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exhausted-dog-mom · 3 years

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Underwater (2020) Fix It Fanfic

Last year, I was commissioned to write a fix it fic for the horror movie Underwater. I had no idea it was a horror movie until after I agreed to write it, lol. I'm a coward at the best of times and writing this gave me nightmares for months. It's 24k words and almost 55 pages long. I rewrote the whole dang movie, lol. The entire fic is on my Patreon, but here are the first 2k words.

Norah followed behind Rodrigo as they picked their way carefully through the debris. Her body shivered uncontrollably, her meager clothing long soaked through by water of questionable quality. The tinny, prerecorded voice of the infographics which once lined the walls echoed in the too tight hallways, skipping as sparks crackled along the broken screens. Great slabs of concrete and torn sheets of metal made their progress slow, their flashlights illuminating little more than water. The hallway they were following to CR-7 was far from a direct route, but it was the only one they were both able to traverse, and Norah knew she wasn’t alone in wanting to stick together—not after closing the bulkheads.

She dismissed that thought. She didn’t have time to think about that. Not when the path before them suddenly stopped, the way forward cut off by a serious cave in.

“Can we dig through there?” She asked, watching as Rodrigo crouched down and began moving loose bits of rubble.

He called back, uncertain but willing to try, and Norah began scanning the area for alternate routes. They didn’t have time to double back and find another way. The Kepler wouldn’t last long and every second they wasted not getting to the pods was another second the entire station deteriorated around them.

She took a chance and put her weight on a ledge above where Rodrigo was digging, shining her light down a narrow passage that might allow them both through. Maybe.

“Hey,” she called down to her colleague. “I can fit through there if you can.”

He came up and looked at her discovery, considering the rough looking tunnel.

Distantly, Norah heard something. A voice. She had to turn her head to catch it, the hearing in her left ear completely gone, but it was there.

“Hello?” She called out, hope rising in her throat. “Hello? Can you hear that?” She didn’t wait for Rodrigo’s response, leaving him behind as she clambered over derelict ductwork and dodged sharp edges, shining her flashlight on everything as she searched desperately for any sign of life. “Keep talking, I can hear you!”

She turned her right ear to the ground, tracing the source of the muffled voice to a pile of concrete slabs, the edges sharp against her hands as she began to pull on them with a strength she didn’t know she had. Rodrigo came up beside her, helping to free whoever was trapped underneath. The first thing she saw as they pulled back a layer of rubble was a stuffed rabbit, the furlike fabric covered in grease and who knew what else. She stared at it, confused, for all of two seconds before joy and recognition filled her with renewed vigor.

“Paul?” Sure enough, as she took the rabbit from upstretched hands, her friend’s face came into view, his eyes clenched shut against the brightness of Rodrigo’s flashlight. She handed the rabbit to Rodrigo, reaching down into the crevice to get better leverage for lifting Paul’s not insignificant weight. With Rodrigo’s help, she pushed back the final slab, revealing the drill worker in all his bare chested glory, his skin coated in dust and grime. His hand held on to hers tightly and she watched as recognition bloomed in his eyes.

“Norah?”

“Hi.” She was as breathless as he was, a shaky laugh passing through chattering teeth.

Paul smiled up at her, squeezing her hand as he laughed right back. “Oh, you sweet, flat chested elven creature.”

She couldn’t even be mad at him. She was sure she made quite the sight, in her sports bra and sweats, but it was no better than his.

She watched her friend breathe harshly for a second, lungs taking full advantage of their renewed capacity now that the weight of the debris was no longer crushing his chest. She knew the instant his brain had reoxygenated, because he turned to Rodrigo, a man he’d probably never interacted with before, like Norah, and asked after his rabbit.

His concern for his little buddy was endearing, though she knew the stuffed toy couldn’t hold a candle to the real Little Paul, alive and waiting seven miles above them on dry land.

Getting Paul out of the hole was a process, but they did it, the large man standing before them in nothing but a robe, boxers, and one lucky sock. He cradled the rabbit against his chest like a living animal, his attachment to the thing so much stronger after so long down in the deep.

Norah lead the way back down the hall, flickering blue lights casting eerie shadows on the walls. “There are pods in CR-7,” she explained over her shoulder, the joy she felt at finding her friend alive tempered by a renewed desperation to get out. “The upper decks are collapsing, so we’ve gotta move fast.”

She pulled herself up onto the ledge, Rodrigo helping her from below. She caught the tail end of Paul’s whining complaint and she rolled her eyes. Leave it to him to find something to complain about during a life or death situation.

Paul was much larger than either her or Rodrigo, but, as Norah crawled through the cramped tunnel, she was pretty sure he’d be able to fit. She had little trouble scooting through the dark, her movements sending the light from her flashlight in all sorts of disorienting directions. Everything was grey, with the exception of the odd wire or two, exposed copper stinging her wet skin as she brushed up against it. She turned back to look at her two companions, the men clearly having a harder time than she was.

“You guys ok?”

“Yeah,” Rodrigo nodded to her, dust clinging to his dark skin. Behind him, Paul grumbled out an affirming expletive.

Turning back, she immediately recoiled, flashlight dropping from her grasp and teeth clacking loudly in her skull.

Closing her eyes against the terrifying sight, she called back to the boys. “There’s-there’s someone up here.” She swallowed thickly. “It’s McClellen.”

Just like that, the high from unburying Paul was gone, replaced by the grim certainty that his survival was nothing short of a miracle and the odds of finding anyone else alive were incredibly slim.

How many were left alive? How many more would there be if she had waited just a little longer? How many were dead because of her?

McClellen had no answers for her, blue eyes locked unseeing on something far in the distance. Norah took a shaky breath, bolstering herself as she began to move past the other woman. Their hands touched as she did, the fading warmth she felt deepening the ever growing pit in her stomach.

If she’d waited, would McClellen still be alive?

Would Paul be dead?

Those questions, like all the others, were tossed aside as she resumed the slow journey forward, eyes locked on the darkness ahead of her. There was no telling what waited out there, just beyond the range of her flashlight, but she didn’t have time to lose herself to what ifs and should haves. There were two men behind her, two living, breathing men, and that was enough. It had to be enough.

The cramped tunnel let out to an open space—another hallway, by the looks of it—and Norah carefully climbed out and set her feet on the ground. The light here was red, a sign that the emergency systems were working, at least, and she could only hope that the way to the escape pods was open. She led the way, following a mental map of the rig as automated voices rang out overhead. Their flashlights reflected off the tall windows which surrounded the evacuation room, the reinforced glass surprisingly intact compared to the wreckage all around it. Norah stumbled over a rogue pipe, her mind going blank as it struggled to put together what she was seeing.

“Captain?”

Sparks flew, the display illuminating Captain Lucien’s back where he sat hunched over inside the closed off rotunda. He made no indication that he’d heard her, his head in his hands as he sat alone in the dark. Norah hit the control panel, but he didn’t react to the obnoxious sound it made in protest. Squinting through the glass, her heart sank as she took in the damage surrounding him, the escape pods they’d all put so much hope in clearly no longer an option.

“Shit.”

“Shit?” Paul winced as he came over to stand beside her, looking over her shoulder into the dark. “What’s shit?”

“The evac pods are gone.” Norah tuned out her friend’s frenzied cursing as she pounded on the glass, calling for her Captain. Could he even hear her through the reinforced windows? They were designed to withstand sudden changes in pressure—likely why they were still intact—but did that mean they also blocked out sound?

The answer was no, they couldn’t, and Norah deflated with relief when Lucien turned around, face lighting up as he recognized first her then the men behind her.

“Norah,” he called, his voice muffled but still intelligible through the glass as he rushed over. “You’re alive.” He didn’t sound like he believed it, but she could understand the sentiment. “The door’s jammed.”

Right. Of course, it was. He probably would have left if it wasn’t. Norah quickly moved over to the control panel, mentally apologizing to the machine for hitting it as she tried to find some way to override the lock. Absently, she recognized the Captain giving orders to Paul and Rodrigo, both men rushing to obey, though Paul complained loudly between hissing breaths.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad’s my rig?”

His attempt at humor fell a little flat and Norah looked up at him incredulously as the doors opened. “Uh,” she looked him up and down in the harsh white lights which conveniently decided to turn back on. His left arm was in a sling, miscellaneous bruises and cuts littered across his face. Shit. “Ten. We’re, um, seventy percent compromised—breathe too hard and we’re in trouble.”

He didn’t appreciate her candor, turning away from her with a grim expression before turning back around and reaching for her face with his good hand, looking at her damaged ear with a grimace.

“What happened,” she asked through chattering teeth, the two seconds she’d spent standing still reminding her body of how cold it was. “Was it an earthquake?”

“I don’t know.” That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “I’m trying to figure it out.”

She watched, still somewhat dazed, as he pulled a large red med kit out from seemingly nowhere, using his one hand to its full effectiveness as he rummaged through it.

“I don’t understand.” Her voice forced its way through her tight throat, swallowing only thickening the knot living there. “Why are you still here? There were pods here, you could have left.”

He gave her a look she was sure he’d leveled on his child a thousand times before. It certainly made her feel like one. “That’s what Captains do.”

“Who cares?” She couldn’t stop the words or the incredulity which laced them. “You have a kid. You should have gone up.”

He froze, expression blank as his mouth opened and closed, eyes shut as he tried to find the words to respond to that. Instead, he urged her to sit down, returning to the med kit as though she hadn’t said anything.

“You know any one of us would have shoved your ass into a pod—.”

“Listen to me!”

Norah shut her mouth, staring wide eyed at her Captain as he kneeled in front of her, mouth tense as he glared up at her. His French accent was thicker in his anger, coloring his words as he gestured wildly with his good arm.

“Everyone is getting out of here alive.” He said it with such conviction, Norah was almost able to believe him. “You here me? I already sent twenty two up, Smith reported seven dead.”

Warmth spread in her chest at the news that Smith, at least, was still alive. She hadn’t let herself consider any other possibilities but having her old friend’s survival confirmed relieved a tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying. She gave a stuttering report of the dead she and Rodrigo had found before coming across Paul, and she struggled past telling him about McClellen, nonsensical words spilling from her lips—she lived three floors up, I was brushing my teeth, her hands were still warm, I shut the bulkheads on the entire East Wing so there’s definitely more.

Captain Lucien, to his credit, remained staunchly focused on cleaning her ear, damp gauze coming away from it bloody. Whatever was wrong with it, it stung when he touched it, the pain a welcome reminder that she was alive, only living people could bleed, and a grim one that so many people weren’t.

#fanfiction #my writing #underwater #underwater 2020 #this took months to finish #i really am a coward #nothing in the synopsis prepared me for a horror movie #i thought it was just a survival drama #lmao

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jimlingss · 4 years

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Sugar and Coffee [21]

Chapter 20 - Chapter 21 - Chapter 21.5 OR Chapter 22

➜ Words: 4.5k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Baking is a mastery. It’s an ability that needs to be practiced and refined. It requires discipline and patience, especially when things go wrong. It’s problem solving and creative with never one right answer. It’s practically magic in a silver bowl, a whisk, and an oven. And Jungkook is the best wizard in this kitchen. He preheats the oven to three hundred and seventy five degrees fahrenheit. Then he cuts parchment paper to line a baking sheet and moves to brush the ramekins with melted butter. Jungkook adds the tablespoon of white sugar and rotates the ramekins until the surfaces are coated in it. Five ounces of seventy percent dark chocolate is put into a bowl with two ounces of semisweet chocolate and he melts it over a saucepan with hot water on low heat. Afterwards, he adds the egg yolks until the mixture stiffens. Jungkook wipes his sweat before he mixes in the tablespoon of flour and butter, reducing the heat to low and adding in some cold milk. It’s thickened after three minutes and he adds salt, a pinch of cayenne pepper as a secret ingredient, and mixes. The bowl is left over hot water while he whips egg whites with a pinch of cream of tartar, adding sugar after a bit to create glossy, soft peaks. Jungkook transfers the egg whites into the soufflé base, folding it in gently one third at a time and then he divides the mixture to bake for a full fifteen minutes. What he’s left with at the end is the best chocolate soufflé on the planet. “What do you think?” “It’s really good.” Aeri politely smiles and you roll your eyes. “You don’t need to feed his ego. He’s been raving about it for days now.” “And you’ve eaten at least ten of them.” Jungkook grins and you mutter incoherently, unable to really protest against the claim that’s all too true. The soufflé is puffed and crusty on top, but still gooey and jiggly in the center. It’s risen to its maximum height without collapsing whatsoever, uniform all around. And the texture is cloud-like, soft with the chocolate taste melting on the palate. It took two weeks to perfect — but the outcome made the effort all worth it. “I call it the ultimate soufflé.” Your brows raise. “The ultimate? Not Jungkook’s ultimate?” “Nope. The ultimate.” He smirks and leans into you. “Want another one?” You hope he doesn’t know that it takes a lot of strength for you to reject. Jungkook’s good at baking. That much is clear. You’re not sure if he’s as good as you are of course, but anything that has to do with chocolate practically has his name on it. His chocolate soufflé is no exception. It’s fucking delicious. Enough that even Yoongi asks for seconds and Taehyung almost starts to cry. But you don’t want to admit just how good it is since his ego’s been boundless these past few days. “How does it feel to be in a relationship with the best chocolatier on Earth?” he pipes up suddenly when you haven’t even said a single word for the past five minutes. And when you tell Jungkook he’s not a chocolatier yet, he laughs and tells you he will be soon while condescendingly patting your head like you’re his pet. As if that wasn’t enough, he interrupts snuggling time by rolling over with a pompous look on his face. “I’m just so happy right now.” “Why?” You’re expecting a corny answer along the lines of — ‘because you’re here’. But instead Jungkook sighs dreamily and says, “I really nailed that soufflé, didn’t I?” It’s annoying. You’re just trying to live your life peacefully but in every shape, way, or form, no matter the context, he just has to bring up that goddamn soufflé like it’s his child he’s so proud of. It’s not like you aren’t happy for your boyfriend — frankly, you wouldn’t mind if he bragged or boasted about it to others. But he’s been constantly chirping about it in your ear. And any complaints from you would just warrant his grins and questions of if you’re jealous of his skills. “I don’t know what to add to my portfolio,” you mention passingly one afternoon after much contemplation. Your boyfriend hums. “You need something with chocolate, right?” “Yeah.” “Well, you could make my soufflé. I’m sure it would help with your grade a lot, but—,” Jungkook draws out the syllable with another sly smirk, “my recipe’s a secret. Sorry, babe. Wish I could help.” In spite of your inner exhaustion and vexation, for the sake of being a good girlfriend, you simply nod and let him have his moment. Even if Jeon Jungkook was being unbearably arrogant and reminding you of why you hated him about a year ago, he was clearly happy with the recipe he worked so hard on and you didn’t want to step on that. He deserves some personal limelight, so you let him have it. But luckily, you don’t have to bear the weight of his smug ass by yourself for long. “Yuna!” Your arm waves over your head. The high schooler smiles, rolling her luggage behind her and meeting with you halfway. Immediately, you engulf her in your arms even when she grumbles and resists. “How was the trip here? You’re not hungry, are you?” “God, you’re like my mom,” she huffs. “It was fine. Hey, Jungkook.” Yuna shifts and smiles warmly at your boyfriend who nods, greeting her as well. “Hey.” “So this is the school you go to?” You grin. “Sure is!” The last time you were with Yuna, she expressed interest in the professional baking and pastry arts program. You didn’t expect that she would actually come visit during the week-long break for a tour but it was a surprise you welcomed. You hope you can take her interest and curiosity and inspire her. “Namjoon and Sejeong packed some cookies for you. They told me to say...thanks….for showing me around when you’re busy and stuff.” “It’s not a problem. I’m happy to.” You smile. “Tell them I said thanks too.” “Taehyung’s joining us,” Jungkook reads off his phone and then pockets it. “Apparently, he’s bored.” You shrug. “Fine by me.” “Who’s Taehyung?” Yuna asks. “Just a friend of ours,” you say to ease her obvious worries of the stranger. The three of you wait a few minutes, getting caught up with one another as Yuna talks about what her last classes were about. But soon after, the tall brunette is strolling over with his hands buried in his white hoodie pockets. His hair is disheveled like he just rolled out of bed and you don’t think that’s too far from the truth. “Jimin ditched me to go on some date with the chick from his classic desserts class,” he whines when he gets in ear-shot distance. “I thought I was going to die of boredom.” “Tough life,” you scoff and don’t notice Yuna who’s frozen next to you. Her eyes are wide on the stranger, gaze sweeping up and down at him. She swallows hard before stepping forward and making herself known. “H-Hi. My name is Kim Yuna.” “Oh yeah.” Taehyung grins easily. “They told me about you.” “Did they? I’m glad.” She giggles and tucks her hair behind her ear. You exchange expressions with Jungkook. This was an awfully familiar situation. “I’m Namjoon’s niece, their boss during their internship.” “I’m Kim Taehyung.” They shake hands and Yuna goes in for the kill without hesitation— “Does your girlfriend know you’re here?” Taehyung is flustered, taken aback by the blunt question. “I….don’t have a girlfriend.” “Great.” Yuna answers swiftly with a big smile. You have to admit, she’s bold. The girl has some guts even you don’t have. And you’ve never witnessed Taehyung this perplexed either. It’s hard to catch someone as spontaneous as him off guard. “How old are you?” Taehyung frowns, an apprehensive expression etched on his features like you’re telling him to touch a gooey substance in the corner of some dirty bathroom stall. “I turned eighteen in May,” she declares bluntly. But Taehyung looks unconvinced despite his slow nod. “That’s barely legal,” he mutters and only you and Jungkook catch it. It’s hard to hold back laughter, but you try your best and interrupt— “Should we start the tour?” You show her around campus, walking through the corridors, directing her where the lecture halls are and what classes are where. You tell her what it was like for first years and you show her the dormitories, the lockers, the dining hall, and the kitchen area. All in the meanwhile, Taehyung sticks to Jungkook’s side like gum. It’s obvious that he’s intimidated by the petite high schooler and it’s an amusing sight. But Yuna is a go-getter and somehow manages to get Taehyung beside her to answer her numerous questions. You and Jungkook fall back, no longer showing her the way and you’re reduced to watching their backsides. “You know what I want to eat right now?” Jungkook turns to you, mumbling, “My soufflé.” Here we go again…. You internally sigh, but maintain a stiff smile. “Uh-huh.” “I should make it for Yuna. She’d be blown away.” “What?” The younger girl twirls around at the mention of her name. Jungkook grins at her. “You like soufflé? I make the best chocolate soufflé here.” Yuna blinks, too innocent to know better. “Really?” “Your soufflé isn’t even that good.” It’s a lie. “I bet I could do it better.” That’s an even bigger lie, but you can’t stop it once it’s spewed out of your mouth. It goes silent. Jungkook stops walking. Taehyung turns around. “You think you can make a better chocolate soufflé than me?” Your boyfriend’s eyes narrow, taking personal offence. You shrug — it’s too late to back down now. “Why not? Can’t be that hard.” Jungkook scoffs with a stupidly smug expression, calling your bluff. “You can barely temper chocolate.” “You underestimate me, Jeon,” you bite back and his lips curl. “Fine. Let’s see then.” // It was a mistake — something said on impulse, after days of irritation bubbling in the pit of your stomach. It came tumbling out before you could know better, before you could think twice about the consequences, but now you’re standing in the kitchen at an impromptu competition. “Welcome to the annual Jeon and L/N competition, everyone!�� “This isn’t annual,” you mutter at Taehyung’s unnecessary extravagance. He corrects himself— “Welcome to the first annual Jeon and L/N competition, everyone!” The word spread like wildfire, but luckily kept only in the group chat. The last thing you needed were acquaintances, classmates, and teachers coming to watch. The guys were noisy enough. And it’s a testament proven with Yoongi coming over, Hoseok sprinting to get here, and Jimin calling to tell everyone to wait for his date to be over. All of it was enough pressure you could handle at the moment. But even Aeri had caught wind of what was going on and decided to come by. It’s clear that there’s still tension between her and Hoseok. You don’t miss the strained expressions they exchange with one another before taking seats on the opposite ends, but you’re glad that they can at least be in the same room as one another. It’s an improvement. A sign of moving on. Yet you don’t dwell on them — not when you have bigger fish to fry at the moment. “Over here we have Y/N who believes she can make a better chocolate soufflé than Jungkook, an aspiring chocolatier who literally took weeks and weeks to perfect this recipe of his to make it the ultimate soufflé—” “Alright, that’s enough,” you cut off Taehyung, the self-designated commentator, before you start actually sweating. Jungkook is competitive. Everyone and their mother knows that. And that fact alone makes you nervous. He might just throw you entirely under the bus and burn your relationship to the ground for the sake of winning. You’re worried — but you don’t show it. You can’t. If he knows you’re fearful, he’ll have the upper hand. So you feign indifference. After all, if there was one similarity between you and Jungkook, it was that you weren’t going to back down without a fight either. You were born a winner and it was going to stay that way. “And to make it more fair and maximize the amount of desserts we get to eat, over here we have Jeon Jungkook who will be making éclair. A pastry made with choux dough filled with cream and topped with chocolate icing. It is a specialty perfected by Y/N, an aspiring pâtisserie chef who dreams of running her own wedding cake catering services someday.” “Two very different dishes that the opposing member has a speciality in.” Taehyung continues to narrate and nods his head, inadvertently making Yuna giggle, “Who can make it better? You’ll be the judge of that.” It’s ridiculous, but you’re not going to cave in or surrender. Not when Jungkook’s ego was insurmountable and you’d never hear the end of it if you gave up. An hour and a half is put on the clock. Your counters parallel to one another while your friends are gathered at the other, ready to watch, eat their snacks and hang around. You momentarily wonder why you never have the privilege of relaxing like them. But you don’t think about it for too long. The moment Taehyung starts the time, you begin. You preheat the oven and begin buttering the ramekins. “How do you feel, Y/N?” Suddenly a whisk is thrusted in your face, almost puncturing your cheek. It’s a makeshift microphone that you push aside. “Fine.” “What are you doing now?” “What does it look like?” You push Taehyung aside, grabbing sugar to coat the dish. “Well alright then.” He laughs and slinks over to Jungkook’s side who’s humming underneath his breath. He’s much too casual as he finishes greasing a cookie sheet and moves to combine butter and water in a saucepan. “How about you, Jungkook?” “Never been better.” The side of his lip is curled. Jungkook’s black long sleeve is pushed up to his elbows to reveal his forearms, and one peek at him is enough to feel your blood boil. It’s obvious that he doesn’t see you as a threat whatsoever. “You think you’re going to win?” “Unfortunately, I do.” Jungkook plays along with Taehyung’s antics, head so far up in the clouds. “Why unfortunately?” “Well, it’s not everyday I want to crush my girlfriend, but sometimes I just have to.” Jungkook twists to you. “Sorry, babe.” You ignore him, too busy glancing at the label and dumping the chocolate into a small bowl with butter. In the meanwhile, Yoongi chews on his chips and scrutinizes. “Are you sure that’s the right kind?” “Fuck off, Yoongi.” It’s not like you haven’t done this before — you’re just not sure if yours can ever beat Jungkook’s. You whisk in the six egg yolks and add a pinch of sea salt until the melted mixture thickens. At the same time, Jungkook is singing under his breath, forming his pastry dough and piping it out onto his baking sheet. You don’t know how he works so fast, but you concentrate harder, ignoring Jimin asking Yuna if she likes the place so far, disregarding Yoongi’s snarky comments and Hoseok’s music that he turns on as background noise. Once you place egg whites and half a teaspoon of cream of tartar in the electric mixer to beat, you’re finally able to take a moment of relief. Jungkook is also at his mixer beating his heavy cream for the filing. “Nervous, babe?” You scoff at him. “As if.” “Alright then.” Jungkook smirks, almost as if he finds your snobbery endearing. You hate how he can see right through you, but you still maintain the facade anyhow. At this moment, he was your rival first and your boyfriend second. “It smells so good.” Yuna inhales. Aeri smiles at her. “That would be Jungkook's choux pastry in the oven.” “Who do you think is going to win?” Taehyung suddenly asks the high schooler, thrusting the whisk in front of her. She smiles gingerly. “I don’t know. Who do you think will win?” Taehyung hums and ignores the protest of his friend when he says— “I’ll put my money on Y/N.” “Want to bet on it then?” Yuna asks, lashes batting back and forth. “Loser takes the other person to dinner.” “What about you, Chim?” Taehyung immediately diverts his vision, pretending that he doesn’t hear her deal. He even disregards Aeri and Hoseok’s stunned expressions of Yuna’s forwardness. “Who do you think?” You add the sugar carefully, one tablespoon at a time until the egg whites hold glossy, stiff peaks. Then you’re gently folding the egg whites into your soufflé base until it’s a light and fluffy mixture ready to be put into the ramekins. But you know it’s too basic. It would never beat Jungkook’s. So in the midst of your inner hysteria, you sprinkle in a teaspoon of cinnamon and nutmeg. Yoongi, the only person who’s actually watching, quirks his brow but doesn’t say anything. The soufflés are popped into the oven and by then, Jungkook is still working. He’s letting his pastries cool on a rack, his filling already in a piping bag, and he’s busy making the icing. “How do you feel now, Y/N?” “The same.” You shrug. “I know I’m going to win, so…” Your boyfriend lifts his chin, a small smirk gracing his lips. “We’ll see about that.” “You aren’t intimidated whatsoever?” Taehyung asks. “I mean Jungkook’s soufflé was fucking deli—cious. It was like gooey on the inside and so soft, but really crispy on the outside and very, very chocolatey. It felt like an explosion of flavour—” “Alright.” You shut him up and move over to steal Yoongi’s bag of chips, much to his dismay. In the few minutes that you finally get to sit down and rest, you observe Jungkook. In spite of his arrogance, he’s working quite hard. You’re impressed he agreed to make éclairs in just an hour and a half since it usually takes two. But Jungkook works quickly, efficiently, and your eyes can’t help lingering on his exposed forearms, the furrow of his brows, the tip of his tongue peeking out of his pink lips. God. As competitive as you are, a part of you doesn’t even care who wins — you already feel like a winner. The beeping of your oven breaks you out of your daydream. “You should wipe off your saliva,” Yoongi mutters out of the corner of his mouth, knowing full well that you were ogling Jungkook in silence. You glare at the dark-haired man, a silent threat not to say anything lest it becomes clear you have other priorities other than winning. You take your soufflés out of the oven, breathing a sigh of relief when you see them. They all rose. A few with them have cracks and they’re not uniform whatsoever, but it’s more than you hoped for. The aroma of chocolate fills the room, making Yuna antsy in her seat. You begin dusting the top with powdered sugar. “Two minutes left, chefs,” Hoseok warns with a grin, peeking over at Taehyung’s timer. Jungkook is long finished piping his éclairs, already drizzled the chocolate icing over top of it and allowing them to set in the fridge. You step back from your counter as well. “I’m done.” “Same here.” “Finally!” Yuna is cheering. “Can we taste them now?” You’re the first to go since the soufflés are still piping hot. It’s six servings with Yuna receiving the first one since she’s the guest of honour. Then the rest are passed to Taehyung, Yoongi, Jimin, Hoseok, Aeri. They dig in without hesitation and you watch with your breath hitched. “It’s really good,” Hoseok says, chewing in his cheek. “I like it a lot.” Aeri smiles. “You did a good job, Y/N.” “Thanks.” Even if you don’t win, you feel great at your attempt. Yuna hisses when it burns her tongue and she hums after letting it cool. There doesn’t seem to be any complaints from anyone. “The top can be crustier. It’s baked well through though,” Yoongi notes pompously after sniffing his spoonful for the past minute to take in the scent. “Not half bad.” “But is it better than Jungkook’s?” Taehyung asks. It’s silent. No one can give a blatant answer. Jungkook is appalled that they even need to think about it. “Give me that.” He grabs Jimin’s and takes a spoonful. Jungkook bites, chews, and his brows furrow. “What...is that? There's something in there that’s weird. Like the aftertaste is off.” In hindsight, cinnamon and nutmeg probably wasn’t the best idea. But you don’t say anything and you plop your hand on Yoongi’s shoulder as an implicit warning not to speak about it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” It’s your turn to take a taste and the moment it hits your tongue, you know the outcome. It’s miles and miles away from Jungkook’s standards. Your soufflé is good, but not crying-worthy. It doesn’t bring tears to your eyes and make you remember your mother’s home cooking, how you gathered around the table for dessert during warm holidays. The situation only gets shittier when you take a taste of Jungkook’s éclair. The custard is tangy and smooth, pastry crispy and buttery, chocolate icing sweet at all the right places. And all you can think is — what. the. fuck. This guy had to have a cheat code for life. There’s no way he can be so good at everything he does. It’s impossible. It’s unbelievable. It’s unfair. “What do you think?” Jungkook stares at you in particular, trying to gauge your reaction. You swallow hard, managing a half-hearted shrug. “It’s decent.” It’s clear with his smile he can see you’re trying to hide your true feelings. “Want me to save you seconds?” “I’m fine.” You wave your hand at him, despite your heart saying otherwise. It causes Jungkook to chuckle, but he doesn’t push to spare your pride. It’s hard to tell if his éclair is better than yours — but the mere fact that Jungkook hadn’t even had time to perfect his recipe or practice yet made it this good has your knees weak. You’re glad you don’t have him as your competition on a daily basis anymore. “This is pretty good,” Yuna admits, licking off her fingers. Yoongi seems to be enjoying it as well, eating quietly as he studies it. Hoseok is making noises at the back of his throat and Taehyung nods in approval. “Have you only made this once before?” Jimin asks. “Once or twice. Can’t remember.” Jungkook grins and that’s even more impressive. You’re conflicted of being proud of having such a talented boyfriend and being spiteful of him as a rival. Eventually, Taehyung dismisses the two of you for the rest of them to ‘deliberate’ and judge. You step out into the hallway and Jungkook throws his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. “Don’t be too sad when you lose, babe. I’ll comfort you with my golden trophy.” “There is no trophy.” “Hmmm, how about a kiss then?” His nose bumps against you, smiling wide. You feign a pout. “I’ll think about it.” “Alright, love birds.” Taehyung pokes his head out of the door in less than two minutes. “We’ve made our decision.” You gather back together again. All of them are pretending to be very experienced pâtisserie chefs with decades of experience. It’s both an amusing and lame sight — but you don’t comment in case they decide to deduct your points and Jimin grins, reading off the paper he has in front of him. “Y/N, your chocolate soufflé was very moist and delectable. It had the perfect amount of sweetness. We found your techniques to be very competent and proficient. The presentation was great. The texture was very soft and the flavour was very deep. The aftertaste, on the other hand, was unique and different. It caused many to continue tasting to pinpoint what it was. You obviously accomplished what you set out to do and you made a very tasty dessert.” Jimin clears his throat. “And Jungkook, your éclair was alright.” “Y/N wins,” Yuna announces with giddy laughter, arms in the air. “Wait.” Jungkook frowns. “What?” “Me?” You point to yourself, starting to laugh. “I won!” “It was a consensus,” Taehyung spits in the midst of giggles. “This is obviously rigged!” Jungkook protests loudly. “Don’t be a sore loser.” Hoseok shouts and the rest ignore his outcry. Yoongi nods in approval. “Congratulations, Y/N.” You put your hand over your heart. “Thank you.” You didn’t plan this — maybe they were sick of Jungkook’s ego too or maybe they just thought it would be hilarious to see his reaction, but whatever the case may be, you’re glad that they have your back. You lean over to your boyfriend, giving a brief peck on his pouting lips. “This is so rigged,” he mutters, less upset after your kiss. You smile at him and quirk your head to the side. “Life’s rigged, sweetheart. But tell me, how does it feel to be in a relationship with the best chocolatier on Earth?” Jungkook scoffs, a grin spreads into his face. // Informal baking competitions are all fun and games, but it’s not so much at the end when there’s a mountain of dishes to wash in the sink and a whole kitchen to clean. The others have long left after satisfying their sweet tooths, so you and Jungkook have been hard at work yet again. But in the midst of wiping down the counters, your eyes stray to Jungkook’s pastries. He’s stepped out for a moment, so you take the opportunity swiftly by its throat. You lurch across the floor and grab an éclair to eat. But as you’re stuffing your face as fast as you can while relishing in the deliciousness, you don’t notice the man creeping up on you. “Having those seconds, huh?” You’re scared shitless, jolting, and you whirl around to see Jungkook with his shit eating grin that just screams ‘I knew it’. You’ve been caught in the act. There’s no denying it now. All you can do is swallow your mouthful. “So you liked it that much? You should’ve just admitted it from the start, Y/N. You know I can read you like an open book—” You grab Jungkook by the back of his neck and pull him in for a smothering kiss, just to shut him up. It’s a slow kiss, one where he cleans the cream off your lips and tastes the sugar on your tongue. It’s ambiguous who the real winner is. When you pull apart, you know you both feel like it. “Happy?” Jungkook laughs, nose scrunched and eyes crinkled. “Very.”

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook series #MORE FLUFF INCOMING

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real-jaune-isms · 4 years

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RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 2 Review/Rundown

I feel like this about sums up the general reaction after this week. So let’s dive into how it got out of hand so fast.

We open, a little surprisingly, on a shot we saw at the end of last Volume: Qrow looking at Clover’s bloody badge in his hand. We hear Robyn ranting and raving at someone about how this situation is all their fault, how all she wanted was to bring people together. She’s pacing in her cell, and at first you worry she’s turned on Qrow and hates him for fighting Clover and getting them both arrested, but no. She’s berating Jacques, and thank god someone is. He quotes his daughter in Volume 1 and claims he is a victim, but it was more endearing and memorable coming from the Ice Queen. He continues to assert his innocence, saying Watts used him and his power for diabolical purposes. Sure, he is guilty of many things, but he should not be held responsible for this. And at least his charges don’t include murder. That gets Qrow’s attention, since it was of course a dig at him. That quells Robyn’s fury rather quickly, and she does defend Qrow’s innocence. But she hops right back on the flame train and (while wonderfully insulting his mustache) says she’s not about to agree with the words of an accomplice to Watts’ sins against Mantle. Sure enough, the man of the hour is also in an adjacent cell, and he’s resigned himself to being stuck here like the rest of them. We get a look at where exactly “here” is, a 2 by 2 grid of square cells whose walls are Hard Light Dust shields. It’s a room that’s otherwise rather empty, and the Dust walls seem to be the only source of light. A very makeshift appearance, all things considered, and I worry about Watts being in a cell surrounded by Dust tech he might be able to manipulate. Then again, they took his rings, but he’s got to be pretty resourceful. Meanwhile, Jacques has all the confidence of a spoiled rich brat put behind bars for a misdemeanor. He’s quite sure Whitley will be rushing to get the family’s legal team on the case, and he’ll be out within... well we don’t know exactly how short he thinks his incarceration will last because Robyn gets pissed and punches the wall dividing them. That shuts him up rather well. And really, Jacques-ass? You’re putting your faith in a teenager to help overturn alleged war crimes? What an out of touch prick.

All four of them are shaken from their particular trains of thought by an alarm buzzing and the door opening. Three guards file in, disengage one of the walls of Watts’ cell, and go inside to smack him with the muzzle of a gun and drag his ass outta there. Jacques cringes at the sight of such sudden violence, and Robyn looks momentarily surprised before seeming to accept this. Guess she didn’t expect Ironwood to be so ruthless so soon. She sits back on her bed, which looks like its just a hard slab, and laments being unable to do anything. But Qrow says there is something they can do: kill the man who put them here. To paraphrase Agent Washington, that has got to be the worst plan ever. Of all time. You’re already in jail on murder charges, and now you want to actually cross the line and kill THE LEADER OF A KINGDOM?!?!?! I realize that Ironwood has gone of the deep end and needs to be stopped, but this is not the way to do it. This will only lead to failure, I’m sure of it.

Meanwhile, we cut down to an Atlas news reporter doing a story in Mantle. He’s doing his thing, talking about the unprecedented Grimm hordes and Ironwood not doing anything about it yet. But just as he’s going on about the dedication of his station, the Atlas Eye, Joanna comes up and swipes his microphone to deliver her own message to the people. She tells it like it is, saying that the Happy Huntresses are here to offer aid when Ironwood will not, and spreading the word for people to gather what supplies they can and head for the crater. We see one of the kids from Jaune’s crosswalk scene, and thank goodness his mom is still alive. Joanna talks about all of Mantle coming together to hold the line against the coming Grimm, otherwise the storm at their gates will sweep in to wipe them all out. Yang’s group get into Pietro’s pharmacy, and open the door to the backroom to discover something that makes them very happy. As we saw from the promo clip several months ago, it’s three hoverbikes which we then see them riding through the streets. Yang’s a natural at it, driving up a ramp to do a cool flip off a wall much to Oscar’s panic and discomfort as some of her hair gets in his mouth. Jaune and Ren are... adequate by comparison. Noticing the purple glow of what I presume is Gravity Dust propelling them and allowing the bikes to hover, I wouldn’t be shocked if Yang gives hers a paintjob to be the new Bumblebee: Now with added shipping material! What’s far less pleasant to notice is the Grimm squatting like a gargoyle on the bridge they drive under. We see this thing on the rooftops in a few more shots and then... whooo boy. But we will get there. For now, the biker gang finds more people to protect and help on the journey through town to the crater. One of the Real Thirsty Moms has armed herself with a snow shovel and isn’t totally sure if the crater will be a safe place, but Yang puts on her bravest face to reassure her... just before the screams of people being chased by Grimm get her attention. It’s only two Sabyrs, and Jaune stops their progress by throwing a Hard Light shield spawning grenade that we can assume was with the stash of new gear earlier. Ren drops down to stab both Grimm to death and kicks the quickly deactivating grenade back to Jaune who uses the Gravity in his shield to draw it to him. Very handy with all the tools, bud. Oscar is worried the Grimm Salem has brought with her have already gotten this far into the city, but Yang rationalizes they’re stragglers from the big attack last night. Cuz yeah, we’re still only 12 hours or so removed from the climactic latter half of Volume 7. She doesn’t wanna take any chances though, and asks Ren if Jaune can amp his Semblance up so he can mask the whole crowd for the trip. Ever the realist, he gives a less than encouraging answer, but Jaune sees how badly these people need some hope and comfort. So he makes it into a reassuring promise that the trip will be totally safe and Grimm free. Good job, man. But in every crowd of people, there’s always... a Karen. In this case it’s a grandma who doesn’t want to go stay in the slums among the “animals”, she wants to go to Atlas dammit. But Yang has been waiting to berate someone after the morally grey argument with Ruby last episode, so she takes full advantage of this. This lady might want to be in Atlas, but it’s become clear that Atlas doesn’t want her or any of the other people in Mantle, whereas the Faunus in the crater are showing more kindness than she deserves and giving her a warm place to stay amid all these Grimm. That shuts her up quick, and her daughter (one of the Real Thirsty Moms!) nervously butts in to say that yeah, they’ll accept the offer and she’ll go get their stuff now. We fade to seeing the greyed out crowd walking down the street with Yang giving frontal support, Ren riding on Jaune’s bike in the midst of the crowd to mask outwards in a radius, and Oscar guarding the rear. Grandma Karen is still whining about having to go to the crater, but her daughter is trying to get her to pipe down.

Oscar laments how hard it’s been to get folks to cooperate, with Ozpin chiming in to say he’s preaching to the choir on this one, and that he’s becoming increasingly concerned about that challenge. Oscar grumbles about the unencouraging internal peanut gallery, and Oz gets right to the point. The teens all have every right to be mad at him for dipping on them in Mistral, none more so than Oscar himself, but that’s not what Oscar’s beef is about. He’s mad that he gave him false hope, that in the time Oz was gone Oscar was able to really start coming into his own as a fighter and a member of the team. But now he’s back and Oscar will go back to just being the vessel for the guy everyone really cares about. Oz acknowledges and validates that, but admits that he was never really gone at all so... the merging is still going. Oscar is gaining deep memories and what magic Oz has left, so it’s closer than ever. Neither of them want this to happen, but what can they do? Further up, Ren’s cloaking flickers for a second and Jaune checks on him. He’ll be fine, he’s just got a lot to focus on. Jaune tries to give him a pep talk, but silence is more needed here and Ren is a little snippy in saying so. Jaune seems pretty bummed that Ren is in such a state, but I can’t really say he’s mad at him. More upset with himself and his leadership. One member of his team left to do something else, and the other is in a mental funk he has no clear idea how to help him out of. That’d bum anyone out. Let’s talk about Ren for a moment, actually. I think part of the reason his semblance is working at less than 100% is the same reason he’s pissy with Jaune. He has too many emotions bottled up and he’s trying to ignore them for the sake of staying neutral and calm to be at his best. But if you force yourself to always be neutral, it becomes that much harder to shift into the zen needed for this power. He needs to let himself have emotional highs and lows so he can transition naturally into the middle ground. In other words, TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS, BUDDY!!! It’s also been theorized that his semblance can work for more than just neutrality and he might be projecting his inner turmoil onto the crowd. But that’s yet to be proven. Oz appropriately closes out the scene by saying that they ALL need to figure out a way to work together, but something tells me that’s not coming for another 8 episodes at least.

Changing locales, we see Penny outside of a building with a puffing smokestack on the edge of the city. Turning around, we see where the city of Mantle ends and the slums of the crater begin, and how many people are making there way down from one to the other. But quickly look back, as Blake has just cut off the lock on the chain link gate to the building and May is leading our girl squad inside. That’s right, the one and only May Marigold is coming along on this mission so we get a chance to see her really show her stuff! Nora is grateful for the assist, but May assures her this plan would have definitely gotten Robyn’s backing judging by how much she talked about Amity Tower once she was in the know, so she’s all too happy to help get it up and running. And the Happy Huntresses can afford to be sending her for this, since Fiona has the rest of the team helping her out. The reminder that their partners are off doing a separate mission dampens Blake and Nora’s smiles though... Ruby worries about the safety of going into this place, but once inside Weiss gives the rundown. This is a subsidiary of the Schnee Dust Company that specializes in shipping packages of refined Dust from the mines up to various areas of Atlas through pneumatic tubes. And since it’s a small side business, the worker robots have no direct chain of command to Ironwood, just the Schnees. And Weiss’ grand plan for transportation up to the Atlas military base is something Ruby jokingly suggested back in Volume 2... mailing themselves to their destination. You’re becoming more like that dolt every day... and as a White Rose shipper I love it~ Blake takes this opportunity to rain on Weiss’ confident parade with a dig at the high percentage of buildings in Atlas the Schnee family must own at this rate, and Weiss refuses to comment on how many they actually don’t own. Glad to see Blake being playful like this, shows she’s really comfortable being back with the group again. Everyone spreads out to look for the tube they need, and Penny finds the one for Atlas Academy instead. It reminds her of the confrontations that were had there last Volume, and it clearly still bothers her. Ruby comes over to check on her, and incorrectly assumes Penny’s lamenting about friends fighting is regarding her and Yang. You may be the protagonist, but not everything is about you Ruby. Penny meant Ironwood, Winter, and the Ace Ops, the people Team RWBY had become such fast friends and trusted allies with in Volume 7. The people who are doing and saying such unkind things now, like Ironwood telling her people will die unless she does as she says. Maybe that’s why she’s lingering at this terminal, she’s debating giving herself up to him for the sake of others?

Ruby is having none of this self blaming talk though, and turns Penny around to look her in the eyes as she assures her that no, that isn’t true at all, Ironwood was just saying it to hurt her and make her feel bad enough to come back. Penny admits that she misses the days when she was just the Protector of Mantle, that she now has so much heavy responsibility and duty thrust upon her as the Winter Maiden and she wishes she did not. She was struggling enough to find an identity as a normal girl, now she has a whole other identity to grapple with, it’s all truly unfortunate and sad. Holding her hands in a very similar way to how she did back when she first found out Penny was an android, Ruby assures her that she is still very much the girl she once was. She protected Mantle by taking the Maiden powers so they wouldn’t be misused to hurt the city. This seems to cheer Penny up a bit, and she thanks Ruby for it. The two have another nice hug, before Nora calls out that she’s found the terminal they need. Blake notes that this is the point of no return, and May asserts her confidence that between Penny’s capabilities with the computers they’ll encounter and her own invisibility Semblance they’ve got this in the bag. Penny doesn’t like being referred to as a secret weapon, or a weapon of any kind, but she says nothing about it. For now, let’s praise May for being sassy and cool and doing a cute little curtsy for style. Nora asks the important question of how the heck they’re gonna use this thing, and Weiss goes into tutorial mode again. Just lie back into the tube and hit the launch button, easy enough. Except she was sitting on the edge of the tube for a visual aid and Nora got bored. So ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM goes Weiss up the tube with a frightened screech. Everyone just watches in slack-jawed shock and confusion, but Nora immediately goes giddy at what has just happened and what will soon happen to the rest of them. I can’t imagine what Ruby and Blake must be thinking, not to mention what’s going through May’s mind with this being her first exposure to Nora being... Nora.

But that’s all we get of them for this episode, so Weiss is Schrodinger’s Heiress for the next week. We go to the crater as Joanna heads into a tent where Fiona is hunched over a map coordinating over comms with someone we’ve yet to meet named Crimson. As she finishes the call and whines over how stressful this all is, Joanna drops a small crystal of fire Dust into a sort of furnace and assures her that she’s doing a great job. Fiona absorbs the map into her hand of infinite holding and says Joanna’s big display on the news makes her more qualified for this job. Joanna laughs that off and says it was necessary to spread the word, which seems to be working judging by how many folks are arriving. The group they’re now noticing come in is the one Yang and her squad have just arrived with from Sector 7. The happy lamb does a happy hoppy dance hearing that they’ve already cleared out that sector, and admits her previous doubts that they could manage this much with only half their team. This hits a sore nerve for both Ren and Yang, and the former stomps off while the latter gives a passive aggressive response. They really need to address this soon or it’s all gonna explode in their faces... Oscar wisely changes the subject to ask how they’re managing to house and provide for all these people, and the two Huntresses give a rundown. They’re doing what they can with houses and shelters, and a lot of people are trying to make old mineshafts into someplace livable, and they’ve been looting SDC refineries for Dust to keep everyone warm. Unlike our own society, no one is getting arrested amidst the end of the world. But they substitute that with the terrifying dread of not knowing when the majority of the Grimm will finally attack, what they’re all waiting for. We and the teens know they’re waiting for Salem’s command, for an opening to cause the most damage. And the longer they wait the more the negative emotions build to draw them in. Clever clever, you old witch you. The ominous mood is interrupted by the badger guy from episode 1 running up to inform Fiona that another fight has broken out among the people. He’s voiced by RT founder Gus Sorola, and apparently he’s Fi’s uncle! She seems bummed about having to go break up another fight, but Joanna’s got this one covered. But problems keep coming, and Crimson reports in that there’s a group of Grimm coming in from the east that he can’t handle while transporting civilians. Yang and co are all to ready go get this off Fiona’s plate for her, and we cut to Yang being pursued by a Teryx. We soon see she’s leading it into an ambush, as Ren and Oscar come riding in at an intersection to toss a grenade baton beneath it which presumably contains air/wind Dust because it gets propelled upwards to crash into a bridge and fall back down stunned. Yang gets out of the way and Jaune charges in for the kill. With that job done, Fiona immediately has a new group for them to clear out on the west side. The kids are getting real tired of this constant rushing around killing Grimm, but its part of the job they made such a fuss about going to do so they gotta do it. Oscar points out what I mentioned before, the negativity from everyone worrying when Salem will strike is luring in the stragglers amongst the Grimm. Speaking of stragglers, three Sabyrs come charging up the street much to Ren’s annoyance. But before they can make contact, something gets their attention and they turn tail to run. This puzzles and concerns the team, since Grimm have never retreated before. Before they can finish asking themselves what the Grimm were running from, they get an answer. A large dog-like Grimm pounces on Oscar and starts mauling him and thrashing his body around. He tries to fight back, kicking at one of its legs, but it is unfazed and keeps hitting him until his aura is gone. We see this thing has no eyes to speak of, but it soon gains apposable hands and hind legs capable of bipedal movement. All the better to carry Oscar away with, and shockingly enough, all the better to hold him in front of it as a human shield when Yang comes charging in to try and save him. She has to swerve and avoid hitting the kid, but gets grabbed by the head and tossed against a wall. Ren is the next to attack, but his bullets do jackshit to its back and his “grapple into the enemy and pull myself at it for a kick” has never worked before and continues to not work now. The Hound, as it is named in the credits and in concept art, stretches out its arm much like the Nuckelavee back in Volume 4 and swats Ren away. Jaune is about to charge in too, but Yang warns him about the Hound’s shield tactic. He’s in disbelief, because they may have seen old Grimm that have gained beastial sentience but never this kind of sapience and creative thinking. Ren grabs his guns but the Hound holds Oscar up again to stop him. Ren, naturally, yells at the Grimm to give their friend back.

But the Hound just stretches its neck with a few cracking sounds, and says “No”.

This leaves the huntsmen and huntresses in a silent stupor of shock and fear, and I would not blame them. If all of my world’s history has been telling me that the monsters I hunt are mindless beasts of violence and destruction, nothing more, that’s one thing. If I learn they were created by a deity solely for the sake of destroying my civilization and are nothing but his avatars of darkness and wreckage, that’s a big theological pill to swallow but I still know how these things always tend to act. If I am on 6 hours of sleep vs 28 hours of being awake, just had a big personal argument over what our job should be amidst the apocalypse, and now my entire understanding of the monsters I at least thought I knew how to handle is thrown out the window?????? Yeah, I would need a goddamn minute before I could think rationally and quickly again. So you’ll excuse me for giving Yang, Jaune and Ren a pass as they just stand there and watch the Hound grow bat-like wings in a very painful and goopy transformation that gets some goo on Oscar’s unconscious face and then climbs up a building with Oscar in its mouth to fly away. When they do recover their senses they hop on their bikes and chase after the beast at full speed, giving a hasty and vague apology to Fiona for having to go handle this emergency that she wouldn’t believe even if they told her. And that’s it, we have to wait a week or longer to find out if they catch this thing and get Oscar back. Judging from the intro, I’d say they won’t and he will be brought before Salem for torture. Fun!~ This definitely opens the door for brand new possibilities of what Grimm are capable of doing or being, and lots of people are theorizing the Hound is so intelligent because Salem stuck a person in there, possibly someone we thought was dead but perhaps isn’t? Who knows, we’ll have to wait and see.

Sorry it’s so late, but hope this is a good review.

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chaos-weekly · 3 years

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The boys had finished fixing (rather, they’d finished watching Ezequiel fix) Tony’s car for the millionth time, and now they sat scattered around the shop with cold beers.

“You need a new car,” Ezequiel said, settling down into the ratty armchair they kept in the corner. Usually, Tony or Shiloh sat here when they came to visit, but Shiloh was gone. And Tony had taken Ezequiel’s desk chair.

“I don’t need a new car,” Tony scoffed, leaning back against Ezequiel’s still-organized desk. There was even a pink sticky note on one of the drawers. That had to be Penny Maine’s handiwork.

“Tony, you need a new car,” Isaac said firmly. Tony scowled over at him.

“I do not.”

“You need a new car,” Ezequiel echoed.

“What’s wrong with my car? Nothing you can’t fix!” Maybe Tony was getting cocky, but he knew the Correas had his back. Just like he had theirs.

“Everything I don’t want to fix,” Ezequiel replied dryly.

“And yet you still fix my car. It’s our thing, Ezequiel.”

“It is not our thing. It is me pitying you and not wanting to deal with you whining about a broken car.”

“I don’t whine,” Tony objected.

“You whine,” Isaac assured.

“Who’s whining?” A new voice entered; Penny Maine was here in her too tall to be reasonable heels (that she still walked in with ease) and a tight, short dress. She smelled a little like tequila, and her hair looked wind blown.

“Tony,” Ezequiel and Isaac said.

Penny Maine paused to think. “I wouldn’t say whine as much as he purposefully annoys.” She glanced around the shop, where all three chairs were taken or otherwise occupied by stuff. How did anyone work in this place? Everything was out of place! If anything had a place to begin with. She’d have to come back here one weekend and reorganize the place for E.

“Close enough,” Ezequiel grumbled. Penny Maine rolled her eyes.

“Oh relax. You know you love him.” She walked towards the emptiest chair. She moved the stuff on it to the desk, but stepped back in a hurry.

“E, scoot over,” she demanded, walking o we to the old armchair where he sat. It was the only chair that could support two people. And she was lucky that E was the person in it. Even if he’d never be interested in her. He wasn’t interested in anyone.

“What’s wrong with that one?” Ezequiel asked, gesturing with his beer to the chair she’d cleared off.

“There’s dirt on it.”

“Wipe it off.”

“I’m wearing a nice dress. No. Now scoot your boot.” Penny Maine placed her hands on her hips until Ezequiel complied. She sat down next to him. Which meant that she really sat down with her legs over one arm and her back against the other, with the middle of her body placed neatly on Ezequiel’s lap. Penny Maine hadn’t planned for this, but she wasn’t gonna hold back. If anyone gave her crap, she’d blame it on the one margarita she’d had.

“So, E, huh?” Isaac asked, amused. Penny Maine nodded over at him.

“No, not E. It’s Ezequiel,” Ezequiel said, but his words were weak. Penny Maine looked over at him, very aware of how close their faces were. And of how nice he smelled. He must have changed into clean clothes after fixing the junker in the shop. Or he’d work an apron or something when fixing stuff under the open hood.

“Okay, E.” Penny Maine grinned at him impishly. She could hear Tony and Isaac snickering, but she had no clue why. So what if she called Ezequiel E? It wasn’t her fault everybody else didn’t want to upset him. But this was her best friend’s older brother. And the guy she’d been crushing on since before senior prom. Penny Maine was scared of no one.

Ezequiel sighed in defeat, and Penny Maine looked over at the other boys. “Shiloh and. I went dancing tonight. But she went home with some hot dude,” she sighed. “So I came here instead.”

“Shiloh went home with someone?” Arjun asked, entering the shop. He took a cold beer from the mini fridge and the empty seat with dirt on it.

“Yeah! A really, really hot guy. He was a really good dancer, too,” Penny Maine noted. She looked to Tony, who had a clenched jaw and narrowed gaze. Somebody didn’t like this information. Time to make it worse.

“She gave me the keys and everything—“

“That’s enough, Penny Maine,” Ezequiel piped up, sounding pained.

“And it’s my cue to go,” Isaac added, shaking his empty beer bottle. “Nice knowing you, Tony.” He sent a playful wink that Penny Maine attributed to E’s inevitable anger for Tony’s feelings. She didn’t get what the fuss was. Tony would never hurt Shiloh. Like, ever. He wasn’t a harmful person.

“Bye, gorgeous! Oh, and Arjun! there’s dirt in the chair. Take Isaac’s so you don’t get dirty!” Penny Maine exclaimed, pointing to the now vacant chair. Arjun obeyed.

“What were you saying about Shiloh and this hot guy?” Arjun asked, smiling deviously. At least somebody was happy to hear about Penny Maine living vicariously through Shiloh!

“Oh! I was saying that he was a really, really great dancer. And hot. Like, he had a whole sleeve of tats and his face was gorgeous and—“

“That’s enough,” Ezequiel said. Well, he whispered it in Penny Maine’s ear. She didn’t have the capacity to control the shiver from his nearness and the intimacy, even if it wasn’t intimate on purpose.

This wasn’t fair. But Penny Maine wouldn’t fight fair if E wouldn’t either.

“Just saying, Shiloh has a really great night ahead of her if that man can move in bed like he can on the d—“

She squealed. Penny Maine squealed, and it was all Ezequiel’s fault. He’d picked her up and moved her!

“Put me down!” she commanded.

“Stop talking about my sister’s love life.”

“No!”

“Fine.” And that was when Penny Maine realized she was now seated on the dirty chair. She squealed again and jumped to her feet.

“Ezequiel!”

“Ooh, full name, he’s in trouble,” Arjun joked. Tony made no response, but he was too busy glaring at the wall until it developed coronavirus. Somebody really didn’t like hearing about Shiloh’s sex life. Even more than E didn’t like it. Or at least for different reasons.

“He is in trouble!” Penny Maine agreed. She glared at Ezequiel, but he stared back with a glint of challenge in his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll stop for now, but Shiloh is clearly going to have a great night.”

“That’s not stopping, Penny Maine,” Ezequiel groaned, head falling back and eyes shutting in frustration. She shrugged and took the opportunity to reclaim her spot in his lap. She was so not sitting in the dirty chair. And Tony was Shiloh’s and Arjun wasn’t her type. E, however, had the bestest tattoos and also he rode a motorcycle but he had that heart of gold and was hardworking and caring and loving and selfless and all those amazing things.

Yeah, Penny Maine had it bad.

“I’m stopped now,” she declared as if it were obvious. Ezequiel groaned again, but at least he wasn’t complaining about her choice of seating. Penny Maine counted that as a win in her book, even if it was a win that meant nothing.

“So, Tony, how does Shiloh having a hook up make you feel?” Arjun asked. Somebody was definitely still in troublemaker mode. Then again, Penny Maine wasn’t sure her friend had any other mode. First the club, now this? Boy had a death wish at the hands of handsome men.

“He has no opinion,” Ezequiel remarked, speaking over whatever Tony was going to try and pass off as the truth. He was clearly upset. His knuckles were white around the neck of his beer bottle. Penny Maine would happily report all of this to Shiloh the next day, once the hangover faded.

“Is that true, Tony?” Arjun countered.

“It’s true,” E said for him, again.

“Oh, hush up,” Penny Maine said, rolling her eyes and looking to glare at Ezequiel. He glared right back. ‘Cept there wasn’t any heat behind his glare. He was cute when he was trying to be upset.

“It’s true,” Tony grumbled. There was plenty of heat in his words. Somebody was a liar. He needed his pants on fire.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Penny Maine sang, totally apathetic that her singing voice was horrendous. She was much better at dancing and fashion than singing. Not that it was hard.

“New topic,” Arjun announced, probably sensing that he’d veered into dangerous territory between his friends. “Why does Penny Maine get to call Ezequiel E but no one else does?”

“I don’t give him a choice,” Penny Maine answered decidedly. “And I’m his favorite of Shiloh’s friends.” She was joking there, but she wished that much was true. But Tony and Shiloh were friends, too, so Tony automatically won there.

Ezequiel, however, made no comment. Penny Maine wondered what that meant.

“Interesting,” Arjun mused, stroking his chin. “Very interesting indeed. I think E here has a cr—“

“I’m going home and so are all of you,” Ezequiel interrupted. He patted Penny Maine’s waist, and she got up off his lap. Sadly. She liked sitting there. He was nice and warm. And he smelled really good, somehow. Probably since he hadn’t been at the shop all day.

“Good idea. But someone needs to drop me off ‘cause I have Shi’s car and I’m not crashing at her place if there’s a hot guy there.”

Ezequiel groaned, but only at the mention of Shiloh’s sex life.

“Well, I’m taking Tony home, since his car sucks,” Arjun announced. “Guess that means E over here will take you.”

“It’s Ezequiel,” he snapped at Arjun. Penny Maine giggled. She really was the only one who got to use a nickname for him. That was cute. E was cute.

“So can you give me a ride home?” Penny Maine asked, looking up to him with wide eyes. There was an almost smile on his face when he nodded.

“Yes, but I took my bike here.” Penny Maine squealed, jumping up in excitement and landing neatly, despite her too tall heels. She loved motorcycles! They were so cool. And Ezequiel had an extra cool one. She didn’t know anything about make or model, but his definitely looked cool.

“Perfect. Thank you, E.”

Maybe the night had a bad forecast starting out, but it had a happy ending, and that made everything okay.

#chaos weekly #pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere

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decadentenemyturtle · 4 years

Text

Take a change!

Summary: What is breavery for Dwalin? Taking head on hundreds and hundreds of orcs, protecting his king, kin and friends. Aye, no problem. Or, how about asking your One on a date and to court her? Yeah. Sure. NOPE!

Pairing: Dwalin x OC (Ella)

Words: 1,331

Warnings: Fluff, if ye concider that as a worning. Bad writing of mine. Typo’s.

Author’s note: This is my first fanfic of my “Give me two character’s and I’ll choce which one I’d rather date” , the challege found in here.

Dwalin, son of Fundin, brother of Balin, soon-to-be Lord of Moria, and best friend of Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. Dwalin was a dwarf who was named as a greatest warrior of his time, head of the king's bodyguard's and a captain of the king's army, who was known of his breavery and many things he had done, even before reclaiming the Lonely Mountainh alongside with his king and best friend. There were written many stories and sung many songs of his adventures and breavery long before the company of Thorin Oakenshield reclaimed the Lonely Mountain, and even more so after the cursed Mountain had been reclaimed.

All and all, Dwalin was brave, smart (even if many didn't believe it), calm and strong dwarf. He knew it. Thorin knew it. Balin knew it. Ella knew it. The whole company knew it. Mahal, ANYONE who knew Dwalin also knew how brave he was.

Now, however, many questioned of his breavery. Even Dwalin himself.

And mainly because he didn't dare to ask to court his One.

"She has had many dwarves and men from Dale 'n Esgaroth asking 'er hand for courting, even for a marriage" Bofur said simply, sitting on a bench as lazily as he could, pipe on his other hand. Next to him was sitting his cousin, Bifur, nodding seriously, agreeing with his cousin.

"Aye, just yeste'day I had tae chase some rathe' too keen suitor on 'is way, even when miss Ella clearly said that she did not want tae court 'im" Ori sighed. Dwalin looked at the young dwarf and wanted to clap his back. The young scrible had gotten so much breaver over the four year they had lived in Erebor. And then the sinking feeling set back on his heart again, because he realized that even this sweet, young Ori had mustered up his courage to ask his One, Casver, to a courtship. Their wedding was going to be in August, only few months away.

"I 'eard that there's an elf, who had been taken an intrest in Ella. It's not likely that he'd ask to court - and mainly because she's not af elf, but ya never know" Kíli said, setting his full tankard on the table. When the prince had sat down, he threw an look to Dwalin. And Dwalin felt the anger and panic rice. Because he knew that Kíli would know of these things - whatever they were rumours or not - because of his courtship with that Tauriel, who in turn would hear the rumor's and all from her kingdom from her friend's.

"What are ye so afraid of, old friend? Ye know ye have nothing tae lose if ye just ask her" Gloin asked. Dwalin looked down at his tankard and sighed. What he had to lose? Everything. His love for Ella, his heart, his life, his dreams including her. But then again, if she said yes, wouldn't his life be better? Wouldn't he be happy? And, he would be with the one he loved. Wasn't that what he dreamed of? Ori and Gloin both glaimed that their life was better after they started to court their One. So, drinking the tankard empty and slamming it to the table, Dwalin stood up and left the tavern.

"She should still be in the library!" Ori shouted after him. However did the lad even know, where he was going? Dwalin wondered.

Dwalin found her from the library, just like Ori had told him. She sat over her workdesk and wrote something down on the perchment. As Dwalin walked closer, ever so slowly, he felt his heart leap to his throat and then drop to his stomach. He felt his palms sweat and he wanted to throw up. Mahal, he couldn't do this!

And just then, when Dwalin thought about turnin and leaving, Ella's eyes rose from the perchment to meet his grey ones. And the world seemed to stop. For a second she looked surprised and then she smiled, and her green eyes seemed to lit up in the candle's light.

"Dwalin! How long have you been there? I didn't hear you come in" she said, smiling. Dwalin let out a long and tortued sigh, and walked nearer the desk, still leaving full meter between himself and Ella. "Please don't say that Ori or Balin send you. Because I SWEAR I'm almost done with this" she kept on talking, nodding towards the table, when Dwalin found himself unable to open his mouth and speak. When her eyes turned back to Dwalin from the perchment, Dwalin mustered to smile her a little and shake his head.

"Nae, lass, that's not why am here, although Ori gave me an hint where ye might be" he managed to answer. Ella's brow rose and she let out a little 'Oh' before she set her pen down.

"Sooo, you.... were looking for me?" She asked. When Dwalin nodded, she turned fully on him to, turning a little nervous, Dwalin noted. And suddenly it was hard to talk, again. On the way here Dwalin had played few scenario's over his head, how this all would go on, what he should say and how he should say it, how Ella would possibly react and what she would possibly do and say. But now he found out that he couldn't say any of those things he had concidered saying. When he had stayed quiet for far too long, Ella tilted her head slightly and looked even more cocnerned than before. And Dwalin didn't like it. This all was going wrong.

"Is everything alright? Has... someone died, or...?" Ella asked carefully, her worried eyes studying Dwalin feature's. And now Dwalin knew he had already fucked up. Quickly he shook his head and tried then explain how he needed to tell her something. But when he still strugled to tell her the words he needed to, Ella rose from the chair and took the few steps to stand in front of him. And when she took his hand in hers, Dwalin could feel his brains turning off completly, even more so when he could smell the fainth honey and ginger from her. And, then, well... Things just kind of happened.... Because Dwalin didn't want Ella to think that something bad had happened and he wanted her to knwo how he felt and everything got mixed up in his brains and....

".... Would ye concider of marrying me?" he asked, not realising rightaway that he had asked the wrong question, and when he did, his face fell and started to turn red. And when he saw the surprised look on Ella's face, he felt his heart sink. She would say no. He looked down, not bearing to look at her beautiful face. And then, after a few quiet moment, she chuckled. She found this amusing, and would say no. That was the last nail to the coffin, Dwalin tought. He had fucked things up, because he couldn't think straight or speak normally, and now he felt his heart break and he would have to leave form Erebor because he couldn't looke at Ella anymore without thinking of his stubidity and he really wanted to cr...

Dwalin's train of thought was stopped by a kiss on his cheek. He lifted his suddenly misty eyes to meet Ella's green ones. She was smiling, and even blushing.

"Me thinks that... before a marriage we should court first, aye?" she asked and Dwalin felt a little light of hope arise in his chest.

"Aye" he answered. At this, Ella looked down shyly and after she had taken a deep breath, she looked back up with a small smile.

"So, would you concider courting me first and asking me to marry you a little later on?" she asked, her cheeks turning more pink. And for a first time, maybe ever, Dwalin claimed to knew what happines was.

"Aye, love, aye. I'd like that" Dwalin answered, then pressing his forehead against Ella's.

#the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #dwalin #dwalin x original character

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kaz3313 · 5 years

Text

Crowley is a totally very bad demon who does very demonish things. Like take care of a bunch of orphans

Inspired by one of @rainydaydecaf s text post! I wrote this in a day

Also thank you @thetimtimjr for tagging me in the post that inspired this!

( I have only seen to episode 3 so no spoilers in the tags or replies please! Thank you)

Tw: though this is mostly fluffy comedy stuff there is a sucide attempt (unsuccessfully). Also if anyone needs this tagged as anything feel free to ask as always!

(Please reblog and hope you enjoy 😊)

"Misstah Crowley are we there yet?" One of the children tugs at the demons clothes.

"I already told you; were not going anywhere. Were waiting for the storm to pass," he gently pushes the child away but he comes back to his side.

"When is the storm gonna pass then? Can it be now?"

"I don't know kid, now butt off before you're tossed into the sea," Crowley growls. At first a face of horror passes over the kid but it quickly leaves as another child pipes up.

"He won't throw you overboard, Asher, nothing to worry about," She's older than the other but no more than 14.

"I can-" Crowley begins but stops hearing one of the many infants start crying.It took him two hours to rock them all to sleep. "Oh look what you did. Now they all will wake up,". He is right as babies wake up one after another crying in confusion or empathy, as it is rather hard to tell which is which at such a young age, and Crowley desperately tries to calm down each while simultaneously answering the older children's questions.

"So whose ship is this?" A girl in rags asks, he'll have to have Aziraphale miracle her some better clothes later.

"Noah's Arch," he whispers rocking two wailing infants, twins actually.

"Is he a friend of yours?" A boy who looks as well off as she did pipes up.

"Ehhh, I met him once or twice," the meetings Crowley is referring too is when he passed the man by while tempting other people to acts of evil in his town.

"Is they're another arch?" The girl asks. A group of children has formed around some of them helping with the babies or toddlers but others just to listen to what he has to say. Odd to say the least; Crowly has definitely spoke to groups of people at a time, and many listened with such interest, but not often answer earnest questions. Much less earnest questions he's answering truthfully.

"No, no other arch," the one twin started fussing again. "Shut up," he says to the baby but instead of a harsh tone his voice is sing songish.

"Then where are all the parents at?"

"Alright enough questions, I didn't bring you on here to annoy me," Crowley hisses and more of the little ones wake up crying. Great, more to deal with.

"I'm bored,"

"I'm hungry,"

"Alright! Alright! Go-" He looks around. He could always have them mess with the animals but they could get eaten by a lion as well as get caught by Noah. No, keeping them down here is a necessity but he couldn't constantly entertain them. Then Aziraphale catches his eye. He's in the corner reading various books and scrolls he brought with him on the arch. How he could bring those instead of children Crowley will never understand (and quite frankly even though he wished to confront him about it he also didn't want to hear about the 'ineffable' or have him get fussier than the babies and run away for a century). "You see Aziraphale- Yeah, go bother him. He'll read you stories," Many of the children rushed toward the unsuspecting angel and the ones who remained Crowley could manage.

"Cr-crowley?" It is late at night, despite not needing to sleep both demon and angel are exhausted, and he doesn't expect one of the children to wake so soon. Of course he doesn't really know what to expect with kids.

"Yes," Crowley responds.Being a demon, he can see in the dark and her expression of fear is clear. "What are you doing up? It's bad enough I have to feed those little things every hour do I have to do that with you?" At that she gives a small smile.

"No, nothing like that. I just had a scary dream is all,"

"Ah, those happen," Crowley has put nightmares in many a mind before, mostly to sway them, but never in a child's.

"It was about the arch flooding cause there were too many people. It sunk to the bottom of the sea and the fish ate everyone's bones," she states her eyes wide as she recalls the fake memory.

"Morbid," Crowley replies biting his lip not sure how to comfort the child. "Arch is really sturdy though. The instructions to build this thing came straight from God so if it sinks that's on heavens hands,".

"It sank cause we're not supposed to be on here. We aren't are we?" Her voice cracks and tears start to roll down her cheeks.

"Now don't- come on sit here," he taps the place beside him and she follows his instructions. "Everything is uh, complicated to say the least. Whether you're supposed to be here or not depends on which side your looking on it from. But one thing, and the most important thing, is I wouldn't bring you on here for nothing. Like do you think I want to babysit for who knows how long while the storm of the century is outside if I didn't think it was necessary?"

"N-no, " she gives another shy smile and wipes her tears with the back of her hand. "I guess not,"

"Exactly, your obviously a smart kid. If I wasn't absolutely positive this stupid boat was going to hold I wouldn't have even tried," he says and she wraps her arms around in a hug. He pats her back not sure how else to respond.

"Thank you Mr. Crowley, that'll make my nightmares go away for sure! You're a saint!" She says chipperly and before he can correct her she skips off to bed.

"You're so very evil Crowley. What an evil deed reassuring a child," Azriphale says with a grin of his own.

"And how long have you been here? I thought you were taking to Noah and his "holy" family. Never mind, bug off angel. I'm always evil and saving this brats is against the divine plan so its evil," he reasons and the other just shakes his head reading yet again.

Feeding the kids is Crowley's least favorite parts (he had to do it at least three times! Not even Aziraphale ate that much) of the day. They were all whiny like usual only this time is 10 million times worse since they whined about not having enough food despite Crowley giving them as much as they could possibly need.

"She got more then me!" One kid yells pointing at a teen girl.

"Do you want more?" Crowley asks grabbing a piece of bread to give to him.

"Well, no but it's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair and actually this is a very small part of your life that will be fair so deal with it," Crowley snaps and the kid begins to cry. "Damn- Aziraphale!" He calls but sees the angel with his hands full as well as a toddler climbing him. He wouldn't be able to comfort the kid for a while.

"Kid, kid, listen. This is ridiculous. Just stop crying, you're fine. You're well fed and you aren't hurt and-" Crowley leans down but the kid continues to wail.

"I need to pee," A little girl says in his ear.

"Good to know," Crowley responds.

"I need to go now!" She yells and Crowley tilts his head away from her.

"Then go; you don't need my expertise you've done it plenty of times before," she whines again, kicks his shin, and walks away.

"Timothy is hungry," a teen hands him a baby while she calms down the still crying child.

"Does, Tim Tim need food? Hmmm, little pile of squishy flesh is hungry," Crowley asks reaching for the bottle of never ending milk. The baby cooks in response then hastily drinks the milk most of it going down his chin. "What a messy Tim Tim," he states as the baby sucks the milk down as if it's the last he'll ever have. He takes out a handkerchief cleaning up the giddy baby. "Out of everyone you've got to be the happiest baby. Did you know that? Did you know that, Tim Tim," At saying this Crowley heard a voice call his name and he looks up. Azriphale just mouths the words 'what a demonic demon Crowley is'.

"I'm the scariest demon in hell," Crowley tells the kids and most of them laugh excitedly.

"R-roar then! If your a demon roar like one!" A kid calls out.

"Roar? I'm a demon not a lion! I don't roar," he states.

"How do we know your a demon then? I think your just a weird kind man!" Another kid states.

"A man couldn't all bring us on an arch with plenty of food and drink. Nobody is that kind" A kid scolds the other " Mr. Crowley is just an embarrassed angel,"

"I'm not an angel!" But many kids already are murmuring in agreement of the severely misinformed kid. The actual angle in the room gives a small chuckle "I can turn into a snake; the one that tempted Adam and Eve!" Crowley states.

"Do it then! Snake! Snake!" The kids begin chanting the word. Crowley sighs closing his eyes and starts to form into the cold blooded creature.

"H-he a snake!" Most kids laugh in glee only a few run to Azriphale in fear. Crowley can hear a kid concerned that "Mr. Crowley got eaten by a snake". The angel is sure to reassure that Mr. Crowley did not get eaten by a snake instead he can turn into a snake. The younger ones don't exactly understand the concept and are happy to see Crowley in his usual form again.

"Only saving kids and teens huh? What about those who were on the edge of things?" An older teen guy asks while the kids eat there bread and listen to one of the other teen's stories. Besides Azriphale the charismatic storyteller has been the most help especially since in the past she had to take care of ten kids. She definitely is the most experienced.

"Not sure what you mean on the edge," Crowley replies sipping a bit of his wine.

"The day the storm came in, the same day you found me at the market, was my sister's 18 birthday," he states. Crowley doesn't say a word feeling the air thick with tension. "We were twins but my birthday was the next day...she wasn't brought here, was she?"

"...no," The teen, or rather the adult (though he still looked like a boy of maybe 16 at the most) stands up.

"Everyone is gone? My family, friends, mentors? My house, destroyed?" He asks but doesn't expect an answer. Instead he walks away, starting to go up to the deck.

"Aziraphale, one of the humans left," Crowley walks over saying in a hushed voice.

"Left?" Aziraphale questions.

"He went into the storm; seems really upset. Just check on him to make sure he doesn't get caught. I have babies to feed in a little bit so I'm asking you. And… I think you might be able to convince him to come down here," Crowley explains.

"Well alright but you owe me a lunch for this," Crowley rolls his eyes but nods agreeing to the favor.

Azriphale found the man getting pelted by rain while he stood on the edge of the ship. He didn't turn around yet he spoke at hearing the angel's footsteps.

"The world from end to end is empty and void of life. Completely wiped out except for this ship here. This ship that has a family, animals, and then about a hundred stow-away children," He says his voice monotone. Azriphale doesn't explain that many places were spared; it doesn't feel right to correct the distraught human."Do you know how many people were out there? I don't even know. But surely all those people didn't deserve death? They didn't deserve to be pushed into this raging sea and drowned when they're body tires of the condition. If God wants us dead couldn't we just be strikes down by a bolt of lightning? Why make us suffer?"

"The plan of the almighty is ineffable; even to me," Azriphale says then adds "But, against many odds, you're alive! So let's go back inside before your clothes get wetter," the human lets out a sad chuckle.

"And after? Once this passes I have no one. I'm alone in this world...God wants me dead? Was that part of the plan?"

"Well, a little bit but something plans go differently then expected especially with demonic intervention and-" Azriphale stops as he sees the human toss himself forward.

The angel's wings jut out and he swoops down to catch the spiraling human. It's an experience that sadly Azriphale has done many times. In total he's saved 1200 humans in the last century who've tried to end their life. Sometimes by spilling their poisonous drink or whispering encouraging words in their ears but only four in total has he caught. This man will most definitely be his fifth.

He reaches him grabbing on and pulling him upward. A moment later and the human would've plunged head first in the icy sea and if not killed by it would at the very least got a concussion.

"Now, now, it is not your time," Azriphale has his arms around the other's chest and can feel him shivering from the winds whipping around them. He positions his wings to shield the fragile being from the strongest winds.

"Apparently my time is past due; God wants me dead I'm just giving him his dues," He struggles in Azriphale's grasp but his grip doesn't loosen.

"Don't talk like that, let's dry you off and-"

"My sister would take care of the neighborhood kids. She'd feed them, she raised me and my brothers since she was ten. She taught us manners and we'd attended church every Sunday. We pray before every meal and even after. She stole from a man richer than a king with manners akin to a pig! That is her only crime and yet she's under many feet of unmerciful water dead to this cruel world! Was that fair? Should she have died, angel?" He yells out struggling against the other.

The man-no he really is just a boy- kicks with such force that Azriphale is forced to use a miracle. He falls asleep instantly no more shouting or protesting follows. He looks so peaceful sleeping, most humans do, and the angel frowns to himself. He'd awake just as agitated as before, perhaps even more, and could potentially try to commit suicide again.

Azriphale clicks his tongue thinking of a way to stop this humans distress. He said something about a sister did he not well...another miracle is performed; this time erasing all memories of her. It definitely wasn't his best miracle but couldn't be called his worst either.

"I'm so sorry," Azriphale mumbles out but over the roaring sea no one can hear him.

"You have wings? Does Mr. Crowley have some too?" A curious child asks touching Azriphale's feathers. A toddler to his right has decided the feathers are an excellent teething device and is trying to desperately get him off.

"Yes I do," Crowley says picking up the toddler presenting him a finger instead of the feathers he could choke on.

"Can we see?" Another asks walking over to him staring at his shoulders as if she could already see them.

"Maybe," He replies. "If you all are good for dinner and go to bed on time you can see them," Cheers follow Crowley's statement.

The baby babbles at Crowely and since no one else is around he babbles back at her. She giggles continuing 'talking' to him.

"I hear you; pretty cramped place huh? But right now you have to go to sleep; can you go to sleep?" The baby happily replies with nonsense. She's the last baby awake but it quite a stubborn one.

"Go to sleep, little talker and maybe for once I'll get a break," he sings a tuneless soft lullaby. "And with my break, I'll get to bother, Azriphale! And he'll just read his books, or eat his food, and ignore me, because he is gooooood,".

The baby closes her eyes but Crowley continues his made up song "Go to sleep, little babe, and hope we'll get off this ship that's driving me insane," he finishes with a few la la's and the baby is fast asleep.

"Papa?" A small toddler walks running into Crowley head on. He steps back before falling on his butt "Papa?" He asks again.

"Nope, not a Papa," Crowley says patting the confused child head. "Just a demon doing bad,"

"Papa!" He exclaims and Crowley sighs.

"Nope. Very disappointed you didn't get it the first time,"

"Papa!"

"Now this is a little excessive don't you think? How many times do I need to say no?" Crowley asks putting his hands on his hips. He might as well humor the toddler.

"Pa-pa! Papa! Papa!" He claps his hands.

"Can your Papa turn into a snake?" The boy nods. "Really? I doubt that. Can he strike fear into anything and everything?" Again he nods. "Is your dad a demon? If so I might know him,"

"Papa!" He claps again.

"Is your Papa's name Crowely?"

"Yes!"

"I don't think so," but the child giggles in response.

"What a good parent you make Crowley," Azriphale states grinning (and dare Crowley say the smile is devilish?).

"Papa!" The toddler exclaims to Azriphale and he goes bright red.

"It seems the little one doesn't have a big vocabulary,"

"So that's what it is angel?" Crowley gives his own grin. He nods in response.

Six days pass before the rain stops and the sun comes out; and just as Azriphale says a rainbow appears promising to never flood the world again.

Crowley can be thankful for that. He isn't sure he can take care of hundreds of kids again. Though with all the hugs they give him he can't complain too much.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #tw: sucide #sucide #sucide attempt #my writing #inspired by #long fic #long post #first time writing Good Omens!

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tenecity · 6 years

Text

from haters to lovers: fan chengcheng

cr:https://weheartit.com/entry/197009922

from haters to lovers—a series where nine percent and you have the cliche, typical love story

[AT THE START]

When you entered Yuehua, you had no idea what to expect. I mean, it was just so sudden. One day, you’re on the streets busking, the next you receive an email saying that Yuehua wants to cast you and you have to go for an audition. You had no idea what to expect, but your talent exceeds anyone’s expectations, including yourself.

“Hi! We are Yuehua boy trainees.” A whole line of boys (who are all at least a head taller than you besides Bi Wenjun of course, who is two heads taller than you) bow as their leader, who you come to know as Zhengting, greets you.

“Er, yes, nice to meet you too.” You smile politely back, a little apprehensive and self conscious. You didn’t put on any makeup because you didn’t think it was necessary. But now that you’re facing seven madly handsome boys, you wish you weren’t so lazy and had at least put on some concealer.

Although you’re the well known “ice cold queen”, the boys’ lively spirits and warm heartedness got you melted and you soon became great friends with all of them. Except for one person of course. Fan Chengcheng.

You just didn’t like him. From the very start, you didn’t like his cold ass bitch face, number 1.

Number 2, you soon found out that he was Fan Bingbing’s brother. The Fan Bingbing. Nation’s hailed queen. You felt even more cautious around him.

Number 3, you think its a complete waste of resources that he decided to come out here and train to become a singer. Like, he is rich, he has money, he has resources. Why doesn’t he use that to go to good schools, or go overseas to study, or maybe even start some business and earn even more money? Maybe you’re jealous, but so what? It’s true, isn’t it, that it’s such a waste that he, who has the resources, who has the opportunities to go to places like Harvard and Cambridge, threw all those possible educations away. And for what? To become a singer? That might not even be famous? You shake your head at that thought. Ridiculous.

So you didn’t like Fan Chengcheng.

Neither did Chengcheng like you. He hated how cold you were at first; and he hated how flirtatious you were it’s not your fault you’re a scorpio. You were always teasing Justin, trying out pick up lines with Wenjun, couple dancing with Zeren, goofing around with Xinchun, playing with Quanzhe’s cheeks and play-hitting Zhengting. It was as though you would purposely spend time with them and Chengcheng doesn’t fail to see how you would always use your puppy eyes and fluttering lashes to persuade the boys into doing things your way, and they almost, always gave way to you, despite Chengcheng’s constant protests.

It’s almost as if you are taking them away from him. And Chengcheng hated it.

Just the other day, he had asked Justin if he wanted to go out and watch a movie. Justin didn’t even hesitate; he turned it down at once, and said “Y/n’s going to play games with me tonight. MARIO CART! Sorry bro, maybe next time.” and then he had walked away, slinging an arm around your shoulder. Chengcheng didn’t miss the smirk you had on your face, and he boiled inside.

“Why do you guys like her so much?????? Come on, she is a whole, full package of b-i-t-c-h. And hello? Does she not have other friends? Why does she always have to come to our practice room to hang out with yall? And guys,” Chengcheng almost pleads. “Stop giving in to her puppy eyes and flirty acts! I mean, I get it, it looks cute bu-”

“What?!” The six other boys stare back at Chengcheng.

“What?” he says back indignantly.

“Did you just call y/n cute?”

“No I did not!” The rising heat of his cheeks however, weren’t very convincing.

“I meant, that you guys find it cute and always give in to her! YOU NEED TO LOOK PAST THAT BITCH’S TACTICS!”

“A. WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE FAN CHENGCHENG!” Zhengting reprimands.

“B, why do you guys hate each other so much? It’s not like she has done anything to you.”

Chengcheng mentally slaps Zhengting. But of course Zhengting would say that. He thinks you’re an absolute angel; he doesn’t see the glares and smirks you send Chengcheng’s way, or the winks and teasing grins you give him when the boys give in to you and he’s groaning because he has no choice but to follow.

[SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN]

Winter comes around and it is as bitter as ever. Almost as bitter as your relationship with Chengcheng. You still hate each other to the guts; but now you rarely confront him or interact with him as trainings become more intense and you just don’t have the time to deal with his idiotic ass. Which also means, you don’t have the time to go and hang out with the Yuehua boys. So when the management announces to all the trainees that they are going to have a retreat for all them, you squeal in delight because it definitely means more! time! with! them!

The journey to one of the most secluded nature reserves in Beijing is a long one and there is a coffee break in between. Stretching your arms over your head and get off the bus, you catch a glimpse of the rowdy boys and immediately wave your other friends goodbye as you dash up to them.

“Ouch! What….” You freeze, completely mortified. You thought the person you had jumped on was Justin; who knew that both him and Chengcheng had wore matching outfits and you completely mistook the other as Justin.

“Sorry….” You scratch the back of your head and you can feel heat rising up your cheeks, despite the cutting winds.

Chengcheng glares at you and crosses his arms, while the rest of Yuehua tries very hard to suppress their giggles (only, Justin is laughing uncontrollably and Quanzhe is giggling like a little fluffball he is.)

“You did that on purpose didn’t you?”

“No I didn’t! It’s not my fault you and Justin wear the exact same thing. Why the hell are you two wearing the same shirt?” You retort back.

“Because it is bloody cute, stupid.” He flicks your forehead and you rub the hurt spot as you glare at him. “Why, jealous?” He smirks at you, a glint in his eyes.

“In your dreams.” You punch his arm before grabbing Justin and dragging him towards the stop point cafe. Justin is cackling like an evil witch and teasing you non-stop. God, you wouldn’t hear the end of this.

“Ge! Did you see that? She only knows how to use her fists. If only she was this talented in her singi-”

“Will you pleaseee stop complaining! I have heard enough of the whining from both of you. Solve your own problems!” Zhengting cuts him off and rubs his head with two fingers. He didn’t sign up for this.

Chengcheng signs and glares at Zeren who is nudging him with his elbow. “What?” Chengcheng hisses. “Nothing! Only, that’s the most you two have said to each other.”

The frown on Chengcheng’s face only deepens as he realises the same thing.

“That’s weird….”

“What’s weird?” Quanzhe pipes out, staring curiously at Chengcheng.

“Nothing!”

But it is weird. He never realised it until now, but it is almost as if he mis-

Chengcheng shakes his head and clears his thought. No way he missed you. No. Bloody. Way.

The rest of Yuehua only smiles and suppresses their grins. They knew this would happen.

“Alright, so….that leaves us with…” The supervisor squints his eyes at the list. “Ah yes, the two problematic kids. Y/n! Chengcheng! You’ll room together.”

“WHAT?!” You both shout at the same time. Chengcheng’s mouth is agape and he is pulling at the supervisor’s sleeve, pleading for a change. “I’ll be very good, I promise. I’ll buy you all the hotpots in the world.” “Yes, yes, you do that for me. Y/n, don’t you dare try to pull that trick on me. The puppy eyes aren’t going to work. And what’s the problem? It’s not like anything would happen. You guys hate each other. Right?”

“THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT!” Once again, you both shout it at the same time, glaring at each other. “Stop copying me.” “Am not!” “If you both won’t SHUT UP.” The supervisor screams at the two of you. And you both pause, and stare at the jiejie. Chengcheng pouts and turns away, clearly unhappy, and runs to Zhengting to whine some more.

It’s cute, but you will never admit it. Not with your arms crossed and brows furrowed as you complain to your other trainee friends, who only tease you for it.

“FAN CHENGCHENG”

“WHAT?!??!!??”

“WILL YOU BE A MAN, AND HELP ME WITH MY SUITCASE!”

“Firstly, I’m your age, I am only seventeen and therefore, still not a fully grown man-”

“What a liar.” You roll your eyes, hands on your hips. A finger points accusingly at him. “Weren’t you the one declaring how ‘manly’ and ‘grown up’ you are, just now, on the bus?”

“And I thought you were asleep.” “I was, until some idiot decided to scream about how supposedly mature they are.”

Zeren nudges Zhengting and the elder nods his head at him. “If they continue to bicker like this, they are going to get married.” Justin claps a hand on his back. “I hate to agree with you Zeren….but you’re right. They are going to get married at this rate.”

“WE CAN HEAR YOU IDIOTS.”

“IT’S NOT HAPPENING.”

“If only the two of them were so synchronised with their dances.”

“Yea…..” “YEA WHAT YEA LAH HURRY UP AND UNPACK AND MEET ME DOWNSTAIRS IN 5!“

Startled, they all quickly apologise to their manager and scurry off, leaving the two of you bickering at your room’s door way, because neither one of you knows how to open the door and are blaming each other for it.

“We are going on a mountain trail-”

As soon as the trainees heard this, everyone collectively groans.

“Well, what do you think your journey is going to be like, a walk in the park? It’s going to be more like this mountain trail, kiddos. While you walk, reflect and make new goals for yourself, so that you will continually improve.” The supervisor fiercely instructs and everyone begrudgingly heads out.

What were your goals? You pondered hard about it. All you wanted to do was dance and make some money out of it, to contribute a little to the family. But now you’re here, in one of China’s biggest entertainment companies. Guilt ripples through your entire being. Being here means having to be away from home, not being able to financially support your family, or even give a hand at the chores. Bile rises up your throat as you think of your little brother. He is annoying, sure, but you still miss his weird antics and funny faces. Now that you think about it, without you around and your parents always working, the burden of taking care of that kid and doing the house chores all lie on the frail shoulders of your grandmother.

On top of that, you didn’t know if you were enough. Were you talented enough? Were you continuously improving? Everyday, you got compliments for your dancing, sure. But you also get multiple criticisms for your singing and rap; and being an idol is first and foremost about voice, not how well you can dance. You don’t feel like you’re enough. You’ve watched the other trainees. They are born gifted. They don’t even have to try, and they can hit falsetto. Meanwhile, you spend countless hours just trying to get that one note right.

Sometimes, you wonder if this is the right route for you, if this is the quickest way to success, the fastest method that earns you the most amount of money in the shortest period of time. Probably not. But…. you just can’t bring yourself to quit. The last 10 months has been enthralling. Exhausting, yes, but fun and exciting. Every day, a new challenge presents itself and the feeling of satisfaction when you have overcome a hurdle, or a teacher says “You’re improving” gives you unspeakable happiness. Unknowingly, you’ve fallen deeper and deeper in love with singing, rapping and dancing.

So you’re torn. You know you aren’t good enough, yet you love it. You know your family is back home in need of your help, but you love doing this. Waking up at 6am, training till 4am or even later. Laughing, playing around, singing, rapping, improving.

But sometimes you think, is it worth it? That your happiness and your ambitions are done at the expense of your family members, who struggle to keep up with the numerous bills?

A single tear slides down your face at that thought and you bow your head, trying to hide your miseries from the bustling group. You’ve spent countless nights worrying about your future, worrying about your family. You’ve never shown this side of you to anyone, and you sure didn’t want to expose this ‘weak’ side of you to the entire of yuehua. It’s just….the tiring walk, the scenic view, the gentle but chilling wind, the falling red and yellow leaves…..all leave you with a sense of regret, guilt and….longing. Longing for what? Home? A better life? A quicker debut? More talent? Better skills? You don’t really know.

Unbeknownst to you, as you fell behind the group, face contorted with an unspoken pain, a certain someone had fallen back as well, watchful eyes searching your face, trying to unravel the multiple layers and facades, searching for the core.

Evening falls like a blanket on all the trainees and although they are tired, they still are enthusiastically helping out with the campfire. It’s a tradition; after the mountain trail, a campfire for all to speak about their innermost feelings. Of course, you can pass if you didn’t want to, but for the most part, everyone freely shares their thoughts. Yuehua’s unique in this way. It’s like a big family.

“.....Last year was difficult. I mean, in a country completely foreign, having to learn a foreign language in such a short time… was difficult. And i had to take care of didi… I felt responsible for a lot of things. And it was burdensome. But this year, I hope that i can keep improving and I can lead the team even better. I don’t want to disappoint again.” Zhengting starts it off and the Yuehua boys are already sniffing. Justin is close to tears as he remembers their Produce 101 attempt that failed. He feels sorry too, for making Zhengting worry about every single thing, and because he was young, he hadn’t know how to help.

It carries on clockwise, everyone having a say and the emotionally charged words dissolves everyone to tears.

“I…” Your eyes shift and they land themselves on the soon-to-be 17 year old boy.

He clears his throat. “I...was also insecure about myself. I felt the need to… grow up faster. I haven’t got a choice. My sister is famous and glamorous. From young, I always felt the need to do just as well, to be equally perfect. I needed to grow up faster because I wanted to show that I was just as competent as anyone else, and I wasn’t just riding on my sister’s popularity. I just thought, I needed to be good in something, but something different from my sister, because I didn’t want to be compared to her.”

Chengcheng swallows down the nervousness that is wrapping its hands around his throat.

“I know maybe some think I should then do something outside the entertainment industry. I mean, I could easily ask my parents for money and start my own business. But, I love dancing and rapping and singing. I chose to do this because I want to do it; because I love it. But….I don’t know if I’ve put in enough effort and done enough to be considered competent.”

The Yuehua boys immediately protest and are shouting out words of affirmation. He waves his head ans silences them, continuing on.

“But I realised if I love it, I should just do it. It doesn’t matter if my sister is in the same industry, doesn’t matter if other people think I should be doing something else, doesn’t matter if now, I’m still not good enough. I just have to work hard for my dream and achieve my dream. Because I’ve decided that from now onwards, how I want my dream to be, is up to me. 我的梦想季后由我主宰。”

Everyone applauses and many are wiping away stray tears, nodding as they agree with whata Chengcheng said.

But it is almost as if he can’t hear them, because his chocolate brown eyes, now almost looking black because of the dim lights, are locked with your own irises and you wonder, if he had known that you hated him because you thought he was wasting his resources and he was now giving you an answer; if he had known that you were feeling unworthy, untalented and not cut out for this, and he was telling you that it didn’t matter; if he had known that you were torn between serving your family and chasing after your own dreams, and he was persuading you to go after what you love and do what makes you happy.

You pass when it comes to your turn, and no one questions. Except for one person.

At the end, everyone goes back to your dorms. You stay out, watching the twinkling stars and the sparks of fire. It’s calming, it’s meditative, and it gives you time to rethink your choices.

“Why didn’t you share just now?” A mellow voices rings from across the fire.

“.......I didn’t know what to say.”

You see the shadow nod.

“How did you know what I was thinking?” You directly ask him.

He shrugged and mysteriously smirks. “I have my ways.” You roll your eyes and a smile creeps up your face. “Creep.”

“Hey now, that’s not very nice.” He accusingly points his marshmallow at you. You walk up to him and bite it off. He glares at you, but it soon softens and melts into a nervous glance as he realises how close you are to him. Even in the darkness of the night, you can see the flush on his face. Laughing, you take a seat next to him.

“Thank you though.” You whisper eventually, eyes lifting up in awkwardness.

“You owe me one.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes you do. Hey, i did you a favour, I should get some reward, right?”

You rolls your eyes and look back down, only to be startled at the proximity of the two of you. You can almost feel his breath on your cheeks. “Maybe if you give me a kiss-” Two fingers push his forehead away. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Actually…..if you buy me ramen, maybe I’ll reconsider?” You cheekily look at him.

“Deal.” He grins and pokes another marshmallow with his stick and hovers it over the fire.

The dancing flames illuminate his pale face. His eyes are clear and reflect that beautiful sparks, his rosy cheeks a pretty complement to his fair skin tone, and his pouty lips looking extremely inviting.

Has Chengcheng always looked so ethereal?

[AT THE END OF THE DAY]

“The lights of the hallway were flickering and then….BAM” Justin shouts and Quanzhe gives an ear piercing scream. You cover your ears and shudder. Why, why, why do you never learn your lesson and always let Justin tell you ghost stories as a bedtime story?

“He hears a voice from the dark hallway, and it sounds like a growl or howl. It said, ‘Where have all the children gone?’” Justin’s eyes grow bigger and his hands wave in front of his face. You stare at him and lean forward, because while you were scared, you were also intrigued.

“The end.” Justin says and he leans back, a neutral expression on. “See you tomorrow y/n! You too, Chengcheng!” He winks at the both of you and Chengcheng just rolls his eyes. Zhengting waves a goodbye to the both of you as he half carries a bawling Quanzhe to his room.

“Can you not...off the light?” You timidly ask Chengcheng as his fingers touch the light switch.

He turns around. “Oh no, our dear fearless and seemingly infallible queen is scared.”

You glare at him. “Don’t make me hit you.” He shrugs. “Not going to hurt, baby girl.” He says as he turns around and switches off almost all the lights, leaving the one near you bed on. Now you regret asking him to keep the light on, because he is sure to see your lightly flushed face. You hide under the covers and you squeeze your eyes close, trying hard to not overthink about the story Justin had told you.

You wake up in cold sweat. Damn Justin…. He is going to get it tomorrow. You shiver; whether it is from the cold or because of something else, you don’t know. Either way, your hair still stands up and the howling wind isn’t helping you. Heart pounding, hands clammy, you swallow nervously and look around the room. The light casts shadows at odd angles and it sends chills down your spine.

Looking over at the sleeping Chengcheng, you are dying to go in and sleep with him. Not that you want to! It’s because you will feel safer. Right? You try hard to convince yourself. Chengcheng sleeping is not soft, nope nope nope. You just want to feel safe and reassured. That’s right.

“Chengcheng?” You whisper out. You internally curse yourself at how your voice trembles.

“Hmmmmm?” He mumbles through the sheets.

“Can I-”

“Come here.” His voice is low and husky, but oddly reassuring amidst the ominous shadows and screaming winds.

Diving under the sheets, you are careful not to touch him. The proximity however, is enough to cause colour to paint your cheeks. Your eyes travel from his clear forehead, to his half moon eyes, to his perfect nose, to his pink lips. You hear a sigh depart from them, as you wonder whether they feel as soft as they look.

“I know I am handsome, but are you going to sleep, or are you going to just stare at my face?”

“I can feel you rolling your eyes y/n. Do you know, if you keep doing that-”

You didn’t know what motivated you or what pushed you forward, but your eyelashes flutter close as you press you lips against the skin near the soft lips.

You feel a hint of their velvety texture, but not wanting to push too hard, you only press a quick kiss on the cheek before burying your head in his chest. He smells of citrus and lemongrass, a mixture of herbs and a slice of a chilled wind, refreshing and comforting. “Can’t I do both.”

You don’t even have to look, as you feel his cheeks lift up. A pair of lips press themselves on the top of your hair and light, slender fingers weave themselves in your hair and he combs through them, the continuous action lulling you to sleep.

“Of course you can.”

He thinks you’re asleep, but you hear a soft “I love you” at the curve of your ear. A smile finds its way onto your lips and you whisper back onto his neck. “I didn’t think I would say this,

“But I think I’m in love with you, Fan Chengcheng.”

You laugh as you feel the heat rising from his neck to his cheeks and he playfully hits your arm, before rubbing circles, soothing it. A kiss is pressed against your forehead, your cheek, and finally, when your lips meet, you wonder, why did you have to hate him?

#from haters to lovers series #fan chengcheng #chengcheng is so so so cute i want to squish him #justin #zhu zhengting is like a mother #xiao gui #wang ziyi #cai xukun #chen linong #yuehua sprouts #you zhangjing #lin yanjun #nine percent #ding zeren #quanzhe

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shenlongpipe · 3 years

Text

Seamless steel pipe identification and inspection

Seamless steel pipe identification

1.shoddy seamless steel pipe is easy to scratch, the reason is that shoddy seamless steel pipe manufacturer equipment is rudimentary, easy to produce burrs, scratch the surface of the steel. Deep scratches reduce the strength of the steel.

2.The shoddy seamless steel pipe has no metallic luster and is light red or similar to the color of pig iron.

3.The crossbars of shoddy seamless steel pipes are thin and low, and often appear to be not filled with enough, because the manufacturers press down the first few passes of the finished products to achieve large negative tolerances, and the iron type is small, and the hole type is not filled with enough.

4.The cross-section of the shoddy seamless steel pipe is oval because the manufacturer, in order to save materials, presses down the first two passes of the finished rolls to a large extent, and the strength of this seamless steel pipe is greatly reduced, and it also does not meet the standard of seamless steel pipe size.

5.The composition of high-quality seamless steel pipe is uniform, the tonnage of cold shear is high, and the end face of cutting head is smooth and neat, while the end face of cutting head of shoddy seamless steel pipe often has the phenomenon of flesh loss due to poor material, i.e. unevenness and no metallic luster. And because of the shoddy manufacturer's product cutting head less, the head and tail will appear large ears.

6.The shoddy seamless steel pipe material contains many impurities, the density of steel is small, and the size is super poor, so in the absence of vernier calipers, it can be weighed for verification. Generally speaking, the whole phase weighing effect will be better, mainly taking into account the cumulative error and probability theory of this problem.

Seamless steel pipe inspection

Seamless steel pipe

geometric size and shape inspection

①Seamless steel pipe end bevel angle and blunt edge inspection: angle ruler, cardboard.

② seamless steel pipe curvature check: straightedge, horizontal ruler (1m), stopper, fine line measurement per meter curvature, full-length curvature.

③Seamless steel pipe length check: steel tape measure, manual, automatic length measurement.

④Seamless steel pipe outside diameter, ellipticity check: caliper, vernier caliper, ring gauge, measuring the maximum point, the minimum point.

⑤ seamless steel pipe wall thickness inspection: micrometer, ultrasonic thickness gauge, not less than 8 points at both ends and record.

Seamless steel pipe

chemical composition analysis

chemical analysis method, instrumental analysis method (infrared C-S instrument, direct reading spectrometer, zcP, etc.).

①N-0 instrument: gas content analysis N, O

②Direct reading spectrometer: C, Si, Mn, P, S, Cr, Mo, Ni, Cn, A1, W, V, Ti, B, Nb, As, Sn, Sb, Pb, Bi in block specimens

③Infrared C-S instrument: analysis of C and S elements in iron alloys, steelmaking raw materials, steel.

Seamless steel pipe

physical and chemical properties test

① Seamless steel pipe hardness test: Brinell hardness HB, Rockwell hardness HRC, Vickers hardness HV, etc.

Note: specimen elongation after fracture and specimen size GB/T 1760

② seamless steel pipe impact test: CVN, notch C, V, work J value J/cm2

Standard specimen 10 × 10 × 55 (mm) Non-standard specimen 5 × 10 × 55 (mm)

③ seamless steel pipe tensile test: measure stress and deformation, determine the strength of the material (YS, TS) and plasticity indicators (A, Z) longitudinal, transverse specimens pipe section, arc, circular specimens (￠10, ￠12.5) diameter, thin wall large diameter, thick wall fixed scale distance.

④ hydraulic test: test pressure, steady pressure time, p = 2Sδ / D

Seamless steel pipe

surface quality inspection（100%）

① manual visual inspection: lighting conditions, standards, experience, markings, steel pipe rotation.

② nondestructive testing inspection:

a. Eddy current flaw detection ET: (electromagnetic induction)

Mainly sensitive to point-like (hole-shaped) defects. Standard: GB/T 7735-2004 Level: B grade

b.Ultrasonic flaw detection UT:

For a variety of material uniformity of the material surface and internal crack defects are more sensitive.

Standard: GB/T 5777-1996 Level: C5

c. Magnetic particle MT and leakage magnetic flaw detection: magnetic flaw detection, applicable to the detection of surface and near-surface defects of ferromagnetic materials.

Standard: GB/T 12606-1999 Level: C4

d. Electromagnetic ultrasonic flaw detection:

Does not need coupling medium, can be applied to high temperature and high speed, rough steel pipe surface flaw detection.

e. Penetration flaw detection:

Fluorescence, coloring, detection of steel pipe surface defects.

Cangzhou Shenlong Pipe Manufacturing Co., Ltd. is a company specialized in the production, processing and sales of various steel pipes and pipe fittings enterprise, the production base is located in Cangzhou in Hebei. Founded in 1992, covering more than 60,000 square meters, more than 200 employees (including 30 inspectors), annual output of around 150,000 tons of steel pipes, and 40,000 tons pipe fittings. Its products are exported to the Middle East, Europe,Africa America and other countries, which are widely used in oil exploit,chemical industry, water conservancy, architecture and other fields.

0 notes

jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Sugar and Coffee [14]

Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 14.5 OR Chapter 15

➜ Words: 4.7k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

cr.

“After we’ve rolled our gum paste and cut it, we want to pinch the ends while tucking and rolling all the edges to thin it out and distort the shape. Peonies aren’t perfect after all.” You follow closely after her, taking the ball tool to make press it into the sugar petal and roughening the ridges. Sejeong continues to explain, “It’s a back and forth motion. Just trace the edge. Like that. When you’re happy with it, just add it to the covered center. Slide it up, like so, and then fold them up and make it tight. Overlap them and there we go! We have our bud. Repeat it for the other layers and watch that alignment. When it’s dry, you can colour it with petal dust.” When the older woman finally looks over, she’s stunned. “That’s lovely, Y/N!” “Really?” You turn your head up, eyes burning after concentrating so hard while trying to follow along. “Yes, you’re a very fast learner. I thought I would have to show you at least a few more times, but it looks like you’re on the right track. See? Isn’t this a lot more fun than just piping flowers?” “It’s more realistic.” You smile. “Thanks for showing me.” “It’s not a problem. I’ll be right back, so keep on going.” She pats your shoulder and leaves for the front where her husband should be, probably in consultation with a couple. You continue, folding the petals up so the flower looks like it’s blooming. But then your focus is shattered by a frustrated grunt from across the island. “How are you doing this?” Jungkook’s eyes bore holes into the flowers you’ve completed. You grin at him and stick it into the styrofoam. Brushing your hands off, you walk over to see his attempt of a flower. It appears more like a squashed bug. “Are you adding the glue? Your petals are too thin, Jungkook. That’s why they’re breaking apart. Not too thin, but not too thick. Here, watch.” You demonstrate despite how Sejeong already helped him individually for the past half hour. You take another rolled piece of sugar paste, cut the pattern out and pinch lightly. “See? Try it.” You hand it off and watch diligently over his shoulder as he uses the ball tool. “Like this?” “You can put a bit more pressure than that.” Your hand gingerly wraps around his wrist, guiding his motion. Jungkook’s eyes flicker to you in the meanwhile, staring. He’s noticed it for a while now — it’s hard not to when his eyes constantly stray to you. But it’s clear you’re falling in love with making wedding cakes. That you’ve found a passion within this industry. It makes him glad to see you like this. It's hard though. Since it makes you that much more attractive. “Jungkook?” He puts down the tool and knocks his head back with a long, loud sigh. “Ugh. I can’t do it.” “Psh. Quit whining, baby. You can do it.” Jungkook looks at you, suddenly quiet. He leans in, doe eyes searching your expression. There might be something on your face, but he doesn’t say anything. You start to lean back when he gets too close yet the boy hovers over you, an inch away. You can feel his breath on your skin as the heat rises onto your cheeks. Jungkook’s lips part. “Can’t you do it for me?” You snort, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. “Yeah, right. You wish. You’re never going to learn how to do it if I do it for you.” Jungkook sulks as you return to your station. “I’m not even a fan of flowers. They always die.” “Well lucky for you, these don’t die or wilt. We just eat them,” you chirp mischievously before barking, “Hurry up, we have to learn how to use royal icing and pipe lace!” Jungkook scoffs lightly and tries to continue. Even if he’s a complete amateur, it’s cute to see him so concentrated. The daily routine has fallen into place. The pair of you have learned what you need to do and it’s easy to fall into a rhythm when it’s a consistent cycle of consultations and wedding cake making, practicing techniques and cleaning. And it’s not just you two who are in and out of the kitchen. Yuna comes often to help out every other day, usually flanking Jungkook’s side much to his dismay or being amazed at your piping and sugar decorating. “How’d you do that?” She looks at you inquisitively. “How’d I do what?” “Make those flowers,” Yuna asks, mesmerized at your piping. “Mine looks so…” “Here.” You smile softly to the younger girl. “I’ll help you. When you squeeze the cream out of the bag….” You enjoy the work — it’s fulfilling to see satisfied couples on their beautiful day enjoying a slice of what you’ve created. The cakes are breathtaking when they’re complete too and you can’t believe that you’ve actually done it. That you played a big part in making a day they’ll remember forever. Jungkook seems to like it as well — maybe not as much as you, but at least when he has some time with Namjoon and the two of them work on chocolate. They always discuss things you don’t understand and often turn the kitchen’s temperature all the way down to keep the chocolate from melting. It always makes the rest of you run away to seek warmth. “Have you ever tried sculpting chocolate, son? Made any chocolate showpieces?” “I tried to make a building once but it didn’t really end up working out.” “It collapsed on you?” “It ended up being a mess.” “Ah, I know how that feels. The first sculpture I ever tried was a phoenix and it was a disaster. But don’t worry. You’re in good hands now.” Namjoon laughs heartily. “You’re talking to the master of masters here, self-proclaimed, of course.” Jungkook grins and when asked what he would like to make first, his thoughts automatically stray to you. He hears your muffled voice filter from the front entrance, laughing with Sejeong. “Is it….possible to make flowers? Like a bouquet and a vase or something?” “Yes, great idea actually! It’s simple enough to build the rest of our foundation on.” They start to pull out bowls and saucepans. “Chocolate sculptures basically break down into three types….” You’re glad to be here, even when there were so many rumours that wedding cake internships were the hardest. Somehow, you always feel satisfied at the end of the day. Especially with Jungkook by your side.

“Well, you should congratulate them afterwards” “Why? Just do it after you ask for their names.” “But then you have to do it afterwards anyway and that gets repetitive.” “It’s not repetition to congratulate them on their engagement,” you argue. “It’s called good customer service.” Jungkook scoffs. “I bet they’re tired of hearing it all the time. It’s just unnecessary, and what happens if they’re not happy about it?” Your brow cocks. “They’re not happy to be getting married?” “You never know the situation of these couples.” The little shit shrugs, simply playing devil’s advocate to fuel the banter and relish in how easy it is to make you argumentative. “Maybe it’s a marriage of convenience or an arranged marriage or they’re doing it to get a visa.” “I highly doubt that, Jeon.” “I’m just saying it’s not impossible, so it’s better to be safe than sorry.” “And only congratulate them once?” “Exactly.” “You’re fun at parties.” His arm wraps around your waist and he flashes the biggest smile. “The funnest.” Before you can utter a single word, the bell at the front rings and Jungkook’s warmth is gone from an instant. He takes a step to the side like he never showed you physical affection in the first place. “Welcome to Kim’s Wedding Catering Company. Do you have an appointment?” The woman, with long blonde hair draped down her backside, pushes her sunglasses up her head. She tugs her expensive pea coat that’s keeping her warm over her dress and leggings. She looks familiar somehow, but you can’t quite pinpoint what it is. “Yes, I do.” “Congratulations on your engagement!” you quickly interject, much to Jungkook’s dismay. You grin at him and he has to repress his smile, simply shaking his head to show his disapproval. The woman smiles. “Thank you. My name should be under Kim Chungha.” Jungkook flips open the book, but your brows furrow. Your brain searches. You’ve heard that name somewhere before. Wait a minute… “There she is!” Sejeong emerges from her office with a wide grin. She opens the gate to waltz to the woman and engulf her in an embrace. “I almost thought you weren’t coming!” “Sorry, I was running late.” Jungkook leans over to you. “Who is she?” “It’s Sejeong’s sister,” you say and he nods, enlightened. “These were the two interns I was telling you about, Y/N and Jungkook. Y/N and Jungkook, this is my dearest, younger sister, Chungha.” “Nice to meet you.” She comes over to shake your hand and Jungkook’s. Chungha turns to her sister, expression endeared. “They’re so cute.” “Yeah, the young ones always are. Full of that hard-working spirit,” she muses. “How long are you staying here for?” Chungha glances at her wrist watch. “I have twenty minutes give or take.” “Perfect. I’ll let these two give you a cake tasting and then you can be on your way.” “Are you sure you don’t want me to look at the design or anything?” Chungha asks, voice moving up a few pitches. “You don’t want me to decide the tiers or look or the flowers or the decorations? I read online that the cake should match the theme of the wedding.” “Aren’t you stressed enough with all your other wedding arrangements? At least let one thing at your wedding be a surprise.” Sejeong scoffs, hands placed on her hips. “If you can’t even trust Namjoon and I, then who can you trust?” “Alright, alright.” Chungha concedes and Sejeong allows the pair of you to take over, not wanting to influence her sister’s opinion too much. She leaves and you follow the usual protocol, taking out the decorated slices of cake on the long plate for her to try. “How long have you guys worked here for?” she asks as she tastes the first one. “For several weeks now.” You quirk your head to the side. “Two? Three?” “I think three,” Jungkook agrees. “I know they were pretty swamped ever since Soohyun went on maternity leave, so I’m glad that they have two more sets of hands here helping out. But do you guys enjoy working here?” The older woman’s eyes are curious. “You can be honest, it’s okay. I won’t tell. I know my sister can be tough.” “I actually really like it. I don’t know about him.” You laugh while hitching a thumb to the person beside you, throwing Jungkook under the bus completely. He’s stunned and Chungha takes the opportunity you’ve set up to tease him too. “Ooh, so you’re the slacker, huh?” “No. That’s not it,” he defends. “I just wouldn’t say I’m passionate about making sugar flowers and piping and stacking cakes.” “Which is half the job,” you chime. “I like the chocolate work and the people I work with,” Jungkook says with a cheeky smirk, outright staring at you. Your face heats like a furnace and you divert your vision elsewhere, mustering a half-hearted scoff and retort. Chungha notices the exchange and smiles to herself. She tries the next slice, and suddenly hums. “I really like this one. Is it chocolate?” “It’s chocolate with ganache.” “Well I guess, I finally found the one!” Sejeong’s younger sister is pleasant. She’s kind compared to the many bridezillas you encounter on a daily basis that request a gluten free, vegan friendly, and dairy-free cake in the shape of a heart with a large, customized slice for Uncle Joe. Chungha even compliments you both as great workers and leaves praise to both Namjoon and Sejeong that you appreciate. You find out that she’s getting married in three weeks — a destination wedding in French Polynesia right by the beach. Apparently the whole venue is ready and the last step was the cake that her own sister was going to make. With the way she describes it, it sounds lovely. You wish you could come see it for yourself. “We’re not taking any bookings since we’re going to have to close up shop for the wedding,” Namjoon mentions passingly. “Oh, how long will you guys be gone for?” “We’ll probably be gone for about a week,” Sejeong says. “We need to get there at least three to four days before Chungha’s wedding to prepare the cake and then maybe two or three days afterwards just to enjoy ourselves. It’s not often we’re in a resort in French Polynesia.” You exchange a discreet look with Jungkook. A week off doesn’t sound so bad. Kind of nice actually. But then Namjoon exclaims— “So you two better start packing!” “What?” You whirl your head over. Jungkook is a deer in headlights. “We’re coming?” “Of course you two are coming.” Namjoon laughs exuberantly. “We’re going to need all the help we can get! The flight and room is counted as business expenses, so you guys don’t need to worry about anything. Think of it as a business trip slash vacation privilege that you get in this internship.” “Weren’t you supposed to tell them about this on their first day?” Sejeong frowns, mouth dropping open. “Did you forget?” “Was I?” Her husband chuckles tensely much to his wife’s exasperation. “Can I come?!” Yuna interjects herself, standing on the tips of her toes, excited by the proposition. “School is done for me then!” “This is Sejeong’s side of the family and I’m sure she already has all her guests already planned. It’s rude to crash someone’s wedding.” Namjoon lolls his head to the side, waiting to see how his niece will argue. The young girl pouts. “Yeah, but Chungha knows me. Plus, I’m not just a guest. I’d be helping with the wedding cake.” “Okay.” Namjoon seems to contemplate it and the girl is hopeful until he smiles, revealing the other trick he has up his sleeve. “But what about your summer school?” “I…” Yuna opens her mouth and then closes it. “I can always skip or...catch up later.” “I don’t think so, missy. Your dad’s going to have a word with me if you fail math again and then you wouldn’t be able to work here at all.” The high schooler pouts, stamping her foot. “This sucks.” “We’ll come back sooner than you expect,” Jungkook says and she looks up at him. The boy smiles gingerly like an older brother to a younger sister. “We’ll get you a souvenir.” “Really?” “Yeah, sure.” That seems enough to placate her and Yuna hums underneath her breath as she continues on. It’s cute to see their interaction. You and Jungkook buzzing with excitement too. You’ve never been to French Polynesia and traveling while working is a win-win. It couldn’t get better than this. // “What a coincidence — I may or may not have been shopping online late last night again and impulsively got myself a sun hat. Now I can put it to good use. I should probably buy a new dress or two or maybe sandals,” you sing-song. Jungkook is amused at how you’re throwing all your money away practically in a fire pit — but you like to argue it’s money well spent. Better than him buying video games, anime figurines, and more IU merch. “Should I get a bathing suit?” “Be careful. You might just blind everyone on the beach.” “Okay, fuck off, Jeon.” “I’m just kidding.” He laughs cheekily and when he passes by you, he taps your nose lightly. You blink and Jungkook boyishly smiles. “You could go topless if you wanted and I wouldn’t mind. Trust me.” “Gross.” Your expression blanches and he cackles, moving away. “I will if you wear a speedo.” “Yeah and I might be the one to get arrested when my goods spill.” Your eyes roll. “Not if we go to a nude beach.” “Is that a proposition?” Jungkook’s irises sparkle in the light. You flick flour towards him. “You wish.” It’s another one of those late nights. The both of you are off work but are still willingly here. The shop is closed, Namjoon and Sejeong gone, but you’re still using their kitchen to practice what you’ve learnt. They’re happy to let you use their space as long as you keep it tidy and clean. Some of Jungkook’s music is playing softly in the background and you’re tapping your foot to the rhythm. You’re working on a sugar rose that’s abundant in petals, dusting the tips with a light pink. There’s a long silence as you concentrate, the jazzy melody keeping the kitchen from being solely white noise. And right when you’re about to finish, Jungkook’s arm slings over your shoulder. He presses to your side and leans over to look. “Woah. Did you do that?” “Who else would’ve, dumbass—” Giggles bubble out of your throat when he starts to tickle you. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean it! Jungkook!” He lets up, but is still sulking. “Show me any more attitude and I’m going to hold you down for a tickle torture, brat.” You’re rendered speechless at his dominance, but he pays no mind, too busy looking at the sugar flower. “I was going to say that it’s amazing. It looks real, Y/N. Better than real actually.” “Thanks.” “How’d you get so good so fast?” “I don’t know.” You can’t help being bashful. Jungkook’s stare is intense and you clear your throat obnoxiously, getting a grip. “Maybe cause I don’t suck.” His brow twitches. You jump out of the way before another tickle attack can ensue. You laugh as he starts to chase after you. “Jungkook! We’re not supposed to run in the kitchen! It’s a safety hazard, don’t you remember bakery safety and sanitation?!” “Then stop running, Y/N.” He’s on the other side of the island as you round a corner. Every direction you walk, he mirrors you. “No, you first!” “You started it.” There’s no way you can win against his muscle pig-ness, so your eyes flicker to the door and with a breath held, you book it to the doorway. Unfortunately for you, Jungkook already detected your plan the minute your eyes strayed away from him. And with two strides, he has his arms around your waist. He pulls you up in the air as you giggle and squeal. “Caught you.” Jungkook grins. “I win.” “Okay, okay!” He puts you down in front of his station. There are metal sheet trays on the counter with something rather special on them. “Is this what you’ve been working on with Namjoon?” “Not exactly.” Jungkook smiles. “We had some leftover strawberries that no one was using so I made my infamous chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes.” “They look too pretty to eat.” He did a good job with the piping. The frosting is a light colour of taffy, swirled on top with the chocolate strawberry. “This was what Taehyung was raving about, right?” “Yep.” He picks one up, holding it in front of you. You’re about to take the cupcake from his hands, but he clicks his tongue in annoyance and retracts his arm. “Nuh-uh.” You pout at him, but give in anyhow. Your hand wraps around his wrist so he can’t play any games and you allow him to feed you. You bite into the cupcake and immediately, the moist chocolate is gooey in your mouth. The frost is overwhelming with the fresh taste of strawberry, the texture rather silky. Your eyes widen as you chew, the taste developing, and he watches your reaction with a pleased smile. Jungkook takes the strawberry on top that’s dipped in dark chocolate and drizzled with white chocolate. He urges you to part your lips and you bite down. The chocolate is tempered, falling apart into pieces. But it melts on your palate. The flavour is sweet but the fruit is refreshing, chocolate smooth. It’s an explosion. You almost cream your pants. “Oh my god.” You swallow it reluctantly, wanting to keep the taste forever on your tongue. “Taehyung was right. I think I almost creamed my pants.” His nose wrinkles. “All of you guys are so disgusting. But it’s good, right?” “It’s fucking amazing. Jungkook, you could open up a business just selling these.” You secure your hands on his shoulder, shaking him to his senses. You can’t believe that he’s never thought of this. That he’s never done anything with such an incredible recipe. Jungkook laughs boyishly. You let go, looking at the tray that’s appearing more like a gold mine. “H-Holy shit!” “If I had to make these all day, I think I would be bored to death.” He throws the rest of the cupcake into his own mouth, chewing in his cheek. “Can you give me the recipe then?” Your eyes are glimmering. This is big. If he doesn’t want to make a profit from it, then you can. This and Yoongi and Taehyung’s lemon meringue pie, you’ll be swimming in bills in no time. Jungkook flicks your forehead and your fantasy shatters. “I don’t think so. I might like you, but not enough to sell my secrets.” You pout at him, rubbing the spot he flicked that doesn’t even hurt that much. If he won’t give you the recipe, then you want to at least eat one more. “Can I have another one?” “You can have all of them,” Jungkook says nonchalantly with a grin. Your expression lights up like a lamp. “Really?” “Yes, really. I made them for you.” You wonder if you can reverse engineer this somehow and figure out the recipe. But knowing you, you’ll probably end up burning saucepans trying to get the chocolate right and knowing Jungkook, he most likely threw in a secret ingredient that no one would ever think of. “I’ll pack them up for you.” He grabs a paper box. ��If you eat all of them without having dinner first, you’ll have a stomach ache. Dessert’s always last for a reason.” You watch him and it hits you in a delayed manner that Jungkook stayed late when he didn’t need to. He wasn’t working on anything. He just stayed to make these. “Where do you want to eat?” “How about Alberto’s?” “Sure.” Jungkook finishes packing and helps you clean up. He opts to wash the dishes and tells you to go sweep instead. As the boy scrubs the plates and utensils, he sings along to the music and you listen quietly. When all is done, the lights are turned off and the door to the shop is closed up and locked. Your steps and his fall into a rhythm. “Oh, you know that movie you wanted to watch? When Spring Meets Autumn? It’s playing tonight. We can go after dinner and I’ll pay since I have a two for one deal coupon anyway. The reviews aren’t great, but it shouldn’t be too bad.” “What are you doing?” You suddenly stop in the middle of the empty sidewalk, underneath the street lamp that warmly illuminates both of your figures in the crisp, cool night of the city. Jungkook halts with you. The light softly glows on his skin. He tilts his head to the side, doe eyes gazing into yours. “What do you mean?” “I mean this. Us. What is this?” You gesture between your bodies, conflicted to no end as the realization sinks into you. “Going out to eat, going to the movies together…” “We’ve done these things before.” “Yeah, but it's...different.” You can feel it. It’s not like two friends going to grab a bite together or going to the theater to purposely catch a bad movie and shit on it afterwards. There’s something there. You don’t know what it is or even how to explain why the dynamic between the two of you has shifted so drastically. “How so?” Jungkook questions. Maybe he’s egging you on, trying to get you to utter a coherent response. There’s no way he doesn’t feel this too. “Like….this.” You lift your bag that has the box full of chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes. “Baking things for me. Staying with me after work. Waiting for me in the morning. Washing my dishes. Buying me lunch. Getting breakfast prepared. Putting your arm around me. Tapping my nose….just...things….like that.” Slowly the corners of his mouth curl. Jungkook casually digs his hands in his hoodie pocket. “I’m courting you, Y/N.” “What?” You’re absolutely stunned. “This is what people do when they like someone.” Jungkook keeps walking and when he realizes you aren’t following, he spins back around. “It isn’t complicated. I want to spend more time with you, so I am.” Jungkook continues moving, and you snap back to reality. Your body is in motion, trying to catch up to his side. But you’re still dazed, not knowing what to say. But there’s no need for you to utter a word. The topic casually changes like he had been previously discussing the weather. You feel unsettled, not sure what this means. It’s almost been half a year since Seokjin broke up with you. You’re not sure if you’re ready. And it scares you even more that Jungkook makes you want to be ready.

You’re feeling it frequently these days— A panicked sensation brewing in the pit of your stomach. As if you have an inkling of what’s to come and your intuition is preparing yourself. Like seconds before you spill milk, or a glass cup is about to hit the hard floor. Moments before catastrophe that the tickle in your tummy ignites. You can’t move or react quick enough, but your brain knows it’s going to happen either way. You’re quite confident this discomfort is dread, a sense of foreboding. Either that or it’s the feeling is butterflies. Maybe it’s both. You haven’t decided. But you feel it most strongly when you look at Jeon Jungkook. Him and that stupid, big nose of his and those sparkly eyes as if his mom inhaled a tube of glitter before he was born. It’s just awful the way he doesn’t even notice. It’s awful when he scrunches those brows of his, when his eyes are darkened in concentration, and his pouted lips are downturned. It’s awful when he rolls sleeves up to his elbows and his veins are popping from his forearms. It’s awful when his fingers and knuckles are kneading into dough and he’s panting, out of breath and breaking a sweat. It’s awful when he’s focusing hard on his work and trying his best. God. It’s just stressful looking at Jungkook. It’s distracting. You try not to look at him. As if he were the sun and too blinding for you to face. But he’s always in your peripheral. He’s always the person you pick out first in a crowd. No matter what he does, you always seem to pick it up. It’s appalling. “Are you okay, Y/N?” Sejeong’s question brings you back down to the ground, crashing the train of thoughts that should’ve been stopped long ago. “Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just spaced out a little.” You stiffly laugh and she nods. “All ready for the trip?” “Yup! I’m all packed.” “Good. I’m giving you a fair warning that it’s going to be hot, so dress appropriately. Wouldn’t want any of my interns getting heat strokes.” You bob your head and quickly steal another glance into the kitchen area. “Hey, Sejeong. Do you know what Namjoon and Jungkook are working on?” The older woman smiles, stealing a brief glimpse. “Last I heard, they were trying to make a bouquet of flowers.” Flowers? You thought Jungkook hated them.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #btsboulangerie #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook reader insert #sugar and coffee #JUNGKOOK AS A MF SMOOTH DUDE #Y'ALL IM SCREAMING #honestly editing this chapter has healed my soul

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tenseoyong · 7 years

Text

A-Z NSFW: Hyorin

Cr.

A/N: Requests are not open.

Donate | Masterlist

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Post-sex with Hyorin is probably the hysterically unrealistic lovey stuff from movies. Mass cuddles and you two likely end up migrating to the bathtub, rose petals and bath bombs and candles, all that mushy shit while you come down from your highs together. Calm and intimate moments, just quietly relaxing in the warm water and gently washing one another.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of their partner’s) Hands down Hyorin’s favorite is your thighs. Nothing both strokes her ego and turns her on more than feeling your thighs tense and twitch in her grasp when she’s laid out with her face buried between your legs, feeling the light pressure of them pressing on either side of her head and your fingers tangled in her hair.

C = Cum She’s such a grabber when she cums. Hyorin’s one that’ll be grasping on to you for dear life, digging her perfectly manicured nails in to your shoulder or biceps or lower back, yanking on your hair while she’s gasping for air. The girls got pipes but I feel like she’d be one that’d just let out shaky breaths and short moans like she’s had the wind knocked out of her as opposed to being louder.

D = Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs) It’s no secret that Hyorin really kinda likes seeing you in lingerie, so it’s not that surprising that she’d be pretty in to role playing and dressing up. But that pretty obvious secret gets kept a secret because it’s a little hard for her to bring up. I mean how do you say that? ‘Hey babe, I love you, so how about you pretend you’re someone else while we fuck? Sounds fun, right?’ Or let’s just say Hyorin doesn’t have a good plan of how to even start discussing that. She’ll let it slip. Eventually.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Being older, and I vaguely recall Sistar teaching WJSN to watch out for boys and senior idols, I think Hyorin’s been around the block and has some stories to tell. She’s not the most experienced person in the world, but definitely isn’t clueless, or at least knows what’s going down. It isn’t hard for her to figure out how to play your body like a violin.

F = Favorite Position Kinks and all aside, Hyorin really is an intimate lover. She’s very fond of full contact, whether it be missionary or spooning positions, it doesn’t matter as long as she’s able to have full access to your body and have your lips within reach.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) In general, Hyorin is more serious in the heat of the moment, she’s very focused on bringing you both the most pleasure possible. But she’s not above cracking tf up if something funny happens, Hyorin doesn’t have a poker face when faced with humor. You trip once trying to get your pants off, or get frustrated when you can’t get her bra off and the giggle gates are opened.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they) With the outfits female idols wear...it’d be pretty hard to not know...what’s going on down there. Let’s be honest now. Hyorin’s very groomed, not bare, I think she’d be one that has a little landing strip or something like that.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) Back to Favorite Position, Hyorin is very intimate and more romantic that the average person is. She’s one that even if she has you tied down, blindfold and all, and fucking you for all it’s worth, she’s whispering words of praise and pure affection.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) Lowkey think she’d be into mutual masturbation tbh. So like, there’s that. Or if the need arises, Hyorin usually just puts it in the spank bank until she’s back with you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) You could probably write an essay on her kinks, ngl. Nothing insane, more common kinks that you really wouldn’t blink twice at. She’s not a full on dom, but she’s definitely more dominant in the bedroom, with a preference for the B in BDSM. She likes the control the silk cloths and ropes give her, having you on full display and at her mercy. A huge one of her kinks is praise and body worship. No matter how confident you are, I think with breaking beauty standards and maintaining her tanned skin, it does weigh on her mind sometimes, and your praise and reassurance just makes her heart soar and her legs shake.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do) Besides the fun she has with teasing you with a certain pair of panties, sex is solely contained to the bedroom/home. With how long you typically are going at it, the beds the most comfortable spot. But there are a few times where you trail into the bathroom, something Hyorin will have the bathroom decked out in candles and mood lighting and the whole shabang, and you’ll make good use of the large bath tub and waterproof toys.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) I feel like Hyorin is totally one that gets unbelievably turned on by her thoughts alone, imagining you, and you two in the bedroom in her own mind. One of her biggest turn ons that’ll eat at her all day until she can get her hands on you is knowing what kind of high-end lingerie you have on. Hyorin’ll know what you put on in the morning, and the thought of you in whatever lace or silk garments she probably bought you haunts her all day. Honestly, you in lingerie is just her kink.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) As much as she likes the B in BDSM, Hyorin definitely isn’t okay with hurting you. She’s got safe words and everything set up, she’s not into the pain kinks or anything. Some light hair pulling or spanking is her limit on that. The one time Hyorin accidentally scratched you hard enough to draw blood, and she damn near cried, she’s a precious bub, no whips and chains with her.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) Listen, anyone that likes girls, knows damn well having done-up nails is not a good combination with fingering someone. Plus we’re talking about one of the rappers, Hyorin’s tongue skills are no joke, oral is one of her go-to teasing methods.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Hyorin’s pretty smack dab in the middle of the spectrum. Depending on the day, she can vary, but usually she’s fairly average. Not so much rough, as she is firm. More sensual and loving than just pure fucking.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) Honestly quickies really don’t exist in a relationship with Hyorin lmao. It’s just not possible with how much she likes to draw it out and tease you and fool around. It’s all or nothing with her.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) Hyorin’s a pretty open for messing around in the bedroom, she’s down to play around. In terms of say, fucking outside of your home, Hyorin is pretty firm on that being a no-go. The risk of getting caught isn’t really a turn on of hers, and definitely isn’t something an idol wants caught doing. But that’s not to say she doesn’t enjoy messing with you in more public ways. A pair of vibrating panties frequently make an appearance, but in less risky situations. She’s more inclined to have you wear them while she holds the remote when you’re out shopping or on a casual dinner, definitely isn’t going to play the game of chance if she’s taking you to an event. Risky but in a more cautious way, that’s Hyorin.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) Perks of dating an idol; they work out. Between practice, actually going to the gym, their schedule, performing, and all while in heels, you can expect Hyorin to be able to fuck you into next week. Better clear your afternoon because with her, you can count on there being multiple rounds that can span anywhere from 30 minutes to hours. Pray for strength, y’all gonna need it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Being the little shit she is, you can expect Hyorin to have a huge decent collection hidden away for you two. Most things are for bondage, she’s got lots of ropes and blindfolds of various colors and fabrics, way more vibrators than one person should have, and a mini riding crop for the few days when you’re being a little brat. Nothing really wild, there’s no 15 inch dildo or anything, don’t worry.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Hyorin’s definitely one of the more cheeky, and teasing girls, may god have mercy on your soul. I feel like she’s one that could just spend hours between your legs, drawing orgasm and orgasm out of you with her silver tongue until you’re a shaking and begging mess and then she’ll have mercy on you. Maybe.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) Okay am I the only one that lowkey has a fetish for Hyorin’s like...deeper/raspy voice? Her voice is pure perfection. Gives me actually shivers down my spine. The girls got a set of pipes on her, if you want any chance at keeping her quiet, you’re going to have to invest in a ball gag or something. Hyorin’s a talker, loud gasps and moans and ‘fuck! oh fuck, please!’ drip from her mouth like honey. She’ll definitely be heard throughout the house if you’re not alone...

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) Lmao can you imagine her breaking a nail in bed? A little too excited at the idea of tying you up, the thick silk ropes slipping through her fingers and as she’s tying a firm knot, her nail snaps off and you have to stop for a solid 3 minutes until you finish laughing your asses off. I’d cry if my nail broke tbh.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) I don’t think this game was meant for girls...I bet Hyorin is one of those bad bitches that wears high end lacy lingerie 24/7 if that counts for anything.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) I feel like Hyorin would be one of the most affectionate girlfriends of all time, whether it’s just lovey dovey stuff or sex, she’s attached to your hip all day, every day. She’s definitely one that’ll have a higher than average sex drive, she’s on you every chance she gets...Buckle up buddy you in for the ride of a lifetime.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Hyorin doesn’t wear out easily. Let’s be real, any person that spends their lives in heels has the power to crush the universe in the palm of their hand, sex ain’t going to make her tap out that quick. She won’t tire out enough to need to sleep, but she’s a massive cuddler let’s be real. Looks like she could punch your face right off but cuddles you like a teddy bear. Cherish those cuddles. They’re golden.

#sistar #hyorin #sistar scenario #hyorin scenario #sistar smut #hyorin smut #sistar reactions

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