#into a label especially when all five of you are from entirety different countries

[tongues--and--teeth]

Happy Pride to these three specifically

[lubdubsworld]

GIFT .

Genre : Brother-in-law Jungkook x OC!

Warnings : Yandere Jungkook! Non Consent. Manipulative behaviour. Explicit Sexual Content, Violence, Murder

Author's Note : I love reading Yandere fics so I just wanted to write one!! Its very different from what I usually write... So proceed with caution.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time I met Jungkook , it was five years into my relationship with Namjoon.

Namjoon had told me all about his baby brother, a final year student in SNU. Jungkook majored in Business , training to take over the company business . Namjoon often mentioned that it was Jungkook's offer to switch majors that had helped him pursue his own dream of being a music producer.

So when he told me that Jungkook was on a break from university and his parents were looking forward to having a proper family dinner with all of us, I was excited to meet the boy , I'd heard so much about. Namjoon was endlessly fond of his little brother and I wanted him to like me just as much.

Namjoon and I had met seven years earlier in the University Library and had become fast friends. We were both quiet, intellectually driven individuals, preferring to spend our time in the library as opposed to partying with our friends. And yet, in a twist , against our family’s wishes, we had chosen not to pursue an academically driven career either. I’d always felt out of place in my own friend group, most of my friend from Journalism being extroverted and fun loving. Namjoon for his part had only two very close friends, Yoongi and Hoseok and preferred spending time by himself as well.

So it was only natural that we fell in with each other with ease. His beautiful dimpled smile tugged on my gut, even as his gentle nature and gorgeous mind made my heart pound. I fell in love with him, between the late night laughter in the library and the soft secrets whispered against my skin, in the privacy of his bed.

“Nervous?” His voice drew me to the present, fingers inking with mine as he lightly knocked his shoulders against mine, staring down at me with a dimpled smile. I shook my head quickly, squeezing his hand gently.

“Of course not. I just want him to like me.” I whispered and Namjoon chuckled.

“Jungkookie isn’t very expressive so don’t worry if he isn’t very vocal in his affections. He’s very shy with new people but I’m sure, he’ll love you.” Namjoon reached out and lightly, brushed the hair off my face before leaning down and giving me a quick kiss.

I gripped his waist, pressing in closer, lips parting instinctively  , eager to chase the taste of him. He groaned and gripped my elbow, pulling me around to press up against the tall , lean strength of his body and this was it, this endless need to touch him even after seven whole years of being together. I moaned when he bit down on my lips, my back arching a bit to press into him.

“Hyung?”

We parted, surprised and I felt my face flame, lips slicked wet and no doubt red from where Joon’s teeth had sunk in.

What a first impression.

“Ahh… Jungkook-ah… You came out?” Namjoon looked a little flustered, dimples peeking out in an abashed smile as he laughed embarrassedly I found myself smiling at Jungkook, who looked nothing like I’d imagined.

I’d been expecting someone cute and friendly.

Jungkook was dressed in all black, tall and intimidating. He was also almost surreally beautiful, gaze piercing and steady as he stared at me. I felt an instinctive urge to hide, not missing the way his gaze trailed up and down my body, lips parting gently to reveal a pair of bunny teeth that looked jarringly adorable on a face that was , quite simply put, arrestingly gorgeous.  

He hummed, still standing in the doorway, eyes trained on me and I swallowed when he smiled , wide and open. His tongue darted out, lightly licking his lower lip .

“Hi, Hana.” He said softly and I startled.

“Hana? I’m sure you mean noona…..” I laughed nervously and even Namjoon looked surprised and Jungkook merely smiled, shrugging.

“You don’t feel like a noona.” He said casually.

I merely stared at him, not sure what he meant. Namjoon laughed a little as well, moving over to lightly hug his brother.

“Yah! You’ve just met her. Isn’t it too soon to start being a brat?” He ruffled his hair playfully before turning to me.

“Come on, Hana. Come say hi to my parents.” Namjoon walked in and I rushed to follow him, pausing when I reached the doorway. I smiled at Jungkook, holding a hand out slowly.

“I’ve heard so much about you Jungkook, I hope we can be friends…” I said sincerely and he stared at my hand, not taking it. Instead he gave me another soft smile. Before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of my hand, making me jump .

“You don’t feel like a friend either.” He said with a shrug , before moving away, leaving me stunned on the doorway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years later :

“Seven months? Namjoon we’re getting married in seven months! How am I supposed to plan a whole wedding , with you away from the country?” I asked desperately, watching as Namjoon sat with his head in his hands. He looked stricken, regretful and pained and I felt terrible for being unreasonable but it was impossible not to feel hurt.

“I know..  I know hana, I’m so fucking sorry. But this is such a huge opportunity and its not just me : Hoseok and Yoongi depend on me. I can’t screw things up for them too.” He whispered and I exhaled.

Namjoon had been offered a chance to produce for a very high end recording label based out of the US and they wanted him to stay there for a minimum of seven months. The offer had been a complete surprise, out of the blue and the timing couldn’t have been worse. I’d been accepted into an internship at a popular magazine and it would be impossible for me to go with him. And I was so desperate to go.

We’d never been apart for more than a few days, in the entirety of our relationship and the thought of not seeing him for months made me want to throw up.

“I’ve spoken to Jungkook. He’ll help you with all the things that have to be done. And I swear that I’ll be back at least a month before the date, alright? No matter what happens.” Namjoon said firmly. I swallowed, nodding nervously.

It was true that I didn’t like the idea of being away from Namjoon. But the thought of keeping him away from a dream that he had worked so hard for, was almost unfathomable.

Besides, Jungkook was reliable and sweet. The perfect gentleman. Especially now that he’d taken over as his father’s Executive Assistant, Jungkook was incredibly good at organizing and planning things out.

With his help, I could plan out our wedding to perfection.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next five months were spent in a haze of appointments and fittings and bookings. Jungkook had arranged for a shift in my internship hours, so he and I could spend a solid four hours every day, visiting different vendors, picking out the perfect floral arrangements, napkins, brocade and what not. And for once, I found myself completely enthralled by the idea of spending money of frivolously pretty things. Whether it was the florists or the patisserie, the dress fitting or the invitations, I felt my excitement bubbling over , amazed because marrying into Namjoon’s family meant an unlimited budget and for once, I didn’t mind being extravagant.

What was more, I didn’t miss Namjoon nearly as much as I thought I would. Because deep down , I knew that he wouldn’t have enjoyed this all that much. And I would have felt guilty , dragging him everywhere.

And Jungkook was the one to thank for all of it. He picked me up everyday for an early breakfast , followed by hours of combing the streets for ideas and appointments. He was funny and enthusiastic, eager to help me in every way and I was so grateful that I couldn’t thank him enough.

“I owe you so much, Kookie. You’ve been a life saver.” I groaned, collapsing on the couch and dropping my head back against the backrest. Jungkook chuckled, sitting down on one of the Turkish ottomans and lightly grabbing my ankle, pulling my foot onto his lap. I flushed a little, still not used to how touchy he was.

Jungkook liked wrapping his arms around my waist when we were out and about, fingers fluttering up my sides or brushing hair off my face with easy familiarity. I didn’t mind. He reminded me of my little brother back in Ilsan.

Most of the people we met assumed he was the groom and Jungkook told me it would be better to keep up the ruse because wedding planners were more comfortable when couples came together and I’d agreed, albeit a little reluctantly. I missed Namjoon and I wondered if he would mind. But when I mentioned it in passing to him during one of our daily video calls, he’d merely laughed it off.

“You’re so tense, Hana. You should relax. Everything is going to be okay.” Jungkook said softly, soft fingers digging into the curve of heel before brushing the arch of my foot. I smiled when he tugged my foot close, placing it down on the firmness of his thigh.

I gazed down at him, feeling uncomfortably nervous. This whole thing seemed oddly intimate somehow and I felt the first tendrils of guilt begin to curl around my gut. I swallowed, hating myself for tainting something that was no doubt innocent. I ought to be grateful that my future brother in law was this kind to me.

“I know. Thank you. I just miss him sometimes.” I said softly. The fingers stilled on my foot.

“Only sometimes?” He teased, eyes narrowed and tone just a little colder and I hesitated.

“I don’t miss him when you keep me company. You help me forget that I’m doing all of this by myself.” I said honestly. Jungkook inhaled sharply, his gaze flicking to mine, holding mine with an intensity that made me balk a little.

“You mean, that?” He asked quietly and I laughed at how serious he looked.

“Of course I do.  I was so sure this whole thing would be me being miserably lonely but you’ve kept me laughing and happy. I’m going to ask Namjoon to buy you something expensive and amazing when he comes back.”

“He already has something amazing. It’s the only thing I really want.” Jungkook said quietly, fingers stroking up, gently massaging my foot all the way up my calf. I groaned at how good it felt.

“Really what is it?” I asked curious.

Jungkook squeezed my knee before carefully placing my foot down , reaching for the other one.

“You’ll know soon, Hana.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to his word, Namjoon called me exactly a month before our wedding date.

“Guess who’s leaving the God forsaken place this weekend?”

I felt warmth flood my insides, heart racing with pure joy, tears brimming over because I’d honestly resigned myself to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to make it back on time.

“Monday i, I’ll be there. Can’t wait to kiss you, my love.” He whispered and I nodded, laughing.

Finally, Everything would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Namjoon’s flight was due to arrive late night ,somewhere between twelve and one in the morning. I’d taken a nap in the afternoon, so I could be up to welcome him back. Jungkook arrived at around seven with Takeout and flowers.

He didn’t ring the doorbell, letting himself in with the spare key I’d given him for emergencies. I found myself scrambling for my robe because I’d taken a nice long shower and slipped on a silk negligee, short and ending just over my knees . I could feel his eyes on me as I hastily tied the sash together, flustered. The robe wasn’t long either and I felt absolutely exposed, even worse than when he’d stepped into the dressing room during my fitting, offering to help me with the zipper.

“ Jungkook, what are you doing here?” I asked nervously and he shrugged, eyes still trailing over my legs, the skin bare. I felt his gaze like a caress and some instinct told me I was in danger. I shook my head to clear it. How ridiculous.

This was Jungkook. Sweet, wonderful Jungkookie. My best friend these past few months. There was no one else I could be safer with.

“I knew you’d be excited, what with hyung coming back and all. So, I thought I’d drop by and at least make sure you’re well fed.” He grinned, holding the tae out up. I smiled and nodded, moving to get plates and glasses from the kitchen.

I heard Jungkook moving around in the living room and when I went back in , I found that he had two glasses of wine ready on the table, an expensive bottle of merlot opened nearby. I smiled a bit, shaking my head.

“What are we celebrating?” I asked curiously and he shrugged.

“Namjoon hyung is coming back right? It means I’ll be getting my amazing gift tonight.” He said softly, picking his glass up and taking a sip and I rolled my eyes.

“You’re such a child. You can’t wait for a day to get your gift?”

Jungkook hummed. He looked ethereal in the dim golden light of the apartment. Like something out of a fairytale. All dark ebony hair and porcelain skin. I wondered, again….why he never dated. He was easily one of the most beautiful humans I’d ever seen in my life. And that voice.

The voice of an angel.

“I’ve been waiting for years, Hana. I’m sick and tired of waiting.” He said softly, voice low and eyes somehow dark and I tried to hold my smile.

“Well, I hope you enjoy it.” I grinned and he smiled, all teeth.

“Oh, I intend to. Thoroughly.”

I took my own glass and took a deep sip , before holding it against his.

“To no longer waiting and finally getting what we want.” I said cheerfully, thinking of the long months without Namjoon and the few hours till he would be back in my arms. Jungkook chuckled and clinked his glass against mine.

“To you, Hana.” He said simply and I blushed, surprised and flattered.

We ate the take out but just a few bites in, I felt my eyes getting heavy which was so unfair. It was barely eight. And I’d slept in the afternoon. What was wrong with me? I was supposed to be up till Namjoon came home.

“You alright, love?” Jungkook asked sweetly , getting out of his chair and making his way over when I almost knocked the glass of water over, fingers trembling. I pouted, even as his fingers curled over my shoulders, gripping lightly.

“Why am I so drowsy?” I whined in desperation and he leaned down, lightly resting his chin on my shoulder.

“You need to rest, hana. Come on, let’s get you to bed…. “

Eyes heavy and limbs turning to jelly, I could barely blink as he reached down and scooped me into his arms , carrying me into the bedroom. I felt his fingers tug on the sash of my robe, a protest building up at the action but he shushed me gently.

“I’m just helping you out of this, Hana. Rest now… Namjoon hyung will be here soon and we have a long night ahead of us, you and I.”

I could feel my mind churn at that, confusion warring with apprehension because why was Jungkook inserting himself in tonight? What did he have to do with Namjoon and I ?

Sleep beckoned and I found myself slipping into the darkness before I could fully ponder on his words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up sweaty and damp , body overheated and my head foggy. I made to move and felt my heart pound when I realized my hands were tied up to the headboard. I blinked, only to be met with darkness because there was something tied around my eye as well.

“Jungkook?!” I called out panicking and there was a low chuckle.

And then a very familiar scent.

Namjoon.

I sagged in relief.

“Joon…it’s you….” I breathed out . “ Come on, do we really have to do this right away? I wanna see you…” I whispered desperately.

Fingers brushed over my ankle and I jumped.

“Namjoon?” I whispered . The bed dipped next to me, and I felt the brush of his shirt against my bare arm. It was soft and silky , familiar because I’d bought it for him for his birthday and he’d sent me a pic of him wearing it, from the airport today.

“Okay… I’ll play.” I laughed softly. “ Just untie me… I wanna touch you..”

“Sshhh…..” A finger pressed against my lip and I startled. Throat dry, I gulped.

But I didn’t say anything, biting my lips nervously as I felt him climb over me, one knee on either side of mine, fingers curling on my thighs, lips pressing against my cheek. I sighed, relishing the soft press of his lips, up and down my neck, the damp wetness of his tongue as he licked the skin right after, teeth nipping gently and then with more force.

I trembled as soft fingers tugged on my negligee tugging the fabric up and away from my body, raising it up till it pooled near my chest. I felt the tug on my panties, yanking the fabric off and then the weight of him went away, a breathy exhale that sounded both calm and somehow desperate, his body moving down to lightly hold my knees, parting my legs.

I bent my knees, spreading my thighs the way he clearly wanted me to, hearing him groan in return. He used his thumbs to gently part the damp folds of my centre and I felt my entire body shudder at the press of his tongues against the most intimate parts of me.

Choking, I could only lay there and take it, his tongue licking the slick folds, over and over again with an almost curious insistence, like he was tasting me for the first time and I could feel his body trembling on the bed as he did. I felt his teeth tug on the hardened nub, bruising hard and yet somehow almost playful and cheeky and I found myself squirming in pleasure, wetness seeping out of me .

The tip of his finger found my slit, running up and done the length of it in a slow, gentle caress, gathering the moisture there and I trembled when he reached my clit, gently rubbing circles on the little bundle before moving back down to trace my entrance. I was so wet, getting wetter by the second and I’d never wanted to be fucked so bad.

“Please…..baby… I want you ….in me…” I choked out and he chuckled, a little mischievous and unlike him.

The finger dipped in, shallow and barely in and I whimpered in desperation.

“More.. Please…. I want more.. Want you… Its been so long…”

I felt him move back at that and then he was there, right between my legs. I felt the clink of metal as he unbuckled himself, the sound of his zipper and the rustle of fabric as he pushed his trousers off. I could feel the hard muscles of his thigh against the back of mine as he scooted closer, felt the brush of his hard length against my center, the head dipping in just lightly.

He pushed forward, driving in with so much force that my entire body shuddered in shock. And in just that second, I knew, with dawning horror…….

This was not Namjoon.

I screamed, so loud my own ears rang and  a palm pressed down into my mouth, forceful and unrelenting. And terrifyingly unfamiliar.

“Hana…” Jungkook’s voice near my ear made me choke on my tears, my mind splintering in shock and betrayal, body going rigid in terror as he pulled out , only to slide back in.

“Knew it would be worth it, keeping myself pure for you….” He crooned against my skin and I whimpered, wetness spilling over my eyelashes as I tried to squirm away, my mind body and soul only screaming for the man I loved.

“Don’t worry about anything ….Hyung’s in a better place now. “ Jungkook chuckled deeply and I felt my skin go ice cold at the implication. He moved his hand away and I coughed, choking.

“Jungkook….”

The blind fold came off and he kept pumping into me, hips moving erratically, no rhythm or grace and it was obvious he’d never done this before, obvious in the way he looked : blissed out and feral, eyes unfocused as he stared down at me. I felt him tremble and shake, before going still . I felt warm wetness flood my insides and bile rose, nausea making breathing difficult. He stayed on me and inside me, his body so large and immovable, heavy and suffocating over my own.

“what are you doing Jungkookie?” I sobbed out in disbelief and he glared at me.

“What does it fucking look like I’m doing? I’m taking what I fucking deserve….” He snarled. “ Two fucking years…. He doesn’t deserve you. Spends all his days and nights holed up in that studio of his with his friends….leaves you to fend for yourself. You deserve to be waited on, hand and foot… you deserve the world, hana…and he wouldn’t let you experience any of it. Fucking bastard….

“No… No.. God …no..” I choked out. It was the shirt.

He was wearing Namjoon’s shirt. And his cologne. The shirt I knew my boyfriend had been wearing today. How did he get it??

Jungkook brushed his fingers on my cheeks .

“What’s wrong baby? Are you worried about him? Wondering where he is…” He chuckled. “ I told you..he’s in a better place right now..”

“No… you’re lying..you wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t I? You know me that well , hana?” He teased.

No. No I didn’t I didn’t know him at all.

“How about this? If you marry me…. If you let me have this dream wedding with my dream girl…. “ He smirked,” If you let me love you the way you deserve , maybe I’ll take you to visit him…someday. ”

I closed my eyes.

I couldn’t process what I’d just heard… I didn’t know… if he was bluffing. What if he had actually killed-

I couldn’t believe that. I couldn’t. It would break me.

“Okay… Just…please don’t hurt him…” I whispered.

Jungkook smiled.

“Just relax Hana. Everything’s going to be okay.”

AUTHORS NOTE : THIS IS LITERALLY MY FIRST TIME WRITING SOMETHING LIKE THIS PURELY OUT OF IDLE CURIOSITY

~~~~~~~~~~~

[prettywordsyouleft]

Overheard

Summary: Even though you loved Taekwoon, being the partner of a celebrity always came with hearing what others thought of you.

Pairing: Jung Taekwoon (Leo) x reader

Genre: married idol au / angsty fluff? Tbh I don’t know what to label this one

Warnings: feelings of insignificance

A/N: requested by anon. I really loved that k-drama but gosh it’s been forever since I watched it. I think I remember the scene you mean though. Either way your request spurred me in this direction. Sorry it’s not a boyfriend story but I’m sure this detail change shouldn’t be too much of an issue!

Word count: 2599

You were used to the underhanded comments. You had heard them for as long as you had been dating Taekwoon. At first, they hadn’t bothered you as you had anticipated the backlash of disgruntled fans. But you loved Taekwoon more than anything else in this world. You were genuine, heck you had risked your job as VIXX’s senior coordinator just for your love. In your eyes, putting everything on the line for Taekwoon had meant something major to you.

To others though, your actions were seen as the problem.

“How convenient, the star who fell in love with the staff.”

“She’s only after her quick grab on fame herself. Did you see her? She’s not pretty at all, so she couldn’t get into the limelight in any other way.”

“She had to have seduced him. There’s nothing special about her. Wow, what does oppa see in her? She’s just old and frumpy.”

It hadn’t been your idea to go public with your relationship. It had remained a secret for an entire year because of the implications dating you had for him. Taekwoon hated hiding how much he loved you, yet you knew how much more he had to lose than you did. Your career was a huge part of you, and you had worked years to get up to this point. Even if you were an essential key to the smooth running of group and individual activities, you knew your role could ultimately be replaced and you could work elsewhere if needed. Yet his singing career could be shattered forever if the public took your relationship negatively. And because of this, you had broken up with him several times, not wanting to be the cause of ending his hopes and dreams just because you held feelings for him.

Those intense feelings brought you back to his side every time. It was the way he would look at you as if you were the only one he saw in this world that helped you through when the relationship suddenly was released by Dispatch, and his endless reassurances that you would both be okay was how you overcame the backlash. Most fans accepted Taekwoon’s happiness with you at his side, and the comments lessened.

But they never quite stopped.

Now, five years on, married and with children, you had hoped that your place at Taekwoon’s side would be measured up by the true definition of love and balance. You had done more than enough for the entertainment industry and had even gained endorsements yourself when you were newlyweds and again when you were pregnant with your first child. It had enabled you to use your position to voice things that mattered to you, and to other women alike. You had become an ambassador of women’s rights and supported many pregnancy and motherhood led initiatives.

Instead of seeing it as receiving fame by being Taekwoon’s wife, you had continued to use your strengths as a person to be effective and find ways to help others.

Doing so meant others had something to talk about you, however.

“Does she think she’s the newest Mother Theresa? She’s only the wife of a singer, not someone powerful in this nation.”

“I’m so sick of seeing her face branded for helping women, you can see right through her scheme it’s to keep her husband’s career relevant. His fans are too old and have families of their own to support now instead of paying his bills. Gosh, they need to go be quiet somewhere in the country.”

“Have you seen her body? After having her two kids she’s really let herself go.”

“Was there much there to let go of beforehand?!”

The hardest thing was overhearing these comments from the people who you worked alongside on campaigns. Yet you didn’t falter, not once. You weren’t doing the things you had done so to please these people. You didn’t have anything to prove either.

“Why do you let them talk about you like that?” Jaehwan’s wife, Tori asked and you glanced at your friend, smiling weakly. “They’re talking absolute rubbish about you, yet again! Weren’t they just praising your efforts on the new scheme to help victims of sexual abuse?”

“Let them be, they clearly aren’t happy with their own lives and need something to gossip about. They’re not hurting anyone.”

“Except you,” she mentioned, concern etched within her gaze. “Y/N, you really need to-”

“I’m fine, I promise. I’ve had this for the entirety of my relationship with Taekwoon, it’s nothing new.”

“It’s shouldn’t be something you’re fine with,” Tori said sadly, shaking her head and glaring over at the women in their fancy dresses discussing other guests at the event. “Taekwoon sure wouldn’t like to hear about this.”

“And he won’t,” you replied firmly.

It had been the one thing you had carried silently within. You weren’t naïve; of course Taekwoon had his fair idea of what the public had said in the past. But things were different now. The rumours and negative comments weren’t penned in online forums but by the people you collaborated with. It was harder for him, especially when he still had a somewhat busy career, to find out about such talk.

And you wanted it to remain that way.

“Get dressed, we’re going out,” he proclaimed and you glanced up at your husband from your laptop. On one side of you was your daughter napping and your son was sprawled out on the floor watching television. On the other side was a stack of proposals you had to get through this weekend to decide on the focus for next month at work.

You laughed softly. “You’ve just come home from the tour in Japan, aren’t you tired? Where are we meant to be going?”

“To my parents’ house,” he announced and your son diverted his gaze from his show immediately.

“To Grandma and Grandpa’s?!”

“That’s right,” Taekwoon confirmed and even your daughter stirred enough to catch on to her brother’s excitement. You watched your husband curiously. He grinned. “We can drop the kids off for the night.”

“Are we really getting to stay over?” your son asked once more as your daughter squealed in delight.

“Of course! They’re already planning the best sleepover!”

“Really?!” your daughter was up off the sofa you and she were upon and went running down the hallway to get her favourite toys together.

You sighed. “What have you planned?”

“I want to take my beautiful wife out.”

“Where’s she right now? I only see me here,” you teased, looking down at your sweats and reaching to touch your messy bun on your head.

Taekwoon shifted over to you and kissed you on the forehead. “She’s right here. Come on, you’ve been working non-stop and with me gone you had to look after the kids for the whole week. Let me spoil you. I’ll drop them off and you focus on getting ready.”

“How ready do I need to be? Date in a movie theatre ready or dinner at an expensive restaurant ready?”

He grinned. “You and your need to know everything. Just wear something that can do both. I’m not telling you anything!”

“Why did I marry you?” you asked as you closed your laptop, smiling to yourself all the same. “Not knowing things is my weakness!”

“I know and I’m going to use it well to make you remember exactly why you said I do all those years ago!” he called after you as you headed down the hallway, kissing both kids on their heads as you passed on by.

You couldn’t deny the excitement that built within at the idea of having a night with just Taekwoon. Sure, you often collapsed on the sofa together most nights but there wasn’t much said in those moments. You were both satisfied with your efforts throughout the day and glad that the kids were fed, bathed and tucked away in their beds. Tonight, you’d get the chance to really spend time with Taekwoon. To talk, laugh and hopefully do something other than fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. The longer you thought about it as you got dressed in your favourite black dress that seemed to tick any and every box of date night standards, you realised how much you missed spending more time together. Having your children was something you’d never regret, yet sometimes you forgot what it was like before you had them. How you didn’t have to fight for his attention with two excitable little humans talking a million miles a second about their days to their attentive father. Even though you loved that scene too, tonight would be all about just you and him.

A small giggle left you and you continued to get ready, waiting for Taekwoon to return for you. And when he did, his eyes soaked you in hungrily, his lips soon finding yours. “Maybe we should stay inside instead. I don’t know if I want to take you away from here now.”

“I didn’t just spend all that time fighting with my eyeliner to have you keep me here. We’re going out!” you exclaimed and Taekwoon chuckled, kissing you again briefly before he took your hand and led you out to the car.  After twenty minutes, you looked at your husband determinedly. “Where are we going?”

“I told you I wasn’t going to give you any hints.”

“What if I guess where then will you answer?” you compromised and Taekwoon laughed.

“You’re distracting me from driving. Stop being so adorable, baby.” You bit your lip and sat back in your chair, gloating with the warmth of his affectionate sentence. And before you could try again to guess the destination, Taekwoon drove the car into an underground parking lot. You read the names of the companies that used this facility and gasped, realising where he was taking you.

“You’ve brought me to see Jaehwan’s new musical?!” you enquired and Taekwoon nodded.

“And then dinner after, how does that sound?”

“Perfect!”

The show had been magnificent and you were now seated in a neighbouring restaurant waiting for your meal to arrive when you noticed a group of ladies being escorted to a nearby table. You diverted your gaze to your glass of water and sighed. Your reaction wasn’t lost on Taekwoon. “Do you know them? Oh, isn’t that Kim Soobin, one of the women you work with?”

“Yeah, they must have been at the show as well.”

“Do you want to leave?” he asked, his expression puzzled by your now quiet demeanour. You shot him a strained smile as you shook your head. “But you look uncomfortable.”

“I want to share a meal with you,” you insisted, reaching over the table for his hand. You held it gently and smiled more genuinely this time. “Let’s stay.”

“Y/N?” a voice called out and you blinked rapidly as you glanced up. Soobin smiled graciously. “Oh, it is you. Hello, Taekwoon, it’s been a while since I last saw you!”

“Hello, are you well?”

“Better now that I’ve seen you both! Did you watch the musical as well? Fabulous, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was very charming,” you mentioned and then got to your feet. “Would you excuse me, I just need to use the bathroom.”

“Of course, darling, I’ll talk with you next week at the office!” Soobin called after you as you moved off to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirrors and staring at your wide-eyed expression. Why were you anxious about running into Soobin? It wasn’t as if you had anything to feel inferior about around the woman. She was the wife of a politician and chose to work in a few various committees to simply keep her nose in among the gossip. Was that why you were frazzled by her appearance? Or had you wanted time tonight for just you and Taekwoon that having anything or anyone from your usual environment appear had diminished your joyous mood? You weren’t sure but you focused on composing yourself, smiling at your reflection before you stepped back out and went back to your table.

It was empty.

Following a familiar voice, you gasped when you found Taekwoon towering over the five ladies seated at their table. “Did you think purposely raising your voices as you gossip about my wife loud enough that I could hear would make me feel frustrated enough to come and rage at you to stop?”

“Oh Taekwoon, we weren-”

Taekwoon merely stopped to take a breath before cutting Soobin off. “You were basically asking for me to step over here. And I have, though not to do what you’re hoping for. Keep talking. Keep saying vicious things and making yourselves feel good about who you are whilst you spout nonsense. Everyone around you is well aware of how lonely you all are because you have busy husbands. Those husbands you find out what they’re feeling and doing by reading the news or social media posts they make instead of ringing home to tell you instead. Keep talking yourselves up to be amazing mothers and wives whilst under appreciating the hard work of others despite having in-house staff that keep your homes running so you can enjoy outings like this instead of tucking your children into bed and getting to know what they dream of. I implore you to continue. Because at the end of the day your lives are the sad ones, not my wife’s. I don’t care what you say about her, at all. Do continue. Your words mean nothing when I know how vastly different your world is from ours.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, your meals are here. Enjoy,” Taekwoon mentioned, bowing slightly and returning to your table. He glanced up at you standing where you had stopped to listen on and smiled. “Ah there you are, our dinner is ready!”

You sat down at the table and smiled weakly. “You should have ignored them.”

“Is that what you do?” he asked softly as he cut into his steak with more force than needed. You didn’t answer right away and Taekwoon sighed. “You face so much more than I realised. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m not but I won’t leave until we’re done eating. They don’t deserve the satisfaction of ruining someone else’s night.”

You grinned up at your husband. “Who said our night is ruined? You were right with what you said; our world is different, so let’s enjoy it whilst the night is still young, hm?”

“I love you, Y/N. I’m so glad you choose to be at my side, even if others don’t appreciate you, I do.”

“Woon-ah,” you called him affectionately, still smiling. “The people who matter do appreciate me. Sure, I’ll have to deal with their behaviour over the next week from you standing up for me like that but I’d happily ignore all their negativity if it means waking up next to you every day. I love you too.”

“Let’s not stay for dessert,” he announced pettily, and you giggled at seeing how red his neck was. “I think we can find something better elsewhere.”

“You told me to dress for anything. Ice-cream in the car whilst taking a late night drive sounds good to me, what do you think?”

“Anywhere is perfect if you’re there too.”

“Where else would I be? My husband is actually at my side and I don’t have to use social media to track him down either.”

Taekwoon blushed. “You heard it all huh?”

“Every word. It was quite the performance.”

_________________

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[theloversofmrsunshine]

The Better Ending, pt 10

This chapter is for those we miss, cherish, and love with all of our hearts. For those that left us too soon. For those who took with them a piece of us all.

If tears could build a stairway

And memories a lane;

I’d walk right up to heaven,

And bring you home again. 

-Author Unknown

Stairway to Heaven

It’s a fine day in Heaven, with the entirety of their population out and roaming in gay groups. The women huddle about like flocks, wearing beautiful silken dresses. The men strut mostly in pairs, discussing some matter or another in low voices. Huijin had found the entire thing ridiculous. Though abundant, the many enjoyments of Heaven had worn thin on her nerves within the first few years. An eternity here for her service to her family and her country feels rather more like torture. Her only enjoyments are the multitude of beautiful dogs in this place, but even their charms have limits for a woman like Huijin.

Then one day, one of the faeries had taken pity on her and shown her a very strange, yet magical mirror. Placed deep in the heart of The Emperor’s rose garden, it was not an easy place to access. Only thanks to her status as a hero was she even able to set foot in this place. This mirror, if awakened by the proper incantation and emotion, could become a window through which she could observe those she left behind. Huijin had almost no family, but there was one face she dearly missed. Ever since Aeshin was about five years of age, Huijin had taken to watching over her daughter. Gasping in delight whenever Aeshin discovered something new, cringing in horror when Aeshin was ever in danger. Laughing when her daughter suddenly made a face of angry surprise which reminded her so much of her husband. Her daughter was her only source of amusement and comfort in this sterile, sad Heaven she did not feel she belonged in.

“Now, wife, you can’t stay here all the time,” comes a voice, as Sangwan walks through the gateway that leads into the gardens. Her husband is stunning in his cream suit, his hair swept neatly back. In such a traditional setting, his more modern clothes set him jarringly apart. But Sangwan had never been interested in playing by anyone’s rules. Even as he scolds her, he’s smiling, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

“Says who?” she challenges, even as she holds his hand and turns her head to kiss his chin. He nuzzles her shamelessly, smiling, as he looks into the face of his now grown daughter.

“Has it really been seventeen years?” he asks, watching his daughter as she reads and faithfully copies down the words of Confucius. It brings back memories, as his father used to punish him in a similar manner when he had been fifteen and wild.

Huijin nods, smiling widely and proudly at her daughter. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Then her mouth turns down and she glowers. “She’s been working on Confucius for four days now. Must father-in-law really be so harsh?”

Sangwan hums in amusement, wondering if perhaps the old man had been growing soft. “He used to punish me with two authors at a time. I once spent ten days copying the texts my father mandated. My handwriting was practically squiggles by the end. Father had to bite his cheeks to keep from laughing.”

His wife doesn’t seem to find the same humor in the situation as he did. Her daughter is too precious to spend such prolonged periods of time on the classics merely because she wanted to stay informed in the modern happenings of the world. Her father-in-law is going overboard. She wonders if she could request special permission to haunt his dreams or something. He is going to get an earful from her!

“Do stay calm, dearest,” Sangwan persuades, helping his wife to her feet. “Let’s go have a meal, shall we?” The couple walks back to the merry streets of the Jade Kingdom, arguing all the way.

Joseph smiles as he walks about, enjoying his time in this place greatly. There is a mix of so many people, all of them friendly. They shout in greeting as they pass, walking or astride gorgeous mounts. Dogs abound, wagging their tails and weaving among the crowds with practiced ease. Their coats are shiny and glossy; all of them looking healthy and well cared for, despite seeming strays. Though there are places to eat, none of them accept any currency, as far as Joseph can tell. He’s almost sure this is Heaven, though he’s not convinced he’s in the right one. From what the Bible told, Heaven would be very different from this.

He’s not sure how different, but he’s pretty sure he might have landed in the wrong one. The dogs check out, but the people around him don’t seem to be believers of his faith. Could there have been a mix-up? He woke up here, but perhaps he somehow got lost from where he should have been?

He strolls along the streets and finds a bar. Though most religious men of his faith don’t drink alcohol, the people of Joseon had enlightened him to the wonders of alcohol, if consumed responsibly. Joseph doesn’t think that alcohol consumed in Heaven even counts. He takes a seat and clumsily asks for a drink. The lady taking orders nods amiably, recognizing the blond foreigner. Despite the fact that his Korean is still rather poor, the people seem to find him charming. He’s seen quite a few other foreigners around, but no Europeans or Americans in this place. Very few people here speak English, so Joseph gets by with the language skills he learned while stationed in Joseon.

“Hey, there, Father,” a lilting voice says from a neighboring table. “You ought not drink alone.”

Joseph looks up to find a handsome man dressed in Western clothing. His cream colored suit is stunning, accented by the blue handkerchief on his chest pocket, blue tie and the black oxford shoes. He is clearly of Asian descent, but he dresses like a European gentleman. The man stands, bringing his own cup and bottle of rice wine with him. He sets both on Joseph’s table, smiling widely.

“You look a little foreign for these parts, I presume you’re just visiting?” the man asks, filling Josephs cup with his own liquor once the restaurant lady brings both a new cup and bottle.

Joseph is rather used to how the people of Joseon tend to infringe on other people’s personal space. It’s been a while, but he doesn’t mind the behavior. It helps him feel welcomed. “Perhaps an introduction would be more in order? My name is Joseph. And you are?”

The man grins and holds out his right hand, clearly knowledgeable about foreigners and their ways. It’s not lost on Joseph that most of the people in this place are ignorant. It’s been dawning on him he’s basically surrounded by people long since dead. It would explain the disconnect; most of these people don’t even know America even exists. This young man, however, is obviously in the know. “My name’s Go Sangwan,” he says and they shake hands.

There is no true night or day in Heaven, but the eternal twilight of the place seems to vary between bright and gloomy. As the gloom grows and darkens, Joseph and Sangwan drink. They chat and munch on snacks, enjoying each other’s company. The drinks have warmed Joseph enough that he can finally answer Sangwan’s initial question with some semblance of honesty.

“I don’t quite know what I’m doing here,” he confesses, smiling. “Last I knew, I had a letter from the Emperor to deliver, then an explosion of pain… and nothing else.”

The man sitting before him clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Aye, you’ve been labeled a hero, then.” He laughs, slapping his thigh. “Here my wife and I thought we were the only ones in at least thirty years to end up here on heroism, but alas, it is what it is.”

Joseph, intrigued, leans forward. Glad to find a listener, Sangwan tells tales of his and his wife’s many dutiful sacrifices for the crown of Joseon. Their love for freedom and devotion to their country is what landed them here, after all. They still haven’t been given the possibility of rebirth, but that is out of their hands, really. Sangwan doesn’t worry too much, anyway. His wife clearly wants to wait this century out. She’d much rather keep an eye on their daughter than be reborn and forget Aeshin. Especially since their little apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. A rebel daughter is bad for their health, he tells Joseph. Joseph looks on thoughtfully, before finally chiming in.

“You must love your daughter very much,” he says softly, smiling. Sangwan stops for a moment, reading between the lines.

“I see you had a child, too,” he says, confused. “I thought men of the cloth weren’t allowed to have families.”

Joseph laughs, shaking his head. “My son was adopted. I found him… or perhaps, it is more accurate to say he found me. He was my greatest joy, though I could not give him all that I wished I could.”

Sangwan clears his throat, looking skyward. “That is popular among us who die young, I’m afraid. I wish I could have done so much more for my daughter, as well.”

They drink to their mutual feelings of paternal love, before a female voice interrupts them.

“Husband! You’ll never guess what has happened! This is incredible!” Huijin comes running across the street, heedless of the people jumping out of her path. She slams both hands on the table, smiling widely. “Our daughter and that Marine, oh, I do love them together! That Eugene is the perfect man, you must see him!”

She pauses for breath, and finally notices his companion. “Oh; my apologies. I hope I haven’t interrupted anything important.”

Joseph is staring at this somewhat wild, but beautiful apparition who seems to have come up from nowhere. Then, as his mind registers her words, he abruptly stands up. “I apologize, but did you say Eugene… as in Eugene Choi?”

Floundering, Huijin nods mutely, before putting both hands on her face. “Don’t tell me… you’re his adoptive father. The one who…” Her grimace of pain and understanding has Joseph realizing that this woman had truly spoken of his son. His son!

“My boy! You have seen him? How is he? Is he alright? Can I see him?” His flurry of questions come in both English and Korean, startling the couple. Huijin’s expressions grows smooth with clarity, and she gestures for him to come along. Sangwan follows after them, shouting his gratitude at the bar lady. As they walk, Huijin tells Joseph all that she has seen of his son. When Eugene and her daughter met, aiming weapons at each other. Their first dialogue, their second meeting, and so on. How they went from almost-enemies, to allies and now, to lovers. Joseph cries as he hears how his son shot himself in the arm for the sake of protecting his lady, spending the night in jail despite his injuries. He smiles at how clumsy Eugene is in his attempts to woo the lady. Huijin tells him of how her daughter had prayed for him to be lead to Heaven, despite their differing religions. Huijin offers a handkerchief for his tears, before gesturing toward the maze of roses that stand between them and the mirror.

“I cannot lead you,” Huijin explain, gesturing for him to go ahead. “If the Heavens permit, you will find it.” Sangwan joins his wife, smiling at his friend.

“Don’t worry and just follow your heart,” he advises. “We’ll see you at the mirror, Father.”

Joseph walks in, casting his gaze about this beautiful, but confusing rose garden. Everything looks exactly the same. He pauses for a moment, and sends a prayer to God. Opening his eyes, he walks swiftly and with determination. It doesn’t take long for him to get lost among the maze of beautiful roses. There are myriads of them, a beautiful collage of red and pink. Among them, he finds a white blossom, gorgeous in her solitude. Joseph walks toward it, gently touching its petals. She is fragrant and large, a lovely specimen. He commends it for its beauty, pauses, and follows the path she lies on. After a few meters, he finds another white blossom, then another… and another. As he follows their lead, the white roses behind him quietly and simply lose their petals and die.

Joseph walks for what feel like hours, panting and wondering if there is water in this garden. Just as he considers trying to find his way back, he sees a shimmer of light. Following the glow, he comes upon a gazebo, where Sangwan and Huijin await him. They smile and welcome him, offering a cup of cool water. Joseph gratefully accepts as the couple makes space for him on the bench facing the mirror and teach him the incantation.

As he whispers the words, thinking of his Eugene, his sunshine, his son… the mirror distorts and he can see his son sleeping quietly in his bed at the Glory Hotel. Seeing him, safe and all grown up, Joseph quietly cries. He had not seen him since he left him a boy that fateful day, lonely and waving on the pier, as Joseph set back to Joseon. They had only exchanged letters, and Joseph had seen the clumsy writing grow firmer, surer and more elegant over the years. Now, he sees the fruits of time, age and wisdom on his son. It breaks his heart and puts it back together again. He is, at last, whole.

For whatever Fate that brought him here, Joseph is grateful.

Hongpa stares about, finding her surroundings very disorienting. Last she remembers, she had been shot and had fallen into the water. This surreal, colorful place is starting to unsettle her. Perhaps… she is dead?

“Oh, young lady,” a voice hails her, and Hongpa turns. Before her stands a beautiful woman, dressed in silken finery. Somehow, this woman reminds her of someone, though she cannot place exactly who. “You look terribly lost. Do you need any help?”

There is a foreigner with the lady, calmly smoking a cigarette. Among the sea of Asian faces, the man is a stark contrast to those who surround her. The man smiles benignly, and Hongpa nods. She’s not one to accept help, but this place frightens her. She woke up here, with no memory of having come to this place. All she remembers is the Japanese men in her tavern, the terror, and how cold the water felt against her weeping wound. She shivers without knowing why, her hand straying to her shoulder.

“I see,” the woman says; a hint of sorrow in her voice. “You’ve died before your time.”

She puts her arm around Hongpa’s, gently steering the girl toward the warmth of a fire and perhaps a meal. “Tell me everything, I’m dying to know.”

Hongpa later came to learn she was in the presence of legendary heroes of the Righteous Army, singled out simply because of her acquaintance to their daughter. They welcome her, soothing her lingering memories of death and giving her peace. Heaven is an odd place, but Hongpa never minded dying. She had known her day would come, though she’d hoped to see Gunner Jang one last time before leaving him.

“I’ve heard you’re an excellent shot,” the woman, Huijin, says with mischief in her voice. Hongpa smirks, downing a shot of liquor. There is a challenge there, and Honga has never backed away from a challenge.

“The very best, my lady.”

Dongmae stumbles, grunting. His breathing is harsh, even as he slowly realizes his lungs actually work. He grasps desperately for a sword at his waist, missing, and glances wildly about. People around him don’t seem to mind him at all, parting around him like schools of fish avoiding a predator. The ground beneath him is unstable, his vision tunnels and he thinks frantically of the people he left behind. What of his friends, his followers, Lady Aeshin… Hina…

A voice sounds like the twinkle of a shaman’s bell. It calls to him, and he straightens in shock.

“Breathe, Gu Dongmae. Breathe,” her voice is a melody he wished he could forget. As he turns, shell-shocked, there stands Hina. She’s as beautiful as he remembers, resplendent in a blue silk, corset and petticoats. Her hair is pinned, curls around her lovely face. She holds a parasol over his head, though there is no rain or snow. It’s red, covering him where he crouches in the middle of the busy street. She’s bending forward slightly as she shields him, smiling warmly.

Gu Dongmae blinks, unable to breathe. This must be a dream. She cannot be here. He’d lost her; he knows he’d lost her. He’d felt her last breath on his back as he carried her across the sand that horrible, horrible day. Felt her grow cold and heavy and so very dead. Though he’d prayed, the Gods had taken her from him, and she’d died after confessing the impossible to him.

“I lost you,” he says, reverently and in agony.

Her touch on his cheek is feather-light. He leans against it, closing his eyes briefly, before opening them again. He does not want to look away, in fear of her disappearance.

“You’ve found me again,” she says, and he forgives her everything.

Hina finds Huiseong reading under the shade of a cherry tree, looming large in the gardens of Heaven. As usual, Dongmae is a few steps behind his lady, unwilling to leave her side. Hina lowers herself onto her knees, daintily sitting at the nobleman’s side. Dongmae is less covert, simply plopping down onto the tired roots of the First Cherry Tree. Huiseong looks up with a welcoming smile, lowering his book.

“You’ve come out of your abode at last,” he remarks with a cheerful lilt in his voice. “How fortuitous!”

The pair blush, Dongmae looking away to hide a smirk. Huiseong notes it, but says nothing. He is happy for his friend to have found joy and love in the afterlife. In his opinion, they both deserve that and more.

Hina decides it’s safest to change the subject. “Where on Earth did you find that book? I’ve yet to see a library here.”

Huiseong’s gaze is back to his book, humming softly. “Ask and ye shall receive,” he says loftily, to which Dongmae kicks him in the shin. Huiseong winces, glaring at his friend. “If you ask the right people, enough times, you’ll find the bookstore.”

“So you annoyed someone into disclosing the location of a bookstore,” Dongmae surmises, snorting when the nobleman clicks his tongue in annoyance. The petals fall around them, and the young man is momentarily distracted by the sight.

“So it is time…” he sighs, closing the book.

All three rise, turning toward the gates. The walk is brief, even if their steps lag in hesitance. There is a dichotomy to their countenance as they stride toward the newcomers; a melding of pleasure, dismay and mourning.

They find Aeshin’s servants already at the gate, their hands joined as they peer anxiously into the bright light that blocks their view of the river and the bridge beyond. More people join them, materializing almost out of thin air. A beautiful lady and her husband, an aged clergyman, the elderly Lord Go, Officer Jang, the tavern owner and many more people unknown even to Kudo Hina. The gates hum, vibrate and grow even brighter. Silence settles over those gathered, awaiting the new arrivals. It has been many years since their parting and they have been dearly missed.

Together, they wait.

To be Continued…

All dogs go to heaven. This is fact.

[thecloudlight-blog]

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New Apps Provide a World of Literature

A machine that kicked off the phone growth and forever changed the manner we speak, accumulate and eat records. With portability and a knack for alleviating boredom, the iPhone and its ilk obviously have become ad hoc e-book readers for busy humans seeking brief breakout to fictional locations from nonfiction reality, like being trapped in transit or stuck in a Trader Joe’s line stretching to infinity and beyond.

Serious readers understand squinting thru a sprawling novel can take a few attempt at the small display. But just as websites, films, and games soon adapted themselves for the phone experience, a brand new form of “cellular fiction” has emerged to match the confines of the tool — and today’s on-demand mindset.

Modern cellular fiction commonly consists of sections of a novel or story that take just 15 to twenty mins to take in.

The installments are cleanly formatted for smooth reading on a 4- or five-inch display and delivered at ordinary periods through e-mail or app (Android and iOS). Cliffhangers are famous.

RADISH announced its debut in advance this yr and is one of the more modern businesses hoping to make the idea of serialized tales for smartphones as a hit right here as it’s far in Asia — mainly in China and Japan, where the form has been famous for years. In the Radish app, readers subscribe to character works on a by means of chapter foundation and provide small payments (starting at less than a dollar, and writers get a reduce) to continue beyond the primary few sections.

The Radish content material is written on the whole by self-published authors and looked after through genre

Romance, fantasy, paranormal, teen, thriller, L.G.B.T., science fiction and fashionable. For extra refined looking and discovery, testimonies are also tagged with labels like “black girl magic,” “billionaire,” “insurrection,” “werewolf” and so forth. The fine of the writing varies — and plenty of efforts constantly appear to end up as ham-fisted erotica — however Radish books are proudly taking the mantle of snackable pulp fiction into the digital age. (And don’t knock do-it-yourself authors — “Shades of Grey” aside, Andy Weir’s “The Martian” began out as a self-posted serial on his blog again in 2009 before the 2015 film model grossed $630 million at the global container workplace.)

Mobile Apps – A Necessity While You Are on the Go

Since the past a long time, human evolution has been absolutely patronized with tendencies in digital computing sectors which might be constantly growing their diameter through a chain of innovative innovations. Today, we’re within the era wherein a virtual world has already begun to take form over the real world with a promise of endless opportunities. Our global is transforming on the bottom of sand to silicon and is depending on the complexities of code to ultrathin fabricated chips which strength our remotes to this virtual world i.E. Smartphones, laptops and many others.

Imagining the sector without those powerful devices and internet is out of the query.

The smartphones have already altered the humans’ thoughts approximately experiencing the world. Furthermore, there may be bias in every and the whole lot that surrounds them. For instance, our look for new locations and the war to locate them has almost vaporized for the reason that invention of “Google MAPS.” Google Maps has enabled its user to discover the preferred region in no time and get a pre-routed map to get there. The utility or “APPS” on the Smartphone could be described as software program or collection of encrypted code which runs on the phone hardware just as a program on computer systems/laptops. Directly or circuitously these ‘APPs’ paintings as the primary verbal exchange bodies which are responsible for interplay and paintings are performed through a phone.

These mobile applications could be categorized on the premise of – hardware they’re used on and environment on which they’re programmed specifically android, ubuntu, apple iOS and so on. Since the inception of digitalization trend, the entirety we will suppose upon has an APP to be had on a phone; for instance, from reserving a cab to ordering meals, to shopping online – there are multiple packages for each of them.

Leading People in the VUCA World

Warren Bennis, an American student and a pioneer of the present day subject of Leadership Studies said that achievement in control requires gaining knowledge of as rapid as the world is changing. Especially, we’re now entering into the digital age and the whole lot movements very speedy. If we can’t maintain up with the one’s changes, we will be left at the back of. This article will discover four key areas to address speedily converting global.

American Military used an acronym known as VUCA to describe severe situations in Afghanistan and Iraq. It stands for Volatile, Uncertain, Complex and Ambiguous. Actually, VUCA does no longer exist handiest in Afghanistan and Iraq, it may be discovered in countries, townships, households and organizations. It is everywhere and usually supplies a hard time to leaders.

Volatile: Things are not very easy to predict like earlier than. With the new generation

The sector will become like a huge village and smaller. Everything can take place at any time in everywhere.

Uncertain: Nothing is permanent and present day enterprise international is complete of uncertainty. If we need to make choices most effective when we know things very genuinely, we may additionally by no means make decisions in this speedy converting world. Complex: Almost all conditions are very complicated within the enterprise now an afternoon. Leaders are going through many troubles and challenges associated with many rules and regulations which need to be compliance with, plenty necessities, product problems. Ambiguous: Everything is unclear and vague. Unclear conditions, rules, regulations & regulations make leaders harassed. It is very tough for leaders to make clear decisions. Therefore, a pacesetter needs to recognize the phrase VUCA this is used to describe excessive conditions in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Leaders should create some other VUCA as a way to deal with the VUCA that is meant for the intense conditions. They are Vision, Understanding, Clarity, and Agility. Vision: Since the destiny is not easy to be anticipated, leaders ought to have a clear imaginative and prescient in which they want to head. Leader while not having any feel, of course, will fail ultimately.

Understanding: Leader needs to be capable of recognizing the conditions where there is complete of uncertainty. A leader need to apprehend their business, the situations they’re in, and people who they may be dealing with. Clarity: Most of the enterprise situations are complex and complex, leaders need to be able to see matters virtually and create readability. They ought to be able to clarify things which aren’t positive or unclear.

Agility: When matters are doubtful and indistinct, it will very tough for leaders to make selections. Therefore, the chief should have the ability and should have potential to move quickly and effortlessly. There is only one aspect that isn’t always modified is an alternate. Leaders must face the VUCA global with clear thoughts (Head), correct mindset and right mindset (Heart), and the courage to make things occurs (Hand). In different words, leaders need to have a clean imaginative and prescient, they need to be capable of understanding the situations and those, they should be capable of seeing matters actually, and that they must be able to move speedily and easily. By doing so, the chief will be capable of lead their humans to continue to exist within the VUCA paintings this is extraordinarily hard.

Love Poems in Sanskrit Literature

Remember Sir Walter Scott’s, Brignall Banks? ‘A maiden at the fort wall, Was making a song merrily,-,”O, Brignall banks are clean and honest, And Greta woods are green; I’d alternatively rove with Edmund there, Than reign our English queen.”

What a beautiful sentiment is being expressed there? Similar poems are available in loads of English Literature. But in case you come across Sanskrit and Tamil literature lots of Love poems will take you to a greater level.

Every unmarried movement of a lover will become a terrific epic! The poets left no stone unturned. In order to study all the poems and soak up the, that means we might also need masses of years.

The love poems are analyzed threadbare through the wonderful pupils and in these poems, the sentiment or ‘rasa’ reigns very best.

The emotion of affection is inborn in the human coronary heart. But it will come to prominence once it reveals an item for its activity.

Take a case of a fascinating youth. He occurs to see a lovely young female. His emotion of affection is aroused. He starts to think about her. Fortunately, if he meets her in a secluded vicinity and the mutual love is completely advanced, they revel in the ‘rasa’.

But within the poetry the ‘rasa’ even though developed within the characters inside the poem, they’re no longer enjoying or tasting it, however, the readers are enjoying it.

The mystery of the good poetry is to offer that ‘rasa’ or sentiment to the reader.

Sanskrit love poems are usually successful in giving this lovely sentiment.

If you move in deep, the literature gives numerous elements of affection. Coding machine isn’t a modern one. In historic instances, the fans used this system. Only the lovers will understand their language. This has been defined in love poems in an element. Also, there’s a sign language. The gestures give exclusive meanings. Meeting area, meeting time and so forth. Will be communicated via this signal language. If there are a few own family individuals gift inside the accumulating, the female will communicate to her lover the use of this language. Their global is specific and there’s no location for others.

    Originally posted 2016-08-27 05:55:58.

[i-am-very-very-tired]

Interview Magazine tapped Solange Knowles’ big sis Beyoncé to conduct their interview for the latest issue of the mag. The two siblings chopped it up about the makings of Solo’s critically acclaimed A Seat At The Table, the meanings and importance of cuts like Cranes In The Sky and other treasurable tidbits about Solo’s voice then and now, family life and growing up in Houston. BEYONCÉ: Are you exhausted? I know you had a parent-teacher conference … SOLANGE: Yeah, I actually had to fly to Philly because there were no flights left to New York. And now I’m driving from Philly to New York. Well, I’m not driving, but … BEYONCÉ: You have to drive? From Philly? SOLANGE: Yeah. But it’s not bad. It’s only an hour and 40 minutes. BEYONCÉ: Oh my God! Rock star. Well, it is a bit strange, because we’re sisters and we talk all the time, to be interviewing you. But I’m so happy to interview you because, clearly, I’m your biggest fan and I’m super proud of you. So we’ll start from the beginning. Growing up, you were always attracted to the most interesting fashion, music, and art. You were obsessed with Alanis Morissette and Minnie Riperton and mixing prints with your clothes … when you were only 10 years old. You would lock yourself in a room with your drum set and a record player and write songs. Do you remember that? Of course you do. SOLANGE: I do. [both laugh] BEYONCÉ: What else attracted you growing up? SOLANGE: I remember having so much perspective about my voice, and how to use my voice, at such a young age—whether it was through dance, poetry, or coming up with different projects. I guess I always felt a yearning to communicate—I had a lot of things to say. And I appreciated y’all’s patience in the house during all of these different phases. They were not ever very introverted, quiet phases. BEYONCÉ: No, not at all. [both laugh] I remember thinking, “My little sister is going to be something super special,” because you always seemed to know what you wanted. And I’m just curious, where did that come from? SOLANGE: I have no idea, to be honest! I always knew what I wanted. We damn sure know that I wasn’t always right. [both laugh] But I’d sit firm, whether I was right or wrong. I guess a part of that was being the baby of the family and being adamant that, in a house of five, my voice was being heard. Another part is that I remember being really young and having this voice inside that told me to trust my gut. And my gut has been really, really strong in my life. It’s pretty vocal and it leads me. Sometimes I haven’t listened, and those times didn’t end up very well for me. I think all of our family—you and mom—we’re all very intuitive people. A lot of that comes through our mother, her always following her gut, and I think that spoke to me really loudly at a young age and encouraged me to do the same. BEYONCÉ: You write your own lyrics, you co-produce your own tracks, you write your own treatments for your videos, you stage all of your performances, all of the choreography … Where does the inspiration come from? SOLANGE: It varies. For one, I got to have a lot of practice. Growing up in a household with a master class such as yourself definitely didn’t hurt. And, as far back as I can remember, our mother always taught us to be in control of our voice and our bodies and our work, and she showed us that through her example. If she conjured up an idea, there was not one element of that idea that she was not going to have her hand in. She was not going to hand that over to someone. And I think it’s been an interesting thing to navigate, especially watching you do the same in all aspects of your work: Society labels that a control freak, an obsessive woman, or someone who has an inability to trust her team or to empower other people to do the work, which is completely untrue. There’s no way to succeed without having a team and all of the moving parts that help bring it into life. But I do have—and I’m unafraid to say it—a very distinctive, clear vision of how I want to present myself and my body and my voice and my perspective. And who better to really tell that story than yourself? For this record specifically, it really started with wanting to unravel some truths and some untruths. There were things that had been weighing heavy on me for quite some time. And I went into this hole, trying to work through some of these things so that I could be a better me and be a better mom to Julez and be a better wife and a better friend and a better sister. Which is a huge part of why I wanted you to interview me for this piece. Because the album really feels like storytelling for us all and our family and our lineage. And having mom and dad speak on the album, it felt right that, as a family, this closed the chapter of our stories. And my friends’ stories—every day, we’re texting about some of the micro-aggressions we experience, and that voice can be heard on the record, too. The inspiration for this record came from all of our voices as a collective, and wanting to look at it and explore it. I’m so happy I got to take my time in that process. And the end result feels really rewarding. BEYONCÉ: Well, it brought tears to my eyes to hear both of our parents speak openly about some of their experiences. And what made you choose Master P to speak on the album? SOLANGE: Well, I find a lot of similarities in Master P and our dad. BEYONCÉ: Me, too. [laughs] SOLANGE: One of the things that was really, really deep for me in talking to Dad is his experience of having the community choose you [as one of the first students to integrate his Southern elementary and junior high school]—to do that, to go out and be the warrior and the face of that is just such an incredible amount of pressure. And to evolve from that and still have your sense of independence and still have your stride and your strength, and to dream big enough that you can create something from the ground up bigger than any community, neighborhood, or those four corners … I remember reading or hearing things about Master P that reminded me so much of Dad growing up. And they also have an incredible amount of love and respect for one another. And I wanted a voice throughout the record that represented empowerment and independence, the voice of someone who never gave in, even when it was easy to lose sight of everything that he built, someone invested in black people, invested in our community and our storytelling, in empowering his people. You and I were raised being told not to take the first thing that came our way, to build our own platforms, our own spaces, if they weren’t available to us. And I think that he is such a powerful example of that. BEYONCÉ: What does the song title “Cranes in the Sky” mean? SOLANGE: “Cranes in the Sky” is actually a song that I wrote eight years ago. It’s the only song on the album that I wrote independently of the record, and it was a really rough time. I know you remember that time. I was just coming out of my relationship with Julez’s father. We were junior high school sweethearts, and so much of your identity in junior high is built on who you’re with. You see the world through the lens of how you identify and have been identified at that time. So I really had to take a look at myself, outside of being a mother and a wife, and internalize all of these emotions that I had been feeling through that transition. I was working through a lot of challenges at every angle of my life, and a lot of self-doubt, a lot of pity-partying. And I think every woman in her twenties has been there—where it feels like no matter what you are doing to fight through the thing that is holding you back, nothing can fill that void. I used to write and record a lot in Miami during that time, when there was a real estate boom in America, and developers were developing all of this new property. There was a new condo going up every ten feet. You recorded a lot there as well, and I think we experienced Miami as a place of refuge and peace. We weren’t out there wilin’ out and partying. I remember looking up and seeing all of these cranes in the sky. They were so heavy and such an eyesore, and not what I identified with peace and refuge. I remember thinking of it as an analogy for my transition—this idea of building up, up, up that was going on in our country at the time, all of this excessive building, and not really dealing with what was in front of us. And we all know how that ended. That crashed and burned. It was a catastrophe. And that line came to me because it felt so indicative of what was going on in my life as well. And, eight years later, it’s really interesting that now, here we are again, not seeing what’s happening in our country, not wanting to put into perspective all of these ugly things that are staring us in the face. You can read the interview in its entirety over on Interview’s site.