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j-graysonlibrary · 7 months ago

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His Transgressions Built It: Chapter 5

Title: His Transgressions Built It

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 51K

Genres: psychological horror, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website and on Kobo

Synopsis: After living almost a decade estranged from his family because of his transition, Noah is called back to his hometown to take care of his young niece and nephew when their parents die suddenly. Because the children only know of their distant "aunt", Noah pretends to be his own husband in order to not explain himself or cause further issues. But, in doing so, he has to navigate the small town, filled to the brim with his childhood trauma, under the guise of a complete stranger.

Full Chapter 5 under the cut

Noah hasn’t had cable TV for the entire time he’s been moved out on his own. He expects it to be an unknowable beast when he turns it on in the living room and flips through the channels. So much time has passed. He’s changed considerably yet the channels and the content are, remarkably, the same.

He lands on a local station, playing the news for the area. The logo—huge translucent letters at the bottom right of the screen—permeates every frame. There’s no scrolling marquee and only one anchor is present. Her hair hasn’t left the eighties and Noah begins to wonder if the news is, somehow, showing re-runs.

That’s not allowed, he’s sure.

But, then again, he’s no acquaintance to cable.

After the weather updates for the day, the screen fades to black and the commercial block plays. The first ad is for a big, chain restaurant. Noah’s fairly certain he’s seen it play before a video online…somewhat recently too. The narrator and background music is quite clear and crisp.

He lets out a quiet sigh.

Next commercial.

An aged grain blankets the screen and static hisses. The color palate of the shot instantly sends Noah on alert and all of his muscles tense as if he’s about to be dropped into freezing water. A man’s back is to the camera but his suit is all Noah needs to see to recognize him.

He doesn’t know him personally.

His sandy blonde hair, almost certainly a toupee, is thick and swoops to one side. He has a red nose and cheeks and his eye bags are quite pronounced. In spite of this, his energy is high and it used to either be infectious or attract ridicule.

Noah’s mother always hated him. Some of the kids at school thought he was funny though…

“Hey ya’ll, it’s me, Tommy Goodson, and you are not gonna BELIEVE the sales goin’ on at Tommy’s auto-emporium!” Tommy lifts up his hands into the air and pumps them a few times. “Check this out!”

He runs through a line of cars, each with big numbers painted on their windows. Already, he’s out of breath on the second car. Then, to bring the pitch home, Tommy reaches somewhere below the camera’s view and pulls back an electric guitar.

It’s not plugged into anything but he pretends to shred on it anyway and a second of some eighties rock band plays over top. Noah wonders a few things.

Did Tommy’s auto-emporium ever face legal troubles by using a sound bite he’s certain they didn’t pay for? And, trailing quickly behind that thought: is Tommy’s auto-emporium even still open? Or, is the local station running the ad solely out of habit?

Tommy lowers the guitar, ready to recap the massive sales going on. He’s breathing a bit heavy and his face is even redder now than it was at the start. He smiles through the pain and stares right into the camera.

And he stares.

And stares

And stares some more.

Noah starts to think something is wrong. It would usually be over by now. Surely even shoddy local commercials would know to cut all this dead air?

But Tommy keeps staring. And he’s staring at him.

When Noah leans to the side, Tommy’s eyes follow. He’s no longer struggling to catch his breath anymore and his cheesy salesman smile is gone. In fact, he looks rather angry with Noah.

The remote. Where is it?

As Noah reaches for it, Tommy snaps back into his persona and exclaims, “So come on down, ya’ll!” The jingle plays over some oversaturated graphics and the next commercial picks up.

Keys jingle.

It’s by the front door.

A heavy shoe against the wood. More jingling.

Noah catches a strong waft of an old scent. It’s hard to explain but it’s like straight alcohol, only on purpose with a glaze of pine. A new car. But also after-shave. The kind from the nineties that can be smelled from across a room. It’s a combination of scents but it was once all bottled together in one.

Whatever it was, his father used it as his cologne.

When the footsteps grow nearer, the scent gets stronger. Noah has a difficult time looking away from the TV. If he doesn’t see his father then, maybe, he won’t be seen either. The juvenile thought keeps him rooted to the spot.

“Hey,” Erin’s snappy voice sucks out the smell and she also allows Noah to turn his head, as a start. Her outfit is mostly pinks and whites and she’s got a white and gold purse already over her shoulder. She tosses the keys to Noah who just manages to catch them before they pelt the floor. “Time to go.”

Bryce joins them in the entryway, appearing unenthused and with a gaming console in his hand already. He’s got no interest in bowling, Noah gathers, but he still can’t just leave him behind.

The bowling alley is not where Noah remembers at all. In fact, the building looks entirely unfamiliar even if the surroundings are trying to jog some type of memory. It’s not in a place he visited often, so he considers that those memories are just harder to reach but the confusing part is that it almost looks like something, just not quite.

Almost. A little to the left, maybe? And more derelict on the outside.

This building actually appears cared for and the signs are in working condition. Through the automatic doors, there is a clean smell.

“Is this new?” Noah can’t help but ask.

“It’s been here since Bryce was a baby,” Erin states, confused. “So, no?”

“That wasn’t that long ago,” Noah replies and then receives strange looks from both of the kids. To them, of course, ten years is forever. It’s the longest stretch of time they can imagine. For Noah, it may as well be yesterday or last month.

Erin loses interest immediately in any further conversation as she sees her friends already occupying a lane. She doesn’t ask for permission and runs off on her own, shouting off a list of girls’ names as she goes.

Bryce sighs and then looks up at Noah. “Do we have to play too?”

“Not with them,” he says, hoping it’s some consolation. “We’ll have a lane to ourselves…and I’ll buy nachos.”

“…And funnel cake?”

“Sure.”

They trade in their shoes first and are given a lane. Bryce refuses the bumper rails. Though he’s uninterested in the game itself, he still sees insult in the aid. Noah doesn’t care either way so he just does whatever his nephew wants.

“You go first. I’ll grab the snacks.”

Bryce hardly acknowledges him at all but that’s been Noah’s experience so far. He thinks nothing of it and walks to the bar close by the entrance, opposite the shoe counter. One employee stands at attention and she’s not what Noah expects.

When he thinks bowling alley employee, he imagines a teenager at their first job or, maybe, a twenty-two year old trying to pick up extra money between college classes. This woman is at least in her late twenties, maybe even thirty, and she’s got a defined style outside of her uniform.

Her hair is in a short afro, maintained very carefully and dyed a copper color which her brows match. They’re thick and there’s evidence of a piercing along the left brow only there’s no jewelry there now. Her ears, however, are lined with silver studs, small hoops, with a couple of dangling bits. Glittering orange eye shadow pops against her dark skin but her lips are far less eye catching, only having a shimmery gloss that can hardly be seen at all.

Unless Noah stares, which he does for a moment.

It’s not just that she sticks out in this scenery—in this town, even—but she looks familiar. He suspects she reminds him of someone he’s met in the city but corralling those memories is akin to grabbing smoke. He’s probably just seen someone who looks like her at his old job. Lots of artsy, alternative types came though, along with the main demographic of old lady hobbyists.

“Hey, what can I get you?” The woman asks with a cheery demeanor. She has no name tag, Noah notices but then, just as fast, notices where his eyes have traveled to look for such a thing.

“Oh, um…” He’s embarrassed but maybe she doesn’t notice. Her disposition doesn’t change. “Nachos and funnel cake…what kind of drinks do you have?”

She punches a few things into the register and then she knocks her knuckle against the counter. “We’ve got some fruit punches, pretty much every pop, blue raspberry slushie and cherry slushie and, for the adults, we’ve got beer and wine.”

“You sell booze here?” Noah is surprised. He knows the old bowling alley didn’t serve alcohol.

“Yes…most bowling alleys do.” She gives him a sideways look.

“Well, sure but…” He struggles to think of how to explain himself. Saying that he used to live here contradicts what he’s told everyone else. And, while the woman at the bar in the bowling alley may not ever share this interaction or even remember it past today, his control can’t slip. If it does, he’ll pay. “It’s such a small place. I wasn’t sure…”

She chuckles. “We’re not that backward.” Noah orders a slushie for Bryce and beer for himself. He figures Erin will be occupied for a while so he’s indulging himself. While she pours the beer from the tap, the woman mentions, “I could tell you weren’t from here. It’s so small here, I feel like I’ve seen everyone.”

Noah takes the snacks and the drinks, all on a wide tray, and he tucks the receipt between his fingers. Bryce has already played for them both, a few times, but stops to dig into the food. Noah will have whatever he doesn’t want and takes a sip of his beer in the meantime, relishing in the flavor. He hasn’t had anything to drink in nearly a month and the sweet nectar almost lulls him into a state of security.

Then he glances down at the receipt. Strikingly high prices aside, he’s interested in seeing the cashier’s name. His eyes trail down the lines of text until he finds it.

Kiki.

Pins crash in the distance and he hears Erin squeal with delight, surrounded by her friends. Bryce crunches on nachos, unabashed and without slowing. Then, a whistling sound enters and everything goes silent, leaving Noah with just the space inside of his mind.

Of course the woman looks familiar. He’s angry with himself that he didn’t piece it together right away but Kiki has changed quite a bit. She looks remarkably young so she’s aged well and her hair is completely different to how she wore it in middle and high school. Her style of makeup and her piercings, too, are a far cry from the more modest and timid Kiki of the past. She’s put on some weight too, probably about as much as Noah, himself.

They spent every day together. They ate lunch together, they stayed after school to talk, and many times they tried to arrange a sleepover party. But Noah’s mother didn’t like Kiki for one plain and bigoted reason. More understandably, Kiki’s mother didn’t want her daughter spending the night under a racist’s roof.

Noah can’t even remember how he and Kiki first started talking or even what they spent so much time talking about. It’s all a blur but he knows being around her gave him the only good memories he has of his youth.

He can’t say a word to her now.

His stomach eats itself, acid spilling over and corroding all his other organs. He is struck with terror at this realization and a self loathing in retrospect to every choice he’s made since coming here. Who cares if everyone knows he’s been Mary this whole time? If it means he can reconnect with Kiki…

Bryce coughs and beats on his chest, having taken too big a bite of funnel cake. He chases it down with his slushie and then practically gags. “Ugh! Cherry?!”

“What’s the matter?” Noah asks and then throws back more of his beer. He’s looking at the bottom of the glass when he drinks now.

“I hate cherry. It tastes like medicine.”

He’s never met someone averse to cherry flavor before but he doesn’t stick on that. “They have blue raspberry too. Want that?”

Bryce nods, a hand clasped over his mouth like he’ll blow chunks if he has to swallow any more of the cherry slushie. He’s a bit dramatic but he’s ten so Noah won’t say anything. He’s also hoping to win some sort of points with his nephew by being flexible.

And he needs a new beer anyway.

Kiki has been joined by another employee, one she seems friendly with. He’s got his back to the lanes and he’s fussing with the slushie machine. His dreadlocks, tied back behind him, sway as he fights with a stubborn part of the device.

“Is it stuck again?” Kiki asks as Noah reaches the counter. His bowling shoes on the smooth floor alert her to his presence and she whips around. “Oh, hi again. Need something else? Hopefully not a slushie…”

“Actually…” Noah laughs under his breath. He can’t remember the last time he’s made such a sound and he’s thankful it even translates. “My nephew wants blue raspberry, not cherry. But, in the meantime, I’ll have another beer if, ugh, that’s all in order.”

“Sure is.” Kiki smiles and she pours him another glass.

Noah glances over his shoulder to see Bryce playing alone again. For how little he wanted to bowl, he sure is taking to it.

He doesn’t want to return without his drink and, also, he wants to keep by Kiki. Her energy, while not especially high, is still infectious and Noah wonders if it’s not the beer at all that’s putting him at ease. Even with all the cacophonous sounds in the bowling alley, he’s not yet jumped in fright or retreated into himself. He’s feeling on the cusp of normal, almost, and he wants to dig his heels in and stay here.

Kiki is far better at talking now, about nothing, and it’s probably got a lot to do with her job. Without some mastery of small talk, customer service is endless hell.

Past the shallow and observational, things go a little deeper. She even volunteers more information about herself and Noah doesn’t have to ask directly.

“I grew up here but I didn’t stay until now,” she says as she cleans off the counter in front of her. “I tried city life for a bit but, long story short, it did not work out. I bounced and came back here. It’s got it’s problems but it’s cozy enough. And the bowling alley makes us decent money.”

The way she says it raises Noah’s curiosity. “Do you own this alley?”

“Technically, Shaun does.” Kiki points to the man still working on the slushie machine. He’s retrieved a wrench at some point but Noah has yet to see him use it. He’s just gripping it in his off hand while he fights the thing. “He’s my cousin and he was left in uncle’s will to take the place. Poor Uncle Lou didn’t have more than five years as a business owner before he passed. Anyway, sad story aside, Shaun got the place but he’s not from here and he was overwhelmed so he called me up. I was already thinking about leaving the city so it worked out.”

Noah vaguely remembers Kiki mentioning a cousin before who didn’t live nearby. All of her family was spread out, save her Uncle Lou who could never decide if he wanted to live here or in the slightly larger town north of here.

Shaun finally steps away from the slushie machine and slaps it on the top. The hands start spinning and he turns around. “A’ight, I got it,” his voice is low and his words are mumbled together. He glances at Noah with big, brown eyes and an earnest expression. “What’d you need, man?”

“Blue raspberry,” Kiki says then adds, “I’ll get it.”

“Cool.” Shaun grabs a rag and cleans off his arm. His eyes land on Noah a few more times, very briefly, but he looks away quicker each time. He’s bashful or, worse, he suspects Noah of something.

Kiki presents the slushie with a smile. “Want another refill on your beer before ya go?”

He can use the relaxation but with his stint away from alcohol and a drive home in his future, he knows he shouldn’t.

With a forced smile he says, “No thanks. I gotta drive in a bit.”

Noah takes the slushie and walks toward Bryce who’s decimated the food and has reached the end of the round, bowling better on what would have been Noah’s turns than his own. He’s still projecting boredom and takes his drink with a mumbled thanks.

It’ll cost more to go another round but Erin is showing no signs of slowing, several lanes down, and Noah supposes he can find reasons to return to the bar outside of beer. He bounces his leg with a type of restlessness different than usual and he continuously stops himself from turning his head around to catch a glimpse of Kiki.

Although he’s not yet left, he already misses it here and wants to come back.

#his transgressions built it #my writing #my novel #lgbt writers #lgbt writing #transmasc novel #transmasc protagonist

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rowansparrow · 3 years ago

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The Light Between Oceans: Chapter Five

**This series is rated 18+, Minors do NOT interact or you will be blocked**

Summary: You and the rest of the rebels begin to settle in to the Mandalorian tribe.

Chapter Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of character death, grief, some graphic description.

Ships: Rex x Female!Reader, Fives x Male!OC, Fives x Female!OC

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Sorry this is a day late! Hopefully it was worth the wait. :)

Regular updates come every Saturday.

Thank you very much to @djarrex and @witchklng for their various contributions to this work. I couldn’t have done it without either of you.

Sensitive content is tagged #Ro’s Protected Tag. Please block that tag if you are concerned about content.

Reblogs are so appreciated!

The meal in the great hall was simple, just bread and vegetable soup, but after the ordeal you’d been through, it tasted like the food of gods.

You and Rex took turns eating, carefully swapping Calder between you and being cautious not to wake him as you both hungrily ate your fill.

“He’s got to be starving.” You fretted, looking down at the boy when Rex took his turn holding him.

“He’ll be alright for a bit longer, he’s still sleeping.” Rex replied. “Eat.”

“I guess it’s a blessing that loud noises don’t bother him.” You said over the chatter in the great hall. “I don’t think an ordinary baby could sleep through this.”

Rex hummed, nodding in agreement and taking another bite of his own stew, balancing Calder in his other arm.

You glanced further down the table, spotting Fives with Athena and Kiran. Fives had Kiran on his lap, and he was trying to spoon stew into his mouth while Kiran adamantly refused it. Athena just stared blankly down into her bowl, exhaustion coating her features.

“Do you have Calder for a bit?” You asked Rex.

The Captain nodded, glancing up at you as you stood, heading further down the table to check on Fives and Athena.

“-to eat, buddy.” Fives coaxed. “Please, just a little bit.”

“I don’t wanna.” Kiran mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m tired.”

“I know, but you haven’t eaten all day.” Fives said quietly. “Just a little, for me?”

“Do you want me to take him for a bit?” You offered, putting a hand on Fives’ shoulder.

“You’ve got your hands full as it is.” Fives replied gruffly, shrugging you off.

“So do you.” You replied. “Fives, let me help you.”

“I don’t want your pity.” Fives finally turned to look at you, a familiar fire behind his eyes. You frowned, but retreated, giving Athena a sympathetic look that she didn’t return. She barely even acknowledged you.

When you and Rex finished eating, you trudged sleepily to the living quarters in the mines. There were several small rooms built into the mineshafts, each one holding a bed, a small nightstand, and a chest for personal effects. The one you and Rex had been placed in also had a small floating pram for Calder stationed next to the bed.

“That was kind of them.” Rex said of the pram, running his fingers over it absently while you shut the makeshift door behind you. The room was very small, cramped enough that you and Rex had to step around each other to move, but you were both too exhausted to care. It was safe, it was warm, and it wasn’t infested with Imperials.

“I grabbed some clothes for you, along with some baby clothes we’d saved for Calder.” Rex said, shrugging his pack off his shoulder and fumbling through it. “Though, he’s so small, I’m not sure anything will fit him, yet.”

As if on cue, there was a soft knock at the door. Rex paused, opening it cautiously. In the doorway stood another armored Mandalorian, though this one was considerably shorter than the others you’d seen.

“Hello,” a young girl’s modulated voice echoed through the helmet. It seemed big on her. “We gathered some supplies for you, for your infant. We hope it’ll do for now. Mother Kitsu sends her regards.” She offered Rex a large bag. Rex took it slowly, peeking inside. Cloth diapers, clothing, a bottle, and other things filled the bag to the brim.

Rex swallowed past the growing lump in his throat. “Thank you.”

The girl nodded once, and turned abruptly, wandering away back down into the catacombs of the living quarters.

Rex shut the door again, immediately getting one of the diapers and a little grey onesie out of the bag, motioning for Calder. You swapped him, instead going through the bag while Rex dressed his son for the first time. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as the baby started to fuss.

“Shh, it’s alright Calder.” Rex said aloud, and then corrected himself, pressing a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, and then signing “It’s okay, I love you.”

Calder only cried louder, and Rex finished dressing him quickly, passing him back to you. “He’s probably hungry.”

You nodded, taking him at once while Rex resumed pawing through the bag of supplies and his own pack, carefully unloading things into the chest at the foot of your bed. Calder quieted down once he began to eat, and you stroked his cheek gently, exhaustion creeping through your body as your wound from his birth began to ache all over again.

Rex paused where he was unpacking the two bags, holding up a small stuffed tooka with royal blue and purple patchwork. “Look at this.”

“Give it here.” You said as Calder finished eating. You adjusted your clothing, burping him and then cradling him gently in your arms, taking the tooka from Rex. “Look, Calder.” You cooed, holding the tooka where he could see it. “Look at what Daddy found for you.”

Calder blinked sleepily up at the tooka, one of his little hands grabbing onto its ear and squeezing tightly. Rex chuckled, looking at him over your shoulder.

“I love you.” Rex signed to him, then repeated the motion, this time bringing his hand to his forehead first. “Daddy loves you.”

You smiled, tilting your head up to kiss Rex, leaning back against him. “Do you want to hold him for a bit?”

“Of course.” Rex said immediately, already reaching for him. He paused for a moment, drawing his hands back and instead quickly taking his shirt off. “I read that skin-to-skin contact is better for a baby.” He said, eagerly reaching for Calder again. You carefully passed Calder over, and Rex immediately leaned back on the bed, letting Calder lay against his chest.

“That’s it.” Rex soothed, stroking his hands down Calder’s back. “That’s it, little one. I’ve got you.”

You smiled, shifting to the other side of the bed and propping yourself up on one arm, watching as Rex held Calder.

“Do you want to try signing to him?” Rex asked, tilting his head back to look at you.

“I don’t know any other than what you showed me this morning.”

“This one is Mama.” Rex brought his thumb to rest against his chin, his fingers splayed out in a five. “You can say ‘Mama loves you’ now.”

You hesitated, not wanting to make a mistake, but you cautiously scooted to where Calder could see you. You waited for his soft brown eyes to land on you, wide with curiosity, and you smiled.

“Mama loves you.” You signed, making sure to go slow so he could see each movement. He watched your fingers dance, smacking his little lips together before he turned his face into Rex’s chest, his tiny hands balling up into fists.

“I don’t think he liked it very much.” You said, lowering your hand.

“He’s just not used to anything yet. He’s learning.” Rex replied with a chuckle. “Calder. My sweet boy, can you look at Daddy?” Rex sat up, shifting his grip so Calder was in the crook of his arm, and he signed again. “Mama loves you. Daddy loves you.”

“We need to practice more.” You said, brushing your fingers over Calder’s head as he yawned.

“We will.” Rex promised, booping Calder’s nose with one finger. “Give him time. He’s still so little.”

“I know.” You said softly. “I’m just… I want him to be able to understand us.”

“He will. We just need to give him time.” Rex repeated, bringing Calder close and kissing his forehead, then both his chubby cheeks. “We’ll be alright.”

You smiled, tucking your head against Rex’s shoulder and watching your son on his chest.

“Yeah.” You whispered back. “We’ll be alright.”

Fives, Athena, and Kiran had all been assigned to one room, and the three of them trudged back to it after trying to eat. None of them could stomach much food, and Kiran kept nodding off over his bowl.

Now, Fives carried the child in his arms while Athena led the way down the hall, guiding them to their room.

“This is the one.” She mumbled, pushing the door open and stepping inside. There was a bed and a small rollaway cot in the center of the room, with the same small nightstand and chest that outfitted all the rooms in the living quarters.

“Must be pretty cramped if they’re bunking people together.” Athena commented. She glanced up at Fives. “Are you okay to stay here? I can ask -.”

“’s fine.” Fives muttered, scooting past her to put Kiran on the cot. The toddler didn’t stir, and Fives tucked him in gently, brushing his hair out of the child’s eyes for a moment before straightening back up. “You think they’ve got ‘freshers down here?”

“I heard them saying something about it being at the end of the hallway.” Athena replied. “I guess each hall has its own designated refresher block.”

Fives scrubbed his hands over his face, dragging his hands slowly down his cheeks. “I think I’m gonna shower.” He mumbled around his hands. “I’ve still got – kriff it all, I’ve got his blood under my fingernails.”

“I’ve got a change of clothes for you.” Athena offered. “The Mandalorians, they gave us some clothes.”

Fives thanked her quietly, taking the clothes and straightening back up. “You and Kiran okay here for a bit?”

She nodded, rubbing Kiran’s back as he slept. “Go.” She told him gently. “We’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Fives tapped his knuckles against the door for a moment, inhaling slowly before at last stepping out into the hallway.

The refreshers weren’t hard to find. Athena had been right, a shower block had been set up at the end of each row of rooms, and Fives found his way quickly into one of the stalls. The water ran cold for several minutes before finally becoming moderately lukewarm, but Fives barely cared. He stood under the spray, the cool water easing some of the burn from his still-injured leg. The bacta and salves the Mandalorians had given him acted quickly, and Fives moved only with a slight limp, cautious of putting weight on the injured leg.

He closed his eyes, letting the water roll down his face as he scrubbed at his skin, trying to erase any traces of Quill’s blood from his body. He scraped at the undersides of his fingernails, watching as swirls of copper dripped off him and vanished down the drain. Was it his blood? Was it Quill’s? He’d bled so much himself, it was difficult to tell.

The water shut off on its own, and Fives sighed softly. He should’ve known the water would be rationed in a place like this. He’d gotten complacent, spoiled by the unlimited water at Quill’s home on Dantooine. He missed the water.

He stood there for several minutes, until his skin was covered in gooseflesh and his body had begun to tremble from the cool bite of the mine’s air filtration system. He ran his shaking hands through his hair, his fingers catching on the tangles and knots at the ends where it was growing longer.

Reluctantly, Fives finally stepped out of the refresher, dressing and glancing at the mirror above the sinks.

His eyes looked sunken, rimmed in red. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, so a patchy beard was beginning to grow around his goatee. He sighed softly, running a hand down his face and looking back in the mirror.

Quill was standing right over his shoulder, blood dripping from his eyes and mouth.

“Darling.”

Fives gasped, whipping around only to find nothing there. He panted quietly, pressing against the counter and looking around the empty refresher. He swallowed roughly, dragging his hand over his eyes again and abruptly left the room, keeping his head down as he went back into the hallway.

When he made it back to his room, a Mandalorian was just closing the door.

“Oh, hello.” The Mandalorian bowed his head respectfully. “I was just dropping off some clothes for the rest of your family.”

“My family?” Fives echoed.

“Yes, your wife and son. We found some spare clothing, so I was just -.”

“She’s not my wife.” The venom in his voice shocked even Fives. “And he’s not my son.”

“Oh.” The Mandalorian replied quietly. “Forgive me, then. I’ve dropped some clothes off for you as well.” He bowed again, making a quick exit as Fives threw open the door.

“I’m going to sleep on the Cord.” He announced.

“What?” Athena asked, sitting up slightly from where she had laid back on the bed. “Why?”

“Because I’m not sharing a bed with you.” Fives spat.

“Keep your voice down, Kiran is asleep.” Athena hissed back, standing up and going over to him. “Fives, listen, I know you’ve been through a lot, we both have, but -.”

“Don’t start with me. You have no idea what it is I’m going through.” Fives whipped around to face her, jabbing his finger into her face and forcing her back against the wall, his face inches from her own. “I want nothing to do with you, do you understand? Nothing. Don’t you dare think you can worm your way in here now that Quill’s gone, you -.”

Athena slapped him.

Fives paused, rubbing his jaw as he turned to face Athena again. Tears had begun streaming down her cheeks, but her face held nothing but contempt.

“I lost him, too.”

“Mama?”

Both of them turned towards the cot, where Kiran was sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Fives pulled back first, giving Athena room to go to the child.

“I’m sleeping in the Cord.” Fives repeated.

Athena didn’t answer. Fives turned, slipping back out of the room without another word.

Gol’Chek didn’t know how long he’d been in the medical bay.

At some point, he’d been given food. He remembered that much. Someone had cleaned him, sponged him down and redressed him in clean clothes. Doctors had been prodding at his legs, trying to find viable nerve endings for prosthetics.

But now, everything was quiet. He could hear the soft groans of the other injured drifting through the air around him, but Gol’Chek himself was quiet. He folded his hands over his stomach, letting his eyes drift closed.

We have a bond.

He inhaled slowly, deeply, centering himself.

I can sense her.

He reached out through the Force, focusing only on Ju’Lah. He tried to sense her, tried to get any sort of indication of where she might be, or if she was even alive. The thought sent an icy cord of fear through him. Was she still alive?

No. No, Maul wouldn’t have killed her. Maul was searching for her because he wanted to take her. He wanted her alive.

Gol’Chek grunted softly, forced himself to relax again. Ju’Lah was out there somewhere. She was counting on him to find her.

He closed his eyes. Focused in.

When he reopened his eyes, he was no longer in the medical bay. Instead, he was back on Gyatta, in the middle of the jungle. He knew exactly where he was, knew this path by heart. He had walked it many times with Ju’Lah, back before the Separatists had razed their village and sent their warriors to slaughter the Garbak people.

“So, you really don’t remember anything from before?”

Gol’Chek whipped around. He knew that voice.

“It comes and goes. Most of it’s a blur.”

He saw himself come into view, walking the path alongside Ju’Lah. His double stopped, investigating a flower along the path.

“What about this one, is this it?”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Ju’Lah replied, flashing him a smile. “The gol’chek flower only blooms at the summit of Ancient’s Pass. That’s why only the greatest warriors can get it.”

“I’m just testing you.” Gol’Chek chuckled, picking the flower anyway and handing it to Ju’Lah. She smiled, letting the bloom float in her hand for a moment before pushing it upwards, letting it drift towards the sky before gently floating it back down.

“Is that what they teach you the Attunement for?” Gol’Chek teased. “Magic tricks with flowers and rocks?”

“And healing. And hunting, and tracking, and anything else to do with the natural world.” Ju’Lah retorted, flicking her wrist so the blossom swung from the air and instead smacked Gol’Chek in the face.

He chuckled, swatting the flower away.

Gol’Chek knew this memory. It was one he revisited many times himself.

“I’m in her head.” He whispered aloud. “She’s reliving this memory.”

“So… what do you remember, then?”

“Come again?”

“You said ‘most’ of it is a blur.” Ju’Lah replied. “So, what do you remember?”

“There’s… a woman.”

“Oh?” She paused a few feet ahead of him, looking over her shoulder. “Who is she?”

“Someone important.” He said softly, looking at his hands, as if he could conjure a memory of holding her in his arms, feel the way her hands felt in his, something, anything to jog his memory. “But I can’t even remember her face. I just see… shapes.”

“Shapes?” Ju’Lah giggled, picking up two large rocks from the path and holding them against her chest. “Big round shapes?”

Gol’Chek tried to swat at her, but she laughed, dodging and rolling the rocks around on her chest again.

“That’s the last time I answer any of your questions.” He griped, brushing past her and continuing his walk. She laughed again, finally dropping the rocks and jogging to catch up with him.

Gol’Chek followed after them. “Ju’Lah!” He called, reaching for her even as she seemed to get further away. “Ju’Lah!”

“What was she like?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Are you just ignoring me because I made you mad?”

“No, I said I don’t remember.” He shook his head. “Let’s… talk about something else.”

“Okay, what else do you remember?” She peppered him with another question, jogging to catch up with his quickened pace.

“Something other than that, Lah’ika.”

“You remember your other language. The one your people spoke.”

He cocked an eyebrow up at her in confusion, and she shrugged. “You talk in your sleep sometimes.”

“So you sit outside my hut and listen to me when I sleep?” Gol’Chek asked, his eyebrow arching higher.

“No, back before you were really awake, when we were still taking care of you.” She elaborated. “You would talk in your sleep, but it was always words none of us could understand. And that word, the thing you just called me, Lah’ika. It’s a nickname.”

“Yeah, so?”

“We don’t do that with our names. You added that suffix yourself.” She said. “So it must’ve come from your mother tongue.”

Gol’Chek moved in front of them instead, trying to physically grab Ju’Lah, but the dreamlike figures walked right through him. “Ju’Lah! Wake up!” He shouted again. “It’s me, wake up!”

“Ad’ika.”

Ju’Lah cocked her head to the side, her ears twitching.

“It… it means little one. Or sometimes child, depending on the context.” He said. “So, when combined with a name, it’s a term of endearment. So Lah’ika is… Little Ju’Lah.” He mumbled.

She hummed. “I like it.” She scampered ahead again, checking out a tree. “So what would they call you, then, in your mother tongue?”

“Vod.” He answered immediately. “It’s what we called one another, my people.”

“What’s it mean?”

He was quiet for several moments, and she turned to face him again. “Gol’Chek? You okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, shaking himself out of his trance. “Brother. It means brother.”

She hummed again, her ears flattening and draping over her back. “And what do the little ones call the older ones, then?” She asked. “If I’m an ad’ika, then you would be…” She trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blank.

“You would be my buirkan.” Gol’Chek replied. “My responsibility.”

Then, after a moment’s pause: “You are my buirkan, Lah’ika.”

She nodded to herself. “I like your language.” She said decidedly. “Will you teach me more of it?”

“If I can remember it, yes.”

Gol’Chek reached for Ju’Lah again, his hands passing right through her. “Lah’ika.” He tried instead. “Lah’ika, please, I need you to wake up. Remember me. I’m here. I’m here!”

Ju’Lah was blessedly quiet for a few moments after that, but Gol’Chek should’ve known better than to assume her curiosity would be sated, because barely a minute had passed before she asked another question.

“What would you call someone who is a parent?”

“Buir.”

“Can I call you that, then?”

“JU’LAH!”

His hands finally collided with the flesh of her arms, and Ju’Lah gasped finally seeing him for the first time.

“Buir?”

Tag List: @wild-karrde @tsundere-cherry-girl @jesjestraverse @theroguesully @clonecyaree @salaminus @book-of-baba-fett @starwarsmeninhelmets @ladykatakuri @cosmic-persephone @djarrex @literallydontlook @bobafettuccini @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @a-c-lee @chromia7567 @embarrassedauthornerd @itsagrimm @seriowan @gotomarvelgal @space-b33 @moonstrider9904 @frietiemeloen @writingbylee @witchklng

#ro writes #tlbo #the light between oceans

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thatonecoryosimp · 3 years ago

Text

Intoxicating. Trapped in a New World-Chapter 3

Hello, my darlings! This chapter is late, and I'm so sorry for that. This is definitely not my best work ever, but I really wanted to get this out to you before I lost motivation. Speaking of, for my own mental health, I have decided to only update every other Wednesday. This will hopefully mean that my chapters will be higher quality since it'll give me more time to spell and grammar check after finishing them. Also, I'm happy to announce that my requests are open again! YAY!

Series Masterlist

Words: 1,074

7/14/22

The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon when I woke up. It casted a golden glow of light into the room. I sat up and stretched. My arms reached up as I tried to get used to the feeling of being in the waking world again.

Dream was already awake, sitting on the couch with his nose stuck in a book. I’m not exactly sure how he can see while he wears that mask, there’s no visible cut outs where his eyes are. I pushed my curiosity aside and stood up with a start.

Dream’s head snapped to my figure.

“Do you want any breakfast before we start the day?” he asked as he marked the page he was on.

“No. It feels weird to eat in the morning,” I answered with a smile as I walked over to him.

He hummed and nodded. He patted the space next to him and scooched over to make room. I plopped down and sighed, leaning my head back against the sturdy wood.

“When do you plan on going out?”

“As soon as you feel like going, doll.”

I smiled and nodded, choosing to ignore the name he used.

“How do you see?”

“Pardon?”

“With the mask. How do you see?”

“The eyes are made of special material, it’s opaque on the outside and clear on the inside.”

“Interesting.”

“Mhm.”

It was about ten minutes later when I decided that I was tired of sitting around.

“You ready to get started?”

“Yeah, I’m sure Sapnap will be up by the time we’ll be back.”

Dream stood up and walked over to the same chest as yesterday. He glanced around at the content for a second before pulling out two stone axes. He handed one to me and then jerked his head towards the door.

I followed him outside as he took me to the nearby forest. The short walk was pretty quiet. It was pretty nice, actually. Walking around just past dawn was surprisingly relaxing.

“So, I think one of the most important things for you to learn is how to cut trees. I know you could probably figure it out yourself, but I thought you would want some company.”

I smiled and looked towards the thick mass of trees.

“I mean,” I started as I tilted my head towards him with a smile, “two is better than one, right?”

Dream had to walk me through how the ‘inventory’ system worked. None of us are exactly sure of the logistics of being able to store items in thin air and then select them when we need them, but it sure is useful so I can’t complain.

The next few days were a complete blur. Filled to the brim with useful information that I had gathered in a small journal Dream had gifted me. By the end of the last day my muscles were exhausted and my mind wasn’t functioning in the way it probably should.

Sapnap and George had gone on a mining exhibition that left Dream and me home alone.

Dream sat across from me at the newly installed dining table. We had been brainstorming ideas for the new house that we wanted to build. Dream was mapping out a floor plan while I sat trying to pay attention.

My mind was a static mess. It seemed I was only processing white noise. My shoulders were aching and my back felt like it was on fire.

“Are you alright?” His voice had managed to cut through the void of my mind. He was right beside me, his hands on my shoulders, “You’ve been all weird and distant.”

“I’m fine, just really sore.”

His mask was pushed up just enough for me to see him smile.

“Do you want a massage?”

“God do I.”

He stood up and walked over to the, now padded, couch.

He sat a pillow on the floor between his legs and gestured for me to sit down. Once I had, his hands started running up and down my neck, getting a feel of the tenseness.

The tips of his fingers ghosted to my shoulders before he firmly grabbed them. His thumbs pushed into my shoulder blades and started rubbing in smooth circular motions. His fingers were being pushed into my skin every so often as he rolled his hands with the movements of his thumbs.

I leaned back into his touch as I sighed. It felt like his hands were working magic.

“Is you back sore too?”

I barely processed the words but still managed to nod. Suddenly, I was being pulled up. I let out a surprised yelp which elicited a chuckle from him.

He bent over and grabbed the pillow from the floor and placing it on his legs. He pulled me down onto it. I gasped and grabbed his shoulders as he pulled me to his chest.

“Calm down,” he muttered, lips barely brushing against my ear, “just relax, I’ve got you.”

My face heated up so I elected to settling my head in his shoulder and hiding. I heard him chuckle before his hands started tracing up and down my back. His fingers gliding along my sides before tracing down my spine.

His hands gently lifted the back of my shirt and started rubbing at the skin on my lower back.

“I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

“No.” My voice was just barely above a whisper when I spoke.

His hands continued to trace on the bare skin of my back, at one point he started running his nails up and down over and over again.

I heard him start humming, his chest vibrating with the sound as he lulled me into a state of unconsciousness. My eyes had drifted shut, too heavy for me to keep them open.

I swore I heard him say something under his breath but I couldn’t quite make it out, my mind too drowsy to make any form of cohesion.

His touch was so intoxicating that it was worrisome, it made me want things I shouldn’t want, especially with a man I’ve only known for a week. But, if you had given me the option, I would’ve chosen to stay in this moment, with his hands on me, with no worry in the world.

I slipped into darkness after a few more minutes, letting the warmth of sleep overtake me.

~~~

“You look so pretty like this.”

~~~

Hello, my lovelies! You look gorgeous, all of you! Nothing exciting has happened within the last little bit so I don't have much to say here.

Stay safe, and drink water. I love you!

~Jules <3

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream #dreamwastaken #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #fluff #x reader #eventual smut #eventual angst #x reader fluff #dream x reader fluff

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xpeachesncream · 4 years ago

Text

bands | five

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, implied nudity/nudity (at the nightclub), teasing, sprinkle of breast touching, alcohol consumption, pole dancing, straddling/lap dances, slight degradation/implied degradation, rough handling, flashback scene

note: took a stab at this jungkook one shot + wips are updated!

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi@ephemeralkookie @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

'Do better' is exactly what Jungkook does, because he wants you, and he wants you bad. He thought he had you wrapped around his finger, when in fact, you had him wrapped around yours and he was crumbling by the minute. It's a little entertaining to you, seeing his name pop on your phone throughout the day with texts like:

[jungkook]: have a good day today, pretty lady.

[jungkook]: :)

[jungkook]: can't stop thinking about you and how good you looked last night.

[jungkook]: hope you aren't overworking yourself.

[jungkook]: can i call you tonight?

You would chuckle every single time, seeing him weak for you. You weren't gonna lie - you were fucking weak for him too, cause lord, who wouldn't be with Jungkook? The only difference is that you were just the stronger one between the both of you.

Ha, ain't shit but a hairflip. You for sure got this from your mama.

"To the club for Yoongi hyung's birthday!" Taehyung yells after they finish rehearsals for the next set of performances scheduled to happen in the next week and filming some content for Youtube.

"To the club-club!" Namjoon responds, throwing his hat back on.

"Excited to see some pretty girls shaking their ass and titties in my face." Yoongi lets out a cocky laugh.

"No private show?"

"No, hell no. I want 'em all." Yoongi smirks. "Jungkookie is the only one who loves his private shows."

"Yeah, yeah." Jungkook brushes it off with a chuckle.

"Are we finally gonna figure out who she is tonight?"

"Nope. She's not working tonight. Good try." He feels relieved saying that because to be honest, he's feeling completely and utterly selfish with you. He didn't wanna share, not with the guys. Hell no.

Except he's gonna have to tonight and he has yet to learn that.

» FLASHBACK

Jimin had just solidified the plans with Yoongi a couple of hours ago, learning that he wanted to head to the strip club for his birthday. And yeah, everyone has their own favorites. Everyone has their own agenda coming to the club. But, Yoongi says he wants to shut down the club for the evening so all 7 of them can enjoy the general floor together.

So, Jimin makes it a goal to grant Yoongi's wishes, but he also has another thing on his mind.

He had been picking up on Jungkook's little habits lately, even though he was notorious for always being on his phone and for barely paying attention to the environment around him. Jimin just knew he had it bad for you, miss new girl, simply by how his mood would change whenever he looked at his phone. How he was always at the club. How he always got shy and beat around the bush whenever you were brought up.

He just knew.

And to be honest, he was concerned. Moreso for Jungkook and his safety. Jungkook and his feelings. Things didn't sit right for him, and he worried that you were only out for his money. For his fame. For the attention. For all the wrong things. And he didn't like that shit one bit. He wasn't gonna let anyone take advantage of his little brother like that, he wouldn't give anybody the chance.

He wants to figure out who exactly you were. He wants to find out what you're all about. He wants to finally meet you face to face.

"Mr. Park Jimin!" Mr. Bigs says with a loud laugh. Jimin gives him a small smile as he tugs the brim of his hat down and approaches him. "How can I help you?"

"Yoongi's birthday is coming up at the end of the week, is it possible to shut the club down so the rest of the guys can enjoy the general stage together?" He pulls out an envelope and hands it to Mr.Bigs, his smile getting bigger the more he counts all the dollar bills inside.

"Whatever works for my boys." He laughs.

"Thanks." Jimin chuckles. "Uh, one more thing - if it's not too much of a bother, could I request a specific dancer to be out on the floor that night?"

"Yeah, of course you can. Who's the lady we're thinking of?"

"Whoever Jungkook's lady is." Mr. Bigs laughs so more and nods.

"Ah, I'm assuming he wants her there, huh? He really loves watching that young lady, but hey, whatever works and makes ya'll happy right?"

"Yeah, I suppose he does. I'd like to keep the request between us though." Jimin lies.

"Don't you worry about it. I'll make sure Phoenix is there that night. I'll have all of this covered so Mr. Min Yoongi has a fantastic birthday." He winks.

"Thanks, sir. We'll see you then." Jimin nods his head before heading out. Mr. Bigs waits until Jimin is out the door before pulling out his phone to give you a call.

"Hello?"

"You need to be here Friday, special request."

"From who? Can't I just take the—"

"Stop questioning me little girl, you hear me? Your ass better be here on Friday or else I'm taking a chunk out of your fucking tips and check." He abruptly ends the call.

» END FLASHBACK

And so the infamous Bangtan Sonyeondan boys are dressed, whipping out their cleanest, black attires from their closets. They take a couple of shots back to back before they're loading into their cars to be driven to the strip club. The club is empty, except for a few body guards, bar staff and the dancers.

"Oh shit, we get our own private show? Like actually?" Yoongi says, stepping into the empty club that was more than ready for the boys' arrival. There were topless dancers waiting alongside the stage with trays filled with different drinks and shots.

"Happy birthday, hyung." Jimin says, playfully massaging his shoulder.

"God, this is such a good way to end the day." Namjoon takes a shot from one of the beautiful ladies near the general stage. He smirks at her as he eyes her up and down, licking his lips when he realizes how fucking skimpy the bikini bottom she has on actually is. "Sheesh."

"Boys!" Mr. Bigs' deep voice comes from the other end of the club as he approaches them. "Please, enjoy and help yourself to whatever you like. Happy Birthday, Mr. Min Yoongi." He winks.

"Thank you, sir!" Yoongi yells as he grabs another shot from the tray. The rest of the boys follow suit, taking more drinks and eyeing the ladies around them, but Jungkook helps himself to a seat in the front of the general stage.

"Someone misses his private lady." Hobi jokes, causing him to shake his head.

"Whatever, as long as I don't have to share her with you guys." He spits out. "What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine." Jungkook finishes jokingly with his infamous line. It seems like a full house of dancers tonight, either on the sidelines or now entering the general stage. Jungkook rests his foot on his knee, ready to get the night started so he can enjoy, but also hurry on home afterwards to try and hear your voice.

But you were in the back room of the club.

No one really knew what was going on outside unless you had been outside already. Mr. Bigs gave you all a pep talk saying each and every single one of you needed to be on your best behavior, especially out on the floor. Bigs and his men refused to name the special guests just so none of you would psych yourselves out and mess up. You didn't know you were soon going to be catering to the BTS boys together, and Jungkook didn't know you were going to be one of the main dancers on stage either. His eyes were glazing over the rest of the girls on stage because they weren't you, to be honest. I mean, hell. It's always nice to be around topless, beautiful women. But he had gotten so used to seeing you. Your face. Your body. Touching you. Smelling your strawberry scent.

Jimin situates himself next to Jungkook, the rest of the group aligning themselves along the seats in front of the stage. He eyes Jungkook, taking note of how uninterested and bored he was - so bored that he even caught him trying to hide his yawn. Maybe he was just tired, as with everyone else, but that just meant his special lady friend wasn't out yet.

"You three, up. Now." Bigs says, coming into the backroom from the floor, pointing his finger towards the curtains. "Phoenix, remember. Don't throw no stupid ass attitude out there, playing hard to get like you're some kind of queen." He scoffs in disgust before dismissing the three of you. You roll your eyes, already highly irritated being there since it was originally your day off and no one wanted to give you answers as to why you needed to be there. Mr. Bigs had almost all the dancers out here to tonight, why the fuck would he need you?

The lights are off for a quick second before they dimly shine onto the stage, the music playing loudly in the background. You step onto the stage, your eyes instantly landing on the man front and center.

Jungkook.

You swallow the lump in your throat seeing the rest of the boy band around him, already smirking and licking their lips at the sight of you and the two other dancers on the stage. Jungkook adjusts himself in his seat, fixing his jacket as he sits upright to lean forward onto his knees. His eyes are glued onto you, almost like he's confused as to why you're here right now.

Why you're giving him and his boys a show.

Jimin catches Jungkook's slight uneasiness, his gaze following Jungkook's onto the stage. His eyes were set on you, the pretty lady swirling her body around the silver pole in the middle of the stage.

"She's fucking beautiful." Yoongi says, immediately getting up and reaching into the inner breast pocket of his jacket to pull out some bills. He stands in the front, almost blocking Jungkook's view of you. He catches Yoongi placing a couple of hundreds under the bottom portion of your fishnet bodysuit. The bodysuit that captured your curves so perfectly - thighs thick and full, ass cheeks popping out of the thong portion, your titties and pussy very visible through the fishnet material. God, you were a fucking beauty. Jungkook watches as you squat in front of Yoongi, bouncing up and down before you get up scandalously and shake your ass in front of his eyes. "Ohhhh shit." Yoongi bites onto his bottom lip as he laughs and tucks more bills near your thigh.

"It's his birthday!" Hobi yells, causing you to smirk at Yoongi and grab his hand to let him feel up on your breast. Jungkook shifts in his seat, a little envious of how Yoongi was able to touch you in that way before he was able to. Like fuck? Could it be my birthday too? Could it be my birthday everyday? He was never gonna let this one go. He continues to watch as you push Yoongi back onto his chair and give him a birthday lapdance.

"Happy birthday." You say softly in his ear before getting back up on the stage to do some tricks on the pole.

One, two: Turn upside down.

Three, four: Wrap them legs around.

Five, six: Treat the pole like a slip and slide.

Seven, eight: Flip back up and slide back down.

"Damn, it's my birthday over here too." Jin says tapping his lap and tossing a roll of bills near you before looking over at Taehyung. He's also throwing bills onto the stage, but he's focused on the other main lady off to the side. Still doesn't mean he isn't throwing bills your way either, cause he is every chance he gets to look over at you.

"Like what you see?" Jimin jokes with Jungkook.

"Yeah." Is all he says as he's approaching you. He gives you this look, which you don't understand what it means, but you didn't have the time to decipher it right at this moment. You watch Jungkook closely, his mouth pressed tightly together as his eyes are still scanning your entire body before he brings them back up to meet your eyes. You crawl towards him seductively, your fingers lightly brushing down his neck before you gently tug on his jacket. He doesn't say anything as he tucks bills near your titties, giving you one last look before sitting back down in his seat.

The main show comes to an end pretty quickly afterwards, other dancers making their way to the poles if they wanted or kept serving the boys whatever they needed. You hop off the stage, collecting your bills and folding them tightly together, tucking it deep on the side of your breast to keep it hidden. You head outside to get some air because what the fuck just even happened? You weren't expecting that whatsoever, even though you knew better than that. You should have always thought there would be a chance you'd have to do what you just did. You should have always been prepared.

"Lil mama, you looked good dancing up there in that tiny ass suit you got on." One of the men in Bigs' crew said as they lingered outside the backroom door, smoking cigarettes. "What do you say? Wanna come home with me so I can help get that off?" He smirks, approaching you.

"I'm only out here to get some air, please don't come up to me with all that bullshit." You spit out, causing the guy to furrow his brows at you.

"This one's got a little fire in her." He laughs, coming closer to you. "Whatchu gonna do if I don't take no for an answer, miss thang?" He grips your wrist tightly. You try to break free, but after tonight, you were too fucking tired to even deal with his stupid shit. "Oh, she's weak now?" He grips tighter, making you wince as you try to pry him off. He brings you closer, his face inches away from yours - so close you can smell the smoke and alcohol mixed together, coming off of his breath. Suddenly, you hear someone clear their throat behind them, their attention going from you to the individual. "Oh shit, it's Jeon Jungkook." You watch as the man lets you go, Jungkook standing there with his hands in his pockets and jaw clenched. He doesn't say anything besides nod to acknowledge them. "Big fan, dude."

"The fuck? I had my private show scheduled with Phoenix almost 10 minutes ago. You guys have been holding her up?" Jungkook is obviously throwing on an angry act because you didn't have any private shows booked tonight.

"Shit, my bad. I didn't know—"

"You didn't know cause you were too busy being a jackass?"

"Mr. Jeon, no disrespect here. I'm sorry I took time away from your show. Please, take whatever time you need with her - on me." He says, his friends silently standing by as they throw their cigarettes and go back inside.

"Yeah, it should be on you for fucking wasting my time." Jungkook doesn't say anything else, but he does glare at him until he's almost tripping over himself making his way back inside the club. "You okay?" Jungkook asks, coming closer.

"Yeah. Thanks." You rub your hand up and down your arm, the cold air nipping at your skin.

"I thought you said you weren't working tonight."

"I wasn't supposed to. Bigs just told me I was requested to be here tonight." You raise your eyebrow. "Wait, how did you not know? I thought it was—"

"You thought it was me that requested for you?" He chuckles. "Funny that you think I'd share you with the guys."

"Sooo?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "Maybe he just wanted his best dancers to be here."

"Hm." You slightly smirk at the compliment. "Best dancers, huh?" He rolls his eyes and playfully sighs.

"Yeah, don't milk it." A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You gonna be here all night?"

"Possibly since it's Yoongi's birthday." You nod. He stays silent as he looks at you for a bit, his head slightly cocked to the side.

"So does he get a pass for tonight?" Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head.

"Only cause it's his birthday."

"Mm, not even because he's your senior or anything of the sort?"

"Nah." He smiles a bit. "Not at all. I hope you know I'll never forget it."

"Please, I didn't know Jeon Jungkook was a drama actor, too. What can't he do?" You sarcastically say.

"Okay, say whatever you want." He kicks the dust below his shoes as he lightly chuckles with you. It's silent again, but it's a calming silence. There's no awkward vibes or anything of that matter. You begin to rub your arms again, the cold nipping at your skin harshly. "You should get back inside, it's freezing." He watches you shiver in front of him. He isn't sure if he should hand you his jacket, even if he does want to help you out in the slightest bit, but he figures he shouldn't since you still needed to finish your shift.

"Okay." Your expression softens. "See you in there?" He silently nods, watching your hips sway back and forth until you're deeper in the club. The night doesn't end for everyone until a little bit past 2, close to 3am. You're hauling your tired ass back home, Kai struggling and barely making it alive as soon as you walk through your front door.

"Jesus fuck, thank god." He shuts the TV off and covers his entire body with the blankets.

"Kai, I told you that you didn't have to wait."

"Well until you're out of the club, this is my life now." Why was everyone so dramatic tonight? You chuckle to yourself.

"Okay, if you say so. Night bubba."

"Night." He yawns. In about 2 seconds, he's back to snoring loudly, causing you to laugh to yourself as you get ready for bed.

[jungkook] 3:14am: home?

[y/n] 3:17am: yes. you?

Maybe Kai didn't have to stay up for you after all.

[jungkook] 3:23am: yeah.

[jungkook] 3:24am: i'm assuming you had a really long day today so sleep well, Y/N. can i call you tomorow?

[y/n] 3:20am: you can, i don't know if i'll answer though. :) goodnight jungkook.

And so Jungkook smiles to himself before grabbing a water and heading back to his dorm room. He was slowly getting used to your sarcasm and attitude, being that he has never had to deal with someone being this way towards him. It was fun, and new.

"So was your lady actually there tonight?" Taehyung asks with Jimin sitting next to him.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jungkook scrunches his nose before turning on his heel to walk away.

"Wow, Jungkookie is being selfish. Namjoon hyung go scold him." Namjoon laughs.

"Jungkookie don't be selfish." Joon says nonchalantly just to keep Taehyung happy.

"Yeah, yeah." He shuts himself in his room to get ready for bed. Jimin silently sits next to Taehyung as they relive the night's events before going to bed. He had seen you and Jungkook talking outside, which only solidifies his assumption.

And he was onto you.

youtube

i'm good on that pussy shit; i don't want what i can get, i want someone with secrets that nobody, nobody, nobody knows

track six: gangsta - kehlani

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scribeofmorpheus · 4 years ago

Text

Himmeløyne [28/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT WARNING (but like, tasteful smut)

A/N: Finally, an update! Sorry for the wait guys, truly, I honestly thought I would have finished this series before the Loki series premiered but I've been struggling with some personal, life-gives-you-lemons shit, and I was burned out--Bad! Anyway, hope you enjoy this little chapter. ♥

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please

~Y/N

The great hall was filled with boisterous laughter—not prideful, but proud all the same, enamoured with the world in the moment. Clutter of wine goblets after every toast was like music. Fandral had occasionally burst out in song between each meal served, acting like the bard he was. Thor listened intently as Volstagg recounted the last couple of days while Hogun nursed his drink in silence, content.

“I think your dear prince is in need of saving,” Sif leaned closer to you, nudging her chin towards a far corner of the room. You blushed when she called him yours.

Loki was getting an earful from Heimdall. His ears were the faintest bit red—flustered, or perhaps embarrassed—yet, if one didn’t know what tells to look for, his discomfort would be impossible to deduce from simple conversation.

You watched the two of them converse in hushed tones. Loki caught your glance and gave a wink as reassurance.

“Oh, I think he can handle himself,” you said to Sif. Then you saw Loki rub the back of his neck, an awkward laugh leaving his lips. Whatever Loki said had given Heimdall reason for pause. They both stood there, quiet, unsure of what to say, shifting from one leg to the other. “Or not.”

“They look like they’re being tortured, poor sods.” Sif took a sip of her wine, smiling into the brim. “Go. Save them. Again.”

You excused yourself from the table and walked over to the two men. You carried an extra wine goblet as a peace offering.

“Enjoying the festivities?” you handed Heimdall the goblet. Thankful, he swirled the wine around so he’d have something to do.

“Immensely,” Loki said a little too enthusiastically. His toothy smile was forced, out of place. The awkward silence set in again.

“Oh, since the two of you are getting along so well, I’ll head back to the table. Volstagg is on his second boar, and Sif and I placed a bet to see if he’d finish it whole. My money is on half. Sif bet on a third.” You took a step back and both men protested. You had to resist the urge to laugh. Two gods, both immensely power, were terrified of awkward silences.

Heimdall cleared his throat as if he were about to say something. Loki reached for your elbow. “Please, stay,” he whispered.

You pressed your lips together to keep from smiling too wide. His look was pleading, desperate and you found it adorable. You nodded discretely, shooting him a wink of your own. Loki let out a sigh of relief in secret, keeping one step behind you, as if you were his shield. It was subtle, but every time there was a sudden noise, he’d flinch. You reached for his hand. His hand warmed to your touch, so did his disposition

The room was lively, a stark contrast to how tense and unwelcoming the palace had been a few hours ago.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” you said, toying with your wine close to your lips. “A day ago, this would have all seemed impossible.”

“A day ago I was being hunted by a figment of my mind. Strange is putting it mildly.” Loki’s hand squeezed yours as if he was trying to see if you were real. If everything around him was real. He emptied his goblet in a single swig. “Refill?” Loki took your goblet despite it being half-full and made his way towards the wine casks stacked against the wall.

“Get old enough, and little surprises you anymore,” Heimdall said, eyeing yours and Loki’s handfasting tattoos. “That, however, did. Is it what you wanted?”

You searched your father’s face. There was concern present in his eyes, but his voice was soft. You looked down at your hand and then at Loki, and couldn’t help but smile. A fluttering filled your stomach. It had been a while since you’d been hopeful.

“It didn’t happen how I imagined it would, but, yes, this is what I want.”

Heimdall nodded, “That’s all I needed to know.”

“Really? That’s it?”

He smiled, “We’ve spent most of our time together fighting. Fighting the past, a king, magic. The last thing I want to do is be at odds with you. And, despite my reservations, if Loki makes you happy then I won’t stand in your way.”

“From where I was sitting, it looked like he needed some rescuing. What did you say to him?” You watched Loki make his way back.

“Oh, that’s one secret I’m going to keep to myself.” With a smile, Heimdall kissed your forehead, ready to retire for the night. “Though, I can’t say that making him squirm didn’t amuse me. Now, I think it’s time I turn in for the night.”

“Goodnight, Father,” you said.

He froze, momentarily, getting used to his new role, to the familiarity you were both beginning to find in your new relationship. Then, warmly, he said his goodbyes. His large frame disappeared into the bulk of the crowd and out the large doors.

Loki, more comfortable now that it was just the two of you, placed his hand on the small of your bank. His thumb brushed against the silky material there, his cheeks flush from the wine.

“Still in one piece?” you teased as he handed you your wine goblet.

“Barely,” Loki sighed in relief, shoulders slumping.

You set your goblet on a nearby table so you could run your fingers through his hair. “What did he say?”

He took you in his arms, fingers laced around the small of our back. “What any father would. That I should do my best to make you happy. And if I don’t, he’ll make sure I regret it. And I was very much inclined to believe him.”

Loki searched the room for someone, his eyes serious with thought.

“What is it?” you asked, selfishly wanting all of his attention to be on you.

He practically mumbled his next words, “I don’t see Baldrick anywhere.”

“Ah,” you smirked. “Your mother mentioned something about bribing him with sweets in exchange for a smile. I think she took him to the kitchen.”

Loki’s brow furrowed, but his smirk let you know it wasn’t agitation, it was reverie, the pleasant kind.

You cupped his cheeks to draw his gaze back down towards you, “Is something the matter?”

“N—No, everything’s fine. It’s just…there’s something about him. It’s like…” he shook his head, wisps of hair tickling his jaw. “I don’t quite know how to describe it.”

But you did, “Like you know him from somewhere.”

Loki nodded, that inquisitive look returning slowly. “Yes. Almost.”

A loud rumble, followed by some deafening laughter broke through the hall’s music. Loki flinched again, this time it was harder for him to hide his reaction. You walked towards the large doors, pulling him in tow. He didn’t protest, and from the look on his face, you could tell he was happier away from loud noises.

When the two of you were alone, strolling the hallways, hand in hand, you continued: “We’ve all felt it. It’s like we’re connected. But I don’t know-how, and he won’t tell me.”

“How did you find him?”

“That is a very long, very complicated story.”

Loki looked at the winding hallways, admiring the large columns and amber lighting. “It’s a nice night for a walk. We can take the scenic route.”

As you and Loki walked at a leisurely pace, stopping now and again to take in the sights. And once you started talking, it became easier and easier to keep going. Loki was silent, but you didn’t need him to say anything, you just needed someone to listen. It felt good, like a weight was being lifted, brick by brick. Before you knew it, you were stopped by a door, deep in the palace. It was your bedroom door. The two of you stood there, lost for words, and you could swear the air turned hot and thick. Instantly, you thought of the night by the balcony where you’d shared your first kiss. Suddenly, you felt the urge to close the distance between the two of you. You opened your mouth to say something, but Loki cut you off, his focus drawn to your intertwined hands.

“I wanted to thank you,” he said.

“For what?” you took a step towards him.

“Everything,” he looked you in the eye, squeezing your hand. “For being you. For… for being by my side when I needed you.”

You leaned close, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. At the contact, you felt a sliver of something electric, full of desire and a calmer sensation, close to contentment. Your stomach knotted, and you felt that familiar pull of your magic reaching out for his, anticipating that flutter to fill your stomach. You lingered in the kiss, waiting for his magic to touch yours, but the wait wasn’t ending so you broke away first, half confused, half disappointed. “Well, get used to it. Because it looks like you’re stuck with me.” You raised your intertwined hands to show off your linked tattoos.

The corner of his mouth twitched, that bashful smirk of his threatened to return. He kissed your forehead before taking a step back. “You should go in, rest. It’s been quite the eventful day.”

You couldn’t shake the thought that he was pulling away from you. As he motioned to turn around, you reached for him and said, “Stay with me.”

He tensed, mouth opening with no words behind them.

“I don't want to be alone tonight,” you said. “And, I think, you don’t either.”

“No. I don’t,” he admitted.

“Then why are you shutting me out?”

“Shutting you out?” he said the words as if they were an absurdity, then he laughed. “I could never dream of shutting you out.”

“I can feel this…distance between us, and I—”

A fevered rush filled your belly, the sensation you’d been yearning for and instantly, in a grand, sweeping motion, Loki cradled your face and kissed you. You could feel what he was feeling, and you knew it went both ways. You moaned into the touch and his reaction was equally carnal. His body pressed yours against the door and you could practically taste his desire, his lust. It was sweet and bitter all at once. Powerful. Glorious.

Your body reciprocated to his touch, tangling itself against him, one leg hooked over his hip. He held you steady, pressing the hardness of himself deeper. His tongue tasted of wine and you savoured it. A deep, pleasant rumble left his chest as he angled his mouth so he could further explore your own. Soon you were sharing more than emotions and phantom sensation, you were sharing thoughts, memories, fantasies. First was the memory of your first kiss on the balcony. It was tangled together with fantasy, of you beneath green, velvet sheets, moaning Loki’s name as he entered you. Then your own dreams melded in, the one of the snake and the cave. The rushing images were so potent that you could have sworn the fantasy actually happened.

Loki’s next moan was practically primal. You whimpered when you felt him harden against your lifted thigh. Your body started to ache, desperately. Loki held your tattooed hand against the door, fingers straining from the tightened grip. When the kiss ended, you both backed away, your lungs were so starved of air that you had to place your hand on your chest just to make sure you were still breathing.

“Your eyes are glowing,” he shocked out between breaths.

You placed your palm on your belly and squeezed, stifling a moan as you shut your eyes for a moment. “That was…” you swallowed, dazed by everything that was happening inside your body. “It’s never been this powerful before. This vivid. I can still feel you, feel us.”

“I hope that answers your question then.” Loki cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t shutting you out, Y/N. I wanted to do this right. Everything between us has happened so fast, too fast. But we have time now. Time enough to take things slow, to do this right.”

“Time has done nothing but keep us apart,” you licked your lips, still able to taste him. You shook your head, determined to take the next step. “I don’t want to do this right. I just want you. Besides, you can’t plead modesty now that I’m your betrothed.”

Loki stilled, a spark of mischief to him as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Betrothed? Till today, I never knew how beautiful a word it is.”

You opened your door and tugged at his sleeve, “Stay with me.”

Loki crossed the threshold, one hand undoing the buttons of his coat. He had given you his answer.

~Loki

He had wanted to do things right, not to rush headfirst into a storm of lust and longing. But as soon as his foot was through the door, as soon as he saw that her bed looked warm and inviting, he was a slave to his desire. He had wanted this for so long, even before he met her, he just never knew how to put his feeling to words. He wanted companionship, someone to make him feel like he belonged. And in the chaos of them having known each other, Y/N had given him the one thing he’d been too proud to ask for: a home.

Loki loomed over her, enthralled with the way her heavy-lidded witch eyes were near-closed in anticipation of another kiss. He obliged, eagerly. His fingers deftly worked her corset out of its laces.

“I have wanted this for so long,” he said, fingers brushing against the soft skin of her belly as her gown fell to the floor. He rushed to lift her off the ground and bury his lips at the crook of her neck.

“I’m yours,” she whimpered, locking her ankles around his back. Her own fingers worked on his shirt. Every brush of her fingers against his chest made him shudder, his mind growing blank. He indulged himself in the taste of her skin, loving the way her body felt soft and right in his grip, rubbed flush against him.

“And, I, yours,” he devoted himself to her, with so few words. And then he pressed her into the mattress, felt the firmness of it give in to the weight of them.

Her room was dark, and with a single thought, his magic ignited the candles scattered in the room. It was an instant blaze. White, hot. For a brief second, he thought he’d set them both on fire, but it wasn’t literal, it was the intensity of their passion. He was drowning in her, and her in him.

The candlelight washed over her, making her look ethereal, imagined. Too beautiful with her plump lips, witching eyes and unfurled hair as wild as the forest. He loved how perfect she looked. He loved her. And by all the nine realms, he’d make sure she knew that with each kiss, each whispered, sweet reverence.

Her head was filled with mist, hot, sticky and in a haze. He could feel her spinning under her eyelids. He could feel what he was doing to her nerves, setting them alight, flooding them with pleasure. It wasn’t enough, he wanted to give her more.

His thumb found the mound of her breast. With such simple contact, they grew hard and tight, just like his cock. She let out a soft cry, back arching so they could stay connected. He brought his mouth to her swelling breasts, rolling her nipple between his thumb and index finger. She tangled her hands in his hair, and Loki imagined her doing so when he was buried between her thighs, tasting her, enjoying the power of her surrender.

“Let go,” he said, feeling her fight the tension building insider her. Their magic was completely linked, overpowering, and he knew she was afraid of how all-consuming their bond had become. In truth, he was too. It was a brilliant mix of hedonism and devotion. “Lose yourself to me, like I have to you.”

He pressed her hands flat on the bed as he brought his lips back to hers. She trembled beneath him, not bothered to bite back every moan. Something glorious was brewing in her belly, he trailed a kiss from her lips to the scar on her chest to her navel, admiring how their magic chose specific places to bloom. For her, it was her belly. For him, his chest. Then, gloriously, she came undone, gasping as her eyes blurred over, pupils dilated and dark. He nearly followed after her, gripping the sheets to stay grounded, present. He took a moment to steel himself as she began to remember the world around her. Yet, a part of her was still shrouded, hidden from him. A dark spot in a sea of light. Despite that, Loki had more to give her, and he was glad she wasn’t done either.

He rolled off the bed and discarded the last of his clothes. Y/N reached up for him, eyes just shy of open as she called out to him. He stirred at the sound of his name from her lips, husky.

“Say it again,” he pleaded, spreading her legs wider as he kneeled between them.

“Loki,” she barely managed to finish before her breath hitched.

His tongue was at her core, inside her. He had to keep his left hand balled tightly to keep from touching himself, from alleviating how desperately his body wanted to be joined with her. She rocked against his tongue, fingers knotting in his hair just like he’d imagined earlier. He let out a deep noise that was barely man.

She gasped, head rolling back as she struggled to keep centred, “That feels—”

Loki knew how it felt, he was certain he wouldn’t be able to fight the pleasure of this rush if he brought it on. Slowly, regretfully, he got off his knees and laid over her again. With what strength she had left, he rolled him onto his back and he let her, finding a new shock of delight at her dominance.

The pressure was immense for him now, as she straddled him, slick and ready.

“Are you sure?” he asked with the last shred of his willpower.

She sucked on her lower lip in, responding by wrapping her fingers around his cock, gasping as she guided him into her. Loki’s mind flashed bright with lightning, and he almost rushed to his release a second time. When they were connected, completely, he let her set the pace, bracing her body by the hips, using his strength to keep her shaking legs steady. From there, everything became frenzied. They found a rhythm, and Loki smiled every time she cried out his name. He enjoyed their endlessness. They were both eager, excited to tumble off the cliff together, joined, as one.

“I love you,” he said faintly as he filled her.

Then everything went brilliant. His head whipped to the side, climax sparking in his peripheral like stars. She shuddered, bracing his shoulders like a lifeline. He watched her climax again, swearing to remember this moment forever. Always.

“I love you more,” she whispered back.

Sometime in the night, Loki heard Y/N stir and get out of bed. He spread out over the bed, body seeking her heat. His body and mind were both spent, too spent to even open his eyes. Time moved both fast and slow, and, eventually, he sensed her return to him, curled under his arm, and he felt complete again.

To be continued...

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crownjimin · 4 years ago

Text

✰ 099 | no takesies backsies

la vie en rose ━ in which lee aera, a girl who has been crushing on choi soobin for a long, long time, is starting her junior year and her friends decide that its time for her to make her move.

( masterlist | prev | next )

A/N: whoop! one more update + the epilogue and we’re donezo!!

“I can’t believe it’s really red—,” He flipped and shuffled his hands through her hair as he said this.

“So bright, so pretty,” Soobin muttered to himself, going as far as to bend down and push his nose into her scalp, taking a long, dramatic sniff. “Oh, it doesn’t smell like strawberries.”

Aera laughed at this, shoving her not-boyfriend away from her softly. “Of course not. That’s like me saying your hair should smell like chocolates.”

Soobin had recently dyed his hair back to brown--well, dark brown, and as much as it made Aera sad to see the purple gone from his hair, it was well past due. His roots had grown out terribly, meaning that he was either going to have to redo his roots or retreat back to his natural brown. Also, the purple was less purple and more of a faded ash gray, from all the washing Soobin did to his hair.

For a while, he was set on just letting his hair grow out, then cutting it at the brown once the ash gray was to the tips of his hair but Aera told him he would look crazy. They debated about it for a few days, but one day Aera showed up at his house with a kit with brown hair dye and a few hours later his chocolate brown locks were back.

“Well, if you used strawberry shampoo it would smell like strawberries.”

“I will when you use chocolate shampoo.”

Soobin pouted. “I bet Ariel’s hair smells like strawberries.”

“Go sniff her head then,” the red-head quipped. “And I actually highly doubt that is true. She lives in the ocean, you know. The place where fish pee--that ocean.”

“Is there another ocean that I should be thinking of?”

“Yeah,” There was a teasing lilt in Aera’s voice. “The one I’m going to toss you in if you keep sassing me.”

The two were currently sitting in Soobin’s living room on Saturday morning, Soobin having asked Aera on Friday night if she wanted to spend the next day with him. Of course, without hesitation, Aera agreed, telling him that she would be there by ten, and now they were there.

Soobin had suggested watching YouTube in his living room until his mom got home from the gym, and Aera found no issue with the idea. During the past hour and a half, they had watched way too many Girls’ Generation music videos, and even attempted to learn the choreography to Catch Me If You Can. After forty minutes of them attempting to get past the first verse, they called it quits. Soobin claimed that he was too talented in girl group choreography to continue and further embarrass Aera with her lackluster movements.

But if you asked Aera, Soobin just didn’t want to have a dance battle, because he knew he was going to lose.

At noon, Ruha walked through the front door, her arms loaded with three market bags, filled to the brim with groceries.

“Soobin-ah,” Ruha yelled, a little too loud since she hadn’t realized he was right there in the living room. “Come help me with my bags!”

Both Soobin and Aera rushed to help Ruha, the older woman being slightly startled by Aera being there but she quickly perked up and said, “Oh good, Ae Ae is here. More hands to help!”

Everything felt so natural with Soobin and his family. Aera had spent a lot of time at his house since the picnic, and his parents seemed to love her. Soobin’s dad was obsessed when he saw how small Aera was, often leaning his elbow on her head whenever he stood beside her as a way to ridicule and tease her about her height. Then when she turned up with red hair, he almost had a better reaction than Soobin, dubbing her Strawberry Shortcake and hasn’t stopped calling her that since.

Aera had also gotten Soobin’s parents’ phone numbers, Ruha often texting Aera at random times throughout the day whenever Soobin talked about her.

ruha-ssi

he said you brought him lunch to school today. says that he loves how much you care about him

i’m sure he cares about me way more than i do him

ruha-ssi

does he show it well?

that he cares for you.

wouldnt ask for him to treat me any better than he already

does ruha-ssi.

Or the time Ruha told her that Soobin was sleep talking and had muttered her name.

ruha-ssi

he’s napping.

[picture attached]

ruha-ssi

he just grumbled your name and had the biggest smile

aw that’s so cute

ruha-ssi

i know :)))

Soobin was aware that Aera had his mother’s number, but he didn’t know that his mother was revealing just how lovestruck he was. Aera didn’t plan on mentioning it to him either, thinking that Ruha is godsent for giving her so much dirt and content to tease Soobin with whenever he decided to get too sassy with her.

Plus, Soobin has had Dongmin’s phone number much longer than Aera has had Ruha’s, and she is one-thousand percent positive that her mother lived to embarrass her, so Soobin for sure had some dirt on her.

It’s a win-win situation, all is fair in love and war.

“So, Soobin-ah,” Ruha spoke as she walked into the kitchen. “What time do you want to head out?”

Aera was busy placing things where they belonged from the market bags (yes, she knows where their groceries belonged—she’s been over there that much), but she raised an eyebrow at Ruha’s question.

“Head out where?” she asked.

“Soobin wanted to take you to an early dinner today,” Ruha paused, with a nervous expression on her face. “I-I don’t know if it was supposed to be a surprise or not-”

“No, mom, it’s fine,” Soobin waved it off. “It wasn’t really a surprise, I was gonna mention it to you later, Pouts.”

Aera walked out of the pantry, an excited glint in her eyes. “Will there be steak at this dinner?”

“Do you want there to be steak?”

“Yes.”

“Then there will be steak.”

━━━━━━━

The restaurant Soobin had chosen was very dark, Aera noted. The only light that was supplied was from a single candle lit in the center of the table, which left everything as shadows and tinted orange.

It seemed super expensive, and once Aera picked up the menu, her suspicions were confirmed.

“Soobi,” her voice seemed hesitant. “How are you affording any of this?”

She should’ve realized that the meal was going to be an expensive one when Ruha had offered Aera one of her old dresses, seeing as Aera had came over to their house in a pair of ripped jeans and a tattered t-shirt. The dress Ruha lent her was a dark blue, high-necked dress, where the waist tapered in and then flowed out to mid-thigh. Luckily, Aera had worn black flats that day, those being the shoes closest to her front door when she left for Soobin’s house.

Soobin was dressed in a simple button up and black slacks. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the top button of his shirt was undone—if Aera hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought Soobin was a young adult that worked a nine-to-five office job and not a sixteen year old boy taking his not-girlfriend out for an early dinner.

Everything was fancy, and the two of them were tucked into a corner booth where once they sat down the hostess had wished ‘Mister and Missus Choi’ a nice evening.

“Months of allowance that I’ve saved up,” Soobin lifted his gaze from the menu and once he saw how worried Aera was, he rushed to reassure her. “Plus, I work a summer job! Don’t worry, Pouts, I promise it’s not too much.”

“You don’t have to spend your allowance on me, Soobi,” she spoke softly. “You should spend it on something you really want-something to make you happy.”

“Seeing you happy makes me happy.”

Aera blushed. “Don’t try to flatter me into running your pockets dry.”

“Ae Ae, seriously,” Soobin put down his menu and reached his hands across the table to touch her hands, which laid on the table. He tugged her index fingers once, attempting to soothe her and get her to not worry. “It’s fine. If it makes you feel better we can just split something, so that way I won’t have to spend much.”

The crease in her eyebrows gradually faded and she nodded in agreement. “Are you okay with splitting a steak?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Just order whatever, I’ll eat anything.”

Aera looked over the menu, her eyes skipping over the more expensive items but honestly the cheapest things were the hor d'oeuvres and even those weren’t cheaper than 74,000 won.

“How about I choose one, you choose one, then we pick something together?” she suggested. “That way we can both enjoy something.”

By the time the waiter came to the table, they had decided on their personal picks and their combined choice, and once the food came to the table, Aera knew it was more than enough. The steak she had chosen ended up being as big as her face and had the both of them gasping in surprise once it was set on the table. Soobin decided on a rose pasta, in a dish large enough that it could feed a family of five. And their combined choice was a large platter of American-style french fries, but the way the menu phrased it made it seem like they were ordering a fancy potato.

Soobin offered to have the kitchen take it back, but Aera refused to give back french fries--she’d be crazy to ever turn down french fries (plus it came with a gravy boat filled with a white sauce that Aera could literally guzzle down in one go, so she was more than happy to keep it).

The moment the waiter told them to enjoy, Aera was shoving her fork into the steak, which was thankfully pre-cut, and the second she bit into it, juice ran down her chin and she had to squeeze every muscle in her throat to not let out a moan.

Soobin noticed her expression, the way her eyes fell close and she paused mid-bite. “Is it good, Pouts?”

“Tho goof,” she attempted to speak around her bite but she just gave up and nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s so juicy,” she said once she swallowed.

When they were ordering, she wanted to get the steak cooked well-done, but Soobin had told her to get it medium preaching something about it being more tender and juicer as if he knew everything and anything about steak. Aera argued and said she didn’t want to cut into her steak and hear it mooing back at her, and Soobin chuckled but promised if it was too raw for her when it came out, they could just send it back and she obliged.

She most definitely was not sending back this beautiful piece of heaven, and shoved another piece into her mouth. The scene from Ratatouille when the rat fused together strawberry and cheese and had color swirling around his head played inside Aera’s head the second she took another bite of the steak. Her eyes were closed, her head lolled from side to side as she swayed euphorically to the warmth of the steak and the flavor on her tongue.

Once she noticed what she was doing, she sat up stark straight and opened her eyes, watching as Soobin recorded her and laughed silently at her actions.

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself alot there,” Soobin ended the recording and set his phone on the table.

“Delete that.”

“I won’t. Here,” Soobin held out his fork where some of his pasta was twirled on the end. “Try it.”

Aera opened her mouth, letting him guide the fork inside and once she closed her mouth around the fork, the Ratatouille scene played again. She pulled away from the fork, her hand shooting over her mouth as she chewed and her eyes shot wide.

“Good?” Soobin asked, stabbing his fork in a piece of steak and eating it, much less dramatically than Aera had.

“Is amayshin,” Aera muttered. “Why ish ev-wee-shing hwere sho amayshin?”

Soobin swallowed and laughed. “It better be with these ridiculous prices.”

“Oh, yeah,” she nodded and swallowed her bite. “It’s so worth it.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m glad I like you,” Aera giggled, shoving some fries into her mouth. “You buy me expensive steak.”

“Only because of the steak?”

She nonchalantly shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Soobin faked a scoff, halfway knowing she was joking, but once he watched her pick up another piece of steak, and then kiss it before she ate it, he wasn’t so sure if she was joking anymore.

━━━━━━━━━

Thirty-five minutes and an entire steak later, Aera and Soobin were slouched over, bellies full, with their plates cleared.

“I am going to sleep so well tonight,” Aera grumbled as she rubbed her stomach. “This was so amazing.”

The waiter came to give the receipt and return Soobin’s card, wishing ‘Mister and Missus Choi’ a good night, and left them to their vices. Aera chuckled at being called Missus Choi, because did she look old enough to be married?

Did married people dye their hair red? She didn’t know but did she look married? Did her and Soobin resemble a married couple? Oh god, that just fueled her fantasy of marrying Soobin and she knew that she would never let this go.

“Alright,” Soobin groaned, shoving the receipt and card into his pocket as he stood and rounded the table, reaching his hand out to help Aera up from her chair. “You okay?”

Aera blew out a breath. “I’m stuffed.”

They both stood in place, Aera swaying a bit from standing up too quickly and Soobin attempted to stabilize her by setting a hand on her waist. “Careful.”

“I’m fine,” she tapped his hand on her waist. “I’m okay, just stood up a little too fast. Let’s go.”

They walked out of the restaurant hand-in-hand, Soobin somewhat leading Aera as she momentarily closed her eyes as a way to wheeze out air around her full belly. This was the best meal she has had in entire life, one that she never imagined having unless she was filthy rich and drank gold for breakfast, lunch, and dinner but here Soobin was taking her on a date just because he wanted to see her happy.

When they made it outside, Aera tugged his hand, causing him to stop and turn to her. She eased her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder as she softly hugged him. He returned the gesture immediately, cuddling his head on top of hers and they just existed in the moment, in each other’s arms.

“Thank you for this, Soobin,” Aera squeezed him tightly, nuzzling her head further into his shoulder. “You made me really happy by doing this—you make me happy always.”

“I’m happy to make you happy,” Soobin chuckled, pulling away from the hug. “But the night isn’t over, we have one more stop!”

“Is it far?”

Soobin nodded. “My mom is going to take us there. She’s on her way here now.”

“Where is it?”

“The beach.”

“The beach?”

Soobin nodded again. “The beach.”

“The beach,” Aera said flatly. “I like the beach.”

“That’s why we’re going.”

“Hm,” Aera sighed happily. “The beach.”

━━━━━━━━━━

Upon their arrival, Aera realized that when Soobin said the beach, he actually meant the boat dock by the beach. Well more like the yacht dock by the beach, because as they made their way to the end of the dock, they passed massive yachts, the type that only rich people could afford. Ones with balconies and two-stories that have some corny name etched onto the side that were either named after an important woman in their life or something like Old Betsy.

“What are we doing on a dock,” Aera giggled, swinging her and Soobin’s hands where they were connected. “I’m almost positive we aren’t supposed to be here.”

Soobin laughed as they came to stop in front of one of the smaller yachts, which wasn’t exactly small (but in comparison to the other yachts it was more compact), where a man was waiting for them.

“Choi Soobin?”

“Yes sir,” Soobin nodded, then gestured behind him. “And this is my mother, Ruha.”

The man extended his hand to Ruha, giving it a firm shake. “Yes, we spoke on the phone. Everything is set, if you guys want to climb on in, we’ll head out in about ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” Ruha said as the man helped her onto the yacht by her hand.

The man then lent his hand to Aera, but instead of grabbing it, she took a step back, a conflicted look on her face.

“Wait,” Soobin placed his free hand on Aera’s wasit, causing her to look up at him. “You aren’t afraid of water, right? Boats or anything? Because I was just trying to surprise you, that’s why I didn’t as-”

“No, no,” Aera shook her head. “That’s not it, but Soobin how much was this?”

Soobin raised an eyebrow at the question, confused as to why she was asking this. “What?”

“It’s just—” she sighed. “You’re spending a lot of money today, and I don’t want you to think you have to blow a bunch of money just to make me happy. You could’ve just given me a bottle of water and I’d be happy that it came from you, so I don’t get why you are taking me to all these expensive places and things.”

“I just want to spoil you,” he softly replied. “Even if it’s just for a day. I want you to have some of the best experiences with me, so I don’t mind spending a lot of money on you.”

“But, Soob-”

“And plus,” Soobin smiled wide. “My friends chipped in to help, they wanted to make us both happy so they offered to help. You don’t have to pay them back, I don’t have to pay them back, they were just doing it out of the goodness of their hearts. Me as well.”

Aera stood there frozen.

“I just want you to be happy.”

“But I’m already happy with you.”

Soobin leaned down to rest his forehead on Aera’s. “Yes, but you’d be even more happy on the boat, so let’s go!”

Aera laughed as she reached out for the man’s hand, him having stood there and watched that whole sappy ordeal, and he pulled her into the boat. Soobin followed and guided Aera to the very front of the yacht, where Ruha sat with a blanket over her legs.

“Choi Soobin, this will be the last time you spend a shit ton of money on me, do you understand?” Aera scolded, her finger pointed at Soobin but a smile was on her face.

“Yes, ma’am, never again,” Soobin spoke jokingly, totally not meaning a word of what he just said.

“You’re not going to listen to me are you?”

“Nope.”

The yacht got moving a few moments later, things feeling a bit shaky for a few minutes, but Aera acclimated to it quite fast. She and Soobin had taken to roleplaying the scene from Titanic that nearly everyone does when they are at the frontmost point on a boat.

Soobin held her waist as Aera held her arms out to her side, feeling the wind whip on her face and the smell of salt infiltrate her nose.

“The ocean is kind of stinky,” her nose scrunched up as she said this. “Smells like raw fish and high cholesterol.”

Soobin cackled, tightly wrapping his arms around Aera’s waist as he pulled her into his chest, her back to her front. “You ruined such a good moment.”

She giggled, placing her hands over his arms and squeezed. “I was just telling the truth.”

“Kids!” Ruha called out. “Come sit down for a few minutes, you’re making me nervous by the ledge.”

They obliged, walking to sit across from Ruha and they talked amongst themselves for a few minutes, playing a few rounds of rock paper scissors to pass the time.

“So are we just going to cruise around the ocean for a few hours or what?” Aera asked, peering over the side of the boat to look down into the water. “Because no offense to the ocean or anything, but this is a bit boring.”

Soobin pulled out his phone, checking the time before he answered, “Actually, no. Just seven minutes until what we came here for happens.”

Aera looked intrigued now, “Oh, is it fireworks? Are we looking at fireworks?”

“I don’t think lighting explosives on a yacht would be smart.”

“A yacht,” Aera chuckled. “Never thought I’d see one of these in my entire lifetime.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

“I’m glad my first time was with you,” she softly spoke, her voice almost a whisper.

“Me too,” Soobin smiled. “We’ll have many firsts together, hopefully.”

“Hopefully.”

At the moment, they were sitting side-by-side with their waist turned to face one another, but Soobin pointed behind Aera as he muttered, “Look.”

Aera turned her body around, to face the ocean, a gasp leaving her mouth as she absorbed the breathtaking scene in front of her. She watched as the sun burned a hypnotizing orange and pink hue, reflecting on the ocean’s surface. Slowly, the orb lowered to meet the horizon line, kissing it softly as the glares glittered across the rippling water.

She had seen nothing like this, ever. Mother nature and the Earth’s natural occurrences never appealed to Aera, they were never something she found interesting or attention-catching, but this—this was so worth it.

Her awestruck trance was broken when Soobin rested his chin on her shoulder, whispering, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s-I-” Aera searched for the right words but there were none that could accurately describe exactly what she was witnessing. It made her speechless, her jaw going slack as she once again watched the sun move lower and lower.

They sat in silence, taking in the scenic view before them. Ruha sat opposite of them, snapping pictures of the sunset as she oh’ed and aw’ed at the scene.

“Pouts,” Soobin muttered into her ear, keeping his voice low so as to not ruin the moment. “I, uh-”

“Hm, Soobi?”

“Please, be my girlfriend.”

All of Aera’s breath left her body, all of her blood seemed to run cold. Was she hallucinating? Was she hearing things?

“Huh-” Oh god, she sounded so stupid. Who responds to the boy of their dreams asking them to be their girlfriend with ‘huh’.

“I-” Soobin sat up straighter, Aera being able to feel so behind her. “I really like you-no, love you, and I want to be with you. Officially. For a very long time.”

Aera eased her way around, turning to face Soobin who looked like he was going to pass out any second if she didn’t give him an answer within the next millisecond. So she carefully raised her hands to his cheeks, cupping his face softly.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Choi Soobin,” she breathed. “I’d kind of be an asshole if I said no after all of this, am I right?”

Soobin held onto her wrists. “I hope that isn’t the sole reason you are saying yes.”

“Lucky for you, it is not. It’s probably one of the lower list reasons.”

“There’s a list?”

She giggled. “There has always been a list.”

The sound of her giggle seemed to have him smitten, his eyes zoning in on her lips which caused her heart to skip a beat. She wasn’t dumb, she knew what he was thinking of, what his eyes were asking for, and for some reason, she had no qualms about complying.

Her first kiss was always something Aera fretted about, thinking about how awful it was going to be, how she was going to mess everything up. But for some reason, right here, right now, with Soobin, she knew for a fact it was going to be amazing. This is maybe the first and only decision Aera didn’t hesitate to make, and so she leaned in.

The touch of their lips was soft. Simple. A measly, quick peck.

When they pulled back, both of their cheeks were colored rose, a look of fondness between the two of them and Aera leaned in to kiss the the corner of Soobin’s mouth before pulling away and dropping her hands from his face.

“No takesies backsies, Choi Soobin.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Lee Aera.”

#choi beomgyu #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #hueningkai #kang taehyun #kpop #choi soobin x female oc #social media au #txt #txt social media au

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degrassi-fanatic · 4 years ago

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His Proxy

Warmth seeps through the flimsy paper of the coffee cup he is holding in his hands. It does little to keep away the cold. If Rossi were alone, he would be nursing his drink inside the actual coffeeshop, instead of sitting in the icy outdoors chair just outside of the establishment, in the middle of winter. But, he’s not. He’s with Reid and he knows that there are far too many things in the shop that would make Reid uncomfortable; the amount of people, the close proximity of the seats, the numerous twinkling lights, and not to mention the recycled air that’s sure to have Reid going off on a tangent about proper air ventilation.

Which is why Rossi is freezing his ass off on a plastic chair, with Reid doing the same on the other side of the tiny table between them. The two of them going out for coffee is not a rare occurrence but, for some reason today feels different. Perhaps it’s because Reid’s own cup is sitting on the edge of the table, full to the brim and far from his reach; usually Reid can chug scalding coffee and be ready for his third cup while Rossi is still on his first. Or maybe, it’s because Reid has been shuffling a couple of papers, smoothing out creases that aren’t there.

As Rossi sets the cup down on the table, he lets out a long sigh that has Reid finally looking up from his hands.

“Okay, I guess I’ll have to say something first,” Rossi says, more to himself than to Reid, “What are those papers you’ve got there?”

Reid’s fidgeting fingers come to a halt. Then, instead of giving him a verbal response, he simply hands over the small stack of papers without meeting his eyes.

For a moment, Rossi is puzzled as he rakes his eyes over the contents of the first page. Then, he realizes what exactly he is looking at.

These are forms for the appointment of a new proxy, a new health care agent. The box listed for the name of the primary individual has already been filled in with a messy looking ‘Spencer Reid’. Not too far below it, the box for the name of the health care agent has been filled in with the same chicken scratch drawl from before, spelling out ‘David Rossi’.

“When I joined the FBI, I realized that I needed to update my medical information, in case something happened to me.” Reid begins to explain as he stares at the documents in Rossi’s hands, “It was a no-brainer when it came to who I wanted to make my medical decisions for me, when I couldn’t. My mother is indisposed. My father isn’t… But, Gideon was there.

“Until he wasn’t.” he adds on.

“Gideon was your health care agent.” Rossi confirms.

Nodding, Reid shifts around until he can shove his hands underneath his thighs; something he always did to ground himself.

“Even after he left, I never really bothered to change it; I guess I always thought if I was hurt, he would come running.” he admits, “Then, three weeks ago, I was...”

He doesn’t need to say anymore because Rossi remembers what happened three weeks ago in vivid detail. He’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to forget it; the sight of a beaten and bruised Reid laying against cold pavement as Rossi desperately called for EMS, the sound of the painfully silent waiting room, the lingering smell of blood being taken over by the scent of disinfectant as he walked into the hospital room.

“I was dying,” Reid manages to continue, “And the hospital was calling Gideon, except his number wouldn’t go through and I knew that—”

His words are cut off as he turns his head to look up and away, in an attempt to prevent the tears from spilling down his face.

“I knew that Gideon wasn’t going to come, that he was never going to come.”

“Spencer…” Rossi murmurs softly as he sets down the papers in his hand.

Using the back of his sleeve, Reid dabs at the corners of his eyes, wiping away the tears as he lets out a sniffle.

“I just need someone I can trust to be there for me.”

“Why me, though?” he asks, “Why not Hotch or JJ? Even Prentiss or Morgan? Garcia?”

“Oh.” Reid lets out.

If the heartbroken expression on Reid’s face is anything to go by, Rossi must’ve asked the wrong question. Within a second, Reid leans over the table and picks up the papers.

“You’re right.” he continues as he stands up to pack away his belongings into his bag, “I should probably just ask the others. I don’t even know why I thought you would want to—”

Before he can get up and run away, Rossi lays a gentle hand against his wrist. It’s enough to get Reid to stop.

“Spencer,” Rossi says, “The answer is yes.”

“Oh.” Reid lets out again, looking dumbfounded.

Without anything else to say, he simply slumps back down into his seat. His bag hitting the ground with a thud. His coffee rippling as he accidentally knocks his leg against the edge of the table.

“I just want to know why you would ask me to make decisions on your behalf if you’re, God-forbid, out of commission.”

A contemplative silence washes over Reid as he takes a minute to think about why he would want David Rossi, commitment issues extraordinaire, to be in charge of his body when he’s incapable of being so.

“Y’know, for the longest time, Gideon was the closest thing I had to a father.” he starts off as he fiddles with the tassels at the end of the scarf wrapped around his neck, “Then, he left. I know why he did but, it just hurt; to know that all of those years were worth nothing when push came to shove.”

An overwhelming sense of dread begins to build inside of Rossi. His hands ball up into fists, where they rest against the tops of his thighs.

If Reid is only asking him to be his health care agent out of some sort of strange transference because he misses Jason, Rossi won’t sign off on those papers.

He cannot bear the thought of only being Gideon’s replacement in Reid’s eyes.

“Listen Reid, if I’m just your second option—”

“No!” he exclaims before flushing when he realizes how loud he was, “Look, I’ve come to realize that though I considered Gideon my father, he didn’t consider me his son. He already had one. He was my mentor and a friend but, what we had wasn’t what a father-son relationship was supposed to be.

“But, you, Rossi?” Reid asks, “You helped me pick out my suit for my date. You brought me, Henry, and Jack out fishing that one weekend. You took Prentiss and I out on Father’s Day, and don’t even try and tell me you didn’t know what day it was.”

Rossi swallows down the sudden lump in his throat.

When James had passed away and Carolyn and him had filed for divorce, Rossi vowed to himself to never have any children. The pain of losing a baby that had only lived for a total of three days was enough to do him over; he cannot imagine the pain of losing a five year old, a fifteen year old, a twenty five year old.

As Reid lays everything he’s done before him in a neatly strung together set of words, Rossi realizes just how terribly he kept his promise.

“I didn’t raise you, Spencer.” Rossi says, his voice coming out hoarse and watery at the same time, “But, I wish I had.”

All Reid can do is stare up at him and if this is the look he gives to those he loves, Rossi cannot understand how William Reid walked away from it, how he walked out on his son.

Rossi can’t talk much, though. He’s walked out on his fair share of people.

Spencer won’t be one of them, though. Nor, will Emily. Not even Jack or Henry. No, for once, David Rossi is here to stay.

“I don’t think you would’ve liked me when I was young.” Reid jokes, in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

Rossi lets out a chuckle.

“Who says I like you now?” he teases back as he brings the rim of his now lukewarm cup of coffee to his lips.

#criminal minds #david rossi #spencer reid #~fic~

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kitchenkingblog · 4 years ago

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Blender Reviews

Blender Buying GuideTop Blenders Online – Blender Reviews

Health has become the watchword of contemporary society but glowing complexions don’t usually come through diets of buttered haute cuisine. Most ‘wholesome’ tastes can be rescued with the aid of a blender, a dash of carob and a tablespoon of nut butter. If Mary Poppins were alive today, she’d have suggested a spoon full of cocoa and a high speed blender to make the medicine go down. Similarly, gastronomers and mixologists can achieve little without the ability to perform magic with snow ice and chilled gazpacho. Whether your primary source of nourishment comes from super foods, strawberry daiquiris or pommes puree, you will need to become acquainted with the technicalities of the best blender features for your needs.

Contents

Blender Buying Guide 1

-1) Name your position 1

-2) Creative cuisine or mashed potatoes? 2

-3) Dinner for two or twenty? 2

Top Blenders Online – Blender Reviews 2

Ninja Kitchen System 1100 – Mysticism Meets Versatility- You’ll Be Glad You Got Your Own! 2

Ninja Master Prep Professional Blender Review – Combines Power And Efficiency For Maximum Results 4

Ninja BL610 Professional 72 Oz Countertop Blender – An Aide In The Kitchen – Affordable Help At Your Fingertips 6

Ninja BL660 Professional Countertop Blender– Reliable, Durable, And Efficient 7

NutriBullet N12-1001 Pro Plus 10 pc-At Its Best – You Just Have To Get One! 8

-1) Name your position

If pureed spinach is your idea of a taste adventure, you don’t need potent horsepower and muscular motors. Those focused on improving their cocktail intake demand high speed blenders with ice crushing action. Blenders that can puree, grind and crush food into velvety submission without generating too much heat are a behind-the-bar necessity: They make quick work of icy drinks without melting them into a diluted mess. Foodies require pulse settings which redistribute pesto ingredients beneath the blades for smoother results.

Most blenders come with bells and whistles that take focus away from features that are of genuine benefit: A vast array of speed settings is less important than wattage and torque. An all purpose product has an output horsepower of three or more. A wattage of 1500 will fulfill the cuisine fantasies of the most demanding chef, whilst your simple smoothie aficionado will be satisfied with a more affordable model with two speed settings.

-2) Creative cuisine or mashed potatoes?

Amateur cooks looking for a convenient way to stir, emulsify and froth often prefer wand blenders with low torque. Stick blenders take power from their users, so they needn’t have the wattage to circulate ingredients through the blades. Motor power of 500 watts is sufficient . Thrifty cooks can save pennies by choosing 100 watt stick blenders. Cordless options are lighter, and protective blades keep our fingers relatively safe from harm.

Those who know the difference between crudités and mignardise need blenders that give them intuitive power over speed to produce diverse, exotic blends. Supreme versatility comes from speeds that are not automatically programmed. Instead, they can be adjusted creatively to achieve varying textures and tastes. Pedantic chefs need blenders that can perform multiple functions without stopping to change between manual and automatic action. Seamless setting changes prevent melting that can ruin the texture of ice cream.

-3) Dinner for two or twenty?

Even nonchalant cooks become pernickety when they need to blend their soup in three phases, which makes container capacity a core concern for most. A four cup container will only tolerate half its capacity to make room for spatter. Family blenders need between 40 and 60 ounces with tight seals and an escape hatch for steam. Plastic jars are less durable and hygienic than glass. New high tech BPA free containers are fabricated to prevent wear and shattering. Consumers with common sense expect their containers to have easy-pore spouts but this is not a feature to take for granted. The best blender review sites will point you to blenders that pore without dripping. A large container does not automatically translate as having a large capacity. Commercial users need two liter blenders that can be filled to the brim.

The best blender review sites present the intricacies of accessories, safety features and long term performance that will transform you into a kitchen legend in no time.

Ninja Kitchen System 1100 – Mysticism Meets Versatility- You’ll Be Glad You Got Your Own!

I love kitchen gadgets and I own quite a few. What strikes me with all of them is that they each bring something new and helpful to the table. Now what that means is that a device-whatever it is, will help simplify my life in the kitchen and make cooking for my family that much easier. The Ninja Kitchen System 1100 is so versatile and helpful that I am amazed each time I use it. I love the fact that something so compact can do so much and still look stylish while doing it. This kitchen system is small enough that it can comfortably fit on your counter or go on the road with you, all without skipping a beat.

List Price: $199.99 Special Deals You save: (31%) Availability: In Stock’

Features

• Blend recipe ingredients and juice your favorite fruits and vegetables

• Chop vegetables and fruits for all types of recipes

• Mix the components for your cocktails

�� Create scrumptious drinks for family and friends

• Make creamy soups and everyone’s favorite- ice cream

• This kitchen system even comes with the attachments to make dough’s and batters so you can even tinkle with your pizza and cake recipes if you want to

• The base is no slip so you don’t have to worry about the device slipping or moving while you are using it

• The parts are dishwasher safe so easy clean-up is all but guaranteed

• A powerful 1100 watt motor means that no matter the task you set this system to you can be assured that it has the power to do the job and do it well •

Who is it best for?

The Ninja Kitchen System is for any and all proficiency of cooks. From the beginners to the more advanced chefs-everyone can find a recipe or recipes that they can use the system to help them execute. What this can also mean is that you and your family get to spend more time together as well. The time that would have been spent doing some of the tasks that the system can do for you can now be spent with your family. Of course the system can also be used as a teaching aid in small to medium cooking classes. New moms may find this system especially helpful as it allows you to create fresh, from scratch baby food for your little one as well as fresh juices for them. For those on dietary constraints, don’t feel left out. This system allows you to create and prepare recipes that taste great and help keep you healthy.

As with all things there are the aspects that we will like and those that we won’t. The best thing about this system is the fact that it does so many things and can free up so much of your time. The one thing I would say I wish were different is the fact that I can’t customize its appearance to suit whatever décor I have in my kitchen.

Final Verdict

I would tell anyone to buy this system for one simple reason. It does the job so well you’ll wonder why you didn’t get one before. It’s well-built so you won’t have any out of the blue problems to deal with and it’s powerful. You need to get one of your own. The time and energy that this system will save you, will more than make up for its cost at the onset and once you have it in your kitchen you’ll be glad you took my advice.

Ninja Master Prep Professional Blender Review – Combines Power And Efficiency For Maximum Results

If you spend a lot of time in the kitchen, you know how much of it you spend chopping, dicing, and blending. Even if you don’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen you may have the occasional guest over or feel like trying a new recipe, or even creating a nice refreshing margarita, or perhaps a health smoothie. The Ninja sports a unique blade system so that you spend a lot less time trying to get foods chopped and blended, and more time enjoying the fruits of your labor.

The Ninja Master Prep Professional Blender has an updated sleek look which will fit in with any type of kitchen decor, or stow away easily into a cupboard to free up counter space. Ninja products are easy to disassemble, clean, and stow. Pieces (besides the motor of course) are dishwasher safe which saves even more time in the kitchen.

Guide Review – Ninja Master Prep Professional Blender

Rating:220 Reviews

Availability:Usually ships in 24 hours

Free Shipping:Eligible

List Price:$99.99

Sale Price:$63.68

Feature:Ninja new & improved blender Includes 2 Extra prep bowls

Feature:Crush ice into snow in seconds

Feature:Blend frozen fruits into creamy smoothies

Feature:Chop fresh ingredients evenly - no more mush

Feature:New more powerful & 2X faster

Main Feature List

• Large main canister for beverages and blending

• Two smaller canisters for chopping

• Canisters double as storage

• Able to chop ice

• Pulse action prevents pureeing

• Updated design

• Unique motor design allows easy switching between chopping tasks

Who is it for?

This great blender is ideal for either the cooking novice or expert looking for an easy solution to arduous chopping tasks. Onions, peppers, carrots, avocado, nuts, and ice can all be easily chopped with this machine. Instructions are relatively simple and the system ensures that the blades won’t start moving until the motor is fitted properly into the blender. Those concerned with efficiency, durability, and safety will like how well this gets the job done.

Pros and Cons

The Blender is more accurately termed a chopper. It can create drinks like margaritas, and chop up ice for smoothies, but is not what many would think of when considering a traditional blender. The Ninja is a lot more effective at chopping ingredients than a normal blender is, due to the different blade system. When the directions are followed to pulse, the food is chopped to the desired consistency. If you want the chunks smaller, you pulse a bit more. Very simple to use and even more so to clean. You may need to cut larger foods into segments that can fit into the unit, which is the same as a regular blender, and you may want to occasionally move the contents around to ensure that you get uniform pieces.

Why you should buy it?

The easy chopping action of this system makes things so effortless. There is no need to waste food that turns into a puree when you want it chopped instead. The dual blades, one towards the top and the other towards the bottom, ensure that the chopping is evenly distributed. Easy to store, durable, safe, and a huge time saver. For the most part any food that you would normally chop by hand can be chopped by this product. Cut into sections that will fit into the canister and the rest is done in a matter of seconds.

Ninja Master Prep Professional Blender – Final Verdict

Overall, if you are looking for something to help you chop in the kitchen or you want to try creating your health smoothies or margaritas this is definitely worth a try. The blade system is so much more efficient than other traditional blending systems. The Ninja Master Prep Professional Blending system allows you to prepare ingredients for meals in a fraction of the time it may have before. One meal that involves chopping celery, peppers, onions, and carrots may normally take quite a long time, but with this system you can just set up multiple containers then pulse the contents with the motor for a few seconds till you’re happy with the results and move onto the next container. Minimal work for results that look like you spent a long time with the prep work. With the easy cleanup, this is a great kitchen solution.

Ninja BL610 Professional 72 Oz Countertop Blender – An Aide In The Kitchen – Affordable Help At Your Fingertips

Once you work in the kitchen you are going to need the help of devices that can simplify your job- whatever it may be at that point in time. The Ninja BL610 Professional 72 Oz Countertop Blender t Immersion Hand Blender is such a device. This hand blender does it all- froths, whisks, whips, mixes, chops grinds and blends with so little change of motion that it just may shock you. As the name suggests, this immersion hand blender gives you the option of simply combining all of your recipe components together or doing something more.

Features

When you check the market for kitchen appliances you will see that there are tons of devices on the market that claim to be simple to use and that can be used in so many different ways and yet for some reason or the other they just don’t. You as the consumer need to at least have an idea of what you want, need and can afford before you go shopping and make a choice.

• Six attachments- 4 blades that perform a myriad of functions as well as a whisk and big chopping attachment.

• A powerful base- with 550 watts of power you can be sure that this hand blender will be able to perform whatever tasks you want it to.

• Style- with the option for you the buyer to customize the finish of this hand blender to whatever colour scheme is in your kitchen, you can be sure that you will be able to have versatility in your kitchen as well as style.

• Longevity- this device comes with a 15 month warranty (which is more than most devices of this type comes with

Who Is It For?

The Ninja BL610 Professional 72 Oz Countertop Blender r can be used by people of varying proficiency levels in the kitchen. For the kitchen klutz that is finally learning to cook and wants a simple to use tool that will help them along on their journey to the intermediate guru, those that know the basics and want to venture into more advanced recipes that will enhance their repertoire’, to the gourmet powerhouses who know just what they need in a kitchen device and will settle for nothing less. This hand blender treats with all categories and all skill levels of cooks.

Pros And Cons

As with everything else in life and by extension the kitchen, there will be pros and cons. The biggest pro of this blender is the fact that it’s so versatile. It can be used to make soups, meringues, cakes and so much more. Some might even say it’s too good to be true. The cons- I can honestly say that there don’t appear to be any. For a device of its kind it fulfills all of its design specifications.

You should buy this product if you are looking for a kitchen tool that is easy to use, or if you are looking for a kitchen tool that can fill multiple functions and not cost you anything additional. It’s a must have in today’s kitchen when you want to be able to create and execute recipes in your kitchen with a minimum of fuss.

Final Verdict

If you are anything like me then you want help in your kitchen that is no frills and no fuss and is also not expensive. If you share my point of view then this is the blender for you. Don’t just take my word for it. Do some research of your own and then you decide what will work then best for you and your kitchen.

Ninja BL660 Professional Countertop Blender– Reliable, Durable, And Efficient

Whether your want to make salsa, margaritas, or healthy smoothies, this blender can get the job done. The uses for this nifty kitchen gadget are only limited by your imagination. Cut onions without the mess and tears in a matter of seconds. Combine spinach, gouda and avocado with ease for the ultimate blend for your next grilled cheese sandwich. This blender is tough enough to shred ice for a snow cone for the kids, or chop nuts to combine with salads. The Ninja BL660 Professional Countertop Blender offers the functionality of many higher-priced models of blenders at a fraction of the cost.

Ninja has been putting out kitchen equipment for quite a few years now and designs their products with ease of use, safety, and effectiveness in mind. Anyone who is tired of spending hours chopping will be grateful for this piece of equipment.

Main Features

• Large capacity pitcher which holds 72 ounces

• Powerful 1000 watt motor

• PULSE options

• Dishwasher safe components

• Easily removable blades

• Unique 6-blade technology

• Able to crush ice

• Three speed controls

• Special storage for the cord

Who is it best for?

This great blender is perfect for anyone who wants to save time with different types of kitchen preparation, or wants to avoid spending hours in the kitchen. Onions, nuts, ice, and nearly any food can be chopped by the Ninja quickly and efficiently. The pulse option gives you the control to decide the amount of chopping necessary for whichever dish you are preparing. The Ninja NJ600 Pro Blender is easy to use, so beginners in the kitchen as well as those who have been cooking for years will be able to use this effortlessly.

Pros And Cons

The blender is able to chop a number of ingredients with ease and due to the large capacity can handle enough for the whole family or to store for use later. It does not whip ingredients, but does cut through ice and chunks for a smoothie to be sipped through a straw. If you want a thicker smoothie, just add more ice until it is the consistency you desire. Blades are extremely sharp in order to cut through tough ingredients such as ice or nuts, so there are safety features in place to try and protect the user.

This blender is consistent and durable. It handles ice which many blenders are not truly equipped to handle and therefore cannot make snow cones, margaritas or adequate smoothies, while the Ninja can. It has thoughtful safety features, which ensure that accidents won’t happen. The large capacity is perfect for making smoothies the whole family will enjoy, or for putting in the fridge for later. Great for party drinks as well. Also easy to make large batches of salsa or to create your own special salsa recipe.

Final Verdict

Overall the NJ600 Pro Blender is priced reasonably, but offers the performance of a product in a higher price range. This is primarily for chopping and blending, so you won’t end up paying for functions that you are never going to use. The manufacturer warranty is one year and the product will pay for itself very quickly in the amount of time it saves in the kitchen. Onions are an annoyance to chop at best, but by just halving the onions, or cutting into quarters and throwing them into the Ninja you can use the PULSE option to have them chopped in no time without all the tears and stinging eyes. Cleanup is a cinch which makes this a great choice for anyone’s kitchen. The fact that it can be easily disassembled for storage and cleaning make this a solid investment that will see plenty of use in the kitchen and save valuable time.

NutriBullet N12-1001 Pro Plus 10 pc,At Its Best – You Just Have To Get One!

In the course of life, there will be times when existing products on the market, just don’t get the job done and in cases like that some enterprising person makes the leap towards becoming an innovator. TheNutriBullet N12-1001 Pro Plus 10 pc Hi-Speed Blender/Mixer System is a study in innovation and this device helps you realize the innovator within you. The device is a compact 7.4 pounds- which means that it can be stored just about anywhere and with a powerful 600 watt motor you can rest assured that this device will meet and exceed you expectations as far as its ability to get the job done is concerned.

Main Features

• A 600 watt motor base

• A flat blade and emulsification blade

• Two short cups and one tall cup

• Two re-sealable lids for easy storage and mobility on the go

• A manual, pocket nutrition guide and recipes

• The ability to enhance and create new recipes for you and your family’s enjoyment

Who Is It Best For?

This blender is for everyone. It can be used by children (with adult supervision of course) to make smoothies and other frozen treats and even help in the preparation of baked goods as well as it can be used by teenagers for quick go to snacks that are low on the calorie side of things and fill the ache of hunger. Adults can use this device to make scrumptious meals that take up a fraction of the time of similar products and the young at heart can make easy healthy meals as well.

Pros And Cons

Most things in life have their own set of pros and cons. This blender is no different. One of the best things about this blender is its versatility. It can be used in any number of ways, is small enough that it takes up very little space and it boasts a very powerful motor. The only con that I can see this device as having is the fact that the cups aren’t very huge. If you are looking to make a large batch of a particular recipe then you are going to have to do it in stages, which take up more time than you may be willing to spare for the task at that time. Other than that I have a blast when I am using it and you will too.

Why should I buy it

You should buy this device if you are looking for a blender/mixer system that is easy to understand and use, is small enough to be easily portable and has one of the most powerful motors in a device of its kind. Personally, I bought this device because I hate headaches and love to have easy ways of getting a particular job done. This device has simplified my life. I can make marinades for a variety of meat selections at the drop of a hat. I can make the components for both hot and cold soups with ease. I can even make healthy and fast foods for my baby. There aren’t many devices that allow you to do so many things but this device does and that alone deserves your attention.

Final Verdict

There is no reason why you shouldn’t get this amazing blender. From the price (which is objectively set) to its size even to how much it weighs-it all comes together to ensure that you get a device that can do everything you need it to do and more. You just have to get one!

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justimajin · 5 years ago

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It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 3

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 4.6k

⇝ Summary: The goal has never been in your favor, and despite all your best efforts, you don’t think it ever will be. But that’s right when you finally get the chance to turn things around, to do things the way you’ve always wanted to and to go after what you truly love. However the problem isn’t if you can do it, it’s how much are you willing to do…?

⇝ Warnings: pg13 (please check out the disclaimer on the first part); none for this chapter

gif credit.

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard Part 1 Part 2

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, April 7th

“You have to do it like this.”

The ball repetitively thumps against the same spot on the ground, keeping a steady pace. A man with fluffy black hair stands across from it, arms crossed and expression unamused.

“I have been doing it like that.”

“No, you’ve been doing it like this.” The ball suddenly reaches a lengthened height, fluctuating in different directions compared to the stable pace before. Just as an exasperated sigh leaves the man, an individual with grey hair strolls by and stands near him, a hearty laugh spilling out from his lips as he snacks on a bag of chips in his hands.

“Jungkook imitating you again?” Jimin questions, offering Taehyung one who grabs it with a scoff and then mumbles.

“Yeah – and being a prick about it as always.”

The ball unexpectedly flies into his line of sight; Taehyung hurriedly catching on it before it greets his face and sending a glare to the person whose direction it came from. Jungkook cheekily smiles, widening his hands.

“Let’s see if your passes are still good, hm?”

Taehyung smirks, backing away from Jimin who cheers out a small ‘Go Taehyungie!’ before watching with eager eyes from the sidelines. After the ball pounds against the ground once, Taehyung steadies himself and prepares to jump.

“Hey guys!”

The ball leaves his hands too early, swirling towards Jungkook before it smacks him straight against the chin. Taehyung winces even though he hasn’t been hit, a muster of apologies ready to escape him when Jungkook picks up the fallen basketball, glaring at him and rubbing the side that’s been bruised.

“Sorry...” You apologize first, not realizing in time that Taehyung had intended to pass the ball over to Jungkook until you had interrupted.

“Don’t apologize Y/N, I think he did that on purpose.” Jungkook remarks, softly dribbling the ball with a sigh.

“I did not!” Taehyung immediately protests, but Jungkook simply rolls his eyes and continues on with his dribbling.

Taehyung sighs, reaching out again when Jimin pushes his chips closer to him. He eyes you as he munches down on it, “You want to join us for some practice?”

You nod and Jungkook passes the basketball over to you, letting you dribble for a while as he strides over to grab his water bottle.

“You’re pretty good at this Y/N.” Jimin instantly points out, noticing how you were being able to keep a proper balance without letting the ball soar to huge heights.

“Uh, thanks.” You bashfully smile, still practicing when a thought occurs in your mind, noticing that a certain set of hardened eyes were nowhere to be seen when you had entered, “The captain hasn’t come by yet?”

Taehyung pouts, “Don’t think so. He’s probably busy since we’re just starting up now.”

You hum, but the initial thought begins to stir up more curiosity from within you. Your mind wanders over to witnessing the captain’s sharp and rigorous ways, something you had honestly assumed was a myth until you had stumbled across it firsthand.

Pausing your dribbling, you hold the ball in your hands.

“The captain… what is he like?”

“Yoongi?” You nod and Taehyung continues, “Pretty much what you’ve seen so far, he’s really strict and wants us to be disciplined.”

Jimin leans closer to you, a brimming smile on his rosy cheeks as he whispers.

“Deep down though, he’s a real softie.”

You giggle at that and Jungkook jogs over to you, water bottle in his hand and a questioning look in his eyes.

“What are you guys talking about?”

Taehyung replies, “Yoongi, Y/N wanted to know what he’s like.”

Jungkook smiles and you’re a bit astonished when there’s a swell of admiration in his voice, “He’s been a really good captain to us, plus he’s one of our best players.”

All of them hum in agreement to that, causing your curious struck eyes to eagerly dart around.

“Truthfully, we’re not the best team out there and he’s won a lot of games with other teams too.” Taehyung admits and Jungkook nods, however that’s when he says something that has you even more stunned. “But even though we aren’t the best team you can come across, he chose to be our captain.”

The information is entirely foreign to you, knowing that the dynamic Bangtan shared was tight knit from just seeing their prior games – but not to the point that the captain had denied working with other teams.

“Why did he choose your team?”

“That’s the question we all want an answer to.” Jungkook simply replies, “He’s never specified why.”

You hum in acknowledgement, but then you catch sight of Jimin and he mouths ‘deep down softie’ to you which just leaves a warm smile on your lips. Although you don’t know much about the captain personally, it seems that the knowledge the handful of members have given you is actually enough.

The sound of imposing footsteps enters the room, cutting off your lingering thoughts when you and the rest pivot simultaneously. You see a mop of maroon drawing closer to your group, as if beckoning for immediate attention.

A high shrill breaks the silence in the gym, a whistle against his lips. Jungkook and Jimin leave the group in an instant, racing over to the source.

“Come on.” Taehyung reaches out for your hand, “He’s gathering all of us.”

With a nod, you sprint over and notice the sheer number of players beginning to horde around Yoongi as well. His eyes are sharp and searching, like he was taking in every single one of the members coming forward.

“Listen up all of you.” He doesn’t shout, but his voice is loud enough and similar to how he spoke to the group during the first meet, “I’m assuming those of you here now are here to stay. We’re going to play a round today for practice, but we’ll be doing try-outs tomorrow for the final team this year.”

The light-hearted daze occupying your mind abruptly drifts away, eyes wide with his words. You sink your teeth down harshly into your bottom lip, hands clenching the loose fabric of your shirt until its completely bunched up. A feathery weight rests against your shoulder, radiating with warmth.

You look up surprised to see Hoseok smiling down at you, gently squeezing his hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll do well.”

There’s a flicker of reassurance in his eyes and you nod, gratitude already sparking in yours. When Yoongi blows his whistle again, you all get into formation quickly.

The game starts and it begins with your eyes skimming all over the place, hastily trying to pick up the small key details about the members around you. To your own surprise, it isn’t as hard to figure out their style of playing as a team and oddly enough, you notice that there already quite well aware of their weaknesses, filling in the missing gaps effortlessly with their approach.

Confidence soars within you when Hoseok passes the ball over with a grin, leaving you just enough room to dribble over to the basket and score. A roar of cheers unleashes, spinning around to see Taehyung, Jungkook, Jimin and Hoseok painted with giant smiles and content faces.

Something in you truly blooms after that, hands clenched in determined fists when you know you’ll do anything to make it on this team.

***

The moment the door slams wide open, you are gasping for air.

Your backpack slumps down onto the ground, your tired limbs drag themselves reluctantly over to the bathroom and when the cool air of the dorm room engulfs your form, you let out a grateful sigh.

Although you had assumed to have many things under control so far, there’s one thing you had failed to realize:

Basketball is very similar to exercising viciously; meaning that it’s very similar to having a sheen of sweat sticking to your exhausted body, an uncomfortable coat of water underneath your clothes that leaves a wonderful scent wafting all over the place.

Meaning that it isn’t something you’d really like to have during your classes – which so happen to occur right after your basketball meets.

You want a shower so bad.

But when you trudge over to bathroom, hopes spiked up high in your eyes and form ecstatic to get this extra layer off of you, you notice something.

It’s occupied.

A groan leaves you, hand knocking against the door in misery to only be greeted to the loud pitter patter of water droplets and steam flowing out from the bottom. There’s not much you can do except for plant your head against the door in tired exasperation, eyes screwed shut when you begin to softly pound on it repeatedly.

“Don’t waste your time.” A voice mumbles from the side of the room, your head lifting in anticipation to see Jungkook seated on the ground, fingers moving rapidly against a gaming controller.

“What do you mean?”

“Taehyung takes a decade showering, he won’t be coming out any time soon.”

Your jaw drops, a lingering glance making its way to the door again when helplessness pools in your eyes. With a deep sigh, you withdraw and parade over to the couch, settling near Jungkook in a slump of defeat.

Jungkook glances over at you intrigued, still playing his game, “If you want to take a shower so badly, why don’t you just go to the gym?”

You perk up, “The gym?”

He nods, “The gym has showers too, I usually just go there if Taehyung’s using the bathroom.”

You pursue your lips at the word of advice. Surely if it was someone else, they would have taken the chance in a heartbeat and hurried their way over with a flash. However, your dilemma is entangled with bit of a… unique circumstance and you ponder on whether the word of advice could be bait for a potential mistake.

“These gym showers… “ You hesitantly begin, “Are they out in the open or…?”

“They have curtains.” Jungkook simply says, “Enough privacy to shower but I’d recommend bringing some shoes. Lord knows what’s been on the ground.”

You cringe at the thought, but continue, “The curtains aren’t see-through or anything, right?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “It’s pretty decent Y/N.” You hum but the next words slipping by his lips have you rapidly shaking your hands, “Do you want me to come with you or something?”

“No!” Your voice comes out as a shriek and Jungkook raises a brow, but you attempt to collect yourself right away, “I-I can go, it’s just new and all.”

When he nods, you exhale in relief. Warily, you pick up your backup and shrug it over your shoulder, glancing longingly at the shower that’s still occupied before turning towards the door, “Well… I guess I’ll be back soon… ”

Jungkook hums, eyes still glued onto the fast-paced game displayed on the TV when you shut the door. Whirling around, you attempt to calm down your racing heartbeat as you head out, mind still stuck in prayers that you weren’t making a horrible decision.

***

Your eyes are everywhere and anywhere, taking a jittery step forward closer to the room labeled ‘Changeroom.’ Staring at it weakly for a mere moment, your push your form against the door and hastily speed up, practically sprinting over to the showers with a hand on top of your eyes, avoiding all sights of exposed skin and any lingering voices echoing through other parts of the room.

When you make it to a shower in one piece, a heavy relieved exhale escapes you.

Timidly closing the curtain, you leave your bag on one of the hooks and backtrack for a second – inspecting if it was truly not see through as how Jungkook had said. Luckily, it seems like he was right, the material not appearing to be translucent and successfully covering all of the little details you really don’t want being seen.

Even though it’s clearly not transparent, you still remain cautious when a pile of clothes begins to pool near your feet. When your shirt meets the ground, you peer down and sigh, peeling off the excruciating makeshift bandage you’ve been using for an excuse of a garment and gladly letting it slip away into the pile.

Grasping onto all the littered pieces of clothing, you scoop them up into your arms and stuff them hurriedly into your bag, resting it back on the hook. Your hand reaches out to twist the knob, an icy cool spray of water firing out.

You attempt to lower the pressure, the fierce power of the water bouncing off of your body and nearly flooding the entire shower. It finally calms down much to your own solace; clenching your shivering teeth as the knob is spun for a much warmer, contrasting temperature.

A sigh of relief finally passes by your lips, and you’re grateful that for all the trouble it was worth, at least it’s over now and you can pay a decent amount of attention to your own personal hygiene.

Thankfully, everything actually runs by smoothly. You end up finishing your shower, the extra layer of grim you were so desperate to get rid of having disappeared and the tap is swiftly switched off.

And yet that’s when you turn to face the curtain, expression immediately falling.

You forgot to keep your clothes outside of the shower.

Something you immensely regret when your eyes latch onto the way they are thoroughly soaked through with water, freezing cold at first touch.

Glancing down, you bite your lip when you can only see the dry loose towel you’ve wrapped around yourself. You draw closer to the curtains, peeking out hesitantly only to be flashed with the vision of bare skin running by. Letting out a yelp, you immediately retract back.

With a wince, you shake the image away and make a second attempt – this time catching sight of a lovely heater in the far corner of the changing room. However, much to your own dismay, you can only see the flock of individuals right beside it, stealing the warmth that you could have used for the drenched pile beside you.

Your eyes also trail around and examine how all of them have a single towel hanging around their waists, hand fisting the long one that has to be completely covering you. With one last defeated sigh, your helpless eyes wither over to the pile.

The shower curtain is fully pulled away, droplets of soaking water falling onto the ground as you drag your empty bag with you out of the changeroom.

***

A loud sneeze echoes through the room.

Taehyung swivels around, black fluffy hair bouncing in the process. His brows are furrowed, concern lacing deep in his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay Y/N?” He questions, hearing the faintest of sniffles from you. A tissue is withdrawn from your pocket, pressed against your red streaked cheeks and chapped lips.

“I-I’m fine.” You attempt to nod but another sneeze is unleashed from you instead. It causes Taehyung to halt, his hands moving to rest against your shoulders.

“Maybe you should just stay back for today.”

You grasp onto the tissue, shaking your head furiously as only one single thought arises in your mind.

You can’t miss practice.

Taehyung sighs, hands withdrawing into his pockets. He peeks over to his roommate that walks opposite to you, headphones stuffed in his ears.

When his eyes dart over, Taehyung sends him a look of doubt. Unfortunately, Jungkook simply shrugs.

“You can’t force it.”

When Taehyung is left short a few words with that, the three of you arrive at the gym. Though, almost as if the entire atmosphere had shifted, you find yourself walking closer and closer to a line up similar to day one.

Your eyes spring over to Yoongi and you nearly wince, noticing every fiber of tension and hostility emitting off of him as he marches around. Closely following him is Namjoon and it isn’t the two people that drift your confusion away, it’s what one of them walks around with.

The clipboard remains firm in Namjoon’s hands as he occasionally scribbles down, the situation immediately clicking in like a key to a lock when Yoongi calls a member forth to shoot a basketball.

You freeze.

Your heart rate drops, hands becoming clammy within seconds.

Try-outs are today.

Try. outs. are. today.

Taehyung turns, wondering why you’ve abruptly stopped in the middle of the gym. But that’s when he sees your fear-stricken expression and it hits him, hand immediately shooting out when–

“Y/N L/N!”

Your head jerks up at the sound of your name, Yoongi guiding his eyes over to the hoop. “You’re up next. Dribble and shoot a basket.”

You gulp, warily glancing at Jungkook and Taehyung who both try to give you an encouraging look.

Leaning down, the basketball still feels firm and familiar, so you do what you have to. Taking a deep breath, you face the hoop.

You catch clear sight of it right away – but that’s when you suddenly feel a wave of vertigo wash over you, vision blurring out for a moment as you sniffle once again. Squinting your eyes, you attempt to ignoring the throbbing pain pounding against your head viciously and the skyrocketing temperature of your skin, beginning to dribble the ball over to the hoop the best you can.

Controlling as much of the balance you can retain in the moment, you make the final jump and release the ball.

It doesn’t even reach the basket.

Slamming against the ground, a metallic sound buzzes through the gym and you can feel your heart doing the same. A small ‘tch’ comes from behind you, turning just enough to see Namjoon scribbling something down on his clipboard with somber eyes next to Yoongi.

“Please head over to the back of the line.”

You silently nod, biting down on your lip when water threatens to cloud your vision. Clenching your quivering fists, you plant yourself back in line with your head cast down.

Times passes by and you stay in the exact same spot. You assume all the members go one by one, not seeing nor hearing any of them as your gaze remains fixated on the ground, petrified with the inexcusable shot you made.

An arm roughly grabs you, glancing up to see Yoongi inches away from you but facing the opposite direction. “Stand right here.” He directs, “We need to asses your passing skills.”

You slowly do as he tells you like you’ve just regained consciousness, peering around to see Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok all formed in a circle around you. Arching elsewhere, you notice that the whole gym has already formed groups under Yoongi’s direction.

The basketball begins to get passed around, first in Hoseok’s hands before it bounces it and then comes into contact with Jimin. He hurls it over to Jungkook who swiftly passes it to Taehyung, who then looks in your direction.

He softly smiles and you prepare your legs and hands, distancing them enough and focusing onto the ball when he lightly throws it over.

The ball rolls away by your feet, shy by a few centimetres.

Immediately pivoting around, your eyes follow it with disbelief when it continues to roll.

You… missed?

You take a staggering step back, weak eyes still following it. A heavy breath escapes you, feeling your vision threatening to cloud again.

The only thing that brings you back to life is the sound of the whistle, Yoongi gesturing everyone to come back and huddle around.

Your gaze remains helpless though, still watching the basketball roll farther and farther away until two arms reach down to stop it up. You watch as Jungkook picks up the ball, keeping it in his arms and hurriedly dashing over.

With a sigh, you run after him, hearing Yoongi announce that they’ve selected the members and will be calling out names.

“All of you pipe down and listen carefully, okay?” Namjoon hands him his clipboard and he goes one by one down the lengthy list. “Jackson Wang.”

You hear a low ‘yes!’ come from your right.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Jung Hoseok.”

“Park Jinyoung.

More shrills come out from behind you.

“Im Jaebum.”

“Park Jimin.”

Yoongi clears his throat, counting through the list once with a hum before resuming.

“And finally,”

Your heart is pounding against your chest at this point, breathes becoming shaky.

“Kim Taehyung.”

A loud roar of excitement echoes through the room, but it feels like someone’s just ripped your heart out and smashed it into tiny pieces.

When everyone rushes forward to congratulate the new members, you tread backwards. Your shoulders begin to tremble and when you raise your head, you meet the devastated eyes of your two roommates and their two friends, gazes brimming with sympathy. It causes water to stream down your eyes, meeting the blazing heat of your skin and before you even know it, your feet mismatch and you lose your footing.

Sent spiralling back, the last thing you see is a group of familiar faces rushing over in concern.

***

The smell of disinfectant wafts through the air, a young woman dressed in a white coat attaching the IV drip onto her patient’s arm. She gazes down, wondering why on earth someone with such a high fever and thoroughly congested nose would even consider attending a basketball meet in the first place.

Her lids flutter close when she shakes her head in disapproval, resuming to attaching the IV onto the sleeping patient and strutting over to the desk to fill out the necessary forms.

Just then a sound of furious pounding comes against the door, the pen in the doctor’s startled hand slipping out and hitting the ground. She raises an eyebrow, halting her activities and swinging the door wide open only to come face to face with the reason.

Hoseok backs away flustered, “Oh uh – hi…” He sheepishly smiles, and the doctor turns to see three boys behind him with similar anxious looks crossed on their features.

“Jung Hoseok.” She sighs, addressing him first before craning her head over the group currently flocking behind him, “…and friends, what brings you here?”

A man with curly black locks steps forward immediately, pushing the rest back with his arms.

“Is Y/N okay?!” He frantically asks, causing the doctor to faintly smile.

“He’s recovering inside right now. Just a case of the common cold.” Her sharp eyes linger though, arms crossing, “Though going to a basketball meet with a cold was not a good choice.”

His eyes falter, guilt overtaking him, “I-I tried to talk him out of it…”

Jimin reaches over and places a hand on Taehyung’s back when his shoulders slump down. Hoseok spins around, eyes worried. “Can we go see him Soyoung?”

“That’s Dr. Yoo for you,” She immediately corrects, “ –and no, he’s still unconscious and recovering.”

“But–“ She gives Hoseok one look that has the words being taken out of his mouth, head nodding in defeat.

“Can you tell us when he wakes up?” Jungkook speaks up from the far back, all eyes moving over to him but he stares directly at her.

She nods and Jungkook sighs, reaching over to grab Taehyung’s sleeve.

“We should start heading back now.”

Although disheartened, Taehyung nods and follows along with Jungkook. Jimin waves back and Hoseok gives her one last look before leaving alongside them as well.

Soyoung heads back, eyes darting around once when she closes the door firmly behind her. She plants herself back onto her chair, an exhale escaping her as she leans her head against her hand, locks of hair draping when she stares down.

“You know you can come out, right?”

A curtain is immediately pulled away near the window, maroon hair and narrowed eyes poking out.

Yoongi scoffs, back stretching out. “I’m never doing that again.”

“You didn’t have to,” She softly says, turning a page, “And neither did I.”

There’s a look in her eyes that sends chills over him, dangling in between consideration and grim intuition. She resumes back to looking at her documents, turning another page.

An exhale leaves her, “But since you did carry him all the way here, I can make some exceptions.”

Yoongi nods, although his eyes are no longer on Soyoung anymore. Instead he’s staring at you, an impassable look dwelling deep in his eyes.

“A cold… “ He wonders to himself, walking over to your sleeping form when he pursues his lips. He’s not the type to retract back on any decision he makes, but he can’t say his mind isn’t seesawing back and forth when the knowledge of your current condition came into light for him.

It doesn’t help when he sees you now – struggling to breathe and occasionally letting out a cough, listening to Soyoung inform to him that you had fainted because the temperature of your fever had suddenly peaked.

The situation does take a heavy toll on him, but there is something else also lingering in the back of his mind, something he truthfully doesn’t know how to address at all.

When you had collapsed, he hasn’t hesitated a second in hurriedly scooping up your fallen form, quickly shouting to the flocking members to give you some space as he rushed over to the nurse’s office right away.

However, in the haste of his actions, he hasn’t realized what it could have led to.

In much simpler terms, you can say he felt something while picking you up.

So as he slowly walks over to you, eyes still latched onto your sleeping form, he can’t help but wonder if there’s something perhaps particularly different about this new face that had recently showed up during his meets.

His thoughts are broken when you let out a shiver, hands instinctively reaching out to tug the blanket over to cover over your shoulders. But that’s when his fingertips meet the strands of hair dangling down your neck, the texture feeling a little too off for him…

“What are you doing?”

His eyes meet Soyoung who stares at him bizarrely, but he mumbles underneath his breath.

“Hold on, I’m going to try something.”

He gives a gentle tug on your locks.

It’s entirely absurd – which is exactly what he thinks. Giving the benefit of the doubt; many people have differently textured hair and just because yours seems to feel like a patch of grass left out in the sun for way too long, doesn’t mean him having suspicions is reasonable and that he’ll possibly need to back away from what he’s doing right away.

The problem though… is that doesn’t happen AT ALL.

Your long hair slips through the seams and Yoongi is left with a shabby mop look alike in his hands. His eyes are wide when he whips around to look at Soyoung, who had been quietly observing until she mimics the same look of astonishment he has.

That’s when it dawns to him.

His newest member was a lot more different than he had expected.

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gerec · 5 years ago

Text

The Master of Charlton Park

Chapter 8 - Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

This is a double update, and the end of chapter 8! Only the epilogue to go now in Charles’ POV, before we can put this regency au to bed!!!

-----

“Yes,” Raven added, and Erik could hear her laughing still as she tossed a parting remark over her shoulder. “Take as much time as you need to get reacquainted! We shall keep the children occupied until dinner.” And then they were gone, leaving Erik with Charles alone in the drawing room, together for the first time since Charles’ wedding day all those years ago. Neither of them spoke for long moments, with Erik trying to calm his fraying nerves while Charles hid his expression behind his teacup. The quiet was tension filled, with words unspoken permeating the air, as conspicuous as the lines that remained unwritten in the many letters they’d shared. “So when did you—” “Well, I really can’t—” They both stopped mid-sentence and laughed, and some of the stiffness in Charles’ frame all but melted away. In turn the anxiety that had built up in Erik’s gut promptly disappeared, and his tongue did not feel quite so heavy as he searched for the right thing to say. There were a million things he wanted to ask and a million he wanted to say, though there was one in particular that needed to be addressed. “I confess I did not expect to see you back in England,” Erik began, keeping his eyes glued to Charles’ face. “After the Captain…I thought you might come back then, to be with Raven and the rest of your family. But then you wrote and said that you would be staying in America…” It was plain to see the lasting effect Rogers’ passing had on Charles, for he remained clad in mourning attire still, though the incident had occurred almost a year and half ago. Even now the pain of his loss was palpable, and Charles had to take a deep breath and compose himself before he could answer. “There was so much work to do, after the fire,” he said, his hands shaking just a little as he set his cup aside. “Finding temporary homes for the children, raising funds to rebuild…I couldn’t abandon them when they needed me the most.” He remembered clearly the shock he felt, and the sorrow for Charles and the Captain both when Raven had shared with him the contents of her brother’s letter. An accidental fire, sweeping through the small orphanage that the couple ran in New York City. The bravery of Rogers as he ran in again and again to rescue those trapped inside, until all the children were safely accounted for. How he had succumbed to too much smoke in his lungs from that courageous feat, and died the same way he’d lived – as a hero, honorable and beloved. “Charles, I’m so, so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Charles said, and though his voice wobbled just a little, he did not lose his composure. “For your letters, and for your condolences. I will not deny that it was very difficult, losing Steve, though I was lucky to have James and Natasha’s support.”

Erik nodded. “You mentioned them in your letters; a Mr. Barnes and his wife. I believe he’s the Captain’s friend and former shipmate?” “Indeed Steve and James had been friends since they were children,” Charles agreed, and smiled when Erik refilled his cup with fresh tea from the pot. “And he and Natasha both have become great friends to me. I could not have made the decision to come home if not for the two of them, you know. I would not have left the orphanage if I did not know they would take excellent care of the children in our stead.” He had thought himself beyond petty jealousy, having long accepted Charles’ marriage to Rogers, and yet he still felt a twinge at the way his ex-lover said ‘our’ when he spoke of his late husband. There was so much affection, admiration and love, and a shared passion in their work together with the lost children they fostered. They’d had a life together, even if it had been tragically cut short, with a son that they could love wholly and without any societal constraints. It was the life he’d wanted – still wanted – with Charles, though he had no idea if it was even possible, after all this time apart. “Then I am grateful to them as well, and so very thankful to have you back in our lives again.” Charles smiled, and squeezed his hand. “I am glad to be back too, Erik. I have missed you and Edie, so very much.” --- They went to see Mrs. Fergus next, who, as expected was thrilled to see Charles again, and embraced him heartily as a long lost son. After promising more of Charles’ favorite dishes for tonight’s dinner, and securing from him a promise to return often to visit, she shooed them from the kitchen and set to work. Charles was visibly moved by the warmth of her welcome, and seemed surprised at the fondness he’d inspired, from his relatively short time living at Charlton Park. But it was the same with everyone they visited; with Azazel and Janos and the rest of Erik’s staff, who were all full of smiles and well wishes for one they saw as their own. Charles was still smiling when Erik led him outside for a walk on the grounds. They had taken this path together many times, following the exterior of the house to the gardens, and then onwards towards one of the small streams that criss-crossed the property. It was a companionable silence, and one that Erik cherished greatly, basking in the simple joy of Charles’ presence at this side again. Though he still had great hopes – for Charles to love him again, and be with him once more – it would be enough if simple friendship was all that existed between them, now and in the future. Their feet took them to a familiar spot under a canopy of trees; one of their favorite places on the grounds to visit while Charles was pregnant with Edie. It was the crest of a small hill, overlooking the surrounding area, close enough to see the house in the distance but far enough for privacy. They had stolen many a kiss here, entwined in each other’s arms, blissfully happy as they awaited the birth of their baby. Ignorant of the separation that would come to pass, with a bright future still before them… It had truly been the most magical time of his life. “You know, I never had the chance to thank you, for what you did,” Charles said, his voice drawing Erik back from the memories of that far off time. He shook his head and smiled. “I am always at your service, Charles, though I’m not sure what you mean.” “I mean—” And here Charles turned to face Erik, his eyes brimming with emotion, and reached to grip tightly at his hands. “I know why you were there that day, at my wedding. I know you came to stop it, and I know why you didn’t, once you realized that Steve and I had already exchanged our vows.” “Oh.” It was entirely unexpected, that Charles should bring up that painful memory, and he did not know what to say in reply. “I—” He sighed, and squeezed Charles’ hands in return. “You were married, Charles. I could not bear to ruin your special day.” “I know,” Charles said, and the smile on his face was tinged with sadness – for Erik, or for them both he could not say. “I realized only months later, when Raven wrote me about your divorce from Emma. You gave me my happiness, at the expense of your own, Erik, and I shall always be grateful to you. More than I can say.” Erik swallowed, and steeled himself for what he knew was coming. “Your happiness is all I’ve ever wanted.” “I told myself that things between us might have changed,” Charles continued, and Erik was almost glad that his heart couldn’t be broken again, since it had never fully mended in the first place. “I did not come here expecting anything, or to pretend that things did not happen as they did. Only I wanted - needed to tell you that I—” “Please, Charles,” Erik said, because he did not actually think he could bear any pity, or worse, for Charles to feel a sense of obligation to be with him. “You don’t have to explain. I would gladly remain your friend, and be greatly honored for it, for the rest of our days.” He did not know what expression he wore, but Charles gasped and cupped his hands gently on either side of Erik’s face. “Oh, I’ve made a terrible mess of this, haven’t I? No, darling, no you misunderstand me. I only meant to say that I love you, still, always and forever, and was hoping, perhaps…that you might still love me too?” Stunned, Erik could only stare at Charles with wide, disbelieving eyes. “You…you love me?” “Yes,” Charles said, “though I wouldn’t presume that you might feel the same way.” “You wouldn’t…” He paused then, as laughter bubbled in his chest, his heart suddenly filled with joy overflowing. “How could you even think that I might not still love you, Charles, with everything that I am? That I could ever stop loving you, always and forever until the day I died?” At last his remaining self-restraint fell to the wayside, and he swept a grinning Charles into his arms, spinning them both until they were giddy and breathless with laughter. And he kissed him then, as he’s dreamed of doing for so long, relishing the taste of Charles’ mouth, and the way he moaned against Erik’s lips. They clutched each other desperately, as though afraid the other might disappear, so lost in euphoria that he did not know where Erik Lehnsherr ended and Charles Xavier began. He did not know how long they stayed on that hill, or who was the first to pull the other onto the grass; Erik only knew happiness, and a contentment he did not believe he would ever feel again. Of course they could not do much more than share lazy kisses, given their location, and the fact that the children were waiting; Erik knew that they’d already left his guests to their own devices for much longer than was polite or proper. “You will marry me, won’t you?” he asked, as they brushed the grass from their trousers and fixed their jackets and cravats. Charles did not seem surprised to hear his abrupt proposal, and he pulled Erik into another kiss before he led them down the hill and back towards the stables. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you,” Charles said, “though not this minute, and not for a while yet. “We must think of Edie and James after all, and ease them into the idea of our relationship.” He knew that Edie would be over the moon when she found out about Charles and Erik, though he could not say the same for young James who had lost his father not so long ago. For his sake, and for Charles’, he would wait as long as it was needed. “Will you accept my courtship then? In the meantime?” Erik asked, as he brushed a soft kiss on Charles’ hand. “Will you let me lavish you with gifts, and call upon you at your home, until such time that we both deem it suitable to wed?” Once, he thought he knew true happiness, in his lover’s arms, or looking together upon the sweet face of their newborn daughter. And yet, it was only now that the path before them was truly clear of any obstacles; that they were each finally free to choose a life together without sacrifice and pain. “Yes,” Charles said, and Erik could only smile as they made their way home.

#gerec writes #cherik #regency au #the master of charlton park #chapter 8 #part 5 #reunited and it feels so good!#epilogue to come

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realllllfangirllllll · 6 years ago

Text

More Than Friends ||

Chp. 35

Masterlist

CEO!Jaehyun AU x Reader

College Student!Jaemin AU x Reader

Summary: After a complicated relationship with the infamous CEO, you want nothing more than to live your life as a normal college student; however, Mr. CEO just can’t let you go.

{ Previous / Next }

Slowly tearing your eyelids open, you found yourself wrapped up in Mark’s bed. A bead of sweat began to roll down the side of your face. The heat aggravated you, so you flung the bedsheets off you. The first thing your mind went to was your phone. You found your bag on the bedside table and dug desperately for your device.

A numerous amount of notifications flooded your screen when you turned it on. You saw all the texts your friends sent filled with concern, but you couldn’t help but scroll through the many hate comments on your social media. A wave of online news mentioned you and Jaehyun, most of them containing harsh and negative criticism.

Your eyes began to water, suddenly, a stream of tears fell down your face. Sadness and insecurity took over you, feeling helpless as a heavy flood of tears soaked your skin.

Gold digger

Slut

Whore

These words repetitively hit your eyes and shot at your heart. You didn’t understand why everyone hated the two of you together. The more comments you read, the more useless you felt.

You did this to Jaehyun. You turned a perfectly fine man into a scandalous bachelor and crushed his life.

The dizzy feeling started to come back to you and you felt like you were surrounded by mirrors in a bathroom all over again. You thought to yourself: No, I can’t do this anymore. I’ve ruined everyone I love. My parents, my ex-boyfriend, and now Jaehyun.

More tears fell down your face as you read the texts Jaehyun sent. You battled with your emotions and logic, and finally, you took the courage to officially end both of your pain. Typing your final words to Jaehyun, you pressed the send button.

I won’t let anyone get hurt because of me anymore. Just like the others, it’s only right to let Jaehyun go as well. I’m certain. But why does my heart feel this way?

You shook your head, ignoring the aching of your heart. Gently moving your limbs, you tried to touch the slippers lying on the hard floor beside you. The bed creaked and almost immediately, Mark zoomed pass the door and offered you his help.

“Watch out little girl. You just fainted, stop trying to move so much,” he warned you with concern.

You smiled weakly as you stood up.

As soon as Mark made eye contact with you, he knew something was wrong. He asked with worry, “Y/n what happened? Did you cry??”

Turning away from Mark, you wiped your tear-stained face. You told him softly with exhaustion evident in your voice, “It’s nothing...”

Mark walked you to the living room couch and sighed as he went to grab a glass of water for you. The room was dead silent, the only noise was the water hitting the bottom of the glass cup. You turned towards the kitchen and stared at Mark, waiting for him to say something. Handing you the glass, he hesitantly said, “Jaehyun and Jaemin found the culprit, and the reporters bombarded Jaehyun,” he let out a huff of exhaustion and continued, “including the chairman of Starship.”

His final words sent a sharp dagger towards your heart. Guilt started to eat you out alive. You chewed at your bottom lip and mumbled towards the floor, “I really did ruin everything for him...”

Mark caught your words and glared at you, “Are you serious right now, y/n?” He started angrily lecturing you, “After all that you went through, you’re still thinking about others? Don’t you see that none of this was your fault?? You need to start thinking about what’s good for yourself, how great of a person you are, and how you do not deserve to be put on the spot like that.” He shook his head and chuckled a bit to himself, “Shit if liking each other is a scandal, then more than 80% of the world is scandalous. Society is dumb, and you need to understand that your relationship did nothing to harm him or you. If anything, the relationship made both of you a better version of yourselves.”

He sat down next to you and grabbed your shoulder, “Listen here dummy, I don’t want to ever see you cry like this. Seeing you in this wrecked up state kills me too.” He then looked down at his feet, softly saying, “So just know whatever I do is because I want you to be happy, ok?”

Completely ignoring Mark’s question, you asked him, “Who was the culprit?”

He scoffed, “Did you even hear anything that I just said?”

You asked him again, this time with more seriousness, “Who. Did. This.”

Taken aback by your reaction, he replied, “That rich chick, Emily Ahn.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Are you serious...what is wrong with her?”

Mark looked at you with confusion, “You know her?”

Laughing, you replied, “Oh yeah. She made out with Jaehyun and then poisoned me.”

He looked at you as if you were crazy, “Wait and you’re still alive, how? And you’re so calm about this, why?”

“Becaus-” Suddenly the door opened and you both turned around to see who the guest was.

When you saw the familiar, wavy brown haired boy, you looked at Mark with shock.

“Oh my god, y/n. You scared the shit outta me. Are you ok?” Your brother dropped his luggage and ran in the direction of the couch, enveloping you into a tight hug.

“I-I’m fine... Why are you here? Weren’t you in LA?” You asked him, startled by his sudden appearance.

Mark confessed guiltily, “I was worried about you and Xiaojun was freaking out on the other end, so I had to tell him. Sorry...”

Your brother replied sarcastically as he unwrapped his arms around you, “As if I’m going to stay there when the media is bashing on my baby sis.”

Mark sighed and told Xiaojun, “Hyung, she just woke up. Just give her a break before we dive into the haters' situation.”

Your brother’s eyes softened when he looked at you, “Do me a favor sis and don’t look at your phone, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, “Dejun, really? You don’t have to baby me, I get haters from my photography job all the time. Plus, you guys are a bit too late.” You waved your phone in the air and sighed, “I’ve seen everything there is to see.”

He sighed and gently placed a hand on your arm, “Are you ok sis..”

Mark tried his best to cover for you, knowing your brother gets too overprotective of you. He stood up and assured Xiaojun, “Please, do you actually believe your sister is that weak? She’s the strongest person I know, those haters don’t affect her. You got nothing to worry about.”

Even though you noticed Mark sounding a bit off, you gave him a small smile. You were grateful to have Mark on your side. He may be blunt at times, but no matter what, he always supports you and lifts you up at your lowest points. It’s been hard finding someone other than your brother to be there for you, especially since he’s always moving all over the world.

However, Xiaojun wasn’t dumb. He knew his little sister all too well. He also had Soyeon fill him in on everything that he missed. He knew that his sister acted tough and cold-hearted, but in fact, she is actually the kindest, most soft-hearted person in the world.

It might have seemed that he had always carried out his duty as an older brother, but supporting himself and you, his little sister, at the young age of 6 was nearly impossible. He wouldn’t have made it out sane if you hadn’t shown such consideration to his mistakes and personality.

Your brother was a person who likes to constantly move around. Never had he stayed put in one place, ever. Despite his tendencies, you followed him and supported him in everything he did. That’s how you discovered your passion for photography. You wanted to document every place you’ve been to and every memory you shared with him.

Xiaojun sighed as he thought of all the torment you been through. Yet, you still stay strong for him. He didn’t deserve you and he knew that, but it was his god-given gift that he could make sure you lived a life without worries. He got up and told you, “Let’s go sis. We’re getting far away from here.”

You chuckled a bit, missing your adventurous brother, “Ok, where to?”

He pulled you up and pushed you towards the front door, “First, we are revisiting our special place. Then, we are going to your house to get your belongings and passport.”

Stopping to turn towards Mark, he shouted, “Bye lil bro! I’ll keep you updated!”

Mark let a chuckle of relief, “Have fun, you two.”

~~~

You felt a wave of relief wash over you after leaving the playground that you’ve both often visited as children. Catching up with Xiaojun and his adventures made you realize why your brother does what he does. At times, you wished you could live like him. Whenever he felt upset or unhappy with himself, he’d look for self-improvement and content by visiting other countries and meeting new people. It was his way of coping with the abandonment of your parents.

But you were different. You always longed for stability. Yes, you wanted to live independently and free from commitments, but the longer you got to know Jaehyun, the longer you realized that stability can be offered even through the horrors of commitment. He made you realize that maybe your parents were just lost. They couldn’t offer you stability because they didn’t understand it themselves.

You felt stable with Jaehyun. You felt like everything bad in the world would disappear as long as you’re with him. However, you were afraid he wouldn’t feel the same way, especially after last night’s debacle.

Water started to fill the brim of your eyes as you closed your suitcase and headed to leave your apartment. You made Xiaojun wait in the car and hurriedly left, afraid you might bump into Lucas.

Your heart felt heavier and heavier as you got closer to the airport terminals. A part of you wanted to stay and run back to Jaehyun, but the memories of the ballroom and the media made you walk faster towards the gates. You told yourself that you can start over if you just follow Xiaojun. You can meet new people and start a new life where it doesn’t involve ruining the career of the man you love.

———

• This was rather short but still angsty. This isn’t soft hours, it’s sad hours *cue the evil cackling* •

• Stream BOOM 💥 •

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namjoonchronicles · 6 years ago

Text

flutter | yg

↳ NOTES flutter /ˈflʌtə/ noun, a state or sensation of tremulous excitement, informal•british a small bet.

↳ GENRE fluff, domestic af

↳ WORDS 5.1k

↳ SUMMARY –Future is scary. The possibilities and vast chances to take. A recent letter pivots your family to an emotional frenzy and with the impending stress coming up, your husband does all he can to be supportive and push you through. And it wasn’t the only thing he pushed in you. But this time, he’s up for the transition as well, kind of?

↳ WARNING horrible fluffy shit I hadn’t been able to write for awhile, yoongi plays piano (yes, that’s a warning), skinship (pfft, wtf is wrong with me), lots of touching domestic thingy, excessive consumption of coffee, tub scenes (smacks lips), sweaty yoongi (are you kidding me, it deserves its own warning fk you)

↳ NAMJOONCHRONICLES’ HONORARY TAG LIST @kai-tashi @joon94net @yourlocalalien @snugglemejeon @septemberalien @yoongiseesaw

↳ SPECIAL THANKS TO @fangirlaholicxx my sunshine~ and a gift to @majestikblue

↳ SONG joe hisaishi’s ‘merry go round of life’

As the rain begins to drizzle, you heard a piano being played so beautifully, it stirred you awake with a smile on your face. Sweeping your legs off the mattress, no bed frames, you pushed the door open and tattled down the hallway. Slowly, it reveals your husband's gorgeous shoulder frame and his fingers dancing on the keys, his head swaying to the sound. You smiled wider now that you recognize the tune from long time ago. And how it fits the feeling of being and falling in love with him. The fact that he wanted to play this particular song gave your heart the familiar flutter of meeting him for the first time, underneath that bridge by the blossoming tree. How angelic he looked, how his every move made you shudder, just by standing there. And not even a word was exchanged yet.

In small, calculated steps you peeped by the corner of his eyes as he plays, not wanting to startle him. A small smile is formed on the prettiest lips you've ever seen. Your eyes were cast on the view of his wedding band, there gliding on the keys. He scooted over for you to take the seat and you leaned your head on his shoulder. The notes are coming to an end. Around you are opened large boxes, stacks of old newspapers, tapes and ropes. The walls are empty and the carpets are gone. All the things that used to be there, no longer. He links his head atop of yours. Long after the last note is played, and sustained, only the loudest silence remains. But a breathtaking silence. The kind that leaves you enveloped in a dreamy state, and in a trance as the notes linger in the back of your mind. He lifts his fingers off the keys and slid them around your shoulders.

"Thought that it would be nice to play the song that made you recognize me on our last day here," he whispered against your hair and pressing his lips right after.

"It's not our last day, it's the piano's last day here...we need to head back to return the house keys later," you thwarted, lifting your chin up to kiss him properly on the lips. Yoongi's lips twitch into a smile, and his hand rode down your spine, caressing you warmly.

Staring at the empty walls, nails and photo frames brought down to lean against the wall suddenly make you feel burdened with emotions you had been suppressing all this while. But still, it is not enough to let you shed tears.

A plate of biscuits and black coffee, set on the floor, for a simple breakfast to start the day. In the chaotic week, the twins are sent to Yoongi's village where his mom could take care of them. So they would video-call in the morning to see how things are. The younger of the two was really excited to seeing and living in a new space. Although the same could not be said for the first born who is, as Yoongi would say, rather rigid like you are. This change was long over-due and it takes time for you to actually take the fact in. You had grown fond of the place and removing everything that you had taken time to select and put up was a sore spot. Thankfully, Yoongi's high adaptability helped you get settled in real quick.

"The boys wanted to talk to you," you passed the phone to him as he hurried to shove the whole biscuit into his mouth and chewed. He gulps, sitting on the floor with one knee propped up. He clawed the air, waiting for the coffee you were drinking from. The boys are already asking the questions, such as, 'When are you coming', 'What is taking so long' and several other unrelated things. All the mugs are boxed away and already in the new apartment so you had to share. When he finally gets his fix, Yoongi frowned at the screen where the boys were cackling to see their father in such incomprehensible state.

"Alright, Min Gyeonghan and Min Gyeongnam. What's good guys?" Yoongi scrunched his face but kept his eyes glued on the screen, swallowing the dry cookies. The sight made you smile in content.

The boys said that they found a wild squirrel a few days ago, and helped grandmother tie up haystacks, which was a nice transition considering the two had been raised largely in cities. You welcomed the transformation but Yoongi was like, "What about piano? Have you been practicing? Go fishing next time...when I'm around."

At seven years old, Han in particular, showed incredible piano skill with accurate emotional compensation and was fond of playing by ear. However, Nam was excellent in sight reading musical scores while quite not able to implore the same gift into his playing. So as a result, Nam usually gets more practicing hours than Han does. This trip back to the village was something Nam really enjoys. Something he can put his hands on and do well. He recently helped build a bird house for a sparrow. It seems that the two boys are taking all of the talented Min genes.

"So, mom and I are going to finish packing up today, and we're going to visit the new house later, would you like us to call you then? So you could see?" Yoongi asked and the boys nodded enthusiastically.

The call ended in gummy smiles from both sides.

You pour another mug of black coffee before Yoongi stops you midway. "That's enough coffee for you, today, if you drink too much, you won't be able to sleep," Yoongi takes the mug away and chugs it down without pausing in between. You eyed at the good coffee you just made sadly, settling in Yoongi's stomach instead of yours. With the breakfast finished and the children updated, Yoongi continued packing, placing the vase, buffered with crumpled newspapers and when it's full, you placed a fragile tape on them. You threw the marker pen at Yoongi, he caught it in one hand and scribbled, 'Vases & Decor'. The task didn't end there, Yoongi needed to disassemble the book rack in the study room. So he is now seated on the floor, unscrewing the bolts and you collect all the screws, placing it in a transparent small zipper bag labeled as 'book rack #1'. The curtains were the last thing you took off because you didn't want your windows to be spied on while you were still there. Yoongi is on top of the ladder, taking the curtain holder off while you wait underneath to fetch the fabric.

"There's so much dust on it," you commented.

"That's why I told you to get the vacuum with a longer nozzle but you insisted to have the cordless one, not realizing your hand is too short for it to reach up here," Yoongi complained. "I didn't think it through," you scratched your head as he climbed down. "We need a shower," he smirked and clicked his tongue.

"W-we? What do you mean we..."

He meant we.

Folded card boards. Stacked pile of books and bags of trash. Half-wrapped vase and nail holes in the wall where picture frames used to hang. Left abandoned.

Opened bathroom door. Two soaked bodies in the tub. You leaned your head back on Yoongi's chest, skin to skin, basking in the filled tub, enjoying the silence. Yoongi had his eyes shut, arms resting along the brims.

"It's been awhile since we done this, isn't it?" "Quite awhile. I think ever since the boys came."

You let out a relieved sigh. What a relief to have his mother taking care of them until you and Yoongi successfully packed your belongings to move to the new neighborhood. What a relief it is to have a hand to hold when things as scary as this happens. What a relief it is to have Yoongi.

The world doesn't seem so lonely anymore. But as the time dragged on, you begin to wonder if it was a good decision knowing how many changes will take place. Sure Yoongi had been on board with anything you'd propose after a careful thought, and you know he's not the kind to agree on things that are bleak, knowing that the twins will be brought along on the ride, but standing at a cross road between two important paths that doesn't allow you to remain as you were, is unspeakably horrifying. With that thought, your fragile strength wavered like a weathered flag by the sea.

"What if I wasn't as good as I thought I was," you blinked to the view of Yoongi's knee next to yours. Waters lapping as you dunk your hand into the water, linking together. He removes his arm from the brims and hugged your waist, pressing his lips on your shoulder. Your hands flew to the back of his hair, caressing them, before sliding them down the side of his cheek, guiding his lips on yours for a kiss. His wandering eyes flutters close against your cheek, the sound of his breathing in your ear. And what his lips was doing sending you to a complete trance. Just like he did with the piano. Like what he did with the piano.

"What if things turn out to become worser than it is, what will I do then?" you chuckled with watery eyes. Yoongi shook his head and buried his face into your nape instead of responding. "What kind of mother enrolls herself for a degree at this age," you continued. Yoongi didn't join you. He just held you closer and told you the most reassuring words ever, "We'll be okay. You, and the boys, we can do literally anything and everything."

"Are you going to be okay?" "I will be, if you are."

When the offer letter arrived in the mail, you were a concoction of feelings. Delighted, fearful, unsure and uncertain. A combination that was self-destructive on its own. Although it had always been your dream to further your studies, you're not 20 and single anymore. You were older, with financial commitments, an intuitive husband and two gorgeous sons. Pinned with self-induced guilt, you threw the letter, along with its envelope into the bin of your study room. That Yoongi found. A huge argument followed. Cold war was initiated, and sturdiness stringed along sending the boys in distress because they could sense what was happening but could not do anything. Yoongi wanted you to further your studies, because it was your dream. But you wanted to continue this life you've been living, as a mother, as a wife, as someone who has a regular job. To help with the financial demands and expenses. To aid Yoongi.

And to study meant, you'll be adding new debt. You'll be leaving Yoongi with the boys. You'll have to move closer to the university and that means Yoongi had to leave his music academy he pioneered. It meant he has to give up teaching a large class with older kids who were serious about music and trade that with a personal one-to-one class sessions at home with students he could find from the nearby neighborhood. That itself will cause a strain in the financial stance. Not to mention, a pinch in the money bag, as the new neighborhood are full of the musically talented, upper middle class families. The change in the community will expose the boys with unfamiliar upbringings and you hoped that you had given them enough strength, should that day happen. Yoongi wasn't afraid of all these minor things. He was not afraid of changes. As long as we live the way we have lived so far, there will be no bumps in the road we cannot conquer. His core strength was something you admired for so long.

After the shower, he asked if you would be up for making one last memory in this place, on this thin mattress, barely dressed. You scoffed in reply while he glued his lips on your neck, pulling you down with him.

The piano is transported into the moving truck, and the last box was in Yoongi's arm. You did the honor of locking up the apartment carefully. Two boxes were in the backseat of your car since it was fragile. With a mechanical click of the door, you cast a prayer on its view, "May everything goes well from this moment onward." To our new beginnings.

Yoongi is now seated in the driver's seat. But as he waits for you, he reaches for his Canon camera, looked through the view, and snapped a picture of you as you stood there, holding the knob, and looking up at the door you've opened and closed a thousand times, feeling a little nostalgic. He took the shot without telling you and a faint smile appeared on his lips. His sweater paws covering his knuckles makes him look softer than usual. You caught him already looking at you, leaning his chin on his hand that rests on top of the car roof.

"What..." you shyly stepped down the stairs and to the red car. "Nothing, you're just glowing," he blinked, starry-eyed.

You pressed your lips together and rolled your eyes at him, "Alright Romeo, drive, please."

He chuckles lightly and climbed into the car, grabbing the wheels and slammed the car door shut. The engine whirls alive and tires begin rotating, embarking a new journey, a new clean slate, blank canvas that's waiting ahead.

Upon arriving to the new location, located five hours away from your old apartment, Yoongi stops at the safeguard house to present the key card that allowed him to enter. After some simple instructions, he was taught to simply tap the key and the laser gates dissolve. He was already so astonished. You told him that they have two parking spots for each residence, so that was pretty neat. Easier to have the guests around. The apartment has spacious elevator and the flooring was marble.

"It definitely looks painful to keep," he mumbled. "Yeah," you sighed, staring at right while he stares at the left.

"Sir, where can we put the piano?" the man asked from behind you. "Right by the window there, please, thank you," he answered quickly, then he whispered in your ear, "We might need a bigger piano to make the space look fuller. White baby grand?"

White baby grand sounds perfect to be honest. At the mention of refurnishing, your heart swells at the thought of new, more up-to-date furniture and the wider choices you have but dissipates at the possible expenses that will send you to your early grave earlier. As if he heard your thoughts, Yoongi shot, "I've got savings, so don't you worry about that." One by one, boxes were being brought in, kitchen appliances one of the first to be unpacked because you two needed to eat. The coffee machines, the mugs and plates, the dish racks, the wine glasses, oven mittens and rugs. And then the mattresses. While you hammer the nails in to the wall, Yoongi used his screw fasteners to assemble the bed frames. Sweats beaded on his forehead, his drenched white shirt stuck on his skin as he moves from one post to another. He wipes the trickles down his chin with the back of his hand, drilling his eyes to one of the post and then the other.

"Sweetie?" He called for you. "Yeah?" "Can you come here for a bit?"

You didn't question more and leave your hammer behind to attend to your husband, now sweatier than you remembered. You placed yourself next to him and looked at the bed post like he did. Instantly, you picked up on what he thought.

"You're right, it should be on the other side, or we won't have space to walk," you commented. With that simple intervention, Yoongi had you lifting the bed post along with him. He kept asking if it was too heavy and you can stop if you want to, but you'll have to wait until his friend comes over. You said there's no reason to do that, you were impatient as is, and you can't wait to have the whole house come to full view. With the bed frames positioned in a new angle, Yoongi can continue his work easier. All that's left is to put the wooden slats on top and then mattress comes above it, then he can move to the twins room next. He'll leave you to choose what bed sheets you want. He checks how strong the frames are holding up and when he is satisfied, he placed the wooden slats and put the mattress over it. He went out the hallway to check up on you. And while you were nailing, he asked, "What should we have for lun--" he pauses and scowls at the wall clock, "I mean dinner."

But his sudden question caught you off guard and the nail slip from your index finger and thumb, just as the hammer comes. The nail graze you and a steady spot of blood consistently form on its opening. Yoongi took your thumb into his mouth while you hiss in pain. You hit his butt as he suckles on, his hip flinches comically. Eyes never leaving you. He grabbed the tissue from the side and have you pressing on the small wound. You can't even stay mad at him. A moment later, he was on his phone calling a diner for four rice servings, three side dishes and one main dish. You were busy checking if the nails he nailed in for you were strong enough to hold a picture frame. With your wounded hand, messily self-made bandage, you begin vacuuming the dust on the crevices , being a neat freak that you are. Yoongi's conversation was interrupted by the water boiler bubbling done and then the doorbell. Both of you looked at the door and then at each other. You were already marching forward to the doorway but Yoongi grabbed your wrist in a lazy hold as he ends the phone call with the diner.

When the door is opened, it reveals a slightly short stature man with huge grins. He introduces himself with a blinding smile, and two containers wrapped in a cloth.

"My wife and I heard that you guys just moved in so, here's a little welcoming gift from the both of us. My name is Park Jimin," he bit his smile, and gave a polite bow, "I live down the hall there," he pointed with his finger and leaning forward like an oversize child. It's hard to even picture him as someone's husband. But the wedding band is clearly worn, in addition with some other chrome rings, suggesting to Yoongi that Jimin, might be a quite fashionable man.

"Min Yoongi," he smiled back and placed his hand on the small of your back, "My wife."

"It's just the two of you?" Jimin asked out of curiosity, and being quite secretive with your personal details, you were taken aback by Yoongi's unprecedented honesty when he mentions that you have two twin boys. But appreciated when he didn't mention their names. Jimin's lips shaped in an 'O' and he nods at the understanding that the rumors he heard was wrong.

"What about you, Park Jimin? Do you have children?" You diverted the attention to him. And he gladly complied. The ones that asks questions are the ones in power. "I have a baby daughter, she's four months old," he beamed, "But she's not here right now, she has chicken pox so my mother is taking care of her at the village since we both work."

Jimin peeks over Yoongi's shoulder and saw a piano standing by the window.

"You guys play piano?"

Okay, he's getting nosy. Yoongi blinks rapidly, "Yes we do. We'd really like you to come in but the house hasn't been properly set up yet so it's unfortunate..."

"Oh no, it's okay. I've always wanted to resume my piano lessons but having children doesn't make that possible..." Jimin steps back, understanding that he had crossed some lines. Yoongi reciprocate with a peace offering, "I'm not properly settled yet, but maybe I could mention that I own a music academy back in Daegu, so I can offer you a lesson. You live down the hall right?" Yoongi reconfirms.

"Yes, yes! That would be great, you're a piano teacher! That's awesome..." "He is a composer too," you added. "Ah, she's exaggerating," Yoongi chuckles and send Jimin off to his way.

The food arrives just in time. With Jimin's generous wife providing kimchi and beansprout stew with tofu, your dinner was rather lavish.

The first scoop exudes a loud contented sigh. Yoongi lands his hand on your thigh, munching soundlessly. Scanning the room with your eyes, you made a mental note to mop the floors later to finish things up. The twins room need proper tending to, since the boys are pretty individualistic in their own taste so before Yoongi assembles the beds, you made a mental note to ask the boys what color they wanted on their walls and which sides they want.

The two, although physically alike, Han being the first born is very meek and shy, studious and textbook smart. So his colors are yellow pastels with pastel blue drawn moon and stars, you predicted. He has his own book rack that he aspires to fill up soon. He is not much of an outside person, so that's why you were surprised that he enjoyed being out and about in the village Yoongi's mom lived in.

Nam on the other hand, is quite a handful. The little rascal is the one adopting squirrels and taking in stray cats. The only time he is calm is when he is playing the piano. Nam is a violent sleeper and frequently wet his bed when he was younger. He doesn't do it anymore, but the memory stays vivid in your mind because Yoongi was sniffing around like a dog, because he swore he smelled something odd. And when it struck him, he clenched his eyes shut in silent pain, pinching the bridge of his nose. Nam probably preferred something in darker brown tone or dark blue so he could draw stars and planet on them. Very contrasting, isn't it? But they both liked skies.

There's another demanding decision to be made. Yoongi took a seat on the piano seat, revealed the keys and glide his fingers airily over the pretty black and white notes before turning to you in big wondering eyes. You stood there, mug between your palms, leaning your head against the wall.

"What should I play?" "I don't know, how are you feeling?"

For then, he drops his eyes to the keys, muttering if he could remember the notes correctly. And then. And then he begins A Thousand Years. Sending you fleeting away in the dreamy composition, knees buckling, as your eyes begins to water to the song you got married with. It was like your wedding once again. Your heart clenches and blooms at the same time. The emotions flooding with every notes played so expertly, dancing on his nimble fingers. His head lulls along with the music, clenching shut were his eyes. You could picture the montages of the yesteryear that passed, the hardships, the uncertainty, the leap of faith you took and opening your heart to him, and how it was the bravest and the scariest thing you've ever done. However, every big decision felt like a mistake in the beginning.

With two kids, and a happy home; there's nothing more you could ask for. Everything you needed, needing and will need, is right here.

Devotion that he portrays so effortlessly, made you want to match to his standards. It was something you had never seen before. Yoongi is more action than a word man. He doesn't say 'I love you' as frequently as you'd like him to, but it shows in everything he does. From how he wakes the boys up with a kiss good morning, passing you your morning coffee and getting the meals ready when it's his turn to cook, to the way he invites you to a sudden dance by the parking lot on your bad days, grabbing the boys by the waist when they misbehave, or how he cries at each of their piano recitals knowing he's their teacher, and how he takes every meltdown so swiftly in the way only Yoongi does well. You are always at awe of his dedication, and how he seems to know everything he needs to know. He doesn't run away from commitment although it took awhile for him to convince himself to marry. Yoongi is always so put-together, always understanding the situation beyond the surfaces and the outward view.

The tears welling up the brims, impending to fall. Until it finally surrenders from its own weight, trailing down steadily on one side as the song comes to an end. Yoongi looks up with his own eyes glittering. He reached out for your hand and brought you to the wide glass doors, overlooking the view the balcony had. He positioned you in front of him, and you pressed your back to his chest. And he sways his body side to side with you, enjoying the sapphire blue star studded transitioning sky, and one by one, the neighboring residences flickering their lights on. He nuzzled his face in your hair, hugging your waist so tight as if you could disappear into thin air if he held any loose.

"Would you look at that view," he whispers softly in your ear. The images shifts to the reflection of you and him on that glass door, faintly there, and, "There's stars inside of us."

He then brought his arm up around your shoulders, and hums a melody. He shut his eyes, feeling contented with just your presence. And then your index finger, floats over his forearm in a trance.

"The house feels empty without them," you confessed. "I know right," he shot, "Let's hurry up, and finish setting everything so we can have the boys here." "I can't believe I'm saying this but I miss having a fight with them."

With another shared shower, in a somewhat larger tub, the sheets are clean and ready for use, waiting just outside. Yoongi and you climbed on the bed at the same time.

"I can't wait for all of us to live here, I think the boys will really like it... it has playground and the tub is huge, their room is bigger than the last one, they will be so excited and I can't wait for those little faces lit up..." you cheerfully did the shoulder dance until Yoongi begins to snore. And not even the usual kind of snore. More like the surprise attack snore that doesn't give you any warning. Sudden silence and then a hitched breathing in. Your smile dissipates immediately and you frowned at your husband, jaws hanging open, with a hint of saliva pooling at the corners which he sloppily licked over and you scooted closer to his face, eyes falling to the view of his nose and lashes, where you whispered, "You look ugly when you sleep..."

Pause, and pressing your lips on his cheek bones, "But I still love you."

He turns to the side away from you and hogs the blanket, mumbling, "You look ugly too."

Huh. Is that so.

Yoongi's first morning in the new neighborhood includes brewing coffee for the missus and then a stroll down the park to the nearest convenient store to buy some bread and jams for breakfast. Maybe fine sliced beef and eating more of that expensive beef since the boys aren't here. And as he made his way to the cashier, a small ruckus was heard from the entrance where a men was holding two toddlers in each hand while having another one in the baby sling back. He is very attractive for a father of three, to which Yoongi flinches at the thought of possibly falling for a guy.

"Alright, Tata," he spoke and the gorgeous baritone sends Yoongi's arm to sudden chill, "Where did you find that key?" The smart little one points at the apple in the freezer. "We're not having apples until you tell me, where you got that key... Come on sweetie, daddy's gotta go pee, we don't have time for this," he sobs cutely, stomping his feet. Yoongi thanks the cashier and took his bagged groceries, passing the handsome father, idly.

"Taehyung, you dummy, that's Namjoon's key. Give me back my daughter, Lily get back here," this one is also a good looking father, barging through the door, almost hitting Yoongi in the process. "I know I told you I'm going to lend you my game console, that doesn't mean you can kidnap my Lily..." this taller one pestered.

"No! I like Uncle Taetae!" the one who is about seven, throttled back to his dad, Yoongi assumed. "Why?!" "The key is Namjoon's? But Seokjin-hyung, why is it here?" "Because Koya dropped it, you coconut head! You need to give it back to him..." "But he changed his door lock about two weeks ago..." "It doesn't matter?" Seokjin felt how ridiculous the conversation is, "I have to be home, my in-laws are coming..."

What an interesting neighborhood. Good thing is Yoongi don't have toddlers anymore to be hanging out with those losers. Until he receives a phone call from you, asking for a morning sickness pill safe for pregnant women on his way up.

"I think we'll have another one, Yoongs."

That's the thing about families you know. One thing leads to another, and then it piles on. Unexpected, uncertainties, the so-called picturesque view of a blank canvas can sometime be really scary even for Yoongi. So if you're pregnant, and lecture begins in a month, the boys will be back home, Yoongi will be torn limb-by-limb until the baby is delivered. And probably not even then. His fingers run chill, the hair behind his neck stood up. All those sleepless nights, the murky stained shirt, vomits and poops are coming back to haunt him.

His view flew to the bickering fathers now calming their two toddlers, crying for god knows what reason. Are you ready for the chaos that's about to unfold? Will Yoongi be ready to be a house husband and join those very idiots he called losers?

COPYRIGHT © 2019 NAMJOONCHRONICLES do not repost, who do you think is going to be revealed as the house husband for the next fic of this lovely neighborhood? share what you love, tell me what you liked in this one

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arissayoo · 6 years ago

Text

Neverland -> Ateez AU

Chapter 4

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, cursing, dark/horror themes, fem!reader

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: Sorry for the late update, I had to split this since it was way longer than I thought 😅

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

“Y/N.”

I turned around swiftly, trying to locate the source of the desperate call but unable to see anything. I couldn’t place where I was, everything cloaked in a dark thick fog.

“Hello?” I called out, feeling through the darkness. The fog around me cleared, showing me the courtyard outside my university. There, lying on the grass was a boy I had seen a couple times before, his body limp amongst the green. I wanted to call out for him, however, his name slipped from my mind and all that came out was inaudible sounds.

“Y/N....” He voiced out weakly, struggling to raise his arm towards me. Loud footsteps echoed around us, the boy’s eyes widening as he glanced behind him. “RUN!” He screamed, unable to hear my questions.

“Why? No, I need to help you!” I yelled, my voice not reaching him. I started to run forward but hit something hard. It was like a glass wall was placed between us, masking all of my words.

Out of the fog behind him, a figure in all black crept closer, flicking a sharp blade between their fingers. I couldn’t see their identity, a black mask covering almost the entirety of their face paired with a black wide-brim hat that covered the rest. My eyes widened in fear as I felt a sickening chill run down my spine.

“No! Get away from him!” I cried out, watching the masked figure stalk closer to the boy. They grabbed him by the hair, pulling him up so his blood-stained face was visible. The blade was brought to his throat, my voice growing louder as I pounded against the glass. The masked person looked up, their head tilting at my clamor.

“Why did you do this?” The boy coughed out, tears rolling down his face, “I trusted you, Wendy.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about!” I pleaded, trying to get his attention. I didn’t know if my words ever reached him.

The figure covered the boy’s mouth, their other gloved hand wrapped tight around the blade, pressing down sharply on his neck. The sounds of ripping flesh tore through the air, blood squirting out from his veins.

“You did this to me!” The boy’s voice was distorted as it came out from the masked person, “YOU CAUSED THIS, WENDY!”

I shot up rapidly, groaning at the pain coursing through my body. The sounds of someone sharpening metal rang in my ears.

“You look like you dreamt about hell,” Yunho remarked bluntly from the corner of the room, shocking me.

“What are you doing in here?” I demanded, scooting away from him and the sword he was sharpening.

“Your nightmare, want to tell me about it?” He ignored my question completely, raising the blade up to eye level. I stared at him, feeling the color drain from my face.

“YOU CAUSED THIS, WENDY.”

A nightmare, that’s all it was, and yet everything had felt so real. I shook my head, attempting to rid the lingering thoughts. “It was nothing, just events from yesterday,” I lied. Even though it probably was nothing, I didn’t want any more attention being drawn to me or the name Wendy.

Yunho peered at me from his seat, before standing, accepting my lie. “Lunch is almost ready, you’re probably starving.”

Now that he mentioned it, my stomach did hurt from the lack of food. I got up, following him out the door and to the kitchen.

“Well well well, look who’s finally awake.” Seonghwa joked, placing a plate of meat down on the table. I looked around at all eight lost boys, before shuffling to an empty seat next to Mingi.

“Man, you slept for two days but you still look like shit.” I refused to turn around, flipping San off over my shoulder.

A plate of food was placed in front of me, the contents foreign to me. I stared at it, unsure of the food despite my growling stomach. Mingi’s stare was caught out of the corner of my eye, a stoic expression on his face.

“It’s Khanin meat,” He spoke, watching my face contort into disgust. “It’s not bad.”

“Aren’t they shapeshifters, and I don’t know venomous?” I leaned back against my chair.

“Khanins remain in whatever form they die in, and it’s not poisonous if you know how to cure the meat.” Mingi signaled to Seonghwa, who nodded. I grimaced, accepting that the worst-case scenario was death, something I seemed to face daily now.

—

Ugh, I thought as I got up from my seat at the table, my stomach at ease after the meal. It was surprisingly filling and I didn’t feel sick so far. The boys ate with me before splitting into groups for training. I had watched, realizing that I needed to start pulling my weight around here, especially after listening to Seonghwa’s story.

Seonghwa said that the lost boys were brought here in order to defeat Pan. If they were successful in defeating him, would they have returned back to their normal lives? It seemed like the only possible answer, which meant it was my only shot at returning home.

“You okay?” I looked up to see Hongjoong, who was wrapping a cloth around his wrist most likely to start training. I sucked in a breath, figuring it was now or never.

“Please let me train with you. I don’t have any skills or talents, but I know I can’t just sit by.” I pleaded to him. I wasn’t sure if mentioning that this might be my only way home way was the best idea.

There was a pause, Hongjoong thinking over something before agreeing, “Although you need more appropriate clothes.”

He grabbed a clean pair of clothes from his room, waiting for me to change before leading me to the group. We entered the training room which was decorated with targets, weapons, a pile of rope and other supplies lying in the corner. It looked like a gym that assassins would go to, unsurprisingly fitting for the lost boys.

The boys were spread around the room, their targets in front of them. The mixture of mannequin and paper targets were either having blades chucked at them, or being assaulted by punches and kicks. It was not a sight I was used to, and pretty scary at that.

Seonghwa, who was furiously kicking a mannequin, noticed us and finished his practice, kicking the head off before coming over. Hongjoong talked to him in a hushed whisper, while I leaned away from them. There was deadly energy rolling off of Seonghwa in waves, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in fear. Seonghwa whispered something back before making a loud clap, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Listen up, there will be a change of plans today. Instead of training here, we can train outside and complete some things that need to be done. Yeosang, Mingi and I will go look for more herbs and medical supplies. Yunho, San and Hongjoong will go up towards the mountains to add to the map. Jongho and Wooyoung will place traps from the Northside of the lagoon around the perimeter with Y/N.” The rest of the boys nodded, splitting into their respective groups.

“You can train with them and hopefully pick up on something.” Hongjoong pushed me towards the two boys, their faces expressed the reluctance of training with me. They gathered supplies, shoving them into a small bag and talking amongst themselves.

Well, it could be worse. I could have been paired with that devil.

“Here,” A knife was thrust at me, “we will start with basic blade combat.” Wooyoung ushered me out of the room, following behind Jongho.

The path to the lagoon was shorter than I remembered, the trees and surrounding vegetation not appearing any different than the rest of the forest. Jongho and Wooyoung were silent along the way, making the walk uncomfortable. The aura surrounding them was as dangerous as when they were in the training room throwing knives.

“Stop,” Jongho called out, halting his steps as he analyzed at the ground. “We can lay the first trap here.” He gestured for me to come forward, barely giving me directions before I was attempting to set up the trap. Once I started to struggle with the rope, he directed me towards Wooyoung and stepped in to finish my mess.

“Y/N come here. We are going to start with throwing practice.” Wooyoung didn't spare me a glance as he chucked a throwing star at in front of him, his gaze focused. He indicated that it was my turn, fear and anxiety coursing through my veins. I knew I would be nowhere near their skill level, hoping I at least made it near my target.

I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath and throwing my knife with all my strength. It grazed the tree but landed further away.

“Okay, that’s a start. Keep practicing. I’m going to help Jongho with the traps.” Wooyoung didn’t look disappointed which was a win for me. I nodded, walking off to find my weapon so I could continue practicing.

“Wendy.”

The trees rustled around me with the onset of wind, carrying a breathy voice. I snapped my head around to survey the area. There was no one that I could see but I felt a wave of curiosity flow through me.

No. I needed to find my blade and get back to the boys. Besides, I was starting to get annoyed by this ‘Wendy’ alias I was given.

“Come play with us, Wendy.”

I looked into the distance, my mind yelling at me to run away, yet my legs started walking forward towards the sound. Deeper into the trees, I could hear a soft, soothing voice singing quietly in the distance. It was beautiful and calming, beckoning me to come to bask in its warmth.

The trees opened up to reveal the lagoon, the blue water sparkling in the sunlight. I let out a gasp of shock, my thoughts consumed by the singing.

“Wendy,” The voice called, echoing through my ears. “Come here.”

No matter how much I tried to resist, I found myself walking closer. It was as if I was being controlled, my movements dictated by this voice. My legs reached the water’s edge, the cool liquid soaking my shoes.

“Closer.” The voice begged, sending me waist-deep into the water. I continued into the water, my head barely staying above. The singing became louder, chant-like with the addition of new voices.

Something moved in the water next to me, brushing up against my leg. The voice in the back of my head was screaming, cursing at me to do something, anything but I remained there still and motionless.

Lifeless.

“Wendy.” I watched as a woman emerged from the water, her hair framing her face perfectly like a crown. She was stunning and immediately I found myself swimming towards her, enchanted by her beauty.

Her hands ran down the sides of my face, the sharp edges of her nails brushing my cheek. “My, my aren’t you a beauty. I think you’ll do just fine here. I know he claimed you, but I might end up taking you for myself. You’ll join us won’t you, Wendy?”

My head felt heavy as it moved up and down in agreement, none of her words made sense to me. I could feel a tail wrap around my lower body, dragging me further into the depths of the lagoon. The water felt warmer with every movement, and as I gasped for air, a calm sensation embraced me.

“Y/N snap out of it, that's a siren!” I faintly heard the echoing voice in my head. “Let go of her you wench!”

I shook my head, the enchantment spell breaking as I pushed away from my seducer. What was I doing?

The woman in front of me hissed at the interruption, her angelic face morphing into a frightening piranha-like form. She lunged towards me, her nails digging into my arms to lock me in place. I struggled in her grasp, trying to avoid her thrashing tail.

“Y/N, the blade!” Wooyoung directed. Right, my knife! I reached around, scraping my hands against the spikes now present on the siren's tail. It was useless as I remembered having left my knife in the forest somewhere. While I was trying to search for anything that I could use to get away, the siren pulled me by my hair, facing her terrifying face.

“Sorry, Wendy but I can't let you go that easily. He struck a convincing deal for you.” She latched her slimy mouth onto mine, her razor-sharp teeth cutting my tongue. I pounded against her chest, the loss of oxygen causing the growing burn in my lungs.

Thud.

The siren recoiled from me with an agonized screech, blood gushing out of her hand that was latched onto my hair. I took this chance to swim away until the water was shallow enough to then start running.

A series of wooden spears were thrown towards the water, creating a cacophony of wails from other sirens around. I couldn’t hear anything other than the blood pounding in my ears as my legs splashed through the water.

My leg lifted towards the shore, a hand jutting out of the water, wrapping its claws around my ankle.

“Get off me!” I kicked violently against her hand, picking up a nearby spear that had fallen before plunging into deep into the flesh. I could feel a pair of arms tug me onto the shore, managing most of my weight as they continued to run.

The sight of trees skimming by as we ran gave me deja vu, eventually ending when we reached our original location. It seemed like I was always running for my life.

“Hey, you’re okay, right? They didn’t do anything to you?” Jongho looked over me, noticing the small gashes from their claws littered on my skin.

“I’m fine, thank you for coming for me.” I smiled shyly at both of them. “I always seem to be causing trouble.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’ve already had more fighting experience and training than we did when we first got here.” Wooyoung tried to ease the tension, patting me on the shoulder. “Just try not to get caught next time.”

We ended up packing up and heading back to the den for the day. Walking back, I kept feeling dizzy, a throbbing pain settling into my head. I was probably dehydrated and still in shock from the events earlier, choosing to rest once I visited Seonghwa.

Lying down, my headache seemed to disappear, the exhaustion dragging me into a deep slumber.

“Wendy. Wake my child.” The words flowed through my head, light and airy as the voice before. My eyes opened, my body feeling light as it raised out of bed.

“Good. Now I need you to bring me something. Can you do that?” I involuntarily nodded, waiting for her response.

“Bring me Hongjoong’s head.”

#atzinc #ateez #ateez fantasy #ateez au #lostboys!ateez #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #neverland #neverland au #ateez fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop writing #ateez neverland

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momtemplative · 5 years ago

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Nine Days. (COVID-19)

To say day-to-day life has changed since I last posted (March 9) feels like a gross understatement. Nine days feels like the gestation period of some unknown force that continues to grow.

I’m writing, but my words feel like sheets of paper in a cyclone. Nothing cohesive. Self-judgment says, does anyone really want to hear what you have to say in the midst of this barrage of COVID-19 thoughts/opinions/posts/news? Then I shut up and write, even if it’s just something, even if it’s not pristine.

Nine Days, in list form:

1. Thursday, March 12, 2020—THE OUTSIDE TURNS DOWN.

We get the news that schools are going to be shut down for many weeks, probably more. When that happens, the lighting in our house shifts. It’s as if the outside turns down, like half-drawn curtains. And those who live inside the walls of our little house—Jesse, Opal, Ruth, myself, and the pets— take on a fresh-rinsed potency, as if we know we are on the brink of something big and we are in it together.

2. Friday, March 13, 2020—TARGET

We take a trip to Target. Ruth begs to wear her tap shoes, which I reluctantly agree to. The people at Target are amiable; nobody is concerned about keeping a distance yet. We are pushing carts as two-way traffic down aisles, brushing elbows, as we would on any large-crowd shopping day. Moms exchange nods of camaraderie, like fellow Harley drivers on the highway. The overall feeling is generous and very much we-are-in-this-together. What is different, what is startling, is the very, very low inventory. Some of the shelves are completely empty, (toilet paper, cleaning agents) which, in spite of the music, crowds and fluorescent lighting, feels eerie.

The lines are 10-12 people long, cards filled to the brim, and even though I don’t hear one short-tempered word, most of the people in the lines are wrapped comfortably in the tiny glare of their smart phones. It’s amazing how deeply grownups crawl into those little screens, even in public. Ruth walks by them with her tap-tap-tap shoes, duct taped at the buckle and two sizes too big. They make a startling, gloriously sharp sound against the linoleum.

Imagine a line of adults raising their gaze with each step of her foot, like a face-only version of the wave, a beautiful cascade of heads that rise to meet the sound. Each face spreads into a smile when they see where it originates: tiny girl, impervious to her impact, shiny-star tank top and tutu, like a Disney+ version of Madonna’s Like a Virgin.

Back at home, emails flood our inboxes with some variation of ‘COVD-19 closure’ in the subject line. The library. The Rec center. Stores dropping from Main Street like birds shot from a wire. Restaurants and coffee shops are sweating hard, offering discounts on gift cards for later and curbside take-out.

We are getting wind of the fact that we need to slow the spread of this virus so as not to overwhelm the healthcare systems—to ‘flatten the curve.’ We need to stay in as much as possible. Not be in big groups. Probably not see the grandparents for a while. Wash our hands like crazy, scrubbing while singing the ABCs from start to finish.

It sure looks as if we won’t be going to Target (where Ruth who touches every surface with all ten fingers then promptly rubs her eyes and picks her lip) for a while.

3. Saturday, March 14, 2020—SHOULD WE??

Every out-of-house action feels strange and other-worldly. Even the most benign of outings suddenly beg the question, wait—should we?? Do we really need to?? Going to the kid-gym and kid-yoga just two days earlier suddenly seems outlandish. A planned gathering with friends that felt wonderful yesterday feels out of the question today.

4. Sunday, March 15, 2020—COMMUNITY.

There is an amazing video going around of a community in Italy who are quarantined, but still singing from their balconies as an etherial chorus.

A family-walk around the block feels potent and perennially safe. Our next-door neighbor joins us with her dog. We wave at another family of neighbors who are perched on their porch in the sun, their toddler wearing the hilarious mirrored sunglasses of a studly lifeguard. Then we cross and take the bike path behind the houses that are on the other side of our street. Another neighbor exits from her sliding back door, her dog lurching out from behind her. Yet another neighbor steps out into the light wearing pajamas and with his small dog under his arm. Everyone feels hungry for sunshine and familiar connection, but we all keep our distance.

When I was 13, I took a spring break vacation with friends to Arizona, where we visited the “Biosphere2.” The headlines read: “Eight explorers join together in a daring, high-profile study of sustainability and the new science of biospherics—the study of closed systems that mimic Earth’s environment.” Essentially, eight people lived in a sealed-up dome, a mini-earth, for two years to study sustainability. We could see them all through the glass. I remember waving, though I don’t know how accurate that is. I think of that right now, as I wave to my friends through their windows.

Even Opal is weighing her options. Just after lunch, she says to me, “I’m going to try and make Ruth my friend. We may be together for a long long time and I want to have fun with her.”

The girls laugh so hard at dinner tonight, we wind up calling a moratorium when they are unable to take a drink without spraying it across the table. This is very unusual.

5. Monday, March 16, 2020—RAGE

The media is rich with photos of college kids whooping it up over the weekend for St. Patrick’s Day. Seeing photos of hundreds of young bodies smashed together in a bar makes my blood curdle. I can practically see the virus spreading.

Let’s talk about neuroscience for a minute. The brain isn’t fully developed until the age of 25. Therefore, to leave hundreds of thousands of 18-24 year olds to their own devices to make good choices around self-quarantining is like requesting the same from a litter of wild animals. Is there a psychiatrist out there observing this with some sense of concern? Where are the leaders in this? I don’t just mean parents. I’m also wondering about teachers, staff, the adults who own the bars, ANYONE who has some sense of perspective and enough maturity to help float those who aren’t as evolved.

Concurrently, parents are home from work, doing their human duty of staying home/keeping kids home to slow the growth of this thing. Healthcare workers are AT WORK so we can stay home and everyone can get a handle on this thing. Grr. It really is infuriating.

6. Tuesday, March 17, 2020—WHAT IF IT WERE MY IDEA?

Today I have a random memory of having insomnia for close to a year when I first moved to Colorado fifteen years ago. It was agonizing: the mealy brain that would wake me up with an indifferent shrug and leave me unsettled and restless for hours—a fate far worse than jolting into a leap of wide-awake!—left me feeling dead-brained and disconnected for weeks at a time. The only thing that helped me to recover was to pretend it was all my idea. I have no recollection of how that notion ever came to me but there it was. I’d wake up at 3am and force myself to say, well, super! I was hoping to be up tonight! I have so much to do, after all! Filing, for example, was a big one. Before going to sleep at night, I’d actually pile things by my bed to do when I’d wake up during the night. It positively worked. In under a week, I was sleeping like a mouse.

I got to wondering if that hypothesis could be applied to this COVID reality. Perhaps, I could say to myself, now is as good a time as any to face down some mortal fears and learn about what it’s like to live in quarantine with a four and a ten-year-old. I’m not talking about Pollyanna-Sizing in the least. Just talking about broader perspectives to keep sanity in check.

7. Wednesday, March 18, 2020—A FEW GOOD THINGS

Some parts of this feel tenable, dare I say nurturing. The first few days of this have felt like a combination of a snow day and a meditation retreat. It is part family love-fest, part novel bio-spheric experiment. The weather is warm and inviting so we triple our number of family walks and clock in hours in the backyard. (Backyard, oh how I love thee.) Time feels abundant and luxurious. The slow-drip news of this international trauma infuses the ordinary moments with a sense of urgency, of faintly (or not) facing our individual mortality. Each choice is whittled away by the updated COVID rules du jour. Gratitude lists brim with things that may have previously been taken for granted: health, family, running water.

I clean the hell out of the bathtub today and enjoy every moment of it. I cannot for the life of me remember an instance when I took my time cleaning the bathtub like this, doing small circles on the tile like Mr. Miyagi. I typically rush through my cleaning with some sense of discontent, feeling that it’s taking up space that could be used for something worth relishing.

I typically feel paycheck-to-paycheck with regards to time. But now, time is one thing we have more of than we could possibly use. Usually, my brain has the feeling of being pulled down the road by pack of strong wolves. A lurching feeling. Now—not the case. I feel a shit load of feelings, but rushed and overwhelmed are not on the list.

While I clean? The girls are content reading books in their individual ways. Jesse is in the living room in the rocking chair he continues to scoff at, feet up on the rocking foot-stool, MacBook in his lap as if he’s rocking it to sleep. In that moment, there is a settled feeling inside the places where rushing and overwhelm are usually expected. This is one part I do not mind about the new norm.

8. Thursday , March 19, 2020—SNOW / CREATIVITY IS REQUIRED FOR SUSTAINABILITY

There is at least ten inches of snow on the ground—an abrupt change in weather—and I want to start drinking well before lunch. Cozy as it is, all I can think of is our lack of ability to escape into the out-of-doors.

Yesterday I felt heavy and blue, like the adrenaline was wearing off and the novelty of our situation was waning. My face felt leaden and I was short-fused with everyone, making audible sighs of exasperation that drive me bonkers when done by someone else. I miss my friends. I miss my routine and my work and Sunday morning writing-then-yoga. I know everyone does, but I do too. I want my Big child to continue to enjoy being with my Little child without constant management. I want to know HOW THIS IS ALL GOING TO UNFOLD.

Then, moments later, I am telling Opal how we need to try and be patient with each other. We can get what we need with kind words. We are a team.

I am struggling to find balance. One moment, I am a parent who remembers that Opal feels the same feelings as I do around all of this, yet with less perspective and practice on how to be with those scary inner-bits. The next moment, I am fed up with her vague grumpiness and I just want everyone to work together dammit!

The koan is how to feel spacious in a scenario where there is very little limited space.

Today I awoke feeling brighter. Opal has a Girl Scout meeting over Zoom at 2pm. Something for the schedule that did not originate from a member of Grimes Home Base! Yay! We are both as excited as eager peaches. Facetimes, Skype, Zoom calls are going to be the wiring the keeps us tethered to our relationships. Such irony, when, not long ago, the internet felt like the very thing that perpetuated our universal disconnection.

People are starting to get innovative with their use of the Web, and it’s inspiring as hell. Creativity will save us. Some of my favorite local musicians are doing “QuaranTours”—live shows on line. A famous kids’ book author is teaching the art of doodling. Late night Talk Show hosts are doing shows from their living room, with kids climbing on their shoulders and cheeks shiny without the help of a make-up crew.

9. Friday, March 20, 2020—WE NEED A BROCHURE.

Last weekend, we invited our dear next-door neighbor over to watch Frozen 2 with us. She ate our Pirate Booty, sat on our furniture. The things you do with a friend on any given, normal day. This weekend, she texted to see if we wanted to watch another movie, this time with her fiancé who had been traveling last weekend. I felt the need to explain that so much has changed since last Sunday, at least for us. Had it for them? Our tactics had been distilled down to the essence. At this point, we have decided not to let anyone else in the house right now. They totally understood.

Then I ran into them while on a walk today. They were walking towards Elvis and I on the sidewalk and I crossed the street away from them, not at all realizing who they were. I was just doing my usual COVID-cross-the-street-to-give-room move. I was also absorbed in a Podcast.

I crossed-back to see them. I was genuinely giddy with the prospect of their company. I realized I hadn’t been with any adult other than Jesse during the past week. I must've oozed with fervor! But, quickly I felt awkward because I was standing only a few feet away from them! I stepped back but that also felt wrong. Then I was aware of them being aware of me, and I thought, what is happening to us? These are my friends! But because we are not all on the same page, it can feel a bit clunky. Even still, our interaction was supremely satisfying. I wanted them to stay with me for the rest of my walk, but they had plans to go play Scrabble.

Oh how hungry I was for diverse conversation! Those few minutes on the sidewalk together were rich with talk-points and humor. Memorable. I’m still finding my way with enjoyable FaceTimes, but long-distance sidewalk chats are thus far my jam. I had a fantastic chat with a neighbor a few doors down while we were shoveling, and with another neighbor from my porch to her on the sidewalk. Both were far enough away to comfortably toss a softball. Both lasted only a few moments. Both were lavish with depth and hilarity, but concise, as if there were no time to waste.

March 20, 2020

Photos—Top: gel print by Opal. Middle: quick portrait by Ruth. Bottom: me rainbow-organizing markers (who has time for that on an average day??)

#momtemplative #HeatMamaWords #mindfulparenting #CovidList #NineDays

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bladesoflightandshadow · 6 years ago

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relationship headcanons [shreya x mc]

note: here she is in all her two month late glory. i cannot for the life of me find the original post that the prompts were taken from, but if you can, please lmk!

pairing: shreya mistry x f!mc (rhea yang)

words: 2,834

warnings: none

. . . . .

who hogs the duvet

Rhea is comfortable sleeping at pretty much any temperature, being both a Water and Sun-Att, whereas Shreya absolutely hates being cold. The nights they spend together—especially in the winter months—mostly involve Shreya hogging the duvet while Rhea puts up a weak fight before letting her have most, if not all, of the blankets.

Sometimes Shreya sneaks into her girlfriend’s room with the excuse of it being too cold to sleep alone, and Rhea doesn’t ask her why she doesn’t just turn up the magick heating system they have installed in their dorms. Even with the blanket hogging, she likes having an excuse to sleep next to her.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

Shreya. She pretends like she’s above it, but with her girlfriend’s life constantly being in danger as of late, she can’t help but worry about her a lot of the time. When they’ve been apart for more than a few hours and she’s unsure of what Rhea’s doing, she’ll drop a (magickal?) text asking her what she’s up to. Before they started dating, Shreya would try to hide this worry by sending her texts about other, unrelated things, like homework or random life updates, and then wait for a response just so she knew Rhea was alive.

“Zeph, do something stupid.”

“What?”

“Do something stupid! Be yourself! I need something to text Rhea so I know she hasn’t died since the last time I saw her.”

“You could…just…ask her?”

“And show vulnerability? Are you insane?”

She’s able to drop these pretences once they officially start dating, and honestly, Rhea doesn’t mind it one bit.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

Shreya’s the one who gives the most gifts, but Rhea is the one who has to be a little more creative when coming up with ideas, what with her not having Shreya’s endless Mistry wealth to fall back on. It’s important to her that Shreya feels appreciated for everything she’s done for her and their friends, so she tries to go the extra mile every time the opportunity arises to give each other gifts. Rhea often enlists the help of Griffin or Zeph, both far more experienced in magickal gift-giving than she is; Aster’s shop is also a treasure trove for quirky magick things she can put together as a present.

For their first-year anniversary, Rhea gives her a scrapbook she’s been working on since they started dating, filled to the brim with animated photos, souvenirs, poems she wrote, drawings, pressed flowers, and other magickal and non-magickal knickknacks she collected throughout their relationship. Shreya cries a little.

“Do you like it? … Oh, oh god. Are you—Are you okay?”

Shreya hugs her so suddenly and forcefully that Rhea almost topples over.

“Rhea Yang, this is the sweetest, most adorable thing anyone’s ever done for me,” she sniffles into Rhea’s neck.

“I…I’m really glad you like it.”

“I love it. I love you.”

who gets up first in the morning

Rhea. She’s a morning person by virtue of her being a Sun-Att, and can’t bring herself to sleep in any later than 9 A.M., even if she barely got any sleep the night before. Shreya can’t stand this—even though she tends to wake up fairly early herself so she has time to get ready (“You think I manage to look this good by waking up ten minutes before class every morning?”), on days where she can sleep in, she doesn’t appreciate being woken up, however unintentionally, by Rhea getting out of bed. Rhea tries to make up for it with cuddles and kisses, or by bringing breakfast from the dining hall to their suite if she has time.

who cries during movies

Shreya is usually the more emotional one, but she can’t count on one hand the number of times she’s seen Rhea cry while watching some heart-warming animated movie. They’re having a Pixar movie marathon one night after a long week of classes, when Shreya notices sniffling sounds coming from Rhea during the opening scene of Up.

“They just—they just wanted to have a kid, you know? But they couldn’t, and they loved each other so much in spite of it, but then she dies— And then this little kid shows up on his doorstep as if she’s guided them to each other and he follows him on the adventure of a lifetime that he’d talked to his wife about when they were kids…”

Shreya can’t help but smile, but she refrains from teasing her. Instead, she wraps her arm around Rhea and pulls her close, wrapping the blanket further around them while Rhea nestles her head in her shoulder. Shreya presses a kiss to the top of her head.

“I didn’t know this movie made you so emotional.”

“Yeah— well. I watched it a lot as a kid.”

who gives unprompted massages

Shreya. She picks up a trick or two from spending so much time at the spa, so whenever she notices that Rhea—who’s usually fairly laid-back—is more tightly wound or stressed than usual, she’ll sneak up behind her for a surprise massage.

They’re in their suite with their friends one day, poring over books in an attempt to find out more about whatever it is that keeps attacking Rhea, and Shreya can’t help but observe how tense Rhea seems. Once the others have left, Shreya pulls Rhea down onto the couch next to her, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck.

“Your back is in absolute knots, love,” Shreya mutters, lifting her hands to rub Rhea’s shoulders. “You might as well be hiding those little shadow monsters in them.”

Rhea seems to relax, but only marginally. “Maybe then we’d have a better chance at finding out what’s going on.”

Shreya shushes her before she can continue. “Nope. No more talk about shadow monsters or Blood magick or reflections. I’m demanding that you take a break.”

With Shreya’s small and surprisingly strong hands at work on her shoulders, Rhea can’t find it in her to argue, so she sighs, leaning into Shreya’s (quite literally) magickal touch and allowing herself to feel content for the first time in a while.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

Shreya’s definitely the one who worries the most. Rhea catches a nasty cold after getting doused in lake water during a Thief game, and Shreya barely leaves her girlfriend’s side while she’s bedridden. She has to use force to keep Rhea in bed half the time, because Rhea hates being immobile for long periods, which leads to Shreya at some point using magick on Rhea’s blankets to trap her in the bed. She brings food up from the dining hall for Rhea and even tries her hand at cooking her mother’s recipe for soup that’s meant to help cure colds. This… does not end well, because Shreya is a horrifically untalented cook. (More on that later.)

On the other hand, Shreya hates it when people fuss over her when she’s feeling ill or otherwise not like herself—she hates showing weakness, so she tries to hide it. Rhea is very perceptive, though, so even the slightest change in Shreya’s behaviour will alert her to something being wrong. When Shreya gets sick after getting caught in the rain, Rhea takes up Attentive Girlfriend duties by gently persuading her to rest—because Shreya Mistry’s stubbornness is second to none, so Rhea needs to take the more encouraging route. Rhea’s a lot less overbearing compared to Shreya, but it’s little things that she does, like stopping by Shreya’s room to check on her between classes, buying Shreya’s favourite food to cheer her up, and cuddling up next to her to watch trashy reality TV, that remind Shreya why she loves her so much.

who gets jealous easiest

Shreya, definitely. They’re both attractive, charming people who attract a lot of admirers, but Rhea for the most part laughs it off easily, while Shreya bristles whenever someone so much as bats an eyelash suggestively at Rhea—though she tries (and fails) not to show it. It’s a little hypocritical of her, honestly, considering how Shreya flirts with pretty much every new person she meets, but she can’t help it.

During their first few days at Penderghast, when Rhea and Griffin were spending a lot of time together, Shreya recognised that spike of jealousy in her gut the moment she saw Rhea flirtatiously pull Griffin’s arm around her in the hall that one time. Almost on instinct, Shreya started overcompensating by flirting more with Griffin whenever Rhea was around, thinking it was her that she was jealous of. This backfired when Rhea found the whole thing hilarious, assuming that Shreya was just like that. It took Shreya a few days to realise it was Rhea she was interested in, not Griffin. After that, she realised she needed to be a little more…forward when it came to flirting with the fairly oblivious Rhea.

who takes the longest to get ready

Shreya, quite simply. Rhea used to get complaints from her family for taking so long to get ready every morning, but having to wait on Shreya is on a whole other level. Shreya makes them both late to every event they go to (partly on purpose, because what better way is there to make an entrance than to arrive fashionably late?), and it drives Rhea crazy.

“Oh my god, how many more products do you need?”

“Beauty is pain, babe, and sometimes pain means you need to be patient with me.”

who is the most tidy and organised

They’re both organised in different aspects of their lives, and completely dishevelled in others. Shreya likes making lists, and always has her bullet journal (or the magickal version of one) on hand. It’s filled with due dates, shopping lists, appointment dates, and random scribblings. She may not be the most studious, per se, but she always knows what she needs to do next and never turns in work late. Rhea reads and studies a lot, but is kind of a scatterbrain when it comes to remembering when things are due, so she tends to rely on Shreya for that, even in classes they don’t share. (“Honestly, Rhea, what would you do without me?”)

One thing Rhea can’t stand, though, is a messy living space. Her room is always tidy and spotless, with everything she needs to find in an allocated drawer, her bed always made, all her clothes either folded or tucked into a hamper and never on the floor. It drives Shreya a little crazy when her girlfriend and roommate is nit-picking at how messy her own room is whenever she comes around—because, let’s be real, Shreya having grown up with servants at her beck and call means she probably isn’t the best at keeping her room tidy, even with magick to help her. They spend most of their time in Rhea’s room because of this, until Rhea caves one day and forces Shreya to clean her room with her.

who is the big spoon/little spoon

They take turns depending on their moods, but Rhea is usually the big spoon. Not always of her own volition—Shreya is notoriously good at getting what she wants, and what she wants is to be cuddled, goddamn it. Not that Rhea minds.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

Okay, hear me out: Shreya. She doesn’t actually play any sports, and initially doesn’t even care much for watching Thief, but dating their star Sun-Att player slowly turns her into one of those Intense Supportive Girlfriends cheering viciously from the side lines. (It’s the Fire-Att in her.) Zeph has to do his best to get her to calm down, while Beckett (if he’s even around) pretends like he doesn’t know either of them.

“You call that an Air spell? My girlfriend could out-cast your ass any day!”

“Did she just shoulder-check Rhea? Oh my god, I’m about to run onto that field myself—”

“That is SHREYA MISTRY’S GIRLFRIEND you’re about to steal a flag from—”

“Shreya…please, literally the entire stadium is staring at us.”

who starts the most arguments

Shreya. It’s not usually on purpose, because she hates intentionally bringing problems into their relationship, but her temper sometimes causes her to snap. Sometimes, though, she finds it necessary to bring up problems they’re having, because Rhea’s the type to avoid conflict, even when it clearly needs to be addressed—that is, if Shreya never brings it up, it’ll never be resolved. Sometimes it’s over something small, like how Rhea keeps forgetting to lock their door, and sometimes it’s something bigger, like how Rhea always tries to pretend like she’s okay when she clearly isn’t, but they always talk it out, even if it takes some screaming at each other to get there.

Other times, Shreya finds herself picking arguments for no reason other than the fact that she’s had a bad day. When this happens, instead of arguing with her, Rhea will try her best to cheer her up—sometimes by grabbing her girlfriend’s hands, kissing them and making Shreya tell her what was really going on, and other times by simply, without warning, hoisting Shreya up onto her shoulders and running around like an idiot until Shreya devolves into fits of laughter. (Side note: Rhea is definitely nearly a head taller than Shreya, and is very much capable of carrying her for long periods.)

what tv shows they watch together

Shreya is absolutely the type to be into trashy reality TV, though it’s mostly Attuned TV shows. When Rhea introduces her to America’s Most Eligible, they both fall in love with how ridiculous and awful it is.

“Who the FUCK voted for Zeke over Bianca?”

“Okay, like, Ivy is an evil conniving witch and whatever, but that plot twist was… hot.”

They watch a lot of other stuff together, like true crime documentaries, which they both love, and weird, obscure indie movies that Rhea’s obsessed with and which Shreya tries to pretend to be interested in—but nothing beats AME nights together.

who is the best cook

Rhea, by default. Shreya’s skill at brewing potions unfortunately doesn’t translate well into the kitchen, but for the longest time neither Rhea nor their friends have the heart to tell her. When Rhea gets a cold and Shreya tries to make her soup (no magick ingredients, just good old-fashioned soup that her mom used to make for her), and Rhea is a little more out of it than usual and is unable to hide her distaste for the concoction Shreya has made for her, the not-so-secret comes out.

Shreya sighs. “You can stop pretending to think I’m a good cook, you know.”

“That’s not what I…” Rhea stops herself, partly because of the sudden wave of dizziness that hits her, and partly from defeat as Shreya shoots her a look that says, Don’t you lie to me. “I’m sorry, Shreya. I love you to bits, but God, your cooking is a nightmare.”

Her girlfriend rolls her eyes. Shreya is sitting next to her on the bed and is holding the bowl of soup in her hands, which she places down onto the bedside table. “Fine, I’ll go ask Beckett to brew something to help with your cold—”

“No!” Rhea grabs Shreya’s hands as she stands up as if to make to leave. “No Beckett. If I have to hear him tell me that I should’ve taken his advice and worn a protective ward before the Thief game so I wouldn’t get sick again one more time, I might just kill myself.”

Shreya narrows her eyes playfully and draws her hand back. “Hmph. I feel like that’s a pretty suitable punishment for you considering you’ve been lying to me.”

Rhea falls back onto her pillow, lifting a hand up to her heart like she’s just been shot. “They always say the lover did it…”

Rolling her eyes again, Shreya moves towards the door, for real this time. “Seriously. If you won’t accept my soup then I need to find some other potion to cure you. I’ll ask the infirmary.”

From her slumped position in the bed, even her exhaustion can’t mask the stupid smile that spreads across Rhea’s face. “Hey Shreya.”

“What?”

“I love you. A lot.” Rhea doesn’t miss the quirk of Shreya’s lip, a small smile breaking through the joking exterior. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better. I appreciate it even though it turned out terrible.”

Shreya’s face falls, once again replaced by a characteristic eyeroll. “Ugh, you were doing so well in the first half.”

She whisks out of the room and shuts the door behind her. A few seconds later, the door reopens and Shreya reappears. “I love you too, stupid,” she says, before slamming the door closed again, Rhea laughing like a little schoolgirl in love in her wake.

#playchoices #the elementalists #shreya mistry #shreya x mc #shreya mistry x mc #gotta get on those tags can't let my the first piece of writing i post on here be a flop #mc: rhea yang #i dont quite know how this posting thing works but uhh. here goes nothing #sorry in advance if the readmore doesn't work #long post #my writing

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