#Social Science Assignment Help

[helpmyassignment028]

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[jakesimfromstatefarm]

the art & science of parenting 101 ─ p. js

↳ summary ── the art & science of parenting 101 (PSY1009): in this interactive course, students will explore the psychological, social, and biological foundations of parenthood. through a mix of theory and hands-on practice, you'll master the art of raising a simulated baby—aka the 'robot child'. late-night feedings, tantrum taming, and crisis control are all part of the deal.   what you didn't expect to be part of the deal? getting paired with jay park—the last person you'd trust to raise, well, anything. you’re pretty sure he couldn’t even take care of a pet rock. now, you’re stuck co-parenting this robot baby together for 40% of your final grade.  warning: sleep deprivation is guaranteed. and maybe, just maybe, some unexpected feelings for your disaster of a partner. good luck! 

↳ pairing ── jay park x y/n [ft. enha members!]

↳ genre ── e2l!au, college!au, (fake)parenting!au, he-fell-first, she-fell-harder type beat lolz || fluff, crack

↳ ✎ᝰ. 20.5k [ONCE AGAIN -- this was not intentional..if you know me i just have too much fun writing sometimes & get too attached to the characters...]

↳ contains ── mentions of parenting & parental neglect (sorta, only a smidge of like five words), crack! bc if you know me i self indulge in crack whoops, jay & y/n being opposites & school rivals, jay's annoying smirk like a million times, reader & jay are psych majors, jay's also a photographer, cheesy ass kisses, jay & reader are awkward! so awkward! there’s SO much tension . but in a cute awkward crush way

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── omg it’s finally done. tell me why it took me so long to finish, i promise i didn’t mean to but life’s been busier lately :’) aNyways! ugh i luv writing e2l!jay for some reason,,,he fits the trope so well in my eyes heh but i hope you all like him & the characters as much as i enjoyed writing them !!! as busy as i am i love indulging in my crack x enha writes :P hope u enjoy & tell me what you think <333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Welcome to PSY1009, The Art & Science of Parenting 101! Throughout the next 12 weeks, we’re going to dive deep into the wondrous world of parenting—dirty diapers and all. To kick off our course, we’re starting with our campus-famous project: raising your very own robot baby for the first half of the semester (with the help of your assigned partner, of course). Before our first class, we ask that you complete this pre-project questionnaire on your current views and opinions about parenting. No pressure—there are no right or wrong answers (maybe only judgements from your future robot offspring)!

Q1 – The Art & Science of Parenting 101 aims to apply different psychological approaches to parenting. What theories and methods do you believe are important to parenting? 

Y/N's Submission [8:25AM, September 18th]:

"I strongly believe that effective parenting revolves around a strict routine, which can be reinforced through the principles of operant conditioning, as developed by B.F. Skinner. Proper feeding schedules, consistent nap times, and regular development check-ins are essential—I think a structured timetable would ensure a baby's needs are met efficiently and consistently. With a set schedule and a focus on developmental milestones, I believe we can maximize a child's growth potential, even if it's just a robot baby.”

Q2 – What do you expect to learn and gain out of this co-parenting experience?  

Y/N's Submission [8:29AM, September 18th]:  

"I expect to confirm that a well-organized system is the key to successful parenting. I want to test my hypothesis that if you follow a set structure, yes, even with a robot baby, things will run smoothly. I am hoping that this experience runs smoothly with no unnecessary surprises.” 

✭・.・✫

Satisfied with your answers, you click 'submit' and close your laptop, feeling a wave of satisfaction as you settle into your seat—center of the second row—as you wait for the 9AM lecture to start.  

It's 8:30AM.  

You're the only one in the room.  

Yeah, you're a little early. So what? One can never be too prepared. You've waited for this course forever, and you're determined to not only ace it (like you do with every class) but to dominate. So yes, coming early is characteristic of you, as you want to ensure you get the best seat in the classroom: center of the second row—center to get the best view of the professor's podium, and second row to be close enough to show you're engaged, but not close enough that it screams, Look at me, I'm a tryhard!  

It's clear you've come prepared. Plus, this class isn't just any ordinary elective—it's the elective to take. Only the top students majoring in psychology get in, available only through direct invite by the professor. If you were invited to PSY1009, it meant you were the crème de la crème of psychology students. The best of the best. The elite. The— 

Your train of thought is derailed when an all-too-familiar figure strolls into the room with that signature smirk. Backpack slung lazily over one (1) shoulder (as if two straps are too much effort), hair clearly still bedhead status, wearing whatever clothes he fished off The Chair (you know, the one—where all questionable, semi-clean laundry lives). 

He strolls past you—of course—and plops down right in front of you.

Front row.  

Try-hard. 

"Y/N, fancy seeing you here," Jay Park spins around, a knowing look plastered on his face, eyes gleaming. "I missed seeing that frown of yours all summer." 

"What are you doing here, Jay?" You roll your eyes and scoff at his comment. "Don't tell me you got into this class. It's for serious students."  

Jay's grin only widens to your despair. "Contrary to your deeply misinformed opinion, Professor Kim actually loves me. I'm a great student."  

“I don’t believe it,” you deadpan back. “You never turn your assignments in on time, and quite frankly, I'm surprised you were even able to find this classroom."  

Jay shrugs, unfazed. "What can I say? Professor Kim doesn't just look at deadlines, she looks at talent. Guess that says a lot about me, huh?"  

You mumble something under your breath about ‘talent for procrastination’ but before he can fire back, Professor Kim walks into the room, cuing the silence of all the students who've filled up the class.  

"Good morning, class! I'm so happy to see so many familiar faces."  

Jay turns his head back towards the front of the room, as you instantly straighten up, flashing your favorite professor a smile. This is officially the fifth course you've taken with Professor Kim. It's no secret you’re one of her biggest fans—the countless early mornings you've spent waiting at your computer, finger hovering over the ‘enroll’ button the second registration opens so you can be one of the first students to sign up for her classes have proven that. Challenging but rewarding, her classes are always worth the effort.

And yet, for reasons beyond your comprehension, Jay Park—Jay Freaking Park—somehow always ends up in the same classes. Every. Single. Time. It’s like a curse.  

A loud, messy, procrastinating curse…

…that just so happens to have a side profile almost as annoyingly good that it only pisses you off more. 

You wonder if he’s actually here to learn or if he’s just here to spite you. Because, honestly, the amount of classes you’ve shared with him is no longer a coincidence. Five semesters in a row? Suspicious. 

But realistically, and unfortunately, Jay does study the same major as you, which means those last five semesters? Oh, those were five long semesters of endless debates on discussion boards, in-class duels over psychological theories, and the infamous showdown for the TA position in Professor Kim's Intro to Psychology course. And the worst part? Neither of you got the job because Professor Kim—in a diplomatic twist that made zero sense to you—deemed you both 'equally qualified.' So, the job went to the third best candidate instead. Tough luck.  

You open up your laptop again, opening a perfectly organized Google Doc, ready to take notes on whatever pearls of wisdom Professor Kim is currently bestowing about your upcoming project—which, in hindsight, you should really be paying attention to. You should be. But something so ridiculous, so blood-boiling, pulls your attention elsewhere.  

Jay's desk is completely...empty. 

No laptop. No notebook. Not even a measly little pencil. Did he bring an empty backpack? Or did he just walk in here like he's casually waiting for someone to present him his grade on a silver platter? He's just sitting there like this is a casual hangout—probably expecting his robot baby to parent itself while he simply supervises.  

Before your self-induced inner monologue spirals into complete rage, you suddenly hear your professor's voice cut through the class, breaking you out of your mental rant.  

"Y/N and Jay." 

Wait. What?

Your head snaps up so fast it's a miracle it didn't pop off your neck and roll away.

You blink. You must have misheard.

"Y/N and Jay," Professor Kim repeats as if she could read your confused expression, voice too nonchalant for the life-wrecking news she's about to deliver: "You two are partners."  

The words hit you like a bus. No, not even. The words hit you like a bus driven by a T-Rex that flips over, crashes into a building, and explodes into a million ashy pieces. And there you are—standing right in the middle of the wreckage, somehow (and unfortunately) still alive to suffer through every second of it—while Jay, smug as ever, whips around in his seat to face you.  

And of course, there it is: that look of his that screams 'This is going to be so much fun for me, and so much pain for you.' 

"Guess we're parents now, Y/N!" Jay chimes, his voice dripping with so much sarcastic enthusiasm you swear he just got handed an Oscar for Most Annoying Human. If that tone were a substance, you'd bottle it up and use it as insect repellent. On him. Repeatedly.  

You blink at him, you're sure—you're praying—this has to be some elaborate prank. Maybe Jay bribed Professor Kim with his rare attempt at turning in an assignment on time just to mess with you. Or maybe the universe just hates you and this is your karma for stealing your roommate's last ramen packet that one time a year ago.  

But no, Professor Kim keeps rattling off other pairs like it's business as usual, as if your entire academic career and sanity isn't currently being flushed down a metaphorical toilet, while you sit there, paralyzed, your brain rapidly melting into a useless puddle from the sheer thought of being paired with him.  

"What's wrong, Y/N?" Jay teases as he leans over the back of his chair towards you, puppy dog eyes on display. "You don't want to play house with me?"  

You narrow your eyes at him, mentally wielding your imaginary bug spray like it's a holy weapon. 

"I don’t," you reply flatly. "In fact, I’d rather perform open-heart surgery on myself with a plastic spoon than co-parent with you." 

Jay’s eyes light up as his hand goes to his heart. "Aw, you really know how to make a guy feel special. This is why I like our little relationship, you know?" 

"Relationship?" You scoff loud enough to make the people sitting three rows behind you to glance in your direction.

You bring your voice down to a whisper, leaning towards him. "The only thing we have in common is a shared oxygen supply." 

"See, that’s the spirit," he says, turning back to face the front like he didn't just ruin your life.

And somehow, that pisses you off even more. Is it his voice? His stupidly perfect hair? The fact that he has the audacity to breathe in your general direction? At this point, he could literally sneeze, and it would still feel like a personal attack.

Is it too late to switch majors? Or schools? Maybe even countries? Surely, restarting your entire college career as a super senior would be better than spending the next six weeks parenting with Jay. Jay Park, who has probably never held anything more fragile than a Red Solo Cup.  

Jay Park, who is just sitting there, all calm and collected, clearly loving every second of your misery.  

While you're frozen in pure, unadulterated horror.  

Your grade? Plummeting as we speak.  Your robot baby? Probably going to need therapy by day two. And you?  

You're screwed.

Q1 – The Art & Science of Parenting 101 aims to apply different psychological approaches to parenting. What are your current theories and methods that you believe are important to parenting? 

Jay’s Submission [10:09AM, September 18th]: 

"I think babies need more freedom to explore and make their own choices, even if that just means grabbing random things. Bowlby's attachment theory leans towards a secure attachment, but I don't think that means hovering over them 24/7. It's about being there when they really need you, not scheduling every second of the day. I also believe letting babies learn through their own experiences is key. Strict behaviorism, such as Skinner's, sounds exhausting and I don't think a rigid system is what makes a good parent. Babies are messy, and that's okay." 

Q2 – What do you expect to learn and gain from this experience? 

Jay's Submission [10:12AM, September 18th]:  

"I'm hoping to learn how to be a responsive, yet flexible parent without overcomplicating it. The goal is to find balance between being hands-on without hovering. And, I think this whole robot baby thing will teach me how to handle unpredictable situations—because no matter how much you plan, life is going to surprise you. And also, being able to say I know how to change a diaper under 30 seconds sounds pretty cool :)" 

✭・.・✫

Jay's screwed.  

Like, completely, utterly, hopelessly screwed. 

He was already kinda skeptical he’d make it past his 40s if he kept living the way he does, but now? Now, he’s not even sure he’ll survive the next 24 hours. Why? Well, today’s the first official meeting with you—as co-parents—at the campus coffee shop at 12PM sharp. 

It's 12:17PM.  

He's late.  

Seventeen whole minutes late. To your meeting. And you're basically the human embodiment of an atomic clock. You’re probably sitting there, checking your watch every few seconds, calculating his absence down to the millisecond. Jay can practically feel the murderous vibes you’re radiating from halfway across campus.  

And while Jay sometimes finds your need for punctuality weirdly endearing (but don't tell anyone that), he also values not getting scolded on a Saturday morning (12PM is still morning to him, don't judge), especially when he could be sleeping in.   

As the café comes into view, Jay considers just throwing the towel in. Maybe he could fake a sudden illness, or better yet, skip town and maybe fake his own death or something. 

There's no point. Knowing you, you'd probably hunt him down for sport.  

With a sigh, Jay pushes open the door to the café, bracing himself for impact.  

And there you are. Exactly how he imagined.  

Seated at a small table by the window, papers perfectly aligned, laptop open, and two different colored highlighters placed meticulously side by side. Your foot taps in perfect sync with the café's background music, your eyebrows knitted together in focus, and your teeth chewing your bottom lip as if you're about to crack the Krabby Patty secret formula. The window next to you allows the afternoon sunlight to spill through and reflect off of you, making you look...dare he say it...almost pretty.

If Jay wasn't fearing for his life, he might have actually stopped to admire the view. Might have.  

When Jay finally reaches your table—17 minutes and 46 seconds late (but who's counting)—you look up, meeting his gaze with a look that's somewhere between not surprised but definitely not impressed. 

"Well, well," you say, quirking your mouth up ever so slightly that Jay thinks he might see you smile for the first time in, like, ever. "Look who finally decided to join us! Must be nice living on Jay Standard Time."  

Jay flashes his usual, unbothered smile as he pulls out the chair across from you.

"Oh, c'mon, Y/N. Seventeen minutes is nothing in the grand scheme of life."  

"Yeah? Tell that to our future robot baby when you're seventeen minutes late to feed it and its batteries die."  

"Yikes. That got dark quick," Jay's mutters, grin wavering. "But hey, glad to see you're finally accepting the fact that it's our future baby!"  

"Future robot baby," you peer your eyes at him from above your laptop. "Anyways, did you read the guidelines?"  

Jay rubs the back of his neck as he leans back into his chair. "Uh, define 'read'."  

Without missing a beat, you slap a packet of papers down on the table.

"Here's the breakdown. Feeding schedules, emotional development tracker, diaper changes, mood swings—the whole shebang. We're going to have to approach this strategically."  

"Woah, okay," Jay's eyebrows shoot up, his brain trying to catch up with the words you just spewed at him. "First, how the heck is a robot going to develop emotionally—that's a little scary if you ask me. Like, dystopian, Black Mirror, scary. And second, since when is parenting just following a spreadsheet? Isn't part of it, you know, winging it?"  

At the words 'winging it', your eye twitches so violently, Jay half-expects you to reach across the table and strangle him with his own hoodie strings. 

"Winging it?" You shut your laptop and lean forward. "Winging it is exactly how we end up with a malfunctioning robot baby that starts a fire and fails us. Parenting is all about structure, consistency—"  

"—and having a little fun," Jay cuts in, mouth quirked with mischief. "I mean, what's parenting without some chaos?"  

"Chaos," you mutter, narrowing your eyes at him, "is what you bring into my life on a daily basis."  

"Yeah, and yet you secretly love it," Jay shoots back, leaning in to meet you, as if daring you to disagree.  

You stare at him, unblinking. It's either you're plotting his slow and painful demise or seriously considering what he just said. No in-between.  

And yet, somehow, Jay almost finds it endearing how you can look like the world's most innocent golden retriever while also simultaneously sending him six feet under with just one agonizing glare. Almost.  

Finally, you sigh, "This isn't a joke, Jay. This is 40% of our grade."  

"And I'm 100% ready!" Jay shoots back with a wink, to which you respond with a full-body eye roll.  

"Oh yeah? Alright, Mr. Ready-for-Anything, what's your brilliant plan?"

"Hmm," Jay leans back in his seat, folding his arms behind his head as if he's got it all figured out (he doesn't). "Well, for one, I was thinking maybe...shifts. We split responsibilities based on our schedules. I'll take the baby on certain hours, you take it other hours, and we'll spend our free days together. And if we're not together and there's a baby crisis, we stay on call." 

In complete honesty, that came from out of nowhere. Jay didn't even know any ideas were subconsciously cooking up within him until the words tumbled out of his mouth before he realized it. But there's no way he was going to tell you that, not when you don't immediately tear his idea to shreds. In fact, you actually look...impressed? 

Or so he thinks. Jay definitely needs to get better at this whole 'reading your expressions' thing.  

"Huh," you murmur to yourself, fingers tapping against the table. "That's...not the worst idea you've ever had."  

Jay feels elated. Validation? From you? Phew, this means his life is spared. Thank god.  

Jay flashes you a satisfied smile and while you don't return it, he hopes you're secretly softening. Just a little. Behind that straight face, you're probably low-key impressed, but no way are you letting him see that.  

"Don't get too excited," you say, as if you've got some sixth sense for whenever Jay throws a mental victory parade. "This is only day one. Of, like, 42. We've got a long way to go."  

"Okay, okay," Jay raises his hands in surrender, though there's no hiding the smirk on his face as he still mentally takes the win. "Message received. Let's just figure out our schedules?"  

You nod, pushing your laptop aside to make space for a sheet of paper you've already prepared—because of course you're prepared. It's like you're about to whip up some elaborate high-stakes legal contract that probably involves blood signatures.

"Okay," you say, clicking your pen, picking a bright blue that basically stabs Jay's eyes by simply existing, but whatever makes you happy, I guess.

You write 'Jay's Schedule' at the top, neatly highlighting it with a pink highlighter that somehow hurts even more. Jay wonders if this is a secret ploy to blind him into submission. He wouldn't put it past you.  

"What's your typical weekly schedule like?"  

Jay squints, clearly thinking hard, as he tries to remember what a 'typical' week looks like for him. Mostly it's a mix of spontaneous decisions, power naps, and gym sessions sprinkled between classes.  

"Uh...well," Jay rubs the back of his neck. "I usually sleep in until like 11...sometimes noon, depends on the vibe, you know? Classes after that, gym a couple times a week, maybe? And, um, naps are non-negotiable. Make sure you pencil those in too."  

Your pen freezes mid-air, hovering like you're considering whether to throw it at his face or not.  

"Naps? Non-negotiable? For someone who wakes up at 11AM? We're raising a child, Jay, this requires commitment!"  

Jay raises a calm eyebrow. "Hey, sleep is very important for brain function! You wouldn't want me underperforming as a parent, right?"  

Your eye twitches. "No, Jay. That's already my biggest fear."  

But instead of escalating the snark, you bite your lip, clearly restraining yourself from unleashing a full lecture on time management. Jay struggles to stifle his own laugh at your reaction. If looks could kill, you'd have him buried under six feet of color-coded charts and to-do lists by now.  

Finally, you sigh, accepting your fate and jotting down ‘Jay’s naps: apparently crucial for survival’ in your notes with a frown drawn next to it, while Jay gives you an approving nod from across the table. 

"Alright, my turn," you flip the page over with dramatic flair, carefully writing 'Y/N's Schedule' in the same stab-your-eyes-blue and pink highlight combo as Jay mentally braces himself for what's to come.  

"So," you continue, starting with that no-nonsense tone that's clearly meant to be serious—but to Jay, there's something almost charming about how strict you are. "I wake up at 6."  

Jay's brain immediately short-circuits. Forget charming.

You’re downright crazy. 

"6? As in AM? On purpose?"  

You blink back at him, as if he's the one saying something ridiculous.

"Yes, Jay. On purpose."  

His mind reels, purely amazed, yet utterly horrified at the thought. 6AM? Who does that? He's seen 6AM before, sure, but only when he's stayed up all night, probably cramming for an exam. His mornings start at 10AM at best, and that's very, very rarely. There are birds chirping at 6AM. Who wants to live in a world where birds chirp you awake?  

When he doesn't respond—still in pure shock—you keep going, undeterred by his obvious existential crisis.

"I usually have class at 8AM until 1PM, then I try to pick up a shift here," you gesture around the very café you two are in, "and then—"  

"Wait, wait," Jay holds up a hand, needing a mental pause button. "You work here?"  

"Yeah," you nod, like it's the most casual thing ever. "Why, is that surprising?"  

Jay squints at you. He's never considered the idea of you pulling espresso shots and dealing with caffeine-deprived college students—he's always pegged you more as a 'quiet math tutor for third-graders' type. Or maybe someone who sells cute stationery at the campus bookstore, organizing pens in rainbow order or something. But now that he's picturing it, yeah, it kind of makes sense. Maybe that's why you're so uptight all the time—too much exposure to coffee fumes. Or, more likely (and evidently), you're just an insanely busy person.  

He likes the coffee fumes theory better.  

"I guess not," he admits, then surprises even himself by adding, "that's kind of impressive, though."  

He gives you a genuine smile, and you blink back, as if searching for the hidden jab that's usually lurking beneath his words. But it's not there this time...oddly. Slowly, your expression softens, and you give him the tiniest of smiles.

"Thanks? It's alright, I guess."  

It's nothing big—no, not at all—but Jay feels a weird sense of accomplishment at your reaction. Better than nothing. 

He leans in over the table, all faux-innocence—eyebrows raises, large puppy eyes and all.

"Does this mean you can get me a free coffee?"  

You lean in too, mirroring him, and he's not sure why his heart skips a beat at the close proximity. 

"Yeah...no. Nice try."  

Jay groans, throwing himself back in his chair dramatically. Worth a shot.  

"Anyway," you continue, totally unfazed, "I usually work here until 5, then Mondays I have a study group for Econ 301, and club meetings scattered throughout the week."  

Jay's head spins for maybe the nth time since he's sat down. Honestly, you lost him way back at 'class until 1PM.' Your schedule is like some kind of twisted Sudoku puzzle, except much more intimidating.  

"So...you're, like, busy...all the time?" he asks, the words tumbling out of his mouth as his brain tries to process how anyone can function like this.  

You give him a look that almost convinces Jay himself that he's the crazy one here.

"Yes, Jay. I am."  

"Wow, okay. So why did you even take this class? What happened to being committed? You don't even have time to breathe."  

You narrow your eyes, and he swears you're about to launch into some motivational TedTalk.

"It's called efficiency, Jay. Also, I like to challenge myself. That's what parenthood is about, after all."

Jay stares at you like you've just self-declared yourself a cyborg.

"Oookayyy," he drawls, dragging out the word because, honestly, he's 99% sure you've completely lost it. The remaining 1%?  

It's slightly impressed by your sheer, terrifying level of commitment. He's over here winging life, including this conversation, while you've practically mapped out the rest of your entire existence. 

"Do you even, like, sleep? Or is that optional for you?"  

"Sleep is for the weak," you shoot him an amused glance, half-joking, half-serious.

Jay raises an eyebrow. "Good to know I'm weak, then."  

You stifle a laugh, but Jay catches the brief twitch of your lips before you quickly compose yourself. He’s known you for so long, and yet, this might be the first time he’s seen even a hint of your guard slipping. It’s subtle, barely there, but he notices. And for some reason, it makes him smile. You’re always so put together, so serious—but this small crack in your armor? Jay can’t help but appreciate it.  

Maybe, just maybe, he could get you to soften up more if he tried hard enough.

And yeah, he’s definitely going to try. 

But before he can try to tease you more, you snap back into business mode, instantly scribbling down more notes.

"Alright, so let’s just split the baby's care based on my work schedule and your...nap schedule, apparently."  

Jay leans back in his chair, catching that flicker of amusement in your voice—despite the serious look on your face—and he fights the urge to push a little more. There's something about that side of you—not the one behind the cold wall you've built of color-coded schedules and deadlines—that he wants to see more of. Somehow.  

"Works for me,” he shrugs and grins at you, “but if the baby's anything like me, it'll nap a lot. You might have it easy."

"And if it’s anything like me,” you mutter, barely pausing, “then it’ll easily get annoyed by you.”

Jay catches the ghost of a smile on your face, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it—which he definitely is. It’s enough to keep him intrigued. He leans forward, resting his chin in his hand like he’s watching some fascinating show. 

You don’t notice him staring—or maybe you do, but you’re too busy pretending you don’t. Either way, there’s a small, almost imperceptible shift in your body language that Jay senses. Your shoulders aren’t as tense, and you don’t look like you’re mentally calculating how many minutes you have left before you can escape this meeting.

Jay decides to take advantage of the moment. “So…do you think our robot baby is also going to be a superhuman genius? Like in a you way?” 

You finally let out a laugh, to his surprise, and he feels so satisfied he has to bite his lip to hold back a smile. “Definitely, but also part crazy. Like in a you way.” 

Jay chuckles, mentally declaring this conversation a victory. Your laugh fades but for a split second, he catches you studying his face like you’re trying to figure out what his deal is. And he doesn’t mind it at all—because, for once, you’re not giving him the usual death glare that sometimes seems permanently reserved for him.

Then, just as he starts to settle into this very rare, almost… pleasant vibe between you two, you suddenly snap back to reality, capping your pen and standing up. 

Jay frowns as he watches as you turn towards the coffee bar, not ready for this conversation to end just yet.  

"Wait, where are you going?" he blurts out, sounding more tragic than intended. 

You pause, turning back with a look that sends his pulse tripping.

"Do you want a free coffee or not?"  

The following Monday, at exactly 9:55AM, you and Jay are handed your robot baby—Jisoo, as Jay somehow convinces you to name it after his favorite celebrity—at the end of your class.  

You didn't even try to put up a fight. The moment Jay's eyes lit up at the idea, you knew you'd already lost. After three whole minutes of bickering and one PowerPoint titled 'Why Our Baby Deserves to be Named After Star Quality,' you realized there was no saving it. He had arguments. He had fan chants memorized. For a robot baby. Your robot baby. 

"Admit it, Jisoo has star quality," Jay beams, proudly looking down at the robotic baby in the baby carrier that came with her.  

You look from Jisoo to Jay, then back to Jisoo, unimpressed. "It's a robot, Jay. Not your bias."  

"Bias or not, she deserves only the best," Jay just shrugs, unbothered.

He glances down at the robot, which blinks its eyes open and closed with a soft whirring noise, its chubby plastic arms flopping lifelessly by its sides.  

There's a beat of silence as you both stare down at it, unsure of what to do next.  

"It's kind of creepy, right?" you finally mutter, breaking the knowing silence between you two.  

Jay snorts. "Not even 'kind of.' A lot."

He leans in to inspect it, his brows furrowed, "So, does it just…sit there?”  

"No, it's on schedule. It says here it won't eat for another three hours and it has a clean diaper, so everything should be fine. Babies are predictable once you understand their needs, Jay," you huff, already pulling out the meticulously detailed notes you took during class.

Jay lifts an eyebrow as he turns to face you, "Right...because in real life, babies are totally like robots and are totally predictable. Got it."  

You open your mouth to respond, probably with something unnecessarily snarky (you don't know what yet though, you haven't gotten to that part yet), when a loud, high-pitched wail shatters the air, cutting through the now-empty classroom you two are in. The robot baby's face contorts into an exaggerated crying expression, its mechanical arms flailing (which you didn't even know was possible) like it's preparing for takeoff. 

"What the—" Jay instinctively jumps back like Jisoo is a grenade on her last few seconds.

"Why's it doing that? What did you do?"  

"I didn’t do anything!" You snap, panic slowly rising as you flip through your notes quickly. "It's not supposed to be crying! It shouldn't be hungry, and it's definitely not tired yet!"  

The wailing intensifies, vibrating through the room as the cries echo louder and louder, Jisoo clearly not caring about your carefully crafted timeline. You glance down at your schedule. Why is it crying?  

You groan and snatch Jisoo out of the carrier, awkwardly holding her in a way that's probably not safe for any life form, real or otherwise. The wailing doesn't stop. In fact, it gets louder, as if Jisoo's personally offended by your existence.  

"Hold her!" You quickly thrust her into Jay's arms, a horrified expression written all over his face. "You deal with it."  

"Deal with what? It's a robot!" Jay stares at the baby in his arms like it's going to explode. "Oh god, are we even sure this is safe?"  

"Yes, Jay! It's a baby!"

You're sure you're borderline going insane from the combination of the screeching baby and Jay's apparent lack of brain cells.  

Jay's eyes widen as Jisoo practically vibrates with the force of its cries. He tries to mimic the way you were holding her, cradling her against his chest like she's made of glass. It doesn't help. Jisoo keeps wailing, and now Jay looks genuinely distressed. 

"Uh, shh, little buddy, it's okay...Should I, like, burp it? Sing to it?"  

“Sing?” You give him a look like he’s completely lost it, but Jay’s already humming off-key under his breath. 

The baby, predictably, continues screeching. 

You both just stand there, staring at the baby, then at each other, the panic palpable in the room. Jay continues bouncing it lightly, as if this will magically solve everything.

“Does it have an off switch?” he asks, glancing at you like you've parented a robot baby before. 

You continue to frantically flip through your notes, pages rustling in a blur. “No, Jay! We can’t just turn off our baby!” 

“Well, I don’t know, Y/N, but I’m pretty sure babies aren’t supposed to sound like they’re summoning a demon!” Jay retorts, his tone climbing the ladder of panic. "Maybe she's hungry or something."  

“It can’t be hungry, it's not supposed to be!" You’re still too busy scanning your notes as you shake your head in disagreement.

Jay just shakes his head, gently cradling the baby even though he's sure it's about to lift off into space from how much it was shaking right now. 

“Sometimes you can’t schedule everything, Y/N. Maybe it just needs a bottle, like, right now.” 

The idea frustrates you. “But it’s not time yet. If we feed it off-schedule, it’ll mess everything up for the day.” 

The baby’s cries reach a shrill pitch, like it’s protesting your protest. Jay looks at you, then back at the crying baby, then back at you again. 

“I think it’s already messed up, so maybe we just... feed it?” he says, half-grinning, half-exasperated. 

You hesitate. It feels wrong. Babies are supposed to follow patterns, stick to a routine...or so you thought. You let out a frustrated sigh, your brain bleeding from the sheer sound of the glass-breaking screams.  

“Fine,” you mutter, grabbing the bottle from the supply bag. “But if this throws off the whole schedule, it’s your fault.” 

Jay grins, but there’s something softer in his expression behind it as he watches you struggle with the bottle...and your need for control.

“Deal.” 

You hand the bottle to him, and he places the nipple into the baby’s mouth. The wailing stops almost instantly. The sudden silence is deafening, and both of you are stunned for a moment, looking down at the baby who’s now peacefully drinking. 

You let out a small gasp of relief and turn your head up to look at Jay, who's widened eyes meet yours.  

Jay lets out a held breath. “Well. That was traumatic.” 

You roll your eyes, though there’s a slight twitch at the corner of your lips as you mutter, “I think I just lost three years of my life."  

Jay watches as you carefully take Jisoo from his arms and place her back into the carrier, making sure everything is in order. He’s still catching his breath, but he glances at you—relaxed, for once, after the panic—and it makes him feel something weird. He almost laughs. 

“I dunno,” he says, a little teasingly. “I think we handled that pretty well.” 

“Great, now just five weeks and six days of this left." You give him a look, but there’s a tiny, fleeting smile this time. "I just don't understand why it was crying. It's not supposed to need food until—"  

Jay cuts you off with a chuckle. “Y/N, it’s a baby. Real ones don’t run on algorithms. They just... cry when they need something. Like this little gal. I mean, you can't exactly schedule crying, right?” 

The silence stretches for a moment as you watch him, realization dawning a little slower than you’d like to admit. “I guess,” you mutter reluctantly, earning yourself a content-looking Jay.  

"Look at us—team effort," Jay says, as he beams a smile to you before glancing at Jisoo. "We're naturals at this whole parenting thing."  

"Yeah, okay," you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face says differently as you reach out to unnecessarily fuss with the small blanket in Jisoo's carrier.  

Jay's eyes light up at your response.

"A smile? The Y/N gave me a smile? Admit it, we make a great team, huh?"  

You scoff, but the look on your face proves there's no bite to it—Jay knows there's no bite to it.  

Maybe, just maybe, he has a point.  

You'd never admit it to him, though. 

Not yet.  

To your pleasant surprise, the past two weeks have been...weirdly smooth. Like, suspiciously smooth. You and Jay have somehow managed to fall into an actual routine—dropping off and picking up Jisoo like two semi-functional adults who almost know what they’re doing. You still wouldn’t call it 'seamless', as Jay himself struggled with having a consistent schedule for once in his life, but at least you’ve gotten through the weeks without major incidents or spontaneous combustion. So far.

That doesn't mean you'll admit to anyone—least of all yourself—that you and Jay might actually make a decent team. His parenting methods are still objectively abysmal...to you, at least. I mean, just the other day, he almost put Jisoo's diaper on upside down. Upside down. You didn't even know that was possible, but leave it to Jay to surprise you more and more.  

Despite his questionable approach to baby care, Jisoo's still alive (you think), and somehow you've managed not to explode at him yet (key word: yet). So, that's...something, I guess.  

Today, though. Today is a different beast entirely.  

It's Sunday, and miraculously, you've managed to give yourself the evening off. No café shift, no emergency club meetings. The stars have aligned, and for once, you have free time. And what did you decide to do with this rare gift from the universe?  

Spend it with Jay. Parenting. Together. In his apartment.  

You blame Professor Kim for this cruel twist of fate. Something about submitting photographic evidence of co-parenting. After all, this is a partner project.  

Teamwork, she called it.  

You like to call it pure suffering.  

Which brings you here, standing outside Jay's apartment with a tote bag of baby supplies on one shoulder, Jisoo's carrier on the other, and a silent prayer on your lips. If this apartment is even half the disaster you're imagining—frat house, landfill, or some unholy combination of both—you're fully prepared to turn around and run for the hills.  

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever horrors await behind the door, and knock three times.  

Precisely five seconds later, the door swings open, and...yep, there's Jay. His hair is a mess, his clothes are rumpled, and you can't tell if he's been a) napping, b) playing video games, or c) all of the above.  

"Hey," he greets you with a lazy grin, eyes half-lidded like he's still half-asleep.  

It's 6PM.  

You stare at him, deadpan.

"You look like you've been hit by a truck."  

Jay snorts as he raises an eyebrow.

"You should see the truck."  

Before you can fire back with something equally sarcastic, you catch a glimpse of his apartment over his shoulder, and—you blink, confused. Wait. Wait.  

Well this can't be right.  

You were expecting a disaster. Maybe a few pizza boxes, a stray sock on the floor, some suspicious stains on the couch. But no.

Instead...it's clean. Like, really clean.  

The floors are spotless, there's a shelf with neatly stacked books, and are those...framed photos on the walls? Like, actual art? Your own apartment doesn't even have actual art, just print outs from Walgreens of photos you thought were cute on Pinterest and your Justin Bieber posters you got from a magazine back in high-school. Now you're starting to feel ashamed.  

You do a double-take, your brain struggling to process what's happening, as Jay still stands in front of you, confused at your gawking.

"Y/N? You good?"  

You snap your mouth shut, as you spot a vacuum neatly tucked in the corner of the living room.

"I...I'm just surprised you even know what a vacuum is." 

"You'll learn I'm full of surprises, Miss Y/N," he says, casually leaning against the doorframe as he looks down at you, his gaze making you shift in your stance in front of him. "Come on in."  

You step inside cautiously, like you're waiting for something to jump out at you—maybe a camera with someone saying 'You've been pranked, this isn't Jay's actual apartment!'  

But nope. His apartment is just...nice. It smells like eucalyptus and citrus, for crying out loud.  

You set Jisoo's carrier down on the couch, the robot itself still fast asleep, as your eyes scan the room, still half-expecting to find a hidden mess somewhere. But instead, something else catches your attention.  

On the wall, next to his kitchen, there's a collection of professional-looking photographs, all framed neatly. This is what caught your eye earlier from the doorway. You find yourself slowly walking closer to get a closer look: landscapes, city stresses, a few candid shots of people—all in the same style, same camera quality, same angles. You tilt your head, intrigued.

Jay comes up behind you to see what you're looking at and you turn to him, "Are these...yours?" 

"Oh," he scratches the back of his neck, looking almost shy. "Yeah. I do some photography sometimes. Just a hobby."  

You blink up at him. Jay Park? A photographer? This was not on your Jay Park Bingo card. 

"Huh," you say, before realizing how dumb you sound. "I didn't know you were into that."  

"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me, Y/N. Full of surprises, remember?" Jay replies, his head tilting to match yours with a cocky smile, which—ugh, okay fine—makes you feel just the tiniest bit flustered. Not that you'll admit it.  

"Oh, really?" You raise an eyebrow. "And here I thought your only hobbies were napping and showing up late." 

"That's just the surface level," he says with a wink, walking over to his coffee table and grabbing his laptop. "I was actually editing photos before you showed up." 

Intrigued, you follow him to the couch and sit beside him as he flips open the laptop. You squint at the editing software on the screen—full of layers, sliders, and all sorts of professional-looking tools that immediately make your head hurt. Jay scrolls through the images, and honestly?

They’re good. Really good. Like, if you didn’t know better, you’d think some of them could be in a magazine. And not the kind of magazine you got your Bieber Fever posters in.  

"Wow," you say, nodding, genuinely impressed. "That’s… actually really cool." 

Jay freezes, his head snapping toward you with a look of disbelief. He stares at you, eyes narrowing like you’ve just broken some unspoken rule.

"It's been ten seconds...you just gave me an actual compliment without a sarcastic follow-up."  

You let out a small giggle, "Geez, you always make me sound like some soulless witch or something."  

"I mean… soulless witch might be a bit much. But, like… emotionally unavailable overlord? Hmm, maybe," Jay grins, leaning back in mock thought.

You burst out laughing before you can stop yourself, the sound catching Jay off guard. He looks at you, wide-eyed, like he’s just witnessed a rare phenomenon. And maybe he has—because even you can’t remember the last time you laughed this freely.

"Wow. I should annoy you more often," Jay smirks, clearly way too satisfied with himself. You’re not entirely sure if he meant it to sound that smooth, but your brain certainly processed it that way. Heat rises to your cheeks before you can stop it, and you quickly clear your throat, a small, flustered smile playing at your lips. 

You try to gather yourself, praying your voice doesn’t betray you.

"Don’t push your luck, Park," you manage, but the teasing edge in your voice is softer than usual—way softer. And, of course, Jay knows it. You know it. You’re still smiling, and—unfortunately for you—so is he. 

Jay suddenly clears his throat as he shifts in his seat, "So...should we order like a pizza or something? Are you hungry?"  

And because lately the universe apparently has a personal vendetta against you, your stomach chooses that exact moment to let out a sound—one that resembles between a whale’s mating call and a frog being strangled. 

Jay stifles a laugh, trying to act casual but failing miserably, "Okay… pizza it is." 

“Shut up,” you mutter, giving him a playful shove that’s just enough to make him fall back into the couch cushions. 

"No, you tell your stomach to shut up," Jay snickers, grabbing his phone to place the order. 

You’re about to fire back with something—anything—but a soft wail interrupts you from the baby carrier. 

"Someone needs attention," you say, scooping Jisoo up and cradling her in your arms. “It’s about time for her to eat anyway.” 

As you juggle Jisoo with one hand and dig through the baby bag for her fake bottle of milk with the other, Jay watches you from his spot on the couch, a curious look in his eyes.

“While you feed her, I’ll take care of the pizza. I’m guessing you’re more of a plain cheese type, huh?” 

You freeze for a second, then whip your head around to give him a mock-offended look.

“First, you think I’m a soulless witch, and now boring? I at least add pepperoni and sausage. Give me some credit.” 

"Okay, okay, noted," Jay lifts his hands up in surrender, "So adventurous. I'll remember that next time you call me irresponsible."  

You roll your eyes at him as you adjust Jisoo in your arms, holding the bottle steady at her mouth. It’s quiet for a few moments, the only sounds being the soft hum of your fake baby and Jay tapping on his phone. 

Suddenly Jay puts his phone down, turning to you with an unreadable expression. “You’re really serious about this whole parenting thing, huh?” 

You blink, still rocking Jisoo in your arms.  You're thrown off by the sudden shift and sincerity in his tone.  

“Well… yeah. I think it’s important, you know? Responsibility, structure… that’s what makes people feel safe. Especially kids. They need to know they’re taken care of.” 

Jay’s expression shifts as he listens, a more thoughtful look settling on his face.

“You're a strong believer of that, aren't you? Structure and schedules and all that?"  

His voice is a lot quieter now, lower, and you realize you've never really had a serious conversation (that wasn't a class debate) with him before—at least not long enough to hear this version of Jay. The serious Jay. And if you're being honest, it's making you a bit flustered. You hesitate, hoping your voice doesn't crack or something equally embarrassing.  

“I mean… I guess so. I was raised that way. My parents always had everything planned out. It was like...nothing ever went wrong because there was always a system, a backup plan.” 

Jay raises an eyebrow, leaning forward a little in his seat.

“But didn’t that feel, I don’t know... suffocating? Like, what if things don’t go according to plan? You can’t control everything.” 

Your first instinct is to scoff, but something stops you. It's a valid question, and for some reason, you don’t feel the need to throw up your usual defenses for once. That's new.  

“Maybe sometimes,” you admit. “But I don’t know any other way. It just feels like if you’re not prepared, things fall apart. And that’s the worst feeling—like watching everything crumble because you weren’t ready for it.” 

Jay is quiet, studying you with an intensity that feels new. His teasing smirk is gone, replaced with something more serious.

“Yeah, I get that. I didn’t have a lot of structure growing up. Parents were kinda… there, but not really. I think that’s why I don’t plan much. Life happens whether you’re ready or not.” 

You blink as you sit back in your seat, absorbing his words. It’s the first time you’ve really thought about Jay outside of his 'laid-back' image of him you've had in your head, and honestly, you’re surprised by how heavy his words feel. 

“But…you’re actually good with Jisoo,” you say, almost cautiously, unsure if you’re diving into uncharted territory. “You’ve been handling this project better than I thought you would.” 

Jay laughs softly, shaking his head as he looks at Jisoo in your arms.

“It’s just a robot baby, Y/N. No big deal if I mess up.” 

"It’s not just about the robot baby,” you counter, realizing you're saying more than you intended. “You actually care. You’re not graded on how well you change diapers or keep her entertained, but you’re still putting in effort. You’re trying. And that matters.” 

There's a beat of silence as you see Jay pause. For once, he doesn't have a comeback. Instead, he's just looking at you—really looking at you—like he's trying to figure something out, and you feel the heat slowly creeping back onto your face. You're sure you're turning an unflattering shade of red under his gaze on you, and part of you, no, all of you, is begging for him to say something immediately before you combust.  

Then, with a suddenness that almost makes you jump, he leans over and nudges your arm lightly.

“Okay, Dr. Phil. Don't go getting all soft on me now."  

You let out a playful scoff to mask your relief, thankful for the release of tension in the air. But something about the conversation lingers in the air, hanging like a question neither of you is ready to ask. And despite the teasing, your mind can’t help but circle back to how Jay had looked at you—serious, curious… something else. 

Before you can dwell on it too long, the doorbell rings. Saved by the pizza gods. Jay springs up from the couch to answer the door, and you gently place the now-snoozing Jisoo back in her carrier. The conversation still swirls in your head as you watch Jay grab the pizza, too caught up in your thoughts to not even question how suspiciously fast it arrived. 

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, watching Jay at the door from your spot on the couch, your thoughts too heavy for someone who is literally holding a pizza box. 

For someone who sure likes to plan everything out, you definitely weren’t prepared for Jay Park—and how he's quickly becoming the exception to every rule you've ever made. 

✭・.・✫

The first thing that jars you awake is a piercing scream—Jisoo's, of course. Your eyes shoot open as you squint into the dim light, your eyes adjusting and blinking your way out of the accidental nap you fell into. You're trying to make sense of your surroundings through your blurry vision when...it hits you.  

This isn't your room. You're still at Jay's apartment, wedged into the corner of his couch, and apparently, you fell asleep. Post-pizza-food-coma style. And also apparently, your mutual robot child has decided now was a perfect time for a meltdown.  

The second thing you notice is the faint background noise of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire still playing on Jay's TV in front of you. Your memory jogs back to when you two finally came to a consensus on which movie to watch over dinner, and naturally, the deciding factor ended up being 'young Robert Pattinson,' and no, it wasn't your deciding factor. You didn't expect Jay to even have an opinion on this, but apparently, his love for Cedric Diggory is a hill he's willing to die on.  

And then...that brings us to the third thing. A sound from the other end of the couch—Jay's soft snores. You two must have dozed off at some point during the movie somehow and of course, he's still passed out cold, totally oblivious to the screams of robotic despair coming from the baby carrier seated between you two. You glance over at him, out cold with his head tilted back, looking completely unbothered by Jisoo's increasingly offended screams.  

But even through all these realizations, what really slaps you awake, more than Jisoo or Jay or Cedric Diggory, is the smell. It hits you like a rogue sock to the face, and for a moment, you're convinced that Jay definitely has some biological-grade garbage decomposing somewhere in the apartment after all. The smell is like a powerful, radioactive wave, and all you can think is, What in the world is this guy hiding in here? And why is it now coming to life?  

You sit up from your spot, still half-asleep, and follow the foul scent in horror until you realize the source.  

Jisoo.  

Sure, you have changed Jisoo's diapers plenty of times over the last two weeks, but before? There was no smell. At most, you get these weird, vaguely sticky robotic poops in her diaper that barely registered. Now? Now it’s like Professor Kim somehow remotely gave Jisoo a software update and coded her to emit a scent so pungent that it feels borderline illegal. You're convinced this is Jisoo’s final boss form—peak realism unlocked—solely just to spite you and your nostrils.

While you’re here on one end of the couch, one button away from confirming an Amazon Prime order to ship over a bottle of bleach for you to dip your nose into, Jay is still in blissful dreamland, not even flinching. You stare at him in disbelief, hoping your sheer mental outage might magically wake him up. No such luck. 

You grab the throw pillow that's wedged under you and chuck in right at his face.  

"Jay!" You're still half-asleep, so your voice comes out like a strangled whisper, somewhere between pleading and passive-aggressive murder.  

Jay jolts, sitting up with a sleepy yelp, blinking in confusion.

"Huh? What happened? Is Cedric okay?" His panicked gaze darts around the room wildly before they finally settle on you, across the couch. 

"What happened?" You raise a finger to the screaming, stinky, betrayal-machine between you two. "That happened, Jay. Jisoo happened."  

Jay blinks slowly, squinting at Jisoo, his brain clearly struggling to boot up, and then makes the fatal mistake of sniffing the air. The realization suddenly dawns slowly, and you can see the look of horror hit.

"Oh my god, how is she even capable of...of that?!" His voice breaks three octaves as his hand shoots up to pinch his nose.  

"I don't know!" You squawk, equally traumatized. "She's never done this before—I didn't even know she could!"  

Jay groans and rubs his eyes, hoping this is all a bad, bad dream. No such luck, yet again. He glances around helplessly. "So, uh, who's changing her?"  

You shoot him a glare as you get up from the couch and start looking for the baby bag.

"We're changing her, Jay."  

"We?" Jay winces, inching towards Jisoo with all the enthusiasm one has when approaching a radioactive waste barrel. He slowly reaches down to take Jisoo out from the carrier and he starts muttering to himself.

"Great. Fine, this is fine. Just another bonding moment with our adorable robo-daughter." He finally picks her up, reluctantly holding her at arm's length like she's a ticking time bomb. It's so ridiculous that, despite the war-crime-level smell permeating the room, you can't help the small laugh that you let out.  

"What?" Jay glares at you, though a look of amusement tugs at his lips. "You think this is funny?"  

"No," you say, barely stifling your giggles. "It's just—you're holding her like she's about to explode."  

Jay gives you a doubtful look, "Y/N, I'm not convinced she's not about to explode."  

You shake your head, still giggling as you shuffle the carrier off the couch and lay out a blanket, turning Jay's couch surface into a makeshift changing station.

"Alright, c'mon. Lay her down and hold her legs up. I'll handle clean-up duty. And maybe...brace yourself."  

Jay exhales like a man about to face his greatest fear. He gently lays Jisoo down and lifts her legs up with the tips of his fingers, his face still contorted as if you're both dealing with a toxic hazard. At this point, it probably is.  

"Oh my god," he breathes. "This is it. This is how I die."  

You crouch down in position so you're at level with the couch and say a mental prayer before you pull open the tiny diaper. The moment you do, the both of you immediately recoil as a scent that should not even be allowed to exist wafts up and fills the room.  

“Oh god.” 

The scent is so ungodly it feels like it came from the depths of hell itself and punched you both right in the face. It doesn’t just waft up—it attacks. You’re pretty sure you lost at least another three years off your life from one breath alone. 

"That's not legal," Jay chokes as he flings himself back at the sight, dropping Jisoo’s little toes in the process, flailing around as if the air itself betrayed him. "There's no way that's legal." 

You freeze in sheer horror, staring at the scene before you: Jisoo’s somehow realistic poop smeared across every surface of her bottom it possibly could spread to, the stench intensifying with every passing second.

Jay starts pacing the room, spiraling into an existential crisis.

“No, no, no, this isn’t normal. This is—this is a crime scene! This can’t be right.” 

“Jay,” your voice is muffled as a hand tries to cover both your nose and mouth from the contaminated air, “Jay, focus!” 

Jay looks at you from across the living room, wide-eyed and pale, like a deer caught in headlights.

“You expect me to—in this economy—” 

“Grab. The. Wipes.”

Jay groans and he stumbles back towards you, hesitantly rifling through the baby bag. His hands finally find the pack of wipes and he peers over your shoulder from behind you, as if you’re his shield. 

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you going to help?”

“I am helping,” Jay protests weakly, waving the pack of wipes like they’re a magic wand that might save you both.

You roll your eyes and turn back to Jisoo, “Okay, grab her legs again. I’ll wipe.” 

His eyes watch in horror as he reaches over you to take hold of the robot’s feet. With a deep breath, you start furiously scrubbing Jisoo’s little body, trying your best to breathe as minimally as possible, sticking your hand out towards Jay whenever you need a new wipe. 

“I signed up for fake parenting, not surviving a biohazard. This isn’t bonding; this is trauma,” Jay incoherently mumbles, placing a wipe in your hand. 

"I think this trauma is exactly what we're supposed to be learning and 'bonding' from," you retort, carefully tossing a soiled wipe into the designated waste bag.  

"Oh, so Professor Kim is forcing us to bond over mutual suffering? Very sweet," Jay deadpans as he hands you another wipe. 

"Exactly. Parenting at its finest."  

Finally, after you definitely lost three years of your life, the horror show is over. Jisoo is cleaned, diapered, and—somehow—actually looks peaceful for once. Like she didn't just commit a crime against humanity. 

Jay exhales, looking at her with a newfound joy. "Well. She's definitely...less terrifying when she's not screaming and emitting toxic fumes."  

You plop yourself on the couch and cradle Jisoo like she's a tiny, innocent angel instead of the cause of your collective suffering.

“I’m genuinely afraid to know what they put in her system for this to happen.” 

Jay collapses onto the couch beside you, visibly relieved, "Whatever it was, we did it. We survived. We did that." 

You can't help but laugh, still a bit punch-drunk from the adrenaline and exhaustion of it all, "We better get an A+ on this project."  

Jay chuckles, leaning his head back against the couch. The room falls into a brief silence, just the two of you sitting there, basking in the weird accomplishment of it all. Then, as if on cue, you both start laughing—a deep, exhausting kind of laugh that two people only share after a 'you had to be there' type moment. There's something about the whole ordeal—how ridiculous, how hilariously awful it was—that just makes it impossible to not laugh.  

"Now do you think we make a pretty good team?" Jay grins, nudging your shoulder with his.   

You roll your eyes at him, "I don't know...depends."  

Jay raises an eyebrow, "Depends on what?"  

"Depends on whether you can make it through the rest of the project without crying again," you quip, lips twitching into an amused grin.  

Jay gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. "Excuse you, I did not cry. My eyes were sweating from Jisoo's toxic fumes. A completely normal biological response, thank you very much."  

"Sure, Jay," you deadpan, shaking your head.  

"Besides," he continues, leaning back smugly, "I did all the heavy lifting. Literally. I held the live grenade."  

You snort, glancing down at Jisoo in your arms before handing her off to Jay, "You're unbelievable."  

"And you're stuck with me, partner," he grins back, rocking Jisoo in his arms. "You too, Jisoo." 

You lean back into the couch, watching Jay coo at the now-peaceful baby. Somewhere between his flair for over-the-top dramatics, his secret love for young Robert Pattinson, and (for some reason) endearing passion for photography, you realize…maybe Jay Park isn’t the complete disaster you thought he was. 

"Yeah," you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I guess I really am stuck with you."  

And for the first time since this ridiculous project started, you don't mind that as much as you thought you would.  

Jay would like to make a few things clear. 

First of all, none of this is his fault. 

He hopes you understand that, as his thumbs fly over the keyboard of his phone like his life depends on it.

Because, in a way, it does. 

Jay [11:32 AM]: “i swear it’s not my fault, but my friend, jake, his entire load of laundry is now the color of strawberry milk. and apparently i’m the only one that can help him. can i drop jisoo off with you for like… an hour? tops?” 

He stares at his phone, waiting for your response like you hold the key to his survival.

Because, in a way, you do. 

He hears Jisoo coo from her carrier, like even she knows how dire this situation is. Finally, his phone lights up with a buzz. 

Y/N [11:33 AM]: “i’m volunteering at a dog adoption event on campus, but sure, drop her off here :)” 

Jay blinks at his phone. A dog adoption event. Of course, you'd be saving puppies on a Saturday. Of course. Like some kind of unreasonably perfect human. And here he is, about to save a fully grown man from having to wear solely pink t-shirts for the next week.

Fantastic.   

With a sigh, Jay turns to Jisoo, who blinks back a stare that can only be described as the (robot) baby equivalent of good luck, bro. 

By the time Jay reaches campus, he's bombarded with the sight and sound of...dogs. Dogs everywhere. It's as if he's entered the chaotic lovechild of a Disney movie and a petting zoo, complete with wags, barks, and the smell of kibble. And then he sees you. 

You're smack in the middle of a fenced playpen, laughing, surrounded by every breed of fluffy chaos imaginable and passersby cooing 'aww' at the sight. And what a sight it is.  

You look ridiculously happy, and for some reason, that makes something in Jay's chest feel weirdly tight. He wonders what it must feel like to be able to make you smile that widely, that brightly. It's unnerving. He's not used to seeing you so relaxed, so content—or maybe he's just not used to noticing how good you look when you're not glaring at him.  

"Y/N!" a voice calls from the volunteer tent, snapping Jay out of his daydream. Jay watches from the distance as you haul a golden retriever pup into your arms and walk over to the tent, naturally falling into conversation with your friend and immediately organizing papers. Meanwhile, Jay stands there, dumbfounded at your unbothered, graceful rhythm that you seem to fall into like second nature. 

Jay thought he had you figured out, filed neatly in his mental drawer of uptight-control-freaks-that-happen-to-smell-like-roses-and-have-perfect-smiles, but now? Something about the way you look—so confident, so caring, so...natural—catches him off guard.

Now, you're like some serene multitasking goddess in the middle of pure chaos.  

That brings us to the second thing Jay would like to clarify (more so to himself): he definitely doesn't think you look good in, like, an attractive sense, or anything insane like that. Absolutely not. He just is simply impressed at how you seem to manage and carry yourself quite elegantly. This is pure admiration. Admiration, okay?  

But...while he's here, staring in 'admiration', it suddenly hits him—you're not just good at taking care of Jisoo. You're good at taking care of everything.  

And that makes his heart do a weird flip.  

The realization that he's been staring for way too long jolts him back to the present. Focus, Jay. There's a Jake somewhere out there, lost in a sea of pink underwear.  

Jisoo carrier in hand, Jay manages to push his way through the dog-packed crowds until he reaches you, but the second you turn around, flashing him that wide, carefree smile that he's still not used to, he's back to stumbling over himself.  

He’s 99% sure he audibly gulps. 

“Oh, Jay, you made it!” you say, shifting the puppy to one side of your arms to free a hand to grab Jisoo's carrier immediately. Your smile is disarmingly genuine. Jay thinks he may need to sit down.  

“Uh, yeah—um, thanks for taking Jisoo," he swallows, his voice barely steady as he's unsure what this feeling is that came over him. He doesn't know if it's the fact that he's seeing you in a completely different light right now, carrying both a live, adorable puppy, and a (not-so-live) baby, but something is different, and he's at a loss for words. "You look pretty—uh…busy.”  

He curses himself. Busy? Really? 

“Oh, no biggie,” you give him an easy, encouraging grin, one so casual that it really shouldn't make his knees feel like Jell-O. "Honestly, I'd be out here every weekend if I could. But you of all people know my schedule."  

Of course, you'd say something like that. Jay tries to think of a normal response, but his brain is spinning with all sorts of not-normal things about you—like how you look so aggressively pretty right now. 

And it’s a little infuriating. 

"Yeah, no, totally," Jay clears his throat, scratching the back of his head. "Because who doesn't want to be covered in dog hair and slobber for fun?"  

You roll your eyes, smiling. "Says the guy who's about to be knee-deep in a laundry crisis. Isn't that a little messy, too?"  

Jay huffs, feeling himself return just a little bit back to normal. “Listen, Jake’s a special case, okay? You can’t just leave him in that pink laundry disaster and expect him to survive.” 

"Right..," you laugh, rocking back and forth on your feet, your smile lingering as a comfortable silence falls between you.  

Maybe it's the way you're looking up at him, or the fact that a literal golden retriever is currently nuzzling into your neck, but Jay is doing everything in his power to keep his cool. You're looking at him in a way that isn't remotely judgmental (for once), and it's throwing him completely off-balance.  

Before Jay can pull it together and say something else, another voice calls your name, waving you over to a different table. You turn back to Jay, giving him an apologetic glance.  

"Do you mind watching Jisoo—and, um, this puppy—for a sec?"  

Before he can answer, or even process your words, he's standing there with an actual puppy in one arm, and Jisoo in her carrier in the other, and his life has become a circus he never auditioned for.  

"Sorry! They just need me real quick!" You say with a grateful smile as you hurry off.  

As you rush off with another apologetic smile, Jay's brain, for better or for worse, decides that grin of yours is now his mental screensaver. He watches you go, dumbly smiling before he catches himself. 

Not attraction, he reminds himself. Totally not attraction.  

He looks down at his arms—one occupied by a carrier with a robot baby, the other holding a wriggly puppy.  

"Bet no one's ever been in this situation before," he mutters, awkwardly standing there as he waits for your return. Honestly, Jay has never felt so awkward or nervous before. Right now, he feels like the epitome of the standing emoji, just simply existing and there, waiting for your next command and hoping he doesn't screw it up.  

Jay tries to hype himself up. You can do this, Park. It's just a dog. And a baby. And you. You've got this. You totally have everything und— 

Before he can finish his mental pep talk, the sound of your laughter rings from across the event, making Jay's head snap over in record time. He tries not to look—he really does—but the sound is too angelic to not. But right when he does look over, he immediately wishes he didn't. 

You're standing there between two of your friends, and you're giggling. With some guy he's never seen before. And this guy, is nudging your shoulder and making you laugh so hard you're practically doubling over. He feels a distinct twist in his chest. 

Jay’s definitely not jealous. Nope. Not even a little. It's just...curiosity. Pure, innocent curiosity about what that guy could possibly be saying to make you laugh so hard. Because Jay has never seen you laugh like that with him—ever.

And suddenly, the longer you continue laughing with that guy, Jay feels something hot and uncomfortable bubbling up inside.  

Fine, it’s jealousy.  

Definitely jealousy.

He scowls at himself. Now he’s basically a bitter standing emoji, clinging to Jisoo and a puppy while glaring from afar. 

And there Jay stands, bitterness levels maxed, holding both a puppy and a robot baby, while across the way, your roommate Esther gives you a knowing smirk while you're recovering from your giggling fit. Your giggling fit which was caused by Heeseung making a comment about how he stepped in dog poop more times than the average human-being accidentally should.  

“You didn’t tell me that was Jay Park,” Esther says, trying not-so-subtly to sneak a glance at the bitter standing emoji himself, awkwardly shifting his feet in the distance, avoiding to look in your direction. “You said he was annoying, lazy, and a pain to be around. You didn’t mention he’s a total cutie.” 

“He was annoying, lazy, and a pain to be around,” you scoff, though you're clearly not thinking that right now as you catch a glance of him trying to balance both the puppy and Jisoo. "But...I don't think he's so bad anymore."  

You definitely don't add that he's a total cutie. Okay, maybe you think it, but saying it out loud is a whole other thing.  

“Oh, so you totally like him,” Heeseung snickers from your other side, nudging you again.  

You make a sound that's half out-of-tune trumpet, half hiccup, before breaking into a laugh to cover your sudden panic.

"No, I don't!" You clear your throat, trying to stay cool.  "We're just—look, we're just stuck together for this project. That's all. Even if I did like him, which I don't, he definitely doesn't like me back. We're probably just going to go back to bickering with each other to no end."  

“Right,” Heeseung chimes in, giving you a look that says he's clearly unconvinced. “Just saying, though—someone who doesn’t like you wouldn’t be staring at you like that, and looking at me like I just committed a first-degree crime just for breathing in your direction."  

You follow Heeseung’s gaze and, sure enough, you catch Jay trying to look casual while bouncing the puppy and acting like he totally didn’t just get caught. Your eyes meet, and he does a 180 so fast he nearly launches Jisoo into orbit. 

You quickly turn back to your friends, heat rising to your face as you catch Esther and Heeseung giving each other a knowing look before smirking at you. You roll your eyes and grab the both of them by the back of their shirts, turning them in the direction of the event, "Okay, okay, enough with the delusions. Shouldn't you guys be signing off some puppies or something?"  

"Don't say we didn't tell you so!" Esther calls after you as you turn on your heels towards Jay, furiously convincing yourself that they're so wrong.  

There's no universe in which Jay Park, the Jay Park, would ever be into you. The Jay Park, who can get any girl he wants, the Jay Park who's just too different from you, the Jay Park who you proclaimed your school rival (self-proclaimed). Absolutely not.  

When you get back to him, Jay’s desperately trying to look natural—so, naturally, he’s scratching the puppy’s belly while Jisoo clings to his chest like a tiny koala. Your heart gives a little traitorous squeeze, but you ignore it. Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.  

“Looks like he likes you,” you say, trying to sound casual as you nod to the puppy, who's squirming excitedly under Jay's attention. 

“He’s adorable,” Jay replies, blushing faintly as he shifts the puppy around.

“So, uh, everything okay over there?” he asks, totally not imagining a deep, romantic conversation to explain your laughter. 

You’re caught off-guard, blinking, wondering if Jay somehow became psychic and caught onto your previous train of thoughts about him, until you realize what he meant.

“Oh! Yeah, they just… needed help with paperwork.” 

Jay’s expression hardens ever so slightly as he tries to imagine a world where paperwork could possibly be that funny.

“Cool, cool,” he nods stiffly, side-eyeing Heeseung in the distance who’s still chatting with Esther. 

"Well," Jay shifts awkwardly as clears his throat, "I should get going to Jake. He's probably in tears by now, honestly."  

You frown at that, and Jay instantly self-identifies himself as the worst person on the planet. He barely resists the urge to apologize for everything he's ever done, from breathing in your direction to any other crime against humanity he's committed in your eyes.  

"Aw, come on," you say, teasingly, though even you're not sure why. It's just...fun having him around. "Stay a little longer. For the puppies!"  

Jay opens his mouth, fully ready to decline when he catches sight of your expression—those big, pleading eyes that make it impossible to say no. 

And that's it. He's doomed. Right then and there, Jay knows he's doomed.  

Is Jay currently surrounded by more puppies than he ever thought could physically exist in one place?

Yes. 

Does he think your puppy eyes are somehow cuter than all the puppies combined?

Annoyingly, also yes.  

And so, Jay would like to make some new things clear, for the record:  

First, there is no way any of this is his fault. If Jake ends up crying over outfit choices and demands to know why Jay ditched him for puppies, Jay has a rock-solid explanation. He’ll explain the situation, which obviously couldn’t be helped. Hanging out with you? Totally justified. Perfectly valid.  

And second, well—Jay would like to clarify that it's official now. Whatever he was feeling before?

Yeah, definitely attraction.  

Your fingers drum against your blanket. You stare blankly at your bedroom ceiling. You let out another deep sigh. You toss and turn, adjusting your position for maybe the hundredth time. It's no use.

You're bored.  

And that, in itself, is a shocking revelation. You're never bored. Your schedule is usually packed to the brim—between assignments, club meetings, work shifts, and impromptu Save the Puppies campaigns, there's hardly room for boredom. But today?  

Today, life has gifted you a rare stretch of free time. No assignments to finish, no midterms to study for, no dog adoption events or café shifts. And apparently, you have no idea how to handle that.  

You turn to look at Jisoo, who's chilling in her spot on your bed next to you, not having a single ounce of consciousness for you to share your boredom with.  

With another sigh, you grab your phone and scroll aimlessly through your apps. You eventually land in your Photos app and swipe through mindlessly until a recent picture stops you in your tracks.  

It's a selfie Jay took of the two of you, Jisoo sandwiched between your faces. The infamous day of the pizza-night-turned-accidental-nap-turned-godforsaken-poop-incident. You'd submitted the photo to Professor Kim as proof of your co-parenting efforts, but now, looking at it again, you can't help but smile.  

It's strange. The memory should be traumatic—okay, it is traumatic—but in hindsight, it's also...kind of fun. The chaos, the banter, the way Jay somehow managed to make everything feel less overwhelming just by being there.  

Funny enough, that day was also the last time you remember having any sort of free time, and you remember complaining that you had to spend the day with Jay of all people. But now, looking back at it, you honestly did have fun. Being with Jay was...fun.  

Your thumb hovers over the screen for a moment before it unconsciously drifts towards the Phone app. You hesitate, realizing with a jolt that you're one tap away from calling Jay. It's like your brain suddenly shut off and something took over you. What's gotten into you?  

You blink at Jay's contact on your phone, your thumb still hovering over his name.  

No. Bad idea.  

You don't need Jay to entertain you just because you're bored. You're perfectly capable of having fun on your own...obviously. Obviously, even though the last hour of groaning and ceiling-staring suggests otherwise.  

Besides, Jay's probably busy doing...whatever it is Jay does at 4PM on a Saturday. Napping, probably.  

And what would you even say? Let's hang out? Like some middle schooler asking out their crush? Not to mention, you already have your 'Jisoo' plans in two days, so it's not like you have an excuse to see him.  

You sit up abruptly, shaking your head as if to clear the fog of ridiculous thoughts. Seriously, do you even hear yourself right now? Looking for an excuse to see him? Since when did you need excuses for anything, let alone something as absurd as spending more time than necessary with Jay Park?  

This has to be some kind of stress-induced meltdown. It's the only logical explanation. All those late-night study sessions, midterm panic attacks, Jisoo diaper changes, and endless extracurriculars must've finally fried your brain. And now, here you are, teetering on the edge of reason, actually wanting to see Jay Park.  

Great. Now you have a new problem.  

Because as much as you try to convince yourself otherwise, the truth is glaringly obvious: you want to see him. And that, more than any amount of free time or boredom, is the real problem. 

You've officially lost it.  

I've officially lost it, you chant in your head as your thumb hovers dangerously close to Jay's name on your screen again.  

I've officially lost it, the words grow louder, taunting you, as you hover over the call button. 

I've officially lost it, your thoughts scream as you give in, pressing down and watching in horror as your screen shifts to Calling Jay Park. 

And now, your heartbeat picks up with every ring. You can't decide what's worse—him answering or him ignoring the call. Maybe if he doesn't pick up, it'll be a sign from above that you're better off leaving this madness alone. Maybe—

"Hello?"  

Your train of thought screeches to a halt.  

"Y/N? Are you there?"  

"I'm here!" You blurt out, your voice jumping two octaves higher than usual. Real smooth, Y/N.  

"Hi...what's up? Are you okay? Is something wrong?" His voice is soft over the phone, a little concerned, like you're about to tell him Jisoo had another diaper emergency.  

You falter for a moment, staring at the ceiling like the answer might be written there.

"No! Nothing's wrong! I just—uh–" Quick, think of something normal!

"I was wondering what you're up to."  

"Me?" He sounds genuinely surprised, and you can practically hear the smile in this voice. At least, you think. Or, once again, you've officially lost it. "I'm at the campus gallery, setting up for my photography showcase. It's tonight."  

The campus gallery. His photography.  

You blink, this is news to you. You vaguely remember Jay asking if you could watch Jisoo tonight, and he hadn't given you a reason back then, but this is why he couldn't be on Jisoo duty today. Because of his showcase.  

"Wait, really?" You ask, hoping the interest in your voice doesn't show too much.  

"Yeah. I didn't mention it? Guess I forgot," he chuckles lightly. "It's not a big deal, just a student showcase. I'm just setting up now, making sure my pieces are hung straight and stuff."  

You swallow, a sudden wave of curiosity washing over you. You find yourself smiling to yourself, feeling a wave of endearment wash over you for some reason. The idea of Jay being completely focused and serious about a passion of his is...it's nice. It’s hard to reconcile the carefree, sarcastic guy you know with the thoughtful perspective he must have to capture the kinds of photos he does. 

"You should come by," he says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. His voice is casual, but you think you catch a small, hopeful note in it. "If you're free, I mean. No pressure."  

You hesitate, your mind racing. Go? Don't go? It's just a showcase. It's not like it means anything. Right?  

"I'll think about it," you manage, trying to sound nonchalant.  

"Cool." There's a smile in his voice again. "Let me know. I'll save you a front-row seat."  

"Front row seat? For a gallery?" You deadpan, rolling your eyes as if he can see if over the phone.  

"Hey, I'm just being a good host."  

"Hmmm," you smile to yourself again. "Maybe. We'll see."  

But your decision was made the second he suggested that you should come. 

It doesn't mean anything. Friends come support each other all the time, right? Wait—

Are you and Jay even friends? You shake your head, trying to dismiss the warmth starting to spread in your chest.  

It's just photography.

It's just Jay.

Nothing to overthink here.  

✭・.・✫

“Okay, Jisoo, in and out,” you whisper to the robot baby in the carrier that's perched in your arms as you stand frozen outside the campus gallery doors. "We're just stopping by to say hi. Two minutes max. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Nothing dramatic."  

Jisoo stares back at you, wide-eyed and unhelpfully silent, which you take as strong moral support.

"Thanks, Jisoo," you mutter, like a lunatic seeking validation from a robot.  

Maybe you shouldn't even go in. It's basically the end of the event anyway—what are the odds he'd even notice you didn't show?

Slim. Probably. Right?  

It's not like you didn't have a valid excuse for your lateness. You did have to change Jisoo’s diaper before you left, and that was a whole thing. But let's be real. 

The real delay?

The real delay was you standing in front of your closet for a solid half hour like a contestant on America's Next Top Existential Crisis. What do you even wear to casually drop by someone's photography showcase? Something that says, Hey, I'm effortlessly supportive, but I totally don't care if you notice me (yes I do).  

Spoiler alert: that outfit does not exist.  

And then—because clearly, you love to torture yourself—you spent another thirty minutes pacing around your room trying to figure out why you cared so much in the first place.  

It's Jay. Jay. The guy who thought sticking googly eyes on Jisoo's bottle would make her drink faster. Why are you stressed? Why are your palms sweaty?  

But despite all that, you somehow made it here, standing outside the gallery with your stomach doing flips like you're about to walk into your own trial. You made it all the way here, so might as well go in, right?  

You swallow hard, adjust your grip on your emotional support robot baby, and push the door open. 

And there he is.  

Center stage, right where he belongs—or at least where he seems to thrive. Standing in front of a massive wall of his framed photographs, the studio lights catch his profile just right. It's almost unfair, like he's been personally photoshopped by the gods themselves. He's surrounded by a small crowd, gesturing animatedly with his hands as he speaks, his smile so bright you're convinced it's starting to hurt your eyes.  

But his eyes? There's this sparkle in them. Not the usual playful glint you've grown used to, but something deeper, softer. You've never seen him look so alive, so utterly in his element, and it's doing weird things to your chest. 

You can't help but wonder—what does it feel like to make him look that happy? Not that it matters, obviously.

It's just a thought.

A completely useless, irrelevant, go-away-right-now kind of thought.  

If you weren't busy trying not to trip over your own feet and accidentally drop Jisoo, you might have stopped to take it all in. To admire the way he looks standing there, talking about something he clearly loves, like he's found this magical pocket of the universe where nothing else matters. Might have.  

But instead, your thoughts screech in a halt, jolting you out of your daydream.  

Abort mission. This was a terrible idea.  

Why did you come here? Why is your face hot? Can Jisoo smell fear?  

Before you can think of a single coherent reason to not turn around and bolt, Jay glances up. And he spots you.  

His eyes light up even more—if that's even physically possible. "Y/N?" He calls out, grinning widely.  

Great. Now you're here. He's happy to see you. You're standing in the middle of his gallery with a robot baby that can most definitely smell your fear.  

Fantastic. Just fantastic.  

Jay's voice cuts through your existential spiral, "Y/N!" He's waving you over as he calls out your name again, like you're a long-lost friend who's just returned from war. 

Well, to be fair, you are fighting a war—against your own dumb feelings.  

"Hey!" You croak, trying to sound casual but ending up somewhere between a dog's favorite squeaky toy and a rusty car horn. You internally flinch at your own voice.  

"Wow, you came," he says, his sweet smile still on display as you shuffle over to where he's standing. "And you brought Jisoo! My biggest fan."

He reaches out to cup Jisoo's cheeks, and you almost smack yourself in the head for feeling jealous over your own robot baby.  

"Yeah, well," you start, trying to sound nonchalant. "I figured, you know, project partners should support each other...teamwork and all that."  

Jay raises an eyebrow, clearly trying to stifle a laugh, "Right. Teamwork. Totally."  

You shift your weight from one leg to another, awkwardly looking up, eventually landing your eyes on the wall behind him, scanning the photos on display. Each photo is so him—a little chaotic, a little bold, but somehow...strikingly beautiful. There's a photo of a rainy city street, the light catching every droplet; a close-up of a sunflower against a brilliant sky; a candid of a kid laughing, his face tilted up toward the sun.  

You suddenly feel a weird, warm pull in your chest. It’s one thing to see Jay cracking jokes and making sarcastic comments during late-night baby meltdowns. But this? This is a side of him you’ve never seen before—one that’s thoughtful, intentional, passionate. 

You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until Jay speaks up, his voice softer now. “Do you like them?” 

You blink, startled, and then nod a little too quickly. You hope he doesn't notice (he does).  

"Yeah. I mean...these are really good, Jay. You're–" you cut yourself off, realizing you're about to say something embarrassing.

''–talented," you finish lamely.  

"Thanks," Jay tilts his head, looking almost shy. "That means a lot, actually."  

His voice is so genuine that it throws you off. You weren't prepared for this level of sincerity. It makes your stomach flip in a way that's both exciting and mildly terrifying.  

Jay gestures toward the wall, his hands shoved into his pockets like he's trying not to fidget.

"I wasn't sure if this was your kind of thing, thought you'd be busy and stuff, but I'm glad you came. I, uh..," he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, "I was kind of hoping you would."  

Oh.  

Oh?  

OH.  

Your brain immediately short-circuits. He hoped you'd come? Like...in a we're-in-this-together-as-project-partners way, or in a please-let-this-mean-something-more-than-project-partners way? Is this what cardiac arrest feels like? Should you call someone? Should you call him? No, wait, you're already talking to him—focus! 

You clear your throat and try to channel every ounce of chill you simply do not possess.

"Well," you say, attempting to keep your voice steady and failing miserably, "I'm here."  

It comes out barely louder than a whisper, and you immediately regret every life decision that's led you to this moment. But then Jay smiles—soft, something smaller, more private—and it's like the world shifts slightly off its axis.  

"Yeah," he says quietly, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that makes you forget how to breathe. "You are."  

And just like that, the noise of the environment dissolves, and the rest of the world shrinks to nothing but the space between you and him. The moment feels impossibly big like it might swallow you whole, and yet so small it could shatter with the slightest breath.  

You're pretty sure you're about to combust. Explode. Turn into a human firework fueled entirely by sheer tension and whatever it is that's happening right now. God, why does he have to look at you like that? Like you're not standing here internally unraveling?  

You break eye contact to glance down at Jisoo, and you're positive she's giving you a look that screams, Stop being weird, you two.  

"Anyway!" You blurt out, desperate to break the tension.

"Which one's your favorite?" You gesture to the photos, your eyes darting anywhere but his own. 

He laughs, and the sound is warm and unguarded, "C'mon, I'll show you."  

He grabs your free hand without thinking, tugging you toward the far end of the wall. And just like that, you're helplessly following him, heart racing again, wondering how the hell you got here—and why you never want to leave.  

So much for in and out.  

Jay pulls you towards the far end of the gallery, his hand wrapped around yours like it's the most natural thing in the world.  

It's not.  

Your brain is in full-blown meltdown mode. Red alerts, sirens blaring, a voice screaming, "WE'RE HOLDING HANDS, PEOPLE!"  

But there's no way you're about to let him see how much this is affecting you, so you shove the chaos down, pretending like your hand isn't currently experiencing the touch equivalent of fireworks...and hoping that it isn't sweaty.  

"This one," Jay says, stopping in front of a photo that's somehow both ordinary and magical. It's a simple shot of your campus football field, taken from the bleacher stands. You've stood in those very bleachers too many times to count—for school events, games, the occasional half-hearted attempt to pretend you like sports. But somehow, in this shot, the field looks...different.  

The grass glows like it's soaked in liquid gold under a sky caught between dusk and twilight. The field is empty, yet it doesn't feel lonely. There's something about it that Jay managed to capture—like it holds a thousand stories and secrets, quietly hopeful in its stillness.  

"It's beautiful," you murmur, the words slipping out before you can catch them. 

"Yeah," Jay lets out a breath. "It's my favorite spot on campus. I go there a lot when I need to think or just...get away a bit."  

You glance at him, startled at the sudden vulnerability in his voice. Jay never strikes you as someone who gets lost in his head; he always seemed too confident, too effortlessly sure of himself. But right now, he's not looking at you—he's staring at the photo, like he's seeing something beyond it.  

"I took it on one of those days—I was just overthinking a lot about life. About who I am, I guess," he continues. "I didn't think it'd turn out good or anything, but...I don't know. It felt right."  

Your chest tightens. There's something so raw in the way he's speaking, like he's letting you see a side of him he usually keeps hidden. It makes you wonder how many other layers Jay Park has, and why it feels so important to uncover them all.  

The silence between you stretches as you watch Jay continue to study his own photograph. There's a softness in his gaze, a quiet vulnerability that makes you feel like you're seeing him a way few people ever do.  

But then he blinks, breaking the moment, and suddenly he's looking at you. You stiffen, panic bubbling up at the possibility that he might've noticed you staring at him.  

"Sorry," he says, his voice carrying a self-deprecating chuckle. "It's really cheesy and stupid."  

You find yourself shaking your head before he even finishes his sentence.

"No! Not at all, really," you blurt out, the words stumbling over themselves in their rush to escape. You feel the heat creeping up your neck, mortified at your sudden intensity.  

Jay raises an eyebrow, amused, but doesn't say anything, so you clear your throat and try again, softer this time, "I mean it. You have a good eye, Jay."

You mean it more than you've meant anything in a while, and you hope he knows that.  

For a second, he just looks at you, like he's taking note of something, his head tilted ever so slightly. And then, slowly, his lips curve into that small, genuine smile that makes your chest feel annoyingly warm.

"Thanks, Y/N."  

Your heart does a little somersault. Oh great. There it goes again.  

And as if Jisoo can sense the moment might be getting too serious, she lets out a cry. You stumble back, jump scared enough by the loud and sudden sound, and Jay reacts instantly, steadying you with his hands on your shoulders.  

"You okay?" He asks, his face so close that you can now confirm there are literal, actual flecks of gold in his eyes. Of course there are.  

You blink. I've officially lost it. Completely, utterly, hopelessly, lost it.  

You nod, your voice stuck in your throat. Am I okay? No. No, you are not okay. You are decidedly not okay.  

Jay clears his throat, stepping back—though his hands linger a beat longer than they probably need to, but still a second too short than you should probably want to. 

You want to scream into the void.  

"Looks like it's time for Jisoo's dinner," he says lightly with a small chuckle. 

You fumble for words, your brain still offline.

"Uh—yeah. I left her bottle at my place, and I should probably get going anyways," you manage, your voice a little too breathless for comfort.  

Jay glances at his watch, pausing for a moment before looking back at you, something hopeful flicking in his eyes.

"I'm pretty much done here," he says, tilting his head towards the door. "It's late. Let me walk you home."  

You hesitate, torn between insisting you're perfectly fine on your own (you're not) and letting him (you want to). But the way he's looking at you—like it's no big deal, like he simply wants to—makes the decision for you.  

"Okay," you say, quieter than you mean to, and before you can second-guess yourself, Jay's already taking Jisoo's carrier from your arms, effortlessly shifting it onto his own.  

"Let's go," he says, flashing you a small smile that feels like a punch to your stomach in the best way possible.  

And just like that, you're walking side by side into the cool night air, your breaths visible in the chill, easily falling into a comfortable rhythm as you walk through the quiet campus, the streetlights above casting long shadows ahead of you. 

There’s something easy about walking with him like this. It shouldn’t feel this natural—your heart’s doing somersaults and pirouettes like it’s auditioning for a circus—but it does. You steal a glance at him, and he’s focused on the path ahead, his profile calm and soft in the glow of the lights. 

"So," Jay breaks the quiet as he stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets, "Can you believe the project's almost over?"  

You let out a small laugh, tilting your head, "Honestly, no. Feels like just yesterday I was praying you'd drop the class."  

Jay laughs, a sound that seems to echo in the quiet environment.

"Wow, Y/N. I thought we were bonding."  

"We were," you tease, turning to him with a barely concealed smirk. "I just also thought you were going to be a disaster of a partner."  

He scoffs, giving you a mock-offended look, "I proved you wrong, right? I was amazing since day one."  

"You handed Jisoo to me like she was a bomb, Jay," you remind him, unable to stop yourself from laughing.  

"I was assessing the danger!" Jay protests, his grin widening. "And excuse me, I've stepped up. I've made bottles, I've cleaned her, I even know how to put on a diaper the right side up!"  

"Jay, the fact that you had to learn which way was right side up is concerning in itself," you manage to let out with a giggle. 

"Details, details," he waves a dismissive hand. "Point is, I'm practically father of the year."  

You roll your eyes, but you're smiling. A sharp breeze suddenly hits the both of you, and you visibly shiver from the lack of warmth your outfit provides. All that time choosing an outfit, and you still couldn't pick a weather-appropriate one. Stellar, Y/N.  

And of course, Jay notices immediately. Before you can so much as form a protest, he's shrugging his jacket off and draping it over your shoulders, your body immediately stiffening as his hands brush against you lightly in the process.  

You open your mouth to say something—anything, even just a whispered thank you—but Jay beats you to it, sparing you the effort of finding actual, coherent words. 

“So,” he says casually, like he hasn’t just sent your brain spiraling, “what do you think you’ll do when it’s over?”

"Uh," you blink, still needing a second to reorient yourself. "Sleep, for once."  

Jay laughs again. "Fair. You deserve it. But you'll miss me, right?"  

"Not even for a second," you deadpan without hesitation.  

"Liar," he teases, bumping your shoulder lightly.  

You reach your building all too soon, the doors looming in front of you like an unwelcome reminder that this walk, this moment, is about to end. You stop just before the steps and turn to face him, rocking on your heels.  

"Okay, maybe a little," you admit, shrugging. "But only because you make me look like the competent one by comparison."  

"Wow," Jay shakes his head, but there it is again. The smile—the small, amused one that makes his eyes crinkle just enough to be unfairly attractive. 

You glance up at him, wishing the walk had been just a few blocks longer. Or a few miles.  

"Well," you say finally, forcing your gaze away from his own. "Thanks for walking me. And for carrying Jisoo." 

You reach for Jisoo's carrier, and Jay hands it over without hesitation, but not before shrugging like it's no big deal.

"No problem," he says. Then, as you're adjusting the carrier on your arm, he adds, "And thanks again, Y/N. For coming tonight. It really meant a lot."  

Your heart does that stupid fluttery thing again it's been doing all night, and you're starting to think you need a medical consultation.  

"Yeah, well," you clear your throat. "Partner support, you know?" You sound dumb, Y/N. Dumb.  

Jay smirks, but there's something gentler in his expression now, a flicker of something you can't quite name. 

"Goodnight, Y/N. And goodnight, Jisoo," he says, giving a small wave to the baby carrier, making you giggle slightly.  

He takes a few steps back, his hands slipping into his pockets, and gives you one last smile before turning to walk away. But before he gets too far, something bursts out of you, unwarned.  

"Jay!"  

He stops, turning on his heels, his brows lifting in surprise. "Yeah?"  

You step forward, closing a bit of the distance between you, suddenly hyper-aware of how your voice wavers.

"Um, I was wrong. You're...not all that bad." Why am I doing this? "I'm sorry if I've been...you know, intense. These past few years."  

Jay blinks at you, his surprise turning into something softer. You take a deep breath, pushing through the self-inflicted awkwardness. 

"You've been a really good partner," you add, offering a small, genuinely smile. "And well...you're pretty cool."  

His studies your face for a moment, the look longing and careful, like he's piecing together something fragile. A faint smile tugs at his lips, and there's a warmth in his expression that sends heat rushing to your cheeks.   

For a moment, the two of you just stand here, caught in the glow of the streetlamp. The world around you feels distant, like someone's hit the mute button on everything but the sound of your heartbeat.  

Jay's smile widens ever so slightly, and he nods, his voice quiet but firm, "I'll see you around, Y/N."  

He takes a few steps backward, his gaze holding yours until he finally turns and starts walking away. You watch him disappear into the night, the outline of his figure fading with the streetlights, and only then do you realize you've been holding your breath.  

As you step into your building and climb the stairs to your apartment, the night replays in your head on a loop—his laugh, his smile, his everything.  

When you finally reach your door, you lean against it for a moment, his large jacket still wrapped around you. Your thoughts crash into you all at once, and two things become alarmingly clear:  

You are completely, utterly, hopelessly in like with Jay Park.  

You're in so much trouble.  

“Congratulations, everyone!” Professor Kim clasps her hands together at the front of the classroom, a wide smile on her face. “You’ve survived six weeks of parenting. Hopefully, you’ve learned something useful—and that it hasn’t scared you off from actual parenthood one day. Each baby had a monitor tracking its status, so I’ll be extracting that data, combining it with your progress reports, and factoring it into your grade.” 

Jay leans toward you from his seat next to you, his breath warm against your ear.

“That’s a little creepy…she’s going to take Jisoo apart? The poor thing.” His smirk is half-guilty, half-amused, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from laughing out loud. 

This is new. Six weeks ago, he was Mr. Front-Row Enthusiast, and sometime between then and now, you’ve somehow managed to convert him into your next-row-back partner. He’d grumbled at first when you insisted about your theory that the front row screamed try-hard, but since then, he doesn’t even glance at the seats up front anymore. 

“Grades will be out soon! I’ll see you all next week,” Professor Kim announces. “And don’t forget to submit your reflection posts!” 

The shuffle of bags and jackets fills the room as students thank her on their way out. Slowly, the lecture hall empties, until it’s just you and Jay lingering at your seats. 

“Well,” you say, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you stand. “That’s it. No more parenting lessons for us.” 

Jay heaves a dramatic sigh, his lips pulling into a pout that’s far too endearing for your peace of mind, “I can’t believe it. I already miss Jisoo.” 

You chuckle lightly but feel an odd tug in your chest, “Right? I got so used to carrying her and her baby bag everywhere. It’s weird not having her around.” 

And it is weird. You never thought you’d feel this way about a glorified hunk of plastic and wires, but now, without Jisoo, something feels…off.  

Or maybe it’s not just Jisoo. Maybe it’s the fact that this project, unexpectedly enough, turned into an excuse—a reason to spend so much time with Jay. Now that it’s over, what happens next? 

The thought hangs between you as the two of you head out of the building. The campus is alive with the hum of students, the energy buzzing around you as everyone heads to their afternoon classes. You both stop outside, standing awkwardly side by side as the silence stretches. 

No more 'Jisoo days' to plan for. No more excuses to text. No more shared tasks or inside jokes. 

Will he go back to his front-row seat, forgetting these last few weeks? Or will he—will you—pretend none of this ever happened? 

Jay shifts beside you, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes flicker to yours, then away again, as if he’s waiting for you to say something first. 

“Well,” you finally say, breaking the quiet because it’s just too heavy to bear. “I have to head to my next class.” 

“Right. Yeah,” Jay says quickly, too quickly, his hands both fidgeting with the straps of his backpack. “Makes sense.” 

He hesitates, his mouth opening like he’s about to add something, but then he stops. You notice the way he’s looking at you, like there’s a thousand things he wants to say but can’t figure out how to start. You feel that familiar heat creep up your neck, the same one you tend to get whenever you’re around him nowadays.  

“Alright,” you finally say, shifting on your feet. “See you around, then?” 

Jay’s lips turn up in a small, almost longing, smile, “Yeah. See you.” 

He doesn’t move, though. Neither do you. It’s like both of you are waiting for the other to take a step away first, and the pause grows longer and longer until you can practically hear the universe screaming at you to just go already. It’s getting unbearably uncomfortable for all of us, Y/N.  

And when you finally start to turn, before you can even take three steps, his voice stops you. 

“Hey.” 

You glance back over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

Jay scratches the back of his neck, looking like he’s fighting some kind of internal battle.

“Uh, you were also a really good partner. You know, with Jisoo. I mean, you were kinda terrifying at first with all your color-coded schedules and spreadsheets, but…” 

His smile softens, and his voice drops a little, “You were great. Really. I think I learned a thing or two from you.”  

Your stomach flips in a way that’s both infuriating and addictive. 

“Thanks,” you say, trying to sound casual even though your brain is short-circuiting. “Means a lot from someone who had to Google which way a diaper goes.”  

He laughs, the sound bright and warm in the cool air, “Okay, one time, Y/N. Let it go.” 

“Nope.” You grin, turning fully toward him now, your nerves settling under the familiarity of teasing. “You’ll never live it down. It’s my parting gift to you.” 

Jay presses a hand to his chest, feigning hurt, “Wow. I pour my heart out, and this is what I get in return?” 

“Exactly.” 

He chuckles again, shaking his head before finally stepping back, breaking the invisible bubble that’s been holding you both in place.

“Alright. I’ll see you, Y/N.” 

“Bye, Jay,” you say, forcing yourself to turn and start walking away.  

You make it a few steps before you hear his voice a second time, softer this time, almost hesitant. 

“Y/N.” 

You glance back, your heart skipping a beat. 

Jay looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before his lips curve into a small, lopsided smile.

“Text me when you get home later tonight, okay? After your day is done.”  

You blink, caught off guard.

“What?” 

“Just…so I know you got there safe,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. But the way his voice dips at the end betrays him. 

Your chest tightens in a way that officially feels dangerous. But you know you never want to get enough of this feeling.   

“Okay,” you manage to say, the word quieter than you meant, but it was the most you could muster up with the bubble stuck in your throat.  

Jay nods, his smile widening just a little.

“Good.” 

And this time, when you turn away, you can’t stop the smile that sneaks onto your face. 

✭・.・✫

By the time you get home, it’s late, and the apartment is quiet. Esther is nowhere to be found—probably out with Heeseung or at the library pretending to study. You toe off your shoes and drop your bag by the door, the routine feeling strangely empty without Jisoo’s carrier on your arm and her baby bag strapped to the other.  

With a sigh, you find your way to your room and collapse onto your bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. Jay’s parting words have been echoing in your head all day, barely letting you focus during the rest of your classes—“Text me when you get home.” 

You hover over your messages for a second longer than necessary, typing and deleting a draft once, then twice, then a third time, before finally hitting send: 

Y/N [8:52PM]: home safe 👍 

You stare at the screen for exactly three seconds before flinging your phone across your bed. You roll over, face buried in your pillow, half hoping he doesn’t reply so you don’t have to overanalyze the significance of a thumbs-up emoji. 

But, of course, your phone buzzes almost instantly. 

Jay [8:53PM]: good 👍 sleep well. 

A small, ridiculous smile tugs at your lips. You really shouldn’t be this giddy over such a mundane exchange, over a thumbs up emoji, but somehow, here you are. 

And that’s when you start going insane. You shoot up from your spot in bed.  

Why did he tell you to text him? Does he say that to everyone? Or was it just…you? And why does he keep looking at you like that? You’ve never been the kind of person to spiral like this, but lately, everything about Jay has you unraveling in ways you don’t know how to handle.

Clearly.  

You groan, flailing your arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Get it together, Y/N,” you mutter to yourself, but it’s no use. Every little interaction from the past six weeks replays in your head on a loop—his laughter, his stupid jokes, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by a sharp buzz from your phone. You glance over, half expecting a random notification (the other half hoping Jay double texted you) but instead, it’s the one you’ve been waiting for without realizing it: 

Professor Kim: Final grades are posted! 

Your heart leaps. Practically fumbling with your phone, you open the grading portal, scanning the page with a held breath. And there it is, staring back at you in bold letters: 

Semester Project Grade: 100% 

“YES!” you exclaim, punching the air like a successful cartoon character. You’re grinning so wide your cheeks hurt, practically bouncing in bed. It’s the kind of happiness that makes you feel like you’re going to burst if you don’t share it with someone. 

And there’s only one person you want to share it with. 

Before you know what you’re doing, your closet doors are wide open, your hands rifling through. Your hands land on his jacket—the one he lent you after the showcase—and something about it feels right. You shrug it on, ignoring the way it smells faintly like him (and comfort), and grab your keys without a second thought. 

By the time you realize what you’re doing, you’re already halfway to Jay’s apartment. It’s not like you had a plan—just this overwhelming need to see him.  

Because somehow, he’s become the first person you want to share everything with, want to experience every moment with, want to feel every feeling with, and that thought is both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.  

But you’ve never been so sure of anything else before.  

Your breath hitches as you reach his familiar door, hand raised to knock. You hesitate for a moment, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this is. Who shows up at someone’s place at this hour, unannounced, just to tell them about a grade? What if he already saw it and didn’t even think twice? You look insane, Y/N. Insane.  

But then you think about the way he looked at you earlier, the way he smiled when he said “good job.” 

And you knock.  

✭・.・✫

Jay doesn’t know what’s happening. One second, he’s on his couch editing photos, and the next, someone’s trying to break down his door. At least, that’s what it sounds like. The pounding is so aggressive it makes his mug of tea tremble slightly on the table. 

Heart racing, Jay tosses his laptop aside and scans the room for a weapon. Nothing. Great. In a flash of panic, he grabs the TV remote because, sure, it’s sleek, ergonomic, and maybe intimidating in the right light. 

Bracing himself for certain doom, he yanks the door open— 

“Oh.” 

It’s you. 

At his doorstep. 

Unannounced. 

In his jacket. 

Jay flatlines. All he can do is stare at you in the oversized jacket—his oversized jacket—looking like you walked straight out of one of his dream scenarios. The rational part of him is trying to keep it together, but the feral part of his brain is screaming She’s in my clothes. Marriage now. 

You tilt your head, studying his expression.

“Jay? Are you…okay?” 

He blinks, realizing he’s been standing there for a good five seconds with his mouth slightly open.  

“Uh. Yeah. Totally. Uh—what’s up?” 

“Well first, why are you wielding a TV remote like it’s a sword?” 

Jay glances down at the remote in his hand, then back at you.

“…I thought you were a robber.” 

“A robber?” you repeat, struggling not to laugh. “What kind of robber knocks?” 

“I don’t know, maybe a polite one!” 

You let out a giggle and shrug, “Fair enough. But anyway, I’m here because—did you see?” 

“See what?” He frowns, confused, and still recovering from his adrenaline rush. 

“Professor Kim posted our grades! We got a 100%!” 

Jay stares at you for a second before the words sink in.

“Wait—what? We got a hundred?” 

“Yes!” You’re practically bouncing, a bright smile lighting up your face. “A perfect score, Jay!” 

He laughs and steps forward, grabbing your shoulders in his hands.

“No way. We actually did it?!” 

“We did it!” You beam back, jumping up and down. “We crushed it!” 

Jay’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt, but he doesn’t care. There’s something about seeing you this happy, standing in his doorway like a whirlwind of energy, that makes his chest feel way too full, too complete.  

And for a moment, the two of you are just standing there, caught up in the moment, smiling at each other like idiots. 

When the excitement dies down, Jay notices the way you’re still slightly breathless, like you’d run all the way here.  

“Wait,” he squints. “You could’ve just texted me, you know.” 

“Oh,” you shift your weight, suddenly looking a little shy. “Yeah. But I just…wanted to see you.” 

Jay blinks. His brain is once again malfunctioning.  

“Oh.”  

Oh? 

OH.  

“Yeah. So…here I am,” you add, failing miserably to conceal the wobble in your voice.  

“Here you are,” he repeats, his voice back to that soft tone that knows how to make your heart go into overdrive.  

His eyes flicker to yours and stay there as the air between you suddenly feels heavier. Charged. 

“Is that all?” Jay asks, his lips twitching into a teasing smile. 

“Uh,” you clear your throat, looking anywhere but at him. “I guess.” 

Jay leans against the doorframe, studying you with that stupidly charming smirk of his, “Well, then.” 

“Well, then,” you echo, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his jacket like it’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever encountered (spoiler: it’s not. That would be Jay’s face. But we’re not admitting that just yet). 

Neither of you moves. Not even a millimeter. The silence stretches so long that you’re pretty sure somewhere in the world, a Netflix show just autoplayed its next episode. 

Then, suddenly, Jay watches as your face cycles through the emotional Olympics: panic, resolve, regret, and whatever it is that makes your eyebrows do that cute scrunch thing he secretly loves. 

“I should go,” you say, finally breaking the silence, your voice quieter now. “Sorry for barging in like this.” 

You look down at your feet, hands still mindlessly playing with the sleeve of his jacket. Jay’s stomach twists at the sight—at the quiet, unsure way you’re suddenly retreating.  

No. Absolutely not. He doesn’t know where his bravery is coming from (he suspects it’s sheer desperation), but he refuses to let you leave like this. 

Before you can fully turn away, Jay reaches out and gently grabs your sleeve, tugging you back like you’re his favorite person in the world—which, spoiler again, you totally are. 

“Wait,” he says, pulling you close enough that you bump into his chest. Both his hands find their way to your waist, steadying you with an ease that feels practiced. Like it’s where his hands were always meant to be. 

And that's when Jay knows for sure: he likes you. He likes you bad. Painful highlighters, confusing spreadsheets, and all. He likes the way you carry your stubbornness like a badge of honor. He likes the way you chew on your pen when you're deep in thought. The way you turn his every sarcastic comment into a competition he's somehow thrilled to lose.  

“You forgot something,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low as his eyes search yours, then your lips, then your entire face.  

Your heart stumbles, your brain short-circuits, and you’re pretty sure your face is now the color of a stop sign. 

“Oh, uh, the jacket?” you stammer, looking down at where he grabbed your sleeve, grasping for any logical explanation. “You’re right. Sorry, I almost—” 

But before you can finish, Jay does something both incredibly bold and incredibly reckless. He leans in and presses his lips to yours. 

For a moment, you freeze. This isn’t real. Is this an alternate universe where Jay kisses you instead of just driving you insane? 

But then, the realization sinks in—Jay is kissing you. Like, actually kissing you. And wow. 

The first touch of his lips sends a rush through your entire body, like every nerve has suddenly woken up all at once. He’s hesitant at first, almost like he’s giving you the chance to pull away, but when you don’t—when you finally let go of all the confusion, overthinking, and denial—you lean into him, your hands both instinctively reaching up, gripping the fabric of his shirt to ground yourself as you kiss him back, now realizing how much you desperately wanted this.  

And that’s all the encouragement Jay needs.  

His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his fingers brushing the hem of the jacket you’re wearing—his jacket, you remember with a strange, fluttering thrill. The kiss deepens, gentle but insistent, a slow, breathtaking unraveling of all the tension that’s been simmering between you for weeks. 

It’s like the air shifts around you, the space between you collapsing into nothing. You feel his breath, warm against your skin, and the faintest hitch in it when your hand moves up to lightly curl against the back of his neck. 

He’s so close, and everything about this moment feels right—his familiar scent, the steady warmth of his hands on your waist, the way he tilts his head slightly to meet yours like he’s memorizing the shape of you. 

Your heart pounds, the world spinning just a little too fast and too slow all at once. It’s electric, and dizzying, and somehow everything and nothing like you imagined (because, yes, you’ve imagined it—so what?). 

Jay pulls back just slightly, his forehead brushing yours as he grins, his voice a playful mumble against your lips, not wanting to break the kiss, “You can keep the jacket.” 

Your laugh bubbles out before you can stop it, your forehead dropping to his shoulder as you clutch at his arms for balance.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” 

“I’m a multi-tasker,” he replies, deadpan, his lips turning into a teasing smirk as he leans in and steals another quick kiss. He starts to pull back again, but you don't let him—your hand catches his sleeve as you dart up and chase his lips for one more peck, light and fleeting, but enough to make him smile like a fool.

You're completely, utterly, hopelessly obsessed with him.  

"Besides," he adds, the words smug as his arms tighten around you, "I've already sacrificed my jacket. Might as well give up my dignity too."  

You roll your eyes, “You’re still an idiot.” 

“And yet, I’m the idiot you kissed back,” Jay fires back, brushing a strand of hair from your face.  

You shake your head, your voice soft and teasing, “You’re so—” 

The words trail off as you meet his gaze again, and before you can even think about stopping yourself, you tilt your head up, close the remaining distance between you, and kiss him first this time.  

Jay freezes for a second, caught off guard, before he fully melts into the kiss again, one hand instinctively curling around your waist to keep you as close as possible. There's no hesitation now, no teasing, no holding back—just the two of you in the quiet of his doorway, and the overwhelming certainty that neither of you wants to let this—this moment, this feeling—to end. 

When you finally pull back, Jay’s eyes are sparkling, his gaze holding an undeniable warmth. 

“You know,” he starts, voice light but tinged with something deeper, “if you keep doing that, I might start thinking you actually like me or something.” 

You raise an eyebrow, leaning in just close enough to make him squirm, your smirk playful. 

“And if you keep talking,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing, “I might change my mind.” 

Jay blinks, momentarily stunned, before letting out a breathless laugh, his arms instinctively circling your waist again, pulling you just a little closer.

“Noted. Say less. I’ll shut up forever. You’re stuck with me now.” 

Stuck with Jay? As in a more-than-project-partners kind of way? 

Yeah, you think, meeting the smile he’s giving you. 

You don’t mind that idea one bit. 

Now that the six weeks of parenthood is over, we ask that you write a reflection post in response to your pre-questionnaire answers we asked you at the beginning of the project. Were your expectations met? Exceeded? Any surprises along the way?

Y/N’s Submission [11:15AM, October 30th]:

Parenting, even with a robot baby, turned out to be nothing like I expected. I’ve learned that no matter how much you plan, babies (and life) have a way of completely ignoring your carefully crafted schedules. It was frustrating at times, but it also made things…unexpectedly fun.

Speaking of unexpected—let’s just say my partnership for this project caught me completely off guard, in the best way possible. Turns out, some surprises are worth breaking the plan for :)

Jay’s Submission [11:30AM, October 30th]:

Honestly? I expected surprises, but I wasn’t ready to lose three years of my life over a diaper change—or nearly go deaf from tantrums. Safe to say, I learned the hard way that being a little prepared isn’t such a bad idea.

But here’s the thing: turns out, babies (and certain project partners) have a way of growing on you. Who knew spreadsheets and sleepless nights could actually be…kinda great? I guess what I’m saying is, sometimes the best things aren’t planned. And also, I know how to change a diaper in 30 seconds now. The right side up :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

the end! let me know what you think °ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ°

m. list here!

tag list (tenk u for all the luv): @neozon3nha @duckling-niki @somuchdard @jkslvsnella @jjongstar111

@haechsworld @joieouioui @zl-world @getoxo @onlyjjong

@puma-riki @e-r-i-15 @st4rwon

@jayla240 [ wouldn't let me tag you,,,sorry! i also had to format the tags weirdly to get this to work :') ]

cue all tags now...

[bluebirdsfeathers]

Corporate Life

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader

Summary: The disappointment of not being picked to be Wanda’s intern wasn’t going to stop you from settling into corporate life. Especially since you were assigned to work with her brother, Pietro, and she always found excuses to visit.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: age gap relationship (R is early 20s, W is like 40), no smut here but we might get there later (no promises tho).

A/N: I have an essay due that is less words than this and yet here we are. I’m going to introduce more marvel character each part. I have no idea how many parts this will end up being, but I know how it will end.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

The subway on a weekday morning was something you knew you’d never get used to. Everyone in a rush to get somewhere yet somehow nobody was moving even remotely fast. It was a miracle you’d gotten on a train and not just swept away by a mudslide of office workers. Heading into work you made you was straight to the elevators and back up to the third floor. Today you would be assigned to a department of the paper, and the anticipation was making you nervous. Unlike yesterday you were slightly early and where shocked to find you were the first one there. Taking a seat inside the conference room you were told to meet at, you pulled out your phone and began scrolling Instagram.

“I’ve never understood the obsession with social media,” A unfamiliar voice broke the silence, and you jumped slightly putting your phone down, “My apologies I thought you heard me come in.” Wanda smirked walking towards the other end of the long table, placing down some files, before walking back towards you. “I thought the paper was branching out into social media content?” Your voice came out a little higher than usual. Wanda stopped behind you placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a light squeeze “We are… but that has nothing to do with me.” She said with a laugh before leaving the room.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the interns showed up along with Dr Banner, as he told you to call him, who you’d met yesterday. He looked to be around fifty with greying hair and a permanently sad expression. One of the first things he’d done was list his multiple degrees and explain how he’d ended up working here as an environmental science editor. The Westview Paper was one of the oldest most prestigious news sources in the country, maybe even the world. It had been in the Maximoff family since the 1950s, now being run by Wanda since her father’s retirement. Today you would find out what department you would be interning in for the next six months. Dr Banner handed out an envelope to each intern, rambling on about how pointlessly dramatic this all was and how he had other more important things to do than this. Everyone was quick to open their envelopes, the wait was just too much.

Your file read ‘Sports and Fitness’ in bold at the top. You’d been on the women’s basketball team in college and had spoken about it in your interview, you loved sports so this should be a perfect fit, but you couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed, she hadn’t picked you. “Lads look, I’m Wanda’s intern!” You turn to see Theo, who in this moment you decided you hated, holding up his file to the room looking far too smug. “I guess that proves I’m the alpha here.” You didn’t even entertain him with forced laughter like the others, you simply grabbed your bag and file and left to find a quiet spot to read. You discovered you’d be working for Pietro Maximoff, a quick google search told you that was Wanda’s brother and the head of that department. The file told you everything that would be expected of you over the next few months, some big and small goals as well as a weekly schedule that by the look of didn’t have you meeting with Pietro for a few hours.

To kill time, you decided to have a wonder around the building, the tour yesterday had given you a better understanding of the layout, but you still weren’t confident you could get from a to b without getting a little lost. Round every was another impossibly long corridor lined with doors and window into almost identical rooms that occasionally showed signs of life. As you rounded what must have been the fifth corner you saw a now familiar red head seemingly yelling at a room of men in suits. You stopped walking unsure whether to turn back or keep going like you hadn’t seen anything but before you could react the door to the room opened and the men hurried out, their heads held low like children after being told off. Your eyes went back to the room where Wanda stood, eyes closed, taking several slow deep breaths. Deciding it would be best to leave before you stumble upon something else you weren’t meant to see you turned around only to be stopped by Wanda calling your name.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” It was hard to read her tone, and a pit formed in your stomach worried you’d upset her. “I was just… familiarising myself with the building. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.” You stumbled all over your words. “I should go I need to meet Pietro soon and I…” Wanda’s eyes lit up and a smile graced her face “Of course you’re his intern, why don’t I walk you?” You tried to politely refuse her offer, not wanting to be a bother, but she out right refused to take no for an answer, especially after you let it slip you didn’t know where his office was. Turns out it wasn’t far, one floor down and across the walkway and you where there.

The sports department was unlike the other places you been shown so far. It was lively with open plan desks, no cubicles or grey walls, instead hanging around the room was a variety of different countries flags and sports team memorabilia. The staff talked freely amongst themselves; you expected the noise to die down when Wanda entered but it didn’t. You watched her talk with them and share a joke or two, a stark contrast to the rage you’d seen her display moments ago. “Now where is he?” She asked the man she’d been talking to.

“Wanda!” You heard an excited voice call from across the room, “Wands! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about this side of the building. We’re still being published right?” Pietro’s smile was the same as Wanda’s, warm with a slight hint of mischief. He was much taller than her, with bleach blonde hair and light stubble. “This must be y/n? Great to finally put a face to the name.” He said giving you a playful tap to the arm. “Look Wands I would love to catch up, but I need to get y/n settled.”

“Actually, there is something I need to talk to you about, but we need to discuss that in private. Can I steel you at some point tomorrow?”

“Yeah sure, you have my schedule so let me know when you are free.”

With that Wanda gave you both a smile and left.

Pietro made fast work of the power point he has prepared, and you were glad to hear business wear wasn’t mandatory in his department. Which was a relief as you only had two formal shirts and you’d already worn both. He sent you home early after reassuring you the missing hours wouldn’t come out of your wages and any disappointment over Wanda not picking you was gone. You were going to really enjoy having him for a boss.

The rest of the week went by quickly, you had so much work to be getting on with and so many people to get to know. Your desk was right by Pietro’s so he could keep an eye on you and help you when you needed it. You looked at the clock, it was quarter to five already, almost time to go home for the weekend. That was something you were excited about. This internship only had you working Monday to Friday, that meant you had the whole weekend to yourself. As you hit save for the last time on what you were working on you heard the door on the far end of the room open and looked up to see Wanda followed closely by Theo.

“Hi, Pietro, this is Theo, Theo this is my brother, Pietro. Y/n, you remember Theo, don’t you?” You nodded and watched as the two men shook hands. Yes, you did remember Theo, how could you forget a man that reminded you of all your high school bullies rolled into one and served with a silver spoon. “What do we owe the pleasure?” Pietro asked playfully.

“Oh, you know, just making the rounds, checking on all the new recruits at the end of the first week.”

“We are? I thought you said you needed to check on something important?” Theo said obliviously and Wanda gave a nervous laugh. “The wellbeing of my employees is important Theo. Now y/n how have you been?” You tried and failed to meet Wanda’s eyes as she gave you her full attention. “Good.” Was all you could squeeze out; you didn’t understand why she still made you so nervous. “He hasn’t been working you too hard has he.” Her voice was light and had the same playful tone as Pietro’s. Finally, you found it in you to look her in face and were surprised to see a slight blush that almost matched your own. “No, he hasn’t.” you said leaving an awkward silence in the air. “Well, we better head off, enjoy your weekend, and I’ll see you Monday.” Without another word Wanda left, Theo once again following closely behind.

It wasn’t long before the excitement and novelty of your new job wore off and all you longed for was the weekend. You’d gotten to know lots more faces around the office, even the lady at the front desk. You learnt her name was Pam and she wasn’t a huge bitch like you initially thought, she was just going through a divorce and her ex-husband, Jerry, was the worst. Somehow, you’d managed to develop a sense of normalcy working in this place. The only thing that kept you on edge were the surprise visits Wanda would do to the department; she was always finding a reason to come down here. Most made sense, like visiting her brother, checking on what stories were being published, but other times it felt like she was going out of her way to poke her head in seemingly just to talk to you, which hadn’t gotten easier yet.

Earlier today, while waiting for a copy of an article she’d tried to start a conversation with you. “I like your t-shirt.” Wanda said as she sat on your desk. “t-thanks, I like your blouse it’s… pink?” You said in return, unsure what to say. “What does it say? Radio head? I didn’t think young people listened to the radio these days.” She said lightly grazing her fingers across your arm. “Oh, Radio Head are a band… like music and stuff.” You shifted awkwardly in your chair, turning back to focus on your work. Pietro returned with the article and Wanda got up and left, giving you a light pat on the back as she walked past you.

The memory of that encounter played on your mind as you got ready to leave work for the day. “Y/n! Hey, I need to head to a meeting, I know you’re about to go home but can you go upstairs to Wanda’s office and drop this off? She needs to approve it before it goes to print.” Pietro handed you the latest copy of the sports news magazine, Wanda was big on seeing the final product physically before it was sent of to print so you agreed to drop it off in her office. She was never there anyway, far too busy to sit down with the election cycle going on. You headed to the lift pressing the very top button to take you all the way to the thirteenth floor, Pietro had given you his ID to get clearance to do so. Once the elevator doors opened, you walked into what looked like a living room, but what was just a very fancy looking wating area. There was a door to the left you assumed to be a bathroom and two large doors straight ahead that must lead to her office. You thought about whether to just leaving the magazine on the coffee table but before you could the large doors swung open.

“I don’t care who his father is! I’ve had enough of him! Who does he think he is anyway selling information to…” Wanda stopped her tirade when she saw you standing there with an expression of shock on your face. “Y/n? What are you doing up here?” She slightly snapped at you.

“Pietro told me to give you this.” You held out the magazine visibly trembling. “I’m sorry Ms Maximoff, I didn’t know you’d be here.” You voice shook slightly as you tried to stay calm while rapidly pressing the elevator button. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m leaving now.” The doors finally opened, and you hurried inside. “Y/n wait I didn’t mean to…” Wanda’s words were cut off by the doors closing as the lift took you back to the second floor. Breathing heavily, you tried to calm yourself down. You should have just dropped of the magazine and gotten out of there. Why must you always get yourself in these types of situations? You hoped it would be a while before you’d next see Wanda, maybe she would have forgotten all about it by then. Realising you were still clutching the magazine; you headed back to the sports department. Placing it on Pietro’s desk, along with his ID, you wrote a post-it note apologising, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed with you. All you could think about on your commute home was how angry Wanda looked over whatever it was she was yelling about. It scared you how she can be so warm and friendly one second then completely switch the next. Sometimes you forgot how rich and powerful she really was.

Once inside your apartment you kicked off your shoe’s and sat down on your mattress now being held up by your nice new bedframe. The money you’d earned from this job was improving your life greatly. You’d bought a new pair of trainers without having to wait for your current ones to be falling apart. If this mistake today ended up costing you your job, you’d never forgive yourself. Taking out your phone you decided to take your mind off things by clearing out some work emails you hadn’t gotten around to today but at the top of your inbox was a new message sent only five minutes ago. It was addressed to all the interns and marked urgent.

The subject read: ‘Meeting tomorrow 9am, Floor: 3 Room: 24B’. A new wave of panic washed over you when you saw it was sent by Wanda.

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

inspired by this post by @wandaslittlehorns

[reidarkholme]

PROLOGUE — synopsis | Owen Taylor, a new professor from your class assigned a thesis project right at the start of semester and due next week. Burdened by the amount of paperworks to do, your only solace is a pack of cigarette and your secret “spot”.

CONTAINS❕: age gap, owen taylor × reader, smoking, forbidden attraction, teacher’s pet, vivid description of matured contents, no use of y/n, erotic fanfiction

WORD COUNT : 3.4k

WARNING❕: MDNI

▫️ AUTHOR’S NOTES : Based on “The Starling Girl” played by Lewis Pullman. This is my first time writing a fanfiction with R18+ contents. English is not my first language, please do understand that there may be ungrammatical errors made. BEST VIEW ON DARK MODE !

other social: @d4rkholme on tiktok — an edit based on this story is posted already on my account, you can check it out. <3

It’s been a hell of a week and I haven’t even finished my thesis yet. I am so piled up with schoolworks that I even forgot what it was like to socialize with people, but I don’t have many friends who I can talk and banter with. So, I just sit here in my room with my laptop and a cigarette on hand to lessen the stress that I’m feeling while working on my paper that I have to pass next week.

I rolled my eyes out of frustration and shut my laptop. I checked the time and it’s already two in the afternoon, I have a class at three.

This professor that I will be attending class on has only been here since the second semester started and just casually gave us a thesis to work on, isn’t he just a bundle of joy? But, I’m not going to deny… He’s kind of attractive compared to other professors I had for the past two years I’ve been here at this school. Tall, maybe he’s about six feet, muscles are perfectly defined and doesn’t look exaggerated, slicked back hair, wears a polo shirt that fits him just fine, smells like… I don’t know what brand he’s using but it’s definitely not cheap. Looking at him from head to toe, he’s the accurate figure of what a man should look like. Not some guy who thinks full of himself while looking like trash and treats people, especially women, as some kind of punching bag.

As soon as I stepped foot in the hallway, I instantly went to my class and sat on an empty chair far from everyone. I don’t want to socialize–I am overstimulated because of this paperwork.

Before I even put my earphones on, he came into the room, “Good afternoon.” His voice was mildly loud and sharp enough to make me roll my eyes once again because of irritation. I only hate him because he gave us paperwork like this, but what else could I do? Throw hands at him? Only if I could, I would.

I didn’t even notice that he caught me eye-rolling at him. “Is there any problem?” He said, looking directly at me while placing his book and papers on the table.

Of course I play dumb. “Me…?” I said. “Yes, you. Who else might I be referring to? You’re the only one who’s sitting there far away from your classmates,” he replied.

I sarcastically replied, “There is, in fact, no problem.” I faked my smile.

He seemed not to be content with my answer, but he just went lecturing about a new lesson for today and added some suggestions to put in our paper just in case we haven’t done it yet. But, did I mention I listened to everything he said? Right. I didn’t, because I was busy studying his figure… I don’t know what’s gotten into my mind but I feel like I’m being slowly pulled to him, like some kind of magnetic force that an equation or anything about science could not even explain. I’m still irritated by him, though.

It’s already five o’clock and his class just finished. Before I could even step outside of the door, he called my name and asked me, “How’s your paper?” Really? Why not ask how I am instead of the paper, I thought. “Going pretty well,’’ I replied. “Good, because that will help you to finish your studies,” he said, as he put his book and papers inside of his crossbody bag.

I nodded and gave him a bitter smile. “Yeah, I know.” I didn’t even wait for him to say anything back and just went outside already.

A cigarette could really be a good use to free myself from stress. I have a perfect spot to smoke after class whenever I feel stressed, which I do every time. It’s been a coping mechanism since I was in high school and I could never seem to get it out of my system.

Without hesitation, I lit my cigarette and covered it with my left hand so the fire won’t be blown by the wind.

After inhaling it three times with my eyes closed while leaning on the brick, I was startled by a familiar voice. “Still got some?”

I turned around and recognized it’s my professor from my class… Owen Taylor. I almost threw away my cigarette when he saw me. “Holy shi–” I paused, “I’m… I’m really sorry, I won’t do this again. Just promise me you won’t tell it to the dean.” I pleaded. I feel embarrassed that I want to be eaten alive right now.

He looks unfazed. “I just said if you still got some but you straight up get worried.” He paused for a second, maintaining eye-contact, “So, are you going to hand me one or not?” He handed out his hand from his pocket.

Still startled from what just happened, I grabbed a pack of my cigarettes in my pocket and handed him one of it.

He puts the cigarette on his lips, but he’s still not lighting it up. “Are you just going to let it be like this or will you light it up for me?” He asked, putting away the cigarette from his lips.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Here.” I said as I handed him my lighter.

He took the lighter from me and lit up his cigarette. Oh, God, I’ve never seen a man who lit up a cigarette effortlessly making it look… I don’t know. Hot? Maybe. But, that’s weird to be fascinated by. He’s my professor and it’s wrong to think of him that way. God forbid a woman who finds anything attractive, especially if it’s acted out by an attractive man, I thought.

There’s a minute of silence before he speaks, “When did you start?” He said as he took a puff.

I instantly understood his question. “Since high school. Just a coping mechanism and not just to be seen as cool by other kids.” I said as I inhaled mine.

“I see.” He nodded.

We didn’t do much talking and just went to finish smoking. We just stand beside each other as we inhale every nicotine we have.

He breaks the silence, “Thank you,” he said. “Yeah, no problem. Just don’t tell anyone from school then we’ll be fine.” I nodded.

He chuckled. “Is that a threat?”

I answered, “No, but if you perceive it that way… Maybe, yes.”

As we were walking away from that “spot” the rain started to pour. Shit, I forgot to bring an umbrella with me, my bag is going to be soaked and my laptop’s inside, I thought as I frowned my brows and looked at the ground getting wet.

He stopped walking and looked at me with concern. “You don’t have an umbrella with you?”

As much as I hate to admit it. “Yeah… I forgot.”

“I have my car with me parked near here, you want a ride?” He offered.

I really wanted to refuse but I am caught with this situation with nothing but his offer. “Okay… sure.” I said as I followed him walking towards his car.

He opened the door for the passenger seat, I didn’t know he’s a gentleman. I thought he was just some kind of teacher to put some stress on his students. Judged him too far, I think.

He closed the car door for me and went to sit on the driver’s seat. I’m too focused on checking my laptop forgetting that I need to put my seatbelt on. “Buckle up, the road’s slippery.” He commanded.

After I buckled up, he started to drive. His attention was too focused on the road so the ride just went silent until the rain started to pour heavily so that he had to idle his car.

“We have to wait for the rain to subside, I can’t risk us getting into an accident,” he said.

I didn’t say anything, I just rested my head on the window beside me, watching and listening to the rain downpour.

Minutes passed by and the rain is still ongoing. When will this end? I need to go home and finish my thesis, I thought.

I noticed him moving from my peripheral vision, he turned the music on.

The mirror’s image tells me it’s home time

But I’m not finished, ‘cause you’re not by my side

And as I arrived I thought I saw you leavin’

Carryin’ your shoes

Decided that once again I was just dreamin’

Of bumpin’ into you

“You listen to Arctic Monkeys?” I asked as he hummed along with the music.

“Hmm, yeah. How ‘bout you? A fan of ‘em?” He asked, turned to look at me after staring at his front windshield for God knows how long.

Now, it's three in the mornin’

And I’m tryna’ change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls

And to my message, you reply

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

“Hi, why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

“Yeah, I am.” I said, as I looked into his eyes. Those eyes… those eyes that could make you crippling your sheets–Oh, oh, no. Enough, I thought. I covered my face with shame.

He looks confused. “What’s wrong?” He frowned his brows.

“Nothing… Just shrugging a thought,” I nervously replied, but I somehow managed to hide my nervousness. If I really did…

“And what those thoughts got something to do with looking at me for too long?” His voice snapped me back to reality and made me realize I stared at him for too long.

Somewhere darker, talkin’ the same shite

I need a partner, (High) well are you out tonight?

It’s harder and harder to get you to listen

More I get through the gears

Incapable of makin’ alright decisions

And having bad ideas

His voice echoed in my ears. “Are you having ideas?”

I gulped, not knowing what to answer. I looked away from him but he cupped my chin with his left hand. The hand that he used to smoke earlier, it still smells marlboro red.

“What ideas…?” I asked weakly.

“You know what,” he said, his voice became deep and raspy.

Now, it’s three in the mornin’

And I’m tryna’ change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls

And to my message, you reply (Message, you reply)

I chuckled shakily. “Are you high?” I asked.

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

(Why’d you only call me when you’re)

His tone seems confused at the same time. “High?”

“Hi, why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

We stared at each other, waiting for one of us to make a move. The tension is palpable inside of his car. I can smell his breath, his perfume, I can see the details of his hair looking soft with a sense of rawness in every strand. The way his eyes blink at the same time as mine. The way my heart pounds at every second his face gets closer with me. I’m not turning away from him which made me question myself. He’s thirty-two years old and I’m only twenty-one. This can’t be happening–I am dreaming but I’m not…

In a flash of two seconds, his lips pressed on mine. I can feel its softness and the way it devours me. I kissed back… I know I shouldn’t, but here I am.

And I can’t see you here, wonder where I might

It sort of feels like I’m runnin’ out of time

Our lips continue to savour every taste, not wasting any saliva. He slides his tongue inside of my mouth. The way our tongues dance with each other is enough to send shivers down my spine. I can feel my entrance getting wet as he touches my left leg with his right hand and his left hand at my nape while making out with me.

His kiss gets deeper and deeper at every second and I fear I might run out of breath. The music still plays while we’re doing an unholy act. What a perfect song for a perfect time.

I haven’t found all I was hopin’ to find

You said you gotta be up in the mornin’

Gonna have an early night

I let out a huge breath after he released his mouth to mine, his lips went down on my neck… A part of my body I considered to be more sensitive than my entrance. I grip his hair signaling for him to suck deeper which he did. This man is going to be the end of me.

And you’re startin’ to bore me, baby

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

He stopped for seconds to pull my shirt up and threw it away at the backseat. I did the same thing with him, I unbuttoned his polo shirt and saw his majestic deliciously carved body. He has the perfect shape I wanted.

“Why’d you only ever phone me when you’re high?”

“Why’d you only ever phone me when you’re high?”

“Why’d you only ever phone me when you’re high?”

“Why’d you only ever phone me when you’re (high)?”

The song stopped, then we realized what we were doing. “Are we going to continue this?” He asked, breathing heavily.

I nodded unhesitatingly. “Are you sure?” He asked again.

As soon as he got the answer which I think he wanted to hear, he scooted over in the backseat. I did the same as well.

I laid down and found myself being dominated by this man. He started to unbuckle his belt and unzipped his pants. I also started to take off my underwear but I still haven’t unhooked my bra. He leaned over me and I can feel his manhood bulging and ready to be released from being caged in his pants.

His breath is hot as fire as he breathes, I can feel it in my ears as he kisses my neck again. His right hand slowly went from holding my hair to going down on my abdomen to tracing my legs using his middle and ring finger, teasing my insides.

I sighed out of frustration at being teased. “Touch me…” I said, breathing shakily.

He seems to not have heard what I said. I grabbed his wrist and put it in my center, started grinding and made it more wet than ever.

“Ohh… Slow down.” He said between the kisses.

He breaks the kisses and rises up. “Unhook your bra.” He commanded.

I arched my brow, teasing him. “Why don’t you unhook my bra?”

He looks at me seriously. “Are you going to follow or not?” He said, voice low and raspy.

I took a little sigh and unhooked my bra. It felt like freedom to remove this thing from me. I’ve never been a fan of wearing a bra, so I only wear a shirt whenever I’m at home.

He leaned back again, but this time, it’s my chest that he’s starting to violate. He sucks my nipples as if there’s no tomorrow. His mouth on my left chest, his left hand on my right. Massaging it slowly.

I can feel the metal of his watch touching my skin, sending shivers to my body. The way his tongue twirls on my nipple makes me crazy like an animal. My thoughts are full of lust. This man is breathtaking.

He paused, sliding down his pants. He stroked his manhood three times before entering my insides. I let out a soft moan, feeling every inch of him in my body.

He started to thrust me slowly at first, giving me time to adjust from his hard length. Every single thrust he makes, I can hear him whimper even though he’s trying not to make any sound.

His hair touches my face, giving me a tickling sensation. I brushed and grip the back of his hair. I put both of my feet behind his waist, holding on to his nape as he goes faster and deeper than he did minutes later.

I can feel my core throbbing and pulsating, like a morse code spelling his name repeatedly—like an echo in my mind.

I gripped his back using my fingers to support the force he’s giving. My nails are long enough to leave claw marks on his skin, leaving trails of my scratches.

He licked his lips and started to explore my mouth again. Sliding his tongue in me, sharing heat and feeding each other’s hunger. His kiss gets deeper and deeper as he thrusts me harder and faster. This is the first time a man has given me this kind of pleasure. This is heaven.

He got up carrying my back with him, still not breaking the kiss. Our bodies shifted, I hovered over him—breathless and wanting more.

I began dancing on his lap, my lips traced a path along his throat, sucking hard like what he did to me.

He groaned. “I—I’m close…” He gasped, chest rising.

“It’s okay… I’m taking birth control pills,” I said, gasping for air.

He shut his eyes, each of my thrusts met me with equal intensity. My hips are bouncing by the way our bodies move together in sync. The atmosphere became more tense and hotter as we felt our climax built with every thrust.

We couldn’t hold back much longer anymore. Our bodies collapse together as we breathe against our skin, bodies trembling.

My head resting against his neck, hands hugging his back. His hands stroked my hair, giving me a sense of comfort.

I lifted my head up and leaned backwards, holding on to the passenger seat behind me, I grabbed my bag.

I put down my bag on his right and started to look for my cigarette. I took one and put it between my lips as I lit it up in front of him.

He watches me smoke and blow it, not minding the suffocating feeling it might cause us. I once again inhaled and held it in for three seconds, I leaned onto him, my lips coaxing his mouth open as I exhaled into his.

He grabbed the cigarette from my fingers and inhaled deeply, not breaking an eye-contact.

“You’re good, huh?” His voice, dark and smooth.

I smirked. “And you’re bold,” I replied. I snatched my bag beside him and looked for gum, still not leaving from our position. I peeled the packaging and started to chew.

He frowned his brows slightly. “Are you chewing gum?”

I let out a small smile. “No,” I replied, sarcastically.

“Spit it out.” He demanded.

I stared at him, not doing what he requested. I just started to chew this tasteful gum, there’s no way I’ll throw it away this soon, I thought.

He handed out his other hand close to my mouth, signaling me to spit it out. He looked down at his hand, then he met my gaze again and he slightly arched both of his brows.

I gave him a confused reaction because I can’t understand why he wants me to spit this out, maybe he’s irritated by the sound it makes? I don’t know.

“Spit it out and I’ll give you a high grade on your paper,” he added.

Without a further thought, I spat out my gum. I’d rather waste a gum than waste my grades.

“There you go,” I said, looking at the gum I just sacrificed for a grade. But, whatever.

“We should go, the rain just stopped pouring. I’ll drive you home.” I nodded. I got off of his lap and we picked up our clothes and wore them like nothing happened. I opened the car door beside me and went outside to go back to the passenger seat. He did the same thing and went back to the driver’s seat.

He started to drive and focuses on driving. I broke the silence, “So… what are we going to do now?” I asked.

His left hand on the steering wheel, while his right hand squeezed my thigh, still not breaking his attention from the road. “Meet me at my office tomorrow. I’m going to give you something,” he replied.

I just nodded and let him continue driving until I reached home. It only took me five seconds before I reached for his face, giving him a kiss. I went outside of his car and watched him drive away.

▪️ AUTHOR’S NOTES : DO NOT STEAL❕

[kayleigh-83]

Hobbies and sub-hobbies

I've been working on implementing a sub-hobby system in my game recently and really enjoying it! I took a look at the different activities available for different hobbies and came up with my list, which I thought I'd share here.

I do have some mods that change the hobby enthusiasm of some objects, or add new ones - I'll link where applicable.

I don't assign these based on any system, just vibes. I usually stick with whatever hobby the game assigns, but I do sometimes change them if it really feels like it doesn't fit to me. The sub-hobbies are intended to be a main focus, but Sims can and will still try other aspects of their overall hobby, and other hobbies altogether sometimes too!

The list is a work in progress but I'm basically happy with it now.

Edit: I found a version of the punching bag that gives fitness enthusiasm instead of sports, and that activity makes more sense to me as a fitness thing, so I moved that sub-hobby over.

Edit 2: Combined a couple gaming subhobbies into "Social Games" and added MyShuno to that category.

Edit 3: Combined sewing and knitting into Fibre Arts under Arts & Crafts hobbies.

Edit 4: Added candlemaking to the Arts & Crafts category.

Cuisine

Cooking

Baking

Wine & Cocktails

Foodie (restaurants, delivery)

Films & Literature

Reading

Writing (helpful but not necessary to also have this mod)

Movies

Tinkering

Restoring & Repairing (restorable car, general repairs, plus drafting blueprints thanks to a mod)

Woodworking (here and here)

Tinker Toys (RC cars, model trains, toy workbench)

Sports

Soccer

Basketball

Sports Fan (watching sports)

Golf (Execuputter reward object made buyable)

Baseball

Football

Music & Dance

Dancing

Ballet

Piano/Keyboard

Synthesizer

Violin

Singing

Guitar

Bass

Drums

Fitness

Swimming

Lifting & Cardio

Yoga

Boxing (with modded hanging bag from here - unlocked buyable punching bag still gives sports hobby, but it seems more like a fitness thing to me as a solo activity)

Arts & Crafts

Painting

Pottery

Photography (hugely aided by the buyable antique camera and Epi and PF's camera overhaul mod)

Fibre Arts (sewing, knitting with Eisbaer's edit of TonyVeis' 4t2 mod)

Candlemaking

Science

Stargazing/Aliens

Biotech (buyable Biotech station and microscopes with science enthusiasm added)

Robotics (this mod makes robotics science related which makes far more sense to me)

Games

Video Games (console, handheld, computer, arcade games)

Board Games (chess, Don't Wake the Llama, mahjong)

Social Games (darts, poker, pool, bowling, MyShuno)

Nature

Entomology (hunting bugs, catching fireflies and butterflies)

Animals (small pets like womrats, birds, koi fish, bird watching)

Gardening (harvestable crops, orchard trees - I play with perfect plants mod so they don't have to maintain flowers and shrubs)

Outdoorsy (fishing, hiking, camping, cloud watching)

Flower Arranging (this mod changes the enthusiasm on the flower bench to nature)

[strwberri-milk]

hii! i love your writing, hope you are doing well ♡

could i request a headcanon on how could the lads boys be like with a reader that asks for their help with their assignment on a college AU? tyy!

Zayne, Sylus and Xavier are all good with STEM. Zayne is best with anything biology, medicine, or chemistry related (of course) but is also good at most things in general so he's able to help you with some social sciences or non-visual arts (unless you need a diagram drawn). He's also great at helping you organise your day to keep you on track with getting your work done. I personally headcanon that he used to tutor or help his classmates with assignments so he's pretty good at explaining complex topics.

Xavier is better with coding and physics and stuff like that. He's more disorganised than Zayne is but at least if you need his help he's going to be able to help. He kinda sucks at explaining things though so you'd have to ask him to re explain it a bunch of times. He just doesn't seem to understand when he uses terms that are too complicated because he just assumes you already know what he's talking about.

Sylus knows a lot and is okay with helping you as well but he also isn't the best person to explain. He does try a bunch of different ways to explain to you and you'll get it eventually. He has a lot of patience for you so that helps. He is a lot better with math and coding, but he has enough of a knowledge base to at least point you in the right direction if you're not asking something math related. He also has no problem just finding someone who can tutor you and help you get your work done.

Rafayel is pretty smart and has a lot of general knowledge but if you need help for classes his strengths are going to be visual and performing arts, some art history in certain time periods, and sometimes literature. It really just depends on how much he likes something to know what his knowledge base is. He's good enough at teaching application (ex. how to paint, sing, etc.) but theory is kinda hard to get with him because he just goes off of vibes a lot of the time.

His theoretical knowledge isn't lacking just...hard to comprehend. His esoteric way of teaching is fine when he's showing you how to do something because you can at least watch or see what he's trying to get at. Let's just hope you need help with definitive questions or painting as opposed to philosophy or literary theory.

[hellothetutorshelp-blog]

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[kr-starz]

Modern Highschool Arcane AU headcanons !!

(Vi & Jinx)

Jinx and Vi are still teenagers, their age gap would be like 3 years in this AU, so when it's Jinx's freshman year Vi's already a Senior.

People were genuinely surprised finding out the little chaotic science geek and the sports-minded athlete were SISTERS since they were so different friend group and personality wise.

(Cait & Vi)

Vi is a jock! She does winter wrestling and she's the best in her weight group. She's also involved in fall and spring sports. Baseball and football are her other seasonal sports.

People know Vi to be just a sports junkie, she has pretty good grades but nothing exceptional.

She's not so great at science , which forces her to be tutored.

Vi and Cait met in their sophomore year, she needed some help improving her grade in order to be eligible for the spring season sports since she was failing history at the time, so Caits assigned to help her out.

Caitlyn’s a goody two shoes icl, like she’s apart of the student council and her mom’s the superintendent. She’s in ROTC and she’s so very loud about it, she’s basically the FACE of the program.

Cait and Vi get close because Vi keeps seeing Caitlyn around and she’s become sort of a hallway crush, but with her fuckboy attitude Vi tries to flirt the second she realizes that she’s somehow managed to get Caitlyn as her tutor!

Cait is used to people flirting with her, she usually brushes it off since she’s a man magnet. Vi on the other hand, is weirdly making her flustered? It’s strange, really.

Cait and Vi start getting closer and eventually start dating the year after.

(Ekko & Jinx)

Ekko and Jinx are the same age but Ekko's older by a few months so he brags about it.

Ekko D&D nerd. He dragged Jinx into it, she only complied since Ekko asked so nicely (he threatened her kindly)

Jinx isn’t into extracurriculars, did track in middle school so she’s exceptionally fast and she’s in the track and field team in high school but she skips practice A LOT but the coach lowkey needs her so she doesn’t get punished.

Jinx has straight A’s but she skips classes and has days where she just can’t attend class so she does some of her work online (it’s like 70/30) in person-online; she has accommodations in her 504 plan that lets her listen to music all the time and lets her leave class whenever.

Jinx is just a nickname that was given to her while she was a kid since every sports team she cheered for ended up losing (she only ever went since she wanted to see what Vi was up to) and she was Jinxing every game which DID hurt her feelings when she was like 6 but now it’s kind of funny since she doesn’t care for sports.

She’s slightly uncomfortable letting random people call her Powder now since she introduces herself as Jinx, only her closer friends call her Powder.

She no longer Jinxes games now though but it was funny while it lasted.

Ekko and Jinx have this weird rivalry-friendship-situationship where they ARE childhood best friends who back each other up but they refuse to pair up together when working on projects since they wanna see who can get better grades or impress more people.

Ekko and Jinx is like “the boy/girl next door” trope since they’ve been casually hanging just whenever since they were little itty bitty kids. So people kind of know Jinx as “that girl friend he’s always around” and Ekko as “that boy friend Jinx is always around” to their respective classmates and acquaintances.

Ekko and Jinx used to get the “wait you guys aren’t dating” comment at least once a month. (They’re not dating just yet)

Ekko is in the art club and has never considered doing a sport (Ice hockey has intrigued him more and more every year though) and he’s in a bunch of clubs to compensate. He established the D&D club, being in a little “green thumb” club for plant parents, afterschool computer-science club which is run by Viktor and Jayce. He’s got a pretty decent variety of friends because of it and larger social circle. He’s known to be this friendly little nerdy guy and people either love him or think he’s weird.

When Ekko doesn’t have extracurriculars to focus on he’s out practicing new skate tricks,

Ekko is the plant dad of the CENTURY, he has like 20 plants in his room, he’s nurturing a garden in his backyard and he has the prettiest bushels of flowers in the house. He’s got the greenest of thumbs.

Jinx has a black thumb and kills every plant in a 20 mile radius. No but seriously, when Ekko tried giving Jinx a plant to take care of as an attempt to bond, it DIED within a week. (She drowned it) and when he gave her an easier plant to take care of, she fed the thing rubbing alcohol and didn’t notice until it was DEAD.

Ekko asks Jinx to Hoco, that’s when they started dating. Everyone calls it like “oh my god finally” “you weren’t dating before?” Etc. it’s really cute but there’s minimal changes!! They just start like, kissing or something.

[helpmyassignment028]

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[prettieinpink]

Being that girl once again- back to school!

It’s back to school season everyone, and my favourite times of the year. In this post im going to give you stuff to do for back to school + advice in specific areas of your school life! I hope everyone can take away something from this post <3 

THINGS TO DO BEFORE BACK TO SCHOOL <3

Revise your past term content in your core subjects, ensure there’s nothing you do not understand(it’s better to understand now than have to understand later)

Review what you are going to be learning for this current term in your core subject, you don’t have to study it, just familiarise yourself. 

Catch up with your friends- hang out, call or text before the new school term. My favourite thing is to create predictions of drama, couples etc in the upcoming term w my girlies!

Create SMART goals for you to achieve that term, in any aspect you want. I say; 1 goal for academics, 1 goal for social and 1 goal for extracurriculars/sports. 

Clean your room !! do a deep clean and declutter. E.g wipe down all surfaces, hover pillows, vacuum floor, clean mirrors, take out any clothes you dislike

Do an everything shower + face masks!!

ACADEMICALLY

Everyday afterschool, revise everything that you’ve learnt today + the things that you struggle on

Anytime you get homework, complete it as soon as possible. Most of the time, it’s easy and non time consuming. 

Create study guides for exams/tests while actually learning instead of when the assessments are actually coming up. It saves you a lot of time, which you can use for studying effectively.

If you don’t already, have a specific learning/studying style that works for you. E.g flashcards, blurting, mind map, spaced repetition, the feynman technique. (ofc you can have multiple). Just know the pros and cons of each studying technique. 

Or, what I do is that I assign specific studying techniques to different subjects e.g science - blurting, HASS - flashcards, maths - the feynman technique. This may be different to what you have the most success learning.

Have a place, time every day or at least most days, where you can study without distractions. I like to study at the library afterschool, it’s chill and literally void of any distractions.

The only advice in which i’ll say is not optional– do practise questions under the said test conditions. Stop using websites, listening to music, being on your phone etc. Get in the zone and transfer the environment. 

SOCIALLY

Make an effort to say hi or goodbye to some people, even if you do not know them that well. If you’re up for it, ask them how they are going or how their day has been.

Start remembering names and birthdays. This will literally make people like you so much more, it’s so simple but people swoon over this. Process names in your mind and write down birthdays in your calendar. 

Don’t be afraid to talk to others. Most people do not care if you talk to them, and some are glad that you talk to them. This is how people become well-known or well-liked. 

Watch videos on how to converse with people you do not know well effectively and become close with them. TED x has a lot of videos on this, and are usually helpful. 

Don’t try to fit in with the crowd. It’s so draining, and even if you think they do, they most likely dislike you(sorry!) . Instead, find/be with your people. 

Join a club/extracurricular. You meet so many like-minded people this way, while still developing your own skills. I say everyone should at least have one solid extracurricular. 

If you are in a talking stage, three weeks is enough time for him or you to decide if you’re willing to date them. It’s not the 1920s anymore, we have imessages, facetime, skype and others to communicate and get to know each other without contact

Call out your friends if you notice them doing something toxic or generally anything they shouldn’t do. E.g gossiping, getting mad at others, bullying someone. If they continue, it will influence you in the long run.

MENTALLY 

Reframe your mindset. I know most of us do not favour school, but do not dwell on negativity and find ways to be positive/neutral about your circumstances. You’ll feel so much better.

Detach. Detachment is literally essential in highschool, there’s so much drama and most likely you will somehow get tied up in it. Stop absorbing what happens and let it influence you, observe what happens and learn from it. I have a post on this here. 

Start saying affirmations everyday. I know affs are usually viewed as a manifestation thing, but it doesn’t have to be. It can be a simple one minute way to cultivate a neutral/positive perspective of yourself. 

Journal. Things will happen, so journaling is a great way to discuss your circumstances, feelings, trauma, relationships etc and develop a sense of identity at the same time. I have a post on this here. 

Meditate. It can be go-go-go constantly, but just take a break and gain some mental clarity and see how much better you feel decluttering your mind. 

Embrace a change and growth mindset, especially in an environment where we are constantly required to adapt. 

PHYSICALLY

Start stretching.. seriously. You sit at a desk for like 5 hours a day excluding lunch and recess, everyday, which is of course going to do a number on your body. It can relieve pain in many different areas.

Have at least 1 form of exercise you do everyday. I know being students, we have to sit at a desk constantly. But, do not give up on practising good exercise habits. Not only can it help with results, it’s good for you.

Get the recommended sleep of 6-8 hours per night, which is good quality sleep without disruptions. It helps with long term memory and you’ll feel better. 

Start packing healthy but tasty lunches to school instead of buying. You’ll save so much money in the long run, and it’s better for your body. 

BEAUTY 

Get your uniforms tailored just a bit. Not too noticeable, but enough that it fits better on your body. Especially for button formal shirts, as they make you look 10 times as bulky than what you actually are. 

Buy new jewellery, earrings, necklaces or whatever you’re allowed. Subtle but noticeable jewellery makes girls look so pretty.

Learn new hairstyles!! Don’t just wear the same hair everyday, mix it up, it’s fun and makes you look attractive. 

Get a good eyebrow gel + clear mascara. Legit life changer, I look so much better everyday because I look put together without make up.

apply  vaseline on areas you would apply highlight, but avoid your eye area. 

Have a good skincare regime!! Being a student is stressful, getting pimples is a sign of stress. 

Okay that's it. Happy back to school everyone! Here’s an affirmation for you <3

I am intelligent and capable. I am skilled and confident in my abilities. I am perceived well by others. I am healthy. I am wealthy. I am looking for this term to be full of good grades, vibes, friends, growth and fun. 

[literaryvein-reblogs]

What are your thoughts on names in general? Be it names of a place, a character, a thing, etc....

How would you name a character?

How to Name Your Characters

Some authors have an easy time concocting a new character for their stories, but they have a harder time generating new names to give such a character. Here are some writing tips to get your creative juices flowing, help you source different names, and make sure each name fits with the character you’ve created:

Consult the phone book. Grab a random name from the phone book to get yourself started. Then feel free to tweak the real name you find to make it better match your character’s personality. Did you pull up the name Vickie Malone? If you’re developing a character proud of her social status, why not change the name to Vivien Malone?

Grab a baby name book. Baby name books can be found in bookstores, libraries, and online. If they’re good enough for naming a real-life family member, surely they can be good enough for fiction writers seeking the perfect male or female names.

Use a random name generator. The internet is full of character name generator websites. A simple search will bring up a slew of these and get you on your way to choosing a useful list of names to pick from. You can even use a specialized name generator, like a fantasy name generator, to help you pick a genre-appropriate unusual name.

Pay homage to famous names from a book or movie. Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery, so if you want to pay your respect to a bestselling author or screenwriter, find a way to incorporate part of one of their best character names into your own work. This particularly works if you’re writing in the same genre—such as science fiction or superhero comics—as the author to whom you’re paying homage. You can even name a character after an author.

Make use of root meanings. A name meaning can derive from its cultural roots—including Latin, Greek, Sanskrit, or any cultural background. If you research the ancient meanings of certain names, you might be able to seed ideas about your characters in readers’ heads. For instance, the Welsh god of the sea is named Dylan, so this might be a good character name for a mariner. The word linda means “beautiful” in Spanish, so it may be apt to name a gorgeous female character Linda.

Don’t get hung up on finding the perfect name. Ultimately, audiences care far more about a character’s arc and three-dimensionality than their specific name. If you audition different names but find you’re unable to find one you truly like, insert a placeholder and keep writing. You can come back later and brainstorm similar names, or you can just let the placeholder become the final name for your character. At the end of the day, that name choice will not save or sink your manuscript; it will be a small part of a cohesive whole product.

Characteristics of a Good Character Name

There is no fixed formula for giving your characters a great name, but a memorable and interesting name will tend to have the following qualities:

It makes sense in context. A good character name is appropriate for the location and time period of your novel, short story, play, movie, or TV show.

It fits with the genre of your piece. For instance, the name Darth Vader might be the perfect name for a sci-fi villain, but would not fit a real-life drama set in rural Nebraska.

It is unique. Try to avoid evoking popular names from other works of fiction. Note, however, that some authors select similar names for effect, the way that George R.R. Martin’s Samwell Tarley seems to intentionally evoke the fantasy name Samwise Gamgee from J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. Even Martin’s own name, with its double initials, seems to pay homage to Tolkien.

It is appropriate for a character’s role in the narrative. The audience may be able to surmise a certain type of character by simply reading or hearing their name. Shakespeare was a master of this, assigning whimsical sounding names to jesters (i.e. Sir Toby Belch in Twelfth Night), unique singular names for a main character (i.e. Hamlet, Othello, and Prospero), and common names to common characters (i.e. John Bottom and Francis Flute in A Midsummer Night’s Dream).

It’s memorable without being distracting. Readers of Vladimir Nabakov’s Lolita could behold the unusual name of Humbert Humbert and know that they were dealing with a less-than-trustworthy character, yet Mr. Humbert’s odd name does not provide such distraction that a reader cannot focus on plot, backstory, and character development.

The Importance of Character Names

Character name meaning varies from text to text.

Some novelists imbue a name with symbolic meaning that indicates a particular type of character.

The 19th century American writer Nathaniel Hawthorne was known to use names to foreshadow character traits.

Examples: the foolish, hypocritical Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale in The Scarlet Letter and the titular character from the short story Young Goodman Brown, who represents a Puritanical mindset emblematic of a particular time period.

Other authors give less heed to symbolism when selecting the right name, but they nonetheless use names to offer clues about a character’s social status, nationality, and family heritage.

In his epic novel War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy used character naming to differentiate between different classes of people within Russia’s complicated semi-caste system, from simple peasants to the aristocracy to military leaders.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Found this article that put it into words better than I can. Choosing the right names of places, characters, and even things in your story serve so many important purposes for worldbuilding, development of plot & characters... Ideally, we want something that would stick with the readers, and fits well with the story as a whole. You could look back on classic literature/films, or your favourite pieces of media, and you'll likely find that names of characters and places are well chosen, and usually are memorable or even "catchy". We could always learn a lot from the classics and our favourite authors. Also, some writers find using templates helpful, here's one you could try: Naming your Character Worksheet

[tessenpai]

Kono Oto Tomare! Chapter 143 Scans and Rough TL

Disclaimer: Please DO NOT use this translation to make your own TL of the chapter!! The KOT TL group works very hard to give you the most accurate translation, that does as much justice to the original script as possible. This is a ROUGH translation. That means is faulty and there must be mistakes in certain places. This is just for impatient people like myself to get a grasp on what is going on in the chapter! You can REFERENCE my TL if you want to discuss the chapter but never USE it as it was your own.

Scans (Use Adblocker): Kono Oto Tomare - 143 RAWs

Page 1 Chapter Title: Blue determination Tsukaji: … Judges Panel Page:

Koto Performer: Agata Kouzo

Hokkaido Music University: Kurokawa Yoshie

Composer: Tatsumi Yukito

Shakuhachi Performer: Nanba Yoshihisa(?)

Music Critic: Iwagaki Keiko(?)

Komaki: Tsukaji-san~!

Komaki: The social gathering is about to start—

Tsukaji: That so.

Tsurugi: Is something wrong? You were staring at that program with such a serious face.

Page 2

Tsukaji: Ahh, no. I was just thinking how tough must judging be…

Tsurugi: Ahh— That’s true.

Komaki: The judges are totally at odds with each other, right?

Tsukaji: Well, there’s also that but… I think the main problem is how high the level of the performances were this time.

Tsukaji: If there was a clear difference between the performance’s skill levels, even if the judges were to have clashing opinions, it wouldn’t lead to conflict… but this time..

Tsukaji: Truly… This turned out to a be quite a problem…

Page 3

Judge Nanba(?): If there had been a clear difference in the scores, it would’ve been fairly easy to move the discussion along.

Judge Kurokawa: This is surprising. Well, it is understandable, though.

Judge Iwagaki(?): Yeah… But to think—

Judge Iwagaki(?): We have 3-way tie for the highest score…

Judge Tatsumi: …

Judge Agata: There’s nothing we can do about that.

Page 4

Judge Agata: When it comes to these three schools, there was nothing we could deduct points from.

Judge Agata: Fundamentals, expressiveness, artistry, difficulty, harmony… All of it was outstanding.

Judge Agata: From this point on, it’s about how we assign extra points.

Judge Agata: This will be a difficult evaluation.

Judge Agata: …Let’s thoroughly discuss this.

Judge Agata: Those performances deserve us to face them with our full dedication.

Judge Tatsumi: -----….

Page 5

Judge Tatsumi: That’s right…

Program:

Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology Award – 1st Place

Agency of Cultural Affairs Awars – 2nd to 4th Place.

Excellence Award: 5th to 8th Place

Cultural Federation Award – All participating schools

[1st to 4th Place qualify for the Outstanding Tokyo Public Performance.]

Chika: Ministr… Minister’s Award…?

Sane: It says “Ministry” right? Ministry’s award.

Kota: What an impressive name~ What kind of award is that?

Takezou: That’s the award the winner of the National Cultural Festival Competition receives.

3-baka: …What-?

Kota: Woah, that’s so cool—!

Natsu: Why don’t you know the name of the award you’ve been aiming for all this time…?

3-baka: !!

Sane: Shup up! No matter the name, 1st place it’s 1st place.

Chika: Did you know about this, Momoya!

Natsu: Yes.

Mittsu: Eh?

Chika: ----~ A- Anyway, “Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology Award”!

Chika: If they call us after saying this, that means we won 1st place!!

Takezou: ---Yeah.

Page 6

Program: 1st to 4th Place qualify for the Outstanding Tokyo Public Performance.

Chika: Hey, what’s this written here---?

Takezou: !

MC 1: Hello, everyone!

MC 2: We’re now going to begin the social gathering!

Chika: Oooh.

MC 1: The schools gave us such wonderful performances!

MC 1: Even while we were helping with the event, we found ourselves completely drawn in!

MC 2: Yeah, we did.

MC 1: Should we take a little break here then

MC 2: Sounds good!

Page 7

MC 1: We thought we'd take this opportunity to introduce Hokkaido to you.

MC 2: By doing a Hokkaido Quiz!

Mittsu: Oooh, so this is a social gathering.

Sane: I thought it was about “socializing” with the other schools

Kota: I like quizzes—

MC: Then, 1st question

MC: What do people in Hokkaido mean when they say “Zangi”*—?

MC: Clap if you think it’s #3!

Kota: It’s definitely 3!

Page 8

*No text*

Page 9

Judge Tatsumi: -------…

Page 10

Judge Agata: With this, we are in agreement with this final decision.

Judge Agata: …I’ve been a judge for many different competitions, but… I didn’t expect something like this to happen.

Judge Agata: Today I also learned a lot.

Page 11

Judge Agata: Let us go, then.

MC 1: That concludes this social gathering!

MC 1: Did you have a good time?

MC 2: Next year’s event will be in Kyoto!

MC 2: Let’s meet again there next year!

Chika [thoughts]: Next year…

Page 12

*No text*

Page 13

MC: We will be taking a 10 minute break now. After that we will begin with the closing ceremony—

Mittsu: Uoooh here it is… The closing ceremony… Which means…

Sane: Results announcement…

Kota: Woah, amazing. My hands are getting cold again—

Hiro: Oh man. My heart is pounding. My hands are shaking—

Takezou: …Wanna hold hands?

Page 14

Hiro: Ah… Eh…!?

Takezou: Ah, um… You often see people holding hands when waiting for an announcement…

Takezou: If you don’t want to

Takezou: Then…

3-baka: grab

Natsu: Woah, are you serious?

Atsumu: grabs

Page 15

Kota: Momoyan’s hand transmits so much calm—

Natsu: What does that even mean?

Natsu: Wait, let go of m…

Natsu: Huh? How are you so strong…?

Chika & Satowa: ………………….

Chika: Hm.

Page 16

Akira: Fufu Ahh, youth.

Suzuka: Ha ha ha.

Akira: ……

Akira: Could it be that you are also nervous, Takinami-sensei?

Suzuka: Eh?

Akira. After the preliminaries, you said you’d been covered in cold sweat.

Suzuka: Ah—…

Suzuka: For now, I want to have a full night of sleep tonight.

Page 17

MC: Thank you all very much for waiting.

MC: We will now begin the closing ceremony of the National High School Cultural Festival, Japanese Music Division.

MC: First, the Judge Agata Kouzou-sensei will address the overall assessment of the competition.

Page 18

Judge Agata: Yes. I want to thank you all for participating in this competition over the last two days.

Judge Agata: Before I announce the winners, please allow me to say one thing.

Judge Agata: I truly thank you for allowing us to hear such wonderful performances.

Judge Agata: Both technically and musically, this year’s level was incredibly high.

Judge Agata: Us judges unanimously agreed on that.

Page 19

Judge Agata: “To these marvelous sounds”

Judge Agata: “I do not want to do something as meaningless as giving out points”

Judge Agata: “I do not want to rank them”

Judge Agata: I’m truly thankful that you made us feel that way.

Judge Agata: And so, “What is music?”

Page 20

Judge Agata: To this question with no clear right answer…

Judge Agata: Even us judges had differing thoughts about this question

Judge Agata: We got to hear so many colorful and vibrant answers.

Judge Agata: Since this is a competition, we had to assign rankings…

Judge Agata: But we judges want to express our heartfelt respect for every performance.

Page 21

Judge: Without further ado, I’ll begin with the awards announcement.

Page 22

Judge: Beginning with the Excellence Awards, I will announce the 5th to 8th ranked schools.

Akari [thoughts]: 5th to 8th…

Akari [thoughts]: My bridge fell, so it might be out of the question.

Judge Agata: In 8th place.

Judge Agata: Tokushima Prefecture, Tokushima City, Minamikawa High School.

Page 23

Judge Agata: In 7th place, Shizuoka Prefecture, Fukumori High School

Fukumori students: No way, seriously!?

Fukumori students: We did it!!

Fukumori students: Amazing, amazing!!

Judge Agata: In 6th place

Judge Agata: Ibaraki prefecture, Ibaraki Prefectural, Eidai Affiliated High School

Akari: ...Eh?

Akari [thoughts]: 6th place!?

Akari: Senpa...

Page 24

*No text*

Page 25

Judge Iwagaki(?): But my, Eidai was impressive.

Judge Iwagaki(?): Even with so few members, their presence rivaled that of the other schools.

Judge Iwagaki(?): There was a mistake when the pillar fell, but how they recovered from that point on... I personally rated that highly.

Judge Nanba(?): I feel the same way. With just three people, it wouldn't have been strange if the performance had collapsed from there.

Judge Nanba(?): The other two supported him firmly, and the kid who had the mistake handled the situation very calmly.

Judge Tatsumi: It was made evident they've build a relationship of complete trust through endless practice.

Judge Tatsumi: Their recovery was impressive, and the performance after that was so strong and vibrant. It was delightful.

Page 26

Judge Agata: The brilliance of that performance, went above the mistakes.

Page 27

Akari's friends: Akari!! That's amazing!!

Akari's friends: You're 6th!! 6th in the nation!! That's incredible!!!

Akari: Ye... Yeah...

Judge Agata: In 5th place, Saitama Prefecture----

Akari [thoughts]: But

Akari [thoughts]: If I handn't made a mistake, then we would've ranked highe--

Sen-chan: Akari!

Page 28

Haru & Sen-chan: We did it!!

Page 29

Sen-chan: Oh, come on, are you crying of happiness~~!? You're such a crybaby!

Akari[thoughts]: The expression I saw for one moment in the faces of Miya-senpai and Haru-senpai

Page 30

Akari [thoughts]: Was frustration.

Akari [thoughts]: The quickly hid that frustration so I wouldn't see it.

Sen-chan [memory]: Be proud!!

Akari: I... I will practice even more from now on...

Akari [thoughts]: I don't want then to hide it from me anymore

Page 31

Akari [thoughts]: Their frustration, their happiness.

Akari: I will become a lot... A lot better.

Akari [thoughts]: I want to share it with them

Akari [thoughts]: Next time

Akari [thoughts]: For sure

Page 32

Akari [thoughts]: I will stand firmly by their side.

Page 33

Mittsu [thoughts]: Eidai, even with that performance, ended up 6th...

Sane [thoughts]: Are you for real?

Judge Agata: Next, I'll announce the winners of the Agency of Cultural Affairs Award.

Judge Agata: That corresponds to the 2nd to 4th ranked schools.

Page 34

Side text: Nerves are running....!!

Judge Agata: In 4th place.

---Kono Oto Tomare! will continue in the next issue!---

[forest-hashira]

Make It Right

me? branching out from animanga? it's more likely than you think lol. anyways, i'm finally dipping my toes into the arcane fandom. please be nice to me i am just a scared little baby deer. also, for the full experience, know that i listened to "the final fight" by conan gray on loop while writing this fic. do with that what you will.

read on ao3 | wc: 6.6k | pairing: viktor x reader | cw: gn reader, modern/college au, alcohol consumption, first kisses, breakup, exes to lovers (mostly), implied ace4ace relationship (reader & vik), caitvi wedding, i think that's it

One of these days you were going to learn to be more selfish. Today, unfortunately, was not that day. It was hard to be selfish when it came to your best friend’s wedding, after all. 

You’d gone along on all of the errands Cait had asked you to attend with her – sometimes in Vi’s stead, sometimes to act as a mediator if they butted heads over any details about the decorations, or cake flavor, or catering, or anything else. Even if preventing them from having arguments got tiring after a while, you were more than happy to oblige; you were good friends with both of them, and you wanted both of them to be happy on their big day.

Besides, it was the least you could do after putting your foot down about being Cait’s maid of honor. She’d been a bit disappointed, but she’d understood. Thankfully, Jayce had been ecstatic when she asked him to be her man of honor – he’d beamed about it for days, and none of the teasing he received about it was enough to dampen his mood.

Not that you saw much of Jayce these days. You were still friends with him, of course, because you were in the same friend groups, but you rarely sought out his company anymore. He hadn’t wronged you at all, but it was hard to be around him without being reminded of how horribly your relationship with his best friend – and roommate – had ended.

You’d met Viktor your freshman year of university, when he’d been assigned as your lab partner in your one required science credit course for your degree. You’d picked the class because the professor had a better student rating than any of your other options, but the subject matter was much harder than you’d anticipated. 

Though he was a bit awkward, Viktor had been kind when you’d asked him for help – he was your lab partner, after all, so part of his grade was riding on your ability to understand and do the work, too. Over the course of the semester, the two of you spent several hours together on four days of the week: two days were the actual class and lab, and the other two days were spent studying, though those study days felt more like tutoring sessions for you. 

Unsurprisingly, you got along really well with him; his dry, sarcastic humor always made you laugh, and his mastery of all things relating to his degree was nothing short of fascinating to you. To your surprise, he seemed to like your company, too. He asked about your day when you saw him, and though he didn’t seem to care much for anyone else, he always listened when you’d talk about your friends. 

When the semester ended, and you finished the class with a ‘B-,’ you invited Viktor to celebrate with you and your friends. He’d agreed after you promised it wouldn’t be anything crazy, just a small party at your friend Cait’s house. 

“Her parents are stupid rich,” you told him. “Her mom’s some sort of diplomat, so they’re out of town for a conference for the next week. Cait invited some of us over to celebrate the end of the semester.”

“How many people is she inviting?” Viktor asked, and though he was good at hiding it, it wasn’t all that difficult for you to pick up on the fact that he was nervous.

“Not many,” you assured him, “She’s not an extremely social person to begin with, honestly. It’ll be her, Vi – who Cait insists she doesn’t have a thing for, but she totally does, we can all see it – Vi’s younger sister Powder, Powder’s friend Ekko, Jayce – who’s been friends with Cait since they were in middle school – me, and if you come, you! So that’s…” You trailed off for a moment, counting on your fingers. “Seven, including you and me. That’s not so bad, right?”

Viktor still seemed unconvinced, but he hadn’t outright said no, either. After a moment, you remembered something else you thought might tempt him, and you perked up.

“Oh! I’m pretty sure Jayce is in the same program you are! Or at least one really similar to it. Something to do with engineering, I think? He’s only told me once so I’m not remembering exactly what it was he told me he’s studying. But I think the two of you would really get along!”

There was a long moment of silence after you spoke, Viktor’s expression completely unchanged. You decided to throw out one more thing to try and tempt him to join you. 

“Please, Vik? I worry about you being alone, I just wanna spend some time with you without having to study until my brain melts out of my ears. Is that really so bad?”

That seemed to do the trick, because his expression softened and he sighed. “Alright, I’ll go with you,” he agreed. “I can’t have you worrying about me for no reason.” The corner of his lips twitched into something faintly reminiscent of a smile, and you nearly cheered. 

For the most part, the party was unremarkable, just as you’d expected, Jayce and Viktor got along well, with Jayce animatedly telling Viktor about his current project, and Viktor offering some input on the parts Jayce said he was stuck on. Almost everybody had a bit to drink, but nobody got so drunk that they were sick or making bad decisions. 

Well… mostly.

“We should play Spin the Bottle.” Vi had a bit of a smirk as she made the suggestion, glancing over at Cait and stifling a bit of a laugh when she blushed. “C’mon, Cupcake, don’t tell me you’re scared of a little game?”

“I am not,” Cait insisted, scowling. “But we’ve already thrown away all the empty bottles.” 

As if she’d been waiting, Vi downed the last of her beer, wiping away the bit that dripped down her chin with the back of her hand as she waved the empty bottle in Cait’s direction. “Got one right here.”

Cait rolled her eyes, resigning herself to the fate of playing the game. “Fine,” she huffed, “But I am not kissing Jayce.” 

Everyone began to take their seats on the floor, making as tight of a circle as they could as Vi laid the bottle on the floor in the middle. Before you joined them, though, you looked over at Viktor. He’d leaned his cane against the arm of the couch where the two of you had been sitting, and he was eyeing the floor grimly.

You bumped him lightly with your shoulder, doing your best not to draw attention to him as you murmured, “D’you wanna stay on the couch?” 

Viktor frowned, considering your words for a moment. Eventually, he shook his head. “No, I think I would prefer to join everyone else on the floor.”

You nodded back, not entirely surprised by his answer; he always did his best not to let his disability hinder him, even if you could see that it caused him pain and discomfort. “Need some help getting down there?”

He hesitated for another moment, then gave a slight nod. “Please.”

Standing from your seat, you took Viktor’s hand, helping him up from the couch and back down onto the floor. It took a few moments and a bit of spatial negotiation to get him into a comfortable position, but soon enough you were settled on the floor, too, with Cait on your left and Viktor on your right. 

“How do we decide who goes first?” Cait asked, arching a brow as she looked across the circle at Vi. 

“I’ll go!” Powder chirped, grinning as she leaned forward, grabbing the bottle and giving it a hard spin. When it finally stopped, the neck of the bottle was pointing squarely at Vi. Instead of being grossed out, Powder simply grabbed her sister, planting an obnoxious kiss on her cheek with an exaggerated “Mwah!” 

Vi rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, shaking her head slightly at her sister’s antics. You laughed along with Powder and Ekko, the girl’s behavior a little ridiculous, but endearing nonetheless. 

Deciding to go clockwise around the circle, Vi grabbed the bottle and gave it a spin herself. After a moment, it landed back where it started, in her direction.

“D’you wanna spin again?” Powder asked, tilting her head slightly. 

“Nah,” Vi replied, twisting around and grabbing a bottle of vodka and a shot glass that had been left on a side table. She poured herself a shot, then downed it right afterwards. “Options are give a kiss or take a shot. And I can’t very well kiss myself.” She set the bottle and the shot glass down in front of her, then turned to look at Viktor. “Your turn.”

Viktor sighed softly, not looking thrilled at the idea of participating, but he didn’t argue, just leaned forward a bit and spun the bottle. As it slowed, it looked for a moment as if it was going to land on Vi again, but it only came to a stop once it pointed at you. Once you processed what you were seeing, you looked up at your friend to gauge his reaction. 

Much to your surprise, Viktor seemed almost scared by the result; he was frozen, eyes widened the tiniest bit. He glanced in your direction for a fleeting second, though when he realized you were already looking at him, his cheeks flushed a rather intense shade of pink. He looked away quickly, instead eyeing the vodka bottle; you’d never really known him to be a drinker, so that was even more surprising to you. 

“You don’t have to take a shot, Vik,” you reminded him gently, offering him a smile when he met your eye again.

“…Are you sure?” he asked, not seeming entirely convinced.

“‘Course I am.” You shifted a bit closer to him, placing your hand over his as you smiled up at him. “No need to be nervous.”

The words seemed to flood Viktor with bashfulness, the pink on his cheeks spreading down his neck. Instead of arguing or insisting he wasn’t nervous, he leaned down, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips to yours.

His lips were softer than you were expecting, if a bit chapped. Your eyes slipped shut as well, and you leaned up a bit more to meet him. A soft puff of air ghosted across your cheek, and you felt him relax a bit more into the touch. As much as you wanted to linger in the kiss, you let him pull away after a couple of seconds. You weren’t sure if it was noticeable, but you could feel a bit of heat in your own cheeks as you smiled up at him again.

“Alright, lovebirds, we get it,” Vi teased, smirking as she leaned past Viktor to look at you. “Your turn, hot stuff.”

With a roll of your eyes, you reached out and spun the bottle. Watching as it spun, you found yourself hoping it would land on Viktor so you could kiss him again. A few rotations later, though, the neck of the bottle pointed squarely at Vi. “Nope,” you said, already reaching for the vodka and the shot glass. You poured and downed a shot in just a few seconds, then bumped Cait for her to take her turn; even without looking at her face, you could tell that your friend was relieved you hadn’t chosen to kiss the person she was interested in.

When you settled back into your spot, you looked up at Viktor again. There was an undeniable look of relief on his face as he smiled faintly down at you, and it made your stomach do a funny little flip. Suddenly feeling a bit bashful, you dropped his gaze, instead resting your head lightly against his shoulder. He made no move to shrug you off, simply adjusted to the small amount of added weight, and shifted his hand so it rested over yours. You exchanged no words through all of the slight shuffling, but it wasn’t awkward – in fact, it was nice to be a little closer to him.

Just as you settled down, though, you watched the bottle stop spinning, once again pointing straight at Vi. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to laugh, but when Cait groaned and leaned across the circle, grabbing Vi by the neck of her shirt and pulling her into a kiss, you couldn’t help but wolf whistle while Jayce, Ekko, and Powder laughed and cheered. 

“Finally,” Vi sighed, once Cait released her and they both sat down again. “About damn time, cupcake.” As smug as she tried to sound, the grin on her lips and the faint blush on her cheeks gave her away.

Cait clicked her tongue, pointedly looking away from Vi and over to Jayce, as if it would hide the way her whole face burned. “It’s your turn, Jayce. What are you waiting for?”

Knowing better than to tease or argue in that moment, Jayce reached forward and gave the bottle a spin. It shifted a bit to the left from how hard he spun it, but when it finally stopped, it landed on Vi. Again. Jayce glanced up at the pink haired girl, and both of them grimaced. Nose still wrinkled, Vi quickly poured a shot, downed it herself, then poured one for Jayce and passed him the glass. 

As Jayce downed the shot, you covered your mouth with your hand and laughed softly; it wasn’t hard to figure out that Vi wasn’t interested in men at all, but you knew for a fact that Jayce liked women, so the fact that both of them were so grossed out by the idea of having to kiss was especially funny to you. Though he remained quiet beside you, you heard Viktor let out the smallest puff of a breath, one you recognized as a laugh. You tilted your head slightly to look up at his face again, dropping your hand down to your lap, and you found him already looking down at you with a faint hint of a smile, a playful sparkle in his eye; he finally seemed to be actually enjoying the party, and you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved.

“What the hell?”

Vi’s baffled voice drew your attention, and you saw that the bottle was pointing at her again, but not in the same position it had been a few moments ago; presumably, Ekko had taken his turn, and just like everyone but Viktor, had wound up with the option to kiss Vi or take a shot. When he blew a kiss to his friend’s older sister, you and Powder both laughed, and even Vi chuckled a bit.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you rigged this game to make sure you’d get kissed tonight,” Cait said. The heat had finally died down from her face, and she was starting to look a bit smug, but that was all undone when Vi grinned at her.

“Cupcake, if the game had been rigged, everyone would’ve kissed me. You’re the only one who actually did it.” 

The laughter that her comment brought forth only ended when Cait threatened to kick everyone out of her house, even if it was only half-hearted.

You couldn’t really avoid Jayce any longer, though. It was finally Cait and Vi’s wedding day, and you were having to do much more coordinating with Jayce than you’d been expecting. It wasn’t anything too serious, thankfully, but it was just enough little things that it was starting to drive you insane. Between the two of you, you’d narrowly avoided Vi seeing Cait’s dress before she was finished getting ready — You’re really not gonna let me see my fiancée on my wedding day? — prevented Powder from staining her bridesmaid’s dress with pizza sauce — I have a romper in the car that’s the same color, it’s not a big deal! — and had to talk the photographer through the directions to the venue when they got lost. And just when you thought you were finally going to be able to take a breath and sit down for a few minutes before the ceremony started, Jayce dropped a bombshell on you.

“What do you mean Viktor’s your plus one today? What happened to bringing Mel?” Despite how you fought to keep your voice level, even to your ears it sounded a bit shrill.

Jayce, to his credit, looked remorseful about what he’d done, even if he did flinch a bit at Mel’s name. “We broke up,” he said. “About a week ago, actually.”

“Oh.” You paused for a moment, feeling a little guilty for being so accusing before you had all the information. “I’m sorry, that’s… Breakups are never fun. I’m sorry.”

He just nodded. “No, they’re not,” he agreed, letting out a soft sigh. Silence settled over the two of you for a moment again, then another thought occurred to you.

“Did Cait know you were bringing him?” It was difficult to imagine your best friend knowing your only ex-boyfriend would be at her wedding and not giving you a head’s up about it, but at the same time you knew she wanted all of her close friends there, and if you’d known ahead of time that Viktor would also be at the wedding, it would’ve been a lot harder for you to make yourself go.

Fortunately for you, Jayce was quick to dismiss that worry. “No, she doesn’t know he’s here. I told her that Mel wasn’t coming but that I wasn’t sure if I was bringing someone else or not.” 

You pursed your lips, but you gave a small nod. Though you were relieved that this detail hadn’t been purposefully been withheld from you, still weren’t happy about it. “I hope you know she’s probably gonna tear you a new one when she realizes you brought him without telling her,” you said after a moment, a faint smile tugging the corner of your lips; the comment was meant mostly to tease, but you and Jayce both knew there was a grain of truth to it. 

Jayce smiled back a bit. “Maybe she’ll go easy on me since he plans on leaving you alone.”

The tension between you now dispersed, you split up with Jayce, letting him go and get ready for his entrance to the ceremony with Powder. Deciding to check in on Cait one last time, you knocked lightly on the door of the room she’d been getting ready in, then poked your head in. 

Cait was sitting at the vanity, staring at herself intently in the mirror, and you knew she was mentally picking apart every part of her hair and makeup. It made you sigh. “You look stunning, Cait. Stop worrying so much.” 

Crossing the room to reach her, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders from behind, resting your chin atop her head, though you were careful not to ruin her hair. “And even if you didn’t, you could walk down the aisle in an inflatable dinosaur costume and Vi would still think you were the most beautiful person in the world.”

Just as you’d hoped, your words made her laugh, and you felt her relax. She reached up and rested a hand on your arm. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome,” you murmured. “Deep breaths, yeah? You got this.” A gentle squeeze to her shoulders, then you added, “I gotta go meet Ekko now. I’ll see you out there in just a minute.”

She nodded, squeezing your arm back gently before you released each other, and you stepped out of the room. Ekko was waiting for you just out in the hall, and he smiled at you, extending your bouquet to you. 

You smiled back, accepting the bouquet, then linking arms with him. “You clean up well, kid. You should wear a suit more often.” 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head at your words, but his smile never faded. “The material’s not forgiving enough to surf in,” he joked back. 

Before you could quip back, it was time for the two of you to enter the ceremony, walking down the aisle to the music you’d helped Cait and Vi pick out together. You made it all the way to the altar without an issue, separating from Ekko and going to stand by Jayce. Despite your better judgment, you found your gaze skimming over the crowd, and when you caught the familiar sight of a crutch leaned against a seat, you felt your throat tighten. You were quick to look away, but it was too late; memories were already flooding back to you. 

Vi hadn’t been the only one to leave that party with a new partner. Unlike Cait and Vi – who jumped right into the deep end of dating after sharing that kiss during spin the bottle – you and Viktor took things slow and steady. There were many conversations about what the kiss at the party had meant, if you even wanted it to mean anything at all, and where the two of you stood after it. Viktor had sheepishly admitted that he’d developed feelings for you about halfway through the semester, and when you told him you felt the same, he’d gotten a little flustered.

The progression of your relationship from there didn’t just feel natural, it felt right. You only got more comfortable being around him, visiting each other’s dorms for movie nights or to study together, often with cheap takeout shared between you. Viktor started joining you and your friends more often when you got together. He didn’t come every time, since he was still rather introverted – you teased him about becoming a complete recluse without you – but would tag along to game nights or bar trivia. 

He asked before he kissed you every time, no matter how long you were together. You thought it was adorable and sweet, and you made sure he knew that. Beyond kissing, physical intimacy wasn’t hugely important to either of you. Sure, sometimes you’d curl up while watching a movie, or you’d fall asleep in the other’s lap, but that was it. The one time it came up around Vi, she’d been so surprised it had worried you, and you’d wondered if you were depriving Viktor of something he wanted simply because you weren’t initiating. Though you’d been nervous about it, you brought it up to Viktor the next time you saw him. He’d been quick to assuage your concerns, assuring you that if there was something he wanted, he would talk to you about it.

“So no, lásko, you are not depriving me of anything.” He’d kissed your forehead afterwards, and you felt him smile against your skin when you relaxed into him. “Am I depriving you of anything?” he’d asked after a moment, a bit of a teasing lilt in his words.

You’d laughed softly, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around him. “No,” you promised, “You’re not. I would talk to you about it if you were.”

And you kept your word. For two years, everything between the two of you was perfect. The first semester of your senior year of university started off just as every other year had, and at first, nothing about your relationship changed. About six weeks in, though, Viktor started a big project in one of his classes, and it consumed nearly his every waking moment. It was a little disappointing to not see your boyfriend as much, but you made the best of it, going to his dorm on the days he wasn’t in the lab all night & bringing takeout with you, knowing he had a tendency to forget to take care of himself when he got sucked into a project. 

But then a project for one class turned into projects for all of his classes, and he all but disappeared from your life. He stopped asking to come and see you, he stopped asking to meet up at the library, he stopped taking care of himself. Even then, you tried to be patient, to be understanding and ignore your hurt feelings; you knew his degree was more work-intensive than yours was, that it required more of his time, but it still wasn’t fun to be faced with the reality of it. 

The final straw came when he stopped so much as answering your texts. It had been three days with no word from him at all, and you, worried he may have pushed himself too hard in the lab over the weekend and gotten himself hurt, went to see if he was in his apartment, or if you needed to look elsewhere for him.

You used the spare key he’d given you about six months before, and when you saw him sitting at his tiny dining table staring blankly down into a mug of coffee, you felt relief rush over you. The relief was quickly followed by irritation, though, when you saw his phone sitting on the table in front of him. 

“Vik,” you sighed, closing the door behind you and crossing the room to join him. “I haven’t heard from you in days, I was getting really worried.” As you spoke, you glanced over at his phone. After a beat, you decided to offer him a graceful out, even if neither of you would really believe him if he took it. “Did you not get my texts?”

“I got them,” he said, voice flat. “I didn’t answer because I was busy.”

His honesty shouldn’t have been a surprise, since he’d never been one to lie to you, but in this instance, it was. “Too busy to send me a quick text to let me know you weren’t unconscious on the floor of your lab?” You did your best to inject a bit of humor into your tone, but it was difficult.

“Yes,” was his simple reply, nothing in his tone or expression changing in the slightest. It didn’t sit well with you.

“Viktor,” you said, doing your best to sound firm but not angry as you stood upright once again. “Do you remember when I said I would tell you if you were depriving me of something in our relationship, just like you said you would?”

He nodded, though he still didn’t look away from his coffee.

“Well,” you continued. “I’m telling you now. You’re not working with me to keep this relationship together. I understand that you’re busy, and that most of the time you don’t have the energy for much besides classes and schoolwork, but you can’t keep treating me like this. I have to be one of your priorities, too.”

“No.”

“...Excuse me?”

“No,” Viktor repeated, a bit more firmly, finally looking up at you. “My classes and my lab work are the most important things in my life right now.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “…More important than spending time with your long term partner?”

“Absolutely.” The certainty in his voice was unmistakable, and your heart dropped to your stomach. “I will not be changing my priorities. Nothing will come ahead of my studies. They are the only things that matter for my future.”

His words made you feel sick. Although you wanted to break down, to scream at him and cry and smash everything in his tiny, shitty apartment where you’d spent so many nights in love with him, you felt like you were watching yourself from outside your body as you whispered, “Fuck you,” then turned and left the apartment, slamming the door forcefully after you. 

The sound of cheering startled you a bit, and when you finally came back to the moment, you saw Vi dipping Cait as they kissed. You grinned at the sight, joining the rest of the guests in clapping. Part of you felt a bit guilty about mentally checking out for the entirety of the ceremony, instead drowning in the memories of your failed relationship, but it couldn’t be helped now. 

Pointedly not looking in the direction you knew Viktor sat in, you joined the rest of the bridal party as they left the room, everyone eager to get to the reception. Powder, Vi, and Cait all rushed off to get changed into their second, more comfortable outfits, leaving you, Ekko, and Jayce to usher the guests into the reception so the happy couple could make their entrance there, too. 

As you greeted the wedding guests and welcomed them into the room the reception was being held in, you were able to forget, for a moment, that the last person you ever wanted to see again was among them. That is, until you felt Jayce’s hand on your back. You turned slightly to look up at him as he gently pushed you into the room. 

He gave you a small, apologetic smile, and you knew instantly he was trying to prevent you from having a run-in with his best friend. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you,” Jayce promised quietly. All you could do was nod, turning and melting into the crowd as they filed into the room. 

Before leaving your apartment that morning, you’d told yourself you weren’t going to have more than a glass or two of champagne, that way you could better enjoy the evening with your friends, but you were already craving something stronger. You hesitated for a moment, then made your way over to the bar. Just one cocktail won’t be so bad, you told yourself. Since there was no one else at the bar just yet, you were easily able to go up and order your drink without having to wait. 

Drink in hand, you thanked the bartender and left a big tip, telling yourself you wouldn’t be going back up again during the reception anyways. You sipped slowly on your drink as you waited for the newlyweds to make their entrance, not wanting the alcohol to hit you too hard before the party actually started. Just a few minutes later, they entered the room, Cait in a looser-fitting, shorter dress – much more conducive for dancing, everyone had agreed at the fitting – and Vi without her suit jacket. You cheered along with everyone else when you finally saw them, and you smiled as you watched their first dance. The way they looked at each other, so in love it was almost sickening, made your heart clench; you were really, truly happy for them, had been rooting for them since you’d realized Cait had a thing for Vi almost five years ago, but you couldn’t help but wish you were in their shoes. 

You downed the rest of your drink and went back to the bar for another when you caught yourself looking for Viktor; the last thing you needed was to be lovesick over the man who’d wrecked you while you were trying to celebrate two of your best friends. Unfortunately, that meant that your “just one cocktail” promise to yourself had turned into three – one Dark n’ Stormy, one Suffering Bastard, and one Death in the Afternoon. 

As you sipped your third drink, you watched your friends out on the dancefloor; a slower song had started, and Vander had stolen his oldest daughter away from Cait for it. Cait swayed around a bit with Jayce, and Powder rested her head on Ekko’s shoulder as he held her close, his faint rocking movements in sync with the music. Everyone had a partner, someone to share the moment and be happy with.

Except for you.

Yet again, you found your gaze wandering, and eventually you spotted Viktor again. He was on the opposite side of the room, his crutch leaning against the table where he sat. He was alone, and he looked almost as uncomfortable and miserable as you felt, though he didn’t seem to be drinking. It was clear that he was as far from you as he could get, something that was certainly Jayce’s doing, since he’d promised he wouldn’t let Viktor bother you, but you were just buzzed enough to ignore everything in you that was screaming for you to stay away.

What’s the worst that could happen? you thought, downing the rest of your drink and placing the empty glass on the bar before picking your way across the room, skirting the dance floor and all the other happy partygoers. Somehow, Viktor didn’t notice you until you pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. “Why are you here?” you asked, crossing your legs. You leaned back in your seat a bit, just watching him. 

For a few long moments, he just stared at you, eyes wide with wordless shock, like he couldn’t really believe you were there talking to him. When you arched a brow at him, though, it seemed to bring him back to himself. “Jayce said I needed to get out of the house and go somewhere that wasn’t the lab,” he answered, dropping your gaze as he spoke. “I knew you were going to be here, so I told him I did not think it was a good idea, but he was insistent. He wouldn't leave the house without me.”

Even once he finished speaking, he wouldn’t look at you again, and all you could think was how much it reminded you of the last conversation you had with him. Forcing those thoughts aside, you took a moment to really look at him, to see how he’d changed in the years since you’d broken up. His hair was a bit longer, but he still wore it in generally the same style; he used a crutch now, rather than a cane, something Jayce had mentioned before and you’d glimpsed during the ceremony, but it was entirely different seeing it up close; his clothes seemed looser on him, as if he’d lost weight he couldn’t really afford to lose; he even seemed paler than you remembered, almost ashen. It all made your heart pang; the years clearly had not been kind to him, but even still, you couldn’t forget how unkindly he’d treated you first.

“You really fucking hurt me, you know that?” The words slipped out before you could think them through, and once you started, you couldn’t make them stop. “The way you treated me right before we broke up was so… so shitty, Vik. You didn’t even care about me anymore. Do you know how that made me feel?”

He winced at your words, but he nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly, “I do.”

“How could you possibly know?” Bitterness curled around your words, and you nearly choked on them.

“Caitlyn showed up at my apartment a couple of months after our breakup. She was furious, screaming at me about how much I’d hurt you, how miserable you were all the time. She told me you’d spent practically every night at her house, crying on her shoulder about how awful you felt and how much you hated me.” A small, sardonic smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he added, “I think she would have tried to kill me if Jayce hadn’t been there with me.”

Viktor looked up at you again after that, looking almost pained. “I am deeply sorry for doing that to you. I never should have treated you so terribly.”

His words shocked you, and you were only a little surprised to feel your eyes begin to burn with tears. “…I really loved you, Vik,” you whispered, throat tight as you tried to keep your emotions in check. “Like, I really loved you. Those years we were together, I was so happy. I felt like I’d won the lottery, because I had a partner I was head over heels for and who loved me just as much, I had an amazing group of friends, and my education was going perfectly. I let myself start planning my future because I was so convinced everything was going my way.”

A short, bitter laugh escaped you, and you shook your head. “It sounds stupid now, but… I even started looking at wedding venues and engagement rings. Spending the rest of my life with you seemed inevitable, so I got carried away.” You trailed off, wiping your eyes quickly before you started sobbing like a baby. “I’m not even sure why I’m telling you this,” you admitted. “I never wanted to see you again. I really thought I’d moved past all this. But I guess not.”

Viktor was silent for so long you started to feel self conscious, even with three drinks practically erasing your inhibitions, and you glanced over at him to try and gauge how he was feeling. You were a bit shocked to see that he looked almost sick. 

“You… wanted to get married?” His voice was smaller than you could ever recall hearing it, but instead of feeling vindicated like you’d expected, you just felt worse. 

“Yeah. Of course I did, Vik. I never cared about anyone the way I cared about you.” 

Silence settled over the two of you for several long moments; it left you feeling exposed and anxious after being so vulnerable with him, something you hadn’t even been planning on doing when you walked over to him. Just before you could stand up to flee, Viktor spoke again.

“I have missed you every single day since our relationship ended,” he confessed, once again staring at his hands. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I treated you like garbage. You deserved so much better than that; you still do.” 

He paused, took a deep breath, then continued, more nervous than before. “Is… is there any chance you could ever forgive me?” he asked. “I know it is selfish of me to ask – that I don’t deserve to be forgiven – and I would not blame you if you cursed me out instead, but I am asking anyways.” When you didn’t answer right away, he looked up at you one last time, the deep gold of his eyes shining even in the dimmed lighting of the venue. “I will get down on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes. Even if you kick me while I am down, I will do whatever you ask to earn your forgiveness.”

All the air was sucked from your lungs at his words, and all you could do at first was stare; it was so reminiscent of the Viktor you’d been certain you would marry that it made you dizzy. “You idiot,” you huffed, shaking your head at him. “Stay in your fucking chair, Jayce’ll have a heart attack if he sees you on the floor.”

Viktor gave a slight shrug. “He probably would,” he agreed, “But it would be worth it if it meant making things up to you.”

“That’s not the way I want you to make things up to me, Viktor.”

If you hadn’t memorized every one of his mannerisms, you would’ve missed the way he perked up the tiniest bit at your words. “Is there a way you want me to make things up to you?”

Though you tried to fight it, the faintest hint of a smile ghosted across your lips. “You could start by getting me a glass of water.”

He smiled back faintly. “Anything else?”

“I wouldn’t mind a snack with it.”

“Your wish is my command.”

The way your heart fluttered at his words was all too familiar, but you were starting to think that that wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.

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[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: RPGs for Accessible Gaming

The RPGs for Accessible Gaming Bundle is currently live, and it's raising some money for a great cause: DOTS Braille Dice, which makes tabletop gaming more accessible for blind gamers. Here's a few great games that you can find in this gigantic bundle!

Arkyvr, by Alewood Games.

ARKYVR is a multimedia MOTHERSHIP 1E setting & toolkit to play documentary filmmakers in space for 1-4 players and 1 GM.

Equipped with only their camera gear, ARKYVRs will attempt to document life in space and expose corporate client atrocities while surviving the void’s unspeakable horrors. Players will make ends meet through corporate media contracts but with each assignment they will also find horrible truths hidden just under the surface of their mission. If the ARKYVR crew survives their film shoot, they must then decide how to distribute their footage. Some clients will pay a handsome price to cover up their atrocities while others will use it to lead a revolution. How will players use their recorded stories to shift the balance of power? Will they even live long enough to tell the story?

Created by and in collaboration with industry filmmakers! ARKYVR is a 60 page zine that brings a unique vision to deadly space adventures through the lens of a camera!

ARKYVR only works if you have a copy of MOTHERSHIP to play with it with, but since the core rules of MOTHERSHIP are free to access, this shouldn't stop you from being able to pick up the game and enjoy it's film-making twist. Each character concept comes with duties: elements of the role's job that help you define your character and give them some bones to build a personality off of. The core rules of the game are re-contextualized around missions that involve capturing footage, rather than investigating jobs gone wrong.

I feel like ARKYVR has the potential to combine the horror of space with the lovely irony present in horror movies that involve artists getting in way over their head for the pursuit of the art that they love. How much will they sacrifice for the perfect shot? What kind of art does their team want to make? What kind of art can their team afford to make? What dark secrets will they uncover in the process?

Fang, by Joel Happyhil.

You’re a Fang, an ageless super-powered being living among humans, you live in city that doesn’t matter surrounded by people who won’t live to see a fraction of your life, yet you can’t help but be intrigued. You are driven by your desire, an ever-growing thirst that has the power to reduce you to something less than human, but who knows how long that could take.

Here's a game for the vampires and their human companions. FANG has a lot of common hallmarks when it comes to what you think about ttrpgs: stats with ratings attached (in this case in the form of dots), playbooks that define your character type, and a method of advancement, to show how your PC grows over time. Similar to Blades in the Dark, there's dice pools and staggered resolution levels. There's also a thirst track that increases and decreases as your vamp experiences the visceral parts of life, like physical harm, strong emotions, or the thrill of victory.

What I love in games like this is when you see what happens when you hit your character's limit. In FANG, this limit is Starvation - when your Thirst track hits 12. Your character has an outburst, or breaks down, pushing you closer and closer to getting taken out of the scene. On the other side of the coin, Human characters have a Passion track, which is less powerful than Thirst, but also exempts them from the consequences of Starvation.

If you want a game about a desperate character having a terrible time, you'll likely find some really satisfying moments in FANG.

Be Seeing You, by Tanya Floaker.

This roleplaying game contains dangerous levels of dystopian science fiction, social allegory, and psychological drama.

Influenced by fiction in the vein of The Prisoner, Stalker, and Utopia, and real struggles against mass surveillance, the Hostile Environment, and the alienating effects of capitalism.

Be Seeing You is a game about surveillance and dystopia, but it's also a collaborative world-building exercise, building a story through a series of short vignettes. No character is controlled by one single person; each player will pick up the role of the Prisoner throughout the story, focusing on how this central character is treated by the village and its residents.

The game itself is diceless; things change in the story based on the kinds of choices you make when it comes to answering the prompts and following the parts of the story that are interesting to you. This is a game that thrives with a group that feels comfortable in the dystopian genre and loves hitting thematically resonant story beats.

Pretty Beastly, by Em Hubbard.

Calling all disaffected furniture, oppressed appliances, and humble housewares ready to rise up against monstrous monarchists! You were once simple servants in the household of an overbearing oligarch. Years ago, you were victims of an unfair curse and now you really are objects - dishes, chairs, mirrors, and ornaments. The time has now come to rise up against your Prince, defeat the vile sorcerer, and fight back against an oppressive social system!

Pretty Beastly is a collaborative roleplaying game for 2-5 players. Players work together to create a story of cursed household servants struggling against their oppressive social system. A deck of cards will help determine your challenges, successes, and failures.

Taking inspiration from animated musicals and dramatic historical epics, a fantastical (problematic) fairy tale collides with the French Revolution. Quirky and political, this game will take you on a wild anti-establishment musical adventure.

Welcome to the story of Beauty and the Beast, from the furniture's point of view. Set firmly in the setting of 18th century, this is a game of rage and revenge; working as a group to escape, defeat, or break the chains you find yourselves under as the servants of cursed and cruel monarch. The game is played over a series of scenes, using playing cards to provide inspiration for challenges as well as the means by which you can overcome those challenges. There's also a hilarious addition of musical numbers, where your characters break into song if you draw a low-enough card.

Corporate Fae, by ryland.s.

You’re a really weird fae, as far as everyone knows, you’re the only one who’s got an obsession with human corporate work life. Fortunately for you, you can stand in as someone’s secretary, manager, or the barista across the building. Unfortunately for humans, they don’t remember you before and after you temporarily take up someone’s position.

A close human friend asks you to attend some company galas and parties to do some corporate espionage and learn some gossip your friend can monopolize.

All you need is a deck of standard playing cards without the jokers, a way to record, and some time to play.

Hello solo gamers, I haven't forgotten about you! Corporate Fae is a prompt-based solo game that uses a deck of cards to generate details that allow you to imagine a story about a fae trying to commit corporate espionage.

The game is rather simple; you draw to determine the role you've taken and the kind of party you attend, and then continue to draw various juicy pieces of gossip that your fae will overhear. I think it might be interesting to try and piece the bits of gossip together, to paint a portrait of a slowly unraveling secret being pieced together from the various bits of information you gather while socializing at the party.

The only criticism I have for this game is that there isn't a great way to wrap up the game in a neat little bow at the end - I think I would have loved some kind of tension underneath getting found out, or perhaps a timer that gives you a hard limit on how much time you have to gather information before you need to leave the party - maybe like a clock-strikes-midnight situation or something like that.

Darkest Hour, by Emmeryn.

Here, a night like any other.

Rays of sunlight slowly recede over the wilds, the cabin, the steeple, the mausoleum. A gathering of friends, allies, comrades, hunters, united in their cause. They may not yet realize the danger they are in, but a cruel eye turns upon them. Something cursed awakens, stirring to life with the fall of dusk. A hunger claws free from the pitch black.

In the darkest hours of night, hearts tighten as untold horrors bear down. Fangs, claws, the glint of rusted steel and the scrape of bone. Howls and screams resound in the darkness, creeping ever closer.

Will you live to see the light of day?

Darkest Hour is a horror tabletop game designed for one-shot horror sessions. It can be played as a GMless game or with a GM, and can accommodate 2 to 5 players (with or without a GM) for one to two play sessions totaling 2 to 5 hours. It can be played with as little as the book and three six-sided dice.

Say hello to a one-shot horror game that can provide multiple sessions of fun, thanks to the various settings and horrors you can combine for a different theme each time. Your characters are hunters, pursuing a monstrous and terrible haunt that has trapped them somewhere. You use six-sided dice to try and overcome the challenges this story throws at you, each obstacle becoming harder and harder to overcome the longer the story goes.

The author refers to the work of Avery Alder, but I feel that in some ways, there's also a little bit of Ten Candles hidden in the roots of this game, especially with the rising doom the further into the story you go. That being said, the Haunt does have a weakness, and defeating them is much more likely to happen than in a Ten Candles game. If you want a game that's dripping in monster vibes, you probably want Darkest Hour.

Other Games I've Recommended in the Past…

Teenagers With Attitude and Post Apo Calypse, by CardboardHyperfix.

A Witch, A Gallows Bird, by Jellyfishlines.

Protect the Child and Copper Shores by me!

Wrath of the Undersea, by EfanGamez.

If you like what I do, you can always leave a tip at my Ko-Fi!

[karvroom]

School Outside of Heroism

There’s classes outside of Homeroom with Mr. Aizawa, right? So what is Class 1-A like in science, PE, English, Math, etc.?

includes: Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, Denki Kaminari, Eijiro Kirishima, Ochako Uraraka, Tsuyu Asui, Momo Yaoyorozu

═════════════

⟢ KATSUKI BAKUGO

✮ surprisingly really good at math

✮ constantly wants to compare math answers with whoever is sitting next to him. if the person’s answer was wrong, he would say “shits easy. what aren’t you getting?” then would proceed to show step by step how he got his correct answer.

✮ absolutely hates english and modern literature

✮ as much as he doesn’t enjoy reading, he’ll still try the material, but would often get confused by the jumble of words.

✮ faded sketches of pro heroes are scattered in his notes. they’re only faded because he erases them at the end of class to ensure no one would ever see them.

✮ during science, he would know every single answer when it came to anything regarding stars or planets. when he was a kid he had a major obsession with astronomy (even had the plastic glowing stars on his bedroom ceiling).

⟢ IZUKU MIDORIYA

✮ has definitely called All Might “dad” by accident when talking about him to Todoroki.

✮ has a hard time during anatomy because he’s too focused on the unit where they learn about quirks. he would bother the teacher everyday by asking questions about various different quirks.

✮ his notes are always disorganized, yet he somehow knows where the exact information he’s looking for is. to make it even worse, he doesn’t add any form of annotation—no highlighting, underlining, circling, etc.

✮ horrible hand writing.

✮ he keeps track of who’s absent in any class. the next day, he’ll give the person his notes of what they missed (even if they were unable to read his chicken scratch).

⟢ SHOTO TODOROKI

✮ neatest hand writing you’ll ever come across

✮ sneaks his phone under the desk just to text his mom/sister back when he knows he shouldn’t.

✮ the type to never ask for help in class from his classmates or the teacher, yet always gets a perfect grade on his assignments. when he does need help he’ll shyly ask Fuyumi for it.

✮ fell asleep in class one time and no one woke him up.

✮ you’ll find Midoriya as his partner in most classes

✮ his sister would find the time to make a large breakfast for the family every morning, but he always only eats a slice of toast or two strips of bacon.

⟢ DENKI KAMINARI

✮ used to always chew the tops of the erasers off of pencils.

✮ tries so hard to be the class clown (he is)

✮ always asks the group chat for class 1-a for the answers. when no one responds in the chat or Iida bites his head off for “not trying”, Sero would send him the answers in a private chat between them two.

✮ never has a pencil, yet keeps small knick knacks (fidget spinners, fidget cubes, small action figurines, etc.) in the front pocket of his backpack.

✮ Nike representative.

⟢ EIJIRO KIRISHIMA

✮ along with Iida, Kirishima is that one kid who shouts at the class to be quiet when the teacher is talking.

✮ a lot of girls outside of 1-A have a fat crush on him.

✮ lovesss taking culinary classes, even if he isn’t a great cook. he forced Kaminari to take them with him.

✮ struggles in math, but whenever he does get the correct answer he makes a big deal about it, showing it off to whoever is closest to him.

✮ very sociable; if he sees someone sitting by themselves, he’ll go up and ask if they want to sit with him or just plop in a seat next to them and strike up a conversation.

⟢ OCHAKO URARAKA

✮ finds dissecting any kind of animal in anatomy disgusting and forces Mina to do all the work.

✮ the one girl who is always out of her seat and socializing with everyone.

✮ is never seen alone. she’s always accompanied by midoriya, tsu, or hagakure.

✮ on the first day, when the teacher was calling names for attendance, she responded by saying “present”. Sero and Kaminari would not shut up about for the rest of the day.

⟢ TSUYU ASUI

✮ unable to dissect any animal during anatomy because…yk—so her and Uraraka make Mina do it.

✮best subject is history. she’s a history NUT when it comes to that class. she aces every quiz/exam. easily remembers dates of important events.

✮ teachers LOVE her, but she doesn’t feed into it (she doesn’t like being a teacher’s pet).

✮ never responds in the class 1-A group chat unless they are directly talking to her or something regarding her.

⟢ MOMO YAOYOROZU

✮ has every color highlighter she could ever need.

✮ carries a water bottle with her everywhere (stanley, hydroflask, etc.)

✮ has an extra tote bag that has all the essentials: hairbrush, hair ties, a book, an extra plastic water bottle, headphones, etc.

✮ freaks out when her grade goes below an A-

✮ ENGLISH QUEEN. loves reading and analyzing texts and speeches given by the teacher. she studies them even outside of class so whenever the teacher asks questions she’s always the first to answer.

✮ teacher’s pet but doesn’t acknowledge that fact

[holy-sturgeons]

I need to be frustrated about something

I am attending an environmental college, working on online classes to obtain my degree. I am officially one year into my 4 years and have, so far, very much enjoyed the learning.

Every few classes, though, my professors have placed a banner in our assignment tabs that states "you are welcome to use ChatGPT to help you brainstorm ideas for this assignment. To properly cite a source like generative AI, use this link..." blah blah blah.

This drives me UP A WALL.

How can a school dedicated to environmental sciences promote this? How can this be such a regular thing to see in my classes? One professor even gave us homework that involved using AI to create fake social media posts.

I hate it so much.