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racebox-of-higgars · 4 years ago

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Christmas Kisses - sprace oneshot

It may not be Christmas anymore but I’m still gonna write it

Crossposted on Ao3 at Racebox_of_Higgars

Enjoy!

“I think I’m having a feeling,” Spot groaned, flopping down onto Jack’s couch. “Make it stop.” Jack looked up from his painting, frowning at Spot.

“How did you get in my house?”

“I picked the lock,” Spot said simply, as if it happened every day.

“As you do.”

“Yes.” Jack narrowed his eyes slightly, then shook his head. Today was not the day for questioning things.

“What feeling?”

“Fuck if I know.” Spot gestured at the air in front of him. “ Racetrack! ” That only made Jack even more confused.

Spot, he didn’t really do feelings. He would always bottle them up and ignore them until they became anger, which was far easier to deal with than whatever it was before. That earned him his reputation as the kid with the anger issues, which suited him just fine. It meant no one messed with him, or people around him, and as long as they were okay, he was happy.

“You got a problem with Race?” Jack asked, turning completely away from his painting. He was invested now.

“Yes! No! I don’t know.” Jack grinned, finally catching on to what Spot was getting at.

“You like him, don’t you?” Spot screamed into the pillow and Jack snickered.

Jack loved Race. Not in a romantic way, but Race was pretty much his little brother, and he would do anything to make Race happy. He had seen Race fall in love too fast then each time they would leave and he’d watch Race fall apart, each time losing another part of himself. Slowly, it had worn Race down, and though he didn’t let it show, he was always hurting. Every time he got into a new relationship, he would keep his distance, trying not to get too close Every time he would get his heart broken. Jack never liked any of Race’s boyfriends, but he liked Spot.

“So what do I do about it?” Spot asked. “Do I ask him out, or do I like stab him?”

“You ask him out, dipshit!” Spot screamed again.

“What do I do?” Spot sat up slightly, looking a Jack, and he actually looked worried. God, he was whipped.

“Ask him on a date.”

“What kind of date does one ask Racetrack fucking Higgins on?” That was a good question. Thankfully, Jack had known the fucker since they were basically fetuses, and therefore knew exactly what he would want.

“Take him to the ice-skating rink, then get hot chocolate together and watch a Christmas movie.” Race was a sucker for Christmas, and it being just weeks away now, it was perfect timing. “If you’re feeling bold put up some mistletoe. He loves that shit.”

“Race loves Christmas, right?”

“Yup. If your house isn’t decorated he’ll fly through there like a glittery rainbow tornado.” Spot smiled at that. He could practically picture it, and he felt the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Dude, you’re fucking whipped.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’ll still kill you in your sleep.” Jack just smiled and turned back to his painting.

“Enjoy your date.”

Spot knew what he wanted to say, but actually asking Race out was a whole other story. They were in the library together, a usual hangout spot (hehe get it), when it was cold, and Race was rambling on about some new thing he had grown obsessed with and Spot had listened diligently, completely enraptured by Race’s excitement. His sparkling eyes lit up with a childlike glee and a grin spread across his face as he looked out the window.

“Spotty, look!” He cried. “They’re turning on the Christmas lights!” Race was entranced by the lights, almost like a child, but Spot wasn’t watching them. Spot was gazing at Race. He watched as the colours flickered over Race’s pale skin and the rainbow of lights reflected off his eyes. God, he was so in love with this boy it hurt, and if he didn’t get at least a date with him soon he was pretty sure he’d combust.

Plans went out the window.

“Go on a date with me?” He blurted, screaming internally the second it left his mouth. Race turned to him, shock written all over his face.

“What?”

“I-uh-I wanted to know if you, maybe, wanted to go on a date with me?” Spot stammered out, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Race smiled, somehow wider than he had when he was watching the lights.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes!” Race rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, like he always did when he was excited and Spot couldn’t help his smile.

“Alright, uh, I’ll pick you up at 7, is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, and wrap up warm,” Spot added, thinking about how cold it was likely to be on the ice later. Race nodded.

“Okay, I’ll – uh – I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, see you.” Fuck yes!

In Which Race Is A Third Wheel

Racebox of Higgars: GAYSGAYSGAYSGAYSGAYS!!!!

Mom: Do you really need that many exclaimation marks?

SantaGay: GAYSGAYSGAYSGAYSGAYS????

Mom: Don’t encourage him

Racebox of Higgars: GAAAAAAAAAAAYS!

Mom: What do you want?

Racebox of Higgars: SPOT ASKED ME ON A FUCKIN DATE!!!!

SantaGay: HELL YEAH!

Mom: Finally

Mom: It’s only taken him nine years.

SantaGay: what are you doing?

Racebox of Higgars: i don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me

SantaGay: oooh, a man of mystery

Mom: Be safe.

Racebox of Higgars: i always am

Racebox of Higgars: OH FUCK WHAT AM I GONNA WEAR

Mom: Did he give you a dress code?

Racebox of Higgars: no, he just said dress warm

SantaGay: black skinny jeans, that cream turtleneck you literally never wear, your fancy black coat, doc martens, a lil bit of eyeliner

Mom: Jack, you have fashion sense?

Mom: Why do you never dress up nice for our dates?

Racebox of Higgars: o shit

Racebox of Higgars: thanks gays

For the fifth time, Race examined himself in the mirror, scrunching up his face. Something was missing from his outfit. He had to admit, Jack’s taste was good (the eyeliner was amazing), but something was still missing. He rifled through his drawers, eventually pulling out the silver chain Spot had bought him when they were 14. It was simple, plain, but spoke volumes.

Race had only just come out as trans. He was slowly swapping out his wardrobe for more masculine clothes, and they were going through his old jewellery.

He held up a necklace with a small owl charm at the end, grimacing. He hated that necklace. It wasn’t anything against it particularly, but more to do with how feminine it made him feel. He hated it.

“Y’know,” he began absent-mindedly, “I used to love this necklace, but now I can’t stand it. It makes me really dysphoric for some reason, which sucks since I love wearing jewellery and stuff, but I can’t wear most of this.”

“You can get more masculine necklaces,” Spot answered from where he was sitting at the foot of Race’s bed.

“Well, yeah, but I can’t really afford it.” Spot frowned. “I don’t get any money at the moment, and I can’t work.” An idea slowly formulated in Spot’s mind.

“Race, I got you something,” Spot said sheepishly. Race turned, brow furrowing.

“It’s not my birthday, or Christmas. Why?”

“It ain’t much, but you were saying about it the other day and then I saw it and thought of you.” He held the box out to Race, who took it tentatively.

“This isn’t gonna explode or anything, right?” Spot laughed, but shook his head. It reminded him of their prank war a month or so before, which only ended when Spot had broken his nose.

“It shouldn’t do.”

“Alright, good.” Race tore into the packaging with a newfound fervour, dropping it to the floor because he was a firm believer that gift-giving should always be carnage, no matter what the occasion, then opened the lid of the box. Spot watched nervously, suddenly thinking that this was probably a bad idea, but Race’s face cracked into a grin.

“You bought me a necklace?” He said incredulously as he carefully lifted it out of the box.

“Well, yeah. I was out with Hotshot yesterday and I saw it in a window and it reminded me of the other day. If you don’t like it I can take it back I jus-“ Spot was cut off by a weight crashing into him, and arms wrapping tightly around him.

“I love it, thank you.”

Since then Race had kept it in pristine condition, carefully making sure it didn’t rust or otherwise get dirty or break. He carefully lifted the chain out of the box, much like he did all those years ago, and fastened it around his neck. Looking in the mirror, he smiled. It offset the outfit perfectly, matching with the silver buttons on his coat and just providing that extra little touch to the outfit. He took a quick photo and sent it to the group chat.

In Which Race is a Third Wheel

Racebox of Higgars sent a photo

Racebox of Higgars: GAYS DO I LOOK OKAY

SantaGay: damn bitch

SantaGay: if i wasn’t dating davey and you weren’t like a brother to me id tap that

Mom: He means you look good.

Mom: He’s right, you do.

Racebox of Higgars: thanks gays

Racebox of Higgars: OH FUCK HES HERE

Spot shuffled slightly outside Race’s door, flowers in hand. Were flowers too much? Fuck it, it was too late now. Race opened the door and Spot’s breath caught in his throat. Oh god, Race was gorgeous. Spot’s eyes slowly glanced over Race, taking all of him in, from stylishly messy curls, to his bright eyes rimmed by just a little bit of eyeliner to make them stand out, to his breathless smile, to the necklace at his throat, to those criminally tightly jeans, and Spot needed to stop staring.

“Christ, you look gorgeous,” Spot breathed, still hardly able to take it all in. A blush crept up Race’s cheeks as his eyes skirted over Spot.

“You can’t talk, you’re-“ he gestured wildly at Spot, “beautiful.” Spot had been called a lot of things, hot, sexy, handsome, but never beautiful. It surprised him, he loved the sound of it on Race’s lips.

“I bought flowers,” Spot said, holding them out. “I hope it’s not too much.” Race smiled taking them from him.

“Cyclamen,” Race pointed out with a smile, taking them from him. “You remembered?”

“I’ve been doing some research into flower symbolism,” Race said, half hanging off the end of his bed. Spot looked up from his homework.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s actually pretty interesting. It’s weird to think that plants have so much meaning . Like, take hyacinth flowers. Apparently they were created when two Greek God’s were fighting over one guys love and one of them got hella jealous so fuckin killed the guy cus if he couldn’t have him no one could. The other one created the flower from his blood.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“I know. It symbolises rebirth now.”

“Huh, but the guy wasn’t reborn?” Race shook his head. “Fair enough. Do you have a favourite flower?” Spot asked, partly out of genuine curiosity, partly out of hope that someday he’d be the one buying Race flowers.

“Cyclamen,” Race answered easily. “They symbolise love and tenderness.” Spot smiled. Of course Race would like something like that. He was a hopeless romantic at heart. “Do you have one?”

“Not at the moment. I’ll have to do some research and get back to you.”

Spot liked lavender roses – blossoming romance.

“Of course I remembered. I, uh, I had some lavender roses put in too.”

“Your favourite,” Race recalled. “Blossoming romance, right?” Spot nodded, embarrassed. Race smiled. “I’m gonna go put these in some water real quick, wanna come in?”

Race couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he carefully organised the flowers in the vase. Spot had remembered the offhand conversation three years ago. Not only had he remembered, but he had gone out of his way to get the specific flowers Race loved. The blush on Race’s cheeks darkened slightly, doing a little dance as he placed the vase on the coffee table.

“You’re wearing the necklace,” Spot pointed out. Race rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah.”

“You still have it?” Spot was genuinely surprised. That had been eight years ago now, and yet the necklace still looked like it did the day he bought it.

“Of course I do. I’ve kept everything you’ve bought me over the years.” Spot laughed.

“Even the stuffed dinosaur?”

“Especially the stuffed dinosaur.”

“You’re gonna think it’s stupid!” Spot cried, a blush creeping up his cheeks. Race laughed, holding Spot back with one hand as he clutched the wrapped gift in the other.

“Nope!” He answered, popping the p. “I’ve never found anything you’ve bought me stupid, why would I start now?” Spot groaned and backed off slightly, rubbing a hand over his face. Race eagerly tore into the paper , throwing it onto the pile left by Spot. He grinned, laughing. “I love him!” He said, pulling the blue stuffed dinosaur against his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around it. “I shall name him Steeb.” Spot shook his head, laughing. He had genuinely thought Race would hate it or think it was stupid. Race had been going through an obsession with dinosaurs, and of course he was always a sucker for stuffed animals, and thus Steeb had been bought.

“Steeb?”

“Yup!”

Race pulled him into a tight hug, still laughing. “Thank you.”

“Where are we actually going?” Race asked as they walked outside onto the freezing street. Frost coated the grass, and their breath hung before them, pockets of heat suspended in the cold air.

“It’s a surprise,” Spot said simply. Race forced his hands into the pocket of his coat to shelter them from the cold.

“You know I don’t like surprises,” he mumbled.

“Yes you do, you just say you don’t to try to get me to tell you shit.” Damn Spot and damn the fact that he knew Race better than anyone.

“You brought me ice skating?” Race asked, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah, Jack said you used to go a lot as kids.” Race grinned, kicking off his shoes and replacing them with skates, lacing them up tightly. Spot copied him, putting their shoes and bags into lockers.

Race quickly made his way onto the ice, gliding like a pro and kicking off with a small spin, just to test it out. Spot got onto the ice and promptly fell on his face. Race, however, was lost in the moment, gliding and spinning and twisting, then leaping into the air. Spot watched in wonder as Race closed his eyes, lost in his movements.

Race closed his eyes when he danced. Losing himself in the music, he would just close his eyes and let it take over. It would decide his movements for him, and he would follow along. Spot stood in the corner, mesmerised by the boy in front of him. A small smile crept onto his face as he watched Race. It was rare for Race to let Spot see him dance, so he took any moment he could. Watching Race, it was like he was made for this, with the way his body moved so gracefully, so purposefully. Spot loved every moment. No matter how hard he tried (not that he was trying), he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Spot!” Race said excitedly, opening his eyes and pausing the music. “You came?” Spot smiled.

“Of course I came, dumbass. I wasn’t gonna miss this.” Race bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly.

“I’m on in half an hour. Just going through some basic stuff now to get ready.” Spot scoffed.

“You call that basic?” Race ran a hand through his curls, damp with sweat.

“I mean yeah, compared to what I’m doing in the show.”

“What are you doing in the show?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Race said with a wink.

“Ever the cryptid.” They stood in silence for a moment, then Spot had to break it. “You’re not binding, right?” Race’s face fell and he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest. “C’mon, you know it’s not good for you. Can we take it off before you go on?” Race shook his head.

“I don’t have anything else to put on.”

“I brought a sports bra, could you change into that?” Race hesitated for a moment, before nodding. Race always struggled being safe when binding, so when he had events like this, Spot would always bring a spare sports bra and one of his hoodies for Race to change into. Just in case.

He handed Race the sports bra.

“I have a hoodie for you to wear after,” he said, handing him the hoodie too. Race smiled as he went into the bathroom to change.

“Thank you.”

“Spot!” Race cried, skating over to his side and offering out a hand. “Are you alright?” Spot shook himself out of the memory and took the hand, shakily getting to his feet. He immediately slipped again, but Race caught him, laughing. “You can’t skate, can you?” Spot shook his head. “Why did you bring me ice skating if you can’t skate?”

“Because I knew you’d like it.” Race took both of Spots hands in his, so they were facing each other, then he slowly began skating backwards, locking eyes with Spot.

“Thank you.” Spot tried his best to mimic Race, and soon they had a steady speed and rhythm going. “By the end of tonight I’ll have you skating on your own.”

“I doubt that.”

“Bet.”

Race won the bet.

“Wanna go get hot chocolate?” Spot asked. “Not the shitty watery stuff they serve here, we’ll go and get the good hot chocolate from the library.” Race rubbed his hands together to try to regain some feeling in them and he nodded.

“Hell yeah.”

The library’s café was a big reason why they always hung out there. They’d found it while studying one night, and it had slowly become ‘Their Spot’ over the years. All the staff knew them and their orders, and always greeted them with a smile. They knew all the staff by name too.

“Thanks for this, Race.” Spot said, setting his books down on the table. Race smiled, setting his bag down on an empty seat.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” He glanced around. It was a cozy, quaint place. Squashy armchairs surrounded tables and the whole place was filled to bursting with old wooden bookshelves. Towards the back was the café, a large chalkboard with all the prices hanging above it. “Wanna grab food and stuff before we start working?” He asked, gesturing towards the café. Spot looked up, and nodded.

“Yeah sure.”

“I’ll pay,” Race said as Spot reached for his wallet.

“But-“

“No buts, I’ve got it.” Race tapped his card on the reader and took his mug of hot chocolate, laden with sprinkles, whipped cream and marshmallows back to the table. Spot sat down shortly after him, lifting the mug to his lips. Race took that moment to admire Spot, backed by the sunlight streaming through the large windows. His brow was furrowed slightly as he concentrated on his mountain of a drink, and the contended smile on his face brought out his laugh lines.

There was whipped cream on his nose.

Race burst into laughter at the sight of Tough Guy Spot Conlon with whipped cream on his nose. Said Tough Guy Spot Conlon looked up, brow furrowing more in confusion.

“Is something on my face?” He asked.

“There’s – there’s whipped cream on your nose,” Race said through laughter. Just to make Race laugh more, Spot attempted to lick it off. He loved watching Race laugh. It was the most magical sound in the world to him.

“Boys, can you quiet down a bit,” a waitress asked, “this is a library.” Race pressed his mouth shut to muffle his laughter and Spot wiped the cream off with his finger. That was the beginning of their library ‘study sessions’.

They settled into what had become their corner of the library, curling up in two opposite armchairs, setting their drinks on the table. They had chosen a spot right next to a large window so they could watch people go about their days on the streets beneath them. Sometimes they would make up ridiculous stories about the people walking by, just to make the other laugh. Often, it would turn into a competition about who could come up with the funniest story. It would reach the point where they were howling with laughter, tears streaming down their faces, and the library staff would shake their heads fondly as they told them to quiet down.

“Thanks for tonight, Spot,” Race said, a small smile on his face.

“It’s not over yet.” Race tilted his head. It had already been one of the best nights of his life, how on Earth was this not the end? “We’re gonna go back to my place one we’ve finished these, get takeout, watch a movie.” Race grinned.

“A Christmas movie?” He asked excitedly.

“Even better – a crap Christmas movie.” Race’s eyes lit up and he wiggled a little in his chair with excitement.

“Oh my god, you are the best.” Race was obsessed with Christmas movies, but the shitty, cheesy ones that you laugh at because of how unbelievably bad they are, and Spot was his long-suffering companion who had put up with this bullshit for nine Christmases in a row now.

“Can we watch a Christmas movie?” Race asked, draped over Spot’s lap. This was their first Christmas as friends, and Race was going to make it a good one.

“Which one?” Spot smiled down at Race, automatically starting to run his fingers through his hair.

“I dunno, something super cheesy. The kind so bad you have to laugh at it.” That was Race’s favourite kind of me. Probably why he enjoyed the Twilight Saga. Not because he actually liked the films (Edward was an abusive douche, he had physically fought someone on that before, and he would do it again), but because it was so easy to laugh at how unbelievably shitty they were.

Spot nodded, opening Netflix and putting on some shitty movie.

Neither of them actually watched the movie though. Spot was distracted by Race’s soft smile and how peaceful he looked. Race was distracted by the feeling of Spot’s hand in his hair and Spot’s arms around him.

It had been a while since Race had been in Spot’s apartment, (they usually preferred to hang out at Race’s, he had a bigger TV for movie and game nights) and he looked around slowly. It wasn’t a big place, but it was still nice. He had a large, squashy sofa, plus an armchair, a coffee table that clearly had been cleaned recently. In fact, the whole apartment had that smell like it had been cleaned just a few hours before. Had Spot cleaned for him?

“Do you want tea or coffee or anything?” Spot asked from the kitchen.

“Coffee would be good,” Race answered, getting comfy on Spot’s couch. Spot set to work making it as Race glanced over the takeout menu. Then, he had an idea. “We should build a pillow fort!” Spot turned to face him, one eyebrow raised, a bemused smile playing on his lips.

“A pillow fort?”

“Yeah!” Race’s smile dropped slightly. “Unless you don’t want to. We don’t have to-”

“Of course I want to.” Spot set the coffee mugs down on the table, plopping down next to Race. Race’s eyes lit up when he saw the mugs.

“You still have those?” He asked excitedly.

“Of course I do.”

“Spot look!” Race exclaimed, pointing at a shelf. Spot put down the mannequin hand he was turning into a middle finger and turned to look at Race, who was holding up a matching mug set. They were plain white, except for black lettering. One said ‘his bitch’ on it, while the other said ‘his slut’. “They’re for gays!” Spot laughed, looking at the price tag.

“And they’re only like, $3.” Race’s eyes lit up with mischief, the way they always did when he had a stupid idea.

“We’re absolutely gonna buy them, aren’t we?” Race said.

“Obviously.” Spot took them from Race and paid for them.

Later, Spot handed Race the mug reading ‘his slut.’

“Why am I the slut?” Race said indignantly.

“Come on, we all know you’ve slept with like, half the guys in the school.” Race’s face fell a little.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“You sleeping around?”

“Yeah.” In truth, Spot did mind, but he wouldn’t say that. The only reason Spot had an issue with it was because of his huge crush on Race. But he supposed he had no reason to be jealous, it wasn’t like Race was his.

“No, I don’t mind. It’s your body, you do what you want with it.”

“Sometimes I worry if I’m doing something wrong. If, I dunno, whoever I end up dating doesn’t like it.”

“Have you ever dated anyone long-term?” Spot asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. Race shook his head.

“Nah. There’s people I’ve seen for a couple months or so, but never longer than that. They realise I’m fucked up and leave.” Race laughed bitterly, trying to add humour to the situation.

“You’re not fucked up.”

“Mhm, that’s not what they think.” Spot took Race’s hand in his.

“Look at me.” Race hesitantly met Spot’s eyes. “You aren’t too fucked up. There’s no such thing as too fucked up to be loved.” Race blinked back tears.

“Thank you.”

“It’s alright, now shut up and take your slut mug.” Race laughed.

“You do realise it’s gonna have to stay at your place, right? No home will let me keep this.”

“We can keep it for special occasions.”

They curled up together on the couch. Spot reached for the remote and started flicking through Netflix, putting on a shitty movie. Both pretended to watch the film, but they were both too focused on the close proximity. Both wanted to make a move, but neither knew the right moment. The distance between them was painful.

Slowly, achingly slowly, Spot reached an arm around Race’s shoulders. Race wiggled slightly, getting comfy, before relaxing into Spot’s side, resting his head on Spot’s shoulder. Warmth spread from every point of contact, and he couldn’t believe he’d spent nine years missing this. He had spent so long pining for Spot, but never worked up the courage to make a move, instead throwing himself at any other guy who would take him to try to distract himself from his helpless crush, but nobody gave him the same feelings as Spot did. Spot was it for him, he had known for the last nine years, and he knew it now.

Spot was screaming inside. Race was right here, in his arms, and he wasn’t pulling away. They were on a date, and it wasn’t painfully awkward. Since meeting Race, Spot had hardly dated anyone. He had a couple flings here and there, but none lasted long. None could hold a candle to the brightness of Race. Nothing could compare to the warmth in Spot’s chest he felt around Race, or the safety and comfort he hadn’t felt before, but with Race it seemed so easy. Everything was easy with Race.

Race took the moment to look around the room. In the corner, there was a photo frame, with 9 photos in it. He looked closer at it, and realised it was one of the two of them together, each one taken a year after the one before. The first one was taken when they first met, before Race had come out, before he had cut his hair. The second one was just after he had cut his hair. He still remembered each one being taken.

“Spot, can we take a photo together?” Race asked, fiddling with the ends of his hair.

“Why?”

“I like having photos with all my friends, I like keeping the memories.”

“Sure. You want a selfie or are we gonna make someone take it for us?”

“Should we get someone else to take it?” Spot nodded. “Can you ask them?”

“Alright.” Spot took Race’s phone and walked up to a middle aged woman walking by. They spoke briefly, then Spot came running back, throwing an arm around Race’s shoulder. Race grinned, looking at the camera, wrapping his arm around Spot’s waist. A few seconds later, the woman gave them a thumbs up, and Spot ran back to take the phone back. Spot handed the phone back, leaning over Race’s shoulder to look at them.

“Are they good?” Race nodded, smiling.

“Yeah, really good.” Spot backed off slightly, wrinkling his nose.

“Your hair got in my nose.” Race frowned.

“Sorry. I’m gonna cut it shorter at some point.” Spot tilted his head.

“Really? How short?” Now Race was gonna do a special trick called lying to avoid outing himself.

“A bob, so around my chin length.” Spot smiled, picturing it.

“Yeah, that’s gonna look good.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be good.”

Race pounded on Spot’s door, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Wha- oh.” Spot opened the door, face scrunched up in annoyance, but softening when he saw Race. “Oh, Racer, come in.” Race came in, sinking down onto the couch, fiddling with the strings on his hoodie.

“Can I crash here for the night?” He asked, voice breaking. Spot’s brow furrowed with concern as he crouched down in front of Race.

“Yeah. What happened?” Race hesitated, before pulling his hood down, revealing his messily chopped hair.

“I cut my hair. I just- I couldn’t look at myself with long hair anymore. I got kicked out.” Spot frowned.

“What do you mean you couldn’t look at yourself with long hair?” Race’s breath hitched and his heart hammered in his chest.

“I-uh-I'm trans. I couldn’t deal with the dysphoria anymore. It hurts too much.” Spot’s eyes softened and he wrapped Race up in a tight hug.

“It’s alright. I don’t care. Do you have a new name and pronouns you want me to use?” Race rested his forehead on Spot’s shoulder, trying to keep from crying.

“Could you call me Antonio? I mean, I’ll still go by Racetrack and everything, but Antonio for my real name. And he/him pronouns.”

“Sure, Antonio,” Spot said, trying the name out on his lips. Race’s face split into a grin at the use of the name.

“Thank you.”

“It’s alright.” Spot reached up to touch the choppy hair. “Now how about I sort your hair out?”

“Please.”

Race ran a hand through his freshly cut hair, examining it from all angles in the mirror, and he smiled brightly.

“Thank you,” he said, turning and wrapping Spot in a hug. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Why don’t we update that photo we took last year?” Spot suggested, and Race’s eyes lit up.

“Could we?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Spot threw his arm around Race’s shoulders, just as he had a year ago, and Race wrapped his arm around Spot’s waist, and they both wore matching grins as they looked into the camera. The woman taking the photo gave a thumbs up and Spot ran to take the phone. They looked at the photo, then back at the one from the previous year.

“You look happier,” Spot commented. Race smiled.

“I am happier.”

“You kept those photos?” Race asked, nodding slightly to the frame. Spot tore his glance away from Race momentarily to look.

“Of course I did. They’re my favourite pictures.” Race smiled, settling back on Spot’s shoulder. A blush rose in his cheeks as he felt Spot press a kiss to his hair, then his hand replaced his lips, fingers slowly carding through his curls. Race hummed contentedly, wrapping an arm across Spot’s stomach and leaning into his every touch. Now this, this was something he could get used to.

The credits rolled, and by that point it was well past midnight. Race slowly sat up, regretting the loss of contact with Spot.

“I-uh-I should go,” he said, moving to stand.

“I’ll walk you home?” Spot offered.

“Are you sure? It’s cold out.”

“I’m sure, c’mon.”

Somehow, the street was even colder than when they had gone out before, but neither of them seemed to mind. A snowbank piled up on one side, and Race struggled to contain his grin as the idea formulated in his mind.

He knocked once, twice against Spot, playing it off as an accident, before shoving Spot into the bank. He erupted into laughter, but maybe it was too soon, as Spot grabbed his coat on the way down. Both of them shrieked as they landed in the snow, Race landing on top of Spot. They breathed heavily, making eye contact for a moment, faces flushed, but whether that was the cold or something else was anyone’s guess. Just as they had been staring long enough for it to become awkward, Spot finally made his move. He leaned in, like he had been longing to for years, holding the back of race’s neck and gently pressing their lips together. Electricity sparked through his body and he couldn’t quite believe he had spent years missing out on this. One of his hands subconsciously moved to tangle in Race’s hair, who tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss. The world around them seemed to melt away, and all that mattered was them, and this.

“Fucking fags!” A voice yelled next to them. Spot was about to shake his head at Race, tell him to leave it, but Race was already on his feet.

“Hey! What fucking century are you living in? So what I happen to be dating a man, please inform me of how I’m hurting you by loving him.

“It’s against God’s will. You’re digusting,” the man said, rounding on Race.

“No, I’ll tell you what’s disgusting – discriminating against people who have done nothing to hurt you, just because of a fucking book that was mistranslated. Wake the fuck up. People fall in love, they don’t hurt you by doing that, they just do it.”

“Fuck you!” The man spat, turning to walk away.

“I bet it’s fucking tiny!” Race yelled after him, turning back to Spot, who looked at him in amazement. “Sorry about that.” Spot shook his head, taking the hand Race offered to him and pulled himself to his feet.

“That was amazing,” he said honestly, smiling.

“I just- I couldn’t let him just say that y’know? I mean, I’ve heard shit like that for years, but I wasn’t gonna let him say it to you.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“That’s not the point.” Spot leaned up to kiss him quickly.

“Either way, that was wonderful.” Spot had never seen Race angry like that before. Not when the Delanceys had constantly torn him down, not when he moved from foster home to foster home, not when he had gotten detention just for trying to use the right bathroom. But one homophobic comment and he had gotten furious like Spot had never seen before, and god Spot didn’t think he could possibly love Race more.

Race smiled, hesitantly lacing his fingers with Spot’s as they walked the last few blocks to Race’s apartment.

“Your house wasn’t decorated,” Race commented.

“Yeah, I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“I’ll come over tomorrow and help you decorate.” Spot didn’t get a say in it. Race was gonna deck that apartment out in so much glitter and coloured lights it would be like a very gay tornado had gone through and left parts of itself all over. Not that Spot minded. He would take any opportunity possible to spend time with Race. “I expect you up early.” Spot’s face dropped. “I’ll bring coffee,” Race added, solely because he knew coffee was the only way to bribe Spot into getting out of bed before 10am.

“Alright, I’ll be expecting greatness. It better live up to the expectations Jack’s given me.”

“It’ll be worse, I promise,” Race said with a grin.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

They slowed when they reached the door to Race’s apartment, lingering a moment before Race unlocked the door.

“Uh, thanks for tonight, Spotty. I had fun,” Race said, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t really want the night to end, but at least he would see Spot tomorrow.

“Yeah, so did I.” They shuffled slightly, neither wanting to end the night. “Are we- are we gonna do this again sometime?” Spot finally asked.

“Are you kidding me? If we’re not doing this like, weekly, we’re doing something wrong.” Spot chuckled a little, before looking up. He laughed, seeing mistletoe hung in the doorframe. Race’s eyes widened, before he looked at Spot, blush rising in his cheeks.

“Do you wanna-” Race’s question turned into a squeak as Spot crashed their lips together, pulling Race close. He was gonna take every damn opportunity to kiss Race that he could. He had already missed out on nine years, he wasn’t gonna lose any more.

Slowly, they broke away, neither wanting to, but both knowing they had to. Their faces were flushed, eyes wide.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, or would it be today now?” Race asked.

“Technically today.”

“I’ll see you later today then,” Race said with a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.”

They kissed quickly once more, then Spot disappeared down the street.

In Which Race Is A Third Wheel

SantaGay : did you guys enjoy my surprise???

Mom: I told you not to.

Racebox of Higgars : YES!

#sprace #newsies #fanfiction #fluff #spot conlon x racetrack higgins #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #first date #yes steeb is based on something my joyfriend bought me #i love these boys #soft

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littlenoona · 5 years ago

Text

Cute?

Requested.

Summary: You talk to the other members about how cute Jimin always is, the boys start teasing him about how he’s not very assertive and dominant, but he shows you otherwise that night.

Warnings: Dirty talk, handcuffs, dom(Jimin)/sub(Reader), spanking, face sitting(reader), praise kink, kitten kink, babygirl kink, all that, I’m a sucker for it, ok? Black haired Jimin makes a lethal return. 😱

Genre: Smut.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jimin x Reader(F).

Word Count: 4,871.

A/N: I may have gone a little overboard with the things Jimin says is in this one compared to my other fics? 🤔

Masterlist.

You were sat on the sofa with Jimin, his arm resting heavily around your waist as you leaned into him, a relaxing night with the all of the boys. Listening to their conversations was always something that you enjoyed, everything from Jungkook teasing Jimin with his cocky behaviour to Jin making dad jokes and insulting the other members, putting him above them in the funniest ways, obviously never in a serious manner, getting lost in a conversation with Namjoon about anything, talking about life with Yoongi, art with Taehyung or listening to the passion in Hoseok’s voice when he spoke about dancing.

Yoongi and Jin had just gotten back from the shop, walking through the door with enough snacks to feed an entire party, not that you were having one, you were just having a nice night together, but they always went a little overboard with it - you didn’t mind though, they always had a huge variety of stuff to offer because of it, meaning everyone had something they could nibble on.

Jin dropped several items on the coffee table in front of you, plopping himself down along with Yoongi opposite you, where Jungkook was already placed, Hoseok, Namjoon and Taehyung sat in another sofa next to you, totalling 3 full sofas around 1 small coffee table full of snacks and a TV displaying several action scenes on some random channel they had chosen, while they were chatting away about whatever was currently their favourite topic.

You looked down at the snacks in front of you, spotting several things that you knew Jimin loved when your eyes flickered up to Jungkook’s staring intensely with a cocky smile in your direction, making you look at your boyfriend next to you, his eyes equally intense, but no smile.

O, oh.

Both Jimin and Jungkook lunged forward at the same time, Jimin nearly pulling you off the sofa with him, though Jungkook was a little faster than Jimin, meaning he caught the snacks first.

Jimin’s lips formed into a pout and he sat with a sad expression and puppy eyes, probably trying to convince Jungkook to pass the snacks to him silently, though it didn’t seem to work, Jungkook only offering a laugh as he opened the packaging victoriously.

You turned to your boyfriend as he sat back in the sofa, smiling at him, “You’re so cute, Jimin.”

He leaned his head against your shoulder, still pouting and in a soft whiny voice he uttered “He’s being mean.. He took my favourite snacks.”

A small giggle escaped you, your heart almost feeling like it would explode because of how cute he was being next to you.

“I bet he’s cute like this all the time, isn’t he, Y/N?” Taehyung asked with a slight smirk on his lips.

“He is!” you exclaimed with a wide smile, “I almost can’t handle how cute he is all the time.”

“I bet he lets you do whatever you want to him, whenever you want, doesn’t he?” Yoongi grinned, his voice implying something you didn’t quite catch, but the other boys clearly did, their various smiles pointing towards Jimin.

Your smile softened, “Yeah. He’s cute like that.”

Jimin sat up straight next to you, his hand gliding through his black hair with a sigh, knowing exactly what the boys were suggesting, but refused to acknowledge their teasing.

“Guess we know who the dominant one in your relationship is, eh.” Hoseok shrugged with a teasing wink.

“Hyung!” Jimin exhaled.

“Nothing wrong with that, Jimin-ah.” Namjoon smiled.

“Be nice.” Jin sighed as he leaned forward and grabbed the remote, turning the volume on the TV up as the movie started, munching away on his snacks.

You turned to Jimin, his eyes fixated on the TV, you leaned into him, pulling your legs up in front of you, his arm automatically resting across your chest and stomach, his hand holding on to your thigh, both your arms around his bicep, clinging to it.

A small feeling of guilt was resting in your stomach, a feeling that only grew bigger and bigger as the night progressed, the occasional teasing words thrown Jimin’s way from the other boys.

Without really realising it, your gaze had shifted from the TV to Jimin, admiring his features in the dimmed lights.

His strong jaw line and incredibly rough looking features whenever he wasn’t smiling - almost intimidating even you, despite knowing his soft and kind heart.

Your eyes wandered down his neck, flashes in your head of the times you’ve kissed, nibbled and bitten it, to his chest - rising and falling slowly, his t-shirt resting snug on it, down his stomach, his t-shirt hiding his well defined muscles, to his thighs that you had sat on so many times before.

His other hand which was resting on his thigh caught your attention, the rings on his fingers glinting in the soft lights, your eyes slowly following the veins from his hands up his arm.

The things he did to you, even without realising, his physique awakening a hunger in you.

Flicking your eyes up they met his, realising he had noticed you were staring at him - his grip on your thigh tightening slightly, his features remaining the same, though still revealing so much to you.

His eyes were cold, almost threatening, making you feel small, praying on you, it caused you to press your thighs together, a move that didn’t go unnoticed by him, his eyes quickly moving to look at your thighs before meeting yours again and then returning to the TV.

You let out a small shaky exhale, something you knew he heard by the way his grip on your thigh tightened again.

Not being able to focus on anything other than the way Jimin’s thumb was slowly moving back and forth on your thigh, the movie seemed to never have an end, your thoughts spinning everywhere but the present, your underwear growing damp because of it.

The chatter of the boys grew louder as the credits of the movie started rolling, discussing whether or not they should put a new movie on, though ultimately deciding against it because they needed to get up early in the morning and the night had already started quite late.

Standing up you followed the members to the door, hugging them and thanking them for coming over one by one as they left, closing the door behind Taehyung as he was the last one leaving.

Turning the lock you heard footsteps behind you - as you were about to turn around you felt Jimin’s body pressed against your back, pressing you into the hard surface of the door, a small gasp leaving you.

His hands moved down your arms until they reached your wrists, grabbing a hold of them and lifting them above your head to press them against the door.

Feeling his head lean down next to yours, your heart started beating faster, “Do you want me to dominate you, Y/N?”

“What?” you whispered.

“Do you want me to fuck you until you scream?” he growled.

A shock was sent through your body, his words catching you completely off guard, leaving your mind blank, not knowing how to respond to his sudden change of character.

“Answer me, baby.” he cooed.

“I..” you choked.

“It’s a simple question, Y/N.” he continued as he pressed his hardened member against your ass, “Do you want me to make sure you can’t walk tomorrow?”

“Jimin..” you sighed.

He let go of your wrists, moved away from you and forced you to turn around, his fingers coming up to wrap around your throat, his other hand leaning against the door behind you.

Meeting his intense and hungry stare you couldn’t help but feel weak in his hold, his parted black hair falling down in strands over his eyes.

“I don’t appreciate being left waiting.” he growled again, standing up straight and tilting his hand on your throat so you were made to look up at him, “Don’t you want me to stretch that pretty little cunt of yours?”

“I do..” you sighed, swallowing thickly.

“Good girl.” he smirked, his thumb gliding softly over your bottom lip.

His praise and filthy words sent warmth to your core - you could feel yourself growing wetter the more he spoke, his demeanour laced with lust and need, a desire to test you, your limits.

Leaning down to you, his lips ghosted over yours, not giving into you and giving you what you wanted - him.

“Do you want me to make you cum, babygirl?” he whispered against your lips.

“Mmhm.” you whimpered, squeezing your legs together in anticipation.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he cooed with a smile.

“Please..” you begged him.

“Awh, look at you, baby. So sweet.” he smirked, his lips tenderly pressing against yours as you could feel his hand moving from the door next to you and instead wrap around your waist, pulling you close to his body, your own hands instantly holding on to his shoulders.

His kiss was hungry, your own frenzy taking over as you deepened the kiss, inhaling sharply as you felt his hardened member press against your already soaking and throbbing core.

Detaching his lips from you he looked down at your parted and red lips, loving the small pants that had started leaving you because of him.

“A little eager?” he whispered, his lips ghosting past your lips and your cheek, his fingers releasing your throat as his mouth instead attached to it, leaving small bites behind.

A small moan left you as he bit down on your neck particularly hard, "Please don't tease me, Jimin.."

"But you're so cute when you're like this, baby." he hummed against your skin.

His hand moved down from your neck to your ass, gripping it harshly before his hand left it again and quickly came down hard on it with a loud slap, your body instantly responding by moving into him and away from the source of the pain, a whimper leaving you.

You could hear the satisfaction in the little hum of approval he let out - “Go to the bedroom.” he commanded you.

Your body instantly responded to him, walking through the apartment and into the bedroom, feeling him walk closely behind you, you stood next to the bed awaiting his instructions.

He walked up behind you, his warm hand delicately moving your hair from one shoulder to the other, exposing your neck for him, his fingers wrapping around it as he pushed you forward, bending you over, a light exhale leaving you because of the sudden movement, your hands supporting you on the bed.

His hand roamed down your back gently, “Is this what you want?” he purred, “To be used by me?”

“Yes..” you sighed, closing your eyes.

“Why didn’t you just ask, baby?” he chuckled.

“I don’t know.” you whined.

His flattened hand came down hard on your ass, the pain shooting through your body causing a groan to leave you, “That’s not good enough. Tell me why you didn’t ask!”

“I was too shy!” you mewled.

“Mmm.. I won’t let you be shy tonight. I’m going to do things to you you’d normally be too shy to do.” he growled, “But you’re going to be a good girl and do them for me, aren’t you?” his hands gripped onto your hips harshly, pulling your core against his hard member.

“Mmhm..” you hummed while biting your lip.

“Good.” he smiled, one of his hands venturing under your top to feel your skin against his, “Get undressed for me and get on all fours on the bed.”

Standing up straight, you pulled your top off, unclasped your bra, pulled down your jeans and underwear, standing completely naked in front of him, the heat radiating off him hitting your skin, sending chills through your body.

You felt his hand slide onto your hip, move over your skin, setting fire to it and then flatten out on your stomach, pulling your body close to his, his mouth next to your ear, “Don’t be nervous, beautiful, I’ll take good care of you, I promise. If you want me to stop, just say and I’ll stop straight away, okay?”

You nodded softly before you moved onto the bed, facing the headboard, standing on all fours as he asked, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, you tried to push your own insecurities away, his reassuring words assisting you in submitting to him.

He moved away from the side of the bed, over to his wardrobe, standing at the foot of the bed, you heard light shuffling before something sounding like metal was clinking against itself, but you didn’t look back at him, you just waited.

“You look so pretty, baby.” he hummed behind you, your mind shuffling on itself to remember the very vulnerable position you were in, completely exposed for his view.

You hung your head low, wanting nothing more than to whimper as you heard his footsteps come closer and his presence appear next to you.

“Give me your hands.” he demanded.

You raised your head up and looked at him, noticing in his hands a pair of handcuffs, none the less you obliged, sitting up straight and offering him your hands as he wanted.

He locked one part of the handcuffs around one of your wrists, pulling it forwards to the headboard of the bed, twisting it around one of the multiple black steel bars, before coming back to your other wrist, locking the other part of the cuffs around it, leaving you unable to move away.

It left you unable to lean on your arms and your torso was forced to lie against the mattress, your head leaning on one of the pillows, the lower part of your body the only still raised in the air.

You felt his hand flatten on your back and travel down the length of your body before he removed it from you, the mattress dipping behind you as he moved onto it, sitting back on his heels, admiring you.

His hand moved onto the skin of your ass, travelling down to your core, one of his fingers gliding gently through your slit, “So shiny and wet..” he whispered, “Just for me?”

“Yes..” you sighed, feeling his finger continue small movements up and down your slit, teasing you.

“Good.” he smirked, “Who do you belong to, kitten?”

“You.” you confirmed with no hesitation.

“Mhm.. You belong to me.” he hummed.

He moved around behind you, but you couldn’t see what he was doing until you felt his breath below your core, his hands coming round to hold on to your hips, forcing them down, the rest of your body following suit so you were sat up straight, your hands holding onto the bars you were handcuffed to - the strands of Jimin’s black hair lying around his eyes below you as you looked down between your legs, meeting his hungry stare.

You had never let him eat you out in this position before, he hadn’t even asked you if you wanted to try it before.

Feeling his lips ghost over your core, you couldn’t help but sigh lowly, he knew how to get to you and how to get you going, how much you loved what he did to you, even with his dominant side showing he only fuelled your fire more.

His tongue painfully slow traced around your slit, avoiding your clit, avoiding your entrance, avoiding all the places you wanted to feel him.

“Jimin..” you sighed, seeing him smile below you, clearly happy with how you were coming undone above him and he hadn’t even touched you properly yet.

“What is it, baby?” he cooed below you, “Tell me what you want.”

“Your tongue, please.” you whispered, biting your lip as soon as the words left your mouth.

“Hmm..” he teased with a wide smirk, “Beg.”

“Jimin..” you smiled, almost not believing he was being serious about his request.

His hand moved from your hip and instead smacked the skin of your ass harshly, the sting from it causing you to whimper and screw your eyes closed, “I said, beg.” he growled beneath you.

You released your breath and collected yourself, your eyes remaining closed, “Please Jimin..”

“Please what? Tell me exactly what you want.” he demanded, he wanted you to say the words, explicitly tell him what you wanted him to do, please wasn’t going to be enough.

“Please make me cum with your tongue.” you sighed, “I want you to eat my pussy.”

A soft mischievous chuckle left him, “Such dirty words, baby, I love it.”

You felt his tongue flatten against your clit as he finally showed mercy on you, giving you what you wanted, lightly flicking against it, circling it and drawing his tongue across it.

“F-fuck..” you breathed, your fingers tightening around the bars you were holding.

His fingers holding on to your hips tightened, his nails digging into your skin, leaving small marks behind on you, forcing you to keep still.

Your breathing became shallow, small moans leaving your lips as he continued his actions, sucking on your sensitive bundle of nerves - his hands moving from your hip to softly stroke up your back only to then dig his nails into your skin and drag it down slowly, the hurt earning a groan from you as you arched your back into his movement.

Leaning your head back you started succumbing to the pleasure he was letting you feel, your legs lightly shaking at his constant and never ending actions.

His hand moved from your back, opting instead to knead the soft tissue of your breast, his thumb gliding gently over your nipple before circling the tip around - pinching it mildly, your chest flinching back as a result, the handcuffs restricting you rattling against the steel of headboard.

“God..” you whined, “Please don’t stop.. Feels so good..”

He started flicking his tongue at the very edge of your clit, at the very top causing your body to become a shaking mess, the pleasure almost too much for you too handle, the motion sending several waves of ecstasy through you.

You lifted your head, resting your head against your arm, biting in to your own skin, your moans growing louder as he continued to stimulate a spot you didn’t even know you had, your body wanting to lift itself away from the source.

Both his hands held onto your hips tightly, pushing you back down to him, his head lifting to chase you every time you tried to move.

“It’s too much, Jimin, please..” you begged, your stomach tensing to desperately keep up with the pleasure.

He didn’t let up, he wanted to hear you moan like never before, moan in a way only he could make you - his tongue continuing to attack your clit, swiping his tongue from side to side, in a small circle on the very edge, whipping it against you.

You could feel the tension in your stomach build, your breaths turning quick and shallow, “Shit..” you cursed, closing your eyes tightly, feeling the heat in your core about to explode.

Jimin’s lips wrapped around your clit and you could feel him suck on it particularly hard, knowing it would send you over the edge.

Every muscle in your body stiffened, your mouth falling ajar as your breathing stopped briefly, the scorching feeling in your core releasing in a series of pleasurable contractions, your breath releasing in a whimpering moan, your legs shaking around Jimin’s head, his tongue slowing down though still moving softly against you, allowing you to extend your orgasm to the fullest before he finally halted.

You fell forwards, your head hitting and resting against the cold surface of the steel bars, providing some relief to the heat radiating off you, pants falling from your lips repeatedly.

Jimin moved away from underneath you, standing instead on his knees behind you, moving his body close to yours - you felt his chest press against your back, his head resting on your shoulder, his hands moving up and down your sides, his thighs on either side of yours.

“How was that, baby?” his voice telling you clearly that he was smirking, already knowing the answer, but he still wanted to hear it.

A breathy giggle left you, “Perfect.”

“Good, I’m glad.” he hummed, one of his hands moving up your body to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it quickly, his other moving down to your core, applying a little pressure on your clit causing a moan to leave you due to how sensitive you still were, his hand on your throat forcing you to lean your head back on his shoulder.

“You ready for me to fuck you now?” he whispered in your ear, pressing his hard member against the skin of your ass.

You swallowed thickly, something he could feel in the palm of his hand, a small evil hum leaving him because of it.

“Don’t tell me you’re chickening out on me, kitten?” he pouted at you, “I know you can take it.”

His mouth moved to your neck, placing small kisses, licks and a bite that sent shocks of pain through you causing you to whimper in his hold.

“I want to feel that soft cunt of yours.” he sighed, “So tight around me.”

You let out a shaky sigh, closing your eyes, your core clenching on itself at his words, remembering how good he stretched you.

“Say it.” he demanded, “Say it and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to sit down properly tomorrow.”

“Please fuck me, Jimin.” you sighed with a smile, “Ruin me.”

“As you wish, my queen.” he grinned before he detached himself from you, quickly discarding his t-shirt, throwing it on the floor.

You felt his hands grab on to your hips and suddenly he pulled you back, a small squeal leaving you in the process, your hands letting go of the headboard, your torso hitting the softness of the mattress below you as he raised your ass in the air, standing up on his knees behind you.

Jimin unzipped his jeans and pulled them as well as his boxers down, his member springing free, the heat radiating off it hitting your core as he moved it closer, nudging it gently against you, ready to bury himself in you, his hands finding their home on your hips again, keeping you in place for him.

Pushing into you a small hiss left him - the handcuffs restricting you rattling against the steel as you tried to pull your hands to you, ultimately finding a pillow to hold on to instead, a whimper falling from your lips as he pushed further and further into you, the burn protruding from your core sending shivers through you, such a familiar and satisfying feeling.

“So fucking good..” he growled, as he bottomed out in you.

He pulled out of you slowly before he thrusted into you again roughly, setting a slow but powerful pace, moans already leaving you persistently.

One of his hands roamed up and down your back, leaving scratches on your skin, your back arching into his touch - his other holding onto your hip with bruising strength, the bed beneath you almost silently creaking due to his powerful movements.

“God..” you moaned into the fabric of the pillow.

“Hmm? Does my cock feel good, baby?” he cooed between a series of hard thrusts.

You couldn’t do anything but mewl in confirmation, his hips snapping into you hitting all the right spots, filling you up so pleasingly. His hand ventured over the scratches he had left on your back, down to the back of your neck before his fingers tangled in your hair, he harshly pulled it and held onto it.

You bit your lip, a small smile painting your features, loving how rough he was being with you and how he showed no intent of letting up - his hips increasing in pace, small moans and pants leaving him at how good you were feeling around him, your core occasionally clenching causing him to hiss which only further threw you into your passionate frenzy.

He leaned down to you, his chest pressed against your back, his movements stopping for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to your back, surely able to taste the salt of your glistening skin.

“I could fuck you for hours.” he growled, “Listen to those beautiful moans for hours.”

Returning to his upright state he thrusted into you again and again, his relentless movements throwing you towards your end faster than you wanted.

“Jimin..” you moaned.

“Mmm..” he hummed, “Moan my name again.”

“Please don’t stop, Jimin, please..” you whimpered, the clatter of your handcuffs sounding through the room.

He let go of your hair, both of his hands again placed on your hips, “You gonna be a good girl and cum again for me?”

“Mmhm!” you hummed, “Please make me cum..”

You turned your head as much as you could, allowing you to catch a view of him, his black hair pushed back, strands sticking to his temples, small beads of sweat rolling down his skin, his bare torso almost glowing in the soft lights, his stomach tensing allowing you to see his defined muscles, his arms flexing as he time and time again pulled you back towards his hips, his lips parted, eyes hungrily gazing at you.

The weight in your core returned at an alarming rate, your previous orgasm only making it easier for a second one to wash over you.

Closing your eyes your breathing became small pants between moans, “G-Gonna cum..”

Fighting against the handcuffs your hands clenched, your back arching into the air as your body felt the tension in your stomach release, the muscles of your body tightening and relaxing time and time again, your core clenching tightly around Jimin’s member repeatedly, shallow breaths leaving you.

He leaned forward against your back, his movements slowing down for a second, letting him feel the force of your orgasm, his lips pressed against the skin of your back, “Fuck.. That’s it, baby, so good.” he moaned, his breath burning against you.

Your body loosened as the waves of pleasure became smaller and smaller, a throb in your core left behind as an aftershock of your orgasm.

Jimin stood on his knees again behind you, resuming his fast and powerful pace, small cries leaving you as your sensitive core could barely handle him.

You groaned into the pillow, biting the fabric of it, allowing him to use your body to reach his own high, wanting to hear him cum just as much as he wanted to hear you - knowing he wasn’t far off due to the stutter that became apparent in his movements.

His pace faltered as he got closer to his own orgasm, his own pants quick and superficial until you finally felt him twitch inside you, small groans falling from his lips as his hips finally stood still.

Neither of you moved for a few minutes, your breaths the only sound reaching your ears.

No matter how softly he tried to pull out of you, you always winced when he did - moving off the bed he pulled his jeans and boxers up, quickly reaching for the keys on the nightstand by the bed, unlocking your handcuffs and pulling them off your wrists.

You sat up straight, your body still shaking in the aftermath of his attacks.

His hand came to cup your cheek and he leaned down to you, placing a tender kiss on your lips, “You okay, beautiful?”

“Yeah..” you sighed with a smile, feeling drained and exhausted, “I just need to go clean up and then I think I need a nap.”

Jimin let out a small loving giggle, standing up straight and extending his hand for you to support yourself on - which you happily took, swinging your legs off of the bed, attempting to stand on them.

He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he waddled behind you towards the bathroom, making you laugh at his goofy walk, his lips pressing several kisses on your neck, almost tickling you.

Letting you go into the bathroom and have a quick wash, he waited outside for you to come back out, following you back into the bedroom in the same silly way.

You threw yourself on the bed, crawling under the duvet as Jimin walked to the kitchen to get both of you some water - quickly returning with a bottle in hand you happily accepted it, feeling much more parched than you realised.

He quickly undressed while you downed almost the entire bottle, scooting under the duvet with you, waiting for you to put the bottle down before he almost yanked you towards him, letting you rest on his chest, his arms wrapped around you.

His hand came up under your chin, pushing it softly to make you look up at him, his lips pressing against yours in an affectionate kiss, “I love you so much.” he whispered.

“I love you too.” you smiled, pressing your lips against his again.

Please do not repost. If you wish to repost, please contact me directly requesting permission, with details of where, and on what account(name). I will put the details of approved reposts below.

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tetrakys · 5 years ago

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MCLUL 18

The episode starts where the previous one had left: either in Nath’s flat if you decided to follow Amber, or in Castiel’s if you didn’t. Either way, Candy goes to Nath’s place after Amber calls her and the same dialogue unfolds. Nath explains that he has been back in town for weeks because Erik, his cop friend, tracked him down as soon as he’d left and they are now working together to collect enough evidence to dismantle the cartel for good. He’s playing the bait (hence the traffic light-looking attire) and wearing a wire under his clothes. He leaves soon after saying that he will be back once he’s done with this dangerous mission.

The rest of the episode is mostly about university work, the last we will ever see. First, Candy practices her presentation with Rosa, Morgan and Alexy. We assist a fight between the two lovebirds that soon morphs into a sweet declaration of love. Later, Candy keeps practicing alone first and later with Yeleen (if you chose it).

We also attend Rayan’s final class. The first part is about the group work, each group reports their experience. I thought this whole group work sub-plot was going to lead to something, either a mini-arc for Chani, where she learns to be less of a perfectionist and shows her art to the world, or some kind of drama with Melody, or at least something important for the degree. It was all very tepid, almost as if the writers had changed their mind and dropped it from the plot. The second part of the class is, instead, about relaxation techniques in the park. Because it makes total sense in a modern art history course.

After all this, Candy goes to the café to tell Clemence she is going to quit soon. Clemence tells her to not rush into this decision because there’s no job for history of arts majors and she may end up having to keep working as a waitress (charming as usual, but also strangely nice?). Also, an improbable friendship is born when Clemence shows lots of interest in Chani’s magical aptitude.

That evening Nina sends a text saying she’s witnessed the cops arresting her assailant, and Candy and Priya have a discussion about Nath and what that could mean for him.

The day of the thesis discussion Candy is very stressed, but she finds Castiel outside the class and he helps giving her relaxation technique tips. She also gets a little spooked finding Rayan in the class (I don’t see why? Seems pretty normal to me). Anyway, time-skip to the end of the exam and Candy is pretty satisfied with herself. She even buys Chani a crystal as a thank you for her support and encouragement for her own exam.

In the evening Candy attends a party Hyun has thrown to celebrate the end of the academic year. She had also invited her parents and the illustration shows the moment she introduces the LI to them. Everyone except Nath. Having sneaked into the café’s kitchen, his illustration portrays the moment he tells Candy he’s finally free from the Cartel.

The episode ends in the middle of the party.

THE END

Now let’s go into more detail on everyone’s route:

Here, I’m saying it... Nath is always 100% bangable. Even like this, once the problematic leggings and the blinding yellow t-shirt are off, there’s really nothing to talk about.

I found the resolution of Nath’s route very anticlimactic, happening off screen. If Candy got somehow involved however, it would’ve probably been quite trashy and ridiculous so there was really no win in this crazy scenario. It just feels they dragged too long, only to create angst, something that they resolved with just a few words and no involvement on our part. If MCL is indeed ending in a couple of episodes, this was basically the main recurring plot-line of the whole season and it fell short, at least for me.

Him acting as a bait... let’s say it was fine, he showed some courage. But there are two things that didn’t make sense for me (in this episode): firstly, his explanation to why the cartel didn’t simply kill him, because they thought it was easier to pull off a mugging than a murder, especially if the victim was a snitch. REALLY? What does it even mean. These people were really kind drug lords: first hiring a young boy out of nowhere, then beating him up when they found out he had betrayed them instead of killing him, even giving him three days to say goodbye and skip town, and later exposing themselves enough letting him stay in town for weeks instead of killing him on the spot. Also, second thing, shouldn’t he have cut a deal with the police for his immunity BEFORE he helped them? They would’ve given him pretty much anything to shut down a whole drug cartel. I don’t know Nath, you should be so smart, at least get a lawyer next time.

A round of applause to Candy for spilling the beans with everyone about Nath’s dangerous and super-secret plan 👏👏👏

The reunion with Nath, if you are on his route, is cute and pretty emotional. She falls on the floor, overwhelmed, and he kisses her and reassures her. All this in front of Amber. The scene in the kitchen at the end of the episode, however, was a little less emotional than I would’ve liked. Especially the illustration, there was NO NEED to include Amber in it.

I did appreciate the choice to not introduce him immediately to the parents, it really wasn't the right time.

Bae is particularly charming when he laughs and smile. Both a hottie and a cutie, he’s the whole package.

I think BV tried to apologise for the lack of Castiel’s content in the previous episode, because this time we had plenty, well... more than with had the others.

After the scene in Nath’s flat, he takes us to the dorms on every route, but if you are on his route you can choose to spend the night at his place. To find an excuse so they wouldn’t hook up, BV wrote that Candy feels dizzy and they just cuddle. She’s not dizzy on any other route, just tired. And now that I’m writing these words I’m having an AWFUL SUSPICION THAT I DON’T EVEN WANT TO WORD EXPLICITLY, please no... just no.

His relaxation technique was funny, pretending to be super confident, but if you’re his girlfriend he gives Candy a breathtaking kiss right before the final exam that ensures victory for both of them.

His meeting with the parents is super chill, my Candy and him were together in HS, so they remembered him and love him already, not sure if anything changes otherwise but I guess not. Philips goofs in front of him, dancing horribly joking that he should be on his next music video and they all laugh (except maybe Candy, but it’s a happy moment nonetheless).

Crack and Rum, Castiel’s band name according to mom 😂

Now, I left the bad part for last:

Yeleen touches Castiel’s arm while talking to him in front of the café on any route. Even if he’s not our boyfriend I wanted to clock her. B*tch there is a strict NO TOUCHING policy here. But when he’s our boyfriend I timidly told Castiel that the parents were coming AND I LOST 10 FREAKING POINTS!!! What. The. Hell. Should I fight with him too? I feel like I should. This requires a heated conversation!

The green dress is super hot, and Candy is a total snack, but she’s just one small accident away to show her nipples to the world. (Surfboard my ass, Castiel)

As usual there’s very little to say about Hyun’s route. He’s excited to meet the parents and doesn’t realise they were already there, so he keeps blubbering Candy about their summer trip and kisses Candy in front of them. When he figures out he gets bashful, but they all laugh it off.

Honorable mention to Philip for not knowing where Slovenia is. SERIOUSLY??

Look at this fierce power couple, it looks like they’re about to conquer the world or rob a bank. Probably both.

Was it the right moment to spill the beans about their relationship in the middle of a college party. No. But did I enjoy their power walk, hand in hand, in the middle of the crowd? YES.

The parents’ reaction could’ve been worse. Philip could’ve gone ballistic. We didn’t see the “man-to-man chat”, probably because it was a tricky one to write, it could’ve sounded either ridiculous or trashy. Kudos to BV for taking the coward way out and skipping the problem altogether.

Rayan said that he loved her and it was sweet. However, Candy talking about how much she's into him in front of Sweet Amoris knowing that that is my Lys account felt like being sucker punched.

Also, Rayan got a tenure track position. I. Hate. Him. (I’m not envious, not at all)

Priya tearing up when Candy tells her that she wants to be with her completely is probably THE MOST FREAKING CUTE THING I’VE EVER SEEN. Cuter than cat videos. (But less cute than duckling videos. There’s nothing cuter than a baby duck).

The parents are happy to meet Priya, zero drama in Candy’s coming out, I found it refreshing, I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed a bad reaction (even a short one). They even all dance together until late night. The illustration shows Priya accepting Philip’s challenge at a sort of dance-off.

A few final comments:

I didn’t understand aunty’s comments about a masked party at the end of the school year, is that a French thing?

Philip not knowing where Slovenia is, and Hyun having to explain that it’s an European country, makes me think that they’re trying to convince us the game is not set in France. Mph.

I also wonder where Hyun’s parents live exactly. It can’t be Korea since Hyun goes back home all the time, even just for a weekend.

Everything points out to the end of the story being about a new separation, everyone moving away to achieve their own future.

Alexy is probably going to follow Morgan to Washington.

Rosa is moving to the beach house (which is not very far, but not exactly in town either).

Yeleen is excited to live in London. (The girl is going to get a HUGE wake-up call the moment she realises that apartments here are tinier than her dorm room, quite bad and life is so expensive that (if she doesn’t want to accept money from her mother) with a tourist guide salary she’s probably going to afford only a tiny room, in the middle of nowhere, in a flat shared with 10 other people).

Castiel is going on tour.

Hyun will probably want to move closer to his family after the trip.

Nath may or may not go to jail.

Priya wants to go back to India to fight social injustice.

Rayan is the only one staying in town for sure.

I GUESS, after some angst about a possible separation and break-up, the series is going to end with Candy making a life choice that brings her closer to her crush.

Anyway, the end is coming and I’m sad.

#my candy love #mcl #mclul 18 #amour sucré #amor doce #mcl review

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unproduciblesmackdown · 5 years ago

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merkleymrack replied to your post “kinda a funny shtick of mine that i’m aro and have such strong takes...”

(1)i agree with u 100%, i think love is hyped up so much, partially because people looove the narrative that love can save you in some way. whether that's saving you from evil, from your shitty environment, from mental illness, from sadness, or from yourself. and that is basically bullshit. "love" as a mystical force and chemical attraction between 2 people doesn't and can't do any of that. real relationships forged over time, based on trust and compromise and a fundamen-

2) tally optimistic outlook on life can help you deal with life, but that's not as snappy. and i think this ties in nicely with what you pointed out about love being perceived as isolating (in a positive way almost) by lots of people: it is because they are co-dependent and attracted to this toxic relationship because it feeds the narrative that "love" is all they need to be happy or to be saved. thats my hot take of the day

talk series criticizing Romahnce, every thursday at 6

for real though let me accuse capitalism some more for Not Great Ideas About Romantic Love b/c like!! that’s basically all you’re allowed to look for in terms of reliable companionship and Any kind of close relationship from your peers. b/c the Nuclear Family is the imposed social unit of choice b/c extended families don’t allow for enough isolation / cut-off support networks......you Outgrow the nuclear family you were born into, and then you’d better find your romantic partner asap to start the next generation nuclear family, because you’re not gonna get other support / community anywhere else, better enjoy having friends before everyone righteously pairs off and sees each other way less, because it’s Totally Fine to have all of your time -> energy -> identity -> existence consumed by just your roles as Parent and Spouse

not to mention like, whenever people of any relationship status are super overworked and like, especially with having unreliable / inconsistent schedules that don’t line up and needing to work a thousand hours a week to scrape by, people have less time to spend with each other and to foster those connections when they’re like always At Work or exhausted and recovering from work or, when they Do have some free time, it doesn’t like up with the free time of their friends’..........like hmm too bad there’s not One Person who is super devoted to Just You and can always make time and prioritize You, Alone.......

Life Under Capitalism is dehumanizing and alienates everyone from each other and doesn’t value life and commodifies anything that people might find adds Value To Their Life and like, our grievances and suffering is just Personal Problems that need to be fixed through our Personal Choices, b/c community is strangled off, isolation is pushed, and you need to Have Money or Die, and there’s the idea that the Way Things Are is flawed but ultimately okay and works out for good people............and it all brings it around to like, the idea that actually Finding Romance is *all* that life is about and is the one route to happiness. like, this concept is just casually trotted out in whatever media as blatantly as that, that “what’s even the point of being alive if you don’t find that Special Someone” and everyone just kinda goes “huh, yeah, that’s true...” like, it’s just Fine to accept that life is a hellscape and you’d want to die if it wasn’t for this one nice magical thing (your true love(tm))......like, maybe there’s a problem with that? we shouldn’t all just accept that life is unbearable but romance is the sole cure? and it’s not even really Anti-Capitalist when a holiday movie / any romcom is all like “this career person thinks that Love is for suckers and only making money is good, but then eventually their romantic interest shows them otherwise and they realize that said romance / a dash of Family is actually what Really matters” b/c it’s just like.......hey don’t be upset that you can’t actually Get Ahead under capitalism!! the people who are making more money than you are unhappy, i promise! it’s fine that you aren’t really succeeding Financially, b/c you have Love, so be happy with that and don’t think that there’s any systemic issue here.

anyways and like yeah of course it does probably seem to people like Romance is the only thing that can improve [insert any bad situation about their lives] because what even else is offered to people, seemingly, right......it’s like, first of all i hope you have a good relationship with your Nuclear Family, b/c they’re the only ones who will be Unconditionally There For You......but even if you do, it’s not like those people can be Everything in your life........and re: friends it’s like, well, i hope you’ve made super lasting friendships in high school and/or college, cuz after you enter The Working World good luck making new friendships!!! even if you do you’ll drift apart b/c nobody has time to nurture the relationship!!!! meanwhile of course everyone should be looking for romance, and hey, that will transform your life and enable you to endure all the other miserable everyday shit you go through, b/c the one person who matters cares about you. and they’d better b/c that’s the only really strong mutually supportive “unconditional” relationship you’re guaranteed! clearly!!!

like of course positive relationships of any kind tend to Improve Someone’s Life......of course isolation makes everything worse for anyone......it’s not like a good romantic relationship SHOULDN’T improve stuff for people, but like, no way should it be the case that romance is the ONE THING available and it better fix fuckin Everything or else you’re on your own when it comes to dealing with those problems that Aren’t improved and if you can’t deal with it on your own you’re fucked, cuz it’s romance or nothing!!!! it would be totally convenient to like, be deeply in love asap and have that make everything amazing and hopefully it’s ur life partner so that you don’t have to worry about Struggling On Your Own like..........a romantic relationship is really all that looks to be on the table according to the Life Narrative that’s pushed really hard. and defining that romance as “this person will always be there for you for Anything and you’ll always be there for them and you’ll always be happy as long as you’re With Each Other” is really Something when life under capitalism guarantees no happiness nor for anyone to be there for you or care about you or help you otherwise

like yeah Friends are nice but they’re kind of sold as the nice optional bonus, or like, they’re there for you but you don’t have to be there for them, low maintenance ideally, and if they drift away when you don’t spend time on them or support them then that’s fine as long as you’ve got that romantic partner b/c that’s how romance is so often defined, as being More than any other relationship, like, hey i don’t Need anything else, i don’t Need anyone else, it’s fine if i only have you, for some reason we gotta view relationships as Tiered and know which one’s you’d consider disposable if you put them all through a winner-take-all tournament bracket.......brilliant approach which is totally fine if the agenda is “give people One Good Relationship with One person which must fulfill their existence and fix everything lacking” like ok

i mean there it alll comes back around to going “augh jesus christ” at Isolation packaged as romance where it’s like “[as long as Romance] it’s fine if i die, it’s fine if i don’t have anyone or anything else, it’s fine if we never engage with the world or talk to anyone else again”.......like fuck!!!! this is horrible!!!!!! god!!!!!! Isolation is Bad gang!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and abuse overlaps sooooo hard with isolation, and you’ve got that deliberately isolating tactic that abusive partners pull that like, you can’t spend time with family and friends, it’s me vs. them, and you should always be prioritizing More Time With Me and be perfectly happy with *Only* our relationship or you don’t *really* love me..........but then this same sort of Concept will be just be touted as Ideal Romance as long as both people are cool with it lol!!! like, i don’t even Want to be around or think about anyone else, this one person is my whole Life And World, other loved ones who????? it’s Just Us now and hopefully forever, #sweet

like it’s pretty Effed Up that people have to feel like there’s only one way to expect someone to ever be at all devoted to them or really care about / understand / support them and that’s through having a Current Great Romantic Relationship, which must and should be *everything*..........like, everything i think abt “this idea about romance seems awful” is about like........romance shouldn’t be this way for even people who currently have that kind of relationship, and it should Always Be Fine to be single, even if you want / hope for a romantic relationship.........i’m keenly aware that snagging a Romantic Relationship seems like the only way to have someone committed to being On Your Side and paying attention to your existence every day. but really of course that shouldn’t be the case......and when a romance IS had, why is it worse to have a grounded view of it like, when people compare it moreso to friendships rather than to being some kind of magical bond which effortlessly yields Everything You Need In Life, so now you don’t have to care about anything or anybody else

sounds mean or Cold or whatever to be like well the way i see it is that “romance is unnecessary” but i mean, first off it is, you don’t Need it and some people don’t want it. but imo it’s not Bad to see it as just like, a sick bonus, a really awesome thing if you want it and it happens, but like, of course life isn’t Worthless or Ruined if someone who Wants a partner is single / becomes single. like, ideally Being Single regardless of whether you want that to be permanent or not should actually be enough on its own for anyone to be happy!! nobody should Need to have a partner to be happy / feel like their life is okay the way it is. like, is it not actually more ~romantic~ or whatever to feel like okay, i would be fine and happy with being single, but i would rather be with this other person because i Want to be, but i don’t Need this relationship to be okay. vs. the whole like i *need* this relationship type “that’s the puppetmaster who cursed my dick” approach where it’s like, god believe me this isn’t my idea but i MUST be with you, i’m miserable without you so i basically have no choice, this is like, the universe holding me at gunpoint. why not have choosing to be with someone just like “yeah i prefer this to Not being with you and i think it improves my life overall” without anyone having to feel like it’s their only option for happiness

anyways i really can’t imagine the concept of like, a Romance just absolutely cutting down all these other aspects of your life b/c you don’t care about / Need that shit anymore being an at-all pleasant or appealing concept versus like, it just being its own positive relationship that enhances everything and Doesn’t become your sole source for so much shit like validation and commitment and intimacy and support / help and companionship and etc etc etc etc etc etc

i’m sure this isn’t the only tangent i forgot to throw in somewhere else but everyone knows my “'teen angst’ is largely comprised of anticapitalist sentiment in the face of the hellscape and cognitive dissonance of adult life under capitalism and YA media deals with this and the struggle to find genuine connection and value in everyday existence" takes, well, it’s kinda wild how it’s basically a requirement for any YA work to have a thread of Romance running central to the whole thing. not like that doesn’t happen in other Genres, and not like some works don’t lean into that way harder than others, and not like every main char Ends Up with the/a love interest at the end, but it’s like, jeez. imo supports my idea that romance is Supposed to be *the* panacea for the ailments of capitalism

#merkleymrack #isolation = bad #Romantic Subplots keep trying to make it into evidence that the relationship is Real and Good Actually & im like. you frcking Disgust Me #don't even come at me with any strict delineation between friendship and whatever-romance-is-to-whoever-wants-to-define-it #even some cishets are out here with the innovation of like whoa what if we liked our partners?? what if we were friends with them?? wow lol

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btsvt-adventures · 6 years ago

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Cook Your Own Rice

A/N: Because of that one moment in OFD Castaway where Jisoo didn’t know how to cook rice in a pot because he assumed everyone had a rice cooker

Warnings: Nothing too serious, just some cursing and some teasing~~

Pairing(s): Jihan, maybe a sprinkle of Jicheol or something

Hogwarts AU: The Fight for Love | Cook Your Own Rice | Summer Coffee Dates | Unintentional Trouble | Fallin’ For You

Jisoo and Jeonghan never fight, about anything. They were known as the perfect (or most dysfunctional, depending on who you ask) couple in Hogwarts; the calm, caramel haired Ravenclaw prefect and the sly, platinum blonde Slytherin prince.

Mingyu still doesn’t completely understand how Jisoo deals with Jeonghan.

“We’re a lot more similar than you think Gyu,” He answers simply. “I’m not that innocent,” he laughs, motioning for Mingyu to hurry up so they won’t be late for their classes.

“He’s a scheming snake,” Mingyu grumbles, and Jisoo tuts at him, glancing at the Gryffindor disapprovingly.

They never fight.

Until one summer afternoon, when Jisoo visits Jeonghan’s sprawling mansion.

“You don’t have a rice cooker?”

Jeonghan whirls in surprise, snickering when he sees at how dramatically shocked he looks; lips in a perfect O, with his hand pressed to his chest. Jisoo scans the Yoon’s immaculate kitchen again, an affronted noise leaving his pretty lips when he comes away without said rice cooker.

“We have house elves, Ji, why would we need some muggle machine to cook us rice?” he laughs, and Jisoo scoffs, shaking his head.

“No you don’t understand– wait then how do you cook rice?” he asks, utterly baffled.

Jeonghan shrugs. He’s never been interested in cooking, but he does know the elves cook rice in the silver pot on the counter. Jisoo looks even more scandalized when he points to the pot, staring at it like it’s committed high treason.

“C’mon jagi, you’re being silly, the elves do it. What does it matter?” Jeonghan coaxes, tugging Jisoo into his arms. “Besides, I would rather show you other parts of the house, like my room,” the Slytherin hums against Jisoo’s nape. He melts instantly, leaning into Jeonghan, silently asking for more.

Jisoo giggles softly, letting his boyfriend tug him up the marble staircase. It feels so illicit, going up to Jeonghan’s childhood room to well- Jisoo’s not sure what (but he hopes it’s what he thinks it is).

“Nervous, love?” Jeonghan coos, grinning when Jisoo blushes lightly. “Nothing to worry about, no one’s ever home.”

Jisoo’s barely shut Jeonghan’s bedroom door when he’s pressed against it, eager lips slotted his own, slim fingers wrapping around his waist. Jeonghan groans when he feels Jisoo respond, heat pooling low in his belly.

It’s been so long since they’ve been able to take their time with each other. Their respective groups of friends had no concept of privacy, and Jeonghan can feel himself growing harder at the thought of not having to limit themselves to a quick bathroom fuck, or hushed kisses in the Astronomy tower after hours.

Life, however, seemed to think otherwise.

“Young Master Yoon – Oh!”

Fuck.

Jisoo gasps, shoving Jeonghan away in surprise. The Slytherin stumbles, nearly faceplanting onto his house elf. Twinkle yelps, jumping out of the way, apologies falling quickly from her lips.

“Young Master, Twinkle is so very so sorry, she did not know Young Master had a guest, Twinkle wanted to clean.”

Jeonghan groans quietly, adjusting himself in his pants. He glances at Jisoo, small smile playing on his lips when he sees how adorably mortified his boyfriend looks.

“It’s fine Twinkle. This is my boyfriend Jisoo,” he introduces, and Jisoo squeaks. “C’mon love, she doesn’t bite,” he laughs, wrapping a comforting arm around his favourite Ravenclaw.

“It’s- It’s fine, I was just shocked, that’s all,” Jisoo chokes out, still looking somewhat (read: very) flustered. Jeonghan’s about to dismiss Twinkle when Jisoo opens his pretty little mouth, and asks a single question.

“Twinkle, why do you not use a rice cooker?”

What. In. Salazar.

“Ji... did you seriously ask a house elf why a wizarding family doesn’t use a muggle contraption?” he asks slowly, and Jisoo shrugs nonchalantly.

“I mean... we use electricity, and bathrooms, those are all muggle-invented things, why not a rice cooker?” he grins impishly, and Jeonghan throws a pillow at his boyfriend, praying to Salazar himself that his genius-yet-stupid boyfriend would just stop with the rice cooker already.

“Ji, love, darling, just drop it, please for the love of Merlin just drop it,” he groans, flopping onto the silk sheets.

Jisoo laughs, settling gently on the bed, pressing a loving kiss to Jeonghan’s still swollen lips.

“Alright, alright I won’t push,” he soothes. Twinkle disappears with a snap of her wrinkled fingers, and Jeonghan tugs Jisoo down for a searing kiss.

(Twinkle ensures no one interrupts the couple, although the paintings are more than disturbed when they hear Jisoo’s cries echoing in the hallways.)

Two months later, Jeonghan receives a package from his boyfriend. He figures it’s an early birthday present, since his beloved is away visiting family in America.

The gift is large and boxy, and Jeonghan picks up the card delicately, grinning when his favourite scent (Jisoo’s cologne) wafts off the ivory paper.

Angel,

I’m sorry I can’t celebrate your birthday with you this year.

I love you dearly, and I can’t wait to see you next week.

I hope you enjoy my gift to you ;)

Love, Jisoo

P.s. COOK YOUR OWN BLOODY RICE

Jeonghan snorts with laughter, shaking his head when he unwraps the box. True enough, it’s a shiny, new, muggle, rice cooker. He should have known his boyfriend wouldn’t give up that easily.

When he tries it, he’s surprised at how easy it is to use, although he’d die before admitting it to his already smug boyfriend. He instructs Twinkle to use it only when Jisoo isn’t around, just so he can possibly salvage some of his pride.

(Jisoo already knows, he just lets Jeonghan believe he can keep up his charade. It’s cute, and Jisoo’s a sucker for all things cute.)

Please like and reblog <3 Leave comments too!

If you’d like more of this AU, or your own lil thing, of if you just wanna yell at me, you can do so here~

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cutiecrates · 8 years ago

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Review: NMNL *First Crate*

You Cuties might remember this post, when I said I wasn’t going to get this crate. You also might remember a post following it when I later claimed otherwise...

Long story short, I fell to temptation.

Here we have the NMNL box, other wise known as No Make No Life, coined from a phrase said by the Japanese by those who believe makeup is essential in their daily lives.

Now, there isn’t really anything noteworthy to remark about the box. It’s solid black with white NMNL (and No Make No Life) on the lid, front, and inside the flap. It’s chic and cool- but really boring.

If you’re curious about the texture and details of the box itself, feel free to check this post about a previous box I reviewed by the same makers.

One aspect I do like about this crate is that it has this really soft and fun grass paper stuff inside. It’s the same stuff you find in Easter Baskets ૮⍝◜•˕̮•◝⍝ა

That’s pretty much it in terms of the box/crate detail. The book follows the same plain, chic motif and is written in an American format. Like the others it includes info about the items within the box, as well as a contest at the very back.

(as much as I love these, I don’t do selfies <_<)

For the very first nmnl we receive 6 items!

This was the featured item on the post I made about the nmnl crate. It featured 4 palettes by Zawachin, a Japanese tv personality who made her name impersonating fellow celebrity looks and partnered with noyl for this product.

Each Palette is built to be used separately or together for a gradient. It also includes two different “heads“ as you can see.

(You can see the other available palettes by checking the post I linked on top.)

I didn’t think I would like this palette much, but compared to the swatch the colors are actually a lot lighter on my skin (which is already really pale ｡•ㅅ•｡) and has a bit of glitter in it. The top row is actually pinkish on skin, and you can actually see the white palette on it (while you can’t on the paper for obvs reason). I will definitely be wearing this palette, 5 out of 5

As usual, Facial Masks are a must for obtaining kawaii-soft skin. It’s also a crucial must-have for those stressful days っ- ‸ – ς

These Hello Kitty Sakura Facial Masks are nice, because not only do they smell fantastic- but you also get 8 per pack. It is recommended you use them within 60 days of opening though. 4 out of 5. The only downside is that they’re just plain white masks DX the packaging is extremely cute but I wish they had decorated them; even a tiny bit.

To go with the Sakura facial masks, treat yourself to a wash with the Sakura Facial Bar Soap! A complimenting and cute pink item to send yourself to a dream land full of beautiful pink flowers~

(and as usual I’m getting soap left and right. I took these pictures a month ago and despite how much I use them, I’m nowhere near ready to open this! But as I already promised, I will try to make a “follow up” post to include my thoughts/pics of the item I couldn’t use yet.)

Next is the other featured item in that post I linked. The Sailor Moon False Eyelashes <3 Like any other anime loving girl, I grew up with Sailor Moon and collected the merchandise. As such, I still hold a fondness for the series and it’s products.

What makes these false eyelashes special is that they are half “normal“, and half “colorized“ (As it says on the package: Color and Point). The colors fit the sailor scout you receive, with aqua and blue for mercury, green for jupiter, red for mars, and golden-orange for venus. I was a bit disappointed my favorite (Chibiusa) wasn’t included, and I also didn’t see Sailor Moon- oddly enough.

Anyway, not only do you get two pairs of these lashes, but they also come with a little container to keep them in (or other tiny items, such as contacts, some coins, maybe even a spare key if you remove the little divider piece.)

I have to admit, I do like the colors for this one. I also like that the crate included the Dolly Wink Eyelash Glue with it. Instead of making you go buy some. It has a very strong smell (maybe like white out?) though, so be sure you use it in a well ventilated area. The wand is also super tiny, but I like that detail because it probably helps those new to false lashes. I give both a 5 out of 5!

Last we have probably my favorite product here: the Puchi Animal Hand Cream <3 This was available in three types: Rose Pink Bunny, Honey Yellow Bear, and Soap Blue Sheep.

I love that they included this on a gummy carrying piece, and it blends in very smooth and quickly, making it the perfect cream on the go. It’s also organic, and too kawaii to resist. I do have to admit though, I found myself terrified of this product when I saw it!

I have an extreme allergic reaction to products with rose scents. Only certain ones though, thankfully, since the rose is my favorite flower. Anyway, this actually hasn’t done anything to me. I can breath it in without needing a tissue right after. 5 out of 5

<3 Cutie Ranking <3

Quality - I can’t give this box the default 5 points. When I opened it, I found dark blue-black staining. As it turns out, it comes from the box! At first I had no idea what it was, but after some testing I was able to deduce that whatever they use on the box- it can rub off. I think that’s kind of cruddy though, so... 2 out of 5.

Content - With this being new I honestly didn’t know what to expect with this crate. I did enjoy the products though, I just wish we got maybe one or two more for the price we pay. 4 out of 5.

Practicality - 5 out of 5. Nothing to actually say here.

Total Rank: 11 out of 15 Cuties. We’re off to a pretty good start, the only thing that hurt this was box was the fact that the black material of it can make a little bit of a mess.

<3 Cutie Scale <3

1. Puchi Animal Hand Cream - Was there any doubt??

2. Hello Kitty facial pack - It’s only up so high because its packaging is SO freaking cute <3

3. Sakura Soap - I’m a sucker for cute pink flowery designs. What can I say?

4. Sailor Moon false lashes - I love Sailor Moon and its art, but this kind of borders on pretty, not cute. Although look at Sailor Mercury, she kinda looks adorable.

5. Dolly Wink eyelash glue - It’s a tiny glue bottle, but it is PRECIOUS.

6. zawachin x noyl eyeshadow - It’s very pretty, which is not the same thing as cute~

Since I’m getting behind again, I’m going to try to hurry up and get another review in soon. Until then, stay cute!

#review #Monthly Review #monthly subscription #nmnl #nomakenolife #tokyo treat #kawaii #sailor mercury #sailor moon makeup #noyl #zawachin

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desireesroadtrip · 6 years ago

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Episode III: Return of the Jetta

It is now July 2018. I have gone on two major road trips in my life thus far. I am about to embark on the third. But before I tell you about that, let’s reflect on those first two I’ve taken…

Hello, all.

My name is Desiree Echevarria and I have wanderlust.

I’m 27 years old and have lived in Southern California my whole life. I’d like to get out immediately please, if only for a little while. And here’s why.

Every day, I go to a job that, admittedly, I like a whole lot. I have family and friends that I like a whole lot. I have a life that I sure do like a whole lot.

And yet…

I gotta get the fuck out of here.

At the end of every day, in order to get home, I drive east on one the many freeways in Southern California that are in a perpetual state of apocalyptic clusterfuckery. I sit in traffic. I dodge assholes who are seemingly using their BMWs to try to commit vehicular manslaughter on everyone else on the freeway. Sometimes, I’ll admit it, I’ll add to my own anxiety by being the asshole who’s trying get ahead in traffic using my clearly superior weaving skills. OUT OF THE WAY, JERKS, I HAVE TO GET TO MY HOUSE BEFORE YOU GET TO YOURS. I NEED THAT EXTRA 2 MINUTES TO SIT AROUND AND BE TOO LAZY TO SHOWER.

I look out the car window and see the same scenery every day. If it’s not the crumbling concrete of the rough, grey L.A. freeways, it’s the boring, well-manicured, strategically landscaped, but grotesquely artificial, ambiance of Orange County. And every day, while sitting there in traffic, I think to myself: “What if I just kept driving? What if I didn’t stop at my exit and I just kept going east? Who would stop me? No one, that’s who.”

That’s what I wrote five years ago in my mission statement (you can re-visit that lengthy manifesto here) prior to embarking on a three-week road trip across the country and back. It was a trip that, when I returned, a friend of mine referred to as a “walkabout.” I liked that. So that’s what I call it now.

I drove my Volkswagen GTI (R.I.P.) from Los Angeles through Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Colorado, Utah, and Nevada.

Pictured: Black Magic the GTI, the most beloved of all my Volkswagens.

I didn’t have any deadlines or any real destinations. I went just to see what I could see. I stopped and pulled off the road to take photos whenever I felt like it. I talked to strangers. I blogged a lot. And it was fucking awesome.

(I won’t rehash the happenings of that first trip because literally every post on this Tumblr prior to this one chronicles them in detail. I created this Tumblr specifically for that trip and am reviving it for this next one. Scroll back to read about my exploits if you’d like.)

That first trip was a major turning point in my life. It got me out of my lifelong comfort zone and made me a little more fearless in general – and that alone has had far-reaching effects. That trip shook all my shit up, in a good way.

Today, I’m 32 years old and a lot has changed since then.

For starters, I don’t like the word “wanderlust" anymore. Makes me cringe. Please forget I ever used it.

But also, I don’t live in Southern California anymore. I live in Austin, Texas – a place I encountered on that very first megatrip.

This might seem surprising because in my post-roadtrip recap back in 2013, you may recall I returned from that trip with grand plans to “kick down Hollywood’s door and take the motherfucker over.”

Narrator voice: She did not take the motherfucker over.

So how did I end up in Austin? (I get this question a lot. So, finally, here’s your answer. *Clears throat.*)

Throughout my twenties, I worked in Hollywood. When you work in Hollywood, your friends and family love to hear stories about the most glamorous parts of your job. Everyone loves hearing a story with a famous person in it, even if the story is simply, “I got an email from Jennifer Lawrence today. She seems nice.” See, there’s a famous person in that riveting story about a work email. That makes it a good story. It’s very cool to come home from work and tell people that you spent the day with Clint Eastwood or that Jay Leno showed you around his fancy car garage or that Bradley Cooper asked you for a bottle of water and you handed it to him and you will both cherish that moment forever.

It’s very cool to tell people those parts of your job. But those aren’t even the everyday moments. Those are the sometimes moments. They’re awfully cool, but what happens when the day-to-day of your job is in no way fulfilling and, in fact, sucks so much ass? That’s much less cool.

It’s a tough trade-off. Because you like being able to tell your family and friends your Hollywood anecdotes. It makes you seem interesting. You like being able to watch a movie and see your name in the credits. It makes you feel important.

And it’s a hell of a thing to have to admit to yourself that it’s not actually what you want at all.

But that’s exactly what I did at the end of 2015.

Hi, I’m Desiree Echevarria. I’m sure you remember me from The Hunger Games. I played Katniss.

Here’s where I was: American Sniper was finally finished. I worked through TWO releases of those DVDs, one per year. So I had SOMEHOW been working on American Sniper for a damn year and a half (looooong after the film had left the theaters and lost all the Oscars). So I was bored and ready for something new.

My boss came to work one day and very excitedly told me that the next movie we would be working on was Clint Eastwood’s new film, Sully, starring Tom Hanks. It was our job to produce the bonus features for it, as per usual. The film would likely be a hit, like anything else Clint Eastwood or Tom Hanks does.

And yet I felt nothing. I did not feel excited. I did not feel awe. I did not feel that Hollywood magic that I know I felt at some point in my life before.

A Clint Eastwood/Tom Hanks joint walks through the door and I feel nothing.

I was burnt. out.

Sorry, Clint.

It was time for a change, and not just on a three-week walkabout to recharge my mental batteries this time. For one thing, I was broke af (because the thing everyone loves to downplay about working in Hollywood is that the pay is shit and if you don’t like it well, fuck you, there’s a line of about a thousand suckers right behind you just BEGGING for a shot at your gig). But also, I didn’t want to have to come back to this place — not just this production company, but this Hollywood. It was time for a REAL-ASS CHANGE.

Austin, Texas was about as much of a 180-degree shift from my status quo as was possible. So that’s where I set my sights.

I moved out of my expensive-but-still-somehow-in-a-bad-part-of-town Los Angeles apartment and into my parents’ house 50 miles away in Orange County for a few months to save what little money I could (and braving the 4-hour round trip commuting to the production office in Glendale daily as a trade-off).

I remember the day I put in my two weeks’ notice at that production company. My boss, a producer who had done pretty well for himself, had gone on vacation (he went to his vacation house at least once a month, otherwise he would “go stir crazy!” he often said). I remember I was alone at the office on a Friday. And I mean ALONE alone. I had no co-workers. It was just me and my boss. Though, most days it was just me. All alone. In a small room. My boss liked to work from home mostly, and he had the freedom to do so.

On this particular Friday, I asked if I could work from home. Doing so would save me four painful hours of driving in L.A. traffic. We weren’t a busy office. People didn’t stop by. People didn’t call. We seldom got packages and if they were important (a delivery of assets from a studio or something) I sure as shit knew if they were coming. But my only project on that day was writing research reports for Sully. So, yes, I could have done my job from home. My boss could have done me a HUGE solid by just saying yes to my simple request.

Still, my boss said no. He didn’t feel “comfortable” with me working from home even though it was 2016 and the internet had been invented decades earlier. Besides, what if an office emergency came up?!

Narrator voice: An office emergency had never come up.

I said, “Okay.” And I spent that day in the office. By myself. Pouting. Lamenting my lack of freedom and control over my own life. All while my boss was sitting in a hammock, strumming one of his many vintage guitars at his vacation cabin in the mountains. This seems like a relevant time to add that this job did not come with health insurance.

I put in my two weeks’ notice that day.

I was 30 years old. And this shit was no longer worth it.

Two weeks later, I packed up my Volkswagen Rabbit (R.I.P.) with everything I owned. I didn’t own much. A friend would later call the fact that I was able to fit my entire life into a car “romantic.” I call it “poor.” I then embarked on the second major road trip of my life: the move from my home in California to my fresh start in Austin, Texas.

I didn’t know what the fuck was going to happen, but at least I was free.

Pictured: Tibor the Volkswagen Rabbit, named after the German man who sold him to me (and who replaced the Rabbit decal with a Golf decal for some reason).

Road Trip 2: The Great Escape

I drove from California to Texas in two days in a car that I wasn’t sure would even survive the trip.

The trip HAD to be two days because I didn’t want to blow what little money I had staying in hotels over the course of several nights. I didn’t have a job waiting for me in Austin – in fact, all that was waiting for me there was just one friend from California and a cheap two-month sublet to share with a stranger from Craigslist.

On Day One, I drove from Orange County, CA to Flagstaff, AZ because my friend Camille lived in Flagstaff and I stayed at her house. However, Flagstaff was nowhere CLOSE to being the halfway point between California and Austin. So my first day’s drive was just 7 hours. Meaning my second day… well, my second day was 15 hours and 1,026 miles of pure hell.

For one thing, the aux input in my car was broken and the only CDs I had with me were five Taylor Swift CDs. I know on the surface, that doesn’t seem THAT bad (after all, it’s better than silence, right?), but I listened to those five Taylor Swift CDs over and over and over again throughout the course of 22 driving hours, pushing myself to the brink of madness and back again several times over.

I tried listening to the radio, but when you’re driving through endless zero-population towns in West Texas, you can’t put a lot of faith in radio stations that play music even EXISTING. (Though, there are plenty of radio stations with loud preachers yelling about how most things are The Devil™.) So even though I was on a tight schedule, I made the time to pull over at a Wal-Mart and buy a CD – ANY CD – that wasn’t Taylor Swift. I purchased a Luke Bryan CD.

By the end of this ordeal, I would come to hate Luke Bryan as well.

(Note: I have since forgiven both Taylor Swift and Luke Bryan for what they did to me that day.)

But deeper than that, my Road Trip 2 lacked all of what made that first road trip great. I didn’t enjoy it the way I had before. This time, I didn’t take the trip slow and stop along the way to smell the roses and take pictures of interesting rocks I saw. This time, the trip wasn’t a walkabout. It was a mission, and a scary one at that.

What if I failed? What if I got to Texas and hated it, or couldn’t find a job, or ran out of money, or became a Republican? There was a lot for me to worry about on that drive.

After 15 hours, I was physically and emotionally exhausted. I thought the drive would never end – especially in the late hours driving down endless empty two-lane roads in the pitch-black darkness of West Texas, with what I still maintain to this day were UFOs in the distance. I showed up at my Craigslist sublet at midnight, immediately rolled my sleeping bag out on the floor, cried for the 90 seconds I remained awake, and then passed out.

Pictured: my first Austin apartment. I slept on a mattress on the floor for longer than I care to admit.

The first thing that made me feel better after that sad-ass moving night was waking up the next day and being able to see some familiar faces. My friend Krista, who had moved to Austin not long before I did, swung by my empty apartment, picked me up and gave me a tour of the city. That helped make the transition remarkably easier.

Pictured: my first meal on my first day in Austin at the now-defunct restaurant Bacon (R.I.P.) courtesy of tour guide, @kristadoyle.

Also, as luck would have it, my friends from back home, Kyle and Iris, happened to be on vacation in Austin during that very weekend and we were able to meet up and do some touristy shit together. And again, that familiarity in a strange new place calmed my nerves immensely. I value my friendships above pretty much everything in the entire world and things like this are why. I like to think I’m pretty resilient on my own, but I’m far more resilient with help from my pals. I highly recommend friendship A+++ 11/10, 4 stars.

Pictured: Kyle, me, and Iris during my first weekend in Austin in the quintessential tourist destination -- Dirty 6th.

But once that introductory weekend was over, I had a lot of hustling to do. I didn’t have a job AND I only had enough saved to live comfortably for two months — which meant I had two months to make it work in Austin or I would have to crawl back to my parents’ house in California with my tail between my legs. The clock was ticking.

That Monday was the first day of SXSW, Austin’s major annual music, film, and tech festival. I had decided to move to Austin in time for SXSW because people on Reddit told me that if I wanted to network in Austin and find a job, I needed to be at SXSW. But badges to get into SXSW run upwards of thousands of dollars (which I did NOT have). So I got in the only way I could – by working for free. I volunteered for a week at SXSW and got a badge in return.

And for once, Reddit was right. I got two job offers that first week.

I knew then that everything was gonna be okay.

Still, the offers I was able to get weren’t ideal. I took a job doing customer support at a website in Austin while patiently biding my time for the job I REALLY wanted to open up: a content writer position at the startup where my friend Krista worked (also as a writer). She raved about how awesome it was and how, someday soon, they would probably hire more writers. So I waited all spring and summer for that probably. For six months, I looked something like this:

Then, finally, a writer position opened up and I pounced on it. I got the job and can honestly say, it’s one of the best things to ever happen to me.

This sounds pretty anticlimactic, I’m sure. There was this thing I wanted and I was patient and then I got it. But to me, it’s been pretty life-changing.

Working as a writer at a great company (Aceable – we’re hiring) is what I wanted all those years in Hollywood. And I just never quite found it. Sometimes I worked on projects that didn’t inspire me, sometimes I was doing work I was capable of, but not passionate about (hello, post-production), and more often than not, I worked for companies that didn’t challenge me or offer an actual career path. It wasn’t their fault necessarily, but a symptom of the small-production-company-grind that plagues much of Hollywood.

But by sticking around that kind of environment, I would always be doomed to this cycle of burning out and getting out, burning out and getting out, repeat times infinity. I’d always be looking for a temporary escape and it would never be enough – because I would never truly feel like I have control over my life.

Getting my job at Aceable was the validation I needed to finally stop feeling as though I was moving backwards rather than forwards.

I never would have imagined as a kid who was OBSESSED with making a name for herself in Hollywood that I would find everything I was looking for in a career in the middle of Texas.

Oh yeah, and now I get to work from home WHENEVER I WANT.

There’s a saying that goes: Don’t cling to a mistake just because you spent a lot of time making it.

I won’t say that my time in Hollywood was a “mistake” because, in reality, I HAD to do it – all of it. If I hadn’t, I never would have learned that it wasn’t what I wanted. Some alternate universe Desiree is out there, writing a blog where she laments never having taken the chance to pursue her film and TV dreams and then leaves behind her job as an astronaut to make it happen (what an idiot).

Besides, I had my fun. I did work on cool stuff. Working on the first film I co-produced, The Hopeful, gave me some of my all-time favorite memories and left me with some awesome friends that I still have today. I got the chance to work on my favorite show of all time, The Simpsons, and for that I’ll always be grateful. But all those pursuits had significant drawbacks and, ultimately, weren’t sustainable, like a lot of film/TV career paths (but that’s a whole OTHER conversation for another day). It turns out my heart just wasn’t in it.

I also want to say, as I’ve said many times before (and y’all are probably sick of it but this is my blog, get your own) Austin is a really fucking great place. I like it here. I feel a sense of community and pride in my city for the first time in my life. My list of restaurants to try in Austin is NEVER-ENDING. It’s gotten to the point where I feel guilty going to the same restaurant twice now because I’m always thinking, “Shit, I could be trying a new place instead.” Put simply: it rules.

So I’m in a uncharted territory going into the third major road trip of my life…

Road Trip 3: The Everything’s Actually Pretty Okay

For the first time, I’m not using a road trip as a motif for some kind of escape. Progress!

I’m packing up my Volkswagen Jetta for a trip across the southwest that will be part walkabout, but also part of it will include some much needed quality time meeting up with some good friends from California. It’s a regular, good ol’ fashioned vacation. And I’m super pumped.

As always, I’ll take the time to be alone with my thoughts because while I’m at a place in my life where I feel pretty settled in a lot of ways, let’s never lose sight of the fact that I am an always-buzzing ball of anxiety and need these little jaunts as a way to reset my brain. It’s for this same reason that I like to go camping a lot (though camping in Texas seems abysmal DON’T @ ME.)

I’ve always appreciated road trips for the head-clearing they allow me to do.

I’ll take little weekend trips here and there for a breather.

There was the time when, on a whim, I drove from L.A. to the Grand Canyon because I had spent months pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into writing an awards show that turned out ABSOLUTELY AWFUL (read aaaallllllll about it here).

There was the time I drove from Austin to Scott, Louisiana (the boudin capital of the world!) to clear my head after a summer on the dating apps broke my brain – damn you, Bumble!

And then there was the time I spent an entire day driving aimlessly through the rural areas outside of Austin the weekend after the 2016 election (ugh) to calm my nerves with the sight of pastoral landscapes and the taste of out-of-town BBQ before the impending unraveling of American democracy began.

Road trips clear your head, man. They’re underrated. Whenever I tell people I’m going on a road trip, they tend to say things like “Oh no, all that driving! Hope you have plenty of audiobooks all lined up!”

And I’m like… no.

I don’t want to distract myself. The whole point is the solitude. I like the solitude.

I like that there is NOTHING to see sometimes.

I LIKE THE NOTHING.

I really believe that being in new places forces you to think differently than you normally do, and from those departures away from your normal thought patterns come your best ideas and your inspirations for growth.

My life is definitely FAR from perfect and I still have about a MILLION flaws that I have to constantly work on, but with freedom comes the time, energy, and ability to do just that.

So I guess that’s what makes Road Trip 3 different – I’ve got some freedom in my life and with it, I just want to see some cool shit and spend time with people I love, relax out on the open road, take some pictures of some interesting rocks I see, and know that when I get back to Austin, I’ll be happy to be back in Austin.

I can’t say that things will always be like this (who can?), but this is how things are right now.

Also I wish to purchase one (1) marijuana when I arrive in Colorado. IT’S LEGAL, MOM.

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outseekingnori · 7 years ago

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Internship at an Elementary School

I got the opportunity to have an internship at a local elementary school by my university. I was hoping that, by doing this internship, maybe it would help make up my mind on what I want to do with my life. I’ve been stuck between wanting to do research in the microbiology field, but I care a lot about my Japanese language and sort of developed a desire to maybe teacher English in Japan.

At the beginning of the day, the principal had me and two other students introduce ourselves to the entire faculty. This was a surprise to us three so I was nervous being up there. The principal asked me to go first and I ended up floundering, not knowing what to say. I’m not good with public speaking, English or Japanese haha. The other two students are much better at Japanese so they had no problem introducing themselves, so I was really embarrassed.

After introducing ourselves to the faculty, we later found out that we would introduce ourselves to the entire school. At least by that point, I had enough time to come up with a better introduction for the kids.

I introduced myself one more time to the kids of the classroom I was assigned to but I couldn’t think of anything new to say that I didn’t say to the entire school, so the teacher told the students to ask me questions.

First question: “Do you have a boyfriend?” No...

After that, I sat at the back of the classroom and observed what happened in a typical Japanese classroom. It’s a lot different than American classrooms, that’s for sure. Personally, I like how kids are treated in Japan better than America. The students here were given so much independent time to work on personal projects, homework, or whatever needed to be done. The teacher never hovered and there wasn’t that much lecture time in class. By 6th grade, for me, I was getting hour long lectures every class. It seems like adults have a lot more faith in the children than people in America. I see kids under 10 years old navigating the subway system on their own and no one bats an eye. Kids are given responsibility here and I think it works better than hover parents/ overbearing teachers.

Another major difference is that almost everything takes place in the same classroom. Music, gym, and English class are the exception. Otherwise, all classes are in the same classroom, lunch is in the classroom, everything. Students are responsible for cleaning the classroom and the hallways. I suppose some people would see that as child labor, but again, that’s teaching responsibility and the students never complained. Even the kindergartners had responsibilities. I always felt like I was in the way when the students were cleaning the classroom. I wanted to help but they have it down to a system and their so efficient that I just felt so useless haha.

Two very memorable things happened during my internship there.

The first memory was a project the students had worked on for several weeks. The students wrote letters to ‘important people.’ These letters were more like thank you letters/ memories of all the things done by this ‘important person’ (mom/ dad/ grandma/ grandpa/ etc.) The students wrote the letter, made cards, they learned songs, and made preparations for a special event for the 6th grade class.

The 6th grade class invited the ‘important person’ to their class . Many moms and dads came, some grandparents came as well. The students sang the song they had learned in front of everyone, and then they read their letters one-by-one.

It was probably one of the most heart-touching thing I have ever seen. So many of these kids put their hearts into their letters. Their letters were dedicated to parents, some dedicated to departed loved ones. Many of the students cried while they read their letters. Mothers cried, fathers held back tears... the amount of emotions in the room was incredible.

The teacher asked me to write a letter for my parents, even though they’re not here. I was the last person to present and by the time I got up their, I was partially choked up with tears from watching the kids, getting stage fright, and partially choked up with my own emotions from what I wrote in my letter.

I’m a sucker for that kind of stuff haha.

My other memory is that the kids were nice enough to put together a small party for my birthday. It was my birthday during my internship and the kids got together and made a card for me, as well as got party poppers and wrote on the chalkboard, wishing me happy birthday.

I’ve never been away from home on my birthday. I’ve been lucky enough to always been able to go home/ be home on my birthday. So this being my first time away from home, in a foreign country, I was a little scared that I might get a little upset/ lonely. But the kids made me happy and the care package and cards I got on my birthday made it not so lonely/ sad. I was happy.

Overall, I wish I hadn’t been so shy during my internship. The kids wanted to interact with me, but my self-consciousness of my Japanese skill sort of made me not want to talk. The boys were so funny. There was a day all the boys in the class challenged me to an arm-wrestling match. By the 3 or 4th boy, I decided I wasn’t going to lose, so by the 10th boy, my arm really hurt haha. The girls were the ones that talked to me the most. They would always compliment me. There was a day a girl told me how pretty my blue eyes were and that her brown eyes weren’t pretty. It made me a little sad to hear that, thinking so highly of a genetic defect haha. I tried to reassure her that she was just as pretty and she got embarrassed.

Maybe if I did the internship again at this stage of my Japanese studies, I would have been more confident. At the same time, I was shy because I’m a shy person so it’s hard to say if anything would have been different if my Japanese skills would have been better.

At the end, the kids threw me a goodbye party. I had taught them Heads-up, 7-up, so we played a couple of rounds of that game. The class president gave a small speech, thanking me for my time. I prepared a letter myself, thanking all the students for having me, thanking them for being so patient with me haha.

I wish I had pictures of them, but it felt a little creepy of me to take pictures of students so I did my best to write as much as I remembered of them.

#japan #studyabroad #internship #elementary #school #students #difference #birthday #memories

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theopentable · 7 years ago

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Temptations in the Wilderness, Part 1 (Matthew 4:1-11)

Market research came back with some pretty clear data following the September 11 attacks. The public were terrified of the outside world. Enter the Hummer: a military vehicle designed for war that you could now drive as a suburban car!

This was a car that offered you freedom for fear, stability in a dangerous world (even if you were actually more likely to roll over than smaller, lower to the ground cars). In a fearful world, the illusion of safety will still sell.

The art of advertising involves constructing fear and providing the product solution [1]. Listerine, back in the 1950′s were pioneers in the efforts to pinpoint consumer anxiety:

"Jane has a pretty face. Men notice her lovely figure but never linger long. Because Jane has one big minus on her report card – halitosis: bad breath." (1950s advertisement for Listerine.)

Remember SARS and our escalating fear of bird flu? The background noise of pandemic fear was all it took to drive consumers to anti-bacterial soap. Once upon a time soap was marketed as a luxury item. Now it was a necessary weapon in the fight against germ warfare as soap went from the bathroom to the kitchen.

And yet, there is virtually no difference between ordinary soap and the medical-looking antibacterial stuff many of us now have in our houses.

Vitamin water sounds promising right? Vitamins keep us healthy right (and therefore stops us from dying and getting sick and stuff)? Well yes, but not this vitamin water, despite its claims. But by the time consumers caught up with the fact it was essentially a bottle of sugary water doing more harm than good the drink had made some people very rich.

They got rich because it seemed like they sold a drink that could alleviate health fears, and yet, the drink only perpetuated health concerns!

The take home message? Fear sells. Fear moves products.

Fear moves human beings to action.

That’s actually the purpose of the emotion in human beings: if we recognise a threat we experience fear and that fear tells us to do something about it so that we are safe again.

It’s quite crude when you think about most of the consumer images we are constantly bombarded with: they are attempts to manipulate and exploit our primal human instincts to protect ourselves and keep us safe.

We are bombarded with images that tell us that if you buy this product then all of your problems with go away!

Only they don’t deliver us from our anxiety.

It might feel like it for a moment, but new insecurities and new fears will emerge.

And would you believe it, so to do shiny new products.

But it doesn’t just sell products either.

Human beings can be manipulated for other purposes too.

Trump built his whole campaign around fear, fear of outsiders mainly.

Fear of America slipping off of its powerful perch.

And it worked!

(although now a lot of people seem genuinely afraid of him)

* * *

We need to think about fear because it’s something that’s calling the shots in our lives more than we like to admit.

And because fear, in different forms, is part and parcel of the human experience.

We all have to deal with the fact that there are things that happen in and around us that are out of our control.

Things happen that we wouldn’t choose that rock our worlds.

And, inevitably, as a part of this delightful package we have this world of unsettling emotions that has a big life within us.

We have feelings living within us that can be challenging and scary and we don’t always know what to do with them.

They signal to us that there is some experience of dis-comfort.

They signal to us that there is some experience of dis-ease.

What I’ll explore over the next three weeks is that with these hard-to-have feelings come temptations that become part of how we deal with the world.

Now as adults, we don’t really like admitting that our feelings might be calling the shots in our lives.

We might not even realise just how much we do things to helps us to negotiate our hard-to-have feelings.

We might not get it or we might not like to admit it, but advertisers sure get it. People like Donald Trump get it.

And what they know is that we all want is something that will give us back a sense of comfort,

a sense of security, safety, or control.

We want to feel good, we want to feel happy, and so our feelings guide us into certain behaviours as a consequence.

* * *

And so let’s spend some time looking at this first temptation.

Jesus is in the wilderness.

Jesus is hungry and alone.

Jesus is vulnerable.

And this point of need, the devil offers Jesus a solution.

The devil is giving Jesus advice on what sort of Messiah he should be.

The devil is looking for insecurities, trying to get Jesus to question who he really is.

If you can create enough doubt and anxiety in a person you can manipulate them.

“If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread” (v3)

You hear that?

If you are the Son of God…

Prove yourself Jesus. And then the devil is kind enough to give an indication of what it might look like to prove that Jesus really is the Son of God.

Turn stones into bread.

Feed your hungry belly Jesus.

And be the type of leader that feeds everyone.

Give them bread Jesus.

Satisfy their appetites.

* * *

It’s not an unreasonable suggestion.

This is where the devil does its most sneaky work.

The devil tempts us with something that appears good.

Jesus was well aware of the hungry masses.

He himself was from a poor family.

He knew what it meant to go to bed hungry.

Most of the people in Jesus’ community lived one crisis away from utter catastrophe for their entire household.

And Jesus loved and cared for the poor.

So why not bread?

What’s wrong with bread?

The people would love Jesus for it!

I’m sure there’s worse things than being the Bread King.

* * *

What’s behind this temptation?

What seems to be on the line for Jesus is an understanding of what it really means to be human.

Jesus says to the devil

“It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

Human beings do not live by bread alone.

Of course we can’t live without bread, but there’s a bigger kind of Life that’s meant for human beings.

You are not what you eat. You’re far more than the sum of your appetites.

Now of course this probably sounds pretty obvious, but if you scratch the surface you could be forgiven for thinking that we actually take this whole living according to your appetites thing pretty seriously.

So despite the best intentions of those who marketed the Hummer post 9/11 what really sold well post 9/11 was something else: potatoes.

Why potatoes?

Well, when the world has become a deeply unsettling place, when you experience great discomfort and anguish, when you are afraid we all want the same thing: comfort.

Potatoes are good old fashioned comfort food.

For a large number of us, when we’re unhappy, we eat our emotions.

It’s our way of comforting ourselves, of self-medicating.

I’m not the only person playing this game but I am a big sucker for this one.

And it might not be bread for you. Or potatoes.

For me it’s coffee. Or anything sugary.

Any time I feel flat, or hurt, or weary, or worried I’m so much more vulnerable to this immense appetite for sugar or caffeine that lives within me.

I can smash a whole packet of lollies in no time.

Just lately our finances have been a little tight so Chels and I have both been doing what we can to keep expenses down.

For me it’s been avoiding buying coffee and any other little treat I might otherwise normally help myself too.

My goodness, I’m wide open. I am exposed.

I picked up some kind of flu-ey thing this week, but secretly I think it’s my body not knowing what to do with its regular staple of treats.

It’s my body punishing me from the inside out.

And of course, without my regular ways of coping with my normal range of hard-to-have feelings they’re staring me in the face. I can’t just eat them!

And so literally, one of the temptations Jesus faced, and one of the things all of us face, is this temptation to live for comfort, to feed our appetites with whatever makes us feel better in the moment.

None of us like feeling afraid or hurt.

So we do things to keep us from feeling that way.

Some people would say this is the basic theme behind addiction – and when I say addiction, that could be to so many different things, food, sex, television, drug and alcohol, being needed by other, you name it, but often with those things we become addicted to it’s not because we were looking to add extra problems to our lives.

It’s because we’re looking for a solution,

to our fears,

our pain,

our confusion.

It’s because we’ve found ourselves in the wilderness for too long and we no longer know what to do with our vulnerability.

And a solution comes along to make us stop feeling a certain way, even just for a bit.

And so we take, because it seems to offer us something.

Only it doesn’t come through.

Man doesn’t live on bread alone.

Temporary satisfaction doesn’t offer us what our souls crave.

Jesus says,

One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

Jesus wants us to know that we’re built for Life that can only come from God, it’s as if he wants us to discover a better addiction,

a life wrapped up in divine love, union and intimacy.

This is what St. Augustine of Hippo meant when he said,

“Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.”

Or, like C.S. Lewis, we could say the same thing in another way:

“God made us: invented us as a man invents an engine. A car is made to run on petrol, and it would not run properly on anything else. Now God designed the human machine to run on Himself. He Himself is the fuel our spirits were designed to burn, or the food our spirits were designed to feed on. There is no other. That is why it is just no good asking God to make us happy in our own way without bothering about religion. God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there.”

Jesus couldn’t reduce his vocation to the Bread King.

He couldn’t reduce human beings to mere bread-eating consumers.

Of course he could feed their appetites, he could make people feel good by taking away their worries for a moment.

But we don’t live on bread alone.

We built to run on God.

Our hearts are restless outside of God.

And so Jesus, himself in the wilderness, this Jesus who is hungry, hunted by the devil, entirely vulnerable, knows the temptation to seek out whatever makes us feel better in the moment.

This is one of the temptations in the wilderness for all of us.

But he points us beyond the temporary to the eternal, a kind of life and love we can experience here and now in God.

So what do we do during those wilderness times that are inevitable for all of us?

First, we want to be aware of our vulnerability so we can put some things in place that can help us so we’re not as easily given over to our appetites.

Be extra careful when you know you’re feeling hurt, angry, lonely or tired. We’re always more vulnerable then.

In recovery groups they’re times you lean on your supporters, your friends.

Sometimes we need someone else to be strong for us when we’re not feeling strong for ourselves.

And what you really want to cultivate over time are ways of praying and reflecting that enable new patterns and new cycles to emerge and greater intimacy with God.

When I say prayer and reflection I don’t mean times where you beat yourself up for stuffing up again or anything like that.

What I really mean are ways of abiding with the God who speaks into our being, these words:

You are loved. There is no reason to be afraid.

In love I created you in my inmost self and knit you together in your mother’s womb” (Psalm 139:13).

Prayer is really about growing into this love and learning more and more about what it means to be beloved.

It’s about dwelling in God’s company, listening to God’s voice, looking at God’s beauty, tasting God’s goodness.

Because when we taste God’s goodness it shows up everything else that pretends to offer what only God can.

This is what draws us into greater life and this is what transforms our fears.

1 John 4:18 tells us that there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.

Love changes us.

We’re built for it.

Bread is fine for what it is, but love is our destiny.

[1] Thoughts and themes around advertising and fear adapted from this article: https://www.theguardian.com/media/2014/jul/06/how-advertising-industry-concept-fear

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