aestheticoftheday

[fenmere]

@girldragongizzard worldbuilding: The effects of the dracomorphosis

We need to sit down and decide just what happens to the world due to the dracomorphosis, if we intend to write further in the series. Especially if we start jumping ahead in future years.

Clearly, the dracomorphosis is the most obvious point at which our fictional world diverges from the Real World AU. But we've worked out some events that predate that, too. And the Artists have existed since the beginning of the planet. But this is all to say, we have given ourselves license to change a lot.

spoilery stuff:

Up until August of this year (2024) everything seemed to be going the way it has been going in the Real World AU, including the Trump v.s. Harris presidential race and the genocide of the Palestinians (and all the other genocides around the world).

Meghan talks about this a little in her books.

---

Here are the rules we given ourselves to work with:

The Earth is a plural system with a collective identity that most of us cannot fathom or communicate with, even though we're all members in it.

The dracomorphosis is supposed to be a change for the better, from the Earth's point of view. It is a reaction to the sixth mass extinction, with the goal of priming evolution.

The dracomorphosis has been altered by humanity to become something that could save humanity from the looming global disasters (and from themselves).

Rhoda, being the Bellweather/Lucid Dreamer, has made a proclamation that her life should not be interrupted by anyone's bullshit any more. This itself pushes the direction of global events in a particular direction of not creating problems that effect her.

Fairport is a bubble of lesser conflict, thanks to the Fenverse.

None of the above are perfect factors, and there are still plenty of events that stand out or contradict these trends or motives. There's pushback from people in power who are losing it.

---

Some of the effects of this:

The galvanizing effect of having neighborhood dragons has resulted in record election turnouts globally. This means that in the U.S., there's a blue wave and we avoid a Trump presidency. It also means that mass protests pick up again, and cannot be quelled by the police.

The fact that there are more dragons among the populace of any culture and country than amongst the governments means that people have more power to fight for and protect their own rights in a variety of ways. Especially since it turns out that an adult dragon who knows what they're doing is often a match for a military vehicle.

There are some dragons in the militaries and police forces of the world, but they get targeted fairly quickly by the rest of the dragons.

Meanwhile, many governments try to control dragons legally by folding them into the laws. Some new laws are passed, but also a lot of that decision making ends up being in favor of dragons being citizens and having their own rights.

Some dragons do find themselves going to court. Or, at least, having outstanding warrants.

What this means for Meghan and her child:

Meghan owes taxes and can still qualify for SNAP and Medicaid.

By the end of 2026, Medicaid and Medicare cover veterinarian care for dragons.

Meghan has to register the hatching her child and fill out a birth certificate. This happens before the new sex marker of "D" is established, so her child gets an "X" first. This can lead to a heated discussion about whether gender markers should even exist.

Meghan has to fill out a birth certificate that doesn't accommodate the diverse lineage and parentage of a dragon, listing herself as mother, and Rhoda as father, even though the only fathers her child has are Joel and Anurak. All the other parents are either mothers or non-binary parents.

Meghan's child has to go to school, or be home schooled, and by the time she's old enough to go to school there are a handful of dragon schooling programs.

Meghan, being in Fairport and close to Rhoda, has avoided all the worst legal pitfalls so far.

Meghan's child is going to have to reconcile her own instinctual drive to set out and find her own territory at an early age with the governmental classification of being a child and needing to stay with her parents and go to school.

[dfroza]

we’re all in a tiny bit of a space of time

(the in-between)

waiting for the birthing of a new world where all things are restored (healed) by Love’s power. Love will fully cleanse all illusion and every form of a lie to restore True nature.

but the world we now live in is an anxious world. it can be fearful. some people lose hope and fall into depression. looking at this world instead of a heavenly world can cause this. this world isn’t “Home” but the heart longs to be there. some sense this even before knowing the truth of it. we’re born into a cursed world that is ruled by man’s pride and a darkness that opposes the Light of our Creator.

and so we must live our lives in hope, finding our unique purpose. part of this as the Body is the conservation of the spiritual truth of rebirth because death isn’t natural, it is an enemy. life in Love actually never ends…

A portion of Paul’s ancient Letter of Colossians that points to viewing life through baptism eyes:

If then you were raised with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth. For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is our life appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory.

Therefore put to death your members which are on the earth: fornication, uncleanness, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. Because of these things the wrath of God is coming upon the sons of disobedience, in which you yourselves once walked when you lived in them.

But now you yourselves are to put off all these: anger, wrath, malice, blasphemy, filthy language out of your mouth. Do not lie to one another, since you have put off the old man with his deeds, and have put on the new man who is renewed in knowledge according to the image of Him who created him, where there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcised nor uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave nor free, but Christ is all and in all.

Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering; bearing with one another, and forgiving one another, if anyone has a complaint against another; even as Christ forgave you, so you also must do. But above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfection. And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom, teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord. And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.

Wives, submit to your own husbands, as is fitting in the Lord.

Husbands, love your wives and do not be bitter toward them.

Children, obey your parents in all things, for this is well pleasing to the Lord.

Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged.

Bondservants, obey in all things your masters according to the flesh, not with eyeservice, as men-pleasers, but in sincerity of heart, fearing God. And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance; for you serve the Lord Christ. But he who does wrong will be repaid for what he has done, and there is no partiality.

The Letter of Colossians, Chapter 3 (New King James Version)

Family ties are important on earth (A family Tree) when there is trust and faithfulness. A husband and wife are meant to be faithful to One another until death. marriage on earth is a deeply significant bond (a covenant made between a man & a woman) which is our Creator’s design. fornication and adultery as sex outside of this covenant becomes sinful behavior and it destroys trust. it destroys family. we need to know spiritual truth because the body itself belongs to our Creator just as the spirit inside.

Love is a renewal of the heart & mind to see its truth

(Clarity)

our heavenly Father is seeking sons & daughters who are reborn in Light

do you see the significance of writing?

(there is deep work in this in its “labor” and much patience)

from Today’s email by Israel365:

I have experienced countless things that have given me glimpses of God’s glory here on earth. I remember the first time my child reached up to grasp my hand when taking his first unsteady steps. I clearly saw God in that moment.

Rabbi Abraham ibn Ezra (1089 – 1167 Spain) taught that it is possible to know God through nature, which encapsulates the wonder of God’s Creation. Twice a day, at sunrise and sunset, the first days of Creation can be experienced.

And nature praises God simply by performing His will, constantly and in an unwavering fashion.

[libra-kirishima]

Mirio and his wife(he dead ass proposed to y/n at UA graduation) How would Mirio’s dad react to being told he’s going to be a grandpa? I wanna get a cavity from the Fluffy sweet content.Oh oh oh and what if they did the headphone challenge where they tell him word for word while listening to music at a high volume.💕🌸😫✨🌿💜 PLSSS

I'm so glad we all agree that Mirio gets married straight out of high school.

When Mirio proposed to you just seconds after you both graduated, it was assumed by almost all of your classmates that it was because you were pregnant. Only Tamaki knew that Mirio had been saving the money from his work-study to buy you a nice engagement ring since your first date. It was only Tamaki who knew that he purchased that ring almost a year ago and had been hiding it in his sock drawer waiting for the right moment. It was also only Tamaki who knew Mirio wanted to propose at the graduation ceremony.

And he did. The very moment after you both launched your graduation caps into the air, he reached under his robe to pull the ring box from his slacks while you weren't looking. The surprised look on your face when you turned back to him was something Mirio plays back in his head every day. You turned to ask him if he'd want to come back to your dorm after the ceremony, and your eyes were met not with the chest of your boyfriend as you'd expected, but a brilliant ring in a velvet box that you absolutely adored. The tears began to flow before he could even finish his speech about how much he loved you, and couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life loving you.

Fittingly, only Tamaki knew that this wasn't a shotgun wedding, brought on by Mirio unexpectedly getting you pregnant. Though the two of you were completely unaware of this wide held assumption. It took Mirio's father asking when the baby was due to finally dawn on the two of you, several months after the wedding, that most people assumed the marriage was brought on by a baby coming. It was that evening that you and Mirio sat down together and made the decision to wait at least until you were both 25 to think about starting a family.

The positive pregnancy test in your hands at 19 was hardly unexpected, but still a huge surprise. You and he had both been so busy that you had gotten sloppy with your birth control, and the moment you both had an overlapping day off you made the most of it.

"Making the most of it' is such an understatement." You muttered to yourself. "We certainly made something." Though as panicked as you were, when you told your husband the news he was overjoyed. Before you could even finish your sentence, he was lifting you up by your waist and spinning you around. All the stress in you melted away as you saw the excitement in his eyes at the thought of him being a father.

"-We'll have to move to make room for the baby. And I guess that gives us the chance to think about what school we want to send them to and how their school schedule will fit in with our work schedules. I don't want you to put too much stress on yourself so maybe Tamaki will help us. I bet he'll be excited to find out. What color should the nursery be? I don't know if you want to decide that before or after we know the sex of the baby. Is it sexist to color a nursery based on the baby's gender? What about purple or yellow? Oh, or maybe green or orange! What do you want to name them? Is it too early to start thinking about that? And how are we gonna tell our families?" Mirio's rambling stops after that final question and his eyes widen. "Oh my god how are we gonna tell my dad!?"

"Do you think he'll take it poorly?"

"No he seemed really excited last year when he thought you were pregnant."

"Then there's nothing to worry about." You reassured him, prompting him to have a seat. He followed your suggestion and sat himself on one of your dining room chairs. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind and placed a soft kiss to his cheek.

It was four days later that he came up with the idea. Deciding to take a break from looking for a place with two bedrooms, you busied yourself with something else as he aimlessly scrolled through social media.

"That's it!!!" You heard him shout from your place in the kitchen.

"Did you find a place you liked?" You shouted back. He burst into the kitchen to join you.

"No, even better!" He answered, padding over to you with excitement in each step.

"You decided what color you wanted the nursery to be?"

"No, but I have a really strong feeling that it's a boy and I think we should go with blue and yellow."

"And what if it's a girl?" You asked with a small giggle. He froze and allowed himself to think it over.

"Blue is a gender neutral color." He finally responded. You muttered a soft 'good answer', but it was lost as he continued with "But I swear that it'll be a boy. Didn't you say something about a cancer's intuition?"

"Hey that's serious stuff. Don't joke about that." You argued.

"Exactly!" He insisted. "Wait what did I come in here for?" You shrugged your shoulders, which prompted him to leave the kitchen and return to the living room. Shortly thereafter he returned to the exact spot he stood in the kitchen, lost in thought. You could tell he was retracing his steps. "-so then I got excited and came to talk to (y/n) and she asked if I decided what color I wanted the nursery to be- Oh! I can just check my phone!" You laughed to yourself as he pulled out his phone to resume scrolling. He found what he was looking for and brought it over to show you.

A video of an older couple wearing headphones blasting loud music. They were being told by their daughter that they were going to be grandparents, and you watched as they tried to piece together what they were being told. Once the father figured it out, he leaped out of his seat with joy.

"So that's what you want to do with your dad?"

"Yes, please." He answered. "Next week?"

"No." You answered, pointing your finger at him. He pouted at your response, which you elected to disregard. "You will wait until the second trimester and you will like it."

"You can make me wait until the second trimester, but you can't make me like it." He answered. Crossing your arms, you raised one brow at him with a sharp glare. "Fine, I'll like it!" He sighed, causing you to grin.

To Mirio, the first trimester went at a snail's pace. He was eager to meet his baby boy and even more so to tell others about him. He wanted so desperately for these 40 weeks to be over. At the five month mark, he couldn't drive you to your doctor's office fast enough. Not even trying to hide the eagerness in finding out the sex of the baby.

"I told you he was gonna be a boy!" Mirio told you excitedly as you walked back to your car. "See, Cancer intuition!" You laughed at his enthusiasm over correctly guessing the sex of your baby.

"I think that was just wishful thinking." You joked. "You didn't do anything."

"No, I'm definitely psychic."

"Okay then Mister-Psychic-Intuition. Will he be a Virgo or a Libra?"

He tapped his chin as he thought over your question. You knew he wasn't as into this stuff as you were, but he still devoted a lot of effort into his prediction.

"I think he'll be a Leo." He answered as he drove out of the parking lot.

"Do you want to go tell your dad now?" You asked. His eyes lit up at the sound of your question and immediately changed course to his dad's house. "Great!"

Mirio didn't even knock and wait to be let in. He saw the light on, noted that his father was home, and used his key to let the two of you in as quickly as possible.

"Dad!" He called from the doorframe. In all his excitement, he nearly forgot to remove his shoes. Mirio's dad scrambled to his feet from where he was sitting on the couch, believing that his son was in some kind of danger. "No sit back down, we're going to play a game."

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine, don't worry. But sit down, it's game time."

He sat down, but remained both concerned and confused as his son sat across from him, prompting you to do the same.

"How are you?" You asked him.

"Just fine, thank you (Y/N). How about yourself?"

"I'm great, thank you. Do you have any exciting plans for this weekend?"

"Not really. I have errands to run but nothing else on the agenda. What about yourse-"

"I FOUND THEM!" Mirio shouts from upstairs. You hardly thought to ask where he had gone to, instead making polite conversation with his father. Your husband barrelled down the stairs a moment later, triumphantly holding up his old headphones from when he was in high school. "I thought I left them here!" Mirio wastes no time in running him through the rules of the whisper challenge and putting the headphones over his ears with music playing loud enough to block out what you were saying. Mirio looked at you then back at him with a big smile. He and his dad flashed each other a thumbs up.

"Can you hear me?" You asked. No response. "Okay good start." You then turned to Mirio. "Can I film this?" You asked, although you didn't wait for an answer before you pulled your phone out and opened the camera.

"You're going to be a grandparent." Mirio stated, doing his best to annunciate every syllable.

"Do you want spinach?" His dad guessed. Mirio shook his head.

"You're going to be a grandparent." You echoed.

"Shorts? Do you want to wear shorts?"

"You are going to be a grandfather."

"You want me to what?"

Your husband shook his head and decided to take over.

"You are" Mirio stated.

"You are" His dad repeated. You both nodded encouragingly.

"Going"

"Going"

You both nodded again.

"To be"

"Crazy! You are going crazy." He guessed. Mirio sighed and shook his head.

"You are going to"

"To! You are going to!"

"Be a"

"Be! You are going to be."

"A grandfather." Mirio finished.

"A- a grandfather! You are going to be a grandfather!" You both nodded excitedly. He repeated to himself. "You are going to be a grandfather. You are- I'm going to be a grandfather?" He pulled the headphones off his ears. "I'm going to be a grandfather?"

"You're going to be a grandfather!" Mirio repeated excitedly. You pulled the ultrasound photos from your jacket pocket and handed them to his dad. "In a few months you get to meet your grandson!" He added, voice shaky from holding back tears.

"You're kidding me!" His dad added, holding back tears of his own. "You're not kidding?" You shook your head. He stood up and engulfed you both in a hug, no longer trying to hold back his tears.

"I'm due somewhere between September 13th and September 22nd."

"Although I think the baby will come a couple weeks early." Mirio added with a soft smile.

And just as he predicted earlier that day, he was right.

[werevulvi]

You know how often I ask myself, why can't I just be normal? It's quite a lot. I wanna talk about something I've never told anyone before, aside from a few strangers online. I've suppressed this my whole life, since childhood. I've acted with anger towards others with the same thing as me, told them how it's offensive and awful. Refused to allow myself to even think about my own urges and desires. It worked for a long time, until I wrote my book this summer, a fiction story about a couple who end up disabled from their dangerous work as assassins. My intentions were just... to try to give good representation and explore something I knew very little about.

So I did a lot of research into my characters' disabilities, and even briefly pretended to have those specific disabilities at home alone, just to get an idea of what it's like to manage daily life with them. It was just a writer's thing, just being a dedicated writer, I told myself, as I researched those disabilities far more in-depth than I did about assassins...

At one point, I would cover my eye with a makeshift eye patch, as one of my main character's loses an eye, and I... it brought forth what I had suppressed my whole life, and I can't suppress it anymore as a result of that. The bottled feelings have escaped and I can't put them back in again.

I think I have Body Integrity Identity Disorder (BIID.) There, I said it.

It's a very rare mental illness that makes you want to become disabled, usually in some very specific way. Most are males, and most desire amputation, but it can pertain to wanting blindness, deafness, or I guess, any conceivable disability. There's only been a few thousand reported cases, but it's also said to be a very secret disorder, so numbers are probably not accurate. It's very poorly researched, poorly understood, and still not recognized as an actual disorder. So you can't be diagnosed with it currently, and there are no set criteria for it. However, it will be in the upcoming ICD-11 (the International Classification of Diseases.) It will then also be re-named to Body Integrity Dysphoria (BID) as it's being recognized as a form of dysphoria, and as a neurological condition.

And now for the obligatory life story:

I don't remember when it started, but as a child, I'd say roughly age 5 or 7, I was obsessed with fictional characters that had a distinct scar over one eye, and either blind in that eye or entirely missing it. I would on occasion play around with a hand covering one eye, and wished I could have that for real. For a long time, I didn't know why I was so obsessed with that. If I was just admiring that kinda physical feature, or wanted it myself, or both. Throughout my teens and adulthood thus far, I've made a lot of drawings of people with only one eye, and scarred faces. I wrote another book back in 2013 with one of the main characters being a woman with a large scar across half her face. I've always been a little too fascinated with facial deformities, having only one eye, and facial assymmetry. And I've tried to express it with assymmetrical makeup looks (not made to look like I'm injured) throughout my teens and 20's.

So it's been with me for a very long time, even though I've tried super hard to suppress it, and tried to tell myself that I should just be happy to have a mostly abled body. But that wish/urge/whatever it is, has never gone away.

When I first heard of BIID, back in 2016 or so, I was angry, and thought of people with it as despicable. I was in deep denial of how much I could relate to them. Didn't want to think of that. But since learning more about the condition, and listening to others who have it, and learning it is actually a real condition... I guess that has helped me eventually come to this point that, well fuck... it me.

Up until recently, I thought it was just a self-harm desire, as I used to be a cutter, but now I understand that the self-harm was not the intention behind what I want with that, but merely the means to achieve it. Kinda like how I wanted to cut my own tits off before I had my double mastectomy. It wasn't about specifically wanting to injure my chest, but to not have tits anymore, and I much preferred the much safer way of doing it, through proper surgery. However, wanting half my face re-arranged is a little bit harder to achieve through elective surgery, even if surgeons were allowed to treat BIID through surgery. So I do not think my desire to get rid of my left eye and surrounding tissues is about wanting to harm myself. It's about wanting to have and live with the result of such an injury. Although I get that might be very unimaginable.

So then, have I ever made any attempts?

Yeah... I have. Once, I think it was when I was 22, I took a blade to my face, but chickened out, and ended up only making a very superficial cut on my cheek, which I was then extremely ashamed of. I didn't want for people to find out I had made it myself. Since then, I've stopped self-harming and have no desire to make a second attempt. I'm scared I'd fuck it up and cause damage I don't want, or... not enough damage. And I'm worried I'd be beyond myself with shame if I would take out my own eye and then other people would show sympathy for my injury, knowing I'd have caused it myself. I just kinda wish it would happen accidentally somehow.

So, to clarify, my BIID targets my left eye and left side of my face. Why left? Honestly because I'm deaf since birth on my left ear, so it would be extremely inconvenient to be deaf on one side and blind on the other. Much more manageable to have one side be blind-deaf and the other fully seeing and hearing. But at first it didn't matter to me so much which side of my face would be affected. I have no desire to become an amputee or fully blind. I also don't have a fetish for disabled people.

Would I date a disabled person?

Yes, but that's because some attractive people just so happen to be disabled, and I wouldn't think I'm particularly judgemental, not that I find their disabilities in and of themselves attractive.

I try to quell this desire, to lose an eye and half my face, by on occasion wearing an eye patch in secrecy. I know it can worsen my vision, but why on Earth would I mind that? It's kinda what I want. But my mom almost caught me wearing it today as she came by for a quick visit, and I have worn it at the grocery store, and out and about in my village. It feels so damn right, yet so fucking wrong...

Let's tackle this question as well: Do I feel like an ass towards disabled people?

Yes and no. Thing is, I'm already disabled myself. I'm not an abled person to begin with. I live on permanent sickness compensation, classified unable to work, for life, with little to no chance at improvement, due to my autism and adhd. I have the energy levels of an old cellphone that drops to 2% battery ten minutes after being fully charged every time. And I hate it. I hate that there's so much in life that I'll probably never be able to do. So disability, is already part of my life, and always has been. So why then would I want to become more disabled, instead of less? Well, yeah that is what I want...

I've faced a shit ton of ableism since childhood, and I actually think that's why I got BIID. Because my actual disability is invisible and not taken seriously in society. And I think that's what I deep down want: to just have my disability be visible and taken seriously. Physical disabilities are taken more seriously. I've even heard that straight from the mouths of people who have both mental and physical disabilities. How often have I not been called lazy for something I've been literally unable to do, just because I "look" capable? How often do I get to hear I "don't seem autistic?" How often do I get told that autism is not even a disability, but merely a personality trait and being socially awkward? How often do I get told I would be able to work if I just tried harder? All. The. Fucking. Time.

I think that's why, ever since I was a child, I've wanted to have a physical disability, which is fully visible, and cannot be ignored. And what's more visible than the face? We interact with it the most. Because I don't really want to be less capable or lose a lot of movement, I just want for my already disabled existence to be visibly disabled.

So that's a big reason for why I think I have BIID. Which is to say, I don't feel like I'm being an ass towards disabled people, because I'm already disabled to begin with, merely wishing I was more disabled and in a more visible way. Had I been abled to begin with, I think that would have been different, but even abled people with BIID don't choose to have this condition. I read a quote from a person with BIID, who got the amputation he wanted, and he said basically that he didn't know what's worse, having BIID or being disabled. I can relate to that. And I think that is the irony here, that simply having BIID is like being disabled in and of itself already.

That said, however, I do understand why disabled people would be greatly offended, angry, or otherwise insulted, by people with BIID. Honestly I cannot understand why they would not be. I'm greatly offended by people who say they wish they were autistic! And I'm offended at myself for wishing I had a facial deformity and only one eye. Why do I want this!? I keep trying to shake sense into myself. It's what's causing my shame and wishing I could just be normal. No disabilities, and no wish for disabilities I don't have. That'd be great.

There is one more aspect I also feel the need to tackle: Transabled.

BIID has recently been rather often labeled as "transabled" in the same vein as "transracial" (wanting to be another race) and transgender. As a transsexual, this comparison is of course something that I have not missed. I'm painfully aware. This is how I see it, alright: Although I do feel like my body integrity dysphoria is incredibly similar to my sex dysphoria, I feel like it would be extremely rude and tone deaf to identify as for example vision impaired, deaf or an amputee, without actually having those disabilities. And I do not know if anyone actually does this. As far as I've seen, some people with BIID may pretend to have the disability they want (like with me walking around with an eye patch despite having no medical need for it) but they don't lie about it, or they try hard to avoid ending up in a situation where they'd feel pressured to lie. So I dunno how much validity there even is in anyone with BIID genuinely identifying as transabled. But regardless of that, I think it's absolutely abhorrent to identify as disabled in ways you are not. And I'd never tell anyone that I'm missing an eye when I do not.

So, I really do not like the term "transabled" and much prefer the BIID and BID terms. I do not like BIID being conflated with being transgender, although I want to very carefully say that the two conditions are so incredibly similar, that... I think that's another big reason I ended up with both. That I've always felt a strong disconnect from my body, which has merely expressed itself in a wide array of ways, ranging from sex dysphoria to body integrity dysphoria, dissociation and even having previously identified as otherkin. I don't think that's a coincidence at all. But then what caused all of that? I don't think there is a simple answer, but a multitude of reasons, and it may even connect with my autism as well as my trauma.

So, I'd say most likely it's caused by a cocktail of neurological and social issues. I was just clearly meant to be a broken person, making the most of my life with the sucky cards I was dealt, and on good days... I guess I'm kinda okay with that. At least it's not boring. Let's end on that not super tragic note. Feel free to ask me anything, if you’ve got any questions.

[camuslittlesister]

I tried Burn Your Fat With Me so you don’t have to

“Burn your fat with me” is a Japanese app that is basically otome meets fitness, which was all the rage when it first came out. I was not looking to lose weight but I wanted to find the motivation to move more and since a lot of my time is spent playing otome I thought it’d be greatly motivating to have to exercise to unlock a romance with a 2D boy. What could possibly go wrong? It turns out, a lot. I downloaded the app and opened the prologue: the love interest/fitness coach is the love child of Tristan Dugray from Gilmore Girls and Hyogo Kaga. I’d like to say it’s not a great idea, but Eisuke Ichinomiya has won the Love365 Election again, even if the margin gets smaller every time. The target audience sure likes that type. I, for one, would spend good money on a HLITF training app where you get your head patted by Goto for being a good girl and sticking to the training plan, with the option of choosing the three meanies as coaches if that’s your thing. I’d take a full army Bootcamp over this teen demon…heck, I’d take Kaga as my lawfully wedded husband over him. I never thought I’d see the day…

I’m 1 minute in, and already want to punch the trashbag (scrap the wedding part, I am Kaga). He asked MC, whom I regret naming after me, what she ate for breakfast. She said a light breakfast, and he bullied her for having two helpings of eggs and bacon. He would have approved of my actual breakfast, so I know I’m undereating, and I guess the app came out before every fitness influencer and their dog was pushing the keto diet so I can’t expect Ieyasu Tokugawa II to be pushing that protein load as a positive.

It also seems that (despite targeting the app at women, a majority of whom are bound to have it as their biological sex from birth), whoever wrote the story has never heard of female hormones. Anyway, the lengthy prologue ends with a motivational speech about discipline and then you are thrown into a sit-up session without any knowledge of how long you’re expected to do it for.

At this point I am still in bed and have to reluctantly take out the mat and forget about putting on exercise clothes, all for one of the least effective ways to exercise the core 😬

The tanuki said I may become a beauty if I lose a little weight, but it doesn’t feel much like motivation to me. I think of the body I’d need to have if I was the lady Takeda and the future of Kai rested on my hips, and I do the forced set and a few more. You have a set amount of points you need to achieve to unlock the story, which increases as you go along, but there is no real indication of how quickly or slowly you should get there. The tanuki’s strategy now is to get what he wants by making it look like the MC is proving him wrong for his statement about how she shouldn’t have passed the fitness requirement for admission to a school she didn’t want to join but was forced on her by a mother even worse than mine.

The fitness lesson tidbit of the 1st chapter is about basal metabolic rate. He wasn’t entirely wrong this time, except the idea that if you build muscle it’ll be harder to put on weight. People didn’t invent scales that separate muscle mass and fat for no reason x_x

We got a blanket ban on snacks without even the diet culture hierarchy of foods, even though I’m pretty sure nutritional advice had evolved in favour of workout-supporting snacks even back when this came out (but if I’m wrong an update is long overdue because it definitely has by now). I’m also not sure a timed session is a good idea for beginners. It sounds like a recipe for injuries, and muscle is built in the tension so the momentum you need to do sit-ups that fast won’t really help.

I missed a few days of training and I was lowkey nervous to see what kind of messages they have if you don’t log in for a while, but it turned out there were none. I then managed a month of consistent daily workouts until the repetitive nature of it won over my desire to see the happy ending. I managed to lose 1.5kg but some of it was, in fact, muscle mass, the very thing I was meant to be building. All in all I think the concept behind it was great, just poorly executed. It’s not even the LI that insults you, it’s the bad exercise plan and even worse nutritional advice. I knew I was getting myself into something problematic and steeped in diet culture, and I’m not here to call that out as it’d be pointless. This app is bad even if you agree with its premise.

[iamtaekooked]

↳PART 2 | PART 1

➾ AU: Enemies to Lovers! + football player!Jeongguk and Journalist!Reader

➾Pairing: Jeongguk x female reader

➾Genre: Fluff, some angst, some soft smut 

➾Rating: 18+

➾Word count Part 2: 17.0k (bringing out combined total to a whopping 34.3k)

➾Warnings {part 2}: drinking, soft smut (making out, nothing detailed or explicit), swearing.

↳Summary:

Jeon Jeongguk is your nemesis whom you carry a strong dislike for. A dislike that borders on hate. He’s cocky, arrogant, narcissistic and loves to think everything revolves around him. When he gets elected as the captain of the football team, you are forced to write a profile on him for the college magazine as is the tradition every time a new captain is selected. But as you follow him around, you come to realize he might not be as bad as you think. Maybe he’s even a little tolerable– and cute. How will you deal with several realizations that dawn on you during the course of your interviews?

A special thank you to @kuzimuzibts @meandyou0901 @ughkive for supporting me through this fic. Without your support and words of encouragement, I couldn’t have done this ❤️ So thank you from the bottom of my heart and I love you guys!

M.List

Jimin being the good friend he is, decided to host a small get together at his house. Of course, you are invited and so are 15 other people. Jimin has always been a caring soul, someone who can’t see the people he loves in distress. So when he gets wind that Jeongguk is stressed out he decides to invite everyone Jeongguk is friends with to throw a surprise “party”.

The responsibility of bringing Jeongguk over to his house falls to you because you are apparently his “girlfriend”. Or at least that is how everyone starts referring to you once the picture of you and Jeongguk outside the bus stop with his arms wrapped around your waist circulates on social media. You are sure it was one of the girls who squealed when they saw him walking by.

At first you try your hardest to diffuse the rumors because you are not his girlfriend, but when the whole world around you seems to be pressing it on you, insisting that you are-- you give up and let them have it. It’s not hurting you in any way so who cares?

But Jeongguk on the other hand loves it. He loves it more than football itself, which is a miracle. Everytime someone calls you his girlfriend in front of him, a wide grin appears on his face— the one where his eyes disappear into moon shaped crescents and his pearly whites are on full display— it also happens to be the one that always brings a smile to your face too. If it were up to him he would change your name to ‘girlfriend’, that way he would get to call you that all the time.

So naturally when you go to find him in the gym, all his teammates offer you polite smiles, and nods. Even Jaehyun offers a soft ‘hi’ in greeting.

“Captain!” one of them yells. “Your girlfriend is here” his voice echoes through the almost empty place.

You open your mouth to tell him to stop calling you that but it wouldn’t accomplish anything. They won’t stop.Up until now, no matter how many times you have corrected people, they have just ignored you and continued to refer to you as “Jeongguk’s girlfriend”.

“Cap!” Jaehyun yells this time craning his neck to where Jeongguk is in a corner of the gym lifting weights. “Your girl is here!”

Jeongguk upon hearing that stops bench pressing and jogs over to you with a sweaty figure and heavy breaths.As soon as his eyes find you his lips curve into a smile. “Hey girlfriend” he greets you and lays a soft kiss on your cheeks before wrapping his arms around you.

“I told you not to call me that” you mumble against his shoulder softly— very gently pulling yourself away from his embrace. Somehow you’ve gotten close enough to allow him to hug you and to allow yourself to not go into a state of utter panic. Ever since he told you he likes you there has been a slight shift in your dynamic-- he’s more touchy and you don’t mind it. Sometimes you even let yourself enjoy it because the feeling of his arms around you makes you feel secure-- like there is nothing in the world that could touch you when he’s with you.

Jeon Jeongguk is the kind of man who just by his mere presence has the ability to make someone next to him look-- but most importantly feel like a billion bucks. That is exactly how you feel when he’s with you because like a magnet he ends up drawing all attention on himself and by default on you.

Sometimes you catch yourself smiling when you’re with him and people are pointing at you both and whispering their envy to each other. It makes you feel a surge of emotions which you can’t define but at the bottom of it all it just feels good.

“What else would I call you?” he pouts.

“Oh, I don’t know? My name maybe? The one I’ve had since birth?” you shake your head. “Anyway, I just came because we need some stuff for the interview. I have a few questions”

He quirks an eyebrow and rubs his hands together. “Oooh. But ‘girlfriend’ sounds a million times better. I am just going to call you that”

You rub your forehead in exasperation. “Should we go somewhere more… suitable. I need to ask you a few questions” you ask straight-faced.

He nods. You notice all his teammates sharing a look and roll your eyes because you know what they are thinking-- sex. That’s all they can ever think of. You ignore them as they pat Jeongguk on the shoulder, or give him words of encouragement like “get it” or high five him. You exit the gym first, not in the mood for their stupidity.

Jeongguk catches up to you and falls into step next to you. “Why do you always leave me behind?”

“Because I don’t like your teammates” you deadpan.

“But you like me?” he asks with a hopeful tone before busting out that stupid smile of his.

“Jeongguk” you say warningly.

“Ok sorry. I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me how much you love me” he winks with a cheeky grin.

“Oh my god” you facepalm.

You hear him snicker and shoot him a dirty look. “Anyway” you try to direct the conversation to serious matters as you take out your recorder one more time as per usual.

“So, you’re back to working on my profile?”

“Unfortunately for me, yes” you say with a small chuckle. “I am not going to let my best friend get dragged into shit by the sports department because of you Jeon”

“Ouch!” he feigns hurt by placing a hand on his chest. “I thought you cared for me” he matches your pace despite being several inches taller than you— which is kind of sweet. But that’s not the point.

“Oh I am sorry” you draw out each word to make sure he didn’t miss the sarcasm in your voice. “Did I make it seem like I did?”

“You’re definitely going to die sad and alone” he muses with a teasing smile.

“I don’t mind that. Now if you’re done, can I continue?”

Go ahead” he offers a soft, gentle smile which makes a pang nervousness rise in your chest.

“So, what does football mean to you?”

“Everything” he doesn’t even hesitate for a single second before answering.

“Care to elaborate?”

“I told you how football is literally the only thing that provides my life with meaning-- exception being you” he glances at you with a small teasing smirk before throwing his hands in the air when he notices you opening your mouth. “I digress. But yes. Playing football is the one thing that gives direction and focus to my life. Without it I would be lost”

You nod deep in thought. “So then, what would you do if you didn’t make it into the football team?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I’d probably still be in the Eastside struggling with trying to find something that allowed me to focus my energy in productive ways”

“So would you say that football is the reason you wake up every morning?” you look up at him, noticing the glint in his eye and the tiny smile spread across his lips.

He nods. “And you” he adds quickly before looking away with a playful grin he thinks you can’t see.

You slap him gently on the arm. “Jeongguk!”

“I’ll stop” he holds hands up in surrender as he turns to look at you.

You both continue walking, turning left here, turning right there.

“Describe in word one word then how you feel when you play football”

“Euphoria” again it doesn’t take him even a second to answer. It’s like he’s been waiting for someone to ask him-- that’s how quickly he answered.

You look at him in question at which point he begins to elaborate without you having to prompt him.

“It’s like a rush. Whenever I am out in the field I am zoomed in, super focused. It’s like tunnel vision. All I see is the ball, and that touchdown line at the end of the field. That’s all I think about when I play. All the hits, all the pushing and shoving kind of pumps me up because it feels like these are the obstacles I have to overcome to get that ball to the endline and score the point. It’s like a metaphor for life, if you know what I mean”

You nod slowly as you comprehend his words. “Wow”

He shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “Always with the look of surprise”

“I am trying to adjust” you snap.

“Anything else you want to know?”

“I think this is good for now” you stop the recording and pocket the tiny thing. “Also, be ready by 5 tonight. We’re going somewhere”

“Wow, so specific” the sarcasm in his voice doesn’t go amiss.

“Yeah Yeah” you wave him off. “Just be ready by 5pm” you turn but he clasps a hand around your wrist and spins you around to make you face him.

“No. You be ready by 5. You’re crazy if you think I won’t come to pick you up”

“You don’t have to” you feel slightly guilty because one you know he has to drive a long way out to come to your place and second it’s a surprise for him so you should be the one picking him up.

“I want to” he slightly squeezes your wrist.

You regard him noticing how he looks so determined. “Fine”

“Where are we going? Is it a date?!” his eyes widen with a grin.

“No!” your nose scrunches. “It’s not a date Jeon”

“Oh” his lower lip juts out slightly, voice completely deflated.

You are so not whipped for him— that you can’t even see him pouting without feeling bad for him. For a moment you can’t react because his face loses its brightness. But then a sense of urgency builds. You bite your lip in an effort to stop yourself from speaking. But then the more he sulks, the worse it gets.

“Fine! It’s a date” you sigh and lower your gaze to avoid looking at him. But you are sure he’s beaming.

“Yes!” you hear him.

Then you turn around and run from there because you aren’t sure your heart can take it.

> > > > > >

The evening arrives with a flurry of text messages from Jeongguk.

Jeon Jerkguk- I just left the house. I’ll be there in 40-ish minutes depending on traffic. - 4:30 pm Jeon Jerkguk- You know how to get there right? - 4:31 pm Jeon Jerkguk- Of course you do. You’re the smartest person I know 😊- 4:32 pm Jeon Jerkguk- Dress warmly, it's kind of cold out- 4:34 pm Jeon Jerkguk- Don't forget your jacket please Jeon Jerkguk- See you soon girlfriend 😍

You bang your head against the vanity. “No” you groan.

When he acts like this, it makes you speechless. Your chest feels fluttery, waves of chills pass through your skin, your stomach twists in knots, your breath hitches in your throat and warmth envelopes you. Like a normal person, instead of feeling happy you end up feeling stressed because you don’t know how to deal with it. He makes you nervous in a way no one does. There are times when you can’t even look at him because your nerves get the best of you.

It’s mostly because of the way he looks at you with a soft, loving look in his eyes. He doesn’t look at anyone else like that, but when he’s with you-- when he thinks you’re not looking-- you see it in the way the corners of his eyes crinkle very subtly as his lips curve up into a tiny little smile that vanishes when you do look at him. You’ve never seen him act like that before and the fact that it’s because of you makes it hard to deal with.

It’s because he does things for you that he doesn’t do for anyone else--

Like the one time he saw you sitting with a frown on your face in the middle of the lecture and he leaned in towards you.

“What’s wrong?” he had asked

“Nothing” you shook your head at him

“Liar” he whispered as he reached across and placed an index finger on the middle of your forehead. “Then what’s this?” he referred to the frown you were wearing.

You sighed and he pulled his hand away.. “Hoseok has been pestering me to give him the first draft for the profile but I haven’t written anything yet” you mumbled dropping your head between your arms on the table.

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” he had whispered with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What?” your head shot up as you looked at him. “No”

“Fine. But you’ll tell me if someone really bothers you?” sincerity reflected in his eyes.

“Jeon. Shut up” you had shaken your head at him and he had snickered in response.

Or when he had saved you from getting hurt  

You had been so immersed in giving him a mini lecture about what normal people do when they bump into someone when a cart full of boxes had rolled into your path.

“Y/n!” he yelled and pulled you to the side towards him. “Are you okay?” he had asked in a soft voice which made you lose your train of thoughts.

You simply nodded at him and continued walking.

Or the one time he lent you his umbrella

You were leaving the campus because your classes were over for the day. You cut through the football field because it was the shortest way. But what you didn’t know was that the football team was practicing at the time.

Your mind was so preoccupied with the stress of all the assignments that you didn’t realize Jeongguk was calling out your name. So you continued walking. When you were almost out of the bounds of college, rain started to fall. It pulled you out of your trance and you groaned upon realizing you did not have your umbrella.

You pulled up the hoodie over your head which was starting to get soaked as you felt rain droplets falling on your head. Then suddenly you felt a shadow loom over you and looking back you had found Jeongguk was holding an umbrella over your head.

“You’ll get sick” he said.

“Where did you come from?” you gaped at him.

“Practice” he motioned towards the field and then you saw all the players you had previously missed.

“Why are you here? Go practice. You’ll get in shit” you started walking again when he tugged your wrist to make you stop.

“One, I am the captain so I won’t get in shit. Two, take this or you’ll get wet and then you’ll get sick”

“You care why?” you narrowed your eyes in question.

“Because I just do. Now stop being a stubborn little idiot and take it” he thrusted the umbrella into your hand and jogged away towards the field covering his head with his hands.

A knock sounds on your bedroom door which goes by unnoticed because you are still thinking about Jeongguk.

“Thinking about me?”

Your heart leaps, as you hear a voice behind you but upon turning back you are met with Jeongguk who is offering you his usual grin.

“Holy shit Jeon, you scared me” you exhale loudly as finally the breath that had gotten stuck in your throat passes through.

“I see you’re not ready” he’s leaning against the doorframe, wearing a black denim jacket, his timberlands and a white shirt with black jeans with his hair— that damn long hair or his tied back in a bun at the top of his head. He looks—- nope. You shake your head and turn towards the vanity. He looks whatever— not even a little bit good.

“Wait” your brows furrow in realization as you turn to face him. “How did you get in?”

“Next time don’t leave the front door open” he steps inside the room and flops onto your bed. He lies on his side, propping an elbow up and resting his cheek in the palm of his hand “It could have been a thief, or a serial killer in my stead”

You roll your eyes. “Somehow you’re worse than both of those”

You hear him chuckle and shoot him an unimpressed look. “Why are you in my room?”

“Geez, way to thank me”

“Thank you for what?”

“You know that one time I saved you from that drunk asshole at the restaurant, and now for picking you up” his lips purse into a thin line.

Oh yes. You still haven’t thanked him for it.

“Thanks” you mumble.

“Not good enough” he shakes his head as he straightens up.

“What do you want?” you sigh.

“I want to make up for that one time when you kissed me and I ran out like an asshole” he scoots to the edge of the bed and pulls the chair you are sitting on closer to himself.

“What?” you gawk as you are being dragged towards him.

“Well, you see, I got scared. I didn’t know how to react so I ran off. Not my best moment, but can you blame me?” he leans towards you as he places his hands on the armrests of the chair on either side of you.

You cannot believe he’s bringing it up. That moment is easily one of the worst moments of your life. Maybe it’s even at the top of your list because of how embarrassing it was. Before that moment, you cannot recall another one as mortifying. It’s a memory you want to forget because it still brings about deep feelings of humiliation.

You gulp and look away as your eyes dart across the floor, matching the state of your mind which runs rampant with hundreds of thoughts. You play with your fingers, avoiding his gaze as it rests on you.

Then he leans in, until his lips are close to yours. Your eyes flutter close of their own accord and your breathing picks up pace. “Jeon-”

“Shh” he says, placing a finger on your lips.

You wait for it-- that familiar feeling of euphoria which results from his lips pressing onto yours. You wait for your heartbeat to quicken more than it already is because of his touch.  You wait for your skin to feel like it’s on fire and for your cheeks to feel like they’ll melt from the heat.

But it doesn’t come. Instead what you do feel is his lips pressing softly against your nose. “I won’t kiss you without your permission. Ever”

Your eyes open and you see Jeongguk has resumed his relaxed position as he’s leaning on his elbows once again and offering you a gentle smile. You blink profusely trying to comprehend what happened because this is highly uncharacteristic of Jeongguk. You dwell on it for a few seconds as you keep your focus on him.

On second thought, it’s not uncharacteristic of him. It’s just that you always assumed he wouldn’t ever say something like that.

Maybe you don’t need to teach him how to love you, maybe you need to teach yourself how to love him.

>>>>>>>>

Arriving at Jimin’s house, you find yourself on the receiving end of a puzzled look from Jeongguk. “Isn’t this Jimin’s house?”

You nod. “Put this on” you hand him a blindfold.

“I didn’t know you were kinky like that” he takes the black silk cloth from your hand.

“Remember how I told you, you only have one redeeming quality? You’re losing points here buddy” you remind him.

“Never thought I was gaining any in the first place” he shrugs.

“That’s what you think” you say his own line to him which makes him chuckle.

“So, I did gain points? When? For what?” he eyes you with anticipation.

“You think I’ll tell you? I don’t want to make things worse for myself” you offer a small smile, which you try to suppress.

“Oh come on!” he pouts.

“Again with the pouting” you shake your head at him, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling too much.

“Because I know it works on you” he sticks his tongue out cheekily with a grin.

“What!?”

“I’ve seen it in your eyes. Everytime I pout. You always give in”

“You suck” your lower lip juts out in a pout this time.

“That’s why you like me don’t you?” the already present grin on his face spreads even wider.

You quirk your head to the side to look out of the window. “I don’t like you”

“Then why can't you look at me and say it?” his voice drops a touch, making your cheeks warm up.

“Shut up” you bite back as you glare at him-- although not with the usual contempt.

He starts chuckling and shaking his head. “Oh y/n” he breathes.

“What?”

“You’re cute” he turns to you with a smile.

“You’re crazy” you open the door from your side and get out of the car.

> > > > > > >

For a football player Jeongguk sure does have shitty balance. But then again you have to give him benefit of the doubt because he is blindfolded. As you help him up the steps you can’t help but admire how he looks-- hair up in a bun once again, as tiny strands fall on either side of his face. Everything about him is unlike a football player except for the bomber jacket he is wearing. It’s like the trademark of college football and it screams “captain”.

“Y/n, will you catch me if I fall?” he muses, following you quietly as you hold his hand and lead him. You hadn’t wanted to, but then he took it upon himself to hold your hand because-

“It’s good practice. I am going to be doing this a lot. So why not get some practice in?” he jokes earning himself a hard slap on the arm. “Ow!” he whines. “What the fuck girlfriend?”

“I swear Jeon, you call me that one more time I will kill you” you say in a firm even voice.

“Anyway” he waves you off quickly. “Will you catch me if I fall?” he muses

“Do I look like I can catch you? You are two times taller than I am” you shake your head at his idiocy.

“Shh” he places a finger on his lips. “Don’t let the feminists hear you” he chuckles, making you snort.

“Did you just laugh at my joke?’ he asks, stepping over the final step of the stairs with your help.

“You’re hallucinating” you deadpan.

You walk towards the front door hand in hand, Jeongguk’s eyes still blindfolded. knock on the door and don’t even have to wait before Jimin is opening the door while flashing his positively bright smile at you. “You came!” he wraps you in a hug and notices yours and Jeongguk’s hands laced together tightly. “Did you finally agree to be his girlfriend?” he whispers

“No you dumbass. He’s blindfolded so I was helping him. Do you want the captain of the football team to break his leg or something?” you frown at him in disbelief. He could be super naive sometimes— or maybe you can be super blind.

“Too bad” he shrugs. “You guys are cute together” he whispers before ushering you and Jeongguk in.

The moment you enter inside, you separate yourself from Jeongguk for much needed space. You find yourself heading towards the tiny bar counter near the kitchen, upon which are laid various types of alcohol-- just what you need, because if you are to survive this party with Jeongguk you need to be slightly buzzed.

Behind you, commotion begins which draws your attention as you turn around.Jeongguk greets his teammates with a wide grin on his face, and then his eyes catch yours and you almost gasp because of the surprise and quickly avert your gaze.

For some reason which you cannot fathom, you look up again to find him hugging one of his teammates but his gaze is directed at you, as he smiles. He lets go of his teammate and for a brief second interacts with him before his eyes flicker back to you.

You need to look away, you should look away but you don’t. Instead, you make eye contact and it lasts for a good four seconds before you realize you really should not be doing that.

Once it gets too overwhelming— the feelings and sensations— you turn towards the alcohol and pour yourself a glass. You chug it before pouring another and then turning around to face the living room where Jeongguk is. He is high fiving and hugging and greeting people and you wonder if it gets exhausting as you sip your drink. You notice the smile on his face for one brief moment, which makes your mouth split into a grin. But then you realize what you’re doing and zip your mouth into a line, schooling your expression into one of boredom.

You look to the other side of the living room and find a young couple busy amongst themselves, detached from the rest of their surroundings. They’re playing with each other’s fingers and they’re talking and laughing, oblivious to everything. You observe them and somehow the image of them translates into one of you and Jeongguk for a brief second. You almost drop the glass in your hand, eyes widening in horror.

Jeongguk quietly slides next to you. “What’s got you that way?”

“Jesus!” you jump. “Can you stop creeping up on me like that?”

“Sorry, love”. The nickname he has for you flows past his lips so naturally and effortlessly. Surprisingly enough you never cared much for it but somehow at this moment, you realize how easily he addresses you like that. It’s a term of endearment not everyone uses. Yet he does, and when it happens you manage to block it out. But right now you hear it loud and clear. You glance at the cup in your hand and attribute your sudden attention to detail to the alcohol. “What were you thinking?” he gazes at you.

“Nothing” you shake your head, eyes flickering to the couple.

Jeongguk glances between you and them breaking out into a grin. “Do you want that?” he questions with a quiet gentleness to his voice which once again manages to catch you off guard.

On the one hand, his softer side makes you want to hug him, while on the other his usual self makes you want to hit him for acting like an idiot. There is no middle ground between the two.

“I am drinking and you’re the one acting drunk” you state with a scoff

“Oh, love” he sighs, and there it is again— that awareness of how easily he calls you ‘love’.

“Why do you call me that?” you question, supplying a sincere look that you hope conveys your curiosity.

“Because you remind me of love and how it’s supposed to be warm, selfless, giving, radiant and innocent” his lips form into that soft, fond smile that always succeeds in making your heart race, just like it is now.

“I remind you of love?” your curiosity piques the more you look at him.

He nods.

“Are you high?” you face scrunches in confusion as you stare at him.

He snickers but somehow his voice comes out laced with disappointment. “Too stubborn to see as always” he turns his head to observe at the couple

You blink, trying your best to understand what he means but all he offers you is a smile, the meaning of which you can’t decipher. Because although he’s smiling, there is something in his eyes-- in the way they are too solemn, the way his smile isn’t reaching his eyes which makes your chest fill with a heavy feeling.

You elect to ignore his comment because you don’t want to engage in whatever this is between you. It’s too overwhelming, this fine line you walk between being frenemies one moment and something more the next. It never helps that Jeongguk always says something that is neither here nor there and is something smack dab in the middle of the spectrum which leaves you feeling even more confused.

“How did you like the surprise?” you put the cup of beer down behind you on the counter and jump up to sit on in.

“It’s nice” he muses as his eyes still rest on the couple. He’s got a faint smile on his face as he leans against the counter, elbows resting on the top.

For a moment it confuses you because you don’t know whether he means the get-together or the two lovebirds immersed in their own world. His eyes are filled with a kind of longing you have never seen in them before. They are solemn yet they twinkle with a hope-- for what you don’t know. But when he’s like this, lost in his own thoughts, disengaged from the world-- that's when you truly see him.

“Just nice?” you question, which catches his attention for a brief second as he glances at you and then goes back to observing the couple.  

“Yeah. Nice” he supplies, still looking like he’s too lost in his thoughts. You follow his gaze and find yourself also looking at the unknown couple.

“Don’t tell me this surprise has got you all sappy”

“Why?” he turns his head towards you. “You don’t like me when I am like this?”

“I don’t like you anyway” you roll your eyes-- but it’s playful.

“Liar” he whispers pulling his lower lip between his teeth, lips curving into a tiny flirty smile.

You clear your throat as it suddenly feels dry. “You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind”

“Perceptive as always” he chuckles.

“Well, it’s not hard when you’re only like this five percent of the time and the other ninety-five-you fuck around” a corner of your lip tugs into a teasing smile, which he catches.

“I take it back. You wouldn’t be able to see it if it was staring you right in the face” he says with a shake of his head as his head hangs low.

“See what?” a frown decorates your forehead as confusion registers in your mind at his words.

“Everything” he glances at you. “All of it. How do you not see it?”

“See what?” you gesture wildly with your hands because you hate how he’s being so not specific about whatever it is he’s going on about. “Can you be any more vague” you sigh.

He mutters something under his breath, his fist clenched by his side.

“What is going on with you?” you actually feel confused and slightly frustrated. “Can’t you be direct?”

“Can you be more of a fool y/n. How is it that you have a high IQ but a low EQ?” he imitates your sigh-- looking utterly defeated. The fact that he’s talking in circles is beginning to make your head spin.

“Excuse me?” you nudge him hard feeling defensive, letting your feelings escape through your tone.

“Are you really going to make me say it again? Right now?” he dismisses in a soft tone with a shake of his head.

“Yes!” you look at him with wide eyes. “Please say it and spare me this pain of trying to figure out what’s gotten into you”

“Why do you care?” he folds his arms across his chest, giving you that slightly narrow-eyed curious look.

“Because--” you stare at him open-mouthed. “I can’t believe I am saying this but you are much more bearable when you are your usual annoying talkative self. Whatever this is” you wag your finger up and down at him. “I don’t like it”  For whatever reason, it’s true. You don’t like it when he acts all stressed out and withdraws into himself. It irks you because you like him when he’s smiling, and laughing-- way more than you would care to admit.

Then you pick up your beer cup and resume mindless drinking as Jeongguk watches you quietly with a tiny hint of a smile on his mouth. He doesn’t stop you, he doesn’t even blink. All he does is observe you quietly which is worse because it unsettles you. You notice him and suddenly the small sips turn into hugs gulps as you chug the drink and slam the glass on the counter.

He folds his arms across his chest with a faint smile on his lips which doesn’t quite reach his eyes, yet the corners crinkle-- it’s when someone in love silently admires the subject of their affections.

“Stop looking at me like that”

“How much do you hate me?” his voice is quiet, yet that muted smile remains on his lips

“Hate. Pffft” you press your lips in a thin line. “That’s a strong word” a hiccup escapes your chest.

The tiny sound draws Jeongguk’s attention and quickly he turns and pours you a glass of water. It hovers in front of you as you look between him and his outstretched hand. He motions with his head to glass as he looks at you. You drink it and find the cool water soothing the burning sensation in your throat.

“My, my Jeon” you put the glass down. “Aren’t you thoughtful?” an imperceptible smile crosses your lips.

“It’s part of my charm” he shrugs with that snarky quality making its way back into his voice.

You snap and point a finger at him. “That’s what I am talking about. This is much better. Please don’t become all sappy on me. It’s not a good look on you”

He chuckles. “And worrying for me is not a good look on you” he gently taps the tip of your nose with a playful wink.

You snort. “Who said I was worried for you?”

“If this wasn’t your failed attempt at getting me to cheer up then what was it?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Delusional as always” you pass a shy, flirty smile which he reciprocates as you both quietly look at each other-- and to a third party you would look like two people too blind to see how deep they are in their feelings for one another.

“Right. I am totally delusional are you’re totally not worried about me “he mumbles under his breath.

“Stop saying I am worried about you. Why would I be worried about you?” you fold your arms defensively over your chest shooting him an unimpressed look.

> > > > > >

If there is one thing in the world that can unite you and Jeongguk, it’s UNO. As you sit in a circle— swearing under your breath because you and Jeongguk are losing against Hoseok and Jimin— you can’t help but want to kick whosoever idea this was. That is because you hate losing, and Jeongguk definitely hates losing. But then you got placed into one team because apparently a boyfriend and girlfriend should be together in one team.

And now you’re in a losing situation and both of you are feeling too competitive. From the periphery of your vision you glance at Jeongguk to find his brows knitted in concentration, lower lip pulled between his teeth.

“What do you think?” Jeongguk leans in to whisper against your ear as he turns the cards slightly towards you so you can see them.

“Play the blue one” you eye the discard pile and notice a blue card which serves your turn well.

Jeongguk plays the blue one and you end up with two cards. The game continues on and Jimin and Hoseok also have two cards left. The atmosphere around you is silent as the other teams who had already had their turn watch in anticipation.

“UNO” you yell startling Jeongguk who is right next to you. His eyes widen and a grin teeters to the edges of his lips.

“UNO!” he yells as he realizes he’s only holding one card.

Jimin and Hoseok have vexed looks on their faces as they eye you and Jeongguk. “Damn” Jimin mumbles under his breath as he slams the last two cards on the floor while you and Jeongguk celebrate.

“We won!” he shoots up and you follow as both of you jump up and down holding hands and then he pulls you in for a bear hug.

“Good job y/n” he sways you side to side.

“You too Jeon!” you give a gentle squeeze.

You embrace each other in the middle of the living room— Meanwhile everyone else watches you with wide eyes and raised brows.

“I told you she likes him” Jimin whispers to Hoseok.

“Does she know she likes him?” Hoseok asks a legit question because god knows you can be blind and knowingly stubborn when it comes to admitting your feelings for a certain Jeon Jeongguk.

>>>>>>>>>>

After that very intense game of UNO ends, Jimin and Hoseok decide it’s a great idea to go out for drinks. It’s actually a very bad idea because you’re already sort of buzzed and so is everyone else because there was more than enough booze at Jimin’s place. But somehow it’s not as fun drinking in the house as it is outside the house-- a logic you cannot understand.

You tried to get out of it-- really tried but then Hoseok threatened to tell Jeongguk about that one time you got drunk in high school and serenaded him thinking he was Zac Efron. It’s the one truly terrifying experience of your life that you like to keep under wraps. Of course it sucks that Hoseok knows all this about you and can use it against you. So when you hear that Jeongguk might become privy to this deepest darkest secret of yours-- of course you don’t want him to know.

At first your immediate response is a very hyperenthusaistic ‘no’ when Hoseok says he’ll tell Jeongguk. You don’t even hesitate for a second before the word slips out of your mouth--albeit very loudly. Then once you have had time to digest your reaction, you can’t help but wonder why you were desperate enough to say no without even a slight hesitation. You dwell on it, and then some more and as you’re all walking towards the nearest pub, you reach this conclusion: it’s because if Jeongguk knows he’ll use it against you, which you simply won't stand for.

You say it like it's a mantra in your head-- quietly walking next to Jeongguk who is too busy talking about football with Hoseok and Jimin to pay attention to how silent you’ve fallen. You repeat it again and again because a small part of you tries to refute that weak reasoning-- almost as if you’re trying to make yourself believe that you don’t want any embarrassing detail of your life made known to Jeongguk because he’ll use it against and not because you’ll simply be too embarrassed if he of all people finds out.

It’s the exact same thing Jimin had said when that desperate no had crossed your lips.

“See? You like him so much you don’t even want him to know about this because you’ll be embarrassed and you don’t want him to think you’re weird. Why can’t you just accept it?” he had said, at which point you had opted to slap him upside the head and settle for a small shut up. After all, there are only finite ways in which one can say ‘no’.

You shake your head as if that will make all these thoughts go away. Then the unthinkable happens as you’re walking to your destination. Jeongguk while still conversing with Hoseok and Jimin, slowly slides his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers and pulls you close to his side. He’s so subtle about it he doesn’t even stop to look at you. He just does it naturally without drawing attention, without uttering a single word and without interrupting his conversation with your best friends.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you feel your heart skipping a beat and then a second later it starts hammering-- reminding you that you can’t run away. Sure you can alter your thoughts and your words, but physically you can’t control these reactions Jeongguk incites in you.

You glance up at the man walking next to you. All you can focus on is the warm feeling of his hand against yours and how he’s acting so naturally as if he’s done this--holding your hand thing-- every single day of his life. Small tingles escape from the palm of your hands and travel up your arm and then it spreads to the rest of your body as a chill runs down your spine. As if that’s not enough your lips begin to curve up in a smile, and as you try to bite down on your lip to stop yourself, you feel the tightness stretching your cheeks and you end up giving in despite yourself-- smiling like a fool living in the sweet denial of love.

You gulp hard and then out of nowhere the realization hits you that you haven’t even once tried to wrest your hand from his. You’ve just let it be and walked hand in hand with him like it’s natural for you too. He keeps you close to his side, his grip snug against your hand so that if you wanted to you could slip your hand out easily. You should, you definitely should but you don’t which itself brings about an onslaught of a hundred different thoughts.  

While you are busy having a mental breakdown, you arrive at the pub, to find a long line outside stretching for about half a block.

“I told you we should have made reservations” Hoseok whines.

“Reservations for drinks? Are you crazy bro?” Jimin replies with a shake of his head.

Jeongguk chuckles watching the exchange between your friends all the while holding onto your hand, and you stand quietly next to him hoping they don’t see it.

“It’s chilly” Hoseok suddenly mumbles and then you feel it.

Now that he’s said it, of course you’re feeling it.

Then another unthinkable thing happens. Jeongguk very subtly places your already interlocked hands in his jacket pocket. Once again he doesn’t say a word, doesn’t look at you, or interrupt the conversation. He just does it like he’s done this a million times too. You glance up at him and he’s just looking at Hoseok and Jimin as they bicker with a smile. It’s not the fact that your hand is currently locked in his. It’s not the awareness of the emotions and sensations you’re feeling. What makes your knees go weak and your chest swell with emotion is how quietly he’s doing it. There is something about the way that he’s so natural about it that makes your heart race faster. It doesn’t feel forced. It feels just right-- and that’s what makes you so nervous.

You feel the warmth rise to your cheeks, softly melting into your skin and morphing into heat as it emanates. Even the slight chill in the night air isn’t enough to dull it down. Your breathing becomes faster, your lungs feel like they are being stretched as you try your best to take in air, but none it ever gets down there because you just can't remember how to breathe. You can feel the adrenaline in your veins, your mouth slowly but surely drying as each second passes with your hand shoved enveloped by the warmth of Jeongguk’s hand wrapped around yours.

Jimin’s eyes accidentally fall onto your disappeared hands. He nudges Hoseok who follows his line of sight to find your and Jeongguks’ hands safely tucked in his pocket. Wide smiles plaster themselves onto their lips as they look on, while both of you remain unaware of the two pairs of eyes closely observing you.

“We’ll be here all night long” Jeongguk speaks at which point both Jimin and Hoseok wipe the smiles on their faces and pretend not to have seen anything while nodding along.

“Should we just leave?” Jimin questions.

You’re the first one to nod in agreement-- too enthusiastically in fact which makes Jeongguk utter a soft chuckle as he looks down at you.

“Yeah” he mumbles quietly, as his gaze rests on you taking in how small you look next to him and how much he’ll give anything to keep you by his side-- safe and sound.

>>>>>>>>>

It’s been two weeks since you were given the task of writing Jeongguk’s profile and for the thousandth time as you sit to write, your mind draws a blank. How do you begin and where do you begin? The biggest issue for you though is maintaining objectivity because somehow the time you have spent with Jeongguk has made you realize several different things.

1. He’s not as bad as you thought he was, and therefore you can’t really hate him anymore 2. Since you can't hate him anymore, you don’t know what you are supposed to do 3. You feel things around him that you haven’t felt around other people and you are terrified as to what it means.

The library thankfully is empty save for you so you can whine and complain aloud without attracting attention which is what you are busy doing when Jimin walks in. He looks like death-- hair dishevelled and sticking out in different directions, face smeared slightly with dirt along with his shirt, and a shuffling gait as he approaches you.

He falls down limply onto the chair, leaning against the back and his arms fall loosely to the sides. You arch a brow in curiosity as you observe the young boy in front of you who suddenly looks like he’s gained years.

“Wow” you comment, shutting down your laptop, lowkey thankful for the distraction. “You look like shit”

“Blame your damn boyfriend” he mumbles, eyelids half droopy.

“For the last time, he’s not my boyfriend” a muscle in your jaw twitches as you glare at Jimin.

“Whatever it is” he waves you off. “Can’t you just accept it? He’s taking it out on us” Jimin lifts himself off the chair and offers you an impassive, blank look.

“What do you mean?” your face contorts in confusion.

“He’s frustrated. All of us can see it. Hell, the whole fucking college knows except you” he looks at you with the same lifeless gaze.

“Knows what?”

“Jeongguk likes you!” Jimin throws his hands in the air, finally the listless look replaced by some kind of emotion-- mostly frustration.

“No” you shake your head vigorously. “He doesn’t”. Despite him basically having confessed to you that day by the bus stop, you still refuse to believe it.

“Oh for fuck's sake” he groans, hiding his face in his palms.

“We’ve been practicing for four hours straight. All because he’s annoyed you can’t see his feelings and he’s trying to make that frustration go away by distracting himself with football. Or way worse because you refuse to acknowledge his feelings and your own”

“I am dead inside Jimin” you try to lighten the mood but Jimin only supplies a blank look, definitely not impressed. “Sorry” you look away sheepishly.

“Please y/n” please Jimin falls off his chair and onto his knees as he looks at you--pleading with despair.

“Jimin what the hell?” you jump from your seat in surprise as you force him to get up. “Stop”

“You stop. You like him right?” Jimin falls back on his seat with a long sigh.

“I don’t” you avoid his eyes, as yours dart around.

“Fine then. I guess we'll just set him up with Jaehyun’s sister” Jimin pouts with a shrug.

At this your head whips in his direction so fast you end up feeling dizzy. “What?”

“Yeah. Jaehyun has been pestering Jeongguk for months to date his sister because he thinks they’ll make a good couple. Honestly, I think so too because I have met his sister and she is very sweet and has a warm personality. Jeongguk will like her too once he meets her.”

You blink, feeling your energy being drained away and a sense of dread settling into your stomach. The thought of Jeongguk with someone else obviously doesn’t sit well with you because of the sense of urgency that starts to build. You don’t know what for, but it rises out of your stomach and slowly spreads to the rest of your body turning you restless. You look at Jimin, hoping he can see what you’re feeling in your eyes, the way Jeongguk sees it. But all Jimin does is stare at you in a blank fashion, as if he is incapable of expressing himself in any other way.

An image of Jeongguk with another girl passes through your mind and you shut your eyes tight to make it go away because it leaves its mark in your chest in the form of panic. All you feel is panic. Panic because Jeongguk might end up liking Jaehyun’s sister. Because if he likes her then somehow you’ll feel bad and if you feel bad then that means…

“What are you two doing here?”

Jimin turns his head towards the owner of the voice and you look past his shoulder to see the devil walking towards you, with his bag slung over one shoulder, black shirt hanging loosely off his frame, black sweatpants fitting perfectly along the curves of his thighs and to complete the look black boots along with a black baseball cap on his head, with his long hair sticking out of the bottom around his neck.

Damn him and his stupid fucking outfits. He never even tries and yet he has the ability to make your heart flutter.

“Jeon?”

“Must you always greet me like this y/n?” his lips stretch into a playful smile as he takes off his backpack and sits on the empty chair next to you.

“Must you sit next to me?” you glance at him and quickly open your laptop again to distract yourself.

“ I want to” his smile only widens.

You groan internally because you’re feeling it all over again— the butterflies, the heat seeping into your cheeks, the way your heart starts to beat faster and your breaths hitch in your throat.

“What are you writing?” he leans in towards you his shoulder touching yours. Your eyes widen momentarily at the contact.

“Umm” you clear your throat. “About you”

“I knew you liked me!” He whispers excitedly in your ear

“What!?” you shriek, unable to control the thrumming of your chest.

“Why can’t you just accept it?” he leans in further, nose gently touches the side of your face and your eyes automatically close as he makes you feel so many emotions. Overwhelmed, you push your chair away and run out.

“Y/n!” Jeongguk calls out after you with a grin stuck to his face.

“Why do you always do this?” Jimin shakes his head at him once you are gone.

“It’s fun. Plus it's cute how y/n blushes every time” he says with a playful grin.

“Fucking whipped man” Jimin sighs

Jeongguk leans into the palm of his hand squishing his cheek as he sulks. “I’ve always been whipped. Your best friend just refuses to see it”

“Whatever will happen to you two” Jimin purses his lips and shakes his head like he’s disappointed.

>>>>>>>>>>>

After running out like a damn coward from the library, and leaving all your stuff there like the intelligent person you are-- you end up bumping into Kinsey who is one of your group mates for a project you’re doing in your horrendous Microbiology class. You thought it would be a fun class with getting to wear that white lab coat and conducting experiments but you instead find the class to be so boring it makes you fall asleep.

“Hey Kinsey” you greet with a smile.

“Hey y/n. You remember we’re meeting today for the end of term project right?”

Do you remember that? No. Will you tell her? No.

“Yes I do” you lie with ease.

“We’ll see you in the library then at 6 as decided?”

Holy shit at 6 pm? How the hell are you supposed to get home?. You have half a mind to say no but you realize that your whole grade rides on this project and you end up getting a bad grade, you won’t just screw yourself, you’ll screw everyone else too which isn’t fair. So you agree to meet in the library at six and you are sure that you’ll be late getting home because when in this world ever have group meetings finished on time?

Kinsey leaves you with a lot to think about. However most important at this time though is getting your stuff from the library but you’re too scared to go back. But you have no choice because one you can’t just leave your stuff at the mercy of Park Jimin and Jeon Jeongguk, and two you still have a couple of hours to spare until you meet your group. So you need your stuff. Otherwise without your laptop, and your cell phone which you also left on the table-- you have nothing to do. At the very least you need these two things.

So begrudgingly, hating how the logic makes sense, you trudge back the way you came, and quietly sneak to the second floor, keeping your eyes and ears open in case Jeon Jeongguk appears. He has this bad habit of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.

When you reach the second floor, to your right are the bookshelves and you quickly hide behind one and peek from behind at the tables on the opposite side to you. You catch the sight of the table you were sitting on but it’s empty and none of your stuff is there. One of them took it and you desperately hope it was Jimin and not--

“Looking for this?” you turn around to find Jeongguk holding your bag by the grab handle mid-air, raising a brow at you.

Holy shit.

You reach for your bag but he retreats his arm. “Are you trying to avoid me?”

“No” you shake your head, reaching for the bag again but he steps back.

“Stop doing that and give me my backpack. I have a lot of work to do, unlike you”

“You are avoiding me” he says with a straight face.

“I really need my things Jeon. I am supposed to meet my group at 6 for a project so I need my stuff. Please”

“You’re staying here until after 6?” he stretches his arm and holds your bag out to you.

“Yeah” you nod, taking the bag and putting the straps over your shoulder.

“How will you get home?The bus stops running early today because of the parade”

“I’ll figure something out” you shrug and pivot on your heels, beginning your walk to somewhere you can be alone because lord knows being around Jeongguk is overwhelming and leaves you feeling like you don’t know what to do with yourself.

>>>>>>>

You had gotten so busy with working on his profile that you kind of put everything else on the back burner— including the one group assignment you had to do as an end of term project.

You and your group mates head out towards the parking lot after finishing because for one all of them drove and second you could take a shortcut through the parking lot to get to the bus stop two blocks down. Had it not been for the stupid spring parade the road wouldn’t be blocked and you wouldn’t have to walk two damn blocks just to catch the other bus.

Your group members even offer to give you a ride home but you refuse because you don’t want to be a burden.

“Bye” you said to Kinsey, and just as you turn around to leave your eyes fall upon none other than Jeongguk who is leaning against the hood of his car— eyes glued to his phone.

“Oh. I get it. Your boyfriend was coming to pick you up” Kinsey says with a suggestive smile on her face.

“No” you shake your head vigorously. “I didn’t even know he was here”

“It’s alright. I get it” she winks as she opens the door. “Have fun”

You open your mouth to protest but she is already settled in the car and starting the engine. Then she drives off into the night leaving you a little shocked.

Once she disappears from your sight you walk over to Jeongguk who doesn’t see you coming.

“What are you doing here at this time of the night?” you stop in front of him catching his attention.

“Oh hey!” he puts his phone away and greets you with that cheeky smile. “I am here to pick you up”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s..” he glanced at the watch on his wrist. “It’s 10:05 at night and you should not be taking transit. It’s not safe”

“But-”

“What kind of a guy would I be if I let a girl— a catch like you— take the transit in the middle of the night. My mom didn’t raise me that way” he shakes his head. “Besides, I can’t have some random handsome stranger on the bus steal you away from me” he breaks out into his signature tooth grin, eyes disappearing into moon shaped crescents.

“I don’t know what kinds of movies you have been watching all your life to get that stupid idea in your head. But It’s okay. I am a big girl. I can handle myself” you offer a smile before pivoting with the intention of walking away. However, you forget you are talking to Jeongguk— he doesn’t give up easily.

He tugs you back by the grab handle on top of your backpack.“Y/n wait” You turn around to look at him.

“Please just come. I’ll feel better about it. I really don’t want you taking transit at this time. It’s not safe. I don’t want anything happening to you”

You regard him— how he’s silently pleading with those sparkly eyes of his, how he sounds so concerned and genuine.

“I live forty minutes away. What if you get hungry?”

“I ate. Plus I came prepared with snacks” he looks proud of himself as he cheekily grins at you.

“What if your parents get mad at you?” you fold your arms

“I am a big boy y/n. Besides, I live alone”

“What if the car runs out of gas?” you quirk a brow at him

“The tank is full. I made sure of that when I came here”

“Umm then, what if….” you stumble for another excuse.

“Nope. No more excuses” he wags his finger side to side.

“Okay. But it’ll take you like two hours to get back home because you live on the opposite side of the city and you have practice tomorrow morning. So you’ll need to wake up early which means if you drop me off you will get home late and won’t have enough time to sleep. If you don’t get enough sleep then how will you go into practice tomorrow morning” you ramble out of concern for him.

He waves you off. “My love, I’ll be fine”

“What if you are so tired, you can’t concentrate and then you injure yourself?”

“I won’t injure myself. I’ll get enough sleep. Stop worrying about me”

“I am not worried about you” you scoff, looking away as your pupils shake.

“Okay fine. You’re totally not worried about me. I concede. Will you please just get in so I can drive you home, then get back to my precious bed and get that proper sleep you’re so not worried about?”

You bite your lip in indecision. Then you figured the more you stand here wasting time the later he would get home— not that you care. But you also know refusing wouldn’t be an option for two reasons: one Jeongguk would rather die than let you take the bus and two it might sort of, kind of break his heart if you refused. But you settle on the former being the reason for saying yes, and definitely not the latter.

“Fine. Thank you” your lips stretch into a grateful making him smile as well.

“Anytime my love” and like the gentleman, he is he opens the door for you and you sit in and he drives you home.

Once you’ve reached home, he leans in and pecks you on the cheek. “Good night y/n” his eyes sparkle as the moonlight through the window hits his irises.

“Drive safe Jeon. Good night” you whisper

>>>>>>>>

The next day, you’re in the elevator heading to your class when it stops at one the floors and a bunch of girls get in squishing you. You shuffle as far back as you can and find yourself pinned to a corner.

“Did you hear Jeongguk asked Jihyun out?” one of them says with a dirty scowl on her face.

Your eyes widen as the words register in your head and your heart starts pounding against your chest.

“Jihyun?” one of the girls in the group asks

“Yeah. Jaehyun’s sister” the first girl replies with yet another scowl.

“Wow. I thought he would never date anyone” the second girl.

“A guy like him can’t be single for too long” the other shrugs.

So when Jimin told you that they would set Jeongguk up with Jaehyun’s sister he wasn’t joking. You had taken it too lightly and now Jeongguk is with another girl.

A lump forms in your throat and you try your best to choke it back. But then the tightness builds and you feel the back of your throat constricting and a tiny sob escapes. You slap a hand to your mouth as the two girls look at you. You duck your head low so they can’t see the tears pricking the edge of your eyes.

You press the button for the next floor since the board is right next to you. The elevator bell dings and you push past them, earning glares in response.

The tears you had been trying to hold back fall onto your cheeks one after another and your nose starts to feel stuffy. You keep your head low and avoid eye contact with people around you.

As if your luck couldn’t get any worse you end up bumping your head into someone’s chest—

“Sorry” a familiar voice cuts through the air and you wish that a hole open up in the ground to swallow you whole. “Y/n?”

Jeon frickin Jeongguk makes an appearance at the worst moment.

You try to sidestep him but he tugs your arm to make you stop. “Are you crying?”

“Let me go” you croak, trying to wrest your wrist from his grasp. But he only pulls you towards him. You keep your head low to avoid looking at him.

“Why are you crying?” his soft voice only makes the urge to sob worse.

“It’s none of your business” a muscle in your jaw twitches as you bite through clenched teeth. “Let me go!” you yank your wrist out of his grasp and walk past him to continue on your unknown destination.

“Wait” he pulls at your wrist again. “Did someone say something to you? Do I need to kick someone’s ass because I’ll gladly do it” he’s looking into your eyes with that stupid fucking look-- slight crinkle on his forehead, eyes full of concern that makes you want to melt into a puddle of goo. You look at him, tears falling down your cheeks as you try to decipher exactly what is going through his head. He’s no one. He’s not your boyfriend, he’s not even a friend. To top it all off he’s asked someone else out. So why does he care so much?

You roll your eyes. “Can't you mind your own business?. Besides your girlfriend won’t appreciate seeing you holding onto me like this” you lift the wrist he’s holding and glance at it and then back at him.

“Oh” a look of realization crosses his face, and very subtly a corner of his lips tugs up, but then he’s quick to revert to his usual neutral expression. He lets go of your wrist, and without a word, you pivot on your heels and leave him standing there.

Had you looked back you would have noticed him shaking his head with an affectionate smile that reached his eyes, as he watched your retreating figure.

>>>>>>>>>>

The last thing-- the very last thing you want is to leave the house. You just want to wallow in your misery which you don’t fully comprehend, or rather refuse to acknowledge the reason for. That’s all you want. But having Jimin and Hoseok and best friend’s makes things difficult. You wish that there was a refund policy for friendships because you would definitely cash in on it when both of them barge into your room and rip the covers off you.

You shoot both of them a glare and lift yourself to pull the covers back and fall back onto the bed again. You clutch onto the covers tightly so they can't take them off you. But two of them are stronger than one of you and you feel the cold draft hitting you when they manage to get the duvet off you again.

“What!” you yell at them.

“Get up!” they say in unison.

“Fuck off!” you yell back

“Stop being a child and get up. The world hasn’t ended. You say you don’t even like him! So why are you acting all butt hurt about it” Hoseok’s firm voice cuts through the silence.

“I am not butthurt” you fold your arms defensively as you frown at him.

“Seriously y/n, if you don’t get up I am going to the very last thing you want” Jimin threatens as he folds his arms across his chest too and pouts at you-- daring you to disobey.

“You are all words” you scowl at him.

“Fine” he pulls his phone out of his pocket. You watch as he dials and then puts the phone next to his ear. “Jeongguk, come over right now”

“Jimin!” you yell and shoot up from the bed and jump on Jimin as he catches you by wrapping one arm around your waist. He extends his arm away from your reach and puts the phone on speaker. “Hang up!” you slap him repeatedly on his back. “Hang the fuck up!”

“What’s going on?” you hear Jeongguk’s voice.

“Hang up Jimin!!” you yell at the top of your lungs.

“Alright. I am coming over” you hear Jeongguk’s voice before the dial tone rings.

You look from the phone to Jimin, who is smiling at you. “Don’t challenge me next time y/n”

Jimin lets go of you and you flop on the bed with a thud. “I hate you” you glance at them both before hiding your face behind your hands.

“We love you too. So, now he’s coming over. Here’s what is going to happen” Hoseok crouches down in front of you and pulls your hands away from your face, holding them tight to your sides as he looks at you. “You’re going to tell him how you feel about him. Don’t dare deny it y/n” he warns.

“But he asked Jihyun-”

“No” Jimin says sternly and shakes his head. “No more excuses”

You look at Jimin and then down at Hoseok. “You guys suck”

“You know you like him. You do” he pauses as he studies you carefully. “Just tell him because he likes you too. A lot. He’s even told you like a million times. Stop breaking his heart”

“What?” your eyes widen as you feel betrayed. “Breaking his heart? When did I-” and then you realize how many times he said he liked you-- directly and indirectly-- and how everytime you brushed him off.

“You know y/n, there is only so much time he will wait for you. If you don’t, he’ll move on and then you’ll regret not saying anything” Jimin speaks as he peers into your eyes.

“Exactly” Hoseok nods.

You groan and fall back onto the bed. “I hate all of this”

Jimin grabs one of your arms and Hoseok grabs the other as they pull you up. “Stop” both of them say in unison again.

“Tell him” Hoseok says a final time before both of them retreat out of your room, giving you plenty to think about.

> > > > > > >

As not promised, Jeongguk shows up. He actually shows up at your place. He always does things he’s not supposed to do like showing up at your place and never does things he’s supposed to do like answer your interview questions. When you hear the front the door open, you quickly run to the door of your room and stand with your back against it, pushing as much as you can because you know Hoseok and Jimin are going to come at any moment to get you.

As expected you hear the sounds of footsteps and whispers outside your door. “She better not have locked it” you hear Hoseok mumble.

You feel the handle digging into the small of your back as Hoseok tries to open the door from the other side. You press your lips together, as the pain gets to you slowly. You try to hold it in but then the door bursts open. You lose your balance since you are pushed away due to the sheer force that is Jimin and fall to the floor on your knees.

“I knew it” Hoseok looks at you accusingly from behind Jimin as he holds open the door. “He’s here”

“Go downstairs and talk to him” Jimin helps you up.

“Do I have to?” you look at him pleadingly.

“Yes. What do you think is going to happen if you tell him?” he says in a firm voice

“I don’t know” you reply. But you imagine Jeongguk could just change his mind and tell you he never liked you, in which case you would be hurt. He could tell you he likes Jihyun now and that he’s forgotten all about you. He could tell you he’s already moved on and then things are awkward between you for the rest of your college life. But more than all of this is just the fact that he’s Jeongguk and you are y/n and your relationship was never supposed to come to this.

You were always supposed to walk that thin line between friends and enemies and nothing more. But then you got to know Jeongguk and how kind he is. You got to know his ambitions and how hard he will work for them. You understood that he’s a human too and he breaks down like everyone else. That understanding changed something — in fact it changed everything.

So is it not natural for you to hesitate? Why can’t everyone understand that?

At being met nothing but silence Jimin shoves you out of your room, his hand resting on the small of your back, until you are downstairs in the living room just to make sure you don’t run away.

They know you too well.

“Go!” Jimin pushes you and you end up stumbling towards Jeongguk who is standing with his back to you, his eyes glued to the football game. When you hit him because you lose your balance he is quick to turn around and steady you.

“Clearly God never blessed you with balance” he chuckles.”How are you always stumbling and falling over?” he steadies you by placing his hands on your arms and holding you in place.

“T-t-th-thanks” you mutter under your breath as he lets go of your arms. You allow your gaze to settle on the floor as you fidget with your hands. You look over your shoulder at Jimin and Hoseok both of whom give an imperceptible shake of their heads as you silently plead. You guess there is no choice.

“Why did you call me over?” Jeongguk turns to Jimin who abandons his defensive stance.

“Y/n has something to tell you” the corners of his mouth upturn in an encouraging smile as he looks from Jeongguk to you.

“You do?” Jeongguk looks at you with crinkled brows.

You stand silent, unable to look at him, unable to think-- powerless to even move a muscle much less your mouth. You can feel all three men looking at you. Jimin gently squeezes your shoulder.

“Well-” you clear your throat as you look at Hoseok who gives you a thumbs up. “Well the thing is” you clear your throat again, swallowing hard because your mouth is dry. “The- the- the thing is that… I--ummm.. I--uhhh. I-- well I ” you glance at Jeongguk who is watching you with nothing but patience.

“She likes you” Hoseok speaks out nowhere. No one asked him--literally no one. This isn’t how you were going to say it.

Your head whips in his direction as you look at him wide-eyed, and a panicked frown decorating your forehead.

“She does huh” Jeongguk muses with a slow understanding nod. You turn to face him. He’s grinning from ear to ear like a child. He steps towards you, to erase the already minimal distance. “I know you do” he says with a low voice, and a tiny smile that reaches his eyes.

“How?” you blink at him in confusion.

“I told you, your eyes always give you away y/n” he speaks in a gentle, calming tone which helps calm your nerves down. “In the hallway that day when you bumped into me, you were crying and when I asked why you told me to mind my own business. But then when I held your wrist you told me my girlfriend wouldn’t like it. The way you looked at me-- heartbroken, hurt, with so much anger and pain in your eyes -- I knew right then and there, my love” he reaches for both of your hands and holds them in his.

“Didn’t you ask Jihyun out?”

“That…” he tilts his head as he turns to look at Hoseok and Jimin pointing at them with his thumb. “It’s not true. It was their plan to get some kind of reaction out of you”

You turn to your best friends with a look of betrayal on your face. “What?”

“Would you have admitted your feelings otherwise?” Hoseok says defensively.

“Our work is done so we will leave,” Jimin says hurriedly already on the move and you open your mouth to chastise them but before you can they run-- as in sprint the fastest you have ever seen them before. Jeongguk chuckles watching them and you just stare at their retreating figures in disbelief.

“Well,” Jeongguk turns to you. “They aren’t wrong”

You bite your lip as you look at him. “I guess I like you”

He chuckles softly. “A guess is better than you denying it”

Silence befalls as both of you avoid each other’s gazes. Jeongguk awkwardly scratches the nape of his neck while you keep your gaze cast on the floor.

“You still like me? Despite me always brushing off your feelings?”

“Love” he nods, his voice an octave lower. “I’ll always love you. I’ll love you even when I hate you. You can break my heart, do whatever you want with it and I’ll still love you” he looks in your eyes, never once blinking.

“You’re absolutely sure?”

He blinks and his lips curve in a faint smile. “ It’s hard not to y/n. You’re amazing. My favourite thing about you is that you don’t even know how perfectly beautiful you are. You don’t see what I see and that’s your charm” he says in a low gentle voice.

“What don’t I see?”

“How loving you has made me calmer, wiser, kinder, easier, and... better” he steps towards you erasing the small amount of distance between you

“What else?” you whisper, feeling your stomach tightening in knots, and a soft quiver settling in between your thighs.

“You don’t see that you have the ability to make a man crazy with desire yet still be naive enough to not know that. It’s absolutely maddening”

“You always make it so--so hard for me, Jeon” you breathe heavily, feeling that quiet resolve to not acknowledge him deep within you break as each second passes. Because the truth is he does make it hard for you to hate him— and maybe the sun is finally coming up and reality is settling in.

“I think I am going to kiss you” his voice cuts through the silence.

You make a non-committal sound catching yourself off guard and to cover it up you clear your throat. You just look at him and hope he can understand that you are okay with it.

He leans in slowly, and wraps your hands around his waist as he pulls you in. “Stop me at anytime” he tilts his head to the side as his nose brushes past yours and then he presses his lips against yours very gently. Your lips tingle at the contact and intuitively your arms tighten around his waist as you pull him in. The gentle movements of his mouth grow stronger once your lips part and you start kissing him back.

He pulls you in further as his hand rests on the back of your head. Your toes curl from the adrenaline and you moan against his mouth. He pulls back as you take a quick breather in which he also manages to chuckle at your reaction.

“Shut up” you mumble against his mouth as you press your lips against his. You feel the heat building in every part of your body. Your face in particular feels very warm and so do your hands. Jeongguk’s lips move against yours and his hands slowly slide down to rest against the small of your back. He slightly pushes you and in you lose all your breath.

Then you’re tugging him by his shirt and jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. He supports your weight as he starts walking up the stairs like you weigh nothing for him. Somehow this simple action makes you more impatient, makes you want more because it’s just hot?

Jeongguk kicks open your ajar door with his foot and lays you down on the bed without breaking the kiss. He pulls away first as both of you pant against each other’s mouths. “I told you I am a great kisser” he heaves with a soft chuckle.

You bite his lower lip gently. “Is that all you can do?” you tease.

“Are you sure?” he smooths your hair away from your face and then cups your cheeks as he lays a soft peck on your lips.

You nod your affirmation and pull him down again in a kiss. His hands grip your sides, gently stroking up and down which makes heat pool within your stomach. His touch sends shivers down your spine. You feel his fingers under your skin as your shirt rides up.

“Stop teasing” you breathe out.

“Patience babygirl” he grins wolfishly, a tiny mischievous glint in his eyes.

He captures your lips in his once again and then moves down to the crook of your neck as he pulls the sensitive skin between his teeth softly. A laugh escapes your lips as his breath tickles. “That’s going to leave a mark” you giggle.

“That’s the point” he kisses the same spot softly. “I fucking love you”

“Show me then” you whisper.

Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate after you give him consent. His hands never rest in one place as they explore every part of your body. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he slides in and out of you, tells how beautiful he thinks you are. He doesn’t for one second let you feel uncomfortable and goes at your pace. He listens to you when you tell him what feels good and does exactly that.

“Jeon” you pant heavily as you pull him down towards you.

“You feel so damn good y/n” he pecks you on the lips as he bucks his hips in and out of you. You claw your fingers against his back giving into the rush he makes you feel. He utters a guttural sound at the contact. He continues his movements as he pushes your hair out of your face, cupping your cheek staring you directly in your eyes. “God you have no idea how beautiful you look right now” he whispers between breaths.

“Fuck” you moan as he bends down to capture your lips in his once more-- drinking in all the ecstasy running through your veins.

He’s gentle, even still as he holds you. His caresses, and touches are so soft they leave goosebumps in their wake. The moans and groans that escape past his lips only help you climax harder because you know he’s feeling good. That in itself is enough to make you come undone. When you do, Jeongguk is right there hovering above you, praising you, gently and softly kissing you as you convulse around him. Then he’s chasing his own high and your name softly passes through his lips and he falls limply on top you, kissing the crook of your neck.

He gathers you up in his arms as he rolls on his back. You cuddle against him, wrapping your arm around his torso, resting your face in the crook of his neck, leaving small feather light pecks. He’s so warm against your skin that it starts to make you feel sleepy.

“Goodnight, baby” he whispers against your forehead as he lays a gentle kiss.

Then you drift off to sleep in his arms-- safe, sound, protected, and loved.

> > > > > > >

The next morning the stupid chiming sound of your phone wakes you up. You crack an eye open and reach for it. Jeongguk’s name appears on the screen and your heart immediately starts beating faster. Last night comes to mind and you remember how he touched you, how your name had passed his lips as he had reached his high. You remember how he showed you he loved you. You remember the sweet smell of cinnamon from his skin, and the soft gentle caresses of his fingers against your skin.

You open the text with a smile.

Jeon Jerguk: breakfast is ready 💕

Breakfast?

Curious, you slide to the edge of the bed legs dangling to the floor with the intention of getting up but then you pick your phone and change Jeongguk’s name in your phone to Kookie with a heart beside it. He’s not so much of a jerk anymore.

Then you get up and upon feeling something under your feet, you look to find Jeongguk’s shirt. Your brows furrow. If his shirt is here then what is he wearing?

It turns out he isn't wearing a shirt at all. You gawk stupidly at his back which faces you while he’s making breakfast. You can see the curves of his biceps, the muscles straining in his back as he holds the pan in his hand. The deep line in the middle of his back which stops just above the hem of his jeans. You gulp hard, your fist clenching tighter on the shirt in your hand.

You clear your throat and he turns around. It was a bad idea- a really bad idea because now you can’t stop staring at him even more. It’s funny how abs have been glorified and sexualized so much that they are actually a part of a man’s sexual appeal. Unfortunately you have also fallen into that trap because you just can’t stop staring at that six pack he is sporting

“Y/n” Jeongguk grins noticing where your eyes are lurking.

“Huh?” you blink at him and then throw his shirt at him which hits his face. “Your shirt” you mumble quickly looking away.

“I was kind of hoping you would wear it” a wolffish, playful grin spreads on his mouth. But he takes the shirt and pulls it over his head and then down his torso.

“Uhh… well” you stumble for words avoiding his eyes.

“I am kidding” he starts walking towards you. He cups your cheeks before he’s placing a kiss on your forehead. “Breakfast?” he pulls away with a soft smile.

“You made breakfast?” you stare at him wide eyed, unable to hide your surprise.

“Always with the look of surprise” he says for the thousandth time.

“I just didn’t think…”

“I was hungry” he shrugs, and walks back to the stove.

You’re not surprised. He’s always hungry. There is never a moment when Jeongguk wouldn’t say he’s not hungry.

You take a seat at the island and he comes back with a plate in his hand and he places it in front of you. He leans on the counter on his elbows as he looks at you, making your stomach tighten.

You swallow hard. “French toast?” you again look at him in surprise and yet again he shakes his head.

“You really have to stop being so surprised at everything I do. It’s kind of offensive” he pouts.

“I’ll try my best not to” you take a bite. It’s actually good.

“How is it?” he looks upon you in anticipation.

“Really good” you mumble through a mouthful.

“Yes!” he punches the air

“How many girls have you done this for?” you chuckle.

“I’ll give you an actual reason to be surprised” he purses his lips. “You’re the first”

“You’re telling me-- you-- the captain of the football team, Jeon Jeongguk, have never done this before?” you point to your plate.

“Not just breakfast. Even last night. You’re the first”

“I am what!?” you gawk at him.

“You are the first girl I’ve slept with. Happy?”

He then turns around and gets his own plate, sitting down next to you. You don’t prompt him again regarding the same topic but you do feel special. Then this urge overcomes you and lean towards him and kiss him on the cheek. “You can be cute sometimes Jeon Jeongguk”

His lips spread in a wide grin and he leans in and pecks you on the corner of your mouth. “Happy to return the favor” he turns towards his plate, grabbing his fork and knife.

“So, serious question” you say just as he’s about to take a bite but stops mid-air.

“Anything” his lips tug upwards in a smile.

“What do we do now?”

“We do whatever you want, how ever you want”  he says in a gentle voice

“Okay. I would love to beat around the bush but I think you should know what happened last night, although I don’t regret it-- I just want you to know that I don’t do that. I mean at least not how quickly it happened. I am not like-“

“We’ll jump the base whenever you want to, my love. We’ll do it at your pace. You just tell me what you’re comfortable with and what is a ‘no’ for you. If you ever think I am rushing you just tell me. I don’t want to do this wrong. Especially not with you” the sincerity in his eyes is as clear as day. He’s not looking away, he’s not even blinking. He’s looking straight in your eyes and saying that which forces you to think he’s being honest. If he weren’t his body would have given him away. But he’s firm with his voice and his words.

“Thank you… Kookie” you quickly look away, slightly angling your body away from him out of sheer embarrassment. After all those sweet words, he deserves a sweet name like that doesn’t he?

He’s about to begin eating when a look of realization crosses his face and his hand stops midway to his mouth, toast dropping on the plate. “Wait what did you just call me?” he grabs your arm and spins you so you face him.

“I am just trying it out” you quickly glance at him and then rest your gaze on your lap.

“Wait, say it again” you can hear the smile in his voice. You don’t have to look up to know that he is in fact grinning.

“Kookie” you mumble.

“If I was a girl I would say my heart is going to burst and shit sprinkles all over”

“What?” you chuckle, the laughter bellowing from deep within your chest as it develops into a full bellyache.

“In other words, I love it! Please never call me anything else”

“You’re crazy” you shake your head

“Yeah. But only for you” his smile is so wide his eyes crinkle at the corners.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

You haven’t seen Jeongguk all day long because he’s been busy practicing for the friendly game against the rival college team. Even though it’s supposed to be a pre-season game things tend to get intense when the Douglas Royals visit your college.

One would think it was the final game of the season with all the banners decorating the hall, people dressed in the white and red colours of the football team with face paint on. There was barely anything happening in classes because even the professors understood that people wouldn’t be paying attention.

Your phone buzzes and you open it.

Kookie💙: if you go to my locker you’ll find a present there. I’ll see you this evening. ILY❤️

You make a U-turn from the front of the library and head to the locker room because can you say no to Jeongguk- never. Ever since you’ve been with Jeongguk the sports department has been extra nice about you going to the locker room even if it’s empty.

You skip happily to Jeongguk’s spot and find a black box waiting for you. Your heart starts beating fast in anticipation. As you close in, you realize it’s actually bigger than you thought it would be which makes you even more eager.

Unable to contain your curiosity you open the box and find something you had not been expecting with a small note attached to it.

You know you’re my lucky charm right? Wear this to the game this evening and I promise I’ll win it for you.

Yours, Kookie

>>>>>>>>>

The whole football field and the bleachers surrounding the field fill up thirty minutes before the kickoff. The team hasn’t arrived on the field and it’s only the cheerleaders doing their thing.

The moment you enter the field all eyes fall on you and whispers reach your ear.

“Isn’t that JK’s girlfriend?”

“Never thought they would get together”

“I am so jealous of her” someone whines and it automatically makes your heart swell with pride— everyone wants him but you got him.

There’s more but you tune it out because you find Hoseok waving at you. You skip down the steps and sit down next to him.

“Did the school spirit vomit all over you?” his nose scrunches when he takes in your appearance— wearing the football jersey with Jeongguk’s name and his number ‘9’ decorating your back and the number ‘9’ painted in white on your cheeks.

You clear your throat. “He left it as a present for me”

“He’s fucking whipped” Hoseok shakes his head as takes a sip of his beer.

“You made it happen so blame yourself” you nudge him teasingly.

The game begins and the whole time your eyes only follow Jeongguk. He almost gets knocked over by one of the players on the other team. But thank the heavens that Jimin is on the team because he manages to tackle the guy before Jeongguk gets thrown down. Your heart after that moment doesn’t stop thumping like it’s lost its ability to calm down.

Jeongguk is a great quarterback. He’s so good at it that you feel your chest swelling with pride on the inside every time he’s shown on the jumbotron on the opposite side of the field from you. So this is what it’s like to be his girlfriend.

The game comes to an end without anyone getting injured and your boyfriend makes it back to you in one piece.

“Yay!” he runs towards you after the game ends and you’re waiting for him outside the locker room. “You wore it”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I wore it”

“It looks good on you. Actually on second thought-- you look hot. Can we go home?”

You slap him on the shoulder. “Shut up. Let’s go eat. I’ll buy since you won and since you played so so so well. I am so proud of you”

“I don’t want food. I want you-- the best dessert ever” he winks.

“You’re disgusting Jeon Jeongguk” you shake your head and slap him on the shoulder.

“Fine” he grins as he drapes an arm over your shoulder. “Only because you’re buying, girlfriend” he kisses the side of your head as you both begin walking.

>>>>>>>>

{2 weeks later}

Jeon Jeongguk is a lot of things, but a patient man is not of those things. Eager to announce your exclusive relationship he ended up instead setting more obstacles in your way because now people were doubting your ability to write his profile. You are supposed to release it in 24 hours and still, you have nothing but a blank page staring back at you.

Of course, it doesn’t help that the updated relationship status Jeongguk tagged you in keeps getting more comments. Your phone keeps buzzing again and again and again which only strengthens your resolve to throw it against a wall. You sigh for the millionth time as you bang your head gently against your closed laptop which is sitting in your lap.

Jeongguk turns to look at you, a look of worry crossing his face. The next time you lower your head you end up hitting his hand as it floats mid air between your face and your poor laptop.

You look at him and groan. “Kookie, I am so stressed out”

He abandons his lax posture against the couch and turns to you, folding one leg under the other and then holding both your hands in his. “Remember that time when I was whining about not wanting to be the captain”

You nod.

“What did you tell me?” he asks with a soft smile

“I told you that things that are worth it take effort and time”

“Exactly. You’ve worked so hard on this. I’ve seen you. I was there every time” he opens his arms and you quickly snuggle against him wrapping your arms around his back. He rests his cheek against the top of your head as he tightens his arms around you. “You can do it”

“How do you always know the right thing to say?” you mumble as you play with the fabric of his shirt.

“Because I love you dumdum” he kisses the top of your head.

“Fine” you pull away and reach for your laptop, dragging it towards yourself while Jeongguk’s arm rests behind you on the sofa and he goes back to watching the game.

You take one look at him-- the way the lights cast shadows on his face, the way his brows are knitted together in concentration as he chews his nails. That is when you know exactly what to say.

> > > > > > >

“Y/N!” you hear Hoseok yelling as he runs into the office. “Holy shit, did you see it?” he looks at you with wide eyes-- enough to make it seem like they’ll pop out any second.

“See what?” your brows crinkle in confusion.

“Oh my god, you have to” he quickly opens up your laptop, turns it towards himself and enters the college website. He navigates to the media page where your profile about Jeongguk is posted titled: Jeon Jeongguk: The Story Untold.

“What is it?” you are very concerned because it is either very good or very bad. You hope its the former not because you care about yourself but because it's Jeongguk. You don’t want his story to receive negative comments and that too because of you-- because of someone he loves.

“It’s doing better than Josh’s profile” Hoseok turns the laptop towards you.

Your mouth opens in surprise and Hoseok watches your reaction with anticipation.There are more than thirty-thousand comments which is crazy because there aren’t even that many students in the college.

“It’s spread beyond the college”

“It's what?” you ogle at him stupidly, unable to control your surprise.

“Yeah! People have shared it on social media. The college is making rounds everywhere. Jeon Jeongguk is the talk of the town right now. Because of you!” he laughs excitedly

You blink profusely unable to comprehend what he’s saying because how can that be when twenty four hours ago you were whining to your boyfriend about it? “I- I- I don’t know what to say”

“Honey!” Hoseok yells out of excitement. “You just wrote the best profile the college has seen in a long while. You have outdone yourself. This isn’t the time for talking, this is a time for celebrating!” Hoseok is smiling so bright and wide that you can’t help but smile as well.

“Holy shit” you giggle as you get up from your chair and hug Hoseok.

He spins you around in his arms further making you giggle.

The door flings open with a thud making you and Hoseok break the hug and turn towards the sound.

“Y/n” Jeongguk stands by the door with the widest grin on his face.

With quick long strides, he walks towards you and captures your lips in a kiss, without saying a single word. All he does is kiss you, and kiss you more, and then some more. You both pull away and you find Jeongguk is positively beaming. Your heart swells with happiness upon seeing him happy.

He cups your cheeks, grin still plastered to his face. “Thank you, my baby doll” he pecks you again.

“What’s going on?”

“Look” he takes out his phone and shows it to you.

It’s an email from a scouting agent which states that one of the teams at the state level is interested in meeting with Jeongguk.

“Oh my god Kookie” your mouth remains agape in surprise. “Holy shit”

“It’s all because of your profile. They saw it, called me and said they are interested”

“That’s amazing!”

You laugh as he wraps his arms around you, lifts you and spins you around in his arms. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you so freaking much y/n” he mumbles against your shoulder as he spins you round and round until you both start to feel a little dizzy. He gently sets you down and without unlocking his arms around you.

“I am happy for you” you smile.

“I could kiss you all day long. That’s how happy I am and it’s ten times better because you made it happen” his bright expression softens as he looks into your eyes. “Thank you again”

“It’s all you Kookie. You worked hard. I just told people your story” you stand on your toes and lay a gentle kiss on his nose which makes him scrunch it as he softly chuckles.

“You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a very very very long time” he kisses your forehead in return and wraps you in a bear hug.

“And you are the best decision I have ever made” you wrap your arms around him, feeling everything all at once-- just like every time he is around you. You don’t think these fuzzy feelings will ever fade in Jeongguk’s presence even fifty years down the road when you’re both too old to jump in each others arms. You don’t think you’ll love anyone else like you love him.

And he wouldn’t give his heart away the same way to anyone the way he’s given it to you-- absolutely, completely, utterly and hopelessly.

Just as you are busy hugging the life out of each other, Hoseok clears his throat to draw your attention to him.

“Forgetting about me already?” he pouts.

You and Jeongguk pull away and chuckle. You run up to Hoseok and tackle him in a hug because if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be with Jeongguk. If he hadn’t pushed you to do the profile you would have missed out on the best thing in your life.

“Alright” Jeongguk interjects and he pulls you and Hoseok away. “That’s enough”

You shake your head at your crazy boyfriend.

As soon as you are out of Hoseok’s embrace, Jeongguk pulls you in a hug by tugging at your arm and wrapping it around his back. You rest your head against the crook of his neck and he rests his cheek against the top of your head and gently sways back and forth.

“Thanks for loving me” he mumbles in that soft gentle voice that always gets to you. Your heart sinks to your stomach.

“Thanks for teaching me how to love you” you tighten your hold around his waist and give a squeeze. Because had it not been for his kindness, his will to work hard, his gentle presence you would never have known the real Jeon Jeongguk. You would have missed out on the best thing in your life. “I love you”

“I love you more” he lays a gentle kiss on the top of your head as he sways you back and forth in his arms.

End

________________

A/N: Many thank you’s to you if you go to the end. It’s the longest thing I have ever written in my life and it took a lot of hardwork. So please show this fic love by either clicking that heart or reblogging. Thank you so much for reading it! I would love to know your thoughts as always so please do not hesitate to reach out ❤️

[molkolsdal]

Pakistan's Transgender Community Is Hiding Out in a Hostile City

As Peshawar has come under increasing sway of an extremist view of Islam, its community of transgender hijras has been increasingly marginalized.

By Beenish Ahmed, 16/05/2014 Photos by Abdul Majeed Goraya

"My father used to beat me and ask, 'Why do you have to go around pretending to be a girl?'"

Now at 35, she says her cheeks burn and fists tighten if anyone refers to her as a man.

Khushboo, whose name means fragrance, classifies herself as a hijra, a South Asian gender designation that encompasses transgender and transexual people, as well as transvestites and eunuchs.

She has a different definition for herself and the estimated hundreds of thousands of other hijras across the region. "Our souls are female and our bodies are male," she says, dipping a rag into a red plastic pail filled with a chalky mixture of water and face powder. Surrounded by a group of several other hijras in a room they call their "office," Khushboo smears the dripping rag over her face and adds, "I've known I was a hijra since I was a child."

She used to wear her sisters' clothes. At 16, Khushboo slipped out of the house in one of their outfits and didn't return home for years. Along with another hijra, she settled in Peshawar, a city in northwestern Pakistan one night's drive from the costal city of Karachi where she'd grown up.

Peshawar has long been home to cultural traditions that insist on strict gender segregation, and the city has come under increasing sway of an extremist view of Islam in recent years. These intolerant, conservative beliefs are made brutally clear through the bombings and shootings that are now near-weekly occurrences. Taliban suicide bombers killed 85 worshippers at a church there last September, and militants killed thirteen people at a cinema showing pornographic movies in February. Lesser attacks are momentary blips on local news coverage featuring bloodied streets and blaring sirens.

Khushboo points to battered doors and broken windows around her. She says young men—"college boys" she calls them—wreak havoc on her and fellow hijras who are preparing for a dance performance later that night. Sometimes the men recite scripture and beat the hijras to shame them out of their profession as dancers, and other times they force them to dance or even rape them, she tells me.

Despite the extremism that has only further marred the city since her arrival nearly 20 years ago, Khushboo has an affinity for Peshawar because it's where she had a sort of rebirth as her new self.

Free from the abuse of her father and brothers, as well as the sense of dishonor she felt on behalf of her mother and sisters, Khushboo embraced a new life of openness—and was adopted into a new family.

"In this field we have mothers. We have gurus. We have uncles and aunts," she says, and then points to a girl who's rolling a spliff in the corner of the room. "She's my daughter. I'm a daughter of someone so she has a grandmother too. And," Khushboo adds, "She also has a father."

That last bit comes so quickly that I almost miss it. I inquire further about the girl's "papa" and Khushboo says, "Her father is married to someone else, but he loves me." She then goes on to explain what their relationship entails—and it's all very practical until it gets utterly tragic: "If I'm sick, he comes by and brings me medicine," she says proudly. "If I don't have money he drops some cash off. If I die, it's this man who will dress me up as a man and take my body to his house to carry out the cemetery. He might not explain the full story and just say that I was killed in the market or that there was some kind of shooting, but he's the one who will take care of the funeral."

I can't help but think that this grim possibility is one that Khushboo has discussed with her "husband"—and one that he too has come to terms with.

"In Pakistani society, there is a really strong [sense of] place and family," says Dr. Jamil Ahmad Chitrali, a professor of anthropology. "There is no alternative for anyone."

Based at the University of Peshawar, Chitrali has written about the city's hijra community. He says that by forging the same sorts of familial connections that they left behind, hijras create a social order that mimics the very society from which many of them fled.

"It's forcing all those revolutionary individuals who are against those binaries of man and woman to come into a structure which is reaffirming patriarchy," he says.

Pakistan's hijras have made some strides in recent years despite their rather isolated existence. In 2012, the Pakistani Supreme Court allowed for a "third gender" category to be added to national identity cards, which effectively gave hijras increased legal standing. It's because of this broader recognition that hijras could vote in that year's presidential election—at least five hijras even ran for office.

But the third gender classification has made little practical difference in Khusbhoo's life. "We live in a third world," she says, the difference between her life and that of a cisgender person just as stark as the difference between life in Pakistan, and say, Monaco.

And, she says, no matter what she does, she'll always be seen as different.

"Even if I give up dancing, everyone will still call me a hijra so what's the point? Why not do what I love?" She adds that even if she were to become a traveling evangelist, her family would still regard her with the same disdain. "I'm better off staying a hijra."

And that's the hardest thing that Khushboo has to face: her family. She got back in touch with them after five years of not speaking, and goes to see them in Karachi at least once a year. But when she does, she goes dressed as a man.

Though she moves about as a woman in Peshawar, Khushboo wears a black floor length, full-sleeved robe (or abaya), and a face covering (or niqab) that reveals only her eyes to hide herself from prying eyes. Even so, she's been thrown out of several houses by people who fear hijras will ruin their neighborhood.

While they occupy a marginalized space across Pakistan, hijras are probably worst off in Peshawar. In all of the other major cities in the country, they are frequent sites at traffic intersections or in shopping centers where they offer a prayer for a few rupees. Many passersby fear denying them might mean a curse and so will either oblige quickly or turn away completely.

I've spent a lot of time in Peshawar over the years, and have never seen hijras out in public the way they are in other cities. After speaking with Professor Chitrali, I learned that might be because hijras have a different role in the Pathan society that dominates the Peshawar area. In this part of the country, hijras aren't seen to have some sort of greater spiritual connection than cisgender people—instead, their role is celebratory. They're often asked to sing and dance at weddings and births.

"It's their performance which gives [a family] social recognition," Chitrali says, though the tradition is fading as weddings move from family houses into wedding halls. Some might have other professions—Khushboo says she has hijra friends who are lawyers and pilots and act cisgender in order to maintain their jobs, though they're free to "be themselves" with her and other hijras. Due to a lack of societal acceptance, many hijras live marginalized lives as low-income entertainers, but they've got a bit of a role as educators, too. Hijras sometimes teach—or even initiate—young men into sex. For many in Peshawar who live by strict religious and cultural codes that denounce almost any pre-marital interaction between the sexes as sinful, hijras provide a sort of in-between, or a "cushion," as Chitrali calls it.

"If you cross the domain of manhood into womanhood, that is against the culture, that is crossing your limits. But you can always move into the gray area, so this hijra community, in that sense, in a clear binary of man and woman among Pathans, [forms] a gray area." But he says that this "learning experience" is becoming less common with such how-to's readily available on the internet.

In Peshawar's increasingly religiously-motivated milieu, the presence of hijras—be they dancers or sex workers—is frowned upon and politicians vie for favor by pushing them out of their homes and worksites.

Seeing this, Malik Iqbal says he wanted to do something. "I sympathize with them because no one gives them any space," he tells me.

He rents out the office that Khusboo and her fellow hijras use to prepare for their dances.

"I didn't used to be on their side," Iqbal says. "Now I help them. I say they're humans too. We should have some empathy for that reason. Not just me, everyone should empathize with them as people."

But some believe Iqbal's connection to hijras goes beyond a shared humanity. Though he refuses to speak about it, Iqbal was arrested in 2010 for attempting to marry a hijra called Rani. Such a union would be illegal under Pakistani law, which only recognizes marriages between men and women. He has repeatedly denied the charge and claimed that police were trying to extort money from hijras at an event that wasn't a marriage but an innocent birthday party. Either way, the shock the story garnered reveals just how far removed everyday Pakistanis are from the hijra community. A big-grossing film called Bol, or Speak—released in 2011—may have helped some, but real connections like Iqbal's remain few.

And not everyone in close proximity to hirjas is sympathetic. Noor Illahi, who owns a grain shop down the street from the hijras' office, doesn't have a problem with the hijras themselves or even their work, but thinks they should find some other place to go. "My work has suffered because of them. The other storeowners and I, we think they should be given some place off to the side. It should be separate."

He's worked in his store for 15 years and says that sales have dropped fifty percent since the hijras set up shop next door a few years ago. "There are a lot of fights here now. They create quite a scene sometimes."

The raucousness has driven away his customers. Those who stop in the area are more interested in the hijras than the sacks of flour he has for sale.

"I'm not personally offended by them. But look," he says, pointing to a group of several white shalwar kameez-clad men loitering outside the hijra's building. "These poor people have earned just three or four hundred rupees all day ($3-4) and they'll come here and waste it all on them."

The men are all rickshaw drivers. One by one, they go on the record to deny being there to solicit sex. "We're just here to chit chat with them," one says while peering over his shoulder to see if any of the hijras have come out into the alley. "It's a totally innocent relationship that we have with them."

Back up in the hijras' office, the lights have gone out as a part of the rolling power outages that have frustrated Pakistanis for years. It might be another hour before they're ready to leave for their performance. When they do, they'll be cloaked in massive shawls and under the cover of night.

[prosopopeya]

New Year’s Meme

this survey has been a tradition among my friend group for YEARS, but i haven’t filled it out since 2015 apparently. i’m not entirely sure why except 2016 was the year a lot of stuff changed for me, namely in that i finally got out of school in some form and started a new job, but i also had a few health problems that kept plaguing me (thyroid medicine being off, vitamin d) and my anxiety was all over the place. so here we go i’m doing it again and feel free to do it too if you want!!

1. What did you do in 2020 that you’d never done before? tried on wedding dresses. taught virtually. dealt (poorly) with drunk teenagers. performed in a pep rally. wore face masks all the time. i’m going to lump in living with someone. jon moved in october 2019, but i don’t think i did this quiz last year so. taught ap.

2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions and will you make more for next year? i don’t really like resolutions. they put too much pressure on me and i am a fragile person when it comes to setting expectations and living up to them. i did want to try to read more this year, and i maintained that until the pandemic, and then just kind of gave up requiring myself to do anything but live.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? i don’t think so. a coworker did.

4. Did anyone close to you die? jon’s cousin committed suicide in march or april. the circumstances were pretty upsetting. um. andy died in february, very suddenly. andy was my high school boyfriend for four years with whom i had a very... he scarred me in a lot of ways when it comes to sex and consent. it’s taken me a long time to unpack all of that. and i struggle with how much any of that was his fault or just bc he was a stupid kid too. our mutual friends had nothing but nice things to say about him on fb. anyway. he would guilt me into saying he’d kill himself if we broke up, and jon’s cousin killed himself over his girlfriend. so that was a complex part of the year.

5. What countries did you visit? none. literally the week before the quarantine, we went to asheville to visit jon’s cousin.

6. What would you like to have in 2021 that you lacked in 2020? maybe a different job? or at least some peace at doing mine.

7. What date from 2020 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? march 13 we cancelled classes and had a technology training day; the 15th we had another one, and then we were virtual the rest of the term. it was such a sudden shift and while i so loved working from home tbh, it was such a relief after a supremely shitty january/february work-wise, i still had a lot of keyed-up, stressful days centered around transitioning to being the senior upper school spanish teacher. i hate it!

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? writing 50k in the month of november. i have literally never done that before and actively reject nano as being typically unhealthy for how my mind works, so it was nice to do it entirely by accident.

9. What was your biggest failure? mishandling the drunken teenagers on that field trip in january.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? i sit crosslegged in my virtual teaching chair and i did it so much that my ankle hurt for the entire summer.

11. What was the best thing you bought? we put a deposit on our elopement in ireland. jon’s wedding ring. (i didn’t buy my wedding dress.)

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? my best friend at work who keeps me sane and is represented by benny in my au, which other than the fact that he is not my sidepiece, is perfect he is crucial to my survival at work and i love him so much. (also he is gay and the french teacher so the benny parallels just keep coming). everyone who tore down a statue in virginia (and other places, but especially monument avenue). everyone putting their lives on the line during this pandemic.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? guess! but aside from all the obvious, i found out a friend of mine at work voted for trump. my work bff and i had been trying for years to sway his politics, but that had us both deciding to give up on him.

14. Where did most of your money go?  food, ALCOHOL. god., our savings account. i did a pretty excellent job saving this year, though a good deal of that is because jon moved in and makes more money than me, and also we split all the bills.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? my wedding dress but strangely only when i went to try it on after it came in bc after the purchase i was so sure i’d made every mistake possible. my wedding band. wellbutrin changing my whole life. and, last but certainly not least, the gay angel and the bi(lingual) hunter. i wouldn’t have survived nov-dec in school without that distraction. the election.

16. What song(s) will always remind you of 2020? the entirety of taylor swift’s oeuvre this year, maybe specifically “this is me trying”

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:  i. Happier or sadder? happier, i suppose, perhaps contrary to what should be the case, but wellbutrin is a hell of a drug. ii. Older or wiser? wiser. ii. Richer or poorer? richer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? reading. cleaning. exercising.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? stressing. chaperoning.

20. How will you be spending Christmas? so, an update; last year was the first year i didn’t go to my mom’s for christmas. i was supposed to see her for thanksgiving last year, but she basically told us not to come bc she wasn’t feeling up to it (cool!), and we went to jon’s for christmas and my mom’s for new year’s. 

this year, obviously we couldn’t go to my mom’s. instead, we rented a little cabin by the lake. it was perfect; it was really really nice inside, the beds were SO SOFT, the pillows were the best things i have ever laid my head on, like i took off the pillowcases to try to find the brand. we had a little tiny christmas tree with tiny ornaments from walmart that we decorated. the 23rd, we went and picked up our wedding bands. we slept two nights in the (cold) back bedroom so i could wake up and look out at the lake. it snowed for christmas. :)

we opened presents on christmas eve, per jon’s family’s tradition. on christmas eve, we also went to his family farm and sat outside and hung out a little. every year his family does like a secret santa sort of thing and i got my first present in that exchange, which is notable bc jon and i are not yet officially married. i got a remote control car -- jon’s idea bc i couldn’t think of anything, and he was so delighted to hear that i loved playing with rc cars when we went to the beach as a kid.

christmas morning we facetimed my parents and opened some presents together. then jon and i marathoned mandalorian (after spending the previous few days watching several die hard movies), and then we watched wonder woman 1984 which was a bad movie.

21. How will you be spending New Year’s Eve? ok LAST year for new year’s, we were in a hotel room, so that was nice, bc it meant minimal stress with my parents. i had always wanted to go to this restaurant near us that has a special new year’s menu, so we did that. the night before or after i think we went to cheesecake factory, which was also amazing.

this year currently i’m tumbling and he’s playing pokemon, and in a bit we’ll try to time it so we finish schitt’s creek in time for the new year.

22. Did you fall in love in 2020? i re-fell in love with supernatural so that was nice.

23. How many one-night stands? 0. i submit we should randomly change question 23 each year to something more relevant to any of our life experiences.

24. What was your favorite TV program? what did i even watch this year. schitt’s creek. mandalorian. i mean obviously we know supernatural. the circle. are you the one (the queer season). pose. unsolved mysteries. we’re here! perry mason. watchmen. oh maybe that mcdonald’s monopoly fraud documentary. avenue 5. i’ll be gone in the dark. of those i think my favorite maybe is... pose or we’re here.

OKAY UM. on my 2014 version of this there were a bunch of questions about tv shows that i’m putting back in if only for the memories:

25. Which TV shows did you start watching in 2020? the haunting of bly manor, which we still need to finish. derry girls.

26. Which TV shows did you let go of in 2020? HERE’S WHY I WANTED TO RESURRECT THESE. here was my answer in 2015: “supernatural. goodbye, my sweet prince.” CAN YOU EVEN FUCKING BELIEVE

27. Which TV shows did you mean to get into but didn’t in 2020? Why? so far, queen’s gambit and that one on hulu with catherine the great. EVENTUALLY. 28. Which TV shows do you intend on checking out in 2020? fleabag. queen’s gambit. 29. Which TV show do you think you might let go of in 2020 unless things significantly improve? idk i drop things pretty regularly if they don’t entertain me 30. Which TV show impressed you least in 2020? GUYS HERE��S MY ORIGINAL 2015 ANSWER: “supernatural. :(”

anyway back to the rest of the quiz:

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? every person who refuses to listen to facts and information.

26. What was the best book you read? killers of the flower moon: the osage murders and the birth of the fbi, or the his dark materials series.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery? well i knew about tswift so i’m not going to count her albums. i will count this song that jon played for me once in the car that got stuck in my head for two weeks straight and led me down into a great related-songs spotify playlist: through the roof ‘n underground.

28. What did you want and get? a wedding dress and a very specific kind of wedding band. a gay angel. a christmas getaway. animal crossing.

29. What was your favorite film of this year? idk i don’t know how many films i saw this year. maybe mucho mucho amor: the legend of walter mercado

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? i was 32. we went to an escape room with a BUNCH of people -- work bff, my old work bff and his wife (old bc he quit and we’ve fallen out of touch :(), the cool new physics teacher and his fiancee, and the aforementioned trump voter and his wife, before we knew... we went out for brunch/lunch after. it was pretty great!

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? not having to chaperone that school trip in january. dean being bi in english as well as spanish. cas just ilke, appearing in 15x20. not having to physically go back to work this fall.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2020? no! real! pants!

34. What kept you sane? jon. supernatural (in a way?). animal crossing for a while. wellbutrin! i haven’t really been able to detail this yet, but finally i did something about tumblr and my therapist making me think about adhd. my doctor gave me wellbutrin (bc i lack any official diagnosis and was on anxiety meds anyway, and he was like let’s try this!) and it’s fucking. it’s a fucking godsend. surprisingly enough, my students. trying to provide them a safe space has been a calming thing for me.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? jensen ackles’ silence. misha collins again, i guess.

36. What political issue stirred you the most? the summer was so fucking intense. i guess though it was me trying to exert my influence in a responsible way with my students without trying to try to make them feel uncomfortable but then one kid was a vocally upset trump supporter after the election and i had to try to defuse that situation.

37. Who did you miss? my old work bff. several old friends that i’ve fallen out of touch with bc i have no object permanence.

38. Who was the best new person you met? people i met through the spn resurgence!

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2020: if you manifest it in an au, it will come. no really though. maybe that expectations are only as important as i make them out to be.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: usually i have a hard time coming up with anything for this and i default to looking at my most played songs of the year. my most played song of the year received each and every one of its plays within the month of november and you can guess why. anyway see if this works

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Take me back to the night we met - the night we met, lord huron

[covencloud]

What Women’s Equality Day Means For Women in the United States

How many times have you heard that a woman’s place is in the home? How often have you been told to make yourself smaller and less visible, to make others (men) comfortable? It is disheartening and embarrassing that women still have to fight for equal rights and respect in the 21st century, but fight, we will. In honor of Woman’s Equality Day this week, I want to share what equality means to me as a woman and a pagan.

What is Women’s Equality Day?

Every year, on August 26, we celebrate women’s equality day. This holiday commemorates the woman’s suffrage movement and celebrates all that American women have accomplished since gaining their right to vote. This is the day the 19th Amendment was first signed into law in 1971 by President Richard Nixon, which is why it is also referred to as Nixon Day. Although we have come a long way since then, we still have a long way to go. A recent study showed that 40% of women don’t feel safe walking alone at night, and 56% feel unsafe when riding public transportation or walking alone at night near home.

A quick history of women’s rights in the United States

At one point in history, women were considered less than men. They couldn’t vote or hold office; they weren’t legally recognized as people at all, not even when it came to violent crimes against them. Fast forward to now: We’ve made a lot of progress—it’s hard to imagine a world where woman are constantly denied their human rights. But it happened (and still happens) every day.

March 31, 1776: In a letter to her husband, Founding Father John Adams, future first woman Abigail Adams made supplication to him and the Continental Congress to “remember the ladies and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the husbands. Remember, all men would be tyrants if they could. If particular care and attention is not paid to the ladies, we are determined to foment a rebellion and will not hold ourselves bound by any laws in which we have no voice or representation.”

July 19-20, 1848: The Seneca Falls Convention was held in New York City with 300 attendees. The convention was the first women’s rights convention organized by Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott. The Declaration of Sentiments was signed by 68 women and 32 men, including Frederick Douglass. The document sparked decades of activism, eventually leading to the passage of the 19th Amendment, which we celebrate today.

January 23, 1849: The first woman graduates from med school and becomes a doctor, Elizabeth Blackwell, MD. She graduated from Geneva College in New York with the highest grades in her entire class.

May 29, 1851: Sojourner Truth delivered the famous “Ain’t I a Woman” speech at the Women’s Rights Convention in Akron Ohio. As a former slave, turned activist Sojourner stated, “And ain’t I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have plowed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain’t I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man—when I could get it—and bear the lash as well! And ain’t I a woman? I have borne 13 children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother’s grief, none but Jesus heard me! Ain’t I a woman?”

December 10, 1869: Wyoming passed the first woman’s suffrage law in America, thus granting women the right to vote and hold office. Late, in 1890 Wyoming was the 44th state admitted to the Union and became the first state to allow women to vote.

May 15, 1869: Susan B Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton founded the National Woman Suffrage Association.

October 16, 1916: Margaret Sanger opened the first birth control clinic in the United States.

April 2, 1917: The first woman was elected to Congress as a member of the House of Representatives – Jeanette Rankin of Montana.

August 18, 1920: Ratification of the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution is completed, declaring “the right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex.”

May 20-21, 1932: Amelia Earhart became the first woman pilot ever to fly solo nonstop across the Atlantic.

Read more about this history of women’s rights here

How can we honor the divine feminine by fighting for gender equality?

When stories about regular women are ignored, stories about goddesses are often buried, never to resurface again. Women’s empowerment can come in many forms, including the rediscovery of ancient cultural beliefs and stories that glorify the divine feminine.

In an age where feminism has become mainstream and gender equality has become more of a social norm, how can we honor goddesses like Isis, Hecate, Aphrodite, Artemis, Hera, Kali, and other Goddesses? Where do we find inspiration to fight for woman’s rights when so many women are fighting already? The answer is simple:

Learn from their fight.

Learn from these goddesses (both in the mortal realm and beyond) who fought tirelessly to achieve power and respect.

Read the stories of your ancestors.

Reflect on them.

Find strength and wisdom in these ancient tales.

Our fight is not over until every woman is free with equal opportunity to love, be loved, and have their voice heard. We are mighty beyond measure, and we will continue to fight as our ancestors have until our battle is won.

Carry on, sisters!

View this blogpost on our website: https://coven.cloud/2021/08/26/what-womens-equality-day-means-for-women-in-the-us/

[foolgobi65]

Ram/Sita + spy au+ friends to lovers + “you know i’ll do anything for you”

lol this...AGAIN....spun out of my control.....and is apparently 6020 words while still having massive massive holes in characterization and plot and ...general stuff..lol. anyways hope u like it? it ended up being way less Spy Spy and more ....arranged marriage au...... because everything i’ve written has basically been that now lol and raazi is the only spy movie i could think of that works bc rama and sita dont have mr and mrs smith vibes to me. love u!!!!!!

----

“Are you serious?” 

The face on the screen is somehow almost as familiar as Sita’s own -- she’s never been one for the gossip rags, but at some point, it’s almost harder not to know the features of someone who’s been famous since his parents announced his conception. 

“You know him, then.” Sita’s handler Kaikeyi seems remarkably even-tempered for a woman charging Sita, her top recruit, to attach herself to the arm of Kaikey’s stepson -- a boy that the papers seem to believe Kaikeyi prefers even to her own Bharata. Sita raises an incredulous eyebrow before realizing that Kaikeyi does actually expect Sita to recite what she knows about her newest target. 

“Ramachandra Raghav,” Sita recites from memory, “but the papers call him Ram. Only son of Dasaratha and his first wife Kausalya, sole presumptive inheritor to the Kosala industries fortune. Dasaratha Raghav and his wife publicly struggled to conceive and adopted a daughter, Shanta, nine years before they had Ram whose birth coincided with the release of Dasartha’s final film and his entry into politics.” Sita purses her lips, unsure if she should continue, but Kaikeyi remains impassive. “Dasaratha and Kausalya divorced when Ram was five, and three months later Dasaratha married you.” Judiciously Sita chooses not to include the fact that Kaikeyi, who during her acting days had only been paired with the already greying movie star, reportedly delivered her eight-pound son Bharata three months early. 

Kaikeyi rolls her eyes, still the same striking green that had made her first film such a hit. “Of course I was pregnant when we got married. What else.” 

Sita racks her mind. “The custody case was unusual -- Kausalya shifted to America with her children, but Dasaratha petitioned for them to stay with him in India. Shanta was 16 and decided to finish school abroad with Kausalya, but the courts decided that Ram would spend alternate years with each parent until he reached his majority.” It was the oddity of the arrangement that kept the Indian public so desperate for news about what otherwise might have been just another star-turned-politician’s son: pictures of Bharata, who was constantly being presented at building openings, movie premiers and other assorted Party functions went for nearly a quarter of the price as those of Ram whose arrival at the Delhi airport became more and more of a national event in sync with his father’s increasing political power. The exoticism of his American English was viewed with as much pride as his unaccented Hindi which the Party often used to great effect, having him canvass his father’s constituents on camera the year Dasaratha was put forward as the party’s candidate for Chief Minister and releasing them online. 

But it has been a few years since Ram was last in India for more than a month or so’s vacation -- at 16 he graduated from school and sent the Indian media into near paralytic shock when he decided to attend university in Delhi. Not even three years dimmed the public’s fascination, which quickly turned into genuine discontent when it was announced that Ram had accepted an offer to do his doctorate in California and had barely been seen in India since. 

“You want me to investigate a Chief Minister’s son?” Again, Sita leaves unsaid the rumors that swirl even in headquarters -- that Dasaratha’s relative competency at state-wide management has made him a viable candidate for even higher office. That after the last election’s dismal results, it is apparent that Dasaratha might be the only remaining Party figure popular enough to lead a coalition that would bring them to power in the Centre after nearly a decade at the periphery. 

Kaikeyi laughs. “Not quite,” she says, still perfect red lips twisting in a faint smile, “Ram is in New York now working for the UN, and it seems that he will have a long and illustrious career in diplomacy which will bring him into contact with all sorts of people of interest to our national security agencies. We need someone at his side to make sure that those contacts are being utilized to their full potential.” 

Sita frowns. “He’s too young to need a trusted aide or a secretary.” 

“Correct. That’s why we’re sending you to New York as his wife.” 

-- 

When Sita is 18, a woman comes up to her on the street asking if she’d like to be a model. As a laugh Sita shows up at what the woman’s business card says is the head-hunting agency’s main office only to be quickly moved to a backroom, divested of her backpack, phone and shoes and investing her with a new lifelong wariness of strangers with offers too good to be true. Her father is the aging yet venerable University President -- they don’t have the money for ransom, but Sita just as quickly rules out potential trafficking since her father has one or two connections that would raise quite the fuss if he informed them that his daughter was missing. But before she can think of another reason behind her apparent kidnapping, the door opens, and Sita’s life changes with the incoming rush of bright light into the dark room. 

“You’re..” she splutters, eyes raking up and down the perfect figure of the woman in front of her. 

“Yes,” Kaikeyi Raghav says, sunglasses perched delicately at the top of her head as she adjusts the pallu of her elegant chiffon sari. “I’m sorry for all the confusion, but we really needed to get you alone before we could try and talk to you.” 

“Talk,” Sita rasps, suddenly hyper aware of her own dry throat. Kaikeyi sighs, clapping her hands once before taking a bottle of water that appeared almost instantly at the door’s threshold, opening the cap and offering it to Sita who gulps it down. “Talk about what?” Sita asks. 

“One of our associates brought you to our attention about a year ago thinking that with some work you could be turned into something quite extraordinary.” Kaikeyi brings up her right hand to pull down her hair from its updo, the cascades only making her more breathtaking to Sita, whose father always had a soft spot for the old Dasaratha-Kaikeyi films. “I’ve been observing you ever since, and recently came to the same conclusion.” 

Sita can’t help but glow at the praise, even as she tries to keep her sense of rationality -- she’s been kidnapped after all, even if by one of the nation’s most illustrious figures. First: “Are you trying to traffick me into sex work?” 

Kaikeyi laughs, and the sound is clear and captivating like a bell. The more Sita watches, the smaller details begin to stand out -- a mole just slightly to the right of Kaikeyi’s collarbone, the green of the embroidery that brings out those colors in her eyes, the red fingernails that perfectly match Kaikeyi’s lips. 

“Do I look like a pimp?” Kaikeyi’s tone is one that does not truly seek a response, though Sita is not sure she even has one. The proclivities of the rich and powerful are rumored to skew to the truly scandalous, and there is no reason that an elegant woman could not be the front for the procurement of such services. 

“Then is this supposed to be recruitment for politics?” Sita has never thought herself particularly gifted at deception, which seems to be the first requirement for a fruitful career of public service. 

“No,” Kaikeyi laughs again, “but I find it interesting that you didn’t consider that I might be signing you on as a heroine.” 

“I don’t have a face for film,” Sita says, “and I have no intention of leaving Delhi.” 

“You have exactly the face for film,” Kaikeyi counters, “but I agree -- your mind would be as wasted as mine in Bombay.”  

“Then politics?” Sita, who was born and brought up in Calcutta before her father was given a position in Delhi had never given much thought to the Raghav’s stronghold Ayodhya -- she can’t imagine what Kaikeyi could possibly see in her. 

Kaikeyi shakes her head. “What do you know about this country’s intelligence services?” 

Sita blinks. “You want me to be a spy?” 

-- 

Five years after their first meeting, Sita has learned how to handle all sorts of weapons including her own body, how to speak a dozen languages, how to scope out a room. In some strange way, Kaikeyi seems to have filled the gaping hole left behind by Sita’s long-dead mother Sunaina, who Sita is not entirely sure would approve of what her daughter decided to make of her life. There isn’t quite a bond of affection, but there is loyalty beyond even what Sita would have given her own mother -- no better proof than the fact that here Sita is agreeing to marry Kaikeyi’s stepson entirely because Kaikeyi demanded it, where Sunaina would have had quite the shock if she had tried to suggest a man for Sita to wed. Sita had dreamed of marrying for love, but loyalty she reasons is close enough. 

Ostensibly, Sita has finished her MA with high honors and works at an NGO that enjoys Kaikeyi’s patronage -- this, they decide, is how the papers will be told Kaikeyi knows Sita. There are a few strategically leaked photos of Kaikeyi first paying the NGO a visit, then taking Sita out for a series of lunches. Sita finally travels to the ancestral Raghav mansion in Ayodhya for Diwali, bringing along her father to meet and pay his respects to his favorite screen star. 

“You must be Sita’s father,” Dasaratha booms when they approach, somehow brimming with the same vitality and presence that drew such crowds to the theater in his youth. He grins, left arm wound around Kaikeyi’s waist at his side as he turns to speak to Sita. “My wife has grown old and taken up matchmaking to pass the time, but from what I have seen you would be a fine choice for my Ram.” 

Janaka stiffens at Sita’s side, hearing about such an arrangement for the first time, but Dasaratha’s charisma pulls him into its orbit as Dasaratha reaches out his hands. “I confess that I was never well educated myself, but I believe it would only bring me and my family honor to be able to call someone as learned as yourself ‘Brother.’” 

Janaka is sold. Sita, who has never been quite sure about the real dynamic between Kaikeyi and her husband, realizes with some relief that there is genuine fondness, even love, in the smile she flashes her husband. Perhaps there might be hope for Sita herself. 

Dasaratha insists that the informal engagement is enough to justify Sita and her father’s extended stay at the mansion. After one day, he calls Ram himself informing his son that Dasaratha has found him a wife. Within a week, the news reports that Dasaratha’s eldest son has found himself back on Indian soil. 

Sita finally leaves the mansion two weeks after Diwali with the instruction that she must treat the property as her own home whenever she returns to India -- after all, Dasaratha booms, she is his beloved Ram’s wife now, and Dasaratha’s daughter now as much as Janaka’s. 

-- 

“So,” Sita says on their first night, sitting on what's supposed to be their marital bed,  “what name should I call you?” 

Her husband raises an eyebrow, silent just as he has been for almost the entire week since he was called home. Kaikeyi, when Sita asked for details, had not elaborated on the character of her stepson nor had she offered details about how Sita might best seduce him. 

“Follow your instincts,” Kaikeyi had said, smiling at Sita’s frustration. “You’ll know what I mean when you spend time with him.” 

Well, Sita thinks perversely, her instincts are telling her to confess everything to the man she has promised herself to in front of her father, and God almighty. Somehow, she is meant to maintain a lifelong relationship with a man she is only now speaking to, and to mine his contacts for information to send back to her handler, his stepmother. 

“The papers call you Ram,” Sita says, only a little sullen at the thought of the task ahead of her, “as does your family. Is that what you prefer to go by?” 

“My father’s family,” he corrects mildly, and Sita immediately flushes at the mistake. Kaushalya and Shanta had of course come, but arrived only the night before the wedding -- Sita had met them both the morning of, but only enough to touch their feet and have Kaushalya cluck, teary-eyed, over the beauty of Sita in her wedding sari. 

“Of course,” Kaushalya had said off-handedly to Shanta standing at her side, “Kaikeyi has always had excellent taste.” Sita had not trusted herself to answer. 

“Will we live with your mother in America?” Sita has been provided with what she considers shockingly little information regarding her future living situation -- Kaikeyi insists that, largely, this assignment requires Sita to effectively live her own life and as such being more information than provided a new wife would only detract from her performance. 

He shakes his head. “My mother and Shanta live in New York too, but Shanta needed to be closer to Columbia and...” he looks away, suddenly just slightly awkward. “Things changed so much for Mother throughout my life that I think she was finally able to find some type of stability when I was away at university. When it turned out that I was moving back, I didn’t want to be the one to throw her life back into flux.” 

Sita nods. “Are you close?” 

Her husband hums, fingers of one hand slightly worrying at the hem of a blanket. “As much as I can be, having spent every other year away.” 

Sita can’t imagine -- for years, the story of the boy caught so explicitly between two worlds has always been interesting or amusing, but now that she’s confronted with him in the flesh she knows that it must have been sad, too. She tries to imagine a mother committing to the notion that the child she waves off at the airport gate would not be the one who returned, and finds that it’s impossible. 

“It must have been difficult,” she offers, not elaborating on whether she is speaking of her husband’s family, or himself. 

He nods. “Father and Mother Kaikeyi always had Bharata, and the Party. I was glad when Mother found Sumitra and the boys.”

Sita’s eyes widen. “A friend?” 

He turns his body to look at her for the first time head-on. “No,” he says, eyes boring into Sita’s, exuding the same gravitational force as his father. “Her wife. The boys are my Father’s during a...period of disagreement with Mother Kaikeyi, and when Sumitra decided to keep them Mother brought her to New York to have the children. They fell in love.”

This is a test, Sita realizes, and for the first time, she realizes the wisdom of Kaikeyi’s lack of preparatory material even as she curses Kaikeyi in equal measure. She would have liked to have not been blindsided, but there is a truth to her reaction she could never have mimicked so effectively. Her mind roils with the amount of information relayed in such few sentences -- Dasaratha, already so old, still fathering sons. Kaikeyi and her husband having a disagreement so strident it sent him into another’s arms. Kausalya, raising more of Dasaratha’s children as her own. Kausalya, in love with a woman. 

Her silence has drawn on too long during her contemplation, and her husband’s eyes have gone cold as he leans away from her. 

“You call her Sumitra,” she decides on, “but if she’s your mother’s wife, should I call her mother in law as well?” 

Her husband is wide-eyed himself for a moment, but then his face cracks into a smile just dripping with sudden, unexpected delight. Sita’s heart skips a beat at the sight. 

“It would make her very happy if you did,” he says. “And as for me, my mother has always insisted on calling me Ramachandra and none of my siblings use my name at all. You can call me whatever you’d like.”  

---

“Rama!” Sita exclaims, trying to rise from the chair behind her desk and managing to trip on the hanging sleeve of the sweater she had been sitting on. She laughs, picking herself up off the ground. “Oh, and you brought the boys too!” 

It’s been a year since Sita moved to New York, a year in which she’s found fulfilling work at a South Asian women’s shelter, learned how to navigate herself via subway to find the best of ten different cuisines in New York, read three books related to Shanta’s new area of interest, featured in the boys’ Instagram Lives over 20 different times, and found herself a best friend in the form of her husband. 

Ram, she had decided, was how the public knew him even if his father’s family chose the same. Ramachandra was much too long. Rama was short, sweet, vowels easy in Sita’s mouth. 

“No one calls me that,” he’d said when she’d first used the name, his tone again one of unexpected delight. “I’ve always thought it was strange that they never did.” 

Sita’s due a lunch break, but she’s always been prone to eating at her desk unless she’s eating out -- a budgeted, once weekly expense she keeps track of after the humiliating exorbitancy of her first month’s bill. 

“We have money,” Rama had said, bemused at Sita’s profuse apologies. “I’ve got a trust fund, but my salary certainly pays well enough for this.” He’d glanced at the bill Sita had handed him as she had wrung her hands in front of him, so unsure of how she’d managed to spend so much. “It looks like this is mostly just restaurant charges anyway, and,” he’d looked up at Sita with a smile, rising to hold her hands before she could twist them again, “you live in New York now. I’m glad that you’ve spent the last month trying all sorts of the things the city has to offer. It’s exactly what I did when I moved back, except I probably spent twice as much.” 

Sita had felt the first of many twin pangs at his kindness -- one pang of joy, at being with someone so well suited to herself, and another of sorrow when she thought of how their relationship was founded on a lie. Kaikeyi had told Sita that there was no need to actively seek out contacts for at least the first year, and so the extent of her real work was having regular conversations with Kaikeyi that easily blurred the line between professional and personal relationships. 

“Is he any good at sex,” Kaikeyi had asked one day after asking for a report about Rama’s “family situation” which Sita found distressingly similar to the inquiries of a second wife wondering about her husband’s former paramours. Sita had hung up. 

“Sita?” Sita starts, bringing herself out of her reverie and smiling. 

“Sorry,” she says, grabbing her coat. “I was just thinking about something.” 

“Something interesting?” He takes the coat and holds it out for Sita to slip her arms into, smoothing down the lapels when she turns around. “I spent the whole morning stuck in the single least productive set of meetings, and knowing them they’re probably arguing about what appetizers to get for lunch. I’ve never felt as lucky as I did when I told them all that, unfortunately, I’d already logged that I was taking a half-day to take care of my brothers.” 

The boys scowl. “We’re thirteen years old,” Lakshmana says. Shatrughana nods in agreement. “We could have gone home by ourselves!”

Sita flashes Rama a smile, leaning down with an expression as if in deep thought. “That’s true enough -- if you’d like we can send you home and just join you after I finish work, but aren’t your moms on a health kick right now?” 

Lakshmana, always the more suspicious of the pair, crosses his arms. “And?” 

“Well,” Sita drawls, hearing Rama snort softly next to her, “your brother and I were thinking of taking you to the greasiest joint we can find in walking distance, and then to 7/11 after to find you both snacks for when you spend the weekend at our apartment. But if you’d rather not, that’s totally ok too!” 

The boys fall for the line, hook and sinker. 

“Oh,” Lakshmana says, voice suddenly a pitch lower than usual as he squares his shoulders in what Sita doesn’t think any of the three recognize is his best imitation of Rama, “that’s ok.” He looks over at Shatrughana, who nods. “Family is important. Let’s go eat!” 

“Thank you,” Rama says softly after they’ve finally decided where to eat and are walking in the correct direction. Sita raises an eyebrow. “You’re good with the boys,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders. “I was expecting to have to take them out on my own, and stay at my mother’s when I wanted to spend time with them but --” 

Sita interrupts him before he says something truly embarrassing about what she only sees as a pleasure. “It’s easy when they’re such good kids,” she says, “and I would have done it even if it was harder. It’s the least I could have done for you, after everything.” 

Everything being the credit cards he’d given her when they landed, his insistence that he wouldn’t monitor her spending and would set up a bank account for her that he would periodically transfer money into but not be able to access. Everything being the books he shared with her and the books he read on her recommendation, in turn, the concerts they’d attended together, the plays and musicals and movies and street festivals. Everything being the conversations they’d had on the couch until late at night, the meals he learned to cook because they reminded her of home. 

The one similarity underlying all others between them, Sita realized one day, was that they had both grown up lonely, without anyone person, they could claim truly, entirely understood them. Neither of them had had a best friend until they met the other. By unspoken agreement, they had not consummated their marriage that first night, nor during the first few hectic months of Sita’s acclimation to New York. Eventually, it became easier to simply maintain things as they were and to enjoy the novelty of a companion before things became ... complicated. 

If a part of Sita insisted that she hold off from sex so as to not build even more on an inherently unstable foundation -- if that same part screamed that her husband had given her trust beyond all else and she squandered the gift every day she didn’t tell him who she really was -- then that was something for Sita, and only Sita, to think about.

--- 

“Oh,” Sita hears from the bathroom threshold, glancing through the mirror at the figure Rama cuts in his tailored tuxedo. It’s been nearly a year and six months since their marriage, and what Sita thought of as friendship has since bloomed into a wild, uncontrollable love. Yet, she keeps her love to herself, knowing that it would be cruel to offer him fruit with a rotted core. 

He cares too, she knows -- only a fool could willingly ignore the little signs of it he offers so freely, long and lingering looks, kisses to her cheek, forehead, the corner of her lips and the edges of her knuckles. She knows that her resistance to further intimacy must confuse him, perhaps even hurt him, but still, she can’t help but think that things would be worse if she gave in only for him to find out later. Sometimes, she wonders if Dasaratha knows about Kaikeyi -- if Lakshmana and Shatrughana owe their existence to a revelation of the truth which so discomfited their sire that he sought another woman to drown in. 

Sita is selfish, far too much so, to allow the truth to poison what she now has, half-life as it is. So she smiles over meals Rama cooks for her, meets the contacts Kaikeyi has started sending her way during lunch breaks she takes less frequently at her desk and begins preparing her heart for when things will inevitably fall apart. Today, she and Rama will attend a gala meant to raise funds for refugees which will double as a drop-point for some dissident’s data collection from the last five years on the inside of their regime’s surveillance operation. 

“You look beautiful,” Rama says, walking in. Sita’s hands, haphazardly smoothing down the last wisps of hair that refuse to curve to her skull in their updo, pause when he places his own over them. “Is that my mother’s sari?” 

Sita nods. “The style has come back,” she says, reaching out to the counter for the strand of jasmine Sumitra had sent to their apartment to be paired with Kausalya’s sari. “Even Kaikeyi approved, which means that this outfit technically has the approval of all three of your mothers, and your sister as well.” 

Rama smiles softly, taking the jasmine and pinning it up with a deft hand that speaks of experience. “I’ve never been one to keep up with fashion trends, but I think you wear it very well.” 

“Kaikeyi says it makes me look like a movie star.” In order for the drop to be successful, Kaikeyi had demanded Sita pull out all the stops possible within the relatively demure confines of charity-wear. Sita’s blouse plunges at the back, skin unobstructed by a pallu or bra, and she shivers slightly when Rama’s left-hand traces lines. 

“I suppose she would know,” he says absently, eyes raking up and down at Sita’s reflection in the mirror they both face, passing over her eyes rimmed with kohl and her dark red lips. His right-hand falls to his pocket, searching for a moment before he finds what he needs, pulling out a pair of beautiful earrings Sita hadn’t known he had. 

“Mother Kaikeyi had me get these from storage a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure if they would suit what you were planning on wearing.” They look at the pieces in his hands, realizing together how well the earrings will look with Sita’s sari. 

“Will you put them on me,” Sita asks, voice thin and breathy despite herself. His hands are gentle, just slightly cool to the touch as they gently thread the earrings into her lobes, tightening the screws and caressing her ear before moving to ghost over Sita’s hips. If Sita moved into his touch, allowed him to grasp her body so hard that she bruised if she turned her face just slightly and brushed her lips against his -- her entire body is one flame, but even now she is attending this gala with her own motive, even has a small gun she plans on holstering to her left leg as insurance. She can’t. 

She can’t. Sita takes one step forward, Rama’s hands falling back to his own sides. 

“We’ll be late,” Sita says, moving them back into purgatory instead of choosing heaven or hell. 

Rama shakes his head slightly, taking a breath. “Yes,” he replies, tone never betraying a sense of the frustration he must feel. He smiles again, holding out a hand. Sita will tell him one day, she tells herself. He deserves that much. 

“Let’s go.” 

-- 

One day, it seems, will be sooner rather than later. Sita’s very first drop of this assignment, after nearly two years of prep, and it seems like she’s going to end up just another statistic, shot in the head for all her efforts. 

Worse, she thinks, she’s going to break Rama’s heart. The dissident was less careful than they’d thought, trusted someone they shouldn’t have, and now they’re both being held up against a wall and being told to recite any final prayers for their souls. Sita’s single measly gun at her hip wouldn’t change the odds of 10 against 2, especially since no amount of physical training will significantly change the realities of her smaller physique going up against larger numbers of even better-trained muscle. 

She only wishes that she’d thrown caution to the wind once, had told Rama the truth and let the cards fall where they may. She wishes she could see him one more time and apologize, reassure him that her love was true even if her initial motives weren’t. 

“Hey,” she hears from somewhere in the distance, away from their cluster of a firing squad. Her heart simultaneously sinks and soars to realize that the voice is Rama. “That’s my wife!” 

The leader laughs, just as the dissident sobs. Sita clutches their hand tighter. “Then I’m sorry to say that she hasn’t been much of a wife,” the leader sneers, “just another one of Kaikeyi’s little rats meddling where they’re unwanted.” 

“Run!” Sita screams, deciding that she’d rather Rama be alive than hear her confessions before he too is killed. “For my sake run, before they decide to kill you too!” In the back of her mind, she knows that it’s already too late -- people are executed for far less than what Rama is doing, which is continuing to walk forward. 

He sighs audibly, not even pausing his forward momentum. “I’m sorry,” he says, and for some reason, Sita genuinely believes that he is. “You know I’d do anything for you, but there’s something I haven’t told you yet about me.” 

Shouldn’t that be Sita’s line? “What,” she croaks, captivated by how he’s somehow holding the group hostage, each of them curiously watching as he walks right up to wear Sita and her companion stand against the wall. “Please,” she sobs, breaking her own vow to face death with dignity, “if you’ve ever cared about me, you would leave.” 

Rama’s fingers come up to trace Sita’s bruised eye, her puffy lip, the cut at her cheekbone. “Concussion?” he asks, completely ignoring Sita’s plea. 

“It hardly matters,” she says, “when I’m going to die in about five minutes. Just like you will if you don’t leave right now.” 

Rama hums, right hand shifting down to her thigh, where her gun is strapped. Sita’s eyes widen as though the fabric he seems to be easing the gun out and up to where the fabric wraps around her waist. Left hand still caressing her cheek as the right holds the gun in place against her stomach, he leans in to gently kiss Sita’s forehead. 

“All three of us are going to live tonight,” he says, so confident that it seems as if it would be absurd for Sita to think anything else as if even three against 10 the odds are stacked firmly in their favor. “Hold this for me?” 

Sita’s hand shifts down to the gun still hidden in the fabric as Rama steps away and turns, his hands now busy divesting himself of his tuxedo jacket and the bowtie Sita had so painstakingly learned how to tie for him earlier. 

“Now,” he says casually, as everyone watches him worry at his cufflinks, dropping them in the pile now at Sita’s feet, later followed by his wedding ring. “Unfortunately for you all this means that you will not be surviving this encounter. Do you have any last words?” 

The leader laughs. “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Rama’s left-hand reaches out behind him. Sita, as if in a trance, dutifully fishes out the gun and places it in his hand before realizing that she has something she needs to say before it's too late. His own confidence gives her some of her own, but still how could he possibly win? How will they possibly survive -- and if, against all odds they do, what on earth is she going to say? So: “I love you,” she blurts out, smiling slightly when Rama’s head twists to look at her, incredulous, but before he can respond the first bullet fires and he explodes into action. 

For the first two minutes, the fight is 10 against 1 and still, Rama makes it look like child play. Weaving in and out, every shot he fires taking down at least one if not more of the men against him. At some point, he grabs another gun and tosses it in Sita’s direction, whose entrance into the melee serves to turn the tide even further. At least she’s always been a good shot, she thinks to herself, taking a man out even when her head rings with what she knows her husband accurately diagnosed as the beginning of a concussion. Part of her can’t do anything but watch as her studious, gentle husband breaks someone’s nose before shooting them through the heart. 

Within five minutes, it’s over. Just like Rama said, all ten men are dead at their feet. The gun drops out of his hand, slippery now with other people’s blood. Sita’s kill count is 2. He’s just killed eight men. 

“I...” Sita starts, realizing she doesn’t know what to say. She swallows, looking at the carnage around her and tries again to reconcile the sight with Rama’s soft sweaters, old fashioned glasses, and aversion of horror films. “How?” 

Rama purses his lips. “Same as you,” he says, wiping his hands on his pants with a grimace. “Mother Kaikeyi trained me, and while I was in India I was sent on assignment.” 

Sita pauses. “You’re a spy?” Even as she says it, she knows that she’s in no position to speak with such scandal in her voice -- yet, she thinks, she had thought she knew him, that he had trusted her. 

Rama laughs as he never has: short, hollow, bitter. “No,” he says, “not anymore. And even when I was, I was more of a hitman than anything else. I quit and moved away, and I assume that’s why Mother Kaikeyi sent someone to make sure I didn’t step too far out of line as a rogue element.” 

Somehow, Sita thinks, this is worse than she imagined. “No,” she says, rushing forward, hands wringing as if he’s looking again at her first credit card bill. “I asked at the beginning. It was never about you.” 

Rama is silent for a moment that seems to stretch endlessly as the adrenaline wears off for Sita, and her aches start to make themselves known. Her face throbs, her head spins, and there’s something in the vicinity of her ribs that twinges while she stands still -- not broken, she doesn’t think, but maybe bruised? Rama’s hands, almost as if it were against his mind’s will, come to stop her hands and tangle his fingers in his own as they do nothing but stare into the darkness over the other’s shoulder. “I’m glad that that’s what you were told,” he says eventually, and Sita suddenly realizes that there is an entire lifetime’s worth of complication she hadn’t known existed. 

“I wasn’t told anything,” she says, sure now that Dasaratha knows at least part of Kaikeyi’s truth, because why else would Kaikeyi have made sure that Sita walked into her relationship as transparent as possible. “Everything we shared was real.” She pauses, uncertain. “At least from my end.” 

Rama’s hands are like vices, clutching Sita’s fingers so hard it feels like he’s cut her circulation. “From mine as well. So when you just said--” 

“Yes,” Sita says, unable to say now what fear of imminent death had so successfully inspired. “Before, I was afraid of you finding out about me, but yes of course.” 

Rama exhales. “I’d hoped that’s what was stopping you, but I was never entirely sure that you really were one of Mother Kaikeyi’s recruits,” he smiles with a hint of self-deprecation. “You’re a good actor, you know.” 

“No,” Sita says, bringing her hands up to cup his face, finally deciding to be brave. “I’m really not.” She leans in. 

Their first kiss is gentle, tastes just slightly like blood, and ends quickly when Sita’s lip is irritated and makes itself known. It’s perfect. 

“I love you,” Rama breathes into the sliver of space when they part, one hand drifting to hold her at the waist, another rubbing small circles into the nape of her neck. Sita’s head spins, and not only from the concussion. 

“Hey,” she hears from somewhere behind. “I’m glad you two seem to have made up...and also .... that we’re all alive. But can we go now?” 

Sita laughs, and then immediately regrets doing so. “Yes,” she says as Rama holds her still, “let's go.” 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #354

“swimming through the void, we hear the word  /  we lose ourselves, but we find it all”

The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner? I never do. My hair is naturally pretty oily, and conditioner just adds oil to it. Do you prefer light or dark jeans? Dark. I never liked light-hued jeans. When you listen to music, do you generally sing along, or just listen? I almost always just listen. Do you have any of your exes as friends on Facebook? Yes. Who was your first love? Do you ever miss that person? My first "real" boyfriend. I always do to varying degrees. How many cars are parked at your house right now? Just one. Do you have any Italian ancestry? No. Do you prefer water to be ice cold or at room temperature? The colder, the absolute better. I can barely stomach drinking water that isn't cold, like literally. Has anyone ever told you you’re a control freak? No. Do you know anyone who has gone missing? If so, were they ever found? I don't think so, anyway. What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? A certain hot sauce on the wings I used to get at Buffalo Wild Wings. It was close to the top of their little heat rating thing. It made me feel awful, and yet I enjoyed it still?? I think it was an adrenaline thing. I only get medium sauce now; I'm more interested in enjoying my food than feeling like I'm eating fire. Do you need to talk to someone? I'm ready for my therapy appointment honestly, but it's not 'til the start of June. Mom and I both don't want to go through the process of finding a new one, so I've chosen to just suck it up and wait. Is something confusing you at the moment? I'm always confused with myself and my feelings. When was the last time you had a real deep chat? Real deep, I'm sure that would've been during PHP. Who did you last see on webcam? My former group therapist. I miss him a lot and really wish he could treat me outside of the program, but he doesn't do that. :/ What’s your best friend’s pet’s name(s)? Doris, Martha, Crowley, Little Dot, Jane Marie, Buster, Beesly, Winter, and I believe only one of the fish is named: Raisha. Have you ever taken a picture while laying in the grass? No. Who’s your favorite Disney character? Dory, probably. Have you ever deliberately tried to get someone drunk? What the fuck, no. When was the last time you used a pay phone and who were you calling? I've never used one. Do you like being kissed on the neck? Whoa now buddy, we better be kind of serious by then for you to do that because it doesn't end "well" lmao. Have you ever had sex with someone you weren’t dating (but had feelings for) in the hopes that they would ask you out later? I almost deleted this question because I didn't want to answer it, but I try to leave more unique ones in, so... whatever. I haven't. But I would for "somebody." What’s the most you would be willing to spend on a good bra? Ugh, my relationship with bras is a hellish one because NONE FUCKING FIT ME CORRECTLY. Mom's tried so, so many places, so many different stores online and in-person, and even if the bra fits in the front, it won't go around my back comfortably. I guess my body is shaped weird, I don't fucking know, because I have literally ZERO bras that don't aggravate me. At some point, I'm going to some woman Mom knows who can size me properly and therefore buy some that don't piss me off. All that to say I'd actually pay more than the usual, but not a ridiculous price. Do you have any of your teachers’ personal cell phone numbers saved in your contacts list? My old Physical Science teacher, who is actually now a very close family friend and our landlord, is in my phone. Do you ever stalk peoples’ personal blogs, even if you don’t know them very well? No. What’s one thing about today’s generation that you just can’t stand? How ungrateful they can be. Be honest: how do you feel about abortion? I am pro-choice. Is there anyone you currently want to reach out to? There's a lot of people, actually. Old friends I miss. What is your favorite piece of art you own? It... sounds cocky, but it's probably the drawing I did in high school of Pyramid Head and the Halo of the Sun intertwined. I worked my fucking ass off and I'm extremely proud of it. What’s the one thing you apologized for this month? Hm. Probably just something minor, like bumping into Mom or something when passing her. My favorite color is ______? Pink, specifically pastel pink. I wish I had _____? A job. What did you buy today? Nothing. What has challenged your morals? Life, my dude. Live and learn. What made you pick up the last book you started reading? It's the sequel to the last book I read. What about your life concerns you the most? Concerns me, my physical health, especially just how weak my legs are. I'm terrified of them continuing to deteriorate. What do you find particularly offensive? Would you say you’re easy or difficult to offend? I cannot fucking stand the misuse of the word "retarded." Like just keep your damn mouth sewn shut if you have the audacity to say things like "hurr hurr this driver is retarded." ANY mental illness/condition is NOT to be mocked. Onto the next question, I'd say I'm more towards difficult to offend. It really depends on the topic. What was the last series you finished watching? Do you have any plans to begin another? I re-watched Fullmetal Alchemist w/ Sara. We're working on Avatar: The Last Airbender too, but I won't resume watching it again until we can do it together. What is one way in which you are different from a year ago? What is one way in which you are still the same? Well, I weigh a lot more. .-. I gained back almost all the weight I shed since quarantine started, and I'm forever fucking furious about it. I'm the same in most other ways. If you could learn about anything without the stress of grades or cost, what kind of classes would you take? Uhhhhh meerkat behavior? Idk. Name a song you’ve listened to today? I've got Halocene, Lauren Babic, and Violet Orlandi's cover of "Aerials" by System of a Down on loop right now. It's fucking gorgeous and so mesmerizing. When you were younger, did you have a swing set or a playhouse in your backyard? We had a small playhouse with swings and a slide. Is your mall nice? GOD no. You better accept the possibility of getting shot before you walk in there. There's nothing that cool at all there. Do you have a Sonic near you? If so, what’s your favorite drink from there? Yeah. I love the strawberry slushy, and the Reese's Blast thing if KILLER. Will you be voting in the presidential elections next time around? Yes. How do you feel about chocolate-covered strawberries? GOOD. STUFF. Did you ever stop having feelings for someone and then started having those feelings again for them? I think so. Do you hate the last guy you had a thing with? No, he's my closest guy friend. To whom did you last give the finger? Probably some idiot that ran a red light. I'm sure it happened in the car, whenever it happened What was the last musical instrument played in your presence? I've got no clue. Do you like sprinkles on your ice cream? No, I hate the texture difference. And just sprinkles in general. Honestly, have you ever crashed a party before? No. Do you know how to do the moon walk? No. Has anybody ever told you that you have a good singing voice? Yeah, but I beg to differ. Onion rings or french fries? French fries. I'm not a big fan of the other. Has anybody ever described you as a heart breaker? Nope. Has anybody ever told you that you talk too fast? When I'm excited, yes, it happens sometimes. Who is the best cook that you know? Uhhhhh idk. Which meal throughout the day do you skip the most? I don't really skip meals. What’s the largest amount that you can juggle at one time? I can’t juggle at all. What was your favorite thing to go on at the playground as a kid? Swings. I'd dash to those at recess to try to actually get one. Do you know how much you weighed at birth? How much? All I know is six pounds, no clue on the ounces. Which aspect of your daily routine takes the most time? What do you do? Sitting my ass at the computer, really... I don't exactly do much. Do you enjoy buying gifts for others, or could you do without this? It feels sucky of me considering whenever I do get someone a gift, it's because Mom is letting me use her money with me being without an income, BUT I still do LOVE the process of thinking of something meaningful for those important to me and hopefully seeing them love whatever I got them. I cannot wait until I actually can do that regularly. What is one thing you are expected to do, if anything? Take care of my pets. How do you tend to view driving? Monotonous or entertaining? I hate driving because you're in a speeding box of death, man. I do really want to start working towards my license though; I've long since reached the "enough is enough" point. But first I need new glasses so I can actually see five feet in front of me. Do you enjoy talking about music with others? Yeah! Is acting something you enjoy? No. I'm too awkward about it. When do you feel most accomplished? When I finish a big art pierce. Do you think Manwich is amazing or completely gross? I like 'em. Just messy, which I'm not a fan of. How many best friends do you have? One. Are you a smoker, drinker, pothead or none of the above? None of the above. If you have your ears pierced, when did you get them pierced? I don't remember exactly, but I was a kid. Do you own any exercise machines? No. I wish. On Facebook, do you have people listed as your siblings who aren’t really your siblings? Nah, but I used to do that. Have you ever drawn or painted a self-portrait? Painted, but only because it was a school assignment. Who was your last voicemail from? I don't get voicemails because mine isn't even set up. Have you ever been falsely accused of something serious? No. Did you ever set up a lemonade stand when you were a kid? No. When was the last time you spoke to someone in a different language? Not since I was taking a test in high school for my German course. My teacher was a Germany native, so she was a total pro and fun to learn from. Have you ever received an anonymous gift? No. Have you ever camped out somewhere for an event the next day? No. That's always sounded miserable to me. When were you the saddest in your life? 2016 was fucking miserable. Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? I don't know if it's abusive, but it's toxic and dysfunctional as HELL. I don't know WHY she keeps going back to him, I feel awful for the woman. I'm definitely not, 'cuz I wouldn't tolerate that shit for half a second. If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? They've both moved out by now. Have you ever gotten searched by the cops? Yes, as a safety protocol with mental illness stuff. Do you like fried rice? Yes. What was the last thing you drank? Would you believe me if I told you I have water right now?

[somehow-on]

Notes - 2020

Wiping your ass is next to godliness.

I'd throw a fat man in front of a train for you.

I'm alone in the center of the universe, everyone else is just increasingly complex epicycles.

Everyone plans to empathize until they're punched in the mouth.

I'm always on time, I'm a true punc.

Do I talk to myself? I do everything to myself.

Stay woc.

Nihilist in theory, pragmatist in practice.

Vectorian Grey.

H2650-1, J-bend, 1.25 inch. Compression Washer.

Full grown, adult sized, bangeroos.

How about instead of doing everything shittily all at once, you do one thing well?

Third Riech Feminist.

Lee Moses - she's a bad girl

If I'm going to die on a hill it's going to be frigging mount hillaminjarro.

Never compromise nor coordinate.

Dump sack.

Tracing paper.

Sex, the world's oldest commodity.

Arm Q's: infection vs bursitis, bone spur, IV soreness, basketball, drinking, elevation, some reason antibiotics aren't working

I'm no racist, I voted for Biden.

I'm not a socialist, I'm a social distancer.

I'm a Hooverist.

Other people's money.

Stop taking my chances.

Beautiful/fertile, ugly/sterile.

Get good at hitting your target, or get good at coming up with excuses for why you missed.

Life is for the risk tolerant.

Never regulated.

Sicker than sars-cov'ers, higher than Mars rovers.

60 Watt, 75 Watt

No one has a clearer vision of the absence of truth at the center of existence.

The meek and the brash.

I'm jewlatto.

Your amazing ability to invent clever new ways to be miserable.

Barry White - I'm gonna love you just a little more baby

Admiral Sissy Mary.

Imagine sisyphus getting prizes.

social darwining not distancing.

Wyatt Dykeman.

My life in bits.

You should see the other 7 billion.

Eyes are the windows of the cell.

The Heat of Composition.

The arrows of time.

It's not free will that is the illusion, physical cause and effect itself is illusory, all there is is brain chemicals and/or qualia.

My life as a trophy case to my disillusionments.

Theories on life list.

What is a superstition but an illusion of control?

This country's been in the toilet ever since we elected that Catholic Kennedy.

X is a religion, but not because it's a ethics, but because it's an explanation. Nothing can be explained.

What does the urkel tv show have to do with anything?

Was the most popular girl out behind the school. - 2013

puts the miscue in promisuous. - 2013

It doesn't bother me that people call me fat; I'm just thick-skinned. - 2012

Parezewsky, Mozca.

Vanguard Commodity Fund. VCMDX.

Gleeconomist.

I'm just a tall, hairy, little girl.

Diligence. Due diligence. Owed diligence.

Get yur kit off.

Smart as a button.

Sysiphus laughing.

Bluff the devil.

To sugar in our boogers and cream in our jeans.

The one inch of spacetime in front of my face.

The matrix but it's your own brain simulating your life one second at a time.

God gave his only son as a false flag operation.

Shitposting cannot be refuted, it can only be repeated. - TIB

Can't be arsed.

Breath spilled.

To me, every bumper sticker is basically a swastika. Tattoo.

S. J. Perelman. Mort Sahl. George S Kaufman.

Wide eyes nights late lying awake.

I just wish I could do less.

Meaningless, purposeless, alienating, novelty.

You don't have to hold so tightly to your ideas of how the world ought to be. If you relax just a little it's not going to fall apart. It will still keep getting a little better every day, and you'll have given yourself some room to enjoy what is good in it.

Ethically-Sourced Sadism.

Pathos-Aggresive.

The answer to every question is either everything or nothing.

People are always trying to help me find my wallet.

For a while I was living in my car dealership.

Avoid work, acquire orgasms.

The real reward is the silence and nothingness you make along the way.

Our relationship is purely physical, she's my aerobics instructor.

Pogo - Walt Kelly

Ameianto - super combo. Liniker

MMT is just communism with extra steps.

Crown of mud.

Don't count other people's status.

The emperor is fully clothed but is actually just a homeless weirdo off his meds.

Repeater.

Blackface is offensive, I only ever do African-American-face.

We must protect the children and coincidentally my social status.

Jeff Bezus Christ.

Born and bred and dipped in butter.

VMBSX - mortgage backed securities

Your son is going to grow up loving me, so who's the real cuck after all?

Avarice.

The dead infant is fulfilled. Baby coffin.

Chiaroscuro.

Data Based God.

Laugh while you burn.

Boredom is gravity always pulling you back to earth. Comedy is ramp that tricks your penchant for boredom in to launching you for a brief moment into the sky and closer to God.

Nihilists know the price of everything and the value of nothingness.

Acquisitive.

Speak less, smilf more.

The world is my cloister.

Breads Benedict.

Hose down, pimp up.

Health, wealth, and mirth. Birth, worth, and mirth.

London Fog.

I don't want to be in any club that wouldn't have me as their president.

Recognize the future.

You only do two weeks anyhow, the week you go in and the week you go out.

Use my time machine to go back and kill clippy before he is ever shipped.

It's not about the size of the boat, but the ocean of lotion.

The weight room is where we determine the proper weights for our pitch randomizer.

Failed Utopia. Utopia of the failed.

South of the wall.

Mektoub, my love. Movie.

She wants me to take her to the pound town county courthouse to apply for a liquor license, if you know what I mean.

I only do two things, break hearts and chew gum. And I'm delivered a monthly subscription of gum.

Beckett-head Wendy. Wundy.

I'm a consummate consumer.

Billy Joel: The father of hip hop.

Bask & wallow.

There's nothing to be done. I'll do on. Call that doing, call that on.

Hell and madness: trying to control that which you cannot.

Only reason anyone does anything: to make friends.

We are all united against the past, but in a war against all for the future.

Elena ferrante, the lost daughter.

Paul oster, hunt for herman miller.

Reality is plastic - hypnotism book

Fund the police! Coming straight from the underground.

My life's just a $10M bit.

There's a method to my badness.

Good fences make good neighborhoods.

Someone's gotta keep the bad world from the door.

Dom-text.

Isolate your favorites.

Huey Newton and the Lootings.

Too hasty by far!

Drinking my Soylent, doing my thang.

We only like the beginning of things.

Johnnie Ray.

Having sex astride a grave, the love gleams an instant and then it's dark once more.

Give us this day our daily death.

Live small & petite mort.

There's no small lives, just petite morts.

Gems in the mud.

Mud-miner.

I let you lose.

Air, water, food, hugs.

Shut up, show off.

Friendship is forever, romance is by the hour.

A shoulder to sigh on.

Pithetic. Inspires pith.

Everything is dim, inapparently.

Cum-dumptruck.

Mr. Smarty.

Moist with meaning.

Covid-wife.

Cuddle to completion.

I'm a very adorable pervert.

Still chasing my perfect compliment. Ultimate.

You don't pay me to be doing something all the time, you pay me to do the right thing at the right time, and to know what and when that is.

Melo-chromatic.

Go with Goethe. Go with Godot.

Off-black.

Peddling my piddling wares.

Godot waits for me.

Thick-stick thespian. Dipstick lesbian.

To want something is beautiful, to get it is obscene. Cloying. Nauseating.

I'm not smart enough to say little, I have to say a lot.

Papa Pill.

Pall.

Patience Zero. Seize the delay. It gets better, then worse.

Worrier-Princess. Golden State Worrier.

I'm looking for someone out of my league physically, intellectually, and morally; who I will try desperately to hide all my shortcomings and flaws from until one of us dies, hopefully me.

Greylord.

[theparanormalperiodical]

Paranormal Activity (2007) - The True Story Behind The Franchise, And The 5 Other Demonic Hauntings You Need To Know About

What does the election of Margaret Thatcher, the industrialisation of Europe, and a shitty found footage film have in common?

They all changed the world.

Sure, Paranormal Activity (2007) may have not brought about the socio-economic changes created by the Iron Lady, nor that of the Industrial Revolution.

But there’s doubt about it: it defined a new era of horror films.

“Whoa whoa whoa - what about The Blair Witch Project?”

Okay, fine, The Blair B*tch Project is an icon that I supernaturally-stan. But it was the chaotic web of films that made up the Paranormal Activity franchise that set off a new focus on real stories, on real hauntings we can see and hear and film and photograph.

Type ‘ghosts’ into YouTube. Go on, do it. 

With enough 10 minute videos clogged with adverts, cheap jumpscares, and a nightvision overlay that would resurrect Paris Hilton’s career, these films tapped into what’s happening right here, right now.

Thanks to the rise of social media and the phones we use to update them, ‘evidence’ of the paranormal is now scattered across the internet. Paranormal Activity tapped into that, providing us innocent viewers with a terrifying movie that would span 5 more films.

(Oh, and it turns out another one is set for release in 2021! Which isn’t unnecessary at all. Nope. Definitely not unneeded.)

But what’s really scary isn’t the film itself. 

Oh, no.

It’s the fact that it’s all based on true stories.

Today’s post is going to recap the Paranormal Activity films, explain the true stories of demonic hauntings it’s based on, and go through the 5 other demonic hauntings you need to know about.

Let’s get spooky.

First, Let’s Recap The Paranormal Activity Franchise

With 7 films under its belt (you can’t forget the spinoff set in Japan!), this saga takes a detour around the core of the franchise and the explanation of the activity.

The franchise centres around a coven of witches who sacrifice first born boys to demons in exchange for money and success. Some first born boys are also used to create a demonic army to protect the coven. 

Most of the films follow one family who experiences the actions of the coven - The Midwives - firsthand. One of the two daughters is kidnapped by her grandmother, a member of the coven, and prepared for the day that she will fulfill her womanly duties:

That’s right, she’s gonna give birth to a demon.

And yes, you are invited to the baby shower!

The films start in the present with one of the daughters beginning to experience traces of paranormal activity which evolves into a full on demonic haunting. It is then revealed in scraps of conversation - and then embellished in later films - that weird paranormal stuff happened when they were kids. 

We then jump back and forth between past ‘n present until the whole witchy-shebang is revealed.

Here’s the film-by-film summary:

Paranormal Activity: Katie and bae Micah witness paranormal activity in their home and decide to film the mysterious things that happen at night - less sex tape, more supernatural. The activity becomes more intense and is revealed to be demonic, focusing on Katie and eventually possessing her. She kills Micah in full demonic-mode, and goes missing.

Paranormal Activity 2: Katie’s sister, Kristi, and her family set up cameras in their house following a burglary (spoiler alert - it ain’t no burglary). Activity escalates, and the daughter of the family, Ali, works out that this is a demonic haunting and that humans made deals with demons by forfeiting the soul of a first born son. Kristi’s son, Hunter, is the first boy born in their family since the 1930s. Kristi is eventually possessed and subsequently exorcised to protect her and the family. They do this by passing the demon onto Katie by burning a photograph. Katie then rocks up in demonic-mode and kidnaps Hunter.

Paranormal Activity 3: Before Hunter was born, Katie gave some old videotapes to her sister, Kristi, which contains footage of their childhood - and the paranormal activity that occurred within it. The activity offers up strange symbols, invisible figures, and the emergence of the coven, The Midwives. Tobi the demon also rocks up for the first time. We also find out what the coven does and that their grandmother, Lois, is one of these witches. Their parents are killed, and Katie and Kristi are told to ‘get ready’. 

Paranormal Activity 4: A new famalam are busy living a non-demonic life when a neighbour falls ill. The neighbour’s child, Wyatt (pssst - it’s Hunter! And the neighbour’s Katie omgggggg) goes to live with them. Their non-demonic life then becomes demonic. Spooky shenanigans ensue, we see the coven, Katie kills people… On reflection, this film didn’t need to be made. But oh well. 

Paranormal Activity 5: The Marked Ones: Lovable high school grad, Jesse, is living his non-demonic life above his totally-demonic neighbour, Ana. Turns out she’s a witch in the coven. One of his classmates is also demonic, and is seen doing demonic shit as a result of Ana. It is then revealed that some first born sons are recruited into this demonic army. Jesse is one of them, and begins to exhibit strange behaviour - he has been ‘marked’. Jesse’s friend and rag-tag group of anti-demonic people investigate and rock up at witch-HQ. His friend is then chased into a door which is revealed to be a portal from which he goes into the kitchen of Katie and Micah. Katie screams and thinks he’s an intruder who Micah tackles. Katie then kills Micah - this is the last scene of the first Paranormal Activity. 

Paranormal Activity 6: The Ghost Dimension: In this film we see snapshots of young Katie and Kristi being taught to unleash their demonicy powers, as well as a new family living on the property where they used to live. The young daughter, Leila is seen talking to and interacting with a dark figure. It is then discovered Leila was born on the same day as hunter, and that Leila has gone through a portal into another world.  A priest attempts to cleanse the house, Tobi goes cray-cray and kills someone. Leila flees through the portal and the mother follows. They rock up at Katie and Kristi’s house and meet young Katie and Kristi. The mother is killed, and Leila and Tobi walk off into the sunset. 

Confused?

Me too.

Sure, it is a thin plot that’s been stretched across far too many flicks, but it’s the frightening filler that really defines the franchise.

Doors moving, earthquakes, dark figures appearing and moving, footsteps seen and heard, strange symbols appearing....

It all ties together to make an iconic set of films. 

Are they going to be remembered for being great?

No. 

Do I care?

Hell to the nah!

But what I do care about is the true story the franchise is based on.

So, What Is The True Story Behind Paranormal Activity?

Okay, fine, I told a lie: they’re actually based on multiple stories of demonic and other paranormal hauntings.

Yes, that is worse. 

I’ve dissected 3 components of the films that I’ve traced back to real paranormal theories and stories.

Demonic hauntings

Animal and children interaction with paranormal activity

And the coven

Let’s Start With The Demonic Hauntings 

If there’s one thing that Paranormal Activity gets right, it’s the paranormal activity.

With minimal discussion of what the shit is actually going on - particularly in the first movie - it truly lives up to its name of just being pure spooks. Now, in case you’re new to this blog, you probably won’t be as versed as I am in everything-spooky.

*flips hair*

Things like objects and furniture moving are just a few components of paranormal activity, as is lights flickering, for example; this all features as the beginning of the films’ activity, similar to that of real cases of spirit and demonic hauntings.

But the films then go on to capture what makes hauntings truly demonic:

Growling noises, people in trances or acting strange, and aggressive supernatural activity - all build up to the inevitable possession of a character which happens in every single film. 

And it hits possession like a nail on the head. 

It follows historic theories closely, focusing only on female possession. According to medieval theories, women were more likely to be possessed as they were deemed weaker, and thus more vulnerable to demons and spirits wanting to control their bodies. 

Young girls? Magnets for Satan.

So, given the centrality of the young girls to the film who are besties with and apparently shit out a demon via the vag, this is pretty accurate. 

Which, you know, is fine, this is fine.

Another key component of the demonic haunting we need to discuss rocks up in the first film, setting alight the curiosity that had us humble viewers coming back to every following film:

It’s the burnt photo of Katie as a child.

Burnt photos - or just destroyed photos - figure as key milestones of a demonic haunting. And smashed photo frames, scratched pictures all feature in this franchise.

In the films, it is eventually deduced that the burnt photo is used to transfer a demon to someone else. That explains why later in the film, the demon goes on to possess Katie. 

In terms of paranormal cases, photos being used for ritualistic purposes is well documented in cases of witchcraft. One example of this is from the mysterious death of Estefanía Gutiérrez Lázaro, a story immortalised in the horror hit, Veronica.

At one point during the real case of Estefania, her picture burns spontaneously in front of her family around the time of her death.

In fact, burning items in general is a classic ritual related to unleashing demons. Fancy getting rid of your Ouija board? Don’t burn it - as hell is, uh, hot, demons can be released. Or they’re trapped in the board itself and by destroying it, they can escape.

Burning is also used in invocation, a ritual used in demonolatry, the worship of demons. 

Next Up Is The Interactions Between Animals, Children, And The Paranormal

All horror films tend to start with the same thing:

The doggo starts acting weird.

In The Conjuring, the dog dies. In The Woman In Black, the dog draws attention to the dark figure approaching Harry Potter Daniel Radcliffe. And in Paranormal Activity 2, the doggo barks at invisible figures and gets hurt by the demon. 

Question is, does this actually happen?

Yep. 

Apparently, dogs and cats are highly susceptible to the supernatural. With their proved heightened senses - and some folklore to back it up - animals are considered one of the first signs of something paranormal.

And kids?

It’s the same thing. Remember what I said about young girls being really vulnerable ‘cause all women are weak? Children were considered to be on that same level of ‘open-to-demon-ness’ as women, so it follows that they’d be equally aware of the paranormal. 

Enter the imaginary friend, Tobi. You know - the demon. 

Imaginary friends bulk out most creepypastas, as well as the true ghost stories littering the internet. So unfortunately, Tobi is far more common than we’d like to think.

Yay.

Let’s Talk About The Coven, The Midwives

The underlying plot of the films - aside from being about cupboards opening all by themselves - is about the puppet-like control of the family by The Midwives.

And there are 3 things which directly link to real cases of covens and witchcraft.

However, when I started my research, I immediately ran into a problem: covens worshipping demons they want to bring back to earth and take over the world aren’t exactly shouting about their activities.

There’s no Twitter account posting memes about kidnapping kids. There’s no YouTube channel devoted to altar hauls. And there’s no crowdfunding to raise money for the indoctrination of women as they sacrifice their kids to demons.

But I did want to pull apart a few things like the symbol of the Midwives, their obsession with first born boys, and the confusing plotline of time travel. 

First, we have their motives for their worship and sacrifice: its to gain money and success. This is a well documented component of black magic and demonolatry, a motive we can trace back to concepts from the medieval era.

Next is the symbol.

Despite looking like they copied and pasted it from Harry Potter, symbols containing a triangle and circle frequent literature documenting witchcraft. Specifically, this symbol is close to that of Soloman’s Seal, or the Triple Tale.

The latter represents gates, or spiritual manifestations. 

That’s pretty fecking close to the plot of the movie!

Following up from your next tramp stamp tat is their obsession with first born boys. 

“It’s the patriarchy!”

Hell fucking yeah, it is. 

These witches are seriously behind the times, and stick to biblical notions of magic, deducing their obsession from the value appointed to first born boys in the biblical era. This is especially true given that the sacrifice of a first born son often crops up or is referred to in this bestselling book. 

Finally, we have to discuss the time travel.

The franchise ties all the films together by using time travel to…

Look, I have no fucking clue why or how or for what reason. But What I do know is that there are these portals that can take people back to key plot moments of extreme witchy-demony-stuff. 

Take the first time we see one of these portals: during the 5th movie we see a character stuck in Witch-HQ, looking for a way to escape. He decides to go through a door covered in strange symbols cause that’s not gonna be witchy at all. 

He walks through, and enters a kitchen. He then sees Katie, the lass from the first movie walk down the stairs, and scream for Micah, her boyfriend.

That’s right - we witness the moment she becomes possessed, suggesting the witches had some direct hand in that moment.

The circle is complete! I think, I don’t know, I’m still confused...

Unfortunately, these portals end the series. In the last film, a new family rock up in a house built on the property where the young girls kidnapped by the coven used to live, and the kid of the new family ends up time travelling to when they used to live there, even though that house burnt down.

“So, is it based on paranormal theories?”

No. 

Sure, some witchcraft does mention travelling to other plains - see astral projection and Insidious - but, like my coven research, witches ain’t posting their time travels on insta.

That being said, I would love to see that classic hand holding/leading shot as a witch takes bae into another dimension...

Paranormal Activity may be the cinematic representative for a jumpscare-binge, but the film goes much deeper than a demon throwing a tantrum and slamming a door cause nobody understands him. 

(Dammit, Tobi.)

Fact is, Paranormal Activity isn’t just ‘based on a true story’. It’s an accurate representation of a demonic haunting.

The 5 Demonic Haunted Houses You Need To Know About

Let me guess:

You’re currently hiding under a quilt and watching Gordon-Ramsay-Getting-Hella-Angry compilations on YouTube to try and calm down. 

If so, you’re gonna want to stay under there - It’s time to discuss the other demonic hauntings that are similar to the Paranormal Activity franchise.

Uncomfortably similar, that is.

Fantastic.

#1 -  The Demon House

Topping our list is a house which clearly fits the topic of this post by its name alone.

Bob Cranmer, former resident of this Pittsburgh house, claims he lived in a house that was haunted by a demon for 18 years. Why did he stay in this house for 18 years if this was in fact also home to a demon?

*shrug*

Either way, before a demon was cast out by an exorcism in the mid-noughties, the haunting manifested in hands pushing and slapping family members, you know, the usual escalation of violent attacks…

Oh, and Cranmer also saw blood dripping from the walls. 

But it’s the backstory to the property that really makes things terrifying. It was discovered that the Demon House was built upon a site from which Native Americans were murdered by European settlers. On top of that, a builder cursed the land during construction. 

Also, a former tenant of the house is believed to have been an illegal abortionist who performed hundreds of these operations in the house. Well, depending on what you believe, this supposedly brought forward a demon.

(It’s at this point that I would think “oh I should be neutral” but nah fuck that #prochoice)

Anyway.

According to Cranmer’s investigation - from which he even churned out a book on the house - the name of the demon is Moloch, a god mentioned in the Old Testament. By researching the old tenants of the house, he discovered that some were actually worshippers of this demon.

And considering Moloch’s love for child sacrifices, Cranmer connected some dots regarding the illegal abortionist that once lived there.

Regardless of my disagreements with this verdict, there is no doubt that this be a spooky house.

#2 - The Smurl Family House

You know shit’s spooky when Ed and Lorraine Warren rock up at your house. 

For a period of 13 years, the Smurl family of Pennsylvania was tormented by a demon which smothered them with an abundance of supernatural activity. 

Toilets flushing by themselves, electronic devices failing to work, and awful odours passing through the house was just a few components of the activity faced. This escalated into arguably more violent activity synonymous with demonic hauntings:

Claw marks appeared in various rooms, full bodied apparitions would appear over beds, and a demon they named ‘Old Hag’ became a permanent resident.

Whether ‘Old Hag’ was passing through walls, or sexually assaulting the human residents, there was no doubt that the Smurls were witnessing an intense level of activity.

50 exorcisms were used to cleanse the house, but to no avail; the assaults didn’t stop until the Smurls moved out, giving further evidence to support the skeptics that this demonic haunting was no haunting at all. 

#3 - The Bean’s Family House

It’s the 1970s. We are in Baltimore, in a quiet suburb crammed full of all-american families. 

Unfortunately, there was no Tracy Turnblad around to brighten up this ranch style house. This home was cursed with a negative energy that was soon determined to be the result of a demonic presence. 

This demonic haunting manifested in cold hands touching and grabbing family members, reenacting all the ways someone could be murdered. It even transformed itself into a human draped in a black suit!

With fierce black eyes giving away its true identity, the demon was ascertained as the cause of the activity, and the Bean family fled in the 1980s. 

Question is, what was the root of this demon? 

The former residents claim it was extra-terrestrial contact, with strange pictures supporting their claims.

#4 - The Haunting of Latoya Ammons

There’s a ghost making your TV turn on and off… And then there’s mysterious occurrences so intense the local police are involved.

This case is the latter.

It all started in 2011, shortly after a small family moved into their new home in Indiana. Large black flies began to swarm their front porch, and the frequent sound of footsteps began to trouble the family.  

Shadowy figures also began to emerge, and would become the centre of the haunting. Alongside this, Ammons claimed she also witnessed her daughter levitating above her bed, sparking the need for supernatural support. Mediums were called, and they deduced that 200 demons haunted their house. 

Following an exorcism, the family decided to leave the house as it failed to rid the house of its paranormal residents. Not convinced? Here’s the iconic picture believed to show a demon standing at the window of the house:

#5 - The Sallie House

Considered one of the most famous haunted houses in the world, this home is the residence of a young girl named Sallie. Oh, and she’s dead. It is believed that she was a victim of a lobotomy in the early 20th century, and attacks any men who enter the house in vengeance of her doctor.

But what really made this house famous was the investigation by a TV crew who experienced scratches and bruises from unseen forces in real time. Such violent assaults are a trademark of demonic hauntings.

Other visitors have also cited apparitions, floating objects, and animal noises, confirming that this house features something that we simply cannot explain. .

When mediums rocked up to deduce the centre of this haunting, they determined that that little girl was a magnet for darker, demonic forces that have entered the house.  

I told you - young girls are magnets for Satan. 

So - what’s your verdict?

Do you think these houses are haunted?

And who’s ready for a sleepover in one of them?

(not me)

Be sure to let me know in a comment.

And don’t forget to hit follow for a spook every single day.