#I’m supposed to be asleep except in the process of going through the emails

[nivq87]

It’s 2am and I’m a lil bummed I can’t play dabo iv just yet, and apparently 2 wasn’t supported either which is a shame because the summer sale is a great deal, BUT I checked and for the next couple days the sale is active on the switch eshop so now I own dabo2 and also dabo3 like twice over except not quite because I think that includes the expansion content which I never bought because it did not interest me at the time since I only owned 3 incidentally as a result of the wow year pass promotion at the time, and like I was already planning on staying subbed so it was just bonus stuff yay. I did like 3 even though I was pretty awful at it, maybe I can sync my bnet account and look at my stupid wizard again? Or just make a new one who give a shit. I mean I could also just redownload dabo3 to my current computer but unless my mom decides fuck yeah niv dabo3 is gonna be Our New Current Thing, I have no reason to except playing it again and looking at my wizard. But Now. I own it again again with probably the expansion content so there is New stuff. So I spent 20 bucks on it. Maybe when I finally make it through the emails backlog.

[pinkjiminssi]

So.. About That Hickey..

I think I’m still processing all of this and reminding myself I’m not dreaming 🤣 I seriously only got 3 hours of sleep last night and when I woke up the first thing I did was check twitter to be sure this “drunk bridal-style spinning hickey neck biting proudly showing off” moment actually happened!! 

.. I hate the way my brain works though. I was so happy that it took me forever to fall asleep, spent all day on cloud 9 despite being tired, .. and then my old nemesis, anxiety, stepped in. Well kind of. TBH if all of the MOTS ON:E Jikook moments we got happened with Jimin/anyone else or Jungkook/anyone else.. I would seriously be sitting here saying “well fuck.. I believe they WERE a couple, but looking at all of this it seems they are no longer together.” So really, this just confirmed what I already knew about Jimin and Jungkook: they’re a couple. My anxiety is over.. why? Why show us this? If they can cover all of JK’s tattoos, a hickey/bite mark/whatever we’re calling it should be super easy to hide. Sure it was just rehearsal.. but it was rehearsal with cameras rolling with every intention of releasing what was being filmed as future content. It could have (and some might argue should have) been covered.

Guys... I’m confused. And concerned. ❗❗❗ TW for drama, hate, homophobia, the usual anti issues

That “official” explanation.. again.. why? I’m assuming Jimin and Jungkook were asked and allowed to explain because of the chance of it being spotted and armys freaking out, so BH (or possibly even Jikook) thought to get ahead of the speculation by just being up front about it all.. but THAT explanation? I suppose it works for covering up the army panic of “Jungkook has a girlfriend?! *insert fangirl sobbing*” .. but that’s literally all it does (and only barely if you go looking at some of the anti’s reactions to it all). Really, all it did was draw even more attention and speculation. I mean.. this is, essentially, what we were told: Jimin and Jungkook were together the night before drinking, apparently without the other members as they didn’t seem to know all of this already (and they would have if they had been there), somehow hanging out and having drinks turns into Jungkook picking Jimin up bridal style (random but some of the k-army reactions on twitter were translating through google into “princess style” and I just think that’s so cute 🥰), spinning ensues, Jimin gets dizzy and wants Jungkook to put him down, ... and so he proceeds to do the only logical thing that any of us would have done in that situation... biting Jungkook’s neck? And hard enough to leave a mark the next day?? And instead of being peeved about it (like most of us would have been if our friend bit the crap out of us), Jungkook looks happy?? proud even??? 

And they arrived together the next day and continue to be cute and playful? 

I just.. I mean.. come on. First of all.. that’s a hickey. A bite leaves teeth marks. And one would assume a wild, drunken “let me down” chomp would be something that happens suddenly and ends very quickly. I know I for sure would drop someone on their ass if they decided to take a bite out of my neck (assuming I was even picking up and spinning around with one of my friends like that to begin with.. but let’s not even get into why that was going on at this point) .. but the way this bruised? Yeah. There were no teeth involved (at least not hard enough to leave indentations) and this took more than a couple of seconds of mouth-to-neck contact to still be that visible the next day. So.. in short. Jungkook arrives with a hickey, JK decides to not cover it up (or he would have shown up with it hidden and we see him get out of the car that morning with it clearly visible), BH staff sees it and also decides to not have it covered up and actually have it explained... and the explanation is “oh yeah Jimin just bit him, you know.. no big deal hehehe isn’t that funny?” 🤯 WHAT?! Yeah.. that’s totally normal, platonic behavior between adults...

I’m not saying Jimin and Jungkook are lying btw. I have no doubt it played out more or less exactly as they said with the exception of what they’re calling the end result. Jimin and Jungkook are fine.. I mean, what were they supposed to say? They’re not going to show up saying Jimin was sucking on Jungkook’s neck the night before. We’ll probably never know why Jungkook decided to not cover it up before arriving, but it’s his body and he gets to decide. It’s BH that has me so puzzled. Other than antis and people who refuse to see what’s literally right in front of their faces when it comes to Jikook.. who were BH expecting to believe the bite thing? Just among staff and the other members, it’s a laughable but safe “oh of course *wink wink*” explanation that allows everyone to carry on like normal. But to the public who don’t know them personally, don’t know their usual behavior and patterns, and who don’t have something like a non-disclosure agreement or professional courtesy preventing them from openly speculating.. it doesn’t fly. Pretty much everyone teen and up knows what a hickey looks like (either from having gotten/given one or at least seeing one on someone else in person or online). It’s immediately obvious what it is. And even if there was some uncertainty.. that it’s on his neck (instead of other easily accessible and less sensitive/stimulating locations) and just so happens to be right near his mole as it Jimin were aiming for it? Just another “too many coincidences” thing when it comes to Jikook.

Even antis on twitter couldn’t deny what it was and, so, had to resort to the “well I do that with my sibling and my uncle’s pet raccoon all the time it’s just family things” excuse and/or the “yeah well someone ELSE in the group (or a girlfriend) gave him that and they’re just covering by saying it was Jimin.” Oh. And the same old “it’s just fan service” excuse (as if Jungkook would let someone bruise his neck for the purposes of fanservice which, again, BTS has never done or needed to do. Forever pissed off that so many in this fandom act like Jungkook is a puppet doing whatever the “evil company” tells him to do regardless of his personal feelings or boundaries. The man has tattoos covering nearly every inch of his arm despite that being looked down on in Korea. At this point he can do whatever the fuck he wants). So.. why?? Seriously, why? This all could have easily been avoided with simple makeup.

When they’re doing official content they’re all literally followed around by a flurry of staff fixing hair, dabbing sweat, touching up makeup, etc. Even though it was rehearsal, staff were everywhere in the footage that’s made its way online. If they were worried that it would be seen in the background and “taken the wrong way,” just have the staff occasionally touch up the makeup. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” But instead of doing the obvious, BH decides to: not cover it, draw attention to it by asking about it and letting them continue to talk about it, go out of their way to get a camera on it, and then include it in the final cut of the content they sent out?

BTS is literally the most popular group in the world right now and BH has become a behemoth of a company that runs like a well-oiled machine. They’re not stupid; this was not a mistake. For some reason they wanted us to see this and, one would assume based on the lack of a more believable explanation, they wanted us to come to the conclusion that we all have: Jimin gave Jungkook a hickey. You know they have teams dedicated to monitoring reactions to content on social media. You know they know the dialog surrounding Rosebowl, Black Swan MMA, the Memories 2020 “almost kiss,” etc. etc. All of this got “jikook,” “hickey” and variations of their names trending for HOURS (in multiple countries and worldwide). 

Out of curiosity, I decided to check the trends at the time of writing this. As of 3 AM CST (about 24 hours AFTER the clips started showing up online), there was still a hashtag trending related to all of this: #FREEJUNGKOOK.. and the tweets being directed toward BH are.. disturbing to say the least:

While I agree that the boys should trend more often based on their talents and music.. what’s going on right now is a homophobic 💩 show accusing BH of “scripting” interactions (rather than.. you know.. Jungkook interacting with whoever he wants however he wants.. the usual “mindless puppet JK” narrative), trying to coordinate the mass sending of angry emails, trying to get people to stop buying paid content, accusing BH of taking advantage of the members.. I mean it goes on and on. And BH know what’s going on right now. They’re seeing the reactions... the good and the extremely negative. And still they let this out. And this is all not even CONSIDERING the mountain of other moments that made the cut on MOTS ON:E. 

(side note, the above pic just oozes happiness and it’s so cute I love it!! 😭)

So.. even though I’ve said it dozens of times already... WHY? W H Y? I’m an anxious person by nature and not very trusting. I believe Jimin and Jungkook and I don’t think they’ve been lying and pretending for “fanservice” all of these years. I respect them both too much as individuals and artists to believe that they would stoop to such tactics just to generate a little more “interest” and revenue. I’m suspicious of BH. BTS doesn’t need fanservice to get attention; literally all of 2020 and 2021 so far has proven that beyond a doubt. Even if they suddenly made the decision to do fs.. why not go with the most popular ship (taekook) or at least one that isn’t so hotly debated on social media (remove Jimin, Jungkook and Tae from the equation and you still have four members to “play” with who have much less potential to have fs devolve into a toxic crap show all over the internet). Showing us this will do nothing to help BTS as a group or Jimin and Jungkook at this point. In fact.. all it can do is hurt. Hurt BH, hurt the group, and hurt the individual members, heck.. even potentially hurt other BH/HYBE groups. I’ve already seen people on twitter saying they’re “done” spending money on anything BH or BTS puts out because they’re “sick of jikook in their faces and just two of the seven hogging all of the screen time.” Whether or not that “spending freeze” actually materializes into anything noticeable remains to be seen of course.. but the threat is there and always has been. What is the motive? And why now? As much as my “hopeless romantic” heart would like to believe they’re preparing us for Jikook to be “out” .. I seriously don’t think that is ever going to happen. Certainly not now at the height of the group’s fame, with them being given Presidential honors and ambassador status, and with military service still looming over them all. And let’s not forget... Korea is NOT a safe place for a queer couple. Letting us see and know what they did through what was released has the potential to put Jimin and Jungkook (and the other members by proxy) in danger. Sure.. BTS has never been hardline rule followers and have been breaking molds and shattering norms from the start, so “officially” having an openly gay couple in the group wouldn’t be impossible.. just... highly highly improbable. Especially right now... and I’m concerned. I don’t want to sound like the creeps I posted a screenshot of above throwing blame at the company. The boys chose to renew their contracts with the for a reason so we have to trust their judgement as a group... but still, I’m worried and I’m questioning what the purpose was here. 

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt.3

Part One, Part Two, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Longer one this time! As always, let me know if you want to get tagged in the next part.)

—————————-

“I hate this,” you whined, as Garcia pulled you through the crowded streets, “why didn’t we drive straight to the office, again?”

“Because, my little Grumpy Gus, you look like you barely slept, and this place has the best coffee in the city.” She promised, giving your arm a squeeze.

You grumbled under your breath, but didn’t complain, letting Garcia ply you with endless cups of coffee.

“Are we getting for the whole team?” You asked, your mind drifting to your late night message to Spencer.

Garcia paused, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, “Yeeeeees, why?”

You shrugged, “I was just asking. No need to read into anything.”

“This is about Spencer, I can tell. Spill it.”

You groaned, letting your head thump down onto the table, “How do you do that?”

“I’m a veritable fountain of knowledge, Y/N, you know this,” she teased, “plus I speak fluent Y/N, especially the little known Spencer Reid dialect.”

“Witch!” You said accusingly, “You’re a witch!”

“You flatter me,” she winked, tapping your forearm, “now spill it.”

You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee, “It’s nothing, I just-I messaged him, alright?”

“You did what?”

“I messaged him! And it was stupid and he didn’t even respond, so it’s not important.” You explained, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Penelope gasped, “He didn’t respond?”

You shook your head, “Nope. Nothing, look-“

You took out your phone and glanced briefly at the screen, frowning when you spotted the notification from the night before. You swiped up, your eyes tracing his response. Something in your stomach pinched.

“Huh.”

“What?” Penelope asked, “What is it? You’re legally obligated to tell me, it’s in the rules.”

“He-uh-“ you stared at the screen, still frowning, “he responded. I must’ve fallen asleep…”

“Ooohhh my gosh, what does it say? What did you say? Is it romantic?”

You pressed your lips together, your mind whirling at a thousand miles an hour as you try to figure exactly what Spencer meant by “I did.”.

“It’s-“ you shook your head, “I don’t know really.”

Something in your tone must’ve let on how conflicted you were feeling because Penelope let the matter slide, just giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

“Let’s get to work, Sugar,” she said, standing and extending her hand for you to hold, “we’ve got crimes to solve.”

You gave her a weak smile but let her pull you to your feet, trying to force your mind away from Spencer and back onto your case.

“That we do, Garcia, that we do.”

——————————-

“We come bearing gifts,” Garcia announced as she pushed open the door to the BAU, “sustenance in the form of sweet, sweet caffeine.”

Your eyes instantly flew to Spencer, giving him a weak smile which, to your intense relief, he returned. You also noticed, with a rush of fondness, that he’d kept your side of the desk clear.

“Garcia you’re an angel,” Emily smiled, pushing away from her desk to accept a cup.

“Speaking of angels,” you sighed, carrying a cup of coffee flavored sugar over to Spencer and taking your seat next to him, “have we got an ID on our victim yet?”

“Marcus Wilcox,” Spencer said, flipping open the file closest to you, “25 year old drug addict and male prostitute. He went missing two weeks ago and was reported missing by his best friend.”

You glanced over at the picture of the man whose body had been left in your bookstore and felt the familiar pang of sorrow in your chest. There was always going to be another one, another life cut short, another dead son or daughter who’s family would grieve their loss for years. It was enough to put a damper on anyone’s morning.

You could feel eyes on you, heavy and questioning and you found you couldn’t look up to meet their gaze.

“Anything unusual in the M.E.’s report?” You asked, still avoiding the eyes.

“All the mutilation was done postmortem, so that rules out sadism as a motive,” JJ suggested, accepting a cup of coffee gratefully.

“High levels of caffeine in the blood too,” Emily pointed out, “and…” she pressed her lips together.

“What, Em?” You asked.

She looked up at you nervously, something like sympathy in her eyes as she said, “Biscuits, in his stomach. They found brown butter biscuits and coffee in his stomach.”

Your blood froze and you felt a rush of nausea. You put your cup down, suddenly not thirsty anymore.

“Is...that significant, somehow?” Hotch asked, his perpetual frown firmly in place.

“They’re the best sellers at Y/N’s coffee shop,” Spencer said, something off in his voice, “she sells them fresh every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.”

You looked over, shocked, and noticed that Spencer was working his jaw, like he was angry, his one hand curled into a fist under his chin. You itched to reach out and touch his forearm, like you once would have, but you restrained yourself.

“What the hell is this guy doing?” Emily asked, “Why go through all this trouble to personalize the crime? What’s driving him?”

“It’s gotta be erotomania, right?” Morgan asked, “Someone’s trying to get Y/N’s attention.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you insisted, frustrated with having the same conversation again and again, “stalkers don’t start off with an elaborate and expertly executed murder. If it was erotomania, why not call first, or email or leave notes at my apartment? There’s been no build up to this sort of violence.”

“Plus, the victim has no connection to Y/N,” Spencer pointed out, “erotomaniacs want to reinforce their supposed devotion to the object of their affection, if he wanted to do that he would’ve picked someone Y/N knew, like an ex-boyfriend or an enemy of some kind.”

“Some who he thinks Y/N would actually want dead,” Emily agreed.

“Reid and Y/L/N are right, there’s something more to this, something we’ve missed,” Hotch said, “Garcia, I want you to go through everything you can find about Marcus Wilcox and see if he came into Y/N’s store at all. Maybe he’s a customer who was rude and offended the UnSub. After that, comb through Y/L/N’s life again; old friends, high school classmates, college professors, agents she worked with on cases, anyone who could have formed an attachment and been stalking her without us knowing.”

Garcia paled under her Barbie pink lipstick, “Sir, I-“

“It’s fine, Garcia,” you assured, giving her a soft smile, “I’ve got nothing to hide. You’ll have to get permission from the CIA to access some of my case files though, there’s some sensitive data in those.”

“I’ll call the director myself,” Hotch said, “that’ll expedite the process.”

“But, sir, sorting through all that data could take weeks,” you pointed out, “what do we do in the meantime?”

Hotch pressed his lips together, and you sighed, sensing his next words before they even came out of his mouth.

“We work cases, as usual,” he said, “Y/N, yours will still be our priority but, until we get a new lead…”

“We’re stuck.” You finished. You breathed in, trying to calm your restless nerves, and pushed yourself up, “Well, it was lovely seeing you guys again, but I guess that’s my cue.”

“What?” Spencer said, sitting up suddenly, “No, Y/N you can’t just leave, if there’s someone out there delusional enough to do this to get your attention then it’s not safe.”

“I’m with Boy Wonder,” Garcia agreed, shooting you an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Sugar Plum but this whole thing is just icky and gross and I’d feel much better knowing you were here.”

You looked around, but we’re met with a wall of concerned faces. You wanted to scream. Nothing about this situation was fair. You hated feeling helpless, it was why you’d joined the FBI in the first place and, ultimately, why you’d left.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do while we wait for a lead?” You asked, “I can’t go home, I can’t go back to work, I can’t just sit here all day until my assigned babysitter for the night is free.”

“You could join us on cases,” Hotch said simply, “if I’m not mistaken, you’re still officially an agent so you’re cleared to be in the field.”

Spencer and Emily sucked in a breath in unison, and you shut your eyes. Shit.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Emily asked, “You never actually resigned?”

You shot her a sheepish look, “I meant to! I did! It was just,” you shrugged, “at first I wanted the safety blanket in case normal life didn’t work out and, once it did, I just-“ you trailed off.

Truth be told, you didn’t know why you’d never left. It was really only one document that you needed to sign, it would take less than three minutes to complete, there was nothing stopping you. You’d even filled it out once or twice but, for some reason, you always stopped before actually submitting it.

You shot a nervous look at Spencer, who was determinedly avoiding looking at anything except a particular patch of empty air, and sighed.

“So...what does that mean?” Morgan asked, “You’re back on the team?”

“Agent Y/L/N has technically been on an extended sabbatical for the past year,” Hotch explained, “ideally we would be able to keep her on in an advisory capacity while we work her case but, with her safety being such an issue, for the time being, yes, she’s back on the team.”

——————————-

You collapsed into your old seat on the jet, exhaustion weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It had taken almost no time for Hotch and Garcia to brief you on the team’s newest case and, before you could even pack a proper Go-Bag, you were wheels up and on your way to Tampa Bay. It was a fairly standard case, or as standard as it got for the BAU at least, and it had only taken three days to catch the guy, but it had still taken the life right out of you. Hotch had noticed your distress and sent you ahead to the jet with Rossi while the rest of the team finished packing up. On the one hand you resented being treated like a child, on the other….well, you were exhausted.

Rossi sat down across the aisle from you, handing you a mug of warm hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully. He raised his eyebrows in that grandfatherly way, like he was asking you a question, and you smiled.

“What?” You asked, “I can tell you’re thinking something.”

“You love this” he said simply.

“Love it?” You laughed incredulously, “Rossi I haven’t been this tired since I spent three full days setting up my shop. I’m exhausted.”

“And you love it,” he insisted, “I can see that Evil Genius sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours.” He gestured at your face and you smiled, “Not that I blame you. Catching killers tends to be more exciting than baking cookies.”

“Hey, I thought you loved it when I made cookies!” You complained, whacking his hand away in mock outrage, “You said they were your favorite!”

“They are, I’m just making a simple observation, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” you said suspiciously.

“Here’s another one; there’s tension between you and the Good Doctor,” he continued.

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t disagree, letting your mind wander back to the last three days. After Hotch’s little announcement to the team, things had been...odd with Spencer. Actually, you couldn’t be sure that was the catalyst, for all you knew things could’ve been weird before that but, now it was just impossible to miss. He would bounce between avoiding you like the plague and actively seeking out your company; sitting next to you at dinner one minute and then purposely standing as far away as possible the next minute. It sucked. It sucked and it hurt your feelings and it was confusing, so there was no point in denying it to Rossi.

“I just wish he’d talk to me, you know?” You said, “Or yell, or shout or something. Like, if you’re angry then be angry. At least then we could talk it out, but this-“ you shook your head, “I hate it.”

“Ah, kid,” Rossi commiserated, patting your knee comfortingly, “I don’t think he’s angry, and that’s probably part of the problem.” You looked up, confused, and Rossi continued, “If he was angry, things would be a lot simpler. Like you said, you could just yell for a bit, and then it’d be over. No, I think Spencer’s just hurt and confused. He blames himself for you leaving and, now that you’re back, he’s happy, but he feels guilty about being happy because you’re in danger.” He explained, “It’s a confusing time for him, for you both.”

You sat up, “Wait why would he blame himself for me leaving?”

Rossi looked down, like he was thinking hard but, before he could say anything, you heard footsteps and the rest of your team boarded the jet. You shot Rossi a look that said “we’ll finish this later”, and then turned away, smiling at your friends.

“Hey,” you greeted, letting Morgan ruffle your hair.

JJ gave you a small smile, but your eyes went straight to Spencer, Rossi’s words bouncing around inside your head. To your surprise, he collapsed into the seat beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I-uh-I was hoping we could talk.”

Your heart leapt, but you tried to keep your face neutral as you answered, “Sure thing, Reid. What about? The case?”

“Actually,” he said, his voice still low, “I wanted to talk about you.”

You pressed your lips together, but nodded, following Spencer’s lead and leaning in to avoid being overheard as your team settled in for the flight home.

Spencer was silent for a moment, like he was thinking, and then, “Why didn’t you resign? I thought you wanted out.”

“I did, or I thought I did. Reid, when I first left I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I guess I wanted to be able to come back if things went wrong.” You explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You paused for a moment, “Spence-“

His breath hitched in his throat, “The first time, when you were thinking about leaving. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-“ you sighed, the exhaustion rolling over you like a river, “I didn’t want to worry you until I was sure and then, after that….” you shrugged, “it all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, like he understood, and you watched some of the tension leech out of his body. For the first time he met your eye, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He said.

“Spence you’ve got nothing to-“

“I do,” he interrupted, “I promised you that we’d always be best friends and then, after you left, I just stopped trying.”

You were conflicted. Some part of you had been longing to hear this for months, ever since the texts, visits and calls had stopped out of the blue but, now that you were actually hearing it, it just made you sad.

“You did try,” you reminded him, “you came to the store a few times, helped me organize my books.”

He shook his head, “Not often enough. It just-it just got so hard, you know? Seeing you every weekend and knowing you weren’t going to be there when I got to work the next day,” he explained, his voice cracking, “watching you have this whole life outside of us, it just started to feel like maybe I didn’t fit-maybe we didn’t fit.” He gestured to the team, “And I thought maybe you were better off-“ he trailed off.

“Hey,” you cut in, reaching out and covering his hand with yours, “hey, listen to me. You guys are my family. You’ll always be my family, no matter what happens. I’m sorry you ever felt like anything else was even possible. I could never be better off without you guys.”

The hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth, and he squeezed your hand gently.

“If it’s okay,” he said, still smiling hopefully, “I’d really like for us to be friends again. I know I broke a solemn oath but, if you’ll trust me, I’ll never let it happen again, I promise.”

Your smile felt so wide that it hurt your cheeks as you pulled him into a hug, savoring the way he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“Of course, Spence,” you smiled, still holding him close, “of course.”

“God, I missed you,” he admitted into your neck, “no one else pretends to care about Star Trek as well as you do.”

You laughed and let him go, feeling the distance that had formed over the last year vanishing bit by bit.

“I’ve missed you too, Doctor Reid.” You said, “But, I’ll admit, I haven’t missed the Star Trek talk as much.”

“None of us miss the Star Trek talk,” Derek said, making you both jump, “honestly, I miss not knowing about Star Trek.”

“Preach,” JJ agreed, “Y/N/N, I know you’re in charge of what we watch tonight but I’m begging you, please pick something made for adults? I’ve been watching nothing but Marvel and Disney for months.”

“But I love Disney,” Emily complained.

“Rest assured,” Rossi interrupted, “it’s my entertainment system and I don’t even have any Disney.”

“You have Lord of The Rings though, right?” Spencer asked.

You watched your team bicker amongst themselves, laughing like you hadn’t laughed in months. Being together like this was like a healing balm for your frayed nerves, bringing you back to a place of calm, like you’d just come home from a long trip. In the back of your mind, you knew there was still work to be done, old wounds you needed to address and mysteries you needed to solve but, for now, you were just happy to be with your family. For now, this was enough.

—————————

Spencer felt like he was living in some sort of strange fever dream, like all his months of sulking had finally driven him mad and now he was physically imagining things as he helped you out of his car. Touching you always made him a little dizzy but, over the years that you’d worked together every day, he’d managed to build up a tolerance, a tolerance that was now almost completely gone. It had been months since everyone had agreed to have family dinner at Rossi’s, but now that you were back, he’d insisted. Spencer was on cloud nine. He had his best friend back and, for the first time since you’d left, things felt good again, like he was exactly where he should be.

As you sat around Rossi’s table, swapping stories and reminiscing over the past, Spencer had to fight to stop from staring at you. You were really there. He could reach out and touch you. If he called your name you would respond and your eyes would light up the way they always had, like he was the only person in the world you wanted to see. It was surreal. In the back of his mind, Spencer knew he was being selfish, that he shouldn’t want you to stay this time and he should be itching to find out who was stalking you so that you could go back to the life you’d built. But he wasn’t.

When JJ had gotten the call that you needed them, Spencer had thought his heart was going to implode from all the pent up longing he’d kept stored away. Seeing you hadn’t exactly improved things. He’d spent the entire day trying to hold himself together, unsure of how to act around you, playing through every single memory he’d been keeping repressed for all this time like it would somehow give him the answer. God, half the time he’d wanted to scream, the other half he’d wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go ever again. As his eyes traced the plains of your face, plains he’d memorized a million different times, he felt a flicker of that old flame burn in his chest, like the embers of a fire that had never really been put out, and he sighed.

“Hey, kid, where’s your head?” Morgan asked, his voice soft enough to avoid being overheard.

“Hmm? What?” Spencer replied, tearing his eyes away from you as you laughed at something Garcia said.

“Your head,” he repeated, where’s it at?”

Spencer thought for a minute, and then smiled, “I’m good. Really good, actually.”

Morgan nodded, a little too knowingly for Spencer’s liking, but let the matter drop. Just then, the unmistakable ping of Hotch’s cell cut through the late night air and, as if on cue, every eye in the house turned to face the sound. Hotch examined his phone, his frown deepening and sending shivers of worry up Spencer’s neck. He wanted to say something, to stop Hotch from giving them whatever horrible piece of news was on that phone, but he couldn’t. He just sat and waited, like everybody else.

“Hotch?” JJ eventually asked, her hand gripping yours, hard.

“They-uh-” Hotch started, showing a rare moment of nerves, “they found another note at Y/N’s apartment.”

Several people swore, Garcia whimpered, Derek slammed his fist against the table, but you just stared straight ahead, your face stony and unmoving. Spencer wanted to reach out, but he was frozen in place.

“What did it say?” You asked, “Is it another love poem?”

“No,” Hotch answered, “it’s a string of numbers; 29.07.15/18.01.14/38.8765.77.0006.”

“Reid, you got that?” Morgan asked, shooting him a look.

Spencer felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he nodded, “I’ve got it.”

“But, that’s not all, is it?” Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head, “They found another body. This time in an empty storefront a few blocks away from Y/N’s apartment.”

“Probably the site I’d picked out for the second branch,” you supplied, “I just signed the deal three weeks ago.”

You buried your face in your hands, sighing as the atmosphere around the dinner table took a turn for the worst.

“Well,” Emily said, “Looks like we’ve got our lead.”

Hotch nodded, “Let’s get to work.”

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless​, @reidloversisforever​, @ashookykooky​, @l0ve-0f-my-life​, @shilohpug​, @tangerinenotions95​, @petitchatonbleu, @pirateismywayofspeaking​, @must-be-a-weasley-92​, @whovianayesha, @holding-on-to-my-youth​

[nanagoswife]

For You? Always.

Chapter Fifteen

Summary: Some good news and soft moments...

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: There will be another chapter of this posted today. I've been excited to get to the next chapter and I'm not patient enough to do it tomorrow so, look out for that. Enjoy 😄

This time, Ben was still asleep when you opened your eyes. His normally fixed hair was once again in a mess, the only thing that looked chaotic. The rest of him was in complete comfort as he was sunken into the pillows. Everything about the sight of him was one of peace. Your love for him rose the longer you stared at him.

Brushing some of his hair to the side, a smile spread onto his face. Ben met you with his gaze, his blue eyes sparkling from the morning light even through the squint as he adjusted to the brightness. Even his strawberry blonde hair seemed to glow brighter. It was a sight that you adored and wished to see many more times.

Uncovering his arm from the warmth of the blanket, he placed his hand on your cheek, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone. The gentleness of it soothed you enough for you to close your eyes and lean into the touch.

Opening your eyes again, his eyes were wider and his smile was brighter. “Good morning, my darling,” he said, slightly raspy. It didn’t phase you though as you were used to his morning voice at this point. He propped himself up on his elbow to get a better view. His movement caused the blanket to slide down more, exposing his chest. This only added to the scene.

Grazing his cheek with your hand, you moved your hand to splay your fingers through his hair. With a quick smile, you pulled him off of his balanced elbow, causing him to fall onto you, and pressed your lips to his. To lift his weight, he once again propped himself up, this time on his forearms. But, you wrapped your arms around his back and pulled him back down.

Lips still connected, he laughed and mumbled, “I see you’ve picked up a new confidence.”

“Only because you make me more confident,” you replied after separating your lips, but keeping your foreheads pressed together. His eyes brightened with the smile that spread across his face. Then you added, “And I trust you.” Then, you kissed the beauty mark on the right side of his face, something you’ve wanted to do for a while but held back in shyness.

Before anything else, a knock sounded at the door. You were about to get up to answer it, but Ben told you not to, and got up, first grabbing a shirt that he left hanging open.

Opening the door, Derek was standing there, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but Claire wants to talk about business now. This visit has just been cut short.” Ben looked back to you. You were already up and nodded to Derek. He proceeded to walk away to leave the two of you alone to get ready.

When you had gone downstairs, Claire had told you and Derek that she was going to publish with you. Derek and you had been ecstatic. All of you celebrated after a small conversation of certain business details were discussed.

The next day, you were beside Ben on the plane home. Even when he dozed off, he held your hand.

Now, a few weeks had passed since that week and a bit. Ben moved in with you a week ago, the process being quick as he only really had his clothes, desk, and work things to bring in. He donated everything else to a shelter and gave any extra to the nearby thrift shop. There were a few mugs he had kept that you knew were his favourites, but that was it.

Since he had seemed to almost always be at your house, it seemed as if nothing changed. Except, now, you don’t have to ask him to stay or convince him to stay the night. This is where he will always be other than late night work sessions with Siara at her and Brian's. Plus, it helped him get closer to Brian. They seemed to talk about anything and everything according to Siara. Well, when he didn't have to work, anyways.

At the moment, well the whole day, you didn’t have any work that needed to be done. You spent the day emailing different people just to confirm events, meetings and just for the sake of talking to them. All was mellow before hearing a knock against your office door frame.

Turning your attention from your computer to the visitor, your eyes meet the gentle blue of Ben’s. You smiled a welcome as he stepped in and closed the door.

“How are you doing, darling?” he started off. There was something that flashed across his eyes but disappeared before you could identify what it was.

Standing up, slightly confused by the closed door, you walked around your desk, “I’m doing well. I can tell there’s something wrong. Is everything okay?”

Ben nodded his head before taking your hands and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Yes everything is okay. I’m a bit stressed so I wanted to come see you to help ease my mind a little” This earned a smile from you as you rested your head on his chest. Wrapping his arms around you, he put his head on top of yours and occasionally pressed kisses into your hair.

The two of you stood together for a few moments before an idea popped into your head, “How about we have a quiet night. I have some vinyls that we could quietly play through a home cooked meal and the rest of the night. It would help you to relax.” Looking up to his eyes, he met yours with a loving smile.

“Of course. I know that I’ll have a night off from anything extra as well.”

For a few more sweet moments you dug your head back into his chest.

"As much as I'd like to stay here with you," he started when you slightly pulled back, "I still have some work to do. I'll meet you back here when I'm done?"

Reluctantly, you nodded and separated yourself from his embrace. Giving you a quick kiss, he left.

All you wanted was to go straight to the end of the day. Thankfully, it was only a few more hours until that happened.

Like he said, Ben met you at your office when the day was finally over. He offered you his arm for the walk home where a calm evening was awaiting. And it was just that.

From the moment you had both walked through the door everything seemed to lighten. You quickly made your way to your office, where your record player and vinyls had been kept, to bring it to the main area of the house.

Putting the needle down on the first record, Ben was watching while your fluid movements moved through the room.

When you moved to the kitchen, he met you there to help.

"No. You go and sit down," you told him sternly.

"Come on. Can I not help with something?" His voice was almost pleading but he smiled.

Playfully, you pushed him away by his chest, "No, you cannot. It's your turn to be taken care of." You tried to keep your face serious, but you failed when you looked in his eyes.

Finally. he sighed and sat down on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. Even though you would prefer he got more comfortable on the couch, you knew that this was the best it was going to get.

You knew, as he was a cook, it was hard for him to remove himself from doing this task. Yet, he had already made dinner for you plenty of times. Now it was time to do the same for him.

Ben, though, did like watching your process and bit his tongue whenever he thought of anything as a suggestion. He knew that this was your time to treat him.

Once the food was ready, you set the table and added a few candles to add to the slowly dropping sunlight. After placing the meals onto plates, you both took your places at the table.

Ben looked up at you after admiring his plate, “Oh, how I love you. This looks amazing.” A small blush creeped up to your cheeks. He took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles.

“And I love you,” you said while bringing your free hand up to graze the side of his face. A smile spread across his face as he leaned into your touch before turning his attention to the plate of food in front of him.

When you finished eating, you quickly dealt with the dishes and met Ben in the living room beside the record player. He was flipping through the box of records with a look of admiration when he passed by the Frank Sinatra albums. Finding the one he was hoping for, he slid it on the record player, letting ‘Fly me to the Moon’ fill the room.

Holding out his hand, you took it as he stepped forward and brought you to his chest. Slowly, he started swaying while holding you closely. His charming smile beamed as he looked down at you and placed a kiss on your lips.

The song continued as you rested your head against his chest, listening to his soft humming along to the tune.

This was how the majority of the evening went. The only time you left each other’s arms was to change the record. Each one was carefully picked by Ben to keep the mood, not disturbing the tender moments of the night.

There, in the warmth of his arms, you felt at home. It felt as if this was where you were always supposed to be. Where you should’ve been since you met him all those years ago in high school.

Time alluded you through the night, to the point that hours had gone by. Still, in Ben’s arms, he kissed the top of your head after you slightly shifted your head.

“Shall we head to bed, darling?” he asked in an almost whisper with his lips still placed against your hair. So as to not disturb the moment, you hummed in agreeance rather than nodding.

Feeling Ben smile, he slowly moved towards the record player to lift the needle and stop the turntable. Then, keeping you in his arms, the two of you slowly made your way to the room. When you had to break away from his warmth, you almost whined from the loss of contact.

Noticing this, Ben quietly chuckled as he started to change, you following suit. The quicker you were, the quicker the warmth of his arms will be back, this time to lull you to sleep.

Getting into bed, that's just what happened. Under the warm covers and the gentle hold of Ben all accompanied by his continuation of soft humming, you fell asleep. Ben had waited to see your breathing steady from sleep before letting his own mind rest while he listened to your soft breathing beside him.

@stardancerluv @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @where-fantasy-meets-reality @wintersoldiersthings @hopeladybug

[tinybangtanangel]

★~BTS REALITY~★

BTS is holding a special reality series with fans as a celebration of ten years performing. The goal is simple, be the last girl standing and you might win yourself a big ol' prize.

Now who in their right mind would pass up on an opportunity like this? Definitely not you.

Rated: M (it doesn’t seem like it now, but it’ll get there eventually)

Relationship: OT7/Reader

1 | 2 | ?

                           Chapter 2: ★ INTERVIEW★

Unfortunately, the ride was not as long as you had anticipated. As quickly as you had fallen asleep, Mr. Park was shaking you awake moments later telling you you had arrived.

The hotel wasn’t as luxurious you had expected it to be, but it was cozy. Cold air welcomed you as you walked through the doors, the contrast in temperature from outside further waking you up. As you lounge on the comfy lobby couch, Mr. Park was talking to the receptionist, probably getting your room set up for you. You had to make sure to thank him later.

As you slumped into the couch, your mind wandered back to the interview. BigHit hadn’t mentioned any requirements besides the designated day and location within the email. Supposedly you were going to be given the information regarding your specific interview later today, though a specific time of when you weren’t sure. You glanced over at Mr. Park, trying to gauge how things were doing.

He seemed deep in conversation still, though things seemed to be running smoothly. You were too tired to translate what was being said between him and the lobby receptionist, instead, settling on going back to running over tomorrow's plans. Your mind soon begins generating questions that could be asked tomorrow.

Question one, ‘Why do you deserve to be on this show?’ 

You blanch at the question. How were you supposed to answer this without sounding entitled? On second thought, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, it was only adding to your stress for tomorrow. So caught up in your thoughts, you don’t notice Mr. Park making his way towards you as you continue trying to come up with an answer to the difficult question.

“Are you ready for room?” Mr. Park asks. You gasp, startled. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, and quickly stand, leaning on your suitcase for support.

“Yes, yes, thank you, Mr. Park,” you respond shakily, still startled by the interruption.

You follow Mr. Park as he leads you to your room silently. You feel tense as you walk behind him, too tired and stressed to make conversation.

When you arrive at the room, Mr. Park turns to you with the key.

“My boss was going come here, but he busy, so he’ll email, okay?” He says, using his hands to enunciate the words.

Taking the offered key card, you bow slightly and unlock your door.

“Yes, I understand, thank you Mr. Park” you respond. Bowing once more, you turn and enter your room, immediately making your way towards the bed. A soft click sounds as the door closes behind you. 

Closing your eyes, you sigh. You could feel a headache ebbing its way at your temple from lack of sleep and the toll of a long flight on your body. You turn towards your phone one last time to check your email for any updates; but alas nothing new. Great.

Pulling your shoes off, you plug in your phone and set an alarm for three hours. Hopefully, you could get some sleep for now, and later you would check your email for updates on the interview. You tuck the sheets tightly around you and quickly drift to sleep.

----------

Three hours later the shrill tone of your phone is jolting you awake. Clumsily flinging your hands, you seek your phone on the dresser beside you. 

Why was it so hard to shut the damn thing off. 

Two minutes and many aggressive taps later, the alarm had quieted. Groggily, you open the email app, clicking your inbox for anything new.

You find BigHit’s email and begin to read through the information. Your interview was at 12:30 pm. You hoped the staff wouldn’t be too tired by then, especially with having to go through the same interviews over and over again. Luckily for you, though, this gave you enough time to wake up at a comfortable time and choose a nice outfit for the day, worry-free. You hum, content with the information given. You continue to read down the email but stop short when your eyes hit the next line.

Though it is not guaranteed, the seven men of BigHit’s BTS may decide to make an appearance during the interview process, in which we ask that you kindly pay them no mind and carry on answering our questions.

In an instant, your mind was reeling at this unexpected statement. Your palms grew sweaty and you could feel your heartbeat pick up pace. 

How could they just drop this on you and not expect you to freak out? 

Sure you wanted to meet the guys, it was the dream of a lifetime, but how were you expected to sit there and answer questions normally with seven international idols watching you? 

“Ugh” you cringed inwardly, slapping your hands onto your face. This added pressure was not what you needed right now. 

You slowly unravel yourself from the sheets and walk your way towards the bathroom. At that moment a hot shower sounded like the perfect way to clear your head.

Except now here you were, naked and burning in scalding water, still freaking out over the fact BTS could decide to make an appearance during your interview. How you were going to manage a full night of sleep with this knowledge was beyond you.

After you’re sure your skin has peeled off from the sheer temperature of your shower alone, you step out, grabbing the fluffy hotel towel closest to you. 

Drying yourself off, you sift through your luggage for your pajamas before making your way back back to the bed. Despite the three hour nap you had taken, you were still tired, though you weren’t sure you’d be getting much sleep now with your mind still overwhelmed with thoughts of what may happen tomorrow. 

Sighing to yourself, you reach over and shut the lights off. Whatever happens tomorrow is out of your control now, no use losing sleep over it. You close your eyes to the darkness and allow yourself to fall back into sleep.

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

You were running late. 

Waking up at 10, despite getting more than enough sleep, was not a part of the plan. You had only woken up when room service came knocking at your door, in which you leaped out of bed when realizing the time. Now you only had 2 hours to pick an outfit, do your makeup, and make it to the interview on time. 

Rummaging through your clothing, you begin throwing clothes into piles around you. Finding an outfit was proving to be difficult and your time was running out. 

Finally, you settled on wearing a short floral summer dress, it was a flush pink that made you feel cute. You weren’t fully comfortable wearing dresses casually, but this one was easy to wear and could easily match with a plain pair of sandals.

Running to the bathroom you check the time, 10:45 am, you were going to have to leave your hair natural. You quickly apply your makeup, opting for a more natural look since you were already running behind.��

Finally finished, you make your way through the room, grabbing your wallet, phone, and charger for your trip out. As you pass your room mirror your attention shifts towards your reflection and you pause, taking yourself in. 

You squint at the details of your face and body staring back at you. Admittedly, you looked cute, you wouldn’t deny that, but thinking of the other girls applying today you most likely were nothing special. Who knew what the other applicants looked like, either way, ugly or pretty, you were going to have to do more than look good to get noticed by BigHit. Shaking your head, you carry on, now was not the time to dwell deeply on these thoughts. 

As you leave the room, you close the door behind you, jogging lightly to the elevator down the hall. You hadn’t seen anything about transportation in the email, so you had assumed you were going to have to call a taxi to get to your appointment. 

Stepping into the elevator, you press the lobby button hurriedly. You tapped your foot with impatience as the machine glided down to your destination.

The elevator jerks to a stop and you hop out the elevator quickly. Checking your phone once again the time flashes on the screen, 11:45 a.m. Shit. 

Looking outside, you spot a couple of cars lined up in the front driveway of the hotel drop off area. Hoping for the best you, speed walk out of the building, heading straight towards the cars. As you approach them you wave to one of the cars hoping it is a taxi. 

The man in the front of the car gives you a slight nod and it’s all you need to wrangle the door open the moment your hand hits the handle. Jumping into the back you collect your purse near you and tell the driver the address.

“5 30-gil, Hakdong-ro, Floor Yangjin Plaza 5F, I’m heading to Bighit headquarters” you yelp out.

Though he says nothing, you assume he heard you as he begins driving wordlessly. The adrenaline is still coursing through you and you can feel your hands trembling slightly in your lap. 

Looking through your phone camera, you check your makeup and hair in hopes of distracting yourself from your nerves and making sure nothing was ruined in the rush. Taking a deep breath does nothing to stop the trembling of your hands.

You notice the city passing by and you stare in amazement. You had always dreamt of traveling to Korea and exploring its many cities, though you couldn’t do much exploring now. Maybe you could try checking out shops in the area after the interview, and if worse came to worst, and you weren’t chosen for the show, you could always travel through Korea with the time you had left here.

You feel the car come to a stop, the tall glass building in front of you indicating you had arrived. Quickly paying the driver, you make your way towards the leering building. 

After stepping through the sliding doors, you look around lost before making a beeline to the front desk. You were nervous, unsure of what to do now that you were here.

“Hello,” you start nervously, placing your warm hands on the desk, “I’m here for my interview at 12:30” One of the receptionists eyes you suspiciously and you begin to fidget nervously.

“Name?” she asks, turning back towards her computer.

“Um, (y/n) (l/n), it’s the interview for the BTS show” you answer.

She types in what you’re assuming is the information you just gave her, before printing a piece of paper and making her way around the desk separating the two of you.

“If you’d follow me please.” She hands you the paper, which you read has your name and interview details, and begins walking towards the elevators down the hall. Jogging lightly to keep up with the receptionist's long strides, you make sure to stay close behind her, not wanting to get lost.

By the time you reach the interview room (on the 3rd floor as you had made sure to remember), you are already sweating from the effort of trying to keep up with the receptionist. The woman had long legs.

“You can take a seat here until they call you in.” The receptionist points to a chair outside of the doorway.

You nod in acknowledgment and place yourself down into the chair, “Thank you.”

With a curt smile, she bows quickly and exits swiftly, most likely returning to the front desk you had first approached her at. 

As you sit and wait, curiosity gnaws its way into your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder who was in the room and what they were talking about.

Just as you begin moving your ear towards the said room, the door slams open, causing you to jump back in fear. People begin exiting the room and you try to straighten yourself as though you hadn’t almost just been caught eavesdropping.

Looking up, your breath stutters as you catch sight of the most gorgeous girl you have ever laid eyes on. She was tall and pale, her skin practically poreless. Despite her baggy sweater, you could make out her curves as she sashayed her way out of the room. Her hair was long and glossy, the black color complimenting her pale skin. You realize your staring and hurriedly turn away towards the nearby wall.

You can hear her laughing before she says something in Korean, something you can’t quite catch. But soon after a second voice is responding. A deep and very familiar voice. One you’re sure you’ve heard before. Swiveling your head back to the beautiful stranger your jaw drops at the scene before you.

Not only is this woman gorgeous, but she’s having a very amusing conversation with the seven other boys of Bangtan. A gasp escapes you involuntarily and you turn your head away once again, you didn’t want them to notice you.

Before you can delve further into the situation you had just witnessed, a woman calls your name from the room.

“(y/n) (l/n), if you could please enter, it’s time for your interview.”

The chair squeaks as you stand up and briskly make your way into the room.

There are 4 people inside seated at a long table. In front of the table is a single chair illuminated by a studio light. It reminded you of picture days back when you were younger. 

Each person at the table has papers in front of them in what you assume is a script of the questions as they wait for your arrival.

You gulp nervously before walking in the direction of the woman who had called your name. She leads you to the center chair before walking away, leaving you alone, and feeling vulnerable. 

You want to close your eyes and think, some time to calm your raging nerves. If you were going to get through this, you had to act confident, even if you didn’t feel it.

You straighten your posture, pushing your shoulders back, head up, and turn your eyes straight, looking directly at the group in front of you. You were going to get through this.

A cough escapes a man on the far right of the table, catching your attention. He looks to be around late-40’s maybe older, with salt and pepper hair and slight wrinkles around his eyes. He smiles as you face him.

“Hello (y/n), welcome to your interview for BTS Reality,” he starts with a warm tone, “I hope your stay has been comfortable so far. Now if we may, we’d like to start by asking you some questions.” 

You nod in response and make sure to smile. “Of course.” 

“Okay great!” He exclaims happily, “For starters, my name is Bang Si-Hyuk, next to me is Lenzo Yoon, Tae-Sung Jeong, and Kim U-taek.” Looking down the line, you give each man a nod and return your gaze to Bang Si-Hyuk. “So (y/n), tell me, do you have any hobbies?”

You still, surprised at the question. It was much simpler than what you had initially expected, putting you at slight ease. Quickly regaining your composure, you wring your hands together and let out a nervous giggle.

“Well,” you start, “I enjoy a bit of everything, I wouldn’t say there’s one particular thing that I have a strong passion for. It’s always been kind of an issue of mine, my inability to stick to one thing.” laughing at yourself, you begin speaking more comfortably, “But when I’m home I enjoy baking and cooking new foods, I also don’t mind trying to sew new things, though most of the time it doesn’t work out. At the end of the day, I’m just someone who tries everything and hopes to have fun doing it.” You finish your answer happily, momentarily forgetting the men sitting in front of you.

All the men seem slightly intrigued at your answer, the one on the far left, Kim U-taek, speaking next.

“You said you like adventure? Could you please elaborate for me (y/n).” Crossing your legs, you smooth your dress.

“Of course,” you respond lightly, “I will admit, I enjoy doing things that are out of my comfort zone. Things such as zip-lining and tubing are things I always love. But I can be hesitant at times before getting on scary roller coasters.” At this, you hear some of the men chuckle. Smiling yourself, you continue. “You could say I love a challenge, overcoming something I didn’t think I could, and something that many others couldn’t. It’s the competitive nature in me, I have to win.”

The four nod impressed, and scribble into their papers, you wanted desperately to know what they were writing. Did you do good?

Bang Si-Hyuk’s voice interrupts your mental questions suddenly with one of his own.

“What are your plans for the future?”

“Oh!” you exclaim happily. Your future is something you loved to think about often, so answering this question was no issue. “Right now I’m in my third year of university, but I hope to one day graduate medical school and become a pediatrician.”

The man in the middle of the table, who you think is Lenzo Yoon, interrupts you, “That’s refreshing to hear, most people so far have said they wanted to be singers or dancers, I was beginning to worry.” He finishes with a hearty laugh.

“I can imagine many people feel a sense of opportunity saying that here,” you respond politely. You couldn’t blame those who had tried putting their name out there, it was hard nowadays to make it big in the entertainment industry.

“Yes, well, please,” Lenzo Yoon waves his hand in a circular motion, “continue.”

“Well, I’ve always had a soft spot for children, often contemplating whether being a teacher or nanny would be better suited for me. I eventually settled on becoming a pediatrician because I felt in that position I can truly help children’s needs,” you answer. “I’ve often been referred to as the mother of the group since people have always thought I act mature for my age.”

“I see, so you’d say you act mature for your age? I see here it says you’re 21, much younger than all of the band members.” Bang Si-Hyuk states. It was true, the oldest being almost 10 years older than you.

“Yes, I’ve been told countless times I am very mature for my age.” you speedily affirm.

The men return to writing their findings onto paper while you sit and wait for them to finish. Once all men place their pens down, they stand obliging you to do the same. Walking over to you, Bang Si-Hyuk holds his arm out for you to shake.

“Thank you for today (y/n), we will make sure to get back to you by tomorrow with our results. Best of luck, I hope to see you again.” Firmly grasping, you excitedly shake his hand. You make sure to bow to him and the other three men once more before exiting the room.

On your way out, your mind wanders back to the encounter you had earlier with the girl and BTS. You weren’t necessarily jealous, but you felt, for lack of a better word, strange. Not because she had been talking to them, but because you knew they were here, yet they hadn’t made an appearance at your interview.

Instantly you scold yourself for even feeling bad over something like that as if they didn’t have other things to do besides listening to people answer questions about themselves. They were busy people, they probably had practice to go to and only had time for one interview today. You felt the guilt settling in as you entered the elevator to return to the first floor.

Exiting the elevator, you walk towards the entrance of the building, making sure to wave bye to the receptionist who had helped you earlier. The gust of fresh air is refreshing when you leave, it has the cooling effect you need after the stress you endured this morning. Although you wanted nothing more than to return to your hotel, snuggle up in your comfy bed and watch T.V., you were starving. 

You were going to have to grab some food to go before you could think about laying down and relaxing. You retrieve your phone from your purse and type in a search for food nearby. You felt like walking and getting some fresh air.

By the time you arrive at the restaurant, your stomach is rumbling, the interview and walk had taken a number on you. A bell rings above you, alerting the staff of your arrival.

“Hello!” a young voice greets you in Korean. “How can we help you?” A teenage girl, likely still in high school, stands before you.

“Hello,” you return the greeting in Korean, “I was hoping to order food to go.” She nods and hands you a menu to look over.

“Sure, here’s a menu, let me know when you’re ready to order.” You nod in response, already distracted by the food presented to you on the menu.

Once you’re ready you call over the girl and relay your order. After taking your order, she goes on serving other customers, leaving you alone.

As you stand and wait for your food, a familiar laugh catches your attention. It sounded exactly like the girl from the interview, though you weren’t completely sure. The laughter continues and your resolve of not going over and investigating slowly begins to crumble. Hesitantly, you make your way towards the source, leading you farther back into the restaurant.

You approach what seems to be a doorway leading deeper into the restaurant. Looking around you, you make sure no one notices what you’re doing. 

You had some time before your order was ready, and if anyone asked, you were looking for the bathroom.

Swiftly shoving yourself through the doorway, you’re met with the sight of two or three doors, all leading to rooms where you can see tables made for groups of people to eat at. You look over to your right, the only occupied room and practically jump back in shock. 

There, in all her glory, was the beautiful girl from earlier eating with none other than BTS.

[unending-happiness]

Hi, I've got a question out of nowhere! I was looking to re-read a story And When You Soar that was on my AO3 bookmark list and it's apparently not there anymore! I think it was your story? Can I ask what happened to it? If it's indeed the story I remember, I loved it!

Hi! Oh wow. It’s definitely my story! I’m smiling so big because you want to reread it. So…..as for what happened to it, I got a little overwhelmed with all my responsibilities in real life and how little time I had for writing. All my wips just felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders, because no matter how much I wanted to finish them I just didn’t think I’d ever have time. And I also felt so guilty about leaving them for so long without updates and letting readers down. So, I deleted all my wips from AO3 and vowed to only post them again when they were complete on my end (except for editing) and I could update them on a regular schedule. And When You Soar was supposed to be a relatively quick story, but then, as stories do, it took on a life of it’s own and there ended up being way more to it than I originally thought, so it got pulled too. 

I’m actually in the middle of writing a long one-shot right now that’s fairly close to being sent to my beta. I don’t know what’s wrong with my writing brain right now, but I get huge bursts of inspiration for something new, then it fades, and rinse and repeat. Super unhelpful. 

Now, the good news is, I’ve found myself at the very beginning of a period of being off work and quarantined at home because of this delightful pandemic we’re all experiencing, so I’m going to attack my wips with intensity and AWYS has a very good chance of getting finished soon and back up on ao3. Honestly, thank you so much for this ask because I wasn’t sure what wip from my list to work on after the one I’m finishing now, and you’ve made the decision easy for me. Thank you so much, lovely human! To hold you over until I post it again………

And When You Soar-Chapter 1

Alec ducked his head and stepped through the door and into the plane. He stopped when the elderly woman in front of him came to a standstill and looked around, transferring his suitcase to his other hand. He acknowledged the flight attendant standing to his left with his usual tight smile.

“Welcome aboard,” she greeted him, flashing him a bigger smile of her own.

“Thanks,” Alec answered her before his attention shifted to the open door just past her. A tall pilot standing just inside the flight cabin nodded at him and then turned his attention to who Alec assumed was his co-pilot. Always curious, Alec leaned to the side to see more of the other pilot, but his view into the small space was almost completely obstructed by the large man

“Sir,” the woman said to get his attention again.

He looked over at her and saw that she was motioning for him to move along into the cabin. He realized that the people in front of him had moved forward and he was holding up the line. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, as if talking at a normal volume would cause further disturbance.

She just smiled at him sweetly again, and then turned her attention to whoever was behind him. Alec shifted his suitcase so that he could fit down the aisle, and focussed on finding his seat without taking out the tiny woman in front of him. He located his row near the back of the plane and saw that his seatmates hadn’t yet boarded, so he quickly stowed his bag in the overhead compartment and sat down in the aisle seat. 

Normally, Alec loved being tall. He never needed a step stool, he had always been chosen first for basketball teams in high-school gym class, and he could see over everyone’s head in a crowd. It also made intimidating people fairly effortless, not that he would ever admit that out loud. Being tall was almost always a perk, but he found that flights were one of the few glaring exceptions. 

He always sprang for first class when he had to be on a plane for more than a few hours, but his sister’s last-minute plans had him booking the only available seat on the only available flight that would fit into his demanding schedule. He barely had time to get a workout in and grab a quick shower before his Uber pulled up. He was feeling very lucky that he at least got an aisle seat, and even so, there simply wasn’t going to be a position that would make his legs happy. It was going to be a long night and his only hope would be to fall asleep, which was unlikely, as he found it especially difficult to do in crowded places.

He grabbed his phone and earbuds out of his backpack and put it under the seat in front of him, barely leaving enough room to squeeze his black Nikes in there. When he glanced back up, he could see that there was a young man and woman waiting patiently for him to get up so they could take the seats next to him. He quickly stood and moved to the side. The man eyed him up and down suspiciously and then quickly changed positions with who Alec could only assume was his girlfriend so that he would be sitting next to Alec instead of her. Alec barely contained an eye roll. Heterosexuals. He gave them plenty of space while they got settled and then gingerly lowered himself back into his seat, already regretting going so hard in the gym that morning as his thighs still protested from yesterday’s workout. He would feel it doubly tomorrow. 

He went through the process of checking and returning messages on his phone. He handled a few work emails and then touched base with his family. He answered a text from Izzy.

 Did you make your flight?

Barely

That’s the spirit. See you soon. 😘

If by “soon” you mean in 9 hours, then yes, that.

Grouchy…..You got stuck in economy again didn’t you? Such a diva.

Next time you come up with some grand scheme, I’m going to need you to think of my legs.

Promise, but I’m sure you could use your powers of persuasion to get yourself into first class. 😎😍

You’re confusing me with you, again

Oh, Alec. Try not to have too much fun.😂 We’ll pick you up at the airport.

Hey, I know how to have fun.  

And by “we”, do you mean…..

Simon and I. I wouldn’t bring mom or dad. I’m not that mean.☹️

I have plenty of scars that suggest otherwise, but I’ll see you in 9 short hours.

Love you, big brother

Love you, too.

 The perky flight attendant had started her safety speech, which was thankfully straight to the point and not one of those lame ones trying to make everyone laugh. Alec fastened his seatbelt across his black joggers and logged into the airline’s Wi-Fi. He put his phone on airplane mode as soon as he was connected. He glanced over at his seatmates to see the man was huddled up next to his companion and they were chatting quietly and giggling. He didn’t think he had to worry about them trying to talk to him, but he stuck a wireless earbud in that ear anyway just to be sure. He scanned the rest of the passengers within view of him and tried to settle comfortably in his seat when he decided that everything was as it should be.

The pilot he had seen when he boarded the plane came out a few moments later and did the standard pre-flight announcement. Captain Garroway had a deep and booming voice, so Alec clearly heard the weather and their destination all the way from his seat in the back of the plane.

He busied himself with scrolling through his playlist to distract himself during take off. He wasn’t a nervous flyer, but the knowledge that nearly all plane crashes happened during ascent and descent kept him from really relaxing until they were fully up in the air. Being out of control in any situation went against every fiber of his being, and he just had to work through it. He spread his legs a little, pushing his knees all the way against the seatback in front of him, praying that the person wouldn’t want to recline their seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. 

The plane had just hit cruise height, the most nerve wracking part over, and he was listening to a conversation between a mother and child in front of him when his phone buzzed in his lap.

Alec swiped down his notifications and pulled his eyebrows together when he saw what app the push notification had come from. Of all times to get a message from someone on Grindr, this one had to be the weirdest. He hadn’t even had an account for twenty-four hours yet, only having downloaded it late the night before out of boredom. His sister had joked recently that he needed to “Meet someone on Grindr or something to let off some steam”, and despite everything in his being telling him he wouldn’t be happy with such a thing, he had done it anyway. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had listened to her, because he had no interest in hooking up with a random guy just because he was within so many feet of him. There was actually someone he had something really casual with, but it had been a while since he’d seen him. So, he could probably chalk this horrible lapse in decision making up to being frustrated and horny. Still, he had no intention of using the app, not really.

He thought about dismissing the message without reading it, almost laughing at the thought of having sex with some random stranger in the tiny plane bathroom, when it hit him that the message actually had to be from someone currently on the plane with him. That thought had him sitting up straighter and looking around him as inconspicuous as possible. He didn’t see anyone staring at him, but still, like the truly paranoid person he was, he turned down the brightness on his screen so the people around him would be less likely to see what he was doing. Hesitantly, he opened the message.

It was from someone called “CoyNotCryptic” and the icon wasn’t a person, but instead was an aerial photo of a city he didn’t recognize. Oh-kayyy, that wasn’t going to tell him anything. He looked around the cabin again and then read the message.

 I see you’re on my flight.  Enjoy the ride to Rome.

 Alec stared at the words in disbelief. What are the chances? He quickly tried to figure out who this mystery messenger could be. A fellow passenger? The app informed him that it was someone ninety feet away, which would have to be someone toward the front of the plane. A passenger in first class maybe? Alec looked up at the flight attendants suspiciously. Both were women and he didn’t see a third, but that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t another one there. First class sometimes had their own attendant. Thoroughly flustered, he turned off his screen and laid it face down in his lap again, still eyeing the people around him and the front of the cabin.

He made it an impressive five minutes before he unlocked his phone and pulled up the message thread. He clicked on the mystery person’s profile. 

All he learned from that was that the guy was 3O ish years old, 5’11”, 175lbs, Bi, and Single. Seemed intriguing enough, but a picture definitely would have been extremely helpful. Fucking Grindr. This was why he didn’t want to mess with it in the first place. He wasn’t going to answer it. Absolutely not. What would he even say? What if the person was a total creep and it was a disaster for the entire eight-hour flight?

Just a few minutes later, bored and antsy, he decided that it was going to bother him if he didn’t at least find out who it was. Oh, what the hell , he thought, and typed out a message.

 The chances of this happening have to be a million to one, right?

 He tapped his foot nervously while he waited the fifteen seconds for an answer to come.

 I’m not privy to the exact statistics, but it doesn’t happen very often, in my professional experience. Does this mean you’re one in a million?

 Alec swallowed a laugh. The wording of the message made him feel more like it was someone working on the flight. That was probably less risky than a random passenger. More than a little intrigued, he typed a reply.

 By that logic, you would be one in a million, also. 

Oh, I definitely am.

How self-aware of you.

Self-aware and humble.

And….working right now??

Yes, although it doesn’t feel like work at the moment.

Because I’m distracting you?

Don’t get ahead of yourself.  It could be the 40-ton jet I’m flying. -MB

 Alec nearly dropped his damn phone and he was ninety percent sure he said, “No way,” out loud instead of in his head. The pilot!! The pilot was messaging him on Grindr. What the actual hell had Izzy gotten him into?! He had the passing thought that maybe it was somebody else on the plane fucking with him, and he looked around for about the tenth time. And MB? Most definitely not the initials of Garroway, the pilot he saw before. Must’ve been the pilot he hadn’t been able to get a good look at when he boarded.

He didn’t have time to go too far down that rabbit hole of thought, because just then a voice filled the cabin. This one was very different than Captain Garroway’s and it got Alec’s full attention, to say the least.

“Good evening, lovely passengers, this is Captain Bane speaking.”

This voice sent a shiver down his spine and made every nerve ending wake up and take notice. It was a voice of pure silk that made Alec think of skin on skin, of dark passionate nights, of hushed whispers between sloppy kisses.

He was absolutely reeling at the realization that “MB” from Grindr was also Captain Bane, the pilot of this airplane, a man whose voice alone stimulated every cell in Alec’s body. He was thoroughly fucked for the duration of this flight and he couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad about it.

“We are now cruising along at an altitude of 30,000 feet. You may use any larger electronic devices you have at this time, on airplane mode, of course. I’m very good at what I do, but I’d prefer a smooth and easy ride tonight.”

Alec pursed his lips to contain his disbelieving laugh, his eyes wide.

“Please also feel free to take your seatbelt off if you need to move around the cabin, but be sure to put it back on anytime you’re in your seat. This is just a precaution in case of unexpected turbulence, or in the event I jerk my stick a little too hard.”

The passengers around him chuckled at the joke, but Alec thought that there was no possible way in hell any of them could be as affected by those words as he was. This was an unbelievable turn of events.

“My darling flight attendants will be doing drink service soon, and I’d like to ask you to be patient and enjoy whatever quenches your thirst. Please exercise self-control, though, as this is a long flight for all of us. Also, just a reminder that any long arms or long legs that are taking up aisle space, are most definitely at risk of being taken out by Clary and her cart, and need to be tucked safely in your seat. Thank you very much and enjoy the ride to Rome.”

This man. Holy. Fucking. Shit. He needed a drink from Clary and her cart ASAP.

He stared at his phone and that last message. It was clearly his move now, and considering how buzzed he was from the announcements alone, he wanted to make it a good one. He decided he very much wanted to play this game.

 Aren’t there rules about texting and flying? 

You are in very capable hands. I wasn’t joking when I said I’m good at what I do.

In all seriousness though, my co-pilot is doing all the heavy lifting at the moment, but if this makes you nervous, I’ll stop. I like to keep my customers happy.

Don’t stop.

I’m not worried.

Good. Tell me something?

Ask away.

What takes you to Rome?

My little sister’s impromptu wedding.

Scandalous. Have you met her other half?

Oh, yeah. They’ve been together for a while. The engagement isn’t that surprising, and, really, the quick wedding isn’t either if you know my family. She’s avoiding a lot of drama. I can’t really blame her.

Ah, family drama, ever delightful.

Unfortunately there’s no shortage of it with mine. 

How long are you staying in Rome for the wedding? 

Just a few days. 

It’s an absolutely beautiful city. I can make some recommendations if you’d like……

That would be great.

 Perky red rolled up to him with her cart, pulling his focus away from the conversation. He reluctantly placed the phone face down on his tray and tried to not look impatient as he got his wallet with his card out of his bag. She asked the couple next to him what they wanted, and Alec dutifully passed a soda and a red wine over. She ignored his debit card and poured a whiskey on the rocks, probably the most expensive they had on board, and handed it over to him. His confusion must have shown on his face because she winked at him and pointed to the front of the plane. It took a couple seconds for him to get it and then he glanced to his side to be sure the people next to him weren’t paying attention.

“Oh, uh, thanks,“ he whispered, and immediately felt like a moron.

“No problem. If you need anything else at all, just let me know. I’ll be back around for meal orders in just a little bit.”

Alec took a big sip of his drink. It was easily twice the size of the drinks you normally received on a plane and he felt a little guilty that he hadn’t even paid for it. He resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone had noticed his special treatment.

He checked his phone as soon as he felt relaxed from the warmth that had burned its way down his chest. There were no new messages, but he decided that sending him a drink was a pretty loud and clear message of its own and he started typing.

 So, now you are flying a plane, texting, AND buying me a drink?! Show off.

Is that a thank you?

Of course. How did you even know where I was sitting?

Well, you see, there are these things called ‘Flight Manifests’ and pilots receive one for every flight.  Although I must admit I’ve never found one quite as useful as I do now. 

By the way, who uses their real name for a Grindr profile??

People who want their pilots to send them free booze.

Ah. Well, your grand scheme is working out quite nicely then, I’d say.

Seriously though, thank you for the drink. 

You’re most welcome, Alexander. (So useful, that manifest)

Nobody calls me that except for my mother when she’s angry with me. 

Would you rather I not?

No….you can. 

Good, because I’m fond of it. 

Speaking of things I’m fond of, Clary tells me that your "longest legs ever” have no business at all being in coach.

Ah, well, you can blame my sister and her last minute plans for that. 

Wait, do you have everyone spying on me?!

Not everyone, just Clary, I suppose. Though, to be fair, she mentioned your legs before I had her bring you a drink.  Seems “tall, dark, and handsome” appeals to all genders.

I’m going to need more alcohol if you’re going to keep saying things like that. 

I’ll let Clary know the gorgeous man with mile long legs in C36 needs another drink soon.

I’m actually blushing.

I’d give my Louis luggage to see that for myself. 

I don’t do selfies.

Really? Not even for the man who tried to get you a seat in First class? 

It was all booked. I checked. 

Yes, it is. But I tried to offer someone top shelf alcohol for the duration of the flight to switch with you. 

YOU DIDN’T. Please tell me you didn’t. 

Doesn’t matter. It didn’t work anyway. Please pass my apologies onto your legs. 

No.

No?

No. If you have a message for my legs, you’ll have to deliver it yourself. 

Do you really think it’s wise to cause a rise in the heart rate of the pilot who is flying your plane?

My bad. Pass my apologies onto your heart?

If I have to deliver messages in person, then you do as well. 

Can you put the pedal to the floor? Get us on the ground any faster?

Do you know anything at all about airplanes?

No, but you could teach me.

With pleasure. 

Lkkdfskhdkhsdfkhd.

 Did he really send a keysmash? He did. He did that, as eloquent as ever. Slightly mortified, he waited to be teased for it. When no message came through, he checked his Wi-Fi connection, then his watch, and finally scrolled through his playlist and chose some music, trying to busy himself with something other than shamelessly flirting with the man currently keeping them alive way above the surface of the earth. He was probably very busy at the moment and Alec had to get a grip, especially since they were only an hour and a half into the flight. 

By the time the dinner cart went through an hour later, Alec had returned a few more emails, done his budget for the month, organized all the photos in his gallery, and archived all the files on his phone that he didn’t need anymore. He also might have checked Grindr for new messages about twenty times, so he was more than a little ready for that second drink. 

This time the other attendant came through, the one with the darker skin and curly hair. She was just as helpful and nice as Clary, but much less hyper, and Alec found that she had a way about her that he liked. With a knowing smile she served him up the same drink as before. She didn’t even try to tell him where it came from, which he appreciated, because at this point he was more than a little self conscious that the entire staff seemed to know the pilot was sending him things. 

She took his dinner order and returned twenty minutes later with what could only amount to two standard airline meals and yet another glass of amber liquid. This one was smaller and accompanied by a bottle of water. He didn’t miss how she took his credit card and made herself look busy, before handing it back without actually swiping it. He gave her a genuine smile, very much appreciating her discretion and she patted his shoulder as she went by. 

He usually didn’t like to be touched by people, let alone strangers, reserving his physical affection for his family alone. Maybe it was the alcohol warming his veins or the fact that he was currently being lavished with gifts, but he found that the small touch made him happy.

Eventually, he was relaxed enough that he felt like he may actually be able to sleep, but he still declined a pillow and blanket when they came through passing them out to everyone. There was no way he was going to be able to get that comfortable around this many strangers. He made a quick trip to the restroom and stopped in the aisle to stretch his legs and torso as much as he could in the tight space, before regrettably sliding back into his seat. He knocked back the last bit of his drink and followed it with the water, before sliding his tray back up and settling in. His phone buzzed on his leg.

 How was dinner?

Pretty good, actually. I think I owe you a few hundred dollars at this point.

Nonsense, it was my pleasure.  

Thank you. 

Is it sad that this is probably better than any date I’ve ever had? 

That’s only because you haven’t been on a proper date with me ; )

Or because I’m bad at the whole dating thing. (Did you just winky face me?)

I think, given the right company, you’d do better than you think. (Yes, yes I did.)

Hah. A high compliment.

How about this for a compliment…….You really need to warn my staff before you go stretching in the aisle, again. Nobody benefits from a passed out crew.

Who told you about that?

Oh, just a little conversation between Clary and Maia.

Ugh. 

I like Maia. 

AND DON’T YOU HAVE A PLANE TO FLY?!

Shhhhhhhhh. I’m a professional, remember?

And I figured you would. She likes you, too.

Nobody likes me.

That’s very much not true. I happen to have it on good authority that just a small little sliver of your stomach can cause an impressive stir.

Please stop.

Are you blushing again?

I’m not sending you a selfie.

What if I pout?

Don’t do that. I’ll be forced to take one and then I’ll die of embarrassment. Nobody needs that. 

*Sighs* I rather like you living, so I’ll give you a pass this time.

So generous.

You have no idea how generous I can be.

You can’t just keep saying things like that to me.

Why not? I’m just trying to give you “sweet dreams” material.

That might be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.

Did it make you smile?

Maybe……

Yes.

Good. Regrettably, I have to go do the heavy lifting now. I’ll leave you to sleep.

Sleep. Sure. Easy. No problem.

Goodnight, Alexander.

 Surprisingly, sleep came easier than he ever could have imagined it would, given the situation, which made him thankful for the food, booze, and the exhaustion that came with being up for almost twenty-four hours straight. He drifted off replaying the messages from Captain Bane in his head over and over and a relaxed smile on his face.

Alec woke with a start when the man in his row slid their window shade all the way up. He squinted against the bright sun, a clear indication that he slept longer than just a few hours. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to blink the sleep from them. When he looked around he saw that a few people were still sleeping, but most were awake and talking quietly, with various drinks and snacks. It seemed he had slept through the beverage cart and probably some announcements, and he imagined that they had to be pretty close to landing in Rome.

He hit his knee on something and looked down to see that someone had lowered his tray and placed a lidded cup of coffee, a bottle of water and a blueberry muffin on it. That’s when it all came back to him. He scrambled around in his lap to find his phone, dropping it on the floor in his haste. He leaned down in the tight space to get it and hit his head on the seatback in front of him. “Shit!” 

He glanced at his seatmates and said a quick, “Sorry,” for cursing and causing a ruckus, but didn’t pay attention to them long enough to see their reactions. He had much better things to do.

He managed to fish his phone off the floor and quickly straightened, sliding down his notifications with impressive speed and selecting the one he wanted.

 Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.  If you need anything else, let me know.

Alec grinned and took a big gulp of his coffee before replying. He needed to wake up fast.

You are a gift, you know that?

Does that mean you’re going to eagerly unwrap me?

It’s too early for sentences like that.

It’s never too early for sentences like that.

How long until we land?

An hour and seventeen minutes.

Aren’t you getting tired?

I’m used to it, darling. Don’t worry about me.

 Darling. He actively tried to keep a stupid smile from taking over his face. An hour. An hour until he exited this plane…..through the front of the plane. The front of the plane where this man currently was. Fuck. He needed a lot more coffee, a toothbrush, and a mirror STAT. He looked down at his crumpled t-shirt and jogging pants and swore under his breath. Truthfully, Alec wasn’t even sure he would be seeing him in person when they landed. He hadn’t seen him when they boarded, and so maybe it would be a repeat of that. That thought was too disappointing for him though, so he pushed it away and set about righting himself, just in case.

He drank his coffee down as quickly as he could without burning his mouth. Then he wrapped his muffin up in the package and put it in his backpack, knowing there was no way his nervous early morning stomach would tolerate it. He grabbed his toiletry bag and rushed to the bathroom before the imminent announcement that they had to stay in their seats.

Once he was folded in the cramped space, he brushed his teeth and thanked God for his recent haircut in preparation for the wedding. He spent a few minutes mussing his hair up with his fingers and a bit of water before deciding it was about as good as it was going to get. He ran his hand over his face and decided the scruff there wasn’t too bad, not bad enough to shave in an airplane bathroom, at least.

He started to stretch and then abruptly stopped, self-conscious that people would notice and he’d be the subject of mile-high gossip once again. He returned to his seat feeling a bit more human and a lot more nervous.

Clary came walking down the aisle with purpose, smiled way too brightly at him for 7 a.m. and handed him a folded up slip of paper. He hesitantly took it with a polite, “Thanks,” and immediately opened it and read the elegant script.

Meet me up front, if you want , after everyone else has deplaned. 

~M.

If you want. He wasn’t sure he had ever wanted anything so much in his life.

Captain Garroway came over the intercom to let them know they were beginning their descent and Alec didn’t comprehend any of it. He put his seatbelt on when others around him did and  tried to stop bouncing his leg nervously. Maybe he had a little too much coffee.

Ten minutes later they landed in Rome without incident, and Alec unbuckled his seatbelt and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Why the hell was he so nervous? He watched as the other passengers gathered their belongings and exited at an agonizingly slow pace. Twice he got up and helped someone get a bag out of the compartment to hurry the process along. He tried really fucking hard to not compare the man across from him to a sloth, like a total asshole. Finally, when it got to his row he stood up and let the man and woman go by him. 

Once they had their stuff gathered, the woman unexpectedly turned to Alec and said, “I just have to know, are you some kind of celebrity or something?” 

Alec balked.

The man with her looked shocked as he nudged her. “Jules!”

She shrugged. “What? It’s kind of obvious.” She turned back to Alec. “Which movies are you in?”

Alec huffed out a laugh, “What? No…” 

He was relieved when her boyfriend tugged her along even if he was kind of amused at the last disbelieving look she shot him.

The last few rows went by without any more accusations of stardom, which Alec was very grateful for, and then Clary passed by him last, with a wink and a little wave. He groaned out loud and didn’t even feel bad for it. 

There was movement at the front of the plane from the crew and he forced himself to not focus on any of it, but instead he pulled his suitcase out of the overhead bin and threw his backpack over his shoulder. He started walking.

It all became too real when he saw Clary and Maia exit the plane behind the passengers. That wasn’t normal, was it? That definitely wasn’t normal. Jesus Christ, his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He got to first class and the other pilot, Garroway, was standing there in front of the cockpit door, his bag in hand. He shot Alec a smug, crooked smile and left the plane without a word. 

And then there he stood.

There he stood looking way more beautiful than anyone who had been working all night had any right to. His eyes were bright and kohl-rimmed, his features strong and beautiful even as he nervously rubbed the fingers of his left hand together. He really was a kind of perfect that Alec hadn’t even realized existed. He wanted to devour him.

Alec watched, a little stunned, as he stepped forward. Then, he tilted his head up in a challenge and parted his lips, and that was all it took. 

Alec abandoned his luggage right there in the aisle and went to him. He reached out with both hands, pressing one hand to his hip and grabbing his shirt with the other, pulling him into him. He kissed him hard, already drowning in the scent of him, the feel of him. 

They started stumbling backward, and Alec realized that he was throwing his weight around too much, but fucking hell, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even think as he pressed their lips together over and over. He wanted it hard and fast, soft and slow, any and every way he could have him.

They stumbled through the door and into the back of the captain’s chair with an “oomph” and Alec opened his eyes briefly to drink him in.

 “Alec,” he said, his breath hot on Alec’s lips, eyes still closed.

“Magnus,” Alec said, stepping into him even more, closing the tiniest bit of space that was left between them. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Magnus opened his eyes and smiled at him. “Yes, I can feel that,” he said, rolling his hips against Alec’s.

“You haven’t felt anything yet,” Alec said, his voice gruff.

Magnus slid a hand between them, “Oh, this isn’t just anything,” he said, rubbing fingers down Alec’s length through his pants. He curled them under the waistband and tugged, causing Alec to go from half-hard to fully erect in no time flat. “I like these pants…….a lot.”

Alec rubbed circles on Magnus’ ribcage with his thumb to distract himself so he could manage to speak a coherent sentence. “They’re perfect for long flights.”

He nearly whimpered when Magnus retracted his hand, but somehow still managed to narrow his eyes at him. “Speaking of long flights,” he said, “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

Magnus smiled at him. “Oh, really? Whatever did I do?”

At that moment he realized how much he had missed that. His smile, his cunning wit, the elegance with which he spoke, his humor. All of it. He had missed all of Magnus. Desperately. He couldn’t believe he even considered the notion that anyone he met on a hookup app would be enough.

He stepped back a little bit, trying to be serious, but he didn’t remove his hands from Magnus’ waist, because he wasn’t planning on going far, maybe ever. “Well, you were in the city where I live and you didn’t even call me,” he accused, trying not to sound too desperate and probably failing miserably.

Magnus’ eyes twinkled with mischief, which should have prepared Alec for what came next, but before he knew it Magnus had changed their positions, and Alec was being pushed back against the chair, with Magnus pressing up against him, chest to hip. He leaned in and whispered in Alec’s ear, “Mmmmmm, well, if you needed me to dick you down, all you had to do was say something.” He nibbled gently at his earlobe and Alec almost forgot how to move air.

Fucking hell, if that didn’t make him damn near want to beg. “This is me saying something.”

Magnus kissed his neck ever so lightly, which sent shivers all the way down his body. “Hmmmm, what exactly are you saying, darling?”

“Magnus,” he said, exasperated and damn near floating with desire. Or lack of oxygen. Probably both.

“Alexander,” he practically purred back.

That was the first time Alec had ever heard him say his full name and he hoped it wasn’t even close to the last time. He actually fucking whimpered, and that was when he decided this wasn’t the time to be stubborn. “I need you to dick me down,” he admitted, snaking a hand up and grabbing Magnus’ hair. He pulled his head back and away from his neck to get back some control, instead kissing him deeply, sliding his tongue into his mouth and languidly tasting him. 

Magnus moaned into his mouth and returned the kiss with equal intensity, before pulling away to answer him, grinding their hips together once more for good measure.

“With pleasure, if you promise to put that beautiful mouth of yours to good use.”

Alec’s whole body was singing at that promise. “Deal.” He looked around, thinking of logistics for all the things they were about to do, and then he was snapped back into the reality of exactly where they were.

“You’re a pilot,” he said, matter of fact, even if a little breathless.

“I am.” Magnus smiled. “Are you impressed?”

“Very, but what else is new?” Alec answered.

Magnus laughed, “I have to admit this is turning out most favorable for me as well.”

Alec looked around, “How long before you have to fly out again?” 

Magnus said, “A couple of days…ish.”

“Ish?” Alec asked.

“That’s what I said.”

“Can you come to my hotel later?” Alec asked.

Magnus bit his bottom lip, then grinned. “You aren’t even a little tempted to do it right here, Alec? It is a Cock-pit, after all. It’s right there in the name,” he whispered.

Alec smiled, “Wow.” Honestly, fuck him for being so sexy while delivering such outrageous lines.

Magnus laughed deeply, and Alec ran a large hand down his chest and pulled his shirt down to kiss what he could of his collar bone. “Believe me, I’m very, very tempted, but I want to get you completely naked, lay you out on a bed, and take my time with you. I’ve had enough of cramped spaces for a while.”

“How could I possibly argue with that logic?” Magnus asked.

“You can’t,” Alec said.

“Text me your hotel information and give me a couple of hours?” Magnus asked.

The “couple of hours” part had him rethinking the whole “fucking in the cockpit of this plane” business, but he pushed away from Magnus with Herculean effort and placed one last and lingering kiss to his lips. 

Alec forced himself to go back into the plane to collect his belongings, feeling Magnus’ eyes on him the whole way. When he passed by him again, Magnus was leaning against the door, a knowing smirk on his face. 

Alec gestured to Magnus’ uniform. “Are you going to be wearing this when you stop by?” He couldn’t resist asking.

Magnus’ eyes crinkled with his smile. “Ooh, does someone have a kink?” 

“Says the man who’s obsessed with my legs,” he countered, grinning back.

Magnus laughed, and Alec thought that it might very well be the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. “Get out of my airplane, Alexander.”

[jeonsduck]

Smoke and Mirrors pt 4

WARNINGS: gore, graphic imagery. 

a/n: im so sorry

Since getting permission from your new supervisor to work in San’s office, you’d fallen into a bit of a routine. You woke up, got ready, fed Noodles, and San picked you up from your building because it was on his way to work. On some mornings he’d come upstairs instead of calling yo he got there, bearing gifts of a breakfast sandwich (for you) and canned tuna (for Noodles). By now, your elder landlady recognized San and he blew her a kiss when he picked you up in the mornings. 

 When you arrived at the office, you’d hole yourself up in the file room until lunch. Keran or San would occasionally come by to check on you and bring you a little styrofoam cup off coffee and remind you to take a break. Sometimes Byul would break in and walk all over your papers and laptop keyboard until you scratched her behind her ears. 

At 11:45, San would slip a leash on Byul and the three of you would go on a walk to pick up lunch for the whole office. You all ate in the front room, Keran and the bodyguards included. This was of course, if San didn’t have a lunch meeting, which you were learning were reserved only for his most important clients (read: Hongjoong and company). You caught glimpses of them when they came to see San, but you had yet to be introduced to any of them. You were thankful for that because just from what you’d heard about them from Agent Heejin they were men to be feared and taken very seriously.

After lunch it was back to the dungeon to try and make sense of what the hell San’s friends were doing with their money. 

If he wasn’t too busy in the afternoons he might pop in and help explain something to you. As the person who oversaw all these transactions, he was your best bet at explaining some of their more convoluted financial practices. Like Jongho claiming farm exemptions on his martial arts school. Except it WAS a farm, and a school, and apparently Jongho was very dedicated to the fact that his students live seperated from society to focus on their sport or something like that. Either way it was a really complicated way of saying, yes, his 35 acres are eligible for educational and agricultural exemptions. There were at least 5 cases like this for each of them, and your head was pounding from the explanations. The information dump you were going through on this case was worse than college. 

San drove you home after he locked up for the night, or if he was staying late, he’d send you home in a car with the guards. After you’d started at ledgers until your eyes burned, you had to go talk to Agent Heejin. Sometimes she called you, other times she visited your apartment. You’d talk for as long as she deemed necessary, sometimes for upwards of two hours. Occasionally, you had something suspicious to report, but it was a rare occurrence. Usually you ended up chasing the same half a million dollars around in circles for the whole day across different accounts until there was no where else for you to follow it. It was exhausting. And so far, there was nothing groundbreaking to report, which meant you just got to spend a couple extra hours being grilled every night. 

Fun daily routine, right? Not in the slightest. 

Well, that wasn’t completely true. It was a little fun. Especially when you saw San dressed like a trainwreck with his glasses off, frowning down at a stack of papers. Or when you caught him looking at you from the doorway with a pencil held behind his ear. Or when he rolled his shirt sleeves up so he could go get you a document you couldn’t find. Or when he smiled at you in the cutest way, or well, any time San was being cute. Was that kinda super unprofessional? Yeah, but you’d be done with this case eventually and maybe after that something could happen? It wasn’t as though it was completely one sided. Someone didn’t just start picking you up and taking you to work just because you lived in the same direction. And you’d heard the guards gossiping around the water cooler about how they could never convince their boss to let them choose what to eat for lunch, but he always asked you before making a decision nowadays. And then there was that time you‘d turned your head too fast when he was leaning over your shoulder, and you’d both been trapped in that moment with your noses nearly touching for way too long. San had finally blinked and cleared his throat and you’d both awkwardly avoided each other’s eyes for the next hour.

Your mildly flirty and mostly boring routine was broken when your new supervisor asked you to come in for a status report. San dropped you back off at your office, and told you to call him once you were done so he could send a car to take you home, since you’d left yours at your apartment. You went back up to your floor for the first time in weeks, and made an hour long presentation on your progress with this case (which was miniscule to say the least). Your boss thanked you for the update, told you you were doing a good job, and let you know he’d be sending the notes you presented to the administration. 

After you left his office, you stopped by your cubicle to tidy something’s up, grab some extra supplies you needed,

“Y/N! How’s it going?” Jacob said, catching you on your way out.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him, and you gave him a hug. You had missed your cubicle neighbor. 

“Slowly. I don’t know if I’ll ever be done with this case.” you sighed.

Jacob chuckled and patted you on the back.

“You got some time? We could grab dinner, maybe a couple drinks?” he offered.

You checked your phone for messages from San, only to find that it was dead. Ah, might as well.

“Yeah I could do dinner. You had somewhere in mind?”

Dinner with Jacob was…. Nice. You didn’t realize until halfway through the meal that maybe Jacob thought this was a date. But you still weren’t sure. You were sure that Jacob was more than a little nervous, stuttering over a lot of his sentences and fidgeting. But he wasn’t overbearing or making you uncomfortable. He was nice. Jacob was nice.

He drove you home after the meal, walking you to the front door of your building. You told him you had a nice time. He smiled at you and said the same. Then he awkwardly scooted back into his car and drove away.

You headed up to your apartment, putting your phone on charge the second you got in. You fed Noodles, got ready for bed, and put on some TV to watch before you went to bed. When your phone turned on it started buzzing wildly, startling Noodles.

“Who was calling me like that?” you wondered out loud.

Flipping your phone back over, you saw you had 50 text messages, 34 missed calls, and multiple voicemails. All from San. Begining from the time you were supposed to call him, the messages increased in frequency and worry even through your dinner with Jacob. Your phone buzzed to life again suddenly, San’s name and picture flashing on your screen.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Oh, my god Y/N! I thought you were dead in an alley somewhere or something! You were supposed to call me when you finished at the IRS. ” San said, sounding relieved.

“Oh gosh, I didn’t mean to worry you. My phone died and then I went to dinner with my work friend Jacob. Besides, I told you, I could Uber home or something.” you said.

“Yeah, but you would have at least answered my call from an Uber. I didn’t know what had happened to you.” he huffed.

“Well, I’m fine and I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow to make up for it.” you offered.

“Fine. But letting your phone die can be dangerous. What if something happens and you can’t call me?” he says.

“Shouldn’t I be calling the police if I’m in danger?” you counter with a chuckle, but San is serious.

“No, you should call me. So, promise me you won’t let your phone die, and you’ll answer me when I call.” he says.

You sigh and agree.

“Fine, I’ll watch my phone battery and I will always pick up if you call. Are we cool now?” you ask.

San chuckles, “We are, but you still owe me lunch tomorrow.” he says.

“Of course. Good night San.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You shake your head and look at Noodles.

“He’s such a character isn’t he?” you ask him, and Noodles just meows in response. 

You chuckle and turn the TV off, falling asleep.

The next day it’s back to the same grind. It’s like that for most of the week. On Thursday you get an email from your supervisor, asking if you know where Jacob’s gone. You reply that you don’t know, but you’ll reach out to him. When you call him after lunch, Jacob’s phone goes straight to voicemail. Weird, but you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, so you’re not really worried about it.

You see Jacob again on Saturday, but not in the way you were expecting, or ever wanted to see him. You got a call from the police station early that morning, asking you to come in about something. You thought it had something to do with San or the case you were working with the IRS. You never thought that they’d be calling you down to help identify Jacob’s waterlogged corpse. 

It wasn’t a pretty sight. Whoever had done this, had been angry and well versed in the art of murder. His right hand was broken, shattered more like. So were both of his legs, one at the femur, one at the shin. He’d been garroted, a sharp wire choking him and cutting into his neck until he either asphyxiated or bled to death, whichever came first. That the coroner wasn’t quite sure of. What they were sure of, was that Jacob’s body had been beaten and mutilated before he’d been killed. His heart had been carved out of his chest cavity after the fact though. They’d found the charred remains in his car, which had been pushed deep into the woods and set on fire. Jacob’s body had been found in a lake not far from there, only because the killer had messed up when puncturing his lungs to prevent his body from floating. 

You didn’t process this all at once though. You’d walked into the morgue, noted the awful smell, and the coroner had asked you to peel back the white sheet. You had, and nearly fell over in shock. That was your friend on the table. You stumbled back a couple steps, your ears ringing. You faintly heard the officer who had walked you here asking if that was Jacob on the table, and you nodded absently. You’d been handed a file on Jacob’s autopsy and then ushered out of the room by the officer who brought you there. You stumbled along like you were in a dream, not realizing that the cop was leading you to an interrogation room.

“We have reason to believe you were the last person to see Jacob alive, so we have a few questions for you…”

You sat there, shell shocked and more than a little traumatized, while the police questioned you for hours about the last time you saw Jacob. Nervous, but happy. A little excited, like an overgrown puppy. Different officers came to ask you the same questions, and you knew what they were doing. Trying to get you to crack, to admit something that didn’t happen, to find some flaw in your relationship, and easy out, a motive. But after you’d sobbed for three hours, you were too tired to even keep crying, and eventually they released you, emotionally numb and exhausted. 

The sun was still shining outside the precinct, like the day had the right to be happy. You looked at your car, unwilling to drive, and on impulse, you called San.

Y/N?”

“Yeah, San can you come pick me up? I’m at the police station, I don’t think I should drive.” you said.

“What? Why are you at the police station? I’ll be there soon just hold on.” he said.

“Okay.” you sighed and hung up. You sat down on a bench outside, and after a few minutes, it began to sun shower. You snorted, but just sat there, getting soaked as other people ran around you for cover. You only realized San had pulled up when the rain stopped and you heard him fussing over you.

“You’re gonna catch a cold, sitting out in the rain like this. Come get in the car.”

You let San basically manhandle you into his car, realizing that you were about to get in his expensive Italian sports car sopping wet.

“Sorry, send me you upholstery bill.”

“One, no. Two, you can’t afford it. Three, the leather was getting kinda worn anyway. Do you want to tell me why you were at the police station?” he prompted.

You just shook your head, gazing out the window.

“Later. Just take me home please.”

You zone out as San drives, watching raindrops slide down the car window.

“Y/N, we’re here.” San said, snapping you out of a daze.

“Will you come up with me? I don’t want to be alone right now.” you ask.

“Of course.”

San parks his car in your spot, and follows you up to your apartment. Noodles comes trotting out when you open the door, avoiding you when he sees that you’re wet and rubbing uo against San instead.

“Go take a shower, put on some dry clothes. Should I order food?” San asks, scooping Noodles up in his arms.

You don’t want to eat, but you say yes anyway. You leave San to his own devices in the living room and go to take a shower. Maybe you’re crying again, but there’s no way to be sure. You end up standing under the hot water for nearly an hour. When the food he ordered arrives, San knocks on your bathroom door, letting you know that you should get out and eat while the food is hot. 

You towel off and get dressed in pajamas, trudging back out to the kitchen, San is sitting at your island with a large pizza in front of him. You sit down next to him and take a slice, chewing slowly. It’s good pizza. You say as much. When you finish, San puts away the box and stands infront of you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Do you want to keep processing, or do you want me to distract you?” he asks, looking into your eyes.

You answer without even thinking, wanting to stop feeling so awful.

“Distract me, please.”

San smiles sadly, bringing your faces together and connecting your lips gently. You’re trembling a little, and San feels solid and real pressed against you. 

“I’m sorry.” he says.

“It’s not your fault.” you mumble.

San doesn’t reply, just kisses you again, and again, and again.

[like-i-need-a-hole-in-my-head]

Psychopolitics and Surveillance Capitalism

I queued this post quite a while ago and it posted last night while I was asleep. I’m reposting because I’ve been thinking about this a bit more since I first saw it. I’ve shortened the original quote here:

[H]ealing ... refers to self-optimization that is supposed to therapeutically eliminate any and all functional weakness or mental obstacle in the name of efficiency and performance. Yet perpetual self-optimization ... amounts to total self-exploitation. [...] The neoliberal subject is running aground on the imperative of self optimization, that is, on the compulsion always to achieve more and more. Healing, it turns out, means killing.

and had a look at this review. From the review: “[W]hat capitalism realised in the neoliberal era, Han argues, is that it didn’t need to be tough, but seductive. This is what he calls smartpolitics. Instead of saying no, it says yes: instead of denying us with commandments, discipline and shortages, it seems to allow us to buy what we want when we want, become what we want and realise our dream of freedom. “Instead of forbidding and depriving it works through pleasing and fulfilling. Instead of making people compliant, it seeks to make them dependent.” 

I’m adding a break because this got long.

(review, cont’d)

And, while not Orwellian, we net-worked moderns have our own Newspeak. Freedom, for instance, means coercion. Microsoft’s early ad slogan was “Where do you want to go today?”, evoking a world of boundless possibility. That boundlessness was a lie, Han argues: “Today, unbounded freedom and communication are switching over into total control and surveillance … We had just freed ourselves from the disciplinary panopticon – then threw ourselves into a new and even more efficient panopticon.” And one, it might be added, that needs no watchman, since even the diabolical geniuses of neoliberalism – Mark Zuckerberg and Jeff Bezos – don’t have to play Big Brother. They are diabolical precisely because they got us to play that role ourselves.

At least in Nineteen Eighty-Four, nobody felt free. In 2017, for Han, everybody feels free, which is the problem. “Of our own free will, we put any and all conceivable information about ourselves on the internet, without having the slightest idea who knows what, when or in what occasion. This lack of control represents a crisis of freedom to be taken seriously.”

“Did we really want to be free?” asks Han. Perhaps, he muses, true freedom is an intolerable burden and so we invented God in order to be guilty and in debt to something. That’s why, having killed God, we invented capitalism. Like God, only more efficiently, capitalism makes us feel guilty for our failings and, you may well have noticed, encourages us to be deep in immobilising debt.” 

I think I’m going to get this book. This would make a great pairing with Surveillance Capitalism by  Shoshana Zuboff. (I’ve linked to a review; the book is available on Amazon and elsewhere). I have the book but haven’t read it yet. Think about this:

“Surveillance capitalism unilaterally claims human experience as free raw material for translation into behavioural data. Although some of these data are applied to service improvement, the rest are declared as a proprietary behavioural surplus, fed into advanced manufacturing processes known as ‘machine intelligence’, and fabricated into prediction products that anticipate what you will do now, soon, and later. Finally, these prediction products are traded in a new kind of marketplace that I call behavioural futures markets. Surveillance capitalists have grown immensely wealthy from these trading operations, for many companies are willing to lay bets on our future behaviour.” 

From the review: “The combination of state surveillance and its capitalist counterpart means that digital technology is separating the citizens in all societies into two groups: the watchers (invisible, unknown and unaccountable) and the watched. This has profound consequences for democracy because asymmetry of knowledge translates into asymmetries of power. But whereas most democratic societies have at least some degree of oversight of state surveillance, we currently have almost no regulatory oversight of its privatised counterpart”. 

Part of my job is related to the regulatory oversight of the private sector, and I definitely think that it is an absolute mess. Countries have vastly different rules, but data doesn’t respect borders. Different countries have different goals. The EU’s data laws protect the individual. China’s data laws protect the state. The US’s data laws protect the economy. (With a few exceptions, the laws are really about what can be monetized and what can’t.)

So what is an individual supposed to do? I struggle with the best way to protect my own privacy and personal data, and to teach my teens to do the same, let alone put it into a socio-political context. 

I don’t think it’s possible to completely opt out of the surveillance and participate in modern life. It’s a bit easier for old people like me to opt out but I see younger people whose peer group socialises to such an extent through apps and phones (snapchat, instagram, etc). The problem is that if they are not on these platforms, they are to a very large extent excluded from social life, and humans are social animals. It’s not healthy for them to be isolated.

OTOH, we can make some choices. For example, I have a Facebook account (I have 3, actually), but the one with my real name is just for an online course that uses a FB group for discussion. One is for testing. One is my “real” account that does not use my real name where I keep in touch with family since I live half a world away. I log out every time I use it. I never gave FB my phone number or location or work place or hometown etc etc. I opted out of any advertising that I could, particularly adverts using my own Likes. I opted out of all third party platforms so I cannot accidentally log into a third party site with FB. I do not upload photos of my children. I cannot be tagged. I opted out of facial recognition. I check settings once a week in case they are “accidentally” reset. I check after upgrades and so forth. I don’t use FB messenger. I don’t use the FB app. I log out and clear my cache and cookies regularly.  I download all of my FB data from time to time (I think a lot of people did this after the Cambridge Analytica scandal) and check that it’s accurate and I’m ok with what’s out there. (btw, one of my professional highlights was writing about Cambridge Analytica in 2017, before the scandals broke in early 2018, w00t). 

Also, I do not have any google accounts. At all. I don’t use gmail. I cannot sign into google maps. If someone sends me a google doc for editing, I ask for a copy, edit it and send it back. (This is rarely an issue though; I think it’s happened twice.) I used to have a Youtube account, and when they changed the settings to log in with a google account and not just an email, I created an account on a separate computer, logged in, deleted all of my videos and then deleted my youtube account, then deleted my google account and then cleared my cookies and cache. I think this was 2008. 

But truth be told, this is not much. I know that. Amazon knows which Audible books I listen to, which Kindle books I read, and which paperbacks I buy. It goes on and on. 

Is there a balance? Are our choices to opt in -submit- to this surveillance or live off the grid? This isn’t simply a matter of updating data privacy laws. The issues that need to be resolved underpin the entire economy and political order.

Food for thought, anyway. (So how’s your quarantine going?) 

[currebunz]

Burn The Candle At Both Ends Ch 8

AO3 Link

When you woke this morning, it felt like a dream. You felt like you slept for years and was finally waking up. Not that groggy feeling kind of waking up, like your life just started anew. As cheesy as it sounds, it was because of the other occupant in your bed. Dabi was sound asleep, villains probably don't have work schedules. You carded your fingers through his spiky hair, causing him to stir in his sleep. Dabi opened one of his eyes lazily, almost staring through you. "It's too early to be up yet" he groaned. You lightly tugged on a chunk of his hair. "It's noon" you corrected him. Dabi buried his face into the bed, trying to ignore everything around him. You pulled your hand away from his hair, resting it on the sheets underneath you both.

"I didn't say stop" Dabi muttered into the sheets. A soft smile crawled onto your lips as you resumed playing with his hair. You laid in bed with him a little longer, there was no work today with the building being reconstructed. Once your stomach began to growl, you had to roll out of bed. Dabi lifted himself onto his elbows, the blanket sliding down to the middle of his back. It was then you realized he was nude, brandishing his burns. "Where are you going?" he asked. "Going to eat? You want in?" you asked. Dabi slid out of bed slowly, letting the blanket fall back onto the bed. He looked on the floor for his underwear and his pants. "I could go for a bite" he sauntered over and placed a short kiss on your lips. He nibbled on your bottom lip teasingly.

"I'm not on the menu" you swatted him away playfully. "Shame" Dabi chuckled as he followed you to the kitchen. You reached into your freezer and pulled out a box. "Hope you like frozen waffles" you called out to him. Dabi nodded taking one from you. "Wanna see something cool?" he smirked. You stayed silent, a sign for him to continue. Dabi's hand lit up with blue flame that engulfed the waffle. The flame died out quickly, producing a burning smell. "Ta-dah" Dabi stuck the pastry into his mouth and began eating it. You gave him a slow clap, rolling your eyes. "Wow, you're going to put my toaster out of business" you teased placing two waffles into your toaster. Dabi took another one from you, humming in delight. You watched him burn another one and eat it plain. "No syrup? You monster" you snickered while taking out a bottle of syrup. "Correction, villain, plus that stuff will rot your teeth" Dabi shot back. You held eye contact with him as you drowned your waffles in syrup. "I'll keep that in mind when I get arrested for cavities" your sly grin taunting him.

The morning continued with light banter between you both. Your phone had rung, excusing you from Dabi's company for a moment. "Hello ____? It's Numero, we're having an emergency meeting in the park today in the afternoon" your boss informed you. "If you can make it, please come to hear about the office change, it's easier in person than email" you could hear the distress in his voice. "Sure, I'll be there" you agreed quickly. "Great! It won't take too long, I swear on my abacus!" his voice cheered up quickly before ending the call. You turned back to Dabi, meeting his lazy gaze. "I gotta go to a meeting in the park soon, promise not to burn the place down?" you smirked as you leaned over him. Dabi let out a scoff in disgust. "That was one time, what happened to you being shaken by all that?" he rolled his eyes and pushed your face away. "You're the one who wanted to stay" you placed a soft kiss on his palm. Dabi starred at you before pulling his hand away and kissing you on the lips. "You're the one who didn't want me to leave" he replied. You ignored him and went back to your room to get a change of clothes.

By the time you finished, Dabi was sitting on your couch with a lazy stare. "Well, I'm off" you felt awkward about leaving him here. Both of you realized it was dangerous for him to be out during the day, which meant he'd probably be laying low till nighttime. "I'll be here" Dabi waved you off. As you shut your door, you missed his mischievous smirk.

You made it to the park faster than you wanted to. Your anxious thoughts on leaving Dabi behind made you walk faster. Either way, the sooner you arrived, the sooner you could leave. You recognized the familiar faces of your coworkers, each of them chatting quietly. "Oh Miss ____, I'm glad you made it" Numero's tiny assistant ran up to you with a small stack of papers. "Please take one, I have plenty to go around" she squeaked handing you a copy. You examined the paper carefully, noting the long paragraphs detailing the incident. "We'll be starting shortly, so have a seat nearby" she smiled before scampering off. You glanced around, not finding anyone you were burning to talk to. You plopped onto the grass quietly and waited for the meeting to begin.

Numero stood in the front of the group, twisting his mustache anxiously. "I'm glad you all made it and I'm glad you all seem well" he announced, clearing his throat after. "As you know, our office is under reconstruction, for now, we will be working in a temporary office owned by Sir Nighteye" he continued. A few gasped in awe while others sighed. "Anyways, you've all been forwarded relief money until we can resume work" a few cheers rang out amongst your peers. "However, please remain cautious of villain activity and try to stay in contact with your assigned agency" Numero hushed the crowd with his stern voice. His assistant held up a copy of the paper provided. "Work resumes on the date listed, see that you record your agency's stats on your own time before that date" she explained.

Afterward, everyone slowly dispersed. A few complained about the homework while others appeared over the moon about time off. You felt uneasy about having to meet with Endeavor during a time you wanted to laze about. Speaking of fiery men, you wondered what Dabi was up to. You checked your phone and noted he hadn't texted you. For a moment, you considered texting him that you were done. You decided not to, it would seem clingy. As you walked back home, you checked your bank account and your heart skipped a beat. As stated before, a large amount of money was deposited from Numero. You felt a skip in your step as you neared your apartment. Tonight, you were going to treat yourself and maybe Dabi too. You felt over the moon as you opened your door.

"I'm home!" you announced cheerfully. No reply came, filling you with anxiety. Your apartment hadn't changed, except for the absence of Dabi. You checked your phone again, still no word from Dabi. You took deep breaths, eliminating the worst possible outcome that came to mind. Dabi would most likely return when he wanted to, there was no need for you to know his whereabouts. You walked around your apartment looking for him or a note at least. You returned to your living room with no fruits of your efforts. Giving in, you sent Dabi a text notifying him of your return. Now you waited, wondering what to do with your free time. After a few minutes, your phone dinged with a notification. You quickly opened your phone to read Dabi's reply.

<Meet me in the park, wear something nice>

You stared at the text, trying to process what Dabi was planning. Ultimately, you decided to just go with it. Before you left, you put on a touch of makeup. The sun was setting by the time you made it to the park. You walked along looking around for Dabi. A strong had gripped your arm and tugged you behind a tree. A hand covered your mouth before you could scream. On instinct, you dug your elbow into the chest of your captor. He let out a grunt, but his grip didn't loosen on you.

"I-it's me!..."

You paused. It was Dabi.

You relaxed your shoulders and waited for him to release you. "Damn, I thought that was supposed to be romantic..." Dabi scowled still in pain from your attack. "You shouldn't try shady things when villains are on high alert" you nagged him. Dabi rolled his eyes. "Anyways, c'mon" he began walking ahead. You lagged behind a bit, ignorant of what he was planning. "Where are we going?" you asked. Dabi looked back, a small smirk on his face. "A date idiot, you look nice" you weren't sure to be angry or happy by his response. You realized you had stopped and were falling behind. "Hey wait!" you broke a stride to catch up with him.

Dabi took you back around some alleyways. They were lit up with signs for bars and clubs, a few emitting savory food or alcohol. "Isn't it dangerous for you to be out like this?" you asked. Dabi shrugged, stopping at a doorway. "We keep this area safe so people don't snitch on me" he explained. Dabi took your hand and pulled you into a little niche. The stairs traveled downward, causing you to slowly descended into the dimly lit area. The area opened to a fairly tamed club, a band was playing in the corner while everyone mingled. "This is where the people who don't want to be scrutinized under the public eye come, real freaks" Dabi chuckled.

You followed him to a table set up in a secluded corner. Dabi pulled your chair out, chivalry hasn't died after all. A server came by and recognized Dabi. "Well, it's been a while slick" she had said in a sly voice. "Someone has to pay your rent doll" he shot back. You watched the exchange mildly concerned. Dabi took note and cleared his throat. "Don't worry, I just helped Jaguar here when she needed it" he explained. The server sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm not that old, had I still been a man I'd take you outside" she warned. Dabi rolled his eyes and lifted his menu. "After I got those sleaze bag debt collectors off your case? You're the real villain" he chuckled. Suddenly, 'Jaguar' had a change of heart. "Oh Dabi! I would never! You're my knight in flaming armor after all!" she cooed. Dabi gagged a bit, making you laugh.

"Don't call me that, it makes me sound lame" Dabi spat. "Anyways, who is this pretty gal?" 'Jaguar' looked you over with a smile. You introduced yourself with a small wave. "Oh, how precious! I've gotta let the chefs know! Any allergies hun? You won't need these!" 'Jaguar' swiped the menus and gave Dabi a knowing smile. "This one is on the house!" she sang before disappearing behind the doors to the kitchen. You stared at Dabi, watching him lean back in his seat. "So much for a relaxing night" he sighed. "It's okay, I'm having fun" you reassured him. A few minutes passed and Jaguar flew by with water. Dabi began to ask for a drink, but Jaguar gave him an intense glare. "I won't have you getting tipsy on your first date" Jaguar scolded him.

By now, Dabi was regretting life choices as you animately waved at the passing servers. They each had a colorful personality and knew Dabi to some extent. "Shove off you guys" Dabi finally shooed them away like birds flocking to food. One of them left a plate of round fried balls on the table. "What are these?" you asked, taking one and examining it. "Fried cheese curds, try one" Dabi popped one into his mouth without hesitation. You tried one and it felt hot in your mouth. "It's good," you said around the warm cheese. "They must be picking some of my favorites, what losers" Dabi laughed. Jaguar came back around to be nosy, only to run away as Dabi glared at her. "The staff really likes you" Dabi gagged again at your comment.

"I don't need to be liked, but they aren't so bad" despite the irritation in his voice, he was smiling. "So, you just keep this area safe?" you asked. Dabi nodded. "This area is predominately villains, so I keep it in line for those who do petty crimes" he explained. "From heroes?" you continued. Dabi shrugged again. "Heroes and other villains, it doesn't hurt to have some insurance" he glanced around as he spoke. You noticed that everyone in the surrounding area appeared rather eccentric or underdressed. Not something you would see at a cafe or a five-star restaurant. "It's like the slums in a way, but rather friendly" you muttered aloud.

Dinner came and went rather quickly. Jaguar had presented the house special, which had been a dish you weren't familiar with. It tasted amazing, making you wonder how you had been missing out. Jaguar came by after you were finished, with two shot glasses. "And for dessert! Parfait shots" she placed one in front of you and one in front of Dabi. "I gave yours a little hit for being a good boy tonight" she winked at him. She turned to you and crouched down. "Oh, yours was made non-alcoholic dear but if you'd like something don't hesitate to ask" she apologized. "It's no big deal, I'm good" you nodded. "What a sweetheart, Dabi don't fuck this up" Jaguar shot him a strict glare before prancing off. You were practically rolling in your seat.

"That damn queen, let's hurry and leave already" he slammed down a large tip and took his shot in one go. You finished yours in two takes, feeling your tongue spark with sweetness. "I should make these for the club" you hummed in delight. Dabi stood up and took your hand. He pulled you to your feet and hastily exited. From behind, there was a collective "good-bye" from the staff and patrons, no doubt trying to embarrass Dabi. The cool night air brushed up against you, drawing you closer to Dabi. "Let's go this way" he led you down the road. The busy city calmed down and a still quiet filled the emptying street. Dabi pulled you into a seemingly abandoned building. "Where are we going?" you asked. "You'll see" Dabi continued forward.

A broken staircase appeared in your way. "Just a moment" Dabi crouched down and slung his arms under you. He lifted you bridal style, being careful not to let your clothes drag. "Hang on tight" he ordered. You didn't hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck. Dabi went around the staircase and climbed the broken debris skillfully. You weren't sure how many floors you went up, but eventually, he stopped at a floor with the wall broken out. "Close your eyes for a moment," Dabi asked as he placed you back on the ground. You did as he requested, still a bit unsure of the situation. Your nose caught the smell of burning and you hear the crackle of flames.

"Alright, you can look now" Dabi called out. Your eyes opened to the now dimly lit room. Moonlight fell through on one side while a dozen candles lit the other. A sheet was set up to provide coverage, Dabi stood near it with his hand outstretched. "C'mere, I set this all up for you after all" he beckoned. You approached him slowly, still shocked by this display. Your hands fell into Dabi's, allowing him to pull you closer to him. Now, standing chest to chest, you could see Dabi's blue eyes shining through the darkness. "You said you wanted a date, so here we are" he pulled you to sit down next to him. Dabi looked up, prompting you to follow his gaze.

The giant hole in the wall made it easy to see the starry sky above. "This is the best place to watch the stars, the city lights make it too difficult" Dabi muttered aloud. "It's an amazing view..." you felt a breeze blow by and it felt cold against your skin. "Here," Dabi shrugged off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. His arm slid around your waist, providing heat as well. "Thank you" a slight flush blossomed on your cheeks. Dabi was sitting so close to you, it was all so romantic. "Hey, you're missing the view" Dabi tilted his head into your line of vision. You perked up, embarrassed from being caught in a daze. "Sorry, it's just all so sudden" you apologized.

"I can be sentimental sometimes" Dabi leaned his head on top of yours. A tender moment passed by, you in Dabi's arms as you both watched the stars. A shooting star flew by, earning a gasp from you. "Make a wish! Make a wish!" you excitedly patted Dabi on the chest. "Alright, alright" he closed his eyes for a moment before opening them. "Did you make one?" he asked. "Of course, but we can't share our wishes or they won't come true" you zipped your lips to emphasize your superstitious beliefs. Dabi obeyed, going back to watching silently. Your eyes flickered to Dabi's side profile occasionally. Your wish playing over and over in your head.

"I wish we could be together forever"

[kpopfromtheblock]

a/n ⇾ to be honest with you all, this isn’t my best work but i’m posting it anyways because it took me forever to write and i know there are a few readers who were waiting for this installment… although it’s not my favorite, i hope you still enjoy it! friendly reminder: if you click the title, it will take you to the series masterlist <3 thanks for reading! 

LIFE WITH BANGTAN | ot7

004

genre ⇾ comedy (bts crack? i guess) + fluff

pairing ⇾ bts x fem reader

summary ⇾ you’re not great at cooking but you’re not the worst either and one night you have the brilliant idea to cook for the boys… unfortunately for you, some of them are not impressed by your cooking skills.

warning ⇾ the usual: swearing, a lil’ dash of cringy-ness, idfk… it’s shit show.

words ⇾ 4,9k 

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“Fuck!” You mumble to yourself as one of four pots on the stove begin to boil over in front of you. You rush to turn the heat down in order to stop the water from spilling out and onto the floor. 

You’ve already made a mess of the kitchen… Run-away vegetables scattered across the counters, sauces splattered on the tiled floor and kitchen mats… 

Jin is going to kill you when he sees the state of his kitchen but you don’t really have time to worry about it. You have very crucial task at hand: Cook dinner for seven very hungry men. 

You lift your arm up and use the sleeve of the oversized hoodie you’re wearing, that previously belonged to Jimin, to wipe the sweat off your forehead.

‘Do people normally sweat this much when they cook?’ You sigh heavily before picking up the large knife, which you’re sure is not meant for chopping veggies, off the counter. 

You begin cutting up the remainder of carrots you have laying on a wooden cutting board. 

When you’re done, you stand there for a few minutes and stare at the orange vegetable in disbelief... “This doesn’t look right.” You say out loud as you drop the knife and grab your iPad that was propped up against a container of sugar. 

You are trying to follow a recipe that your Mother so kindly sent to you via email. She was so thorough that she even included pictures of what the food was supposed to look like before, during and after. 

Though you were a bit thrown off by the length of the email, you weren’t in the least bit surprised… You expected nothing less from your Mom, as she is the head chef and partial owner (alongside your Father) of a well-known restaurant back in your hometown…  Her line of work kind of requires her to be thorough. 

The carrots in the picture your mom emailed you, look nothing like the carrots you just finished cutting.

Your carrots are cut into weird shapes. Some too big, others too small. Some are not peeled correctly, others are peeled so thinly that you could almost see-through them, where as your Mother’s carrots were cut to perfection. 

All the same circular shape and about the same thickness.

‘How did I manage to fuck up cutting carrots?’ You think. You were embarrassed with yourself.

If only Jin were in here to see you now. He’d probably laugh loudly in your face then try to repair the damage you’ve made but luckily for you, you were successful in forcing Jin and the rest of the guys into the confinement’s of Taehyung’s room.

Tae’s room was the largest in the dorm and could fit all seven members comfortably. 

It was also the furthest away from the kitchen which meant that you were able to work in peace without any of them prying over your shoulder or so you thought. 

Jin came in twice and Yoongi, once to check on you and see if you needed help… You rejected them both, determined to finish cooking all your own. 

A whole hour has passed now and you are regretting your decision to turn their help away but you have too much pride to ask for help now especially since you were the one who offered to cook in the first place…

You remember it like it was yesterday: 

After a long day of work and practice, the eight of you piled into a van to head back to the dorm for the night. You spent the day playing BTS’ personal assistant as their usual assistant (who just so happen to be your older cousin) had called out because of a family emergency. 

You were no stranger to being a P.A. for the boys as you were the one who took over when your cousin had gone on Maternity leave… Working for Big Hit was obviously how you met the idols (but thats a story for another time). 

Although Big Hit Ent has a shit ton of staff members that could have filled in, your cousin had request that you be her back up if anything happened to where she couldn’t make it into work. 

Big Hit had agreed to your cousin’s request, not only because she is a well respected senior member of BTS’ staff but also because you were exceptional at the job. 

You handled the boys’ schedules and tasks with such care and attention to detailed that the company offered to hire you full time but when things started to get serious between yourself and the guys, you turned down the position, wanting to be with them more than wanting to make money from the company. Plus being a P.A. wasn’t what you wanted to do for the rest of your life… No matter how well it paid… It wasn’t your passion.

It was a rare occasion that you got a call from Big Hit to come into the office for the day but when you did, you jump at the opportunity because it was a way for you to spend more time with your boyfriends and it was a nice little break from working in the small, very noisy and sometimes smelly Vet’s office you usually worked in… 

“Okay kids. Buckle up.” You say enthusiastically as up slip into the drivers seat and shut the door after you. 

You felt bad that either Jin, Hoseok or Jungkook would’ve had to drive home after having a full day of practice… You saw how hard they worked and you knew that without a doubt, their bodies were sore and worn out from the day so you offered to push the whip back to their dorm in order to give them some time to rest. 

Of course Jin was the only one to argue with you for five whole minutes about driving. He insisted that he wasn’t tired and maybe that was true but still… You didn’t want to hear it. 

You dismissed him and stole the van keys right out of his hand. He knew he had lost the argument once the keys were in your possession. 

Yoongi sat in the passengers side, while the others piled into the back. You finished strapping on your seat belt then went ahead to put the key in the ignition so you could start the van. 

The ride home was relaxing. 

Namjoon had fallen asleep fairly early on during the ride. He was sat beside Jin who scrolling through his phone in the very back seat. 

Hoseok was sat in the middle seat, closest to the window. His head thrown back and his lips slightly parted as his chest rose and fell softly. He was out like a light, much like Namjoon was. Jimin and Taehyung were beside him, Jimin in the middle. The two younger boys conversed amongst themselves and Yoongi was sat beside you, curled into himself against the window, snoring quietly. 

You were keeping your eyes focused on the road while the sounds of the men’ around you, kept you relaxed.

“I’m hungry.” Taehyung suddenly mentions. “Me too.” Jimin chimed in. “Do you guys want me to stop somewhere?” You asked, looking back at them through the rearview mirror. “Or Jin could make us something when we get back home?” Tae suggested, looking back at the older male with hopeful eyes. 

They really enjoy Jin’s cooking. He doesn’t cook that often for them anymore since they’ve been so busy and he hasn’t had time to cook a full meal.

Long practices and busy schedules usually mean they have to either eat out or order in… 

The boys long for a home cooked meal. 

You take a minute to glance at Jin’s face through the mirror again… You can see how tired his eyes are and you suddenly felt a bit of guilt pushing against your chest. You know he’s exhausted and to have to go home and cook a meal for the eight of you, at this time of night? It’s a bit much. 

“I can cook...” You offered. The words left your mouth before you really had time to process them in your head... 

Jin, Jimin and Tae all snap their heads over to you. 

When you don't hear any responses from them, you took a quick look up. You don't miss the way their faces twist in a mixture of amusement and confusion, before placing your eyes back on the road. “What?” You asked, genuinely puzzled by their facial expressions. 

“You’ll cook?” Tae asked, just to make sure he heard you correctly. “Yeah…” Your voice is quiet and laced with uncertainty but it was too late for you to take back your words back. “Dinner? You’ll cook dinner?” It was Jimin’s voice you heard this time. “Yes.” You said sternly. “For us?” Jin questioned you again in disbelief. “Oh my god! Yes!” You semi-shout. 

You felt a bit annoyed with them for asking you the same questions. You were just offering to cook dinner for them, not build them a boat… Why are they so pressed about it?

You look over at Yoongi to make sure you hadn’t woken him as he was the closest to you and when you saw that he hadn’t moved from his position, you continued. 

“I’ll cook dinner. For you all. Tonight. Why are you guys being so weird about it?”

“Because you never offer to cook.” Tae reminded you. 

“Thats not true! I always offer, Jin always says no.” 

“That’s because you’re not good at cooking Princess.” Jin is blunt and it kind of throws you off guard but then you realize he does have a bit of a point. You’re not the best at cooking but you have the basics down and you can make a mean pot of ramen… That counts right?

“I know how to cook.” You tried defend yourself but even you know the words sound bland leaving your lips. “Baby, putting rice in the cooker and turning it on is not cooking.” Jimin told you in a matter of fact tone. A little gasps leaves your lips at his insult. 

‘How dare he!’ You think to yourself. 

You rolled your eyes when you heard Taehyung chuckling next to Jimin.

“Mr. Jimin…” You said warningly. “Don’t you start with me. You barely know how to boil water…” You clapped back at him. Taehyung is throwing his head back whilst holding his stomach. He is laughing so hard, his shoulders are visibly shaking. He loves with you and Jimin bicker with each other. It’s the funniest thing in the world to him. 

“Out of the two of us, I am the better cook.” You said confidently. 

“My bullshit senses are tingling.” Jimin joked and you scoffed at him. 

“How about tomorrow tonight?” Jin suddenly suggests, causing both you and Jimin to cease your petty arguing.“Why not tonight? I really don’t mind.” You told them, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly.

 Now you were determined to prove a point to Jimin. You were the better cook. You have to be… Your mom is a chef for crying out loud, knowing how to cook should be in your DNA

“Well, we’ll have to stop at a grocery store, right? To get ingredients and it’s a bit late to start cooking now so how about we go home and order something then tomorrow you can cook for us? Sound good?” Jin asked you and you nod your head in agreement. “Tomorrow it is.” You said. 

You were sure you’d be able to cook a perfectly good meal for your boyfriends. Cooking isn’t hard. You were knowledgeable about the basics and you’ve seen Jin cook plenty of times too. 

’It’ll be fine.’ You think to yourself, boy were you wrong…

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The rice cooker beeps loudly behind you. You turn away from the stove and walk over to the counter to shut the cooker off. You open the lid then take up the paddle spoon. You scoop up some of the rice and pop it in your mouth. It’s steaming hot and it almost burns your tongue but you chew with caution then swallow. You smile happily at the taste. “If all else fails, at least there’s rice.” You giggle to yourself as you think about how you should get those words printed on a t-shirt or something.. And you know Yoongi, Jin and Taehyung would agree with you because the four of you have been dubbed (by the rest of the boys), the official rice fairies since you all eat it some much.

“It smells good…” You’re startled by the sound of Jungkook’s voice. You whip your body around to see him lifting one of the pot covers. 

Were you so impressed by your rice cooking skills that you didn’t notice him slide into the kitchen behind you. “Jungkook!” You slap his hand and he drops the pot lid, it falls perfectly back into place. “Get your ass out of here!” You say sternly. You put your hand on his shoulder and begin to push him away from the stove. 

You’re strong but not as strong as him and your small hand is no match for his large shoulder. When you push him, he barely moves an inch. 

“But I’m hungry~” Jungkook whines and you can’t fight the smile that forms on your lips at the cute way he drags his words. 

“And Namjoon won’t let me eat any of my snacks… He says it’ll ruin my dinner.” Jungkook complains as he turns he’s body around to face you. His tall frame towers over your shorter one. 

“Joon is right and I’m almost done Kookie.” You try to reassure him but the look on his face tells you that it isn’t working. 

“How much longer?” He asks as he turns his body to finally face you.

“Twenty minutes.” You say, looking up at him adoringly.

“But you said twenty minutes, when Jin came in to check on you an hour ago.” He protests and you chuckle. “Kookie…” You call sweetly as you step closer to him. You wrap your arms around his waist and press your face to his chest. Maybe a little affection and sweet talk will do the trick… “I promise I’m almost done. If I’m not finished in twenty minutes, you have permission to eat all your snacks. Okay?” You look up at him to find that he is already staring down at you. When your eyes meet his, he quickly looks away in that cute way he does when he knows he’s been caught staring. You giggle and you can see a smirk forming on his lips as he tries to avoid eye contact. He wants to be upset with you because of how long you’re taking with dinner but he can’t…

“Do we have a deal?” You ask him, keeping your eyes on his sharp jawline. 

When Jungkook realizes that you aren’t going to stop staring his glorious side profile, he looks down at you. “Fine. But please move faster. We’re all starving and I think Yoongi s going to bit off Jin’s head soon because he keeps talking.” Jungkook informs you and you nod. “Okay, okay. I’m going as fast as I can.” You tell him. You stand on your toes to peak his lips. “Now go.” You say whilst patting his butt a few times as a way to usher him out of the kitchen so you can get back to work.

Two hours pass and you’re finally done cooking. You can’t believe it’s taken you two whole hours to cook fiour dishes that you started all at the same time. It has never taken Jin this long to cook anything and that’s a dead giveaway that you’ve screwed something up… 

After you finish setting the table, you call for the boys. They youngest members come tumbling into the dinning room with the older ones following closely behind. “Wow~” Jimin and Jungkook say in unison as they see the meals you’ve prepared for them… It looks and smells amazing but the taste is the most important thing and you aren’t sure you’ve done such a good job in that department… You’re almost positive you haven’t.

“Look! There’s rice!” Taehyung points excitedly at the huge bowl full of steaming hot white rice. “The seaweed soup looks so delicious.” Hoseok comments and you smile at his words. “Does it?” You ask eagerly. Hobi nods at you then walks over to kiss the top of your head, lovingly. “I’m sure it’ll taste great.” he assures you. “Wow, look at the pork belly.” Namjoon has hearts in his eyes as he sees the mountain of juicy pork belly sitting on a plate. 

You are starting to feel a little bit more confident about your cooking since the reaction from your boys so far has been good but you have to keep in mind that they haven’t actually tasted anything yet.

You look over at Yoongi when you hear him chuckling from where he stands. Even though you have no idea what he’s laughing about, you smile at him. “Whats so funny?” You question. “We’re acting like we’ve never seen these kinds of foods before.” Yoongi explains and it causes the rest of the boys to laugh too. “It’s because we’re starving…” Namjoon says and you immediately feel guilty for taking so long to cook them a proper meal. 

You know they must be starving. “Well, the wait is over. Eat!” You encourage them as you take the empty seat in between Jungkook and Hoseok. 

The boys begin to fill their plates. You’re too nervous to eat, so you just sit there and watch, like a creep. “You’re not eating Angel?” Hoseok asks you as he scoops some rice into his plate. “You guys eat first.” You use your hands to urge him into adding more food to his plate. 

Jungkook uses his chopsticks to grab a piece of pork then he pops it into his mouth. You smile as he hums contently while he chews. “How is it?” You ask him, expectingly. He’s silent for a little bit while he chews but after he swallows, he smiles and gives you two thumbs up. “Really?! Two thumbs?” You exclaim and Jungkook nods his head. He begins filling his plate with more meat. “Wow, not one but two thumbs up.” You say in amazement. Receiving two thumbs up from Jungkook is big accomplishment for you. 

“Cooking pork belly is easy though.” Jimin says sourly in an attempt to tease you. You cut your eyes at him before sitting up straight in your seat, ready to give him a piece of your mind. “Listen here…” You start. “Don’t try to discredit me! Let me have this victory, okay!” You say sternly and he holds his hands up in defense, giving you a small smirk.

Park Jimin just loves to rile you up.

Hoseok goes for a piece of pork this time. He takes a few minutes to chew before his eyes widen like saucers. Your stomach drops, thinking he’s in shock because of how bad it taste but you’re wrong… “Delicious.” He tells you and now your the one with the widening eyes. “Seriously!?” You ask in disbelief and he nods. “Holy shit.” You mumble under your breath, as you sit back in your seat. You are stunned. 

Two out of seven have given you praises on your food. You can’t believe it… You thought for sure, they would’ve banned you from the kitchen after tasting one bite.

You feel proud that you managed to cook something that the boys seem to be enjoying. You were sitting high on your horse at this point but little did you know… You were about to get kicked right off… 

Whilst you are conversing with Hoseok and Namjoon, Jimin is scooping a hefty amount of seaweed soup into a bowl you provided for him. He is excited to eat it as he hasn’t had seaweed soup in a while. He was looking forward to it. 

He dips his spoon into the hot liquid then puts it up to his mouth to cool it quickly before shoving the spoon in. The soup hits his tongue and he immediately cringes at the taste. He shakes his head whilst sticking his tongue out, trying to rid his taste buds of the bitterness. 

Jimin is so distraught by the bad soup that he doesn’t notice the way Taehyung is staring at him with a concerned expression, having seen the way he reacted to your soup. 

When Jimin finally gets over the taste, he turns his head to face Tae. He has warn the younger boy about the soup… 

“What?” Tae mouths to Jimin, not wanting to bring attention to the two of them. “It’s bad.” Jimin mouths back immediately. 

If anyone were looking at them from the outside, they would think the two were communicating telepathically. 

“What’s bad?” Tae ask, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion.  

“The soup.” Jimin points at the bowl with his spoon. “The soup is bad?” Tae mouths again, slightly shocked by the news he’s hearing.

In response, Jimin just takes his spoon and dips it into his bowl, gathering the broth. He then brings the spoon up to Tae’s mouth. Tae leans forward to taste the liquid… He lets the soup swish around in his mouth before swallowing… He frowns when he realizes that the soup, is indeed very bad. “Aw..” He says sadly, feeling extremely disappointed. He too was excited about getting to eat some seaweed soup but after tasting it, he doesn’t feel the same. 

Jimin releases a chuckle at Tae’s reaction then covers his mouth quickly, hoping no one heard him. “Give some to Yoongi.” Jimin encourages Tae, wanting to see the older males reaction to the taste of your soup. 

You’re conversation with Joon and Hobi comfortably subsides when you see Jin, who is sitting at the end of the table, takes a spoon full of the seaweed soup you’ve slaved over. He pushes the spoon into his mouth and lets the warm liquid wash over his taste buds… You’re staring intently at him, after all, his reaction will be the most precious for you as he’s the cook in the house… You don’t miss the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows slowly, his nose scrunches up and then he clears his throat. 

This isn’t the reaction you were expecting… 

You can hear Jimin who is sitting across from you, quietly dying of laughter and Tae who is beside him, trying to stifle his own laughter… 

“Well?” You ask. He still hasn’t commented on the food but if his facial expression is anything to go by, you’re sure he’s disgusted by the taste. 

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” You want Jin to confirm what you already know is true which is that soup taste horrible and you’re the worst cook ever. Your previous confidents has gone all the way out the window now. “It’s.. Uh—” Jin starts but stops as he racks his brain for the right words to say. He doesn’t want to hurt your feelings but he can’t deny that the soup taste a bit odd. 

“It’s disgusting... You can say it.” You tell him as you pout, disappointed in yourself…

“No Princess… It’s just—” Jin begins again but is soon cut off by Yoongi’s voice. “It’s the worst seaweed soup Ive ever tasted…” He say bluntly and Jimin burst out into laughter. “It’s so bitter. There’s no flavor… It’s like you just boiled water for two hours then added the seaweed in last minute.” Yoongi’s savage confession causes you to freeze in your seat. 

You sit there dumbfounded, your mouth slightly agape… 

‘Is he really going to embarrass me like this in front of the rest of the guys?’ You internally ask yourself

Of course he is. 

“I mean did you even add sesame oil and where’s the beef?” He continues. “C’mon Kitten. This isn’t it…” He says, almost as if he’s disappointed in you. 

Jimin is laughing so hard that theres no sound coming out of his mouth. He is clutching his stomach in attempt to stop the cramping. Tae is trying to avoid eye contact in order to keep it together. He doesn’t want to laugh in your face like Jimin is doing but it’s hard not to when you are sitting there looking like a deer caught in head lights… 

“Is it really bad?” Jungkook is curious. He picks up his spoon and scoops it into the pot of soup. When he feels he has enough on his spoon, he brings it to his mouth to taste. 

He doesn’t react the way the other do. Instead, he slowly places the utensil down and turns to look at you. “Yeah~” He drags out his word. “I’m sorry baby but, it’s pretty bad.” He admits as he brings his hand up to pat your shoulder, feeling sorry for you. 

Namjoon and Hoseok are the only ones holding it together but, you’re sure they won’t last much longer.

Your face is warmer than usual… You are embarrassed beyond belief and it doesn’t stop there. 

“I mean… I wasn’t going to say anything but…” Namjoon speaks up and you snap your head over to his direction. 

‘Not him too.’ You think. 

“The rice cakes aren’t good either.” He adds. “You’ve got to be kidding me?” You’re flabbergasted. You knew that it wasn’t going to taste phenomenal but you didn’t think they would insult your cooking this badly. “Taste it.” Yoongi demands. He needs you to taste it so you can see that it’s the truth they’re telling you. Your soup sucks. 

Yoongi scoops up some of the broth and leans across the table. He holds the spoon to your lips and you open your mouth for him to feed you. 

The minute the liquid touches your tongue, you wince… Not only because it’s still hot but because it actually does taste horrible. “Oh my god.” You groan, wanting to take back the decision you’ve made to cook in the first place. “It’s so bitter.” You gag, sticking your tongue out dramatically, much like Jimin had done earlier. “So. Fucking. Bitter.” Yoongi nods his head. The room falls silent, expect for the quiet chuckling you hear every few seconds from across the table.

“This is so embarrassing.” You say more to yourself than to the men around you as you look down at your empty plate.

When you look up, all seven men have their eyes on you. The smirks on their faces are priceless… They are trying so hard not to hurt your feelings by laughing. 

“It’s okay… You can laugh.” You give them permission and they don’t even spare you for another second as they all burst into laughter. Jimin is now laughing so hard that he can’t see because his eyes are blurred with tears. 

“I can’t believe you spent two hours cooking just for it to taste this bad.” Jin says through chuckles… You don’t fight the smile that is starting to form on your face… As disappointed as you are, you can’t help but find it funny that you’ve failed so terribly. 

Plus, it’s hard not to laugh when the boys are laughing so hysterically at you. Their laughs are infectious.

“Hey!” You shout over their loud mouths. “At least we have pork belly and rice.” You remind them. “That came out okay.” You utter quietly, the embarrassment creeping it’s way back into your system.

“Yeah!” Namjoon chimes in. “Cut Baby girl some slack! She tried.” He defends you and you smile gratefully at him. “Thank you Joonie.” You say sweetly and he winks at you. 

“Okay, okay.” Jin says, trying to calm everyone else down. 

“This wasn’t a complete fail and we appreciate your efforts Princess.” He commends you. “Thank you Jinnie.” You say contently. 

“Of course Princess.” 

“So… What are we going to do with all this soup and spicy rice cakes? Because I won’t be eating it.” You ball up your napkin and throw it at Jimin’s head after he speaks.

“Shut up.” You groan and he laughs teasingly. “Leave her alone.” Tae speaks, although he is still chuckling. 

“I’m sorry okay but why did you offer to cook when you know you can’t?” Jimin raises questioning brow at you.

“I was just trying to do something nice…” You admit.

“And we appreciate it Angel.” Hoseok is sincere with his word. He grabs your hand under the table and gives it a little squeeze. The gesture makes you feel a little bit better. 

You sigh and sit up straight in your seat, finally deciding to accept your defeat. 

“Maybe I should just stick to rice and ramen…” You say out loud. “I like that idea!” The boys clap simultaneously. “Rice and ramen is a good.”  Jimin pips up and you giggle. “And pork belly too.” Jungkook adds. “The pork belly really is delicious.” He pops another piece into his mouth. 

‘Glad I did something right.’ 

You gaze at the food on the table. You’ve only made four dishes but you’ve made a lot… Literally so much. You start to feel sick looking at it.

“Seriously… What to do with this big ass pot of soup?” You ask.  

“Don’t you have someone at school you hate? A professor or something… Give it to them.” You burst into laughter at Jungkook’s suggestion. 

“Thats not nice Kookie… Why would I purposefully bring someone food that taste bad?” 

“But you can poison us just fine with this so called seaweed soup? You heartless woman.” Jimin jokes. You leap up out your seat and dash yourself around the table to attack him but he gets up before you can get to him. He runs towards his bedroom. “I’m going to kill you when I catch Park Jimin.” You yell as begin chasing him around the house. 

You are too preoccupied with trying to beat up Jimin, that you don’t notice when Jin picks up your disaster of a soup and brings back over to the stove. 

While he tries his best to save the meal you’d destroyed,  he thinks of maybe getting you some at-home cooking lesson for your birthday…

[greysanatomy-station19addict]

Come Back to Me: Chapter One

Set in the Sound of Silence episode. I wrote this a while back, so hopefully someone enjoys 😊

It was the middle of the night and she was being woken by her phone ringing. Cristina slowly rolled over in her bed to grab her phone. When she looked at the caller id she quickly became irritated. Answering her phone with a snarky remark, she was quickly toned down by the voice of the person on the other end.

"Evil Spawn, do you have any idea…" she was unable to finish her sentence before Alex interrupted her.

"Cristina…" she could tell just by the sound of his voice that this was not a good call. Something was wrong.

"Alex, what is it? What's wrong?" he didn't respond quickly enough for her liking and she became even more worried.

"Alex, please. What happened?"

"It's Meredith…" deep down Cristina already knew it was Meredith. It was always Meredith. Whenever she got a call in the middle of the night from Seattle, it was always bad. Seattle Grace Mercy Death strikes again she thinks. Her mind instantly flashes back to the last time she got a call from Seattle in the middle of the night.

She had been in surgery all day and was so happy to be able to go home and get a good night sleep. She had been asleep for what seemed like minutes when she was woken by the sound of her phone ringing. She cursed whoever it was and reached to her nightstand to see who was calling at this awful hour. When she looked at the name on the phone, her heart began to race.

"Owen?" She hadn't heard from Owen in months, except for a few emails back and forth. Neither of them could bear to pick up the phone to call each other.

"I'm sorry to call so late, I know it's the middle of the night there, but umm…" Owen's inability to get to the point was worrying her.

"Owen, what is it? Are you ok" She could hear him breathing heavily on the other end of the phone. His voice was shaking.

"I'm fine. It's Meredith..." Cristina's heart sunk. She left her person. She was supposed to be ok. She needed her alive. Alex was supposed to watch out for her.

"What happened?" The urgency in Cristina's voice grew stronger as the conversation continued slowly.

"Owen…"

"Derek is dead." Cristina steadied herself on the corner of her bed as she processed what Owen was telling her. She wasn't even sure if she had heard him correctly.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Cristina heard Owen sigh heavily on the other end of the phone.

"Derek is dead. There was an MVC last night. He was struck by a semi." Cristina knew by the pain in Owen's voice that this was real. She was not dreaming. Seattle Grace Mercy Death has taken so much from them already; she didn't think it was possible to lose anymore.

"Owen, I... I…Meredith?" She couldn't even compose her own thoughts. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes. She was lost for words. They survived so much, they were supposed to live forever.

"Meredith…she is, umm, honestly Cristina, she's destroyed. Devastated." Tears now streamed down her face. Tears for her person, her best friend. Her family. Not even realizing what she was doing Cristina had walked to the closet for her suitcase.

"Owen, I…I don't know what to say?" Owen could tell by the way Cristina was talking that she was crying. Even though they grew apart, he still knew her.

"Cristina, I think you should come. Meredith needs you."

"I'll be on the next flight out."

Cristina quickly came out of the trance she was in when she heard her name being called on the other end of the phone.

"Cristina…Cristina, are you there?"

"Alex, is Meredith dead?" She could hear Alex sigh heavily on the phone and his voice begin to shake.

"Oh my god, Alex. She's dead?" Her world started spinning. Tears flowed from her eyes almost instantly. Not again she thought. She couldn't lose anyone else. She couldn't take anymore. She didn't have any more goodbyes in her.

"No Cristina, she's not dead, but…" There was always a but. The but was always the scariest part.

"But what Alex? Just tell me."

"She was attacked by a patient. She's alive, but she's not doing very well. She's got so many injuries. I couldn't, I couldn't watch anymore. She has to stay alive, Cristina, I need her. I can't do this without her." Cristina could tell he was crying. The Alex she knew would never openly cry like that so she knew it must be bad.

"Alex, don't do this. You need to be with her. You are her person now and she needs you. Meredith is strong, but she needs you. Alex, I'm coming. I will be there as soon as I can, but until then you do not leave her side. Do you hear me?" She heard him take a deep breath and assumed he was trying to compose himself before responding.

"I won't leave her, but please, get here soon."

"I'll be on the next flight out, and Alex…" she could tell he hesitated before responding.

"Yeah?"

"She better be alive when I get there."

Before she knew it the flight had taken off. It had only been a few hours since Alex had called, but it seemed like it had been forever. This had only been the second time she'd taken this flight since she left Seattle, and honestly it was becoming the flight she never wanted to take. She thought about all the times she had wanted to get on a plane and go to Seattle, go home, but she just couldn't. She had so many memories there, she found her family there, the love of her life there, her passion. Seattle had given her so much, but it had also taken so much. She was sat on the plane, heading 8,000 miles to Seattle, hoping that it hadn't taken the most important thing.

When the plane landed, Cristina felt a sense of relief flood her body. The kind of relief you would feel after being in a plane crash and the plane you were in now safely landed on the runway of the airport. She got off the plane as quickly as she could, not wanting to waste any time getting to Meredith. She picked up her bags and was going to hop in a cab over to the hospital, when her eyes met with a familiar face.

"Dr. Yang, it's good to see you, even under these circumstances."

"Wilson, I didn't know anyone was coming. I could have taken a cab."

"Alex wanted someone to be here to get you. Dr. Hunt was going to come, but he got pulled into a surgery." Cristina smiled at the gesture and thanked Jo for picking her up.

The car ride to the hospital was quiet. Cristina did ask Jo about Meredith, but she had few answers. She wasn't sure if she actually didn't know, or if she had been instructed not to say anything. The closer they got to the hospital the bigger the pit in her stomach got. She was terrified what she was going to find when she walked into the hospital.

When she got to the hospital it looked exactly the same, except everything was different. When she walked in everything was exactly how she remembered. The look, the smell, the feel, it was all the same. As she walked into the ER, her eyes took in the familiar scene before they met with a familiar face.

"Cristina Yang." Cristina's eyes got soft as they met with the familiar face. She couldn't help but smile as he embraced her in a hug.

"Dr. Webber. It's very good to see you. Even under the circumstances." Cristina watched his smile fade as she brought up Meredith. She knew this had to be just as hard on him as it was for her.

"Meredith, is she umm…" Cristina didn't even finish her question. She wasn't even sure she could have even if she wanted to before her voice began to crack.

"It's ok. She's stable. They have her sedated. She can't hear anything, the blow to her head caused her eardrum to rupture, but Jackson is confident he can repair it. Her leg is broken and she's extremely bruised and swollen, but she's stable."

Cristina closed her eyes and took in what Dr. Webber was telling her. She was trying to process everything before she went up to see her. She needed to prepare herself. She was a strong person, but she wasn't sure how strong she was going to be when she seen Meredith.

"Alex is with her now. Do you want me to take you to her?" Richard asked softly.

All Cristina could do was nod at the fear of tears forming and her voice cracking.

They took the elevator to the fifth floor where the ICU was. Cristina knew the place like the back of her hand, but she still needed someone to make sure she didn't get lost. Richard placed his hand reassuringly on Cristina's shoulder.

"Meredith is strong. She's going to pull through." Richard's words were not reassuring to Cristina. She knew how strong Meredith was. She's the one who survived a bomb, a drowning, a gunman, giving birth in the dark, her husband dying and now, she had to survive this. She couldn't give up now.

When the elevator finally reached the fifth floor Cristina sighed heavily and walked towards Meredith's room. She stopped outside the window and just looked. In all the years she has known Meredith, in all the trauma she has seen, this was the worst. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Meredith. Alex was sat in a chair next to her bed, he held her hand as he rested his head on the edge of the bed. Cristina placed her hand on the window and just watched her friends in the room. She closed her eyes and tried to control her sobs before she went in. Richard opened the door for her to go in and when the door opened she stood in the door and Alex's bloodshot eyes met with hers. He let go to Meredith's hand and got up from his chair and walked towards Cristina. The two stood there and just stared at each other before Cristina leaned in and embraced him in a hug. The two were never the hugging type, especially with each other, but right now, they both needed it.

When the hug lingered on for much longer than expected, she lightened her embrace and looked at Alex. The tears in his eyes said it all.

"Alex, Meredith is so strong. She's going to pull through this." Her own words didn't even convince her, so she wasn't sure how much they helped Alex.

"I can't believe this happened to her. This morning she was fine, and now, and now look at her. I can't even recognize her. I can't lose her Cristina. I can't do this without her."

"She's our person. We need her alive, so let's make sure she stays alive." Alex nodded and placed his hand on Cristina's back as they both entered the room. Alex went back and sat in the chair on one side of the bed, while Cristina pulled a chair up to the other side. Cristina held on to Meredith's hand. She found it comforting, the warmth coming from her body. She could feel her pulse and that assured her that she was alive.

That night Cristina and Alex both slept at Meredith's bedside. Cristina had been so tired from her long trip and Alex offered to bring her to the house, as did Maggie and Bailey, but she wanted to stay with Meredith. She didn't want to leave her side. Cristina knew she was stable, but she still feared the second she left the hospital something would go terribly wrong.

Meredith made it through the night without incident. Cristina found herself checking her stats and monitors almost every half hour. As was Alex. They couldn't help it, they just wanted to make sure she stayed stable. During rounds that morning Cristina finally got a look at all Meredith's injuries and how extensive they were. Hearing what she went through was excruciating for her, but she was just happy that Meredith was alive and was expected to make a full recovery. After rounds Alex left to go get coffee for himself and Cristina and to check on a couple of his patients. Cristina stayed with Meredith, despite others offering to stay while she took a break. Maggie came and sat with Cristina for a while before heading to surgery, as did Jackson and Bailey. Cristina was happy to be around the people she missed so much, but still wished Meredith would wake up. Once she was alone again, Cristina found herself talking to Meredith.

"Mer, listen to me, you have to stay alive. You have to wake up. Zola, Bailey, Ellis, they all need you. Alex needs you, Amelia and Maggie, they need you. I need you. Please Mer, you are so strong. You can get through this." Cristina found tears on her cheeks as she spoke. She had her hand in Meredith's when she felt movement. Cristina looked up and her eyes were met with Meredith's.

"Oh my god, Mer." She stood up excitedly, happy to finally see her awake, but faced with the task of telling Meredith about her injuries. She could tell Meredith was trying to talk, trying to communicate with her, but couldn't.

"It's ok Mer. You're ok. Your mouth is wired shut, so you can't talk." Cristina could see Meredith growing more confused and then remembered Richard telling her she couldn't hear anything. Cristina quickly grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and started writing things down. Meredith's eye began to fill with tears, so Cristina stopped. She wiped her tears and just held her hand. Meredith probably still didn't understand, so all she could do was be there. She woke up to Cristina hovering over her, who was supposed to be 8,000 miles away in Zurich and unable to hear anything or talk, so she had to be scared. She got the nurse to page Alex, because whether she liked it or not, Meredith needed Alex. He was her person now.

Not five minutes later Alex came running in. Meredith instantly became calmer when he entered the room. Cristina got a little sad seeing the two together, how close they'd come. She didn't expect anything less. She was the one who left, so all they had were each other. There was five of them and then three and now it was just Alex and Meredith. She signed heavily trying not to let her emotions get to her and told Alex she was going to the cafeteria to get some coffee and that she would be back soon.

[aj-the-psycho]

The Hour: A Sanders Sides Story - Chapter 1

TALKS OF FUTURE AND EXCITEMENT

TW: none

Summary: Patton talks about his hour to his brother

AO3 Link

It was an average morning. Nothing out of the ordinary happened and as usual, the twins would get ready together in silence, with Patton’s occasional humming in the shower while Damien cooked breakfast for both of them. That day, they both had afternoon class at two in the afternoon, so they didn’t have any reason to rush in the morning. They went outside and walked to the coffee shop near campus. They would talk about nothing and everything, or sometimes they would just stay in silence, enjoying each other’s company. During the walk, as always, they would have random conversations. That morning was no exception.

“Have you ever think about the future? I mean your future, our future in general.” Damien asked, starting their usual chat.

“Well, I know I want to build my own vet clinic one day and safe all the puppies and kitties! I’ll spread a lot of paw-sitivity.” Patton said with excitement. Damien gave a neutral face of displeasure in response to the pun, which Patton ignore completely. “I think, soulmates are the most exciting part of the future, though.”

Both of them had already had their hour. Though Patton had it months earlier before Damien had his.

“How was it? Your hour I mean. The last time we talked about this, I was half-asleep so I don’t remember much.”

“Hmm…”

November, last year

Patton woke up on his bed. He wasn’t sure why he woke up. He sat up on the bed, staring at the wall opposite his bed. ‘Uh, why did I wake up?’ He thought to himself, still half-asleep. Suddenly, he felt a dull pain at the back of his head. The pain grew and he started to feel dizzy, so he laid himself back down on the bed, closing his eyes, trying to go back to sleep.

For some reason, he felt the urge to open his eyes, so he did. Patton immediately noticed how different his surroundings was. ‘Am I hallucinating? Where am I? Maybe this explain that headache I had earlier?’ He stood and looked out the window. Nothing unusual other than the fact that it’s not the view he usually sees from his apartment. ‘Am I taller? Is there such thing as a ‘sudden growth spurt in your twenties’? Oh wait, am I in the hour?’

He looked around the room once again and spotted the phone on the bedside table. He picked up the phone and unlocked it with his—his soulmate’s—fingerprint. He checked his current location and breathed out in relief when he saw he was still in Florida, not far from his place. Once he realized he had entered the hour, he began to feel excitement bubble up in his body and he couldn’t help but smile wide. He sat on the desk in the corner of the room and began writing a short note about himself to his soulmate. Well, he intended to write a small note but ended up with a short letter since he chose to write in full sentences.

~~~

Oh goodness! It’s happening, I am so excited!

First things first, my name is Patton Harvey. I’m from Florida too! We can meet up easily then. I checked your phone, but don’t worry, I didn’t open anything personal. So I still don’t know your name until I see your note to me later.

Anyways, I have a brother. We’re twins! He’s 8 minutes older than me. I’m 20 this year, 21 in January next year. This is a little exciting don’t you think? I mean, it is for me at least. I can’t wait until I can meet you in real life. I go to the Sanders University and I’m a veterinary student.

I’m so excited right now and I’m trying hard not to make too much noises. I think I’ve said ‘I’m excited’ so many times by now. Yeah… that’s it about me I guess? I can’t think of anything else to add.

~~~

After he included his address and phone number, as well as other random information that he wanted his soulmate to know. He also added random doodles of hearts with a blue pen. After he’s done with that, he went to the bathroom to see what his match looked like. When he looked in the mirror, Patton paused for a moment, staring at his reflection. His soulmate was about three inches taller than Patton is, with dark ebony hair and icy blue eyes. He had prominent cheekbones, so sharp it looked like it can cut you open. Patton drifted his gaze lower to his torso. The t-shirt that he was wearing fits very well. Lean muscles in the arms and visible collarbones. Overall he was slim and a bit muscular.

‘Oh wow, I could get used to this view.’

He tore his gaze from the mirror and went out of the bathroom, sneaking another quick glance at the mirror. There was only a few more minutes left in his hour,  so he browsed through his soulmate’s phone.

When the dizziness from earlier came back, he closed his eyes again. When he opened them, he was back in his room. He let himself sit in silence on his bed, processing everything that just happened. After a few minutes, he bolted to his brother’s room with a sudden burst of energy to tell him what just happened. The next morning he found a small note containing information of his soulmate on his bedside table under his phone.

~~~

Name: Logan Sharp

Age: 19

I am currently a student in the Sanders University, majoring in Astrophysics.

We are also from the same area. I am not adding my address because… reasons.

With the addition of email address and phone number, Logan didn’t put any other information about himself.

Present time

“It’s been almost a year, but we haven’t met yet.” Patton said, concluding his story. Damien listened to the story carefully the whole way to the coffee shop. “And! And we both go to the same university. But for some reason we never have the time to meet each other which is a little weird.”

“It’s nice that you could just see your soulmate since he’s nearby.” Damien finally said.

“Yep. Yours is so far away. Do you think you’ll ever visit him?”

“If I have the money I would totally fly there. I don’t though. You want to pay for my trip to Russia?”

Patton raised his brows quizzically in response. Damien furrowed his brows in return, an expression which says “what? Is it wrong for me to want to see them?!”

“Just be patient, if you’re destined to be with them, you’ll find each other.” Patton said with a shrug.

“How am I supposed to be patient? The guy is so hot, Pat.” Patton giggled at his brother’s words. He’d heard that statement from his brother so many times before. He pushed the door to the coffee shop open, ushering his brother in and then the door closed behind him as he entered the coffee shop, following his brother. Little did they know, that morning would not be as ordinary as they thought.

[nehawriter16]

2018, THE YEAR THAT BROKE ME

I’m currently sitting on the floor of my bedroom. It’s been a day of avoiding real work and responsibilities, but then again, escapism is kind of the theme of this year, so it’s only accurate that I’m here writing this.

Everybody is asleep, except me. And the men I like who live overseas, but they’ve been ignoring me, so I have no desire to ring them up despite the general despair and loneliness I feel. But let’s not begin our round up with boys, because although they rank high on my list of important life lessons/disappointments this year, I don’t want also want to give them the satisfaction of first place.

In the last 365 days, a lot about my life changed. I’m going to try to sum it up as best as I can.

1) In the beginning of December, I quit an internship that anybody else would have killed for. The work and constant travelling and being yelled at by crude seniors broke the delicate petal that I am. I’d landed that job at 19, and I loved that I was thrown into the adult world so early because it taught me a lot, but two years of showing up every day to do something I don’t love killed something inside of my brain. And so, I decided to take a month off and then move to a smaller firm, not realising that my job at EY would help to keep my sanity by keeping me occupied.

The first few weeks were bliss. After twelve hour work days, I suddenly had a lot of free time and I indulged in attending fun trainings and catching up with old friends. For a short second, life was filled with hope, up until my birthday in mid Jan.

2) Since I now had the luxury of lesser work hours, I decided to pursue one of my biggest dreams – writing a book. I already had the story in mind, and I thought that despite the emotional turmoil that revisiting some of the memories would bring, the bigger picture would be worth it. It’s almost the end of December now, and I’m still sure it is.

But the truth is – my relationship with A blossomed in 2016, and died a premature death in mid 2017. And I’ve been dragging it through the ground for longer than I should be. Sometimes I wonder if I’m solely responsible for squeezing it for the story. Or maybe it was the kind of love you can’t forget. Well, I can’t. I’m sure he has.

But one of the hardest things about writing this has been taking myself back to when we were falling for each other. I’ve been reading emails about hopes and dreams and forever after it has already ended. And how do you write about happiness when you know there isn’t going to be any? All this is important for the narrative, yes, but it fucks with my mental health so badly. 2016 me was naive and trusting. 2018 me is bitter, and not too thrilled about revisiting those moments mostly because of how much they hurt just to think about, forget turning them into an interesting cliff hanger filled story.    

I have almost finished writing it though, and that’s what’s the more important thing. I don’t know what kind of nightmares publishing and finding an agent and royalties is going to bring, but at least I will have created something tangible and coherent instead of this faraway thing that I’ve dreamt of since I was 13.

3) I tanked my CA Final – and this was the biggest disappointment, no surprises there. More than the gallons of self loathing it brought on me, it was about the burden I created for my parents. Yesterday my mother, in a burst of anger, said, “If you don’t pass in May, you can’t live under our roof anymore.” She doesn’t know this, and she probably never will, but I cried myself to sleep because that thought terrifies me.

I feel like I am already just swimming through a rubble of guilt. Most people my age have already gotten well paying jobs and have been living out of home for years now. They are financing themselves and starting businesses and I don’t even read the newspaper on a daily basis. I lack the self control I used to have in school, or maybe my mother’s constant nagging and being up my ass was the only way I stayed successful when I was younger.

Of course, this career choice was a MASSIVE bad decision, and I’ve always felt out of place in it. I will never be the best, but I really do need to pass and finish. If I can’t pass it again, I will literally sink into unconquerable depression that no amount of therapy and medicines will be able to pull me out of.

I’m supposed to start studying from the 1st, and I hope that it doesn’t drive me FUCKING INSANE like the last time it did, because this time, the pressure is higher and time, lesser.

I still have some grit left in me though. The last two months of this year have been difficult, but creatively fulfilling, and I am okay with having to go back to analytical subjects again. I feel sane enough to drop into the mental battlefield that is the CA Final syllabus.  

 4) I’m 23 in a fortnight, and at least 5 of my friends got engaged this year. I was the oldest in school in my batch so they’re all younger than me. This whole finding a boy thing is stressing me the fuck out, because as per my calculations, it would take a year of courting for me to so much as like somebody seriously. After that, it would take two years for me to try every possible method to drive him away, and torture him with all my hamartias, and THEN if he doesn’t leave, and when he proposes, I’ll be like, “Okay fine. Maybe we can be engaged.” This whole process takes 3 years. I want to be married at 26, so I only have those many. The problem is that in this time period, it will not only be difficult to find an emotionally available boy with a pretty face – WAIT, for him to find me, because women don’t do the chasing – who is also sexy and charming and reads poetry and has a sensible head on his shoulders. No, in this time period I will also be taking solely career-oriented decisions as one must, and love will always take the backseat. I want to move abroad in 2020 and he may live somewhere else, and it’s clear from my several failed attempts that I can’t do long distance. Also to be noted that you cannot try this experiment with different men simultaneously. It’s sort of a one lab rat at a time type of test.

So what, then? Fuck feelings, and only be serious with hook ups? I think I’ve filled my 2018 with at least a two dozen of those hot but dumb types (tall, abs, rolling in money, half a brain, bonus if they’re good kissers, but you can never date them seriously) and to be honest I’m getting tired of them. First of all, they’re all pussies about the poetry, it literally frightens them which I find kind of hilarious, but it’s also annoying. Sure, we can roll a joint and make out on my terrace, and they’ll just pull up when I find myself getting even the least bit lonely, but the ones I really like – the fuckboys who I see have real turning into boyfriend potential – they live abroad. It’s so cliché, I might vomit, but they literally live in London and New York. London Boy is only here for a month and then he’s gone. New York one may stay back, but he always wants to meet after midnight and there’s no fucking way my parents are allowing that.

And let’s face it, I’m a relationship girl. Sure, I’ve picked up some skills with hooking up and if we’re being honest I don’t really have to make an effort, just pick a half-interesting loser from the hundred DM’s sitting in my Instagram, and it’s done. He does the work and buys the drinks. I put out. I ghost. It’s practically a system.

But I’m bored now. I need somebody entertaining. But no matter what, one of the most important lessons I’ve learnt this year is to never settle for less than what I deserve. (At least for my heart. My body gets it when she likes it, and thats enough.) So I say no to…well, everybody. True love has literally been evading me, and may for a while, I think until this CA shit is done, because it’s more important anyway.

Until then, I literally have a broadcast list called, “FWB.”

4) Do I even need to write about fake friends? Girls are so fucking FAKE NICE, it irritates me. And I have a great group of these girls in my life, who want nothing more than to use you as a stool to get to where they want. I have very few real friends and I’m so grateful for them (okay, her) because everybody else is just about the temporary bullshit. I am always afraid of judgement with them, and everything I say comes with a “what will they think of me?” filter. I don’t think real friendships should be like that at all. No, in a true friendship, you should be able to take both – your make up and fake bitch mask off and sit around in sweats, drinking and complaining about everything that’s wrong with your life.

Is this really how adults act? Will I always have to worry about the ulterior motives of everybody new I meet? And even scarier, if I spend enough time around them, will I also turn into a self centered asshole with no backbone? Will I forget who I am and start adapting to the social settings into which I’ve been thrust?

Because I hope not. Despite everything that’s happened this year, and despite almost losing my mind to mental health (yes! A thing I am still not ready to talk about! But someday will be!) I actually like my brain and what its capable of, once it starts trying. I like the stuff I come up with, the way my thoughts come out as sentences. I am actually a fan of the voice in my head, who – let’s face it – has been a real ass friend to me also. Even though she kind of went crazy with the depression, but I think the recovery has begun.

2018 was a fucking shithole, and god, I fell deep. I know 2019 is going to be even harder but I hope it is filled with more genuine happiness because it’s been a long time since I felt “happiness” as a permanent, internal feeling. It’s just been more of a fleeting and momentary thing for a few hours before the sadness envelopes me and takes lead.

So I hope that when I speak to you in – and over – the next 365 day period that’s about to begin, I am able to share some more hope and joy with you. I hope the motherfucker I’m going to marry stops sitting around on his ass and finds me, because I’m ready for my heart to be won over again. I have mourned enough, and fucked half the high spirits crowd. But most of all… I hope this book I’ve written does well. Not just because it’s a brilliant piece of shit, and a beautiful fucking story (if I may say so myself) but mostly because I really like clothes and I could use the money.

Also it would be great to stop feeling so mediocre all the time, so yeah. That would be nice. Will keep you updated Tumblr!

Love,

NC

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Resource Management, pt27

Word Count: 2507 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter  @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite @wanderingkat77

Author’s note: WELCOME TO CANADA!!

“Barbie Broughton? Are you fucking kidding me? Barbie? Really?” I looked at the ID. My face, and the horrible name. Colonel Rhodes had made me a captain though. That wasn’t too bad.

“It was the best I could do on short notice, Annie,” Tony rolled his eyes.

“You named me Barbie, Tony! I hope no one pulls me over,” I muttered. Colonel Rhodes leaned against the counter, watching me serve dinner.

“You’ll have to use it to check into hotels, sign credit card slips. Decide now how you want to be addressed.” He stole a wing from the plate.

“Ugh. I suppose Barbara will have to do,” I sighed.

“Think of this as an adventure, Annie.” Tony traded me a fresh beer for his dinner plate. We settled in for dinner. I steered the conversation away from everything wrong in the world, and instead we talked about the sights I was bound to be able to see on my drive. Despite having grown up in Canada, I’d never strayed too far from home before leaving to work for SHIELD. I was looking forward to seeing so much of country.

Pepper arrived and joined us for dinner. She had left a huge pile of shopping bags in the hallways. I soon learned everything there was intended for me. It was too much, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She wanted my cover so thorough and complete that I wasn’t to touch my own things until I was settled in at Tony’s cabin. She went through each bag with me carefully. The woman had impeccable taste. She’d even bought me a Lulu Lemon sweatshirt, saying she saw a lot more of it when she was in Canada than she did elsewhere. I’d never been able to justify the extravagance of Lulu Lemon before, and pulled the sweatshirt on right away. I tucked the rest of the new clothes into the new bags she had purchased for me, and zipped them closed. Tony met me in the hallway and held out a messenger bag.

“What’s this?”

“You need to leave your laptop behind. This is a new one. I’ve left some notes and directions on it. For checking in with me, and the like. No porn, Annie. Here is your new shiny credit card. There’s $500 in cash in the front pocket of the bag. Have you got a gun?” He held out the credit card. I slipped it into the wallet that Pepper had bought me. Again, the woman had impeccable taste.

“I’m going to Canada, Tony, there’s laws about hand guns,” I argued.

“You need a gun. Don’t tell me you don’t have one.” His tone was sharp.

“Alright, yes. My super gave me his service revolver.” I dug into the shoulder bag and pulled it out.

“Ammo?” He asked. I dug out the two boxes of bullets that Bob had handed me. Tony opened them up to check and started laughing. He shook one of the boxes and a roll of bills slid out. It had to be at least a thousand dollars.

“Oh my god!” I gasped, “That man deserves to be sainted. He couldn’t afford to give me that! Tony, you have to make sure he gets it back.”

“Of course.” He nodded and put aside the one box. “You’re going to need extra ammo. I’ll get someone to meet us at the airport with it.”

“I suppose I need to get comfortable with this, don’t I?” I swallowed back my nerves.

“Time is wasting, Annie. Let’s get going.” He gestured toward the elevator and followed me down the hall, dragging my suitcase behind him.

When I was a kid, my dad had always called Toronto ‘The Big Smoke’. I don’t know where it came from, and I knew about 4 other cities that also boasted the nickname, but whenever anyone said it, I always thought of Toronto. My mum had always called it Hogtown, and I grew up calling it T.O., which, when I googled it as an adult, I learned was a generational thing. Any way you looked at it, Toronto was a big, sprawling metropolitan mess. It was bigger than Vancouver, not as pretty, but definitely more famous. From my view, out the wing window of the Stark Industries jet, it looked like another big city to get lost in. I hoped for a GPS in whatever vehicle Pepper had arranged for me.

“Okay, Annie, it’s showtime. Let’s get the suit on.” Tony gestured to the back of the cabin. I followed him to the open space before the galley. He put down what looked like a red and gold suitcase and tapped it with his toe. I assumed that I should starfish, and I was glad I did. The suit snapped onto me, battering me in the process. It was not built for a woman, let alone a woman with my bust. My chest felt tight, and I immediately had issues breathing.

“Tony, I don’t know if this is going to work. I can hardly breathe. It’s crushing my boobs,” I was a little breathless. He bit back a smirk and tapped at the tablet he was holding. The suit loosened just enough that I didn’t feel like I might collapse from lack of oxygen.

“Let me know where else is bothering you. Still sore from your roll down the freeway?” He watched the suit clicking into place with a critical eye, looking down every few seconds to tap something into the tablet. It always resulted in immediate relief from something pinching me.

“Am I still going to look like Iron Man in this? Because if you keep letting out seams to accommodate my lady parts, I’m going to look like Iron Vixen,” I commented when the chestplate loosened again. Pepper snorted into the back of her hand. Tony pursed his lips and squinted.

“If you jet off as quick as you can, no one will really notice.”

“This assumes I can figure out how to make your damn suit work,” I laughed.

“I’ve got J.A.R.V.I.S. set to autopilot you. You just need to put your hands at your sides, and everything will go to plan. There’s coordinates set for the Stark Industries plant, which is where we will meet you,” he explained.

“And you think the Stark Industries plant is safe?” I asked. I was worried it would be being watched.

“It’s a calculated risk, Annie. We have to hope we’re not being watched,” Pepper offered. The helmet and mask snapped onto my head and I had a moment of panic and claustrophobia before the heads-up display flashed on, and J.A.R.V.I.S. started talking to me. I saw Tony and Pepper sit back down for the landing, and tried to brace myself, thinking I might topple over. But the suit was pretty awesome and the pilot was exceptionally smooth. When the plane taxied to a stop, Pepper signaled to me to follow her to the door. When the door opened, she nodded and J.A.R.V.I.S. took over, flying me out of the airport’s airspace at a low altitude that wouldn’t interfere with the planes. J.A.R.V.I.S. informed me that the pilot had received clearance for us to fly away. The sensation of flying in the Iron Man suit was not what I was expecting at all. I think we all have that dream about the air rushing through your hair, and lightness and freedom. I felt like I was in a steel prison. The only way I knew I was moving was by watching the world pass by below me. It was surreal.

Tony had bought me a Jeep Cherokee. Correction. Tony had bought Barbie Broughton a Jeep Cherokee. Thankfully, it wasn’t a brand new one. It was stocked with a bunch of camping gear, and was in exactly the right condition for a road trip: just a little beat up on the exterior, but tuned impeccably in the engine.

“Annie, promise me you won’t take any stupid risks. I have enough to worry about with him,” Pepper placed a hand on my arm. “And think about dyeing your hair tonight. Just to be safe.”

“Cross my heart, Pepper. Thank you so much,” I threw my arms around her impulsively. She took a short step back before returning the hug. Tony put his arms around both of us and squeezed his way in between us somehow.

“Can you blame me for wanting to be the meat in the sandwich?” He asked when we pushed him away. I shook my head, and pulled him close.

“I can’t even put into words, Tony. I never thought in a million years you would be this good, decent and kind. Thank you so much.”

“Stop, I’ll cry,” he teased. “The GPS in the Jeep will get you where you are going. J.A.R.V.I.S. is linked to it and to your laptop. You have your own encrypted hotspot for internet. Don’t pick up hitchhikers, and don’t linger too long anywhere. You’re on leave after a tour in Iraq, so you aren’t going to waste time getting to your family’s cabin in BC to get away from the world. And Pepper’s right. Think about hair colour. I’m fond of red myself.”

“I got it, Dad.” I winked at Pepper. Tony put the keys in my hand and gave me one last look before sighing and turning back to the building. I climbed into the Jeep, plugged in the iPod he’d handed me with the keys and turned the engine over. AC/DC came blasting through the speakers and I smiled. It was going to be a long drive, but I was finally on my way.

Northern Ontario was the longest, dullest, most horrible stretch of road I’d ever had the bad luck of driving. There was nothing to see, except trees as far as the eye could see. I might have enjoyed it more, but I was trying to cover as much ground as I could before I stopped. In a perfect world, where I wasn’t worried about HYDRA and Garrett, I would have stopped at Sault Ste Marie, but it was just too close to the border. I wound up stopping in Sudbury for some supplies early in the drive, but then I drove until I couldn’t focus on the road anymore, and wound up in a tiny town called Marathon. I found a hotel and crashed for the night. I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. In the morning, after checking in my email with Tony and sending him a photo of the giant nickel in Sudbury, I walked over to the hair salon.

“Good morning!” There was a single woman in the shop. She was probably in her late twenties, and she had a welcoming smile. It was reassuring. “What can I help you with?”

“If you have an appointment available, I’m looking for a new look,” I started.

“I can fit you in right now. What are you thinking?”

“I’d like to try a different colour, go shorter.” I took a deep breath. I was pretty attached to my two-inches-past-regulation hair.

“Bad break up?” She asked, giving me a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, honey, let’s start by washing that man out of your hair,” she pointed at the sink. I followed her over and let her go to work. I was worried that the only hair salon in a town of 3000 people on the Canadian Shield was a tragedy waiting to happen. She cut my hair shorter than I would have liked, but in the end, once I washed all the product out of it, I thought I would be quite happy with the cut. It would still go into a ponytail, and she’d given me flowy layers around my face that softened my cheekbones and jaw. I’d suggested a chestnut brown, and despite my best effort to stick to my guns, she eventually convinced me that going brunette would be too stark against my pale skin. I wound up a strawberry blonde that was eerily reminiscent of Pepper’s hair colour. I wasn’t going to tell Tony.

“I love it,” I admitted with complete honesty.

“A little less Barbie now, wouldn’t you say? You must get that all the time,” the hairdresser laughed.

“I do,” I admitted with a sigh, “maybe I should have gone red a long time ago.”

“Well, you’re red now, and no one is going to call you Barbie for a good long time.” I left a sizeable tip and found the coffee shop before hitting the road again.

It took me two days to drive out of Ontario. I stopped in Kenora overnight, and sent Tony a picture of the giant fish that was the highlight of Kenora’s roadside. I was completely astonished to blow through all of Manitoba the next day, landing for the night in Saskatchewan. It was so incredibly flat, I was reasonably sure I could already see the Rockies. I couldn’t, of course, but I felt like I could. The Timbits in Saskatchewan were significantly better than the ones I’d had in New York, and I felt like I wanted to tell someone, but I stopped myself from sharing with the old guys sitting beside me at the Tim Horton’s in Yorkton. They didn’t look like HYDRA, they looked like old dude farmers, but I didn’t want to risk it.

I sent a quick email to Tony updating him of my location, and let him know I expected to be on the road for another two days at least. If I were lucky, it would only be two more days. I’d had too many close calls to want to stop for longer than a quick stop for a toilet and cup of coffee. It was killing me to stay more than a few hours a night at a hotel, and I found that I was napping in rest stops quite a bit to compensate for my habit of leaving as the sun rose. It would be good to get to my destination. Double-checking the map was a double-edged sword. Tony’s cabin, which I was sure was not so much a cabin as a palace in the woods run on an ARC reactor, was less than two hours from my mother’s house. From my childhood home. In my hometown. That I had to drive through to get to his cabin.

I hadn’t been home in ten years, but my hometown wasn’t a vast sprawling city like Toronto or Vancouver. It was a small city that prided itself on small city culture. If I ran into one person who recognized me, the whole cloak and dagger routine would be blown, and HYDRA would know exactly where I was. With my current luck, there were probably already HYDRA thugs in town waiting for me.

[weekendwarriorblog]

The 30 Minute Experiment: Dreams

Okay,. taken my bath, semi-dressed and the mayor is on TV preempting my favorite morning show, Let’s Make a Deal, so let’s do this!!

Today’s topic is “Dreams” and not as in “Life Goals” as I’ve given up on those many, many years ago but the kind you have while you’re sleeping. I have a lot of theory about dreams and dreaming, coming from the perspective of someone who has a lot of them and who spends a lot of time thinking about the ones I remember. I’m not a scientist or a brain surgeon but I’ve done enough sleeping and dreaming to have some thoughts and ideas about how they work and how knowing how they work can actually help you sleep. Some people who know me probably know that I’ve suffered from insomnia for quite a few years, mostly from anxiety but sometimes from the complications from getting shingles years ago, but insomnia is something that’s plagued me for a long time until I figured out a way to circumvent it. Let me put that thought on the backburner just to talk about dreams in general.

Most of us know that dreams come about when we’re in REM sleep and maybe we know that you can tell someone is in REM sleep when the eyelids are twitching, but how many of us know where these dreams come from and why the human brain goes to such odd places when we’re in REM sleep? I feel like there hasn’t been enough put into studying dreams and figuring out how to document and analyze them to see why we dream what we dream.

When I was younger, I had some of the same fantastical dreams we all have, often about the things we’re afraid of, and very often, it’s when those things we’re afraid of are close to getting us that we suddenly wake up. Most of my dreams are far more subtle than that, but they’re also very vivid and they often involve people and situations that I might face day to day... like being at a movie junket for instance. But lately, I’ve been having more and more dreams about being in a recording studio situation, and the only reason that’s odd is that I haven’t done any sort of recording project in almost 13 years!

The oddest dreams are the ones that take place at the Magic Shop, a studio I worked at 25 years ago, and many of the situations might not be be based on anything that I actually did there but that just seems to be my brain’s stock recording studio image to work from. 

I’m not sure how many of the two people reading this have seen Christopher Nolan’s “inception” but that’s a movie that’s continuously clicked with me to the point of saying that it might now be in my top 20 favorite movies of all time. Much of that is because Nolan studied dreams and created a fairly believable premise about how they work, throwing in elements like “not knowing when a dream begins” or that “kick” we’ve all felt as we start going to sleep where it feels like our body has jerked or sometimes, at least in my case, I have had the feeling of tripping when I’m lying perfectly still in my bed. The reason I bring up the Magic Shop and Inception is that the latter had this idea of having an architect who creates the environment of the dreams in which Leo DiCapro’s team hijacks their target, and how those environments can be malleable. I mention this because I recently realized that in my mind, I have created places that do not exist but every so often in a dream, I’ll be back at one. For instance, my brain has created a completely original and distinct New York subway system that I’ve explored frequently in dreams over the course of the decades. These subway platforms and even complete lines don’t exist in real life but somewhere in my brain... they do. It’s the same with movie theaters. There’s a really elaborate multiplex movie theater my brain has created that when I have dreams about going to see movies, it often is the central locale. It’s not something anyone with any ACTUAL architectural or design training would ever come up with.

The fact that my brain can create these places that I can only visualize while I’m sleeping and in dreams and it would be hard or even impossible to describe or draw them for others to explain them except for in the vaguest sense, makes me realize that everything we dream must be stored in a very specific part of our brain that’s very hard to access while we’re awake. You can call it the subconscious mind or whatever, but have you ever wondered why it’s very hard to remember even the most vivid and clear dreams? I certainly remember certain elements like if someone I know appears in my dreams, but trying to describe exactly what happened, like the very specific plot of a movie, is tough. This is even when I wake up from these dreams with my heart palpating, something that happens a lot, and I try to write the dreams down.

Going off on a bit of a tangent, I don’t think I’m alone here, and I think that’s why filmmakers like Nolan and Wes Craven explored the idea of dreams in ways that would make anyone watch their movies with a sense of feeling like they can relate to even the most outlandish aspects of them.

Okay, back to what I was saying before about the brain having a specific section just for our subconscious and dreams. I was thinking that if when we are in REM sleep, we start experiencing these alternate storylines and paths and therefore are accessing the subconscious part of our brain, why can’t we do this to help ourselves go to sleep? Right now, think of what dream you had last night. Just start thinking about it and see if you can lay out all that happened. You probably can’t, because presumably, you’ve now been awake for a few hours. That stuff is still stored in the memory part of your subconscious brain but it’s not accessible from the memory portion of your waking brain. 

If I asked you to tell me something you remember from high school or college or from last week, I’m sure you can think of something to tell me. You can access the memory portion of your brain and maybe it’ll take a bit of deep diving but you should find something that you can tell me about.  It wouldn’t be so easy if I asked you tell me a dream even if it’s a recurring thing.

Again, I’m no brain expert, but I think our brain knows that it needs to switch off the subconscious while we’re trying to go about our day to day lives and remember important things like where we’re supposed to be and what we’re supposed to do. There are some creative types who I’m sure are considered “dreamers” where they can dip in and out of their subconscious as part of their creative process, but most of us, we’re just trying to get through our day and get what we need done. We don’t have time for dreaming. We have to save that for the hours in which we’re sleeping.

So going back to what I said about insomnia, I’ve slowly been finding a way to switch my brain into the subconscious in a way to force my body to go to sleep.   I haven’t quite figured it out in a way that I’ve perfected it to the point where I can write a book or do seminars, I’m nowhere near that point yet, but I feel like this has added a tool to my repertoire in terms of getting sleep.

I want to shift into another tangent about what I was talking about in my 30 Minute Experiment about Friendship from Saturday, because part of why that subject came up is that I kept having dreams about friends that either I hadn’t seen in years (even decades sometimes) but also because I kept having dreams about friends that I’m no longer talking to. It made me wonder if my brain was trying to tell me something, and in one case, I literally woke up and sent an EMail to one of the people in my dream because I hadn’t seen or spoken to them in quite some time and I wanted to see how they were doing. Listen, I’m not one of those people who spends hours every day trying to analyze my own dreams and what they mean, but I do feel like there’s something in that subconscious part of our brain that is acting like a PSA to tell us things like, “Don’t oversleep or THIS will happen” and it’s those kinds of anxiety dreams that seem to be there just to keep us on the straight and narrow during our everyday waking life. I’m not sure if a lot of people have experienced this but there is also that thing where you have a dream that seems to last an entire day. It just goes on and on and so much happens but then you wake up and realize you’ve only been a sleep for 10 minutes or so. This has been happening a lot when I take naps and even when I’m just trying to get to sleep at night. I’ll have this very vivid dream of something happening, and it’s a full interaction or experience, and then I wake up and realize I’d only been asleep for a few minutes. This was also references in Inception with the idea of someone being able to have a dream that lasts weeks or months while the body is only asleep for a short period of time. 

I find this also interesting in the idea of trying to solve insomnia by being able to control your brain’s ability to access the subconcious, because if there’s a way to just flick that switch then you can put your head down for 20 minutes and have a fulfilling “power nap” where your body actually rests for much longer than it actually is in physical time.

I wish I knew more people who knew about the brains and dreams and the subconscious to find out if these theories (some of them, granted, being derived from a movie I like) might be feasible in terms of helping people with insomnia. Granted, I’m not sure I want to spend too much time in my own dreams cause they’re so odd and random and often leave me wondering, “Why did I dream that” or “What was THAT about?” but I do find that I enjoy sleeping more when I feel like my subconscious brain has given me something that I can use during my normal everyday waking life.

And with that... Time’s up! See ya tomorrow!

[phangirlof]

Exposed

Description: Sometimes the guys can’t keep secrets. Sometimes that’s okay.

Genre: Fluff, High School! AU

Pairing: Oh Sehun x reader

Word Count: 2,779

I’d been here at Baekhyun’s house for two hours, listening to the guys drone on and on about lame guy stuff. I didn’t quite know what they were talking about right now. I had tuned them all out awhile ago. It was me and four of the guys: Jongin, Chanyeol, Baek, and Kyungsoo. I loved them, but not enough to listen to them talk about… sports?

“But yo, when are tryouts?” I heard Chanyeol ask to no one in particular. Baekhyun answered almost immediately. “Next Thursday, but you have to have an updated physical and gear.” Chanyeol groaned. “That’s not even the best part. The gear has to be brand new. Literally fresh off the shelves and directly to the field or you practically won’t be allowed to tryout.” Baek’s statement made Chan groan louder. “Ugh, I hate tryout season. Like honestly, what’s wrong with the gear we already have? I literally replaced all my equipment last season. More importantly, what if we don’t even make the team. Then we have all this spanky new gear for nothing!” He ranted.

Kyungsoo spoke next. He didn’t speak often when they had conversations like this, but when he did it was good. “You suck at baseball, so you’re the only one that has to worry about that.” This made all the guys erupt into laughter, and even I broke out into a small giggle. Chan’s face turned red, partly from embarrassment. “Aye, leave him alone. At least he can make it to tryouts Mr.I’m-too-scared-to-tryout-for-basketball-so-I’m-just-gonna-hideout-in-the-library.” Kyungsoo gave Jongin a death glare. “That’s not what happened you doof. I had a stupid research paper to finish and the coaches made me go to the library to work on it.” Jongin cowered as Kyungsoo spoke. I didn’t know why though. Jongin was the only one that could get away with saying stuff like that it him. It was obvious that he had a soft spot for him. “Yeah, leave him alone guys. Besides, even if he could try out, he’s too short to make a basket.” Kyungsoo didn’t hesitate to jerk on a strand of Baekhyun’s hair as the guys burst into another bout of laughter. The digs the guys got on Kyungsoo was what usually got them the most riled up, mainly because it didn’t happen often seeing as how nobody wanted to get killed by one of his death stares.

I honestly couldn’t stand listening to them go on. “Can you guys not be so boring? I’m practically falling asleep.” All the guys looked at me with playful annoyance. “Did we ask you to speak?” Baekhyun asked, mocking a face of disgust. “Cause I don’t recall.”

“Aye, I don’t recall asking for permission to speak, not that I’d let any of you losers to grant me that right.”

The guys all let out in a chorus of “Ooooo.” Chanyeol was next to speak.“So sassy.” Baekhyun mumbled something under his breath right after him. I didn’t quite catch it all, but I caught some of it. “No wonder… on you…”

“Would you like to say that again Baek? Maybe a little louder?” I said, mocking a stern tone we’d all heard Baekhyun’s mother use with him. He was quite the sassafrass. He was constantly getting in trouble with his parents because he couldn’t stop himself from saying something sarcastic or snarky. He rolled eyes. “I SAID, NO WONDER OUR SASSY MAKNAE HAS A CRUSH ON YOU!” He shouted even though we were all barely two feet away from each other. “Smartass.” I huffed crossing my arms. The guys got back into their previous conversation. I snatched my phone up from its place on the table behind us. I started mindlessly scrolling through social media. I wasn’t looking at anything in particular, I just wanted something to prevent me from going completely insane while the guys talked about… hockey?

I grabbed one of the cups off the table, and took a big gulp of the fizzy soda. No wonder our sassy maknae likes you. Baekhyun’s words from earlier popped back into my mind causing me to spit my drink out. It flew from my mouth and straight from my nostrils too. “Eww Y/n, what the fuck?” Chanyeol squealed. For someone so manly, he sure did squeal and scream alot. “sEHUN LIKES ME?!?!” Chanyeol nodded. He and Jongin started wiping the soda off the table, Baekhyun was drying himself off, and Kyungsoo had moved to the other side of the room. He’d just barely avoided getting soda spit on him because he had gotten up to fix himself more drink at the same time soda was spewing from my nose.

“He’s had feelings for you since like practically day one.” Jongin said just as he finished wiping off the table. “Yeah.” Baekhyun agreed. “It’s so obvious too. He’s always drooling over you when we’re all together.” My jaw dropped. There was no way in hell, Sehun, of all people, liked me. I had a major crush on him, and the universe was never ever kind enough to let your crush reciprocate feelings. I got a rag from the laundry room, wet it, and made sure the table was clean. Once I was done, I threw the rag back at Baekhyun for him to put it where it goes. Anytime any of us tried to help him straighten up the place he got upset.

“You guys can’t be serious.” I said. The guys loved to joke around, so I wholeheartedly believed this was another one of their pranks. “You should see the way he looks at you.” Kyungsoo stated, making his way back to the table once he was sure it was clean. “And when you’re not around, we can never get him to shut up about you. Y/n, this. Y/n, that. Makes me wanna slap the kid sometimes.” Jongin added. Something in me still didn’t quite believe them, but regardless I spilled my own feelings to them. “Well, I sorta maybe have feelings for him too.” I whispered, covering my face as soon as the words had left my lips.

“OH MY GOD! WE CAN SET YOU TWO UP!” Baekhyun screamed, jumping up and down in the process. Matchmaker, one of his favorite things to do. “No! He doesn’t know.” I said, feeling my face heat up. I knew exactly how the guys were, now that we were on this topic it would be awhile before we were on to something else. “You didn’t know how he felt about you, but look at you now.” Chanyeol said, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders as if this wasn’t sort of big deal. “Bye Yeollie, that’s different.” I whined, I was way too chicken to tell Sehun about my tiny, huge, crush on him. “Honestly, I’m content with him never knowing.” Before I had the chance to say anything else, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Jongdae.

From Dae: Okay but like dont hate me

From Dae: butttttttttttttttttt

From Dae: Something may or may not have slipped…

“I say you just waltz up to him and tell him how you feel.” Jongin suggested from his seat across from me at the table. “Jongin, that’s lame.” I said, quickly replying to the ominous text message I’d just received.

To Dae: Explain

“Or you could have one of us tell him, like me for example?” Baekhyun said, I was looking at him, but I could tell he was wearing the biggest grin of his life. “You only want to do it because you like being in other people’s business.” His first reply was a scoff. “Not true, I enjoy being kind and helping others around me.”

From Dae: SOOOO likeeeee

From Dae: I love you Y/n, you know that right??

I was starting to get impatient. What had he done this time? “Text him.” “Call him.” “Meet up with him. “Send him a letter.” “Send him an email.” “Send him a snapchat.” “Post in on Instagram.” “Slide in his DM’s.” The guys just starting shouting out suggestions. I couldn’t help but giggle as some of the options started to get ridiculous.

From Dae: Hunnie knows you like him

From Dae: dont kill me pls

I screamed as I typed out my reply. Jongdae was one of the first, and for a while the only, people to know about my crush on Sehun. The other was Yixing.

To Dae: HWO DOES SOEMTHIN LIKE THAT JUSST SLIP?!?!???!!??! >

To Dae: UGH im so gonna punch you next time I see you

To Dae: ur such a punk, i hate you

I didn’t notice, but the guys, all except for Baekhyun who moved to the other room to take a phone call, had moved behind me to peek over my shoulder. They were reading my messages. “Whelp, looks like you don’t even gotta worry about telling him now.” Chanyeol laughed, ruffling my hair, something he knew I hated with a passion. I punched his shoulder for revenge. “Leave me alone you crusty heathen.” I said, pushing the red haired giant away from me. He stumbled, and hit his side on the kitchen counter. I could tell the blow to his hip hurt, Chanyeol burst into a fit of giggles. He was so odd.

“Hey guys,” Baekhyun said. He tossed his phone back on the table, where it was pre-phone call. “Sehun and the others are coming over. Also what do you guys want to eat.” The four shouted food suggestions at Baekhyun. I didn’t understand how he understood all the clamour, but I was more focused on the fact that Sehun would be here any minute

From Dae: i luv you tho :’(

From Dae: Also we’re coming to Baek’s

Hearing the fact again made me scream.

To Dae: I KNOW

I pretty much continued screaming even though about thirty minutes had passed. I screamed even more when I heard a knock on the door. Luckily it only turned out to be the pizza we had ordered. We were supposed to wait for everyone to get here, but I was so anxious it was making me hungry. I ended up scarfing down close to a whole pizza by myself.

We always get like five orders of breadsticks, and I ate about one and a half of those. They weren’t even that good, but I was so nervous to see Sehun I couldn’t stop myself. I actually began pacing around the room as we awaited the other guys’ arrival. I was shook beyond belief. How was he gonna react? What was he gonna say? Was he even going to talk to me? Was everything going to be awkward the rest of the night? I didn’t know what to do, so when another knock came to the door I ended up screaming once more and hiding in Baekhyun’s room. I could hear Chanyeol laugh at me as I did so, but I didn’t care.

To Dae: Meet me in Baekhyun’s room ASAP

I assumed he got my message when about ten minutes later I heard a knock on the door. I had locked it just in case. “Open up!” He shouted through the door. I hurriedly unlocked it and went back to pacing. “Jongdae, I can barely breathe!” I uttered, my nerves causing my hands to start shaking. “Is that so?” I expected to hear Jongdae’s voice, but instead I was met with that of Sehun’s much deeper one. “WHY ARE YOU HERE?!?!?!” I screamed for the umpteenth time today. “The guys pushed me in here and said they wouldn’t let me out until we talked, so here I am.” I didn’t know what to do or say. Literally the only thing I could think to do was scream. But that was off the table considering I didn’t think the guys wanted to hear me do that again.

le boyz gc: I hate all of you

Eventually Sehun broke the silence which was different seeing as how besides Kyungsoo, he was the quietest out of all the guys.

“How long have you liked me?”

I almost choked because of his boldness. I mean leave it to Sehun to get straight to the point. “What do you mean?” I laughed nervously. “I’ve never liked you.” I’ve liked you since middle school.

“Don’t lie to me.” He said casually, moving from leaning against the bedroom door to sitting on Baekhyun’s bed. “Jongdae told me you’ve had a crush on me for a while now.” I mentally cursed Jongdae. Remind me not to tell any of the guys if I ever develop a crush on literally ANYONE EVER AGAIN!

.“For the record, I’ve liked you since that first time we all hung out at Chanyeol’s place.” I tried thinking back to the first time we ever went to Chan’s house. It was quite hard to manage seeing as how we’re always either at his or Baekhyun’s house. “What’s so special about us hanging out that one time?” I asked, trying to avert from the subject of me liking him. “I don’t know really.” He started. He stopped looking at me, and focused all his attention on his twiddling thumbs. “Just something about you struck out to me. It made me what to get to know you better.” “Are you glad you did?” I asked in a small voice. Sehun nodded vigorously. “It was the best decision I ever made to be honest.”

I could feel a warmth course through my body at his words. Now I have to tell him. I took a deep breath and finally spilled the truth. “I’ve had a crush on you since before high school. And ever since then just the thought of you makes me happy beyond belief.” I puffed, still not wanting to admit my true feelings for him. I looked over at Sehun. His entire face was lit up in result of what I’d told him. But he went from beaming to smirking in two seconds flat. He sat up off the bed, and stood about a foot away from me. “See how easy that was.” I punched his arm, causing him to start laughing. “Leave me alone.” After those words, he pulled me into a tight hug. I buried my head in his chest. I was able to get a whiff of his cologne, it was strong but not too overbearing. It was pleasant, but at the same time it was a savory scent. I didn’t want him to let go anytime soon, however we jumped away from each other as we heard Baekhyun yell “THEY BETTER NOT BE HAVING SEX IN MY ROOM, ON MY BED!!” and the door swing open.

The guys piled into the doorway. “Ew, look at the lovebirds.” Minseok teased from the front of the huddle. His words caused both Sehun and I to turn bright red from embarrassment. “I bet they were making out.” Chanyeol butted in, sticking his head farther into the room. “Shut up Chan!” I said, covering up my face as it got even brighter.

“Come on guys, pizza’s getting cold and we’re about to put on a movie.” Junmyeon said. I gave him an understanding nod. I went to speak, but before I could Jongin interrupted me. “Oh Y/n’s not hungry. She practically ate like three pizzas before you guys got here. Sehun had her super stressed out.” Everyone broke out into laughter, causing all my embarrassment levels to skyrocket. I buried my face in my hands, so no one would see just how red my face was getting. “It was more like one, let me live.” I pouted. Sehun wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled me closer to him. “It’s okay babe.” He whispered in my ear. I ended up smiling like an idiot at his words. The guy I like just called me babe. What a world!

“Stop being gross, you’ve been together for like five seconds.” Baekhyun said, wearing an over exaggerated look of disgust. I couldn’t help but shake my head at him. We hadn’t talked about us actually dating yet. “Hey you guys, we should choose tonight’s movies carefully. The two love birds might get a little risky throughout them.” Kyungsoo said from the middle of the crowd of guys. This time Sehun and I joined in on the guy’s laughter. One by one, everyone eventually turned around and left the bedroom. Sehun and I exited the room, his arm still draped around my shoulder. Before we got into the living room, he placed a kiss on my forehead. Maybe we weren’t together just yet, but I could definitely get used to this.

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