#when they Are indeed into that shit they at least have enough iq points to Pretend that they arent

[thnksfrthchaos]

Been saying that to my fellow Czechs since i Gained Awareness of The American Government and The History of The Us (and the stereotype of their below freezing collective IQs and encountering some of those cases irl) since the year of our lord 2015, aka circa age 10 ish. Got called a radical mislead child but in hindsight i think i simply Knew more about these things than the average czech middle school teacher (i dont blame them. I am aware i just have. That Kind of Adhd. +bpd black and white thinking) (because, as ive stated before, in a Normal Universe No regular czech person should have to gaf about the us elections i cannot stress this enough)

Interestingly though, a few weeks before the elections but Especially since the polls went up, nobody has called me radical or disagreed with me, at least in me and my family's social circle

a pro všechny čechy co toto čtou:

Někdo si našel nový politický vzor,,

a nemůžu se dočkat az se od nich naučíme jako národ slovíčka jako jsou Indoktrinace a Transgendeři a zavedeme je do politických debat i zde

i hate the United States of America

[popponn]

a duck, a prince, and the snow.

note: was gonna make it hcs but uh. ehe. here, smth similar for chigiri haha. this is two iq shower thought situation. warning: none, fluff, post canon/pro au, reader’s gender unspecified, undertone of morons friends to lovers, prince & duckling (affectionately).

reo loves you enough to marry you the moment you demand it. with rings, grand ceremonies, and an even grander honeymoon. but the thing is, you are way too oblivious.

reo tries everything already—praises, flirting, dressing in the way you like the most, asking you to go to your favorite places together, buy you everything, special treatment, and many more. at this point, it’s probably easier to mention what he hasn’t tried yet—with “straight up confessing” sitting at the top of the “no way not yet no chigiri no nagi no way” chart. some people actually think this is some new brand of masochism—trapping oneself in a friendzone, but most of them stop thinking about this after seeing your dynamic with him once. as in it really is that painful to watch.

in your defense, this guy is indeed generous when he wants to be. so he could give you a diamond ring and you could read it either as a bribe for something or a random gift for that tuesday. the worst thing is probably how you are so genuinely unable to think of the more romantic possibility whilst the giving party is more than okay with it. really, sincerely, from the bottom of his heart.

because you could go “oh reo you are such a good friend! let’s be friends forever!” and this guy would probably look extremely constipated for 0.1 sec then before you could see it, all you got is a doting exasperation expressed through a charming prince smile on his face. in the way that is not even “ah well too bad, but we can do it next time” smile, but an “oh, how adorable. i truly am in love with them” smile. rinse and repeat for three years and more, that’s basically how this hellish adorable loop goes. talk about a guy who is in love with every part of you—even when the part is denser than a black hole.

but, like every fairytale, this prince too deserves a proper happy ending, doesn’t he?

Under the illuminations and falling snow, you wonder why Reo chooses to be here with you, walking through the cold December night with groceries in his hands. You feel bad for telling him that you are out shopping alone now, or at the very least you should have accepted his offer to bring his limousine. It feels wrong getting him carrying your things considering everything.

“Reo,” you begin sheepishly, reaching out to tug his jacket sleeve lightly with your empty hand. "You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

Reo, somehow, looks like he takes offense to that. “Huh? Why not? I want to. Plus, just imagining you waddling like a duck with two heavy grocery bags…” Dramatically, Reo trails off with a heavy sigh. A cloud of cold breath fogs his lips for a moment, but not enough to cover up the teasing smirk that follows, “…yeah, at least I want to watch that.”

You immediately nudge his side with an angry huff, all while fruitlessly trying to step on his feet. Whilst Reo laughs with too much mirth on his face, he avoids your vengeful foot with a grace that truly belongs to a professional soccer player. Some bystanders who walk past the two of you spares some glances, but as long as they do not recognize Reo who hides his face and hair under a miraculous yet simple black cap, you feel like you couldn’t care about them.

“I shouldn’t have felt bad for you! I’m trying to be considerate to your hands getting cramps and cold, you jerk!” you hissed finally, jutting out your tongue just as an extra gesture, before adding another protest as an afterthought, “And you called me a duck for that!?”

“You are worried about me? That’s sweet!” Reo smiles in a way that is positively shit eating. Then, he nudges back to your side, an act that is pretty much imitating your previous action, yet clearly, much gentler as he lets his shoulder stay pressed to yours as the two of you continue to walk. “Come on, don’t be mad. That means I will still take care of you even when you are a duck.”

You glare half-heartedly at that. Even if this sort of conversation—idle, with worth only the two of you could understand—is not rare, you really wonder why he seems so bubbly today. With your steps and his once again falling into a synchronous rhythm, you curiously ponder out loud, “So, what happened?”

Reo tilts his head, in a manner that is subjectively cute to you. “Hm?”

“Today, what happened? You seem happy. Did something good happen in your meeting? Or your training?”

“Uh… eh? Not really, honestly. Nagi was feeling kind of down, and Isagi also seemed to be in a bad mood, Rin—the younger Itoshi, you remembered?” he pauses, looking at your reaction before continuing after your nod. “Yeah, so that guy also got really angry today. Overall, it was a mess, but nothing new. The board meeting, uh, yeah—the greedy old guys somehow get greedier today.”

“Seriously?” You wince hearing all of those. “That… sounds like a really terrible day… are you okay?”

Reo’s face shifts once again into a very smug look, which you shoot down immediately with a glare straight to his handsome face. Seeing your unamused look, the half-lidded brattish look he wears immediately crinkles to a very bright happy look, with a smile that is wide enough to turn his eyes into a pair of crescent moons. It is beautiful—you think to yourself, silently, softly.

“Nah, as I said, nothing new about that too. Plus—” Reo suddenly leans his head against yours, letting his cold cheek glue itself against your equally cold one. Nonetheless, you still squawk ungracefully. “—I got a really cute duckling worrying about me and walking with me romantically like this. I will call that it’s a winning day!”

“Really now?” you ask again, exasperated and not really understanding the meaning behind his words. It feels like you are missing something—but you can’t really put a finger on it. Paying no more mind to that thought, you continue, “So, paying for me, coming running to me, and then getting me to walk with a prince who also carries my groceries is a payback for being the cute ducking?”

“Clearly,” Reo says, familiar pride and softness lacing his tone. It makes you laugh. It’s odd, but as how being in his presence really makes you feel at ease, it does feel pleasant to hear him feeling so with just a walk with you. But, before you can let that feeling settle quietly, Reo goes on, resting his gaze on you in a manner that feels too fond and affectionate, “But, even if without all those, I will still come running to you.”

Yet again, you feel like you are missing something. There is a heat that crawls up from the inner chamber of your chest, thrumming and warm and wonderful. Dizzying and confusing, but often presents itself for Reo and Mikage Reo only.

“I… I see,” you stammer out, your voice unconsciously turning into one that is just a few notes away from a whisper.

You don’t know what Reo sees in your expression, but with it, his eyes gleam in a very tender manner. “Well, but you see,” he begins, his voice mimicking a mocking tone, “while this prince’s hand is one warmed with groceries, the other one is still very empty and cold.”

“Oh?” you muse, seeing where this is going.

Boyish and as charming as always, Reo reaches his idle hand to yours, intertwining his finger with yours. One could say it feels like a scene from a drama, one could say it feels like something written by hopeless romantics, but ultimately, to you the fact that it is Reo that makes your breath hitches. Suddenly, it is very worrying if your hands are sweaty.

Wait, are they—

“Now, the prince feels very warm,” Reo, oblivious to your predicament, states cheekily with boldness veiling his eyes.

“…the prince is a prick,” you reply, knowing your defeat. It is unusual of him to do something like this, yet there is not even an ounce of desire in you to protest.

“As long as the duckling is okay with it, is it really a problem though?” he says, leaning even closer to your face.

At some point, you know you stop breathing. And Reo realizes it.

It is probably then that the tension between the two of you suddenly closes down its curtain. Something flashes through Reo’s eyes. And before you know it, the hold he has on your hand loosened, as if giving you permission to pull away.

Then, a part of your mind says, “Who cares about the duckling and prince anymore—”

And to that sentiment, you raise an enthusiastic agree.

Because it is Reo, probably, you tightened your hold around his hand. Your hand might be sweaty, and you might not get everything that is happening—but you know enough that this feels like the right choice.

“I am,” you answer resolutely, looking away from him and facing your front instead. “I am very okay with it.”

You have no courage to peek at your friend’s—your companion’s expression. And so, you miss the way his eyes light up, realizing and catching something that you haven’t realized yet. Thus, you too don’t expect the way he tugs you into a halt, stopping your steps just a few centimeters away from his.

When you turn to him, you find Mikage Reo. His eyebrows are furrowed under his cap, his lips bitten and pouting at the some time. With redness on his cheeks, as good-looking and as princely as he has always been to you, staring at you with a seriousness that spells out determination and more.

“Can I—”

On the middle of the sidewalk, surrounded by crowds who don’t recognize Mikage Reo and you, the two of you stand still. The snow continues to fall and none of you bring your gloves. In such a scene, Reo’s eyes never once left you.

“Can I tell you something?”

add. note: was it cheesy? unnecessarily so. did i lost the prompt somewhere? kinda. is it xmas? uh. what is this? uh. could it be better?...yeah i think i had fun tho <3 hope u too <3 blame jinshi and how this part came out the smoothest. also if this is in reo's pov lmao it's a mess there.

[1eos]

mx kendra, do you have any advice for job hunting? I'm about to start looking(again), but its always so intimidating - have a lovely day!

how it feels to start job hunting in the 2020s:

but yes i have advice for you anon! last time i went job hunting i got serious enough where i was reading 'askamanager' blogs and shit like that to really make sure i wasn't wasting my effort

so kendra's advice to job hunting in the most effort effective way:

first and most importantly is to understand that job hunting rn is simply a numbers game. it's not you it's just that the society we're living in is full of shit. for every 10 job postings, 4 are fake, 1 has an internal candidate in mind already, 3 are just posting jobs to look good and the rest are legit but slow af

bc job hunting is a numbers game its easy to be discouraged if you're not receiving responses consistently as proof that you're not just throwing shit into the void so its superrr imperative to try your best to apply to legit jobs. ive found my best success using indeed as a method of jobs being brought to me and then going on the company website myself and applying. this also doubles as a way to make sure a job posting/company is real

keep a spreadsheet of applied jobs. i just googled 'job application spreadsheet template' and picked one of the first ones i saw, made a copy, and then modified it to suit my needs. keeping a spreadsheet was one of the best things i did bc it can help keep track of jobs you've found and haven't applied to/ones you have applied to/and if you're like me and had a goal of getting a state job i could pre-empt when the interview requests were gonna come in lol 😭

resumes/cover letters. whew. probably the most important part of job hunting. ai scanning or not its a good rule of thumb to have skills mentioned in the job description to match the job posting. what i did was dedicate a folder in my google drive to job stuff and made a folder for each kind of jobs i was interested in. from there i would find a job i wanted to apply to and tailor an old resume to have a bunch of the shit mentioned in the posting on the new resume. i'd save it in the appropriate folder with the date i edited it. if you haven't been in the habit of tailoring your resume you may be doing this a lot but eventually you'll have so many variations you won't have to do much editing if at all. and i do the same with cover letters. i have a general template for my cover letter and then tweak them for each kinds of jobs im looking for. this + ditching linkedin helped me A LOT

create an interview cheatsheet. you probably already know the job hunting sphere has a language and culture all its own. personally as someone with a touch of the 'tism it do not make sense to me so i have unknowingly not navigated interviews as well as i could have. what's helped? ask a manager. seriously. miss allison has helped me blend in as a normie soooo much 😭😭😭😭 if you have any specific questions/have any specific weaknesses just search the site but what really helped me was the list of good interview questions. oh and for the longest i could never come up with a good question to ask my interviewer but one day google recced me this article and now every time i ask 'so what would separate a good candidate from an excellent candidate in this role' and when i tell you my interviewers gag every time lollllll. i also went through 'boost your interview iq' [pdf download link here <3] and jotted down notes on how i can answer common interview questions to quickly be able to go over the night before

study the job posting before the interview btw and try to drum up at least one correlating anecdote for some of the major points of the job bc they WILL ask you that lollllllll

[bunny9girl]

Headcanon: Omegaverse

Warning: little language and sexual moments

Problem: I don't push others away and label genders, I hate it. This is for any and all to read not just fem readers.

Rin x Reader 🔖

🔖Rin as a omega just think about it, soooo kawaii 😍

🔖But seriously he'll try and keep his second gender a secret, he doesn't want to be looked down on by anyone.

🔖You can't tell me otherwise!

🔖But when he met you his omega senses clicked right in. Your strong, brave, a little mean but also bit of a temper bitch.

🔖But perfect

🔖Taking suppressments, acting all high and mighty not letting anyone press him down

🔖Being a fake alpha

🔖Your alpha like status made your profile shine, not just that your one hell of a knight and tamer. Best in the class

🔖He wanted you to take him as your mate then and there. But he had to ignore his instincts and use his head.

🔖What made things difficult was his doubts and uncertaint thoughts. That wasn't all that held him back you both had things to do, important things to focus on and dreams to achieve.

🔖Fuck no! That's not what holds him back!

🔖Your freaking last name is holding him back!!!

🔖Pheles, bloody hell you had to be the clown's kid.

🔖He wanted nothing to do with Mephisto anymore the clown was enough, but you were nothing like that guy completely different that what he fell for

🔖Your personality, the way you are, he didn't just desire your body for sexual use or his heat. He wanted you as a person to love and care for, making you happy is all he wants.

🔖But it'll never happen. His a demon and his afraid to tell you that.

🔖Later on something kept running on his mind, if your Mephisto's kid and his a demon are you one two

🔖Have he not seen it or something?

🔖So he went straight to the source and ask Mephisto himself it was irritating talking to the clown but what piss him off more was that Mephisto answered him with a question

🔖"Why is it that you wanna know?. Mr okumura."

🔖"Come on man just tell me, stop beating around the bushes and tell me!"

🔖"So rude. Yes (Y/n) is indeed blood related to me, so what do you think?"

🔖He was lost for words he was happy and worried at the same time.

🔖Could you be together if you know about him

🔖Your already great friends have a lot of fun together enjoying time doing stupid shit when you two are chilling together both your IQ's drops to one, but being near one and other just felt right to him.

🔖Finally working up the courage to ask you out.

🔖This guy went all out! brought roses dressed in the nicest hoodie he owns did his hair even wrote a speech that took a week to finish

🔖It all flopped, he got nervous suttering not making sense at all, the words that left his mouth came out as wrong as if his chatterbox broke. His palms all sweaty smudging the ink on them making it hard to tell what he wrote.

🔖You just stood there with a smirk trying not to burst into laughter, the second he came to you with roses dress like a slop you already know that he wants to ask you out.

🔖You just sat back enjoying the show.

🔖It was cute, but started getting annoying.

🔖You had to sush him placing your hands on his cheeks, "it's okay chill, Rin. Yes I will go out with you." Those few words made him the happiest omega alive, he couldn't ask for more. Maybe ask your dad to fuck off cause Mephisto was peaking his out from a corner behind you.

🔖But his happy.

🔖When you two started dating it was a little confusing all the couple stuff not knowing what to do or what's right or wrong, what your partner wants or likes.

🔖You where all cool and relax about it figuring things out along the way... on the other hand Rin was dumb as fuck, he didn't know shit he even took exstra time Googling what couples does?

🔖When he finally found the perfect blog that shoot his taste, he started experimenting. With hugs

🔖He loves hugging you from behind pressing his chest against your back and hocking his arms around your waist, rubbing his cheek against yours.

🔖But you prefer, embarrassing him making him blush. You hug him normally wrapping your arms around his waist pressing your bodies against each other his face in your neck and your in his, but your hands though goes straight down to his buttcheeks giving them a squeeze

🔖He blushes fifty shades of red!!! No end becoming all defensive and making no sense, but secretly he likes it.

🔖With hugs comes cuddling, but your form of cuddling is a bit different whenever he is busy or chilling you just lazily get on him.

🔖In cram school you sometime lean on his side wrapping your arms around him protective, when his studies you sit on his lap facing him as your bodies press together he rests his chin on you shoulder looking at his work, when he lays on the bed you just flop on him no matter what position just fall on him

🔖Holding hands, no big deal you two use to do it a lot before dating, just taking each other's hand in the mall or in public making sure not to lose each other in big open places

🔖It came naturally to you two not one of you are embarrassed or nervous. It was okay

🔖Next's was kissing, he expected a normal peck on the lips, but from you he got the best make out session of his life, but what he hates the most is when your angry that you found a new way to cool yourself down.

🔖Yes you kiss him just a normal average kiss, but to get to the kiss you suddenly without any warning whatsoever grab a hand full of his hair forcefully pull his face near yours.

🔖At least his happy you don't curse or kick random things around you or break whatever is in your hand if your holding something that is, as much as you used to before.

🔖When eating together you and Rin started sharing food without knowing, at times making each other taste your food or genuinely splitting a milkshake.

🔖Rin is actually very simple, pretty much gullible and naive at times, so taking him on a date is pretty easy you once took him too the aquarium and he had a blast like a 5 year old kid, so next time just take him to the zoo, he'd run around pointing silly things out and do all the things mention for kids.

🔖You guys take naps together all the time, just shows how much you enjoy each other company but it's best to find a different napping place other than during class.

🔖Rin is good at cooking we all know that, he loves to bake but you not so much. Your father is freaking Mephisto Pheles ofcourse your going to love junk food just as much as the clown does. You rather have instant ramen than eat a full course meal Rin took hours to make just cause you hate homemade meals.

🔖One thing that Rin will never stop is wearing your oversized hoodies it has you scent all over it making it feel like home to him, not just that he likes getting you two matching outfits or secretly pick out your outfit for the day. He even brought matching bracelets which you love thinking it's cute your omega wants to show his love

🔖You love reading and it makes you relax jumping into a new world, while Rin lays on your chest between your thighs sometime taking short naps or not, while you run your fingers through his hair letting him enjoy the little massage

🔖But.. You suddenly get pissed and either through the book or literally take a lighter wanting to burn the book which he has to stop you.

🔖 When the others found out about your relationship they where actually suprised it took them this long, especially Yukio.

🔖in all honesty Yukio tried giving Rin the talk, which ended awkward.

🔖Mephisto knew from the beginning, he really didn't care as long as your okay that's that.

🔖Suguro was beyond furious, jealous by how Rin got a lover before him which turned into a big mess of teasing and yelling between the two

🔖The others congrat you guys happy for the newly formed couple.

🔖You love Rin but sometimes you can't tolerate the people he hangs out with, you hate Shiemi and Yukio.

🔖Shiemi once tried to take your omega. Which result in you giving her a rude attitude and telling her to shove off. But Rin was quick to defend her... it turned into a full blown argument.

🔖And Yukio, tried separateding you two by secretly getting you mad at each other, you where able to catch on fast and exspose Yukio, Rin turned to your side on this getting angry at his brother.

🔖Sometimes he gets jealous that you hang out with Suguro and Shima the most. He get all whiny about it which you reinsurer him your only his alpha.

🔖When you get jealous you immediately turn violent, you once tried to kill Shiemi for wrapping her arms around Rin's arm, or when Shura hugged him to her chest, even when Izumo wore Rin's jacket.

🔖Ready to tear off their heads. But you have to contain yourself.

🔖At some point you did stumble upon Rin's nest, it wasn't in his room but in one of the many rooms in the dormitory he and Yukio lives in alone, it was like any other nest filled with blankets pillows you could find one or two suff animals in there and clothes... your missing clothes.

🔖But you just left it not wanting to do anything to it, it is his save place after all you have to wait till he willingly allows you in on his own terms it is privacy after all.

🔖Scenting is something you guys do regularly, Rin just wants your scent to feel comfortable he got so use to it, makes him feel uneasy if he doesn't get to rub on you. You enjoy it equally if he doesn't scent a stuff animal or two that is yours you might get angry and punch a hole through the wall

🔖Rin loves you dearly but he didn't bonded with you in the way he thought he would.

🔖Somehow you came down in a rut affecting him aswell, falling into an early heat.

🔖Your will power was long gone force yourself on him giving him the most lovable night he'd never forget you where so gentle and caring taking care of him before yourself. It took everything in you not to fuck his brains out.

🔖But with that it came with you slipping for a second, biting on nape so hard making him bleed, made him scream in pain mixed pleasure.

🔖it took you awhile to have Rin bite you in return cause he didn't what to hurt you and was nervous about it.

🔖But afterwards you showed off the mark wearing it with pride, pinning your hair up (if you don't have long hair just ignore it.) And wearing shirts that exspose more of you neck and shoulders.

🔖After bonding you two stayed near each other having issues with separating for more than half an hour, this result in you leaving your dad's home moving into the dormitory Rin lives in both of you claimed a different room.

🔖Rin rebuilt his nest in both of yours room giving you full access.

🔖Others seem to keep asking you what it like in a alpha x alpha relationship, which confused you.

🔖But you simply answer with either ignoring them or "Just like any other relationship?"

🔖After becoming intimate, you love walking around him shirtless and pantsless. You can either get a blush or a horny moan out of him.

🔖Something more intimate is taking a bath with each other you can't keep your hands to yourself at times like these.

🔖giving each other pet names are normal and cute.

🔖Rin mostly prefers calling you- Babe, sweetheart or handsome/beautiful.

🔖You on the other hand call him- Baby cakes, love, Darling or idiot

🔖But in bed he once accidentally let a Daddy/mommy kink slip his mouth, it turned you on more than ever.

🔖But in bed you call his name mixed with a lot of dirty talk. Which gets him all rile up.

🔖Studying together is not a good option anymore you both can't concentrate, can't keep your hands off your lover, randomly start goofing off or get horny.

🔖You regularly get more piss off at Yukio more than Rin does, When mission come around your either stuck on a lame team or with Rin not allowed in the action.

🔖During the camping trip or exercise, instead of bringing back a lantern you kinda got lost in the forest.

🔖And only reunited with the others when Rin went viral, blue flames every where the trees burning and mist of the students were injured.

🔖Yes Amiomon did think about using you before Shiemi but it wasn't a good idea since Mephisto refused for obvious reasons.

🔖Number one the would have not been able to control you much less get underneath your skin though to your superior abilities.

🔖Number two you would've beating the shit out of Aniomon even if he wasn't your uncle.

🔖And lastly number 3 Your a demon with a class near Mephisto, he could've exspose it if you fought Amiomon but keeping you a secret from the order is more important than Rin.

🔖After all that crazy shit, Rin couldn't look you in the eye now you know he's a demon there could've been hope if he was just any other demon but his the span of satan himself.

🔖He doubt you would want to have him as your omega anymore.

🔖It sadden him and made him depress losing the cheerful happy attitude. Not just his behavior that changed as well as his scent it started becoming displeasing and disgusting.

🔖You treated him the same as you always do, you already knew everything since Mephisto opened his big mouth and blab to you long before you and Rin got together

🔖your also the first to feel the change in your omega, but thought it was cause of the way the others treat him.

🔖But it wasn't the same when he avoided you and didn't let you in him nest.

🔖At some point you had enough, doing something that an alpha shouldn't, you drag Rin straight out his nest to confront him

🔖It started in a argument leading of to crying and yelling, it ended with you mostly trashed the room, and the words never spoken once from you

🔖"I love you!" It made Rin extremely happy knowing you love him dearly.

🔖"I love you too"

🔖You two were finally on the same page again, continuing your relationship. Loving and cuddling.

🔖When the others treated Rin bad you where the one to comfort him and give him a not of ice cream.

🔖That's till Izumo birthday came aroun, You don't celebrate birthdays since your a demon and all much older than you look.

🔖You even helped Rin decorate the cake that was clearly Christmas themed, which confused you but you just brushed it off.

🔖Until Suguro yelled at you two claiming it was clearly not a birthday cake.

🔖They could understand Rin's explanation being that his birthday is really close to Christmas it is natural to celebrate the two on the same day not using up much money.

🔖You on the other hand were a different case, they where honestly worried, who would tell someone

🔖"I don't celebrate my birthday, I really don't care and truthfully I don't know the date to my birth?"

🔖What?

🔖Yes, you read it Mephisto never told you, and you really don't care about minor stuff like that.

🔖You suggest to them to just give the cake to Mephisto, your old man isn't much of a Christmas fan after all

🔖It was fun. And so where the rest of your days with Rin.

🔖Really happy.

***

Thanks sis for the request... I'm blocking you🤗❤

[threeletterslife]

Insurrection (It’s About Time)

→ [4/7] of the Glossary Series

→ summary: If you told Park Jimin he was going to fall in love with a young cult leader, he would've laughed. But honestly, who's laughing now??

→ pairing/rating: jimin x reader | PG-15

→ genre: 90% angst, 9.9% fluff, 0.1% crack | high school!au

→ warnings: death, mentions of suicide, academic dishonesty, cult-like activities, profanity, school threats (bombs & shootings)

→ wordcount: 18.3k

→ a/n: this is a story that is near and dear to my heart. it actually kind of hurt to write because a lot of these scenes are similar to my experiences or the experiences of loved ones. i’ve had this idea for almost two years now and i finally decided to write it out. i hope you enjoy (:

Jimin is punctual. In fact, he is on another level of punctuality. At any given event, he arrives at least fifteen minutes early. For what reason? His answer would be 'just in case.' There are a plethora of events that can go wrong, a multitude of catastrophes that can erupt in his face last-minutely. Jimin's not going to take any chances jeopardizing his own future.

Especially his future in education.

Much accordingly, since he is exceedingly punctual, Jimin can not—for the love of god—stand people who dilly dally. The atrocity of them to dare to be late and waste others' time!

This is the exact reason why he absolutely despises his calculus teacher.

I sacrificed my goddamn lunchtime studying for this exam. And now he decides to be late.

Jimin's hands shake violently as he brings up his notes to his face, eyes boring into the paper filled with equations and example problems. Hands clammy and sticking to the paper, he balances himself on the balls of his feet and rocks in an attempt to try to settle his spiked nerves.

This is definitely not a good way to start off finals weeks.

Jimin has exactly an 88.3% in AP Calculus BC, and a morbid B+ will do no good in his future—at least that's what the school propaganda and his parents say. He'll have to score extremely well on this fall semester's final exam, especially because his teacher refuses to round up the grades.

Goddamn. He's really late. Late to his own final.

Jimin starts biting his nails again. At this point, there isn't much nail to bite left, but he manages to gnaw at the skin around it. It's a small habit that goes far; he does it when he's nervous, but nail-biting always does such little to do away with his gargantuan amount of stress.

In frustration, Jimin lets out a massive sigh, clutching at his chest where his lungs threatened to collapse on him. His stomach feels tight and queasy, which doesn't have much to do with the fact that he hadn't eaten. He is just anxious. Unlike the others around him.

Next to Jimin, Jeon Jungkook, his friend, casually leans against the brick wall, eyes focused on his phone screen as he mumbles nasty profanities under his breath. "That's motherfucking right, die, bitches," he mutters. Jungkook moves his body along with the avatar inside his game. He's so into it that his eyes gleam when he reigns victorious. "Ha!" he screeches, throwing up his hands. "Fuck you, you cowards! I win!"

Jungkook finally looks up from his game and meets eyes with Jimin. He grins. "Hey, bro, wanna log on too?"

Jimin's mouth hangs open with a mixture of complete surprise and utter disapproval. "We have a final this period, Jungkook. Aren't you the tiniest bit worried?"

He regrets asking that because he knows the answer he's going to get.

"No, not really," Jungkook snorts. He looks back at his phone screen and hoots. "Fuck, yeah! He's not here yet! I think I can squeeze in another game."

If Jimin's parents knew that his friend—aside from his straight A's and musical accomplishments—played video games, namely Fortnite, to pass time, they'd probably transfer Jimin to another school. A school that could be worse than this one. Which might as well be a prison.

Jimin shakes his head, harshly gripping his notes and looking away from Jungkook. Jimin doesn't want to admit it, but he's jealous. While he's stuck having a mini internal breakdown over the teacher's tardiness, Jungkook's taking the extra leisure time to play some shitty mobile game.

It's unfair. Jungkook gets his straight A's without moving so much of a goddamn muscle. While Jimin, on the other hand, has to stay up until four in the morning every other day, studying or doing homework from the moment he's awake to the time he goes to bed. He will never understand why, despite his grueling efforts, that he has a fair share of B's in his transcript.

It's a shitty, unfair system. But then again, it was set up to be unfair, anyways. Here at Welton High School, every student has taken a rigorous entrance exam, of which only the top 25% scoring students are accepted. Every student is well above average—they are students from all over the world and have probably never heard the word 'average' spoken to them in their entire lives. Until they faced Welton, of course. Now of the top 25%, only 1% can truly be special.

Jimin sometimes thinks that when he was accepted to Welton, he must've been barely at the cut off line. He speculates that he must've been in the top 24.99%, and was very lucky that he wasn't waitlisted.

He worked twice as hard from freshman year until now, junior year, to be on level with the young, walking Einsteins of Welton. But no matter how hard Jimin tries, he has never been able to outsmart the intellectuals who were born to change the world with their IQ's alone.

Competition is way too fierce.

No, Jimin thinks. Competition is deadly.

And it is. Student suicides, school shooting threats (from the students), student protests... Teenagers crack under pressure. But what can Jimin do about it? The system's shitty, yes, but he has no choice but to follow it, or else the promise of a stable future goes down the drain and into the sewer. For that exact reason, Jimin studies like there's no tomorrow every day.

Wake up. Go to school. Eat. Study. Sleep (if he's lucky). Wake up (sometimes). And do it all over again.

So fine. Jimin's jealous of Jeon Jungkook. Because he doesn't seem to put in the effort for his perfect grades. And it irks Jimin. But it shouldn't. Jungkook's his friend, so Jimin should be happy for him.

It's hard though when the person you're closest to is so far beyond your league that you begin to think yourself inferior to them.

"Sorry, class!" Jimin's calc teacher huffs as he nearly spills over his coffee while skidding to a stop in front of the classroom door. "We've lost time for the final! Get in your seats, take out a pencil, eraser and graphing calculator! Be ready in your seats so I can pass out the exams!" he orders in a frenzy.

How can you be so irresponsible? Jimin thinks, glaring daggers at the back of his teacher's head.

He's almost blinded by rage until he realizes what he's really here for: to take the test. Right. His stomach flips at the thought. Jimin shoves his notes into his backpack, wincing when he hears some of the papers ripping.

Shit, this is the moment. He's been dreading this exact time for weeks now. Each step into the familiar class makes him feel like he's walking the plank, inching closer and closer to his impending doom.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Jimin feels a migraine creeping in already. I don't know if I can do this.

Next to him, Jungkook is still playing Fortnite. Jimin doesn't know if he should spitefully tell his friend to stop or to let him continue. God, it's not fair.

Jimin's teacher is all over the place, holding his cup of coffee while also carrying dozens of test booklets in the other hand. For a split second, Jimin wishes his teacher would spill his coffee on the tests. Maybe that would delay the final. Maybe Jimin would get his first stroke of good luck in the nearly three years of high school he had already faced.

But luck is not on Jimin's side today. It never was.

The test booklets make it out in perfect condition, and Jimin's slightest bit of hope is crushed when his teacher finally sets down his coffee on his desk.

"Get your tests! Come on, pick them up!" his teacher shrills. Jimin breathes in deeply. At this point, he's just going to accept his fate. He might as well accept a B+ in this class. God, I feel faint.

"Don't write on the test," the teacher continues. "The scratch paper is up here if you need it and—"

The loud, blaring fire alarm interrupts him. It echoes deafeningly through the class, the raucous noise piercing through Jimin's ears to such an extent that he covers them with his hands. Jimin shakes in his seat, making eye contact with Jungkook.

For once in his life, Jungkook looks confused in a class setting. 'What the fuck??" he mouths aggressively to Jimin.

What the fuck, indeed.

Sometimes, the administration liked to schedule secret fire drills to get the students and staff better prepared in case of a real emergency. But really, during finals week? When students are already nerve-wracked from exam season? God, they had no shame for fuck's sake.

Jimin's teacher sighs, running his fingers through his head of unkempt hair. "All sorts of things happening today," he mutters to himself. "Must be a mistake," he declares with an affirmative nod of the head. "Class, as I was saying before—"

"Holy fuck, the other classes are evacuating!" Jungkook shrieks, pointing out the classroom window. Sure enough, teachers are already herding their students outside to the evacuation areas on the soccer fields. "I don't think this is a dr—"

Before Jungkook finishes his sentence and the teacher disciplines him for his explicit choice of language, the intercom buzzes, momentarily halting the horrendous fire alarm. Everyone freezes and it goes completely silent. So silent that Jimin can hear his own heartbeat.

A loud crackle and another buzz ring from the intercom, then the principal begins to speak in a hurried voice: "This is not a drill. Please proceed to evacuate out of the buildings. Thank you."

The moment he finishes, the intercom crackles again and the fire alarm carries on.

Jimin's anxiety flies to the roof. Not a drill? What could've possibly happened?

His teacher looks almost as—or even more—shaken as Jimin and he yells panicked directions to the students. "I'll be the last one out! Meet me at our safety corner on the field!"

Jimin quickly finds Jungkook and the two of them walk side by side out of the building. As soon as Jimin can see the sky, he looks up instinctively to check for smoke. But there is none. In fact, the sky looks clearer than normal today.

"Do you even think there's a fire?" Jimin asks his friend. He almost lets out a scoff of disbelief when he sees Jungkook playing his mobile game again.

"No idea," Jungkook replies nonchalantly, jabbing at his screen with his thumb. "Don't think it's anything serious. Probably just a small fire in chem class. Nothing to worry about."

Jimin's still uneasy. "You don't think anyone's hurt, do you?"

At that, Jungkook hums, his forehead creasing slightly as he finally shuts off his phone and pockets it. "There's no ambulance," he points out. Jungkook turns to Jimin fully, grinning at him to Jimin's shock. "Loosen up, Jimin. This is junior year. We might have a chance at canceled finals because of this real evacuation! Now isn't that nice?"

"I guess..." Jimin mumbles. But I need the final to raise my grade...

It's strange to see his peers smiling and laughing as they walk side by side with their friends. It's almost as if the fire alarm isn't threateningly blaring in the background. Do none of them care that this could be a serious matter??

"By the looks of it, we're definitely going to skip the calc final today!" Jungkook shouts victoriously, pumping his fist in the air. "No more fucking math!"

"True..." Jimin admits nervously. "But he might have to take the final after school..." He's almost too embarrassed to say that he needs this final to raise his grade.

Jungkook snorts. "Welton's not allowed to keep us after school with such short notice," he says. "If things go right, we might not have finals for the rest of the day."

When Jungkook puts it that way, the thought sounds heavenly.

"Yo! Bros!" a familiar voice calls, breaking Jimin from his reverie. "Y'all okay? We could've literally died!"

It's Taehyung, Jimin's other friend. The only guy in the whole school who's unafraid to use the word 'y'all' and be judged for it.

"Man, I heard the girl's locker room caught on fire!" Taehyung announces.

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow. "Unless you were in there, how would you know?" he teases.

Jimin laughs as Taehyung huffs disapprovingly. "Some girls told me. I would never sneak in there," he pouts, crossing his arms.

"Really?" Jimin says. "How would the fire have started in there, though?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised to see what goes down in the girl's locker room," Jungkook says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"What went down so hard to cause a fire??" Jimin asks.

"Nah, don't believe him, Minnie," Taehyung laughs. "Jungkook probably sneaks in there from time to time to be a little perv."

Jungkook shrugs, unfazed by the accusation. He even plays along with it. "Well, I need something interesting to do in my high school career."

At that, Jimin and Taehyung shoot each other a look. Them and a majority of the students at Welton don't have enough hours in the day to study, let alone to seek for 'something interesting to do' in their high school careers. It's so like Jeon Jungkook, the genius, to say shit like this.

"Whatever, y'all," Taehyung says. "I don't even care what happened. We're still alive, you know? I'm just glad I'm missing out on that stupid physics final."

"Lucky," Jimin says. "I'm supposed to take that shit tomorrow."

"Uh, yeah, if there even is a tomorrow," Jungkook says, scrolling through his phone. Jimin thinks he's playing some mobile game again, but he soon realizes he's reading something. "It's not a fire in the girl's locker room after all..."

The three boys immediately stop walking, Taehyung and Jimin looking over Jungkook's shoulder to read what was on his screen. It's an email sent from the principal to all attending students and their guardians:

Dear Welton Community,

Today at approximately 12:48 pm, an unidentified caller phoned in a bomb threat to Welton High School. The caller stated seven pipe bombs had been planted on campus and were going to detonate in 25 minutes. The Police Department was called and immediately responded. Along with them, the School Administration decided to evacuate all buildings and bomb-sniffing dogs were called to search the entire school. When they have completed their search, I will send out another message to our community with the all-clear.

Thank you.

Bombs. Bombs?!?! Jimin panics again. Actual bombs! Seven pipe bombs could do serious damage—maybe even decimate half of the population of Welton High. What if they go off? Will this really be the end?

"Well, that explains the excessive amount of helicopters flying above us," Jungkook says, shrugging.

Before Jimin can shoot his friend a look of utter incredulity, he hears the sharp voice of his calc teacher. "Jimin! Jungkook! What are you doing out of line? I'm taking roll!"

"The Grinch is calling," Jungkook snickers. "We'll see you later," he tells Taehyung who salutes the two of you.

"See you guys," Taehyung says before sauntering off to his physics class.

"Text us!" Jimin calls.

Taehyung doesn't turn around but gives two big thumbs up indicating that he had heard Jimin.

Quickly, Jimin and Jungkook get in line while their dratted teacher takes roll. Once they see that their teacher isn't eagle-eyeing them, they slip out their phones, opening their group chat with Taehyung. It looks like Taehyung had already sent them multiple texts. All cries of pity.

Group: dead men + kook

[half-dead cowboy]: y'alls

[half-dead cowboy]: literally save me

[half-dead cowboy]: idk anyone in this class

[half-dead cowboy]: keep me entertained

[half-dead cowboy]: don't leave me hanging

[half-dead cowboy]: guyds

[half-dead cowboy]: guys*

[nO yOu]: serves u right for deciding to take physics ii lmfaoo

[half-dead cowboy]: shut up kook

[half-dead cowboy]: where's my boi minnie when i need him

[lil dead man]: Shit Tae I keep forgetting to tell you not to call me that

[half-dead cowboy]: you know why?

[half-dead cowboy]: because you not-so-secretly lobr it

[half-dead cowboy]: ugh

[half-dead cowboy]: love*

[nO yOu]: how did u even get in welton tae lmfao u can't even spell

[half-dead cowboy]: no

[half-dead cowboy]: i can SPELL i can't TYPE

[half-dead cowboy]: there's a difference you jerky

[half-dead cowboy]: ARE YOU KIDDING ME

[half-dead cowboy]: jerk********

[lil dead man]: AHAHAHAHAHAHAH

[nO yOu]: i feel quite honored to b called a jerky

[half-dead cowboy]: stfu

[nO yOu]: no for real bro

[nO yOu]: thank you

[lil dead man]: Back at it again with the sarcasm Kook

[lil dead man]: Anyways what's the girl's locker room like ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[half-dead cowboy]: not the lenny face

[half-dead cowboy]: please no

[nO yOu]: nO yOu

[lil dead man]: How long have you been waiting to say that

[nO yOu]: months

[nO yOu]: thanks for noticing. u my man

[nO yOu]: also if tae won't say anything bout the girl's locker room i will

[lil dead man]: What the fuck bro I thought you were joking when you say you knew the shit that went down????

[nO yOu]: lmfao i'm still jokin chillax minnie

[half-dead cowboy]: i hate you guys :((((((

[nO yOu]: damn that frowny face has 6 chins holy mothatruckafucka

[half-dead cowboy]: :(

[lil dead man]: That's more like it!!

[half-dead cowboy]: hold up hold up

[half-dead cowboy]: oh shoot y'all hearing this?

[nO yOu]: no?? we're texting? wE hAvE nO vOicE

[half-dead cowboy]: no you illiterate f*cks they just cleared the school the bomb threat as phony

[lil dead man]: Whew

[lil dead man]: I'm happy I won't blow up into smithereens but also pissed off as fuck that we'll have to live to take finals??

[nO yOu]: agreed, minnie

[nO yOu]: k but more importantly

[nO yOu]: tae did you just censor out a fucking cuss word

[half-dead cowboy]: i'm trying not to cuss as much anymore if you haven't noticed. but y'all make it f*cking hard. f*ck

[lil dead man]: We'Re sOrRy wE'Re bAd iNflUenCe

[half-dead cowboy]: :(((((((((((((((

[nO yOu]: 15 chins lets git itttt

[half-dead cowboy]: F*CK Y'ALL

It feels strange. The shortened school day had been so eventful... but also uneventful? Sure, there was a bomb threat, but it had been fake. Jimin thought a full-on Hollywood action scene would've commenced after the bombs detonated, but the bombs were never there in the first place. There weren't any finals either. All of them had been rescheduled to take next week, which was good news for most students.

It wasn't just good news, too. It was great news. Superb news. The best news students have gotten since they began attending Welton High School. Now, students are thanking the bomb threat for its rather impeccable timing. Some are even pissed that it hadn't happened earlier (so more finals could have been missed).

"We need to celebrate this once in a lifetime opportunity!" Taehyung announces as soon as the three boys are reunited. "It's not every day that a bomb threat cancels your finals!"

"We deserve a break, anyways," Jimin says. "I'm down. Kook?"

"Mm..." Jungkook makes an unintelligible sound at the back of his throat as he pauses his video game with the tap of his finger. "Sorry guys. Can't. Have to go somewhere."

"You?" Taehyung gasps dramatically. "Have plans?"

"And without us?" Jimin says, feigning a hurt expression. "Are you ditching us?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "No. I'm just... busy."

"Ha! Busy," Taehyung snorts. "Yeah, busy with that little sophomore girl you've been—cough—seeing."

"What the fuck," Jungkook scoffs. "How do you know about that?"

Taehyung opts not to answer the question, instead, he giggles. "It's a date, isn't it?" he sings.

Jungkook puffs out his cheeks in annoyance. "Fine," he says, slipping his phone inside his back pocket. "It's a date."

"Oh, we are so following you," Taehyung says.

"Don't you dar—"

"No, we're following you," Jimin grins.

"No, I swear to fucking g—"

Jimin and Taehyung are following Jungkook. The boy's surprisingly agile as he zig-zags around stumpy trees, tall bushes and overflowing trash cans. Sometimes, he quickly looks behind him as if to see if someone was trailing his back. Every time, Jimin's heart sinks with the fear of being caught, but Taehyung seems to love the thrill of the adrenaline rush.

At this rate, Jimin feels like an outlaw. But he's only just chasing his rather suspicious-looking friend. Or maybe he really wanted his relationship with the sophomore girl as a secret?

Or maybe there was no sophomore girl in the picture at all. Jimin's not too sure.

"It's as if he doesn't want anyone to know he's dating a teeny weeny 10th grader," Taehyung whispers, a mischievous grin stuck on his lips.

Yeah. If the girl exists. But Jimin doesn't say that. "I wonder who she is," he whispers back. "I mean, who on earth is worthy of dating our Kook?"

"My expectations for this girl are high," Taehyung snorts. "She better be the most intelligent girl I've ever—wait, what the fucK??"

The latter is more of a reaction. Taehyung grabs Jimin's arm, pulling him to take refuge behind a particularly bushy bush. He points at a rather unsettling scene unfolding before them.

Through the leaves of the shrub, Jimin can make out Jungkook, all right. There's also a girl—who might be a sophomore, standing confidently on a tree stump. Jimin doesn't even know if you go to Welton. But what makes the whole situation peculiar is that there are others—including Jungkook—gathered in this little half-forest clearing. And they're gathered around the tree stump in which the girl is standing on.

Jimin tries to make a rough estimate of the number of people—seemingly students because they're all wearing backpacks— in his head. Twelve? Maybe fifteen students? He's confused, furrowing his brows as he squints at them through the bush. "What's this shit for?" he whispers to Taehyung who looks equally confused.

"No idea," Taehyung mutters. "Looks like a cult," he snorts. "But it could be a stupid Fortnite club for all I know."

"I doubt that a club would meet at such a sketchy place," Jimin murmurs to himself.

There is something definitely fishy going on here...

Jungkook blends in way too easily in the crowd of supposed students. The only person that stands out is the girl. The one on the tree stump. She stands casually, favoring her left leg. She's petite, but her posture and stance emit an aura of valiance and authority. Her eyes seem to sparkle with determination and her lips are curled up in a happy smile. A... victorious smile.

"That's her!" Taehyung whispers aggressively. "The girl I've seen our Kook with! The little sophomore!"

Ah... She's a sophomore... Jimin nods, cocking his head as his eyes scan the group of students to see if he recognized anyone other than Jungkook. He sees a few seniors (that he can't quite remember the name of) and finds it weird that they're huddled below the sophomore girl as if waiting for her command.

Whoever she is, she's the leader. The president, maybe? Of whatever club this was? If it even was a club, that is.

Jimin's thoughts are proven when the girl clasps her hands together, taking a deep breath before bellowing out a "Thank you for coming!" She offers a friendly wave to everyone looking up to her (literally) in awe.

Jimin has never seen the genius himself, Jeon Jungkook, respecting an underclassman before. Even the seniors in the crowd look at the girl approvingly. As if she were a queen and not just the president of a small club.

The girl speaks again in her light, lilted voice, turning to a lanky boy with unkempt blonde hair covering his eyes. "Yoongs! Attendance, please?"

"Perfect attendance, Y/N!" the boy deemed as Yoongs reports back to the girl. He winks. And she—Y/N—blushes.

Jimin frowns. What was going on???

You giggle, looking fondly at Yoongs before returning your attention to the rest of the crowd. "So, our experiment worked as expected," you say, shrugging rather casually. "I did feel bad for wasting people's time..." you trail off, unsure.

Experiment? Jimin feels chills run down his spine when he realizes you probably mean the bomb threat.

"It was worth it, babe!" Yoongs calls from the group.

You smile. "It's always worth it," you reply. "I'll make today's meeting short for those of you working on college apps and the others of you participating in competitions."

You're so casual in the way you speak—as if the people you were looking over were your friends. But you're also entrancing. As if everyone else has to be silent to hear what great words you have to say. And apparently, you have a lot on your mind to share.

"As I always say," you start, "never waste your time on your grades. They don't define you. Nor will they shed a light on the person you are inside. Nevertheless, everyone here should have straight A's..." you smile, looking over at Yoongs. "A round of applause for Yoongi's excellent coding skills for which we would've never been able to pull this off without them!"

The crowd erupts in enthusiastic applause, leaving Yoongi beaming from his proud accomplishments.

You wait for the crowd to simmer down before speaking again. "We tricked and cheated the system," you admit. "You might have doubts about that. Morality and integrity may play into your thoughts. But," you take a dramatic pause, "how moral are grades, really? They're tools for adults, which is as far as it goes. Teachers corrupt the system, watch silently as all hell breaks loose from the intense student competition... They make it a game. They know you'll do anything to get the letter grade you want," you take a painful breath. "We're only fighting against something that is as equally as or more morally ambiguous. The world cares about you as a human. They won't care about a robot that spits out impeccable grades but has no soul, no passion, no life. They want you at your best—what you can do that will benefit others. We don't need to take part in something as trivial as our high school grades, do we?" you smile as the students around you cheer.

"Of course... college is a different story. Depending on the college you go, that is..." you trail off. "When you start to learn about things that you have a genuine interest in, that's when grades might matter. But for now, struggling this hard on obscure subjects that you'll never touch again after graduating from Welton? I say it's a good thing we're cheating the system. How great was the system anyway to have contributed to three student suicides in the last two years?"

There's a collective murmur as students nod their heads.

"A moment of silence for Heegyung, Bonsoo and Chaewoon, please," you say, voice barely above a whisper but everyone hears what you say and they all bow their heads down to obey. You, yourself, close your eyes. Your face is etched with pain and actual remorse, which makes Jimin feel a little guilty he wasn't truly mourning the students' deaths.

After a few minutes pass, you clear your throat, blinking your eyes open and waiting for the other students to look up at you again. "Ah, yes," you say. "Thank you for the short mourning period we were able to squeeze into this meeting... But now to get to the purpose of this gathering," you pause for a split second before continuing again. "The finals you will have to take next week shouldn't be as stressful as other school days. Apply our methods and you'll be fine. If you need extra help, text me as soon as possible." You pause again, but this time, it wasn't to gather your thoughts, it was to shift the mood of your speech. A bright grin settles on your face.

"Now, for the moment we've all been waiting for!" you exclaim. "Let's give a special round of applause for Jeon Jungkook and Min Yoongi for their collaboration on this excellent evacuation plan!"

The crowd does more than applaud. Students whoop, yell and chant their names. But Jimin's not in a celebratory mood.

Jungkook did what?? Jimin shoots Taehyung a panicked look. It was one thing to realize that this group of students probably somehow organized the bomb threat, but it was another thing to realize that Jungkook was a large part of it.

"It was extremely difficult to create an automated call that couldn't be traced—" you begin.

"Eh, it wasn't that bad," Yoongi shrugs nonchalantly. "Child's play."

You laugh, eyes twinkling as your turn to Yoongi. "Well, thank you," you say. "Ah, and as for Jungkook, thank you for volunteering to use your voice to record the bomb threat. It must've been so nerve-wracking."

Jungkook snorts, shaking his head. "All I really did was speak into a mic. And we totally distorted my voice. Severely fucked up the frequencies and all that."

Jimin's blood runs cold. He looks over at Taehyung with his eyes wide. His friend isn't faring any better with his jaw clenched and fists tightened.

"It took an immense amount of courage to sacrifice your voice for an experiment like this," you say, smiling down at the older boy. "Oh, yeah! How's your album going, by the way?"

Jungkook beams. "It's going great!" he says happily. "I've been having so much fuckin' time to work on it that the whole process has just been insanely smooth."

"Love that!" you say. "Productivity at its finest, right?"

Everyone nods eagerly.

"Well!" you sigh, placing both of your hands on your hips. "The meeting's officially over, now! Please text me your work progresses, guys. They're due before midnight. Thank you so much for coming!"

"Thank you for hosting it, babe!" Yoongi says, rushing over to help you off of the tree stump by offering his hand. You take it gladly, stepping back on the dirt ground.

You start waving at the students who begin to file out of the meeting place. When Jimin sees them start to move towards him and Taehyung, he grabs his friend's arm. "Shit, Tae, we've got to—"

"Hey, Jungkook?" you call. The boy turns around, looking at you expectantly. "Can you please tell your two friends that hiding behind a bush is quite ineffective?" You giggle when Jimin falls to the ground in shock. "Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung, was it?"

Jimin's in shell-shock, unable to move or dust off his pants. How the fuck did you—

"You can come out of hiding, you know," you reassure them with such a honey-like quality to your voice that it's almost impossible to resist. "We don't really bite," you giggle. "But... I mean, Yoongi might," you tease, earning a flirtatious shove from the boy.

At your invitation to quit hiding, Taehyung jumps out from behind the bush, dragging Jimin along with him. "Who the fuck are you and how do you know our names?!" Taehyung roars.

Guess he already gave up his no-cussing streak, Jimin sighs. But he's also glad that he's not the one who has to stand up for both of them.

"Don't be so rude, you ass," Jungkook scoffs. "Motherfucking stalkers. I told you not to follow me."

Stalkers?? We were just looking out for you! Jimin thinks. "We're sorry, Kook," he manages to say. "But you lied to us! And more importantly, you obviously haven't been telling us things."

Jimin's frankly hurt by his friend's lack of honesty, but it seems so that Taehyung is more vocal about it.

"Yeah, Jeon Jungkook, what the fuck?" Taehyung yells. "You're a cheater!" he accuses Jungkook, stepping closer and poking at his chest harshly with his pointer finger. "You're a fake! You're a bomb threatener!!"

"Wait a minute!" you cut in. "Let's not get into accusations like that so early. Jimin, Taehyung, I—"

"How do you know our fucking names?!" Taehyung screams. "We don't even know who you are, you cheater!!"

"Watch it," Yoongi says dangerously. He tries to take a step forward, but you stop him, placing a hand on his arm.

"I'm Y/N," you say. "We're all students of Welton, so there's no reason for the animosity. Besides, I memorized the yearbook." You shrug, but you gesture apologetically to Jimin and Taehyung. "I'm very sorry, but I didn't invite you two to join our little group for a major reason. Of course..." you trail off. "Now you have to join... For safety reasons."

"Little group?" Taehyung snorts. "Where did the specificity go?"

"Hmm," you hum. "What do you think about a school revolt?"

Jimin does not like the idea of a school revolt at all. It sounds stupid. Students would never be able to pull it off. Even Taehyung, who's usually more open-minded than Jimin, seems skeptical.

You ask Jimin and Taehyung to meet up in Panera, later that day with Jungkook, to discuss the specifics. By the time Jimin and Taehyung get there, you and Jungkook have already saved a corner spot in the cafe.

Jungkook's eating pieces of sourdough bread while you sip your frozen lemonade. It looks to Jimin and you and Jungkook are getting along as both of you gesture wildly as you speak. You even let out a large laugh after Jungkook says something funny.

Jimin feels weird interrupting the already happy conversation, but Taehyung seems to have no problem. Taehyung slides into the seat next to Jungkook, leaving Jimin to sit with you.  Jimin suddenly feels very self-conscious about himself.

"Glad you two could make it!" you chirp, setting down your frozen lemonade. "Want anything to eat or drink? They have hibiscus lemonade here and it's literally amazing!"

"I'd rather you cut to the chase," Taehyung says, frowning as he folds his arms.

Jimin agrees with a short nod.

"Oh," you say, "sure!"

"You said something about a school revolt," Taehyung says. "Explain."

"God, would it kill you to say please?" Jungkook rolls his eyes. "She's doing you guys a fucking favor. Man, if Yoongi was here, he'd whoop your asses."

"It's fine, Jungkook," you say. "I get how confusing this can be... Our little group has one goal," you start. "I want to help struggling students. You know what Welton is... Ruthless competition. Kids cramming without actually understanding the material. Rote memorization... Wasting time by doing four pages worth of math homework every night... Way too specific reading quizzes that have nothing to do with the storyline of the novels..."

The more you talk, the more Jimin begins to relate.

"It's horrible," you sigh. "That they're making us become a servant to the school. They use the students to boost the credibility of the teachers. They thrive off of our hard work, you know."

"They're bitches," Jungkook snorts. "Never really care for us. Remember Chaewoon? He told his counselor about his suicidal thoughts and she didn't do shit. He might still be alive with us if the counselor cared."

You nod. "Yes, our mental support system at this school amongst the grown-ups is preposterous," you say. "There are too many problems with Welton. And I reach out to deserving students to offer them a solution."

"A solution?" Jimin mutters.

You turn to him, nodding politely. "Yes! A solution. Students have dreams, Jimin. Taehyung, don't you ever wish you could be putting in your time somewhere else instead of studying for a subject you don't care about?"

Taehyung nods. "Who doesn't wish that around here?"

"Exactly," you say. "I'm offering you, Tae, and Jimin a great chance to follow your dreams. High school is when you feel the spark growing inside you. The spark is an extracurricular or a hobby of some sort that you've always loved with your whole heart. You probably had to sacrifice a lot to join Welton's elite debate team, right Taehyung?"

"Never even liked debate that much," he answers. "I had to quit theater for that shit."

"And you couldn't do both because...?" you say.

"Because the debate coach told me theater would interfere with the debate practice schedules," Taehyung says. "And he said that debate is much more intellectual than theater. He said that I won't be able to balance my studies with both debate and theater."

"Exactly," you say. "It's utter bs, don't you think? Why do we have to sacrifice our hobbies, our passionate dreams to do what some adult tells us to do? You do realize that they put down the arts because they want their smartest students participating in their intellectual or STEM-related activities? The more intelligent students that are in these activities, the higher the school rating skyrockets. It's purely selfish reasons."

"That is utter bullshit," Taehyung scoffs. "You're right. That is pretty fucking selfish."

"Right," you say. "I want to teach you, Tae," you say, looking the boy dead in his eyes. "I'll take care of your grades. I'll teach you the best ways to get away with outsmarting the teacher. I'll plan class distractions—like today—and if things still don't go well, my boyfriend—you met Yoongi today, right?—can make a last-ditch effort to hack into the grades system and work his magic. You'll have extra time to do theater—at school and at other professional intern sites. How does that sound?"

"Fuck," Taehyung curses. "That sounds fucking great when you put it that way."

Jimin's not so sure. "What if someone snitches?"

You laugh. "Oh, they wouldn't," you say. "I have eyes and ears everywhere."

"She does," Jungkook says. "There's no one she doesn't know. C'mon she's the first sophomore Editor-in-Chief of the school newspaper. You'll be safe if you join."

"You're juniors as well," you say. "There's a lot of pressure to do perfectly in school now. And you'll be in college before you know it. I reckon that you want to know your ride-or-die interest before you attend university."

Jimin looks down at his hands. This is wrong, he tells himself. But it'll do so much good. Not moral good, of course. But still.

Taehyung already seems sold on the idea, a fast grin spreading across his face as he nods his head enthusiastically.

You notice Jimin's skeptical look. "Hey, I'm gonna run to the bathroom," you say. Jimin gets out of the seat to let you through, and as soon as you're out of sight, he collapses on the seat and groans.

"Great, she's fucking gone," Jimin says. "Tae, you can't possibly think this is a good idea."

"What do you mean? It's a fucking fantastic idea!" Taehyung says. "Dude, don't you understand? I'll get to do what I love without sacrificing my grades! Once in a lifetime opportunity, bro."

Jungkook snorts. "Yeah, well, I have my music and you have your acting shit, Taehyung, but Jimin doesn't know anything other than the pages of a stupid fucking textbook."

It hurts because it's brutally true. Jimin bites his lip and shakes his head.

"Fifteen people is awfully small for a cult," Jimin grumbles.

"It is not a cult," Jungkook argues, crossing his arms over his chest. "And no one knows how many students are actually involved except for Y/N. She figured it'll be safer that way."

"Bro, I'm in," Taehyung says. "I was in like seven minutes ago."

"Good choice, man," Jungkook says, slapping Taehyung's back approvingly. "And honestly? Jimin? You don't exactly have a choice. You have to join."

Jimin scoffs. "Why?"

"Because you know this group exists and it's likely you'd snitch on us if you don't get anything out of it," Jungkook says, raising an eyebrow at his friend. "Y/N's being really generous with you right now. You're basically going to freeload."

"Freeload?" Jimin says, glaring at the man with intense ferocity. "I didn't ask for any of this!"

"Hey, it's okay!" Taehyung says. "You can just find some hobby or something. So you're still following protocol."

"Um, easier said than done," Jimin mutters.

It's silent after that as Jimin sulks in his seat and Jungkook and Taehyung awkwardly watch him do so. You come back from the "bathroom" (you were gone for much longer, so Jimin suspects you were just giving them time to discuss) only to see the three boys sitting in complete silence.

You cock your head. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Taehyung says. "It's final. Jimin and I are joining!"

"Great!" you say, smiling as you clasp your hands together. "Oh, you'll have to get started on your theater process right away," you tell Taehyung. "And Jimin, it's fine that you don't know what you like now. You can hang tight until you find something, all right?"

Jimin lets out a grumbling, "Yeah, sure."

"It's set, then!" you say, sipping your not-so-frozen lemonade drink. "Thank you, Jungkook. I owe you."

"No, it's fine, really," Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. "Just doing my job."

You smile at him fondly before turning to Jimin and Taehyung. "I'll text you the details pertaining to each of you, okay?" You glance down at your watch and gasp. "Oh, shoot, I'm late for my date! Um, I'll see you three at our next meeting? Or at school. Bye, guys!!" With that, you grab your drink and practically fly out of Panera, never looking back once.

Jimin and Taehyung are a bit dumbfounded.

"I gotta go work on producing my album," Jungkook says. "See you guys, too?"

"Yeah, duh," Taehyung grins as Jungkook slides out of the seat. "You basically saved our lives."

Jungkook snorts. "Sorry I didn't say anything about it earlier, by the way," he says. "We're not allowed to talk about it to anyone. Mostly because we don't really know who's involved."

"Nah, it's fine, man," Taehyung says, shaking his head. "At least we know now, right?"

Jimin stays quiet.

"Well, see you," Jungkook sighs as he glances at Jimin but doesn't say anything further. He leaves quickly.

"God, Jimin, he's your friend," Taehyung says as soon as Jungkook turns a corner and is no longer in view. "You shouldn't be that cold."

"Oh, really?" Jimin says. "He was living lavishly all this time and didn't bother saying anything!"

"He just said he didn't have a choice, Jimin!"

"God!" Jimin says, running his hand through his hair. "Now how are we any different from the motherfucking cheaters out there?"

Taehyung frowns. "I don't mind cheating. Y/N didn't even call it cheating. She called it 'outsmarting the teachers.' And besides, we have a reason for it too."

Jimin shrugs. "Yeah, whatever..."

"You'll come around," Taehyung smiles, shaking his head. "But what the heck do you think Jungkook meant by saying no one knows who's in the group??"

"No idea."

But it soon becomes quite obvious when Jungkook escorts Jimin and Taehyung to their first official meeting. Jimin and Taehyung gape as they realize no one they saw last time was here. You must hold several of the same meetings. All with different people.

Now it's for sure that nobody knows how many people are in the goddamn cult except for you. It dawns on Jimin that he's getting himself into something much, much larger than he had previously believed.

You've created quite an advanced system. So advanced that it took Jimin a while to get used to. It was a cheating plot so elaborate and well-planned that it almost didn't feel like cheating. Instead, it was like embarking on an evil heist in the adult world.

You had a master plan behind every single class in Welton. Jungkook said you harbored hundreds of paper documents (not digital, or they could be hacked) that had information about every teacher, every subject in the school. From there, you would investigate each subject and find the students who were genuinely interested in pursuing it in the future—the experts. Those students would then be in charge of making and organizing all of the class lecture notes; it would be their responsibility to fully learn the material and redistribute it to the other students who, more or less, didn't give two fucks about the class.

Homework was rotated amongst the "expert" students, and they'd send the other students the answers. (But, of course, there were always different versions of the homework so teachers would never suspect.)

Tests weren't a problem either. Somehow, you'd get a copy of every test or quiz before the exam date and distribute it to the experts. In a day's time, the rest of the students would obtain the answers (and work, if it was a math-based test). But to ensure that not everyone got the same exact score, you'd implemented quite a simple but complex system.

Test grades were higher for experts (especially experts who were able to make large progress on their personal projects). From there, the non-expert students were given scores solely based on how well they have updated their progress to you, and how much they have advanced in their extracurriculars.

The hardest questions on every exam were hand-picked by the experts themselves. And only the experts were allowed to answer the question correctly.

Essays were different. Not everyone read the given book, but the experts would always be ready for all kinds of topics—the holy grail was definitely the database of all past Welton essays that you handled yourself.

In that way, you had every single class in the whole school covered for the students in your group. (Which was ultimately a huge bummer for the students who had no idea of the behind-the-scenes 'outsmarting' that was going on.)

Jimin thinks the system is good. Could be better, but it works.

He's just pissed that he never has any progress to report back to you, so he always ends up scoring a high B on exams. It happens to be a pretty good deal, though, factoring in the fact that he didn't study for them. Scoring B+'s on exams was enough to keep his grades at an A.

But sometimes, it just feels wrong. Especially on his physics tests (where the class average is 60%, but he ends up with a raw score of 88% without having to put in the minimal effort). No matter how many times you call the action 'outsmarting the teachers,' Jimin thinks he's just plain cheating.

He's been wanting to report it for a while... Just because the little angel sitting by his shoulder is telling him that this is unfair to all the other students who were truly trying but weren't even getting close to the scores that Jimin was getting just by copying others' answers. Jimin remembers when he had been in that unfortunate position. When he'd watched students do suspiciously well on certain subjects while having time to do other activities, while he, himself, had to study for eight hours straight to get a C on the test.

But Jimin's not part of that unfortunate group of students. He's now pretty damn fortunate.

And he can't stay fortunate if he reports the cheating. Jimin's desperate. He's desperate to obtain decent grades without spilling countless tears and studying from early morning to the next morning after. It's the only reason that he hasn't reported your little group yet.

Besides, Taehyung is seemingly adapting better to this non-student-like lifestyle. He's already joined two theater productions and is applying to work as extras in films and such. And Jungkook's been continuing to work on his album too.

Jimin's friends seem to love being a part of the group.

Maybe Jimin's just salty because he hasn't found his passion yet. Though he doesn't know everyone in your little school cult, it seems like everyone involved in it has a passion, a dream they want to reach for, except for him.

A part of him wants to find a hobby just to say he has one when someone asks. But another, larger, part of him wants a hobby because of greed. Finding a passion and pursuing it meant Jimin would get a higher chance of getting better test grades for texting you about his progress. But Jimin can't just latch on to any existing hobby... He needs some advice.

Well, you'd told him that he should come to you if he needed advice... It's weird to think that he, a junior, has to ask advice from a sophomore. But maybe he's that desperate.

You're usually in your own little private newspaper office (as the Editor-in-Chief). So Jimin decides to give you a visit. But when he walks into the room after school, he sees you comforting a crying girl. Whether she's part of the cult is unclear, but Jimin immediately discerns her as one of those band girls—with frizzy hair, leggings and a boxy t-shirt. The girl's crying so hysterically that Jimin feels uncomfortable intruding. He leaves without another look.

Crying girls are not a good sign; he'll just come back tomorrow.

When tomorrow comes and Jimin walks into your private newspaper room, there is no crying girl to his relief. You're on your computer, probably reading or editing some student-written articles. Jimin feels awkward disrupting you being so focused on your work, but the longer time he spends just waiting for you to finish, the more time he wastes.

So: "Um, hi... Uh, Y/N?" Jimin says. He grabs a chair and pulls it up next to you.

"Oh! Jimin!" you greet him, turning from your computer to face the boy in front of you.

"I came yesterday," Jimin says, shrugging, "but you were busy with someone else... I came back today."

"Ah, you mean Chunseo," you say, nodding. "She was having a hard time yesterday."

Jimin's silent, waiting for you to elaborate, but you don't. It becomes quite clear to him that you don't like to talk about others behind their backs.

"So, what are you here for today?" you chirp. "Advice? Questions? I know everything must be new to you, so I just hope you feel comfortable with the whole system."

"Oh, uh..." Jimin would like to tell you that you're doing a great job and that everything's going fucking great, but that's unfortunately not what comes out of his mouth. "I still don't know what to pursue. I mean, I have so much extra time on my hands now, but I'm just spending it on my phone. My friends have been advancing in their passions, but I have nothing... I was just wondering if you could um, help me? Help me find a passion, maybe? I don't know."

"Hm," you say, looking thoughtfully at Jimin. "I can definitely help you with that..." you trail off, looking Jimin up and down and cocking your head. Jimin thinks you're analyzing him—not just his physical qualities but his personality as well. He feels almost vulnerable under your gaze.

"Have you ever had any hobbies, Jimin?" you ask him.

"That's the thing," he sighs. "No, I haven't."

He looks so miserable that you have to place a comforting hand on his arm. "Hey, it'll be fine, Jimin," you say. "I'm sure it'll come to you one day. A hobby isn't something you should necessarily force out of yourself. When you feel a connection with an activity—when you aren't exactly looking for one—then that meets you've found your hobby. And if you really love this hobby, then it can grow to be your passion. You just need to be patient. Don't worry," you smile, "you'll find something."

Jimin glances at your hand on his arm and then glances up at your face. God, you have a way with words. He feels much better, even though you didn't exactly offer him a cut-out solution.

"Thanks," he says. "I needed that."

"No problem, Jimin," you beam. "I know not having a personal project to work on leaves you with the lower grades, but you're probably only at the A- ranges, right? That's not too bad," you say. "Hm, how about this?"

Oh? It looks like you're going to offer him a plan. So Jimin scoots closer to you on his chair and listens intently for your next words.

"You're a junior, and before you know it, you'll have to write your college apps. Maybe instead of spending time on your phone, you can start with your college essays now? Is that all right to suggest?" you say, cautiously. "It never hurts to get a head start, you know."

You're right. Jimin should probably be productive, just like everyone else in the group. "Yeah," he says. "That's a good idea, actually."

"Great!" you say, clasping your hands together. "And I really appreciate you coming here to tell me the truth. You'd be surprised that a lot of others don't do the same as you."

"Oh..."

"Yeah," you giggle. "Hey, what about this? We'll compromise. I'll ask my boyfriend to change something for you as a thanks from me to you for being open and honest."

"Really??" Jimin says, his eyes growing wide and a small smile appearing on his face. "Thank you!"

You shake your head. "No problem, Jimin. Good luck on your college apps!" you call to him as he leaves the room.

"Thanks!"

Wow.

Jimin's heard a lot of great things about you from his friends, but now he realizes they really weren't kidding. You're a leader, all right. But a balanced one too.

Not only did you offer him emotional support with your words of affirmation but also you showed him a solution—at least a temporary solution to his problem. And you're also incredibly generous as well.

Hm. Now Jimin can't possibly think to report your little cult. Of course, it's still half wrong, what you're doing... But after talking to you, after receiving your feedback and help, there's no way Jimin would be able to double-cross you. As weird as it sounds, you kind of have a nice smile, and he doesn't want to cause you stress or grievances that you're actively trying to avoid with your group. In other words, he doesn't want to be the cause of your frowning.

Jimin's never seen you frown before, but he doesn't exactly want to see it in the future.

"Damn, I was such a bad procrastinator before joining the student group! The study group? The group? I don't even know what to call it," Taehyung laughs. He takes a large gulp of his boba drink and continues, "I feel like being a part of this community is improving my lifestyle. Like seriously, though. I haven't had a normal or healthy lifestyle since eighth grade!"

Jungkook nods vigorously. "Dude, I know! I've never been this productive before I met Y/N! Doesn't it feel so nice to be able to dedicate time to your strongest fucking passions?"

"Duh!" Taehyung says. "Man, what if this makes me peak in happiness in high school?"

Jungkook throws his head back to laugh, but Jimin doesn't find it so amusing.

Instead, he feels a bit left out. While his friends were diving deep into their passions, Jimin had yet to find a hobby. "Why doesn't the group have a name, anyway?" he asks. "Seems kind of inconvenient."

Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows at Jimin teasingly. "Because..." he trails off spookily. "A name can always be traced back to the source. Haven't you thought of that?"

"Apparently Y/N did," Taehyung snorts. "Sometimes I wonder how she's so big-brained. God has favorites, I'm telling you."

"She's a fucking legend," Jungkook says. "I would worship her if I wasn't so stubborn about holding onto my dignity."

Jimin laughs, nearly choking on a tapioca pearl doing so. "Too bad she has a boyfriend, huh?" he jokes. "Jungkook sounds like he'd totally hit her up."

"I do not!"

"Sure, bro," Taehyung snickers. "When you talk to her, your pupils dilate."

"They fucking don't!" Jungkook says. "I have my interests elsewhere. Thank you very much!"

"Another girl?" Jimin gasps, placing a hand to his chest in shock. "Who?"

"Not a fucking girl, you bimbo," Jungkook says exasperatedly. "My music! I have interests in music. You guys fucking suck."

Jimin and Taehyung spiral into a fit of laughter. And the teasing and back-and-forth passive-aggressive remarks continued until the boba cups were empty and the three friends realized they talked up enough of a storm.

It used to be rare to meet up like this—because Jimin and Taehyung would always be overwhelmed in schoolwork—but now that their academic life was taken care of by you, they've been able to give themselves healthy breaks.

Jimin feels refreshed albeit a bit tired after parting with his two friends. He decides to walk home because his mother would kill him if she had to pick him up from the boba place when he should be studying at home.

The outside air feels nice against his cheeks, and Jimin finds himself becoming much more attentive to his surroundings. Back when he was a full-time serious Welton student, he couldn't ever spare to look at the intricacies of the vicinity—he always had to jump straight to the point, skipping the little moments to shove his face into his textbooks. It's a nice change.

Jimin notices a whole bunch of stores and studios on his walk home and he takes the time to admire each logo and memorize each name.

Damn. I never even knew some of these places existed...

There's even a dance studio called Hart's Dance Studio that Jimin swears he's never seen. The logo is an eye-catching red with a silhouette of a ballerina jumping over the 'Dance.' Jimin finds himself staring at it. Then, his eyes gravitate to the glass walls where he can see the dancers just... dancing.

And a lot of them are good. Like dancing is as easy as walking to them. But an unmoving figure amongst the active dancers catches Jimin's eyes. When he squints to get a better look, he realizes the stationary figure is you.

You're furiously typing on a laptop, occasionally looking up to watch the dancers once in a while.

What are you doing there? From your skinny jeans and lace top, it doesn't quite look like you're there to dance. Maybe you have a sibling in dance class?

But then again, Jimin remembers that Jungkook had once told him in a hushed whisper that you are definitely an only child... only after you lost your older sister to suicide, that is.

So really, what are you doing there?

Jimin cocks his head at you but realizes how weird it is to stand in front of the studio and stare. So finally, he just walks away.

But you're quite the mysterious figure. You're the exact type of person who makes others want to get to know you. You have an open quality where everyone feels welcome to talk to you, but you're also enigmatic, refusing to tell people a lot about yourself. Jimin sometimes even wonders if he's ever seen you at school with the same friend group. It looks like you're always jumping around.

Maybe you don't like to get to know people in a deep way. It's possible that you're a fan of shallow relationships, which there is nothing wrong with, of course. But then again, you have a boyfriend, whom you seem to really like. You're very hard to crack.

And even when winter break comes, Jimin's still been wondering what you've been doing at the dance studio, typing on your laptop. He's run all kinds of scenarios in his head. Maybe your mom works there? Or your friend dances there? But something inside him tells him whatever reasons he came up with are incorrect.

Meanwhile, Jimin's still waiting to find a hobby. He's already been to Taehyung's play and listened to the rough draft of Jungkook's album. But nothing seems to give him the inspiration that he needs.

Jimin just decides to go on a walk. The cold winter air nips at his skin, so he tightens his coat around himself, breathing steadily as he looks around at his surroundings. It's then when he finds himself stopped in front of Hart's Dance Studio.

He walks a bit closer to get a better look into the glass windows. And he smiles when he sees you. There is no one else around you, but you don't seem to mind. This time, however, you're not vigorously typing on your keyboard. You're... dancing.

Jimin doesn't know what prompted him to enter the dance studio, but the next thing he knows, he's inside.

You don't see him because your eyes are closed. Jimin takes the time to notice that you're wearing a simple black outfit consisting of a tank top and leggings. Your feet are left completely bare.

But the strangest part—you're not dancing with music. It explains your rather awkward movements. As if you can see yourself dance freely in your head, but you can't quite execute it in reality. Still, no matter how awkward you look, you radiate a majestic aura. So much so that from far away, you could look like a professional dancer.

Jimin doesn't realize he's staring until you startle him.

"Hey! Jimin!" you say. Your eyes are bright and wide open now and you wave at Jimin, motioning him over to you. "Hi!"

"Hi," Jimin agrees as he walks closer to you. "I didn't know you danced. Is that your passion?"

"Oh, god no," you giggle, shaking your head. "God forbid, no. It's for this book I'm writing!"

It finally makes sense. She's part of the school newspaper, and I'd seen her typing on her laptop.

"What kind of book?" Jimin asks curiously as he sits down on one of the metal benches in the dance room.

You take a sip of water from your water bottle before smiling. "It's this fictional book about a broken dancer. I'm an aspiring author! I've really been trying to get into my character and experience dancing so I can write her more realistically!"

"Oh, wow," Jimin laughs. "That's dedication."

"It's what I do to try to get good content," you say. "How's your winter break been going, by the way?"

"Pretty uneventful," Jimin says, leaning back on the bench. "I wrote and rewrote five drafts of my college essays. I don't think writing's my thing."

You laugh. "Well, we can rule that out in the list of possible hobbies you can partake in."

"Yeah," Jimin agrees. "I'm still trying to find—but not actively look for—a hobby."

"It's hard," you shrug. "You shouldn't stress too much about it, Jimin. I'm telling you, it's gonna come. I can see you be so dedicated. You just have to wait until the time's right."

"Sometimes I feel like my time will never come," Jimin admits. "Taehyung's already been writing, directing and filming his own short film these days and Jungkook's adding four more tracks to his album. I don't know whether I should feel inspired or pressured."

You shake your head. "You need to get out of your competitive mindset, Jimin," you say. "Realize that you should be doing things on your own time. Everyone has different paces, you know. Maybe you should take your mind off of everything you've been thinking of these days. Wanna dance with me?"

Your question catches Jimin off guard. "Sorry, what?"

"Would you like to dance with me?" you repeat, giggling. "Sorry, it was kinda abrupt but my character needs to experience partner dancing and so do I to write that scene. I've already asked Yoongi, but he won't budge! That boy hates dancing! So maybe you can dance with me?"

"Uh," Jimin awkwardly fidgets his fingers. "I've never exactly danced before."

You snort. "Well, honestly me too. I suck. But whatever, you know? We're going to try."

"What kind of dance?" Jimin says. "I think the only dance steps I've ever learned were the square dancing steps from fourth grade."

"We could try waltzing," you say. "It's pretty simple, I think. C'mon!"

You drag Jimin to the dance floor, guiding his right hand to lay on your back and taking his left hand in yours. Jimin feels awkwardly close to you, but when you laugh and joke about how preposterous the two of you must look, he feels a little more comfortable.

"This might end up with me stepping on your feet constantly," you say apologetically, "but I'm trying to capture the feeling of dancing with a partner. So essentially, it's the emotions that count, not the physical steps."

Jimin laughs. "I'll try not to step on your feet."

"No way," you say. "How are you better at this than I am right now? I thought you said you didn't know how to dance!"

"I don't!" Jimin protests.

But something feels right. Something kind of clicks. And the moment Jimin parts from you and rushes home, he watches dance videos online. He finds out that there are many genres, and the ones he finds the most moving are contemporary and lyrical. There has never been something that has enamored him more.

Jimin irrevocably and quite willingly falls into the rabbit hole of dance.

It's been two weeks since Jimin danced a simple waltz with you at Hart's Dance Studio, but the time seems to have flown by too quickly. The next time Jimin passes by the studio, you're still trying to dance. And when he walks in to greet you, he's met by music. You're dancing to music this time!

"Hi, Y/N," Jimin speaks over the music, breaking you from your reverie.

"Oh, gosh! Jimin! Hi!" you say, immediately turning to pause the song. "Long time no see! How's school?"

"Great," he answers. "Um, just thought I would visit the studio. Do you still need a dancing partner?"

You grin. "Well, kind of," you say. "I need to see an amateur dancer do a little improv routine. Do you mind? I tried doing it myself and recording it, but it's just not fun seeing myself be a fool on camera."

Jimin laughs. "I don't mind at all."

You gesture to the dance floor. "It's all yours."

"Thank you."

Jimin stares curiously at the dance floor, the bright lights flooding the whole room. He feels like he's on stage, but he likes that feeling. He closes his eyes and sees the hundreds of dance videos he binge-watched every day for hours. And then he dances.

Somewhere along the way, you turned the music back on, which makes it even easier for Jimin to dance. He moves instinctively, fluidly like he's water. And he stops only when he finds himself out of breath.

Your jaw is dropped open when Jimin opens his eyes.

"Jimin!" you exclaim, hands thrown in the air. "You're a natural! How did you do that? What the heck??"

Jimin shrugs bashfully, shrugging. He doesn't mention the hours and hours of stretching and practicing he had done before coming here. There would've been no way he would have agreed to improv dance for you if he hadn't felt so confident. And it's funny. Dancing is the only thing Jimin's found in his life that makes him feel self-confident so far. He would've never expected it.

"You should enroll in this studio!" you say. "With some training... You could do great things, Jimin, I mean it!"

Jimin's not too sure about that. Yes, he likes to dance, and maybe it was a hobby. But enrolling in the studio meant full-time commitment. He isn't so sure if he is ready for that. He isn't sure his parents are ready for that.

"Okay," Jimin says. "I'll um, think about it." But not really.

It's like you can see right through his lie, though. "Oh, okay," you say. "Then maybe you can practice dancing in this studio by yourself. I'm friends with the owner so she lets me swing by whenever I want. Wanna meet here every Friday? I could use a beginning dancer like you to really write a story about a dancer's progression."

Jimin's face lights up. Getting to dance one day a week in an actual dance studio?? "Yeah, sure!" Jimin says. "I'd really love to." Now I have an excuse to go to the studio and dance.

This could be the start of something great.

The start of something great it was. Fridays quickly become Jimin's favorite day of the week. After school, he rushes to the studio to meet you and work on learning the basics of dance by watching tutorial videos on the internet. Usually, he works in silence—except for the clicking sounds of your laptop, but today, when he strides onto the dance floor, you're waiting for him in the middle.

"Do you have music requests?" you ask him, scrolling through your phone as if you are deep in thought. "I always feel like it's easier to express yourself with the music you actually like."

"Music?" Jimin frowns. "I, um, don't listen to music that much."

Your jaw drops. "What??"

"I don't even have earphones," he laughs awkwardly.

"You don't have what??"

And that was all it took for you to teach Jimin music for the whole day. You went through the hundreds of songs in your playlists, putting Jimin on the dance floor and making him dance to the songs he likes best. By the end of the session, Jimin still feels like he's soaring. His heart in his chest beats to the rhythm of the music. When he steps out of the dance studio and parts ways with you, he can't help but wish it were next Friday.

But at least he has a whole week to go music hunting. Jimin's never been much of a music man, but he's found that certain songs make him want to dance. He'll search them out and practice with them in the following days.

At school, Jimin feels like a mindless machine. He's still on the fence about cheating the system that's supposed to help him; the ethical part of Jimin wants him to stop—of course it's nothing against you. Jimin just thinks that if the system to help the students exists, every student should be involved. Even he was invited into the group much later (and technically, at first, he was forced to join for catching a meeting in progress).

Yet at the same time, Jimin owes it to you and your group that he's able to do what makes him happy. And he can't bear the thought of betraying you.

At home, Jimin lies on his bed, listening to all of the songs you showed him on repeat. His family doesn't have any music streaming services so he secretly started a three month free trial on iTunes. But he knew his parents wouldn't approve of his music taste (they usually don't approve of anything too teenager-y, so Jimin borrows his father's pair of earbuds.

Jimin didn't know, but earbuds bring a whole new dimension to music. He lies face up, closing his eyes as he pictures himself jumping, dancing, moving to the sweet rhythms of the songs. It's like he's been introduced to a whole new world.

Friday rolls around way too slowly for Jimin's taste, but when he's finally there, talking to you and dancing upon your request, it feels like he's on cloud nine. Today, you ask Jimin to describe what it feels to dance.

Jimin's not exactly very good with his words but he tries his best.

"I don't know," he says at first, blushing as he looks down at the brightly lit dance floor. "It makes me feel like... how do I say it? Like I'm just in a vast room with no one but myself? The moment I hear a good song, I just get this heavy gut feeling to move, I guess. And then I see the colors and the movements... And I dance."

"A vast room?" you say in awe as you unceasingly type across the expanse of your keyboard. "Elaborate, please."

"I guess it feels like I'm on my own stage. And it's a good thing because it feels like no one's watching me," Jimin says. "Uh, kinda like I'm dancing for myself. I'm dancing to express how I feel. And if there's someone watching, I don't really feel it because I'm so uh... I'm so..."

"Enraptured by your own world?" you finish for him.

"Exactly!"

You smile. "Thank you, Jimin! You meeting me here every Friday is so helpful. I really don't know how to thank you properly."

"Oh," Jimin shakes his head. "You've helped me so much already. There's nothing you could possibly do to help me better."

After exchanging a few more words with Jimin, you deem that you have to go home early to celebrate your mother's birthday. Jimin bids you farewell, but he remains in the studio. It feels empty without you, but it doesn't really matter. He's always by himself when he dances, anyway.

Jimin turns on his music, which echoes across the dance room, ringing against the walls and thumping in his chest. He can't stop himself from moving. His body twists graciously and he leaps across the dance floor as the synths in the song sing their melodious tones. He's so into the dance that he doesn't notice a tall woman watching him in the background.

Jimin finishes off his improv dance by striking a majestic pose he had come up with himself a few days ago. He didn't expect anyone to clap when he had finished, but there was this sharp-looking woman who was applauding and smiling at him approvingly.

"O-Oh," Jimin stutters. "I'm so sorry. Uh, Y/N left a bit earlier so I just thought it was okay to stay..."

"You're Jimin!" the lady says. "I'm Miss Hart. I run this dance studio. Y/N's told me how talented you are."

Jimin blushes. "I don't know about talented."

Miss Hart shakes her head, walking closer to Jimin in graceful strides akin to that of a ballerina. "I want to offer you a spot in my dance studio. This is a personal offer."

"I-I, uh," Jimin stutters. He's caught off guard by this sudden invitation and he looks left to right in a very panicked manner. "I-I don't think my parents will allow it... Um, sorry... I have to, um, go..."

He flees before Miss Hart can get another word out of him.

It's the sad truth. Jimin's parents would likely never approve of his current hobby—even listening to music while he studied was a stretch for them. But the more Jimin thinks about Miss Hart's offer, the more he realizes how great of an opportunity that is for him to progress in the path to find his true passion.

As nerve-wracking as is it, during dinner, Jimin asks his parents if it would be okay if he started taking dance lessons. Their reactions aren't as severe as he had expected, but his parents still seem pretty surprised.

"Isn't it too late to start something new?" his mother says. "You're a junior now, Jimin. You should already know what you're good at."

"I agree with your mother," his father says. "Why the sudden interest?"

"I don't know," Jimin answers truthfully. "It just happened. I really, really like it though..."

Jimin's father raises his eyebrows. "Really?" he sighs. "I don't think so, Jimin. Think about it. I know your grades are good right now, but now you should be busy with getting ready for college, shouldn't you?"

Jimin had expected this. "Oh..."

"And have you been taking my earbuds?" his father says.

"Oh, yeah... sorry," Jimin winces. "I'll give them back right now." He trudges up the stairs, feeling dejected and miserable at the same time. He decides to give the earbuds one last listen, plugging them into his phone and placing the buds in his ears. The familiar light-hearted, serene music floods into his head. Jimin can't help it. His eyes close, his mouth parts and he begins to move. His feet take him across his room, leaping over textbooks and dirty socks as his arms move fluidly to support his upper body.

Time has a mind of its own when Jimin enters the dancing world.

He doesn't notice an audience member at the entrance of his room. Jimin's father stares at his son, taken aback by the pure emotion and passion put into such a performance. He cannot hear Jimin's music, but he is able to feel it through Jimin's movements. Jimin's father watches the dance a bit longer, then leaves. When Jimin tries to return the earbuds to his father, he rejects them. "Keep the earbuds," he tells his son. "I don't need them anymore."

On Saturday morning, Jimin's surprised when his father calls him downstairs to talk. Truth be told, Jimin's a little nervous to have a serious one-on-one talk with his father. But his anxiousness melts away when his father asks:

"Have you been learning dance by yourself?"

Jimin perks up. "Uh, yeah! Um, well, kind of. I just saw YouTube videos... And I go to a dance studio every Friday with a friend to um, practice..."

"What studio?"

Jimin freezes. "H-Hart's dance studio?"

Jimin's father nods. "All right. Here's the deal. The moment your grades slip, you're going to have to quit, okay? Let's go enroll you right now."

Jimin almost faints from the sheer amount of happiness.

It is official. Jimin is to have private dance lessons (to make up for being such a late starter) once a week. This was a bit like a trial run; Jimin might get more lessons per week if he really decided to pursue dance.

And now that Jimin's actually a student at the studio, he can come in to practice anytime he wants! Which was every day after school for three hours.

When Jimin tells you the good news on Friday, you insist that you ditch today's dance-writing sessions and get some celebratory boba.

It's the first time Jimin's with you, alone, outside of school, without being in the confines of the dance studio. If he didn't know any better, this felt like more than two friends meeting up on a Friday afternoon. It felt like a date.

You're rather chatty with Jimin, making him feel comfortable and trying to get to know him better. But it comes to the point that Jimin wants to get to know you. So he finally asks the question he had been dying to know the answer to since he'd first met you in the dance studio.

"Do you mind if I ask what your book is about?"

"Oh, I don't mind at all!" you say, aggressively sipping your boba as you think. "Hm, okay, well, I kind of changed the plot halfway through... So now instead of a broken dancer, the story's about this newborn dancer who realizes her talents rather late in her life, but she throws all of her doubts—and others' doubts—away because she realizes if she's passionate about something, it doesn't really matter how long she's been pursuing it. What matters is that she is pursuing it in the present."

"Wow," Jimin breathes.

"Yeah," you giggle, tucking back a strand of your hair behind your ear. "It's a coming of age story. I want it to be heartbreaking, bittersweet and heart-wrenching." You sip your boba. "But I might have to rewrite a lot of scenes because I'm thinking about changing the gender of the main character from female to male. I think it feels more right."

"Oh, that's gonna be a lot of work," Jimin says.

"But it's going to be worth it."

Jimin nods. Of course it will be. You put your best effort into everything. "Do you know what your title is going to be yet?"

"Eh," you laugh, shrugging goofily. "I'll think of it one day."

The light-hearted conversation takes a twist as the outside of the boba place gets darker and the afternoon morphs into the night. Jimin finds himself talking about his personal struggles as an "average" Welton student. He reflects vocally upon the times in which he had to beg to receive an A in his classes. The times in which he despised himself and didn't understand the exact point of life. The times when he was existing and not living.

It's then when you reveal your own darkest moments. And what lies beneath the smiling curtains was a murky past.

Your freshman year at Welton hit you like a bomb—it was the same year that Jimin had been suffering in the depths of sophomore year's turmoil. You became miserable, competing for first place in your classes in subject matters that you had no interest in. The tests contained little material about understanding and more about the nitty-gritty details (that were barely significant). You used to write your stories the moment you came home from school until you had to go to bed. But now, you would be lucky if you could even get a few paragraphs down before being pressured into studying something tediously and frankly, useless. It drove you nuts.

To the point that you were tempted to be pulled under into the dark world of self-hatred and suicidal thoughts. Your older sister had jumped off a building when you were only eight; you watched her stuck in a coma in the hospital with twelve broken bones until she died in her sleep. So you figured if your sister did it, so could you.

But slowly, gradually, rationality took charge of your head, driving out the demons. You garnered your anger and self-hatred towards Welton and not yourself. And during the last few weeks of school in your freshman year, you decided that you were going to make a system to help every student in need—for those with big dreams but little time.

Jimin watches and listens in awe as you continue to tell your story.

"I met Yoongi in freshman year when I was interviewing him for winning first place in a tech comp so I could write about him in the school newspaper," you explain. "He was the first person I told my idea to. And then from the summer between freshman and sophomore year, I planned the whole system. Yoongi assisted me a bit, too, but I didn't want him to be burdened."

Or, Jimin thinks, you don't trust other people.

"Yeah, and then we really kicked off," you say.

"Wait, you and Yoongi? Or the whole system you created?"

"Both," you grin. "Yoongi and I started dating during the summer. And as you can tell, our whole group flourished too. Now you're here!"

"The group's relatively new then," Jimin says. "So um, I don't know if I can ask but, how many people are really involved?"

You smile, shaking your head and denying Jimin an answer. "The trick that I use to run this system is to never trust anyone."

"Oh... wow. Not even your boyfriend?"

"Oh, it's the people you're closest to that end up failing you. Just ask my sister," you shrug. "And you never know. You aren't still thinking of reporting me, are you? I know you were contemplating that for a while..."

"O-Oh!" Jimin stutters. "Oh, shit. No, uh, definitely no. Not anymore. God, I didn't know you knew. I'm sorry."

"It's really no matter," you tell him, giving him a reassuring smile. "I think it was really nice talking to you. When we usually meet up, you're dancing and I'm taking notes or writing so this is a really nice change."

"Yeah," Jimin agrees. "I had a lot of fun, getting to know you." He glances at his watch for a split second and his eyes turn huge. "Shit, Y/N, it's almost 10 p.m.!"

That's when Jimin's able to notice that there is no one else in the boba place except you and him. The store must be closing soon. And the outside is nearly pitch black.

"Oh, wow, we've been talking for a long time," you laugh. "I guess that means we'll have to leave, huh?"

Jimin wants to be in your company for longer, but he nods, agreeing with you. "Yeah, I guess," he says. "I'll see you on Monday?"

You nod, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Goodnight, then, Jimin."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

Jimin's now been getting dance lessons three times a week now, and according to Miss Hart, he's improving at an alarming rate. Miss Hart proudly tells Jimin and his parents that he would be able to compete in local dance comps in three months and easily place.

"The boy's born to dance," Jimin overhears his teacher tell his father. He repeats those words over and over again to himself until he falls asleep that night.

His parents took his success in dance a whole different way. Immediately, Jimin was to train his muscles and stretch every day to accommodate three days' worth of hardcore lessons. And he was also ordered to join the school dance team—even though Jimin tried to tell his parents that tryouts had already been held ages ago.

But when Jimin expresses his problems to you, you bring a solution the very next day. Apparently, you had some inside sources in the dance team; you just had to pull a few strings, and the next thing he knew, Jimin was in Welton's elite dance team.

For the first time in the cult, no, group meetings, Jimin has something to show. He's able to track his progress by videos and live performances that you watch on Fridays. With all the advancement in his newfound passion, you reward Jimin with the second-highest scores on every exam (because the highest scores were reserved for the "experts").

Jimin's now sitting at the peak of a figurative mountain. His grades are soaring. His passion is soaring. He feels like his whole life has become a never-ending, high-velocity dance.

And he loves it.

There are no more meetings left after this one, you explain to all of the students. It's the last meeting for it's the week before finals. The school year will end soon, which is a huge relief to every Welton student.

You claim that outsmarting the teachers with the finals would be easy, especially with your advanced system, so there was really no need to worry. The meeting is short, concise and sweet. You douse everyone with your love and passion and thoroughly thank each and every individual for allowing another wonderful school year.

The meeting ends on a great note. You tell everyone that you have great plans for next year. Something that'll top the bomb threat. Something that'll effectively help the students and put the teachers and administrative staff to shame.

Everybody is excited.

The first time Jimin meets you during the summer is in the dance studio. He'd dressed in his workout clothes but still had enough self-dignity to spritz some cologne and put on some deodorant before seeing you.

But when he walks into the studio, he finds that you're not alone—you're with your boyfriend. Laughing. Joking. Touching. Yoongi has his arm around you and you have a casual hand placed on his thigh, leaning into him as you talk animatedly to your boyfriend.

Yikes. Jimin thinks it's going to be awkward before he actually feels awkward.

You and Yoongi really seem to like the time you're spending together and Jimin doesn't exactly want to interrupt. And there's something about the way that Yoongi tugs you closer and looks at you with sparkling mirth in his eyes that sets Jimin off.

He quickly recognizes the feeling as jealousy. It confuses Jimin even more.

Oh, fuck it.

"Hi, Y/N!" he says, waving at you. "Hey, Yoongi."

You stand up immediately rushing to greet Jimin as Yoongi stays in his spot, nodding his salutations to Jimin. "Yoongi just wanted to know what I was doing every Friday after I said no to a fifth Friday night date," you giggle. "Is it okay if he joins us today?"

"Of course," Jimin says. "I don't mind."

I kind of do.

Meeting at the dance studio was an activity exclusive to you and Jimin only... It's weird to see Yoongi butt in.

"Okay, great. Thanks!" you say. "Just do your thing, and I'll be taking notes as usual!"

Jimin nods, bracing himself to dance after he turns on the song he'd been listening endlessly these days. But today, he feels stiff. Rigid. Something's not quite right.

Today, he doesn't feel like he's on a stage alone. He feels someone watching him from the audience with scrutiny. Suddenly, Jimin can't move. He feels trapped in his own world. When he turns to look at you, he finds that you and Yoongi are immersed in a deep conversation. You're usually watching his every move.

Jimin tries to focus again, closing his eyes to immerse himself into the music. But he can't do it. Not when you and Yoongi are talking like that. Shit. Why is that so distracting?

Jimin figures one day of giving up practice wouldn't kill him. He turns off the music and walks over to you and Yoongi and plops down on the bench.

You smile but Jimin watches as Yoongi flinches just slightly, and a disgruntled look flashes across his face just briefly. Jimin ignores him.

"Yoongi and I were just talking about legacy," you explain to Jimin. "You know, what we'll leave at Welton High School."

"Oh, wow. You'll be leaving a whole elaborate system," Jimin says. "But what's going to happen to it when you've graduated?"

You shrug. "We'll have to wait and see," you say teasingly.

"I'll already be gone by that time," Jimin huffs.

"We'll keep in contact," you say. "I promise."

It's a small promise but Jimin's heart skips a beat. He wonders if you'd still be dating Yoongi then.

Why am I like this? This definitely isn't the right time.

Maybe Yoongi senses Jimin's thoughts because he tugs you closer to him. "Come on, babe, do we have to stay here forever? I want to take you out on a date..."

"Aw, Yoongs," you coo. "I don't know... Maybe the three of us can go get boba or something?"

"Babe..." Yoongi whines softly, intertwining your hand with his.

Jimin watches the movement and another pang of jealousy hits his chest, this time larger than the last. He couldn't possibly have feelings for you. Jimin concludes that he's not jealous because Yoongi is your boyfriend, he is jealous because he's stealing you away when he and you should be hanging out.

But he doesn't exactly want to get in the way of Yoongi, who already seems to dislike Jimin for hanging around his girlfriend.

So Jimin shrugs. "I don't want to intrude on a date. It's fine, Y/N, enjoy your date night."

Yoongi shoots Jimin a grateful look and even lets out a beaming smile. "Really, Jimin? Thanks!" you say.

Jimin has to admit, seeing you skip away with Yoongi arm in arm makes him happier. Fuck, no. He's starting to mirror your emotions.

This isn't a very good sign.

Jimin's right. It isn't a very good sign. He's starting to feel weird around you—emotions that he can't quite explain or justify with words.

The more he hangs out with you, the more he notices little things about you—your little habits, your speech patterns, your dimples when you smile...

It comes to the point, you confess to him one day, "You know, Jimin, I've been hanging out with you more than my boyfriend."

Jimin feels honored by that, "Well, I've been hanging out with you more than my own to friends."

And it's true. Taehyung's been busy with his theater things and has picked up a girl along the way—the girl who was notorious for spilling tears arbitrarily. Jungkook's got his eye on some shy girl Jimin doesn't really know. So the friend group's already pretty split up. But Jimin doesn't really mind as much as he should. He and his friends are happy and have split to pursue their interests. There are no regrets.

Sometimes, when Jimin notices the blush on your cheeks after he teases you, he wonders how you truly feel about him. If all the time you spent around him was doing any good.

"I guess we've become quite the team?" you smile, nudging Jimin's shoulder. "I would've never been able to come up with a revamped idea for my book without you."

"I don't think I would've come this far in dance without you."

"No, it's your pure talent," you say. "I didn't do anything." You giggle, admiring the ruffles on Jimin's dance costume. "Break a leg out there, Jimin. I know you'll kill it in the solo division."

"Thanks, Y/N. I swear, I'm not even that nervous."

That's a lie. Jimin's so nervous he's been feeling like he needed to use the bathroom for two hours now. What if I forget a step? What if I'm offbeat for a split second? What if I trip on my costume? What if the wrong song plays?

There's absolutely no pressure that you've offered to come to watch Jimin dance to write about a dance competition in your book. Jimin has to get his routine down perfectly unless he wants to wind up embarrassing himself and disappointing his eager parents. He needs to be perfect. Maybe to impress you.

But this will be the first time that Jimin will be on stage with a true audience. Even though he will dance like he's the only one in the world, he will have hundreds of watchers and a panel of judges who will scrutinize his every move.

Jimin tugs at the ruffles of his white blouse and looks to the stage nervously.

"Hey, you've got this," you whisper to him, patting his shoulder. "What matters is dancing. It doesn't matter what place you get."

You're right. Jimin's here to dance. He is not here to flaunt his talents to others; he is here to make his own progress for himself, for his passion. What matters is that he has fun on stage.

Jimin keeps that in mind when he walks on the platform. The lights shine down on him, and his ears ring incessantly. But as soon as the cello begins to let out its low, elegant sound, he dances. The music envelops his body, and he sees nothing but colors. There is no need to think of which step is next when it comes to him naturally. He twists and turns accordingly to the rueful tones of the oboe, leaps at the entrance of the violins and finishes the dance with a grand pose in the middle of the stage.

He doesn't hear the clapping when he shakily gets off the platform.

Jimin's numb. He can't remember the performance, nor can he remember if he had gotten all of his steps right. But when you lunge at him with open arms and a bouquet of flowers (that you hadn't had before) in your hands, none of his performance matters anymore.

"JIMIN!" you screech at him, almost knocking him over with the force of your hug. "YOU WERE AMAZING!"

He's so taken aback, he can't answer, just holding you to his chest as you laugh happily in his arms.

"I hope you don't mind that I recorded the performance," you tell him. "It was just... wow. I can't even think of words to describe it because... wow."

Jimin pulls away from you, grinning wildly and his heart thumping in his chest—from post-dancing or from hugging you, he doesn't really know.

"Was it that good?"

"Yes!" you say. "Come on, we just have to wait to see how you placed. Not that it matters."

And it really didn't. Even though Jimin took home silver, otherwise known as second place, everyone—his parents, Miss Hart, you—was proud of him. No one could argue that his dancing was the most emotional—the most beautiful. The dance competition was only the beginning of Jimin's journey.

Now it's even more normal for you and him to hang out. Even outside the dance studio to just talk and keep each other's company. Anyone can find you typing on your laptop and Jimin dancing and think it's a normal occurrence. Especially with the two of you on summer break, it became insanely frequent to spend a whole day out together.

Sometimes it seems as though you're flirting with him, but Jimin just tells himself that it's his imagination. You have Yoongi, for fuck's sake. You would never go after Jimin because you've said it yourself—you and he are best friends.

Yet it's socially unacceptable, apparently, to only be friends with the opposite gender (especially a younger opposite gender in Jimin's case) and expect the relationship to be purely platonic. Jimin's been noticing you stealing a couple of extra glances at him when he stretches before he dances. And he's been guilty of staring at you when you write because he likes how focused you can get in your typing sprees.

A couple of times, Jimin swears he could've leaned in to kiss you. But being rejected scares him away to ever take the chance. Besides, he doesn't want to come between you and Yoongi. That would be unfair and immature of him.

God, Jimin's mind is mixed up and his feelings are confused. He's not ready to admit it to himself yet, though. So he stays confused until a new school year comes around.

Being a senior opens up Jimin's eyes, and he realizes he had been just plain stupid—and blind. He likes you.

Fuck.

It's not a question of when these feelings had developed, but a question of why. You have a boyfriend. Jimin's already a senior, which means he'll be gone next year. You're the leader of a group—that's practically a cult, according to Google—and you keep secrets from everyone no matter how much you love them. It's just not going to happen.

And if it did happen, then what about Yoongi? He's an essential member of your group. If you break up with him to be with Jimin, assuming that you even feel the same way, then what might Yoongi do? Would he ditch your group and let it fall to the ground? Would he report you and your system to administration? Would he get revenge on Jimin?

No way is Jimin going to get involved.

He should've seen it coming. He should've prevented himself from completely falling for you the moment you started caring for him, hanging out with him, helping him... But he didn't and now he doesn't know what to do.

Well, actually, he does.

Jimin's just going to simply get rid of his feelings for you for his own sake and yours. He just won't see you for a couple of months, and by then, his feelings for you would be gone, vanished into thin air. At least, that's what he hopes.

So, Jimin creates an elaborate plan of his own to avoid you for several months, max. He secretly changes his dance lesson times and tells Miss Hart to keep his schedule from you. And when his teacher inquires why, Jimin makes up a bullshitted lie that he wants to surprise you with his next performance. Then, he skips all of his individual practices and dances at home instead so you won't be able to find him. He even misses scheduled group meetings, texting you that he was sick (when he was only lovesick).

She's just using me to write her story, Jimin tells himself. I'm nothing but a character for her.

Deep down inside, Jimin knows that's false, but he makes himself believe it. Maybe it'll help him dislike you—which isn't exactly possible—but it could at least help him stop liking you.

But it turns out that maybe you never liked Jimin the way he liked you. All too soon, Jimin finds out from Miss Hart that you haven't been coming to the dance studio, so he switches his lessons back to his normal time. You've stopped texting him about coming to group meetings too. Which was strange because Jimin was still given homework copies and test answers when he needed them.

Maybe you took the hint that Jimin didn't want anything to do with you? Jimin doesn't know.

He does know that still, every time he thinks of you, he thinks of a generous, beautiful, mature, thoughtful person who chases after her own dreams and encourages others to do the same. It's hard to stop liking you, in other words.

Already, finals week is around the corner. Jimin has a few suspicions that you're going to hatch a complex plan again to put an end to student stress altogether, but he wouldn't know because he hasn't been attending the meetings. But whatever you were planning, it would be better than the last bomb threat for sure. Because you were always looking to improve, to better yourself to help others.

God, fucking shit. Jimin can't seem to think of one bad thing about you.

His days are spent dancing mostly as he'd submitted his college apps early (thanks to your suggestion), but he also can't get you out of his mind. Your absence makes him grieve for your presence. But he can't give up now. He doesn't want to show up in front of you one day and have to explain why he avoided you for months.

So he continues with his plan.

It's the Friday before finals week.

Jimin sits around in the corner of his school's dance room as the rest of his teammates go over the routine for the winter dance competition. He'd told the captain that he was getting a bad migraine, so he was allowed to sit out for the rest of the practice.

In reality, Jimin can't stop thinking about you. He knows you're here, after school, in your newspaper room, finishing up your last edits before publishing the paper on Saturday. He wonders if you'll welcome him if he meets you. He wonders if he should apologize for avoiding you. Maybe he can get rid of his feelings by hanging out with you more. Or he'll just act like the two of you are best friends and pretend he doesn't want anything more than a platonic relationship.

Jimin doesn't know what courses through his veins to make him stand up.

"I'm going to the bathroom," he murmurs, trudging out of the dance room and outside. He'll have to cross the quad to reach the newspaper room. Jimin nervously checks his watch. 4:42 p.m., it reads. You usually leave by 4:45 p.m., so Jimin doesn't have much time.

Or maybe he shouldn't go to you at all? He hesitates, lurching forward but taking a step back.

He sees another girl, not that far away from him, walking across the quad. There's a boy behind her, yelling "Wait up!" as he tries to catch up with her while holding a stack of heavy textbooks. The girl looks back around and laughs, taking half of the boy's stack and nudging his shoulder. They continue to walk across the quad, side by side. They must be dating.

Jimin quickly recognizes the tall boy to be Namjoon, his acquaintance, and as soon as he's about to wave, there's a loud bang!

Jimin flinches. Was that a...? He can't quite believe it. But there's a lot he didn't believe but still has come true at Welton High School. Or maybe this was another one of your plans. Fake a school shooting to cancel finals. He wouldn't know. He didn't attend the meetings.

But the blood rushes out of his face and it dawns on him that this is reality as he watches Namjoon's girlfriend fall to the ground in slow motion. His own breath quickens and his eyes are alert but he's almost frozen. No. This has to be fake. This has to be a trick. There's another bang! and this time, Namjoon lurches forward, hitting the ground with a resonating thump.

Jimin's frantic, trying to find the source of the loud bangs. Maybe Namjoon and his girlfriend are part of the group. Maybe it's all a plan. Time flies too quickly and slowly at the same time. Jimin sees blood leaking from the girl as she lay face down on the cement. Namjoon is knocked unconscious. That has to be fake. You can buy fake blood, right?

But deep down inside, Jimin knows the truth. He panics. It's hard to breathe.

Then there's another bang. Jimin feels searing heat engulf his chest. He feels himself fall backward, and he clutches his wet chest—not in pain but in shock.

He tilts upwards, and his last view is of the soft gray clouds in the darkened sky.

Then everything becomes black.

Two students, two seniors are reported to be dead. One shot in the head, another in the heart. One has miraculously survived a gunshot wound and is being treated in the hospital.

"Do you know them?" you say in a shaky breath.

Your boyfriend hugs you. "You know one of them..."

"Oh, god," you whimper. You can hear the police and see the bright flashing red and blue lights from afar. "The shooter was targeting students involved in after school activities. How cowardly. When there would be fewer adults around. They were looking to attack the students."

"I know, babe," Yoongi says. "The girl... she was part of the volleyball team. Her boyfriend is the one who survived, apparently. And the other boy... He... He was on the dance team."

Your eyes turn wide as you pull away from your boyfriend. "H-He..."

"Jimin, Y/N. It was Jimin."

You feel like you're falling down a pitch-black abyss with no one to catch you or help you. "A-Are you sure it was him?" you manage to whisper. "What was he doing outside the dance room?" you sob, throwing yourself into Yoongi's chest as your boyfriend tries to comfort you.

"Park Jimin, yeah... It was him," Yoongi says, petting your back. "I heard from the dance captain that he was having a bad day. Something about migraines..."

You can't speak. Nor can you even think straight.

"Jimin's body was found significantly away from the other two," Yoongi says. "He could've run away."

A heavy weight tugs at your heart and you let out another sob of despair. "Yoongi, he could've thought it was fake."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you get it?? He thought it was like the bomb threat!—fake! Planned! God!" you shriek, pushing Yoongi away and standing up, starting to walk around in frantic circles. "I killed him, Yoongi! I fucking killed him!"

You collapse on the ground with your hands on your head. "I killed him..."

"You didn't kill him, Y/N," Yoongi says. He crouches down with you. "Hey, it wasn't your fault. He's the one who wasn't coming to your meetings. If he did, he would've known we weren't going to pull off a stunt like that until next year's finals."

You shake your head, hitting your forehead repeatedly with your palm. "It doesn't matter, Yoongi! I should've never faked such a serious ordeal!"

"Y/N..."

"I deserved to be out there in the quad."

"You're the students' hero, babe... Don't think otherwise."

"Oh? Really?" you scream. "If I really were a hero, then why the hell was the school shooter a student from our school, huh? I obviously wasn’t keeping everyone happy!"

Yoongi falls silent.

"I don't care what you say, Yoongi," you say, your voice shaking from anger and devastation. "I failed. I tried making a system, but it didn't work... And now, people are dead... And I never got to say goodbye..." And he was avoiding me for months. I never got to know why...

"Hey, hey. Your system is perfect, baby," Yoongi answers. "It just doesn't work on psycho murderers."

That makes sense, too.

"I'm sorry, Yoongi," you say. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess. Thank you. For comforting me. God, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay," he says. "Things will be fine." He pauses. "You know, on the bright side, they might cancel finals."

[2 years later]

The moment you graduated out of the hellhole of a school, you discontinued your idea of a school revolt, and your system collapsed without you nurturing it.

Welton High School went under investigation after hundreds of parents and students protested. Counselors were fired and replaced. Administration was put on probation. It didn't take until two students' murders to fix things.

Funny.

Three student suicides weren't enough for them to realize something was wrong with the school.

You're bitter, but you try not to let it get in your way. Jimin will never get full justice because he will never get the life he deserved back. He was supposed to win hundreds of dance competitions. He was supposed to get to the end of the path of his dreams. But his life cut him short.

You dedicate your debut novel to him.

Now, when you walk around a supermarket, a library, a bookstore, you see your book on the stands or stacked up on tables. The white cover contrasts from the title inked in a black font: To Jimin (It's About Time I Told You I Love You).

The book tells the tale of Jimin. A newborn dancer who becomes tangled in the depths of a rigorous high school. There's one twist, though.

The story is told from a girl's perspective. A girl who loves Jimin, but never admits her feelings until it's too late. She watches him grow, blossom and become a star. But she isn't there for him when he dies.

She is you.

And you think it's about time you admit to yourself that you loved Jimin. Except he probably never loved you.

—masterpost

—masterlist

[johnnymundano]

Sleepwalkers (1992)

Directed by Mick Garris

Screenplay by Stephen King

Music by Nicholas Pike

Country: United States

Running time: 91 minutes

CAST

Brian Krause as Charles Brady

Alice Krige as Mary Brady

Mädchen Amick as Tanya Robertson

Sparks the cat as Clovis

Lyman Ward as Donald Robertson

Cindy Pickett as Helen Robertson

Ron Perlman as Captain Soames

Jim Haynie as Sheriff Ira Stevens

Dan Martin as Deputy Andy Simpson

Lucy Boryer as Jeanette

Glenn Shadix as Mr. Fallows

Stephen King as Cemetery Caretaker

John Landis as Lab Technician

Joe Dante as Lab Assistant

Clive Barker as Forensic Tech

Tobe Hooper as Forensic Tech

Mark Hamill as Sheriff Jenkins

I have no beef with Stephen King, let’s get that out upfront. I’m not one of those “Yeah, but it’s not proper books is it?” chancers who churlishly resent his Medal for Distinguished Contribution (lifetime) to American Letters. Nope, not me. But Sleepwalkers is a real honker. It’s stoopid, hyuk-hyuk, pick your nose in church, comic book bullshit. And purposely so. Crap like this doesn’t happen by accident. And King is totally responsible for this. There’s no “Wah! Someone took my script and made a shitshow of it” excuse here. Sleepwalkers is often called (as it is onscreen) Stephen King’s Sleepwalkers; the guy’s all over this one. It’s even an original script (maybe, I hear, based on an unpublished story; I didn’t check but I’m pretty sure the only things remaining unpublished by Stephen King in 2019 are his notes to the milkman. And they are due out next year from Subterranean Press, in a limited edition that costs more than a week’s shopping for a small family.) The script is his and so is the director; King personally pushed for Mick Garris, and King got Mick Garris. Even the songs on the soundtrack are pure Stephen King too; old timey R’n’R like at the sock hop where Cindy Lou showed you her woo-woo, mixed with that special kind of shitty heavy rock liked by confused men who think having hair like a girl in a shampoo advert is a signifier of raw masculinity. Other than composing and playing the instrumental score on a home-made kazoo personally, could Sleepwalkers be any more Stephen King? No.

For some unhappy reason whenever he gets any substantial control over a movie King’s IQ plummets to room temperature and all his worst impulses leap to the fore like randy cats. (I submit to the jury Maximum Overdrive (Dir: Stephen King, 1986), m’lud; the prosecution rests.) I think (maybe) King, bless his cotton socks, is trying to recreate the cinema of his youth; stuff like The Blob (1958), Them! (1954), Invaders From Mars (1953) and I Married A Monster From Outer Space (1958). The pulp fun cinema of a dead age. Unfortunately for King, those people back then were trying to make the best movie they could; the pop culture magic which ensured their success and longevity  was purely unintentional and completely impervious to intelligent creation. King’s forays into movies seem to be trying to reverse engineer serendipity; a fools’ errand that results in foolish movies. Movies like Sleepwalkers.

The impulse to gravitate to camp seems ingrained in Cinematic King. Even when he just does one of his almost ubiquitous cameos, he often fails to resist the temptation to goof about like some brain damaged hayseed on a 1960s sit-com. If someone, Criterion maybe, went back and dubbed a pant-ripping fart over all Alfred Hitchcock’s onscreen cameos we’d be approaching the same ballpark of screen disruption as a Stephen King cameo. Of course he has a cameo in Sleepwalkers. A talking cameo at that as a “cemetery caretaker”, and King confounds expectations by playing it like some brain damaged hayseed on a 1960s sit-com. Even better, his unnecessary cameo bounces off unnecessary cameos by Tobe Hooper and Clive Barker; it’s like the business of the movie pauses for a couple of minutes purely so King can piss about with his mates. This is swiftly followed by cameos from John Landis and Joe Dante who, er, say some “lab” stuff I missed because Joe Dante’s hair is so…fascinating. I don’t mind cameos as long as they are unobtrusive but these might as well be announced by dancing girls and a marching band. At least all the characters aren’t called stuff like “Officer Hooper” or “Mayor Corman”; that shit gets old real quick.

As anyone who has ever cleaned out a litter box can tell you, another kind of shit that gets old quick is cat shit. There are a lot of cats in Sleepwalkers, the hero even turns out to be a cat, Clovis by name. In fact Sparks the cat, as Clovis, gives the third best performance in the movie, behind Mädchen Amick  and Alice Krige. Mädchen Amick is undeniably great here. She’s totally pleasant and nicer than nice without making you want to choke on your own fist. There’s an exuberant scene of her dancing to a song Stephen King obviously likes, in the lobby of a cinema, which is a very lovely scene and she continues to be a refreshing presence throughout the movie. Alice Krige is also good value, striking a nice balance between vile and vulnerable; she acts like her no doubt soon-to-be-fired agent told her she’s in a serious movie. Everyone else seems to have received a script with “Camp It The Fuck Up, Daddio! Love, Steve-o” scrawled across it, probably in crayon. Were that the case, then everyone performs superlatively. The usually fine actor and generally welcome screen presence Ron Perlman, particularly, thunders through every scene he’s in like subtlety is a crime.

Maybe in the world of Sleepwalkers subtlety is a crime. Because the world of Sleepwalkers is a funny world, one where werecat son and werecat mom Charles and Mary Brady (Brian Krause and Alice Krige) wander about feeding off the psychic energy of virgins, enthusiastically incesting and driving fast muscle cars. For some reason they also feel it necessary for Charles to attend school which, you might  think, would create a lot of complications for a nomadic couple who need to keep off the authorities’ radar. If you did think that, you would have put more thought into this set up than Stephen King. These werecat people can make themselves invisible; okay. They can also make their car invisible; um. And they can make their car change into another car; er, no; sometimes it will turn back into the old car if they don’t concentrate; so, wait, the car is real but also an illusion? But how can they drive an illusion? So it must be a real car, but…oh God, make it stop. And mom werecat has to stay at home while son werecat goes out and gets the virgin energy to feed to her. If the mom werecat can only be fed by her offspring, how did she survive long enough to have offspring? Or is it just that mom werecats are all agoraphobic? Also, the werecat people look like humans unless they are reflected in a mirror (but only when the script remembers) and they, uh, still leave mirrors up in their house so visitors can narrowly miss seeing their true nature. Oh, yeah, obviously, normal cats are the werecats’ natural enemy and in the world of Sleepwalkers police officers can have their cat in the car with them, which is lucky because the proximity of a normal cat also causes the werecat to reveal its true nature.  Unfortunately, once revealed, their true nature of a werecat is remarkably similar to someone with jaundice who has lost an enormous amount of weight very rapidly, all topped by a big bald cat head. In summary: ancient Egyptians liked cats, cats are magic but werecats are nasty and really bad and not very good at keeping their existence a secret, but they do their homework and drive cars Stephen King would doubtless describe as “bitchin’”.

I should probably say that Mick Garris’ direction is fine, and sometimes very good indeed and I did enjoy his use of ‘80s horror movie lighting techniques. But I really want to point out that Mick Garris has written some very good horror fiction himself; well worth seeking out. As is Sleepwalkers; but you need to know what you are getting: entertaining nonsense, a kind of retro-crap honestly proffered in the spirit of drive-in goofballery. Essentially though, you can never shake off the feeling that Sleepwalkers exists purely because Stephen King came up with the scene where someone is killed by a corn on the cob and then built a ramshackle movie around that. Unfortunately it’s not a very good movie. But it is entertaining. M-O-O-N, that spells entertaining. Laws, yes!

[tartaricing]

Doctarded: Act 5 - Cleaning It Up

Doc enters a long and somewhat funny road to redemption. It was definitely a large project all and all but I was glad I was able to step out of my comfort zone and create some content that I usually don't create. I hope all of you enjoy it and leave any comments!

Doc emerged from the office, swallowing thickly. He was no longer in his scrubs and lab coat, but in a pair of overalls and a sweater with the sleeves rolled up. With a heavy sigh, he went to the cafeteria.

Tachanka, Lion, and Blitz were already in the kitchen. Tachanka was hauling government beef while Lion and Blitz were cleaning stoves. Lion stopped to see Doc, who was already with a mop and bucket.

"And here is the man of the hour!" Lion sarcastically raised his arms for a hug, only to hug himself and walk away.

"Now you will taste the life of a common man!" Blitz sneered, kicking the bucket away from Doc.

"Very mature, Elias. Oliver," Doc turned to both of them, deadpan, "Let's get this done like adults, shall we?" Blitz and Lion burst out in laughter as Doc started to clean the floor.

However, cleaning the floor when everyone's pissed at you was no easy feat. Blitz and Lion proceeded to play soccer with the rolling bucket. Doc swiftly recaptured it, but it wasn't for long.

After many conflicts with the bucket and an eventual spillover, Doc was able to mop the whole kitchen. He wiped his brow and whistled low in a prayer for an easier task, but Tachanka presented him an entire bag of frozen hamburger beef patties.

"You make hamburger. I clean tables," Tachanka dropped it on his hands as he casually walked over to the cafeteria tables. He sat down on a table and called Finka. Doc grunted in frustration, taking the nutrition primer and reading the directions on making a hamburger. He put the bag down on the counter to let the patties thaw, then he heated up the grill and squirted on some liquid butter alternative. While waiting, he turned to Lion and Blitz and asked:

"Can you men please help me with the burgers?"

"Why?" Bandit raised his hands up in indifference, "You helped yourself to my boyfriend."

"Adultery is a sin, you know," Lion added, "I'll get the lettuce."

"Don't be so petty. We're having hamburgers tonight," Doc sighed, "I thought you liked hamburgers."

"We do," Blitz corrected him, "We just don't want to help."

"Bah, we've no choice to help our fellow brother here," Lion corrected the German, "Get the onions, mon ami." Blitz growled and took out the onions and madly chopped them.

"Where's Mute and Bandit anyway?" Doc asked, opening the bag of hamburgers.

"They're bathroom duty. Mute's done though so he'll be here," Blitz answered through tears. With Doc grilling the hamburgers, Lion and Blitz put together the vegetables. Mute came in heated the buns on Doc's grill, occasionally pushing a patty. Bandit came in next, setting up the stations. People started to file into the cafeteria, causing a long line to snake around the room. Tachanka came first though.

"You sat and talked to Finka while we did everything else. Why are you first?" Doc was flabbergasted at the large Russian's audacity to cut in line.

"Doesn't matter, give me burger," Tachanka spat his answer, "Double cheese, no vegetables!" Doc rolled his eyes as he assembled the burger and set it on the rack. The other man took it wordlessly. Dinner went on silently between the six until everyone was served. When truly done, Doc dispersed to his own table, eating a burger with all the vegetables.

"Doc!" Someone called out to him.

"What grievance do you have this time?" Doc muttered between bites.

The voice approached him, revealing the owner to be Montagne. Montagne was smiling this time, a rare sight since the trial.

"Gilles?" Doc swallowed a large bite of his burger.

"Holy shit, that burger was good!" Montagne squealed, "It had nothing but the basics, but mon dieu that tasted so good. I didn't know you could cook!"

"Well grilling beef patties according to a nutrition primer isn't all that hard…" His eyes shifted sideways.

"Well I'm glad you could make so many, because I had seconds! I was even considering a third," Montagne laughed.

"…I'm glad you enjoyed them. At least I didn't fuck it up. But seriously two are enough."

"Don't take my word for it, everyone else liked them too!"

Doc put away his trash to see Blitz glaring angrily at him. IQ just criticized his onions and praised Doc's patties. He chuckled nervously as he went back into the kitchen to clean the place up.

Bouncing between kitchen duty, bathroom duty, and his medical duties, Gustave was run ragged. He couldn't indulge in his most private desires nor could act like a complete degenerate to anyone or anything. The medic that was sent to watch him was a man with a doctorate in Psychology, which made it harder to shrug off any of his issues.

"Gustave, you can't, again reconcile with someone without sexualizing them," The medic sighed, "They will be uncomfortable."

"But I'm not, Mercutio!" Doc countered him, hopping into his overalls, "Rook isn't my boyfriend, but my best friend."

"When a best friend sexualizes another, it is creepy," Mercutio added, "Situation be damned!"

"Well I feel like shit now," Doc yelled over the curtains, "Be right back, I've been called to clean the bathroom."

"Enjoy! Manual labor is indeed a cleansing experience!"

"…You wouldn't say that after the stuff I've cleaned…"

Blitz shoved the bin of supplies wordlessly to Doc. He glared at him, sulking. "Just because you haven't fucked anything up doesn't mean you're free in my book. I took the women's wing. I don't want any rape in my team, you creepy fuck. It's going to take a lot more to convince me. Get the fuck out of my sight." He walked away with his own bin of supplies.

Doc frowned in shame but pushed the bin into the men's communal restroom and went to work. He was well-aware of how disgusting a human can be, but this experience redefined it. Clogged toilets, smeared feces, clogged sinks… He knew humans as a collective were absolutely disgusting now. He started with putting Lysol on the sink and squeegeeing the mirrors. He then wiped the stalls with a dilute bleach solution and cleaned the toilets. He did this stall by stall, realizing how nice manual labor was for him. It was purposeful, productive, and it kept his mind busy. Mercutio had a point.

What broke him out of his trance was a familiar voice in another stall. It was a panicked voice. "Is… anyone in there? Hello?"

"Gustave here, cleaning the bathrooms, like the piece of shit I am," Doc called out, lazily wiping the stall.

"Oh… Hi Gus," The voice slowed down, now warm with the mention of his name.

"…Julien?" Doc's wiping came to a stop, "What's going on?"

"…I broke it off with Blitz," Rook's voice started to break, "I love him, but with what I did with you…"

"No, I should apologize," Doc started, suppressing his emotion, "I was being selfish and creepy. I wasn't thinking rationally. I used you when I shouldn't have, Julien."

"But you didn't use me, Gus. I usually prevent these things."

"Don't be such an apologist, Julien!" Doc punched the stall, "I abused your trust and I'm incredibly sorry. I've fucked up so much and I don't want to lose you. You're one of my best friends and that's why I couldn't face you these past few days. Why didn't you even throw me off when I kissed you?"

"Because…" Rook's voice trailed off for a moment, digging into his conscience, "I don't want to lose you either. I felt not only your stress when you kissed me, but your latent feelings. Yes, I'm aware of the shit you've done, but at the same time, you're still my best friend too. Yet I think what I feel for you is beyond that… I won't deny you're a silver fox, though. I just felt uncomfortable being with Blitz after that. He's a great man with plenty of wisdom and fun but he deserves better."

"No, you deserve better."

"But I want you. That's why I was willing to let you use my body. That's why I don't consider myself used…"

"Julien-"

"Not in the traditional way of course. You do and go through so much for us, it's amazing. I can't comprehend what you've seen and done. You just don't… stop. You keep going and going and going, and that's what's killing you, Gustave. Blitz is like that too, willing to forgo sleep just to fix his shield. It's admirable. I put up with cheating with you because I thought it would make you stop. I thought if I the body you oh-so like on the line, it would make you understand the importance of resting."

"…I guess you were able to put yourself together the way Mercutio put me together. Well done."

"I'm a hypocrite. I should've gone to Mercutio for this shit," Rook scoffed at himself, "I just downplay it because you made me feel good, plain and simple."

"What the fuck are we even now, Julien?"

"We're still best friends, right?" Doc was now sitting on a closed toilet.

"Yes."

"What are you going to do with Blitz, me, and everyone else?"

"Well, I'll let Blitz find whoever but I'm still going to be a friend to everyone. It's like how you're still generous after dealing with our crap. Sorry to say, though, I'm in no fucking shape for a relationship after this shitshow."

"Me too. I guess we're two birds of a feather, huh?"

"Yeah," Rook chuckled, voice filled with mirth, "I've missed you, Gus."

"I missed you Julien."

The weeks have come and gone, with Doc on his last two days of house arrest. People have slowly warmed up to Doc again. Doc and Rook had started talking regularly again. Finka had let Doc know more about herself again. Smoke and Lesion had started to observe his orders more closely. The boy in the green hat sent him stationary and a bottle of Chianti. The SAS were even more respectful of him now.

Doc and Finka were in the laboratory working on Finka's nanomachines. They were recording dendrite lengths only to see her rapidly recording numbers.

"Slow down, Finka!" Doc gasped, "You usually don't write this fast, what's going on here?"

"I'm sorry Gustave, but I have to leave soon," Finka apologized as she recorded some more numbers.

"Why?"

"The UN consortium is in town and Tachanka and the others took it upon themselves to go," Finka spoke fast, "I told him not to, but he's still going to do it anyway."

"And what is wrong with that?" Doc was incredulous.

"The UN is planning to cut funding to the Spetznaz. Tachanka and the others set up a plan to appeal to them."

"What is wrong with Tachanka's plan?"

"They're planning to fake having Tourette's to appeal to them to not cut their funding!"

"That's dishonest!"

"That's why I told him not too, but he won't listen. Really, I have to go." Finka packed up her bag and ran out of the lab. A ball of disgust formed in the bottom of Doc's stomach. He followed Finka immediately after.

"What the hell are you doing?" Doc stopped in his tracks, seeing Six bracing herself in front of the door.

"I was going to help Lera, ma'am," Doc answered, saluting her.

"Unfortunately, you're still under house arrest. I cannot let you go outside. If you have to help her, you must do so from here."

"Six, ma'am, I want to speak with you about something. I want you to make an exception"

"Do tell…"

They went to Six's office, with Doc presenting his case to her.

"PRE-MEDIDTATED FRAUD?" Six bellowed in shock, eyes wide.

"Believe me, Lera gave me a throughout account of what the Spetznaz men are planning to do."

"But do you have evidence of this?" Six calmed herself down, "I want to a concrete reason to let you out."

"Indeed I have," Doc pulled out a USB stick and put it in her laptop. He opened a file. The sounds of the Spetznaz men yelling curse words, the explicit plans of fooling the UN, and Finka's protest was enough to convince her. "Only someone like me can tell they're frauds."

"GO, FUCKING GO!" Six screamed.

The Spetznaz men were teetering on the edge of the front row seats. The UN consortium was packed with the brim with CTU's from around the world. The judges were analyzing each CTU's appeal to not have their sweet, sweet funding taken away. Some were laughed off stage, some wept with them, some were immediately booed. Next to them were the Scotland Yard, which was only two people. One of them was a tall, string bean of an Irish man, with wild puffy dark hair. The other was a taller, broader man. He looked like Sledge but softer and had a dark auburn faux-hawk.

The Irish man whispered to Glaz, "Your leader looks like he's full of shit,"

"Language, O'Daly!" The Scottish man admonished him, "Also that's incredibly rude."

"Just saying what I feel, Kiernan, gosh!" O'Daly fired back, crossing his arms.

"Will the Spetznaz come up? Spetznaz?" The announcer droned on. Many repeated her, but in different languages. The Russian men got up and walked up to the stage from the back end.

"Remember what we rehearsed," Tachanka reminded them, "Let's give them a show. I love you all."

One of the judges, an old man in a suit and glasses, looked at the four men. His lips curled up in intrigue and asked, "You men are Spetznaz, yes?"

"Indeed we are, sir," Glaz replied, "Please listen to our plea. We still need funding."

"Can you please list the reasons that we need funding, sirs?"

Tachanka stepped forward, "I will, sir. Russia, despite its big economy- ASS LICKER!"

"Sir, this is not a game. If you're going to shout curses at us, please leave the stage."

"We are completely serious. I have Tourette's Syndrome. So do the rest of us- SHIT!" Tachanka continued, motioning towards a shaking and blubbering Fuze, "Still has heavy amounts of poverty in rural areas. This thins out- ASS! Our forces. While we do get plenty of funding from our home country, it's not enough-"

"TITTY SPRINKLES!" Kapkan had an outburst, seizing up on his shoulder, "Our weaponry and equipment are showing wear. They can only last so much against the snow. SHIT!"

"WASHCLOTH!" Fuze blubbered and shook his head, "While the Spetznaz is still for counter-terrorism, we decided to ramp up our efforts- HAMBURGERS! Towards peacetime. That means delivering care packages to those impoverished and war-torn and funding for survival supplies to us and civilians. SHIT!"

"Boop," Glaz made it soft but high-pitched and snapped his fingers. He was doing it consistently but no one really heard him after Fuze stopped talking.

"ASSHOLE!" Tachanka had another outburst, "In conclusion, to take away our funding is not only hindering the peacetime efforts of our country, but spitting on the face of the differently-abled that chose to serve their country. FISHSTICKS!"

"Mhmmm…." The old man mulled over his response, "Anything to champion to differently-abled and the efforts of those who bring peace. Perhaps we were wrong to underestimate the progressiveness of the Spetznaz…" He took a pen out and signed a few papers, "You keep your funding." The Russians gathered in a circle and cheered quietly amongst themselves. Just as they walked off the stage, the back door burst open.

"THEY ARE FAKING IT!"

The crowd gasped and whispered amongst themselves. The old man picked up his pen and fixed his glasses, and roared, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

"I may not be part of the Spetznaz, but I am their medic," Doc descended down the stairs, towards the stage. His white lab coat was trailing behind him, but instead of scrubs underneath, he wore his GIGN armor, "I have never diagnosed any of them with Tourette's Syndrome."

"BULLSHIT!" Tachanka roared, "He is lying. I AM IN LOVE WITH RUSLANA! AT NIGHT I DREAM ABOUT KISSING RUSLANA-AAAAAAAH!" He hopped back, eyes wide, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Finka told me everything. None of you went to me about this and I can tell by looking you're just abusing the symptoms," Doc continued.

"That bitch!" Tachanka cursed, "KAPKAN AND I TOUCHED WIENERS. I mean, winter is a very cold time of year!" The crowd went from awestruck silence to speaking amongst themselves.

"Do you have any definitive proof of this, medic?" The old man asked.

"Don't mind if I do," Doc tossed a USB stick at the table, "The video should tell you it's all pre-meditated."

"Bylat!" Tachanka cursed once more, running off stage and out through the back door. The Spetznaz followed him. Doc followed them too.

The Russians ran through an alley and that's where Doc followed them to. They emerged to an Asda, where Thatcher and Sledge were shopping. "Bloody hell, I've never seen Russians going inside an Asda!" Thatcher spat. Sledge shrugged his shoulders.

They went from aisle to aisle, with Fuze accidentally bumping into Mute, who was enjoying his donuts. Mourning the fallen donuts, Mute took after Fuze. After sneaking around the store, the Spetznaz burst out and ran across the street. Doc and Mute ran after them. The next destination was an ice cream shop.

"Aizawa is best man and anyone who disagrees can suck my dick!" Hibana claimed over a scoop of butter pecan.

"No, Endeavor is best man!" Frost slammed the table and got into the other woman's face, jumping her scoop of Pumpkin Spice.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Present. Mic." Ying tersely ate her Neapolitan scoop.

"Ying, I'm glad you were able to find this ice cream shop but get out of here with that trash," Frost got into her face too.

Confused at the discussion, the men ran out of the shop. Doc secretly got a pint of Cheese ice cream. They then ran across the street once more, finding themselves in a Starbucks. The men realized they wanted some coffee so they waited in line and waited more for their drinks.

"Ever took a shit so good you sit on the toilet for a few minutes afterwards?" Valkyrie asked, clutching her Pumpkin Spice latte. Ash, Ela, and Zofia agreed elatedly over their Pumpkin Spice lattes.

The men shuddered in disgust and chugged down their coffees and went on their ways. So the Russians ran across the street again. Tachanka bumped into Kiernan, who was holding O'Daly on his shoulders. The men cursed loudly and pursued Tachanka. And so they went…

To the salon, where Fuze got a haircut…

To the bank…

To the pet store…

To Blick's, where everyone cursed at O'Daly, Kiernan, and Glaz for taking so long…

"Long time no see, Glaz," Kiernan held his copics up to him.

"Kiernan! O'Daly! My animating comrades!" Glaz hugged them both, covered in oil paints.

"Well, we still need a background painter," O'Daly greeted.

"Come on! Come on! Come on!" Tachanka shooed then out, continuing the chase. They set out on the street again, where Kapkan ran over Lion.

"Mon dieu!" Lion yelled as he brushed himself up, "Wanna get some coffee with me, mon Cheri?" Rook looked at him distastefully, arms crossed.

"Non." Rook tossed a cup of water at his face and walked away.

Their chase ended up in McDonald's, which was a few clicks near the base. Everyone ran past except Tachanka, who went up to the cashier and said, "I'll have two Number 9's, a Number 9 Large, a Number 6 with extra Dip, a Number 7, Two Number 45's, one with Cheese, and a large Soda." Just as he paid, the whole order was in a bag and he ran out with it. It now went back to base with them weaving in and out of various rooms.

"You trying to burn the place down, O'Daly?" Clash popped out to see the Irish and Scottish men running around the dormitories, "…And O'Daly wrangler, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Hi Morowa!" O'Daly greeted.

"Hi Morowa," Kiernan greeted, "We went to the UN consortium. We could've been in Team Rainbow with you, a pity."

"Scotland Yard needs you, Kiernan. O'Daly would burn everything if he doesn't have you," Clash agreed.

"Speaking of trouble, there you are!" He grabbed the collar of Tachanka's shirt and pulled him towards him and O'Daly, "Weren't you taught not to bump into people?"

"Cyka bylat!" Tachanka yelled, "That's my McDonald's!"

Mute shook his fist towards Fuze. Fuze gave Mute a number 9 and then they shook hands.

Six came into the room, livid, "Tachanka, Fuze, Kapkan, And Glaz! I saw what you did on CNN and you are all SUSPENDED!" She saw Kiernan holding Tachanka and O'Daly and let the former off his hands, "Thank you Kiernan, as good as you are, Scotland Yard wouldn't be same without you."

"No offense taken, ma'am," Kiernan replied, "Let's go home, O'Daly." The two left the base without a word. Two entered the base, debating while walking the dogs.

"So if you had to share a room between Doc and Tachanka, who would it be?" Buck asked, giving a dog a treat.

"I mean if I gotta choose between a closet pervert and a douchey con artist, I'd take Tachanka. At least he won't touch me at night," Echo answered.

"I respect Doc for what he does, but I'm glad I'm old, grouchy, and ugly. But I don't want Tachanka conning me either," Buck replied. Six yelled at the Russian men as she called in some helicopters to take them away. Everyone filed in to see the mess unfold, some even coming back from going out. The men scowled or hung their heads in shame as they left the compound. Six made a short statement but after that everyone still stayed. Doc pulled out a pint of cheese ice cream and gave it to Rook.

Doc then separated himself from the crowd, and then said, "You know, I learned something from these past few weeks. Yes, humanity is cruel and disgusting at times but at the same time humanity is amazing and progressive. No one is perfect, and this is big coming from me. Yet in all my years of service, you have to hit rock bottom to really learn how to a better human. Yes war is hell, but it doesn't excuse you from making the mistakes I or the Spetznaz made. And yes, we at Team Rainbow aren't perfect, but we can learn to make a better world for all."

"Yeah," Rook said, digging into his ice cream, "Speaking of trust you shouldn't start a relationship with someone just because they touch you down there."

[imaginationbangtan]

Opix ✨

Words: 1,862

Genre: Fantasy (Supernatural)

Summary: For years, you’ve felt different. Like you’re an outsider. You’ve seen things that no one else can see. Heard things that no one else can hear. You’ve always brushed those things off though, feigning ignorance. Now you’re being told that you’re the only hope to save a dying planet. Are you ready?

______________

{1} {2}

Your heart started beating at a million miles per hour. Who were these guys? And why were they in your room? How’d the get in was the better question.

“We got in through the bedroom window. You should start keeping it locked.” The face in front of you answered as if he read your mind. You turned to your bedside table and clicked on the light, getting a better view of the black-haired men in your room.

Next thing you know, you were about to scream but the brown-eyed man in front of you covered your mouth. “Please, don’t scream and let us explain. In a couple seconds, your aunt is going to call and ask how everything is going. Don’t mention us at all or there will be hell to pay, okay? Nod if you understand.” You slowly started to nod and he smiled, again, revealing a pair of fangs. “Next, you’re going to put it on speaker and ask her about the case she’s working, alright?” Again, you slowly started to nod, not wanting to find out what would happen if you didn’t compel to his wishes.

“Good.” He uncovered your mouth and ruffled your hair.

A couple seconds later, your phone started to ring and you picked it up, keeping your eyes on the strange men. “Hello?”

“Hey, I’m sorry if I woke you up. I just wanted to know if you were okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I couldn’t sleep so I’ve been watching TV.” You lied and looked at the brown-eyed man who nodded. You rested your phone on your bed and put it on speaker. “How’s the case going?”

“It’s the strangest thing. He has claw marks and bite marks all over him but they aren’t dog marks. These seem much deeper, and, like I said before, his heart is missing which is also strange.” You looked up the man who a gave each other the same look and nodded.

“Strange indeed.” 

“Well, I don’t want to keep you up; I just wanted to see if you were doing alright. I’ll talk to you when I get home. Love you.”

“Love you too.” You said and ended the call. “Is this what you wanted?” You asked looking at the men.

“I suppose.” Said another brown-eyed man.”

“See, I told you Namjoon that they’d be back at it again. But this time, they’ve joined forces.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“You shut up. You’re mad because I’m right.” Jungkook said, leaning back in the chair he was sitting on.

“Alright! Enough arguing. We got out information and-”

“Pause. Who died and put Taehyung in charge?” Jungkook asked, looking around.

Soon enough, everyone was arguing. Curses were spilled, insults were thrown, and you were in the middle of it.

“Don’t worry, there aren’t always like this.” A voice next to you said. You looked to your left and saw another brown-eyed man. “Hoseok,” he said, sticking his hand out. “Nice to meet you.” You looked down at his hand and back at him, raising your eyebrow. He shrugged and put his hand back as he continued to watch the five boys argue with each other.

“Enough!” Yelled who you learned to be Namjoon. “We’re not getting anywhere with this pointless child's play.”

“Wow, look at you, saying something smart Mr. IQ 148,” Jungkook said, rolling his eyes.

Another man, who you learned to be Yoongi, stepped forward, but Namjoon held him back. “He’s just a kid.”

“Yeah, well, I’m getting sick and tired of this kid’s shit.”

“Are you all finally done now?” Asked Hoseok, who looked bored. “You all are scaring the poor human girl.” He said, referring to you. Soon, all eye were on you and you looked down at your bed sheets, hating the attention.

“Forgive us, we don’t normally act like this. I’m Namjoon, that’s Yoongi,” he pointed to the man next to him. “I see you’ve met Hoseok. That’s Jungkook,” he pointed to the man in the chair. “He’s Taehyung,” he pointed to the man who gave you the instructions. And, we have another man outside, he’s Jin.”

“I hope we didn’t scare you with our yelling.” Taehyung pointed.

“I’m more scared by the fact that there are seven men at my house, six of them are in my house, and one of them has fangs.”

“We all do.” Yoongi corrected you.

“Well, that’s lovely. But, anyway, that doesn’t explain why six men are in my bedroom in the middle of the night.”

“You recognize know us?” Namjoon asked with a confused look.

“If I recognized you guys, do you think I’d react the way I did?” You stated, rolling your eyes.

“We at least thought he would’ve mentioned us to you.”

“Who is this ‘he’?”

“Never mind that,” Yoongi brushes you off. “What matters is that we need your help.”

“My help? No one has ever asked my help for anything.”

“Well, it’s not necessarily you, we need. Just your eyes.” Hoseok clarified.

“You see, Y/N,” Namjoon walked over to you and sat on the bed. “Your eyes are special in any way imaginable. You see things that no one else can. You’ve noticed this, yes?” You nodded, keeping your eyes on Namjoon.

“Well, where we come from, your eyes are especially needed. We’re from a dying planet and your eyes may be the key to saving it.”

“We need you to look for someone,” Yoongi piped in. “There’s someone who isn’t supposed to be on our planet and is fucking with all our resources which is draining our planet.”

“Wait, how come you can’t do it yourselves?” All of this made no sense to you. Vampires? A different planet? They need your help? Like, who needs your help?

“We can’t see what you see,” Yoongi answered.

“You see different color shadows on different people, right?” Hoseok asked and you nodded. “Well-”

“Guys,” Jin appeared at the window. “We got company.”

“Shit,” Namjoon cursed under his breath and turned to you. “Everything will be explained later on, but, as of right now, we have to go.” 

One by one, they all hopped out the window. Taehyung was the last person to leave but, before he left, he smiled. “We’ll see you bright and early, love.” And with that, he was off.

What the hell just happened? You tried to wrap your head around this but none of it made sense. You looked at the edge of your bed and saw Coconut sleeping like nothing happened.

“Some guard dog you are.” You said under your breath. You leaned back on your headboard and sighed. How were supposed to get any sleep now when all you were thinking about were the seven men at your house? You rubbed your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. You laid under your blanket and stared up at the ceiling, praying for sleep to come, but it never did. You kept tossing and turning until, finally, you fell back asleep.

Until your alarm clock rang. Your eyes snapped open at the sound of the infernal contraption. It felt like you just fell asleep a couple minutes ago. You groaned and sat up, raising your arm and beating the alarm senseless until it finally shut up. 

Then the events of last night into this morning came flooding back. We’ll see you bright and early, love. Taehyung’s word echoed in your mind. 

What the hell did he mean by that? You shrugged and stood up, stretching and looking at Coconut who was wide awake and staring at your bathroom door.

“Coco,” you grabbed the nearest object which, for some odd reason, was a calculator. “What’s wrong?” She started to bark at the door when you asked that. You slowly made your way to the bathroom door and grabbed the doorknob. Should I really open it? I mean, whoever is in there isn’t bothering me.

Are you serious, Y/N? There could be an ax murderer in there.

Yeah, but... he’s not murdering me so...

Just open the door! Your subconscious screamed at you. You took a deep breath and opened the door, nearly screaming when you saw Jimin sitting on top of your sink counter.

“Jimin?” You asked, annoyed. He gave you a small wave when he saw you, but then, his eyes landed on the calculator and he started laughing.

“What were you going to do? Divide me by zero?” He said, hopping off the counter and taking the calculator from your hand.

Coco came run into the bathroom a couple minutes later and started barking at Jimin. He tilted his head, giving the dog a confused look, and bent down, stroking the dog’s head. You swore to yourself you say saw his eyes flash red for a second he petted the dog. Coco instantly stopped barking and received his touch. Jimin looked back up at you and gave you a small smile.

“Animals love me.”

“Right..” You said, giving him a weird look. You noticed he wasn’t dressed up in the black suit but was in a white graphic tank top and black ripped jeans. But what stuck out was his facial features. His small smile showed off his perfectly aligned teeth, along with a lip piercing which was extremely attractive to you, and his eyes held a sense of hope. You also noticed that he had a total of five piercings on his ear, four lobe piercings, and one cartilage piercing and that his hair wasn't completely black but black with silver streaks mixed in..

“Are you analyzing me yet?” He asked, raising his eyebrow and you rolled your eyes. You exited the bathroom and went over to your closet, looking for your school uniform. 

“Why are you even here?” You asked when you found you’re white button-up shirt and black plaid skirt.

“Didn’t hear what Taehyung said?” He asked, leaning against the bathroom doorway.

“‘We’ll see you bright and early, love’. Yes, I hear him but that doesn’t explain why you’re here.” You said, walking over to your dresser and grabbing your black tie.

“Well, long story short, I’m here to semi babysit you for the day.”

“I’m not twelve,” You said, not bothering to look at him.

“Yes, but you're in danger.” 

“What do you mean?”

He opened his mouth to say something but the sound of a door unlocking cut him off. “Y/N?” You heard your aunt’s voice from downstairs. You turned in Jimin’s direction but he was gone. You heard the sound of the leaves rustling and you turned to see your window completely open.

How...?

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Your aunt asked, standing at the doorway. “Isn’t it a bit chilly to have the windows?” 

“Yeah,” you said, making your way over to the windows and closing it. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

__________

Ugh, I’m so disappointed in this part.

My whole goal was over 2,000 words but this felt like the perfect place to end so I had to.

;-;

Anyway...

I hope you enjoyed!!!

[cherrynika]

It’s nice to see Alex again though he usually avoids former partners. It’s simply been long enough since their breakup that no trace of awkwardness is felt, simply a sense of familiarity. He’s more or less the same, having decided to keep the facial hair Jipyeong had always hated. It’s as sleazy-looking in real life as it is in the instagram photos he pretends he’s not scrolling through. That’s a pointless exercise that makes him wonder if he’d be more successful if he had chosen to stay in San Francisco, or if he’d still be the same person but with shittier fashion sense. It does, however, answer many questions that he’d like to ask (have you neutered Tim Tam yet, yes), prefer not to (are you married, 2 girlfriends and what was probably a sugar baby later, the answer is no), and never wondered (Crossfit is indeed life-changing; hot yoga gives you 10 more IQ points!).

Alex is cordial and professional at the Sandbox, offering Jipyeong nothing but a handshake before they sit down to grade the baby startups. But he lingers conspicuously in the meeting room after all the other judges leave. Jipyeong fingers a piece of his hair that’s come loose despite the pomade and waits.

“You look fluffier. Fatter.” Of course Alex’s first words are about his weight.

“I started eating rice again. I hated low-carb.”

“Rice or tteokbokki?” Alex smiles. “Anyway, it’s not a bad change. Let’s go to Gotgan. I have a reservation for 7pm.”

“You made a reservation for two?” Alex has always been overly confident, but that’s his charm.

“If you say no, I’ll ask Dongchun.”

Jipyeong considers him, looking almost exactly the way he did when Ms Yoon first introduced them 5 years ago. She’s always been able to look right into him and see what he wanted. As much as he respects her, he’s never wanted to tell her that her matchmaking attempt worked. Nothing he does today will have the tiniest effect on the future. All that’s in the past. All that’s waiting for him are Yeongsil and his big silent bed. So he gathers his notes into his satchel and fishes out the keys.

“Let’s take my car.”

“Let’s take the subway. It’s not far and we’ll probably get drunk.”

__

They stay sober. While getting drunk is fun, Jipyeong’s most regrettable moments (bar one that has surfaced intermittently for the last fifteen years) have all occurred when he was intoxicated (crying at a class KTV when Mrs Choi’s favourite song came on, dancing to Wonder Girls in front of a girlfriend’s parents). Staying sober is for the best.

Alex makes some noises about heading back to his hotel room. They both know he doesn’t mean it.

“I want to show you my new place,” Jipyeong says when they’re halfway there. He’s forgotten how private the sidewalks can be at night, cars on one side, the river on the other, blanketed in the dark. “It’s bigger than the one I had before I went to America.” Waves of headlights wash over them, illuminating Alex’s face before dipping them back into darkness. Everyone is rushing somewhere that only they think is important.

“I’d be surprised if apartments could be any smaller.”

“They’re always getting smaller.” Jipyeong jostles against him to avoid a woman on a bicycle. Alex puts his arm around him and doesn’t let go. In San Francisco this is what couples do. In Seoul they’re just old friends. Skinship, being a mentor, being a sunbae--these are all great excuses for what Jipyeong really wants to do. Even through two shirts and a lined blazer his body wants Alex’s body.

They walk in silence though the lobby, past the doorman whose chief qualification is knowing when not to look and float skywards in the lift.

--

“We have to take our shoes off, I just want you to know. You can leave them over there. Yeongsil, lights please.” The lights flicker on, Yeongsil is clearly having a good day.

“You know, I don’t let people wear shoes in my house either… That’s not Alexa.”

“It’s Yeongsil, it’s an AI speaker. It’s one of Ms Yoon’s more promising startups. It’s… more interesting than Alexa.” Jipyeong says, taking off his jacket and leaving it on the table. “It told me you were coming last week.”

“No, no, I told you that I was coming.”

“Yeah, but before I got your email. He tells fortunes too and he told me someone from my past was coming.”

“Everyday you meet someone from your past. And you shouldn’t let it listen to everything you do. It’s going to get hacked.”

“Astrology is in, everyone is going to love that feature,” Jipyeong shrugs. “Nothing I do here is worth any money, they can just hack my bank accounts.”

“You’re not paranoid enough for someone who works in tech.” Alex says, as he almost fondles Yeongsil.

“I’m actually trying to reduce my paranoia.” Jipyeong takes Yeongsil from Alex and stuffs him under the jacket. “Does that make you feel better?”

“No.” Alex continues to touch the other things in his apartment without permission. “Is every photo here of yourself? I know you don’t have family photos but that’s so vain. You should’ve kept some of the gang at 2STO or at least something to remind you of me.”

“The internet is filled with pictures of you. Anyway I still have the Grandpa Rudin you lent me, it’s more useful.”

“Did you really finish it?”

“I just wanted to know why everyone complains about it.”

“Well, now you know I guess. If you liked it don’t tell me.” Alex has moved on to the cardboard sign that proclaims Jipyeong the 2001 winner of the Inter High Schools Investment Competition brushing a finger over the scratch mark Tim Tam made on it before Jipyeong decided it would be safer in his closet. “I like the lamps. Are you into art now?”

“The seller had it staged, I just decided to buy it the way it was. I think it looks very cohesive.”

“So that’s why it looks like no one lives here. It’s like you don’t have any stuff.”

“No, I have the plants and I keep the EXO and Apink merch in the walk-in closet, it’s too personal to have it out here.”

“Red Velvet is better. I wish it weren’t so bloody creepy to be an uncle fan.”

Alex is still the only man with whom he can talk about Eunji and Kyungsoo and not feel dirty. He’s stumbled upon Dongchun’s Twitter (which is, in his own defense, a fascinating read) and knows too much about his deep love for TWICE. There is something a little unsettling about ajusshi fans, even if he is one himself.

“I think there’s something more interesting we can do here.” he takes the sign and puts it back on the top shelf. “I haven’t been laid in 6 months. I’m going to burst.”

“Couldn’t you have picked someone up at a nightclub?” Alex is smiling in such a familiar way; they both know this old dance.

“They’re full of university students.” Jipyeong says while helping Alex out of his jacket, which surprisingly, is only GAP. “You smell like metal.”

“It’s Sartorial, remember? From Penhaligon’s? It’s got that magnesium note.”

“You still haven’t finished it?” Jipyeong bought it as a gift while in London for him. It was so long ago, almost like a dream. He’s had dreams, whenever he’s been alone for too long, of undressing another person, but he can never remember what happens afterwards. The dream-person’s shirt has no smell, no trace of sweat. He slips Alex’s shirt off his shoulders. No undershirt as expected.

“Nope. I bought another bottle. It’s different from all the other man-perfumes. It doesn’t just smell like tonka bean.” He slips a finger over Jipyeong’s mouth, smearing his summer lip balm before dipping inside and scratching his gums lightly with a fingernail. “Your mouth is as lovely as you are horrible. Have you learned anything since we split up?”

“Test me,” Jipyeong says.

The only light in the bedroom is light pollution from the city below. It’s still more than enough to see by, despite the fact that Jipyeong’s night vision has gone to shit from more than a decade spent staring at a computer screen.

[this part not written yet]

--

He dozes off without meaning to and wakes up to the sound of engines. Alex is playing F1. He must have gone through his closet and found the playstation Jipyeong has been trying and failing to quit.

“You’ve got some very impressive beard burn on your jaw. ” Alex says as he overtakes Rosberg. He’s chosen the Singapore circuit. Onscreen the city is cloaked in darkness, the only thing that exists is a winding silver road and cars driving nowhere at 300 miles an hour.

He leans over and takes the controller from Alex, crashing into a Ferrari before spinning out into the barriers. “Are you bragging?”

“No, I’m just being honest.”

It’s a strange mirror of their early days when he would wake up to Alex on a coding binge, the clacking of the keyboard starting and stopping with his thoughts, the weak light of his laptop throwing huge shadows on the wall.

Jipyeong rolls forward on his belly; he wants to see Alex properly. “What do you like about Samsan Tech?”

“I like their engineering. Dosan’s incredibly talented. Their CODA algorithm builds on existing knowledge, and is an improvement on it.”

“And that’s your professional opinion?”

“What else would it be based on?” Alex fixes him with a look.

“Well. People say that you can’t be emotional as an investor. But how can it not be emotional?”

“Jipyeong. I’m excited in the way that I am when I see something beautiful. I wish you could see it too. I still can’t believe you’ve gotten so old without learning to read code.”

“I can code.”

“I don’t mean using OCaml to code a model.”

“There’s only so many hours in a day.” He rolls over and watches the dead light from the screen play across the ceiling. “I can always ask an expert.”

“I’m going back to America after Demo Day, you know. As fun as it would be to stay here and pretend we don’t know each other I have a job I have to get back to.”

“I meant other experts.”

“There are none like me.”

“Well. Talking to you is more fun.” He tangles his fingers with Alex.

“You’re not still posting loss porn on Wallstreetbets are you?”

“I just did. Lost fifty thousand on Apple puts.”

“You’re going to end up living in a corndog stand again.”

“Actually, I won’t. I didn’t tell you yet but I found her last month. She’s in a food truck now. So there’s nowhere I would go.”

“Can I meet her?” Alex perks up. He’s always loved a good story. “I want to know what you were like as a kid.”

[badsithnocookie]

alright, let’s do this.

war for iokath #1

[ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 ]

spoilers for the entire fractured alliances chain (5.2 onwards)

okay. first of all. arcann terrorised way more. but nbd.

secondly. are we like. including worlds from the republic and empire in this? or the cartel controlled worlds? there are very few neutral worlds in the gffa - even shitholes like darvannis are cartel controlled. places like tatt are the exception because, as i’ve noted elsewhere, it’s basically unconquerable - try, and the desert will eat you. and even then, its inhabited-by-humans areas are largely exchange or cartel-controlled.

so like. tell me. how are the republic taking it that worlds are seceding from them to join an illegal insurgency in wild space? how are the empire taking it? how are the hutts taking it? how is anyone willing to do trade with the Alliance, given as they are stealing control of these worlds out from under legitimate recognised governments? where does the Alliance get all these supplies it’s supposedly sending out - are they returning the goods stolen by zakuul? and if so, why are they only returning them on pain of joining the Alliance but still having the nerve to act like they’re the fucking good guys?

i call this sha’s “eccentric hermit who has nothing to do with this alliance gubbins” look.

what kind of aid? why does zakuul need aid more than the rest of the galaxy? like. i know this question is in here to force that DS response but. zakuul wanted for nothing, except for when the plot holes demanded it. it was a post-scarcity society. largely because it was stealing from everyone else, but still.

we really start in media res with this, which is something i’m find with theoretically but for the most part seems to be so that bioware could skip over the bits where they have to fudge a reason for the commander to give a shit about iokath and get straight to jerking it to superweapons

i know that... you know, but i still really hate this line. theron not have the Force himself, but he was raised by a Jedi, and has spent enough time around Jedi to know how the Force works. it’s awkward and it’s forced (if you’ll excuse the term) and it doesn’t fit and i hates.

i also really hate this ULTIMATE POWAH bullshit. i don’t know if drew had a hand in this but it’s the exact same bullshit you see in the JK story. everything is MORE POWEAHFUL than the last thing and GOES UP TO ELEVEN and KILLS MOAR THINGS and that’s.... after a while it stops being scary and horrifying and just becomes cheap and disrespectful and nasty. i’ve written before about how nihilus wasn’t terrifying (simply) because he was a world killer and how with vitiate bioware completely missed the entire fucking point and it applies here too. ‘ITS MOAR POWAHFUL THAN TEH LAST MACGUFFIN’ is a shitty writing trope i expect from amateurs and joss whedon. if you cannot think of something in the whole of the star wars universe more interesting and terrifying than the last boss + n then honestly i despair for your creativity. (though it’d explain why your original novels tanked, eh drew?)

i don’t even know where to start with this. the empire claiming it would be objectively bad, yes, but they are at the very least a legitimate state. i just. this entire angle does nothing but convince me of the semi-headcanon that Lana views the Alliance as her own personal fiefdom, with the Commander as her puppet figureheard. moreover, the EA’s only claim to being the dominant power is that they have the fleet, which they stole from the people of Zakuul (despite the fact that Master Kyo let Zakuul rule itself? but i guess she giveth with one hand and have the plot taketh away with the other)

i am absolutely sure, yeah. let’s not forget that it’s the sith who pushed for and developed and ultimately used the superweapons in the JK story, and a sith who is pushing me to claim and use a superweapon right now this minute

stg the traitor’s the only one here talking sense

this line, though, is  complete fuck. it’s as DS as they come, but she’s given no choice in saying it whatsoever. ‘fuck all those people whose lives were ruined by the overuse and abuse of superweapons in this plot, they’re nameless mooks so we don’t care about them anyway. waving our dick around is much more important)

i swear to god the BWA writing team would have poo-pooed the cuban missile crisis for being ‘too boring’

anyway, none of the ships in orbit work, for plot reasons, and for some reason the Alliance never bothered to keep that close eye i was promised on Iokath (outlander!Eirn finished up Iokath last night for the first time - she spared Scorpio, btw - and she was informed by her advisors that they’d be keeping a close watch on it and know the minute it could be safely explored again. apparently, however, the ALliance also has a collective IQ of ‘eggs’, because not only did they not do this, but they failed entirely to send either a decent ground force or indeed anyone at all except a sacrificial droid along with Lana)

this post has gotten long enough so i’ll start a new one for iokath itself. it’s already gonna be a long ‘un.

[knightofbalance-13]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZzVHlhsEeA

Wow, just wow.

It’s like FMF heard how I said that I found a WORSE RWBY reviewer than him...

Then proceeded to go “BUT this isn’t even my FINAL FORM!”

0:54 No, your group RWDE is terrible because you have no morals. You’re only limit is not what is right or what you stand for, but what you can get away with. RWDE only reposnded well because they had literally no other options without outing themselves as uncaring. You however can use the combined echo chamber to ignore reality and pretend like your lies are truth so you won’t realize what you’re eating is shit.

1:04 Well if he did that Lord Fatass, you’d call him a Nazi and then say he fucks his dog because you said so. I mean, that’s what you do to your own critics, which just kind of proves you know what you are doing is wrong and you don’t want to face it.

1:32 Bullshit Slick, I’ve seen you in RWDE. You get involved ALL the god damn time.

1:37 Wow, how knew friendly fire was enabled?

1:44 Now does Jess have any opinions aside form yours? Or does she just spoonfeed you what you already think? Because considering YOUR interactions with anyone who doesn’t think exactly like you: I don’t trust you.

1:52 By talking to them. About this topic. Which is exactly what you tried denying a few seconds ago. So you’re lying before we even get to RWBY. Great.

3:01 No, they are willing to talk. It’s just they can’t or else the assholes you people created and encouraged will rise up like zombies and tear them limb from limb. I’ve seen it happen so you can’t deny it.

3:12 “The idea of a homosexual character being a villain-it’s just thrown in there”

... This is the people who RWDE praises as the height of intelligence: Dumbasses who think that gay people cannot be bad, as though they are somehow any different that straight people.

3:29 Ah huh, so literally ALL THE OTHER SCENES WITH ILLA never happened. Because that proved she had depth already. And Illa had rather explicitly romantic interactions towards Blake with favoritism towards Blake. It wasn’t tacked on, you just tacked THAT on to pander to your RWBY hating audience.

3:37 Hi Lord Fatass. I see your IQ has dropped since we last met. No fucking wonder, all the energy needed to generate that hot air must leave your brain lacking.

Seeing as she was SENDING BLAKE TO ADAM: it wouldn’t affect her motivations at all. If she loved Adam then yes but she doesn’t, so no. But let’s see what snake oil you’re gonna try to sell us.

3:41 https://youtu.be/56Z6po1woq0?t=12m19s

“Literally” huh? Seems like that came well past the Adam section. Almost like it had NOTHING to do with it.

4:00 SO you people didn’t even fucking KNOW what you were talking about. FOur minutes in and you’ve proven yourself unreliable.

4;13 Problem is, you assholes abuse Death Of The Author so much that it has lost all menaing, You gusy don’t get to have interpretations due to your immense bias and untrustworthy behavior as well as a tendency to lie your asses off.

You guys get to show facts and make statements about them SOLELY. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for you to do so otherwise with RWBY.

4:17 No articulation: No credit.

4:27 And we should trust you...why? You just got done saying that she was doing stuff to get Adam to notice her by your shock that the looking comment was about Blake, showing that you don’t know what you are talking about. So your “feeling”could be you misreading the scene or lying about it.

5:03 So did you not watch the Blake CHaracter short or a good chunk of Volume 5/ Because saying Illa’s motivation is to fuck Blake shows you are spewing shit.

5:13 Yeah, it is...so you being a RWBY fan and ignoring the actual motivation don’t fit. SO which is it? Are you lying or do you hate the show so you make up shit?

5:27 Minus the sociopathy. And the selfishness. And the edginess. And the self serving motives. And the personal investiment in the White Fang. And the dick. And the sword. And the anima traits. And the backstory. And the result...

What do they have in common again aside from being White Fang members?

5:35 I see. SO this isn’t four people talking, this is one person talking and three meat puppets. Well, at least I’m only tormenting one person then.

6:01 Fifty bucks says he bites himself in the ass.

6:07 Do I get extra money if he bites himself not even ten seconds later?

6:31 And nothing changed with Illa. She still hates humans. She still cares for Blake. She still doesn’t know what to do. She still doubts herself. She still fights for the Fanaus. And she still has her morals. That’s a hundred bucks now.

6:32 Which is why the character short in which we had her motivation said nothing about Blake and was about her parents.

7:43 Considering SlickSlick is Tumblr and you’re massive following here: You are. In fact, you’re the root of tumblr’s bullshit in RWBY. I should get to tearing them out sometime...

7:54 Here’s more proof you are indeed Tumblr. You can only see in race, gender and ethnicity. Not diversity of thought but rather superficial diversity. Just like Tumblr. Also: All four of you are straight, white and male. You have no room to talk.

8:11 And the shovel official has more IQ than you Fatass since Adam clearly wants to kill humans for Fanaus supremecy, not to fuck. Just like Tumblr, you cannot separate WHAT a person is from WHO a person is.

8:27 Doesn't matter if Illa is gay. Her viewpoint has NOTHING to do with her sexuality

8:33 “all on the unrequiented love”

Was relevant for 43 seconds. I counted. Check for yourself. I do have a link to the moment: Just count the seconds until it changes topic.

Proof you have no idea what you are talking about.

9:11 Precisely what they did. But that can’t be bitched at so here you are, denying reality. Pathetic.

9:36 A. Wasn’t relevant until now (do yo0u wlak around saying “I WANNA FUCK WOMEN!” all the damn time?)

B. Catmen never came out. Incompatible. You just wanna draw a connection to Cartmen to pass off his infamy to Illa while being a clown. Well you fialed both Lord Fatass.

10:05 He can’t eb Edgy lord Extreme.

Fatass is there.

10:11 Considering the actual commentateries don’t rely on echo chambers and edited footage and ignorance to make points, you people need a red pill.

10:17 The fact we are the same species sickens me. It reminds me I can never escape your shit because it’s in me. And it’s disgusting.

10:29 Yeah, people who call others beta are usually omegas themselves. Alphas don’t nee dto assert their dominance or prove themselves, that all comes naturally and they naturally get it. You guys won’t even speak out anywhere that doesn’t give you the advantage or shows weakness. MurderOfBirds cries on screen and is humble enough to thank his fans and acknowledge his flaws: You people put ona  façade, act like your hot shit and never own up. You’re all weaklings.

10:43 Illa never abused Blake in a relationship. Illa never killed out of spite (in fact, she saved out of love). Oh wiat, not your narrative. Sorry, I forgot you’re all delusional.

11:14 I think you meant to see “We’re all equal shit”. Considering yoru just Fatass’ drones: Yes you are.

12:16 And the fact that you are gonna act like that is any different than America having all white casts proves you ain’t peak Tumblr...how?

12:23 When you assholes became Tumblr.

12:49 Not like that’s exclusive to RACE asshole. An Asian growing up in America is not gonna have Chinese values. And a white person leaving in China will not have the same culture as a white person in America.

13:14 Thing is: They ain’t all the same thing. Blake is a Fanaus, Weiss is from Atlas-You have three differnet sides there. And even then, again: Not bound by race. 

13:59 Not if they hate each other “because.” Just like getting along for no reason is boring too. You don’t understand how writing works. Then again, you never did so you’re still going shit!

15:19 NO, THERE ISN’T. Race, Gender and Sexuality mean NOTHING to WHO a person is unless they let it and even then, that a part of PERSONALITY. Only people who argue that those do have an affect are the bigots or idiots. Oh wait, you’re the second one...

15:53 Oh so NOW different culture sdon’t matter huh? Never occurred to you that THEIR society doesn’t work EXACTLY THE SAME as ours? That maybe, they don’t care about that?

How are you all not Tumblr again?

16:45 Not all shows wanna do that and certainly not all people want to watch it. Only people who do are, surprise, hyper Tumblrs!

16:53 Actually you do: Illa. She says nothing about it, she doesn't mention it, she doesn’t act like it, she has no trouble aside form the usual and being gay itself isn’t shocking. SO there you go.

17:19 Easy: Care about something else. The society doesn’t care and you shouldn’t.

18:35 FOr all of you actually since you show no variety in opinion and are notorious for echo chambers.

You just keep saying “We should judge people based on sex, sexuality and race! Taht’s how thinsg work!” without thinking about how so many people want to IGNORE all that.

And taht’s all. Final Thoughts: As expected, they make up bullshit and actm like it’s reality. It’sm RWDE in pure, concentrated video form and surprisingly, they don’t wanna admit it.

Basically: worthless opinions by untrustworthy and stupid people. So laugh at them, make him flip out and dig themselves a hole to be stuck in and leave.

[abundantchewtoys]

Homestuck^2 re: Chapter 1 “Clown Logistics” (p57-95)

So, I would like to see the persecuting crew, but I wonder what the Clown Logistics'd apply to in that context.

It might also apply to getting rid of Gamzee's dead body - if Vriska ML fears Jane might come after her and (Vriska).

Though I would like it to apply to something more innocent, like John talking to Harry Anderson and harlequins somehow making their way into the subject matter.

---

Page 57

Oooooh, so THAT is what Vriska ML looks like! The text hadn't described her that much in detail, so this is a pleasant surprise!

She's a goth, hahah. It's ironic - in a way, dressing this way isn't rebellious at all, if that's what she was aiming for, since both her moms are themselves quite gothic too. Didn't expect the short hair, but it stands to reason a child raised by Kanaya and Rose wouldn't have long hair where her mothers don't!

Cool outfit all around.

So, it's also a nice juxtaposition to (Vriska) from the Game Over timeline. She went more the punk route under influence of Meenah.

And post-retcon (Vriska) is still looking quite burned and bloodied from her escapades on the battlefield in the Furthest Ring. Though it's notable that her chest isn't pierced, I thought a piece of broken spacetime hit her there

Hahah, she's claiming John's phone. Stickyfingers Serket.

So this means that when Jake says he didn't know where John went to... He was here just now, talking to Rose! So this takes place before John went to talk to Roxy and Harry Anderson. Oh boy, so we might be in for seeing that heartwrenching father-son conversation after all.

Say, the way Vriska ML holds her arms, with her sleeves like that... It kind of reminds me of Kanaya. I wonder if there are other mannerisms we'll see her having taken over from her mothers.

---

Page 58

Oooooh, hah. That's actually so true to her nature. (Vriska) staying obsure, not as relevant as the real deal? Nope.

This actually feels like something where the suggestion box could have opened up again.

Then again, we might just be shown a list of fake options on the next page.

Though I wonder if this is where people chose Vriska ML, the term used in the recap page. Vriskers is a fan favorite for the original flavour.

Hmm, Rosemary? It's just accurate but left-field enough it might work. :P And it's 8 letters, come to think of it!

---

Page 59

... Where did that eyepatch come from?! Was she really that hurt in the fight? Hah, she drew an 8/infinity symbol on it.

Ooooooh. Vrissy, huh? Okay, it's kind of a cute nickname. Sounds kind of like Vriska+sissy, though. Although, she IS kind of a sister to Vriska.

She seems to enjoy it though! But, uh, to me, it's still a bit confusing to read, since the first four letters of their name is still the same, and their text colour is all the same. :P We need Vrissy to change to red text colour, stat! :P

Anyway, they want to dispose of the body - not turn their back on it - and Vrissy wants to call some people.; So that's bound to be Tavros and Harry Anderson, right?

Though it's a bit strange she'd call her kismesis and matesprit at the same time, especially as said people are currently under close scrutiny by Jane, you'd think.

What's Vriska's reaction going to be to Vrissy calling a Tavros, though? :P

---

Page 60

Huh, that's less of an antagonistic interaction between them. Maybe "kismesis" is a loose term.

"Roll with it", pffffff.

So, Tavros is very much going to highjack one of Jane's smaller ships, right? Maybe this is what Jake referred to, his son and his kismesis being out.

Hah, namedrop! Now to see Vriska's response. Jawdrop?

Blaperile thinks Tavros might come in a car. That could work too, stuffing Gamzee's body in the trunk. And going on a roadtrip.

---

Page 61

XD, yeah, actually, a cringe reaction fits too. Then again, it was only a few hours ago she saw Tavros' ghost, so it wouldn't be THAT big a blast from the past... Wait, was she expecting GCATavrosprite or something??

Hah, so Vrissy thinks Tavros will get a kick out of seeing Gamzee dead. I don't think he'll be estatic, but he'll certainly won't mind. I'm dying to see how he looks though, Jade and John's biological brother!

---

Page 62

... That looks like a flying Smart from this angle.

Lol. Yeah, seems like a Vris thing, oggling Tavros car and being miffed it isn't hers.

---

Page 63

oooooooh. Yup, this looks what a Jane/Jake child with a bit of Gamzee peppering would end up looking like! Cool sidebangs.

The purple text and suit does beg explanation though, since Gamzee's such a shitty rolemodel. Maybe he doesn't really have a say in his clothing. :/

He does remind me of one of the kids on the Sburb fan album this way, though.

I love him.

---

Page 64

... Pfffff, and there's him keeping up the Tavros name in the unwilling clumsiness. Heheehh.

Vrissy did do a good job explaining the situation.

And it seems like this boy might have inherited some of John and Jake's panache at dramatic entrances!

---

Page 65

D: Poor, poor dude.

Ding dong, the clown is dead.

---

Page 66

(Still not seeing the kismesitude, though I LOVE Vrissy's attempt at being supportive.)

Vriska's also being rather uncharacteristically hospitable. Also, isn't she weirded out by the idea of attracting OTHER people, after having known the same 20-odd faces for so long?

---

Page 68

He's on the brink of adventure. He's heard the note desolation plays.

Tavros' life is on the brink of changing, is what I'm saying.

I wonder, is he bare underneath the sweater? Oh righ, he had that shirt with the bowtie.

---

Page 69

Hey, suspenders! ... They're just as orange as Vrissy's phone! Huh, I thought it might have been a compression issue, that Vrissy's phone was Crockertech (since it's presumably the foremost prelavent tech), but now I wonder.

... Wait, does Dirk have tech company? Orange and such. But suspenders don't strike me as his thing. :P

---

Page 71

Wait what?

... Is THIS Harry Anderson??????????

I thought the kid had glasses too, and black hair like John!

Dang, okay, those are some STRONG Lalonde genes. Coooooool.

John's son is a coolkid. My mind is blown.

---

Page 72

LOLLLLLLL.

So his personality is a delightful cross between Roxy and John's. He's only working off the assumption Vrissy's pranking him. Thinking he's the pranking MASTER.

Well, that coolkid facade is gonna be cracked real soon. Though I take his word for it he'll still know where to stash the thing. Even though he's all slick, I think the kid has inherited Roxy's IQ.

---

Page 75

Hahah, Harry Anderson didn't play truant for his last hour of school.

And Vriska's references to Alternia are going to keep weirding the other teens out.

This clown business does INDEED bring a lot of logistics with it.

Heehee, yeah, Vriska notes as well that Vrissy's rather chummy with her kismesis. I wonder if she, Tavros and Harry Anderson are in a state of flux in their quadrants. When she's chummy with one, she antagonizes the other.

Oooh, time for the first real point of disagreement between the two Vris'!

Blaperile has a good point - Tavros is going to end up with the rebels somehow. Well, I suppose him being seen with Vrissy is going to be enough to start a rumour, but he might indeed end up in the rebel camp proper, in the Troll Kingdom.

---

Page 76

Awww. Okay, so it's just a very low-energy kismesitude. His dorkiness vs her bossiness. And it just works, a better adjusted version of Nitram and Vriska's relation. It's even tamer than John and Terezi's bickering, is what I'm saying. At least for now.

---

Page 77

Pfff, so he actually went 'Right-o' and still followed Vriska out the door. Cool move for a kismesis, for sure.

N'aww, she hates-likes him.

Why did no-one captchalogue the corpse, though?

---

Page 79

So, are they gonna get caught? I'm not that worried about the honk. I mean, at this point, Gamzee reviving? I'm not really seeing it. But his body, even at rest, is full of the honkiest squeaks, that I believe.

If they let him drop now, which might happen since the aquabloods aren't stopping... It'll cause a ruckus.

---

Page 81

Pfffff. Vriska's efficiency level is at such a low level. It's hilarious.

Tavros has a good intuition, it seems, he felt she would be counting to 8.

---

Page 83

Ahhh, this is such a wacky hijinx adventure, I never expected...

Wait.

Hold the fuck up.

We're now in the Weekend at Bernie’s zone. Holy shit.

---

Page 85

Pffff, they actually managed to set the sprinklers off with so much as smoke? My god.

Yeah, they have to run for cover now, leaving the dead clown behind.

---

Page 86

Welp. WELP. They're caught. Hilarious BLUH panel though.

Okay, now, I can see how this story will get blown up, and Jane assumes the rebels kidnapped Tavros. ... Wait.

Chances are high that all the teens are just going to end up somewhere else entirely, not even at the rebel camp at all. Ah, yes, a misunderstanding pile-up causing the war to escalate is just something I can see happening here. Bonus points for it being a bunch of dumb teens covering up a dumb clown murder.

---

Page 87

Ooooooh. Five-letter names! Well, it fits Harry Anderson. And emoji's! :O We're in a new decennium now, that's for sure.

Yeah this is going viral.

I wonder if these people's names are, like, coming from Patreon backers. Or old Kickstarter backers from higher tiers.

(Yeah yeah, it's probably the writers themselves having named these folks, I'm making a federal issue from it.)

---

Page 88

Cool perspective

---

Page 89

Pfffff, Vriska's having the time of her life. She's just having fun, since she doesn't really concern herself with consequences.

Vrissy has a better handle of the impact of what just happened.

---

Page 90

... Yup, that's about the jumping to conclusions I was expecting.

Yeesh, Jane is actually as dense as Jake in a lot of critical ways. She's very good at convincing herself of the truth of something. Like here, how she still loved Gamzee, and how Tavros loved him too.

It seems like the conflict on Earth C pivots around Jane's policies. But I don't see how she can be made aware of all her shortsightedness and prejudice, at this point.

---

Page 91

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF. Okay I wasn't expecting this to happen.

But it's an actual freaking callback to the beginnings of the story, and Act 6 Act 1, hahah.

---

Page 92

... Harry is sitting on the bleachers.

Hah, he thinks this is the prank the other teens were pulling on him, just setting off the fire alarm. Thinks he has it all figured out.

---

Page 94

Best reaction image. Ever. Hahahahah.

He was like:

8) |8) :o

---

Page 95

Hah! And even a carapacian expression! (Alternatively, Pickle Inspector.) He's inherited that one from his mother's side, no doubt.

---

Shenanigans. Best shenanigans.

So, where does this take place in regard with John's make-up conversation with Roxy, anyway? My gut says before, but my brain is thinking: how would that even work. Harry'd have to be a karma Houdini. Which would actually be fitting, since magic / sleight of hand runs on both sides of his family.

I'm in love with all of these walking teenage disasters already.

[theoddcatlady]

Mismatched

I have heterochromia.

My mom has it too, only hers is sectoral heterochromia. A part of her left eye is brown while most of it is blue. Mine’s complete. My right eye is brown, the left is blue. As a kid I’d get the most excited reaction out of the adults-

“His eyes are so beautiful!”

“Wow, they’re different colors!”

“How stunning!”

I’d like to say that my eyes are only one part of myself, that it’s just a slice of the pie that makes up me. But really, the only fascinating part of myself is the heterochromia. I’m average in grades. Height. Strength. IQ. Not much stunning charisma either- I tend to stick to myself.

But in the end, it’s my eyes that saved my life. And maybe the lives of a few others.

The killings started my sophomore year. A young couple going out to smooch in their car was found dead, mangled by some wild beast. Their faces had been eaten off, their tongues ripped out, and their eyes completely gone.

I didn’t know them, they went to the private school. All the same, the stories started up about the Gosbecks Knoll Beast.

My mom laughed when I told her about it. Apparently the ‘Beast’ was around in her highschool days too, two people turned up dead before it stopped. Conveniently, at the same time a bear was brought down in the area. She told me just not to go smooching any girls around there and I’d be fine.

Of course this is when I corrected her and said ‘boys’ but this really didn’t take her by surprise. Mom’s good like that.

However, this time, The Beast wasn’t content just to gnaw on the faces of horny teens on our Lover’s Lane.

When I’d gotten to school about a week after the first incident I knew something was wrong. Everyone was quiet, and a lot of people were crying. I found my friend Trent and asked him what was up. He criticized me for not checking my Facebook before he told me.

Douglas Stafford. Better known as Doug. Senior. Everyone loved him. He was a nice guy. Heck, even to lil ole wallflower me. I’d gotten lost my first day of freshman year and he pointed me in the right direction. Even offered to walk me there. I never talked to him again, but damn. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.

He’d turned up dead in his parent’s garage. His face gnawed on just like the pair from earlier.

The next day there was a school assembly where the principal even teared up a bit and told us that it was okay if we were upset and if necessary we could take an absence from class to talk to the school counselor. Doug’s girlfriend Cathy was in the front row bawling. They’d dated since their little freshman years, and it was pretty obvious they would’ve one day gotten a house with a white picket fence and a dog.

Cathy was the last casualty of the school year, a few months later she was found dead in the forest. The Beast hadn’t been the one to kill her though- she’d hung herself and apparently Beastie helped himself, at least according to the rumors.

During the summer everything went quiet, and soon the talks of dead teens faded into the background. I think Doug’s parents started up a fund for depressed youth. I spent ninety percent of the summer in my bedroom playing way too many video games.

I also came out on Facebook. I got a lot of approval. A lot of ‘you’re perfect the way you are’. And a lot of ‘dude it was OBVIOUS.’

However, Trent didn’t see it as most people did. He unfriended me almost immediately and when I got back to school he’d apparently been badmouthing me to our mutual friends, none of them wanted anything to do with me anymore.

It hurt. I won’t lie, it hurt a lot. But I chose to ignore it for the most part. So I lost all my close friends. Big deal. I could get new ones.

Yeah, no, not happening.

Like I said, my social skills suck. The only reason Trent and I were friends in the first place was because we were assigned to be project partners in the fourth grade. We got a B. And now whenever he talked to me every other sentence had the word ‘fag’ or ‘queer’ thrown in someplace. Shows how little I knew about my best friend right?

But this is when the murders REALLY picked up the pace.

The first victim of junior year was Camille Dunn. She’d missed her bus home and decided to walk. The next morning a dogwalker found her stretched out on the sidewalk. Eyes gone and face eaten off. The Beast was back.

Clearly there was some madman or wild animal on the loose and everyone put up their guard. But now I think this is when the Beast got really cocky. He realized he could get away with this shit.

The next victims were in their damn house. An elderly couple, John and Beatrice. They lived across the street from me. When I woke up the next morning to sirens, my heart sank. I thought Beatrice’s heart finally gave out on her.

Noooo, the Beast just decided to up his game by ripping out said heart. It was the same thing though- ate the faces and the eyes. It got into the house through the back window, judging by the bloody prints. Kids whispered about how supposedly the prints looked like a humans but clawed. Sightings of The Beast grew in number. A freak that had fangs and glowing eyes, his only desire being to hunt and kill.

Of course my mom immediately kicked in a curfew and kept the house secure. At night I’d hear her wake up and walk around, as if to make sure we were safe.

I believed in the Beast when she saw it too.

I woke up to hear her scream and I ran to the source. My mom was white as a ghost, her hand on her heart as she stared out the now empty window.

“It… it was there. I don’t know what it was, but- fuck, fuck, call the police, call the police right now!”

My mom doesn’t cuss. She’s a classy lady like that. I grabbed the junior baseball bat I used as a kid and called 911. Cops showed up surprisingly fast and mom told them what happened while her eyes still darted to the window on occasion.

She’d gone down because she couldn’t sleep and it was at the window. Its shape was vaguely humanoid but its eyes did in fact glow. That’s when she screamed. It must’ve not expected her to see it as it took off running. And sure enough, when I went into the backyard the next morning, its feet were indeed clawed. I didn’t bother collecting evidence as I’m sure everyone would’ve thought I faked it, but I knew the Beast was real.

Two days later I got kidnapped by my so called ‘friend’.

I was walking home from school when Trent ran up behind me, acting all buddy buddy until he got close. Then I felt a switchblade press against my side. Trent was still smiling, but it was cold, dark.

“Start walking, you fucking queer.”

The biggest ‘well shit’ moment of my life.

I didn’t try to be the hero and get the knife, Trent was bigger than me and I didn’t have a prayer. We walked until we got to his car, where he pushed me into the backseat and he duct-taped my hands and feet together.

He drove us out of town to this abandoned old shed. Two other guys I didn’t know were waiting there, and I saw more knives. I was close to pissing myself while still being neck deep in denial. Surely this had to be a joke though. Just a prank to scare me.

Trent dragged me inside and slammed the door.

It was dark and I couldn’t see a thing. I got whacked in the stomach and the air whooshed out of my lungs.

“You fucking fag. How many times did you touch me when I slept over, huh?” I could hear the sneer in Trent’s voice.

I groaned as I was shoved to my knees. “Never, Trent. You’re not exactly my type,” I said as I struggled against the tape.

I got kicked across the face and I hit the floor. I felt one of my teeth come loose and blood start to pool in my gums.

Trent squatted down next to me. I could barely make out his silhouette in the cracks in the shed.

“Fucking liar. You’re a freak. And now you’re gonna be another victim of the Gosbecks Knoll Beast, old buddy.”

I felt the blade press right beneath my blue eye.

“Hope your mommy doesn’t miss your creepy ass eyes, faggot!”

I wanted to shut my eyes. Hoped that he’d drive the knife right into my brain so I didn’t have to feel it. Instead I felt my eyes stay wide open as the blade glinted, and I suddenly made out Trent and his three goonies…

Yeah. Three goonies. There were only two outside the shed.

Guess the Beast really doesn’t care for copycats.

I heard the scream before the tallest of the figures slammed the other two heads together. When standing straight up he almost reached the ceiling. Trent whipped around and the blade nicked below my eye.

“What the fuck-“

Another whack and Trent was on the ground. I heard him choking and realized I smelled blood.

The figure moved onto me and he hoisted me up to his level. I felt claws tear my shirt. I was certain I’d be dead.

Then I felt the monster pause.

“… Eyes?”

I passed out.

When I came to, it was now dark outside, and we were no longer in the shed. Now we were in a cabin, lit by a lantern.

And I saw the Beast in his entirety.

He looked vaguely human, wearing what looked like a loincloth, had pale skin and black stringy hair that hung down his back. His skin was occasionally broken up by patches of scales, and his fingers looked like a tiny blade stuck out of each. His spine was lined with thin bristles that would rise and fall with each breath.

Trent was hung up in the corner by a hook, awake and filled with terror. I could smell more blood. The Beast examined Trent’s face thoughtfully before his middle finger carved through his cheek.

I shut my eyes tight when I heard Trent scream.

The Beast made almost no sound at all, other than a soft hum as he worked on carving off Trent’s face. When I took a peek, I saw the gleaming white of Trent’s cheekbones.

My eyes shut again.

Finally when the screams went quiet, I heard footsteps approach. Felt his huge presence kneel over me. His hair smelled like pond weeds.

“… Open. Open your eyes.”

I did, although I’m not sure why.

His face was kinda human. Had a strong nose and gaunt features. But it was his eyes that caught me.

They glowed all right. But the left one was yellow, and the right eye was violet.

The Beast inhaled sharply before his hand reached up to my face. I flinched and tilted my head away but he only hushed me as he lightly caressed my cheek. His claws didn’t even break skin.

“… Eyes. They don’t… match.”

I swallowed. “N… neither do yours,” I pointed out.

The Beast grinned, his crooked teeth flecked with blood. “No. No they don’t,” He said, almost if he was trying not to laugh.

I don’t know what possessed me to do this, but I reached up to touch his face too. His skin was oily, it almost reminded me of a fish. “They uh, look good though?” I offered. Play nice with the monster, maybe you can go home.

This comment struck him, he looked shocked. Then he pulled me into the most uncomfortable hug of my life.

“… Only one. Thought I was the only one,” He sobbed, I felt his greasy tears hit the top of my head.

Really not sure of how to handle this, I patted his back, careful to avoid the spines. God knew they were probably poisonous. Thankfully the Beast seemed to appreciate this.

I’m really not sure how I fell asleep with a giant stinky monster practically spooning me, but when I woke up, the police were there. According to them, someone called 911 from my phone and told them where to find me.

Trent’s body was found strung up in the other room with the other two guys. They’d been almost entirely butchered. It was a miracle I was alive, according to the police.

I attended Trent’s funeral. I don’t know why but I did. His sister apologized for all the bullshit he did to me. I saved her the knowledge of the fact he was going to murder me and make it look like the Beast did it.

When I got home late that night I found mussel shells on my windowsill. I took them inside and let them rest on my dresser.

Top of my dresser’s covered with little ‘gifts’ now, from snake skins to smooth rocks to glass beads. I haven’t seen him since that night but sometimes I catch a glimpse of those mismatched eyes, glowing from my backyard.  

[nae-maeum]

Criminal Minds...so...just finished the much anticipated and eagerly awaited first episode and lords wherever do I start?? For a show that has original content to refer back to, they did a damn fine job of utterly screwing up everything. As a huge fan of the original Criminal Minds, goodness me, I couldn’t even get past the first five minutes without needing to pause to take a minute to get past the cringe...not the good cringe either, but the “what are you doing did you even do any research like even an inkling of research how can it be so bad from the start” cringe.

I will say this though, there are two good things the drama has going for itself; the first is Lee Joon Gi because his character makes sense and his acting was on point (ish...for the most part, plus I’ll forgive him because well it’s him) and the OST, because omg that song totally captured the mood of a criminal investigation, the star of that first episode indeed.

Oh, also, the overarching mystery/criminal arc sounds really interesting; I just don’t know if I’ll be watching it when that serial killer comes back on the scene, but the killer’s signature is really cool and could make for an epic re-introduction.

But overall, it completely lacked the elements of a good crime drama; there was no suspense, no thrill, nothing; I felt nothing watching it, it was flat from the beginning to end, not a good sign for the rest of the drama.

Warning: major shit post ahead because I cannot go to bed without ranting about the fatal, fatal flaws in this show that would have otherwise been forgiven had they not occurred every two minutes. A very thorough and detailed rant at that as well. 

Before I rip apart that episode, how about we talk a little bit about the characters. If they were going to be so blatant and try to replicate the original characters, they should have put a concentrated effort into making sure that they achieved the characterization. Overall, not one member of the team showed any “profiling” ability and the lack of explanation and train of thought behind the profiling was annoying as hell; especially considering that their so-called “profile” was literally changing scene to scene and there was no evidence to prove their profile right. On top of that, the chemistry among the team, non-existent, period; their group dynamic was just so awkward and watching them work together was just painful, absolutely painful.

Na Na Hwang, aka “Garcia” and her 30 seconds, waah, let’s just not even start in on her because her character is the one that pisses me off the most; Garcia is much beloved in the original series and either the writers or the actress were unable to capture the essence of what made Garcia “Garcia” - just nope and her lack of presence in the episode was just annoying too, great, you’ve got a genius hacker at your service but you don’t use her at all, yup, much sense.

Kang Ki Hyung, aka “Hotch” - first of all, what was with that random flashback to the bombing while he was at the hospital? Did anyone notice a trigger that my sister and I didn’t? The purpose of that flashback at that point was...? Also, the fact that he, like Hotch, has a son and, well, a wife, makes me wonder if they’ll be following Hotch’s story-line in the original series and if so, there had better be more scenes with the son delving more into their, how do i say it...protocol? (I don’t want to give any spoilers) The least he could do was have chemistry with his family, but wow, it was even more awkward than the team dynamic; Hotch was always able to figure out or glean the situation at hand, it’s a occupational hazard, so Ki Hyung’s inability to even profile his wife was just lame.

Ha Sun Woo - No real complaint I guess...other than her profiling of Kim Hyun Joon was so forced and glaringly lacking, but seeing the profiling that followed, I’d have to say it was her best attempt. Also, I just adore how she went after Ma Hyun Tae herself, bravo. 

Yoo Min Young, aka “JJ” - hmm, didn’t see that hint of motherly affection and JJ’s famous empathy at all and, as I will talk about later, has absolutely 0 profiling skills apparently; forget profiling skills, 0 detective skills.

Lee Han, aka “Reid” - Ah, Lee Han...I’m even more critical because Reid is by far my favorite character and I just adore him so and wow Lee Han you were an epic fail. For someone with an IQ of 187 and a doctorate in medicine and psychology, you sure played the part of stupid amazingly well. Again, more on this later, because wow, IQ 187...I’m just at a loss for words.

Again, the team dynamic, awkward, awkward, awkward, and throughout the episode they showed their utter incapability of being profilers, especially before Kan Ki Hyung returned. I wonder if the writers even watched the original series, even a few episodes would have been enough because their depiction of characters and their jobs was just so poorly done; was it too much to even ask that they get consultation from actual psychologists or profilers too? The show just showed a blatant disregard to the profession and just had an overall air of laziness to it.

Now, let’s get into plot points - I can forgive bad acting so long as the plot is good, but here we have a prime specimen of an instance where not only is there bad acting, but a flawed and messy plot.

The bombing incident at the start - Mr. IQ 187, let me tell you a little something about bombs, no bomber makes it simple to disable their bomb so multiple lines are only to be expected and furthermore, the bomb squad is full of highly trained specialists who, if there is a known prototype, have more likely than not actually worked to learn to dismantle it because, after all, it is in very rare instances you’ll find a bomber willing to guide you through a step by step process of how to stop their bomb from detonating; if only criminals were so nice.  Also, what was the rationale behind figuring out where his burn came from and, honestly, standing ovation Ki Hyung, you figured out the bomber was lying to you on how to dismantle his bomb, obviously the non-effect cutting the white line had wasn’t a dead giveaway. And lastly, what was the Commissioner or whoever the guy in the official looking uniform was, doing at the scene and why have a department specialized in understanding criminals if you’re not going to listen to them? This whole incident was the gateway to giving Hyun Joon his tragic backstory and prejudice against profilers, but it was sloppily done and just flaw after flaw.

The profiling method - there is no geographical analysis, no victim analysis and the search for a commonality was meh. How can you profile a suspect if you don’t analyze the bigger picture, try to find out the motives or the psyche? Literally, just watching one episode of the original show would have provided the writers with a comprehensive overview of the logic and method that is utilized to profile. There is a thorough lack of connection between the evidence and the profile and at no point did the profile even match the actual killer, which just makes the whole point of the drama revolving around a group of profilers redundant.

Mr. IQ of 187, do you really need to question if the killer is guilty? I would think a doctorate in psychology would more than equip you with the tools to help understand the why behind the actions of the killer. Also, wow, DID, and your thought process behind that was? If this was the 5th murder and there was no sign of DID previously, STOP JUST SHOVING ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING INTO YOUR PROFILE! LOGIC PLEASE! 

Also, how did Ki Hyung figure out there was a missing victim that was overlooked? The lack of explanation about anything at all was just a piss-off, half the time new information is revealed at a later time (like the sexual assault, my sister and I had spent a good few minutes trying to understand why Lee Han would mention the clothes on the victim when there was no obvious purpose behind the statement), which only adds to the confusion when trying to comprehend the logic and it only reinforced to me the idea that the writers were lazy and just half-assed their script.

And that profile, bravo, honestly just wow Ki Hyung. You figured out the suspect’s height and body shape out of thin air all miraculous like; you’ve no image of the suspect, no footprint to estimate the height from, you know nothing about how the suspect actually disposes his victim’s to guess his build, but I guess you don’t need that because you’re psychic. If only there were people like you who existed in the real world, imagine all the killers who would be caught if we had your skills. Also, does Ki Hyung realize the disjoint between having a job where the suspect works alone to possibly being a salesman? I didn’t realize salesmen worked alone. At what point in their investigation did the team glean that the suspect had paranoia; nothing in his behavior, victimology, anything at all point to this trait. Also, amazing to see that he goes from having family, but ignoring them to having a trauma related to his dead parents, which is it Ki Hyung, he can’t have both. Their profile on the suspect lacked any substantial explanation about the suspect’s behaviour and lacked any clear sense of direction on how to narrow down their suspect list, it’s amazing they were able to narrow it down to one; again, sheer brilliance. 

Also, note to the writers, once an arsonist always an arsonist. Don’t just spew theories for the sake of wanting to sound smart; if the suspect might have committed arson in the past, there would be signs of fire being involved because arsonists derive pleasure from the flames and that urge/instinct does not just disappear. Psychopaths also usually have a history of abusing and mutilating animals in their youth, petty crime and things like car theft make not a killer. 

For a smart killer, he sure chose the most opportune time of striking Na Young just as she was answering her phone. Also, his paranoia was most evident when he oh so easily went down in response to the “Oops I’m sorry I bumped your car” call. If he were paranoid he’d either let it go or ask to leave your contact info on the car, not go down personally, but hey, accuracy of profiles obviously don’t matter in this drama, so long as they catch their bad guy.

And now we come to my absolute favorite part; Mr. IQ of 187 strikes again with his oh so insightful comment of “But this doesn’t look like the room of a murderer!” What were you expecting? Weapons everywhere? Blood stains abound? His victim wrapped up for you neatly in the corner? Really? Really? Good to know a doctorate imparts such wisdom, glad I’ve decided not to pursue a PhD, doesn’t seem to be worth much. This insightful exclamation was then following by his ability to analyze the suspect through his Baduk board, wow. And yes, Min Young, the smart killer who’s evaded capture for 5 murders just neatly and nicely left you his password on a sticky note by his computer; it really is that simple. Who’d have thought you had a tech genius on your side in the form of Na Hwang; someone who should be able to easily help you gain access to the computer? Oh look writers, your poor planning is showing.

To cap of this disaster of an episode, a sudden interest in Ki Hyung is expressed by the victim oh so randomly and 100 to 1, the mastermind is the parole officer. At the very least writers, if anything else, you could build the suspense up better, at least have an itch to know the end of this case be a going factor for you, but nope. There was absolutely no thrill, no suspense, no gasp worthy moments in this episode and I think this will be a re-occurring theme throughout the 20 episodes. Oh what fun to look forward to. 

[aikainkauna]

Wait, what? Periods=badfic, now?

So apparently there’s a bit in Fifty Shades where he pulls out her tampon to fuck her, and *that’s* supposed to be an example of the heights of bad writing the work descends into? As in, leaving the literary merits of ELJ’s writing aside, the tampon itself was being made into the crux of the argument, and there are so many problems there that make me grit my cranky old sex-positive feminist teeth.

So. Basically. Are you sure this is still within the realms of “that’s just bad writing”, and whether or not it’s just slid into the good old “stupid woman, she doesn’t know menstrual blood is GROSS!” kind of whining?

Because I have written Jaffar doing something akin to that to Yassamin. He has had menstrual sex with her in at least two fics I can remember, both of which involve mentions of blood and pain, and the means through which they get around it to have sex.

So that makes me a badfic writer, then?

Look. If you think menstruation is gross--and especially if you menstruate yourself--you need to take a long hard look at the hate that’s being imposed onto your mind and onto your body (and all bodies with uteruses) through social conventions like these, and need to jettison that shit stat. 

I had some batshit kids fling similar arguments at me ten or so years ago, all surrounding this idea of how “gross” I was for not understanding that saying a NC-17 porn fic got me off was somehow disgusting. Because, to them, I just did not understand that ladies aren’t supposed to talk about sex, (even in the context of what was literally pornography, as in, material made to get someone off). As opposed to me just being fucking honest about sexuality, and often deliberately so because of my aversion to prudishness, which is never not misogynistic, and never not a product of very specific Victorian-Christian cultural ideas. But no! Apparently ladies should not mention they wank, even when they’re wanking, to material other ladies have written for wanking purposes! How much more hypocritical can you get?

So, ELJ’s IQ aside (which is not my point), this accusation of “that poor stupid girl doesn’t realise something is gross!” always combines both the ideas of a) female bodies being icky, especially when it comes to their reproductive organs and sex (when they could just as well be revered as the source of all life and of the greatest pleasure one’s body can ever experience upon this earth, which happens to be my unabashed Pagan view) and b) the good old “women have no agency” thing fandom (and our culture, liberal or conservative) always loves to apply to its criticism of everything women ever do.

Note how this automatic, default idea of “doesn’t she understand what she’s doing?!?” applies to darkfic antis, kinkhaming antis, anti-shaving antis, biphobes/femmephobes who think lipstick queer women just try to pleasure guys, all kinds of antis who are, despite trying to use feminist language, brainwashed into the same old “women have no agency and are doing everything for the guys” POV. (And here I thought I was whacking off to a villain ravishing a heroine because I preferred his looks and his characterisation to the heteronormative beefy hero, my hand feeling wonderful on my pussy because it was super sensitive now that I’d shaved it and because the heroine’s long hair, red lipstick and ample curves appealed to my sexual orientation towards feminine characteristics! I’m glad you informed me that by doing this in the privacy of my bedroom, I’m flinging women and children into the hands of rapists and paedophiles, and am probably somehow stroking not my own bits but the bits of a creepy old man somewhere! Right. I’m so sorry. I’ll stop having pleasure and suffocate my sexuality immediately and admire the clean-cut beefy hero *chastely* from afar as I should, my muff reeking of great justice!)

TL;DR Whenever you apply the argument “bitch doesn’t know what she’s doing” without firm evidence from said bitch, you’re removing agency from that bitch.

One of the reasons I’ve written menstrual sex a couple of times has been exactly because it’s a normal (if annoying) part of life for anyone born with a female body, and the more people read about in a context where it’s handled in a neutral way that portrays it as the normal part of life it is, the better. It’s something everyone of fertile age in a long-term, sexually active relationship will have to address at some point in relation to her sexual life. So I write about it the same way I write about, say, Laura noticing how her having grown breasts completely changes the way people respond to her, or how Yassamin’s ashamed of her big Caesarean scar and slightly sagging belly after she’s had kids, or, indeed, the trouble a 50+ guy might have with maintaining erections.

Also note here that I’m not one of the extreme “but it’s all natural and BEAUTIFUL and wonderful and also we should all paint with our menstrual blood and also if you have cramps it’s just internalised misogyny!1!” hippie squad. *I have endometriosis.* I know what debilitating pain and blood loss are all about; I’ve repeatedly gone into pain shock and lost consciousness and been hospitalised for my contractions, when painkillers have been inadequate or administered too late. And I know very well how--even if I might be at my horniest and my most supermega-orgasmiest at that time of the month--you might really not want to bother with sex then, because of all the mess and pain it will entail. (Also, PMS rage is fuelling this very post this very moment. But sometimes that’s a good thing.) So I completely, utterly agree that periods are, on the whole, not a lot of fun, and whoever invented them should be taken out to the street and shot.

BUT. And this is a big but: this is why I, deliberately, write alternative universes in which things are different, because of how cathartic and how healing that can be. My writing serves a double healing purpose: it’s both active sex-positive feminist work (you could argue that anything that helps women get off is feminist as such), and it also goes out there to comfort the readers where it hurts the most. I write about Jaffar and Yassamin developing a spell to seal her cervix during sex--for both contraception, and to stop a bloodbath, if they want to have sex during her period. I’ve written him comforting her in her pains and being understanding about them; I’ve written him medicating her violent bouts of PMS depression and rage with everything from opium to hard BDSM fucking and cuddles.

But most of all, I write stories in which both the ideas of pollution/shame, and the problems of pain and blood loss are addressed, and *fixed.* I write stories in which the idea of grossness is smashed, and I write stories in which adequate pain relief is administered and the sufferer isn’t belittled for her pains. Because in a world with a shitton of such shaming and misunderstanding of the potential pain going on, and where gynaecology is poorly understood and under-funded to a shocking extent and where its methods involve absolutely horrid hormone treatments and slashing and cutting and burning? Writing about adequate treatments and understandings and compassion for such is *vitally* necessary to a) work against that shame, to lessen it, and to normalise something that’s unnecessarily shamed (as if the pain wasn’t bad enough!) and b) to provide long-overdue hardcore comfort in the absence of said spells and near-nonexistence of guys who Get It.

But, overall, my main point is, *grossness is in the eye of the beholder.* If you apply to this (or anything similar) the good old rule of thumb of “well, does it hurt anyone?” or even “are they in public and frightening the horses/ruining someone’s appetite?”, and the firm answer is “no,” it’s nothing to be worried about. The good old “well, do guys worry about this?” is also worth applying here, just as it is in all aspects of life. (Women bash badfic writers for menstrual sex because it’s “gross.” Guys run sites like Rotten.com and exploit toilet kinks for $$$ with niche porn sites. You know. Bit of a discrepancy there.)

Anyway. Rant over. But outdated, prudish, female-body-bashing ideas of what’s gross=/=badfic.

[mlpsimta]

The Nintendo Wii Mini

Just one month ago I purchased my very first Nintendo home console a Wii Mini. When it comes to Nintendo consoles I don’t have any experience at all with them. I own a 3DS since the end of August which is a brilliant handheld system (that I should cover in the future), but not a full blown home console. Nope I don’t (and had never own) even have a NES, SNES or an N64. Mainly because Nintendo was the only gaming company that flown under my radar completely as a child. So I was really excited when I found a used Wii Mini at my local game store and I just couldn’t wait to get my hands on my very first N home console!

Eevee used Helping Hand! The Wii Mini’s FPS has increased!

So I booted up and no picture. I thought OK maybe I just plugged the component cables into the HDMI converter in a wrong way. After I confirmed that I’m indeed not colour-blind and plugged in everything in the right order I ventured into the depth of Google to figure out what was wrong with my system. I could hear the menu tone and even felt my controller vibrating so my Wii Mini couldn’t be defected. A few clicks later I found my answer for the lack of video output. As it turns out the Wii Mini can’t use component cables! So if I wish to play with my console I have to fall back to use composite cables. I was a little frustrated at that point. How a system released in 2012 couldn’t handle component output?! If you don’t understand why that is a problem basically with composite (5 plugs) you can get a much better and clearer video signal than with component (3 plugs), even the PlayStation 2 a console which is by the way older than the Wii can handle it. Luckily I own an AV2HDMI Mini converter so after changing out the video cable and converter I finally was able to see something on my monitor.

See?! I’m not a Sony fanboy! I have a Nintendo console too!

Obviously it wasn’t a good first impression from the little device. It’s never good if the first thing after booting up something you don’t see anything. Now maybe I’m asking too much from Nintendo but I was genuinely surprised that I can’t use component cables. Mainly because the normal Wii was capable to pull out such a trick like that. Anyways I knew that I’m going to lack some features with the Wii Mini, like the lack of internet connection (which is absurd too, but I don’t really care about net) and no SD card support but I just can’t understand Nintendo sometimes (most of the times). According to them the Wii Mini is a cheaper alternative than the original Wii but that shouldn’t be the excuse to sacrifice image quality. No internet and SD support? Fine... You don’t want your console to get hacked. Although if you want to avoid hacking provide a better service than the hackers. Also looking up the prices back when the Mini came out it was only a couple of bucks cheaper. So who at Nintendo thought that the Mini is a good idea? It literally makes no sense.

OK. Enough rambling! What does the Wii Mini can offer you? Well in sort you can play Wii games on it and that’s all. If you wish to use it for as a cheap way to play Wii games (I wouldn’t recommend it) than you are good to go but bear in mind that is the only thing that the device is capable of, and if you wish to hack it to increase its IQ and show it what a present day (or 2010) device can and should do than you are shit out of luck my friend. Now I’m not saying that you should hack or mod anything that uses electricity and you should always support the developers by purchasing their games. All I’m saying is that if you wish to do it on this device than you are going to have a bad time (or a nice challenge). In summary; no internet, no dvd player support the only thing you can do on the system literally is playing Wii game on it.

The starting library, still need to buy a couple more games....

When it comes to games the Wii Mini can handle all of the Wii titles relatively well, just bare in mind that with component cables the picture quality will be a little washed up. Basically the image quality looks like a moving water painting. So I would highly recommend purchasing a basic component to SCART converter that will help a bit. Oh also if you have an old tube TV that would be the best option to hook up your console to. Ok enough image quality back to games... The titles that I currently own are running fine and it’s really interesting to use motion controls too. Currently I own Twilight Princess, Cod MW/WAW/MW3 and other games that I wish to cover in the near future, but this time I only wish to speak about the console itself. I have never really used motion controls in the past so I was a little hesitant first how it will turn out, but I was pleasantly surprised. It took me a few minutes to get used to it and after few hours when I was completely confident and stopped pressing the wrong buttons and learnt how wildly I have to swing the Wii Mote or Nunchuck. Also using the two controllers are really good and they fairly comfortable to hold not to mention that you don’t have to hold your hands close to each other like with any usual controllers. So most of the times I’m just hanging my hands down by my sides while playing (well at least when I don’t have to point at the screen) and it is just sooo comfortable and I really enjoy it!

Gimmicky? Yes. Fun? Hell yeah!

So far I’ve finished Modern Warfare, World at War and I’m halfway through MW3 and Twilight Princess. Using the Wii Motes for aiming in cod is hard at first and it is something that I still not really used to it but it is a really interesting way for playing an FPS game and it gives a good twist to it that I like. Maybe I shoot bullets all over the place not hitting anyone at all but man I like it! Maybe it’s because I have completely missed this motion control nonsense so it’s still new to me but I really want to see this concept not to die. Especially that Sony already has it so maybe if they would do something about it that would be nice. Not to mention if someone who hasn’t played a game before than motion controls is a great and simple way to teach them how to play. Speaking of which!

Also I got my hands on a normal Wii that is protected by Sylveon!

The biggest reason I love this little machine is that it was capable of doing something that I have failed countless times. Mainly introducing gaming to my family members and other friends who are normally trying to stay away from gaming as far as possible. My father really got into Mario Kart! Since I showed him each day he request to play a couple of tracks which is insane because I showed him games before that he would like but never got into them, so to see that he is the one wanting to play is an absolute joy! Other than my dad’s liking of Mario Kart Wii my mom and sister has an interest in Wii Sports and Just Dance 2014. They haven’t really got hooked into them but if I see them bored and I suggest playing a few rounds of bowling or dancing they don’t hesitate to say yes.

Over all the Wii Mini is maybe not the best device (and as of writing this I already got a normal first model Wii) but if you find one at a yard sale and there’s absolute no way for you to buy a normal one, go for it! Playing games with motion controls as I have already stated in this mess of a review a dozens of times is really fun and well made also if you are trying to introduce gaming to someone you care about than a Wii is an excellent system! I often like to give shit to Nintendo when they deserve it, but man when they do it right they do it an outstanding performance. So now that I own some consoles from the Big N and played some of their games I have to say: I’ve got some catching up to do and play some games that I missed completely.

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Obligatory question so that you can comment under the post: What is your favorite game on the wii that I should buy and do you like the system too?