#i am just innocently scrolling and BAM

[lupeloto]

everytime one of yall reblog that god forsaken gif of drunk mickey hugging ian’s jacket….

asking to get ur asses BLOCKED (affectionate)

[moonsugar-and-spice]

⃤ So, if I can be frank, Lu Dao, don't take too much offense to what I am about to say but you come off as a ladies man.

I have to know, is any one woman capable of your having your devotion or is the sea your only lover?

If you've met this woman already what makes her so special? And if you haven't, what does she have to have to make you turn your ship around?

Send a △ and ask my character(s) a really invasive question.

2/10. He is not easily offended, it’s a beautiful day in Harbor City, and this should be an easy enough question for him to answer.  You’ve caught him walking en route to his ship alongside his first mate, Rizo.

Your footsteps thunk out of sync along the docks, the scent of hot coal and fish guts ripe in the briny air. “A ladies’ man?” echoes Lu Da, as if the notion is preposterous and you’ve just nicked his ego with a blade. 

Rizo meets your eye, only shakes his head, as the three of you stop before a magnificent vessel, all strong lines and gleaming metal, boasting power and resilience, red-tinted windows studding the bridge like jewels.

Her captain grins, extending an arm toward the waiting ramp, the ship’s name glinting in the noonday sun. Revenant's Forge.

As you’re led up to the deck, starting to wonder whether he means to dodge the question, Lu Da counters, “I prefer to think of myself as more of a ladies’ ally…” 

The words hang as he exchanges cheeky greetings with the motley, formidable group that snaps to attention. Then, he turns back to face you, extending his arms slightly as he walks backward, palms open, lips slanting in a smile. Genial. Contagious.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he prompts on your behalf. “Well, it’s true I’m a lucky guy who’s had the pleasure of knowing some pretty remarkable women. Even learned a thing or two from most of ‘em. But, more importantly, I aim to be a man who appreciates and respects the women in my life.” 

Lu Da reaches the sun-warmed taffrail, leaning back against it. A salty breeze musses the fringe of his mohawk. “And y’know, I think that’s what a real ladies’ man is all about. It’s not about collecting conquests or playing some kind of smooth charmer—”

A muffled snort at your side. Rizo clears his throat, throwing on an innocent look.

“It’s not about a silver tongue or irresistible charisma—though those things have their place. It’s about valuing and supporting the women around you. And if all that makes me a ladies’ man?” Lu Da offers a shrug of one brawny shoulder. “Yeah, then I guess you’ll have to count me in.”

“That’s sweet and all, Cap’n,” Rizo cuts in, his amusement reflected amongst the crew. “And while true—you know the lot of us’ll vouch for that—I think our friend’s more referring to the way you busted outta your mama’s womb flirting.”

Raucous laughter ignites and Rizo turns to you, lips splitting in a lupine grin. “Legend has it he winked at the midwives, babbled one of his witty one-liners, and had the lot of ‘em swooning like a bunch of romance scroll heroines. He is a smooth charmer, but the sneaky kind—you don’t see it coming, ‘cause all you can see is the inkocalypse he’s got goin’ on, and then, bam.” The sharp clap of his hands rings in the air. “Slip on it like a papaya rind.”

There is a playful twist on Lu Da’s lips, a laugh huffed through his nose, but even you know well enough that there is no room for real indignation.

“Alright, so maybe I have a bit of a reputation,” he admits, then tosses you a nod. “But, look, if you’re gonna be frank, well then, I guess I’ll be shittily honest.”

The bustling harbor drones and clatters as Lu Da sighs, shifts, sunlight scattered by his rings as he anchors strong hands on either side of him along the rail. His attention drifts and narrows on the distant seam of sea and sky.

Whoops, the dial is ticking up now. 3/10… 4/10…

“Never really admitted this to anyone out loud, save for a few souls,” he begins haltingly. “I enjoy good company, that’s no secret. You could say I’m a people person, half of the time anyway, and the other half I just like fucking with ‘em. Flirting?” His gaze does not slip from where it is moored to the horizon. “Good seventy percent of the time for me it’s a game, another ten percent accounting for boredom. The fun of catching ‘em off guard with a smile, and sure, a smooth word, betting with myself on who’ll respond with disgust or suspicion or desire, which ones’ll turn tail and which’ll catch spark.”

A rueful smile flickers across his face as he drags his gaze back to yours, taps a ringed finger to his temple.

“‘Ah,’ you’re thinking, ‘there’s the shitty part.’ And yeah, probably.” A shadow of something crosses his face, etching a faint furrow between his brows. “But here’s the thing. As a mercenary pirate, my life isn’t exactly conducive to deep romantic connections. Always on the move, never knowing what might happen from one moment to the next, so fleeting encounters are the currency of my existence.

“Then we factor in that among the pool of people undeterred by…” a pause to gesture vaguely at the tattoos, the piercings, the strip of dark hair running down his head, a man who carved his name into the annals of ill-repute, “...there’s a half-dried puddle of the ones who see beyond it. Most’re just down for the thrill, the forbidden, the seductive danger or the usual fetishized attraction, you know. Not much worth taking seriously when you know most of them don’t see you or don’t care to.”

A shimmer of wings slices the air as a gull swoops, diving for a cart. The fisherman lunges but the bird is faster, its prize winking silver as it makes off.

“All that to say, when it is more, the rare times it has been—”

“Put it this way,” says Rizo, “when Lu Da stops playin’ games, you know shit’s got real.”

The acknowledgment tugs at the ink on his face as Lu Da shrugs his head toward his first mate: What he said. “Over the years, there’ve been a few. One or two that mighta stood the long haul even, had it not been for shitty luck or circumstances. Took to joking that the only lady I really need is Soraya, my crossbow, or my ship, and yeah, even the sea herself, and all of it was true. It was easier that way.”

The landscape shifts, his expression softening into something tender and earnest. “And then I met Rinna.”

“Man got obliterated by a love comet, and ever since he’s been orbiting in a cosmic haze of heart-shaped stardust. Just look at ‘im.” 

Lu Da only grins. It should look misplaced, this depth of warmth and affection radiating from a man of such an aspect and infamy. “She’s pretty damn awesome. Strong. Whip-smart. Head-turningly beautiful. But I’ve been around, and that stuff may be great, but it plays second erhu to what really matters.”

There is the clank of metal and low chatter, a sighing groan as the vessel rocks. Most of the crew has dispersed to their various tasks. Only Rizo stays behind, sinewy arms folded across his chest. 

“Rinna… she’s the kind of person who makes you feel alive, makes you believe in yourself, not just who you are but your potential, that your life might actually be worth a…” The words tangle in his chest. Lu Da starts again, his voice huskier, infused with the salt and grit of a life at sea. “Well, she’s got this… supernatural knack for seeing people. I’m talking seeing past all the surface-level and even mid-level shit, straight through to the core of who you are, for better or worse. 

“The first time she called me a good man, I shot it down. Forcing a puzzle piece where it didn’t fit. Done too many bad things, I’d told her. It was true. But she wasn’t convinced. Doesn’t like to define a person by their past, she says. ‘Uh, okay…’” he drawls, a mirror of hesitancy, the fragile dance between hope and trepidation. “I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it will, of course, it always does. And I’m waiting, and waiting. And slowly, I stop, and I realize she’s for real.

“And it’s not just about the faults and imperfections, how she embraces all of you, no. Somehow, this woman is armed with the power to zero in on the absolute best parts of you. She can see qualities you might not even be aware of yourself, and then she holds them up like precious gems for you to marvel at.” Lu Da swallows thickly, composes himself with the huff of a laugh. His hand slides from the sun-drenched rail to run through his hair. “It’s a bit uncanny at times, actually. But Rinna changed the game. She’s a beacon of light. In this whirlwind life, where the only constants are chaos and change, she’s my north star.”

[amixiifish]

Heat- Chapter 59: Melon Lord

The Gaang stands on some rocky cliffs near the beach.

Sokka clasps his hands together. “Gather round, Team Avatar.”

He puts a carved melon on top of a draped mannequin.

“In order to take out the Fire Lord - or in this case, the Melon Lord - our timing has to be perfect,” Sokka explains.

He kneels down on the ground and uses a stick to draw a line heading toward the Melon Lord symbol.

“First, Suki, Jet, and I will draw his fire. Then, Katara and Zuko charge in with some liquidy hot offense, and while the Melon Lord is distracted, Aang swoops in and bam! He delivers the final blow.”

Toph raises a hand, “Uh ... what about me?”

“For now, you're the Melon Lord's forces,” Sokka says.

Toph ponders it for a moment. “So I get to chuck flaming rocks at all of you?”

Sokka shrugs. “Whatever makes the training feel more realistic.”

Toph grins. “Sweetness.”

After a few moments, Toph was surrounded by boulders coated in grease with small bowls of fire set out in front of each boulder.

Toph flails her fists, casting the rocks to move. “Mwah-ha-ha-ha!”

Katara and Sokka look at Aang and Momo who look at Suki and Jet.

Sokka signals to the others to start moving.

Sokka, Jet, and Suki run toward the Melon Lord, but become confronted by stone Fire Nation soldiers, who suddenly rise out of the ground.

Sokka cuts one stone soldier in half and Suki kicks down another one while Jet decapitates the third.

They keep running, but a large burning rock boulder falls out of the sky in front of them.

Suki jumps over the boulder while Jet skillfully manages to slide under before it hits the ground.

Sokka finds himself fallen down just a few inches away from the flaming boulder and jumps up.

“Watch it, Toph!” Sokka yells.

“I am not Toph. I am Melon Lord! Mwah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Toph cackles, lighting up more boulders.

Toph lights a second boulder on fire and sends it through the air at Zuko and Katara.

They run around the boulder and become surrounded by a circle of stone Fire Nation soldiers, which they quickly destroy.

The two flash each other a grin before continuing.

“Now, Aang!” Sokka calls.

Aang jumps, preparing to strike the Melon Lord with his glider staff.

Aang looks at the Melon Lord and changes expressions from anger to uncertainty.

When he lands, Aang stops his attack just before smashing the Melon Lord.

He slowly backs away.

Zuko gawks at him. “What are you waiting for? Take him out!”

Aang shakes his head. “I can't.”

Sokka walks up to Aang. “What's wrong with you? If this was the real deal, you'd be shot full of lightning right now.”

Aang bites his lip. “I'm sorry, but it just didn't feel right. I didn't feel like myself.”

Sokka takes out his sword and slices the melon in half.

Aang winces as he hears squishing sounds.

Sokka sheaths his sword. “There, that's how it's done.”

A piece of melon falls on the ground near the Melon Lord.

Momo slurps some melon juice out of the piece.

Aang's face shows horror at the scene.

Later that night, Team Avatar shares a meal outside.

Aang faces away from the rest of the group.

Katara runs out of the house, a scroll in her hands. “I have a surprise for everyone!”

Toph points at her with a grin. “I knew it! You did have a secret thing with Haru!”

Jet, Sokka, Zuko, and Suki look at her weird.

Katara looks at her unamused. “Uh, no. I was looking for cooking pots in the attic, and I found this!”

She unravels the scroll, showing a painting of a happy dark-haired baby playing at the beach.

“Look at baby Zuko. Isn't he cute?” Katara coos.

Everybody except Zuko laughs.

“Oh, lighten up. I'm just teasing,” Katara says, poking Zuko’s side playfully.

Zuko shakes his head, lips pursed. “That's not me. It's my father.”

Katara rolls up the scroll as everyone goes quiet.

Suki looked appalled. “But he looks so sweet and innocent.”

Zuko sighs. “Well, that sweet little kid grew up to be a monster, and the worst father in the history of fathers.”

“But he's still a human being,” Aang blurts out.

Zuko looks shocked before he looks furious. “You're going to defend him?”

Aang raises his hands in mock surrender while standing up. “No, I agree with you. Fire Lord Ozai is a horrible person, and the world would probably be better off without him, but there's got to be another way.”

Zuko narrows his eyes. “Like what?”

Aang perks up. “I don't know but maybe we can make some big pots of glue, and then I can use gluebending to stick his arms and legs together so he can't bend anymore!”

“Yeah, then you can show him his baby pictures, and all those happy memories will make him good again,” Zuko said sarcastically.

Jet and Sokka laugh.

Aang looks at Zuko excitedly. “Do you really think that would work?”

“No,” Zuko says bluntly.

Aang sighs before pacing back and forth. “This goes against everything I learned from the monks. I can't just go around wiping out people I don't like.”

“Sure you can. You're the Avatar. If it's in the name of keeping balance, I'm pretty sure the universe will forgive you,” Sokka said.

Aang turns to Sokka, anger clear on his face. “This isn't a joke, Sokka! None of you understand the position I'm in.”

“Aang, we do understand. It's just-” Katara consoles

“Just what, Katara? What?” Aang snaps.

Katara reels back. “We're trying to help!”

“Then, when you figure out a way for me to beat the Fire Lord without taking his life, I'd love to hear it!” Aang yells, walking away.

Katara walks towards Aang. “Aang, don't walk away from this.”

Zuko puts a hand on Katara’s shoulder. “Let him go. He needs time to sort it out by himself.”

[faewihngs]

      hiya, my name is fae. i’ve been really looking to do some 1x1 rp’s for a while now ( mostly on discord cause it’s easier for me ). i really want some f/f and m/f, but i only have one muse ( kind of? she’s half developed ). so i figured i’d share some plots that i’d love to do. feel free to message me or like this if you’re interested ( and please be 18+ )

      i am absolutely up for smut, though it isn’t needed.

P L O T S

( cr. ) can someone pls give me a thing w/ a VERY innocent girl that wears a lot of pastel pink and lace who hasn’t done anything bad w / anyone but HAS kissed one person which was her boyfriend, who her parents arranged her to be with. she never felt   RIGHT   when she was with him, but she hated to be alone so she stayed with him,  then all of a sudden she meets a   GIRL   at a party, covered with tattoos   &   maybe a couple piercings,  who takes an immediate interest in her  &  wants her story.  they talk all night about everything, not wanting to leave each other.  then,  the innocent girl admits that she has been curious about experimenting with girls, but she never tried it for being too scared.  (    maybe they kiss or even more,  its a personal choice.    )  ANYWAY next day comes around and there’s a family get together at her boyfriends house, and the innocent girl walks in and   BAM   who does she see   ??   the girl from the night before dressed up with no piercings in  &  a long sleeve shirt covering her tattoos,   and surprise surprise  ??   she’s her boyfriends sister who is visiting from across the country.

( cr. | i’d love this as f/f or m/f )  he’s the resident bad boy she’s the innocent little flower they fall in love they date he breaks her heart for whatever reason she cries THEY TOLD ME NOT TO TRUST YOU they break up he pretends not to care some asshole hits on her he beats the living crap out of said asshole whilst screaming DON’T YOU EVER GO NEAR HER AGAIN I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU SHE’S THE BEST FUCKING THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO ME GODDAMMIT

( cr. | absolutely love this as f/f ) i want to have a plot where ballerina/bad boy and she has very strict parents and they force to dedicate her life to dancing which she agrees to until she meets a boy who smokes a lot, gets into a lot of fights, and always has a cocky smile on his face. but she doesn’t mind because he makes her feel like she isn’t someone’s doll anymore, like a normal person. 

( cr. | i’d love to play muse a, and this could be f/f or m/f ) so Muse A is a broke ass college student who is struggling to even eat each day and is working two jobs while still in school. Muse B is a CEO of a large corporation and a multi-millionaire. One night Muse A was scrolling through the internet and finds a website that sets you up with potential sugar daddies and Muse B sends Muse A a message right away and basically says if you come live with me for the summer and pretend to be in a relationship with me and ocassionally give me head or something like that, I’ll fucking take care of you 

( cr. | i’d love this as f/f or m/f ) i know lots of people get all hot and heavy for the ‘rebel/bad influence who goes after the goody goody/nerd to corrupt them’ but what about the reverse? what if the rebel was the one minding their own business when the goody goody suddenly started approaching them, asking them out, trying to get to know them. constant pestering and cute little quips that leave the rebel flustered (and a little flattered but don’t tell the goody goody shhh).just picture it. initially people think the rebel is the one giving the goody goody a hard time but instead the rebel’s trying to avoid getting seen with the other a lot bc no you’re too pure and sweet you’re gonna ruin my punk rock image sTOP. but the goody goody just doesn’t care about image or labels they just know that they want the rebel and dammit they’re gonna get the rebel.

( cr. |  i’d love this as f/f or m/f, and to be muse b ) MUSE A AND MUSE B ARE FRIENDS AND THEY’RE ROUGHHOUSING/PLAY-FIGHTING BUT MUSE A TUGS MUSE B’S HAIR AND MUSE B ACCIDENTALLY MOANS HAHA COOL 

THIS.

honestly, feel free to throw ideas at me.

my current muse is Marinette Hallows, who has Danielle Rose Russell as a fc. but i’m absolutely open to making a new muse, though i really only play girls.

[bangtantannie]

The Dance

Word Count: 3K

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, featuring Jimin and NCT’s Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Yuta

Genre: High School! AU, Fluff

Rating: Mature (just for... stronger swearing)

Warning: Use of swear words

A/N: HELLO I AM BACK FROM THE DEAD (Only temporarily, college is beating my ass like no tomorrow TT) Anyway! This is for the absolutely wonderful, AMAZING, perfect little bby @ultmay who sent in MY FIRST EVER REQUEST. I hope I did your request justice love, I really appreciate and love you and I hope you appreciate and love this little one shot in return. This is also my first attempt at fluff y’all, don’t attack me if you didn’t get cavities from the lack of sweetness I’m tRYIng.

You can find the request here.

Do YOU have a request? Pleaseeeee just send an ask! I’ll gladly rise from the dead again to cater to your desires (hopefully I can do them justice)

Enjoy~~~ 

Summary: Once news of a school dance breaks out, Jungkook sees this as an opportunity to ask his best friend and childhood crush, Y/n to the dance and confess his feelings.

It started with that stupid dance. As soon as his teacher had made the announcement of a school dance, an idea taken from western schools to promote interaction within the student body, Jungkook perked up. This was his chance to finally confess to Y/n. It was the final stretch of the school year and he almost couldn’t believe his first year of high school was almost over. The school dance was mainly meant for third-year students as it would do good for them to let loose with the people they suffered the last three years with and celebrate the end of exam season, but the school deemed it unfair to exclude the younger students.

Jungkook’s head turned the instant he noticed Jaehyun turning toward him. He felt something within him snap when the familiar dimple made its way onto his pale cheek as his eyebrows danced above his mischievous eyes. He made a motion to throw his eraser at Jaehyun’s face, feeling a sadistic sense of satisfaction when Jaehyun flinched slightly. If Jaehyun thought that was the end of it, he was sadly mistaken because the second their homeroom teacher dismissed them for the day, Jaehyun’s head was met with a smack that had some poor kid in the front of the room flinching from the resulting thwack.

“SON OF A-“ Jaehyun said loudly, stopping just before he could say something he would regret since the teacher had yet to fully make his exit from the buzzing classroom. Girls were whispering gleefully, some boys wore looks of hopelessness, others nervousness. “That hurt you bitch.” Jaehyun hissed, wincing as he rubbed the throbbing portion of his head.

“You deserved it you bastard.” Jungkook responded coolly, popping a small rice cracker into his mouth. A post-school snack was a must, he needed to reward himself for making it through the day.

“You are gonna ask Y/n to the dance right?” Jaehyun asked, his eyes deceivingly innocent.

Jungkook shrugged, “Gotta see if she wants to go with anyone first.”

“What are you even talking about, you idiot.” Jaehyun snatched a cracker from the small package in Jungkook’s hand, ignoring the glare pointed at him. “Of course she would want to go with you. You’re both like head over heels for each other.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “Not this shit again.”

“It’s true, and really think about how you’re gonna ask her, because she’s one of the pretty ones in this school, and someone’s gonna snatch her up if you aren’t fast enough.” Jaehyun waved his hand in farewell as he left the classroom.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Jungkook walked quietly, mulling over Jaehyun’s words for the past few weeks. The dance was just two days away, and he knew if he didn’t ask Y/n today, he would be pulling a dick move if he asked her tomorrow. Putting a girl under the pressure of finding a dress and coordinating colors and all that other stuff – you might as well tell her to jump off a bridge or something.

In his backpack was a small tulip he had picked up on the walk to school. The looks he received from the florist were absolutely humiliating. He could barely look the woman in the eye without seeing her erupt in little giggles. He probably thought he was going to ask some girl out or something – she wasn’t exactly wrong, but not exactly spot on either.

“What’s got your heads up in the clouds Kook?” A familiar voice filled his ears.

Jungkook’s eyes lifted, meeting Jimin’s curious eyes. “Jimin-ssi.” Jungkook said habitually.

“AISH It’s hyung you little shit.” Jimin scolded, giving Jungkook’s head a quick smack. Jungkook knew Jimin didn’t really mind the nickname, after all it stuck after the second year of their friendship. Jimin easily slung an arm over Jungkook’s shoulders, adjusting his pace to meet Jungkook’s. “So, are you gonna ask Y/n to the dance today?” Jimin asked loudly.

Jungkook quickly shoved his hands over Jimin’s mouth, looking around as if Jimin confessed his greatest sin for everyone to hear. “Will you shut up?”

“So are you gonna ask her?” Jimin asked again after Jungkook hesitantly uncovered Jimin’s plush lips. Jungkook shuffled awkwardly, hiding behind his fringe. “Daebak. You are! Oh Jungkook.” Jimin wrapped his arm against Jungkook’s neck, putting in some sort of headlock. “THAT’S MY BOY.” Jimin praised him, dragging him down the sidewalk.

“Agh, hyung you’re choking me.” Jungkook said, feeling the sweet oxygen leave his lungs.

“Oops, sorry. I’m just a bit excited.” Jimin

“Well, don’t be. She might say no.” Jungkook grumbled. Hopefully the rose was still intact in his backpack.

“What do you mean she could say no? She’s practically in love with you.” Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Well, she wants Yuta to ask her to the dance.” Jungkook said, falling into step with Jimin.

“It’ll be fine okay, you’re gonna ask her, she’s gonna say yes, and then next thing you know BAM. You’re married.” Jimin said, grinning towards Jungkook just as they walked through the gates of the school.

The sight of a familiar figure ahead made the pair freeze at the gate. In the middle of the courtyard stood Y/n’s small figure, her face shell-shocked as Yuta held a scarily large bouquet of red roses in front of her. Behind him stood his friends holding a banner with some corny way to ask Y/n to the dance, but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to read it.

Jimin looked at Jungkook hesitantly, physically wincing when he was met with the dictionary definition of utter heartbreak. “I’m sorry man.”

Silently, Jungkook reached into his backpack to pull out the tulip, dropping it on the floor in disappointment, “Don’t be, she got what she wanted in the end.” Jungkook pushed past the crowd that formed around Y/n and Yuta, bitterly making his way into the building.

------------------------------------------------------------

Jungkook panted as he hopped the fence dividing his property and Y/n’s. His jaw clenched just thinking about that stupid dance.

Jungkook was confused when he saw Momo on Yuta’s arm instead of Y/n. All eyes were on the pair, and they couldn’t get enough of the attention. Whispers of “Where’s Y/n” were shared among every group. When Yuta and Momo finally met up with the rest of his little posse, they made a huge spectacle. The boys cheered and Yuta basked in their antics. Jungkook had the displeasure of standing right beside the group, having to watch their stupid little handshakes and bro hugs.

Yuta turned to Taeyong, who was silently watching from his place against the wall. “I did it, now cough up the cash.”

Taeyong sighed, “She’s just a first year Yuta. It wouldn’t have killed you to do something nice for once. You knew how much she liked you.”

Yuta waved off his remark “Yeah yeah, save your little speech for someone that actually cares I-“

All Jungkook saw was red. How dare he. Y/n was bouncing off the walls when Yuta asked her to the dance. She was practically glowing, and constantly fussing over how she should do her hair, her makeup. Hell she was even worried the beautiful dress she was planning to wear was too childish. Jungkook couldn’t help himself, and his rage took over him for a short moment. The next thing he knew, Yuta was on the floor, rubbing his jaw as some teacher yanked him by the collar and quite literally threw him out of the dance.

All Jungkook could think about was Y/n, and how heartbroken she must be, waiting for Yuta, who would never be ringing that doorbell to take her to the dance.

Hesitantly, Jungkook sat beside Y/n, who was curled into herself. The only signs of her heartbreak was her quivering shoulders and the little sniffle. Out of habit, his arm moved to come around her, but he dropped it on the grass behind her after thinking better of it. Jungkook only found it in him to wrap her in a one-armed hug when she delicately placed her head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of her tears seep into his suit.

“He never came.” Y/n croaked, her throat dry from the tears that she worked so hard to fight back fifteen minutes before the dance would officially be starting.

Jungkook sighed, opting not to say anything. Instead, he rubbed small circles onto her bare shoulder and nuzzled his cheek into the side of her head. He wasn’t a very physical person, but he would be stupid to think Y/n didn’t need a hug right then.

After a while, Jungkook got tired of wallowing in Y/n’s sadness. This wasn’t Y/n, and he wanted the girl that protected his glorious mountain in the sandbox in elementary school back.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jungkook said, pulling Y/n up with him. He rolled his eyes when Y/n whined in protest and pouted down at him. That’s right, Jungkook had yet to hit his growth spurt and Y/n had quite a few centimeters on him right now. “What the point in crying over some senior that never talked to you anyway. I was afraid he was up to no good when he suddenly asked you to that dance anyway.” Jungkook grumbled, scrolling through his phone. Once he found what he was looking for, he walked to the large tree in the yard, switching on the fairy lights Y/n and Jungkook used to decorate the ancient tree when they were little.

“Way to rub it into my face that I’ve been stupid all this time Kook,” Y/n laughed wryly to herself as she tried to subtly tried to wipe her tears away. Now that the darkness was gone, her puffy eyes were evident.

Jungkook glared softly at her. He grabbed her hands and yanked her closer to him, practically making her fall into him. Then, he placed her hands on his shoulders, and he placed his hands on her waist. He tapped the screen on his phone and started forcing Y/n to sway with him as the first notes of a Y/n’s favorite song filled the air.

“Jungkook?” Y/n asked, swaying awkwardly to the forceful movements Jungkook called “slow dancing”.

“What?” Jungkook snapped. He couldn’t let Y/n know that he had no idea how to dance. She would never let him hear the end of it.

“What are we doing?” Y/n asked, knowing that Jungkook was flustered. She appreciated the efforts he was going to cheer him up. She knew he never danced a single step in his life, and here he was, trying to lead her in a slow dance.

“I figured, I’d just bring that stupid dance here. You’re all dressed up and everything and I don’t wanna hear you whining later that you didn’t get to put it to any use.” Jungkook mumbled, avoiding Y/n’s eyes.

Y/n let out a little giggle “Thank you Jungkookie. I probably look like a mess right now.”

Jungkook took in Y/n’s state. Mascara ran down in faint black streaks down her cheeks, the curls in her hair had fallen limp to match her downcast demeanor. She refused to meet his gaze but her large eyes were glossy from the tears and puffy from the crying that had occurred before he arrived. Lip gloss on her soft, pouty was almost completely wiped away. He couldn’t help but whisper under his breath, “You look perfect”.

Y/n met his eyes in shock. Quickly, she took in his features as if she were looking at him for the first time. His cheeks still had a little baby fat, but nonetheless still looked relatively slim and extremely soft. His doe eyes reflected the all the lights in the yard, looking like little stars in a galaxy solely made of all that is her childhood crush Jungkook. Her reflection was easy to see in the dark depths of his eyes. “You’re lying.”

Jungkook shook his head in a rapid fashion. “Well.. damn I didn’t think it would go like this,” He muttered, but Y/n heard it clearly. Her heart started to skip a beat, all she could feel in her ears is the pounding of her heart. “Y/n, I like you… a lot. I think I’ve liked you ever since you punched Jaehyun when he was stepping on my mountain in the sandbox in elementary school. And I was going to ask you to the dance so that I could tell you all of this now, but Yuta beat me to it. Before I was blaming Yuta for asking you first, but there’s only me to blame. Jaehyun told me to ask you the day the very day this dance was going to happen was announced, but I was scared. I was scared you were gonna say no because I knew you wanted to be asked by Yuta even if he’s never even looked at you at school before. I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I like when your nose scrunches a bit when you laugh and when you hum quietly along to the radio in the car because you don’t think anyone hears you, but I just really like you. You are so strong and brave. You’re always standing up for those that are being bullied and you’re not afraid to do what you think is right. You make me want to be a better person, so that I could be someone that can proudly stand by your side and support you when you’re too busy supporting someone else.” To say his confession shocked Y/n into silence was an understatement. She simply started at him, mouth gaping – the slow dance long forgotten. Jungkook ruffled his hair, fixing it to hide his eyes behind his bangs, “But- um- yeah. SO I like you a lot and you really don’t have to say anything but I mean it wouldn’t hurt to get an answer? YOU could take-“Jungkook started to ramble out of nervousness, his cheeks started to flush and sweat was starting to drip down his face.

Y/n couldn’t help herself, and she was afraid Jungkook would talk himself to death, eager to hear her answer yet not hear it at the same time. So, she opted for the fastest, but most effective way to shut him up – kissing him. She went in full force and smashed her lips – and the rest of her face- against his.

Jungkook’s eyes widened in shock, and quickly pulled away. “Son of a bitch – OW”. He clenched his mouth in pain. Y/n wasn’t sufficing any better, she clutched her own mouth in pain. Too much force went into that kiss, and she was pretty sure she bit the hell out of Jungkook’s bottom lip all while smashing her teeth against his. When they met eyes, laughter came over them as if they were possessed.

“You’re a terrible kisser.”

“Well, you’re a shitty dancer. Not all of us can get what we want.”

--------------------------------------------------------

Jungkook fidgeted nervously. Jimin sighed for the nth time, nudging him harshly in the gut with his elbow. “Will you stop that, you’re starting to make me nervous and we’re not even here for me.”

“Shut up Jimin-ssi­.” Jungkook retorted, the casual tone coming out smoother than silk.

“Aish this kid,” Jimin muttered to himself, but they both knew Jungkook heard him loud and clear. “You shouldn’t even be so nervous. If she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life with someone as sad as you she would’ve said no ages ago.”

“Whatever hyung.” Jungkook said, shifting the weight on his feet and putting his hands into his pockets for the fiftieth time.

Jimin was just about ready to smack his best friend to next year at this point. Just as Jimin was really going to smack Jungkook when he shifted anxiously on his feet again, the notes of a very familiar tune echoed throughout the venue. Jungkook and Y/n had decided to spice things up for their wedding, Y/n picked the song that would play for the processional, Jungkook got to pick the song for their first dance. Turns out Y/n had chosen one of Jungkook’s favorite songs. Soon, the double doors opened, letting the line of couples walk down the aisle. Before he knew it, the entire wedding party had completed their entrances. Now, they just had to wait for Y/n.

The brief ten second wait was agonizing for Jungkook. He was just itching to see Y/n, seeing as he had missed her immensely since they separated last night. Jungkook’s breath was stolen when his doe eyes met with Y/n’s glossy ones. She was absolutely stunning. Her dress carefully molded to her beautiful body, her lengthy hair was swept up into an intricate updo, with a few strands curling gently to frame her petite face. Her lips were painted a with a nude color, her eyes were outlined flawlessly with eyeliner. The hollows of her cheeks were prominent and there was a soft blush placed on the apple of said cheeks. Although her face was made up quite beautifully, it had nothing on the large smile that spread on her face the instant her eyes met Jungkook’s. Her eyes lit up with love and adoration for the man at the end of the aisle, and the everyone in the venue had to be blind to miss the love they shared. She was glowing, and Jungkook wouldn’t even dream of looking away from the view before him.

The ceremony was a blur, and it wasn’t until they needed to say their vows that Jungkook started to focus again. Jungkook squeezed Y/n’s smaller hands, even going as far as to caress her soft skin. He looked deeply into her eyes, replaying all his memories with her: the day he met her when she hid behind her mother’s skirt with only her eyes peeking out, that awkward phase of puberty where they had stopped talking, to the fated day that sealed their relationship: the school dance in high school. Jungkook had memorized his vows to a tee, but there was an inkling to just… wing it. Jungkook, opened his mouth, the words caught in his throat.

“It started with that stupid dance.”

[classroom-catastrophe]

So far, rogue is working

I am almost done with all my lesson plans for next week! Normally, I don’t get the plans emailed to me until Thursday evening so this little jump-start is nice. Especially considering I’m having a half-day on Friday so I won’t be able to make any copies on Friday. I’m going to try to get it all done tomorrow after school :) That way I can just enjoy my weekend!

As a side note, I had a very challenging day today personally/emotionally. I had a panic attack for the first time in a long time this past weekend (thanks to the newest movie in the Saw series coming out soon - ugh). Ever since then, I’ve had a hard time sleeping. My husband had to wake me up one night because I was screaming in my sleep. So of course, last night I tossed and turned all night. I kept having this repeating dream that I was making coloring worksheets for my students with the mask on it (like seriously WHY). Then this morning, I was innocently scrolling through people’s Snapchat stories and BAM! There the mask was again. So I had ANOTHER panic attack this morning. Somehow I managed to pull myself together and continue getting ready for work. But I swear I couldn't stop shaking the whole time. If I took sick days, I probably would’ve taken one today. All throughout school today the image kept popping up in my mind at random times and I would have to take deep breaths to calm down.

I’m just more frustrated with myself than anything else. I feel like I have to avoid simple tasks such as TV and social media now. And I’m also annoyed that this is messing with my sleep, which I normally LOVE sleeping. It’s just that 2 panic attacks in one week is really messing with my head.

Why can’t they just stop making those horrible movies already?

[caralately]

on perspective and being perceptive

I recently took a trip to Southeast Asia, in which I hit up Vietnam and Thailand for 2 weeks each.  In my last few days in Vietnam, I decided to take a cooking class.  I googled “Hoi An cooking class” and found this one.  It came well-recommended online, they had dates and times that suited my schedule, had a nice location, and it was very reasonably priced.  Bam.  Done.  

Since I had time (and a camera I desperately wanted to use as much as possible), I signed up for the market tour that took place immediately before the class.  So, bright and early on a Tuesday morning, I found myself in the tour company’s office, killing time and scrolling thru my phone, checking on the news (as I do).  I was seeing the typical CNN and NYT posts about presidential appointees, who’s meeting with whom, updates on recount efforts, and a continued supply of explanations about why the Democratic party screwed up the campaigns and how.  You know, last year’s normal stuff.

As I perused, I must have let out some sort of noise - a snort, a gasp, a groan, I don’t know, it could have been any number of things.  Lord knows the news inspires lots of noises.  Anyway, I made a noise.  A woman sitting next to me must have noticed my noise and my phone and asked me, in English, “So how are things with Donald Trump?”

This woman, Madeline* from Quebec, and I delighted in a few minutes of unabashed opinion-sharing.  Neither of us were particularly well-versed in the recent political history to have much to say on things like NAFTA, NATO, TPP, the UN, the ACA, or the DAPL (acronyms much?), but we had plenty to say on the more layman’s-like verbiage spewing from Twitter and stolen soundbites.  To release some frustrations and hear a bit of sympathy was, I must admit, nice.

Our pity party was interrupted by our tour guide announcing that our market tour was about to start, so we bundled up and headed out.  Over the course of the next hour, while we sampled dragonfruit, sticky rice, and mango cakes, snapped pictures of beheaded chickens, swimming eels, and cow livers, Madeline and I continued our conversation, which had changed from American politics to our experiences in other countries.

Naturally, I found plenty of opportunities to regale her with tales of my African travels, which started out innocently…  

“Wow, you were in Africa for 3 years?!  How often did you get sick?”  

“Actually, not that often.”  

And then became a bit of a nuisance…

“That’s strange, it’s so dirty over there.”  

“Um, it’s really not that dirty.  You just have to be careful.”  

“Do they even have soap?”

Oh, Madeline.  Come on, girl.

When we hit the fruit stacks, it continued.

“I bet you got a lot of fruit in Gambia.  It’s always warm there.”

“It was very seasonal, but yeah - I could get fruit pretty easily.”

“What kinds?”

“Bananas, mangoes, oranges - those were the most common.”

“I would be scared to eat those.  Weren’t you worried about parasites?”

No comment.

The tour was winding down, and we had turned to the spice portion of the visit.  We got the whole rundown of turmeric, garlic, ginger, and lemongrass use in both cooking and natural medicine.  Hot ginger, lemon and turmeric tea for the sniffles?  Yes please!  Ooo-ing and ahhh-ing over the fantastic benefits (and smells), I mused, “That’s a great idea, I’ll have to try it when I get a cold!”

“Do you even have Asian groceries in Minnesota?”

“Sure we do, but you can find these things in regula—“

“Oh, I thought you just had Mexicans.”

*facepalm*

I’ve long been an advocate for traveling.  I’ve always loved airports, wanted my family to get a cabin so we could go to it over the summer, and taken just about every opportunity to pack up and go.  Traveling is the only way you can truly understand the world, I think.  Only by going beyond familiarity can you grow, and travel certainly does that.

And in my travels, I’ve met some of the most intelligent, thoughtful, interesting people I’ve dared imagine existed.  Because, friends, it takes a certain type of person to leave familiarity.  And they’re usually wicked fun to talk to.

But then, I’ve met people like Madeline, who, despite her willingness to leave familiarity, choose to retain a familiar mindset, lens, and world view.  People like Madeline who cling to a singular fact or idea and refuse to release it.  People who think that Minnesota has so many Mexicans we can’t stock ginger and lemongrass in our grocery stores.

I am often guilty of assuming that, just because someone finds themselves in another country, they’re some sort of wide-eyed wanderer, someone who can traverse cultural boundaries with ease, empathize with and understand every soul they cross.  I know a few people like this.  Quite a few, actually.  I try to be one (“try” being the operative word here).  But sometimes, I am disappointed.

I am disappointed when I see people unable to gain perspective.  The water wasn’t hot in your hotel room?  Must mean terrible management.  Or lazy workers.  Or neglected equipment.

Or does it mean the sun wasn’t out much that day and their solar didn’t get charged up?

I am disappointed when I hear close minded remarks.  The waitress hasn’t come to take your order?  Must mean she’s poorly trained.  Or doesn’t care about her job.  Or she’s just dumb.

Or does it mean she’s used to people flagging her down because that’s how it’s done in her culture?

I am disappointed when I witness a lack of self reflection.  That taxi driver was rude to me.  Must mean he’s careless about professionalism.  Or thinks lowly of other people.  Or just a plain old jerk.

Or does it mean you didn’t say hello when you got in the taxi, a social nicety expected in his country?

See, just because you travel and have seen new parts of the world, doesn’t instantly give you perspective.  You have to work at it.  You have to be willing to think outside yourself, put yourself in a new mindset, humble yourself, watch others, and adapt appropriately.  

And when you’re done with all that, you should be able to draw on your experiences and figure out that America does not equal only Mexican grocery stores.

*pseudonym