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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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Faith Is Believing What You Cannot See

Hal Jordan x AI!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.4K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: I had this idea late last night, but the conversation of religion between Hal and his father. If he followed in Martin's footsteps and became a pilot, did that mean that Hal followed in religion too, or did he just believe in a creator? In other words, reader helps Hal contemplate divine creation while mourning Martin Jordan. Enjoy! -Thorne

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He popped the beer tab and set the can down beside him before popping his own beer can, taking a sip from it. His eyes were directed upwards, gazing at the massive expanse of stars above him. He tried to remember some of the constellations that Ganthet had mentioned but nothing came to him. Here on Oa, it was so different from Earth. He could see planets and moons, stars he’d only dreamed about on his home planet.

And yet, all he could think about was Martin. Twenty-six years to the day that Hal Jordan had witnessed his father’s last day, his last flight. Twenty-six years ago, Hal Jordan watched the greatest man he ever knew die in a hail of flame and black smoke. Twenty-six years since Hal Jordan defined his life on a single moment. To be the most fearless man alive. The bravest.

Sighing heavily, he dropped his head between his cocked-up knees, resting his elbows atop his jeaned kneecaps. He missed his dad. He missed his family. He missed being a kid and skipping out on school to eat lunch with his dad after watching Martin fly all morning. He missed when life wasn’t so difficult. He missed—

“Lantern Hal?” He jerked up at the sound of the robotic tone. “Are you alright?”

Glancing behind him, he saw (Y/N) standing there, her hands clasped lowly behind her back, big glowing eyes observant; Hal could see the way the iris’ rotated with each flash-thought. “…Yeah, I’m fine, (Y/N).”

She walked over. “Your tone designates hesitation. Is there something bothering you?”

“No,” Hal murmured. “I’m just sitting out here and drinking.”

Her head cocked down. “There are two alcoholic drinks open. Are you consuming them both?”

He chuckled. “One’s for my dad.”

“Is he coming soon?” she craned her neck, and he watched the wires dance beneath her blueish flesh. “I can locate him if it is to your—”

“He’s not here, (Y/N).” Hal interrupted. “He’s dead.”

She blinked, gazing at him curiously. “If he is dead, why are you sharing a drink?”

“It’s a human tradition. When someone dies, you share a beer with them in remembrance.”

“Oh…so you are engaging in ritualistic practice?” she blinked again. “Should I leave?”

He didn’t exactly want to be surrounded by people, but at the same time, Hal didn’t want to be alone. “You can stay.”

(Y/N) took a seat beside him, sitting as properly as a humanoid robot could. “I am unfamiliar with the emotion of grief. May I ask you questions pertaining to the subject?”

“Uh, I guess.” Hal said, taking a sip of his beer.

“What does loss feel like?”

He paused, swirling the liquid between his cheeks before he swallowed and murmured, “It’s kinda like a wound that never really heals, it just scabs over and from time to time something comes along and rips it off and you feel the pain all over again. Just like it was the first time.”

“I cannot feel pain,” she acknowledged. “But your words have meaning. It would be similar to my processing units breaking down repeatedly without repair.”

Hal’s lips pulled in a satisfaction. “That sounds about right.”

(Y/N) looked at him. “When did your father die?”

He met her gaze. “When I was ten. He died in a plane crash…I witnessed it.”

“You were a child.” She noted. “Is this why you were driven to join the Armed Forces where you were able to fly aircraft?”

Hal nodded. “I lost dad when I was young and I…I never really remembered a lot about him.” he shrugged. “Flying was the way I could connect with him.”

“What was your father like?”

He chuckled. “A lady-killer who was damn good pilot and an even better husband and father.” Hal paused. “He was also Catholic.” A fond smile crossed his lips. “Never missed Mass.”

“Catholicism is a branch of Christianity.” (Y/N) said. “Do you share the same concept of religion?”

He tipped his head side to side. “I’m not really sure. Dad was Catholic. Mom was Jewish.”

“So, you are Jewish then?”

“N—no, not exactly, (Y/N).”

Her head cocked to the side. “Forgive me, I am confused. It makes sense to follow a religion of one parent. Which do you follow?”

Hal’s mouth opened, then it closed, and he finally reasoned, “It’s not so much following religion as it is believing in God to me.”

“…So, the denomination is not what is important to you, but merely the belief of a divine creator?”

“Yeah. That’s it.” He sighed. “I’ve attended religious ceremonies and prayers on both sides but every time I come back to religion, it’s more of where I stand with God then it does what denomination.”

(Y/N) nodded. “I see. That makes sense.”

He looked over. “It does?”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe?”

“No.”

That was a foolish question to ask a robot, he thought. “Sorry, I should’ve seen that coming.”

“How so?”

Hal shrugged. “I mean…you’re an AI. You’re not a human like me. No offense.”

“None has been taken.” (Y/N) smiled. “You are correct though. But my belief does not come from rejection of religion, but from education in the sciences.” She met his gaze. “I am an AI. I was created for a purpose and that purpose was to protect Oa. I discover and categorize life through science and observation, not through a personal doctrine of faith. Faith is not something I can comprehend.”

“Why’s that?”

“Faith is believing in what you cannot see. Though I have control over the evolution of my core programing, I cannot take action through faith. I cannot believe in what I cannot see nor process. Belief with no evidence is not factual. It is not quantifiable.”

Hal gazed at her for a few moments. “I guess that’s a fair way to look at it.”

“Do you have faith?” she questioned, and he nodded.

“I do. In myself. In my friends.” He nudged her in the hard side of her body. “In you.”

“I believe what you are describing is trust.”

“They’re synonymous,” he laughed, then looked to the sky. “I believe that my dad is around me a lot.”

“But he is dead.”

“He is. But his spirit is still here. I feel it.” Hal’s face was firm as was his voice. “I know my dad’s with me every time I fly.”

“And you take this on faith?” (Y/N) asked.

“I do.”

She observed him. “Was your father a faithful man? Did he believe in his faith?”

“I’d like to say he was and that he did.” He frowned slightly. “I miss him a lot.”

(Y/N) hummed, though it more so sounded like she was releasing warm air through the vents in her side. “Then I shall intrude on your memorial no longer.” She stood. “Thank you for allowing me to speak with you. I have processed much during this conversation that shall allow for further core reprogramming.”

Hal smiled. “Anytime, (Y/N).”

He didn’t look back as she walked off, though she suddenly stopped and turned. “Lantern Hal?”

“Yeah?” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

“First Thessalonians, chapter four, verses thirteen and fourteen. ‘And now, dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died.’”

(Y/N) tipped her head down. “If your father was faithful as you have said…you will see him again one day.”

Hal blinked in shock, a rush of emotion spinning like a whirlwind in his chest. “You’ve read scripture?”

“I have. Access to the human web has allowed for knowledge of many religious texts. I am favorable of the main human religious texts. They allow for educating conversations of moral integrity and action.”

“But you don’t believe in any of them?”

“I do not.” (Y/N) smiled kindly at him. “You grieve your father in addition to believing in a divine creator, and this verse seemed applicable to the circumstance in which you find yourself.” She nodded. “I hope it has eased your grief, Lantern Hal.”

He gave her a wobbly smile. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

“Of course,” she murmured. “Have a good evening.”

She disappeared down the other side of the hill and Hal turned back to the stars, reaching up a hand to wipe at his eyes. They twinkled above him, and for the first time in a long while, Hal prayed for his father. He prayed for his family. He prayed for himself. And if there was a divine creator out there, from whatever religion, he hoped it heard him.

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warmau · 4 years

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☆ cheerleader!yukhei ~ happy (late) birthday! | other yukhei aus

the only person nervous in the quiet, empty expanse of the gym

is co-captain xiaojun, whose eyes dart between you and the gleaming, oblivious, almost doe-like stare of wong yukhei

in all his over six-foot glory and positive attitude, xiaojun just hopes he’s ready for the storm you are about to unleash

you’ve been captain of the cheerleading team at your university for only a semester. the other captain had graduated and had picked you to succeed them ,,,,,, which at first seemed only natural

no one had more love and more knowledge about the sport than you

but,,,,,,,,,,good god were your expectations HIGH

in the last couple of months, you’d kicked maybe four people off the team, almost got into a verbal argument with an opposing team captain that got the whole squad booted from a tournament, and in general

you were not happy about slackers

even if they weren’t slacking - just not displaying the amount of skill you wanted

so when you’d opened up tryouts, xiaojun knew it was going to be tough

he had watched people come through the gym with ribbons and pompoms and hulahula hoops

some people danced to show off flexibility and others did tricks they learned from when they took gymnastics

but you had said no. to. everyone.

and something told him, yukhei - even though he had the strength and looks, wasn’t going to be any different

“yukhei, right?”

his brown eyes twinkle against the sunbeams that make their way down through the rooftop windows

“yep! how’d i do? i know i only lifted about fiftyish but i can show you-”

“that won’t be necessary. you can go.”

yukhei’s eyebrow twitches, not in anger, but in genuine confusion

“d-did i pass?”

your eyes are now on the clipboard in front of you - skimming the next application for the person after yukhei

“no. please take your things on the way out.”

“b-but why not? im strong, tall, and athletic - that’s what the application asked for!”

xiaojun swallows when he sees the way your lips thin into a line

the clipboard clatters onto your seat as you get up and approach yukhei

you have eyes that xiaojun akin’s to those of a hunter and most people cower from direct contact

but yukhei’s eyelashes flutter a little as you inch closer and closer

“well, if you demand an explanation for why im rejecting you, then you can have one. first of all - you have absolutely NO form.”

you clap a hand onto his shoulder and straighten it

“you might be proud of your face and body, but it doesn’t express well through your movements. you slump your shoulders and you make a face before you lift anything!”

yukhei looks like he wants to interject, but you cut him off

“cheerleading is about happiness and thrill - to be a cheerleader you have to always smile.”

you point at yourself and smile

“see - even if you’re dying and in pain - you can’t show it.”

there’s a fire ignited in your tone - one that has burned so many other people

xiaojun expects yukhei will just accept it but instead yukhei stutters,

“o-ok should i try ag-”

you turn and xiaojun winces apologetically as you wave yukhei off

“no, thank you for your time.”

“b-but-”

you point to the door and take your seat again

yukhei slumps toward the exit - shrugging his backpack over his shoulders

xiaojun looks at you and the obvious indifference on your expression

“he was strong.”

he comments and you sigh

“strong isn’t enough.”

hendery and mark wave yukhei over as they see him emerge from the gym

“im guessing it went bad, huh?”

mark asks, smiling sadly and hendery snorts

“the cheerleading captain is as crazy as everyone says?”

“hendery, you can’t just call people crazy.”

“did you not hear the story about how they got into a-”

mark rolls his eyes and puts a comforting hand on yukhei’s shoulder

“just forget it man, why don’t you join the basketball team with me?”

yukhei lets out a breath and both his friends expect his usual bright disposition will stay solemn for the rest of the day

after all you were probably ,,,,,,, harsh

but to their shock, yukhei’s grin grows as he lifts his head

“i didn’t think it was possible!”

“wh-what?”

mark and hendery exchange looks of suspicion as yukhei lets out a loud laugh

“that i would meet someone so- so -”

“so mean? cruel? cold?”

he shakes his head

“so my type!”

at first, everyone thinks he must be joking

maybe hendery’s prank playing has rubbed off on yukhei and no he’s trying to pull one over on the entire student body

because

bubbly, kind, sweet-natured yukhei - he’s - he’s supposed to fall for someone just as filled with happiness like himself

not,,,,,,,,,,,not YOU

but yukhei is stubborn and headstrong about things he wants - so when he proclaims that you’re the one

he intends to act on it

he auditions again and when you see him you don’t even let him back into the gym

rejection is a rejectoin, nowhere did you say you’d let people re-try out

but fine, if he can’t become a cheerleader - then he does the next best thing

“im going to try out for football.”

“fo-football? yukhei you’re obviously built for like volleyball or basketball - football players aren’t even that tall!”

yukhei taps his chopsticks on the edge of his bowl

“but,,,,,,,the cheerleading team is always at the football games.”

mark groans, but yukhei follows through

you spot him in the halls a week later with a black eye and even though you don’t ask about it

xiaojun informs that he got it at tryouts

you shrug it off though, he’s not your problem - so why should you care?

but then there are flowers tapped crookedly to your locker

there is yukhei, pushing his way past the huge school crowd to find you in the mornings and say hello

he doesn’t expect anything after a while

and you don’t get it

“yukhei.”

you approach him one day and it looks like he’s seen all the stars as he jumps up at the chance to talk to you

“why are you doing this? how badly do you want to be a cheerleader?”

he tilts his head and thinks about it for a second

“i kind of want to be a cheerleader. but more than anything i just want to spend time with you.”

you dwell on the statement for a couple of days, watching with frustration as the remaining cheerleaders struggle to do pyramids and twirls without strong members as there base

finally, you cave - and send for xiaojun to see if yukhei still wants to join the team

in your mind, what he had meant by “spend time with you” was straightforward

he wanted to be a good cheerleader - and to do so, he had to be taught by the best

so when he bounded into the first practice, looking like a puppy and attracting everyone's undying attention

you pulled him aside

“yukhei, you really want to be a cheerleader right?”

he shrugs

the white tank top and sweatpants he’s chosen for the occasion are distracting, showing off the toned arms you hadn’t even blinked twice at when you’d first met him

“did you just shrug?!?”

“well - i like cheerleading and all, it’s fun. so i guess i do want to be a cheerleader.”

you huff

“well are you going to commit to it? are you going to practice or are you going to disappoint me?”

your eyes flare up and you point at yukhei, whose own gaze falters from your finger

to your lips

back to your gaze

“are you going to end up a failure?”

“well i dont-”

you narrow your eyes and yukhei sees your sigh

“i know im being mean and scary, but i want to kno-”

“you’re not scary.”

yukhei chuckles and you immediately get defensive

“what- are you making fun-”

“you’re passionate. that’s it. i don’t get why everyone thinks that’s scary.”

yukhei looks at you - really looks at you in a way most of the school is too scared to do

he puts a large hand over yours

“i think that passion is beautiful.”

for a solid minute, you can’t say anything

yukhei’s round, always sparkling eyes grow a little concerned but you regain your composure

“th- that’s -”

you try to find the words - you don’t know if you should say

that’s not what i mean! don’t say things like that!

that’s something ive always wanted to hear

either way, your heartbeat is pumping so loud in your ears and for the first time you can’t find your focus

you hear the voice of xiaojun calling for you and yukhei so you decide for today you aren’t going to overanalyze anything

you just lean back and pretend you don’t feel a burning sensation on your cheeks

“ok - well go out there and do the warm-up.”

yukhei’s hand is still on yours and he smiles

“you’re coming with me right?”

you slip your palm from his and promise you’ll be just a second

he says “even a second is too long!” then disappears

you blink and stand there till xiaojun finds you

“captain, are you ok?”

“xiaojun,,,,,what does it mean when someone says that the thing they want the most is to spend time with you? they mean training - right?”

xiaojun scratches his head and scrunches up his nose

“no,,,,,i think that means they like you.”

the scream you make echos out into the gym and nearly scares xiaojun half to death

yukhei smiles to himself,,,he wonders how long it’ll take you to notice.

#wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #yukhei imagines #lucas imagines #lucas scenarios #yukhei scenarios #lucas au #sfw #member: lucas #lucas #wayv

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datheetjoella · 4 years

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Fantober 2020, Day 30: Domesticated

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 30/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 1,821 Tags: Canonverse, Established Relationship, Fluff, Domesticity, Accidental Marriage Proposal Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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Unlike many others, Haruka didn't go to work in the morning with dread in his gut. He had turned his passion into his career and despite there still being days when we'd rather swim leisurely than be barked at by his coach, he hadn't reached the point yet where he had gotten tired of training.

Nevertheless, Haruka's favourite moment of the day was unlocking the door to their apartment, where he could relax on the couch and unwind in the bath, but most importantly, where he could see Makoto again. Finally, that moment had arrived.

Muffled noises resonated through the walls, informing him that Makoto was home early. That knowledge brought a smile to Haruka's face. Although his day had been pretty good so far, he could always use a bright grin, a loving embrace and a tender kiss. Time to replenish his Makoto-well.

He stashed his key back into his pocket and pushed down the doorknob. "I'm home," he called out as he kicked off his shoes. He didn't get a response, so he ditched his bag in front of the bathroom door and went inside.

Makoto was standing in the middle of the living room with his back turned to him, pushing their wireless, low-decibel vacuum around the coffee table. It had been a gift from his mom on his previous birthday - yes, Haruka had reached the age where his parents gave him practical things as presents. Recently, she had become obsessed with high-tech appliances and after he off-handedly mentioned the cord of the vacuum getting tangled when he was on the phone with her while cleaning, she took it upon herself to rid him of those issues.

It had cost far more than Haruka would ever be willing to pay for a vacuum cleaner, but admittedly, it performed amazingly and left their old, cheap one in the dust. Vacuuming had been at the bottom of both of their lists in terms of chore-preferences, but this one ran so smoothly it eradicated the reasons they disliked it.

But the vacuum wasn't why Makoto hadn't heard him; after all, it was relatively quiet. It were the headphones covering his ears that caused him to miss Haruka's arrival.

Haruka opened his mouth to call out again rather than touching his shoulder or jumping in front of him, lest he startle him. But he abruptly shut up when Makoto started to sing along to his music.

His soft voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls and the notes immediately nestled themselves in a chamber of Haruka's heart. Ever since they were kids, Makoto had been the better singer between the two of them, but as he grew older and his voice matured, Makoto improved even more. His vocal range was pretty wide so he could effortlessly sing along to a variety of genres, be it mellow ballads or high-tempo rock songs. While Makoto's voice was already a treat to listen to when he talked, hearing him sing was a rare but very welcome massage to Haruka's eardrums.

To suit his voice, Makoto's taste in music was also very broad. He enjoyed almost anything, so sharing earbuds with him or passing him the aux cord in the car meant Haruka was in for a surprise. This time, he was singing along to an upbeat song by some foreign pop group that was often played on the radio and in stores. The lyrics described the sea breeze and silver sand on a summer night and although it was a bit out of season now they were well into autumn, Makoto's beautiful voice made it sound like a timeless serenade.

With bated breath, Haruka watched and listened. The sight of Makoto singing while vacuuming was rather mundane, something that could happen on any given day of the week, yet it made Haruka's chest brim with profound affection. He could travel the world, eat mackerel at Michelin-star restaurants, swim in every body of water within existence, and he still wouldn't be as happy as he was now. Trophies and the thrill of competing were a great bonus, but all that mattered was this; after work, he came home to the person he loved more than life itself, carefree and content.

When Makoto turned around the table to vacuum the floor on the other side, their eyes met and a wide smile lit up his handsome face. "Ah, Haru, I didn't hear you come in. Welcome home."

Naturally, Haruka smiled too. "I'm home," he said again.

After he turned off the vacuum, Makoto fished his phone out of his pocket to stop the music and put his headphones down on the table. Then, he went over to Haruka to engulf him in a big hug and welcome him home properly. As their lips met in a gentle kiss, Haruka realised he had been wrong; this was his favourite moment of the day.

He cupped Makoto's face, the faintest hint of stubble on his jaw prickling his fingertips and although it was a feeling he otherwise found unpleasant, the roughness was kind of nice now. It was a part of Makoto and since it would be gone tomorrow morning after he shaved, Haruka had to savour it now.

Makoto pulled back sooner than he would've liked, but Haruka wouldn't sweat it. There was more than enough time left in the day to dedicate to loving kisses.

"When you unload your bag, you can leave your towels and swimsuit in front of the washing machine instead of putting them in the laundry basket," Makoto said, "I'm doing laundry anyway so I'll put them in once this round is done."

"Vacuuming, doing laundry," Haruka said with a huff of amusement, "Are you aiming to be a house husband?"

"Depends." Makoto shrugged. "Are your applications open?"

"I guess."

"Then does that mean I'm hired?"

"Who else would I hire?"

Makoto chuckled. "Does that mean we're married now?"

A large question mark appeared above Haruka's head. Had he just proposed to Makoto? "Engaged, I think?" Haruka said with a frown. This was not how he expected this milestone to go down. He'd thought there would be at least more gasps of surprise, fireworks and perhaps even a tear or two. Not a joking remark on an extraordinarily normal day. "This is the most confusing proposal I've ever heard."

More melodic laughter streamed from Makoto's mouth. "It's not exactly how I had envisioned it either, but I must say I quite like it. It was so easy and natural, like everything else between us is, too," he said and he did have a point. "Besides, I'm happy with the upgrade. I was never a fan of the term 'boyfriends' anyway. 'Fiancés' has a much nicer ring to it, doesn't it?"

In Haruka's opinion, it did sound a lot better. Fiancé was more encompassing than the term boyfriend was, and while Makoto was undoubtedly his boyfriend, he was so much more than that. He was his best friend, his better half, his Makoto. "How did you think of me before if you don't like the word 'boyfriend' then?"

"My partner, my significant other, my best friend with a whole bunch of benefits," Makoto said with a playful raise of his eyebrows, but then he smiled, soft and genuine. "My Haru-chan."

It was the answer Haruka could've predicted, yet it still made heat rush to his cheeks. "Drop the '-chan'."

Makoto snorted. He raised his hand and carded his fingers through Haruka's black locks. "Hey, Haru?"

"What?"

"Do you think I'll be a good husband?"

"Your cooking skills can use some brushing up," Haruka said with a smirk, earning himself an offended 'hey!' from Makoto. "But other than that, you'll be the perfect husband."

"Thanks," Makoto said, leaning down to plant a kiss on the tip of Haruka's nose. "You will, too, but I already told you that, didn't I?"

Haruka nodded, smiling as he recalled it. "During our second year of high school, when I was teaching you how to cook mackerel in miso for Ran and Ren."

"Back then, you said you weren't interested in getting married."

It was true. When he was younger he had no intention to get married, but that was because it wasn't possible to marry Makoto and it wasn't like there was anyone else he wanted to be with. It was a great relief that over the years, it had become an option. "I changed my mind."

A warm twinkle shone in Makoto's eyes. "I'm glad. Although I'm happy enough just being with you, there's something extra special about our relationship being officially and legally recognised, don't you think?"

Haruka nodded. According to their friends, they'd been like an old married couple since they were kids so in that regard, nothing would change. But even if the nature of their bond didn't change, the way the world viewed them would. Whenever Haruka met someone new, it was difficult to explain what Makoto was to him: with the title of husband, all those problems would vanish and everyone would understand immediately that Makoto was his world.

"If we get married in a few years, we'll be able to save up for a ceremony on the beach, and maybe for a honeymoon in Okinawa," Makoto said and Haruka's heart swelled at the thought, "But for now, we'll enjoy the fiancé-stage of our relationship."

"Yeah," Haruka said. Their lives were a bit too hectic to get married right away, but that didn't mean they couldn't fantasise about it. They would have plenty of time to dream up the perfect wedding. "To celebrate our engagement, I'll cook a special dinner tonight. What would you like to eat?"

"Mackerel."

"Mackerel?" Haruka asked with a frown. "Not green curry?"

Makoto shook his head. "Mackerel is my fiancé's favourite food."

That made Haruka's stomach flutter. Could Makoto be any more kind and selfless? He was truly proving himself as husband-material. "I'll make a chocolate cake for dessert then. That's my fiancé's favourite pastry."

At the mention of chocolate cake, Makoto's smile softened. "Thanks, Haru," he said and pressed a sweet kiss to Haruka's lips. "There isn't anyone in the entire world who I'd rather spend my life with, so thank you for choosing to be with me again and again."

"Me neither," Haruka said, tightening his arms around Makoto's neck. Revealing the contents of his heart remained to be something he struggled with, but Makoto deserved to hear just how much he meant to him. No matter how difficult something was, for Makoto he'd always try his best. "I love you."

"I love you too," Makoto said as he leaned their foreheads together, their noses touching. "So, so much."

Their eyes fell shut as their lips met in another passionate kiss.

If every day with Makoto was this domestic and comfortable, then Haruka was already looking forward to all the years yet to come.

#i'm sorry i'm stupid #makoharu #makoharu fic #my fic #fantober2020 #colourful days with you

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bhandarimarblekishangarh · 4 years

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Black Granite – The Black Beauty For Modern Look And Feel

What Are The Applications of Black Granite?

Granite slabs are one of the most popular natural stones used by property owners worldwide. Among all, black granite is leading the trend with its natural black beauty and elegance. The granite is known for its strength, durability and look that remains unmatched in the world of natural stones.

Black Granite

The aesthetics that are created by the addition of black granite to your home decor or exteriors simply stands out in the crowd. The range of patterns and swirls of black and white on this granite are not as much as other natural stones yet it tends to produce a style statement that is modern, unique, and luxurious.

A huge number of homeowners uses fancy black granite to give a striking look, especially for their kitchens and bathrooms. Even if you are just remodeling your kitchen, the incorporation of black granite can endow the space with a novel look. Another big reason to use the granite for a remodel is that it can complement well with the design elements including flooring, cabinets and sink – no matter which colour or texture. Black is the ultimate colour that easily blends with other colours. The black colour accentuates other colours already present in your kitchen or bathroom design. That being said, the black granite provides spectacular contrasting appearance when matched with white or lighter islands and cabinets. When choosing granite slabs or tiles, the look offered to any commercial or residential space is beautifully consistent in colour and texture. According to natural stone experts recommendation, black granite can be used in countless applications including indoors and outdoors depending on the individual interest.

On incorporating the granite in space lit with sunlight, its polished surface reflects shine and radiates a sense of sumptuousness. The stone is a universal choice for crafting attractive counter-tops, floors, outdoor cladding and architectural features.

Black Granite For All Kinds Of Design And Space The properties of black granite are the same or even better in some rajasthan other granite variants. The stone is resistant to water and heat and requires very little maintenance. It can easily be sanitized by just cleaning it with soapy water. Hence, no matter for which project it is chosen, the stone stands the test of time, even in freezing temperatures.

Let us look at some of the applications where black granite can prove to be an apt choice.

Kitchen Counter-tops – For a long-lasting and sturdy counter-top that remains as it is for years together, the black stone is a smart choice. A polished black counter-top shines like a mirror and highlights everything sitting around it. The black granite is an excellent partner for the wood cabinetry or light colour design elements. Another great design idea is to match the stone with the kitchen surrounded by stainless steel features. It imparts a sophisticated look with the combination of steel grey and black.

Bathroom – Black granite is the ultimate choice for bathrooms. The stone proves to be a perfect choice for bathrooms as it adds a unique dimension and a level of sophistication. The stone provides resistance to water, heat, and the humid environment.

Table Tops/Bar Tops – The stone is a great choice for customizing table tops and bar tops. This stone is heat and scratch resistant, therefore black granite slab is used as a tabletop of the laundry room.

Flooring – Black colour floors add depth and intensity to any space. The granite slabs or tiles used on flooring enriches the aesthetics while giving a classic look to space. Natural stone experts recommend installing black granite flooring in rooms with big windows and ample sunlight.

Accent Walls – Without much effort, just the installation of the black stone on accent walls is enough to give a wow feel to even the simplest home decor. The granite can be used on accent walls in bathrooms, behind a shower or a bathtub. It forms a classic backdrop for walls in living rooms or kitchens as well.

Outdoor Cladding – Black granite is an innovative option for wall cladding as it displays its beauty amazingly in the presence of sunlight. Additionally, it is a better choice than other stones as it stands strong in sunlight, dust and water without any deterioration to its quality and looks. For counter-tops, the stone has always been a staple choice, but going out of the line, one can install it in innumerable ways.

The Quality And Variety At Bhandari marble group India, Rajasthan, Kishangarh the granite supplier in India is a master in quarrying premium varieties of black granite. Owing to our knowledge and experience in the world of natural stones, we are known for being the world-class granite exporter.

We offer black granite range in rectangle and square shape slabs that can conveniently fit into space as per individual interests. There are different types of black stone available around the world. But we offer three of the most desired options among all.

Absolute Black Granite

Absolute Black – The granite slab, also known as the Jet Black has its origins in India. The Absolute Black Granite reflects a pitch black backdrop that offers elegance and high-end fashion.

Black Galaxy – as the name reveals, this stone naturally mimics the Galaxy in the sky twinkling with silver and golden colour stars. The application of Black Galaxy Granite remains unrivalled just like a ‘black shiny dress’.

Black Pearl – This granite comes with a black background filled with metallic silver flake-like patterns. The stone is incredibly durable and prevents the stain of food and beverage. Black Pearl Granite is commonly found in the quarries of South India.

All the three versions of black granite are suitable for counter-tops, bathrooms, outdoor wall cladding, furniture, accent wall and much more. No matter which granite slab you choose it is important to consult a professional granite supplier before installing one. It does take some expertise and efforts in bringing the best results and this is why we are here.

Indian Granites

Indian Granite is one of the finest quality granite available. India is the largest granite exporter in the world. Bhandari Marble group exports about 80 to 85% of local granite all over the world.

The granites from India are hard in nature and take an excellent polish. The quality of these granites is superior to Chinese and Brazilian granite. The quarries are all over the northern and southern India.

Bhandari Marble group is a leading manufacturer and exporter of granite from India. Bhandari Marble group produces high-quality Indian Granite Colors in different designs and sheds at our state of the art factories.

Black Granite

Black granite is making a big comeback into our kitchens, home. The Bhandari Marble group has the best black granite in the world. Glossy or matte, with more or less veining and splashes of different shades, black countertops made of granite are always making a captivating appearance. This granite type is also providing a powerful performance. Strong and durable as any other granite, dark granite countertops will always make a powerful statement.

Some people may be afraid to use black granite in their Homes. Some think that black home flooring is too dark and that this type of granite can transform a kitchen into a gloomy and drab space. The truth is, if you choose any of the black granite colors you will have made an excellent decision. Of course, you need to understand the space, dark granite countertops style, and make a plan in accordance with your specific, practical needs in the kitchen.

Another important thing is to decide whether black kitchen countertops will complement the style you want to see and enjoy every day. If you need any type of Black Granite please visit Bhandari Marble World.

Granite in India

Bhandari Marble group is a very great example of having granite in India. The color of black granite can range from almost absolute and completely black, with little striations, to a more wavering black color. These variables are actually secondary colors in dark granite and usually are gray, green, blue, white, etc. There is also a more textured appearance of black granite that provides this natural stone with ravishing interest and depth.

Black granites are mined mostly in South Africa, India, Australia, and Sweden.

The term “Granite” is derived from the Latin word “Gran-um” meaning “grain” because of its granular nature. Granite is an Igneous Stone, primarily made of Quartz (35%), Feldspar (45%) & Potassium. Dimensional granite specifications include high load-bearing capacity, amenability to cut without secondary flaws, ability to yield thin and large slabs and – above all – durability. Granite is a very strong and durable stone. It takes heavy gloss polish, popularly used as architectural stone for interior and exterior walls, floors, and as monumental stone. Granite is the most exclusive of all building stones, and its slabs and tiles occupy a prominent place among dimensional stones.

The fascinating colors, heavy gloss mirror polish, and textural patterns make granite slabs and granite tiles extremely popular in the market. Quality Marble India is one of the leading granite exporters offering an exclusive range of premium quality products out of which Tiger skin granite, Platinum White Granite, Pebble Black Granite, Absolute Black Granite are our bestsellers. The Bhandari Marble group has the best quality granite in the world.

Granite in Rajasthan

Bhandari Marble group deals with the best quality Granite. We are known for being high standards Granite Suppliers, Manufacturers & Dealers worldwide. The rich color assortment of Indian Granite supplied by us is represented here. But in the Rajasthan, the Bhandari Marble group is one of the best Granite Manufacturers. India is well known all over the world for its wide variety of granites, but the general impression is they are located in the south of the country.

The north, especially the state of Rajasthan, is usually associated with marble, sandstone, and slates. Few associate the state of Rajasthan with a granite industry. Yet, in an almost furtive manner, unknown to most of the stone industry people, a significant granite industry has been developing in the state in recent years. This relatively recent industry is not just processing materials extracted elsewhere. It is, in fact, extracting granites of a fairly wide range of colors found within the state itself.

As of 2020, there are already more than 500 varieties of granites that are being marketed by the industry, and more and more new materials are constantly coming out in the market. This article attempts to highlight a growing industry which, in the next few years, will almost certainly become much better known both within India and also in the outside world.

Bhandari Marble group’s Some basic facts- most of the granite quarries are located in a radius of 300 km around kishangarh mines of Bhandari Marble group. As is often the case, in the initial stages the quarrying techniques were rudimentary but they are now rapidly becoming more mechanized. The production of blocks has started increasing and one can safely assume that the size of blocks too will keep becoming bigger over time as the mechanization process speeds up in the quarries. There are around 1000 leases granted for mining of different, though some of them are small-sized.

A fairly important processing industry already exists in the area. At last count in July 2020, there were an estimated 2500 registered block cutters already working in KISHANGARH, and another 100 block cutters are expected to be installed in the near future. In the whole of Rajasthan, there are about 2500 block cutters operating already. These block cutters, mostly made in India produce an estimated 10000 square meters per month of free size slabs. Around 25000 people are estimated to be working in the granite industry in Rajasthan.

But modern processing units with higher production capacity now also exist in Rajasthan. In the Jalore area, there is one modern gang saw plant for granite which has 3 gang saw in its factory in Jalore and is a 100 % export oriented unit. The Bhandari Marble World has all the types of Granite Manufacturers.

Granite in Kishangarh

Bhandari Marble company started in 1631 with mines of green marble, started a granite processing unit in Kishangarh, Rajasthan and has a plant making calibrated granite tiles. It also processes granites from South India, apart from its own materials such as Desert Brown, Lakha Red and Devgarh Black, which is also known as Rajasthan Black.

BHANDARI has installed capacity of modern gang saw and the main materials it works with are Baltic Green, Pacific Red, Crystal Yellow, and Royal Cream.

Around many modern gangsaw for processing granites already exist in KISHANGARH. BHANDARI deals with Desert Brown, Desert Green and Devgarh Black apart from the green marble.

The most popular materials from the Rajasthan granite industry are Desert Brown, Desert Green Splendor Green and Devgarh Black. 100% of Desert Brown is exported to China; this material has substituted Tropical Brown of Saudi Arabia. Desert Green is the variety most popular in foreign countries, one reason perhaps being it is seen as a ready substitute for the Saudi Arabian green granite, blocks of which can no longer export. For Devgarh Black, demand is high both in India and abroad and there are more than 50 quarries of this material.

Another material, Rosy Pink, is extremely popular in Turkey. Other materials being extracted in important quantities are Bala Flower, Lakha Red, Tiger Skin, Crystal Yellow, French Green and Colonial Blue. Exports currently constitute no more than 10-15% of the total production since most of the production is geared to the local market, with Delhi and the state of Gujarat being the most important markets.

Important projects have already been done using granites from Rajasthan. For example, 117000 square meters of Classic White was used for flooring in the Kolkata International Airport. In the Hyderabad airport, almost 200000 square meters of Chima White was used. In almost all metro stations being built in north India, in shopping malls, and in airports, granite from Rajasthan is being used. In-office buildings it is now normal for Rajasthan granites to be used for floorings.

Granite Manufacturer

Bhandari Marble World is the biggest granite manufacturer in India. The relatively lower price compared to the granites of South India (partially due to higher transport costs) and also compared to decent quality marble has been a factor in its favor. But there are also other factors in favor of the granites of Rajasthan.

As Mr. D.C. Bhandari of Bhandari Marble World who is also a geologist, puts it, these granites are also more suitable for flooring and ideal for projects due to their high compression strength and hardness. The north India materials tend to be uniform rather than wavy, and are of lighter colors.

While the granite industry in Rajasthan is expected to keep increasing in size in the near future, the growth could be much faster with better mining policies, according to local entrepreneurs. The big difference in the industry when compared to the South is the level of education of the workers- it is lower in the North. One major problem faced by the quarry and factory owners is finding skilled and unskilled labor.

Jalore is considered by people to be a remote place and few people are willing to come and live there. This lack of qualified labor is considered to be one of the biggest hindrance to growth. As one prominent businessman says, whenever the more than 100 quarry owners have a meeting, the conversation soon turns to the problem of shortage of unskilled labor. Mr. D.C. Bhandari, CEO of Bhandari Marble World, points out other major problems-lack of availability of land for setting up processing units, shortage of electricity supply, as well as problems in dumping waste.

Another problem is that being a desert area there is a shortage of water; moreover, the water is salty. For Mr. Ravi Sharma, Senior Manager of BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP, the biggest problem is a lack of raw material, aggravated by the fact that Chinese block buyers are purchasing all kinds of blocks irrespective of quality. But, as Mr. Ravi Sharma, of BMG, puts it, “where else can you find so many units located in one city?”

Granite Supplier

But with all the problems that exist, it is clear that a critical mass of industry size has already been reached, and all the other elements which constitute a development of the modern industry are now in place. There is a lot of talk about new modern processing units being set up.

Most businessmen in the Rajasthan stone industry, even when their main business is in sandstone, or green marble or other stones, they are all thinking or planning to diversify by investing in the granite industry. There is the confidence that demand in the local market will continue to grow for a long time with the Indian economy poised for fast growth of 10% for years.

The commercial attractiveness of the local materials has been proved. There is also a sufficiently wide range of different materials to work with, which makes setting up a big size modern production processing unit viable and less risky. I expect to hear more about this industry in the future. This article will become outdated very, very soon.

Granite Exporter

The Exports of Granite Industry, We are The Bhandari Marble World is the biggest exporters in India. We Export granite in lots of countries like Saudi Arabia, the UK, the US, and Etc.

Indian Granites

Description of Indian Granite is one of the finest quality granite available. India is the largest granite exporter in the world. Bhandari Marble group exports about 80 to 85% of local granite all over the world. CATEGORIES

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ABOUT US

Extensively used for architectural purposes under big as well as small projects, our products are available in various sizes and designs. Our large assortment of Marble Flooring includes various qualities of Indian Marble, Italian Marble & Other Imported Marble. Marble supplied by us is perfect to enhance the beauty of the floors of homes, offices, and other places. Extremely valued for long-lasting.

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beautiful kitchen with lights off in a new luxury home with island, pendant lights, and glass-fronted cabinets, and view of the dining room. +++++++8

A kitchen with granite countertops can offer a high return on the investment when it comes time to sell. It is no secret that home buyers focus on the kitchen, and many are perfectly willing to shell out extra cash for homes with remodeled kitchens that use quality materials, such as granite. When choosing a granite countertop color, there are many more options beyond the common browns, grays, and tans. You can go simple with a black or white countertop or spice things up with a colorful granite.

Add by expert and export team of BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP, INDIA, RAJASTHAN, KISHANGARH

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cupofteaguk · 6 years

Text

see you soon

summary: in which you live in a world where one stroke of a pen against your skin is a signage of forever, and Min Yoongi just has really good timing

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

genre: soulmate au (the one where when you write something on your skin with pen/marker, it will show up on your soulmate’s skin as well) | fluff/angst

warnings: some slow burn, a side jungkook/reader relationship

word count: 7k

The first time images appear on your skin, you are 12 and have absolutely no idea why. Questions spring up in your mind like wildfire—alarming and so completely out of your control that you perform what could only be politely labeled as a scream before you dash to the bathroom, rubbing roughly at the skin of your arm until the flesh turns bright red. The marks, however, do not fade away.

Taking in a few sharp inhales, you collect your thoughts long enough to carefully study the marks that have been embedded into your skin—ink underneath the flesh that you carefully run your finger across. The end product looks to be a night sky along your forearm. There is a half-crescent moon and lazy stars dancing across the way; twinkling lines and hazy shapes and thick lines like they had been drawn with a sharpie.

For some odd reason, the longer you stare at the drawing, you don’t feel the panic settling back into your nerves. Rather, you feel more calm, peaceful, as if staring at the face of familiarity, like these drawings of half-crescent moons and 6 pointed stars genuinely mean something to you. Or at least, they hold enough significance that you don’t scream or continue trying to rub away the spots.

Your mother comes bounding into the room shortly after, startled by your scream until she sees the source of your apprehension and her lips curl up into a soft and understanding smile. It is right then and there, when she takes your arm, soothingly running her thumb up and down the expanse of the night sky that she spins the narrative of fate, destiny, and the universe.

She tells you that the moment people are born, they are instantly bound with another, tied together by some predetermined string, gifting you with someone you are meant to spend the rest of your life with. Someone who fit against every curve, someone who loved you in every aspect no matter what. Someone who would look at you, and you could just feel the weight of their stares like none other—set all your nerves on fire with just a single touch, leave you knowing without a doubt that that person was the one you were meant to spend your life with.

Your soulmate. Your other half.

A chill goes down your spine, already feeling the impending weight of infinity resting on your shoulders. Forever has always been some concept you grappled with ever since you got old enough to understand such an idea. It’s not something you can claim to completely comprehend, but you know a suitable amount to know that forever, in the sense of sharing your entire life with another person, is still an awfully long period of time.

Your mother says that soulmates are connected through the passage of ink against skin, ballpoint pens, sharpies, any kind of writing applicator—anything you wrote on your flesh would show up along the skin of your soulmate in the same place as if they had written it themselves. It would show up just as darkly or lightly, fading away gradually, mirroring the state of the ink, sharing that with your other half.

Rested with this new knowledge, you turn back to study the marks of sharpies, shaky lines of moons and stars, and your heart beats just a little bit quicker, now in complete understanding that the one who had drawn these in the first place is your soulmate. You hold your breath as your eyes trace over the marks, questions arising in your mind like flowers in spring. It’s unsettling to know that your soulmate drew these, intimate to know that he is close yet so far away from your grasp. You know absolutely nothing about him, yet there is a reassurance you get in knowing that there is someone out in the vast world who you are connected with. Literally.

When your mother leaves the room, you hastily grab your own sharpie, readying the tip along the skin to ask the millions of questions that have plagued your mind since acquiring this new information. However, before you can will yourself to start writing something, you freeze halfway, the fear coursing through your blood. For some reason, it doesn’t feel right to ask so much of your soulmate. It’s already intimate enough to know that you both essentially share the same skin. It feels intrusive to ask questions, to try and interact with the person on the other side; so much so that you retract the pen from your skin, resting it on the table, eyes continuing to stare at the drawing, and you let yourself wonder.

Four years later, Min Yoongi is seated in class, the sleeve of his sweater rolled up to his elbow, his eyes fixated intensely on the skin of his arm as he watches lines being drawn along his forearm, around his wrist, pieces of flowers and leaves and vines collecting together, tracing over the other. Pops of blue and red and green would occasionally be shaded in between the lines, formulated with so much craft and attention to detail that Yoongi allows his lips to be curled up into a rare, fond smile.

Although he’s known about the concept and connection of soulmates from a young age, after watching his happy and very much in love parents show off the gift that only two halves of a whole could undergo—in which they would take turns drawing flowers on their skin and Yoongi could watch with wide-eyed amazement as the flower would magically appear along the other person’s skin as well—he didn’t actually see the effects happen on himself until the late age of fourteen. Up until then, he had worried endlessly, thinking perhaps he had been a glitch in the system. Wondering if perhaps his own drawings of night skies and pathetic scribbles had just faded away, drawn out for only him to see.

Or, even worse, his soulmate had taken note of how bad a drawer he was, and wanted to opt out of the system simply by refusing to take part in the connection that made them a whole.

It had been a long and concerning 2 years for Yoongi, looking over his arms and legs for something, any sign that he wouldn’t have to face life entirely on his own.

But he remembers that night better than he remembers most days, the night it showed up. 14 years old, lying atop his mattress, reading a book, before the flickering of something captured his attention. It took him a second to process the lines sketching over the skin of his inner wrist, but after a moment it was unmistakeable.

His soulmate had finally decided to show herself.

So overcome with excitement and joy, Yoongi could barely find it in himself to look away as he watched the tip of a ballpoint pen trace over his skin, the lines rough but moving with a practiced grace across his skin as he continues to devote 110% of his attention to seeing the finished product.

It looks to be a flower of some kind, with multiple petals springing up and curling around the center; the drawing looks three-dimensional, side profile, resting on a straight line drawn underneath the flower.

At once, Yoongi had sprung out of his bed, dashing down the stairs, chanting his mother’s name like a mantra before she finally appeared. He shoved the drawing of the flower to her face, asking over and over again with an excited edge about what kind of flower it could possibly be.

His mother was quiet for a moment, his wrist gently in the palm of her hand, eyes tracing across the surface, before she smiles with so much pride and admiration that his heart swells. “Yoongi, this is a lotus flower. Your soulmate is very talented.”

“What does it mean?” He asked.

“I believe most cultures think of the lotus as a sign of purity.”

Yoongi nodded, eyes unable to look away from the flower along his inner wrist. His fingers traced over the design, smiling so wide that his eyes crinkled because he doesn’t even know the name of his soulmate, yet he knows that he’s already quite fond of her.

As the two more years go by, and fourteen turns to fifteen and fifteen turns to sixteen, the lotus isn’t the only thing he realizes you know how to draw. Just like flowers in general, he watches you grow before his very eyes, drawing fields of flowers along his forearm, sunflowers and daisies and roses of all different sizes and shapes and heights. The drawings evolve into forests, dragons, and enchanted gardens—all across the forearm: from the wrist to the elbow. Sometimes, you’d color in certain details to bring the pieces to life more and Yoongi loves it. He doesn’t tell anyone, but it must be obvious with the way he stops everything just to catch a glimpse of what surprises you’re decorating your skin with each and every passing day.

He hears music in the breeze you bring from the sky and the winds, the taps of a hummingbird’s wings, a piano in the meadows and fields and grassy lines you doodle, the rays of sunlight like fire to his nerves.

And your drawings have only become more and more intricate, easily becoming Yoongi’s favorite part of the day no matter what he’s doing. The more times he watches you draw, the more he becomes curious about who you are, where you learned to draw and why you are so invested on so much detail. It’s hard not to wonder about your life, besides from the fact that you are indeed his soulmate, his other half—you are, after all, drawing on his arm most days of the week.

Nobody even dares try to figure out how many times Yoongi has tried to reach out to you through the only means of communication he has to you, how many times he’s tried to pick up his own pen and write out questions about your name or your life, but Yoongi is nothing besides a bundle nerves and a hesitancy, a dim fear in the wind that if he goes around asking for your name—things would be different. It would be like breaching this wall of observation, and he doesn’t want to picture a future without your drawings. He is already gifted with a partner in which he calms down from the mere lines of black along his skin, the poetic strips that dash through his mind at the sight of your flowers or birds or skies.

Suddenly taken by a strange desire, one he has only felt before in much smaller doses, he grabs his pen and slides the cap off the top. He continues to look at a backyard garden you are drawing atop the skin, feeling this surge of… something under his skin, a deep desire, a line appearing in his mind like patches of grass springing up during the end of winter.

So taken by his idea, he presses the tip of the pen to the palm of his hand.

I’d touch the sky and cross the field/If you were waiting on the other side

The drawing of the garden falters momentarily and Yoongi almost curses his reckless thinking for sharing this little poem—even though you had been the one to inspire it—that he does not notice how quiet the room has become until the teacher clears her throat. He is greeted with 30 pairs of eyes glued on him, and he flushes to the hairline.

“S-Sorry,” He stammers, tossing the pen onto the table, lowering his arm and tugging the sleeve back over the skin, hiding the world in which he can fall in love with someone the fates have gifted him with.

“Min Yoongi, if it’s so easy for you to become distracted in my class, then perhaps it shouldn’t be hard for you to explain what could possibly be so interesting about your arm.”

“It’s drawings from his soulmate!” His table partner and close friend (to the extent that can be shared between 2 people within a foot of proximity to each other every single day) Jung Hoseok exclaims, bright smile upon his face and classmates and peers hum and nod in excitement.

Something in the teacher’s eyes glint, and although she doesn’t look as stern she still doesn’t look impressed. “If you paid attention to my lectures with half the effort you spend thinking about your soulmate, you might be doing better in my class, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi is so red he looks and feels like a tomato, burying his head deeply into his arms when light-hearted chuckles sound through the room. Hoseok is patting him good-naturedly on the shoulder but Yoongi ignores this gesture.

It’s the first time he ever uses the word fuck to describe his situation.

And it most certainly won’t be the last.

You are seventeen years old and absolutely, maddeningly, horribly in love with Jeon Jungkook. You’re both seniors now, having known each other since you shared Chemistry class during junior year, just waiting for the next chapter of your lives to take you far away.

Relationships work in very odd and unusual ways, especially given the extent of your circumstances and the world in which you’ve been born into. Here, everything is predetermined and when you were younger you use to praise the system. The previous idea of having certain aspects of your life already figured out stood as a blessing to you, just another part you didn’t need to worry about or spend much time pondering over possible what if scenarios. You use to be certain about the system, believing in it, hoping that if you waited long enough your soulmate would appear right before your eyes and everything would be okay again.

Well, it turns out that your twelve-year-old self was painfully naive (as twelve-year-old children should have been, you don’t feel the weight of the world quite yet resting on your shoulders in middle school) and also a source of your unrealistic fantasies. Maybe you’re just impatient, so eager to just go on and meet the boy who drew the night sky on your arm, who drew unknown shapes and scribbles that made you laugh, who wrote that two-lined poem that made your heart stop for one split second.

Maybe you are somewhat spiteful, but for good reasons.

But when you meet Jungkook at the tender age of 16, you fall and you fall desperately hard and for the first time since you unveiled a world of soulmates and the same ink upon 2 completely different skins, you immediately knew you would hate the system. The system, as predetermined and anxiety-free as it may seem leaves you with choking worry and fear crawling at your insides every time you look at Jungkook—because what if he is not your soulmate.

He might not be. He might not be the boy you were born into sharing your life with, and the constant itch you get in the back of your mind over this dilemma does nothing to ease the ball of anxiety constantly eating away at your stomach.

But still, you decide for once that you’re going to allow yourself to be selfish. You let Jungkook take your hand in his, you let him kiss you under the moonlight and on top of city glimmers, you let him whisper I love you in your ear atop the mattress of his bed during the hazy night and the promise of morning the last thing on your mind.

You whisper it back, because every nerve in your body, every piece of your beating heart truly does love him. Jungkook has always been more than everything you could ever ask for—he’s kind and considerate, ambitious and passionate, selfless and snarky, who wouldn’t want to be Jungkook’s soulmate? You don’t think you’ve ever yearned for someone as strongly as you yearn for Jungkook, and that should be enough of a reason to remain confident in the likely chance he could be your soulmate.

In spite of that, you refuse to write on your hand anymore, the pen no longer touching your skin, intricate gardens and flowers and dragons no longer seeing the animation of being brought to life, not sure you could handle the possibility of not seeing those same gardens and flowers and dragons on Jungkook’s arm.

I’d touch the sky and cross the field/If you were waiting on the other side

You never bring this up to Jungkook, which is odd considering that it’s always on your mind, the words of your soulmate replaying over and over again like a drum and probably the best means to confirm if Jungkook is your soulmate or not. But, again, the rejection and the humiliation and the agony that is sure to follow would be entirely too unpleasant if Jungkook had indeed never written you that poem.

So you never talk about it, and Jungkook never talks about it either.

You believed that soulmates and not seeing your words on Jungkook’s skin would never end up being a bother until one morning, when you are dangerously late for school and in your haste you realize you have forgotten to print one of your essays for English—a feat that leaves you so panicked that you whip out a pen and write: IMPORTANT, print English essay during lunch!!!! in the palm of your hand.

School five minutes before the bell signalling the start is as hectic as ever, but you somehow manage to find Jungkook in front of his locker, producing the textbooks he’ll need for his first class. He catches sight of you out of the corner of his eye, before he whirls around and gives you a bright smile, one that you easily return as he laces your hands together and leans forward to give you a kiss.

“Morning,” He says, mouth still hovering inches above yours.

“Mm, morning,” You say back, eyes narrow and lips curling up into a smile. “Get all your work done?”

“Surprisingly, I did,” Jungkook replies, slamming his locker shut before the pair of you quickly make your way to your locker before school starts. “Got college applications in and finished all my homework. All before 4AM.”

“Wow, impressive.” You nod in agreement as you stop and untangle your fingers from Jungkook’s to spin the dial unlocking your locker. You fling it open to reveal books, papers, and polaroid photos of Jungkook and a mixture of all your other friends—everyone looks so bright-eyed and happy, genuine smiles upon their faces and the sight momentarily makes you forget your problems and worries and concerns. “I barely got any sleep last night. Probably why I woke up so late.”

“Poor baby,” Jungkook hums sympathetically, watching you carefully as you slip your backpack off your shoulders and shove it into your locker before fishing out the books you need for your first class.

As your left hand comes out to grab at your math textbook, the words of your reminder on your palm flash into your line of sight and without a warning, you slam it onto the bottom of your locker. You are suddenly hit with the note of what you had written no less than 10 minutes ago, how you had swore to yourself you would not dare write something on your skin again—not here, especially with Jungkook no more than a few feet away. What if he sees, what if he sees and finds that your handwriting is not embezzled in his own palm? You don’t think you could take something so painful on such a seemingly average Tuesday morning.

Jungkook perks slightly at your sudden movement. “Everything okay?”

“Uh—yeah, sorry. My hand slipped,” You say with an easy breeze, stacking your books underneath your left arm so your left hand with the note would be preoccupied.

Jungkook seems to think nothing of this because he merely shrugs and throws an arm over your shoulder to walk you to your first place. You’re on his left side, left arm draped over, left hand oh-so-close to your face, all you have to do is crane your head just a little to get the answer to all your questions.

But you can’t do it, vouching to keep your eyes trained ahead as Jungkook goes on about his latest TV show obsession. It would be so easy, just the quick flicker of your eyes along the opened palm of his left hand to know, to understand and reveal everything. Your heart is pounding with fear, your fingers tightening their grip around your textbooks—and Jungkook, so naive and has absolutely no clue, bless his heart—remains oblivious to it all.

You and Jungkook reach the outside of your classroom right when the tardy bell starts, meaning you and Jungkook are officially late for first period. But neither of you care, as Jungkook tightens his hold around you momentarily in the form of a quick hug before he pulls back.

And that’s when you see it: his left palm just before he retracts away from you, the skin.

It’s blank. Absolutely blank.

You hastily uncurl your left palm, barely catching the ink before Jungkook’s stare solidifies your attention on him again. “See you for lunch,” He says, leaning forward to give you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling back and dashing down the hallway. You barely process him leaving, barely process anything at all because your mind is reeling with this horrible mixture of dread and realization. Jungkook is not your soulmate, even though every fiber, every nerve in your body believed so strongly that he could be—with the exception of that little part in your mind who planted the thought of him not being your soulmate.

You don’t know how long it’ll take you to crack, but it apparently doesn’t take long because you are at his house exactly 2 days later, drumming your fingers along your side, feeling entirely too selfish about keeping this information from Jungkook. He has every right to know. Even though you’ve been a mess of an individual since the day of the discovery, it’s not moral to keep such important news from him in spite of how little you two have talked about this type of thing.

Jungkook opens the door, eyes momentarily bright at the sight of you, pupils dimming a little when he takes in your trouble expression—which must be painfully obvious, given that Jungkook hasn’t always been the best at reading the story behind your eyes. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

You look up at him. “I need to talk to you,” You say in a serious voice, realizing how dreadful you must sound. You hadn’t slept properly since that day. “It’s a little important.”

Jungkook is much more alert now, and although he doesn’t say anything he does open the door wider for you to step through. You enter the living room, knowing that both his parents and brother are out for the remainder of the afternoon. Taking in a deep breath, you whirl around to find Jungkook staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. “Are you happy with me?” You ask suddenly, so abruptly that Jungkook just furrows his eyebrows together.

“O-Of course I am,” He says simply, as if you have just asked the dumbest question in the book. Which, in a sense, you have, and you know it’s a stupid thing to start off with but you desperately need to know. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

“Even if,” You interrupt, refusing to answer his question completely yet. “Even if we’re not soulmates?”

It’s the first time in a very long time that you bring up the topic of soulmates, and under such a serious context too. Jungkook still doesn’t look like he understands, so he just shakes his head. “How would you know that? Neither of us have written anything on our hands—and why should that even matter? It’s just some stupid system created by really stupid people who didn’t know any better.” He pauses. “Either way, why wouldn’t you be my soulmate?” His frown softens. “I believe what we share is special.”

“It is,” You tack on hastily. “It’s really, really special to me too, Jungkook. And important. You mean so much to me, otherwise I would never have agreed to go out with you.”

He shrugs. “So what’s the problem then?”

You take in a breath before rolling up your sleeve and gesturing for Jungkook to do the same. He looks hesitant, as if he’s had a little inkling in the back of his own mind that you aren’t his destiny either, but he follows through. You rest your arms on the table, side-by-side, and you grab the sharpie on the table.

I’m sorry Jungkook

Even though you already know what to expect, you still find the tears willing up in your eyes when you turn to find that Jungkook’s own forearm is completely bare, not even the slightly case to indicate he’s received any of your message.

Jungkook is speechless, eyes wide with absolute horror as he continues to take in the sight of his arm, as if staring at it long enough will make the words on your skin magically transfer onto his. But it’s not how destiny works, it’s not how this stupid system of soulmates work, so naturally it does not work.

“I’m so sorry Jungkook.”

Jungkook turns to look at you, and you see your own pain reflected in his eyes. Because even if you and Jungkook believe, believe with every fiber in your beings, that what you have is right; fate says it’s wrong, and it’ll never be right. Not to you, anyways. Especially not now, when you know your soulmate is out there, waiting for you. And Jungkook’s soulmate is somewhere too. They’re both waiting across the shore with arms opened wide, waiting to treat you and Jungkook better than you and Jungkook can treat each other.

But letting go hurts like absolute hell, and you think that maybe you’ll never really be the same anymore.

Jungkook lets you leave shortly after, a lingering touch on each other’s forearm and the whispers that you are just so so sorry, as if it’s your fault you and Jungkook are not soulmates, as if it’s your fault you couldn’t make destinies intertwine no matter how badly you want it. You leave with tears in your eyes, rubbing at the I’m sorry Jungkook on your arm.

You get into your car, leaning against the steering wheel and taking a few very deep yet unsatisfying breaths of air. You suddenly feel very alone, very hurt, completely unsure what you’re supposed to do now, frustration building up that this soulmate business has to be so complicated when it can be so simple.

The sudden writing on your forearm, right below the I’m sorry Jungkook, is creating a message. A message from your soulmate, who has gone radio silence for nearly as long as you had been.

I hope you find what you’re looking for/Because you have a right to think about your future/Even if that future doesn’t (and can’t) involve him/Just know/That I’ll be there, always lingering, always a part of you/And I promise we’ll see each other soon

In spite of the dread and apprehension and anxiety coursing through your system at the recent turn of events, something about this message and what it holds and how it had happened at such the right time, you laugh in an exhale, choking on your tears as they continue to stream past your cheeks. You press your palm against your mouth to muffle your sobs, shutting your eyes tightly as the tears continue to come out with no end in sight.

You may not know your soulmate—but whoever he is and wherever he may be, you thank him.

Min Yoongi is twenty years old when he realizes he wants to become a song lyricist. It’s not half as bad of a job as people make it out to be, and he’s good at it, even he spends more time than he would like to admit hunching over a notebook and sacrificing hours of sleep and time for studying on mixing up tracks and beats on his laptop. It doesn’t help that inspiration always seems to hit him in the place he thought he would no longer find joy and this complete need to drop everything just to see the end.

For starters, his soulmate starts drawing again. It had been the weirdest year of Yoongi’s life, because he remembers the last drawing you made for him before the silence ensured. It had been a halo of leaves atop of a little girl’s head, her eyes looking up, fingers grazing the crown, lips curling up into a smile. And it had all stopped.

During the first week, Yoongi thought nothing of it until weeks turned into months and he realized that perhaps you really weren’t going to come back.

The desire to grab and pen and ask about your whereabouts became as strong as ever during that time, because you dropped cold turkey on him and he had absolutely no idea why. Millions of thoughts would spring up in his mind, none of his thoughts leaving him with a feeling of satisfaction because most of them involved his soulmate growing bored, frustrated that years of commitments to drawings would heed no response. But he always grew too scared, too worried about what would happen if he wrote questions to you that the fear would cripple him, stop him from letting too much out into the open.

And you never seemed too keen on trying to get answers, so he never tried.

Until that one afternoon—Yoongi had been in front of his laptop trying to write up an essay when it happened. Much like all those years ago, the lines of a sharpie magically start to appear on his skin, and his heart jumps because it’s been a year and—!

I’m sorry Jungkook

He blinks, staring at how slowly the words had been written, as if you were trying to prove a point, as if—!

Oh.

Everything clicks in Yoongi’s mind. He may not know who this Jungkook is, but he can feel the pain in your writing, the words and the unbearable realization that this Jungkook was soulmate you wanted. He feels lot of things in this moment, mainly annoyance and hurt and pain, but also a subtle understanding that sometimes the system is unfair. He feels your pain and he understands, even though he himself has yet to fall in love, yet to be torn away from someone just because the universe likes to hold up two middle fingers to people who think they might have a chance against this.

So he clicks on his pen, willing himself to write something, anything, to get you through this. He may not know you, he may not know anything about you, yet his heart yearns for you, understands you, wants you to be okay, knows that you are stronger than anyone else he’s ever known in his life.

I hope you find what you’re looking for/Because you have a right to think about your future/Even if that future doesn’t (and can’t) involve him/Just know/That I’ll be there, always lingering, always apart of you/And I promise we’ll see each other soon

The drawings come back days later, still filled with pain and sorrow and heartbeat—he can feel the edgy lines of daggers into his own skin, hitting his own nerves.

The drawings continue into college, which is where Yoongi finds himself now. He’s a third year attending one of the bigger universities in the city where he likes to spend his days wandering around. He finds that inspiration for his lyrics come in the most unlikely of places, from the architecture to the parks to the landscapes. But in spite of all of that, no inspiration hits him as hard as the feelings he gets, the strong emotions that lure him in with the promise of beautiful words, when he sees that you are preparing another drawing for him. He hopes that wherever you may be right now, you’re as happy as the drawings you make this time. They’re mostly the same sketches you made when you were both in high school, except with more details and now they stretch down to the tips of his fingers.

It’s almost like this unspoken little exchange between the two of you—you would draw something on one arm, and Yoongi would write song lyrics, poems, lines on the other.

Your presence lingers by me, feeling like a distant land/One I can’t travel through because I know not the path/But one I hope will be familiar in the future

Our words and lines are created only to fade/And when it goes, they take our thoughts our emotions our history with it/Blurring away at the flesh/And in the end/The only way to savor is to remember

We live in a quickly changing world/And we change just as quickly

He finds peace in the corner bookstores, dark trenches of the library and the dark edges of the campus that no one dare trek, music he’s just made in his ear and his pen tapping against the notebook to the sound of the beat. On rare occasions, you and him would share those same flashes of time in which to express creative desires. You’d draw lakes and meadows, moonlight shimmering against the edge of an ocean, vast fields of flowers and endless skyscrapers that touch the clouds high above.

He doesn’t know who you are, but he hopes you are close, and he hopes that you are happy. He really does.

You find employment at the corner coffee shop during college at the age of twenty, having worked other small jobs around the campus during the first two years. You like to keep busy in spite of your classes and homework and essays and outside activities you occupy yourself with. It’s nice to have a job, nice to have some source of income that helps pay for your books or school materials or even part of the tuition your parents keep insisting on covering for you. It’s nice to be independent, not you haven’t already been for a few years now.

But still, working at the coffee shop isn’t necessarily a bad place to be. Your coworkers are nice, your manager is an absolute joy, and the tips are unbelievable—“It’s because you started to work here, we have been getting more popular since your employment, you know,” Your manager would say with a wink, one you would immediately rebuff and turn bright red at because you would never imagine such a thing.

Another thing about employing at a coffee shop are the hectic hours. It’s either really really crowded or not crowded at all. It is worse during the midterm and finals session, when everyone is just so desperate to keep awake and alive for more than 10 seconds.

But today is a quiet day, and those are your favorites because you get to joke around with your coworkers and that’s when he usually comes out to strike. It’s when you enjoy leaning against the counter, rolling up your sleeves just in time to see him writing something.

You don’t know who your soulmate is, but he has an amazing way with words, always recording poems inspired by your drawings along your arm, matching the feeling of your drawing with the combination of different letters you could never so eloquently express yourself.

Your heart beats faster at the words and you don’t know what it means, why you feel so strongly for a person you’ve never met before. You know that there should be a part of you that already loves your soulmate—they are, after all, the other half to you—but it feels like a different kind of love, beyond the unconditional kind. It feels romantic, admirable, a distant fondness as you trace your finger over the words, knowing that they are only meant for you to read.

We live in a quickly changing world/And we change just as quickly

You make me feel like I am everything/Teaching me to be the universe/Drawing me the stars and galaxies beyond/All along the palm of my hand

This is only a field of flowers rippling in the wind/But like morning light like it scatters the night/To make the day worth living

You don’t know who your soulmate is, but he has amazing timing.

One of the most memorable times you think will always been engraved into your mind had been one of those hectic mornings, when your manager needed you to show up to work 30 minutes earlier to get open up (which had been 6 in the morning after you were just starting to close your eyes at 5:30 after finishing another late night shift the night before, juggling classes and essays during the whole process). You don’t like to put up a lot of labels about bad days, but that day had been bad. You got coffee all over your shirt and one customer had been entirely too rude to you, clearly suffering caffeine withdrawals.

You took refuge in the back room during your 15 minutes break, sliding down against the wall and burying your head into your arms, heart pounding, senses heightening, praying for the spinning of the room to stop for just a moment.

As you were beginning to pull your head from your arms, you look down and see the lines of a sharpie beginning to etch itself into your skin, and you hastily wipe at your brief tears of frustration, because how on earth does he do that?

Swinging wild swinging free/Don’t you worry my dear/I will always be there

Don’t you worry my dear

I will always be there

You manage a shakily smile as you lean forward to press your lips against the skin of the words, trying to convey all your thanks, your gratefulness, your appreciation into a gesture your soulmate on the other side would never know about. “Thank you.”

It’s a bitter winter morning, just a few weeks away from Christmas, meaning that tensions run high with the impending doom of finals approaching the students. The atmosphere is quiet, much quieter than Yoongi is use to, but he doesn’t see himself complaining. He actually enjoys peace more than hectic noise, which is why he probably finds it much easier to step out in public and takes joy in spending mornings underneath trees or along the grassy backdrop.

Or the corner coffee shop, which he decides to risk today. He doesn’t make normal trips to this shop, mainly because of how chaotic it can become around this time of the school year. Surprisingly enough, however, the chain is empty save for a few students scattered about with headphones or laptops to convey their distraction. Light Christmas music plays overhead, loud enough to be calming, not not enough to be annoying.

It’s absolutely perfect.

He approaches the girl behind the counter, who currently looks occupied with something involving these two thin silver bracelets around her wrist, but she jerks up at the sight of him. Yoongi inhales. He’s never been overly taken by any of the female population before, but something about her is different. Something else… a feeling stirring up in his heart that he cannot categorize.

Brushing it off as just a fleeting, momentarily haze of attraction—the girl really is quite pretty, long hair tied behind in a ponytail with red and green ribbons, a tiny Christmas tree hat atop her head held to the spot with a thin black plastic headband. She smiles widely enough for her eyes to crinkle. “Hi there, welcome! What can I get for you today?”

“Uh…” His eyes drift from the girl to the menu and back again. Do all attractive girls have sparkles in their eyes? “Just a caramel macchiato. Hot. With whipped cream. And two shots of espresso.” He places the change into her awaiting palm before she produces the cup and pulls out a sharpie to record his order.

“Alright, coming up!” She says, beaming as him before turning to continue writing the different requests he’s added to the order. Yoongi remains rooted to the spot, because the girl has moved at an angle in which he can see the front of those two thin silver bracelets she was playing with earlier. It’s easy to see now that the two bracelets are meant to correspond two lines of words, a quote engraved across the silver surfaces.

DON’T YOU WORRY MY DEAR, one bracelet says.

I WILL ALWAYS BE THERE, the other one says.

A hazy flicker of familiarity, a recognition clicks in his mind, suddenly giving him a sudden rush of deja vu. He watches as you make his coffee, trying to figure out why he’s so aware of the lines on your bracelet, how seeing you almost feels like he’s watching into a house he’s been in before.

He looks back up in time to see her approaching him, steaming cup of caramel macchiato in her hands. “Here you go,” She says, smile still on her face.

“Thanks…” Yoongi says shortly, keeping his eyes on her bracelet. “That’s a really nice quote. On your bracelet.”

She blinks, surprised, before she studies the bracelets and a soft smile overcomes her figures. “Thanks! My soulmate wrote it for me—we’ve never actually communicated directly to each other, but I was having a really hard day, and he seemed to know that, so he wrote this and it just stuck with me.”

Her soulmate wrote it for her? But I remember now. I wrote that—oh.

His heart feels like it’s suddenly about to burst out of his chest, his breathing increasing as he feels like he’s just been forced to run a marathon in a few short amount of time. It feels like every nerve in his body has gone into overdrive and he’s suddenly aware of her, and only her. Like the way she shifts rather nervously in her spot or how her eyes widen a little at the sight of his paling expression.

“Uh, are you alright?”

He inhales a shakily breath, resting his drink onto the counter. She follow his moments, an almost wary touch to her eyes. “Can I borrow your sharpie real quick?”

She raises an eyebrow, but produces one and hands it over to him. Her eyebrow furrow together as he uncaps the sharpie and rolls up the sleeve of his sweater. He begins to write on the skin of his forearm.

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches something, a sharpie writing along her own skin. She can’t keep her gaze on her arm long enough, because her eyes widen as if she’s realizing something herself for the first time. Her eyes widen like a deer in headlights as her eyes continue to stare at the boy across the way as if he’s sprouted an extra head.

When he’s done, he straightens and recaps the pen.

She looks down at the writing on her arm, the extra font reading back as it’s had for 6 years.

I told you I’d see you soon.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi scenario #yoongi x you #min yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff #bts scenario #bts x reader #bts fluff #repost: workofteaguk #traci writes #i would die for see u soon yoongi pls

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celestialsoft · 5 years

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⤻ * GREETINGS AND HELLO !!!! : IT IS I , ADMIN EDIE ! HERE ONCE AGAIN HERE TO POST AN INTRO :~))))

this time i’m here to introduce you to my tenderhearted wee bab of an angel who clears my skin and grows by crops tBH, FRANK KANGDAE LONGBOTTOM, my lionhearted boi who deserves e v e r y t h i n g ( literally ; empty out your pockets and give EVERYTHING u have to frankleface longbooty—— he . deserves . it . all . !!!!! ) if you’d like to plot, please like this post or hmu in my im’s & without further ado —— here’s frank ! pls love him

⤻ * APPLICATION —— !

* ╰ ( KIM YOUNGKYUN )┋have you met ( FRANKLIN KANGDAE LONGBOTTOM ) ? ( he ) reminds me of ( deep loneliness and deep kindness grown in equal parts —— and he speaks, so overcome with love, that i forget we are at war. he grew up hanging lanterns on hilltops to make sure the moon could see at night ; and practiced catching droplets of rain with his lips —— because even the clouds deserved a little romance. ' i infinitesimal being, drunk with the great starry void ' —— tenderhearted boy , luminescent boy : boy frightened , boy destroyed. unravelled by kindness ; compassion consumed —— on the precipice of supernova , he burns brightest in the darkest hour. he looks to me as if he were a man forged entirely of tenderness and the sun ; yet he is the sweet nocturne that plays despite how the beginning of the end has begun ). a ( twenty-one ) year old ( tenth ) year ( gryffindor ), the ( paladin ) is known to be ( + tenderhearted & + clement ), yet ( — oversolicitous & — pensive ). that explains why they’re majoring in ( healing ). rumour has it, ( frank ) is siding with ( the order ) in the solemn war that blazes beyond the castle walls. ( edie, 22, aedt, she/her )

⤻ * ABOUT FRANK —— !!

ahhhhh, frank longbottom —— where do i even start ????? if there’s just one thing that you should absolutely know about frank longbottom, it is that he is a gosh darn heckin’ angel. his heart is ??? so ??? genuinely pure ??? just thinking about it makes me want to tear up tbh

frank is the kind of boy who will charge straight into the carnage and chaos of the whomping willow to save a cat. he’s the kind of boy who hangs out by the edge of the black lake, worried that the giant squid is feeling lonely. he’s the kind of boy who sees the potential for good in everyone & everything, and is genuinely confused and appalled by acts of unkindness and malice when they occur. he chooses the path of benevolence, always, and he wants to keep everyone he loves safe so he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and feels like it is up to him, & him alone, to SAVE THE WORLD and make it a better place. i repeat for you my fronds : frank longbottom gosh darn heckin’ angel. but my god, is he a broken one.

⤻ * BACKGROUND —— !!

frank was born into a sacred 28 pureblood family who cared very little for blood purity, but a whole lot for social justice & fighting for what is right. thomas and augusta longbottom first met at the ministry of magic, where their ‘ left-wing ’ progressive ideas about wizard / muggle / magical creature relations brought them together. their love brought frank longbottom into the world ; a child who was, from an early age, exposed to concepts of in/equality, systematic oppression, privilege, biased public policy, and injustice through his parents.

under the steady & tireless virtuous guidance of his mother and father, frank longbottom bloomed from infancy into childhood with a strong sense of egalitarianism & selflessness that most children only learned well into adolescence, and he had an awareness of the injustices of the world that many people did not gain even well into adulthood. yet despite his parent’s rather strict & heavy hand in discipline, there was always a remarkable air of benevolence and incorruptibility about frank that refused to be befouled.

nevertheless, frank was a terribly lonely child. he was homeschooled by a thoroughly screened, left-wing half-blood governess, and she was just about his only connection to the outside world. it goes without saying that sacred 28 pureblood socialising events & parties were off-limits and out of the question for frank, and since the longbottoms lived in suburban muggle england, frank was always too scared to socialise with many of the children in his neighbourhood, fearful that he would accidentally expose his magical lineage & incur terrible consequences for his folly. shut away in a house of absolute virtue and morality, frank longbottom was a victim of utter loneliness & never got to experience the world his parents adamantly taught and trained him to save … until his letter from hogwarts arrived, that is.

⤻ * HOGWARTS —— !!

frank was a heckin’ confusing four-way house hat stall during his sorting. the hat sensed the resolute loyalty and benevolence of hufflepuff in him, the love and respect for knowledge and learning of ravenclaw in him & the tenacity and ambition to achieve his goals of slytherin in him, but ultimately, the sorting hat settled on “ GRYFFINDOR ! ”, declaring its choice with a booming roar. above all, the sorting hat sensed frank to be brave —— willing ( & desperate, even ) to fight for what is right. it’s a shame that frank, to this day, doesn’t seem to see this bravery in himself. but by the warm beacon of the gryffindor common room fireplace, under the twinkling candlelights of the great hall, and at the top of the astronomy tower ( the stars and galaxies at the reach of his very own fingertips ), frank, at hogwarts has grown to be exactly the kind of person his parents have always wanted him to be : stalwartly true ; combatting hate with kindness, and enveloping cruelty with warmth. he loves deeply and vastly, and he honestly radiates this other-worldy quality of brightness ??? he’s the light in the dark, and oh how he shines.

however —— the fact that he’s already grown into someone that his parents are proud of doesn’t stop frank from still wanting to be better, and wanting to save the world. what frank doesn’t realise is that he can hardly save the world if he can’t first save himself. he’s constantly emotionally and physically exhausted ; spending every moment of his time helping those around him and making sure to change to the world one kind act at a time. slowly but surely, frank’s bleeding heart and compulsion for kindness is coming to the point of being harmful to his own health and wellbeing.

so yeah … … . though frank is falling apart, he never lets this show & he really tries to never make this anyone else’s problem. through the haze of responsibility and moral duty that has always clouded frank’s life, there’s still a profound tenderness and warmth about him ; and among all his advocations and efforts towards justice & peacetime, it’s difficult to discern just how deeply scared, lost, and confused the boy is in a world that refuses to cease changing right before his very eyes ; an inevitable war upon the horizon.

⤻ * LITTLE HEADCANONS —— !!

frank has always been V MAGICALLY GIFTED. he showed his first signs of magic when he was just one and a half, when he had a terrible nightmare & woke up screaming in the middle of the night. instead of waiting for his parents to come and calm him down though, frank simply closed his eyes & focused on his breathing. when his parents stumbled into the room ; sleep hazy in their eyes, they could hardly believe what they saw : the entire room, covered in flowers and lush foliage —— something that frank had somehow conjured up to keep himself calm ( b/c untamed childhood magic be CRAZY ). frank is now able to command wandless magic, which is a GODSEND tbh b/c he’s such a sleep-deprived mess & he loses his wand c o n s t a n t l y istG

being a sacred 28 pureblood with quite advanced magical abilities, frank has always been in high demand for pureblood partnership through an arranged marriage. his parents, have always hastily shot down offers ( bc they aren’t all up in that pureblooded nonsense ! ), but that hasn’t stopped pureblooded parents from reaching out anyway :/ yIKEs :///

frank is part of the slug club ,,,,,,,,,,,,, and like ,,,,,,,,,,,,,, every single other club / extracurricular. baby longbottom is an OVERACHIEVER EXTRAORDINAIRE —— YA BOI DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO CHILL. it’s not that frank is driven by any sort of particular ambition and self-interest, though ?? rather, frank’s heavy involvement in every aspect of school life stems from the aforementioned incredible pressure of his parent’s expectations ; frank applying himself to every possible aspect of school life and extracurriculars in the hopes that he will make them proud

frank has so little chill that he’s actually started sleepwalking … yikes ????? it probably doesn’t help that frank is involved in almost every sport club tbH, & he is also gryffindor quidditch team’s seeker. the thing is that he could never give any sport up. sport is so cathartic for frankie my boi, because it helps him forget his worries & his responsibilities. while he’s playing sport he is just a body —— he is pulsing blood, deep breaths & he is free.

⤻ * OTHER FUN FACTS / GENERAL SUMMARY DOT POINTS ABOUT FRANKLEFACE LONGBOOTY —— !!

THE MOST CLEAN CUT KID OF THE YEAR AWARD GOES TO : frank longbottom, OFC. innuendo is lost on the kid ( he is v v v lost every time someone uses the word ‘ wand ’ as double entendre ), and has only consumed alcohol once in his life —— and even then, it was by accident ( it was in a spiked cherry berry trifle at an end of year christmas party back in first year ).

LATELY, THOUGH, frank has taken up smoking. he does it in secret ; one cigarette every night in the astronomy tower, or by the black lake. if anyone ever found out about this frank would be MORTIFIED & would legitimately probably DIE of shame, so ………….. *coughs* someone pls walk in on him smoking one day.

it’s so strange, because frank is incredibly in touch with the real travesties and injustices of the world, but in many ways he’s completely naive and lacking in real life experience. he is such an experientially sheltered kiddo, someone pls take him out and get him RAGING DRUNK bc he needs to chill out tbH

#mumfriend

takes literally 15 minutes out of each of his days to have a few conversations with a few of hogwarts’ cats ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, what a loser ??

gets excited when people ask him for help with their homework ( hELP ME ???? )

excels at all his subjects, but has a particular soft-spot for astronomy, herbology and care of magical creatures :’)

LOVES KNITTING —— stress knits a lot . he’d like to just knit the entire world up into a snug lil blanket and keep it safe and warm

wants to single handedly save the world

did i mention ????? babe is a gosh dark heckin’ angel

in the mirror of erised, frank would see all his friends and family happy and smiling —— but he wouldn’t even be in the frame. mY HEART BREAKS OVER THIS HEADCANON TBH

frank has a cat named alexis de tocqueville

i’ve run out of things to dot point & this is probably WAY TOO LONG ALREADY ANYWAY ??? so i’ll stop :o :o :o but please come and interact with my son ?!!!!!!??!? i love yall peace out

#solemnly:intros #hello greetings good morning how are u ?#my name is edie and i would die for frank longbottom ty the end goodbye #queued.

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