#another day of me digging for dividers..... finding the right stuff is always worth it :>

[naenaex0xx]

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[damselofblueroses]

Bambi, Ch. 2, Ghost

You are my Bambi, girl, I am your candy, tell me what are you waiting for?

Summary: As an archaeologist who works on the Ancient Greece, you were on the verge of excavations’ session. While you have been preparing your team, you learned that your institute decided on your team has to work with another team as they wanted the outcome as a collaboration. The head of other team was your biggest rival, a scumbag in your eyes: Byun Baekhyun.

You two were supposed to work together for three months, in a Greek Island, Chios.

Could you manage to not kill Byun Baekhyun for three months?

Chapter Summary: Byun Baekhyun and the Reader remember the day they spent in UN Village together while they are heading to Chios. (Guys, this chapter, which is dedicated to the beginning of their relationship, is going to be two parts, otherwise it is going to be more than 20k lol)

Word Count: 11k

Content: AU, heavily Greek mythology, enemies to lovers.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story will be 7 or 8 chapters if I will not change my mind in the meantime. It is inspired by my major; however, I do not have a complete knowledge on archaeology, I am a historian. If I will make a technical mistake, please let me know. I am willing to receive any kind of feedback; you are more than welcomed to drop a message.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2: Ghost

5 years ago, Hannam-dong

Even if I want you so much it drives me crazy

You ghost

Even if I want and call for you all night long

You came to me and left without a word

You ghost, you ghost

You want to go crazy all night, you plead

You ghost

You disappeared again without a trace

“What type of sadistic and sick person could say that we have to work here?” you cursed between your teeth, you jaw clenched because of pure anger. “How do they expect us to do our job in the middle of fucking super-ultra-rich people?”

“Get used to it.” Junmyeon flinched your forehead, but his frustration was oblivious, even though he was doing definitely better than you. “Where is Baekhyun?”

“I do not know.” you recklessly pointed to the expensive cars on the road. “Maybe he was looking for a sugar mommy.”

“As your sunbae,” Minseok hit you. “I would like to remind you to hold on your manners.”

“Someone has to give a speech on manners to him.” your eyebrows knitted together. “Not to me.”

“Both of you,” Kyungsoo nonchalantly spoke. “need a really good beaten session, since both of you have no idea on how to behave.”

You threw the book you were holding to Kyungsoo, but he was too quick and easily saved himself from your unexpected attack.

“I am here, right?” you hissed. “Where the heck is that bastard? He always disappears when it comes to work, why do you hold me in the same esteem with him?”

“Because you are definitely a copy of Baekhyun.” Chanyeol laughed at your god-fucking-damn-it-so-horrible face expression. “Let’s face with the fact, Indy. Everyone knows that Baekhyun is a disciplined student, just as you are, badmouthed, just as you are.”

“Are you talking about me?” Baekhyun popped out of nowhere. “I heard you are praising me less than the way I deserve.”

Your face could be described as disgusted, but this would be the kindest way of telling how your appearance was. Actually, you wanted to punch his narcissistic self-perspective, to shake his cage in order to give him the lesson he deserved, but you did not want to be scolded by Junmyeon again. You just walked away from him, needing to put a safe distance between yourself and Baekhyun.

God, if you could run away to space, you would do it in order to not infuse with the same air with Baekhyun.

You disliked him, you disliked the way of his well-being, you disliked his velvety voice, his lame jokes, his sharp remarks, you disliked everything about Byun Baekhyun.

And you hated yourself because of finding him very handsome. Sometimes, you caught yourself, staring at Baekhyun, forgetting how to breath properly. His face was like a gift of God himself; his body ratio made you to say oh-my-fucking-god.

Thank God, he had the most annoying character, because if he had a good personality, you knew that you would fall in love over the heels with him.

“What kind of idiot chained us here?” Baekhyun asked to Junmyeon. “Fuck’s sake, what the heck we are going to here? Digging beneath the Richie riches’ villas?”

Chanyeol bite his lips before looking at you, silently reminding your own words and his remarks about being very same with Baekhyun. You did not back off, staring at Chanyeol with all frustration went through your veins, causing Chanyeol to laugh. Baekhyun hit his head, then walked towards Junmyeon to take his own tool bag.

You hated him for this, too. He was acting like he was a superior, like he was better than any of you, and what got your nerves badly was no one scold him as they would scold you if you would do the same things.

“Yeah, I am like this scumbag who does not carry even his own stuff, huh?” you literally sizzled between your teeth, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo heard your annoyed voice, but they preferred to keep their silence. Your hate was not a secret for the team, everyone was aware of the fact that putting you and Baekhyun was a dangerous decision since he also loathed you.

But to your dismays, you were the brightest students Sejong could always play on.

“Seriously what we are going to do?” Baekhyun repeated his question because he really did not have a single clue.

“Didn’t you read the mail Sejong sent us?” Jongdae asked him, raising one eyebrow. Baekhyun shrugged his shoulder, you bit your lower lip in order keep your frustration under your control. What a bastard!

“We have to visit UN Village, there are seven neighbourhood where we have to go and collect the permissions of the residents.” Junmyeon run his hand through his hair. He was already on the verge of cracking since he was the one who had to deal with a lot of capricious upper-class members in order to complete this fucking task. He wished nothing but changing his path, he started to think like the field was not his cup of tea, but before resigning from leadership, he wanted to find a good candidate who could lead the team.

He wanted you to be that leader. You and Baekhyun. Heretofore, Junmyeon laid his eyes on both of you and your abilities persuaded him to nominate your names when he could propose an election. He did not want to be a fieldperson, he wished to stay in his office, but at the same time, he could not inherit his legacy, Godfuckingdamnit Junmyeon’s did his best in order to engrave his name as one of the most successful captains, to anyone but the best. Yet, Junmyeon had no idea how to put you in good terms, since you were like a cat and dog, and Chanyeol, that giant idiot, used every opportunity to fan the flames, even that silent Kyungsoo enjoyed watching intangible scuffles between you and Baekhyun.

Junmyeon has been sensing that the team was becoming aware of the situation and camping as two different poles. Jongdae, Shinhye and Minseok were setting off closer to you while Chanyeol, Kyungsoo and the newbie, Jongin have been shifting to Baekhyun’s side. Damn, Junmyeon could not let it to be happen. He needed all of you under the same umbrella, especially you and Baekhyun had to stay together. He was seeing a great potential of you, if you could combine your powers, you were going to be the perfect team. Period.

“Let’s split into teams.” his eyes wandered around all of you. “We are eight, if we can divide ourselves into four teams, we will finish the job easier and quicker.”

“Yeah, you are right.” Kyungsoo approved. “I am going to take Chanyeol.”

“Are you my superior, dumbass?” Chanyeol hit his shoulder, but he was laughing. “I am with Kyungsoo.”

“Good.” Junmyeon inhaled. “Shinhye, you are with Jongdae.”

You automatically stirred next to Minseok, however you shuttered after hearing Junmyeon’s next orders.

“Indy, you and Baekhyun are together, Minseok, let’s go.”

“What?!” you immediately stopped and hissed at Junmyeon. “Am I with who?”

Jongdae realized the storm before seeing the clouds, clever as always, he disappeared while dragging Shinhye with him. You even did not notice, but Chanyeol’s smile widened, Kyungsoo smirked, and they rushed to their own direction.

Only four of you were standing on the pavement, you were throwing daggers to Junmyeon with your eyes. Baekhyun was nonchalantly looking at Junmyeon, while Minseok could not find a way to break the tension.

Junmyeon was cool as a cucumber.

“You are with Baekhyun.” he repeated his words, sounding like he was condemning you with execution. “What? Do you have a rejection?”

“Yes!” you exploded without thinking. “Why shou-

“Believe me,” Baekhyun interrupted your words, he was indifferent to your frustration. “I did not beg for being in the same team with you.”

“Did I claim that?” you swiftly turned on your tiptoes. “Did I say you are eager to be with me?”

“It would be the greatest joke you could make.” Baekhyun winked to you. “But you are not so into the entertainment, right?”

“Baekhyun,” Minseok noisily cleared his throat. “I am not sur-

“What do you know about me?” you heard your own voice. “This is why we cannot work together, you always make assumptions out of your ass, instead I work as organized, with the facts and tangible proofs.”

“What do you know about me?” Baekhyun coldly smiled at you, you could not describe its impacts on you, that smile had you wanting to punch him at the same time ignited some fires in your lower stomach. “We barely talk, have you been watching me all the time?”

“You wish.” you took a deep breath. “You are not worth my time.”

“Oh,” his eyes glimmered with a menacing luminescence. “I am deeply wounded.”

“If you are done,” Junmyeon raised his hands to the air. “We have to work.”

“Jun-

“Young lady,” Baekhyun barged on. “They did not teach you this, so it’s up to me but we are not in kindergarten anymore.”

You had to admit, no one could get your nerves till now like Baekhyun did.

You had to admit, you hated being called as a kid. Junmyeon’s eyes blown up when Baekhyun labelled you as a kid, before he could open his mouth, you stared at Baekhyun.

“I can see why we could be a team.” you took the directional instructions from Junmyeon’s hand. “A kindergarten kid has to take care of a cry baby while the adults have to work.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrowed, but you wholly ignored his visible annoyance, and started to walk. Junmyeon was looking at your back with a little bit concerned face, but he knew that he did what he had to do.

You were going to scold Junmyeon in the following hours of the day, however, now your job was teaching a couple of lessons on manners to this scumbag who has been walking beside you.

You spent the first hour in a total silence, talking only if the occasion called for it. The tension between you and Baekhyun was solid, someone could cut it with a knife without any problem. Baekhyun was bored to death, he never plan to have a day like this, he wanted to enjoy everything he did, he thought he could be with Chanyeol or Kyungsoo, having fun to death.

Instead, he was trapped with you.

The only girl he loathed to the bits.

He could not endure to hear your voice, even though you talked with the residents very kindly and respectfully. He had to admit that you were doing a good job, but it did not change anything he felt for you. He had been cursing Junmyeon since he put you two in the same task, however, he knew that if Junmyeon wanted something from Baekhyun, he would do it without question. Baekhyun could be many things, but he was loyal to his friends, and Junmyeon had a special place in his heart.

Also, behind the curtains of his hate, he could see why Junmyeon gave you to him. Although you were an abominable bitch, an obnoxious creature, a walking blasphemy, and a hate crime, Baekhyun did not think you could be an offspring of a lovely or healthy relationship, he was sure your parents were diabolical beasts, to his disappointment, you were reallyclever.

He wished you could be more reliable person, so he could work with you.

Baekhyun did not like to confess, yet he was aware of the fact that he desperately needed his own Evelyn O’Connor. Someone who could play the game with him, as his trustable partner in crime. He was extremely close to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, but they were not equal to his wits and ambitions. Sometimes he was brassed off the conversations, time to time he found them boring and lame. His logic was faster than his mates, actually he was longing for nothing, but someone was equal to his high-speed brain.

You could be the one he was searching for, but you were made of poison, greed, and wickedness. Even if he would be blessed by the Heavens, he could not agree to work someone with you.

“Your Highness,” he heard your fucking voice. “We have to visit at least twelve houses more; do you mind hurrying up?”

“The only thing I mind is your fucking attitude.” he gritted his teeth. “Give the plan to me.”

“So, you can destroy everything I organized properly?” you smirked. “I do not think so.”

“Organized?” Baekhyun cocked his eyebrow. “Organized, my ass. Didn’t you lose Park Sangwan’s house? Twice?”

“Look who is talking.” the red of embarrassment slightly painted your cheeks and ears. “The one who had no idea about today’s plans.”

“At least I did not lose my fucking way and circled around the same house almost for half an hour.”

“And the award goes to Byun Baekhyun for his greatest achievements.” you gave back the wink to him, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, breaking news. No achievement no award.”

Baekhyun took it personally since you two competed to each other as the finalists of last academic year. Your project was accepted as the winner while Baekhyun received only a certificate. You hit the lotto, he had to watch you, walking to the stage with a bright smile tugged on your lips.

Still, he could vividly remember the little smirk you gave to him that night when they announced your name.

“You did it consciously.” his jaw clenched. “That night. When they called you as the winner. You immediately turned to me just to annoy me.”

“It seems, I achieve my goal.” your smirk widened, a glistening layer of fun covered your face. “Were you disappointed?”

“Yeah, of course.” he did not miss a single second. “I was disappointed of the professors, I was believing they were cleverer than me, but their choice showed me they were nothing but idiots.”

“Could you smell the air, Baekhyun?” you asked with a serious face. He was confused for a second, you never ask a question to him or call him by his name, but before he could register, you tucked the words in his throat. “Oh, jealousy, my favourite.”

“Darling,” Baekhyun swallowed hard. “There is no single living soul who can be low enough to jealous you in this universe.”

That was not quite truth, because Baekhyun not only remembered your revengeful smile but also how you were looking like that day. He could paint you on canvas by closed eyes, and he would not miss a single detail.

And he was a little bit jealous on that day. Not only because he lost over to you, but also because of the people around you. You annoyed him not only with your award, but also with your closeness to the other men.

Despite of your usual oversize clothes or no makeup policy, you chose to present yourself in a different style. Your hair was perfectly combed, your makeup highlighted your face features, and you were wearing a little light blue dress which tightly caressed your body. Baekhyun, or none of your classmates knew that you had curves for example till that night and to Baekhyun’s dismay, you had a really good body. You were a minion, your beauty was very soft and although he really hated to admit this, you were a view for the spectators. Maybe not the prettiest, but you had something had people looking at you, liking you, desiring you.

You had an aura which was enough to make your biggest enemy to silently acknowledged that you were attractive.

“Maybe, there is no one.” you shrugged your shoulder. “But youwere eager to low yourself, huh?”

You did not forget the look on Baekhyun’s face when Professor Kim called you to the stage. You were sure as fuck, he was cursing you but also there was something else, glowing in his eyes. Something you could not describe, but you could see the same emotion in your reflection when you saw Baekhyun with that crowd of girls.

Rarely.

But still you knew that feeling.

That ceremony was hard for you, of course you were over the moon because of your achievement, that project opened you some fresh opportunities and proved that despite of being a junior, you were more than a bachelor student. You proved your talents and abilities to yourself by winning the first place, you completed a step, made your first goal come true.

And you nailed Byun Baekhyun’s coffin. It was worth of every minute you spent sleepless, your tears and sweats, the hours in library, the hours in front of the plan of Gyeongbokgung Palace and search for the most logical and safest ways of conducting an excavation around the palace.

Your ideas were chosen over Baekhyun’s ideas, and you were aware of the quality of the solutions he proposed.

You were proud of yourself.

It was the bare truth that Baekhyun’s face were singing to you just as your favourite band could sing, seeing his face just like someone fed him with cucumbers was equal to being accepted into your dream field, Chios’ excavations, as the chief archaeologist.

But you were annoyed.

You could not happily taste your success. You could not feel its flavour on your tongue buds.

Because of that bastard looked fucking magnificent in that bloody black suit.

You have been told about the dress code you had to follow, however no one, not a single soul managed to catch his level of looking good in a suit.

You were annoyed because your taste in men was exactly equal to Byun Baekhyun. He had everything you could ask for, he was devilishly charming, there was even no need for words to describe him, he was beautiful.

And he was the only one you hated the most.

Every girl in the room was drooling over him, to your dismay, just like you. You felt that feeling in your stomach, a pain which was spinning, spinning, and spinning, causing a tornado inside of your stomach.

Was it jealousy?

“I already noticed your ignorance about the feelings.” Baekhyun could not control himself anymore and grabbed your shoulder, turning you to the opposite direction. “We have to follow this fucking street, or we will be lost again.”

“Have you been observing me, Baekhyunnie? That’s so cute.” you ignored the second part of his words, just starting to walk on the direction he instructed to you.

“Observing you takes a minute, baby girl, since there is nothing to see.” he answered but he found it interesting when you called him as Baekhyunnie. “You are a spoiled brat.”

“Hop, that hurts.” you pouted, pressed your fist on your chest, faking a whimper. “Would you like to tame this spoiled brat?”

You started to think that you went nuts.

“In your dreams.” Baekhyun laughed, but he literally lost himself in the fucking possibilities you could be tamed by him. “You have to wait a couple of centuries for someone who can be willing to be with you.”

You chuckled but preferred to keep your silence after his words. Damn, your sudden quietude caught Baekhyun’s attention more. Why didn’t you not attack to him? Why didn’t you give him a sharp answer as you should have?

Why you chuckled like there was a line at your door?

Was it?

Baekhyun pondered that instead of the fact that you were generally with a small group of friends, to both of your dismays your common friends, he did not see you with strangers, so there could not a queue for your hand.

Could it be?

And why the fuck he should have care if there is a crowd for you or not? No one could want someone like you if they did not lose their mind.

But he cared. Fuck, he cared more than he wanted.

Because to his disappointment, he knew that there was a real cavalcade of knightly candidates for you.

“Okey,” you checked the time. “After this one, I am going to have lunch.”

“We are going to have lunch.” Baekhyun gritted his teeth. “I hate eating alone enough to endure your presence.”

“Didn’t you tell me there is no one who could want to be with me?” you snickered. “But you have no reservations about having lunch with me?”

“Imagine the situation I am in.” he grumbled. “The day gets better and better.”

You decided to annoy him, pushing him to the edges as much as you could do. The first response that came to your mind refusing him, but the other option was funnier. You could play with Byun Baekhyun, you could take your revenge by being a pain in the ass.

He said that he could endure your presence.

You could make him regretful of his words.

There was a very little smile tugged on your lips which you were not aware of, however, to his dismay, Baekhyun realized it.

Her lips are rosy and plump, he thought to himself. Even though he called you a spoiled brat, he was not sure of if you were a brat or not. Kiddos have not the type of lips, calling people for the kisses, like you. There was something, even during your cocky performances when you tried to beat the life out of him, although you always kept that dull and bored expression and acted like Baekhyun was not worth of your time, but there was something just in you.

Baekhyun swallowed down his own vomit when he admitted it to himself, and you have caught his glare.

“What?” you purred. “Can’t you take your eyes off me?”

“Who the hell wants to watch you?” he quickly collected his thoughts and put them in a fucking trail. “I am looking for a restaurant where we can have good food.”

After a permanent mutual ignorance session for years, his next words caught you off your guard.

“You like local foods, right?” he asked. “I guess the second shop on this street is famous for jjangmyeon and tteokbokki.”

Well, you had to admit that his questions made your brain a little bit foggy. How could he know that?

“Yeah.” for the first time in history, you did not come up with any sharp answer. “How about you?”

“As long as there is no cucumber or extremely sweet cuisine,” he started to walk. “I am fine.”

You heard that Baekhyun is really not in good terms with cucumber.

“Feel you.” you murmured in your mouth because you hated cucumbers as much as you hated Baekhyun. He swiftly look at you, you accompanied him on the street.

“We should celebrate.” he teased. “I said something, you just answered, and we did not have a fight.”

“This is a privilege for cucumbers.” you shrugged your shoulder, but you also felt that he did not buy your nonchalant tone. “I cannot stand them, mum loves it too much, I mean what type of person can love a cucumber? If I need water, I prefer to drink it.”

Your observation made him tilted his head back in that rumbling laugh of his, you were unwilling to join, but the corners of your mouth turned up slightly.

“Here we go.” He, as a gentleman, opened the door for you, you responded with the most neutral expression you could muster. “Oh, no thanks?”

“Thank you.” you rolled your eyes, however, despite of your strongly negative feelings against him, you do not like rudeness. “Sorry, that was insolence of me.”

“Your apology is fully accepted.” he winked, you hated that cocky tone, you hated yourself for falling into his trap. You passed him, went to a distanced table where it placed in the corner. You did not want to be seen as having a lunch with Baekhyun by your teammates.

Corner was fine.

“Oh, no.” he grabbed your arm, manhandled you to the tables of the center. “I will not let you escape. If they see us, let them to see.”

Your eyebrows knitted, your lips pressed to each other enough to form a thick line on your face, you could almost taste your growing anger. But at the same time, you realized that feeling his hand on your skin increased your heartbeats, you wanted to scream with self-hatred, but you bite down on your tongue as his hand quickly wandered to down, to your waist. He directed you to the most visible table from outside while you were fighting yourself in order to control your fucking pace of breathing.

Please, this could not be true, I could not be excited because of his touch, you thought.

This was not happening, what the fuck was happening?

Baekhyun was not so different from you, even though his face expression was not changed for a bit. He forced himself to take control, but it was really hard for him.

Your hate was reciprocated, right? You guys could not spend even a bloody minute in peace, the only thing you had was annoyance.

So, why you perfectly fit in his embrace just like you were made just to be under his arm?

Why Baekhyun wanted to tight his arm around your waist?

Why could you not say anything even though Baekhyun was literally holding you?

Why you felt like you were in the only place where you had to be for the rest of your days?

“Hi.” you heard the waitress who was a really beautiful girl. “Welcome to Sung’s String. How can I help you?”

Even though finishing her sentence, she begun to eye Baekhyun. You rolled your eyes and reached to the menu; to be honest, this show was not funny after seeing it for the million times. Every time, Sejong Team went outside for a drink, for a gathering or even for a museum trip, girls and sometimes boys gazing the members of Sejong Team just like they were idols or actors because of their good-looking. Eh, they were not wrong, you had to say that the Sejong Team included really, really, and really handsome boys from Baekhyun to Chanyeol, from Kyungsoo to Jongdae and these boys’ superiors were Kim oh-my-godJunmyeon and Kim lord-help-us Minseok.

Well…

You were already got used to the reactions coming from all around when Sejong Team showed their faces. You knew that both of insiders and outsiders of Sejong Institute called your team members as the Flower Boys or a shitty nickname like that.

“I would like to have a jjangmyeon without cucumbers, and a tteokbokki.” you turned the menu off. “With a light coke.”

“Coke?” Baekhyun mimicked you like he could not believe his ears. “Are you kidding? Everyone knows that you have to drink jasmine tea in order to help digestion.”

“Have you been majored in nutrition?” you gave him your bitchy resting face. “Shut the fuck up.”

“No coke.” he wholly ignored you and turned to the waitress who was watching him as drooling. “Please, we want two bowls of jjangmyeon, two tteokbokki, also please we would like to have kimbap and kimchi as the garnitures and of course a pot of jasmine tea.”

“Yeah!” she sounded weaker after Baekhyun conducted all power he had in his eyes to her. “Anything else?”

“I guess we are fine for the time being.” Baekhyun smiled to her, causing a flush of redness on her cheeks.

“I will be back as soon as possible.” the girl literally purred, Baekhyun’s eyes shined after her reaction. Little bastard. You did not want to think about it, but his visible joy had your stomach churned. You inhaled and took your book out of your bag.

“What are you doing?” Baekhyun glanced up at you, reached to take the book from your hands. “Having lunch together means conversation, are you going to read?”

“Give the book to me, Byun.” you kicked his foot under the table. “I know you do not know how to read and enjoy but that’s a good habit to have.”

“Yeah, I know that habit of you gives nothing but lonely hours in library.” he had no limits of shooting his arrows. “Have you ever tried something different for a change?”

“Like what?” you tried to get back your book. “Following your great example and dedicate my life to your favourite sport? Sorry, I have no interest in running after women by lolling my tongue out of my mouth.”

“Baby girl,” Baekhyun put your book in his leather bag. “You have no idea whose tongue lolls out of the mouth.”

You could not decide on what you hated the most. Baekhyun or the girls after Baekhyun? You concluded as both of them were equally horrible in your eyes.

“I am sure your stories are incredible.” you inhaled. “But I really do not like to hear the anecdotes of miserable women. Could you give the book back before I gauge your eyes off?”

“Nope.” he grinned. “I can bet on you are still a virgin but tell me if you have an affair or not, I would like to pay my condolences to your partner.”

He was already written as the first name in your list of most-hated-people, but suddenly became the first man to be written as the first enemy of a lifetime.

“Did you finish your own list of dead partners?” you raised one eyebrow. “Thinking of its length gives me chills.”

“No dead.” his grin widened from one ear to the other. “They just had some temporary heart problems due to the performances I gave to them.”

You opened your mouth to slap his face with the words, but the waitress came back to your table with a huge tray. She was placing every bowl and plate, actually fucking Baekhyun with her eyes, you literally hardly suppressed your instincts, telling you to warn her immediately.

But you were not honest with yourself about why you wanted to warn her. In the deep of your mind, but in very deep, you had been starting to realize that you disliked when the girls threw themselves to Baekhyun because you wanted them to stop. You did not like the scene because you did not want to share Baekhyun’s gaze with another person.

You were lying to yourself without realizing what was the real problem of you.

You loved Baekhyun from the beginning, even though he was a fucking tease and a bloody smartass. There was no other man for you, if someone could cut your chest, the only thing would be seen in your heart was his name.

But that would be the heaviest self-enlightenment, and you were definitely not ready for such as a thing. That’s why you unconsciously continued to trick yourself by disguising your own feelings from your own eyes.

You got the chopsticks and decided to have your lunch instead of burying yourself in the maze of thoughts. Baekhyun realized your discomfort, but he had no idea what the real reason of your mood was, whatever made you unhappy was more than okey for him. He could be happy as long as you were sorrowful.

“You still not give an answer to the question.” he was persistent on pushing your limits. “Do you have a relationship?”

“Why are you curious?” you took a mouthful amount of jjangmyeon. How much you wanted to stuff these noodle strings into his throat, suffocating him to death. “If you want to send a bouquet, please note that I love blue roses.”

“You are really a virgin, huh?” Baekhyun diabolically grinned, you could swear on you saw the red halo over his head.

“Darling, you cannot make me angry by stating what is obvious.” you smiled back, there was no reason holding it back, you were always open on these issues, and a sick part of you wanted to tell him to see his reaction. “Yeah, I am a virgin.”

“Do you conservatively follow a church?” his chin dropped a few inches. “How could it be possible with all the boys who try to seduce you?”

Well, you did not expect to hear this.

“Come on,” Baekhyun continued. “I always see you with a bunch of men, do you really think they are following you only for friendship?”

“On the contrary of you and your limit-does-not-exist type of libido, people can build the bonds of affinity.”

“Only when they do not search for an open door to sneak in.” Baekhyun pointed his chopsticks to your face. “Telling you, I can name at least six permanent names in the waiting room.”

You did not see the hidden meaning of his words, however, Baekhyun was already became regretful, he silently prayed for your ignorance and blindness were going to keep him safe. Because he gave you the biggest clue of his interest in you by stating he could give even names.

He still did not understand how he could know everything about you or why he always put a brick on the ways of the candidates for you, but he did. Hell, he was unapologetically finding a way to prevent the boys who liked you and no one could understand it was Baekhyun. He always came up with a solution in order to intimate them, put them back off. You were not aware but Baekhyun always appeared around you when he thought a candidate was close to you more than he supposed to be.

He already put his stamina on you as his girl, but he was not aware of his own actions. He was not aware of what he has been doing, how he was persistently looking for you, searching for your face in every class or harmoniously living with your voice. It was like your breathing was singing to his ears, and he was dancing with your melody.

Baekhyun did not understand but he was yours.

“I am not sure what you think,” you sipped from jasmine tea with self-confidence. “But there is no such a fucking waiting room.”

“You are really blind.” Baekhyun chewed a rice cake, generously dipping it into the gochujang sauce. “Don’t you think Oh Seunghwan is acting like more than a friend? Or Jang Jeongbun? Jesus, even you really cannot be that much idiot.”

Baekhyun was right for the first time in history. You were nothing more than a retard because you really did not understand the behind the scenes of his words. He was unconsciously giving you the signs of his interests in you, but you were so naïve to see.

“They are my friends, Baekhyun.” you rolled your eyes back. “I know grasping the nature of different relationships is hard for you, but people can be nothing but friends. No need to add tensions or searching for hidden meanings.”

Every time you vocalized his fucking name, Baekhyun felt its impact went straight to his dick, and he hated himself for that.

You were not the type of people who could be okey with the target of teasing. You wanted to play, you wanted to be enhanced by it, sinking into the waves of the game.

And even Baekhyun did not admit it in his head, he believed you were the most attractive girl he has been known because of you always corresponded to his moves and cards.

“How about you?” you immediately played your reverse card, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I heard that you and your gorgeous looks which made entire school swoon and fantasize about you? Are you really called as the sexiest human being on the country?”

Your voice was the strongest indicator of your disbelief, he could be the biggest moron on planet Earth, nothing more nothing less.

Also, you were aware of those comments on Baekhyun more than you wished for. You kept everything you heard about him in your head, in the safest and the most secret file of your brain, refusing to think but keeping on unconsciously think about those speculations. You found them very suspicious, but not because of Baekhyun did not deserve to be called as the sexiest human being, you found those fantasies as unlikely because of Baekhyun had not that macho man stuff people were somehow attributing to him.

You had grown so sick from all of these dreams and comments, coming from every corner of school since Baekhyun was like a star.

And now, you had him seemed quite displeased with your tease.

“Only on the country?” he raised one eyebrow. “Shit, it seems I am not doing well.”

“Baby, you are coming after Park Chanyeol.” you sighed in joy of dancing on your tiptoes. “That’s a quite achievement, when you think.”

“Chanyeol?” he sighed in annoyance; you knew that you trapped his ego in a small box. “Coming after Chanyeol?”

“Yeah.” you gave the most nonchalant look to him. “Well, I can tell that’s quite unfair since Flower Boys includes really strong names such as Kyungsoo or Junmyeon but… Poor girls, they have to be lunatic to put you after Chanyeol.”

“What do you think about these extremely distorted images of us?” Baekhyun angrily took a mouthful of jjangmyeon.

“Do you ask my list?” you crossed your hands over your chest, cooing with gleamy eyes. “I cannot believe that Byun Baekhyun, asking me, a poor peasant, for her list.”

Baekhyun’s eyes darkening, and you were not sure why your mood was changed from the pure need of mocking him to an excitement which you could not ignore. His voice was really screechy and boyish when he asked your list, and his voice giving you a different kind of pleasure. Not the pleasure of scolding him, but the delight of toying him, pushing him to the edge.

But you did not analyse your current feelings, instead, you rushed to deliver your actually-not-existent list.

“We are talking about physical features, right? But I am going to rate everyone also with their characteristics.” you smiled. “For me, the first name is Chanyeol. I mean, look at that face he has, and his body ratio is excellent, but he has a golden heart. Then, of course Kyungsoo, he is fucking handsome, therefore, he is a great guy.”

“I really pity your tastes of men.” Baekhyun’s discontent with your made-up list was palpable, and the dissatisfaction of his tone was like honey left out in the morning sun.

“The number 3 is Junmyeon as always.” you wholly ignored his comment. “No one can say anything against to Kim Junmyeon, he is the definition of aesthetic. Minseok and Jongdae shared the same number in my list, and that’s all.”

“You forgot me.” Baekhyun snorted, his voice made you lifted your head. He was so tense; you never see his jaw clenched at this expand. What’s up his ass? you silently though in your head.

“I did not.” you were cool as a cucumber. “You are not in the list.”

Till now, you guys always ate each other, digging the graves for each other, always fighting always scolding always throwing invisible daggers to each other. However, you have never ever seen those dangerous lights, dancing in the pupils of Baekhyun after your words.

It was difficult to wrap your mind around the fact that you found this Baekhyun as more attractive than his usual-self and unfortunately you already found Baekhyun very desirable. Even though you would never even let yourself to think about being intimate with him, his eyes stirred something inside of you, ignited some fires close to your lower stomach.

“I am sorry to hear that.” you also never heard this cold voice tone of Baekhyun, and you heard almost every negative version of Baekhyun’s voice which he spared only to use against you. “Let’s finish the meals, we have to be back to work.”

“Yeah.” you nod, lightly smiled. You managed to make him mad, you achieved your goal to annoy him so bad.

Why did you feel bad?

Why did you want Baekhyun to continue on the game?

Why did you feel regretful?

Why did you want to cry?

When Baekhyun’s phone started to ring, you almost completed every house in the list Junmyeon gave to you.

And you spent the last two hours in a total silence. It was eerily, Baekhyun’s lips firmly presses into each other like he sworn on not to talk again. You were not so different, but inside of your mind, something was gnawing your inner peace.

You were not happy, even you coped with the most difficult task, shutting Baekhyun’s mouth.

But you were not happy. You did not feel like you got the prize.

Instead…

You were extremely sad, and you felt like you let the trophy to slid between your fingers.

You had to feel like you hit the jackpot, but quite opposite, you were miserable.

You were especially afraid of losing Baekhyun’s attention, your own heart was aching at the way you told him off.

Still, you were lying to yourself and trying to conceal what made you afraid, you were not honest to your conscious, however despite of your efforts, you knew something was wrong with you after his transformation after you showed him the door.

You were a coward; you were not accepting the solid fact that you were in love with Byun Baekhyun and what made you afraid was nothing but losing him.

However, you were also sure on Baekhyun had a place in your head, making you shutter, had you shaking in your shoes. You could not name where to put his name, but you knew he had a place in your life.

And you were horrified by the possibility of losing the chance of hearing his voice. Even if his cocky remarks were the only words you could rip from him.

“Yeah?” Baekhyun answered to the call, for a second, you were happy to hear his voice again, but he walked towards to the last house you had to visit without waiting for you. He did not do this, even in the beginning of the day. You took a deep breath, you did not know why the heck you were really sad for his sudden coldness, godfuckingdamnit didn’t you hate and always despise each other? You mentally slapped yourself to gather yourself up, but it was pointless, you rushed to catch him.

You were aware of there was a painful squeeze in your chest, but you could not understand the reason of its presence or how you could get rid of that.

“Junmyeon told us to retreat.” Baekhyun informed you without looking at you. “After this house, we have to run back to the meeting point.”

“Okey.” you nod, hated the meek voice tone you produced but your mind was not on the case, you were questioning your own feelings and firm beliefs about Baekhyun.

Baekhyun was not better, to be honest, he was worse than you.

When you nonchalantly told him he was not in your list, he wanted to puke everything he devoured during lunch even though tteokbokki was his favourite food. He wanted to punch himself on the face when you counted the members of your fucking list, he wanted to smack his head into the table.

Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Damnit, even Junmyeon found his way to sneak into your list, but Baekhyun was not there.

He was always sure of he would be landed in every list, but he never think that being in your fucking list was the most important for him.

Why did he care if you were not seeing him as a man or not?

This question swirling in his head had his mind shattering.

As much as he was happy to see you wiggling like a worm under the fires, he could not control his reactions against the problem. When he saw you trembling over a case, he was the first one always popped out of nowhere to fix the problem in the darkness and never let you learn that it was him. He did not let even Junmyeon to help you, putting aside Chanyeol or Kyungsoo.

Baekhyun was the one who had been saving your ass like he was your invisible rescue call.

But you did not name him in your fucking list.

It drove him into crazy. The lack of your attention. He never mean that alerting you on his helps or care for you, but at the same time, he never think that his efforts would be equal to nothing.

He hated himself as much he hated you.

While you were walking back to the meeting point, both of you were lost in your own darkest thoughts. You were carefully paying the attention in order to not to have immersed each other, however both of you wanted nothing but screaming to each other, enough to have the fiercest fight till now.

You wanted to lose yourself in Baekhyun just like he was dying to bury himself into you for his dear life. However, both of you were very good at muting the voices of your hearts and minds.

“Indy! Baekhyun!” you heard Minseok, turning to his voice. “It is going to be a blizzard; we have to find a shelter.”

“Ha?”

“The forecast was clear as fuck.” Chanyeol pointed Junmyeon who was glued to his phone. “Jun is looking for a hotel for us since we could not go back.”

“We can take the cabs?” you were puzzled, a blizzard would be bad, but it did not mean that you had to spend the night here. “I mean, we are not living in a different city.”

“Yeah, you are right.” Shinhye crossed her arms over her shoulders, trying to keep herself warm. You had to admit, although you did not feel it till now, the weather was really cold. “But the cab drivers refused to drive into the city center. They advised us to stay here.”

“How about using metro?” you asked. “It is not so hard.”

“If you want,” Junmyeon hissed at you, holding the phone over his shoulder for a second. “You can try your chance, Indy. However, we are going to spend the night here. Safe and warm.”

“He is right.” Kyungsoo smiled at you. “I prefer to be warm and dry, sorry.”

You took a look at the team, and everyone was approving Kyungsoo’s words like they were bloody zealots.

“Okey, dumbasses.” you sighed in annoyance. “But we do not have even fucking pyjamas.”

“You can always take your clothes off.” Chanyeol winked at you. “Who says you need a pair of pyjamas to sleep?”

“Shut the fuck up, Chanyeol.” a sudden blush spread over your cheekbones, Chanyeol could not help but burst into laughs.

Baekhyun was determined to ignore you, but he could not help himself.

“Yeah, number one.” he muttered between his teeth, enough to be heard only by you. “Golden heart.”

Your chin was dropped for a few inches after hearing his annoyed voice tone and vindictive comment.

Could it be the reason of his unexpected coldness?

Could he be jealous of your invalid expressions and your fake list?

No way.

He could not be.

Your heart skipped the order of beats.

“Okey,” Junmyeon interrupted your thoughts. “We are going, if we are lucky, we will be in the hotel before the bloody snow will sweep down on us.”

“Let’s go!” Shinhye grabbed your hand, dragging you beside of herself. You submissively followed her footsteps; however, your mind was distracted by Baekhyun’s last words.

Could it be?

“This is heaven.” Jongdae rubbed his tummy. “Thank you, Jun!”

“No problem.” Junmyeon smiled and looked at all of you, to be honest, after a really good and delicious dinner, everyone was knocked out over the table.

Except you and Baekhyun.

“If you want you can go to your rooms.” Junmyeon said. “Since we were fortunate to find a single room for each of us, I do not think we have to play rock-paper-scissor.”

“Ah, having a room for myself.” Minseok laughed. “I do not have to hear your snorts, Junmyeon.”

They were sharing the same flat, everyone laughed after his teasing, Junmyeon too.

“Look who is talking.” he beamed. “I am so happy that I am going to have one night without your damn showering rituals.”

“Tell us about it.” Jongdae whined. “Pleeeassse.”

While Junmyeon and Minseok had been giving details of their flatmate stories to the team, making everyone to enjoy the environment, you were deeply sink into the pool of thoughts.

What a day, you thought. And why I feel like I am desperate?

Also, Baekhyun was not enjoying the unexpected banquet, instead he was quite enough to draw attention to himself. Chanyeol was on the verge of asking what the heck was wrong with him, but Kyungsoo kicked him under the table, pointed you with his eyes. Chanyeol’s wit quickly grabbed the matter, and he devilishly grinned.

You gave a hard day to Baekhyun, and he had no intention to change a thing between you and Baekhyun.

He always believed that you were secretly liking each other, but as you were nothing but stubborn bastards, you concealed your feelings towards each other.

Chanyeol definitely had zero motive to interrupt the fight between you, if it meant you would understand your mutual feelings.

Junmyeon also sensed the tension between you and Baekhyun, but he was not the type of persons who could wait on his corner.

“Baekhyun? Baekhyun!” Junmyeon called out him, waking him up. “How was your day? Why you guys are silent as dead?”

“We completed the task.” Baekhyun answered sourly, the corner of his mouth jumping downwards faintly. “As you assigned me and her.”

Baekhyun deliberately avoided using the pronoun of us.

“And it was a hell of task.” he continued. “I am so tired.”

“Even if you are fucking tired,” Jongdae raised a rejection. “You never shut your mouth, tell us what the heck is gnawing you?”

The bloody girl who sits next to you, Baekhyun thought but he was clever enough to keep the filter between his mouth and brain as valid.

“The girl I gave a promise for this night.” he forced himself to beam. “Because of this fucking weather, I have to arrange another meeting with her.”

Your heart churned, his reply had you wanting to slap your face. Harshly.

And you thought that he could be jealous because you named Chanyeol!

You were nothing but such an idiot.

An idiot who did not know a single piece of shit but acting so superior.

You were a goddamn idiot.

Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed after hearing Baekhyun’s shitty words, Kyungsoo wanted to punch Baekhyun’s face so bad, Junmyeon’s dislike of Baekhyun was obvious but he did not say anything, just sighed in desperation.

You felt nothing but another flash of pain as someone hit your abdomen.

“Are you okey, Indy?” Jongdae leaned over to you, whispering. You shook your head positively, smiling slightly. “You did not throw yourself into even desert.”

Your love for deserts was not a secret amongst your friends as Shinhye, sharing Jongdae’s concerns, handed you a bunch of cloudy puffs, filled with lemon cream. You took one of them, although you had no appetite, you forced yourself to eat the puff in order to put your friends at ease.

He was your biggest enemy and rival, right?

Why you were so devastated, almost on the verge of being hysterical?

You were not aware of you had been hypocritical with your feelings, and you were running away from your own heart. That’s why your hands were shaking, your heart was drumming into your ribs and aching as hell.

You were not ready to face with your heart, but you were also too naïve to save yourself from the pain it caused.

“Was he really harsh on you?” Jongdae murmured, his eyes was nothing but full of worries. “I am sure you could put him in his place but still…”

“He was not.” you said. “And you know me, nothing cheers me up but kicking his ass.”

“Glad to hear that.” Jongdae inhaled but the worries did not leave his face. “So why are you so down?”

“I am really tired today.” you sighed, tucking another puff into your mouth as you mentally punched your face in order to take the fucking control of yourself. “But if I will eat enough amount of these pastries, I will be like a bomb.”

“You are already like a bomb.” Minseok joined into the chat. “You look like on the verge of exploding.”

You unwillingly laughed at his damn right assumption.

“You know what?” you sniffed. “I am dying for a good drink. Would like to join me for a soju break?”

There was no single soul who could oppose to propose of grab a drink in your team. Jongdae jumped out of his chair, Shinhye was born ready and Minseok was the strongest drunkard.

“We are heading to the bar.” Minseok happily announced. “If you guys want to join, perfect, if not, good night to all.”

You were always impressed by the eagerness of Sejong Team to jump into any opportunity for a drink. Everyone, every single soul of this team, had a strong will to consume a respectable amount of alcohol. Less than a minute, everyone gathered up and headed to the elevators in order to visit the terrace of the hotel.

You had been wondering how rich Junmyeon was, even though he was a senior in college, or which kind of relations he had under his belt.

Jesus, you could not pay your attention during the dinner, however the hotel you had been staying was nothing but a touch of luxury. You had a strong guess on the payment bill of this place, however you preferred to keep it to yourself as you knew that Junmyeon did not like talking about the wealth lies beneath his fingertips.

But the bar was intimating.

Minseok, Jongdae and Kyungsoo were having a fierce conversation about the administrative offices of Roman Empire, Shinhye were with Junmyeon as they were talking on the next project that they aimed to present for the Head of Department. Chanyeol, only God knew how the heck he found that, was playing a guitar and you, as dwelling in an extremely comfortable armchair, tucked yourself into a blanket like a sushi roll, were enjoying the sudden calmness around yourself. The dim lights, from the chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, casting mirages across the hall, showing the wooden tables scattered between the chairs and beautiful, fresh cut flowers in their elegant vases.

It is not Korean but Chinese or Japanese, you thought, however with your bad eyesight, making an observation about the porcelain and its design was impossible. Also, you were a little bit slothful at the very moment to move your butt, you wanted to indulge in the soju you were holding, not anything else.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, warm but unfamiliar, your head jerked to face the owner of touch.

Baekhyun was looking at you, however his eyes were different from his usual self. There was no intention to mock with you, his eyes were clear as the snow drops that covering the streets right now.

“May I sit?” Baekhyun asked to you, catching you off guard with an unexpected kindness. You nod, feeling a sudden increase of the level of excitement, but kept your mouth shut. “Thank you.”

Thanking you? Byun Baekhyun?

You perked up, starting to prepare yourself for the fight, despite of the considerable amount of soju flowing in your veins, you were ready to guard yourself.

His elbow brushed your forearm when he was rolling his body in order to adjust the chair next to you.

You were shocked by the reaction your body gave to the moment, the only thing he did was sitting on a fucking chair, but your cheekbones were on fire.

His hips, damn his hips your inner voice was hysterically whispering in your head.

“May I ask to which muse I owe this honour?” you searched Baekhyun’s eyes for a glint of dismissiveness, however this was the very first time you have been the target of sincere, chocolate brown and deep irises.

“I have a question for you.” Baekhyun quickly ignored your offensive joke. “Why I am not in your list?”

He may as well have tossed you inside of a volcano, kicking you into the pool of lava, the impact would be the same. Your heart prompted to your stomach, they churned together, your throat and lungs tightened so bad, enough to cut your air by yourself.

You open your mouth, but nothing come out, just a bubble.

“I do not know how to translate that.” he sneered however you were at a loss. You could expect a lot of words from Byun Baekhyun but questioning the reason of his absence in your fucking list was not one of them.

“There is—” you bite your lower lip to stop yourself, you were on the verge of confessing that there was no list, you just tried to poke his ego, but thank God, you still had a piece of sanity to hold on. “I do not understand. Why do you care my list?”

Do I look like I fucking know? Baekhyun wanted to shake your cage, he wished nothing but screaming at you with all power he had in his lungs. He had no idea why he was mad at you, but he was out of rage and the only reason was you.

“Because I am curious.” he leaned his elbows onto his knees, cocking one eyebrow to you. “And what I hate most is being ignorant to a case.”

“I know.” you spoke without thinking, your mind was delving into the current problem you had in order to find a balanced answer, so you did not realize what you exactly said.

Unfortunately for you, Byun Baekhyun did not become your biggest rival by being blind or deaf.

His lips slightly curled upwards.

But the gentleman he could be, he did not corner you for the time being.

“So?”

It did not mean he would not try to push you in order to get what he wanted.

“Is there a rule saying that every human being has to be interested in you?”

You were not aware of it, but your voice was cracking, and your breathing became heavier, quickened and there was a sheen of sweet on your forehead.

To your dismay, Byun Baekhyun did not unconsciously mark you as his girl without studying you to the bits.

“Humanity is a different topic.” he widely smiled. “I wonder about you, sweetheart.”

Your breath stuck in your lungs because of the endearment, even though you were aware of his teasing of you.

“You are not my type, Byun.” you dead serious.

“Ah, your type is Chanyeol, right?” he smirked, turning his head to the tall brunette who indulged himself into the guitar. “Should we alert him to your interest in him?”

“Goddamn, no!” you hissed at him. What kind of trouble he was aiming to knit on your head? “Do you know the definition of privacy? You are invading personal boundaries, dumbass.”

“I do not think so.” Baekhyun shrugged his shoulder. “If you like Chanyeol, Chanyeol has the right of be aware of your interest.”

“Okey, even a scoundrel like you cannot be crossing the limit of respect like this.” you moved to stand up, giving the most dangerous look to Baekhyun. “I do not have to lis-

“Hey, Chanyeol!” Baekhyun called him with a high-pitched voice. Chanyeol lifted his head, distracted by the unexpected scream of Baekhyun.

“What?”

“Nothing!” your hand immediately tugged onto Baekhyun’s knee, squeezing it tightly in order to warn him. “You are playing so good, keep going!”

Chanyeol laughed at your words.

“You do not have to scream like that, Goddamnit.”

“Tell it to your friend.” you rolled your eyes back, fuming with anger but covering your face pretty well. You turned to Baekhyun, your eyes telling him that he was in serious danger if he was not going to shut his fucking mouth up.

Baekhyun did not care your silent warning, but your hand on his knee was a real distraction for him.

“I know that he is not your type.” he murmured, watching your hand, small, pale, and soft, Baekhyun did not want to confess but he wanted to latch your fingers to his. “Is it Kyungsoo?”

“Do I interrogate your preferences of girls, damn?” you literally gritted between your teeth. “Leave it.”

“I have no intention.” Baekhyun turned to Kyungsoo, narrowing his eyes. “Let’s ask if you are Kyungsoo’s type.”

“What the fuck are you, cupid?!” you grunted, and your hands moved without your consent. You grasped Baekhyun’s jawline, your fingertips were brushing his ears. “I said, leave it.”

“If you want to shut my mouth,” Baekhyun beamed, ignoring the fact that your touch meant for a lot than he could expect, he was going to think about it later. “Tell me why I am not in your list.”

“No one can desire someone like you!” you exploded. “An arrogant, dandy, selfish boy who does not know nothing but bringing trouble to others. That’s why you can never be in my list, even I have to choose between you and an octopus. For the records, I hate octopus, but I would go for it, if it means the other option is you.”

“Oh, you hurt me.” Baekhyun’s eyes glimmered with the sparks of unnamed feelings. He leaned forward, enough you to feel his breath fanning your lips. “You know what, sweetheart? You are so aggressive only when you have a secret which have to stay only in your head.”

“W-what?”

“I am definitely in that list.” Baekhyun claimed it with confidence, but it was just the appearance. Inside him, his heart was definitely shuttering, cracking into pieces, he had no control over himself, he could not understand his sudden behaviours. “I am in your list, if there is a list.”

Your eyes widened, and pupils blown up.

“Jesus.” you snorted. “When you lost your fucking mind?”

“You are a pretty bad liar.” Baekhyun was making assumptions out of his ass in order to get a reaction from you, he was not fucking sure if he was in the list or not, but everything he said actually rang the true bells.

“And you are a lunatic.” your intense eyes pinned him down, and the frowning lips caught your attention, but you forced to came back to your senses as soon as possible. “You will never be anything more than a lunatic.”

You attempted to stand up, but he was incredibly swift to catch your wrist, pressing you back to the armchair.

“Tell me, sweetheart.” he held your wrist for his dear life, caging you and to your disappointment, coming closer to your face, causing your ability of speaking to be faded immediately.

His godfuckingdamnit lips.

“You have been having doubts on me since the day we met, your driving force is giving me hard time.” his breathing was fanning your cheekbones. "Confess now, why are you pissed at me all the time?”

“Hell, you do talk like you are so different. Aren’t you the one who always finds a way to be trouble for me?” you raised one eyebrow, letting him to realize the game was reserved for two people. “If it means liking someone, since when you have been fallen in love over heels with me?”

“You have no idea how much I want to place your heels over my shoulders.”

Your chin was dropped, his words had you turning into a mummy who was trying to register into his remarkable sentence without a single brain cell.

You had to come up with the best answer you could give. You had to find the best response to him, and it had to be a perfect balance of sharpness, cockiness, and matureness as it had to be said with the resting bitch face.

And you heard your own voice.

“Ha?”

“You heard what I said.” Baekhyun intensively gazed at you, the proximity between your bodies had your body quivering and trembling at the same time and his fucking knee slightly, almost insensibly pushed your legs apart.

“You are really nonsensical, Baekhyun.” you inhaled, doing your best in order to ignore all the jolts all over your body, numbing your mind but also setting the skin on fire. Every time you said his name, Baekhyun felt something turning in his lower stomach. “What the fuck you want from me?”

“You did not name me in your list.” You could not believe your fucking eyes, more importantly, you could not believe you were still listening his gibberish like a kindergarten kiddo. “But, I am better than everyone else here.”

His voice dropped the slightest, making you shiver.

“Would you like me to prove it to you?”

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Come Hell or Helwater - Part Sixteen

Claire comes back to the past with Brianna and arrives at Helwater looking for Jamie—but must confront the Dunsanys first.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen

This installment is kind of inspired by and therefore dedicated to all the parents out there who have been put into the position of homeschooling their children due to current circumstances. ~ Mod Lenny

********************************************************

With Lady Isobel gone to stay with her sister, Brianna’s education fell back to Claire and Jamie. 

At first, Claire worked with Brianna during the day while Jamie was busy with the horses. She reviewed mathematics and gave Brianna some problems to solve before changing their attention to science. Even if Brianna hadn’t requested it, Claire would have insisted upon teaching her daughter as much 20th century science as she could. 

When Jamie returned for lunch and dinner, Brianna would tell him about what she had learned and then in the evenings, he would work with her on languages, reading and classical history. 

Brianna and Claire played a game when Jamie wasn’t around where she would toss out a historical event and Brianna had to guess whether or not it had happened yet. Once, Brianna asked about changing history and whether it was possible. Claire offered an abridged account of her own attempts at changing things with Jamie’s help.

“Perhaps it was only that we tried to change an event that was too large,” Claire admitted with a shrug. “There were too many forces pushing it to happen and we couldn’t stop enough of them. Perhaps, if we’d tried with something smaller and more insignificant, we would have succeeded and eventually its consequences would have snowballed into larger changes decades from now. Or perhaps it isn’t possible at all.”

“Maybe the things you could change of the ones that don’t make it into history books at all,” Brianna guessed. “Then you wouldn’t know if you were changing anything or not.”

“Maybe,” Claire agreed with a smile. 

But while Jamie would probably have happily skipped learning the history-yet-to-come that fueled their game, his curiosity got the better of him when it came to Brianna recounting what Claire was teaching her of science. 

“And why are ye growin’ mold on bread?” Jamie asked, turning from Brianna to Claire. But Brianna answered. 

“There’s a special kind that squirts out stuff that keeps you from getting sick,” she explained, causing Claire to laugh and Jamie to quirk an eyebrow.

“Lord John has agreed to help me acquire a microscope,” Claire told him. “And if it works well enough, I should be able to find — or at least try to find — the strain that secretes what will one day be called penicillin. It’s an antibiotic that can help prevent and cure infection.”

“The wee bit of mold will do all that?” he asked in wonderment. 

Claire smiled, carrying a plate with freshly cut (and mold free) bread to put on the table before him. She stayed standing behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders and leaning in close to add, “And it’s a Scot who’ll discover it. In about a hundred and fifty years’ time.” She kissed his cheek and gave him a pat on the back before moving to take her own seat and dig into the meal.

“And you plan to find it and… use it?”

“Of course. I’ll need to fashion some kind of hypodermic needle eventually, but an oral administration is better than nothing. The acid in the stomach breaks it down a bit so its effects aren’t as fast or strong,” she rambled. 

Jamie sat nodding, watching her as he chewed. 

“When did you say Lord John would send you the microscope?” Brianna asked around a full mouth. 

Claire frowned at her and swallowed her own mouthful before replying, “Within the month. I’m hoping it will be closer to a fortnight but either way, it doesn’t hurt to start a few cultures so I have something to try right away. As soon as it arrives, we’ll go around collecting samples we can use to calibrate the microscope. Trough water, goat’s milk… we’ll see if we can find some algae on the rocks in the stream and maybe some plant spores or flower pollen…”

“I can bring ye some of the muck from the stalls if that would be of interest to ye,” Jamie offered. 

Claire beamed while Brianna grimaced at the thought. Jamie laughed, joined by Claire when she saw Brianna’s disgusted expression (only some of which was about Jamie’s offer and the rest by her mother’s obvious intention to take him up on it). 

“I cannae wait to see what ye find wi’ the microscope,” he said with excitement. 

********************************************************

The microscope arrived from Lord John about three weeks later, when Brianna’s frustration at its delay had begun to negatively affect her attitude (and Jamie and Claire’s by extension). 

It arrived while Jamie was busy at the stables. When he returned to their small cottage for his midday meal, he instead found Claire bent over the table setting it up and Brianna hovering like a butterfly, too excited to land anywhere for long. 

“Shall I fetch something from Cook in the kitchen then?” he asked, announcing his entrance. 

“Would you?” Claire asked gratefully, adjusting a mirror and inching a candle (burned to a low nub) closer. “I’ve got it nearly there… I don’t want to move it to lay anything out yet.”

“Bree,” Jamie jerked his head back toward the door. “Come help me carry it.” 

“You don’t need help carrying anything from the kitchen,” she whined. “I wanna stay and look through the microscope when Mama’s got it ready.”

“She’s like to have it ready by the time we return and we can find something from Cook tha’s worth a keek through the microscope,” he assured her, heading into the room and herding her out of the cottage. 

He glanced to Claire as he reached to close the door behind them. She was watching him leave mouthing, “thank you,” and smiling. It warmed him through, easing the tired tension in his arms and back from his morning’s work. 

Brianna chattered away as they walked to and from the kitchens, fetching some bread, cheese, and cold meat left from Lord and Lady Dunsany’s meal. 

“Insist on the full spread though Lady Isobel’s away,” Cook muttered as she picked over the parcel she packed for them, retrieving stray bones she needed for making stock. 

Brianna carried the basket while Jamie carried some bottles with ale.

“I wonder if Mama will let us look at that under the microscope,” she mused, nodding to the bottles.

“I’d dinna ken as I want to see that just yet. If I’ve just had it to drink and the sight turns my stomach, I may see it in a still less flattering way… or if it would turn my stomach and I havena drunk it yet, then I’ll just go the day thirsty and I cannae do that wi’ an afternoon yet ahead of me,” he told her.

“Ugh, no. Nothing food or drink then for a while,” Brianna grimaced. 

Jamie chuckled, amazed at just how much the expression matched a common one of Claire’s. It was a constant wonder to watch and listen to Brianna. She was at once the embodiment of Claire, the mirror of himself, and yet something – or rather, someone – entirely her own. 

Claire didn’t look like she’d moved at all since they’d stepped out, but when she raised her head at their entrance her face was alight with triumph. 

“Care to take a look?” she asked Brianna. 

Jamie successfully grabbed the basket from her hands before Brianna could drop it or toss it aside in her haste. 

Claire gave him an apologetic look as she showed Brianna what to do and reminded her not to jar the table or the device. 

“Whoa… what is that?” Brianna gasped. 

“I had a vial on me the last time I went looking for mushrooms in the woods,” Claire explained. “There’s that shallow spot near the stream that’s basically a small stagnant pond. Since I had the vial and there was water in it, I thought I might as well take a sample.”

“Holy cow, they’re moving!”

Instincts startled into action by Brianna’s exclamation, Jamie darted to her side but Claire was grinning. 

“I know! I was worried anything alive in the sample would die before the microscope arrived. You’re looking at a paramecium. They live in the water and feed on bacteria, algae, that sort of thing.”

“I think it’s eating another one,” Brianna said with horror and panic in her voice. She looked to Jamie while Claire swept in to peek.

“It’s not eating the other one. It’s dividing. That’s how they reproduce,” she explained. 

Brianna looked again. “Da… you have to see this.” 

She backed away, offering him her spot. He looked to Claire with uncertainty, but she nodded and walked him through how he should adjust the scope to focus as he needed. She knew he found the right setting when she heard his quiet gasp. 

“And that wee thing lives in the water?” he asked carefully. 

“Not all water. But some microorganisms like this can make people ill. That’s why I always boil water for drinking and sterilize my medical instruments in boiling water. It kills the kinds of microbes that cause infection.” 

“So it’s one of yer germs, then… this paramecium…” 

“Not exactly. But it does eat some kinds of germs. I’m afraid this microscope isn’t strong enough to see the bacteria it feeds on. But it should do just fine for examining the molds to find the right one for penicillin,” she declared. 

“I’ll never again dip my hand to drink from a loch wi’out seein’ that wee thing in my mind’s eye,” Jamie said, sounding haunted and perhaps a bit queasy. 

“What’d you two fetch for lunch?” Claire asked, hungry now that success was achieved.

[the-wintershade]

— the sun goes down; he takes the day, but I’m grown

pairing: sam wilson x f!reader x bucky barnes summary: you meet him once at your favorite place and assume that you won’t meet him again, regardless of how good the conversation was, but alas, fate always seems to have other plans. wc: 6.8k+ (no self-control and I actually planned this series out) genre: slightly angsty, flirting, good banter, medium burn

Blue Shade: series — masterlist | 01

The room buzzes with the clanking of machines, snippets of conversation, and the quiet energy of caffeine tapping into the bloodstream, feet tapping against floors, legs bouncing uncontrollably. It would be lying if you claimed that you didn’t appreciate the white noise of it all. You could be standing in line, absentmindedly admiring the mahogany walls with original artwork in monotone shades and not worrying about seeming aloof or cold. 

This whole establishment was a piece of artwork, something to be admired by anyone who endeavored to traverse the outrageous traffic and lack of parking in New York. It gave you a sense of home and comfort among the noise, the energy vibrating through the air calming any rising anxieties.

You ordered your usual and stood, your computer bag slung over your shoulder and a light jacket hanging around your frame. It only took a few seconds to get your drink ready as they slid it across the metal counter, your name written in jagged script. “Started working as soon as I saw you walk in.” Mark, one of the baristas, smiles at you and you flash him a thankful grin back. “Where would I be without you?” 

He only smirks, returning to the espresso machine and preparing the next drink. Your first sip is heavenly, flavors traveling across your tongue at a lightning fast pace and blending into a richness and warmth that can only be attributed to the feeling of this place. Safe and comforting, inviting and welcoming.

You pick your usual seat, right up against the wall, resting against the wood that acts as a divider between the line and the seating area. The tables are all carved from trees with a cherry veneer whipped across before a sealing, clear coat. You run your fingers against the surface, searching for any lingering crumbs, but also to take in the feel, the smooth gloss against your hands, the sturdiness against your fingertips.

Somehow you wish you could take the emotions that rise as you come into this place with you as you go home, but you can’t. The only thing you can do is savor it all as you do the same thing every time you come in. 

You zip open your computer bag and pluck your laptop from its case, setting it on the table and waiting for it to boot to life. It whirls and displays a start up screen as you take another couple of sips of your drink, trying to make the cup last for the next hour or so you’ll spend here, glancing out the window at passing traffic. 

It’s a pain to find parking—you had to park a good way down the block just to make it here—but it’s all worth it. Just for this. Just for the feeling of sitting here and admiring the light outside as it splashes against the buildings, swathing them in wonderfully rich whites and browns and blues. The sunlight reflects against cars and shining sequins, its rays spreading every which way with its brilliance.

It’s wonderful.

Then your computer finally finishes its load up sequence as you dig around for your earbuds, fishing them out to plug into your phone, opening up a calming playlist as you click the web browser on your computer.

Today’s topic will be about how light plays an integral role in the consumer’s experience between the home and their enjoyment they get from it. You’re not a realtor per-say, but you have a deep respect for architecture and how it connects with people.

Just like this coffee shop is comforting to you, you wonder what are the elements that make buildings enjoyable for other people. Is it the light? Is it the noise level? Is it the people and culture that a building attracts? The location?

So in order to explain these questions, you’ve kept lists of them, stored on the hard drive of your phone in a note keeping app. Then, you come here, the place outside of your home that you enjoy coming to and focus an hour of your time on researching these things, discovering answers to problems and questions that need solutions. 

It’s relaxing, lets you get away from some of the problems that you might be having in daily life, like work or in your relationship. It gives you time to delve into something that doesn’t relate to you personally, gives you another subject to focus on while you strive to find those answers about personal issues that you can’t quite come up with yet.

Your music is calming, the various voices speaking around you fading away as you open ebook after ebook, article after article, searching for responses and research that points to a connection between light allowed in the house and customer satisfaction. Surveys come up, testimonials offered, research specialists all weigh in on the topic and you ravage through it all.

The explanation of the connection between sunlight and serotonin can’t be denied and even without the research, you’d be able to tell people that, yes, you’re much happier when out in daylight and fresh air. You feel better. The science is there to back it up, but what happens when architecture is applied?

What about the location of the home? The size of their windows? Where on earth they live?

What if they explored this furt-

“Hello.” The voice sounds foggy and far away and you draw an earbud out of your ear, gazing out of your article to find someone actually standing in front of you. “Sorry to distract you, but is this seat taken?” He gestures at the seat in front of you. 

You spare a glance around the restaurant for half a second and observe the empty tables lingering all around you, wondering why he would want to sit right in front of you when there’s all that space lingering around.

You nod, slowly, with apprehension, and scoot back to allow for more shared leg room. “Thanks.” He sits down as you write a few more notes onto a notebook you slipped out of your bag a few minutes ago, trying to keep your place and appear busy to him. 

If he were to try to strike up a conversation, at least you’d remember where you were and what you still needed to look up, but if he saw you writing furiously with that pen like your life depended on it, maybe he would leave you to your work.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

“Do you always sit here?” He sips on his drink encased in a white mug, sunglasses still resting over his eyes. His voice is kind, but holds weight to it, like he’s trying to pull you out of what you’re working on. You’re not rude, so you appease him.

“Yeah, it’s kind of my spot.” You smile and close your laptop, taking away the temptation to keep searching and just ignore him. You sip your drink in your paper cup and lean back, placing your pen back on the notebook, about ready to put your stuff away.

“Interesting.” He sits forward, pushing the sunglasses out of his eyes, the deep chocolate of them apparent to you now, not that you were looking that hard in the first place. You tell yourself that you definitely weren’t looking that hard. Or that you noticed the slight abrasions on his leather jacket. “You’re not the first to claim this table.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrows shoot up and you take a sip to hide your shock. “This is your spot too?”

“Clever girl.” He leans back and observes you and you laugh at his nonchalant approach to the situation. “Though, I do accept company every now again. Good to allow the table some exposure.”

“How gracious of you.” You muttered over the lid of the coffee cup while the stranger just smiles at you, appreciating your joke and humor in the situation. “I bet Rachel loves being introduced to new people.”

“How do you know her name?” He fakes surprise, setting down his mug. You nearly burst out laughing at his expression, all twisted with his mouth and eyes wide open. “That was supposed to be our little secret.”

“Well I happen to know Rachel pretty well, thank you very much.”

“I can see.” He narrows his eyes and leans back, looking down at the table as he shakes his head. “No loyalty.” He sips his drink, foam sticking to his lip. “Where’s the trust?”

You giggle and hand him one of your napkins, pointing to your upper lip. He gives his thanks as he wipes away the evidence.

You check your watch and jump at the time it reads. You were supposed to leave five minutes ago, planning to meet up with Bucky just down the block. Hastily, you grab your notebook, pen, and earbuds and stuff them into the right pockets. 

“Blowing this joint, huh?” He acts cool but you see the curiosity lingering behind his eyes and you stop for a second. 

“Um...yeah. I’m late to meet someone.”

“Do you need help with anything?”

You slide your laptop back into the bag. “No, but thank you. I appreciate it.” You grab your jacket from the booth beside you and slide it over your shoulders, the material scratching against your skin. “Take care of Rachel for me.”

You slide your bag over your shoulders and begin to walk out when he stops you. “Hey, Coffee Girl.” 

You turn and smile at him. “Yes, table parent?”

“When do you think we can discuss more options about custody over the table?” His smile is warm and there’s something else underneath. Something you don’t recognize, something that sounds like intrigue. You haven’t seen someone look at you with that in, well, a while. It nearly scares you right out of your skin.

“I’m..” Your voice begins to falter and you hang onto your coffee cup just a little tighter. Not out of a general fear of him, he seems really sweet and kind, but for yourself. No one, no one, ever looks at you like that. “I’ll probably be here, next week.” You manage to get out. “Same time.”

“Hmm.” He watches your demeanor change and his smile becomes less beaming, more soft and subtle. “May I ask for a number.” Your face erupts with astonishment, eyebrows shooting up. “Just to confirm, of course.” He adds, trying to placate your sharp change in expression.

“Um…” You look around to see people watching you and notice how awkward the situation is becoming. Closing your eyes for a brief second, you open them to see his smile now gone and replaced with confusion. “I’ll meet you here again and then I’ll swap digits.”

“Okay.” He nods, seeming still confused. “Have a good one.”

You want to punch yourself in the gut. 

“Yeah. You too.” You turn away and nearly run out of the coffee place, the bell ringing like a gong of judgement as you swing the door open just a bit too hard.

There was going to be nothing wrong with giving that man your number, nothing at all. There was just...just this feeling of overwhelming disbelief and a deep piercing sorrow at the fact that he wanted your number at all.

You didn’t see the conversation swerving in that direction. You liked him, thought he was great to talk to and seem genuinely interested and intrigued by what you were saying, but the thought of him having a deeper interest terrified you.

Because he didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

He didn’t know what a bore you were, let alone how uninteresting you could be. 

He wouldn’t be happy with someone like that. How could he be? He was the sun and you would only swallow him in shadow, drowning out his humor and smile and inescapable light.

He would die with you by his side.

He doesn’t want you, not really, because he doesn’t know you. Because he would be horrified by you.

…. 

“Hey, doll!” His eyes light up as he sees you, crinkling in the corners as he opens his arms wide to trap you within his embrace.

You loved when the bright blue of his eyes did that. Their shape turns into splits and his happiness seems to vibrate from his gaze into you, warming you up, making you feel alive. His arms are sturdy and warm, safe and bracing. You don’t feel like you could ever fall with him by your side.

But he smelt foreign to you, like jasmine and lavender. He always smelled like fresh pine and the forest. It was the thing you always loved about him.

He was corrupted, but he was still beautiful. Still the Bucky you knew.

“How are you?” He kept his hands resting on your arms, drinking you in, smiling down at your grinning figure. 

“Good. Are you ready to go?” He nods, slipping his hand in yours. “Where’d you go today?” You stare at your linked hands and grin, not noticing the way his mouth turns into a fine line before a small, pretend smile takes its place.

“Oh, just to the gallery down the street.” Your eyes snap to his and for just a split second, hurt crosses your features before you smooth it over. It all comes back to the gallery. Every single thing.

But if you ignore it, maybe he’ll still be happy with you, happy with the way things are. If you try to fuss about it, he’ll run away or get angry, and you don’t want that. You don’t want to see him upset. He’s not very reasonable when upset.

He seems to see how your face changes and silence takes hold as you walk down the street filled with warmth and sunlight. Although you feel his heat bleed into your hand, you feel as if you’re next to an iceberg, a stranger, someone you want to put distance between, not someone you feel you love.

Bucky shifts, reaching for something to soothe your hurt. “Come on, doll. Don’t be like that.” He laughs, and you try hard to believe him, to fill the air with your warm giggles, but you can’t. You're physically unable to. “She’s just a friend.”

Liar.

She’s not just a friend, no matter how much he tries to convince you. You don’t have any evidence to support your theory, not any true evidence that he can’t refute, but you know a bold faced lie when you hear one. 

That’s why you try to be good, be interesting, because maybe being interesting will bring him back to you, back to your side. 

He’s here now, but he’s never really here. He’s not as devoted to you as you are to him, but that’s your fault. You’re just not good enough for him, but you could be better. You can be better. You just have to show him.

You just have to hold on. Just give him a chance. Show him how exciting you can be.

Taking in a healthy breath of air, you sigh. “Right.” You shake your head as if you’re trying to clear these treacherous thoughts from your mind. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” You smile at him, as much attempting to convince him as you are trying to make it all right in your head. This is the correct way to handle things. This is how you pull him back. Just forgive and move on.

He relaxes at your acceptance, deflating at your calmed hostility. “You know you’re the only one for me.” 

“I know, Bucky.” You rub his arm and his happiness is not as apparent as his serenity over solving the previous conflict. He presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to your head, leaving an impression there that makes your skin crawl, but these feelings will dissipate as time goes on. 

Time will heal everything.

“You still remember that party tonight?” He drawls, as if proud that he’s secured an invitation. The party is for his friend at the art gallery, a celebration of her achievements. It’s supposed to be a small gathering, but with how many people were there at her opening, you would be shocked if the numbers were really that low.

You nod, leaning away from how Bucky’s face hovers so close to you. “Yep. I remember. I’ll be there.”

“Good.” He pulls you closer and you would be lying if you didn’t feel your stomach warm, butterflies recklessly taking flight without fear of slamming into the lining around your gut. 

Your chuckle isn’t quite a lie and Bucky catches on to your honesty, seeming to grow taller and believing himself completely absolved from all original misdeeds.

Then you hit him with your next topic. “A man tried to get my number today. At the coffee shop.”

He stops walking completely, his arm falling from around your shoulders. “He did what?” His voice is tightly coiled, ready to spring at any moment.

You keep walking, not waiting to see what his face would look like. You know his brows are well furrowed and eyes are dark, devoid of any lighthearted fun. They’re not the blue of a gentle stream but a churning and violent ocean. 

“Oh, come on, Bucky. I said tried. I didn’t give it to him.” You roll your eyes in front of him, turning to hold an arm, beckoning him forward and into your arms. He doesn’t move. You stop and cross your arms over your chest. 

“Don’t tell me that you did this to make me jealous.” His words carry bite, but they fall harmlessly from your frame made of metal and steel. Impenetrable. After what you’ve seen and know, nothing he could say or do to you could truly harm you.

“That’s rich, considering he asked me.”

He sees that his tone has no affect on you and stalks closer, ignoring your arm that now begins to fall back into its place by your side. “But you won’t go back there, right?” He grins, malice and hope curling together, like he wants to lure you into a complete false sense of security, urging you to agree. “You know how I don’t want anyone else stealing you away from me.”

He drips with imitation honey and you’re too smart to believe the gold of it is real. “Bucky, you know that’s my spot.”

“And I’m telling you, (name), that you can’t go back there.” His teeth make each syllable sharper and harsher, but it doesn’t scare you. 

But maybe if you back off, get him to stop fighting, he’ll just let this one go. You only told him just to make him aware, not to cause a real argument. This isn’t worth turning into a complete debacle. You’re not going to allow his anger to grow any larger.

“You can’t stop me from going there, but I won’t go back at the same time or on the same days. I probably won’t even bump into him again. It was the first time I’ve ever seen him there anyway.” You turn, holding out a hand to him that he takes and squeezes so hard your hand aches when he relaxes his grip.

“But,” He drills holes in the side of your head. “If you see him again, tell me.”

“Sure thing, oh great shining knight.” You nod fervently, like you’re completely devout to him. And in a way you are. There’s something about him that keeps you just hanging on, refusing to let him go completely.

He laughs with acid behind it. “You know I’m just trying to keep you safe.” He looks wounded as you spare a glance at him. “He might try to take advantage of you.”

“Well good thing you’re here then.” Your face adapts to pure happiness, his concern for you starting to trump all of these horrible things you’re beginning to feel. It always makes you feel important and wanted when his protectiveness jumps out, his vulnerability unlocking something in you. 

He grins just as strongly back at you, gently running circles over your hand. “What did he look like?”

“Bucky!”

“What?” He holds up his other hand, looking like he can’t understand what he’s done wrong. “I need to be ready in case you call.”

“Well I’m not the damn police. I wasn’t really looking that hard.”

“Oh cut that out. I know you got a good look at him.”

You sigh, thinking of a way to get out of having to actually answer his questions without him becoming angry again. You can’t, so you give him crumbs. “He had brown eyes, darker skin. Sunglasses.”

“Doll, I know you can do better than that.” He smirks but it’s strained. 

He doesn’t believe you.

“Not really.” And that’s kind of the truth. You weren’t really paying attention to his attire, besides the rip in his jacket. “I wasn’t really paying that much attention to him. Research remember?”

“Hm.” He consents. “I’ll give you that.”

You breath out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“But just remember to call me, alright?”

“Sure.”

“Doll.” He stops, turning to gaze deep into your eyes.

“Okay.” You hold up your hands and cross your fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

He searches your gaze for just the inkling of a false statement and doesn’t find it. “Alright. I trust you, doll. Don’t make me regret it.”

You nod, your stomach feeling just a little sicker as your hands rejoin and the sun begins to set, the buildings turning a deep shade of crimson.

…

The party is more like a college frat palooza than a respectable meeting for supporters of a budding artist. Red solo cups line the room and the kitchen is stocked with all sorts of wine, tequila, whiskey, and bourbon. 

Drinks for respectable people, of course.

Bucky already has a buzz going from taking two shots of whiskey before you even came to pick him up. You insisted on driving so he could enjoy the full effects of the alcohol before you even made it to the party. Somehow that BS worked and he was getting a little loopy and handsy before you made the door.

His hand now rested at a respectable place on your hip, but you had to keep his hand from drooping lower and lower. Now, his arms spread wide as he saw his red-haired friend, wrapping her into a hug and placing a bottle of rose into her hands. He spun out his congratulations in a slur of wonderfully crafted and charming phrases to which she blushed deeply at, at least until she saw you.

“Willow, this is (name).” He gestured back towards you and you stepped forward, shaking her hand with a polite smile on your face. Even her name was beautiful. Figures he would choose her.

Her smile was nice enough, but her eyes still dragged back to him, lingering on his beautiful face and warm eyes. Of course, any one would be drawn to him, you would be a fool if you ignored that, but there was just something a little too warm and knowing behind her stare. Like she was blushing at meeting her long-lost childhood love again.

It made you slightly sick but you ignored it and tried to send her your best in the only way you knew how. Words that weren’t quite a lie but still sounded nice. For the most part. “Congrats on your art display. Your work is very colorful and has a really cool avant-garde aspect to it. You really could be on to something, Willow.” You winked at the end and she laughed, seeming to take your compliment well.

“Thank you. I know it’s not super conventional, but I hope it opens a new interpretation into art.”

“I’m sure it will.” Yeah, if you’re a lunatic or a complete believer in work that makes absolutely no sense.

She grins and the room erupts in starlight. Her smile is like starting at jewels under direct light, beautiful and dazzling. No wonder everyone seems to gravitate to her. You start to fold inward while Bucky dismisses you, telling you to “make yourself comfortable” and  “introduce yourself to people.”

You nod and immediately make a B-line to the corner, standing away from all of the people in overly priced clothing and drinking strongly proofed wine. It’s not that you didn’t enjoy a good bottle of wine or even something stronger from time to time, but if you had ever learned anything from being in college, it’s that if you’re unsure of drinking something while you’re there, don’t drink it.

You briefly wonder if there’s a regular can of pop to be seen in this place.

Then you look at your surroundings, admiring the wood of the walls, the accent tapestries adorning them and then start to think that this girl might have good taste. The current tapestry you observe has burgundy and gold blended together in a beautiful amalgamation and you play with the strands between your fingers. It’s soft and strong, wonderfully crafted. 

The wood behind it is hard and sturdy, easy to run your fingers along and feel the stronger edges behind every cut. It’s beautiful. A good selection.

But there’s almost no windows. No light. No opportunity for incorporating the day with the dark atmosphere her home carries.

“(Name)! Come over here.” You sigh, peeved by your disturbance from being silent in your corner. You follow his voice till you’re beside him, letting him put an arm around your shoulders. “I want you to meet, Chris Tallow. He designed this place.”

Chris was probably one of the most famous architects in the whole state. Standing in front of him made your knees wobble. “Hello, nice to meet you.” You timidly were able to get out and he smiled warmly at you, reaching out to shake your hand.

“James tells me that you’re quite the architectural connoisseur.” He grins and you nod, enthusiastically.

“I love your work! It’s ingenious and visionary. It’s amazing how you’re able to work with multiple mediums and incorporate them seamlessly.”  The words pour out of your mouth before you’re able to stop them, now embarrassed at your unrestrained confession.

“Girl knows her stuff.” He seems impressed and appraises you accordingly.

“She’s quite the fan-girl.” Bucky laughs, pulling you a little closer. “She’s obsessed with buildings, sometimes in neglect of other things.”

You almost glare at him, but then you remember where you are and who you’re in front of, so you let out a reserved snicker and unwrap yourself from around him, Bucky a little uneasy on his feet. “Nice to meet you. Bucky you want anything to drink?” You look at him expectantly, but he just leans in and presses a kiss on your cheek, waving his cup.

You dismiss yourself again, frustrated with how he brushed your passion off like that.

You travel back to the kitchen, right about to pop the lid open again when you see the man from the cafe, staring you down. You duck under the table and try to catch your breath after the lightning bolt that went firing through your veins. What in the world is he doing at the flighty girl’s party? How does he even know her?

“Nothing you’re gonna want is in there.” He states plainly, but not in a rude way, just in a I-don’t-think-you’re-the-beer-type kind of way.

He would be right. “Oh,” You stand up, wiping the condensation on the fabric of your jeans, “Right.”

He watches you with such an unabashed directness that you can hardly breathe. He’s dressed in a tan leather jacket that sets off his deep red sweater and dark jeans nicely, pulling against his strong physique. He’s still as bright as you remember him to be and you’re lost as to what to say to him to continue the conversation.

The mystery man seems just as distracted  until he sets down his coke to reach into the fridge to pull out another one for you, handing it to you politely, fingers sparking as you hands graze. “Here.” 

“Thanks.” You mutter as you crack the can open and take a long sip, needing a distraction from the man in front of you and your growing unsteadiness around him. At least you have something in your hands that you can cling onto. “I didn’t think that opening a cold one with the boys would be the smartest thing I could do.”

He chuckles, warmth pouring out of him. “Me neither.” He leans against the counter as you drink, surveying the party and drawing his eyes away from you for a moment. It’s a relief as you still don’t think you’re going to be able to think straight. “Not one for parties?”

“What gave it away?” You speak, your voice warbling after your drink and you try to steady it, cringing heavily at its harsh quality.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. “In the corner. Where I usually take up my post.”

“Oh, don’t tell me the sunglasses aren’t a hit?” You lean next to him and his eyes graze yours with a twinkle. You smile back as his teeth shine against the hazy lighting the string of lights behind you provide.

“Well,” He leans a little closer, bumping his shoulder with yours. “I’ll give you a hint. It might not be the sun glasses.”

You gasp.

“I know. I know.” He chuckles taking another sip, still grinning at your reaction. You feel a warmth start to spread and fight down the urge to lean closer, to prompt him with far more personal questions. “It’s hard to believe that all this could be such a mood-killer.”

“You know, full disclosure, I do find that a bit startling.” You watch as he looks to you with perplexity and something deeper. You ignore the warmth again as you explain yourself. “I mean, come on, you’re hilarious.”

“Okay, Coffee Girl, what’s your excuse?” It’s your turn to be bamboozled. “You’re funny and intelligent and witty. Why aren’t you out there killing the game? These people would be on the floor if they heard you.”

You look down at your drink, taking effort to pull your eyes away from his deep orbs, keeping you from falling in. You take a deep gulp before you think about answering. He sobers up at your actions and watches gently, waiting for response. 

He’s not so demanding as Bucky, watching you with soft interest not with blatant scrutiny. You actually feel like you can talk with him and not be judged by your responses. You decide to take the leap. “I have a deflector for that.” You tip your coke towards your “plus one” that’s so absorbed in what strawberry is saying that he doesn’t even notice you talking with the man whose name you still don’t know.

“Ah.” He sighs, swirling his drink around, his energy collapsing. “Your boyfriend.”

You turn to him and watch him pointedly avoiding your eye, searching around the room without settling on an object.

His words sting for whatever reason and you feel that you need to correct him, stop him from getting the wrong impression. That you need to make him understand. “Not exactly.” 

“What do you mean, not exactly?” He scoffs, taking another swig.

“I mean that we’re not together, together. Yes, I came with him. Yes, I’ll probably leave at some point with him to stop him from passing out on the street dead drunk, but we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend or anything like that.” You don’t look at his face as he turns to you, knowing he’s trying to find any evidence of deceit. 

“Was that who you were meeting after leaving the shop?” He’s open, asking for honesty.

“Yes.” You look at him then, taken aback at the unabashed staring he’s doing, not even looking away as he observes you with such a gentle intensity, like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s seen. He’s wrong, but the way he’s looking would convince you otherwise.

“Okay.” He drinks again, placing the empty cup down on the table. “So, this boyfriend of yours doesn’t let you speak to any guy in any sort of flirting fashion?”

“More or less.” You wash more cold liquid down your throat as he looks away and scoffs. “What?” You prompt, genuinely interested.

“He’s one of those types.”

You purse your lips but say nothing. 

“As he should be. You’re so unaware of yourself.”

You almost choke, but he doesn’t give you a chance to respond as he grabs another coke from the fridge and pops it open. You look around the party and find Bucky and Willow conveniently absent. What a host. Doesn’t even make sure she sticks around to receive guests.

A pang settles against your chest as he comes to lean beside you on the counter, a little closer than normal. He must read your expression as he looks around for them as well and his face settles into disdain when he can’t spot them either, looking back at you. “You know, you never told me your name.”

You chuckle and take another drink, finishing it and placing it next to his original empty one. “You first.”

“Okay,” He turns and offers you his hand. “Sam. Friends call me Falcon.”

“Quite the nickname you have there, Sam.” You take his hand and shake it, feeling the buzz shoot through your arm at the contact and try to ignore how your skin heats up. 

He doesn’t respond for a minute, just looking at you. “Your turn,” He manages after a while, a miniature smirk taking his face, much different from his usual open grins.

“(Name),” You breathe back, trying to act confident. “But people call me Coffee Girl, sometimes.”

“Oh?” He grins fully this time, unconsciously holding your hand still. “Your good friends?”

“Maybe.” You coyly offer and his eyes light up with challenge. 

He laughs to himself as he finally lets your hand go, searching through the crowd again. “I saw you admiring that woven work on the wall over there.” He nods his head in the direction of the tapestry.

“Yeah.” You sigh. “It’s got great hand work. One of the finest I’ve seen.”

“Are you a collector?”

“Not really. Just a fan, I guess.” Your tone drops at the end. Sam looks at your dismal expression, eyes wondering. He searches a second more and then drops the topic. You stand close to each other, the heat wafting from your thin shirt meeting the warmth coming from the collar of his jacket and you take it all in.

The noise of the party seeming far away from the space that you and Sam have created. It’s peaceful and comforting. It feels like the coffee shop. 

Guilt rises at the way you left, at the plans to avoid him completely. Because of Bucky. Because of a man that is overly jealous over the slightest things. 

You clear your throat. “Um, Sam. I want to apologize to you.”

“Why, (name)?” Warmth crackles down your midsection at the use of your name and wonder if your usage affected him similarly. 

“When I left at the cafe, I wasn’t the kindest and know I made you feel terrible for approaching me.” You watch as he grins and lose your nerve and silence yourself.

“If I felt terrible, do you think I would have come over? Even when you hid from me?” You cringe and he laughs harder.

“I’m sorry.” You peak out of the corner of your eye and watch him laugh even harder. Your laughs mix for a couple of a seconds, a beautiful symphony, comfortable and happy. “I just…” You hold onto the counter, propping yourself up a little. “I’m just not used to that kind of attention.”

“Your boyfriend doesn’t look at you with pure adoration in his eyes?” He takes a sip and then frowns when you stay silent. “(Name)?” You can’t look at him as you play with your fingers. “Oh.”

“Yeah...” You weave your left fingers around your right pinky, trying to calm your heart down after your confession and the feeling of intense shame about ready to spill over.

“I’m sorry, if I made you feel uncomfortable.” He carries his words with a look of sincerity and you feel awful for making him feel as though he needs to apologize.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just out of practice, that’s all.” You look down. “I’m not good with that sort of thing, you know?” You glance over to see his eyes are already on you, electricity threatening to shoot between you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean.” But he doesn’t look away, just moves a little closer. “If you’re comfortable with it, would you reconsider that number thing? I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, I’m just showing my interest.”

You can tell.

And something in you tells you that he’s definitely trustworthy, someone worth giving your number to. He just has this draw and for a moment, you forget about Bucky completely as you watch Sam. You nod, slipping out your phone and placing it in his palm, turning the back of his hand over. 

His skin burns.

He smiles softly and enters his number in your contacts. He then slips his phone out of his pocket, furiously typing on it. Your phone lights up in your hand a second later, a text flashing across the screen: This is Falcon, paging Coffee Girl.

You laugh at the nickname. His name reads Falcon in your contacts, his real name hidden to your message app as it rests in the nickname section, which is turned off on your display.

You text him back.

Coffee Girl on stand-by.

He laughs at your response and you loosely smile as you're distracted by his light, by the beauty in his smile. He doesn’t notice and you duck your head to keep it that way.

Your stomach drops as you look up to see Bucky paving a stumbling path through the party to you, eyes ablaze and slightly unfocused. Sam stands to his full height, putting some distance between the two of you. “(Name). Where have you been, doll.” Alcohol slides over your cheek as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, glaring past you and into Sam.

“Here.” You draw his attention back to you as you take in his swollen lips and disheveled hair. Your shadows start to creep back into your skin, originally chased away by Sam, his light burning them away. Bucky’s eyes, despite how intense they look, are unfocused. He’s not in his right mind.

He pulls you closer as he looks down at you. “Who’s this?” He smiles at you but frowns as he spares a glance back at Sam. 

“A friend.”

He looks Sam up and down a couple of times before he looks back to you, a goofy smile coating his face. “Okay.”

You turn around and at Sam’s face distorted in anger, all traces of  his original kindness obliterated. It startles you, but when he glances over at you, his face softens. “I’m going to take him home.”

“Nice seeing you.” He bids you goodbye with such subtle hints at his awareness of the situation. You get the feeling that he’s not mad at you or the situation, just at Bucky. You silently thank him for his understanding.

He imperceptibly nods his head at you and you turn back to Bucky, slipping his arm over your shoulder. 

You feel a buzzing in your pocket but ignore it as you drag a half-functional Bucky out of the house and into your car. 

…

After hours of dragging him around his apartment and laying him down for bed, you leave him with one glass of water and a few pills for the massive headache he’s going to have tomorrow.

He mumbles for you to stay, but you push his arms off of you as if they’re disgusting chains, attempting to keep you sedated in one place.

When you break free from his place and safely make it back to yours, you collapse on your bed, crawling under the covers, not caring that makeup still lingers on your face. The fact of your phone buzzing dawns on you and you pull your phone out of your pocket, clicking the screen to life to see Falcon appearing on your screen.

See you around, Coffee Girl.

Your heart warms and you send a quick text back before turning out the light, plugging your phone in, and placing it on silent as you drift off.

Goodnight, Falcon.

[nelllraiser]

lions and funnel cakes and witches, oh my | tatiana & nell

TIMING: during the carnival. LOCATION: the carnival. PARTIES: @nelllraiser and @tatiana-rosales SUMMARY: two witches find a common practice, and see the best lion in town.  

Tatiana was excited to finally be able to go to the carnival. She'd gone pretty much every year for as long as she could remember, and normally would have already made it this year, but life had kept her too busy so far. So she'd been sure to make it a point to go this weekend whether she could get someone to go with her or not. Thankfully Penelope had agreed to go with her. She'd heard of the Vurals, but didn't know any of them very well. Her father had always been friendly with their parents, but not incredibly close to them either. So she was looking forward to getting to know a fellow Crester a bit better. Walking up to the entrance of the carnival, she noticed that it appeared to be surrounded by a thick fog. That was weird. Was it always like this? No, there must be a storm front coming in or something. She paused just outside the entrance to wait for Penelope, smiling and waving at the woman when she spotted her. "Hey there. Thank you again for agreeing to come with me."

Even though the Hall of Mirrors had left Nell bloody and distraught, she was ready to return to the carnival to have a fun time rather than the one she’d had before. Of course, she supposed it was somewhat her fault for what had happened with her other carnival experience, not exactly having entered into the attraction for fun. Either way, she was ready to stuff her face with ungodly creation and see a damn cute lion, and hopefully get to know Tatiana a little better. After all, witches had to stick together. That was a lesson her mother had somehow managed to stick into her brain, carried on by the coven she was and her family were a part of. As she saw the vaguely familiar face of the woman, Nell raised a hand in greeting, trying her best to ignore the few, fresh sacrificial cuts she’d made on her otherwise skin-graft scarred arms. There was also no hiding the strange, metal bracelet that still encompassed her wrist, though she’d been doing her best to pass it off as a fashion choice. “Hey! Yeah, of course. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get out here, anyway.” She didn’t hesitate to lead the way through the admission gates, handing her entry ticket that she’d bought online to the employee. “So you said you’ve been growing up, right? What was always your favorite thing?”

As Nell waved to her, Tatiana couldn't help but immediately notice the scars on the woman's arms though she made sure not to show any acknowledgement on her face. They were scars that were very similar to some she had herself. Some she had caused herself in the name of magic. She knew through her grandmother that the Vurals were spellcasters and were part of the local coven, though the woman hadn't known any specifics about the types of magic they used. Tatiana now had reason to suspect that Nell was a fellow blood magic practitioner, but the only way to confirm was to ask. And she couldn't just outright ask could she? No, not yet. That would be rude and too forward. Instead she handed over her entrance ticket and followed the young woman in. "I have, yeah. For as long as I can remember. As a kid my favorite part was most definitely the food. As a teen I was really big on the roller coasters. Now that I'm older I think I've gone back to the food being my favorite part. I don't remember a lion in previous years so that has potential to become a new favorite. How about you? Have you been before? Do you have a favorite part?"

Nell had been cagey about her blood magic for long enough in her youth, getting judgement on it from many a place in her life. Her coven, her family, and other stray practitioners all hadn’t held back, but as skin grew thicker, and she deviated more and more from what people thought, she’d grown bolder with her practice. Still, up until a couple of months ago, she’d gone about glamoring her arms, hiding the scars. Now, she toted the blood magic scars and necromancy scars about as if they were a warning to others. Perhaps if she’d been more open about her power to begin with, she wouldn’t have had to deal with half the shit that went down in the last year. And if people had something to say about it— they could say it to her face. But it didn’t seem Tatiana minded them, or perhaps simply hadn’t noticed them. “Look- the food is definitely the best part,” she replied with a continued smile, rather excited to get some greasy carnival goods into her stomach. “But yeah, I came here every year growing up. Sometimes multiple times every summer. The coasters have always been a good time, though. I think our favorites are basically the same. That being said...I’m ready to see this new potential favorite as well.” Once all the way inside the carnival, she paused at a directional sign, looking back to Tatiana. “So...do we want to see the infamous lion first, or get some food?”

As they continued inside, Tatiana couldn't stop wondering about the scars that she could easily see. Blood magic was something that was frowned upon by most and considered to be too dangerous to use. Not that it had stopped her or her grandmother. In the time since she'd started practicing she'd only met a few other blood magic users, so the possibility of meeting another was a bit thrilling. Tatiana knew that her own scars were well hidden, so unless there was something else that gave her away, it would be up to her to eventually broach the subject. But still not yet. Maybe after some food. Or the lion. Or later in the evening. Pausing in front of the sign, Tatiana considered the options for a moment before glancing over at Nell. "Hmm...lion first. Then food. And then we can go from there." She smiled before turning to head toward the lion, surprised by the long line waiting to go see him. "Wow, I'm surprised there are so many people in line. I guess this one really will be worth it. Should we go ahead and eat instead and hope that the line dies down, or just wait it out?"

Nell’s own grandmother had dabbled in some blood magic, though it hadn’t been nearly as far as Nell herself had gone, and more based in healing than anything else. So the negative reputation hadn’t touched her as strongly, especially when she was mostly just using it to help people. Even so, Nell hadn’t gotten to learn much of anything from her outside her journals and spellbooks, as the woman had been excommunicated from the coven, and later passed away. But a flash of light in the form of someone taking a souvenir picture brought her back to the present and the carnival, and her smile was quick to grace her lips once again. “Lion it is.” The line was indeed, long, though. “Mmmm,” Nell hummed, as if considering her options. “I could maybe get us some food to have while in line or something? Then it’s like the best of both worlds.”

Tatiana took just a moment to think before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, that works. And that way we don't lose our place in line." She reached into her purse and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "I'll pay for it. Since I invited you here. I'd like a funnel cake and a small soda." She watched Nell walk away and couldn't help but let her eyes linger on the scars. She needed to know if Nell was also a blood magic user. There was a small part of her deep down that felt almost desperate to find someone like her. Someone that she could confide in about her magic. Not even Erin knew about it. Though that was partly because the other woman had always been so firmly in denial about anything supernatural. While Nell was gone, Tatiana decided that she'd ask while they ate. That way she could easily change the subject if necessary.

Nell was going to deny Tatiana’s need for paying, but instead decided to accept it for the time being, giving her a simple thanks and a promise to get the food the next time they were in each other’s company. Finally, Nell returned with the food, holding Tatiana’s food out to her, once again brandishing the mottled scars of the healed skin grafts she’d gotten in exchange for resurrecting Bea, and the newer cuts that layered over them from her latest magics. “Here you go,” she offered with a nod and a smile before digging into her own funnel cake as if she’d been starved for weeks. Well...okay, she had been starved for a week recently, but she would have eaten the funnel cake in a similar fashion either way. “So did you catch any hint of the lion yet? Any sneak peeks?” 

Tatiana smiled gratefully as she took her food from Nell. “Thank you so much.” She took a couple of bites, trying to keep her eyes off of the scars that she could see on Nell’s arms. She was about to ask about them when Nell asked a question first. “Huh? Oh. No, not yet. I thought I saw a bit of the mane, but it was just some weirdo in a parka. Hopefully soon though.” Shoveling another bite of funnel cake into her mouth, Tatiana chewed and swallowed slowly, working up the courage to ask her next question. “So I have to ask. About the scars. Are you... I may be way off base here, but do you happen to practice magic? Blood magic specifically?” Tatiana held her breath, waiting for Nell to laugh in her face and call her crazy before leaving her alone. She silently prayed that wasn’t going to happen.

“For sure,” Nell offered politely in return as she inched forward in the line, them getting closer to the divider that separated the peeping eyes of the crowd and the promised lion. “Lame,” she commented with a hint of a joke to her words. “We don’t want a creep in a parka, we want a lion.” The next question Tatiana asked made her stiffen in the slightest, though. The scars. Every day, people stared or decided that they had the right to ask about them, and it often set Nell on the edge of annoyance. And as the other woman carried on, Nell’s wariness only grew. After all, blood magic casters weren’t always exactly welcome in magical communities. But she was far past hiding it, deciding that if it bothered people, they could deal with it themselves. After all she wasn’t the one who was bothered. However, Tatiana didn’t have the same air as those people seemed to carry, so perhaps there was promise. “Yeah,” Nell simply replied with a shrug, making sure she looked as unaffected as she could in case she was wrong about the woman before her. “You know about blood magic?”

Tatiana’s heart hammered in her chest as she waited patiently for Nell to respond. She tried to decipher the look on the woman’s face. It was wary, but not offended. It was likely that Nell had received questions about her scars before. Perhaps not this particular question, but questions nonetheless. The single word response followed by a simple shrug was enough to send relief throughout Tatiana’s body. She wasn’t alone. There was at least one other person in this town that might possibly understand her and her magic. Perhaps they could learn from each other? Tatiana realized she was getting ahead of herself. She hadn’t even answered Nell’s followup question. “I do actually.” She responded with a smile, lifting up the sleeve of her t-shirt to show scars similar to the ones on Nell’s arm. “I’m also a blood magic practitioner. I learned from my grandmother.” Dropping her sleeve, she went back to her food, asking another question between bites. “Where did you learn to practice?”

In the instant Tatiana admitted that she herself practiced blood magic, Nell’s entire demeanor changes. Her probing eyes were still curious, but softer now, wanting to know more about the women who stood before her and her magic. “Realy?” she asked, rather excited by the prospect. Blood magic users weren’t always the most common, and often they were secretive and hard to pull the truth from. “For how long?” Nell’s lips turned into a grin as she saw Tatiana’s own littering of scars, feeling an instant kinship that she wasn’t certain she’d ever felt before this moment. “Well I guess I learned from my Grandma as well. There were some mentions of it and teachings in a journal she left behind.” Along with her demon summoning, but it probably wasn’t the time to mention that. “Once I figured out the basics from that I just...searched for books and had to sort of tentatively figure it out. Tentatively for obvious reasons.” As she spoke, she took another step forwards in the line.

Tatiana couldn't stop grinning. She'd always figured that there must be others in town, but actually finding one was surreal. Following the line as it moved forward, she watched Nell while the other woman answered her questions. "So you've basically taught yourself?" she asked, eyebrows arched in surprise. "That's pretty impressive. My grandmother started teaching me when I was fifteen. She gave me lessons after school, and then when she felt I was good enough we practiced side by side. We continued that way until she died." The line continued to move slowly, giving Tatiana time to think. Another confirmed blood magic user. And they'd just happened to meet on the community site that her boss forced her to join. What were the odds? Tossing her trash in a nearby can, Tatiana turned back to Nell with a questioning look. "Do you know of any others? Obviously blood magic isn't very common, but is there anyone else in town? You don't have to give me names. It's just nice to know I'm not alone." 

There was a small buzz of excitement humming underneath Nell’s skin, all too eager to have met another witch that practiced what she did. “Well- I guess, sort of? I had the books like I said, and a bit of my grandma’s words. I had to do it very carefully, obviously.” Otherwise she could have ended up no more than a pile of bloody human sludge in the middle of her magic circles. It sounded strange, but Nell was glad that Tatiana had mentioned the death of her grandmother. Otherwise, she would have had to ask, seeing as she’d be interested in meeting yet another blood magic practitioner, and that certainly could have gotten awkward. “That’s nice, though. That we can sort of like...connect with them through it. As for others…” There’d only been a couple she’d found in her travels. “I know a witch here that used it a bit. But she uh- doesn’t do magic anymore, though.” That’s what happened when you became undead. “The others are all across the ocean.” Finally, they entered the tent, and perhaps a taller person would have been able to see the lion, but Nell’s lack of height was proving her greatest adversary at the moment. “I can’t see!” she said in frustration, nearly ready to claw down the people who stood in her way. “Can you see him? Is he beautiful?”

Tatiana nodded knowingly and laughed. “I understand. Even with my grandmother teaching me I had to be very careful. I was lucky to have her guiding me, but it’s still a tricky business.” They inched closer in line and Tatiana could feel herself getting more excited about seeing this lion. Although that excitement waned slightly when Nell said that the only other blood magic practitioners she knew were out of the country. “Well that’s a shame. And it’s always sad when we lose a witch. Whether due to death or because she just stops practicing magic. Hopefully we’ll be able to find more in time.” As they entered the tent, Tatiana stood on her tiptoes to try and get a glimpse of the lion, but she just wasn’t quite tall enough. There were far too many other people crowded around him for her to get a decent line of sight. “I think I can see part of the mane, but I’m not positive. It doesn’t seem to be as big as I thought it would be. Can you see anything in between people?”

Nell would have loved to meet Tatiana’s grandmother, but that obviously wasn’t an option. Still, the fact that she now had Tatiana to work with, to discuss things only they could both understand, it was exciting. “Very sad,” she managed to add somberly, thinking of how hard it had been to lose Morgan from the coven so soon after she’d joined it. But Nell was quickly frustrated with this waiting game, and therefore decided it was time to move into action. “Here, just follow me,” she smirked towards Tatiana before moving forward into the crowd, using her small frame to duck into small openings. Then she began stepping on people’s feet, and not all that softly. Thankfully, she was passing through the gaps they made when they recoiled before they barely even realized what had happened. Soon enough, she’d made a determined path to the front of the exhibit. “Ha!” she exclaimed with a triumphant look back at Tatiana. “Look there he is!” Nell pointed with exuberance, taking in the...lion? That did not look like any lion she’d seen before. It was small and...quite dog-ish. And there was a seam where its mane joined it face. Maybe she should have been disappointed, but instead— a grin split over her lips. “That’s the best lion I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

 Tatiana saw the scheming smirk and could only grin in return. She followed the woman through the crowd, tossing apologies behind them as they went. Nell’s methods got them quickly to the front and she looked to the exhibit to see the lion. Lion? Dog? She smiled brightly and leaned over to get a closer look. “He’s so adorable! This was absolutely worth it!!” She pulled out her phone to snap a couple of pictures before turning back to Nell. “I can’t wait to show these to dad. He’s going to love them. Do you want to stick around here or move on?”

“Absolutely worth it!” Nell echoed, wasting no time in waving at the dog-lion far too enthusiastically. No wonder the lion had been such a hit amongst carnival goers. There was no doubt in her mind that the long line had been worth the wait. But soon enough, the crowd became restless behind them, especially seeing as some of them were nursing sore feet. “Let’s get out of here before there’s a mutiny,” Nell said all while glaring back at those expressing their distaste. “We can go find some ore things for you to take pictures of for your dad.”

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Fifty: In the Shed ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Mikoto, Uchiha Fugaku ] [ SasuHina, pregnancy ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

He’s looked for it everywhere. And yet, to no avail. H even goes so far as to call his parents, asking if they recall seeing it anywhere around their place. Mikoto gives a thoughtful hum, trying to remember while her husband gruffly assures her there was no way it was there.

“Well honey, I’ll look around, but honestly I don’t think there’s too much of your stuff left here. You’re sure it’s not there with you?”

“I don’t think so...at least, not that I’ve been able to find. You’re sure there aren’t any boxes of mine left there?”

Another sound of contemplation carries over the phone. “...well...if there are, we’ve probably moved them to the shed. That’s where most of the more random things get stuck anymore. Ever since we did all those remodels, it’s become a bit of a hub for lost things. If you want, you can head on over and check. Why all the fuss about it?”

That gets him to pause. “Just...feeling nostalgic. Been a while since I’ve seen it. Y’know, the older I get, the more I tend to kinda...look back and remember.”

Mikoto can’t help a laugh. “Oh believe me, you have much more of that to look forward to, dear. It’ll only get worse from here!”

Chuckling in tandem, Sasuke smiles against the receiver. “Well...if I have some time this weekend, maybe I’ll drop by and look.”

“All right, honey. We’ll be home, so any time is good.”

“Thanks, Mom. See you then.”

“Bye!”

Ending the call, Sasuke considers his mobile for a long moment before stuffing it back in his pocket, mulling the conversation over. Odds are it is somewhere in that shed. Hopefully nothing’s gotten to it...moths, or mice.

“What was that all about?”

“Asking Mom if she knew where it was.”

“Did she have a clue?”

“Might be in the shed there. Which...is a bit convenient, seeing how they’re going to be home.”

Stepping up beside him, Hinata tilts her head curiously for a moment before brightening in understanding. “...oh! That’s a great idea! I’ll go with you, then.”

“Yeah. We’ll just hint we were on our way somewhere else, decided to swing by and look. They’ll never suspect a thing.”

A hint of mischief shines in Hinata’s eyes. “I n-never thought you’d be so underhanded.”

“Oh, please - it’s not like there’s going to be any harm. Just a little surprise.”

“I know, I know. Just teasing you. Anyway, I was going to fix some lunch - hungry?”

“For your cooking? Always.”

The rest of the week passes in typical fashion. Hinata heads back to work as a first grade teacher, always eager to get back to her class and the job she loves. Sasuke, on the other hand, remains at home. It’s where his office is after all, as an independent architect. His days are spent emailing clients and working on new models, occasionally traveling for expos to pick up new ideas and learn about the newest materials and styles. But this week is rather tame: nowhere to go, and most of his current projects toward the end of their development cycles. A few more weeks, and he can open up again to a new round of bids.

But first, the weekend arrives.

The drive to the other side of town isn’t exactly strenuous, and the pair embark in the late morning after Sasuke texts his mother and announces their travel plans. Her reply reveals she’s excited to see him - doubly so when she hears Hinata will be joining him. Already she assures him there will be a hearty lunch upon their arrival. Or...after their perusal through the shed in search of his desired object.

“Do you think she has any clue?”

“Nah...doesn’t seem like it. She’s pretty shrewd, so...honestly, if she thought something was up, she’d have said something by now.”

“Oh, I hope not...I want to see the look on her face. And this is the perfect way to do it!”

“I hadn’t even thought of that when the idea struck me to dig it out. Honestly it all just had me sort of nostalgic.”

“I’ve been the same way...maybe I should dig out some of mine. I think my father still has those boxes at his house. Couldn’t really take them with me to college!”

“Yeah, same. I mean, I didn’t have that many, but...I’m pretty sure what I did have is over there.”

“Well...guess we’ll find out.”

“It better be...otherwise, I have no idea where else to look.”

“There’s no chance you...got rid of it, right?”

“Nope.” The admittance makes him go ever so slightly pink, though he knows he has no reason to. “I don’t think I ever could. And I looked through all my unpacked boxes, so...either it’s at my parents, or...I dunno. Maybe Itachi ended up with it.”

“That would be weird…”

“I’ve run across some of his stuff with mine every so often. We just swap.”

The conversation idles on until their reach the proper neighborhood. The house, from the outside at least, looks pretty much the same as it did growing up for him. The only real difference is the addition of a front porch. It’s the inside where Mikoto and Fugaku have done the most work renovating.

Much of it is Sasuke’s own designs, his parents eager to help support his career.

Mikoto makes her way out to greet them, burying them both in hugs. “It’s so good to see you! Gosh, you two just don’t make it over here often enough!”

“Well, we’re not retired yet,” Sasuke jokes in reply. “Some of us still have jobs and mortgages.”

That earns a hearty laugh. “I know, I know...now, do you want to go digging first, or eat?”

“Dig, I think. We’ll work up our appetites braving the shed.”

“Oh, please - it’s organized! Just dusty - we hardly ever go in there. But there’s nothing to worry about. If the boxes are there, you’ll find them no problem.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Hinata follows as Sasuke makes his way to the back yard, whereupon sits a rather unremarkable shed. At one time it had served as a playhouse for the brothers, but now is a glorified storage container for things no longer suitable for the house. “All right...let’s see what we’ve got.” Undoing the latch, Sasuke lets the door creak open.

Two rows of shelving divide the space, all chock full of boxes and loose paraphernalia. Every box, to his relief, has a label on the front in black marker. “All right...you take that wall.”

“Got it.”

Scanning the box fronts, Sasuke sees mostly his parents’ belongings: stuff packed out after the remodels to help minimize clutter. A few have his brother’s name on them.

“...I think I found them!”

Glancing over, Sasuke sees his wife point to a few boxes, one of which has the sublabel he’s looking for. Grinning, he opens the flaps, digs around...and pulls out a dusty, slightly-worn dinosaur plush.

“...mister Roary.”

Hinata beams. “He’s so cute!”

“I was such a dino nerd as a kid…”

“...should we head in, then?”

“Yeah.” Closing the box back up, Sasuke considers it a moment. “...should we take the rest?”

“Hm...maybe another time. We k-know where it is, now.”

“Yeah, true.”

The pair then head into the house, smiling as the Uchiha pair greet them fondly. Well...Mikoto is a bit more exuberant than her husband, who gives acknowledging nods.

“Oh, you found it!”

“Yup. Right in the proper box.”

“Oh good, good...it’s been so long since I’ve seen that stuffed animal…” Mikoto looks to it fondly.

“Yeah, me too…” Considering the plush in his hands, Sasuke glances to Hinata before offering, “...figured he was in good enough condition, might as well let him have a round two.”

Expression a bit uncertain, Mikoto tilts her head. “...what do you…?”

Fugaku, ever sharp, stiffens before his wife does.

“Round two, I…” After a pause, her eyes go wide. Staring at her son, she then looks to Hinata, resting dainty hands on her shoulders. “Are...are you saying…?”

“We’re going to have a baby!” Hinata blurts, unable to take the tension any longer. She and Mikoto both burst into excited laughter as Sasuke and Fugaku exchange a look, and a nod.

Latching onto her son, Mikoto beams. “I was wondering what brought this on! You sly thing!”

“You know me,” he replies, embracing her back.

“When are you due, Hinata dear?”

“August. Around the twentieth or so.”

“Another Summer baby, oh good! Boy or girl?”

“We’re leaving it as a surprise,” Sasuke replies.

“Oh, I hope for a girl...I always wanted a girl,” she muses. “But! Either way, it will be so exciting! I won’t be able to stand the waiting…”

“How do you think we feel?”

“You have to indulge your mother, dear. Have you told Hiashi yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Oh, I bet he’ll be thrilled! Happy to see the family growing again.”

Hinata gives a soft, somber smile. “...yeah.”

The pair stay for lunch, enduring all of Mikoto’s questions as Fugaku lets his wife do all the talking. Only once they’ve exhausted her are they allowed to leave.

“Bye you two! Take care, and make your way across town more often, all right?”

“Will do,” Sasuke calls back before getting in the car.

“Well...I think that worked out perfectly,” Hinata praises.

“Yeah, it was definitely worth the drive. Hope you’re prepared to be hovered over until August.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’ll be the least of my worries.”

                                                      .oOo.

     Well, it's...very late, and I'm very tired. Had a very bad, stressful day so...it was nice to end it with some fluff, but I'm exhausted OTL I dunno if the mystery was much of a mystery, but...I tried? lol      I live for Mikoto gushing about her future grandbabies. Heck you canon for taking that from me xD      Anyway, I...reallllly need to go sleep - thanks for reading!

[somefinelipstickonthatpig]

rated: t

fandom: Tales of Symphonia

prompt: “Go Through Me” + Zelos/Colette/Lloyd

requested by: @greecllings

more modern-day!AU shenanigans because I got this idea in my head after a particularly great line in another, diff-fandom fanfic i was reading. now this is here.

i’m sorry. 

thanks Josie for the request, though i’m 95% certain this scenario wasn’t what you had in mind when you first requested “get through me” with these three, so...sorry (again)

o - o - o

Schlemiel [Read on AO3]

o - o - o

Zelos frowns. “You’re sure he said to wait here?”

At Colette’s shrug, his frown deepens. Her thumbs fly across the screen of her cell. Zelos doesn’t know how she can see anything on that thing under the glaring light of the courtyard lamppost. “Yeah. Said he was on his way? He should be here in just a—”

“—hey, Colette!” 

The voice that rings out is too loud for not being that far away.

Zelos turns and takes a good look at his theater classmate’s childhood friend. Colette talks about him a lot: the boisterous bundle of energy named Lloyd Irving who is apparently not her boyfriend. (Zelos is of the opinion that there’s a yet in those words somewhere.) Her stories she spins as they sit knee-to-knee doing warm-ups on stage are always wild, extremely silly, and very funny. To see the subject of those 4-wheeler wheelies and the self-proclaimed corn-husk king, who’s apparently a plain guy with spiky brown hair and a bright red university sweater, was almost a disappointment. Zelos had expected someone more…something.

“You must be Zelos,” Lloyd gives a breathless greeting and thrusts a hand out towards his chest. “Nice to meetcha.”

Zelos takes the proffered hand because he, unlike some of the people in front of him, was not raised in a barn. He makes a good show of flicking a long strand of red hair over his shoulder, sliding on a slow grin. “I see our sweet little Colette here has told you about me.”

Is that a smattering of pink dusting the guy’s cheeks? Geez, already? How are these two not dating yet if the mere mention of the other’s name makes them go all gooey-eyed and soft? “Yeah. I guess she has mentioned a thing or two about the funny redhead from her theater class before.” 

Sharply, Zelos chokes. “Funny—?!”

Lloyd chuckles and is quick to release his hand and wrap it around one of his two ratty backpack straps. He swallows and looks over his shoulder. “Right. Well, uh, shall we head back?”

And then and all of a sudden, Colette’s head snaps up from her phone. 

She stares at Lloyd with almost comically ginormous eyes. Zelos doesn’t get quite why until Colette waves for his attention and turns her phone screen to face him. Beaming in the night, surrounded by a green text message box from one heart-emoji-surrounded Lloyd (seriously?) are the white words: jhey, I think i mite be being follow.ed. just os you kno. sry. 

Ah.

“Yes!” Colette says as soon as she pockets her phone. “C’mon! Yeah! Let’s, uh, let’s go to our dorms!”

The funny thing about being in a theater class with country bumpkin Colette Brunel is that the golden-headed tenderheart has the hardest time telling a convincing lie, so she’s actually very, very bad on stage—which is exactly why Zelos likes her. She is earnest and sincere and would never stab him in the back one day probably because she didn’t know which way to hold the damn knife. 

Completely unlike him in every way.

Which is why when Colette says “our dorms,” Zelos immediately realizes two things: one, that Lloyd must not have the same scholarship he and Colette do because he isn’t bunking in Chosen Hall, and two, when Lloyd is asking if he can walk with them, it’s because he doesn’t feel safe heading back to his own dorms.

And all in the span of two seconds, Zelos knows what to do.

His grin widens.

“W-whoa, hey, what are you—”

“—shhh, play along,” Zelos purrs, arm snug around Lloyd’s waist as he flicks a glance over the guy’s shoulder. It was on his right Lloyd had looked earlier; there’s a figure leaning against a tree on their phone. Super casual, not anything unusual after nine on a college campus after night classes have just let out. 

But Zelos remembers very well his own personal near-experiences.

With his arm around Lloyd, he turns him and guides him down the sidewalk towards his and Colette’s dorm. He sneaks another glance behind them in the form of a chaste kiss to Lloyd’s very, very red cheek. 

After a beat, the stranger begins to follow. 

Huh.

Colette is making strange, choked-off noises at his side and when he glances at her, he can see her face is as red as Lloyd’s sweater. Hell, she’s practically as red as Lloyd’s face. Zelos really is surrounded by the two most rural, suppressed idiots this side of the Tethe’alla-Sylverant continent divide, huh.

They aren’t even halfway to the dorms yet and the stranger tailing them still hasn’t taken a hint, so Zelos decides to do something fun.

“You trust me?” he whispers, leaning in close to Lloyd’s side. The guy’s been quiet as a mouse the entire walk, which is funny as hell because he’s known him for all of three minutes (if you don’t count Colette’s oddball stories) and he has a very good hunch his unusual silence is because he’s so far out of his element, he’s probably somewhere on Mars.

“N-no…?” 

“Fair enough.”

Zelos spins him and pins him to the outer wall of the old university library. Colette squeaks. There’s an odd bump and arc to Lloyd’s figure with his backpack in the way. With one hand pressed to the brick at the level of Lloyd’s bewildered face and the other digging into the pocket of his white sweatpants, Zelos leans in.

“If you really want to ward ‘em off, you know what we should do.”

“Ex-fuckin’-scuse me?”

“Yes or no. Be quick.”

And then, Zelos has about two seconds to recognize the flash of determination set in Lloyd’s eyes for what it is before Lloyd clumsily grabs his face with both hands and pulls him in. At that moment, Zelos discovers another thing:

Lloyd’s never kissed before.

The guy’s real bad at it. Has no finesse whatsoever. Really messy with his lips and bumps his nose against Zelos’ as he tries to tilt his head at a better angle. Stinky breath; what, did he just stuff his mouth full of sour cream and onion chips during his late class or something? Disgusting. Salty. Actually, kinda addicting?

Weird.

Zelos tilts into it when Lloyd gives a tiny, hitched gasp. His nerves light up. Belatedly, he realizes that was his own fault—his fingers have curled into the skin of Lloyd’s hip, pushing up his sweatshirt until it bunches over the back of his hand. 

When finally they break apart, breath hot against one another’s faces, Zelos turns his face to the side.

Whoever it was that was following Lloyd is gone.

Good. Didn’t want them to even reach our dorms, anyway.

“Zelos! Lloyd! Th-that was—” 

Oh.

Zelos turns to his other side. He almost forgot Colette was there, but when he sees her, there are stars in her eyes. Like, near-legitimate stars. He’s never known blue could turn so cosmic at night, like spinning nebulas are spanning the length of her mind. 

“What?” Zelos asks innocently, straightening up and pushing both hands in his sweatpants pockets, now. “You’ve seen me do that in class all the time, Colette.”

“Y-yeah, but—” Colette stutters and her face steams up again. She squeaks out, hands fisted in front of her collar, “—not with my best friend!”

Oh.

Yeah.

There was that.

“That was…” She tries again, but seems to be at a loss for words. When Colette looks to Lloyd, Lloyd looks back at her, dazed and still so, so red.

Actually, to hell with it. Red looks great on him.

“Well, it worked, so you’re welcome.” Zelos shrugs. “Successfully delivered the age-old, ‘you’ll have to go through me,’ and ‘this one’s taken,’ message across to that creep, for what it’s worth. They shouldn’t bother you again, but if they do…well, you know who to reach out to.”

“Thanks,” Lloyd murmurs. 

Zelos takes a step back and bows extravagantly. 

“We should, uh…” Lloyd looks around at this side of campus—probably unfamiliar to him—and scratches the back of his head. “We should keep going, right? Your guys’ dorm is further on. Colette, are you sure you’re fine if I…?”

“What? Yeah—yes. That’s fine! I still have your toothbrush from last time.”

Oh, to be young and in love and so dumb as to not even realize it.

“Do you, um—” Colette breaks off and if possible, her face is even redder. “Zelos, would you want to come with us?”

“Uh, I have to.” Zelos gives Colette a funny, patient look. “We’re in the same dorm hall, honey.”

“Oh—no—yes—of course—but I mean—”

And then it dawns on Zelos in that funny, crawling kind of way. Slowly, like the first rays of the sun as it peeks over the horizon. And then it warms him, starting from some point in the center of the top of his head and spreading down across his skin and low to his feet and he hedges out a laugh that’s as bewildered as it is—admittedly—just a bit flustered.

“You want me to crash your little slumber party?” he asks with a lifted brow. She can’t be serious.

Colette says, “You wouldn’t be crashing it!” at the same time as Lloyd finally catches on and bursts, “Hey, yeah! That’s a great idea! Colette’s got a corner room to herself and the bottom bunk’s a futon that can fold out and it’s really comfy. C’mon, Zelos. You’ll love it!”

Zelos has every idea that these two oblivious fools are going to be the death of him. 

But then he finds himself somehow—incredibly—nodding—and he supposes he must be the biggest fool of all. Is he actually agreeing to this?

“Yay!” Colette cheers and claps her hands and Zelos supposes he is.

How did he get here?

[moonbelt]

»whiplash | 05

↳ fake dating au | college au

⇢ pairing: chanyeol | reader

⇢ genre: slight angst + fluff + sexual themes

⇢ word count: 8.471

⇢ description: as an aspiring big-shot photographer in a slump, you’re looking for something that inspires you and unfortunately — or maybe not — it comes in the form of a guy named Chanyeol.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 [final]

There was nothing particularly fascinating about love — in your opinion. To be frank, you thought the whole experience of butterflies in your stomach, fire in your veins as you fell in love was one of the most ridiculous clichés ever created.

The idea of love, at first sight, was amusing to the say the least. Everyone wants to believe in things written between starry nights and coffee dates. But at this point in life, you'd resigned yourself to think that kind of love only existed through the confines of recorded videos and fabled literature. Why build yourself up only to have it ripped apart?

But here's the thing about preconceived ideas. There's an eighty-twenty percent chance that your preconceived conceptions are wrong.

Relationships were just another type of addiction that gradually pulled you under until you lost who you were among someone else. And it was always something you'd thought people had fallen into willingly. People claimed they wanted love and friendship, but when it came down to it, all they really wanted was to change and control each other. To have someone put them on this grand pedestal. To have a distraction from being alone so they wouldn't have to take a hard look at themselves.

In the name of love, people do stupid things and hold on to beliefs that are in every sense of the word; broken—and even hazardous to their wellbeing. You swore you wouldn't be like one of those people. You regulated your interactions with anyone you felt even an inkling of a connection with. You rationalized everything you felt to mean something smaller. You didn't rely on them for anything and that made you stronger and more ineffable.

You'd accidentally fallen in love before, and all it did was cement your theory about intimate attachments equaling weakness. You had firsthand experience of how letting down your guard bruised you more than you could handle. And you didn't — couldn't — go through that again.

And yet, all those convictions swirling in your head do nothing to stop you from standing outside the one person that threatens to dismantle all your theories front door. Here he stands right in front of you, looking at you with a mix of disbelief and — you're not sure, vulnerability?

All the oxygen in the room evaporates to somewhere you don't know as Chanyeol moves closer into your space. Well, his space if you're being technical. You're the one intruding on his turf. Did he get taller and broader since you last saw him three weeks ago? You're not sure, but his frame takes up all the air around you and your mind short circuits for a minute or two.

It grates on you that your body still reacts when you see him and that your heart still gets so excited from being in mere breadths away from him.

"In the neighborhood and thought you'd stop by and say hello?" He's the first to break this stalemate silence and you recognize the sarcasm and thinly laced anger dripping from his tone, his eyes not once straying away from yours.

"No, I came to talk to you," as a second thought you add. "If that's okay."

You understood his anger. Heck, if the situations were reversed you doubt you wouldn't be snarky and sarcastic to him as well. He pushes himself past you and slides his keys into the door, his entire demeanor closed off. "Do what you want, but you should have called first. I have stuff to do."

He pulls his front door open and angles his head behind him to look down at you, waiting for you to say something in response.

"I... I didn't think I would be here today."

Your voice falters a bit but you refuse to back down. Even though being near him makes your insides want to burn. You came here to say something and goddamit, you're not leaving until you say it. Even if he doesn't care about it anymore.

"Look, [Y/N], I don't — we shouldn't do this." He steps into his apartment and now it feels like you are divided.

You look at your surroundings. You don't want anyone to just walk out and hear the two of you, for what its worth, you still have a smidgen of pride remaining. "Can we talk inside?"

"I'm not sure there's anything we need to talk about," he crosses his hands across his chest. "You made it clear that you didn't want to see me."

You feel so small and so stupid and although you're not one to usually regret your decisions. You find yourself doing exactly that. "I'm sorry, Chanyeol." You really are but now that you're standing face to face with him, the words that you had practiced in your head have faded into nothing. And your apology sounds weaker than you thought it could be.

Chanyeol closes his eyes, breathing in for a moment and you take this time to really look at him. His hoodie is three times too big for him and his hair doesn't look like it's seen a brush in days. He doesn't look that good. Not bad or deprived...just not good. Just not how he usually he does. It's light, but the shade deeper circles under his eyes tell you that he hasn't been as well off as you had originally thought. To be frank, he looks dead-tired. He steps away from his door and motions for you to walk in.

Unlike the last time you came over, there are no stray track pants littering the floor. In fact, his apartment looks impeccably clean. And for a moment you accommodate the idea that maybe he hasn't been hanging in here more than necessary. The pit in your stomach digs harder, making a house.

Another round of uncanny silence slips above the two of you. And although you had this fire burning through you earlier to have this conversation with him, now you're not ready for what's to come. "Can I, uh, use your bathroom?"

He raises an eyebrow at that but doesn't say anything to it. "Knock yourself out."

You try not to scamper to the bathroom but you're sure it must still appear that way to him regardless. Ah, shit. You're tempted to call Sehun for an impromptu pep talk. Or better yet Kyungsoo. Sehun's great and all but you need some quick words to raise your confidence bar.

You shut the bathroom door and lean against it, hoping that the few minutes you spend here would be able to help you figure out what you needed — wanted — to say. Thoughts and emotions collide catastrophically in your head and you're afraid your nervousness would render you incoherent if you don't get a grasp on the situation soon. You lean over to the sink and click it on, dousing your face repeatedly with cold water. You pat your cheeks and will your heart and mind to still for just one moment. You can do this. You've come this far ahead already, you can't back down now.

When you return to the living room, Chanyeol is standing in front of the kitchen's island, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his attention focused solely on the notepad in front of him. He's furiously writing away and for a moment you're tempted to not disturb him.

You've seen him write a few times and no matter how many times you do, it still manages to mesmerize you all the same. You could watch him do this until the wee hours of the morning — not asking questions and never interrupting his work. You silently adore him — his intense focus and attention to emotion and details and then, out of nowhere or maybe out of somewhere really deep within you. You realize this unabated truth: that you love this man, and that it has drowned you.

Because of this, you decide that you need to use this tension stringing and knotting together in your stomach for good. So, you clear your throat and alert him to your presence.

He looks up from his work and a small but somber tilt peeks out on his lips. And a sharp pang filters through you, your fingers suddenly more jittery than before. "So, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

You fiddle with your fingers to prevent you from biting them to all damnation. If you were any closer to him, you bet he would hear the loud gulp you take to steady yourself.

"I like you, a lot. I love talking with you, I enjoy your company. You're dedicated and smart and...although I say I hate your puns, I find it oddly very sexy. I love how you're sure of yourself and your craft. I like how you're a really good friend to me and I hate that I was coward enough not to return the favor. Chanyeol, God, Chanyeol, I..." You trail off. You feel so incredibly stupid. Christ, why do you feel so pathetic?

As perfect as that all sounded, you knew there was no way Chanyeol was just going to accept that. You catch his gaze and he sighs out. "But?"

"I didn't think you could like me back."

Your answer lights something in him because the amount of irritation that floods off of him is enormous. He laughs but it comes out as disbelieving and mocking. "And now you think I like you? Is that why you're here? Did you decide on your own about my feelings about you?"

Biting your cheek hard, you do your best to keep your spine straight. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" His fervor has dimmed but you still hear it. "I want to know why."

"Why what?" You move your eyes from the top of his head to his face.

"Why you can say all those pretty good things about me—how you like me so much, how good you think we could be together— but then didn't even attempt to do anything about us. Is it me? Is there something about me that makes everyone think they should keep me around but not too close? Like I'm some sort of medal? Why am I never enough?"

You don't know how to go about this. There's raw neediness in his voice and he truly is asking for your answer. You wish you could scream at him that he is more than enough. More than anything you'd ever been used to. More than enough. Always more than that. You can tell its something that's plagued him for days on end and if you didn't know much about Chanyeol, you wouldn't understand the underlying question.

It doesn't matter that you didn't shatter his heart like Mai did; the principle is the same. Of course, there are things that you would never be able to prevent, no matter how hard you try, but you could've prevented this. You didn't have to chip at his slowly-mending heart, you didn't have to decide about stuff all on your own.

"I thought I was doing both of us favors. I thought I was preventing everything from getting messy. I —"

He stares at you and you can't form the words anymore. There's so much swimming in his eyes— anger, vulnerability, confusion, desire. But among all that, you know you're looking at a man who has feelings for you. You aren't alone in this.

"Why didn't you ask me?"

"It's not that simple."

"I didn't say it was. But rather than try to sort things out, you just packed yourself up and didn't look back."

You remain silent because you're not sure of what to say or rather, you're not sure how to say it. Frustrated by the lack of words on your part, Chanyeol maneuvers around the island countertop until he's somewhat close to you. He runs his hand through his hair once, twice and then again for good measure. "Why did you come here, [Y/N]?"

"Because I had to tell you. I couldn't leave it like that, it didn't feel —"

"So? Has this helped you? Did you need to see first-hand that I'm unhappy or something? Because this certainly hasn't helped me any." He places a hand on his forehead, tired, and is about to turn on the heel of his foot and walk off when you reach out and grip the edge of his sizes-too-big hoodie.

"Chanyeol."

He jerks his shirt away from your grip and whirls back so fast, your brain stutters from the whiplash and you barely have enough sense to move back to avoid crashing into him.

"Or did you come to fuck me? Is that what you came for?" He pulls the hoodie off his head in one swift motion, revealing the basic tee under it. "Have a repeat of the last time you were in here. I mean this is all fake, isn't it? The only real thing that happened between us was the sex, right?"

"Stop."

He doesn't. He keeps plowing. You don't even have buttons to push but he presses them all. The second button, the third, then the fifth... He keeps going, laying out all these things bare for you to hear. And even though some part of you had expected this, you can't help the closing feeling enrapturing your throat.

You interrupt his tirade. "You deserve more than I — anyone — can give you."

That wasn't an explanation for the things you've done; it was a withdrawal. But you meant it. He does deserve better. Someone who doesn't let insecurities or 'what if's' dictate their life. Someone that wants to be with him unapologetically. Someone who wasn't riddled down by plays of other people's bad choices. Someone who wasn't scared of problems that haven't even happened.

Is it so wrong to still want to be with him even though you acknowledge all these faults?

"You're absolutely right." He shuts his eyes for a moment before re-opening them. "I do deserve more. I deserve someone who wants to be with me in the way I want to be with them. And maybe it's my own fault for growing all these feelings for you when you never promised anything more than a pseudo-relationship. But you know what?"

You don't know and now you wish you had said everything you wanted to say earlier. There's no stupid right time to confess to someone. There's no way you can control something like that.

"I didn't think I was in this alone. I was foolish enough to think you were right there with me, breaking your ridiculous rule about repressing your feelings to dust."

Seconds tick on to minutes and you can feel your heart wrapped around his fist. Why did you ever buy into the stupid idea of trying not to fall in love with someone? What have you gained doing that? Yeah, sure heartbreaks are a pain in the ass and devoting yourself to someone only to have them trample on your feelings is a horrible situation. But, who says that's the only outcome? Why are you supposed to live your life being afraid of getting hurt? People — you — deserve to have that one good thing.

All putting up barriers around your heart does is make you more alone. Not alone alone, just lonely.

He motions with a tilt of his head to the door. "You should go... if you have nothing to say."

But you have a lot to say. So much in fact, that you stammer a good minute before anything useful falls from your lips. "I'm not leaving." Not again.

"[Y/N]," he says now and it's more of a plea than anything. Maybe he thinks you came all the way here to make a clean break from him? You didn't come here to tell him your feelings and then just leave. You came here to...You came here to come to terms with this feeling imploding in your chest.

"I am right here with you. I just..."

"Just what?"

"There are all these signs in my head telling me about everything that can go wrong but I also can't seem to fucking walk out that door."

He licks his lower lip and sighs. Not an exasperated sigh like all the others he's been letting out, it's more of a resigned sigh. Like it's clicking that you're not leaving here until the two of you have ironed this whole situation out. He leans back on the corner of the island counter, and the two of you have a mini stare off. Maybe he thinks you're gonna bolt out of the door the minute he blinks, you can't blame him.

"What made you think that I couldn't have feelings for you?"

First, there was that talk. The one you had the night before you cut off all contact. He'd talked about finding this wonderful person that was made for him and about the kind of love that only existed within beautiful literature. It wasn't something you'd ever associated with yourself. You and love and relationships had never been on the same page. And to be frank, you'd never even given it a chance. Never even entertained the idea. Until your walls came crashing down and the only thing that seems remotely relevant is that you don't need — you don't have to be on your own.

"I mean you're...you," you stumble around blindly. "You could have anyone you want."

A soft, if slightly incredulous yet unexpected laugh filters from his lips."You'd think I'd be able to make my own decisions at my age."

"Shut up," you mumble, averting your eyes to anywhere but him. "I'm not good with these things."

"What things?"

You don't realize he has moved from his position until he's ridiculously close to you that you can feel his body heat. Or maybe it's yours? Your chest is pounding faster than before. And you swear your bones are lighting with charged electricity. He must sense that you're not going to answer him because he doesn't waste time before adding:

"I want you. If I can have anyone I want, don't you think I should get to have you?"

"I don't want you to settle for me. I don't want you to regret any of the time you spend with me when you find someone greater."

Chanyeol furrows his eyebrows, puzzled. "Greater? Settle? [Y/N], when have I ever implied that being with you would be settling for something lesser?"

You huff out a frazzled breath, not wanting to relive that day but having to do so all the same. "You're waiting for your perfect person. I don't want to get left behind because of that."

"Oh, my," Chanyeol squints at you like he can't quite believe your thought process. "Sweetheart," he chastises and a part of you — a really minuscule one — melts.

"What?" You're not annoyed but a spike of mild irritation floods your veins.

"Just because I said that doesn't mean —" he cuts himself off. "Since you clearly didn't get what I was trying to say; lemme lay it down again." Chanyeol cocks his head to the side. "I was trying to hint at you. That I think this," he uses a hand to demonstrate between the two of you. "Is the real thing."

Hearing those words from out of his lips is like something akin to an epiphany. This chemistry that has been brewing between the two of you wasn't something you conjured up all on your own. It takes all your willpower — fortunately, that's a lot — to restrain yourself from turning into some inebriated schoolchild. However, try as you might, you can't stop the fragile smile from creaking at the corners of your mouth.

You manage to nod, barely. "But?"

"But I — we — should take it slower this time."

"Slower?" You probably sound dumb repeating what he just said but it's because you want to be sure. "That's not a thinly graced no, is it?"

He laughs at that and your body sings. "Of course not. I just think the both of us we have to sort some shit out... from scratch."

Again, you nod because you can't seem to be capable of doing anything else. Chanyeol moves away from you and finally plops down on one of the beige sofas in his admittedly big living room. He gives you a look, beckoning you over and you do as he implies. Sitting close but not too close to invade any personal space.

"The point," he strums along, "is that I get it, okay? You've never had an actual relationship before. You're thinking about all these possibilities that could happen but I don't care. And I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend right away, in fact, I'm not asking for any of that right now."

You twist your lips up at what he's saying, not quite understanding. "Then what are you asking for?"

"For a date," he says simply. "One date. Maybe two—"

A part of you bows to the heavenly power of euphoria.

"—or maybe four. Point is, I wanna keep seeing you."

You watch as he rakes a hand through his floppy-ish dark hair. Damn, he looks soft. He doesn't notice your little gawking fest because he continues on.

"I don't care when. You want to get a burger at night, cool. Early in the morning, great too. I'm willing to play by your guidelines, so long as you promise to communicate with me on things that are bothering you."

Pleasure and presentiment wage a war inside your head. "You'd really do that?"

You hold your breath when he fixes you with a firm, intense gaze. Then he wacks your chest and convictions even more by asking. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Oh fucking no.

There must be something monstrous brooding on your facial features — not that you deny it — because Chanyeol cracks up like a geezer, laughing. You believe in love, of course, you do. But love at first sight? You'd rather cough up a lung than have a belief in something as fickle as that.

"Calm down, [Y/N]. I'm not saying that I fell in love with you like that."

You don't know why the sigh that reverberates through your body is one of relief. It's not like you don't want Chanyeol to be in love with you but it's the principle of the thing. You'd rather him fall in love with you as he got to know you, not some superficial shit like love at first sight. You scoff inwardly to yourself. "Then what are you saying?"

"I'd seen you a few times around campus before that day at the beach," he admits something you had no prior knowledge of. "And yeah, I'll confess, I thought you were hot — no, beautiful — but it's not like I was desperate to find out who you were."

"Great boost of confidence, thanks."

He shakes his head at your drooling sarcasm, grinning. "Make up your mind, sweetheart. Do you want me to be ridiculously enthralled with you, or do you want me to be honest?"

You bite down on your lower lip to keep the sly smirk from painting on your lips but he notices it anyways, so you give up and let it out. "You walked into that one."

"Anyway, I'd seen you before. Multiple times, probably. But the day, when we made eye contact? When you actually spoke to me? Something extraordinary happened then," he says matter-of-factly. "And I know you felt it too."

Does he have no sense of shame? Or where you just strung too tight? Your eyebrows lift up as you scoff lightly at him. "I've never seen a guy that throws around 'love at first sight' without looking at least a little bit embarrassed."

Chanyeol shrugs, not caring, a small smile gracing his features. "What can I say? You bring out the different sides of me."

You highly doubt his statement. For whatever it's worth, you think Chanyeol to be the kind of person that has little to no shame about the things that he holds close. The tension around your stomach uncoils itself and you loosen into the sofa.

"Okay, I'll admit, I did feel something." You raise a hand and scratch the skin under your eye. "Where are you going with this?"

"I don't want you to run off again. This connection between us? I wanna explore it."

"Me too."

His eyes light up like Christmas candles and for a second you're tempted to reach out and brush the tips of his hair and before you can weigh pro's and cons of it, you push forward and do just that. When he leans into your touch though, the entirety of your insides feels content.

Chanyeol says he wants to take things slow — for your sake — but at this moment, you want everything other than slow. You want his hands on you, you want his body flushed hard against your body, you want him with every fiber of your being. No halfsies this time. You feel safe with his hands wrapped around you and by shit, you want them around you right now. But you promised to abide by these new set of rules, you're not going to rush anything. You're not going to repeat your father's mistakes, you're not —

He clears his throat and your attention flitters back to him, your ears fiery hot because you've been caught absent-mindedly thinking about him. "Kissing you isn't rushing it, is it?"

An airy giggle bubbles up from your throat. "Are you asking for permission?"

"That and I hope we're both on the same page."

You shake your head at him. "I would never mind kissing you, Channie."

Maybe it's your nickname for him, maybe it's the permission you've given him, but either way, he's kissing you before either of you can think. And it's the kind of kiss that goes from a dim kindling to an inferno in one hot second.

His tongue slides through your parted lips in a deft stroke and you gasp at the intrusion. It takes about a millisecond — you're not counting — before you're kissing him back. Tongue dancing in intricate moves with his for a few earth-spinning moments. You can't seem to get close enough. Your fingers want to pull at his clothes but you still have an inkling of rationality to push them through his hair instead.

In stark comparison to the last time you kissed him, you are positive that this time, you're not the only one. Chanyeol winds one set of his fingers behind your neck, the other cradling your face, and tilts your head to the side to deepen the kiss. Your body presses deeper into his and his large frame steadies yours as he lets out an intensified groan that zips straight to your core.

"Tell me to stay," you breathe out, barely a whisper. Your body language speaking volumes in and of itself as you try, desperately, to catch your breath.

Your on either side of his lap now, your legs spread out. Chanyeol's head rests cooly on your forehead and for one dark moment you imagine him with all his clothes off on the floor and your bodies getting closer in more ways than one.

"No."

His answer startles you into clarity and for a brief minute or two, you stare at him shocked. Did he just? You open your mouth several times before you close it again. Willing everything you have inside yourself to say something back.

"Y-you don't want me to?"

Chanyeol shakes his head, a ghost of a smile not on his lips but in his eyes. "I don't want to command you to stay. If you want to stay then stay."

Yeah, that's all well and good. "But do you want me to?"

"I'm not saying this for my own benefit. I want you to make this decision. If you want to stay here — if you want to stay with me, then, I want you to do it because you want to. Not in some roundabout way to please me."

You have no idea where this relationship is heading towards but you know that you're heart is already there with him. For such a long time, you'd believed that being alone was the answer and that you would be better off like that but now, you're not sure anymore.

Being with him is like being on a high. Not the kind of high that makes you feel bad when you hit your lowest point. It's different. It's a kind of high that pulls you up, drags you up from the ground and throws you into the sky, teaching you how to fly — maybe — along the way.

There's a door inside of you that Chanyeol is knocking on and finally, you open it. "I want to stay."

And Chanyeol doesn't slam the door shut. "I want to stay with you too."

Chanyeol keeps you to that promise of taking you out on numerous dates. You can't count with two hands how many you've been on in the last month or two or three. Point is, you're spending more time with Chanyeol than with Sehun, [he's characteristically jealous], but you don't mind it.

This time you're back on a beach. Not the same as the first one you'd gone to, instead you and Chanyeol had driven an hour and a couple more to a different one that promised clear water and bustling people. The only thing seemingly true about that statement is the people. But it's not like you could do much harm to something you found on the internet, so you let it slide.

It's supposed to be date #24, but you're not counting. He's perched on the sand, scribbling away in that leather-bound book of his and you're busy taking shots of other people that peak your interest. You like dates like this, the ones where the two of you enjoy each others company more than anything. Sometimes when his eyes catch yours, he throws a silly face your way and you make it a point to stick your tongue at him and stomp away.

Once you've decided that you've taken enough photos for the day, or maybe it's just the exhaustion finally catching up to you, you flop down on the sand beside his body. He flips his notebook shut and glances your way, a really wide smile gracing his face. And shit, you feel amazing when he smiles at you.

"Question."

He lies on his back, body incredibly close to yours. "Fire away."

"You ever heard of sporks?"

"A what now?"

You roll your eyes at him, plowing your hands through the sand and reveling in the feeling of it cascading through your fingers. "I know you heard me. Please don't make me repeat my idiocy again."

He chuckles at that. "If you don't mind me asking: what the fuck are sporks?"

Sitting up, you clear your throat, preparing to give him a lecture for a lifetime.

"They're like forks but also spoons. You've never seen one of those before? They kind of look really stupid and are really inefficient but they sound cool so..." you shrug your shoulders.

"You're trying to tell me that a bunch of stuffy old people at some big company sat down in a meeting and came up with...that?"

You nod your head, shooting him a faux-prideful smile. "That's right. One of man's many wonders."

He rolls, literally he does, across the sandy plain. His throaty laugh coming out in breaks as he clutches his sides in despair. You laugh alongside with him, albeit not as loudly, and watch him as he claps his hands like a seal. It's endearing, really.

"Question." He says a thousand minutes later when he has finally regained composure, sitting cross-legged in front of you.

"Shoot."

"Did you ever think of me as naïve?" His eyebrows furrow at his own question. "Maybe not now, but before?"

You tap your lower lip as you mull over it. Well, you wouldn't say that Chanyeol was naïve. Hopelessly optimistic, yes, but not downright naïve. But maybe that can be considered as naïveté to some degree? You have no idea but you decide to go with it.

"Maybe a little. I mean, you were talking about all that love love stuff and I was skeptical about it so, of course, it seemed like you were naïve to me."

"Great," he drowns in his own sarcasm. "How about now?"

"Uh, lets just say your hopeful optimism is one of the reasons I love you."

"So, you love me." If it's a question or a statement you don't know.

"Was this just some roundabout way to get me to say that?" You scoff at his antics, shaking your head in mock-disappointment.

He raises his hand in surrender. "What? Me? How dare you accuse me of such a thing?"

You burst out laughing at him, small — ridiculously small — tears bundle at the edges of your eyes. "I love you, Chanyeol. I thought we'd already gone through this?"

You had... Maybe a month ago? You're not that good with the semantics but one night in the fast food joint near your apartment, the two of you were having one of your impromptu get-togethers. You'd tried and succeeded in stealing a handful of his fries as he looked at his phone for a second.

He'd caught you in the act but had allowed you continue on. You smiled like you were insane and sighed out. "Man, I love you." At first, it shocked him more than it did you. You stared at the red tabletop for a good thirty seconds before Chanyeol snorted aloud and grinned at you, teeth and all. "Same, sweetheart."

For some reason, he hadn't asked you to explain anything. The two of you carried on, you with stealing his fries and him with stealthy taking out of your drink that he claimed to hate, but ended up worshiping. And for the first time, you realized that love wasn't something that came in with a bang! Yeah, sure connections happened like that. It was either there or it wasn't. But with love, it was something you couldn't hide. It brought you to life. And it was always there, whether you try to acknowledge it or not.

"We did," Chanyeol's voice brings you from the past. "But I'll never get over hearing you say it."

The insides of your stomach do flip flops and inhale dandelions. It's a beautiful feeling, to feel loved and to love someone back. Soon after that, because you and him promised to watch some new fantasy/horror movie that just came out, the two of you pack camp and head back home.

These days, you hang out more in his place than yours. Not necessarily because you want to. Sehun just seems to always have his girlfriend over and you'd rather not third-wheel if you can help it. Plus, it doesn't help that Chanyeol's apartment is super welcoming and compared to your apartment, the WiFi there is spectacular. And let's not forget, it's easier to steal his sweatshirts when you spend most of your time there anyway.

Getting home is faster than it was to go to the beach and you're surprised that neither of you are as tired as you had expected. Chanyeol is still wary of watching the horror movie though, he has this look on his face — like you kicked his puppy or something. You would never do such a thing but with the way he's looking at you, you wouldn't be able to tell.

"Relax, sweetheart," you fling the endearment haphazardly, grinning lopsidedly. "I'll protect you from the big bad murder guy."

The two of you are situated on his bed, his laptop on his lap. You're about to hit play for the film to start and Chanyeol looks like he's actively forcing himself not to scream. The movie hasn't even started yet.

"What if it's not a guy?"

You shrug. "Doesn't matter. I'll fight any monster that comes for you, sound good?"

He must figure that this is as good as it's gonna get because he nods and you immerse in the movie. He clutches your arm tight and doesn't let go but at least he keeps his eyes open. Forty minutes into the movie and you realize what a horrible mistake you've made. There's absolutely nothing great about this movie! The generic couple of college students that went somewhere with absolutely nobody for spring break, somehow end up pissing off the resident serial killer and hence have to survive.

As usual, everyone but the person that caused the whole mess dies first. You tsk at the laptop screen, highly dissatisfied with your choice of entertainment.

One of the women decides it’s a perfectly good time to go skinny dipping with the love of her life — they are supposed to be hiding from a murderer. What makes this a time to go have a sexed-up scene is beyond you.

"This bitch is stupid and now the only guy worth any common sense is gonna die."

"I thought you wanted them to die?"

"Not like this. They have to put up a fight for it to mean something. Now it's just like they want to die, you know?"

He doesn't know but he doesn't say. Even though you're not particularly loving the movie, Chanyeol seems to be enthralled by it. He seems to be the target audience the producer was aiming for. You rest your head against Chanyeol's shoulder; bored. At least one of you is enjoying it. Occasionally, Chanyeol's scream lights up the room and you laugh meekly at him while trying to subtly calm him down.

You're about ready to doze off when you hear the buzz from the front door. Someone's here. Your head jerks towards the wall-clock. It's almost 12 am. Why would someone feel the need to come over now? Chanyeol is gone with the movie and you figure you'd rather go and check who's there. Wary, you pull the covers away from your body and head to the living room.

The peephole in the door does nothing to tell you who's out there. All you can see is a maroon colored shirt, you sigh to yourself, unbolting the door and opening it slightly. Your breath hitches in your throat when you find Mai standing there. For a brief second, you're tempted to slam the door in her face.

Her expression darkens the moment her eyes find yours, her pretty face a mixture of shock, ugly jealousy and anger. 

"What are you doing here?" She demands like she has some kind of right.

Man, you're tired to a Capital T with dealing with this girl.

You've never prided yourself on being the bigger person, but you see yourself doing so right now. Holding your hands to your side.

"Ha, I think the more important question is, what are you doing here? And why? It's not like you're welcome or anything."

The wrinkles in her forehead — that you hadn't noticed before — tighten. "Can you not be rude for, like, one second?"

"Not exactly," you don't see the point in fueling this jealous rivalry she has going on.

She's the one that's been playing Ms. Rude since you'd set eyes on her. You wonder where she gets her self-confidence from and if you can get it in a bottle. And then you snicker at your own thought, cracking yourself up.

Mai decides to ignore your answer. "Is Chanyeol here?"

"He's watching a movie."

She nods her head, trying to peer on her tippy toes last you. "Oh, I see. How about you?"

This time you can't stop the snicker from leaving your lips. "What about me?" You cock your head to the side. "No, Mai," you pronounce the words extra slowly to prove a point. "I am not currently watching the movie."

Intense annoyance flares through her eyes. "Can I speak with Yeol? I need to speak with him. Can I come inside?"

You gawk at her for a second, maybe more. You can't believe her. In fact, you've never understood her at all. An enigma that you have no intention of trying to figure out.

"I don't think Chanyeol would like you coming inside his apartment unannounced. Why don't you try calling him and stop by some other time?"

Chanyeol's ex rolls her eyes as she twists her lips into an ugly frown. "He doesn't answer my calls. You think I would be here if he picked up?"

Well, you don't know.

"I think you should go."

"Look, I need to talk with him."

She emphasizes the need part so eloquently that you have the urge to ask. "Why?"

Mai doesn't like to be questioned apparently, because she scowls even harder. "That's none of your business, __."

Classic Mai, fucking up your name for some type of dominance quest.

"It's [Y/N]," you force out in a pseudo airy voice. "Which I know you know. And you know what?"

She doesn't move a muscle to interrupt so you press on, sneering at her. "I know you're trying to make me feel like I'm having your leftovers or something by purposely messing my name up every goddamn time you see me, but it's not working. You can call me whatever the heck you want and it won't change the fact that I'm Chanyeol's girlfriend."

And you know, you shouldn't be egging her on. It's only going to bite you in the ass later on but by fuck, you can't stop. The sight of this woman—this woman who had the most beautiful man [in and out] in the whole world and then proceeded to cheat on him with some low life sets you on fire. You can't shut up and frankly, you don't even want to.

You push the door open a little bit wider. "He loved you. He's been keeping the truth about you from his mom for months. His entire family thinks he cast you aside when in reality, you're the one that shattered his heart. You're the one that made him feel like he'd never be enough. He didn't tell Yixing, your best friend, what you truly did. Everyone thinks you're some kind of victim, bullshit."

It's a small tick but you see a part of herself cringe back at your words.

"But you don't deserve it," you tell her. "And you don't deserve anything with Chanyeol. You're here to apologize, right? To try and win his forgiveness so he never talks to his parents and Yixing about it, right? You don't want anyone to think of you as a monster, even if you know you are one."

This time she has the decency to feel embarrassed or maybe humiliated. You can't be bothered to look for the difference. It doesn't matter to you either way.

"B-but I love him," she says, and for what it's worth, some hidden part of you hears her.

You're sure your mother loved your dad. Or at least, at some point she did. But humans have to be held accountable for their actions. If only everything could be forgotten. If only. But people's hearts don't deserve to be trampled on like that. They don't deserve to have their trust severed by someone they would've given all their days for. And you'd be tenfold stupid to ever agree with ideals like that.

"Do you realize how unfair your love is?" There's a sharpness to your voice you don't recognize.

Mai is stunned into silence and you bite your lower lip, contemplating if you should go on. And maybe it's the look in her eyes that says she's not ready to give up that makes you add your next sentences.

"I won't stand for you weaseling your way to him only to break him again. I'll tell him you came by but honestly, if he asks for my opinion on the matter, I'll tell him you're not worth any of his time."

"[Y/N]," she pleads. There's a huge desperation swimming in both her voice and eyes.

"You hurt Chanyeol. I'm not letting you hurt him again. So you can go back home. Pick up your phone and call him because I'm not letting you into his apartment."

"Or don't at all."

His throaty voice grips you and has you whirling around, startled. Even Mai looks shocked beyond compare. He pushes forward and looks down at Mai directly and she cowers a little bit. He sighs out, running a hand through his spazzed hair.

"Look, Mai. You exhaust me. If someone ignores your phone calls, the general consensus is that they don't want to talk to you, isn't that correct?"

She doesn't nod but you're certain that if she could, she would've. But instead, you answer in her stead. "That's right."

"Exactly," he smirks at you through your haze before turning back to his ex. "I really don't want to talk with you. Every time we do, I get drained of all my happiness and end up hating you even more. You already made your decision and I've made mine."

Moments pass with the three of you standing like that, not doing anything. And you think maybe Mai has become incapable of using her words. You clear your throat and two pairs of eyes flicker onto your frame.

"And that's that. Drive safely," your voice has softened but you're sure she can hear the finality in it.

You don't know what she does next because before she can do or say anything, you're closing the door in her face. Happy to finally not be looking into her eyes. Ah, you hate this ex business. You never know how Chanyeol would feel about you crossing over this line. You never talk about Mai with him and you don't want to start now. But maybe it's good he knows? What if she comes back again and—

"You know, I've never had someone defend me like that."

"Must be dating the wrong people."

He chuckles and this is the first time you've seen him not get emotionally down after seeing Mai. And God, if it doesn't feel good. You reach forward and wrap your hands around him, drowning in the smell of him and the rigid feel of him.

"Yeah," he laughs out. "Must be."

You grin into his shirt. "How much did you hear?"

"Almost all of it. Can't believe you adore me this much, [Y/N]." His hands close tighter around your torso and you breathe out deeply.

"Yeah well, you would've done the same."

Feeling him nod, your ears heat up and you pull back from his body in hopes that he doesn't notice it but he does and his smile looks like it could carve heaven right in your chest. He reaches down and traces his fingers across your cheek.

"More likely than not. I mean, I do love you."

He cups your cheek and you lean into it. You have Chanyeol. Not for a halftime. Not just parts of him. Not the good parts that he just wants to show you. You have all of him. Everything. The character flaws, the greatness — everything.

Relationships had always seemed like a type of addiction that people had fallen into willingly but now, with this guy that made you want to glide across the earth with him. You realize that you will gladly allow it drag you down and consume you, especially because he's right by your side. He had waited for you and now, you waited for him. It's about opening yourself up to one another, imperfections and all, trying to find a half that fits with you.

It's a craving for something deeper. Something the words in Chanyeol's book or the pictures you take can't depict. It's something you feel and only then can you truly understand why it's important to not be so alone.

"I love you," Chanyeol pecks the tip of your nose and then the side of your mouth. "I love you," he says again, this time obnoxiously. He grabs your face between both of his palms and continues the process everywhere else.

You try to squirm from his lips. "Oh my gosh, stop!" But when he doesn't, you drag your body away from him — a huge feat in and of itself — and run as fast your legs can carry you back to the solace of his room and slam the door closed, leaning against it.

"Hey! Open up! I'm trying to love my girlfriend here!" He shouts, cackling, as he pounds mockingly on the door.

"Shut up! I'm not opening this door unless you promise to not slobber all over my face."

"How can I promise something so—"

You kick the door with the side of your foot as a warning and he backtracks.

"Of course, I'll stop. I'll swear." He chants tauntingly but you pull the door open anyways.

Not expecting him to push the door open so fast, you practically jump back until the heel of your foot feels the edge of the bed. You wag your finger at him with as much fervor as you can muster. "Don't do it."

But he does it. And suddenly your back is on his bed, his face inches from yours, his body hovering above yours and your breaths mangling into each other. He doesn't move any closer, so you do the honors of pushing up on your elbows and planting your lips on his. It's intoxicating and has you giggling in minutes. He abides with your demands quickly, not wasting time in tangling his tongue with yours.

"Love you," he pulls away from your lips and proceeds to kiss all over your face but this time you're smiling uncontrollably.

"Say it again."

He does and how your body sings. And then another realization dawns on you. If love was a competition, you're learning a lot from him. You don't need Chanyeol. Christ, no. You want him. You want him so much that it consumes you and fuels you up. He's teaching you that you don't have to walk through fire to prove you want him or love him and there's no need to be so nervous about the things you don't know.

This is foreign territory, sure, but he's showing you the ropes. And with the way he's looking at you, you can't exactly complain. He uses a hand to raise the end of your — his — shirt up and his lips placate themselves on the most sensitive points of your stomach.

Yeah, he's definitely on a mission to show you all the affection you've been missing. One touch on your heart at a time.

a/n; this is the end of whiplash!! i really hope you enjoyed it and please send me feedback or anything you liked from it :)) thank you so very much for reading! and please do tell me if you liked this!! im happy you stayed with me >.<

⇢ masterlist

©️ 2018 kai, moonbelt [aka high-on-food]

[dailyaudiobible]

02/18/2018 DAB Transcript

Leviticus 6:1-7:27, Mark 3:7-30, Psalms 37:1-11, Proverbs 10:3-4

Today is the 18th day of February. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I'm Brian. It is wonderful to be here with you today. It is a travel day today, a long, a long one at that. We’ll talk about that in a little bit. We’ve got a brand-new shiny, sparkly week just waiting to unfold before us. And we will step into that week by taking the next step forward in the Scriptures. Of course, we’ll be picking up where we left off yesterday. This week will read from the God's Word Translation. Leviticus chapter 6 verse 1 through 7 verse 27.

Commentary:

Alright, so, in the book of Mark we encounter this story where when Jesus is being accused of being in league with the devil. And that's where he's getting his power to cast out devils. Now, as I'm mentioned when we began the book of Mark, Mark was the first Gospel to be written. Next in time, over a decade later, came Matthew. But we saw this story in Matthew and we talked about it. We talked about the unpardonable sin. The synoptic Gospels – Matthew, Mark, and Luke - share similar stories. A lot of the source material for the stories in Matthew and Luke are found in Mark because that's where they were first documented. So, we talked about this story when we read through this story in Matthew but now let’s take another pass. Let’s not just talk about this unpardonable sin, let's talk about what Jesus is saying. The accusation is that Jesus is throwing out demons by the power of the prince of demons. And Jesus response is, ‘how can Satan force out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot last.’ Right? So, we’re all on the same page. Right? That would be civil war. And that will only undermine the infrastructure of the whole. The kingdom will come apart at the seams. There's plenty of historical precedents throughout human history for this being true. Okay, so let's take it out of, you know, historical empires and land it squarely in our own laps, because Jesus went on. ‘And if the household is divided against itself, that household will not last.’ Okay. So, Jesus has given a very comprehensive answer here. From a cosmic perspective, he’s saying, how can Satan force out Satan. And then He moves more toward society and the governance of society. ‘If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot last.’ And then he brings it down into every home. ‘And if the household is divided against itself, that household will not last.’ So, if our homes are a war zone then we could probably say that our house is divided against itself, and that household will not last if it stays divided against itself. And we see this kind of unrest in the world. Right? So, like, I mean, I know it's all over the world. But I happen to live in the United States. So how long can we say we are one nation? So, we are one people under God. We just happen to disagree about everything and we fight each other all of the time. Right? How can we say we are one house under God? We too have come together into the covenant of marriage and no longer are we two, we become one, we become this thing, we establish this household, we are in this together when we are completely at each other's throats, all the time undermining the infrastructure of our home. Things can’t last that way. With our own two hands we tear it apart. Or probably better spoken, with our own two tongs we tear it apart. With the same lips that we use for affection, we shoot bullets at each other and that won't stand. And all we’re doing is sabotaging ourselves. And, I mean, this isn’t a the new thing. This has been going on in the world a long, long time. And I know there are all kinds of struggles in marriage. It's a hard job. However, the job isn’t going to get easier until we can get on the same page about what Jesus is saying. Our divided allegiances will not work out in the end. Civil war inside our homes isn't going to lead us on the narrow path that leads to life. And until we can get on the same page about that, because that’s the bedrock. Until we can get on the same page about that we can never begin to explore together or with the help about why we’re doing the things that we’re doing, about what we’re actually fighting for, what we’re trying to accomplish in our attempts to dominate. Until we can get on the same page it says, I am in covenant with you. You are a part of me. I am a part of you. We have this household that we've formed together that we’re tearing down brick by brick. This isn't going to work. We have to do something different. This is not going to work until we can begin to practice what Jesus commanded us. Forgiveness. It’s not going to work. So, maybe it's time to put down our weapons, all of the soft spots that we know about each other that we constantly go after that simply…I mean…when we hurt each other we’re hurting ourselves. It’s not going to work. I remember when I was a little boy, probably younger even than my son, Ezekiel, who’s five. And my mom was giving me a bath. And I’m just a little kid and I peed in the tub. And she told me, don’t do that. That's like peeing on yourself. That's exactly what we do we go to war with each other inside of our own homes. There is no upper hand to get. We’re one. We’re in this together. We’re in covenant. There isn't anything to win. Attacking our spouse is like attacking our self and it won’t work. It won’t work out in the end, which isn't to say that there are never any difficult conversations in relationships. There are plenty of them, but it's how we go in. If we bring the strong artillery and the show of force in and were just, like, aimed at each other, that's not going to get anywhere. We see in Jesus a person who always looks for the story behind the story, the plot, what’s really going on and he begins to speak to what's really going on. And when we can have those conversations, ones where we know that we are in this together and we’re not holding this over each other, we’re practicing forgiveness, and we’re trying to find the path together forward, well, then all things are possible.

Prayer:

Father, we invite You into our relationships, our marriages, the work of becoming one, the work of being in a covenant. And even as we see in the book of Leviticus, all of the work of being in a covenant as a people, we see that this this comes down into our own lives. It's work. To be in covenant with You, it requires daily, moment by moment surrender. Its work to be in a covenant with our spouse. It’s daily moment by moment surrender to Your leadership. And, so, we invite You. We have lots of conversations that we need to have. There’s all kinds of stuff going on. Sometimes it's like such thick dense forest we don't even know how to get in there. And we wouldn't know where to begin to weed out and cut, but You do. You do. And, so, we surrender ourselves to Your Holy Spirit. We’re asking You to speak God. Show us where to tread and where not to. Show us how to move in this direction because a house divided against itself will not last and we believe You. So, come, Holy Spirit, and show us how not to be divided against ourselves. We pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Song:

Sara Groves

I Feel The Love Between Us

Baby this isn’t like young love

No, this is like an underground river

Flowing over iron and iron

Shaping all the takers and givers

 I feel the love between us

 We just walked into some history

You can’t ignore a beautiful past

Full of redemption and mystery

Holding up the things that will last

 I feel the love between us

 Love is a diamond hidden in mountains

Covered in danger and dirt

I’m on the outside digging and digging

I’ve seen and I know what it’s worth

 Love is a diamond hidden in mountains

Covered in danger and dirt

I’m on the outside digging and digging

I’ve seen and I know what it’s worth

 Baby this isn’t like young love

No this is like an underground river

I feel the love between us

[uomo-accattivante]

You’ve been very busy recently with a number of projects, including OPERATION FINALE, can you tell us a bit about what are you working on now?

The Eichmann movie [OPERATION FINALE] starts shooting in the Autumn. It’s the first time I’ve been through this  process and it’s exciting. And I’m also working on a political thriller with a wonderful director. So yeah, juggling those little guys.

So how do you juggle multiple projects? How do you manage?

That’s a really good question. Very little sleep is part of it. A bigger part involves dividing my day. I try to be disciplined with getting up really early and finding a cut-off point in the day that allows me to switch over to something else, so I can work five or six hours on one project, take a pause, go and have lunch, and spend the same amount of time on another one.

A lot of the management of this stuff is quite admin-y, so it’s also about not letting the admin side of it overwhelm the creative side. So I try to turn my phone off all day, unless it’s a window of time when I’m replying to emails and doing calls, just to make sure there’s enough time to focus on the creative things, because ultimately that’s what’s important.

You don’t want to spend more time writing emails than scripts.

Exactly. Sometimes it really feels like you’re doing that.  This is the other thing as well, working with America they’re obviously eight hours behind, so people will sometimes ask, “Can you do a call at 1 PM?” and I just don’t think about the fact that that’s at 9. So that’s where the lack of sleep comes in.

But there are fun parts of it too. Yesterday I got to have a long call with our wonderful director, Chris Weitz, and an anesthesiologist about anaesthetics that were used in the 1960s. Those kind of calls are always worth staying up for.

SELLING A SPEC

In terms of OPERATION FINALE, am I right in thinking that was a spec script?

It was a spec script. Originally a friend put me on to the idea, and then I started doing a little bit of digging around. I thought it was a great story about the formation of Israel. It’s this huge moment in this country’s history, the first real moment where Israel was presented with an opportunity to hold its past executioners to account.

This was an incredible moment for a country which had for 12 years done its best to ignore the Holocaust. There are all these amazing and awful stories about Holocaust survivors being called nasty things and forced into poor housing, being ignored rather than comforted.

When I went to Israel and spoke to people, universally the one thing that they all remembered about the Eichmann trial was that it was this moment of national catharsis. It was this moment of them finally confronting the past, mourning together, and finally being able to move on.

And I, in reading about the main character, this guy Peter Malkin, found someone who personified that journey really well. He’s this guy who’s haunted by the death of his sister, who died, she and her children, during the Holocaust, though not via Eichmann’s hands.

He’s this guy who’s stuck in arrested development and he begins to imbue this mission to capture Eichmann with the sense that this might be the thing that will allow him to move on with his life, as opposed to someone who’s haunted by his past tragedy. That to me mirrored the story of Israel.

As I started to dig into that, I was lucky enough to make contact with the son of the anesthesiologist who ended up putting Eichmann to sleep. It’s incredible, you go to Israel and speak about this story and strangers in a cafe will overhear, and say, “Come over here, over here, come talk to me!” You don’t get any work done, but it’s brilliant, it’s an amazing country.

I slowly ran myself into more and more debt doing research trips like that, but then ultimately I had this script which MGM bought, and that was a really big moment.

That’s the dream when writers sit down to write a spec script. What was it do you think that was in that script that appealed to MGM? What something made it stand out among all those other spec scripts?

I wish I knew the answer to that! It’s a story that has been told several times before, but never really, and I hope it’s okay to say, never really to great effect. For one reason or another, people have tried to glorify it in the wrong way, or they focused on the wrong bits, or they tried to present Eichmann as someone different to who I think he was.

One of the sources that really inspired me for this story was this amazing book called Eichmann Before Jerusalem by a woman called Bettina Stangneth, a brilliant historian.

She presents a very alternative vision of Eichmann, not as Hannah Arendt presented him, as this banal bureaucrat, but actually as this sort of social chameleon. A performer who could read audiences really well, who knew exactly what kind of character and personality to affect to get certain things out of the people he was sitting across from.

We go to great lengths to humanise Eichmann in our story. I think that only serves to make him all the more unpleasant and unbearable when we finally get a glimpse of his true self. But it’s his humanity, his weakness, that’s what forces the Mossad agents to really question who this guy they’ve caught really is.

That was a very long-winded way of saying that I think there was an interesting antagonist. It had a clear structure – they capture him at the midpoint but then are forced to stay in Argentina for 10 days, and so the forces searching for him slowly draw closer and closer.

And I love the ending, I won’t tell you what it is, but there is a final moment that ties the story together and that is my favourite part of the whole thing. It is the one thing that has been left untouched. So a compelling villain and a clear structure really helped.

One last question on this creative development, in terms of creating something that appealed to the studio, ultimately commercially. How calculated were you when you were writing it? Was that a thought at the forefront of your mind, or in your mind at all?

That’s a really good question. There’s an appetite at the moment for true stories, obviously. We can see this when we look at the films that are playing at the cinema. So that’s one thing.

Another is finding a theme that speaks to something higher than the actual content of the film. If you can make it “about” something universal, or have a theme that really matters to you or society – say, female empowerment, or letting go of the past – and allow that theme to permeate your script, without distracting from a compelling story, then you’ll be on to something good.

Having something that you can immediately put on a DVD shelf, like “OK, right, this sits roughly between ARGO, MUNICH and ZERO DARK THIRTY.” It’s in there, somewhere. That’s quite helpful.

One thing that I was quite militant about was making sure I had a clear midpoint, a very clear end to Act II and a very clear climax. They’re all these archetypal story beats, that I hope I made my own and original, but ultimately they’re there. There’s nothing “art house” about it.

So basically, big themes, high concept, so, “it’s a thriller, it’s a kidnap movie.” It fits into clear marketing spaces. And then the last thing I said, which was not art house. Not art house, but not wanting to succumb to a temptation of maybe being too clever, or to outfox the audience.

One of the things that my scripts often suffer from is that I try to be too smart too early. That’s not to say that’s always a bad thing, but I pump intellectual ideas into something that should be much simpler.

Often that’s because I haven’t quite cracked what a scene should be, or what the emotional core of it is. So I’m like, “it might be interesting if they’re talking about this or that or whatever,” and often in my vomit drafts I’ll see that there are cool conversations but the characters aren’t speaking, I am.

But that’s almost part of your drafting process?

It is, yeah. Because within that you find really interesting themes and ideas and strands that you can pull on. And then suddenly you find the subtext of a scene, what the characters might really be having a conversation about beneath the context of the scene. You can then reveal that with just the smallest turn of phrase, some suggestion or comment that just speaks to a much higher idea or tension to the scene.

In my favourite scripts of mine I can now see those moments where there was once a scene that was two pages long and it’s now half a page, and contains just a very concise observation on people, or humanity, or human nature, or legacy, or something.*

*Read the rest of this article here (it’s good, but  it’s a long one!): https://screenplayscripts.com/matt-orton/

[josephborrello]

Magnitude and Direction, Issue #42 | 20 Sep 2019

Hardware, Prototyping, and Fabrication

‍♂️ These robots learn how to dig holes by watching humans do it. (So does one dig, while 4 others watch?) ✝ Robot priests are giving new meaning to the term deus ex machina. (I hope you thought that was as witty as I did.) It's amazing how much stuff (and people) you can fit into a fire truck (or ambulance, or rescue helicopter...)

Software and Programming

➕ generated.space is a great collection of very aesthetic, generative artwork. ➡ This AI tries to make emojis more lifelike and is neither particularly good, nor necessary. It is, however, very scary. Clippy is back. Ironically, he's back on Mac, not Windows. (He's also available for websites, like here for example.) The Recomendo newsletter did a better job describing this than I did, so I'll just re-print what they've written:

"I’ve waited all my life for a tool that would create art for me. It’s here. Artbreeder is a website that breeds new visual images from existing images. Using deep learning (AI) algorithms it generates multiple photo-realistic “children” mutations of one image. You — the gardener — select one mutant you like and then breed further generations from its descendants. You can also crossbreed two different images. Very quickly, you can create infinite numbers of highly detailed album covers, logos, game characters, exotic landscapes. I find it fiendishly addictive. Wanna see the zoo of unearthly creatures I found/made? (Note: If Artbreeder is not out of beta use Ganbreeder, it’s predecessor.) — [Kevin Kelly]"

Science, Engineering, and Biomedicine

You've heard of "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!" but have you heard of "I Can't Believe It's Mostly Water!"? Also on the topic of water, pulling moisture out of thin air in arid, desert climates won't only be the stuff of sci-fi for much longer. The website Relativity, showing how recent observations of a star orbiting near the galactic core helps support Einstein's theory of general relativity, is a great example of the kind of science communication we need to be doing more of.

Mapping, History, and Data Science

There's a (near-infinite) world of colors out there for you to name! (I named one 'Jimmy') ⛓ Do you understand how the blockchain works? If not, maybe this data sonification/visualization will help (it probably won't but it sounds and looks really cool). The orientation of airport runways may not sound very interesting, but I was absorbed by this map almost immediately. (For example, what's with the pretty drastic East/West divide among US runways?) What were the most popular videos on Youtube a decade ago?

Events and Opportunities

We're within spitting distance of Fall and there's lots of exciting autumnal activities coming up:

Sunday, 9/22 The World Health Organization is hosting the first-ever edition of the Walk the Talk: The Health for All Challenge in the United States, being held over 4 miles in New York's beautiful Central Park. This fun run/walk will bring together people from all over the world for a celebration of health, on the eve of the United Nations General Assembly

Monday, 9/23 Derek Brand's monthly ECHO biotech gathering is back and, as always, bringing together some of the NYC area's most exciting life science startups and entrepreneurs.

Monday, 9/23 Coming off a great mid-summer meetup with the Health-Tech Connect group, the Mount Sinai Innovators Group is teaming up with them again for another event featuring some great pre-SINAInnovations topics: Artificial Intelligence and Assistive Devices. Both presenters have extensive experience in the healthcare startup space and this promises to be a can't-miss event!

Tuesday, 9/24 Join NYDesigns for a tour of their 5,000 square foot fabrication facility and learn about how you can make use of all the impressive equipment there at their upcoming open house.

Tuesday, 9/24 Join GeoNYC and Doctors Without Borders for a special map-a-thon to fill in missing geospatial data for underserved regions in order to provide international and local NGOs and individuals with the data they need to better respond to crises.

Wednesday, 9/25 The NYC JLABS crew is back for their next Innovators and Entrepreneurs mixer, which promises, as always, to be a great event to meet local life science startups and biotech enthusiasts.

Wednesday, 9/25 The RobotLab meetup's September event focuses on the good, the bad, and the ugly of Industry 4.0 and autonomous manufacturing.

Thursday, 9/26 Join GRO-Biotech, MSIG, and the Petri biotech accelerator at Mount Sinai for an info session on opportunities to get involved in their new startup program focused on helping formation-stage innovators realize the next frontier of biology and engineering

Thursday, 9/26 It's been touched on in previous Existential Medicine events, but the next science seminar collab between New Lab and JLABS dives deep into the revolutionary, and sometimes controversial technology of CRISPR. Use code "NewLab2019" to unlock the event registration.

Saturday, 9/28 Admission is just the swipe of a metro card for the Parade of Trains at the Brighton Beach station. Vintage train cars from all periods of the subway's history will be on display, as well as taking passengers on short trips around south Brooklyn.

Monday, 9/30 The NY Hardware Startup meetup is back with their regularly scheduled programming, which, in this case, means presentations from the likes of Lime, Light Phone, and more, down at General Assembly in the Flatiron.

Tuesday, 10/1 The next stop on Ogilvy's healthcare innovation pop-up series takes them to Hudson Yards, where they're teaming up with the HITLAB and SAP.iO Foundry for an event that will focus primarily on the female and underserved health innovators who are disrupting healthcare today.

Tuesday, 10/1 NYDesigns' next Women in Tech happy hour is back at Bierocracy in Long Island City. As always, individuals who identify as female and men are welcome to attend, too!

Wednesday, 10/2 The next edition of Larger Than Life Science at New York BioLabs is back and focusing on a crucial aspect of bringing healthcare innovations to market: preparing for and conducting clinical trials.

Some other upcoming events to keep on your radar...

Monday, 10/7 Join GRO-Biotech and Insight Data Sciences for a talk and Q&A about different careers in data, the most suitable backgrounds for each of them, and how Insight Data Sciences can help you make the transition.

Saturday, 10/12 The next edition of Hot Glass Cold Beer returns to the Brooklyn Glass studios in Gowanus, featuring live glass blowing, open studios, and effectively endless amounts of beer. As always, getting a ticker in advance (versus at the door) means you'll be guaranteed to get one of their hand-made glasses (which you can subsequently drink out of for the rest of the night).

October 11-16 Innovation Week at Mount Sinai. What started as just the SINAInnovations conference is now a week's worth of activities dedicated to bringing New York's biomedical innovation communities together. Here's the full lineup:

Friday-Sunday, 10/11-13 Mount Sinai Health Hackathon. The 4th annual Mount Sinai Health Hackathon will be an exciting 48-hour transdisciplinary competition focused on creating novel technology solutions for problems in healthcare. This year’s theme is Artificial Intelligence – Expanding the Limits of Human Performance.

Tuesday, 10/15 Careers & Connections 2019. October may feel far away, but I promise you it's not and you'll want to be sure to mark your calendars for GRO-Biotech's next big event, the Careers & Connections mini-conference and networking event, held concurrently with emerging healthcare technologies conference, SINAInnovations.

Tuesday & Wednesday, 10/15-16 SINAInnovations Conference. The Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai is hosting its eighth annual SINAInnovations conference around the theme of Artificial Intelligence. A range of talks and panels will focus on the explosive growth of AI in our society and in particular in medicine, featuring international thought leaders across the range of relevant domains.

Wednesday, 10/16 Right after Careers & Connections, GRO-Biotech is hosting a fireside chat at BioLabs with Adam Wollowick from Stryker and Jack Wu from Adlai Nortye on what a career in business development looks like and how you can start a career in bizdev.

Saturday, 10/19 New Lab's annual open house birthday celebration is back, with a theme this year of Light+Motion. As always, you can expect pretty much everyone affiliated with technology, design, science, and/or entrepreneurship to turn up for what's one of the bigger bashes of the year.

Saturday & Sunday 10/19-20 The biggest bi-annual graduate career symposium in the country is back at NYU Med showcasing all the career trajectories you can pursue post-PhD. This is one of the best opportunities for graduate students and postdocs to learn about the breadth of career paths for doctorates and an amazing place to network with the next generation of scientists. More info on the two-day conference can be found here, and the registration link is here.

Saturday, 10/26 The Future of Care conference is back at Rockefeller University featuring some of the latest breakthroughs in clinical care and the innovators helping shepherd them from bench to bedside. Apply to attend the conference by September 6th.

Tuesday, 10/29 Join Columbia Nano Labs for their annual Industry Day conference. Learn how you can use and leverage the Nano Labs facilities, hear from a panel of entrepreneurs who have done just that, and listen to faculty and technical experts discuss the way these sophisticated tools contribute to cutting-edge research. (Yes, this was rescheduled from the originally planed date of 9/5.)

Thursday, 10/31 Pitching your startup in front of investors doesn't have to be spooky. The Mid Atlantic Bio Angels 1st Pitch events offer NYC's biotech entrepreneurs the chance to pitch their innovations in front of a panel of real investors and receive critical feedback on their pitches and business plans. The 1st Pitch events are also a great place to learn about the latest innovations in the NYC biotech ecosystem and connect with some of its major players.

Friday-Sunday, 11/8-10 For 36 hours on November 8-10, HackPrinceton will bring together 600 developers and designers from across the country to create incredible software and hardware projects. They'll have swag, workshops, mentors, prizes, games, free food, and more.

Map of the Month

When we hear about the 2-3 Celsius increase in temperature that's going to set us on path to irreversible environmental changes, it often sounds like it's still a ways off. As this map from the Washington Post shows, that future is already becoming a reality in some parts of the US.

Odds & Ends

Bovine Obstruction. I can't explain this.

[thecoroutfitters]

Written by R. Ann Parris on The Prepper Journal.

Sprouts can be a great solution for preppers at all levels, as well as our animals. They can be had and done in a million and one ways, eliminate some of the climate issues we face in both hot and cold environments, require little space and little time, and are packed with nutrients. They also have some nice morale benefits, providing fresh green foods and sometimes even a crunch during times not much else will grow.

Wide Variety

If you don’t like sprouts, give them a second try. Just trying one or a few and giving up on them is missing out.

Personally, I’m not big on alfalfa or the “moo mixes”. They taste like grass to me, and I don’t dig the texture.

Flip around to radish. I love it, but it’s typically some hot and spicy stuff. If you packed a sandwich or wrap with radish, a lot of people would be unhappy, but it’s great for finger-picking snacks playing cards and flavoring anything from sandwiches and salads to soups and stir fry.

There’s a whole world to choose from, with a huge range of textures and flavors, from amaranth, brassicas and popcorn to pea shoots and sunflower.

Psst…Buy regular ol’ garden seed as often as possible – it’s the same stuff and will cost a lot less, especially while we’re in the sampling phase.

Once we’ve got them growing, we can use them in everything we would a lettuce or fresh vegetable – soups, stir fry, salads, sandwiches, stackers, omelets, and wraps.

Health Concerns

It’s never a good idea to eat one thing to excess, which is where a lot of problems come in with sprouts (and wild edibles). There are sprouts that pregnant women shouldn’t eat. Likewise, there are a few that will interact with preexisting medical conditions or herbal treatments. It’s not common or huge, but do a little research.

Types & Terms

As sprouts gain in popularity, culinary and botanical definitions are shifting, and it can be painful to keep track of the stage being discussed.

Most people neither need to know nor care if there should be a scientifically or government determined dividing line between the plant category and what we call it when we’re eating its leaves. Given what consensus conventions have repeatedly done to Pluto, I’d rather we all just live in peace with our immature edible greenery.

It’s not worth getting wrapped around the axle over. Many people and most specialists have foibles. I have my own knee-jerk at bullet-ammo and clip-mag mix-ups, and seeing an OP or heirloom seller proudly declare “Non-GMO!” like its particular OP or heirloom is special in that way, so I try to remember that some people care deeply about precise terms.

I’m using “sprouts” as an umbrella for the whole shebang anyway, cotyledons through baby leaves. Don’t be put out over it.

    Seed Sucks

A major consideration for preppers, is that sprouts and microgreens are an absolute seed suck. We’re going to eat them long before they have a chance to make more seed for collection.

There’s a really incredible ratio between many sprouting seeds and their green yields, with anywhere from a teaspoon to a tablespoon capable of filling a jar or 8×8” to 12×12” square, but it’s something to be aware of.

That seed use is one of the reasons we – as preppers especially – want to get the most bang for the buck out of our sprouts.

Growing Methods

When we grow wheat for a couple of days and then cook it as soon as it has “tails” from the roots, that’s sprouted grain (which hugely increases feed value for us, birds, and small ruminants, and can be cooked as-is for cereals, soups and “rice” side dishes, or ground for flour).

When we do sprouts in jars, that’s about the furthest stage we want to take them to. Leaves will start getting damaged (which leads to rot), and they’ll have more drainage problems if we let them go much longer.

Working in stackable trays we can grow a greater density for longer, due to the airflow.

Some types will grow to full-on baby leaves using just water and sunlight. Some may require a substrate of some kind to get there – paper towel, cloth towel, small pea gravel or aquarium stone that we keep lightly damp for them. Others will happily send roots through a mesh or grate into a drip-catch pan for the support and greater absorption they need.

Those can be a big boost for anyone with limited resources, whether it’s income or space now, or a prepper making the most out of their seed stash. It lets us get a lot more yield per seed and without added nutrients.

For others, we do need nutrients, and in some cases a soil or soil-substitute substrate. Sometimes, though, those nutrients can be as simple as sticking a used teabag or cheesecloth holding used coffee grounds in a gallon jug and using that for root-zone watering.

For the larger microgreens that need a little more help yet, I personally like good ol’ dirt, anywhere from a half-inch to an inch deep.

I’m not big into “needy” things, so I don’t always do sprouts the way others recommend.

I rinse jars 1-2x a day and angle them to drain. I sometimes use a gentle spray from a can or hose for bulk microgreens and sprouts, but for small amounts and delicate green sprouts at the cotyledon-leaf stage, I routinely just mist, and I routinely only water leafy sprouts once a day.

I also keep a damp cloth over my tray-grown sprouts if they’re in the house or arid conditions, with the lids over those, or I use clear “greenhouse” lids to help hold moisture.

In really humid conditions, I go with only the draped cloth so excess moisture can evaporate at will.

Play with it.

Especially small-scale, it’s a little like finding a sweet spot for sourdough starter. Where they are exactly on a counter changes their airflow and temperature. How densely we plant and how big we want our sprouts and microgreens will also affect how much attention they need and which methods work best.

Materials

We don’t need specialty jars or lids. We can poke tons of holes in a peanut butter tub or cover any ol’ jar with a sock, torn shirt, or garden mesh.

I do still use my original Sproutmaster trays at home. I gave up on the divider early on and went to a paper towel liner, but they’re way sturdier than I expected when I first unwrapped mine and they’re handy enough, stack well enough with thin dish towels between the tray and lids.

(DO NOT believe that the mini’s —or the jar versions – will work for packing. It requires rubber bands, bungees, and it either ends up not draining or you end with drips.)

When I expanded, I didn’t buy more. It’s too easy to wrap a dish towel or storm mesh around a baker’s drying rack if I want improved drainage and airflow, or line anything from a lasagna pan to a 1020 tray with the same, a paper towel, or soil, or just arrange a tilted bracer and put in drainage holes above seed height on one end.

It works, whether giving them gentle sprays or mists, dunking the whole tray real quick, or approximating a flood-drain hydroponics or aquaponics system where we pour on one side and let it trickle across and drain.

Sprouted Fodder

Just like sprouts offer us condensed nutrients and nice, fresh, and even crunchy foods to augment our diets, sprouted fodder has a ton of benefits for livestock – https://www.motherearthnews.com/homesteading-and-livestock/sprouted-fodder.

Basically, it’s growing seed grains (and rarely beans) to the stage right before they develop true leaves, usually 7-9-12 days. It needs nothing more than water and some light in the last 3-5 days, and typically boosts proteins, minerals, and vitamins by 2-4 times as well as increasing the digestibility of the seed. Even non-grazing game birds like ducks can be fed sprouted fodder.

It, too, is a seed suck – but it has the same seed-to-mass conversion as human sprouts, too, 4-8 x the mass. And, remember, that mass is pound-for-pound 2-4x “better” in the common focus areas in livestock feed, as well as being more filling and covering more of the daily fiber/dry matter needs

The way some people grow, it’s also water needy. That can be reduced by reusing water from sprouted fodder in gardens, for larger livestock, and through the fodder system again after some base physical filtration (due to residues, it’s still going to need replacement after a few passes).

I have the best luck going with thin layers, not the “less than a half-inch thick” that others are able to make work. I tend to aim for 3-4 layers of seed in depth.

I also sprout more than barley, wheat and oats in my mats, everything from native pasture grasses and common hay seed mixes to millet, pigeon and partridge peas, vetch, and cow beans. As with fresh feeds, the latter get fed in much lower density due to richness, but I find it to be a nice boost.

I’ll also do mats of stockpiled bulk seed like forage turnips and beets when germination on those start to get lower than I prefer.

For some additional sprouted fodder information and setup ideas, check out:

https://104homestead.com/sprouted-barley-fodder/

https://www.attainable-sustainable.net/sprouting-grains-fodder/

http://blogs.cornell.edu/organicdairyinitiative/resources/sprouted-fodder/

I wouldn’t try to grow enough to truly feed livestock, especially large livestock, but even small amounts can see big boosts in production and health. (So can 2-4 day sprouting grains and beans, instead of feeding that grain dry or just-soaked.)

Sprouts for Preppers

Sprouts can check a lot of boxes for us and our livestock. We have to plan for the high seed use and additional drain on water supply, but it gives us an option for fresh foods and healthier foods even in very small spaces and commonly even without light.

Even if we’ve had some bad sprout experiences before, it’s worth giving them another go, from sprouted grains to microgreens and fodder mats.

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from The Prepper Journal Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag

[themomsandthecity]

Elisabeth Röhm's Blog: Navigating the Crazy World of Co-Parenting After a Split

Elisabeth Röhm is a busy mama! Best known for her roles as Serena Southerlyn on Law & Order and in films like American Hustle and Joy, the actress is currently starring as Aria Price on her Sony Crackle show The Oath. Röhm, 45, is also a proud mom to daughter Easton August, 10, whom she shares with ex Ron Anthony. The actress and mother of one can be found on Facebook, as well as Twitter and Instagram @elisabethrohm. Want all the latest pregnancy and birth announcements, plus celebrity mom blogs? Click here to get those and more in the PEOPLE Parents newsletter. RELATED: Elisabeth Röhm’s Blog: I’m Back — and Ready to Talk Parenting Post-Split I’m all for positivity and light, as anyone who knows me can attest to, but let’s pull the mask off this crap and talk about the hard stuff. Nobody ever promised us a rose garden, which of course we already knew. But this grownup stuff is not easy — and as much as we know, there’s so much we don’t know how to handle. Frankly, we learn as we go while turning to our village for guidance, support and love, like in this blogging universe at PEOPLE. Obviously, we know one of the big lessons in life is to never let ’em see you sweat. Grace under pressure can nearly feel like a slalom run at the Olympics, or cliff diving. I’ve done neither, but that’s how it feels for me sometimes. I’m sure you can relate. For those of us who are parents, we’re always dealing with that overwhelming life stuff about all things kid-oriented because everything they need, want and deserve is sometimes scary, emotional and hard to provide. I never want to let Easton down. Especially when we fail in a marriage to their other parent, we feel like we’ve failed in a real and huge way. So ladies (and gents, too), how do we navigate that ending and the new beginning of the new normal, I ask you? I’m breaking a sweat just thinking about the level of grace and strength that’s required in making co-parenting your No. 1 priority with your ex. It’s all about finding that grace and strength under pressure when, in our toughest moments, we feel like we’ve been brought to our knees. RELATED VIDEO: Peek Into Elisabeth Röhm’s Backyard Oasis They don’t give you a pamphlet for this part of the journey, either. I’m sure authors have written on the subject, but the aftermath of a separation and the longevity of being an advocate for someone whom you chose to part ways with not only at times feels near impossible but also requires nerves of steel, a huge heart and compassion for all the players who never intended for this family to go pear-shaped. And here’s where those Yoda skills come in to pull it all off for Easton. It’s a daily re-commitment to be decent and patient, and breathe with the ultimate goal in mind rather than my own ego. And this separated/divorced family stuff takes the superhero version of Yoda skills. Talk about achieving enlightenment. What do they call it these days — conscious uncoupling? “Steady as she blows” is a mantra that I try to live by within our fragmented family. Here’s the silver lining: You don’t have to live under the same roof as the person you struggled with, but the news flash is that none of it really goes away. You still have to sort out all the same family details and drama with a person you’ve chosen not to spend the rest of your life with and achieve real advocacy of each other while co-parenting on behalf of your child. RELATED GALLERY: Co-Parenting Confessions: What Celebrity Exes Say About Raising Kids Together Post-Breakup What they don’t tell you, as all of this comes crashing to the ground around your family, is that the problems just get replaced by new conflicts and stress between you and the person whom you struggled communicating and living with. On behalf of Easton, we both dig in and find more and more patience to co-parent from two separate homes. I’m not trying to be a downer, but I wish someone had prepared me for the daily struggle that is required with always taking the high road for your kid and prioritizing and valuing someone who has hurt you, let you down or just basically shared in the disappointment called your marriage/union/cohabitation. Yet we must, we shall and we do — those of us who realize each parent has a value in our little human’s life. I’d advise anyone now to think long and hard about separation because it is no joke and certainly not an easy fix in any way, shape or form. Let me not forget to mention how my beloved friends and family generally aren’t for the cozy conscious uncoupling, either — and of course, children do need boundaries and to not get their hopes up for reconciliation. There is a balance in there, somewhere, that we massage daily. I’m not suggesting to show all the love to the ex if they’re undeserving or a deadbeat parent. I’m saying that rather than be petty or right and let things dissolve into a puddle of nothing that it’s better for everyone to rebuild a new normal that respects both parents, even if you’re pretty sure you’re usually the “right” one. Weren’t we just talking about humility? The humility to work it out together and create moments of togetherness is a real thing, and I have seen it work in creating more confidence and less stress for Easton. Making the decisions together, even if one of the parents doesn’t agree, still works in creating a safe space in the family dynamic. RELATED: Swizz Beatz’s Ex Mashonda Tifrere Opens Up About Co-Parenting with Her Ex and His Wife Alicia Keys With those Yoda skills, endorsing what’s right for your child rather than digging your heels in to win — which is an easy knee-jerk reaction with someone you’re divided from — works for our “modern” family. I’m here to say, after four years in the desert of this subject, it’s true that the family unit still has to remain somewhat intact to care for, guide, love and grow this child into the best human they can be. Right, PEOPLE.com? I’m always eager to get the conversation started with you and together expose our truths and find our way to the other side of happiness! It goes without saying that children hate living in two homes and being schlepped back and forth and all of that becomes very complicated. Whether it’s their schedule, their after-school activities, their spiritual beliefs, sleepovers, travel, etc., there has to be a way to work it out — or, at least, we hope there is. Ultimately, we’re showing our children that though some things may end, they still have a solid core and foundation. Not an easy task with the ex but although it’s exhausting, it’s worth it to encourage a healthy relationship with the ex, whether it be small or big. Keep breathing and remember they’ll leave for college soon enough — in our case, only eight more Yoda years to go. Let’s keep talking about it, PEOPLE.com, because it certainly takes a village to fight another day and live to tell about it. We’re not alone in this journey. We have each other. Until next time … http://bit.ly/2C5LEca

[silviajburke]

3 Tricks to Trade Like A Pro (#3 Will Melt Your Heart)

This post 3 Tricks to Trade Like A Pro (#3 Will Melt Your Heart) appeared first on Daily Reckoning.

You may have heard that there’s been a higher than expected demand for our “7-Day Fortunes” event.

For good reason, too. The strategy that our resident “man on the trading floor” Alan Knuckman uses is unlike anything we’ve ever seen.

But…

With this demand came a whole flood of questions about Alan himself. Readers want to know more about the man behind this huge market opportunity, and the patent-pending tool behind his incredible strategy.

And I don’t blame them!

Even when he’s commentating on major financial news outlets like Bloomberg, CNBC, and Fox Business Network, Alan doesn’t share insights into his trading strategy. Which is why I sat down with Alan once again to dig even deeper into his strategies, and for tips on how to become a better trader…

Zach Scheidt: Good morning, Alan. Thanks for coming back to Baltimore on such short notice. But the people have spoken, and they want to hear more! Specifically, I’ve received several emails wanting to know more about you and the strategies you’ll be using in Weekly Wealth Alert.

Alan Knuckman: Any time, Zach. I’m hoping to create more of an open dialogue with readers anyway so these interview sessions will definitely help!

Zach: That’s great to hear, Alan. Let’s get to it. You just brought up some specific stocks before we began recording. So I want to ask, what are your five favorite stocks for right now?

Alan: All right. Well, let me give you my stock answer. My stock answer is that I’ll always switch to win. I don’t care what I trade. It’s whatever the best opportunities are. So it’s not so much what I trade, it’s how I trade. It’s the discipline. It’s the ability to have good risk reward plays that have high probability of success.

I come from the school where my mentality is about finding value, especially in this market rally that we’ve seen in the last eight or nine years.

Finding value in some distressed areas has been a recent favorite play of mine.

I’m talking some of these stocks that for whatever reasons had really bad news cycles. British Petroleum after the Deepwater Horizon incident was a big opportunity. Deutsche Bank, when it was at those low levels, around ten dollars, was an opportunity.

From a trading standpoint, I’m not necessarily trying to pick the bottom. What I am doing is using trading strategies on these distressed companies when they put me in a situation where I have increased reward potential for less risk.

These situations occur because most of the big news (and price movements) have already occurred.

I think we’re seeing that right now in the energy stocks and oil stocks. In the long run, I’m thinking that those have some room for recovery. But again, from a reward or risk standpoint, the trading strategies that I use are not to try and pick that bottom turn, but to position myself for success if and when that distressed or depressed sector does make a comeback.

Zach: Good insight, Alan. Now here’s another question that I think could benefit the individual, main street trader: What are three tricks that professional traders including yourself use to make money that you would think the average guy on Main Street is doing?

Alan: You know, it’s funny you specified three because I’ve got exactly three tips that I tell people that come up to me on the street or wherever all the time. Here they are…

Trick #1: I use options instead of buying a stock. That allows you to control your risk, control your probability, and increase your payoff. It’s all about putting the odds in your favor. Think about it, options give me a better payoff while also not tying up all of my funds. It’s a no-brainer.

Trick #2: A major difference between professional traders and amateurs is allocation. Here’s my recommendation in just basic terms: You want to divide your account or your portfolio into twenty slices of pie.

So in your account, each trade is only five percent. And of that five percent, you want to risk half of that. That’s a good rule of thumb that I use. Risk only half. And think about that for a second, under that strategy the most you could ever lose if a stock pulls back is 2.5%. That’s how you set yourself up for success.

Trick #3: Investors need to reward themselves. The reason you trade or invest is to make money. From time to time you need to reward yourself, and remind yourself what that money means and what you can accomplish with it.

Remember that you set your own terms. This is the world’s perfect business. You can make it fit your lifestyle by trading when you want to trade.

Investing can be very, very difficult and very, very draining and costly on your life and your lifestyle. That’s actually why I chipped into options, because I wanted to spend time with my young daughter and take the time to do things with her. Now every summer I take her to softball, take her to wherever she needed to go.

Using options allows me to step back and trade the bigger picture, with also a higher level of profitability. Which certainly beats getting in and out of the market multiple times over the course of one day…

Zach: Alright, Alan. One more question. Talking specifically about your “7-day fortunes” strategy, can you tell me a little bit more on how it works?

Alan: Absolutely, I’ll let a recent example answer that question…

Earlier this week, I saw unusual options activity for a company called NRG Energy. In particular, the $17 call options expiring July 21st had a volume of 18,000 on July 10th… Most of them being ‘buys’ for $25 per contract.

In other words, someone bought A LOT of cheap call options on July 10th.

That’s an insane amount of buying volume, considering the few days prior only had a couple hundred orders…

NRG stock closed at $16.12 on July 10th.

But on July 12th, just two days later, NRG skyrocketed to $21. Those $25 options jumped big time… they were worth over $400 in just TWO days. That’s a 1,500% gain!

Right now NRG is up even more… And those options are worth closer to $550.

Here’s the way I see it…

SOMEONE knew something about that stock – and if they cashed out at $550, we’re talking about nearly $10 million in pure profit!

Again, this is NOT back tested data. This was a stock that I was looking at before the big move… Just THIS week.

You see, insider moves still run rampant in the financial markets. That’s why I’m so excited about a recent development that could help our readers catch some of these big stock moves before the news is reports.

It’s all part of my “7-Day Fortunes” strategy. But, one of the key parts to the strategy that I’d like to share with you, is a patent-pending indicator. By sorting through billions of data points, this indicator gives us the chance to piggyback the insiders who (I think) have the advantage when it comes to trading.

It’s really exciting stuff. That’s why I’m glad we’re able to share this information today in our “7-Day Fortunes”  event.

Zach: Alan, thank you for your time. We’ll have to do this again soon.

Alan: Anytime, Zach. I hope the readers find this useful!

Here’s to growing and protecting your wealth!

Zach Scheidt Editor, The Daily Edge EdgeFeedback@AgoraFinancial.com

Twitter: @ZachScheidt Facebook: @TheDailyEdgeUSA

P.S. Here’s an urgent reminder…

Alan’s generous “charter membership” offer expires tonight at midnight.

If you want to learn more about the patent-pending indicator, and how you could use it for the chance to make big gains BEFORE big company news… you’re going to want to act now.

Click here to see Alan’s time-sensitive presentation.

The post 3 Tricks to Trade Like A Pro (#3 Will Melt Your Heart) appeared first on Daily Reckoning.

[60daysofbreaking-blog]

Day 5.2

Everyone draws themselves out to be the hero, Overselling their merits, down playing the faults. I’m going to try to play that down here.

-grass is always greener m I rite?-

This ones about my side, my angle on what we did for each other, maybe one day you’ll let me know yours. Probably not. Not that I see an amicable end anymore.

So i’m going to start with my cons, it’s easier. They’re always sitting around in my head somewhere waiting to haunt me.

I’d like to point out that tumblr fucking lost my post and i’m retyping from here. Fuck. First I’m sorry that I didn’t spend more time at your place and with your family, that I let you accommodate to my awkwardness and insecurity, and we always spent time at my place. I’m sorry I let that become our norm. It might not have seemed like much, yknow we we’re still together right? But no, I robbed you of time with your family, time in your own space , luxuries you afforded me and maybe that’s why you lost yourself, you were just too deep into me. You know how i’m always sweating the “ small ” things, how like I’m always fussing about things. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was fighting you about it, if I belittled your beliefs and watered you down. Truth of the matter is, like I told Joel, I’ve know for a long time that I would wife you, and despite my differences and yours, I would give you everything I could if you’d ask for it. Me fighting back sometimes would just be me fishing, trying to see if it really mattered, but more so you wouldn’t find out that I was such a pushover when it came to you. On some level I didn’t want to lose myself giving you everything, but on another I wanted to, but I just couldn’t let everything go so easily, I wanted to seem rooted, so maybe it seem like I could say no. I’m sorry if this divided us. For example, sometimes when you ask it’s not only about over promising, what if I promise and you take it for granted? I’m sorry I wasn’t vulnerable enough. I didn’t like to go out; and you really liked to go out. It got to the point where when we did go out, you’d tell me that you didn’t feel comfortable, that I was rushing you. I should have assured you it was fine. I didn’t. Since that failed, we fell into the situation where you would go out with you friends and I’d just be home waiting for you. Seems like a win win right? I get what I want and you do to. But thinking back I don’t think you did get what you wanted. You didn’t just need to be out, you didn’t need someone with you, on some level I feel now that you needed me to be there with you. I was never really one for mixers, and I slowly shied from contact under the umbrella of your love. It really didn't hit me till we were talking about me cutting my hair today. I was so dependent on you to finish my shit for me, to do my shit for. It's never really felt like much and I don't know if you noticed but yknow how we ordered food and I'd say what I wanted you and you'd do the rest. Yea it wasn't really nice to find that out today. And I guess you knew all along seeing how you are always afraid to take me out know that be a stick in the mud ruining your fun. I'm going to need to fix that about myself. __________________________________________ Now then let's talk about things I think I did do right, at least in my opinion. When I first met you I was in a weird place, I was running from my classmates, trying to find a safe haven for me to just set up shop and let walls down. I was finding some one I could click with, cause I needed to. This involved talking a a bunch of other girls. From early on I could pick up that you didn't like it, you were disturbed by them, more so than you'd like to admit so I got rid of them all and decided not to hang around girls anymore. What did I need them for? I had you. Sure the gay jokes about me were sad and yes it felt pretty lonely not having anyone to turn to but I don't know I felt if that help keep us happy, it was worth it. But now you're gone, and there's no one. Last point was sort of weak and the original captured more of how I felt but whatever i'm really numb now. The limbo of us talking is so weird. On one hand I like that you're here but it's not the same and it just makes me feel so insecure. Moving on, I know we were talking about unconditional love it's the other day, and you were saying that was what you gave me. Truth of the matter is you did, and I hope that I was able to give the same to you. I felt that I did my best to take care of you; ferrying you point to point, taking you out for meals and stuff, supporting you in everything you did. It felt nice, and sure you could say "Na fuck you, you just spent your parents money.. " you wouldn't be wrong but you're missing the point. I've never really been good about spending their money, and with you I could just do it guilt free because I knew it was worth it. Spending a years worth of my money so we could watch Coldplay, worth it. Waiting till 5am so I can send you home and make sure you were okay, worth it. Selfishly on some level I wish Rachel was still around. Her and Doug really made me shine, and hopefully in your eyes too. Yes she makes you shine too but you've always shined , that's why you're you. But I wish she was around to tell you how lucky you were, and what a dick other guys can be. I didn't like that she wanted you to be crazy like here but she did make me feel assured, and sometimes you'd echo her praises. I really miss those praises. ------------------------------------------------------ There's more to say above but I can't right now, i'm hurting so I will just add this last one in. York, yes York. I feel that I've handled her quite well. The crazy shrew. It started out with us talking, and we clicked, she felt that she could be open with me about her family problems, and I could relate. For the first time in 10 years, 17 year old me had found someone I could talk about with my family problems. It was liberating, being able to bounce things off her, and her relating back to me, our responses verbatim. We tried dating but that didn't work out, no not because she's crazy or anything but because I couldn't open the rest of myself to her, I was so caught up in sharing one facet of myself, it was the only part of myself I could share. As the years went on I tried to excise her from my circles, but it was hard, we still clicked and I still needed someone to talk to about these problem, but I trotted on. I'm sure you knew that she was always trying to pull me away from you to revisit us, and I was never at nipping that at the bud. There was the incident of bawling at a stay over at kierons, the entire disaster which was the batam holiday; a holiday which she single handedly put together so she could get me in a room alone to talk about her unresolved feelings. I'd always be able to say no to her, but there was once I was tempted. I'm sure you know, remember when I had lost feelings? Remember the week where we almost broke up because I didn't know what I felt anymore? I was lured by exploring unfinished paths, or exploring the world alone, I was afraid that I hadn't done enough. I was afraid to commit. I'm sure you do, that's where you gave me the talk, you told me that love was a choice. Some days would be easier and some days would be harder and but the end of the day you'd be the one to choose whether we continued together, you decide to work on the issues we would face. This opened an entirely new angle to love for me, something that's I can only describe as accountability or responsibility, that what happens is ultimately down to us, and i'm glad that resonated with me because at the end of the day, I chose you and our relationship blossomed. So the next milestone in this part of our story was what happened at Christmas. Everything as usual, my classmates come over and you wanted to be here for reasons I'd let you tell me. But something happened that day and I think I should be honest about it now. So everything was going smoothly, it was getting late so we moved to the basement, Mayank hosted a game and me and York got paired. Mariann came along and started talking to us. I thought she wanted to catch up, but she started asking personal questions about our relationship, points that she probably knew we were in contention about ( our sex life, our plan for kids, our plan for raising kids, how we were going to handle religion, how we would deal with family) and like she dig and claw into every crack she could find. Looking back now I know she was priming me. For what came next. So next up York goes on about how William almost didn't come and how they were fighting, because she had a sex dream about me. (Lmao bitch I haven't seen you in a year the fuck you on about) and ask if I thought about her, I told her sometimes I would but we were seeing people now and we owed it to each other and both you and William to see things through. She countered back with this. She said yea I was right, but she'd like to be done with these thoughts, she asked how she could talk to me without you knowing, I asked why, and then it came. She wanted to meet me for one night, to end everything, a night of "crazy sex " and we'd say goodbye. In that moment I was thrown off, like what the fuck but I wanted to find you. Not because I needed to hold you to find the strength to say no, but because I felt nothing in that moment, that I was so sure in my commitment to you, it was a happy moment for me, and a breakthrough, but it was only fleeting cause you'd already left, you didn't like me sitting with her so you left without saying goodbye. I wrestled with telling you about that happened that night, I struggled with it for a week. I couldn't tell anyone because I only have you. Luck would have it that me and Robin would run into daphne, and I managed to pour everything out to her. She told me not to tell you, a decision she would turnover. She said no good could come from it. I took her advice, not solely because it was sound but because it was easy. Now i'm not trying to say i'm a hero for the choices I made, im just trying to give context to why the " love is a choice " thing means so much to me, and maybe you'd understand how much it hurts that you don't think so. I also want to be able to tell you anything, I want us to be honest with each other, so that we can work through things together. I want to be able to share everything with you. But we'll see how that goes.