdo. 

“Hey, it’s ok. Honestly, it was my friend, the one who left earlier, it was his idea to put the video up and he did it without my permission. If it were up to me, it would’ve taken a lot longer to pluck up the courage to approach you...” He confessed. 

This shocked you. Rafe Cameron... tongue tied around you?? 

“Look, let’s start over. I’m Rafe Cameron, junior, business major, and fun fact: I’m on the hockey team.” You knew all of those details, but you let him give a formal introduction. You thought it was cute that he felt the need to explain all of this to you because there wasn’t anyone at your campus who didn’t know who he was.

You held out your hand.

“Y/N, a sophomore and a history major. Fun fact: I’m an RA.” His eyes brightened at your response and shook your hand with a smile. 

He had to practice his stern handshake with businessmen his father forced him to meet, but your hands were gentle and soft, like they were afraid of hurting him. It’s been a while since someone has treated him so delicately. He liked it. 

“Well, y/n, it’s a good thing I don’t live in the dorms because I definitely would’ve tried to act up to get your attention.” He teased. 

You laughed at the response because you knew a couple of the young freshmen who made a ruckus in the lounges so that you had to come in and yell at them. 

You shrugged. “I don’t know, we could’ve met sooner if you were.” 

The flirty words flowed from you naturally and you wanted to take them back as soon as they left your mouth.

But they made Rafe Cameron blush, so you let it go.

Suddenly, his watch buzzed and he swore under his breath.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I have a business meeting to get to. Can I get your number for uhhh... for future purposes?” 

His slight fumble of words made you grin.

“Of course.” 

I guess tik tok is good for something. 

[flockofdoves]

on one hand i think its very cool that my university has one of the few heterodox econ departments in the country (even if its got less radical and marxian in recent years) and has a major thats just like a combo of getting to study that and history, gender studies, afroam, etc. and now that i’ve realized that for what i want to do with my future i gotta go to grad school and it doesnt matter too much what i do for undergrad i generally think its cool i get to have the opportunity to learn about things i care about through having that as one of my majors

but also my experience with the classes within my major (and not the ones taken in other departments for it since its interdisciplinary) has just been with one professor who drives me insane. i thought it was less bad now and that maybe how much i hated her classes before was largely just how fight-y i was an a 18-19 year old but no lol its still like that

theres only like three professors in this major and the way they have it set up makes it so if you take things on time you end up usually just taking things with one professor but i really cannot bear another class with her i’m gonna get behind on stuff again just to hold out hope its better with another one of the teachers

like i never have really had faith in academic leftism but i still value the opportunity to have a structured space to study things i care about but literally so much of the way she teaches about stuff is sooooo exemplative of that it makes me question sometimes whats even the point of my being in this major is i’m gonna keep being subjected to this. incredibly depressing that its like this even at a university known for having such a history of radicalism in these departments

some of the stuff she says feels genuinely harmful and so fucking anti-marxist in the most ineffectual way and so many people i know have been introduced to so many concepts for the first time through her never realizing some of the not just skewed ways she talks about stuff but often just genuinely untrue in ways she Has to know are untrue regardless of her personal opinions on the theories shes talking about herself

[florenceandthemachine]

i am in major need of some soft and happy stackson so talk to me about when they first get together and they can’t keep their hands off each other, both in a gross way like making out in front of all their friends and not giving a fuck but also being lovey dovey as shit all the time and surprising the hell out of the whole town because it is not what they were expecting at all.

BB I hope you are ready for a Full Canon Rewrite because honestly, they would probably get together after something super, terrifyingly emotional. Like after Jackson’s monster-master-driven apparently death, it would be Stiles who had leaped forward, and clutched Jackson’s body like his own life depended on it—and then, to everyone else’s shock, Jackson wrapped his arms around him just as tightly, his face now fully wolfed out, not a kanima scale in sight. 

It would be... unexpected. But if anyone could defy the odds, it was Stiles.

And Jackson, of course. But only when Stiles was involved. 

They weren’t disgusting, though. Not at first anyway. Nothing compared to what Stiles had to put up with in the past, between Jackson and Lydia and Scott and Allison. 

It would start with the little touches—the tenderness between the two of them would be undeniable. Stiles would be the type to be walking in the halls next to Jackson, texting with one hand, and the other would instinctively latch on to Jackson—his hand, or his arm, his backpack strap, and ultimately his belt loop, tethering himself to Jackson in a way that made Jackson flush. Jackson would never bring it up, of course, too worried that if he were to say anything, it would stop. 

But it would never stop. 

They would sit front and center in any of the classes that they had. Coach only tried to separate them once during Econ, and they had both done so disastrously bad on their next test that he immediately gave up. After all, they certainly weren't a disturbance in class, it was just kind of.... hard, sometimes, to watch two idiot teenagers in love sitting in the front of the class.

Stiles would be the one who instigates almost all of their contact, but he would only be comfortable doing it because he knows Jackson not so secretly loves it. He would be the one to link their legs at the ankles when they were studying in the library, if they were at a table too far apart for them to hold hands. He would be the one to loop an arm around Jackson’s shoulders during their pre-game locker room rituals, and he would be the one who almost pulls Jackson into his lap during pack meetings. 

(He worried, for all of twelve minutes, that Jackson was just tolerating his touch—he had tried to stop it only once, and after nearly an hour of Jackson being far grumpier than usual while simultaneously staring at Stiles hands, Stiles had idly gripped Jackson’s shoulder, given just the smallest squeeze, and watched the tension bleed out of his face almost instantly. So, obviously, the touching was a win win.)

The only hard part would be getting Jackson to understand that touch was okay between the two of them, in public. Private Jackson was plenty affectionate, but in public, while he responded well to Stiles touch, getting him to instigate anything was nigh impossible. 

Stiles, as usual, dealt with it in a sneaky and underhanded way that appealed to Jackson and his wolf and would probably make Scott frown at him, so he considered it a win. 

In the end, all he had to do was sigh and kiss Jackson’s knuckles while they were walking in to school, smiling sheepishly when Jackson looked over to him with an impossibly dopey smile. 

“Sorry. I just, uh, I like this. Like it when you touch me, you know? Makes me feel like I’m yours.”

His heartbeat was steady—he was telling the truth, of course—but just as he expected, Jackson’s eyes blew wide, and suddenly he had his arms full of happy werewolf, dipping him into a deep kiss on the school steps like they were in some kind of Disney movie. 

If he had known what kind of monster he had released, Stiles would have done that so much sooner; because Jackson, he was basically insatiable once he realized he was allowed to initiate physical contact. And Stiles loved it.

Holding hands in the hallway wasn’t enough anymore. Jackson would have his arms round Stiles waist, walking perfectly in step, close enough that Jackson could point out the rare odd calculation as Stiles poured over his notes, and Stiles could laugh at some snarky observation that Danny texted him. 

Sitting together at lunch wasn’t enough anymore. Jackson would sidle up behind him, arms around Stiles and chin on his shoulder, huffing impatiently when Stiles was too absorbed in something to notice him right away—and that said something, that Stiles was so comfortable with Jackson in his space that he didn’t always notice it, it said something that Jackson both loved and was terrified of.

Hell, even going through doorways wasn’t enough anymore. Jackson would open the door for him and then guide Stiles through, let his hand rest on the small of Stiles back in a way that was the perfect balance between sweet and possessive.

Stiles would, completely unconsciously, lean into any touch that Jackson gave him. 

But no, they weren’t disgusting. At least, not at first. And not in the broad public eye. Publicly, they were fucking tame, or so he told himself, ignoring the way his breath hitched when Jackson bit down on his collarbone, smothering his own groan in Jackson’s mouth when he finally came in their hiding spot beneath the bleachers, whipping an undershirt out of Jackson’s gym bag to clean himself up before sixth period started. 

(Jackson acted like he hated it, but Stiles wouldn’t even entertain the notion that Jackson didn’t love having Stiles’ scent so close to him all day.)

They had actually waited a long time, teenager-wise, before they started fucking. Jackson was afraid of being Stiles first, to be frank, and Stiles was willing to deprive himself of the bounty of Jackson’s body for as long as it took to convince Jackson that he wasn’t just in it for sex. 

(They had come painfully close to it, one Tuesday night when Jackson was staying at his place—literal months after they started dating. Stiles was on top of Jackson and Jackson was being so responsive to his touch, so good, and Stiles could barely hear anything over his own heart hammering because finally, the time felt right, this was right, they were both ready and—

and then Scott had come bursting through his unlatched window.

“Stiles, are you okay? I was patrolling and your heartbeat sounded super fucked up and I wanted to be sure that OH MY GOD MY EYES JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE FUCK YOU TWO OH GOD I AM SO SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN TO OH MY GOD.”

Jackson, the asshole, had almost laughed himself into a coma, but Stiles was so red you could fry an egg on his face, his self confidence gone in a flash. Jackson made it up to him with lots of cuddling and reassurance and Thai food while they watched a movie. stiles had said “I love you” for the first time that night, and even though he reassured Jackson that he didn’t have to say it back right away, Jackson just beamed at him and parroted it back almost instantly.

[The first time they did have sex, neither of them lasted longer than a minute, and suddenly Jackson was the embarrassed one, and it was perfect.])

Once they had started, though, it brought a whole new level of insatiable to their touches. Stiles no longer just held Jackson’s arm while they walked, he let his fingers trace every vein and contour of muscle beneath his shirt, in a way that was so blatantly pornographic—and somehow completely innocent—that even the most sexually comfortable bystander felt the need to avert their eyes. 

When they studied, it wasn’t enough to have Jackson’s hand on his thigh—Jackson would let his fingers ghost over Stiles shorts, or pants, or whatever, his fingers getting closer and closer to Stiles groin with every trace, pretending like he didn’t love how Stiles would lean closer to him, until he was basically in Jackson’s lap in the library. 

They had kissed in the locker room before, sure—but now it was to the point where Scott announced himself, loudly, when entering, if there was even the slightest suspicion that the two of them were alone in there (and even then, he had walked in twice to find the two of them very, very scantily clad, blushing bright red and avoiding eye contact with Scott and one another).

Sties, in his defense, had started to fight fire with fire, meaning that each time Scott complained about them at the lunch table (and okay, maybe that one time where Jackson had licked some ranch dressing off of Stiles palm was a bit much), Stiles immediately redirected with some embarrassing thing he had in his Scott folder—which proved to be entirely unnecessary, because less than a week into Scott and Allison bringing Isaac into their little romance, Stiles had more ammo on Scott than he ever wanted to have on anybody else, ever.

Their relationship was fairly public, and that was easy to see, but... there was so much more that came with that. There was a certain level of trust between them, the kind that Stiles would never have imagined before—but once Jackson had those walls down, it was like they were down for good. Stiles was there for every moment of it—he could still remember the first night he had to wake Jackson up from a nightmare, being extra mindful of the claws, the first time he had walked in on a fight between Jackson and his parents, had witnessed first hand what he could only call a temper tantrum where Jackson had nearly shredded his own mattress. 

(Whenever Jackson had an outburst like that, Stiles always took note of the things he took his aggression out on. It was always his own things, never Stiles, and never anything that Stiles held near. It was... fascinating, and so sad, all at once.)

Jackson, in turn, could tell when Stiles was on the brink of a panic attack by the sound of his heart alone, and had actually (literally, unfortunately) ripped a door from its hinges to get to Stiles before he had completely spiraled out of control. Jackson was better than Scott, even, at getting his breathing to even out, his heart to slow. And for once, Stiles actually had the chance to talk about what was bothering him, what had pushed him over the edge in the first place.

Full moons were some of the best worst nights that they had together, because Jackson basically went “full beast mode” as Stiles called it. Basically, anyone or anything came near Stiles, and Jackson could not be held accountable for his actions. Stiles loved it almost as much as the day after, when Jackson was soft and a little embarrassed and Stiles got to pamper him with kisses, and soft touches, and so much love. 

So, alright, maybe they were that disgusting couple, but they were in love, and Stiles didn’t care who saw it. They were together through literally the worst parts of their lives, and now they got to be together for the best, so who cared?

Stiles had his arms around Jackson when Jackson decided to come out to his parents. Jackson was there for Stiles when Stiles told his dad about all the supernatural stuff. They got through some of the incredibly harder points of their own lives with one another—and all the physicality along the way—and Stiles wouldn’t have it any other way. 

After all, as much as he loved Jackson taking his hand as they got ready to walk the stage and receive their diplomas, as much as he loved Jackson giving him a kiss when they all tossed caps, as much as he loved Jackson kissing his wrist when he got down on one knee in that ugly ass graduation robe in front of God and everybody (and he cried, oh God did Stiles cry), he loved the man behind it even more. 

[ofbarreras]

hey everyone ! first of all, i am SO excited to finally get to write with you all ! i’m a, and i write eddie barrera aka ritenuto ! i’m 23, est, she / her. currently, when i’m not watching way too much tv or reading, i’m in college. thankfully, i’m technically on winter break now. below is eddie’s intro, but his full bio can be found here. his connections page is here, but it’s empty because i want to plot stuff out with people. lastly, here is a list of headcanons that is being regularly updated. all of the ones on his intro can be found there. 

stats

full name: eduardo barrera

nickname: eddie

gender & pronouns: cis male, he / him

orientation: bisexual / biromantic

age: twenty-two

occupation: none

status: deceased

history

tw: anxiety, mentions of a panic attack, death

growing up, eddie’s parents had very high expectations for him. he really does believe in his heart that they just wanted what was best for him, but always having to be the perfect son did a number on him. even now, he tries so hard to please others that he forgets to put himself first.

for a.... very long time he was a popular jock ( rip ), except he was the quiet, nice jock who just sits with the douchebags. he played soccer and hated it.

he taught himself to play the piano when he was eight, and it’s his favorite thing, honestly. any time he’s stressed or upset, catch him jamming out on the piano.

eddie’s always known he was an anxious person, but it wasn’t until his first panic attack when he was fifteen that he realized how bad it was. playing the piano definitely helps, but he still has his rough days.

being in the band helped too, of course. joining a rock band wasn’t something his parents loved, but it made eddie happy. he loved his time with the band - it was the best part of his life. 

eddie went to ucla on a partial academic scholarship. the rest of the money came from his parents, as well as the part time job he had to help cover his own rent. because his parents paid for things, he really didn’t have many options with what he majored in, so he technically has an econ degree ( y i k e s ). 

dying hasn’t been easy on him. he’s coping...somewhat. he’s just really lost right now. i don’t think he knows whether or not he wants to move on, or whether he wants to try to keep the band going. i think he’s really struggling with what to do next in general. 

headcanons

eddie has a little sister, isabel aka izzy. they used to get on each other’s last nerves, but he did love her. she was about three years younger than him, and he’s so weirded out by the idea of her now being in her mid 30s. if he ever did decide to go see a member of his family, it would probably be her. but also he’s really unsure as to whether he wants to see any of them, or if that would just hurt too much.

used to be a classical pianist only sort of guy but obviously branched out once he joined killer conclusions. still, i feel like he may not have had quite the impressive musical taste as some of his bandmates. he absolutely loved backstreet boys and britney spears. sorry dali !!! but also he’s a big fan of fleetwood mac.

disaster bi. literally anyone at all flirts with him and he’s like “is this love ?” he had terrible luck with love when he was alive, and i’m not sure it’s much better now that he’s dead, honestly. but who knows. not me.

eddie is third generation. he’s colombian on his mother’s side and mexican on his dad’s, and he’s bilingual. around the house, the barrera’s mostly spoke spanish, unless they had guests over. they made sure that eddie and izzy still felt connected to both colombian and mexican culture.

he was raised catholic, but he stopped going to church after he moved out. he considered himself to be more agnostic at the time of his death, and at this point is like “that’s too much to process on top of everything else, thanks.” 

as much as i love classical pianist eddie barrera, a part of me would love for him to learn a second instrument at some point. give him some musical range !!!!

he was such an absolute teacher’s pet in school, oh my god. like he doesn’t mean to be a suck up, but he likes rules and being liked. so he ended up often being the kid that adults trusted.

eddie is a short king. he’s only 5′7′’ but we love that for him. 

he’s gone by eddie for as long as he can remember, but i think it would be excellent for someone to call him eduardo at least once.

he sings harmony sometimes and that is it !!! well maybe the occasional duet, but nothing more than little solos here and there. the thought of singing a full song by himself is terrifying.

if he had been able to chose his own major, i think he would have picked music tbh.

eddie can absolutely chicken out of things. he does it often. if he has enough time to talk himself out of doing something, he will - which is why he needs people to push him. 

team mom, now and forever. 100% the friend who has to be like “this is the dumbest idea you’ve never had.” definitely the voice of reason. also, once he’s close to you, he can be a bit snarky. like, i think he definitely calls people dumbass very affectionately. 

he can come across as distant and almost maybe even a little bit aloof at first ? he’s just not great at letting people in right away, it takes him some time usually. but if you manage to get past that, he’s the sweetest guy. he has such a big heart and he’s absolutely so loyal to his friends. he would do anything for the people he cares about, almost to the point of being self-sacrificing. again, he puts his own needs last, so he would give up anything for his friends in a heartbeat. 

[boymeetsweevil]

Another draft because FS is taking too long

Title: two wrongs don’t make a right (so what do two douchebags and a dweeb make?)

Douche/fuck boy Jimin and Jin, weirdo!OC

Jimin waits until the girl’s tiny frame disappears down the hallway in a blur of overly familiar stained sweats before turning to stare down a very sheepish looking Jin.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, got it?” He rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it and making him resemble a cockatoo.

“Dude, relax. I get it, you have a rep to maintain. Everyone ventures outside their type for a first time.”

Jin winces. He knows he’s known for being incredibly picky—only ever sleeping with 4.0 girls (the number referring to their maximum dress size and minimum GPA). Someone even did a story on it in the Hot Takes section of the school magazine. He’s still not sure if it’s a moment he should proud of.

“About that…” he trails off and tugs nervously at the throw blanket he hastily clothed himself with when Jimin burst into their shared living room only to catch him in a rather compromising position. With that girl of all people.

“What?”

“Itsnotthefirsttimeanditwontbethelast”

Jimin blinks slowly, trying to process the flurry of words and Jin’s ashamed tone. When what Jin said finally hits him, he grins darkly.

“Man, c’mon. Don’t joke like that about her, its not nice.”

“Jimin, I’m—,” Jin looks around the hallway suspiciously before dragging Jimin into the dorm and slamming the door shut. “I’m being serious, okay?” Jimin’s jaw drops and he begins to sputter.

“But…why her?”

The first time Jimin encountered you was during a particularly late night in the stacks of the library last semester. The year was starting off hard and he was getting his ass kicked in one particular introductory psych class.

At around 1 in the morning, he had one more problem to finish on his take-home exam but was desperately stuck. He remembered seeing someone who he recognized from class sitting in the economics section. He thought it was odd initially. Usually no one sat there because the smell from the librarians’ bathroom often carried over. And no one wanted to study to the smell of coffee shits.

Taking a break, he grabbed his laptop and wandered around the stacks to find the classmate. When he found you, you were in the process of packing up, struggling to get your earphones into the headphone jack of your phone while also carrying a stack of periodicals and a burger from the campus grill, which happened to be leaking ketchup onto your already dingy tracksuit. He approached you carefully.

“Hey, you’re in Professor Kang’s class, right?”

“Huh?”

His voice startled you and you lost your precarious grip on your stuff. The poorly wrapped burger fell to the floor and bled a little onto your white converse. The periodicals fluttered down around your feet.

“Shit, sorry. Lemme help you,” he offered as he put his laptop down. You gasped from your spot already crouched on the ground.

“No, please, it’s really okay. Please, I’m fine, I don’t need—“

But he already had one printout from the stack in his hand and automatically turned it over. When Jimin looks back on the memory, he thinks that this may have been the biggest mistake he’s ever made in his life.

He would later find out after a nervous google search that the paper in his hand, and probably 80 percent of the papers on the ground, were called fursonas. While a handful might have been somewhat decent, most of them were of overly buff rabbits with bubble butts raised for the viewer or tigers fisting weeping, veiny dicks over pastel backgrounds. The one he held was of a duck, or something, with a weight lifter’s body with an obscene expression on its face while tentacles swarmed it from all angles. The implications of what might be happening in the picture made Jimin’s head hurt.

“Oh my god, what the fuck. What the fuck,” he whispered. He was so stunned that he let you rip the page from his hand.

“It’s called fur-centric hentai and its art,” you hissed. The line sounded mechanical and well-practiced if you asked Jimin. He watched you gather the rest of your belongings quickly, burger included, before leaving him crouched in the economics stacks.

Jin snaps his fingers in front of Jimin’s zoned out face only to have him be brought back to reality with a look of slight disgust.

“What’s your problem, fix your face,” Jin snapped.

“I’m just trying to figure out why you chose her, of all people. You remember that story I told you about the Econ stacks. I was so scarred, I got a C on that test.”

“Pretty sure you got a C because you didn’t realize there was a second page of the homework.”

“Well, if she hadn’t thrown her weird animal dicks all over the place, I would have realized there was a back and finished the assignment”

Jin sniffs and drops the blanket he was wearing, before walking over to the kitchen to get a drink, naked as the day he was born. Jimin follows on autopilot.

“Maybe you should stop trying to yuck my yum,”Jin says over his shoulder.

“Oh my god, don’t say it like that. I’m just saying, man. She’s weird. And gross. And more importantly not.Your. Type.” He enunciates each word with a poke to Jin’s bare back while he gets them some beers.

“You think I don’t fucking know that? That’s why I keep it discrete. Why do you think I told you not to come home every Tuesday and Thursday at until after 8:30?”

“You said you had lab.”

“How the hell could I do a lab in our apartment?”

“It…It could happen.”

“I’m a poetry major,” Jin pinches the bridge of his nose at his roommate’s stupidity, “Damnit Jimin.”

Jimin purses his lips when he realizes he might be even dumber than he thought.

“Wait a second, you’ve had lab,” he makes giant air quote gestures, “for, what, 2 months now? You’ve just been fucking her this whole time?”

There’s a beat of silence as Jin takes another swig from his beer. “Yeah,” he finally says. The matter of fact air of his response makes something glitch in Jimin’s brain.

“What the hell, dude? That’s a lot of repeat service. Does she have something on you? Is that why you’re doing this? Did you break an expensive-ass vase or something?” Jimin stops to think, his mind running wild with possibilities. “Holy shit, are you being pimped out?”

“No. God, would you just shut up?” Jin sighs quietly. “I’m sleeping with her so much because she’s the best I’ve ever had.”

Jimin takes a step back at the defeated sincerity in Jin’s tone.

“How? What about that time with that other girl--what was her name?” Jimin runs a hand through his hair trying to remember any name of one of many the girls Jin has had a fling with. “Oh! Irene or something? What about her?”

“I mean, Irene was fine. She gave pretty good head. But last Thursday I thought I came harder than I’ve ever come in my entire life.”

“You ‘thought’?”

Jin looks up wistfully somewhere behind Jimin’s head at the memory. “Well then she came over the following Tuesday and rocked my shit,” he smirks. “And then that was the hardest I’ve ever come in my life.”

“So she gives good head. Who cares? There’s plenty of girls on campus who give good head and also don’t draw furry porn for a living and wash their damn sweatpants.”

“You don’t understand, dude. It’s not just the head. It’s the head, and the handjobs, and the pussy. It’s everything.”

Jimin raises his eyebrows incredulously. “The pussy is better than the handjobs?” He has to try hard not to look impressed. Meanwhile Jin is smilng, almost relieved now that the secret is out and he can talk openly about the mindblowing sex he’d been having.

“The first time she jerked me off, I passed out immediately after I came and woke up late to the class the next afternoon.”

Jimin narrows his eyes but motions with a hand for Jin to continue.

“The first time she blew me I couldn’t even walk afterward.”

“Wait...was that the day you told me you thought you had a sprained ankle? The one that healed after 24 hours?”

“Yep.”

The smug tone and the second stupid lie make Jimin want to rip his hair out. “Why do you lie so much,” he whispered, pain in his voice.

“I wasn’t lying, I really thought I had a sprained ankle.”

“From a blowjob?”

“That’s what I said.”

“What about the, uh, the pussy,” Jimin asks after realizing the FBI probably won’t come through the doors and snipe him for talking about vagina.

“The one time she let me hit it raw, I cried.,” Jin says, absolutely beaming.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“I am, though. I think she was gonna let me do it again today.” Jin closes his eyes and smiles softly while Jimin looks on, unamused.

“So? What happened today? She underperform or something?” There’s a hint of jealousy and a lot of curiosity in his tone, but Jimin would deny it if anyone asked him.

“No, asswipe. She got spooked because you showed up when you weren’t supposed to.”

“Well, sorry for ruining your lies,” Jimin snaps, cracking open his own beer.

“You think this is a joke?” Jin shoves Jimin in the chest roughly. “We didn’t get to finish because of you. Now I have to jerk off with my own hand. That’s pathetic”

“And what were you doing before you met her? Listen to yourself, she’s making you crazy. No one is that good in bed.”

Jin stomps over to the couch and settles down before turning and looking at Jimin over the backboard.

“You know what? You go and sleep with her 3--no--4 times. And if she doesn’t completely fry your brain, I’ll pay for any and all of your takeout for the next month. But If she does, you gotta switch mattresses with me and not come by the dorm until after 10 on Tuesdays and Thursdays from then on.”

“Dude, gross I don’t want your sex soaked mattress. It’s the same as yours anyway. Minus the ten gallons of old jizz on it.”

“No, it’s not. You have that, like, Tempurpedic thing.”

“True,” Jimin nods thoughtfully, “But don’t you think it would be weird if the roommate of the guy she was fucking started trying to get in her pants? Also, I could just lie and say she didn’t do it for me. Then you’d be forced to pay for my food and—Hold on. If she’s so good, why are you so willing to pawn her off to me?”

“Why do you ask so many stupid questions? First of all, she’s not mine just because I’m sleeping with her. I’m just telling you to go see if she’ll let you. I mean, there’s no guarantee. She barely even gave me a shot.”

“She barely gave you a shot? But you’re, like, the campus prince”, more air quotes, “How did this even happen?”

“Well, to make a long story short, we were both high at her sorority and I’d heard rumors about her from Wonho, so I went to…talk to her in her room.”

“Wonho is Wonho, though. He’d fuck anyone if the weed was good.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken, my friend. He has a diverse and sophisticated palate. He knows what he’s talking about when it comes to weed and sex. Once I took him up on his suggestion and she said yes, I never looked back,” Jin says with a dreamy voice.

Jimin watches the back of Jin’s head loll on the sofa. When a soft sigh emerges from where the older man is sitting, Jimin recoils and runs out of the kitchen, away from the couch.

“Are you jerking off right now? Dude. Not cool.”

“Get the fuck out, then. It’s Thursday, which means I’m getting off by 7:30pm and I don’t give a rat’s ass who’s here when it happens.”

“Fine,” Jimin huffs and reluctantly stuffs his feet back into his sneakers where they lie by the door. “I hope your dick chafes.”

Jin purposefully releases another, louder moan and Jimin runs out of the apartment.

“I’ll have an order of the half crispy, half spicy and a large coke. Thanks,” Jimin says to the clerk at the grill before checking his phone for the 8th time in the hour.

8:01 Jimin - Are you done yet?

             (8:10 read by Jin)

8:11 Jin - yeah but round two starts soon so

8:11 Jin - *middle finger emoji*

Jimin quickly shuts down his messenger app and opens up Flappy Bird while he sits at a table and waits for his order number to be called.

“Stupid asshole and his stupid dick, kicking me out of the stupid apartment. Fuck you, dickhead,” Jimin mutters to himself.

“What did you just say?” 

Jimin’s head whips up at the infantile voice coming from the seat across from him. Jeon Jungkook is sitting at his table, eating a veggie burger. Who the hell orders a veggie burger from a chicken place?

“Were you talking to me,” Jungkook asks again, pushing his bulky glasses up with a finger.

“Jeon, why would I be talking to you? A better question is why the hell are you talking to me?

[purplesurveys]

733

First things first...name, please? Robyn.

Are you in high school, middle school, college? I’m supposed to be in college but I only had two months of classes for my final semester ever and I’ll always be pretty bummed about that. For now all that’s left to do/wait for is to graduate. Which grade did you just complete? The sem isn’t ending until April 30th but I’m virtually pretty much finished with my senior year of college/university. Which class was the easiest? Throughout college my easiest class was Biology 1, actually. I already loved biology from high school and given that the class I took in college was the most basic bio course being offered (and also the fact that I had spent the year before studying for college entrance exams which all had a big chunk of biology questions), I was already very familiar with the information being taught. Which one was the hardest? A stupid Econ elective that I didn’t even want to take. I only took it because it was required for us journalism majors. Philosophy 1 was also difficult and that’s mainly because I find studying philo so boring.

What was your final GPA? Nothing’s finalized yet but I’m currently at 1.47. Trying to pull it up to at least a 1.45, but we’ll see by the end of the sem.   Did you take any AP/honors classes? We don’t have that in UP. I think the other uni across the road has honors majors for those who scored higher in the entrance exams, but I don’t know that for sure. Who was your favorite teacher and why? I loved my international relations prof because he was very passionate about his pol sci specialization and was able to explain all of our topics and all concepts exceptionally well. I took one big risk taking a very unfamiliar and very advanced pol sci class and was scared in the beginning but he was such an amazing teacher that there was nothing to be scared of at all. Who was your least favorite teacher and why? My Contemporary History of the Philippines was so...all over the place. I was the beadle for his class and I always saw how unprepared he was whether with his Powerpoints, the topics he taught, right down to the questions he’d ask in class. The last straw for me was when he made us decide what we wanted to do for our final exam. Which classes did you take this year? I only had class for two months but I had the Rizal course (mandatory for all colleges/universities), History of Women in the Philippines, Online Journalism, Community Press, Business Reporting, and my PE class for table tennis. I was also enrolled in J 200 which is essentially our thesis but there weren’t any physical classes for it. What was the most memorable event? The first ones that popped in my head were the times I watched my first Oblation Run, and my first time seeing a rally. Did you attend any school dances? Which ones? In high school I went to a prom and a ball. With the pandemic issue still going around, I doubt the graduating class this year will be having the usual senior party/dinner/dance thingy.   Did you have a boyfriend this year at school? I had a girlfriend. How many guys did you have a crush on? I liked one guy when I was in high school, Lance. The crush didn’t last long because after observing him for a while I had to acknowledge that we had very different personalities. I didn’t and haven’t had any crushes, other than Gab, in college. Were you involved in any clubs? Yeah I joined one of the two journalism organizations in my college, and in my senior year I also joined the yearbook team. When I was a freshman I tried to join the biggest LGBT+ org in the university but I found the application process super daunting and scary for an introvert like myself, so I ghosted them :/ I also tried to join AIESEC but their org culture is very different from what I was used to that I had to fake it there every day; eventually I got tired of faking so I had to halt my application process. Where did you usually eat lunch? I usually never had time to go to Area 2 to get a legit lunch but thankfully there are several food stalls near all the buildings so when I’m rushing to my next class, I get instant noodles and kwek-kwek to eat inside the classroom. If I’m lucky enough to have a lunch break I’ll eat at Skywalk. Who is graduating this year that you are sad to see leave? I’m in the graduating batch, so I’m sad over not only leaving my underclassmen friends behind but also parting with my fellow graduating friends. Did you have any siblings at your school this year? Nope. Nina goes to a different school and it’s all the way in Manila. Did you ever get detention? We don’t have detention from preschool to college. Did you fail any classes? I never failed a class in college, though my lowest mark was a 2.50 in stupid econ. What is one interesting thing about your school? The Diliman commune was an event in 1971 when students, professors, and staff alike protested the oil price hike during the Marcos admin. They barricaded the roads with chairs and desks to keep the police and military from coming in, physics professors made molotovs to keep the military helicopters away, and classes were suspended for those few days; at one point a math prof who was known to be pro-admin also shot a 17 year old student. It ended a little after a week but I’m not super aware of the events at that point.

Did you have uniforms or free dress? Free dress. UP is as liberal as liberal gets, in every way possible.

Which classes will you be taking next year? :D Did you play any sports after school? Which ones? No, I’m not in varsity nor am I part of any sports orgs. Are you going to the same school next year? I’m graduating. I wish I can stay in UP forever, though.

Now let's focus on summer!

Are you excited that school is over? I’m miserable that it was over so fast. I wish I said yes to more lunches, more drinking seshes, more dinners, etc.

What are you going to do over the summer? This lockdown is already kind of like my summer, my final summer ever that is. I’ve been home for so long that I’m already looking at this as what was supposed to have been my unemployment break if the year happened normally; I’m definitely gonna have to get a job ASAP after this.

Are you going to change anything about yourself over the summer? I’m gonna be hunting for my first job, for one.

[finnanbeaton]

Worldbuilding questions! In your world... Is the economy currency based or based on bartering physical goods? What is most valuable? What is least? | What do dwellings typically look like? What materials are usually used in their construction? Are there stylistic features common among structures? | What is the typical wardrobe like? Colourful or dull? Fancy or functional? Warm or light?

This got super long, so there’s now a read more

~Is the Economy Currency Based or based on Bartering?

  a) It depends on location and access. In the Spindle ‘Verse, there are several major economies that happen simultaneously. The major economy that’s is the evolution of our current model of currency but has switched to an entire electronic method. You have your legal methods and your illegal methods of transferring money between people. The legal method is determined based on your UBI which all citizens have once a spindle is installed and they’ve reached the age of sixteen. Citizens can apply for work programs, university education, and internships once they’ve finished schooling but the numbers for each are limited. Each Megalopolis have their own numbers for what positions and jobs are available at any given time. Spindles work as a biometric tag, an identification, access to the internet, access to the government, complete health history. Everything is collated and transferred via the Spindle. Money is no longer physically necessary because those who wish to purchase things, can either purchase them from the net, or if they would like to go to a local store walk in and walk out with their items the system debiting their bank accounts upon leave. However, this hasn’t stopped people from referring to money, the general term used is Coin.

However, to get around these limitations and to have funds available or necessary items not provided by UBI or other means, bartering has sprung up in many places. Most notably you’ll find bartering systems in the old Waterfront, and inside the Weeds. The tent cities that pop up around the waterfront are strictly prohibited from using any forms of currency, they’re given only so much and access so Spindles are limited to citizens only.

That being said, economies spring up where they need to and use whatever they have on hand. Bartering is one of the easiest forms of trade, whether in physical goods or in skill. Pop ups are very common where noncoms open up quick pop markets, for exchange skills (repair services, health services, etc), textiles are very popular.

The Weeds has done something similar with markets and bartering. When the Havens started enforcing limits on jobs and businesses that could be opened they stopped requesting and opened stalls on the street. In the beginning the police tried to quell the markets, claiming they opened up to black market items and illegal goods, but the markets kept on coming and the people fought back. In order to keep the peace the markets were allowed to stay.

Off Comms deal with their economy an even different way, dealing with both currency and bartering systems as necessary. Most OffComms are socialist communes where no one person owns one thing. Things within the public domain are kept there and everyone has access. Fair compensation is given for goods and things like food and shelter are provided and obtained as a collective. It’s not a perfect system and there are things that need to be worked out and communication between everyone is necessary to keep it functioning but so far so good.

~What is Most Valuable/What is Least?

a) Skill sets are one of the most valuable commodity among bartering econs. Textiles, repair services, gardening, cooking, art pieces, jewelry making. All of these have great value within the market because they’re often unique and can be traded one to one. Someone who is very good at carpentry or repair work can barter their services to fix someone’s home for clothing, or for food items not provided or difficult to obtain fresh. In the Weeds, actual money, is useless unless being used one of the registered businesses and you can’t get anything without a spindle anywhere else.

~What do dwellings typically look like? What materials are usually used in their construction? Are there stylistic features common among structures?

a) Homes in the Havens are tall, towering skyscrapers and super sleek apartments. They’re hyper green, with aesthetically pleasing gardens cascading artfully over balconies. It’s full of shining white concrete and sleek metals, tasteful and appropriate flowers and trees. The Havens has all the money, or a lot of it and all the government. And all the control. It’s home of the Spindle, main offices of SpOre and has the largest space cargo hubs in North America. The next largest is in South America in Caracas Venezuela.

The Hub’s location in the Havens is relatively. Following the events of the L_1_Virus outbreak in the 2070s the old system was scratched and a new one was built in the Havens in the early 2080s.

The Havens is a poster child, set up to be photographed and looked at from afar. Not many have the clearance or status to enter the main part of the city except on certain holidays and events.

The Weeds, when it was known as the Garden had much the same infrastructure but overtime and through shitty government handling building in the Garden took on a life of its own until SpOre under the instruction of the Government and with the help of the Spindles to corral growth. (This was much longer and included but I lost all of it because tumblr if you’re interested in the really shitty government handlings and the fact that Canada as we know it doesn’t exist anymore -- neither does the US mind you, I can go into more detail in a separate post)

Materials are pretty simple and prefab within the Weeds and even objects are simple and come with AR enabled options so that people customize their homes based on their spindles not wht’s actually present.

~What is the typical wardrobe like? Colourful or dull? Fancy or functional? Warm or light?

 I am going full cyberpunk cliche with the clothing styles, sleek and form fitting with clean lines, or leather and lots of buckles. Think sci fi anime and blade runner had a really well dressed baby. Colours are generally dark greys but that’s to enable the smart coding for the spindles to read the styles. People can change their styles and their clothes on a whim and purchase sets electronically.

There are other ways clothing is produced, and see above with the economy, cloth, weaving, and other forms of textile manufacture are still carried out and done. Some is boutique and sells for ridiculous sums in the Havens. (I have yet to determine the giagantic question of where are the sheep, but this is humanity and I’m just going to say we’ve found a way, and you’re just as likely to see a goat wandering down the streets in the weeds as a cat.

[bewareofthorns]

jeepers! meet rowan ‘ro’ sharpe, tenant of room 3b, college student tentatively majoring in history and wholesome all-american boy learning to stand on his own.  this is legiterally the worst ™ intro, but it is also everything i applied with! 

·      ☆ ⤻ logan shroyer. meet ro sharpe. he is/are a 20 year old history student, who’s been residing in apartment #3b for a year. usually , you can catch him on the subway listening to a whiter shade of pale  by procol harum and their roommates insist that he reminds them of rumpled sheets, sunlight streaming through a half-opened window and tangled earbuds. the libra has been described as candid & guarded but since he’s known as the all-american, i guess we’ll just have to wait and see .

a brief intro

think basic white boy. now more basic. even more basic. if ur at fuccboi, ur going in the wrong direction. 

he is absolutely the kid in high school that you wanted to hate, but that you couldn’t. his parents raised him right and that frustrates others around him to no end.

he’s as american as apple pie and just as sweet. if you met him in his native environment, he’d probably be somewhere in between a state fair and a football game. picture like any movie where the underdog leads his team to state. that was him in senior year.

he had a mom and stepdad and two little siblings that he left behind in ohio. (and sometimes, though he hates to admit it because it sounds like something a coward would say, he wishes he had never really left them.)

the world is bigger than he thought it was. and there’s times when he’s in the apartment and people are walking by that he can’t help but be a little afraid.

on social media, if you scroll back in time, before the apartment, all his posts before got is pictures of these two little kids and like football cleats and like terrible shaky videos of performances he did with the awful band that he made with his friends. he never thought he was going to go to new york city for college. he never thought- that this would be his life.

the drama that goes on, the messiness of the rest of the people who live in the apartment—as much as he never expected it to be, this is a vibrance that sucks him in, that has a hold on him that he can’t really explain. there’s a joy to it, of course, an intenseness that he can’t deny. 

just a fish out of water here in the city. part of him wants to go back to when he just had one girlfriend for like four years and they were going to go to college together and get married and he was going to be an actuary or a tax auditor or something. part of him still believes that he will– 

but he also knows. he loves this life. he’ll never be able to go back. 

I”M LITERALLY CRYING I LVE HTIS BEAUTIFUL WHITE BOY. HE LIVES SUCH A GOOD & WHOLESOME LIFE. I BET HIS MOM WENT ON HIS FIRST DATE WITH HIM WHEN HE WAS 14 AND, WHEN HE WAS 7. HE WALKED AROUND THE NEIGHBORHOOD AND GAVE EVERYONE THEIR MAIL FROM THEIR MAILBOXES EVENTHO THAT’S A FELONY. HE JUST WAS A GOOD WHOLESOME KID.

.

More

1.       His mom and his bio dad never got married and, while his dad did his best to be around while he was really young, his job eventually took him away to nyc and both of them agreed it would be best if he didn’t look back.

2.       though he remembers missing his biological father terribly at first, he was young enough that it hardly mattered. within the next few years, his mother got married, ro was adopted by his stepfather, and he would get two new half-siblings. 

a.       by the end of the first year of the marriage, ro had already taken to calling his stepfather ‘dad’. after all, it was his stepfather who took him out to backyard and taught him to play catch. it was his stepfather who helped him with his math homework and bought him christmas gifts. it was his stepfather who was there. and to ro, that was all that mattered. 

3.       he never once thought his childhood was missing anything. he took bass guitar and swimming lessons; he played on the local baseball team and, then, after deciding it wasn’t for him, joined the football team. he had a good group of friends and even did fairly well in school.  

4.       it wasn’t until he got into high school that things started to fray at the edges. after pulling a prank at school and getting into trouble, his stepfather sat him down and asked if he were acting out bc he missed his real father. he hadn’t been– at least, he hadn’t thought he was, but, when the gate was opened, he admitted that he wanted to at least meet the man who he had so few memories of. 

5.       so he did. and it went okay. There were no hard feelings. They agreed to keep meeting up.

6.       ro was lucky, though. as he was forced to navigate through this complicated relationship with his father, he was able to escape the perils that usually plague teens in  high school. 

a.       he was smart enough to talk with the academically-inclined and creative enough to hang around the arts kids, but his true saving grace was his position on the football team. he was good at it— enough that by his junior year, he had gotten an offer to join the reserve team for his dream school. it was a good scholarship and it also allowed him to pursue the degree that he was interested in (econ and math). 

7.       but despite accepting the offer almost immediately— he never ended up actually enrolling. Because he had also secretly applied to a nyc college to spend more time with his bio dad who lived in the region. And when he got accepted, he just knew-

a.       i don’t think he understood what he was getting into. the college he is going to has technically a better reputation than the state school he had originally wanted, but he just wanted– to know his dad better. to have a real relationship with his dad before it was too late.

b.       it weighs heavy on his mind that he threw away the larger college scholarship, the chance to be with his friends, the football offer — all just to spend some time in nyc for the more frequent opportunity to he feels guilty, as if him just being here is some kind of betrayal to the family that raised him. 

8.       lastly, ro absolutely calls his mom and stepfather every week, but still finds himself struggling to hold a conversation with his father. They don’t meet up as often as he thought they would. School takes up too much time for him. And his father is always working. And though his father is the one paying for his rent and also a chunk of his tuition, he still longs for a better connection.

9.       he’s really just a small town boy from ohio and here, where it seems like everyone parties and engages in a rock star lifestyle, he’s incredibly out of his depth. he’s sweet and he’s young and he’s responsible. he’s not here to spiral out of control or be number one  he’s just here to learn what it means to be a student. And also… if he can, someone’s son. 

fun facts

       he skateboards. everywhere.

       he doesn’t drink coffee.

       he stopped drinking soda when he turned 17 for a dare and never picked it up again.

       he knows how to knit.

       he’s a hardcore romantic. his mom took two tries to get it right, but she got it right.

        Did he have a high school gf that lasted for almost the full four years? You betcha. Did they break up because he went to NYC? You got it. Is he heartbroken over it and trying to fill the void? Done and done.

       In the apartment, he’s definitely trying to be the voice of reason. That’s not to say he can’t get down with the best of them, but he’s also always trying to get things under control.

        Since he’s 20, that also means—he’s not very good at standing his ground.

WANTED CONNECTIONS are fckn everything. 

exes, crushes, fwb, mentors, enemies (petty or deep-rooted... but i dare u to hate him). my literal fave r weird shared communal space plots. 

someone who will buy him contraband since he’s underage !! he swears he’s responsible

someone who he gives life advice to (in all of his iDiot 20 yo boy brain glory)

someone who gives HIM life advice to counsel him through being an idiot 20 yo boy 

someone who he caught doing something outlawed in the building

smoking? parking your bike in behind the potted plants? look we all know ur growing something behind the succulents but i don’t want to know okay. 

I was sticking my head out the window and you were draining water onto the pavement. Dude I see you. My god. We all have sinks. 

our mail keeps getting switched up ?? look ??? idk ???

We do our laundry at the same time every week and there’s just NOT ENOUGH MACHINES and its super weird bc like. we  never talk elsewhere about it. but every week we show up with full baskets at the SAME TIME

I know you keep ur door unlocked and so like. we’re friends. you won’t mind if I just pop in to use ur dish soap. i like ran out. 

KEEP UR NOISE LEVEL DOWN U HEATHEN. IM STUDYING. are u singing? is that a cat’s yowl? are u… Look IF YOU DON’T i’ll put a hole thru ur door.

[tuwam]

comfort.

‘are you okay hanna?’ jamie asks, with snickers that she can’t keep in from across the table. “no.” and as she says it, hanna’s feels another itch at her skin, causing her head to fall promptly back on the desk.

[ the soulmate au where once you meet your soulmate, it’s physically uncomfortable to be apart from them for too long. ft. minna @rosaeau​ ]

rewind to a few months ago.

hanna didn’t need a damn tutor. she was a good student, no matter what her english professor said. she mentions that she has dreams of entering the new york fashion scene and her father jumps at the chance to flaunt his money.

“it’s a bad idea pop.” they’re at the kitchen table when he suggests the idea, his ridiculous money themed apron on while his mother makes sure he doesn’t burn another pancake that he tries to flip. hanna’s father is - a joke. to her and her mother. a joke that her mother can’t seem to get enough of and while he almost lands the pancake on her face both of them are laughing. hanna for a few seconds before she returns to her previous statement. “i don’t need a tutor.”

while he looks like he might cave, her mother is the one to grab the skillet handle and fix hanna with a look. her dad’s easy to persuade, her mother, not so much. for the life of her, hanna sits there and tries to figure out how the two of them can possibly match. her father, gambling addict, tycoon owner whose about as silly as they come when he steps out of his world with flashing lights. her mother, stubborn, hard-working and caring less about money unless it’s to keep her going, keep her free. her mother’s stubborn but her father’s persistent. 

she watches them wrestle for the skillet before her mother’s expertly flipping one. naturally, it’s the one thing she doesn’t get about soulmates. she’s heard so much about it, and is told she’s lucky to be able to see it up close. it’s unpredictable and apparently the talk of the world.

soulmates. not in the way people write them in stories, dreams them up when they talk about how they wish romance to be. actual soulmates, destined to be by something that humans can’t quite comprehend. because each story is different, all everyone knows is once you know you know. by something less cheesy than a spark in a kiss or a tug on the heart. something physical, almost biological.

hanna doesn’t know the details, she just knows her parents had that experience and now they’re never apart. it’s cute, but she’s trying to win a case here, so she’s boring holes into her father’s resolve.

‘you’re not paying attention in classes hanna.’ “noted. still don’t need a tutor.” ‘you don’t care about anything that’s not fashion hanna.’ “noted. but i don’t need a tutor.”

‘at least try it out seol.’ a tough blow. a low blow. hanna regards her father with a glare before she’s grabbing her things to head to her first class. 

hurray for econ.

‘he used your name?’ hanna’s only solace from these troubles are jamie. jamie who is greeting her outside of class with a chocolate mocha and hanna could kiss her. could, but she’s too busy sipping at the drink and relishing it all. the joy and wonders of a mocha on a hot day.  “he knows I won’t say no.” the decision to go by hanna came from the time spent with her mother, just a little joke about the flowers she’d put on her designs when she was younger. she’s far past the flower-dazzle stage but the name stuck.  ‘okay but, you don’t study for english, they’re not wrong.’ “whose side are you even on these days, the disrespect.” ‘just try it out, it might be good? if not i’ll learn it just to tutor you.’ “your lover boy might be mad but just to humor myself, i will.”

jamie makes a motion, maybe to fight the lover boy comment but hanna is too busy dashing up the library stairs.

the thing is, she knows she’s not paying enough attention to her english class. simply because when she’d expressed her interest in the new york market, she meant learning a bit for her visit there. learning the essentials and not the fundamentals of the language. of course her father is who he is, a renown businessman and if there was one thing he drove home it was that she should never half-ass anything. family drawings in elementary school - have hers at the top. golf carts races with her family - first place. if she wanted to be in fashion, she had to conquer. she had to explain to him why couture houses just - wasn’t a possibility in this day and age.

the rest was very much doable. her competitive streak comes from him no doubt. but, she wasn’t to blame if she just wasn’t that into her english class as she was her other classes. the business classes were a necessity and well the fashion classes were just that. long before she realized she was failing even vocabulary quizzes because of lack of studying, and they were so far into the grammar components she couldn’t catch up.

it was frustrating but she’d be damned if she let anyone else know that.

aside from jamie hanna had accumulated something of a reputation on their campus. other than the reputation that came with her father’s empire, she was simply known for being a socialite. being at parties but never interacting with people, just shining in diamonds she just had to bat her lashes to get. for that, hanna just liked to try new designs around the masses, she didn’t even enjoy the parties, but the image must be maintained for the goal ahead. really, most of her time is spent with jamie. when people sit and gossip to one another, whether about her or the newest soulmate phenomenon, she’s never a part of it.

only now she hears the giggling behind her when jamie finds a spot for them to set up shop. hanna’s econ books thrown around while jamie tosses her english book atop them all.

'apparently, sam’s friends. joon and ahyeon?’ hanna makes a hum that she’s listening, though her eyes show she’s contemplating opening this damned book. ‘they’re soulmates and he’s having a hard time stopping them from killing each other.’ “huh?” when she does look up jamie is engrossed in her phone, as usual, and hanna gets revenge by dropping her huge ethics book on top of her pile. jamie’s jump in her seat and scandalized look is just the reaction she’d expected. ‘he won’t say rather- he says he doesn’t know why. they’re antsier than usual.’ “makes you wonder if it’s all really a good thing? or if the match up is legit.”

‘well, it worked for your parents.’ 

another hum.

“i suppose.”

hanna just doesn’t enjoy the thought of having no control, can’t really fathom how her mother handled it. but it’s not something she needs to think about - and it’s joon and ahyeon’s problem not her own. she has english to pretend to study so that jamie will give her sketchbook back.

if there’s one thing hanna loves more than anything (and jamie) it’s being right.

‘it could’ve have been all bad.’ see it’s been a week and some days since her father committed to getting her tutors. she’s had to try a tutor each day and hanna’s damn near ready to rip her hair out.

it’s been, a wild few days. and jamie’s expression shows she’s enjoying the insufferable stories more than she should. if it weren’t for the vanilla bean that’s before her, hanna might actually forego the entire story. but she’d been right, this was a bad idea.

day one.

hanna’s on-time. tired from studying all night for her art history class, fingers patched from an accident with her sewing machine. granted, she wasn’t in the best mood from the beginning. she’s on-time though, her books and pencil case laid out neatly on the cafe table. a cafe table of all places.

he comes, and it’s a guy because he’s announcing his presence before he even sits down. there’s nothing really wrong with him, he’s a little loud, a few minutes late but hanna’s always a little too punctual so it’s understandable. what she remembers is that he dressed nice and she’s sure she has a business class with him.

'okay let’s get right to it shall we?’ he’s the asshat who talks too much because he wants everyone to know that he knows too much and wants too much. in short, greedy. ‘let’s test your knowledge of english first alright?’ his name is minhyun and hanna had never wanted a death note faster in her twenty two years of living.

because the test was the problem. not his perfectly combed up hair, or his perfect teeth, or the tailored suit he always fucking wears to class because he has to be that business major. hell his accent wasn’t even the problem. it was the test - with questions specifically tailored to her understanding of business and her father. as well as a reading comprehension that was simply a list of his achievements. the nerve.

“do you just want to cut a deal with my dad?” ‘what? no - what?’ his english was surprisingly good here. ‘however, if it were possible, could you slide him the resume?’ when her coffee arrived she was sure to pour it all over that damned exam and leave.

( jamie promptly laughed at this one because ‘hanna you didn’t’ and hanna took one more sip before saying ‘yes i did’. )

day two.

they meet in the student courtyard, hanna taking the time to attempt to sunbathe and lower her blood pressure. it as a nice day which meant crop tops and athletic leggings, seeing as she’d just come from a run. something to clear her mind before this english tutoring completely consumed her. hopefully the heat would do it first.

here’s the thing. hanna works out, has to work out if maybe one day she has to model her pieces for someone. technically she’s always modeling her pieces, plus her mother is a workout buff so she’s always at the gym. her figure is exceptional though it’s hidden behind her fashion.

so, she’s not confused when she feels eyes on her. they’re college students but apparently some of the male students are as shameless as ever. no one could be as shameless as minhyun so she’s ready to give a proper scolding, when she recognizes the face.

well not at first. but she should’ve.

“unless you plan on never having kids, i’d look away.” a cough and the male standing above her is tumbling apologies. ‘i’m your tutor, seolhyun-ssi.’ which is weird because few people call her by her full name. hanna is curling her legs under her before gesturing out for him because what. the. fuck?

the test was fine. the test was actually alright, aside from the outdated questions that she’s sure she’s seen somewhere before. no the test wasn’t the problem, the fact that they were outdoors wasn’t, and certainly not that he called her by her name. the problem was that he couldn’t keep his eyes off her while she took the test, or while she spoke. it’s one look, one particular look before hanna remembers.

“don’t you work for my father?” ( it’s at this point in the story that jamie yells out a ‘nooooo’ ) ‘ah, so you remember me?’ she remembers him, remembers his long-standing crush on her and him bothering her each time she went to visit one of the hotels. it was creepy. this was creepier. “uh-huh. two minutes before I call my father’s guards.” he was off like a light.

hanna was exasperated.

the next one, a girl her age who apparently was korean-american. a girl who spent half the time just swapping instagram feeds and asking for pictures and tours of hanna’s closet. it hit a limit when hanna caught her taking pictures of her designs. she’d almost broken her phone - instead she factory reset it. she’d accepted the praise her mother had given her and the high five jamie had given her when she heard.

the one after that - an older woman because yes that was the problem age. an older woman who aside from being entirely too punctual was going on and on about the history of english and it’s arrival into korea. then she proceeded to discuss why english was important and should be studied before she addressed that hanna was not studying english and was studying fashion and why that was bad. yeah, when that tirade started, hanna just up and left.

It doesn’t help that the one for the next day had ended up rescheduling and hanna – didn’t have it in her to accept nor decline, she just didn’t have the energy to deal with another joke.

she was tired of playing tutor roulette.

‘just drop english.’ Is jamie’s final answer after hanna’s given her the full rundown of her week, head lowered until her forehead’s almost touching the top of her drink. “my father wouldn’t let me dare.” It’s her ego too, her ego that won’t let her just give up on it and while Jamie knows, she’d rather hanna sit in her own stubbornness than tell her about it. she does however, offer a comforting hand to ruffle hanna’s hair like she always does giving hanna time to jolt up from her miserable position and fix her hair with a pout.

‘try this last one out, if they’re that bad than I promise I’ll save you from your misery and tutor you myself.’ “deal.”

they meet in the library. jamie’s been a dear and promised hanna another refill of the vanilla bean she’d gratefully placed on the table, as long as she clears this session. clear meaning she doesn’t leave early though hanna is looking at the clock for the minute reason she needs to book it out. jamie is sitting a table away and watching intently and hanna, hanna is sitting rather miserably, chin on the table, eyes on her watch, and fingers playing with the drink that’s currently keeping her alive.

please be late please be late please be late.

‘kim seolhyun?’ she looks up, dreading the sense of déjà vu that’s about to come over her because what. she notices a few things, he’s very tall, very on-time, and very unlike the image she’s been ready to torment her. he’s in a button-up and he’s already sitting across from her as he starts to pull things out his bag. ‘I’m bang minsoo your tutor.’ he’s tall, tall to the point where if she were standing she’d still have to view him from this angle. well she is watching him from a weird angle and he’s still pulling things out his bag. It’s a normal bag too, his clothes, normal too. he’s – normal. aside from exceptionally soft looking hair but who cares about that.

“you’re on time.” ‘I am.’ “you’re dressed normal.” ‘as are most college students.’ it’s then that she realizes he’s all about finished taking out all of his things, now scattered neatly across the table and she’s aware of the things she doesn’t have spread out. ‘now are you ready?’ “for what?”

‘I’ve reviewed your class syllabus and I’m planning on at least getting you prepared for your coming quiz, then we can start with fundamentals and such.’ he’s flipping through papers, books and hanna’s suddenly sitting a lot straighter than before. she also doesn’t take her eyes off how concentrated he seems to be. concentrated but – calm. It’s strange. ‘seolhyun-ssi?’ “huh?” she takes her eyes off Jamie, who’s busy throwing signals from behind his ear. questions probably but hanna can’t quite make them out because her tutor – minsoo is looking dead at her. ‘are you ready to begin?’ he doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that she has no paper as he’s already slid his materials over to her. he’s just waiting. “hanna.” ‘pardon?’ “hanna, I go by hanna.” ‘alright then hanna, lets begin.’ “yeah sure.”

‘that just about does it. review these concepts tonight and your oral exam should go fine. review some right after I leave though.’ “you’re leaving?” hanna’s almost embarrassed at the words, because they come out so easily and she’s still looking at the words he’s underlining when she says it. ‘your session’s up, and - I do have class.’ she’s even more embarrassed to say she’s having a good time because god her father won’t let her live it down. “okay, thank you. next week we’re meeting here right?” ‘ideally it would depend on if you pass tomorrow but yes here is fine.’

she understood concepts that she’d normally drown her teacher out. minsoo was patient and well he wasn’t speaking on overwhelming amount of english so she could follow. It’s probably why she’d been able to follow along, and probably why she didn’t notice the time pass, she does notice minsoo getting up – probably because it’s so abrupt and she’s sorting through her thoughts, but it makes her shift in her seat. even more so when jamie bounds over and fixes her with a stare – one she can’t quite read. hanna shifts even more, a strange shudder taking over as she immediately grabs for her drink.

‘okay so?’ “well – I didn’t throw my drink on him.” ‘I noticed.’

“okay he wasn’t too bad, I still want my drink.” ‘did you mean he wasn’t bad looking?’ “absolutely not, lead me to overpriced coffee!”

and if hanna sticks closer to Jamie during the walk there, neither of them complain.

of course she has to tell her father to stop looking for another tutor. It’s at the end of the next day, after studying thoroughly and doing not so bad on her oral exam the morning after their tutor session. he’s in the study, normally where he doesn’t like being bothered, but there’s her mom, lounging on the chair while he flits back and forth between bank books and the laptop. how they spend so much time together is beyond her. she pops in and eyes are on her.

“hey, just wanted to say I’ll be keeping this tutor.” ‘he’s cute isn’t he?’ is the first thing her mother says and hanna quite literally falls from where she’d been planning to stick her head in and right out. “shameless.” ‘didn’t hear a no.’

‘that’s great dear, it was getting hard to not do a full screening on the next one and scare them away.’ “yeah yeah thanks.” hanna’s composing herself, rubbing at her shoulders to relieve her goosebumps. her mother catches this immediately and looks up from her book, eyes calculating. ‘are you cold hun?’ her father looks up, more concern in his eyes than anything. the drama queen. “yeah, do you guys have the air on?” they share a look – the strange telepathy that they always do. ‘no – but darling you’re in a long-sleeved shirt.’ “I could be getting sick. I’ll take something.”

as it turns out, she’s not getting sick. that was evident after the hoard of medication she’d taken and the lack of actual flu or cold symptoms. couldn’t be allergies as hanna has none, and there’s no bug going around school.

she just feels.

antsy.

she keeps shivering whether she’s in her clothes or not, itching and shaking even under cold water.

the morning after the conversation with her parents she’d bundled up fiercely the next day, making sure she would sweat out whatever cold would hit her. when it seemed like the fabric of her clothes was just making things worse, she opted for shorter sleeves and lighter, softer clothing. something to take away the itch that’s making her body shake.

‘maybe you’re allergic to something.’ Is jamie’s rationing. “my allergies would’ve been shown up.” is hanna’s answer.

she considers her diet, though she’s relatively a healthy person, she makes a log of what she could’ve eaten to cause it. but again, she has no food allergies either, she’s relatively healthy and it doesn’t feel like a food issue. even if her stomach does start to twist and turn now and then, it’s not the sick feeling from eating something bad – and hanna would know she’s had food poisoning.

she gets chills, has goosebumps she can’t really see. Her stomach twists no matter how much ginger tea she drinks and she’s at the point of wanting to jump out her own skin. It’s led to her being quite irritable too. rolling her eyes when her teacher asks her a question she knows hanna doesn’t know the answer to, snapping at someone near her parking space on her way to class.

‘could be your period babe.’ “my period was two weeks ago.”

and it’s not that either. It’s not the emotion that double over before her period, it’s not the stabs in her stomach that start coming early, or the cravings she’ll likely have. It’s none of that and this is the first time hanna’s wished that it was, at least then she would know what to do. because right now she wants to shed her own skin, feels like she’s growing in and out of it at the same time. feels like she’s itching something but never quite scratching it, like she needs something soothing but the burn isn’t painful it’s just – uncomfortable.

“do I need to see a doctor?” it’s a week into this when she mentions it to her parents. a week of her arriving irritable to school, practically clinging to jamie and saying nothing but groaning each time she feels a pull she doesn’t understand. like her skin was rubber and something was trying to call her back, pulling her thin but not ripping just – stretching. hanna was in agony and her mother now sat on the edge of the couch, running her hand through her hair while her father observed her. she’d told them her symptoms but she’s all but realized how crazy she must sound. ‘describe it again seol.’ hanna groans into the pillow but her mother’s touch is – distracting, helps her focus. “feels like I’m being tugged in several directions, everything is subtle but at the same time it’s overwhelming. It’s like if someone pressed needles against you but just the tip so you didn’t feel the pain. It’s terrible.” If anything, she would get bonus points in creative writing for her descriptions. If her teacher could see her now. Hanna wishes no one could see her, wishes she could all but melt into the couch. ‘do you know when it started?’ “I don’t know last week sometime?”

all these questions and all hanna wants to do is bury further away from it all. 

‘we’ll get you to a doctor this afternoon, are you still going to class?’ she wants to say no, wants to stay right where she is until later this afternoon, instead she drags herself up and to her room. If she were more attentive, she might’ve noticed the look her parents share as she heads to get ready.

jamie is ready with a chamomile tea, a hint of ginger and a hug for Hanna when she walks out of her class. she makes no comment on how hanna left early and just smothers her in a hug, a hug that hanna can’t be bothered to wiggle out of. she focuses on the fact that it’s jamie and not that her body feels like it wants to be somewhere else but can’t figure itself out. instead they head to the library, jamie sending worried glances each time hanna shakes her shoulders or holds her head.

“please not headaches.” she doesn’t have time to think because as the headache grows there’s a figure before them both. it’s of course her tutor, though it was almost hard to tell because of the mask he’s sporting. ‘sorry, I’m a bit late.’ truthfully hanna hadn’t noticed. she’s more concerned at how he sounds as bad as she feels. ‘ready to start?’ “are you feeling okay?” is the first thing hanna asks, jamie having left her side so they can start. ‘nothing too bad, wore a mask in case it’s contagious but I don’t think so.’ “i’d take anything over whatever is hitting me right now.” she swears she gets a smile at the comment, but they’re launching into problems right away.

for the past week, the discomfort that hanna’s felt has been relentless. it started in small bursts but began to last the entire day, hence why she’d begged her parents to see a doctor today. as minsoo starts to finish reading her homework for the week, she’s suddenly aware that she’s feeling better. much better. his mask is off too. she’s grateful because truthfully, hanna didn’t think she could get through this session with that same pain that’s been plaguing her. she’s also relieved that he seems to be feeling better. she has half a mind to text her parents that all are good but he’s getting up, things packed already and her lips move with an urgency new to her.

“hey, can I get your number, in case I feel under the weather again and actually can’t show up?” minsoo’s giving it though, without question or complaint and hanna’s waving the phone as she waves him off. ‘you look like you’re feeling better.’ “thank god, or he might’ve asked for different pupil.” ‘mmmmm, I doubt that.’

hanna shrugs though, making sure to send a quick message to him.

to: 💥 minsoo [ hanna! ✌�� ] from: 💥 minsoo [ 👌 ]

when she arrives home, her mother is questioning her instantly.

“i just feel better? not sure, but my tutor session went well!” just to bring the mood up because she can see her parents are visibly concerned. ‘but hanna, you were in pretty bad shape.’ “maybe I just needed to flush out a bad bug, I feel fine!”

hanna’s in the same predicament, though it feels worse than before. the symptoms double over within half the time from before and she’s cuddled under her covers trying every possible position to ease the discomfort.

‘hanna I’m really worried.’ jamie’s voice rings on the other end of the line. “don’t worry, I really think it needs to run it’s course.” whatever it is.

whe doesn’t miss tutoring this week, though she can tell from minsoo’s hair, a little shaggy on the edges, that he’s dealing with his own things too. things that seem to disappear during their session, a reason why she makes it a goal to not miss them, no matter how bad she feels. It’s not exactly pain anyway, it’s just discomfort.

body-shaking discomfort.

she continues her routine. suffering for a week but managing to make her tutoring sessions just because she can. and they always make her feel better in that moment, a reason why she thinks it might just be stress.

two more weeks pass and hanna’s sure it’s not just a bad bug. because the intervals are shorter where she feels discomfort. It goes from a few days to one day to a few hours. it gets bad that she’s in her bed staring at her phone.

to: 💥 minsoo [ hey, it’s hanna! I might not make our session tomorrow, I’m really not feeling well. 😷😷😷😷 ] from:💥 minsoo [ I hope I didn’t give you what I caught, it’s not exactly fun ] to: 💥 minsoo [ don’t think what I have is contagious ] from:💥 minsoo [ how so? ]

and hanna hadn’t planned on discussing this, talking past her update but, she indulges.

to: 💥 minsoo [ feels like my insides being stretched ] from: 💥 minsoo [ ouch, in every direction and nowhere at all ] to: 💥 minsoo [ YES ] from: 💥 minsoo [ sorry I might’ve given it to you ] to: 💥 minsoo [ hm, I likely gave it to you ] from: 💥 minsoo [ either way, I hope you feel better ] to: 💥 minsoo [ if you find any remedies tell me!!!!! ] from: 💥  [ sure thing. ]

and for good measure.

to: 💥 minsoo [ goodnight! ]

she feels worse after missing their session. much worse. to the point where she’s pacing around her room, stepping in place, doing anything to try and ease her body and it’s confusion. it’s restless and it’s making hanna’s head spin. when her parents ask she just says she doesn’t know. when she asks the doctors they just say they don’t know.

because yeah that gives her hope.

“seriously I have no idea what it is.” hanna’s panting now, having resorted to running to let off some steam. she’s on the phone with minsoo, who despite his own afflictions has been a good comfort for her during it all. ‘me neither, needless to say, I keep worrying my sister.’ “my parents are surprisingly calm, though I know they’re worried.” they haven’t kept off her case, in a good way though. They check up on her and give her food without her needing to ask, she’s just been unable to feel reprieve from anything really. minsoo had laughed when she told him how her father hovered by the door ready to get her anything. “I’ll have fun trying to explain this sick note to my professors.” not that she minds, maybe she needed the break. running like this, and watching minsoo’s face change as he talks, as she cools down and listens, isn’t too bad.

‘hanna.’ “hm?” ‘you’ve been walking a while where are you?’ “uhm, don’t know. Why?” ‘it looks familiar…’ for a second it looks like he’s leaning into the screen and then there’s a flurry of movement, then laughter. ‘you’re nearing my neighborhood, how’d you manage that?’ “who knows. didn’t realize I was walking that far.” ‘I’ll come down.’ before she can say that he doesn’t have to, or that he’s not feeling well, she sees his figure approaching from the end of the street. funny enough, he looks like he ran. “you didn’t run here did you….” ‘I needed the exercise. I feel better already.’ and though he’s joking, catching his breath hanna’s been feeling immensely better since a little after her run. enough that she can smile fully at him, even laugh at his words.

he walks with her for the rest of her cool down. a cool down that she feels like she doesn’t even need because everything’s settled right now. It could be, and hanna considers it, the calm of the night, maybe she needed a good run. maybe she needed a change in environment, in pace. whatever it is, it’s working. has her joking with minsoo and feeling like herself, feeling that she’s missed their sessions all too much.

‘is that true?’ she doesn’t realize she’s spoken the words until she meets minsoo’s eyes on her. and she’s suddenly very aware of how close they’re walking together. hanna doesn’t move though, instead she just laughs and averts her eyes. “I miss them, they were the highlight of my week.” which isn’t a lie, even if she tries to put sarcasm in her tone. really, english tutoring as the highlight of her week? it was true whether she denied it or not. she suddenly didn’t mind if he knew or not. ‘it’s definitely been the best part of my few weeks.’

they walk a bit more, night closes in a bit more and they lose track of time. to where her father’s messaging her and hanna almost dreads having to go back, having to end the peace. but she’s feeling better so there’s a plus.

“I have to head home before my father sends a search party.” and – as if he knows. as if her eyes reveal everything without knowing, minsoo’s speaking up as she turns. ‘I’ll walk you.’ she doesn’t object. not when he sticks just as close, not when they pass the gates to her compound and he’s at the door, past the door and they’re laughing in the study.

‘you’re feeling better.’ Is what her mother says first. they’re both at the door, her father’s arm wrapped snug around his mother’s waist, his eyes on minsoo. “hey, sorry i’m late. i ran into minsoo? guess we both just needed a run.” ‘both? minsoo I wasn’t aware you weren’t feeling well either.’ ‘I’m fine ma’am, i was worried I’d given whatever I had to hanna but I’m glad that’s not the case.’ ‘i’m glad too. hanna do try to answer your phone more often, your father gets restless.’ “please, he’d be up the roof if it was you.” to which hanna’s father, the joke of her life, quite literally picks her mother up bridal style as he announces his love. hanna notices minsoo’s confusion and realizes she’s never told him, though she’s never in a position to tell anyone. “my parents are a soulmate match. for them they can’t spend too much time apart of they get restless, it’s wild. you’d think my mother was going through menopause.” ‘hanna!’ though her mother’s words have no bite while she’s literally being hugged tight by her husband, even after he’s set her back on her feet. ‘is it painful?’ are minsoo’s first words. unsurprising because most people have tons of questions when they hear about it. minsoo never seemed the curious type though, but hanna leans back and watches as her parents perk up at the opportunity to talk about their love.

‘at first it was unbearable? because we didn’t know what was going on or how to tell the cause. with ours it’s hard to tell but overtime the pull quite literally leads you to them because you’re in agony.’ ‘the pull?’ minsoo looks thoroughly interested and hanna – for whatever, maybe the aftereffects of this nonexistent flu, finds it cute. ‘hard to describe, the body literally cannot stand the distance for too long. after a while it becomes easier to withstand distance, the discomfort is there but not as strong the more time we spend together afterwards, and the more we deal with it. hanna’s father is just a baby. Hanna takes after him I suppose, she’s been moping about this house you’d think she was having period pains.’ “mom!” minsoo, the traitor, finds it his job to laugh and hanna quite literally thinks about knocking him out the couch. Until he smiles her way saying stupid things like: ‘glad you’re feeling better now.’

hanna’s floored because she’s got an urge in that moment. and it makes her want to shove everyone away, and yet, pull one person close.

abort mission.

she’s shooing everyone out, minsoo particularly.

‘he can’t go home by himself this late.’ “HUH?” the one time her father wants to be lenient about a boy.

the one time.

‘it’s fine I can call a taxi.’ ‘nonsense, we have a guest room down here.’

after much preparation hanna’s closing the door after bidding him a good night and a small apology. she sees her parents from atop the stairs and marches past them and their smug grins to her room.

‘he’s what?’ “downstairs in the guest room.” ‘wow, third base already.’ “like you haven’t slept over at sam’s.” ‘touche.’

just then hanna’s phone vibrates and she’s looking at the screen and nearly dropping her phone.

from: 💥 minsoo

“he’s texting me, jamie. jamie minsoo’s texting me why’s he texting me he’s downstairs what’s going on?” ‘well I suppose we won’t know the answer to that unless you read it and text back now would we?’

touche.

from: 💥 minsoo [ thanks for letting me spend the night. forgot to say so earlier. ]

“why’s he thanking me, he should thank my parents.” ‘idiot – does he have your parents on speed dial, no he has your cute ass.’

to: 💥 minsoo [ it’s no problem! I hadn’t realized how late it was, hope you don’t mind. ] to: 💥 minsoo [ hope you’re not secretly a thief either. sorry about my lovey-dovey high school parents ]

From: 💥 minsoo [ don’t mind at all. It was nice of them. and they’re nice too, obviously very in love. i’ve seen soulmate pairs before but they’re – refreshing. ]

‘oho, soulmate talk.’ “I’m gonna hang up.” ‘fine, hang up and talk to your loverboy.’

hanna chokes.

to: 💥 minsoo [ are they? I thought they’d be a bit much. you never seemed like you’d be interested in that. from: 💥 minsoo [ soulmate lore and stuff? you never asked. ] to: 💥 minsoo [ i’m sorry among all the agony and english suffering I forgot to ask about soulmate lore with you. ] from: 💥 minsoo [ what do you think of it then? ]

In that moment, hanna has to take a break because a headache’s coming. She almost groans at the feeling and jamie picks up immediately.

‘I’m going to assume he didn’t say anything bad, you okay?’ “yeah I might turn in, not feeling good again.” ‘okay, call me if you need anything alright?’ “okay bye bye.” sealed with extra loud lip smacks and kiss noises because of course.

from: 💥 minsoo [ you okay? ] to: 💥 minsoo [ yeah, headache. maybe I’ve been up too long. ] from: 💥 minsoo [ not good, you should take a nap ] to: 💥 minsoo [ but! soulmate! lore! ] from: 💥 minsoo [ someone’s excited. ] to: 💥 minsoo [ I can talk all night about it, since I have first hand encounters ] from: 💥 minsoo [ I’ll be up all night, can’t seem to sleep ] to: 💥 minsoo [ I’ll be down in five ]

and for some reason he doesn’t protest. so hanna wraps herself in her blanket and slinks her way downstairs to the guest room, praying to the gods that her parents don’t wake up. or even if they do, they don’t ask.

they talk all night. hanna’s headache that was calling her to bed nowhere to be found. minsoo’s restlessness lulled into alertness and attention he gives her the entire night, both splayed over the living room couch. he tells her about his doubts and beliefs in the soulmate theory, his experiences both good and bad. he tells about couples he’s seen fail and couples he’s seen prosper, talks about how hopeful hanna’s parents can make people. hanna talks about her fears with it, her reservations and also her fascination when she looks at her parents. they talk and they talk until they can’t fight sleep and it’s the easiest sleep they’ve had in weeks, though neither admit. they just fall into one another.

that’s how hanna wakes up. with her head between her arms, placed firmly on the edge of the couch and minsoo’s chest directly in front of her. she doesn’t move though, relishing in the best sleep she’s had in weeks. in fact, it’s the sound coming from the kitchen that wakes her. it’s a glimpse of her father peeking over the couch and her making eye contact that has her shrieking and bounding for her room.

when she’s showered and changed and sent jamie a promise text to tell her everything, she joins her family. minsoo is up and looking so well-rested that he hasn’t quite fixed his hair yet. it’s cute ad insufferable, hanna wants to crawl back upstairs. but she quite literally feels her headache disappear when he waves a good morning and she waves back, turning to glare at her parents before they can say anything. of course, her mother isn’t phased.

‘you both slept well.’ “good morning and good bye mother.” ‘I made breakfast.’ “to go, I have class and minsoo has to get home.” ‘I’ll take---’ “I’ll drive him thank you father.”

hanna’s grabbing the keys, the kimbap and literally rushing minsoo out the door before her parents can trap them any further.

easily, thankfully, they fall into conversation as if they hadn’t fallen asleep earlier. hanna offers to drive minsoo to campus and the top-down on her car makes his hair more of a statement when they arrive. so much so that she’s laughing and he’s puzzled.

‘you’ve been laughing for fifteen minutes, earlier I was worried we’d crash.’ “yikes, your faith in my driving skills. here hold on.” without prompt, without warning really, hanna’s leaning over to fix the strands of hair that have gone wild. not like she couldn’t just tell him because now he’s this close and hanna thinks she can’t breathe but this is the easiest it’s been to breathe in weeks. and that’s scary. terrifying.

‘hanna!’ thank god for jamie. because hanna, jumps back and is hopping out the car to greet her friend. thank god for jamie but oh god jamie, jamie doesn’t spare one single glance moving from hanna to minsoo and her eyebrows doing that thing that makes hanna want to run. ‘thanks for the ride.’ Is all minsoo says, a smile on his face after he bows to jamie and waves himself off. hanna’s got about two seconds of leeway and she’s considering running, instead she calls after minsoo, practically bounds after him. “can I walk with you, I barely know your classes.” she half expects him to deny her, instead he’s nodding. and hanna for now will say it’s just to avoid getting grilled.

except that it becomes a routine. and hanna hadn’t planned that. hadn’t planned on getting used to the feeling of walking with minsoo to classes and him eventually walking her to hers. after one morning where he doesn’t and she does so bad on her english exam he’s waiting outside with vanilla bean and she’s forgetting all about it.

seriously what kind of warlock is he, hanna’s been trying to figure it out. she’s so caught off-guard that jamie’s managed to pull her out her daze with a fry to her face.

‘maybe you just like him.’ “pardon.” ‘you literally suffer when he’s not around, you like him.’ hanna takes a careful sip of her drink, letting jamie mull over her words. when she doesn’t, hanna swallow. “nah.”

jamie groans.

she does enjoy the company he brings though. the feeling of him walking beside her to class, to tutoring, even home that’s become more routine. it’s always the leaving part that hanna can’t quite get over, always makes her rub her hands together as if she’s collecting static, settling herself. she thinks nothing of it though, glad to be free of whatever plagued her in the earlier months.

except that the bug comes back.

at the worst of times in her opinion. it’s midterm season and while she’s enjoyed the help he’s given her, thoroughly enjoyed his presence around her, how they’ve started grabbing coffee together and even eating out when tutoring lasts too late, they need to study. hanna doesn’t want to disrupt minsoo’s study schedule and respects the request to take their tutoring out of midterm week. that also means, he’s busy studying that he’s not around to walk her to classes, and it’s not like hanna’s been dependent on it, that’ silly. but she feels it, feels it more apparent than she thought she would from the week before midterms start, into the beginning of the exam week.

‘maybe it’s because you guys just spend so much time together.’ Is jamie’s answer. Though hanna can tell jamie’s beginning to worry, about a lot really. hanna doesn’t get attachments like this, and the fact that it’s becoming so apparent and so troublesome that it’s affecting her environment. jamie’s worried but doesn’t want her worry to affect hanna. hanna appreciate it, so she wants to get to the bottom of this.

‘you could just miss him.’ is the solution her mother offers, still perched in the couch in the study, a book on soulmates in her hand. it’s plausible, even if it’s only been a few days since she’d seen him, it’s very plausible. hanna takes a look at the book in her mother’s hand and ignores how her stomach churns at the title. ignores what that might mean for her.

because to hanna that was dependence bordering on insanity. for her, for minsoo, whom she barely knew. sure she knew the little things, like his favorite color nowadays, how simple he liked his wardrobe, how tall she’d have to stand on the top of her toes to reach his height. how he likes his coffee and which classes he dreads and why, his little ticks when he doesn’t understand things and just how endearing it is that he can not understand things. the look on his face or the color on his face when she points out that she thinks it is endearing. she knows these little things, has saved them for the moments when she’s stuck in a long day and she knows they can still walk home together.

she knows that but it’s not enough to need. it shouldn’t be.

but hanna counts all that she knows, all she’s beginning to adore and she’s getting frightened.

scared as she is, she doesn’t get to hold it in for long. it’s the middle of midterm week and she’s sure she’s going to fail her english midterm tomorrow because she can’t fucking focus. for the life of her, her body itches and the covers aren’t helping but she’s wrapped in them anyway. she doesn’t want to call anyone, ask anyone, she just wants the feeling gone.

as if on cue her phone vibrates.

from: 💥minsoo [ you doing okay? ] to: 💥minsoo [ guess ] from: 💥minsoo [ exam stress? ] to: 💥minsoo [ nope, worse ] from: 💥minsoo [ penny for your thoughts ] to: 💥minsoo [ I’ll give you a million if you come by ] from: 💥minsoo [ on my way ]

and hanna doesn’t wait. she’s downstairs and meeting him outside the door.

they walk and they walk and they walk until they come across a playground. hanna on the swings and minsoo sitting quite literally in front of where she stops.

‘any reason you chose swings?’ “any reason you’re sitting there?”

touche.

she steps back, as far back as she can before the swing is pressed into her back and minsoo is a few feet in front of her. and she stays there, stays there and watches him. he sits absently, fingers idle in the woodchips, night just moving around him. around his shoulders, around his hands, his silhouette.

hanna looks for strings first.

she feels the first tug but sees none. it’s not like the swing is pressing into her back, it’s the opposite. something pulling. with the tug comes the itch, the shudder. and it’s not the cold. she sees no strings though, nothing buzzing around minsoo. but she sees him shudder, sees him look up instantly in her direction.

when their eyes meet hanna allows herself to sit and walk forward until her feet kick lightly against his own.

she moves back again, as far back as the swing will let her. and waits. without a word, waiting for something in the moonlight around him to shift. like how tides just follow the pull of the moon, she waits for it. then her skin starts to crawl and his eyes haven’t left hers, so she sits and moves forward again. this time his hand is on the swing when her feet kick at his. stopping, holding.

‘you’re a glutton for punishment.’ “I was testing my theory.” ‘which is?’

hanna bites at her lip. even the sting she feels couldn’t quite compare to the feeling, the calm that settles over her each time she swings back over to him.

“you know how – you can only go so far on the swing, until you’re yanked back.” ‘i’m aware.’ “that’s what it’s like with you. like pulling tight of a band until it’s released back.” ‘and it’s like it was never pulled in the first place.’ “right-!! you know?” ‘well since it’s a soulmate thing, the other person feels the same you know.’

hanna’s suddenly very shy and very grateful for how dark it is.

“so do you – how do you feel?” ‘how do you feel?’ “scared as hell. excited. better than I felt earlier.” ‘I’m about the same. not as scared, curious. willing.’

the last one has hanna’s head snapping up, minsoo who’d been looking elsewhere, maybe for a pull of the tides too, fixes his eyes back on her.

“willing to – what?” ‘well, I’m here.’ “you’re helpful.”

but hanna’s smiling as she says it. smiling and playing with the chips below her feet.

‘hey, fate picked me.’ “well - i’d pick you.”

oh boy is she glad it’s dark as hell outside.

“how long did you know, I can’t believe you two knew.” ‘i can’t believe you took so long to figure it out.’

hanna is, staring quite scandalized at her parents, while minsoo sits not bothered in the slightest, at the kitchen counter. they’d talked, but upon deciding that hanna does need to sleep to attempt to pass her exam, that she head home. minsoo of course had walked her, her parents had of course been up when they arrived.

‘admittedly your mother was in denial so you take after her.’ if it weren’t for the skillet she was focusing on, hanna was sure her father would have a spoon shaped mark on his face. “i wasn’t in denial.” minsoo makes something that sounds like a snort and hanna is betrayed. ‘jamie even asked me outside your class if i’d give you time to figure it out.’ “wow is this why sam’s friends were ready to kill each other, how long have you known.” ‘since the first night your parents let me stay here.’ “i am surrounded by traitors.” ‘i’m wondering if he should still tutor you.’

if she weren’t starving, hanna would’ve gone right to bed. but minsoo took the blanket and is offering a more comfortable spot curled up beside him. and pancakes. comfort and pancakes and minsoo seem like the better option. and when hanna’s close to falling asleep, head on his shoulder and stomach full, she thinks it might be the forever option.

fast forward to present day.

‘are you okay hanna?’ jamie asks, with snickers that she can’t keep in from across the table. “no.” and as she says it, hanna’s feels another itch at her skin, causing her head to fall promptly back on the desk. 

“a vacation with his sister, why.” ‘yes, the nerve of your boyfriend, spending time with his family.’ “he said he’d be back today.” ‘yes, he said sometime this afternoon, it’s one.’

hanna is close to drowning herself in this damn vanilla bean when she hears a chime, and already feels the ache start to subside. already feels a smile curling, though she’s a bit peeved.

“i’m the glutton for punishment.” ‘i missed you too.’ and she’s pouting, even when he hands her a souvenir, up until the kiss pressed to the top of her head. up until all of the ache disappears and she’s engulfed in arms for the remainder of their time at the cafe. engulfed in the very feeling that makes her feel like, the wait doesn’t hold a candle to the reward. and it never will.

[jungflowers]

ocean waves // f o u r (taekook au)

masterlist << || >>

genre: College! AU/ light angst

pairing: taekook/vkook

word count: 2,268

read it on AO3 here!

summary:  Taekook AU in which Taehyung, an aspiring writer and professional cynic, learns from the mysterious stranger outside his cafe window that life is more than letters on a page

A/N: trying to run a fan account off of a side blog is officially the hardest thing I’ve done oof. Thanks for reading and don’t be afraid to leave any advice or comments! My message box is always open

“So I woke up soaking wet and in shock all because of that petty little demon,” Jimin ranted to Taehyung as he swiftly worked around the counter during his morning shift. “Do you know how terrifying it is to feel ice down your back first thing in the morning?”

“No, not really. Hopefully I never will,” Tae responded, amused at the whiny tone the barista’s voice had taken on. Jimin had been the victim of a revenge prank from his roomate, which had put a bit of a damper

Taehyung sat at the table closest to the store counter on a cloudy Thursday morning, enjoying the company of his new friend as he frantically attempted to finish the homework he had procrastinated. Ever since meeting the week before, the two had comfortably slipped into the habit of hanging out every morning at the coffee shop before walking to their Econ class. Taehyung liked Jimin despite the fact that he still barely knew him. He talked a lot, sure, but he never had a dull thing to say and never minded that Taehyung didn't speak as much as he did. In the few short days that they had known each other, Taehyung had learned a lot about the giggly mocha haired barista. He was from Busan, had a younger brother that looked like a carbon copy of him, left home and moved to Seoul when he was 16 to go to a performing arts school, and was now majoring in dance. Despite being a dancer for almost 10 years, he was one of the most clumsy people Taehyung had ever met. He tripped over his own feet on an hourly basis, like he still wasn't used to having legs. "It's because you made me laugh," he would whine, giggling infectiously. "I can't see when I laugh." He told him about his roomate, who he had met his sophomore year through a sketchy app for college students too broke to afford their own house. He played pranks on him regularly just to make sure that he wasn't a serial killer. He may have been the complete opposite of him- an extroverted, energetic manifestation of caffeine itself- but Taehyung had to admit that spending mornings with Jimin felt way better than spending them alone.

“I mean, sure, I hid his towel. And sure, we had guests over. But in my defense, it was in the laundry. I was doing him a favor. It just happened to be at a particularly inconvenient time. But tell me, what do I gain from a bucket of ice water put on my pillow and tied to my arm when he knows damn well I move around in my sleep?”

“The man doesn’t play games,” Tae sipped his tea, putting in a weak effort at editing his latest creative writing assignment.

“Hi, what can I get you?” Jimin’s demeanor took a 180° turn as he attended to the latest customer.

“Hey, can I have a caramel machiatto?” An eerily familiar voice ordered. Taehyung turned his attention toward the counter and immediately, his breath caught. As he turned around, the doe eyed stranger’s face lit up with recognition.

“Hey,” he smiled, walking a few steps closer.

“Camera boy,” Taehyung nodded, an awkward attempt to play it cool.

“How’s it going?”

“It’s going,” he sighed. “You?”

“Same here,” Taehyung smiled nervously in response.

The boy nodded, the short conversation seeming to end on that note until he piped up once more. “I never did get your name, did I?”

“N-no, you didn’t,” he choked out, caught off guard. “It’s Taehyung.”

“Jungkook,” he held out his hand. Taehyung shook it cautiously, trying to ignore the sparks that flew through him the instant his fingers made contact with the no-longer-stranger’s surprisingly soft skin.

“I’ll see you around, I hope?”

All Taehyung could do was smile enthusiastically in agreement, his voice rendered useless.

“Oh, and check the city magazine this week.” He grinned. “You might find something you’ll like.” He watched as the boy left, following the same white shirt and ripped jeans until he was no more than a mere blur in the distance.

“Oh my god,” Jimin’s eyes were wide in unexplained surprise, his mouth pulled into a larger, more blinding grin than usual.

“What? Did something happen?”

“It’s you,” he laughed heartily. “You have a crush, don’t you?”

“On who?” He played dumb, putting on his best, most confused face.

“On who?” Jimin mocked. “Camera boy? You act all standoffish and tough all the time, but you like him enough to give him a nickname.”

“Oh, him?” Taehyung scoffed, continuing the act. “I barely even know him.”

“But you want to, don’t you?” Jimin giggled, thoroughly entertained.”

“I don’t have a crush on him,” He concluded seriously, pushing up his glasses to the bridge of his nose and continuing to work, seemingly unbothered by his friend’s antics. Jimin emitted a final burst of laughter, but dropped the topic, seeming to believe his words.

They spent the next few minutes in silence, both focused on their work. Jimin took orders at lightning speed, and Taehyung managed to finish editing his assignment fairly quickly, mostly motivated by nervous energy.

“What type of camera does he have?” Jimin asked casually.

“Canon Rebel,” Taehyung replied, too quickly for his own good. Jimin’s suspicious stare tormented him until he finally cracked.

“Fine!" he sighed, throwing up his hands in surrender. "I might have the tiniest, microscopic interest in him. Not a crush. Just an interest.”

"An interest, sure." he scoffed as he emerged from behind the counter and wrapped his arms around the boy, smothering him. “My little Taetae is growing up! Look at you, showing your feelings and shit.” 

“I'm still taller than you,” he mumbled through Jimin's sweater. "And I don't have feelings. They're gross."

Jimin bit his lip to hold back a huge smile with a hint of something mischievous in it. That couldn’t mean anything good.

“Stop it. Stop thinking right now.”

“I know how you can pay me back for saving your life last week.”

“Didn’t you say-”

“Let’s pretend I didn’t,” he replied quickly. “Let me help you get together with him.”

“What makes you think I want to initiate a conversation with a virtual stranger?”

“If you keep watching him that hard every time he comes in here, you’re gonna need new glasses,” he playfully nudged his golden frames.

“No. Never. A thousand times no.”

Jimin smiled even bigger, staring deep into Taehyung’s soul.

“No.” He said stronger, refusing to be swindeled into a dangerous arrangement.

Defeated, Jimin pouted all the way back to the counter. Taehyung turned his attention back to his homework, pulling out his calculus binder. As he tapped rapidly at the buttons on his calculator, he heard a loud sigh from a few feet away. Ignoring it, he returned back to his work, scribbling the answers down on his worksheet. Then another loud sigh. Taehyung rolled his eyes, shooting a pointed stare in the barista’s direction. Not even a minute later came another sigh, so loud and mournful that it caught the attention of some of the customers nearby. 

“I’ll think about it, okay?” Taehyung had reached the peak of stress, throwing his pencil down and pleading with the boy. “I’ll think about it.”

Jimin’s face brightened into a satisfied smirk, relieving the other boy. He yelled something to the workers in the back room before untying his apron and hanging it up by one of the shelves and grabbing his backpack.

“Let’s go to class, lover boy.” He teased, pinching Taehyung’s cheeks as he scrambled to keep up with him. He didn’t tell anyone—he barely even admit it to himself, but he spent the rest of that day trying to beat back the sparks that shot through him whenever he remembered that morning.

“What’s your favorite flower?”

“My what?”

“Favorite flower,” Taehyung repeated. “What is it?”

“Why?” Namjoon laughed at the strange question. “Are you going to buy me flowers?”

“Not if you don’t tell me what your favorite flower is.” Taehyung joked. “Come on, hyung. It’s for my stupid writing class. Help a brother out.”

Taehyung had done remarkably better on his last two chemistry tests thanks to Namjoon’s amazing brain. The change was so drastic that he had actually begun to understand the material on his own, meaning that their tutoring sessions had shifted into study dates with an occasional question here or there. Taehyung had insisted on paying the boy for his help, but Namjoon strongly declined the offer, suggesting instead that Taehyung continue to help him in the studio, which he was more than happy to do. Of course, Namjoon’s idea of help was really just watching him bob his head self consciously to the music and listening to his mediocre feedback. “You’re like a lucky charm,” he claimed. “The last time I finished a song while you were there, my teacher complimented me on it in class. It was a fucking miracle.”

Now it was Taehyung’s turn yet again to ask for advice.

“What’s the topic today, Shakespeare?” He leaned forward to peak at Taehyung’s blank screen.

“‘Write a story from the perspective of a flower.’" he read the prompt. "How am I supposed to write a 200 word piece on something that doesn’t even move?”

“Hm,” Namjoon bit lightly on the end of his pencil as he contemplated the idea. “What kind of flower? Like, a garden flower or a vase flower?”

“The flower kind.” Taehyung replied dryly.

Namjoon ignored his sarcasm and finally answered his question.

“I like wildflowers, I guess. Anything you just find growing by it’s own outside, without a garden. Write about those.”

Taehyung nodded, thinking for a minute before acting on the first inkling of an idea that popped into his head, exhausted with trying to overthink every essay he wrote. He typed carelessly and furiously, causing Namjoon to look up from his book every couple minutes in concern. The words flowed quickly and dangerously, now that he refused to censor himself. In 15 minutes he was finished, handing it apprehensively to Namjoon to read.

 “Somewhere in the forest, a wildflower turns its petals to the sun for the first time. For the first time, it dares to uncurl it’s young limbs and bloom. For the first time, it is able to relax. Wildflowers do not have to be told that they are beautiful, like the roses of the garden or the morning glories that peek out from bushes every so often. Wildflowers are born knowing so, without any human to tell them. Wildflowers do not wait to be watered. They do not stand to be coaxed from their buds for the sake of profit. They provide for themselves and they bloom on their own time. But like any good flower, they are plucked from the ground, torn from their roots and thrown in a vase of water. Their once strong, confident petals will learn to wither away, and they will learn to bleed silently, so as not to corrupt their beauty. Like any good flower, they will not last, and the beauty that held their chins up with pride will be their demise.”

 “You came up with this,” he cocked his head from side to side, completely examining the words on the screen in front of him. “In 7 minutes?”

“It’s a rough draft,” he explained.

“I’ve never heard you write like this.”

Namjoon scrolled through the file, skimming it a second time. “It’s usually so... happy.”

“Yeah? Well, it was a lie.” The words that he had sighed came out before he realized what he had said, regaining consciousness only when he felt Namjoon’s concerned glare analyzing him. He didn’t bother asking the question that should have come next, because he already knew the answer that he would receive. Instead, he said,

“You’re coming to Hoseok’s party. End of discussion.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to attempt a response, managing to squeak out a surprised, “Why?”

“Because,” Namjoon began, closing his book and beginning to pack his things into his backpack. “I’m not letting you grow old and bitter alone in your apartment all year. You’re stressed. I can see it. I can hear it in your writing and your voice. Just look-” He pulled out his phone and stuck the camera lens in his face, a click sounding as Taehyung frowned in confusion. He turned the screen toward him, revealing a rather grumpy looking photo of the boy, enhanced with gray eye circles and tossled hair that further proved Namjoon’s point.

“You look like you need a hug. Now get up, we’re going to your house.”

“What- now?”

“The party is at 8. In 3 hours.” He stood up from the table, forcing Taehyung to follow his lead.

“How am I supposed to mentally prepare myself for a party that’s 3 hours away?” He grumbled.

“You’re not.” He replied. “That’s why I’m helping you.”

As Taehyung reluctantly threw his things into his messenger bag, he swallowed bitterly, his throat dry from something akin to dread. “Does this mean I should throw away the story? W-was it that bad?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s the best thing you’ve ever written, which is saying a lot. I’m not worried about your writing. I’m worried about you.” He gave him a softer smile, dimples accenting the corners of his mouth, that put him at ease. “Now come on, we've got work to do.” he said as he dragged Taehyung toward the exit, draping an arm around him all the way.

[xinvisible-monstersx]

do you have any theatre/lit advice for other students based off of your major?

oy vey, I can do my best ! Thanks for this ask, I never get little treats like this.

What I wish I had known sooner: First thing I was told upon declaring a theatre major (I am a theatre/English double major with a minor in philosophy) by other majors was “if you’re good at literally anything else, go do that instead.” And while it may be specific to my life and college, fuck that. If you like something, do it. People are shit, if you derive enjoyment from something, don’t let other people take it away from you. Lit and drama students get a bad rep for being pretentious. I study Shakespeare, I should know. Don’t let that often true reputation get in your way. Nobody knows about how you see the world than you do. 2/3 of the folks I know would tear me apart for saying all of that, but it’s true. Additionally, theatre and lit are extremely difficult because of A) the ridiculous workload coupled with B) the time dedication. I can sleep at night knowing I worked harder for these two degrees as I begin grad school applications than at least half of the STEM people and the majority of the biz and econ people.

Most important thing: Read. Go read everything required of you and anything you think you might like too. I had very few friends til the end of high school, so my entire life was scheduled around reading and community theatre. I can’t tell you how many times I have saved my own ass when I didn’t have the time to finish a reading before class and was able to work out a discussion or quiz based on a familiarity with a time period or author’s general body of work. Reading what you don’t like is also extremely important. Hell, I think it’s easier to write about what I don’t like than to synthesize why I enjoy a reading. AND don’t put off readings for theatre OR lit (or anything). I guarantee you the classes you’re reading heavily for are a thousand times more tricky than a tedious GenEd credit.

Final thing: TAKE NOTES. They can be ugly, but take them. I so wish I could go back in time and take notes on my lit classes last year. I gave up halfway through second semester and missed so many things I would have loved to have in exam prep and final papers. If you’re going by the assumption that “oh, it’s in the book,” that’s great. But like… Where in the book? You’re just going to effortlessly find the page, or remember the quote? No. Write it all down. Preferably in pencil because nothing is permanent.