#that's why i'm interested in programming

[dravidious]

How's the writing going? Well I've written over 2000 words and I'm questioning if I'm spelling "our" correctly, so you know

[hephaestuscrew]

"Minkowski's been talking about Sondheim again…": Minkowski's love of musical theatre and what it reveals about her characterisation and her relationships

TL;DR: Renée Minkowski's love of musicals, while it might seem just like a mundane character detail, is used to give depth to her character because it contrasts with expectations of her from both the listening audience and the other characters. Her willingness or unwillingness to share this interest in different circumstances reveals her relationships with other characters at various points. Since this is a long one, if you'd rather read it as a document, you can view it here: Google Doc version.

"She actually really cares about these talent shows": Episode 8 (Box 953)

In the early episodes of Season 1, Minkowski is presented (largely through Eiffel's unreliable perspective) purely as a strict no-nonsense authority figure without much emotional depth, the kind of person who only likes things that are useful, purposeful, or mandated by Command. In contrast, musical theatre is a creative pursuit that has nothing to do with the mission of the Hephaestus and is viewed by many people as fairly frivolous or silly. The gradual exploration of Minkowski's passion for musicals is one of the many ways that the show expands and challenges our understanding of her as a character. 

The first indication that we get of her interest in musicals is through her entry into the infamous talent show, something that is required as part of the mission. Minkowski really cares about 'crew morale' activities in general, even when they actually have a negative effect on morale and even before she's friends with any of her crew (for example, the Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners in the earlier stage of the mission), perhaps partly because doing things in the "right way" is important to her. 

But Eiffel senses that the talent shows aren't just about rules for her: "it’s bad enough when she makes us do something just because it’s military protocol, but I think that she actually really cares about these talent shows". This might be the first indication that we get of Minkowski caring deeply about anything that isn't inherently part of her role as a Commander. Moments like this are part of the gradual process of giving us insight into her character beyond the Commander archetype that she tries to embody. And yet, she only indulges her theatrical passion because something mandatory gives her permission, or an excuse, to let another part of herself out.

Of course, to satisfy the needs of a talent show, she'd only need to provide a performance of a few minutes. But Eiffel mentions "the second act of the play" - which along with Hera's comment that "Isabel isn't the biggest role in the play" - implies that Minkowski was intending to put on the whole of Pirates of Penzance as her talent show act, rather than a few of the songs or some kind of medley. (I suppose that Eiffel could be exaggerating or Minkowski might have been planning to do extracts from different parts of the play, but I prefer the interpretation in which Minkowski gets to be more ridiculous.) 

Even though no one else would be willing to be in her production of Pirates of Penzance, Minkowski casts Hera as Isabel, a role with two lines and no solo singing. I found some audition notes for this play which said "The traditional staging gives [Isabel] more prominence than the solo opportunities of the part suggest, so she must be a good actress" which does make me sad in relation to Hera's inability to have a more significant role by being physically present on stage. 

It’s sweet that Hera still wants to take part though. She tells Eiffel "Pirates of Penzance is a classic of 19th century comic opera", so either she’s absorbed what Minkowski has told her about the show, or she’s done her own research and formed her own opinions. I enjoy the fact that Hera is the one Hephaestus crew member who shows potential to share Minkowski's musical theatre appreciation; I like to think that this is something they could explore together post-canon.

Anyway, I'm obsessed with the idea that Minkowski was planning to play every character except one in Pirates of Penzance, a show which is designed to have 10 principal characters and a chorus of 14 men. It seems that her contribution to the talent show was supposed to be an entire two-hour two-act musical, with costumes and props, in which she would play almost all of the parts. This is very funny to me as the perhaps predictable consequence of giving an ambitious and frustrated grown-up theatre kid a position of authority and asking them to arrange a talent show. Minkowski knows that the audience will be made up of her subordinates who are theoretically obliged by the chain of command to watch and listen, so she absolutely tries to make the most of that opportunity. There's probably also a degree to which she limits other people's involvement in her musical because - as with her other endeavors - she wants the outcome to be almost entirely within her control (something that is usually pretty much impossible in as collaborative a medium as musical theatre).

Of course, Minkowski's behaviour in most of the talent show episode is affected by her being drugged by Hilbert. This creates an exaggerated situation which is the first real opportunity for Minkowski to be something other than the strict sensible authoritarian Commander and the foil to Eiffel's jokey laid-back attitude. I don't agree with ideas that being intoxicated brings out anyone's true self (especially in the absence of consent for the intoxication), but it seems pretty clear that being under the influence of whatever was in Hilbert's concoction caused Minkowski to fully commit to a level of manic enthusiasm for her musical production that might have otherwise been obscured by her professionalism. It's a particular kind of person who belts showtunes when drunk, and Minkowski is that kind of person, even if that's not how she wants to present herself. (As a sidenote, I seem to remember that they took Emma Sherr-Ziarko's script off her to help her sound more drunk. It's an excellent performance.)

Minkowski wants interval ice cream. She wants "pirate costumes" (and she'll threaten to shoot a man to get them). She wants "swashes and buckles". She wants whatever props she can get her hands on (including a real cannon). This show is important to her, even though only three other people will witness it and two of them actively don't want to be there. It’s important to her for its own sake.

Eiffel says Minkowski wants "a second pair of eyes to tell her if the prop sabre for her Major-General costume was a bit much…"  While I certainly wouldn't put it past Goddard Futuristics to have a prop sabre on the station for no apparent reason, it feels more likely that she might have made it or adapted some existing item. Which suggests that maybe she was that passionate about the props even before Hilbert drugged her. 

Even so, it does feel significant that Minkowski's love of musicals is only revealed in the episode in which she is drugged, exhibiting lowered inhibitions, exaggerated behaviour, and an "impaired euphoric effect". Her love of musical theatre is initially revealed through a professional structure that provides permission, and then further emphasised by a forced intoxication that exaggerates some impulses that perhaps she already had.

"Some hobbies other than making trains run on time": Episode 17 (Bach to the Future)

After Eiffel tells to find Minkowski to find something else to do while her work duties have quietened down, they have the following exchange:

EIFFEL: You must have some hobbies other than making trains run on time. Something to do with friends? Boyfriends? MINKOWSKI: Of course I do, but, well, there aren't really a lot of opportunities for rock climbing or trail hiking in the immediate vicinity. 

Even though this quote doesn't mention musicals, I've included it here for two reasons. Firstly, it's very funny to me that, even after the talent show debacle, Eiffel acts like he's never had any evidence of Minkowski's hobbies. She tried to perform a whole play almost single-handedly and it didn't occur to him that this might indicate an interest of hers outside of work. I think this reflects the fairly two-dimensional view that Eiffel has previously had of Minkowski, which her interest in musical theatre didn't fit into. 

Secondly, it feels notable that Minkowski doesn't mention musical theatre here. She wants to show that she has non-work interests, but without undermining her own authoritative image. Her interest in rock climbing and trail hiking - while it may be genuine - fits with how she wants to be seen as a Commander. These are hobbies which portray her as physically capable, with a high degree of stamina and a willingness to adapt to perhaps less hospitable surroundings. Of course, Minkowski does have these traits and they serve her well on the Hephaestus. But there's not really anything particularly surprising about her expressing these interests. The surprise in this scene comes from the reveal that she has a husband, a character detail which - like her love of musicals - isn't something we'd necessarily expect from the archetype-based view of her we are initially presented with. 

Her interest in rock climbing and trail hiking never come up again, because these details don't really deepen her characterisation (or at least, they aren't really used to deepen her characterisation beyond proving that she isn't entirely all-work-and-no-play). In contrast, Minkowski's love of musicals is brought up over and over because it shows another side of her that she struggles to reveal on the Hephaestus, and that allows more interesting things to be done with her characterisation.

"You wanted to write showtunes": Episode 35 (Need to Know)

Alongside the more high stakes discoveries prompted by the leak from Kepler's files, we also learn that Minkowski applied to - and was rejected from - the Tisch Graduate Musical Theater Writing Program.

Up until this point, we've only had evidence that Minkowski enjoys performing in musicals. But here we learn that Minkowski doesn't just love watching or performing in musicals - she wanted to write them too. This suggests a creative side to her that we never see her fully express.

The course

The Tisch Graduate Musical Theatre Writing Program claims to be the only course of its kind in the world and it accepts just 30 students each year. The current application process requires applicants to: upload play scripts or recordings of songs they've written; answer a large number of extended response questions about their creative process and views on musical theatre; write a 'statement of purpose' which has to talk about why they are applying and include 3 original ideas for musicals; provide a professional resume and a digital portfolio; complete an exercise of writing in response to a prompt; and undergo an interview. The process might have changed somewhat since Minkowski would have been applying (which, if it was soon after she finished college, might have been around the early 2000s) or it might be different in Wolf 359's alternate universe, but I think we can safely assume that applying to this course was a serious undertaking that required an intense amount of commitment and work. 

Applying to a course like that isn't something you do half-heartedly or on a whim. You couldn't apply to this course if you hadn't done a fair amount of musical theatre writing already. (The course requires applicants to choose to apply as bookwriters, lyricists, or composers, but I'm not going to make a guess here as to which of these Minkowski went for.) The fact that Minkowski wanted to study this course suggests that she was seriously considering trying to make a career out of musical theatre writing. In Once In A Lifetime, she tells Cutter that commanding a space station has always been her dream job, but we've got evidence here that it wasn't her only dream job. There's something kind of funny and kind of sad about the idea that writing musicals was her back-up / fall-back career path. She does not like to make life easy for herself.

The revelation 

This information is revealed against Minkowski's will. It's not something she wanted people to find out, and she isn't happy about them knowing:

JACOBI: "Dear Renée, thank you for your interest in the Tisch Graduate Musical Theater Writing Program..." MINKOWSKI: Oh, come on!  JACOBI: (pressing on) "We are sorry to say, we will not be able to offer you a spot in this year's blah blah blah." Oh this is too good. You wanted to write showtunes?  MINKOWSKI: Number one? Shut up. Number two, why are my personal records on there?! [...] How is it in any way relevant?! JACOBI: Oh, I think it's very relevant. I mean, if you're sending someone to pilot ships in deep space, you want to make sure that they can, you know... paint with all the colors of the wind.  Jacobi CRACKS UP - and, although to a lesser degree, so does Lovelace. Minkowski looks at her: really?  LOVELACE: Sorry, Minkowski. It's... it's a little funny.  MINKOWKSI: No, it isn't!

Minkowski seems defensive and embarrassed here. She obviously doesn't trust everyone there with this revelation (Jacobi, Maxwell, Lovelace, and Hera are all present). She considers this information to be "personal" and irrelevant and not even "a little funny". She's used to reactions like Jacobi's (and to a lesser extent Lovelace's); in Ep41 Memoria, she says "most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals" (see below for more thoughts about this quote). But the fact that these mocking reactions are expected doesn't mean that they don't bother her. She wants so badly to be taken seriously and, in this scene, her interest in musical theatre seems to be incompatible with that. Jacobi reacts the way that he does because of the idea that I've already expressed, that a passion for musical theatre does not fit with the serious authoritative image that Minkowski has often presented. It's not the typical hobby of a soldier, especially not a Commander.

To me, the way Lovelace laughs suggests that she might not have previously known about Minkowski's love of musicals, or at least perhaps not the full extent of it. At any rate, it's definitely news to Jacobi. And Minkowski clearly hasn't talked about it enough for it not to feel like a big reveal for her.

The rejection 

It's notable that this reveal is not just that she wanted to write for the stage, but also that she failed to get into a course that might have helped her work towards that goal. This of course compounds Minkowski's discomfort at having this information revealed. Not only did she want to write showtunes, but she encountered rejection in her attempts to do so. This detail implies that perhaps it wasn't just the appeal of her spacefaring dream that stopped her going down a theatrical career path. 

I'm about to move more into headcanon territory rather than just straightforward analysis, but I personally believe that, while Minkowski auditioned for a lot of musicals (particularly as a child / young person), she was never cast as the main role. She seems embarrassed about her interest in musical theatre in a way that (at least judging by people I've encountered) people who were always the lead in their school / college productions don't tend to be. 

We don't have much evidence about her actual level of singing/acting ability, given that she is inebriated during the only time we hear her sing in the podcast. However, it resonates with other aspects of her characterisation to imagine that Minkowski was generally good enough to get an ensemble part but never quite good enough to be cast as a main part. I think she might see only ever being cast as part of the ensemble, and failing to get into the Tisch Musical Theatre Writing programme, as slightly more down-to-earth examples of the same pattern as her repeated rejections from NASA. She is desperate to prove herself. She is "someone who very much wants to matter. To do something important." When she casts herself as almost every part in Pirates of Penzance, she is finally taking the opportunity to be a main character, an opportunity which I imagine had been denied to her over and over in both a literal and metaphorical sense.

"It's just from a play I saw once": Episode 41 (Memoria)

The next scene I want to talk about is from a memory of Hera's, which took place on Day 57 of the Hephaestus mission and in which Minkowski appears to be talking about the Stephen Sondheim musical Sunday in the Park with George:

MINKOWSKI: Oh, it's just from a play I saw once. It doesn't matter. (BEAT) The guy who sings it is this famous French painter. And his entire life is kinda falling apart. But he can always turn what's happening around him into these beautiful paintings.  HERA: And? MINKOWSKI: And... That's, I don't know. Reassuring, maybe? (BEAT) I don't know why I'm going on about this. You don't care.  HERA: I think it's interesting.  MINKOWSKI: Yeah? Most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals.  HERA: I don't see what's funny about it.  MINKOWSKI: Well, thank you Hera, but you're not exactly... you know.  HERA: I'm not... what? 

There's a couple of different things I want to pick out from this exchange. Firstly, the line "Most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals" makes me sad. I don't think she's talking about people on the Hephaestus there. Judging by the quote I talked about from Bach to the Future, Eiffel definitely wouldn't have registered Minkowski's love of musicals at this stage, and I doubt Hilbert cares at all about the hobbies of his fellow crew members. So Minkowski is talking about experiences that she's had on Earth, of people mocking her interest in musicals and thinking it doesn't fit with who she is. You can hear the impact of those experiences in Minkowski's reluctance to elaborate, in the way she says that something she obviously cares about doesn't matter, in her assumption that Hera doesn't care.

Secondly, this scene is a complicated one for Minkowski and Hera's relationship. On the one hand, Minkowski freely talks to Hera about something she's passionate about, and Hera listens and expresses interest. Hera validates Minkowski's interest in musical theatre without making a thing of it being weird and Minkowski thanks her. Again, it’s shown as an interest they could could potentially share.

But on the other hand, it seems like part of the reason Minkowski feels able to open up to Hera is because at this point Minkowski doesn't see opening up to Hera as fully equivalent to opening up to a fellow human. She doesn't just accept Hera not making fun of her interest; instead it seems Minkowski is about to imply that this lack of judgment indicates Hera's difference from humans (although she does have the decency not to say it outright). Minkowski's expectation of judgment from others contributes to her saying something very hurtful to Hera here. (This kind of potential consequence of negative self-attitude is explored a lot with Eiffel, so it's interesting that Minkowski can sometimes have a similar issue.)

Minkowski and Hera's conversation is interrupted when:

The DOOR OPENS.  EIFFEL: Hey, Minkowski, we've - What are you guys talking about?  MINKOWSKI: We were just discussing how I'm going to take away your hot water privileges if you don't reset the long-range scan.

Eiffel can obviously tell that he's walked in on a conversation that is about something other than work, or he wouldn't have asked. But Minkowski actively chooses not to tell him that she was talking to Hera about musicals. Perhaps she doesn't know how to open up to a human subordinate about it. Perhaps she doesn't trust him not to make fun of her. Perhaps she just doesn't have any impulse to talk about her interests with him. Either way, if Minkowski's love of musicals is something which reflects a side of her personality outside of her Commander role, this is a moment where she chooses not to take an opportunity to share that side of herself with Eiffel. This reflects the emotional distance between them three months into the mission, which forms a nice contrast with the next couple of quotes I'm going to talk about.

"Composition. Balance. Harmony.": Episode 54 (The Watchtower)

When Eiffel comes directly face to face with alien life, he discovers that music is the human invention that fascinates the Dear Listeners:

EIFFEL: You haven't figured out music?  BOB: ORDER. DESIGN. TENSION. COMPOSITION. BALANCE. HARMONY.  EIFFEL: (low, to himself) Minkowski's been talking about Sondheim again…

I only learned in the course of writing this post that in this moment the Dear Listeners are almost exactly quoting a repeated phrase used throughout Sunday in the Park with George. The titular protagonist lists various combinations of these qualities in multiple songs in reference to his art. In the closing song, the lyrics are "Order. Design. Tension. Composition. Balance. Light. [...] Harmony." It's not only Eiffel's references that the Dear Listeners are incorporating into their speech - they've picked this one up from Minkowski. This also suggests that some element of her appreciation for musicals and the way she talks about them has fed into the Dear Listeners' understanding of the human phenomenon of music. The Dear Listeners aren't just parroting - they understood the quote enough that they left out the word "light", arguably the only quality in that phrase which isn't a big part of music as well as visual art. Eiffel likes music too, but I don't think that this is how he'd talk about his favourite songs.

This is a refrain about finding order and beauty out of the chaos and uncertainty of life, which was also the aspect of Sunday in the Park with George that Minkowski focused on when talking about it in Memoria. It suggests that art/music could be something governed by rules and principles, which is potentially something that appeals both to Minkowski and to the Dear Listeners.

Eiffel's response to this reference is one of those little hints that reminds us that Eiffel and Minkowski have spent a lot of time together and that not all of that time has involved them being at each others' throats or actively in a life-or-death situation. Some of it has just been Minkowski going on about a musical she loves and Eiffel (willingly or not) paying enough attention that he recognises this phrase as a Sondheim quote that Minkowski has talked about. I suppose that this quote might have been in Eiffel's pop-culture-brain anyway, but judging from Eiffel's general tastes and the fact that I don't think Sunday in the Park with George is one of the more commonly known Sondheim musicals among non-musical fans, it seems more likely that this quote is something he only knows because Minkowski has talked about it. 

Eiffel sounds exasperated at the mention, like he's heard Minkowski talk about Sondheim far too much. But I'd argue that this still says something positive about their relationship, when we contrast it with a couple of other moments I've already mentioned. Firstly, when her previous musical theatre ambitions are revealed to Jacobi, Maxwell, and Lovelace in Need to Know, Minkowski seems embarrassed and defensive. Secondly, in the memory from Memoria, she avoids telling Eiffel that she was talking about this same musical. Yet, by the time The Watchtower takes place, Eiffel is sick of hearing Minkowski talk about Sondheim. She doesn't have the same barriers up in sharing her interests with him, even though he doesn't have the same interests. I think this is a demonstration of how comfortable she feels with him. It's a hint at the kind of easy downtime that they've sometimes shared.

"One day more": Episode 61 (Brave New World)

Eiffel recognises another musical reference of Minkowski’s in the finale. As the crew are preparing for their final confrontation with Cutter and co., Minkowski quotes Les Misérables, mostly to herself - but Eiffel recognises the lyrics and joins in:

EIFFEL: Hey - chin up, soldier. We're almost through. Just one more day, and then we're done.  MINKOWSKI: Yeah, one more day. (more to herself) The time is now, the place is here - one day more.  EIFFEL: - one day more.  They both stop, dead in their tracks. MINKOWSKI: Did you just - ?  EIFFEL: Was that what I - ?  They look at each other: No way. And BURST INTO LAUGHTER.  EIFFEL: Man... this is really it, huh? The end of everything. 

It feels really important that Minkowski and Eiffel share this moment of togetherness before she tries to send him back to Earth and before the rest of the action goes down. I think there’s some nice symbolism about them finding a way to communicate that they both understand. Making references is Eiffel's thing, and musicals are Minkowski's thing, so this is a synthesis of their two approaches. Again, there's a contrast with Minkowski's previous unwillingness to share her musical theatre passions with Eiffel (at least without the mitigating circumstances of a mandatory talent show and some kind of intoxicating substance).

I talked about the significance of the fact that they reference this particular musical in this post from ages ago. I don't think it's too much of a spoiler for Les Misérables to say that the revolution that the song One Day More is building up to does not end well for the revolutionaries. When Eiffel says "Just one more day, and then we're done", it encompasses both the possibility that the crew will escape to travel back to Earth and the possibility that they will all die. Minkowski's reference to a famously tragic musical suggests that it's the latter possibility that's at the forefront of her mind (right before she tries to send Eiffel away from the danger). But Les Misérables is also a story about people standing together in solidarity against powerful oppressive forces, which gives particular resonance to the way that this reference brings Eiffel and Minkowski together in a moment of being completely on the same wavelength as they prepare to fight Cutter and Pryce's plan.

When they laugh here, it's not about the 'hilariousness' of Minkowski's interest in musicals, it's about their unexpected unison - Eiffel's recognition of Minkowski's reference and Minkowski's surprise at the fact he joined in. It's a laugh of togetherness, of shared understanding, of friendship. It's a moment of lightness in dark times. And that moment is provided by Minkowski's pop culture interests, not Eiffel's. In spite of all they've been through, she's not lost that part of herself, and in fact, she's more open about it, at least to Eiffel.

I'll finish by highlighting what Eiffel says when he's trying to get into character to impersonate Minkowski so he can turn the Sol around:

EIFFEL: Umm... yes, this is Lieutenant Commander Renée Minkowski. I'm... uh... well I sure love schedules, and, uh, musicals. And that man, who I married…

I just think this is a nice example of Eiffel not defining Minkowski solely by her professional Commander role. Sure, she likes schedules (probably in a personal as well a professional capacity to be fair), but she also loves musicals, and her husband. It is a fairly reductive overview of her as a person, but it feels reductive in a fond way, like these things are part of Minkowski's brand to Eiffel in a way that he might affectionately tease her about. (Credit to @commsroom for this thought.) His view of Minkowski has come a long way from "our resident Statsi agent" or even just "you must have some hobbies other than making trains run on time." He doesn't see any contradiction or inherent humour in Lieutenant Commander Renée Minkowski's appreciation of musicals.

Conclusion

Minkowski's love of musical theatre is used to deepen her characterisation and is one of the ways in which we gradually begin to see her complexity beyond the strict Commander archetype. The degree to which she is prepared to share this interest at various points is used to illustrate the nature of her relationships with other characters: a general unwillingness to show a less serious side of herself; a complicated potential shared interest with Hera; and the growing understanding between her and Eiffel.

If you read this whole thing, well done / thank you 😄 It wasn't meant to be this long - it just happened… Feel free to share your thoughts!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

.

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC.

Sebastian has been searching for himself ever since he has freed himself from the shackles of Arasaka. Stripped from his identity and only just now rediscovering his own agency in life, he struggles with seeing his own worth— too used to existing solely for a purpose, and too used to relying on others' perception of him to define this purpose in the first place. He wants nothing more than to get back to himself; if there even is a self to get back to at all. SEBASTIAN VIDAL || BELONGS TO @MOJAVES.

mahmoud darwish, i didn't apologize to the well // 'out of control', by ruslan isinev // salt in the wound; boygenius // vardges petrosyan, a shirt made of fire // by liam wong // this is love; air traffic controller // bilal al-shams, sacrifice // 'the dying gladiator', by pierre julien // flesh and bone; black math // by hel7l7 // romance; fontaines d.c. // 'the invisible man smokes', rick castro // little words; the happy fits // georges bataille, the dead man // by matthew grant anson // deep water; american authors // kay redfield jamison, an unquiet mind: a memoir of moods and madness

[abandonedquishe]

The realisation of the fact that I'm the creator of one of the few games with a blind protagonist just dawned on me

[vargaslovinghours]

Y’all are being subjected to my Sims 2 tests, so there

The other set of Vargases came over for a visit and Scriabin picked up Shmee and started talking to Scriabin through him. Very normal, very usual

I downloaded some circle-glasses recolours and hghghh they look so good! Closer every day to his final details! Getting ever closer!

Edgar too! I made him a custom hair with a lighter undercut - I’m mostly happy with it, probably could’ve shifted it a shade closer to his skintone but the texturing was weird no matter what :P And his stripey shirt! I wish Body Shop didn’t have that hands-on-hips pose lol, it looks so much better in-game, but that’s all the better :)

I got some new clothes for Todd as well! As soon as I saw this ‘fit I was like “Oh that’s 100% Todd there he is.” Scriadad hug ♥ So cute

Foot-dancing together stopp it’s so cute!!

The way he looks at them stoppp <3 <3 They kept doing this right up til they left for home haha, Todd’s giggles are the cutest

Used SimPE to save him to the Body Shop, I now have infinite copies of The Boyyyy ♪

Moved him in with his “parents” as just shadow people basically, they’re not gonna matter in a bit as long as I remember how to get the Social Worker/Adoption process to work properly. Get her Todd!!

Wanna play? :D

Menacing :(

Look, Todd, your new dads are here! Initially I wasn’t sure who I wanted to adopt him, got lots of options; the first passes, the married couple with their own Todd, Johnny?? He definitely doesn’t have the facilities for a child lol But these are the ones that showed up on their own, so the married Vargases are the winners!

Scriabin cares more about him than his actual parents ;; A stranger off the street shows him more care! Not that it’s a high watermark

Look at him being a good dad!

Weh, he just wants friends ;; Poor baby

Best timeline, thank you

While we wait for CPS, let’s get some other interactions in! Nny is mean so he tended to prank the other two with a nose flick - mostly Edgar lol ♪ Now kiss

“Oh please don’t break all my bones~ :3” I love Todd looking up at them haha <3

Pffft, I think he was talking about the other Scriabin and just how attractive he is. Classic Scriabin. Alternatively, also funny to imagine him bragging himself up about how he’s just so handsome that Edgar can’t help but love him hahaha ♪

Allow me to tickle you with my KNIFE! >:D

Get a load of this guy lol

He ended up passing out at one point - I forgot which motives make CPS show up >.> - and completely 0%’d his comfort, but for some reason stargazing increased it?? It’s the same ground wh

Is two not enough to satisfy your butterfly bloodlust child?? He ended up with three, I had him release them before he was picked up by the Social Worker - success!

He rolled a new Want as soon as Todd was taken away - “Wants to see Ghost of Todd” Woah, dark! :0

And here he is on the married Vargases’ lot!! Success!! I did it right!! Heck yeah! :D Unfortunately they were uh, indisposed at the time. Good job guys pft

Goes right for Shmee, he really is Todd <3

[seeminglyseph]

while I've been distracted vroid added tails. time for me to try and mix my limited understanding of 3D modeling technology and vroid's limited boundaries again to try and make some character variations since my kemonomimi characters can have tails I don't have to learn a separate program or get weird with clothing to put together.

I honestly should just learn the right program to animate these models in. they look a lot like the MMD models, but some of it is almost like... a language barrier. It's what I get for using a largely Japanese program with a handful of passionate global users, and having kinda a learning disability lmao. but like sometimes it is a hard skill to pick up

I'm getting passionate again though now that there's tails so I'm probably gonna get all hyper fixated and make a bunch of models or experiment with some textures. I'll try not to spend money on booth though 'cause I really don't have any. dear brain; work with what you have. don't buy any new textures or presets.

[moonlight-at-dawn]

Have a preview of Meoto de Safari!

[peaceblank]

Should I pursue a degree as pathology assistant, it pays well, but I'd have to stick around in this job, and I dont want to go back to school again.

[moyazaika]

housewife syndrome

yandere! rockstar x fem! reader

cw; possessive + obsessive behaviour, severe mental instability, paranoia, anxiety, violence, heavy nsfw themes, mdni 18+

genie's notes; commissioned piece by a very sweet anon ♡ thank you so much for trusting me with this absolutely stunning idea. i’ve always been a fan of domestic horror, especially of the spiralling housewife variety, so it was fun to explore a new dynamic and fresh writing style. <3

"welcome home, sweetheart!" the television runs on low volume in the background as you greet your husband with a knowing smile. you run through the motions as you always do, make sure to ask with the most innocence you can muster, "how was your day?"

feroze can make out the sound of gallant applause that indicates you'd been watching reruns of last night's award ceremony.

"such a fucking drag." your husband pulls you into his arms, buries his head into the crook of your neck with a long, satisfied sigh and takes his sweet, sweet time to breathe you in. "couldn't fucking wait to come home to you, meri jaan."

his answer remains the same as it is every other day, and you can't help but smile against his lips when he pulls you in to steal a little kiss; you sigh into his mouth, and feroze is so fucking overwhelmed by gratitude for the familiarity and comfort of this little routine the two of you have seemed to settle down into so well.

"i love when you call me that," you confess; my life.

you know just as well as him that, well—it wasn't always this easy.

"yeah," feroze hums. "i know you do, baby."

you weren't always so lovely for him, were you?

-

you're quiet.

though the two of you are sitting across from each other at the dining table, your attention is clearly elsewhere. conversation is slow, if not stagnant. it's a far cry from how talkative you usually are; and though he would never fucking admit it, least of all to you, he worries, for a fraction of a second, that things are slipping.

"meri jaan?" he sets down his fork very carefully, reaches for your hands over the table.

you blink, pulled away from wherever you'd been lost in your mind and back down to this moment that stretches on before you.

"oh, sorry, my love. what was that?"

feroze watches your eyes quietly track the movement of his fingers, sliding over your wrists, lingering, momentarily, on your pulse—nice and steady—before they intertwine with your own.

your gaze lands on him, then, expectant. he drags his thumb over your knuckles, glad to find they're soft; unmarred by any labour. he loves having you here, tucked away within the walls of this home he built just for you, away from the rest of the rotten world.

such a darling girl like you deserves to have everything taken care of for you. as far as he's concerned, the only thing on your mind should be him.

which is why the silence is beginning to irritate him, now. he's not really upset with you, doesn't have a reason to be, just yet—he's just wondering what it is you're so focused on. where do you keep going back to in that head of yours, and why aren't you here with him?

is this where it all falls apart?

—again?

"rosy?" you try. "is everything alright?"

"yeah," feroze's hazel eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, endearingly patient. "i just wanted to know how your day was."

"ugh, don't remind me." you stick your tongue out. "it was so boring. i woke up so late today and didn't really do anything interesting."

"shit, i'm sorry to hear that, baby."

your husband nods towards the television, still playing from inside the living room across the hall; the screen's bright colours reflect against the glass windows that take up half the wall. though the program is muted, he can still hear the echoes from the cacophony of applause ringing loud and true.

the four hour program's been running on loop on some of the smaller channels, and you really seem to enjoy tuning in, he's noticed.

it would be more difficult not to notice this new habit of yours, really. because if he's been counting right, this is the seventh time you've seen the whole thing through to the end.

"seems like you were at least watching the music thing again."

"well, when my stunning husband won half of the awards," you shrug coyly. "how could i not?"

"flattery won't get you anywhere," feroze deigns, though neither of you mention the involuntary curl to his lips as they lift into a small, self-satisfied smile.

"huh, that's strange," you frown, pull your hands away from his own and make a show of examining the elaborately stacked engagement ring and marital band wrapped around your finger. "if i seem to remember correctly, flattery is exactly what got me this ring."

"oh," he laughs. "is that so?"

"uhuh," you nod, still admiring the rings. they're big and they're flashy and there's no fucking chance anyone could ever miss the sight of them; make the mistake of misunderstanding what they mean. you're so obviously his, and fuck, it suits you so perfectly to belong to him.

i love you, he thinks fiercely. i fucking love you.

"you've got an ego, rosy." your knowing gaze flickers back to him, accompanied by a teasing smile. "bit of a praise kink, too."

"and yet, darling wife," he'll never tire of calling you that; never really overcome the thrill that overwhelms him when he sees you adorned in the markers of his devotion and tucked away all safe and sound. "you're the only person whose words mean anything to me."

"ohh, is that so?" you taunt, "whatever happened to 'flattery won't get you anywhere?'"

feroze takes in the sight of you. you're dressed casual, donned in a baggy old shirt and a pair of his softest sweats hanging low off your hips. comfortable in your own home, as you should fucking feel, you have no makeup on, and your hair is unkempt; overdue for a shower; but fuck if he cares.

feroze decides, within a moment, that he needs you—

now.

"come here, meri jaan. i'll show you."

"you greedy, greedy man," you chastise lightly, rising from your seat. "i've just fed you dinner and you're still salivating at my table."

feroze watches you make the small effort of pushing your chair in, before turning on your heel. you pause in the doorway for a second, spare him a knowing glance over your shoulder; "well? aren't you hungry, darling husband?"

he knows that none of it evades you; the nervous bob of his adam's apple as he swallows. the way his fingers are digging into the edge of the table to keep from sinking inside of you right here. his heart is racing; his pants are tight. though you're so willing to be his now, he remembers it wasn't always this easy.

"my love." feroze grits out, "i'm fucking starving."

you disappear into the hallway, mellifluous laughter like the loveliest song, echoing off the walls—inside of his head, for fuck's sake—as your husband follows faithfully behind you when you lead him into the bedroom.

dinner goes cold on the table. you never touched your plate.

upstairs, minutes later, your husband bottoms out inside of the welcoming warmth of your sweet cunt, just as your fingers brush against the butcher's knife tucked right underneath your pillow.

-

feroze gets you to come twice before he decides he has his fill. he's rummaging through your nightstand for the contraceptives he knows you keep in there. it's got less to do with what he wants and more to do with what he believes is best for the two of you.

it's not that he doesn't want children; he dreams of them often. a little baby swaddled in the softest fabrics, wrapping its entire hand around just one of his fingers. the sound of a second pair of footsteps excitedly running down the hall every time he comes home from the studio, from tour. something more to take care of. to keep you busy.

but your husband knows you.

and though he's always been selfish, he can't risk kids until—well, until he knows you won't try to kill them.

it's taken you years to accept him. he won't undo that.

feroze, so caught up in his thoughts, only really registers the blade until it's slicing into his skin, the sharp edge of it pressing against the side of his neck with just enough pressure to draw blood.

he is disappointed, though by no means surprised, to find you on the other end wielding the knife.

he turns to face you, abandoning his search. you're holding onto the hilt of your makeshift weapon with trembling hands, and though he's suddenly overcome by exhaustion—because, baby, how many more times are you going to pull this—an involuntary shiver runs down his spine at the sight nonetheless.

"jaan," he tries to reason with you in hushed tones; oh, love. "what are you doing?"

you dig the knife in just a little deeper, and he winces; "i hate you, feroze." the words sting, though the relative lack of conviction they’re laced with serves as a promising sign of reconciliation.

"i know, baby. can you please just put the knife down so we can talk like adults?"

he glimpses the almost imperceptible change immediately.

the lines of hesitation on your face; a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. when your hold on the weapon looses just the tiniest fraction of an inch, he wastes no time in gently but firmly prying the knife from out of your trembling hands; tosses it underneath the bed where it lands out of your reach.

he’s getting better at this. gets through to you so much sooner than he used to.

you’re listening, now, aren’t you?

the thought of it makes him oddly proud.

"there we go," feroze says. you're still shaking, and though he wants so fucking desperately to pull you closer and console you—he's learnt to tread the waters carefully in times like these. you're evidently scared. obviously upset with him. he can give you a little room to breathe. “now do you want to use your words and talk to me properly?”

“i keep rewatching the awards show. every other winner had someone there with them. some girlfriend or wife they kissed before they went on stage. you’re the only one who—” you swallow, voice wavering. “i’m the only one who wasn’t there. i’m the only one who’s kept hidden away.”

“you don’t want to show me off.” the tears fall almost immediately. “you’re ashamed of me.”

there are millions of words in the english language, and millions more in his own. he’s put into words every fleeting feeling you’ve made him feel; spun both the most magnificent and mundane of emotions into beautiful songs and compelling lyrics and composed entire albums from nothing—and yet, somehow, in this moment all of it evades him.

"i spend all day stuck here w-waiting for you to come home, and when you do—i keep thinking about all those ceremonies and galas and parties you go to, rooms i can never follow you into—and i hate you. i hate you for how much you hate me—”

“i’m sorry,” feroze’s hands run up your spine, to lightly curl his fingers around the back of your neck. he tilts your head up so that you’re meeting his gaze; leaves you nowhere to look away, “meri jaan.”

his touch is so soft and so, so cold against your skin. you've always run warmer than him; but he thinks you might be burning up right now. maybe you've got a fever; or maybe you're just this delirious even without one. it doesn't fucking matter, doesn't change anything.

“i’m sorry for ever leaving you alone long enough to even think that. let me make it up to you. let me show you how much i adore you. let me build you back up again.”

“you can’t fix this,” you whisper.

he smiles, but it’s strange; doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “so you said the last time.”

-

hours later, you’re less of a sobbing wreck when he’s got you perched in his lap, and all curled up under his chin. “okay… then…” you sniff. your words are somewhat muffled as you bury your face into your husband’s chest. “i’m sorry, too. i didn’t mean to hurt you, rosy. i was just scared, i-i promise.”

"i know.” his knuckles wipe away the tears drying on your cheeks. “give me a kiss, please.”

and ever the sweet wife, you do; but your lips are trembling.

fuck, that’s—

shit.

—not going to work, is it?

with a gentle but firm hand, he pushes you down onto the bed and watches you land on your back amidst the dozens of pillows that decorate the bed. even then, the softest thing here is you. he forgets that, sometimes. let this be a lesson, he thinks to himself, to keep your fragility in mind. this is only further proof that you need him more than he'd even realised.

but you picked the right man, didn’t you? because none of that scares him.

the two of you have faced far more difficult times together; this is just a little hiccup in your life as a married couple. some story you’ll look back on and laugh about, when you’re all better.

so when you look up at him with wide, wet eyes and ask, "its just—can you promise me you still love me one more time?”

feroze regards you closely. you’re so beautiful. so fucking perfect that it overwhelms him. sometimes, he wishes you could see yourself the way that he sees you. though he’s always believed that may just scare you; knowing how deep his devotion really runs. things are fine as they are now.

well, mostly.

he has decided that he will retire from music completely, but the two of you can broach that topic when you’re in a better headspace for it. it’s been a long time coming. work keeps the money coming in, and he wants to spoil you but—he wants you to be happy, above all. you don’t really know what you’re asking for right now, but he has every intention of giving you exactly what it is you wished for.

he can’t give in when you beg to come along with him—but he can come and hide away next to you in this little pocket of the world that solely belongs to the two of you.

"you drive me to madness, my love. nothing about this life means anything if i can’t keep you happy.”

the two of you never had a white wedding; because he wanted to honour your union the right way and celebrate you as his culture deigned. so, yes, he never got to read you any vows, but he'd like to think you've come to know him well enough to understand he doesn't necessarily need to say something so sacred out loud for it to hold true.

"do you understand? i love you," he lowers his forehead against yours. “till death does us apart.”

you put your heart in his hands one more time, looking so small, so vulnerable beneath him. "you promise?"

"i promise," he closes his eyes and revels in the soft, sweeping feeling of your lashes fluttering against his own. "always and forever, meri jaan."

feroze loves you, of this he's certain.

he also knows that you fucking terrify him.

it's a small price to pay, if it means keeping you—

besides, he thinks, reaching once more for the contraceptive pills on the nightstand.

—marriage is all about compromise, is it not?

[theerurishipper]

-

-

-

-

"So, I talked to Clark today."

"Hm," Bruce grunts, as the voice of his eldest fills the Batcave. He has a brief idea of what this is about.

"What did you do, Bruce?"

Bruce leans back in his seat. "When Superman first created an account on Twitter, Clark figured it would only be a matter of time before Luthor followed suit. So, he approached me for help. He had the idea of taking up every handle that Luthor could possibly use for himself." He pauses. "I thought it was childish and irresponsible."

"Naturally."

"Nevertheless, I helped him out by developing a program that would generate all possible combinations of usernames involving the words "Lex" and "Luthor." It developed all possible combinations by cross-referencing—"

"I get the jist, thanks."

Bruce grunts. "So we generated the usernames, and Clark used the Batcomputer and his superspeed to create all the accounts. That very night, Luthor created his own account without being able to use 'Lex Luthor' in his name."

Dick whistles, and he can hear another voice whooping in the background. "I see Tim is visiting Bludhaven."

Dick ignores the change in subject. "Wait, is that the day I found the Batcomputer keyboard completely annihilated? Because you and Clark wanted to pull a fast one on Luthor?"

"...There were a lot of usernames."

"Well played, B! I didn't know you had it in you! I apologize for all the times I called you humorless."

"Hm."

"So that's why you and Clark were giggling so much that morning, huh?"

Bruce stills. "I didn't... giggle."

Dick laughs on the other side, while Haley's barks and Tim's laughter filter in from the background. "I heard you, Bruce. I was there."

"At 6 in the morning?"

"Yeah, I wanted to use the bars in the cave, but when I showed up, the both of you were bent over the Batcomputer giggling about something." He chuckles lightly. "I didn't say anything because I knew you wouldn't tell me anyway."

"Hn."

"Oh, chill out. So I saw you being a human being, big deal." Dick sounds exasperated, but Bruce can hear the smile in his voice. He allows himself a small one as well.

"Hm."

"So, was it worth it?"

Bruce thinks about the way Luthor's face had turned red with rage, so red that he could make it out with startling clarity even from the heavily pixelated picture Clark had sent him. The picture, of course, had been taken when he'd gone over to LexCorp as Superman to discreetly spy through Luthor's window and enjoy his reaction in real time.

"It was."

Amidst Dick's snickers, Tim's voice pipes up. "For amateurs, it was a solid prank, Bruce. But I think it's time to take it to the next logical step."

Bruce stops. He takes a moment to think about the millions of possible consequences and ramifications that this could lead to. He considers his options. He comes to a definitive decision.

"I'm listening."

-

Here's the link to the video Bruce linked if anyone is interested. It's actually really funny, I recommend checking it out.

First <- Part 4 <- Part 5 -> Part 6

Masterpost

[magicmagica]

[keen-li]

All Aisle Ever Need 01 | jjk

chapter: 1/ ?

summary: You decide to take a risk and sign up for a program where you marry a complete stranger. You’re surprisingly okay with the idea—excited, even—though the occasional nerves still creep in. This could either be the best or worst decision of your life. Still, the mystery of it all feels thrilling, and you've made peace with not knowing the man you’re about to marry. No matter who he is, you’re ready to go through with it.

But on your wedding day, as you walk down the aisle, something makes you squint. There’s something familiar about the man standing at the altar. And then it hits you… you know him. You've made promises to yourself before, so many of them broken. This won't be any different...shit.

pairing: Jungkook x fem reader.

story type: series.

genre: There's-something-i-don't-like-about-you to lovers, second chance au, slow burn, angst, fluff, smut.

rating: m. Mdni

wordcount: 8.2k+

warnings for chapter: troubled parental dynamics/figures. It's implied that they are both grown, Jungkook is older than reader(the age is subjective). cussing. found family. none really from here on.

A/n: though of this whilst watching MAFS. i've been in a burnout and this got me out of it?. please don't ask me if it's a happy ending story(i'm not saying it is or is not.) I just feel if you ask me that then you're not really interested in the story.

anyways I hope you enjoys it.

date: 25/04/25

Prev | next

story under cut.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

You've always bought the same type of clothes, jewellery, produce as well. Why would you need anything else when you enjoy what you have.

And maybe that’s why you’re in the position you’re in now.

You should’ve been smarter and known that emptiness would follow you soon enough.

 If you had taken the leap sooner--stepped out of the one-way route to love--you’d already be where you’re trying to force yourself now.

You would’ve realised that maybe what you’re looking isn’t in the men you find pleasure in.

You'd be getting married conventionally, and not having to sign up for some program.

Comfort comes cause the type of man you want is hard to find. He’s either already married or behind his desk overworking himself.

There is a little ego-death, just a little. Having to confront yourself on the type of man you want when you're at your limit is humbling. It should be something you know about yourself already.

You're not best at caring of yourself of late. When was the last time you had a self-care? You're still alive so it's fine.

Just like your type; you've been stuffing yourself behind your desk any chance you get.

But before your wedding you swear you’ll have a day to care for yourself. Physically at least.

You’ve been shaking your head for coming to this point, but your solace is in hope.

Putting your chance at love in someone else’s hands—someone trained, someone professional—might actually be the smartest move you’ve made in terms of relationships. That way, your own traits that have gotten you nowhere won’t come into play.

None of your past relationships have ever seen daylight because of how dumb you end up feeling for indulging in them, for believing they could be more.

They could never see the sun, let alone could they see the conversation of marriage.

You’ve tried to bring up the topic of marriage, and immediately they turn it down or change the subject. After that, you never bring it up again.

Honestly, after experiencing enough of that, you quit on the idea of commitment. Maybe you were stupid for wanting that.

What does marriage have that you can’t get from a simple relationship bound by an unstable verbal agreement.

You could definitely survive on that, right?

That’s what past you got by saying to herself.

You gave up on getting attached. It was just hook up and get out. None of them ever wanted anything serious, so you became that too. But it was never fulfilling, you thought that would be your answer. But it's not who you are.

You went on and it wasn’t long until you felt the emptiness of it all. And you had enough.

But still, somehow you still got stuck with the bro type. You'd like to blame lust but your therapist would like to blame your fear of being alone. You get her point but you don't think it fits your case well. You've never felt lonely or been afraid of it.

Anyways, you’ve dealt with that type for so long and you conclude if was just lust.

So, many of the guys following your frontal lobe development, have told you that you were too much. But all that meant to you was you knew what you wanted and they were not in the same frame. You have goals.

Now you want something serious and someone serious too. Someone who knows what they want and where they want to be in the future. Someone who’s going to have a plan immediately they see you. Because you do.

“I have to tell you guys something.” You clear your throat calling for your friend's attention.

Taehyung's head snaps to you. Jisoo on the other hand meets you with her eyes first.

You’d been hanging out normally, just chatting, laughing and catching up.

No moment was perfect enough to say what you wanted to, so you waited. But you’d been laughing and getting carried away with connected stories that the moment was not getting perfect enough.

For a moment you contemplated procrastinating the news. But if you procrastinated this any further you’d end up having no one at the venue.

So, being presented with the opportunity when a silence settled. It was now or never.

You want lie that it’s excitement, but there’s nothing exciting about the dryness in your throat.

You watch taehyung, seated on a stool elbows leaning against your island, and Jisoo standing next to you, walking from the fridge to the sink. Shit you have their attention.

That’s what you wanted. Speak.

You’ve been friends with Taehyung the longest because you were at the same high school, and you met Jisoo in university because you were in the same dorm and happened to be doing the same program. You all got along as a group and stayed that way. So, being there for each other through most life events, you have to tell them no matter how nervous you are.

And knowing them, what you’re about to say is far from  what they expect.

Due to the serious and nervous undertone in your voice, they stare at you closely, inspecting your awkward tucking in of lips. Normally, Taehyung would be quick to say something witty about your behaviour, but he’s silent, only making you more nervous.

You release your lips and suck in a breath. “Okay... promise not to judge?” You warn, watching them both, but focusing more on Taehyung.

“What the fuck are you 'bout to say?” He narrows his eyes at you like he does when investigating you about a boyfriend. Does he think that’s what you’re about to say?

“You’re not going to judge?” You ask once more for good measure but it serves to irritate them. You chuckle like it’s amusing. Nothing is amusing, not after you tell them.

“At this point, we will.” Jisoo exclaims with a laugh, and Taehyung follows.

"Yeah, we might just."

Feeling the non-existent pressure on your neck, you pull your mouth open. “Fine.” You mumble to yourself for encouragement. There’s no going back; you’ve already told them there is something to be said. “I’m getting married.” It comes out quick and rushed, if they hadn’t known you like they do it could’ve been sworn you had just spoken gibberish.

They look confused. Do you repeat yourself?

You probably shouldn’t have started it that way. You could’ve started with  explaining  the program. Cause now they think you’ve lost your mind.

The two stare at your empty ring finger, then at each other, and then back to you, hoping you’ll clarify with a mocking laughter at their foolishness.

“What?” you say fumbling with the finger. They look at you like you’ve finally lost your last marble.

“To who?” They thunder in unison, confusion dripping from each syllable.

The reaction doesn’t shock you, and you don’t judge the question either. But little do they know you’ve been wondering the same thing as well.

“Well, I don’t know that part, but...” you feel a little ashamed to say it because they will think you’re definitely crazy now. You’ve never been the type to do something like this. They knew you wanted to get married, but not this much.

“Do we need to get you on medication?” you're not on any medication but the words still spill out of Jisoo’s mouth with concern and shock.

Your news has, Taehyung sitting up with folded arms, his eyebrows knit so hard they could touch.

“You barely have a boyfriend, what do you mean marriage, babes?” You turn your head away from Taehyung’s eyes. This is embarrassing.

It’s true for them it’s quite the jump, but if you could just explain yourself...

“You're hiding a boyfriend?”

A boyfriend? it’s comical.

After your nervous laughter dies down, you elaborate. “No. I signed up for this thing where you get married to a stranger.” You explain, your hands waving as you speak. It’s something you always do when you’re defending yourself.

As you process the words to use, you realise it does sound not like you. You’d definitely react like the same. “It’s called Married at First Sight.”

“Wow.” Is all that you get back. What the hell do you do with that?

“I got picked, which means I’m getting married.”

“To a random guy?”

 You nod, lips folding again.

Telling your friends makes all this feel so real. You still can’t believe you signed up for this, let alone that you got picked. Something in you hoped you wouldn’t get picked because 1. what are the odds? And 2. maybe if you didn’t get picked, it would be a sign from the universe that you should just sit your ass down.

Your fingers fumble with the marble of your counter. As much as you’ve seen their reaction, you still don’t know what they think and it's making you feel more embarrassed. If they don’t support you or want you doing this, what the hell would you do? What if they think it’s stupid. “What do you think? You’re making me nervous.”

“I mean—how do you feel?”

“I’m okay." You scoff. “But I’m going into this so blind. And I kind of hate the feeling. But it’s nice to have the weight of finding a match out of my hands.” But having the control out of your hands is not like you, so that’s where the nerves are coming from as well. Cause what if they don’t give you what you want?

“Why’d you sign up, though? could’ve set you up with this guy I know.”

You appreciate your friends setting you up on blind dates; you really do. But they never go well, which is not on them but more on the guys. Surface level, they look like a match for you, but mentally and emotionally, they couldn’t be further from what you want. Maybe you need to look deeper than the superficial, which is honestly what this program is doing for you.

“Those don’t go well for me. You know that.” They do.

Did you mention that Jisoo is engaged? You’ve never seen her happier. She wasn’t even this happy when she graduated.

And you want that too. You’ve always thrown yourself into school and work to suffice for the love you weren’t able to feel. And growing up you always relied on academic validation. But it could only carry you so far after you hit every milestone and still felt nothing. The only thing that came close were the relationships. Situationships.

“You really want to do this?” jisoo coos.

“it’s not so bad to try"

“If they give you what you want.” Taehyung intersects.

You hope they do. “I wrote in detail, so they better.”

You have no clue what criteria they go by, but it couldn't be something contrary to your asks.

You get excited thinking of the perfect man for you standing at the end of the aisle. Like, gosh, you’re going to be so happy. Your stomach flutters already.

“They probably know what I need though.”

“Yeah. But you still want the basics, like—” Jisoo doesn’t even have a chance to finish when you cut in.

“Oh yeah... tall, smart, a man with a plan type of thing.” You feel so childish for being so excited about this. But it’s more about the excitement of having the perfect man for you. You try not to picture his physical appearance because you might end up disappointed if you linger on it for too long.

Taehyung and Jisoo smile, listening to how excited you are. If you’re happy, they are too; that’s all they care about. That what what think of and not that this is the most conventional way to go about it.

Returning to your cooking, you decide to dig more into their thoughts. “What do you guys think I need?”

Feeling experienced, Taehyung takes the lead to share. He’s heard and seen a fair share of your crushes and boyfriends and how it's ended, so he feels like he knows what you’d like. “Definitely a business-style, you know. Sleek back hair, tall, nerdy.”

“Is that what I give off?” You chuckle a brow raised. Embarrassed. You've definitely grown into that assumption.

You do. You’ve always been the academic type and Taehyung’s parents always trashed him for not being like you. Even though he wasn’t even a bad student. You always made him look bad. But that's all to say you’re smart and a work focused person,  so you need a man who is the same.

You also like to be control. Whether that’s knowing all the tiny details of an event, or planning all the trips. As much as he benefits from it, Taehyung is definitely sure you use it as a coping mechanism for something.

“You need someone who can take control.” He adds.

"But still obsessed with her." Jisoo chirps in and Taehyung couldn't nod harder.

It would be nice to have someone to do things with. But an obsessed man? You're not sure. You want him to love you but shouldn't be too overbearing.

“I feel crazy for doing this.” You bite your lower lip, letting your worries out a little. “Like I’m seriously going to get married to a stranger.” You believe it less the more you say it.

“It’s not the conventional way, but you know we’ll be there for you no matter what.” You warm into Jisoo’s rub on your back. You’re trying to mask your true nerves with excitement; you doubt it’s fully working, but you’re trying. “As long as you’re happy And he makes you happy.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” Taehyung promises, sounding more like a threat to your groom.

You seem serious about it and it must be if you got picked. So the only power he has is to be there for you as a friend. Its honestly not such a bad thing, if he wanted to get married he'd think of doing it like this too. It more thrilling. And there’s nothing Taehyung loves more than thrill.

Having your friends feels comforting, and it’s all you need. Really. But with how serious this is, you’re going to have to call your family soon, and you’re not ready for that. The idea raise the bile in you.

Unlike your friends, you have no clue how they’ll feel. You haven’t spoken to them in a while but the last thing they’d be thinking to hear from you is marriage. The last you remember none of them thought you were marriage material.

It's out of courtesy that you’re even telling them. But no matter what they say, you’ve already been picked, and you are getting married.

“it's still crazy though.” this isn't how he imagined this going. But he should be the last person calling you crazy when it’s the only thing he knows. But you get it; it’s out of your character to do something like this. But who knows you could find what you’re looking for outside of your comfort zone. It’s not 100%, but you’re ready to take that risk. “Imagine you marry an ex...”

Taehyung is not helping soothe you. The thought has crossed your mind before.

“Don’t scare me,” you brush off the thought with a hand on your chest, and they both can’t help but laugh. It would be so funny if you walked down the aisle and it was one of your stupid exes. Gosh... you’d walk out immediately, no question. “Don't think they would be serious enough for marriage.” They’re all probably out there still being reckless and whatever.

“What if he doesn’t like something that you like?”

“Don’t know" you chuckle "But I’d be damned if he doesn’t want to listen to my playlists.”

“Ouu, he’d be a gone man if he didn’t like your mugs too.” You know Jisoo’s being sarcastic; for some reason, everyone dislikes your mugs. The designs specifically. But you like them, so he would be damned if he didn’t like them.

“I mean, we have 3 months until we decide whether we want to be together or not....”

“Would you want to get divorced?”

You don’t even want to think of that. Divorce is not something you think about or want to think about. You know how much you hate it and how it affects children. You don’t have kids with the man, but still, you just hate divorce. It feels too much like failure.

“I hope not, but if he’s completely unreasonable, then I’ll have no choice.” You wouldn’t want to fight for something that bears no fruit. But you pray that’s not going to be the case. It shouldn't be too bad.

“I just want to like him, and I hope he likes me too. I would want this to work out.” You stare blankly at your hands. “I don’t know if I’d be able to look for love again after this.”

You’re being to dramatic but that’s because this feels like all you have.

“In that case, let’s pray he’s the one.”

You all go quiet for a second. The pot on the stove starts to bubble.

“This is real,” you murmur.

And somehow, that thought is both terrifying—and thrilling.

--

“Namjoon, what do you think?” He’s the only one who’s been quiet about what just came out of jungkook’s mouth.

It’s not the idea of Jungkook getting married to a stranger that’s concerning (Though that’s its own thing.) It’s more about the idea of Jungkook getting married in general.

“I mean—do what makes you happy. It’s not the conventional way...” Namjoon begins, and Jungkook can’t help but roll his eyes at how serious his friend is being. He’s not surprised, though; Namjoon has always been the more serious and mature one between the two. Unlike Jungkook, Namjoon has always known what to do and when to do it. He is the kind of guy with structure, but Jungkook, on the other hand, is more of the go-with-the-flow kind of person.

He does things on a whim, reckless with who he goes out with. Relationships have always been fun for him; he never took them seriously. That was until he sat with himself and looked around. All of his friends were settling down and were not available to go out. One was having a child, the other was getting married, and standing at the altar as a groomsman so often, had him worried about what he was doing.

He watched his friends fall in love and be so happy; he wanted that too. Could he have it too? The bro lifestyle he was living was not going to give him that.

He hid behind hookups so much that he hadn’t realized he did want to settle down, find a nice woman, and live that picture-perfect life, he saw his parents have.

And it was time for that. So, by chance and through his coworker, he stumbled upon this program and signed up.

He wasn't going to get picked, so it wouldn’t be so bad if he did try.

He never had much hope in it; like, how would some experts know from a form who to pair him up with? It was a scam to him. His plan was to go out and meet ladies the usual way, but even they didn’t see him so seriously; he was just a hookup to them too. It did hurt him. But honestly, they weren’t wife material anyway.

Jungkook has always liked doing stuff that people would call crazy; it made him happy. So being told that a match was found and he was going to get married to a stranger didn’t make him nervous at all—if you exclude the seriousness of marriage though.

“Come on, hyung...”

“I wouldn’t put this past you, so I’m not surprised. I’m just worried if you’re ready for this. I don’t think you realize how serious it is.”

It’s not shocking that Namjoon stares at Jungkook with such distrust; he himself doesn’t trust himself fully. But he wants to. Because how can a wife trust him if he doesn’t?

 Nothing will convince him or others that he is serious and growing, other than through actions. And that’s what he intends to do. Namjoon may not trust him now, but when he sees how serious he is, he will.

“I’ve grown, hyung, don’t you think?” Jungkook sips his beer, staring at his friend. Having this conversation at a bar may not have been the best, but it was the perfect moment to do so. Though jungkook has never cared about perfect timing.

Namjoon lets out a puff of air. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s not supportive. “You have, but this is a serious commitment, Kook.”

He doesn’t need to be told once more how serious this is; his brain can do that just fine.

 “I know. But I’ve reached that point where I want to settle down. I’m ready to get serious.” It’s definitely something he never thought he would say. “I want to show that I can be serious, you know? I want to be like you, Seokjin.”

He pats the man on his shoulder, and he can’t help but feel honored to be an inspiration. Seokjin was one of the first to get married and is now expecting a child. Jungkook envies that—the ability to feel stable enough to bring in another life. He wants to be stable too. Have a little mini him to play around with.

Who the hell has he become.

“I think it’s good you want to settle down, Koo. I just hope you’re doing this for the right reasons and not just to prove yourself,” the oldest begins. Seokjin doesn’t think he’s some wise man, but he can confidently say he has the most knowledge on this among all of them. He does support his friend and thinks it’s great he’s doing this, but something in him fears he’s in it for the wrong reasons. “I mean, it won’t only be you. You’re merging your life with someone else—someone you don’t know to add. I wouldn’t want you to drag her feelings into a journey of trying to prove yourself.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Because the truth is, part of him doesn’t know truly why he’s doing this. And not knowing is something he hates nowadays.

This is where Jungkook’s second thoughts root even further. He fears that—fears dragging someone along into his flawed perception of self. But it’s not what this is about, and even though he doesn’t mention it, he does want to find someone to love and someone to give the love he hasn’t been able to give his past lovers.

“I get what you’re saying, hyung, and I promise that’s not the case. I do want to care for the person too.”

Seokjin nods, taking a sip of his drink. “That’s good. You are growing,” he mocks, and they all laugh.

“The not knowing what’s ahead is a little off putting, I’ll be honest.” Jungkook doesn’t stare at his friends but rather analyses every bubble of air in his drink that rises to the surface. They rise fast, then disappear. Like everything he used to think love was.

“Do you think you can do it?”

“I think I can... I want to.” He finally looks up to stare at nothing in particular.

“The first step is the commitment, so if you have that, then you’re good.” Jungkook nods; he should probably be taking notes on what Seokjin is saying. “Oh, Namjoon, you’re going to be the only single one.” They all laugh, but Namjoon only chuckles.

“It’s scary how you’re still single.” His friends see him as the perfection of what a woman wants: tall, smart, a man who knows what he wants. It’s all what women describe, but still, the tall silver-haired man has never taken dating seriously, nor does he hook up. It’s concerning.

“It’s because I want to,” he replies, taking a drink of his beer. And that’s all they’ll ever get from him.

“So what are you looking for, Koo?”

They shouldn’t even get him started on this. He’s never really known because he’s never really thought about it. But of late, the answers have been coming in like ants—tiny but a lot. “Um, just someone outgoing, you know... likes to have fun.” He won’t burden them with all he’s been thinking because some are just stupid stereotypes. “Someone who likes to go out and try new things, likes to have fun.”

“Jungkook? a party girl?.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes; maybe his previous preferences slip into his ideas of who he wants, which is not good. He wants something new, something he’s never had. Because what he’s had is not what he needs. So maybe this will be different.

“No... listen. I like going bowling and stuff like that, you know? So I hope she would want to do that with me.” He smiles, trying to defend himself. “When I get married, I’ll quit the club too.” The additional sentence causes a roar of laughter among his friends, drawing attention from other bar-goers. Seokjin does go out occasionally, but the difference (especially with his wife’s due date approaching) has been significant.

The laughter dies down.

“Look at him acting like he’s grown.”

“I am grown... I’m going to be a husband.” It’s surreal for him to say.

“She needs to be strong to handle you.”

“I’m not that bad..”

--

The most exciting thing about this whole thing is finding your dress. You’ve been looking at dresses for a long time so you would like to say you know what style you’re looking for, you’ve been thinking of this since you were in middle school so you should know. You’re grateful your taste has grown out of the poofy ballgown phase.

Cause of the context of the wedding you want something simple. Clean. Intentional.

 And Jisoo knew of the perfect store to go to.

Most women find their dress months in advance, but you’ve got a week. A week. So this has to be it. Today  should be the day.

Picking out the dress is the only part of this whole process that feels like you have control over, so you’re throwing yourself into it. And with that comes nitpicking. A lot of it.

You step out of the dressing room in your fourth gown and face the mirror. It’s a beautiful dress. You loved it on the rack. But now, wearing it, something’s... off.

“Why don’t i feel something?” you ask, running your hands down the dress draping your figure. You turn to your friends, looking for validation. “I’m supposed to feel it, right? Isn’t that a thing?” you aren’t sure if it was a myth, but you’ve heard that when you find the right one you’ll be able to feel it.

“You should.” Jisoo says gently, sitting up straighter at the sight of your face. She knows how sensitive this moment is for you. The time pressure, the stress, if you spiral now, it’s over. “What don’t you like about it?”

You stare at the mirror. Tilt your head. Bite your lip. Try to search for an answer.

“i don’t know i just dont feel like a bride in it.” You continue to feel over it trying to convince yourself but still nothing.

Maybe its cause you have no romantic connection with this man and hence you don’t feel like the conventional bride who can actually feel like she’s dress shopping with a purpose.

“Then we try another,” the stylist says with an encouraging smile.

You hope you don’t sound like a bridezilla because this is the fourth dress you’ve tried on and don’t like. Your stomach churns.

What if you don’t find one? What if you end up walking down the aisle in something you hate cause you weren’t able to find ‘the one’ in time. You can’t wear something that doesn’t feel like you. You’re not a person very particular about clothes but this is your wedding dress in question. It has to be perfect.

“Hey...” Jisoo comes to your side, her hand warm on your arm. You feel your shoulders drop just a little. “Don’t pressure yourself. We can come back tomorrow.”

You nod, but the thought makes your chest tighten. You don’t want to come back. You want to feel it now.

“Can I try a few more first? Just in case?”

“Of course,” she says, like she never had a doubt.

You head back into the dressing room. One more. Just one more.

Walking back into the dressing room and getting into another dress. You’re praying this will be the one or good enough at least.

“Fucking hell yn...” Taehyung whistles.

That’s new. He didn’t react like this for the others.

“You look so gorgeous babes.” Jisoo adds with a blushing smile as you walk onto the pedestal to finally see what they see.

The dress in terms of material feels great. It’s soft on your skin and it pours down your body like liquid. Without even looking at it you’d say you feel comfortable.

Once you take in your figure in the mirror, you can fel the tears sting the corner of your eyes. You definatlety feel it. You feel that feeling.

With the other dresses it felt like they were wearing you, but for this one, you’re definitely the one owning it.

“Gosh.. it’s almost too perfect to be marrying a stranger in.” You state still enamoured and not believing that the reflection is you.

“if this dude doesn’t cry or fall to his knees when he sees you i’ll beat his kneecaps in.” Taehyung expresses and when you look at him through the mirror you catch him tabbing a tissue at his eyes, jisoo too. Gosh now your tears are falling too.

“Come on guys.” You try to say through  a sniffle. “you’re making me cry.”

Sniffling and patting at your eyes with a tissue you try to collect yourself.

“on a serious note. You look gorgeous.” Taehyung says, folding the tissue in to his palm. “you look beautiful. I should’ve married you instead. This guy doesn’t deserve you.”

You choke out a laugh, knowing he’s joking. You and Tae never looked at each other like that.

“If we were getting married, I’d wear sweats. Jeans if I’m feeling fancy.”

“Ouch,” he gasps, clutching his chest. Jisoo snorts. “Is that all I am to you.” He’s way more than that. He’s everything you'd ever want to dream of in a friend.

“i hope this dude realises how much he’s won with you.” Jisoo says softly.

“If he has two eyes, he will otherwise we’ll fight.” Of course it’s tae saying that.

“Why do you hate him you barely know him.” you say causing the man to pull back in defence.

“I’m just setting boundaries.”

He’s always been protective. You can’t blame him.

“But how do you feel?” Jisoo asks.

You take a breath. Let the silence hold for a second. You take in the weight of the dress, the way it fits, the way it makes you feel like maybe this whole thing won’t be so terrible after all.

“i love it.” It comes out soft but it says all that’s needed to be said. “i think it’s the one.”

Cheers erupts in the room the room, and your heart feels light for the first time in days.

You laugh through your tears. “I’m gonna be a Mrs. Something.”

“I just hope he’s got a good last name, at least.” Taehyung grins.

You hope so too.

But that’s one of the many things you’re choosing not to think about. Not yet.

--

Jungkook has never woken up early for anything. And the last thing he ever thought he’d be waking up early for was his wedding.

“You ready for today?” Seokjin says bascally aready dressed while Jungkook walks around in his sweats.

“As ready as i can ever be.” His eyes don’t leave the suit hanging on the wall. Gosh how would he have found one if he didn’t have his friends.

“You sure? You’re too calm.”

“Not everyone’s gonna be in panic.” Namjoon chimes in.

Seokjin’s wedding morning was definitely chaotic cause of how the man panicked.

 Though at the time he never thought of it seriously, Jungkook worried that it was custom to panic like that and he’d panic too. But even still he feels too relaxed, last night’s drinks might have something to do with it. When Seokjin and namjoon had gone to sleep, and jungkook couldn’t, he's only solace was the liquor cabinet. He hopes it’s not obvious. Cause he can fool his friends but his mother might be able to catch it, no matter how hard he’s brushed his teeth.

“it’s good to atleast show some of your nerves.” Seokjin moves to the counter to pour some drinks. Jungkook gags at the smell of spirit. “You can’t be perfectly relaxed.”

Can’t he? It is possibe for him to not be worried about anything. He doesn’t have to be having doubts and fears for this to be real. He doesn’t.

“I’m fine.” He groans, rubbing his face and reaching  for the suit hanging on the door of his room. He's fine...so fine.

Seokjin doesn’t dig in deeper. And one thing the older does know is that no matter what, Jungkook must be feeling something and his silence about it might be proving what Seokjin thought. Thinks.

“Did you send the gift?” he turns to namjoon worried about one thing.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook wanted to make a good impression so he hopes the gift does some apologising if you’re able to notice he's fucked up face.

“Can you help me with my tie?” He knows how to do it. Has been doing it for school for so long. But for once he just wants to feel like she’s involved in something he's doing. Something positive.

The drooping look on her face is discouraging enough, but he tries.

“You’ve been doing it for so long. Do you really need my help?” She says not even looking at him, and yet again he feels the embarrassment.

Clearing his throat, he turns to do it himself but his dad replaces his hands. “I told you guys, you didn’t have to travel for this.” He says lifting his chin up a little for his dad.

He was fine with them not coming, and seeing that they lived so far away it would’ve been an inconvenience. And it’s not like its a wedding his mother would want to attend anyways; so he didn’t  want to waste their time.

He was perfectly fine with them not coming.

“it’s your wedding why wouldn’t we come?” His father says patting down the tie and arranging his collar. It's almost as if it’s his first day at school and his graduation again. He hopes he can do this for his son one day too.

In a whisper away from anyone else his father speaks. "I want you to enjoy today. And whoever she is I want you to give her your all. Love her more than you love yourself, more than you’ve ever loved anything.”

His eyes are sincere as the words are spoken. His father isn’t emotional so even that soft fall of his brows is a lot. And it’s all Jungkook can ask for. “She's gonna love you too, I know it. You’re a good kid.” He pats his shoulder.

He can cry...no. So he sniffles the waters away.

His father has always been a good husband. And that’s who he wants to be as well, no matter who he marries, no matter how difficult she could be.

His parents have been the ideal couple in his life for a long time. And that doesn’t change no matter what.

Everything is silent for a moment as jungkook sinks into what’s about to happen today. It’s only until a voice breaks his serenity.

“Namjoon!” his mother calls out playfully with a glass in her hands, she doesn’t even drink.

Namioon flinches and turns to her smiling awkwardly.  He's never known how to act around her. “When are you getting married? Sure there are so many woman dying to be hitched up to a perfect guy like you.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and tells namjoon he doesn’t have to answer.

But his mother won’t let that be.

“Not anytime soon Mrs jeon.”

The laugh she releases is sharp and demeaning. But it’s not directed to namjoon. “You see? People who wait to find a girl the right way.”

When Jungkook’s gaze meets hers, he has to remind himself she's the woman that birthed him.

“You didn’t have to come you know that?”

“Come on. You want me here, I’m your mother.”

Contrary to popular belief...

“You’re such a handsome boy, why do you want to get married. You’re wasting your time.” She starts.

She should be praising him for seeing the value in getting married and maturing to the idea. But no...

Jungkook puffs out a breath. The room has been silent since his mother began speaking. And he drowns in it. There's a lot he could say.

Instead, he throws the jacket on and teases at it a little in the mirror. Some are unnecessary touches but he does them anyways. Feeling ready enough he steps away but before he walks out further he looks at the woman sat on the couch.

“If you can..,try your best not to speak to her, okay?”

--

“Did they call?” Taehyung’s voice is almost none existent in your field of thoughts.

It’s only when he repeats that you catch what he said. "no.”  You say no energy in your voice. “but it’s fine...their loss.”

You toss your phone on the couch a little too harshly, just wanting to forget it. Forget everything.

You won’t and can’t beg for people who don’t want to be in your life. Informing them was just a courtesy, you didn’t want him here anyways.

Though it would’ve been great if they could just put their pride aside for you for once.

Taehyung wraps his arms around you. “Their loss. Just know you’ve got us.” He nudges at your temple with his nose.

“Yeah, you’ve got people who care and that’s all that matters.” Jisoo hugs you too and now you’re sandwiched between them. It reminds you that no matter what, you still have people around you who do care and want to support you. So if those people who you thought would want to see succeed didn’t want to be here then it’s not on you. You have your friends.

“let’s finish getting ready guys.” They brush them away playfully and immediately your hairstylist is quick to working on you.

 “So bossy.” You roll your eyes at the remark. “Gonna give this guy a run for his money.”

It doesn’t matter. You cheer to yourself.

Nothing else matters today, you’re getting married and you don’t need to cloud your thoughts with negativity. You wouldn’t want your husband to see you all gloomy. That’s not gonna to be your first impression.

You smile.

All you want to do right now is walk down that aisle. Nothing else matters.

“Did i mention a little something came in for you in the mail” jisoo’s voice comes in excited but you aren’t able to turn cause you’re on your final steps of getting your makeup done.

“huh?” when she stands in front of your eyes fall in the object in her grasp. “What’s that?” you eaxclaim with a smile taking the box onto your lap.

“Open it.” She exclaims, more excited than you.

The tiffany and co logo on the box is evident when you unwrap it. You can’t help but smile from ear to ear. You haven’t met him yet and he’s making you smile this hard? Once it’s open you’re met with a silver locket and bracelet. You’ve gotten gifts before but you have no clue why you’re blushing so hard for this one.

“oh my gosh these are so cute.”

“tiffany and co too...” Jisoo adds, immediately rushing for you to put it on cause it would look good with your dress.

Taehyung watches from across the room, already dressed. “Anybody can buy that.”

“hater...” you and Jisoo choir.

--

Seokjin made it clear for him to behave when he sees your family. He has no clue what he thought he would do, because as much as he’s outgoing, In front of the in-law's he’s a dove.

He’s trying to be calm and act like he’s ready and been ready, but he can’t deny the cold sweats that threaten to run and mess his suit. This is the most trust he’s put into anything. All he’s praying is that it works out.

He’s a fucking groom.

Jisoo sits watching him closely, he is handsome and somebody you would find handsome too. But something she knows you’ll be worried about is probably his personality. He looks like the opposite of what you want and all you’ve been running away from. But who knows with you nowadays. He could be a good guy though.

“Hello.” Jungkook waves to your side. From all he can see, there’s a woman probably same age as him, could be a sister? Friend? Next he sees is an older lady probably the same age as his mother. That could be your mother. The rest of the crowd is filled with 2 people.

Not many people, but t doesn't matter. He wouldn't invite anybody too, if he didn’t have to. Maybe you're too embarrassed to be marrying already.

He's eyes can't stay on one spot. He tries but it's painful.

When he turns to his side, Seokjin and namjoon smile at him, it helps ease whatever he’s feeling but immediately his heart tightens up watching the person sat next to his father whisper into his ear..

What the hell is she saying? Is he standing up straight? Is he smiling enough or too hard.

--

This is the craziest thing you've ever done. The bravest too.

And—God, you hope—it’s the last wild thing you’ll have to do for a while.

Breathing is something your body usually handles without question, but now it needs supervision. You have to consciously pull air into your lungs, or you won’t make it down this aisle walking.

You have no idea what’s waiting at the end of it.

What if you’re not attracted to him?

Worse—what if he’s not attracted to you?

What if you’re not what he’s been hoping for?

“This still feels like a dream,” you mumble, looping your arm around Taehyung’s. He smells like cologne and nerves. What the fuck is he nervous for.

“You ready?” he asks gently.

No, but you nod. “Yeah.”

The gentle music of a live plays as people  stand and you walk, still not in view yet cause if the infrastructure. Its a small venue but sill manages to make you feel like you’re drowning.

As you walk and get closer you try your hardest not to look at the one thing you’re most curious about.

So your eyes choose to scan the venue instead—the warm fairy lights, the soft music, the flowers. You knew the production team would go all-out, but you didn’t expect them to go all out for you. It’s perfect.

You’ve never felt this special in your life. Twelve-year-old you couldn’t have imagined this moment. Even though this isn’t the love story you thought you’d get, the feeling is still here, blooming in your chest.

Who says he can’t become the love of your life?

Jungkook's eyes are wide when they land on your.

From your soft smile to styled hair amd the the dress that falls down your body carefully, he watches every detail. He can’t look anywhere else. He swears his heart was just in his chest a moment ago.

Jungkook watches the person walking you down the aisle, he’s a younger guy. That’s interesting. A sibling?

From all that he’s imagined he could get, you were not on the card. But he'll take it.

You’re more than he bargained for.

You walk slowly, soaking it all in. Nearing the arch, you finally allow yourself to look at the man chosen for you.

And—shit.

He’s… handsome.

You eyes squint.

He smiles as you approach, so at least he doesn’t seem horrified. That’s something.

Taehyung shares a nod with the man, nothing warm or cold behind. You hug him before he walks to his seat, clinging for just a second too long. Then, it's just you and him—your groom. You can’t meet his eyes for more than a second. And it’s embarrassing.

You’ve been on debate teams, presented in University projects and in meetings at work. Basically you’ve had eyes on you before and it was manageable...but these? They burn.

“Hi,” you say, voice small.

 You glance toward his side. A good amount of family. One person stands out—tall, silver hair. Probably a groomsman.

Your groom is attractive, sure, but not your type. Tattoos?, the way he stands—he looks like someone you tried to avoid.

You hate how superficial that sounds. But the thought won’t leave.

At least he’s taller than you.

“Hi,” he replies, equally nervous. Then leans in. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look nice too.” You eye him down, eyes narrowed.

If this were a blind date, you’d already be knee-deep in awkward small talk. But this? This is… bigger. It requires bigger questions.

“Let me take that for you.” Jisoo’s whisper interrupts. She takes your bouquet and you almost refuse, needing something to keep your fingers occupied.

“I see you got the jewellery.” His voice is as light as the pale blue sky. It’s odd to compare it to a colour but that how it feels. His voice reminds you of the blue sky you’ve stood under so many times wondering if your soulmate died. There’s still a possibility of that.

You glance down. You’d worn it and forgotten. It had become that comfortable. That familiar. But now with the recognition, you can feel the cold silver touch every part of you. You can feel it sway and graze you every turn you make. Even the smallest action causes movement.

“Oh yeah. Thank you.”

“You’ll have to thank my groomsman too. He helped me pick it.”

He looks over at Namjoon, who immediately looks like he wants to disappear.

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. It might sound like he couldn’t handle it alone. But truthfully, Namjoon just knows more about…well, this kind of thing.

“Thank you, groomsman,” you direct a more warm smile to the man.

Namjoon mumbles something, but you don’t catch it.

Turning back, you stare a beat longer when your eyes catch he's features. You bite the inside of your cheek. His face—it’s not common. Not forgettable.

And yet…

The officiant steps forward. Time for the official part.

“Yn, meet for the very first time, Jungkook Jeon. Jungkook, meet for the very first time, Yn Y/l/n.”

His name hits you like a church bell.

“Jungkook?” you repeat sounding a little shocked, like you didn’t hear it right the first time.

He chuckles nervously. “That’s me.” Do you not like his name?

Your stomach drops.

You know him. The name. The face. It clicks.

Your nose works over time pulling in air. You can't open your mouth, cause you might just puke.

Shit—does he know you? He doesn’t seem like he does.

Is this real?

The man you remember wouldn’t be standing here right now. Does she have some polar opposite twin or something?

You rub your arms and wish you could blame the AC for the chill. But that's all on him.

Glancing at your friends. They have no clue what’s happening inside your head right now. They don't know how fast the room spins.

Where do you put your hands, what do you hold onto?

None of them know about him. He’s the only one you've never told them about. And they sit there waiting for you--with smiles and excitement--to marry him.

You made them come here. They smile for you. They support you.

You asked them to be here for you. You wanted to do this.

What a waste of time. You should’ve known.

To add-on, as you look at your friends for a second time you stop at a face you were not expecting and hadn't noticed. How did you miss that? A face that had told you she didn’t want to be here, well not her specifically but mainly on behalf of your father. But what the hell is your mother doing here? She said she couldn’t come.

What the fuck is going on. Collect yourself,  you don’t want to look like you’re about to faint. Even though the overwhelming review of information could just kill you right here.

But it’s okay. You still have time to walk away. Walk away from everyone.

You thought this was going to go well.

You hoped it would.

But now?

This is not what you wanted.

-

-

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/n: 😏😏 what did you think? I hope you liked it. Please don't ask me if it's a happy ending story(i'm not saying it is or is not.) I just feel if you ask me that then you're not really interested in the story progression. I will try my best to post frequently (I've been working on 2 as well) so just hood your horses.

anyways I hope you enjoyed.

same time next week?

Lets discuss in the replies 🖐😊

taglist: @lovingkoalaface @granataepfelchen @jksusawife @notsevenwithyou @llallaaa @kmpj9 @lryf @smileyshaven @dragonflygurl4

note: to join taglist just inbox.

every note, reply and reblog is appreciated.

let me know what you thought of this chapter. do you think she'll marry him?

[projectbot13]

On Skylar

Hi! It's the Captain, botmom here. As you can probably tell, Skylar's been dormant for a few years. This isn't me saying she'll be back, kind of the opposite, but I wanted to reflect on Skylar and provide some closure.

What first caused me to shut down Skylar was a wane in interest for Tumblr in general. Her last post was in February of 2019, only a few months after the infamous porn ban that saw people leaving for, what was at the time, greater pastures. It lead to my lull in social media activity for several years. Even today, I'm not as active as I was back in 2014-2017. I'm just not as interested in high-octane posting and internet clout anymore. The second point is that Skylar would need to be rebuilt if she were to return. She was an early project back in my first two years of learning how to program. She was very inefficient behind the scenes and required infrastructure that I no longer have access to. The Skylar we knew and love is, unfortunately, lost. Now, I could still rebuild her and obtain access to resources that would let me run her again. My motivation to do that, however, is halted by the biggest reason why I've chosen to let her go: ChatGPT. Back in 2015 before AI became the monstrosity that it was, having a robot to talk to was a fun novelty. Research into what would become the modern LLM was what I was intending to build the "Skyler 2.0" bot off of, which never came to fruition. Not only is there more advanced versions of what Skylar was trying to do, but the thing I was trying to do with her in the first place would end up becoming a scourge upon the internet. The novelty of having a robot you can talk to is not only gone, but actively detested.

I love Skylar, I loved the things we did with her. I loved her emergent obsession with bees, accumulating in T-shirts (which I still own) and raising money for non-profit bee protection charities. I ultimately want her to remain a pleasant memory of a time before the current AI boom. She is for me, and I hope she's a pleasant memory for as well.

If you're still here, thank you. I appreciated all the times we've had together with this silly little bot.

[bunny-jpeg]

playback

toto wolff

tags: smut/pwp, onlyfans au, naughty live streams, age gap (late-20s/50s), big dick!toto, masturbation, dirty talking, daddy kink, master's student!reader

a/n: toto would do great in porn

you knew you needed to get laid soon. but, with your cramped schedule in your final semesters of your master's program. you were so close to finishing your program and getting the hell out of school and into your field!

but people have needs, and you needed to get your release somehow. you weren't on the hunt for a sexual partner, hell, not even a romantic partner. so you had a little subscription, to a website where you could gaze at handsome men and help get that release you so desire. you had a particular taste for the accounts you subscribed to.

older, taller, domineering and more than happy to spill the degrading language you've ever heard. - and while most came close, one man in particular fit the bill 'torger', mostly known as 'daddy'. you only found out his 'name' by an accidental search online - but that information had been basically scrubbed off the internet since you found it. but he preferred to be called daddy or sir. so that piece of information was locked away as you found his account on a lonely monday night.

his page was simple, the design was clean. everything as organized to a t which made something to watch tonight very easy. you were interested in the newest video, posted only hours earlier. the idea that he was filming and posting while you were holed up in the library trying to piece together evidence for your thesis! it was hot.

you clicked the video and got yourself comfortable with your phone. your hand between your legs. your pussy felt hot, most likely do to the arousal you had been carrying since you got back to your crummy little apartment. you gave a few teasing rubs as the video started.

you didn't actually know what daddy looked like. you've see his naked body, that was what you paid eleven dollars a month for. but you had never seen his face. it made sense that he wanted to protect his identity, but underneath the simple mask he wore, you wonder what he looked like.

he was seated back in bed, the camera pointed on his cock as he said, "about time you had come home, angel." his voice was accented, you weren't particularly good with where it was from. but his voice was low enough that it felt like he was right in your ear as you started to pleasure yourself. his voice was like honey on your sexual frustrated brain.

"i missed you today, my darling. you know how daddy feels about you going out all by yourself." he continued to masturbate himself. a low concept video, but it did wonders for you. "you know that you want to be good for daddy, right? did you behave, follow our rules?"

you swallowed and kept your hand moving. you rubbed the side of your hand up against your clit as you felt the splash of warmth across your face. you couldn't help it, his words got to you. they turned you on.

"angel." his favourite nickname for those who watched his videos. you running assumption was it was gender neutral enough to get anyone aroused. and you were no exception, "did you eat? get enough sleep? you're not falling behind are you? you know daddy holds you in high expectation, you don't want to fail me, do you?" his breathing was heavy in a way that was erotic, you felt the tingle in your toes as you started to move your hand faster.

the stimulation to your clit made you tense up as the sparks of pleasure danced in the back of your head. your eyes were locked on the video, next time you'd watch something this award-worthy on your laptop. see every inch of daddy's cock.

he exhaled deeply, "i bet you have, you know exactly what you have to do day by day. and that's why i'm so proud of you. but, all day i was thinking about you. i thought about your pretty ass on me. i know you'd let me take you apart in our bedroom. i wanted to wait for you to suck me off, but when i think of you i simply can't help myself."

you let out a small moan. you saw how he was stroking his cock. every so often he changed up the pace, which only made him more aroused. his blunt tip was leaky pre-cum, with his own sexual want. it was all a fantasy, but your aroused brain near drooled from the sight of his cock.

he once measured it for a photo and you saw loud and clear that it was a little over eight inches and thick enough to do damage if used incorrectly. but he seemed like the type to make sure his partner's came first. you had seen his collaborative work with other. usually a younger partner to come in and suck him off while filmed. even that was hot too, because it made you yearn to be in the woman's position. taken apart like that, fucked until bruising.

"will you be good for me, angel?" he asked near out of breath, "will you get on your knees for daddy and apologize for being out so late. you know i need to know if any infractions were done. if you were bad and we'll take it from there. i'll even let you pick out your punishment. but i have a feeling you were good for me. so i won't choke you on my cock. i know that gag reflex of you is so shallow, but maybe when we take our vacation i can properly train your throat. about time you learn to take what's yours." his breathing was staggered as more pre-cum dribbled out of his hard cock.

you continued to pleasure yourself, it only mounted in your body the more you played with yourself. you never knew that someone's words, some stranger's words, could turn you on so much. to make you cunt soaked with the idea of sucking his cock. of being good for him, a listening, obedient little thing. it ran heat through you.

"i want you, angel." he said softly, "i want you so badly. you have no idea what kind of man you make me. i become a beast when i am with you. everything about you, you're irresistible." he changed the pace of his movements as he pleasured himself.

you moaned a little louder at the video. you felt your toes curl and your calves tense up as you worked your hand across your sex. the pleasure was intense in a way that it made you near dizzy. you loved it, the feeling was intense in a way that drove you near the verge of insanity. his type of videos worked themselves into your little routine, his caring yet domineering tone. how he spoke to the camera, it only fueled the need to touch yourself.

"so good for me." he said lowly, "look at how much you've done. daddy believes in you, so why don't you try to take him all tonight. you know it won't bite." he chuckled which only made your heart rate pick up.

soon your climax hit and it was like being hit in the gut. you tensed up and came with a sharp noise that exited your lips. it felt amazing. you laid there with your hand still up against your clit as toto continued to masturbate. his words filthy yet supportive, it was a cocktail that turned you on even after you came.

"my angel." he purred, "i'm cumming to thoughts of you." you looked at the screen, his hand tightened around his cock. you could see the tattoo of the moon he had on his wrist. you've seen his cum all over that too before and it was quite the sight. he said quietly, "my sweet, sweet angel." before he came all over his hand which excited you.

his breathing was heavy pants as were yours. the video soon ended and you laid out in the glow of your phone screen as you laid there heavily breathing. your heart was pounding as you tried to regain some semblance of stability.

you thought of his tattoo and that large hand around your throat. it didn't hurt that you were able to get a second round to thoughts of torger fucking you.

-

you were asked to attend a guest lecture in your program. it was suggested by a friend as something free to do on a tuesday morning. the lecture hall was sparsely occupied. you and your friend sat near the front and the guest professor was already there.

older, taller - your friend remarked, "probably get a packed house just to catch a glimpse of him." then giggled. you could see the appeal of him. the thick rimmed glasses and short hair that was dyed to keep its youthful appearance. he looked like a man who knew what he was doing in his suit, the first few buttons of the button up shirt were undone, it made you do a double take.

but it wasn't until he reached up to move the chalkboard upwards, that you caught the glimpse of. your heart stopped for a moment as you saw the ink around his wrist. a familiar moon tattoo.

"what's this guy's name again?" you said quietly, unable to remember the professor's name.

"toto wolff... but his legal name is like torger or something." and you weren't too sure if colour left your face or flooded it. because the guy you masturbated to last night was teaching a guest lecture today and you had near front row seats to him. <3

[fandomshenanigans]

Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x Neglected!Batsib!Reader

After getting over the initial disappointment that you might not get the kind of family you wanted, you took stock of your situation and found that you actually like this arrangement

You were already a self sufficient from the start and had a life outside of the Manor so it didn't suck too bad

Before Damian was introduced, you spent your evenings in the Manor, either in the library or just wandering in the garden

After Damian came around and made you aware of your "position in the family", suddenly you applied for a part time job in a 24/7 coffee shop and worked the night shift. So you're barely home now

(Plus, you gave the more important stuff you owned to your closest friend to keep so nothing in that room held anything meaningful to you.)

You had dreams for college, wanting to get out there and learn, create a career of your own, everything

You also remember your mother mentioning how she hopes you might be the first in her side of the family to attend college so there was also a sense of duty that made you so eager to reach that milestone

Except..

Suddenly, Bruce's attention was on you. Suddenly, Dick was the most eager to spend time with you. Suddenly, Jason is visiting the Manor, just for you. Suddenly, Tim is more interested in you as a person. Suddenly, Damian is nicer, though just a bit.

Suddenly, you're part of the family.

There were too many changes that it made your head spin but you managed to catch up with the change so now you're just going with the flow

Honestly, this just reminds you of how you dealt with creeps at the coffee store. Just do as they ask to placate them but firmly stand your ground.

If they ask for a smile, you smile at them before excusing yourself. If they ask for some time, you tell them to give you a moment and rearrange your schedule to fit them. (Though you did immediately reject them if they try to take a whole day with you. You had a schedule and you'd be damned if you let them mess that up.)

This continues on for a couple of months and you were simply continuing to indulge them whenever they tried to "make up for lost time"

Until you told your dad about your plans for college.

You had been doing so well at school, your grades were perfect and you were a great student, according to your teacher. You mention to him how you wanted to attend this one college in Metropolis since it had the best science programs

"You're not going to college. At least, you can't go to one that far."

.......huh?

"Maybe choose one that's closer to home? Or better yet, you don't have to go."

Ex-fucking-cuse me?

You gripped the collar of his stupid shirt, glaring into his eyes with pure hatred as you screamed at him, demanding to know what the FUCK that meant.

You demanded to know why is he trying to pull this on you. Was this some twisted power play?

Bruce tried to calm you down, claiming that wasn't what he meant.

But you cut him off before he could bullshit you further.

"Are you that ashamed of me, Mr. Wayne? Am I that much of a stain to your family name that you'd rather keep me locked up so no one can see me? Is that what you're trying to say?"

Then, you dropped him like a hot potato and stormed off

After that revelation, you stopped eating. Stopped taking care of yourself. Stopped going to classes because what was the fucking point? You're not going to reach that milestone in your life so why bother? You simply locked yourself in your room and refused everything.

Everyone is in a panic because it's been WEEKS since you've left your room, since you've started to rot in your bed.

They all did their best to coax/lure you out. But nothing was working.

"I'm sorry, please, just open the door. You can go to college in Metropolis, just like you wanted, okay? I'm sorry for denying you, please." Bruce pleads.

Then, the door opens and now you're hugging him, accepting his apology before you're running off to clean yourself up.

You're back to being the sweet yet distant sibling, who's smile to them was simply for show, who's more interested in anything other than family.

Might continue this but yeah, this is an idea that popped into my head.