#you don’t NEED to draw daily but you should be consistent and I’m failing at that

[no1ryomafan]

The toxic thought to drop art completely and delete my art blog that I barley use to begin with and only created as means so my art is easier to find/organize even if I draw for the nichest fandoms possible but know people like my art and I shouldn’t be so discouraged but I’m in a state where there’s a million fucking things bothering me and I’ve been drawing less for no reason cause I have the TIME just no energy or motivation.

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - when you’re feeling sensitive

This work, 敏感时刻, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it

The original work is split into two parts but angst isn’t good for digestion so I merged them (¯▿¯)

[ VICTOR ]

It isn’t the first time you’ve seen such things.

Ever since your relationship with Victor was disclosed to the public, negative comments on the Internet became a staple to your daily life.

They were all in unison, stating that you weren’t good enough for Victor. 

Victor - the young and promising CEO of Loveland Financial Group, the ideal man for innumerable women.

But he chose to be with a girl like you.

You - a producer from a small, unknown company. 

Because of you, the dreams of countless women were shattered.

Although Victor has already been doing what he can, such as dedicating a small team to control the harsh comments levelled against you, it’s natural that you’d feel stung by such comments. 

Am I really not suitable for Victor?

Why is Victor even with a girl like you?

“I’m back.”

Victor’s voice disrupts your train of thought.

You shake the lingering thoughts out of your head, then plaster a smile on your face to greet him.

“Welcome home.”

However, the moment your eyes flit to Victor’s shirt, your smile freezes in place.

There’s an obvious lipstick mark on it.

It’d be a lie to say that you aren’t upset.

Victor notices the slight change in your expression, immediately taking a step closer to you.

“What’s wrong?”

You push Victor’s outstretched hand away, then brush past him. 

“Nothing. I’m going over to Kiki’s house for a couple of days.”

Perhaps what they said wasn’t wrong, and you were not worthy to be with him.

Perhaps you never should have fallen for him.

-

It’s rare for you to look this dispirited. Immediately sensing that you’re out of sorts, he chases after you, embracing you in his arms.

“What’s wrong? Did things not go smoothly at work?”

He pauses before adding, “If it’s because of comments on the Internet, the legal team in LFG will handle them.

You shake your head, wriggling out of his grip weakly. “Those things are fine.”

Victor loosens his grip, but maintains his posture of hugging you, not letting you go completely.

“You didn’t get the limited-edition lipstick you wanted?”

The moment he brings up the word ‘lipstick’, the floodgates open.

“Let go of me! Since I’m not the only one who leaves lipstick marks on you, go look for other women!”

Victor knits his brows in response to the sudden accusation. “What are you talking about?”

You bite your lip, pointing at the mark on his shirt.

He lowers his head, eyes following your finger. When he releases a sigh, your heart grows several degrees colder. “So it’s because of this?”

Victor retrieves his phone from his pocket, then taps on a video in his photo gallery, showing it to you:

“Dummy, your lipstick got onto my shirt.”

“I did it on purpose! Victor, I want to tell the entire world that you’re my man, so you’re not allowed to wash it off!”

It’s a video of the last time you got drunk. The HD camera captured the scene clearly - the exact same shirt, the exact same location, the exact same lip mark.

He pokes your cheek.

“A certain someone forgot that she got her lipstick on me. And now she’s accusing me of being unfaithful?”

“I was wrong,” you mutter softly.

He sighs, taking you into his arms again. “Are you still leaving?”

You sniff, burying your head into his chest.

“I’m not leaving. Victor, I’m not leaving in this lifetime.”

[ GAVIN ]

It isn’t the first time you’ve seen the “belle of the police station”.

You always seem to bump into her whenever you’re on dates with Gavin.

Every single time she sees the two of you, she’d wear a surprised expression, as though it’s the first time such a “coincidence” has happened.

You never really suspected that there was anything going on between the both of them. 

But Gavin has been gone for far too long on this mission. You haven’t seen him in a month, and haven’t received any calls from him.

Gripping your phone, you’re filled with worry, anxiety, and fear. You have a bad feeling about this whole situation, but decide to try calling him one more time.

Unexpectedly, Gavin picks up.

“Gavin! How are you doing?”

 “I’m now...”

“Gav! I’m here!”

A woman’s shrill voice can be distinctly heard at the other end of the line, and you find yourself no longer registering what Gavin is saying.

It’s the belle of the police station.

And everything clicks. 

You understand why Gavin hasn’t contacted you even after such a long time.

“Gav~ Come over and play!”

“It’s all right, Gavin. You’re busy.” 

You hang up.

A wave of disappointment overwhelms you, and you huddle into a ball before letting the floodgates open.

It’s really upsetting. It’s really, really upsetting.

You never expected Gavin to do such a thing.

You never expected that he would ever leave you.

You thought loving a person meant loving them for an entire lifetime.

But you forgot that life consists of countless variables.

Perhaps you and Gavin were never meant to walk down the same path.

Perhaps the both of you were simply meant to meet for a moment, love for an instant, then continue down separate paths.

-

Gavin stands in the STF command room, his brows furrowed as he stares at the phone, the officer in front of him silent.

Eli looks at the belle of the police station sternly. “Xiao Liu, what’s the meaning of this? Didn’t you know the Commander was in a call with his wife?”

Xiao Lu shrugs. “Sis-in-law isn’t so petty, right? If it were me, I would definitely not keep Gavin on such a tight leash.”

"Shut up.”

It’s rare for Gavin to exude the dignified air of a Commander in front of his subordinates.

“Intern officer Xiao Liu. Given your ranking, it’s inappropriate to address me by name.” While speaking, he rifles through a stack of papers on the table, retrieving a particular report.

Without a moment of hesitation, he writes a “fail” on her assessment results. Gavin slams the completed report on the table, glowering at her.

“Disrespecting your superior, slow-moving, not heeding orders - I can come to a conclusion right now. You’re not suited to be a part of STF. Return to where you came from.”

With tears in her eyes, Xiao Lu strides out of STF.

When Gavin returns home, his girl behaves the same way as always whenever she feels hurt - cocooning herself in blankets, as though she doesn’t have a sense of security at all. Seeing you like this, Gavin feels a tightening in his chest.

He gently peels open your protective cover.

“Hey, I’m back.”

As expected, your eyes are red and swollen.

You shove him away violently, reminiscent of an injured animal - weak, yet stubborn.

Gavin draws you into his arms unyieldingly, not giving you a chance to escape. Distressed, he plants feather-like kisses on your swollen eyes.

“I did not.”

These three words are simple and plain, but sufficient to convince.

You understand what he means, but you can’t help being unreasonable. “She’s always around. This isn’t the first time.”

“I’ve never cared about her whereabouts. If she didn’t participate in this mission as an intern, I wouldn’t even remember what she looks like.”

Gavin is honest, and he states undebatable truths.

You let out a “hmph.”

“She even called you ‘Gav’!”

“I told her to return to where she came from.” Gavin holds you even more tightly, lowering his head to the crook of your neck so he can drink in his favourite scent.

"You’re being so fierce towards me even though we’ve been apart for so long. Should I do something to make up for it?”

[ LUCIEN ]

You wonder if you should just run away right now.

Standing at the door of Lucien’s office, you watch as a girl leans incredibly close to him.

From this angle, there’s virtually no difference from them kissing.

Words spill from the girl’s parted lips.

“Lulu, you like me too, don’t you?” 

So the pet name wasn’t exclusively used by you.

When did Lucien start losing interest in you?

It makes sense though. You can’t match up to anyone in Lucien’s Research Centre. Everyone here is a scientist who has high intellect and stellar academic qualifications. 

And you? You’re just a producer from a small company.

It’s an almost laughable notion that Lucien would like you.

“Lulu, be with me, okay?”

That girl’s voice carries with it the shyness of one who is confessing her love for the first time. You watch as Lucien stands up from his chair, preparing to respond.

“You’re a good woman.”

“Lulu, I just knew you’d agree!”

You can’t bear to listen for even a second longer.

And you start regretting picking up the phone call.

Maybe if you weren’t so curious, you wouldn’t have to witness this, and you could pretend that nothing happened today,

But you came, and you saw what happened.

You can’t tell yourself that nothing did.

Perhaps you aren’t the best partner for Lucien.

Perhaps you aren’t his only butterfly.

-

Eyes wet with tears, you can barely make out the figures of Lucien or the girl through your blurry vision.

You don’t dare to stay behind and listen to Lucien’s answer, afraid to hear an agreement from his lips. But your legs seem to be filled with lead, forcing you to fully appreciate the scene as it unfolds before you.

Lucien takes a step back to put some distance between himself and the girl. His voice is even more firm than usual.

“You’re a very good woman, but it doesn’t mean that I’ve agreed, nor does it mean that I like you.”

You stop breathing.

“First, I need to correct the way you address me. Given your position, you should be calling me ‘Professor Lucien’.” His clear voice carries with it irrefutable authority.

“Also, I already have a family, and I love my wife very much.” Lucien pauses, a look of longing surfacing on his face. “Just like how the painter only has eyes for the butterfly, she is the only colour in my eyes.

He vaguely notices that the girl before him is tearing up. “To me, you’re no different from the other students. Now, please leave my office.”

He walks to the door and pulls it open. Unable to hide in time, he spots you. Although he’s mildly stunned, he quickly recovers, voice gentle.

“Why are you here?”

“I received a call.”

Considering the tacit understanding between the both of you, Lucien guesses what happened. He directs a stern gaze towards the student in the room, and speaks mercilessly. “Maybe I should have a discussion with the Dean regarding whether a particular student should be allowed to stay.”

He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. Leading you into the office, he lets you sit on his chair, then faces the student.

“Get out of my sight immediately.”

[ KIRO ]

How did things become like this? 

You’re lost in thought, staring at the screen which displays a picture of Kiro at a celebrity dance party.

The funny thing is, the comments left are unanimously supportive.

“A talented man and a beautiful woman - they’re just so compatible!”

What about you? What can you do as Kiro’s girlfriend?

Returning to your own social media page, you’re met with unanimous scathing, humiliating remarks.

Some assert that you snagged Kiro simply because of luck.

Some commented that your subpar looks don’t make you a good match for Kiro.

A small group of fans support your relationship with him.

To be honest, these things didn’t bother you. What you cared about was Kiro.

As long as he loves you, nothing else matters.

But now, it seems like things are going the way you expected them to.

Kiro told you that he was out of the country to film for a movie. Yet, he has been photographed at a celebrity dance party, sparking rumours as a result.

Marketing immediately used this chance to pair the two celebrities together, completely disregarding the existence of you, Kiro’s girlfriend. 

It makes sense though. As a normal citizen, what kind of hot news can you stir?

Why should you be a party to this mismatched love?

Perhaps he’s suited for someone better.

Perhaps being with him is simply an incredibly beautiful dream.

There will inevitably come a day when one has to wake up from a dream.

It’s time for you to wake up.

-

The television is off, and your electronic devices are placed as far away from you as possible. The door to the house is locked, and it’s even bolted with an anti-theft chain that you’ve never used before. All the photo frames featuring the two of you are placed face-down.

You don’t want to hear about anything related to Kiro. All you want is to live in a tiny, empty world belonging only to you.

After calling you for the eighth time only to be notified that your phone has been turned off, Kiro has a bad feeling in his gut.

Savin thrusts a laptop into Kiro’s lap. “Look at what’s trending on the Internet.”

Puzzled, Kiro stares at the screen. The more he scrolls through the pages, the more his eyes darken, and his golden hair faintly turns a shade paler.

“Savin, arrange for a press conference immediately!” Right now!” Kiro whips out his phone, calling you once more. “Miss Chips, please pick up.”

“I’m sorry, the person you are calling is currently unavailable...” The cold, mechanical female voice drones on.

Kiro takes out his notebook laptop, checking the surveillance feed of the house. He sees that you’re seated on the bed, staring out the windows in a trance. Fingers flying across the keyboard, he hacks into the control system, connecting his webcam to the television.

In an instant, his frantic face appears on the television screen.

The sudden lighting up of the television gives you a fright. Seeing Kiro’s face, you feel the burning sensation in your eyes returning.

Miss Chips, don’t believe the fake information on the Internet. I...”

“Kiro, the press conference is ready!”

Savin’s work efficiency is as stellar as always.

“I’ll have to trouble you to hold this laptop.” He turns towards the screen again. “Miss Chips, watch this. Don’t leave, and don’t be upset. I’ll be back soon”

-

“Aside from collaboration for work purposes, I have absolutely no personal relations with her. As for the false rumours on the Internet, my legal team will officially take action, and will also protect my fiancé’s reputation.”

Fiancé? He hasn’t even proposed.

“Also, in front of everyone on the Internet, I wish to propose to my Miss Chips.” Kiro walks in front of the press conference table, taking out a ring he has prepared since a long time ago.

He kneels down on one knee in front of the laptop Savin is holding.

“Miss Chips, will you marry me?”

-

[Cheri’s intrusive thought: I’m imagining how everyone at the press conference would be seeing this LOL]

[ SHAW ]

Unsurprisingly, Shaw’s in Live House.

He hasn’t contacted you for a whole week.

So you’ve been camping in Live House for a week.

It’s been an interesting few days, and you’ve noticed the same girl appearing at his side.

She’s very beautiful, and exudes a certain maturity. As compared to her, you’re clearly inferior.

So why did Shaw pick you instead of her?

Or rather - were you simply a second choice, and will soon be replaced since the true owner of his heart has returned?

The thoughts in your heart spiral into increasingly dangerous waters. 

But the more you think about it, the more you find it plausible.

Shaw seems different when he’s interacting with her. He’s more careful with his tongue, and tends to have a serious expression on his face.

Perhaps he doesn’t show that side of him to just anyone - not even you.

Could this be a sign that he doesn’t love you as much as you think he does?

You’ve gone through a heartbreaking love before, but didn’t expect to experience it again.

Perhaps a sweet romance is unattainable for you.

Perhaps some people have never belonged to you.

-

With a heavy heart, you plan to leave Live House, not wanting to face a break up. Doing it over the phone would be better - he wouldn’t know whether or not you’re crying.

You definitely have to be the one to initiate the breakup. Even if it upsets you, you have to retain your final shred of dignity.

Head lowered as you walk through the entranceway, you bump into Adam, who is just about to enter. Losing your balance, you support yourself on the door frame.

“Eh? Sister? Are you looking for Shaw?” Shock is written all over Adam’s face. “Shaw’s been busy lately.”

You cast a glance inside, but you can no longer see the Shaw nor the woman.

“Mm, I know.”

They probably went into the room. The rehearsal room that you rarely visit...

Completely oblivious to how strange your behaviour is, Adam leads you over to the rehearsal room enthusiastically.

You pause in your steps, keeping your voice calm. “Is it really appropriate for me to enter? Won’t I be disturbing them?

Adam laughs. “No way. Sister, you can just sit at the side and watch without saying anything. They don’t get disturbed easily.”

“I’d better not. I should go.” You decide to retreat, not wanting to hear their sweet nothings, afraid to see how meticulous Shaw is with that woman.

Just as you turn, the door opens.

Shaw stands at the entranceway. “What are you doing here?”

That’s right - you shouldn’t have come.

“I’m off.”

You direct this at Adam, not even giving Shaw a glance.

The woman seems impatient, rushing him to return. “Shaw, why aren’t you back yet?”

“Forget it, you should continue with what you were doing.”

Despite what you just said, Shaw pulls you into the rehearsal room.

Initially expecting that you’d be catching them in a romantic rendezvous, you’re instead met by a table filled with messy clumps of clay.

You stare at the somewhat cylindrical shaped object on the table.

“...this is?”

Before Shaw speaks, the woman pipes up. “Are you Shaw’s girlfriend? I’m the teacher in charge of Ceramic Art Design in Loveland University, and also the wife of his teacher.”

The female teacher turns to Shaw. “He promised that if I were to teach him pottery, he’d not be late for school, or leave early.”

The truth is out.

Your cheeks redden, and you hastily greet her. Then, you sneak a peek at Shaw.

“Why did you bring her here!? I worked so hard to hide for a week, and now it’s all ruined!” He balls his hands into fists and looks like he’s about to beat Adam into a pulp.

“Calm down. Isn’t it good enough for Sister to know that you’re preparing a gift for her?” Adam chuckles.

Shaw’s eyes flit to yours, then he averts them. “Tch, it’s none of your business!?”

A laugh escapes you. 

He really isn’t cute at all.

--

More translated and original works: here

–

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author

[freshthoughts2020]

CARRIED BY YOUR WORKS

CARRIED BY YOUR WORKS

I.  BUILD A CATALOG

Creating a lasting legacy should be at the top of everyone’s mind. No matter the field you are in, consistency and persistency will always help you reach your goal. The key to keeping your work is alive is by building a catalog.

If you do music, you can’t drop one song a year and expect to be Drake. (Don’t tell yourself the quality over quantity lie, something I touched on in a previous article, go find it beloved). 

You have to add to your repertoire daily and give people a sort of never ending stream of your works. Let’s take a look at a few examples

II. PASTOR STEPHEN DARBY

Pastor Stephen Darby was a pastor out of Louisville, KY, who gained a lot of traction online for his prophetic and convicting messages. Truly his messages are life changing, they deeply pierces the soul. Unfortunately Pastor Darby, suddenly passed away and just like that there weren’t any new messages to look forward to, no new spiritual food to feast on.

However, Pastor Darby has so many videos already put up online, it’s almost as if he didn’t go anywhere, there is always a video to watch and his videos are so deep, you can rewatch the same videos and still receive something new from it. 

Pastor Darby had the foresight to record and build up his works, now when a person discovers him, they may be upset that he died but they can always feel connected to him and his ministry because he did what he was supposed to do and built a catalog.

III. MY ARTWORK

The art game is a whole different beast. Playing this game takes time, effort, and a bit of money. Where people fail is at the time and effort, just like how making one song a year gets you nowhere so does making one piece a year or very seldom making pieces. Being inconsistent is absolute poison to your art career. 

However, let’s explore how did the opposite of that.

A. BACK IN THE RHYTHM

Believe it or not, during my undergraduate years at UAPB (wooooooo) I did not spend much time drawing. Matter fact the only time I remember drawing is my freshmen year and the time I’m going to tell you about now.

In my senior year, I had to do summer school to finish my last semester timely, I refused to come back for the fall, I wanted out of there!!

To keep myself occupied during those dog days of the summer I started back sketching in my mini sketchbook. I rebranded my art page from (JHarryartcorner) to (the__corner) and I started uploaded sketches frequently, finding myself back in love with drawing.

B. 2016

2016, was the year I put the battery in my pack not to let up. It was the year I finally got to go to New York for the first time. This was a frustrating period because I graduated college with no opportunity, I lost my great paying job to go take a test to graduate and when I got back it was hell getting into the marketplace.

Literally applied to over a 1,000 jobs (no cap, I really mean over a thousand!!!) before I got back to it but that’s another story.

Anyways, I got to New York and it was a breath of fresh air, exactly what I needed. Everyday there I drew new pictures, constantly adding to the lore of the__corner.  It was even times I had to choose between eating or getting new markers, of course I chose the markers!!

Even after my return from New York, I was able to continue my consistency into drawing, and I am still carried by those 2016 works today.

C. TYING IT ALL TOGETHER

Recently I started an archive page where I post daily, yes daily, previous works that I’ve done over the year. I’ve put in so much work I can flood the TL at any time. Even before my consistent 2016 year, I’ve been drawing all my life so I can post those as well. 

It’s crazy some of those works are just getting the recognition they deserved. Even pics I did from two years ago are receiving the recognition like it just came out today. Products that I created in 2017, sitting on the floor of my apartment are now some of my highest grossing items.

D. PUTTING THAT WORK IN

First of all it is because of Christ I am able to flourish in any of this. In addition to that, this is what happens when you consistently put that work in. You can be carried by your work! You won’t even have to make new stuff if you don’t want, when you built up your catalog enough, (why do you think your music publishing and stuff like that is so important but thats another story).

So go out there and put in the work, so you too may be carried by your work!

Visit gettothcorner.com

Follow me on twitter @onlyonejaevonn

[zipstick-writes]

Inktober 2020 Day 16 - Rocket

The crew of the brand-new Galactic Navy ship named the Skeld had just departed for a newly-discovered planet, Polus, that Earth scientists had determined would be able to support human life with minimal terraforming. Their mission was to join the established research centre and finish the job.

But for now, the crew, consisting of newly-trained Navy recruits Princey, Dad, Hot Topic, Logan, Trash Man, and Janusss, had to complete the in-flight maintenance to keep the ship in as perfect a condition as was possible while on board, as was made standard by the inter-planetary signing of the 3128-AD Quality Control Act.

Normally, this would be a relatively uncomplicated process. However, the crews of many other ships that had departed from the same Space-Dock had reported impostors murdering crewmates and interfering with vital functions of the ship, often resulting in total system faliures.

And thus, the crew of the Skeld were constantly on the lookout for any suspicious activity from their fellow Astronauts. This is their story.

-

 Day 1

 -

The six climbed down the ladder from the bunk-room above the cafeteria and checked the screen on the southern-facing wall to see which faults had been detected by the ship’s systems overnight. One by one they walked up and touched their tablets to the info-port on the side of the screen, logging their tasks to them.

“Looks like I’ve got to submit my bio-scan.” Logan said, reading from his tablet screen. “Would one of you please accompany me so that they can verify my innocence, should anything happen?”

“That’s quite suspicious of you, isn’t it, Logan?” Trash Man giggled. “Sounds just like what the impostor would say.”

Princey shook his head. “How do we know it’s not you, brother? Accusing another right off the bat like that-“

“Alright kiddos, that’s quite enough fighting.” Dad cut in, glancing at his tablet.

“I’m older than you, remember?” Princey interrupted again.

“Princey, will you shut up?” Sighed Hot Topic exasperatedly.

“I’ve got to scan myself in the Med Bay too,” Dad said through the mounting chaos. “I’ll come with ya, Lo.”

“Thank you. This will be adequate.”

-

Having downloaded the blaster records from the weapons room, Hot Topic was on his way to Administration to upload them to the International Space Agency database. He was at the door when he heard footsteps behind him in the cargo Storage. He turned around, seeing Trash Man standing in the door frame of the hallway.

“Hello, Hot Topic!” He greeted. Overly cheerful for there being a potential murderer on board, Hot Topic noted suspiciously.

“Trash man. Hi.” He responded, measuring his tone carefully so that his suspicion wasn’t noticeable. Hopefully. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I just came to swipe my card. How about you? What are you up to?”

“I’m uploading the data from our weapons systems to HQ.” He said, narrowing his eyes at Trash Man behind his helmet. Despite not being able to see past his helmet, Trash Man seemed to catch onto Hot Topic’s suspicion and stopped talking, moving on to attempting to swipe his Crewmate ID card.

“Ugh, why is this damn thing so goddamn difficult?” He mumbled, swiping his card furiously back and forth in the machine.

“Trash Man! Stop, you’re gonna damage the reader.”

Trash man stopped swiping and looked up at Hot Topic.

“It’s really not that difficult,” Hot Topic said, and having completed the upload was now walking over to where Trash Man was holding his card defeatedly. “Here, give me that card. I’ll do mine, then I’ll do yours for you. Okay?”

“Thanks, Topicy!” Trash Man responded.

“And don’t call me Topicy.” He said. Hot Topic swiped his own card, pleased when the light blinked green the first time. He then swiped, or rather attempted to swipe, Trash Man’s card, but was surprised when the red light blinked and the machine buzzed.

“A bad swipe? That’s weird.”

He was about to try again, when the warning lights began flashing and the alarm beeped loudly and repeatedly. The automated computer-voice repeated the phrase, Oxygen Filter Damaged, followed by a countdown of 30 seconds.

Hot Topic jumped, haphazardly throwing the card back at Trash Man and seeing him move from where he was leaning casually against the wall.

He rushed towards the oxygen room, hands shaking slightly as he inputted the code. Janusss and Dad were standing behind him, having entered O2 after him.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “That was close.”

“It sure was, Kiddo,” Dad remarked, “I wonder what could’ve caused that?”

“The Impostor, of course. Why else would the system fail?” Janusss said sarcastically.

“Oh of course, I’m so sorry for being so ignorant, Lord Janusss.” Hot topic snarked back, bowing over-dramatically. He (figuratively) straightened up, and said, more seriously this time, “I’m heading over to the Cafeteria. Trash Man’s acting off. And his card wouldn’t read in Admin.”

“Trash Man’s always acting off.” Dad replied. He paused to think for a moment, “But I suppose it’s better safe than sorry. I’ll come with you.”

-

EMERGENCY MEETING

-

The three remaining crewmates arrived at the Cafeteria and seated themselves around the central table.

“What happened?” Princey asked.

“There’s something off about Trash Man.” Hot Topic explained. “He followed me into Admin saying he was there to swipe his card, but the reader wouldn’t take it. Not even when I did it for him. And the O2 sabotage happened while my back was turned. He could’ve done it.”

“Was there any noticeable change of behaviour that indicated he was being imitated?” Logan asked.

“Well no,” Hot Topic replied, “But I can’t help but feel like the sabotage was a distraction to draw people away if he was about to.. y’know, kill me.”

“I’m sure that’s just your anxiety clouding your judgement. I realise my brother can be a bit… How do I put this? Bizarre, but that’s no reason to accuse him of sabotage.”

“I’m with Princey.” Logan said, and Hot Topic was sure he could hear him say ‘for once’ under his breath. “We understand your concern, but it’s simply not enough evidence to eject him.”

“Skip?” Dad asked.

“Skip.” Princey and Janusss responded in sync.

-

No one was ejected. (Skipped)

1 Impostor Remains

-

The nighttime alarm sounded, indicating the end of the work day, and the crewmates returned to their bunks and settled down to sleep.

-

 Day 2

 -

The crewmates once again descended the ladder and downloaded their daily tasks, this time in silence. There was no conversation as the six walked in different directions towards their daily tasks.

Logan and Princey set off towards storage to refuel the engines, and Dad went with Hot Topic towards navigation to set a course. Trash Man went off towards electrical maintenance to repair corrosion to the wires.

Janusss made his way over to the reactor.

Once inside, he opened a wiring panel to the reactor’s left. He took out a pocket knife and snapped a couple of wires.

Just enough to cause some trouble, he thought. Checking there was no one around, and glancing at the nearby camera to make sure it was inactive, and opened the hatch leading to the ventilation system. He quietly climbed inside, shutting the hatch behind him.

-

He lifted up the vent and poked his head out, checking he was alone.

Coast’s clear.

He climbed out silently, right as Trash Man rounded the corner. He was about to climb back in, but it was too late. He’d been seen.

Trash Man made to turn around, but Janusss was faster. He lunged, pulling out his knife, and stabbed him in the back.

“One down, four to go.” He hissed.

He was about to return to the vent when it occurred to him. He could get away with this easily.

Janusss opened the panel for the lights and flicked the switches up, disabling the lights on the whole ship. Satisfied, he then went back in the vents and crawled swiftly to the reactor. He poked his head out. Nobody was there. He set off back to electrical, and after a few moments Logan was beside him, having come from the upper engine.

The others were crowded around the panel, and as soon as a light switch was flicked into place it was switched back again.

I could get another one here.

He pulled out his gun, and fired at random. Logan dropped to the floor, and before the others could react, he hid the pistol in his pocket again.

The others abruptly abandoned the lights and looked around frantically. Janus did the same.

Dad was the first to realise who’d been hit.

“Logan.” He cried. “They got Logan!”

Janusss feigned a look of shock before realising that he was wearing a helmet that rendered his face unreadable. Princey stepped back, turning towards where Janusss had killed Trash Man.

“Look.” He said. “Trash Man’s dead too.” He knelt down beside his brother. “I swear on my beautifully manicured sword I will have revenge-“

He was cut off by Dad, who told him they were going to the Cafeteria to have a discussion.

-

“Who did it?” Hot Topic asked.

“It wasn’t me,” Dad said. “I was clearing asteroids with Princey. He can vouch for me.” It’s true.”

“It’s true.” Princey said. “We were together the whole time.”

“Well, me and Logan were in the top engine before the lights cut.” Janusss explained. It was a half-truth; as he’d always say, the best lies contain half the truth. “I was refuelling it and Logan was realigning it.” He could almost hear Logan (and probably Trash Man as well) screaming at him from beyond the grave. But he knew the others bought it. They had seen him and Logan enter together, after all, and they nodded along to the deception.

A sudden voice jolted Janusss out of his thoughts. “What about you, kiddo?” Dad asked, and it was directed at Hot Topic. “You’re the only one who’s not spoken yet.”

Hot Topic was hunched over, seeming nervous despite the space suit hiding his face. “I was in the Med Bay, inspecting the samples.”

I can get one more, Janusss thought. I just need to twist this a bit.

“It may just be me thinking this,” He began, “But it does seem a little suspicious that you’re the only one of us without an alibi.”

Princey and Dad nodded in agreement. “Although I hate to admit it, Janusss is right. You’ve got no-one to verify what you were doing.” Princey said. “Sorry, Emo.” He added.

Hot Topic sighed. “Fine. Eject me. But one of you is lying, I just know it.”

Princey and Janusss held Hot Topic’s arms behind his back as they led him to the airlock, and he didn’t struggle. Dad pulled down the lever to open the door, and Janusss smiled to himself behind his visor.

-

Hot Topic was not The Impostor.

1 Impostor Remains.

-

 Day 3

 -

There was no conversation as the final 3 remaining loaded their tasks onto their tablets. They each went in a separate direction. Dad towards communications, Princey to the Med Bay, and Janusss into storage.

Dad was scared. There were only him and two others left. One of them was the impostor, and they’d only know for sure if they were caught. If they didn’t, they’d all end up dead.

Dad’s hands were shaking as he frantically tried to fix the wiring of the computer.

He heard footsteps behind him.

He turned.

Janusss was standing in the doorway.

Dad froze.

This is it.

Janusss walked towards him, and time seemed to slow.

A gunshot sounded throughout the ship. Everything went black.

-

DEFEAT

-

“Dammit!” Roman slammed his fists on the table. “How are you so good at this?” He asked, glaring at Janus. “This is the third game in a row you’ve won!”

“What can I say?” He said, smirking. “Deceit’s my thing. This game was made for me.”

Patton rolled his eyes, smilling good-naturedly. “Alright, settle down. Who’s up for a rematch?”

“Oh, you’re,” Logan said, pausing to hold up a vocab card, “’On’.”

“If Jan gets impostor again he’s gonna win!” Roman shouted.

“I’m just better than you.” Janus snarked. “You’ll just have to deal with it.”

Virgil smirked. “I can’t wait till I get impostor. Oh, I am so gonna get my revenge.”

“Hey, revenge is my thing!” Remus shouted. “Who knows, maybe I’ll get it first.” He said quietly, smiling maliciously at Janus.

Virgil started another round. “Let’s do this.”

[prettywordsyouleft]

Reconciliation - Part 4 [M]

Pairing: Im Jaebum x reader

Genre: ex-lovers au / angst / romance / business au

Warnings: unprotected sex, mature content.

Reconciliation will be shared daily at 10am NZST.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Jaebum didn’t know what good it would be talking to you but he was relieved he had. After you had run off the first time, he hadn’t made any effort to chase after you.

He had no right.

And so he watched as the waves rolled in and out of the shore, feeling his emotions react much the same. His heart ached for you and yet he had lost that chance, letting you go right when he should have held on instead. He was gutless; someone who had treated you like you would never get enough of him.

Since that’s how he felt about you.

Still, as the waves rolled in, he became hopeful. Maybe finding you here was a sign that someone above had given him another chance. Fate, as it will, had led him down the right path after all.

He wouldn’t have come here had he not wanted to rediscover you.

But there was more than just you that he needed to understand. Jaebum thought he knew all there was to himself. He was acutely aware of his temper as his biggest weakness, and yet he had many strengths that had made him successful.

Though, he was certain you were the main reason that he hadn’t crashed and burned years back.

Now laying on the bed with his leg propped up, he replayed the rest of the morning. You hadn’t told him enough, he decided, and that made him sigh, realising that had been consistently the theme over the years. He had been the one talking and you were the listener. Jaebum’s desire to hear more of your thoughts continued to eat at him, much like his hunger did. He hadn’t eaten yet and given he was actually doing what you instructed because of the pain in his ankle, Jaebum didn’t feel up to walking out to the restaurant to get anything to eat. Reaching for the hotel room’s phone, he ordered in a meal and then turned on the television to stop ruminating over what could have been. The distraction didn’t help much but when he heard the knock at the door, he hobbled over, appreciative of his food and the small bag of ice he had requested before taking his meal over to the table in the room.

Jaebum couldn’t help wondering what you had for lunch, or if you had any. Were you going to do something fun this afternoon or just relax since your morning had been, well, heightened by events with him. As he ate each mouthful, the further curious he became, going as far as to pull out his mobile phone and type up a message to send you.

Jaebum stopped himself just before pressing send, shaking his head. He had said his farewell before on his doorstep and you seemed eager to take it as that. He would only seem clingy and foolish now if he continued playing his hot and cold game with you.

Is this another of your games?

Retreating back to bed, Jaebum carried the bag of ice with him to place over his ankle. It wasn’t too bad of a sprain, though he hoped if he took good care of it right now, he’d be able to spend his final day here tomorrow outside of this room.

And maybe come across you one last time before he flew back home, back to reality where your worlds no longer crossed over.

Groaning as he threw his head back into the pillow with force, Jaebum started to chant loudly to stop thinking of you. He rolled around on the bed, now uncaring of whether the ice was on his ankle or not, and thumped at the sheets, begging his mind to stop pulling up images of you.

This was the consequence of ending up here at the same time. Fate brought forth the opportunity, but there was only so much it could do before it was in his court to complete the deal.

And he had failed.

Just when he felt at wit’s end, Jaebum stilled as he listened again, hoping he had actually heard the knock at the door correctly. Getting up, he made his way to see who was there, assuming it was room service to collect his plate. Smoothing down the hair he had no doubt riled up in his fit, he opened the door, the smile he had placed on his lips fading as he took you in.

You wrung your hands in one another as you caught his eyes. “I uh, well you see… maybe this is the wrong idea.”

“No!” he called as you started to retreat and swallowed quickly. “Would you like to come in?”

“I don’t know if it’s safe for me to, not in this state,” you admitted and his eyes flashed, noticing the pink tinge to your skin.

Jaebum knew you hadn’t stopped thinking about him either.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want to,” he vowed and you nodded absentmindedly, even laughing some.

“The problem is, I think I want to,” you stated and he slumped heavily into the doorframe, blinking when he realised what he had done in reaction.

You grinned. “You’re so clumsy today.”

“Don’t,” he warned with a pout, rubbing at his arm and stepping back towards the bed where he retrieved the ice bag. “I’m already struggling with this.”

“You were always quite useless at the most mundane of tasks.”

“Sue me for always thinking of the bigger picture,” he shot back as he laid back down. You took the bag from his hand and placed it over his ankle.

“Was that it? Always focusing on what was next and not what you had, Jaebum?”

His humour eased as he nodded. “Mm.”

“Was I not enough?”

“I wanted more for you.”

“I had plenty. We had, we had so much already, didn’t you see it?”

Jaebum merely stared at you until it unnerved you and you looked away. He smiled fondly. “I see you now.”

“Just now?”

“Do you want me to continue on from the beach talk?” he offered and you shook your head, resting your hand on his knee. He looked at it there for an immeasurable moment before he shifted up, taking your chin in his hand.

Your focus slipped from the ice and up to his face, searching his gaze for a sign that this could happen. He caressed the side of your cheek. “It’s all on your terms. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Even let me go?” you asked and Jaebum nodded tightly. “But you don’t want to?”

He couldn’t take it anymore, whining with the building need to take you in his arms. It was painful withholding the usual dominant way he took you and you seemed surprised that he hadn’t made a move already.

So you made your own.

Lips exploring his, you pushed him down onto the mattress, shifting with him so you now were seated over his waist. Jaebum felt the bag of ice slip off his foot as he reached up to encircle your waist, drawing you in closer to his body with a moan. Normally it was you who made all the noises first and he felt you smile into his lips, licking along them for further access. You were driving him mad and there was something different in the way you each moved right now. He was much too hesitant to take control and you were liberated by this. Pressing him further into the bedding, you moved your hips into his, receiving a guttural groan from him. He had gone far too long without your body and it worried him that he wouldn’t even hold out much longer. His stamina had taken a nosedive with your departure.

You were already heaving as well, and he noted it wasn’t only him that was struggling. “God, Jaebum-- just, we need to!”

Helping you out of your clothing and then allowing you to rid him of his own, Jaebum held your hips as he guided himself up inside you. The shared moment was loud as you both grew accustomed to the stretch and Jaebum gripped at your flesh to settle himself from bucking wildly from the sensation. When you were both ready, you began to move together in a rhythm that felt too familiar.

You both had never been one for slow and sensual first, and right now, the concept of that seemed torturous. Jaebum barely maintained control, feeling the coiling within his stomach not long after you began to rock on him. Deciding to utilise what little time he had left before he lost his cool, he aimed for the spot that always made you cry out in ecstasy, driving into you repeatedly until you did just that. With the flood of warmth, he joined you, wrapping himself up in you as he continued to jerk with his high.

Nestling into his chest as you made no effort to move aside from catching your breath, Jaebum buried his head into your shoulder, mouthing it lovingly. You sighed heavily.

“We didn’t last long at all.”

“Was it worth it?” he asked into your neck and you nodded, shivering with how good it felt. Shifting so he could place you down on the bed, Jaebum scooted down the bed, trailing his mouth over your body as he ended up in between your legs. You reached out for him impatiently, eyes hooded with lust. He licked at his lips before smirking. “Good. You didn’t think it would just end here though, did you?”

It was late when you both had finally had your fill. Spent, you laid within each other’s arms, lips pressing into any part of skin you could each reach. Jaebum fingered lightly the bruise rising upon the mound of your breast, feeling you arch within his grip ever so slightly.

“Hungry?” he asked and you hummed in response, kissing his shoulder. “For me?”

“For food,” you reiterated and he chuckled, nodding as he rolled towards the phone. You giggled since he pulled you along with him, reaching out for the menu so you could pick what room service would bring. Once ordered, you kissed Jaebum passionately before getting up and heading into the bathroom. You returned in one of his shirts and Jaebum bit his lip, wondering how after the endless lovemaking that he could feel himself get a rise once again. Throwing his pyjamas at him, you beckoned him to the edge of the bed, kneeling before him.

“Not that I think that ankle of yours is super painful if you can do all you have done tonight,” you mused, you rolled up one leg of his bottoms and place it over his foot. “I thought I should help you all the same.”

“Sick of seeing me like this?” he wondered with a smile and you rolled your eyes, your hands running up his thighs as you pulled the fabric with them.

“Honestly, you’re like an energiser battery,” you remarked as your efforts had definitely stirred him up again. “How long did they say we have until the food is here?”

“Are you unable to wait until your meal arrives for dessert?” he asked and you gripped at his thighs, clawing out a low curse from Jaebum. “Looks like I can’t either.”

_________________

Part 5

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[glassbangtan]

Jungkook is Typing... {Jungkook x Reader}

Words: 21.1k

Summary: You and Jungkook met online when you were only fourteen years old. Neither of you thought meeting up would be a possibility, until you’re hired as Big Hit’s new editor. 

Genre: mild smut, angst, fluff. 

Warning: sexual scenes (but nothing graphic)

Notes: masterlist 

---

You and Jungkook met online.

   This is where most people roll their eyes, close the book and move on. It's this little pinprick of information that makes people turn a blind eye and assume the absolute worst.

   In truth, you never really blamed them for this mindset.

   You were only fourteen when you started getting into online gaming, and it wasn't like it was some massive deal at the time. Everyone was doing it; World of Warcraft, Dungeons and Dragons, Minecraft Online were all common topics of conversation amongst your year ten class, with people sharing server pins and usernames in a similar way to how they used to share sweets when the teacher wasn't looking. It was no surprise to you – or anyone else – when you asked your parents for a computer for Christmas, and quickly got hooked on the game Prisons of Terror.

    It was all you ever talked about, because – in truth – it was all you ever did. You got home from school, threw your bag on the floor and darted to your room. Some days, you didn't even bother saying hello to your mother in fear of someone logging onto the online server before you and getting all the weaponry you'd stashed away in an unlocked chest. You simply could not let that happen. Over one hundred and twenty five hours of hard work were not going to waste just so you could make idle chat with the woman who lived downstairs.

     Your parents never questioned it – as stated, this wasn't some new phenomenon, and you didn't have a problem. You were quite capable of logging out of the game when the server was quiet, and you only spoke about it when someone else was willing to engage in conversation. Other than that, most people saw you as a fairly capable, intelligent fourteen year old – normal.

     But this little passing fling with Prisons of Terror grew when GoldenJeon entered the server for the very first time. You remembered the date, remembered flicking your eyes up from your homework with the game still running in the background – hardly anyone was playing, so you'd decided to at least be a little bit productive as you waited for some of your other friends to come online. Never before had you seen GoldenJeon written across the bottom of the screen.

    You narrowed your eyes, leaned forward and quickly typed into the chat: Who are you?

    He didn't reply. You left it at that. He was probably just there to try it out, too nervous to speak to anyone until he found his footing in the game and was finally able to open up a little bit more.

  A few days later, he appeared again.

  You were quicker with your curiosity this time, barely letting his name disappear from the chat before you were repeating your previous question.

    GoldenJeon is typing...

   But then he stopped, and there was no response given.

  Maybe it was this constant game of back and forth that piqued your interest, that had you pondering over the person behind the strange username. His characters skin consisted of the gear of prisoners, which has always been a strange thing to pick when playing this game. Most people are drawn to the powerful looking players, the guards, the people with swords and crossbows slung across their backs – your own was a person in a guards uniform, your weapon consisting of two circular blades strapped to your shoulders.

  Your curiosity heightened to levels you could no longer control, and you opened up a new, private chat with GoldenJeon and started texting.

  Innocent questions at first; asking him who he was, how long he'd been playing the game, who the hell gave him the password for the server you were so familiar with at this point.

  And he texted back.

  He gave you answers, the conversation flowing so much easier than you'd ever expected it to. His silence in the beginning had unsettled you to the point where you'd ridiculously convinced yourself he didn't like you – even before he'd spoken to you. He was ignoring everything you said, so what else were you supposed to believe?

  But the two of you texted like best friends outside of the ring of the game you'd grown so addicted to. He sent emojis, and after a few months of constant back and forth, he started sending you little pictures of his dog and the doodles he did during class, and you granted him the same thing. You were never much of an artist, but you put a lot of effort into the drawings you sent him, and also put a lot of effort into making them look effortless, just like he did.

    GoldenJeon: got bored in class again. Teacher nearly caught me this time. {ATTACHED IMAGE}

   He was talented. There was no denying that. Even at fourteen, there wasn't a sense of jealousy that came with this acknowledgement, but a simple sense of pride. You often tilted the phone to your friend, Yul, and let him see the fresh, simplistic art work GoldenJeon had sent you that day, and Yul would hum and compliment him, and you'd sit there smugly as if to say yep, he's my friend.

   After a few weeks, GoldenJeon became somebody else. He became Jeon Jungkook, a student in Busan – miles away from where you lived, but close enough to startle you. Both of you lived in Korea – that had to count for something.

     The start of it all was a bumpy road, but looking down at your phone now, you can't help but grin at the realisation that it really was all worth it. Though you and Jungkook are yet to meet in person, not a day has gone by in the past four years where he hasn't sent you some bizarre song, or some scribbled doodle on the back of his notebook. Not a day has gone by where he hasn't sent you a good morning text and asked you how you are, what you've eaten, what your plans are for the day.

     He's your best friend, but telling people that earns you a few confused glances, so you tend to refrain as far from that conversation as humanly possible.

    Jungkook: I'm bored. Please cheer me up before I walk out and fail this entire class.

   Y/N: tough day?

   Jungkook: The worst day. I forgot we had a test.

  Y/N: what a Jungkook thing to do.

    Jungkook: Fuck off and cheer me up. I'm keeping you around for one thing and one thing only.

   Y/N: to cheer you up?

   Jungkook: Exactly.

   Challenge accepted. Standing in line at Starbucks, you shamelessly lift your phone high above your head and take a selfie, sticking your tongue out and throwing up the peace sign for added effect. You hit 'send' to Jungkook and stuff your phone back in your pocket, turning round to retrieve your coffee and head back to work.

    Jungkook goes to a weekend performance club in Seoul. This much you know, as you get updates from him on the daily about how his classes are going and how life is now that he's basically an independent man who can do whatever the hell he wants; as well as being a student, he's also a trainee.

    He told you about his dreams of becoming an idol on multiple occasions, but you'd heard it all before. Growing up, every single person in your class wanted to be an idol at some point; rising stars like Big Bang and EXO inspired the youth to strive to become as rich and famous as possible – but it always died away, and that's what you thought was going to happen with Jungkook.

    You really should have known better.

  He was only fifteen when he texted you saying he'd passed his audition. Confused, you'd asked him what he meant, only for him to send you a picture – “photo credit to my mum!” - of him standing in front of a sign with the words Big Hit plastered across it. You leaped out of your chair, squealing with happiness, immediately pressing 'CALL' to continue your freak out with him on the line; he'd started crying, you'd started crying, and that phone call will forever go down as the one that cost you the most money as it lasted for over four hours.

    He was still working hard. You got the updates. You comforted him when it all got too much. You helped each other out.

    Your phone chimes, signalling Jungkook's response.

   Jungkook: Okay good. I think I can push through now. Wish me luck. Love you loads and all that.

  You grin.

   Y/N: love you too. Don't kill anyone. Xx

   The conversation disappears and you are finally able to sink yourself back into reality – work.

   Whilst Jungkook is a thriving trainee, you're an intern at a publishing house. Whilst Jungkook spends his days singing and dancing, you spend your days going through unedited manuscripts and marking them up with red pen.

     Your boss, Mr Grey, is standing by your desk when you walk in, which is already the first bad sign of the morning. His arms are folded, his grey (yes, grey) moustache freshly waxed. You swallow back a laugh, giving him your best grin as you walk past him to your desk, pretending that his presence in your office is a normal, everyday occurrence.

   You already know you're in Big Trouble. Mr Grey never steps foot outside of his office unless someone is in Big Trouble.  

  “Are you sure you need that caffeine this morning?” is the first thing he asks, as it usually is. Mr Grey is on a health kick. Even though you know it's temporary and he's been through this with you a million different times before, he will still chastise you for any and all unhealthy lifestyle choices you make in his presence whilst he is trying to slim down.

  You take a small sip of your hot beverage, clap your lips together and say, “Definitely.” You set your folder down on your desk before turning to him fully. “How may I help you this morning, sir?”

   “I need to speak with you about an important matter,” he replies. You pause, waiting for him to elaborate, but his eyes have suddenly turned shifty and there is not a single hint in his posture to reveal whatever riddle he has just spoken.

  You look around cautiously, half expecting Soobin from the next office to jump out and spray you with Silly String, or perhaps throw a can of paint in your face. You honestly wouldn't put it past Mr Grey to want to poison you somehow.

  When nothing seems out of place, you turn back to your boss and say, “Okay. Do you want to sit down?” You gesture towards the seat he is stiffly standing behind, and he nods before slowly lowering himself onto the worn out cushion. You follow his lead, shuffling a few papers around because that's often all you need to do to look busy around here. You then intertwine your fingers over a thick folder and glance at him, waiting for him to usher the conversation along.

  He inhales and rubs a single finger along one of his bushy grey eyebrows. “There has been an opportunity given to me recently that I unfortunately cannot take for myself, so I've come here to ask if you would like to take the chance in my place.”

   He says it just like that. The previous silence, the drawn out dramatics just look stupid now, and you can't help but stare at him blankly as the words settle in. You haven't been there for very long, and you're still barely full-time. You're still considered an intern by most people, and still have a lot to learn – so why is he offering you something like this when there's hundreds of other worthy colleagues who would know what to do with this opportunity so much better than you?

  “Right,” you say slowly. “I'm gonna need a few more details, I think.”

  “It requires travel.”

  “I don't really think I can aff-”

  “All expenses will be paid by the agency. They'll organise a flat and transport when it's needed. They've been very generous with this offer, which is why I think it would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

   Your heart is thumping. This is real. This is serious.

  “What is this offer?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady but failing miserably.

  “A well-known company is writing up a catalogue for future employees and they want an editor flown out to make corrections on hand if they need it.”

  You blink. “That's . . . Unheard of. Why don't they just send the manuscript out?”

  “Because that takes too long, and they don't have that amount of time,” Mr Grey explains. “Plus, they're already in partnership with another editing agency, but this agency doesn't have enough staff free at the moment to take on the job. That's why they came to me.”

  “So you'll be shipping me off to another editing agency? I'll become part of another team?” You raise your brows, slowly lean back in your chair. “You could have just sacked me, Mr Grey. It would have done the same thing.”

  Mr Grey rolls his eyes – he never has any time for comments like these. It's part of the reason you find it so difficult to find even ground with him. “You'll be coming back eventually. This is just a temporary job, a favour for a friend.”

  You sigh. “This is a lot to take in, sir.”

  “I understand,” he replies, before he starts standing up. “I'll give you time to think about it, and when you-”

   You launch yourself over the desk, grabbing his wrist and dragging him back into his seat before he can get much further. “Jesus, Mr Grey, slow down. I never said I wouldn't take the bloody offer.” You grab a pen from the Worlds Worst Drinker mug on the corner of your desk. “What do I sign and when do I leave?”

  ---

  The train station is bustling with people, but you had been expecting nothing different when you were told you'd be shipped off to Seoul.

  Seoul, South Korea. A place you'd once only dreamed about stepping foot in. As you'd grown older, the idea of visiting the capital became more and more intimidating, and you've since grown quite fond of your tiny little area. You'd heard the stories, seen the pictures of the crowded streets and the smoke that always fills the air, but hearing about these details and being amongst them are two very, very different experiences.

  You step off the train at long last, shoulder immediately shoved by a passer-by who is too busy looking down at his phone to notice you standing right in front of him. You frown, quickly pull your timetable out of your pocket and look down – you're meant to be meeting your colleague. According to the timetable, this mystery person was meant to pick you up in their car and drive you straight to the building you'd be working at – which, at this moment in time, you have not yet heard the name of.

  You look around for any sign of somebody professional looking – sadly, that seems to be the majority of Seoul. You're surprised to see that half of the people bustling around look like they're on their way to work, wearing nice suits or long coats that hide whatever professional gear they're wearing underneath.

  “Y/N L/N?”

  Your eyes shoot up, heartbeat thumping because you know, just from the sound of the unfamiliar voice, that things are finally starting. There is no backing out of this. You can't just turn around and get back on the train – you've taken the offer, and you're stuck.

  You turn on your heel, placing your professional grin on your face. Standing behind you is a fairly small man with a tiny black moustache, wearing an oversized grey hoodie and a beanie. Little black hairs trickle from the edge of his hat and poke him in the eyes, but he does nothing to shift them out the way.

  He certainly wasn't what you had been expecting. He's shorter than you by a few inches. He's wearing casual clothes, even on a Wednesday afternoon. He looks like any normal human being, even a little laid back.

  “Mr Son!” you exclaim. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Please, call me Sungdeuk,” he says. “I hope the train ride wasn't too bad? I know they can get a little crowded and uncomfortable.”

  As he speaks, he grabs for your suitcase and starts down the platform. You blink, ponder over whether or not to follow him before you're nearly tripping over your own feet trying to catch up.

  “Uh, yeah. It was a – uh – experience,” you reply. “I'm just glad I got here on time.”

  “I assume you know all about the kind of work you'll be doing?”

  “Mhm!”

  You cringe even as the noise leaves your lips, because in truth, you have absolutely no idea what it is you'll be doing. What little you've been told barely seems to cover the surface, and you're still carrying around many questions in which you know will need answered eventually – when you get to that point, you'll make sure to ask, but for now, it's safer to just pretend you're prepared.

   You and Sungdeuk make your way into a large Range Rover that is parked outside the station. Sungdeuk gets in the front seat whilst you clamber into the back, and immediately a cold bottle of water is passed to you over the back of Sungdeuk's seat.

  “Kept chilled, just for you,” he says, winking in the rear view mirror.

  You smile and grab for the drink, but your stomach is reeling with nerves and you know for a fact you won't be able to keep anything down, liquid or not. And so, you mess with the lid, curling your fingers around it until the clasp bites into your palm, until the condensation is sinking into your jeans and making the leather seats damp.

  Neither of you speak for the majority of the drive, and Sungdeuk seems perfectly fine with that. He barely even glances at you, too busy leaning his head against the headrest with his eyes closed, like he's living in his own fantasy world. Even the driver is perfectly content with the silence, but it itches at your skin. You should be talking. You want your first impression to be chipper, friendly, curious. You want your new boss to think you're actually interested in whatever it is you've been signed up for.

  Cautiously, you lean forward and poke your head between the passenger and driver seat. “Uh, hi.”

  Sungdeuk creaks open one eye. “You alright?”

  “I was just – uh – I have a question.” You may as well slip a question in now.

  Sungdeuk turns to look at you. “Go ahead. I thought you were told everything.”

  “I was told most things,” you lie. “Except for – you know – who I'll actually be working for.”

  Sungdeuk stares at you, waiting for the non-existent punch line. You suddenly want to curl up in a ball, perhaps throw yourself out the window.

  He purses his lips when you stay silent, features completely straight. “You don't know who you're working for?”

  “I'm sure it was in the contract,” you hasten to say. “I might have just missed it. You know what, sorry for bothering you.” You wave a dismissive hand, already leaning back in your seat and pretending you didn't even speak up in the first place. “You carry on doing what you're doing, and I'll just sit back here and-”

   “We're here anyway,” he says, grinning at your sudden flustered state. You don't even have a chance to be embarrassed, as you lurch forward and look out the window, just as the massive gates open into the car park behind a large grey building. Lights are on in almost every single room, and there's a sign on the door that reads, in big, bold letters:

  BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT.

  And you want to scream.

  There's no way. There's absolutely no way this is real life. You've decided. You've come to the conclusion that maybe you hit your head on the train and now you're actually dreaming this entire thing. You're in a coma somewhere. A doctor is poking at you this very minute, but you won't wake up because-

  “Y/N?”

  Your eyes snap up. “Hm?”

  “We going in?”

  You swallow thickly and gather your wits, trying to calm the race of your heartbeat. Your phone burns a hole in your pocket – you want to text Jungkook so bad, because you can already guess his reaction. He's going to be mortified. The safe little friendship the two of you have is going to be destroyed as soon as he sees you walk in them doors, because he can no longer hide behind the distance that was always such a comfort blanket between the two of you. Sure, it was a pain in the ass sometimes. Sometimes Jungkook would just go on huge rants about wanting to cuddle you because he couldn't sleep, and its them moments where the distance can honestly just fuck off – but at the same time, you have a pimple growing on your forehead that Jungkook would never be able to see.

  Not until now.

  Nonetheless, you know you can't just set up camp in the back of the Range Rover, so you gather your bags and follow Sungdeuk into the lobby of the building. He's chatting away, giving you a brief tour of the area you can see, but you're not even paying attention.

  On the wall, the posters glare at you.

  “Who is Bangtan Sonyeondan?” you ask, not even realising you're cutting the man off.

  He lowers his hand and follows your gaze to the poster you're currently inspecting; it consists of seven men, all of whom you recognise because Jungkook idolises each and every one. He texts you about their daily runnings almost every single day, and you find it kind of strange that you know Namjoon's favourite cereal to have in the morning, as well as the fact that Seokjin shrunk his favourite pink socks the other day.

  But it's Jungkook who your focus is trained upon, because you recognise him immediately. The brown hair, the dumpling cheeks and the baggy clothes. He's staring into the camera with such a serious look on his face, and half of you wants to burst into a fit of giggles whilst the other half of you wants to burst into flames.

  “They're the group,” Sungdeuk says.

  You raise a brow. “The group?”

  “The only group Big Hit is representing at the minute,” he confirms. “They've been together for a few years now. I'm surprised you haven't heard of them.”

   You swallow. You have heard of them – probably on a much deeper level than Sungdeuk can even begin to comprehend.

  He moves on with the tour, leading you through winding hallways, explaining each and every detail as he does so. You meet a few people on the way past; a few producers, a few choreographers, a few people who are messing with broken cameras and lights. The building just seems to get more and more complex the longer you walk, and it isn't long until Sungdeuk is leading you directly to the training room.

  Thankfully, it's empty for now.

  “And this is my place,” he says, stretching his arms out. The room is only small, but it's brightly lit and there's a glowing neon sign in the corner that reads BTS. Beneath it are a pair of shoes that look as if they had been discarded not long ago; with your limited knowledge of fashion, you're able to identify them as Balenciagas.

  “This is where the boys come to learn their choreographies and practice some of their old stuff,” Sungdeuk continues to explain. “I sent them on their break so I could come and get you.”

   You smile warily. “So what is it you actually do around here?”

  “I'm the production manager,” he replies. “But I'm also the lead choreographer. I come up with the dances, teach them to the boys and send them on their way. They're quite independent that way – they don't need me holding their hand through everything.”

  You chuckle. “I heard Hoseok does a lot of the training. He tends to just take over.”

  Sungdeuk laughs. “Yeah, he's a really good-” He freezes. You glance at him over your shoulder. His eyes are narrowed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Wait. How do you know about Hoseok?”

   Aaaaaand, you've already fucked up.

  Your brain runs at a million miles per hour, because there's a legible answer there somewhere. You can lie. You can come up with something – anything -  but god, your hands are now sweaty and he's staring at you with his head tilted and he probably thinks you're such a crazed stalker.

  You open your mouth to reply, to say anything, but the words are cut off by the sound of booming laughter and the door opening. It squeaks, and you make a mental note to bring some WD40 with you next time you're here.

  But until then, you have to calm down, because Jungkook is there and he's taller than you imagined, and he's captured your eye already meaning there's absolutely no getting out of this mess.

  Sungdeuk greets the other boys – all six of them, fuck sake – but Jungkook stays rooted to the floor. In his hand is a coffee. In his other hand is a water. He's wearing a bandanna and an oversized hoodie, and it takes everything in you not to melt into the floorboards right here and now.

  “Everyone, meet Y/N L/N,” Sungdeuk announces, one arm wrapped around Namjoon's waist, the other pushed towards you. “They're the new editor for the Big Hit catalogue.”

  “Ay, you found someone!” Taehyung exclaims, walking towards you with those long, intimidating legs that are neatly covered by a pair of striped trousers. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you tight against him. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I'm Taehyung.”

  “Nice to meet you,” you mumble.

  “Awk look; they're already nervous,” Seokjin teases, peeling his jacket off his very, very broad shoulders.

  “Don't worry. We don't mind a few typos,” Yoongi chimes in.

  You try to laugh, but it sounds forced and honestly not worth the effort. Even the boys seem to notice the dry, false side to the giggle as they all turn to look at you, a crowd of raised eyebrows turning to look at you all at once – but again, you can't take your eyes off of Jungkook for even a second.

  This is the person you've been talking to since you were fourteen. This is the person who calls you in the middle of the night because he doesn't know what to get from the fridge. This is the person who sends you countless videos on Snapchat of him trying to figure out how to fit the sheet back on his bed in the morning, most of which end with him saying, “Seokjin will do it.”

  He's standing in front of you, and he's real, and you're still not entirely convinced you're not dreaming.

  Until he speaks.

  “D-don't be nervous,” he says. “You'll do a great job. I know you will.”

  Oh yeah. You're definitely going to melt into the floorboards at any given moment.

  ---

  “I can't believe this-”

  “I swear to god I didn't know it was Big Hit I was gonna be working for.”

   “You're here. How are you here?”

  “I took a train, Jungkook. A train! Do you know how terrified I am of fast moving vehicles?”

  Jungkook closes his eyes, tilts his head back against the wall you've accidentally pushed him against in your panic. You aren't even sure how you've done it, but in your hectic panic, you've ended up basically shoving him against the wall as soon as the two of you are away from the large group of excited, older men.

  You take a step back and awkwardly rub the back of your neck. “Look, I'm being serious. I didn't even know what company had hired me until Sungdeuk pulled up outside the Big Hit building. I wasn't searching for you or anything.”

  Jungkook cracks an eye open. “You know I'm not even meant to be in contact with you.”

  This draws you up short. “What?”

  “After I joined Big Hit to be a trainee, they made me sign this massive contract thing. It said I had to cut all ties with certain people, and I signed it and said I would.” He bites his lip and looks away, as if confessing to his crimes makes him somehow not worthy to look into your eyes. “And then I texted you the same day about going online for a few hours.”

  Your chest hurts. Physically aches. “You were meant to cut ties with me?”

  “I didn't take it seriously!” he hisses, tugging at his hair. “I was fifteen, for gods sake. It wasn't until Hoseok started telling me all the things he had to do to make up his contract that I started realising I should probably be – you know – paying attention, too, but I liked texting you. It became kind of routine, so I never stopped.”

   You hollow out your cheeks. Not even a full day into business and already Jeon Jungkook is overwhelming you; you're not even surprised.

  “Okay, so we just don't tell anyone that we know each other,” you say, as if the two of you haven't already put suspicion in people's heads by basically handling each other with bubble wrap the entire afternoon.

  “But I was gonna – I was gonna ask if you wanted to go get dinner tonight,” he says. You raise a brow. He rolls his eyes, shakes his head. “As friends, you sleez.”

  “Okay, okay, I was kidding,” you chuckle. “We can still go to dinner, Jungkook. You can just tell the guys you're going somewhere else, and then we'll meet up. Although, I don't really know my way around Seoul just yet so...”

  “Do you know where you're staying?” he asks.

  You pull a piece of paper from your back pocket and shove it in his hands; written in almost unintelligible handwriting is your new, temporary address. Jungkook's eyes light up when he reads it.

  “Hey, that's not far from the dorms!” he says. “I can come and pick you up if that makes it easier. Then we can finally . . . you know . . . discuss what's going on here.”

  The way he says it makes your spine tingle, like being friends is some kind of scandal. Apparently it kind of is, considering Jungkook was meant to cut all ties with you over three years ago and just casually decided not to, as if it was no big deal. Part of you wants to be flattered by it. The other part of you wants to slap him up side the head for thinking his friendship with you was more important than living his dreams.

  “How long are you staying?” he asks, voice suddenly quiet.

  “However long it takes for the catalogue to be made,” you reply, before awkwardly stepping forward. “Jungkook, I just want you to know that I'm not here for a holiday. I have work to do.”

  Jungkook's head snaps up, eyes alert. “What? Of course. I know that. I was just – I mean, we've been friends for a long time, Y/N. I think it's about time I take you for dinner.” He raises a brow. “Unless you think this is weird. 'Cause we can always just go back to texting and sending each other stupid videos.”

  You chuckle, glancing down at the floor where your toes are very nearly hitting against his. You don't step back, simply kick a rock up onto his shoe which he kicks back onto yours almost immediately. “No. I think this is good. It's like fate, isn't it? Even the universe can't keep us apart kind of thing.”

  Jungkook scoffs. “Is this another one of them astrology things you always send to me?”

  You roll your eyes, nudging Jungkook with your elbow. “I was trying to be sweet, you idiot.”

  “You don't need to be sweet. I've seen you make a fake Instagram account to get a look at your ex-boyfriend's new page.”

  “I was fifteen-”

  He starts walking back towards the building. “I've seen it.”

  “Jungkook, I swear to-”

  “I've seen it, Y/N!”

  ---

  You shouldn't feel nervous, but you do.

  As you look at yourself in the mirror and try desperately to fix your travel-hair, you remind yourself that this is Jungkook. GoldenJeon. The boy you've known for years, the boy who knows you better than any of your real life friends do. There will be no awkward silences, because there is so much to talk about. There will be no flustered glances, because there is no reason to be flustered. There will be absolutely no tension during this dinner, because you and Jungkook have been friends for years. Just because he is now a physical form changes nothing.

  These are the rules you set out for yourself as you slip on your shoes and head for the door of your new apartment. It's small, one bedroom, a tiny kitchen and a sofa. There's a generously sized television hung up on the far wall, and a picture of a house plant hung beside it; you're half tempted to take it down and replace it with a family picture, but something about that makes this place seem a little too permanent. You don't want to be getting attached when you know full well you'll be heading home in a matter of months.

  Jungkook texts you to tell you he's outside at exactly seven pm. He's on time, something you weren't expecting considering he has a habit of being late to almost every single meeting he's invited to – he tells you these things on a daily basis, claiming he slept in or he forgot, or he got too caught up in his games.

  But he's not lying. You step outside into the chilly night air of Seoul and are greeted by the sight of his warm smile and fluffy brown hair. He's wearing an oversized coat, his hands tucked into the pockets, his shoulders bunched around his ears. When he sees you exit through the front door, he picks up his pace to a penguin-like jog before jumping in front of you and bundling you into a hug you most definitely were not expecting.

  “Do you see how early I am?” he asks. You can feel his lips moving against the crown of your head, and your face heats up.

  “You're on time,” you correct. “And apparently in a very good mood.”

 He pulls away, holds you at arms length. His brown eyes look so light beneath the yellow glow of the street lamps. It's a doe-like look, and it makes your spine tingle when it's trained on you.

  “Of course I'm in a good mood,” he says. “I've already picked out the restaurant we're going to. It's called Frapuls.”

  You raise a brow, letting Jungkook slip his hand into your own as he starts to lead you down the pavement. “Frapuls? I don't think I've ever heard of that before.”

  “It's good. All sorts of food – burgers, kimchi, stir-fry – anything you want, they have it.” He looks over his shoulder. “I wasn't sure what kind of food you liked, so I just picked the one that had the most options.”

   You smile. “Frapuls sounds perfect.”

  The restaurant itself is small, sparcely populated. Part of you thinks Jungkook's decision to eat here had more to do with the fact that it isn't busy than because he was unsure of your food preferences – nonetheless, you're not complaining. Jungkook leads you into the tiny restaurant, mutters something to the man at the front desk before the two of you are led towards a table on the far side of the restaurant.

  It's dimly lit, tiny little lanterns placed all around the room being the only source of light. It makes Jungkook's eyes a little darker, making you want to rip his bucket hat off his head just so you can be given better access to the doe-like brown eyes you had seen earlier on. However, when Jungkook looks at you from across the table, there is no more wondering; you can see his eyes perfectly fine, bright and round and questioning. He looks so curious, tracing your features, trying to figure you out – you can see it in his expression. He has questions, so many questions, but he says none of them until you cough and meet his gaze.

  “You can ask me anything you want.” It's a bold statement, but you mean it.

  Jungkook pulls back, spreading his fingers across his untouched menu. He licks his bottom lip and sighs. “There's just so many things that don't make sense.”

  “Like?”

  “Like how you're here. How I didn't know you were going to be here. How we managed to meet up after years of just texting online, and it wasn't even planned.” He shakes his head. “People in our situation literally go through hell to see each other, and it just fell into our laps.”

  You bite your lip. “Would you say it's luck?”

  “I don't really believe in luck.” Jungkook leans forward, folding his arms in front of him. “But I can't really put my finger on what else it could be.”

  “A coincidence,” you suggest. “I mean, it's insane that the people from Big Hit decided to choose the publishing agency I work for to edit their catalogue. It's insane that my boss decided I'd be a good replacement for him.”

  Jungkook raises a brow. “It's not insane. You're brilliant at what you do. I've been subject to plenty of late night distressed phone calls to be able to vouch for that.”

   You scoff. “You of all people are not allowed to talk about late night distressed phone calls. I think I received at least one a week from you – I marked them on my calender.”

   “I'm not that bad!”

  “You definitely are. I have the receipts-”

  Jungkook's hand snaps out and curls around your wrist before you can grab your phone.

  “Alright, I believe you,” he says. “But that's not the point.”

  You grin, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Look, maybe it's better if we don't question why we were lucky enough for this to happen. Neither of us know how long we've got together, so we might as well focus our attention on other things.”

   Jungkook nods, looking down at his menu. “I agree. For example, you never told me how short you are.”

  You very nearly choke on the air you're breathing.

  Your eyes snap open, darting across the table to where Jungkook is now grinning down at his menu, pretending like this conversation starter is oh-so-normal, and not at all totally ludicrous.

  “I'm average!” you argue. “It's not my fault you're a complete skyscraper of a human being.”

  Jungkook raises a brow, still yet to look up from his menu. “I'm not even that tall. You're just taking the piss.”

  “Is this your way of charming me?”

  “I didn't know you wanted me to charm you in the first place.”

  You grit your teeth, shifting your eyes back to your menu.

  Jungkook, however, is on a roll. “Did you notice that I could put my chin on your head when I hugged you earlier? Is that not adorable?”

  “I'm average,” you repeat.

  “You're small. The sooner you realise it, the better. Then I can give you more chin-to-head hugs.”

  It sounds promising. That single hug outside your apartment had been enough to fill you with so many butterflies that you were convinced you would float off like a balloon pumped with helium. His arms had been warm. You had convinced yourself that he'd hidden hot packs in the front of his coat, because nobody's chest could be that warm and welcoming in two degree weather. He'd even gone as far as to press his lips into the crown of your head, and you remember that vividly, because it was that very movement that-

  “Can I take your order?”

  You look up, cheeks heating up with the realisation that you had just completely zoned out, remembering Jungkook hugging you. Looking over, you can see Jungkook staring at you, his cheeks a vivid red colour and his eyebrows furrowed. You bite your lip, looking back up at the smiling waitress who is waiting patiently at your table with a notebook in her hands.

  You order the pasta carbonara and a water, whilst Jungkook orders the steak and rice with an iced Coke to go along with it. The two of you don't mention the lack of alcohol – you don't trust yourself to get drunk in front of him yet, and if your thoughts are anything to go by, you need to keep your brain in check tonight.

   Jungkook's look of confusion does not leave his face throughout the meal, even as the conversation develops a life of its own. The two of you bicker like an old married couple, Jungkook complaining about the amount of times he has to revive your character in Overwatch and you complaining that you always have to give him extra supplies in Minecraft, even though you've totally, one hundred percent outgrown Minecraft and only play it because Jungkook still likes it, and his character would definitely die if you were not there to make sure he keeps his inventory full.

  You're not even surprised with how easy the conversation flows; it's like your texting, but with your mouths. The banter, the teasing, the sly jabs that are always so present in your text conversations do not take the back seat even when you are in front of each other – the only difference now is that you can see his expressions, can hear his laughter, can hear his scoffs of disbelief, and it makes your insides melt with each and every thing he says.

  It's so much better than texting. It's so much better than patchy Skype calls. It's so much better than you could have ever imagined.

  You speak for hours even after your meal has finished. You place your napkin over your empty meal, place your bag in your lap but neither of you move from the table; you just keep talking, shifting into a debate on whether Billie Eilish or Justin Bieber have the best new song out – Jungkook admits that he's taken a liking to Billie Eilish, but hastens to insist that Justin Bieber is, and forever will be, his ride-or-die.

  You only leave the restaurant when the shy waitress glides over to you and tells you that the table you've been over-occupying for hours is needed. Jungkook has paid for the entire meal (plus a tip) before you even have a chance to find your purse.

  You shoot him a glare once the two of you are finally outside again, subject to the cold winter air and the surprisingly busy streets of Seoul – back in your home town, the streets were basically empty at this time, but Seoul is different. Seoul is always alive, always bustling with people and chatter and entertainment. Even at this time of night, there are buskers seated on the pavement and dancers twirling through the streets, lights on in every household. It vibrates with an energy you've never known before, and it sends a ripple of excitement coursing through you.

  Jungkook ignores your glare and continues walking, a dull smile playing on his features that you find difficult to miss.

  “I don't wanna go back to the dorms yet,” he says without turning to look at you. You are forced to pick up your pace just to catch up with him, and when you do, you latch onto his arm so you don't lose him amongst the ever-thickening crowd. If it bothers him, he says nothing.

  “What else can we do?” you ask. “It's getting late.”

  “So?”

  “So all the shops are closed.”

  Jungkook raises a brow, glancing down at you as if your logic is extremely flawed. “Again, so?”

  “Jungkook, we can't just-”

  “Watch this.” He shrugs out of your grip and marches towards a nearby busker before you have a chance to even register what he is doing. You pause in the middle of the street, pulling your coat tighter to your body and watching as Jungkook and the young man with the guitar talk in hushed tones. The busker's eyes eventually light up and he shakes Jungkook's hand before the song he was previously playing is forgotten and replaced by a soft, melodic tone that you've never heard before.

  When Jungkook turns back around to face the crowd, he looks nervous. You immediately know what he's going to do, and your heart races at the idea of it; you've heard him sing before. Some mornings he'll call you just so you can keep him company as he goes through his daily routine, and you sit back and listen to him hum as he brushes his teeth, belts out solos as he picks out his outfit for the day. You've heard him sing, but never like this, and you aren't sure why the idea of it excites you so much.

  He doesn't bother with an introduction to the song. He just looks at you once, closes his eyes and starts singing, and suddenly the rest of the crowd no longer exists.

  The little girl crying over her fallen ice cream no longer exists. The bickering couple beside you no longer exists. The dog barking in impatience no longer exists, and the only sound you can hear is Jungkook's soft voice flittering through the busy crowd, meeting your ears as if he's singing for you and only you.

  The lights bring it all together. They shine behind him, illuminating the gold streaks in his hair, the outline of his jaw that has absolutely no right to be as sharp as it is. His body sways back and forth, and even though he's wearing the worlds biggest coat, zipped right up to his chin, you can still imagine his Adams apple bobbing every time he stops for a breath.

  This is Jungkook in his natural element. This is where he's meant to be, where he worked so hard to be. For years, the both of you had always joked that he was a video game obsessive, that he was most comfortable in front of the computer, or PlayStation, or xBox just losing himself in a world that wasn't this one – but now you feel ridiculous even pondering over such a crazy idea. This is where he belongs.

  Your throat closes over as the song does. Jungkook's voice fades away, and the eruption of cheers brings you back down to Earth. Everyone fizzles back into place, and you're suddenly overwhelmed with the unexplainable urge to break down into tears.

  Jungkook's eyes meet your own almost as soon as he opens them. You grin brightly, clapping along with the crowd and he blushes before he turns, thanks the busker and makes his way over to you. Almost as soon as he is in front of you, he takes your hands in his and pulls you close.

  “You look freezing. I should have kept us moving.”

  “What song was that?” you ask, pulling away to look up at him.

  He frowns. “You liked it?”

  “I loved it,” you reply. “What song was it?”

  “It's called Promise. My friend Jimin wrote it.”

  “It was beautiful,” you say before you can stop yourself. Jungkook's blush grows more prominent, looking down to the floor in his attempts to hide it, but you can see right through it. You grin, place a hand on his neck and say, “I'd like to hear you sing some more.”

   His eyes meet your own. For a moment, you think you've gone too far. His brows are furrowed, and he's silent for a moment longer than you're comfortable with, but he eventually grins and nods. “Of course.”

  ---

  The first day of work is a hectic one.

  The first few pages of the catalogue arrive on your doorstep at seven am sharp, followed shortly by a frantic phone call from Mr Bang Shi Hyuk, who you met a week ago and have still yet to hear talk in a normal tone. He's always busy, always bustling round his office, and you're certain you've never gotten through a phone call  without him having to put you on hold to scold someone. This morning, his frantic call has an undertone of desperation to it as he asks you to get the freshly edited pages back to him by five pm – definitely not an impossible goal, but you know you won't be taking any breaks today.

  And so, you set up camp at your kitchen table and get to work as soon as the coffee kicks in. Bundled in your fluffy dressing gown and a pair of slippers, you sip idly on different beverages, red pen in hand, glasses perched on the end of your nose. You order some food from a nearby delivery place, dig into it with one hand whilst the other continues to glide across the pages, correcting typos and sentences until everything sounds smooth.

  You reach an area of the catalogue that describes Bangtan Sonyeondan, and put it to the side for later. You don't want to think about Jungkook right now – well, you do, but it probably won't be for the best. Any time you see something that reminds you of him, you want to stop, snap a picture of it and send it to him via your stupid little Whatsapp group – that is time wasted, and you can't afford it right now.

  Seven am turns into four pm, turns into five pm, and you're stuffing the catalogue pages into the return envelope at the same time you're pulling your jacket on over your shoulders and sprinting out the door. You don't bother saying hello to the friendly door lady at the reception desk. You don't bother to check both ways before sprinting out the door and barrelling up the street towards the Big Hit building. The only thing you can focus on is the time slowly trickling away, and by the time you've crashed into the lobby of the Big Hit building, the time reads 5:01pm and you're already planning out your new CV in your head.

  You groan, sprinting up to the front desk and slapping the envelope onto it. “Here. It's here. I wasn't late. I was just -” You pant, trailing your fingers over your rain soaked hair. “Please tell Mr Bang the pages are finished.”

  The lady at the desk eyes the envelope and raises her brows, before slowly reaching forward and slipping it into the delivery bin beside her. “Thank you, Y/N. I'll email him now.”

  “Like, right now?” you push. You stand on your tip toes and try to see over the desk. “Can I see what you write? Please tell him I was on time, I was just-”

   Hands gently grip your elbow, startling you. Jungkook is grinning down at the receptionist as he pushes you away from the desk. “Don't mind us, Gertrude. We're leaving now.”

  You shrug out of his grip, spinning around when he pushes you into a nearby hallway and closes the door. He turns back to you, raising a brow that holds so many questions, but your only concern at the minute is whether or not Bang Shi Hyuk is going to receive those pages on time.

  You try to look over his shoulder. “Do you think he'll be mad at me?”

  “You weren't even late,” Jungkook replies.

  You pull your sleeve up and shove your watch in his face. “Can you see that? Five. Oh. One. He wanted them back by five, but I lost track and-”

  Jungkook reaches up and tugs on your bottom lip. The action is so unexpected that you don't even continue speaking once his hand drops back to his side – you just watch his arm swing, eyes slowly narrowing.

  “What did you just do?”

  “Tried to calm you down,” he replies. “Or shut you up. Whichever way you wanna look at it.”

  You frown, shifting your eyes to his. “I think I'm delirious. I've been sat at my kitchen table since seven this morning.”

   “So I thought,” he says. “You weren't answering my texts, or my single phone call that I so kindly wasted my lunch break to make.”

   You wince. “Sorry. I was busy.”

  He waves a dismissive hand, but the guilt is still there; Jungkook always makes time for you, no matter how busy his life gets, and you can guarantee that his schedule is a lot busier than yours on days like this. You can see it in the way the sweat clings to his baggy black shirt, the way the ends of his hair are damp.

  “Did you eat anything good today?” he asks.

  “I had some Chinese takeout.”

  “Gross. That's not good at all.”

   “It was good.” You pat your stomach for added affect. “I had fried rice, chips, egg noodles – the whole damn heap. Ate it straight out of the bag, too.”

  Jungkook crinkles his nose, and it's the most adorable thing you've ever seen. “I swear to god, I'm going to have to keep an eye on you 24/7. You're gonna end up giving yourself a heart attack.”

  “I was stress eating,” you say. “I was burning the calories by stressing. It's like I haven't even eaten.”

   Jungkook rolls his eyes, loops his arm through yours and starts down the hallway. You follow him, a new-found skip in your step that it seems only Jungkook can rattle into your system.

  He leads you right to the training room, where the rest of Bangtan are busy doing absolutely nothing. They lounge around, some of them laying on the floor, others sitting on spinny chairs that have absolutely no reason to be there. Namjoon is leaned against the wall; if you weren't careful enough, you'd mistake him for a house lamp.

  “Look who arrived,” Jungkook announces, shoving you into the room. The other boys chorus out a “Hi Y/N,” before going back to their exhausted scrollings of social media. “One minute late.”

  Jimin fake gasps. “Fired!”

  “Don't even joke,” you grunt, slumping down next to Taehyung on the floor. He leans over and shows you his phone screen, and you immediately take over his game of Angry Birds. He lets his head drop back to the floor and his eyes promptly close, as if he had just been waiting for someone to take over his game so he could go to sleep.

  “Hard day?” Namjoon asks.

  You shrug. “Stressful day.”

  “But at least you made it. Did you edit the pages Mr Bang sent you?” Seokjin asks.

  “Barely,” you reply, and Jungkook scoffs, kicking your foot.

  “You're being too hard on yourself. One minute late isn't a big deal – Mr Bang probably won't even get to reading them before he goes home tonight.”

  “So why did the little bastard make me run down here to get them to him by five?” You raise a brow at Jungkook. “Answer me that, Oh Great One.”

  “Because.” Jungkook sits down beside you, crossing his legs. “Having a deadline looks more professional than just telling you to get them in by the end of the day.”

  “Can someone tell him that I don't care about professional?”

  Seokjin sighs. “I've been trying to tell him that for years, Y/N. So far, no luck.”

  You groan, the sound mingling with the angry chipper of a bird who has just failed to knock down a house full of tiny green piglets.

  “It's done now, anyway,” Hoseok chimes in. He's barefoot again, his Balenciagas thrown carelessly to the side. “I say you celebrate.”

  “Mm. I could always order more Chinese food-”

  “Nope!” Jungkook exclaims. “Nope, nope, no. No more Chinese food.”

  You frown. “Who made you the devil incarnate this evening?”

  “You're gonna make yourself sick,” he says. “Celebrate some other way.”

  “I wish we could join you, but I'm exhausted,” says Yoongi.

  You wave a dismissive hand. “Don't worry. I am too, buddy. I'll probably just go home and get an early night.” You shoot Jungkook a glance. “Play a bit of Minecraft.”

  His eyes light up, a tiny smile twitching on his face that he tries to hide by ducking his head down and messing idly with the drawstrings of your grey sweatpants; you didn't even realise you were wearing them. You were too busy trying to leave the house to actually pay attention to your appearance.

  “Sounds like a night made for an elderly person,” says Jimin. “Right up your alley.”

  You throw Hoseok's Balenciaga at him.

  ---

  GoldenJeon is active, and you're ready to absolutely destroy him.

  Gathering snacks and a drink of water (healthy), you settle by your laptop and start playing. The two of you agreed to meet up on a server called The Hunger Games, in which the players are put against each other until there is only one remaining player – for years, you and Jungkook have squabbled over this game, making it much more dramatic than it needs to be, but it's all for the right reasons. Jungkook will call you in the middle of the game, speaking through gritted teeth, warning you not to jump out at him because he knows you're prowling around the corner, just waiting for him to drop his guard. Neither of you even pay attention to the other players; if another player kills you, Jungkook kills them. It's how it works. You're Jungkook's only goal, and he is yours.

  Jungkook calls you after the ten minute mark. Whilst he speaks through clenched teeth, you speak through a mouthful of marshmallow.

  “Just tell me where you are, you piece of shit,” he demands.

  “Ask me nicely.” On your screen, his tiny block player is busy scrambling through some chests. It would be so easy to sneak up on him, stab him whilst he's too busy looting for gear, but you stay back.

  “Y/N, I swear to god, you're giving me anxiety,” he replies. “Just tell me where you are. I promise I won't kill you.”

  “Aren't you sweet.”

  “So?”

 “I'm not telling you where I am.” You equip your player with your new weapon. “But I just want you to know that I've just found a diamond sword with full strength still on it, so I'd watch out.”

  Jungkook groans. “I hate you. I hate this game. I hate that you're so good at this fucking game.”

  “You spend too much time worrying,” you say. “As soon as the map loads, you're trying to get away from me. Why don't you actually try and figure out where I'm going before you run off in the other direction?”

  “Because if I stay close to you, you'll kill me!”

   “That's the point!”

  Jungkook groans again, and you can imagine him tugging on the blanket he always has wrapped round his shoulders when he's on his laptop. “You need to cut me some slack.”

  “You've been looting plenty of chests recently, Mr JK. It'll be easy for you to just find me and kill me.”

   Jungkook pauses. “How did you know I was looting chests?”

  You grin. “A hunch?”

  “You son of a bitch.” His character spins around and looks directly at you. You let out a squeak of surprise at the same time Jungkook gasps, but you don't give him mercy. You dive out of your hiding place and slam the space button so many times your finger starts to hurt from the pressure; your character bashes Jungkook's character with their fancy new diamond sword until eventually the words GoldenJeon has left the server appear on the bottom of the screen.

  “Y/N!” he cries out. “You didn't even-”

  “I won, is what I did,” you holler, throwing your arms in the air, doing a little dance on your mattress. “I won again, I won again, I won again.” You put your hands back to the keyboard. “Another game before we go to sleep?”

  “No, you know what?” He sounds stern, and you're no longer sure whether to continue the teasing. “No. This is totally unfair. I'm on my way over.”

   You freeze, not sure whether you heard him right. “You're what, sorry?”

  You can already hear him shuffling around on the other side of the phone, probably grabbing his coat, or maybe a baseball bat. “I'm coming over. Get the kettle on, by the way. I have to walk, and it's fucking freezing.”

  “Jungkook, it's twelve am,” you hiss. “Stay where you are or so help me-”

  “See you in five minutes, you little traitor!” And then he hangs up, leaving you in a sudden state of panic.

  Whatever triumph you'd felt at winning the game has melted away and been replaced by an immediate sense of urgency. You jump out of bed, blankets flying left, right and centre. You don't bother going for your wardrobe – Jungkook has seen you in your pyjamas plenty of times before (thank you, Skype). Instead, you head directly for the kitchen, slapping the kettle on on your way past before you busy yourself with tidying up the mess you'd made this afternoon. Broken pens and pencils scatter the table; old takeout boxes litter the counter; your washing up basket is filled to the brim. You quickly toss a pair of underwear under the fridge and hope to God Jungkook doesn't decide to go snooping.

  You've barely emptied the bin before the door to your apartment is opening and Jungkook is suddenly there, in all of his fucking glory, with the most hard expression you've ever seen. You swivel up, drop the bag and say, “If you're here to kill me, I want you to know that it was all fun.” You pause. “But I still beat your ass in that game.”

  Jungkook rolls his eyes, and before you can process what is going on, he's crossed the threshold of your living room and is standing right in front of you. He wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you into him, startling you enough for a squeak to escape your throat.

  Jungkook leans down, his lips so close to your ear, your throat, the hinge of your jaw and suddenly you want to drag him into you and lose yourself in that warmth you were lusting over only a few weeks prior.

  “I've never been able to do this before,” he says, voice gruff.

  “D-do what? Kill me?”

  He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, and Jesus take the wheel, you've had it.

  “I've never been able to just come over to your house when I want to.” If it's possible, his voice is even lower. “Never been able to call you a son of a bitch to your face, because you should have told me where you were.” He nips your collar bone. If the world wasn't spinning fast enough already, it sure is now.

  You grip the counter behind you, breathing heavy. You want to continue the teasing, to make light of this situation, but your head is running at a thousand miles per hour and holy fuck is this really GoldenJeon holding you like this?

  “Jungkook, what are you doing?” you ask, breathless.

  He stops, detaching his teeth from your throat but he doesn't move away. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No!” You're eager, and that much is clear in your words. “No, please don't. I just want to know why.”

  “As I said,” he says, leaning down to bare his teeth against your flesh again, “I've never been able to do this before.”

  “I didn't know you wanted to.”

  “Then you're very, very oblivious.”

  “Not as oblivious as you. That's probably why I was able to kill you fifteen minutes into the first match.”

  He growls. His hand snaps down and grabs the back of your thigh, hitching your leg onto his hip. You squeal, tossing your head back just as he lifts you up and props you up on the counter. You bang your head against the cupboard. Jungkook pulls back, eyes wide with that concern you know so well, but you don't let him spoil the moment. You grab onto the back of his neck and drag him forward, slamming your lips against his before you lose your god damn mind.

  Because that's what it feels like. All of this is so sudden, so unexplainable and strange, but you're going to be driven absolutely insane if it doesn't continue. Your stomach clenches. You swallow his breathy pants, acknowledge how his lips twist, how his hands hesitate before he finally clamps them on your thighs and slowly drags them up until they're teasing the waistband of your unflattering pyjama trousers.

  “Shy little Jungkook,” you whisper into his mouth. “So confident a few seconds ago, and now you can barely touch me.”

   “Where do you want me to touch you?” he asks.

  The question hits you like a ton of bricks. Your eyes flutter closed. His mouth trails hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw as he waits for your reply, but you're not sure you can gather enough air to give him one at this moment in time.

  His grip tightens on your thighs. Your legs jerk, but he holds you down. “Tell me where you want me to touch you, Y/N.”

  “Everywhere,” is your reply, because you can't think of one specific body part this is burning hotter than the others. “Just – Just stop messing around.”

  Jungkook chuckles. His tongue darts out, dabs at the hinge of your jaw before disappearing, and you want to scream with how slow he's taking this, like he's savouring every moment even though you're trying to scoot closer to him, trying to capture his lips with yours again.

  “Do you want me to touch you here?” He curls his fingers around your leg, his fingertips moulding into the flesh on your inner thigh.

  You shake your head, pursing your lips. “Somewhere else.”

   He raises a brow, slowly lifts his hand to your mouth. His thumb scrapes along your lower lip, and you resist the urge to do that thing you've seen in movies where the girl sucks the mans thumb into their mouth – is that even considered attractive in real life?

  “What about here?”

  “Not good enough.”

  He tilts his head, starts to smirk. His hand drops from your lips, glides along your chin and disappears into the front of your pyjama top. “Here?”

  He's not close enough. Your only response is a strangled groan, to which Jungkook laughs and slips his hand lower, lower, lower until his fingers are moulding the area you need to him to be.

  You groan, tilting your head back when his hand traces the underside of your breasts. “Fucking hell, Jungkook, took you long enough.”

  He leans forward and kisses you. It's desperate. Now that he's heard your response to his hands, he can't get enough. He wants to please you. He wants to take this as far as he can, and he shows this by hitching both your legs around his waist, picking you up and stumbling from the kitchen.

  “Where's the bedroom?” he asks, breathless.

  You point in the general direction he's referring to before pressing your lips to his. No more talking. He could stumble into the bathroom for all you cared, and you'd have him in the bathtub with absolutely no complaints.

  It's your luck that he kicks open the bedroom door and presses you into the mattress. His lips detach from yours for only a second as he strips off his shirt and you strip off yours; he gawks down at your exposed chest, shakes his head and says, “No bra?”

  “It's midnight,” you say. “I haven't had a bra on since seven pm.” You grab his shoulders and pull him on top of you. “Now please stop talking.”

  He laughs, peppering kisses along your jaw that leave you squirming and warm and satisfied. If he were to just spend the entire night kissing you, you'd go to sleep in bliss. His lips work like electric shocks, startling you every time he makes contact, every time his tongue slips from his mouth and joins with your flesh. You feel hickeys burn into your skin, but you don't worry about them now because God, you're too far gone. Tomorrow doesn't exist. It's tonight and only tonight, and it's you and Jungkook and everyone else can go the fuck to hell for all you care.

  He whispers in your ear. His voice is rough. The soft spoken, excitable boy you used to talk to on the phone every night has melted away into something ravenous and hungry, and his hips are grinding into yours with only his jeans and your pyjama trousers as a barrier, until there is no longer a barrier and it's just bare skin against bare skin.

  He asks if you're ready. You say you are. He asks if you're sure, and you say you've never been more sure about anything in your entire life, and in that moment, you mean it. He kisses you, and it isn't the kiss you give someone on a one-night-stand. It's soft, holding memories and feelings and his body slides against your own and your groans contaminate each others mouths. You get loud; Jungkook gets greedy. You beg for more, and Jungkook tells you you're doing so well, so, so well. You unravel in each others arms. Jungkook falls to the side of you, nuzzles his head in your sweaty neck and you hold him so close because you don't want this moment to end.

  “Tomorrow isn't real,” you whisper into his hair. He nods his agreement, panting against your flesh. His breath tickles your new hickeys. You reach up, press your fingers into the forming bruise.

  Jungkook presses a soft kiss to the skin. He's loopy. You look down and see that tired smile playing on his face, the sweat drenched ends of his bangs hanging in his eyes. He shuffles up the pillows, wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest.

  You don't think he realises what he's saying when he whispers “I love you,” into your hair.

  You look up. His eyes are closed, his breathing even. Jungkook is peaceful, but his words play on a loop in your head for the rest of the night.

  ---

  When you wake up, Jungkook is nowhere to be found.

  Your heart immediately lurches into your throat; this can't be happening. You know Jungkook well enough to know that he would never just use someone like that before taking off – so he's either parading around your house, or he's dead.

  You slowly sit up, tucking the quilt under your arms in a pointless attempt at sparing your dignity. The sheets are stained with sweat and . . . other stuff, and you internally groan at the idea of having to wash them; your new washing machine is complicated enough with clothes.

  You make a promise that you'll deal with them later before slipping out of bed and tugging your dressing gown on. You slip into a pair of slippers and head downstairs.

  Immediately you are greeted by the welcoming scent of cooking bacon. It's only when you walk into the kitchen and glance at the clock do you realise what time it is.

  “Six am?” you mutter, startling Jungkook. He stands by the hob, swaying his hips to a song that is playing softly from his phone.

  He spins around, face lighting up at the sight of you, even though you're certain you look nothing short of bedraggled right now. Whilst he looks fresh as a daisy in a black shirt that is tucked lazily into a pair of belted blue jeans, your hair is knotted and your breath stinks, and you have absolutely no qualms about any of it.

  “Apparently,” Jungkook replies. “I was hoping to make you breakfast in bed.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” you say. “But also, you're a guest. You shouldn't have to make breakfast.” To prove your point, you grab the tongs out of his hand and nudge him with your hip. He chuckles, giving you the benefit of the doubt by over dramatically stumbling out of your way. You roll your eyes and start poking at the mostly cooked bacon.

  “At least now you'll be able to say you helped,” Jungkook says.

  You grin. “I'm nothing if not completely useless.”

  “Only sometimes.” He presses a kiss to the back of your neck, and it is this movement that brings you back to last night; the kissing, the sex, sharing a bed.

  The I love you.

  You'll be damned if you bring that up to him, though, because judging by the look on his face, he doesn't even remember saying it. He sways around the kitchen like he's lived there his whole life, a goofy smile on his face that has your chest constricting, because you're fairly certain it's you that has put that smile on his face. He grabs two plates from the cupboard above your head and lays them on the counter, before he goes back to watching as you poke the bacon.

  “How do you know when it's done?” you ask.

  Jungkook blinks. “It's been done for a good two minutes. I thought you just liked yours crispy.”

  You hiss, quickly turning the hob off. “You could have said something!”

    “Give it here.” He takes the pan from you and starts scooping the bacon onto the plate. You follow suit, grabbing the bowl of scrambled eggs he'd prepared earlier and adding a decent amount to each plate. Jungkook then spoons the beans and adds the toast to the side, and the two of you are prepared.

  You eat on the sofa, because of course you do.

  Jungkook eats bent over his plate. You don't know why you notice this, or why you're so intrigued by something so small, but you struggle to take your eyes off him. He presses the edge of the plate into his chest and bends forward, his eyes not leaving the TV as he struggles to rip a bit of fat from his bacon.

   You watch his Adams apple bob, remembering the feel of it beneath your lips. You regret not trailing your fingers along the column of his throat. You regret not unravelling him, completely taking over in the way you so desperately want to now; you had been so caught up in the logistics of what was happening that you didn't take a moment to focus on what you wanted to do; you realise now that you want to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head. You want to see him come apart.

  You swallow thickly and turn back to the TV, cheeks burning. You need to remind yourself that you have other things to worry about besides what happened last night; the work hasn't just stopped because Jungkook decided it was a good time to show up and completely ravish you.

  Jungkook finishes his breakfast before you. As he nibbles on the last remaining bites of his toast, he turns and glances down at your plate; it's nearly empty, and yet he still raises a brow. “You feeling okay?”

  Your eyes shoot up. “Yes. Why wouldn't I be?”

  Jungkook stares at you for a moment longer, urging you to tell him the truth. When you look back down at your plate and ignore his seemingly endless gaze, he sighs, sets his plate down on the coffee table before shuffling closer to you. “Is this about last night?”

  You let out a breath. “I really thought you weren't gonna bring that up.”

  “Do you want me to leave it?”

  “No!” You grab his arm. “No, Jungkook, of course not. I really think we need to talk about it, but I just . . . I wanna know your feelings on it first.”

  Jungkook narrows his eyes, tracing the lines of your face, the same trail he traced with his fingers last night. “I thought I made my feelings pretty obvious, considering I was the one who initiated it in the first place.”

  “That doesn't mean anything,” you murmur, looking down. “I could have been bad at it, you know.”

  A noise not unlike a croak escapes Jungkook's throat. It slowly morphs into a laugh, his hand coming down upon your knee and squeezing.

  When you don't join the laughter, his smile fades and he stares at you. “Wait. You're not serious, are you?”

  You throw your hands up in frustration. You hadn't even realised this train of thought was so prominent in the back of your head, but there's no denying it now. “Look, all of it was very unexpected. I didn't have time to – like – practice my strategy or anything.”

  “You didn't need to-”

  “Yes, I know that, but it would have helped,” you hiss, before groaning and slumping back against the plush sofa cushions. Your plate remains abandoned on the coffee table. Jungkook looks down at it, picks up a piece of bacon and takes a bite.

  “I definitely came.”

  He says it so casually that you very nearly miss what he's said at all. Your eyes burst open, cheeks burning with this news that isn't really news because you know what happened – you were there. You made it happen.

  “You made it happen,” Jungkook continues, as if reading your mind. “And you definitely came.”

  “Oh god.”

  Jungkook grins. “I think I have the qualifications to vouch for that.”

  “You're a dick.”

  His grin only grows. He leans over and presses a kiss to the space just below your ear; you hiss and pull away, hand snapping up to trace the edge of the hickey you'd forgotten was there. Jungkook pushes the hair from your shoulder and lightly touches it, biting his bottom lip to fight off the smile that is surely threatening to show on his face.

  “Lovely,” he says.

  “I'm gonna have to cover this now,” you grumble. “Do you know how difficult it is covering a hickey?”

  “No, considering you didn't give me any.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I'm missing out.”

  “Poor baby.”

  He shrugs, swings his legs round and stands up. He grabs the plates off the coffee table and starts towards the kitchen, but not before saying a casual, “We'll try again next time,” that hangs in the air even as the sound of the tap water shatters the delicate silence.

  You grin, biting down on your bottom lip. Butterflies are attacking your stomach. Memories of last night are lodged in your brain, and you know for a fact that there is absolutely no way in hell you'll be getting any decent work done today.

  ---

  Jungkook leaves for the dorms at seven. On his way out the door, he bends down and picks up a thick yellow envelope, handing it to you.

  “I think that might be the new catalogue pages,” he says.  

  You hollow out you cheeks, taking the envelope from him and tossing it carelessly over your shoulder. “Tell Mr Bang I'll get it to him as soon as possible.”

  “Mm, no,” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Then the old man will know I've been here overnight, and that is awfully suspicious.”

  Despite knowing this would be the case, your heart still quivers a little. You hide it by rolling your eyes and ushering him out the door. “Fine then. Leave the hard work to me. You go and prance around your practice room for a few hours, and call me as soon as you get a chance.”

  Jungkook spins, planting his hands on the door frame. “One more kiss?”

  You narrow your eyes. “You're gonna be that guy.”

  “I believe this is called the Honeymoon Phase.” He kisses you, small and soft but it ignites something in you you've never felt before. Jungkook feels it, grins against your mouth before slowly pulling away and clicking his forehead against your own. “I'll see you later, yeah?”

  “We'll see,” you whisper, before you grip his waist and spin him round. “Now go! I'm not being the reason you're late.”

  “Alright, alright. Tell me how you really feel.” His voice and laughter fade into nothingness as he disappears down the hallway. You watch him leave, gripping the collar of your dressing gown like some kind of wife sending their husband off to war. You only turn and head back into your apartment when you hear the lift ding closed.

  ---

  You love your job. You really do. There is a power that comes with correcting other peoples mistakes, and you are not ashamed to admit that you have been thriving off it from the moment you picked up that red pen and started slashing marks into the pages.

  But this is a whole different ball game.

  You're hunched over your kitchen table, your third cup of coffee half-empty beside you, doing nothing to help the exhaustion. Your body is slowly beginning to realise that you were not made for being woken up at six am. Your muscles are sore, and your eyes are getting tired before you've even gotten through the fifth page of edits.

  You lean back, scraping a hand through your unwashed hair that is still sweaty from last nights mishaps. You told yourself you would take a break to clean up and pull yourself together, because going another day in this state is going to drive you to breaking point, and yet three pm is rolling around and you have yet to move from your kitchen table.

  The pages are littered with images of Jungkook. With Bangtan being the only group involved with Big Hit at the minute, they're using their maknae's adorable smile and doe eyes to the best of their abilities. It makes your job ten times more difficult, as you have to stop every few seconds to send a picture of Jungkook's face to your Whatsapp group with a teasing caption that Jungkook always chooses to ignore in favour of asking you how you're getting on.

  Not good, you want to tell him, but you don't. He's working just as hard as you; it would be cruel to distract him with your own pointless stresses.

  And so you lose yourself in the world of literature for a few more hours, until the last page is glaring up at you and your hand is cramping, and you're refilling the ink on your sixth red pen. Five pm rolls around, and once again you're shrugging your jacket on and bolting down the street towards the Big Hit building.

  Mr Bang is standing in the lobby.

  You freeze, one hand braced against the glass door, the other clutching the envelope tight to your chest; well, this is most unexpected. Though you and Mr Bang have spoken on numerous occasions these past few weeks, most of those conversations were had via phone call. You had convinced yourself that the small man in front of you lived in his office.

  He turns when you enter, immediately smiling an oddly cute smile that lights up his whole face and crinkles his dark brown eyes. He nudges his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and steps towards you.

  “I was just about to call and ask where you were,” he says.

  You shove the envelope in his direction. “All done!”

   “Great, great.” He tucks the envelope into his coat pocket. You resist the need to wince; he better not crinkle those god damn pages, or so help you- “The edits aren't the only reason I was looking for you, though.”

  Your brain short circuits, and you aren't even sure why.

  Today has honestly been the day from hell. Your head aches, and your hand is cramped, and all you want to do right now is curl up on your sofa with a glass of wine and drink everything away. Instead, you place a smile on your face and say, “Oh?”

  Mr Bang sighs, looks around as if checking for anyone eavesdropping before he steps closer to you and lowers his voice. “Have you and Jungkook fallen out?”

  Okay. That certainly wasn't what you'd been expecting.

  You raise a brow, flicking a glance over the big boss's shoulder. Gertrude quickly lowers her head, pretending she hasn't heard anything, but it's obvious in the tilt of her head and the shy little smile on her face that she knows exactly what Mr Bang is asking about.

  You look back at him. “I don't – I don't think so. Why?”

  “Well, I told him I was going to offer you a job in one of the offices here so you don't have to keep running back and forth from your apartment,” he says. “Jungkook told me not to.”

  It takes a minute for you to untangle what all of this means. It's the most absurd thing you've ever heard. It doesn't make any sense, because you and Jungkook slept together and he held you, and he said he loved you and there's no way in hell all of that changed in the space of a few hours.

  But Mr Bang is serious. His eyes shift to the floor when you stay silent, and you watch as he slowly sucks in a breath.

  “I don't like it when my employees go against each other,” he says. “I asked Jungkook if everything was alright and he refused to tell me anything. He's young, so I didn't push him, figured I'd let him figure it all out on his own. But I just want you to know that whatever this feud is – you can't let it get in the way of your work.”

   “There is no feud,” you burst out. “I mean, not really. Nothing you need to be worrying yourself with, anyway.”

  Mr Bang's eyes light up. “Really? That's fantastic, Y/N. How about you come and join us for dinner then?”

  Before, the idea would have lit something inside you. The idea of sitting beside Jungkook and laughing with your friends would have excited you to no end, but you replay Mr Bang's words on a continuous loop and find yourself unable to gather that same excitement.

  You stuff your hands into the pockets of your jacket and say, “I think I'm gonna have to pass. I'm exhausted.”

  Mr Bang nods as if he understands. “Of course. I'll send the next few pages over tomorrow, then. Get some rest, Y/N.”

  You turn on your heel and exit the building. It feels permanent. You want it to be permanent. You want to walk to your apartment, pack up your stuff and never come back. You feel like a teenager, moping over some boy, suddenly willing to change the directory of life just because this certain someone slipped up and hurt your feelings.

  But that emotion is there. You grip the material of your pockets and inhale the cold air of Seoul, ducking your head down in case anyone were to notice your gritted teeth.

  ---

  It's nearly eleven when the knock echoes through your apartment.

  You're draped across the sofa, a glass of wine in your hand, the TV blaring re-runs of Friends. You've been sneering at Ross Geller for the past three hours, and quite frankly, you are in no mood to be disrupted.

  You stay silent and hope the visitor takes the hint.

  It's never that easy, though.

  The knock sounds again. And again. On repeat until you eventually throw your head back and push yourself off the sofa. You slam your glass of wine down and barrel towards the door, throwing it open to reveal GoldenJeon in all his glory.

  Your drunken state wants to spit on him.

  He's grinning from ear to ear, hands in his pockets, hair a tussled mess. Even in your state of tipsiness, you still reach out and flatten a strand against his temple; you pull your hand back just as quick, tucking it under your armpit as if to restrain yourself from touching him further.

  He frowns when he sees the state you're in. You have no idea what you look like, but you're purposefully scowling to the best of your ability, arms folded, the glass of wine bright and full on your coffee table – it wouldn't take a genius to figure out just what is going through your mind right now.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Why are you here?” you demand. “I didn't invite you.”

  Jungkook's frown deepens. A crease forms between his eyebrows. “Since when did I need an invite?”

  “Since you started showing up uninvited and interrupting my relaxation time.” You try to slam the door on his face, but he wedges his foot between the frame and pushes it open again.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, poking his head through the tiny gap he's created. “Are you gonna explain to me what the hell is going on?”

  “No. Go away.”

  “I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're mad.”

  “I'll literally call the police.”

  “No you won't.”

  You purse your lips, turn on your heel and B-Line towards your cell phone. Jungkook shoves the door open and follows after you. You pick up the phone, but Jungkook is quicker; his fingers curl around your wrist and it is with barely any effort that he plucks the phone from your hand and tosses it onto the couch. He keeps your wrist in his grip, staring down at you with a set of eyes that – any other day – would have you pouncing on him in two seconds flat.

  “Let go of me,” you say.

  He does.

  “And get out.”

  “I'm so confused right now. I thought we were okay.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Is this about last night?”

  You groan. “For crying out loud, Jungkook, I'm drunk. Why can't you just take the hint and piss off?”

  He flinches. There's a tiny glimmer inside you that wants to apologise, wrap your arms around him and tell him you didn't mean it, but then you hear Mr Bang's voice in your head and your senses draw back to you.

  “You didn't join us for dinner,” he says. It's almost a subject change. Again, you want to spit on him.

  “I don't think you'd have been too happy if I showed up,” you reply. You take another swig of your wine. “Apparently you only really like me when I'm underneath you.”

   Jungkook's eyes widen. His hands twitch by his side, and he reaches up to deftly rub at this throat. “What are you talking about? You know that's not true.”

  “So why don't you want me working in the same building as you?”

  There is no way to make that sentence sound intimidating, no way to get your anger across without sounding childish and needy; you and Jungkook spent one night together. If he thought it was a mistake, you would respect that – but he didn't need to cut you off from your work, didn't need to come crawling back when he was in the mood. If he found regret in last nights endeavours, it would be so much more merciful if he just left you alone.

  His face softens. It's an expression of realisation, the fact that he's been caught out dawning on him. It's enough to make tears rise to the surface, and you blame the wine but it builds in your chest, grabs at your throat. Jungkook sees it – he lurches forward. You don't even fight when he wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you into his chest, his chin taking perch on the top of your head.

  “No,” he says. “No, I didn't mean it like that. Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. I said it to protect you.”

    “Protect me?” You jump away from him, stumbling but managing to catch yourself on the sofa at the last moment. “How could that protect me?”

  “We're not meant to have what we have,” he says, running his hands through his hair. He's trying not to touch you. You're trying not to throw yourself into his arms.

  “What is that, Jungkook?” you ask. “What do we have that is so special? Because last time I checked, all we've done is slept together and played a few rounds of Minecraft.”

   “That's not true. We've got more than that. You're more than that.”

  You grit your teeth, turning on your heel. Your wine sloshes, drenches your wrist but you don't even care. It triggers you to take another swig, then another, and another until the glass is empty. “You know what? I don't think I wanna play this game. I've never let a man dictate how a relationship works, and I'm not about to do it now.”

  Jungkook groans. “I'm not dictating-”

  “Telling your boss to keep me off the fucking premises so you can keep our friends-with-benefits subtle-”

  “And we're not friends-with-benefits!” Jungkook steps forward, grabbing your wrist before you can reach for the bottle of wine. You glare at him, hoping and praying that your eyes look menacing enough right now; you want him to know how angry you are. You want him to see how bad he's hurt you.

  His eyes trace your own. He's looking for forgiveness, but you won't give it to him. His lower lip trembles and he sucks it between his teeth.

  “I don't want us to be friends-with-benefits,” he whispers, fingers still curled round wrist. “I got carried away last night, but I didn't show up just to have a quickie and then leave. I want – I want more.”

  You stare back at him, unsure of what to say. There are so many responses that are playing on the tip of your tongue, but none of them seem right. Not when his eyes look like that. Not when he slowly leans forward and presses a kiss to the flesh just beneath your ear – right over a hickey he sucked into your skin the night before.

  You shiver, wrist sliding out of his suddenly slack grip.

  “Tell me if you want more,” he whispers.

  You close your eyes, tilting your head to the side. Your drunk and angry and turned on, and at this point it's too late to turn back. You do want more – you want it all. You want everything he is offering, but you know better.

  You step away from him. He looks at you, analyses the way you're standing, the way you fold your arms over your chest because you're so scared you'll crack again, so scared you'll reach out and touch him and lose yourself entirely.

  “I want you to leave,” you croak out. The words are acidic. They're a betrayal, but you have to say them.

  Jungkook's features harden. He looks down at the ground, brushes his foot against the carpet only once before he nods and says, “So that's it then? There's nothing I can do to make this better.”

    “You can't expect me to like this arrangement,” you reply. “I'm not sneaking around with you. I've got too much going on as it is without stressing over being caught with you.”

   Jungkook nods, but you're not entirely sure he understands. Maybe he hides a ton of stuff from Mr Bang. Maybe sneaking around is his forte, but you haven't had as much experience as him in this line of work. You're not ready to put your entire career on the line to be with someone who clearly doesn't care about you enough to want a real relationship.

  And god the thought hurts. The realisation hurts. Before, you failed to realise just how much of an integral role Jungkook played in your life, but looking at him now and knowing it will be the last time you'll ever be able to talk to him like a normal human being – it breaks something inside you. Little fourteen year old Y/N L/N is screaming in the back of your head, asking you what the hell you're doing.

  You push them away.

  Jungkook says nothing when he turns and walks out the door. He doesn't look back at you, barely utters a goodbye. He certainly doesn't apologise. He leaves you numb, watching the door swing closed behind him. You listen to the lift opening, closing, going down. You force yourself to stay rooted to the spot, resisting the urge to scramble to the window so you can watch him cross the car park.

  You have to let yourself believe that he is nothing more than another chapter in your life – necessary for your story, but you have to move on to know the conclusion.

  ---

  The pages are getting few and far between.

  Months have passed. You still see Jungkook everyday, but it's not how it was. He doesn't smile when he sees you. He doesn't text you to find out if you got home safe. If he can avoid looking at you at all, that is exactly what he does.

  In the beginning, you didn't want things to be awkward. You smiled at him, asked Yoongi if he was okay, made sure to check up on him when you could, but it got tiring after a while and you lost the motivation eventually. Jungkook wasn't giving you the same enthusiasm, so you no longer saw a point in trying.

  It's your last few days in Seoul. You can feel the end approaching, even though none of the Bangtan boys nor Mr Bang himself wants to admit it. Mr Bang lengthens the deadlines on your edits just to keep you around that little bit longer. The Bangtan boys invite you out for dinner, but you decline because you know Jungkook will be there and you don't want that kind of hassle.

  All in all, you are disappointed to say your last few months in Seoul have been terrible. Full of stress and avoidance, life truly did not give you an easy time of it.

  But your days are coming to an end. You stand by your bed now, looking at the packed bags. A lump grows in your throat; you swallow it down, swiping a hand beneath your eye in any attempt to hide the tears that are threatening to rise to the surface. No one is with you – it would be easy to just break down, because God only knows when you'll next get a chance, but you don't want to. Not even within the comfort of your own company. Crying means admitting you've been affected by the sudden shift in your life. Crying means admitting you got attached.

  Stupidly, obsessively attached.

  To a boy who was meant to be nothing more than a few texts on your phone screen.

  You busy yourself by reorganising everything yet again. It's the fifth time you've done it, and each time has been completely unnecessary. Your clothes are folded beautifully, your toiletries packed away, your sheets and work gear all tucked away neatly; you just need to do something. You finished the last few pages of the catalogue yesterday evening, sent them out and fled the Big Hit building before Mr Bang could make you emotional with any kind of farewell speech. You just needed out of there. Once you get back to your actual office, back home, you'll be fine. You'll be able to start over.

   It's as your reorganising that you realise you've missed something.

  How you missed it is completely beyond you, considering you've been through this five times already. You shoot up, spin around and glimpse your laptop on your desk, untouched for three days now. You've been too busy to even think about logging on and catching up with your gaming; besides, you didn't want to game. Not if Jungkook wasn't on the phone, yelling at you for the most trivial of things.

  But now seems a good a time as any.

  You slowly open it up, press your password in and wait for the Minecraft game to load up. It's ten at night, so nobody you talk to will be active; the game will be full of complete strangers, will be no fun. You'll sign out of it in a few minutes and go back to moping round your apartment, but at least you can say you've tried. It's a step in the right direction, a sign that maybe the spell Jungkook cast over you has melted away a little bit.

  You click on the server you so frequently play on, and look through the list of people active.

  GoldenJeon.

  You should delete it. The whole game, just get rid of it. It's no fun without Jungkook, but after the fight you had, it's no fun with him either. You don't want to play at all, so what's the point of even having it on your laptop?

  Despite these thoughts, the sense of them, you're unable to do anything but stare at his name. Your little character waits for the timer to start, signalling the beginning of the game, but you're not even preparing yourself for it. You're just staring at his name, blinking in gold letters.

   And then your phone chimes.

  Even though he hasn't texted you in weeks, you know it's him. You glance over, catch sight of his name, and you ask yourself why you even kept his number in the first place.

  Jungkook: Please don't surprise me this time.

  You bite your lip. That son of a bitch; he knows exactly what he's doing. He's prodding at your competitive side just to get a reaction out of you.

   But he's done it now.

   The timer counts down from three. As soon as the sirens go off, your hands are glued to the mouse and keyboard, and you're latching your view on Jungkook as his tiny little box character makes a dash directly for the woods; fool. He has no weaponry. Whilst everyone else headed straight for the chests in the centre of the map, Jungkook turned the other direction, thinking he would be doing something good by getting away whilst everyone else was distracted.

   However, you are not one of them distracted people.

   You sprint after him, even as your brain screams at you to just turn the bloody thing off and get back to being an Adult.

   You follow him deeply into the match, your phone chiming away at the side of you; it's Jungkook having a crisis, begging you to not follow him this time. You know he's only saying this because you will – you'll follow him, you'll kill his character and then you'll be reminded of the last time you did it, when Jungkook realised he could come over and yell at you in person if he so pleased.

    His character sprints through the map, gathering supplies and you follow him until he finally comes to a stop and you calculate your chances of survival if you were to just whack his head off now. You make your character crouch, duck behind a door frame as he shuffles around an abandoned house made out of bedrock (bedrock!).

   Your phone rings. You click ACCEPT without even thinking.

   “Where are you?” His voice his gravelly. It hurts to hear it.

   “Now why would I tell you that?” you ask.

    “I don't know why I never learn,” he grumbles. “You do this to me, you know. You make my head go somewhere else, and I can't use my common sense.”

   Your heart thunders. “It works in my favour, so I don't really mind.”

    “Are you gonna pop up out of nowhere again?”

  “Would you like me to?”

   Jungkook pauses. “I would. I really would.”

   “But then you'll be out of the game,” you tease. “Poor little Jungkook, losing another round of Hunger Games because he can't think straight.”

   He growls. It startles you, distracting you for a moment too long. Your eyes snap down to your phone, and you're positive it's only for a brief second, but by the time you look back up at the laptop screen, your character is being beaten bloody by GoldenJeon's stone pickaxe.

  Y/N has left the game.

  Jungkook doesn't laugh, doesn't yell in victory like you do every time you win. There's a single breath of humour-filled air before he says, “Got you.” And then he hangs up.

  You sit there, staring at the end credits and trying desperately to catch your breath; what the hell just happened? What the hell just happened?!

  He called you, is what happened. He had the nerve to pick up the phone and call you as if nothing had been going on these past few weeks, as if he hadn't ignored you, as if he hadn't completely ripped your heart from your chest and forced you to end things with him.

    You grit your teeth. This is what he wants. He wants you to play right into his hands so he can get the control back, and you're not about to let him get away with it.

   So you stand up, grab your coat and march right out the door.

   You know where the dorms are. You've been invited over more times than you can count, have broken Taehyung's heart by declining these invites, but you can't think of a better reason to make an appearance now. You shrug your coat on as you march down the street, turn the corner and head straight for the front desk.

  You're recognised and let inside almost immediately. You don't realise your relief until you're halfway up the stairs, heart thundering in your ears – this scene is so familiar. It's been reversed, but it's so familiar, and it makes your heart rate speed up to a rate you're pretty sure is considered unhealthy.

    You had won the game last time. Jungkook has marched into your apartment.

    Jungkook won the game this time. It's only fair for you to give him the same courtesy.

    You rack your knuckles against the door and wait for someone to answer. It takes two seconds, and there is nothing but undeniable relief when it's Jungkook's grinning face that appears in the doorway and nobody elses.

  You slam your hands into his shoulders and push him backwards. “You son of a bitch. I wasn't even ready!”

   Jungkook loops his arms round your waist and tugs you into him. You're so lost. You're so worked up and he looks so good, and he's just beaten you at a game you prided yourself on winning each and every time. He did it to tease you. He did it so this would happen, and you've walked right into his trap.

  But god, he smells so good, and his hair is slightly damp from a shower, and you're honestly prepared to make a fool of yourself if it means getting a glimpse of his toned torso one more time.

    “Sorry,” he says. “But I believe I won that round fair and square.”

  “You used a distraction tactic,” you hiss. “We never use a distraction tactic!”

  Jungkook raises a brow, tilting his head to the side. “I don't remember distracting you.”

   “You being on the phone at all was distracting enough.” You bundle your fists in his shirt, debate pulling him closer. You eventually decide against it and instead flatten your palms against his chest. “And then you kept making that stupid fucking noise, and I couldn't . . . I couldn't concentrate.”

   Jungkook's eyes flare. “I can't help it if you get distracted just by my voice.”

   “It wasn't your – Stop that!” You slap his chest and groan. “The point is, we need a rematch. That game wasn't fair, and you know it.”

   His hands tighten on your hips. You want to scream.

   “I really didn't take you as a sore loser,” he says.

   You scoff. “Don't act like you didn't come marching into my apartment when I won the last round.”

  That does it. The reminder settles between you, and you don't pull away even though you know you should. Jungkook's eyes – if possible – turn darker. Your breath hitches. The world is spinning too fast. You just want him to kiss you. You don't want any of this back and forth, teasing, talking in low voices – you just want him.

  You knot your hands in his shirt again. This time, you do pull him closer, but not by much. It's a little jerk that has his chest hitting lightly against your own, but he still isn't close enough for your liking.

   He inhales deeply. “I can't believe you're here after what I did.”

  You close your eyes. “We don't have to talk about that.”

  “I don't want to just sleep with you, Y/N.” He pulls away then, rakes his hands through his hair as if trying to restrain himself. “I told you on the day we argued that I don't just want to be friends-with-benefits. I want to be able to talk about things with you.”

    There are cotton balls in your mouth. It's hard to speak, so you just stare at him, hope that gets your point across.

  He bites his lip. “Is that what you want, too? Is that why you're here?”

   Is that what you want?

  On that first night, the first night Jungkook slept with you, you thought that was what you had. You'd never taken Jungkook as the type to have sex with someone and then just . . . leave, and that isn't what he did. Waking up to him cooking breakfast and his scent on your pillows felt almost natural.

  So of course you want it. You want him – not his body, but him. All of him.

    You swallow thickly and step closer. “If we're gonna make this work, we have to sort a few things out.”

   He nods too quickly, too enthusiastically. It rips your heart out of your chest. “Of course.”

  “I'm going back home in a few days,” you say, and Jungkook's hopeful expression fades. “I don't know – I don't know what that means for you. I don't know if that will make things easier. I don't know if me not physically being here will suddenly make Mr Bang let you date me, but-”

   Jungkook groans low in his throat. “I don't care about Mr Bang. I care about you.” He steps forward and cups your face with one large hand. “I made a mistake. I was so caught up in my contract that I didn't even stop to think about how Mr Bang would take my own feelings into consideration.”

   Your jaw drops, eyes snapping up. “What are you talking about?”

  “Mr Bang knows we – we talk,” Jungkook stammers.

   You step out of his grip. “He knows you went against the contract?”

  “In the beginning,” Jungkook says. “He was disappointed, but he's known me since I was fifteen. I guess he took pity on me, because I was a mess when I went into work that day and told him. I'd just reached my breaking point.”

   “And he was okay with it?”

   “As I said, he was disappointed. Thought he could trust me and all that.” Jungkook winces. You place a comforting hand on his arm, knowing how hard it must have been for him to have disappointed one of the people he looks up to. “I said I was sorry, and then he – he asked me how things between you and I were going, and I got really confused. He said it as if we were together.”

   You bite your lip. “Okay...”

   “I turned round and told him you'd ended things because you didn't want to be sneaking around, and he just looked at me like I was insane. He asked me what I was doing, told me to talk to you and then he let me have the day off.”

   You swallow the golf ball sized lump in your throat, not sure what to say but knowing for a fact that you are really gonna have to thank Mr Bang for this.

   Jungkook rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “So I went home, logged onto Minecraft to see if you were there – you weren't, but I waited.”

  “You waited.”

  “And then you came online and I took my chance.”

   “You did indeed.”

   Jungkook lowers his voice to a whisper. “And now you're here.” It's almost like he's talking to himself, even though his eyes are burning holes in your own. “You're here and you're not saying anything.”

    You don't need to say anything. There are no words that can possible portray what you're feeling right now, so you do the next best thing. It's straight out of a cheesy romance movie, but you've learned from the best and you launch yourself into his arms, kissing him with the need and desperation that has been building in your system for weeks now.

   Jungkook grunts into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist. The two of you stumble until the back of Jungkook's knees are hitting against the arm of the sofa and he's falling backwards into the plush cushions; he doesn't let go of you, and your body ends up right on top of his own.

   You kiss him again, and again, and again. Not just on the lips, but everywhere. Peppered kisses behind his ear, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth, his chin, his cheeks. Everywhere until he's giggling and trying to push you away from him.

    “You still played unfairly today,” you pant, exaggerating each word with a kiss to his forehead. “I want revenge.”

    “I'm excited to – hey! - find out how you get that revenge,” he replies, crinkling his nose up when you go to press yet another kiss there.

   His fingers are just starting to grip onto your belt loops when the door behind him opens. Jungkook's head snaps up, his hands tightening to keep you in place. Taehyung and Namjoon walk in, side-by-side, but immediately stop and raise their brows when they see the position you are currently in.

   Jungkook wriggles beneath you. You shoot upright, struggling to find your footing again. Jungkook grunts when you're forced to shove against his chest to get off the sofa. You turn to the two members of Bangtan and grin as Jungkook flops back onto the sofa and groans.

    Namjoon is the first to speak. “Hey Y/N. . . I see you took Taehyung's invitation.”

   “I did!” you exclaim, and then quieter, “I did. It's a lovely place you've got here.”

   “Apparently we've also got a lovely maknae,” Taehyung says, wriggling his brows, and Jungkook buries his head in the sofa pillows. “I always knew something was going on with you two; you're the only person I know who can distract Jungkook long enough to break him away from his work.”

   You raise a brow, flicking your eyes down to the boy in question. He peeks at you with one eye, half of his face still pressed into the cushions, and grins an embarrassed grin. You smile right back, pushing down a laugh.

   “Come on, Tae,” Namjoon chuckles. “Let's leave them alone for a bit. I think they have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Taehyung rolls his eyes, mouths Use protection before he and Namjoon turn and leave the room. You glance back at Jungkook, raise a brow.

    “He's totally lying, of course,” he assures, voice muffled.

   You chuckle and bound back onto the sofa, circling your arms round his torso and going back to pressing loving little kisses to every part of his face you can think of.

   ---

   Jungkook presses his chin into the crown of your head and sighs yet again. “You're still so tiny.”

   “I'll literally start walking home now.”

  He groans, pulling you closer to his chest. “Don't say home. You're home is meant to be with me.”

   You close your eyes and tilt your head back. It rests in the hollow of his throat. You want to live there.

   “I'll visit you,” you say, even though it's not enough. It'll never be enough. “We managed to keep in touch since we were fourteen – this isn't anything new.”

    He sighs again. “I know. We'll make it work, just like we always do.” His arms tighten on your waist. “I'm just gonna miss this, that's all. I'm gonna miss you – you in your physical form.”

  “In what way do you mean physical form, Jeon Jungkook?”

   He leans down and nips your earlobe with his teeth. “Whatever form you're offering.”

   You chuckle and shake your head, beckoning him away. He goes back to resting his chin atop your head, the two of you looking out for the train that will soon be pulling up to take you home. Your bag is packed, but Jungkook placed it a few feet away because he didn't want to admit that all of your stuff was in there – that means permanent, apparently. Packing up your stuff means there's no option to come back. Looking at your suitcase, filled to the brim with the clothes he's seen you in, the clothes he's ripped off of you, made him uncomfortable.

    “I feel like adults are meant to handle this type of thing a lot better,” he says suddenly.

   You look up; his chin slides to your forehead as he refuses to move. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugs. “Like – relationships. Love. Stuff like that. I should have grown out of my mine, mine, mine phase, but the idea of you just . . . walking away is literally ripping me open.”

    You bite your lip. “Jungkook...”

   “I get it if you don't feel the same way. I'm not asking you to.” He shrugs again, grabbing your chin and tilting your head back so he can put his chin back where he is most comfortable. “It's only been a few months and I already feel like you should just be by my side all the time.”

   “I wish I could be.”

   “You do?”

   “I don't think I've ever clicked with someone like I click with you, Jungkook. I feel just as awful about leaving.”

    He sighs. Again. If you made this into a drinking game – drink any time Jungkook sighs – you would be falling head first into the train tracks by now.

    He hugs you impossibly closer, and the two of you fall into a thoughtful silence. In the distance, the whistle of the train sounds and you close your eyes, as if in doing so, you can somehow transport somewhere far, far away, with only Jungkook to keep you company.

   But reality is a bitch, and it slaps you in the face when the train pulls up and people start piling onto the carriages.

  You turn, quickly wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing him, putting everything you can into the way your lips mould against his. He groans against your mouth – he always does – and he tightens his grip and you hope to God he just refuses to let go. You two can just live here, in this underground station, tangled in each others arms forever. You'll become statues, a part of the structure and nobody will bother you again.

   But the conductor calls a warning,and you know you have to go.

  You pull away. Jungkook's face falls, and his thumbs swipe beneath your eye. You didn't even realise you were crying until he shakes his head and says, “Soon. We'll see each other soon.”

   You nod, biting your bottom lip. You say the first thing that comes to mind, which might not be the best strategy considering this is the last thing you'll get to say for quite a while, but nonetheless, it's a perfect parting confession.

   “I love you, GoldenJeon.”

   His eyes widen. You panic, because that was certainly not what you planned on saying. He reaches towards you, but you press a final kiss to his lips, grab your suitcase and dart off towards the train only seconds before the doors close behind you.

   As the train speeds off, you turn in your seat. Jungkook is still stood on the platform, one hand raised to his lips and his eyes lowered to the floor.

    ---

  You're in your pyjamas again. Boring, stupid old pyjamas. You'd left them behind for a reason – you're wearing them now because you're trying to get back into routine. You have to be at the office tomorrow. You have to look Mr Grey in the eyes and thank him for the opportunity even though he was the one who ordered you home. You shouldn't feel angry, but you do.

  You press PLAY on your movie once again, having paused it to go and gather some ice cream and your laptop. You and Jungkook have only texted the odd time since you got home, with him claiming he wants to give you time to rest and you promising him that you were definitely, one hundred percent in bed and only seconds away from falling asleep.

   Turns out, falling asleep without Jungkook's arms around you is a lot more difficult than you'd originally anticipated.

  It's so weird. It's a phenomenon, considering you fell asleep without him your entire life. But now that you'd got a taste of just how luxurious sleep can actually feel, it's difficult to go back to square one.

   You click on the tiny little Minecraft icon and watch the screen load. It's almost instinctive when you log onto the all-too-familiar server. Again, it's much too late for Jungkook to be online – he told you he was doing some late night editing for one of his Golden Closet Videos, and you've seen him when he starts editing; he won't be looking away from that complicated editing screen for another few hours at least. His attention will be nowhere near Minecraft.

    It loads up, and of course, the little shit has lied to you.

  GoldenJeon is online.

  You narrow your eyes, hoping and praying he doesn't notice the little Y/N is online that appears in the corner.  

   But he's GoldenJeon. He notices everything.

   Your phone chimes. You wince, cautiously looking over as Jungkook's name flashes on screen.

  Jungkook: You weren't asleep for very long.

  Y/N: you weren't editing for very long.

  Jungkook: It's gonna be very difficult for me to come over and have sex if you win this match, you know. You didn't think this through.

  Y/N: i'm sure phone sex will be just as sexy.

  Jungkook: Let's give it a go.

  The match begins, and you win. It's no surprise – at this point, you're fairly certain Jungkook is just letting you win because he wants an excuse to come over.

   Or in this case, an excuse to call you.

   You pick up before the first ring is even over. Jungkook laughs at your eagerness before saying, “Miss me?”

   “More than anything. Now talk dirty.”

   “I love you.”

   You freeze.

   “Oh, did you like that one?” he teases. You can hear him grinning. You want to smother him – or kiss him. Either way, you can do neither. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

   “Jungkook-”

  “I've loved you since I was fourteen years old and you were just a weird little character on a shit, low budget game.”

   “I don't want you to talk dirty any more. Please keep making fun of me before I combust.”

  Jungkook chuckles. “Tell me you love me back.”

   “I said it first. You know I-”

   “Say it again. We're having phone sex, remember?”

   You bite your lip. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

    He inhales shakily. You can hear it, the rattle in his chest, the way he bites his bottom lip. You can imagine him tilting his head back in that way he does so often when you insist on walking downstairs in one of his shirts, or nothing at all if you're feeling particularly playful that day.

   “You're right, you know,” he whispers.

   “About?”

   “Phone sex really is just as sexy as the real thing.”

[1-1snailxd-art]

Sanders Sides Oneshot - Babysitting

This is how you beat writers block - you draw and then find your will to write afterwards.   

Characters/relationships: Logan / Virgil (analogical), Patton / Roman (Royality), Kid Thomas

Warnings: none

Words: 1511

Summary: This came about from a post by @fanartfunart and seeing as I’m trying to learn how to draw people better, I decided to challenge myself with a drawing....that drawing then turned into a little fic. FYI, I know there is a lot wrong with Logan’s proportions in the picture (I can see it), but Thomas is cute so whatever.  

_____________________________________

"Don't be such a baby, Logan." Virgil huffed, following his partner into the kitchen. "It's a kid, not a freakin' nuclear bomb."

"I know that, but..." Logan kept his back to Virgil as he absentmindedly took ingredients for dinner out of the fridge and cupboards. "I don't know anything about babysitting a child."

Watching the cook’s shoulders slump at the admission, Virgil softened his tone and moved to lean on the counter next to Logan.

"What's to know, Lo? You give him some food, easy for you, and turn on the TV. Job done." Virgil sighed when Logan didn't look away from the bowl in front of him; hands floured as he prepared a pasta dough. "Look, I only need to be in the studio for an hour at most; then I'll come straight home. You can entertain 'til I get back, right?"

"Are you sure you can't stay?"

 The tone of Virgil's phone gave him his answer as the other man quickly excused himself to take the call. It wasn't that Logan didn't like children; he just didn't think he was good for children. Honestly, he questioned daily what Virgil saw in him; a pensive, workaholic wasn't that romantic and didn't scream partner material. Patton on the other hand was destined to be a parent; they'd wanted to be one since they were kids.

The pasta dough came into shape as Logan recalled the day Patton video called them to announce they had been approved for adoption now Roman had consistent work. He'd shared in their excitement but never fully understood it. Admittedly, Logan was still hurt that Patton had moved so far away to support Roman's career and their relationship took a hit from the distance.  

Setting the finished dough aside to rest, Logan washed his hands and turned to find the dejected Virgil walking back in.

 "Virgil? What's wrong?"

"I've gotta go, Lo. Shit's hit the fan with the computers at the studio and Nate's pissed."

"How bad is it?" Logan moved closer, knowing there would be no way out of this now and accepting that he would have to face Patton alone.

"Backups failing bad. I should have gone in earlier when it was just a glitch. It was stupid of me to ignore it and-fuck I'm gonna pay for it n-"

Logan tilted Virgil's chin back and placed a soft kiss on his lips to silence the worrier.

"I apologise for my earlier attitude and clouded judgements. I will be fine this evening. You should go." Taking Virgil's hand, Logan walked him towards the door. "I will be fine until you or Patton return."

"Yeah, you will." he replied with a half-smile, before giving Logan a final kiss goodbye and heading out the door.

  The silence of the apartment was crushing as Logan threw himself onto the couch; sliding his glasses up off his face as he massaged his brow. It was all too much at once. First, he was just worried about seeing Patton and Roman again after years of dwindling contact; then they asked the couple to babysit while they went to the award ceremony that brought them to town; and now Logan would have to face it all alone. A knock at the door pulled Logan from his thoughts and he was quick to sit up and correct himself before answering it.

 "Hey Specs" Roman smiled from the entry; the pink backpack on his shoulder a harsh contrast to the black suit he wore. "It's great to see you again!"

"It's good to see you too, Roman. You are looking well considering the travel."

"Oh please," With a hand gesture Roman stepped into the apartment and put the apparently heavy bag down. "It would take more than a few hours on a plane to ruin this face."

"Indeed," Logan chuckled, turning just in time to see a pink blur heading towards him.

 "Uncle Logan!" Came a cheery voice as a body slammed into Logan and constricted his middle.

"Um...Thomas, I presume."

Logan looked up to see Patton beaming as they walked up the path in a simple blue gown. They looked so happy and lively that Logan forgot all his past grievances; it seemed Patton was happy and that was all that mattered.

"That's my Thomas," Patton giggled.

"It's good to see you again, Patton." Logan pulled a face as he looked down at the figure still holding his arms by his sides. "Your son is very... Huggie."

Roman and Patton both laughed, and Roman snapped a quick picture of the awkward man pinned by his son.

"Oh, I know. I trained him well, don't you think?"

"Indeed, Patton, but...um," Thomas giggled as Logan tried to lift his arms out of the vice grip around him. "How do I un-train him? I do need to work at some point this evening."

"That will do, Thomas; give Uncle Lo some breathing room."

At Roman's word, Thomas let go and moved to his father's side. Logan's moment of reprieve was short lived as Patton replaced their son, pulling their old friend close and whispering in his ear.

"I really missed you, Logan."

"I..." For a moment, he was lost for words before mimicking the tight grip around his friend. "I missed you too."

  The group remained in the entry as Patton began rattling off things Thomas could and couldn't do. Though he listened intently, Logan's eyes kept shifting to the young boy in the pink jacket that lent against Roman; holding onto his father’s arms around his neck and smiling up at Logan.

".... And if you need anything, just call me and I'll come right back and-"

"Calm down, Pat." Roman interjected, "We're just going for a few hours. I'm sure Lo and Thomas will be fine."

"Right. You're right."

"I always am." "That's not true, Dad." Thomas turned to look up at his father in confusion. "We were late to the airport because you got the times wrong, and you brought the wrong chocolate milk last week, and you-"

"Alright, that's enough." Roman was quick to scoop the boy up and headed inside. "Let's get you set up, hey."

A smile crept across Logan's face as he watched them go.

"Is that a genuine smile I see, Logan?" It comforted Patton to see him looking so content, despite his obvious fear of being responsible for Thomas.

"I'm proud of you, Patton." Their eyes widened as Logan turned; his own shining in the sun light. "You made the family you always wanted." "Almost," they laughed. "It's just missing one thing." "Hm?" Brows furrowing in confusion, Logan wracked his brain for what Patton was talking about. "What could you possibly be missing?"

"Just an uncle to teach Thomas about computers and another to show him how to cook. Any idea on where I could find them?"

"I think I do, but they live pretty far away." "That's okay, we're moving anyway." "What?" Logan was genuinely shocked by the news, mouth left ajar as Roman came up from behind and place a hand on his shoulder.

"You ready to be a full-time uncle, Logan?"

 The question left Logan reeling. Three years ago, Patton left their teaching position to follow Roman's quest for recognition in music and theatre; leaving Logan and Virgil behind in the process. One year ago, they adopted Thomas and their contact became almost non-existent; so to be told they were returning to include him and Virgil in their family...was amazing.

 "I suppose I'll have to be."

This time, Logan initiated a group hug; wrapping an arm around each of his friends and briefly forgetting that they had somewhere to be and he had a job to do.

"Jeez Specs, Thomas rubbed off on you quickly." Roman joked; causing Logan to quickly step back and adjust his tie.  

"Ah, yes, sorry." Logan stumbled over his words, causing his friends to laugh at his sudden display of affection. "I got a little carried away." "It's okay, Lo." Patton assured, waving at the little figure that was poking his head over the couch inside. "But we should get going or we'll never leave."

"Right. Yes. Of Course."

 Logan watched as Patton blew a kiss to Thomas before heading down the front path with Roman. Once the car had pulled away, he shut the door and turned to the smiling figure kneeling on the couch, waiting patiently. Brown eyes looked expectantly at him and he thought about Patton's wish for uncles for their son.

 "So… Thomas. Have you ever made pasta before?" The boy shook his head and slipped off the couch as Logan held his hand out. "Perhaps it's time uncle Logan taught you then."

 *************************

 When Virgil came home, he was shocked to find the apartment lit only by Steven Universe playing on the TV. Tiptoeing around the couch he was greeted to the scene of Logan fast asleep with Thomas laying on his chest. It didn't look comfortable at all, but Virgil had to admit it was an adorable thing to come home to.

________________________________________

Tags: @thequeensphinx

What else have I done:

The Shield to your Sword (WIP - A fantasy/magic au - Prinxiety (Royal Roman and orphan Virgil - they’ll admit to their love eventually), Virgil angst, non binary healer Logan, *spoiler* Patton, cursed Deceit and ridiculous Remus)

Libraries are for Meetings (ongoing WIP - Human/University au with Royality and developing Analogical. Slow burn and heavily focused on a grieving group of friends that Virgil slowly becomes a part of to better himself.)

And more....

Writing Master Post

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles

[x0401x]

Hey miss wonderful taste in everything, can you recommend us some of your favorite KyoAni productions?

Sure! I love doing recs and I’m literally taking any sort of positive content related to KyoAni lately because we truly need it at the moment. Long post alert, though. Here goes my top 10:

1. Hyouka

This one will probably be my first choice forever. It’s KyoAni’s most brilliant work so far and easily one of the best animes I’ve ever watched, hands down. It’s also their finest novel-to-anime adaptation in my opinion, and one of the very few animation series that actually turned out better than their source material.

The books are extremely interesting, but they’re also bland. The alterations made to the anime added visual value to it in order to make it more alluring and appealing, turning ordinary situations into rather unique and thought-provoking settings, while managing to never deviate from its novel counterpart. The changes on the characters’ designs were also a very good choice in my opinion, as they fit more into the character archetypes and the impressions they give off.

This one is honestly an example for the whole anime industry and a timeless gem. I’m pretty certain that it was one of the studio’s turning points in terms of animation style. Surely will become a classic in the future.

2. Koe no Katachi

KyoAni’s most well-done movie, as far as I can tell. I’m specially fond of the symbolism of every scene and the effort put on the scenery, which gave an effect of depth to the frames. The studio managed to portray the mangaka’s art style while staying true to its own trademark traits as well.

Animation quality and sound design aside, it’s also loyal enough to the manga. There were cuts in order to fit the story into the time limit, but KyoAni made up for the gaps with later released specials. The movie is also considerably less dramatic than the original, yet I’m certain that the alterations in that regard were made so that the transition between the phases of the story wouldn’t feel rushed. Albeit in a much more uplifting way, it nevertheless managed to transmit the characters’ essence and emotions.

What caught my attention the most in this movie was the soundtrack, though. There was a lot of care in its production, and it was clearly made to be gentle and almost imperceptible, with glitch-like repetitions here and there, as if it means to put the viewers in the shoes of the deaf heroine. It certainly did its job well.

3. Full Metal Panic? Fumoffu!

First anime from KyoAni I’ve ever watched, aside from the Inuyasha movies. Easily one of their funniest series, if not the actual funniest. It has a very special place in my heart. I dropped Amagi Brilliant Park on the first episode, but I’d cry internally every time I saw Bonta-kun in it. The nostalgia is strong, kids.

It’s got excellent animation for the year it was made, and I dare say it’s more decently animated than many current animes. The pacing is dynamic and the jokes vary from over-the-top to smart and witty in a smooth way. I also give this one kudos for not relying nearly as much on fanservice as more recent titles.

For the people who didn’t watch the first Full Metal Panic, I suggest doing so before trying this one out. Anyone who enjoys the two should also watch the second season, Full Metal Panic: The Second Raid, which comes right after Fumoffu and was also animated by KyoAni.

4. Clannad

This one I deem as the best out of KyoAni’s most notorious classics. I also recommend the other titles related to this one, such as Clannad: Another Story.

Much like Hyouka, it’s a masterpiece in every aspect. It has a very non-cliché and unconveninent plot that deals with delicate themes in a sensible way and tears your heart apart at the same time. Frankly exemplary to the drama genre and exceptional as a visual novel adaptation.

5. Free!

The franchise became lackluster after the first director left, but the first two seasons were fun enough in their own right. Unlike most novel-to-anime adaptations, Free! started with original content through creating a future for the main story, which was turned into the not-so-distant past in the anime. This is unusual enough, but it worked out well as the anime maintained itself as loyal as possible to the first book and never went off the rails with the plot. The main characters’ personalities did suffer many alterations, yet it’s obvious that they meant to make the two more charismatic and likeable. As far as fan responses went, it worked.

I find very interesting that the creators were aware the story took itself too seriously at times, and they made this clear by compensating the heavy melancholy with heavy comedy. They also compensated the overdramatic atmosphere of the first season by picking up the pace and getting a little more serious in the second season. Everything was intentional and designed to be a hit amongst women, which I think had served the purpose until the first movie came out.

To be honest, I’m not fond of the exaggerated fanservice, but it gets easy to ignore it after a while if you only pay attention to the storyline. I don’t consider myself a fan of Free!, and I actually took very long to start liking it. I only did get into it at the last scene of episode 8, back when the first season was still airing. It was only by this time that I could see the true value of the series, so I recommend anyone who tries it out to go at least that far with it. I know it might be a lot of work, but in my honest opinion, it’s worth the trouble.

I deem the High Speed! novel awe-inspiring because of its nostalgic tone and the awfully realistic depiction of childhood crises. The most serious situations of it are a little out of reality, but the rest is absurdly relatable in levels that I myself don’t know how to put into words. Yet I also appreciate Free! for its strong tone of encouragement. It feels like the creators are trying to cheer up the viewers.

6. Kyoukai no Kanata

It starts becoming a mess from episode 4 onward, yet the beginning was quite promising. This one relies heavily on fanservice, often makes use of nonsensical tropes for the sake of comedy and sometimes goes overboard with the jokes. However, it doesn’t fail to deliver emotional value and the action is pretty neat. Anyone who hasn’t read the novel will definitely be able to enjoy it as a standalone.

I don’t think I need to mention it, but the animation is stellar. I in particular love the blurry movement effects of when the characters draw their weapons and the geometrical spectrums in the colorful power barriers. I also recommend the OVA, as well as the second movie I’ll be Here, although the latter is 100% original content. It was actually cute and fun to watch. The first movie is merely one huge recap.

7. Hibike! Euphonium

Truly dazzling take on slice-of-life. It’s healing and heartrending at the same time. The way that characters are portrayed allows the viewers to feel their passion and dedication without it occasionally feeling unrealistic. Everyone has their own problems, but none of them are taken out of proportion. Miscommunication happens, just not in a frustrating shoujo manga way.

The soundtrack and scenery are breathtaking, yet the forte of the animation in this one was the huge amount of detail put into the eyes and hair. Everyone’s hairdos are remarkably glossy without ever looking weird, and I especially like how their eyes all glinter in different colors.

The author published another volume of the novel after the anime, saying it had inspired her to write more, and it’s no wonder. I also recommend season two and the OVA. The first two movies are just recaps and the third was to me a disappointment, so I leave those to people’s own discretion.

8. Tamako Market

Rather odd but nice story. It blends iyashikei elements with a peculiar plot and actually manages to do that in a cute way. All of the characters are likeable and the visuals do a good job in transmitting what they have to transmit in a very relaxing manner.

This show caught me off-guard by how unproblematic it was. It has trans, gay and dark-skinned characters, but none of them is ever used for fanservice or jokes and their respective circumstances are portrayed as 100% normal, which is sadly still rare in anime even nowadays. The romance is pretty not-dramatic and filled to the brim with fluff, and I very much like that the main guy treats his female love rival as a serious threat.

I recommend the specials and the movie as well. Especially the movie, which is basically the same as direct sugar injestion and gave me diabetes.

9. Munto

Also has a special place in my heart. Cheesy but good, actually. I’d be lying if I said there aren’t some surprises in it, though, but I’ll refrain from giving too much info on the story itself.

It was firstly an OVA, but then got adapted into three movies. The animation was done finely enough, but there’s a drastic change in style from the first to the second half, though I myself didn’t really mind it. The characters are all well-stablished and the plot is consistent. There’s a present quality of feminist shades in it and the relationships are very endearing.

10. Nichijou

Not really one of my favorites but certainly one that I recommend for people who are in need of a laugh. It’s got some pretty creative and iconic humor. Its imaginative retakes on routinely affairs manage to transform the most trivial real-life situations into Oscar-worthy wit. It also gets nonsensical every so often, but this fits within the show’s own narrative.

It has a very unique animation that sometimes mixes different styles of art, which only makes every scene a hundred times funnier for being so soft and adorable. It varies from hyperrealistic to surrealistic at the speed of light and sometimes even becomes abstract as hell. It’s full of notes on Japanese culture, not only about daily life but also about media, which adds up to the fun.

[lady-moonbroch]

hi girl~ i hate to bother but is is okay if i can request a yandere isaac or yandere charles either one going berserk? 😂

Oh hello there dear Anons! Admittedly, I was quite surprised by these requests and more so because yandere is not exactly my thing. But(!) I thought I might give it a try and hope I don’t disappoint you both.I went with Charles for this one, Isaac doesn’t strike me as violent or obsessive, but Charlie…oh this boy may look precious but looks can be deceiving they say. Hope you enjoy it and please do read with care, this is one is quite dark towards the end.

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Warnings: slightly explicit language, gore, violence, dark, deathWord Count:  1671

The sun rose to the sky, bright and clear, bathing the cobblestoned streets of Paris with it’s warm and pleasant light. Charles slowly made his way out of the abandoned church he called home and raised his gaze to meet the morning star, replying to it’s warm greeting with a smile. “A perfect day to take a stroll, huh?” he mumbled to himself.It was almost midday by the time he reached the city center and large crowds streamed through the shops, candid excitement brightening their features at the sight of the sunny weather after days of rain and mist.A sigh of dismay escaped his lips, his gaze failing to meet the countenance of the girl with the smiling eyes. He slumped against a wall, his mouth forming an unsatisfied pout cursing his foul luck…until he heard it.Bubbling laughter softly entered his earshot. Remaining hidden in the shadows offered by the high walls of the alley he trained his opalescent eyes on the figure of the girl with the smiling eyes, ordering them to map every delicate detail of her form. How her silken locks reflected the warm rays of the sun, how they caressed her rosy cheeks with tenderness and how the apple of those cheeks rose in delight with every smile she beamed.Oh, how he wished he’d be the one escorting her to town, touching her freely as he’d like and bring a flush of pink upon her cheeks with teasing words and suggestive provocations. He allowed not his eyes to stray from the girl as she strode through the street with her co-worker, patiently waiting for a chance to talk to her in private.And the opportunity did appear not long after. She walked into a shop on her own, telling the butler of the Count’s mansion that she would meet him in a quarter of an hour at the centre of the plaza. Delight by this turn of events Charles slowly and quietly made his way to the entrance of the shop, his mind busy rehearsing the way he’d introduce himself to her.But before he could enter the shop, he stopped dead on his tracks. The girl was being harassed by a brute, his teasing smiles and the look of entitlement on his faces made Charles’s blood boil with anger. His eyes shone with a threatening gleam as they focused on the face of the thug. He strained his ears to listen closely to hear their conservation, only to discover the jerk’s vocabulary consisted only of vulgarity and discourtesy. 

He regarded him harshly as he slowly exited the shop still laughing like a mischievous child after playing a prank on someone who couldn’t stand up to a bully. Brows furrowed he turned his gaze back to the girl’s face, the skin around her eyes dusted red, her irises shining with underlying tears as she took deep breaths to regain her composure.He turned on his heel with his mind made up and slowly strode back in the alley, his form swallowed by the familiar dark shadows that harboured creatures like him.

The night obscured the City of Light with her thick blue veil, the night was without the pale light of the moon and an eerie misty cloud swirled in the nocturnal breeze.The man strolled fearlessly in the empty streets, each proud step leading him closer to his destination, a local pub where his friends waited expectedly for him to give them the detail of his new “prey”. A girl he met at the old tobacco shop this morning, a foreign and fine specimen, he said with a smug grin plastered on his face.His footsteps were the only sound in the otherwise silent alley…or so he thought. The silence he believed to be surrounding him was broken by matching footsteps that closed in from behind him.A cold droplet of sweat began to trickled right above his brow as fear slowly creeped under his skin, his consciousness warning him that the creature looming up behind him was no human but a beast of cruel intentionsHe desperately strained the muscles of his legs to move forwards just a little faster, to help him escape the jaws of the evil chasing him like a prey…But his feet failed him.Something sharp penetrated the nape of his neck and a wave of dizziness washed over his body. Before he felt his consciousness fade to darkness he heard a young man’s cheerful voice, his words unclear as his sight blurred and turned dark.

“Where am I?” the man thought aloud as his eyes fluttered open, met with unfamiliar and eerie surroundings. It looks like he was in an abandoned room. He tried to move but to his shock his hands and neck have been restrained. His audible gulp echoed in the seemingly empty room.Slowly he turned his head upwards to take a better look at the device that kept him still. His eyes widen with terror as his gaze fell on the sharp blade of a guillotine, his breath quickened and his muscles jittered nervously. He began to look for a way to escape and unbound himself but was soon interrupted by quiet, almost silent footsteps.“Who are you?! What do you want from me?? Release m-“

“Your head...” the young man cut off his screams.

“Who are you?? Answer me!” he shouted again. He heard the footsteps drawing closer and his vision was soon filled by the lean figure of a young man. He smiled ever so gently at him, but his beautiful opalescent eyes could easily be mistaken for glacier.

“My name is Charles. Charles Henri Sanson”

“Why do you want me dead? What did I do to you? I don’t even know you!” the man kept shouting, much to Charles delight.

“It was high time someone taught you some manners. I’m…quite strict with my punishments some might say. But, oh well, a severed head can’t speak” Charles chuckled.

“Leave me be!! I have done no harm t-“

“Oh have you now?” Charles voice was cold and grave, the sweet smile plastered on his face turning into a lopsided grin, matching in sharpness the inclinatory blade that hang above the man’s neck.“Maybe I need to refresh your memory. Do you not remember how crudely you treated a certain young lady this morning?”. Charles spoke with even and icy tone, lowering himself to look his victim eye to eye.

“I-I-I’ll apologise to her! I never meant her any harm! I swear to God!”

“Liar!”The man shrunk back at the unearthly howl that roar from Charles lungs. His eyes were no long a mass of eyes. They burned with fire like the deepest pits of well, two flaming spheres ready to scorch whomever they beheld.“You planned to kidnap her...And violate her. This is why you couldn’t even hide the skip in your step as you made your way to your friends. You ever dared to lay a finger on her precious skin just this morning. You insufferable bastard!”Charles low growls were only answered by the man’s stuttering as he fumbled to make excuses for himself knowing they’d fall on dead ears. Everything Charles said was true, but how he knew all that he would never come to know.“You won’t kill me! You can’t just kill a man!”. Charles’ eyes widened slightly at the sound of the man’s words. Relief began to bloom inside the man’s chest and was shuttered in thousands of pieces mere moments later by Charles hysterical laughter.

“You incorrigible fool!” he laughs. “I have executed thousands…I took King Louis head with my own hands…and now…I will take yours.” 

The man’s head twitched and turned uncomfortably, locked in the guillotine’s lunette unable to escape. Charles pulled the leaver that released the blade, relishing at the subtle sound of the mouton sliding smoothly between the grooves of its wooden frame and the final thud of the blade when it’s destination.

He slowly removed the splatter shield and with practiced movements gripped the man’s head by the hair and raised to the level of his eyes as if to present it to his invisible audience.

A new day began signalled by the rooster’s crow, the young guest of the Count made her way to the kitchen with soft and quiet steps. She kept her mind busy, thinking what breakfast she should prepare for the residents today, so busy indeed that she bumped on the younger Van Gogh brother. She looked up at him, he was reading the daily newspaper.

“I’m so sorry Theo, I didn’t mean to crash on you like that” she mumbled as she bowed apologetically.

“Don’t worry Hondje, I was not paying much attention either” he replied. She looked at him quizzically and turned her gaze to the newspaper in his hands.

“Something serious happened? You seem a little troubled.”

“Indeed. A man of higher standing disappeared last night. His friends said they waited for him all night at the pub. He never showed up, nor did they find him at home. He is just gone without a trace.”

________________Banner by angelichellraiser

[jackednephi]

On daily scripture study

Kind of a long post. I'm on mobile so no cut. Sorry :(

Ok so I'm gonna try doing something this year that I haven't in the past and that's reading my scriptures every single day. In the past, I've been hindered by like approaching it as the Ideal like we learn in seminary which is Deep Study every single day. Obviously, I ended up failing because that's such a lofty goal. I mean, it always ended up being good for me because it would inevitably deepen my study. I'd involve Google in with the footnotes and get really deep into things. Like the post I have forever ago about Nephi's sword type of thing. But research rather than happenstance and it's part of why I know so much about kosher laws off the top of my head

Something else I think has been a hindrance to this goal has been the idea that I need to bust out my physical scriptures to do so and, at least when I was in high school, the only comfortable place I had to do this was the couch in the living room. Also, if I'm being honest, I was definitely doing Way Too Much (as is the common Mormon trap tbh) But I'm not doing Way Too Much because what work I get is by no means full time. I do what I can around the house, but that's limited to weather, spoons, and so on. I'm in the process of applying for disability but that's not an all day, every day type of affair. I'm going back to school eventually and studying for the GRE in the meantime but, again, even with all this, I have a lot of open time. And I have a comfy bed if nowhere else

ALL THAT SAID, I wanted to know if anybody used the LDS library app for reading and how that worked out. I figured if I can make time to read bits of fanfiction/otome apps every day, then I can try to read the scriptures every day. Also, is the app good for study? I know it's good for church use so will be good for casual reading but a big reason I haven't relied on it for daily reading is that I'm worried about relying on it for regular study

I mean, I've always been partial to physical books and scriptures (I can write in them and I like the heft and can use them even when headaches crop up) but I need to be realistic with myself. Sometimes I can't even get out of bed for hip pain and can't even prop myself up to read a physical copy. Plus, I do NOT want my kids (the buns for those of 6ou unaware) thinking it's something they can destroy cause we give them phone books and stuff to shred and scriptures are similar enough. But again, not sure if the app is good enough for me to kind of "retire" my scriptures so to speak. Especially since I really, really, REALLY like marking them and writing notes in them. I know there's a little notebook thing but, again, I've been reluctant to explore it because I was pretty sure there was no way it could be as good as physically writing

How does everyone else approach what to study too, by the way? Do y'all go "I will study what we are in Sunday school this year" or do you just eat up the BOM year after year instead? Do you switch it up from day to day just going wherever? Do you start with the ensign and work from there? Conference talks? Because that's technically scripture too, right? Also, would it be a good idea to maybe record my progress in my journal I use for scriptures and study maybe? Like the date, where I read from and to, maybe some quick notes? Or would that be too ambitious for now? I was thinking it would be good to see if I've been actually accomplishing reading every day and adjust accordingly if I wasn't. Maybe printing out a little calendar or chart and giving myself a cute little sticker as a reward for that day to mark my progress

Like the goal is to get myself to make this a habit. It has never ever been a habit for me and that definitely needs to change. Like I do read scriptures but never daily like we're told. I want to give myself as much opportunity for success as possible and, considering I'm 25, I clearly have yet to figure out what I need to do for success. I'd tried every day in the mornings in high school but needed to wake up at 430 to do that due to morning JROTC practice three days a week and seminary the other two. Then, who's going to wake up that early on the weekends to keep that kind of habit? Not a growing, anorexic, overscheduled teenager, that's who

Then, I'd have after school stuff. Drama, choir practice, viola practice, fencing, or karate depending on the year, piano practice/lesson every day except Sundays, JROTC stuff depending on time of year and if stuff was coming up, a MOUNTAIN of homework, and by the time all that was done, it wasn't like I was in any shape to do more studying. I wanted to play video games or draw or read or otherwise destress. Then, I was inactive in college so why would I go out of my way to form (let alone keep) a daily scripture habit

So do I go for a same time every single day type thing? I attribute the past failure of that to circumstance. A set time is fine when I have/remember to take my meds. But that will probably fall apart other days and habits are consistent things. Maybe I should aim for, instead of a time, more of a "as soon as I wake up, have had food and meds" type of flexible thing so I'm not beating myself up for sleeping in until noon when I meant to get up at 8? Or do y'all find later in the day better because you're not having to worry about the Rest Of The Day setting in on you? I'm thinking after me waking might be best so I'm not feeling guilty for taking time away from my family

Regarsing frequency, should I start with doing it as often as possible? Shoot for once a week then slowly increase it? Go whole hog and get it done daily even if it's just a couple minutes? I genuinely do not know. The year my family and I read the BOM every day together, I was in elementary and not doing too much. We did four chapters a day, more if they were short and less if they were long, but my parents really were the ones who dictated that so I don't really know how to do that myself

Anyway, I really want to make sure this goal sees success and then, in time to come, I can deepen it to be rigorous study rather than just reading every day. Thus all the questions. I also know different people are different and what may work for y'all may not work for me. But I would like real answers as to how y'all do your scripture habits as opposed to like Advice y'know? Like get real specific with it so I can have a good idea of what works for different people so I have a concrete idea of things to try

Nobody is obligated to answer any of these questions by the way. Just I wanted to ask them and throw this out there to all of tumblrstake so I could get a good range of answers. Daily scripture study is such a nebulous concept to me that I definitely need concrete examples as opposed to vague advice. Also no I'm not gonna pray about how to know how to do things. HF doesn't work like that. I mean I will pray for guidance to know when things are working or not but I can't do that until I'm actively Doing The Thing and how am I supposed to actively Do The Thing if I don't really even have a starting place

Like do I hit up the church website and comb through conference talk after conference talk about "read your scriptures daily" in hopes of finding a more practical how to? I'd think there would be less of that and more admonishing. I was also born in the church so idk if converts get some kind of lesson from the missionaries the rest of us don't about how to read daily. If so, can we like spread that to the general populous? Cause I would appreciate it

Anyway, sorry for the wall of text. Vann had Questions

Feel free to hit up my inboxes by the way. I do read everything even if some asks sit there for like months at a time because I never get around to answering them

[dentistmarketingduringcovid19]

Dental Marketing Tips and Ideas for Dentists

Imagine that: Your dental clinic has gotten so popular you are asked to create the rounds the day talkshows at which you reach reveal actors to whiten their teeth with strawberries, baking soda, and a charcoal briquette. Pretty awesome?

Okay... you may not desire to be considered a star dentist however I'm sure getting leads and much more patients will be probably pretty at the top of you list to cultivate your own dental small enterprise enterprise.

Dentistry is just a field, irrespective of what condition you are in. Cities such as Los Angeles have over 10,000 listings of dental practitioners on Yelp. There exists a office on every single block and also at every strip mall at most city. There is a great deal of competition and you are likely to wind up getting their bits, when you are not designed with the advertising tools.

I understand you've probably tried to employ a marketing business or SEO firm to help improve your clinic plus you were guaranteed yields by them but couldn't send. They had no clue exactly what these actually do to you and left it all seem really confusing that you find yourself ostensibly cutting them a test.

The insanity will stop the following.

You want to create yourself knowledgeable about which online advertising strategies ACTUALLY operate to help improve your clinic. Once you realize these advertising approaches you'll be able to request your SEO company how they're doing these activities and also make them demonstrate testimonials on the way they accomplished those aims. It's probably time for you to kick them and search for somebody In case they can not.

Here's What your SEO Company SHOULD Do for youpersonally:

Optimizing Your Website for SEO

Tracking your AdWords Daily and Making Good Adjustments

Assessing and Managing Your Local Listings and Review Sites

Fixing Your Dental Office's Yelp and Actively Helping You Push to Get Good Reviews

Creating New and Engaging Content About Dentistry in Your Website

Promoting Your New Unique Content Though Article Share Sites and Social Media

Assembling Strong Backlinks with Reputable Sites to Your Website

Auditing Your Dental Office Manager and Making Sure They Truly Are On Task

Helping You Build a Good a Good Sales Funnel So Your Leads Turn Into Patients

Offer You Easy to Understand Reporting and Statistics

Building Strong Backlinks

For the web site to rank well on Google you need to create a reputation . How would you do so? You want to obtain confidence with Google by building traffic from other dental sites. If Google sees a respectable dental-related site or site links to a website, it basically says to itself,"Hey, this trustworthy site thinks that this dental website is worth mentioning. Let's bump it up a few ranks." Using enough, backlinks, along with the years that your internet site will probably proceed upto front page for.

Managing Your Yelp and Review Sites

You might hate Yelp however, the simple truth is that it's actually the very first thing folks might find about your clinic. You can not hide from Yelp as it is the users that induce your list when you did not make one. A excellent online advertising company assisting you to develop strategies about the best way best to have patients that are joyful to render reviews and will probably always push one to find reviews. There are also review websites such as Google My Business, Yellowpages, Superpages, Manta, and more they ought to be managing foryou.

Whenever you do receive yourself a poor review (it's inevitable, almost always there is a individual who renders you ) your dental advertising team should inform you about it and also coach you about how best to write a valuable reaction. Often times a client will raise their score of you personally or will be seen by additional sponsors if they don't

Optimizing Your Website for SEO

Your web site has to be optimized for SEO so as to rank well on Google. There are numerous things Google actively seeks this as portable responsiveness, metatags and descriptions, page loading times, proper HTML and CSS, etc.. Each one these problems will need to be addressed as a way to construct a base for the online advertising. Your web site should work to be able to make the most of your financial commitment decision and convert.

Claiming and Managing Your Local Listings

If you would like to draw patients away from out your city or only from the competitors, you need to begin somewhere. Your online advertising firm extend from there and should make certain you control the city. A significant portion of that is making certain most your Local Listings and Review web sites are maintained and well examined. The presence you have the higher you may appear on maps and Google searches. Your site will begin standing for cities of course, when your SEO team does their occupation you're going to be pulling patients from all around the nation.

Creating New and Engaging Dental Content

Google loves engaging articles, and fresh. Genuine and the interesting your material is more, the more Google values your own site. Many advertising businesses assert to compose unique cut and paste articles. Ensure that your SEO company providing and is researching share-worthy articles which engages any own customers. Just take a while to learn this material that your SEO company was writing to you personally. When it's crap to you Google also believes it's crap and wont value doing it.

Promoting Your Unique Dental Articles

Creating articles fails . An outdated obsolete SEO plan was to produce a lot of useless articles and materials since much dental relevant key words as potential (e.g. Dental Implants, Cheap Dental Implants, Low Cost Dental Implants, etc.. ) in a post assured Google's robots pick this up and position well. That really is black-hat practice that is awful. Google would like to find people talking it, linking it, viewing it, and speaking about the essay. A dental SEO company allocate funds in to boosting the articles they've written to you and instead will focus significantly on creating quantity of articles.

Managing Your Dental AdWords

Lots of you have probably tried AdWords for the clinic and also have not seen a fantastic yield. It is just as if you are simply throwing money. AdWords is space since you are always competing with tens of thousands of companies and dentists with budgets which may just dismiss yours off. Some businesses spend between $10,000 - $60,000+ monthly on AdWords. If you should be managing your AdWords it yourself is improbable you have the individual hours to use its own features for the maximum. With key words costing between $2.50 - $8.00 per click on you have to be somewhat careful and accommodate new strategies fast. The concerns go with your site designer or IT profession that are not pros at AdWords managing it.

Here's are a few fundamental questions to ask your own AdWords supervisor:

What's the Auction Insights reports?

Answer: A report which shows how your campaign will be acting vs. the competition.

What Ad Extensions Have you been currently really using?

Sitelink - Additional connections on your advertisement

Call-out - Additional descriptive text below your advertisement

Structured Snippits - Extensions which emphasize aspects of your solutions

Telephone - Shows your telephone number

Location - Shows a map with your advertisement

Inspection - Highlights third party testimonials in your advertisement

Up are our advertisements turning what internet web sites for the Remarketing effort?

What key words that are are you currently really using?

Answer: Your supervisor ought to be searching through your research phrases and exluding key words You Don't want to appear to (e.g. Gold Teeth, Free Dental Implants, Dental Schools)

There are some issues if a SEO firm oversees your AdWords. As a SEO company has many customers, your accounts has hauled to a AdWords manager who has experience that can result in you losing money. They focus with extend and volume inexpensive rates but produce outcomes that are good.

Auditing Your Office Manager and Tracking Their Performance

It's rather simple to develop with plans that are tailored to aid your business generate leads and convert them but it's just another thing to employ them to the daily routine of office. Therefore everybody is executing A dental advertising and advertising business will work closely to be certain that they're managing your staff.

There are particular matters your workplace manager has on top of such as ensuring that the staff is earnestly requesting happy patients to get reviews, calling direct leads to a timely fashion, or ensuring to record essential data just such as the position and conversion speeds of your leads accordingly that your advertising and advertising and advertising campaigns might be corrected to find the maximum return on these. Your advertising company ensuring all activities have been done and ought to really be auditing your office manager.

Building a Good Sales Funnel

It's possible to spend tens of thousands on SEO and AdWords and receive tens of thousands of leads but in the event that you do not possess a sales funnel, then you will find yourself losing them. A dental online advertising business will produce an activity to help convert those leads. That is carried out using a CRM (Customer Relationship Management) applications that handles and analyze customer connections throughout the sales funnel.

In plain English this means if somebody gets out a questionnaire on your landing page requesting about a dental implant, then you have an activity which raises the likelihood they convert out of a lead to some patient if they cancel appointments, so do not answer your telephone, or ask to get called a day or two after because they'll undoubtedly likely probably soon be out of the town. Good earnings will frighten one induce and also team them develop in to paying patients and to be consistent so that that they really close. Every interaction has been monitored where the flow on your connection is therefore that you may understand.

Creating Easy to Understand Reports and Statistics

Most SEO businesses provide their dental customers complicated mechanically generated reports to demonstrate how"good" their numbers really are many of the metrics just do not matter.

Statistics Important For Your Dental Marketing Campaign

Internet Site Unique Visitors - The Quantity of New Visitors into Your Site

AdWords Clicks - The quantity of clicks that your AdWords campaign is currently becoming

CTR (Click Through Rate) - How likely an outcome will click on your AdWords advertisement after seeing it.

Total Phone Calls - How many telephone calls have been created through landing pages and your Web Site

Entire Leads - How many prospects that your Dental Internet Marketing firm is currently creating through SEO and AdWords

Result in Appointments - The percent of prospects which become appointments

Appointments to Shows - The percent of appointments that appear

No Shows - The percent of prospects Which Make appointments but not appear

Physicians - The amount of prospects which become paying patients

Cost Per Patient - The quantity of marketing dollars which will need to be spent to have a guide and convert them.

With numbers and useful and accurate reporting you as well as your online advertising team may create alterations that are educated to your promotional initiatives that will assist you to spend money.

Whether your objectives are in the event that you want to raise your income to eventually become profitable or to develop into a world dentist to the stars, you have to put money into internet dental advertising. When you have found the correct organization to work well with you ought to be knowledgeable about what SEO and AdWords methods will be effective therefore they can be audited by that you and be certain that you're getting your money's worth. Whenever you and your advertising team are employed in full harmony, you can start to finetune your efforts and finally enlarge the range of your company and ideally open more techniques.  Please do yourself a favor and make sure to check out these great resources that will be sure to assist you in creating a successful online marketing strategy:  ‘’click here’’

Area Based Marketing (Local SEO)

So as to prevail over close by contenders for new patients searching for a dental specialist in the zone, your dental work on promoting must incorporate advancement for neighborhood look. To get the best outcomes, ensure you have a precise posting over numerous online indexes, utilize nearby watchwords in your SEO system, and urge current patients to leave positive audits on locales, for example, Google, Yelp, and Facebook.

Enhance for Mobile

In 2016, portable web perusing overwhelmed work areas just because. Today, versatile utilization keeps on rising, which implies that notwithstanding area-based promoting, you'll have to ensure you enhance your site for the portable client. Here are the manners by which portable plan and SEO contrast from work area:

Versatile clients have less screen space, so you'll need to restrict boxes of long content.

Structure your site with effectively available symbols or catches that make it simple for site guests to call or solicitation an arrangement right away.

 Versatile clients react well to video, so your site and web-based media pages ought to have important and drawing in video substance to build sees.

Improving for versatile is one of the most significant parts of an effective advanced promoting technique for dental specialists.

Remain Engaged with Social Media

Online Media is an incredible method to give your training an individual voice. It permits you to furnish devotees with modern, applicable data, for example, tips, intriguing measurements on oral wellbeing, and pictures of your training and representative culture so they feel as though they know you. The key is to fabricate a relationship with likely patients by offering correlative data. This assembles brand mindfulness, sets up the trust, and improves the probability that your training will be at the bleeding edge of their brains when they're prepared to plan an arrangement.

Notoriety Management

Most of the imminent patients base their choice to plan an arrangement on positive online notoriety. Your online notoriety is most generally spoken to by surveys on Yelp, Google, and web-based media stages. Despite the fact that you can't satisfy everybody 100% of the time, checking your audits routinely and immediately reacting to both positive and negative ones shows the worth your training places on understanding fulfillment.

Email Marketing Campaign

Conveying content right to your patients' inboxes permits you to give them complimentary instructive articles on keeping up dental wellbeing, admittance to neighborhood wellbeing assets, occasional advancements, and in any event, charging data. You can likewise make it a stride further and fragment your rundowns by socioeconomics so as to offer more customized content. Email showcasing is one of the structure squares of a dependable connection between your patients and your dental practice.

Remain Human

In conclusion, one of the most significant parts of any advanced showcasing effort for dental specialists, computerized, or something else, is the capacity to stay human and compassionate. In the event that you need a bigger crowd to consider your business, you have to show you're put resources into the network. Individuals need to give their business to organizations with a soul. Attempt to partake in-network occasions and offer free or ease administrations to the individuals who are oppressed or underinsured. It's advantageous to make a move and feature your responsibility to everyone's benefit. Potential patients will react well.

[clovercoin]

aj where are you?????????? UPDATES by CloverCoin

Hey all, sorry I actually had a pretty bad mental break, body was being pretty wretched. So I frankly just kinda gave up for a while there. Frankly, I'm not handling Candy passing well at all. I'm very upset and angry still. I got a nasty message on here and really upset me/set me off. I've talked to this a lot to Provinite and CinnriStreusel and I think I'm going to be delegating a lot more of the sales and social media handling for Clover Coin Designs to cinnri soon. We're just working out a process that is going to work best for us all to work cooperatively together. Both of them do not want me to give up no matter what. They believe in me more than I believe in myself. That's... pretty wild. I've been off in a bad place for a few months now. Barely managing to draw, doing my best to keep up minor doodles/personal oc art just so my arms don't atrophy again. it's been a very frustrating summer, but with the help of my friends it really does look like things might get better. It's been consistent.. ish with my ipad. But not being well enough to sit down and stay at my desktop and therefore my updates and correspondence have been not available to me at all. That's 100% on me, no one else to blame here. We all know my health is shit, I know better than anyone my health is shit. Just been... mentally harder to deal with lately. So much, so very much I want to do. I'm so desperate for it. But all I get to do is have 1 spoon a day and have to use that for my own maintenance of making sure I eat and take all my medications. And let me tell you all, I've been failing. Barely been conscious the past two weeks and when I'm awake everything hurts so badly I can't think straight. I can't even stand company. I've been getting so angry at Provinite being in my bubble all the damn time lmao (he literally can't help it, he lives here and also helps caretake for me, ive been just pretty emotionally irrational lately....) sigh, it's been just hard seeing us work so hard and there is just always SO MUCH MORE to do. it's so stressful I spend a lot of days crying about it. It's not the fault of art, not the fault of community, not the fault of friends. I'm just so angry and tired of being sick and only getting 2% of my time... then not being allowed to do ANYTHING fun with it. I'm feeling burned out and run down. I want to escape. Another thing is I have a lot of opinions. I am having a really hard time "grin and bare it" while traveling through SFW social media feeds and trying to keep my own work updated daily so I'm not forgotten and then truly am destined to be broke and f*cked. I really can't stand scheduling any more, I can't stand updating any more through this pristine FILTER everyone irrationally expects out of people. I just am angry and I want to own my space again. I will be still using CloverCoin, I still own CloverCoin, Pillowing-Pile and Lintlings is still hibernating but ACTIVELY being worked on even to this day. We're slow, it's been really hard, but with CinnriStreusel it's just finally starting to get moving again. Clovercoin will pretty much just be my professional brand/curated content for this account. All SFW content and minor safe places so peeps can enjoy them to the fullest. So to find my own space again, I'm going to be moving all of my personal life/updating/fun self to 18+ and NSFW spaces (minors should avoid!!). I have a 2nd da account I will be using for personal fun and personal work. TailSideUp twitter.com/tailsideup www.furaffinity.net/user/flips… As always, there is a large number of people who take issue with me but refuse to resolve it with me. SHRUG. Purity culture at it's finest folks. I will need to be blocking people on my new name, but fair game on me. If you don't like me? BLOCK ME. Block TailSideUp and make sure your spaces are safe and comfortable. I'm not here to ruin anyone's good time, especially creatively. I'll be using my block list very liberally as well with anyone who makes me uncomfortable or whenever I get rude messages/future harassment. I will no longer be tolerating any harassment, even to "grin and bare it" for my cutesy brand. I'm not your personal punching bag. Anyway I know people have been very worried about me, from customers, to trades, to patrons, and all of my friends. Thank you so much for messaging me on discord, I'm so sorry I have not been able to reply in respective times, I've been very stressed and very sad and... it feels like I will infect people i like when I talk to them. So I hold myself up and just go back to bed. That isn't the correct answer and I'm sorry. I'm working my best through all of these social anxieties and trying to process what I can do to lessen the stress all around. I figure making an official update for you all to know what's going on is where to start. I'm mostly going to be logged in as TailSideUp so if you're looking for quick replies from me, try there before clovercoin. do NOT message me about Pillowing-Pile / Pillowing-Archive group and community stuff though, that account is strictly for me/personal space/not clover coin community stuff. I need a break and making this boundary is super necessary for my well being. I will be making regular logins to clovercoin during my business hours once I have them figured out with Provinite and CinnriStreusel . So clovercoin isn't dead or neglected, in fact it's... oddly getting prioritized so everything in the long run can be updated regularly and by a team instead of just lil 'o me. overall I'm seriously broke. I need about $3000 usd. I have not been able to work or do anything in my current state and not being able to bring in even minimum amount of cash has really hurt us. I really need to start making money again and will be contacting everyone over the next week or two about commissions or trades to finish them up. I want to forcefully make myself start streaming again. I'm not looking to take on even more work, I'm stressed and struggling. I want to complete what I owe first then move on from there. But in the mean time, yes I'm literally begging for help and for money. ko-fi.com/clovercoin so yeah, that's the gist of it all. it's cool if you can't help me, it's cool if you can't give me money, hell it's cool if you're actively shitting on me. Just be straight with me and we're good. _へ__(‾◡◝ )>

[spoons4spoonies]

Story Time: POTS diagnosis

I was diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (or POTS, since that’s a mouthful and a half) in August of last year. It was nearing the end of my gap year, which was supposed to be a period of rest and healing, not of gaining new unwelcome symptoms and new diagnoses.

I had as usual set myself an unrealistically (in hindsight) high goal of becoming a completely healthy and abled person by the time I started university, as I simply could not wrap my head around the idea that I would be able to cope otherwise. In other words, it was get better or you will fail and never amount to anything and always be miserable – and yeah, needless to say as the time drew nearer and my body showed no signs of obeying my strict instructions, I entered more and more panic spirals of despair.

At this point I would like to return to the present to let you know that I have just finished my first year and survived my first lot of exams since the endurance test that was A-levels. Not to say that it has been easy – of course university was never going to be a walk in the park – but I have done well and I should be proud of myself.

(I know this because my mother keeps sending me postcards telling me how amazing I am. Bear in mind that she lives twenty minutes away and visits me once a week – often to hand the postcards over herself to save on postage.)

Anyway, unless you have it or know someone who does, you have probably never heard of POTS. It is essentially a problem with my blood pressure and that is what I stick to when I’m asking someone for their seat on the tube. When a normal fully-abled person stands up, their blood pressure increases slightly to account for the increased effect of gravity – mine does not and as a result my heart is forced to pump faster to keep blood going to my brain. My heart rate can increase by up to forty beats per minute just from getting up off the couch.

Symptoms include dizziness, an inability to stand up for long periods of time, nausea, headaches, fainting (though thankfully I have never experienced that one), digestive problems, fatigue (like I didn’t already have enough of that), heart palpitations (just casually in the middle of the night when you haven’t moved for hours) and even shortness of breath. Of all of these, I would have to say that the heart palpitations are the worst. They do not hurt exactly, but they are terrifying – especially before I had my diagnosis – and make it hard to breathe.

It is hard not to panic when your body is doing it’s very best to simulate a panic attack.

I have a friend whom I met online who suspected they had POTS and I’d been aware of it for some time before I started to consider whether I myself might have it too. I’ve read that about a third of those suffering from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome also have POTS so it wasn’t a wholly unlikely scenario. I had also read the NHS page for it and noted that I had many of the symptoms, however, this was not conclusive proof to me as the problem with autoimmune diseases is that the symptoms overlap a lot.

Then I started a course of birth control pills and my CFS specialist, Dr S, wanted me to take measurements of my blood pressure to check that it wasn’t causing any problems. As it turns out I have fairly low blood pressure, so there’s no risk of getting a stroke from my daily dose of oestrogen. More importantly, I noticed how my heart rate would increase far beyond normal levels if I took a reading whilst sitting down and then another after standing up. This was the proof I needed to self-diagnose.

From there on out it was a case of proving the matter, so we brought it up with Dr S and she referred us to a cardiologist.

There was a bit of a kerfuffle when we arrived at his clinic, as it turned out to be a children’s hospital, which as a nineteen year old I was theoretically not supposed to be treated at. On the bright side, there were a lot of cartoon fish on the walls. Whoever decided that adults don’t need cute animal drawings in hospitals fundamentally misunderstands what it’s like to be in a hospital.

Eventually we managed to sort the whole situation out and I was taken downstairs to have an electrocardiogram. This was to test the electrical activity of my heart – don’t ask me how that works or what exactly the point was because the science went over my head. All I can say is that it didn’t hurt and there was something oddly exciting about being hooked up to a bunch of wires. But that might just be me and all the superhero media I consume.

Then I went to meet the cardiologist, Dr D, and give him a history of my symptoms.

It had not even crossed my mind up until that point that there might be something “seriously” wrong with me, by which I mean something life threatening, so needless to say it rather came as a shock when the cardiologist did an ultrasound of my heart to check that it didn’t have any holes (and I quote). In retrospect it might have been a joke, but it certainly didn’t land well with me.

The fact that I had a cold and unpleasantly slimy machine on my chest and was lying there with only a fairly ratty, old bra to protect my modesty did not help. This again was something that had not occurred to me and I was deeply grateful for the presence of my mother in the room so that she could fill the awkward silence with small talk and I could focus on breathing normally. It is extremely strange to hear your own heartbeat sounding like a foetus’s on TV and be painfully aware of the fact that anyone around will literally be able to hear your nerves.

Ultrasound over with, chest wiped down and clothes thankfully put back on we sat down to discuss what was next. Dr D was fairly confident from my description that I did have POTS but obviously I had to go through the whole process before it could be official. In the meantime he gave us some advice about dealing with the symptoms:

1.       Drink lots of water. Aim for three litres a day.

2.       Eat lots of salt. Aim for ten milligrams a day.

3.       Stand and sit up slowly and jiggle your legs to get the blood moving.

4.       Exercise.

This I interpreted as a prescription for Pringles and an excuse to hold in the face of people who tell me to stop fidgeting. My mind happily slid over the recommendation of exercise as a “Problem for later me” A.K.A something I hoped I’d be able to put off indefinitely.

Building up muscle, fitness and stamina are all worthy things and have helped now that I’ve achieved them, but in conjunction with my CFS they have often seemed impossible goals. Also, I like sitting down.

I shall now elaborate on the third recommendation, which I follow every morning, doing a funny little dance about my room to bring my limbs to life. I pity the person who lives below me in my student accommodation… at least I am rarely up before eleven. The hilarious point about this was that Dr D took it upon himself to give us a rather long and overly serious demonstration, standing up from behind his desk and jiggling about on the spot with a completely straight face.

Both my mother and I were struggling to maintain the same level of facial control.

It was a couple of weeks before we could return to London to embark on the next step of diagnosis: getting a blood pressure monitor fitted that must then stay attached for a whole twenty hours, taking measurements on the hour every hour. This was something of a trial as I had to walk around with a bunch of thick tubing wrapped round my neck and with the machine strapped round my bicep.

I garnered a lot of stares as people must have assumed I had something serious going on. The fact that it beeped loudly and inflated with a sound like an airbed being pumped up at every measurement, did not make it inconspicuous to say the least. It also meant that I barely slept through the combination of loud noises and the clamp tightening on my arm.

I was thoroughly exhausted the next day when we went to drop it off and then continue on to a hospital in order to do the tilt test. This involves being strapped to a table which is then tilted upright from the horizontal and then being stuck there for the next twenty minutes (feels like three hours) whilst measurements of your blood pressure and heart rate are taken. I already felt ghastly but by the end of this I was ready to curl up in a ball on the floor and stay there for the rest of my life.

The doctor administering the test ran through the results with us, confirming that I had POTS – though technically we still had to wait for Dr D to give the all clear as it were – and then confidently asserting that I didn’t have CFS and certainly didn’t have any mental health problems and should stop taking my antidepressant straight away since it was all because of POTS and once I started doing some exercise I’d be fine.

Right…. Thanks Karen.

One more appointment later I had my official diagnosis. Alas, having trekked halfway across London to make this appointment, it only lasted ten minutes and mostly consisted of me being told to come back in six months when I had tried some exercise and then we’d see about medication.

We have postponed this reunion indefinitely as I have seen little change for the better – though in truth I have not gotten started on the rigorous exercise plan he had in mind – but nor is it sufficiently bad that I am in desperate need of medication.

I have found that the most useful tool in combatting my symptoms are compression garments as they help with my circulation. I have some tights, a knee support, gloves and several random bits of tubing that can be used anywhere. They reduce pain and allow me to stand up for longer.

Mod H

[dlamp-dictator]

Allen Rambles About Writing

So as I’m getting back into writing I’m starting to feel the same kind of anxiety that I felt when I started taking my drawing and art a little more serious. Back then I made a Rambling discussing how I felt about the situation, making a message to future Allen to not worry about how your drawings look when you feel down about your progress and starting to compare yourself to others. 

And looking back, I’m surprise how well I know myself since every time I thought up a counter point I was instantly shot down by the bluntness of 2018-Allen’s demands of not taking my hobby as a seriously as an actual job. 

But back on topic, I wanted to do a sort of Rambling like that again, this time focusing on writing. Though honestly, a lot of that stuff I wrote in that original post on drawing can be applied here. However, there are a few points I could add to that, so... here we are. 

But to get right to the point...

Points that Remain the Same

Just a quick rehash of the points I made in the art Rambling that still hold water:

Much like drawing, writing as a hobby, not a profession. You can fail, fumble, and fall all you like and it will not effect my daily life.

If any criticism you recieve feels pretenious and self-gratifying then it probably is. Best to remove them from your mind entirely as their points aren’t for your sake, but their own.

Again, you are not writing for money, so no need to worry about screwing people over finacially. Then only thing their wasting is their time, and their time is theirs to do with as they please.

And with that out of the way, here’s a few new things I want to say.

Your Stuff Probably Isn’t Great

This isn’t to say you should be pessimistic, but you need to understand you’re not making the next bestseller or the deepest of stories exploring the human condition. You’re just writing out what you think might be a cool story. 

For example, right now my stories consist of two fanfics and two original stories. On the fanfic side you have a tsundere aikido girl fighting a bunch of wacky characters that includes a female shounen karate fighter, a taekwondo fighter with an impoverished dojo, and goddamn Rulue from the Puyo Puyo series. The second fanfic includes a tomboy cannibal pretending to be Batman and fighting... basically anyone I think from obscure video games and lesser known/discussed manga. 

In terms of my original stories we have a story about kung fu girls being stuck in the delinquent dorm of their kung fu school forced to fight bullies, gangsters, yakuza hieresses, cultists, and evil priestesses... also yes all these things happen at school. And the second original story is about a forest ninja and her ragtag group of warriors that consist of a Black sukeban, a genderbent Goro Majima, a shy archer girl, and the main character’s sister who is a ballet dancer. 

None of these stories are exactly high art. But that’s okay, not much is. 

And this seems to be a nice segue into talking about...

The Bell Curve

This is the Bell Curve. The Bell Curve is a type of distribution method that shows the likely probability of most variables in a given equation, statistic and general data distribution. This is usually used to determine a fair average among any given amount of data to see what the majority of information lies on any give graph or form of measurement.

Okay, that was a lot of mathematic terms, and unlike my friend Infall I majored in the Humanities, not Mathetics, so I’ll stop there. 

But the point is, this graphic shows where the majority of... things will land. Most... things that make up the average of whatever... thing you’re looking at will be in the center where the curve is. Anything on the ends are the highest and lowest points of data. 

In short, most things in existence are average and will be average, middling, and ordinary. That how averages work. This is what most media and statistics falls into. Very few things created are truly bad, just below average at worse. Most things are, in fact, average. If everything was extraordinary, then there would just be a new scale to maintain some form of equalibrium. 

Hence why the Bell Curve is used in the first place.

I say this not to discourage anyone wanting to write the best story ever, but to just let you know that even if you don’t hit your target goal, if you land within the middle of this curve things show be okay. 

Again, you’re not doing this for payment or as a job, you’re doing this for fun. This isn’t to say you shouldn’t shoot for the moon, but to understand that at worst, you’ll be below average. 

And that’s okay. 

Not everything created can be great, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t good. Not everything needs to strike gold when silver is still valuable. If you get hung up on being the best, you’ll never achieve good. I’ve got a bad habit of trying to make a chapter of a story absolutely perfect before posting, and all that does is make it take a month to post when it could had taken two weeks. Sometimes I honestly need the extra time due to working two jobs, but it’s rarely needed. 

And honestly, for those that say the worse thing something could be is average, I’d like to remind your that 60%-70% if any media is average. To throw out that average and only focusing on the best and worse... I pity you.

But moving on.

General Writing Advice

In all seriousness though, there are a few things to keep in mind when writing. I’m going to be serious for a moment and give a few bits of advice and things I keep in mind when writing:

Worldbuilding is a double-edged sword. It can be cool to explore and explain how certain things in your world work, but it also means you have to adhear to every text dump of exposition you mention. Try to only exposite things that are really important for the audience to know and keeps notes on the side for you to follow as you write it out your story.

Your audience isn’t as plothole-searching as you think, nor are they as thorough when reading something out of enjoyment as you were when you’re tightening up your narrative. Don’t worry too much about detail unless your doing some mystery/intrique plot. Most people just want to read a story that interests them, so just relax and writing something fun and entertaining to you.

On that note, the human imagination is a lot more powerful than you think. You don’t have to go into extreme detail about everything. Your audience can fill in a lot more of the blanks than you think, and what they think up might be more interesting than that 3-paragraph description on your main character’s height, weight, eye-color, and each individual freckle.

Again, relax you’re likely writing as a hobby, not to pay the bills. Just write what feels right and everything else will fall into place.

Oh, and big piece of advice before I close this little motivational writing post.

Shut the Fuck Up

Seriously. If there’s one piece of writing advice you should keep in mind, it’s to not Ramble. Ironic coming from me, but keeping prose and descriptions to a minimum helps a lot more than you think. I’ve said this several times on my RP blogs and I’ll say it here:

More Words =/= Better. More Words = More Words.

 And just prattling on about a character’s backstory or exposition is boring. Be sure to keep that in mind as you write. Try not to go on for too long about a description without very reason.

Anyway, that’ll be it for this Rambling. Sadly, TW3K crashed on me today in the late game, so I guess Total War Tuesday will... be back on Tuesday.

In any case, see you later folks!

[chokeonmydickgrayson]

Headcanon #13

How the Batfam would react on your birthday

Dick:

You hate your birthday immensely. It’s just another ordinary day of the year, so much so that most people tended to forget it was your birthday all together, everyone except Dick.

He’d make the entire day about what you want, what you needs, and what you desire. He’d start your birthday morning off by allowing you to sleep in, he leaving the bed so not to disturb you. God knows you could sleep for days if left alone. On his way out of the room he’d brush your hair from your forehead and press his lips lightly to your temple before leaving. Your body would be appreciative as you flounder yourself around on the bed enjoying the newly opened territory for your arms and legs to spread out creating a starfish effect.

He’d spend the morning cooking a fresh stack of fluffy and light chocolate chip pancakes, topped with your favorite type of syrup and a dollop of whipped cream, one singular birthday candle of your favorite color place dead center. The plate didn’t look the nicest, nor did it look appetizing but he did do his best and after all it was always the thought that counts.

Once done cooking you breakfast there would be a mess of dishes in the sink, along with a sticky mess of eggs flour and syrup on the counters, which he claims he’ll clean late. (Most likely you’d end up cleaning most of it. Dick would probably give you a not so helpful hand however. He’d probably be more interest in slapping your rear end with a twisted towel and playfully nibbling your cheeks, but that was a later issue.) He’d bring a tray into bedroom, it holding the pancakes as well as a glass of orange juice and a birthday card. “Babe....babe....baby!....Y/N!” Youre eyes would flash open at the sound of your name, your body snapping straight up as you clutch at your chest in panic. “What? What’s wrong?...” you’d pant short of breath from the terror you’d just endored. He’d smile and sneak his lips right up against yours, spreading as much love and passion as he could through the kiss, your lips making a quiet pop as he pulled away and placed the tray on your lap. “happy birthday baby, I’ve semi successfully made you breakfast in bed. I’m sorry they look a little sloppy” he’d nervously laugh rubbing his neck. “I uh, I was trying to shape them like little hearts but clearly that didn’t work, so they’re uh more like little butts....” you’d probably snort and laugh at the comparison you definitely seeing what he means. Your non dominant hand would reach for his hand as you ate away at the pancakes every so often holding the fork up for him to share. They honestly really were delicious despite their looks. You smile and gently tap the bedding next to you motioning for him to sit. He willingly oblige and set himself down next to you.

After breakfast was done, he would gather your favorite movies and games and hook everything up in the bedroom. You two would spend all day laughing and cuddling (though after you defeated him in Mario Kart by throwing that turtle shell at him, your relationship was slightly wounded, but not enough to stop the festivities.)

During the movies things between you and Dick would heat up, his fingers dancing at the mouth of your pants before sliding down them, making for one very large distraction. You probably wouldn’t even focus on the movie from that point on. The rest of the day would consist of you two participating in a series of on again off again sexual activities. It would be perfect, the exact birthday you’d want. To spend time with someone who loves you. You’d appreciate all the little efforts Dick went through to make this day special for you.

Jason:

You would dread opening your eyes. Every year when your birthday rolled around you did your absolute best to ignore it, you wouldn’t even bring it up to anyone. In fact you avoided most people because you didn’t wanna hear the phony well wishes and the fake insincere “happy birthdays!”. You’d try to take some advantages of your special day however, maybe by trying to catch some extra Z’s or by attempting to stay in bed all day, nothing too over the top.

So when Jason wakes you up early by wrapping those thick muscular arms around your waist while those strong rough palms of his traveling up your torso to caress and hug the curves of your chest, your slightly unamused. You would just want some rest. You’d give out a soft groan, to which he’d lean himself into your ear while his hand traveled down the insides of your arms to land itself into your palms, his fingers treading around your own as he whispered “sorry baby I didn’t mean to wake you....I just wanted to be the first one wish MY girl a happy birthday.”

Your heart would stop in your chest your hand squeezing his tightly, almost annoyed that he knew. How did he fucking know it was your birthday? You’d never told him “who told you? I wanna know so i can rip their tongue out through their nostrils” you’d growl out to which he’d be highly confused. His hand would release from yours his arms opening so he could easily reposition your bodies so you would face him. Those deadly blue eyes of his would lock on with yours and scan every inch of them. “I found the information by myself thank you very much. Come on Y/N, you think I woulda let some woman I don’t know for shit into my bed? I know the sayings keep your friends close enemies closer but for fucks sake babe I’m not trying to get myself offed. A lot of people in this town want me dead, I had to make sure you weren’t one of em’. I did some snooping and I found out your birthday....I didn’t think you’d have a god damn fucking fit about it.” You’d sigh and collapse your body into his, your nose rubbing softly against his jawline you inhaling his scent before placing soft kisses along his neck. “I....don’t really like to celebrate my birthday alright? Ive got some jacked up memories locked away nice and tight in this loon bin up here, and I’m not quite ready to set them free.” Your arms would move to seek comfort around his torso, giving him a gentle squeeze.

Truthfully Jason would understand, he couldn’t disagree about that whole high priority list of shitty birthdays and top level disappointment they brought. He’d wrap his arms securely around you, his legs spreading apart to consume your body between them, he pressing kisses to your temple. “Well, I guess there goes my big plan for today out the windows” Youd feel almost guilty for throwing such a fit. It was clear Jay had something planned for the two of you....”What cockamamie shit fest did you have in store for today Jay” you’d sighe reluctantly. You should at least hear him out if your gonna shoot the man down. He clicked his tongue against his teeth sucking down a breath in aggravation “well i WAS gonna take you down to Eddies where we met and I WAS buy you a few birthday beers, and maybe recreate the night we met...but hey ya don’t wann celebrate your birthday fine by me” he huffed out his voice starting to draw softer as he finished his sentences. He’d gotten himself caught up in reliving that night. Best day of his life....you tried to hustle him for money and when he attempted to take it back you nearly broke his god damn nose. It was the hottest fucking thing ever. He ended up buying you a drink, and after a few of them you ended up back at his place, naked with him in bed. Ever since then he’s been hooked on you in every way. Just everything about you, your attitude, your determination, your guts, and especially that right hook of yours turned his knees weak and capture his heart. “We’ll just sit here and you can fucking pout one out for all I care. Excuse my ass for trying to be a good boyfriend”

Riddled with guilt you’d let your finger tips ghost over the sides of his neck, your hands moving to his rest on his cheeks as you pulled him closely stealing a soft kiss from him. That all sounded like the best birthday you could ever wished for. You press yourself into the kiss turning the intensity up, humming as you feel the sensation of his hands grip onto your waist. He’d lock your hips together, causing you to break the kiss with a disappointed sigh, fingers gently rubbing against his stubble “I guess where going to the bar for my birthday.....but if you start singing, I’m gonna slap your lips right off your face and I’m leaving you there”

Tim:

Truthfully you’d almost wanna avoid Tim, you knew he’d most likely figured out your birthday by this point in your relationship. How couldn’t he have? He was the smartest man you’d ever met and one hell of a great detective. Figuring out your birthday for him must of been child’s play. You’d sigh and strech yourself out shuffling your way to the kitchen where’d you’d find a plate of scrambled eggs (Tims speciality. Honestly it was the only thing he knew how to make. Everything else ended in a gelatinous molten mess that requires an emergency team to extinguish). He’d smile and look up at you “hey babe, I made us some breakfast...i call it le scrambled eggo and le orange juice!” He grin attempting (and failing) some weird cross between a French and Italian accent, complete with equally failing hand gestures. You’d give a snort and gently nudge his side with a giggle, though this wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary. He made breakfast for you two virtually every morning, (well every morning that you didn’t mind eating eggs) had he not figured out your birthday?

You continue to go through your daily routines together, the entire ordeal seeming very.....ordinary? There was no sense of suprise, nothing that struck you as special....just an ordinary day? You can’t help but feel a little saddened by it, though genuinely what did you expect your birthday was always a defeated reflection of just how well things always turned out for you.

You’d grumble to yourself while your body pressed into his on the couch, you two watching a bit of television together. He’d sling his arms around the back of the couch, one arm moving to slide around your shoulder. His hands would begin to gently message and rub the exposed flesh of your upper arm as his lips would move in to press against yours. Honestly a little hurt by his inability to figure out your birthday, (petty yes, but god damn it was your birthday and regardless of if you liked it or not he should have at least figured out it was your birthday and wished well beings today.) Your shoulders scrunch and you turn your head away from Tim. Instantly his chest aches as he looks at you with those broken puppy eyes, he having nothing but confusion written across those strong handsome facial features. “Hey what was that about? Did I do something wrong?...” You’d shake your head and push his arm off of your shoulder. A pout would press its way firmly across to lips sagging the corners of your mouth down. “Tim do know what to day is?” He’d look at you with a raised brow, most likely thinking you were having some crazy mood swing. “Moooonday?..”

You’d roll your eyes and gather yourself from the couch, storming off to the bedroom slamming the door shut behind you. All you wanted was to just curl up and cry at this point, though you were unsure as to why you cared so much about this whole not figuring out your birthday deal. It’s not like you liked your birthday. You’d let your back slump against the door with a single upset sigh. Tim would immediately chase after you, hands moving to twist the door knob and shove the door open. “y/n can you just talk to me instead of storming away please? I’ll take full responsibility for whatever it is I’ve done, I’m an asshole, I’m a dirt bag I’m some other third thing girls scream when they’re made at their boyfriends-“ to which you’d cut him off by screaming “dick!” He’d huff and cross his arms “did Dick do something to upset you? I’ll kill him, I’m pretty sure Bruce likes me more anyway. I’m sure I could get Batman to stall police commissioner Gordon and that’ll take the heat off of me for a while and give me time to get us outta Gotham-“ You’d groan and swing the door open, your eyes glossed with a layer of tears “Dick didn’t do anything wrong! I’m calling you a dick because you didn’t....you didn’t wish me a happy birthday. I know I didn’t tell you but, I just...I don’t know I figured-“

He’d cut you off lips pressing against yours to silence your hysterics starting. “I did know....I knew today was your birthday, but I acted like I didn’t know.” You almost feel the anger boiling with in you as you shove him away, he sensing your anger. With wide eyes he’d hold his hands up quickly trying to explain “I didn’t say anything to you because I also know you don’t like your birthday babe! I didn’t want to make a big deal of it...” His hands would move to yours he locking your grips together as he pulled you closer “I didn’t honesty mean to hurt your feelings, you know I’d never do that intentionally....I’m sorry I fucked up. I shoulda said something at least. I was just going to keep things light and casual today, make it like every other day. Let me make this up to you? I know today was a giant swing and a miss, but what if we salvage the rest of tonight...” His lips would move to suction against your neck, palms releasing yours to ghost gently around to your back side “and in the morning well redo the entire day, I’m talking breakfast in bed, maybe something birthday-ish like a muffin, then I’ll take you out into town for dinner and a movie. Afterwords we can head down town to your favorite store and I’ll let you pick out whatever you want....”

You smile at the idea, lips parting to let a soft gasp pass your lips as his hands press into your rear, fingers gently digging into the meat and lifting your cheek. Your body would move instinctively into his palms your lips hovering above his own now you whispering out a single “please...” before allowing your body to fold into his touch. He’d hum and lift you into his arms wrapping your legs around his waist easily carrying you to the bedroom. You can damn sure bet that he made true on that promise. He lavished your body until you begged him for mercy, and when morning came did the best to recreate the perfect day he should have done in the first place. God why were women so complicated, next year he was just gonna ask you what you wanted.

Bruce:

He’d wake you up nice and early, his lips moving to take your earlobe between them. He’d gently suck at the flesh, hands moving to run tenderly across your body’s natural curvature he whispering into your ear with that deep gruffy morning voice of his “hmm happy birthday darling...I’ve got a lot planned for today. We gotta get a move on though it’s time to get up. I want to take your for brunch and afterwords we need to make a stop at Wayne Tower. I’ve gotta pick up something from my office.” Groggily you’d roll yourself over to face him, your hands blindly searching to hold his face, thumbs brushing the quickly growing morning stubble that scuffed his cheeks. “Hm...it’s my birthday Mr. Wayne, don’t you think I should decide what we do?” you all but pur, lower body moving to press against his. Your toes would gently brush against his shins as you move to slip your leg between his. He’d let out a soft hum, hands falling to your thigh, hooking it up closer on his hip. Those big palms of his would rub gently at the underside of your thigh he softly patting the area. “Ordinarily I’d let you have your way, but we need to get a move on things. I promised Lucious I wouldn’t be by the office to late, he has somewhere to be tonight” This response would warrant an aggravated sigh as you threw your head back with a pout. He’d give a chuckle gently pressing kisses to the exposed part of your neck just under your chin. “You can have your way all you want tonight Y/N. Trust me, if our schedule wasn’t so air tight today, I would stay here in this bed with you all day”

Reluctantly you’d manage an agreement to go along with the daily schedule. Now you were grumpy because you had to get dressed for brunch and because you have to stop at Wayne tower. (You knew “going to Wayne Tower to see Lucious” meant he had to play Batman for a while. Sometimes you hated that stupid cowl.) Brunch with Bruce Wayne meant this was most likely not a place where jeans and your typical choice in shirt were acceptable. No for this place a beautiful black floral maxi dress would do. It’d drape your body, a slit clean up the side just about to mid thigh. The sleeves would be short, just capping the tops of your shoulders. Your wrist would be decorated with silver bracelets including the stunning white gold charm bracelet Bruce got you for your anniversary last year. You cherished it, not because of its monetary value, but because of the way he locked it onto your wrist and kissed the top of your hand whispering “I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you to the ends of this world and back Y/N.” You sigh at the memory.

You’d play along and accompany Bruce to brunch. Admittedly you weren’t too upset seeing as to how delicious everything was and hey, who could be against alcohol in the morning? You two managed to kill off a few hours of your day at brunch the time being 3 in the afternoon. The car pulled up to Wayne Towers, he moving to open your door. “I promise we’ll be quick, then we can go home. I think Al’s making your favorite for dinner tonight” he’d laugh. You two would make it to his office, you surprised. To your surprise he wasn’t stretching the truth when he said it would be a quick trip to Wayne tower. Lucious would smile and give you hug, extending a very happy birthday from the Fox family. You’d smile and accept. It’s taken about an hour for the entire meeting between the two, Bruce smiling back at you as he extended a hand out for you. “Come on we’ve gotta get home, Alfreds asking where we are” he hummed.

You two would arrive home after about another hour, for some reason Bruce had decided to take the longer route home than normal, though you didn’t think much of it. You were mesmerized by the hold of his hand on yours and the way his thumbs gently grazed your knuckles. By the time you two would pull up to the Manor it’s be around 5. All you wanted to do was go upstairs change out of this god forsaken dress and rip Bruce out of that tantalizingly tight pink button up he wore (he matching the flowers on your dress) and make your way with him just as you intended to this morning. When you open the door you begin to pull your hair out of a pony tail, your fingers releasing the elastic hair tie sending it flying across the room as your body flinched in shock at the massive change in volume as everyone in the house screamed “SUPRISE!” You look around heart racing out of your chest, Damian holding a camera to your face “I don’t know father, I think she looks more terrified than surprised.” He’d say half heartedly throwing the camera at Dick. The boys would smile and one by one come over and press a kiss to your cheek and give you a hug “happy birthday Y/N” of course Dick being the brown nose he is would smile and hit you with the “You don’t look a day over 20” to which Tim would interject with “ah, 21. Hey a girls gotta be able to drink at least.” At first you’d be a little furious at the party but at second glance you thought it was sweet. Bruce’s boys, Al, Lucious and his family. All your friends and loved ones in one spot. You’d give a smile and lean in close to Bruce softly kissing at his cheek “you didn’t have to go through all this trouble baby, I would have been fine with a romantic night in bed together” to which he’d smile and coil an arm around your waist and chuckle “don’t worry after cake and once Lucious and the boys all leave I’m yours, you can for lack of better terms ride me until one of us breaks” he whisper with a wink.

[rolypolywl]

Hello, and welcome to Roly-Poly weight loss. I’m your host, Roly-Poly.

Welcome to day 22!

And today is a weigh in day, so let’s see how that is going…. 270.

Not bad!

So today we’re going back to our routine, so let me start the timer.

Okay, so today I want to talk about step tracking. Now, if you’re like me, I’m sure you’ve heard that you’re supposed to walk 10,000 steps a day. Many fitness trackers, including my fitbit, have that as the default setting, so it seems pretty important.

Now, if you’re coming from a sedentary place, like many roly poly people, 10k steps just seems like a huge number! I was certainly not hitting that number when I first started walking.

In fact, I set my first fitbit at 5k steps, and worked up to getting that number. Then 6,000, then 5,000. There are still plenty of days when I don’t hit that number.

Now, when I was working at a more active job, and climbing all those stairs I’ve mentioned, I was usually hitting 6,000 consistently, and with a little effort I could hit 7,000 in a day.

I also, as I’ve mentioned, walked 5ks, which are 3.1 miles. If you have a particularly sedentary day, only hitting 1,000 or 2,000 steps, that hour of walking will bump you up to 7,000. At least it did for me.

I could only hit 10,000 if I was up on my feet all day, or walking in a 10k or something like that.

Roly Mama, in fact, has 5,000 as her goal, because she isn’t doing those long walks, and that’s a reasonable goal for her to hit in a day, provided she does a half hour walk.

Well, according to the Mayo Clinic, our numbers are pretty typical.

“The average American walks 3,000 to 4,000 steps a day, or roughly 1.5 to 2 miles. It's a good idea to find out how many steps a day you walk now, as your own baseline. Then you can work up toward the goal of 10,000 steps by aiming to add 1,000 extra steps a day every two weeks.  If you're already walking more than 10,000 steps a day, or if you're fairly active and trying to lose weight, you'll probably want to set your daily step goal higher.”

But the’re still encouraging us to get to that 10,000. And Self pushes it even further.

“Fitness pros have been citing 12,000 steps as a new target, which begs the question: Is 10,000 steps just not good enough anymore? ” They interviewed two trainers who encouraged people to aim for 12,000 instead of 10,000.

MyFitnessPal sums up the issue pretty well.

“When you’re just starting an exercise program, you may not have the confidence or ability to get anywhere near 10,000 steps (even if you go for daily walks). This lofty goal might backfire as consistently falling short of your goals may discourage you from exercising. If you swim or cycle, those activities don’t register as steps, so your count for the day won’t accurately reflect in your activity level. Plus, if you get 10,000 steps just from walking to and from work, you may feel best when you get 15,000 or 20,000 steps per day, instead of stopping at 10,000. Ultimately, “tracking step count is highly individual and there’s no perfect number,””

Now, we’ve looked at research in the past that says that that half hour a day walk is what we need to become more healthy. If that only equals about 3,500-4,000, do we really need to hit 10,000 a day? That’s three half-hour walks a day! Or 12,000?

When you’re coming from a sedentary place, that seems insane. And just waiting for us to fail. Even the idea from the Mayo Clinic of adding 1,000 steps a day seems like a pretty steep incline. Do we really need to hit that target? And that quickly?

Well, it seems like the answer is no. And kind of yes.

Let’s start with “no.”

First, let’s look at where that 10,000 number comes from. Some scientific study, right? Yeah-no.

This article from The Atlantic actually gets to the origin of this number.

““In 1965, a Japanese company was selling pedometers, and they gave it a name that, in Japanese, means ‘the 10,000-step meter.’”  Based on conversations she’s had with Japanese researchers, Lee believes that name was chosen for the product because the character for “10,000” looks sort of like a man walking. As far as she knows, the actual health merits of that number have never been validated by research.”

Yeah, that’s it. That’s where the 10,000 number comes from.

So now let’s look at the “yes”.

Now, since then, people have actually initiated studies that seem to validate this number, but Self points out a problem with that.

“It's important to note that while research in this area can provide interesting insight, there are some limitations.  For example, if a study only looks at the benefits of 10,000 steps and doesn't compare it to other step counts, the research can't conclude how much better 10,000 steps is for a specific health outcome. (Or if there's even a difference at all.)”

For example, in one study, “overweight participants were asked to walk 10,000 steps daily for 12 weeks. The 30 participants who consistently reached that goal lost weight and had a decrease in anxiety, depression, anger, and fatigue.”

But, aside from the fact that a pool of 30 people is insanely tiny to draw data from, the study doesn’t seem to have tested other areas. Maybe people who hit 7,000 consistently also had less weight, anxiety, and fatigue, just not as much.

Similarly, “A study where 355 participants were asked to take more than 10,000 steps a day found that there was a decrease in blood pressure among participants after six months.” Which is great news, but again there doesn’t seem to be any control group at a lower step count.

And that’s important for a number of reasons, as the Atlantic points out.

“That nuance can mean a lot to people who want to be less sedentary but aren’t sure how to start or whether they can do enough to make a difference, says Lindsay Wilson, a clinical professor of geriatric medicine at the University of North Carolina School of Medicine. “I don’t think setting the bar at 10,000 steps is a very successful way to approach exercise,” she says. “Some people are not walkers. They don’t have safe neighborhoods, or they feel unsteady on sidewalks. You need to be more creative. Is this a person who needs to go to a gym class or the pool, or sit on a stationary bike?””

And Self adds, “It also depends on what other activities you're doing in a day. If you take an indoor cycling class or do a strength training workout, you may not rack up as many steps as you would if you went for a run or walked a lot one day. That doesn’t mean you’re being unhealthy or that the other activities you’re doing don’t "count"—especially if you're hitting those 75 minutes of vigorous activity per week.”

So are there any studies that look at lower step counts? Or just being more active in general? And, it turns out, the answer is yes!

For example, Self notes “One study showed that participants who reached 7,500 steps or more were less likely to report poor sleep, while those who reached 5,000 steps or fewer were more likely to report poor sleep.”

That shows a benefit at just 7,500 steps, up from 5,000. So that’s promising to those of us who are looking to incrementally increase our activity!

Harvard Professor I-Min Lee performed a study “observing the step totals and mortality rates of more than 16,000 elderly American women.”

As she explained to The Atlantic, ““The basic finding was that at 4,400 steps per day, these women had significantly lower mortality rates compared to the least active women,” Lee explains. If they did more, their mortality rates continued to drop, until they reached about 7,500 steps, at which point the rates leveled out. Ultimately, increasing daily physical activity by as little as 2,000 steps—less than a mile of walking—was associated with positive health outcomes for the elderly women.”

So there you have it, in this study, an increase as little as 2,000 steps showed improvement. If you’re the kind of person who struggles to get to 5,000 steps, don’t feel like you’re a failure for not getting to 10,000.

““I’m not saying don’t get 10,000 steps. If you can get 10,000 steps, more power to you,” says Lee. “But if you’re someone who’s sedentary, even a very modest increase brings you significant health benefits.””

Now, all that said, what can you do if you do want to increase your daily step count? Tracking your steps on a pedometer or fitness tracker can help, and adding a half hour daily walk - like we did for No Zero Day May - can certainly boost your numbers.

If you’re in the moderate area - 6,000-8,000, you should consider the app, StepBet.

It looks at your past activity and calculates an “active” and a “stretch” goal for you. Actives at minimum are 7,000 and Stretches are 9,000.

Then, you join a bet! Usually costing about $30-40 to enter, the standard format is 6 weeks, needing to hit your stretch goal twice, your active goal 4 times, and with one “free” day. If you can make those numbers for the whole time, you win a chunk of the pot!

There are also variations, such as shorter, 4 week bets, no stretch days, no free days, and similar. I loved doing these, because it was great motivation to get that last thousand steps in before bed if I was a little low.

And the extra money at the end was nice! Sometimes I only made $2 back over my bet, sometimes $10! The great thing was the guarantee. If you won you bet, you would always get your money back. They’ll forgo their own cut to make sure that all winners at least make their money back.

So if you complete the steps, you can’t lose!

And, as you finish stepbets, you become more active, and your active and stretch goals inch higher. It’s a great way to slowly (over a month, not a day), increase your step goals.

Again, however, the minimums are 7,000 and 9,000, so if you’re just hitting 5,000 a day comfortably, and stretching to 6,000, this might push you too far.

If you still want a little extra stepping motivation, but StepBet isn’t right for you, check out Charity Miles.

Regardless of your step count level, it will work for you. You pick the charity you want to support from your list, start up the tracker, and get walking! Or running, or biking, or whatever! They track all kinds of activities. And when you finish, their corporate sponsors will donate money to the charity of your choice!

You can even join teams and help support or compete against each other.

It is a great way to add an extra motivation to getting your daily exercise or steps!

And that’s it for today!

This has been Roly Poly Weight loss. As always, I am your host, Roly Poly. Please share your experiences with the hashtag #StepCount. You can even share your step goals or achievements. I’d love to see them!

And please join me next time!