#who never felt like she fit in whose idols growing up were all white with generational wealth

[beezyland]

When I can’t sleep and my brain is like if we write one more glass onion fic then we can get this outta our system for good that’s the scientific method baby

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

Arranged Chapter Ten

Description: Y/N is a struggling student in Seoul: working multiple jobs, living in a broom closet apartment, and often sacrificing her dignity for the sake of her livelihood. What happens when a handsome stranger presents her with an offer she cannot refuse at the moment she needs it most?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x (f) Reader

Word Count: 6,748

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Chaebol!Au, Company!Au, Arranged Marriage!Au

Warnings: Coarse language, although not frequently

A/N: Gosh hello! Thank you guys for being so sweet and engaged with the last chapter! I’m so excited to give you guys this one. Doesn’t it feel like I just posted Chapter Nine? Feels that way to me lmao. Anyway, this chapter was fun to write and I think you guys will like it. Thank you for the overwhelming support you guys have been giving me and this story. It truly makes it worthwhile for me! Of course, please send me anything you want! I love to talk to you guys and it brings a lot of joy to my life to hear your thoughts, so please share them! I’ll respond to all messages within a day of receiving them. I may be on a little later than usual today, since I have some work obligations, but I’ll be checking here frequently! As always, if you have feedback, critique, comments, questions, or really anything don’t hesitate to send them in. Hope you enjoy!

(PS can we PLEASE talk about Yoongi on that ropes course??? He’s so charming I’m emo??? And the sAnDBaG I’m CRYING)

–Mercury

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen (END)

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“And for you, Miss?”

I stared out the window, as I had been doing for the past thirty minutes, and watched the birds frolic in the midmorning sky, a bright dome of cerulean punctured only by thin wispy clouds. I watched stray leaves flit through they air as they were carried by the lazy summer breeze. The world outside was turning, thriving, just as usual.

So why couldn’t I?

“Y/N.”

I jumped at my name and turned to face the waiter who was staring at me expectantly. “Uh…what?”

My father sighed and stared at me across the small pockmarked table. “He asked what you wanted.”

I stared up at the waiter, probably a teen, whose eyes were concerned and slightly nervous as they settled on me. “Um…I’ll have…uh…,” I stared, then scanned the menu.

Again, my father sighed. “She’ll have a turkey pesto panini.”

Surprised, I glanced up to see my father folding his menu and grabbing for mine, handing both to the grateful waiter. Who did he think he was? I furrowed my brow. “What if I don’t eat turkey?”

“You do, don’t you?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Fine. I won’t order for you again,” he said.

I shrugged and resumed staring out the window. “If there is ‘again’,” I murmured.

“Is there something on your mind? You seem awfully distracted,” he said.

I felt my cheeks go red and crossed my arms. Of course I’d been caught. I couldn’t have made it more obvious. I remembered the feeling of Yoongi’s fingers in my hair, his body close to mine, his lips close enough to touch. I shivered and shook my head. 

“It’s nothing. I’ll focus now,” I said after clearing my throat.

He nodded. “So…what would you like to know?”

“Everything,” I said without a moment’s pause.

The man offered a small smile. “Well…your mother and I met when I was building my company,” he said.

“And your company is…?” I hedged.

“Ah, my apologies. It’s called Skyline and we specialize in IT innovations. Think…hm…Microsoft but much smaller,” he said. “Or Apple, but fewer turtlenecks.”

I cracked a smile and then righted myself. I hated this man. I couldn’t be drawn in by his superficial charms. “Hm,” I said, sipping the cappuccino I’d ordered in my daze.

He nodded. “Well, I was struggling when we met, but as we started seeing each other I began to rise through the ranks. I was getting investors. Big names were seeing potential in my company,” he said with a laugh. “Sometimes I miss those days.”

Do you miss Mom too? my brain quipped. I resisted the urge to speak my abrasive thoughts and settled instead for a terse nod. “I see.”

He cleared his throat. “Um, so I was in a very delicate spot, you see. If I made a wrong move, I could have lost everything. The backers were there, but they wouldn’t be sold until I proved my worth in the form of revenue. And in that department, I was lacking. I had no trials, no consumer base, no way to network myself. So my investors were starting to put the pressure on.”

“And Mom…?” I encouraged.

He nodded. “She supported me unfailingly. She continued to insist that I could do it. Without her, I don’t think I’d be where I am right now,” he said with a real smile. It took me off guard.

“Me either,” I said, then cursed myself for joking with him.

My father chuckled. “Well, the investors started to wonder about me, wonder if I was as serious as I claimed to be about the business. Of course, I was. But they didn’t particularly…love the idea of me being romantically involved with someone while I was working on building the company. At first I emphatically resisted, but after a while…,” he said, sighing into his Americano. The same coffee Yoongi drank. “I broke things off with your mother. We were both devastated.”

“Mm, I’m sure,” I said, one brow raised.

He met my eyes and shook his head. “I can acknowledge many ways in which I’ve disappointed you, many ways in which I was no good. But this is something I stand by. I was devastated, Y/N,” he said with a seriousness that I couldn’t explain in his face.

I blinked a few times before nodding. “Alright,” I said. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He smiled and nodded. “Well, either way things ended. And I started getting my footing in the business world. I was working with the right people, getting the right data. I rose pretty fast,” he said with a chuckle. “It was plenty of work though, mind you.”

“By fast do you mean…like…nine months fast?” I asked.

He set his lips thin and offered a curt nod. “Yes.”

“So…Mom was pregnant when you cut ties,” I said.

Again he nodded without meeting my eyes. “She was.”

“Out of wedlock.”

“Yes.”

“Meaning…your investors would have had a fit,” I said as understanding came over me.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips and he pushed his coffee away, like he had no appetite for it. “I only heard about the pregnancy after you were born. By then, I was just starting to prove myself. The investors were seeing me for the first time as someone…capable.”

Capable…

“You couldn’t risk it,” I said, mostly to myself as the pieces fell together.

He nodded slowly. “I couldn’t.”

“So you sacrificed the thing you could risk. The thing you’d only just realized was on the line.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said with upturned brows. For the first time, I could see real penance in his eyes. Like he really was regretful. “I know you needed a father. And I wasn’t there for you.”

“I didn’t,” I said with a deep breath. “I didn’t need a father. Mom was both for me. She was more than enough for me.”

“She was always like that,” he said with a laugh that felt flat in the serious atmosphere. “Always giving her best to the people around her. Makes you want to give her your best in return.”

“We agree on something then.” I sipped my drink and met his eyes over the rim of my white glass. He seemed to become softer under my gaze. 

I mentally slapped myself. Stop seeing good things in him, my brain chastised my heart.

“Well, uh, as the company began to grow — probably about a year after you were born — I started offering to pay for things for you. Your mother knew I couldn’t very well marry her. And she knew that leaving a baby alone in a dirty apartment all day so she could work would only hurt you,” he said. “She was pragmatic. She wanted to give you the best shot she could at a good life.”

My chest began to hurt. Learning this…it made me want to run to my mother’s side and hug her, to apologize as I cried in her arms for all of the ways that I’d done her wrong, tell her the truth about my marriage, about myself…

“I promised your mother that I would formally announce you as my child when you turned eighteen, since by then I knew my company would be stable enough to handle a scandal and I figured I could soften it with some excuse or other,” he said.

“But you couldn’t,” I finished.

“Because you weren’t raised knowing about that plan, I didn’t think it would be fair to swoop in and claim you. I was going to just…leave you be until I saw the articles,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “Anyway, I couldn’t visit you often. By the time you were a toddler, my company was doing extremely well. I had become a pretty large name in the country. People would talk if I showed up at an unwed mother’s house and spent days there. It would reflect poorly on the company,” he said.

I smirked. This speech felt sickeningly familiar. “God, I’m so upset with myself, but…I can understand,” I said with a scoff. “After everything, I can understand why you did it.”

“You can?”

“But not because of you,” I said with a sigh. “Because of my husband.”

“Ah…Min Yoongi,” he said, his expression turning sour.

I nodded. “If you’d have found me before I married him, I never would have listened to you. I would have heard you explain your motives and cursed in your face. But…I’ve seen what it’s like to be in the public eye. I’ve seen the toll it can take on your mental state, on your self esteem. I’ve seen how responsible you feel for the reputation of your company. One misstep and…”

“And it all crumbles,” he finished, meeting my eyes again.

I nodded. “Just like Rome.”

“Precisely.”

“Tell me one thing though,” I said as I laced my fingers beneath my chin.

He nodded. “Anything.”

“Was it lonely?”

His eyes widened and for the first time since we’d met, I could see a lifelong vulnerability in his expression. Like something closed and locked was suddenly, but only briefly, open. And like a flash it was gone with the clearing of his throat. Before I could press, our waiter had returned with our food, placing a prim plate before each of us. My father didn’t look at me again as he began to eat, and I in turn didn’t look at him, the both of us conversing without meeting eyes.

And in that small gesture I had my answer.

I sat in the park swing I’d settled upon the day Mrs. Shin told me the building would be sold, the one in the park by my old apartment in Itaewon. I’d taken the bus reasoning that I’d go for a short ride by myself to collect my thoughts before heading home. But as the bus chugged westward I couldn’t bring myself to get off and catch another one towards the new apartment, my new life. So I’d sat quietly until the bus labored to a stop beside that old building, the one where I’d spent countless quiet hours. And I’d gotten off because I hadn’t known what else to do. I sighed as I sat there now, my feet kicking little tornadoes of sand as I pushed backwards. I thought about my mom and felt a sharp stab of guilt. She should know about Jack. But how was I supposed to tell her?

I didn’t know exactly what I was feeling. It was like I was walking a fine tightrope without knowing what was on the other end. All I knew was what was behind me. I glanced around the small park, a seldom-used jungle gym glinting in the harsh sunlight, and felt an odd tug. Would I be more settled if I’d have just…stayed where I was before? If I’d never stepped tepidly onto that tightrope in the first place? Now I couldn’t turn around for risk of falling off altogether. I could only take glances behind me at the place from which I’d come.

“Hey,” said a voice from beside me.

I jumped slightly and glanced up to see Namjoon, the top of his head blotting out the yellow sun. “Oh…hey. What are you doing here?” I asked. He gestured to the side, towards the empty swing as it tilted forward and back in the breeze. I shrugged, a show of consent, and he sat down, causing the whole metal structure to groan. 

“I was on a walk.”

“In Itaewon?” I asked with a laugh. It was hard to believe anything was coincidence anymore…

He nodded. “Well…uh…Hana lives…,” he began, twiddling his thumbs.

I chuckled and held up my hand. “Say no more. I forgot she lives nearby.”

“I met her family,” he blurted, then flushed pink and stared at me with wide eyes. “Um…not that we’re dating or anything. Just…friends.”

“And how was that?” I asked.

He smiled, his dimples coming through, and shrugged. “Good. I met her little brother.”

“Hm.”

“She told me what you did for her.”

At this I turned to him, brows raised. “What did I do?”

He began to swing softly, eyes cast towards the stretch of grass between us and the street. “How you gave up your job at the store for her to keep hers. For her to provide for her brother.”

I shook my head. “Please don’t make me a saint.”

“I’m not,” he said. “All I’m saying is…you did a really good thing. A brave thing. I know how tight money is for you.”

“Was,” I said with a listless laugh. I held my wrist towards his face, exposing the pretty watch Yoongi had bought when I’d moved in with him. “I have a sponsor now.”

“Is that why you’re upset? Why you’re out here swinging in the heat by yourself in your old neighborhood?” he asked with a smirk.

I shrugged. “I’m upset about a lot of things.”

“Then tell me. Maybe I can give you some good advice,” he said.

I peeked at him and sighed, nodding. “Well…I guess I’m thinking a lot about who I’ve become lately.”

“And who’s that?”

“Someone who can understand a person who’s been neglectful, absent, hurtful, narcissistic…,” I said then trailed off. Listing my father’s bad traits didn’t make the facts change. I was beginning to understand his world.

“I’m thinking you’re not talking about Mr. Min…,” he said.

I nodded. “Someone else.”

“So this person…is bad?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m starting to wonder if anyone is really bad. For the longest time, he’s been a villain to me. Like…this dark figure in a mask who’s always in the shadows, ready to strike. But…I can understand his motives better now than I could before. And I don’t know if I’m happy to see him in a better light or lost now that my monster has become…just another human.”

He was quiet a moment, letting my words sink in, before he took a deep breath. “Everyone’s human. I think you should be glad you’re starting to see people more complexly.”

“But what does that say about me then, Namjoon?” I asked, tears pricking my eyes. “What does it say about the daughter of a woman who would rather suffer in poverty than try to understand this man? What does it say that I can understand him?”

He offered me a soft, gentle smile. “It says that you’re a good person. And you’re growing, like we all do.”

“That’s what this is? Growing pains?” I asked.

He stifled a laugh and tilted his head this way and that. “I mean, if you want to simplify it then…”

“I want to simplify it. God, I want to simplify it.”

“Then yes. It’s growing pains,” he said, laughing. I joined him and nodded. He took a deep breath and turned to me. “And listen, Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not betraying your mom by trying to understand your dad. He’s a person too. And if your mom is anything like you, I’m sure she’d respect you for thinking about this so carefully,” he said. “Life is messy, and most of the time people can’t be boiled down to just ‘good’ or ‘bad’. We’re all somewhere in the gray area between.”

I smiled at him and nodded. “I…I think I should go back home now. It was nice to talk to you, Namjoon. Thanks for listening to me,” I said. Once again, Namjoon had been remarkably astute, speaking the things my mind wouldn’t let me think through my haze of confusion and guilt. My very own living conscience…

“Of course. You’ve gotta be a little easier on yourself. You’ve been going through a lot lately,” he said with a smile. We both stood and he patted my shoulder.

Then a thought occurred to me that had me chuckling in disbelief. “Wait, how did you know I was talking about my dad though? I never mentioned it.” He laughed with me and rolled his eyes. “It’s not like it was hard to figure out. Context, Y/N.”

“Shut up, Mr. IQ 148,” I said, smiling.

He ruffled my hair. “You’d better go before you miss the bus back to Gangnam,” he said, pointing to the bus station a few hundred feet off.

I jumped as I saw the old bus come to a slow stop at the bench and before Namjoon could offer any more platitudes, I was off and running towards it, waving wildly over my shoulder at him. “Thank you!” I called.

He laughed and waved back. “No need to thank me!” he shouted after me.

“Thank you anyway!”

I arrived back at the apartment only to find it empty. I wasn’t so sure what I was expecting really. Of course, Yoongi would want space to think just as much as I did. But…was it wrong to want to figure things out together? So what if I had feelings for him? So what if he almost kissed me? Didn’t that mean something good after all? Wouldn’t he be feeling relieved that at least he didn’t hate his wife?

I sighed and fell onto the floor of the living room, leaning back against the couch. I was resolved to watch TV alone until he came back when I could finally question him. However, the dense rug beneath me slipped as I sat and I ended up slipping with it slightly. I was quick to right myself and examined the rug below me. I sighed. I shouldn’t leave it so messy. 

I stood to my feet and trotted around to the front of the coffee table, smoothing out the edges so they lay properly. But as I did, something sounded from beneath the rug. I tilted my head to the side and sashayed the rug back and forth. The noise continued, a strange tinkling almost like metal. Conspiratorially, I glanced back and forth to make sure nobody was watching. Just Holly, sitting by his food bowl and wagging, brown eyes focused on something in the distance.

I exhaled quietly through my nose and folded the edge of the rug back and then back again until I saw something. Sewn into the rough underside was a thin pouch, the end of a silver chain dangling from it. Had I not moved the rug, I never would have noticed. I assumed the chain was supposed to go inside the pouch, considering that was where the rest led into, and I ran my fingers along it only to be overcome with curiosity. What was sewn into the rug? What could possibly warrant such security? I knew Yoongi was a quiet man, especially when it came to himself, but this seemed extreme even for him.

I sighed. He would probably be upset with me for snooping. I didn’t want to make him angry, especially after what had happened the night before. But my palms itched to know what that chain was attached to. Really, any insight into Yoongi’s life was thrilling. So, against my better judgement, I reached for the chain and pulled it out the rest of the way. As I did, another metal something clattered against the floor. I followed the weaving line of silver to its end and saw, laying flat on the ground with a hole near the top for the chain, a simple gold key. Like any other key. 

I furrowed my brow at it. It couldn’t be for the apartment, considering we used a keypad instead of a lock. And it was too small to be a car key. I pondered the thing for a long while, tossing it over in my fingers and feeling the cool sting of metal as I struggled to come up with a reason why my husband would sew a secret pocket into the bottom of his rug for such a measly key.

“What are you doing?” 

I lurched backwards onto my bottom and stared breathless over my shoulder at Yoongi as he stood in the doorway, his brows raised and his head tilted to the side. I hadn’t even heard him come in. He stared down at me, dressed as finely as always with his dark locks slightly windswept, and I couldn’t even begin to form a cohesive thought. No strong of words, no amount of infinite syntactic combinations, could explain what I was doing or why I was doing it. I was curious? I should have asked. I was bored? I should have found something else to do.

He took a few steps out of the entryway and towards me, squinting at my hands with a pout. For a moment, he seemed to just…assess the scene before him. He didn’t say much of anything. His eyes travelled from me to the upturned rug, to the chain snaking through the gaps in my fingers, and then back to me. And then, to my shock, he laughed. He laughed so hard it showed his gums. He laughed so hard he had to double over and grip his stomach. I watched with wide eyes as he continued laughing and laughing. Yoongi took only brief pauses in his laughter to look at me splayed out on the floor beneath him and laughed all over again.

Eventually, just by proxy, I began to laugh a little too. He was infectious when he was happy…

“What on earth are you up to?” he asked.

I glanced at the key, suddenly lighter in my hand with the weight of the unknown lifting slowly off of it, and shrugged. “I…I slipped and the rug kinda…slipped too. And then I got curious because this,” I said, jangling the chain, “started making noise. So I looked.”

He nodded and crouched beside me, fingers brushing mine as he retrieved his key and wrapped the chain tightly around it a few times. “It’s for my safe,” he said, glancing at me from the corners of his eyes with a smirk. “Although it would be cooler if it was for something else.”

“It would.”

He sighed as he nestled the key back into the pouch beneath the rug. “Maybe I should think of a new hiding spot, since you found it so easily.”

“I mean…I wouldn’t have noticed if the chain hadn’t come loose,” I said.

He nodded. “I won’t move it then. It’s good that you know where it is now anyway.”

I felt flushed and looked back towards the rug, tidying the edges before Yoongi could do it himself. “What’s in your safe?” I asked.

He tossed his head from side to side as he thought. “Well, my family raised me not to trust banks too much, so I have an emergency…stash…in my safe. Among other…more sentimental effects.”

I thought a moment. There was a glimpse of that unknowable Yoongi again, making my heart drop. If I’d had hopes of talking about the previous night, they were all but gone now. “Anything I should be worried about?” I asked.

He raised his brows at me and offered a slight smile. “Nothing,” he said, but his eyes didn’t crinkle in quite the right way.

After Yoongi and I had fixed up the living room, we took to doing our own private tasks. I had to do some laundry and finish a few reports, and Yoongi was hard at work reviewing a proposal so we didn’t speak all that much. Either he’d forgotten about what happened or he wanted to. Either way, I didn’t see much of an opportunity for me to bring it up again.

But as I busied myself with work, I couldn’t help the intrusive thoughts that crowded my brain. Mostly about my mother. I thought about her sitting in her little apartment in Sillim, watching a show with a big bowl of popcorn or ironing a shirt. I thought of how tremendously I’d done her wrong. From lying about my marriage to lying about my father…

It was too much to ask of my mother to forgive me now.

“Hey,” said Yoongi from the doorway of my bedroom as I folded the last of my clothes. 

I turned to see him leaning against the doorframe with the house phone in his hand. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Jungkook. He’s blubbering,” he said, and he sounded less than pleased about it.

I jumped as I remembered all the texts he’d been sending since early this morning. “I meant to respond to him, but a lot happened today,” I said, mostly to myself.

He nodded. “Well, now he’s on the phone. If there ever was a time to respond…,” he said.

I eyed him. Did he remember the conversation after all? I pursed my lips as I stared at him, clad in a simple black t-shirt and sweatpants. “What should I say?” I asked, testing him.

He seemed to sense this and, instead of avoiding the question or changing the subject, he stood strong and shrugged. “Tell him what you said you’d tell him last night.”

“You remember…,” I breathed.

He sighed and shook the phone a little as he stretched his hand out to me, his arm extending straight forward. “Just take it.”

I shrugged. “Fine, fine,” I said, reaching for the phone and pressing it to my ear, all the while shooing Yoongi from my room.

He reluctantly turned his back and left for the living room and I was left alone. Well, sort of alone. I could hear Jungkook’s sigh on the other end, like he didn’t know I was on the phone yet. I hoped he wasn’t too torn up about what happened.

“Hey,” I said softly into the receiver.

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah. Sorry I haven’t been in touch. It’s been a pretty long day,” I said, then shook my head. “No, I just forgot. I shouldn’t try to make excuses.”

“You forgot?” he asked.

“No!” I shouted, then raked my fingers through my hair and sat down on the edge of my bed. “No. I remember what you said. I just forgot to respond. That’s all.”

“Not exactly the kind of thing a guy wants to hear after he confesses to a girl,” Jungkook said with a laugh. “I forgot to respond.”

“It’s not like you meant it…,” I began, only to be met with silence. “Did you?”

“I mean, why else would I have called you out alone?” he asked.

I rubbed my temples. “No, Jungkook. You’re not like this. You were acting so weird…,” I said. “There’s more.”

“No there’s not.”

I furrowed my brow. “Kook, I can tell you’re lying.”

“If that’s what you need to believe, then fine. But I’m telling you I wasn’t lying. I do have feelings for you,” he said, his voice strong even through the phone.

I blushed. “O…Okay, let’s say it’s true-,”

“Don’t say it’s true. It is true.”

“Alright. So it’s true. There’s more though. There was something else you were going to tell me.” I thought back to that night. How he’d looked over my shoulder. How he’d seen Yoongi behind me before I had even known he was there. “You had to keep it to yourself. Because Yoongi was there…,” I said aloud as I pieced it together.

“No. Stop it. Don’t you trust your own husband?” he asked.

I found myself nodding vigorously. “Of course. It’s not about trust. He’s not the one who’s hiding something here,” I said.

“Then who? Do you mean…Y/N, you think I’m hiding something?” he asked, and I could hear the smallest bit of hurt in his voice.

“I think there’s something big that you wanted to tell me but couldn’t. And I want to know what it is,” I insisted.

He sighed heavily. “Listen, I didn't call to talk about your conspiracy theories. I called to see where your head was at. I know what I said was…kind of a bombshell.”

“I have a feeling what you didn’t say is a bigger one.”

“Y/N enough! Whatever you think, I can’t change it. What’s important is that I told you I liked you and you didn’t even respond,” he said.

I sighed. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“I’m trying to get an answer!”

“I’m in love with Yoongi! And I’m pretty sure you know that!” I shouted into the phone. “Now shut up and answer me.”

“You’re…you’re really in love with him?”

I paused and felt my body heat up like it had the night before. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I am.”

“I mean…I kind of figured. You are married,” he said with a laugh.

I rolled my eyes. “See? Right there. A guy who just got rejected wouldn’t crack jokes. There’s more that you’re not telling me.”

“Jesus Christ! What do you want me to say, Y/N?” 

“I want you to tell me!”

“Tell you what?” he shouted.

“Tell me the truth!”

He chuckled. “Well, I think we’ve both seen how well you handle the truth,” he said with a bitter sigh. “I gotta go. Just…take care of yourself okay?”

“Why does it sound like you’re going somewhere?” I asked with a scoff. “What, one argument and you leave?”

“I think I need to go away for a little while. Just a little. There are things happening in my life that are pulling me in a direction I don’t want to go,” he said.

I stiffened. “Wait…are you really going somewhere?” I asked.

“Yeah. Tomorrow. I’ll be in Nagoya for a while.”

“You…you’re…what?” 

“Don’t freak out. I wanted to tell you but…you never responded,” he said quietly.

I sighed. “Where are you right now?”

“No, don’t come out. Stay home. Play Scrabble with Yoongi or something. I don’t want to see you,” he said.

I huffed, resting a hand on my hip. “What am I supposed to do then? Just let you leave? With things the way they are between us?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

I felt a strange welling of sadness in my chest. Like Hana, Jungkook was a precious friend. I hadn’t given him the attention he deserved, and I’d been a negligent friend. That I didn’t even know what was bothering him in his life to the point of escaping spoke volumes. I’d already wronged my mother. I couldn’t wrong another person today.

“I’m sorry,” I said through the thickness in my throat. “I’m really sorry, Kook.” He was quiet. “What for? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Please tell me where you are.”

“If I do, you’ll come.”

“I will,” I said. I didn’t want to lie to him. I didn’t want to lie to anyone anymore.

The phone was silent save for the static of the open air between us. Neither of us said anything for a very long, very tense moment. I paced in front of my bed and ran my hands through my hair, trying to calm down. I couldn’t bear the thought of Jungkook leaving without at least talking to him first. I was so far entangled in this web of mine, I couldn’t afford to fall deeper.

“I’m at the Han River. Where we met before.”

“I’ll be there,” I said before hanging up the phone and yanking a light jacket from my closet. 

I wasn’t dressed for public, and it was already sunset. God, what melodrama was I in anyway? The married woman running off to meet the desperate boy at the Han River at sunset, dressed in baggy sweats, an old shirt, and a jacket that didn’t match. The plot almost wrote itself. 

Except for one problem. The married woman was hopelessly in love with-

“I-,” said Yoongi as I threw open my bedroom doors. From the look on his surprised — dare I say flustered — face he’d been standing outside those doors the whole time. He’d heard me… “I’m sorry, I wasn’t-,”

“Don’t worry,” I said, gliding past him softly, careful not to let our skin touch for fear of abandoning my mission. “It’s nothing you haven’t already heard.”

Yoongi followed at my heels as I sat in the entryway, yanking old tennis shoes onto my feet. “What are you doing? Are you going to meet him?”

I nodded. “I have to. He’s leaving tomorrow. If I don’t see him now, I don’t know when I’ll see him again.”

“He does this sometimes,” Yoongi said softly from where he sat beside me. “Things get complicated and he leaves. I love him like a brother, but he’s an escapist.”

I turned to face him and steeled my gaze. “Then I’ll stop him from escaping.”

“Y/N,” he breathed.

I shook my head. “I…,” I started, then rubbed my hot cheeks. “I meant it. Both times I said it. So if you’re worried that I may…I don’t know…return his feelings somehow then you don’t have to be.”

Yoongi raised his brows and his cheeks went pink. God, was it refreshing for him to be the blushing one. “I…you…wait, you meant it?”

Suddenly, I felt for Jungkook. Watching the one you have feelings for be so blindsided by your confession that they don’t even believe it…

That was a special kind of pain.

“I meant it. Completely,” I said, looking away towards my laces as my trembling fingers struggled to knot them properly. “I guess that’s good for you then, huh? Me loving you…it’s basically insurance that I won’t mess up our arrangement. You don’t have to worry about me-,”

My voice was suddenly caught in my throat as I felt his lips press harshly against mine. The force of it blew my eyes wide open but slowly, gently, I eased into him. His hand lifted to cup the side of my face. Butterflies erupted in swarms in my stomach. His touch was soft against my skin, soft against me, and I could feel a tenderness from him that I’d never felt before. Smoothly, he kissed me and I felt a warm, subdued passion. His lips were as sweet as I remembered, and I found myself inching closer, eager to feel more of it, more of him. He broke away slightly only to tilt his head to the side and capture my lower lip between his. Just like the day we’d gotten married. And just like that day, I felt lightheaded as his mouth moved softly against mine, pulling me closer and moving his hand to the base of my neck. There, his thumb rubbed soothing circles into my skin. I was flushed, dizzy, and probably not breathing. Once more he broke away and, without giving me so much as a moment to pull myself together, he placed two quick, gentle pecks against my lips.

He leaned away for good this time, but only far enough to look me in the eyes. He looked so different now: heavy-lidded with his lips slightly parted, eyes smoldering but mild and honey-sweet. His cheeks were dusted with rose and his hand was still placed lightly against my neck. I’d be damned if I ruined it by moving.

Slowly, he shut his eyes again and for a split second I thought he might kiss me again. But this time he only came to rest his forehead against mine while we both caught our breath. 

“I trust you,” he said quietly. “More than most anyone. But please…please don’t go.”

I squeezed my eyes shut as my heart kept racing, my pulse louder than it had ever been. “Please don’t ask me not to.”

He was quiet for a moment before he exhaled though his nose and I felt it fan across my cheeks. He pulled away and removed his warm hand from my skin.

He met my eyes and nodded. “I understand.”

I nodded in return, still reeling from what had happened. “I’ll be back,” I said, standing unsteadily to my feet.

Yoongi was quick to support me with his arm, standing to his feet as well. He released a strained chuckle. “I’ll be here,” he said.

We met eyes again and, even though it hurt my heart to do it, I stepped away from him and out the front door.

When I found Jungkook he was exactly where he said he’d be, sitting at that same bench where we’d sat at before. How strange it was that such a familiar place felt at that moment to be completely different, completely foreign. His back was turned to me, facing the water and the waning sun, no more than a distant, vibrant orb of orange beside his head. I slowly walked around the side of the bench and sat on his left. He didn’t turn to face me, still staring at the long horizontal tendrils of purple and blue that the sun created as it slowly descended from the sky. Wisps of cloud turned baby pink, and a navy blue extended from the east.

“I’m gonna miss this spot,” he said quietly from beside me.

I felt tears in my eyes. “You don’t have to.”

He finally turned to face me and I could see he hadn’t gotten much sleep. A fresh wave of guilt consumed me. “It’s the only way.”

“Please,” I said, my voice breaking as I grabbed for his forearm. “Please talk to me. I haven’t been there for you in the past, but I’m here now. Please.”

He chewed on his lower lip as he considered my words, indecision clear in his face. “It’s…it’s my family. Something stupid they did without my permission. They didn’t realize…they didn’t realize how far-reaching the effects of that choice would be. And now I’m the one who has to deal with it. Me,” he said, rubbing beneath his eyes. I could tell he was near to crying. “I’m not cut out for it.”

I nodded and inched closer. “You’re stronger than you think you are,” I said. “You’re not even finished with college and you’re already taking on all of this responsibility.”

He shook his head, this time unable to stop the incessant tears that welled in his eyes and eventually fell against his cheeks. I used the sleeve of my jacket to dab them away. “Remember how I told you I just wanted to be Jungkook?”

“Weeb extraordinaire and-,”

“Yeah,” he said with a small laugh. It was clear he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “It seems that as long as I’m here, as long as I’m in this city, this country, I can never be him. I can pretend. Put on his clothes and play his video games and talk to his friends. But I’ll always be the heir of JJK Group first. Always.”

I shook my head. “Jungkook, you are so much more than that. I…I won’t even pretend I understand what you’re going through. I don’t. But you’re you, first and foremost. You have agency to make your own choices.”

We always have a choice, Y/N. My father’s voice echoed in my mind and I struggled to shut it up.

“I don’t though. If I stay…I may end up hurting people I care about. I may end of betraying the ones who mean the most to me, all because of my name,” he said, sobs now racking his frame as he collapsed into his hands.

I rubbed his back and shook my head. “Kook, you’d never hurt someone if you could help it. Ever.”

His sobs came harder, his body now completely doubled over as he cried. A few couples walked past and gave me incredulous looks. I couldn’t be bothered to even offer them a reassuring smile. I continued to run my hand against his back, gently, until his breath came more evenly and the navy blue overhead had nearly consumed the sunset.

He sat upright and turned to me with red, puffy eyes. I’d never seen anyone so distraught. Plump tears continued to roll off his chin and he sniffled as he stared at me. “I…I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

I shook my head. “What? Why would you hurt me?”

“Because,” he said, rubbing his eyes and then meeting mine once more. “If I stay…the person I’d be betraying the most is you.”

[future-rp]

magic(g)al’s main rap, lead vocal, & visual MINSEO

verve creative; acting, modeling 12 vocal / 12 rap / 06 dance

nam minseo was born the youngest of seven children of rice and strawberry farmers in the north jeolla countryside. her childhood wasn’t anything extraordinary and many who knew her expected her to grow up and follow in the footsteps of her parents, splitting off when she was old enough to marry and settling down in the countryside as the perpetual little sister of the nam kids. some, who took the time to get to know her, might have guessed that she was destined for something different from the spark in her eyes.

even minseo didn’t know her life would take a different path, though. she helped pick strawberries during their harvest season when necessary and played the role of the dutiful youngest, the target of equal parts relentless teasing and gentle care at the hands of her older siblings. she diligently attended the local school and her teachers placed bets on whether she’d grow up to be an angel like minjeong or a prankster like minsik. but she didn’t become the mirror image of either; she was always just minseo. boring minseo, with more interest in books and dramas than sports or academics.

she wasn’t as popular as her siblings, but she was doted on by them nonetheless, babied at times even. her sibling closest to her in age, minho, who was only a year and a half older than her, was always her closest confidant out of the bunch. like her, he had an imagination that could run wild and dreams bigger than reason. they were always the pair that were more likely to be huddled in a corner with an old book than out kicking around a ball with the other kids, so no one noticed as minho grew weaker. even minseo blamed it on a lack of energy from rice harvest season.

one night in the early winter of 2004, the entire family was woken up at the frantic insistence of their mother. minho, who had complained of feeling somewhat ill for a few days, now had contracted an astronomical temperature that had finally prompted them to take him to the hospital.

minseo was too young to understand the words that got whispered as she was shuffled out of the hospital room time after time, but she could tell the mood of her parents and her oldest siblings grew solemn after minho had been in the hospital for a week. a couple months later, and minseo still hadn’t processed what had happened as she tugged on a black dress to attend minho’s funeral.

things became different for minseo then. where she’d once been left in peace to her books, her parents now insisted she get out and play sports with the others. all the food in the house was slowly weeded out to only the healthiest (blandest, in minseo’s opinion) foods. as deep as the mourning in minseo’s soul was, it had now also become a way of life for the nam family. the memory of minho was suffocating them.

at fifteen, her life changed as a light broke through the ever-present dark clouds. the nam family had taken a trip to seoul, and she was out window shopping with her older sister minjeong, who was now married with a kid on the way, when a woman approached the pair. the woman called minseo very pretty and the conversation quickly made a turn to the woman revealing herself as a scout for verve creative. minseo didn’t keep up with idols much, preferring her corner of the world watching dramas and films, but she took the business card anyway and promised she would talk it over with her family.

the verve creative business card was a little secret between minseo and minjeong for a few months before minseo got up the courage to bring it up to her parents. she knew they wouldn’t react well to the idea of their youngest leaving at fifteen to live in seoul to pursue a career that was notoriously hopeless and completely outside of what was expected for the nam children. she carried the business card with her every day, and she felt it growing heavier in her pocket with the weight of what could be.

minseo had never considered being an idol. in her childhood imagination, her thoughts had only ever strayed to the idea of a top actress in a gown walking a red carpet or a brilliantly-decorated heiress on the arm of a handsome man in a suit. an idol was still something, though. a way she could make a name for herself (if she was to forget that her brief search into the company that had scouted her revealed their only group so far had been a complete failure). she sang in church and, in choir at school, she’d gotten a handful of solos, but she’d never seen that as meaning she was ready to be a celebrity (she was naive, ignoring that she was obviously scouted for her looks only).

she finally brought up the business card at  the end of the year neared and she got the bewildered response she’d been expecting. her older brothers teased her for wanting to be a “pretty, airheaded idol”, minjeong gave her a silent look that mixed worry and support, and her parents immediately shot it down.

for the next two weeks, she bugged her parents relentlessly, making promise after promise to try to bring them to her side. eventually they said they’d let her go audition, but would make no promises of letting her sign a contract.

ecstatic once the audition was scheduled, minseo spent hours upon hours considering the perfect song for her audition, the perfect dress, the perfect hairstyle, until the day came that she traveled on the train to seoul with her dad and finally got to stand in front of the panel to show her skills.

it went horribly. in minseo’s opinion at least. as she bowed gratefully and walked out of the audition room, she was sure she’d blown her chance at her newfound dream.

not too long after she returned back home, she got a phone call that verve creative wanted her to sign a trainee contract and move to seoul to begin training as soon as possible. she was awestruck, but apparently they’d seen potential (or her face was just pretty enough to invest in).

the next step was the hardest with her parents and she put in the work to convince them before they finally agreed, on the condition that she finish top of her class at the end of the school year and keep her grades up while training. “this is a serious commitment. if you decide this is what you want to do, we’re not going to let you quit just because it gets too hard,” they had said. they could see in her eyes how much she wanted it, but it would be difficult to cope with the physical and emotional absence of another child when they’d never gotten over minho’s passing and their older children were starting to move out and start families.

minseo brightly agreed and worked tirelessly to meet their expectations before packing up all of her things and moving from the countryside of north jeolla to the city of seoul in february 2010.

minseo quickly regretted her choice. it was hard to adjust to the fast-paced life of seoul and even harder to adjust to being a trainee. endless hours training, evaluation after evaluation, weigh-in after weigh-in, and minseo was beginning to realize just how inept she was at change. she’d promised her parents she wouldn’t quit, though, so she worked even harder and nursed the competitive side she had only just discovered she had.

miss a debuted a few months into her training and she began to see hope in the success with which they were met. that could be her, she told herself, at the same time as her dad expressed concern over the phone about his daughter being paraded around in crop tops, tight pants, and stilettos. but his concerns went in one ear and out the other. she had enough criticisms to focus on from her trainers already.

silver debuted three years into minseo’s trainee time and it deflated her hope that she wasn’t chosen. she was an adult now, and if she hadn’t chosen this path, she would have a more concrete future than what stood in front of her now. she went back to watching films to comfort her own mind late at night, and that’s how she realized she want to be one of the girls in those movies. but she couldn’t quit idol training. she’d given it too much of her time and her parents too big of a promise for that.

two more years passed of refining visuals, finding her way into acting lessons, and the promising prospect of increasing lesson hours, and the minseo finally got to stand on her debut stage in all the pink and white, pumps and bows glory of the main rap, lead vocal, and designated visual of a cute concept. nearing twenty-one, she felt a bit immature playing out a music video of concept of learning to walk in high heels, but she didn’t have any problem with the adorably endearing image that had been assigned to them.

she got to take an a youthful, first love concept that felt fitting to her personality, but it became incredibly apparent that magic(g)al simply wasn’t appealing to the masses in the way they should be. at the same time it became clear magic(g)al wasn’t quite taking after their seniors in the way the company would have liked, minseo got the chance to start building her acting career to a more promising reception.

only a couple of years into their career and magic(g)al seemed on the brink of disbandment. it was the comedy of netizens and the worries of everyone whose career depended on the existence of magic(g)al. minseo found herself internally torn between wanting magic(g)al to find their big break and hoping a quick disbandment could take them so that she could dedicate herself fully to an acting career.

well, their big break came, or the closest thing they were going to get, with their desperate plea of a concept change. suddenly, minseo had to adjust the image she’d been perfecting. the “resting bitch face” that had been meticulously trained out of her now had to make its return, but only at the exact rights moments so that she was deemed fiery girl crush instead of icy diva.

the new interest in magic(g)al renewed minseo’s straying interest to an extent and she worked to become the chameleon she was expected to be (she was an actress; she should be good at this). she found out she could really enjoy being on stage when there was a crowd actually doing their fan chants, but the tear between her one world of magic(g)al and the other of acting was still deepening.

a selfish pull inside of her was becoming her biggest problem until early january, 2018, when she got the phone call she’d never been expecting to receive. a terrible car accident on the icy back roads near their home had ended with the passing of both of minseo’s parents. everything had been looking up with her group’s recent comeback with “stay” and the airing of the new, hugely-successful drama “goblin” she was starring in, but the news left bricks in her chest and in one day, minseo went from on top of the world to on the verge of a breakdown.

the months that followed the devastating news were a blur of repeatedly cycling, intertwining agony and work. all of her doubts about idol life had been thrown away. how could minseo forget that she’d promised her parents she’d never quit just because it got tough? guilt, pain, and self-loathing all began to wrack her brain, but she compartmentalized it, a skill being a celebrity had cultivated in her, and sprung back to her lovely, dream girl image for the public before it took too big of a toll on her group. this wasn’t for her anymore; this was all for them. it had to be.

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Cardcaptor Sakura: Clear Card-hen 1 | Gakuen Babysitters 1 | Idolish7 3 | Zoku Touken Ranbu Hanamaru 1 | Karakai Jouzu no Takagi-san 1 | Miira no Kaikata 1 | Death March 1

The debuts for the winter season keep coming, but we’re almost at the end of them with this post.

Cardcaptor Sakura: Clear Card 1

Note I don’t have any prior experience with Cardcaptor Sakura aside from 1 volume of manga and watching the show in passing while other people were watching it, plus knowing about a few spoilers and the show’s reputation as a seminal magical show show…then in more recent days, I finished 2 episodes of it (in fact as of the day I’m typing this, I finished episide 2 today!).

This OP makes Sakura look like later-stage Sailor Moon, and I think that’s the point.

Where did the bear in Syaoran’s hand go when Sakura hugged him?

Eriol! I don’t really know much about him, and I knew I should’ve known about him before starting this, but…it was a bit of a shock to see a character I technically haven’t seen the debut of with my own eyes.

I get the feeling these are the “two bears” from the prologue OVA…

Emails! In the world of Cardcaptor Sakura! Wow, I feel old…and I didn’t even grow up with her.

Hot dang! Gimme dat bishie (Yue)! I knew he was coming, but…I still don’t really know how he came to be!

Wow, this Yamazaki kid spouts such rubbish! I’m looking forward to seeing him in the main series now.

It’s pretty obvious I need to watch the original before understanding this fully, so I’m putting it on hold.

Gakuen Babysitters 1

I’m here for my Ume and Nishiyama. I’m not particularly good at dealing with kids, especially younger kids, but this doesn’t make me run for the hills either.

Ryuichi involves the kanji for “dragon” and Kotaro has the kanji for “tiger”.

That man with the hat is so not sketchy…

I’ve never heard of NAS before (but I have heard of NAZ through Idolish7).

That joke Saikawa told actually worked! These shows may all be middling this winter, but I’d be happy with even some of them on my docket. I’ve been pleasantly surprised more often than not that I haven’t found “stinker of the season” yet.

The comedy for this show’s really on point, although the overall design is a tad lackluster.

K-Kamitani?! Apparently Ume-chan’s character is Hayato Kamitani, so that’s how Ume got involved, so to speak. This sudden intro of 4 kids works on a story scale, but not in a way any person can process without pausing the video (or getting individual intros later).

Well, there are those individual intros I was asking for. Spoke too soon.

It’s actually kinda sad and quite telling how independent Kotaro is. (I still find it extremely hilarous Nishiyama – whose first name is Kotaro - didn’t voice Kotaro, although from a practical standpoint I understand why.)

Usaida has such bedroom eyes, it’s hard to ignore (because they make him look like En)! Dangit, I want my En back!

This brings back memories. My mum used to deal with kids all the time, and of course I was in the background for some of the shenanigans.

Dragon puppet symbolism, eh? (see the dotpoint a bit back about Ryuichi’s name)

As soon as this guy (who kinda looks like something out of Haikyuu) started demanding Taka come with him, I screamed. That character doesn’t seem very Ume, but…uh, it’s Ume. Gotta deal with it. Now that I listen to their voices properly though, Ume does have a “big bro” voice and Nishiyama a “earnest young man” voice.

Oh dear. Taka’s imprinted on me already, and I don’t even like boys that age.

I haven’t felt a genuine sense of danger from any of these winter shows until this one, so it seems like it’s one of the strongest debuts. Then again, CCS was my frontrunner before this and YuruCamp the second best, so I guess I can’t talk, eh?

Gah, I feel like I wanna cry now. That is a strong premiere!

I have a real problem with how anime tears come out in globs. Then again, I’m too much of a crybaby, as my notes can attest…so I guess no arguing here.

Should it be “Chairman” or “Chairwoman”???

Tsundere grandma. Now there’s something I thought I’d never think in my life…

Oh, I didn’t realise earlier but Taka = “hawk” and Hayato = “falcon man”. Animal jingoism at its finest!

Whoo, that was a real nice debut. I thought I was too old for this stuff, but it’s a keeper!

Idolish7 3

It’s a good thing I chose to cover episodes 1 – 2 so I won’t have to do them now.

I didn’t notice Nagi getting all huggy there with everyone in range (the first time, at least).

In case you don’t know from all the other idol shows, the centre is the one in centre stage. They’re often seen as the leader, so it’s a very important position.

This song can’t be anything but Monster Generation! Woohoo!

Wow, I haven’t seen one of those “watch from a distance” things in a while. Makes me nostalgic.

“Ichi” would probably refer to Iori, right? (He has the kanji for “one” in his name.)

Wowee, Nagi’s entendre…is really thick. Like pudding.

I agree, brothers can be so strange…

“…spoil me sometimes.” - Laying on the entendre thicker than custard here, Iori!

These boys are so into their Magical Kokona. I want in now.

Tamaki really is an En-chan…En-chan! Come back! (But why does Tamaki have no socks???)

These ED outfits are so elaborate! Ooh! Imagine a gender-swapped cosplay of them, that’s be great!

Who’s that on the edge of the ED video though? (You can see something hopping up and down.)

Zoku Touken Ranbu Hanamaru 1

Can we please just call this “Hanamaru 2” like Crunchyroll? “Zoku” just refers to a continuation…anyways, I got Hanamaru season 1 done last year while dealing with Katsugeki, so…here I come, sword boys!

Didn’t Hanamaru get a dub, by the way? Why would you dub this? For me to criticise it? The Touken Ranbu fanbase is kinda small…

W-Wait, did they just write Yams out of this season? Yams is the protag (if not a protag) here! What did Ichiki do now to deserve this???

It was getting too hard to jump through the proxies to play Touken Ranbu as of late, so I deleted my DMM account. Even still, the sword boys have multiplied since I left! Yikes!

Wow, unexpected 1st person bit there, Kashuu/Masuda. I thought I told the industry to stop doing that…

Exposition wave…I don’t need this wave, but I guess anime-only fans might. Carry on, Heshikiri.

So this multiple Konnosuke thing wasn’t a Katsugeki-only gag? Oh dear, my head’s spinning…

I don’t think I noticed, but Kashuu uses a brush (and not a specialty brush provided in the lid of nail polish). Probably because in Touken Ranbu, plastic isn’t much of a concept…

I still appreciate how Kashuu was this Saniwa’s starter. Makes me feel warm and fuzzy for my own TR days…

Photos are a nice way to recap. After all, 1 picture speaks 1000 words.

Wow, Shishiou’s a real chibi compared to these tachi. But Shishiou’s a tachi too…

Dang, I’m jealous. These bros were around when I was a TR player, and I missed ‘em! Dang Kebishii drops!

So that thing really is a nue. I could never see it on Shishiou’s card, y’know.

Hmm…considering the bros are new swords, the Saniwa’s strategy is to level up them up using the younger bro as leader (remember, the leader gets more experience). I see…

A “pincer attack” is a V shape, so the description fits the Crane Wings formation…

I can’t say I wasn’t impressed by Akashi just then. Come to think of it, he didn’t have any battles in Hanamaru’s 1st season.

A double attack suits a pair like this, of course!

Oh my gosh, they even got two dfferent voice actors for the Konnosukes! LOL!

Hanamaru’s EDs kept changing and it seems like they’ll continue to change, eh? This one looks quite spiffy.

The style of this ED doesn’t look like Hanamaru at all. It was probably done by the original illustrator for the swords.

It’s a great return to form for Hanamaru! I’m sold!

Karakai Jouzu no Takagi-san 1

Another day, another long title…plus this show I would’ve passed on, if not for that resolution…

Michiko Yokote is on a lot of shows I watch. I don’t really know what her influence is, but it seems she’s genuinely competent at what she does.

So…uh, Gendo pose anyone?

I think the teacher is the best part of this. I’ve been a bit of Tonari no Seki-kun, and the pull of that is the sheer ludicrousness of what Seki does with his stuff. However, there didn’t seem to be any intervention aside from Yokoi (I think that was her name)…

Nishikata’s reactions are just way too easy to read…

Well, that was okay, but it’s definitely a show to binge all at once. On to the “on hold” pile it goes.

Wait, but they missed a segment (the 100 yen segment). Gotta skip forward…

I didn’t get any laughs out of that show at all, but it’s still a decent school SoL.

How to Keep a Mummy 1

I have absolutely no experience with this manga, mind you…aside from seeing this tiny mummy on Comico…

Wow, if the mummy can fit in his shoe…how big is it?

The translation of “ready” is surprisingly ganbaru, and there’s a “but” mentioned in the Japanese title missing from the English. Also, “ready” has sexual connotations I’d rather not pair with a tiny mummy…I’d say the translation of the episode title should be something more along the lines of “White, Round, Small, Very Wimpy But [Also] Tries Its Hardest” (“It” being the mummy and not Pennywise…).

Is Dracula even public domain right now? (Does anyone care about the intellectual property of a classic vampire novel anyway? Because I sure don’t.)

Can we please start making jokes about how Sora’s daddy got him a mummy? It may seem childish, but I’m tempted to now.

This mummy is so adorable, I think it even beat out the kids from Gakuen Babysitters! Geesh, I’m spoilt this season! It completely set off my moe senses, and I don’t even have any!

It imprinted on him! Oh wow!

The mummy doesn’t even have a mouth…how can it spit things-oh wait. That’s the joke, isn’t it?

Come to think of it, crybaby characters ae few and far between. However, between this and Devilman…er, Crybaby…they’ve suddenly become popular…I guess?

It’s like a harem, only it’s between a dog and a mummy. Why I never…

One of the best things about anime is that you can learn about other cultures through the things included offhandedly…like that molokhiya thing that Sora mentioned. Apparently it’s a Jewish vegetable of some sort.

Do mummies get jet lag too? I was just thinking how Comico stories, with their full colour and yet simple design (to allow for downward scrolling and intake by the eyes) are perfect for anime.

I listened to the show with volume for once…because Tazuki seems to be the guy voiced by Keisuke Koumoto…and I think I was on the money there. Plus, Sora’s VA really sells the delivery of jokes (although he seems to be voiced by a woman…?)!

Yamanba…like Yamanbagiri’s namesake. The mountain hag, right?

Yep, I was right on the money with Tazuki being Koumoto. Kamitani Tazuki, it seems his name is…

This dance ending’s kind of cute, too. It’s a keeper!

Death March 1

(looks at title just above this dotpoint) C’mon. There’s no way I’m going to repeat “Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody” over and over again for at least 11 or 12 episodes…by the way, I’m here because I was reading a KonoSuba novel and saw an ad for this, just in time for the anime…

“SADA”, my butt…

I love how they almost replicated Windows 8 in this show. Or is it 7, or 10? They don’t show the taskbar, which is the main visual difference between 8 and 10, but either way the Windows replication without being sued is really something…

This OP’s gonna make me dizzy someday…

Classes, eh? So that means Suzuki’s working with an OOP language. Plus you can see Cortana on the computer as the mention of classes goes by, meaning that person’s on Windows 10.

UML.

By the way, Satou is a fairly common name in Japan…at least to my knowledge. But Suzuki is a pretty common one, too, hence the mistake.

The client? Unless Suzuki is referring to the client as in the program, it could also mean the client as in the person/group who wants the game made. Considering what he says though involving a call, it’s probably the latter.

That’s the second show with a lost kid in the first episode. It seems a bit trite, don’tcha think?

According to his phone map (flip phone!), he’s in Akihabara.

FFL…eh? Google says there are multiple Final Fantasy games for Android, meaning I’ve probably thinking of Fire Emblem Fates (which doesn’t match), and there’s no such thing as Final Fantasy 50 (L in Roman numerals) yet.

That’s the second time they mentioned work/daily life being a death march. Can we not???

Come to think of it, Suzuki looks like Nobuaki (King’s Game), which doesn’t bode well for either show.

Apparently you can get Facebook Messenger for Windows 10, which I didn’t know…

“…being a corporate slave.”

C’mon! This ain’t the Animatrix, but still, if you’re trying to make stuff look technological, at least make it look a bit better.

Third time they’ve mentioned “death march”.

It might just be Houseki no Kuni’s fault, but this CGI is really janky.

Welllll…at least it looks like a game.

Welllllllll…at least they knew where to put their money for some sakuga…

This running through fields scene is either a homage to Every Anime Opening ever, or Pokémon. I distinctly remember it being in Emerald’s opening animation, at least.

Dude, if you want to look for a wyvern, do it from the ground where you won’t get injured, dumb Satoo.

Does this look a lot like Berserk (2016) with all its CGI knights…or is that just me?

Zena…? I might be showing how old I am with this (or how much I scour the internet), but…by any chance, do you mean this gal instead?

I think I’ve had enough of this flip for now, so I’m putting it on hold.

[circularwastemememe-blog]

Resistance

Even I do feel relatively in peace, there are aspects of me that I truly need to re-examine. 

I ran into some obstacles. I gotta look into my soul and emotions to gain some insights.

I found my previous collaborator trolling me again, and that really annoys me. I try to find ways to make a difference to my circumstances but I feel truly frustrated as though the world is against me. 

My mom asked me to stop fighting back or announcing his wrongs in public. But I cannot go on letting others treat me as shits. This is unfair. I also hate the fact that my life is full of such type of drama to deal with. I stand alone because there seems to be no one to help me. Then I start to feel resentful. I begin to wonder who the fuck would wanna involve themselves in such world of mine - a world that is full of discrimination, fights, anger, failures, disappointments, and hard works. Then I begin to hate my body, my voice as though they are separate beings disconnected from my face. I won't say I'm going to break down but there is something wrong that needs to be fixed. How to find the problem? Go to find it in the worst matter that is highly likely to trigger you - watch Clara's new video. Gee, it sounds almost like a dark joke but I mean it. I had been filled with negative vibes towards this woman, who had been the source for a great many negative inspirations despite that it is hard to associate all this with her beautiful, flirtatiously pleasant face. 

I forced myself to be detached: If I did not have any bit of personal conversation, even just feeble connections, if she were truly a total stranger, if I did not know her life a bit, how would I feel about her video? I think I'd subscribe to her channel and leave her a positive comment full of appreciation and encouragement. And I'd share her video on Facebook posts and with some of my guy friends with my best wishes that she would get a substantial career with her lovely singing voice and her skillset on cinematography. Yes. That is me. I would be doing that as a pure good wish for a beautiful woman who gives me minutes of relief and aesthetic exaltation, which is sheerly impersonal. Even I don't know her, I wish her well. 

Then why I wouldn't since I did have some feeble interactions with her before? Because she manipulated me with her beauty and made me give her more values than she deserves in my life, all for her vanity. Because she knew what happened to me and chose not to say a thing to relieve me. She pretended to be a liberal-minded humanist but she ain't. What makes it worse? She pretended she cared but she did not. All her beliefs are just words to invite likes so simple-minded suckers like me would leave a comment saying she is beautiful inside out. She seemed sweet and gentle with positive words but she was not really a considerate person at all. All her good manners are for her self-image but the well-being of others. Because after all that, I just realize she is very selfish, narcissistic and cold. After having some idea about her, her video appears like she is winking to deliberately seduce/manipulate the audience as she abuses her sex appeal to get the recognition/attention she wants, like she is making fun of people who sincerely care about her as she celebrates her success of making many people fools for her. She is like that type of person who smiles and flirts with guys while her female friends are dying next room and she is not going to do a thing about it. Other guys told me she is trying too hard to be edgy and authentic but fail. Other guys told me that she is rich French middle-class whose stereotypical temperament is, they always do what they want and they don't give a shit, proud and selfish. Others said, why would anyone wanna show nude pictures in public without being paid to do so? This chick obviously loves herself very much. 

She has all the qualities to be a great female singer or artist. (I don't really know whether she can write any song except that she cannot really do live singing with her ukulele since all her videos are processed and edited together. Which is fine. At least she can make good effects with cinematography.) But she just does not have much of a soul to sustain all that even she seems to try very hard by changing her styles. No one bothers to tell her that because they are busy figuring out ways to get into her pants.

Then, I gotta pretend I'm not me and ask me one important question: Do you want her? 

The truth is, I don't know. It seems common senses to want her because all that she is given out there. I bet most people would say yes if they are asked, within ten minutes. I always try to hold a pure mind when it comes to beautiful ladies despite their drawbacks. I wanna mold them into that wonderful woman with my love by overlooking their faults so they will get to become that perfect companion I always want. Then why you don't know, dude? Why? Are you pretending? Yes and no. I'm afraid of the harm she's going to do to me if I don't keep my guard. I'm afraid of giving her that importance, that burdensome value in my life, that much power. And obviously, she cannot do good with all that power. If she is likely to shoot randomly with a gun, you should have enough senses not to hand her any ammunition. Ok, all this is resistance. Who would wanna be with someone who holds such strong, negative opinions towards them?

If someone holds such a negative view of me, what would I do? I will try to understand them first. At least they bother to complain. It is better than people who don't say a word. Silence is the highest form of contempt. It is never my wish to crash anyone's self-esteem. It is not a zero-sum game - you win and I lose. No one wins, in fact. Judging from that, Clara must feel a need to contempt me so she can win by all means. Also, her need to win in this case is very questionable as though there is something unspeakably weak and frail hidden beneath. 

Maybe I'm being conscientious with this question. Without building a solid bonding, whatever motivates me to want her is superficial - I wanna caress a beautiful face and go to bed with good-looking people as everyone in this world would like to. I also know how it feels to get people into liking you for your appearance. Admiration given free is valueless. Only admiration earned has everlasting values. It is also pretentious to deny your attraction to her but all that is kinda superficial. I have eyes and I'm human and I do enjoy watching fine things. Objectively, I do appreciate her in some aspects but I don't admire her after living through all this. I must say, she handled it horribly. In the end, she acted like a 12-year-old who was unable to sustain an authentic friendship and unfriended some unwanted ex-suitor on Facebook. I was surprised but not so surprised. I somehow felt sorry that she had let herself go and descended to a new low point, as though she were my teenage sister and I was with all that patience in this world to wait for her to get reformed. 

Further, judging from my experiences of going to bed with beautiful men, they are usually mediocre lays. The moment I screwed them or they screwed me, I felt bored. Looks is not everything. I tend to give woman's looks more value than man. As to men, I prefer to look at their souls. 

I guess I'm okay now. Despite the excruciating distress from this experience, I've come to accept myself a bit better, appreciate a bit more of what I have and the few true people around me. I thought she was what could make me happy but I was wrong. I worked so hard to get what I've always wanted, things and people as goals to attain, people who seemed to be able to make me happy, but all I got was more and more unhappiness in my pursuit of "happiness." Now I just wanna be around people who don't make me unhappy. People who stay around and interact with me to create true values for me. Such values will always exist even they age and change physically. That is precious enough for me.

Clara will eventually age or die someday as we all do, or change her hair and get into an un-fitting style that uglifies her, and all she had created was just a lovely image without content for me. My portraits of her would always be there as I genuinely spent years of my life creating something out there with my heart and soul. I love those works for their true emotions and raw affections even they could be fruits of erotomania. Reluctant as I was, with my fate, I had created true values out there, despite being unseen by this world. Which is fine. Because I believe in me, myself and my art. May the world rot and perish, they will be there as always.

I'm sorry to have been so harsh on her. She is just a girl who wanna celebrate the few things she has had online so she can like herself a bit better. I place her under my microscope for scrutiny because I was also a girl who looked for importance online. I thought she was higher and it broke my heart to see my "idol" act like some commonplace person as it angered me that she had fooled me so well. Gee, I still sound so negative. I think I should make an effort to grow up and forgive her as she is just a lost girl who plays goddess, like my 5-year-old niece who gets delighted when we call her Snow White and treat her like a princess even she is not. (Hopefully, she will grow up and mature in time and be alright with herself, even without someone who treats her like a princess.)

I think I'm alright now.