#the way tangerine doesn't even acknowledge it

[orangecrush]

[waldau-archived]

crescendo — chwe hansol | 1,042 words | fluff

boinon! chwe! hansol! back on my marriage agenda because it's ME. song taken from vernon's playlist from weverse magazine. also i'm a firm believer that vernon is the kind of guy who looks at two of anything and just goes "us." please enjoy me simping for him.

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

you notice vernon's not sleeping anymore.

he's looking up at you from where his head is resting on your chest. he always does this thing where his gaze is focused on you till you acknowledge it, whether it's by asking him what's up, or blushing at how intense it is.

this time, though, you don't do anything to shake the moment. so it's just you looking down into his eyes that are looking back at you, and it's not the first time you've paused to admire his eyes.

before vernon, you didn't really understand how you could be lost in someone's eyes. but his eyes? hazel brown, shining when they catch the light just right, a hundred thoughts running through them. streaks of light you wish you could decode.

there's a soft love song playing in your ears while your hands rest on his chest, tracing the shapes of the stars on his shirt. he manages to look good even when he's upside down, somehow.

soft. vernon would shake his head if you said that to him out loud, but he wouldn't deny it. not anymore. he likes when you call him nicknames. he likes when you call him, even. content to listen to your self-professed rambling about whatever's on your mind.

just like you're content to listen to him ask you ridiculous questions out of the blue. ridiculous to anyone who doesn't know him.

"do you believe we're made of the same stuff stars are made of?"

you'd blinked out of the show you'd been watching. "i...yeah? technically? hydrogen and all."

"does that mean we found each other all those years ago? and not just now?"

vernon has a way with words, really. he doesn't downplay it, but that's because you don't let him know how much it affects you in the first place. you could be talking about two seeds in a segment of tangerine and he'd say it was the both of you. two moths flying around a lamp? you.

and then there's times you think his humour couldn't get any worse.

"hey, you dropped something."

you'd looked around to find nothing out of place. "what?"

"my jaw."

suffice to say, vernon didn't get a single kiss from you for the next few hours.

(of course, you'd had to make it up to him with a ton of kisses and cuddles later on.)

right now, he's still looking at you, and the song has changed. you don't know the name of it, having picked it from the playlist vernon made for you, that he keeps adding to.

i hope you like this, he'd said shyly, when he'd sent you the link to it.

it's not surprising that you've liked almost every song you've heard so far. of course, there's a few that don't match your vibe, but when you close your eyes and think of vernon enjoying the song, lost in his own world, it makes you like them a little more.

back to the present. your fingers are tapping along to the rhythm of the song, something about love and self-doubt, upbeat yet heart-wrenching with a guitar riff that's so painfully vernon that you have to lean down and kiss his head.

vernon grabs your fingers where they're dancing on his chest and presses a kiss to your thumb. then your index finger. then the rest of your fingers. and then your palm.

you stop the song, amused at how affectionate he's being.

"what's up?" you ask, taking off your earphones.

he shakes his head. you push at his shoulder lightly.

"keep listening to your song."

you frown. "am i ignoring you?"

vernon sighs. "not at all. it's just...you'll stop doing it if i point it out."

"stop doing what?"

he takes your hand and places it on his chest, trapping it in place with his own. "you do this...thing. you tap out a song on me when we're not listening to it together. and then i try to guess what you're listening to. and i almost always get it wrong. it's...silly."

your heart feels too big for your chest. "vern? have i ever told you how much i love you?"

he shuts his eyes, a smile on his face. "yeah. 'course you have. love you, too."

squeezing his hand that's holding yours, you resume playing the song. he lets go of your hand so you can continue tapping out the beats.

"can you guess what it was?" you ask, once the song ends.

"hm. kinda fast paced, and there's only a few of those on there. breaking the law?"

"nope."

"rock with you?"

you shake your head. "did you really add one of your own songs on there?"

"hey, we make good music, too."

"never denied that."

vernon shrugs. "i don't know."

"marry me."

vernon freezes noticeably under your hand, before pushing it away and sitting up, staring at you.

it's just you and him and the silence in the room. his eyes have you trapped in place, unable to look elsewhere.

"by ellegarden!" you blurt out, suddenly realizing how your words could be misconstrued. "it's..." you scroll through the playlist. "the first song you ever put in there."

"oh," is all he says, but he's blushing. he's blushing. you made your famously stoic boyfriend blush.

"vernon? did you think i..."

"...maybe?"

you let out a small laugh at that. "do you really think...have you ever thought about getting...y'know?

"married?" he asks, smirking. "you shouldn't ask me about it if you're so shy."

"i didn't—!" it's a losing battle. of course you've thought about it, and of course you're shy about it. spending the rest of your life with the person who means the most to you sounds like a dream, and you're living in it right now. halfway there.

"if it's any consolation," vernon says, slotting his fingers with yours, "i've thought about it."

"and?"

"i like it."

it's nearing six in the evening. vernon has his head on your chest again, listening to a song with you this time. you're going to have to listen to it again, the way your brain is clouded by thoughts of him and you.

it can't get better than this.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi

[sebsbarnes]

a house is not a home || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: for months now you lived two separate lives. existing on two completely different orbits, the distance between you growing into lightyears

warnings: angst, lovers to strangers

word count: 930+

masterlist

a/n: tbh i threw this together in about 20 mins, apologizes, in case, now. i'm sure there's grammar errors sorry!!

as the moon exchanged places with the sun and the streetlights woke up, the unsettling feeling in your stomach did not fade. the apartment felt still despite its walls now surrounding two bodies. moments ago the door opened and tangerine shrugged his jacket off, tossed his gifted watch onto the oak table, and sighed his way over to the bedroom. his eyes did not wander towards your waiting body and his mouth uttered no words. you felt the burning sensation of tears line your eyes and your thumbnail dug deeper into the soft spot between your pointer finger and thumb.

you heard the shower turn on and off, the sliding of a dresser drawer opening and closing and the sound of his heavy-footed steps exiting the bedroom and into the living room. your longing stares went unnoticed as he sat down on the couch farthest from the chair where you had your knees tucked under your chin.

'hi' is what you wanted to whisper out to him but it was as though an invisible hand had pressed its palm harshly to your lips. some inner voice screaming and shaking you telling you to wake up, that tangerine doesn't love you anymore. life lately has been a constant cycle of tangerine busying himself with work, disappearing for days, only to reappear and pay you no mind. as if your presence wasn't there or as if you weren't human, but some mere statue that sat idly in the living room every night.

you no longer knew the man that sat at great length before you. the physical distance in the room was an exact mirror of the emotional distance the two of you have. it hurt to even look over at tangerine. it stung, it burned. you've simply faded into the busy background of tangerine's life that he doesn't even acknowledge when you are in his presence.

with shifting eyes, you looked around the room. memories flooded back. you peered at the doorframe of the house, the first place you had ever kissed tangerine. it was after a date and he had walked you back home. you felt nervous not knowing if he wanted to see you again but all worries subsided when he gushed about the lovely time he had and that if you allowed, a second date would follow soon after.

"of course," you whispered, your face warming up. you saw the way tangerine paused, soaking in your features as if you just told him you never wanted to see him again.

"may i kiss you?"

you looked away from the door frame, the bitter memory of your first kiss being too sad. your eyes cast a glance towards the floor and raked over the pattern on the rug beneath your seat. the small blue stain stared back at you, mocking you for the once beautiful memory it held.

"darlin'- i'm so sorry," tangerine pleaded as he walked into the kitchen. you sent him a quizzical look as he gripped your hand and guided you back to the living room where he came from, "i accidentally knocked the paint over, i- i tried cleaning it up the best i could bu-"

"what were you painting?" you asked completely befuddled. tangerine was not a crafty man. he sheepishly grabbed a small canvas off the side table and handed it to you.

"happy early birthday," he smiled, placing the canvas in your hands. a small painting of a river stared back at you, a river you were familiar with. it was the place where tangerine finally asked you to be his girlfriend.

"i don't care about the stain, this is absolutely precious tan," you grinned, gently resting your hand on his cheek.

the memory made you nauseous and you rested your head back onto the chair forcing your tears to sit in your eyes.

tangerine's work became overwhelming once he made a name for himself. he devoted his life and his love to his work and not to you. he treated you as secondary in his life when you once were his reason to smile, to laugh, to love. you simply became small and insignificant as the jobs became big and powerful. you fought so hard for so many months to reason with him, make him understand how you were suffocating in a sea of loneliness while he continued to climb some invisible ladder to professional greatness. tangerine dismissed every argument claiming his professional pursuits were pertinent if "we want to live a good life".

each time you pleaded that you didn't need to live a life filled with financial security because, to you, tangerine was your security. any hardships you would face in life were manageable and could be overcome, as long as he stuck by your side. for tangerine, love wasn't enough.

so for months now you lived two separate lives. existing on two completely different orbits, the distance between you growing into lightyears. quiet walls, empty chairs, unmoved bed sheets, single-serving dinners. the wood floors of your home turning into a battlefield of quiet resentment and unmet expectations.

you stood, the sound of your bones cracking into place bouncing off the walls. you stepped behind the couch tangerine occupied and peered at his phone. his thumb scrolling through a long email chain of what could only be work. you placed your hand on the doorknob, opened the door and waited a few minutes to see if he would turn his head. when he didn't, you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, slipped the silver ring off your left-hand ring finger, and walked away.

[slut-f0r-u]

Scared- Tangerine x reader

A/N This is very heavily inspired by The 30th, By Billie Eilish. Tangerine survives, not proofread

Pairings: Tangerine x fem!reader , Tangerine x Lemon!platonic, Lemon x reader!platonic

Summary:Tangerine got shot on the bullet train.

Warnings:angst, mentions of shooting,blood, crying, slight memory loss, ambulances,hospitals, cussing etc

She was scared. She had every right to be. Tangerine had just got shot in the fucking neck and almost bled out on a stupid bullet train. She was scared that he was never gonna wake up from the induced coma. That the last memories she had of him were either him bleeding to death or in a hospital bed. She didn't know what she would do if Tangerine died. He meant the world to her and if he died a part of her would too.

While she waited for him to wake up, she carefully studied his features. He looked different from before the accident, a large scar on his throat, he was much Skinner, his eyes seemed to have sunken in. All things that she wouldn't have noticed if she wasn't always staring at his gorgeous face. But every now ans then he looked a little more lively. Like he was telling her not to give up hope or reminding her of his former self.

Lemon kept her company while she waited. They spoke about all aspects of life, dreams, desires, and they became even closer to each other than before the accident. Tangerine may have been her boyfriend but Lemon will always hold a special, platonic place in her heart. They once even shared their love for trains and Thomas the Tank Engine. But they weren't sure if they were still fans.

Once tangerine woke up he was different. No longer his loud, charming, hot headed self. But a quieter more anxious version of himself. Like he was waiting for someone to come finfih the job. He made a habit of staring into space and not acknowledging anyone in the room. He was traumatised and it was hard to believe that he didn't remember it. You and Lemon managed to squeeze in the back of the ambulance on the was to the hospital and he woke up on the drive there dazed and in pain but slowly started to put the pieces together.

He doesn't remember calling out to you desperately and in a panic. Wanting to just hold your hand. So you did. You held his hand even when the paramedics told you not to. You told him even covered in blood he looked so pretty.

You rember him telling you that he was scared. Scared he wasn't going to live. That he wasn't going to see Lemon again and worst of all he wouldn't be able to see her. The love of his life. His sun, moon and stars. His soon to be fiance. His girl.

He was traumatised and so were you. You watched him get shot, watched him bleed. Experienced the panic when people wouldn't pull over to let the ambulance through.

You couldn't help but wonder what if it happened on a different day, on a bridge where there wasn't a way to get out? What if he was alone with no one to save him? What if no one knew where he was? What if the bullet went though his thoat just a millimetre to the right? What if things turned out differently? What would happen?

But you were lucky. Things didn't happen differently tangerine was alive and getting better. You were alive. Lemon was alive. Everything would be normal again

Comment if you want Part 2!

[kidelune]

I had a nightmare with you again. Or maybe just your face from a past life. Sometimes I wonder if I'm mixing up these versions of you, so remind me which one is real.

Antiseptics and citrus get along like oil and water, incompatible in such a way that mimics a foot on the throat. The clock on the otherwise empty wall ticks slowly past an hour late, or maybe it's his phone that's set an hour too early, as visiting hours have far been passed beyond general toleration. The curtains embrace what can only be afterthoughts of early evening behind them, written poems by jaded rays and lazy specks of starlight.

Kijun sits in the room's furthest corner, haunting the old shadows and detritus of disease and pain in red leather and Gucci pour homme. The unfortunate chair has been sweating his back, and his hands are busy, wristwatch telling the approach of something like arrest. Wenhan's basket of fresh tangerines weighs his lap, reminding him of where he is every time he digs up another victim that'll further colour his cuticles yellow.

He'd been peeling through it for what he would guess is half an hour, waiting for Wenhan to wake, or for the heart monitor to hit a spike before flatlining. Either or would be fine; the skinned tangerines would testify in favour of his liability. Lives and deaths of bastards were not in his hands anymore. Nothing really ever was.

A raging maelstrom has been unfurling beneath those eyelids, though Kijun sees none of it beyond rotan and scuffed white sneakers. But the heart is the most flawed of all organs; no matter the man or his relationship with his nightmares, it could divulge any barricaded secret had it a tool for conversation. Like a ghost rapping within the walls, Wenhan's heartrate fluctuates on listening ears.

There's a name in the rhythm of it, a lie. Then he wakes, nirvana a far cry from those eyes, and Kijun has to pretend he can't tell. Tangerine juice trickles to his wrist, ice cold against his beating blood and Wenhan's rasp.

"I'm pleased to antagonize your consciousness even in REM state, like your own manic pixie paralysis demon." He says in seamless mandarin, just after a long pause. "Next time, I'm sitting directly on top of your chest, and will count how many seconds it'll take for you to asphyxiate. I hope you can swim."

Emerging from silence with sticky, orange-dyed palms and a humourless stare, he offers the devastation of being perceived to two waking palms. Drawing the chair to the bedside forces him to acknowledge his bleeding lip, the slight tremor in a grip that nearly fails once on the chair's arm. It's been far too long since he smoked last, maybe an hour or two. It makes him look wild and aware, a sleepless animal in red.

Like the abandoned citrus, Wenhan becomes the pack of Marlboro in his jacket pocket. His sleepy drawls and how he smells increasingly of ire and antibacterial as he shifts into seating arrest haywire nerves, each breath a drag. Kijun scoffs once seated, as if it were all inconsequential.

"What does it matter which one is real if they're all me in the end? You said it yourself, they're versions of me, and I say they're still me in spite of that." He turns to pour water from the canteen, thickly swigs the first dreg then offers the second glass to Wenhan. "In my head, it doesn't really matter which angle you look up to me from, as every face you'll find will be mine anyway. All of 'em are real."

The sun is setting with unapologetic hues of violet and rose and though the curtains absorb most of the onslaught, some shades manage still to slip through the cracks and turn dark eyes into a reflecting pool. When they sit still for long enough, Kijun can see himself reach for Wenhan's hand as the glass grows empty at his request. The whiff of citrus slips across tan, threadbare fingers that remind him of rare summer colds.

He presses the ugly scar in his palm flush against Wenhan's pulse, like a priest would thumb your forehead in front of Jesus. Except there's nothing ceremonious about it. Only nurture, and lies. "I'll feign chivalry for charity, though, for your eagerness. I know bullet wounds aren't fun recovery."

Then, as casually as waxing the weather poetic, Kijun takes two of Wenhan's digits and cracks them backwards. Flesh and bone stretched so completely out of bounds they become limp. Red stains red. Red stains orange, and white and fading sunshine. Kijun's toes curl, as do the corners of his mouth. A smile that's always happened around dimples and freckles.

"Does that answer your question, darling?"

And then he's back in the farthest corner, basket in his lap and eyes downcast. There's a familiar hunger in his veins, the solution in his pocket, or stretched in slumber on the hospital sheets. None of the passing footsteps outside can smell what's about to happen; only the room smells like it knows. The memory tucked in a basket of tangerines he can tell were hand picked by someone who cares. They smear and dye, wet on his hands like a warning between his knuckles. Is this nightmare his, or is it Wenhan's?

[atlaese]

memories, sweet and tangy - m.m.

summary: matt lost you once before, but he won't let you go easily this time. pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader tw: fluff, mutual pining <33, mentions of food, reader skipped breakfast, tiny mention of drinking, awful lawyer talk from yours truly, matt thinking he doesn't deserve anything but he deserves the whole universe and then some 💗 words: 1.6k a/n: if someone didn't realize, i'm on a matt murdock high and i hope to never come off of it! i hope i do this complex character justice, because i absolutely adore just how many emotions he goes through and the depth of this character. anyways, enjoy!

p.s. i now have a library blog! go follow @aeristhotle and turn on notifs to get notified when i update!

reblogs and comments are appreciated ✨💗

MATT MURDOCK MASTERLIST | MARVEL MASTERLISTS

Matt had smelled your scent way before he realized it was you who walked in the courtroom; the tinge of pheromones he used to encounter daily, mixed with the perfume that you had been wearing since the age of 21.

It had been a few years though, since he last smelled that certain mix of scents he associated with you. After spending four years in law school together, you left for a big corporate job in the city, Matt opting to stay in Hell’s Kitchen to open his own practice with Foggy.

Those four years together had been pure bliss, if he was honest. Treading the fine line between lovers and friends, there were touches that lingered just too much to be considered polite and friendly. Matt couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times you had slept in his bed after going out, limbs tangled as your face was squished up against his chest, his hand softly caressing your head as he tried his best to control his battering heart. As if you’d ever wake up from the feeling of his racing heart under your cheek.

Those four years had ended bittersweet, though. Matt had wanted to ask you out — for real, too. He had it all planned out so meticulously, but then you got offered this big time job, taking you out to the city and away from him. It felt like the universe had something else planned for him, because how could he have a loved one? The universe just gave him another sign that he did not deserve the pure love that you would provide him with. Even the best attorney couldn’t argue with that.

But it hurt him more than he could ever admit. He had only just admitted to himself that he fell in love with you. It had taken him more time than he expected to get over you, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat still ingrained in his mind. He could read your heart beat as well as he could read braille — better even after he learned to read your other senses. Matt was able to tell how you felt during every waking moment — something he’d never take for granted.

And now here you were, strutting in the courtroom, high heels clicking as the session was about to start. There was a hint of tangerine lingering on your fingers, the tangy scent making him perk up as you were searching your bag for some files. You probably had been late — maybe your alarm hadn’t gone off or you had forgotten to pick up your favourite pantsuit from the dry cleaners — and now you had skipped breakfast, opting for a tangerine in the cab on the way over instead.

You were still you, even after all these years Matt could still pinpoint who you were at your core. You might have changed a little, grown up, grown into the confident woman you were now, maybe altered your appearance — were you wearing nailpolish now?

You took a seat just a row behind him in the public, probably waiting for when your case would start.

Should he turn around, act as if he had to get something out of his jacket that was hanging over the back of his chair? Should he—

“Matthew Murdock, speak of the devil,” your voice interrupted his raging thoughts. Matt quickly plastered a surprised look on his face as he turned his head to acknowledge your presence.

“Is it- Is that you?” he said, his dark glasses hiding knowing eyes as you tried to contain the surprised look on your face. It was New York after all, millions of souls running through the maze of buildings and parks like ants, what was the chance you’d run into each other? Was there some sort of red thread connecting the two of you in this labyrinth, a bond that made it destiny you’d meet once again?

“Hi Matt,” the words softly tumbled out of your mouth. “It’s been too long.”

It felt good to hear his name roll off your tongue again. There was still a kind of softness in your voice as you said it, so delicate and lovingly, even after all these years.

Was this the universe giving him a chance? Were the stars aligned just right at this exact moment where you and him were in the same room? Was the red yarn tightening after being loose and unmoving for the last few years?

“It has, I- how have you been?” he stumbled over his words, licking his lips as he tasted your scent that was now sticking to all his senses, sweet and tangy — you. If he wasn't in public, he might have sighed at the taste.

“I-I’m fine, actually, just going through the motions,” you said as your hand landed on his forearm. “How have you been? Still a Hell’s Kitchen boy through and through?”

How long had it been since you last touched? Was it the day you left, a big bag slung around your shoulder as you held onto him for dear life, promising to visit soon. Soon became when work is less busy and eventually it came to a single text message on each other's birthday.

“Yeah, I think I’ll always be,” he said, a certain weight behind his words, a passion and a deep fueled love for the neighbourhood he grew up in. “I’m good, actually, uhm, this case is actually a neighbour who was wrongfully convicted of extortion so, yeah.”

“Still a heart of gold and a wicked smile I see.”

“A deadly combination, I’m told,” he said, a radiant smile on display that few people get to see closely.

“You were always amazing at giving an exceptional defense,” you nodded, softly squeezing his arm. “Still remember your scrawny ass taking down that jock during mock trials. Look at you now.”

“If I remember correctly from mock trials, you deliver your deathblow during the closing statement,” Matt mused, his lips turning up into a delicious smile as the room was filling up with the last few people, the prosecutors taking a seat too.

The smile took over your whole face, stretched out the corners of your mouth as a soft giggle floated into the air, making the tips of his ears turn the tiniest bit red as he remembered all the other times you laughed at his jokes. Those times, buried deep inside his memories that were now coming up to the surface, gasping for fresh air after being submerged for more time than either of you wanted.

“If you don’t have anything planned after your case, I wouldn’t be opposed to you sitting in on mine,” you bit your lip, one corner of your lips still upturned as the room grew increasingly silent, awaiting the arrival of the judge. “Maybe we could get a drink after?”

“A coffee, ofcourse,” you hastily added, cheeks lightly warming up as Matt felt the blood rushing to your cheeks, too. “Uhm, too early to drink.”

“Of course,” he smirked, head dipping down as if to take the attention away from you stumbling over words and thoughts. That didn’t happen very often to you, especially not in the courtroom, your second home your coworkers would say. But when Matt Murdock was standing in front of you, his tie neatly tied, in a pure white dress shirt and a black jacket, it felt impossible not to stutter.

“I know a place,” he said after a few seconds of silence as he tried to read your feelings, one eyebrow cocked. “Great coffee and kind staff.”

Hearing your heartbeat again so close to him brought him back to the past, his memories of your soft breathing flooding his senses.

The judge was then escorted in, snapping Matt out of his stupor and everyone rose out of respect and silence falling over the room.

“It’s a date,” your whispers floated through the room, not disturbing the eerie quiet as the judge sat down, effectively opening the session.

“Mr. Murdock, you got anything for me?” the judge asked as Matt stood up.

Whilst buttoning his jacket, he turned a bit, facing you again with a content smile on his face as he raised his brows, his maroon sunglasses not fully revealing the content look that shone in his eyes at your statement.

Just before he walked off to start his plea, you whispered some final words of encouragement, “good luck, councilman.”

Matt detected the smallest amount of humour in your tone - you had called him councilman ever since the two of you started hanging out in law school. In return he called you bulldog — referring to you always hanging on to a case, always pushing through until you got what you wanted.

Not that Matt had needed it, but hearing those words back from you, made it all the easier to launch into his plea and make sure his client would be set free.

When Matt was talking, he'd sometimes zone in on your steady heartbeat, once again within reach of his senses as he felt himself calm down whenever the prosecutors would object or get him out of his flow.

In a few hours the red thread that hung loosely between the two of you would tighten ever so slightly, wrapping around the tight corners of Hell’s Kitchen and slowly wrapping around Matt’s heart too, mending the small tears you had left in your wake, all those years ago.

[bratdoll666]

Chapter 2: Professionals

Part 1 / wattpad

Note: This is the last chapter of just them on a job, I promise. The plot starts in the next chapter~

TW: violence, swearing, mentions of blood, death

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

"So for mom's birthday, I was thinking we should take her out to a nice, fancy restaurant. I was thinking Greek.", Lemon says to his brother who's leaning against the wall opposite of him, too occupied by his book to hear more than just the last word of that sentence.

"Greek.", Tangerine echoes absentmindedly, trying to re-read the sentence Lemon distracted him from.

"Yeah, the place around the corner from the house, remember? It got new owners and now it's like this rich people place."

Lowering his book, he looks at his brother, only now starting to engage in their conversation., "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"Mom's birthday", Lemon repeats. "We should take her out to dinner."

"Why doesn't she bake a cake or something and we gift her some shit she doesn't need anyways? That's tradition, innit?"

"Her oven's broken. Fuck, bruv. I told you this last week already. You never fucking listen."

"Oh yeah, I still wanted to tell you that I have a job next week so you'll have to send my regards to her. Save me a slice of cake.", Tangerine replies, proving the point that he, indeed, never fucking listened. Or maybe he was simply in an especially bickerish mood today.

There's a short pause in which Lemon contemplates going on a tension about how this is typical Gordon behavior but he decides against it. Instead, he just stares at his brother and says, "You forgot our mom's birthday."

"I just got a good job offer. Pay's well."

"You forgot our mom's birthday.", Lemon repeats, this time more slowly, almost as if he was speaking to a stubborn child. And sometimes talking to Tangerine, who would actively twist the narrative until he was no longer wrong, really felt that way.

Tangerine opens his mouth in protest but when he sees that Lemon wouldn't be backing down from this, he simply lets out a huff. Lemon would let a lot of things slide with him but when it got to their mother, there really was no budging.

"Okay, maybe I got the dates mixed up. ", he finally half-admits to being wrong. "It's not like it's always been on the same day."

Sitting in the corner, completely neglected by the both of them, their target is tied to a heater. The twins had been tasked to simply abduct the guy and hold him in a place until he got picked up by whoever. It didn't really matter. But whoever was supposed to pick him up was sure taking their sweet time and it got to the point where they weren't even acknowledging him anymore for the sake of bickering with each other. Only when the guy lets out a groan do both of their heads spin around to look at him.

"Oh, no. Don't mind me. Just good old me waiting to be executed, that's all.", the man says trying to sound indifferent, waving his free hand casually in their direction.

"If that's all...", Tangerine says under his breath, turning back to Lemon to continue their senseless arguing but this time he's the one to be neglected.

"They're not gonna execute you, man.", Lemon says and for some reason, it almost sounds like he's consoling the man. "They would've paid us to do that. Trust me, you're fine."

He shoots a look at Tangerine, thinking his brother might have something reassuring to say but is only met with an expression that he's definitely seen before. It was a well-stirred mixture of anger, confusion, and utter disappointment that Tangerine usually portrayed whenever Lemon did a no-no so big he couldn't even believe it at first. As per usual, this expression directly translated to: You didn't read the briefing I sent you.

A gunshot cuts their interaction short and the man who had seemed almost hopeful just a second ago was now as executed as humanly possible. It was quite the comedic timing but neither of the twins could get himself to find the humor in it.

A group of men makes their way into the room and while one of them approaches the twins, the rest already begin to clean up the mess. He puts his gun back into the holster that's conveniently hidden by his jacket and starts talking.

"Sorry for the delay, there was a traffic jam. I know, not very professional of us but's what we hired you two for, eh?.", he says and they simply nod in agreement. "So. The payment went into your account and boy, that number sure made me rethink my career."

They all chuckle at that, more for the sake of maintaining good business relations, rather than because the man had actually said anything remotely funny. A handshake from Tangerine and a "good luck" from Lemon later, the two of them are on their way back home. Only when they're sure they're out of earshot, does Tangerine speak up again.

"You really thought that they'd pay people like us to go get this guy just so they could all have a wee little chatter?", he asks, shaking his head at his brother in disappointment but not surprise. "That's the biggest load of bullocks I've heard in a minute."

Tangerine lights himself a cigarette to calm his nerves a bit before rehashing the info from the briefing. And, as if trying to prove how well prepared he himself was, he does so in great detail. The guy they had abducted or the delivery, as Tangerine charmingly put it, had basically been lurking around some mob boss's daughter, putting some lullabies into her ear about how they should run away together. But not before doing some shopping in daddy's safe, of course. That had been some years ago and now intel that had been in the safe suddenly started popping up here and there.

"The reason we were hired-", Tangerine says, finally getting to the point of his entire monologue, "- is because they had no idea where to even start looking for the bloke. They wanted him dead but couldn't get to him, so instead, they hired some professionals to get him to them. They wanted to take him out themselves and we offer delivery based on the contract. End of story."

"That guy was a Diesel then.", Lemon concludes, grossly oversimplifying the story his brother had told him for the duration of his cigarette.

Tangerine sighs and flicks his cigarette into the street. "Shut up, Lem."

[eyesanddragons]

Whiteout for the opinion bingo ?

Oh Whiteout...A character I have...opinions about, that I will go into detail since man I have thoughts about how she's written

Whiteout is...weird, like narratively weird, Whiteout is a character who's maturity and agency is constantly being invalidated by others, Whiteout literally got mind controlled and had integral parts of her personhood deleted by her dad, her character SHOULD BE important in Arc 2's overall themes, those themes centering around control and the loss of it, Whiteout is a character marked by the lack of control, you know that scene where Whiteout goes, and I quote

"Oh, I thought the marbles represented chaos theory and I was just another unpredictable whim of the universe. I did not intend to disrupt your faith in controllable outcomes."

YEAH, THATS IMPORTANT! Because that's how Whiteout's life feels, an unpredictable whim of fate she cannot disrupt. EXCEPT WE DONT ACTUALLY HAVE THAT EXPLORED IN THE BOOKS.

Oh and also, yes I am aware of Whiteout's neurodivergent coding, I am neurodivergent, yes I am aware of the Troubling Implications of Whiteout's Lack Of Control, I don't think its inherently (I REPEAT THE INHRENTLY PART) a bad thing because under this lens, the lack of agency and the infantilization is (sort of in canon) treated as a bad thing, cause it is.

My issue with Whiteout is that the lack of control is ironically, not touched on by the narrative, we never get to see how Whiteout truly feels about the way fate drags her through life, in fact, Tui states in the Biohazardia interview that Whiteout "got to live happily ever after" which is strange to me, and look its not that I don't want Whiteout to get a good ending, its that Tui just, doesn't seem concerned about how Whiteout felt about her brother, or what her dad did to her, or her mom, or the constant bullying she received, we don't get an acknowledgement of it in the later parts of Arc 2, heck I cant remember a time Whiteout is mentioned even though the way Darkstalker treats her is really more indicative of how Darkstalker acts than how he acts with anyone else in the series, Darkstalker (at the end of his book) treats Whiteout as a child, he's superseding her own agency and wants because he thinks he knows what's best for her, when she doesn't want it, and look, morality about Arctic's death aside, the point is that Whiteout didn't want Arctic to die, is this used to further the really bad "Good Victim Bad Victims" narrative WoF has...yes, is this also a good example of how Darkstalker acts and the greater themes of the Arc? YES! Whiteout didn't want Darkstalker to kill her father, but Darkstalker did it anyway, because that was what was best for the both of them, at least that's what he thought.

But, Whiteout's life has been constantly marked by scenarios like those, situations where her own wants come secondary to everyone elses, where she gets played by fate.

And after that she doesn't even get asked about what to do with her brother, just told to leave.

Whiteout is a tragedy dammit and I am upset she isn't treated with the respect and narrative weight she deserves. Anyway, unrelated to the tragedy that is not having control over your life the line "Tangerine, Possibility, Spelunking." is often taken as a prophecy (And it's not like it cant be) but Thoughtful was like "YOU GOT IT!" so I googled tangerine symbolism and apparently they can symbolize new prospects and joy, thus the quote can roughly mean "The joy that comes from finding new dreams and the possibility of new knowledge" (since the piece is called "Cascade of Dreams" and there's a scroll in the waves) so I'm choosing the believe that Whiteout knew that and just assumed everyone knew and Thoughtful somehow also knew tangerine symbolism.

Im stopping here cause Im tired, Ive been writing this for 2 hours and rewrote it multiple times, Whiteout gives me thoughts

[yemilnisu]

CONVENIENCE STORE

Synopsis: as kageyama was looking for the milk he was craving for, he came across a lovely convenience store owned who other than you.

Pairing: kageyama x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1.3K

nisu entries:

a short and kinda rushed fanfic for the birthday boy! happy birthday, kageyama tobio!🥛♥️ i apologize if it’s too short🥴

Kageyama groaned in frustration as he noticed that the milk he was looking for was not in the fridge. With a glum look on his face, he walked out of the store and looked for a different store that may sell the milk he was craving.

He noticed an average-sized store and made his way there. He walked past this store a couple of times but never really visited it, being that the store he would regularly buy his necessities have everything he needs.

The setter had to admit that the interior was quite lovely, no wonder this was well-known between his schoolmates and a few people were inside.

Kageyama noticed a guy in front of the cashier and concluded that the fellow must be a regular customer since he was chatting with the female behind the counter. He didn't bother knowing who was who because that was not the reason he was there.

His dark blue eyes met a stock of milk carton he was looking for. He eagerly grabbed four of them and made a mental note that this store has plenty of them.

As he placed the items on the counter to pay for them. He met the sparkling eyes of the young lady in front of him. "You're Kageyama, right? Kageyama Tobio," she exclaimed. Flashing the sweetest smile the boy has ever seen.

He merely nodded before the girl starts rambling, "Oh, my gosh! Kageyama Tobio is in our shop! You're a member of Karasuno's boys' volleyball club, right? I've watched your matches! You guys were amazing! Oh, no. I'm so sorry for babbling!"

"No, no. It's fine," he chuckled. Normally, he would either try to stop the person from babbling or cut them off saying he needs to do other stuff but this time he wanted to hear it, he wanted to hear your rambles.

"I got a little excited," you giggled. "By the way, I'm Y/n. I don't know if you have heard of me but I'm from class 5," you stated as you gave him the plastic bag which contains the cartons of milk he purchased.

"Class 5? Then you must be smart," he mused, giving you the payment.

"Oh, no. I'm not," you wheezed. "Believe me, I don't even know how I got there," you confessed.

"I should probably get going," Kageyama stated as he glanced behind him. The next person in line was profusely glaring at him. He took a sip from the carton box and peered in your direction before leaving the store.

"Excuse me, do you know where Yachi is?" Hinata asked as a student from class 5 walked out of the room. "They don't know where's Yachi. I told you we'll start studying after practice or tomorrow," he complained. The guy in front of him didn't make any remark because his eyes were wandering everywhere like its looking for someone. "I told you she's not inside the classroom."

"Hmm," Kageyama hummed not paying attention to what the tangerine was saying.

"Oi!" Hinata smacked him in the head.

The setter tried to remain calm by shutting his eyes close and slowly turning his way to the middle blocker. "Do that again. I dare you," he smiled but his eyes say otherwise. The oblivious middle blocker did hit him again. "Why you, little!"

Hinata was quick on his feet and was able to dodge when Kageyama tried to hit him. He ran away as fast as he could from his scary teammate, running past the students that were in the hallway.

As Hinata swerved to the corner, Kageyama did too, he swerved to the side when a student walked out of the corner, but little did he know that there was another person that also walk out the corner. When he finally saw the girl, it was too late. They already collided with each other and fell on the floor.

Kageyama was on top of the girl and before making it awkward he quickly gets up. "I'm so sorry!" he apologized. He reached his hand out to help her stand up. "Y/n! I'm so sorry," and even a large amount of regret swallowing him when he found out who the person he bumped to.

"Ouch," you softly whimper.

"Bring her to the clinic, Kageyama!" Hinata shouted.

Kageyama being in a panic estate dragged you along the corridor and brought you to the clinic. The school's doctor checked you up and after knowing that you were alright, he scolds the first years, saying that it was dangerous to suddenly make you stand up after you just hit your head. Lucky for them the impact was not that strong so you were fine.

"No. You don't have to walk me home. Didn't the doctor said that I was fine, besides don't you have practice?" you said stopping the fellow in front of you from carrying your backpack.

"Yes, he did, but he also said to take primarily precaution," he acknowledged, successfully stealing the bag from your grasp. "I do, but it's not like Daichi-san will let me practice if I didn't walk you home," he sighed.

He remembered how Daichi wouldn't even let him take one step into the gym. He didn't know how the captain knew the incident, but he probably heard it from the other students since rumors can easily spread inside Karasuno, likewise the vice principal's wig incident.

Kageyama thought that maybe Hinata told Daichi but he quickly scratched the thought off since if the latter did he will also be walking you home because he was the one Kageyma was chasing.

"Oh, no. Did I get you in trouble? I'll go talk to Daichi-san, right now!" you affirmed. You were already making your way to the volleyball gym but you soon come to a halt, when Kageyama held your wrist and dragged you out of the school premises.

"Let's just get you home," he sternly said. You gave in and led the way to your house.

"So this is my house. If you hurry, I think you can still catch up to your practice," you advised.

"Y/n-chan~" a female voice called out then the door opened. "Oh, who's this friend of yours. Wait, you're the cute customer that would always go to the store to either buy milk or yogurt and would stay for a while," she divulged.

You took notice of Kageyama's cheeks, it had a hue of pink and you took this as he was embarrassed. "He's a friend of mine. Can you wait inside, thanks!" you shoved your sister back inside and slamming the door shut before she can complain.

"Sorry, that was my older sister. She can be quite talkative sometimes," you admitted. "Uh, I didn't know you would regularly come to the shop."

You thought that the time he went there was a one-time thing since his house and the store was a few blocks away. Also, the fact that there's a closer convenience store around their block.

"Uh, yeah. The, uh, the convenience store I would normally go to doesn't sell the milk I want," he stuttered. He didn't know why he felt a bit embarrassed telling you that he's practically obsessed with dairy products.

"Are you talking about the milk you bought that day?" you asked. You were talking about the day you met him at the store.

"Yeah," he shyly replied.

"I could just deliver one when were at school, so you don't have to walk all the way here. Just tell me when you want one," you offered.

"It's fine. You don't have to. Besides, this is my route every time I jog so it's not a bother plus I like visiting your store," he complimented. He found it weird how he could casually compliment you since he wasn't the type to give compliments daily.

"Aww! Thanks, I'm glad you liked the store. My mom let me and my sister design it. But seriously, I don't mind delivering some milk to you at school," you thought that maybe he was shy to make you deliver milk to him so you insisted once more because it was obvious how he likes those dairy products.

"If you insist, deliver one every day."

[ashraful090]

The 60 Best Watches for Men 2020

The Esquire editors pick their favourite new and upcoming watches from big Swiss brands and under-the-radar newbies.The Esquire editors pick their favourite new and upcoming watches, including launches from Breitling, Audemars Piguet, Omega and Cartier.So named after the British explorer who discovered New Zealand, Rado's Captain Cook was first brought to life in the Sixties, and not aboard the ships of ponytailed colonists. And now, the archival piece is available in the enduring case material du jour – bronze – with a punchy forest green dial.

It's another set of features that sets the dive watch apart, and one that'll keep the Captain Cook in the good books: upon its release, Rado's dive watch was largely seen as one of the best in class. That hasn't changed much. And now, you can even get it on a Nato strap..It is a crying shame that Tag Heuer's Monaco – a watch that paid homage to the race track of Le Mans – was decommissioned for around 20 years. But following a re-release in 1998, it's slowly become one of the marque's marquee pieces. In 2020, they've managed to improve it still.

As part of a trio that made slight amendments to the current Monaco model, a black dial on black leather is as close to dress watch territory as a racing watch can park and better yet, the in-house Heuer 02 movement has enough juice for over 80 hours of action.Once upon a time, the industry wasn't centred in Switzerland. American manufacturing had a stake in the watch business too, rigging small town Main Street aesthetics with big impressive movements. Hamilton was at the forefront.

Now, it's re-released a 1968 archival piece for 2020. It's got impressive Swiss innards these days, yes, but in terms of what's on the outside, very little has changed. And that's a good thing. For all the opulence and extravagance of a diamond-laden automatic from the Jura, there's as much charm in an 'aw shucks' midwestern sensibility.A Rolex on the wrist is a serious investment. And thus, a serious watch. Though for all the commanding Wall Street presence of a big Day-Date, the industry's biggest marque is releasing watches that are a bit fun, a little bit more playful – watches just like the new Oyster Perpetual 36.

Quietly released just a few months ago, a tangerine dial on stainless steel is the off-duty Rolex collectors have long dreamt about, and better yet, it's no solo act: the Oyster Perpetual 36 sits within a larger collection of five watches in shades of candyfloss pink, forest green, sky blue and blood red.A Lange & Söhne is a connoisseur's watch brand. That's why it uses terms like 'rattrapante', confident that its clientele will know that it refers to a double chronograph that can record multiple time intervals at the same time. Taken from the French for 'catch up', it's a proper horologist's complication, the driving watch equivalent of a 600bhp V8 under the bonnet. And in the skilful hands of A Lange & Söhne, a piece of practical watchmaking becomes pure artistry, courtesy of a gold alloy that's said to be "considerably harder than platinum". We'll take their word for that.Without the deep blue sea, Oris wouldn't be able to make its big bold dive watches. And as such, the Swiss marque has a good habit of giving back to subaqueous charities. For its latest gesture: the Oris Hangang Limited Edition.

Released in tandem with the Korea Foundation for Environmental Movement, the Hangang Limited Edition siphons a section of its profits to a clean-up operation on the river of the same name – South Korea's second longest in fact. The piece is also as good as its intentions, with an automatic movement powering an emerald dial (inspired by the creeks of the Hangang's source) with an engraved caseback depicting the river's path across Korea.As one of the oldest watch marques in the whole wide world (if not the oldest, but that's up for debate), Vacheron Constantin is on the top shelf of Swiss watches. That's because they're known for wholly classic, hi-spec pieces. But that doesn't mean they're averse to New Things, though.

Case in point: the Overseas Self-Winding in pink gold. While previously gilding other models in rose gold, pink gold is defined by a smaller copper content, giving it a lighter blush and a subtle newness to the Overseas model. Factor in an impressive movement too (the splendid in-house caliber 5100) and here's a watch that plays to the well-worn strengths of Vacheron Constantin.

01

Apple Cyber Week deals: MacBook, Apple Watch, AirPods, more

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02

Apple Watch May Gain Breakthrough Health Feature, Patent Hints

Apple Watch Series 6 measures blood oxygen levels - will a future model monitor blood pressure, too? ... [+]

Apple

Since the first Apple Watch was launched, health and fitness have been front-and-center. So, the latest patents suggest a whole new capability may be about to be added: continuous blood pressure monitoring.

MORE FROM FORBESApple Reveals Its Highly-Anticipated Apple Watch Upgrade Is Almost HereBy David Phelan

Two patents have just been made public, as seen on Patently Apple, which indicate that Apple is working on adding this to the raft of features already on its smartwatches. The latest model, Apple Watch Series 6, measures blood oxygen level and can look out for atrial fibrillation and take an ECG reading. Several Apple Watches alert users if their heart rate is unusually high or low, offer sleep tracking and have a neat stress-reduction app called Breathe.

So, blood pressure monitoring would be a great next step. It wouldn’t quite be a first – Samsung has this feature in some of its smartwatches, but it has yet to be deployed conveniently or widely and requires calibration using a separate, standalone blood pressure monitor on a monthly basis.

The new arrivals are what are called continuation patents, which means the new ones are related to previous blood pressure monitoring patents which date as far back as 2014. In other words, Apple has been investigating this for quite some time.

The titles are, as is usual with this kind of thing, really catchy: "Electrical Coupling of Pulse Transit Time (PTT) Measurement System to Heart for Blood Pressure Measurement." Sounds like a real page-turner, no?

Some details of how the blood pressure monitoring might work on a future Apple Watch.

USPTO

The purpose of the patents is more interesting, including a focus on providing a continuous measurement in a non-invasive way, though the patents also suggest that two sensors will be required, only one of which would be the Apple Watch, with the other described merely as an electrode. The two together would be used so they are “processing the voltage levels to detect when a volume of blood is ejected from the left ventricle; processing output from a pulse arrival sensor coupled to the wrist-worn device to detect when a blood pressure pulse generated by ejection of the volume of blood from the left ventricle arrives at the wrist; calculating a pulse transit time (PTT) for transit of the blood pressure pulse from the left ventricle to the wrist; and determining one or more blood pressure values for the subject based on the PTT.”

All clear?

Well, that’s the point of these patents, to reveal enough for Apple to own the innovation without pinning things down too much.

MORE FROM FORBESApple Watch Series 7 To Have Innovative Features, Upgraded Design, Insider SaysBy David Phelan

Will the final feature, if it ever comes to fruition, involve multiple sensors, or could it, like the ECG feature in the Apple Watch, simply require a circle to be completed by the user touching a sensor in the digital crown with one hand while the sensor on the back of the Watch makes contact with the opposite arm?

The fact that Apple is considering multiple sensors reveals that this is a more complex operation going on here.

When will we see blood pressure monitoring in the Apple Watch? As with all patent applications, it’s impossible to say when, or even if, it will develop into a Watch feature.

But the fact that Apple has been working on patents in this area since 2014 tells you it’s put considerable resources into making it happen and the time could indicate that it will be in an Apple Watch sooner rather than later. As soon as Apple Watch Series 7, expected next Fall? Watch this space.

Follow me on Instagram by clicking here: davidphelantech and Twitter: @davidphelan2009

MORE FROM FORBESApple MacBook Air 2020 Review: Really, Who Needs The Pro?By David Phelan

03

The best Cyber Monday Apple Watch deals still available include $50 off the Series 6 and $20 off the SE

When you buy through our links, we may earn money from our affiliate partners. Learn more.

• Cyber Monday 2020 Apple deals are still live, bringing some of the best prices of the year for highly coveted tech products like Apple Watches and AirPods.

• The $400 Apple Watch Series 6, released in September 2020, is $50 off at Amazon, Best Buy, Walmart and Target, while the $280 Apple Watch SE is down $20.

• Stores are offering deals on older Apple Watches, too, including $100 to $200 off the Apple Watch Series 5 at Best Buy, and $50 off the Apple Watch Series 3 at Target.

• Here are the best Cyber Monday deals we're tracking across the internet, all-day, every day.

The Apple Watch is the top smartwatch for iPhone users, combining heath and fitness tracking features with style and design. The latest wearrable tech can be expensive, but Cyber Monday has delivered deals on the newly released Apple Watch Series 6, along with older Apple Watch models, at multiple retailers.

Amazon, Best Buy, Walmart, and Target have been offering discounts of $50 to $200 off the Apple Watch since Thanksgiving and Black Friday , and Cyber Monday might be the last chance to claim these deals during the 2020 holiday season.

If you're not sure which Apple Watch is best for you, we've broken down the features for each model in our Apple Watch buying guide, and reviewed each model separately. Business Insider's Apple reporter Lisa Eadiccio said the $280 Apple Watch SE is the best choice for most prospective buyers.

It's important to note that some color options and sizes have varying deals. We try to point out the best deals, but a color or size option you want may not be as low.

Apple's top $400 Series 6 model with all the bells and whistles is getting a $50 discount at the moment. It includes a fast processor inside and a new blood-oxygen sensor. This measures SpO2 levels to track your overall respiratory and cardiac health alongside the usual array of health and fitness tracking sensors and features.

You can read our full Apple Watch Series 6 review here.

If you're willing to buy a slightly older Apple Watch model for a deep discount, Best Buy is offering $100 off the standard Apple Watch Series 5 (now $329) and $200 off the version that uses mobile data (now $449).

The Series 5 is a model that Apple doesn't sell anymore, but it's still a great buy if you can get it for less than the Series 6. It's similar to the cheaper Apple Watch SE, but with an always-on display and advanced health capabilities like ECG monitoring that the SE doesn't.

But, you can easily argue that you don't really need the Series 5 or Series 4, as the more recent Apple Watch SE has similar specs and features, and its $280 retail price is already lower. Add in the $20 off deal we're seeing right now for Cyber Monday, and the SE becomes even more tempting.

You can read our full Apple Watch SE review here.

The Apple Watch SE is the perfect blend of features and affordability. This recently released Apple Watch is selling for $20 less than its usual price — which was already a bargain for all it offers.

And, if you're avoiding big price tags and looking for the core Apple Watch experience, the Apple Watch Series 3 will suit most people just fine. For a $200 retail price, it's already a good option for budget-conscious buyers. An extra $50 off sweetens the deal even further.

You can read our full Apple Watch Series 3 review here.

The Apple Watch Series 3 in aluminum is the perfect blend of style and functionality for an excellent price.

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Disclosure: This post is brought to you by the Insider Reviews team. We highlight products and services you might find interesting. If you buy them, we get a small share of the revenue from the sale from our commerce partners. We frequently receive products free of charge from manufacturers to test. This does not drive our decision as to whether or not a product is featured or recommended. We operate independently from our advertising sales team. We welcome your feedback. Email us at

[kangjaehyun]

The Christmas Chronicles: Episode I

For Seokjin, Christmas holidays are synonymous with constant back-and-forth traveling, last minute shopping, the festive aroma of freshly-baked goods, booming laughter and warmth, and his mother's half-yearly attempt at taking the matters in her own hands to play the wingwoman for him.

He doesn't remember a single Christmas holiday after his fourth year—or what his mother affectionately likes to dub as coming-of-age year—that he could spend peacefully. According to Joohyun Kim, Seokjin's spontaneity directly translates to indecisiveness and a constant dilemma over what he wants to achieve in life. It is frustrating to say the least, really.

So, when she excuses herself in hopes to steal him away from his clique of friends, Seokjin is quick to understand her intent.

“𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵—” He starts, but before he can say anything in retaliation, she wraps her hand around his arm and raises a finger at him.

“Oh, don't give me that look. Just meet her once and you'll see what I'm talking about—”

“I don't want to meet anyone, mum,” he murmurs in a low grumble, like he is already tired of the conversation despite it beginning not even a minute ago. “Why can't you just leave me be?”

“Oh, hush,” his mother shushes him, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Merlin knows how disastrous you'd be if you're left to your wits to fend for yourself.”

“That's 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘭𝘺 an excuse to—”

“—You brought 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 stray kittens home last year just because—”

“Those babies were 𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥,” Seokjin reasons, emphatically. “And adorable.”

The middle-aged woman turns to him with a sigh, long-suffering, and he can tell she is exasperated by the way her breath crackles. She makes a faintly disparaging clucking noise, like she's planning to argue with him some but holds it back, saying, “Come on now. Remember Eric's youngest daughter? The one who was transferred to Beauxbatons in her fourth year after he got himself a posting in France? She is your age now. Expensive education, high ambitions. Beautiful, passionate, soft-spoken...”

As she drones on and on, Seokjin tunes her out, putting on a smile to hide his exasperated expression as he gets dragged across to the room to meet what he knows for a fact would be the reason for his premature death.

“Remember to behave,” she whispers conspiratorially to him, just before tapping on the shoulder of a slender, unknowing girl clad in a white dress, making her turn around.

“Yes? Did you want something, aunt Joohyun?” The girl asks, with a smile, as she stands up straight and throws her shoulders back. She's holding an empty wine glass in an immaculately manicured hand, with short, glossy, pearl-pink nails. She has a tinkling charm bracelet dangling from her slender wrist, and the barest hint of sleek, curly light-brown hair tumbles forward from her loose ponytail as she glances at him for the briefest of moments.

She is a neat girl. Pretty—dare he say—but, well...

“Lisa,” Joohyun says, affectionately, beaming. “I want you to meet my son, Seokjin. He is currently enrolled in Hogwarts, studying in his sixth year—just a year away from graduating, actually.” She then turns to face Seokjin, saying, “Remember Lisa Robinson? She used to play with you when you both were kids. Ah, good times. I think you'll find you both have a lot in common.”

“Hi,” Seokjin says silkily, smile too bold and well-practised as he extends his hand for a shake. Lisa accepts it, not missing a beat.

“Hello,” she says, the faintest of pink appearing on her high cheekbones.

“Oh,” Joohyun says, dramatically, and Seokjin tries not to roll her eyes at her theatrics. He knows his mother too well to know that she would be thinking of an excuse to leave them alone to socialize. “I think I forgot to check the stove—don't want to serve the guests burnt treats on a lovely occasion—you both enjoy yourselves, okay?”

And before Seokjin can say anything, she has already jostled her way past the mingling guests in the warmth of their parlour.

Imagining multiple ways of staging his own death, he turns to the girl with a smile, trying to think of ways to make the awkward silence go away. Fortunately for him, Lisa spares him the embarrassment and beats him to it.

“I like your shirt,” she says, conversationally, as though she has barely stopped herself from commenting on the weather as a way of staring the small-talk. Talk about white Britishers and their awkward conversation starters. “Orange is my favourite colour.”

“Thanks,” Seokjin says, with an edge to his tone, glancing down at his feet before he looks up with a nonchalant shrug. His biceps bulge as he raises an arm to scratch at his nape. “This is actually tangerine.”

“Oh,” she murmurs awkwardly. “Alright.”

Seokjin catches himself just in time before he can mumble an apology. As a gentleman, he is not used to being dismissive, but he figures this is the only way he can make her dislike him in some way and help him plan his own escape.

“What are your interests?” she asks him. “Aunt Joohyun mentioned we have similar interests, so... I take that sommeliering interests you, too?”

“Sorry?”

“Sommeliering. Studying the different varieties of tea,” she explains, gesturing around with her free hand.

“Ah, no. I play Quidditch,” he says in a voice he hopes does not give away his discomfort, with a shake of his head. His face is deliberately neutral as he shoves his hands inside the pockets of his trousers. “And I have an interest in something along the lines of curse breaking. Tea, though?”

“Yes, that's one of my elective courses,” she says, with a small laugh. “I want to open open a tea shoppe outlet one day. Sommeliering is fascinating, you know? There are so many varieties to study. Oolong tea, earl grey, chamomile tea...”

As she blabbers on and on about her specialization, Seokjin zones out of the conversation, looking desperately around the room at the merrymakers. He has to find a way to tell his parents about his long-found epiphany — and soon.

It is not that he is actually too scared of it. After all, they are liberal-minded people, his parents. They have always taught him to accept diversity in all forms and love himself for who he is. This really shouldn't be that hard.

“—you think?”

Seokjin makes a distracted sound, turning back to Lisa with a blink, staring back, until her smile fades. “Ah, yes? You were saying?”

“Do you drink tea?”

“No, actually I'm an alcoholic,” he answers, with a simpering smile. No, he isn't, but 𝘴𝘩𝘦 doesn't need to know that.

“I'm—excuse me?”

“I can't sleep at night if I don't get drunk. Cannabis are a great help at times, too,” he explains, swiftly. “Actually, I'll just go get myself a beer or something. Do you want anything—”

“No, it's fine. I think I can help myself. Thanks,” she says, with a forceful smile, sniffing in what Seokjin assumes is disdain. He can imagine a plethora of rumours regarding him circulating amongst the guests in the room already, but he cannot really bring himself to care.

“Alright. Good talk,” Seokjin says, unable to stop himself from sounding rather relieved as he nods at her in acknowledgement and excuses himself. “See you then.”

He must talk to his parents tonight.