#i cleaned out the drains preventively a few times in the past couple weeks but today is the first day of somewhat heavy wind and rain

[coquelicoq]

yeah sex is great but have you ever unflooded your street by removing leaves from the storm drains using the litter-grabber tool you bought from lowe's two weeks ago for that exact purpose?

[psychdeliks]

V. Don't We All Just Suffer More in Imagination than in Reality

Did you think you could escape it?

Studying, school, stress, sleep, grades, validation. In the course of my entire life, studying was never deemed to be exciting or fun. There would be a couple times where I would try to excessively romanticize my study sessions, blasting Clair de Lune slowed and reverb or listening to some dark academia playlist from Youtube to feel like an 18th century scholar during the Enlightenment. Despite these fastidious efforts, my study sessions always seemed to be more tiresome and draining than fulfilling. Because of this negative reinforcement of belief towards studying, my mind would literally do anything to not study. I would choose to go out with my friends, bake, cook, read, clean my room, scroll in Tiktok for four hours, or plan the course of my whole life for the 12th time. I would resort to literally anything to escape a study session and its lack of a dopamine hit. I mean what was the use of allocating my limited time to something that did not even fulfill me?

Although after a series of feelings of anxiousness before a deadline, I asked myself if I really have to feel this all the time. Because what, there were deadlines every week, so am I meant to be anxious weekly? Delaying these tasks did far from relieving me because the deadlines felt like they were chasing me in my head, whispering in my ear that I had not done them yet. I felt guilty, and I felt that I could not respect myself and my sense of accountability towards myself. Then, I realized that I will be studying my entire life, as I plan to go to medical school. I might as well learn and teach myself how to make the experience an enlightening and fulfilling one.

The Rising Action, It Actually Might Last Forever...

I decided to change things up because I realized how procrastination was deeply rooted with my feelings of depression. When I tell myself that I would do something but I did not, I lose respect towards myself. It's the same if someone keeps making empty promises towards you, it's logical to choose not to trust them anymore. I also decided to not let studying dictate my life, I will be in control and let my life dictate my study habits.

When I started to accept studying as a peaceful and intimate activity, I started to develop study habits. My study habits are organized a few minutes after I wake up. I already have a calendar of the deadlines and exams, thus I allocate tasks and to-do lists per day up until the deadline or exam, so that I would be able to study or do the requirements bit by bit each day. Then on individual days, I have a timeline of the day and will paste the tasks on the specific time in which I am free. I do not want study sessions to prevent me from experiencing life thus I have study sessions in short intervals, but daily. If I am about to study for an exam, I plan days ahead on the specific things that I will need to do to prepare for the exam, such as writing notes or compiling the notes. This is so that on the day of the study session, I will not be overwhelmed as everything is already arranged in order, compiled in one place. While studying, I normally like to go to Youtube and watch Study With Me videos that incorporate 25-5 Pomodoro technique. This means that I study for 25 minutes, rest for 5 minutes, and repeat until the session is done. I say all of these, but this is the ideal. I cannot say that I am still 100% consistent daily because there are times when life really just happens, so I think I will always be improving but never really reach a specific climax into my studying habits.

Self-Regulated Learning

In the Psych O'clock topic, the speaker focused on the topic of Self-Regulated Learning. She mentioned that self-regulated learning gives individuals the ability to learn outside the environments of school, and that procrastination is not supportive of it. I learned that time-management is a good school, and a good tip for this is to schedule readings for every particular subject on the same day and same time each week. Tasks are meant to be proximal, specific, and challenging, and positive reinforcement should be used when starting a difficult task. With the aspects of self-regulated learning, I realized that I had truly understood the meaning of why procrastination cannot be done for self-regulated learning. When I procrastinate, I do not actually learn or understand the lessons, I only memorize them which is the shallowest form of learning. Self-regulated learning aims to get deep with the lessons, so that the learner would be able to connect the lessons to other lessons and to their life. When it comes to situations wherein an individual does not like the topic that they are studying, the speaker advised the individual should look for a specific aspect in which the individual is interested in, to at least start the studying session with curiosity. Overall, self-regulated learning focuses on the learning of learning, to optimize learning and to make learning an environment of curiosity and enlightenment, not burnout and distress. With regards to self-regulated learning, I can say that I have implemented many things mentioned such as making my tasks proximal, specific, and challenging, as I make each task's instructions specific to prevent from being overwhelmed. The podcast also made me realize that procrastination is truly an enemy when it comes to studying as it creates the illusion that studying is a stressful experience that causes more suffering than learning. To be able to create an environment of learning, and to learn how to learn optimally is extremely important even outside the realm of academics. We learn each day, it is so much more effective to find a way that works for you and use it. I believe that self-regulated learning is effective for me. I never knew there was a specific terminology to what had truly benefited me in my study habits.

Why did I write about my study habits? What is the significance of study habits in my life?

Writing about my study habits and its significance means a lot to me because studying has brought me an immense amount of stress. It has caused emotions of anxiety and depression, but in reality it was just my methods of studying that brought me to the perception that I was suffering. In reality, studying is a work of art. It is something that can be refined so that one can perceive life in a much more optimal way.

References

What is Self-Regulated Learning? (n.d.). Develop Self-Regulated Learners. https://serc.carleton.edu/sage2yc/self_regulated/what.html

Word Count: 1098 words

May 14, 2023

0 notes

[kj-1130]

Broken-Collapse pt2

TW//Mentions of rape/assault//TW

Main Masterlist

     “We wouldn’t have let you jump, (y/n). You don’t deserve that.”

     “You don’t understand. They have connections and as soon as they step out of those cells, I am a dead man walking. I’d rather die at my own hands than theirs, so yes you should’ve let me jump.” 

     You pushed out of Olivia’s arms and ran into the bathroom. Walking into a stall, you locked it, slid down the wall, and started scratching your arms like crazy. You wanted to be grounded. You wanted to feel the pain. You wanted to see blood. You just wanted to be in control. 

-

     Amanda, Barba, and Oliva watched as you stormed off. The blonde was quick to follow, knowing how much damage you could do to yourself in just a short amount of time. 

     She heard the pants that were coming out and the occasional sniff. Walking towards the only closed door, she realized it was locked.

     “(Y/n)? Sweetheart, I need you to open this door for me.”

     The detective faintly heard her sergeant come in but kept her focus on the distraught girl inside the stall. 

     “N-no. I-I need to d-do it. Just le-let me do it.”

     Both women could hear the franticness in your voice. 

     “Sweetie please just open the door. Let us help you.”

     There was no answer. Your sobs only grew louder and breaths more distressed. Neither of them wanted to break the door so Rollins decided to slide underneath it and ignore how unsanitary it was. 

     She saw that your scratching had already broken skin and there was blood caking up on your arms. The detective quickly unlocked the door before grabbing your wrists and pulling them up, preventing you from hurting yourself any further.  

     Liv saw what was happening so she hurriedly went on the search for a first aid kit. 

     Rollins sat there, whispering reassurances while you were openly sobbing and whimpering in her chest. 

     “Breathe, honey, just breathe.”

     You shook your head and kept hyperventilating as Liv came back with something to clean your wounds. 

     “It hurts. It hurts so bad.”

     Amanda took a deep breath and assisted you in standing up. She led you to the sinks and helped you sit on the counter with the sergeant’s help.

     The older woman cleaned your arms while you dropped your head onto the blonde’s shoulder. She rubbed your back and guided you through some breathing exercises. 

     “I’m tired.”

     “You can take a nap soon-”

     “No, I’m tired.”

-

     You sat on the couch in Amanda’s apartment, staring blankly at the tv. She was right next to you but it felt like the distance between the two of you was miles considering you were off in your own world. 

     A light rub on your shoulder brings you back to earth and you realize Amanda is crouch’s in front of you. You didn’t even flinch which the blonde noticed and she gave a small smile. 

     “I ordered some Chinese food. You need to eat something.” 

     The detective lifted up her hands before bringing them to yours and helping you get up. 

     During dinner, Amanda was gently coaxing you to eat at least half of what was on your plate before you could go to bed. You were convinced that the food was somehow poisoned and not safe for you to eat—even though you knew she wouldn’t do that to you—and it had been so long since you last had a meal, that you rarely had an appetite and sometimes just the thought of food disgusted you. 

     With much persuasion and hesitance, you started to take a few bites. It was then you realized how hungry you actually were. Throughout the evening, you and Amanda chatted a bit which took your mind off of the case and your mental exhaustion for a while. 

     It was about 7 pm when you could barely stand, resulting in the detective changing your bandages, then leading you to the guest bedroom. 

     She tucked you in, telling you to come to her if you needed, before turning off the lamp and exiting the room. 

-

     It was 2 am and you were lying wide awake. You thought you’d be out like a light the moment your head hit the pillow considering all that happened today; but nope. All you had done was twist and turn; thinking about those sick smirks that were resting on their faces. Their yellow teeth and alcohol tinted breath. The look in their eyes that said ‘I’m coming for you.’ 

     Before you could even give it a second thought, you were on your way to Amanda’s room. The door was open, so you went in and started calling her name before poking her in the side. 

     She grumbled before rolling over to face you. Immediately, she was alert, thinking something was wrong, but you shook your head. 

     “I-I couldn’t sleep. C-can I stay here w-with you?” 

     The blonde’s eyebrows raised to her hairline. You took her surprised silence as rejection and started to back out of the room slowly. 

     “N-never mind. D-don’t worry about it.” 

     This time, the older woman was the one shaking her head. She reached out and grabbed your wrist. She felt you tense for a second before relaxing and walking forward. 

     “Hey, no. It’s fine. C’mon.” 

     She lifted the covers as an invitation into her bed. You reluctantly crawled in and got settled. She could still see the hesitance in your eyes and slowly wrapped her arms around you. Once again, you tensed before relaxing with a deep breath. 

     You felt Amanda give you a light kiss on your hairline as you teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. 

     It was the first night in a long time that you dreamt of the roses instead of the thorns. 

-     

     You stayed with Amanda for a week before the state practically forced you to go into foster care. They said ‘you weren’t in any immediate danger,’ anymore. You had been there for only a few days before they sent you to a foster family. 

     Something in your gut told you this was going to go bad. But it didn’t matter. Because no one listens to you. And if someone did, it was always too late. 

-

     It was your first day with your new foster family. It was a woman and who she claimed was her fiancé. She seemed kind of familiar to you; it was on the tip of your tongue but you just couldn’t remember where you’ve seen her. 

     At first they appeared to be a normal and loving couple, but they always say looks can be deceiving.

     By the second day, you were locked in your new room, aka a storage closet. It was cold and probably moldy. You were hungry seeing as they hadn’t given you food since lunch yesterday. 

      You were huddled up in a corner rocking back and forth when the man busted through the door and started to drag you out by the arm with no explanation whatsoever. He was pulling you so hard, it felt like he dislocated your shoulder. 

     The buff man practically pushed you down the stairs and roughly led you to the couch. When you looked up, you felt all the blood drain from your face. 

     It was them. They were here for revenge. 

     You just wanted Amanda. Was that too much to ask?

-

     Things continued like this for a week. Adam Johns and Michael Pierce were there everyday, waiting for you downstairs. 

     They would beat you then proceed to have sex with your limp, unconscious body. You thought it hurt the first time but this...this was unbearable. Sometimes, you’d disconnect mentally and just go into a state of nothingness. You didn’t feel, you couldn’t hear; it was just nothing. You wished that you could feel nothing all the time and leave this life. But you couldn’t. This was reality; your reality. And there was nothing you could do about it.

     Should’ve let me jump

-

     The blonde detective was walking from the cafe, on her way to work when she heard whimpers nearby. 

     She walked towards the sound with her hand hovering above her holster, just in case. She surveyed the area and what she saw broke her heart. 

     “Oh, sweetheart.” 

     “I told you they were going to come for me.”

-

     Rollins called Liv and told her the news. She immediately took you to the hospital, hoping that this time you could get a rape kit and put those bastards away for good. 

     She went into the room you were resting in and immediately saw your disheveled state. She was quick to run over and pull you in her arms. 

     That was all it took for you to completely break down. All you wanted these past few weeks was a loving touch; someone who would vow to take care of you no matter how broken or disconnected you seemed to be. All you wanted was Amanda. She was there when no one else was. She showed you the most affection since your mother died. 

     “We’re gonna put those bastards away for good. They’ll never be able to hurt you again. I promise you.” 

     For some reason you believed her. 

-

     “Manda c’mon! We’re gonna be late!” 

     “Okay, okay! I’m coming.” 

     It had been almost a whole year since you were last assaulted and you’ve been living with Amanda since. She was an excellent mother to you and you couldn’t have asked for a better life. 

     Admittedly, it was tough on both of you at first; you had to get used to someone helping and taking care of you as well and Amanda had to care for a child which is already a tough job let alone a child with major trauma. But the two of you made it work. 

     In weird ways, you bettered each other. 

     The detective came down the hall and grabbed her purse before walking towards you and swinging her arm across your shoulders. 

     “Finally. You know those hooligans can gobble up a whole 3 course meal in a span of 10 minutes. We’ll be lucky if an appetizer is left.” 

     The woman chuckled at your dramatics before heading towards the door with you in tow. 

     Living with your newfound parent made you happy; an emotion you had forgotten how to feel. The squad made you happy. 

     ‘I’m glad I didn’t jump.’

-------------

The ending lowkey sucks ngl. Hope you all liked it though!

[talesofphantombandits]

Zero to Six ~ I’ll Fight to be Apart of this Family - Edited Version. Part 5.

Characters: Four X Zero (OC)

Summary: Zero was the first person to be ‘saved’ by One, she was his first honorary Ghost. Her knowledge in tech meant she got the role of ‘Hacker’ she recruited new team members, looked for missions and locations and made sure every security measure was looked at. You know normal hacker spy stuff. But her tough up bringing meant that if needs be she could fight, she was maybe even better than some people on the team knew. But due to One’s protectiveness over her she had to stay hidden, she was more of an actual ghost than the rest of the team was. This didn’t mean she couldn’t have her fun though, over the months of being with the full team she had formed quite a passionate love/ hate relationship with the handsome Four. Who knows what sparks would fly if they were ever to meet. Warnings: Slight swearing, some suggestive flirting in later chapters.

Tagg list: (I know this is a edit of my original story but if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.) @raylan-c​, @angelic-demonss 

“Are we just not going to discuss the stranger in the room? why is the bartender here?” Four smirked at Zero. She in turn just raised her eyebrow at the blonde haired beauty, daring him to continue. “And why is Five giving her first aid?” 

The room went silent, everyone was looking at Zero like she was the enemy, and in a way she was. This group of people were the closest thing she had to family and yet she was an impostor, an outsider who’s voice was the only thing the team had ever heard that’s the only thing they knew her by. She hoped One would forgive her for what she was about to do.

Zero coughed away any last nervous about coming clean. "You know for what you guys do, you are all so dumb sometimes."

Zero in return heard a hiss, her head snapped to the direction it came from. She was faced with One, his face and neck had gone completely red with how angry he was.  A look that told Zero to shut her gob if she knew what was good for her. 

"What?!" Was she really that surprised? It was One after all, did she really think he’d just let her spill the beans right here, right now when he’d kept her away for so many years. 

"She, she just stumbled in here after the bar fight, and the doctor couldn't resist helping her." Zero looked from One appalled, to Five who was just as taken a back as Zero was. Her eyebrows furrowed as she gave a concerning look between the both of them. 

Zero couldn't help but clock onto the suspicious glare that Two was giving her. She definitely knew the truth, she was an incredibly smart woman and Zero wouldn’t be shocked if she didn’t know the moment she walked into the room. She looked back to One who she could tell was getting more and more worried over the glances everyone in the room was giving Zero.

"Your name was Lilly right?" One asked marching up to Zero and grabbing her hand, but Zero shrugged it off "Come on I'll take you home."

Everyone was looking at One like he'd lost his mind, the team was supposed to be a secret so why would he offer to take a stranger home? The air was so thick in the kitchen that even a knife wouldn’t cut it.  To make matters worse Four was starring Zero down with such ferocity she thought those ocean blue eyes she’d only seen in photo’s would melt her to the ground. She just raised her eyebrows at the man again, more threatening this time. Zero was brought back by the tug on her arm, she hissed back at One but jumped down off the counter anyway. As she slowly made her way pasted Five she quietly thanked her for being there to help her as best she could for the night. 

“Who is she One?” Three pressed on, One looked like he would explode any moment, the man who never seemed to make such stupid mistakes had nearly revealed one of his biggest secrets. “No one, she’s no one. Just a normal bartender.” Zero stopped abruptly which also dragged One to a stop as his hand was still around her arm.  When he whipped around she took the opportunity to strike the man straight across his dumb face. 

One looked at her shocked, she herself was in shock at what she had just done. Had she actually just assaulted him? The man that had saved her life all those years ago, gave her food and shelter, she owed him everything and she had just straight up assaulted him. She looked at her hand that now slightly stung in shock, as did everyone else in the room.  One’s shock only lasted a couple of seconds before his face turned stony cold and once again he latched onto Zero’s arm and headed towards the door. 

After everything that just happened Zero couldn’t help but still be memorised as she approached Four, he was breath taking, a beautiful sight to look at. It was almost like looking into the blinding sun that eventually you had to tear your sight away from, in case of damage to the eyes.

She felt a wave of sadness overcome her suddenly, she had been so close to Four actually knowing who she was, she’d been close to the whole team knowing it was her. God even one normal conversation with him probably wouldn't have satisfied her enough but it would have been a start at least. Yet One just had to take even that away from her, while she was grateful for everything One had done for her, he was still in turn hurting her.  What she really needed was a real family and she had found that in these guys but One was always in the way.  If her only way was to fight to be apart of this family, then so be it.

"Hurry up" One snapped out angrily, there was definitely going to be consequences for hitting him and she knew it. But she was done being alone.

Zero looked back at Five who was still in shock and what looked like awe, she seemed to blink back to a little normality when she caught Zeros eye again. She gave Zero a ‘You’ll be okay’ look and a little nod, Zero was happy to know that she at least had Five to rant to afterwards when everything with One had settled. 

As Zero got closer and closer to the little blonde shit leaning on the door frame she swore she could see him smirking at her, she had to also fight the urge to slap him into next week as well, he’d just seen it first hand so he should be scared. But as she crossed the thresh hold of the hotel kitchen his hand that was hanging by his side brushed against hers and it felt like lightning shooting up her arm, across her shoulder and up the side of her neck.  She tried not to show the shiver it sent down her spine but the urge was taking over her. She met his eyes again and to her surprise she saw the same reaction but he quickly hid it.  A sudden desired to leave struck her so she decided to just keep walking after One, who had steamed ahead of her.

Once outside she felt like the mist in her mind had cleared a little, but as soon as she saw One angrily waiting beside his car she suddenly felt all the anger rush back. "What the actual fuck One?!" She screamed marching her way to the passenger door.

He opened up his side of the car. "Shut up and get in the car." He said calmly which scared her more than if he had shouted it at her, he got in the drivers seat but slammed the door shut which made her jump in turn. Zero just huffed, not wanting to get in more trouble than she was already in.

"Where are you taking me?" She sighed defeated.

"Home." He said shortly.

"Why?, why did you do that?"

"Do what? A better question is why did you hit me?!" He didn't look at her but she could tell with every word he spoke he was getting more angry.

"Okay in my defence, you were being a dick! you make me think I was finally becoming apart of the team, which then you revealed was just a ‘mistake’ I think you’d also feel like punching someone if you thought you were finally getting the family you deserved just to have them ripped away from you in the same moment!" I tried so hard to not to scream my lungs out at him but the more I spoke the harder it got.

"You knew that they weren't suppose to meet you! Why are you suddenly surprised. I told you when we first made the team that this was how it was going to be and you agreed!" One spat back.

"I did agree! but I was still in a bad place at that time and I wasn’t looking for friends let alone a whole family, I didn’t know that I was actually going to find a sense of security in these group of strangers did I!” The tears started to stream down Zeros face, she could taste the saltiness of her tears with every drop. “I want to go back! I want to complete the rest of the mission, I’ve come this far there is no way I’m bailing out now, just to go sit in that apartment manning the coms by myself for the rest of eternity." 

"No." He deadpanned, which made Zero even more angry. Had he not listened to anything she had just said to him? Did he not see just how much this mattered to her.

"One I’m not afraid to knock you out and drive there myself, I think I just proved that back in the kitchen." He just raised his eyebrows at her, like it was a challenge. "Come on One! why are you doing this to me? Why are you keeping me hidden? What do you gain from it."

"Because your job is best done in a flat somewhere, anywhere. Where no one can trace you."

"Bullshit!" Zero screamed which made One forcefully pulled the car over to the side of the road, the suddenness of the stop made her surge forward a little but luckily her seat belt prevented her from travelling any further forward.

"Please just tell me the truth." She said quietly, by this point she was drained physically and emotionally. "Why do you keep me away? and I don't want any of your bullshit. You and I both know I can do my work in any environment."

"I just want to keep you safe." One kept his focus straight ahead, staring out of the windscreen into the darkness.

"What do you mean? Since when have you ever cared about anyone's safety on this team?" I asked confused.

One had few rules, but one of the main rules that One lived by was if anyone gets stuck on a mission they are to be left behind. The team can never be exposed, so if one of them gets left behind because of capture or injury then it's just the price the team has to unfortunately pay.

"You were the first person I found." He slowly turned his head to look at Zero, this was the first piece of real emotion she’d ever seen from the man. She just looked at him confused and rightly so. 

"Why does it matter who came first? I thought you weren't meant to care about any of us?"

"I’m not." He shrugged now trying to seem like he wasn’t intrested in the conversation anymore, hoping she’d drop the subject. "But you were the first member of the team, You were in a very bad situation when I found you. I do actually have human feelings you know and I guess, In a way I grew fond of you."

Zero didn’t know what to feel, was she actually touched by this? She’d known One for a few years now and this was the most emotion she’d ever seen the man show, although she did think of him as closed off and cold he’d still saved her so in some way she rested him. "So why keep me away?"

"I didn't want you to ever get hurt, It would hurt too much to leave you behind if you got stuck. But it's a price i'd have to pay."

"Then don't, what you’re saying is that deep down, somewhere in that cold heart of yours you do actually care for this team you’ve created. So change the rule. We all need to be there for each other, especially now." I said reaching out to him.

"You know I can't do that. The mission comes first." His voice grew cold again and she knew she’d never see his vulnerable side again, shrugging off her hand he turned away to stare back out into the darkness.

"Then at least take me back to the team. I can work at the base, I don't want to be alone anymore One." He looked at her dead in the eye. "I’m starting to go stark raving mad staying in those apartments by myself not seeing anyone for years on end takes a toll on a person."

"You're hurting me more by keeping me away from them."

They both sat there for a moment in silence as Zero watched the cogs in One’s head turn, she thought if she pushed enough maybe, just maybe she’d get her way for once.

"Fine.” Did he just agree? “But I’m warning you now, if you get left behind on a mission, or injured I’m not coming back for you." He started up the car again, eerily calm It always annoyed her to no end that she could never figure this man out.

"I've known that since day one." He didn’t say another word as he turned the car around and sped off.

When they reached the base she was shocked to see just how many old and broken down planes One had collected over the years. "You’re still collecting them I see"

"Even got one or two that actually work." He mused.

It may have seem like a childish thought given the circumstances but Zero honestly couldn’t wait to explore every single aircraft in the graveyard. One had made it up the long dirt road by the time Zero came back to her senses, the car stopped and she could see a big crate in front of her and standing outside the only door was a great big dog. 

"Hey boy it's fine, she's with me." The dog then ran to One’s side and he started to pet him affectionately.

I just scoffed, raising my eyebrows at him. “What?” 

“So the dog gets your affection but we don’t?” Zero grabbed her chest, gasping pretending he’d hurt her heart but One just rolled his eyes at her and told her to stop being so dramatic. He then guided her up to an aeroplane that had a cartoon of a ghost with three lightning bolts shooting out of its hand near the entrance.

Zero laughed to herself. "I like that!" Pointing to the symbol.

"It’s in honour of you and your spooky shit." She looked at him shocked. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

She let him walk ahead of her so she could get her bearings, what came next was going to be a big shock to her system.

"One, you're back! I’m going to need you to spill, who was the bartender? Come on you’re never nice to anyone! Let alone giving a stranger a ride home." As soon as Zero heard that annoyingly sexy British accent she stopped dead in her tracks.

"I'll let her tell you herself."

Then there was silence. It finally hit her that she was about to meet the only family she’d ever known.

She was mostly scared because all she wanted was for them to like her, which she knew they already did but now, seeing and being with them in the flesh she didn’t want to mess their connection up. Especially with Four. She couldn’t deny that her and Fours connection even just through coms was a strong one, she just didn’t know what that connection meant yet but she was definitely excited to find out, she just hoped her feelings for him aren’t one sided.

She took a deep breath to calm herself, then rounded the corner.

"Hey guys." She smiled at all their awestruck faces, she gave a little awkward waving but internally scolded herself afterwards.

Everyone but Two looked at her in shock, she just had to laugh, that woman was too smart for her own good.  "Well darling, the anticipation is killing us." Fours dark eyes were trained on Zero as he leaned on the table, she swore in that moment her legs turned to jelly.

"Well if you'd actually let me speak you'd find out sooner, wouldn’t you monkey boy." Her words seemed to snap something in him as he shot straight.

Everyone else just laughed as the realisation of who they were meeting struck them. She just smirked at them all, finally she could be in on jokes, eat with them and just get to be around the people she cares about most in this cruel world.

"Zero?!" Three said enthusiastically, bounding towards her and scooping her up into a bear hug.

She felt like all the air was being squeezed out of her but she didn’t mind one bit. "Glad to see there are actually some smart people around here.” She chocked out. 

“Three can you please release Zero, you’re literally suffocating our only hacker.” One said annoyed while he was fiddling with some magnets. 

Three let her down and she just smiled, patting him on the shoulder to let him know she was okay. "Sorry! Sorry, I’m just so excited to finally meet you mami!" He proceeded to kiss both of her cheeks.

She just laughed at how adorable he acted in person, Three had always been one of her favourite ghosts. He wasn’t the smartest and most of the time made the worst decisions but he was sweet and funny and wouldn’t waste a single second if you were in trouble, he’d be by your side. 

"Well dam." Four was leaning with his back against the table, arms crossed and staring Zero down. Her eyes travelled to his and she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

Someone in the room, Zero couldn’t tell who coughed awkwardly which snapped both Zero and Four out of their intense staring competition. 

“So, the new mission?” 

[vminity21]

Even in the Rain | knj [Part 1]

Pairing: friend!Namjoon X female!reader, exboyfriend!Jimin X bakeryreviewer!reader, friendshiptolovers!au, bakery!au, forbiddenlove!au

Word Count: 18,482

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warning(s):  foul language use, angst involving an ex-boyfriend, mention of alcohol on multiple occasions, mention of infidelity, mention of smoking, eventual smut (potentially in part 2), slow burn, taehyung and jimin are jerks in the story, based on the kdrama, Something in the Rain, i do not own the rights or the show; Rated: pg 13

Summary: Namjoon has been in love with you for what seems like forever. Despite you being five years older, him being your best friend’s brother, on top of your brother, Kim Seokjin, being one of Namjoon’s best friends- nothing will stop him from getting you to notice him, and he also will not let your relentless ex-boyfriend stand in the way of him winning your heart. You, on the other hand, an observer of bakeries notices the feelings Namjoon is starting to etch upon your heart; amidst this budding love, your mind is also confused upon the strange incidents happening between the bakeries planning to franchise together. But, who would want to jeopardize the businesses?

Credit to: @suhdays​ for such a beautiful cover!

The dreary clouds serenade the atmosphere with panging rain droplets while a faint brush of a sigh escapes your lips. Shoving loose hair from your ponytail behind your ears, you steady the umbrella above you- knuckles white from the grip you have on the handle. Once again, you’re scheduled to observe Jeon’s Bakery in downtown Busan- a thriving shop owned by the richest couple ever known, soon being passed down to their eldest son, Jung-hyun, whom you’ve had the pleasure of knowing throughout the years.

Stepping into the bakery- the cozy atmosphere brings a warmth you’ve been needing since you woke up this morning- shaking your umbrella through the crack of the glass door onto the sidewalk, you then return to face the dimly lit décor, leaning your umbrella along the wall. Aromas of freshly baked pastries waft in your direction while you inhale a hint of strawberry. Glistening sweets line beneath the glass cases while heated lights keep them appealing; the other side holds numerous cakes, decked with different colors or flavors- your stomach growling at the desire to purchase a treat or two before leaving.

“Ah, welcome,” Jung-hyun greets with a brief handshake and bow, though the nervous tension crinkles at the edges of his eyes. You, being one of the top members of the corporation, who franchises with Jeon’s Bakery, your reviews are very important- and, with the plans of opening another bakery along with a competing bakery on the other side of town, Jung-hyun is aware of the pressure his family line has to maintain a clean, yet successful business. Of course, with the hopes of the competing bakery, Ji Woo’s Café, signing the contract to officially set the opening date.

“How do you do,” you nod, hearing the padding footsteps of the employees rushing to stand at your presence. One, you recognize to be the youngest brother, Jeon Jungkook, folding his hands in front of him, while his eyes remain cast downward- brown hair swooping over his forehead while he timorously chews at the corner of his mouth. “My, how he’s grown,” you smile, his wide stare greeting yours with a timid bow.

“Just turned eighteen nearly two months ago,” Jung-hyun nods at his brother with pride before returning his gaze to you, “Next thing I know, it’ll be me handing the business to him,”

You can’t help the feeling of dread at how many years you’ve been a part of your job- essentially instructing cleaning reviews or food violations that are still not being met- and you hardly ever admit the gray hairs that you’ve remained to consistently pluck since your twenty-eighth birthday not too long ago. With a long glance around the bakery, you bring your clipboard forward while the click of your heels gives some sort of sound other than the rain prodding the rooftop.

“It is a bit dusty in this section here,” you run a finger over a shelf dawning coffee mugs and other trinkets, rubbing your fingertips together while an employee sprints with a damp cloth to clean the area you pointed out, “And the floor needs to be swept more thoroughly, I can see some crumbs even from this distance,” you hate sounding so nitpicky, but your boss Kim Taehyung, can be, and he expects a lot out of these businesses, so you maintain your duty in making sure everything is spotless, especially since you don’t want anyone, especially the Jeons’, to have to deal with Taehyung’s wrath.

Reaching the cold foods section, you tamper through the packages to check expiration dates, noticing a few will be out of date within the next week, “And, also, Mr. Jeon, make sure to check the expiration dates often, we want customers to be given exactly what they’re paying for without the risk of stomach upset,”

“Yes ma’am,” he bows obediently, while you study the rest of the store before turning to face every employee. A young girl, one who has avoided eye contact nearly your entire visit, cuddles into her thin sweater, your eyes falling to notice her open-toed shoes, “I know accidents may happen from time to time, but with heavy machinery, we use in the back to create such desserts, closed-toed shoes are a must,” though when first starting the job, you used to be afraid to single individuals out, with so many years of experience, it has become immune. “Let this be a warning, okay?” The girl nods in shame, though you give her a look of understanding.

One more detailed sweep, you give Jung-hyun a copy of the notes you made with the direction to continue his work. Reaching for your umbrella, you notice the heavy rain has died down to a soft sprinkle, and once the smell of the rain fills your nostrils, you still open your umbrella in an attempt to protect your outfit since you will be returning to work to finish out the day.

The familiar ‘ding’ of a text tone distracts once your clicking heels round a street where Jeon’s Bakery officially disappears behind you- retrieving it from your pocket, you realize it’s a text from your almost year-long boyfriend, Park Jimin.

Jiminie: ‘Dinner tonight? I think we need to talk,’

Just the simple text, with just a simple intent, with a simple meaning- or what is supposed to be simple- brings a strange feeling the moment you read it. Hardly watching the direction you’re heading, you’re very thankful when the ringtone assigned to your best friend jingles, prompting you to answer immediately,

“How, did you know to call me, right at this exact moment?” Your fingers feel ice cold upon your cheek once the phone is at your ear- and the tiny pain in your stomach is hard to ignore mingled with the bundles of nerves fluttering within your system.

“Glad to know I’m number one on your mind,” your childhood best friend, Monica, teases while a knowing smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. “I’m assuming something’s up?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, brushing past a few pedestrians while your eyes cautiously trail the sidewalk to prevent from tripping over something, “It’s Jimin,”

“Hm,” Monnie hums, the crunch of a carrot sounding through the staticky phone line, “Please tell me you two didn’t fight. Again,”

If the humiliation rising within your chest isn’t obvious enough, you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily, trying to suppress the memory of the past month or two within your conscious, “He’s been going on and on about that promotion,”

“And,” Monnie adds, “Let’s not forget you’ve made it clear that you’re not planning on leaving Busan.”

“I know, I know,” the solitude of the area you’re in seems silent, way too silent, and maybe it’s due to the budding sadness. Jimin’s job is wanting to take him to Seoul- nearly 325 kilometers away from where you’ve grown up- where you’ve held a successful job- and, where your family and friends reside. The two of you have been battling it out for what feels like too long, emotionally draining you just as evenly as the stress from your job, “I just wish he would just understand my side for once,” your voice is hushed as if he can hear you, Monica nodding on the other end though you cannot see it.

“Well, how about you change his mind,” a devious tone evident in her voice, “Give him something he wouldn’t want to miss out on if you catch my drift,”

“You are such a tease,” you shake your head incredulously, “But, you have a good point,”

“Uh-huh, when do I not?”

Sauntering minutes longer past the numerous rows of shops, you end the phone call with Monica before your eyes fall upon a small boutique with mannequins adorned in glimmering dresses poised behind the glass window. Maybe an ounce of hope decides to arise, especially the second it leads you into the shop, trying on a few dresses in the mirror until you’ve made your decision.

The dress hugs all the right curves while you run your hands over the fabric- loose curls tickle your shoulders, yet the dress is modest enough to leave mystery- leave eyes lingering whilst you walk by. Except, the moment Jimin takes a seat before you, across the table within your favorite restaurant, his eyes seem to pay more attention to his wine glass rather than sweeping you. His thick lips lay in an obvious grimace, disinterest in his expression to every word you say, yet you remain unaltered, showing him no sign of notice, until he interrupts you,

“I received news today,” he clears his throat, your mouth slightly agape while your eyes widen in anticipation for what he’s about to say next, “They’re promoting me. It’s official,”

“Oh, Jimin,” you breathe, though you’re happy his job is recognizing him for his outstanding work in his job field, you can’t help the sorrow plaguing you at what you know is considered the next step, “I’m so happy for you,” you feign enthusiasm, but he sees right through you, especially when his brown eyes nearly smother your gaze with disbelief, “When- when is the big day?”

“Two weeks,” He counters, eyes falling back to his drink, “Have to clean out my apartment, and leave within two weeks,”

“Two weeks?” You’re caught off guard by the sudden answer, not even giving you enough time to process, one- that your boyfriend of nearly a year will be leaving so soon whether you move with him or not, and two- the realization that maybe, no matter how hard you try to get him to understand you, he just simply won’t. “But that’s so sudden-”

“Just come with me,” he’s exasperated, waving a hand once in the air, “If you’re really as happy for me as you say you are, you’d come,”

“Excuse me?”

“What is it about Busan that you just can’t seem to let go? We will be able to visit family if that’s what you’re afraid of,”

“Jimin, we’ve already discussed this,” you run your hands over the bridge of your nose propping your elbows onto the table, while you try with all your might to calm the anger, “I have a steady job here, one I will not be able to transfer. I’m not ready to just give up my life like this, what part of that do you not understand?” You peer through your hands, “And, I mean, if there’s anything I don’t understand, is if you can visit as often as you say you can, then how come a long-distance relationship sounds so revolting to you?”

Frustration drips from him when he leans back into his chair, eyes scoping the side of the restaurant while his lips press into a firm line. A thought that failed to occur to you from previous arguments dawns,

“Wait,” you inhale, “Are you afraid… that you’ll start seeing someone else?” When he abruptly meets your gaze, your elbows fall to your sides, “Jimin?”

Shaking his head, “Forget it,”

“Then what is it?” You question, “If not that, then what is it?” Investigating his eyes, you’re nearly brought to your knees from the heartbreak wrenching within you, “If this is something that leaves such distaste in your mouth then why not just break up with me?” Without a second thought, you stand to your feet, not even sure how you’re able to with how your body is trembling, but you maintain your balance while you thrust your trench coat on, “You know what? I’ll do the honors,”

He follows you out the door in a mild panic, though he remembers to leave cash behind to pay for the meal. Declining the ride, he offers, you can’t even speak nor look in his direction, your heart-shattering in a million pieces especially when his presence leaves without even a speck of desire to fight for you. You’re rendered speechless the entire walk of the chilly night- shooting a text to Monnie to meet you at a local bar- her treating you to multiple drinks- gulping them down with the intention of drowning in your sorrows.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to stop,” she motions for the waiter to scatter any empty glasses he can before you down your final drops, “Besides, you’re the one who dumped him, so am I missing something?”

“No,” you drag out the word, your head dizzy from the heavy buzz you feel, “You and I both know this is something that’s not easily forgettable,”

“Maybe you’re right, but really, [Y/N], you’re going to make yourself sick,”

“And what if I do? What’s it going to change?” Your words slur, while you lean onto your knuckles- your eyelids squinted in a hazy glance. Mo’s concern is all you can envision while she lightly taps your arm.

“If he were worth it, he’d stay in a relationship with you despite any distance,” her voice softens, her turning to get you to rest on her shoulder, “Besides, if I were him, I wouldn’t have let you walk away, especially with how that dress snugs your ass,”

Cackles erupt from your throat while you lean more into her frame for comfort, “Shut up, no it doesn’t,”

Flabbergasted, she pulls away just enough to stare down at your glossy eyes, “Girl, you look like a twelve outta ten, would recommend, and any asshole would be stupid to let a dime piece like you go,”

“You mean it?”

“Of course,” she wraps an arm under your shoulders to help you steady on your feet, “Now, I’m going to take you home. Your brother is coming home tomorrow as well as mine, and the last thing I need is for them to smell alcohol on your breath,”

“But, but- I’m- I’m not done yet. Just one more,”

“No! Are you insane?”

“Monnie, please, just one more. Just one-”

“Drinking isn’t going to make Jimin’s absence any less painful, now come on, you need to get home,” Reluctantly, you obey, faltering into your home while your parents, who are retired, stare at you with mirrored worry, you immediately bowing in apology before stumbling to your bedroom. The following morning hits you like an ocean wave, your head thudding while you force yourself to sit up- the shower awakens you just enough for you to function, and the minute you’re dressed with a towel wrapped around your drenched hair- you open the door to be greeted by your younger brother, Kim Seokjin.

“You look like you’ve been trampled by ten elephants,” his arms outspread while you gasp,

“Seokjin! You’re home!” Crashing into his arms, he hugs you tight, the safety you feel with him finally returning home brings serenity to the household. You haven’t seen your brother in four years with him studying abroad in America, which reminds you that it must mean Monnie’s brother, Kim Namjoon, who studied the same program as Seokjin, is home, too- though you vaguely remember your best friend making that statement last night before taking you home.

Leaning back to playfully smack his shoulder, you tease, “Don’t think I forgot about what you just said a second ago! Remember, I am your elder,”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh sounds while his shoulders shake, “By what, a few years? And don’t think I didn’t hear about you coming home wasted last night,”

With a roll of the eyes, you hear your mother starting up food in the kitchen, “It’s complicated, but,” with a quick sweep, you notice, Seokjin is wearing an outfit as if he’s about to head out, a backpack still hanging off his shoulders, “But- wait, aren’t you staying?”

“Mom, didn’t tell you? I’m moving out with one of my past friends. Remember, Hoseok?” 

“Ah,” a lightbulb clicks, “The one whose parents own the competing bakery? The one we used to raid when we were children?”

“Yes, that’s the one,”

You remember Seokjin and Hoseok were thick as thieves growing up, so with a curt nod, you elbow your brother’s side, “Good idea rooming with him, but you better visit me. I literally haven’t seen you other than through a phone screen,”

“You know I will,” He promises, “No more phone screen,”

As much as the two of you love your mother, she can be overbearing at times- and, you can’t help with how hard it is to stifle laughter as you watch her pester Seokjin as he’s leaving, “Please eat once you get there since you won’t stay for the meal I cooked- and, please text me once you arrive- remain in good health for me okay- don’t do anything you will regret-”

Seokjin waves goodbye before your mother follows you to the kitchen. Of course, she isn’t going to ignore the incident of you rummaging to make a cup of coffee in an attempt to remedy the hangover you know you deserve after how much you chugged the night before. Unaware of the situation that caused your drunken state, your shoulders tense the moment you hear his name,

“I thought you were with Jimin last night? He’s never let you drink more than one glass. Very insolent of him if you ask me,”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that anymore,” you mumble against the rim of the coffee mug.

“I guess I can forgive him this one time, invite him over sometimes so I can cook you both some dinner. It’s about time for you to settle down and marry-”

At this point, you’re increasingly aware of how late you will be to work if you continue to listen to your mom banter about your ex-boyfriend, one you can’t bring yourself to reveal in fear of disappointing your mother. Although, your father offers to give you a ride, you politely decline, making your way to the nearest station before sprinting into the building of your job.

From the poker face, Taehyung has while everyone files in to their seats, your coworkers LenLen and Shai take a quick seat on either side of you- Yoongi, handy with the technological side of the business gets the screen to load to where everyone can see it. Chairs turned in the same direction, you swallow nervously when a picture of what looks to be bags of flour are revealed to have picked up pesky moths, and the horror you feel when it’s the same store your brother’s childhood friend has grown-up knowing: Ji Woo’s Cafe.

“This,” Taehyung’s voice booms while gesturing toward the screen, “Is unacceptable.”

With slumping shoulders, everyone knows he isn’t wrong, but it’s the embarrassment of knowing this has been missed.

“Who is in charge of keeping up with this particular franchise?”

LenLen hesitates beside you though you’re of knowledge that she is, in fact, the supervisor of the Jung’s shop. You don’t even hesitate to stick up for her, promising you will get to the bottom of this ordeal being that you know the Jungs’ personally. The bus ride over doesn’t take long, but you figure it’s from the trepidation of having to face a family you haven’t seen in so many years over something that wasn’t necessarily in their control. When arriving, the first face you see is Jung Hoseok, messy hair frilly across his forehead with your brother rounding the corner putting on his apron. It takes a prolonged second for everyone to register each other’s presence, and you factor in that maybe they hired a moving company to assist in helping them unpack their belongings. Or, perhaps, Seokjin is staying with Hoseok’s parents for the time being until the two can find a place of their own. Either way, your eyes flicker between the stunned pair prompting you to clear your throat- pressing the tip of your pen onto the pad of paper upon your clipboard.

“Hello, Gentlemen, you may have been aware, but it has been brought to corporate’s attention about flour bags being infested with moths?”

Hoseok wets his lips, frantically looking over at Seokjin who shrugs his shoulders, completely oblivious to the scenario that may have taken place prior to his hiring, “Uh, yes- yes ma’am,”

“And please tell me such a discovery was not, in fact, served to our consumers?” Palms clammy, you’re surprised at how intimidating you can be but with the way Hoseok’s panicky eyes scream innocence, you know that he didn’t do anything of the sort.

“Of course not,” he stammers, your brother glaring a look though he knows you’re merely doing your job.

“Good,” you scribble a few notes of areas you noticed may need to be tidied up before handing it to him, “Just remember to always, always, keep things clean, and to always store packaging in the correct areas. I agree sometimes we can’t prevent everything, but from what I could tell from the picture, the flour wasn’t stored properly.”

“I’m so-”

Gesturing a hand to stop him, you continue, “No need for apologies, just make sure staff is trained to follow protocols. And if I overheard correctly, Jeon’s Bakery may want to franchise along with Ji Woo’s Cafe for the opening of the new store. If that’s the case, then everyone must be on the same page in order for that contract to be signed. Do I make myself clear?”

Hoseok timidly nods, you being grateful that customers haven’t waltzed in especially with it being close to afternoon; glimpsing at your brother, he swallows, nodding once in understanding. In this circumstance, guilt wedges in the crevices of your mind, especially with it, now, involving a blood relative who works within one of the stores your company partly owns. Coming off harsh isn’t who you really are, but the job forces you to be this way, especially when stressing the importance of cleanliness and statistics of sales.

You’re nearly lost in thought- reminiscing on unwanted memories of Jimin, avoiding the ache in your soul when you can’t remember the last time, you’d seen him smile. Blisters form on your feet from your heels, the pain thudding to the point you hardly notice the tall figure inching closer to your frame. In fact, you choose to ignore whoever it is, keeping your eyes ahead with the goal of making it home.

“Is that how you treat a friend you haven’t seen in years?”

“Whoa!” You jolt, whirling in the direction of the deep voice- heart hammering against your sternum while your hand flies to your chest. Dimples immediately appear in your vision while hearty laughter escapes the handsome face of none other than your best friend’s brother, Kim Namjoon. “Namjoon?” Your voice raises in glee, his trench coat loose on his frame, while his wide smile remains on his face, “How long have you been following me?”

“Who said it was me who was doing the following,” he teases while you open your mouth in fake offense,

“Kim Namjoon, yes you were!” Your smile hasn’t been so genuine other than when your brother returned home and reaching forward to playfully smack Namjoon’s arm, he promenades around you while he dodges your every move. The view to outsiders looking in would appear to be a happy couple especially with the way you chase after him, with the contrived promise of embracing him, when really you plan on tackling him for following you for however long he did.

The teasing soon leads to the pair of you agreeing to drinks and dinner- planning to catch up over the four years lost between your friendship.

“So,” your voice is chirpy after taking a long sip of your beer, the waitress settles the entrees in front of you and Namjoon, your elbows resting on either side of the plate while you peer at him over your folded hands. Seeing his face brings a spindle of turning memories- laughter with him and Monnie alongside you, getting into mischievous spouts, causing both pairs of parents in continuous bouts of worry- and the way his brown hair is neatly styled to the way his brown eyes study your every move, you are thankful for his presence, along with your brother’s, being returned to you, “Meet anyone you’ve taken a liking, to?” Namjoon’s only five years younger than you, but with the pressure of marriage being a thought- you’re uncertain if he’s tied the knot- or, more so, your question is directed to if he’s fallen for an American girl, something you’re curious to know about your friend.

A breathy laugh escapes him while he sips his drink, grabbing his fork to play with a vegetable on his plate, “Unfortunately, you’ve remained at the top of my list,” reaching for his drink, he lifts it toward you while you mimic his gesture, clinking them together while you shake your head at him,

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble, you know that?”

“Can’t remember a time it hasn’t,” he takes a bite of his pasta while you conjure up another question,

“Are you ever planning on going back? To America?” Honestly, you’re afraid of the answer, because if he says yes, then that could mean Seokjin will be following suit.

“Actually,” Namjoon carefully places his fork back on the napkin beside his plate, running the back of his hand at the corner of his mouth, “I hope to live there one day. But that’s only for when Korea gets too small for me,”

“Does Monnie know?” Crossing your arms, your appetite is suddenly lost, for the time being, the subject of anyone else disappearing from your life for a while making you feel a small wave of nausea. Namjoon’s eyes flicker to his plate before returning to your gaze which gives you an answer without any words, “You know she cares a lot for you. She’s been talking non-stop about your arrival since you left.”

“I know,” his voice trails, while he clenches his jaw, “I almost didn’t tell her Seokjin and I were coming back,”

“What? Why?”

“I just didn’t want her to worry,” his long fingers grip the handle of his mug while he swirls the contents within it, “She’s already busy enough with work, and my coworkers I’ve returned to have done enough for me, and I don’t want her to feel like she needs to contribute anything,”

“That’s her choice to make you know. You’re her brother,”

“And I care for her a lot, too. Hence, why I refuse to stress her out regardless of my arrival,”

He’s always had this aura about him that you’ve admired since knowing him. The way he refuses to let his burdens be known to the people he loves- he doesn’t want to put anyone through the trouble that he feels they shouldn’t go through. He’s so young with so much to learn, but yet, he is the one that you look up to the most, physically and figuratively, “You’re a good man, Kim Namjoon,” you coo, “Since when did you grow up so fast?”

Tilting his head, he leans forward with a taunting smirk, “And since when did you start getting gray hair?”

Gasping, you grasp a bundle of hair between your fingers while your eyes widen at him, “You take that back!” You threaten, “Are you asking for me to dig your grave?” The laughter that builds between you two is much-needed medicine that you’ve been longing for, and as the playful banter simmers, he takes a bite of his food, dapping the napkin onto his lips before speaking,

“How about you, by the way? Is there a man whose ass I need to kick?”

Squinting at him, you carefully chew your food, “Plenty.”

Offering to pay the bill, he objects, you mentioning how his sister may be upset if she were to hear that, but you make it clear that you will treat him to a meal the next time you two are to hang out. The night falls quickly, the city lights distracting visions of the stars, yet Namjoon leads you to the direction of your home, making jokes on how you never seem to break rules- or, at least, ever since you’ve gotten “old.”

When the city continues to disappear behind both of you, his large hand gently grabs yours, “Follow me,”

“Hm, what? Where?”

“Must you always question everything? Now, come on,”

Muttering under your breath, you squeeze his hand in a way to show your trust, him spreading a wired fence while you squeeze through the opening, him turning to tangle the brush along the fence as if nothing has been disturbed. “Now, can you tell me where the hell we are?”

“Behind the library. Beyond that, passing the bus station is your home,”

“How-?” You can’t help the surprise, especially when your voice carries just enough to interrupt a couple lip-locked in the distance. You’re nearly floored when you recognize the coworker being LenLen while the male, she’s clinging to happens to have strands of blonde hair revealing the face of Min Yoongi. “Holy shit,” you whisper, though it’s dark enough for the couple to not be able to see who has disrupted their peace. They jog away from the scene, while Namjoon chuckles, you wondering how long this has been going on without the corporate’s knowledge, “How did you know about this shortcut?” You change the subject, gulping at the lump in your throat.

“Do you really want me to answer that,”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you glare a suspicious look, “Oh?”

“Other than sneaking kisses to impress the ladies, I also taught Seokjin how to smoke cigarettes in high school,”

“Nam. Joon! You rascal!” You gape in surprise, “I’m telling Mom,”

“Aren’t you too old to tattle?”

“Oh, you smart ass-” He dodges your raising hand as you chase him down, “Come here you brute! Wait till I get my hands on you!” His joke brings you back to the exposed couple from earlier, which then gives you a steady reason on why you should keep your mouth shut- if anything, you are too old to dabble in drama- and if LenLen has finally found a lover who potentially will be her forever- then you will leave it as is, despite it being a work violation of dating someone within the workplace. When the jog slows to a steady pace, your home welcoming your sight, Namjoon speaks,

“Not sure if we ever get lunch breaks at the same time, but if so, you may need to remind me of all the restaurants around here,”

“Is that so?”

“Unless you want to avoid your promise on treating me,”

“How did you know?”

Eyes locking, chuckles reverberate into the breeze while he shakes his head at you, “I’m just kidding,” you finally say once you regain your senses, “Of course, I’d love to. Just text me every day when you start your lunch break. If there’s a time I happen to be heading to lunch too, then we will meet up. Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he nods, watching you sprint to type in the security code, you whirling around to wave goodbye while he returns the same gesture.

It’s crazy how beautiful you were before he left for America, and how you’ve remained with the same beauty inside and out as if he never truly left. Other than his family, your face never left his mind the moment he stepped off the plane- some may say it’s because your brother sat right beside him on the plane ride home – but, that’s not exactly the only reason.

Entering your room, your mother bombards you repeatedly with the same conversation on why you reek of alcohol, and why Jimin would let you take it too far. Openly admitting, you happened to be with someone else, your mother continues to pester on how you and Jimin need to find a compromise in order for marriage; how his family are known for their efficacious jobs, how they’re made of money, and that you would be a fool not to marry into his family. Making the excuse that you’re tired and ready for bed, she mumbles that you’re always tired, before departing your room.

Work comes with the presence of Taehyung telling everyone to go to lunch with him, all your female coworkers throwing excuses from left to right about how they can’t make it; which he demands you to join, your coworker Shai promising to tag along, so you won’t feel so alone.

Namjoon: 11:49am- Starting lunch, want to join?

Though you wish you could say yes, you avoid the text message. Following your coworkers into an elevator, surprised to discover Namjoon standing in the corner, realizing his job happens to be within the same corporation but deals with different topics. It’s awkward when your coworkers ask what food you’d like, which you say you’re not particularly picky, Namjoon shooting you a text in a tease of how your taste has even aged. You retort with a text saying to ‘Shut your yapper.’

A few days pass when you’re scheduled to visit another bakery within the city where Monnie sends you screenshots of Jimin’s Facebook page exposing that he has found another girlfriend- one he’s apparently been spoiling before his supposed trip to start a new life in Seoul. The pain seers through every inch of your chest, and it’s hard to recollect yourself enough to return to your job- admitting to yourself you probably missed spots that needed to be cleaned, yet the only tornado jumbling your thoughts are the haunting ones involving Jimin’s face- and the feelings of love you once had for him, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

“According to one of the captions, she’s moving with him,” Monica exhales, “Because dating someone for a week means you should follow them all across Korea. Honestly, [Y/N], I bet this is all a show he’s putting on, or maybe he really has been cheating-”

It doesn’t take long until a recent post is made with the location of their current date- sneaking into the parking lot, you hastily find the valet, asking for the number matching the parking spot where Jimin’s flashy car glistens beneath the starry sky. You’re uncertain of this feeling you hold, but with the anger bubbling within your pounding heart, you know you can’t let this go. The way this girl on his page praises his every move, you even noticing how young she appears, and the lingering fact of him taking her to places you’d always begged him to take you. Nor the pictures he’s flaunting of her that he never once did when he was with you, nearly brings you into a stream of unwanted tears. With all you are, you know it’s not fair. And for that, he needs to pay.

The valet hands you the keys while you ploy your happiest smile. Stepping into Jimin’s car, you pull out the gooiest lip gloss you never use, planting it beneath the passenger side along with the tearing of black pantie hose you purchased from a convenience store on your way here; even laying out a semi-tattered bra you’ve been meaning to throw away, but instead relics beneath the back seat of Jimin’s car. Returning the keys to the valet, you thank them before hiding into the brush a distance away from Jimin’s car where you watch the whole scene play out before you. Watching the girl stampede away while confusion is etched in Jimin’s staggered expression, as his mouth remains agape, doesn’t leave you with the satisfaction you hoped to gain. Instead, you find yourself sitting across from your best friend, gulping down an alcoholic beverage, her moving the glass beside her when she sees the way your eyelids flutter.

“Shouldn’t you be rejoicing?” She questions, your chest feeling emptier than it had before you gained your buzz, “You got your revenge for goodness sakes!”

“Oomf,” you plop your head into your palms before rubbing them slowly along your face, “It’s not that. I mean, Jimin got what he deserved, but that’s not the reason I feel like shit,”

“Okay?” Mo shrugs, “Then, what is it? I know I’ve pestered about your needing of higher standards of men, but really, [Y/N], you deserve so much more than a player like that,”

“I just,” you lazily sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I really thought I knew what love was, you know?” You pause, “With Jimin, the way we met, and the way we clicked at first… I guess I just don’t understand where it all went wrong. Or, what made us fall apart… Maybe, we were never in love after all,”

“Let me ask you this,” your best friend leans forward, playing with a loose string from her sleeve, she tilts her head while she investigates your hazy stance, “What is true love?”

The question isn’t one to shock you; it’s one to make you think, really looking into the depths of your memories to a person you may have experienced love with, and as your eyes flicker upon her face, the answer becomes quite clear, especially when you lean back, the realization bringing the truth you never thought you’d find, “I… I-I don’t know,”

“Exactly,” Monnie points a quick index finger in your direction.

“I’ve never been in love,” you murmur, trying to make sense of this, and wishing you would have realized it sooner.

“If you were in love with Jimin, you would have left Busan behind in a heartbeat. And, if Jimin really had been in love with you, he would have settled for a distant relationship until you made your choice. So why couldn’t either of you find a compromise?”

“Because… we didn’t want to,”

“Because neither of you wanted to,” Monnie smiles deviously before sliding your glass back to your hand that curls around it instinctively, “Now, drink up,” she says, refilling your glass to the brim. Light giggling sounds for the next hour until Namjoon walks in with the intent of checking on his sister. It’s a surprise when he sees you occupying the seat across from her, and as he teases lightly at why Monnie let you get so wasted, she then asks him to give you a ride home.

His heart flutters at the thought of once again getting to spend time with you but he refuses to show it in the slightest; hugging onto Monnie tightly, you drunkenly plant numerous kisses upon her cheeks while she ushers you into the passenger side of Namjoon’s car- you uttering slurred words of songs you hope to karaoke to whenever you see your best friend again- her punching Namjoon’s shoulder for making a joke on who’s going to pay him for being your chauffeur which then prompts him to joke on how violent the two of you are.

Silence becomes too overwhelming while Namjoon keeps his focus on the road, yet all you can think about is how the alcohol hasn’t done its job in letting you forget about your breakup with Jimin. When tears stain your cheeks, Namjoon pulls over, leaving the car until your tears dry- not wanting you to feel embarrassed for crying in his company. Though he wishes nothing more than to hold you in his arms, he knows he can’t.

Your whines to why he stopped the car are what brings him back to the driver’s side, you falling asleep the rest of the way home while he lovingly stares at the peace on your slumbering face. The way your mouth hangs open, cuddled into the corner of the window, he can’t help how cute you look, pulling out his phone to snag a quick picture.

Forgetting his ringer happens to still be on, the sound of the camera jolts you awake, you groggily wiping at your mouth while glaring a hole through his head, “Did you just?”

“No,” Namjoon nearly drops his phone from being caught in the act, sliding lower into his seat as if to hide from you. Sitting up slowly, your eyes dazed from still overcoming your nap, you peer at him shadily,

“Yes, I did, I saw it,”

“Then, why did you ask?”

“I- Hand it over,” palm up, you reach over with the operation to delete the picture, chagrin flooding your features humorously of the thought of him using it against you by posting it on social media for all your mutuals to see.

Jumping out of the car, he can’t help but laugh at your tiny frame, yet again, chasing him down while he holds the phone high above his head. There’s no hope- you can’t reach it- but that doesn’t stop you from trying, “Namjoon, you better delete it, or-”

“Or what? If only you could reach it, then I’d let you win,”

“Oh,” you groan, pressing your forehead into his chest from the exhaustion of the exercise you didn’t plan on doing, “You do realize you are disparaging your elder, correct? My bones feel cracked now thanks to you, Legs,”

He can’t help the way he smiles at you, so wide, that he nearly catches himself, hoping that you will not notice the longing he has to tilt your chin up and plant a sweet kiss to your rosy lips. The rest of the walk to your home continues in spirited bickering- him refusing to delete the picture of you until you accept the fate- igniting the promise you will get him back eventually.

It’s hard for you to look away from him once you type in your security code- the strange jitters you have in your heart at the thought of parting from him- the feeling of missing him, though you know you will see him again. He smiles at you with the same dimpled grin he always gives when looking at you- waving goodbye, you trying to decipher these feelings you’ve never felt before.

The persistent thoughts soon leave, especially when greeted at work with the panic of finding out the contract has yet to be approved for the Jeons and the Jungs to open the new bakery together.

“I thought Taehyung said it would be taken care of?” Your eyes are frantic while you search LenLen’s- her hand running through her hair to then pressing her fingertips to her lips.

“He handed me the documents to give to Yoongi to sign for the approval. I don’t- I don’t understand how it wouldn’t have gotten signed- I highlighted the words for an immediate agreement.”

The tension you bury from the knowledge of LenLen and Yoongi’s relationship makes you think he would have gotten the papers considering it was a love interest who delivered them to him. Shaking your head, you briskly walk to his office, him immediately standing to his feet- numerous folders holding documents crowd his desk, “Hello, Mr. Min, I gather you’re doing well?”

His brown eyes seem alarmed, his shoulders tensing in your presence from the way you hold your stance, “Why, yes, yes I am,”

“And I’m assuming you know why I’m here?”

“Word- word gets around,”

“Mhm, I see,” you nod, though you refuse to cower, “So, did you or did you not receive a document regarding the franchise of the Jeons and the Jungs?”

When an ‘oh’ falls on his lips, his eyes enlarge in confusion which you can’t help, but furrow your eyebrows at the sudden shift in his expression, “Mr. Min?”

“I thought- I thought you were referring to the coffee stain in the break room,”

You wish you could feel a hint of laughter upon this misunderstanding, but instead, you clear your throat while you wave away the reply, “No, Mr. Min, I am addressing the documents of approval in order for the Jeons and the Jungs to be able to open up the new bakery on the other side of town. Now, it has come to my attention that LenLen brought you the documents to sign?”

“Not-not to my knowledge,” he stammers, scratching at the back of his neck while sweat beads form along his forehead. In the end, the discussion results in Taehyung’s office, him harshly accusing the ordeal to be your fault, though you callously want to reveal LenLen and Yoongi’s affair being you have a theory as to why he wasn’t aware of the document. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to do it. Ultimately, you hope everything will get taken care of with the promise that it won’t happen again, LenLen texting you an apology for not double checking on whether Yoongi received the papers or not.

When faced with Seokjin, who continues to ask you for updates, just to be let down again- you can’t help the frustration building to the point you want to explode. It’s when the next day comes, and lunch break finally rolls around, that there’s only one person you want to see. Sending a quick text, Namjoon meets you at a local restaurant, one he happens to pick out, the sight of him bringing a breath of fresh air you desperately needed.

Just a dull, thin sweatshirt and jeans, yet he shines more than anyone else bustling on the streets. When the waitress seats both of you- each ordering- Namjoon makes a joke on if you’d want wine, of course, you wanting to object since you are working today, yet he teases the thought of you needing to break a rule already.

“You are just out to get me, aren’t you?” You say between slurps of your noodles.

“The day that I’m not is the day you should be worried,” he counters with a side grin poised upon his thick lips. Sitting back, he moves his sleeves to rest mid-arm while he continues to watch you.

“Worried? I think I’d throw a party,”

“What?” He gapes, “A party without the main attraction?” He jabs a thumb at himself, “We will see how many will even show up,”

“Must you always have the last word?”

You’re grateful he was able to join you for lunch, especially when he listens to your vague rant on the stress your job holds, walking with you to the elevator of your work building before the two of you part ways. When night comes, you clocking out to head to the bus station, you make your way out into the warm breeze, when the figure of a familiar face nearly knocks you off your feet, yet you stand firm, swallowing the lump in your throat until his steps halt before you.

“[Y/N],” Jimin’s eyes hold worry while he stares into your hardened gaze.

“Jimin,” you grit your teeth, biting back the foul words wanting to tumble off your tongue. You’re not surprised when he asks why you haven’t returned his calls, because, with every message he sends, you delete it, refusing to let him get to you. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we- can we go somewhere with fewer people?” He pleads which you directly decline. Initiating an argument, both of you are unaware of the gathering audience, standing behind the glass doors, watching the flustered pair of you whispering frustrations that sail off with the wind. LenLen and Shai happens to be two witnesses, joining them Namjoon, whose heart nearly breaks from the man, he can tell, will not leave your side unless you comply.

The rage is unsettling, especially with the way he sees you trying to break free from the man’s grip- prompting Namjoon to come to your rescue, wrapping his arm around you to free you from Jimin’s relentless remarks.

“What- what are you doing?” You whisper in surprise, swiping your hair from your vision while your widened eyes sweep along Namjoon’s unreadable face.

“I’m your boyfriend, okay? Act natural,”

You can hardly process what he’s trying to do, especially when Jimin becomes an object in the path causing you and Namjoon to pause in place.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jimin gestures a stiff digit toward Namjoon, whose jaw clenches in return, “Who is this?”

“I- uh- I- yes, I-” You stutter, uncertain on if you even heard Namjoon right to begin with. Did he just call himself your boyfriend? And, how come that sounds like such wonderful music to your ears?

“Pretty sure that’s my question to ask,”

Jimin’s taken aback, waving off Namjoon’s statement as if it’s useless, “I’m [Y/N]’s boyfriend, so, therefore, it’s my right to ask, you bastard,”

“Mm, is that so?” The tension is smothering especially when Namjoon takes a small step forward, his arm guarding you while he holds an angered glance- not breaking eye contact with Jimin whose shoulders slump with the slightest fear he doesn’t want to show. “If I were you, I would fuck off,”

“Excuse me? What the hell did you just say?”

“I said to fuck. Off,” Namjoon’s voice is thick with vile, your hand tightening around his wrist while you gulp over the pounding of your heart.

“Who are you telling to-”

“Unless you want to be reported to the cops for harassment, I would advise you to walk away,” it doesn’t take but a millisecond for Namjoon to slip out his phone, immediately calling his sister, unbeknownst to you and Jimin, Monnie’s voice in a panic when Namjoon continues talking over her as if he is speaking to the authorities. Jimin, reluctantly, scampers off- Namjoon repudiating to leave your side when you lower your glance, gradually walking in the direction of your home.

“Hey…” His voice is soft after a few minutes of silence- you’re so lost in your thoughts, it’s hard to distinguish the fog wanting to encompass your mind. When you don’t hear him at first, he merely pauses, placing his fingers underneath your chin in a manner to get you to face him. Meeting his eyes, there’s a concern there that you’ve never seen a man hold for you, and it takes you a second to fully understand it. “Talk to me,” he murmurs- his frame so close to colliding with yours in a warm embrace, you nearly give in.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying to look away, but Namjoon tilts his head until your eyes meet again,

“Why are you sorry, [Y/N]? There is not a thing you have done wrong here,”

You sigh in exhaustion, wishing nothing more than to slip underneath your covers where you long for Namjoon to hold you, though you continuously deny it.

“[Y/N],” the way he says your name in such an eloquent whisper brings you to hushed tears, “I don’t think you realize how lucky you are. You could have married the man for the rest of your life, but you didn’t,”

Never thinking of it in that way, relief floods your senses when Namjoon reminds you that indeed, you are lucky, “Maybe, I shouldn’t have such bad taste in men,” you mutter, him chuckling at you before ghosting his fingers from your chin, giving you space enough to back away.

“Monnie and I have been saying the same exact thing for years, it’s about time you join our side,”

You nudge his arm with your knuckles while you glimpse at him with a hearty smirk, “Why do you make everything so much better?”

“Because I’m the best,”

His gloating is typical Namjoon- humorous, yet charming- causing contagious laughter the rest of the walk, leaving your heart with the subtle longing even when his presence leaves to return to his own home- you wishing nothing more than to follow him instead. Because for once, after years and years of knowing him, you ponder: he always finds a way to make your world brighter, even if he is nearly falling apart- it’s you who in return molds the halves of his heart together- signifying that there is something special – something that flickers the hope that maybe you do have feelings for him you have yet to admit.

It’s the meeting your work holds that ends with Shai timidly glimpsing at you here and there; your shoulders tensing especially with the rumored whispers of theories as to what was witnessed from the previous night with Jimin. Scattering bodies heading in different directions to their office leaves a lingering Shai behind in your presence, still feeling her stare while you compile your things to carry,

“Shai, I appreciate the recognition of the makeup I actually put on today, but is there a reason why you’re acting strange?”

Caught off guard, her mouth becomes agape, her cheeks reddening while she keeps her eyes panning the table, “I just have a question, um, so you know the man from last night?”

“Yeah?” You drag out the word slowly, shoulders rigid as you’re uncertain as to which man she could be referring to.

“Not-not your ex, but-but the tall one,”

Nodding, you bite the corner of your lip, urging her to continue whatever point she’s trying to make,

“Are you interested in him?”

The question hasn’t been asked of you, though you’ve realized you have spent a lot of time with Namjoon ever since his return from America. Why you feel so cornered, you can’t quite pinpoint? Because is it wrong to say no when in fact, it’s possible?

“Well, if not, it’s okay for me to, you know, ask him out, right?” She proceeds to ask if he’s single- waiting for your confirmation as if that’s information you would happen to know. She offers to help carry your things to your office once you answer her question with a terse nod- giving her permission to talk to Namjoon, though it’s not really your place.

As if the day couldn’t get any ‘worse’, or in a better term, ‘annoying’, Taehyung invites the staff to another luncheon, this time involving alcoholic beverages, him getting tipsy enough to subtly make a rude joke toward you. Though you’ve grown used to him over the years, you’ve learned how to tolerate him despite the gossip from the women of the workplace who deem you his favorite due to the fact you handle his demises. After the gathering ends, he proceeds to invite everyone to a karaoke bar not far away- all the women making excuses, in which you make mention you have a lot of work to finish.

“It’s not like you have a man waiting on you at home, come on, let’s go,” he counters- Shai standing beside him helpless while she watches your expression harden in offense.

“I’m pretty sure I never refused to go even when I was in a relationship,” you retort, rendering him speechless, leading him to shove his hands in his pockets out of discomfort. Prancing away with your head held high, you stop to purchase a few of your favorite beers before entering the work building. Stunned the moment you recognize the slim legs of Namjoon who you figure has gotten out of work late.

“Namjoon? It’s late, what are you still doing here?” The happiness exuberating from your smile flickers a hope you can’t bring yourself to ignore.

“Boss had me doing a few extra things, but what are you doing back at the office? Isn’t today your half day?”

“Ah,” you shake your head, “I know, but I still have a few notes I must finish. Also, times I need to schedule to evaluate more bakeries… Are you doing anything later?” Wanting to be in his company is the first thing on your mind, yet your face falls in disappointment when he mentions he has plans.

“Yeah, actually I’m going to the club tonight. Seokjin called asking if I’d like to go with him and Hoseok,”

Curse you, Seokjin, you cringe mentally, but you put on your best smile in an effort to hide the pathetic hope you can’t believe you’re feeling.

“Oh, I see, planning to pick up a few ladies?” You say the word as if it’s a song, though you want to regurgitate at even saying out loud. Shrugging his shoulders, a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth,

“I have plenty of those, so no,”

In your mind, you know it’s just a light-hearted joke, so why does it hurt to think of him with another woman? Fresh out of a relationship, and yet, you’re upset about a childhood friend wanting to mingle with women with the possibility of finding the one, he will marry. When his phone begins to ring, he gives you an apologetic glance which you return with a nod of understanding, Parting ways, he stares after you while you power walk to the elevator, him unaware of your eyes turning to stare at his back while he heads out of the building.

When in the realm of safety, called your office, you switch on music from your favorite KPOP band letting the music flow through the room. A buzz forms after you gulp the first beer, swaying your body with the music. Namjoon, can’t bring himself to leave, and last minute, he texts your brother and Hoseok, canceling for the evening, not revealing the reason out loud that his heart wants to be planted right next to yours.

The elevator seems to be against him, especially with how slow it rises to your floor, him exiting the moment the doors open. Rounding a corner, his eyes scan the glass windows until he sees your silhouette- twirling around the room, flipping your hair from side to side, completely lost in your own little world- oblivious to the now smiling Namjoon whose heart dances with joy overcoming his countenance at seeing you frolic among the room.  

There’s the woman he’s fallen so deeply in love with, and there’s the woman, he one-day hopes, he will hold in his arms for the rest of his life. Besides, one would find it blatantly obvious, as an outsider looking in, especially with the shiny smile plastered upon Namjoon’s face that he is irrevocably entranced by the soul, being you, dancing from side to side unaware to his presence outside your office walls. There is no one like you- there has never been anyone like you in his eyes- someone who he’s secretly admired from afar for all these years but remains to bury his feelings for the fear of what you would say. What your family would say. What his sister would say.

While you continue sashaying to the rhythm of the song echoing in your office, Namjoon disappears out of sight from the glass windows to dial your number. When the screen lights up with his name, you have the inkling to answer, but deciding to ignore it, you whirl around to sway your hips to the beat wondering why he would be calling with the supposed plans he has with your brother. It doesn’t take but a second before you hear a voice overpower the pounding music,

“Why aren’t you taking my call?”

Your heart, as if on cue, thrums whilst a look of shock overwhelms your expression, prompting you to hide at first in embarrassment before rising gradually to face Namjoon who is stifling a laugh while waving slowly to greet you.

“Kim Namjoon! What the hell are you doing here?” You simulate as though you’re annoyed, but the joy of his arrival isn’t something you necessarily want to admit, for you too, have the uncertainty on how to explain the way he’s stirring such feelings you’ve never considered before. With his sly smile, he repeats the question that interrupted your distraction from “work”, but you won’t let him win this argument that easily, “Excuse me, sir, I was working until you decided to intrude on my vibe,”

“Vibe? Is that what the cool kids are saying these days?”

The offensive gape you glare amuses him that you can’t help but boop his smirk with your fingertips- chasing him down with the threat of catching him, yet he zigs zags through your office effortlessly without even an ounce of exhaustion. When the unexpected arrival of a drunken Shai echoes within the hallways, the panic that overwhelms you is enough to shove Namjoon to hide behind one of the bookcases aligning the wall far enough to where Shai may not notice. Namjoon, who is unaware of Shai’s attraction to him, you suppress the thought while you usher her to take a seat, swiping her hair out of her face while tears stream down her cheeks,

“Shai? What’s going on?” When you remember Taehyung, along with Min Yoongi, and other coworkers had an alcoholic planned evening, your heart pangs with guilt for leaving Shai alone. She silences the moment she recognizes the knowledge behind your almond eyes, “It’s Taehyung, isn’t it?”

She nods quickly, keeping her head lowered, fiddling her fingers while her hazy eyes sweep along her tense lap, “He wouldn’t stop talking about my sister and how she broke his heart,”

“Damnit,” you whisper, knowing very well Namjoon is uninformed of the mean words Taehyung flaunts toward you every now and then due to his personal pent up anger. Though you decided not to attend the event tonight, you highly regret having Shai fend for herself. “Shai, I’m so sorry,”

“It’s not like anyone will stand up to him. He literally insults you about your break up with Jimin all the time, yet you let him,” you know she’s intoxicated, especially with the way her words slur, but despite her state of mind, you know what she’s saying is right. Namjoon’s chest fumes with anger at what he’s hearing- wishing nothing more than to approach your boss with the sheer intention of slamming his knuckles into his face; but, for the sake of your job, he knows you may be angry with him if he were to jeopardize that. “And,” Shai presses her fingers to her forehead, “LenLen apparently couldn’t come pick me up because she had some business to attend to. I asked Yoongi about it, but he was no use,”

“Yoongi?” From the way Shai talks, it seems as if she is aware about the relationship you accidentally stumbled upon. When she slowly meets your gaze, her eyes scream that she may have said too much, but you politely urge her to continue, “Yoongi would know about LenLen’s whereabouts?”

“Shit,” Shai sighs, “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone,”

“Anyone what?”

It’s a strange way that she changes the subject, bringing up Jimin which you are not happy about, leading you to stand to your feet while frantically ushering her out of your office, “I know you were in love with him,” she whines, “So why do you let Taehyung make fun of you for it when my sister dumped him-”

“Let’s be clear,” your hands squeeze her shoulders, “I was not in love with Jimin,”

The tension that had consumed Namjoon’s shoulders from the mention of your ex-boyfriend’s name eases into relief at your words. The hope he has to one day tell you how he feels finally comes into view, which he dismisses for now. Once you finally force her into a taxi, her mumbling her adoration for you-you jog with as much speed that you can gather, return to your office to unlock Namjoon from the trap you didn’t mean to set. He watches you from the window at how adorable you look running across the parking lot- all with the excitement of returning to his rescue- he can’t help himself but throw subtle teases at you for ‘taking so long’ which you reiterate with comments saying ‘well if I would have known you were going to be that way, I would have strolled with the speed of a snail.’

He walks you home as he normally does, refusing to let you be alone at night. He can’t help but bring up the conversation he overheard about the knowledge of your coworkers.

“LenLen doesn’t know that I know,” you confess, running a cold hand through your hair. You cuddle further into your trench coat, wishing the breeze would bring warmth to your aching frame. “In the end, I don’t care if they’re dating, it’s just if the company were to find out, it may not end well for either of them,”

“Yet,” Namjoon tilts his head while his eyebrows furrow, “Taehyung can harass women on multiple occasions and get away with it?”

A sigh of shame escapes past your pouting lips, shaking your head at the truth you wish wasn’t real, but it very much is, and without realizing, you inch closer to Namjoon, his arm brushing yours, bringing a coziness you’ve needed. “He hasn’t touched anyone inappropriately whatsoever; he just has a mouth he can’t control when he’s angry,”

“Still doesn’t make it right,”

“I know,” you wince knowing that not any excuse will make this situation any better.

“I can call and file a complaint. I’m pretty sure it’s anonymous,”

“No!” You gasp, lowering your voice once you realize the volume you held for that split second, “I can- I can handle this on my own,”

“If that’s the case, then how long has this been going on?”

Pausing, you don’t really want to answer because you know how protective Namjoon can be- you’ve seen it with his sister, and with how he became at the presence of Jimin- you will not be surprised if his protective instincts arise if you were to admit it. Instead, you mildly change the subject, “I just- I tolerate it okay? And this whole ordeal at work has been strange anyway. With Yoongi and LenLen dating and not completing documents that Yoongi needed to sign- to the moth infestation at JiWoo’s Café. It just- it reminds me of the time a few years ago when Jeon’s Bakery went through similar instances… Taehyung almost lost his mind to the point he nearly fired the whole staff,”

“I remember Monnie telling me about it. She said she’s never seen you so stressed out in her life,”

“Yeah,” your laugh is breathy, but in an exasperated sense while you shake your head at the memory you have tried to forget about, “the Jeons’ nearly lost their business, but I refused to let it happen.”

“Did you ever consider foul play?”

The thought hadn’t necessarily occurred to you, it’s been years since everything happened, but the survival of Jeon’s Bakery thankfully lives on. When the conversation dies, leaving minds fogged with deep thoughts is the moment you realize you’re nearing your home- Namjoon respecting the fact of not pressing the subjects any further. Freshening up for the evening, the gentle recall of his face smears your mind while you press a plush towel to dry your face; you reach for your phone almost instantly to wish him a good night. If only you could see how giddy he becomes at receiving your message, cuddling into his covers with nothing but the anticipation of getting to see you the next day.

And, if only, he could tell you that.

The following morning, he arises in preparation for work, leaving his apartment to find his sister doing the same, “What are you doing up so early, you ham?”

With a swift roll of the eyes, he waltzes to her side, joining her with the offer of dropping her off at her job, “What do you think? I’m not dressed to impress for the hell of it,”

Eyeballing him, she punches his arm while he fakes pain, Monnie knowing good and well, her punch didn’t have as much impact as it could, “Watch your tone with me, Peasant.” Stepping into his car, she buckles into the passenger side, making herself comfortable before speaking up once more, “Besides, I’m surprised you’re even capable of awakening at such an ungodly hour. Didn’t you just party the night before?”

“Is that what you think I’ve been up to? Since when has your brother been deemed a slacker?”

“Oh, are you really gonna go there?”

The bickering transitions to the mention of Namjoon hardly ever being at home, which Monnie ponders the question on why he can’t just live with her, being the two can save on rent, “Can’t you just respect my privacy?”

Suspicion crosses his sister’s sneer while she raises an eyebrow, “Privacy. Since when does one avoid his sister like the plague without a reason to claim why they need privacy?” You appear on his mind because when is there a time that you’re not on Namjoon’s mind? A tender smile tugs at the corner of his lips which Monnie observes almost immediately, “There’s a girl isn’t there?”

“Which one?”

Grasping Namjoon’s earlobe, Monnie pulls at it, causing Namjoon to panic, “I’m driving! I am driving!”

“And?” She ultimately lets go, turning to face the windshield while droplets of rain become evident on the glass, “Speaking of a girl, do you know how freaked out I was when you called me pretending to be [Y/N]’s boyfriend? I seriously thought Jimin was going to kick your ass,”

“Hmph,” Namjoon switches his hold on the steering wheel, unintentionally pressing down on the gas pedal, “I’m pretty sure that was the least of my worries,”

“Jimin has a history of self-defense classes, I wouldn’t completely dismiss it,”

‘Yeah, but he doesn’t know what I’d do if it means protecting her,’

“And while we’re on the topic,” Monnie waves a quick index finger, “if you ever bring home a snotty thot, I will suffocate you both with my bare hands,”

Namjoon shakes his head at his relentless sister though he knows she has not an idea of his undying crush on her best friend, “But… What if she’s attractive?”

“Can’t be more attractive than I,” Monnie gloats, tracing a finger to place a strand of hair behind her ear.

“What did you say? I think my ears have gone deaf,”

Monnie captures his earlobe tightly within her grip once again, Namjoon pleading sorry until she lets go, “Mhm, about to mute that mouth of yours while I’m at it,”

Another meeting takes place the second your clicking heels sound within the workplace, you retrieve your notes before taking a seat before Taehyung whose lips close in a firm line. The rest of your coworkers file in, hardly making eye contact, and with this meeting not being on the schedule, you’re anxious to know what caused such a last-minute gathering. When pictures of Jiwoo’s Café appear on the monitor above, your mouth drops while your eyes scan each picture. Water has flooded every inch of the place, ruining some of the storage from what you can tell, and though your eyebrows crease with the thought that maybe pipes have busted- you notice in the corner of the photo that the sink had been left running all night. Worry consumes you, especially with the thought of your brother and Hoseok, whom you know were out clubbing last night without a care in the world.

“It would be one thing if this situation was not preventable,” Taehyung folds his hands before him in an ill manner, “But, clearly, it was. And the food cost on top of the cost to get everything cleaned? We’re talking thousands.”

LenLen doesn’t appear as nervous as she had before which you take a mental note of. With her in charge of the store, shouldn’t she at least show some concern? Taehyung continues with his angered rant, threatening to fire someone as he always likes to do, which you choose to ignore, happy to leave once the meeting is over when LenLen and Shai invite you to join them for lunch.  The conversation about the frustration with Taehyung is vague, but you assure the two that you will get to the bottom of this when you can, though you can’t help but wonder why your brother never contacted you about the scenario. Stepping into the restaurant, you’re taken by surprise when you notice Namjoon, who is sitting across none other than Jung Hoseok, who is leaned forward, pressing Namjoon to set him up with Shai which you are unbeknownst of. When greeting the gentlemen, you decide to not ask Hoseok about the mini flooding being you’re off the clock as well as he. Namjoon and Hoseok stand to their feet, telling all three of you to take a seat. An uneasy feeling settles at the bottom of your stomach, leaving a sour taste in your mouth once you notice Shai timidly flicking glimpses in Namjoon’s direction. And, not making it to your knowledge, Hoseok kicks at Namjoon’s foot under the table with the hopes of him conniving on gaining Shai’s attention.

“So,” Namjoon prepares his noodles with the goal of consuming them, but with Hoseok playing footsies, he decides to break the tension, “Where are you from?”

Shai pauses mid-chew, scouring for a napkin to dab her face, “Are you talking to me?”

She wasn’t the only one who stopped mid-chew at Namjoon’s sudden question- your eyes peering at the overly excited girl with the denial that you’re not sure how you feel about her. LenLen remains quiet- solely concentrating on her bowl of noodles in front of her.

“I’m from the city originally, but now, I reside in Busan of course. Alone,” Cringing at what Shai is trying to hint, you barely notice Hoseok immediately jumping at her answer, though she returns the question to Namjoon, “What about you?”

“Sangdo-dong, but moved to Busan with my family at a young age,” Namjoon’s mouth is full of food at this point, but Hoseok isn’t about to give up,

“I live across town in Busan,” his dimples show with his determined grin, “Alone,”

Choking on some broth you slurped, you bury your mouth into the crook of your arm while Namjoon pats your back in a way to calm you, “You alright, [Y/N]?” Taking a moment to recuperate, you nod toward a concerned Namjoon, clearing your throat in an attempt to suppress the tickle.

It’s later that evening when you approach your brother, anxiety apparent upon his face and frame as he paces back and forth within the living room, “So, do you want to explain what happened at work last night?”

Seokjin huffs, leaning his head back while slamming his eyes shut, “[Y/N], I swear to you, Hoseok and I always do a sweep of the store before leaving. I swear to God the sink was off,”

Crossing your arms, you carefully lean against the wall, not letting Seokjin get off so easily if he’s fibbing, “Were there a lot of dishes or something?”

With wide eyes, Seokjin whips his head to stare at you incredulously, “No, we’re not a restaurant, we’re a café, meaning we serve finger foods and desserts, why the hell would we have a lot of dishes?”

“I don’t know! For all I know, the café was busy yesterday! And we’ve already discussed protocol on storing items properly, so what gives, Jin!?”

“Look, I’m just as mind blown as you are. Also, the flour was stored correctly- Hoseok just didn’t have the balls to admit that he doesn’t know how they got moved,” Seokjin’s confession does pang surprise, your hands folding across your chest while trying to make sense of it, “I actually googled if there was a horror story that happened at JiWoo’s Café because how else can I explain to corporate about the sink randomly turning on in the middle of the night?”

Your fingers press against your lips that are pursed in concentration, “Because it didn’t,” you murmur.

The ring of the doorbell jolts you and Seokjin out of your conversation, him sharing a look with you before prodding to the guest bedroom. Overall, you know corporate is going to take care of the water issue regardless, so ultimately there isn’t much to worry about, but the gnawing feeling that something just doesn’t sit right with you seems to bring your suspicions back to light.

Upon opening the door, your eyes widen in sheer incredulity at a nervous Jimin, dressed in a snug tuxedo, who’s lips are quivering with what to say.

“What the hell are you doing here!?” Teeth clenched from the anger boiling within your system, Jimin’s eyes widen with panic as he raises a hand as if to stop you.

“Please [Y/N], hear me out,”

“Hear what out? Clearly, you do not understand the process of a breakup, do you?”

“Listen, just give me a chance to take you to dinner. Let me explain myself-”

“Good night,” his hand stops the door from shutting and with the strength you know he holds, you no longer feel the need to fight; and from the desperate way his eyes flicker between yours, the seriousness behind them unwillingly convinces you to join him, “I just want to make things right, again, just-just please,” Maybe for once he will indeed explain himself; maybe even apologize for making you feel so low all because of a long distance relationship he refused to try; or, maybe he will admit to cheating on you, although you’re highly confident he had been with how fast he seemed to move on. Lost in thoughts, the sight of a familiar restaurant peeks into view, your mouth falling open while your eyes widen disbelievingly.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you mouth, turning to face Jimin who’s eyes sweep outside the car and back,

“What? Do you not like it here?”

It’s not just a restaurant you know all too well; it’s the restaurant- the one specifically raising the memory of a tattered bra, red lipstick and black stocking used to the advantage of Jimin’s second breakup, “Have you been here before?”  It’s a trick question, one Jimin does not seem to pick up on, but he’s smart enough to not answer you with his most recent event regarding this restaurant.

“Yeah, with coworkers forever ago. The food here is pretty decent, but, I-I, we can go somewhere else if you’d li-”

“It’s whatever,” Fumbling with unbuckling your seatbelt, the anger is burning hot upon your chest- you could scream, you could cry, you could pull your own hair out with how inconsiderate a man can be. Bringing an ex-girlfriend to the same restaurant he recently brought another woman- how is that okay? Evidence continues to pile, especially when the waiter greets with a ‘Welcome back’, one Jimin awkwardly dismisses.

“Forever ago, huh?” Gulping, Jimin steps ahead of you while you follow him to the numerous tables- you precisely pick out the table Jimin had sat with the last woman a week ago, you ask the waiter if that’s okay which he nods. Settling down, you fold your arms across your chest once you hang your purse on the back of your chair- Jimin scrambling to unfold the menu which covers half of his face.

“Everything sounds good tonight. I wonder what we should order,” Jimin purposely keeps his attention on the menu to avoid the daggers you’re glaring into his skull. Tilting your head, you set your jaw, tightening your already folded arms in irritation,

“Cut to the chase, Jimin. Why did you come to my house? Aren’t you leaving for Seoul soon?”

His fingers grip tighter onto the menu, his eyes peek nervously at you before wetting his lips, “Uh, can we, uh, order first?”

“Okay then,” you lean forward, clasping your fingers together, eyes refusing to leave his tense frame, “Let’s have what you’ve ordered recently,”

“I-I haven’t been here recently,” Jimin still scanning the menu- the screech of your chair surprises him to the point the menu falls from his hands, you hovering above him with a taunting sneer, “I’m going to use the restroom,” Any excuse that leads you to dial your best friend’s phone number is the ultimate excuse. The moment you hear Monnie’s voice over the line, it soothes you enough while you force a long sigh,

“Are you kidding me right now? Jimin showed up again?” The muffled sound of a car is heard over the line which you assume to be a taxi, except it’s not a taxi, it’s Namjoon, who’s ears tune in when he overhears Jimin’s name.

“You won’t even believe where we are right now,”

“What I don’t understand is why you’re even wasting your time with him. Have you ordered wine yet?”

“…No?”

“Water will have to do. Pour it over his head and leave!” Namjoon’s smirk is hidden in the evening, Monica’s attention remaining ahead of her where the streetlights glisten beneath the moon, it’s what she says next, that nearly shatters Namjoon’s heart to smithereens, “Wait a minute, what did you just say? You’ll see how it goes? [Y/N], whatever he has to say is bull shit. Do you plan on seeing him again?” Eventually hanging up the phone, Namjoon’s knuckles are white from the grip upon the steering wheel, Monnie rambling about the news she has just received, “Jimin showed up again, I swear he needs to let her go,”

“Does she not see what he’s trying to do? Why does she keep giving in to him?” Jutting his jaw, his eyebrows furrow, his concentration on the road becoming hard with the irritation he withholds.

“Well, it’s not like she can help it. The asshole keeps showing up without her permission,”

“She just needs to learn to stand up for herself. She just lets men walk all over her like it’s nothing,”

“Calm down, Joon, I’m sure she’s not going to give him another chance,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Confused, she turns to face her brother, wondering why he’s getting so worked up over her best friend- though she wants to ask out loud, she decides against it, more worried about their safety with him driving more than anything.

Pained silence still has a hold at the dinner table, the waiter placing you and Jimin’s meals before each of you, yet your stiff digits can’t even fold suitably around the fork. Instead, you observe Jimin, who clears his throat before taking a sip of his wine- him mirroring the same rigidity. Shaking your head slowly, his shoulders slump, because he knows it’s now or never- and he knows the only reason you’re here is because of the promise of him explaining himself. When a few more minutes pass, the quiet is filled with a clinging fork against his plate before dropping it onto the napkin.

“I turned down the promotion. I’m not leaving Busan,”

“What!?” Gasping, that is the last thing you want to hear, in fact, you stand to your feet, shuffling for Jimin’s phone, “What do you mean you turned them down!? Call them back! Tell them you’re just kidding!”

“[Y/N], I can’t do that right now, they’re closed! Don’t you want to work things out? I thought this would be the best! For me, and for you!”

“Work things out?” Still handing his phone towards him, he stares up at you in apparent shock which shows he did not expect your reaction to be like this, “How come me not leaving Busan was such a sin when we were together? And working things out? You want to work things out in the same place you brought another woman?” Realization dawns his entire expression, his eyes glued to the table while his thick lips poise in surprise before his eyes trail to lock with yours- he’s speechless because he knows he’s been caught, and you’re not done with what you’ve kept buried within your heart, “Oh, what, you gonna press charges against me? Cause if so, I can do more to add to them,” your fingers curl around the shaft of the wine bottle, Jimin throwing his hands up in defense,

“[Y/N]!”

Fingers slipping to return to your side, you attempt to calm yourself for a moment, realizing maybe assault is not such a good idea, “Originally,” you sigh, “I wanted us to be civil. But you’re so deceitful. And,” you throw your purse over your shoulder, “I would take my advice and call your job back. Seoul has plenty of women for you to fish for,”

Stomping out of the restaurant, you’re taken aback when a strong hand whips you around- Jimin’s frantic, yet you stare at him- air escaping your agape mouth into the icy weather.

“It’s not entirely my fault!” His voice raises,

“Excuse me!?”

“Who was that guy you were with the other day?”

“Wow,” you look away, wishing with all your heart Namjoon was by your side, but that’s not something you will reveal, especially not in front of Jimin.

“See!? I’m not the only one who cheated! You were seeing someone else too! Can’t we just say we both are at fault and move past it? Why are you making me the bad guy!?”

“You know what?” You murmur- gathering your bearings, swallowing the lump in your throat while you cuddle more into your coat. He just admitted he cheated on you- something he’s lied about countless times before, and at this point, you’ve been given enough proof. You can’t do this anymore, and the truth is you don’t want to- he’s done enough, and you’ve had enough, “Jimin, it isn’t your fault. It’s mine,”

When his expression softens, he inches forward, but stops abruptly the moment you finish your statement,

“I’m the one to blame for dating you in the first place.”

Crying isn’t something you typically do, not in this case, and the march home seemed much longer than usual. Tossing and turning all night, you force yourself to get ready for work, going through the same routine of taking the bus, heels clicking into the work building to see Hoseok, coffee in hand, conversating with Namjoon along with a smiling Shai while they’re waiting for the elevator to be available. Hoseok must have picked up a temporary job for the time being until his parents’ café is back in business; and, little do you know, Namjoon’s heart still weighs heavy at the knowledge of you being with Jimin last night. He can’t stop himself, continuing to ask Shai questions upon where she resides, her mentioning a pizza place to which they should visit sometime.

Jealousy rears its ugly head when you grimace at Shai asking for Namjoon’s number, Hoseok immediately grabbing her phone to put his first before handing it to Namjoon. Your eyes remain focused on your cellular device the entire time to the point you almost miss Namjoon’s invite to come with them. He’s visibly hurt when you retort that you didn’t hear him, sauntering off the elevator with Shai trailing behind you. Taehyung isn’t in a good mood which you’ve expected, and he sends everyone on a wild goose chase about another bakery that apparently hasn’t been open for a few days, except he asks for LenLen and Yoongi to stay behind- something that catches you off guard. Shoving the questions subconsciously, you and Shai squeeze into one of the vans when the ring of her phone causes your ears to perk up.

Why are you so angry when you hear Namjoon’s name slip off Shai’s lips? And why do you feel so territorial when it comes to him? Shai cancels plans with him from what you’re gathering, apologizing to him repeatedly. If only you were aware of Hoseok’s ear is pressed to the back of Namjoon’s phone- fussing at him to tell Shai that the two have time this evening to accompany her- Namjoon shrugging off Hoseok’s desperation, wishing he could just be with you instead.

“What happened to the approval that was supposed to be signed?” Taehyung’s eyes steadily observe the employees before him- shoulders tensing while LenLen carefully chews her spoonful of rice. Yoongi raises his head slowly, turning to her with nervous eyes.

“They didn’t make it to Yoongi’s desk,” LenLen’s curt smile could fool anyone, yet she remains unphased, “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim.”

“Is there a reason why they didn’t make it to his desk?”

Yoongi’s heart thuds, wondering if Taehyung is suspicious upon his relationship with LenLen. Never in his life has he been so enchanted by a woman as much as he has her- and, he remembers, despite the confusion, of her saying not to worry about the papers- setting them aside before she distracted him with devious kisses. How he forgot about the documents is something he will take with him to his grave, yet he could have sworn they remained on his desk even after she left his office.

“I must have misplaced them,” LenLen’s voice lowers, digging another spoonful of her meal to distract herself from the way Taehyung’s eyes sweep her fidgety fingers.  

Exhaustion seeps through every bit of your limbs- offering to take the van back to work while your coworkers bid you a good night. The moment you park, you’ve fought to keep your eyelids open the entirety of the drive, slumping into your seat before slumber takes over. Namjoon has worked yet another late shift, ambling to his car to notice someone sleeping in one of the company vans. Recognizing it to be you, he watches while you’re leaned against the car door peacefully, mouth slightly ajar, and he longs for a day where he can wake up next to you- your pinned hair frilly from the touch of the pillow, while the bed covers bundle underneath your chin. Just the thought of your almond eyes fluttering to find him- corners crinkling from the smile that will fill your lips.

Waking up, you return loose strands of hair behind your ear before embarrassment knocks on your door at the discovery of Namjoon who is now giggling at your widening eyes. “Oh, no,” you moan, pressing your head onto the steering wheel, the honk of the horn causing Namjoon to lean back. Of course, his presence includes an evening out to dinner, the two of you ordering your meals- holiday lights dazzling outside the tiny restaurant.

Running his chopsticks along his food, Namjoon swallows in frustration at the memory of last night, Monnie later informing him that Jimin isn’t planning on leaving Busan. Wanting to ask you about it, he does- his tone sounding a tad bit harsh compared to what he was intending, “So, I hear that asshole isn’t leaving Busan after all,”

“That asshole?”

“Ah,” Namjoon lays his chopsticks onto the napkin next to his plate, leaning back in his chair, “Am I supposed to be respectful considering the way he treats you? Or the fact that he’s your boyfriend again,”

“What?” You murmur, though it’s hardly audible- your folded arms slipping from the table while you investigate Namjoon’s stern gape. “Is that what Monnie said? That I’m dating him again?”

“Well… No,”

“Okay, then what is the problem? I don’t understand why you just jumped to a conclusion like that,”

“Because maybe you have a hard time telling him to back off,”

“And is that any of your business?” Silence takes hold upon the tension while Namjoon lowers his head, biting the corner of his lip in culpability.

“I just heard about it all last night, okay?”

“Then that’s something you should have approached me about first before accusing that asshole of being my boyfriend,”

Namjoon finds joy in hearing you curse Jimin’s name, but he knows now that he did approach the subject inappropriately, “Hey,” his voice softens, your lips falling in a saddened frown before meeting his eyes, “I’m really sorry for upsetting you,”

Huffing quickly, you nod your forgiveness, Namjoon awkwardly taking a swig of his beer. The sound of water droplets on the rooftop of the joint prompts Namjoon to turn his head to face the window- eyes flickering around the atmosphere while you take in how handsome he is. Gentle brown eyes shiny against his tanned skin, his full lips parted with the amazement of nature outside, while the line of his jaw sends a desire that causes you to look away.

“It’s raining,” he murmurs, “You have an umbrella, right?”

Peering up at him, you shake your head leisurely, cringing when you remember that you left it at home, “It’s okay, I’ll just walk home in the rain. I’m used to it,”

“But why would you do that?”

The comment rolls off your tongue before you can stop yourself, “You upset me so much that maybe I need it to cool me off,” you take a shot of your beer, keeping your eyes peeled in a direction away from Namjoon’s jaw falling open.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“No,” you shrug, pouring some more beer into your glass, a smile of annoyance planted on your face, “I should be apologizing for you missing your date with Shai,”

“I invited you to join. You’ll come, correct?”

“And what makes you think I should? I don’t necessarily feel like being a third wheel,”

A subtle smirk pulls at the corner of Namjoon’s lips because seeing how you’re reacting to the idea of him being with Shai ignites a hope that maybe you do have feelings for him. Something he’s been dying to gain since returning home from America, “Why would you feel like a third wheel? Maybe I wanted you to be my date,”

“Oh, don’t start with your sarcasm. I’ve seen Shai, and you’re not the only guy who goes smitten over her. I get it, she’s pretty, but is appearance all that matters to the male population!? Goodness, men are-”

“You’re prettier,” Mid-sip of your alcohol, you nearly choke, especially when the words leave Namjoon’s mouth, making your heart flutter in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time. He timidly avoids further conversation while you pat at your loose strands, him paying for the meal before the two of you step outside. A storm brewed during the dinner to the point the rain is panging heavier than when it started.

“Shit,” you whisper, dreading the idea of walking in the rain though you made mention of being used to it. Namjoon doesn’t even hesitate, telling you to remain under the awning of the restaurant while he sprints to the nearest convenient shop. You gape after him, tilting your head wondering what he has up his sleeve. The ding of the door alerts the employees of yet another presence, Namjoon’s hands scrambling along the umbrella rack- originally picking out two just to return one to the rack, a tight-lipped grin planted upon his face. Once the purchase has been made, he returns to your side- your eyes showing the confusion that he’s holding only one open umbrella, “Why just one?” You laugh, Namjoon gesturing for you to step closer while he holds the umbrella higher, “Aren’t we going to get soaked?”

Both turning in the direction of your home, it’s unexpected the way Namjoon’s expression glows, “I think I have a way to fix that problem,” his arm drapes around your waist; he pulls you much closer to his side showing a perfect way to prevent rain from drenching the pair of you. You’re astonished, but in the most glorious way, you can even imagine, his warmth smothering your chest with giddiness- rain pouring on all sides, yet the smiles upon both of your faces light the world much brighter than even the orange streetlights decorating the paths.

“Want to call a cab?” He peers down at your tiny frame- something he made a joke about earlier where you fended for yourself claiming you’re of average height. His question stirs a mild panic, because for once, the walk in the rain isn’t so bad, especially with the way Namjoon’s arm remains planted around you, your head cuddling into the side of his chest after both of your steps cease.

“No,” you tenderly reply, “I think I want to keep walking… With you,”

There’s a magic in the air that outsiders could feel even a mile away from the couple embraced underneath the crying night. Even when you make it to your doorstep, Namjoon insists on watching until you’re safely inside- him gifting you the black umbrella that you reluctantly accept, thanking him for the evening. His trip home ponders him to settle onto his bed, gazing at the picture he never deleted from when he first watched you fall asleep.

A misunderstanding does fall into place the next evening- one where Shai receives a text from Namjoon in regards of the pizza plans that happened to be missed the day before. You, being informed of it by Shai, pauses, wondering how such a great night with Namjoon could shatter your heart in just 24 hours of time. Unaware, Namjoon has made plans with your brother, bailing out last minute with Shai who is walking alongside Hoseok- expression falling in disappointment at the knowledge that Namjoon will not be attending the pizza date as she hoped.

“He’s going clubbing,” Hoseok nods swiftly, her giggling that she enjoys clubbing as well in an attempt to win Namjoon’s interest. Namjoon politely declines, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trench coat while he watches Hoseok, who came up with the plan this morning, joyfully dancing by Shai’s side while they disappear farther into the glistening city.

Heartbroken and confused, yet again, you make plans with LenLen who sees you’re not okay- the two of you enjoying your meals despite the hushed banter, “I can tell you still think about Jimin,”

“If I told you that I don’t, you wouldn’t believe me,”

“Maybe you should date around? Live a little,”

The conversation turns into LenLen giving dating advice- saying not to take men seriously- how they most likely flirt with every female in order to keep their options open- you biting your tongue about her secret she still has not an idea that you know about it. Doubting everything that has been happening with Namjoon, now the uncertainty of him having feelings for you plague your thoughts. Were you stupid to fall for another man’s tactics? But you’ve known Namjoon most of your life, and he’s never been one to cause toxicity amongst others, and you’ve always admired his maturity in situations. So, why can’t you come to terms that maybe he’s not like any other guy? But, then again… What if he is?

Namjoon bends onto the pool table while he squints his eyes at the ball, he’s planning on hitting. Seokjin waves the video games Namjoon surprised him with from America, thanking him once again while he awaits his turn.

“You know, I was going to invite you over to visit my parents with me, but apparently, Mom invited [Y/N]’s boyfriend over for dinner. And, of course, I’m aware of Hoseok ditching me for some girl my sister works with,”

Namjoon’s heart falls to his feet while he leans against the pool table, Seokjin’s focus remaining on his pool stick as he jabs it- the clacking of the balls sounding through the ringing in Namjoon’s ears. Jimin. Again?

“Boyfriend?” Namjoon tries to keep his emotions at bay to prevent any suspicion from your brother, straightening his back while his hands grip the wooden stick in frustration.

“Oh, I figured Monica may have mentioned him, but he’s some guy my mom won’t shut up about. He comes from a rich background. I could care less about the bastard, but I would never tell [Y/N] that. You know how she is about reminding us she’s our elder,”

“Yeah…” Namjoon takes his turn, head spinning from the news he’s receiving, “He comes over a lot?”

“Unfortunately,” Seokjin murmurs, “Just glad I’ve moved out with Hoseok so I don’t have to deal with any of it,”

“We can still go by there,” Namjoon says it without thinking, Seokjin nodding in agreement while they finish up their game. Why he feels the urge that you may need him he doesn’t know. Maybe if he sees Jimin in person again, he can feel some type of closure in letting you go. If Jimin is who you want, then maybe you should be with him in the long run.

Waltzing through your door after spending the evening with LenLen, your auditory senses are greeted by the familiar clinking of silverware mingled with the voices of your parents. At first, you assume that they’re talking to each other until a third voice makes an entrance, your body rigid from the rage rising within your chest. You’re relentless as you stomp to the living room- Jimin’s blonde hair glistens beneath the chandelier, while he sits at the table before your parents. He nods at you when your eyes lock, him timidly looking away when he sees the pure anger resonating from your stance. Your mother joyfully sprints to you, shoving you towards your room to change into something ‘better’ as she proclaims- spinning around dramatically to tell Jimin to continue with his meal.

When ten minutes pass, you haven’t budged from where you’re frozen before your mirror, the black umbrella Namjoon had given you just the night before leans against your desk. Your mother doesn’t even bother to knock, carefully shutting the door behind her while you immediately tilt your head up, “Why the hell is Jimin here!?” You raise your voice, her shushing you abruptly as her hands' fan in front of your face.

“First of all, I asked you to get ready! And I don’t understand why you’re being so damn selfish! Jimin is perfect for you in every way, and you should be very grateful to have found a man like him,” at some point, during your mother’s pointless banter, it all goes in one ear and out the other, and the relief of her leaving your room sends a frustrated exhale from your lips. You did all that you could when you were dating Jimin; you’ve even dressed up to the point of winning his affection in the bedroom which failed miserably as you recall the night of the breakup. And, you know what? Why not flaunt yourself like you did that night? You’ll show him. You’ll show all of them who is really missing out on who.

The smear of blood red lipstick decorates your lips while dangling pearl earrings match the lacey dress that now hugs your figure. Cleavage prominent, you swiftly straighten your hair, making the last task on your list to be a fresh pair of stockings- the intent of the article of clothing to remind Jimin of the night he was with another woman- the numerous nights he had been with other women.

Head held high, you gradually step into the living room, your father gulping at the sight of your bold choice of an outfit, while your mother gasps in disgust. Jimin doesn’t know where to look- trying to keep his gaze away from the tops of your bosoms squeezing together in the nicest bra you could find in your closet.

“Well?” You spread your arms while you sway to your side, “Is there a reason why you all seem appalled?” You gloat, “I’m sure I’ve put every woman in Busan to shame with this dress, isn’t that right Jiminie?” you’re acting obnoxiously, yet you don’t care, seductively tilting your head while you glare at the back of Jimin’s head, “Why are you sitting away from me, Honey? Look at me,” when Jimin glances at your wide-eyed parents, he cautiously turns to face you, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, “What? Do you not like it?” You bend slightly, showing the size of your ass to remind Jimin of the nights he turned you down, muttering on how your sex life was boring due to the lingerie you refused to buy, “Should I have worn an even tighter dress? How about the stockings? Remind you of anything?”

“[Y/N]!” Your mother snaps, you straighten your frame whilst an exasperated giggle escapes your shiny smile,

“Oh, I forgot my parents were here. Oops,” you slur- your dad gesturing for you to take a seat which you do, Jimin having a hard time processing whatever you are doing. Beer is crowding the table with the many different plates of food your mother prepared, yet you turn to Jimin with a whiny request for wine.

Namjoon rests the side of his head on the window of the passenger’s side while Seokjin keeps his attention on the road, “So, have you been seeing anyone since we’ve been home?” He glimpses over to see his friend- distance in his expression which brings a concern to Seokjin.

“No,” Namjoon says after a moment.

“Okay,” Seokjin says slowly, “What about interest? Anyone, that you’re interested in?” He notices the hint of a smile on Namjoon’s face from the corner of his eyes, “Ah, there’s a smile. So, you do have an interest in someone,”

“You caught me,” Namjoon raises his hands in self-defense, “Ask away,”

“Tell me about her. What’s her name? How old is she? Is she from Busan?”

Namjoon contemplates his answers since he doesn’t want to reveal to Seokjin that it’s you, Seokjin’s sister, that Namjoon is hopelessly in love with, “She’s 28,”

“Dude,” Seokjin is shocked from the obvious tone of his voice, “That’s five years older than you, have you gone mad? That’s our sisters’ age. That’s like you dating my sister,” Namjoon glances at Seokjin while he proclaims on how creepy it is to date an older woman- Namjoon remaining silent for the rest of the drive, pain evident on his face now knowing your brother would disapprove if Namjoon’s feelings for you were to be made known.  

Chugging half of your second beer, since Jimin failed at bringing wine, you wait for the perfect opportunity of Jimin’s lips molding to take a sip of his beer when you face your mother, “So, mom did dad ever cheat on you at any point in your relationship?”

Coughing, Jimin buries his mouth into his hand that curled into a fist, sliding his beer further from him while your mom’s eyebrows furrow at your random question, “No. No, your father’s been faithful. Wh-”

“What would you do if he wasn’t?”

Your father stares at you in distraught, yet he seems to catch where your conversation is headed.

“I’d smack him upside his head-”

Hesitation is not part of your vocabulary in this section of time, for your palm, with all the strength you can muster, slaps the back of Jimin’s head while he cringes beneath your touch. The burn of the hit lingers within your palm, while your parents freeze in realization- your dad raising his voice to ask what you’re trying to get at.

“Wait a minute,” your mother counters, while Jimin rubs the back of his head, “Did you… Were you seeing another woman while courting my daughter?”

Jimin drops his gaze to the table, running the tip of his tongue over his lips in panic.

“I’m- I’m- I don’t know what to say,” your mother says in obvious disappointment. Your father rises slowly while he glowers at Jimin who raises his arm in a plea to your father, but it’s too late, he attacks Jimin, slamming him onto the table while bowls of food hit the floor- your mother getting in between the men while Jimin begs for your father to let him go.

“When is everyone going to start acting like adults in here!?” She bellows whilst scampering for cloths to clean the food stains off your father’s sweater.

“Look,” Jimin’s hands fly before him, “I messed up, okay? But I am not the only one to blame here! [Y/N] cheated, too! She’s seeing someone now!”

“Jimin!”

“Oh, are you going to deny it!? Do you think that it’s simple for me to come here? Your parents practically begged me to-”

“Then why the fuck did you not say no!?” Gasps escape from both of your parents at the choice of words you have chosen. But you are so livid, you could care less. “For heaven fucking sakes, Jimin, where is the respect? If only I had a few more drinks in me, I’d smack the shit out of you even more!”

“You know what?” Jimin clenches his jaw, settling to his knees before you, “Hit me then. Put me out of my misery. Do what you need to feel better, I just want to fix things here.”

“Like you’ve had such luck with patching things up before,” you mutter, “It’s not happening, Jimin,”

“Why?” Jimin taunts, standing back to his feet, “How about you tell your parents why you no longer want to be with me, huh? Who’s the man who told me to fuck off at your work? You dodge the question because you’re just as guilty as I am!”

Crossing your arms, you inch closer, a sneer present on your red lips, “Accusing me makes you feel so much better, doesn’t it,”

“Then why can’t you admit who he is? I’m going out of my mind about it, just fucking tell us already-”

“I like him, okay! But that was after my relationship with you!” Your voice is loud- so loud it carries throughout the house, stunning your parents as well as Jimin as they gape at you, “I really like him, you have an issue with that Jimin? Huh?”

“Oh no,” your mother groans as she collapses on the couch, “No, no, no, no-”

Seokjin bursting through the door makes matters worse to your mother as she clambers to tidy the table with whatever she can salvage while everyone’s attention turns to see not one, but two men, joining everyone in the living room. When Namjoon trails behind a wide-eyed Seokjin- Jimin’s expression shows astonishment as he points a shaky index finger toward Namjoon, whose eyes are too busy looking at the ensemble he has never seen on you before. A look that’s distracting him from the tension smothering the vicinity.

“That’s- that’s him! That’s the guy!” Jimin’s desperate- desperate to clear his name of any negativity, though he truly is the only one at fault for infidelity. Grasping your arm tightly, he drags you an inch forward while you struggle to get out of his grip, “You need to explain to everyone!”

Your parents are jumbled with who Jimin is exclaiming about at first, but when they realize his crazed eyes have yet to leave Namjoon’s, they know exactly who he’s referring to- but, Namjoon is more focused on the tightening grip Jimin has on your arm, Namjoon grits his teeth while he swallows slowly, “Let go of her.” Stepping forward, nobody has time to blink when Namjoon clutches the front of Jimin’s suit, dragging him roughly toward the outside of the house while Seokjin hysterically chases after them. Panicked voices of your parents scream towards what seems to be the start of a feud.

You can’t move. You just remain speechless while your hero intervenes once again. 

[love-and-anarchy-au]

Love & Anarchy: Chapter 16

happy wednesday, loves! i’m officially on holidays yeeeyyy! now i’ll have much more time for writing so you shall expect three chapters a week, ocasionally ;) having said that, i have nothing else to say xd im having such weird feelings bout everything, so im not able to explain anything bout this chapter lol. hope you enjoy this small chapter <3

REMEMBER THIS AU HAPPENS IN THE SAME UNIVERSE THAT THIS ONE

Find out what this AU is about here

Masterlist

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @dawniebb @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @everyone-has-a-nightmare @magykaldealings @nobellrenaissance @cerenoya @cassin-the-assasin @cindersnightmare

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Words

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Part 2: A teen named Ace Artino

16 years old Alec

    “Ready?”

    “Always.”

    They interlocked their elbows and walked through the streets,without knowing where they were going, as humanity itself.

    The streets of Gatlon City were narrow, at least the ones that were secondary. The avenues, however, weren't very wide either. They were wet concrete roads, populated by metallic and noisy animals, like the city itself. Gatlon City was a living being from which columns of smoke and putrid smells rose every day. The buildings were modern, as they had been built on top of old buildings; public transport was rampant and the bases of the constructions, ninety percent of the time, were small bars. Alexandra and Alec loved bars hidden in alleys or, better, underground bars. Alexandra was one of the few people who knew where those bars were, thanks to her spiders.

    Alexandra was anarchic. She drank beer, vodka, even whiskey, despite being only fifteen years old (she said that the rate of alcoholism in minors was much higher in Latin America and that she was no point of comparison). At the time, she was wearing a pair of leather shoes and a black cotton suit, which was huge because, like most of her clothes, it had belonged to one of her mother's clients before it belonged to her. Her eyes were perfectly eyelined and her lips were covered in a blood-red gloss. Her bull-like nose piercing was a signature touch of hers, along with her cherry lollipops, honey eyes, close-cropped hair, and out-of-control laugh.

    Alexandra was gorgeous.

    Almost opposite to Julieta.

    But identical to her.

    They  both were brave like nobody else.

    And that was what Alec admired the most.

    Still, Alexandra dressed the way she dressed to provoke people. She liked to blow things up, people included. She dressed extremely formal for PE or wore her low-cut dresses when they went to school, which had a strict dress code (that's why Alexandra lived in detention). Regardless, her style always embraced punk and grunge, which she loved the most in the world.

     “Where are we going?” Alec asked, though he was aware that not even Alexandra was sure of the answer.

     “To the unknown,” she replied. “To the future.”

     Alexandra squeezed Alec's elbow tightly and began to run, like she never ran in PE classes. People looked at them, judged them as they passed; they were just another couple of drunk teenagers in love. However, Alec didn't drink and Alexandra wasn’t drunk yet, so part of the people's judgment was wrong.

   As always.

   Alec laughed heartily, for no other reason than the fact he was happy to be alive, to be together with  a human being like that, to be able to love someone with such intensity and to be loved too. He was wanted , he was loved, he was, he was, he was. He could love, he could wish, he could be himself with others, especially with the girl who ran beside him because he knew  she would never lie to him and that she knew him and he knew her and she was...

    “You are pure light, Alessandra Onitraze,” Alec whispered in Alexandra's ear, when they pulled into an alley to refill for their laughter.

    Alexandra drew a semi-suppressed smile, her lips were posing strangely, making them look like a pout, although Alec knew that was her most genuine smile.

    “Ti amo anch'io, Alec Artino,” Alexandra replied, also in a powerful whisper. Alexandra wrapped her arms around Alec's neck, placed her hands under his skull (to support it) and kissed the boy's lips without warning, passionately. Alec didn't move, didn't say anything; they had never kissed in their entire relationship, because Alec wasn't ready, and even though he thought he was ready at the time, it was a lie. His lips rejected Alexandra's as positives rejected positives, and negatives rejected negatives. However, he let Alexandra kiss his lips, without pain nor glory.

    Alexandra pulled her lips away from Alec's.

    “I’m-I’m...sorry,” Alexandra apologized, her chin up, her eyes ashamed.

    “It’s okay, but please don’t do it again” Alec said, a bit embarrassed because he felt like he shouldn’t feel like that and there he was, asking for his girlfriend not to kiss him. Alexandra’s smile disappeared slowly, and her expression became uncomfortable, guilty.

    “Come on,” she said, when she walked away from Alec and the alley. “I know a good place to drink and chat properly.”

    Alec nodded and followed his beloved's path through the streets of Gatlon City. That weird feeling of putting boundaries went away when they arrived at the place Alexandra had guided them. The night was alive, alive, alive. They were alive, alive, alive. Alec couldn't believe that he existed, that he was loved, that he could love.

     It seemed like a dream, one that Alec didn't want to end.

     But it would have to end, eventually.

                                                                -

    “Where have you been?”

    David blushed.

    It was past  two in the morning. Alec was sitting, his white shirt unbuttoned and a cup of cold coffee in his hand (he had made it when he got to the apartment and had not even taken a sip from it). Alec was sitting in the starkest gloom, fraying and analyzing the memories of that night (all the drinks Alexandra drank, all the times Alexandra apologized, all the repulsion that being kissed generated in him, the family-size pizza they ate, the lump in his throat that prevented him from eating most of dinner, the awkward silences between them, Alexandra’s visible guilt among them). Just when Alec was mesmerized, fiddling with his hair and stirring the coffee automatically with a spoon, the boy heard the sound of tin keys hitting the lock, and the door opened to make way for his older brother, David.

    David was dressed very smartly, and not in his usual dusty or beige colors. He had even combed his hair to the side. Alec arched an eyebrow, dismissive but disinterested. He took a sip of the iced coffee and suppressed a grimace at how disgusting the coffee was as his gaze swept his brother's unusual appearance.

    Since they had moved to Gatlon, they had drifted apart on astronomical levels, with the occasional approach consisting of a 'hello', 'good night' or 'good morning'. David had his friends, his job, his life. Alec had his friends, who were his life, and nothing else. Although David had tried to get close to Alec  again, and vice versa, they were never ever there for each other when they needed it the most.

    Never.

    And that generated very deep marks, the kind that are indelible and are marked with fire and ink in the depths of the soul, the kind that eat away at you until you eat all your love for the other person and leave only memories impregnated with resentment.

    They did not have a good relationship, after everything that had happened.

    Anyways...

    “I met someone,” David replied, hanging his jacket (his father's, actually) on the coat rack near the door, which had been pulled from a trash can. Alec remembered once delusionally asking his father for that same jacket and earning himself a beating. Those kinds of memories were as sweet as his coffee.

    He also wanted to dump them down the drain.

    “Who?” Alec insisted, bordering on impatience. Alec wasn't sure why he was so irritated. Maybe because he felt bad about not wanting to kiss his girlfriend. Perhaps because he loved her too much and was afraid of letting her down. Maybe because his brother was a selfish jerk. Maybe he was just angry because he wanted to be. Maybe his powers needed to explode and were manifesting in him that way.

    He wanted to grunt.

    He wanted to scream.

    He wanted to explode.

    Why had his damn brother had to come back?

    “Her name’s Tala Bulan,” David said, flatly. His voice sounded like a syrup jar about to overflow. A smile never used in front of Alec, spread across his older brother's face.

    Disgusting.

    Alec sighed, exasperated. One voice in his head was asking him to calm down, the other was encouraging him to explode. Alec came to a halt, his heart pounding like a bomb. He went into the kitchen, which was two steps from the grimy chair, and leaned against the wooden counter next to the sink, with his back to his brother.

    “That’s all that you have to say? Will you ever give details, David?” Alec complained, following the advice of that harsh and insistent voice; but then he listened to the soft and loving voice to reconsider and affirm: “Whatever, I don't care and it's not my business.”

    “Are you dating someone, brother?” David asked, genuine confusion dripping from his voice. He was more lost than humanity itself.

    Alec snorted and responded with tons of sarcasm. If he was already run out of patience for no apparent reason, his brother had exhausted the reserves he didn't know he had.

    His coffee cup smashed on the metal of the sink, just because of his mind and his fury. How could a person be so self-centered, so distracted, so…?

    Agh!

    “Of course not, I just like to go out late at night on my own and dressed in my best clothes. Of course I'm not seeing anyone!” Alec replied, spitting out the words, throwing them like knives. He left the mug there, not bothering to clean the ceramic pieces and headed for his room, a time bomb on his chest.

     David nodded. He was as capable of recognizing that he was an idiot as he was of recognizing sarcasm when he heard it. In other words, he was completely incapable.

     Alec huffed, pissed off, and stomped the floor, a highly unseemly act of him. In the sink, Alec sensed the remains of the cup and smashed it further, making sure to produce an awful noise. David didn't even flinch, just looked for another cup in the cupboard. Alec growled audibly, he was furious and didn't know why, he was furious and he needed to break something else.

     What is wrong with me? Is it because of Alexandra? he asked himself.

     I don't know.

     Alec screamed, frustrated by the answer he had been given, and fell to his knees to the ground, frantically tugging at his wavy hair. He pulled out a couple of hairs and his vision clouded with a smoldering darkness like embers, spreading like black ink, threatening to reach his mind and corrupt it. That danger caused by Alec himself, added to the fury that was already splitting his soul, ignited the trigger of the boy's powers.

     Once again, the building at Drain Way and Southwest 435, shook, as it has shaken since the Artinos moved there. The floor tilted to one side and the other, the walls moved as if they were made of jelly, the chair bounced as if the floor were a trampoline and the only thing that was still inside the shaking, was Alec himself, who kept his eyes closed.

     “Alec!” exclaimed David, now alarmed and (moderately) aware of what was happening to his brother. He approached him  with difficulty and knelt to rest one of his hands on his shoulder, trying to help him. It was helpful, as it brought him back to reality, stopping the shaking and leaving the hammering of his heart as the only noise.

     Calm down, calm down, calm down.

     Alec took one, two, three, ten deep breaths until he was mostly calm. He opened his eyes, plunged into his brother's, and tried not to drown. He swallowed hard, looked away, and said nothing. He squatted uncomfortably, clasped his palms close to his face and closed his eyes again, searching for wisdom.

      What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?

      The answer was not visible in his mind, so perhaps it was not the right question. He felt how David gave him space, left him alone, and went back to his business. The visible problem (the shaking) was already solved and that was what mattered to his brother, not if Alec had already found what he was looking for. The boy rephrased the question, made it more demanding.

      What must I do?

      The answer showed itself before Alec's consciousness, as if drawn by his telekinesis.

      He shall speak to Alexandra.

[iwachans-beefyarms]

Hey everyone! Ok so first off, I’m really sorry for being hella inactive, it’s been a rough few months with exams and stress and seasonal depression HAHA but i’m better now! Unfortunately tumblr decided to delete a lot of my requests so I’m opening requests up again, so please feel free to drop by!!! This was a fun story to write, and I personally really love Sakusa’s character. I was heavily motivated by @sachiwrites‘s take on his character so hope I did u proud >.< I was also gong through a really stressful time while writing this so I thought it would be interesting to see how the reader’s own stress and depression would affect her relationship with Sakusa, someone who already had his own setoff problems. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy!

Original request: Hiiii ! lately, sakusa stole my heart >< so iy would be nice of you to write something about him !! Like something angtsy but with a fluffy end please, love me some emotional rollercoaster ride ^^

Truthfully, Sakusa Kiyoomi was indebted to you. He was acutely aware of how difficult he could be to handle. In fact, he had fully prepared himself for a life of solitude by the time he graduated from middle school. Who would want to spend the rest of their life with a person as complicated and fastidious as him? More so than that, Sakusa could not fathom having to care for another person so intimately. While he would like to pretend that his reasons for never taking interest in the pursuit for a lover were entirely born out of his insecurities about himself, the truth was that he was honestly just entirely too selfish to bother with a committed, loving relationship. He was not prepared to nurse any potential lover if they ever fell sick, or to have to go on spontaneous and wild dates just to please them. There were too many compromises that made a healthy relationship and Sakusa was not interested in making any of them. Life was too much of a burden as it already was; there was no need to worsen the weight of it.

Which is why he was so surprised when you whisked into his life, dancing up a storm in his heart. When he had first met you, he was utterly and completely blown away. He had been alone at the back of his school’s building trying distressingly hard to slow his breathing. He was panting-- no, hyperventilating. It was a panic attack of course, something he had gone through many times in his life, and something he thought he should be used to. However, the frequent occurrences of this attack on his lungs did not prevent him from feeling like he was on the edge of death everytime they came. This is it, this is really it. He heard himself think, his inner voice booming against the walls of his skull. In his crouched position, he saw the movement of feet through his peripheral vision. Too preoccupied to care, he ignored the actions of this unknown person and continued to focus on getting his breathing back on track. He noticed them, a girl maybe, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small bottle. It looked like… sanitiser maybe?

“Hey, eyes on me okay?” She spoke, her voice coming out muffled and soft against the loudness of his own heartbeat. Stressed and confused, he looked up at her as she carefully applied the liquid on her hands. Her thorough and smooth movements somehow helped him as he realised his vision had started becoming a lot less blurry. She came down to his level, and gently took his hands into hers.

“Breathe, 1, 2, 3. Exhale, 1, 2, 3. Come on, I’ll do it with you,” She spoke again, her voice confident and commanding, as she rubbed small and firm circles around his hands with the bud of her thumb. They stayed that way for nearly twenty minutes before Sakusa’s breathing finally came down from being erratic to somewhat normal. He was still panting, but he could think clearly now and he no longer heard his own heart beating in his head. She had stopped holding him by then, thank God. When he finally mustered up the effort to speak, all he could say was, “Who?”

With a small smile you replied, “Y/n! I’m in the class next to yours and we’ve never really met but I remember seeing you around quite often, Saskusa.” He was quite surprised when he realised you remembered his name. In all honesty, he had never seen you before. Maybe he had but he normally couldn't care less about other people. He didn’t even remember the names of some of his own classmates so why would he bother with a stranger next door? Still, she had been kind enough to help him. Not only that, she seemed to be aware of his phobia and had accommodated to it, which was incredibly moving for him. In that moment he felt the rare feeling of gratitude grow in his chest.

“Thank you, you must be really attentive to have known to be so careful,” he whispered, voice still raspy.

“Not really, it’s kind of obvious,” she laughed nervously, as if she was trying not to offend. He wasn’t offended.

“Anyway, see you around!” She said cheerfully, after a couple of awkward minutes. “Don’t be a stranger,” she added while walking away. He didn’t bother gracing that with a response.

Your persistent personality was a catalyst for your friendship. The daily greetings and small-talk had forced him to get to know you better and, interestingly enough, he was not repulsed. He found out about that new book you were reading, and actually enjoyed it when he decided to give it a read. Also, it was a pleasant surprise when you told him that you used to play volleyball. So, your conversations grew longer and meetings became more frequent. Soon, he was meeting you after school on days he didn’t have practice and even spending his lunch breaks with you. You started to inch closer to him and began leaving soft, subtle touches on his skin. You were obviously trying to be discreet, but he was a person who was so painfully aware of everyone around him that of course he noticed. The surprising thing was that he didn’t mind. He knew you were hygienic enough for him to be comfortable so he began to let himself enjoy your affections.

When you confessed your feelings for him, he was not surprised. He knew from the beginning that you had a little crush on him and he even found it quite adorable. Had you asked him out a few weeks earlier, his answer would have been a hard no. However, getting to know you over the past few weeks had really changed his entire mindset about relationships. For the first time in his life, Sakusa felt like he could open himself up to someone. You had been kind enough to cater to his obsessive and exhausting personality. You were also completely comfortable with taking things slow. Above all that, you had an absolutely endearing personality. It was as if fate had intentionally sent you his way after torturing him for the past years, and he wasn’t one to let blessings like this slip away. So, when you confessed your feelings for him, he was not surprised. But you were, when he said yes.

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Dating Sakusa was going to be hard and you knew that from the very start. You weren’t naive, despite what your boyfriend might have thought. You paid him a lot of attention during the earlier stages of your friendship. You knew what he liked, what ticked him off, his pet peeves and at that point you could even tell his emotional state just by looking at the way his eyebrows moved when the rest of his face was covered by a mask. You also knew that the effort Sakusa put into your relationship was unparalleled to everything you had done for him. But, that was what you had signed up for. He had enough problems on his own trying to deal with the world with his own personal struggles so you strived to make life just a little bit easier for him.

However, after a certain point, you had to come to terms with the fact that you were your own person too. You were human too. It was easy to forget about yourself when you had been so invested in another person. The most difficult part of it all was being unable to see the fruition of all your efforts. You knew deep in your heart that Sakusa loved you. He let you kiss him, touch him and even let you sleep in the same bed as him at times. Despite that, you felt incredibly lonely in your relationship. Interacting with Sakusa started feeling almost burdensome. While your relationship had been quite a ride, built by reckless passions with bursts of feelings like joy, anger and love, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of staleness develop after a while.

It started very slowly. School had been getting ridiculously hard and Sakusa’s practices had been getting more frequent. Engulfed by the stresses of school, the two of you had gone nearly two weeks without properly speaking to each other. While Sakusa had seemingly remained unbothered, the realisation of that had completely shocked you. How could you go two weeks without any interaction with the person you loved, and not even notice it? The thing you felt most guilty about was actually the sense of peace you had experienced over those two weeks. Blindsided by your adoration for Sakusa, you hadn’t realised how draining it was being around him. When the two of you would spend time, you rarely ever took care of yourself. You’d clean the table for him when eating lunch at school because he absolutely refused to eat at those disgusting cafeteria tables, and would rather die than clean it himself. Hell, you’d even do a thorough cleaning of your own house just so Sakusa could come over and spend time with you. That, coupled with the natural angst that grows in you as a hormonal teenager, had caused you to grow more and more irritated with him.

Things you had previously found endearing about Sakusa now made your skin crawl. Even as your interactions grew less, you found yourself wanting to cry out in anger everytime he asked you to wash your hands before touching him. It was incredibly frustrating because all you wanted was some affection, and your boyfriend, of all people, couldn’t give that to you. It hurt because you had foolishly believed that if you could convince him that he was capable of being loved, he’d grow to be able to reciprocate those affections. But you were starting to feel scammed.

“Sakusa, do you want to go to that cafe I’ve been talking about?” You had asked one day, hoping to salvage your sinking relationship. He had to have noticed the drift, right? He’d want to fix it too, right?

“Huh? I don’t really feel like it…” He shuts you down just like that. Your hands are intertwined, as they usually were when you went home together, but for the first time, you untangle your fingers from his.

In hindsight, you realised that not all your feelings had been caused by your dysfunctional relationship. You had suspected that you were depressed months ago, but the problem had never been serious enough to warrant any major action so you ignored it. At least, that was what you told yourself. As time went by, it became nearly impossible to ignore. You couldn’t do your homework, you couldn’t sleep and eventually your appetite began to vanish. The rejection you felt from Sakusa had further sent you down a spiral of self-doubt. You hated yourself for being so selfish and you figured that maybe the reason Sakusa was drifting away from you was because it was you who wasn’t enough, not him.

It didn’t take long for your guilt to morph into anger once again. You had made no mention of your fractured state of mind to Sakusa, but it would not have taken a genius to figure out that you were not okay. Friends and teachers had approached you to check on you but the man you loved with every fibre of your being had never once mentioned anything to you. The two of you went about your days as you normally would. Little kisses hello and goodbye had become almost mechanical, and you cried yourself to sleep every night. You knew you should seek help soon, before it became even worse but you couldn’t bring yourself to overlook Sakusa’s indifference towards you.

You couldn’t brush your teeth. You stood in front of your bathroom mirror and furrowed your eyebrows at your reflection, toothbrush in hand. Why…? It’s just… move your hand…? It had been two days since you last showered. It physically hurt you to move and all you wanted to do was go back to bed. Still, being the responsible student you were, you went to school. You were late, none of your homework had been done but hey, at least you showed up. You knew your boyfriend was disgusted by your appearance because he had been avoiding you like a plague. You didn’t blame him, you looked as hideous as you felt. It felt like the end of your relationship was nearing and you shocked yourself with how relieving that felt. Maybe if you stopped seeing each other you could start feeling at least a little less miserable. Again, at least that was what you told yourself when you messaged him about wanting to talk.

When the two of you met at the rooftop where you had so often shared meals, the atmosphere was tense. It didn’t help that the afternoon sun was unforgiving and the air was humid. Your disheveled state in the heat made you want to claw your own skin out but you settled for subtly digging your nails into the palms of your hands. You had planned the conversation out thoroughly; first ask him how his day was, then let him down easy. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him. You knew how difficult getting into a relationship was for him and you didn’t want to completely turn him off from ever dating again.

Yet, when you saw the unreadable expression on his face with his fingers impatiently tapping the sides of his legs, your anger triumphed any semblance of civility you had planned.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Your words come out much softer than you anticipated but your voice shook. You could tell he was surprised by the way his eyebrows shot up.

“What do you mean I --”

“Shut up and listen, where have you been? I needed you, do you even care?” You were obviously crying at this point but Sakusa remained stunned to silence. “Screw you, Sakusa. Seriously, screw you,” you interrupt, your emotions clearly messing with your vocabulary.

“I’m your girlfriend, not your maid. I’m not just there to clean up shit for you! I have a life, I have feelings and I have been so miserable and you haven’t said anything,” You’re rambling but it was hard to stop once it started. You felt your vision blut from the tears and felt the snot running down your chin but you didn’t care. If Sakusa couldn't handle you at your worst then he sure as hell didn’t deserve you at your best. You continued your rant and poured your heart out to him. Unwittingly, you express your grievances about your own state of mind to him. You had wanted to keep your condition to him a secret for so long but there was no turning back now. He deserved to feel guilty, to hate himself for being such a terrible friend.

“I warned you about setting expectations. I told you that I’m not that guy. Why are you surprised now?”

His words seemed sarcastic but the genuinity in his voice as he responded triggered you. He wasn’t even trying to be hurtful, you knew that much. It was the fact that he hadn’t even tried to change for you that really broke your heart. Even though you had told yourself that you didn’t feel anything anymore, that the break up would be a relief, nothing in your nearly two decades of living could have ever prepared you for the heartbreak you felt in that moment. Seriously, it felt like your heart was about to fall from your chest, and you had to physically clench your fist against your chest to keep yourself from falling apart. You weren’t crying anymore, and there was nothing left to say. So, you walked away, and Sakusa didn’t bother stopping you.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sakusa Kiyoomi was indebted to you, this he knew for a fact. You had forced him out of his shell and had inspired him to be better. He never knew he was capable of doing something even as trivial as kissing, but with you he had been able to open himself up to so much more. Hell, he had had sex for the first time with you, something he had previously been unable to even fathom. It wasn’t just his comfort zone that you had expanded, you changed him for better. He was less cold towards others and he learned to appreciate the little things.

He remembered going to the beach once while you were on a date. He hated the sand in his shoes and he didn’t even want to think about stepping into the ocean. But, you had begged and begged for weeks and he eventually had to give in to you because, although he would never admit to it, seeing you smile made his heart flutter. You had forced him to take his shoes off and stand in the sand with you. With your eyes closed and hands raised, he watched you smile radiantly at the sky. He was transfixed, staring at you because how could someone be so beautiful and full of life?

“I love the feeling of the sun on my skin, it’s like being kissed by the sky don’t you think?” You had turned to face him, hands still in the air. Your words took him by surprise because Sakusa had never really seen the sun as anything but a source of humidity and a catalyst for disease. But the way you looked at him, the way your eyes sparkled; he couldn’t help but love the sun a little more from that day.

He really did love you, even if he wasn’t the best at showing it. So when you started getting dull, he noticed it immediately. He probably noticed it even before you had. The problem lay in the fact that he had no idea what to do. He figured, if you really needed help you would ask. But he knew that was just a pathetic excuse to avoid any kind of confrontation. Sakusa, for all his self-confidence, was incredibly insecure about his relationship with you. He never expected to cultivate such intense devotion towards you, but he did. And his biggest fear was that one day, you’d realise you were worth so much more than Sakusa could have ever hoped to offer.  You were perfect and ethereal. Everybody loved you and it was almost like the sky became brighter when you were around. As the days went by, he found himself becoming more and more blinded by you. You had inspired him to get help, but he held himself back because of the fear that if you ever did grow wiser and left him, all his efforts would have been for naught. Truly, Sakusa believed that he would never love anyone the way he loved you, ever. The fear of losing you frightened him more than anything and he was too afraid to change any aspect of your relationship in case it ever disrupted the balance the two of you had created.

Things had started to change when you grew darker over time. He saw you deteriorate with his own eyes, but he couldn’t do anything. He didn’t want to do anything. He told himself it was because he was afraid of hurting you even more, but Sakusa felt deep down that it was his selfishness once again preventing him from ever going out of his way to care for someone. He reasoned that you were smart enough to have no expectation for him, that you knew he was a self-centred prick. But seeing you cry in front of him had really sobered him up. He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much when he saw you clutch your shirt as you fought back tears. When you walked away, he tried so hard to move towards you, to stop you, touch you-- anything, really. But his feet were grounded and all he could do was watch. Sakusa was nothing if not proactive, and he knew he had to do something quick, before the damage done was irreversible. With a quiet sigh muffled by his mask, he leaned his head back, face tilted toward the sky and let himself get lost in his thoughts.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been two weeks since you spoke to Sakusa. You knew it was over but there had been a small part of you that had hoped he would approach you and you would both talk things out until everything went back to normal. Of course, that did not happen, and you were not surprised either. As much as you would like to believe in the romance of life that the media often tried to feed you, you were a realistic person who knew better than to have faith in some fantasy that only existed in your mind. At the same time, you were also, unfortunately, just a teenage girl whose heart refused to listen to her brain. Which was why, when your doorbell rang at 10pm that night, your heart skipped a beat in hopes that perhaps Sakusa had finally come to his senses and came to sweep you away.

What was more surprising than the fact that even after two weeks you still held some lingering hope that your ex-lover would come back to you was the fact that, indeed, it was him who stood at your front door. For a solid few seconds you could not move or say anything, as you took time to process the vision that was presented before you. Sakusa was wearing casual clothes and he sported his usual mask. However, it had been pushed down to collect at his neck, and you were gifted with the image of his whole face. His dark curls fell gracefully over his forehead and you noticed a slight sheen of sweat. Had he run here? What could he possibly want from you that was so urgent?

“Hello? Anyone home?” He asked. It took you a moment to realise he had just cracked a joke. Regaining your composure, you retort, “What the fuck do you want?” If he was hurt by your outburst, it certainly didn’t show.

“Look, before you say anything, please hear me out, okay?” He asked softly, taking a step towards you. Instinctively, you backed away. There was something different about him but you couldn’t place a finger on what it was exactly. His gaze on you felt stronger than ever, and he had a determined glint in his eyes that you had never seen before. You also noticed his posture. His shoulders were rolled back and he stood tall and proud, like he was so sure of himself. Whatever the source of his newfound confidence was, it made your heart hurt a little bit. You had been an absolute mess after the break up, while he had clearly been thriving.

“Sure. Whatever. Spit it out.”

“I love you, and I’m sorry for being such a jerk. I know I should have said this much earlier but I didn’t want you to think I was being insincere. I had to do something to prove to you how serious I was being,” He started, a small smile creeping on his face. You stared at him blankly, not understanding where this was going.

“Are you proposing…? Because I will say no!” You blurt out, panicking slightly. He blinked at you a couple times, obviously puzzled by your outburst. Then, he laughed. A full blown chortle. It was a rare Sakusa laugh that you had only witnessed a couple times before. With a big, bright smile, he shook his head and responded, “No, dumbass. I’ve been seeing a therapist.” The revelation was shocking, to say the least. But, before you could interrupt, he continued.

“When you left after our argument I realised how much I had been taking you for granted. I’m not good with expressing myself but I knew enough to realise that you’re the best damn thing that could have ever happened to me. You see, I knew this for a long time, I just don't know how to tell you. I don’t like people and I find relationships exhausting but with you, for the first time in my life, I want to try harder. I didn’t want to lose you. I spoke to my mother and she offered to take me to see a therapist. She had asked me before but I never felt the need to see one. But after our fight, I realised I had to grow up. I still generally hate people and I still don’t know how to say what I’m feeling. And I sure as hell still hate germs but, I’m willing to work towards getting better. For you. You deserve at least that. If you’re willing to take me back, I’d be lucky to have you with me while I do this.”

He ends his speech with his eyes still looking into yours, as if he was analysing your reaction. He had clearly rehearsed this, you could just tell. It was honestly quite cute and heartwarming because you couldn’t think of any other time Sakusa had tried this hard with you. Your chest swells with affection you had been repressing for the past couple of weeks as you grabbed his shirt and yanked him down to your lips. The kiss was sweet, and a little salty from the tears that escaped your eyes after his little speech. Sakusa wasted no time wrapping his arms around you as he pressed your body closer to him. You had become an expert at reading him since the start of your relationship and you could feel just how much he had missed you from the way he held you during that kiss. Pulling away, he let his hands slide up your arms and cup your face.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” He asks, breathless.

You weren’t an idiot. You knew things were going to be far from peachy. But for him, you were willing to risk the sun and the moon. You tell him this by taking his hands into yours and leaning up for another kiss.

[scatteredcloud]

Top Surgery: What Really Happens pt3 -Recovery

I’m on day 4 of recovery, and it’s been a lot of trial and error as to what works and what doesn’t. Like I said in part 1 and part 2, there’s no one solution, so try to anticipate what works for you but be ready to adapt if it doesn’t. I was pleasantly surprised to have over prepared because my pain level is quite low, but that seems to be the exception not the rule. A lot of the supplies mentioned here overlaps with what I said in part 1, this guide is about logistics.

Getting Ready - Day Of - Drains

-Plan to be sleeping, a lot. I get pretty down on myself when I sleep in, because it makes me feel like I’m not being productive, but what’s productive in the days after surgery is taking care of yourself.

Don’t expect to be back to normal within a few days. The way my surgeon broke it down was this:

1 week post op you’re back to 50%

2 weeks post op, you’re back to 80%

4 weeks post op, you’re back to full capacity.

This is a generalization of course, but recovery starts slowing down after week 2, which is why it’s so important to rest up during the first few weeks (especially because that’s when you take time off) You also have to get used to sleeping on your back, which I don’t think anyone actually does naturally. Weighted blankets are super nice for this if you have one, since it keeps you from tossing and turning. I have to take sleep meds anyways, but the pain killers they give you also knock you out.

-Speaking of meds... This was probably what I was the least informed on going into surgery.

This is my full list of medications and side effects that I’ve experienced. Asterisks next to what I was prescribed, I’ve linked to the drugs.com site for more information side effects and general info.

*Oxycodone- 5mg: as needed, every 6 hrs (painkiller)

Reminder that these are opiates, and appropriate caution should be taken. These made me particularly sleepy, and constipated. They also mess with your eyes, I have 20/20 vision but for the first time in my life I understood what it was like to be far-sighted.

*Cefadroxil- 500mg: every 12 hrs (antibiotic)

Obviously it’s important to eat in general while recovering, but also, antibiotics are the only mandatory medication and trying to take them on an empty stomach makes you super nauseous.

*Ondansetron- 4 mg: as needed , every 8 hrs (anti-nausea)

This was substituted for Zofran, not entirely sure why but I think it was something about interactions with other drugs.

Generic acetaminophen- 500mg, as needed every 6 hrs (tylenol)

You cannot have Aspirin, or any over the counter NSAID. They thin the blood and promote excessive bleeding. Aspirin, Motrin, Aleve, Ibuprofen, Excedrin, and Advil are all off limits.

Sennosides- 15mg- as needed (laxatives)

In addition to constipation from other side effects, it’s also just harder in general to get it out because of how sore your muscles will be. There’s no shame in it, it happens to the best of us.

Diphenhydramine- 50mg- 1 a day (sleep aid) 

-Altered mobility, what’s up with that? There are going to have to be some life style changes you make to enable getting around your space.

This is my set up:

Laptop, water, trash can, meds and extra supplies all within reach

Extra pillows to support my back

Lamp with a on/off button extension cord. I think it was originally for christmas trees but it’s nice to not have to reach up and turn the knob

Power strip with chargers

I’m sleeping on the couch because it’s 1. Closer to the bathroom and 2. My actual bed is a loft which isn’t exactly surgery friendly.

I covered the couch cushion in an extra sheet to make it less scratchy and in case of any leakage (There hasn’t been any though)

The name of the game is accessibility. I’ve been lucky to be able to move around and be up and about, but it’s still better to have everything within arms reach. The only issue I’ve run into with my set up is that sitting up is pretty difficult. Particularly with how wide this couch is, it’s hard to maneuver myself up and out

Also, get used to squatting down to pick things up, instead of leaning over. When you squat, you aren’t engaging your torso at all to reach something, which is ideal here.

Try and stick to chairs that have some sort of back support. I’m used to sitting on stools in my work area and that’s just not sustainable after surgery.

-Hygeine Full stop, you’re going to have to be gross for awhile. This (I suspect) is also why they ask you to go off hormones for awhile before surgery, because I’m definitely a lot less sweaty and gross than I would be otherwise.

You can’t shower until you get your drains out, and the ok from your doctor. This is to reduce the risk of infection and to keep soap out of your sutures. Shower gel is pretty much a no until everything is healed, unless it’s like ultra-sensitive, and unscented.(Double check with your doctor though) My boyfriend came over two days ago to sponge me down and wash my hair. Bar soap works well, because it’s easier to control where the soap goes, and it’s more sustainable. 

Do not try and bathe alone. Period. It’s not worth the trouble or pain, and you run the risk of getting things in your sutures

Washing your hair is going to be a bit of a debacle. If you have longer hair, brushing it regularly will help distribute the natural oils and help prevent them from building up. I personally don’t like dry shampoo, but others swear by it, so worth a shot. I’ve also talked to people who treated themselves to a salon visit, to get their hair professionally washed which also sounds lovely. My boyfriend and I managed with me leaning over the edge of the tub and him pouring water over my head. The important thing is to keep soap from running down to your chest.

For me, washing my face is really important to feeling clean. My skin is naturally oily, and I had to adapt my routine a bit, because my normal method is splashing a lot of water on my face. I’ve been learning to take the more civilized route and using a damp cloth to wash off the cleanser, like probably everyone else was already doing :P

I’ve seen a lot of people recommending wet wipes, to at least pull some of the gross off, and if that works for you go for it. I’ve only used them when I take off my compression vest to get some of the oil off of my chest gently.

-Your new chest Other surgeons wrap their patients up differently, but the only rule for me was not to wash the area, and that I had to have the vest on while I slept. Fingers crossed tumblr doesn’t nerf this one but this is what my situation looks like.

(CW: Stitches If you’re sqeamish, you might want to skip this, I certainly would)

The yellow sponge things are sewn on top of my nipple grafts to keep them in place, and then there are strips of medical tape holding the sutures together. Because they’re sewn to my body, I don’t have to worry about them shifting around, but nudging them even a little bit really hurts. The area on my chest went from super sensitive, to itchy and tender, to itchy and numb, to numb and tender. All of your nerves are either completely fried or severed, so even the most delicate sensations can feel really uncomfortable. My chest wasn’t ever particularly sensitive before surgery, so it’s weird being sensitive (but also not?) now.

When the compression vest is closed, I just have a couple layers of gauze pads on top of the stitches to keep them protected. I don’t really have any bandages, although I’m pretty sure that’s not the standard. The compression helps everything fuse back together correctly and squeezes out the fluids into the drains. (I’m making a post on that soon, I’m waiting to get my drains out first.)

I’ve left my vest unbuckled the past couple days to get some room to breathe, but I kept it closed the first 3 days and that seems to really help with minimizing the drainage. (The less drainage the better)

EDIT: I took my first shower in a week here’s my advice for that

Showers- As relieving as it is, you do still need to take some precautions. My shower is a stall with a fixed shower head, if you have a removable one then you’re in good shape- just get someone to get it down for you first. (No reaching over your head!)

- If your nipple grafts are still healing (which they probably will be if you got them), I highly recommend “transparent dressing covers”. Mine came in the box of extra gauze I got from CVS, but an overlarge water proof bandaid will probably do as well. They’re essentially just cling wrap (saran wrap w/e) for injuries. Theoretically you couple put them over the whole cuts? Imo that’s more trouble than it’s worth, you really can’t feel anything- but do what makes you comfortable.

-As always, different instructions for different procedures etc etc- the goal is to keep soap away from the incisions. Water is ok, but I was trying to avoid that as much as I could too. The good news is that all of the nerves are severed, so the discomfort isn’t as bad as getting a normal cut wet in the shower

- This took some experimenting, but the optimal position for me was back to the wall the dials are on. That way you can lean over (from the waist not the chest!) to get your hair in the water, without risking it dripping onto you. That being said, I have pretty thick, med length hair, so adjust as needed.

- I’ve been trying to switch to bar soap anyways, because it’s more sustainable, but personally it worked well for me. (Definitely make sure you can get a good grip on it though, pain killers can make you clumsy and it’s a bitch to crouch down to get it if it drops) My instructions were specifically to keep shower gel away from the incisions, so I just used bar soap.

- I didn’t do this, but retrospectively, keeping a clean sponge or a wet cloth on hand to get your arm pits would be pretty choice. Since you can’t lift your arms and in trying to keep soap away from your chest, it’s hard to get your under arms damp enough to get soap on, and then harder to rinse out.

- Getting out of the shower, make sure you have towels in easy reach. I’m pretty vigorous trying to dry off, because I hate the feeling of being wet, so I had to consciously slow myself down. Drying your hair goes more or less the same way as washing it, bending from the waist. There’s probably another method (getting someone else to help you ideally lmao) but because your can only really move your fore arms, this is the only thing I’ve been able to find that brings everything within reach.

- If you have a hair dryer, it works wonders for drying off hard-to-reach places. I was having a hard time getting my back fully dry, but pop that baby on and your warm and dry in seconds. 

Please let me know if you have any specific questions, my dms/ask box are always open, and I’m sure I’ve forgotten things.

[kimtanathegeek]

Two Brothers, Many Paths - Ch 21

These boys are growing up so fast. Have you guys noticed that Papyrus’ vocabulary and grammar has been slowly improving over the past few weeks (or chapters, in our case)? He’s such a smart cinnamon roll! :D

Thank you for reading! :)

—

Undertale copyright Toby Fox

Story and original characters by me, Kimtana

Please do not use without both permission and credit.  

Read below, or read it on AO3 here.  

First  

Previous  

Next  

Sans had run through several more tests of his new magic over the next couple days, his fear diminishing with each successful attempt. The horrific images and feelings no longer rushed into his mind, and he was able to go from place to place quicker each time.

After a few tries of increasing distance, Sans took his haversack and went to the darkened area. He grabbed as many mouseshroom nightlights as he could frantically stuff into his bag and returned to the shelter, ensuring that they now had enough food for the next couple weeks.

He didn’t like leaving Papyrus alone in the shelter, but he wasn’t comfortable taking his brother with him until he was confident that the trips were safe. So he made sure each trip lasted no more than a few minutes so that he could return as soon as possible.

After half a dozen trips, Sans started feeling the fatigue of his magical drain. He was reluctant to take a piece of dried fruit, since he only wanted to use them in case of an emergency. So once he started feeling the weakness affect him, he stopped traveling for the day and rested up in the shelter.

“So, what’s it like,” Sans asked as he rested against the bed on the floor. “When I...you know...go.”

Papyrus was sitting on the floor, playing with his tiny white bones. He jumped up and illustrated with gestures.

“Sas shut eyes like dis. Den, Sas walk, an big blue fiya gobble Sas up. Den Sas gone.”

Sans stared wide-eyed at his brother for a moment before blinking.

“Well, that sounds pleasant,” he gulped.

“Yeah,” Papyrus added as he went back to play with his bones. “Is cool!”

Sans blinked again, giving a false laugh. “Yeah...‘cool’.”

He was so glad he needed his eyes shut to do this new magic. Watching himself get devoured by a large blue flame was anything but ‘cool’ to him.

“Is it the same blue as our bone magic?” he asked curiously, pushing the idea of being set on fire out of his mind.

“No,” Papyrus answered, looking up at him. “Is blue like magic Mommy an Daddy make to make Sas an Pa go floatey.”

Sans furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

His parents knew how to use blue magic—darker blue than the light blue bone magic—which they used to either deaden Sans’ and Papyrus’ weights or to float them up like feathers. Sans had not seen them use it often, except in desperate situations.

Like the time Papyrus almost crawled over a cliff during a family night outing to watch the stars. Their father had made his brother’s soul turn blue, and he watched as Papyrus was lifted up and then pulled towards their father into his arms.

Then there was the time that a fierce storm broke the living room window. Their mother made their souls blue, and both Sans and Papyrus fell onto their stomachs as if their bodies were made of stone. While the boys stayed put, their mother cleaned up the glass. Once it was safe, their souls returned to their natural white color and they were able to move again.

So the magic that transported Sans to different locations was blue? Did that mean that Sans and Papyrus could do the blue magic as well as their light blue bone magic?

Sans held out his left hand at Papyrus, who was too busy playing with his bones to notice. Sans squinted his right eye so that his left eye widened, focusing on his brother’s soul deep within his chest, picturing it becoming blue in his ribcage. He tensed his fingers, gripping the air as if clutching the little skeleton’s tiny soul, and grunted deep in his chest. With great strain coursing through his left arm, holding his breath tightly in his lungs, he raised his hand to lift his brother up off the floor and into the air.

Nothing happened. Papyrus kept playing, unaware of anything that was going on around him. Sans’ arm dropped to his side as he caught his breath.

Guess not....

Sans laid his head back against the bed, looking up at the shelter’s ceiling, thinking things over as he rested, his body still tired.

Tired from having spent his last remaining ounce of magic on his return trip to the shelter a couple hours before.

 -

 The joyous expression on Papyrus’ face would not wane.

“Now, you’ve got to make sure you do not let go,” Sans said for the umpteenth time as he paced around the little skeleton.

“Yup,” Papyrus nodded.

“And don’t pull me, I need to concentrate,” he warned, sticking his hands in his pockets, then pulling them out, only to stuff them back in again.

“Yup,” Papyrus answered.

“Don’t pull away, whatever you do,” Sans instructed, sliding his hands up and down the haversack straps around his shoulders nervously.

“Yup,” Papyrus responded.

“And whatever you do,” Sans stressed, halting his pacing to stand in front of his brother. His voice was as shaky as his body. “Don’t panic!”

“Yup,” Papyrus replied.

Sans started pacing again, running his hands over his head, wiping the sweat and fear from his skull. He tried to steady his breathing as his heart raced.

This is wrong, it’s not safe, he could get hurt, what if he ends up like I did, why am I doing this, this is crazy, I shouldn’t be doing this, what was I thinking agreeing to this, we should just stay here—

“Sas!”

Sans froze, snapping out of his thoughts. He looked over at his brother—from the stressing tone in his voice, it wasn’t the first time Papyrus had called out to him just now.

“Sas, s’okay,” his brother said soothingly, smiling at his big brother. “We be okay.”

Sans looked at the confidence in his brother’s eyes and was encouraged. He sighed gratefully and nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll be ok.”

He held out his hand for his brother, and Papyrus grabbed it tightly.

“Ready?”

“Yup!”

“Ok,” Sans said, taking a deep breath. “Here we go....”

Sans shut his eyes, pictured the darkened area, and internally stated his desire to be there with his brother. Gripping Papyrus’ hand as if his life depended on it—which it did—Sans took a step forward. The two skeletons were engulfed with a blast of sharp wind, the loud fwoosh hammering against them.

It was only a fraction of a second, but it felt like years to Sans. He opened his eyes and saw the glowing mushrooms, sparkling gems, and heard the distant running waters of the darkened area. But he didn’t care about any of that right now.

He fell down onto his knees in front of his brother in a panic. He held Papyrus’ skull in his hands as he looked up to inspect any damage.

“Are you ok?!” Sans gasped, eyes darting as they looked for cracks, fractures, or holes. “Are you hurt?!”

Papyrus put his hands over his brother’s, shut his eyes tight, and cried out.

“Dat was so much fun!”

Great relief washed over Sans as he pulled his brother to him, hugging him tightly.

The little skeleton hugged his brother back, finally answering his brother. “Pa okay, Sas, Pa not hurt. Sas did it!”

Sans stood back up on shaky knees, glad that his fears went unfounded. He took a deep, cleansing breath and blew out the last bit of anxiety. They were all right, that’s all that mattered.

“Ok,” Sans said, struggling to steady his voice. “Let’s go explore a little further, see what we can find. And once we get to a new place, I will be able to get back to it again, so I want to cover as much ground as we can before we go back.”

Papyrus nodded, clutching the little bag at his hip preparedly.

They walked forth, hand in hand, towards the particular area Sans had wanted to check out for a while—where the swaying plants were. As they neared, they were exactly what Sans hoped they would be.

Reeds.

A large reedbed stood situated in the middle of a path that ran through a small body of water. The reeds swayed in the gentle breezes as one organism, undulating like the waters it neighbored. Tall and thin, the shoots appeared to wave a welcome to the two skeletons as Sans stood there, smiling.

“This is perfect, Pap,” Sans said, squeezing his brother’s hand gently. “We can use these reeds for tons of stuff. And, if we’re lucky, we will be able to eat some of them.”

He looked down at his brother and noticed that the little skeleton was imitating the swaying motion with his own body. It appeared Papyrus was happy with their new discovery as well.

Sans pulled out the sharp stone from his pocket and wasted no time in cutting down a large number of the reeds. He tied thick bundles of them up with twine and attached them to his haversack. They were quite cumbersome, but Sans didn’t mind, for their benefits outweighed their burden. He didn’t bother digging up their roots, since they still had no way to boil them, so he let them remain in the ground.

They continued on, pushing past the remainder of the tall grasses and ventured deeper into the area.

It was considerably warmer than the snowy valley, and the maze of paths proved to be quite confusing. The darkness was broken only by the bioluminescent mushrooms and lucent gems, but Sans didn’t see a need to create a blue bone to light their way. Water was everywhere, running along most paths and pooling in small ponds. There were many short waterfalls that cascaded down the various walls, spraying them with their fine mist as they walked past them. Their shoes sank into the dark blue hydric soil, their footprints filling up with water with each step. Sans looked back, dismayed that their footprints were easily trackable, but saw no way to prevent it.

Many of the gems were scattered on the ground, loose from their confines in the rocky walls. Sans picked one up, and he and Papyrus marveled at how it lit up in his hand. It wasn’t just reflecting light—it was creating it.

“Look, Pap,” he said, watching the blue light in his brother’s eyes. “It’s just like our magic.”

Figuring they would be useful, the two brothers collected as many as they could find, stuffing them into their bags. They found multiple blue gems that shone with the same blue-white light as skeleton magic, and a few pink gems—which were not as common as the blue ones.

Many of the paths ran alongside steep cliffs, and Sans had to keep Papyrus on his other side for fear of him slipping off into the unknown. Waterways emptied out over these cliffs, creating narrow waterfalls. Sans gulped as he could hear the rushing of the waters as they poured over the side, but no splashing came from below. It was if the entire area was suspended above an enormous bottomless pit. Sans shuddered, hoping that none of the paths gave way under their feet, sending them down into nothingness.

Papyrus was in awe at the snaking paths, thin walkways, and treasure trove of glowing gems to be found. He found the area fascinating, albeit quite humid. His head panned side to side, eyes wide with wonder, not at all like his brother’s cautious, somewhat timid reaction to this new place.

After several hours of exploring paths, backtracking dead ends, and avoiding perilous drops, Sans decided to call it a day. He studied the area they were in so that he could picture it when he needed to transport back here.

In a few short moments, they were back in the snowy valley, right next to their shelter, the wintry chill sending shivers up their spines. It was a drastic change of temperature, and they had acclimated to the warmer climate in the darkened area.

“Woo!” Sans said, rubbing the sides of his upper arms. “That wind sure is bone-chilling!”

Papyrus gave a shaky giggle through chattering teeth.

They entered the shelter, warming up with the heat emanating from the ever-present magical flame. Sans took off his haversack and grabbed their soaked, muddy shoes, bringing them into the fire room. He took handfuls of snow and washed them as best he could, telling himself that they should wash them in the waters of the darkened area next time before coming heading home. Then he set them against the wall to dry.

Papyrus had emptied the lucent gems onto the floor and was lit up in blue and pink hues. He took each one into his hands and scrutinized them, turning them around this way and that. Sans smiled at his curiosity and wonderment over the gems.

Sans, however, was most excited about the reeds. He untied the bundles and sat on the floor, separating the young, edible shoots from the drier, older ones.

He heaved a sigh, remembering when his mother taught him to work with reeds she would collect at the nearby lake. Reminiscing, he felt a pang of sadness as he held them in his hands, tracing their shoots with his fingers. There was never a day that went by that he didn’t miss his mother terribly.

Blinking back tears, he set back to his task. He was mildly frustrated because he realized he wasn’t able to do too much with the reeds because of their tool limitations and his lack of skill. He did, however, know that raw young, green shoots were edible—and a little sweet, too—and that dried reeds could be made into woven items, like baskets—which they desperately needed. But he couldn’t boil them, or make flour from them, couldn’t even make those sugary sweets with them that they liked—he stopped himself from continuing the list, getting far too discouraged with what he couldn’t do, and forgetting what he could do with them.

Sighing, he stripped the leaves off to burn, and tied the older shoots in small bundles with twine at one end. He got up and went into the fire room and hung the bundles up on the warming rack bones so that they would dry out completely. He tossed the leaves and broken, useless pieces into the fire basin and watched as the flames lapped them up. He checked on the pine cones and saw that they would be fully dried out any day now, then went back to the green shoots.

There weren’t too many, and they weren’t the best food, but it was an addition to their already limited diet. And Papyrus might like them, even if they weren’t boiled like the ones they’d eaten in the past had been. He stood them up against the pantry wall and returned to his haversack.

He dumped out the gems, their amusing glow burning away the last bits of frustration he held. Papyrus was right to be in awe—they were fascinating. He’d never seen anything like these before, and he wondered if they were products of monster magic or an incredible part of the natural world. He spent some time going through them, wiping away loose stone and dirt from their edges and shining them with the snow on his pants to enhance their light.

Soon they prepared dinner—Papyrus roasting mushrooms in the fire room and Sans at the prep table tearing up half a reed shoot into smaller pieces and shaping some gem-shaped snow treats for dessert.

Sans was right, Papyrus enjoyed the sweet, crunchy reeds. They went surprisingly well with the mushrooms—Sans figured this made sense since they came from the same habitat. It was a good addition to their food supply, and Sans was happy for that.

They played together after dinner, then got ready for bed. Sans put the gems in the fire room so the light wouldn’t keep them awake as Papyrus smoothed out the fabrics that would cover them. Sans settled into bed, then raised his left hand up to make his blue bones disappear, darkening the room. Papyrus pulled up the fabrics and they settled in for a well-deserved night’s sleep.

Sans hugged his brother, nuzzling the top of his head. He sighed in gratitude that he had not only gotten better enough with his magic that he could forage again, but that his brother was safe after transporting. He hoped Papyrus would never experience the horror he had suffered, and was immensely glad his brother had been spared that pain.

The two brothers drifted off to sleep, too tired and content for dreams or nightmares play out in their minds.

 -

 It was distant. The groaning. The shouting. The creaking. It played in the recesses of Sans’ mind.

It got louder. The sounds drifted into his senses like a far-off dream.

The loud crunching sound is what woke both of them up with a start.

The two skeletons nearly jumped out of bed at the terrifying noise. If they hadn’t been in the belly of a mountain, Sans would have thought it was thunder. They sat there, confused and shaking, the sounds of their gasping breaths echoing off the shelter walls.

“Sas?” Papyrus’ whisper was tinged with a scared whine. “Wass dat?”

Before he could answer, they heard muffled shouting.

“Shh!” Sans shushed urgently, though he need not have done. Papyrus was frozen in fear, too afraid to make a sound.

Neither of them moved or breathed. Sans’ ears were straining to decipher more sounds.

Another groaning—what was that?—then more creaking. Silence followed, then another loud crash, startling them again.

Sans turned to his brother. “Papyrus, do not move, do not make a sound, do not leave here. I am going to check it out. Do not come out. If it’s danger, I will come get you, but do not leave without me.” His voice shook, betraying his panic.

Papyrus nodded, tears brimming his eyes.

Sans slipped out of the bed slowly, expecting someone to burst into the shelter at any moment. He crept to the opening, wincing as the sounds continued. Formulating escape plans for him and his brother, he crawled out the opening and dug a small hole in the entrance. Peeking through to make sure no one was outside, he then dug the rest out and cautiously poked out his head.

The sounds were louder, but came from far behind him—near the cavern. He stood up on shaky legs, making sure no one was around, and closed the entrance back up. He inched his way around the shelter, then the boulder, and looked towards the cavern.

His eyes widened as he saw the source of the noise.

The forest near the cavern had thinned out. He could see movement within the trunks, but they were too far away for him to see clearly. There was shouting, but he couldn’t make out any words. Then he heard the groaning sound again—and saw the top of one of the trees leaning. There was an aching, creaking sound as the tree fell, then all was quiet. Suddenly, the loud crash of the tree hitting the ground resonated through the valley.

The monsters were cutting down the trees. They were back out in the valley again.

Sans rushed back into the shelter. He calmly told Papyrus what was going on as he grabbed his jacket. Papyrus relaxed a little until Sans told him he was heading back out again.

“I’m going to watch them, make sure they don’t go any further than the trees. You stay here, get some more sleep, and stay safe. The moment they start heading for the shelter, I will come back here and we’ll escape to the darkened area until it’s safe to come back. But you need to stay here while I watch them. Ok?”

“Kay...,” Papyrus whimpered, fear rising in him at the thought of being caught.

Sans finished shoving on his shoes and went over to the bed and hugged his brother tightly.

“I love you, Papyrus. No matter what happens, we’ll get through this. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, ever.”

“Love you, too,” Papyrus whimpered in Sans’ chest.

Sans went back to the opening, turning to his brother one last time.

“Stay here, stay safe. I’ll be back soon.”

Sans could see his brother nodding in the dimly lit room.

Sans left, sealed the opening, stood up, and, with a step, disappeared.

[howrry]

malibu

i wanna be a writer™ so i wrote this on a whim. enjoy

warning: smut lmao

w/c: 2.7k

You flipped through your Snapchat stories, tapping through videos of your girlfriends dancing in cages at some bar. They'd all invited you to go, but frankly spending money on the cover fee and overpriced, watered-down drinks (only to end up sweating off all your makeup) was starting to get kind of old. And it wasn't exactly like the selection of men in those places was worth all the hassle.

For a brief moment, you wonder what your best friend H is up to, before quickly remembering that he's with his girlfriend Anya. He'd mentioned a few days prior that they'd be going to some house party (which, of course, you mocked him for. Who goes to house parties after 20?).

You liked Anya. She was beautiful yet multifaceted-- she loved playing all kinds of instruments and even impressed you by effortlessly playing a song on a harp that was out at a work get-together. You also learned of her passion for animals, as she'd spent her youth working in and out of animal shelters. She was kind and warm, much like Harry, and her sense of humor was impeccable. She even respected your friendship with H and trusted the both of you. It wasn't often that you supported H's girlfriends, but you really thought he'd hit the nail on the head with her.

You often wondered why you were so critical of his past partners. This one has no fashion sense, that one is too judgmental of H's friends, that one eats a paleo diet and won't shut up about it, on and on. Your other male friends would bring home the trashiest mean girls and you'd high five them like some kind of frat boy, yet you expected some level of perfection with Harry. For the most part, you chalked it up to being so close with him and knowing what he truly deserves. As far as you knew, he deserved Anya.

The marimba tone of your phone spooked you, and you checked it seeing Harry's face pressed up against glass.

"If ya take a picture like this and make it my contact photo, it'll look like 'm trapped in your phone when I call yeh!" He'd giddily explained before smashing his face against the shop window. You couldn't imagine the shop owner was thrilled about having to clean the glass, so you snapped it as quickly as possible before dragging your best friend away.

You smiled at the memory and slid your finger across the screen to answer the call. "Hey, what's up?" you asked, grabbing a glass and filling it with water with your phone tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

"Can we hang t'night?" he muttered without any other introduction.

Your brows furrowed. "Sure, but aren't you supposed to be with An--"

"Change o'plans," he cut you off. "Your place, ten minutes?"

"Sure. See you soon, H." The call cut off before you could even take the phone from your ear. Harry has always been a fast-paced person so you didn't really think much of this.

You drained your glass of water and did some lazy tidying up (not that H would've minded either way, he tended to be just as messy as you). The whole ten minutes hadn't even passed before you heard the powerful knocks at your apartment door.

Upon opening it, he immediately stepped in and engulfed you in a big hug, something not uncommon for him. "How y'doing?"

You pulled away and smiled. "Same as I was earlier today when you called me." You turned around and went back into your living room, him trailing behind you. "Not much excitement going on here, but I figured we could watch Gossip Girl or sommat," you offered, smirking a little. You had shown the series to him a few weeks ago, to his initial disgust.

"It's a bit garbage, don't ya think? It's like New York wankin' itself off," he reprimanded when you'd first suggested it to him. "The plot's fine but its just not realistic. Nobody invests that much time or energy into someone for the sake of gossip." You were ready to accept defeat with this failed recommendation until the next day you walked in on him watching it without you, much to H's chagrin.

"Sounds good, but do you have somethin' t'drink?" he asked, taking off his coat and scarf before tossing them on one of the chairs.

"Water, cranberry juice, I think I have a LaCroix that you left in there last week I refuse to touch..." you listed things that you remember having available, making him smile a little.

"No, no, somethin' more... adult-oriented?" he clarified, following you into the kitchen.

You couldn't help but laugh at his word choice. "I killed off the last of the wine a couple nights ago, but I think I have some Malibu left over, if that's okay?"

His eyebrows knitted together as he leaned back on the counter, arms spread out a little. "Malibu? What are yeh, a little uni party girl?"

"Piss off. You want it or not?" you asked, pulling the handle out of your pantry and presenting it to him like a fancy wine bottle.

Harry bounced off the counter and wrapped his arms around you yet again. "M'sorry, and yes, I would. I'll get the glasses." He knew exactly where all your dishes were and grabbed two identical shot glasses you bought out of impulse. Neither of you two were heavy shot-takers and would rather sip glasses of Chablis and moscato than pound back liquor, but sometimes, like this evening, the purchase proved worth it.

Harry was bartender this evening, and the two of you each tossed back three in a row before you were coughing and scrambling for the aforementioned cranberry juice as a chaser. You drank the juice straight from the bottle while in the meantime, your best friend took two more.

You wiped the juice that had spilled down your chin with the back of your hand and yanked the handle away from him before he could pull another. "Jesus, Harry, slow down. What's with you tonight?"

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, rubbing his face with his big hands. He took the juice from you and drank some from the bottle just like you did. "Just needed t'get my mind off of work n'life n'whatnot."

"Drowning it in white rum is definitely not the best method. Wanna talk about it?" You screwed the cap back on both the juice and the Malibu and put both away in their respective spots before leading Harry back to the couch.

"Not really. Jus' wanna watch the show." He didn't say much after that, but you trusted him to open up when he was ready, so you didn't push him much further.

Your seating arrangement was fairly normal, Harry taking one side of the small couch and spreading his legs. You sat on the left of him and tucked your knees to your chest as you queued up the episode Victor, Victrola.

Without saying anything, Harry grabbed both your legs and turned you so that your legs were on his lap, making you squeal a little in surprise. This position was tried and true between you and Harry, but it had been retired since Anya came into the picture. While a tiny part of you missed the physical touch between you and your best friend, most of you respected the relationship H had. Afraid of freaking him out and making him push you off, you didn't say anything about this sudden change.

"Y/N, get upppppp," he groaned, attempting to pull the blankets off of you. Fortunately, your death grip on your comforter prevented him from exposing you to your room's cold air.

"I'm tired, and it's so cold out. The park is not going anywhere!" you groaned right back, pushing your face into the pillows even more to block out the sunlight Harry'd introduced to the room when he opened your curtains.

"Okay, then." Harry quite literally jumped into bed with you and wrapped his entire body around you, burying his face in your neck. You cried out at his freezing nose pressing into your warm skin and tried to wriggle away from him, but it was his turn to have a death grip, this time on you. "Nope, not lettin' yeh go now. Wanna stay in bed? Fine, you'll stay in bed."

The two of you watched in silence, but you couldn't help but steal glances at him. His face was fairly neutral, fixating on the screen with not much visible emotion.

"'S not polite to stare," he muttered, not drawing his eyes away from Blair giving Chuck a dance in the night club.

You inhaled sharply through your nose. "It's also not polite to hide what's wrong from your best friend," you countered, reaching up and turning his head to face you.

He sighed. "Jus' a lot on my mind. Thanks fo' letting me come over, means a lot." He pushed a ring-clad hand through his dark hair to get it out of his face.

"'Course, Harry, that's what I'm here for," you smiled, which you quickly lost when you realized he was leaning in to you. Your best friend, who very much had a girlfriend, was leaning in for a kiss.

You put your entire hand on his face to stop his movements. "What are you doing?" you asked slowly, emphasizing each word. Your hand slowly dropped, and your thumb caught his bottom lip, making it pull down and pop back into place.

"Didn't know yeh were so foreign to the concept, but I'm trying' t'kiss you," he cooed, "and maybe a little more," his big hand gripped your thigh and started sliding inwards, a move that crossed a boundary the two of you had never even come close to.

Once again, your hand stopped his advancements. "Harry, you're drunk, and you have a girlfriend!" You tried to get up off the couch but he grabbed your legs and pulled you even closer to him.

"T'be completely fair, you're drunk too," he giggled, pushing his hair off his face again (and damn him if he wasn't right). "And I don't have a girlfriend anymore."

You reared your head back in shock. "What? When did that happen?"

He shrugged. "Was at a party tonight and I lost her, so when I went looking for her I caught her making out with... with Clare," he spat.

You gasped. "Clare?! I didn't... but I thought... she--"

"Doesn' matter what we thought 'cause we were wrong," he cut you off. "But now that I don't have to worry about tha', all I can think about is how much I wanna kiss you."

You sighed, weighing your options. "You're sure this isn't a heartbroken rebound?" you asked, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers through his.

He lifted to kiss it, leaving a small wet patch. "'M not that heartbroken anymore, was just in shock. Besides, if it was that, I wouldn't have come here," he paused to stroke your cheek with his free hand. "You mean too much to me to be a rebound." He'd almost seemed disgusted at the idea of you being something so quick and meaningless.

You smiled softly and looked down at your lap, but he caught your chin and lifted you back up. You barely had time to react when he pushed his plushy lips against yours.

He tasted like rum and mint, and his lips were so soft you couldn't help but lean in more. One of his arms snaked around the small of your back and pulled you in closer so you were now fully sitting on his lap. You wrapped one of your arms around his neck and his mouth opened, giving you access to his tongue. The kiss deepened even more, and you decided to get a little bold.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you were just drunk on Harry, but your teeth grabbed onto his bottom lip gently and pulled it back before letting go, leaving him pink-cheeked and wide-eyed. "Darling, please, you must let me do more," he croaked, his voice a little hoarse from kissing.

You simply nodded and whispered, "My bedroom?" before he scooped his arms under you and carried you to the bed and tossed you on it.

In two swift moves, he removed your shirt and popped the hooks on your bra, leaving you bare-chested. He didn't have to break the kiss to wiggle down your shorts and underwear, and before you knew it, you were completely naked in front of your best friend. Or, whatever you were now.

The fact that it was Harry was absurd enough, but him being ten times more clothed than you left you feeling surprisingly comfortable. With any other guy, at this point, you'd be awkwardly tugging at his clothes to level the playing field, but you felt no such urges at this point.

And neither did Harry, apparently, as he immediately began kissing and sucking at any skin he could get his lips on, leaving you with wet patches and small hickies all over your chest and neck. Eventually, he sat back on his heels straddling your thighs and was carefully running his hands up your entire body. He started at the sides of your thighs before trailing them up to the swell of your lower belly, up to your breasts (his callouses stimulating your nipples but you managed not to arch your back), to your collarbones and finally resting on your jaw.

You were never quite relaxed when this kind of gaze fell on you, but with your closest friend you'd never felt so comfortable in your life. You smirked a little before asking, "What are you doing?"

He smiled back. "You're just so beautiful. Never though' I'd have you like this 'n now that I do I can barely believe it."

You were touched, but before you could reply he was moving his way back to part your thighs, exposing your center to the cold bedroom air. Harry took his time kissing around your legs, intentionally avoiding the one place you needed contact the most. You moaned softly and started giving into that earlier urge to arch your back, and, hey, who was Harry to deny what you so needed?

He gave no warning before diving into your center, eating with an inexplicable passion. He experimented with what elicited more sounds from you, from flat, soft licks to pointed strokes of his tongue. One of his hands snaked up to play with your breasts while the other held your hand, interlocking your fingers in a way that was almost sweet. Your free hand, however, wasn't quite as pure, as you laced it into his dark curls and used it as a method of grinding down onto his mouth.

"'S right, darling, use me t'get yourself off," he moaned into your pussy, making you gasp.

The sounds coming from Harry and his actions was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and you were so overwhelmed you could barely choke out, "I'm so close, Harry."

This, of course, only spurred him on as his hand left your breast and trailed down to your core. He slipped in two fingers and hooked them up, fully pushing you into your orgasm. You moaned and arched into him and he didn't stop eating until you were trying to pull him off of you by his hair. When you lifted his head with the hand gripping his hair, he came up with a lazy smile on his face, almost childlike. His chin was dripping with your slick.

You were still heaving by the time he crawled back up to lie next to you. "Do you... do you want me to--" you tried to ask in your post-orgasmic haze.

He shook his head. "Nothin' personal, love, but 've had a lot t'drink 'n don't think I could get it up right now," he mumbled before settling into the bed next to you. You couldn't even ask anything else before you heard the soft snoring of your best friend next to you.

Wow, he was really drunk. And, best friend? Was he really that anymore? Could you two even be friends after this? You finally decided that these were morning questions and you'd answer them tomorrow. Imagine your shock, of course, when you woke up the next day and felt around your bed only to find sheets and cold air and no sign of Harry.

[natwantstowrite]

Soukoku Angst Week 2019

Updated Version on [AO3]

Day 1: Flowers | "We Need to Talk"

The flowers in his hands felt like a ton of bricks. The bandages wrapped around his neck, chest and arms that covered countless wounds weighing him to the ground and preventing him to move. The monotonous beep of the monitor adding sharp twinges to his never-ending headache.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Shouldn’t be standing here whilst his partner was in a hospital bed on deaths door. This wasn’t his territory anymore, he wasn’t his responsibility anymore. This shouldn’t matter anymore because the mission was a success and he’s alive. Move on.

But no matter what, regardless of the circumstances between their relationship and their professions and as reckless as it may be, he kept coming back.

Dazai took heavy, guilt-ridden steps towards his body, heart torn at the image bestowed in front of him. Trembling fingers grip the paper-thin curtain obscuring his view, dragging it to the side gently to see his body laid there. Blanketed, with dozens of wires and monitors surrounding the bed, no skin escaping into the air. Concealed with bandages that only left his face revealed, but even that had an oxygen mask covering half his features.

Suddenly, that monotonous beeping sounded more painful.

Dazai didn’t know why he should be surprised, with guilt lodged in his throat and suffocating his lungs, he knew what he had done. How close he had gotten.

There were already flowers on his bedside table. Some kept in vases, some left in their wrappings, but all showing the different signs and stages of decay. Though to Dazai, time felt irrelevant when everything in the past two days had been revolved around Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya. Scavenging for information, pressing for details, endlessly bringing bouquet after bouquet so when he wakes up he’d be first thing he sees.

Took you long enough, he’d say, meeting those cerulean eyes of his. And for once, maybe he’ll show Chuuya a genuine smile.

The beeping brings him back to reality, where one of his hands have involuntarily moved to Chuuya’s face, caressing cold cheeks with his fingertips brushing against auburn lashes. He felt the tremors of that night shaking his hand and he jerks it back as if his skin was scorching. But it was as pale as ever, the colour drained and almost as white as the bandages that caged him. The only juxtaposition visible was his lashes and his lips. Though lighter than their usual red, his mouth looked just as kissable as the first time Dazai saw them.

He was so close. So close to failing.

So close to losing his trust.

—

They were holding him back. These fucking idiots were blocking his path to him as they run in masses towards the rapidly forming destruction. Destruction he knew was created by none other than his partner. But regardless of him using it without his acknowledgement. He knew the philosophies Chuuya had placed when using Corruption, how he only used it in the direst situations when he needed defence. And Dazai could feel the fear building up in his chest.

He had to get to Chuuya.

But life has its inconveniencing ways that forces you to make decisions you don’t want to make.

One particular ability user, with a gift that Dazai will frankly say he forgot, somehow manages to delay him even further. Binding him to the ground in agony with a kick to the chest and a punch to the stomach, and Dazai knew that somehow, they had information on him and his ability.

He was meant to be there with Chuuya, by his side.

Why did he tell him to fight on his own while he looks for the reports?

He didn’t mean to get caught, if he had known he would never have told Chuuya to say those words, to put his faith in him one more time. But here he was, restricted to the ground in his own stinging discomfort from a couple of kicks and punches. Though as if the ability user was done toying with Dazai, he somehow deems Dazai inconsequential, joining the masses to deal with the impending issue of Chuuya.

Though if you ask him now, he wouldn’t be able to tell you how long it took him to get to Chuuya. Call it negligence or guilt, Dazai wouldn’t know. He just knew that it wasn’t quick enough. But Chuuya was still there, still fighting with impending anger, blood layering his skin and spilling from who knows where. He stood in a crater the size of an apartment with dozens enemies’ bodies lying about.

Dazai ran to him.

There was laughing filling the air that was being mixed with the sounds of Chuuya’s black holes appearing and destroying the ground surrounding them. He too was on the path towards Dazai, pinpointing his new target to be ruined.

From the rapidly closing distance, Dazai could see the extent of the damage Corruption had done to his body. The tears and stains on his clothes that were soaked with blood and grit and stuck to his skin. The fingertips that created balls of compressed gravity that bled red and dripped a trail onto the ground.

Dazai was running out of time.

But the ground that shook around them hindered his ability to run straight. It was as if Chuuya was preventing him from getting close, as if he was already taken over by Arahabaki. The thought struck fear down Dazai’s spine as he fell to the ground from a loss of balance, shouting his name.

And he got up again.

Sprinting down the broken tarmac that once was a road, he avoided the gravitons being thrown his way until he stood a few metres from Chuuya. Saw the blood that stained his auburn hair and trickled down his temple, and without hesitation he closed the gap between them, pressing his hands against his face and activated his ability. Dazai kept his eyes firmly on Chuuyas, watching as his pupils dilated and the curse on his skin vanished, never once removing his hands from his cheeks. There was blood spilling from his mouth and Dazai's hands were soaked from where they were cupped against his face.

But Chuuya's eyes never opened.

Dazai brought his body into his lap, closer to feel his warmth, to feel his faint heartbeat against his chest. He barely made it, he thought, knowing that Chuuya was on his last strings of sanity before he could’ve died.

The thought horrified Dazai.

—

The bouquet had fallen to the ground in the midst of his reminiscence, and once again, Dazai’s hands made it's way to Chuuya’s face. Like the magnetic attraction between north and south poles, Dazai involuntarily cupped Chuuya's sunken cheeks that were cleaned of their traces of blood and grit. His fingers reaching under his jaw to feel the pulse of his heart beat in time with his, offering more comfort than the monitor could that, yes, he was alive.

But he needed to see those blue eyes looking at him. He was tired of looking at closed eye lids, at slightly parted lips and tousled hair and all the tubes and bandages and monitors that gave him signs that, no, he wasn’t safe. He wasn’t out of the woods just yet, and that brought Dazai more anguish than relish of listening to the continuous mechanical beep of his heartrate. Because yes, he was alive, but he wasn’t awake and that was more terrifying than the thought of coming too late.

His lips drop down to Chuuya’s temple, feeling the warmth on his lips melt the ice on his skin. Pulling back he rests his head on top of his as he murmurs, “I’ve told you before, haven’t I, Chuuya? How much I hate pain.”

The corners of Dazai’s lips turn up into a weak smile. Shifting his finger to press down on lightly-coloured and parted lips, savouring the breath that escapes Chuuya’s lips as it catches on Dazai’s fingertips. And with closed eyes and a weak smile he finishes, “so wake up and pull me out of it.”

[im-bi-this-is-my-life]

Pre order shirts are $17 $20 in a couple of weeks so order now

Fight with Bree

My name is Bree Baslington. I have been struggling with Lyme Disease for the past nine years of my life, all the while striving towards a better future for myself and others like me. I was born and raised in Spokane Valley, WA, only moving away to progress my treatments. Until I started to get sick, I was a very active member of the community; participating in all kinds of sports, volunteering, and working with children at the city’s day camp.

Moving away from Spokane was a difficult decision for me considering how little support I would have in the Seattle area, but it was one that I do not regret. I chose to move to Woodinville, WA in May of 2016 after avoiding the move for several months prior. There I became a full-time patient at Sophia Health Institute, seeing multiple doctors at a time, receiving daily IVs, and numerous injections. Without the time I spent there, I would not be here today.

During one of my trips to Spokane during the holiday season, my father and I were in a car accident that destroyed most of my possessions including the majority of my medical supplies and tools, as well as broke my back. I suffered an L1 burst fracture that left me in severe chronic pain. I spent three months in a back brace, requiring a special hospital bed and equipment to remain semi-functional without help. Replacing all of my medical equipment as well as purchasing more drained the remainder of my medical funds and left me struggling to make ends meet.

As time progressed in Woodinville, the treatments began to get more and more of a financial burden. With the cost of living rapidly increasing in the area, and the medical bills piling up, I chose to move back to the Spokane area in order to regroup and start to save in order to go back. The cost of care at Sophia Health Institute is purely dependent on how well I am doing at any given time, but typically it cost anywhere from $7,000- $10,000, or more a month.

My goal is to one day go to medical school and become a doctor that helps others the way so many of my doctors have helped me. Being twenty-five, this seems like a hefty goal, but I am used to defying the odds and pushing myself past the limits that others have placed on me. More than anything, what I want to do is inspire others like me that they can be more than their diagnosis.

For me, being healthy is not as simple as staying focused on treatments for a fixed amount of time, my condition is chronic meaning that I will be always need some form of treatment to manage my condition. That being said, my hope is to start to work more and more as I progress in my journey to a healthier life, but that is easier said than done. As of right now, I am able to work a few hours a week- something I never thought I’d be able to do at this point in my treatment. Soon, I hope to go back to college and begin working on my bachelor’s degree and eventual doctorate.

Now that I have recovered as much as I can from the car accident, I am in a place to continue to push forward towards my goal of managing my Lyme to a place that allows me to work more consistently and go back to college. In order to do this, I need to make another big step in my health journey; receiving treatment in Europe.

When I was sixteen, I had my wisdom teeth removed in an attempt to stop my headache. Long story short, because of my compromised immune system I ended up with an infection in my jaw (cavitation) that prevents my head from draining properly thus pushing the majority of my infection in my brain. German medicine has the technology to circumnavigate the nerves near where my wisdom teeth used to be, so they are the only ones who can fully clean out the infection. On top of this, I also need cryotherapy on my tonsils. My tonsils were removed when I was a sophomore in high school after suffering severe tonsillitis, but over time with my weakened immune system, one has begun to grow back- full of infections. This new tonsil has a very high likelihood of becoming cancerous if I do not take action soon. The nature of these procedures may seem fairly harmless, but because of the severity of my condition and my current heart problems will require me to seek addition support. My hope is to not only have doctor support in Europe, but also a full-time caregiver to help get me from appointment to appointment. On top of scrambling to pay for my basic every day needs, I am trying my best to save enough to travel for these surgeries.

[thefreckledone]

such a funny way to fall

Well @bleakblood13, here is your requested Ibiki/Sakura! I hope you enjoy. Thank you again for all of your sweet reblogs and tags. They never fail to make me smile!

Warnings: There is mention of torture because well...that’s Ibiki’s job.

In the aftermath of the war and all of their losses, Tsunade named Sakura the Chief of Konoha’s hospital so that she can focus on newly and tentatively established foreign relations. Sakura is proud of the title, knowing the honor it is to be Tsunade’s successor in the medical profession. So, Sakura throws herself into her new task, setting about organizing and updating the hospital’s current system of patient information. More than that, her unique viewpoint as a first generation shinobi offers her clarity in a number of aspects that most clan-born shinobi would never consider.

Mainly mental health care.

The current structure of mental health care for shinobi consists of visiting the Intelligence Division and letting a Yamanaka poke around in your mind in the aftermath of a particularly brutal mission.

That, Sakura knows, is not enough. She’s seen the symptoms in many of the older career shinobi and now they are manifesting within her generation, in all of those who shouldered the burden of war. Most ignore them, passing them off as shinobi quirks, but Sakura knows that there have been suicides in the past linked to these symptoms. She thinks of Kakashi, of his father, and wonders if all of that anguish and tragedy could have been prevented.

The civilians call it PTSD and Sakura will be damned before she lets anyone else slip through the cracks.

So, Sakura strides into the Intelligence Division on a mission. They are, after all, consistently the worst about their health, both physical and mental. She is going to make them come in for check-ups, even if she has to drag them all the way there.

A couple of shinobi stand to stop her but, taking a look at her face and her set expression, they leave her be.

Sakura makes her way downstairs, unfaltering even as the screams of the tortured get louder and louder. Sakura wonders, briefly, if those that work here are put-out by Tsunade-shishou’s political overtures towards peace. Somehow, she doubts it.

There are always rebellious souls to bleed of their secrets.

She goes deeper underground, unfazed by the chill that begins to emanate from the walls. Finally, when she reaches the lowest level, she strides out of the stairwell and heads toward the only other room on this floor. From the other side of it, Sakura can hear wet gurgling noises and she throws the door open, taking a cursory scan of the room before her gaze lands on the one person she’s been seeking out.

“Ibiki!” she barks, channeling all of her frustration. This is the voice that makes all of Team Seven stand to attention and watch her very, very carefully. “Outside now!”

He opens his mouth to respond, but snaps it shut at the quelling glare she directs his way.

Sakura turns and heads out the door, pleased that Ibiki does follow her. He is dressed as he usually is in his trench coat, though it shimmers with fresh blood. His gloved hands are covered in viscera that Sakura recognizes as bits of intestine. Ibiki fairly looms above her, glowering down at her over his crossed arms. With the gore he is coated in as well as his general physique, Sakura should, by all means, be intimidated.

Sakura, however, has punched a goddess in the face. Ibiki does not bother her in the slightest.

“What is the meaning of this?” Sakura hisses, shoving an envelope in his face. “Return to sender? I know you opened it and read the contents, asshole. All of T&I has been mandated to report to the hospital immediately. So why the hell haven’t you come? I gave you a week. Imagine my surprise when, as I asked Ino why none of your crew hasn’t come by, she knew nothing of the mandate?” Sakura glares up at him, wishing she could punch him in his smug face. Maybe she’ll challenge him to a spar after he receives his check up. Or maybe she could challenge him beforehand to force him to go to the hospital. “Of all the immature, childish techniques, this one just might be the lamest. Did you really think I would leave it alone because you chose to ignore the summons?” She laughs. “Think again buddy.”

“Would you shut up?” Ibiki asks, jaw set at a dangerous angle. “Damn, you’ve got a shrill voice, woman. If you haven’t noticed, we’re a bit busy here. There are a quite a few individuals and organizations displeased by the idea of international peace. Cuts in on the profits they earn in illegal trade. These types of threats are much more important than ones you seem to imagine we have.”

Sakura stares up at him steadily, crossing her arms. “Ibiki, you work in T&I; you know the damage that can be done to the mind. Hell, you’re often the one causing it to those you interrogate. This isn’t imagined and it will take root and take hold of your people unless you do something to prevent it.”

“Listen, we’ve got bigger, more pressing issues to deal with right now,” Ibiki says, some of the tension leaving his body. It leaves him looking drained, tired.

“When was the last time you slept?” Sakura asks.

Ibiki squints down at her. “What day is it?”

“You need to rest,” Sakura says. “You’ve apparently been at this for ages. Take some time to recuperate and try again.”

“No,” Ibiki says mulishly. “We’re close.”

Sakura peeks around him at the door. “Once you crack the guy in there, you’ll rest?”

“Sure, princess, whatever you like,” he says. He blinks, emphasizing the rings beneath them, and Sakura realizes that the nickname was not meant to slip out.

“If I crack him,” Sakura begins, “you’ll get a full night’s rest and bring your entire crew into the hospital for a check-up.”

“You?” Ibiki asks, looking her over. His lips twitch like he wants to laugh, but he manages to restrain himself. “Listen, I know you’re a war hero and all, but this is different—”

“Look, if I fail, I’ll stop harassing you about going to the hospital,” Sakura wagers, sweetening the pot. Tsunade-shishou has taught her all sorts of tips and tricks with gambling and Sakura, thankfully, did not inherit her mentor’s luck. “Do we have a deal?”

“What the hell, sure,” Ibiki says.

He steps back, giving a bit of flourish to the way he opens the door. Sakura’s lips quirk at that, charmed by the show of humor. She gets the feeling that the sleep deprivation makes him sloppy, showing off bits and bobs of his actual character.

Sakura steps inside, smile saccharine sweet as she pulls on her gloves. “Hello there,” she says to what is left of the man bound to the chair. “I will be your doctor this evening.”

In all, it takes her just shy of twelve minutes to get the man, someone in the middle tier of this whole black market operation, to sing her all the secrets he held. Her task done, Sakura moves to the industrial sink in the corner of the room and sets about cleaning herself up. As she moves, she is tailed by a hulking shadow.

“How did you do that?” Ibiki asks gruffly as she turns the faucet on. “We’ve tried everything in the book, even got a bit creative, but that…” He trails off, looking dazed.

“There’s a reason that enemy shinobi always target medic-nin first,” Sakura replies. “And it’s only partially because they can revive their teammates. Any medic-nin worth their salt can do something similar. After all, we know the human body intimately; we know what it takes to break a person. Really, did you learn nothing about how dangerous medic-nin are from Kabuto?”

“I…I mean…damn princess,” Ibiki says, deep voice going even deeper in appreciation. Sakura’s toes tingle with the force of it, but she just sets about scrubbing her hands harder. “That was—that was something else.”

Sakura smirks, drying her hands. “Well, a deal is a deal,” she says, grinning up at Ibiki with triumph. “I will see you and the rest of T&I in my office three days from now at noon. Am I understood?” He nods, mouth dry. “Good!” Sakura presses up onto her tiptoes and pats Ibiki’s cheek. Even then, she can just barely reach. “I’ll see you then!”

Sakura sails out of the room, buoyant with her success.

Ibiki, on the other hand, stays where he is, removing a glove to press his fingertips against his cheek where Sakura’s hand just was.

It’s uncommonly warm.

He hears the slightest of snickers and turns to his assistants, glaring death their way. “Finish up here!” he barks, striding toward the door. “And clean up this mess.”

Ibiki exits the room, sorting his priorities as he fairly bounds up the stairs. First things first, he needs to sleep, probably crash for a day. And then?

Well, he’s going to see Sakura, long before their scheduled appointment.

Ibiki cackles, grin wild and mad as he begins to plan.

[rhodesmystery]

the first foot forward

London doesn’t look familiar, but in saying that, Charlie had never spent much time there anyway. Bill seems in his element, as they wind through crowds, out of the alley they’d arrived in. Passed off the Portkey to a ministry official, all nods and shaking hands, before then. They say something, perhaps about Natasha, that’s just white noise for Charlie. Focuses on his feet, making sure he doesn’t trip, as they walk on.

I’d always meant to write something, of when Natasha got her injuries. Guess madly writing something at 2am is the way I’m gonna do this. Happens sometime mid ‘93. Charlie POV. I’ll do a part two for this as well. 

When Charlie gets a shout of his name over the roar of the resident dragons, he thought he was hearing things. Truly, as it was almost unheard of to go anywhere near the nursery, and not find him. So, he assumes that him being called was due to a newer member of their team unaware of his usual dwellings, and promptly ignored it.

Not until his name was repeated another four times, does Charlie finally turn. Handing off the young Welsh Green off to a nearby witch, he gets up. Can hear the voices, imagines the hands pointing. Feet carry him to the nearby fence, still firmly locked and charmed. Well, no one had forced their way in at least.

Wand ready to undo a few precautionary charms, he doesn’t have to. Not when the gate unlocks from the other side, opening a door to the rest of the sanctuary. Charlie goes to grumble, something about not watching for any potential escapee younglings, especially considering that three hatchlings went walkabout the other week, when he stops. Voice catching in his throat, at the sight of Bill.

Bill, tall and normally quite bright, with red rimmed eyes and lank hair, sallow skin. Like something had sucked all the happiness out of him. Thanking the wizard, Harrington, beside him, Bill all but pulls Charlie out of the nursery. “We need to talk,” he says, firmly, without giving Charlie any room to argue. 

“We’ll go to mine.”

The walk to Charlie’s place was fearfully quiet, only filling his head with countless worries. Was it mum? Dad? he thinks, unsure what he would do. What he should think. Ginny? No, not Ginny, not again. When Ron had regaled the family with what had conspired in his second year of schooling, Charlie had been over in a flash to the Burrow, equal parts preventing his parents from not sending his siblings to school once more, but also for Ginny. All out of sorts, smile never quite reaching her eyes again. Charlie’s hands shake, as he turns the knob to his place.

What constituted as his place of residence was one of the smaller housings, not too far from the others. Single roomed, as he had done his time in the dormitories. Filled with papers and photos, all moving around. Perhaps it helped that he had moved up in the relative ranks in the sanctuary, to warrant his own place. He goes to get a mug, trying to think of something to say to Bill, without letting his own fears show. At this point, Charlie realises that he probably should invest in a clock much like the one home. That he shouldn’t have run so far away.

“Bill—”

“It’s not—it’s not mum. Or dad. Or Percy or Fred.” Bill’s voice is tight when he responds, but runs through their siblings, their parents. Several aunts and uncles and a cousin or two Charlie couldn’t say he’d heard of. He’d be lying if he didn’t say that relief washed over him.

“Good, good, okay.” Leaning against the counter now, fingers pressing into the metal of the sink. Staring at the drain, mug forgotten. That was, that was okay. Wasn’t it? Nothing had happened (yet). Barely into his third year, Ron was. And Charlie had read all the papers and heard all the rumours. Even when they visited Bill over the summer, the air was tense, worries exchanged over moving photos. 

At that thought, Charlie looks to his left, out the corner of his eye. A photo sat, never once getting dusty, fondly moved about, with Charlie never noticing until too late. He smiles, when he watches the couple spin around, slowly, deliberately, never once taking their eyes off each other. Charlie watches as even, years on, the dress Natasha wore glittered, hair perfect, lips painted, eyes only on him. And he knew exactly how he looked at her.

Oh.

Pushing himself up, faster than he should’ve, Charlie turns on Bill. Oh, oh no, oh no ohnoohno.

But Bill, despite looking like he hadn’t slept in several days, was faster. Thoughts not muddled with the past and the present. “St Mungo’s.”

Catches Charlie off guard, as he lets out a rough “what?”

“That’s where she is.” Bill clears his throat, runs a hand over his face. “She’s… she’s alive. Stable. Something got to her, and they found her in time.”

“Why am I hearing this all now?” Control, he tries to tell himself, control. Don’t get too emotional, don’t yell. Forming fists by his side, Charlie can feel his nails dig in a little too hard. “Why didn’t anyone send me an owl?”

“She’s only been there for a few days or so—” And Charlie knows that Bill was only trying to calm him down, he knows. But his vision was closing, dangerously so, where he could only see thinly ahead. “Charlie.” He hears Bill say his name, from a little too far away. “She’s fine. Natasha’s strong. She’ll pull through.”

Swallowing thickly, Charlie doesn’t rub his eyes, unclench his fists. Just continues to stare at the space on the wall. Another photo. Natasha, again. Smiling at him, brightly, from under a sun hat. This time last year, in Greece, where they had made a promise to each other. “What was it?”

“Huh?”

“That attacked her. What was it?”

Bill shakes his head, Charlie can see him do it out the corner of his eye. “No one knows for the moment. Nat’s not awake yet, and when she was found…” Trailing off, Bill shuffles. Arms crossed over his chest, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “I came here to take you with me. I didn’t think you should hear this in a letter.”

Okay. Okay, okay. Charlie can hear himself speaking, out loud. To thin air. Focuses on relaxing his hands, on keeping his head on straight. “When do we leave?” One foot forward in front of the other, towards his room. Everything was mechanical, precise. Packing a bag shouldn’t have been like this, where he just blindly threw what he could think of in there. Somewhere, he was sure, Natasha was making fun of him.

“Shouldn’t you tell someone that you’re leaving?”

Shouldering his bag, Charlie grabs his toothbrush from the bathroom. Don’t look in the mirror, don’t, don’t want to see my face. “I’m due for time off.” The only answer Charlie can think of, as he avoids looking at the mirror, the window. Shuts the cupboards with a little too much force. What did he need? He didn’t know. 

Bill says something. Maybe it was just him agreeing, but he still hadn’t moved from his spot in the middle of Charlie’s living area, out of place. Unsure of where to look, as Charlie could see that every time Bill thought he had settled on a spot, he grimaced, moved on. Too many reminders, around the place. Her scarf hanging on the coat rack, her favourite kind of tea by the pot. Charlie was almost thankful Bill hadn’t followed him into his room, as he wouldn’t have liked seeing the pile of laundry in the corner, Natasha’s idea of where to store clean clothes for later, when she had another visit, completely unannounced. 

When they walk out, they didn’t talk. Charlie couldn’t find the words, even if he wanted to. Until, he realises, they would take some time to get there. “How did you get here?” does he finally ask, as Bill had begun to lead the way. 

“Portkey. Can’t Apparate that far.” Short, clipped answer, but enough. Charlie doesn’t press it any further, doesn’t feel a need to know the ins and outs. Just trusts when Bill offers his hand, reaching for the shoe at the edge of the sanctuary.

He doesn’t look back. Knows that he’d be in a bit of trouble, for leaving the way he did. No, he wasn’t wrong, about due for time off. Only had two weeks off last year, spent with Natasha far away. Before that, next to nothing. Sure, Egypt was this year, but he’d been practically thrown out by his superiors for working ‘too much, too hard’. Charlie closes his eyes, as the world swirls around him, pulling him this way and that. Man, he hated travelling by Portkey.

London doesn’t look familiar, but in saying that, Charlie had never spent much time there anyway. Bill seems in his element, as they wind through crowds, out of the alley they’d arrived in. Passed off the Portkey to a ministry official, all nods and shaking hands, before then. They say something, perhaps about Natasha, that’s just white noise for Charlie. Focuses on his feet, making sure he doesn’t trip, as they walk on. Only once had he been to St Mungo’s, to visit another fellow dragonologist when discussing what a potential injury might have been. Charlie had been in his second year at the sanctuary, already stepping up. 

When he runs up the back of Bill, does he realise they’d arrived at the entry. Red bricked and advertising under renovations. Charlie squints up at the signs, not taking in how Bill says why they had arrived. Everything was just fading out, even as they step through the window. Bill must’ve noticed, surely, with how he’s gripping Charlie’s upper arm now. 

Once safely through, does Bill shake Charlie a little. “Hey, you in there?”

Charlie blinks once, twice. “Yeah, what?”

He can’t break down Bill’s expression, not really. Too many layers, far too much moving, searching. “Listen to me: she’ll be fine.”

“I know, you said that already.” Charlie couldn’t help the way he sounded childish, as if he should stick his lower lip out too. “It’s why you brought me here, wasn’t it?”

Bill rolls his eyes, purses his lips. “I brought you here as her partner — boyfriend, husband, whatever — because I thought it was the right thing to do.”

It’s like a lot of the air suddenly leaves the room, only enough allowing for the damn near squeak of “what?” leaving Charlie once again. He should’ve been counting just how many times he could ask that one worded question this day alone. 

“They’re restricting visitors, just because of… you’ll see, when you see her—”

Charlie drops his voice to a whisper, but still unable to stop the pitch when he insists “we’re not married, Bill!” Just the thought seemed to knock something out of Charlie. He didn’t know what it was. Would file that away to fret about later.

From the look Bill was giving him, Charlie could almost guess his next few words. “She told me about Greece.”

Letting out a groan, Charlie hangs his head. His cheeks burned, just a little. “Nat needs to stop telling you everything.” And that was the truth. Granted, he knew she was more than capable of keeping secrets, but if Charlie had a sickle for every time Bill and Natasha whispered, he’d be able to afford… well, maybe a ring.

He doesn’t think about that.

Finally, a witch appear at their elbows, looking up at them both with a bright smile. Charlie was always just a fraction concerned about how the healers here maintained such a positive attitude in the face of everything. 

Bill clears his throat, saving the way Charlie just seemed to stare at the smiling witch, as they’re directed towards the reception desk. “We’re here to see Natasha Rhodes. Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley,” he says, with a motion towards Charlie, as if to distinguish between themselves. “I was here earlier, but left to get Natasha’s… husband.”

Charlie was sure he turned pink, from the look Bill gave him to cut that out, but the receptionist politely didn’t seem to notice. “You’re aware that visitors have been restricted for the moment?” 

“Yeah, but uh, Joutley suggested I get my brother down here.” Something else was exchanged, about Natasha’s immediate family being present. Minding gifts, manners, no loud noises. 

The receptionist hums, flicking through files, after giving her little speech. Finding something she was after. With another blinding smile, does she hold out her hand towards the stairs. “First floor, Dai Llewellyn ward.”

Charlie knew that ward. “Serious bite?” he asks, once they were heading up the stairs. That could mean several things.

Perhaps Bill could see him spiralling, and answers before he lost his footing. “Honestly, they don’t know, and stuck her in the most appropriate ward, I guess. You’ll see.”

“You keep saying that.” 

With a shrug, Bill takes Charlie through to the ward, pushing on the door. It hadn’t changed from the time Charlie had been here, and distinctly remembered he was by the bed, towards the far left. But now, judging by the small crowd gathering around the bed situated in the middle of the right row, Charlie knew this time was different. 

There were plenty of faces Charlie didn’t recognise, some barely giving him a glance before turning back to where Natasha lay. Sure, Natasha had pointed some out, in their shared time. Charlie recognised Aleksander Selwyn, giving him a firm handshake upon the look he received back. Short exchange of pleasantries, before he noticed Natasha’s mother.

Lyra. 

Charlie had met Natasha’s mother several times, but each time he was still just a fraction dumbstruck by how startling alike they looked. Of course he knew all the differences, the shape of their noses, the curves of their jaws, the colour of their eyes. Lyra was sharper than Natasha, too, in the way she always seemed to hold a critical eye. Natasha had lamented once, long ago, that her mother was like that because of America, of trying to fit in. Always finding something to complain about, be it her hair or her piercings or her grades or the people she liked. (And Charlie remembers, with some sort of peace, that he had kissed Natasha, that night, cutting off her little tirade)

Beside Lyra was no doubt Natasha’s father, Richard, or something like that. The Americans called him ‘Dick’. Even fewer times had Charlie had been introduced to the man, but in the photos he had been shown, he was tall, proud. Natasha might’ve looked like her mother at certain angles, but Charlie knew that she was her father’s daughter, through and through. Perhaps, what made the knot in his stomach grow, was seeing how the normally upright man was beside Natasha’s bed, head in hands, shaking as he sobbed silently. 

“Oh, Charles, I didn't see you there, dear.”

Lyra spots him, and Charlie works his way around Natasha's family to give an awkward hug. “Sorry, I just arrived.” Even his words weren’t coming out quite right. He was looking anywhere other than the bed.

“Yes, William said he was going to get you. Thank you for coming… Natasha, she—she’s always been fond of you.” Charlie doesn’t think, that maybe her mother didn’t know the real ins and outs of their longterm relationship. If he could call it that. 

“I—I. Yeah.” No, he didn’t know what to say. Not with his arms crossed over his chest, finally allowing his gaze to start to travel up the bed. Lyra smiles at him, in the annoyingly knowing way that Natasha did, when she worked something out. Maybe she did know, after all.

But Charlie finds he couldn’t focus on the similarities between mother and daughter, when he finds himself staring at Natasha’s face. Bruised, swollen. Left side of her face, along the curve of her jaw, reaching towards her ear, was a set of vicious marks, that disappeared under her gown when he let his gaze drop. If Charlie didn’t know any better, he would’ve simply said burns. But a little voice in the back of his head reminded him this was a ward for dangerous bites, and that made him run just a fraction colder.

“Do they… know anything? When did they find her?”

Charlie was sure he was just asking the same questions that Lyra had been answering for days, but she answers with a strong voice. “At this point, they're not sure. They believe it was a creature, but Natasha was found a little far from the grounds in the—in the snow.” A slight hiccup, that Charlie politely ignores. “She was at Durmstrang to break curses, so she might’ve released something.”

They both knew that Natasha wasn’t like that, not anymore. Lyra’s tone told him so too. “Why isn’t she at a hospital in Northern Europe?” Whilst the actual position of Durmstang wasn’t told to him, Charlie did have a relatively rough idea. It only occurred to him then, that they had transported her back to Britain. 

Lyra sighs a little, the expected tiredness creeping in to her voice. “She was up there for a week, before they made the decision to move her. Apparently the facilities here are better.” 

Whilst he knew he couldn’t speculate, but his eyes climb up to the dingy roof, the series of bright baubles being the only light. Better facilities? What a joke. 

For one whole moment, they stand there, watching as Natasha’s chest rose and fell with each deep breath. Charlie assumed they had induced sleep, as he couldn’t remember a time she slept that soundly. Maybe he took a step forward, or sighed in some way, but Lyra pats his hand, reaches for her husband. “We’ll give you two a moment.”

Richard crumbles in his wife’s arms, and the few members of their family follow, until the room was practically empty. Only then does Charlie realise Bill hadn’t left, not yet. He didn’t know what to do next, suddenly aware of his hands shaking, of his vision blurring. Bill takes a seat next to Natasha’s bed, kicks his leg up to rest ankle on knee. “Sit, before you fall over.”

Nodding, Charlie takes what was Richard’s now empty seat. Natasha’s right, where there was no apparent damage. Charlie’s hand wavers, just a little, just a lot, as he reaches for Natasha’s hand. Wasn’t sure if it was allowed, and quite frankly didn’t care at that point, as he holds her hand in both of his. 

He had never noticed how small her hands were, until that moment. 

Bill leans back in his chair, eyes closing. Giving Charlie some privacy? He takes a moment to study his brother, the dark rings, the droopy shoulders. Whilst Bill held it together for administrative stuff, Charlie knew he was tired. Wound up. Arms still folded over his chest, head leaning back. Not a comfortable position to sleep in, not at all, but within a few minutes Charlie can hear the soft snores.

Taking that as the final word from Bill, Charlie looks back at Natasha. Sees the bruises, the scrapes. Thinks of how many others times she’d looked like this, grin on her face, bloody lip and claiming victory. This time was different. She was tiny, broken. And Charlie didn’t want to think like that, not really, not at all. 

He wants to say ‘I should’ve been there’, but that was stupid. He couldn’t have been. He wouldn’t have been. Charlie was in Romania, and Natasha was somewhere far north, and that’s how they had been for a while now. He remembers Bill’s comment about Apparition, not being able to go that far. And he remembers how he failed his test, ending up further than he should’ve been. 

Charlie laughs at that, to himself, despite it all. Squeezes Natasha’s fingers, as he remembers how merciless she had been in her teasing. What he wouldn’t give to go back, do it all over again. Do it right. Where they’d actually talk, stop making promises, stop saying sorry. Maybe not cutting out the making out in the Quidditch locker rooms, but definitely all the other bits. The awkwardness and the tears and the cold shoulders. 

With his eyes only on Natasha’s face, searching for some sign of her, underneath all the pain, does Charlie bring her hand closer to his lips. Presses a firm kiss, to each of her knuckles. Holds her there, eyes closed, breathing short. As Charlie lets go, finally, thick tears escaping the corners of his eyes, he hears the hitch in her breath, the quiet noises of discomfort. What he wouldn’t give.

[japvnesedenim-blog]

A Simple Key For strawberry face mask Unveiled

Rub Carefully around puffy places right up until the shells are now not chilly. Do this each morning, prior to deciding to’ve completed the rest to your skin, to acquire down underneath-eye bloat which could have amassed right away. Honey's intense antibacterial motion can cure present acne and prevent any more unwelcome pimples. Lemon acid don't just helps exfoliate your skin, but can limit the appearance of dim places, way too. Gently massage the mixture on to your face and depart on for around fifteen-twenty minutes, then rinse off. Spread it evenly on your own face and neck and loosen up for twenty minutes. Gently rub the mixture although washing it off with water. This aids in removing the lifeless pores and skin and brightens the complexion. If there’s any mask still left about after you clean your face with it, include a certain amount of drinking water to it and use it as a scrub for your backs within your arms and any other entire body component that would do with some smoothing. All the data & content material offered on the website is intended to become for informational purposes only, and never a substitute for Specialist or professional medical guidance. You need to always talk to your health practitioner prior to deciding to comply with something that you Continue reading this Internet site. Although some do-it-yourself face masks and scrubs do the job ideal on oily, dry or delicate skin, I've pulled collectively a list of nine awesome masks and eight scrubs that Focus on all pores and skin kinds. These recipes are great for get-togethers and for groups because they Focus on all sorts of skin. Mash or puree the avocado until it’s sleek and creamy, after which blend in the rest of the substances. https://www.facebook.com/steptoremedies/ towards your face, keeping away from your eyes, and go away it on for 10-15 minutes. Wipe your skin clean up by using a moist, heat cloth, or rinse your face with warm water inside the shower. Keep reading to find a remedy to your skincare requires, and pin along with SELF on Pinterest for other outstanding Suggestions. Use this all over your face and go away it to act for twenty minutes, after that rinse off your face with warm drinking water, pat dry and apply moisturizer. Use this mask number of time each week and the outcome will amaze you. “ https://www.pinterest.com/healthhomeremedies/steptoremedies/ have revealed that honey is a powerful broad-spectrum antibacterial agent. It’s received a lot oomph that it may even end the ‘superbug’ MRSA from increasing. Handmade honey face masks are straightforward to make. Honey is probably nature's most nutritious food items, made up of nutrients and enzymes not even discovered by scientists these days. Honey is usually revered as being a fountain of youth and sweetness - let us find out how to use it For making use of honey on acne & pimples: Utilize Uncooked honey over the acne - inclined places. Depart it for fifteen – 20 minutes and rinse it off with tap water. Reverses age: Continue to keep a jar all around and dab the honey on acne, burns or insignificant cuts. And if you’re emotion sick, take a spoonful or two.

The Single Best Strategy To Use For honey face mask

Combine one tablespoon of fast coffee powder and sufficient freshly squeezed lemon juice for making a thick paste. When you've got below-eye circles, combine in a handful of drops of olive oil and use it on the realm to note the revitalizing effect. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lCVdhwzejis may additionally have an interest in: How to apply a Face Mask Correctly Actions to adhere to: Puree the strawberries in a foodstuff processor, or mash with fork right before use. Be sure to usually do not use flavoured yogurt – utilize the plain one! In case your yogurt is chilly, enable it to reach space temperature first. Making use of honey masks for acne remedy can be a very fashionable property treatment and If you're serious about treating your acne in a very all-natural, harmless way or if Your whole body isn't going to reply very well to absorbing medicines made of severe chemical compounds, then honey masks are the ideal option for you. This is a wonderful mask for men, as it may possibly soothe the two razor burn, and over-weathered winter skin. The yogurt functions as a moisturizer, while the cucumber lessens redness and gives humidity to dry, delicate skin. In case you have extremely delicate skin, you might want to attempt replacing the cinnamon powder with turmeric. You have to just take special treatment of your skin throughout the summertime to guard it from the detrimental warmth and sun publicity. Just a few minutes outside can advert... This superfood contains lactic acid a powerful nutrient that smoothens out rough skin, moisturizes skin and nourishes dry withered pores and skin. The zinc located in yogurt is helpful in that it soothes inflammations a result of acne, thus producing them significantly less visible. Software: Implement just one layer of the combination on your own complete face and down onto your throat. Look ahead to a couple of minutes until eventually it dries. Then, utilize a 2nd layer and retain implementing until eventually you may have applied the whole batch. Include the water to your oatmeal and stir for a few minutes until finally it’s plumped up nicely. Incorporate the honey and yogurt, and put via a blender to easy and Merge it rather well. Slather this throughout your face, depart on for ten minutes or so, and afterwards clean with warm water. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jPlOEudlCv0 . Guantee that the combination experienced no lumps, thoroughly clean the skin and use the mask, clean off immediately after 15 minutes. skin mask eliminating any puffiness on your own face caused by the existence of toxins. Mix all the above substances in a little mixing bowl. Utilizing clean finger strategies, implement a thick coat of your mixture onto your face. increase yeast on the citrus, blend and utilize in your face, keep the mask for 25 minutes and after that rinse with amazing h2o.

How diy face mask can Save You Time, Stress, and Money.

•  https://twitter.com/steptoremedies/status/1087109036632391680 , smoothen, and brighten your skin by applying a mix of orange juice and coconut oil for about ten minutes after which you can rinse it off with lukewarm h2o.   Papaya is full of antioxidants, and its enzymes aid to slough absent old, dry skin cells to get a glowing, nutritious complexion. Jasmin Fiore of The Deva Life swears by papaya masks as Element of her therapeutic regimen, and sings the praises of the rejuvenating surprise-fruit. Applying heat h2o, rinse off, tackling the sides of your respective face and beneath your chin Primarily. Splash your face with chilly h2o to shut pores. Pat dry that has a clean towel. Increase some drops of lemon juice, and implement over the face until finally it really is dry. You could convey to if It is dry When you've got problem smiling. https://en.search.wordpress.com/?src=organic&q=beauty+tips and tone the skin, increase blood circulation in cells, normalize metabolic processes; Egg White Face Masks—Egg whites are recognized for their capacity to tone massive pores and cut down extra sebum, making them great for those with naturally oily pores and skin. Make an egg white face mask. Egg whites can tighten pores, supplying you with A short lived face lift, as lemon has vitamin C that may clear away blackheads and also other blemishes. Conquer a person egg white with a fork right until It is really frothy. All info is furnished on an as-is foundation. The information, points or viewpoints showing within the post usually do not mirror the views of NDTV and NDTV isn't going to presume any duty or liability for the same. This content is accurate and true to the most beneficial with the writer’s awareness and isn't meant to substitute for official and individualized guidance from an experienced Skilled. If you are drained to kind out a single following the other beauty to locate the best choice for the skin, explore the magical effect on the skin with yeast face mask, which is very easy to arrange at your house with their own personal palms. for oily pores and skin: no other beauty item is able so helps make slim enlarged pores and do away with as soon as possible harmful shine in the face; Honey works effectively for tightening our pores and skin and is an efficient moisturizer. I go through all your articles and find them really beneficial. That you are these a great author and also you give us an in-depth information regarding almost everything you create. Sit for fifteen minutes while you Permit the mask do its function. You need to use this time to soak in a tub or get lunch Completely ready. If the time is up, gently scrub off the mask utilizing warm drinking water. When it’s all off, splash chilly drinking water on to your face to close your pores. Pat dry by using a towel. How it works: Spirulina has antibacterial Attributes, helping to keep the pores distinct and tight. As well as, it can be loaded with additional antioxidants than blueberries, which implies that it may be effective at lessening the results of sun hurt and cutting down the appearance of fine traces and wrinkles, claims Fusco.

via steptoremedies.com of honey face mask

Before you decide to place a mask on your own face, firstclean pores and skin tonic, and better yet - make effortless peeling, including scrub. The pores and skin just after this treatment are going to be good to soak up nutrients from cooked mask you. Awesome publish! i love an excellent diy, would you be capable of go into depth as to why this stuff do the issues they do Green tea and honey get the job done anti-inflammatory magic on pores and skin redness and inflammation. This calming combo is Mild enough for delicate pores and skin (do a patch check should you’re apprehensive). Both equally ingredients are potent antioxidants to combat totally free radicals and restore skin harm. Pretty uncommon scenarios wherever somebody has been idiosyncrasy of the product. Any yeast face mask has by far the most constructive evaluations. If you need to ensure that the yeast mask will never lead to hurt to the skin, utilize a little level of diluted yeast in heat drinking water while in the wrist and rinse after ten minutes if there is no reaction, you may securely continue to the recipes. We might use conversion monitoring pixels from advertising networks including Google AdWords, Bing Advertisements, and Facebook in an effort to establish when an ad has successfully resulted in the desired motion, like signing up for the HubPages Services or publishing an write-up on the HubPages Service. Why squander revenue on highly-priced creams when you can handle yourself into a relaxing homemade face mask with whole-egg mayonnaise from your possess refrigerator? Gently distribute the mayonnaise around your face and leave it on for approximately 20 minutes. General strawberries lighten your skin color and give you a vibrant blemish free of charge and balanced skin. As a result, strawberries are combined with other all-natural substances to carry extremely effective face masks which support in skin brightening and lightening. Talked about beneath at steptoremedies.com are some these kinds of face masks with strawberries. Wash the orange peel in h2o and after that place it in a very location in which it might soak up a great deal of sunshine. After the peels dry, crush them using a mortar and pestle right into a fine powder. You may use this powder for all of the for recipes shown underneath regarding how to use orange peel in face masks: Add the drinking water towards your oatmeal and stir for a few minutes right up until it’s plumped up properly. Incorporate the honey and yogurt, and set via a blender to smooth and Incorporate it rather well. Slather this throughout your face, depart on for ten minutes or so, after which wash with heat drinking water. Pat dry. Turmeric masks are generally accustomed to even out skin tone and minimize the looks of dim spots or scars. Honey provides a slight bleaching effect while lemon juice and yogurt gently exfoliate to eliminate lifeless skin and stimulate new mobile advancement. Now that you've got your orange peel powder, here are a few face mask recipes that will enable you to enjoy their Gains: When you create a yeast face mask particularly towards the prescription and take note of all the recommendation on its preparation, it is going to convert your skin right into a actual velvet and do away with a lot of the problems. You may use this to streamline signing up for, or signing in on your Hubpages account. No knowledge is shared with Facebook Except if you interact with this particular feature. (Privacy Coverage) Enable it sit for 15 minutes. Rinse your face with cold drinking water and pat dry with a thoroughly clean towel. The skin will experience surprisingly gentle and glimpse thoroughly clean and moisturised. Should your face is somewhat dry following the mask, specifically in acne parts, simply just use a fall of olive oil to be a purely natural moisturizer.

coffee face mask Things To Know Before You Buy

Skin exfoliation mask, the yogurt will help get rid of lifeless pores and skin, lighten and brighten skin, receives rid of darkish spots and Pretty much helps prevent ageing. The Houses of yogurt are many and when Employed in this combination, it’s sure to provide you with Added benefits a lot better than a readymade mask. First off, mix the elements effectively until you've got a uniform and smooth paste that will persist with the face without the need of running off. Warning: Lots of people are allergic to cinnamon and it may possibly from time to time generate irritation in people with an unusually sensitive pores and skin. For that reason, this mask really should be utilised immediately after tests somewhere other than to the face. The views expressed inside of this article are the private thoughts on the writer. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/722616702689548197 is not really to blame for the accuracy, completeness, suitability, or validity of any information on this short article. This is an additional very good treatment for acne. This variation can be completely produced from purely natural and edible ingredients. One more pleasant update: Whenever you include honey to this mixture, it does not dry rigid in any respect. I did not be expecting that but it surely's wonderful! Honey has antibacterial and soothing Homes, And that i used Manuka honey and that is noted for possessing the highest antibacterial Attributes. I'm sure it is possible to mix a couple of other factors in it also. Retain a jar around and dab the honey on acne, burns or insignificant cuts. And if you’re emotion Unwell, have a spoonful or two. https://www.wikihow.com/Category:Skin-Care nourishes your skin and aids in holding it supple and comfortable. This face mask aids in supplying pores and skin with one particular lighter pores and skin tone. Selfmade face masks are stuffed with character's restorative goodness, in the shape of your nutrients, minerals, acids, and oils spelled out inside the tables previously mentioned, with no in the chemicals that retail outlet-bought masks have to have for an prolonged shelf lifestyle. Unfold the orange peels in a tray and area them in a region that receives an abundance of sunshine. Depart them there until eventually They may be completely dried—this usually takes one particular to 2 times, but can take up to five in cold, cloudy weather. little herbs is one particular organic astringent and will help fade dark spots and acne scars. The alpha hydroxyl acids existing in strawberries will help curb oil production on your skin surface, trying to keep blackheads and pimples absent. Info: When the grains in the apple works for a sort of gentle scrub for cleaning your face, the glycolic acid in it facilitates exfoliation. Prior to deciding to put visit on your face, firstclean pores and skin tonic, and even better - make straightforward peeling, which include scrub. The skin right after this technique might be very good to soak up nutrients from cooked mask you. In that circumstance, quit employing This method and try on the list of other masks. You should consult a practicing aromatherapist in advance of working with any necessary oils.

[hellostarseed]

How to Create a Book of Shadows - Masterpost

🌟 Hey Guys! 🌟

Something I've seen a lot in different communities is people wondering how to make a Book of Shadows or what to put into it. So in response to this, I thought I'd do a flip through of my own BOS to perhaps give some ideas on what you could do for yours!Firstly, your BOS doesn't have to be anything super fancy. It certainly can be if you want it to be! But don't at all feel it needs to uphold a certain aesthetic standard. Your Book of Shadows is an expression of yourself, so you can literally make it however you want it to look. The main thing is that you are happy with it. 

🌟 How to Build a BOS from Scratch 🌟

Again, this isn't something that you HAVE to do. If you don't feel confident in building your own, there are SO many beautiful journals out there that work perfectly fine for a BOS. But for those who are feeling extra crafty, this is what I did to create mine.

Let me start by saying my first Book of Shadows was a huge flop. I wanted a leather bound journal and thought I could make my own, but it just ended up looking like a leather pillow.

I know, it's cringy. I felt really miserable and drained of energy after creating it, so I took a couple days to think and then went for attempt #2.

I decided to go in a COMPLETELY different direction and bought a big ass college dictionary from the thrift store

I ripped all the pages out and replaced them with my own. This took a lot of work because regular printer paper was too long for the book, so around 300+ pages had to be hand cut to fit. I didn't stitch my pages together because that turned out horribly for my leather pillow BOS, so I simply glued all the inside pages together and then glued the inner facing edge of the pages to the spine. You wouldn't think so, but this worked really well and is surprisingly sturdy. If it works, it works!

This was my absolute favorite part of building my BOS; painting it! I decided to take inspiration from the universe and painted the front, back, and inside cover with the Northern Lights and peacock feathers.  Once that was dry and finished, my BOS was ready to be filled with magic!

🌟 So What Do I Put In My BOS? 🌟

Anything you want! Literally it can be anything. I know that doesn't give a lot of direction though if you absolutely have no idea where to start, so never fear! Here are some ideas.

One thing you could do is have a spot to put your positive affirmations and things you are grateful for. Spend a week writing things down every day and putting them in your envelope. After one week, continue to write things down to contribute to it, but when you put one in, take one out and read it and really feel those feelings of gratitude and the words you put down. Once you have taken time to show gratitude or say your positive affirmation, put it back and repeat again tomorrow. This is such a great way to raise your energy and vibration as soon as you open your magickal book.

On the first page of my BOS, I added my favorite quote, "Not All That Wander Are Lost". I feel like this quote is literally me in a nutshell, because I just love exploring and enjoying discovering new things and not worrying about where I end up. Behind the letters, I created my very own sigil to protect my book from prying eyes. The sigil is an upside down heart with a tear drop, and wrapped with a thorny vine and a lock hanging from the vine. The vines run from the top of the page to the bottom to represent As Above, So Below. The purpose of this sigil isn't to curse the intruder, but to fill the intruder with such intense feelings of guilt that they can't continue reading further. Thus, the sigil acts as a guardian to prevent prying eyes rather than hurt them. If anyone would like to use this sigil for their own book, feel free to use.

🌟 Organizing Your BOS 🌟

Next, don't forget your Table of Contents! Notice that my Table of Contents is blank. Also notice all the whiteout I used on the page. I learned this after I started on my Table of Contents unfortunately, but don't write your Table of Contents until after your book is complete. Reason being, you're more than likely going to change pages and add pages, some sections will become longer than expected, and many other things will arise that you won't expect. Waiting until your book is complete will save you so much trouble.

Which leads to my next point. What do you do if you make a mistake in your BOS? Seriously, this is no big deal at all. Whiteout will be your best friend. You can use whiteout, paint over it, or even just paste a new page over it. It's easily fixable and adds character to your book, so don't worry about messing it up. It's easily fixable.

🌟 Intro/Book Blessing/Foreword 🌟

I blurred this section out where it's something that's very personal. But here I basically just said what the book is about, and since I intend to leave this book to my family members once I pass away, there's just a personal message in there for them as well. Feel free to make this section whatever you want though  you can include it or exclude it. Some people include an introduction to their book, for some people it is the Wiccan Rede, for others it is a book blessing, it can be whatever you wish to make it be.  Again, remember your BOS is YOUR book. Don't feel obligated to put a section in just because you see everyone else do it. Add what you feel to add and really make your book your own.

🌟 Filling Your Book With Content 🌟

Once you've got the starter pages out of the way, you can start writing about whatever you want! This is where you start to think about what it is that is important to you on your spiritual journey. What is it you're interested in for your craft? What is important to you? What are the things you want to remember? And what are the things you want to learn? Feel free to even just take some time to brain storm this. One question that can help you answer the other questions is what attracted you to witchcraft to begin with? Was it magic spells? Meeting your spirit guides and familiars? Was it crystal healing? Communicating with spirits? Astral projection? Make a list of all the spiritual things you can think of that you're interested in and want to learn. When you discover something new that peaks your interest, add it to the list! That list is going to be the content that fills your book.

For the sake of making life easier for yourself, try to divide your book into sections. For example, dedicate 2-4+ pages to one specific topic. That way you have room to add more notes and information as you learn more on your journey. If you find you need more pages in a section after you've already filled them and don't have any room, simply take a new page and tape it to one of the section pages to extend it. This is a simple and clean way to extend your sections. See what I did for my Astrology section in the picture above and below for what I mean by this.

As shown above, I have my Astrology Title Page taped to the outside of my first birthchart page.

🌟 A Few Last Words 🌟

Honestly guys, that's about all there is to it! Just remember, your Book of Shadows is something that is completely your own and doesn't need to meet any specific standard. Be creative with it and don't be afraid to mess it up! It's okay to make mistakes and you'll bond with your book even more for those mistakes. Below I have a few more ideas you could add to your book if you still feel really lost.

• Lunar Phases & how you can use them in rituals • What is the Law of Attraction and what are some of the things you're working to manifest in your life? • What is a magick spell, how do you create one, and what are some of your favorite spells or your own created spells? • What is Astral Projection, the astral planes of existence, how to astral project & techniques, and your own personal astral projection experiences? • What is Lucid Dreaming, how to perform reality checks, how to achieve astral projection through lucid dreaming, and write down the lucid dreams when you achieve them. • Use your BOS as a general dream journal, write down your dreams, reflect on them, and write down what you feel they mean. • Create an astral projection portal through your BOS! • What are familiars, how can you connect with your familiars, who your familiars are once you've met them, and your familiar experiences. • What are spirit guides, how can you connect with them, who are your spirit guides once you've met them, and your experiences with your spirit guides. • Forms of divination (tarot, oracle, pendulums, runes, etc), how to use them, what they mean, and your experiences with them. • What is astrology, your detailed birth chart, What each sign in each planet means for your birth chart, your parents and/or significant other's birth chart, and compatibilities. • What are chakras, what do chakras affect, how to heal and maintain your chakras. • Crystals and their meanings/properties, how to heal with crystals, how to make a crystal grid, how to charge crystals, meditation with crystals, and your experiences with them. • Natural home remedies, herbs and spices spiritual properties and physical benefits, your own magickal recipes and DIYs. • What is the Universe to you? Do you believe in Gods or Goddesses? Who do you choose to work with and what is their history? What kind of offerings do they like? What are your experiences with them?

Anyways guys, those are just a few ideas to the endless amount of things you could add to your Book of Shadows. It's all about your spiritual journey after all, so add what you feel most called to! I hope this post has inspired and been useful for you! If you take any inspiration from this and choose to make your own, feel free to link me to your own BOS post if you make one. I love seeing other peoples ideas and creativity. & If you enjoyed this post, don't forget to reblog and follow for more! :) Happy crafting! ♥