#I am not looking at a picture of that woman for more that 0.5 seconds

[modmad]

tell me something about yourself

I am barely aware of what Taylor Swift looks like and if I met her I am 99.9% sure I would not recognise her. which I hope would piss her off enormously.

[screechthemighty]

An Essay About Resident Evil: Village That No One Asked For But I’m Posting It Anyways

So, the Beneviento House is my favorite part of Village for two reasons. One: it’s the scariest part of the game, don’t @ me. Two: On a second play through, it actually reveals a lot about the issues in Ethan and Mia’s marriage. There’s a lot to unpack here with that, but the tl;dr of it is this: I believe what Ethan experiences in House Beneviento is trip into Ethan’s psyche rather than an actual, physical event, and this trip confirms that his arguments with Mia were made worse by a) him worrying about Rose more than he worries about himself, and b) him assuming that Mia is worried about the same things he is; thus, his hallucinations of her are more a reflection of himself than they are of reality.

All of my logic and evidence is under the cut. Fair warning, it’s very long, I am so sorry, I really am. Aso, please note this is NOT a Mia-bashing post. We do not engage in Mia-bashing on this blog. Please go to someone else’s blog if you want to engage in Mia-bashing. Thank you.

There’s two important things to establish here. First: I think that 99% of what Ethan experiences in House Beneviento isn’t real, and is at least partially a manifestation of Ethan’s inner psyche. The evidence is as follows:

It makes no sense that Ethan would lose his entire inventory within the space of 0.5 seconds after the lights shut off. It makes much more sense that mind control made him think he no longer had a gun.

Several of the items and information used in the puzzles are things that Donna, logically, shouldn’t have access to. The music box was still in their home when Chris arrived (which wasn’t that long ago, keep in mind), I doubt Miranda cared enough to find out Rose’s preferred toys and the identity of who gifted them the music box, and there’s no way Donna would be able to get that picture of “Mia’s” dead body. Mia’s wedding ring is tentatively on this list, too; Donna would have access to it, since Mia was being held captive at the time, but I can’t remember if Mia is still wearing it when Chris saves her, so put that one down as a “maybe.”

You stab Angie (or, more properly, stab Donna) for the final time in the back room by the elevator. However, right after stabbing and killing her, you are suddenly by the front door again, the main part of the house is in shambles in a way that suggests a struggle, and you’re not holding the scissors anymore. If you try to backtrack to check the elevator, the door leading to that part of the house is locked (presumably From The Other Side, as they often are in RE).

Additionally, your entire inventory is spontaneously back in your pockets. In Biohazard, if you had inventory taken off of you, it had to be retrieved from a box later. Not this time (though, granted, this game doesn’t HAVE inventory boxes, but it’s an interesting detail when combined with everything else).

All of this, to me, points to Ethan having probably never left the main foyer throughout the majority of that mind trip. As for the hallucinations being fueled mostly by his psyche, a diary entry from the gardener mentions that the plants made him hallucinate his deceased wife, and as mentioned above, a lot of the puzzle relates to things specific and personal to Ethan. While I don’t doubt that Donna could and probably did influence the hallucination a bit (she is a puppet master after all), the building blocks were all there in Ethan’s head.

Second Important Thing to Establish: Ethan was completely missing the point during his arguments with Mia in the lead up to Village.

I’m of the opinion that the fights Ethan mentions in his diary were not a constant thing. I think they only started, at the earliest, while Mia was pregnant, but for sure after Rose was born. This is because pretty much all the canon evidence we see about their fights circles back to Rose. The diary entry where Ethan describes the fight they had is dated four days before Ethan’s death; meanwhile, the flashback fight (which is most likely of that very fight) is triggered by a conversation about Rose’s doctor’s visit and uses language that implies a lot of their talks (and presumably arguments) about “staying positive” have to do specifically with Rose and the move.

It’s also worth keeping in mind how much of Ethan’s thoughts about Dulvey and moving past it are related to Rose. Like, yeah, I’m sure he wants Mia to heal for her own good and he’d like to heal for his own good. That’s to be expected. But whenever he talks about moving to Europe and healing from Dulvey, it’s also about doing it for Rose and for her benefit (“so we can live our lives with Rose without it hanging over our heads” in the diary, “We moved here so that she wouldn’t have to deal with any of that” in the argument with “Mia” at the start). Additionally, in the flashback he says, “[Rose]’s going to be fine, I just know it. What else matters?” Rose is Ethan’s #1 priority and much of his concern is focused on her.

But—and this is the important thing here—not all of Mia’s is. The end of the game reveals that Mia knew, most likely as a result of her pregnancy with Rose, that Ethan was a megamycete hybrid.  In the flashback fight, she says, “I keep telling you, it’s not Rose that I’m worried about”, and the one moment when she truly explodes on him is after he implies that the only thing that matters is Rose’s safety. “We matter, Ethan! YOU matter! You just won’t-” Her exact words. We never find out what the won’t is, but I have a feeling what she’s getting at is that Ethan is unwilling to look past his worries about Rose and always circles the argument back to her. Now, we don’t see this directly, as we’re only privy to one real argument of theirs (Miranda being bitchy doesn’t count), but there’s past evidence to suggest this was probably the case.

The thing about Ethan is that he can be single-minded in his protective instinct, and we’ve known this since the last game. There’s a little throwaway moment in Biohazard where Mia thanks Ethan for choosing to save her over Zoe. He responds “Who the hell else was I going to choose?” with like, zero hesitation, and she seems taken aback by the response. Now, of course, Mia being his choice makes sense, she’s the whole reason he came here, But Zoe did still help him out, and she is still a victim in all of this. She deserved to get out of there as much as Mia did. But Ethan chose Mia without any hesitation, would have chosen her every time, and while he did promise (and keep said promise) to help Zoe, Mia was his top priority. He lost a limb (or two, depending) and dragged himself through hell for Mia—and keep in mind, this is despite him being on some level aware of the fact that she was involved in all that mess (he POINT BLANK ASKS, “You had something to do with all of this, didn’t you?”) and after she’d behaved aggressively towards him (granted, that was while she was under mind control, but that would definitely give some people pause).

Ethan cares about other people in his life first and foremost. Ethan barely cares about himself. He focuses on saving Mia at the expense of his own safety and someone else’s, and when things start getting bad again after Dulvey, his sole focus is on how it could affect Rose. I have a feeling a big part of the reasons the disagreements happened, in addition to Mia keeping information from him, was Ethan focusing on Rose’s safety, as if it’s the only thing that they could have to be worried about, and how frustrating that must have been for the woman who has seen first hand what Ethan is like and how much trouble his intense protectiveness can get him in. (Note: this does not excuse Mia from not just like. Telling him the truth, but I have my own theories about that, so we’ll leave it at “they were both talking past each other in a big way and that wasn’t helping the marriage any” because my analysis of Mia as a character is WAY beyond the scope of this post.)

Now, you’d think, you’d think with Mia having repeatedly telegraphed that Rose isn’t the problem here, that Ethan would on some level be aware of the fact that something else is going on. But he isn’t, or at least, he isn’t aware of the right things, and Beneviento House proves it.

So, Ethan is having a hell of a bad trip based off of his own insecurities and fears: his unresolved issues with Mia and his daughter’s safety. We have established above that Ethan has completely been misreading his arguments, and with that in mind, everything that Hallucination!Mia says from the second you see her gets really interesting. Starting with:

“Rose feels different. Ethan, you have to fix her” and “That’s a kick. […] She’s so energetic, it’s crazy.” Mia most likely caught on during the pregnancy that something was different about Rose. They were already ordering medical reports, including fungal pathogen testing by the BSAA, and her health was a definite source of anxiety for Ethan (his response to reading her medical file being a relieved sigh). Mia notices something is different about Rose, probably works it out, and realizes what the wider implications are for the family. Ethan is just plain worried about his daughter’s health, assumes Mia’s worries match his own, and that assumption is reflected in both the memories that come to the surface and the words his psyche put in Mia’s mouth.

“I can’t tell Ethan anything about this”, “Everyone leaves me, even Rose. I don’t want to be alone” and “I didn’t want to keep it from you. I didn’t want to lose you again. I didn’t want to destroy this family. I love you both so much. I had to. I had to do it.” Now, I don’t think the last two are anything Mia has directly said, but they all could be Ethan’s interpretation of her recent behavior. As mentioned above, he’s already aware that she’s kept at least one secret from him, and seems to know something is going on with Rose. If Mia’s not telling me, it’s because she’s worried about both of us, and doesn’t want to break up the family.

This one is a bit of conjecture and my own personal interpretation of Mia, but you’ve come this far, so hear me out: through these hallucinations, Ethan reads the aggressive secret-keeping as an attempt to keep the family together so that Mia won’t be abandoned again. I think he’s probably at least partially correct in that assumption. However, I think it’s also partially a projection of his own desires and motivations (keeping his family together at any costs). On top of that, he’s definitely missing the fact that Mia knows something is up with him as well. Telling Ethan doesn’t just potentially mean wrecking the family; it could wreck him on a personal level, and put him in a lot of danger. So while Ethan assumes it’s just about the family, there’s a lot more on Mia’s mind. That a lot more just isn’t reflected because Ethan doesn’t know.

The final bits of audio you hear are Mia crying for Rose, then repeating to herself that everything is going to be fine. Again, we know that Mia was worried about more than Rose. Ethan doesn’t. Ethan is worried about Rose first and foremost, has misread Mia due to his singular focus and lack of vital information, and in misreading Mia has created this version of events where Rose is the one who’s really in danger. Despite Mia indicating there’s more to it, he still reads what’s going on as being Rose-centered, and the fact that Rose is now genuinely in serious danger doesn’t help with that.

At the end, when Ethan says “Mia. I’ll make things right”, he’s talking about the wrong thing. He’s saying he’ll protect Rose, he’ll save her, he’ll keep her safe in a way he hadn’t been able to with Mia.

What he’s missing is the fact that, while he might’ve been just worried about Rose, Mia never was. That’s one part he can’t make right. Mia would’ve had to; she just never got the chance.

(Sidebar no one asked for, but I personally think she would have, either of her own accord or because the BSAA fungal reports (which seem to be the test results the doctor wanted to talk to them about if I’m understanding the timeline right) would’ve blown the whole thing wide open for her. It was basically inevitable. Doesn’t excuse all the secret keeping up until that point, but I like to think she would’ve come clean. Freaking MIRANDA JUST HAD TO GO AND RUIN IT THOUGH - )

[kintatsujo]

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part FOURTEEN

You’ll see why this one took a while in just a second, I did that thing where I drew a whole ass scene again

Content warning for fantasy religions based loosely on Christian schisms

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

So while Link is getting acclimated to Castle life and getting hugs from Marla and Tonbo (and also getting unofficially adopted by the royal family) Astramorus flies back to the Sky Temple with his loftwing. 

And he has a lot of time to think while he’s doing it; I don’t know how fast a loftwing flies but even so it would have taken some hours on Hera’s back and you don’t have anything to do up there but think about why you got blasted through a wall by a god-queen.  So he gets back and he’s feeling pretty fucking subdued when he hands Hera off to the Sky Temple commune’s gardener/bird caretaker, Maurice.

[Image description:  Astramorus, looking tired and still missing his hat, his hair a mess, is standing opposite a short and round mustached man with bushy eyebrows dressed in the same priestly robes, except that this man has his sleeves shortened to his elbows and is wearing thick gloves.  This man is holding Hera the loftwing by a lead, while she makes a particularly vacant happy face.  “NAYRU’S EYES, man, WHAT HAPPENED?”  Astramorus gives a very small smile, and after a pause, answers, “TURBULENCE.”  The man harrumphs skeptically, then says, “Well, LORD SERENUMBRA from the LORULEAN ORTHODOXY showed up three days ago and he’s been giving me ADVICE ON MY TOMATOES, so turbulence or OTHERWISE I’d appreciate you DISTRACTING HIM before I commit some WEEDING.”  Astramorus smiles.  “Ah,” he says in understanding.  “Yes, thank you for your PATIENCE, Maurice.”  End ID.] 

A note on Maurice, originally I was going to make him look like Gaepora OR Rauru and then Ice suggested basing him on Maurice-Belle’s-Dad and I liked that, so I blended the ideas a bit.  

I think I’ve mentioned that Lorule and Hyrule have different takes on the Hylia religion, haven’t I?

Basically since this Lorule is just the country south of Hyrule instead of a dark-mirror-universe world, Invid suggested that part of the idea might be that Lorule insists that Hyrule is wrong about which country the Golden Goddesses left the world from, and that the Triforce belongs there instead.  I kind of played with that a little further, and so now part of the thing is that their royal line is actually also descended from Hylia directly, except that at some point a sister broke off from (one or the other of) the royal family, founding the Hilda line versus the Zelda line.

And real quick here’s the Hilda of this story, which I promise is relevant:

[Image Description: Sketches of a tall, black haired woman with pale skin and blue eyes and extremely long pointed ears, dressed in a cape and dress of purple, dark blue, red and gold.  She wears a blue and green belt trimmed with gold and black gloves, and a diadem featuring a red gemstone and golden spread wings.  There is an inverted Triforce symbol on her sash.  She is also wearing black lipstick and red blush and eyeshadow.  A sketch to the side shows her making a decidedly less dignified expression with the note “All the finery and rouge is a desperate attempt to fool you into thinking Hilda is in her twenties but she’s only actually seventeen, same as Link.”  Another sketch shows her next to an old man with round glasses and priestly robes different to the Hyrulean priests, who only comes up to her chest.  She has her hands on her hips and is ranting at him.  A note reads, “Hilda TOL.”  End ID.]

Anyway the thing is that currently, the two churches are relatively peaceable with one another, they have joint gatherings to quibble about tradition and who should be allowed to have what sacred treasures and who has to bring the roast boar next time, and that is how a very young novice Astramorus ended up as friends with the man he would eventually match in equivalent rank, Lord Serenumbra.  Who gets a nice picture equivalent piece to Astra’s introduction because of symmetry: 

[Image Description: The same short priest from the picture with Hilda.  He has white loosely curly hair, circular gold glasses, a hat similar to Astramorus’s but in red, a dark red robe over a black underdress, both trimmed in gold, and is wearing a heavy golden neck piece with an inverted Triforce and golden wings framing a blue disc.  To the side are various comic panels; in the first, he has taken an extremely young Astramorus’s hand and is saying, “Let me be the first to CONGRATULATE you, my friend!”  In the second, he’s spread his arms wide while approaching Astramorus and Catena, Link’s mother.  “Let me be the first to CONGRATULATE YOU, my friends!” he’s saying, and Catena laughs, giving Astramorus a rough side hug that lifts him off his feet despite her only coming to his chest, while Astramorus gives her a gooey smile.  “TOO LATE,” she says, “I told my mum first,” and laughs.  In the last panel, Astramorus has collapsed limp into a chair at a dining room table, his hair in his eyes, his face wet with tears, propping his head on one arm as Serenumbra pats his shoulder from behind the chair.  “Let me be the first to say,” Serenumbra says, “How DEEPLY SORRY I am, my friend.”  End ID.]

This is awful but that’s currently my favorite picture of Astramorus.  

Serenumbra’s design is based on the priest and philosopher from ALttP and Link Between Worlds; the philosopher’s robes were red so I sorta priestified them.  The blue disc in the center of his neck piece represents the Moon Pearl from ALttP, which was actually red in the game but blue in some of the promotional materiel, and the blue was a nicer contrast.  The Moon Pearl was mostly important because it let Link run around in his human form in the Dark World but I always liked it because it was sort of weird and mysterious.  In Four Swords Adventures there’s actually a LOT of moon pearls and they let you make portals between the worlds.  There isn’t going to be a lot of world hopping in this AU, I just thought it was interesting context. 

Anyway here’s two old friends having a conversation, image description and a little more commentary plus some bonus poking at Astramorus at the end:

[Image Descriptions: Astramorus is entering a room with a rounded door and a coat rack on the wall.  “Seren?” he calls.  “ASTRAMORUS, are you QUITE all right?” Serenumbra answers.  He is sitting at a round table in the center of the room; there are two dining chairs, one of which he is sitting in, and opposite of him is a comfortable looking rocking chair.  “I came because I heard about your SON, have you still not found him?”  Astramorus, looking deeply pained, straightens some of his hair with one hand.  “I found him,” he says.  He settles into the rocking chair with a long creak.  Serenumbra is clearly shocked by his demeanor.  “Astra,” he says, concern clear in his face, “What HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling while looking like death warmed over.  There is a panel fading from light to dark to indicate the passage of time, then we see that Serenumbra has a hand to his mouth in thought.  “So the queen refuses to see the DANGER here,” he says.  Astramorus has folded his hands together.  “She’s right about my SON, though,” he answers.  Serenumbra is quick to defend Astramorus to himself: “Well- he’s such a SOFT BOY, you wanted him PREPARED,” he begins, but Astramorus stops him.  “I pushed him too hard, too SOON, and with too little CARE.”  Astramorus lifts his hands and grins painfully, continuing, “WHAT was I DOING, trying to teach him how to FIGHT when all I knew was an ADULT’S routine?”  He puts a hand to his chin, still smiling.  “I must be the STUPIDEST MAN ALIVE.”  “Astra,” Serenumbra begins again, and Astramorus interrupts again.  “My wife used to tell me I WORRIED too much, did I ever mention that?”  He asks.  His face turns solemn.  “It was even one of the LAST THINGS she said to me,” he says.  We get a glimpse of young Astramorus and Catena together backlit by the sun; she’s wearing a blue version of the classical Link costume with a sword strapped to her back and plate armor on her shoulders, he’s wearing his priestly robes and hat.  She’s reached up to grab his face, grinning, while he’s put his hands on hers.  “And then she died,” Astramorus says.  He sits up, animate once more.  “What else could I DO but worry?!” he demands.  “You’ve studied the legends, same as I-” he subsides again- “That mark on Link’s hand may as well be a DEATH SENTENCE.”  He puts a hand on his face.  “And I’ve so THOROUGHLY FAILED him that now I’ve put the Royal Family in danger TOO.”  Serenumbra puts a hand to his chin, thoughtfully.  “WELL, you never KNOW,” he says, “Princess HILDA is more of an age with Link, maybe the Triforce of Wisdom will arise in the LORULEAN line this time.”  Astramorus laughs.  “That doesn’t change the SITUATION, Seren,” quietly adding “But also KEEP DREAMING.”  He then puts his hand to his mouth.  “How do I even BEGIN to atone?” Astramorus asks.  “Ahh, old friend,” Serenumbra answers, soothingly.  “If only Catena were still WITH us, she’d know how to ease the boy’s burden.  Why-she’d face down GANON HIMSELF if it came to that!”  Astramorus makes an intense face, as if he’s been suddenly burdened.  Serenumbra stands and puts a hand on his shoulder.  “Get some REST, dear friend, you still look TERRIBLE,” he says with a smile.  Astramorus is wringing his hands, staring forward.  End ID.]

DUMBASS BRAINCELLS ENGAGED.

I didn’t expect “Got pegged by his wife so hard that the mere invocation of her name knocked him back to his senses after over eleven years of fucking shitty behavior towards their son” to be on the bingo card for this character when I started this project either, but this is Draft 0.5 so anything can happen XD

Astramorus is so layered now what the fuck!  

[Image Description: Serenumbra, face full of concern, asks, “Astra, what HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling like death warmed over.  Behind him are the words “HELLO DARKNESS MY OLD FRIEND.”  End ID.]

[Image Description: Serenumbra, face full of concern, asks, “Astra, what HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling like death warmed over.  Behind him are the words “WELL FIRST OF ALL I FUCKING DIED.”  End ID.]

[Image Description: Serenumbra, face full of concern, asks, “Astra, what HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling like death warmed over.  Behind him are the words “...my wife made this chair.”  End ID.]

Catena got into carving as a hobby during long trips but she started making furniture while dealing with nesting urges while pregnant, so imagine this little tank of a woman assembling a rocking chair for her tol noodle husband while ranting about her weird cravings.  

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [17]

Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

➜ Words: 4.6k

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

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

cr.

Marriage seems to be the ultimate goal for many.    And you have to admit its appeal — cute invitations tucked onto tables by bouquet centerpieces, flowers blooming and budding all around the aisle and arch, long trains of wedding dresses, the tulle of the veil, the glowing smile of both bride and groom radiating happiness.   Love is in the air and it’s hard to hate it. It’s difficult to remain bitter.   For a brief moment in time, you forget about pushing the idea that romance is sickly — that the emotional dependency will cripple you when affections inevitably run out, that the imminent insecurity and jealousy will only act to lower self-esteem, that heartbreak is always impending.   Just for the slightest of seconds….you forget to hate love.   “Jungkook, Y/N! Get in here!”   Sejeong eagerly motions you over and you exchange an expression with the boy beside you before scattering over hesitantly. Yet, she fervently welcomes you, shuffling over and draping her arm around your shoulder. Jungkook stands beside you, smiling wide for the camera.   “One. Two. Three.” The wedding photographer snaps several pictures of all four of you.    “Is this okay?” you ask in a slight murmur in-between shots, still worried considering you didn’t really have a place in this wedding. The only people you know here are the two of them, Jungkook, and Chungha who was somewhere preparing to walk down the aisle.   “Of course, it is!” Namjoon zealously assures with a grin. “You guys are our official wedding cake makers. We can’t forget about you two.”   “Chungha requested that we take as many pictures as we can. She won’t mind, trust me.” Sejeong smiles, excited for her sister’s wedding, and she squeezes your shoulder. “It’ll be a great way to look back on the memories.”   There are a few more pictures taken and when the photographer gives the ‘okay’ sign, the married couple enthusiastically runs out of the frame. “Okay, now just our two interns!”   You and Jungkook awkwardly scoot together, but then the photographer raises his head and suggests you both to go even closer. And that’s enough for Jungkook to throw his arm around your shoulders, pull you close enough that you nearly stumble into his chest and he flashes a grin as the camera snaps while your expression is still stunned.   The next picture, you stand on the tips of your toes with the hopes of overcoming Jungkook’s height and teasing him later on for being short. But he quickly notices you and his grip on your shoulder tightens, attempting to pull you down for the following photograph.    “Hey, don’t try to push me down!”   You try to shove his hand off, but the effort is futile and Jungkook giggles. “You’ll never be taller than me, Y/N.”   “Psh.” You stay on the tips of your toes, putting your hand over your head like that’ll somehow create the illusion your height is greater than his. But then Jungkook goes on his toes as well, lifting up his chin. The two of you laugh, using one another to keep balance and stand as high as possible.   Namjoon and Sejeong grin at your banter and the photographer is smiling as well, continuing to take pictures at different angles and distances with no end in sight.   “You got something on your nose, Jeon,” you lie.   “What?” His heels touch the ground again and his hand lifts to his face. You steal the opportunity to jump straight up as high as you can, putting your hands on his shoulders.    The wedding photographer captures the picture, then one of Jungkook turning his head in shock as you’re still in the air. Then the one where you’re descending and he opens his arms, catching your fall. And the one where you turn to each other, smiling wide as you gaze at each other.   The photographer doesn’t say that these are the best candids he’s taken.   “My name is Jung Sowon and this is Stand By Me.” The woman with the sleek, long, black hair stands at the stage. The band begins to play behind her, drums and guitar crescendo. The wedding singer parts her mouth to sing the first note and the melodic song fills the venue. “When the night has come. And the land is dark. And the moon is the only light we'll see.”   You linger by, watching and swaying to the rhythm.    “Would you like some champagne, ma’am?”   A familiar voice beside you interrupts the music, but it’s a smooth timbre that you recognize.   You turn to find Jungkook, offering you a flute of bubbling champagne and you laugh, taking it.    “Thank you, good sir.”   Jungkook’s dressed in a classic suit — white shirt, black blazer and trousers, shoes and tie. It’s simple, but it makes him look good, hugging his form well. You can’t help musing that he cleans up well. But maybe that’s because you helped him do his hair. It’s combed down as usual, but with the bangs slightly curled in, a bit of his forehead peeking out. Jungkook was screeching this morning and whining like a baby, afraid your straightener would burn his skin, but you’re glad you held him down and did it.    You’re in a blue dress yourself, one that stops at the knees and is ruffled at the neckline. You didn’t think you looked particularly special, but by the way Jungkook was staring at you earlier, you’re not sure what to think anymore.   “The ceremony’s starting soon. We should go.”   You follow his lead, sipping on your champagne. “Hey. Don’t get drunk. It would be embarrassing.”   He scoffs, playfully eyeing you. “Who do you think I am?”   A grin spreads into your face. “I’m just saying.”   The two of you find your seats at the left, near the back. The parents of the groom and bride gather together too, taking their spots at the front rows and the other wedding guests begin trickling into the garden area.    You lean over to Jungkook, keeping your eyes straight ahead, but murmuring underneath your breath, “When do you think it’ll be over?”   “I don’t know. Half an hour to an hour? Why?”   “I’m kind of hungry.”   “Course you are,” he says back but then begins looking around. “Do you want me to ask one of the waiters to bring around those appetizers again?”   “No, I’m fine.” You giggle. “I was joking. I’ll be fine, Jungkook.”   But concern lingers in his eyes. “Are you sure?”   “I won’t starve,” you assure, not knowing he would take it so seriously. Jungkook is attentive to you these days and you’re not sure how to feel……   No. That’s not entirely true. You do know how you feel. But you won’t say it out loud.   Instead, you focus your attention on your surroundings.   The venue was absolutely lovely. It was still a part of the resort, but in a more secluded area that’s away from the prying eyes of tourists and resort guests. A few meters away was the ocean. The tide that was kissing against the shore, saltwater bubbling and fizzing every so often. It was the best of both worlds — the man-made garden inside the tent gorgeous and contrasting against the beach background outside. The floor is verdant grass, soft underneath your feet, and the flowers are in full bloom and wrapped around the ceiling and wedding arch.    The reception area you had peeked at earlier was even more incredible.    You can’t wait until the sun sets and the fairy lights turn on.    “This is actually so nice,” you sigh out, speechless. “You know, for the longest time, I wanted a garden wedding too. Like pink peonies would be one of the themes or focuses or whatever. They bloom during late spring, early summer, so that would be perfect since the weather would be good too.”   Jungkook glances at you. “Do you still want that?”   “I’d probably never get married, so it doesn’t really matter.” You shrug to him, snapping back to reality.    “Why not?”   “Love’s gross,” you mutter quietly as the last people take their seats. “Plus, no one wants me.”   “I want you.”   Jungkook says it forthrightly, without a beat of hesitation, instinctively. As if you asked him what his name was. You look at him, staring wide-eyed. Jungkook gazes back at you, unwavering.    Your heart stutters. And you quickly look away from him.   “You shouldn’t joke about that kind of thing.”   He sulks. “I’m not.”   But none of you are able to speak another word. The music interrupts when it begins. The classic wedding march plays and everyone turns around to watch the bridesmaids and groomsmen walk down the aisle with bright smiles. Sejeong and Namjoon wave at the two of you as well as they stride past.   And soon, Chungha is the one walking down with her arm hugging her father’s. She’s in a beautiful, white ball gown, practically glowing as the trail of her dress follows. The woman looks the happiest she’s ever been and as envious as you are, the joy is overwhelming.    Her soon-to-be husband is wiping at his eyes and when they meet, they hold one another’s hands, giggling.   "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”   The officiant addresses the couple, reading a long passage from his book for twenty minutes about what love and marriage means. Then there’s an exchange of vows and it becomes emotional as they read their professions of love to one another.    You feel the sting of your eyes that you try to dispel away.   You forgot love could be so innocent and comforting. For so long, you’ve demonized it in your mind, discredited the emotion as silly mistakes. But with the way the couple stare at one another underneath the arch — so genuinely in love — you realize you had forgotten love could be so sincere.   Not every love ends in heartbreak. Not every relationship ends in heartache.   You had forgotten.    And you find yourself stealing glances at Jungkook.   “Sometimes I wonder how it’s possible that I became so lucky. That I was there on that day. At the right time. And I met you,” the groom inhales a soft breath, staring at his soon-to-be wife. “Not everyone can marry their best friend, but I’m happy to be one of them. There’s no one I’d rather become a family with than you.”   The rings are exchanged as tears pool in eyes and then the pronouncement of marriage is made. After the kiss, the closing remarks are said and everyone stands up, cheering at the newly married pair.   Chungha is laughing, her husband grinning hard and they run down the aisle together.   Love is in the air and you’re glad that you’re experiencing it with Jungkook by your side.   //   Weddings are stressful when you’re the planner or the couple, but it’s fun as the guest. One of the perks that you and Jungkook especially have is being able to pig out at the table without having to mingle or interact with others. It’s not like you know anyone here, so the pair of you have resided by the snack area.   “The catering company didn’t do a bad job.” You lick off your fingers.    Jungkook hums and then turns to you with his arm extended. You look down, finding him holding a chocolate strawberry and immediately, your lips part. He feeds it to you and you taste it on your palette while shaking your head.   “Not as good as yours.”   “Of course.” Jungkook grins, relishing in your praise.   “Where’d you find that?”    “Don’t freak out.” He pauses, letting you suffer in suspense on purpose. “There’s a chocolate fondue fountain over there.”   Immediately you whirl around to where he’s indicating and an audible gasp tears from your throat. Jungkook’s eyes crinkle in mirth and he follows after you, chiding you not to run.   The milk chocolate is falling at three different tiers, grandly cascading downwards in a smooth liquid. You grab a plate and begin to stack skewered strawberries, marshmallows, banana slices, rice krispy squares and pretzels onto it. And the two of you end up crowding the fountain, dipping the food in one at a time to indulge.    “God, I love chocolate.” You could drop dead right now and ascend to the afterlife fulfilled.   Jungkook holds back a laugh. “Don’t eat too much. You’re going to ruin your appetite and get a stomach ache.”   “Doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quickly. “I’m living my best life here, Jeon. I could die happy right now.”   “You better not.” He smiles. “I still need you around to cover for me when I mess up.”   Jungkook has more of a sensitive sweet tooth than you do, so he slows down his chocolate consumption sooner than you even have plans of halting. But he enjoys watching you eat, filling your cheeks with chocolate-covered fruit and sweets. He feels satisfied somehow when he watches you consume to your heart’s content.   He eventually starts dipping what’s left on his plate to feed you, not allowing it to go to waste.   “Ah.”   Your lips part and he feeds you again, but this time, the chocolate accidentally drips onto Jungkook’s hand. He curses, pulling up his white sleeve to not get it stained, but before he can grab a napkin to wipe himself off, your hand clasps around his wrist.   Without thinking twice, you pull his hand to your mouth and you lick off the chocolate. Your warm tongue runs along his skin, cleaning the mess. It takes only three seconds. But in the meanwhile, your pupils flicker up to look into Jungkook’s. Directly. Boldly.   His Adam’s apple visibly bobs in his throat. Sweat begins to collect at his hairline but by then, you’ve already let go and turned away. You’re nonchalant. Your attention returns back to the chocolate fountain and you’re fucking humming, continuing to pig out.   Jungkook cusses in his mind.    You’re a vixen. A damn witch.   But there’s no time to react or linger. Not when you’ve obviously moved on and haven’t thought much about your action. Not when the married couple arrives at the reception area and everybody takes their seats again.    “Thank you everyone for taking the time to come here for us.” Everyone raises their glasses of champagne. “We really appreciate it.”   “I’d also like to thank my older sister, Sejeong, and Namjoon for making such a beautiful wedding cake.” Chungha grins. “It was a surprise, but it’s better than I could’ve ever imagined and it was one less thing to worry about, so thank you. I knew I could trust you.”   “Please,” Sejeong says aloud, “It’s my job.”   There’s shared laughter and the bride carries on, “And thank you to Jungkook and Y/N as well for helping out with my sister’s shop and making the cake. I’m sure it would’ve been a lot more stressful without your help.”   You’re bashful under the attention, but soon enough, the speeches and toasts move onto different people in the room. The maid of honour shares a long story about how the couple met and the best man wishes the pair a wonderful future.    Not long after, the food finally gets served as the wedding singer continues her performance.   You get mashed potatoes as an appetizer and steal part of Jungkook’s scallop dish. He feigns a glare, but then the two of you are splitting each other’s food family style to get a variety of tastes. The main course consists of filet mignon for Jungkook and pumpkin ravioli for you.   You enjoy the meal for the most part, only slightly uncomfortable by the old woman in a floral dress who keeps glancing at you and Jungkook with a smile. And right before dessert is served, the stranger across the table seems to crack.   “How do you two know the bride and groom?” her voice croaks as she nosily asks.   “Oh. We just helped make the wedding cake.”   “We’re the bride’s sister’s interns,” Jungkook adds.   “Nice to meet you.” Her dainty, wrinkled hand shakes your hand and Jungkook’s. “I’m the groom’s great aunt. Such a lovely wedding, isn’t it?”   “Yes, it is.”   “The food’s great too.”   The old woman's eyes glimmer of mirth. “So how long have you both been together?”   You choke on your ravioli — Jungkook wheezes mid-sip of his water, coughing and sputtering. He pounds his chest. The pair of you look at one another, eyes rounded and wide.   “Oh...we’re not...uh….”   “No need to be shy.” Her hand bats the air. “There’s no need to hide anything, don’t worry.”   “Umm...well, we’ve known each other for a while now,” Jungkook says and you give him a look. Technically, it’s not a lie.   “Are you both considering getting married any time soon?”   The proposition gives you whiplash, but after working in the food industry for so long, you’ve perfected maintaining a calm disposition. Even if the smile you offer is stiff. “Oh, no. We’re still very young, so I don’t think so. Not at all.”   “There’s nothing wrong with getting married when you’re young,” she tells. “Back in my day, kids got married at eighteen. Right out of school. Better early than never was always my motto. If you know you’re good for each other, there’s no point in waiting.”   “Uhhh….” You’re not sure what to say to that.   Luckily, Jungkook jumps in and easily uses his infamous Jeon charms. “If I propose too soon, she’ll get bored of me. I’d prefer to keep her on her toes a little while longer.”   The old lady laughs heartily. “That’s a dangerous game, boy. If you don’t put a ring on it soon, she might just run off with another boy and you’d surely regret it then.”   He shakes his head. “She wouldn’t. It may not look like it, but she’s head over heels for me. She’d come chasing me.”   That seems to poke the old lady’s funny bone, but your mouth has dropped open. “I would not.”   “Sure about that?” Jungkook smirks impishly. “I might just run off with another miss if you’re not nice enough to me, Y/N.”   “Psh. I’d like to see you try, Jeon Jungkook.”   “You two are just too cute.” The old lady sighs wistfully. “Reminds me of my late husband and I. I know love when I see it.”   The meal eventually ends and the old lady wobbles off to mingle at another table with people she’s more familiar with — but as she bids farewell, she chides Jungkook to marry you already. And when she’s gone, he shifts to wiggle his brows at you.   You tell him that if he gets down on one knee tonight, you’ll slap him.   Fortunately, Jungkook has no such plans. Instead, the pair of you spend your time watching the sunset on the beach. The sky is painted in tangerine and rosy hues, the ocean reflecting the horizon and once it becomes dark enough, all the fairy lights flicker on. The venue becomes illuminated by the dim and soft mosaic of colours.   You feel ticklish and pink inside — stomach full of food, alcohol making it easy to loosen up, the amorous atmosphere a hatchery for hopeless romantics. You watch the first dance, listening to the smooth voice of the wedding singer and the warm sounds of the band. “Wise men say only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you.”   The bride moves in sync with the groom, her dress gliding across the floor. Their hands are clasped together, feet moving slowly, eyes staring at one another. It’s magical to be an observer and it makes you wonder what it’s like to be there, to know you can live the rest of your life with the person you’ve chosen.   When the others trickle onto the dance floor, you watch them too.   And Jungkook soon returns, having gone to the bathroom and then taking a quick walk around. He finds you enjoying yourself in a rare carefree state, simply swaying to the melody in your seat.   His smile becomes tender.   “Go dance.”   You scoff. “I’m not going to dance by myself.”   “Then dance with me.” Jungkook takes your hand, pulling you up on your feet. “Come on,” he convinces when he sees your reluctance. “This is the only time I’ll ever dance. Are you really going to give up on this chance?”   You let him pull you on the floor right as another song begins.    It’s an older song — another slow one — fuzzy sounds that melts all around you. The wedding singer’s voice is sweet, drums providing a steady beat. The staccato of the bass is resonant and velvety with the lithe sound of the piano. “Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’. Birds singing in the sycamore tree. Dream a little dream of me.”   But what should be romantic is terribly awkward.   Jungkook’s hands are placed tensely on your waist while yours are plopped on top of his shoulders. It’s as if you’ve been propelled back to the past — fifteen years old at a school dance with your crush, not sure where to look, how close to be, how to touch one another and be polite about it.    You wince when he steps on your foot.   “Ow.”   “Sorry.”   “I thought you danced, Jeon Jungkook.”   The boy’s brows knit together. “Who says?”   “I thought you could do everything,” you tease and this time, he’s the one lightly scoffing with a small smile tugging at his lips.   Soon, Jungkook steps on your foot again and you mutter cusses in his ear. It makes him laugh, but you swear the third time he steps on your toes, it’s intentional.   “Say ‘Night-ie night’ and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me. While I'm alone and blue as can be. Dream a little dream of me.”   The crowd on the dance floor is moving together — old married couples and the young ones holding each other securely to kids twirling with each other. Eventually, the music relaxes you enough that you melt into Jungkook’s arms and he falls into a rhythm, no longer stepping on any toes.    Your arms are looped around his neck, your fingers locked together. His hands are tenderly on the dips of your waist. The two of you sway with one another. There’s nowhere to look but directly into his eyes and you find his gaze fixed onto yours. As if your irises are the most interesting kaleidoscopes in the world.   Jungkook makes you nervous. He makes your palms sweaty, your steps unsure and seemingly unpracticed.   “Can you stop looking at me like that?” you murmur. In this party of people, only he can hear you above the music. It’s much too intimate.   “Like what?”   “Like you love me.”   “But I do love you.”   He tugs you closer and you search his eyes, brows furrowing unintentionally. You quietly scold him, “You can’t say that, Jungkook.”   “Why not?” he asks in a whisper.   “Because what does it mean for us?”   “Can’t friends love each other?”   “I—”   “I’m kidding.” Jungkook smiles gently, the corners of his mouth quirking. “Well, not really.”   The slow song encases you and Jungkook into a private bubble. The dim lights make his doe eyes sparkle even more than usual — like there are actual stars captured within them, like he’s snapped a picture of the night sky on a Summer night and kept them there. “Stars fading but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss. I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear. Just saying this.”   You never realized how much you love Jungkook’s eyes.   “Hey, can I ask you something?” he pipes up again in a gentle murmur as to not disturb the delicate moment between you two. “It’s not about me, but I have a friend who doesn’t really know what to do...”   “What is it?”   “He’s in love with his best friend who’s head over heels for some other guy and is still heartbroken over him even after so much time has passed. My friend really loves her, but he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship they have because it’s important to him.”   You hum a low note, corners of your mouth pulling. “Well, if this best friend is dancing with your friend, sharing the same bed together every night, and spending their days together, she’s probably not heartbroken after that guy anymore.”   Jungkook’s grip on you tightens, not too much that it hurts, but securely enough to keep you from floating away.    He swallows hard. “So you think he should go for it?”   “I think he should take it slow,” you hum. “Even if he values their friendship, once you’ve caught feelings, there’s not much you can do. I have personal experience on this topic, so I would know.”   “Would you now?” A boyish grin spreads into his cheeks, one that makes him look even younger.    “I think this friend of yours should take his chances.” You lean your head on his shoulder, relishing in his body heat. “Sounds like his best friend might just agree.”   Jungkook holds you close. The two of you sway together, enjoying the moment.   “Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be. Dream a little dream of me.”   The fuzzy song fades as it ends. The last note holds the air. And with it, the spell breaks.   You pull yourself away from Jungkook’s arms, offering a small smile. It’s awkward, so you quickly turn away to return to your spot at the table. But then….   There’s a call of your name—   “Y/N.”   As you spin around, Jungkook tugs you in by your waist. Your lips meet his.   Your mouths collide together right as another song begins — one you don’t pay any attention to, where you can’t even discern the lyrics. Not when your heart rate is pounding in your eardrums.   It’s a soft brush of the surfaces of your lips, a timid touch, but soon, you’re eagerly deepening the kiss. You’re surrounded in Jungkook and everything that is him — the scent of fresh laundry and his cologne, giving into the velvet texture of his soft lips, reveling in the warmth of his skin that brings heat onto your cheeks.   Your hands slink to the back of his neck, sinking your fingers into the little hair there. Your eyes shut and Jungkook sneaks in a long peek at you, soaking in your pleasured expression before his own lids flutter closed. Your nose bumps together and he easily tilts his head, kissing you tenderly, but eagerly underneath the pretty lights.    Jungkook kisses you and kisses you, like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. But really, he should’ve done this a long time ago — maybe that time underneath the mistletoe all those months ago.   So he makes up for the lost time, tasting your lipstick curiously, smearing it shamelessly, getting it all over his own mouth.    It’s hot, breathy, and when the pair of you pull apart, the thin thread of saliva between your mouths break. You stumble back on your heels, catching yourself on weak knees. You try to remember how to breathe properly.   Jungkook’s own chest is heaving and he shakes his head, wearing an infectious smile. He wipes his lips wet with your saliva haphazardly with the back of his hand.   “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that for.”   You laugh, grabbing his tie roughly. You tug your best friend closer. “Then shut up and do it again.”   The both of you are in the middle of the dance floor, underneath the lights, but none of you pay any mind.   This time when Jungkook kisses you, he’s grinning against your mouth and you can’t help but smile too.

[ubemango]

not a request but more of a suggestion but i’d love to read about unko jaykay meeting soonbok for the first time 🥺

This hurt me SOOOO bad oh my gosh x_x tw mentions of blood

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He gets the call at exactly two AM. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard Yoongi this frazzled before.

“She’s—she’s being cleaned up right now. When you get here just text me. I’ll come pick you up from the lobby. And can you get me something from Starbucks while you’re at it?”

Jeongguk visits a drive-thru and buys a cake pop with coffee, as a treat. It’s too late to find a flower shop so he figures a tiny confection will express the sentiments of congratulations on becoming a dad nicely enough.

Yoongi looks like he’s seen all the ancient horrors of the Earth when Jeongguk meets him. He extends no formal greeting other than: “For me?”

He’s pointing at the iced coffee and brown paper bag. “Vanilla was the only flavour they had left,” Jeongguk says, handing them over. Yoongi quite literally rips open the bag, grabs the cake pop by the stick, and devours it in 0.5 seconds. “Woah. You good?”

Yoongi gives him a hard stare, chugging on his coffee next. “You ever had a wife who’s gone through fourteen hours of labour?”

Jeongguk shivers from the thought. “I don’t wanna know. Let’s go. What floor?”

“Second.”

Yoongi spares him the conversation, guiding Jeongguk through a short elevator ride, gurney-filled hallways, the occasional duo of doctor and nurse walking past. Jeongguk knows they’ve reached the maternity ward when he hears someone wailing in the distance.

“You get used to it,” Yoongi comments when he sees Jeongguk’s half-horrified face. “This shit is scary. Seeing so many pregnant people in the same space. It’s like you’re all in on some volunteer experiment and your compensation for participation is a human being.”

“Is—is she there?” Jeongguk asks. The hallway threshold they cross this time is much quieter. Suddenly he’s reminded that you were in the exact same position that wailing woman is in right now. He’s glad you only told him to come when you’d given birth, otherwise he’d probably be occupying a gurney from fainting at the sights and sounds of literal childbirth. “Your. You know. Human being.”

“Yeah. She had to go get her vitals checked but she’s back now. Should’ve seen them try to wrestle her out of her mom’s arms. Anyway. You ready?”

Jeongguk takes a moment to realize they’ve stopped at a door.

He’s an uncle now, he thinks. You carried a clump of cells through growth, brought her earthside because your body decided it was time. And he’s never been particularly concerned about babies but he feels overwhelmed, thinking about how hard you must’ve worked. He should have begged for a second cake pop.

“Yeah,” he answers finally.

Yoongi opens the door first. The lights are dimmed down, and Jeongguk has to blink the glaring white of the hospital walls away to make sure he isn’t tripping on anything. A nurse cleaning the bloodied weight scale looks up and greets him. Another nurse mops at the foot of the bed. The sight of you half-asleep is what greets his vision next, looking all shades of exhausted. Yoongi looks like sunshine compared to you.

“Hey. You just pushed a whole human out your cooch,” he greets.

“Damn right I did,” you proclaim. “I’d give you a hug but I quite literally cannot lift myself up at the moment.”

You’re cocooned securely in your blankets, like an overgrown baby. Yoongi walks over to kiss your forehead. “Don’t work so hard, babe.”

“I better not, else my stitches will rip right open. Whoosh. More blood.”

“Laughing gas,” Yoongi explains your loose tongue to Jeongguk.

“I smell cake. And coffee,” you complain next.

Yoongi swiftly turns around and shoots his garbage inside a bin near the bed. “No you don’t.”

“I want cake.”

“You can’t have cake. You want me to get you more ice to chew on?”

“Sure. Jeongguk. Look at my baby. Doesn’t she look like an alien?”

Something to the side of your bed catches his eye. A little squirming of pink blankets in a separate cart, and he freezes in his spot. “I—can I look?”

“Duh,” you say through a mouthful of ice Yoongi’s just shoved into your mouth.

Jeongguk tiptoes over carefully. Baby girl Min, 1:57 AM, the label on the glass says. The first word that pops up in his head when he sees her? Tiny.

Her swollen eyes closed, she breathes life into her small chest. You’re right. She kind of does look like an alien. But a cute one, with Yoongi’s nose, your eyebrows. She’s probably the size of his own forearm. He feels like if he breathes too hard she’ll roll right out onto the floor.

So careful is he in his observations that he doesn’t notice Yoongi making his way over to him to ask:

“You wanna carry her?”

Jeongguk locks up. He hasn’t held a baby since his little cousin was born and that was like two decades ago. His dad had made the mistake of asking him if he wanted a snack the second he had little Daesung in his noodle arms and he’d very nearly launched him off to go running for dino cookies. “Can I?”

“Course.” Yoongi slots a gentle hand beneath her neck, using the other hand to lift her at the bum. “Gonna sit down, or?”

“I’ll sit.” He’s 100% sure he’ll drop her if he doesn’t. He finds the rocking chair set in the corner of the room, positions himself comfortably for Yoongi to guide his arms around her.

She immediately fidgets in his hold. Oh god. She probably doesn’t like his aura, Jeongguk thinks. Or maybe he’s too cold and she wants her mom’s warmth. Like a little cub stolen from its mama bear. If she started crying he probably would, too.

But: “Oh—oh my god wait you’re smiling,” Jeongguk coos.

Her mouth stretches upwards for a second, and he hears Yoongi say wah, so cute but it’s muffled noise. She makes this moment for Jeongguk alone. And he can’t help but squeeze her closer; she wriggles, pointing her little nose to his chest like she wants to hold him back. He very resolutely decides, right then and there, to pull at his heart and say, This space is for you now, and a cold feeling washes over him like he’s just entered a new world.

“You really do fall in love right away,” he whispers.

You interrupt his reverie with a snort. “You’re so corny. I’m surprised you haven’t cried yet.”

“That’s only because you’d make fun of me if I did.”

“Just don’t drop her,” you mumble.

“Yeah yeah.”

Wait. Speaking of her:

“What’s her name?” Jeongguk asks.

Yoongi strokes gently at her cheek. “Soonbok.”

Almost as if she recognizes it, she flutters her eyes open at her dad’s call. Jeongguk feels his chest burning from how sweet she looks.

“Soonbok,” he repeats, voice cracking. “Welcome home.”

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(“See, I told you he’d cry,” you laugh. “Take a picture for me, Yoongi.”)

[miyu-hyperfixates]

Water ghouls AU!

[Part 0.5: Meeting Wei Ying]

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

Madam Yu and Madam Jin were in Yiling for a night hunt, where they encounter kid!WWX being chased by a group of dogs. Seeing the kid cornered and trying to protect his very small bun... Both of them couldn’t help but think of their own children in such a position and went to chase the dogs away.

Madam Jin actually brought WWX two other buns.

WWX of course was very grateful towards the two very kind [AN: I think it’s the first time I’m using Madam Yu and kind in the same sentence, pff] aunties... And when he saw that they carried swords his eyes went very wide, before hastily rummaging through the pockets of his dirty clothes. He pulled out a talisman and gave it to Madam Yu, beaming, “Here auntie, a lucky charm for you!” 

Both Madam Yu and Madam Jin looked intrigued by the ‘lucky charm’ that was actually a talisman. But they were unfamiliar with the sigils on it, and considering the slightly childish handwriting, both of them guessed that it might have been the kid’s work. It was more than probable that the kid’s parents were cultivators and he saw them writing talismans and wanted to copy them... Of course, to his small mind the sigils were probably no different from gibberish. And so he thought that he had made a proper “lucky charm” and decided to gave it the kind aunties as thanks.

Even Madam Yu had to admit that the kid was cute and endearing. So she took the talisman, thanks him and shoo him away.   [Because she could be kind from time to time, but not that kind and besides they still have a ferocious beast to hunt down.] She slid the talisman in her sleeves and will probably throw it away later when the kid wasn’t watching.

And well two hours later and the street rat and his talisman were probably the last thing on her mind. ‘Cause the lone ferocious beast that they were supposed to kill turned out to be a pack of six ferocious beasts.

At some point during the quite challenging fight, Madam Yu got momentarily distracted by something and it allowed one of the beast to rush through her defense. Considering how close it was and the direction of its jump, she barely had the time to raise one arm to protect her face. But before it could actually chunk at her arm it suddenly stopped as if it had slammed into an invisible wall. The protective barrier of course collapse barely a few seconds after because the spiritual energy sustaining it was quite low but it gave Madam Yu enough time to take a few step back and counterattack.    

Soon enough after that all the beasts were dealt with and they could finally relaxed. This was when Madam Yu took out the ‘lucky charm’ from her sleeve. It just happened that the arm she had raised to instinctively protect herself had been the one with the talisman within the sleeve. And sure enough, the talisman was still warm and the sigils were slightly bright in some parts and burnt in others. Indicating that it had been activated not so long ago.  

Madam Yu and Madam Jin looked at each other with wide eyes. Turned out what they thought were a child drawing was actually a proper protective talisman!

So of course they had to go and track WWX down again, because a kid who could write talisman that could be activated and properly worked (even if it was for merely a few seconds) was nothing short of a genius. It would be a tremendous waste not to nurture such potential.

They didn’t have any difficulty in finding the kid again, he was actually sleeping in one of the corner of the street where they had met earlier near a small makeshift tent made of dirty quilts.

The kid woke as they came closer and beamed at them, “Aunties, are you finished night hunting? Did the lucky charm help?” Madam Yu: It did. Did you write it yourself? The kid nodded enthusiastically. Madam Yu: Do you want to learn more? WWX: Can I? Madam Yu: I belong to the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. It is one of the Great Sect of the cultivation world. If you come home with me, I’ll take you in as a disciple and teach you. I won’t be kind though, so be prepared. WWX: I’ll come!! I’ll come! Please teach me!     Madam Yu: Very well, then come along. WWX rushed into the makeshift tent to take out his meager belongings (one fourth of a cinnabar, a very decrepit brush and the two buns that Madam Jin brought him earlier) and happily followed the other two. [And that’s how you catch a wild Wei Ying, *clap clap* (and she didn’t even need to bait him with watermelon)]

Because it was quite late at night and because the kid was super dirty, they decided to stay at a nearby inn, where the kid was forced to take a bath and changed clothes (that Madam Jin brought him... it was the clothes of the inn’s owner’s son and weren’t of high quality but it was definitely better than the clothes that WWX had been wearing).

After the kid looked more presentable and way cleaner, they took the opportunity to ask him about his talismans.

Turns out they were right. His parents had been cultivators  - probably rogue cultivators - and it was his mother who taught A-Ying this protective talisman. It was apparently his “job” to help them make it. Because he was “back-up” and it was a “very important job”... And she had made him make a dozens of them until he got it right and could actually activate them.

Thinking about it, the mother’s aim had probably been to provide him with a tool to protect himself just in case.

By the time, he finished talking about it, the kid was starting to nod off so Madam Yu send him to bed. But just when she did so, she suddenly realized that she didn’t actually know his full name. “A-Ying, what is your name?” WWX *sleepily*: A-Ying’s name is Wei Ying, courtesy name Wuxian. Madam Yu, suddenly filled with dread: Wei? Are your parents Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren? [By the way, at that time, news of the WWX’s parents death had not reach Yunmeng yet, which is why she didn’t make the connection immediately when she heard WWX calling himself A-Ying] WWX: Yes! Auntie, do you know them? Are you friend with them? Madam Yu: We are not friend. But I do know them. WWX: Oh...  

About eight months ago, WWX’s parents had gone to a night hunt in Yiling. And because they thought that this case might be more dangerous than usual, they didn’t take him with them for the actual hunt and made him wait for them back in the street of Yiling [in the exact corner where his makeshift tent is]. They never came back.

Madam Yu, once WWX fell asleep, very bitterly: So she’s dead... And I’m actually taking her kid in. What kind of fate is this? Is she mocking me beyond the grave?

Madam Yu could actually picture with great clarity what was going to happen as soon as WWX will arrive at Lotus Pier. JFM will welcome him with open arms. A son of a servant will be raised way above his station, not only as a mere disciple of the sect but like a son of the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. And A-Cheng will probably cease to exist in the eyes of JFM as soon as the son of Cangse Sanren would arrive.

Madam Jin seeing Madam Yu very sour face, tried to reason with her, “You’re not going to leave back in the street, are you? Outside of the fact that he is Cangse Sanren’s son, he didn’t do anything wrong and has a lot of potential.” [Those words are so going to bite her in the ass a few years later when Meng Yao comes into play, haha] Madam Yu: I am not coming back on my words.

Besides she was pretty sure that even if she left him there, as soon as words of their death reached JFM’s ears, he’d go and search the whole word for Cangse Sanren’s son. He wouldn’t give up until he managed to find him and then they’d end up exactly in the same situation (actually it was probably even a worse situation, there was no way rumors wouldn’t fly around with Jiang-zongzhu looking for and adopting the son of the woman he was rumored to be in love with).... The only way to prevent this situation was to straightforwardly kill the kid right now. But Madam Yu had not reach such a low point that she would go and murder innocent young kids no matter how troublesome their parents were.

If she’s going to have to endure the presence of Cangse Sanren’s son either way, then so be it. If she’s going to have to get used to the idea that Cangse Sanren’s son will from now on be an adoptive son of her family, then so be it. But she will make sure that both sons will be treated accordingly, even if this is the last thing that she’ll ever do! 

---------

Status Progress:

>> Wei Ying has been upgraded to adopted!

>> Madam Yu has been upgraded to on her way to become a good mother out of pure spite!

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

Author’s note: Right so remember when I said after part 3 that Meng Yao will appear next time? I lied. (Though he does make his entrance in part 4, you get this prequel/backstory first.)

So in canon (please correct me if I’m wrong) WWX’s parents died when he’s about six and he’s only found by JFM when he’s about eight or nine? That’s such a huge gap. And my personal hc to explain it is that actually JFM didn’t know they died for a long time.

I mean both of them were rogue cultivators. If there were no one around when they died how would it be possible for anyone to know that they died? My guess is that they actually send messages/letters to JFM once in a while (like every two or three years to let him know what they’re up to). Stuff like, “If after X times you didn’t get any news, then please consider us dead” or something. If they died in Yiling right after sending one of their letters, informing him of their location, then it would make sense that JFM would only notice that something is wrong a few years later with no new letters. Naturally he’ll go look for them and search at the last place they mentioned first and try to trace back what happened from there. Which is how he found WWX in the street of Yiling.  

Now in this universe Madam Yu stumbles upon WWX by pure accident less than a year after his parents’ death, which means that he actually gets adopted younger than he was in canon. Which means that by the times the event of part 1 happens, he was already living with the Jiang for something like 4 years (which explains why he has so much more lee-way and is so much more comfortable within the family).

Next time: Part 4 - Meeting Meng Yao (for real this time haha)

[wolf-555-writer]

Target On My Back Part 7

This one’s kinda long xd. Oops. Enjoy, enjoy.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6

Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow x Reader

Summary: After confessing your feelings, Natasha and you are now together. But will it last? Working as SHIELD Agents together seems to be going perfectly, but how about your personal life? The past still seems to haunt you in the nights, but will it only stay in your dreams? Can it all be fixed, or is it way too late for that?

Word Count: 5,523

Tossing and turning. Trying to escape. Trying to run away. Far, far away. A sharp inhale of air, followed by a contraction of all the muscles in your feverish body, you scare awake. Wrapped up in the sheets and the slightly oversized T-shirt sticking to your clammy back. A trembling sigh leaves your mouth, now slightly relaxing. You check your left and your eyes shift over a small picture frame on the wooden bedside table. It holds an old photo, one edge torn off and wrinkled, portraying two people in love - beyond a doubt - who both were stupidly unaware of that at the time. Eventually locking your sleepy eyes on the alarm clock next to the frame. The illuminated numbers read 3:41.

Great… Another restless night. Rubbing your sweat-stained face with your hands in desperation when a calm voice eases, “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, just a stupid nightmare”, you answer the woman who was peacefully asleep beside you but woken up by some troubled movements. Or was it a memory? You wonder. Natasha sits upright in bed and runs a hand through her messy, red hair before gently placing it on your shoulder. “Was it about…”, she strokes your back softly, “you getting shot? Like the last time?”. She hesitates a bit with the question, knowing the tension it brings. “No it wasn’t”, you grunt, making it sound more resentful than anticipated. Now that your eyes have fully adjusted to the dark room, you’re able to see her upset expression clearly, without a doubt caused by your last comment.

“If it were possible I would take it all back, but I can’t, okay”. Meanwhile the redhead had let go of you, her warm touch replaced by a cold sensation. “I have to live with the choices I made. All the things I did”. Lying down on the mattress again, she has turned her back towards you and pulls on the sheets to cover herself completely. She keeps her secrets, especially about the time in the Red Room. It’s a difficult subject for her. No surprise, judging by the information SHIELD has on the KGB-owned Academy. But you’re hoping that one day she’ll let you in. Under her breath Natasha mutters, “It’s all easy for you”, which was meant to remain inside, but managed to slip out. Unfortunately, a little too loud.

You scoff. “What is that supposed to mean?”. With a quick roll - and heavy sigh - Natasha turns to face you. “Like I said, I have to live with my choices. With all the scars I can’t erase. All you have left are the physical ones. The only reminder. But with a clear, carefree mind, pretending like it never happened”.

“Pretending?! So you think it’s all rainbows and sunshine for me huh? No horrible things haunting my mind?”, you snap. She’s got a point there though. It’s not a contest, but if it was, she would be by far the winner. All the trauma she needs to cope with. And mostly on her own. You're not the only one who has restless nights. 

“Okay, just- forget about it. Forget about what I said. I’m sorry”, you sigh tiredly and let your body plump down on the mattress next to the one you’re sharing this bed with. “I’m sorry, Nat”. Caressing your cheek with the back of her index finger as she whispers, “It’s okay”, causing a small smile to form at your features. A second attempt. “But, the bad dream. I think it was about... when I was younger. Like really young, when I was just a kid. I felt grief and-”, taking a deep breath in, “and anger. A lot of anger. A rage inside of me”.

I can clearly see that ‘rage’, Natasha thinks. Maybe a good thing she didn’t say that out loud. You look at Natasha, expecting an answer, a memory you don’t have anymore. But she turns away, deliberately breaking eye contact, and murmurs, “Just go back to sleep, it’s late”. “Are you kidding me?”. “It’s complicated”. “Complicated? Is that all?”. Oh no, here we go again…

“Well, what do you want me to say, huh? Recruited by the KGB when we were only innocent kids. Raised, trained and forced to kill in the Red Room, and after the mandatory graduation ceremony operatives at that same KGB, doing the most unspeakable things, no questions asked. Do you want to hear that?! Is that it?!”

You remain remarkably quiet, a bit blown away by Natasha’s sudden outburst of words, who in the meantime sat upright in bed again. “We’re both broken. You as much as I am. Don’t you dare deny that”. With that final statement she lays down, facing the wall and not you, tucking herself in tightly. This time there’s no turning around.

After a few minutes Natasha's breathing has become slower and more rhythmic, telling you she's asleep again. Twenty minutes of mindlessly staring at the white ceiling later, you climb out of bed and feel the coldness hit the bare skin on your legs. You really stepped out of line tonight. Did you just assume you both could pick up where you left off? Obviously forgetting about the trying-to-kill-each-other part for a moment... A splash of cold water hits your face, now in the bathroom you stare into the mirror at your own reflection, wide awake. “It’s complicated”, you mutter faintly and scoff. “No. We are complicated...”.

A true balance - that’s the key. It’s not a weakness. In fact, it even makes you a better SHIELD Agent. But you gotta admit, sometimes emotions and feelings can be damn difficult. Like right now. 

“On my way back. All the intel acquired”, you report over the communication device in your ear. “Almost at the rendezvous point, Coulson”. After a not-so-well-rested night, and plenty of coffee, a new assignment for Agent Romanoff and you was waiting in the morning. With a strictly professional attitude you managed to get through the briefing. Or so you thought, because as always you were not that good at hiding your emotions. Keeping that so-called true balance is easier said than done. Fortunately, it was a pretty standard op, also where the two of you conveniently needed to go separate ways. Maybe we’re not meant to be, thinking back to last night's heated discussion still occupying your mind. Maybe it’s better if we’d go our separate ways, because, like Nat said, we’re both broken. Some things just can’t be fixed...

Too caught up in thoughts, you almost didn’t realize you reached the intersection. Agent Romanoff is not there yet. She’s probably right behind you, as she had to cover a greater distance to get here. After 15 minutes of waiting you’re certain she missed the agreed upon meeting place. However, she can take care of herself, so the question to wait for her or to continue the mission is easily answered. You carry on. And besides, you’ll see her at Headquarters for the debriefing anyway. Right? 

“Agent (Y/L/N), how many minutes out till pickup?”, you receive in your earpiece. “Don’t wait up for me”, you inform calmly, though anyone could hear that you’re slightly out of breath. 

“Excuse me? What do you think you're doing?”

“I took a small detour. Might be a little later”. Well aware you’re disobeying a direct order, but it’s not the first time. And above all, it’s for a specific reason. You would do it again in a heartbeat, because something doesn’t feel right. She should’ve given an update about her status. “I tried her comm, but I couldn’t reach her”, you explain. Whatever goes on in your personal life can’t affect you in the field. Both of you know how to be professionals during work. She knows that. You know that. And that’s why you’re worried. It stays silent on the other end, meaning they already knew her communication device is not working. You continue, “Coulson, could you give me her last known location”. Again, total silence. “I know you can hear me. I’m going after her either way, you can’t stop me. So if you could give me the location of Agent Romanoff it would save a lot of time and the faster I’ll be- no, we will be back”. You recalled Romanoff's route from the briefing this morning, but technically she could be anywhere. A sigh is heard through the static crackling, followed by a definitive answer, “... Okay. I couldn’t change your mind anyway. Before the comm went dark she was last seen near a parking garage, 0.5 kilometers south, in the direction you’re now heading”. “Thank you, sir”.

Your gut-feeling was right, because what you encounter on the ground level is nothing good. Nothing good at all. A rush of adrenaline is taking over all of your senses as you spot them. Bodies. Scattered around. Dead. Bullet holes in concrete pillars and in parked cars that their owners safely left behind, unknowing what would happen today. But no Natasha. You’re starting to regret that fight last night more and more. Out of instinct you grab your gun from the holster and proceed with caution, following the path of destruction. You know she can take care of herself, pretty good actually, but that doesn’t mean the situation hasn’t gotten you worried. “Coulson, something has happened here. I don’t know what, but I’m gonna find out”.

How did they find me? Natasha ponders while landing a brutal elbow on a guy’s temple who thought he could easily take her. That was his first mistake, the same all the others before him made. When the ex-spy turns around, leaving the knocked-out idiot behind her, a gun is pointed at her head. “Never turn your back on enemy, makes you easy target”, he mocks with a thick accent. Then a shot is fired. The guy with accent releases his finger from the trigger and leans forward, landing face-first on the cold cement. A dark red hole in the back of his head. Natasha looks up. Standing in the distance, behind a red station wagon she spots a familiar SHIELD Agent.

“I got your back Nat. Always”. She sends a loving smile your way and starts filling you in. “I got ambushed on my way to you and lost signal on my comm, my guess they’re jamming it, so I decided to take cover here. Not so exposed and easier to conceal myself than out there in the street”. “Copy that. I figured, ran into the same problem with my comm too. And good thinking. How many and who are-”

The conversation is cut short, caused by the sound of metal colliding with metal. No time to talk. Both take a stealth position behind the red coloured vehicle and use hand gestures to make a strategic plan. At Natasha signalling ‘Go’ you both dash to a different side, Glock ready, and shoot until you’ve reached the next parked car. 

You listen to their ongoing discussion as they’ve taken cover too. Who are these people? And what do they want? They appear to be talking in a foreign language. Could it be... Russian? You fire a couple of shots and take a quick peek. Your suspicion is confirmed when you identify one of their weapons. Definitely Russian-made.

3… 2… 1, now! Natasha jumps up and slides over the hood smoothly, kicking the approaching goon in the neck without breaking a sweat. You’ve also jumped up at the rear and deliver a precise hook on your attacker's nose, hearing it crack, and follow up with a powerful uppercut on the chin, launching him backwards. Simultaneously grabbing your own guns, Romanoff and you hit the others in sight until both mags are empty. Words such as 'get that traitor' and 'who’s the other one' are echoing through the large, concrete structure accompanied by multiple footsteps. Guess your Russian remained somewhere in your brain after all. Nice. But first things first, considering you're outnumbered judging by the amount of voices, you both have to get the hell out of here. Squatted and leaning against a blue sedan, out of sight for now, you slide in a new magazine when Romanoff says, “We’ve got to do something before they pin us down”. Several rounds pierce the metal of the sedan and the windows above the two of you explode into tiny glass splinters. As a reaction you lift your arm to protect the face and slam your eyes shut. “Totally agree with you, Nat”, you shout back over the loud gunfire. “Good. Cover me”.

“I got you”, you return and steady your gun to fire multiple rounds at a shiny new BMW where the attack originates from. Romanoff runs as fast as she can and you prevent her from getting shot. Although, you can’t prevent the weapons from being fired and bullets start to snap off the concrete. Luckily, she’s able to evade those meant for her and slides the last couple of meters over the rough floor to her desired spot. Lying on her side on the ground, now shielded by a bulky, black SUV, she observes the four targets along the underside of the vehicle, positive she can hit them. And she does. Eliminating every last one of them, till her final bullet.

It’s gone silent. All the lifeless bodies, not making a single sound anymore. Struck by at least one bullet, but most of them by more. In the meantime you jogged to Natasha and she asks, “I'm out of ammo, you got any?”. “Nope, this one’s empty too”. You make a small wave-motion with your Glock and suddenly spot movement in the corner of your eye. A gun, gripped by a short guy appears from behind a concrete pillar close to the shiny, now heavily damaged car where the others came from seconds ago. Patiently waiting for his perfect moment to strike. Unexpected. Both you and Natasha dive to the ground, desperately searching for cover, knowing damn well there isn’t any. Natasha is faster though, as always, but instead reaches for your ankle, followed by two short pops and a thud, resembling a body hitting the ground. “How did you know I carry a spare gun with me?”. She gives a brief glance. Your past. Have you become too predictable? Or predictable to just Natasha? Maybe that's why you two are such a good team. As long as she doesn’t betray you that is. She has done it before, turning her back on you. No, stop it. She won’t do that. Not again, I know her. Right?

“All clear?”, Natasha sort of asks, snapping you out of thought as she sweeps the surroundings with your spare gun. “Let’s not find out and get away from ‘this’ here”. With the coast clear for the moment, you both go searching for a vehicle - one without a flat tire - and decide to split up. Unfortunately, there are not many cars in the parking lot, so you go a level higher, but abruptly come to a halt.

“Wait! (Y/N), just-”. Natasha pauses. “What’s up?”. Is there something she wants to tell you? Something she should’ve told earlier? 

“Be careful okay”. You look at her confused. Not what you expected. You can handle yourself too, she knows that. Then a smile forms. “You know I always look over my shoulder, right”. Yet your answer doesn’t seem to ease her mind. The expression she has, you've never seen before. The worry in her eyes, it’s as if she’s scared. For what? “Fine, I’ll be careful. But for you the same”. She gives a small nod but still doesn’t look convinced. “Let’s see who can score us a ride the fastest”, you challenge and sprint away.

The SHIELD Agent has found a possible getaway vehicle and smashes the window on the driver side to pieces. No car-alarm, that’s why she chose this one. Jump-starting the old pick-up truck that she is about to borrow and without making too much noise Natasha speeds away in your direction. Or so she thought. After searching for what seems to be the entire parking garage multiple times, there’s no sign of you. Only the engine sound of the truck can be heard, nothing else. No Russian-talking, no gunshots, no screams. Everybody is gone. And so are you.

I won't turn my back on you (Y/N). Not again. Never again, she pledges, clutching the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles have turned white. Already blaming herself for not warning you enough. She only wanted to protect you. Yet, this wouldn’t have happened if she had just told you the truth. Right?    

Natasha closes the door behind her with a loud bang followed by a muffled grunt. Thinking back to the conversation that just went down, if it were to be called a conversation. A lot of shouting and wide arm gestures were involved. And anger. “Are you questioning my ability? Or my loyalty?”, is what she’d said to Director Fury. Yet getting the same response back as before. No. SHIELD won’t send a team, stand down Agent Romanoff. Another grunt manages to escape. “So we are all just expendable operatives to you?”, was her last comment before the Director showed her the door.

“So, that didn't go very well I guess?”, a voice eases. “You guessed right”. She marches away, almost so fast that Barton can’t keep up. “Talk to me Nat, who were those guys again?”. “Some people I knew”. “Ah, old buddies of yours”. “That's one way to describe them”. “Not so friendly, got it”, Clint states, barely able to follow Natasha’s pace. “I need to find Coulson”, she eventually speaks. She doesn’t care about losing her job. All she cares about is getting you back. Whatever it takes.

Something in his features tells Natasha that he already knows. “Is this what I think it is?”, he asks the former spy. “Unresolved family issues”, she answers the SHIELD Agent. Maybe it's a good thing (Y/N) can't remember, she reckons while listening to Barton’s astonishment. “Wait- family?”. “It's complicated”, Natasha responds curtly and turns to Coulson again. “You know there’s nothing I can do Romanoff”, he says. “If the Director won’t approve a rescue mission, then my hands are tied too”. Natasha is about to walk away, constructing what seems to be Plan E at the moment - hijacking a quinjet and hacking every possible camera, database or whatever needed to find your position - when Coulson’s words catch her attention and make her stop in her tracks.

“Off the record, I may have the location of Agent (Y/L/N)”. “What do you mean?”. “You have to understand, we had to take the necessary precautions because of your past”. Natasha finishes his explanation, because she understands what is implied here. “A tracker”. The silent nod of Agent Coulson confirms her statement. “Great. So we both got a tracker. Just great. I’m guessing somewhere underneath our skin, around our ear maybe. Undetectable. Am I close, Phil?”. The tone in her voice is close to blame. It cuts deep. It feels like betrayal. Loyal to SHIELD, but is SHIELD loyal to you? No time to dwell on that however. Maybe even give the guy a bit of credit, now she’s at least able to find you. “I care too, you know. Very much actually. Please, just- bring (Y/N) home, okay”, Coulson says with a low tone, feeling as if he failed to protect his own Agent. His responsibility. “Good luck, Agent Romanoff”. 

“Count me in”, Barton offers as he managed to track Natasha’s sprint towards the elevator. “What?”. “Let's save (Y/N). I’m in”. “But I thought that you guys weren’t speaking, that you hate each-”. “Keep up Nat, we had some beers and what’s in the past is in the past”, Clint interjects. She stares at her friend for a moment, “...Okay”, and accepts. “Then let’s go”. The doors open and both get in. “We’ll get (Y/L/N) back”, Clint reassures as he places a hand on Natasha’s shoulder while waiting inside the elevator. “I just- I can’t lose…”. She doesn’t finish her sentence, preventing a trembling voice from being heard. “I know, Nat. Me too. But you do have a plan, right?”. “Of course I do. Plan H. Let’s pay my old pals an unexpected visit they won’t ever forget”.

Waking up. Disoriented. A sharp pain originates from the back of your neck when you try to lift your head up. Earpiece gone. Weapons gone. And hands zip-tied against the back of a firm, metal chair. Ankles secured too. Very, very tight. They’re thorough, you have to give them that. You carefully look around, a dimly lit, chilly, abandoned warehouse. The windows covering the high ceiling are barely providing any sunlight to pass through, coated by layers of filth. Seriously in need of a proper cleaning. Which basically applies to this entire grimy place. Long overdue. It’s better to just demolish the ghost property into a pile of useless bricks - with your abductors still in it. Well, one can wish. A cold shiver passes through your spine. Why not some central heated motel room of sorts? Guess that’s not how the KGB does things. Counting three grumpy, square-shouldered guards watching over you. Maybe more behind, you don’t know, they’re out of your field of vision. The eyes of the three in sight are burning right through you, definitely not thinking friendly thoughts. What do they want with me? Are they after SHIELD intel? Or do they want to settle an old score? Meaning, I’m dead.

Someone enters. An officer it seems, judging by the uniform. He appears overly confident. Full of himself. Someone who uses others to do the dirty work for him. Because he can. Though, he seems more than capable of committing horrible acts to a human being without even feeling a pinch of remorse. At the sight of him your heart starts beating faster, throbbing against your chest. A wave of pure rage flows over you. Why? Maybe it's his attitude that you don’t like, seeing that the other men are afraid of him. Or simply because he's the reason that you're here.

“Tying off loose ends? Shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble”, you mock, sitting straight up and squaring your shoulders, meanwhile trying to find a way to break free from those zip-ties that are eagerly digging into your skin. He laughs. “Kill you?”. With a small wave of his hand the now less crouchy, more anxious-looking guards lower their guns which were cravingly pointed at you this whole time. “That’s what you guys do with traitors right?”. He laughs again and a stern expression surfaces. “It hurts you’d ever think I would do such a thing to you”. To me? What the hell does that mean? You stop moving your arms. It seems as if he recognizes you, as the other men around also seem to. Not that strange considering you’ve been a KGB operative once, but you obviously don’t recognize them. Not even your own dad.

“I'm certain (Y/N) is still alive”. “How so?”. “You really want to know Barton?”, she requests over the loud mechanical humming, giving him a choice before there’s no turning back. A positive nod from Barton made Romanoff begin. As clear and concise as possible she explains her past, starting in the Red Room. “One day a new ‘recruit’ arrived, only a few years older than the rest of us girls. An outsider. Everybody would think twice before engaging. But I didn’t. We stuck together through it all, trying to survive, and became inseparable”. Clint notices the pain in her eyes. She continues and tells that after spending time together, you began to trust each other. You’d told her about the life before, because you, apart from the others, remembered. That your dad was a fierce man working for the KGB, probably the reason why everyone avoided you. Afraid of you, but especially for your dad. “I suspect that (Y/N)’s mother is the reason why she turned on the KGB later on, knowing all too well what the consequences were”. “Why?”, Barton asks, who until now hasn’t spoken a word and is listening attentively. “Well, the KGB officer didn’t deserve the-father-of-the-year award by a long shot. He was an abusive man. A monster. So one night they ran away, (Y/N) and her mom, who was a real angel in living form”. Natasha clearly has respect for the woman, yet she hadn’t had a chance to meet her. “But it didn’t last and he caught up to them. Taking (Y/N) to the Red Room Academy to fuel all the anger coiled up inside, to turn it into something they could exploit”. “Anger? What anger? You just told me (Y/N)’s mother raised her well, good conscience and everything”. “Because-”. Natasha pauses and swallows the lump that has formed in her throat. “Because the father shot her loving mom for taking his child away. Killed, in cold-blood, right in front of the poor kid”, she says as her voice cracks. “And now he learned that his lost child is somehow very much alive and well. So I doubt he’d kill (Y/N), who by the way doesn't have a clue”, she points out ashamed and thereby wrapping up the story. Clint probably has more questions, which Natasha won’t answer, not at this moment anyway. She looks outside through the small, square window. “Besides, it's me who they want to kill. At least, he wants that”. “Wh- And you're telling me this now?! The moment we're about to storm the place, just the two of us?!”, Barton shouts out. “Told you it was complicated”. Romanoff secures the harness she’s wearing and slides the door open. “It's time”.

The uncleaned glass ceiling breaks into a hundred pieces and scatters on the dirty ground below, finally letting the bright warm sunlight in. Eyes closed for protection, you hear the whirring of a helicopter. Something drops down through the roof, guns entering first, secured to a rope and accompanied by multiple shots. Well, that sure as hell is one way to make an entrance.

After mowing down the guards - of which there were apparently six of - she makes a perfect landing on the metal chair located in the middle of the room where you happen to be sitting on and unhooks the rope. Staring into a pair of green eyes you tease, “Took you long enough”. The redhead grins and moves even closer which sends a ripple of pure energy through you. “Sit still for me”, she whispers in your ear and cuts all the zip-ties with her knife in three, quick movements, freeing you. “Oh, for the record, I had it totally under control over here”, you confidently state while rubbing the red, painful skin on your wrists. “Is that your way of thanking me?”, she returns with raised eyebrows and rests her arms on your shoulders while you put yours around her waist firmly. “Nah, I actually had something else in mind”. “Hmm, that sounds more like it”. Both leaning forward, about to properly thank your rescuer, but seem to have forgotten you're not in complete privacy. “Care to do this some other time?”, Barton interrupts flatly, throwing a Glock your way as the two of you quickly got up from the chair - saving it for later. “Thanks for being here”, you say, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Don’t mention it. You would do the same for me”. He hands you something else. “This might come in handy too”, something he and Natasha already slipped on as an extra precaution, “you already got enough scars, no need for more”. “You know Barton, I heard ex-assassins dig scars”, you reply while connecting the velcro straps of the bulletproof vest he gave you to protect your torso. Natasha grins. “Real cute”, then replaces that mesmerizing grin for a serious expression.

“I won’t ever turn my back on you. Never again, you hear me”, Natasha voices just before the action’s about to start. You send her a quick hand kiss and silently mouth, I know, while aiming at the rusty doors that are about to open.

More KGB assholes start to flood the old warehouse space from two entrances thrown open with force, alerted by the sound of broken glass and gunshots. What they don’t know is that the SHIELD Agents have taken cover, hitting the handful by surprise. A shoot-out goes down until the first men are able to reach your hiding ground. Barton and you start to throw brutal punches while Romanoff uses her widow bites, jamming her charged fists into the attackers.

“I’ll go sweep the rest of the warehouse”, Barton states after picking up a rifle from someone who doesn’t need it anymore as the three of you are currently the only people not unconscious, or dead, in this part of the building. “I’ll join and take that way”, you state and grab a new weapon too, whereas Natasha answers, “I’ll find us a vehicle. Be sure to meet me this time okay”. You grin. “I’ll do my best, Nat”.

After searching half of the unconscious, or dead men on the ground, she’s about to hit the jackpot. A set of car-keys. But before she can get a hold of it, she hears a sound. She's not alone anymore. “Natalia, so nice of you to join”, someone says, “or should I say, Black Widow?”, accompanied by a set of footsteps becoming louder. Without turning around she speaks, “Yeah I wish it were under different circumstances, like you six feet under with me holding the shovel”. He laughs. “How thoughtful of you”. “Guess your men weren’t that thoughtful, they might have underestimated me”. Still her back turned towards the person speaking to her, continuing her search meticulously. “I know they underestimated you. Something I would never do, Natalia”. The sound of a gun close to her loading up for its next shot made her spin around. Car-keys in one hand, her Glock in the other.

Someone is pointing a weapon, but hesitates to pull the trigger. Like she also had, merely one time before. “Why aren’t you doing something?!”, you shout at the KGB officer in anger, a steady grip on the gun handle. He isn’t even defending himself. The three of you positioned in a triangle, you look at the man claiming to be your dad and then to the person you love who stares at you with worried eyes. “It’s okay (Y/N). You don’t have to do this”, Natasha eases, but it doesn’t calm you down. She sees the hatred burning in your dark, dilated pupils. It’s strange, you don’t know who this man is, or what he did, but he makes every fiber in your body scream. There's so much pent-up rage. And yet, nothing happens. The trigger isn’t moving. “So? What are you waiting for?! Do something!”, you shout again, noticing the gun quivering in your hands. He shakes his head. “You’d always let emotions get the best of you. It’s weak. But I wouldn't kill my own child, you know that”, he answers calmly, looking at you. “And what about the mother of your own child?”, Natasha says accusingly. “What? My… mom?”, you speak softly, even more confused, and meet Natasha's sorrowful eyes.

He laughs once more. The evilness in it makes Natasha shiver. “Love is for children. It's pathetic. And traitors…”, in a flash of a second he grabs his pistol, “we all know what happens to a traitor”, and aims. It's not a regular weapon. Not like the ones his men were using. He probably kept the best for himself. Selfish bastard. Regardless if you remember him or not, he isn't aiming at his own child. No. Following the barrel’s trajectory your eyes stop at the sight of another barrel. A Glock held by a beautiful redhead now less than two meters away. Oh shit...  

Two shots are fired, and two people hit the cracked, cemented floor. It all happened so fast. One of them deserved it a long time ago. The KGB officer, your cruel father. Dead. And the other one… Meanwhile Barton made his way back, having cleared the whole building but freezes when he enters. With an open mouth he stares, speechless, and his eyes getting watery. It wouldn't have been a problem and led to this outcome if the now dead officer had used any of the other guns here present. Yet, the rounds from his pistol were not standard. These were able to pierce one’s body armor. Your body armor.

“Don't leave me. No... Not again. Not now. I just got you back…”, Natasha says hoarsely, fighting back tears and holding you in her arms. Her recently fired gun now next to her on the cold ground. A tear rolls down her cheek and she presses her soft lips on your forehead. After the delicate kiss she whispers,

“I love you. Till next time, (Y/N)...” 

PART 8       

Tags: @5aftermidnight​​​, @ohfuckno​​​

[bloodfcst-a]

the last few mornings i’ve had hanging out with @sailorrmood​ have been absolutely incredible for my self-esteem and energy. thank you always for being ready to hang out to dismantle sexism, ableism, racism, and all the other shenanigans we see on the internet in the name of virtue signaling and performance activism.

i’m attempting to return to tumblr, but one of the things that really grinds my gears is the pseudo-authenticity and one-time performance activism via a reblog of a semi-relatable post. i say semi because while there are good intentions in many of these posts, people often just click like or reblog without considering the lack of intersectionality that was in the main post, or figure “i did my part” and expect everyone else to move on without recognizing that the situation lies beyond your simple text post. just because you moved on from knowing people are being unfairly incarcerated and dying at the hands of actual criminals weaponized by the ‘ justice system ’ doesn’t mean i have, or will.

today i really read someone with their whole chest say “i just learned about racism this week. wow. i’m white and i should do something about things.” and i can’t even imagine what it’s like to live in a world with so much privilege that you can really go 20+ years of living without recognizing the world around you and without noticing inequality or injustice. caucasity is a hell of a thing. meanwhile i’m an afab nb black & native so truly there’s never a time i’m not reminded of all the privileges i don’t have. i get so annoyed seeing people on tumblr say something completely ignorant and then use an excuse.

just two days ago i saw someone say “it’s sexist to ship clerith and not cloti, i’d know, i’m a womanist.” << which is not womanism, this is truly white feminism at its peak. i’ve also seen “this is my opinion and to critique me and my opinion is transphobic because i’m trans and you’re missing my good intentions.” this is both fragility and performativity to overrule an actual discussion, claiming bc of some label they know to be a haute keyword that their opinion is right. if you were truly an ally, you’d be willing to accept that your opinion is lacking the inclusivity you claim to hold. for womanism was birthed from the lack of intersectionality and critical thinking, for those outspoken or overruled or considered inferior by radical “feminists.”

( if someone were truly womanist, for example, both aerith and tifa would both be validated as women, because they both have worth inherently because they were born, and it cannot be invalidated based on a perceived gender role that they may or may not fall into. they inherently have the right to comfortable in the position that suits them best and that they have chosen of their own accord. to consider aerith inferior because she is ‘feminine’ or tifa inferior because she is ‘masculine’ or any other adjectives which could stereotypically fall into either of those categories is an explicit rejection of the acceptance ‘feminism’ claims to advocate for. )

and being trans is a valid identity but it is not a suitable response if you use that as a way to silence others or invalidate any other person’s experiences.

i recognize june is considered pride month, but it’s also juneteenth... ironic, given that this month is supposed to be celebrating the  proclamation the emanicaption of slavery to the remainder of those who were still held in captivity six months after the declaration had been legally issued... and yet here we are, 150+ years after the fact and still fighting for the right to live under the same oppressors by a system created to capture the slaves freed by the emancipation proclamation.... but y’all aren’t ready to see the big picture. but you need to be. black people have been. and that’s why they’re fighting for their lives now.

we all still have plenty of work to do, myself included, with dismantling biases taught to us by society and the social spheres we interact in. there should never be a time where you think “ah, i’ve learned enough about this subject” or “i’ve heard enough stories.” even when something is presented to you, you should possess critical thinking skills and learn to take nothing at face-value. raise questions to everything you see, especially presented by the media, and prepare to be made uncomfortable if your assumptions are wrong ( because more than likely, they will be ). who is the person mentioning the subject? what other opinions do they have? are there people presenting counter-arguments? how does their identity influence the way they interact with the information mentioned? to who is their audience? for what purpose are they interacting with said audience? if that seems like too much work... congratulations! you’re quite privileged to acknowledge the inconvenience of having to look at someone’s words and think more than 0.5 seconds about it. and if that’s hard for you to do with one post, imagine someone having to do that with literally every interaction for their entire lives. that’s the reality of black people, and other people of color, and any person that has a label that has defined them as “other.” remember, too, that these labels do not exist independently of one another, that they stack, and that a person can easily have multiple privileges, or on the flip side, things to be persecuted over, multiple injustices to face.

is it hard? yes. scary? certainly. but you should bravely face it head-on, as i am and my ancestors have before me. for those of you who claim to herald truth and freedom and the equality of all humans, who recognize there is no place in a just world for superiority and supremacy, you should invoke your strength as well. use it in times where you may need to be corrected for your decisions. do not hide behind one of your identities to prevent yourself from doing the hard work of re-evaluating yourselves and the information you share. if you’re to claim you’re an ally of anyone, that first and foremost means to listen to other’s stories and to provide them the platform to be heard, to not erase their voices when they are the most affected by it. learn about new perspectives and then dare to journey into a new world with those ideals you claim to hold together.

i have the honor of leading anti-racism workshops this week at my job, but you don’t have to be an anti-oppression coordinator to do this important work. you just need to actually put some real effort into what you’re saying, thinking, believing. remember to be inclusive. remember to listen. and remember to love. and if you can’t do that, you can certainly unfollow me so i can get you the hell off my dash lmaooo. thank you mutual checker!!

so in conclusion... just do better, y’all. i’m tired of seeing fake woke folks. everyone can learn to be a better ally to each other. and most importantly... CLICK THE LINK BELOW.

https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/

kay thanks!!!

[archergwenwrites]

ZM - Feb 9 - Partners in Crime

Or, The One With(Out) A Supervillain Part 0.5

A/N: This is a prequel/set-up to my fic “The One With(Out) A Supervillain,” a superhero love-square I’m going to get around to one of these days. So Zuko and Katara are not the Partners In Crime in this one, but later in the full fic they will be. Zuko does still have a partner in shenanigans, though...

The terms are clear, laid out after the lawyers his father retains and the brave ones Uncle scraped up from somewhere return from the room off the judge’s office. Zuko can exist unmolested in any area not currently claimed by the Sozin syndicate. Should the borders move, his father will be responsible for the financial burden of Zuko moving within a reasonable timeframe as determined by local tenant laws. Should Zuko come to harm at syndicate hands while outside their turf or due to the border moving before he could, Ozai will be responsible for making his son whole in the eyes of the law. 

Even at thirteen with bandages wrapped around half his face, he had not missed the smirk on his father’s face. 

The law can’t un-scar burnt flesh. 

Uncle had ensured Zuko finished school – homeschooled of course – and convinced him to go off to college for a time. 

Now he was back, in the city that had spat him out. No hard feelings though. Uncle had offered him a small condo in his building, knowing Ozai would not dare to set off the brother who’d stepped aside to mourn a son, not when Iroh’s contacts and history with the syndicate ran deeper and old men still murmured over whiskey how it was a shame Azulon’s brightest boy was forced out by grief and an ambitious brother. 

No amount of profit can erase the thought that grass might be greener elsewhere. 

Zuko pushed open the café door. He recognized the man behind the counter, one of his fellow classmates from university, a fellow engineering student with a knack for improvisation he wanted to ask advice of before he built a prototype. The court-ordered restitution had – under Uncle’s watchful eye – grown to be enough for all the parts he might need. 

“Sokka!” he called, lifting a hand. The Water Tribesman turned, smiled to see him, and lifted a hand in a reply greeting. 

Anything he might have said was cut off, however, by a different mass of brown and blue inserting herself right in front of him. She wielded a tray of drinks like it could be deadly in her capable hands and glared at him with the same eyes he’d made laugh in Sokka’s face. 

“Ah, um, hi. You must be Katara. Sokka’s told me a lot-” 

She shifted the tray – glasses and bowls clinking – and on instinct he froze. “What are you doing here?” 

“I… um-” 

Sokka, a knight in coffee shop aprons, threw one arm around Zuko’s shoulder and one arm around Katara’s free one – skillfully avoiding the dish tray. “Well, what an occasion! My little sister and my college buddy – meeting at last! Katara, this is Lee. Lee, Katara.” 

Katara’s head whipped to look at her brother. “This is Lee? You didn’t tell me he was-” 

She broke off with a long glance at him. Zuko could not for the life of him decipher that look. It seemed too wanting to be negative, but it also seemed like she wanted to tear him to shreds. After a second or perhaps a minute, Katara rolled her shoulders back and looked him dead in the eye. 

“I’m glad to meet one of my brother’s friends, no matter who they or their family are.” She paused. “Welcome to our café. Do try the white lotus tea.” 

With that, she whisked the tray silently away. 

Sokka turned to him, voice low so as not to carry far in the café as it returned to a casual murmur, “Seriously dude, what are you doing on this side of town?” 

“Am I really only allowed in basically three city blocks?” 

“No, but,” Sokka sighed. “Katara has not processed her grief at all. She still kinda blames all firebenders.” 

“It’s been how many years?” 

“Each in their own time, buddy. Not all of us have the budget for excellent, too-secure-for-the-mob-to-hurt therapists because our daddy shoved our face full of fire.” 

Zuko just gave his best friend a dry glare. “So do you want to hear about why I came in, or do you want to keep psychoanalyzing everyone’s trauma?” 

“If I wasn’t a tinkerer, I’d be an amazing therapist and you know it,” Sokka retorted, moving towards a table. 

“I thought you were a barista.” 

“You wound me!” 

Zuko tossed his backpack on a chair, pulling out a bunch of rolled papers. “You like it, you wierdo.” 

“What Suki and I get up to is none of your business.” 

Sokka was rewarded with about roughly a dozen quick thwaps in rapid succession with the paper tubes on his head and shoulders. “Gross, gross, gross. We will never discuss this again.” 

* 

Katara wiped the counter without taking her eyes off the boys at their table. She was so mad at her brother for concealing both that his college buddy was Zuko motherhecking Sozin, and that he was hot. She was also mad at herself, because Sokka hadn’t concealed how wonderful and broken his friend was – shy and determined to help people, a disappeared mom, abusive dad, cuddly uncle who was his only family and anchor – she’d wanted to scoop him up into their family and protect him, without somehow putting together Sokka’s stories with all the news articles, and also without realizing what that would do the concentration of hooligans around her. 

She poured the dirty water into the appropriate bucket and turned back to face them. Hands on her hips, she gave her best impression of Gran-Gran as she cleared her throat at the boys dueling with Zuko’s paper as their fencing foils, who had half the other patrons concerned for their personal space and the other half smiling. 

Sokka, well-attuned to such a cough from living with Gran-Gran, lowered his “sword” and turned to look at her. This meant that Zuko - who had no similar instincts apparently – thrust his “sword” right into the center of Sokka’s back. The paper crumpled instantly, Sokka jumped about half a foot in the air, and Zuko reacted in horror, trying to flatten the paper back out. “Shit, shit, I needed that one!” 

She couldn’t help herself. She laughed, more than she had in weeks since she started her newest evening project. “Maybe you should take this to the break room, Sokka?” 

Her brother looked up from trying to de-crease some sort of blueprint. “Genius. You’re the best, Katara.” He grabbed Zuko’s backpack, and led the other boy in the charge back behind the counter. She tried to smile warmly at both him and Zuko as they rushed past. 

One of the concerned patrons, a petite Earth Kingdom woman, came to the counter for another pot of tea and also ask, “Was that, did your brother just run off with a Sozin?” 

Katara tilted her head to the side, a perfect picture of confusion. “What would we be doing inviting a Sozin into our café?” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. You’re right. You just seemed so confrontational at first.” 

“Well, have you ever learned your brother has cute friends he hasn’t introduced you to?” Katara asked, pouring the hot water into a clean tea pot, the bending to stop even a single drop from spilling the one bit of bending she allowed herself in public. 

“He is cute, isn’t he? Your brother, too.” 

Katara chuckled. “Half price on the tea if you promise never to tell him?” 

“Isn’t it already half off for being a refill?” 

“You see the genius of my plan, then.” The customer chuckled and paid, leaving Katara to breathe a discreet sigh of relief. Honestly, she was keeping too many secrets these days, even if for good reasons. 

Moonrise could not come soon enough.

[wannawrite]

Best Of Both Worlds

who?: Wanna One’s Park Woojin

genre: 🌸

type: scenario

word count: 4.3K

TW: coarse language

blog navigator. 

who said love and evil don’t mix? 

love-hate! AU

I have so much to say about this AU

⁃ admin l 

disclaimer: pictures used do not belong to me and credit goes to their original owners everything that is written here is purely fictional DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERING

~

“Excuse me? What the hell did you just say? I dare you to repeat that shit again!” Your steely glare bore into the sarcastic hazel orbs of Park Woojin’s.

Aka the most annoying person, you had ever encountered.

Woojin sighed and casually repeated his sentence. “I really like your, yes, your best friend, Clara and yes, you should help us get together.”

The words took your brain too much time to process, too much time functioning around Park Woojin.

“Wow,” you drawled. “I lost brain cells trying to comprehend your words so bye, time for me to leave.”

The most, you managed to amble two steps away from him before e caught your elbow.

“Let me go you idiot! Or I’m going to yell to this whole neighbourhood that you bullied me!” You threatened, beyond angered.

Reluctantly, Woojin released his grip on your arm.

“Why should I even help you? Clara has a heart of a puppy! She can’t even harm a damn fly! Why her?” you groaned, picturing a harmful image of Park Woojin and Clara together.

He was the embodiment of the devil while she was the angel who was in charge of the choir in heaven. As a couple, it would be awful.

Disgusting.

Woojin beamed happily. “Because you love your best friend and you want her to be happy,” he explained like he was stating the obvious.

Giving him a once over - just in case he changed in 0.5 seconds, you decided that he was definitely not cut out to be boyfriend material, let alone Clara’s sort of boyfriend material.

You snorted. “She’ll be miserable with you! What kind of guy pours his milk into a bowl before the cereal. Uncultured! Strike one!”

Woojin frowned, teeth gritted. “That was one! time when we were 8 years old!”

Then, as if a light bulb flickered on inside his rather dull head, he smirked. “Don’t you remember when we were 8? And you had this massive crush on Lee Daehwi?”

A hot red seared your cheeks at the mention of that day. The day Park Woojin embarrassed you in front of all your neighbours at the monthly barbecue. Back then, he was the only one who knew you had a crush on Daehwi.

How? Woojin stole your diary in kindergarten, deciphered your illegible handwriting during nap time and discovered your secret crush.

What a gentleman.

“You better shut your mouth before I rip out your vocal cords, sew them back then slowly snip the seams one by one!” You growled threateningly. At least, you hoped to seem more collected than you actually were.

The imagery is really starting to take its toll on me.

“Do you always have to be so graphic?” Woojin rolled his eyes. “All I’m asking is for you to put in a good word for me. What have I done to you?”

Done to me?

A perfectly cut nail jabbed its way into Woojin’s chest accusingly. “You? What have you done to me?”

“I mean, you invaded my privacy when we were kids. Told the whole neighbourhood and the Lee family that I had a crush on their son! Then everyone spent two years thinking I was a slut because you claimed I kissed two people in an hour!”

Woojin took one look at your finger on his chest and flicked it away. “Talk about harassment now.”

You wanted to scream in his face and perhaps tie him upside down to a tree.

Woojin was such a jerk! Helpful next-door neighbour my ass!

You stormed ahead of him, eager to arrive home. Just breathing the same air made your head spin. Slamming the door in his face seemed perfect.

“That was when we were kids! I’ve apologised!” He yelled from behind you before stretching his long legs and catching up with you.

“Sure.”

A sigh left Woojin’s lips as he dramatically pinched the bridge of his nose in mock despair. “Fine. I have a proposition anyway.”

“I’m not interested,” you shot back, boredom filling your tone.

“It involves Lee Daehwi,” he hummed casually.

Those three words. Someone’s name. Those were enough to make you freeze, and cause your heart to pound.

You cleared your throat and tried to appear nonchalant in front of Woojin, hoping he would not notice.

“Okay,” you groaned reluctantly. “I’m listening now.”

If only your complete infatuation allowed you to tune out to whatever Woojin would propose.

Hell, who would make a deal with the devil?

“How fickle of you. I’m wondering if Daehwi even deserves someone like you,” Woojin commented, a teasing smirk on his lips.

Annoyed, you kicked an innocent stray pebble on the sidewalk, wishing it was Woojin’s face.

“Get on with the deal or I’m backing out.”

The boy put his hands up in mock surrender, faking shock. “Woah, okay.”

Surprisingly, he obeyed.

“I’ll set you up with Daehwi, if you help me get into Clara’s good books.”

“You make it sound like-“

“You don’t even have to help me until your ship is sailing,” he cut in hurriedly. “Who else would you go to? I’m Daehwi’s best friend and your next door neighbour, so perfect !”

It sounded like the most perfect proposal in the world. But Woojin wasn’t from this world. Far from it. Down under.

However, because of my stupid adoration for Lee Daehwi, I’m going to give Woojin a chance.

And Clara sleep paralysis.

But how bad could it be? It’ll be a win-win situation at the end.

Hopefully.

Clara’s a strong woman, she can handle herself. Like this, I can also regulate Woojin’s behaviour around her, maybe even sabotage it.

Thoughts like those filled your mind as you weighed out the pros and cons.

You chuckled quietly to yourself and offered Woojin an outstretched hand.

“I believe you’ve got yourself a deal.”

~

It was way past visiting hours at your house, after dinner and the time when the whole family was doing their own thing.

For example, you were holed up in your room, watching the latest drama on your laptop and grinning like an idiot.

That was when your father knocked on your door and announced that someone was here to see you.

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, you padded out to the living room to meet your uninvited guest.

“You!”

Your jaw fell open in disbelief and shock, a finger instinctively pointed accusingly at the person sitting on your sofa.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, clearly frustrated, mildly annoyed Woojin had to see you in your lazing around outfit.

“Well, hello to you too. I feel so welcome here,” Woojin replied sarcastically.

While you were in your comfiest t-shirt and shorts, Woojin was clearly dressed up for a night out. That fact alone made you worried.

Plopping yourself into space next to him, you asked once more, “What are you doing here?”.

Woojin grinned like the Cheshire cat, wide and proud. “Someone I know is throwing a party tonight and...Daehwi will be there. Facts only.”

“And if you’re lying?”

In all honesty, you wouldn’t put it past him for lying.

He scoffed. “Why would I be? Our pact starts today. The faster I get you and Daehwi together, the faster I can get Clara.”

Woojin stretched out a hand, eyes almost challenging you to grab it. “So, party or no?”

Taking his hand, you shook it. “Give me a while, I need to change and tell my parents. Drinks or whatever are in the fridge.”

Daehwi. Daehwi. Daehwi. He’ll be there.

~

“Impossible,” you muttered under your breath, scanning the crowd frantically for any sign of Woojin or Daehwi.

Half an hour after losing Woojin, he was still nowhere to be found. Sure, he had instructed you to wait in the kitchen while he fetched Daehwi but he was taking way too long.

Plus, the kitchen began filling up with hungry drunkards and you figured it was time to scram.

Even though this party could be considered ‘small’, you weren’t exactly familiar with any of the faces. 

Who even threw this party? Their snack selection sucked.

“Y/N!”

Finally!

Pushing through the crowd, you reached the other side of the house, from where Woojin was calling.

“Damnit! Don’t you know how to pick up a phone?” He flashed his phone screen in your face, the device was calling yours.

“Sorry. But you, you took way too much time to fetch him,” you fired back. “And, I called you twice as well!”

Luckily, Daehwi noticed your presence and decided to break the ice.

“Hey y/n, good to see you. Woojin never mentioned you would be here tonight,” he said with a smile.

“Hi!” You glared in Woojin’s direction to ask for help. “Uh, I love giving surprises so, here I am!”

You swore he facepalmed.

“Uh, I love parties and all!” You added much to Woojin’s horror.

To your relief, Daehwi only chuckled in amusement.

“Oh my god! Guys, it’s MY song! This is MY jam and...it’s time to dance! Come along,” Woojin shouted, dragging you and Daehwi to dance without waiting for replies.

“Oh, I didn’t know you listened to Taylor Swift,” Daehwi murmured. Woojin paid no mind to his accurate comment.

Woojin didn’t. As his next-door neighbour, all you had heard for the past few nights were pop and rap songs with the occasional ballad thrown in.

“Guess he’s trying out something new,” you added, trying to seem casual and composed.

In reality, your heart was going to leap out of your chest.

Quite a graphic scene.

Suddenly, Woojin announced that he needed a drink, or saw someone he knew, whichever excuse came first. He left you and Daehwi in the centre of the dance floor with a wink.

Shit! That prick knows I can’t dance!

Act composed. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

“I love this song,” you said, attempting to groove but ended up stepping on someone’s toes.

“Um, looks like you and Woojin have similar tastes, haha! Y’all must spend a lot of time together,” Daehwi responded, somewhat unsure of how to react.

Crap!

“Oh, nah.” You quickly tried to brush off the assumption. “We’re just neighbours. You know that. You’re my neighbour too. Wait, why am I telling you this. You already know this. I-“

Ahh, the rambling.

Inhaling deeply, you calmed down and gathered your words properly.

“Sorry for my rambling. I think the party has me a little woozy,” you explained sheepishly.

People began to jostled you around, so you ended up finding your spot on the sidelines. Daehwi trailed after you.

He shook his head in, disagreeing. “Don’t be.”

Then, his thick brows furrowed with concern, eyes searching for any signs of distress. “Are you okay? Do you want me to call Woojin? You should be heading home if you’re feeling unwell.”

This is why he’s so perfect. He is THE sweetest man on this planet and no one can change my opinion.

“No!” The yell was a little too loud, causing a couple of odd looks to be thrown your way. You hastily made up a believable excuse, trying to smile flirtatiously, “Uh, I just got here. Besides, we just met!”

“I’ll be taking that away from you.”

In one swift motion, Woojin had swooped your cup of ‘whatever it was from the kitchen bar’ and throwing it into the trash.

You blinked twice at him, almost unable to believe what had just happened. “Woojin! Wha-“

Daehwi looked relieved to find Woojin. “Thank god you’re here! Uh, I...oh! Youngmin hyung!”

He looked to you, then to Woojin and back to you. “If you don’t mind...”

Woojin nodded in ‘Youngmin’s’ direction, grabbing a hold of your elbow. “Go ahead.”

Your mutter was incomprehensible.

“I guess, I’ll see you guys around! Nice meeting you here! Drive safely!” Daehwi bid the two of you goodbye with a wave. He disappeared pretty quickly into the crowd.

“Do you want to stay?” Woojin gestured to the most happening place of the party. Sighing, you rubbed your temples and shook your head, kicking the trash bin on the way out.

When you were seated in Woojin’s car and definitely out of earshot, did you begin to spill the short encounter to your friend.

“He asked me if I was okay!”

“He does that all the time.” Was his muted reply. “...But good job, I saw you guys talking.”

Woojin took a left down the lane.

A scoff left your lips. “Of course, until you interrupted us and threw my drink in the trash.”

He remained nonchalant with his answer. “Okay. Whatever that was had reached your brain and you were acting like a malfunctioning Ken doll. I saved your ass from embarrassing yourself in front of Daehwi.”

Reclining into the plush leather seat, you nodded playfully. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

With another turn, Woojin cleared his throat. “So, about our deal...”

“Yeah, yeah, Clara and all.”

Honestly, no bones in your body were excited to introduce Woojin to Clara. Even though she had witnessed your ‘banter’ with him, she never knew who he was. Plus, she was the nicest type of friend who thought of everyone in the best possible light.

Most people.

Woojin? Definitely.

Settling on her contact, your finger hovered directly above the illuminated blue button.

Text or call?

“How about next Saturday, a double date, bbq place next to the library?” You suggested.

“Double date?” Woojin questioned, brow quirked.

“Yeah, you, me, Daehwi, Clara. She loves barbecue by the way. I’ll say you suggested the idea,” you said, throwing in ideas as they came.

A smile broke out on Woojin’s face, so wide it made your heart flutter. You reached over and pinched one of his cheeks.

“You’re blushing,” you sang with delight.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Woojin admitted without hesitation. “Barbecue?”

“Text sent!” You confirmed happily, nearly tossing your phone to the back seat.

“Let’s get it.”

~

You: hey Clara, caught a fever, not coming to school so help me tell everyone, okay?

Clara: omg :((( i hope you get better soon and I’ll drop by later. Get some rest now💖

Right after you received her reply, you sent a heart back and threw your phone across your room.

The fever had really gotten you all worked up. It was incredibly annoying that your immune system picked and chose the times to malfunction.

Such as a fever two days before you were scheduled for a double date!

Wonderful.

The thought of cancelling the date mad you blush hotly with anger and frustration. Maybe you cried once or twice thinking about how the ‘breaking the news’ scenario would play out.

All you could do was to wait for the fever to subside then sweet talk your way into your parent’s approval. They would feel uneasy.

You hissed, retracting a hand away from your forehead that burned like hot coals.

Well, nothing could materialise unless the fever broke.

Sulkily, you slipped under the blankets again and hoped for rest to come.

Somehow, you wondered if Woojin had noticed your absence from school, or whether he noticed you hadn’t left your house that morning.

The fever must have severe impacts on your prefrontal cortex. Who would think of him? Why do I want him to notice? Do I want him to care?

At least, you managed to quietly slip into a serene dream.

~

“Rise and shine, brat .” A voice rang, echoing off the walls of your brain.

“Get up! You need to wake up! Your forehead’s burning, you have to take your pills!”

Mum? But,,,mum doesn’t swear and she’s meant to be at work. Clara? Clara never swears! Besides, she has tuition today. Neither of them have deep voices...Dad is at work too...

Woojin?

Wait, it could be Daehwi?

Trying to guess the person from voice alone was a seemingly easy task for a person whose brain wasn’t being eaten up by a fire.

Strange, it placed Woojin on the list too.

“What,” you whispered, unamused.

Claps sounded through the atmosphere, and a sarcastic voice followed suit. “Fantastic! Sleeping beauty has awoken! Though, I must say you look much more like the beast when asleep.”

At that comment, your eyes flew open and you leapt up to confront the intruder.

“Park Woojin! What are you doing here?”

Isn’t this the second time in two weeks that he has adventured into my house? First my living room and now my bedroom?

“Woojin! Now, I have to disinfect my whole house because of your germs!”

With a gentle push on your shoulder, you fell back onto your bed. “Relax,” Woojin said. “I come in peace.”

He gestured to his mysterious metal tureen, a teddy bear and a balloon. “The notes are from your friends. Clara got you the balloon and, I bought you the bear.”

Weirdly enough, you felt paper wings of tiny butterflies flap in your stomach and heart begin to thud.

“Oh,” you muttered wordlessly, accepting his teddy bear.

Woojin then proceeded to offer you the container of chicken broth stew, saying how he spent hours broiling it. He also managed to brag about his excellent chef skills.

After which, he presented a folder of all the work you had missed, with a sticky note of instructions. It was neatly organised and even had colourful sticky tabs.

“Clara collected the work and asked me to deliver it,” he clarified.

Clara’s handwriting was a whole lot neater and more cursive than his boxy letters.

Still, you played along, not wanting to put him in a spot.

“Why are you doing all this for me? You really didn’t have to.”

A part of you was reluctant to hear the truth because Park Woojin came up with the most ridiculous reasons ever. But the other half wanted to know if this meant something, at least platonically.

For a minute, Woojin distracted himself by looking anywhere but in your direction.

“You idiot,” he finally snickered. “I still need my favourite wingman for Saturday. Can’t have you bailing on me.”

You sort of knew he was joking and truthfully, it made a whole lot of sense. Yet, why did it somehow hurt?

Sensing the shift in your mood, Woojin grew anxious. He gave your shoulder a pat. “Hey, all that aside. I came here as your next door neighbour and your friend. You can call me anytime.”

Reassuring.

His words were so reassuring.

Friends.

We were friends now.

Maybe you were sick and ignoring his usual stupid, goofy side and tapping into the soppy, emotional perspective but you appreciated this unseen side of your new friend.

“Thank you for caring,” you expressed with gratitude.

He gave a charming boyish nod before enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug.

Woojin looks like the kind of guy to give good hugs

~

A glance at the clock told you that you were five minutes late to the barbecue place.

The main reason: the cool, calm, playful Park Woojin was having a total breakdown in his bedroom

First, it was about the colour of his shirt. Then, how he did his hair and how many earrings he should wear.

The past hour or so was spent on you trying to encourage and reassure him.

“Cheer up! You always look amazing in everything and you’ll look even better when you show off your cooking skills! I know you can make a mean fried rice!”

“But, what if-“

“No buts! You can do this! You’re Park Woojin! And, you have me! The best wingman in the world!”

Your energetic pep talk seemed to have calmed his nerves for the time being.

Meanwhile, you received text updates of food Daehwi and Clara had ordered.

It seemed like the two of them hit it off well in the short time they had been sitting at the same table. Their casual banter got on your nerves more than it should have.

Yet, your mind was more preoccupied thinking about Woojin.

He had barely uttered a word to Clara.

Deciding that enough was enough, you kicked him in the shin under the table.

“Ouch!” He exclaimed. “What the hell?”

“That’s...not...how you grill meat, Woojin! Let me teach you how. I think food is an essential part of a conversation starter, don’t ruin it,” you warned through gritted teeth.

“Hey! It's not like you do any better in cooking,” Woojin shot back, clearly not getting the message.

Clara smiled sweetly and awed. “These two argue like a married couple! How cute!”

You picked up the scissors and gave a little ‘snip-snip’. “I’ll chop off my ring finger before he ever proposes!”

Clara motioned for you to calm down before whining about your dramatic ways.

“I think they’re funny,” Woojin suddenly defended. “I-I mean...it’s fun to challenge someone.”

Daehwi and Clara exchanged not-so-subtle looks.

Oh no.

They think that this ‘double date’ is for them to wingman us! Plus, they do look like they enjoy each other’s company.

Woojin would be so crushed! I need to warn him.

“Woojin,” you coughed. “I think I left my...wallet in the car. Could you come with me to get it?”

Wordlessly and with shaky hands, he passed you the car keys. You swore you saw him suck in a deep breath when your fingers brushed.

You felt sparks too, you were just better at concealing them, for the sake of Clara and Daehwi.

Woojin couldn’t stay here alone. What if they get the wrong idea and interrogate him until he is forced to reveal our pact? That’ll end his chances with Clara forever!

This pact was so stupid!

But it did give me some of the best moments of my life. Woojin bringing soup over, going to parties together...

“Uh, I forgot where we parked the car.”

Groaning, Woojin got up from his seat, back to his usual self. “Seriously? I suppose it comes with age. Your skin looks a lot more wrinkly than before.”

Yes, he was back to his usual self.

“You’re insufferable! I can’t believe it,” you grumbled, quickly steering both of you out of the shop.

Out of sight, you filled him in on how the current, dire situation. But that didn’t faze him one bit.

“Hello? Woojin! You have to talk to Clara okay? Giving her a yoghurt smoothie every day isn’t going to suffice!”

You continued to talk once the car came into sight.

“Besides, you were so nervous about meeting her! Chill, calm down. Now’s the perfect time to use all your charm on her!”

“I like you.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, jaw dropping open as you locked eyes with Woojin. Surely, he’s kidding.

Right?

It has to be his confession for Clara. That’s what he’s so nervous about! He just needed to rehearse with me.

A half-hearted laugh let your lips. “Woojin, don’t play with my feelings.  At least give me a warning before you practice your confession on me.”

He glanced away then looked straight into your eyes.

“Hey, Clara,” he began confidently.

You offered a thumbs up for encouragement.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re an amazing person but, it isn’t working out between us-“

A frowned etched into your face and you reminded that it was love confession, not a breakup scene.

“I like your friend, y/n. So, please help me tell them to stop being so dense!”

I. Like. You.

What the hell.

“You don’t have to tell me anything now, or ever. I just wanted you to know,” he said. “Come on, let’s go back before they finish lunch.”

“Why do you like me?” you blurted out. “I mean, we hated each other from day one, remember?”

He shrugged, his cute shrug. “You are a lot different from the version that I ‘hated’. I think getting to know and understand you made me realise how much I enjoyed being together.”

“As for Clara, I was infatuated, we talked about it on one of our many yogurt smoothie encounters. She...likes someone else anyway, but I’m not hurt or anything.”

Even though your face burned and your head hung low, every single bone in your body was bursting with joy.

“I don’t know what to say,” you finally admitted.

Truthfully, your whole Daehwi crush had died down the more time you spent with Woojin. Daehwi was a good friend and Woojin? Well, you had to work that out.

“Can I get back to you on it? We live next door, we can talk any time,” you suggested shyly.

Woojin burst out laughing. “Woah. You gon’ break my heart just like that? Bold. I like it.”

Ahhh, my favourite side of Park Woojin is back.

Snickering, you fought back. “Can’t wait till I set your hair on fire and you’ll feel what it’s like to be...roasted.”

“Oops, forgot you feel that all the time whenever I’m around.”

Woojin rolled his eyes and smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Funny, but you��re the one always getting clowned. Remember that time I threw slime into your hair, you never realised and your crush had to point it out to you? History can repeat itself today.”

Damn, now I’m going to lie awake tonight thinking about that incident.

“You better take that back before give you all the burnt meat today!” you declared. “God, I can’t stand you!”

Chortling, Woojin wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Watch out for cars. Your blind ass is going to get run over one day.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, leaving a shiver running down your spine.

“You know you love me.”

Two fingers gently pinched his cheek in response.

“Please. I love barbecued meat more than you. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

But secretly, once he was looking away, you grinned, stretching from ear to ear and your heart never felt warmer.

[flowers-in-your-dustbin]

Do ‘em all

1. Are looks important in a relationship?

I think physical attraction is a contributing factor just as much as anything else is, it’s not the most important but I think anyone’s lying if they say looks don’t play at least some part.

2. Are relationships ever worth it?

Definitely. Which even I’m surprised I’m now saying haha.

3. Are you a virgin?

Nope.

4. Are you in a relationship?

Yes!

5. Are you in love?

Very much so.

6. Are you single this year?

Nope!

7. Can you commit to one person?

I can indeed.

8. Describe your crush

The most gorgeous, beautiful, meme-queen and emo you ever did see. Luckily for me she ain’t a crush, she’s more than that and mine

9. Describe your perfect mate

I just did.

10. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Maybe not ‘love’ but a definite powerful connection of such, without sounding too cringe.

11. Do you ever want to get married?

It’d be nice someday.

12. Do you forgive betrayal?

Depends on the betrayal. Probably could pretend to on the surface, but not so forgiving underneath.

13. Do you get jealous easily?

Not as easily as I thought I would, I joke that I am more often than I actually really am haha.

14. Do you have a crush on anyone?

I fancy my girlfriend very much so xo

15. Do you have any piercings?

Just the lobes but they’re closed up now practically now haha

16. Do you have any tattoos?

I do, just the one but many many more I hope.

17. Do you like kissing in public?

Depends where the in public place is, not constantly but the occasional is pretty adorable

20. Do you shower every day?

Yeah

21. Do you think someone has feelings for you?

I hope considering she said she did over 9 months ago!

22. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?

I’d like to think so

23. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat?

Already have lmao, wouldn’t dream of cheating.

24. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years?

Could be nice! Engaged at least

25. Do you want to be in a relationship this year?

Yeah!

26. Has anyone told you they don’t want to ever lose you?

Indeed they have

27. Has someone ever written a song or poem for you?

Yeah lol

28. Have you ever been cheated on?

Not that I’m aware of

29. Have you ever cheated on someone?

Not my style thanks

30. Have you ever considered plastic surgery? If so, what would you change about your body?

Nah, but liposuction could be good hahah would never actually do it tho

31. Have you ever cried over a guy/girl?

Oh yes

32. Have you ever experienced unrequited love?

I think!

33. Have you ever had sex with a man?

nope nope, gold star bitches :)

34. Have you ever had sex with a woman?

yeyeyeyeyeyeyeyeye

35. Have you ever kissed someone older than you?

Yeah!

36. Have you ever liked one of your best friends?

Yep!

37. Have you ever liked someone who your friends hated?

‘Disliked’ may be a better term, if I can use that then yes haha

38. Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to?

Haha yeah

39. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have?

Yasssss

40. Have you ever written a song or poem for someone?

Nope, my writing skills aren’t that impressive

41. Have you had sex so far this year?

Yea boi

42. How long can you just kiss until your hands start to wander?

Right, we timed this before and my gal’s hands wander first but I also have the hormones of a teenage boy so probs 0.5 seconds at the right kinda time if you catch my drift

43. How long was your longest relationship?

this one now! so nearly 10 months and counting

44. How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had?

technically my gal now is my first girlfriend, was very close to another (unfortunately) but too closeted to want to go further. Had a couple of ‘talking to’ people that never got official too.

45. How many people did you kiss in 2012/2013?

046. How many times did you have sex last year?

can’t count lol

47. How old are you?

Eighteen

48. If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say?

Whatever floats your goat, you do you… etc…

49. If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, what is your favorite thing about him/her?

Her personality/cheekiness

50. If your first true love knocked on your door with apology and presents, would you accept?

My girlfriend is my first true love so I’d be like wtf are you apologising for get in here NOW!

51. Is there a boy/girl who you would do absolutely everything for?

Just the one yeah x

52. Is there anyone you’ve given up on? Why?

A fair few, there’s only so many times you can get taken advantage of until you run.

53. Is there someone mad because you’re dating/talking to the person you are?

Who knows?

54. Is there someone you will never forget?

Si

55. Share a relationship story.

Mine and my girlfriend’s ‘song’ is quite a lil’ indie one, so I went and found whether I could buy the single. Couldn’t find it anywhere, but when I did it said it may be sold out… I emailed and they had TWO left! I bought them both of course, what a coincidence. I hope to get mine framed for us one day for in our house lol

56. State 8 facts about your body

1: phat

2: not as phat as previous

3: scars

4: innie 

5: blonde hair

6: blue eyes

7: second degree burns have left pretty permanent tan lines for the past year

8: bruises

57. Things you want to say to an ex

blocked.

58. What are five ways to win your heart?

1. thoughtfulness, 2. creativity, 3. make me laugh, 4. fooooood, 5. make me feel appreciated

59. What do you look like? (Post a picture!)

look at my pp cba

60. What is the biggest age difference between you and any of your partners?

like a year

61. What is the first thing you notice in someone?

their taste in memes/vines ;) jks, their eyes

62. What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?

dunno if I can write this as I have irl mutuals here hahah so I’ll keep that a secret

63. What is your definition of “having sex”?

hand stuff, mouth stuff, gay stuff

64. What is your definition of cheating?

kissing/fucking/anything with romantic intent not for the person you’re with

65. What is your favourite foreplay routine?

routine is pointless, spice it up 

66. What is your favourite roleplay?

the role-play where we don’t role-play lmao cringe

67. What is your idea of the perfect date?

anything involving exploring, adventuring, good/deep conversation etc.

68. What is your sexual orientation?

the biggest lesbian you ever did see

69. What turns you off?

ignorance

70. What turns you on?

starts with ‘girl’ ends with ‘friend’

71. What was your kinkiest wet dream?

lol can’t relate I have night terrors instead of those clearly

72. What words do you like to hear during sex?

my name ;) amongst ‘fuck’

73. What’s something sweet you’d like someone to do for you?

continue to look after me and tolerate me haha

74. What’s the most superficial characteristic you look for?

brunette

75. What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you?

oh god there’s so many contenders all from one (the best) gal, some include surprising me at work/college as well as getting me a bear and spraying it with her perfume, there’s so many more tho wow

76. What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone?

probs surprising my baby on her birthday at midnight with flowers (on a SCHOOL NIGHT!?!?)

77. What’s your opinion on age differences in relationships?

as long as its legal and not nonce-y it’s got the all clear from me

78. What’s your dirtiest secret?

can’t put that on here sorry hah

79. When was the last time you felt jealous? Why?

nothing really jumps out, not sure

80. When was the last time you told someone you loved them?

today

81. Who are five people you find attractive?

1. my gal, 2. ruby rose, 3. Lynn gunn, 4. Frances bean Cobain, 5. Hannah Hart (always have always will leave me alone)

82. Who is the last person you hugged?

my girlfriend I think

83. Who was your first kiss with?

my girlfriend

84. Why did your last relationship fail?

not that we were together but I multitude of reasons

85. Would you ever date someone off of the Internet?

I kind of am! she slid into the DMs (cringe-ing at myself)

[kazuliancosplay-blog]

Evie Frye Masterpost

I’ve had many questions about this costume. Combine that with the fact that I’ve been meaning to get this tumblr page up and running, I finally sat myself down and made a masterpost for my Evie Frye cosplay. It’s about the one year anniversary of when I started making this cosplay, so it’s not a bad time to finally get this thing posted! Let’s get started. 

Materials

Shameless plug here, but I work for JoAnn Fabrics, so I bought all of my materials from my workplace. (The employee discount didn’t hurt.) I’ll link everything I can find while I list it. 

Quilted Faux Leather (1 YD)

Red Twill/Red Faux Suede (reverse side) (3 YD)

Black Vinyl (1 YD)

Leather Trim (10 YD)

Black Patterned Denim (2 YD)

Black Bull Denim (5 YD)

Eyelets (silver)

Rivets (also silver)

Silver D-Rings

Ruffle Elastic Trim (0.5 YD)

Black Faux Leather (0.5 YD)

Silver Jewelry Chain

Floral Applique 

Now that that’s over, let’s start at the inside and work our way out!

Jerkin

Because I honestly don’t know what else to call it. It’s a long, glorified jerkin. 

I wore a store-bought white blouse under my costume, and the black jerkin over that. The pattern I used is Simplicity 1299. 

I created a weird hybrid between coats A and B, using the length of coat A and the back ruffle of coat B, extending it down to create the V-shape that Evie’s back ruffle has. I had to modify it a little so that the front of the coat was shorter than the back, and more open at the front. The whole thing is made of bull denim, and there aren’t any sleeves because I knew I’d be wearing a coat over the top of it. (It was the middle of February but I didn’t want to risk melting??)

I also cut two large triangle shapes that followed the side seams of the coat and pinned back at the center seam. They’re held in place by two rivets with metal prongs, and look...kinda badass? This pattern also has built-in pockets. So there’s that. The hood is also attached to this under layer, because it didn’t work with my collar on the coat. It’s lined in red, and has black floral applique all along the left side of the head. (pictures farther down.) 

Belts

Let’s talk about belts for a second. Belts are...yikes. I’m gonna be honest with you guys, I didn’t finish all of my belts in time to wear this thing for Katsucon. Evie has one belt with a classic Victorian buckle that I just couldn’t get to work for me. I tried to carve it out of clay, but it wasn’t looking very good with the paint on it. I ended up trashing it before the con and hoping no one would call me out on it (no one did, thank god, since no one cares as much as my dumb ass about that stuff). I did get the other belt done though, and I like how it looks! I’m no leather worker, so I made it out of my leftover bull denim, and it’s super comfortable. 

I forgot to include belt buckles in my materials list. Eh. 

I made the woman’s belt in the picture. It’s a wide belt with double buckles that I layered over a simple red sash (because what is an Assassin’s Creed character without one?) made from the red suede I used on the coat. (More on that later.)

Tying a knot in my sash would cause unnecessary bulk under my coat. I made it to fit my measurements and attached it with velcro instead. 

Coat

Oooooh boy, here we go. The pièce de resistance. This coat took me four months to make, and weighs in at almost five pounds. I kinda hate myself.

The first thing I did. THE FIRST THING. Was to make a mockup of the top part of the coat. I used McCall’s 7456 and modified it so the zipper was centered. Mostly, I was interested in the princess seams and the huge collar. I made this thing, tried it on, drew all over it in sharpie, tried it on again, drew on it some more, made lines showing where to cut and extend pieces, sketched out details, and finally labeled everything with cutting directions before cutting it along the lines into my new pattern. 

Neat. 

Here’s a color-coded guide to which fabrics went where on this costume. I spent like twenty minutes making this thing. You’re welcome. 

Key: 

Teal - Black bull denim

Purple - Faux leather

Pink - Black patterned denim

Green - maroon faux suede

The top part of the coat was the toughest part for me. Getting the pattern to look like the character but also fit correctly is a challenge and a half. I recommend studying this costume thoroughly before making it, and sketching out what you’re going to be making several times first. I truly think it’s the best way to familiarize yourself with every part of the costume. I looked at this coat for like a month, trying to make sense of it, before I even bought fabric. Through the building process it gave me nightmares. Get familiar with this coat first, kids. Do not make my mistakes. 

I feel like we know each other pretty well by now, so what’s a picture of me in my dorm in pajamas amongst friends? This is where this ridiculous coat started. The collar is faux leather (vinyl) on the underside, and quilted faux leather on the upper side. Evie has these two huge lapels on either side, and her collar is lopsided, so one side of it lines up with the top of her lapel (on the wearer’s right side), and the other is totally separate. The next thing I made were the sleeves. 

First sleeve, done! It’s a long sleeve pattern, cut in half just above the elbow to allow for two different fabrics. The top of the sleeve is denim with a leather accent, and the lower part is actually a stretch faux leather from Yaya Han’s collection. I wanted the sleeves to be comfortable to move around in, so they’re made of a fabric that’s lighter and more flexible. The piece that joins the two halves of the sleeve is a ruffled elastic trim that we sell at JoAnn, which I can’t seem to find online. (Which is a damn shame. Because it’s literally perfect for this.)

Not shown: the pleated trim that goes underneath the elastic ruffle. I forgot about it when making my first sleeve and had to go back and redo it. (I like to suffer I guess.)

Here’s the coat and jerkin layered together on my dress form. At this point, I had added the leather trim over each of the seams on the top of the coat (a horrible and tedious task) and added the next piece of the coat: the long square pieces between the bodice and the coattails. This was pretty easy, so I don’t know how to go about explaining it...I sketched the pattern freehand on my fabric with marking chalk, measuring the hem of my bodice so the length matched the top of the patterned piece. Basically just made sure they’d line up and slapped them together. 

The red was trickier. For the coattails, I used a red faux suede because I really liked the color. The only thing it, Evie’s coat is made of canvas. To keep the color and eliminate the texture of the suede, i simply turned it inside-out and used the reverse side. Everything I made using suede, therefore, had to have two layers so the suede didn’t show on either side. This was actually super helpful in hemming my coat, because I just cut my fabric on the fold and sewed the raw edges into the seam with the fabric above. No hem required! 

Protip (not really) - the red is pleated a little at the top. I tried it several different ways but I liked the look best when I ruffled the fabric along the seam. This gave it some more body as opposed to sewing it on straight. 

Detailing

There are ten eyelets on either side of the open back portion of Evie’s coat. This coat is so ridiculous in part because it opens and the front AND at the back. The back of the coat, however, is laced together like a corset. I used faux leather along the edges to reinforce the fabric, then hammered eyelets through three layers of fabric before threading some leather cording through them. There are five rivets on either side just outside the eyelets, and the lowermost rivets on either side hold the silver back chain in place. The corset lacing loosens a little bit toward the bottom. 

Do you know what time it is now?

If you guessed “time for more rivets,” you are correct.

There are five down the front. Four on the wearer’s left side, one on the wearer’s right side. (See reference picture.) These are also strictly decorative, except for the top one, which I sewed a large snap closure to the back side of. That industrial-sized snap is the only thing that I use to hold my coat closed at the top. I’m a little surprised it works so well, considering the sheer weight of this thing when it’s got the cape and everything equipped. 

This little guy is the real hero. 

Tired of rivets yet? Too bad. We’re adding strips of faux leather to the raw edges of the red coattails, front and back. Nine on each side! 18 on the front, 18 on the back. (Pretty riveting stuff, huh? I’ll see myself out.)

Cape

Uh-uh. Don’t look at me for this one. My cape absolutely sucks. The weight and drape and size are all things I’m really happy with, but I didn’t get my assassin symbol applique on and I don’t have the trim along the bottom. To see how I made what I have of mine, hop on over to ErynMarie’s blog and check out her Evie Frye Cape Tutorial. Pretty sure this thing literally saved my life. 

It’s about one AM here and I’m going to have to post this before I die, but I will continue to update it as I remember things I’ve left out. Until then, happy sewing, assassins!

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [12]

Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13

➜ Words: 2.1k

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

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

cr.

“Never stop believing, never stop dreaming, and never stop doing your best!”   There’s deafening applause, standing ovations, and you get onto your own feet, clapping your hands together. The graduates are wearing bright smiles and they throw their hats into the air simultaneously. You watch them soar, knowing one day soon that’ll be you too.   Proud parents are gathered together, taking pictures while teachers are shaking the graduates’ hands, wishing them luck for their future endeavours. In the meanwhile, you hold the bouquet of flowers to your chest, paper crinkling underneath your grip and your eyes sweep the crowd.   “Do you see him?” you ask Jungkook.   He hums, hand placed on his brows to shield the blazing sunlight away. “No….oh, there he is!”   The two of you are dressed up for the ceremony. You’re in a modest dress that church goers would approve of while Jungkook is in a suit and tie like he’s going to prom. You appreciate him being here. He didn’t need to come, but he didn’t hesitate when you asked him to.    Jungkook just gives you the moral support you need.   “Y/N? Jungkook!” Seokjin is in his navy graduation gown, rich in colour. He wears a matching coloured hat with a yellow tassel and you muse the whole grad get-up looks good on him.   “Hey. Congratulations, man.” Jungkook smiles as a form of salutation.   “C-Congratulations on graduating.” You smile as well and extend your arm.   “These are for me?” He indicates the flowers, the corners of his mouth lifted. When you nod, Jin laughs and takes them. “I love them, thank you!”   “It’s nothing. I always promised I would see you walk the stage, so I’m just following through.”   “A woman of her word.” Seokjin grins, making you release half of a scoff and half of a laugh.   “Of course I am.”   You glance at Jungkook and he takes the cue. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” The boy hitches his thumb over his shoulder, slowly walking backwards. “I haven’t gone for about an hour now and my bladder is just killing me.” He stiffly laughs, almost bumping into some old lady. “Alright then. See you later.”   You sigh at his awkwardness and turn back to Jin. “Sorry about him.”   “No, it’s alright.” Seokjin smiles softly. “So you’re finished with all your finals?”   “Yeah, they’re all done. I don’t get much of a break though. My internship starts in two weeks.”   “Oh yeah!” He recalls, eyes lighting up. “Good luck. It should be really exciting. I still remember mine.”   “Thanks. I’m actually looking forward to it.”   “Good. You’ll make great memories, trust me.”   The pair of you stare at each other and you exhale lightly. “So this is it, huh, Kim Seokjin? All done with your schooling, you lucky bastard.”   The older man grins. “It’ll be you soon.”   “I know and I might beat you as a pastry chef one day, so you better watch out.”   Laughter bubbles out of his chest and it’s melodic to the ears. “I will.”   It’s a bittersweet moment, a nostalgic one. You remember going to his high school graduation, him at yours. Now he’s moving onto a new stage of his life again and in a way, you are too.    It occurs to you how grown up you’ve both become, how you’re not so young and naive anymore. “Can you congratulate Moonbyul, Sandeul, Ken and Hani for me?”   “I will. I’ll tell them you came by. They’ll appreciate it.”   You nod, but before you bid a final farewell, Seokjin raises his arm and gently ruffles your hair. The tension dissipates with his sincere smile. “I’m glad you came, Y/N.”   “Me too,” you say with an equally earnest smile.   “How’d it go?” Jungkook asks once you’ve regrouped with him again. You found the mop of black hair in the midst of parents and graduates, somehow munching on a hot dog he bought, and getting ketchup on his black blazer.   You hum, cheeks swelled with the biggest grin. “Good.”   You’re glad you came, that you followed through with a promise made a long time ago, one you could’ve pretended to forget. But you don’t regret showing up.    You and Seokin are almost strangers now, but you’ve realized somewhere down the line that it doesn’t make your time spent together any less fond. You loved him once and loved him wholeheartedly. He allowed you to do that. Allowed you to have those feelings and experiences.   You wonder if this is what closure is. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders, that your mind has been put to ease. Like you’ve finally closed a chapter of your life.

It’s the end of the year. All of you are halfway done with your diploma, if you’re not counting the internship and only the lectures and workshops. But it’s unfathomable how fast time moves when you don’t take notice or count the seconds ticking as you sit idly by.    Your first year is over — and you can still remember coming to this institution months ago wide-eyed and nervous. It wasn’t that long ago, but you can also see the light at the end of the tunnel, the end coming near. A lot has happened and a lot still needs to occur.   “Your internships are starting on the fourth?! Lucky, you guys get like a whole week break,” Taehyung grumbles, pouting. “I haven’t even finished packing and I’m leaving tomorrow.”   “You’re going to a catering company, right?”   “Yeah.” Taehyung perks up with a smile. “I might be starting sooner, but on the bright side, at least I’m not making wedding cakes.”   “Why does everyone hate wedding cakes so much?” You take offence, defending your internship that you’re actually excited for.   “Maybe because it’s probably one of the hardest things you could make. Wedding cakes are humongous. It’s laborious and takes days to make. There’s a reason why they’re so expensive.” Yoongi leans back as he’s proving his point. “Plus have you ever worked with bridezillas before who want everything perfect? There are Karens galore. I’m not eager to work at a restaurant, but it’s still easier than a wedding cake company.”   “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.” You have yet to learn how to actually make a wedding cake, but how hard can it be? At the end of the day, it’s just a bigger cake for a fancier occasion. You look over to Jungkook. “Right?”   But he doesn’t look you in the eye.   He mutters incoherently and when you roughly nudge him, he sighs. “I can’t say I’m….excited.”   “Didn’t you want to go somewhere that works with chocolate?” Hoseok asks, his own internship at the Marriott hotel. It’s a sweet gig and apparently close to where Aeri will also be working for her own cooking fellowship.   “Yeah.” Jungkook sighs again, running a hand through his black locks, picking up the habit of Jimin. Said man is already gone, left yesterday for a pastry shop in the city next door — a cute place he told you about called Bread & Butter. “But apparently the man who runs the place with his wife is a chocolatier.”   “It’s not about the place, it’s about the mentor,” you chime and he remains unimpressed.   “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”   You quirk your head to the side, lashes batting. “What? Not excited to spend a whole summer with me?”   Jungkook glances at you and then diverts his eyes quickly. He gives you no answer.   You click your tongue in annoyance. At least Taehyung can appreciate it, openly wishing he was working with someone that he knew.   Jungkook is probably the biggest reason why you aren’t afraid or anxious. You know you have each other’s backs, that you’ll learn together, and there’s no way he can be better at cakes than you are.   The man might be good at his chocolate but his cakes are dry.   //   “Try not to rip each other’s heads off,” Hoseok says moments before getting on the bus, duffle bag in hand. He’s the last one to go.   “Nah.” Jungkook throws his arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards his chest. “I still need someone to take the blame when things go wrong.”   “Excuse me?!” You turn to him and he laughs boyishly, making you pout.   Hoseok grins, bidding his last farewells before he gets on the bus and waves goodbye as the vehicle takes off down the road.   It’s sad to see all your friends going to different places, to forge their own separate ways. But you know goodbyes are inevitable and that it won’t be long till their return. You’re just glad that right now Jungkook is with you.   Campus empties out in the days that follow. Only you and Jungkook are staying in your dorm rooms over the summer. Hoseok is getting accommodation at the hotel he’s working for, Jimin is staying at a boarding house during the duration of his internship, and the rest going home where it’ll be more convenient for them.   It’s eerie to see the paths so empty, the dining center closed down, and the corridors void of people and noisy conversation. It’s apocalyptic. A ghost town.   There’s no one around but the pair of you.   “Are you ready?” you ask, breaking the silence. You spin around on your heel with a smile to face him, attempting to bring up the somber mood.   You don’t realize the small action has such a big impact.   Jungkook’s heart stutters. Your hair is flying in the breeze, the side strands brushed away behind your ear. Your eyes are glimmering as the sun sets, casting a golden hue on you that makes you glow. And you look at him so happily.    Jungkook has to resist the urge to pull you in. To kiss you.    He doesn’t know how he’s going to spend an entire summer with you and just you.   But he’s ready. “I am.”   “I’m gonna crush you, Jeon.” You laugh, not helping with his situation. Jungkook wonders what it takes to capture this moment and make it tangible. “Make the best wedding cakes anyone has ever seen.”   “You better walk the talk then.”   “Course, I will.”   Jungkook’s initial impression of you was never wrong. You’re stubborn, childish, a brat. You’re also annoying and irritating beyond belief. It’s amazing how sometimes you can just grind Jungkook’s gears without even knowing. But you’re also sensitive, sentimental, softer than he expected — and it’s what led him to have a closer view of you.    From the time you bursted into tears in the kitchen to when he called out your name to join him for lunch. Bringing you over to his friends' place and his family for the holidays. Teaching you how to temper chocolate and making truffles on Valentines for your ex. Going out on the town to be his wingwoman and having you as his partner in a competition and winning.   Those tiny moments lead him closer and closer.    Little by little.    One by one.   Without him realizing….   In these months that you’ve spent together, Jungkook has become unequivocally captivated by you.   “Y/N.”   “What?”   “I like you.”   Jungkook admits it out loud. Unabashedly. He tried to get over it, ignore it, clear his mind. He did all of it while trying to keep you by his side as his best friend, but it didn’t work. He can’t.   His feelings for you overwhelms him.   It’s a container overflowed with spillage all over the sides — he can’t repress it and doesn’t want to. He faces it head on, even if it’s reckless.   But you merely snort after a beat. “Thanks, grinch. I like me too. You’re not too, too bad, I guess.”   There’s no way you’re this obtuse. You’re not dense. Jungkook knows you well enough and he suspects you’re feigning ignorance, maybe because you’re traumatized and not willing to risk friendship again. But he presses on, not allowing you to ignore his heart on his sleeve.   “I mean it.”   “I mean it too.”   Jungkook assertively grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks, He looks you dead in the eye, going for a bold strategy with no room for escape or for you to disregard what he’s spilling out to you. He corrects himself—   “I’m in love with you.”

[themhayonnaise]

Books to read: July 2017

Hello, guys! What's up? I've been busy these past few weeks (as usual, kahit minsan hindi naman) because of work and of course my totally hyped love life (naks, may forever na ba?). But of course, I make time for reading at least a page or two everyday. So yay to all four from my previous list! I managed completing Brain on Fire just this week, and it was the best among all four. Will be writing a review (maybe?) within this month. And here's my list for July. Click links/titles to redirect to Goodreads! <3

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood

I am a member of Emma Watson's book club, Our Shared Shelf. The Handmaid's tale is the book chosen to be read by the group for the month of June, and it was a nice pick, actually. I'm not done yet, but so far, I'm picking up soooo many words of wisdom I can share with people and maybe here on my blog as well. Here's a synopsis if you're not visiting Goodreads:

Offred is a Handmaid in the Republic of Gilead. She may leave the home of the Commander and his wife once a day to walk to food markets whose signs are now pictures instead of words because women are no longer allowed to read. She must lie on her back once a month and pray that the Commander makes her pregnant, because in an age of declining births, Offred and the other Handmaids are valued only if their ovaries are viable. Offred can remember the years before, when she lived and made love with her husband, Luke; when she played with and protected her daughter; when she had a job, money of her own, and access to knowledge. But all of that is gone now...

Dawn of the Dreadfuls (Pride and Prejudice and Zombies #0.5) by Steven Hockensmith, et.al

I never knew Pride and Prejudice and Zombies have this series, honestly. I am not a fan of classics because they're too deep I need more time to make it sink in. (LOL) Anyway, here's a great chance to announce I have a new source of books of different genre. Thanks to my sweetest bebe, he's giving me books and Dawn of the Dreadfuls is one of those. I'm actually done with the first chapter (as the second book I'm currently reading) and it's fun to read so far. I might be reading the next ones next time. Here's the synopsis:

Journey Back to Regency England - Land of the Undead! Readers will witness the birth of a heroine in Dawn of the Dreadfuls - a thrilling prequel set four years before the horrific events of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. As our story opens, the Bennet sisters are enjoying a peaceful life in the English countryside. They idle away the days reading, gardening, and daydreaming about future husbands - until a funeral at the local parish goes strangely and horribly awry. Suddenly corpses are springing from the soft earth - and only one family can stop them. As the bodies pile up, we watch Elizabeth Bennet evolve from a naive young teenager into a savage slayer of the undead. Along the way, two men vie for her affections: Master Hawksworth is the powerful warrior who trains her to kill, while thoughtful Dr. Keckilpenny seeks to conquer the walking dead using science instead of strength. Will either man win the prize of Elizabeth's heart? Or will their hearts be feasted upon by hordes of marauding zombies? Complete with romance, action, comedy, and an army of shambling corpses, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls will have Jane Austen rolling in her grave - and just might inspire her to crawl out of it!

Bad Feminist by Roxanne Gay

I'm not sure if I could consider myself as one of them, but aren't we all looking for equality? Or not? Anyway, I listed this book as one of my picks for the month because I want to know more and learn more about the topic and the thoughts and the people who claim their selves as feminists. And why I feel like this is just another division that instead of making or encouraging  everyone to stand as one, they tend to build a barrier among those who can't understand them yet? Like they're claiming the top spot on "humanity" without trying to listen to other's opinions or reasons. I mean some of them... well. Here's the book's synopsis:

Pink is my favorite color. I used to say my favorite color was black to be cool, but it is pink—all shades of pink. If I have an accessory, it is probably pink. I read Vogue, and I’m not doing it ironically, though it might seem that way. I once live-tweeted the September issue. In these funny and insightful essays, Roxane Gay takes us through the journey of her evolution as a woman of color while also taking readers on a ride through culture of the last few years and commenting on the state of feminism today. The portrait that emerges is not only one of an incredibly insightful woman continually growing to understand herself and our society, but also one of our culture. Bad Feminist is a sharp, funny, and spot-on look at the ways in which the culture we consume becomes who we are, and an inspiring call-to-arms of all the ways we still need to do better. 

The Truth About Happily Ever After by Karole Cozzo

"Chin up, Princess, or the crown will slip."

I guess this is just another fairytale book, but that quote got me. No need to explain. Here's the synopsis:

A theme park princess must put her life back together after her happily ever after falls apart in this contemporary YA romance from Karole Cozzo, author of How to Keep Rolling After a Fall and How to Say I Love You Out Loud. Everything was supposed to be perfect. Alyssa has a job she loves, working as Cinderella at her favorite theme park; a fantastic group of friends; and a boyfriend who will no longer be long distance. But as the summer progresses, her prince becomes less charming and more distant, and Alyssa's perfect summer falls apart. Forced to acknowledge that life is not always a fairy tale, Alyssa starts working to pull her herself back together. Fortunately, she doesn't have to do it alone. With her friend Miller's support, she's determined to prove that she's more than just a pretty princess. And with his help, maybe she's finally ready for something better than dreams. Maybe she's ready for something real. 

Share your to-read list!

How about you, bookdragons, what's on your to-read list? Share your shelf at Goodreads and follow me. <3

P.S. if ever you're wondering if I still share ebook copies, yes I do! Just message me here your email or email me at maivargas@icloud.com.

HAPPY READING!