#wasting time scrolling but on the webpage this time

[approximately20eggs]

if you see me online when I said I was taking a break from tumblr no you didn't /j

[thegirlwiththelilactattoo]

No. 9, or Things I Do Instead of Writing

Excessively Robust Footnotes: If there's one thing my advisor and committee are absolutely itching to read, it's more 400 word footnotes. Is the thought relevant to my dissertation? No...but what will my readership do if they don't know the entire biography of a random person I mention in passing?! Won't they be confused about my ethics if I don't provide an entire metacommentary of critiques of the ontological turn from Indigenous scholars?! How will they bear without insights into my methodology for dating a random undated webpage! Sorry dear committee, the third of this chapter that is in random tangents (that I spent hours looking up instead of writing the body of the chapter or developing the main argument) are essential!!!

Unnecessarily Long Citations: Hmmm...surely one citation isn't enough to substantiate this claim. Whelp, time to search on Google Scholar, skim 10 articles, add them all to my Zotero, and then realize it looks absolutely buckwild to have six different sources across five different disciplines from 1998-2021 after the sentence "x is one of the components of settler-colonialism."

Did Someone Mention Zotero?: There's no way I have 600 things saved on Zotero! Surely it isn't a waste of time to scroll through all of them, just to *see* if I actually need them. Oh and while I'm here, let me just insert this chapter's bibliography into a Word document to make sure there's no mistakes. And hmm...is that really how you cite a Congressional Report? Time to Google that for 30 minutes!

Frantically Look Things Up: Do I sound academic enough in this chapter? Is my writing good? Sounds like the perfect opportunity to look up a bunch of dissertation writing craft books!

Open Tumblr or Twitter or Reddit or Youtube or Instagram or Duolingo or ProPublica or Two Dots: Close immediately after feeling immense shame that I'm procrastinating. Wait five minutes. Open again.

[dispatchesfromunknownkadath]

Writing - A Post That Hit Me Hard: Human Moments

Hello, my name is Justy.

I'm resurrecting this old dream journal blog of mine (again) because I have thoughts and dreams that I really want to get down, because, well, have you ever had a thought or a dream that you thought was really great, but when you try to remember it, it was gone? I feel like that sometimes. Looking back over my old dreams, some are clear as day, others are fuzzy, and others still I can't remember dreaming. However, since I wrote them down on here, I can remember them even though I don't remember them.

That brings me to the Bluesky post up at the top here. I was scrolling Bluesky this morning while I was eating my post-workout breakfast, saw this post from someone I followed, and my scrolling came to a dead stop. Like the title says, it hit me hard. It made me recall a bunch of Internet things from the 1990s-2010s that, at the time, felt like fluff--silly Flash games, forum threads, chat rooms, dead fora run by friends as a lark and then forgotten about, pictures, experiences in MUDs, the MUDs themselves, whole webpages and webrings, even custom maps in games like Counter-Strike and Warcraft 3--but that are basically gone forever.

It didn't make me feel like I wasted my time. Far from it, I remember these moments I had with other people online fondly, but... those moments are gone. Maybe some of my real life friends recall a few of them but for the most part, I'm the only one that does. That made me indescribably sad in a way that, to describe it clinically, my poor expressive capabilities make hard to articulate.

Yes, there is the Internet Archive, but as I kept thinking about it, I thought of the refrain I heard most growing up around the Internet: everything on the Internet was permanent. As I replied to the post above, we're collectively learning that that's not the case. The Internet has been siloed off from the 1990s Wild West of bad HTML and Geocities pages to comment pages and platforms that can be easily turned off. Pages can be deactivated. Patreons can be closed.

And that's just at the amateur level! Whole platforms and sites filled with uncountable man-hours of hard work can be bought by people who don't understand them and degraded/denuded into irrelevance. Articles can be migrated from platform to platform until they break. Art like movies or TV shows can be lost to licensing squabbles or horse trading between streaming services until it can only be viewed either on an (itself-degrading) physical medium or pirated.

As I finished my breakfast and went to take my shower so I could get ready for work, I thought about all this as it relates to A.I. and got more upset. Multiple times over the holidays I saw that Coca-Cola ad made by A.I. and I just had this visceral revulsion to it. It was--like all A.I. images or movies I've seen--too slick, too clean. A regurgitated facsimile of human creativity to simulate warmth that did the exact opposite and left me dispirited. There was also the news that Meta was coming out with A.I. profiles, with the one they proudly touted on Instagram being a queer POC A.I. posting A.I. pictures of donating fake coats to a fake clothing drive. Disgusting. Totally disgusting.

I thought about all this in the shower, and well... I confess: I cried a bit.

I'm not doing too well lately mentally, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that during the low parts of my life, it was some of these (sometimes-silly, sometimes-meaningful) human moments online that brought a smile to my face. These moments sustained me during emotional downturns in my real life, and I feel like the rulers of the Internet now are trying to actively prevent these interactions.

As I prepped for the work day, I felt like I really had to write this all down somewhere or tell someone about it, just to get the thoughts out of my head. But where?

So I came back to my dormant dream journal Tumblr.

While lots of animals seem to dream, I feel as though ascribing meaning and feeling to dreams is a human thing and thus writing my reactions to the post above here felt the most human. I want to get back into recording my dreams, as wild and chaotic (and boring to others, admittingly) as they are. It makes me feel things. It makes me feel human.

When I got to work, I texted my wife to tell her I loved her. I saw another Bluesky post from someone I followed that desperately needed $20 for bus fare and a charging cable. I donated. I went on Discord to the Discord I use to talk to my friends and said I hoped they had a good day. I said the same thing on another Discord I'm on with some people from Bluesky (all of us previously from Twitter and previously from SomethingAwful's forums). I went on an Evangelion Discord (Evageeks, I'm a huge Evangelion fan) I'm on and said that, while I've seen the main Evangelion releases multiple times, that I can't always put into words the things I'm seeing or the questions I have, and expressed appreciation to the members that they're friendly and tolerant when I attempt.

I don't know.

Human moments online.

New ones to make up for the ones only I remember.

[tehamelie]

No matter how many times I scroll down youtube's front page without finding anything to watch, and I literally never do, I keep doing it any moment I stop watching out for it. Turns out, that's one of the few webpages I reflexively visit that has endless scrolling.

Waste exactly as much of your users' time as they give you with this one simple trick!

[quickdeaths]

@epitomees

It was rather unusual for a kyudo competition to be cancelled due to the rain, but there was nothing that could be done about it. While archers were expected to compete in any and all conditions, if a judge couldn't make the competition due to car trouble in driving rain, then it simply would need to be rescheduled. Having received the message shortly before they'd planned to depart the school grounds, there wasn't much else for Shinobu to do, though returning home early was an entirely unpleasant thought.

With no interest in going home, and Anzu occupied for the afternoon, Shinobu decided to spend time in the Shujin Academy library, working on homework and reading for pleasure in-between assignments. Few students stuck around after classes, rushing off to clubs, part-time jobs, or simply to spend time with friends, which left the library quiet and largely empty - as she liked it. In nearly all cases, she preferred solitude to the company of others, particularly when something else held her attention.

Regrettably, her peaceful afternoon was soon disturbed by a girl sitting down at her side, reaching for the sleeve of the boy's uniform Shinobu wore. "Shinobu-kun?" The girl's eyes were wide, equal parts eager and oddly fearful. "I didn't know you'd be here. You usually run off so quickly after the final bell rings..." Shinobu could sense whatever quiet time she'd planned slip away, closing the book and regarding the girl with dark, expressionless eyes. "I often have obligations to attend to, Miss Kikuchi. Today, I do not."

Miss Kikuchi seemed to take that information in stride, fidgeting her hands in her lap. She was a 2nd-year, as Shinobu recalled, though they'd spoken perhaps only twice. "Oh, I see. Well, while we're both here..." Again, she fidgeted, her voice trailed off with whatever courage she'd summoned on short notice failing to hold throughout a conversation. If you have something to say, Miss Kikuchi, simply say it. If the question is as I expect, I'll accept it as I always do, but if you lack even the conviction to ask, you only waste my time and yours.

Miss Kikuchi shrunk in on herself, weakly drawing out her phone as if to exchange numbers, only to pass the phone over with a webpage open. "Anyway," she murmured, as though brushing past the earlier topic of faint conversation. "Did you hear about this? A lot of people were talking about it in the halls..." Peering over the top of their glasses, Shinobu wordlessly took the phone and scrolled through the page. "That message was posted all over the place at some artist's exhibit." Her voice seemed to have returned, eager as she was to brush past her weak moment. "The Phantom Thieves... They really are here to help, aren't they?"

Madarame-sensei. A distant and occasional acquaintance of her father, though not someone Shinobu knew personally. Pushing the phone back, Shinobu shrugged. "Were I to believe in them, I'd still find it a rather pointless endeavor." That the Phantom Thieves were a popular conversation topic at Shujin Academy was understandable enough, after what had happened with Coach Kamoshida. "The world's injustices are a fact of life, dealt with by all, and anyone who pretends to be able to realign the world in a better image is acting dishonestly. There are too many people and too many institutions devoted to upholding the world as it is to enact genuine change."

Perhaps Miss Kikuchi had simply meant it as a segue into another conversation, but Shinobu had quickly shut it down. If Miss Kikuchi had nothing interesting to talk about, it was better that she leave, and after a few more stilted words, eventually the younger girl departed with a bow and an apology for the intrusion, the question plain upon her face yet unasked. Yet, again, Shinobu was kept from her homework and her books by another person, someone walking with much more sureness to her steps than the hesitant, timid Miss Kikuchi. "Student Council President," Shinobu acknowledged. "Good afternoon."

"If I've missed some important bulletin regarding the library's hours, then I regret my lack of attentiveness." Typically, the library stayed open rather late for just such occasions, but it wasn't unheard of for school facilities to close early for whatever reason. "Need I vacate the library for some purpose or other, or is there something else that I can do for you?" What exactly that could be, Shinobu had no idea, but if the universe was set upon keeping her busy today, then no amount of grumbling or resistance would change it.

[liveblack]

Web Design Trends 2023 — Improve the Aspect of the Web

As we already know that web design trends keep coming every year, and small to big changes are seen in it, which helps everyone to stay connected in every way. And such trends used to come even in those times when even the word trend was not in Trend.

However, we’ve seen a lot of trends playing out in 2022, in which Experimental Navigation, Scrolling Effects, Monochromatic Gradients, Layering, and many other trends played an important role in changing the look of the website, increasing website traffic and ranking. With all these trends, this year has been full of new, experimental, informative, and inspiring things created by designers for the web, and the coming year will welcome us with amazing updates to these trends or brand-new design trends.

These words show the Web Designs in 2023 — Accessibility, Simplicity, and Interactivity.

Now let’s talk about web design trends of 2023.

1 — Organic Shapes — Organic or fluid shapes are any shapes that do not involve straight lines. These shapes are uneven and irregular, appearing more like hand-drawn designs than geometric shapes. They can be used to make the page more attractive and draw attention to a particular area, giving the site a more personal feel. This makes the design more human, as the shapes around us are not always in a straight line.

2 — Thumb Friendly Mobile Navigation — Placing the navigation bar, menu, and even contact buttons where the user’s thumb can reach easily can make your site more comfortable to use and improve your UX. To keep up with this new emerging trend, designers should design apps in such a way that everything on the screen is easy to navigate with just a thumb. One way to make the app thumb-friendly is to design the required tabs closer to the thumb.

3 — Smart Video — While the video option is a great option, it’s not a video worth putting in thoughtlessly. And that’s when it comes to smart video: a video with a goal and meaning. It’s getting old with just posting a YouTube video on your site and letting it go. People want to see something new and, at the same time, something that is worth their time. A smart video with a creative concept and idea can only help you increase your reach.

4 — Simplicity — Simplicity is the future of web design in 2023, as people don’t have the time or patience to watch large pictures or slow down pages due to unclear navigation. Simple yet smartly done web design, which is speedy and user-friendly, will be in trend. Website visitors expect a simple interface, a fast navigation list, information that is not complicated, and bold and simple content. People want to get straight to the point of what you are offering without wasting their time.

5 — Page Speed & Mobile Responsive Website Design — Page speed plays a very important role. Google takes page speed into account when ranking a website. According to a 2019 study by Portent, load times of 0–4 seconds are best for conversion rates. And because people will not give so much time that there is a delay in loading the webpage.

When a website is responsive, its design and/or content adjusts to fit the size of each screen being used to view it. A responsive website adapts itself to the device someone is using to view it.

Both these factors are very important for web design. Because in this fast-paced world, people want to see and read a lot in less time.

6 — Minimalism — Every company thinks that the more it shows, the better it is. But really, the shorter and more to-the-point content, the better. In 2023, the less and smarter and more intelligent content you give to your customers/audience, the more they will be attracted. Whatever you want to show your visitors, brilliantly provide them with the most important and useful information. Minimalism is the smart key to reaching the minds of visitors.

7 — White Space — Using white space is about not trying to cram as much information on the screen as possible. This experience is more comfortable for the website visitors due to which important content is better and easier to see, and readability is improved. The gap we use between these components is simply referred to as “white space.” The field need not be white as long as it is vacant. It is referred to as “negative space” for this reason.

Web design trends in 2023 are going to be very precocious, simple, and smart. How to attract visitors brilliantly by providing less but very important information, better design, sharp content, fast page speed, smart videos, and how to increase SEO rankings, you will get to do a lot of creativity in all these factors. This will be the aim of web design in the upcoming year: how to convey the most in the least amount of space/content.

Liveblack is a full-stack digital agency from concept to design, development, and market. We are here for any creative need you may have! We are one of the most proficient agencies in Ahmedabad, India.

[hirinfotech]

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[elk-crown]

A ramble about the new default wikipedia layout

First of all- Big notice. IF you have an account, you can set it back to the old style in your preferences. This isn’t however, a viable solution to the issue as if you dont want to be forced to make a wikipedia account you have to deal with the annoying new one.

Let’s get started.

As of January 18th 2023, Wikipedia changed its classic, decade-old layout to a fresh, new look. This look is already widely disliked as many people first assumed that its a bug sending them to the mobile website. 

Now, I use my browser at half my 16:9 screen size, so i’m essentially on 4:3 with my browser- but that doesn’t change that I have issues with this update. I’ll mainly be using images from a fullscreen version of the site- though as someone who uses the browser at half the screen the new website is *not* good at all and is in fact, very claustrophobic with how the entire page takes up the screen instead of being contained in its boxes. So some of my complaints with varying screen sizes will also be mentioned.

Putting this under a readme bc it will be LONG

Let’s first take the front page as an example.

On the old style, this is what you see:

Everything is contained in its boxes, there’s a little bit of scrolling to do to see the entire page, the menu is fully accessible on its lefthand side.

On the new version, it looks like this.

There is that tiny square in the bottom right on every page that you can use to stretch the page out, but you have to do it PER PAGE every single time you load it which is not intuitive at all.

Now. Everyone will hear everyone cry “there’s so much wasted space!! Why???” And indeed. It’s wasted space. It’s pointlessly wasted. Not only that, but look at how HUGE the margins of the search bar is. The search bar area is taking up TOO MUCH space. It was easy to find before, but it was neatly nested into itself. Now it looks like wikipedia decided to do the good ol’ “Header at top body content below” style. It has a bit more scrolling to do like this, but it isn’t egregious... yet. It makes use of the empty space when you’re in FULL SCREEN. But as you know, I dont use browsers at full that often. So for me, THIS HAPPENS.

It *wedges* itself above everything. And then forces me to scroll through all of this just to get to the front page again.

Further talk will be done using a random page.

Besides the usual wasted space comments, there’s a multitude of big issues with this from the get go. Such as: This tiny page was shown in its entirety on the old version, but now requires you to scroll to view the bottom area with all licensing information and “about” navigation.

The menu not being always open on the left is a problem.  In both the compact and fullscreen of the old style you will always have access to the menu on the left- which is frankly one of the most important accessibility measures to have. reducing clicks by having the entire menu available is important and also helps people navigate the site faster by knowing how to get from one page to another easily. Not only that, but it also helps them find the versions of a webpage from their language faster. On the new version, all available languages are hidden under a clickable tab

Someone who may not speak english and wouldn’t understand the symbol would really not be able to intuit that this is where they go to change the language to one they DO understand. This isn’t accessible. On the old version, all languages would immediately be displayed at the lefthand side.

Which allows people at a glance to know how many and exactly what languages have this page translated. You don’t have to know what “languages” means to find YOUR relevant language because its already fully displayed there.

Style wise, the website has performed my detested “flattening” phenomenon that all modern websites just LOVE to do. The old version of the site had tabs look like actual tabs! You could easily tell which tab you were on at a glance because of how it existed physically.

but on the new one, they flattened it and it not only lost its charm as a clickable button, but also just.... isn’t as easy for me to read as a tab i’m on currently?

It’s very  easy to miss the underlining and while sure the colors differ it doesn’t feel as intuitive at a glance.

The question to me really just is: who asked for this? Sure, larger font sizes are nice they could have added a toggle for that somewhere that gets stored in your cookies so every time you enter the website it’d remember the font size you selected but.... Wikipedia, the last bastion of good wiki design, has fallen to the fucking FANDOM-style design and i am just deeply disappointed that they didn’t stick to the “if it aint broke don’t fix it” mentality.

As of now, its just lazy. They couldn’t be assed to have a proper desktop experience. Everything is mobile now and if you dont use mobile to navigate websites well fuck you then have fun on your mobile desktop experience.

[bqstqnbruin]

If 20 doesn't scream something for Mat Barzal

I combined the two hope that’s ok

20. “I have long since become desensitised to you walking around in just your underwear.”

76. “Stop being over dramatic!”

Happy blurb weekend!

____________________

Your first house after your engagement was perfect. You were ecstatic to start a family there, seeing you and Mat being there for as long as he was with the Isles, maybe even longer if he retired with them. 

At least, it was perfect until the sink in the downstairs bathroom started dripping and wouldn’t stop, wasting water with every second a droplet went down the drain. “Hey, Mat?” you call, not sure what to do. He pokes his head in, his hair flopping into his eyes. “I think we need to call a plumber.”

“What? Why?”

“The sink won’t stop dripping,” you tell him, pointing to it, “Look, it’s just drip... drip...drip...”

He takes your hands, clearly trying not to go crazy by the mirroring of the faucet you were doing. “Ok, I can fix that.”

You burst out laughing, Mat somehow not joking based on the look on his face. “Oh, you’re serious?” 

“Yeah,” he insists, opening the cabinets below the sink, “I just have to look up a video on Youtube, but I can do it.”

You start shaking your head, really worried based on your knowledge of your fiance’s lack of handyman skills. “Please, no. Call a plumber.” 

“No. I’m doing this. Now leave me be. Let me do this.”

“No,” you try to protest

“I’m serious,” he says, pushing you out, “Let me do this.” He kisses you, closing the door to the bathroom.

Leaving him there with no tools, knowing that whatever he was about to do wasn’t going to end well, you go up to your bedroom to watch TV. You knew that you would end up having to call a plumber to fix the mess that Mat would inevitably make. Scrolling through some webpage about the best plumbers in the area, you hear Mat scream from downstairs. 

“Yeah, that seems right,” you say to yourself, hearing him storm up the stairs. He comes into the bedroom, his shirt and pants in his hands. “So how’d it go?”

He lets out a mocking laugh, “I got sprayed. At least you get a show out of it,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows even though you were clearly unamused.

“Stop being over dramatic. Call a plumber.” 

“I feel like you should be pointing out my body. You used to stop breathing when I was nearly naked,” he calls from the closet. “I’m trying my best.”

“Oh, we’re cocky, I see,” you tease him, earning a scoff from him. “We’ve been together for, what, six years now? I have long since become desensitised to you walking around in just your underwear.”

“I think you’ve stopped loving me.”

“I think if your career as a hockey player doesn’t go as planned, you should be an actor. You sure understand dramatics better than you do plumbing,” you tease. Before he can answer, the lamp that you had on next to you goes out, the lightbulb dead. “I have something else for you to fix.”

“Fuck.” 

“It’s just a lightbulb! And call a plumber!” 

“Fuck!” he screams, more dramatic than the first time, throwing his head back laughing as he goes to get another lightbulb. 

[artaefact]

bakery 1995.

—wordcount: 14.7k+

—genre: angst, fluff, romance, baker!jimin, bakery cafe au, childhood friends-to-lovers au

—pairing: park jimin x f reader ft. bestfriend!jungkook

—rating: pg-15

—warnings: age gap (jimin is 4-5 years older), brief mention of physical assault, memory loss, overprotective parents, some intended grammatical mistakes, swearings, y/n is dragged into jungkook’s shenanigans

—summary: After returning from college for summer break, you got yourself a part time job to keep yourself busy. However, things go way too unexpectedly and you find yourself unraveling your forgotten past.

author’s note: this is for @btswritingcafe promptly yours event !! i tweaked the prompt a bit, so hopefully no one would get confused! happy reading ♡

Prompt: “Person A once had a major childhood crush on Person B. Fast forward to college where Person A is convinced it was nothing but temporary, that is until they return home for summer break to find Person B back after being gone for several years. Turns out, they weren’t such temporary feelings.”

© artaefact/eunoiabliss 2020. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.

It’s nice to know that no matter how judgemental the world can be, pigeons would never judge you. Despite the clear contrast between yourself and the asphalt pathway, they would not hesitate to excrete waste on either of them and can’t even be bothered by the possible consequences.

Staring at the dropping on your jacket sleeve, you exhale loudly while rummaging your pocket for a kleenex.

‘Out of all the places where their shit could have landed on, it had to be MY jacket,’ you grumble to yourself.

Reaching towards the bakery in the area, you hope they still have some cinnamon rolls you have been craving for. You can already imagine yourself humming in delight as the sweetness spreads across your taste buds and—

“You have got to be kidding me.”

The cashier attendee bows apologetically at you. “We’re so sorry, all the cinnamon rolls are sold out for today.”

Today must be the worst day to date in your entire years of existence. How on earth can a bakery run out of cinnamon rolls?

Groaning internally, you trudge out of the, now, third bakery that has sold out their cinnamon rolls.

Bad luck seems to follow you throughout the day. Is it because you went out of the house while your parents were in the middle of nagging you? For the last few days after you came back home for summer break, they have been constantly nagging you and you would kill to have an hour of peace and quiet.

Mindlessly, you whip up your phone and search up on Google while you walk to the nearby bus station, typing in the search bar — is it bad luck if a bird pooped on you?

Biting your lower lip, you press on the first link that appears on the screen.

Bird poop may be a sign of hope in disguise, you read. Snorting in incredulity, you scroll through the webpage.

It can’t be good luck.

You are not the type to believe in superstitions, however, besides getting pooped on, you dropped your phone on the pavement of the sidewalk just before you reached the first bakery, an hour ago. This resulted in the annoying crack of the screen right in the middle of it. Not only that, the sole of your right tennis shoes came off halfway which hindered you from walking properly and made you look like someone who hurt their leg.

Having had enough for today, you decide to go back home. Until a pastel pink store, right across the street, catches your attention with its aesthetic-looking door.

What’s this? A new—

A dramatic gasp escapes your lips after reading the name of the store, earning confused stares from nearby people. But you couldn’t care less.

Maybe Lady Luck does still care about you.

As soon as the pedestrian light turns green, you excitedly run, no, shuffle through the zebra-cross, reaching the newly-opened bakery.

My last hope is here. Please, let there be—

The interior of the bakery exudes a welcoming vibe, with the color of pale pink being the dominant over the whole place. Basically, it's a place where those Instagram models would kill to take their pictures at. However, it’s not the interior itself that your focus locks on. When the smell of freshly baked goods wafts into your nose, your eyes zero themselves on the various types of pastries that line the display counter, covered in glass domes. And there it is.

“Yes!” You squeal, grabbing the bakery tray to fill it as much as you’d like.

When you place the filled tray in the cash register counter, the cashier comments, “Woah, that’s a lot.”

If it is a normal day, you would have waved it off. However, unfortunately for the guy, it isn’t a normal day for you, after the constant annoying incidents that happened to you earlier. The comment snaps the last thread of patience you have for the day and sadly, targets the person in front of you. “I think you should mind your own—”

You take your thoughts back. Lady Luck is not on your side nor is the universe. They must be having fun, playing pranks on you so much today.

Your words cease immediately at his sheepish yet attractive smile.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “Just having a really bad day and I—”

“No! That’s okay.” The guy grins at you, eyes turning into crescent moons. “I’m the one who should be sorry, I just said the first thing that came up in my mind.”

“Ah...”

“I suck at starting conversations,” he says, sheepishly. “It’s a skill I’m planning to improve.”

Blinking twice, you manage to smile back at him, most probably just a cringed expression. “Well, um, good luck with that.”

As soon as he hands you the paper bag, you dash out of the bakery, not once looking back.

Your cheeks feel hot during the whole trip back home, every time you remember what happened, you would mentally kick yourself.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Eating the warm cinnamon rolls is a blessing and a curse.

You have never tasted such heavenly flavour before, all your worries and exhaustion seem to fade away. This brings you to freeze in the realisation that you’ll want, no, need to go back to that bakery to buy those delicious rolls again. Meaning, you’ll see that cute guy whom you snapped at earlier, again.

His friendly eye-smile burns deep in your mind. But you can’t shrug off the sense of familiarity of his face and his voice…

Have I met him before?

Once you reach home, body aching and tired, you take a quick shower before digging into the rolls. Clicking your tongue, you continue to munch on the rolls in your room while your thoughts pull you in deep.

The sudden knock on your door, however, brings you back to the present. Groaning loudly, you stand up from your padded window seat.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Jungkook.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Your mouth agape at the sudden visit from your best friend. “Didn’t you say you won’t see me at all until break is over?”

“I might have changed my mind. I was very bored at home.” He enters your room, plopping on your beanbag. “So, now I am bored as hell and— Did you buy food without telling me?”

You met him during freshman year and you both hit it off quite quickly, you might add. After constantly pairing up together in projects, college project meetups gradually turned into hangouts.

“Says the one who claims to see my face every day makes him sick.” You roll your eyes at his dramatic ass, you go back to the window seat, crossing your legs. “It wasn’t planned, okay? I just got back home like thirty minutes ago.”

“But still you nearly finished everything without leaving me much!” He bit your last half-finished roll, letting out a noise of approval. “Which bakery did you buy it from?”

“It’s a new one. I never saw it before we went to college.”

“You should bring me there soon.”

“Nu-uh,” you refuse. “You can go yourself. I am not stepping a foot inside that place any longer.”

“What? Why not?”

“I may have embarrassed myself in front of the worker there.” Then you tell him what happened earlier.

Jungkook shakes his head in pity. “My poor Y/N, how do you always embarrass yourself when I’m not around? How would you survive in this world without me?”

Snorting at his words, you lean against the pillows on your back. “You’re the lucky one to have someone like me as his best friend. Anyways, how about that job I’m looking for?”

“Oh!” Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “Right, I was about to tell you! My friend is looking for a part-timer for his cafe.”

“Hmm, that sounds…”

Jungkook answers, “Boring? I know you’re looking for something much more exciting and—”

Narrowing your stare at Jungkook’s obvious judgmental face, you cut him off. “It sounds perfect, actually.”

Sighing, Jungkook whips up his phone. “You better bring me leftovers every time you get off work. I’ll bring you to his cafe tomorrow.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“What? Why?”

“You little shit—” You smack his arm.

“Ow! Stop that, woman! I thought you said—”

“This is a fucking bakery, dumbass!” You hiss at him.

Jungkook gapes at you. “It’s a bakery cafe, what’s the difference?”

“It’s different! I can’t go back in there!” You whine in embarrassment.

“Wait— So this is the bakery where you embarrassed yourself?”

Nodding wordlessly, you exhale before catching Jungkook failing to stifle his laughter. “Shouldn’t be too big of a problem. He’s nice, Y/N.”

“But—”

“And I told him you were coming…” Jungkook scratches the back of his head.

After contemplating for a while, you decided to gather your courage and enter the sweet-smelling bakery with Jungkook.

Too late to go back now. It was either this or staying bored at home for the rest of the summer break, facing your parents’ look of disapproval at your lack of daily activities, or to be more exact productivity.

The cute guy just finished placing cakes inside the glass displays on the counter, then his gaze shifts to where you and Jungkook are standing.

“Jungkook!” The cute guy’s brown hair is slicked back as he takes off his baker’s hat, approaching your best friend.

“It’s been so long, Hyung!” Jungkook greets back with a hug, smiling from ear to ear. “And wow—” His eyes skim through the pastel-themed cafe. “You finally opened your own cafe.”

Watching them interacting is a foreign sight to you. It’s a rare right to see Jungkook, the usually shy one, so friendly and comfortable around the cute guy.

If you’re lucky enough, maybe the cute guy won’t remember you and—

“Ah! Miss Cinnamon Rolls!”

Scratch that. Of course, he still remembers you.

“I didn’t know you were looking for a job.” His eye smile lands on you finally and your throat dries up.

Jungkook fails to hold back his laughter. “Miss Cinnamon Rolls? Just how much did you buy last time?”

After sending a brief glare at your best friend, you introduce yourself to the cute guy, “Y/N.”

As soon as your name slips past your lips, the cute guy freezes momentarily, eyes widening a fraction. “Y/N?”

You nod slowly.

“Uh,” He fumbles. “Jimin. Park Jimin.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“So, this is the kitchen area. We need to get the place ready by 8:30. Can you come by at 6 the latest?”

You nod at his question.

“We have a different menu each day. It will take some time for you to learn everything. But don’t worry I’ll teach everything you need to know.” He shoots you a smile, sending your heart to slightly flutter as you fiddle with your fingers.

Thank goodness Jungkook has left. Or else you’d never hear the end of his teasing or knowing smirk.

“I’m starting with bread and cakes these past few days before I open up the cafe section.”

For the rest of the day, Jimin spends his time letting you know everything about how the bakery runs whenever there are no customers. Even gracing you with two pieces of freshly-baked cinnamon rolls which made your cheeks burn in embarrassment at the memory of your first encounter.

“Go ahead, enjoy it,” Jimin shoots you a knowing grin.

Muttering a quiet ‘okay’, you take the first bite — holding a delighted groan at the sweetness that bursts through your tastebuds.

Propping his chin on his hand, he stares at you in amusement. “You must really like cinnamon rolls, huh?”

“They’re my comfort food,” you admit after swallowing down a piece. “My late grandmother used to make a lot of rolls at home.”

“I see… Well, have you ever baked before, Y/N?”

“The basic stuff like chocolate chip cookies…”

“Oh, that’s great—”

You added quickly, “But I nearly burned down Jungkook’s kitchen, though. He banned me from the kitchen ever since.”

A surprised laugh escapes the man’s lips which you don’t mind hearing more often, especially if you are the one behind it.

“At least the cookies still turned out great. It was a bit on the burnt side but still good… Crispy and crunchy.” You nervously chuckle. “But I swear, I’m not that bad if you provide a clear recipe!”

Still giggling, Jimin leans forward on his seat. “I can teach you everything you need to know. The basic stuff on baking and then there would be clear recipes I can provide you.”

Your eyes lighten up at that. “Yes! I’ll try my best.”

Arriving at the bakery at 6 am sharp, the next day — your official first day at work — Jimin can be seen moving back and forth from the small window opening connecting the kitchen and the bakery itself, already busy in the kitchen.

The smell of his work wafts through the entire bakery, indicating that he has been there for quite some time. Once you enter the kitchen, your mouth waters instinctively at the smell and sight of freshly-baked breads on the counter.

“How can I help?” From observing the finished baked goods, your eyes shift curiously at some ingredients — eggs, chocolate chips, sugar, flour — on the kitchen counter while you tighten the knot of your apron.

“You’re going to bake some chocolate chip cookies.” Jimin places a tray full of another different set of bread near the first one through the window. “So, go ahead, preheat the oven first.”

Following his instruction, you move towards one of the ovens. “Um…”

The corner of his lips quirks up at your obvious confusion before he chimes on how hot the oven should be set on.

With a brief nod, you turn on the oven. “Is this a test to see how far my baking skills go?” When you take a glimpse of the honey-haired man, he returns it with an amused grin of his own.

“Bingo.” Jimin’s smile is boyish and carefree and his eyes become crescent moons.

In other words, it made your heart race. However, you dismiss such unprofessional thoughts quickly before blood rises to your cheeks.

Clearing your throat, you move to the counter and start mixing the necessary ingredients altogether and set the dough on the baking tray. When the oven is preheated, you bring the tray towards it only to realise your mistake too late: not opening the oven first.

“Let me help,” Jimin says softly, opening the oven deftly.

“T-Thanks...” you mumble, concentrating on the task at hand.

Time passes quickly, before you know it, the oven makes a soft ‘ting’ sound. Opening it, the sweet smell wafts through the kitchen.

“I did it!” you say, excitedly placing the hot tray on the marble counter.

“But the final test is how the cookies taste.”

You watch in nervous anticipation as Jimin pops one of the cookies into his mouth. Not a moment later, he lets out a surprised sound.

“This is really good, Y/N. You do have the talent to bake.”

You beam at his words.

“Since that’s all set, I believe we still have other kinds of pastries to prepare for the day. I have all the recipes prepared for you here.” He motions to the notebook on the counter — you flip through it, astonished at all the recipes.

“Are these your own personalised recipes?”

Nodding, Jimin shoots you a grin. “I’ve always loved baking and there are some ways to make things with their own unique taste.”

The rest of the upcoming hour, you and Jimin were busy baking with Jimin instructing and giving you pointers. At some point, you even talked about anything and everything, as if you both have known each other all your life while you both work.

You have to admit, you find it really enjoyable. When the bakery closes, you sit quietly on one of the empty tables near the cashier after Jimin tells you to wait.

Mindlessly flipping through his recipe notebook, your attention soon shifts to Jimin himself with a steaming cup in his hold.

“Here.” He sets the cup in front of you.

You look at him quizzically before he motions for you to try.

“I’m opening the cafe part next week,” Jimin says. “Thought you can be the first to judge my caramel macchiato.”

“That’s a lot of caramel in one drink…” For a few moments, you observe the steaming coffee, froth decorates the top of it with drizzles of caramel in patterns of criss-cross nearly covering most of the foam itself. “Why caramel macchiato, though?”

“I thought you’d—” He clears his throat. “So many people really love caramel macchiato. So, I thought I’d go with this one for you to try first.”

Bringing the cup carefully to your lips, you take a sip of the beverage. The texture of the coffee is so smooth and the slight bitterness spreads through your taste buds and down your throat. Then you taste the caramel, letting out a delighted surprise when you find caramel bits inside the beverage.

Jimin keeps his stare on you, one hand supporting his chin and his eyes unreadable.

“What is it?” You ask, after downing the drink.

He blinks as if he was lost in his own thoughts. “Uh, how is it?”

“It’s very good.”

“Do you like coffee?” He asks.

Nodding, you tell him you loved to steal your mom’s coffee when you were younger. “There used to be a cafe near my place. I used to go there frequently during my high school years.”

Jimin briefly stills at yours words. “Do you... Still go there?”

You shake your head. “It was closed two years ago unfortunately.”

“Hmm, that’s a shame. I would’ve wanted to try the coffee there.”

Chuckling at his words, your mind takes you back to your high school days. “It was really good.”

Humming to yourself, you continue to flip through the pages of Jimin’s recipe notebook. “What’s this?” You stop at one page, pointing at a child’s drawing on his recipe notebook. “Did you draw it when you were younger?”

“It’s a shooting star.” Jimin answers. “And, no. I didn’t.”

“Oh? Sister? Brother?”

“I don’t have a sister and my brother just does not have the artistic skill to draw that,” he laughs. “It was someone from my past. Someone who is precious to me.”

“Oh…” Noticing his faraway gaze on the notebook, you sense it is a sensitive topic. “Why a shooting star though?”

“It represents hopes and wishes, according to her.” His smile turns nostalgic. “I was having a hard time back then. But this girl,” he chuckles as if in disbelief. “— just straight up grabbed my notebook and drew a shooting star on it, saying I should wish on this star since seeing a shooting star is not that common here.”

There’s something sad but warm in Jimin’s tone as he talks about this girl. You can only assume that this girl is not in his life anymore. Or even in this world.

“I see…”

“As ridiculous as it sounds, I actually did it. Very frequently in all honesty. Whenever I’m having a hard time, I’d wish upon that star.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

A week passes quickly and just like a normal day, you arrive back home just a quarter past eight. Tugging off your shoes near the doorway, you hear your dad calling from the living room.

“Yes?” Mindlessly, you step into the living room only to meet the stern glare from him.

“Where were you?” Your dad asks. “Do you have any idea what time it is now?”

“It’s around eight...”

“And your curfew?”

Furrowing your brows, you gape, “I thought that was back in high school.”

“That still applies until now. I expect you to come back before seven.” Then he repeats his question, “Where were you?”

“From my new part-time place.” You answer. “I thought I told you about it.”

“If you want a job, you can intern in the company for the summer,” your dad sighs. “There’s no need for part-time jobs.”

You should have known it would last just three days before you are missing your university life, or to be more specific living alone. With the constant nagging from your parents, you crave for silence for a period of time. One thing you have been missing quite badly you have to admit, which is why you took the job in the bakery. Away from the scrutinising stares of your parents.

Here it goes again.

“I don’t think I’m ready to start there, Dad,” you exhale. “I want to do other things while I can.”

The same topic, the same debate you’d try to avoid as much as possible ever since you arrived back home for the summer. That was why you’d try to find something else to do. You always wanted to try a new hobby over the holidays. Now, with the excess amount of time in your hands, you are able to try.

That is why you opt for the part time job Jungkook found — working in the bakery.

“This isn’t going to work if you get home after your curfew, Y/N. You know how dangerous it is if you come home late.”

“I’m an adult now,” you reply, exasperatedly. “I can take care—”

“Things can get unpredictable, Y/N. It’s better that you’re safe than sorry.”

“Dad, when will you stop reminding me of that?” You groan in annoyance. “I don’t even remember how the accident happened.”

“The more reason for you to be cautious!”

Exasperated, you storm up to your room and carelessly throw your bag on the side of your bed. Laying on your back, you stare at the ceiling as your thoughts muddle when you try to think of what happened.

All you remember back then is that you woke up in the hospital, met with the worried gaze of your parents as soon as you got your consciousness back. However, they never tell or fill you in on what happened.

Gradually, your eyelids grow heavier — exhausted from the day and the burst of negative emotions over the argument you had earlier. Thus, you succumb to sleep. However, your mind takes you elsewhere.

Everything is dark.

With your own ragged breathing, you struggle to keep yourself as quiet as possible, biting down a hiss from the sting of your scraped knees. Tears pool in your eyes as you wait, hidden behind one of the playground’s slides and out of sight of any possible passerby.

There are no memories of what happened beforehand. All you know is to stay there and wait.

“Y/N?”

Peeking out of your hiding place, the figure draws closer calling your name in another hushed whisper.

But you knew this voice. So, you whispered back, “Here...” As soon as you get out of your hiding place, a warm embrace envelops your small frame.

“We’re okay, everything’s okay. I’ve lost them. We’re safe now,” he whispers, stroking your head softly while your fists clench on his shirt.

Not a moment later, your tears start to fall and you sob into his shirt. He tightens his hold on you, one hand on the back of your head as he repeatedly whispers, “It’s okay, I’m here.”

“I’m here...” His voice then seems to echo and your surrounding becomes a blur.

When you open your eyes, you realise you’re back in your room yet there are stray tears in your eyes. Sitting up on your bed, you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.

Was that a memory…?

“Have a good day.” You bid the last customer of the day farewell and once they leave, your cheeks droop into a frown. With a sigh, you walk out of the cashier register place towards the front door, turning the ‘Open’ plate to ‘Close’.

The dream you had last night still felt so vivid that you considered it was a flashback of your memory loss. You wanted to ask your parents about it. However, yesterday’s conflict was still fresh. You were sure they would dismiss it.

After cleaning up the counters of the bakery café and mopping the floors, you trudge into the break room, sitting down on one of its chairs as you wait for Jimin’s return from his “errand”.

Your mind takes you back to the dream where someone was hugging you tight.

Who was it? you wonder. In the back of your mind, somehow you never felt his warmth among your high school friends. The guy who was holding you is just different.

You are so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t realise Jimin entering until he brings something right in front of your face. “What—”

“Hot chocolate,” he answers, softly. “You seem distracted today, I thought this might cheer you up.”

Taking the steaming cup from him, you mutter your thanks before breathing in the sweet smell, blowing softly on the beverage. “That was fast.”

“Hmm?”

“Wait, did you go out to buy this?” You lift the warm cup of hot chocolate.

Jimin lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “I wanted to make you one. Until I realised that the ingredients are finished. So, I had to run out.”

“You didn’t have to, you know…”

“I know. But I wanted to anyway.”

Your eyes look down, can’t help feeling touched by his sweet gesture as you fight back to keep yourself from blushing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He must have noticed the change of your expression before he says quickly, “Only if you’re comfortable, of course! I just thought talking about what’s on your mind can ease you. At least a bit.”

Blinking your eyes twice, a chuckle escapes your lips. “I guess so.”

“That’s your first smile today.”

You raise a brow at him.

“Your first real smile, I mean. Your cheekbones do not have much tension if you’re genuinely happy whereas if you fake a smile, it seems more like you’re cringing. Like our first encounter.” He chuckles, meaningfully.

“I’m sorry...” you mumble, eyes glancing down at the steaming hot chocolate on your lap.

“That’s fine,” he says easily. “Everyone has their bad days.”

You smile slightly at his words. “Had a fight with my parents last night.”

Jimin stays quiet, still listening to you.

“They are always so protective when it comes to me. Maybe a bit too much at times. I’m a grown adult for fuck’s sake.” Another sigh escapes your lips before taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “My dad especially. He made it sound like a big deal when I came home around eight. I’m just frustrated at this.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

You nod in response.

“Was there something that made your dad feel that way?”

“I...” You blink. “I guess it’s because that one time I ended up in the hospital?”

“You did?”

You nod. “A few years ago, I had an accident.”

Jimin stiffens at your words. “Oh?”

“But it was nothing. I didn’t even remember what happened in all honesty.”

He stutters, “W-What?”

“I lost my memories. I had no recall of the accident at all.” Eyes training blankly on your front, focusing on nothing as you dive back into your memories. “My parents told me there is nothing to worry about and my memories would come back gradually. They never filled me in on what happened too.”

The corner of his lips soon quirks up slightly, his expression wistful. “Maybe they wouldn’t want you to be traumatised by what happened. It’s already fortunate enough for you to be able to recover from your head injury.”

“Yeah... I guess so,” you mumble.

However, since that incident you can’t deny the feeling of something missing since a chunk of your life has been cut off. No memories of the accident have returned even after years. Recovering from the head injury—

“Wait—” Head snapping to face Jimin. “How did you know I had a head injury?”

Jimin blinks repeatedly, as if your words just sink in. “Ah! I mean isn’t it a head injury? You lost your memories after all.” An awkward laugh escapes his lips. “Usually, people who lost their memories have head injuries, right?”

“Well, yeah...”

“Anyways, finish the hot chocolate and you should head home before your parents—”

Suddenly, a wave of deja vu washes over you. Snapping your gaze from the hot chocolate in your hands, you look at Jimin as your brain starts to grow fuzzy at the familiarity of Jimin’s words.

“Jimin...” you begin.

“Huh?”

“Have we ever met before I started working here?”

“You mean the first time you came into this bakery?”

You shake your head. “No, even before that. Did we know each other?”

A surprised glint appears in his eyes before it dissipates as quick as it appears. “I don’t think so…?”

Oh.

“Maybe we’ve just ran into each other at some point in town. But I don’t think we ever knew each other.”

“I see...” Disappointment floods through you at his words.

Right, you thought to yourself. If he was a close friend he would have recognised you instantly when you came to his bakery.

“Oh, look at the time.” Jimin stands up. “You need to be home before dark, right?”

“It’s not a big deal—”

He shakes his head. “It’s alright. You’ve finished cleaning today. I just need to close up and check the supplies.”

“But—” Your words die in your throat when Jimin pats your head.

“You’ve worked hard today,” he grins at you.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“I’m home,” you call out to no one in particular before you hear your mother from the kitchen.

Once you reach the kitchen, your mother turns her head to see you. “Help me set the table, dinner’s almost ready.”

Nodding, you follow suit. “Where’s Dad?”

“Your father is still caught in a meeting. He’ll be home late.”

“I see,” you mutter, placing the silverwares on the table.

“How’s work?” your mother asks. “You’re home earlier than usual.”

“It’s great,” you answer. “The boss lets me off early.”

And you continue to talk about your day. From helping Jimin bake cakes and bread early in the morning, serving customers coffee and desserts, cleaning up the whole place, and enjoying the hot chocolate Jimin bought you earlier.

“He sounds like a nice guy,” your mom muses when you both sit at the dinner table.

“He is.” A smile appears on your face, remembering his sweet gesture and warm presence. Then your mind shifts to the conversation you had earlier, and what has been bothering you lately. “Mom?”

“Hmm…?”

“Five years ago, how did I end up in the hospital?”

Your mother noticeably stiffens at your question, ceases digging through her plate of food.

“You and Dad never filled me in. You both kept on saying that my memories will return eventually… Until now actually.” You let out a breath. “I think I’m old enough to know what really happened.”

Letting out a deep breath herself, your mother puts down her fork. “What do you remember?”

“I was at a playground and hiding… Then there’s someone who came to find me.” Met with silence from your mother, you continue, “Was it one of my friends?”

Shaking her head, your mother answers, “It wasn’t any of your high school friends.”

“Then who…?”

“You never mentioned his name. But you’d always talk about him back then.” Your mother sighs. “Go through the attic when you’re having a day off. You’ll find some of your old stuff I hid there. Make sure your father is not home.”

Standing up, you want to go there at once. However, your mother stops you. “Y/N, listen to me. Whatever you find there, if you… If anything hurts or feels just too much, I want you to stop, alright? You’re a grown adult and I trust you’ll prioritise your own health.”

Nodding wordlessly, you finish the remaining food on your plate.

[ when you were fifteen years old: after the incident ]

When the dismissal bell rings, some students instantly scramble from their desks, some stretch lazily on their seats and have conversations with others.

“Hey, Y/N.” One of your classmates calls you, a smile etched on her face. “So glad to have you back.”

“Yeah! This sem has been a pain in the ass. You’ll get through it in a breeze!” Another classmate adds.

You respond with a grateful smile of your own before packing up your things.

It hasn’t been that long since you were released from the hospital. You have persistently insisted your parents to let you go back to school and they finally relented after you promised them that you’ll go straight back home and to not strain yourself after dismissing your parents’ idea of hiring a driver.

Today is your first day back. Your friends greeted you excitedly when you stepped into the classroom. Even those who you recall never talked much with you greeted you with a ‘Hi’.

Walking mindlessly through the streets of your neighbourhood, your legs take you to a cafe as you recognise the familiar scent of coffee.

Tilting your head in confusion, you stare at the cafe building in shades of black and brown.

What exactly are you doing here?

There were no planned meetups with your friends, yet, your body seems to find its way here. Fishing out your phone, you scan through the past messages to double check any planned hangouts.

It’s a Wednesday.

But…

With the curiosity nagging inside you, you search for Beomgyu’s contact.

[ 4:05 PM ] You: beomie, do you know the cafe near my place?

[ 4:05 PM ] Beomgyu: i guess?? Every wednesday you'd always go there for no apparent reason at all. When i wanted to tag along you’d always give me the devil eye :(

[ 4:05 PM ] You: oh… that’s… well, sorry lol. Do u wanna come here?

[ 4:06 PM ] Beomgyu: wait, r u srs ???

[ 4:06 PM ] You: i mean if u’re not busy and i think getting coffee and hanging in the cafe would be good.

[ 4:07 PM ] Beomgyu: i'd never thought this day would come :’) i’ll be there in 10.

Chuckling at your friend’s response, you place your phone back into your pocket. Exhaling, you enter the cafe and make your way towards the cashier register.

“Welcome, what would you like for today?” The person smiles at you.

“Caramel macchiato, please.”

She nods, typing in your order. “That will be four dollars.”

After exchanging your payment with a receipt, you wait at an empty table for two near the window. Something about this familiar place, however, feels off. Like there is something missing that you can’t seem to put your finger on.

Your thoughts are cut off when someone takes the seat across from you. “Why are you so deep in thought?”

Beomgyu stares at you quizzically as you blink in realisation. “Uh…”

He narrows his stare at you suspiciously before shifting his gaze around the cafe. “So, what is it that kept you going here?”

You shake your head in response. “I have no idea either. Honestly, I have this gut feeling to come here when I passed by earlier.”

“Hmm, maybe the coffee?” Beomgyu watches one of the waitresses bringing your orders, placing it on your table.

Sighing, you stare at the steaming cup with caramel drizzles on the foam for a few moments. Then you bring the cup to your lips to take a sip.

“Argh, why is this bitter?” Scrunching your nose, you motion towards the waitress for extra caramel.

“Did… Your taste buds change too? You said the caramel macchiato here is perfect.”

A snort escapes you as you drizzle more caramel into the coffee. “I got hit in the damn head, Beomie. It doesn’t change my taste buds.”

He shrugs. “Well, who knows. I never knew you like caramel that much.”

You freeze momentarily.

“Y/N? You okay?” Beomgyu waves a hand in front of your face.

“Y-yeah, I just…”

“You just…?”

Shaking your head once more, you whisper, “It’s nothing…” But your eyes scan through the busy workers in the cafe.

Deep inside, you had an inkling that the coffee here isn’t your sole reason for coming here.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Turns out you were right.

Once when you came into the cafe on another Wednesday, you sat at your usual place after ordering your usual drink.

“Oh, my dear, you’re finally back,” someone says.

Blinking, your gaze snaps to the elder woman — maybe around her mid fifties — and you give her a small smile before asking, “Do I know you...?”

It was her turn to look confused at your words.

“I’m really sorry for not recognising!” You grow flustered at your words. “I lost my memory in an accident a few months ago...”

“Oh, that’s awful!” The lady — a regular customer, you assume — gasps. “So that’s why you don’t frequent this cafe anymore. The young man looked so heartbroken before he quit his job—”

“Young man?”

“The barista, dear,” the lady replies. “You used to come here and meet him. I had to shush the both of you every time to not disturb the other customers.”

“I... Was he from my school?”

The lady shakes her head. “I don’t think so. He never wore a uniform like yours.”

“Do you know his name?”

The lady shakes her head once more. “His name was Park. Probably that’s his last name. At least that’s what is written on his name tag.”

And you internally groan. There are thousands of people with that last name.

“Do you know where he’s gone?”

“I’m afraid no, my dear. I heard he quit the job suddenly.”

Sighing, you thanked the lady before heading out of the cafe with your shoulders dropping in defeat.

The trapdoor makes a loud creaking sound when you lift it up, indicating that it hasn’t been used for a very long time. Slipping the key back to your back pocket, you step up further on the ladder with the trap door laying on another side as you go through it while the floorboards creak underneath your weight.

It didn’t take you long to locate your old things. Scanning through the boxes, you find one doodled in various flowers and rainbows with your name written on it as well.

With a grunt, you lift up the dusty box, bringing it down to the floor with a thud which causes you to cough at the flying dust. In an attempt to swat the dust away, you wave your hand in front of you. Still coughing uncontrollably with your eyes watering. After your cough ceases, you crouch and open the box. A few notebooks can be found inside along with some old dolls from your childhood.

You vaguely remember the locked diary you liked to write in about your day and its pale pink cover which was covered in sparkling stickers you used to be obsessed with.

Digging further through the books, you finally found it — the possible answer to your lost memories — with a small key dangling on the lock.

Climbing down from the attic, you made your way to your room while fumbling with the lock and key of your old diary. After successfully unlocking it, you take a seat on your padded window sill, flipping through the yellowing pages.

The first page was clearly written by you. Your old handwriting and your name. The first entry you wrote dates back to a decade ago.

Your fingers twitch at how cringe-y most of the entries are. Yet, at the same time you find it endearing how you used to write about your day. The good, the bad, and the normal things — appreciating just to be able to experience and get through them.

The last of your entries date back to months before the incident when you were fifteen. Probably because you decided that you were too old to write diaries any longer.

Recalling how you’d always visit the cafe every Wednesday, you skim through Wednesday entries. However one particular name seems to stand out in those entries.

“Mochi?” You flip from one entry to another. Who the hell is that?

Deciding to get to the bottom of this, you search for the earliest entry that you can find — nine years ago.

I met the hot choco guy again, today. I’m feeling so happy!!! He is so nice. why can’t any of the boys in my school be like him????

Hot... Choco? Furrowing your brows, you skip to the next Wednesday entry.

i am feeling so happy that mama brought me to the cafe last last week!!! she do not let me drink the coffee drink, so Mochi give me hot choco! i think it’s the best BEST drink EVER!!!

“How the hell did hot choco guy turn into Mochi?” you mumble to yourself, flipping through your diary to the next Wednesday entry.

Mochi teached me how to do math!!! It was so fun! But when Teacher Lee teaches me, it’s always boring. How did Mochi make math fun??? I wish he go to my school instead and teach me math :(

You internally cringe at your younger self. Exhaling, you press your temple in disbelief.

This whole diary of your younger self is basically gushing over this hot-choco-turned-Mochi guy as you flip through other pages. However, you stop at a certain entry.

Today… Is a very bad day. But Mochi suddenly makes it better.

Glancing at the date — it was the day your grandmother passed away.

He promises to make me cinnamon rolls whenever i tell him to! Just like Grannie… I’m sorry, Diary. I don’t think i can write more today. I just hope tomorrow will be a better day.

“Mochi…” you mumble repeatedly with furrowing brows and the name seems to trigger your brain to relive some memories.

“I’m calling you Mochi!” You hear your own twelve-year old voice. Yelping, your diary lands on the floor with a small thud.

“No!” Another voice rings in your head — familiar and warm. “That’s a really uncool nickname.”

“But you look like a mochi! And it’s not uncool! I think it’s really cute!”

Blinking, your mind brings you back to reality. Reaching down for your diary, you freeze momentarily before clutching your head. For a moment, your heart stops when your gaze lands on your diary’s open page — a drawing of a familiar shooting star.

Mochi is… Jimin?

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

[ when you were twelve ]

When another sigh escaped his lips, you glanced up from your math workbook — his face can only be described as perturbed. With no hesitance, you quietly pushed the last cookie on your plate to him, earning his glassy stare as it shifted from his notebook that’s lying open on the table.

He blinked a few times before clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you finish that? Do you want to bring it home?”

You shook your head, heat tinging your cheeks. “It’s for you. You look like you need it.”

“It’s caramel cookies.”

Nodding, you mumbled, “You said eating it can comfort people.”

The boy stared at you for a moment longer — recalling the time when you had a bad day and he gave you that, then he chuckled. “I guess I did.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded again. “I can order hot chocolate for you too.”

He reached for the last cookie, finally a small smile you have awaited appearing on his face. “This is enough, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Thanks.”

You beamed at his words, then you extended one hand to take his notebook and draw a shooting star on the page it was opened on.

“We can’t really see shooting stars in here,” you explain, pushing his notebook back to him. “So, whenever you’re having a hard time, wish on this shooting star! It represents hopes and wishes!”

“What that’s—” He stopped himself. Letting out a sigh, he found himself nodding despite how ridiculously endearing the idea was. “Alright. I will.”

The blare of your alarm jolts you awake. Groaning, you grab your phone, turning off the alarm when you realise you have to go to work. You can’t find it in yourself to see Jimin today. Not after finding out that he was, is, part of your missing childhood memories.

Your gaze lands on the diary, laying open on your window sill. As you read more and more of your diary entries, Mochi being Jimin just makes sense. You remember how he went out of his way just to buy you hot chocolate when you were having a bad day — just like in the past.

After all this time, Jimin is actually part of, no, in most of your childhood life.

And he denied it.

Why?

You continuously drift back to that one question. Why did he deny it when you asked him? Don’t people usually love to get reacquainted with their childhood friends?

Sighing, you message Jimin listlessly, telling him you aren’t feeling well before you turn off your phone completely. You don’t think you can handle interacting more with him.

Hours passed, when someone barges in your room. “Y/N!”

Peeking out from your blanket, you glare at your best friend. “What the fuck, Kook?”

“Jimin told me you aren’t feeling well. So, I came to check up on you.”

“Okay, you did. Now, go back home.”

Without responding, he opens the curtain in your room, letting in the piercing sunlight and you let out an annoyed ‘tsk’.

Should have known your best friend isn’t going to let this go easily.

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve been off the whole weekend. You may be able to trick Jimin but you can’t trick me.”

Still burying yourself under your blanket, the bed dips on your friend’s weight as he waits for your response. But you keep your silence, trying your best to even your breathing. You’ve cried enough after all.

“Hmm?” Jungkook stands up. “What’s this? Your diary?”

Abruptly, you fling yourself off the bed and grab your diary from his clutches.

“Go home, Jungkook. I’m not in the mood to deal with this.”

“You know I won’t until you tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m just...” Your shoulders droop in defeat. “Why?”

“Why what?”

You hate crying in front of anyone. But it’s as if a dam broke, your tears do not stop falling while you babble, “Why did he pretend to not know me? Why did he deny? Why—”

Jungkook blinks repeatedly at your sudden change. “W-wait! Why are you crying? I don’t under—”

“Park Jimin!” Your sudden outburst flusters him further. “The guy who you’re friends with and who you recommended for me to work with! That’s who!”

“But—”

“He‘s Mochi.”

Jungkook looks dumbfounded for a moment before your words register inside his head. “M-Mochi?”

Like a petulant child, you climb on your bed once more and hide your diary beneath your pillow. “Leave me alone, Kook.”

With a defeated sigh, Jungkook trudges out of your room, leaving you once again drowning in your thoughts.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Jimin has always loved mornings, especially when he is able to quietly bake on what most people would call ungodly hours. There is something enjoyable about being fully awake during this time when no sounds of passing vehicles can distract him, making him feel at ease.

He had started appreciating the little things in life when you — who once stared up at him with curious eyes, expression lightening up when he made a cup of hot chocolate for you — taught him to.

Chuckling to himself, his mind drifts back to the time you first entered his bakery. Gods, he should have known it was you. But you were so different, he could hardly comprehend how much you had grown.

Gone was your happy-go-lucky self. He was stunned when you suddenly snapped at him. Your younger self would probably respond with a smile and drone on about how much you love cinnamon rolls. For a second, his heart had hoped. Maybe you remembered him after all these years?

Yet that hope dissipated in an instant when you merely apologised and ran out. Moreover, you didn’t return to his bakery after buying the cinnamon rolls, he thought he had screwed things up by attempting to start a conversation with you. Or maybe that person wasn’t really you. Just someone who looks a lot like you. He still had his suspicions after all.

However, his suspicions were gone the moment you introduced yourself, leaving him speechless. Jimin would be lying if he said he didn’t hope — at least for a bit — that you would remember him when he mentioned his name.

That was why the moment you appeared once more to work as a part-timer, he was ecstatic. No words can explain it.

He started to look forward to work every day — coming to his own bakery to see you even when you didn’t remember him, but he would still gladly take whatever he can to be around you.

Once he sets the tray of unbaked cinnamon rolls into the oven, his phone buzzes. As soon as he reads the text, his heart drops a little.

[ 7:08 AM ] You: Sorry, I cant come to work today. Not feeling well.

He types, ‘That’s okay. get well soon, y/n :)’

But it left undelivered. Did your phone die? He wonders.

Jimin can’t help shake the weird feeling bubbling inside. So, he messages Jungkook.

[ 7:15 AM ] Jimin: y/n isn’t feeling well today. do u mind checking up on her ???

But of course, Jungkook didn’t read the message until a few hours later. That boy enjoys gaming all night.

[ 12:03 PM ] Jungkook: what?

[ 12:03 PM ] Jungkook: for real ?? since when does she get sick? that girl has a fucking high immunity. she never even once got a cold during the semester

Jimin furrowed his brows at that.

[ 12:04 PM ] Jimin: still, go check up on her pls. she’s ur friend too

[ 12:04 PM ] Jungkook: yeah, omw

It hasn’t even been an hour later when Jungkook rushes into the bakery — earning surprised and curious glances from the customers who were chattering among themselves. “Hyung—“ he catches his breath as he stands in front of the counter. “I think you need to fix—“ Huff. “—I mean go to Y/N’s house yourself.

Jimin blinks in confusion.

“You... You’re Mochi, aren’t you?”

At the mention of that name, blood drains from Jimin’s face instantly.

She remembers...?

“How did you—”

“What matters is, you need to fix it, hyung. You’re the only one who can. She’s not herself, right now. I've known her for a few years and it takes a lot for her to react like this. So, please, you should talk about it.”

“Okay,” Jimin breathes out. “Do you mind closing the cafe once the customers are all done?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, just go to her, hyung. I’ll handle everything here.”

[ when you were fifteen: before the accident ]

“I wish you can teach me math all the time, Mochi,” you giggle, leaning back on the cafe chair. “Everything is easier when you explain it.”

Jimin chuckles at that. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one not paying attention in class.”

Shaking your head rapidly, you deny, “Of course I paid attention! It’s just... I don’t know… It was really boring when my teacher was teaching. He just drones on and on without stopping.”

With an amused hum, Jimin stands up. “I’ll get ready to leave. I’ll walk you home.”

After a few minutes, you head out of the cafe with Jimin behind you. Shivering against the cool night air, you draw closer to the boy. Instinctively, Jimin offers you his open hand which you accepted with no hesitance.

Little did he know, every time he does this, it makes your heart beat a little faster at the way your hand fits well in his. And you savour it.

The build up of feelings has been going on for a while now. Maybe a few months. You’ve developed a crush on him. Like, how can you not? Jimin possesses charming qualities that no one else has. Not to mention how kind and warm of a person he is.

Meetings in the cafe had you wishing they were dates instead. And you had to let him know.

And tell him you did.

He blinks at first, words sinking into him. Mochi, I think I like you. Like, really, really like you.

His cheeks are pink, you weren’t sure if it's from the cold or his embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.”

Of course. What were you expecting? He only sees you as a little sister.

“No, that’s okay,” you reply quickly, but your heart drops. “It’s just… You know, I wanted to tell you know because you’re really cool, Mochi.”

“Y/N… Listen, this is not a good time—” Abruptly, he stops, catching your wrist on his. “I want you to hide in the playground.”

“What?”

“Hide, please. I will explain everything later.”

You want to run away from him. But the pleading look on his face makes you listen.

“There he is!” You hear an unfamiliar shout.

Cursing under his breath, Jimin quickly pushes you under the slide. “Wait here.”

With your own ragged breathing, you struggle to keep yourself as quiet as possible, biting down a hiss from the sting of your scraped knees. Tears pool in your eyes as you wait, hidden behind one of the playground’s slides and out of sight of any possible passerby.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

[ Present time ]

Jimin reaches your house, his heart beating fast against his chest with a box of cinnamon rolls in hand.

You are home alone and Jungkook has left the door unlocked.

Letting himself in, Jimin glances around. Everything still looks the same as back then. He went to your house once to tutor you. And he still can remember that day clearly.

Climbing up the stairs, he reaches your room. With shaking hands, he knocks on the door.

Silence.

A moment or two passes then your door opens. Jimin braces for the anger you’d throw at him.

But nothing comes.

You merely stand there, eyes glassy as they lock on his.

“Y/N...” He mutters, torn between to reach out or not. But you leave the door open as you sit on your bed. Jimin enters your familiar room, still surprised at how it still looks the same. And his eyes fall on a notebook — the notebook you never let him read — on the table.

“Why are you here?” you ask, voice trembling.

“I wanted to check up on you—”

“Why?”

Jimin knows at once what you are asking.

He approaches you sitting on the edge of the bed. He kneels down, peering up with those chocolate eyes of his to meet your downcast stare — like those times when he wants to talk to you and you refuse to look at him.

“Do… Do you still remember me?” Your voice barely comes out as a whisper.

“Y/N…” The lack of surprise in his voice answers it. He still remembers you as you recall the once shocked expression on his face when you first introduce yourself. Now, it all made sense.

“W-Why didn’t you tell me?” A sob escapes your lips. “Do you not want me to remember—”

He shakes his head, denying it quickly. “No! Of course not. I just… I was ecstatic actually when it was you who came to work for me.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” Voice cracking. “You knew me—”

Clearly in conflict, he sighs, “I don’t want you to remember your traumatic memories… Remembering me might cause you more pain.”

“But it didn’t. Those memories, from what I can remember there’s nothing—”

“That’s what your parents told me, Y/N.”

Eyes widening, you gape at him as tears cascade down your face.

“You were seriously injured back then. The doctor said it will be best for you to let your own memories come to you in their own time. And I had to leave this place... I came by after your operation and... I wanted to say goodbye but I was told it was best to not see you any longer to prevent anymore distress—”

“But you are important to me!” You cut him off. Then turning quieter, “You are important to me…”  You say between sobs.

Covering your eyes with your hand, you whimper when Jimin engulfs you in a hug. “I’m sorry…” He murmurs, caressing your head. “I’m so sorry…”

His heart breaks at your current state, tightening his hold on you, who’s crying into his chest. Years of buried regret and longing resurface. He had envisioned many times on how you would remember him. But he fails to realise how much it can hurt you when your memories return. If only he can turn back time, he will take that chance to save you from the misery of your memory loss.

Yet, all he can do now is to hold you close, begging you for forgiveness and hope that you’d let him stay by your side.

“So, let me get this straight, you—” Jungkook points his straw at you. “—and Jimin hyung were childhood friends—” He pierces the plastic cover of his milk tea. “—and he used to tutor you in a cafe.”

Nodding, you purse your lips and enjoy your own drink.

You had taken a few days off after the reconciliation to collect your thoughts and confront your parents about what had happened. They have come into terms with their protectiveness of you staying out very late. And you have managed to convince them to let you stay out late as long as you let them know.

You were planning to stay in bed all day if it wasn’t for Jungkook who barged into your room like he owns the place, after he claimed that Jimin lets him off from work early — which you doubt honestly, it’s more of Jungkook escaping from work — and decided to drag you to the nearest milk tea shop.

“Is something weird?” you blurt out.

“Did you by any chance, I don’t know...” Jungkook mutters. “Have feelings for each other?”

You nearly choke on your tapioca pearl and rapidly you shake your head. “No! That’s—”

Jungkook narrows his stare at you, sipping his drink as you continue to blabber, “I mean, I knew him since I was like, what? Twelve? He never sees me that way.”

“Maybe he didn’t back then.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean both of you are adults now. Aren’t things different?”

You snort at his words. “He always sees the little girl in me, Jungkook. So, please, don’t make things weird, alright? I can literally see your head gearing.”

Jungkook lets out a sigh. “Alright, if you say so. But how about you?”

Sipping your drink, you lift a brow at him.

“Do you like him?”

“Of course, I do.”

“I meant like, like him.”

“Kookie, what are you? Five?”

He snorts at your response. “Five heads taller than you—” Your glare shuts him up. “Okay, but do you see him as someone special?”

An exasperated sigh escapes your lips. “Why are we discussing this? We’re just friends. Who coincidentally are childhood friends as well.”

“You sure?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh once more. “What are you expecting me to say?”

“What do you think of him?”

Almost at once, the words flow easily out of your mouth. “He’s a caring person and he knows how to comfort someone when they’re having a bad day.”

“You mean, he knows how to comfort you when you’re having a bad day yourself,” Jungkook chuckles.

You blink at that.

“Look, I’m not implying anything but he was worried as hell when I told him about you the other day. Even nearly left his bakery without supervision. That’s when yours truly—” He points at himself. “—came in.”

And the question that swims in the back of your mind disappears. “So, it is you, you overgrown rabbit. You told him about me—”

“Well, you can’t blame me. You should be thanking me instead. It’s because of me you both finally reconciled. Admit it, you’re happy — happier, in fact.”

And you can’t deny it. Jungkook has been one of those people who’d look out for you. Yes, even when he can be a pain in the ass sometimes, or just loves to hear the “piping hot” tea of what’s happening in your life.

Sighing in defeat, you murmur, “Even if I do like him...” You shake your head. “No, it shouldn’t even matter in the first place.”

Noticing your shuttering expression, Jungkook thankfully does not press the subject further. Nor does he question why. And you are grateful for him.

“Interesting. So, you do like him.”

Scratch that, your best friend is still a pain in the ass.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Standing in front of the bakery cafe, you released a deep breath.

Through the glass door, Jungkook is helping out at the cashier counter, serving beverages and desserts to dine-in customers. However, Jimin is nowhere in sight.

Releasing a deep breath, the bell of the door rings which signals your entrance. Jungkook notices you at once before he points to the kitchen.

You rush inside — stopping abruptly a few steps away from him — now, regarding the man differently. He was the boy who has been your comfort for so many occasions after all.

Jimin is icing cupcakes, his eyes focusing on his task and you can’t help but smile at the sight.

With your memories — of kindness, warmth, and friendship — now fully returned, you remember how you were always enamoured watching Jimin work. You’d watch him make drinks in the cafe when you had no homework to do. You’d sit at the bar, munching on cookies-of-the-day as your eyes followed Jimin’s movements.

A few moments pass, Jimin’s gaze shifts to you briefly and double-takes. He curses under his breath, cupcake slipping from his grip — icing spilling on the marble counter. “Hey, you’re back—” He quickly grabs a cloth and wipes off the cream before he turns to face you properly, grinning from ear-to-ear. “—you didn’t tell me you’re coming in today.”

He opens his arms and your legs move of its own accord, following your instinct as you close the distance between you and him — wrapping your arms around his waist.

You weren’t surprised at how your younger self used to have a big fat crush on him. He was and always will still be your Mochi. The guy who treated you to your favourite sweets, who knows how you like your caramel macchiato the best, and who never fails to put butterflies in your stomach.

Breathing his sweet scent, you remember the time you’d ask him for hugs whenever you were down and your younger self had even claimed once that his hugs were magical as it was written in your diary. To quote it, “Mochi gives the BEST BEST hugs in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD”.

“Your hugs…” you mumble, eyes closed. “They’re still the best…”

Jimin merely tightens his hold on you. That is until a force — appearing in the form of Jeon Jungkook — shatters the serene atmosphere, bringing you back to reality. “Hyung! Oh—”

Abruptly, you both pull away from each other. Jungkook stands awkwardly, shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“What is it?” Jimin breaks the silence, composed as ever.

“Uh, need more cupcakes. The ones on the display are finished…”

“Right,” Jimin turns to you. “Y/N, can you help me ice the rest of the cupcakes?”

Nodding, you turn to the employee’s room, putting your things in the locker and grabbing an apron.

Hugging Jimin seems so natural that you fail to consider how weird it looks to the people around you. Jungkook’s awkward silence proves that.

Your thoughts are swimming in confusion. And once again those butterflies appear in your stomach. Fanning your heated cheeks with your hands, you take a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

Your childhood crush is gone. You’re just happy to have Mochi back in your life. That’s all. That should be all.

One afternoon, you mindlessly clean up the kitchen. Due to the public holiday, the bakery is closing earlier, and your thoughts have drifted back to the past.

You remember the night of the incident when Jimin walked you home after he had lost those men who chased after him. He stopped you for a moment, breaking the silence. “You okay?” Warm concern lacing his tone.

Jaw clenching, you mumbled. “Just a scratch.” Reluctant to give him any longer response.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have shoved you harshly before.” He crouched, inspecting your knees before he peered up to meet your stare.

“It’s fine.”

When you were just a few blocks away from home, Jimin broke the silence. “Listen Y/N—” His footsteps faltered as he reached to touch your shoulder. “—about earlier, I think you shouldn’t have feelings for me, I—”

Abruptly, you pulled your hand away from his, hurt consuming you. “I shouldn’t have feelings for you?”

You wished Jimin had forgotten your spontaneous confession as he nodded, hesitantly.

“Well, I can’t control my feelings. So, just let it be. It’ll be fine.” You glanced at him before walking faster.

The rest of the trip home was tense, full of unanswered questions. Who were those men? Why did they chase after Jimin? Is it really that bad to have feelings for him? Who gave him the right to dictate your feelings?

You felt so childish back then. Recalling the memories makes you cringe at your younger self for overreacting. But you suppose it’s normal for a fifteen year-old girl. And you were able to sense that Jimin wanted to ease the tense atmosphere. But you were too hurt to even give him a chance. You needed time to process what happened that day.

However, one minute Jimin had stopped you again, desperate to appease you. And the next minute, someone ran towards him with a bat in hand. It’s as if time slowed down, you moved before a harsh impact landed on you.

Your mind brings you back to reality, and instinctively you touch the part where your head was struck with your free hand.

“Y/N? Are you done cleaning up?”

Jimin’s voice startles you and you nearly drop the mop’s handle from your grasp.

“Yes,” you manage to say. And somehow you can’t look at him in the eye.

“What’s wrong?” Out of instinct, he cups your face to look at you in the eye. And hell, your heartbeat gradually increases as you can smell the sweet scent of bread from him along with a tinge of his cinnamon scent.

Mind blanking out at the close proximity, the only intelligible response you can say is, uhhh. Your grip on the mop handle tightens as your palm grows clammy.

He’s gorgeous. That’s one thing for sure.

“Hey, why are you blushing?”

Blinking rapidly, you watch his eyes turn into those crescent moons and a giggle escapes his lips as he pulls away, grabbing the mop from your hold.

“I’ll put this back. You nearly snapped it in half, you know.”

“Yeah,” you nod, mind whirling and you blabber the first thing in your mind. “I have a pet fish.”

“Huh?”

Realising how random you sounded, you clear your throat. “I just remember I had to come home early today, since Mr. Goldy is waiting for me.”

“Ooh, that’s—”

But you’ve run for the lockers, quickly changing out of your work attire.

“Thanks for today, Mochi. See you tomorrow!” You say and run out of the bakery without sparing him another glance.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“What are you exactly doing here?”

Unflinching, you answer your best friend monotonously, “Buying a fish.”

“You don’t have a tank at home.”

“Exactly, that’s why I’m looking for one now.”

“But why?”

“Why not?”

Jungkook lets out a sigh. “You’ve been acting weird all week, Y/N.”

You ignore his words, eyes scanning through the fishes of different colours and kinds.

“Oh! These ones are pretty.” Jungkook comments, earning your attention.

“Excuse me?” You call one of the workers there. “I was wondering if this fish is suitable for beginners.”

The worker nods, smiling. “Yes, these are what we call the Betta fish. Their scales are beautiful and they are also easy to take care of. Would you like to purchase them?”

You respond with a brief ‘yes’.

“Now, all you need is a tank,” Jungkook says.

“We provide delivery services for the tank. I’d recommend buying this one.” The worker points at one of the tanks. “In the meantime, you can purchase the fishbowl for now.”

And with that you have a new pet fish and a brand new fish bowl in hand — specifically Jungkook’s, because you gotta put those muscles into good use — and you head back home. On the way back, Jungkook suddenly clears his throat. “So… What’s up with you?”

“What?”

“Let me summarise what just happened,” he says. “I had the day off today, and suddenly you called me to meet you in a fish store, and you have been acting all weird and somehow out of all the nice shades of blue fishes in the tank, you chose the ugly yellow—”

You kick his shin in retaliation. “It’s not yellow, it’s gold, dumbass. How dare you say that in front of Lady Goldilocks.”

“Oh, wow, now it even has a name.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I seriously can’t believe you chose this one out of all the other colours. It reminds me of Jimin hyung—” And he gapes at you. “No way. Is it because he likes this colour?”

You blink in realisation. Jimin does like this colour.

“Okay, ‘fess up. What’s up with you?”

You let out a defeated sigh. “I like him.”

Jungkook looks unamused.

“I mean like, like him. And I need to get over him.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Why would Hyung want that?””

“I shouldn’t like him, Kook. He told me once and, I don’t know, I just can’t control my feelings. I don’t want to lose him again and I’m scared that he’ll be gone if he knows—”

“Wait, wait, wait—” Jungkook grasps your shoulder with his free hand. “—I can understand what you’re feeling, Y/N. How about let me prove to you that Jimin won’t be gone even when you have feelings for him?”

“I swear, Jeon Jungkook, if you utter a single word about this conversation—”

“No!” He denies repeatedly. “I won’t. Promise. I can prove it to you another way. Don’t worry.”

“Okay, then. How?”

“I have a plan. To take the title as your number one best friend once and for all—”

“Who says you are even at the top?”

“Aren’t I? You told me once.” Jungkook fishes his phone out of his jacket, taps a few times on his screen before he shows you a video of your drunk self a few months ago after exam week.

“Kookieee, I think you’re my number one best friend! So proud to have someone like you in my life—”

You try to reach for his phone, cheeks burning in embarrassment, as you shoot him the nastiest glare you can muster. However, Jungkook being Jungkook merely cackles at that. Your voice from the video still continues, “—you’re like Mochi—” Your present self tenses at that.

“Who’s Mochi?” Jungkook asked curiously in the video.

“Shhhhh… We don’t speak of that name here, m’kay? Mochi is gone. So you are best friend number one!”

Jungkook stops the video, tucking his phone back to his pocket. “I asked you once who Mochi was when you were sober. But you didn’t remember back then. So I never asked again until you mentioned the name ‘Mochi’ once more a few days ago.”

Gaping, you stop walking as the stunned silence falls over you.

“I think your subconscious had always known about him. And it shows how special he is to you.” When you’re about to deny that, Jungkook shushes you. “Don’t try to deny, Y/N. Even before you knew he was Mochi you already liked him.”

“I hate that you’re starting to look like a rooster. Were you always this cocky?”

Your best friend merely shrugs. “So, here’s the plan. As I was saying, with my ‘number one best friend’ title under threat, we’re going to demote Jimin as your boyfriend! It’s a win-win situation!”

“What? I never even asked for him to be my boyfriend but wait— Don’t you mean promote?”

“Y/N, as much as I love your dumb ass, you tend to be quite demanding with people. Hopefully, he knows how to handle your present self.”

“Jeon Jungkook, please don’t make me regret this.”

A few days after the conversation with Jungkook, the boy gets to work as fast as possible, and by work, it means work to get on Jimin’s nerves instead of actually being helpful in the cafe.

Jungkook has become noticeably clingy, or overall, just more touchy with you. It’s not like it’s anything new in all honesty. Throughout college, the relationship between the both of you is purely platonic. Your other college friends knew this and seeing the both of you cuddle wouldn’t be a strange sight. Jimin, however, isn’t one of your college friends and Jungkook seems to have taken advantage of this. Thus, he begins to work in the bakery almost every day, claiming just to see you.

At first Jimin showed no reaction since Jungkook is a good friend of his. But he has grown visibly irritated lately while Jungkook revels in pressing the older one’s buttons further.

“Jungkook…”

“Hmm?”

“Can you please stop invading my personal space?”

“But it’s not going to work if I don’t— Oof!” You shove him away before going back to your task — placing the cupcakes on the display tray — annoyance building up at Jungkook’s disruptions.

“I’m going to file a restraining order on you at this rate.”

He huffs, moving towards you once more. “Don’t you want to prove that Jimin is going to be pissed if he sees me being affectionate to you?”

You shake your head. “I just want to work in peace.”

“Hmph. You’re no fun.”

“Cuz you’re the one not working.”

“Hey, I’m helping here voluntarily.”

You ignore his words, focusing on your task while Jungkook starts whining for you to give him attention. “Kook, I fucking swear if you don’t get your hands off—”

Jimin’s voice rings “Y/N, are the cupcakes...” He trails as soon as he enters the kitchen, freezing at the sight of Jungkook wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling his dumb head on the crook of your neck.

“He’s going to rage,” Jungkook whispers, laughing softly.

“Uh, Jungkook can I talk to you?” Jimin asks, eyes noticeably narrowing as his tone tenses.

“Finally,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, before he lets go of you and faces Jimin. “Sure, Hyung.”

You take that cue to leave, bringing the freshly iced cupcakes to the display counter, leaving Jungkook and Jimin alone in the kitchen.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“What’s been going on with you lately? You come here to work everyday but all I can see is you busy flirting with Y/N.” Jimin throws the younger one an unamused glare.

Jungkook answers easily, “I do my job, Hyung. And so what if I do flirt with Y/N?”

“You can’t,” Jimin blurts out, earning a questioning look from Jungkook. “You just can’t.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Do you like Y/N?”

“Of course, she’s my best friend.”

Jimin shoots Jungkook another unamused look at his answer.

“I’m going to tell her how I feel in three days,” Jungkook continues.

Jimin’s stomach drops at that statement. However, at the same time the urge to let you know how he truly feels increases. But the thought of the impending rejection after hurting you and causing your memory loss makes him think twice.

Maybe Jungkook deserves you more than him — he can protect and support you while Jimin has failed.

With a shaky breath, Jimin mutters, “Take care of her, alright?”

Obviously, his response catches Jungkook off guard. “What?”

“Take good care of Y/N, JK. I’m seriously counting on you.”

“Wait—“ Jungkook looks downright flustered at the unexpected response. “Hyung, wait.”

“What?” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be confused.

Jungkook clears his throat. “Just give me an honest answer, hyung. No lies.”

A pause.

“Do you like Y/N? As in more than friends?”

Jimin nods without hesitance.

Jungkook mumbles something under his breath that Jimin is sure it sounds like, freaking idiots.

“Go tell her how you feel, Hyung. And tell her as soon as possible.”

“But you—”

“It’s to push you to confess to her. I don’t see Y/N that way.” Jungkook sighs. “Honestly, what would the both of you be without me?”

Jimin stands in the kitchen, speechless, as Jungkook continues to ramble how significant his role is in between your relationship and how you and Jimin owe him so much.

“So, yes, go tell her how you feel, hyung. She’ll listen to whatever you’ll say.”

With a newfound resolve, hope sparks in Jimin’s heart. “I will.”

To say that Jimin is nervous would be an understatement. He had barely slept a wink last night, thinking of all the words and how he would explain why he had left so suddenly and confess his feelings to you. Jungkook has been a supportive friend, even if he does push Jimin’s buttons along the way. However, Jimin knows that it was his own way of showing encouragement.

You are cleaning the rest of the tables of the cafe and Jimin can’t take his eyes off you, staring at you through the small window opening between the kitchen and the counter area.

“Are we done for today, Mochi?” Your voice snaps him out of his daydream.

“Yeah!” Jimin continues to wipe the kitchen counter quickly, replying almost too enthusiastically before he clears his throat. “Do you have plans tonight, Y/N?”

You enter the kitchen and once again Jimin’s heartbeat rises. “Nope. I’m going straight back home after this. Lady Goldilocks is waiting for me.”

Lady Goldilocks. Jimin chuckles at the mention of your fish’s name. He wonders if one day he’s able to see the pet fish for himself. He had asked what happened to Mr Goldy and you had become flustered at that since you didn’t know the fish was female. So, now, you have changed the fish’s name. Yet, somehow Jimin got an inkling that there is more to the story. He had asked Jungkook — to which the boy had valiantly refused to utter a word about it and had babbled, “Huh? Fish? What fish? Is that for dinner?”

Once the both of you finished closing up the bakery cafe, Jimin taps on your shoulder before you had the chance to go back home.

“May I walk you home?”

You blink, processing his words then nodding rapidly. “S-Sure.”

Jimin smiles warmly at you. It’s easy in fact. Just being in your presence always brings happiness into his heart. You had grown into an amazing person and even more attractive.

Something about you had always captivated Jimin since the first time you met him in the cafe where he used to do his part time work. Your curious eyes were always following him as he took the customers’ orders and honestly, it was very endearing.

Comfortable silence falls upon you both, walking through the asphalt pathway and naturally, Jimin opens his palms, extending it towards you.

You stare at that for a moment and clasp his hand with yours. Jimin weaves your fingers together, bringing you closer to him as you continue to walk back home.

“Do you mind if we take a little detour?”

You nod at his words.

Once Jimin reaches the destination, he can sense your eyes glance curiously at the empty hill. He pulls you up onto the top of the hill, sitting down on the grass while he pats the space next to him and you follow suit.

“Look up,” Jimin whispers, and you did.

A quiet gasp escapes your lips at the sight of twinkling stars that scatters across the dark sky.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Jimin voices out. “Someone made me realise how beautiful the stars are…” He falters. “A-And she had never left my mind all those years. One of my deepest regrets is that I wasn’t able to say goodbye when I had to leave.”

You hear his words, yet you stay silent — an encouragement for him to continue to speak what’s on his mind.

“My family was in a difficult financial position back then and my dad had done things I wasn’t proud of…” Jimin’s eyes turn glassy and faraway, even when he sets his gaze up. “And one of them is that he had made a deal with loan sharks without the guarantee of paying them back… And of course, they were angry.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath.

“I once thought that probably I could still stay here back then. Even more so when I met you. But I was wrong. Those men started to chase after me and because of that, you—” He shudders. “—got injured. And that night my parents had made plans to leave without me and my brother knowing.”

He turns to look at you. “I never got to apologise to you for causing that. I should be the one to protect you but… I failed. For that, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Jimin…” You say softly. “It’s not your fault. I was the one who jumped in front of you when the man came after you. It’s my own choice because you are special to me.”

“But I could have—”

You shush him with a pointer finger in front of his lips for a few moments. “You don’t have to be sorry anymore, Mochi. It’s not your fault. And what matters now is to focus on the present and look to the future, right?”

He nods, emotions swimming inside his chocolate eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought—”

“For telling you that you shouldn’t have feelings for me.”

And you lapse into silence. He remembers…?

“I hate that that has hurt you. I shouldn’t have said that. But I was happy but desperate too since my family—”

“Jimin.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“What do you see me as, now?”

He blinks. All the practiced words on how he would tell you his feelings dissipate from his mind as he blankly stares at you. “I… I like you.” His voice grows quieter. “More than friends…”

“And if I said you shouldn’t have feelings for me?”

A flash of hurt crosses his eyes briefly. But he answers, nonetheless, “I would do what you want.”

“So, you reciprocate my feelings now?”

“H-huh?”

“I like you too. More than friends. In fact, I think my feelings have grown for you ever since I found out you’re Mochi.”

It takes a few moments for Jimin to process your words. He gapes, mouth opening and closing.

“You are resembling Lady Goldilocks right now.”

“What?”

Your cheeks flush. “Lady Goldilocks is a Betta fish. She was the golden one in a tank full of her blue siblings. Jungkook tried persuading me to choose the blue ones since they were more attractive to look at. But all I could see is the gold one since it reminded me of you.”

“I like golden colours…” Jimin mumbles in realisation.

“Exactly,” you let out a sheepish laugh, eyes turning to look back up into the sky. Before Jimin can respond, your eyes brighten up. “Look! A shooting star!”

Jimin snaps his gaze up as well.

“Hurry, make a wish!” You then close your eyes, smiling from ear-to-ear. Jimin follows suit, making his own wish.

As soon as you both finish making your wishes, you turn to face him once more.

“Are you still sorry for saying that to me?”

Jimin nods, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. Hell, he thinks he would always regret hurting you that time.

“I know how you can make it up to me then.”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

“W-What?” He splutters.

“Unless you don’t want—“ Yet, your words die on your throat as Jimin moves closer to you, eliminating the distance between you both as he cups your face just like that time in the bakery.

Without another word, he leans down, pressing his lips on yours softly while you place your hands on top of his before he presses further, brows furrowing as he kisses you fervently. For the time being, all that matters is just you and him. He caresses your cheeks and you run your hands down to wrap around his waist until you can feel his heart beating against his chest.

After pulling away — both of you catching your breaths — Jimin presses his forehead against yours, running his thumb over your lips while you were unable to open your eyes for a few moments at the burst of emotions that is coursing through you.

“I’ve imagined this moment so many times,” he admits. “My wish finally came true.” And you smile at that.

“My wish also came true because of you, Mochi...”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Sitting on one of the tables, your eyes can’t take themselves off Jimin as he serves customers. Today is your day off and you decided to pay him a visit in the bakery.

“You’re drooling.”

Your gaze snaps up to your best friend who sits across you after placing a cinnamon roll on the table for you. Jungkook continues, “I swear I’m going to vomit one of these days if I see you or Jimin hyung throwing each other— what was that called? It’s an old term— Oh! Goo-goo eyes one more time.”

“Shut up, Jeon. I’m not.” You reach for the roll, taking a bite.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah right, you basically either stare at him like he placed stars in the sky or like you want to tear off his clothes—”

You choke on the roll, quickly reaching for your glass of water before you throw your napkin at his face. Jungkook cackles at that before he resumes his act, sighing. “This is a mistake. I shouldn’t have intervened. I didn’t know you’d be like this. My best friend is so uncool now.”

“Y/N is what?” You perk up at Jimin’s voice.

“Whipped,” Jungkook mutters before he takes his cue to leave. He stands up, passing by Jimin after shooting the older one a teasing glance.

Jimin sits across from you, and he instinctively reaches for your hand on the table. “How was your day?” And you swear you can hear Jungkook making a gagging sound amidst the chatter of the customers.

“Good. I finished my chores at home earlier today. So, I thought I would come visit.”

Minutes pass by quickly as you chatter with Jimin. He had almost forgotten to go back to work until Jungkook reminded him. When it is time to close up the bakery, you watch him wash the remaining mixing bowls while perching on one of the cleaned counters of the kitchen.

“You know, I could use some help,” Jimin teases, drying his hands on his apron.

A smile curls up on the corner of your lips, eyes following his movements — drawing closer to where you are. “Well, I think you got it all handled, Mochi.”

Once he reaches you, he pulls you to wrap your legs around his waist while your arms rest on his shoulders — encircling around his neck. You both stare at each other and he pushes a strand of stray hair away from your face, tucking it behind an ear while his other hand settles on your waist.

“Sometimes, I still can’t believe that you’re really here with me,” You admit. “Just like a sweet dream.”

Jimin shakes his head. “It’s not, Y/N...” He leans to give you a chaste kiss. “... we’ll make up for the lost time we didn’t spend together.”

“Promise?”

He softly smiles at you. “Promise.”

author’s note: this was originally intended to be posted on jimin’s birthday but well i decided to add more stuff in it. thus, i am late alskflsdda so yes, i hope you guys enjoy this fic and feedbacks are always appreciated !! thank you for reading ♡

[performingonline]

Performance for Multi-User Online Environments (Before COVID-19)

I’m Angela Washko and I am currently teaching a course called Performance Art (In The Expanded Field) at Carnegie Mellon University and have recently had to switch to teaching remotely - a switch that comes maybe more naturally to me than others because of my experience participating in the net art community and operating as a performance artist specifically within online environments. Before everyone was forced to work remotely because of an international pandemic, many artists were already thinking about the internet as a context for performance art.  I wanted to put together a resource focused on artists who have been doing the work of thinking about the specificity of virtual spaces as sites for performance and making work mindful of the unique qualities of the contexts they operate in. I hope that this list of works could be a resource for educators and artists who are interested in looking at artworks by individuals who have been thinking very intentionally about performance in networked contexts.

This list includes artists performing for webcam, artists performing in virtual environments, and artists performing for social media. It specifically focuses on performance, and excludes works of net art that do not contain performance-for-the-internet.  The list also primarily focuses on performance works that are made without the use of expensive equipment or access to institutional spaces (although I know there are some exceptions on this list). Also - it is in no way complete or comprehensive! 

*This list does not include the many artists who perform for video and upload their performances online - UNLESS the artist is specifically thinking about engaging with the digital audience and not prioritizing the gallery as a context. 

**Sexually explicit or violent content that may be uncomfortable for some viewers and situations

Annie Abrahams and Emmanuel Guez, Reading Club (video conferencing)

Annie Abrahams, Daniel Pinheiro and Lisa Parra, DistantFeeling(s) (Zoom)

Annie Abrahams, Ruth Catlow, Paolo Cirio, Ursula Endlicher, Nicolas Frespech and Igor Stromajer, Huis Clos / No Exit (video conferencing)

Larry Achiampong & David Blandy, Finding Fanon 2 (Grand Theft Auto V)

Robert Adrian, The World in 24 Hours (networked happening)

LaTurbo Avedon, Visiting Artist Talk (multi platform)

Jeremy Bailey, various performances by Famous New Media Artist Jeremy Bailey (YouTube)

Jeremy Bailey, The You Museum (online advertising banners)

Man Bartlett, 24hr non-Best Buy (Twitter)

Genevieve Belleveau, Gorgeoustaps and The Reality Show (Facebook)

Wafaa Bilal, Domestic Tension (livestream website)

Wafaa Bilal, Virtual Jihadi (Quest for Saddam game)

Mary Bond, autodissociate me (4chan)**

Marco Cadioli, Remap Berlin (Second Life, Google Maps, Twinity)

micha cárdenas, Becoming Dragon (Second Life)

Ruth Catlow and Helen Kaplinsky, Sociality-machine (video conferencing, custom software)

Ruth Catlow, Marc Garrett and Neil Jenkins, VisitorStudio (custom software for online performance)

Jennifer Chan, factum/mirage (Chat Roulette)**

Jennifer Chan, factum/mirage III (Chat Roulette)**

Channel TWo [CH2], barelyLegal (Google Maps)

Corpos Informaticos, Telepresence 2 (telepresence project)

Petra Cortright, VVEBCAM (YouTube)

Jeff Crouse and Aaron Meyes, World Series of ‘Tubing (Competitive YouTube-ing)

James Coupe, General Intellect (Amazon Mechanical Turk)

Joseph DeLappe, dead-in-iraq (America’s Army)

Joseph DeLappe, The Salt Satyagraha Online: Gandhi's March to Dandi in Second Life (Second Life)

Joseph DeLappe, Howl: Elite Force Voyager Online (Elite Force Voyager Online)

Joseph DeLappe, Quake Friends (Quake III Arena)

Kate Durbin, Unfriend Me Now! (Facebook Live)

Kate Durbin, Cloud Nine (Cam4)**

Electronic Disturbance Theater, FloodNet (Java applet)

Entropy8Zuper! (Auriea Harvey and Michaël Samyn), WIREFIRE (Flash 5)

Entropy8Zuper! (Auriea Harvey and Michaël Samyn), skinonskinonskin (multi platform)

Jason Eppink, Kickback Starter (website, Kickstarter)

Cao Fei, RMB City (Second Life)

Mary Flanagan, [borders] (Second Life)

Foci + Loci, many projects (Little Big Planet 2)

Ed Fornieles, Dorm Daze (Facebook)

Carla Gannis, C.A.R.L.A G.A.N. (virtual environments and social media platforms)

Riley Harmon, Poser (Andy Warhol’s Grave Livecam)

Amber Hawk Swanson, Sidore (Mark) / Heather > LOLITA (livestream)**

Josh Harris, We Live In Public / Quiet (livestream)

Auriea Harvey, Webcam Movies (webcam)

Ann Hirsch, Scandalishious (YouTube)

Ann Hirsch, horny lil feminist (website)**

Faith Holland, Porn Interventions (RedTube)**

Shawné Michaelain Holloway, a personal project (XTube)**

Shawné Michaelain Holloway, b4bedwithurlbae (Periscope)**

Brian House, Joyride (Google Maps)

Brian House, Tanglr (Google Chrome extension)

E. Jane, E. The Avatar (YouTube, online store)

E. Jane, That time I sold my dreads online (ebay)

JODI, SK8MONKEYS ON TWITTER (Twitter)

Miranda July, Learning to Love You More (website)

Devin Kenny, Untitled/Celfa (webcam performance)

Laura Hyunjhee Kim, The Living Lab (social media, website)

Gelare Khoshgozaran and Nooshin Rostami, Just Like A Disco (webcam)

Gelare Khoshgozaran, Misscommunication (webcam)

Gelare Khoshgozaran, Realms of Observation (Chat Roulette)

Lynn Hershman Leeson, The Dollie Clone Series (webcam livestream)

Olia Lialina, Animated GIF Model (multiple webpages)

Olia Lialina, Self-Portrait (browser)

Olia Lialina, Summer (multiple webpages)

Jordan Wayne Long, Box Shipment #2 (Lord of the Rings Online)

Gretta Louw, Controlling Connectivity (Skype and others)

Low Lives, Virtual Performance Series (livestream)

Michael Mandiberg, Shop Mandiberg (ecommerce site)

Eva and Franco Mattes, Freedom (Counter-Strike Source)

Eva and Franco Mattes, Life Sharing (website)

Eva and Franco Mattes, No Fun (Chat Roulette)**

Eva and Franco Mattes, Re-Enactments (Second Life)

Eva and Franco Mattes, Synthetic Performances (Second Life)

Lauren McCarthy, Follower (artist-made app)

Lauren McCarthy, LAUREN (livestream surveillance)

Lauren McCarthy, Social Turkers (Amazon Mechanical Turk)

Lauren McCarthy, SOMEONE (webcam)

MTAA, 1 year performance video (aka SamHsiehUpdate) (livestream)

Jayson Musson / Hennessy Youngman, Art Thoughtz (YouTube)

Martine Neddam, Mouchette (website)

Mendi and Keith Obadike, Blackness for Sale (ebay)

Marisa Olson, Marisa’s American Idol Training Blog (blog)

Randall Packer & Systaime, #NeWWWorlDisorder (Facebook Live and website)

Sunita Prasad, Sunny & Benny Together Forever (My Free Implants website)

Jon Rafman, Kool Aid Man in Second Life (Second Life)

Bunny Rogers, 9 Years (Second Life)

Stephanie Rothenberg, Invisible Threads (Second Life)

Stephanie Rothenberg, Best Practices In Banana Time (Second Life)

Annina Ruest, A Piece of the Pie Chart (Twitter, webcam)

Annina Ruest, Rock N Scroll (Skype)

Nicole Ruggerio, AR Filters (Instagram)

RaFia Santana, #PAYBLACKTiME (Facebook and Paypal)

Anne-Marie Schleiner, Joan Leandre, Brody Condon, Velvet Strike (Counter-Strike)

Leah Schrager, Sarah White - Naked Therapy (video chat)**

Skawennati, TimeTraveller ™ (Second Life)

Molly Soda, various projects (multi platform)

Georgie Roxby Smith, Fair Game (Grand Theft Auto V)

Georgie Roxby Smith, 99 Problems [Wasted] (Grand Theft Auto V)**

Eddo Stern, Fort Paladin (America’s Army)

Eddo Stern, Runners (Everquest)

Tale of Tales, ABIOGENESIS (Endless Forest)

Third Faction, Demand Player Sovereignty (World of Warcraft)

Toca Loca, Halo Ballet (Halo)

Amalia Ulman, Excellences and Perfections (Instagram, Facebook)

VNS Matrix, Corpusfantastica MOO (MOO - multi-object oriented multi user dungeon)

Addie Wagenknecht & Pablo Garcia, Webcam Venus (sexcam sites)**

Angela Washko, BANGED: A Feminist Artist Interviews the Web’s Most Infamous Misogynist (Skype)

Angela Washko, The Council on Gender Sensitivity and Behavioral Awareness in World of Warcraft (World of Warcraft)

Angela Washko, The World of Warcraft Psychogeographical Association (World of Warcraft)

Brett Watanabe, San Andreas Deer Cam (Twitch, Grand Theft Auto San Andreas)

[tony-zivalove]

Scorpio Shenanigans

Notes: Thanks to Rachel @wanna-be-bold for being my beta on this. It means a lot. I hope you enjoy this.

I've been having this scene hit me in waves all week. I actually took a notebook with me to work so anytime inspiration hit I could write it down. This is what inspiration and I came up with one night after work. Also, I watched some videos and interviews that helped the idea along. I used 2 prompt quotes that you can find a few posts back.

------

Pink, purple, and orange swirls paint the blue sky as the sun dances closer to the horizon of Washington DC. A long challenging week ending for the agents of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service.

Very special agent Anthony DiNozzo Jr. sits at his desk finishing up his paperwork that he has pushed off and is now kicking himself over. He takes a break from his paperwork and scrolls randomly through webpages. An article catches his eye. “Everything you need to know about Dating a Scorpio.”

Cosmopolitan. He loves this magazine and website. Yes, he was getting older, but he was not dead. He was always up for learning new things and unlike Penthouse, Cosmo did have some interesting articles. It totally is for men too and so far; he has had no complaints.

Scorpio. Ziva was a Scorpio, wasn’t she? Speaking of Ziva, she had been awfully quiet for several minutes.

He looks across his desk to his partner, who moments ago was finishing up her paperwork as well. However, at this moment, she has both elbows on her desk with one hand cupping her face as she lightly snores. 

Interesting. 

He looks around the squad room, McGee had long since disappeared to the basement to check on Abby and Gibbs was in the director’s office discussing things only the two of them knew about.

He carefully balls up a piece of paper, attempting to not get caught. He pulls back his arm and takes aim only to stop when he hears a sigh come from his partner's slightly parted mouth. He glances once, twice, and a third time to make sure she is still sleeping and takes aim again.

This time he swears he hears a moan make its way out of her kissable mouth. This piques his interest and he decides he must investigate. He would hate for her to get caught, moaning or sleeping on the job.

He puts the ball of paper on his desk and slowly rolls his chair back. Getting up and being quiet as possible, he tiptoes closer to his beautiful yet deadly partner. Standing by the side of her desk as another moan escapes her lips, curiosity gets the best of him and he leans in closer to her. He is close enough he can almost feel the breath come out of her mouth as she moans again. Not just any kind of moan, either. This was a moan he was accustomed to hearing from his female companions after he took them home following a nice dinner.

A smile forms on his lips and his eyes sparkle as he impatiently waits for what will happen next. He hears her take a deep breath and then a moan with his name comes out of her mouth. 

Tony? 

Wait a minute. 

She was dreaming and moaning for him? 

His smile got bigger. She wouldn’t be living this down anytime soon. He leans in close and whispers, “Yes, Ziva?”

Suddenly her eyes shoot open and she stands up straight. Deer in the headlights look before she catches herself with her hands flat on her desk. She turns her head slightly, she looks at him through hooded eyes as a come-hither smile spreads across her face, “Mmm..Tony,” she says breathlessly.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you while I was sitting at my desk, uh, totally minding my own business. I heard my name. Is there something I can help you with, sweet cheeks?”

“It has been a rather long week. I must have dozed off for a bit. I was having the most interesting dream,” she says, and she looks at his lips and gets closer to his face. He feels her breath on his lips and when her tongue swipes along her lips he can feel it on his own.

He smirks bashfully as he falls under her spell, not that it took much these days. “What was happening in this dream? Care to share?” He asks.

“You think you can handle it?” she asks him while licking her lips.

“Try me, Zee-vah,” He challenges her.

“We are in my bed. We’re naked and your hands are in my hair. My legs are around your waist as you kiss me. You start to pull my hair and kiss down my neck. It felt so good, so real.” She says as she blushes and bites her lower lip.

He chuckles at her blush, “You were really dreaming about this? Wow. I thought I was the only one who had dreams like this- “

She puts a finger to his lips as she says, “I wasn’t finished yet.”

“My hands are wandering down your chest, your skin is hot under my fingertips. I reach between us, the heat warming my hand as I grab between your legs. You gasp against my neck as my other hand makes its way down my body to my thigh holster. I kiss your lips as I take the knife out and plunge it into your gut.” She watches as her words register in his mind and she starts laughing at his shocked expression.

He starts to laugh nervously, “I know I’ve told you this before but you’re a sick chick, David.”

She only laughs harder as she holds her belly and before he can return to his desk, he feels the familiar sting of a hand slapping him on the back of his head.

“Ziver, go home, get some rest.” Their boss says sternly but with a smirk on his face. She wastes no time in gathering her things and heading toward the elevator.

“DiNozzo! Go home. Take a cold shower and get some rest.” His boss chuckles as he walks around his desk and sits in his chair.

“Yes, boss.” He grabs his backpack and runs toward the elevator to catch up with that crazy partner of his.

He slides through the closing doors just in time as he looks at her, her cheeks red from laughing and eyes bright with delight.

He smiles his most charming smile before he asks, “If you’re not busy… maybe we can get dinner? Without the weapons.”

[kittinoir]

Echoes of You Ch. 5

You can read this on Ao3

The photoshoot was over after that, and for once, Marinette couldn’t say she was upset the time was cut short.

To her surprise, most of the staff seemed…annoyed that they weren’t to continue. She watched them pack up, grumbling about the lost hours and messed up schedules and spoiled models.

“Come with me.”

Marinette jumped, nearly knocking over an irritated grip. Dominique raised a brow. She looked remarkably unflustered for someone who’d been being hunted down by a monster intent on shish-kabobing her to death.

“The shoot - ”

“Cancelled,” Dominique barked as she turned on her heel. Marinette scrambled to keep up, snatching her bag and sketch book off her chair. “An artists constitution is a delicate one. Adrien finds he is unable to continue under these conditions.”

Marinette’s heart leapt. Adrien. She hadn’t even thought about him during the attack. She hadn’t seen where Scream-ripper had come from; what if she’d run him through on her way to the set? Feelings of failure swirled through her; she hadn’t been able to protect him. She hadn’t been able to protect anyone.

But…no… What was she supposed to have done? She did everything she could; there was no way someone like her could have done anything. Besides, she remembered with a shudder, she’d done what she’d had to. She’d given Chat Noir a second chance. Apparently it had paid off.

To her surprise, Dominique lead Marinette straight out of the building to the car. Adrien, she saw, was already inside, staring out his window. Dominique spun on her heel without waiting for so much as a ‘thank you' and Marinette slid in quietly, pulling the door closed behind her. Suddenly the comments she’d heard about spoiled models made a lot more sense, and she scowled. Anyone who knew Adrien would know he wouldn’t just blow off work if it wasn’t serious, even if, as she was learning, it wasn’t something he was truly passionate about.

“You ok?” Marinette asked quietly. She suddenly realized she didn’t know if her question was rude or not, but she also discovered she didn’t really care. Right then it didn’t matter that this boy held her heart in his hands, whether he knew it or not; no one should have to hurt alone.

“Yeah,” Adrien said, barely glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah. Just…that was intense. I figured everyone could use some time to recover, myself included. Juliette was a talented seamstress.”

“Juliette?”

“The girl who got akumatized,” Adrien said, finally looking at her. “I don’t know what Dominique did, but I’m going to try to speak to my father about it. Juliette’s only been working for our label for a couple of months, but she was skilled and passionate - kind of like you, actually. I think she deserves another shot.”

Akumatized…? Marinette bit her lip as she probed the emptiness that was becoming more and more familiar. She didn’t know what it was, exactly, but she got the sense she was barely skimming the surface of a next to bottomless lake.

“I…I don’t know what that- ”

A rocking guitar riff Marinette recognized from Jagged Stone’s latest single ripped through the car, cutting her off. Adrien winced.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling out his phone. “My father. I have to take this.”

“I understand,” Marinette said. After all, he was his boss, too.

Unfortunately, the car pulled up outside the bakery minutes later. Adrien was still on the phone. From what she could gather, Gabriel Agreste seemed more concerned about the thousands of dollars going to waste from the shoot being cut short than he did about the attack itself. 

Adrien waved to her as she slid out of the back seat. A blank mask had settled over his features, and just for a second, a heartbeat really, he looked like someone else, someone she didn’t know. A stranger. The boy she loved was gone.

Marinette shut the door, but slid quickly up to the drivers side as inspiration struck. She knocked on the window, her hand acting before her brain caught up. She blanched as Adrien’s bodyguard rolled down the window but didn’t falter.

“Wait, please,” she said, “Just for a minute. I have something for Adrien. And - and for you! If you just wait, please, just for a second.”

The bodyguard didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no. Marinette took that as a positive and turned to dash into the bakery.

“Marinette?”

Sabine Dupain-Cheng paused mid-transaction as her daughter came tearing into the bakery, very nearly knocking over not one, not two, but three customers as she did.

“Hi mom!” Marinette said as she tore open a bag and began shovelling pastries inside. “I’m home, the shoot was great, I just need a sec.” Blueberry muffin. Apricot scone. Chocolate croissant. She grabbed a smaller bag and shovelled three or four more pastries into it before dashing back outside. She handed the smaller bag to the bodyguard. The eager smile was small, but she didn’t think she was imagining it. He dug in right away, a silent but loud and clear sign that he would wait to leave while she conducted her business.

Biting her lip, Marinette tugged open the back door one more time. Adrien turned, eyes wide, still on the phone.

“As a thank you,” Marinette whispered. She placed the bag on the seat. Adrien softened and smiled.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, but then his father reeled him back in. She waved and shut the door, waiting and watching as the car pulled away.

Marinette barely saw the bakery as she headed back inside and up to their apartment, to her room, and up to her balcony. 

The sun was just beginning to set over the city, glinting off the glass and stone, but it was completely lost on her. How had a day that had started so wonderfully turned into such a nightmare? The…akuma was burned into her memory, picking at Marinette’s focus. Every thought turned back to the attack.

Scream-ripper hadn’t been working on her own, obviously. But who… Hawk Moth. That was what Adrien had said that morning; that Hawk Moth was becoming more volatile. But how? What could have twisted that woman’s body that way? She shuddered; what could have turned her to stone?

Marinette jumped as her own phone rang, the Clara Nightengale verse letting her know Alya would be on the other end. “Hello?”

“Tell. Me. EVERYTHING!”

Marinette frowned. “I…what?”

“You were there, girl!” Alya said almost too fast for Marinette to understand. “I saw it on the news! New akuma! What was it? Did you get a picture? A video? DID LADYBUG RESCUE YOU?”

“Alya, calm down,” Marinette said as panic threatened to overwhelm her. “I don’t know, I��”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Alya demanded. “Didn’t you see it?”

“I…I…”

“Are you…ok, girl?” Alya asked, suddenly serious. “Did you get hurt while you were there?”

And just like that, Marinette found herself choking back tears. “Something’s wrong, Alya,” Marinette got out. “There’s all these…these gaps, and things I can’t remember, and I don’t…I don’t know what to do. I think I need help.”

“I’m on my way, Marinette,” Alya said. “Do you want me to grab anyone else on the way? Rose? Juleka?”

“No, no,” Marinette said. “I just don’t know….I don’t know…”

“It’s ok,” Alya said. Marinette could hear her pulling on a jacket through the phone. “Be there in 10, ok?”

Marinette bit her lip. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, girl,” Alya said. She hung up, and Marinette stared down at her phone, suddenly wondering if she wasn’t over-reacting. Was she really forgetting things, or had she just been so busy with her own escapades she’d missed the obvious?

Marinette climbed back down her ladder and made her way to her desk, pushing aside a stale plate of half-eaten cookies before she sat down. Like her phone, the webpage automatically loaded the Ladyblog. That, more than anything, assured Marinette this wasn’t something she was dreaming. It was real.

She was still scrolling through the Ladyblog when Alya burst in seven minutes later with pastries.

“I came as fast as I could,” Alya panted, dropping onto the chaise and patting the empty end. “What’s going on, girl? Was it…” Alya dropped her voice to a whisper, “Was it the akuma?”

Marinette joined Alya on the end of her chaise, crossing her legs and clutching a pillow to herself. “Yes, but…no. It’s been…well, everything, just…”

“Ok,” Alya said slowly, “Everything how? On the phone you mentioned…I think gaps…?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said as a blush fought its’ way onto her cheeks. “This is going to sound so stupid, but I think there are gaps…in my memory.”

Alya frowned. Marinette recognized her reporter face. “Random memories? Like people, or events? Homework, or friends? You remember that you’re a total goner for Adrien, right? Because you, like, just started managing coherent conversations with him.”

“Yes, I remember that,” Marinette said. Despite it all, she giggled. “I don’t think I could ever forget that. But…I don’t know. I don’t usually realize what I’ve forgotten until someone’s talking about something like I should know it.”

“Ok,” Alya said. She’d pulled out a notebook and was tapping her pen on her chin. “Do you have any specific examples?”

“Well…yeah, I…” Marinette dredged up her memories of the past twelve hours. “Like this morning when you said you had an interview for the Ladyblog. I knew about it, but I didn’t. I remembered you want to be a journalist and had been working on this project, but I couldn’t remember what the blog was about, except it was the home page on my phone and my computer, so obviously I’ve read it. 

“And then this morning, Adrien said something about Ladybug and Chat Noir and Hawk Moth, and…Alya, I had no idea who they were.”

Alya stared at her, as though waiting for clarification. “Wait, like…nothing?”

Marinette shook her head. “None at all.”

“O-ok,” Alya said, jotting down her notes. “Anything else?”

“The… akuna?…attack today,” Marinette said, bracing herself against the terrifying memories.

“The akuma,” Alya corrected. She raised a brow as though she wasn’t completely sure Marinette wasn’t just playing a prank, but the other girl just shrugged.

“I had no idea what it was, what it could do.”

“That’s pretty typical,” Alya said cautiously. “Every one is different with different powers.”

“I didn’t know that,” Marinette said quietly, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. “I don’t know where they come from, or how they’re made.”

“Well, it seems to me,” Alya said slowly, “That the things you have trouble remembering have to do with the Miraculous.”

A chill ran down Marinette’s spine, a silent warning. “The what?”

“The…Miraculous,” Alya repeated. “Oh, my god. How many heroes are there?”

“I don’t know,” Marinette said, “I guess two? Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

“How did they get their powers?”

“Sleight of…hand, maybe…?”

Alya was practically vibrating. “What is Hawk Moth after?”

“I don’t know, Alya!” Marinette said, clenching her hands to keep her panic under control. “I don’t know what he wants, or who he is, or why he’s doing all this!”

Alya reached over and squeezed Marinette’s hands a silent apology. “It’s ok, Marinette, it’s ok. I have a theory.”

Marinette wasn’t sure how someone could derive a theory from all the crazy things she’d already said, but she let Alya plow ahead, desperate for any explanation, even a wrong one.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir are Paris’s protectors,” Alya began, “But sometimes they need help. They get their powers from their Miraculous, a magic piece of jewellery guarded by an immortal being. There are a few pieces of this jewellery. When Ladybug and Chat Noir need help, they ask a select few people to wear a Miraculous and help them defeat an akuma.”

“Isn’t that…dangerous?” Marinette asked.

“Not that I know of,” Alya said. “The Miraculous protect the wearer, but once the one time power is used, they have five minutes until the transformation exhausts itself and they transform back into their civilian self.”

“Ok…” Marinette said. “I’m with you so far. What does any of that have to do with me?”

“Ladybug and Chat Noir had a close scrape with Hawk Moth, in person, a few days ago,” Alya said. “Normally he just sends out his akuma’s to do his dirty work for him, but for whatever reason, he came in person that time.”

“Adrien mentioned something about it,” Marinette said, suddenly recalling their conversation. “But there wasn’t anything about it on the Ladyblog.”

Alya shrugged, her brow creasing. “It was a bad day. I was across town at a family function and no one could get close enough to film or ask questions. Worse, it was at the top of Montparnasse, so the actual news outlets weren’t able to get close enough to film, either. I missed a lot of what happened that day. What I could gather, though, was that another Miraculous holder was with them, one of other heroes.”

“Ok,” Marinette said. “So?”

“So,” Alya said, “I think that hero might have been you.”

Marinette nearly fell of the chaise. “Me!? I can barely remember who the Kitty is, you think I was out there with them?”

“I think,” Alya said softly, “That while the Miraculous can protect your body, they can’t always protect the mind. I’ve heard of cases before, where people are so traumatized by what they experience their mind tries to protect them. Sometimes they go blind, or deaf, or…forget things that hurt too much. I don’t really know what happened that day, Marinette, but not all of the stories on the Ladyblog are good ones.”

Marinette pulled a blanket off the back of the chaise and pulled it around herself with shaking fingers as she processed what Alya had said. Her, a…super hero? But she’d never been one for direct confrontation; what in the world would make Ladybug choose her?

“It’s ok, girl,” Alya said, pulling her best friend in for a tight hug. When Alya realized Marinette was trembling, she didn’t let go. “It’s just an idea, something I read about. Maybe it’s something else. Maybe it’s a side effect of an akuma - like Oblivio!”

Marinette struggled to calm down. “Oblivio?”

“Yeah, they were this super-villain that erased people’s memories. Maybe Hawk Moth’s getting stronger and this is a side effect of that.” Alya paused, then quietly said, “Actually…Oblivio was me.”

“You?” Marinette straightened, staring at her friend.

“Me,” Alya said with a nod, “And Nino.”

“But…how - ”

“I guess that’s the most important thing you need to know,” Alya said as she studied her jeans. “Anyone can be akumatized, Marinette. Anyone. When you feel really angry, or sad, or any strong negative emotion, it somehow creates an opening for Hawk Moth. He can send one of his butterflies after you. It amplifies that emotion until you’re happy to work with him, so you have to be careful. He’ll sweet talk you, promise you whatever you want, in exchange for one thing.”

“What?” Marinette whispered through lips that had gone cold.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.”

[nebuvoid]

theres NO new posts on my dash theres no new POSTS on my dash i know tumblr is dead but theres barely any good shit going on on twitter either pillowfort got like one new post a month what is a bitch to do i hate this transitional time ive been on some sort of wasting-time-scrolling-for-hours webpage since i was 12 i dont know what to do with myself do i go to deviantart??? is that what you want?? fucking deviantart?? 

[moneysourceyt]

My Personal Experience With John Crestani’s Super Affiliate System

How It All Started

It all started on one weekend when I was scrolling on my Twitter timeline. My attention was drawn to this one retweet from one of my friends on Twitter. He had retweeted a tweet by John Crestani. I don’t remember much about what exactly the tweet was all about but it was something in the line of “financial freedom” and “making passive income.” I guess I was a little too excited to pay attention to the details.

So, I clicked on the link provided and found myself on what looked like a well-crafted landing page. On this page, John shared lots of information regarding a system that he had discovered and one that he believed could empower beginner and intermediate affiliate marketers.

I wasn’t new to affiliate marketing at that time. The first time I heard of it was back in 2014 when I was doing some online research on how to make money online. After sifting through dozens of scams, I finally managed to sign up for the Amazon Associate program.

Once my account was approved, I simply went to my back-end, picked a few banner codes and pasted them on my blog. At that time, I didn’t know much about targeting the right audience and the need for being niche specific.

So, as fate would have it, my affiliate marketing dream hit a snag. My account was closed within 90 days and that’s because despite delivering some clicks, no one was buying through my affiliate links. To cut the long story short, I completely gave up on the idea of making money online by getting random strangers to make purchases through some goddamn links.

I chose to stick to my day job which to be honest I didn’t like that much. But as any other person looking to pay the bills would do, I had to keep going to the office, deal with numerous client calls and sit in a dimly lit cubicle all day.

So, when I came across John Crestani’s tweet and eventually the landing page, my dream of being independent once again came back to life.

Who Is John Crestani

The reason John grabbed my attention is that he had a story that was almost similar to mine. He was once stuck in a boring day job but unfortunately, for him, he got fired without a clear exit strategy. I can only imagine if I was the one in such a situation. How would I pay my rent? How would I convince my daughter that there was no food in the house or money to keep the AC working?

But John somehow managed to go through it all, effectively building a $500k business from scratch. Having seen it all, John seeks to help you and me learn the tricks and techniques it took him years to master.

I really liked how genuine he sounded but, to be honest, I was still a bit skeptical. That’s because John kept talking about his current affluent life. I even peeped into his Instagram and Facebook pages and realized that he frequently posts photos of himself standing next to Lamborghini’s. Why do you need a Lambo to sell a $47 course?

I am not a fun of marketing tactics that involve showing off what one owns or drives. If anything, it’s always possible to rent a Lambo and fool people on social media that it’s all yours.

In my opinion, if John could spare us all the stuff about his personal life, he can be a bit more convincing and authoritative. Otherwise, one might mistake him for a scammer despite the fact that he’s selling a really good course.

How It Works

So, I started out by signing up for the Internet Jetset program. It’s a subscription-based service which goes for $47. This program comprises some awesome lessons for beginners. In particular, it walks you through some awesome ways to generate valuable traffic without spending a dime.

These are strategies that other marketers hardly talk about. And even if they talk about them, they hardly bother to get into the details as John does.

The lessons are presented in video format. John narrates everything using screen recordings. This makes his courses pretty easy to follow. In fact, you can do everything he says as he narrates to you and that’s because it’s possible to pause the videos and resume when necessary.

What I didn’t like, however, is that it’s not possible to “fast-forward” the videos. So, if you’re already familiar with whatever John is talking about at any given moment, you’d have no alternative than to still listen to it. This can be quite annoying and time wasting.

Also, I don’t know if it’s just me or that John talks really slowly. Some of the lessons could have been 30 minutes but he talks rather slowly and a good number of them go up to 45 minutes in length. The upside is that you get some highly detailed and in-depth training no matter your level of skills.

Also, the Internet Jetset courses are divided into tiny, little portions. Ideally, you should take 1 module per week meaning you’d need several weeks to finish the entire program. Fortunately, you don’t have to finish it for you to start making real cash. You can start using your skills to get the systems up and running. For instance, you can use the skills learned within the Google Free Traffic Module to tap into the power of SEO.

The Upsells

The Jetset is pretty affordable at $47 per month, so what’s the catch? Well, the catch is that you’ll constantly receive emails from John enticing you to buy one of the premium packages on offer. For instance, if you’re already enrolled in the Internet JetSet program, you’ll constantly be enticed to go for the Super Affiliate program which goes for close to $1,000.

There’s also the JetsetLIVE webinars package that goes for $97. You’ll also find the JetSet Xtreme Members course which goes for $187.

I accidentally subscribed to the JetSet Xtreme Members course when I clicked on the link out of curiosity. And instead of being taken to a check out page, I got a message reading “Thank you for purchasing the Jetset Xtreme Members” course.

My Thoughts on the JetSet Xtreme Members Course

This is a platform full of pre-recorded videos of other affiliate marketers who have used this system to successfully make money. The course also provides you with links to third-party tools that you can use to make purchases. At first, I thought these were free tools but upon clicking on them I realized they belonged to other companies and you had to pay up to use them.

So, in my opinion, while the JetSet Xtreme is full of value especially if you’re looking to learn from the experiences of other affiliate marketers, it doesn’t really provide you with free tools. Just a bunch of affiliate links to other services.

I did not find this part of the program to be worth the $187 they charge for it. And for that reason, I claimed my money back. Fortunately, John kept his word and I got back all the money I had accidentally spent on this upsell.

I really liked the fact that the company is made up of honest people. It’s rare to come across companies that are willing to refund money nowadays – so two thumbs up to the Super Affiliate System team.

My Thoughts on the $997 Super Affiliate System (SAS)

While the Internet Jetset program focuses on the free sources of traffic, the SAS shows you exactly what you need to do to leverage on paid traffic methods. In my opinion, the $997 you pay for this course is worth it but only if you’re willing to sit down and learn the tricks. It won’t work like magic.

You see, everyone can place an advert on Facebook, Instagram or even Google Adwords. But if you ask around, you’ll realize that most of those ads don’t convert. It doesn’t matter how much you invest in the course unless you really understand the psychology of the buyer, you’d end up making shots in the dark.

The good thing with paid traffic is that it works almost instantly. That’s unlike the free traffic methods which take months or even years to materialize. So, if you don’t have the time to build dozens of backlinks and implement other SEO tasks for your site to rank (which normally takes years), this strategy enables you to start making money immediately.

And the best part is that besides exposing you to the language of paid affiliate marketing, the SAS course also provides you with 3 core skills. These include:

Copywriting

Data analysis

Research

In general, the SAS is an 8-week course which comprises 50 hours’ worth of content. It also contains lots of additional resources that can help complement your unique strategy.

Week One – The System Setup

This section of the training mainly comprises stuff to do with creating a website, setting up a presell page and rolling out Facebook ads.

Week Two – Understanding the System

Introduces you to the core skills of online business. It also aims to help you unlock a super affiliate mindset so you can profit from different situations.

Week Three – Marketing Skills

How do you get people to click on your ads and convert? As we all know, it takes an expert to hack this. Luckily, those skills are provided within this section of the training.

Week Four – Facebook & Google Ads

Facebook and Google have more than 2 billion active users per month. So, if you were to get a piece of this pie, chances are that you’d make some pretty huge bucks as well. And that’s what John Crestani does in week 4 of his training.

Week Five – Native & YouTube Ads

Ever thought of leveraging the power of native ads? Basically, native ads are ones that are included within a media format. For instance, you can include such ads on your webpage content and so forth. Besides that, you’ll also get to learn how to do YouTube Ads and so forth.

Week Six – Scaling and Outsourcing

Once you have the skills needed to make the first dollars, you’ll need to find ways to grow and expand your trade. Using the tidbits shared in the 6-th week of this training, you’ll be able to outsource and automate quite a number of tasks so you can focus on growing your business.

Week Seven – More Ad Campaigns

Most people usually limit themselves to Google and Facebook. But did you know that there’s a lot of unused potential on platforms like LinkedIn and Bing? In this module, you’ll be able to learn about all that plus a lot more.

Week Eight – Implementing the System

If you’re wondering which ad network to join and which niche to embrace, this is the module you’ll need to take. It’s a highly advanced section of the training that helps you decide the direction you want your online business to follow.

My Results

After going through this program, I’d like to admit that I learned quite a lot. Most importantly, I was able to re-apply for the Amazon Associates program and got accepted. I have been making quite some bucks over the last few years. One of my sites rakes in $1500 while the other one brings about $2000 per month.

My goal is to scale these two sites up – I know there’s potential to make $10,000 per site (per month) with more content and a stronger SEO presence. But that might take time. For now, I appreciate the fact that the investment I made in the Super Affiliate System is now paying back.

The Pros & Cons

Pros

Easy to use

Contains tons of useful advice

Relevant information provided

Well thought out curriculum

John is a good trainer and he takes time to explain different points

They offer a genuine money back guarantee

Pre-built templates for ads

Cons

Customer support only available via email

Quite a few optional upsells included

Frequent emails were sent to market their upsells

Final Thoughts

The Super Affiliate System by John Crestani is not without its flaws. But that doesn’t mean that it’s bad. In fact, as long as you’re willing to learn and implement its contents, you can truly benefit from it. I personally would recommend it to any person looking to make genuine cash in the vast online markets.

You can check it out here.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

Chapter 7 - (totally uninterested.)

I blinked a few times to get the blurriness out of my vision and rolled onto my back as reality set back in. Harry--who’d been in the bed beside me, was missing. Only wrinkled sheets and a sunken pillow let me know that (at one point) he was there.

The first night I’d insisted on a pillow between us, mainly because I knew if I woke up and he his face was a mere inches from mine, I’d probably smack him out of pure surprise. Last night, however, we’d clearly fallen asleep without much thought of his safety.

“Morning,” he shuffled out of the bathroom and appeared--shirtless--in the middle of the room.

“Hi,” I said, rubbing at me eyes again as I pushed myself up.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” I said, letting out a sigh when I looked him up and down. I’d seen his tattoos before--I’d seen the ink that dotted his arms and chest and I’d seen, somehow, the obnoxiously large butterfly that had seemed to land on his chest. “Did you sleep like that?”

“Shirtless?” He let out a laugh as he came back over the bed and sat with one leg still planted on the ground. “Yeah--s’hot as shit in here. I’m surprised you’re not totally naked.”

My eyes went wide at his words, but thankfully, he was fixated on his phone.

“What time is it?” I asked, hoping to change the subject from either of our clothing choices and onto something more platonic.

“Seven twenty-nine,” he said slowly, reading the numbers off of his phone before looking up at me. “Want to get some breakfast? I saw a diner down the street--might be good.”

I nodded, scooching myself closer towards the edge of the bed to finally commit to the day. “What time do you want to leave?”

It was Tuesday--Harry and I had both taken our shift off from the library for the night so we could spent the afternoon driving back. It was set to only take us a good 5 or so hours to get back to DC, but with my bladder and Harry’s constant need for a snack, we’d prepared for closer to 6 and a half.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and stood from the bed, walking over to his duffle bag that laid open on the floor. He crouched down to rifle through it, picking out a shirt to pull over his head. “I don’t care, really. Let’s have food and see how we feel.”

**

I’d always loved waffles. So as I watched Harry pour syrup over his, I felt incredibly regretful about my decision to get two eggs, over easy, with toast, bacon, and home fries.

I mean, sure, it’d be tasty and filling and fine--but the look on Harry’s face when he took the first bite felt like an unfair declaration of victory.

“What?” He asked, his mouth full as I forked a home fry into my mouth. “Somethingonmyface?”

“No,” I laughed. “Those look good.”

“D’yawantabite?”

“No,” I shook my head, reaching and pulling the bacon up to my mouth in hopes that the flavor would distract me.

“Mmm,” he said, swallowing and looking down at his plate. “Good, because they’re delicious. Will definitely finish them all and lick the plate.”

“Please don’t lick anything in public.”

He rolled his eyes at me, taking a sip from his coffee that sat on the table between us. “What midterms do you have?”

My shoulders slumped at the mere thought of going back to school. “History test, which is stupid. I have a paper due for my non-fiction class, a group project--with Taylor Nguyen--for my marketing class, and that’s it, actually.”

“What’s so bad about Taylor Nguyen?” He asked, a smirk tugging at his lips as he cut another bite.

“Nothing,” I sighed dramatically, “she’s just smart. She does everything on time and it makes me look bad when it’s the night before and I haven’t done shit.”

Harry let out a quiet laugh, watching me with curious eyes as he ate.

“What?”

“You’re just funny,” he said casually.

I pulled my head back and narrowed my eyes. “I’m funny? What happened to you’re so annoying, Nora, you’re so obnoxious!” I did my best to sound like him, voice low and slow and lilted r’s to imitate his accent.

“I don’t sound like that,” he said, an offended look on his face.

I swiped a piece of toast into the yolk that had spilled on my plate. “Sure you do, we can record you if you need to hear it. You can come and do a little radio spot in the campus station.”

He forked another bite into his mouth but kept his eyes on my face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I smiled down at his plate, hoping to send a message without words. He slumped his shoulders, let out a sigh, and shot me an are you serious? look.

Without saying anything, he picked up my plate, pushed his across the table, and then placed mine in front of him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You don’t have to do that!” I laughed, picking up my fork and trying to play down my excitement. “I would have settled for a bite or two.”

“Yeah, right. You’d have two and then you’d just keep eating it mindlessly as you talk at me and then it’d be gone and I’d be pissed,” he let out a laugh, telling me that he wasn’t as bothered as he pretended.

“I don’t talk at you,” I made a face at him.

“You do,” he nodded assuredly, stabbing a few home fries before bringing them up to his lips. “But it’s fine, I still like you.”

**

Returned the car and now back at my apartment.

Thanks again for tagging along.

Anytime. Thanks for driving.

I wasn’t about to make you drive all that way!

I would have if you wanted me to! I’m actually quite capable behind the wheel.

For some reason I don’t believe you.

You’re the one who learned how to drive in a different country.

Believe it or not it’s not that different. Steering wheel, pedal, breaks. We have all of that.

You drive on the wrong side of the road there.

:( Be nice to me. I’m mourning.

You’re a dick! You can’t use the mourning card on me, I just dealt with you for three days straight.

And you loved every second of it.

Debatable.

I’m taking a shower and I’m going to knock out. Thanks again for coming, N. Goodnight 😊

Night, Harry 😊

**

My feet were up on the desk in front of us and Harry scrolled through some webpage on his computer. “What about this one?” He asked, forcing me to lean over again to look at his screen.

He showed me a picture of two people, dressed as ketchup and mustard in off-putting, boxy, costumes.

“No,” I said. “No way.”

“Nora,” he whined my name, causing me to look around the first floor to make sure that his volume didn’t bother anyone. There were only a few students spread out--most of them had chosen the quiet second floor to waste away their lives as they prepared for midterms. “You’ve shot down every single one.”

“Maybe that’s because we’re not doing a couples costume.”

I leaned back against my seat and looked back down at the textbook in front of me. Taylor Nguyen would have my head if I didn’t get my shit done on this project. She was already halfway there, sending me texts and even going as far as facebook messages to remind me that our presentation was due in a matter of days.

“We’re everyone’s favorite couple, we have to do a couples costume.”

I turned to look at him with raised brows. “Yeah, did you poll the entirety of American University?”

“I did,” he nodded confidently, continuing to scroll on the website to--apparently--look for other options. “Unanimous vote. Everyone loves us as a couple.”

“Yeah, well, then they’ll be heartbroken when we call it quits,” I said. I didn’t necessarily want to go there, but I knew I had to. “Which, by the way, we certainly can’t go as a couple on Halloween if we’re supposed to break up before then.”

He tilted his head to the side and scrunched his nose. “Let’s wait ‘til after. A costume will be great--really solidify us as in love. And besides,” he paused for a second as we both looked up to see a group of students walk in from the cooler October air. “Niall will be really upset when we end it. He loves you. Thinks you’re the greatest thing that ever happened to me.”

I let out a laugh at the thought of Niall rambling on about how good of a match I was for Harry. “I am the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“Debatable,” he shot me a challenging glare and then turned back to the computer. “What about this?”

I leaned forward again to get a better look at the old desktop that sat on the information desk. “What--what are they? Is he her pimp? You want me to be a hooker?”

“No, jesus, Nora,” he clicked the photo a few times to make it bigger. “They’re just from the Seventies, hippies--you really need to get your eyes checked.”

I rolled my eyes at his suggestion and went back to my book. “If we were going to do one, I’d consider that.”

The smile on his face wasn’t subtle, and neither were the butterflies in my stomach. I knew--with everything in me--that we had to end this soon. There was no way that I could continue on like this. I couldn’t pretend that the things Harry said didn’t mean something to me, and I certainly couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t important.

My biggest fear about the break up was that I’d suddenly feel a huge Harry-shaped hole in my life. Who would be the person I’d text when my professor said something ridiculously stupid? Who would I hang out with when Kristen was too busy studying? Who’d text me stupid jokes and send me stupid memes?

He’d grown quiet, sending a text on his phone to Ryan until he turned back to me. “So--we’ll do the costume? We could just break up that night, if you want. An alcohol fueled fight right in front of Ethan?”

I didn’t answer right away, instead, I stared at the textbook in front of me. Halloween was two weeks away.

“Or we could do it sooner if you really think we should. We could do it this weekend?”

“No,” I said, unable to even fathom the amount of time I’d have by myself if Harry wasn’t my friend anymore. “We can just do Halloween. Ethan’s pretty busy with basketball right now anyway, so that’s fine.”

“Y’sure?”

“Yeah, positive.”

He was quiet for a second, and it almost felt he was going to ask me what on earth was going on. But I was glad he didn’t, because I didn’t have an answer.

“So,” he drew out the word in a playful tone. “Can I order these then?”

I rolled my eyes and looked up at him, my heart almost breaking when my eyes landed on his playful grin and the excitement in his eyes. I let out a dramatic sigh, hoping that keeping air between us would protect my heart. Surely it wouldn’t work. I wasn’t that stupid.

“Fine,” I said. “Buy them.”

**

“You slept in bed with him for two nights and you didn’t have sex?” Kristen eyed me like I was crazy--but more so, like I was lying.

I held my burger in between us and looked her in the eyes, the noisy dining hall was the scene of our sudden heart-to-heart. “I swear on my entire life that I did not have sex with Harry Styles.”

“But,” she said suddenly, shrugging her shoulders as she reached to take a sip of her water. “You wanted to.”

“No, what? Kristen--I’m telling you,” I lowered my volume to ensure that I didn’t let the metaphorical cat out of the bag. “Everything between us is platonic. We’re friends. Just friends.”

My roommate stared back at me, her face calm and her words calculated. “Nora. You’re a terrible liar.”

I let out a breath and looked around the room, mainly to ensure that no one we knew was nearby and that--more importantly--Harry wasn’t lurking around the corner.

“Look, obviously there’s some chemistry between us, okay? But it’s not going anywhere. He’s almost done with his community service, Ethan is like actually interested in talking to me. The plan is working.”

“What do you mean Ethan’s interested in talking to you?”

I smiled at her question, excited to show her the physical proof. I pulled out my cell phone and opened up our message thread.

“He texted me at first with a question about where Harry was--which I lied, like a good fake girlfriend, and said he was with me--but then we talked all night.”

She reached for the iPhone in my hands and read over the messages. “Okay--so, it was like a few messages.”

I couldn’t help but frown a bit when she handed me the phone back. She let out a laugh at the look on my face and tried to console me. “Nora--I don’t mean it like that. I just don’t want you to miss what you have in front of your nose right now.”

“In front of my nose?” I put my burger down at this and leaned across the table and lowered my voice. “If Harry and I weren’t pretending to date, none of this would be happening, okay? I have to keep telling myself that all the time. All of this is fake, Kristen! He’s being nice because he’s acting.”

“I don’t think he’s acting, Nora,” she smirked at me as if she knew something I didn’t.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, my tone dismissive and, in a way, uninterested.

“I know that you’re both acting like you’re a couple--but, I think you guys are a good fit. I think the joking and the friendship and the stuff you do--I mean, it’s not all for show. Both of you know that.”

I thought on it for a second, stuffing a french fry into my mouth as she pushed the food on her plate around with her fork. “I’m just saying,” she raised a hand to encourage me to let her speak. “That I think both of you have been pleasantly surprised by how natural it is for you.”

“Fancy seein’ you two here,” Niall’s voice sounded from beside Kristen as he slumped into the chair beside her. His plate clattered to the table and he dropped his backpack on the floor.

Ethan appeared next to me, sliding into a chair and offering a smile as he greeted us both. “Long time no see,” he said. “How was New York?”

“It was--as good as it could be,” I replied. I realized, though, that despite the truth in Kristen’s words, I had a chance right now to set the stage for our break up. I cleared my throat, watching as Niall walked away to grab another fork. “But, it’s pretty difficult for Harry, you know. It’s made things kind of tough between us.”

Kristen took a sip of her water, likely to avoid any facial expressions that would give me away.

“Oh, really?” Ethan shook his head, “that’s too bad. I can’t imagine how tough it must be for him.”

“Yeah, for sure. He’s been really down, you know? Picking fights with me and--yeah. It’s alright though.”

Ethan twirled spaghetti around his fork and looked up at me. “Well, if you ever need to talk--either of you, really--you know how to reach me.”

“Thanks, Ethan,” I smiled at him, bringing my eyes to meet Kristen when Niall rejoined us.

“Jesus, the woman at the sandwich counter’s in a terrible mood,” Niall chirped, shaking his head in disdain.

Kristen and I were silent--but she knew exactly what I meant when I raised my eyebrows at her from across the table.

**

What are you up to?

Working on my marketing project, how bout you?

Nothing. Bored. The guys are at practice and I’m out early.

Need a distraction?

Hello? Please save me. I’m dying of boredom.

Okay--coming over then!!

Harry I’m busy. And rule two, remember?

Oh 🙁

Yeah, okay. That’s fine. I’ll see you at work?

See you then!

**

You know that movie you said you liked? With Ryan Reynolds?

I’ll need more than that--the guy’s been in hundreds of films.

Sandra Bullock!

The Proposal?

Yes! Watched it last night with Kristen. Not impressed 🤷

What?! You’re heartless. It’s a classic.

It was okay! Just expected more when you gushed about it at work the other day.

🙄

**

Harry had been begging me and Kristen to come to his soccer game--and if it weren’t for the fact that I was trying to avoid him, I would have been happy to go. I had nothing against soccer. In fact, I’d enjoyed tagging along with Harry and Alex to watch Ryan, Niall, and Ethan’s basketball games.

In the three times that we’d gone over the semester, I quite enjoyed listening to Harry and Alex try their hand at coaching as they’d scream at our friends from the bleachers. Kristen found this more embarrassing than endearing, but I was rather amused at the way Harry’s voice would crack after four quarters and countless “tips” from the sideline.

And I would have gotten out of Harry’s soccer game, had it not been for the rest of the boys being right there to jump on the chance. Niall loved a good game of soccer, loved to cheer on a team of any sport, really. Ethan agreed that Harry deserved a taste of his own medicine (and that he’d need to go buy a megaphone), and Ryan and Alex were happy to have an excuse to spend time as a group.

So--on a cooler than usual October Saturday--I was huddled between Kristen and Ethan on bleachers at Jacobs Field as Ryan seemed to yell directly at Harry (who was much better at soccer than I’d expected).

“Come on, Styles, put your pack into it, will ya?!” Ryan’s hands were cupped around his mouth to help his voice carry across the field.

“Stop standing there, sixteen! Let’s see a goal!” Niall sat down on the other side of Ethan and leaned over to see me. “I hope he’s not this slow in bed, Nora, jesus.”

Both Ethan and Kristen broke down into giggles, but I rolled my eyes and played along. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard us, Niall, that’s how good it is.”

The boys let out hoots of teasing towards Niall, but Ethan seemed to lower his voice as he smirked. “You don’t strike me as the loud type.”

I met his eyes for a second, suddenly worried by the heat on my cheeks that was sure to be noticeable in the cold air. I pried my eyes away from his and back toward the field--was it working? Was Ethan Davis actually flirting with me?

Before I could even focus back on the game, a whistle was blown, Ryan and Niall were back on their feet, and Ethan whispered “oh fuck.”

I scanned the field for Harry--who was now on his back, his hands grasped around his right ankle as he seemed to roll in pain. A teammate beside him was crouched over, a few others looked on in worry as their coach and trainer jogged from the sidelines.

I could feel all of their eyes on me--how would I react? Would I storm the field in some sort of love-crazed stupor? Would I rush to be by his side? I swallowed, tried to slow my heartbeat, and then looked to Kristen.

Part of me felt frozen in time--like if I worried about Harry’s injury and went to be with him, I was admitting that there was more to this than just a pre-arranged relationship that seemed to benefit the two parties involved. I felt the urge to ignore it, act as if he’d be fine and we were fine and I wasn’t worried--that part of me wanted to stay and talk with Ethan and learn more about the boy with blonde hair and a backwards hat.

“What happened?” I asked, feeling somewhat embarrassed to have been completely distracted from the game.

“He was running and took a cleat to the ankle by number 54 in blue!” Niall shouted the end of his sentence, clearly upset that the player hadn’t been carded.

“He’ll be okay,” Ethan said, his voice reassuring as he patted my knee. “Happens all the time. He’ll walk it off.”

“He’s not walking it off,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “He’s in fucking pain, man. Look at him.”

Minutes passed as Harry was stood from the ground, hobbled over the to bench, and was continuously examined by their team’s trainer. We watched as their coach spoke on a walkie-talkie and called in the players from the field.

I waited--quiet as Niall stood and seemed to bite at his nails in anticipation.

But my decision was made for me when someone on Harry’s team arrived on the sideline and asked which of us was Nora. “That’d be me,” I stood, offering an uncertain wave as he shielded his eyes from the sun.

“He needs an x-ray,” the kid said, his words causing me to immediately stand from the cold metal of the bleachers. Kristen handed me my purse and moved her legs aside so I could squeeze out from behind her, my feet picking up pace as I followed number three around the corner and towards the bench.

There were still plenty of people huddled around Harry, but when he saw me making my way towards him, he looked up at me with wide eyes. “Nora tell them that I don’t need an x-ray.”

I looked from Harry to the man with a clipboard (presumably his coach) and then to the man who was knelt beside Harry (presumably the trainer). I wasn’t about to give any sort of medical advice, but I looked Harry straight in the eyes. “You need an x-ray.”

There was laughter from a few of his teammates as they stepped aside to let me in closer. “Is it broken?” My question was more to the trainer than it was to Harry, but he swatted my hand away when I tried to rest it on his shoulder.

“It’s probably a fracture or a bad sprain--but either way, needs to be looked at.”

Harry pouted at this, a look of anger crossing his face when I raised my eyebrows at him. “Well, come on then.”

“I’ve called for a golf cart. Pat can take you back to the locker room and get some crutches for him,” Harry’s coach was talking to me--his clipboard against his chest as he seemed to respect my orders for Harry.

“You’re seriously trusting my girlfriend and not me? It’s my body! I know how it feels!”

“How’s this feel?” I leaned forward and tapped his ankle, gaining a laugh from the other players that had circled around us.

“Jesus fuck, Nora,” Harry let out a hiss of pain and then looked back up at me. I offered him a smile and a hand as the golf-cart approached from behind. Another trainer climbed out from behind the wheel to help Pat support Harry onto one of the back seats and I took Harry’s gigantic soccer bag in my lap.

“You could be seriously hurt, you know,” I told him, watching as they buckled him in. I reached forward to brush some of his hair out of his face.

“I hate the hospital,” Harry mumbled under his breath, causing me to let out a snort of laughter.

“Yeah, well, something tells me you’ll survive.”

**

Harry wasn’t exactly the portrait of a stellar patient. He was sat on a bed in the ER, refusing to lie down and insisting that this was all a bit much--despite the fact that he could barely put any weight on his ankle and it was swelling more and more by the minute.

He’d been down the hall for a bit for x-rays, being wheeled back in by a male nurse who seemed just as bothered by Harry’s attitude as I was. This male nurse--whose ID card clipped to his shirt said Aaron--offered me a sympathetic smile when he told us it’d be about 30-45 minutes until someone could read the x-rays and give us the results.

He’d left us alone for a bit, but he’d sporadically pop in to make sure Harry wasn’t in too much pain or to make sure that I was still putting up with him and hadn’t suffocated him with a pillow.

“Jesus, don’t look at him like that--have some decorum,” Harry grunted as he lifted himself back on the bed to adjust his position.

“What are you talking about?” I defended, watching him struggle without offering to help.

“Those eyes--those are your Ethan eyes. You think he’s attractive.”

I let out a scoff, totally uninterested in getting into it with Harry in the small hospital room. “Can you stop being such a twat? Everyone here is trying to help you. I am trying to help you!”

“The only way you’re helping is by keeping me company while we wait an obnoxiously long time for someone to read the stupid x-rays.”

“Why are you so grumpy? Aren’t you nervous that your ankle could actually be broken?”

He rested his head on the pillow behind him--the bed was upright enough that he was still in a seated position. With eyes closed, he let out a breath. “If my ankle is broken, Nora, I can’t finish the hours. If I don’t finish the hours, the whole Luke Billups thing doesn’t get erased. If that doesn’t get erased--”

“You’re fucked,” I cut him off. He shot me a pointed glare at my bluntness, but then he closed his eyes again. “Okay, not fucked, but in bad shape. How many hours do you have left?”

“Three. Just three one-hour practices with the kids.”

“I could do them,” I shrugged my shoulders, letting my eyes scan over his peaceful face. He was still in his uniform--the white shorts and jersey had dirt stains near the shoulders and knees. His left leg was still clad in his shin-guard, sock, and cleat, but the right had been stripped down. It was propped on a pillow that Aaron had set up and was now covered with an icepack.

He opened his eyes and looked at me as if I was crazy. “Nora--have you ever played soccer?”

“I mean, other than at recess or something, no. But I could just come as backup. I mean, you can still tell them what to do and whatever and I’ll be your legs.”

He let out a laugh--somewhat amused, but not taking the bait. “I don’t think it works that way.”

“Well--up to you. I don’t care. I’m just doing you a favor.”

He sighed and was quiet for a minute, only opening his eyes when Aaron came back into the room with a smile on his face. “Good news--not broken. Just a bad sprain and probably a bruised lower fibula.”

Aaron looked from Harry and then over to me. “Bad news,” he brought his eyes back to Harry. “Is that you’ll have to wear this for about ten days to two weeks,” he held up a large gray boot--the kind that you got when your ankle wasn’t broken, but it was all sorts of fucked up.

Harry let out a groan and pushed himself to sit up. “So how long am I out of practice and games?”

“Two weeks minimum. Dr. Hadley wants you to go to an orthopedist in a week to get a check-up and make sure nothing else is going on. If it’s just a sprain and deep bruise, you’ll be fine in a few weeks.”

I stood from my seat in the corner of the room and walked towards the bed. “Crutches too? What do we do about the fact that he can barely walk right now?”

“Crutches for sure--until it feels like you can bear the pressure. I’d think in two or three days you should be able to walk better.”

“Okay, how do we put this on?” I looked down at the boot that Aaron held in his hands, confused by the velcro and the flaps and the buttons on the sides.

“Here,” he said, lifting it up to Harry’s leg before gently removing the pillow and the ice pack.

“Fuck,” Harry let out a hiss, his teeth clenched together as his foot dropped to the bed. “Watch it, Aaron.”

“Harry,” I scolded him quickly, getting more annoyed by his fleeting patience.

Aaron laughed a little--which only enraged Harry more--as he opened the boot, helped Harry lift his leg inside, and then strapped him in. “Pretty easy,” he said. “Make sure it’s not too tight or too loose. Should feel just snug enough.”

“Does that feel okay, Harry?” I asked, wanting to ensure that the boot was exactly how it should be. The last thing I needed was for him to complain once we were home that it ‘felt funny.’

“S’fine,” he shrugged.

“Alright, well I’ll grab the discharge paperwork and get you out of here. You’re lucky you’ve got someone to help take care of you,” Aaron offered a smile in Harry’s direction--it almost seemed like he was either flirting with me or trying to piss Harry off.

Either way, it worked.  Harry spoke with narrowed eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “I know I am, Aaron--Nora’s fantastic. Please get the discharge papers.”

**

I’d successfully set up Harry in his bed with some Netflix and an ice pack when we got home. He paid for our Ubers to and from the hospital--so I figured I might as well get him some food and make sure that the rest of the guys were at least briefed on what to do if he started losing his shit.

Ryan was at the gym, but Niall and Alex were in the living room with Ethan when I closed the door to Harry’s bedroom.

“Jesus,” I let out a groan, making my way towards the kitchen to figure out what kind of food Harry kept in his apartment. “Can’t imagine what a dick he’d be if it was actually broken.”

The boys chuckled in response, but Niall and Alex kept their eyes on the video game they played. Ethan, whose eyes had been on me as soon as I appeared in the living room, stood to follow me into the kitchen.

“Has he been that bad?”

I rounded the corner, a wave of butterflies were unleashed in my stomach when I realized it was now just the two of us. I shrugged my shoulders, turning around to play it up. “I mean--I told you, things haven’t been too great between us.”

Ethan nodded solemnly, a mix of curiosity and sympathy seemed to play out on his face. “Yeah, that’s a bummer to hear.”

I did my best to stifle a laugh--not only because I was lying to Ethan’s face, but because he was buying it. I was playing the damsel in distress and he was eating it up. Something about it struck me as strange and dramatic and entertaining.

He took a step closer to me as I nodded, and I could have sworn I saw his eyes flicker down to my lips--but then, shouting from the living room as Niall seemed to throw his controller on the ground.

“I fuckin’ beat ya! Finally! Ethan? Did you see that?” He rounded the corner into the kitchen, only to find us staring at each other. “Did you see that?!”

“Happy for you, man,” Ethan laughed and turned to his friend. Niall didn’t even respond before darting back to the living room, his bragging continued as Alex started to bicker back. “Well, let me know if you need anything, Nora--I mean it.”

Kristen could say what she wanted about the whole fake dating thing. She could judge me or think it was ridiculous and Harry could think I was stupid for being into Ethan in the first place, but his words pulled a smile out of me.

Ethan Davis didn’t know who I was at the beginning of the semester. He didn’t know my name, he didn’t know my face, he didn’t even know that I existed on the same campus in Washington, DC.

But now, Ethan Davis was offering to be a shoulder to cry on--should I need it. So I thanked him, because what Ethan did not know, is that I’d be taking him up on his offer sooner than he thought.

AN: Y’ALLLLLLL this one came sooner than we though because things are HEATING UP. I know, I know, they still are being ridiculous and seem to have their heads up their asses, but don’t worry, neither Nora or Harry are really that stupid. Let me know what you think or if you’d like to be added to the tag list for updates!

tag: @zeeliz @bookofstyles @stylesfics-xx @biteharrysthigh @bathrobesinparadise @nataleefrantz @wanderlustiing @you-sure-are-magneato @flooome